#i know it'd be a complicated answer for her but he doesn't know that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whateverloomis · 1 year ago

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I just came up with a good idea for a prompt. So basically #5 on the list but maybe make it a vampire AU?

Essentially everything’s the same with Billy and Stu but the only difference is they are both vampires. Like a vampire Ghostface 👀

And only because I enjoy it, extra bloody 🩸

Anon, this idea is crazy and I absolutely love it. Buckle up because this one is a wild ride 😈

Prompt: "Is that... Blood?"

Warnings: Reader has pre-determined clothing, reader has pre-determined desires and likings, AFAB reader, SMUT, period sex, BLOOD, and lot's of it, lot's of juicy plot, teasing, vampire bites, infidelity, making out, some Stully action, unedited. If I missed anything else lmk!

Reader: They/them pronouns (highlighted in bold,) AFAB

Word count: 5k (I went insane with this one, okay?)

It was bad enough with Casey Becker and Steve Orth getting murdered, now there's reports of people disappearing and found dead, bitten in multiple parts of their bodies and completely drained.

The police says that the bite marks weren't big enough to fit the description of maybe a bear or wolf. Neither of those animals drain the blood out of their pray either, which automatically discards them from the suspected killer creature. The case was more complicated than it sounded. It wasn't as simple as to pin it on a random animal and call it a day, those were serious murders and the amount of people that were disappearing from Woodsboro was alarming.

Some people started speculating and coming up with crazy theories. Sending in reports with the descriptions of some kind of a specific white mask that looked like a ghost, but it was decorated with fangs in it's mouth. There were also reports of two individuals spotted running around fields at unnatural speeds.

It was easy to come up with those kinds of things. People were desperate for an answer. Losing a loved one and knowing that others were at risk was terrifying. It was understandable, but complete insanity at the same time. The town seemed to be going collectively crazy.

"What if there are vampires out there... It sounds crazy but there have been reports of very similar cases in many other places outside of Woodsboro." Tatum questioned, that time around sounding more serious than previous. Randy scoffed at her comment and stood up. It looked like he was going to tell a speech or something.

"Listen, this started off as a typical slasher movie and now we're mixing Dracula with it? C'mon guys! It doesn't make sense! It's like believing aliens exist or something-" - "Aliens do exist man, I saw a UFO once. It was insane." Stu added and Randy looked at him in disbelief of his stupidity level. "This isn't a game, Stu. I bet you were high as fuck when you saw it." - "Correction, I was drunk, therefore no hallucinating was involved. It was definitely a UFO." Stu said, 100% convinced.

"I believe you, Stu." you answered and Stu pointed at you. "Hah, see?!" Stu said excitedly and you laughed softly, clearly leading the boy on to mess with Randy.

"YN, you're not helping my case here." Randy said and you shrugged, rolling your eyes playfully. "Listen, going back to the main topic here. These murders are definitely strange. Bite marks? And they don't even seem like it was an animal that made them? Something's off." You said, "Plus it'd be kinda hot to have vamps running around." you continued. "I second that." Tatum said with a smirk on her face.

Billy and Stu looked at each other, devious smiles on their faces that only you saw. Billy quickly shot a glare at you and you looked away, sudden goosbumps taking over your body.

"You're insane. If you guys want to be delusional and believe that nonsense go ahead, but there's a logical explanation to this. I just need more time to figure it out." Randy said and Billy sighed, annoyed at the boys rambling. "That's nice and all, but I have a class to attend." - "Billy, you're like 15 minutes late." Sidney said, slightly concerned at his carelessness. He looked at her and gave her a quick kiss, reassuring her that it's not a big deal.

You felt a pang of jealousy at the sight.

Billy's a player. He had been cheating on Sidney for months with you and he even told you that he didn't have feelings for Sidney anymore. He admitted that he was developing feelings for you and you were definitely falling for him too, but it was complicated. Billy kept telling you he couldn't break it off with Sid because she was hurt and vulnerable because of her mother's death. That he needed to find the right time, but it was starting to affect you emotionally. The pain was overwhelming at times and Billy had promised you he wouldn't display any form of affection towards Sidney in front of you. That promise was broken. He walked past you and gave you a loving stare. Despite the hurt you couldn't help but feel the overwhelming love that radiated from him.

Then there was Stu. You also had a relationship with him behind Tatum's back. She had dated your ex for a while after he cheated on you and broke your heart, so you hooked up with Stu as revenge, but things escalated and even if the feelings weren't nearly as strong as they were for Billy there was definitely something developing.

All three of you knew about each other and it had slowly become a triangle. It was a complicated mess, but it was yours and you didn't plan on breaking it off any time soon.

The boys didn't display any kind of behavior that revealed their truth. That revealed that they were vampires. They had been feeding non-stop, (hence the multiple murders,) to keep themselves calm and collected around you. It was very difficult at times, though. You smelled so sweet and they had been tempted multiple times to taste you. Relish in your sweet blood and make you theirs forever. It consumed them at times, but they couldn't ruin your life like that. Having eternal life wasn't a choice for both of them and it was difficult at times to process that reality. They didn't want to do anything to hurt you, yet they needed you. It was painful. It was torture.

•

"He broke a promise Stu, a promise is a promise." you explained as the boy listened carefully. As you spoke about how hurt you were about Billy kissing Sidney in front of you, Stu was trying to figure out how to comfort you without exposing his and Billy's plan about killing Sidney Prescott, and much less them being vampires.

"I understand that you're upset baby but you know he'd never do anything to intentionally hurt you. He loves you, YN." - "I just don't understand why he can't break it off with Sidney already. They're nothing at this point." You replied instantly and Stu sighed, seeming defeated. "It's a complicated subject YN, you know this. I can't speak for Billy, but I can guarantee that he's handling this the right way. The kiss was clearly to calm her down and not have her after his ass bitching about being 15 minutes late to class. You know how it is, hm?" He said as he scanned your face. You looked at his blue eyes and couldn't help but get lost in them. It was as if there was some kind of force convincing you that you were overreacting. That you needed to be patient, even if you had been feeling it decrease rapidly.

"You're right." The words slipped right out of your mouth, almost as if you didn't even think about saying them. You just spoke. "I know he wouldn't hurt me on purpose I just..." You stopped yourself. You felt greediness consume you. Felt selfish about what you wanted to admit to your boyfriend, but you needed to let it out. "C'mon babe, you can talk to me." Stu said, his voice soft despite his usual goofy nature. "I just want him to myself already. Sidney doesn't deserve him, all she does is bitch at him over her mother and think about herself. I think about him. Care about him. About you. About us." You said and tried your hardest to keep the tears from falling out of your eyes. You hated how vulnerable you were at the moment, but you also knew Stu was there for you. He loved you even if you had a completely different relationship with him.

Stu let out a breathy laugh and cupped your face. He gave you a lingering kiss and ran his hand down your arm soothingly. "You have us, YN. Stop worrying so much. Everything will fall in place sooner than you think." He reassured and you smiled at him softly. Despite him being an ass and goof ball, Stu was easy to talk to and so magnetic. You couldn't get enough of him. "Now c'mon, let's go meet up with Randy and Tatum, we don't want them thinking we were making out or something." He said suggestively, a smirk adorning his face. You rolled your eyes playfully and smacked his arm, "Later, I'm still sad." - "Ugh, fine." Stu replied and walked away with you, spanking your ass along the way.

•

After having an impromptu hang out at the mall with Stu, Tatum and Randy that day, you felt a bit better about the incident with Billy. It was only a temporary fix that lasted until you got to your dorm though.

After a few hours of trying to distract yourself with assignments and reading, your emotions started to consume you once more. You sat on your bed with a few movie tapes in your hands to choose from, and of course they were horror movies. They provided a strange sense of comfort and also reminded you of Billy and all those nights you watched scary movies those first few days of your relationship, ending up tangled between the sheets. You couldn't get enough of each other.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize Billy was knocking on your window. You looked at him in surprise and set the tapes down on your dresser before opening the window for him.

"Hey." He whispered before letting himself in. You closed the window and shut the curtains before turning around to face him. "What are you doing here?" You asked firmly and Billy gave you a confused look. "What am I... What's wrong?" He asked, immediately sensing that you were upset. "You know what's wrong." You said and walked past him. Billy followed you with his eyes, your delicious scent hitting his nose immediately. You were fertil and he knew it was going to be difficult to pay attention to your words, but he had to try. For you. For your relationship. "I don't, can you explain what happened? Please?" He asked, fully attentive. You sat on the edge of the bed and he followed your actions, sitting next to you. His thigh touched yours and he was searching for your eyes desperately.

"You kissed Sidney in front of me today." You explained and looked at him seriously. Billy widened his eyes, concern written all over his face. "Fuck... Baby, I'm. I didn't realize, I wasn't thinking ab-" - "Yeah, exactly. That's the problem. You weren't thinking about it." You interrupted and stood up, facing him. "Do you even care about the things that I say to you? It was a simple request. You said it wouldn't be complicated yet you-" You stopped yourself, exhaling to try and calm yourself. Your heart rate was accelerating and Billy could hear the blood pumping in your veins. His pupils dilated slightly at the realization but he couldn't let himself act on any urges. He had to stay focused. "YN, please. You're the only person I care about. Your words are the only ones that matter to me-" - "Well you sure aren't acting like it, Loomis. It sure seemed like you wanted to kiss h-" - "Don't go there." Billy interrupted, sudden anger taking over him. "I love you and only you. I only want you. I just have to keep Sidney in the loop a bit longer, and I didn't want her on my case s-" - "So you used it as a distraction. Yeah, Stu explained it to me." You finished his sentence and he bit his lip in thought. "You went to Stu about this?" He asked, you couldn't detect any emotions coming from him along with the question. "Yes. I was upset and angry. I didn't want to talk to you because I knew I'd end up arguing, which would've made this whole situation worse." Billy nodded and stood up, towering over you. "I'm sorry baby, it won't happen again." He said softly and placed his hand on your cheek. "You have every right to be mad, and if you need space I understand completely, just tell me what you need, okay? I can't stand knowing that you're mad at me." he continued and placed his hand on your neck, running his thumb over your pulse point. He felt the throb of your vein and closed his eyes to contain himself before moving his hand down your arm. "I don't need space, Billy. I need you to keep your promises. I need you to show me that you really care." You said and he exhaled softly. "I do care," the boy paused and sat down on the edge of your bed again, pulling you towards him. "And i'll make it up to you, okay?" He continued and pulled you, sitting you on his lap. "I'll even go to Stu's stupid party tomorrow, and when everyone leaves it'll be just us three, nobody else." Billy finished and kissed your nose. You couldn't help but smile and kiss his lips softly. It had been a while since the three of you spent time together with nobody else around. You missed it. Missed them. "Okay, deal." You whispered before kissing him again, prolonging it.

Billy felt like he was gonna go insane with you on his lap, kissing him like you were. You tasted so sweet on his tongue, your touch felt electric and he swore that he could've came just by you grinding against his hard cock. He had to feed or else he was going to hurt you.

As much as he wanted to fuck you and devour you, Billy had to control himself. He came up with a cheap excuse to leave your room that night and fed on one of the girls from your dorm. The poor woman was walking towards the building alone, and Billy launched at her. He practically dragged her to the back of the building and pinned her against the wall, brutally biting her neck with his sharp K9s, drinking her dry in a matter of minutes. The last thing she saw was a white ghost face mask with fangs before he left her there. Another corpse to be found the next day that was sure to create more drama in the news.

•

"Samantha?! I literally saw her that night before she left to the drive in." You told Tatum who broke the news about another one of the many bodies that were found drained that weekend. You remembered that Billy left at around the same hour the incident happened. You thought maybe he had seen something. That he could provide some useful information so you met Billy at the benches behind the college campus, which was very secluded and gave him a soft smile when you saw him walking towards you. "Hey." You said, your tone soft and sweet. Billy smirked at you and placed his hand on your hip, "Hey baby." he greeted and kissed you tenderly. "Did you hear about Samantha?" You asked him, worry coating your words. Billy visibly stiffed but kept his cool with his facial expressions. "No, what happened?" He asked, expertly pretending that he was clueless. "She got killed the same day you came over to talk... I was just wondering if you saw something when you left. We weren't friends or anything but... Billy, I'm kinda scared." You admitted and he frowned, pulling you into a comforting hug. If only you knew he was trying to keep you safe. To keep you alive and well. To keep your love for each other growing. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me? Nothing." He said firmly. You pulled away and looked at his eyes. He was dead serious and you immediately felt comfort. You knew Billy would do anything for you, just like you would do anything for him. You thought back to that night when he suggested you guys staying over at Stu's, and with the incident it seemed like it was the best option for everyone.

"Awh, look at you love birds." Stu said walking towards you guys. "Keep it down, would you?" Billy said, annoyed at his friend being so verbally open. "Oh c'mon, it's just us here, lighten up." Stu replied and hugged you from behind. You looked at him over your shoulder and he kissed you. "That's my baby." He cood and you couldn't help but giggle at his words. Billy stood there in front of you guys, his eyes roaming your body and observing how you behaved with Stu. He couldn't deny that he liked seeing you two being so affectionate with each other. "You want a kiss too?" Stu asked Billy teasingly and the boy rolled his eyes, annoyance written on his face. "Take a hike." he said and Stu laughed. "I love you too."

You laughed at their interaction. Stu was undeniably attracted to Billy but the boy was hard to read. Your relationship kept growing by the minute and you wouldn't be surprised if they ended up having some kind of dynamic in the future.

"You guys coming to my fiesta tonight?" Stu asked and Billy raised at eyebrow. "Yeah, we're staying over." He said, pointing at you and then at himself. Inviting you without a care. "Well shit, okay." Stu said teasingly, releasing a breathy laugh. Billy smirked then looked at you. Tension was surrounding the air around you and you blushed as a consequence.

•

Stu's house was packed. There were people you didn't even recognize hanging out and you were determined to go to the pool to avoid as many people as you could.

As you approached the back doors that lead to your desired destination, Tatum, Stu and Sidney were already in the pool, close to the steps. Stu and Tatum were in the water trying to convince Sidney to get all the way in as she complained about it being too cold.

"Mind if I join?" You asked, already taking your cover up dress off. You had a blood red colored bikini on that hugged your body perfectly. Your tits were on display, the slightest bit of under boob was visible and the cheeky bottoms made your ass pop out.

"Looking hot YN, you're gonna have to tell me where you got that bikini later." Tatum said, a genuine smile on her face. Despite her dirty move with your ex she was an honest girlie, which you appreciated despite your resentment. "You've got that right babe." Stu answered and stuck his tongue out. Tatum rolled her eyes playfully, not knowing that her boyfriend's usual flirting wasn't casual in the slightest.

You dipped your toes and widened your eyes. "What the fuck guys, the water is cold." you agreed with Sidney and sat next to her, trying to get half of your body used to the temperature first. "Oh c'mon guys! Get in!" Tatum shouted and pulled Sidney by her legs, the girl releasing a yelp before sliding all the way in the pool. Stu walked towards you and picked you up by the waist and over his shoulder, walking deeper into the water. "No! Stop it!" You said playfully and Stu released you, the cool water hugged your body and the shock of temperature felt good in a torturous way. As you floated up, you took a deep breath and hit Stu on his bicep playfully. "Asshole." - "Oh don't be a cry baby." He said and you rolled your eyes. "Hey, where's Billy?" You whispered at the boy and he smirked at you, "Mmm you want him to see you in this little bikini of yours?" Stu replied teasingly and played with the straps of your top. You smiled teasingly and flicked his hand. "Relax, he's getting us some beer from the garage."

A few minutes later Billy walked out with a six pack in his hands. "There's my booyy, and he brought just enough for everyone." Stu cheered and winked at you. The girls walked out to grab their drinks and you followed them. "Can you get me mine babe?" Stu asked, staying behind. "Seriously?" - "C'mooon" He begged, and you couldn't deny him when he was being that cute and whiny.

The girls grabbed their bottles first and you followed second. Walking towards Billy you smirked at him as he shamelessly looked at you from head to toe. "Fuck, baby... Are you trying to kill me tonight?" He whispered and you let out a breathy laugh. "Mm, who knows? Maybe I'm the vampire." You said teasingly and Billy laughed at your dark comment. You winked at him before grabbing two beer bottles and approached the edge of the pool where Stu was. You sat on the floor, dipping your feet in. The boy grabbed the bottle from your hands and took a swing.

Suddenly, he got the sweetest smell from you. A faint musk to it as well. He looked at Billy to see if he also detected it but the boy was making small talk with Tatum and Sidney.

"So, is Randy around?" You asked Stu and he shook his head slightly before taking another swing of his beer to ground himself. "Yeah, he's inside watch..." he suddenly stopped talking and looked between your legs. A small amount of blood and water pooled between them. "Is that... Blood?" Stu asked, his pupils dilated slowly. "What... Oh my God..." You looked between your legs. You got your period early. "Fuck..." You whispered and moved subtly reaching for the towel on the chair behind you. Stu felt like he was getting intoxicated by your delicious aroma. He felt his fangs starting to grow and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to control himself. Luckily, you picked up the towel in time to wrap it around you and excuse yourself.

Stu made eye contact with Billy. He also knew. When you walked past him his pupils started to dilate as well, but he had much more control than Stu when it came to the urge of tasting you. Billy made his way to Stu and crouched down in front of him. "Get ahold of yourself, we can't risk getting caught, you understand?" He whispered, aggression lacing his words. Stu sighed and looked up in defeat. "Man, how the fuck are we gonna be able to resist if they're going to sleep over tonight?" Stu asked, desperation slowly overwhelming him. "We'll figure it out later, okay? Just keep it in your pants for now." Billy replied and glared at him before stepping inside the house to make sure you were okay.

•

You stepped out of the shower after excusing yourself for the rest of the party. Billy was constantly checking up on you until everyone left and all three of you were finally alone.

You put on leak safe underwear since you preferred to free bleed, and one of Stu's sweaters which covered your body perfectly, given your size difference.

When everyone finally left the house, you went down stairs to look for the boys and help clean up the after party mess. To your surprise, Billy and Stu had taken care of everything. You wondered how long it took them to finish everything, it hadn't been long since you heard the music stop playing and the sweet silence of the absence of the herd of people that were drowning the house.

In the kitchen, Billy and Stu were talking quietly. You couldn't make out a single word they were saying, so you assumed they thought you were fast asleep and didn't want to wake you up.

You barely took a few steps in the room and their eyes were already on you. They seemed darker than usual.

"Hey baby, how you feeling?" Billy was the first to speak. He walked towards you slowly and placed his hand on your cheek. "I'm fine, I just didn't want to be around people." You answered.

The vibes were off. The boys were strangely quiet and mellow. Their gazes were intense and their eyes didn't look the same as they usually did. They were scanning your body like hungry animals and you were starting to get a little bit freaked out.

"Why is everyone acting weird? I just got my period a day early, it's not a big deal. Seriously." You said, starting to get kind of annoyed at their strange behavior and lack of words.

"You see, that's what you don't understand YN, it is a big deal." Stu said and started to move towards you almost as if he were hunting a prey. "Stu." Billy said in a warning tone.

You took a step back and swallowed thickly. Your breathing picked up.

"You smell so sweet and it's driving me insane." Stu said and you gave him a confused stare. What did he mean by that? "And you know what? I don't care anymore." He continued and his eyes turned completely black. You gasped at the sight. Confusion was the only thing going through your head. Fear, but intrigue at the same time. Stu bit his lower lip before smiling, and there it was. Fangs. "What the fu-" you attempted to run but Billy held you from behind, moving you quickly so you ended up behind him. He was shielding you with his large frame. "Stu, for the love of fuck, get ahold of yourself!" the boy said and you held his arm from behind. "Does he want to kill me?" You asked and he turned around quickly. Stu seemed to calm down when he heard your words. "No baby, we would never hurt you. He just-" Billy paused and looked at Stu over his shoulder before meeting your eyes. "Wants to taste you... Your blood." You looked at him with curiosity in your eyes. What would it be like to be bitten by a vampire? "Would you guys... Kill me if I let you?" You asked and Billy's pupils instantly dilated, his eyes turning completely black just like Stu's. The fear you felt mixed with excitement. You felt an energy shift with them like this. Wild and ready to pounce. It was risky. It was crazy, and you wanted it.

"Taste me." You said, and that was it.

Stu walked towards you and picked you up, his big hands around your waist. He sat you on the counter and stood between your legs. He could smell your arousal mixed with the blood between your legs and groaned. "Finally." He whispered and moved your head to the side softly. You bit your lip and prepared for the unknown pain you were about to experience.

Stu licked and kissed your neck a few times before digging his fangs in your flesh. You released a high pitched moan. The pain was pleasurable. You felt your blood run down your neck and over your chest.

Billy was leaning against the counter close to the both of you. A smirk on his face and his cock impossibly hard against his jeans. The sight of Stu savoring you excited him more than he thought it would. He bit his lip and hissed, his fangs fully displayed with the action.

Stu took the sweater off your body, exposing your bloody tits to both of them and Billy couldn't take it anymore. He walked towards you and Stu moved to the side, opening your legs more so Billy could be in front of you as well. He took another bite below Stu's mark and groaned at your taste. He licked the stripe of blood that ran down your chest and moaned. Stu joined him and lapped at the fluid as well. Their tongues touched occasionally against your skin and you were going insane. You moaned and whined at the sight of your vampire boyfriends tasting you.

Billy desperately took your underwear off and tossed them somewhere on the kitchen floor. He inhaled sharply and moaned at your scent. Stu slid down between your legs under Billy and licked your bloody cunt. Billy kissed you desperately as the boy between your legs moaned against your center.

You were tasting yourself on Billy's tongue, a metallic and somewhat sweet flavor palette. You were so turned on that you didn't even care about the fact that you were practically consuming your own blood from your boyfriends mouth.

Stu dipped his long tongue inside you and you arched your back at the feeling. Billy couldn't handle not being between your legs eating you up so he slid down your body and positioned himself next to Stu. They both licked your clit and savored your cunt like it was their last meal. The sight of them touching tongues while pleasuring you was enough to send you over the edge. You came the hardest you've ever experienced. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming that another mini orgasm washed over your body right after. You were practically screaming at that point but they weren't done with you yet.

Both of them stood up and pulled you down from the counter by your legs. You crashed against Billy and he pinned you against the fridge. He kissed you with passion and rubbed your clit a few times before finger fucking you. "Fuck, fuck... Please! Just fuck me already!" You moaned and he unbuttoned his jeans quickly, picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his torso and he spun around, leaning against the fridge. You felt Stu grab your waist to keep you steady while he unbuttoned his pants. Suddenly, Billy slipped inside you all the way in. The lubrication your blood provided created the perfect slide and the pleasure was intense as well. Billy started thrusting at a steady pace and moaned in your ear while he held you close.

Stu inserted his cock inside you a few minutes later after making sure you were stretched enough for him. Your boyfriends filled your hole deliciously and your moans filled the room. There was blood and arousal running down your thighs. You were a mess and felt like you were going to pass out any moment from the loss of blood and the intense pleasure you were receiving.

Billy and Stu lapped at the blood dripping down from your neck once again and moaned in unison. They couldn't handle it anymore and came inside you, filling you up with their seed. They rode their highs inside you before pulling out. Stu released you and you leaned against Billy.

"You okay?" Billy asked, his voice husky against your ear. You let out a breathy laugh and bit your lower lip. "I need a shower" You replied, energy drained from your body.

"Let's go." Billy whispered and Stu carried you up the stairs.

#billy loomis smut #billy loomis x you #scream (1996)#billy loomis x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #ghostfacesmut #stu macher smut #stu macher x billy loomis #stu matcher x reader

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lullabyes22-blog · 3 months ago

Text

Snippet - Estrangement - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Jinx's family dynamics are shifting...

Snippet:

"Don't say I don't deliver."

Jinx flips her off.

Sevika replies with a smoke-ring. The perfect circle shivers, distends, before disintegrating over Jinx's skull. The fug makes her eyes burn; she nuzzles them unobtrusively against her forearm.

By the time she glances up, Sevika's gone.

Fine, so the Ogre scored, and they're even for now. Why it has to be like this, Jinx no longer knows. They'd started out mutually murderous but at least honest in their animosity: both of them disengaged and yet stabbing away, right until the moment the blow found its target and in a blink they’d surface—Jinx with a demon's glint in the eye and Sevika with a fiery twist of a smile.

But somewhere along the line, the two-quotient shifted. A decimal slipped in, undercutting their equation exponentially. Their interactions have since become astrophysics-level ambiguous, and neither of them have the mental chops to decipher what the hell is going on.

Do they like each other? Do they hate each other? Do they like hating each other because it's better to pretend they cohabitate badly—Jinx's razor tongue and Sevika's competitive streak forever at odds—than admit their sniping serves only to sharpen a deeper connection?

Jinx bites another praline, squishing it gooey-warm at the roof of her mouth.

It shouldn't matter. None of this matters.

Tomorrow will find her flying high across continents, with Viktor in the wings. An orbit without limits. And soon—soon—with the answers she needs, and the ammo to back up those answers with a literal boom.

Except—

Why does it hurt so damn bad?

Every goodbye feels like she's peeling off another chunk of skin.

Her eyes go to Silco. He and Sevika have convened to the small bar at the end. Standing hip-to-hip, drinks in hand, they survey their subordinates like two lions presiding over the Shuriman plains. Their pride: no longer a motley crew of fleabitten strays but a vital force to be reckoned with.

Jinx watches them confer in low tones: info being traded. Their expressions: hard, unreadable. Their stances: intimately attuned. United front; singular vision.

Same as always.

And yet... there's something in their bodies. About their juxtaposition. Never touching, always distant. Even as they move in almost perfect syncopation, there seems an invisible seam running down the centerline. A boundary where once there was freeflow.

Jinx doesn't understand, except that it'd transpired right around the time when her freefall had nearly become Zaun's. The city's ultimate weapon turned fatal liability: Jinx in Silco's arms as she spat up tar-black blood, death flooding the cavity of her ribcage.

She doesn't know what happened during the fallout. Only that it drove a stake between Silco and Sevika. You had to be right between them to feel it: the ripple effect of estrangement stuck in stasis.

They were never together without the crew closeby, as if protecting themselves from proximity to one another. And they no longer swapped black looks of knowingness that telegraphed complicity without a single word spoken: heavy; hooded; loaded with history.

The history isn't gone. But it's been superseded by protocol. Blunt; to-the-point; nothing extraneous. No shades of gray.

But sometimes...

Sometimes the stake whittled down. Sometimes, when Sevika bent to confer in Silco's ear, she'd linger just that fraction too long: lips inches from the cold half of his profile, breath gone soft. And Silco—inclining his head just so—would soften in imperceptible turn: shoulders loosening; forehead smoothing; the permanent tautness at his jawline fading into a tiny, fond uptick: full of old memory and older secrets.

Whenever that happened, the crew would heave a collective sigh.

Then, with a sharp intake, they'd straighten, or sidestep, or swerve away altogether.

Back to business.

Afterward, Jinx would spy Sevika at the bars, solitary or in company, the hot gleam in her eyes inverting into a hungry desolation whenever she drank herself too deep into her cups. Or she'd catch Silco in his office, pacing relentlessly with a whiskey glass in hand, whiteknuckled as if for want of holding something more than its ice-cold smolder.

Now, Jinx watches Silco peel a Tereshni pear with his flicknife, speaking in quiet tones as he denudes the fruit. He passes the long peel to Sevika. She accepts it with rare laugh, tipping her head back to drop the green curlicue slowly into her mouth.

Silco's eyes pass over her exposed throat, like a blade looking for a jugular, but warmer.

Jinx frowns.

She doesn't understand. She'd once thought she knew so much. As if secrets were a game of hide-and-seek, and she was the expert at sussing out their sneakiest spots.

But the truth's always got a way of slipping beyond reach.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #forward but never forget/xoxo #arcane silco #silco #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane sevika #sevika #sevilco #silco x sevika #xoxo

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raayllum · 5 months ago

Text

Why Callum Made His Choice (7x02)

Or choices, and why I think each of them were a long time coming. The according choices down below:

Defending Runaan

Betraying his brother

Leaving with Rayla

Resigning as High Mage

Let's go, because sections of this have been sitting in my drafts since the season aired because I thought it'd be fun, but now it's been long enough that now there's Dreaded Discourse (???) over the topic; this meta is not mean to be a rebuttal to any version of critique of events, merely an explanation behind Callum's actions/characterization, and why he did like... absolutely everything in the exact manner I'd always thought ahead of time that he would with his reasonings, processing, framing, and actions. Okay? Okay.

Just a warning: this got really long, do not read it in one sitting, there are sections for a reason. Or if you are, grab a snack and a drink first. Stay hydrated.

Okay now we can go.

Why does Callum defend Runaan?

This one is, I think, the simplest to answer in some ways, purely because 3x06 gave us the answer a long time ago.

I hate him. He's the one who took my mother. Looking at him, seeing him... It makes me sad, and angry, and... confused. See that spear? It was her spear, my mom's, and my stepdad put it into his heart. How am I supposed to feel about that? Glad? Happy that we got revenge? Or maybe regretful, and sad, because... Because that was Zym's dad. I feel so sorry that this all happened.

Callum is a deeply relational person. He aligns himself with Rayla in 1x03 because of Ezran and then trusts her because she's willing to lose a hand for his little brother. He does dark magic to save Rayla and free the dragon because he knows she won't leave without it. He forgives and works/trusts Soren in 3x08 because the man helped save his little brother. While Runaan's bow initially throws him, it ultimately does not matter to him because that's Rayla's dad and she loves him, and that's enough for Callum. His extreme relational viewpoint is also why he's so loyal to Ezran and to Rayla, and why crossing/putting either of them at risk (hi Viren, hi Claudia) cause those relationships to continually and rapidly deteriorate without looking back.

Callum has also had practice with Avizandum and Zubeia. As he points out to Ezran:

You forgave Zubeia. Who did you think gave the order for Runaan to kill Dad? But somehow you got past that. You forgave her, because everything was complicated. Humans, dragons, elves. We've all made mistakes. That doesn't mean we have to keep making them.

Callum also cares a lot about fairness. At first, he defends Runaan because he's being blamed, in Callum's eyes, for something he didn't directly do (destroying Katolis). Then they discuss things more directly, and Callum says the above. And while Ezran isn't wrong that killing Harrow would be enough on its own, I think we can clearly see that Ezran's anger and despair at feeling wildly out of control needs somewhere to go. He's not angry at Runaan solely because of the destruction of Katolis, but the destruction of his home is absolutely a contributing factor.

He wanted to kill/destroy Sol Regem in order to let out anger and exert control, but couldn't because the dragon was already dead. He was so focused on forgiving Zubeia and putting his feelings aside regarding Avizandum ("Everything Avizandum did was to protect Xadia" including murdering your mother) that the majority of his anger got channeled at a safer target: the assassin who directly did the deed (because Rayla defected, and Zubeia changed her mind). Who was already dead.

Basically: Callum points out that Ezran is holding Runaan uniquely responsible, and in a way that isn't particularly helpful or in line with Ezran's previous values: "This is exactly the cycle of violence you worked so hard to end." The cycle they both worked to end. If Callum had any complicated feelings about Runaan (as indicated in TTM) or about Zubeia / Avizandum, he worked through them a while ago, and given that Ez had done the same for 2/3, it's not an unreasonable expectation that Ezran would do the same. Harrow was Callum's dad too, after all.

Furthermore, Ezran is so angry that, according to Callum (who in many ways knows Ezran best), he isn't himself right now, either. Punishing Runaan by imprisoning him is not what Harrow would want and only serves to exacerbate Ezran's own worsening mental state and Rayla's to boot.

It's also not like Callum says that what Runaan did was okay, but that the situation was complicated, and Callum has faith that Ezran will do the right thing eventually in letting Runaan go. Literally, Callum just wants the man to not die and for Rayla's family to be together again because they can be. Especially in 7x02. He's not going to let Runaan die (because it'd hurt Rayla) anymore than he'd let Zym (because it'd hurt Ezran).

This is especially true given that the first shows of loyalty Rayla ever displayed towards either of them was 1) turning on her family (father) in order to protect him and Ezran, and 2) offering to fight against her family/people in order to save Harrow when she had literally only known these boys for a few hours, AND Callum's statement from 2x07 of "If we really want to change things, we can't just keep watching while humans and Xadia hurt each other." (More on 2x07 and 7x02 parallels here.)

If Callum (and Ezran) had chosen in 1x03 the way Ez is choosing in 7x02, they never would've left to return Zym to Xadia, period. After all, "why is there any moral confusion at all" about reuniting a family, a parent and child and allowing them to live their lives, when the parent has committed such terrible acts that took your father away from you? Kids shouldn't have to pay for "the choices their father made" (3x02) but "a life for a life"—one dead and one in jail forever while the person who ordered him to never faced any of your ire—is just "justice" after all.

That said, the slightly thornier decision (especially to Callum emotionally), I think, is his choice to betray Ezran as a result of defending Runaan, so let's get into it.

Betraying his brother

While on a certain level betraying Ezran means siding with Rayla, I do think that's a simplification. It's one both Ezran and Rayla tug at ("So you're on Ezran's side now" / "High Mage. We need you at this council meeting") with poor Callum in the middle, but I don't think it's a good reflection of the situation on either end because it's too simple, and both Ez and Rayla's framing/judgements are heavily clouded at first by their emotions.

I think Callum coming to bail Rayla and Runaan out, and offering to help her on the bridge, is far less about choosing sides as it is about Callum's fixer tendencies, which I've discussed before (in Nov 2021, christ it's been a while).

He is very solution oriented, sometimes to the point of obsession (leaping after Ezran in 1x06 and 4x01; forgetting Sol Regem is there in 3x01 in running to Rayla) and his anger most commonly comes out directed at the person he perceives as being an obstacle to Fixing the problem for himself/his friends. This fixer tendency is is also why he's such a caring considerate guy most of the time, manifesting in his desire to nurture and care for those around him, and closely tied to his pursuit of magic (so he can have agency/the ability to help).

He's devoted himself since learning about the coins to giving Rayla back her family, regardless of who that family includes, and regardless of what else is on the line. We see this repeatedly in 5x04 wherein he risks all of their lives to stay at the Great Bookery because once he gets fixated on finding a solution, he does not have an off switch, regardless — just like in 7x02 — of whether Rayla is asking him (never mind directly telling him not to) to help her.

Now, Runaan is trapped again, but it's not at Viren's hand (though Ezran, snapping at Soren to arrest someone despite the crownguard's hesitation, and his focus on security/power, isn't not acting like the former high mage) but his brother's. That's no good. And Rayla is more likely to fumble the bag without his help; this, plus the fact that Callum does agree with Rayla that Runaan deserves to be free, is why he willingly offers aid even before the situation escalates. It is also a parallel to Claudia ("You do anything for family." "It's too much to ask" "It's love" / "You don't have to ask. I would do anything for you") so no, I don't think it's meant to be entirely healthy either, because Callum's intensity often times gets people into more trouble, not less, but I digress.

As for the escalation itself: he can't just let get Rayla and Runaan on the boat, when the crownguard plus Soren and Corvus are actively chasing after them, and neither Rayla nor Runaan know sky/ocean magic or how to wield it, which is the only reason they get successfully away at all. He had to go with them to ensure their escape, for more reason than one.

But as stated: He is always going to pick the thing that gives him a solution to a Problem, and therefore pick the person with the problem that he thinks he can solve. And he tries, with Ezran to be clear, though more on that in a bit.

This fixer tendency is also why he's willing to repeatedly do dark magic, and why he's willing to sacrifice the simple quiet life that he wants if it means his loved ones get to live ("If you love them, Rayla, Ezran, all of them, you'll do anything to save them [...] It's not about you, is it?"). Rayla needed saving in 7x02, she was the one at physical risk, Ezran was not. Rayla was the one with an emotional problem Callum could easily solve (free Runaan = happy Rayla) and Ezran's was not (because it was more complicated).

And this is also why even once Ezran comes in with the Nova Blade in 7x09, presenting another way to defeat Aaravos, Callum is willing to through with doing dark magic even though he no longer needs to in the same manner, because if Ezran kills Aaravos, then:

AARAVOS: Your window is closing, dark mage. Act quickly, or the brave king and Dragon Prince will seal my fate, and set the world on fire. (7x09)

AARAVOS: Very soon, your brother will embrace dark magic to save those he loves. [...] I have seen it written in his eyes. (7x07)

This is also why he picks going to Ezran over trying to save Harrow in 1x03 ("I'm coming, Ezran!"—book 1 novelization), because he had no skills at the time to use to save Harrow, but he could get Ezran out safely.

He will always pick the person he can physically save, who needs saving in that moment, with whatever tools he has at his disposal, in whatever way he thinks is most likely to work. And no one comes above Rayla or Ezran to him. It's that simple.

Callum is also incredibly personal; he is rarely truly politically motivated. Ezran constructing the betrayal as "he betrayed all of Katolis" I can guarantee is not something that heavily factored into Callum's headspace as a concept, but he does frame it as a political betrayal (hence his resignation) rather than a personal one:

I'm sorry, Ezran. I can't be your High Mage anymore. But I'll always be your brother.

Whether that framing is correct is debatable, but given him and Ezran's talk at the end, I do think Callum comes to conceptualize/understand it as both. That said, Callum isn't the first one to disavow their 'brotherly' bond; in some ways, Ezran is, because he says that he needs his High Mage, not his brother. This is an important sticking point in some ways because Ezran and Karim are also being deliberately paralleled, and have been for seasons:

EZRAN: Sometimes it's hard, but when I struggle, I think about the people I love who are counting on me to do the right thing. Not the harsh thing, not the strong thing. The right thing. Do you love your sister, Prince Karim? KARIM: Wha-? I... Of course. She is leading our people down the wrong path, but she will always be my sister. EZRAN: Then you can still choose love. It's not too late. (6x07)

It's also worth noting that Ezran offers Karim and his people—blatant traitors to the crown of Lux Aurea and people who have tried to kill Janai multiple times—the option to "leave, and build your own future far away from here," which is what Runaan was planning to do befor he got arrested. That Ezran "looks into the face and hears the words of those he judges" (7x07) for Aaravos before he gives Runaan the same opportunity.

Furthermore, Karim is someone who completely disavows the personal to only focus on the political. His sister becomes a traitorous queen who he looks at only with contempt, despite stating "I love you sister, I always will"; his baby is not his child, but his heir. Ezran is not acting like himself/Callum's brother, but as his king, and that includes reaffirming/pulling rank ("I have to stop you. I'm sworn to King Ezran" / "Well, King Ezran, how determined are you to stop me?").

But Callum always treats Ezran like his brother, and does try to fix things, on Ezran's side. He goes to him in 7x02 and advocates for setting Runaan free and—as the person who first identifies the cycle in the series (1x02)—if Callum says something is perpetuating the cycle, he's probably 99% right. He is there to understand, accepts Ezran's anger, but also challenges it. It seems like maybe Callum is getting through to him (with Callum and Zym's framing being paralleled like, so incredibly on the nose) but then Runaan and Rayla are caught.

Ezran has the chance to do what Callum considers "the right thing" (and what Ezran does throughout all prior seasons) and let them go. He doesn't. Instead, he moves to arrest Runaan and Rayla and drag them back to the Banther Lodge by force... for what? Would that actually make him feel better? Or is it just giving him the means to feel control after feeling wildly out of control? He doesn't even go down to see Runaan at any point to see him suffer; he just wants to know Runaan is in jail and separated from his family.

Ezran is then also paralleled to Claudia further, specifically when Callum betrayed her by immobilizing her, because she didn't want her prisoner (the egg) to be taken and reunited with its family, either.

CLAUDIA: Callum, what are you doing? CALLUM: The right thing, I hope. I'm sorry Claudia. (1x03)

EZRAN: Callum, what are you doing? CALLUM: The right thing, I hope. (7x02)

Then Ezran threatens to kill him / risk killing him if Callum doesn't move out of the way, in an even more direct Janai-Karim and Soren-Claudia parallel. (Claudia's rage in the finale also lampshades this with Soren attempting it even less tbh, with "Were you really going to go through with it? Kill me, your sister? I could kill you both!"). The background guard lady even looks surprised after Ezran raises his hand, so the threat is more than apparent even to the characters within the setting.

AANYA: My next shot will be more than a warning.

But Ezran decides trying to kill/wrangle back Runaan is not worth killing or possibly his brother, and Callum reaffirms they are brothers and always will be, and leaves it at that.

This shift from political "king and high mage" to "we're brothers" is also directly stated/reaffirmed in their reconciliation scene as being the most important thing: "Because we're brothers." "Brothers," leaving whether Callum will be high mage again up in the air, but his place as Ezran's brother—and Ezran as his—is not. Callum is wiling to betray Ezran on one front, but refuses flat out to entirely relinquish the bond on any other. He hopes he's doing the right thing, and he hopes that even in doing so ("I know it was hard, but it was the right thing. You know that. I know you do") they can reconcile.

EZRAN: Callum. High Mage. We need you at this council meeting. (7x02)

CALLUM: It was okay to be angry, but I couldn't let the bad feelings stick. Because we were going to need each other. Because we're brothers. I still need you, Ezran. I know it's been a hard time, but I really hope— EZRAN: I need you, too. (7x09)

We also do see Callum support Ezran throughout both 7x01 and 7x02 (until he can't/won't)—embracing him (which Ez, in shock, does not return), following his orders to investigate with Corvus, explaining his side to Rayla, attending the entire meeting even after Rayla leaves, though he regrets it. What Callum is doing, therefore, is living in the moral confusion — the complicated nature of their complex lives of hurt and breaking the cycle — that Ezran is refusing to now that he's been set with a new challenge, willing to inflict pain on others because of the pain and loss Runaan had inflicted on him, and Callum knows this.

EZRAN: Violence, loss, pain. More violence. Stop! Stop. I just want to yell stop. But that’s not enough. It won’t work. I think about a positive vision, a faith we can all share, that we might build a future together in hope. A future where we can be safe with each other. But… It’s not that easy or simple. Because people are still hurting and they are still angry. We can’t ignore that, or pretend it will go away. Somehow, we have to hold it all in our hearts at the same time. We have to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss, but open up our eyes and allow ourselves to hope and maybe forgive and love again.

CALLUM: No, that's not what I'm saying. It's just... It's complicated. (7x02)

CALLUM: The three of us have been through a lot together. We'll get through this too... right? [...] Give Ezran a bit of time to process all this. [...] Ezran will do the right thing. He just needs a bit of time to get there. (7x02).

CALLUM: You forgave Zubeia. Who do you think ordered Runaan to kill Dad? But somehow, you got past that. You forgave her, because everything was complicated.

AARAVOS: Childhood innocence gives way to something complicated. (7x02) / I have seen generations of humans and elves accept the darkness that lurks in all of us beside the light. There is no black or white, only shades of gray. We must all carry complexity. (7x04)

CALLUM: Dear Ezran. A few days ago, I started writing you a letter about how sorry I am that I hurt you, about how sad I am that there's a rift between us, and about how certain I am that somehow we'll find a way to repair things. (7x07)

EZRAN: I'm going to forgive you. I don't know how, but I have to try. (7x09)

So yes, Callum betrays his brother to protect their father's killer — the same way Callum betrayed his friend to reunite the person who ordered the hit with her child; the same way Ezran defended the murderer and explicit murder of his mother — because that killer is person is your best friend's father.

REX IGNEOUS: Or is the Dragon King too busy picking fights with little humans at the border? That was always his favourite sport: stomping on ants and calling himself a conqueror.

EZRAN: Everything Avizandum did was to protect Xadia! (4x08)

So just to sum up, Callum betrays Ezran for 4 main reasons:

If he didn't help Rayla break Runaan out, it was more likely something was going to go wrong (and he was right). If he didn't save her with the ice spell, she and Runaan were going to end up hurt and/or arrested or worse.

Callum is determined to treat her like family (even if Ez is not) and to break the cycle as they were instructed by Harrow, and as Ezran has done himself many times.

Rayla had an emotional and then physical problem that Callum Fixer McGee could fix; Ezran had an emotional problem that he was basically stonewalling Callum on.

Ezran had numerous other people in his corner to rely on (Zym, Aanya, Opeli, Soren, Corvus, Barius, his general guards, etc). Rayla had literally no one but her imprisoned father, all of her former friends and allies (Soren and Corvus) turning on her without question because the boy she was willing to lose a hand for told them to.

Rayla had greater need of Callum in the situation and in the moment, so his loyalty to her won out; if her and Ezran's situations had been reversed, Callum would've picked Ezran in that moment and situation without question, because that who he is. He picks whoever he thinks needs him more—over others, and over his own potentially hurt feelings.

None of this means, however, that Ezran didn't need his brother in S7. So let's talk about:

Why did Callum leave with Rayla?

There's the practical and the emotional ones, I think.

Practical:

As discussed, Rayla and Runaan wouldn't have made it in the boat without him. There is no way anything other than magic would've made it move fast enough to get away, and neither elf is inclined or aware enough of sky or ocean magic to make the boat go that way. Callum literally had to go with them.

If Callum had stayed, he would've likely been arrested himself, putting Rayla in a difficult situation of either sending Runaan off on his own to then bail Callum out, or leaving without him when he was in a bad situation. He wasn't going to do that.

If Ezran had arrested Callum, it also wouldn't have made him much happier or actually fixed anything. Callum might've (as in canon) apologized for hurting him, but Callum wasn't going to take back what he'd done, and this was probably just going to exacerbate Ezran's issues further.

At the time Callum left, Ezran wasn't focused on rebuilding Katolis and had made this plain. He was instead focused on collecting weapons, travelling to Duren and back to do so, and we only see him return to the castle's immediate surroundings when Aaravos shows up.

The emotional ones:

After 2 years of separation, and the only times they are separated usually being when Rayla is the most in danger, yeah, Callum doesn't want to be separated from her. She's his best friend and his life partner, and he and Ez have willingly & happily led far more separate lives for a while now (more on that in the next section). He wants to go with her. Sue him.

Callum believes that Ezran needs time to process his anger. He knew he wasn't able to get through to Ez, and that the betrayal would hurt him. It's not unlikely, then, that Callum thought time and distance would help, and that they could try to mend things later.

Katolis did not factor in (but I'll get to that in a bit).

Callum rarely experiences regret unless it puts the life of someone he loves directly in danger, and rarely questions the validity of his actions, especially when he think someone is wrong. (This is also why he'll never regret using the torture spell on Claudia, for example.)

Callum also knows Rayla and we see that, without him, Rayla would've dropped Runaan off at the Silvergrove and then immediately dipped. He wanted to go with her to emotionally support her and also knew that Rayla would let him vs not letting anyone helping her. Until Rayla is reunited with her family and let back into the Silvergrove, she does not have a support system outside of him; Ezran does.

As for having a good time at the Silvergrove... We see Callum's first day there, whereupon he's mostly focused on what Rayla and her family's situation is going to be. Runaan and Ethari make up for failing Rayla by giving her unconditional support and forgiveness, literally binding their fates to hers for the trial and supporting her when it doesn't go well and they think they'll be banished too. Callum has come all this way to reunite her with her village/family and considers her his family; yes, he's going to join in on the group hug and be happy when he's encouraged to. The next time we see them in the Silvergrove, it's been 2 weeks, and Callum is still a little awkward/nervous, but again, mostly focused on giving the family time to spend together and wanting to be integrated, because well...

CALLUM: Be with you. [Kisses her] Yup, I could do this. Pretty nice life. (7x05)

He wants a life with her; he likely has plans to marry and have children with her. It'd be like if Ezran wanted to have Zym around always and had issues with Zubeia constantly; it wouldn't exactly jive. Secondly, Callum's feelings about Runaan were always something I'd figure he wouldn't deal with directly right away, instead focusing on peace/Rayla, and then it would sneak up on him that it bothered him / was something he had to confront ("I just hoped, if I didn't think about it, maybe it wouldn't be true"). Less than one month passing in-show time with no real issues, especially with an entirely repentant Runaan? Yeah that's completely on brand to not be on screen because it'd only happen later.

In regards to Callum making peace and engaging more happily with Runaan... He's definitely not going to do anything else when 1) Runaan's not provoking him first and 2) in front of Rayla. Callum needing to adjust in the fic cited below (written by me and thosefiveadoraburrs in January 2020) semi-early into his relationship with Runaan is exclusively because Runaan is being a prickly asshole. Barring that, and even with that, the integration going smoothly is pretty easy for Callum at first because he's so focused/driven by his love for Rayla. Period.

"The point is that while I don’t care what you say about me, as I’ve heard far worse from other elves like you, Rayla does and you are still her father and she deserves to have you in her life and to have a good relationship with you. So when she’s not around, you can say whatever you want, even to my face. I don’t care and I don’t plan on rising to it anyway. But when she is around, you keep that shit to yourself, because it’s only going to upset her, and she’s been through more than enough.” [...] "You were so young," Rayla said, "so young, when you lost your family. And even if you’d been older, I don’t think their absence would hurt less, but I’m not surprised you notice it more because of how you had to grow up largely without them." [...] "It’s just… on any side," Callum said, "I can never just move on from what I’ve done, or what people think I’ve done, and I wish they would just let us be , sometimes. Without knowing that people think I should be regretting whatever decisions I’ve made, because they’re wrong. I never regret what they think I do.”

Furthermore, from my pre-S6 fic:

Halfway through [their chess game], though, Ez rubbed at his temples again, and this time Callum asked about it. “You okay?” “Yeah.” Ez frowned as he surveyed the board and then moved his rook. “It’s just Zym. Normally when we’re far away, our emotions don’t blur too much... But because we’re both stressed about the same thing...” “It’s a lot?” Ez nodded, picking up a pawn and then setting it down on the same square, considering. “There is one thing you and Rayla could do to help, maybe.” Callum thought of the Summit that would be a few days’ long trip to Duren and tried not to squirm in his seat. “Oh?” Please not... “Well, we finally got the go ahead for the Summit next week. And the rest of the Pentarchy might take the urgency of hiding the prison more seriously if you and Rayla came along,” Ez said. “Since you’re High Mage, and Rayla’s Xadian. Since we don’t have Zubeia to rely on.” “Yeah.” Callum focused on the board rather than Ezran’s expectant face, waiting for a yes he didn’t want to give. And what excuse could he offer, really? Ez would probably pushback if he just thought they wanted to make a beeline for the Starscraper because of the Nova Blade. Ugh. Two secrets at the same time was the worst. And he wasn’t about to drag Rayla out to Duren just to be a token Xadian when he’d spent that morning trying to convince her that putting her parents above other missions that weren’t hers was actually okay for her to do. “Well, let’s see,” he said, hoping that’d be enough. “Don’t have to rush into anything.”

“He saw the egg and he would’ve still killed both of us!” “You think I don’t know that?” “Then how you can not care?” Ezran cried, voice cracking. His nose was runny, eyes stinging again. He bit something back. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t lose this argument just because he was crying. There was a fire in his chest that couldn’t be doused. “I do care, but I also care—I care more about Rayla,” Callum countered, because of course that’s what he’d fucking say. Ezran turned away from him, rolling his eyes and not in the mood to see Callum gesture at him. “She’s our family, why isn’t that—” [...] “You had Opeli and the rest of the council,” Callum said. “Don’t you get it? We’re all she has, we have to be on her side, she doesn’t have—she loves him. And that's enough for me."

“[About betraying and abandoning Ezran to free Runaan] What’s done can’t be undone. We can’t take it back.” Rayla chanced resting a hand on his shoulder. She had to accept his honesty if she was going to ask the question. “Do you wish you could?” “No.” He finally looked at her. “But I wish it could’ve gone differently, I...” Softening, he took her hand from his shoulder, running his thumb over her knuckles. “You’re family,” he said resolutely. “I won’t forget that, even if Ez has.” [...] “So you think it was the right thing?” she prompted more softly. Callum sighed, angry again—but not at her. “I don’t know if there’s always a right thing to do, anymore,” he muttered, sitting in the spot she’d vacated on the bed. “You just... make the choices you can in the situations you’re in, because the alternatives are so much worse. Other paths that you won’t—that you can’t live with.”

But the big thing, I think, is that in Callum's head... nothing is more important than your closest interpersonal relationships. He's devastated by the loss of Katolis in general, yes—"Katolis was destroyed and that... that is devastating" and his sobbing before Soren finds him—because it was home, even if it was a home he never felt entirely at home in, due to his uncertainty with Harrow and place as a prince. But Callum also cries in 7x01 when he sees the king's tower has collapsed, and thinks he's lost Ezran.

In 1x06, Rayla gives her reason for travelling with the boys, yes, citing:

RAYLA: I could take it any time I want to. CALLUM: Then what's stopping you? RAYLA: Cause it as to come from you. Human princes returning the egg of the Dragon Prince, that's the gesture that matters. That's what could stop the war and change the world.

And it's not good enough for him (hence his angry little face persisting even after she explains) because that's not the reason he wants to hear. He wants to hear that she cares about them. That they're her friends, which is why that's precisely what he says to her on the ice before handing over the egg: "We're lucky to have you as our friend. I do trust you" even before he knows the truth about her binding. He wants the personal. Needs the personal. That's what matters. But that's not what Ezran draws on for any of their interactions. And if it's unfathomable to understand how or why Callum could walk away, then the good news is that said perspective ALSO made it into the fanon s6 fic through Corvus:

Corvus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can understand why the assassin would want to be free. I understand why Rayla would want him to be, too, and she loves the boys immensely. But I cannot understand Callum’s hand in it, the lengths he’s willing to go to. It is not as though he is the only one who could ever free the man. And Ezran is his brother and his king. His baby brother. [...] His responsiblity. It’s our duty as older siblings. He’s a sorry excuse for an older brother to just walk away like and abandon Ezran like that.”

Because in the "family member picks breaking the cycle even if that means leaving their younger sibling / more emotionally distressed family member behind (often with others to support them): The Show", such as Janai marrying a human + sparing the architect who had every opportunity to think about the pain she'd cause by putting out the soul flame of Yonnis' parent even when Karim thinks she's not focused enough on the destruction of their home; Soren leaving his abusive warmongering father and killing him even if it devastates Claudia; Astrid abandoning her brother/family to warn everyone about Aaravos; Rayla fighting Runaan on the battlements; Viren leaving Claudia on the beach show, surprisingly, there's going to be patterns that Callum and co. will fall into.

If you're interested more in Ezran's side of things, his emotional processing throughout the season / construction of his identity, and how/why he was perpetuating the cycle, you can check out this meta here.

For now, let's finally talk about the final real section of our meta, which is

Why did Callum resign as High Mage?

On the one hand, Callum's resignation shows that he does conceptualize what he's doing as a betrayal, as noted, and as something that would cause a rift, as verbally stated in 7x07. He "knew my leaving would hurt you" just the way that Rayla leaving him did so. He also knew that at this time, to him, it was necessary. He knows that he can't do this and stay on as High Mage. He also knows, at this point, that he doesn't want to be high mage.

Because "that was devastating, but that wasn't Runaan." Because Callum doesn't personally care about Katolis as a kingdom/castle, and quite honestly, he never has. Post-S3, when things would've been politically terse, as shown in Through the Moon, he was willing to leave Ezran in Katolis on one day notice to go have a vacation exploring Xadia.

And it's not the first time he's left Katolis on short notice with zero concern, doing so in 4x03 (whereas Soren goes as Ezran's sworn crownguard, and Ezran hesitates) solely because Ezran is leaving. It happens again in 5x01 when Ez is away with Soren and Corvus on his dragon diplomatic mission, with Callum making the plan to leave for the Great Bookery the night before and leaving very early in the morning, even though he's currently the highest ranking person at court. We see Callum's discomfort at court first hand in his opening scene in 4x01, showing immediate wariness about his position as High Mage and his lack of mind to political matters:

GUARD: High Mage Callum, the King's council is assembling in the throne room. CALLUM: Oh, pfft, you don't need to call me that. I-I know it's my official title but all that high mage stuff is so... stuffy. Just call me my normal name, Prince Callum. Or just, y'know, just regular Callum. [...] Okay, I'm sorry, now I don't remember what you came here to tell me.

After which he immediately delays going to the meeting to check in on his magic book coming in from Xadia, though it hasn't arrived yet. Rayla's arrival causes Callum to oversleep and be MIA for Zubeia's greeting, leaving Ezran to momentarily flounder till Soren steps in, though no one seems surprised or concerned that Callum isn't there, just awkward. He doesn't go with Ezran to deal diplomatically with any of the dragons either, leaving it entirely in Soren and Corvus' hands, and he has no concern over leaving in 6x01 either, while Ezran hides his sadness about all his friends leaving to go elsewhere (Soren and Zym for Zubeia, and Callum and Rayla for the Starscraper). He and Rayla go rogue over Janai's orders as well, leaving Janai to reflect, "I may be queen, but even I don't have the power to stop those two once they set their mind on something," which is such blatant foreshadowing it felt like neon lights were flashing in my face.

We see this thread steadily even from 1x01, whereupon Callum only reaffirms Harrow is the king as a wall up to thinking of himself as his son. Harrow being royalty was a hindrance to Callum being comfortable of thinking about him on an interpersonal level, not a help:

EZRAN: Why don't you just call him Dad? CALLUM: Because he's the king. And I'm his stepson.

which is also why Ezran talking about the burden of kingship with him in 7x02 goes over Callum's head, because Ezran isn't actually focusing on the fact their father is dead; he's focusing on how it forced Ezran to be king, and being king is so the opposite to how Callum operates, it was never going to click.

EZRAN: Our king. Our father. [Takes off his crown] I never asked for this. I wasn't ready to be a king. I'm just a kid.

And one of the reasons I say the opposite is because of everything laid out above, patterns wise, but also because of his Tales of Xadia bio, which states:

I'm beholden to my inner circle, not some silly kingdom.

There are also scenes from Dreamer's Nightmare which help reaffirm this, where Ezran states that "As princes of Katolis, it's our duty to put you all [citizens of the town] first," only for Callum 1-3 pages later argue for the complete opposite, because:

EZRAN: [When Callum wants to wait for their dad / the adults to wake up and solve things for the town] I'm going either way, but I'd really like to have someone come with me. Someone who's good at solving mysteries. CALLUM: Fine, I'll go. But only because I'm your big brother.

EZRAN: The whole town is in danger, Callum! Let me go! CALLUM: No! I have to keep you safe! I promised King Harrow [...] but I keep failing, and I'm just so scared you'll get hurt.

I don't think either of these supplementary materials are necessary though, to get this aspect of his across, given that scenes like this were written well before the latter came out, and Callum's entire Tales of Xadia bio just reaffirmed exactly how I and many others have seen him since S1 came out:

"And Ez doesn’t need my help,” Callum added more cheerfully. “If he needed me, he’d say so.” He said it with so much confidence it took Soren a second to tell if it was a joke or not, but no. The young mage honestly believed it. How was a good question, and the answer would’ve been more so, given everything. Those first few months after the war were crystal clear in Soren’s mind: Ez weathering the political waves alone, wearily drafting peace treaties and legislations while Callum scoured Xadia, searching for Rayla and growing more and more irate every time he returned home empty handed. The way Ezran had single handedly held him together, Callum unable or unwilling to truly confide in anyone but his brother. How Ezran had let Callum hole up with that stupid mirror for hours on end rather than eliciting magical solutions to everyday problems, because at least he was focusing on something other than heartbreak. How many council meetings Callum had skipped or been late to, never operating as acting-king when Ezran was away on diplomatic business. Callum’s temper on his 16th birthday reigning summer storms down on the castle for weeks straight. His lateness to Ezran’s meeting with Zubeia that Soren had stepped in for; the way it had been him and Corvus, not Callum, accompanying the young king to his entreatment of the dragons and Domina Profundis. Ezran’s steady, strong nature, the way he could be so silent and quiet it was easy to forget how young he was sometimes and how much he’d been through, how much he’d missed their friend and father and his childhood. It’s not fair you have to struggle through this alone. “Yeah,” Soren said quietly. “Sure.”

Callum does not care about being crown prince or high mage. He isn't focused on supporting Ezran as king; he's focused on supporting Ezran as Ez, as his brother. Those are separate things from being Harrow's son and Ezran's brother, even if they can overlap. He cares about Katolis on a certain level, yes, but not on a big one; he cares about it because he cares about Ezran. And Ezran asking Callum to stay in the meeting as High Mage was never going to work. If Ezran had asked him to stay as his brother, maybe — but Ezran doesn't.

CALLUM: I'm sorry, Ezran. I can't be your High Mage anymore. But I'll always be your brother.

And in typical Callum fashion, whether he goes back to being high mage remains to be seen, but he does put in the majority of the effort in their actual reconciliation. He approaches Ezran first, he's the one walking over, and the one who speaks first.

CALLUM: Hey. EZRAN: [Uncertainly] Hi. CALLUM: So I've been thinking about this toy banther I had when you were just a baby. I loved it more than anything in the world, and you broke it. EZRAN: And... you're bringing this up now? CALLUM: I was so mad. I said I hated you, and I would hate you forever. And Mom said that it was okay to be angry, but I couldn't let the bad feelings stick. Because we were going to need each other. Because we're brothers. I still need you, Ezran. I know it's been a hard time, but I really hope—

Callum loved that toy more than anything, and Ezran broke it, and he got over it, because he loves Ezran more. He's saying it's okay for Ezran to be angry (x2) and it's okay if Ezran hates him. Just that even if Ezran is, and even if Ezran does, Callum still loves him and needs him and considers him his brother. That he hopes they can reconcile.

And Ezran accepts it—much to Callum's surprise and then relief— because he never needed his high mage. He needed his brother, and that's what Callum still is—what they'll always be.

EZRAN: I need you, too. CALLUM: Brothers. EZRAN: Brothers.

Conclusion

Back when they were both children, Callum and Ezran didn't have anything to put above each other and the immediate proximity of their bond. However, the events in the first 3 seasons change this forever. Callum finds magic and falls in love, and Ezran returns home to be king, and gains Zym and his council as constant supports.

Ezran puts going home to be king above continuing to travel to Xadia. From there, they spend more and more time and seasons apart. This is similar to Soren and Claudia, who have an increasingly fractured bond, but who also know aren't doomed to be miserable because of their separation or betrayal; they forge new friendships, bonds, and sources of laughter. But neither set of siblings ever forget their love for each other, even if they grow and their priorities expand to include other things. For Ezran, Zym and his kingdom are incredibly important to him; for Callum, Rayla and the life they're building together, as well as stopping Ezran (or anyone) from causing permanent unnecessary harm to one another in their little family is also a priority.

None of this is to say that Callum's way of dealing with things is flawless, or that they won't have more conflict again in the future (I'd love it, although I expect there to be more of a focus on Ezran-Zym conflict going forward) but being a little flaky/unreliable in a political sense is just who Callum is, even if he will always come through on the personal manner in the end.

Sibling relationships are complicated, and they can both mutually fail each other and Rayla, and then still come back together in the end. And I'm very glad that they do.

Other fun details:

Callum's letter refers to the dragons as big help, a gentle nod to how Ezran described them in 3x08

Callum confirming that he babysat Ezran regularly growing up, which fits with Callum's tug of war between being a parentified older brother with his own immature / peer adjacent sides

Callum sits closer to Ezran at the council table once he's no longer high mage, whereas before he always sat further apart

Ezran is symbolically embroiled with fire throughout the season (king of ashes, the fire ruby plan, the Nova Blade having the risk of setting the world on fire, the fire in his eyes that are meant to parallel Aaravos' etc). Callum is associated with water, nabbing Rayla's water reflection motif in later episodes, and with greater emphasis on his connection to the ocean arcanum in spell usage and its links in dark magic. The two then meeting in the middle is interesting symbolically, to say the least.

#tdp meta #tdp callum #the dragon prince #tdp #analysis series #analysis #characterization #callum #two pillars #7x02 #multi #arc 2 #if anyone is rude on or about this post ur getting blocked #if u know you're not going to like or agree with it just don't read it #s7 #tdp broyals #predictions achieved

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yatori-morgana · 2 months ago

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(Minimal proofreading)

Was speculating some random mer biology with Mom. First, I mentioned how we're all dying to see if Georgina gets an on-screen merform for obvious reasons — but I also have a question it'd answer.

There are two types of mer I've taken note of: those with human upper halves, and those that are more fishy all over like the octotrio. Do the more fishy mer have breasts similar to us, or don't they? We know the humanoid ones do. Mom and I speculated, if so, they might just have the fat, and it could work for buoyancy. There's a reason we have the phrase "tits up", haha.

We know that male merfolk like the octotrio don't have nipples. Yes, some anime art styles, for some reason, don't draw men with nips, but we've seen that's not the case for TWST in the Stitch event. So that means it was a deliberate choice to draw them without. That's what makes me question if female mer like them would have anything of the sort, even just fat stores or what have you.

If you wanted to speculate a bit more, you could point out that Azul, like tweels, has no nipples, but he's an octomer exactly like Ursula — who is canon and has titties. In that case, it's likely either to:

1. Blend in Elder Scrolls argonian-style

2. Buoyancy specifically

3. Fat stores specifically

4. A combination of the above

It's possible none of that is right, but I can't help but wonder a LOT.

Another thing I brought up is how a lot of us tend to agree that Mer run colder body temperatures. That's when Mom brought up it's possible they run warmer core temperatures because of how cold the sea is. Not their whole bodies — just around their organs, etc. That would mean, if they were injured, they wouldn't bleed a lot very fast because their blood isn't so close to the surface. I then said it would make sense because of how easily that'd attract predators otherwise, so bleeding less would work better. By that logic, they'd still be fairly cool to the touch.

She also mentioned rubbery skin textures because fish.

I then made mention of how, canonically, mer in human forms have healthy, moisturized skin, as it's how their mucus/natural films translated into the new body. That's where Azul got the idea (and resources) for Vil's new toner. I referenced how we all joke about not telling Vil what's in it, but I suddenly remembered something.

Would Vil really be bothered? Think about what goes into many other different beauty products. This might not be too bad in comparison to some things, and he may very well be used to the idea. (Then Mom said, "I mean, you know what's in Botox?" Lmao)

Naturally moisturized skin may also be why Georgina looks rather young in comparison to some. We can still see the shadow of wrinkles, but it isn't very pronounced.

Speaking of Georgina, people keep mentioning her lack of a ring. It's possible she just doesn't like wearing rings over gloves, or it could be different cultures again. Who's to say it's a marital band that bonds her and Mr. Leech? It could even be less complicated than that, even — it could just be a different piece of jewelry altogether. For all we know, it's her earrings. We have no idea because we don't know much about mer culture as a whole, nor do we know the specifics of her relationship with her husband.

AND ANOTHER THING ABOUT MER BIOLOGY.

Have you ever tried taking a bite of plant matter and chewing it with only your sharper teeth? It's not that easy. I can say from experimentation and literal science that flat teeth are better for that sort of thing, yet the tweels never mention struggling with it? They only have sharp teeth, but we know they eat fruits and vegetables, like how Jade ate apples during the Harveston event.

That's when Mom said they might not be grinding it down, but rather cutting it into smaller pieces and swallowing those pieces whole. It could be that they typically don't struggle, as, for instance with an apple, it's the skin that really causes trouble — which could be another reason as to why Jade typically peels his. You know, even though most of the nutrients are IN THE PEEL.

Mom also pointed out that they could have a flatter bit in the back of their mouths behind their teeth they use to grind it down. We wouldn't know because we can't see that far back, haha. That falls into "do they have pharyngeal jaws" territory.

Technically, this is a non-issue, but it bothers me because they pay attention to so many other tiny details, but this, which feels obvious to me, is ignored. I just have weird focuses.

I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts on any of this, if you made it this far. Just some fun speculating and headcanoning.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst analysis #twst headcanons #jade leech #floyd leech #twst jade #twst floyd #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #mama leech #georgina leech #twst georgina #vil schoenheit #yatori's yapping

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miyuhpapayuh · 6 months ago

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edges of my mind. (in the works).

A/N: I know this isn't my usual fluff and smut, I wanted to try my hand at a psychological thriller type of story. So let me know what y'all think!

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

“What are you hiding from me?” She asks for the fourth time in ten minutes, growing more and more agitated and his fidgety body language.

“Nothin' Roni, I said to drop it.” He huffs, pushing past her once more.

“I'll drop you on your ass, Moonie. Quit walking away from me.”

“Woman,” he sighs, turning to face her. “I don't wanna say something I'll regret, so please leave it be.”

She breathes through her nose as he turns away from her to sit at the table. Her family stares at the couple awkwardly, wondering if they should say something or not.

Taking a seat beside him, she stares at the red velvet cake in the middle of the table, and the old kitchen knife next to it.

It was a little rusty since it'd been in the family for a generation or two, but it was still getting the job done so Roni kept it.

Soon, the awkwardness left the air and little conversation started here and there, but Roni was still fixated on what Moonie could be hiding in that closet.

“What's in the closet?” She asks, again. This time, it was very calm.

“Roni, please. Not now.”

“Then when?” She asks, she stares in his direction.

“I-I,” he starts, failing to finish his sentence, much to her dismay.

“You're a liar. So full of shit, I knew you were cheating on me.” She humorlessly chuckles, gaining everyone's attention again.

“What? Moonie, how could you?” Brenda, Roni’s older sister says.

“I'm not cheating on you, Roni! What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem? The only thing I've been trying to get done was you giving me the answer to the simple fucking question I asked you,” she yells, leaning over to cover her niece's ears.

“Stop cussin’ in front of that baby,” he shakes his head, “I'm not doing this with you, right now.”

“Why not??” She screams.

“Because it's not that fucking simple! Why won't you just fucking drop it!?” He yells back, getting in her face.

It wasn't until after she'd already picked up the knife and stabbed him, that she'd realized the gravity of what she'd just done.

Everyone in the kitchen shuffled about, their younger sister, Janet, grabbing the knife from Roni, moving a bleeding Moonie to the bathroom, ridding him of his stained shirt to patch his wound, moving the kids up and away from the kitchen altogether to the living room that's deeper into the house.

“Jesus Christ, Roni!” Her mother yells, “what the hell is going on with you two?!”

“He w-wouldn't tell me.. I didn't mean t-to..” she shakes, unable to finish her sentences.

“Lord, Janet!” She calls out, grabbing a hold of her arm as she passes by the room Roni is in. “Janet honey, watch your sister while I go and clean up this mess. We've got guests coming in like twenty minutes!”

“Aw, I thought we were gonna play hide the murderer!”

“Very funny. Sit down.”

Turning back down the hall, she finds Brenda soaking the shirt in bleach in the bathroom.

“Where'd Moonie go?”

“He went out back, said he needed to get away from the smell of bleach of sumn,” she shrugs. “It doesn't bother me.”

“That's cause you put it on your scalp every other month.” She says, before walking back to the kitchen and out the back door.

“Son, I don't know what you and my Roni have going on but this is way too dangerous!” She sterns, looking in his sad eyes. They looked more droopy than usual.

“I'm sorry.” Is all he can get out, before he turns back to the trees.

“That's all you have to say, boy?”

“Unfortunately, I can't tell Roni what's going on. It's more complicated than she thinks.”

“Why don't you tell her that?”

“Well, she did just stab me,” he chuckles, wincing soon after. He grabs his wrapped side.

“Well I don't condone violence, so I'll definitely be talking to her about that. Why don't I go and get her? Maybe you two can talk?”

He looks over his shoulder at her wearily, as if he was afraid to see her again.

Mama excused herself anyway back into the house to retrieve Roni, who reluctantly agreed of course.

“Just talk to him. He seems sadder than usual. I think something might really be wrong.”

She sighs, before pushing through the door, only to find the space he stood in, now empty.

“I thought you said he,” she trails off, feeling her hands go numb.

“He was just out here, honey. Maybe he took off through the neighborhood?”

“Or maybe he took off, period.” She sighs, suddenly feeling sick.

“Well, he's patched up, at least he won't bleed out on the way to wherever he ran off to. Let's get you back inside.” Mama says, grabbing her left hand.

Twenty minutes later, the house is filled with family and friends, music spilling from the house to the streets where games are being played, drinks are flowing and gossip is hot.

“Roni, you good? Where's Moonie?” One of her uncles asks.

“I don't know, he took off earlier. Haven't seen him since.”

“Y'all get into it again?”

“Mhm. Same ol’ shit, unc. I don't wanna talk about it.”

“I got you, baby girl. Take my drink, I'll grab another.” He says, handing off his wine cooler.

“You better be glad it's my favorite flavor,” she dryly laughs, knocking it back without a thought.

Soon, she'd be on her fifth one and wobbling around the neighborhood with Brenda, trying to find her wounded lover.

“You think he's mad at you?”

“I guess I can't blame him for that, can I? I did stab him with a rusty knife, after all.” She laughs.

“Maybe he deserves it, Roni.” She stops in her tracks, looking at her intoxicated sister.

“What?”

“You heard me. I hate the way he talks to you! I never understood what you saw in him. He's arrogant. A know-it-all, a gaslighter!”

“Okay, okay… calm down. I know he's not the best man in the world. He's very much a gaslighter, but he turns on his charm and I just lose my mind, B. I don't know whether I'm coming or going sometimes with Moonie. He's got my head all screwed up!”

“I know! Look at where the hell you got us at!” She yells, making the birds in the trees overhead scatter.

“Brenda, what do I do?”

“Leave his crazy ass alone! Let the shadows he disappeared into swallow him up. He's no good for you, sis. You're gonna lose your whole mind if you keep this up.”

“What if he tells the cops?”

“You think he'd do that?”

“I don't know, we've never gotten into this much trouble arguing about shit. I'm not even scared, but what if he is.”

“Maybe he should be. You had enough.”

On the other side of the big oak tree, Moonie stood there, listening to them talk.

On one hand, he was terrified out of his mind that he'd pushed her to the point of harming him, never thinking she had it in her. But on the other hand, he wasn't sure if he even began to explain himself to her, that she'd understand.

“Of course I'd understand! That's all I try to do with his sorry ass!”

“Let's go deeper by that creek y'all like to hang by, maybe he's there and you can get the rest of your frustrations out.”

But he wouldn't be there. In fact, once they passed the tree, he'd disappeared right into those very shadows.

Tags for now: @megamindsecretlair @slippinninque @starcrossedxwriter @soufcakmistress @blackerthings @theereina @babybratzmaraj @hotgrlcece @blowmymbackout @abeautifulmindexposed @henneseyhoe @ghostfacekill-monger

let me know if you wanna be added!

#miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #black thriller #black writers #edgesofmymind-ff #black ocs #psychological thriller

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 years ago

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Hi! Hope ur doing great! First of all, I really love your fics! I think you're really talented.

I have a request, if it's not too much trouble. I can't stop thinking about a Steve w/head trauma (so, maybe migraine prone, memory issues, etc) and a DM Eddie that still resents Steve from high school. Eddie doesn't know Steve struggles with the complications of his concussions, so he keeps judging him for it. Say, for example, Steve got a terrible migraine and couldn't pick the kids up from Dnd and Eddie thinks he's probably at a party and stood them up. Then Eddie finds out, maybe from Steve himself or a Party member or Steve's parents. (If you could somehow sneak in Steve's parents being good caring parents for one, it'd be really cool.) Eddie apologizes and they start getting closer. And, yeah, that's all. Thank you!!!

We know I love writing Steve with a migraine. Not to jinx anything, but it's been almost two weeks since I've had one myself so I'm sure the torture I put him through here will have instant karma and I will wake up with one. Is it realistic for Eddie to pretty much fall instantly in love with a man he hated the night before? No. Do I write realistic stories? No. Buckle up for the fastest burn you can possibly read today! - Mickala ❤️

----------------------------------------------------------------

Steve Harrington was late.

Not just a few minutes late, not like he maybe got held up at a light for an extra two minutes, not like he had to stop for gas.

He was 25 minutes late.

Eddie was pissed.

He didn’t mind hanging out with the kids longer, wouldn’t have even minded if he’d just been given a heads up that Steve would be late.

A phone call.

A fucking letter by pigeon.

Anything.

Dustin seemed worried, more than anyone else, though the later it got, the more Lucas and Will and Mike seemed to worry too.

And Eddie would maybe worry too, except he knew what was happening.

He knew because it’s all he ever expected of Steve.

Steve probably went to a party, thought he could make his rounds, maybe have a drink and sober up in time to come get the kids.

And then he probably got bribed into having another drink, maybe smoke a joint in the backyard of whatever rich kid’s house he was visiting, maybe have a shot with a group of kids who liked to spend their time bullying the very kids he was supposed to be picking up.

Maybe fuck a girl in a bedroom upstairs until he was too tired and just passed out on top of her.

He rolled his eyes at the thought.

“Maybe we could try to call his house again?” Lucas asked.

“He didn’t answer the first four times, why would he now?” Mike asked, though his eyes kept scanning the road into the trailer park, searching for headlights that wouldn’t appear.

And wasn’t that just the last straw for Eddie? Watching his favorite gremlins admire and respect someone who couldn’t even remember to pick them up? Watching them expect so much from a guy who peaked in high school, who didn’t care about them if it hindered his plans?

“You guys wait here,” he said, his hands shaking with anger.

“Where are you going?” Will asked.

“To call Robin. If anyone will know what’s up, she will,” he replied.

It was late, but not too late for a phone call between adults.

“Buckley residence, you’ve got Robin,” Robin answered the phone with a bored tone.

“Any clue why your best friend is 30 minutes late to pick the kids up from my house?” He tried not to sound angry at her, it wasn’t her fault.

But he couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t understand what band nerd, lesbian, nice person Robin could possibly see in Steve.

Sure, he carted the kids around a lot, and had helped Wayne out with Eddie’s medical stuff after Vecna, but it felt like he did it out of guilt more than anything else.

“He’s never late,” she said, her tone sharp, defensive. “You sure he knew they needed rides?”

“Positive. I heard him yell to them when he dropped them off that he’d see them in three hours.”

Robin didn’t respond for a minute, and he almost thought the line went dead.

“Has Dustin tried the walkie?” She finally asked.

“Yeah. No answer.”

“Shit.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Wanna fill me in here, Buckaroo?”

“Um. Can you bring the kids home? I gotta go check on him.”

Before he could respond, the dial tone let him know she was already gone.

“Fuck!” He yelled.

He hung up the phone and grit his teeth together.

The problem wasn’t taking the kids home, he really didn’t mind and had told them on multiple occasions that he could so they didn’t have to rely on Steve to do it.

The problem was that they had relied on Steve and he let them down.

He hated that he’d have to go out there and tell them that Steve wasn’t coming.

He hates Steve for the way he would have to watch their faces fall, for the way they’d ride to their homes in silence.

He hated Steve for the fact that he’d probably buy them all ice cream tomorrow to apologize and they’d all rely on him again.

All would be forgiven.

———————————-

The next morning, he tried calling Robin and got no answer.

He tried calling Dustin and got no answer, though he wasn’t as surprised by that since he’d already been considering going to the Sinclairs’ to spend the weekend since his mom was working.

He tried Steve’s house and got an answering machine. Twice.

He considered leaving a scathing message, but didn’t want to risk one of his parents hearing it and deleting it.

“Fuck it,” he said to himself before he grabbed his keys and decided to drive to Steve’s house.

He was a little surprised to actually see Steve’s car in the driveway, half expecting him to still be passed out at some stranger’s house.

Before he could ring the doorbell, the front door swung open and Robin’s wide eyes were silently begging him to stay quiet.

She looked exhausted, a little flustered, more stressed than he’d seen in a long time.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Maybe Steve drank more than he should’ve, maybe he wasn’t actually home and she was trying to find him still.

“Come in but be quiet. He’s finally sleeping,” she said, already walking back into the house.

He followed, closing the door behind him and giving his surroundings a quick look.

Everything looked perfect as usual except for Robin’s shoes by the door and her backpack open on the floor by the couch.

The couch that Steve was currently passed out on, blankets almost completely covering his head, ice pack resting over his eyes.

Eddie’s brows furrowed.

“Hangover?” He whispered to Robin.

She looked at him confused.

“No? He hasn’t drank in nearly a year.”

If Eddie didn’t have more control over his body, his jaw would’ve dropped.

“Oh. Um. So is he sick?” Eddie tried to gather up his thoughts, glancing over at the sleeping form on the couch.

He noticed the curtains closed and no lights turned on, noticed the complete silence in the house except for the sound of a fan running in the corner.

“He gets migraines. I thought you knew,” she said.

Eddie shook his head.

“He’s had a lot of head trauma. Gets migraines that make it impossible to even sit up sometimes. I guess he was fighting it most of the day yesterday but after he dropped the kids off with you, he passed out in the shower and barely was able to crawl to his bed after. When you called me, I kind of assumed the worst, so I came straight here and saw him naked and shivering in bed, not able to get up to get dressed or even get the covers on. Got him dressed, got him water and meds, called his parents, tried to help him eat. He spent almost an hour throwing up after that. Then he cried because he forgot the kids. Memory problems happen with the head trauma, too. I couldn’t calm him down until about an hour ago.”

Eddie let himself feel the guilt he deserved for thinking the worst of Steve.

Steve didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Eddie whispered, his voice broken thinking about how Steve had been alone here, probably scared when he was curled up in his bed unable to move.

“No. His parents are on their way. If it’s not better tomorrow, they’ll probably take him to his neurologist,” Robin responded.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

A whimper came from the couch, causing Robin to tense and hold her breath.

Eddie looked over and waited to see if maybe Steve was completely awake or if he’d just made a noise in his sleep.

After a few seconds, Robin relaxed, and he felt a breath leave his body.

“How often does this happen?” he whispered as she went to grab a drink from the fridge.

“This bad? Once a month or so. He sometimes has some memory problems without the migraine, but luckily he snaps back quickly,” she shrugged, acted as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Eddie could see right through her.

“And you help him a lot?”

“Well, his parents travel a lot for work, and he can’t always call them or remember how to contact them when it’s this bad, so yeah. I tend to be the one to take care of him until they can get here,” she said.

Eddie chewed on a piece of his hair, glancing over towards the couch every few seconds.

He was surprised this hadn’t come up before.

He was even more surprised that none of the kids had mentioned this as a possibility last night.

“Why didn’t the kids mention it last night when I was pissed?” he finally asked.

“Steve doesn’t really tell anyone. Like, the kids know, but they’ve never actually seen it, and so I think they just kinda forget. He doesn’t wanna bother them with it.”

“That’s stupid, they care about h-”

The front door started to open and a woman peeked her head inside.

Robin ran over as quickly and quietly as she could and Eddie stood awkwardly behind the couch as a middle aged woman walked into the house.

A man followed a few seconds after, a bag in hand.

“Is he asleep?” the woman asked.

“Yeah,” Robin replied before explaining much of what she’d already told Eddie to them.

The Harringtons looked surprisingly put together for a couple who probably hadn’t slept all night and most likely had flown home from somewhere as quickly as they could. They also looked nothing like what Eddie expected.

Mr. Harrington was bald, age spots on his head giving away that he must have been quite a few years older than Mrs. Harrington. She had the same color hair as Steve, same voluminous style, cut just above the shoulders. They both wore glasses, and both of them were wearing business attire like they’d rushed back directly from a meeting.

“And who is this?” he heard Mr. Harrington ask, gesturing towards Eddie.

He walked over and put his hand out to shake, trying to remember the best manners he could.

“I’m Eddie, a friend of Steve’s.”

He could feel Robin staring at him, but didn’t turn towards her. Instead, he shook Mrs. Harrington’s hand and then offered to help with any other bags they have.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We can get them later. Since he’s asleep, we’re gonna go freshen up a bit and then you can head on home. Thank you for taking care of him, Robin. You know we appreciate you so much,” Mrs. Harrington said as she hugged her.

“It’s never a problem. Take your time,” she said.

“I’ll stay, Robin. You should go home and sleep,” Eddie offered before he could think about what he was offering.

“You’ll stay? With Steve?” Robin asked incredulously.

“Yeah. He seems pretty out of it so I’m sure he won’t even wake up before they’re done,” Eddie said, hopeful that he was right.

“Alright, my mom should be here in a few minutes anyway. She was bringing me a change of clothes in case I ended up staying today, so she can just bring me home,” Robin said hesitantly.

“Okay.”

The Harringtons nodded and walked upstairs without another word, most likely too tired to care much about who stayed with Steve as long as he was being looked after.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this,” Robin said when they were gone.

“I know. But I’m the only one here who slept last night, I can handle it for a bit.”

“He can be…kind of a lot,” she sounded like she didn’t want to admit it, didn’t like saying something negative about him at all.

“It’s fine. If he’s in this much pain, then it’s understandable.”

Robin looked him over for a moment, something like understanding finally showing on her face. He didn’t know what she was understanding, but he was just grateful she didn’t seem to want to talk more.

She started zipping up her backpack, putting on her shoes, and whispering some basic instructions to Eddie in case Steve woke up.

“Replace the ice pack, don’t let him try to move off the couch by himself and only if he has to use the bathroom. The bucket at the end of the couch is if he gets sick. He needs water if you can try to help him drink some, and if he thinks he can stomach it, there’s some crackers on the coffee table. He’s due for more meds in two hours, but you probably won’t be here for that,” she rambled off.

Eddie nodded along, mentally making a to-do list.

“You’re sure you got it? He sometimes isn’t able to talk.”

Jesus Christ, how had he never noticed this? Was he that oblivious to what Steve was going through?

“I got it.”

He could hear a car pull into the driveway and Robin opened the door to leave.

“If you need me, call me. The Harringtons will probably be as quick as possible, but just in case,” she begged him.

“Okay.”

She left and closed the door behind her quietly, leaving Eddie staring at it for a minute.

He heard a small whimper from the couch and he rushed over, looking down at Steve.

The ice pack had fallen off his face, and his eyes were scrunched closed like he was still suffering even in his sleep.

Eddie leaned over to pick up the ice pack, ready to trade it out with a fresh one, when one of Steve’s eyes opened.

He froze and looked at him, hoping he would go back to sleep quickly.

“Eds?”

Shit.

He’d started calling him Eds in the hospital, always walking into his room with a bright smile and a ‘hey, Eds’ that had Eddie cracking a small smile.

He hadn’t heard it since then.

“Yeah?” he finally responded, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.

He knew when Wayne got headaches, he was very sensitive to noise.

“Hurts,” Steve whimpered out.

Eddie’s heart shattered in his chest.

He walked closer to the couch and knelt down on his knees, placing a hand on Steve’s forehead.

“I know, Stevie. You wanna try to have a sip of water for me?” He whispered.

“No, hurts.”

“Might help,” Eddie tried to bribe him.

But Steve’s eyes were closed again, and even though he wasn’t asleep, he was making it very clear that he couldn’t quite handle keeping them open right now.

Eddie gently ran his fingers back and forth across his forehead, down his nose, along his temples, smiling as Steve’s wrinkles seemed to disappear, his face relaxing slowly.

“Go back to sleep, Stevie,” he whispered.

“Mhm,” Steve let out before he seemed to actually fall back asleep.

—------------------------------

Eddie didn’t move from his spot for nearly 45 minutes, even when his legs went numb and his hand started cramping.

Steve hadn’t so much as snored, so Eddie didn’t want to risk any movement waking him up.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mrs. Harrington asked him, startling him slightly.

“No, thank you,” Eddie responded as quietly as possible.

“Are you the Eddie from the hospital? The one he insisted on visiting every day?” she asked as she sat down on the coffee table right next to him.

“Um, yes ma’am,” he knew he sounded nervous.

“Oh, so you boys worked it all out? He promised he’d tell me if you said yes!” she smiled at him.

“Worked…what out?”

Her eyes widened.

“Your feelings! Steve told us he was going over to your house the day you got out of the hospital and telling you how he felt,” she explained, sounding somewhat unsure now.

Eddie felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor.

“He what?”

“Oh dear,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap. “I suppose I was wrong.”

Eddie saw Mr. Harrington walk into the kitchen from his spot on the floor, felt the tension in the air as Mrs. Harrington tried to change the subject quickly.

But he wasn’t going to stop thinking about what she meant.

Steve had had feelings for him? Like, more than a friend feelings?

Steve let out a small groan in his sleep, shifting his head a bit.

Eddie tried to shush him a bit, running his fingers gently through his hair, careful not to catch on any tangles.

He could feel Mrs. Harrington watching, but she didn’t say anything else until Steve seemed to calm again.

“You know, Steve came out to us in March. Said he’d met a guy who was worth the risk. We love him, we always will, but we were very worried. I think any parent worries when their child, even their grown ones, says they’re in love with someone. In this case, we didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you even liked men. And Steve here tends to fall fast and fall hard and forgets to wear a parachute before the jump.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, his head filled with the way she’d called his feelings love.

“But I think I see now that he didn’t need one. I think he had you jumping with him and you remembered the parachute for him.”

He turned to look at her, her fond smile pointed at them both as he continued to run his fingers through Steve’s hair.

She got up and went into the kitchen, leaving Eddie to think about what she said.

That’s all he did for a while.

—---------------------------------------

The next time Steve woke up, he was slightly more coherent, but still didn’t want to eat or drink.

Mrs. Harrington had gone to lay down for a nap while Mr. Harrington was finishing up something in his office. They both told him to come find them if Steve woke up and needed something.

At some point, Eddie had rested his head against Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beat loudly against his ear.

“Eddie?”

No, why Eddie again? Why not Eds?

“Hey, Stevie,” he lifted his head and spoke just above a whisper. “How about a few sips of water?”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. I’ll help.”

Robin had been kind enough to find a straw for the cup of water she’d gotten before she left, so Eddie just held it up close to Steve’s lips and told him to sip.

Steve did manage a few sips before he shook his head and started to turn away.

“It’s time for more meds. Wanna take them?” Eddie asked.

“Bed?”

“Um.”

“Carry me.”

Eddie let out a small laugh at the demanding tone in Steve’s voice.

Even through the pain, and exhaustion, and struggle of speaking, he sounded like a drama queen.

Eddie might love him.

“Won’t that hurt?”

“A little.”

“Then shouldn’t you stay here?”

“Wanna cuddle.”

Oh.

“Uh. With…your mom?”

“You.”

Eddie was going to pass out.

There was no way he’d be able to carry Steve up the stairs to his room and then cuddle with him, and pretend he wasn’t feeling the overwhelming urge to propose marriage.

These new feelings kicked in too fast for him to process and he knew cuddling wouldn’t help.

“Please?” Steve asked, his eyes squinting slightly from what little light was making it through the curtains.

“Okay, but don’t laugh when I get out of breath.”

Steve didn’t respond, or really do anything to acknowledge what Eddie said, but he was pretty sure Steve’s head hurt too much to laugh anyway so he took a chance.

He removed the blankets on top of him and managed to pick him up relatively easily.

The walk to the stairs wasn’t bad.

The walk up the stairs was rough for a couple reasons: One, Eddie was out of shape and Steve weighed roughly the same as him. Two, Steve kept whimpering in pain with every step.

When they finally reached his bedroom, Eddie was panting and Steve had a couple tears falling from his eyes.

“I sure hope the cuddling lives up to expectations after that,” Eddie tried to joke.

“Worth it,” Steve sighed.

He set Steve in his bed first, made sure the fan in the room was on and the curtains were shut, then got into his bed.

People dreamed for most of high school to be in this position, but Eddie hadn’t let himself picture it.

He wouldn’t have ever pictured this scenario anyway.

Steve was sweaty, almost like he was running a fever, but Eddie didn’t let that deter him from scooting closer and moving Steve into his arms.

They both fell asleep in minutes, Eddie’s fingers wrapped up in Steve’s hair.

—----------------------------------------

When Eddie woke again, it was pitch black in the room.

Steve was also awake.

“Stevie? You need something? Feeling any better?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, and Eddie considered running to get one of his parents, when he finally spoke up.

“A little. Thanks”

Eddie let out a breath and relaxed back against the pillows under him.

“You can go if you want,” Steve nearly whispered into the darkness.

Eddie tensed again as he looked over at Steve, who was playing with the blanket covering him in his hands, not looking at Eddie.

“And if I don’t want to?” Eddie asked, reaching a hand out to hold Steve’s.

“I know you hate me, so. You can go.”

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Eddie couldn’t let him think he hated him, even though up until this morning, he thought he did.

“Stevie, lay down and look at me.”

Steve, surprisingly, listened and Eddie felt a tug at his heart that Steve was willing to listen to him that easily.

Eddie cupped Steve’s jaw, gentle in case of any lingering migraine pains.

“I don’t hate you. I think I realized that maybe I had my own feelings wrong for a long time,” he admitted.

“What?”

“The best part of my days in the hospital were when you visited. Wayne used to make fun of me when you left for being stuck in the hospital for longer because I was lovesick. And when I got home and you didn’t come visit unless you were bringing the kids by, I just kinda thought it meant things were back to normal. King Steve didn’t need to be nice anymore, his charity case was safe and mostly healed,” Eddie stopped Steve from interrupting at that, scared to lose his train of thought. “So I went back to hating you. It’s easier to hate someone when your heart’s broken, ya know? And I just assumed you were the same Steve I thought you always were. But then I realized that you never really were the Steve I thought you were. And especially now, you’re a guy who deserves kindness and care and love. I’d really like the chance to give that to you.”

He felt Steve’s face getting wet and he brushed his thumbs back and forth to wipe away the tears falling.

“I was going to tell you the day you got out of the hospital,” Steve said, voice trembling.

“Tell me what?”

“That I loved you.”

The world stopped spinning, Eddie would bet money on it.

“You did?”

“I did.” Steve gulped. “I do.”

“You do?”

“You’re a hard person to fall out of love with, Munson.”

It was Eddie’s turn to cry, a few tears falling from his eyes onto the pillowcase below.

“So…”

“So?” Steve asked.

“Is the headache better? I’d really like to kiss you,” Eddie said.

“It’s good enough for a kiss. Might even work better than the meds,” Steve’s smirk could be seen even in the darkness.

Eddie didn’t need to wait for more permission than that.

He was gentle, of course. Just because his migraine had gotten better, didn’t mean he was ready to make out.

He gave him a couple soft pecks on the lips, smiling when he felt Steve smiling against him.

“I think you’re probably pretty easy to fall in love with, Harrington.”

“Yeah?” he asked, voice rough.

“Yeah, might be a new record for me.”

“I’ve been told it’s very sexy when I’m suffering through a migraine,” Steve joked.

“You have no idea,” Eddie joked back.

They stayed in bed all night, Steve eventually falling back asleep again.

Eddie stayed awake though, memorizing the shape of Steve’s body with his fingers, or at least what he could reach while he held him.

They could talk more tomorrow, when Steve’s migraine fully subsided.

But Eddie knew what he wanted now, and he’d never been so happy to be wrong about someone.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #ficlet #request #steve harrington has head trauma #hurt/comfort #getting together #angst with a happy ending

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barlowstreet · 1 month ago

Note

If you could rewrite tlou season 2 what would happen in it?

You trying to get me in trouble, anon? :P Just for the record, this is the only time I'm gonna answer this and this is also the answer to "if you were to write a tlou2/season 2 fix-it fanfic what would it be" because I am also never gonna do that.

Putting this under a cut for long

Okay, so my opinion is that killing Joel off is cheap and boring and honestly just cruel. I think it is much harder and more complicated and complex to make people actually live with their choices and the consequences of their choices. Death is easy, in fiction.

If you want a completely different plot, I might go with Ellie finds out about Joel lying to her (and I wouldn't do a long estrangement, but I might let her believe it longer) and then have her leave. Maybe she hears about another Firefly group and tries to go track them down. You could have Joel following her or something, even, adding conflict between them or you could have him catch her to her fairly fast and her make him pick going with her or she never speaks to him again.

Then let her choose. There's more than one doctor in the world, and if it's been long enough, why couldn't they find another that thinks they could do it? Bring them back to the same place narratively, but separate her and Joel again and let her choose. Make it long enough that she has friends and you can still put in Jesse and Dina and whatever you want, like give her family and things to live to. Make her not a suicidal fourteen year old, let her actually heal some of her trauma, and let her realize "Oh, shit this is not okay."

If you wanna be really mean, you could make it so she has to choose between the vaccine and Joel. I dunno, maybe have her realize the Fireflies are going to kill him so he doesn't stop them again.

OR my other idea would be basically the same thing as it's doing (minus the... really dumb plot points like 2 people patrols) except Ellie only thinks Joel is dead. Kinda like spiral fractures, except I would make him actually pretty hurt. Like almost a coma, they don't know if he's gonna wake up, etc.

Because I think Abby would be a lot more interesting as a character (and actually redeemable) if she gets to the point of nearly killing Joel but then not being able to actually do it. Imagine she's standing over him, he's bleeding on the floor, helpless, and all she can hear is Ellie begging for her dad not to die, and all she can see is her own dad, and she can't do it. She can't make another girl a fatherless daughter.

Have Ellie go after Abby the same as she does, but the whole time, have Ellie think Joel is dead. Honestly you could speed up the timeline and have her burning so hot with revenge that she's following Abby while still hurt, half-killing herself in the process. She just has to believe Joel is dead.

Then in their confrontations they BOTH have to be wrestling with guilt and grief and, you know, do whatever you want with that. But Ellie eventually still makes the choice to stop, though I'd let Abby taunt her about Joel maybe being alive and her leaving him to increase the guilt, but let Ellie think he's dead and still choose to stop the revenge thing because she can see how endless it is and she wants to choose to be better.

It's choices and what she does have to offer the world. Have Abby scream at her about how unfair it is that she had her dad and her family and a really amazing little town and she's still so unhappy, and okay, you didn't make a vaccine, so what did you do to make your life so worthwhile? I think it'd be good to really emphasize that what Ellie has is what Abby wants so, so badly. Accuse her of wasting it and not appreciating it, like echo Marlene saying, "Don't waste this gift" to Joel.

Honestly, let Abby forgive Ellie for being alive, even. Like maybe not for the killing her dad thing, but for just being another kid in a messed up world who didn't deserve to die. Let her look at this kid who's younger than her and still just a messed up kid and let her forgive her for living and tell her to go home and live.

And then when Ellie goes home to Jackson, obviously he's not dead, and she sits at his hospital bed and says she forgives him or is going to try to forgive him, whatever you want. She falls asleep on the bed, and she's woken up by a voice going, "Hey, kiddo."

Smash cut to black, end of show.

Because the act of forgiving someone for something that is unforgiveable is always going to be more interesting when they're alive to deal with the consequences than if they're dead. It just is. Redemption through death is boring.

Also no homophobic Joel.

#asks #answered #Anonymous #the last of us #tlou hbo #anti-tlou2 #see how that's tagged as anti-tlou2?#if you don't want to see anti-tlou2 stuff blacklist it #don't come and yell at me about how i'm “main tagging” this is my blog and i tag how i want #(not you anon i had an annoying person)

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inkandarsenic · 1 month ago

Text

The little scene i couldn't get out of my head lol

"No," Eleyna laughs awkwardly. "I, um, i have this rule?" She chances a glance up at the man she's spent the last hour hiding out with - Robb Stark, just as charmingly disarming as Arianne Martell had always claimed. His eyes are still on her, not looking around the club for someone more interesting at all. She continues, feeling more confident. "See, uh, most people I've dated thought I was going to be like Margaery, since we're best friends. And I love Margaery, I do, but she's so... confident and flirtatious and you know, she's got a, a bit of a reputation," her voice goes sharp and protective, "that she's very proud of, mind you, but I've never been able to be like her. And when people find that out, they break up with me to go after Margaery." Eleyna shrugs, looking down at her drink. It's some pink, fruity thing Margaery had shoved into her hands -- liquid courage, my love, she'd said. "It's fine. It hur-- but I'm used to it. Tired of it, though, so I decided back in university that I was done." She looks up and across the club at where Margaery is poking at Loras. Why had she just said all that?? Robb Stark doesn't want to hear about her pitiable dating life. She remembers suddenly why it'd been such a surprise to see him here, and she groans quietly in embarrassment, the sound lost in the music. Gods, she's such an idio-- "Done?" Her head snaps to face him. He raises a eyebrow questioningly. "You said you have rule, but you didn't say what it was." "...right. sorry," she shakes her head. "I don't get close to people, or, y'know, date. It's just going to end anyway, so why not save myself the time, right?" "So that's why you're hiding in this dark corner." There's a hint of amusement in Robb's tone. "Hey, you're here, too." "So I am." He leans closer and points out two men. "My cousin Jon and my best friend Theon. My uncle is getting married in a couple months and they've taken it upon themselves to find me a date." "Ah. Meddling friends. I'm familiar." Eleyna leans her own head closer to his and points out the Tyrell Twins. "Margaery and Loras declared my life in dire need of fixing, and Margaery claims she can't watch me sit alone at another Tyrell gala." They watch Margaery shove a man at Loras. Robb is a line of heat at Eleyna's side, distractingly good-smelling, and his low laugh rumbles in her ear. "I thought Loras Tyrell was dating Renly Baratheon?" "Mm," Eleyna hums. Renly and Loras were... complicated, and currently Renly was caving to his brother's demand that he try dating some Stormlands girl. Eleyna had provided the ice cream and alcohol for Loras and Margaery's midweek therapy session. "They're having an off period right now." Margaery turns and Eleyna isn't fast enough to duck out of her sight. Her best friend beelines over to their corner. "Eleyna! Why are you hiding in a corner, darling?" At the same time, Jon Snow corners in on Robb. "You've left me alone with Theon for an HOUR now, Robb!" Eleyna is trying to answer Margaery's barrage of questions about why you're hiding away with Robb Stark, babe, do you KNOW who he IS? when Robb suddenly takes her hand and pulls her into his side. Eleyna can hear Margaery bite off a squeal. "Jon, can I introduce Eleyna Lannister? I'm going with her to the Tyrell gala next month, and if all goes well, she'll be coming to Edmure's wedding with me." Three shocked faces stare at him. Eleyna quickly clears her throat and forces her expression into something she hopes resembles already knowing about this. "See, Marg, everything's fine. Don't worry about me." Jon and Margaery exchange a look that is far too loaded, in Eleyna's opinion, for two people who have never really interacted before. She glances up at Robb and watches him flash a fleeting smile at Jon, his hand snaking around Eleyna's waist. "We're all good here, Jon."

#inkandarsenic #game of thrones #robb stark #robb stark x oc #eleyna lannister #lannister oc #modern au #fake dating

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painted-bees · 11 months ago

Text

I went looking for a list of OC questions that had a majority of things I hadn't answered yet wrt the hi-note trio, and found this lil' one abt "love and relationships" lmao I'm not gonna make anyone submit a number in my ask box for it, it's only 15 questions. I'll just answer them all for Margie and Raf under the cut.

1) How does your character view the idea of romantic love? Raf's got a complicated relationship with it. He's a very romantic person, and wants desperately to believe in the whole "true love "thing-- to believe that someone could love him just because it was predestined for them to do so, or because of some hard coding in their DNA or whatever--and that it'd work the same way for him, too. Just effortless, unquestionable, natural and unbreakable love. But that doesn't exist, it's a fantasy. People don't get into relationships unless there's something tangible in it for them--and then it's a tug-o-war of compromises and capitulations, and it's impossible to imagine anyone ever being truly happy and comfortable under the weight of an obligation as undefinable as 'love'. And so, he figures he'll be lucky if he can find someone he can tolerate, who can tolerate him--who might, once in a while, give him the euphoric feeling of being valued as a person rather than as an asset. And hopefully, those moments can outweigh the inevitable fights and disagreements, and all the emotional damages that arrive in those situations. As for Margie, there's no clear distinction between romantic love and platonic love for her, much of the time. She loves her friends all very intensely, and she loves her romantic partners in very much the same way! Her expressions of love do not change much between friends and lovers--and maybe for this reason, people who take the plunge into being a committed romantic partner with her find her to be somewhat underwhelming. There is very little difference between Margie as a friend and Margie as a romantic partner. There is very little difference between her definitions of these two things. Arguably, she's a very loving--but not a very romantic--person. She doesn't believe in soulmates or true love or any of these things, either. It feels too limiting. It puts so much unnecessary pressure on a single person and needlessly mystifies something that really shouldn't be all that strange or complicated.

2) What was your character's first heartbreak, and how did it influence their approach to relationships? Raf's first heartbreak, romantically...hm. He had a few friends who grew up with him, most of whom were also part of the junior classical music circuit; some of whom he kept in contact with even as his career pivoted away from the classical niche and into pop performance. I think perhaps there was one lass who he might have returned to Monaco for rather than fucking off to Juilliard--if she had returned his affections. He had confessed to her over the phone, just after being announced as a semi-finalist for a large, televised popular music competition. She asked him to call her again after the competition was over, when he was gonna come home. He didn't make it as a finalist, and she never answered his calls then after. So he followed his initial plans and absconded to Juilliard with a different friend who he awkwardly...briefly fell in with romantically instead. Who knows why she never answered his calls, but Raf has no doubt attributes the fact that he didn't make it as a finalist to the reason why she stopped talking to him. That was kinda the first and last time he made the first 'move' for a romantic relationship, and has since taken a much more disinterested, aloof approach...as with most things, really. Margie's first heartbreak was in grade five! She had a huge crush on a boy one grade above her, and mentioned it within earshot of one of her classmates from the 'popular' clique. Those girls got really excited for her and offered to help set her up on a date with him, got him to come over and ask her out during recess, and when she provided a very overenthusiastic, "yes!", Margie found that she had only been set up as the butt of a very hilarious joke between the lot of them. In that same interaction, the lad coined a new name for her, "FleaGirl", and it stuck all the way until she graduated highschool. It's still one of those embarrassing moments that crop up in her brain during the Midnight Carousel of Shame that keeps her awake during restless nights. As a teen, she started flirting with people as a joke, cuz that's her affection could really be–and she delighted in weirding people out with the overfamiliarity she performed. It felt nice though, when the other person would volley back and try to out-skeeze her. She still doesn't know how to flirt in earnest, and will always make a joke out of her affections. It's always kinda up to the other person to respond sincerely if they're actually interested in her.

3) Does your character believe in soulmates, and why or why not? HAH woops, I accidentally answered this in the first question lmao

4) What traits does your character find most attractive in others? Raf values honesty and genuine expression. He really...really loves joyful, unironic cringe. Like, there's something really attractive to him about a person who can let their guard down in order to fully enjoy something. He's really attracted to people who seem impervious to expectation and can cut through what he perceives as the superficial, performative gestures of day to day interactions. Sometimes that takes the form of a counter cultural "I don't care what they think of me" rebellious personality. Sometimes it takes the form of, well...[[gestures at Margie]]. Also, he'd never admit this, but Raf is attracted to messes that he can clean up. Margie is attracted to nice hair, cute smiles, and warm kindness. Unprovoked kindness towards her is the fastest way to make her fall in love with you. The other is casual, affectionate physical touch. She is not immune to a well groomed sense of style and easy confidence, either. If someone is well dressed with nice hair, a straight, open posture, and a warm smile--that's an attractive looking person to her.

5) What does your character fear most in a relationship? For Raf, it's expending his usefulness and being discarded. In every relationship, he's waiting for that one chance to prove that he can't give, or be, or provide what his partner was hoping to get out of him. Or maybe they finally get what they were after and don't need to keep suffering the act of 'loving' him anymore. Or maybe something better will come along and make him redundant. He's always waiting for that other shoe to drop. His biggest fear is just learning that his partner was only pretending to love him, so as to pacify him while they extract from him whatever it is they wanted. For Margie, she's terrified of overstaying her welcome. She feels like as soon as she gets into a relationship a timer starts ticking down where, every day, she starts becoming a little less cute, a little less fun, a little more annoying, a little more difficult to live with. She's identified herself as a kind of 'manic pixie dream girl' that people initially enjoy because she's weird and quirky and playful. But the more time they spend with her, the less fun those things are. She never stops being weird and quirky and playful. There's no point where she is able to get serious and organise herself, and behave like a normal adult. No one wants to live with that for very long.

6) How does your character handle jealousy or insecurity in relationships? Margie has no jealousy. She's straight up chill to let her partners have other relationships or flings or whatever so long as they don’t lie to her about it. And she’s extremely trusting about this. Her insecurity about her own lack of desirability probably played a huge part in developing this polyamorous stance, but she genuinely does feel very comfortable and secure in it. Raf [[gritted teeth]] deals with it. Not very well, in previous relationships. Poorly, in fact. The very uncommitted, open ‘friends with benefits’ relationship he had with Margie for a while before he eventually admitted to himself that he really needs her to stay in his life–has done a lot of weird psychological lifting for him. There’s a really strong precedent for Margie to be honest with him about the nature of all her relationships. On top of this, she doesn’t have locks on her phone, she makes him hold her phone most of the time. She doesn’t care if he reads her messages or checks her emails [he Does Not Do This, if only for the exercise in restraint]. If he’s having the Weird Paranoia about Margie, the thought that “well, she’d let me go through her messages right now if I asked” is enough to leverage himself with. Sometimes he does ask, and she’s just like “sure, w/e”--and he pacifies himself on that without feeding the impulse further. And so, the paranoia usually picks a far more fruitful subject to latch onto.

7) What past relationship still impacts your character's current life?

Raf is still comparing and contrasting his current relationship with Margie to his previous relationship with Lacey…and has been learning a lot about himself through the differences. Lace was arguably his only other “real”/serious relationship before Margie, and it was such an absolute trainwreck. But it’s also just what he assumed relationships were Like. Nowadays, he kinda dreads ever meeting with Lacey again because most of what he has learned is that he absolutely could have, should have treated her better, and she deserves an apology.

Margie still thinks about her ex girlfriends in Montreal. She just really misses them a lot…She’d love to rekindle those friendships, and thinks there might still be a chance to do so, some day.

8) How does your character show love and affection?

While Raf hates to have things expected of him, treating and gift-giving is genuinely his biggest show of affection. It stops the moment he feels like he’s being taken for granted, or as soon as he gets even the faintest whiff of entitlement. He doesn’t take kindly to being “hinted” at any more than he appreciates being straightforwardly asked for gifts or favours. It’s the fastest way to get him to withdraw. But If he gifts things and he feels like the gesture is genuinely unexpected and appreciated–it’s almost kind of a bond-strengthening exercise in of itself. He enjoys being helpful and feeling needed and appreciated, he just pathologically hates being taken advantage of or used. So–like…a lot of love and trust goes into the act of Raf giving something. It puts him in a vulnerable position, because the way the gesture is received will forever colour his perception of the relationship and can really…make or break it for him–beyond reasoning or any logical recourse.

Margie shows her love and affection with physical closeness and careful patience. If there is someone she exceptionally loves and loves being around, she takes a lot of extra measures to make sure she doesn’t overwhelm them with her presence and she tries to really reign in how she acts around them so as to not be unpalatable. But she’ll drop her head on their shoulder or throw her legs across their lap. She’ll hold onto their arm while walking, and lean against them in casual settings. She just wants to exist in the same space, and reciprocated touch is a comforting reassurance that they do, as well.

9) What significant change has your character experienced in their understanding of love?

The biggest thing Raf has so far learned is that love isn’t a tug-o-war of compromises and capitulations after all. If you love someone, you genuinely want them to feel safe and happy and secure, and so you’ll give things up and change your behaviour willingly for their sake with very little sense of loss about it. They’ll do the same for you, and neither will keep score about who gave up what, or who was willing to do the most work for the relationship. In the end, it’s not about him vs her or who gets to live ‘better off’ in the arrangement–but it’s a matter of collaborating to build a comfortable, happy environment together. One’s happiness is the other’s happiness. Not a competition, not a game of carefully measured concessions. A better whole.

Margie has learned that she has a lot more to offer in a relationship than she thought; that emotional labour is an enormous contribution to a partner who is able to appropriately value it. Just because it comes easy to her doesn’t mean it’s worthless. Her love and affection is not a joke; it has meaning, it has worth. It’s worth a whole lot.

10) What sacrifices has your character made for love, and were they worth it?

Raf has to sacrifice his entire sense of safety and wellbeing every time he commits to a relationship. And, just this once, it’s been worth it.

For each person that Margie has pursued as a romantic partner, she has sacrificed a friendship and definitely mourns each one. Raf is the first time she’s not had to sacrifice anything.

11) How does your character's cultural or familial background influence their views on marriage and relationships?

Oh man lmao Raf’s Monegasque billionaire family dynasty…his parents genuinely really really love each other, but he has had very limited exposure to that. I don’t think he has ever seen them hug or hold hands, they stand very attractively next to each other and exude an imposing aura that commands respect. So…his idea of what marriage and relationships should look like is severely lacking. “Absolutely No PDA” has definitely stuck with him though.

Margie’s from a lower income northern Ontario blue collar family with a dad who probably still makes “ol’ ball and chain” jokes about his wife, and a mom who does all the cleaning and cooking and doesn’t really get to enjoy her hobbies outside of the house. Actually, in a small way, this has probably contributed to Margie’s lack of enthusiasm towards getting married. She doesn’t wanna be anyone’s ball and chain, she doesn’t want to cook and clean, she doesn’t want kids. She’s written herself off as being absolutely unfit for marriage. She thinks she’d be an abysmal wife lmao

12) Does your character have a relationship that everyone else misunderstands?

No lmao everyone around them understood Raf and Margie’s relationship better than they did themselves for a long while lmao.

13) How does your character handle rejection or unrequited love?

Raf has only really had to deal with this once, and he got pretty spiteful mad about it at the time. He also holds a mean grudge just…generally…so I do not think he’d be excited to ever meet her again.

After the initial emotional gut-punch, Margie suffers a lot of shame and embarrassment and gets really depressed and quiet for a few days until something new and shiny comes along to divert her attention away. Anytime she randomly remembers a rejection though, she gets to re-experience it all again for a brief moment lmao stings.

14) What lesson about love is your character still trying to learn?

Raf is still trying to really honestly believe that it can be this easy. He’s still waiting to hear what the catch is.

Margie still has to fully internalise that the people who love her don’t find her annoying and will never tire of her–and that she doesn’t have to apologise for existing as a person with wants and needs

15) How has your character's professional life affected their romantic relationships?

For Raf, it has severely limited his options–he refuses to date fans, past and present. If they recognize him as a public figure, but aren’t from a similar economic background as him, it’s basically a write-off in his mind. Eligible peers are hard to find…

For Margie, it’s uh…homelessness definitely complicates things. All of her relationships prior to Raf were plagued with financial stress…and that can probably be cited as a major reason as to why most of her relationships fell apart.

#Hi-Note #Magritte #Rafael

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greghatecrimes · 1 year ago

Note

I had a thought for your baby thirteen au!

I always see house as the type of parent to have separation anxiety,so logically he'd take thirteen with him to the hospital and it'd actually go great,house barely had any contact with the patient so he could just chill and be silly with her while the ducklings took care of the patient

But this time it was different,the case got too complicated and he had to step into action,but he can't bring his baby daughter to an autopsy so he lets her in the care of the ducklings while he's in surgery.

Oh but little Remy isn't having none of that,she's restless and pouty and constantly asking for her daddy,but its when the water works start that the ducklings really panick

The quick solution would be take her back to her father but he was knuckles deep in someone's liver right now so they would be needing the next best thing

So they take her down to Wilson's office

I imagine one of them just barging into the room and handing her over to Wilson as she enthusiastically spreads her arms to him and saying "here,take her, all she does is ask for her daddy and we don't know what else to do" and leave with a very stunned Wilson behind.

What they didn't realise was Wilson had a patient a sweet old lady who misunderstood the situation and immediately assumed Remy was Wilson's daughter and she'd be all "aawn doctor Wilson your daughter is really sweet,whats her name?"

And before he can explain thirteen isn't his daughter she's just clinging to him and resting her head In the crook of his neck making that point very hard to believe.

"Remy,her name is Remy" that's all he'd say before keeping the appointment with the sweet old lady while holding a very sleepy yet content thirteen!

Anon, I cannot express in words how adorable this is and how much I love it!!!

I so agree w/you about House being a bit of a parent with separation anxiety. I think he'd be like 'well if she's with me all the time, then she doesn't have as many chances to get herself into something and then that eliminates the need for worry. if it works it works.' i think bby thirteen would have less separation anxiety than him when she's very little (lol) but he's definitely her favorite person in the entire world, and so of course she ends up missing him when he gets pulled away for something intricate on a case.

i haven't given thought to who the ducklings would be in the au (besides taub vaguely), but i LOVE the ducklings trying to fix things and failing, and being clueless and eventually taking her to wilson. of course they go to wilson. it would be even funnier if house and wilson are like, together at that point, but not publicly out/together yet? so the fellows don't know that house and wilson are in a relationship; they just know wilson's always with house and bby thirteen/remy, and that bby thirteen trusts him and adores him.

ough. her nuzzling into the crook of wilson's neck and clinging to him. and wilson inadvertantly saying/accepting that she's basically his daughter too. stepdad wilson!! i'm emotional and melting into a puddle.

House comes back from the autopsy to find his office filled with ducklings, but very childless. After the initial burst of panic and snapping at them "What did you idiots do? Where is she?!", he immediately goes to Wilson's office once he gets an answer from them. And he just stands in the doorway for a few minutes, watching Wilson do paperwork with bby Thirteen cuddled up to him, and House has the softest smile on his face. the kind that only comes out around wilson and his kid. and then he'd break the reverie to say to Wilson "Aw, you sap. you like her."

And Wilson looks like he's about to protest, but then thinks better of it because he glances down and sees Thirteen smiling up at him (because her dad's back! yay, both dads together!!). He grins a little and very softly says, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

#ask #anon #IM DYING YHIS IS SO SWEET I ADORE IT #greg house #remy thirteen hadley #james wilson #hilson #baby thirteen au #baby ducks au

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tearwolfe · 11 months ago

Note

Okay, that's good to know. I might have other questions later as I think about things more/these Au's progress, but these are the ones I can think of atm. And please don't feel obligated to answer any of these, I just thought I'd ask.

(Also, I realized that all of these questions are somehow related to Leo/need? That was entirely unintentional, lol, my bad)

Cyberidol au- Does Saki and/or Leo/need exist in this AU? Do they play a part in the plot at all?

Maybe Saki doesn't show up physically in the current story events, but perhaps she's the one who inspired IdolKasa's initial, now-forgotten dream (like in canon), somebody he had pushed away for the sake of (or even due to) his desire for fame, and whose previous importance/presence in his life and her current distance from him will come to haunt him, now that everything he's worked so hard for (and his entire world view, hopefully) is starting to crumble.

Or maybe her role is more like Emu's- she loves her brother so much, and she's trying to push him down the right path and make him remember, but he just isn't not hearing her, no matter how hard she tries. Or maybe she's also stuck in a similar position in the entertainment industry along with the rest of Leo/need, or maybe they're in similar roles to Ruinene. So many possibilities.

(Wherever she is, I hope the Tenma's get to have a heartfelt reunion once Tsukasa gets his shit together.)

Seal Rui au- How exactly did the human/sea creature hybrids come to exist? It's been stated that Rui and the other sea people were kinda just born like that, and the humans are... Well, humans, but where did people like Honami come from? Were they also just born like that by chance, or are they the hybrid offspring of humans and sea people, or is it some secret third thing I haven't thought of? Is there an explanation at all?

Starshine au- You said in an earlier post that Saki, Toya, Haruka, and Kanade would also be little alien things along with Tsukasa (and you also said that this AU is RuiKasa centric, so I get it if you haven't thought about this at all), but what are the rest of Leo/Need up to? Do they still exist as a group just without Saki? Are Ichika, Honami, and Shiho not in a band/not friends at all in this AU? Do they act as hosts that Saki feeds off of like Tsukasa does to Rui? Are they also squishy little alien thingies?

Are all the other units essentially going through their own version of "what if this very important group member never actually existed as a human?" in the background while we focus on RuiKasa/WxS?

I highly doubt any of these things will ever come up in these stories proper, but I'm very curious about these things, lol. Thank you for responding <3

(Also, not a question, but if I had a nickel for every time Tsukasa in one of your au's was hiding from Saki that he was dating a nonhuman (seal Rui and vampire Rui), only for Saki to also be dating a nonhuman without him knowing, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's funny that it happened twice, lol.)

leo/need's role is similar to rui and nene's. i think it'd be fun if one (or more) of them were ex-idols (or formerly in the industry, if not an actual idol), but currently they're not. saki is estranged from tsukasa. i don't have much thought out for what's going on between them?? they do still care about each other, but tsukasa's head is so far up his own ass that saki has stepped back from trying to deal with him. it's very complicated between the two.. they'll still message or meet for birthdays/important events but it's Very Tense. and they're both secretly upset about it.

honami is the result of a human/sea creature hybrid! thus, she has legs.

the rest of leo/need exists in starshine, but they're not a band. they're former childhood friends.. funny enough, like in canon, saki does bring them together. she feeds off of all of them, just clinging to whichever one is currently feeling the worst. she doesn't really have to do much to manipulate any of them since she has three whole hosts. she's doing it better than tsukasa... but yes, pretty much! minori is haruka's host, akito is toya' host, mafuyu is kanade's host (though kanade doesn't really have to do much), and i'm thinking about also making an a little alien creature thang, with kohane as her host. because i think the vivids could still form without akitoya, and i cannot let that happen.

some things about AUs i have in my mind but never really talk about (since it's often not that relevant) so i'm always here to answer any questions <3

#ask #cyberidol au #seal rui #stashine au

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lullabyes22-blog · 5 months ago

Text

Snippet - He's Back - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

A confrontation long overdue.

(Happy Valentine's Day, folks :'D)

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

tw: angst

"I trust," Silco says, breaking the quiet, "you didn't take that personally."

"What, you bailing midway?"

"Hm."

She doesn't frown. But her dipped eyelids shield a stormfront. "...Look. This arrangement? If it's not working out—"

"You know that's not the case."

"No?"

"I only needed..." To put my pieces in back together. "...Space."

"Yeah?" A flash a familiar vigilance. "Sure it's not because of her?"

"Her?"

Does she mean Nandi?

Her sister's specter has ceased to interfere in the peripheries of their intimacy.

Or—gods, has she learnt about his dalliance with Medarda, the long-game laced together in exquisite deception?

Silco doubts it—he covers his tracks—but sometimes he underestimates the razor edge of Sevika's perceptiveness.

Too late to dissemble if that's the case. But before he braces for impact—before the blowback of her judgement leaves him a smoking crater—he prays for a chance to plead his case. To explain that Medarda balances on the precarious axis between personal proclivity and political leverage. To beg Sevika—

(Beg? That's unseemly for both.)

—convince her, that his attraction is a complicated calculus. His goals are on track, even if the rest's tangled in desire's gilded strings. He'll not deny the thrall Medarda exerts; the fascination of her nimble wit; a rare gift in reading people, even the darkest facets of his own nature.

But it's survival—not need—that shares their bed. It's common ground—not devotion—that drives their bargain. It's the irrevocable necessity of circumstance—not goddamn choice—that turns him to the enemy as he once turned to drugs, drink, dissipation.

There is no tether there. Only game after bloody game, Sevika, and if you give the word, I'll burn the board to the ground—

"Sevika," he begins. "I—"

As always, she preempts him. "Jinx."

Silco struggles to conceal his surprise. "...Jinx.."

"You miss her. Miss her so much you'd rather be here, with me, than alone in your penthouse."

"That's not true." It is, and isn't. "I'm not here for—"

"Don't deny it. There's a piece missing with her gone. And that piece won't be filled by any of us here."

"If by piece—," he dares a cautious sidestep "—you mean peace of mind—"

"You barely talk about her," Sevika cuts in. "Don't like to hear her mentioned. When I bring her up, you either ignore it, or change the subject. As if she's locked up somewhere too fucking precious to share with the rest of us. It'd be fine if you were at least drinking like a fish and smoking like a fiend and throwing yourself headfirst into anything involving disembowelment. Instead, you've been..." she gropes for a second. "Distant."

"Distant."

She gives him a meaningful look. "Like you're still in the Deadlands. Still… somewhere I can't follow."

Inwardly, Silco marvels. Outwardly, he says nothing.

It's true; he's kept himself to himself. Not because he's subsumed everything into his work—he has—but because he's lately sensed himself at a crossroads.

Not of Zaun but his own convictions.

Self-concept's not been in the cards for a while. It left when Jinx crashed into his life. Without her, he's not lost the measure of the game, but the measure of himself.

A father.

Except he's still Jinx's father. It defines him like a chalk outline around a corpse; a name carved on a gravestone. He'll always belong to her. No matter where their paths uncross into separate tangents, or where their roads lead together.

But Silco, himself? Beyond Zaun?

He's yet to find the answer, though tonight's left him on surer footing.

From the streets, fireworks spiral, then fade. In the spreading silence, Sevika says, "You can be not-okay, you know. Nobody'd fault you."

Her gentleness unsettles. His deflection is reflexive. "No, they'd simply kill me."

"They'd have to go through me," she says matter-of-factly, "And nobody gets through me."

They trade a brief smile. Tight as tethers go.

Sevika says, "I figured… that was why you let them stay over."

"Who?"

"Pearl’s girls." She sips slowly. Her chest—still faintly sweat-sheened—rises and falls in measured exhalations. "The entire time they were over, you were so... unlike you. Or maybe you: times ten. Like you'd be with Jinx, only... safer." Her eyes meet his. "You must miss it. Taking care of a kid who looks up to you like you're Janna's godsdamn gift."

"Pearl's kin look to the future. Not to me."

"You care about them." A beat, "Same way you must've cared about Pearl."

Silco steels himself against his habitual response: Admit nothing, deny everything, destroy everyone.

Instead, he takes a long swig of tea, buying time before the final draft.

"Yes," he says.

"Yes, what? Which part?"

"All of it." A deeper swallow; tongue weighing each word. "I did care for Pearl. She was fine company. Generous with herself, and patient with my inadequacies."

Sevika scoffs. "Those being?"

"We both know better than to enumerate." A shadow of a smile slinks across his lips, then fades. "It was good, what we had in the Ditch. Not a matter of what my body needed. More... what my self required. With Jinx gone, there was so little to steer me except survival. Except survival is a stalling tactic. It allows you to continue existing. But life, really living, requires meaning. And meaning demands engagement beyond oneself. Pearl gave me a second chance at that."

Silence from across the table. He waits her out: a stubborn force brooding in place. Finally Sevika shakes her head.

"I should've been there," she murmurs. "Should've gone with you."

"How could you have known I'd vanish?"

He thinks of all the things he could tell her of that time. His psyche-marred misery in wake of Jinx’s departure. His rage and emptiness. How he'd been left with the topsoil of his soul stripped bare. All that was left was a doppelgänger sustained on the fumes of memory.

A soulless medium compelled to descend to the darkest core to mine his purpose from stone.

Quietly, he says, "You pledged me your loyalty. Loyalty isn't grounds to follow a leader beyond death's door."

"Is that where you went? Six feet under?"

"A thousand fathoms deep." Draining the mug, he sets it aside. "That's where Pearl found me. Her, and her girls. And from there... they guided me back. In their ordinariness, they were extraordinary. They had such little in the world. Yet they fought for everything in it. Tooth and nail;, blood and bone. Life took nothing from them without paying a price."

Sevika regards her own mug. "So they helped you figure out how to live again."

A cogent summary. He nods.

"Were you and Pearl...?"

"In love? I'd not take it that far." Silco exhales. Pearl's presence is between his ribs—a vivid ache—but not a mortal blow. Her quintessence was pure steel; it'd steeled and purified him in turn. Even in his blackest mourning, he'll carry that unyielding framework into the future. "We suited each other. A simpatico of spirit and flesh. In another life—perhaps that would've sufficed. In this one..." He traces a fingertip down his left cheekbone: the rough corrugation of scar tissue like tear-tracks. "I'm grateful our paths crossed. But I'll always regret the way they did."

"Because she didn't make it."

"Because in seeking her out, I abandoned you."

Sevika doesn't flinch. But her expression, in tiny increments, softens. For the first time since his return, he sees forgiveness. Forgiveness, and a strange species of sorrow: as if she's bracing herself against worse to come.

She's already lost him in more ways than one; to war, to prison, to something else entirely.

To Zaun itself: the loss that keeps on giving.

"Do you ever wonder..." she falters, as if casual discourse might veer the night dangerously off-course. "...if it would've been better if we'd chosen a different path? Stayed apart, in Nandi's wake?"

"If our lives hadn't met at Zaun's center?"

"If the ...grief... hadn't changed us. If we never became this."

"This?"

"Us." She gestures: copper fingers singing on oiled servos. Their everlasting entanglement; their perpetual estrangement. "What if we'd kept it strictly business. No strings attached."

"Strings can be severance. Or safety ropes."

"What's the difference if both'll strangle you?"

"Have they?"

"Don't pretend." Sevika sets down her emptied mug. The knuckles of her good hand are pale on the handle. "If we'd kept it straight business, maybe we would've moved on. You with Pearl. Me with whoever this city threw my way. Instead it's always been this weird limbo. The life we're living, and life we could've been living. Except—it's not living at all. More like the coffin's nailed shut six ways from Sunday. But the grave's still yawning open. Open to chance. But ...never closure."

Hope's not a commodity Silco trades in. But right now it's rushing in like a high tide over sandbags.

"Then—" he swallows, "—is it closure you're after? Or an escape clause?"

Sevika shakes her head. Her sigh is edgy.

"Escape," she says, "isn't freedom. Freedom's a choice."

Silco nods, but says nothing. The silence, seconds ticking by, is an unspoken invitation:

Step through, and show me what you'd choose.

"It's why we work," Sevika goes on. "We didn't choose each other. We chose Zaun. That was the big picture, and we were both in it, and the rest didn't matter. For the longest time, that was all I needed. It was enough. But then... then you were gone. Zaun fell apart, and everything else fell to me, and fell fast. And as it fell, I started thinking: what if things had been different? What if we hadn't been so afraid? Of failure; of fallout? Of... each other? What if I'd stopped staring at the big picture, and taken the risk on getting caught in close-up?"

She meets his stare dead-on. Silco forces himself to weather the spotlight of her scrutiny. He feels, inordinately, like he's facing a firing squad, and his shirt's half-buttoned.

"The days dragged on, and there was no news of you. But even so—even though we'd been finished longtime—I kept wondering. Kept wishing. Just like the night we'd lost on the Bridge. Me, searching and not finding. Me, left waiting and not knowing where to stand." The deep-seated hurt in her eyes—a flicker, then a flame—makes Silco want to gut himself. "There were other offers. Same as last time. Other options. I could've taken 'em and escaped that fucking loop. But instead—fuck. I kept on waiting. I waited, and I waited, and I got sick of the waiting. And it hit me: I wasn't waiting at all. I was stuck. Because I couldn't bear to start again, after losing so damn much. Because moving on meant stepping into the dark, and having nothing underfoot if I fell."

Silco starts to say something. He doesn't.

This is about honesty—not eloquence.

"You know what makes Zaun stand apart?" Sevika says. "We're all about change. About action, not inertia. Me? I wasn't acting. I was going through the motions. Surviving. And in my survival, staying in stasis. Meanwhile the gangs kept warring. The chem-barons kept demanding. The politics kept getting bloodier. My world was coming apart at the seams, and there I was, clinging to scraps like my sanity was worth less than a potshot to the skull." A hard smile surfaces: tough as nails, and molten bright. "It'd be easy to blame you. Say it all led back to you abandoning us. Except we both know the score. You taught it to me, over and over. Cost and reward. Win or lose. Surrender—or fight like hell to keep going."

"You did," Silco says. "This city owes itself to your fortitude. Not mine."

"I tried," Sevika counters, blunt. "I held the center, until I couldn't. But that's the point. Holding the center isn't going anywhere. It's stalling in place." The smile fades, but the fire lingers. "I don't know what threw us together. Chemistry, or karma, or fate playing games. But I do know this. I'm done holding the center. I'm ready to move on. But I can't—won't—unless I know you're moving too. Unless I know you coming back is a choice. Not a dead man marking time."

The ultimatum is brutal. But he reads between the lines. She'd kept it together, and kept herself intact. Survived, not as his second-in-command or factional proxy but as a person.

Just Sevika, fighting for life in a universe of atoms. Just as he had done in the Deadlands.

Tonight, closure's not un the cards. But choice is.

And upon that choice, the groundwork for the next stage of revolution.

"Sevika," Silco begins. "I never considered—"

"I'll bet."

"I meant—I never understood, either. That holding the center meant staying in place."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Why?"

"Because you're always ten steps ahead of everybody." Her eyes flash a semaphore of secret admiration. "Every option weighed; every factor calculated. No errors. No exceptions."

Her faith nearly fells him. He's never been more unworthy of it. Never more terrified of knowing he's unworthy.

"I'm not," he says, "as clever as you think I am."

Her snort snags between his third and fourth rib. "Bullshit."

"It's true. I'm—"

Gods, what does he tell her?

That for all his sturm and drang—laying waste to a city and resurrecting it into splendor—he's a fucking coward at heart? Too gutless to let himself bleed; too feckless to let himself hurt. That for ten years, he's held onto himself by the skin of his teeth, and kept a city in his crosshairs—only to be undone by a little girl's tears? Unmade by fatherhood and the promise a legacy more lasting than the wreckage in his wake?

That he's still unmaking himself, putting the pieces in patterns yet unseen?

And still, there's no promise the pattern will cohere into a whole. Into a man who is halfway worthy of a woman willing to be his spine, his shield, his tether. A woman who has been through her own hell, and yet embodies every quality forged from that hellfire: tenacity, toughness, truth. A woman who manages ninety percent of her life effortlessly and the other ten percent ruthlessly; who fights harder for Zaun than anyone but him; who demands respect without begging for approval; whose tolerance for bullshit ends at the doorstep.

Who grants him access to her body, but whose boundaries are uncompromising. Who compromises daily, for his city's sake, and his own, and still sticks around when she has no cause to care.

Silco starts to speak. Stops. His throat's seized up. Ten fingerprints; Vander's phantom chokehold.

And beyond that chokehold: choice.

Silence crawls between them: tense, terrible, tetherless.

At last, Sevika gusts a sigh.

"Forget it." Her chair scrapes across the tiles. "I shouldn't have brought it up." She rises with military precision: all the momentum, with none of the grace. "Let's call it a night. I need some shut-eye, and you need to be at HQ. I'll radio the crew—"

The mind-body connection reinstates with a wallop.

Before she can withdraw, he's cut off her egress. For some reason he cannot fathom, he finds himself kneeling, though what he has a right to profess at her feet is beyond him.

Daddy, he thinks, proposed to Mother like this.

The recollection's absurdly random, and strangely relevant.

Stunned, Sevika backs into the chair, her elbow banging off the wood. "...What're you—?"

"I choose."

The dark lashes flutter. The tough exterior conceals a flashpoint of panic:

He's lost it.

He's gone mad.

Gone for good, oh gods—

"I choose," he repeats, compelling her stare with his. "I'd choose all the choices that brought us here. Because that's what it was: choice. Not karma, or fate, or sheer dumb luck. I'd still choose to crawl out of that river, and stick a knife in Vander's back. I'd still choose to ally with you, because there was nobody else worth allying with. I'd still choose Jinx, and all the wins and losses that followed. I'd choose freedom; I'd choose Zaun. I'd choose to march the streets with my army—every misfit soldier, every broken soul. And you by my side, leading the charge. As you've led everytime I couldn't. As you've led me through the hardest parts of our journey—whenever I failed to light my own way."

The fear shifts to something else: half-formed, fiercer in its vulnerability.

"You—you don't mean that," she stammers. "You never would have chosen this. Not me, not us—"

Silco takes her good hand in both of his.

Sevika tenses, but doesn't tug away. Plainly her first impulse; to save them both from something irreversible. He recognizes that fear; it's his own.

In another life, he'd never give credence to its silhouette. He'd take her hand, twine her fingers through his, hold on tight—all without a single red lie. He'd have cupped her head, smoothed her hair, then dragging her close, so their foreheads met in a familiar circle of warmth.

That'd been the go-to, once. When touch was easy, and trust a matter of course.

Replicating the gesture now seems a forgery. Worse, a travesty of what once was.

Except what once was is no more. Neither are they. Whoever he is—he must learn it all from scratch.

Starting now.

He stays his knees; he keeps her hand in his.

"I don't care," he says. "I don't care if the odds don't stack up. Or what probability matrix I'm fucking over. All I know is: I choose. Us—whatever us means. Whatever it doesn't. Whether it's you jettisoning everything we've built, or me burning it to ground zero—I'd still choose where it's led us. I'd choose whatever path lies ahead. Even if it takes us out of Zaun's orbit altogether—or down to the last circle of hell. No matter where we fall on that spectrum: I choose, Sevika." He breathes, steadies. "I choose whatever's left."

The silence spins like a roulette wheel: a freefall between extremes.

Her hand's a tether. He holds it tight between his fists, until the subdermal tremor stills.

"Silco..."

"Yes?"

Her eyes are burningly dark. "I'm what's left."

"You are." He skims a thumb over her lifeline, where blue veins branch across her wrist. Life coursing beneath: vital, raw, real. "And you're what I choose. Fuck the rest."

Her breath jitters on a rare laugh. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Funny."

"How so?"

"'Cause that's exactly how I feel."

He lifts her palm to his lips. Feels the pulse quickening at the base, overflowing with all he's lacked; with all he needs.

Warmth, want, wholeness.

Unexpectedly, her fingers flex; she twines them through his. The cybernetic hand reaches out to seize his jaw. Gently, then not. She drags him in even as he flows into her embrace. The kiss is like whiskey left mellowing over the hearth-flames: fiery, smooth, familiar. Cardamom lingers in the gaps; the rest's doused in the residue of adrenaline.

Then desire simmers back into the brew: a low smolder, but with the capacity to roar should they pour a stiff shot into the equation. Her arms span his shoulders; his teeth catch her lower-lip. The kiss drags them down deep.

Love's like revolution. An entire paradigm rewritten from the ground up.

In the aftermath, there's always blood.

When they break apart, it's only to breathe. Their skins are pinked with inner-heat; pupils dilated. Sevika's grip is unyielding; her thighs have gone from a rigid V to a needy cinch. His body, fitted between, has traded languor for livewire greed. Memories of earlier burn viscerally bright. Himself inside her, a cock thrust deep; a body on fire against another starved of heat.

He lays a kiss, openmouthed, at her breastbone. Her throat vibrates against his ear: purr, chuckle, moan.

"You should get going," she breathes, "before this gets ugly."

He laps the words from her throat. "That's the idea."

"Tomorrow's schedule... is a shitshow."

"All the better to end on a high note."

"Silco..."

It's a quaver of syllables. Halfway to futility—all the way to surrender.

By nature, Silco presses his advantage: cool palms coasting beneath the hem of her nightshirt, blunt fingernails ghosting goosefleshed flanks. Her breasts fill his palms like decadent teardrops: nipples pebbling into silky little hellos as he rolls each with delicate intent, then roughly pinches. Her startled groan fills his mouth.

Gods above and below—the way she arches; the way she rocks. Her own kisses have gone from scalding to incandescent. He knows they're no longer going to make it to her bed—at least, not immediately. He'll have her here, first: in the kitchen, on his knees. With his tongue, then his fingers, then his cock in her cunt.

Nothing romantic to it, but what he wants is far more real.

"Sweet Janna," Sevika gasps, as he rucks up her nightshirt and fastens on her bare tit like candy, "do you ever ease up?"

Silco hums the negation between her breasts. "...You?"

"Gods, no—" She cups his skull, drags him closer, "but tomorrow—"

"Fuck tomorrow." The crudeness earns him a grin. Her fingers tighten on his crown; her knee hikes higher around his torso. "Tonight's Jubilee. Not your father's bloody funeral. Save the damp squib for when it counts."

Her spiky smirk was spreading. But somewhere, he's hit the wrong note. The spark douses into stillness. Her arms loosen; the Valkyrie wilts.

In her absence, there's only the shape of a wary woman: heavy-boned and hard-lined; scars all across the skin.

Breaking their embrace, she tugs her top down. Self-conscious; unlike herself.

"C'mon," she mutters. "Don't play roulette with the cards you're dealt."

"I thought that was our calling." Bemused, he searches her face. "Unless there someone else you're hedging your bets on?"

"No." An old exhaustion creeps into her eyes. One that prefigures Zaun in its entirety. "Just... no."

"No?"

"I need to be counting sheep tonight. Not stars."

Rising, she gathers the empty mugs, ferrying them to the sink. The shift is sudden and inexplicable. His XO is carved from bedrock, with all its obdurate depths. Moodiness is a character flaw she rarely indulges.

A premonition prickles along Silco's nape. The monster stirring awake. He's never handled disappointment well. Rejection, worse. It makes his knucklebones lock around a blade's hidden heft; ready to dish out whatever collateral damage is necessary until his goal is within reach.

Mine, the monster hisses. Mine.

Ours, he counters, and wills himself to stillness.

"What's wrong?" he says, as mildly as possible. "A minute ago, you were ready."

"I was." She rinses the mugs. Her movements aren't tense, only sharply efficient. "But... tonight's not ideal."

"Bad head?"

Her sidelong smile is wan, but warms her eyes. "Nobody'd level that critique against you, sweetheart."

The Sweetheart is a token; Silco pockets it as compensation. They don't do endearments; haven't in years. Perhaps, tonight, it's one of many rules they're unwriting.

Or perhaps Sevika's setting new parameters for intimacy altogether.

Not his strong suit: abiding by limits. But, then, neither is sharing.

Yet here he stands. Near enough for her heat to soak into him; not so close as to invade her space. He's in no position to inveigle, especially after laying his cards at her feet.

The dice is hers to throw.

"If we're going too fast," he says, "say so. I'll match whatever pace you set."

Her head pivots. She looks—truly looks—as if he's an anomaly she's never encountered. Something enthrallingly new, and far too dangerous.

"You're not angry," she murmurs.

"No."

"Why not?"

His shrug isn't effortless, but it's honest. "We've had a string of long days. We deserve to take the edge off, however we like. If that means shut-eye instead of screwing, so be it. But," and here the devil seeps to the surface, "I'd be lying if I said a quickie wouldn't put a spring in my step tomorrow."

She doesn't laugh, but it's a close call. "I think I'll manage without the extra bounce."

"Are you sure?"

"You know me. Always on the ball."

"You're not. Though you do a damn good job hiding it." He reaches out, thumbing a tangle behind her ear. "You're wired. You're always wired. But this is the first time it shows."

She tenses. But the touch, lingering, softens something within. Her eyes drift half-shut. "...It's nothing."

"No?"

"Just... there's too much riding on the line."

"We're the line, remember?" The caress drifts lower, cupping her nape. She arches into his palm: a dragon seeking shelter. Yet within their closeness is sense of something sinister. A splinter of truth, caught in between. "Unless, in honor of Jubilee, you've chosen abstinence for the month."

"Hardly." There's a trace of a smile; a shadow of bitterness. "That was Nandi's cup of hemlock."

"Hyssop."

"Huh?"

"Hemlock's the killer. Hyssop's the healer." Off her stare, he tips a shoulder. "Your sister taught me the finer points of herblore. During our courtship, I was always bruised, bloody, and bone-deep in doom. She couldn't steer me tidy, so she choose to teach me how to triage a broken arm."

Sevika's scrubbing slows. "That sounds like Nandi."

"A born dogooder."

She laughs—a frayed but genuine sound—just as he suspects her mouth may be running short on indulgence.

"Nah. She had a wicked streak. Only difference is that hers came with a heart of gold. Whereas mine..." She performs a neat sidestep to hang the mugs off their hooks. "Got mine from my old man. Not a lick of shine in sight."

"I disagree."

"Your eyesight's one flaw worth enumerating."

"If I had to list yours, self-deprecation wouldn't feature among them." He catches her wrist, but lightly. "What's wrong? Because something is."

"Something." Her shrug's an imitation of his, but a poor one. "I guess... I'm just being superstitious. Thinking: if I let myself go now, I'll slip up at the next critical juncture. Or get so fucking pissed when you're back to being Zaun's reigning bastard, I won't be able to keep a lid on it? Because—" She swallows. "That's the deal between us. There's always a catch. Cost; reward."

He lets her wrist go. "You think I'm playing games."

"Everything's a goddamn game with you. Same way everything's a game with Janna her-own-damnself. And those games always end up at cross-purposes—and into clusterfucks."

Her silence doesn't quite sit right; Silco feels its surface ripple like a sine wave. There's something vulnerable inside. Something, conversely, walled-off. It recalls the gloss in her eyes when they'd been going at it before. A stormfront brewing north.

Now it occurs to Silco the storm may not entirely be his doing.

"What is this?" He's prowling a circle around her now. "And if you say 'nothing'—"

She nixes the warning with a sharp headshake. "It's not."

"What, then?"

Outside the flat, fireworks: scalding showers of garnet red and verdant green. The eerie fractals dance through the blinds.

On the last ebb of colors, Sevika swallows.

"I can't—" Her voice snags; her lips pull taut. "—trust a single thing about tonight."

"Why not?"

"Because you're you, and I'm me. Between us, there's always a flipside. Some wrench in the spokes. Some debt overdue. That's how this game works. That's how it's always worked." Her chin lifts, defiant, but the eyes hold a haunted sheen. "You drive a hard bargain, Silco. But tonight? This deal feels too good to be true. And whatever I have left... I'm not ready to lose. Not if—if you mean what you say. And not if this is the only shot I get at—at—fuck."

Abruptly, she punches the wall. The lapis tile cracks like ice beneath her cybernetic fist.

Dazed, Sevika stares at the damage, the copper knuckles flexing.

A heartbeat later, she's in tears.

Silco's at her side before he registers it. The monster—always slithering, always shapeshifting—is lured to the stress chemicals wafting in the air. The rest of him—the vestigial organ pumping the barest heat to every extremity—pulls rank over roiling appetite.

This isn't a foe to fight. Nor prey to penetrate.

This is Sevika baring a bellyful of hurt.

"Sevika." He catches her shoulders. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing." Furiously, she backhands the tears. "Look, forget it. Just—forget it. It's been a long fucking day. I'm tired. Tomorrow, everything will be fine. You'll be the terror of the deep, and I'll be the stone-cold bitch. Same old, same old. We'll move on; move forward. Like we always do."

"We will." His grip tightens, anchoring her in place. "But not tonight. Tonight, I want the truth."

"Nothing worth sharing."

"Let me be the judge of that."

Abruptly, she wrenches loose.

"Since when do we swap sob stories?" she erupts. "Since when does the Eye of Zaun care what's going on between my ears, and not what deal's brewing in the the backrooms? Since when do you care about anything beyond the big picture, and not what's right in front of you? And why now, Silco? Why tonight, of all nights? When I'm at the end of my fucking rope, and it's just a matter of time before I slip up and strangle myself?"

"Because," Silco snaps, "I do care."

"You don't." She's breathing hard, as if she's sprinted miles to get here. "You're not Sil. You haven't been Sil in over ten fucking years. I was fine with that. Fuck, I was better than fine. I was grateful. 'Cause Sil was mine, and he'd stay mine, even if the rest fell, and our bones rotted. None of this—the dirty deals, the politics, the backstabbing—would touch him. He'd always be that dreamer with a big speech, and the best intentions, even if the worst came knocking. But you—" Her mouth twists. "—you're the fucking monster, remember? The goddamn anti-Sil. You're not supposed to care. You're not supposed to feel a thing. Except lately... you look at me like Sil used to. Like he's still in there, under fifty feet of icewater, and I can't take it. I can't stand you pretending to be him. You can't be. Because him, I knew. Him, I've I believed in. Him, I fought for, and for him, I'd gladly die. You—you're a changeling who stole his skin, and I hate you for it. I hate myself more for wanting you. Because it's too risky to want you. Not if it's all or nothing, and nothing's my most likely bet."

She's barely breathing by the end. The fury's spent itself. Her body's deadweight.

Silco's the one lost at sea.

"Is that what you think?" he says, low. "I'm a pretender in my own skin?"

"I think the last ten years have been a fucking nightmare. I think, whatever you are—whatever you've turned into—that you've still got a long way to go before you're a man I can trust."

"But you want to trust me." He's inching closer. "Trust us."

"I can't!" She jerks back. "I can't go back there. I can't let myself hope."

"Why not?"

"Because—" The bravado cracks. "Because what's left isn't worth losing. You're never gonna change, and neither will the game, and we're both too fucked up to make this work."

"You're wrong."

Inexorably, he advances; she retreats, until he's caged her against the counter. The monster's wide awake, instincts primed to strike. It's Silco's way; coercion as conversational art; proximity as pressure valve.

But here's neither advantage to be extracted, nor damage to impart.

Only his refusal to let her suffer alone.

"I won't," he repeats, softer, "And I'm going to prove it."

"How? By threatening your way into my pants?"

"By owning the truth. Whatever that truth is." He doesn't touch her. Only breathes the salt-scented air between them: stress, sex, tears. The sensory olio solidifies the stakes. "I'm not Sil, and I'll never be again. But he's what I became, Sevika, and he's in me. All the pieces, and none of the pretty. But whatever's left, you can have it all. So long as you'll give me the same."

She shivers. Doesn't move a muscle. Doesn't lash out.

But nor does she run.

"You're asking a lot," she says, raggedly. "What if it's not worth it?"

"Let me be the judge." He holds her eyes. "Tell me what's eating you alive. Because whatever it is—whatever's got you so scared—it won't be the end of us, Sevika. I swear."

Sevika resists; a muscle quivers in her jaw. But the tears are relentless. Each drop's a surrender, unmaking hard-won stoicism by stages.

Finally, she sags. Her voice is uncharacteristically small.

"It's my old man. He's back."

#arcane #arcane league of legends #forward but never forget/xoxo #arcane silco #silco #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane sevika #sevika #silco x sevika #sevilco

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