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pbaz7 · 4 months ago

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It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 6

AN: Alright here’s the next chapter. I think I’ll be able to post everyday if not every other day for a while. Please drop live reactions and let me know what you think so I can keep the momentum going.

TW: Suggestive language, explicit

Word Count: 3.5k

After the events of that unfortunate night two weeks ago Azzi had spent much of her time with Paige making the blonde feel better, constantly reminding her how generous and amazing she is.

Now, Azzi was stretched out across Paige’s lap, her head nestled comfortably as Paige’s fingers absentmindedly combed through her damp hair. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the TV in the background and the muffled laughter of their teammates down the hall. The post-game rush was still fresh in their veins after one of the toughest matches of the season, and they were both basking in the warm afterglow of victory.

Paige glanced down, catching Azzi’s relaxed expression, her lashes fluttering slightly as she stared at nothing in particular. For a moment, Paige allowed herself to soak in the sight, a small smile tugging at her lips. Azzi, noticing the change in Paige’s rhythm, tilted her head slightly, catching Paige’s gaze with a soft, almost lazy smile.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Azzi’s smile widened, a playful glint lighting up her eyes. “Nothing,” she said in a tone that was anything but innocent.

Paige scoffed, her fingers pausing in Azzi’s hair. “You’ve got that look again.”

Azzi blinked up at her, feigning confusion. “What look?”

“The one that says you’re about to do something, or say something, that’ll make me regret letting you lie here,” Paige teased, though the fondness in her voice betrayed her.

Azzi chuckled, shifting slightly on Paige’s lap. “Me? I’m just enjoying the view.”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the blush creeping up her neck. “You’re so full of it.”

Azzi grinned and stretched her arms lazily above her head, her shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned skin and her piercing. Paige’s eyes darted briefly to the exposed skin before quickly looking away, her cheeks burning. Azzi noticed, of course, and her grin turned positively wicked.

“Caught you staring,” Azzi teased, her voice a low murmur.

“I wasn’t staring,” Paige shot back, her tone defensive but lacking any real bite.

Azzi hummed thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving Paige’s face. “You know, I think you like having me here,” she said, her voice soft and teasing.

Paige’s heart skipped a beat, but she refused to let Azzi see how easily she was getting under her skin. “And I think you like pushing your luck.”

Azzi’s laughter was light and melodic. She propped herself up on her elbows, her face now level with Paige’s, their noses almost brushing. “Only with you,” she said, her tone suddenly softer, more serious.

Paige felt her breath catch. There was a weight to Azzi’s words, a sincerity that made her heart race. The air between them grew thicker, the playful banter giving way to something deeper.

“You’re impossible,” Paige murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“And yet,” Azzi said, her gaze flickering to Paige’s lips before meeting her eyes again, “you haven’t kicked me off your lap.”

The two of them exchange a much too familiar banter.

Paige opened her mouth to respond, but Azzi leaned in, cutting her off with a lingering kiss to her cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. Paige froze, her breath hitching as Azzi’s lips lingered just a second too long, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

Azzi pulled back slowly, her eyes dark and filled with mischief. “You know,” she said, her voice dropping to a sultry tone, “there’s nothing stopping me now.”

Paige’s pulse quickened. “Stopping you from what?” she asked, her voice coming out more breathless than she intended.

Azzi’s lips curved into a secretive smile. “You’ll see,” she said cryptically, her tone filled with promise.

Before Paige could press her further, Azzi shifted off her lap, standing gracefully. “I should go get ready,” she said casually, smoothing out her shirt.

Paige blinked, still trying to process what had just happened. “Since when do we get ready separately?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

Azzi turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips. “Since now,” she replied, her tone light but her eyes smoldering. She shot Paige a wink before sauntering toward the door, her hips swaying just enough to draw Paige’s gaze.

Paige watched her, unable to tear her eyes away. Just as Azzi reached the door, she turned back, her smirk deepening. “Don’t take too long, though. Can’t miss celebrating that big win.”

With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving Paige alone with her racing thoughts and a heart pounding in her chest.

Paige let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. Azzi was a force of nature, and Paige was caught right in the eye of the storm.

…

The energy inside Ted’s was almost overwhelming. A thick wall of heat and sound wrapped around Paige as she stepped in with Aubrey, KK, and Ice, the pulse of the music thrumming through her chest. The room was packed, filled to capacity with students still riding the high of the team’s massive win earlier in the evening. Everyone was here for one reason—to celebrate. But Paige had only one thing on her mind.

Her eyes immediately started their search. It didn’t take long to find her. Across the room, Azzi stood near the bar, leaning against the counter with an easy confidence that drew the attention of more than a few onlookers. She was laughing at something one of their teammates said, her curls framing her face, her eyes shining in the dim light. She looked effortlessly stunning.

Paige froze for a second, breath hitching. Azzi had outdone herself tonight. A sleek, tight black crop top clung to her, highlighting every dip and curve of her toned body. The fabric stopped just short of her bellybutton, revealing her abs and that damn belly button piercing that Paige couldn’t tear her eyes away from. Her shorts barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, showing off long legs that seemed to go on forever. Paige swallowed hard, willing herself to breathe. The sight alone was enough to make her head spin.

Ice noticing Paige’s reaction chuckles, “she knows exactly what she’s doing,” she muttered under her breath as she elbowed Paige lightly.

“Shut up,” Paige said, trying—and failing—to tear her eyes away from Azzi.

Azzi’s gaze lifted at that moment, as if drawn by some unseen force. When her eyes locked on Paige, her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, one that sent a jolt straight through Paige’s chest. It wasn’t a casual smile; it was deliberate, teasing, and confident. It said I see you, and I know exactly what you’re thinking, yes this is for you. Paige’s mouth went dry.

They made their way over to the rest of the team, but Paige hardly registered the conversations happening around her. Her focus was singular. Azzi hadn’t looked away once, her gaze smoldering and unrelenting. Paige felt the weight of it with every step, her pulse quickening in anticipation.

The celebration kicked into high gear as the night progressed. Drinks flowed freely, laughter echoed, and the music’s tempo ramped up, pulling nearly everyone to the dance floor. Paige and Azzi moved in and out of the crowd, their paths crossing more frequently with each passing minute. Every time Azzi brushed past Paige, she’d let her fingers graze her arm or trail along her lower back, each touch more lingering than the last. It wasn’t long before Paige found herself gravitating toward Azzi with an intensity she could no longer ignore.

“Enjoying yourself?” Azzi’s voice was low and smooth as she leaned in, her breath warm against Paige’s ear.

Paige tilted her head slightly, her lips dangerously close to Azzi’s. “I was… until you decided to make it impossible to think straight.”

Azzi chuckled, a soft, sultry sound that sent shivers down Paige’s spine. “Good,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to let her eyes roam over Paige’s face, lingering on her lips.

Paige bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to close the gap between them. Instead, she grabbed Azzi’s hand and tugged her toward the dance floor, wordlessly daring her to keep up. Azzi followed willingly, a playful gleam in her eye.

The music shifted and the crowd pressed closer. Paige turned to face Azzi, their bodies just inches apart. Azzi’s hands found Paige’s hips, drawing her in as they began to move together, their rhythms perfectly in sync. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension, every brush of their skin igniting a spark that threatened to burn out of control.

Paige’s hands slid up Azzi’s sides, her fingers grazing the exposed skin beneath her top. Azzi’s breath hitched, her eyes darkening as she leaned in, their foreheads nearly touching. The pounding bass of the music seemed to sync with the rhythm of their hearts, drowning out everything else

“You really know how to drive me crazy,” Paige said, her voice barely audible above the music, but every word was charged with desire.

Azzi smirked, her grip on Paige’s hips tightening as she pulled them flush together.. “You’re not exactly making it easy for me either,” she murmured, her voice teasing but laced with something deeper.

They swayed together, their movements growing more synchronized, more intimate. Paige let her thigh slide between Azzi’s legs, a boldness overtaking her as she felt Azzi’s breath hitch again. The closeness was electric, their bodies speaking in a silent, unrelenting rhythm. Paige’s hands slipped down to Azzi’s lower back, pulling her closer still, her touch lingering as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

Azzi’s lips brushed Paige’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She whispered, her tone playful yet seductive. “Were you planning to keep this side of you hidden forever?”

Paige chuckled, her face flushing despite the dim light. “Hm, only from you,” she teased, her voice husky. “But I guess that ship has sailed.”

Azzi’s laughter was low and warm, vibrating against Paige’s skin. She let her hands trail slowly up Paige’s arms, settling them around her neck as she leaned in again. “Guess you’ll have to make up for lost time, then.”

Their foreheads touched again, their breath mingling. Paige tilted her head, her lips a whisper away from Azzi’s, but she hesitated, savoring the tension between them. The room seemed to shrink around them, the crowd fading into a blur of lights and sound as they moved together.

The music shifted to a slower, sultrier beat, and Azzi took the lead, her hips rolling in time with the rhythm. Paige followed instinctively, matching her movements, their connection deepening with every pulse of the music. Paige’s fingers traced light, teasing patterns against Azzi’s back, earning a soft gasp from the younger girl.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” Azzi murmured, her voice low with desire. “I like it.”

Paige leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of Azzi’s ear. “Only for you,” she whispered, her words dripping with intent.

Azzi pulled back just enough to lock eyes with Paige, her gaze soft but fiercely determined. “Tell me,” she said, her voice a velvet hum that sent a rush of heat through Paige. “What’s stopping us right now?”

Paige’s heart pounded, her resolve hanging by a thread. The world outside their bubble felt distant and insignificant. Nothing was stopping them. The thought sent a wave of longing through her, and she felt herself leaning further into Azzi, her walls crumbling.

Azzi’s thumb brushed against Paige’s jaw, a gentle yet deliberate touch. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, every word heavy with promise.

Paige didn’t need to be asked twice. She nodded, her breath catching as Azzi took her hand and began leading her through the sea of bodies, their heights allowing them to weave effortlessly toward the exit. Paige followed, her pulse quickening with every step. The noise and chaos of the bar faded into the background, her entire world narrowing to the girl holding her hand.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, the contrast was almost jarring. The street was quieter, the hum of distant laughter and conversation drifting lazily through the night. But Paige barely noticed. Her focus was entirely on Azzi, on the way her curls framed her face in the dim light, on the way her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath.

Azzi turned to face her, the intensity in her gaze sending a fresh wave of heat through Paige. For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there, the weight of the past few weeks crashing down on them, the tension that had built between them threatening to overflow.

Without a word, Azzi stepped closer, her hands finding their way to Paige’s waist once more. Slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing against the corner of Paige’s mouth in a teasing, lingering kiss. It was a promise, a taste of what was to come, and it left Paige wanting more.

“Let’s go,” Azzi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige didn’t hesitate, letting Azzi lead her down the street, their steps quick and purposeful. The world around them faded into a blur as they walked, their destination unspoken but understood. They had waited long enough. Tonight, there would be no more holding back.

…

As Paige and Azzi step into Azzi's suite, the atmosphere shifts instantly. The tension between them is palpable, an electric undercurrent charging the air. They both know that, for the first time, there are no barriers—no distractions, no Jess, and no need for restraint. It's just the two of them, fully aware of what they want and finally free to act on it.

Azzi’s eyes gleam with anticipation as she locks the door behind them, leaning back against it for a moment to admire Paige. Paige, whose cheeks are flushed, gives a lopsided grin, the corner of her lips quirking up in a way that makes Azzi’s pulse quicken.

“Finally,” Azzi murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

“Finally,” Paige echoes, her voice soft but heavy with intent.

They’re hardly able to keep their hands to themselves as they make their way through the suite to Azzi’s room. Azzi’s hand brushes against Paige’s lower back, and Paige glances over her shoulder, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Careful, Azzi,” Paige says, her voice a playful warning. “I might start thinking you have ulterior motives.”

Azzi smirks, stepping closer, her breath warm against Paige’s ear. “Ulterior motives? Me? Never.”

Paige chuckles, but the sound is cut short when Azzi adds, her voice dropping an octave, “Unless you want me to.”

The words send a shiver down Paige’s spine, and she spins around, walking backward now, her gaze never leaving Azzi’s. “You’re full of it, Azzi.”

“And you love it,” Azzi shoots back, her tone confident.

Paige arches a brow, her smirk widening. “Maybe I do.”

Their banter continues as they reach Azzi’s bedroom, their words laced with growing sexual tension. Paige playfully tugs on the hem of Azzi’s crop top, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s stomach, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the younger girl.

“You’re quiet now,” Paige teases. “Cat got your tongue?”

Azzi leans in, her lips hovering just a breath away from Paige’s. “Not yet,” she whispers. “But you could.”

Once inside the bedroom, they slow down, the weight of the moment settling over them. Paige takes a step back, her playful demeanor softening. She looks at Azzi, really looks at her, taking in the way her dark hair frames her face, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, and the way her brown eyes seem to pierce through every layer of Paige’s guarded heart.

“Azzi,” Paige says, her voice quieter now. “Are you ok? Is this really what you want?”

Azzi doesn’t hesitate. She steps forward, her hands finding Paige’s. “It’s all I’ve wanted for months,” she says, her voice filled with conviction. “You’re all I’ve wanted.”

The sincerity in Azzi’s words makes Paige’s heart skip a beat. She nods slowly, a soft smile spreading across her lips. Then, without another word, she closes the distance between them, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a kiss that’s been months in the making.

The moment their lips meet, it’s as if a current of electricity shoots through them. The kiss starts slow, tender, both of them savoring the feeling, the taste, the sheer rightness of it. But the months of pent-up tension quickly take over, and the kiss deepens, growing more passionate with every passing second.

Azzi’s hands move up to cup Paige’s face, her fingers tangling in her hair, while Paige’s arms wrap around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer. They stumble slightly, laughing against each other’s lips, but neither pulls away.

“God, you’re amazing,” Paige mutters against Azzi’s mouth before capturing her lips again.

Azzi lets out a soft whimper, and the sound drives Paige wild. She tilts Azzi’s head back, her lips trailing down to her jaw, then her neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses and marks in her wake.

They stumble toward the bed, their hands exploring, their kisses growing hungrier. Azzi tugs at Paige’s shirt, pulling it over her head in one swift motion. Paige laughs, a throaty, breathless sound, as she lets the shirt fall to the floor.

“You’re in a hurry,” Paige teases, her voice husky.

Azzi grins, her eyes dark with desire. “Can you blame me?”

Paige shakes her head, leaning in to capture Azzi’s lips again. This time, her tongue slides into Azzi’s mouth, drawing a soft sigh from the younger girl. Azzi melts into the kiss, her body pressing against Paige’s as they continue to explore each other.

Paige’s hand finds its way to Azzi’s neck, her fingers wrapping lightly around it, much like the last time. The effect is immediate. Azzi’s eyes flutter shut, a shiver running through her as she leans into Paige’s touch.

“You like that?” Paige whispers, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear.

Azzi nods, her breath hitching. “You know I do.”

Paige smirks, applying a bit more pressure, testing the waters to see just exactly what Azzi likes. “I’ve always wanted to see you lose control.”

Azzi’s eyes snap open, a challenge sparking in them. “Then make me lose control,” she says, her voice daring.

Paige’s smirk deepens, and she leans in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she whispers, “Don’t tempt me.”

Azzi lets out a breathless laugh, her hands trailing down Paige’s back before playing with the waistband of her sweats. “Who said I wasn’t?”

The two of them continue their heated exchange, their words becoming more daring, their touches more intimate. Paige’s lips trail down Azzi’s neck, her hands exploring every inch of her skin, drawing soft gasps and moans from the younger girl.

Azzi, not one to be outdone, pushes Paige back, climbing on top of her with a teasing grin. “I’m not the only one losing control here,” she says, her voice low.

“Taking charge, huh?” Paige teases.

“Someone’s got to,” Azzi quips, leaning down to press a kiss to Paige’s neck. “Besides, I think you like it.”

Paige’s breath hitches as Azzi’s lips trail lower, sucking on spots that’ll be sure to leave marks on the pale girl's skin. Her hands exploring every part of Paige that she’s always imagined. Paige reaches up, her fingers tangling in Azzi’s hair. “Keep going,” she whispers.

Azzi leans down, her lips brushing against Paige’s once more. “Good,” she whispers. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

After the way that made her feel Paige flips them over again not liking that she was losing in the slight battle of power. In this haste Azzi manages to snatch her own shirt off and Paige can’t help but stop to admire the girl under her. “Everything about you is perfect,” Paige whispers, causing Azzi’s heart to skip a beat.

Before Azzi can respond, Paige is kissing her tenderly again, trying to show the younger girl just how much this means to her. After some time Azzi finds herself searching for Paige’s hand to guide her exactly where she wants her.

As Paige’s hand reaches the button on Azzi’s shorts she makes sure to look up at Azzi, blue eyes filled with admiration, desire, and something softer underneath it all. “Is this ok,” she whispers.

Azzi eyes locked with Paige’s takes a heavy breath, the gentleness of Paige in this moment causing her entire body to react in ways she didn’t know possible, nods her head slowly,

With this Paige unbuttons Azzi’s shorts before slipping her hand in, the curly haired girl underneath her lifting her back off the bed in desire as she’s able to finally let her control slip away, just how Paige had wished for.

#pazzi #paige x azzi

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junicult · 2 years ago

Note

first, i am in absolute love with all ur posts and works—second, could you do headcannons of the bachelors when they get jealous?? could be smutty or sweet literally anything u give is amazing

!! how the bachelors act when they’re jealous

contains ; sfw! established relationships! farmer is noted to be outgoing / social. mostly fluff, but not intended to be fluff. majority of these take place in the city.

note ; i do love man that can get a little jealous. anon i love u ur gassing me up🤭

harvey.

- overthinker ™️

- he’s his own devil on his shoulder.

- no matter what, he’s secure in his relationship. he knows you love him, and he knows you’d never even think about cheating on him.

- he literally remembers every single compliment you give him. he’ll just randomly think of when you told him his mustache looked especially neat one day like months ago, and smile.

- but there’s always that little shadow of doubt that appears every now and then.

- it more commonly happens after you’ve had an argument of some sort.

- he’s not insecure in your very committed relationship by any means, i’m not saying that any little argument he’ll just believe you don’t love him anymore & want to be with someone else.

- i’m just saying there’s always that thought that crosses his mind, and manifests quicker then he can push it away.

- i feel like one of his worst habits is that he needs to be reassured quite often.

- doesn’t have to be major, just an “i love you” will suffice.

- so if you don’t clear the air right away, he accidentally gives himself time to 🥁🥁🥁overthink!

- “i need to finish working, we’ll talk about this later.”and you close the door before you have time to resolve it—it leaves those few hours to be a living hell for him.

- the jealousy doesn’t creep in unless he actually sees it, or hears about it.

- he’s too mature for that.

- his mind doesn’t automatically go to, “she’s cheating on me!” when you talk about another guy or whatever.

- it’s more or less if he hears about him a little too much, or sees the two of you alone together.

- but knowing him he’ll never bring it up.

- he’ll bottle it inside if he feels it’s not worth it.

- or unless he’s given an opportunity 😊

- you’re laughing, wrapping up your day as usual, just talking to each other, “oh, and he made the funniest joke the other day—“

- “he is funny. i didn’t realize you two were friends,” he laughs stiffly, keeping his eyes on the plate of food in front of him.

- “yeah, well, he needed advice on a couple plants he has in his shack, so i helped him out a bit.” you smile innocently, because it really was innocent.

- he pauses mid chew, shooting you a glance.

- “i see…you’ve been in his house?” he clears his throat a little.

- you just blink at him for a second, before you have to purse a smile. “only a couple times. haven’t you?”

- “…yeah. i guess so.”

- u could practically see the thoughts in his mind. he really does go to the worst case scenario.

- you giggle, gently kicking his shoe under the table and leaning in to hold his hand. “aw, don’t do that. you know you’re the only one for me.”

- now he’s able to look at you, even smile. because really that’s how easy it is to clear the air for him.

- well, he might need a kiss or two.

sam.

- ignorance is bliss for this man.

- the longer you two have been together, the more and more oblivious he gets to affection from others.

- especially when u live in a town as small as this one😭😭

- if you two went out of town or something, let’s say for one of his concerts—he literally wouldn’t think the girl that’s flirting so hard with him was even flirting with him. he’d just think she was a rly big fan LMFAO

- which has been the cause of a couple arguments between you two dare i say, but he means well.

- he’s the most secure out of all of them i think.

- when you’re in town, his mind just kinda goes to ‘everyone knows we’re in love so they wouldn’t even try.’

- and he knows you wouldn’t either. it’s not even something he has worried about before.

- he really doesn’t get jealous i think. it’s so unbelievably rare it’d get to the point where he’s actually upset about it.

- he’ll doesn’t think twice when he leaves you and sebastian alone together.

- i think it’s really sweet how much he believes in the two of you.

- i feel like the only reason he’d ever get jealous, is because he finds you’re spending more time with someone else besides him.

- not even a another guy, just a person😭

- like let’s say you’ve just been around vincent a lot, especially since he’s grown so much of a liking to you.

- so every time you come over to see sam, you end up spending time with his little brother instead.

- not even intentionally, it’s just cute to see how excited he gets to see you, and you like hearing the things he has to say,

- “and penny’s teaching us cursive! cool, right?” he grins, showing his handwriting that definitely isn’t intelligible but you still smile and congratulate him instead.

- so you just end up preoccupied with vincent more then you even realize.

- because of this, you entirely miss the way sam’s all uncharacteristically quiet beside you, just watching his little brother take up your time together.

- although he loves to see how close you are with his family, he’s still pouting.

- it isn’t until vincent has to leave for school, or something other, when he’s finally able to get your attention.

- “so you finally have time for me, i see.” he hums, pettiness dripping from his tongue, arms crossed.

- you furrow your brows, mimicking his stance. “i’m sorry?”

- sam isn’t the type to pick a fight out of nowhere. i feel like, for him to actually get angry or upset at something, it’s have to be serious.

- and this just wasn’t serious enough for him to encourage a bad mood, so he merely gives you a side-eyed glance before he unfolds his arms.

- “you know…you’ve just…been a little busy…’tis all…” he looks down at his shirt like he’s all embarrassed.

- “please, are you upset that i was spending time with your brother?”

- “…well not anymore…”

- he can get over it fast. promise you, within minutes he’s all over you, kissing and hugging you like nothing even happened.

shane.

- 😭😭

- similar to harvey in the sense that, he needs to be reassured a lot. (bold and italicized)

- tell him, kiss him, hug him, whatever it is. multiple times a day.

- he trusts you, but he doesn’t trust very many else.

- he knows the other bachelors let out a literal sigh on ur wedding day. he knows they all want u🤷‍♀️

- which, for the most part, makes him feel soooo cocky. he likes knowing the woman everyone wants fell in love with him of all people.

- during festivals, and gatherings at the saloon, he pretty much likes to stay attached at the hip.

- wraps his arm around you, resting at your waist while you’re both having two separate conversations (more like you’re talking and he’s just beside you).

- he gets a little clingy around the guys that he knows are into you.

- he’s gotta show them what they don’t have🤷‍♀️

- it’s kinda funny cus he’s not being subtle at all, and instead of outright bringing it up in front of other people, you’ll give him a slow glance, and he’s just smirking.

- that’s only because you’ve totally brought it up before in private.

- “you know we’re married, right?” you snort, going to tug on the pendant around his neck.

- “hey, that doesn’t stop some guys.”

- “well it stops me. i fell in love with you, not them.”

- he grins when he hears that. “s’true. but you’ve gotta see the way they look at you—“

- “and let them look. doesn’t mean they’ll get anything out of it.”

- he has to admit, he does kinda like knowing they can look but can’t touch—and he gets to do both.

- when he gets jealous, it’s all because someone is spending a little too much time talking to you.

- he’s a tad fragile.

- when he sees one of the guys talking with you, he’ll glance over a couple times, making sure the body language stays casual n stuff.

- last thing he’d want (for you) is to cause a scene.

- but if he were to look over, and you were still talking with the same guy for a while, that’s when he’d start to frown.

- what makes alex so interesting? what’s he got to talk about that’s better then shane?

- he is soooo fucking petty. to the guy that was hitting on you, and you.

- “miss your boyfriend?” after you’ve left and are you’re walking home.

- your expression turns to disgust. “what?”

- “oh i dunno…just, you and alex seemed to have a lot to talk about.”

- “don’t start.”

- “you’re being awfully dismissive—“

- those are the fights you have.

- immature😭😭

- if the argument gets heated, you’ll both probably limit each other to the silent treatment 💀💀

- no matter how stubborn he is, though, he hates not being able to joke with you more.

- eventually he’ll find it unbearable, and he’ll come up to you with a look only he gives you.

- eyes soft, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and resting his chin. “i’m sorry baby, i know i can get pretty jealous. i’ll work on it, okay?”

- he knows you’ve forgiven him when you turn to look him in the eyes, smiling at his affections. “good. you don’t have any reason to be, i promise.”

- and he’s suddenly the luckiest man in the world when you cup your hand around his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss he’ll never fail to melt into.

sebastian.

- he gets jealous. lol.

- it’s definitely his worst trait, because yes he trusts you, but he still might think you’re doing the wrong.

- you’re way more social then him, that’s a fact.

- you talk to people every day that he hasn’t even spoken with in months. he’s always just a little on edge.

- that cloud of doubt always tells him you can do better, he doesn’t deserve you. but you’re good at reassuring him, so it makes it easier.

- not to say his jealousy doesn’t get a little annoying.

- at the start of your relationship, it probably made u roll ur eyes a little lmfao

- ur casually talking to sam, literally just listening to whatever he’s rambling about, and sebastian’s nearby with a frown on his face.

- “what were you guys talking about? should i be worried?” he crosses his arms when you walk towards him.

- as if sam would even think to do that to his best friend.

- honestly, the best way to get him to realize it would be to lay it on thick.

- “stop it, your overthinking is exhausting the both of us. you need to get better with that, or this won’t work out.”

- he might be a little upset at your bluntness, but pretty soon he’ll come around. you have a point, and he realizes that.

- so afterwards he’ll tone it down.

- he still has moments where he gets a little tense if you’re giving guys gifts, or talking to them for a while during festivals and things—but he knows it’s just your personality.

- you’re not even flirting, and if they would, you knew to shut it down.

- once he got better at controlling it, you guys thrived. cus really, that’s the only thing you guys would argue about.

- i don’t think he likes pda.

- like, at all.

- but you guys have a little routine when you’re in public to reassure him.

- if he’s standing next to you, not mingling because his social battery is out, & he doesn’t want to interrupt the conversation you’re having,

- it’s with a guy, but he’s been with you long enough to not get upset over the little things,

- you’ll just reach out, and give his hand a little squeeze to reassure him you’re still with him (if that makes sense.)

- like, yes you’re focused on the conversation you’re having, but you’re still thinking about him in the back of your mind, so you want to silently show that everything’s fine.

- after years of dating, and when ur married, his thoughts of jealousy pretty much go away.

- despite you being the only person he spends time with on a daily basis, he trusts you at this point. he should’ve from the very beginning, and he definitely feels guilty about it every once in a while.

- but now he understands you don’t give him any reason to feel jealous.

- just talking to someone doesn’t mean you’re intending to cheat on ur partner.

- he’s a bit stubborn, although i think it’s sweet to think he’s given you a heartfelt apology about it.

- “i’m sorry for not trusting you. i know you love me, and i love you too.” with a little kiss on the cheek.

alex.

- he doesn’t really get jealous.

-…if anything, i feel like it’d be the other way around.

- his ego is skyrocketed😭😭 he thinks very highly of himself, and yes that’s a good thing, but omfg can it be so annoying.

- don’t get me wrong, he thinks very highly of you as well. sometimes he thinks you’re too good for him, honestly.

- but when you’re both out together, he kinda loves when he looks over to see some guy trying to talk you up.

- he’s not insecure in the slightest. he’d be devastated if you did cheat, but with his ego he just kinda thinks it’d be your loss LMFAO.

- what makes it even better is when you have a little scowl on your face, leaning away and dismissing the stranger to go find him.

- don’t get me wrong tho, he’ll always step in if he sees someone overstepping boundaries.

- anyways, when it comes to whenever you guys are together in town, he’s touchy.

- he does not fear pda😭😭

- he’ll be all up on you if you’d let him. he loves letting everyone know you’re in a relationship.

- so he’s not even given any opportunity to get jealous.

- i’m serious. if you guys go out somewhere together, for example a gridball game he invited you to, he’s not leaving your side in general.

- but while you’re still trying to find your seats, you end up sitting next to a guy that’s clearly checking you out.

- “is this seat taken?” you ask, purely out of politeness before sitting down, and it’s obvious that this stranger is excited you’re sitting next to him.

- and if alex sees the small smirk on his face, he’s instantly swinging his arm around you, speaking loud enough to turn a couple heads, “these are great seats babe! we can see everything!” and pressing a kiss to your temple.

- throughout the rest of the game, the stranger keeps finding chances to say a few things to you, all of which has alex involving himself in your conversations.

- trust me, he’s making a grand show of how you’re not single.

- leaving his arm around your shoulders the entire time, kissing you and your cheek.

- and after the team scores, he’s pulling you close after cheering, speaking loud enough for the guy to hear, “you’re their good luck charm, baby!”

- he’s full of one liners like that the entire night, each of which make you roll your eyes.

- “i know what you’re doing,” you tease, despite not doing / saying anything to stop him cus…honestly it’s so attractive how much he’ll fight for you.

- he just smirks, tossing a couple pieces of popcorn into his mouth, “oh, you love it.”

- and that you do.

elliott.

- he’s also not the type to get jealous.

- or well, he doesn’t let it get to his head.

- his communication is too perfect.

- he’s not fragile enough to pout if you’re just talking to another guy. i think what he likes most about you is how welcoming you are.

- you’ll talk to anyone and everyone, and he definitely admires that about you.

- which is why i don’t think he’d think twice if he saw you talking with one of the other bachelors. you’re just striking conversation, getting to know everyone a little more.

- even then, you always tell him about it when you’re recapping your day.

- “oh, and then i dropped off one of the items shane requested today, got a nice chunk of change for that—“

- there’s nothing he needs to be jealous about. you’ve made it clear, and so has he.

- now being protective…that’s another story.

- he’s the perfect amount of protective.

- in general, he doesn’t look very intimidating. but he tries his best to make you feel secure if you’re out in public, and a guy keeps hitting on you.

- he knows you can handle yourself…i mean, ur the one who carries around a sword the majority of the time lmfao.

- but if it ever gets to the point where you’ve repeatedly shown disinterest, yet the guy won’t let up, he can step in.

- he’s so casual about it, swooping in by your side, sliding his arm around your waist.

- “you ready to go, honey? i called us a cab,” and he won’t even address the guy at all.

- “hey, we were in the middle of a conversation?”

- then he turns to him, gives him a bored once-over, before shrugging, “i don’t really think she wanted to talk to you, anyways.”

- whether the guy wants to press further is his own problem, because he’s hardly paying attention to what he’s trying to say.

- once you’re out of earshot and he’s finally let you go, he tugs you closer.

- “i’m glad you’re okay. sorry he wouldn’t leave you alone.”

- he’s so sweet you can’t help but smile, “don’t worry about it. thank you.” and he’s kissing your cheek, before actually hailing a cab.

1K notes · View notes

bwat5-blog · 26 days ago

Text

Caitlyn Kiramman Discussion Response: @xxbrightshadowxx

**Discussion of Arcane so obviously spoiler warning for entire show**

***REALLY LONG***

Before We Begin: To anyone aside from the user I tagged who reads this, please don't post anything aggressive on here. We have all done plenty of mud-slinging, INCLUDING ME. I am not judging or ragging on anyone. But they responded kindly and respectfully and have just asked for the same, which I intend to honor. Thank you.

Part One Of Discussion

Good morning, I have read through your entire response and as promised have returned to give my response as well. First of all, thank you for taking the time to read and respond at all. I'm just another internet random and you certainly don't owe me a moment of your time. Second, thank you for leaving the door open for good discussion and debate. I linked part one of this with your response as well up top in blue, and will paste your response below. That way this doesn't turn into an enormously long post, but we can see what was said and the response on this page.

Your Responses:

Hello. I will not lie, this is very impressive. You break down information and your response is effective. It’s organized, you get your point through very thoroughly. You also did it without insulting me which is a lot more than some tumblr users and TikTok users could do for me. You’re right it’s clear you and I are on opposite ends of how we felt about Caitlyn in season 2. Some of your points did change some of my thinking towards Caitlyn and some I still have the same feelings to.

You’re right Caitlyn was not in the right headspace when she went against Jinx and has a lot of PTSD from her so she wasn’t in the best of mind when she hit her. I’ll agree with that. For your point that Caitlyn apologized to Vi through her actions I have to disagree with that. That’s because the show never truly acknowledges Caitlyn leaving or hitting Vi. Her saving Vander, she does get a point for that however her running to Vi when she was injured instead of Jink just shows she still cares about her not that she’s necessarily sorry. Her keeping Jinx in the bunker rather than Stillwater, and holding off on any judgement until Vi is awake isn’t shown to be Caitlyn doing that because she wants to apologize to Vi. Her letting Vi free Jinx, while that could show she’s apologizing and making amends, it falls flat because Jinx leaves Vi so it doesn’t feel as effective, at least for me.

As for the gray and Ambessa’s manipulation: I also disagree with. Ambessa, while she did orchestra the attack at the funeral and put Caitlyn in charge, Caitlyn chose to use the gray on Zaun. The gray is a gas. That is what I meant by nuclear/chemical warfare(should’ve been more specific, sorry) You cannot control a gas once it’s released. And the gray isn’t just a tear gas or anything it is a life ending gas that could kill people. We learn this from Viktor who was dying from it in season 1. And the excuse that it was Chembarons they were using it on doesn’t help it. It does not matter if the chembarons weren’t good people and were criminals. They were still people. You mentioned the deleted scenes that make Caitlyn look better and I actually haven’t seen them. I’ll look into them when I’m less busy. But you mentioned deleted scenes and how there are no proven longer term effects to such a ‘short’ amount. There is a deleted scene of Ekko bringing people to the firelight base, people that aren’t one of the chembarons that were coughing from the gray. People who weren’t chembarons were also affected by the gray. But then again, it was a deleted scenes so it is a weak rebuttal since it wasn’t actually in the show. You are right, the show doesn’t glorify the gassing but it doesn’t ever acknowledge the event after it happens. No one calls out Caitlyn on the morality of using the gray or the effects it could have on the people. She doesn’t get consequences for gassing people or hurting Vi. The show doesn’t even mention the hit again after it happens. When Vi does call her out, it’s not for her attacks on Zaun. It’s for listening to Ambessa.

About Jinx, Sevika, and Silco. I do believe you simplify their actions. I do give Jinx more slack because she is a product of Piltover’s neglect and oppression. Don’t get me wrong, she’s crazy and very violent. But all her issues stem from Piltover’s abuse Enforcers killed her parents during whah seemed to be a protest against Piltover. Silco did affect her and made her who she was but he wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t already affected by Piltover. yes, Silco is awful. He wants more than anything to get revenge on Topside rather than freedom for Zaun which causes him to do things that hurt his own people without remorse. But the only reason he was the way he was from resentment for Piltover constantly treating them like crap as stated before in season 1. His resentment overtook his want for freedom for his people and it turned him for the worse. If Topside treated Zaun better, Silco would’ve never become the monster he was. And as for Sevika, it’s implied she’s also a product of Piltover’s neglect. The reason why the killed Vander is because Vander was bending to Piltover’s will. He might’ve stopped the enforcers going down there but Zaun was still fighting for scraps, they were still treated as less and Vi calls him out for it. Im not saying them attacking and trying to kill the kids makes it right. But what I am saying is if you want to say Caitlyn is complex then you have to admit that Silco, Sevika, and Jinx are as well. Caitlyn, she gets consequences for going against Ambessa by her injuries but she doesn’t get consequences for hurting Vi or gassing Zaun. Also, it’s not that I only love Caitlyn when she isn’t affected by the things she went through. It’s just that I don’t love how the writers handled the direction her character went through even though I think they could’ve made it work with their vision. As a tumblr user I like said: ‘they wanted the aesthetic of a person gone down the wrong path while still making them seem good in their eyes’.

To finish this long reply, you make great points in the defense of Caitlyn, some making me take on a new perspective. there is so much more I most likely missed or counterpoints you might have for me. I also plan to read through your analysis posts to see how you interpreted them. If you do and want to rebuttal I’d be interested to see what you have to say as long as you stay respectful to me and I’ll do the same for you.

End Your Responses

You disagree that Caitlyn ever truly apologizes for hitting and leaving Vi-

Okay I responded to your overall complaint that Caitlyn never really apologizes to Vi. I stated that while it is correct she never verbally apologizes, she does so through her deeds.

You responded to each point, explaining why you still don't feel that it was truly addressed and Caitlyn truly apologized:

"For your point that Caitlyn apologized to Vi through her actions I have to disagree with that. That’s because the show never truly acknowledges Caitlyn leaving or hitting Vi"

You then responded to each point:

1. We agree on Caitlyn helping save Vander. 2. You feel that prioritizing saving Vi over hurting Jinx was more an expression of still caring for Vi rather any remorse for her actions. 3. You feel that Caitlyn keeping Jinx in the bunker and holding off on judgement was not shown as an apology. 4. You feel that while allowing Vi to free Jinx could be seen as making amends, it falls flat because Jinx leaves. (you make a point of mentioning at it does so at least for you)

Okay, so I already mentioned the actions I consider her expressions of apology and remorse. But we need to talk about her words as well. There are three big moments that show her feelings about her actions in particular:

S2 E8 28:51- "I know!"

Vi has confronted Caitlyn over Jinx being locked up. When Caitlyn says it was clear Jinx was a contingency in the commune because Vi didn't trust her, Vi straight up calls her out-

"Can you blame me? How long were you sidled up with that shifty, self-serving war pig? She oinked poison in your ear and you just ate it"

Our timestamped quote is how Caitlyn responds. She is clearly upset and angry with herself. She knows what she did and is acknowledging her wrong doing in allowing herself to be twisted up and used by Ambessa.

S2 E8 28:19- "We can't erase our mistakes. None of us"

The conversation continues. Vi tells her that Jinx has changed and this is how Caitlyn responds. But again, we have to look at Caitlyn is actually saying.

"None of Us"

They have been talking about Jinx. Caitlyn is verbally equating herself with Jinx. The woman she hated so intensely it drove her to this point. The woman who killed her mother. And even though she is saying it about Jinx she is saying it about herself as well.

She is looking at Vi and saying in another way- "Nothing can erase what I did"

S2 E8 27:06- "No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes!...Hating you... I've hated myself. I just don't have the energy for it any longer".

So as we know, following her conversation with Vi Caitlyn goes to see Jinx in the bunker and they have this moment.

So once again, Caitlyn verbally equates herself with Jinx. This time speaking to Jinx directly. That is twice now she has placed herself on the same level as the woman who killed her mother, who she allowed her hate for to drive herself so far over crossing the line. Twice that she has expressed the belief there is no way that not only Jinx, but that SHE can make things right.

And perhaps most telling of all, it is not to Vi who she loves, that she admits she has hated herself. It's to Jinx. The woman who once haunted her literal waking steps, who she hated with such intensity that she cast aside everything she believed in, who killed her mother. I suspect guilt doesn't even begin to cover how she feels.

Okay. Now, I am well aware that none of that is a direct apology to Vi over what she did. My reason for mentioning those moments is that we have to remember Caitlyn is not a character known for outward display of emotion. Not that it doesn't happen, but no matter how you feel about her I think we can agree she is never really shown to be the overly mushy type. Look at the moment tells her father she could have stopped Jinx:

S2 E1 30:30- "I had the shot"

We at least agreed Caitlyn went through some seriously messed up stuff in season one. So she has been through all of that, now she is dealing with her mother's death and sitting on the couch next to her father. And this is all she says. Staring down at the ground with teary eyes she says this one thing, blaming herself.

She was never the sort that was going to fall on her knees and beg Vi's forgiveness. It just isn't in line with her personality or depiction. So keeping that in mind I would argue we need to view her actions I listed with this new context in mind that I have given:

1. She is aware and admitting she messed up and is clearly angry over it 2. She feels that nothing can erase what she did 3. She feels no good deed can undo her crimes 4. She is placing herself on the same level as Jinx 5. She hates herself for what she did 6. She is not the sort of character to express herself through her words

Saving Vander: We agreed on this one

Prioritizing saving Vi over hurting Jinx: I actually do see your point here even with this context. But, I think that the fact that when Caitlyn didn't have time to think and just had to tact, her eyes never left the woman she hurt so terribly in pursuit of her hatred even though the object of said hatred was there with her back turned. And I think that speaks greatly to the change in Caitlyn's heart.

Holding Jinx in the bunker and postponing judgement: So this is the first one where Caitlyn has any measure of time to think. When I say this is a way of making amends I don't mean Caitlyn saw it as-

"I screwed up, if I keep Jinx out of Stillwater and don't execute her maybe I can make things right"

Caitlyn doesn't believe she can make things right, as we have seen. She doesn't think anything she does can erase her crimes. And she sees herself in the same light as the woman who killed her mother. She hates herself.

Regarding this point, we have to remember Caitlyn is not the only person who wanted Jinx's head on a plate. The elite of Piltover, the families of every Enforcer she killed, there are countless people who would be baying for Jinx's execution. But Caitlyn keeps her close, and even though she was still The Commander at that time and had all authority needed to do so, she does not hurt her. She waits for Vi, because even if she can't make it right, she doesn't want to make it any worse.

Allowing Vi to free Jinx: So on this one you stated you can see it as making amends, but it fell flat for you because Jinx left Vi. You are of course entitled to your opinion and I understand if you feel that way. All I'd say I suppose is that just to remember what the weight of that decision actually means regarding Caitlyn. She set aside her hatred of her mother's killer, in favor of her love for Vi. Even if it would mean she lost Vi forever.

You disagree with my points regarding Caitlyn & The Grey-

Regarding the use of The Grey you raise several points:

1. You admit that while Ambessa orchestrated the attack on the memorial, Caitlyn made the choice to use The Grey 2. You clarify your overall complaint was her use of chemical warfare against the defenseless of Zaun regarding your point in your original post- "She gassed and used nuclear warfare against the defenseless in Zaun" (You clarified you meant chemical) 3. You state The Grey is not like tear gas, it is fatal. And that we learn this from Viktor who was dying of it in season one. 4. The use of The Grey is not justified just because The Chem-Barons are criminals, as they are still people 5. There were people affected who were not bad guys 6. The show does not acknowledge using The Grey, she faces no consequences for it, and when Vi calls her out it is for Ambessa, not for her actions in Zaun

Caitlyn made the decision to use The Grey on her own:

She absolutely did. No arguments. But I will say I think considering the context is extremely important and something that is often left aside when this comes up. I am posting a section of another post I did below that addresses this topic exactly. Part of this post was proving Ambessa set up the attack as well so ignore that as we already agree.

***START OLD POST***

Let's go back in time to the aftermath of Jinx's attack on the council and what their plan of retaliation entails. S2 E1 33:37-Ambessa smirking at Mel as Salo explains "I thought it prudent to solicit the advice of such an experienced veteran"

S2 E1 33:20- Salo finishes explaining his plan- "We flood the undercity with Enforcers, armed with Hextech"

S2 E1 33:18- Caitlyn immediately protests "innocents will be caught in the cross fire"

S2 E1 32:02-31:58- Mel agrees to a form of the plan after Salo continues to push. "I'll agree to endorse the invasion. But I draw the line at Hextech".

Okay. So we have established the Council's intention in clear and precise language with examples straight out of content- INVASION. But! There's a problem. Because what does Ambessa actually want? Fully weaponized hextech. How do we know this? Well she told us-

S1 E9 33:35- "If there is a chance hextech can be weaponized, we must have it" Ambessa says after being confronted by Mel

S1 E9 33:32- "Piltover isn't your testing ground" Mel responds S1 E9 33:23- "I can't believe you'd start a war just to cover your ass" Mel continues S1 E9 33:20- " I would set the world ablaze to protect our family" Ambessa admits

Alright so we know the Council's plan. And we know Ambessa's motivation, including how far she'd go to achieve it and that comes straight from her own mouth. She openly admits she'd not only start a war, but light the world on fire to do what she views as needed to protect her family. The council's failure to ratify Salo's plan of all out aggression counters her goal.

So how does she push it to that point? The memorial attack. She sent her man Rictus to assist the Chem Baron Renni, giving her the chance for revenge on Jayce during the memorial. She of course then came to the rescue with her people, killing Renni herself. We see evidence of all of this below:

S2 E3 5:48- Flashback begins showing everything we just discussed

Ambessa's goal: Weaponized Hextech at any cost

Council's plan: Invasion without Hextech

Ambessa's response: Organizes a full Zaunite incursion in the middle of a memorial service killing several and stoking hostility and fear to an all time high

Back to Caitlyn-

Okay finally we are back. So as I said, she protests the invasion plan but is denied. We see this clearly. The memorial attack occurs and of course we know from there Caitlyn forms the plan for the strike team, goes to the council, then she and the team go into Zaun utilizing The Grey and so on. So lets review the conversation leading her to create the team. It's after the memorial attack. She is understandably quite upset- no matter how much you don't like her they got attacked during a memorial for her mom- and she and Vi talk.

S2 E1 7:48 to 7:41- Vi tells Caitlyn "you need to find a way to call off the invasion... This battle was on your soil. Down there, you'll be on their terms" S2 E1 7:35 to 7:27- In response to Vi telling Caitlyn they need to change it when Caitlyn says "none of this is on our terms" Caitlyn says "I don't know how okay? She leaves this giant hole, and I'm just supposed to fill it. Like she was never here to begin with."

S2 E1 5:26 to 5:16- Salo is speaking to the others in the wake of the attack pressing once more for the full weaponization of Hextech. "We can't afford anymore handwringing. If we do not defend ourselves with Hextech, our principles will mean nothing".

And from there as we know, she uses The Kiramman Key and learns about The Grey. From there we get the "Heavy Is The Crown" sequence where the strike team is revealed.

Conclusion:

Caitlyn formed the strike team and used The Grey as an alternative to The Invasion. She only did so because of The Memorial Attack.

Ambessa conclusively and undeniably orchestrated the memorial attack.

Ambessa did so after declaring in her own words in season 1 after being accused of being willing to start a war "I would set the world ablaze to protect our family"

Caitlyn used The Grey because of Ambessa and the events she orchestrated.

***END OLD POST BACK TO CURRENT DOC**

So all of that mess to say, while I do of course agree that the end of the day Caitlyn made the choice. I all too often see this component totally left out. Ambessa intentionally and knowingly orchestrated not only an attack, but an attack during a memorial knowing it would enrage people. If she hadn't done we never would have arrived where we do.

Addressing points 2-4: Caitlyn used chemical warfare against the defenseless, it is fatal, and the use of it against the criminal element does not justify its use as they are still human beings.

Okay, the reason I am addressing three points in one is these all fall under the same issue. There has been quite a lot of criticism levelled at Caitlyn all under the heading of chemical warfare. All with mention of the real-world definitions and laws that classify such things, and the accusations of how she violated them. At the end of the day, this is all a work of fiction. So real-world technical standards of war crimes, chemical warfare and so on have no meaning in-world.

And that of course isn't to say there is anything wrong with analyzing fiction through a real world lens to a point. If you are interested as an exercise in curiosity I delved into how the use of The Grey would be classified per The Chemical Weapons Convention myself. To the best of my ability I deduced it would actually be called a "Riot Control Agent" or "RCA", not a "Chemical Weapon". It's linked below but I realize sending additional documents when I'm already on here writing novels is obnoxious.

Grey War Crime Doc

So setting aside the real-world standards at least for this conversation (you are of course entitled to stick to them for yourself as see fit), we can very much so talk about The Grey with what we are given from content.

Is The Grey Fatal?

Long Term Exposure: Absolutely it can be. We see the sketches of those Zaunites when caitlyn is using the key with those terrible injuries. Viktor actually isn't confirmed to be sick from The Grey itself but more than likely. There is all sorts of dialogue and plenty of evidence to back this up.

Short Term Exposure: There is zero evidence to support this. Every single person we see exposed during the Strike Team's use of it, during Silco's use of it, and during the final battle is either alive, or quite clearly died from something else. Of course as I said in the other post, we can speculate. But we can speculate about all sorts of things. Vi's repeated head trauma alone is very likely to end in seizures or CTE if we want to get into that. Sevika is a chain smoker. Jinx is infused with shimmer and looks like she weighs roughly 90 pounds who knows what her future holds. That could go on forever. But if short term exposure is fatal as you suggest, this is a list of characters who are going to die of complications, or should have died already-

Caitlyn

Jinx (I know but I'm of the camp that she survived)

Steb

Sevika

Piltover boy Ambessa uses as an anti-zaun prop

Heenot

And those are just the ones whose names we know. There are many things in our world that are extremely dangerous when exposed to excessive quantities, but quite mundane at lesser quantities. All evidence given by the show itself suggests The Grey falls into this category.

2. Did Caitlyn Gas The Defenseless?

First, lets review her named targets of The Strike Team:

Jinx

Associates of Silco (the chem-barons)

Shimmer

So at the very least, her named targets are not anyone defenseless. Now as we know, the deployment of The Grey was via the ventilation system Cassandra Kiramman herself created. This means two things:

-It wasn't being dropped as bombs, or fired from cannons or any of that. It was coming from specific points at chosen times. -Caitlyn had control of it. Not arguing what she did with it yet, just that she herself was the one "at the wheel" if you will. And we do get confirmation of this via the Hellfire animation with plans showing the controls and actual images of Caitlyn using them

I bring that up only to show that it was not just some sort of random flooding of The Undercity.

Moving on! So, we know they at the absolute least did not enter Zaun intending to target anyone defenseless or innocent, and that Caitlyn did have some amount of control over its use. Now we come to this quote by writer/creator Amanda Overton:

"It was strategic to a pin point. Still, is that forgivable?"

Now I know as I stated before in the original post, many people who are very unhappy with Caitlyn's story in season two have made up their mind to ignore/disregard this quote. If you feel that way, I cannot argue it because that is your right. But as she is one of the creators and she did say it, I factor it into my conversation and will continue to do so.

Now, we of course do have the address the issue of it being a gas, fictional or not. I absolutely agree that there was no way it could be controlled completely. And we do see this, in S2 E2 31:29 Smeech and his crew arrive at Margot's base to find the grey leaking out of the big statue's eyes and mouth to a point. But I would point out two things.

This is what it looks like outside-

It looks thick but some of that is regular Zaun smog we always see, plus Smeech and his associated while covering the mouths are able to speak quite freely with only a bit of coughing

2. This is what it looks like where they actually let it loose just on the other side-

So my point is this. I absolutely agree they could not guarantee it would only impact their chosen targets. But I would say that clearly the system they use is giving them at least a decent amount of control.

In Review:

Caitlyn very specifically names targets that only pose a threat to everyone's safety, Piltover & Zaun alike.

The deployment of The Grey is proven to be under her control to a point.

One of the creators of the show confirmed Caitlyn used The Grey in a strategic manner

While acknowledging and recognizing that The Grey cannot be contained completely, the evidence we see of that very thing suggests that environmental exposure is fairly controlled at least while dealing with Chem-Baron bases themselves.

So my question regarding this topic is as follows: Which of these two statements seems more fair and honest given this topic?

Caitlyn gassed the defenseless.

Caitlyn used the grey in a tactical and strategic fashion, but in her growing anger and hate failed to account for the potential risk to the defenseless of Zaun.

Because as I have said several times now. I'm not out to justify her wrong doing. Just to bring down the heat of the rhetoric around her story so it can be discussed fairly and honestly.

3. Was gassing the Chem-Barons unjust?

So this is again something that is going to come down a lot to opinion. But, we can certainly discuss it. To review a few pertinent factors:

Caitlyn's strike team is an alternative to a full invasion, as we saw.

The chem-barons have weapons and shimmer.

The Grey is only proven to be fatal with long-term exposure. Otherwise it is temporarily debilitating like tear gas.

So, Piltovan retaliation is coming. That is not up for debate. The chem-barons are extremely dangerous. If Caitlyn doesn't use The Grey, and they want to stop the invasion as we showed earlier, what is her option?

Fighting. Room to room, floor to floor, more than likely fatal fighting. Instead of using the grey and arresting everyone while they are coughing up a fit, more than likely a lot of people are going to die.

And we have to remember, while of course the Chem-Barons are people. They are very dangerous, and they are not good for Zaun either. We see Sevika trying to stop their turf wars because they are ripping Zaun apart. And this section of lyrics for Suckers put it quite plainly as Jinx is walking through the fracturing Undercity-

"Dirty little animals You cannibals, eat your supper One by one, all these vultures keep coming"

As we are given scenes of them destroying each other. These are violent, greedy, evil people ripping their home apart.

Something we should also address is that at least Chross (if not the other barons) has forced child labor somewhere in his organization. We see them being taken during the Suckers montage. So, does this mean if there were children in a base that got hit with the grey then they did as well?

Yes it certainly does. But keeping in mind that the alternative is for Enforcers who don't care who they hurt wielding hex-tech weapons to storm these bases shooting shooting at will, what is the better option for these kids? The Grey, or a bullet?

The show does not acknowledge using The Grey, she faces no consequences for it, and when Vi calls her out it is for Ambessa, not for her actions in Zaun

Okay, so this is kind of the wrap up regarding The Grey. So in review:

1. No in-canon evidence of being fatal from their use 2. It was used in the most controlled fashion they could 3. The alternative to the strike team was a full invasion, and the alternative to The Grey within the strike team was active and likely much more deadly fighting 4. The people they did target were dangerous, well armed, and posed a threat to everyone's safety

So what does all that mean?

It means that the use of The Grey, is not wrong for the reasons people have made it out to be. Not in this instance. Let's return to just the small bit of lyrics from "Hellfire"-

"Can I do the right thing for the wrong reason? Is it bad that I'm making friends with my demons"

Putting Jinx aside because her dynamic with Caitlyn is obviously much more complicated, the strike team's goals are good for everyone. Shimmer is a blight on Zaun. Ekko himself says so. And we have already covered the barons. Removing these things is undeniably good for Zaun. And with the alternative being an invasion or what would clearly be much more deadly fighting, I genuinely cannot fathom a way in which they could have done this better. What they are doing, is not the issue. It's why.

Caitlyn doesn't lead a strike team into Zaun to liberate the people of The Undercity from these threats that Piltover's negligence and abuse have allowed to flourish. That would be another issue entirely. She is there chasing her hate, her rage, and her need for revenge, and she doesn't see it because she can justify it under doing "the right thing". She doesn't see that its "for the wrong reason". And therefore is leading her down a darker and darker path, no matter how many lives it saved.

Something of note: Ekko is still in Zaun when this is going on. Now, I saw a post recently that suggested the writers left him out simply because they didn't want to address the fact that he would have to fight Vi and Caitlyn if he was present in these scenes. However, as stated I am more inclined to analyze the story I was given. Therefore, if you consider all the evidence I have presented, and that Ekko had not yet vanished to the AU, what is the only logical result? He at the very least tacitly approved. Because he was such a champion for his people, if this was all truly so terrible, I think we can agree he would have been in their business immediately.

So regarding your complaint, I would say my response is that The Grey isn't what she has to apologize for. That's why it isn't a focal point moving forward. Especially from Vi who was there beside her.

You disagree with my oversimplification of Jinx, Silco and Sevika-

So actually I can answer this one fairly easily. You are 100% correct. My sort of quick and dirty list of the actions of these three characters was exactly that. It lacked the detail it should have had. And given that one of things I have addressed frequently is the lack of context to Caitlyn's actions many people to demonize her unfairly, that was wrong of me. Your closing to statement to this section is one I agree with entirely-

"But what I am saying is if you want to say Caitlyn is complex then you have to admit that Silco, Sevika, and Jinx are as well."

In closing before your comments to me you revisit the topic of Caitlyn's consequences-

You see her consequences as for going against Ambessa only, not for her actions in Zaun or for hurting Vi

You don't love how the writers handled her character and story

You share a quote you agree with- "they wanted the aesthetic of a person gone down the wrong path while still making them seem good in their eyes'

Regarding Consequences:

Well as we have discussed this may just be one of those things we feel differently about. I think if you were looking for "eye for an eye" transactional sort of punishment that isn't what this story is.

But, I will try to give a clear list of what I see as consequences of her actions. I'll leave it to you to decide what heading they belong under. Keeping in mind of course that some of things are more nebulous in definition, such as long term mental health impact, but I feel that in a show like Arcane it is reasonable to assume these characters would experience such things.

Immense physical injuries: Fight against Ambessa

Immense guilt: All of it. As we established because she says in plain english, she hates herself. And if you really think about how this spiderwebs into everything that has happened there will likely be a part of Caitlyn that NEVER stops punishing herself for this

They almost lost the fight until Zaun showed. And Zaun initially didn't show yes because of their history but also because of the occupation

Mental trauma like you wouldn't believe: I mean take your pick, but the woman she was sharing a bed with while Vi was gone almost murdered her

Now, I see all of that as consequences of her mistakes and decisions in season two. Listed below is the Miriam Webster definition of consequence.

Now, I don't post that to be an arrogant jerk. I know you know what a consequence is. I post it because more and more I am getting the impression that many fans who feel as you do are looking for this:

And again, if that is how you feel, that is your prerogative. But the way I view the events that unfold, she will be living with the consequences of her actions for the rest of her life. And if you are looking for punishment, from who?

As stated, everything she did was entirely lawful. Now I am of course not saying that makes it okay. Far from. But she acted completely and totally within the bounds of the rules and laws set by this shows world. So there is no judicial punishment to be meted out.

And if you are looking for the other sort of punishment- retribution , then from whom?

Vi- Vi loves her. And Vi is also aware that Caitlyn spared Jinx's life at Vi's pleading and her entire life was ripped apart. Vi is also aware of what it feels like to lose control in a terrible moment and hurt someone you love (By the way I'm not one of those people equating Caitlyn hitting Vi to Vi hitting Powder. Clearly the actions of children versus adults, just saying Vi knows how that feels). Vi also saw who Caitlyn was before she lost her way. The same Caitlyn who saved her life repeatedly, and who comforted her after the fight on the bridge. The same Caitlyn who helped save Vander at the drop of a hat and who let Vi free her mother's killer, because she loves Vi more than she hates her.

Zaun- Regarding the grey, we have discussed that. As far as I'm concerned Caitlyn removed terrible threats from the streets of Zaun. Now talking about the occupation and Martial Law does Caitlyn owe a debt to Zaun? Of course. But Caitlyn's debt is not Piltover's. She shouldn't have to shoulder the last however many years of oppression and negligence because that nothing to do with her. The worst deeds of the occupation were done without her knowledge and away from her eyes. She was manipulated and used by an extremely intelligent and calculating war monger who stoked the conflict for her own designs. It doesn't excuse her letting herself be blinded to it for the sake of her vengeance. But she was hardly the head of the snake either.

And in closing regarding consequence or punishment, I'll say this. I know her near-death was because she fought Ambessa. But let's not forget what a victory for Ambessa and Viktor meant. Viktor intended to evolve all of humanity. Caitlyn willingly put her life on the line, and almost lost it, for a battle that mattered to the future of Zaun just as much as Piltover. And when it was all said and done,(although I acknowledge we never really get the specifics on how it works in terms a new councilor being chosen) Caitlyn doesn't sit in her mother's old seat. A Zaunite does.

You don't love how the writers handled it:

Nothing for this one that is entirely your right

"they wanted the aesthetic of a person gone down the wrong path while still making them seem good in their eyes"

So it's hard to dig too much into another person's quote. But I have seen something to the effect going around so I think I understand.

There has been a lot of commentary lately essentially saying it's like they were unwilling to commit to Caitlyn's villainous arc. That by continuing to use plot points and scenes that show her in a sympathetic light, they failed to stick the landing regarding her "turn to the dark side"

If (And I do mean if because this is someone else's quote and I don't want to put words in your mouth) that is what you mean I just cannot see it.

You yourself clearly outline Caitlyn as a good person in season one. So the way I see it:

Good person in season one + Conflicted person who makes mistakes in season two= Conflicted good person who makes mistakes.

They don't fully commit to her being a villain, because she never was one.

WRAP UP:

Good god I'm obnoxious. I feel like this is somehow even longer. I'm really sorry lol. Anyway, I really appreciate you for being willing to engage and discuss. If you are done I totally get it but I'd love to keep on if you are up for it. I'm genuinely enjoying the chance for some good respectful debate. Thank you for your time.

#arcane #arcane season 2 spoilers #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #caitvi #jinx arcane #arcane season 1 #vi and jinx #arcane vi #caitlyn kirraman #arcane silco #sevika arcane #arcane ekko #arcane zaun #piltover arcane #really long post #arcane discourse #vander arcane #vander

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mgnifique-tion · 9 months ago

Text

— from the heart.

summary || ``the scientist, y/n l/n, finds the key to the god of mischief’s hardened heart.``

pairing: 2012!loki x gn!scientist!reader song recommendations: i’ll be your man - btob / covered by park jeup, choi suhwan, and kim seunghun (build-up) lowercase is intended… »» read part 1 here

— themes and warning/s: open-ended (yet again), very mild swearing, the enemies have turned to complicated lovers, religious/christian metaphors, angst, death of family member (mentioned), thor mentioned 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥 (just a heads-up)

— a/n: entry for april! what the hell, y’all… how did i get so active writing about loki, i’m not even into the mcu that much anymore (idk, probably because he turned into a tree and that was sad?) anyway, this is the second part to “human reaction” so if you haven’t checked that out, just click the link on the title for some backstory. this has also turned out longer than earlier so wow, i think i’ve gone crazy for loki (thanks a lot, tom 👍) — edit: hello, so this was supposed to be up for april but i'm posting it now on july because, unfortunately, i have a very busy life with unexpected events taking place. enjoy reading!

[ total words: 2.5k ]

support me on ko-fi! ☕

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

it was past midnight and that self-proclaimed god had brought you to the top of a hill, telling you to wait for him as he’ll be taking some time to converse with his allies.

allies in ruling the world? yes.

“faen!” you heard him growl into the darkness, which startled you from the rock you were sitting on. but of course, that sudden shock died down due to how tired you already were; sleepless and alert from anything that could happen if you’d ever close your eyes. there was that fear that you may never open them again if you had left them closed shut even for just a little minute.

there was a long pause until you decided that it’d be somewhat of a good idea to say something. a single word at least just to fill in the silence. “... so, did the meeting go well?–”

“oh, will you just not question it!?” loki grunted, startling you again. well, he did say he wouldn’t lay a finger on you so erupting like a volcano right at you wasn’t technically breaking any rule. “don’t you see? it’s obvious that nothing else had gone well, you imbecile! what else would i have to offer you in exchange for your eternal silence!?”

then, he proceeded to take in a deep breath, closing his eyes to collect himself and his emptied patience while you just stared at him. yes, of course, you hated his guts and the fact that you couldn’t really do anything against him but you never intended to offend him; that question was genuine.

in fact, every single response you’ve ever given him was genuine.

“sorry,” you blurted out, “i was just asking. i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or something... just wanted to know what went on.” the way your voice sounded so hazy and somehow breathy had given him the impression that you were already exhausted, not just mentally but rather physically. you couldn’t think of the words to respond anymore and maybe it would’ve been better if you had just said nothing.

but surprisingly, this was just another reason for loki to take interest toward your gift: humanity, as he’s said. “... did you just?–”

“yes… i did. i did apologize!” you didn’t even notice how your tone had changed; you’ve never raised your voice at him for the sake of him doing the same for you but you’ve had enough. you weren’t a friend, you weren’t even anything to him. you were just a total mortal stranger he spared, which does not give any reason for both of you to yell at each other but that rule has been broken.

after all, you’re just human and that is natural.

“i have never insulted after you’ve spared me,” you reminded him bitterly, getting up from that rock you’ve been sitting on ever since the past hour. you don’t even know why this god had brought you here and something about it was just familiar to you, just like the sacrifice of isaac. “i couldn’t sleep... i couldn’t eat... i couldn’t even ask you to stop whatever the fuck you’re doing to my world anymore but the moment i asked you about your stupid meeting, you just– you just blow up at me! is this what i get from saving you!?”

and that was the first time you’ve ever startled a god.

loki was stunned. slightly amused but completely out of words. just by staring at him, you’d know that he would start thinking of something with a smug smile but there was nothing on his face; he was fazed by you.

“right,” he said with a low chuckle, “i must’ve forgotten you were human with feelings all over the place... natural... real.”

as the scepter started glowing again, panic rushed in your head and you damn knew that you had to run – just like the many times you’ve thought of that scenario but it just never took place. “you want a meal and an hour of sleep?”

“make it at least two–”

“four, it is.”

and despite the second peak of terror just occuring, that was also the second time he’s ever shown actual generosity. “you humans are too fragile,” loki commented with yet another chuckle as you huffed since that’s all you could do; you don’t trust his promises after all and you might never will. “... you really do need a proper leader. a god you can see, feel, and touch… not some written messiah.”

oh.

that statement must’ve crossed borders.

“... where do you want to eat?” he asked softly, almost as if he’s returning that genuine question he didn’t even bother to listen to. you were starting to wonder whether this was a symbol of your last meal. the last thing you’ll ever eat before your execution.

who knows what else he could do with that scepter of his. “... well, in-n-out is open for twenty-four hours so…” you trailed off, looking away for a bit as your eyes scanned the area. every hill and path already turned into several landmarks in your mind as if you were the first person to discover it. “... would that be okay?”

once those uncertain words left your lips, the god of mischief smugly smirked back and nodded once. “i have one condition, however.” loki, of course, had to have some benefit from allowing you to take your basic needs as he stood before you, his hands clasped together and shown rather than his usual. “you’re not allowed to eat alone, therefore, once you purchase your cheap delicacies, we’ll come back here.”

so, a total bummer? of course, loki would know how to ruin your chances of escaping even if you hadn’t plotted against him… yet. “i wouldn’t want my apprentice to attempt freeing themselves, would i?” he knew what he was doing and you just had no choice; you needed to eat. you needed sleep. you needed to survive and in order to do so, you must abide by his rules.

he did spare you, didn’t he?

and as time passed by, you were now seated in the same mountain area, eating a take-out burger with a god. you didn’t know whether this was an early breakfast or a late dinner but nonetheless, you were somewhat grateful. “... are you not hungry?”

“gods don’t need to–”

“i bought you one, too.”

for some reason, loki just couldn’t say no to that as he continued to sit down next to you while your hands scrambled into the paper bag, searching for the other burger. at the moment, this was the only thing you could afford since he’s taken you under him once he’d given you that offer: wherein he or his blue-eyed minions couldn’t hurt you yet you still had to be somewhat his subject; a witness and a bystander.

after all, how could he lead humanity without being familiar with one?

“why aren’t you making attempts yet?” loki asked, “this is your perfect and only way of taking the hit and setting yourself free from my commands.”

“because i stick by my words,” you said back effortlessly, “i’ll be here until you let my co-workers– my friends go.”

he was silent again. in some way, he expected you to tell him that you were staying because you simply wanted to but a whiplash of reality quickly swept him away from his delusions. “so, you’re telling me that you’d wait until i let them go, huh? you’re willingly waiting for ages, then.”

the god hardened his heart and set aside any chances of letting your friends go as he chuckled before taking a bite from his burger. on the other hand, you just sat there, rethinking your choices; there’s no way nothing could convince him to let them go, right?

“yet i do admire your everlasting… hm… patience,” he pointed out, later letting out another low chuckle. “now that is something i don’t have… how do you do it?”

for the very least amount of times, he actually was genuine with that question. “well, i had a baby sister and she definitely trained me a lot with my patience.” you laughed, the delayed silence seeping in little by little, which made him cock his head to the side, curious about the matter.

“... had?” he just had to ask about it. “she passed away.” and you just had to tell him.

hearing your solemn, guilty answer was enough to make loki hooked to that story behind your younger sister’s passing. it wasn’t something you’d openly talk about but it surely was the only thing you endlessly blamed yourself for.

“... oh,” loki uttered with a rather bitter tone, “i’m sorry for your loss… how old was she?”

“twelve.”

considering the fact that he was thousands of years old, his eyes widened after finding that out. “... that’s young,” he commented rather blankly but the look on his face was otherwise; you weren’t the only one terribly heartbroken about the incident. loki took the lives of eighty individuals in two days but never did he think of taking the life of a young child.

so, that was terrifying to think of. “and that happened because of?”

“... terminal disease.”

no matter how casual you sounded to him, your heart shattered. “well, actually, it could’ve been her twenty-second birthday last month if she made it… i’m a bit sappy now, aren’t i?” reality woke you up and told you to snap out of it; you weren’t talking to a friend, you were talking to a dictator. an alien. the god of mischief.

this story was not supposed to be and shouldn't be disclosed with him. “be sappy all you want,” he said, taking a sip from the straw of his cola. “after all, a god should be able to listen to his people’s messages, right?”

narcissistic? yes. but empathic? weirdly, that too.

“... that thing you used earlier,” you took a pause, letting out a sigh and then, a laugh. “it was supposed to be for her… well, for people like her at least.”

loki was giving it his best to not feel sorry – guilty for using the thing you’ve made but who knew that a sibling tragedy would soften his heart? he wouldn’t admit it, of course, but it was there. present at the moment and served as a reminder that he too had a sibling.

well, has.

“it was up for testing but of course, it was used for something else,” you said, eyeing him down as he managed to fake a chuckle; he couldn’t let himself show weakness after everybody else in his life made him feel like a nuisance – a tiny, little problem they’d have to deal with every day. not ever. never again. “... but i guess i still saved someone? and i still don’t know if i should be happy about that but it still provided its purpose.”

“oh, please.” he laughed, facing you more than he ever did before. “you saved me, your god and not anyone else… you should be celebrating this for your whole life.”

“you’re not the god i worship, loki.”

“well, i suggest you must. it’ll make this all easier for you.”

and he talked like a noble deity while eating a french fry. cheap and comical but it didn’t lower his status. “and, oh, if you do, there would be a lot of kneeling that’d occur.” that statement made you turn around and look at him with your brows either furrowed or raised; you had no idea how to react properly to it.

“... what–,” you were then stopped midway.

“i meant in praying.” he choked out.

this was one of your weirdest, most out of place conversations with the god so you just had to slowly turn away again and face the hills below both of you while munching on the burger in your hands. and then, he told you the truth you’ve kept deep in your chest, “... oh, i see it clearly now… you saved me because you want to prove yourself that you’re capable of keeping someone away from death. that you’re… worthy of things.”

it felt like time had stopped the moment you listened to him say that. for the first time, he was actually right with what he’d told you. he’d always claim the most bizarre things about humans and gods but this time, he was so close to the truth that he just blatantly told you what it was.

you were guilty because you couldn’t save her.

“i have a brother,” he added, “that’s why i… um… figured it out.”

“well, where is he, then? did you kill him?”

loki laughed at that. despite the hatred and fueling anger he had for his older brother, he wouldn’t end up killing him even though he’s close to it. the scars of the past made him into who he was now but the wound that his brother’s death would leave him absolutely destroyed. alone. all by himself. consumed by nothingness. just like what his old, so-called friends would tell him.

“he’s alive,” he said so soothingly, “and he’s living against what i had planned for this world.” those following words were much bitter, angrier than what he’s said before. it’s almost as if he’s relieved to see his brother again but upset enough to know that he wasn’t on his side.

“oh, you totally miss him.”

“... silence, peasant.”

and yet another unexpected scenario happened: sharing a laugh with the god of mischief who wants to rule over your world like a second hitler. “... but you can’t show that, can you?” you questioned and he nodded right away, politely letting you finish despite already expecting that you’d ask that.

when the cold air and the rustling leaves collided, it was time for you to ask him the question that might just change the entire situation.

“is everything all from the heart?” you asked, pointing towards your chest as you stated him down. “... are you saying all of this from the heart?”

it took loki a while before he accepted it; he did speak about all of it from the heart. all of it. no lies were told for once and it was chilling for him. he didn’t even know that he was capable of opening the doors to the secrets he’s kept locked and buried in but that was the effect of the midgardian sitting next to him; the human who made him realize why thor loved jane.

the human he was willing to rule and to love. “... if i asked you now, would you kiss me?”

and for some reason unknown, your lips did brush against his, caressing them softly while you brought your hands to the back of his head, tangling your fingers around his waved locks. maybe you had been caught up by the moment but for him, this was real. this was the moment he understood why thor wanted to protect this world.

because humans spoke from the heart.

but how could he take everything back when the damage had been done? when the chaos had taken over?

he pulled away and asked with teary, glistening eyes, “what have you done? why did you do it?”

one thing about him was that his need was also his one and only fear; it was love.

you were startled once again, still keeping your hands behind his head. was it a trick? was it some test? you didn’t know anymore. you were bound to do whatever it took to save your friends and if a kiss that you’ve been longing for could do it, then what else could go wrong?

well, things may have not gone wrong for you but to loki, this was his one and only wake-up call.

wake up, loki.

you’ve fallen for the human.

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loslentesdepedrito · 1 year ago

Text

I'm Your Wife- Chapter Seven

Javi gif by: @skyshipper Jack gif by: @javier-pena My Masterlist

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Previous Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Six

Word count: 9.2k+

Chapter summary: It's time for Ángel's surgery and the transplant preparation. Following the procedure, Jack visits his son, providing some closure regarding your marriage.

A/N: This chapter concludes the final installment of the series and stands as my penultimate post on this blog. Next week, hopefully, I'll be sharing one more post—a Din piece—officially wrapping up this blog. I intend to maintain my writing for another two weeks before ultimately closing my account. Thank you to everyone who has supported me!

Rating: 18+ No explicit content, but this is an 18+ page. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut, but if you don't want to read them, the story starts after the Whiskey bottles. Also, Jack's texts are in bold.

CW: angst is back again, but a happy ending is guaranteed, some science, mentions of surgery, chemotherapy, and stem cell transplant, Jack cannot use an iPhone, Javi and Jack tension, jealousy, pregnancy, divorce, and childhood disease.

Your conversation with Jack three hours ago left you drained and exhausted, and now you're perched on the chair in the corner of your son's hospital room. You're engrossed in watching Ángel and Javi talk about an upcoming soccer game and the probability of their favorite team winning the match when your phone vibrates underneath your thigh. With a subtle shift, you reach for it and once it’s in your hand, you flip it over. Your phone is illuminated with a family picture of you with your husband and son in the background and there’s a message on your Notification Center.

Jack Daniels: HI. TEXTING YOU FROM MY NEW PHONE.

Another vibration follows, prompting a second message.

Jack Daniels: WHY DID THE TEXT SEND IN UPPERCASE?

The sequence of messages from Jack continues, each notification accompanied by a vibration.

Jack Daniels: HOW DO I TURN THIS OFF?

Jack Daniels: HELP me. Wait, I figured it out. Sorry.

You haven’t clicked on the messages to take you to the chat. Instead, you hold and press, sending him a brief response:

Hi, Jack.

He doesn’t send anything back, and you turn off your phone. As soon as the screen is black, it lights up again.

Jack Daniels: I went to the store and picked up a new phone.

A second later, an image comes through.

You hover over the message once more, and it’s a front selfie Jack took. Well, it’s not quite a full-face selfie. It only captures just beneath his eyes, and his eyes and face are not looking directly at the camera, so you guess he was looking down trying to take a picture of something else.

You’re proven correct when a second picture comes through. This time it’s a box of an iPhone.

There’s a bubble on your text chain, and this time you fully click, opening the message thread with Jack.

Sorry, I don’t know how this phone works. I just didn’t want my phone to fail, and you didn’t have a way to contact me, so I got a new one. Did I miss anything?

You reply back with:

Ángel is already ready to go, we’re just waiting for a room to open up in the OR. Could take hours, though.

How did he take the news?

Very well, actually. Saying he’s excited to go home is an understatement. He sensed that we were worried about his surgery and he kind of gave us a lecture on how important it is to listen to doctors and gave us a small list of the benefits of chemo ports. When we asked him how he knew about the port, he said, and I quote, "some light reading."

Jack doesn’t take long to reply:

Smart boy. He definitely got that from you.

A smile graces your lips at his message, but you decide to shift the conversation:

We never talked about it, but do you want us to tell Ángel that you’re his donor?

Your nerves are on edge, and waiting for Jack’s response heightens your anxiety. Glancing up from your phone, you see Ángel still in deep conversation with Javi. Your phone vibrates again, and you look down at Jack’s response:

No. I don’t want him to want a relationship with me because of the donation. If he wants a relationship with me, I want it to be because he truly wants it, not because he feels any obligation.

You exhale, relieved, and reply:

Okay, we won’t tell him.

Thank you.

A text bubble appears:

How do I send the accent on his name?

Suppressing a laugh, your fingers glide over the keyboard:

Press the letter A for a good two seconds, and a whole lot of options should appear. Click on the third one.

It doesn’t take Jack very long to send a single:

He follows with:

Be honest, does it sound a bit funny when I pronounce his name?

You weigh your options, lie or be honest. You decide to go with the latter:

A little bit.

I remember when you used to make fun of my accent…

Liar. I didn’t make fun of you.

I miss that...

Oh, God, not again.

You’re about to reprimand him when, by some divine intervention, a fist knocks on the door, followed by a man in a polo and khakis. Quickly, you turn your phone off, redirecting your full attention to the man.

“Hi, I’m Will. I’m with patient transport services, and I’m here to take Ángel down to the OR,” he says.

“Come in,” you invite.

Javi stands up and retrieves your thick to-go bag from underneath the sofa. It's filled with water bottles, a variety of snacks, sweaters, sweatpants, and a few changes of clothes—because, as Javi says, uno nunca sabe (one never knows).

Will walks over to Ángel and looks at his hospital bracelet. He takes out a phone with a bulky blue case and scans the ID barcode. Will asks to no one in particular, “Can you please confirm his full name and date of birth.”

Javi does that for you.

Will nods and types something onto the phone. After a moment, he looks at Ángel, “Hey, little man, how are you doing?��

Ángel smiles, “I’m good, sir. I'm just waiting to get my chemo port. After that, I can get chemo and then a transplant so I can go home.”

Will chuckles, “That's a great plan, buddy. We’ll get you down to the OR, and they’ll take good care of you so you can go home soon. Ready to go to the sixth floor?”

Ángel nods enthusiastically, his eyes filled with trust.

“Great,” Will says, glancing at you and Javi. “If you guys are ready, we can head downstairs.”

Javi, lifting the heavy bag over his shoulder, nods in agreement. He glances at Ángel, a mix of tenderness and concern in his eyes, and then turns to Will.

“He’ll be under anesthesia, right?” Javi asks, his voice a bit gruffer than usual.

Will offers a reassuring smile, “Yes, sir. That's what his chart says.”

Javi nods, visibly swallowing some of his worry. “Okay, let’s get him down there.” He moves to help his son get up from the bed. Will positions the wheelchair closer to Ángel's bed, and together, they carefully lower Ángel onto the wheelchair. You reach for one of the blankets—a gift from your father-in-law—and drape it over Ángel. Will takes the IV wire and secures it on the designated hook at the back of the wheelchair.

"Are we all set?" Will asks.

"Yes," you affirm, and then Will wheels Ángel toward the door. Javi, anticipating the need, beats them to the exit, opens the door, and holds it wide open to let them pass. Stepping into the corridor, Javi instinctively reaches for your hands, intertwining fingers not just for your comfort but for his own solace as well. Together, you trail behind your son as Will expertly steers Ángel's wheelchair through the hallway.

Descending from the tenth floor via the patient elevators, you and Javi follow Will, who scans his badge to usher you through the double doors into the pre-op room.

Guiding Ángel to the left side of the room, Will selects a quiet corner and draws back a side of the arctic blue diamond-print curtains, revealing an unoccupied bed. Positioning the wheelchair beside the bed, he assists Ángel in transitioning onto the soft mattress.

"Alright, good luck, buddy. You'll do great in there," Will encourages, raising a fist. Ángel meets it with his own, and as their fists connect, they both playfully mimic the sound of an explosion.

"Thanks, sir," Ángel replies, his voice carrying gratitude. Then, in a quiet and unsure tone, he adds, "I'll see you after?"

Will's smile is reassuring. "Absolutely. I'll be the one taking you back up."

With that, Will takes a step back, giving Ángel some space. He turns to you and your husband, saying, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Peña, Mrs. Peña. Someone should be with you shortly."

"Thanks for everything, Will," you say, watching as Will, with a warm smile, exits and closes the curtain, providing you with some privacy with your son.

With only one chair in the room, Javi insists you take a seat, not wanting you on your feet.

"¿Y tú? (what about you?)" you ask, concern etched in your voice and face. Maybe it's because you went so long without a partner prioritizing you, or because in the time your son has been in the hospital, Javier has really taken care of almost everything. Sometimes you can't help but feel guilty that he always puts your comfort above his own.

"Me paro (I’ll stand)," Javi shrugs his shoulders as if it's the most obvious choice in the world.

"Papi, you can sit here," Ángel offers, patting the mattress.

"Está bien (it's okay), mijo, I can stand for a while," he smiles, loving that his son is always considerate.

"Baja ese bolso (put down that bag), at least," you plead with him.

"I'm good, someone should be here soon," Javi reassures.

"Pero, Javi- (but, Javi-)" You're interrupted when you hear a woman asking if she can come in.

He smirks and whispers, "Ves (see)." Dropping his cocky look, Javi opens the curtain to let the woman in.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Gaddi. I'll be Angel's anesthesiologist. Can I please get a full name and a birthday?"

Your son happily responds to the doctor's requests while she verifies the information on the computer.

"Great, thank you, sweetheart. Mom or Dad, I'll need your signature on the consent forms. If one of you will please follow me," she says.

"I'll go," Javi says, and to your relief, he finally drops the bag from his shoulder.

"It's just straight this way," the anesthesiologist says, motioning past the curtain where the nurse station is in the middle of the big room.

Javier nods and follows the doctor. "Ya vengo mis amores (I’ll be back my loves)," he says with a big smile before closing the curtain.

Once on the other side of the curtain, where you and his son can't see him, he exhales a shaky breath. The fear is there, gnawing at him, although he doesn't want to show it. He wishes he could share it with you, as he normally would, but you're pregnant. The stress is already too much, and he doesn't want it to affect the baby. That thought terrifies him, and he can't risk it. Through the course of your marriage, he's come to understand that sometimes, marriage isn't a perfect fifty-fifty. There are moments when one partner has to carry more, and right now, he knows it's one of those moments. He must bear the fear and shoulder some of yours. While he wants to share these worries with you, a deep-seated commitment to putting family first holds him back. His protective nature takes precedence, always prioritizing his family.

Javier raises his head back up and quickly turns around to follow the doctor, who is waiting for him.

Once he catches up to her, she tells him the forms are for consent of treatment. The doctor reads the online document, informing Javi about the procedure, the benefits, and the risks it entails.

Dr. Gaddi must have seen the look on Javier's face after she listed the risks and the way he nearly crumbled when she said "or death" because she stopped and turned to him.

"But... everything will be okay, right? He’s in good hands?” Javi asks, his voice cracking as if he's on the verge of tears; even speaking those words makes his throat ache, causing a noticeable strain in his voice.

"Sir, I can't make any promises. Every surgery does come with risks, but my team and I have successfully done this procedure multiple times.”

Javi tries his best to remind himself that everyone in the OR is experienced and has done this procedure before.

"Where do I sign?" he manages to ask, his voice slowly regaining its composure.

While Javi is with Ángel's anesthesiologist, a nurse, and another doctor come in to check on Ángel. He had only managed a short nap, so now, as he rests, you take out your phone and send a text to Jack.

Hey. We're in the Pre-op area. There's a room in the OR now, and I've met his doctors. As soon as the anesthesiologist comes back, they'll take him.

Jack replies instantly as if he's been sitting by, waiting for his phone to ring:

Thank you for letting me know.

He sends a follow-up:

His surgery is only supposed to take an hour, right?

That's what the doctors said. I'm sure he won't be in there for too long.

As Javi, Dr. Gaddi, and a nurse approach, you text Jack:

The anesthesiologist will be here soon. I'll send you any updates I get, and I'm going to send you Javi's contact info just in case.

After adding Javi's phone number and hitting send, your husband and the surgical team arrive.

Dr. Gaddi approaches, “Hi, Mom, everything is ready on our end to take the patient to the OR."

“Okay,” you say, rising to your feet. The staff gathers around the bed and begins to move it. Ángel stirs at the movement, calling for you and Javi before opening his eyes.

Javi quickly rushes to your side, closer to your son, and reassures him, "It's okay."

"Oh, am I going to surgery?" Ángel asks.

"Yes, you are, Angel," the nurse responds as he releases the brakes on the left side.

"Oh, okay, yay," Ángel smiles.

The nurse chuckles at his excitement, "You know, not many kids are excited for surgery."

"I'm excited because chemo ports look more comfortable than the IV. It gets in my way when I do, like, anything," Ángel explains with a huff.

"Well, I've heard from other patients that they prefer the port, so hopefully you will too," says Dr. Gaddi as she stands to the side, waiting to wheel Ángel out of the room.

She turns to you and your husband, saying, "You guys can follow us until that red line, and then you'll be taken to the waiting room."

You start feeling more anxious, and Javier senses it. He begins to rub your lower back, his warm hand moving up and down, offering comfort.

"Okay, ready," says the nurse.

With the curtain open, they go through first, and you and Javi are right next to your son’s bed.

You're so hyper-focused on your son that you don't realize you've made it right before the line that you can't cross.

"Love you, Mommy, love you, Daddy," Ángel says, reaching out for your hand.

You take his little hand in yours, and Javi covers both of your hands with his.

"Te amamos más, mi niño (we love you more)," Javi tells him in a soft voice. Everyone can hear the love pouring out of his words.

Ángel knows this and doesn't try to contradict his dad because he knows it would be in vain. Instead, he simply says, "Nos vemos en un ratito (We’ll see each other in a little bit)."

"Okay, mijo," you say, fighting back tears.

The doors open, and Ángel is wheeled in. You think the tears are coming, but when you hear the light sound of your son's laughter, you're able to compose yourself.

"Would you like to be taken to the waiting room now?" a non-surgical nurse asks.

Thirty minutes pass, and you and Javier are seated in the waiting room, the only occupants at the moment. Purple chairs surround you, and you're on a blue seat cushion against the wall, your attention fixed on the TV opposite. It's a modest 35-inch screen designed to keep you informed about the ongoing surgery. Your son's name is displayed in green, and the message changes from ‘Surgery in progress: Incision and Pocket Creation’ to ‘Surgery in progress: Port Implantation.’

"They're placing the port-disk-chamber thingy inside the incision they made on his chest," Javi says matter-of-factly, pointing at the text.

You turn your head toward him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "'Port-disk-chamber thingy'—is that what the doctor said, Jav?"

He bursts out laughing, placing his right hand over his chest, realizing he was mimicking the tone doctors use when imparting information: authoritative. "Casi me cago del miedo (I almost shitted myself from fear) when the doctor told me step by step what they would do, so I don't remember exactly what he said," he chuckles.

Javier's laugh is contagious, and you can't help but laugh too. Your laughter fuels his, and vice versa. The only thing that interrupts your laughter is when you feel the baby kick.

"Ay, me pateó (oh, he kicked me)," you exclaim happily.

Javi instantly stops laughing too and shifts his hand to rest on your bump. As soon as you feel the weight of his hand on your stomach, your son responds with another kick, right where Javi's palm is placed.

A boyish look crosses your husband's face. He always loves feeling the baby kick, reminiscent of the first time he felt his first son kick.

"¿Hola, mijo, ya te despertaste? (Hi, my boy, have you woken up yet?)" he hums softly.

In response, the baby kicks again.

"He loves your voice so much. I swear he only kicks so you could talk to him. A mi no me quiere, nomas le gusta que le cantes y le leas (He doesn’t love me, he just likes it when you sing and read to him),” you huff out in fake annoyance.

"That's not true. The second-born is always the momma's boy. So the baby loves you the most," Javi says.

"And the youngest loves daddy the most, so no," you refute.

"He won't be the youngest for long," he grins suggestively.

You gasp, “ya me embarazaste, sinverguenza! (You already impregnated me!)"

"But if it was scientifically possible..."

"Shut up," you playfully scold him.

With Javi's hand still over your stomach, your son kicks again, this time much lighter.

"He's upset you told me to shut up," his gaze shifts from looking at you to your stomach as if he could see the baby, and he lowers his voice, “¿verdad, mijo? Dile a tu mami que no sea mala conmigo (right, mijo? Tell your mom to stop being mean to me).”

He looks back up at you, "te acuerdas cuando Ángel hizo eso por primera vez? (Do you remember when Ángel did that for the first time?).”

“Jesus Christ, he scared me, and he made you cry,” you laugh, a smile on your face remembering.

"Oh shit! I forgot to update Jack," you realize and scramble to get your phone. As you start typing to let him know what's going on in the OR, you tell Javi, "By the way, I gave him your phone number."

Javier lets out an unenthusiastic and dry, "Yay."

“Mira (look),” he says while you’re still typing. You look up to where Javi is pointing, and the TV changes to Surgery in progress: Catheter Insertion.

You wince, "They're in his vein now."

"The catheter is the tube that delivers the medicine to his body, right?"

"Yeah," you mumble, typing the next update to Jack.

Javi reaches for one of your hands and rubs soothing circles, “Deja de pensar en eso. Él está bien con ellos (stop thinking about it. He’s safe with them).”

He removes his hand and turns his body to the to-go bag. Javi reaches for the zipper and undoes it. He digs in the back, and you see him pull something out. "Do you need a blanket?" he asks, with a large fuzzy blue blanket in his hand and his soft brown eyes looking at you tenderly. Before you can reply, he places it in your lap and goes back to the bag. Javi fights a little and finally tugs a pillow out of the bag, "a pillow?" he asks with the same puppy eyes.

“I- thank you," you accept both items. You put the pillow behind you so you won't rest your back against the hard and cold wall. You take the blue blanket from your lap and extend it to drape it over the both of you.

"¿Tienes hambre? (are you hungry?)" Javi asks adjusting the blanket.

"Sí"

He goes back to the bag and pulls out some snacks: Goldfish, Chips Ahoy, granola bars, fruit snacks, dry plantain chips, and a pack of assorted nuts.

"Sorry, I don't have any actual food," he looks at what he's offered you and feels guilty at the limited options. Javi gets up quickly, "I can go get you real food. Are you craving anything?"

"Hey," you wrap your fingers around his wrist and grip somewhat tightly. You look up at him and push him to sit back down. "No. I don't want you to leave."

"Okay. I'll stay," he says softly, kissing where your hair and forehead meet.

A knock reverberates in the room, and a nurse comes in. "Hi," she says, closing the door to come closer to you. "Everything went well. There were no complications. They're ready to transfer Ángel to the Post-op room if you guys would like to follow me."

Both of you look relieved at the news, and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

"Thank you," you tell her, and Javi can't get any words out. His eyes are watering, and he tries his best to not let them fall.

He starts hurriedly putting away the snacks, just keeping the bag of nuts, while you fold the blanket back up into the neat roll Javi had it in. After the snacks, blanket, and pillow are in the bag again, Javi helps you get up. You send Jack a quick text informing him that everything went well, and you're on your way to see Ángel. Javi puts the bag over his shoulder, and you both follow the nurse to go see your son.

Next morning - Day 1 of Chemo:

Hey, Jack. Ángel is awake and doing well. He asked about having visitors and hoped you would come see him. We explained that it's not possible right now. He understood but wanted to call. Would you like to FaceTime?

That's great. What’s FaceTime?

It's a video call.

Yes. How do I do that?

Instead of texting him back, you initiate a FaceTime call and hand the phone off to Ángel when it starts to ring.

As soon as Jack accepts the call and his face takes over your screen, Ángel's little face lights up. "Mr. Jack!"

Jack's face mirrors Ángel's: a smile so wide, eyes so soft looking at his son.

"I just started chemotherapy," Ángel blurts out just before Jack greets him.

Jack's heart glows watching his son's face. "How are ya feeling?"

"Mmm... I feel okay. Oh! I got the surgery last night, and look at my chemo port." Your son takes one hand off your phone and pulls his hospital gown just enough to show Jack his port. "Look! You can see the bump of the port under my skin. Eww, it looks gross. It's so cool."

Jack laughs, and that makes Ángel move the phone back to his face.

"Does it hurt?" Jack asks.

"Nope. It was a little bit like... sore when I woke up, but it doesn’t hurt now. I had chemo in the morning, and it pinched for a second, but it's wayyy better than the IV."

"It's not a pain to use the restroom, huh?"

"It's easier and faster to go now," his brows pinch in the middle, "I almost peed myself once 'cus I had to wait for the wires to detangle from the bed." Ángel trails off, tilts his head to the side, and squints. "What do you have behind you? Is that a needle?"

Jack turns his head behind to see what his son saw. He had picked up the prescription he needed to be Ángel's donor from the pharmacy the previous night. Jack opened the box out of curiosity and took out a needle to look at, but then he got caught up texting you in the morning and forgot to put the small vial and needle back in the pharmacy bag.

"Umm... yeah?" Jack says uncertainly, not knowing how to explain it to his son. He doesn't want him to know that he's his donor, at least not yet. "That is some medicine I have to take in two days," Jack says, trying to keep it vague.

When the words come out of Jack's mouth, Ángel's eyes show pure concern, "Oh, are you sick?"

"No, buddy," Jack blurts out immediately, "I'm not sick. I'm just takin' them for... to... Just takin' them to stay healthy. They're like vitamins."

"Maybe I should take some so I could be healthy. What's the name of the medicine?"

Jack's heart drops at his son's words. His mind starts spinning, but he takes a deep breath. He'll be healthy soon, he tries to remind himself. "You can't take this one, buddy. It's for adults."

"Oh," he sounds disappointed, but his voice goes back to normal, "Well, that's okay. I can't take vitamins on chemo either way. I think. Vitamins can affect chemo because of cancer cells, but I don't have any so I don't know. I can ask later. How are the horses?"

Donation Day - Day 7 of Chemo:

Jack sat comfortably in a green chair, his right hand extended over a pillow, squeezing a small blue ball as his blood cycled through the machine. Two hours had passed since he settled into the chair. He arrived at the hospital early in the morning with the last dose of his five-day filgrastim prescription, and for the first time, someone other than him administered the injection. Throughout the morning, he had been texting you, checking in on his son, and, though he wouldn't admit it, checking in on you. Of course, he cared about his son and wanted to know every detail of what he was going through, but this had been the only line of communication he had with you for years, and he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity while you were willing to entertain his conversations. From you, he learned that Ángel's last day of chemo had gone smoothly.

Jack's head spun when he heard a knock against the door. His heart thumped wildly in his chest at the thought of seeing you. When the door opened, a wave of disappointment washed over him. It wasn't you who set foot in the room; it was fucking Javier.

Jack instantly tenses and clears his throat as Javier walks over to him.

"Hi."

Javi crosses his hands over his thick biceps, "How's the donation coming along?"

"It's goin' well. They think in 30 minutes we'll have enough for Ángel," Jack fills Javi in.

"H-how are umm... how are you feeling?" Javi gets the words out, although with much effort. He sounds physically pained asking a simple question to Jack.

"You sound very concerned for my well-being," Jack quips sarcastically.

Not really, Javi wants to say. Instead, he tells Jack, "I’m trying really hard to not hate you.”

It doesn't faze Jack one bit. "Same."

"So just don't do anything to piss me off. More like don't do anything else to piss me off even more," Javi lowers his voice more, "She's my wife; she tells me things. Don't you ever dare call her ‘baby’ again. You're lucky she's not that uncomfortable with ‘sugar’, but if she ever shows one ounce of discomfort, you will stop."

"She never minded all those names before," Jack challenges, glaring at Javi."

Javi smirks, wearing a shit-eating grin as he nonchalantly shrugs. "Yeah, she never did lots of things before me."

Jack is furious. All he sees is red, and just as he begins to rise from his chair to get up, the nurse walks in.

"Oh! A visitor," she exclaims.

"Hello," Javi greets the redheaded nurse in blue scrubs with ducks all over them.

Seeing the nurse enter, Jack comes to his senses and sits back down. Subconsciously, he squeezes the ball so tight in his hands that his knuckles turn white.

"Mr. Daniels, are you okay?" the nurse questions with concern. All she sees is her patient gripping the ball so tightly that his nails are about to rupture through the material. She moves to him and checks his arm to see if there are any signs the needle is causing pain.

Jack's glare tears from Javi and shifts to the nurse. "I'm okay, thank you for checkin’ in on me," he tells her and moves his hand to signal for the nurse to release his arm. "Nothin’ hurts," he smiles up at her.

The nurse understands and checks the progress of the donation. While looking at the machine, she decides to make small talk with her patient and his visitor. "Are you Mr. Daniels' brother?" She turns to ask Javi innocently.

"No," Jack's words drip with disgust.

Javi smiles at how fast Jack denies the nurse's initial thought and says "Not related," under his breath, mumbling, "Thank God."

The nurse doesn't seem to pick up on their animosity and comments, "You two look alike, what a coincidence. Best friends then?"

"No, nothing like that. My wife and I know him, and he's giving our son a gift," Javi says 'our' while looking at Jack.

Suddenly, Ángel crosses their minds, and they both feel some shame for their earlier behavior. They know they can't go on still hating each other because it'll eventually turn into a fight. They just don't know how to set aside their differences.

"I'll call the doctor to get her thoughts, but it looks like we have what we need for the donation," the nurse says, taking note of the blood volume. "In a few hours, one lucky little boy will receive the cells, and he’ll be one step closer to being healthy."

After Jack was hooked up to the machine for two and a half hours, the staff deemed the collection enough and sent the blood bag to the lab to confirm that Jack’s procedure had collected enough stem cells. Four hours later, it was confirmed that there were the desired amount of stem cells, and the team took the cells to Ángel’s room. Due to your son being immunocompromised, he isn't allowed to have visitors other than legal guardians. So, you and Javi update Jack on the transplant.

Day 11 post-transplant:

Remember how I told you he started grafting on the tenth day?

Yes! How his body was accepting the stem cells, and the cells were growing and making new cells.

Mhm. Well, if everything keeps going at the speed it’s been going, Ángel gets to go home in four days!!

Oh, wow! It’s just day 11 after the transplant, and the doctors estimated it wouldn't happen until closer to day 25! Can I go see him then? I know I was cleared to go five days ago, but because I wasn’t feeling well, I didn’t go. My fever’s still here, but I’ll continue to monitor myself.

Sure! You need to be cleared of a fever for 24 hours and have absolutely NO symptoms.

You have my word, sugar.

Day 14 post-transplant:

You're packing all of Ángel's belongings to take home. It's been 14 days since your son's transplant, and he's cleared to go home. You don't know who's happier— you, your husband, or your son. But that doesn't really matter; all that matters is that your family is together. Just as you're collecting your son's toys and getting them ready to shove into the white personal belongings bag, someone knocks on the door. Javi stops placing Ángel's books into a box and hurriedly opens the door. He was expecting the doctor to come in with discharge papers, but it was Jack waiting on the other side.

"Oh, right, you said you'd stop by," Javi remembered.

When you saw Jack standing there not quite stepping inside the room with a red gift bag, you gasped. "Sorry, we forgot you were going to stop by." You turned your neck and saw Ángel reading the book Jack had gifted him, One Hundred Fun Facts About Horses.

"Come in," you usher Jack in. "Mijo," you call, and Ángel looks up from the book he's got his nose buried in.

"Mr. Jack!" Ángel's face lights up like a Christmas tree. He pats a spot in his bed as he tells Jack to sit down next to him. "I want to show you something," Ángel puts the book aside and lowers his shirt to show Jack that the port is gone. "They took my port out!"

Jack almost reaches out and touches his son's scar but settles for examining it with his eyes. "Are you sore?"

"Not really. I'm just excited to go to my house. Did my mom tell you I'm leaving the hospital today?"

"Yeah," Jack chuckles, "she mentioned it. And here I brought you this," he lifts the gift bag onto the bed.

Ángel tears it open and begins to pull the items out. The first gift he reaches is a book, Her Right Foot. "Oh, my God!"

You see the title and direct your question to Jack, "He's wanted that book for a while, how did you know?"

"Really?" Jack's smiling ear to ear. "I just went to the bookstore and thought he'd like that one." His heart feels like it could rip right through his chest because he feels like he knows his son. Jack had browsed many children's books and read the synopsis of every last book. The one he had purchased was the one he felt his son would love, the book his son is currently holding, and Jack was right.

The little boy takes out the next item, which is a box. "A Lego set!" Ángel flips the black box to the front, and he sees that this particular set is one of horses. The horse in the center looked similar to Andor, one of Jack's horses his son loved the most. "Is this an Andalusian?" Ángel looks to Jack, his eyes sparkling."

Jack nods his head, "It is, buddy. It's like a mini Andor."

Ángel seems pleased with Jack's answer and moves on to the last gift. It was another box, but this one was a shoebox. The little boy lifted the top off, and he was met with boots—dark brown leather boots with beautiful and intricate stitching all throughout.

“Is that a longhorn?” Ángel points at the center of the boots. He doesn’t wait for an answer before speaking again, “My grandpa has longhorns on his ranch. Do you have them on your ranch, Mr. Daniels?”

"I don’t have any longhorns, but umm... I have the same boots," Jack looks down at the floor like he’s suddenly interested in the simple pattern of the hospital floor. He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but when his son's sweet voice reached his ears, Jack looked up.

"You do?" Ángel was beaming, a smile brighter than the sun. He leaps to move sideways so his legs would hang from the bed. He took his left boot and put it on his baby blue non-slip sock-clothed feet and did the same for the right boot. When both boots are on, he pinches the tip to feel where his toes are. Ángel drops to the floor and begins to walk, showing all three of you his new footwear.

"How did you get his shoe size?" You're amazed at how they seem to fit perfectly.

"I asked him," Jack nods his head towards your husband, who is smiling broadly, showing his perfect teeth. Javi squats down to Ángel's level and presses his fingers on his son's boot toe box to feel if they're pinching Ángel's feet. "Perfect fit," Javi smiles up at his son, dimple on display, still on the floor.

Once Javi's hands are removed from Ángel's boots, he runs to Jack, "Thank you so much, Mr. Jack," he says, jumping up and down. Ángel runs back to Javi, who is now standing up straight, "¡Papi, quiero una foto! (Daddy, I want a picture!)" Javi complies and takes out his phone from his back pocket.

You turn to Jack, and your voice falls to a whisper, "We're hosting a dinner in a few nights to celebrate Ángel coming home, and we'd love it if you'd join us."

Jack's head reels at the prospect of seeing you and Ángel in a few days, but beneath that excitement, there is fear, "Is your family going to be there?" he asks.

"Yes, and Javi's too."

"It's your family I'm worried about," he confesses, looking into your eyes.

You take in the way his face pales slightly, his eyes widen, and his eyebrows shoot near his hairline. "No. You're more than worried; you look genuinely scared, but you'll be fine."

"'Course I'll be there, Sugar," he says, looking at his son laughing while Javi takes his pictures. If Ángel was a happy and giddy boy before the transplant, Jack now sees how his innocence is amplified now that he's healthy, and Jack can't wait to see more of his son's childhood joy outside the hospital.

"Hey, can I talk with you alone before you leave?" Jack asks you, hoping you'll agree.

"Um, yeah, we can go outside," you agree, noting his urgent tone.

"Javi, Ángel, I'll be back soon. I'm just going to walk Jack out," you say, moving to the door with Jack on your heels.

"Okay, we'll keep packing, amor," Javi tells you, brushing his hand with yours. You lean into your husband for a while until Ángel and Jack say their goodbyes, promising they'll see each other at the dinner.

You and Jack exit the room, and you take him to a little corner further down the hall.

"What did you want to discuss?" you ask resting your back on the wall with brown and cream diamond wallpaper.

Jack's nervous to tell you what he wants: a father-and-son relationship with Ángel. You two never went into detail on how you would tell Ángel the truth about Jack and he's terrified of asking you for something this big so soon after a big weight of stress has been lifted off you.

"Jack?"

"Sorry," he clears his throat, "I wanted to talk to you about telling Ángel that I'm his dad- biological."

"Oh," you sound surprised. "Yeah. We didn't really discuss that, did we? I haven't thought about it in so long, I'm sorry. Maybe we can get some pointers from Ángels counselor?" You suggest. "Javi and I thought about making an appointment with a child therapist because of this entire hospital stay. We were hoping to get your opinion on that actually."

It's Jack's turn to be surprised. "I think that's wonderful, Sugar. Thank you for including me in the decision."

"Of course. I think it would be great if we could get the counselor's opinion on how to best handle the situation. And we too can figure out how this new dynamic would work. For example, medical decisions moving forward. We'll tell Ángel about you and I have no doubt he'll want to have the relationship you want to have with him. We can talk more about the appointment in a few days. We haven't set an exact date for the dinner but it will probably be this upcoming Sunday."

"I'll clear out my entire schedule," Jack says sincerely

"We'll have food for you that won't send you into a choking fit," you tease.

Jack covers his eyes with his hands, "God, 'M so sorry."

You laugh at his embarrassment, "No, it's okay. I understand the food we serve can take some getting used to." You continue to tell him about the plans for the dinner that is slowly turning into a party and he just stares at you while you keep talking he gets lost in the moment. He thinks about your laugh and the consideration you still have for him and suddenly Jack blurts out, “I love you."

The smile you had vanishes.

“Jack,” you warn dangerously. “We were doing so good, Jack.” You don't want to—can't see him now, so you close your eyes. The words only needed to be said once for them to threaten tears to spill. "How dare you say those words to me now?” You hiss, your tone now angry but more than anything, filled with frustration and pain. You thought you could handle seeing him, so you open your eyes. "What do you expect me to do with that? I won’t leave Javi if that’s what you’re hoping for.

"S-" Jack opens his mouth, but you cut him off immediately. "No, Jack, let me speak."

"Once, those three words would have made me the happiest person in the world, but now? They’re only causing pain,” you pause, exhaling a shaky breath. “You humiliated me, Jack. Time and time again. Even if I didn’t have Javi, I wouldn’t go back to you.” You sound defeated, your voice carrying the pain of past wounds, and it crushes you to keep thinking about the past.

“I did love you, through everything,” Jack whispers, his eyes searching yours. They are watery and dazed.

“I think…” you run your tongue over your lips and then purse them, “I think you loved me in your own way. But that’s not how I wanted to be loved. During our engagement, and more so during our marriage, I never really felt loved by you. Can you blame me for that if I can count with my fingers the amount of 'I love yous' you gave me?” Your words are like shards of glass, cutting through the air with the sharpness of your pain.

“When you did show me your love, I was so happy, Jack. So happy that I thought, hoped, you would give me more love, so I stayed with you. I longed for the morning you woke up and things would be different, better. Because that’s exactly what happened. You woke up after the night of our engagement, and you were a completely different person, and I couldn't comprehend what I did wrong. I was willing to stay with you forever for the odd chance one day you would feel for me how I felt for you.”

“And I stayed because I always hoped you would go back to your old self. Sometimes there were indications that you were going to become the old Jack. Well, I don’t know if I fooled myself, but sometimes I thought you were happy. Like right before I told you I was pregnant, you had this smile on your face….” Your voice trembles with the weight of those memories.

“Other times I genuinely thought you hated me, and then I thought that’s not possible. ‘Why would he ask me to marry him if he couldn’t stand me?’”

“Did you always think that?” He sounds sad, a quiet plea for understanding. But your heart, scarred by the past, struggles to find solace in his remorseful gaze.

“Yeah. When… when we were together, it was rare you would look at me in my face. The majority of times you had me face down. How do you think that made me feel? You made me feel used and disposable.”

“I wanted to be loved by you," you continue, your tone a mix of vulnerability and strength, "and you always made me feel like I was the other woman. Then I decided I should stop trying and let you go.”

“What changed?” Jack's question hangs in the air. Everything you’ve revealed up to this point has felt like glass shards embedded in his heart. He knows you still have a lot left to say, and it will continue to hurt him, but he owes it to you to hear everything you went through.

“I was at a park one day after you didn’t come home," you recall, emotion tinging your words. "I came across this older man, and he showed me pictures of his family. When he talked about his wife…” you pause, emotion catching up with you. “It was beautiful. And I realized that would never be you. You wouldn’t talk about me that way. Since that day, I took off my rose-colored lenses and thought everything through."

"I thought about your behavior but also about mine. I hated who I was because it sounds ridiculous, but I was jealous of someone who wasn't here anymore. And I swear I never wanted to replace her or erase her from your life, I just wanted you to love me too. I loved you so much; I would've settled for half the love you had for Allison, but you couldn't even give me that. I never told you you couldn't love or mourn Allison. She was your wife, I get that... but I was your wife too, and knowing you would never love me like you did her was slowly killing me.”

"I thought about one night, which I don't know if you remember," you confess, the vulnerability in your voice palpable. "But one night on her birthday, you got extremely drunk, and you kept slurring your words. I couldn't understand half of what you were saying, but I heard loud and clear when you yelled at me that you didn’t choose to stop loving her; you were forced to. And you said that you would’ve never looked at me otherwise. That you wish she came back and I disappeared… That we s- switched places,” you confess, exposing the scars engraved into your heart, and the pain of that night that is still etched in your memory—a wound that refused to fully heal. You were surprised that you weren't sobbing, because the night he told you those words, you felt your world had ended.

Jack was appalled, his face reflecting the shock and guilt that surged through him as he listened to your words. The heaviness of the past, the pain inflicted, all rushed back to him as a floodgate of memories suddenly opened, each carrying the weight of its own hurt.

"I always felt I was the third person in our marriage. You made me feel things I hated, and maybe even worse, I became someone I didn't recognize. After that day in the park, I was going to ask you for a divorce because I didn't want to be the person you settled for… then I found out I was pregnant. I wanted to give us one last try, and well, you remember what happened after I told you the news,” you say, the bitterness of the past lingering in your words.

"You kept hurting me, and you're smart, Jack. Did you not think I would leave you?"

Jack exhales, the reminder of his own mistakes heavy on him. "I think I couldn’t let ya go, so a part of me hoped you would leave me if I treated you horribly. Every day I fought with myself to treat you like you deserve, but I wasn’t strong enough to open up to you."

The silence lingers, and Jack takes the opportunity to share a piece of his truth. "The night after I proposed, I had a dream about Allison. She told me I was replacing her, and I dunno, instead of working out through my issues, I took it out on ya.”

“Over a dream? You... you let our relationship go to waste because of a dream,” you say, a mix of disbelief and frustration in your voice. You want to be angry at him because such a trivial thing ruined the chance of happiness, but then you put yourself in his shoes. "Oh, Jack," you add, this time with a tone of understanding and sadness.

“Have you been to therapy?” you ask him, your tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Yeah…” Jack admits with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

“Can I be honest?” you tilt your head, your fingers playing with the collar of your shirt.

He nods.

“I don’t think it helped.”

Jack smiles, a sheepish expression on his face, “If we’re being honest, I went in for two sessions and never saw my shrink again.”

“Well, your therapist probably knew what they were doing,” you playfully scold, but then your voice softens, "Please see a therapist so Ángel can get to know the best version of you. When I knew that Jack, he was amazing, and that's the man I want my son to know."

A sad smile greets Jack's face, "Yes, Sugar."

There's another thing you've always been curious to know but never had the stomach to ask, and this seems to be your window. "Can I ask, did you, um, did you ever sleep with someone else while we were married?"

"God no," the words tumble out of his mouth.

"Well, that's something, I guess," you say, a sense of relief evident in your voice.

"I'm really sorry about everything, sweetheart. I can't believe I ever hurt you. I just miss you so much. I’ve never regretted anything in my life as much as I do not telling you I loved you when we had a chance," Jack confesses, the weight of regret heavy in his words.

"It’s okay, Jack. I’m not your wife anymore, but we had some good times. Sometimes love doesn’t work out how we thought,” you tell Jack, your gaze turning when you hear footsteps that are familiar to you.

And Jack would forever kick himself for driving you away and not accepting your love. The only piece of solace is that Ángel will have a happy and full life, and you finally got the love you deserved and dreamed of.

Javi starts calling your name, and you answer him so he can walk over to where you are. Once Javi comes into view, he tells you that Ángel’s been discharged and that they're ready to go home.

Jack looks at you once more, his gaze lingering, as if trying to capture every detail to hold onto. He sees the love in your eyes for your husband, a love he once had the chance to cherish but let slip away. It hurts, but at the mention of his son, it gives him the slightest glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he has learned from his mistakes, and he'll find a way to be a part of your lives, even if it's not in the way he once dreamed. The love of his life and his son are happy and healthy, and that will have to be enough for him.

"Bye, Jack. I'll let you know what time we're having the dinner," you say, while Javi wraps his arms around you—a protective gesture that Jack once held the privilege of doing, but did so sparingly.

"Take care," Javi tells Jack over his shoulder, his voice firm but not unkind. He then leads you to Ángel's room, leaving Jack standing alone in the corridor, grappling with the ache of what could have been.

You both start heading down the hallway, and Javi pauses halfway. His eyes search yours, concern written all over his features.

"Are you okay?"

"I am now," you lean into him and smile. "Jack and I were talking about when we were married," you begin, and Javi tenses involuntarily.

"Hey, no, you don’t have anything to worry about," you reassure him, cupping his face with both of your hands. "Our talk was more about what went wrong, and the bottom line was that I‘m okay with the fact that he wasn’t the one for me."

Javi takes a deep breath, visibly trying to control the surge of emotions within him. "It’s just- me cae mal ese - (I don’t like that-)” You can't help but chuckle lightly at your husband's choice of words.

"As stupid as it sounds, I wanted to make it work when we were married. I saw it in his eyes, I felt it in his words and actions; he didn’t love me, and I couldn’t stay in a marriage like that. I wanted a life with him... It didn't work out, and it's okay. Everything I dreamed of having, I found it with you. I'm the happiest I've ever been at your side. You’re the love of my life and I love being your wife, don't ever doubt that, okay?" Since the beginning of your relationship, you always repeated your love to Javier, not because he was insecure, but because you knew how it felt to be second place, second best, a consolation prize, and you never wanted Javier to think that you settled for him after Jack.

"Say it again," Javi requests, a genuine smile softening his features as he looks down at you.

"What?"

“That you’re my wife," Jack wants you to repeat the words that make his heart flutter.

“I’m your wife," you say.

Javi, still reveling in the warmth of the words, spins his finger in a playful circle, silently requesting you to say the words again.

“I’m your wife," you repeat, the pride evident in your tone. You take Javi's hand and begin walking to your son’s room.

"Again," Javi insists, stopping you in your tracks.

“I’m your wife.”

“Otra vez," he requests, this time in Spanish.

You comply, “Soy tu esposa," you tell him and drag him further down the hall to your son's room.

When Javi playfully asks you to say it once more, this time it's you who stops. “Por dios, Javi, ¿en cuántos lenguajes quieres que te lo diga? (My God, Javi, how many languages do you want me to say it in?)” you feign annoyance.

He shrugs, answering with a mischievous grin, “En todos (in all of them).”

Amused, you grab him by the collar of his blue button-down shirt and bring him to a level where you can whisper into his ear, “Ay, Jav, apenas y hablas español (Oh, Jav, you barely speak Spanish).” You kiss his cheek and pull back, leaving him slightly offended but oddly proud. He had hoped for a different outcome when he saw you pull him down; the glint in your eyes made him believe you were going to kiss him on the lips. But, to his dismay, you chose to tease him instead.

"Take it back!" he demands as you stand right outside the door.

“Si lo dices en español (if you say it in Spanish),” you tease with a grin. Javier contemplates for a moment, and in the brief silence, Ángel's laughter and Dr. Navarro's voice echo from inside the room.

"Please?" Javi implores, wanting to savor one more of those heart-skipping phrases before joining his son. Unable to resist his pleading eyes any longer and mindful of the precious moments with Ángel, you relent.

“I’m your wife.”

END

Extended Note: The end! Thank you, everyone, for your kindness throughout the series. I truly appreciate every interaction 🥹.

As for my departure, I'm unsure whether I should deactivate my account or just private my writing. There's one post I received only positive comments on, especially from people with SPD who found it relatable. Apparently, there's a shortage of such stories, so I'm conflicted. Hopefully, I'll have a definitive decision next week.

I'm planning to post the Din story next Thursday; it's just one part, a sex pollen with Virgin!Din, titled 'Paleta.' I'm a fan of El Alfa, and I recently discovered that a song in his new album was sampled from the one I used for the Din story. It got me thinking about what I had written, and I wanted to share it with y’all before I bow out.

Thank you for reading 🫶🏽!

Taglist: @kchavez666 @ttupelohoneyy @mishasminion360 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @stileslvr @pedrostories

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soupdots · 1 year ago

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Hey, I haven’t posted on here in a while, but! I read Azula in the Spirit Temple (finally) and I wanted to give my thoughts on it.

Overall rating, 7.5/10

Things I liked:

• These two panels:

I love how her humanity is shown in both of them. I don’t know if we’ve EVER seen Azula given the humanity shown in the second panel— fear, specifically trauma-motivated fear (and a traumatic experience not frequently discussed, her institutionalization). It’s significant because she’s showing fear without anger, which is rare for her. And I was blown away by the first panel. I didn’t expect them to be so explicit about it. It’s almost too explicit, but honestly, it’s needed (because people clearly don’t pick up on subtext). It made me very happy to see what we’ve all been saying stated outright and in canon. These two panels pushed the comic up from more of a 6/10.

• I liked the idea of spirits and avatars (no pun intended) of Azula’s past friends and family talking to her (This is something that’s planned for my fic, if I ever get that off the ground again). It allows Azula to directly confront what has been done to her and what she has done, which is important for a redemption arc. It also allows for some healing, because she’s able to talk to those who hurt her.

• Azula is not given a quick redemption arc in 80 pages. Thank god. While of course she deserves a redemption arc, a rushed Kuvira-style redemption arc would be awful.

• I like that, true to her classic hair symbolism, Azula has her hair down throughout her time in the temple but puts it back up when she goes back to meet her Fire Warriors.

• She looks like a child in most of the frames. It’s good.

• This may have been unintentional, but I like that it’s Zuko who yells at her about how she’s hurt everybody, she’s a monster etc; then he turns into something of a monster himself. This shows that Zuko has hurt her, that he’s not perfect.

• I think the writing in general was better than past comics (definitely better than Yang’s writing) and it bodes well for the future. I think, all things considered, Faith Hicks did a remarkable job with the barely salvageable remnants of Azula’s character.

Things I didn’t like:

• Azula is still hung up on her “rightful place on the throne!” She never showed any real desire for the throne in the show, and yet for some reason that has become a key piece of her identity. It really doesn’t make sense. Also, didn’t she drop that in S&S? She is still seeking to destabilize Zuko in AITST, but appears to also have regained the desire for the throne. It’s confusing and weird.

• I think Azula could’ve been shown being a little nicer to her ‘Fire Warriors,’ given that she doesn’t have the same pressure to keep them by her side as she did with Mai & Ty Lee, but it’s fair that she’s not. In S&S she’s a pretty terrible person and takes several steps back in her redemption arc (several extremely OOC steps), and while I want to forget the Yang comics ever existed, Hicks still has to adhere to them and that means not suddenly making Azula a lot more chill.

• It felt rushed, but of course it did, it’s 80 pages long. Still this did affect the satisfaction I got from it.

• Azula ought to have been more distressed when she found out that her friends left her given that that’s literally her biggest wound. However I also kind of like that she wasn’t, especially at the end, because it hints that she’s getting tired of the whole friendship through manipulation thing.

• I wish Azula had gotten to talk to the spirit in its monk form a little bit; we could’ve had an Iroh moment for her which would’ve been cool to see.

• In general Azula’s character has really been through the ringer so it’s hard to get anything good out of it, but again I’m impressed at what Hicks has been able to pull off. Still, it felt kind of unsatisfying that at the end of the comic Azula said that she would “find new followers, a new place to rule,” which is like, oh okay, so you kinda haven’t really learned anything? It would be nice to at least get a bit of an idea that she’s on a path towards redemption and healing.

Again, overall, 7.5/10, I really enjoyed this, honestly. There were some parts that made me roll my eyes but ultimately I was surprised at the amount of kindness given to Azula (not a lot, but more than usual). I’m thankful to Faith Erin Hicks & the rest of her team for doing the best they can with our girl. I hope this means she’ll get more good content in the future.

#atla #azula #avatar the last airbender #azula in the spirit temple

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cutestkilla · 1 year ago

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An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thanks for tagging me @theearlgreymage @wellbelesbian @shrekgogurt @orange-peony @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @youarenevertooold and @thewholelemon!

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

The only WIP I’m really actively working on right now is Hiding Out in the Open.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Psychology Podcast Hidden Brain + AU where Simon and Baz never got together but Simon still lost his magic and got spelled by Smith = Non-linear AWTWB-era Baz negging Simon with podcast links but actually secretly being sweet the whole time until they’re having real conversations and like, excavating some trauma until Simon figures himself out (or does he?) (He does, I’m not a monster.)

(I needed more terms for this equation, a few higher powers maybe.)

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

Well, so far I’ve warned for anxiety/panic attacks, implied/referenced child abuse, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of eating bugs, AND mentions of animal cruelty. SOUNDS FUN RIGHT?

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

So this fic is titled after a Feist song. The alternate title was a combination of a Ron Sexmith song that Feist did a great cover of and the name of the fictional podcast in my story:

Secret Heart, Invisible Mind

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?

Oh, it’ll be this one for sure! I have nothing else even approaching any kind of written state.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Well, it’s just titled after the fic. But before I had a title and was just dreaming things up, I had a doc titled “Hidden Brainstorms”. There’s also a doc in the folder for this titled “Enemies Closer” that’s filled with research I did for an episode I have to invent…

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

“You stood him up? What the hell Basil? I cancelled my plans for this.”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

Okay so I am an idea hoarder, I rarely fully scrap an idea until I’m done writing a story, I just park them all in a dumping ground at the end of my doc for ongoing review. But one for sure scrapped idea I had for this back in the start was that Shep would co-host a podcast at some point in this story.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Welllllllll, I may have an entire (shared) Trello board for a fic that @artsyunderstudy and I have been excitedly talking about co-writing. I won't say much but it’s a Canonverse AU, featuring older strangers-to-lovers Snowbaz, and it’s a ghost story. Your basic SPOOKY SEXY SAD CATHARSIS type of deal.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

Actively? One. Two if you count the Trello board which I periodically add ideas to. Three if you count the Wedding fic draft I have 20K written for and could start writing on again at ANY MOMENT.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Well, I’m about to be struggling with writing the scene where Baz listens to the podcast episode I have to completely invent. I have a full first rough pass at this chapter done, except that part where I just copy pasted a bunch of research notes to come back to…

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

🙏YOU get a kudos, and YOU get a kudos, and YOU get a kudos!

Tags in case you wanna: @artsyunderstudy @hushed-chorus @ivelovedhimthroughworse @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @fatalfangirl @facewithoutheart @skeedelvee @emeryhall @mooncello @monbons @angelsfalling16 @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @run-for-chamo-miles @brilla-brilla-estrellita @best--dress @onepintobean @martsonmars @messofthejess @ileadacharmedlife @urban-sith

#tag game #writer asks #carry on #hiding out in the open #my writing #sort of #i even procrastinated procrastinating tbh

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brainrotheartrot · 5 months ago

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hi hi yes hello,, first off i just wanna say i LOVE your art.

second, this is kinda weird but i just joined the arcane fandom not too long ago, & it was literally only because i saw vijinx art. like all of my mutuals are into arcane & i never bothered to get into it UNTIL i saw fanart of vijinx a few months ago. something abt it just intrigued me. i honestly never cared for caitvi.

however i wouldn’t consider myself a pro shipper, in fact i’d deny that. this is the first time i’ve enjoyed anything like this & i have no idea why. however i do like hardcore dynamics, for example, ellie/abby from tlou. but of course something like vi/jinx is more “extreme”. well in my opinion.

i’m coming to you because i’ve been stalking a lot of vijinx shippers and i really admire their content, especially yours. it’s such a guilty pleasure of mine. but i’m too scared to interact with anyone, even on an alt. so i just decided to stay anonymous.

i was just wondering if you ever felt guilty the first time you started shipping them? i’d honestly envy you if you haven’t. and how & why did you start shipping them? feel free to rant abt them for as long as you’d like.

i’ve been hearing stuff abt how they weren’t always sisters, like in the early league days. i wish it just stayed that way because it bothers me to not be able to talk abt my favorite ships publicly without being ridiculed for it. but a fucked up part of me is glad that they became sisters. holds more weight, you know. i understand the appeal entirely.

i’ve also even been secretly drawing them but i definitely do not have the balls to post them anywhere😭

ANYWAY, i’m yapping, but just let me know anything about your experience with them, how you view them n stuff. and if you have any advice to give me or any other information pls feel free. thank u so much

ps. i’m totally reading ur fic in a bit

Aww, hey there anon! Thanks for reaching out, always nice to meet another ViJinx fan :) I'm glad you enjoy my art, and I hope you'll like my fic as well! (Also, if you'd like to send me your art privately, I totally promise not to show anybody. <3)

I got a little rambly in my answer there, so I'll put it under the cut.

Honestly, I only call myself a 'proshipper' because this is what modern fandom lingo dictates. I don't really gel with a lot of elements of 'proshipdom', if you will -- there seems to be some broad agreement that if you like Some messed up aspects in your fiction, you must like All of them. And I really don't! I ship ViJinx because I love their specific dynamic, not just because I'm hot for every taboo topic by default. I probably would've shipped them just as much if the show had just made them close childhood friends, for example. But I also have no issue with fictional incest ships, I think they can be fun and juicy.

Like you, I've always been really drawn to problematic and intense lesbian relationships. I like CaitVi plenty, and I think they're going to get a lot messier in S2, which I'm excited for. But ViJinx is just an insanely compelling dynamic. I love the toxic codependent yuri shit. I love the tenderness and the violence, their shared past that now feels completely inaccessible to them both, Jinx's obsessiveness, Vi refusing to give up the image of Powder she's clung on to for years... man, this shit just rocks, okay. I'm not gonna pretend that it doesn't.

I've never felt any guilt about shipping ViJinx, tbh. I'm a fandom oldbie, by which I mean I was around before the morality police took over, and everyone understood we were just here to mash Barbies and have a good time. I've shipped several incest pairings before this, and I've always had a blast doing it. And so help me god, I don't intend to stop now, even if my Twitter blocklist is twenty miles long. I just immediately cut out anyone who tries to start shit, and chill with my fellow weirdos. It's a pretty small circle, but it's a nice time!

If you do decide to make an alt at some point, I recommend doing so on Twitter, as I've been able to find more active ViJinx shippers there. I could rec you some nice people to follow. :) Thanks for reaching out!

#messages

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creativecuteness · 5 months ago

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One of a Kind Vamp Chapter 5: I Just Want your Heart

Summary: A zombie apocalypse is the last thing the gang expected, also living in a sami-abandoned Walmart wasn't their plan either. But they made do with what they had while trying to find a cure. However, like all great survival stories they didn't get where they are without scarifies. (Inspired by a dream I had years ago)

Auther Notes: Well, here we are this is the last chapter I wrote for Rory week and man is the chapter a beast. Like this is the longest chapter I've written so far. So, um I wanted to post this yesterday, but I wanted to proofread it one more time before editing and posting it. I know it's late and I wanted to post the second chapter of Whitechapel Adventures Remastered yesterday instead however that chapter needs more time as well. So, while this is a little late, enjoy the last written chapter of this story for the time being.

“Hey, Rory?”

“Yeah.” Rory tore his attention from the window, looking at his little lover. It was a calm rainy day in Whitechapel, which was becoming a rarity at this point, from dealing with evil trees trying to suck the souls out of humans, encountering a weredog, to meeting Doug Falconhawk?! Yeah, things have been pretty insane around here, though aside from getting the Scare Finder cancelled, it has been a quiet month. Which was odd; Rory expected more from these previous weeks, aside from Benny turning Ethan into a werewolf and him being possessed by a freaking tree. It made him wonder: What will they deal with next?

Speaking of which, “Do you ever wonder what supernatural issue we’ll deal with next?" Dakota questioned, staring at him with those lovesick eyes,

The boy beside her shrugged, shifting his position on the window seat. “Honestly, I’ve got no idea; we’ve been dealing with the supernatural since the school year began. Plus, we; well, more like you faced off against a werewolf, Ethan, how can anything top that?”

“Well, what about zombies? We haven’t dealt with that yet.” She smirked,

Rory hummed, finding the idea of a zombie apocalypse kind of exciting. At least he won’t need to worry about school. “Yeah, I kind of like the idea of that. It’d be pretty cool to beat up some more undead creatures.” He smiled, but slowly fell once he remembered a scary side effect: “Well, I guess the real drawback is the fact the infection is spread through biting. If one of us got bit, we’d be doomed.”

“Yeah, Ethan and Benny are the brains of the operation.” She giggled, “No pun intended; if either of them became zombies, I don’t know what we’d do without them.”

Rory nodded, putting his arm around his best friend. “It’s a good thing we’ll never have to worry about that; even I admit zombies in Whitechapel feels impossible even for this town’s standards.”

Dakota giggled, feeling reassured by her friend’s attempt at comforting her. “Theoretically, if a zombie apocalypse were to happen, you’d be there to protect me, right? Even if the going gets tough.”

Her friend nodded and pulled her close. “Of course, we’ve known each other way too long for me to abandon you now.”

Dakota held Rory tightly; she felt safe, warm, and loved. She’s only known Rory for a few months, but the bond the two shared made it feel like she’d known him all her life. Being by his side felt right; even though his body temperature fell after becoming a vampire, she still felt so warm. Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Cold Why did she feel so cold?

Dakota opened her eyes to find herself no longer in her room but in a dark, freezing hallway. She looked around, calling out for anyone who may be there, but no reply came. The young girl closed her eyes and tried to level her breathing; she felt around for her best friend’s hand, and her eyes snapped open. Rory wasn’t with her; she was completely alone now; she was really starting to panic.

“Rory? Rory?!” No reply,

Dakota didn’t waste any time trying to find her vampire bestie, rushing down the hallway on shaky legs. Dakota tried to locate her friends all the while an omnipresent fear pressed down on her chest; she couldn’t explain why, but the darkness created a paralyzing fear that seemed to get worse the deeper she went. She desperately tried to keep it together, but the confusion and worry she felt made it difficult. Where were her friends? Where were Ethan and Benny, Sarah, or Erica? And where was her group? She prayed they were safe.

In her rush, she nearly missed a shadow standing at a dead end, a flicking light outlining their silhouette. Slowly and timidly, Dakota walked towards the figure, hoping it was someone she knew.

“Ethan? Benny? Sarah? Erica? ... Rory?” She muttered quietly to herself, “Hey, are you okay?” She placed a hand on the figure's shoulder; they spun around and lunged at her. Dakota yelped, pulling her hand away, and dodged the incoming attack.

“Brains.” It moaned, slowly coming out of hiding; their slowness was actually what made them scarier.

“R-Rory?” Dakota recognized her heart sinking to her chest.

Her former friend didn’t look so well; his skin seemed pale and rotting simultaneously. His hair was unkempt and sticking up in all directions, his clothes were ripped and tattered. Dakota didn’t know what could’ve happened to her best friend, but she wasn’t sticking around to find out. A zombie vampire was not something she wanted to fight, let alone lose against. So, she turned and ran only looking behind to see her friend giving chase; her heart beat spiked as she struggled to outrun him.

Soon, more zombies came out of the shadows, trying to grab her. Dakota tried to fight them off but soon realized there were too many, so she retreated, trying to find an exit to escape this nightmare, but to no avail. Familiar faces stopped her at every turn forcing her deeper into this dark labyrinth that seemed to be getting darker as she went on. Everywhere she went, the hoard of zombies was at her heels, just mere itches away from grabbing and devouring her. She could feel herself slowing down; her chest hurt as she gasped for breath, but she couldn’t afford to falter now; if she did, her fate would be sealed; she would be nothing but a pale of bones in this nightmarish hellscape.

Sadly, any hope she had for escape was shattered as she found herself in a dead end. She turned around and saw no chance of escaping the hoard of zombies who were closing in. They crowded around her, forcing her further into the corner. She prayed for someone anyone to rescue her, but she knew deep inside no one would ever find her. She spared one last tearful glance at Rory, wanting to remember him for who he was, before he lunged and bit down hard with his sharp fangs, and she screamed she screamed with all her might as the darkness consumed her.

Dakota gasped awake, her breathing rapid and erratic. She felt around her body for bite marks, and when she couldn’t find any, she realized where she was.

“Oh, it was just another nightmare.” She sighed, rubbing a hand through her damp hair. She looked around the makeshift bedroom and got out of bed. It’s been about three months since the outbreak. It was hard to believe a zombie outbreak could happen in Whitechapel, but in all seriousness, they should have seen it coming. Latta Latte, a freaking coffee shop, was ground zero for the infection. From what Esamanda, Lizzy, and Sarah were able to discover, the cause was a gallon of Chicken De-brainer that was meant to be delivered to McFingers. Whoever was in charge didn’t notice the blue jug delivered to them wasn’t their usual order of water but was filled with dangerous chemicals. When ingested, the victim would slowly become braindead, creating a zombie mentality; thankfully, the outbreak didn’t spread to the rest of the world and has been contained.

Shortly after the breakout, the fang gang, along with Dakota’s group, rounded up the infected and trapped them in a Walmart. A weird choice, they know, but it was all they could do in such short notice. For all things considered, they were lucky the store was so well stocked and was still getting deliveries to this day; granted, they still needed to avoid the infected while unloading everything, but it was manageable, or at least it used to be.

“Morning everyone.” Dakota greeted, giving a tired wave.

“Morning.” They replied, varying levels of disinterest in their tone. But she didn’t blame them; it’s been a rough few weeks.

The main base of operation was an employee breakroom that had a connected storage room, which was magically expanded to become their bedrooms. Around the table were Emily, Ethan, and Erica. Jane and Chloe were on the floor playing with dolls. Sadly, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan were among those infected, and Ethan couldn’t bring himself to leave her with Mrs. Weir, who offered to take care of her for the time being; however, Ethan refused, knowing Jane was his responsibility.

Amy was in another room trying to concoct a cure; a lot of sleepless nights were spent trying to find a way to return everything to normal. But it was worth it; it’s not like the infection came from a mutated virus from a movie; they were pretty sure the side effects were curable, Amy included.

The remainder of the group were doing various things both inside and outside the base. Esamanda and Lizzy were searching the town for signs of damage and other zombies that may have slipped their grasp. Cindy organized the gathered supply and was the closest thing to a nurse the gang had. And Mabel was trying her hardest to provide moral support and repair any clothes that were ripped during their escapades.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Dakota asked, trying to sound cheerful,

“We need more supplies.” Sarah spoke simply, stirring a pot of oatmeal. Thank God they weren’t dealing with an actual apocalypse, or else certain supplies would be harder to come by. “Emily, I believe it’s your turn?”

“I’ll go.” Dakota offered, and silence filled the room as everyone froze. It’s not like they didn’t have faith in the young teen; Dakota was just as capable as everyone else; however, they couldn’t afford to lose her.

“Are you sure?” Emily asked tentatively, “After all, we just lost…” She trailed off, not wanting to address the elephant in the room.

“I’ll be fine.” Dakota spoke sternly, trying to ignore the lump in her throat and the pain in her heart. “We don’t need much, right? Erica went out a few weeks ago, and we haven’t eaten much since… since…” Another deafening silence filled the air; again, no one wanted to address the incident.

“Okay, you can go.” Sarah spoke quickly, wanting this conversation to end. “Just be careful and be back before dinner.”

“If you give me a list of what we need, I’ll be back before lunch.” She said, her serious tone telling them she’d be okay.

“Take one of the petz with you; if things get tough, their powers will aid you.” Emily advised,

“I’ll bring Pink Pegasus with me; if anything happens, I’ll send her back with a note on her collar.”

The others nodded, agreeing with the idea.

“Just be careful, okay.” Erica said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I was out there last week and saw one in the shadows.”

“Who was it?” Ethan wondered,

Erica shook her head. “I’m not sure; however, I’m positive it was stalking me.”

No one had anything to say about that. Aside from fearing for their friend’s safety, the conversation ended shortly after, and Dakota left the safety of their hideout with a shopping basket and Pink Pegasus on her shoulder.

"Alright, Pink, let’s go.”

“Hiya!” Dakota exclaimed, kicking a zombified Principal Hick’s to the ground.

Rory jumped back, not even seeing the zombie coming up behind him. “Whoa, thanks for the save, Dakota.”

The other smirked, straightening herself up and wiping sweat off her forehead. "Anytime, Rory, but do you have any idea how irresponsible that was?"You can’t just go off fighting zombies without proper protection! Haven’t those video games taught you anything?! You might be a vampire, but you’re not invincible.”

Rory opened his mouth to reassure her, but she was right. “I’m sorry, Dakota. I promise I’ll be more careful from now on.”

She smiled, hugging her best friend close. “You better, I hate the idea of facing off against a zombie vampire.” She chuckled,

Rory laughed as well, knowing she was right—craving both blood and brains was a recipe for disaster. Plus, he didn’t want to hurt his friends.

“So, what’s our next move?”

Dakota was about to answer when moaning in the distance made them jump. “We get out of here; zombies have taken over WC High, and the streets are not much better. We need somewhere to keep the infection from spreading and a place to keep us safe while we find a cure.”

Rory thought for a moment as Dakota led him away from the area. “I think I’ve got an idea.” He replied with a bright smile,

Dakota and Pink Pegasus creeped around the supermarket and checked things off the list; the zombies seemed to stick to the back of the store verses the front, so the two were undisturbed for the most part. But that didn’t mean their guard was down. Pink Pegasus flew around the aisles, making sure the coast was clear.

“Any sign of zombies?” She asked,

Pink Pegasus whinnied with a shake of her head; Dakota sighed, feeling safe enough to continue. The young teen grabbed a can of tomato soup and yelped, dropping it to the ground, when she saw a person behind the shelf.

However, once she saw those bright blue eyes and head full of blonde hair, she calmed down, knowing it was Rory.

“Oh, Rory, it was just you.” She sighed, placing a hand over her racing heart; she completely forgot Rory came with her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He stated, flying over the shelf and landing beside her, “What did you find?”

“I got tomato soup, some veggies, herbs, substitute blood ingredients, and cereal.” She listed off as Rory nodded, “What about you?”

“I got some oatmeal, moisturizer for Erica and Sarah, some soap, and hygiene products so we can shower, and I got some comfort food for Benny, Jane, and Ethan.” Dakota took a peek at Rory’s basket and saw some Little Debbie snacks, along with chips, soda pop, and marshmallows. She giggled at that Rory did love his marshmallows; they should head to a park and roast some in a few days.

“So, what’s next on the list?” He asked as the two walked around as if it were a normal day.

Dakota pressed her lips in a thin line, dreading what she was about to say. “Amy wants another sample of the coffee.”

“Are you serious? Didn’t they drink it all already?"

His partner shook her head. “Apparently another contaminated batch was delivered here recently. Amy fears more exposure to the De-Brainer could cause the infection to mutate either that or kill them. It’s risky, I know, and it’s an optional stop bu-

“I’ll do it.” He interrupted,

Dakota snapped her head towards him, “No, No Rory you don’t need to do that. I’ll go with you.”

“Dakota, it’s okay; you need to get our supplies back to base, and I’ve got the best chance out of anyone to get the coffee.”

Dakota shook her head, wanting to argue, but any words died in her throat as Rory pulled her into the tightest hug he could muster without breaking every bone in her body.

“It’s going to be okay, Dakota; I’m going to be okay.”

Dakota wanted to say something anything to change Rory’s mind. However, the blonde vampire let her go, kissed her, and super-speeded off.

She never should have let him go.

The young girl just stood there completely frozen, just staring at the spot where Rory was moments ago. Time slowed to a crawl as she struggled to regain motor function and rush back to home base to warn the others. She told Pink Pegasus to go on ahead and followed close behind; she burst open the door as the others jumped back, surprised by her outburst.

“Dakota, what happened?!” Amy shouted, knowing something had happened.

“R-Rory, he-he’s…

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” Amy gestured, attempting to calm her down, and led her to a chair. “Start from the beginning—what happened and where’s Rory?”

Dakota took a deep breath and retelling her story.

“Rory and I were out scouting for supplies when I told him about the coffee sample and insisted he could grab it and left me behind. Now he’s out on his own and in danger.” She explained fighting back tears,

The gang gasped quickly, leaping into action as Ethan wordlessly ushered everyone to get their gear for a rescue and recovery mission. However, the door slammed open for the second time, revealing an injured Rory clutching his arm and slowly coming in before collapsing to the ground. It all happened so fast, Sarah screamed, causing Cindy, Erica, Mabel, and Chloe to run into the room and see Rory on the ground. Mabel started crying uncontrollably as Chloe tried to comfort her; Erica helped Amy and Cindy look over Rory’s wounds and found a bite mark on his shoulder. Even in his dazed state, Rory explained he had the sample in his sight. When Principal Hicks ambushed him, Rory tried to fight him off, but reinforcements caught him by surprise, and the gym teacher bit into his shoulder. He knew coming back was a terrible idea, but he couldn’t leave without at least saying goodbye.

Their final moments were spent cleaning up the wound so it wouldn’t get infected and saying their goodbyes. Dakota stayed with Rory the longest, keeping her distance as they walked and allowing her tears to flow freely. Rory tried to reassure her that he’d be okay and that they’d find the cure. But his slurred speech and slower movements just broke her heart even more.

It wasn’t long before the infection took over and instincts kicked in; Dakota barely escaped his attack, not that she was trying too. It was hard to fight with a broken heart; the loss of Rory’s presence hit harder than they’d thought. No one realized how much of an emotional support the blonde became until he was gone; his high energy and positive spirit really did make the situation feel hopeful, and now they were down a member and the pressure to find a cure felt more urgent. Amy started working twice as hard to cure the infection, but without another sample she was stuck. At that point they had no choice but to receive the coffee; however, they made sure they were more prepared before heading out, making extra sure they wouldn’t lose anyone else. Yet no matter how much planning and scoping out the area, things still went wrong.

For starters, there were more zombies than they remembered, all of which were circling around and protecting the source of their brain deadness; then Ethan, who managed to get a small cup if it, had to go and drop the sample, making the zombies hone in on him. The gang had no choice but to retreat; however, Benny stayed, forcing the others to leave him behind as he grabbed the coffee. There were too many zombies for the gang to come in and rescue him; even Erica and Sarah didn’t dare attempt a half-hearted plan, knowing it’d just make things worse.

Finally, after the zombies were cleared out and scattered to other parts of the store, Benny came out of hiding, coffee in hand and a clear bite visible on his upper arm. The screams of anguish still haunted Dakota and Ethan’s nightmares as they crowded around the spell master and hugged it out. They returned to the hideout with one less member, and somehow it just hit harder.

Shortly after Rory’s departure, Benny and Dakota became pretty close; he cared about Rory more than he ever let on and admitted Rory’s presence in the group just felt right, which was one of the main reasons they stayed friends after all these years. The two spent a lot of sleepless nights just talking, reminiscing about the past, ideas on what the future will hold, and other general chats to get their minds off the situation now her emotional support buddy was gone.

“It’s not fair.” She muttered tears streaming down her face as she recalled these painful memories. “It was supposed to us against the word! Now I’m all alone.” The young girl just sat there crying; it hurt. She lost Rory, she lost Benny, and the thought of losing her other friends haunted her every waking moment. It was just becoming too much; she just needed a moment to let it all out. Unbeknownst to her, a zombie heard her cries and started making their way over to her; once the sounds of their moans became apparent, Dakota turned around and screamed, immediately backing away.

“R-Rory…” She croaked, seeing her best friend for the first time in weeks; her heart ached at the sight of him, but she couldn’t let her emotions get the better of her. She grabbed the basket and booked it; however, Rory didn’t let her go that easily and began giving chase; it was her nightmare all over again. Rory was relentless; she couldn’t tell if it was because he recognized her or if he was that hungry for brains and blood, but for once she didn’t care. She dove behind and flew on top of shelves while gathering the last bit of supplies, god forbid; she didn’t want to return empty-handed.

Once she got what she needed, she hid inside a clothes rack, and it seemed to throw Rory off her scent. She waited with bated breath for what felt like eternity until she couldn’t feel Rory’s presence anymore. She pulled the clothes apart and stepped over the rack. Glancing at Pink Pegasus, who seemed to be okay, albeit a bit shaken but safe all the same.

“Come on, girl, let’s head back.”

The Petz Fantasy nodded, making sure to stay close in case they encounter another surprise attack; thankfully, they were only minutes away from home base. That didn’t stop Dakota’s thoughts from lingering on her short reunion with Rory; it hurt seeing him again after all this time. She missed him more than anything and had dreams of running away to be with him; however, those moments of weakness were short lived when the realization of Rory’s other curse would hit her. She didn’t know if becoming a zombie affected his ability to control his vampire venom, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Becoming a zombie was one thing; becoming a vampire hybrid was another; she knew the others would kill both of them if she did something that reckless.

She was almost back when someone grabbing her arm stopped her. She yelled, dropping the basket, and spun around to see Rory caught up to her.

“W-What do you want with me?” She questioned fearfully; she didn’t get a response; she knew she could get away, but she just couldn’t find the heart to take Rory out. closing her eyes, but no movement came, nor did the painful sting of her flesh being bit into. Dakota braced herself for what happened next. But no movement came, nor did the painful sting of her flesh being bit into. Dakota opened one of her eyes and was shocked to see Rory holding his other hand out, which held her cell phone.

The girl in his clutches gasped; she didn’t realize her phone fell out of her pocket; she slowly grabbed it out of Rory’s hand, who let it go easily. But he didn’t let his grip on her other hand go as he moved it, so she was cupping his cheek.

His former lover was a little fearful of this, but once she felt his smooth skin instead of hot breathing, she allowed herself to relax and take in this intimate moment. Rory’s skin was still soft and smooth despite its decaying and rough look; his temperature was the same, cold, but she felt warmth radiating beneath her fingertips. Now that she had time to drink in Rory’s features, his blue eyes still held a sparkle to them, like there was still a part of him underneath all the brain fog.

“I…” She swallowed, chocking on her words, “I miss you.”

“I…miss…you…too.”

Dakota could barely choke back a sob from hearing those words; she couldn’t keep it in as she threw her arms around her zombie vampire boyfriend. They just stayed safe in each other’s embrace until Rory pulled away, kissed her knuckles, and sped off.

“Dakota!” The young girl spun around in shock seeing Ethan, Amy, and Cindy running towards her.

“Hey, where have you been? You’ve been out for hours. Hey, are you okay?” He asked, seeing her tear-stained face,

Dakota smiled bittersweetly at the seer, not wanting to tell him who she saw. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine; I've just been thinking about Rory and Benny and got sorta emotional. I’m okay though.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.” Ethan mirrored her bittersweet sadness; he really missed Benny. “I miss them too; we’ll save them, I promise.”

The other girl nodded, grabbing the basket off the ground, and followed the others inside. She spared one last glance towards the clothing section and saw Rory watching her; she gave him a tiny wave, to which he waved back before speeding off again. For the first time in ages she could smile; she didn’t know how it was possible, but somehow Rory was able to regain some form of awareness. It made her feel safe enough to seek him out when she headed out again.

Even as a zombie, he never wanted to eat her brains; he just wanted her heart, soul, and love, which was something he made very clear to Benny when he returned to their base and excitedly told him about his encounter with the love of his undead life. And the spell master couldn’t help but share those tears of joy since he too missed them all dearly.

End Notes: So, there we have it, I originally came up with this idea after having a dream. About being in a Walmart and seeing zombie Hicks and Rory after that the rest of the idea just came to me. I also love Zombie Rory he's so cute, he makes such a cute zombie. Anyway, this story is going on hiatus for a little bit I hope to work on it again soon but after getting a few more Halloween backlogged chapters for other fics out I'm going on break. With that said I hope everyone enjoyed my Halloween Extravaganza for the past two months I certainly enjoyed it. I hope to see you all next time and Happy Late Halloween.

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