#i remember exactly which grave i was at and everything

[rainbowsuitcase]

Ice is woken up way too early by insistent knocking on the door of his room. Wondering what could possibly have caught on fire before 0800 in the morning, he opens the door trying to blink sleep out of his eyes and freezes when he's met by a very angry looking Nick Bradshaw.

"I really didn't think you'd stoop that low," Goose scoffs at him.

Ice glances down at himself. He's wearing dark boxers with no embarrassing pattern and the old USNA shirt he sleeps in is a little worn out, sure, but also clean. He knows his hair is a mess but c'mon, he just woke up, whose wouldn't be?

He concludes that he has no idea what Goose is talking about. "Uhm, what?"

"Don't play stupid, Kazansky. You know what you did."

Oh. This is about something in the past.

Ice still has no idea what though. "I... have not had a hangover in quite some time, so yes, I can say I remember just about everything I did lately-"

Goose interrupts him with a hissed, "That's really all you have to say to me?"

"-and I have no idea which of those things could have possibly pissed you off this much."

"Fuck you too, Tom." Oh no, not the first name. "What did Mav ever actually do to you?"

Ice is just more and more confused by the second. Is he still asleep? Is that why nothing's making sense? Mav did... quite a lot to him just a couple days ago, but Ice sincerely doubts Goose actually wants to hear about any of that.

"Uhm- not much lately?" he tries slowly. "Which I guess is actually impressive now that I think about it?"

"I'm not fucking around, Tom," Goose growls, leaning forward to get in his face. "Why did you punch him?"

"I... punched him?" Is this a joke? It's way too early for this.

"I fucking saw the bruise," Goose doesn't sound like he's joking. "Mav's refusing to tell me anything. What the fuck did you do to him?"

Ice tries to take a deep breath but no, he's not lacking oxygen, his lungs feel fine, his head doesn't hurt and this isn't making any sense. "You saw... the bruise?"

"Tom, I swear to God I'm gonna give you a bruise if you don't stop repeating what I'm saying and start answering!"

"Okay!" Ice exclaims, lifting his hands palms up because threats from Mother Goose should never be taken lightly, even by a very confused recipient. "Okay, uhm... what bruise did you see?"

"The one on his hip!" Goose shouts and Ice realizes too late that that was the wrong thing to say. "Is there more than one? What the fuck, man?"

"I- the bruise on Mav's hip-" Ice winces. He can't exactly say he didn't put it there, but he's not sure that admitting it's not really a bruise is such a good idea either.

And thankfully, before he's forced to find out, there's shouting from down the hallway. "Goose!" And that's Maverick running toward them. "Goose, stop! Ice didn't hurt me!"

Goose politely gets out of Ice's face and huffs. "How'd you know I was here?"

Mav is breathing hard, grabbing at his chest - did he run the whole way here? And he's still wearing his sleeping shirt too, with a stain on the collar, though he's taken the time to put on actual pants at least.

Gasping for air, he still does his best to answer. "Well I- I woke up and you weren't there and... You got so pissed last night, it wasn't that hard to figure out. But I swear, Goose-" he straightens up and raises his voice, "-Ice didn't punch me!"

"You don't have to defend him just because we used to be friends." Well, that emphasis hurts. But Ice is sure- he's hoping that they'll be fine once this gets cleared up.

"You can still be friends!" Mav throws his hands up in a frantic gesture. "He didn't do anything to me I didn't want!"

Goose freezes on the spot, anger melting into confusion at record speed. "What?"

And because apparently, Ice before 0800 is in the business of digging graves, he clears his throat. "Yeah, I... didn't exactly make that bruise with my hands."

And because apparently, Mav is a little shit in any and every situation, he meets Goose's wide eyes with a grin. "The one on my thigh, though-"

"Nope!" Goose raises his hands. "No, shut up, I don't need to hear more! I..." he hesitates, looking back at Ice. "I am very sorry for waking you up, Ice. And for yelling at you... And I'm gonna give two some space now! Happy for you both!"

He backs away slowly, giving them two thumbs up until he turns around and sets out at a fast pace.

Ice looks down at Mav and sighs, "That went well. You couldn't have just told him?"

Mav's smile dims. "I didn't think he'd react that badly," he mumbles. "Just wanted to keep you to myself for a while."

That's so damn sweet.

And, well. Mav is here, looking all ruffled and soft from sleep, and there's no one else around.

Ice puts a hand on his shoulder. "You do have me for yourself, Mav." And then he leans down to kiss his boyfriend.

[chiropterancreed]

you guys ever have dreams about ghosts and then look up the deceased person on findagrave.com and actually find them? or is that just me?

[onsomenewsht]

from the vault:

my knees shake / my heart beats like a drum

》 Feels Like I’m in Love, Kelly Marie

》 Aitana Bonmati x Reader

》 the “language of flowers” is an example of cryptological communication that attributes meanings to flowers and plants, determined by cultural beliefs, legends, and myths

“I need flowers that mean I’m done with you, get married already, what do you have for me?”

The giggles that fill your shop are cute enough to overcome Aitana’s embarrassment at the looks of the other customers.

In her defense, the place is usually empty this time of the day, too early for an apology’s rush in and too late for a date’s pick up.

“Don’t worry Teresa, she means well”, you reassure the old lady, who turns around with a questioning – and quite judgemental, if you ask the footballer – glance.

The bouquet arranged for her every month to bring to her late husband’s grave is almost ready, you just have to cut and adjust some little touches.

As she waits for your attention, the brunette dances around the shop on the heels of her shoes, gaze wandering from the elaborated compositions exposed to the wall covered with green leaves and colourful notes left by your customers for you or their loved ones.

She always tries to spot the new additions.

“I’m all yours, stargirl”

“Can I have another name?”

“I don’t know, let’s ask the mural with your face right around the corner”

The ease with which you can stain Aitana’s cheeks in red is quite embarrassing, if not for the genuine smile the flirt always comes with. She could let you tease her all day just to keep talking with you and be able to pull an open laugh out of you.

“What were you saying about getting married?”

The Catalan’s brain short-circuits, she needs a moment to realise what you’re talking about as her mouth opens and closes several times to your amusement.

“Right! My friends! My friends invited me for dinner. I will be third-wheeling again, they need to get married already!”

“Your football friends, right? The one with all the tattoos who looks like could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll?”

“How do you do that?”, she asks, pointing at you with a frenetic moving finger, “You meet her once, how do you get people so well?”

“I have to, people don’t come in knowing what they want but asking for what they need”

You smile at Aitana’s questioning gaze, starting to walk around the shop to gather some flowers and decorative leaves to create a little table piece for her. Your hands move in precise motions, somehow knowing exactly where to place everything.

“I need a flower that means I’m happy you invited me to your house warming party, but I barely remember your husband name or someone could enter and ask for something that means I cheated on you with our kid’s teacher, but please just think I’m suddenly a hopelessly romantic and so on”, you explain, even faking different voices and accents to prove your point.

“You’re kidding”

“You’d be surprised”

~

“I told you Tana, you don’t have to bring flowers every time we invite you over”

Ingrid welcomes the Catalan inside, even so accepting the beautiful gift with excitement to find the perfect spot for it.

“Oh, please! Those are not for us, but just an excuse to see the flower girl!”

The cat’s toy that flies through the entire room perfectly hits Mapi’s head as soon as she joins them from the kitchen.

Completely ignoring the commotion, her girlfriend places the little arrangement in the middle of the table, carefully caressing the long green leaves and noticing how the colours perfectly complement the house’s decor.

She turns to spot the blushing spreads on Aitana’s face.

“Her flowers are beautiful”

“They are”, the taller footballer confirms, an amused smile on her lips.

“She’s cute too”, she admits.

“She definitely is!”

María is fast enough to avoid the punch coming from her friend – the midfielder may be shorter, but her arms are impressive.

“Do you remember that bouquet I came back home with last month?”, the defender asks the Norwegian, who nods with curiosity, “Well, I happen to mention our anniversary to our little Tana here. I somehow find myself in this flower shop, watching her talking and walking around as she owns the place, and the actual owner flirting without shame right in front of my salad–”

This time, the hit lands on her shoulder with just enough force to shut her up, but not enough to stop the laughter erupting from Aitana’s so-called friends.

~

The day after spending almost 30 euros in flowers she finds herself giving away to the training staff, Aitana knows she needs to put an end to it.

You’re setting up the shop for the day, putting out some green arrangements and new compositions.

It’s definitely too early to be here, but she has to talk to you without the fear of being interrupted by Pablo – the serial dater who buys a bunch of roses every two weeks for different girls – or worse, Teresa.

She marches into the place, dragging you inside and almost giving you a heart attack.

“I need a flower that says I’ve been coming to your shop an obnoxious amount of times the past couple of months, buying flowers I don’t actually need with any excuses I can come up with, just to talk to you ‘cus I have a huge crush and can’t ask you out to save my life, do you think you can help me?”

You study Aitana with a huge smile on your lips, closing the small distance and holding her face between your hands to properly meet her eyes. Her face is red, and her breath is shortened by the rushed confession.

She’s never been more beautiful.

“You don’t need flowers for that”

The kiss that follows is soft and full of meaning.

[seeker-ophelia]

Mythal, Solas, and Lavellan

So there’s lots of discussion about Mythal and Solas, and we need to talk about it.

I too, at first, was mad that Lavellan wasn’t enough for Solas.

And then I started thinking about it.

Not only was Mythal his mother, his creator, she coaxed him into being. Into changing his spirit and his purpose.

Regret Number 1.

He let her use his knowledge and wisdom to do a terrible thing, to kill (tranquil) the titans, changing a whole race of people at a molecular magical level.

Regret Number 2.

When that choice created the worst power known to Thedas (the blight) he was responsible again. And Mythal asked him to step up and fight against it, and he did. And a lot of people died.

Regret 3.

Mythal DIED. (IMO The gods blighted her because she stood against them for wanting to use the blight but that’s not important here). And Solas blames himself.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her puppy. Her Emerald Knight. Her General. Her Protector. Her Wisdom. Her servant, her SLAVE. He is BOUND TO HER. And he caused her downfall.

And you’re all like, GEAS! GEAS!

But wait.

From HIS perspective.

Rook says something somewhere along the lines of like, by abstainsing from being the good guy (oh wait maybe it was Varric in the fade…)

By choosing to be the villain instead of the hero is he absolving himself of the guilt (regret) that comes from having to have made those choices.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her slave.

LOOK AT HIS BODY LANGUAGE.

He is a worm in the dirt in front of her. He is a scolded child, a puppy with his tail between his legs.

But in the eyes of Mythal, he was always her friend. The one person who had always stood by her. She did not literally entrap him, or bind him. It was all in Solas’ own head.

He refused to take accountability for his actions, only able to survive through the crushing weight of his own guilt by blaming it on servitude to Mythal.

That’s why Rook escaped the prison. Because she faced her own choices, choices with terrible consequences, and accepted them. Took responsibility for them, and promised to do better.

Remember, after the Temple of Mythal…

Solas…

You gave yourself into the service of an ancient elvhen god!

What does that mean exactly?

You are Mythal’s creature now, everything you do whether you know it or not will be for her. *** You have given up a part of yourself.

***THIS WAS NEVER TRUE. IT WAS NOT TRUE FOR FLEMYTHAL & MORRIGAN, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR ABELAS, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR SOLAS. HE JUST WANTED TO BELIVE THAT IT WAS.

…I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus. Which leads to the next logical question… What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?

The war proved that we can’t go back to the way things were. I’ll try to help this world move forward. **Lavellan is talking about the mage/templar conflict, but Solas is putting her in his own shoes. Solas reached for power he could not control and fucked the whole world up.

You would risk everything you have with the hope that the future is better? What if it isn’t? What if you wake up to find that the future you shaped is worse than what was? **

**This is literally him asking her what she would do in his shoes. He woke up and the world was in chaos OF HIS MAKING. To prevent an evil HE CAUSED from spreading, he orchestrated the downfall of the people he loved and swore to protect.

I’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again.

Just like that?

*He is in shock that she can be so cavalier about the guilt that has rocked him for (4?) millennia.

If we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right.

*And this is the only thing that calms him down.

You’re right. Thank You.

For what?

You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor, you have… impressed me.

You have offered hope that is one keeps trying, even if the consequences are grave… that someday, things will be better.

Then, of course, he takes this to mean that he needs to try to put The Evanuris in a different prison and take down the veil which isn’t at all what we meant sweetie but that’s okay get up and try again.

This is a classic case of a person in power not understanding the terrible, horrible consequences of unfettered power imbalances. Because Solas was always Friend to Mythal (Im not going into Freudian sex shit with you weirdos right now).

Solas was Mythals FRIEND.

Mythal was Solas’ EVERYTHING.

co·de·pend·en·cy

/ˌkōdəˈpend(ə)nsē/

noun

excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner,

His Mother, General, Creator, Protector, Queen, Goddess.

And he loved her so fiercely with every fiber of his new, physical being.

And he hated it.

And when Lavellan fell for him, and he for her, he was afraid.

Because he would never force a spirit against her purpose, and in his eyes the only way to love is the sick and twisted way he loved Mythal.

But again, from Mythal’s perspective, it wasn’t twisted. Solas was just Solas. And once again the powerful care not for the thoughts and opinions of those beneath them.

And that sin is on Mythal.

And that’s why she comes out and talks to Solas. Both aspects of her. To release him from the bonds that never existed. Be free, friend. You always were, but if you need me to say it I will because I love you.

“I pulled you from the fade and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon… and it broke you.”

Cole: Is there a way to save more spirits, Solas?

Solas: Not until the Veil is healed. The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.

Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you. Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.

Be free.

“The things that I have done…”

“Are not for you to bear alone, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together.”

And he COWERS before her. Shaking and shuddering. FNALLY being absolved of the guilt he’s carried since his inception.

“I release you from my service.”

And he SOBBS. At the RELIEF.

And Lavellan kneels before him (wrong, IMO because they should be equals but its fine)

And he can go back to his original purpose.

Not Pride.

Not Knowledge.

Not even Wisdom.

But Protection.   

“My life force now sustains the veil. With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

The Shepherds Wolf. Protecting his flock from those who would do them harm.

And Lavellan promises it won’t be terrible, as long as they’re together.

And maybe Solas can try this different kind of love. A love built on respect, and trust, instead of fear, and obedience.

And he can be his purpose, Protection, and also be a man. And love his vhenan.

Because he is free.

[givehimthemedicine]

time for my big lumax rantpost. I used to be way more of a shipper but upon reexamining some of my GA-era assumptions, I'm here to tell you why it sucks, and why I don't look forward to lumax endgame if it's the same lumax we've been getting.

lumax has fantastic potential, but needs lots of work to actually become the ship most of the fandom thinks it is.

I get the sense most on here consider lumax ST's darling perfect ship which is sullied by weak and/or racist writing. while I wouldn't argue at all that the writing does right by Lucas, I do think it's important to recognize lumax as an intentionally-written badly flawed relationship, NOT a poorly-written perfect relationship. (the writing for 5 has a lot to prove so we'll see)

lumax is obviously happening. no ending to Lucas's story makes sense other than him getting the girl. however, I don't like that from either character's standpoint.

from hers - Max is not a prize. and from his - Max is no prize.

Max is a pretty shitty girlfriend.

we've never seen her show Lucas any interest in learning anything about him. I can't remember a time she's complimented him, said anything nice about him, or done anything purely for his benefit. virtually all of their serious conversations have been about her, and the scant few that are sort of about him are inevitably just a lead-in to him offering support to her.

Lucas and Max's relationship - pre, during, and post dating - is 100% about what he can do for her. he's the one making 100% of the effort.

it seems like most of their interactions are him walking on eggshells trying to placate, reassure, or convince her, all for the reward of.... what. being allowed to continue existing near her? like yeah, she's a cool girl, but. that can't be it.

what good is getting the girl if the girl doesn't really offer anything?

. . .

through the seasons, semiquickly:

season 2

Lucas and Dustin both like Max, so they invite her trick or treating, offering to protect her from bullies and show her where the good candy is. in other words, the first Max / Lucas interaction is him offering something to benefit her. Max returns no appreciation or even response to the invite, yet still shows up to reap the benefits.

that pretty much sets the tone.

Max wants to be included, but that's a sensitive subject, so she puts on aloof airs to protect herself. it's an act, but nonetheless it's all Lucas receives.

the facade slips on multiple occasions though; Lucas is permitted to see her vulnerability, and we can see she's actually more desperate to make the connection than he is.

Dustin seeks Steve's manipulation tactics to use on Max, but Lucas wins her over by treating her like an equal and offering her genuine friendship.

he risks both his place in the party and his safety/life to include her, gives his undivided attention when she talks to him, asks questions that show his interest and concern, he reassures, uplifts and compliments her, and physically protects her.

in return, Max. uhh. well she does apologize for being a jerk, although she doesn't exactly stop, lmao. this is one of only two moments I can think of when Max reveals any regard for what Lucas thinks of her.

lumax is off-balance before it even starts, although s2 is when I think that dynamic is most permissible. since Max is a newcomer, Lucas has the advantage in many respects, and it makes sense for him to be the one extending a hand to her.

when Billy attacks Lucas for hanging out with Max, he could be gravely hurt if not for Steve taking the beating instead. Max joins in the momentary group hug but never says a word about this. (I suspect the writers mean for Max's bus apology to have proactively served as a veiled "sorry my stepbro is racist" but more felt needed in that moment.)

then they go to the dance and she kisses him and it's cute and everything is happy for ten whole seconds.

between 2 and 3

even though the summer of '85 is "the good days," this relationship is already careening downhill.

we learn that Max has dumped Lucas five times - such a regular occurrence that he takes it in stride and is well practiced at winning her back as a result.

unfortunately it's Lucas taking to heart the "happy wife happy life" policy from his dad that's set up lumax as something that seems to serve only Max. her awareness of the policy means she holds all the cards.

season 3

Max has secured her place in the party and the relationship, and now it's time for her to bring something to the table, but I honestly can't name one thing. it's still Lucas bending over backwards and Max sometimes being a bit of a jerk. (another act. we'll come back to this)

from the start of 3 we see an excessively secure Max and an obsequious Lucas. she doesn't show him any of the vulnerability that made her endearing in 2. they share fun moments, but we can infer that she doesn't treat him very well in ways that matter.

at one point she even plays mad just to watch him panic. you get the feeling this boy can never feel secure in his relationship. yeah she's just teasing, but do you think Lucas is allowed to tease too?

when El comes to Max for advice, she tells her that "boyfriends lie all the time" and this is before we see Lucas lie to her.

when Mike comes to Lucas for advice, he confidently schools him on how to get back in El's good graces by buying her a present - making clear he's been following his dad's advice all summer long and it's been working:

L: Dad? When Mom's mad at you, how do you make her not mad? C: First, I apologize. Then, I get your mother whatever she wants. L: Even when she's wrong? C: She's never wrong, son.

the mall confrontation is the first time we see Lucas really lie to Max, but even then, the girls don't actually have proof Nana isn't sick.

it's telling, actually, that Lucas's loyalty goes to Mike instead of Max in this moment. in s2 it was the other way around (Lucas pissed off the whole party by including her in the group and telling her the truth - a technically banishable offense). but now he's back to his s1 bros before hoes policy, and not only backs up but expands on Mike's lie. after dating almost a year, his loyalty to Max should be even stronger, but here we see the opposite. if Max had been at least as good a friend to him as Mike, I'm inclined to think he would at least have tried to be noncommittal here.

Max is so confident Lucas will have nothing on his mind but winning her back, as always - meanwhile who we actually see Lucas apologizing to is Will.

she may have had Lucas wrapped around her little finger all summer, but we're seeing that start to uncoil. if Lucas apologizes, it's offscreen.

when Billy tries to break out of the sauna to kill Max, Lucas slingshots him and body shields Max during the fight. next thing you know, Max is back to being cliquey with El in the bathroom (making fun of Mike even though he was the only one who did anything to save El's life?? girl you're being shitty to boyfriends that aren't even yours)

they seem to be a couple again by the end of 3, but the relationship is weakened...

between 3 and 4

..which sets the scene for how the two apparently drift when Max ends it once again. she's not playing this time - she uses the term "break up" instead of "dump" and Lucas has accepted that it's over.

depression makes it hard for Max to connect with him, but the way she treated him in 3 has likely also eaten away at his insistence on prioritizing her. if you push someone away over and over you can't be too surprised if they stay further away each time.

so Max withdraws socially and Lucas apparently doesn't go to his usual lengths to pursue her.

he's still making effort though! the "stalking" comment makes it clear he's been trying to approach her. we know he's been inviting her to his basketball games. him already knowing her favorite song as of 4x4 is more evidence of him taking an interest in her between seasons.

he clearly still cares a lot about Max, but good for him for pursuing his own hobbies and friendships as well.

season 4

Lucas finally asks Max to do something to support him for once (come to his game), but she shuts it down hard.

we know Max still cares about him, but that's just it - WE know. he doesn't. to his face, it's bristling rejection even while he literally begs for the chance to support her.

saving Max's life is a group effort, but Lucas knowing her favorite song is the key that saves her life, and it's only after that that she's friendly towards him again.

the only time I can recall Max expressing any concern for Lucas's wellbeing is when she asks if he's okay in 4x6 - and he only gets a few sentences to process Patrick's death before it's time for him to turn it into an apology to her. sigh.

Lucas is the only one of Max's friends to voice any objection to her suicide mission of a Vecna plan, and pitches for them to gamble a stranger's life instead. he once again risks his life to hang out in the Creel house with Max, personally taking on the huge responsibility of making sure she doesn't die.

Vol 2 Max finally shows Lucas some long-awaited appreciation ("you might have been there" and "I'm glad you're here") which is very nice to see.

I'm conflicted about the movie invite scene, but we'll talk about that later. textually: he asks her out, she accepts, it's totes adorbs.

unfortunately, Max being tranced out by the time Jason walks in means it's time for Lucas once again to get attacked by an older, stronger guy who's wrongly convinced he's a danger to her. (again not her fault, but kinda because of her)

everything goes sideways, Max gets Vecna'd, and Lucas holds her while she dies. we end on a bruised Lucas sitting loyally at Max's bedside, reading to her just in case she can hear it inside her coma.

Lucas hasn't been perfect but he has spent yet another season physically protecting and emotionally supporting Max at great personal expense, and with little appreciation and no support in return.

. . .

the movie doodle didn't fix lumax

Max has had an epiphany, but a change of behavior has scarcely begun. being nice isn't the same as making amends. they've resolved zero of the old issues, plus 4 (even if the plan had worked) has heaped a ton of new shit on both of them.

she's still a grieving, neglected, depressed and passively suicidal child of a triply-broken home. dating doesn't fix that. they already broke up once under the same conditions.

plus Max has new catastrophic emotional traumas, some of which which explicitly exacerbate those very issues. she has catastrophic injuries and disability to cope with (and this is a girl who withdraws under stress normally). with a shred of realism, she's waking up in less a mood for dating than ever.

Lucas has also taken on new traumas, between the basketball team stuff, getting beaten up and almost shot/strangled, and watching Max get Vecna'd and die. he already has a history of guilt about not being there for her enough, so he's going to have a lot more about failing her in that moment (definitely not his fault but he'll still feel bad) and will likely be even more focused on her.

to me, this all sounds like a recipe for the same old dynamic except worse than ever. if they get sleeping beauty'd directly back into lumax, it'll be a disservice to both characters.

. . .

now let's talk about why Max treats Lucas the way she does 🔬

she's not a conniving bitch, she's just a scared kid from a toxic home. that doesn't excuse her behavior but it does make it understandable.

Max CAN be a great friend. she's just not to Lucas.

Max absolutely showers El with the good qualities she'll barely show Lucas. in fact I could loosely say Max is to El what Lucas is to Max.

Max is suspicious and disparaging towards Lucas, even while trusting that he can be counted upon to grovel. meanwhile El never apologizes for intentionally hurting Max both physically and emotionally, yet the moment El acknowledges her (only because she wants help), Max is instantly forgiving, kind, gentle, caring, generous and supportive towards her.

she throws her loyalty behind a friend of 1 afternoon over her boyfriend of a year who's been the only person in Hawkins to show her any true kindness and emotional connection.

if Max was half the friend to Lucas that she is to El, she'd be a decent girlfriend. why isn't she?

we can name a few reasons why Max IS so nice to El, but why she ISN'T to Lucas is a separate question. kindness isn't zero-sum.

she told us why. boyfriends lie.

and it's ANY boyfriend, not just hers. Nana's sick? more like Mike's a lying piece of shit! Suzie from camp? fake! Dustin's obviously lying! the only one of the boys Max has never accused of lying is Will - the only one who's been single the whole time.

just. the state of being a boyfriend (or even just liking a girl is close enough), makes any boy automatically a liar.

Max believes "friend" and "boyfriend" are mutually exclusive

"Friends don't lie!" "Yeah, well, boyfriends lie all the time." <- it's all right there.

back in 2 when Lucas was her friend, she was more open and trusting. she gave him the benefit of the doubt that monsters were real and he knew a girl with magic powers. starting to date flipped the switch, and now she doesn't trust him about mundane stuff.

now they're not friends, they're boyfriend/girlfriend, and she expects to be treated in a whole different way, including all the baggage that comes with romantic relationships in her mind.

what baggage?

Max's childhood is full of examples of awful, manipulative men and abusive, broken relationships.

her dad: I'd only be speculating about why her parents' marriage failed, but in 2 Max misses California because her dad is still there, then by 4 acts like it's doubtful he can even be tracked down for delivery of what's basically her suicide letter. it's clear she desired a relationship with her dad but was abandoned. Neil: abusive asshole who rules the household with an iron fist. I'd be shocked if he hasn't abused Susan, and see little reason he wouldn't do it in front of Max (after all, we see him verbally and physically abuse his first wife in front of his son, in a bad fight over suspected lies/infidelity). in his grief over Billy, Neil and Susan have "bad fights" and he leaves the family. he's not missed, but it's still a second abandonment by a father figure. Billy: Max's peer example of guys in relationships: a sleazy, two-faced asshole who treats girls like trash and completely changes his persona to manipulate them for sex or whatever else he wants (Max appears to be all too aware of his sex life and is disgusted). abandonment issues with him too: a good relationship with a big brother would've meant the world to her, but he rejected and probably abused her for years; her letter at his grave reads "ever since you left" - same word she used for Neil.

Max desperately hopes Lucas is an exception to the rule, but these are the behaviors she would naturally fear from any guy she dates.

Max is especially terrified of being abandoned (and that she deserves it)

to be abandoned over and over can naturally leave a kid wondering if it's their fault, if this is the treatment they deserve.

Lucas is overall quite honest, and there's not an abusive bone in his body. the most realistic one of Max's fears to apply to him is that someday he'll leave her, too.

and that's the worst fear Vecna chooses to voice in Lucas's form: realizing he's been wrong about her, that she's fundamentally bad and he's glad she's going to be killed. a gutting abandonment from the guy she most wants to trust.

Vecna-Susan also tells Max that she deserves what's going to happen to her, that she's "broken everything" and that her letters can't make things right. because he's in full Vecna mode when he says it, I just took those as very general condemnations at first. but they hurt even worse when I remember they're still coming from "Susan" - revealing that Max feels she has broken her family.

she wanted Billy to die, and she figures Neil left because Billy died, so that's two of the abandonments being "her fault". if that's true, Max would also feel responsible for destroying her mom's life - having cost her her marriage, home, and financial security.

in her addictions Susans has, in an emotional sense, abandoned Max just like all her other family members - and Max fears she deserves it. how desperate she was for this hug... :(

anyway, back to lumax: let's reexamine those s3 dumpings

what exactly did Lucas even do? we never find out.

on first watch, I took "boyfriends lie" at face value and assumed Lucas got caught fibbing. but that doesn't fit so well.

he's maybe the party member most invested in "friends don't lie". honesty to his friends is a pillar of his character. again, he caused friction in 2 because he so strongly prioritized honesty to Max. to assume based on one line from an unreliable narrator that he randomly became a huge liar over the summer is unfair.

via their counseling of Mike and El, Lucas and Max tell us what's been going on with lumax

Max tells El:

He'll come crawling back to you in no time, begging for forgiveness. I guarantee him and Lucas are totally wallowing in self-pity and misery right now like "ohh, I hope they take us back!"

I think we all clocked that one: Max thinks that because El followed her technique, Mike will come crawling back - because Lucas has come crawling back to her several times now.

but I haven't seen much discussion about how the spying scene (which "he'll come crawling back" is paired with) shows Lucas assuring Mike that he's been dumped for an unfair and illogical reason because that's what Max has done to him several times now.

M: I just don't understand what I did to deserve this. L: Nothing. Nothing. That's my whole point. You are the victim here. Stop asking rational questions. M: I know, I know, you're right. Because women act on emotion and not logic. L: Precisely. It's a totally different species.

Max is pissed. but has she been irrational, acting on emotion and not logic, and dumping him for no apparent reason all summer? signs point to yes.

and I understand Lucas saying this. it's not pure misogyny out of nowhere; he's been told that his mother expects gifts and apologies even when wrong, Max acts that way too, and now so apparently does El. all of his examples concur that this is just how women in relationships are. (Charles Sinclair how many relationships will your advice destroy lmao)

both Max and Lucas are bringing preconceptions from home.

Max acts this way on purpose

I don't think she's dumped him over truly nothing (although that's how it looks to him). I'm thinking she blows real, minor missteps out of proportion.

any time Lucas does something slightly insensitive, it looks like the first red flag to her, and instead of communicating in a constructive way, she just throws up this "boys aint shit" force field and dumps him. of course she doesn't truly want to be rid of him, she's just sorta snapping the leash.

I think Max knows what she's doing. I think she wants to keep Lucas always on his back foot, because the relationship isn't as scary if she feels like she holds all the power.

she's always trying to cover up fear/sorrow with anger, because anger gives an illusion of control. and she's been conscious of that anger, and the fact that it's unfair to Lucas, since the beginning - that's what she apologized for on the bus. "I guess I'm angry too, and I'm sorry."

she was mature enough at 13 to see the error in her behavior, but still not mature enough by 15 to fix it. every season has just been a slightly different flavor of "leave before you get left".

so, that's my take on Max's relationship behavior. but again, explanations aren't excuses. Lucas deserves to be treated well, and that's not happening.

what needs to happen?

simply maturing more will help them both a lot. being 15 is a terrible condition in of itself.

I don't see Lucas dumping Max's ass, but she should take her own advice before the relationship continues: explain herself and fix the garbage parts of her behavior.

before Max can be the girlfriend Lucas deserves, she needs a substantial period of physical and emotional healing.

she needs renewed connections with her friends and family, and a lot of general growth in the area of communication and processing her feelings.

in regards to Lucas, she needs to work on her trust issues, and learn to extend him the treatment warranted by his behavior, not the behavior she fears from others. she needs to learn that "friend" and "girlfriend" aren't mutually exclusive, that real friendship is the key to their relationship, and is a two-way street.

any Billy racism/assault acknowledgement would be better years late than never, especially if grieving Billy continues to be a focus in front of Lucas.

Lucas could also use a little work

the relentless positivity doesn't serve Max well. often it turns out to be empty reassurances which make her feel let down (so, a soft version of the lies she fears). she let him know in 4x4 that this hurts her, but he kept doing it for the rest of the season.

but the big one is that "happy wife happy life" doesn't serve him well, and rewarding unfair treatment perpetuates the problem. yes, the ability to compromise, swallow pride, and be the bigger person are healthy parts of a relationship, as well as the willingness to extend grace to your partner/friend when they're struggling. but it always being on one designated person is a recipe for dissatisfaction and resentment.

Lucas should voice to Max that he, too, has struggles and needs support. I'd like to see him pursue outside interests unapologetically.

no, this isn't an exhaustive list, and I don't expect to see everything fixed at once, or explicitly processed onscreen. but I sure hope we get some evidence of change, and that this has all been part of an arc.

for instance, I'd love for the final lumax reconciliation to be Max asking Lucas to take her back.

I kind of hope not to see them officially together until the very end. in fact I'd so much rather see ST end on a good Max / Lucas friendship with an implied romantic future than jump back to the status quo.

l don't want to see lumax until it's a new lumax, based on real, reciprocal friendship.

[frostbitebakery]

A Disturbed State Of The Natural Environment, Gods-Fucking-Dammit

A Pada-Wan Story

for @lttrsfrmlnrrgby

“Obi— Commander Kenobi-“

“You can call me Obi-Wan, Cody,” the kid huffs. “Neither you nor I will suddenly combust into a ball of fire if you do.”

You don’t know that, Cody thinks, not liking how his voice sounds in his mind.

Four days since the incident - or, “The Incident,” how Boil and Waxer like to say in unison with the bucket lights under their chins -, two since the 104th of all Battalions received their signal and towed the 212th fleet to the nearest station within the Republic that would allow them to overhaul the ships’ electronics.

It has been exactly two point five hours since Wolffe stopped wheezing at Cody over comms. Nearly as much time as the kid had vanished from under Cody’s paranoid nose.

“Councilor Kenobi is safe and sound,” General Koon had assured him while Wolffe stood at perfect parade rest a step behind, shriek-laughing his armor off.

The kid sighs. “You have come here for a reason?” he asks, stubborn and prim. “Or is Wooley babysitting me not enough?” He points a thumb over his shoulder to Wooley popping up several yards away, waving.

“If you haven’t noticed Hook, Line, and Sinker also keeping an eye on you, my trepidations are justified.”

The kid rolls his eyes, gesturing to three empty looking spots in the distance. “I am well aware Master Koon is in league with you.”

Cody will not explain safety precautions again. He’s saving that for when the kid really sets out to stomp on any and all walls Cody had to hastily and thoroughly built when his General, his partner, suddenly turned into a child at the worst possible development stage for Cody’s sanity.

The kid studies him while Cody is trying to come up with a legitimate reason for looking for him. Direct admittance to personal concern would backfire on Cody in multiple, entertaining ways, and he frankly doesn’t want to deal with that. From the kid being smug that Cody cares about him very much so keeping his distance must mean something more. To accusations of not trusting Obi-Wan (which, correct, Cody doesn’t know him after all), seeing him as a kid (also true) when he’s sixteen and basically a stone’s throw away from becoming a geezer.

Sixteen. Cody shudders. He remembers very well that half year when he was that developmental age. He shudders again. Gods, the mood swings alone.

“I am reasonably paranoid about your welfare,” he says at last. Wooden which makes him cringe but he’s never lied to Obi-Wan and he’s not starting now.

The kid stares at him for a while. One corner of his mouth quirks up with a shrug and a shuttered look in his eyes Cody desperately wants to make better. “It’s different when they really are out to get you, isn’t it.” The Council had explained how precarious his older self’s safety was at the best of times. Cody had only seen the aftermath and the accompanying ranting about life choices with the occasional visibly happy understanding that Obi-Wan could, actually, grow a non-patchy beard when he’s got a few more years on him.

“May I sit with you?” Cody asks. Shoveling his own metaphorical grave is so much easier with mixed signals after all. But he misses the older Obi-Wan. It’s not fair of him but he needs this.

The expected blush blooms on freckled cheeks. “Yes, of course!” is the eager reply, followed by more blushing.

It’s endearingly cute and Cody would like to chew on his bucket now.

The kid scoots over, wide eyed and expectant.

Gingerly, Cody lowers himself, ignoring the armor digging into his ass and thighs. And lets the silence stretch.

This, really, is what he came here for. A self-indulgent little break to catch his breath. The High General of a Systems Army is compromised and that fact has to remain eyes only to an exclusive handful of people. Only the Jedi Council knows out of obvious necessity. So it’s up to Cody to keep everything else running, keeping the admiralty in the dark because even teenaged Obi-Wan had said he’s got a bad feeling if they were to tell the brass. So they haven’t.

Usually, when flimsiwork and war horrors keep stacking up and expand into an avalanche, Obi-Wan and Cody sit together in silence, sharing a precious cup of real tea, being together and lending support and strength they can’t find for themselves but can always, always find for each other.

Selfishly he wants that strength from Obi-Wan now, the warmth of his body nearby. He’s already breathing easier.

The kid is looking at him curiously, but Cody chooses not to say anything. Instead he turns forward once more, watching the busy night markets of the station and the stars behind it. After a moment the kid does the same.

Shoulders slowly relax and the silence becomes comfortable.

[alisonwritesimagines]

You're Losing Me ~Simon Riley Imagine~

Summary: Simon falls in love with Johnny, only to unintentionally hurt you in the process.

Author's Note: This was inspired by @houseofoddballs trauma bond fic they made which got me listening to sad, angsty songs while writing this at work. Also, please let me know if ya'll want a part two for this.

Reader's Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST, like gut wrenching angst, cheating, unexpected pregnancy, slight happy ending for reader in the end in a way

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

He was your Simon. No one else's. You two had met when he was on leave and fell in love. So by definition, he was yours first. It sounds selfish but when you barely get to see him due to him going on missions on months on end, you'd understand why you want to hold onto him as much as you can.

You watched as your Simon walk in together with Soap once again. This was the third time this week where he had claimed he was busy only to be seen with Soap afterwards.

"Sorry I kept him long, bonnie," Johnny apologized again.

"It's okay. Glad you two had fun," you tell him.

You liked Soap. He was a good guy and he understood what your Simon had to go through during their time in the military. There was nothing wrong with him. Until he and your Simon got closer and closer. You noticed it from the way they interacted with each other.

But you would never say anything to them. You loved Simon. He was everything to you. You trusted him. But you began to notice something between the two. It was obvious even if they were trying to hide it. So if keeping your Simon meant that you had to stay silent, so be it.

“I’m going out,” Simon told you exactly at 5pm. You noticed each time he told you he was going out, it was always at 5pm.

“Again? Simon, I was hoping we can have a date night?” You tell him with a small frown. You couldn’t remember the last time you two had gone on a proper date with each other.

“Sorry love. I already got plans. How about I make it up to you tomorrow yeah? Just the two of us and we can do whatever you want,” Simon offers.

“Okay. That’s fine,” you nodded with a small smile.

“Don’t need to wait up on me,” Simon tells you. You nodded once again before he put on his coat to head out.

“I love you, Simon,” you tell him. Simon stared at you a little with a soft smile. But there was something else in that smile.

“I love you too,” Simon tells you before leaving your shared apartment.

Simon felt guilty. Leaving you alone for a night with Soap. He loved you both but he didn’t know if you’d be okay in getting into a relationship with both him and Soap. Had had to think of you first since you were there for him first before Soap.

“You okay, Lt?” Johnny asked. The two sat in the back of a bar at a booth, sitting next to each other.

“I just feel guilty,” Simon tells him.

“About?”

“I feel like I’m lying to Y/n,” Simon tells him.

“Simon-“

“But as much as I want her, I want you too. I need you both.”

“I’m here for you Simon. And you know she loves you too. I don’t want to hurt her either. She’s a good woman and you both need each other in a way,” Johnny said.

Johnny could at least acknowledge that even though he and Simon loved each other, he didn’t want to hurt you. You were kind and caring. Not to mention you were there first before Johnny.

Simon felt guilty, the more he began to drink with Johnny the guilt began to go away a little. The next thing he knew, he’s waking up next to Johnny naked in Johnny’s bed at four in the morning. Now he was more guilty and had dug his grave.

——

The next day, you knew what he did. And Simon knew that you knew. It wasn’t the fact he came home in the early morning or the silence that made him know that you knew. It was the hickeys on his neck that he didn’t hide. He was too busy to get back home to you first to even look at the hickeies Johnny gave him.

You lied in your bed crying as your heart was broken. Simon sat on the other side of the door, listening to your crying. It broke him or hear you cry. He never meant to hurt you but he did. The mental pain was far worse than the physical pain and he knew it.

“Love, can we talk?” Simon you.

“Ghost, leave me alone please,” you tell him. Simon got up the moment you used his code name. He didn’t want you to see him as Ghost. He was your Simon. Your Simon that you love. He wanted you to know that you didn’t loose him. He was here with you and begging for your forgiveness.

“Love. Please. Don’t call me that. Open the door please,” Simon begged as he tried to open the door.

“Ghost, I need a moment. Please. Just go to Soap if you need to,” you tell him, still hurt from what you saw this morning.

Simon’s heart broke from your words. Yes he was in love with Johnny but he didn’t want to run to Johnny whenever you two had a problem. Even before Johnny you two were able to work things out whenever you had a fight. But this was different. You didn’t use his code name in anger like you would do.

You used his code name as if you didn’t recognize him anymore.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay here until you’re ready to talk,” Simon tells you before walking to the living room.

You didn’t come out of the room till 9pm. When you walked out, you saw Simon sitting on the couch with red eyes. He looked over at you as you looked worse than he did. He got up before getting on his knees in front of you. You had never seen him this vulnerable before.

“Love, I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. Please,” Simon begged. He couldn’t let you leave him. He needed you. Although, he wasn't sure if he could say the same thing about you needing him.

“What do you want me to say, Ghost?” You asked him.

“Don’t call me that. I’m Simon. I’m your Simon,” he tells you as he stood up. He held your hands in his before kissing them. Trying to cling onto you as much as he could before you could slip away from his fingers any more than you already had.

“Are you?” You asked him.

“Yes. I’ll do anything to prove it to you,” Simon begged. You stayed quiet before walking to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

“Let me, love,” Simon said before going into the kitchen to make you something. You lied on the couch until Simon had food ready for you.

It was going well for you both for a month before Simon had to go on a mission. He spent his last couple of days, letting you know how much he loved you in the bed to remind you that he loved you and how much he needed you.

“I love you so much, Y/n,” Simon tells you.

“I love you too, Simon,” you tell him.

——

The moment Simon had told you that he was coming back, you were excited. You had news to tell him that you hoped he would choose you. It was selfish yes but you were human. It was a natural thing. And you hoped that your news would bring you two closer.

But the moment Simon came home, you knew something was wrong. Instead of giving you a kiss that would eventually lead into the bedroom like how he used to do, he kissed your cheek and told you he had to shower.

He had left his phone on his stand while he showered. You weren’t the type to look through his phone but you had to know. You unlocked his phone to see the messages he had sent to Johnny.

Simon 5:00pm: I miss you.

Simon 10:45pm: Can I see you Johnny?

Johnny 10:46pm: Are you sure?

Simon 10:47pm: I need you right now.

Simon 11:34pm: I need you. Can I come over?

Simon 1:05pm: I can pick you up before we head back to base.

Johnny 1:07pm: Sounds good.

Simon 3:08pm: Just got home. I love you.

Johnny 3:10pm: I love you too. Let me know when you want to meet up again.

You noticed the dates and times. They were all while you and Simon were supposedly patching things up before he had to go on a mission. How many times has he snuck off to see Johnny? How many times did he tell you that he loved you that now felt like lies? Were they together intimately when they were on their mission? The last text being more recent with Simon telling Johnny that he loved him hurt the most.

You were a fool. A goddamn beautiful and forgiving fool. But this was the pushing point.

———

The flat felt colder and somehow smaller. Simon noticed all of your little things were gone the moment he came back from the gym. He knew something was wrong. He rushed to the bedroom to find it tidied up but empty.

Your nightstand no longer had your stuff on or in it. Your side of the closet was empty. All his hoodies and shirts that you had taken from him was hung or neatly folded and put away. It was as if you were never here.

Simon noticed a letter on his nightstand making him walk over and sit on his side of the bed. He took the letter in his hand before opening it up.

Simon,

I know you choosing between me and Johnny will be hard on you. So let me make the decision for you, go ahead and choose him. I don’t think I can continue fighting for your love even though I would’ve done anything and everything for you. I love you Simon. But I can’t face anymore emotional neglect and keep waiting for you to return the love I’ve been giving you.

Am I hurt? Yes. Am I surprised you fell for Johnny? No. He can understand you in many ways I would never be able to understand. I just wished I was enough for you.

Please do not contact me or find me. I think it’s best for me to move on and let myself heal. I know it seems selfish but I need this.

Goodbye Simon.

- Y/n

Simon took out his phone and quickly called you. Maybe it wasn’t too late?

“We're sorry you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

His worse fear has come true due to his selfishness. You were gone from his life.

———

Five years have gone since Simon last heard you. He had told Johnny he needed some time before continuing their relationship together the moment you left him. Five years since you left him but not a day had gone by without Simon thinking about you.

Were you doing okay? Were you in a safe place? Have you moved on officially?

It was now his and Johnny ‘s leave and they had to grab some groceries for the week. While Simon had gone to grab a couple of stuff, Johnny made his way to another aisle before feeling someone bump into his legs. Soap looked down at the small child in front of him. His eyes widen as he saw the small boy who looked exactly like Simon minus his hair color.

“Sorry sir,” the little boy said as he backed up.

“You okay lad?” Soap asked him.

“Yes. I’m just trying to get those cookies,” the little boy said as he pointed at the package that was on a shelf higher than him.

“Oh uh. Here,” Soap tells him as he handed him the cookies.

“Thank you!” The little boy smiled before running off to a man who had appeared from the other end of the aisle.

“You ready, Johnny?” Simon asked him as he walked over to him. He put the food he grabbed into the cart before looking at Johnny.

“Get this Lt. I just met a kid who looked exactly like you,” Soap tells him.

“Doubt it,” Simon scoffed unconvinced.

“I swear it!”

Simon shook his head before his eyes landed on someone familiar. His eyes widen, making Johnny look over to see who he was staring at.

You stood at the end of the aisle with the man and the child that Johnny had helped out not too long ago. You were glowing in more ways than one. You looked happier and healthier than the last time the two men saw you.

Not to mention, you were pregnant and had a ring on your finger. Simon couldn’t help but grew jealous and angry. You should’ve been like that with him.

“Simon? Johnny?” You asked confused as you finally saw them. You and your family walked over to the two who stood at the other end of the aisle.

“Hey bonnie. You're looking good,” Johnny said surprised. Simon looked over at the small boy who did look exactly like him.

Simon didn’t know wether to be angry, sad, or disappointed in himself.

“Hi. Thanks. Are you two on leave?” You asked.

“At the moment yes,” Johnny said.

“That’s good. Simon, Johnny, this is my husband Mitch. Mitch, this is Simon and Johnny,” you introduce them. Simon looked at you heartbroken. He had selfishly hoped that one day you would come back to him or at least he would be able to see you and beg for your forgiveness.

“Nice to meet you both,” Mitch smiled as he offered a handshake. Simon and Johnny both shook his hand out of politeness.

“Is this lad yours?” Johnny asked you.

“Yes. This is my son, Levi. Levi, sweetie, these are two of mommy’s old friends. Can you say hi?” You asked him.

“Hi Mr. Johnny. Hi, Mr. Simon,” Levi said.

“How old are you?” Simon asked him. You frowned at his question. There was no doubt that Levi was his. Mitch rubbed your back a little to help calm you down.

“Five,” Levi tells him shyly.

“He’s five?” Simon asked you with sadden eyes. How long were you alone before Mitch came into your life?

“Yes. We need to get going. We’re on vacation here,” you tell him before taking Levi’s hand.

“Bye Johnny. Bye Simon,” you tell the two.

“Wait, Y/n,” Simon said as he quickly held your hand with your wedding ring on it. He let go the moment he felt the ring.

“Can we talk sometime?” Simon asked you.

“Simon-“

“Please.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sorry. Come on, Levi,” you tell your son as you lead him to the check out.

Mitch stayed behind before looking over at Simon.

“If you have any questions about Levi, here’s my number. Just message me and I can talk to you,” Mitch told Simon as he handed him a card.

“He’s not yours?” Simon asked for confirmation.

“She’s mentioned you both before and told me what happened. You have the right to know about your son,” Mitch told him before walking away from the two.

“Simon?” Johnny softly said to get his attention.

“Let’s go.” Johnny’s Simon tells him before walking away.

——

It took some convincing from your husband but just before you three left to go back home in America, you met with Simon at a café close to the airport.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Simon smiled a little as you sat across from him.

“Yeah,” you tell him awkwardly.

“How have you been?”

“Better. From what you saw, I got a husband and my kids,” you tell him, placing your hand on your stomach.

“Have you told Levi that he’s my son?”

“No. And I can wait to tell him when he’s older to understand,” you say. Simon nodded, knowing it would be too much for the poor kid to understand.

“I want to apologize to you.”

“Simon-“

“No. I hurt you. I told you that I would never hurt you and I did. I love you, Y/n. And I’m happy you moved on but I really did love you. I’m so sorry and I’m begging for your forgiveness,” Simon tells you.

“Simon, I forgive you. I can accept on who you are but it just hurt when I watched you fall in love with someone else after everything we’ve been through. I stayed here for you. I wanted to be there for you but it felt like I lost you,” you tell him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay now. I’ve healed and I have a family now who I love,” you tell him.

“You deserve it. You deserve everything good in this world,” Simon tells you. You smiled softly before handing him an address and a phone number.

“That’s our address and my phone number. If you want to visit Levi, you can. He is your son. I’ll let you know when I tell him that your his dad,” you tell him. Simon stared down at the address and phone number before looking at you. You were still beautiful in his eyes and the guilt of letting you slip away began to creep up on him.

“We could’ve had a good family right?”

“Yeah.”

“You were a wonderful experience,” Simon tells you.

“And you were everything,” you tell him before standing up and heading out the door.

[startanewdream]

Halloween

Written for the @greenhouse-seven's No-Tricks-Only-Treats event, and my prompt was Trick or Treat. Harry and Ginny, angst with the promise of better days, around 900 words.

*****

There’s a radiant smile on Ginny’s face when she comes home holding two bags filled with candies and chocolate bars.

“Wow,” says Harry, watching her pour the candies into a giant cauldron. “Did you get swapped with Ron?”

In answer, Ginny winks at him before pulling him closer and proceeding to kiss him in a way that leaves no room for identity questions.

“Wow,” he repeats again, breathless.

She laughs. “I got excited on the store. We need to be ready for trick-or-treat! After lunch, I’m leaving again to get the decoration.”

“Decoration?”

“Yes! We cannot be the only house on the street that isn’t decorated for Halloween.” She frows suddenly. “You do remember it’s Halloween in a couple days?”

Harry nods. He isn’t indifferent to Halloween — he’s seen the houses decorated every time he walked down the street this past week, especially at night, when they are lit with candles or buzzing with electricity. He didn’t know that Godric’s Hollow made such an event of Halloween, but he guesses it was to be expected, with the village famous amongst wizarding folk.

Only he didn’t know how it would make him feel.

Harry had been glad to move to Godric’s Hollow; he and Ginny had found the perfect cottage, a place that promised home the moment they had visited the first time, and it had been so for the last six months. He’d never had second thoughts, but this week…

“I’ve never celebrated Halloween,” he says, aware that’s only half the problem. “I mean, there were feasts at Hogwarts, but at home… this is new.”

“But before—”

“The Dursleys wouldn’t even acknowledge Halloween.”

“I wasn’t thinking about them.” Ginny huffles, lips pursued as always happens when the Dursleys are mentioned. “I meant before.” Her expressions softs. “Your parents celebrated with you.”

“I guess.”

She caresses his arm. “I’m sure they did. I’m thinking about a small chubby baby dressed as a pumpkin.”

Harry smiles for a moment. Ginny’s expression doesn’t shift; she still looks concerned.

“What else is troubling you?”

If it were anyone else, Harry would just shrug off. But since it’s Ginny, he allows himself to sink in the nearest chair.

“It’s Halloween. My parents died on Halloween, and… I don’t know why it’s bothering me…”

She sighs. “Well, they were your parents.”

“I mean, Halloween was never a problem before, I didn’t even know the date of their deaths exactly until Hagrid told me when I was eleven, and yet—it’s weighing on me.”

Ginny bites her lip. There’s no pity in her eyes, for which Harry feels grateful. With her right hand, she twirls her wand; behind him, in the kitchen, the oven is lit, and Harry knows she’s preparing tea for them. With her free hand, she runs her hand through his hair, very smooth.

“I am no expert,” she mumbles, “but it seems to be as if what you are feeling is grief.”

“They died over twenty years ago.”

“And you were too young to understand. Then you were at Hogwarts without a break—your Halloweens were always eventful—and now you have no other trouble, and we are here, twenty years later, where everything happened. It’s okay to have feels.”

“Not when it’s troubling us. You looked so excited.”

Ginny twirls her wand again and a cup of tea materializes in front of Harry. “Your troubles are my troubles, remember? We are together.”

He sips the tea. “Exactly. I… I want to do this with you. Decorate the house—Halloween, Christmas, Valentine’s Day if you want—”

“Singing dwarfs and pink-shaped hearts? No, please.”

Harry chuckles for a moment. “Every holiday.” He holds her hands, places a soft kiss on her wrists. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“And I wish you had told me sooner.” She offers him a smile. “We can lay low on Halloween. No parties or anything, just a quiet night. Visit their graves, leave some flowers.”

“This would be nice.” He closes his eyes for a moment, but instead of picturing the cemetery, he thinks about the happy family in the monument in the square; imagines them going out together every Halloween, sees that little boy growing up in a loving family with whom he would share Halloween costumes. The life that could have been. The life his parents wanted him to have. “But let’s open the house for any kid playing trick-or-treats.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Yes, but also… I think this is what my parents would want. And I want to celebrate my second first Halloween with you.”

She kisses him softly. “It will be also my first Halloween. There were no trick-or-treats on the Burrow.”

“That’s why you went over-the-top.”

“Guilty.”

He chuckles again. He enjoys the idea of sharing all firsts with Ginny, every little milestone in their relationship. There will be a moment for missing his parents this Halloween, and also a moment of hope for better days. Maybe even daydream about a small chubby baby with Ginny’s red hair and his green eyes, though this thought he will keep to himself for a while.

His smile is serene now.

“You know, Muggles dress up for Halloween. I could go with you and get a costume.”

“Oh.” Ginny giggles. “I already got mine. I’m going as a witch. Broomstick, wand and hat, the full set.”

“Well.” He touches her face, leans closer. “You’ve already bewitched me, Ginny.”

[icaruspendragon]

im sorry to ask but i dont know what else to do—how did you do it how did you dig yourself out because it feels like i am choking on dirt and people keep shoveling it onto me and i miss her so much and i dont know how to make this feeling stop. she was my best friend. ive never lived in a world without her before. how did you do it. how are you doing it

grief is so hard and so heavy when we first meet it. it feels like all our arms will ever hold for the rest of forever. and it is, in a sense. once we pick it up, we never really set it down. not fully.

and I don't think it gets lighter, I think we somehow, impossibly, get stronger.

there's lots of metaphors for grief. that's one of them. another one I like to use is that it feels like you're in the grave with them. like lazarus. like yourself. waiting for someone to raise you from the dead. to raise you both.

I've learned a lot about crawling out of the grave. more than I would have ever wanted to learn. like how emptiness is actually quite heavy. or how to pretend like you feel half-alive. but I think the most important thing I've learned is that somedays, we inexplicably end up back in it. and that sucks.

because we just spent months clawing our way through the bugs and the earth. because our soldier-hands have finally breached the surface. because the sun is finally caressing our hell-fresh faces. because for the first time in months we feel like we can finally breath. and then, suddenly, we're right back in the terrible thick of it.

those days make it feel like I'm sisyphus and grave dirt is my rock. or like I'm prometheus and the darkness is my eagle.

but then it's tuesday.

which is to say my brother died on my 25th birthday, a monday. and that day is now a memory that's fuzzy around the edges. single snapshots I know are connected, but I couldn't tell you how. I remember my mother standing in my bedroom and tears and family and phone calls and cleaning my living room because I didn't know what to do with my hands. I remember going to my grandmothers and my phone vibrating off the table and leaving to go get coffee because I couldn't sit still. I remember joking, trying to joke. trying to do whatever I could to make sense of that impossible day. I remember checking my phone and reading and rereading the messages, a mixed bag of congratulations for surviving another year and condolences that my brother didn't, I remember not knowing how to respond to any of them. so I didn't. I remember being surrounded by so many people doing nothing but extending love and kindness to me and never feeling more alone. the world was ending and I was alone. I thought that day would go on forever.

but it didn't.

it ended, as all things do. monday was over and my first day as an only child was done.

and suddenly it was tuesday. and everything was different but also exactly the same.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead. I was so heavy when I woke up that first tuesday. so heavy and confused. I thought the world had ended. it surely felt like it had. but it hadn't. because the world couldn't have ended on monday.

not if it was tuesday.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead but the world wasn't ending. monday should have been our demise, but it wasn't. and it hasn't. and it won't. because just as sure as we have mondays, we'll always have tuesdays.

that's something I've taken a strange comfort in, knowing that we'll always have tuesdays.

the feeling never stops. but I think that's okay. because you're only feeling that way because there was love first. and as much as what I felt on that first tuesday hurts, as much as it suffocates, as much as it consumes, I'd take the hurt and the suffocation and the consumption because the love I felt first will always, always be worth it.

tuesdays will always be worth it.

like yeah, if I loved less, it wouldn't hurt this bad. but I don't want to live in a world where I have to love less. where I was loved less.

I'll take the pain. I'll take the grave days. I'll take the rock. I'll take the eagle. I'll take apocalyptic, earthshaking mondays. I'll take every last wretched bit because goddamn what a miracle it is to love so bad it hurts this big.

I hold that love, his love for me and my love for him, a love that's now become our love in the cage of my ribs while I'm in the cage of the grave. and I dig.

it's monday and I dig.

I dig.

and then tuesday comes.

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

05 Collaring

Zhongli x Reader / NSFW / SAGAU / Set after the events of Fontaine Archon Quest / Not Canon-Compliant / Reader is Creator Primordial God 2.0 / Mentions of romanticized death and suicidal ideation / Starts out light & kinky and ends up dark and angsty as with everything I write

"Your Grace?" The old god's voice trembled as he approached you.

Stagnant emotions stirred to life in the depths of his amber eyes. There you stood in front of him, like a resurrected phantom from his distant past, familiar yet so unrecognizable.

A warm smile spread over your lips. Out of all the faces in Teyvat, you looked forward to seeing his the most.

Zhongli had always been your favorite of the seven Archons. From the moment you laid eyes on him, he had a certain hold over you. That had always been the case for the past four years. It was no different now that you were no longer separated by a screen.

The moment you spawned, curled up in that oversized marble throne up in the sky over Teyvat, they all felt it. Memories flooded into your head, causing you to nearly vomit from the overload. Just your luck. Instead of some unknown adventurer, the role you had been thrust into was that of the game's final antagonist, the Creator of Teyvat, which had been asleep until you appeared.

"You've finally returned." He said gravely.

"You don't sound happy to see me, Morax." You took a seat in the lacquered chair in front of him, sipping on the tea he had brought you. "Or should I call you Zhongli now, since you've abandoned the post given to you?"

You couldn't let him onto the fact that you weren't the same person who had given him his divine title, not without ensuring your own safety first. You might be down bad for this man, but your braincells were still alive and well. Out of the seven archons the original Creator appointed, only two remained. Most have given away their gnosis and one even managed to destroy their divine seat and return sovereignty to a dragon. It was needless to say, Celestia's control over them had been slipping long before you stepped in.

"I have not, your Grace. My exit was necessary for the people of Liyue. If I did not leave, I fear the erosion I am subjected to under the Heavenly Principles will cause undue harm to them, which I cannot bear to see."

"If you wanted to leave, why are you still mingling with them disguised as a funeral consultant, hm?" You couldn't help but prod him a little. "You're quite attached to them, aren't you?"

"I am." He admitted after a pause. "Anything will grow on you given enough time."

"I guess we've grown distant then. You even threw away the gnosis I gave you."

"Forgive me, your Grace. There was no indication that you would ever return otherwise."

"I'd understand if we're speaking about the Anemo Archon, but you? I never took you for the impulsive sort. What would you have done if the Cryo Archon failed? I left you with all of my wishes and you gambled everything on an experiment to bring me back."

The ex-archon drew in a deep breath. "I don't expect to escape the consequences. Punish me as you see fit."

"Oh, I'll punish you." The corner of your lips curled slightly. "Not too harshly though. You're my favorite afterall."

You didn't miss the ripple of shock that lit up his eyes momentarily. The Creator he remembered would never have said such a thing. Maybe you should tone the favoritism down a bit. Morax wasn't dumb. If he found out the Creator had been hijacked, you might actually be in trouble.

Well, that part didn't exactly pan out as you imagined. You were spending way too much time with him even though you deliberately told yourself to avoid him when you could. Even with the original Creator's memories to skim over, you were ultimately not the same person. Of course you would slip up, repeatedly at that. He kept popping up in places you happened to be at unannounced, drifting into his spot beside you like you had willed it to happen in your head. It was like all the forces in Teyvat, the earth, the wind, the rain, everything was giving its utmost efforts to fulfill some sort of unspoken demand of yours.

"Are you following me?" You finally couldn't take it anymore and blurted out your suspicions. "You're like my cat. I go to the bathroom, she's there. I go to the kitchen, she's there. Bedroom, there. She's like sticky rice. I know she can't leave me alone because she's obsessed with me. Are you obsessed with me?"

Zhongli stood there awkwardly, trying to articulate an explanation for his incessant appearances. He didn't even get the chance to process that you were talking about a cat that didn't even exist in Teyvat, but rather in your homeworld.

"It certainly seems that way, doesn't it, your Grace? I assure you though, I was simply on my way to purchase some tea."

Maybe he was telling the truth. Two things could be true at once. There must be a reason, you stubbornly thought. This wasn't normal!

You had to get down to the bottom of this, or you'll definitely drive yourself crazy. As a logical person tossed into a fantastical place like Teyvat, you were sorely out of your element. Trying to exercise common sense here was like trying to measure water with a ruler. It made no sense, but you persisted. You'd conduct experiments and find answers.

As the Creator of Teyvat, the first descender, your will was said to be powerful enough to rival the world. Your feats included sealing away its original sovereigns and rearranging its landscape. You also created life and implemented the heavenly principles that gave order and structure to the world you willed into existence. All who belonged to Teyvat succumbed to your will to some extent.

Your gaze landed on a stray cat pacing back and forth under a food stall. There was a morsel at the edge of the counter. You narrowed your eyes on it, focusing all your attention at it.

"Fall." You uttered under your breath.

A gust of wind knocked the inconspicuous piece of food off the edge, sending it spiraling to the ground. The cat picked it up and happily sprinted off. You were left speechless.

Once, it could be a coincidence. Twice, it might still be a coincidence. Third time, it had to be divine intervention.

After the lucky cat had its fill, you accepted the uncanny possibility that as the Creator god of Teyvat, you might have some say in what happens in it. Maybe, just maybe… you were the reason Zhongli couldn't leave you alone.

If you liked him a normal amount, he would have no trouble escaping your gravitational pull, but your love for him was a little bit extra. If you wanted him to kiss you badly enough, he would probably have to. Whether he trips and falls on you at exactly the right angle for your lips to accidentally meet or he suddenly gets an unreasonably strong urge to push you against a wall and smother you was more-or-less a matter of execution.

Zhongli was a patient soul. His kiss was gentle and unrushed like he was, savoring the taste and sensation of your lips as he caressed them. At that moment, your respective identities melted away. His arms held your body against his chest, his hands cradled the back of your head, and his fingers buried themselves in your hair. The streets of Liyue faded from your ears. All you could hear was your rapidly beating heart.

The kiss repeated itself inside your head for hours on end, stealing your sleep even after you had retreated into your bed. It hadn't happened out of nowhere since you willed it to happen, but the question still plagued you. Did you take advantage of him? Could that kiss even be considered a kiss? How much intention was invested on his end and if you weren't the Creator god of Teyvat, would a kiss have ever happened between you? Probably not, you dejectedly concluded.

"I'm not the original Creator, Zhongli." You finally confessed to him after months of indulgence and pretending. He hummed softly as you drew circles on his skin.

"Your Grace…" Zhongli gazes at you with overflowing adoration. "I've known there was something different about you from the moment I laid eyes on you."

"You did?" You asked, shifting your weight as you laid on him. "What gave it away?"

The two of you had definitely gotten a lot more intimate following that first kiss. You felt at ease in his arms and so you found yourself constantly glued to him. His presence was magnetic to you and yours to him.

"You do a rather poor job of concealing your true self, I must say." He chuckled.

"I was half-expecting you to kill me or something as soon as you knew I wasn't the original Creator." You closed your eyes, letting your face rest against the curve of his neck as his fingers combed through your hair. The last of your worries were expelled with his words of reassurance.

"Now why would I do something so uncalled for? You've done nothing to warrant such harsh retaliation."

"I don't know. What if you saw me as a threat to Liyue? I saw what the Tianquan Ningguang did to the Lord of the Vortex when he reared his head. She definitely learned that from somewhere."

Despite Rex Lapis being dead, you could still feel the intense residual devotion this place had for their past archon. You wondered if he felt the same reverence for the Creator before you arrived. From your inherited memories, the original Creator had a habit of dropping pointy things from the sky.

"I will not harm you, nor will I ever allow the others to." He whispered, his every word carrying weight.

Upon arrival in Teyvat, you had made your rounds visiting the other nations and meeting with the other archons. To their disappointment, you never stayed for long. Your favoritism was undeniable. You had practically taken up root in Liyue. The only place you skipped was Fontaine, since it was probably a good idea to avoid the resident Hydro Sovereign in case he opted to take out his justice on you. You wondered if he'd believe you if you said you weren't the original Creator who sealed away his kind.

"Of course you won't." You murmured against his ear. "Even though I'm not the same person, I'm still the Creater and you're still an archon. You're bound by my will. If I tell you to go left, you're not able to go right."

"I am not a puppet, your Grace." He disagreed. "Neither is your will a leash."

"Kiss me." You ordered him. "Let's see if you've got it in you to disobey me."

He raised a brow at your choice of a challenge. A couple seconds of silence passed between the two of you. You began to wonder if Zhongli really could resist your will. Your eyes fell on his lips. They were relaxed, not pressed tightly against each other. Your thoughts drifted off to the handful of times he kissed you. His lips were always gentle whenever they brushed against yours. What would it be like he were swept up in a bit of fervor? Would he draw your lips harshly between his own, or would he part them impatiently so that he could slip his tongue in?

Your throat suddenly became drier than the deserts of Sumeru. A faint blush began to spread over your cheeks. Zhongli swallowed, but didn't move in the slightest. You were already beginning to feel hot and restless. Who were you kidding? The one with the figurative collar around their neck was obviously you. You knew that since before you got sucked into this game.

"You're really not going to kiss me." You realized.

"I am not immune to you any more than anyone else residing in Teyvat. I simply have self-restraint." He calmly says, which gets your blood boiling.

"Fine, you've got self-restraint. I don't!"

You playfully bit the man on the lip before kissing him with vengeance. He moaned softly as he endured your incense ministrations.

"Well demonstrated." He chuckled when you finally pulled away.

"Tease me again and I'll put a collar on you." You warned.

"If you wish to do so, it's within your divine right." He replied with utmost seriousness.

You treated him so differently from the original Creator. If he didn't occasionally remind himself that there were irrefutable differences between you and him, he feared he'd forget his place. You were most likely joking, but perhaps a collar was what he needed.

"Should I?" You continued on, unaware of what was going on in the archon's mind. "Imagine the esteemed Mr Zhongli, being dragged along the streets of Liyue in a collar and leash…"

"Perhaps we could forego the leash?" He smiled at you, unfazed as if what you had just imagined was nothing out of the ordinary.

You looked into the old god's eyes. In his unwavering gaze you could read everything he didn't say, the depth of his devotion to you, all the outrageous things you could ever think of asking from him and the resounding answer to all of them.

"I'll allow it." You relented.

As the primoridal god of Teyvat, you had to keep your archon in line. Since you said you'd punish him, you had to see to it that he was properly disciplined.

That very evening, you dragged the poor archon to a number of shops, jewelry stalls, and even a petshop. You settled on a black choker with fine gold threading that formed an intricate pattern. It was simplistic and went along well with his current suit. A single cor lapis pendant dangled from the center.

Currently, that pendant was caught between your lips as you straddled him. Since he said it was your divine right to do as you pleased with him, you wanted to see how far he'd let you go with that statement. The silk choker really did look good on him, especially after you've removed every other piece of clothing on his body. Your fingers danced along the edge of it, hooking underneath it and abruptly twisting it so that it tightened around his neck.

"Your Grace—" He coughed from lack of air.

With Zhongli's eyes blindfolded and his arms tied, he couldn't predict your movements nor interrupt you. He was completely at your mercy. You let go of the choker, returning the ability to breathe to him. As if to apologize for the distress caused, you leaned in and planted a kiss at his neck, the tip of your tongue gliding along the skin under the piece of fabric. He swallowed and panted, face flushed.

"See, it suits you." You cooed, tracing his collar with a finger. "Don't you dare take it off. If you do, I promise I'll get that leash. Maybe even a whip."

Zhongli winced in pain as you bit into his neck, drawing the heated skin between your lips. It'd be fine even if you left an unsightly mark. The choker would simply cover it, along with the faint lines caused by your tightening it around his neck.

At times, he wished they had lasted a little longer. All of them had faded too quickly. The burden of your love was quite heavy, but it was one he considered himself lucky to have been chosen to bear. You had chosen him to experience those moments with, each of them preserved in his memories like gilded gems.

In all his thousands of years of existence, the old god never foresaw a day where the missing primordial Creator he had been waiting so long for would return as a completely different person. Furthermore, he could never have forseen this new Creator would be so enamored with him. While he was reasonably honored to receive this disproportionate favor, he had initially suggested you visit the other archons more instead of spending all your time in Liyue with him. That would be fair, he told you. In hindsight, after your departure, he was glad you never listened. Few things in life were fair. Your untimely departure was far from that. The things you were killed for, none of them were your doing, but nobody believed you except him. Zhongli had paid the ultimate price for taking your side, for trying to keep you for just a moment longer. It was barely enough time to utter a proper goodbye. You were gone, just as abruptly as you had arrived.

If you had not given him so much of your precious time, what would he recount and reminisce over now that you're gone? What memories would sustain him until he reaches the end of time?

All he could do was continue living, witnessing, waiting, just as he did the first Creator. Perhaps one day you'd return to him. Perhaps you wouldn't, and yet again, it'd only be a stranger. Perhaps he'd tell them about you, just as he told you about the one that came before you.

His heart would constrict painfully at the thought and he would momentarily lose the ability to breathe just like when you would tighten the choker around his neck. He often found himself absent-mindedly toying with the collar. It remained snugly around his neck like he promised you. It was such a simple request, demanded so casually of him. To you, it might’ve been a joke. Perhaps you had long forgotten about that silk choker you picked out for him. Maybe you had forgotten about him altogether, along with this place called Teyvat. But he couldn't. Even after you had long departed from Teyvat, he had never taken it off. A few times he had to reinforce it with adeptal arts in order to keep it from disintegrating into dust over time. He couldn't possibly allow such a precious gift from you part from him out of carelessness. It was all he had left to remind him of the brief time you spent with him.

He couldn't quite place why of all the memories you had planted in him, those of nearly suffocating by the choker in your hand had seared themselves deepest. Was it because those were the rare moments he felt the sweet release of death was nearly within his grasp? Thinking of you instilled a similar sensation, but it was never the same as when you inflicted him with it. As someone who had lived for so long, who had orchestrated his own death and staged his own funeral, it was a strange obsession to have.

For those who live too long, the faces of those who have come and gone continue to haunt their memories. Even so, he never regretted meeting you, loving you, and eventually losing you. Should the day ever come that he forgets you, or the collar you gifted him finally turns to dust, he only hoped that your memories of him would continue to glimmer like gold.

[imagines--galore]

Since you're asking for prompts,I was envisioning Will confessing to the reader in the same way George confessed to Charlotte in Queen Charlotte (the "my heart calls your name" confession) and thought it would suit Will really well!! Like maybe reader puts herself in danger by trying to save Will or something idk

Pairing: Will Turner x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None. A/N: I just ADORE Will Turner so much :3 and I love Charlotte the series as well so this was the PERFECT blend! Sorry for any mistakes folks! Also If you read this please please tell me what you think!!!

Your head was pounding. And not from drinking too much ale. You were sure of it.

Blinking your eyes, you were met with an unfamiliar ceiling. Normally you would wake in a hammock onboard the Black Pearl, with the gentle sway of the ship welcoming you to another day.

But everything was steady and there was no creaking or moaning of the ship as it sailed.

Your eyes blinked once more, to clear them from any remaining sleep. Slowly your brain began to recall the last thing you remembered.

Davy Jone's crew.

A fight on an island.

Fleeing to the Black Pearl.

The Kraken attacking the ship.

The entire crew fighting valiantly to save themselves and their ship.

Huge tentacles rising from the mysterious depths of the waters you had traveled for so long.

Ready to kill.

To drag someone to a watery grave.

To drag Will to his doom.

Will!

You sat up with a loud gasp, eyes frantically darting from one end of the unfamiliar room to the other before finally landing on a familiar figure that had only just stepped into the room.

Will Turner stood at the threshold, holding a bowl of what could only be food. The scent of it wafted through the air and your stomach grumbled in protest at being denied nourishment.

Yet you could not move. Could only stare at the man as he stood before you.

"I see I managed to save you then." You finally said, feeling a little uncomfortable under his gaze. He was looking at you as if you were the very moon that hung in the sky. Which was utterly ridiculous because that was how he saw Elizabeth.

"And that we managed to escape in one piece." You raised a hand to your head, only to be greeted by a bandage wrapped around the entirety of it. A slight twinge of pain against your left temple made you aware of where exactly your injury was. "So, what did I miss? After I passed out?"

Whatever emotional turmoil Will had been battling he pushed it aside in favor of walking forward and handing the bowl to you. As you began to spoon the watery broth to your mouth, he pulled up a chair to sit beside your bed.

"After you passed out, we all piled into the lifeboats. I managed to haul you in as well." He paused almost looking at you expectantly. You raised an eyebrow at him. "And you expect me to thank you for saving me?" You asked in a dry tone, to which he rolled his eyes before continuing.

"Elizabeth was the last of us to get on. But Jack.........Jack stayed. To act as diversion for the kraken."

Your eyes widened and you dropped your spoon into your nearly empty bowl. "He...what?" You whispered, sounding just as in disbelief as you felt. Sorrow passed over Will's feature as he nodded gravely. "Jack's dead, Y/n." He confirmed, to which you took a shuddering breath and closed your eyes, before slowly falling back against the wall behind you.

The both of you sat in silence, with Will reaching out to gently and almost hesitantly placing a hand on top of yours as a sign of comfort. "I'm sorry, y/n. I knew you were close." Tears pricked your eyes but you didn't let them fall. Though you did give a small nod. "As close as a person can be with someone who took them under their protection."

That had been the extent of your relationship with Jack. Your families were old friends, and even related by blood somewhere down the line. And when you had decided to travel the seas as a pirate, Jack had been the one who agreed to let you sail with him. Not many pirates were happy having a female presence onboard, but you had proved yourself enough times that it no longer bothered them.

You had been with Jack through thick and thin. Through fire and water. You had been the only one on his side, along with Gibbs, when Barbossa had mutinied against him.

If it weren't for Jack, you wouldn't have realized your dream of becoming a pirate. And if it hadn't been for Jack, you would never have met Will Turner.

When you had first met Will, him and Jack had just arrived at Tortuga to look for a ship to go after Will's beloved Elizabeth. You had been slightly mistrustful towards him at first, and also a little jealous since Jack seemed to be spending all his time with him. But given how easily Will had befriended the rest of the crew, despite his own mistrust of pirates, you had taken to forming an unlikely acquaintanceship.

You were the best swords woman of your age, and it showed when you would take to the deck and practice every single day.

                                          ————————–

Then one day, your sword clashed with Will's.

Your eyes met over the joined blades, gauging the silent question in his. A smirk was your response before you stepped to the side and raised your sword in response.

And so a battle of wits and skill began.

Your swords clashed, your feet danced, your gazes never wavered and neither did your determination.

The entire deck was your practice ground, and the rest of the crew had gotten well out of the way when they had seen the both of you begin to duel. The both of you used every prop to gain the upper hand. But never once did either of you try a dirty trick. And while there had been a sense of pride behind each fell of your swords, slowly they began to grow playful. As did your words.

Back and forth, back and forth. With your swords and with your teasing insults and quips. Smiled full of passion and energy playing about your lips as you both danced to a tune only you could here.

It finally stopped when Jack called out to you. Neither of you yielded, or allowed the other to gain the upper hand. So, with sweat lining your brows and barely able to get a word out with how you both panted for breath, you were only able to smile at one another and say.

"To be continued good sir?" You had said in a slightly mocking yet playful tone to which he had grinned and given you a little bow before speaking.

"As the lady wishes."

But you never did pick back up on the match.

Instead the both of you would simply find each other and talk. He spoke of his life growing up as an orphan, with no money and no family. You had spoken of your own struggles, and slowly, without you realizing, in the weeks that it took you to finally catch up to the Black Pearl, you were made aware of your true feelings for Will.

You would watch him as he interacted with the rest of the crew, and on more then one occasion Jack had caught you simply smiling at him. He had tried to discourage you, telling you of who Will really loved and how nothing could be done about it.

Especially not when he was in love with Elizabeth.

You knew of the consequences, but you simply enjoyed his company too much to just stop spending time with him. And while you knew you were setting yourself up for a lot of heartache, it didn't stop you from forming a companionship with Will.

Although that too came to an abrupt and almost cruel end.

To cut a long story short, Elizabeth was rescued and Barbossa was defeated. Jack had his ship and his crew.

And Will returned home to marry Elizabeth.

Whatever friendship had been blossoming between the both of you had fizzled out the moment Elizabeth had been rescued. And though you knew you were setting yourself up for heartbreak, you did not comprehend just how much it would hurt. How his lack of presence would effect you. He hadn't even offered a proper goodbye when he had left. You had thought that perhaps as a friend he would do you the courtesy, but it was not so.

He never looked back at you.

Not once.

                                          ————————–

And so you decided to put him out of your mind. But never your heart. You couldn't put him out of your heart and it only made you miss him more.

So when he returned, this time for the purpose of saving Elizabeth once more, you were cold towards him. Cold and distant, even when he had approached you to speak with you. Your heart had cursed you for not speaking with him, but you were still too hurt over his dismissal of you the last time that you had no desire to forgive him.

All that vanished though, when Davy Jones appeared and agreed to take Will aboard the Flying Dutchman. You knew it was Jack's doing, that he had a plan in place, but that didn't stop you from stepping forward and volunteering to go along with him.

Out of love? Out of desperation? Out of your compulsion to protect the people you cared about? You did not know.

Jack had tried to protest, but Davy Jones accepted.

And so you found yourself standing beside Will, watching as the Black Pearl sailed away, leaving you onboard a ship of dangerous pirates, and a man who did not know how much you loved him.

At every turn, you tried your best to help him. You had learned long ago when to keep your head down and simply follow orders. Will was not a pirate. He picked up every chance he could to fight back. And when he discovered his father was one of the crew members, you had comforted him. And when he had been punished for his mistake with lashings, you had been the one to tend to him, cleaning his wounds and wiping away the blood. You had held his hand as he twitched from the pain, had stroked his hair when he needed a comforting touch.

Your mind screamed at you, at how you were setting yourself for heartbreak once more. But your heart rejoiced. You knew he was doing whatever he was to help Elizabeth, to save her, but you couldn't help it. All those feelings you had buried came rushing back to the top.

Your escape from the Flying Dutchman as well as the Kraken was pure luck. However, by your second encounter with the Kraken, when it came after Jack, your luck had run out.

You had been trying your best to avoid the lashing tentacles, as they grabbed man after man and threw them into the sea. You had successfully avoided capture, but only barely. Your eyes had frantically searched the deck, looking for a way to avoid yet another tentacle when you had spotted Will.

With a tentacle gliding his way to swipe him off his feet and into the water below.

You had screamed his name, had felt yourself leap into action. You ran, throwing yourself forward to push him out of the way. And you succeeded. Only for the tentacle, meant for Will, to hit your body with a force that had your teeth rattling and for you to go flying.

A flash of pain was all you felt at the side of your head. A voice calling out your name in utter alarm and despair was all you remembered.

And then darkness.

                                          ————————–

Presently, you blinked away your tears as you set aside the bowl and looked around. It was the first time that you noticed you were in some sort of bed built into the wooden walls. The air smelled heavy and musty. Familiar even.

"Are we at Tia Delma's hideout?" You asked, to which you received a nod in response. "How many of us survived?" Will pursed his lips at her question, and you knew the answer could not be good. "Only a few. Gibbs made it. As did the both of us. And Elizabeth." Of course she did, you thought to yourself.

Wanting to change the subject you raised a hand to your head to press your fingers tenderly against your covered temple. "How long have I been asleep?" The thinning of Will's lips told you just how displeased he was with the answer he gave. "Three days. You were barely alive when we reached Tia Delma. She took one look at you and took you to this room. Working on you for hours before finally letting me in to see you." He admitted, sounding almost angry at the woman.

"Remind me to thank her later." You said with a small smile, as you leaned your head back against the wall and sighed. Your hand came up to fiddle with the skull and cross gold necklace that rested at your throat. "I can't believe he's gone." You whispered, feeling the loss of your friend deeply.

"Elizabeth is in pieces because of it."

You blinked. "Why would she be in pieces over Jack's death?" You asked. You had suspicions that the girl never really liked Jack. There was always some sort tension between the both of them.

"Because she loved him."

Will's words had you blinking in utter surprise.

"What?"

He frowned at the confusion on your face. "I thought you knew?" You rolled your eyes. "Oh yes Will, Elizabeth and I sit together for tea and gossip about our love lives." The statement did make him crack a little smile before he continued.

"Well now you know. Elizabeth loved Jack."

"But I thought you loved her. Weren't you going to marry her?" You asked, allowing your curiosity to show. With all that had happened, neither of you had been able to properly sit and speak. Not when your lives had been in constant danger by either cannibals, or mad pirates or mythical creatures or the Company.

So many people were out to kill all of you.

"I was. I thought I loved her. But I realized, when we got back home, that it was nothing but infatuation. She was the one who rescued me when I was found adrift. And we grew up together. So, I allowed my boyhood feelings to grow into something that was never meant to be." He paused for a moment. "Those feelings are all gone now. And I was glad she found someone to love. For a little while." He added sadly, glancing in the direction the door where Elizabeth was probably sitting beyond. You did too, almost expecting Jack to come swaggering in with his usual land-legs and a bottle of ale in his hand.

"I never expected Jack of all people to die. He seemed almost immortal." You admitted.

"Well he proved he was a mortal man and met his doom. And you would've followed him too, if Tia Delma hadn't been here." You glanced at him curiously, not understanding the tone of his voice. He was glaring at you, his eyes almost stormy. "How could you be so reckless? What you did was extremely dangerous, even for you Y/n."

"You mean saving your life?" A frown creased your brow. "I did what I did to save you Will. And if that is a crime then take me to the brig." You snapped with a roll of your eyes. "And aren't people usually grateful to those who save them?"

He glared at you. "Not at the expense of their own life. The Company is taking over the seas, we need every good pirate we can get."

Anger coursed through your veins. "Oh so thats why you were worried about me? Because you didn't want to loose a good pirate. Its all about strategy with you isn't it?" All your past hurt and heartache was beginning to simmer under the surface, and if you weren't careful you would probably say something you would regret. But you didn't care.

His nostrils flared. "How could you think its simply because of that? Do you truly believe I am that shallow?" He spoke angrily to which you gave a mocking nod. "Of course I do. I mean why else would you ignore me once you gained my friendship?"

"I never-"

But you cut him off. "I thought we were friends Will. But the moment you rescued Elizabeth you ignored me as if you never knew me. As if we didn't spend weeks in each other's company. And then you came back, and I was there with you on the Dutchman, but as soon as you saw Elizabeth, once more you pushed me aside. I am not something you can use whenever you desire before putting it aside to gather dust. And even when I save your life, when I rescue you, you say such things to me?" Your voice had slowly started to rise in octave with each passing word. It was a good thing no one was within earshot to hear you.

Will looked angry with every word that came out of your mouth. "You put yourself in grave danger, Y/n. You always have no regard for your own life or your own safety and it worries me."

"And why should that bother you? Or even worry you for that matter. What am I to you?"

"I only wish to help you Y/n. To protect you-" He reached out with his hand almost as if he were about to touch you but stopped.

You turned your head away. "I did not ask for your protection Will, I do not need it. Why would you wish to protect me?"

"Because-" But you didn't allow him to finish.

"Is it because you think of me as some damsel in distress?" He shook his head.

"No Y/n-" Once again he was interrupted from saying his piece.

"Or you do not believe me to be capable of doing anything."

His voice was almost pleading, imploring you to listen to him. "Y/n-"

But you barely heard him, allowing your hurt and pain to blind you as you spoke. "Why? Why do you wish to protect me so?"

"Because I love you!"

His deceleration came out in a shout. One that echoed in your ears and had your mouth parting in utter surprise, while you stared at him in utter disbelief.

For his part, Will had stood from his chair, hands buried in his hair as he began to pace the length of the small room, still speaking in an almost frenzied and desperate manner.

"From the mo-" His voice broke as he met your gaze. "From the moment I saw you." Suddenly he was sitting in front of you on the bed, clutching at your hand in an almost desperate manner as he continued. "I have loved you from the very second I saw you." His words washed over you like a warm ocean breeze.

"I love you desperately Y/n." His voice was trembling, every word sounding almost broken as he spoke. "My heart calls your name. And I cannot loose you. I cannot." With each word his hands raised to cup your face, only to bring you forward and press your lips to his in a desperate kiss.

And you returned it.

You felt your heart heal and break at the same time as he brushed a hand against your bandages. Pulling back from the kiss, he rested his forehead against your own. "I cannot do this without you, Y/n." He admitted to which you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and embraced him with all your strength, hoping to pour all of your love for him in that one simple gesture. "I suppose it is a good thing I love you as well then." You whispered against his neck, to which he let out a small slightly tearful laugh. "I am aware of that. Given how you whispered it to me when you were slipping in and out of consciousness."

You pulled back, staring at wide eyed at his grinning face. "What?!"

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” He gently brushed his knuckles against your cheek, a gesture that made you blush. Your hand lifted to trace along the side of his face, enjoying how he closed his eyes, as if to savour your touch.

“I will never leave you Will. Just as long as you promise to never leave me.” You said, still stroking his face.

He nodded in response. “I promise.” His hand found the back of your head, urging you forward to close the remaining distance between the both of you.

This time the kiss lasted longer then just a few seconds.

[esther-dot]

Jonsa Reunion

Safe and Sound 1k (I just have to highlight that this was posted in 2014)

Sansa escapes Baelish and finds her way to Castle Black.

Kiss of Undeath ficlet by @haraways

Sansa brings Jon back with a kiss.

Without You I Am Nothing 1k by @asbestosmouth

Castle Black is monochrome, but Sansa blazes like the fires of Rh'llor. Jon cannot help but burn.

Gifsets: Jonsa Hug by @joanna-lannister, Jonsa Hug by @c-sand, The Girl in Grey, Jonsa Hug 1, 2 by @kitnjon

Art: Jonsa Hug, Jonsa Hug by @vierverdeen, Jonsa Hug by @themarmic

Jon Comes Back Wrong

grave-dirt 3k by @charmtion

The edge of the world. The yawning dark. In his chest, a strange sluggish beat.

back in the pulse 2k WIP by @chispas-and-broken-bindings

(Who are you?) A dead man. A monster. The mistake of many and one. (And what have you lost?) Everything. (And what have you found?) You. (And what will you do with me?) Protect you. Always.

Made of Echos and Ice 1k by @thewolvescalledmehome

Ever since coming down from the Eyrie, Sansa has had the same dream. A wolf with white paws pacing in the snow. When she learns of the betrayal at the Wall, Sansa decides to do something about her dream.

i fall to pieces (when i'm with you) 70k by usuallysunny

"Go North. Only North. Jon is Lord Commander at the Castle Black. He'll help you." He'd had good intentions, this broken shadow of a man who used to be Theon, and he couldn't have known. Sansa finds a Lord Commander at Castle Black. He has steel-grey eyes, her father's eyes, and a dark beard framing a strong jaw, and he looks and sounds and moves like Jon... But he's not Jon.

Always Her ficlet by @temporal-tempest

Jon Snow came back darker, unreachable until her hand touched his face. This is what happens when you threaten that which has become the only warmth in a dark heart.

At Castle Black

My eyes were wide open 10k by @eruherdiriel

She hesitates, then reaches for his free hand, his other still tangled in Ghost’s fur. Their palms meet, hers warm against his chilly one, and the relief that rushes through him at her touch almost makes him close his eyes and forget the throbbing pain. “Do you remember what happened?” All he recalls are knives in the dark and cold, bitter cold. * It is in dreams that Jon begins to remember who he is.

Kisses Remembered, Kisses Forgotten 2k by QueenOfSloths

She remembers the kiss that he took. The only thing she doesn’t remember is him taking it. There are times when she is almost certain that she gave it willingly.

'cause i know that it's delicate 4k by @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth

Set during "Book of the Stranger," immediately after Sansa arrives at the Wall. He goes to build the fire back up, and for a few minutes he stays silent, kneeling at the hearth, not looking at her. Finally he clears his throat. “I know,” he begins, “it’s not exactly what you’re used to — ” “You’d be surprised what I’m used to.”

make your fingers soft and light 10k by @ladyalice101

Jon goes quiet again, and his hand retracts, but just as quickly he is touching her again, oil on his fingers. He works methodically, moving from one wound to the next, one scar to another, from the base of her back to the top of her spine. It’s so gentle, so caring, and the longer it goes on the more Sansa relaxes, the safer she feels. Her eyes dip close under his rhythmic ministrations, and her mind goes blank, and she starts to feel the familiar lull of sleep edge around her mind. “This is supposed to make the scars fade?” Jon asks as he finishes up, his warm hands leaving her back, making her feel cold and startling her from her reverie. “Yes.” She isn’t sure she imagines the tightness in his voice when he speaks again. “If you are to do this every night, then I will gladly assist you.” // Jon rubs a soothing balm into Sansa's scars every night. But that's it. Nothing more. Definitely not. He's just there to help her do what she can't do herself.

as the night came down in a Nordic sky ficlet by @miazeklos

During her first night in Castle Black, Sansa reunites with the true North, and Jon welcomes her home.

Cold Nights at Castle Black ficlet by @estherruth-jonsatrash

They were grown now, childhood behind them. Yet they had been sharing a bed more like children, with the cold at Castle Black leaving them in need of warmth. At least at first.

How I wish you would take me for granted ficlet by @trollslanda

Sometimes her hands would shake- Solely in private, when she broke her quiet surface to gasp for air. Around others she still had a mental block, passively guarding her, bringing out the Stark iron. It made her keep her back straight and eyes steady, put up a solid front. Sometimes it felt like she was rusting from the inside and her brittle bones would never be whole again. --- Set shortly after Sansa has arrived at Castle Black, when she's still learning to feel safe. As it turns out, Jon is really good at that kind of thing.

Remedy ficlet by @wildflower-daydreamer

The night Jon and Sansa reunite at Castle Black.

To break and to mend ficlet @dreams-for-spring

In those moments nothing else matters and they forget what they have lost; in those moments they are more than the sum of their broken parts.

In the quiet of the night 4k by dreams-for-spring

It becomes a habit; each night she unlatches her chamber door, and each night Jon enters just as bashfully as before. Some nights he brings terrible sour wine, and others bitter ale for them to share as they sit around the hearth speaking of everything that has happened–everything except what has passed between him and his black brothers. She knows that is a topic he is not ready to share. Still, she does not find sleep when he leaves, but at least for those brief hours she is not alone, and something small inside of her begins to burn brighter with each night that passes. She tries to ignore the voice that tells her it is hope; hope is a dangerous thing for people like them.

Tous Deux On est Repartis dans le Tourbillon de la Vie 1k by @melimelo-ao3

He couldn’t even begin to picture what she had endured, what she had lived through. Yet, hearing her pleading in the night, he would give anything to know, to be able to understand her, to soothe her. He had only ever wanted to soothe her.

Gifsets: Where Will We Go by c-sand, Brienne Reacts to Jonsa, New Dress by @jonstarks How Could We Know, Sansa Tries Ale, Where Will We Go, Sansa Making Jon's Cloak, I Made This for You by kitnjon

Traveling the North

Five Times They Touch 1k by @justchunkit

She doesn’t touch him for days. Weeks. They travel from keep to stronghold, living in close quarters as they’d never done even as children. She is so close, but an icy veneer has covered the exhausted girl he’d started to know, and they can hardly exchange a good morning without it evolving into an argument.

Some Love Stories Need a Little Help 2k @graceverse

Or how Tormund effectively makes Jon share a tent with Sansa

Unnatural 2k by @amymel86

Once he is close enough, she leaps at him, arms wrapping him up and his nose buried in her copper hair. The shuddering exhale he expels is the most amount of sound he’s made in days but all he can hear is Sansa’s sniffling and the way their two hearts talk to one another in beats of the same song.

Gifsets: Arguing, Eye Contact, Jon Reacting to Sansa by jonstarks Side by Side by @baelerion

Pre Battle of the Bastards

we may only have this night 2k by wearycities

She summoned an image of Jon in her mind. When he saw her, at Castle Black. His eyes, his face. His hands letting go of the railing, like it had burned him. She could not stop thinking about his hands. She had turned the memory over and over in her mind on countless sleepless nights, wondering what it meant. After her argument with Jon the night before the Battle of the Bastards, Sansa returned to his tent.

The Madness of Dead and Broken Things 1k by @estherruth-jonsatrash

The first time, Jon tells himself it’s the last time. Jon gives into his feelings for Sansa the night before the Battle of the Bastards, telling himself he'll die the next day. He isn't prepared for the after of survival.

the night before the fight ficlet by @sailorshadzter

jon & sansa spend a night together before the battle of the bastards. pre parental reveal hookup, read at your own risk. nsfw.

Before the Storm 1k

Snowflakes fell from the grey sky, covering the ground in white even more than it already was. Grey and white, Sansa thought to herself. The Stark colors.

A gaze across a field 1, 2 ficlets by fedonciadale

Sansa's thoughts as she contemplates the possible outcome of the battle.

Gifsets: Arguing, You Don't Have to Be Here, I'll protect You I Promise by jonstarks, Pre and During BotB by baelerion, Jon Pummeling Ramsay by kitnjon, Jon Pummeling Ramsay by c-sand

Post Battle of the Bastards

Bloodstains and Stitches Chapter 1 and 2 by @trollslanda

Two scenes set after Battle of the Bastards: 1. In the courtyard, Jons pov. Post-battle calmdown and fluff I guess but also there's dead bodies and stuff. I dunno. 2. Sansa cleaning his wounds and stitching him up, her pov. A pretty sweet scene where they get a moment to breathe.

A Little Friction ficlet by @justchunkit

“You don’t know anything about me.” “Because you won’t tell me anything!” After the Battle of the Bastards, Jon and Sansa try to get to know each other.

Of Justice and Ghosts 1k by @lurikko

He knows his sister is watching him carefully like they are the only two humans left in the world, as they in a way are, and that makes his every remaining piece crumble.

Ghosts that We Knew 7k @the-prophet-lemonade

In the wake of the Battle of the Bastards, and the proclamation of the North's fealty to the Starks once more, Jon and Sansa see the ghosts of their family all-around. Sometimes, it becomes difficult to separate the past from the present when so many that they love are dead. A series of vignettes based around "nostalgia", and Jon & Sansa compared to Ned & Catelyn and the rest of their family.

they say that we’re out of control and some say we’re sinners 14k

Doesn’t have enough time to reminisce on the past because she’s turned around, and he’s seen her face, and it’s her. Can’t be anyone but her even underneath all that smudged dirt on her pale cheeks. Would know the red of her hair anywhere, he thinks. Doesn’t linger on the why, and instead descends down the steps and towards her. She’s turned her body so she’s facing him now, her eyes tracking his every move, his doing the same. They’re so in sync it’s terrifying, really.

Five Kisses 1k by @ben-barnes-is-my-husband

The five kisses that Jon and Sansa have shared.

Undisclosed Desires 4k Nina36

“Why did you stop?” She asked. I was ashamed. He was yours. I was terrified that you saw who I am. He was yours to kill. It was what you needed.

bet you didn't know that i was dangerous 4k by @ladyalice101

“I mean that your brother took a woman to bed, and when he had his way with her, he said your name into her ear over and over again.” // In which Littlefinger tests for Jon's weaknesses, and discovers a secret.

Soiled 5k by @orangeflavoryawp

"'Talk to me, Sansa,' he pleads, voice wavering, and she shuts her eyes to the sound. Like a gale. Like a mountain coming down. This is how it empties from her. 'What do you want me to say?"' she bites out, voice quaking." - Jon and Sansa. The start of their descent.

Dark in Bloom 8k by orangeflavoryawp

"His gravity wavers, the axis of his world tilted to the measure of her lips." - Jon and Sansa. The stain of desire bleeds slowly between them.

Hallowed 5k by orangeflavoryawp

“’Tell me,’ he growls, more demand than he’s ever given her – crown or not – and the feeling is heady in its fervency. Sansa stares him down, mouth a harsh frown. She doesn’t resist his hold, doesn’t ease into it either. ‘He says your affections for me aren’t… brotherly.’” - Jon and Sansa. An encounter with Lord Baelish brings the truth of their desires to light.

but still you stumble, feet give way, outside the world seems a violent place 3k by @parkersedith

When she looks at him, she cannot see anyone other than Jon, especially with him wearing a simple breeches and tunic, divested of all ornaments, even Longclaw. She can only see Jon, not her bastard half-brother, not the King in the North, not the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, not a wildling, but only Jon, the Jon who took Winterfell back with her, the Jon who fought their battle, the Jon who has been there, at her side, ever since she found him again. or; instead of roaming winterfell when she cannot sleep, sansa goes to jon, and to jon's bed. it's not quite as illicit as it sounds, and gives them a chance to finally, truly, talk

In the quiet of the night 4k by @dreams-for-spring

It becomes a habit; each night she unlatches her chamber door, and each night Jon enters just as bashfully as before. Some nights he brings terrible sour wine, and others bitter ale for them to share as they sit around the hearth speaking of everything that has happened–everything except what has passed between him and his black brothers. She knows that is a topic he is not ready to share. Still, she does not find sleep when he leaves, but at least for those brief hours she is not alone, and something small inside of her begins to burn brighter with each night that passes. She tries to ignore the voice that tells her it is hope; hope is a dangerous thing for people like them.

love is more than telling me you want it 2k

When he smiles at her, she feels warmth flooding back into her bones. She’d almost forgotten what it feels like, she’s been cold for so long. Sansa and Jon learn to be something other than ships passing in the night.

Gifsets: Jon Looking at Sansa by jonstarks, Sansa Looking at Jon by baelerion, Forehead Kiss by joanna-lannister, Winter Is Here by kitnjon, Forehead Kiss by c-sand

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALES - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - next week -> ANNE OF GREEN GABLES

[sufferu]

So I have this one-shot I’m currently working on that isn’t quite done yet. Here’s a short scene.

Ficlet from One Good Deed A Day: As Graves Do

The Order of the Knights had not gotten off without scrutiny either. Although the pressure was mainly on the Candidates, the fact that some of the versions of the story being spread included their refusal to help was painting them as a bitter, vindictive group which would punish a youth for speaking out of turn by leaving him and his loved ones to die. It was remarkably similar to the situation that Julius had desperately attempted to steer everyone away from, but his efforts had seemingly been for naught.

Not that he really cared, right now. There was something more important at hand.

“I’m not sure you would have wanted me, of all people, to bring you flowers,” Julius admitted. “Our meeting with one another was far from pleasant, especially for you. I don’t even know what kind of flowers you like. …But I thought you might appreciate it if someone you met once were to visit you here, even if it were me.”

Natsuki Subaru didn’t have any family. His only known home had been at the Mather’s Estate, which was now in ruins, and nearly all of those who had known enough about him in life to properly grieve his passing were now dead. But the thought of leaving the boy’s grave unattended to made Julius’ heart ache, especially after he had tried so, so hard for the sake of everyone else.

He had been buried alongside all the other former residents of Irlam, right next to his Lady at the far side of the graveyard that had taken the place of the ghost town. It was beautiful, now, full of flowers and full of life. This was thanks to Reinhard — not just because it was the swing of his sword that had put it in motion, but because he now regularly tended to the garden that had sprung up in its wake. Nobody had fought Felt when she had angrily laid claim to the land left behind by the half-elf candidate and her self-proclaimed knight, mostly because any of the other three candidates trying to do anything of the sort would have seemed tactless (at the VERY best) within the context of the tale that had been spreading around the country.

“You’ll be happy to know that the Order has been going through a lot of trouble thanks to you,” he said wryly, gently and carefully setting the bouquet against the headstone. “Everyone’s taking their refusal to assist you in saving your village from the Witch Cult as a sign of personal grudges getting in the way. Somehow that tantrum of yours got turned around on US, because now we’re all being painted as the sort of weak-willed men who would use a boy throwing a tantrum as a reason to withhold from him our aid. Is this your way of getting back at me, I wonder…?”

Nobody could remember exactly what had happened when Subaru had come to the knights for help. But only one person had come to them seeking assistance against an upcoming Witch Cult attack in Irlam, and there was really only one person who that warning could have come from, so it wasn’t difficult to conclude what must have happened from there.

“I wish you had seen it fit to ask ME for help,” Julius lamented quietly. “You were asking everyone you could, right? If you had just come and asked me, maybe I could have…”

Anastasia had seen no reason to give her aid, with Subaru’s clumsy negotiation presenting her with a situation in which she would gain nothing and risk everything — on top of his testimony being unreliable, and his mannerisms being immature at best and somewhat crazed at worst. Julius would not have gone against her wishes. But if Subaru had just come to him FIRST…

“Well, there’s no point in dwelling on what could have been, is there?”

What could have been. What if one of the candidates Subaru had begged for help had agreed to lend their aid? What if the knights had listened when he came asking for them to save his loved ones? What if the White Whale hadn’t interrupted his scramble to find help among a band of traveling merchants, sending all of them scattering as it set its sights on Subaru and Subaru alone? What if the Beast of the End had seen it fit to spare the souls of Irlam Village from his vicious, agonized rampage following the death of Lady Emilia, deep in the woods?

Perhaps that last “what if” was the worst of them all.

“You were really close.” Julius’ voice cracked. “You almost saved them. Not— Not Emilia, maybe, but the people of the nearby village…if circumstances were different, they would all have lived.”

It wasn’t completely true, but there was an element of truth in what he said. Irlam village had not shown any evidence of Witch Cult activities, with the bodies of the cultists instead found clustered in the area immediately surrounding Subaru and Emilia’s dead figures. All evidence pointed to them having successfully evaded the upcoming attack that Subaru had predicted — likely due to Subaru’s own interference, which had led the cultists deep into the woods. But they hadn’t been able to avoid the frost: a frost which had not just killed the cultists, but also all the surrounding wildlife, all the people within the village, and — as an autopsy proved — even Subaru himself.

(The Witch Cult, the Royal Candidates, the Kingdom’s Knights, the White Whale, and his very own ally in the Beast of the End. How a singular person attempting to do the right thing could find themselves opposed by so many parties all at the same time would have been morbidly funny to think about, if the reminder of how Subaru’s story had ended wasn’t so sobering.)

Julius took a deep breath, steadying himself. “We believe you now,” he said. “It’s far too late for that and we all know it, but — we believe you. I do hope that there’s some consolation there.”

The grave said nothing, as graves do.

[sarahs-secrets2]

Welcome Home Commander ˋ♡ˊ

phillip graves x gn!reader

angst to happy ending, uses of pet names, swearing

wc: 870

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Another knock on the door.

It was getting really annoying at this point. Ever since Phillip Graves was announced officially KIA, your neighbors had taken it upon themselves to bring over food and check on you. Sure, the gesture was nice but for one night you just wanted to be left alone. It was a lot, the rumors, the news articles, everyone had an opinion about Phillip, and somehow no one thought to ask you about your own husband. Here you were again, making your way back towards the door ready to accept the Tupperware that would end up sitting in your fridge for the next few days until it was time to throw it away.

Using the sleeve of the oversized hoodie, you wiped the sleep from your eyes preparing yourself for another disgustingly awkward “friendly neighbor” interaction. It was Graves’ old sweatshirt, which had become your uniform at this point with how much you wore it. Everyone told you it would be best to phase out his belongings so you didn't have the “constant” reminder in the house, but something inside you wouldn't allow it. You left everything the way it was the last time he was home. The day he left for deployment.

Opening the door, you braced yourself for the overly cheery neighbor who was about to completely disregard anything you said just so they could check off their good deed of the day. Not even looking up from the floor, words you had uttered too many times to count fell from your mouth, “Just leave it on the porch next time it’s okay,” they never listened. 

“The porch huh?”

Your eyes flashed up quickly at the sound of a deep Southern accent. This was a dream, you were dreaming, maybe it was from the lack of sleep. Not a dream, a hallucination, yeah that’s what this was. 

Phillip Graves. He was home, and not KIA like everyone including the Shadow Company told you. 

“What the fuck,” was all that you could say. Your brain could not compute what was occurring in front of you, how was he here? Hot tears began to stream down your cheeks, your body frozen in place looking at Phillip in front of you. He looked exactly the same as when he left, how was that possible? He was untouched beside the scar that stretched across his cheek that he had always had, the one you kissed a thousand times. You could see the tears welling up in his eyes as he stood there, duffle bag hanging off his shoulder.

“Can I come in? Please,” his demeanor had shifted, dropping the cocky act he had approached with. Still unable to form a complete sentence, you stepped aside letting him through. It was still his house after all. This all felt out of body, Phillip was home. Shutting the door, you stood watching Graves set down his duffle and kick off his shoes. He was quick to notice how you were observing him, like if you looked away he might disappear. “You okay darlin’?” That fucking nickname, you thought you would never hear it again. 

“Stop it, Phillip,” he looked confused, “I thought you were dead,” tears were still flowing down your face, blurring your vision slightly. There was an obvious tone of frustration, sadness, and confusion all mushing together in your voice. Graves’ brow furrowed, he stepped closer trying to comfort you but you stepped back. 

“I'm sorry,”

“How?”

“How? How what?”

“How are you here Phillip, everyone told me you were dead,”

“I wasn't in the tank, I made it home, I needed to get back to you,” his voice was soft just like how you remembered. “No one knew, I was supposed to be in there but…” he trailed off, crossing his arms as he recounted the memory looking deep into your eyes. This time you stepped closer, placing your hand on his bicep, rubbing it slowly. Phillip was hurting just as much as you. 

“I missed you, I missed you really fucking bad,” Phillip nodded, uncrossing his arms. Pulling you into him and letting your head rest on his chest. His arms wrapped around you tightly in a hug. All the emotions that had been bottled up since you first got the news began to flood out. Phillip Graves was safe, and he was home. 

“I missed you too doll,” his hand stroked the back of your head comforting you. 

“You know, I have a million questions,”

“I know baby, I know,” there was a pause between the two of you, a comfortable silence as you stood in the foyer in each other's arms. 

“Don’t leave me ever again,” it came out muffled as your face was buried deep in Phillip’s chest.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he chuckled, tightening the hug briefly before pulling back slightly to kiss your forehead. 

“Good,” you smiled slightly as Graves wiped a tear off your cheek. Leaning up your lips finally met his after being away for far too long, melting into the kiss and allowing yourself to unwind in his arms. Pulling away only to catch your breath, you rested your head back on his chest taking in the feeling of having him back, “Welcome home Commander.”

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

graves masterlist!

[cozage]

The Moss that Grew in Gloom

Chapter 9: Day Three

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Word Count: 2.2k Characters: female reader x Zoro --

You woke the next morning in your bed, still foggy from the day before. You were still in your training clothes, but at least you had made it to your bed. You hadn’t remembered crawling into bed, or even how you had gotten up the stairs. The last thing you remembered was trying to stand up, and Zoro catching you. He must’ve helped you. You’d have to thank him for that later. 

A movement at your bedside had you turning over and reaching for where you typically left Nikko. But your hand only found air and your eyes were overtaken with moss green. 

“Roronoa.” Your throat was dry, causing his name to come out in a rasp.

He lifted his head from its resting place on your bedside. He appeared to be asleep, but his eyes were alert and full of worry. 

You gave a slight cough to clear your throat. “What exactly are you doing in my room?” 

Zoro grabbed a glass of water from your bedside table and held it out for you. You refused to take it, keeping your eyes locked on him as you waited for an answer. 

He sighed in defeat. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You passed out in the courtyard. I had to carry you up here.”

His answer embarrassed you, but it was a good enough reason for him to be in here. You worked yourself into a sitting position, refusing Zoro’s attempt at any assistance, and took the water from him. 

After you finished the whole thing, you cleared your throat once more. The fog in your head was already starting to dissipate. “Thank you.”

Zoro shook his head. “It was my fault you were that exhausted.”

“I knew what I was getting myself into.” Your scowl turned into a smirk. “I’m surprised you were able to find my room.”

“I know how to get around this castle!”

You let out a soft chuckle and began getting out of bed. Your body was more sore than you had expected it to be. Even just shifting your body caused your muscles to ache.

“You don’t have to rush it,” Zoro said softly. “You can stay in bed today if you want.”

You waved him off and stood up. Zoro watched you carefully as you stood, waiting to intervene if needed. It took you a few seconds to find your balance, but you could to stand on your own. 

“Where’s Nikko?” You looked around the room, spotting it near the fireplace. You stepped towards it, but Zoro was already there and back, handing off the blade to you. 

You felt more steady with your blade by your side, but you still gave Zoro a sour look. “I can do things on my own, you know. I’m not some damsel.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to do everything yourself,” Zoro grumbled. 

You could’ve argued further, but you decided to let it go. “Let’s eat, then we’ll go train.”

Zoro gave you a bewildered look. “We can’t train today! You’ll get yourself killed.”

You gave a dry laugh, which sent a pang through your ribcage. He was probably right. Another day of training would likely send both of you to an early grave. 

“You’re going to train with the stuffed bear today.” You took a few steps towards the door, trying not to sound winded. Zoro hovered around you, waiting to see if you needed assistance.

“I can already do the bear,” Zoro said. “I practiced while you slept.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “You should’ve been resting and recovering. Not practicing.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t sleep well. I had time.”

“You never take anything slow,” you grumbled. 

You started toward the door. Your body felt weak and clammy, and the room randomly tilted on an axis now and then. You needed food, and then you could focus on how to help Zoro continue training. 

Zoro stayed next to you the whole journey down the stairs and to the kitchen. He never once complained about your speed or grumbled when you needed to lean against the wall. He never offered help, though you could see his jaw was clenched, as if he disapproved of you even trying to move around. 

When you pulled out a pan and dropped it, he finally interjected. 

“You should sit down and let me cook.” He grabbed the pan off the floor before you had the chance to bend down. 

“I can do it.” You reached for the pan in his hands, but he held it just out of reach. 

“I know you can do it. But let me help you.”

“Roronoa-”

His eyes softened for just a moment. “You helped me. Let me help you.”

That was enough to make you listen. You slowly walked over to the chair and slunk into it. You put your head down and closed your eyes, willing the dizziness to go away. 

You must’ve dozed off at some point because a moment later, a plate was being set on the table. 

“Hope you like it,” Zoro said, already turning away. 

The eggs and the toast were slightly burnt, but you didn’t mind. There was no seasoning either, though you were sure that you would’ve been sick if there had been. With every bite of bread and eggs, clarity began to set in. 

“We’ll go out to the ruins today to practice,” you offered over breakfast. 

“I can train here.”

You narrowed your eyes at him from across the table. Zoro hated practicing in the courtyard. He had tried multiple times to convince you to leave the area. He didn’t want to train here, and you knew that. If he didn’t want to go to the ruins, it was because of you. 

“I can handle myself out there.” Your words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t really care. 

Zoro suddenly became very interested in his meal. “I don’t mind training here.”

“It’s distracting to train here.” Perona’s voice echoed through the halls. She was already singing some strange melodies very offkey.

“I need the distraction.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down before you tried again. “We’ll train at the ruins.” 

You stated it with such finality, you were startled when he spoke. 

“I’d prefer to train here.” His eyes were now locked on you in a mix of challenge and weariness. 

“Train here then.” You stared straight back, mustering all of the anger and irritation you had felt over the past few days. “I’m going to the ruins.”

“God dammit,” he muttered. “You just like to argue, don’t you?”

You shrugged with a sense of smugness, knowing you had won. “Do it my way or do it alone, Roronoa.”

It took you longer to get to the ruins than usual, but Zoro didn’t comment. You weren’t even sure if he had noticed. He seemed on edge walking through the jungle, as if a monster would jump out and attack him at any time. 

It was a possibility. 

When you got to the ruins, you handed off a cheap sword to Zoro and had him sit wherever he felt most comfortable. 

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Give it a try.”

He looked at you and back to the sword. “What do you mean?”

You sat down a bit away from him. “Imbue it with your haki.”

“How?”

You scoffed. “You know how.”

“I don’t!”

“Just try it.” You pulled out a book and flipped to the page you were on. “I have two more swords for when you break that one.”

“I won’t break it!” he argued. You simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t have the energy to argue. 

He proved you right in about 30 minutes. You sensed the metal bending just a second before the sword shattered in his hand. You had to suppress a shutter, knowing exactly what kind of energy was sent into that sword at full force. 

Instead, you looked at him half amused. 

“Don’t. Say. Anything.” His tone was enough of a warning. 

You threw another sword at him with a nod and returned to your book. Just like his time practicing with you, he had learned exactly what the breaking point was and how to toe that line. As long as he had enough control to do it. 

The day inched by, seconds slowly bleeding into minutes, and then hours. As the sun continued to climb, the clouds began to disperse - a rare sunny day on Gloom Island. Sunny days meant that being outside would be almost unbearable. But Zoro made no movement or complaints, so you sad in the shade and continued to read. 

Then, as the sun was getting close to the horizon, you felt it. The release of controlled haki being pushed into the sword. Your eyes quickly darted to the green-haired swordsman just in time to see his blade being coated in the inky black color. 

Success. He had done it. In only one day. 

He could do anything. 

Zoro looked over at you. “Uh, I-”

“Did it!” you shouted, jumping up and abandoning your book as you ran over to him. “You did it!”

The sword clattered to the ground and Zoro held his arms out to you. Without thinking, you jumped into them. Your cheers turned into laughs as he used your momentum to swing you around. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him so happy since coming here. 

You weren’t sure you had ever been this happy for another person. “I can’t believe you really did it. You have amazing haki control!”

“I had a good teacher.” His cheeks flushed with pink. “Thank you.”

You were very aware of his hands still resting on your hips, and you took a step away from him. “Try it with your sword now.”

He gave a hard swallow, his mind returning to the task. You couldn’t remember which one it was that he pulled out, but it was so beautiful you couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. 

It was instantly coated in black, without even a whisper of tension in the steel. 

A grin broke out across his face as he looked at his blade. “I’m so happy I could kiss you.”

Then do it. The words almost left your lips. He looked at you, surprised you didn’t respond to his words. You wanted to taunt him so badly, to challenge him to do it. You could feel yourself silently begging him to do it. As his gaze drifted down to your lips, your mouth slightly parted, as if you might actually say it. 

He didn’t let you get the chance. He leaned down and carefully pressed his lips against yours, and your heart thundered in your chest at the contact. He began to pull away, but your hands intertwined in his hair and you pulled him back to you. 

With permission to proceed, he pressed his lips back against you, harder and more desperate this time. You let out a soft moan as your lips parted, and he wasted no time pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

His hands trailed up and down your spine, causing your body to shiver involuntarily. You could feel his mouth quirk into a smile, but he was too busy tasting you to comment. 

You weren’t sure why you had tried to deny yourself this feeling. The two of you fit perfectly into one another’s grasp. You never wanted to let him go. You’d rather have him than the air you breathed. 

Which almost proved to be true. When he finally broke from the kiss, the two of you were gasping and sputtering. You had been so caught up in each other, you had forgotten the necessity of breathing. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Zoro confessed, his arms still around you, holding you close to him.

“Since you arrived?” You asked.

Zoro huffed out a laugh. “No. You were a real bitch when I first got here. Perona told me about how you wanted to leave me to the baboons, you know.”

“I stand by that decision,” you joked. “You would’ve figured it out.”

He kissed your cheek, and then moved lower, spreading kisses across your neck. 

“Zoro,” you moaned and leaned back your head to extend your neck to him.

He let out a broken laugh. “You haven’t called me Zoro in four days, you know. It’s nice to hear it on your lips again.”

You pulled away from him. “It’s been four days?” you asked, your heartbeat picking up.

He gave you a reassuring smile. “Four whole days. I’ll forgive you, don’t worry. But you’ll-”

You counted back the days again in your head. You were certain you had counted correctly. “It’s only been three days since my father left.” 

Zoro stepped back, chewing on his lip as he tried to think of an explanation. But you didn’t need one. His being in your room this morning, his overall protectiveness of you today…it was all starting to add up. 

“I was out for a whole day.” Your heart was thundering in your chest for an entirely different reason.

“Yeah.” Zoro scratched the back of his head, a habit he tended to do when he was nervous. “I didn’t tell you right away because I didn’t want you to panic. And then it just never came up. I was going to tell you though, I swear.”

Your breathing became rapid, and you glanced back to the castle in the distance. He wasn’t back yet. You couldn’t feel him on the island. 

Your father had never once missed his return date. And yet as the sun began to set one day after his promised arrival, he still wasn’t home.

--

Tags! @lukepolaroid @ellisaworld @darienjo @bi-narystars (I think I may have forgotten someone PLEASE forgive me my brain is SCATTERED rn)

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, add a comment or send me a message :)

[purplemirrorart]

CaitVi Fan-Fiction - Part 3 - Learning to Weep

This is a follow up to this post (Parts 1 and 2) and is based on a loose idea of a possible ending for season 2. Please read the accompanying comic before reading this fan-fiction.

Also this is my first fan-fiction so...I dunno, go easy on me I guess. I hope you guys like it!

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

Vi had gotten pretty good at forgetting things. At this point, it was a necessity. If she remembered everything that had happened to her in Stillwater Hold, if she’d held that in her mind at all times, she’d never get anything done. Some might call that unhealthy, she saw it as a practical solution. She needed to keep going, keep functioning, and keeping those things locked in the back of her mind helped her do that. By now, she figured she’d be able to do it on command if needed.  

This was not something she could forget. This was not something she could block out. 

She had killed her sister. 

Despite her best efforts, the memory had seared itself into the fabric of her mind, playing again and again on repeat. She remembered how it felt as she thrust her arm forward, feeling the impact of her hextech gauntlet hitting Jinx…hitting her sister’s chest. She remembered feeling the bones in her ribs crunch and snap under the force of the blow, and the instant regret that followed, regret like she’d never felt before, violent and visceral, crashing through every nerve, every cell in her body in horror at what she’d done. What she couldn’t undo. She remembered the blood that spilled out of her sister’s mouth, it was a deep dark red with the slightest hint of purple from the shimmer that ran through her veins. She remembered feeling the blood splatter across her face, making her recoil backwards. She remembered looking down, and being surprised at just how much blood was on her gauntlets, and on her clothes. She remembered feeling guilty about how little of that blood was her own. She remembered how her sister gasped for air, her lungs collapsing under their own weight with each breath she took in. She remembered how little time she had to hold her in her arms before the body went limp, the life fading from her wide, pink eyes. She remembered the burning in her lungs as she screamed, her throat sore and her eyes red and watering as she shouted out curses at both herself, and the universe. She remembered burying the body, using the gauntlets to dig out a hole in rock and the dirt, covering it with stones. She remembered writing every letter of that gravestone…she figured her sister deserved this much; to not lie in an unmarked grave. She remembered turning around and seeing Caitlyn, standing there behind her a short distance away, her breathing heavy as if she’d just ran there…and she remembered the look in her eyes. She was horrified.

Vi bolted up in her bed, breathing heavily. She was drenched in sweat, and her head pounded with pain as a result of copious drinking the night before, no doubt in a fruitless effort to drown her sorrows. Truth be told, she couldn’t remember where exactly she was. Probably whatever Inn down in the undercity that’d let her keep drinking until she passed out and the staff had to drag her back to her room, which they’d inevitably kick her out of the next morning. 

“Fuck…that fucking dream again…shit…” she groaned to herself, head in her hands. It’d been about a week and a half since it’d happened, and she’d barely been able to sleep in that time. Usually she was too afraid to sleep for fear of running through that whole experience on repeat again, so she simply got blackout drunk in order to get any rest. It was an inelegant solution, but a solution nonetheless. Judging from the light outside, she figured it was probably still late at night, or early in the morning, which one didn’t particularly matter. What mattered was that she needed another drink or else her brain was gonna start working again any second now. She reached for the bedside table, where she vaguely recalled she’d last left the bottle, though as her hand stumbled around the countertop in the dark, she couldn’t find it. She turned over in the bed, looking at the dimly lit floor next to the bed in the hope that it’d just fallen onto the floor, but nothing. Then suddenly a light in the corner of the room clicked on. Vi’s head throbbed with pain as she covered her eyes with her arm, trying to adjust to her surroundings. 

“Fuck! Jeez, just leave me alone! I’ll be out of here in the morning…” Vi groaned, assuming that it was one of the staff at the inn telling her she’d overstayed her welcome. 

“Vi, it’s me.” Replied a steady, calming voice with a rather distinct uppercity accent. Vi recognised the voice immediately.

“Caitlyn?” Vi said, taking her arm down and getting a look at her. She was sitting at the opposite end of the room in a rather stiff looking office chair next to a simple desk, the light of the lamp bathing the room in a warm orange glow. She wasn’t in her enforcer uniform, rather she was dressed in the same purple cloth and corset that she wore the first time they travelled to the undercity together. Vi couldn’t help but note how the light hit Caitlyn’s face, how warm her cheeks looked, how intense her eyes were. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was a comfort to see her. Right now, Vi didn’t want comfort though, she didn’t deserve comfort after what she’d done. 

“How long have you been sitting there?” Vi asked, a little ashamed that Caitlyn had to see her like this. It was pathetic. 

“A couple of hours now. I didn’t want to wake you…you seemed like you needed the rest.”

“I wish you would’ve…” Vi grumbled. If she never had to sleep again, she wouldn’t. Bad enough being alone with her thoughts when she was awake. “How’d you even find me?”

“You didn’t make it easy, but I eventually narrowed it down to one of the taverns you hadn’t been kicked out of.” she said, with the slightest smirk. Vi chuckled a little.

“That’s smarts, Cupca-” She stopped herself, the half said word hanging in the air like something rotten. Vi cleared her throat before continuing. “Why'd you come looking for me?” She asked, cautiously.

“I was worried about you.” Caitlyn responded, plainly, trying her best to keep herself calm and collected. “When you didn’t come back to Piltover I thought-”

“Why would I come back to Piltover?” Vi said, bluntly. Caitlyn frowned, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know, I just…” Caitlyn’s voice trailed off, weakly, unable to find the words. 

“Caitlyn I…you don’t want me there, trust me. We did what we…what we had to do…” Vi’s voice wavered, before she choked down her tears, collecting herself. Now wasn’t the time for that. It never was. “But that’s over now. Did you think I was just going to go back to Piltover and be an enforcer? I don’t belong in that uniform.”

“I know, but-” 

“Now if you’re gonna sit here and try and convince me of the good we can do with a badge and a rifle then be my guest,  but I’m telling you now, I’m never doing that agai-”

“Vi, I quit the enforcers.” Caitlyn interrupted. The statement itself was practically enough to break through Vi’s hangover, and she was now laser focused on putting together how the hell those words made sense. 

“I…sorry…you did what?” She stammered, utterly perplexed. 

“I quit. I handed in my badge and my rifle one week ago. I’m relieved of all duties.” She said, still holding onto that matter of fact tone that you could swear she spent time perfecting in the mirror every morning before leaving the house. 

“But…but that’s…why? I mean, you’ve been working your whole life to be an enforcer, why now?” Vi asked. With Vi becoming a recluse following the death of Jinx, Caitlyn stood to take credit for bringing down the terrorist responsible for the attack on the council, and ending shimmer production from Zaun. If she wanted to, she could have become chief investigative officer, maybe even chief of police as a whole in a few years. For her to quit now…it just didn’t add up. 

Caitlyn sighed, before standing up and walking over to the edge of the bed. She cocked her head slightly downwards, silently asking if it was okay if she sat there. Vi promptly scooched up, giving her the space to sit on the edge of the mattress, the springs squeaking slightly under the weight of both of them.

“The things you said…the last time we saw each other…” Caitlyn started, her voice more solemn and quiet than before. Vi immediately felt a familiar pang of guilt run through her body. She remembered every word she said, and she also remembered how much of an idiot she felt like after she’d said them.

“Caitlyn I’m sorry, I didn’t-” 

“No. Vi, you let me finish.” She said, this time a bit more sternly, her voice wavering slightly. It was clear even to Vi that she’d been thinking about this for a while. Vi sat up straight and shut her mouth, making it clear she was going to be quiet until Caitlyn was done. 

“What you said to me…it hurt. It hurt a lot…because I knew it was true…” Caitlyn said, her voice shaking slightly, her bottom lip quivering before she took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her lips. Vi leaned forward slightly towards her, she wanted to comfort her but…the last time she’d laid hands on anyone was…she just didn’t want to hurt her. 

“I was so full of anger…I’m ashamed to admit it but I was upset that I wasn't the one to…I wanted that. I wanted revenge…at least I thought I did. But looking at that gravestone you placed…” she took another deep breath and sighed. This whole time she was looking down at her hands, which held tightly onto one another. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Vi.

“What Jinx did was terrible…and I still don’t know yet if I have it in my heart to forgive her, even now. But Jinx wouldn’t be Jinx if it wasn’t for what happened to her…to both of you…you both deserved so much better, and if you’d gotten it maybe none of this would’ve happened…looking at it all…I realised the world doesn’t need another enforcer…another angry woman with a gun…” Caitlyn said, clenching her fists tighter.

“Caitlyn you…you’re more than that.” Vi said, softly, moving a little closer on the bed. She could feel her stomach tying itself in knots, hearing Caitlyn speak like this, hearing how much she’d changed. It took her aback. 

“I can be…” she replied. “I can be better than that, but the fact is I wasn’t…and so now I’m trying to be.” Caitlyn finally turned to Vi, tucking a strand of her long blue hair behind her ear. “As it stands, Piltover is without proper council. Maybe there I can do some good. Real good, that doesn’t involve pushing people down.”

Vi gave Caitlyn a reassuring smile “Ah, now there’s the girl scout I know.” She teased. Caitlyn let out a relieved laugh, happy to see that Vi approved of her plans. “You’re gonna make a lot of enemies, Cait, making changes like that…it’s gonna piss people off, both in Piltover and here.”

“I know.” Caitlyn said “which is why I’ll need someone to…help keep me safe…” her voice dropped to a soft whisper as she moved her hand on top of Vi’s. They touched for only a moment before Vi pulled back, shifting almost instinctively back into the bed, almost like a frightened animal. “Vi…” Caitlyn whispered, worriedly. 

Vi didn’t want to admit to herself how nice it was to feel Caitlyn’s touch again, even if it was only briefly. But then it all came flooding back. What those hands had done…all the blood that still stained them, even now, beneath the surface. She shook her head, her breathing becoming more rapid and uneven.

“I…I can’t…I can’t Caitlyn, I can’t…I don’t want to hurt you….” She said, her voice breathy and hoarse as she tried her damndest to keep herself together. “Trust me it’s better if-”

“No, Vi. Not the oil and water again, I don’t want to hear it. You’re not pushing me away again.” Caitlyn responded, sternly but earnestly. “I want to be here for you, Vi.”

“Don’t you get it?! I can’t keep you safe! I can’t keep anyone safe! All I do is hurt and hurt and hurt and I can’t…I-I can’t…” Vi stammered over her words, her face straining to hold back tears, her breathing short and rapid. Her hands gripping the bed sheets so tightly they might rip. 

Before Vi could let out another word, Caitlyn darted forward and wrapped her arms around Vi’s body, hugging her tightly, her head burying itself into the crook of her neck as she held onto Vi for dear life. Vi could feel her breathing almost halt completely, her eyes wide. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Vi…and I’m not letting you go…never again…” Caitlyn whispered. 

“But…but…I don’t wanna hurt you…” Vi mumbled, quietly. 

“Vi, listen to me…meeting you…getting to know you…you’ve changed me for the better. I don’t want to think about the person I’d be without you, Vi.”

She pulled back slightly, looking into Vi’s eyes, gently placing a hand on her cheek and softly caressing it.

“You told me I’m more than just a gun, so I’m telling you, Vi. You’re more than just someone who hurts. So much more than that…you’re brave…you’re ferocious…you’re determined…and I’ll be damned if you condemn yourself because you don’t see how brilliant you are…”

Vi leaned into Caitlyn’s touch, unable to stop herself from embracing the soft comfort of it. She’d almost forgotten how good it felt…how right it felt. 

“Damn, Cait. You’re gonna make me blush.” She said with a weak laugh, trying her best to smile through it all. To brush off her prior state of panic as nothing more than a brief lapse in her composure. Caitlyn leaned in a little closer. 

“Vi?” She asked in a soft but serious whisper. 

“Yeah, Cait?”

“When was the last time you cried?” She asked. 

The question pierced Vi, right to her core. She could feel herself faltering, both from hearing Caitlyn ask it, and from thinking over the question in her mind. She remembered the tears from after she…but she’d hardly given herself a moment back then to truly let it all out. There’s a difference, after all, between simple tears and truly allowing oneself to cry. To really cry. Going back before that…she couldn’t remember. It must have been years now…maybe at Stillwater…maybe even earlier. 

“I…I don’t…” Her voice cracked, her eyes going hazy as she felt the droplets begin to roll down from her eyes to her cheeks, down to her jaw. Caitlyn pulled her close again, as Vi began to cry. Not just cry, but sob. Weep. For the first time in years it all came flooding back. All that pain, all those things she’d locked away to keep on moving. To keep surviving. 

Tonight, in Caitlyn’s arms, she let herself be weak. She let herself be fragile, for the first time in such a long time. She clutched onto the back of Caitlyn’s shirt as her face became a mess of tears, her nose running, her eyes red like her hair. It was a messy, shameless kind of emotional outpour, the exact kind of thing they both needed. 

Caitlyn, of course, was crying too. It was hard not to, after everything they’d been through together. It was almost like Cait couldn’t release, couldn’t let it flow until she knew Vi had too. All that grief the two had shared, finally being expressed, together.

“I miss my sister… I miss her so much…” Vi cried out, over and over again. This was probably the first time she’d really said it out loud. Always felt it, ever since she’d lost Powder the first time, all those years ago. But this was the first time she’d really felt like she could say it. That she could admit that to someone. 

“I miss my mum…I miss my mum…” Caitlyn cried back. The two continued to cry, holding onto each other as tightly as one might hold a raft at sea. They cried for what felt like hours, before eventually their breathing slowed. The tears stopped. They simply held one another, and it felt good, better than Vi had felt in a long time. For so long she hadn’t allowed herself peace, whether it was because she thought she didn’t need it, or she didn’t deserve it. But right now, at this moment, she couldn’t bring herself to turn it down, not that Caitlyn would let her. 

They both moved back, looking into each other's eyes. Vi wiped the tears from Caitlyn’s eyes, and Caitlyn wiped the tears from Vi’s. As Vi’s thumb brushed the tears away from Caitlyn’s cheek, it just barely grazed against her lip. 

Caitlyn glanced down at her lips, then back up to her eyes. She could feel Vi’s steady breathing. Her hand moved back slightly, running through Vi’s soft, reddish pink hair.

Vi, almost on instinct, leaned forward, her forehead pressing lightly against Caitlyn’s. They looked at one another, eyes half lidded as they embraced. 

“Cait?” She whispered.

“Yes, Vi.” she responded. 

“Can I still call you cupcake?” she asked. Caitlyn smiled, then laughed. 

“God, I love you” She said, before pressing her lips against Vi’s. 

As much as it seemed like it at that moment, their troubles weren’t over. In the coming months, the two of them would face hardships and sadness, trials and tribulations, red tape and political meddling from all sides. Caitlyn’s attempts to broker peace between Zaun and Piltover would be met with opposition and aggression from all sides. Their battles were far from over. There would be losses. There would be tragedy and violence, hate and division. But in the face of it all, every once in a while…the two of them could always hold each other for dear life, and cry their hearts out for as long as they needed. Together.