#she has never had a break in her life man.

[raleighrador]

I agree with Darth Jess re Anakin. I also think the idea that Obi-Wan is what the Jedi were, and Ahsoka what they should have been, aren’t wrong per se I just think that has very different implications than OP seems to be reaching for.

For Obi-Wan, I think what OP is missing is any sense of agency. Obi-Wan had good intentions, yes, but the notion of “set up to fail” just refuses to engage with his own choices and actions.

Satine wouldn’t have died if Obi-Wan used the dark side. Obi-Wan does. His conception of self and fidelity to the Jedi code is more important to him than Satine’s life. That’s a choice - a selfish one.

This parallels what happened on the Coronet in earlier seasons. The difference is Anakin wasn’t on Mandalore to save Satine while Obi-Wan worried and chose inaction.

It’s the same set of choices that drove him to raise Anakin the way he did. He chose to take on a 9 year old who was good and kind and selfless and 10 years later he had a 19 year old who was so scared and angry and insecure that he had become the sort of person who massacred an entire village.

Yes, Anakin is to blame. Yes, Palpatine is to blame. And yes, Obi-Wan is to blame. We should believe Obi-Wan when he says he has failed Anakin because he did.

Obi-Wan chose to be the textbook perfect Jedi instead of being the master/parent that Anakin needed. Basically every canon portrayal of Obi-Wan shows him very clearly understanding the tension between those two and choosing the former. The fact that he felt bad about it proves nothing except he knew it was wrong.

He was well intentioned and good and the textbook perfect Jedi and all of those things came as result his choices and he deserves credit for them. They’re also the same choices that resulted in his disastrous failure and he deserves blame for them too.

Ahsoka is also an interesting one - I agree she comes to be something like what a Jedi “should” be. Compassionate, politically unaffiliated, compassionate etc. I slightly disagree on the characterisation of how she got there.

First - her decision to leave the Jedi, to leave Anakin, is a selfish one. As Darth Jess says, selfish doesn’t always mean bad. But this very much is a selfish decision. This is a decision to forgo her friends and family and strike out on her own because she needs to learn about herself without everyone else around her. It’s a totally normal thing for a teenager to do. Leaving home and becoming your own person is normal and fine.

It’s also selfish to look into the tear filled eyes of the man who has dedicated his life to raising you, who is begging you not to leave him, and say “I’m sorry but no. I know what you need but it’s not what I need.”

It isn’t BAD (or good) but it clearly prioritises your own needs over someone else’s.

What’s so interesting about Ahsoka is this is a lesson she learns basically by herself. Far from selfishness being his problem, Anakin almost always allows himself to be split into a thousand pieces because he refuses to say no (for complex reasons) to anyone. Equally, people like Obi-Wan or Padme have consistently prioritised grand duty over their own needs.

Ahsoka is wise enough to look at the people around her and rather than emulate them she sees the ways in which they are breaking and chooses a different path. Her great lesson is in choosing which behaviours to emulate and which to reject.

I would argue that the best parts of what Ahsoka becomes are the things she learns specifically and uniquely from Anakin. Season 7 of TCW, as well as Rebels, and the Ahsoka TV show, are all meditations on Ahsoka saving “the little guy” rather then fulfilling some grand “greater good” mission.

It’s literally made explicitly clear that Rafa and Trace are not the sort of people a “real” Jedi would help. Ahsoka immediately adopts them/gets adopted into their family and goes out of her way to help them specifically. In Rebels we never really see much of her Fulcrum activity (and the title quickly gets passed on) but we do see her saving babies. The Ahsoka TV show (and build up in the Mandalorian) is notionally about the strategic threat of Thrawn but really is about rescuing Ezra (and when she has to choose between trying to stop Thrawn or save Ezra and Sabine she chooses the latter).

These are all compassionate, yes, but also deeply interpersonal attachments.

Things she learned from Anakin. Specifically Anakin. Only Anakin.

I don’t know how much clearer the text (flawed as it is) can be. “Real” Jedi met Rafa and Trace, looked at their circumstances, and said “no worries, the Force is chill with this”. Ahsoka saw people in need and helped. A “Real” Jedi wouldn’t have gotten involved in drug smuggling to help their friends out. A “Real” Jedi wouldn’t abandon the mission for their friends.

Anakin would. Anakin did, all the time. Ahsoka watched and learned and did it better. Doing it better in effect meant rejecting the strictures of the Jedi order, and not feeling guilty about doing so.

I love the clone wars trio bc I see them all as different commentaries on the Jedi of the time.

Obi Wan is what the Jedi were.

Anakin is what the Jedi preached against.

Ahsoka is what the Jedi should aspire to be.

Obi Wan had the best of intentions: he wanted to save Anakin, to save Satine, to save Ahsoka. But in the end he failed due to Sith scheming. He was set up to fail, wether it be his dead master or the intergalactic war he was forced to fight in. And in the end Anakin did fall from the light, Satine was killed in Maul's quest for revenge, and Ahsoka walked away. He was a well-intentioned man with a good heart who was ultimately set up to fail by the Sith.

Anakin too wanted safety for his loved ones, but he took it to far. Instead of prioritizing those people, their wants and needs, he prioritized the way they made him felt. Instead of selfless love, he loved selfishly, which is exactlaly what the Jedi are against. They're not against love, they're against attachment. Anakin couldn't let go of Ahsoka: it corroded his faith in the Jedi, sowed seeds of resentment. He couldn't accept that Padme or Obi Wan didn't agree with his vision, because if they don't make him feel good, then they no longer love him. Anakin was a kind boy twisted by the Sith and his misguided attachment to others.

Ahsoka falls into a similar category as Obi Wan, except for one detial. She walked away. She recognized that the Jedi were unintentionally loosing themselves in war. And even through she was a spectacular warrior, a talented commander, she recognized that it wasn't supposed to be her job. She was able to let go of her attachment to Anakin and the 501st. She was a product of her masters and friends, of Obi Wan, Anakin, Padme, and all the others who influenced her growth. And even in the end, when her world fell, she still acted with compassion and understanding, which is exactly what a Jedi should be. Despite her discomfort with the twisted meaning of the title, Ahsoka embodied the fundamental traits of a Jedi. Not flawless, but an empathetic peacekeeper capable of embracing love and rejecting attachment.

Idk if I'm articulating it right, but the general idea is there.

[siriuslyobsessedwithfiction]

Friendly reminder this is the "found family" Nyx will grow up with.

Feyre: His mother who made "the found family" hate his aunt Nesta for "always sneering" and "letting her hunt", even though she tried to hunt and wasn't good at it, did all the housework, suffered years of physical abuse so she wouldn't have to. All the while excusing his other aunt Elain sitting on her ass because she was polite about it. His mother Feyre who threw hysterics because his aunt Nesta hung out in slums. His mother who didn't care there were slums in Valaris, poverty in Hewn City and Illyria while she built her fifth mansion, opened an art studio and occasionally spared some charity. His mother who locked his aunt Nesta away with a creepy man she repeatedly tried to get away from, who berated her, verbally and physically assaulted her, had sex with her at the time she felt completely unloved and used sex as a coping mechanism.

Rhysand: His father who is President Snow from Hunger Games to Illyria, Hewn City and probably every other Court. His father who claims to be the most powerful high lord in one sentence and whines how change takes time and he can't do anything about it in the next. His father who enforces segregation between Hewn City and Valaris, doesn't enforce the law to stop femicide, mutilation and rape of female Illyrians, lets children live in poverty and war camps. His father Rhysand who repeatedly threatened to kill his aunt Nesta over everything. His father who drugged and assaulted his mother. His father who took his mother's bodily autonomy, hid from his mother that pregnancy would kill her and didn't take the risk to allow her to shift into Illyrian form to save her life. His father who made a stupid pact to die with his mother. His father who orphaned him.

Cassian: His uncle who saw that Azriel was romantically interested in Mor, felt jealous over it, and agreed to have sex with her knowing it would hurt Azriel. His uncle Cassian who gifted his one night stand lingerie in front of everybody, including his mate. His uncle Cassian who didn't respect his mate's boundaries, threw a tantrum when she refused his present after he gifted his one night stand lingerie and nobody gifted her anything during the celebration. His uncle Cassian who always made it about himself at the time when his mate was at her lowest and told her that he hated being shackled to her, told her he didn't understand why her sisters loved her, controlled her diet, had sex with her at the time she used sex as a coping mechanism, took her on hikes until she collapsed at the time she was suicidal, laughed at her when she fell down the stairs and had to crawl back up injured, never defended her when his brother threatened to kill her, always hypersexualized her, never told her he loved her. And never apologized for any of this shit.

Mor: Who didn't emphasize with his aunt Nesta even though she was also going through trauma of being physically and sexually abused. Mor who wanted to throw his aunt Nesta to the same people who abused her. Mor who doesn't try to make Hewn City and Valaris a better place and unite them. Mor who hid from his mother Feyre that the pregnancy would kill her.

Amren: Who was bitchy to his aunt Nesta for no valid reason and advised Cassian to break her and then offer a helping hand. Which he did. Amren who is always dismissive of his aunt Nesta and commands her around even though she has done more than she has. Amren who also hid from Feyre that the pregnancy would kill her.

Every time I remember this is Nyx's family, Meet the Grahams starts playing in my head.

Edit: Since it went over some people's head, I'll clarify that I fear Nyx will grow up to be a hypocritical arsehole like the rest of them while they groom him to be Rhysand Number 2. I sincerely hope the kid will somehow break free from their influence and learn to think for himself.

[loredrinker]

Framing Forgiveness - Solas Atonement Ending (Romance)

There are a few things that stand out for me around Lavellan’s forgiveness of Solas in the Atonement ending. 

1) Only a romanced Inquisitor speaks words of forgiveness to Solas specifically 2) Lavellan’s forgiveness comes before Mythal speaks  3) Mythal does not ask for forgiveness 

Lavellan Forgives 

Forgiveness is not comfortable; it is controversial because it can be viewed as weak or foolish. However, it is an incredibly strong act of free will and when given in truth, it offers spiritual, emotional and psychological healing. It liberates the forgiver and the forgiven.  

I’m actually impressed that the devs made this choice in the game and chose to tie it to love, framing it as an intimate and emotional act - an act of love.  

Forgiveness is about choosing to let go of resentment, it breaks cycles of guilt and vengeance, it helps to shift beliefs rooted in self-loathing. It does not erase what has been done. But it grants Lavellan agency. To forgive is to refuse to be defined by suffering. She is not the victim of his betrayal but takes ownership of how this story ends.

And what makes forgiveness powerful is that it forces the forgiven to see themselves through the eyes of the forgiver. For a man who has spent so long seeing himself as the villain, the betrayer, the destroyer - what must it be like to be met, instead, with grace – from the woman he admits he betrayed? 

One of the more difficult aspects of forgiveness, and why some may struggle with it, is that it isn’t always earned. Some don’t like that Solas could be forgiven before he has earned it. But the game doesn’t present forgiveness as a reward – it presents it as a gift. And that is when forgiveness is at its most powerful, when it can change a person, when it offers healing.  

Limiting the forgiveness to a romance is interesting. To have all characters forgive Solas would have made forgiveness feel like a general moral principle, rather than the personal act of emotional transformation I think Veilguard was going for in the Atonement ending. It also offers the idea that true redemption begins with love, not with punishment. If we only forgive someone when we feel they have fully atoned, then forgiveness is not about grace, it’s a transaction.  And that’s the messy thing about forgiveness, it comes first, when there is no guarantee that the forgiven will atone.   

I think for Solas’ arc, that gift of forgiveness is highly symbolic and impactful considering his history.  

And I love that the devs chose to position her forgiveness ahead of Mythal.  

Lavellan’s Forgiveness Before Mythal’s Release 

Sola's life has been dominated by Mythal – a bond as profound as it was painful.  With Lavellan offering forgiveness before Mythal speaks, she is standing independently from Solas’ legacy of entanglement with Mythal, away from all that pain and regret. 

Lavellan’s forgiveness is not divine or bestowed like a ruler pardoning a crime – her forgiveness is mortal, intimate and human.  By positioning this before Mythal, we are reminded of his humanity, but also of his personal connection to Lavellan, that she symbolizes a place for him to belong as himself – as Solas. He was Solas first, after all.  

Solas’ turning point isn't dictated by Mythal’s authority alone, but also by this personal moment.  If we, the player were only given Mythal’s voice at the end without the voices of Rook and Lavellan before her, it might have felt like a convenient way to absolve Solas of his guilt.  Instead, this gradual approach – Rook’s appeal, Lavellans’ forgiveness and then Mythal’s release – make this emotional shift feel earned rather than a deus ex machina moment.  

Mythal Does Not Seek Forgiveness Nor Offer An Apology 

If Mythal had asked Solas for his forgiveness, it would have acknowledged that Solas had power over her in that moment.  By having Mythal not seek forgiveness, the game reinforces that their relationship was never truly equal, that Mythal always dictated the terms.  Mythal had to be the one to dictate the terms of their parting.  It is also a fascinating exploration of their differences – Solas carries guilt, Mythal carries responsibility. She acknowledges they did many wrongs together, made terrible choices together, but she does not seek emotional resolution for it. 

If Mythal had apologized it would suggest that the past can be undone, old wounds closed.  But Mythal doesn’t give Solas any of that. This is very fitting – Solas' entire story has been about trying to fix his past mistakes.  Mythal’s lack of apology forces him to accept that some things cannot be undone and she denies him an easy emotional resolution. Instead, he must find his own way forward, despite the wrongs he did.   

Lavellan’s Forgiveness – Mythal's Release 

Mythal releases Solas as a leader releases a soldier. Lavellan stays as a lover choosing to stand beside him. Mythal says “I release you.”, Lavellan says “There is no fate but the love we share.” Mythal’s statement is about a duty ending.  Lavellan’s is about love enduring.   

But Solas’ fate is in his own hands now – and that moment where he looks back at the tear in the Veil, he is choosing.   

I feel like I need to add that this isn’t about diminishing Rook here. Rook offers a chance to atone - tied to duty. Returning the dagger to Solas is a gesture of trust, an acknowledgment that he still has a choice - but it comes with an expectation: bind yourself to the Veil. Set things right. Like Mythal, Rook does not release Solas from consequence.  

But this post is focused on forgiveness - its power, and that Lavellan offers the personal, emotional resolution that Mythal withholds.

I really appreciate the game having the courage to incorporate forgiveness into this world state. To offer grace as an aspect of this story’s ending is beautiful and fitting in the Veilguard setting, a game where many of the companions have to walk through their own forms of forgiveness and letting go.  

Forgiveness can be uncomfortable because it challenges the idea that justice is solely about punishment. It forces us to reckon with the full complexity of a person - not just their worst actions. In Solas’ case, it requires seeing him as more than the sum of his crimes - it demands acknowledging that he was not only a destroyer but also someone who cared, who loved, and who suffered. And by contrast, it demands viewing Lavellan and her forgiveness in the same light - not as naive or weak, but as someone making a deliberate, choice of strength to see beyond her own pain and shape what comes next.  

[trujinxie]

Susato Mikotoba and Internalized Misogyny

Susato holds herself in such low regard. This is one thing, but it becomes even more gut wrenching once you begin to interpret why she does. Given the raging misogyny and prejudice for women that permeated society in the 19th century, it’s not hard to imagine that she harbors internalized misogyny. We see her put herself down, especially in the first game, she quite literally hates herself.

She wanted to leave London, and she was caught about to throw her British Law book into the sea, the little self confidence she had as a judicial assistant was all but lost.

She felt that she did not deserve to practice law, not only because she recognized that she tampered with a crime scene, but also, how can a girl ever be worthy of the title ‘judicial assistant’? Where is a girls place in the field of law?

Do girls HAVE a place in the field of law?

From the very first case it has been made clear that women are barred from entering a courtroom in Japan. Even in British courts she is belittled and belittles herself. Even though her creating the peephole actually SAVED Gina’s case, she cannot recognize her own feat, she saved Gina, yet her internalized misogyny clouds her mind.

Moving on to dgs2, the first case has her breaking societal norms and pretending to be a man to defend her dearest friend Haori. Women were forbidden from entering a courtroom in 19th century Japan, despite how the laws of the land apply to EVERYONE.

This case also shows us more insight into her mind. If you press one of Hosonaga’s statements, she says this. I have seen the fandom brush this line off as a joke in favour of how Hosonaga replies. To me, it’s a perfect example of her internalized misogyny.

While in the position of Ryutaro, she regresses back into misogynistic rhetoric. There’s something about the horrific treatment of women in her time perpetrated by men that Susato feels she must comply with in order for the court to see her as a man. How else would they believe that it’s Naruhodo Ryutaro standing there at the defenses’ bench? Even if saying so hurts, what would become of her if they found out that Naruhodo Ryutaro did not exist? How would they react if it was found out that there was a girl in court?

It’s not her fault for worrying, even if the judge knew.

Dgs2 also reveals that her father, Yujin Mikotoba, travelled to Britain for six years. The first six years of Susato’s life. Her mother died and she was given to her grandmother while her father abandoned her.

We do not see Susato get angry at her father for doing so.

She always sings his praises and calls him “my brilliant father.” But how can that be? I’ve talked about how I think Susato deserves to lash out at her father, but does she feel like she deserves that luxury?

She clearly loves her father, but she may have felt deep resentment for him at times. How dare he come back into her life so suddenly? Did she feel bitter? Did she feel angry? But how could she be angry? Girls don’t get angry at their fathers, they treat them with utmost respect, No matter how they are treated by them. Even thinking about her father like that feels sinful. The Father was revered with great expectancy and honor, disrespecting him by showing anger would be absolutely unthinkable, right? Susato would feel terribly guilty for feeling even the slightest negative feelings about Yujin. Who is she to get angry at him, after all? How could she be such a terrible daughter?

Susato Mikotoba isn’t a person who flaunts her achievements for all to see. After a trial she congratulates Ryuunosuke.

“You did it! we got an acquittal thanks to YOU!”

What about all she’s done during trials to point her friend in the right direction? What of her own efforts? She does so much, yet she never gives herself credit where it’s due. Internalized misogyny is a powerful thing, it makes her think she’s useless, even if she were to be the one who turns the trial on its head.

There’d be countless opportunities for her, opportunities for her to thrive and learn to love herself, if only society gave her a chance.

Moved from my Twitter

[raven-dor]

kiss from a rose

in which steve rogers gets the girl… and then loses her?

PAIRING: steve rogers x avenger!reader, steve rogers x fem!reader

WARNINGS: jealousy, slight angst, typical marvel violence, witty banter (thank you Natasha), yearning!!

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

🎶 : kiss from a rose - seal

AN: yay steve!! successfully brought back my Marvel obsession!! reader has nature powers, plus telekinesis but it's green!!

It was late when he realized it. They’d just gotten back from a two-week-long recon mission when it clicked. Her hair glistened in the dim lights of his apartment, his apron wrapped around her waist as she made them dinner. 

He’d offered to help, she’d said she’d wanted to. “After this mission, you deserve a break, Cap.” 

He glared playfully, fighting the blush forming on his already rosy cheeks. “Please don’t call me that.” 

“Why not?” She smirked. “That is your title.” 

“But not my name.” He muttered, staring at her intently. “I like it when you call me my name.” 

It was her turn to blush. “Fine, fine.” He held her hand, rubbing the back gently with his thumb. Of course, she gave in. “Steve. Now, go set the table.” 

He’d never set a table faster in his life. 

And then, when he turned around and watched as her face focused on their dinner, tongue peeked out from behind her lips, his heart fluttered. He stalked over, holding the crook of her arm gently as he spun her around. Her eyes widened, pupils growing for every second she stared at him. “Steve? What are you-” 

He dove down, kissing her like it was his last moment on Earth. Like he needed her. In a way, he did. 

Her eyes fluttered shut, arms wrapping around his neck. He smiled, pulling away ever so slightly. “You’re beautiful.” 

Her cheeks felt like he’d lit them on fire. “Steve. What’s gotten into you?” 

He shrugged, nudging her nose with his. “Thought I should make a move.” 

She laughed, and his heart fluttered. “You have good instincts.”

“Are you sure?” He asked for the millionth time. “Peg’s been dying to meet you.” 

He was too nice, she told herself. She knew Peggy could not care less about seeing her. “Steve, I’ll be just fine waiting for you here.” 

“I-” He nodded. “I’ll be back.” 

“Go on.” She smiled, kissing his cheek. “You’re already late.” 

He hadn’t been gone long when she received two texts from Nicholas Fury. She frowned reading it, their boss had always had the most inconvenient timing. Walking down the hall, she gazed into Peggy’s room, smiling at the pair. Steve sat diligently at her bedside, every week, like clockwork.

“I couldn’t leave my best girl-” 

Jealousy ripped through her like a disease. 

Peggy and Steve had had their time, but she was married. She wasn’t even someone Steve was remotely interested in anymore. 

But when Y/N watched the man she’d grown to love staring at her like that, she couldn’t help but listen to the tiny devil on her shoulder. It’s not like they were dating, they’d only kissed for the first time last night. She shouldn’t care, she told herself over and over.

She shouldn’t be jealous. 

A tear fell down her cheek, and she gasped, turning away from the door to wipe it away.

“Something wrong?” His voice pulled her from her thoughts.

Shaking her head, she turned back around, smiling lightly. “Not really. Fury texted. Said we still needed to turn in some paperwork for the mission.”

“Ah.” He looked disappointed. She didn’t blame him. 

“I can do it, no need to leave her or-” 

“No! No, I’d be happy to help.” He smiled, reaching for her hand. “I would love to.” 

God, he was charming. It was hard to be jealous when he looked at her like that. “Maybe it would be best…” Her voice grew quieter with each word. “It would probably be quicker if I did it by myself.” 

“Oh.” He sounded weak. “If that’s what you want.” 

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Handing him the keys, her heart skipped when his fingers brushed hers.

His head tilted. “Are you walking?” She nodded once more, and he looked utterly confused. She would be too, considering she had been the one to drive here. It was a company car, but still. “Let me drive.” 

“It’s fine, really-” 

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” He spoke like he meant it. She knew he meant it. “Please.” 

How could she say no?

She’d been home for approximately four hours when she realized how stupid she’d been. Using the spare key Steve had given her months ago for ‘emergencies’ she slipped into his apartment, smiling to herself when his cologne fell out of the shadows. Throwing her coat on the counter, she walked over to the light switch, about to flip it on when a voice broke through the quiet. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

She pulled her gun out of its holster, aiming at the corner. Fury’s face peeked out from the dark, and her shoulders loosened, lowering her aim. “What the hell, Nick?” 

“What the hell to you too.” His voice was gruff. “What is my little green thumb doing in Captain America’s apartment?” 

“None of your-” 

“Business?” He raised an eyebrow. 

Her cheeks flushed. “I could ask you the same question, sir.” 

“My wife kicked me out.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “What wife-” Fury raised his phone, the text reading ‘Shield compromised.’ 

“Shit.” She hissed. “Did she-” 

“Y/N?”

“Steve.” She turned around, glad for the dark. It hid her hot cheeks perfectly. “I-” 

“Did I do something earlier?” He threw his coat next to hers, walking down the hall with a horribly beautiful look in his eye. “If-” She tilted her head toward the corner, and his eyes darted to Fury, glaring. “I don’t remember giving you a key.” 

“Do you really think I’d need one?” The old man looked at Y/N, smirking. “It’s a select group, I see.” 

Y/N glared, avoiding Steve’s gaze. “Fury-” 

“My wife kicked me out.” 

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. He was using the same line he’d used seconds before. Steve stepped in front of her, turning on the light. “I didn’t know you were married.” 

“A lot of things you don’t know about me.” 

“I know Nick. That’s a problem.” 

“Cap.” She hissed. “Be kind.” 

“Cap?” Steve hissed back. “What did I-” 

Fury held his phone up, the words he’d shown her still typed in large bolded letters. Steve’s eyes widened, and he gazed around his apartment. His arm stuck out behind him, pushing her behind him. Her heart fluttered. “Stay.” 

“I’m sorry to have to do this.” 

“Who else-” Steve sounded tight. “Who else knows about your wife?” 

“Just my friends.” His phone read ‘us three.’ 

Steve scoffed. “Is that what we are?” 

“That’s up to you.” Fury stood up, barely out of his seat when an attack of bullets shot through Steve’s wall, hitting him square in the chest. 

They dropped to the floor, pulling Fury behind the kitchen counter. “Shit,” Y/N whispered, checking for his pulse. “Shit, Cap.” 

He glared. “We’ll talk later.” 

“Why would-” He raised an eyebrow, and her cheeks flushed. “Just be safe, yeah?” 

“I will.” He nodded, smiling lopsidedly. “Are we-” 

Fury stuck a shaking hand out at Steve, a grey flash drive with Shield’s logo in his palm. “Trust no one.” 

The operating room was cluttered, with doctors and equipment at every corner. Her hands gripped the windowsill tightly, staring at her boss getting cut open on the table. “C’mon Fury. Please don’t die.” 

Steve’s hand laid over hers, a comforting presence. He said nothing, just staring at her with his mouth slightly agape. She dared to look over, frowning. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Y/N-”

“How is he?” Nat’s voice was panicked. Y/N pulled out of his hold, hugging her friend quickly. 

“Not good, Nat.” 

All they could do was watch helplessly as Fury died. And when Steve held her in his arms, flash drive digging into her back, she knew their talk would have to wait. Fury’s body was presented to them minutes after he’d been declared dead. 

She’d never seen Natasha so shaken. 

“I need to take him.” 

Nat stayed firm by Fury’s side, and Steve stepped forward. “Natasha.” 

The redhead took one last look at her boss before stalking down the hall. Leaving Maria by herself, they chased after her. She whipped around, anger flooding her normally playful gaze. “Why was Fury in your apartment?” 

“I don’t know.” God, Steve was a horrible liar.

“Cap.” Y/N turned around, looking at Rumlow with disdain. “They want you back at Shield Headquarters.” 

“Yeah, give me a second.” 

“They want you now.” His voice held something else, a secret that Y/N couldn’t decipher. 

“Okay.” 

“You’re a terrible liar you know,” Nat shot back, walking away. 

“I should-” Y/N whispered. “I should go.” 

“No.” Steve shook his head, holding her hand tightly. “Fury trusted you with this too.” His eyes looked wild. Not with passion or love, but with confusion, and worry. “I need you with me.” 

She could never say no to him. One thing stuck in the back of her mind, one thing Steve had told her without saying anything at all. Trust no one meant something bigger than a single person. It meant a system, an organization they’d both worked for, that they both protected. They were going to take down Shield. 

Shields headquarters, much like its field of work, was dark. Gloomy, grey, and dark. Absolutely no green or foliage to be seen for miles. Like always, she complained to Steve as they walked. “I understand why we have to wear our suits, but I’ve never felt more uncomfortable in my life.” 

Steve laughed, a smile cracking from beneath his normally hard exterior. “As soon as we-” His smile faded. “As soon as you get home, you can change. I promise.” 

“Steve-”  

Pierce and Steve’s supposed neighbor were huddled outside his office door, speaking in hushed tones. Y/N made an effort to stand taller, their talking coming to a halt as they approached. ‘The neighbor’ smiled, greeting them both as she left. “Captain, Terra.” 

Steve didn’t even bother to look in her direction. “Neighbor.” 

“Captain.” Pierce stuck out his hand. “My name is Alexander Pierce.” 

Y/n fought the urge to roll her eyes. The older man had always given her an unsettled feeling in her stomach. They had met multiple times before, and she saw no reason to shake his hand for the millionth time. 

“Mr. Pierce. It’s an honor.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow. What an honor indeed.

“Nick ignored my direct order and carried out an unauthorized military operation on foreign soil, saving the lives of a dozen political officers, including my daughter.” 

“So you gave him a promotion.” Steve seemed skeptical. Good. 

“I’ve never had any cause to regret it. Captain…” His voice held a sort of curiosity. In Y/N’s opinion, it was closer to nosiness. “Why was Nick in your apartment last night?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Did you know it was bugged?”

“I did,” Steve confirmed, leaning forward. “Because Nick told me.” 

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on Steve’s arm. “Fury told him months ago. And, between you and me Mr. Pierce, Nick’s been having family issues.” 

“Ah.” Pierce’s hard gaze hadn’t moved from Steve's. “Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?” She hadn’t known that. “I want you to see something.” 

“Is that live?” Steve turned around. 

Her eyes widened at the video. “Where is that?” 

“We picked him up last night in a not-so-safe house in Algiers.” 

“Are you saying he’s a suspect? Assassination isn’t Batroc’s line.” 

“He may be a deranged man, but he wouldn’t put a hit out on Fury,” Y/N whispered. “No way.” 

“It’s more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to attack the Lemurian Star. He was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer, and then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts. The last one going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” 

“Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmherst Drive.” Her heart dropped. She and Fury were by no means close, but after working with him for longer than she cared to admit, she came to know his past, just like he came to know hers. She knew things, like his first pet's name, or his family’s home address. Shit. “When I first met Nick, his mother lived in 1437.” 

“Are you saying Fury hired the pirates?” 

“The prevailing theory was that the hijacking was a cover for the sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick’s death.”

“Mr. Pierce, with all due respect, Fury would never do that. You know-” Her eyes welled. “You knew him, I knew him. He may have played dirty occasionally, but he was no traitor.” 

“Why do you think we’re talking?” The older man replied. “I took a seat on this council because Nick asked me to because we were both realists. We knew despite all the diplomacy and the rhetoric, that to build a better world, sometimes you have to tear the old one down. You two were the last people to see Nick alive. I don’t think that’s an accident. And I don’t think you do either.” Y/N held her breath, remaining cool under his suspicious stare. “So I’m going to ask you again. Why was he there?” 

“He told me not to trust anyone.” 

“I wonder,” Pierce murmured. “If that included him.” 

“I’m sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse me.” He grabbed his shield, and both of them walked toward the door. 

“Captain.” The pair turned around, and she ignored the annoyance that grew in her stomach. Pierce tended to only respect the men in the room. “Somebody murdered my friend, and I’m going to find out why. Anyone gets in my way, they’re going to regret it. Anyone.” 

“Is that a threat?” Y/N stepped in front of Steve, her hands glowing ever so slightly. 

Pierce simply shook his head, a strange sort of smile on his face. “Simply a promise.” 

“There’s always been something off about him.” She muttered as they waited for the elevator. “That is exactly the person we shouldn’t trust. The type of person that Fury warned us about.” Steve just stared out the window, arms crossed. She frowned. “What’s on your mind?” 

The elevator door opened, and he walked in, Y/N trailing after him. “Operations Control.” 

“Cap-” 

“Not here.” His eyes looked gloomy, like the beginning of a storm. 

“Keep all S.T.R.I.K.E. personnel on sight.” Rumlow walked in, accompanied by three agents Y/N had never seen. “Cap. Terra.” 

“Rumlow.” 

“Evidence response found some fibers on the roof they want us to see. You want me to get the tac team ready?” 

“No. Let’s wait and see what it is first.” 

“Right.” Rumlow looked jittery. Odd, she thought to herself, he was normally quite calm. Four more agents entered on the next floor. With no warning, Steve grabbed her hand, pulling her in front of him. She could feel his breath on her neck. Rumlow’s voice was hushed. “I’m sorry about what happened with Fury. It’s messed up, what happened to him.” 

“Thank you,” Steve muttered. 

Three more agents entered on the floor after that, and she squeezed Steve’s hand. A fight was imminent. Steve squeezed back before letting go. Summoning the small bit of energy in her hands, she stood tall, her face hardening. 

“Before we get started-” Steve’s voice was confident, firm. “Does anyone want to get out?” 

It was all a blur. She threw three agents against the door, knocking them out. Steve broke out of their hold, smacking the one who’d held him in a chokehold against the window. Rumlow pulled out his taser rod, slamming Steve in the back. 

“Hey!” Y/N yelled, building up an energy blast in her hand and breaking the rod out of his hand. “That’s not very nice, Rumlow.” 

Rumlow scoffed, pulling his two backups out of his belt. “Whoa, big guy.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “I just want you to know, Cap, this isn’t personal!” He jumped forward jabbing Steve in the side before he was thrown into the ceiling.

“It kinda feels personal.” Steve grabbed his shield, turning around and looking her over for injuries. “Are you alright?” His voice was barely a whisper, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

She hummed, leaning into his touch. “I’m fine.” She wiped his brow with her sleeve, the smallest bruise forming. “Are you?” 

“Fine.” He lied. He canceled the emergency stop, the doors opening to reveal twenty Shield officers aiming straight at them. He stilled, placing a protective arm in front of her. 

“Drop the shield and put your hands in the air.” The lead yelled out. 

Without any warning, Steve spun around, cutting the elevator lines with one fell swoop. After the elevator stopped, he tried to door again, even more agents waiting for them than before. 

“Steve-” She hissed, watching as he eyed the window. “Don’t-” 

“There’s no other way out.” He quipped. 

Her hands glowed as she shook them in the air. “Hello?” 

“I have to say-” She whispered, burying her face in her hood. “Hiding the top secret hard drive in a public vending machine is not your smartest idea.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Did you have a better one?” 

“Keeping it on my person crossed my mind.” She teased, nudging his side. “It’s not like all of the secrets Fury has been hiding from us are on it.” 

“Stop worrying. It’s-” Empty. All the gum had been bought, along with, Y/N thought to herself, a free flash drive. Nat’s face reflected off the glass, popping a bubble from the gum she had bought. In any other situation, she would have laughed. 

Steve grabbed her arms, pushing her into the room behind them. “Where is it?” 

“Safe.” 

Y/N watched with mild fascination. 

“Do better.” 

“Where did you get it?” Nat questioned. 

“Why would I tell you?” 

“Fury gave it to you. Why?” 

“What’s on it?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Stop lying.” He shook the super spy.

Y/N’s smirk broke. “Steve-” 

“I only act like I know everything, Rogers.” 

“I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn’t you?” 

“Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in so do you.”

“I’m not going to ask you again.” Steve was practically seething. Y/N reached out, placing a hand on his arm before Nat spoke once more. 

“I know who killed Fury.” 

“The Winter Soldier. Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out. But he was there, and I was covering my engineer. So he shot him, straight through me. Soviet slug, no rifling. Bye-bye, bikinis.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now.”

“Going after him is a dead end. I know, I’ve tried.” She held up the hard drive. “He’s a ghost story.” 

“Then let’s find out what the ghost wants.” 

“How much time do we have?” The three of them huddled around the computer as Nat tried to access the hard drive. 

“About nine minutes from…” She plugged the drive in. “Now. Fury was right about that ship. Somebody is trying to hide something. This drive is protected by some sort of AI, it keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands.” 

“Can you override it?” 

“The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me.” 

Y/N laughed. “I thought that wasn’t possible.” 

“Ha-ha. I’m running a tracer, so if we can’t read the file, the least we can do is find out where it came from.” 

“Can I help you guys with anything?” 

Nat laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, no. Just fulfilling my maid of honor duties. Helping my brother and his fiance find some honeymoon destinations.” 

“Right,” Steve spoke through his gritted teeth, slinging an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “We’re getting married.” 

She felt like she was on fire. Steve looked down at her with heart eyes, and she melted, relaxing in his hold.

“Congratulations.” The employee smiled. “Where are you guys thinking about going?” 

“Jersey.” She smiled back. 

“Huh.” The employee stared at Steve, too long for it to be nothing. “I-” Shit, he knew. “I have the exact same glasses.” 

Oh. “You two are practically twins.” Y/N teased. 

“Yeah, I wish.” The other man laughed. “Specimen. If you guys need anything, I’ve been Aaron.” 

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled, looking up at Steve as she mouthed the words ‘perfect specimen.’ His cheeks grew red. 

“You know it?” Nat gestured to the screen, breaking the moment in two. 

Steve looked solemn, nodding. “I used to.” 

Nat hissed as they moved out of the Apple store. “I’ll meet you in the parking garage, don’t get caught.” 

“What?” Y/N widened her eyes. “Why-” 

Steve grabbed her hand, pulling her onto the escalator. “It’s alright, we’ll get out of here soon.” He tilted his head, taking his turn to tease her. “Scared to be alone with me?” 

“Steve.” She gasped, smacking his chest. “Don’t fish for compliments.” 

“Oh?” He smirked. “So you had a compliment?” 

She turned around, eyes widening when she saw Rumlow step onto the adjacent escalator. “Kiss me.” 

He looked pale. “What?” 

“Rumlow-” She sighed. “Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortabl-” Steve’s lips smashed against hers, his arms snaking around her waist. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she received a sudden burst of deja vu. Pulling away, she turned around, walking the rest of the way down. “I wasn’t finished.” 

Steve shrugged. “I got the point.” 

“So-” Nat leaned forward, looking between the two. “What happened?” 

Y/N tensed, looking back at her friend. “What do you mean?” 

“You two haven’t looked at each other since you got in the car.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “What happened?” 

Steve cracked the smallest smile, and Natasha gasped, smacking Y/N’s arm. “You kissed him!” 

“What?” Y/N yelled. “Why was it me that kissed him?” 

“Oh.” Nat’s smirked widened. “So it happened then?” 

Steve laughed. “Is this something you talk about?” 

“I-” She felt like she was going to burst. This was much too much attention on her. “It was for the mission, Nat.” 

Steve frowned. “I wouldn’t say so.” 

Nat was fully grinning. “He wouldn’t say so.” 

“Natasha.” Y/N hissed. “Leave it be.” 

“Fine, fine.” She held her hands up in defeat. “Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?” 

“Nazi Germany. And it’s not stealing, it’s borrowing.” 

“All right.” Nat nodded. “I have another question for you. Of which you do not have to answer. But I feel like if you don’t answer, that sort of answers-” 

Steve sighed. “What?” 

“Was that your first kiss since 1945?” 

Y/N choked on air, and Steve placed a hand on her back, rubbing it gently. “Breath.” 

She glared, flipping him and Natasha off. Nat smirked. “I was just wondering how much practice you’ve had.” 

“You don’t need practice.” 

“Everyone needs practice-” 

“It was not my first kiss since 1945. I’m ninety-five.” He cut her off. “I’m not dead.”

“Nobody special though?” Nat egged on. If there were no repercussions, Y/N would blast her out of the car then and there. 

Steve quickly looked over at Y/N before looking back at the road. “There’s someone.”  

“Do tell.” 

“Nah.” He shook his head, smiling to himself. “I don’t think I will.”

taglist:

[vanillabeanbabe]

Holds me tight, then lets me go.

n/t: can y’all tell i need this man so bad? lmk. anyways, might make this into a small series. asks are open if you want to request something or if you wanna chat!

ingredients: reader is fresh out of college ayeee, free internship, she was selected cause her grades were amazing okay. sex w someone else was had but no description of it. suggestive. viktor is so KIND 💜

Summer was coming to an end, but it was beautiful anyways.

You were enjoying your last vacation before entering your Internship at Piltover’s most prestigious Academy, deciding you needed a break from the arts and maybe dipping your toes in another one of your passions, botany studies, after hesitation, you finally caved in and signed up for the course.

Without expecting much, actually, one could never guess that Piltover would care for someone from the undercity, lucky you, huh?

In your honor, and like the gods intended,a party was thrown to celebrate your departure, and your hope for a better chance. Happiness and bliss were felt in the room.

“Congrats on the internship, babe!” Said your best friend, Gigi, wrapping her hands around your waist and hugging you from the back, peppering a kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks” Smiling through your words and dragging your ‘s’ a bit longer.

“Couldn’t have done it without you!” Getting away from her grasp and turning around to hold her by her cheeks, earning a giggle from her.

“You should be thanking your big brain, piltover is so not ready for you”

“Is anyone ever ready for me?” You said as Gigi and you shared a knowing look.

As the party went on, so did your longing feelings, leaving the place you grew in behind you, all the people that watched you evolve into the person you are today, into what you’re about to become.

Okay. Enough with grieving, it’s a celebration, and celebrate you shall, already eyeing your lover for the night, your last bad decision before leaving the nest.

—

Ah yes, the glorious morning after, from not so glorious sex, one might add.

Painful pounce from your head, eyes heavy and dry from not properly taking off your makeup, previously straightened hair frizzed up fighting to get back into its curly shape.

Stretching out your sore shoulders you look to your side and find your lover, Jaden? Jacob? only god knew his name, but you were certain of your cluelessness.

“Morning, gorgeous” A yawn escaping his lips. You cringed, never been a fan of corny stuff.

Giving him your best fake smile. A hand sneaking into your thigh and you took it as your cue to get up and wrap yourself into your bedsheets, fetching your bra and underwear in the process.

“Oh come on, it’s too early!, come back to bed” Corny guy caressed the bed as he tried to give you his “best” attempt at bedroom eyes.

Ew. You thought to yourself.

“Sorry love, i have to finish packing” Sliding your panties on first and going for your bra next.

“Why waste time in someplace like Piltover? One always has the most fun here, plus…” His eyes trailing off.

“I don’t actually think you could handle that”

Mhm. So we’re going there.

“…Handle what?” A questioning tone lacing your voice.

“Science, it’s not really a…well…girl thing? I thought…well it’s known for being a…a…”

Hesitating, but you were certain of what he meant.

“A man thing?” You said, finalizing his thoughts.

Earning a nod from him as he formed his lips into a thin line.

You walked to the door and opened it for him, urging his departure.

—

“He did not said that!” Gigi gasped as you retold your little morning rendezvous while strolling through Zaun’s markets.

“For my bad luck, he did, it’s actually so bad, i can’t believe i let him inside me! while he had those thoughts about me!” Grasping her arm as you walked.

“Speaking of, how was it?”

Sigh.

“So bad i considered becoming celibate for life” Her laugh bloomed through the streets.

“See? this is why you should consider joining Mina and i” She said while taking a sip from her drink.

Putting your hand on your chest, you exhaled heavily.

“The offer is tempting, but i’m afraid i have to decline, poly’s not for me, all attention must be aimed at me alwa-“

Your speech interrupted by a body crashing into yours. A noise of metal clattering on the floor. Followed by a groan, deep enough to know it came from a man. Lifting your gaze, you faced what was in front of you.

What a sight for sore eyes, you thought to yourself. Skin pale as marble, now messy hair tousled into his perfectly carved face.

Now this, these are the type of people who are made with love, his parents must have high fived while they-

“You should watch your step, miss, conversation with friends is…important, but so is safety” Thick accent seeping through his voice while whisky colored eyes saw right through you. Trying to not let your quick mouth get the best of you, a soft sorry escapes your lips.

“You’re so right, i should’ve been more aware” You said as you got up.

The man reached for his cane and eye contact remained, as if trying to state the obvious. A blush creeping on your neck as realization hits you, already bending over to help him get up, an embarrassed smile on your face. Tense gaze of his softening at the sight of your smile.

“You’re good, right?” Earning a nod from him.

“I could be better, but yes, uh…take care of yourself and…watch your step” He waved at you while the sound of his cane hitting the ground signaled his exit. Staring at his slowly disappearing frame.

“Why was he kinda…” You said as you lowered your gaze and playfully bit your lip.

“Oh no girl, don’t even think about it.” Gigi said and a chuckle was emitted from you.

“He was nice! but…he looks like he’s from Piltover, and i’ve heard a thing or two about those”

“Well…that’s gonna be your new reality in a few days, babe”

You sigh in defeat. Let’s just hope they’re all as nice and hot as him.

[ragnarockz]

Ok but what happens when Rio asks to learn more about Nicky to feel closer to the both of them? How does our favorite detective react?

🥺

Agnes is super defensive over him and her memories of him; the little amount of time they had together

They're sitting at the kitchen table, their coffees gone cold between them as Vidal tries to break through the crack that is Nicky

Agnes does the whole 'if I can be jovial about this it'll hurt less' approach and that all lasts for about a sentence or two before her face darkens and she's sucked back into that excruciating long day at the hospital

"He got very, very sick, Vidal...it all happened so fast..."

Agnes slumps in her chair and holds her forehead, elbow to the table as if still trying to figure out how to save her son

Vidal can only sit there and embrace Agnes' pain

Her own thoughts rush in, thoughts of how she' heard whispering since coming to Westview of how Agnes' son died. How she mistreated him. How she was too young and how it was because she was a runaway with no family and no job and access to drugs. How it was because she didn't have a good man in her life. It makes Vidal want to vomit

She never tells Agnes this; she's pretty sure she's heard all these rumors herself. How many times did she lay awake at night and maybe even start to believe them? How many times did she tack them on to the ever growing list of faults?

"Did you do this all alone, Baby?"

"No, I had Alice with me."

And that crack suddenly starts to get chipped away and Vidal and breathe a little easier as Agnes starts to let her in

"You and Alice...you must have been close? Trusted each other a whole lot."

"Yeah, we were...I did. We...she took me under her wing after I left my mothers and she took care of me while I took care of Nicky."

"And you two?"

"What about us, Vidal? That's ancient history..."

"I'm not jealous! I just want...to know you. I want to know you from then. What got you to here?"

And Agnes has to stop and think because can she tell Vidal? Does she want to tell her? What difference does it make now since neither Alice nor Nicky are in her life anymore

"I was just a baby myself trying to navigate motherhood and my sexuality...I felt alone, alienated, and then Alice just... accepted me."

"You two..."

"Five years. Until...Nicky died and she went away to school, and I stayed in Eastview."

"That's a long time to be with someone at that age..."

And Agnes bites the inside of her cheek, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Her hands are shaking, leg bouncing under the table. She can't look at Vidal, not yet

"...I had a ring picked out; kept it in my pocket for months...waiting for the right time..."

And the silence expands throughout the house. A different time and place; Agnes feels like she's suffocating

"You...never went after her?"

And Vidal's words suck Agnes back to the present, their eyes finally meeting

"I couldn't. Didn't feel right. She had so much going for her...I didn't want to tie her down to me."

And it's Vidal's turn to choke back her tears because at the end of it, that is all just so Agnes it's painful. The fear of having someone stay; asking them to stay. The fear of shared sorrow over joy. The fear of being seen. Te veo

"You should reach back out to her...I see the cards from her you bring in and hide...she still cares."

"It's pity."

"It's love, Agnes. Please. She still cares about you; she still considers you her friend."

Agnes stares down Vidal, studying the calm expression on her face. She blows out a deep exhale

"I wouldn't know where to start...does she want me back in her life like that? Does she care? Does she just send me cards because she feels just as guilty as I still do?"

Vidal bites her lip then, digging into her pocket before she takes out her own business card with a number scribbled in pen on the back of it

Agnes reaches forward timidly as if the paper is going to burst into flames; a secret she's is not allowed to know

[wheredostarsgowhenyoudie]

OMG. You get it, and I love you for it!

Tushan Jing really was the embodiment of a perfect jade. Handsome, smart, with multiple talents that excels above others, born as the legitimate heir of a powerful clan known for their wealth, trades and cunning, the undeniable and uncontestable pride of the descendants of the nine tailed fox. There could be no other perfect heir than him.

As a perfect jade, there'd be a line of women young and old wanting to love him because it would be oh so easy, they might even claim they already do before they even met him.

But then his own brother broke him in ways way worse than a monster would. Tushan Hou broke not just Jing's body. Tushan Hou ensured to destroy Jing by eviscerating his self esteem, his spirit until he became unrecognizable even to himself. Hou spent a lot of thought, time and effort to break everything that he envied in Jing to the point that it cannot be returned because Jing himself saw no reason to even try or hope for it.

Imagine being beaten and tortured, your powers clipped, and then when you're at your ugliest and most damaged, they throw you at the familiar street where all those who claimed to love and admire you just walk past you. No one helps because even if it's you, you do not look like your old perfect self. Did they even recognize you? Even if they did, would they help? Imagine giving up your hope on people. Imagine giving up on yourself. Imagine what it would take to realize and accept that you're alone in this world at your ugliest, most vulnerable and most abhorrent with no chance of getting help, not even from yourself because you can't. You don't even have the strength to help yourself. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not anything.

And then, and then...in that moment of brokenness and helplessness and self loathing, in that desperate moment when all others who had been in Jing's shoes would break, by sheer luck or a miracle or destiny, there came Wen Xiao Liu.

This untidy looking man who saw a beaten to death body who could only be a slave by the river banks, no doubt having been brought there by the waves. He saw Jing and left. But then he returned, and actually spent thought and time to think of a way that would sound convincing, an excuse to make himself purely selfish in offering help.

Wen Xiao Lou pretended to step on the bread that someone else had thrown at Jing. He made his food inedible, so of course he had to compensate somehow! Nevermind that Jing was in the state that ge could not even lift a finger to eat the bread. Never mind that Jing in that state, if only he has the energy, would be glad to eat even a rotting bread that has flies if only for the sake of having something to eat.

And the compensation for the stepped on bread? Wen Xiao Liu not only treated and healed him and saved his life. He gave Jing something else that is greater and more valuable than anything and everything that Jing had and could have had, had he remained the embodiment of the perfect jade.

Wen Xiao Liu, who just happened to truly be a girl, disguised by a power she had no control over. An actual real runaway princess whose true identity is Haoling Jiu Yao (better known as Xiao Yao), who just happens to be the most royal of all living royals what with her being the daughter of the King of Haoling and the Princess General Xiling Heng, which also makes Xiao Yao her granddaughter to the King of Xiyan. A direct descendant to powerful rulers of enemy kingdoms. Another person who could have been the embodiment of a perfect jade. Another person who could have been so easy to love but who also just happened to be broken by fate and had accepted that there was no returning to the way she had been.

A princess who believes she'd been abandoned and is hunted by rumours to the point that she had to run away and still continues to run from her real identity. A princess who had to live in the streets and hide, because all the scary monsters wanted to eat her for her powers. A girl who had been deceived and caged and tortured and prepared to be devoured by an evil fox, but who managed to escape and kill the fox who tormented her. A girl who had been so used to being so alone that she once forced a monkey to listen to her chatter till the monkey killed itself, wanting escape. A girl who had learned to embrace and accept solitude as her only constant, and yet who is desperate for companions that she, a deity, who despite knowing she would outlive them, still chose to live among and with the humans who, like her, no one else would accept. Humans, who, like her, also had no one else. She even made them a home.

This girl with her compassionate heart that she oh so tries to hide as a cold no-nonsense and uncaring wall, and yet the compassion peeks through. Because she could not not offer the help she had once been so desperate to have yet never received.

Xiao Yao, who may just as well, be the only one who would and could look at the broken jade that is Jing and think to herself..."Jing is not a jade, so there's no such thing as a dusty jade. Jing is like the bright moon. Though the moon waxes and wanes, it remains untainted by the darkness. Its radiance is always still there. So he does not need anyone's pity." 🩷

Imagine the love and acceptance. The kind that people would throw everything just to feel even for a short bit of moment in a lifetime. Imagine the kind of faith that allowed Jing to actually start to like and love himself again, not the perfect version, but the broken one. Imagine the strength it gave to see life as something wonderful again. Imagine finally having something to hope for again and even more, to look forward to again. Imagine being loved in the very definition of unconditionally.

This is at the heart of reasons why I fell in love with the author of Lost You Forever.

The way Lost You Forever says, 'the trauma never fully goes away, but we find happiness and live anyway.'

For me this is best exemplified in two physical manners:

Xiaoyao's (assumedly quite high) cultivation and power was severely damaged by the thirty years she spent being tortured by the fox. Over and over when I read people talking about the series, people wondered when she'd get her power back.

And I get it. It would have been an amazing moment to see her powers return, to see her bursting with what must have been so much strength as the daughter of two extremely famous warriors.

But instead of that, Xiaoyao makes do with what she has. She learns how to defend herself with archery. She makes poisons. She fights in her own ways. Even in this xianxia world, she can't regain what she lost, but she does her best to make up for it.

One thing I was worried about when hearing about Tushan Jing's death is that I thought he might come back unblemished by scars, totally able bodied again. Often in xianxia when someone comes back to life, they reappear somehow, cultivated from an object or just in a flurry of sparkles and flower petals. There's not usually a dead body, so the body isn't revived; the spirit is. And this isn't a criticism of that trope.

I was just concerned that if applied to Tushan Jing, it would be done in a way that made him 'whole' again. Because a lot of pieces of media can and have done this. Magical healing and rebirth? Time to remove disabilities.

And that would have frustrated me, from a narrative perspective. But the show didn't do that! It's hard to overstate the mark trauma has left on his body; 90% of it is damaged and scarred. He is handicapped in his leg. His cultivation is also damaged. And that's still there. All of it is remains.

But despite that, despite everything, they not only move on, but they find a happy ending. They will never stop carrying that with them, but for both Xiaoyao and Tushan Jing, it doesn't matter. I like this a lot.

[quitealotofsodapop]

In the Grease Monkey AU, how do you think DBK and maybe even PIF would react when they learn that nobody has any idea where Wukong is?

Like, in canon, they were pissed, but there was at least confirmation that he was still rattling around. Here, PIF has her single-minded focus on saving her husband, but when that's done, she realizes that nobody, neither in Heaven or Earth, have mentioned seeing Wukong since he sealed her husband away.

And it probably gets worse when this random young man says something about this staff choosing him before beating up DBK.

PIF had not cared to pay attention to whatever Wukong decided to do in the aftermath of his and DBK's fight.

She was in the process of essentially mourning her husband - if not for his life, then for the years they would miss together as a family.

So when Sun Wukong isn't seen for a few years, it didn't seem suspicious. As his sworn sister-in-law, Iron Fan knew him to be an emotional type who stewed in his regrets. If he chose to rear his head once more, she would know. For some years she even had a spark of hope that the Monkey King had been in hiding to devise a plan to release her dear Bull. But that never came.

PIF found herself mourning again after a century passed. She secretly lit a candle and left an offering for her brother-in-law at one of the temples close to where her husband's body lay. Did she think he was dead? She wasn't sure. But it's better that the gods knowing she missed him as well.

When DBK learns that his xiandi's staff has chosen a new master, he feels his heart break when he thought that wasn't possible. Is... is Sun Wukong dead? Has he reincarnated into this Little Thief? Or is the Monkey King's soul rotting in the Underworld like what the BUll had just escaped? It is only later after absorbing the Staff into his armour that he realises that his little brother still lives.

Whilst Bull has no reservations telling Wukong that he worried for him, Iron Fan is far more reticent.

Red Son has mixed feelings. He hates, Hates, HATES the Monkey King for sealing away his father, and disrespecting his family! But he was still once his dear Uncle Shihou...

Complex feelings all around.

[xanadontit]

Something BFF said over the weekend clicked for me as to why she reacts the way she does and it was a good revelation but man this would have been helpful 20 years ago lol.

Background: she comes from a wealthy family and up until age 14 had what most would consider to be the perfect life: happily married parents who were successful in their fields, lovely home, cute little brother who looked up to her, every advantage you can think of (travel during school breaks, tutors, 3 meals a day prepared for her by her mom, etc.) and just straight up consistent stability. She had no real reasons to be upset and life was pretty charmed.

Her mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when we were 14 (freshman year) and she passed after we graduated high school (ON BFF's 18th birthday).

So not only were the high school years fraught because: high school/hormones/normal adolescent bullshit and growing pains but her mom was sick off-and-on (she went into remission twice) and that's obviously a lot to deal with. Except in her WASPy house no one would acknowledge that this all sucks and everyone in that house had the right to be angry and hey let's support each other and figure out how to express this in a healthy way. Oh no. We're gonna rug sweep like you've never seen and keep calm and carry on. Big smiles everyone! Also, if you kids could get straight As and be athletic stars and look cute at all times that would be fantastic. Then they did that.

The few times she'd dip a toe into the pool of emotional honesty she was punished. Not literally, but definitely admonished and encouraged to focus on the positive, don't add more stress by expressing needs, big smiles everyone!

So BFF had never learned how to manage anger (or disappointment or sadness) in her personal relationships, and I think because her first marriage was pretty conflict-heavy she gets extra defensive when someone tells her they feel hurt. And look: no one likes being told "you hurt my feelings" or "this upset me" so I get it. But her instinct is to get either 1) turn it around on you ("oh yeah well what about...?") or 2) assume you are done and basically breaking up with her.

This explains...literally almost every conflict we've had. Note: we've been friends for over 40 years so there's been little, childish things and bigger stakes issues over that long period of time.

Anyway, this has bled over into her second marriage where she assumes that any time her husband is angry about anything he's about to bolt. Which is obviously not true. Even if he's upset with her he's just being a human with feelings! Luckily she brought this to a therapist and has been working to manage this so she doesn't tank every important relationship in her life and make herself insane in the process.

It also explains why she's distanced herself from me a little; I feel like we're family and while I try to be mindful in my words, I have definitely expressed to her the times I've been sad/disappointed/hurt by her and her instinct is to deflect or retreat. I interpreted it as a selfish "my shit doesn't stink" attitude but oh man. She was reacting purely reflexively and emotionally.

I swear the entire weekend wasn't big, heavy talks lol but this was a good one.

[tare-anime]

"In the Quiet of Growing Hearts"

Chapter 2: Date Interrupted, but Still Perfect (AO3)

Prompts: Date and Picnic

My late Valentine's entry @twiyorbase ^^;

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

“Papa! Make sure you give Mama the card I made!” Anya’s energetic voice fills the room as she waves her tiny hand.

“Yes,” Loid answers, his tone tired.

“And don’t forget to give her the best smooch,” Franky adds, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I’m not going to—”

But the door slams shut before he can finish. The sound of cheerful laughter and barking echoes from the other side, where Anya, the dog, and the caretaker are already starting to create their usual chaos in the apartment.

Loid groans, wiping his face in frustration. He really needs to make sure none of them turned the apartment into a disaster. If they do, it will ruin his mission: giving Yor a perfect, fun day as part of Operation Strix’s maintenance program.

“But Anya’s smile is worth it.”

Yor would say that. He chuckles at the thought, turning on his heels. He can already hear her voice in his head, reminding him that he would never win that argument.

Today’s mission is to take his wife on a date.

He can’t imagine what kind of gossip would spread around the neighborhood if he forgot this most important date of the year. Everyone will be talking about his “negligence” or even “infidelity” if he didn’t follow through.

Then there is Anya’s story about Becky’s mom getting furious when her friend's dad forgot their wedding anniversary—just thinking about it made Loid break into a cold sweat.

He has been so wrapped up in side missions that he almost forgot the most crucial date of all—the one that truly pushed Operation Strix into motion.

The “real” date they signed their marriage certificate at the courthouse (not the one fabricated for their cover). The day Yor moved into their apartment and agreed to play the role of the Forger matriarch.

Loid has read countless relationship books, and they all had one thing in common: “Happy wife, happy life.” That saying is drilled into him, because his mission depends on the success of his marriage. He has to keep the “happy marriage” vibes intact—at all costs.

So, he made sure all his other assignments were done.

Reports? Submitted.

New side missions? Denied.

Gripping the picnic basket tightly, the blonde spy run through his mental checklist: freshly baked salted caramel dark chocolate pie for dessert, simple egg sandwiches for the savory part. He’d also packed the champagne glasses, carefully wrapped in soft cloth.

The only thing missing was Apfelkorn—essential to complete their simple, yet perfect “watching the sunset together” date at the park that Yor loved.

Determined, he makes his way to the nearest liquor shop he trusts.

When his knuckles rapped on the counter, he expected the usual young man to greet him. Instead, the last person he expects—an elderly woman—appears.

It is the same WISE messenger he’d met during his trip to the Berlint aquarium, the one who’d handed him a message about the penguins.

Twilight adjusts his hat, nodding toward her. “Good evening. Is Stefan not working today?”

The old woman nods. “You’ve got a mission, Twilight—”

“No,” he cuts her off quickly.

A moment of silence follows, then she continues. “This mission is straight from WISE HQ.”

“No,” Loid repeats firmly. “Today’s important for Operation Strix.”

He raises the basket as if to emphasize his point. “If I fail this mission, rumors of a failing marriage will spread like wildfire. It will ruin everything.”

“A picnic?” The messenger raises an eyebrow. “I don’t see how a picnic is more important than retrieving a contraption from terrorists.”

“This picnic,” he said with emphasis, “is at a very memorable place. It’s the key to ensuring the ‘happy wife, happy marriage’ image. Especially today of all days.” He stresses each word, certain a woman of her age will understand the significance of anniversaries.

Loid fights the urge to smirk when the woman’s expression dawns in understanding. It seems that the books he’d read were right—wedding anniversaries mattered.

With that, he continues, “And that’s exactly why I cannot—”

“I get it,” she interrupts him, cutting him off before he could finish.

Loid sighs with relief. “Well then, one bottle of Apfelkorn, please— HEY!”

Before he can finish, the woman grabs the basket from his hands and shoves a thick folder into his empty palms. “Leave your anniversary preparations to me and my team. You go to this location, ASAP!”

“WHAT?!” Loid’s eyes widened. “I said no!”

She grabs his shirt and whispers urgently, “Listen, Twilight. If the terrorists get their hands on those contraptions, who knows how many lives will be lost? The Forger family could be in danger!” She shoves him away. “Go! You’ve got one hour. We’ll make sure your anniversary is perfect down to the smallest detail.”

Before he can respond, the woman slams the booth window shut, disappearing from sight.

Loid growls in frustration, realizing he had no choice but to finish this aggravating mission in under an hour.

He has to get to the park before Yor finished her shift at the City Hall.

With determination, he quickly scans the mission details, commits them to memory, and sprints off, intent on completing it in record time.

.

.

Thorn Princess grunts as she yanks her stiletto from the lifeless body of the umpteenth bodyguard who’d tries to stop her progress toward the mansion’s underground chambers.

She turns and grits her teeth in frustration when she is once again faced with a massive, reinforced steel door.

How many of these doors does he have?

She harrumphs when grinding the lock mechanism beneath her palm. The pressure on her hand makes her fingers sore after the third steel door, but her target—her customer—keeps retreating deeper into his safe chamber.

When Yor received the last-minute assignment from the Shopkeeper, she assumed it would be a quick job—half an hour at most. She never anticipated this frustrating game of cat and mouse would drag on for so long.

And to her exasperation, after finally breaking through the third door, she is met with a sea of bodyguards, but the target himself is nowhere to be seen.

On any other day, she’d gladly play the game until her target exhausted all his resources. But today is different.

Yor has a date with her husband.

Loid has been pushing himself far too hard again, despite their conversation the other day. She guesses he hasn’t lied when he said old habits die hard. So, she is honestly relieved when he asks for a simple picnic date at the park. Perhaps he remembers their conversation, and—just maybe—he’d decided to take a break from his grueling schedule and relax for once.

It feels like an honor that he’d asked her to accompany him during this rare window of rest.

She has agreed to the time and place, and she has to be there on time.

With precision, she takes down the guards in seconds, glancing up at the clock that somehow exists in this underground lair.

She gasps when she sees the time. It is already evening.

Facing yet another steel door, Yor quickly calculates the time. There is no way she’d make it to their meeting spot on time unless she took a shortcut. It will create more work for her afterward, but time is running out.

Instead of struggling to pry open the door, Yor kicks down the walls and immediately pursues her target.

After a relentless chase, she finally catches up with the scum she needs to clean up and surly asks, “Mr. Otis of the auditing board? Would you give me the honor of taking your life?”

Rather than answering her, he screams at his underlings, “What are you doing?!! Finish her off!”

Such manners!! Yor thinks, narrowing her eyes.

With a few swift movements, the job is done.

She searches for the nearest landline and dials the familiar number.

The call is answered immediately. “Flowers for your everyday needs.”

“All the customers have been served,” Yor reports.

“Amazing work, as always.”

“.......-- Thank you.”

Perhaps sensing the hesitancy in her, the voice on the other end asks, “Is there anything else you need?”

Yor fidgets with the phone cord and glances at the clock. Normally, she doesn’t require assistance with the clean-up, but now...

She bites her lip. “Umm... do you mind sending me a helping hand? I might have made a bit of an unintended mess…”

“To the flower plants? Or the flower pots?”

“Uh... both?”

The voice chuckles softly. “No problem. We’ll send a courier to assist you with the problems. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

Yor bows deeply, relieves. “Thank you so much!”

She hangs up the phone and hastily cleans herself and her stilettos in the adjacent washroom, wiping away any remaining blood. Once she is sure there are no traces left, she changes into fresh clothes, neatly wraps her assassin tools, and stores them in the secret compartment of her bag.

Quickly ascending the stairs, she makes it to the mansion’s front door. As soon as her feet hit the yard, she sprints to their designated meeting spot.

But despite running as fast as she could, leaping from rooftops, over fences, and cutting through backyards, Yor still arrives at the park only after the sun has dipped below the horizon.

Panting and frazzled, she scans the park frantically, her heart pounding in her chest. She dreads the thought of Loid being angry or disappointed because she is late.

She catches sight of a small crowd gathering near their spot, now occupied by a performer, but Loid is nowhere in sight.

She searches the park again, but still, no sign of him.

Oh no. Has Loid already gone home? Yor think, panic rising.

Turning on her heels, she makes her way to the park entrance, planning to find a phone booth and call home. Then, just as she is about to leave, she spots Loid at the entrance, clearly out of breath. His eyes are scanning the crowd, most likely looking for her.

Yor releases a deep sigh of relief and waves at him. “Loid, over here!”

.

(Several moments prior)

.

Twilight curses under his breath as this side mission goes off the rails.

Aside from the lack of intel and preparations, he has been forced to crawl through ceiling vents, fight off burly bodyguards, and somehow still end up tumbling into a filthy sewer. And to make matters worse, the warning turned out to be a false alarm. There are no terrorist threats. Just a group of filthy rich old people, secretly gathering to swap rare (and illegally imported) idol cards.

On any other day, he would’ve been relieved to discover there is no immediate danger.

But today, that just adds fuel to his irritation.

He slams the reports onto the table in front of the WISE messenger.

“Oh my, you look—” She wrinkles her nose. “—and ugh, what’s that smell? Agent, you definitely can’t go on a date looking like that.”

Twilight scowls.

“Hey, is that the face I get after we’ve meticulously completed our part and made sure your ‘picnic date’ preparation is flawless?” she teases, pointing to the back of the stall. “Go freshen up over there.”

Twilight sighs and does as told, cleaning himself off as quickly as possible.

He ensures there are no traces of grime left, then puts on the shirt that, strangely, is a little too tight and lacks buttons on the top two parts.

“Aha! As expected. It looks perfect on you, Mr. Forger!” The messenger grins, shoving the picnic basket into his hands. “Don’t forget your meals.”

Before he can respond, she pushes him out the door and winks, giving him a thumbs up. “Go shack up with the gorgeous lady!!”

“I’m not going to—”

Once again, for the third time that day, the door slams in his face.

Suppressing his frustration, Twilight focuses on running as fast as he can. But still, he arrives unceremoniously late to the park.

His blue eyes search frantically among the crowd, scanning for his wife.

All his anxiety melts away when he hears her voice calling out.

Loid’s smile blossoms as he jogs toward her. “Yor, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

To his surprise, she shakes her head and says, “It’s okay. I just got here myself.”

Loid blinks, surprised by the unexpected news. “Something happens at City Hall?”

Yor sheepishly replies, “Well, I… accidentally dropped an entire cabinet of archive folders when I was looking for one specific one. So I had to rearrange them all.”

“How awful. It’s all done though, right?”

She nods. “Yep. I ended up asking for help, but I still got here way later than we planned. How about you? Another emergency patient?”

Twilight scratches the back of his neck and chuckles. “Yeah. And the patient even splashed me with… err… their waste. Thankfully, one of my colleagues had spare clothes, though they’re a bit small, as you can see.”

They both chuckle awkwardly.

“Well, at least the sky still has some orange hues left. So we’re technically here for the sunset.” Yor points at the sky before gesturing toward their picnic spot. “Unfortunately, someone’s taken our spot. I guess we’ll need to find another place.”

Loid frowns. He is sure the messenger lady has reserved that spot for their picnic.

But as Yor has said, a few people have gathered in the area. He squints and sees a small group of band members tuning their instruments, standing awkwardly beside a picnic blanket decorated with hearts and tiny lamps, complete with bold pink letters spelling out, “Love you, my Darling. Be mine.”

Loid groans. It must’ve been that messenger and her team doing it.

“I wonder if they’re promoting a new song or something,” Yor muses.

“Well, we’d better not disturb them,” Loid says, immediately steering Yor away from the cringe-worthy setup.

They end up on the other side of the park, settling on a rusty bench.

“Are you hungry?”

“Oh yes, very much so,” Yor answers “To be honest, I’m most curious about what kind of food you prepared for this moment.”

Loid can’t suppress his grin as a strange sense of pride fills his chest. He opens the basket and grabs… something soggy wrapped in paper.

Huh?

Confused, he looks inside and finds two soggy deli sandwiches, a bottle of dry whiskey, and a folded letter.

He picks up the letter and reads it:

Loid crumples the letter, muttering strings of profanities.

“I’m sorry the cat nibbled on your pie and sandwich. But I’m glad it did.

What kind of pathetic meal was that?! I changed it, of course.

Good food and alcohol are necessary for fornication. 😉👍”

That old hag...!!!

“Loid? Are you okay?” Yor’s concerned face appears in his peripheral vision.

Taking several deep breaths, Loid grits his teeth and whispers, “I’m so sorry, Yor. Some colleague of mine thought it would be funny to prank me today.”

“Oh dear!” His wife gasps. “What did they put in there?”

Loid sheepishly presents the soggy sandwiches. “I have prepared your favorite—sweet egg sandwiches and chocolate pie. But… this…”

“Well, at least it’s still food.”

Loid blinks at his wife’s nonchalant tone, stunned, as she unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite.

“Mmm… it’s actually edible,” she says.

“Really?” Loid’s voice sounds more like a sulking child than an adult, but what else could he do after the universe conspires against him today?

“Mm-hmm… obviously not as good as your amazing egg sandwiches, but it’s still edible.”

He chuckles, watching his wife devour the sad excuse for a sandwich.

Of course, she’ll always see the good in everything. It is one of her most endearing traits.

Yet, it doesn’t stop the pang of guilt in his chest.

“I’m so sorry I ruined everything, Yor.” He sighs, accepting his defeat.

Instinctively, Loid grabs the bottle of whiskey and unscrews the lid. He plans to take a few swigs to drown his humiliation, but slender fingers stop him from tilting the bottle.

“I don’t think that strong of alcohol will do your empty stomach any good, Loid. Besides, you didn’t ruin anything. You’re here now, and that’s the most important part.”

His wife then takes the other sandwich, opens it, and hands it to him. “Here. It’s really not bad. Besides, any food will taste better when eaten with someone else, don’t you think?”

He blinks, looking at her.

He truly is amazed by how easily she turns a bad day into something enjoyable.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” He smiles, taking the sandwich from her hand.

He takes a bite. The bread is so soggy it nearly fell apart, the ham is far too salty, the sauce is excessive, and the veggies are wilted. But as she says, eating it together made it bearable.

Or maybe it is just because it is with Yor.

“Ah, I almost forgot,” Loid says, fishing a card from the basket, which thankfully has remained intact. He hands it to Yor. “Anya wants you to have this.”

Yor looks puzzled as she takes the card and opens it. Loid watches carefully as her mouth drops open, and she lets out a soft gasp.

.

.

“Happy Annyavirsary” is written on Anya’s card in colorful lines, with cute drawings of the Forger family. There is even a paw print from Bond.

Then, she hears Loid’s soft whisper. “Happy anniversary, Yor. I’m sorry today didn’t go as planned.”

Her eyes widened.

Has it really been a year?

“I’m sorry, Loid. I didn’t realize today was the anniversary,” she interrupts him.

Loid blinks, and Yor’s heart sinks. “Oh… Oh no. I’m sorry. I should’ve prepared something too, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Loid. I didn’t—”

His chuckles stop her rambling. He snickes. “Ah geez… and here I thought I made you angry for not preparing something more meticulous.”

Yor is stunned. “That’s impossible, Loid. You’ve worked so hard every day, and you always take care of me. I couldn’t be more grateful that you’ve let someone like me be part of your family. I don’t think I’ve done enough to—”

“Yor,” he interrupts gently, “You are a godsend. I mean it. I’m the one who feels I haven’t given you enough.”

She tries to speak, but no words came out.

Loid continues, “You’ve shown me how to see the good in this world. There were times I felt frustrated, but your perspective made me realize—it can always be worse.” He waves the remnants of the soggy sandwich. “Like this thing, for example.”

Loid’s blue eyes met hers, calm and sincere. “So thank you, Yor. For your presence in my—” He pauses and corrects himself softly, “—in our life.” Then he gives her one of his rare, gentle smiles that make Yor’s heart flutter.

Yor feels her face grow warm. “I—... I feel the same. It… it’s an honor for me to be part of your family…”

“Our family, Yor,” he corrects her again.

She gasps softly at the emphasis on “our” and nods. “...Our family.”

Yor looks at Anya’s card again, then glances at her hands.

She can still see the bloodstains that marred her skin.

Her fist clenches, trying to shake off the image.

Taking a deep breath, she looks up at the purple sky above, the familiar feeling of longing heavy in her chest. A longing to be seen for who she truly is—darkness and all.

“Honestly, sometimes I still can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you and Anya. I can’t believe people as good as you would accept someone like me.”

She clenches and unclenches her fists, careful not to crumple the card. She murmurs, “I’m not exactly clean…”

Loid might understand. But…

“Hey, what’s happened in the past is in the past.” He pauses. “I’m not exactly clean either,” he says under his breath, his voice tinged with a melancholy that makes his eyes cloud with distant thoughts.

Yor’s hand twitches, eager to offer him comfort.

Loid gently continues, “I stayed true to what I said back then. I am amazed by you—by how you endure gruesome work so that others can feel safe. Anya has told me that many times. And now… I know too.”

Yor feels her eyes well up and blinks quickly to hold back the tears.

Taking a shaky breath, she whispers, “To be honest, it feels like I’ve been with you, Anya, and Bond, for far longer than a year. But at the same time, it feels like it’s gone by so fast. I’ve… I’ve never felt so fulfilled in my life before.” She meets his gaze and says with determination, “I’m really glad I married you, Loid.”

His eyes widened a factor before smiling. “Same here.” Then, he looks at the basket and groans. “Ah… I really should’ve planned a much better date. I shouldn’t have listened to Anya. Did you know she was so adamant that you’d prefer a simple picnic over a fancy dinner?”

Yor chuckles. “Well, Anya is right.”

Loid blinks. “She is?”

Her smile widened. “To be honest, the environment of a date is secondary to… to…”

Suddenly, her confidence falters under his curious gaze. She gulps nervously, her voice soft as she adds, “To… your company.”

Why is my heart beating so fast right now?

Loid blinks and then he grins. “Is that so?”

She nods stiffly.

He sighs in relief. “Well, I enjoy your company too.”

They share a soft smile, their eyes meeting for a moment before quickly looking away, both blushing.

Clearing his throat, Loid says, “Still, I do think I should do something for dessert.”

Yor chuckles and looks around. She points to a small gelato stall at the edge of the park. “How about some gelato?”

“On such a chilly day?” He raises an eyebrow.

She smiles. “Why not?”

He grins. “Sure.”

They end up with cones of gelato, strolling leisurely around the park, chatting about everything and nothing.

And as they walk, Yor thinks to herself that maybe… maybe despite all the blood she has spilled, she really has done her part in keeping the world a beautiful place. Perhaps, at long last, the universe has finally given her a place of safety.

A place she determines to protect at all costs.

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

Oh how I love to create disastrous dates for TwiYor: one, two, and this one XD Well, what can I do, these two dorks are too adorable ^^

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[anika-ann]

It's heeeeere😍😍

Alright, alright. First let me say I already love it, even if you're breaking my heart🥺 then again the gorgeous art clued me on that.

If he had a partner maybe this wouldn't be so bad? Maybe people wouldn't constantly come up to talk to him because he'd be dancing himself, someone in his arms, looking at him lovingly...

Oh the opening is already so sad🥺 but I live for the longing for a partner and it's so understandable he'd like someone to share both joy and the recently found burden with🥺

They look cold, although he has a smile plastered on his face. Fake niceties like Steve has grown used to.

OUCH. But also yes, that's probably how it is with many people for him now😭

"Black isn't really your colour." Steve's brows furrow. What was that supposed to mean? "You know many families waited for the old crone to finally step down and let you be the king. Women shouldn't hold that much power, especially when there's no king at her side to keep her in check."

I really went from wow that's rude to THE F*** DID YOU JUST SAY-

"Whatever deal you're referring to will not stand with today's laws. So you can stop badmouthing my mom and trying to get me to marry your desperate granddaughter now." Steve spits.

#proud in fact, even if the crazy deal holds, he really should stop badmouthing the saint Sarah Rogers the former QUEEN mind you- but also if the grandfather throws Steve's words about reader on her later on I will throw hands☹

He wishes she was here... That he wouldn't need to mourn her so publicly while also keeping his tears in to not seem weak. He wishes he could wear the dark blue suits she got for him because according to her that's the colour he looks the most handsome in. He wishes she could brush his hair out of his face one more time. Just once more with that sweet smile that was reserved for him only.

MISS MA'AM HOW DARE YOU to portray his grief so well, missing his wonderful ma' in big things and small ones 🥺 (not to mention the ENDING, don't get me started)

How you wish you had someone to share a seat with... to share a life with. You wouldn't have a stranger next to you. You'd have a partner. You could cuddle and mind your own business at the same time... or play a game? Would you get upset at them winning Uno? Or would you love them too much to get frustrated?

Oh I adore how her longing mirrors his. That gives me a bit of hope🥰

"You visit your family that you never see and you show up dressed like some slob. You could wear something nice every now and then." (...) You greet everyone and listen to your siblings' judgments until your grandpa stops them.

They do not deserve her, period😤

"Well I recently met the young man and reminded him of this deal. He's more than eager to fulfill it and marry you. He'll collect you and bring you to Brooken tomorrow." He squeezes your arm, a smile plastered on his face. You can't do anything but stare at him and then burst out in laughter. They were messing with you. Or playing along with your grandpa's dementia... But no one else was laughing.

Love her reaction. Fuck the grandfather's lying ass.

“It's not all that bad… at least he's handsome!” Your friend tries to reason. “Plus you'd be a queen! No more shitty job that doesn't pay you enough. You'd live in a castle and wear pretty dresses.” She offers and is met with a heavy sigh.

The friend spitting facts 🤌

“Yeah that's great but at what cost? My freedom. I really love my one bedroom apartment. You know why? Because it's mine. I can do what I want."

Yeah this makes me super sad for her, because she broke away once from her shitty family to be free and now she's wrestled into their claws again AND a marriage.

“Who knows maybe your family had blackmail material on the royals.”

"Dating must be hard when you're a king.”

“Listen, I gotta go… but give it a chance? And if he's an asshole and you need out, you text me and we'll come to break you out ok?”

...again though, love her friend saying the real things🤭 and her standing her side. #friendshipgoals

Your eyes fall on the monstrosity of dress your mother picked out for you. Maybe if you truly wore that pink pile of whatever the seamstress had left over, he'd run for the hills and you'd still be free.

😂😂 I'm sorry😂😂 good for her, save some of her spite. But that also makes me wonder if Steve will think she's trying too hard and will think she really is desperate to marry him even if she is only forced to do it too🥺

Oh the feels😭 can't wait for you to murder my heart with next chapter🥲

Not the game they play

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 4.1k

Summary: An arranged marriage flips your life upside down. What you thought you knew about your family doesn't seem to be true at all. How will Steve and you navigate your life together?

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, a swear word here and there, insulting of Sarah Rogers, yes that needed to be a warning, difficult family relationship, if I missed anything please let me know

A/N: This is the first part of a series. I had this idea for over two years with some scenes already written out or well thought through. Thank you all for encouraging me to finally do something with it. But don't come for me, you wanted this!

I promised to tag the lovely @ronearoundblindly 🩷

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Chapter One - Cannot stop the rain

The constant bustle of people and their conversations were a white noise like no other. One you can't concentrate on too long, especially when you have to hold conversation with whoever thought it was his turn to smooze a king.

Steve hates galas. He hates the pretentiousness that came with them and the people who attended but most of all he hates that he had no choice but to go. A king missing one of these was only excused when a serious matter arose. And those don't come by easily when you need them. He yearned for the times when he didn't need to attend these things, back when his mom still was the reigning queen and shielded him from this world. But with his mom gone he had to step up.

Gone where the days he travelled the world, studied art and made new friends. So easily replaced with duty and grief... and a stupid crown on his head. He was lucky enough he could hire his friends as staff, lucky enough his oldest friend was his right hand man and never left him alone for too long. James Bucky Barnes, his childhood defender, his best friend, his right hand and occasionally, much to Steve's dismay, his wingman. If only that would have worked out already. He seems to be casually watching people dance but in reality he watches the couples spend quality time together at a stuck up event. If he had a partner maybe this wouldn't be so bad? Maybe people wouldn't constantly come up to talk to him because he'd be dancing himself, someone in his arms, looking at him lovingly...

"Senator Lee is coming up next" a smooth voice mumbles over his shoulder, Sam Wilson. A friend he found in college, a politics major and his chief of staff. Steves eyes find the older gentleman approaching him. He's talked with him before, quite often actually, and he was always so kind and encouraging.

The small talk with senator Lee went by faster than Steve anticipated. Before the next person could swoop in to talk to him he excused himself to the restroom. Bucky, his honorary security detail for the evening since he refused to take his actual one, made to follow him. "It's just the bathroom Buck. I'll be fine and I'll come straight back here." he says lowly, his eyes rolling at the antics. He didn't need this much security before he became a king. Bucky hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering to Sam who looks a bit unsure himself. "I mean... It's just the bathroom... No danger there. Nat wouldn't go inside with him either right?" Steve lets out a sigh at Sam's statement. Natasha, the head of security, ruled with an iron fist. She had all of them so scared they wouldn't dare to disobey her orders... except maybe her husband Clint but he got free passes for life.

"Right... Just come right back here?" Bucky looks at him and with a sigh and a nod Steve agrees. Before they can say anything else and before whatever lady just seems to approach them can start to talk, Steve hurries to the restroom. He locks himself in a cabin just for a few moments alone. But even those aren't truly alone.

The door to the restroom opens up not too long after him and of course that person takes ages to do their business. With a silent grumble Steve finishes up and leaves the cabin to wash his hands. Just then the door to another cabin opens and an older gentleman with thinning grey hair, in a three piece suit steps out. His eyes meet Steve's in the mirror as he walks up to the sink area himself. They look cold, although he has a smile plastered on his face. Fake niceties like Steve has grown used to.

"King Rogers." He acknowledges and Steve simply gives a nod. He isn't even safe in the fucking bathroom!

"Black isn't really your colour." Steve's brows furrow. What was that supposed to mean? "You know many families waited for the old crone to finally step down and let you be the king. Women shouldn't hold that much power, especially when there's no king at her side to keep her in check. Who would have thought it would take her to die for you to finally step up." The man seems calm and collected as if he didn't just insult Steve's mother.

"What the fuck did you say about my mom? Old crone?!" His blood was boiling and he was this close to hitting the old man if it weren't for his manners. His mom raised him better but she wasn't here to keep him in check was she?

"Oh calm down Steven. No need to get all flustered and angry. Hold your tongue before you say something you'll regret. We'll be one happy family soon after all." The man smirked and calmly dried his hands. He teaches over and turns off Steve's tab, the blonde frozen from anger. What did he just say? He must be demented. "What?" Is all that Steve can bring out. Confused and angry and still so so close to punch that guy.

"Oh you don't know. Can't say I'm surprised, your mother shielded you a lot. Now I have to do all the explaining. That's why women should never be in charge.” he rolls his eyes. “Are you familiar with the Hastings family?" The man hands Steve one of the towels and casually leans against the sink. Hastings? Steve has heard that name before... Wasn't that the royal family that fell from grace three generations ago? His eyes flit to the man.

"Sounds familiar." Is all he can grid out. What is this man on about? Is he just here to gossip?

"Clever boy." The smirk on the old man's face is uncanny. As if he can read Steve all too well. "You know exactly who they are but instead of going off to gossip like all the other royals out there you keep your answer neutral. What a good king you make." Steve's confusion grows.

"What does the Hastings family have to do with us becoming one?" Steve bites out. "Ah straight to business. Just how I like it. You see the Hastings family and the Rogers family go way back. Many, many generations in fact. King Joseph Rogers the first and King George Hastings even made a little pact, that yes, still stands today." His eyes search Steve's face and his grin looks so satisfied. "That the families will unite as soon as there is a male and female heir born into the families. Now ever since then both families only bore strong sons with an occasional daughter that was out of the age range for marriage. That is until roughly 30 years ago. When you and my granddaughter were born just two years apart." Steve's brow lifts. The old man was a Hastings. Wanting to fulfill a deal that was made over a hundred years ago... Bullshit.

"Whatever deal you're referring to will not stand with today's laws. So you can stop badmouthing my mom and trying to get me to marry your desperate granddaughter now." Steve spits. The man just grins. "Oh, it will Steven. Here let your lawyers check this and then get back to me about when my granddaughter can move in with you. " He laughs and hands Steve an envelope before he walks out of the restroom and back into the gala.

Steve's eyes fall on the envelope, it's burning in his hands but he needs to get this checked. He can't marry someone because of an old deal. He can't marry someone with a grandfather daring to insult his mom that's not even been dead for a month. Steve's eyes start to burn with tears. His mom shielded him from so much while she also did her best to prepare him for this life... He wishes she was here... That he wouldn't need to mourn her so publicly while also keeping his tears in to not seem weak. He wishes he could wear the dark blue suits she got for him because according to her that's the colour he looks the most handsome in. He wishes she could brush his hair out of his face one more time. Just once more with that sweet smile that was reserved for him only.

He takes a shakey breath and swallows the lump in his throat. A brief look in the mirror, a deep breath, straightening his tie. He can't show weakness. Not here, not ever. 'Safe the tears for your bedroom, Rogers.' the voice in his head commands. He wipes away the stray tear that got caught in his lashes, pockets the envelope and with another deep breath makes his way back to his friends.

They're chatting, most likely teasing each other. As soon as Bucky sees him both heads turn to Steve with a concerned gaze swiping up and down. They seem to come to the conclusion that he's okay and relax. "We need to leave." he says as soon as he reaches them. His tone more urgent than he wanted to. "Why you got diarrhea? Took you pretty long in there... I told ya to lay it easy on the hors d'oeuvres." Bucky teases with a grin that immediately falls as soon as he sees Steves eyes. Sam can't even get his joke in before Bucky declares that they're leaving. He leads Steve to the host of the gala for a quick goodbye and then out to the car they came in.

Within 10 minutes they're on the road. For the first time with only the three of them in the car, Steve pulls up the divider for privacy. Shielded from Sam and Bucky, he allows himself to spill a few tears for his mother before he can make it to the safety of his bedroom. He knows that will be away for another few hours, especially with the envelope that's burning a hole into his pocket.

Ever since you were young your family hasn't cared much for you. The only thing that was important to them was that you did exactly what they wanted... in every aspect of your life. You got the education they wanted, you went to college for what they wanted and you hid your interests to make them like you. At the beginning of your twenties you finally broke out of that circle. You moved far away with your friend and only occasionally visited for important matters, much to their dismay. Just like you were now.

The train ride never isn't boring, even with a good book and music. The most thrilling plot or the most beautiful lyrics couldn't distract you from the stranger sitting next to you. Somehow you always had the luck of them eating something disgusting, talking loudly on the phone, constantly bumping into you or being a stranger to the concept of headphones.

Your eyes wander over to your friend and her husband for the millionth time. They were sitting together, cuddling, yet somehow each minding their own business. Her husband looking out of the window, headphones in, music on and daydreaming. Your friend reading the newest book from her favourite author. How you wish you had someone to share a seat with... to share a life with. You wouldn't have a stranger next to you. You'd have a partner. You could cuddle and mind your own business at the same time... or play a game? Would you get upset at them winning Uno? Or would you love them too much to get frustrated?

You let out a sigh. You've been single for so long... a partner was still written in the stars and wouldn't come by anytime soon. So you'd have to deal with strangers next to you on the train, the couch for yourself and your family constantly badgering you when you'd move back and find a partner. It's not like you planned being almost thirty and still single. As a child you dreamed about being married with children at this age. Maybe having a little house and a dog. You wanted to be surrounded by friends, leave your family out of it as much as you could. Just enjoy life with your partner. But here you were, still alone. Maybe wallowing in self pity at a life that could have been would be a good way to pass time till you were back at your family's place.

You pull your suitcase after you. The walk from the train station wasn't too long and you know better than to ask anyone to pick you up. You don't want to inconvenience them or owe them. Last time you asked your mother and she made you wash all the dishes from the family party by hand after you played waitress during the entirety of it. You'd rather choose walking 30 minutes to the house than do that again.

As you come closer you spot your grandpa's car in the driveway. He must be here to oversee the preparations for his birthday party tomorrow. You briefly look down at yourself, jeans and t-shirt. It looks good enough but you already know you'd be criticised left and right. Never enough for them.

With a deep breath you ring the doorbell and wait. It's not too long before the door opens to reveal your mother. She takes in your appearance and sneers before she greets you. She steps to the side to let you in. "You visit your family that you never see and you show up dressed like some slob. You could wear something nice every now and then." She grumbles before she goes to the living room to announce that you're here. Well if you knew your grandpa would be here a day early you would have tried to wear something nicer. You leave your suitcase next to the door and follow her into the living room. You greet everyone and listen to your siblings' judgments until your grandpa stops them.

"Enough. Let's not ruin this joyful day for our family." He announces before he gets up and stands next to you. Joyful day? What happened? Did he finally win the lottery? You look at him confused.

"You all need to learn to not criticise her so much anymore. After all it would be a bad image to her fiancé and the press." Everyone nods along as if what he said did make any sense. Even your father who usually only shows interest for the drink in front of him, nods along. Has he got dementia since the last time you visited? "What?" Is all you can bring out at which your mother scoffs.

"Well dear... It took you a long time to find a partner, which in hindsight I'm very grateful about. You know our family has a long history and its history and glory shall be restored soon enough.” Your grandpa declares like it's some victory. “Many hundred years ago our ancestors made a deal with the royal family of Brooken. The first heirs of opposite sex shall marry and unite our families. It just never worked out age wise until you came along. Born just two years after the now reigning King Steven Rogers." He explains and you're absolutely sure they all lost their damn minds. No royal family would make a deal with commoners, especially back then.

"Well I recently met the young man and reminded him of this deal. He's more than eager to fulfill it and marry you. He'll collect you and bring you to Brooken tomorrow." He squeezes your arm, a smile plastered on his face. You can't do anything but stare at him and then burst out in laughter. They were messing with you. Or playing along with your grandpa's dementia... But no one else was laughing. They all looked rather serious... And the house looked so clean... Was this not a joke?

"This... This has to be a joke...?" You say, looking at him with desperation. "Why would it be? You'll restore the Hasting family's glory and finally be of use to us.” your heart breaks a little more. Were you truly this worthless? Did nothing you did for them before count? You look up at them, desperate to find any sign that this wasn't true. That they were playing a prank. The stone faces of your parents and siblings look back at you. This... This wasn't a joke. They'd marry you off to some stranger. To a king? To gain what? What about your life? What about your place? Your job? You can't just leave that behind for some king who's probably a huge asshole... Your long fought for freedom taken by your family and that guy. Back under control, every move watched and criticised.

The rest of the day has been cruel. Your family was between joy at your engagement to a king and anger at you trying to refuse. In-between all the explaining, that really didn't give you any new information or any that would make sense of the situation, you texted your friend which promised to call you later.

“It's not all that bad… at least he's handsome!” Your friend tries to reason. “Plus you'd be a queen! No more shitty job that doesn't pay you enough. You'd live in a castle and wear pretty dresses.” She offers and is met with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah that's great but at what cost? My freedom. I really love my one bedroom apartment. You know why? Because it's mine. I can do what I want. And in his castle? I probably won't even be allowed to hang a picture on the wall. There'll be people watching my every move and reporting back to him. I'll be just as miserable as I used to be at my parents place.” The white of the ceiling starts to become blurry with the tears that are about to spill. “What if I can never see you again? What if he won't let me have any friends?” Your voice breaks at the thought.

“He doesn't look like he'd be such an asshole. He looks nice and the articles write nice things about him too.” She reasons. “Yeah and who has big influence on the press? Him. Of course they wouldn't write anything bad about him.” You complain. “They have written not so nice things about him. Especially with him grieving his mother…” that you do feel sorry for. They seemed to have a good relationship, losing a loving parent isn't easy. “Give him a chance. You never know maybe he's a prince charming.” Her voice sounds encouraging.

“What does a king even want with a commoner? Why would a king make a deal like that hundreds of years ago? I don't get it…” you question. “Who knows maybe your family had blackmail material on the royals.” At that you snort a bit. “Maybe… he seems eager to get married. My family is eager for this. Why am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?” Your hands pick on the scratchy blanket your mother put on the guest bed for you. “Because you're the one who loses a lot for this. Your family gains royalty… at least they'll be royal adjacent? I mean they do have the stick up their asses like royals already. And he gains a wife? Dating must be hard when you're a king.” She muses. “His last relationship was six years ago. His ex left him for another prince and got married like a year after.” You hum at the information she found. His whole life could be found on the internet which makes you wonder what he even knows about you? Your family didn't even know you so he couldn't even get something accurate from them.

“Listen, I gotta go… but give it a chance? And if he's an asshole and you need out, you text me and we'll come to break you out ok?” you sigh at your friends offer but ultimately agree. You'll try, it's not like you can leave the house and flee without your family noticing and coming for you anyways. You place your phone on the nightstand and cuddle up in bed. Your eyes fall on the monstrosity of dress your mother picked out for you. Maybe if you truly wore that pink pile of whatever the seamstress had left over, he'd run for the hills and you'd still be free.

"Sorry Steve... I can check a few more things but this is airtight... They can force you to marry that girl..." his lawyer says. Steve sighs and looks up from his desk to look at the brunette who meets him with a warm empathetic smile. Maria Hill, top of her class, badass in their softball team and brilliant lawyer. Steve recommended her to his mom when the old lawyer retired. Maria showed her wits and was hired within two hours of her interview.

"There's no way a deal from over a hundred years ago still holds up! You're telling me there was not a single occasion where this desk could have already been fulfilled? Aren't the Hastings fucking hornballs with so many family members? They're not even royal anymore! How does this hold up?" Bucky rants, clearly trying to protect his friend. Maria meets his eyes and lifts an eyebrow.

"Well if you want to go through the entire family trees and history to try and prove that be my guest. Matter of fact is that King Joseph and King George thought of everything in their agreement. Even the downfall of royalty... Or in this case the downfall of one royal family. This seems to be their way back. Making Steve marry the granddaughter so at least she is tuly royal." Maria says dryly. "I will check it over once more. I think we all should get as much rest as this night still offers but... don't get your hopes up Steve." She adds as she gets up and takes the contract that was in the envelope before. "What if we kill her. Can't marry someone that's dead" Bucky suggests and immediately gets a slap on the back of his head from Sam.

"As your lawyer I would advice against the murder of the future spouse of your best friend. You'd be one of the first suspects and I'm sorry to say this Barnes but your pokerface isn't as great as you'd like to think." Maria states before she looks at Steve. He's exhausted, his face in his hands, his hair ruffled. "Go to bed Steve." She says softly, worried about her friend.

Steve let's out a sigh and gets up. "Dismissed. Good night." Is all he can say before he drags himself out of his office and up the stairs. His mind is a flurry of thoughts that just won't shut up no matter how much he tries. He lets out a sigh as soon as he reaches the third floor. To the left is his room, to the right the room of his mother. His legs move on their own, carrying him to the portrait of her that's covered in a black veil. In the last month he often stood in front of it. He wished it good night before he'd get in bed. Just like he planned to do today.

"Night mom..." He whispers, the tears in his eyes returning once more. "This is all so hard without you… you would know what to do with this stupid deal… I wish you were here." his voice breaks at that. He gulps and tries to hold back his tears. He isn't in the safety of his own bedroom yet. But he isn't sure he's gonna make it till there. His eyes wander to his door, so far away, and back to the portrait. He gulps and moves towards her door. Her room is safe too. Even if it brings sad memories.

He softly closes the door behind him, his eyes falling onto her bed. He'd often sleep with her as a child. When he had nightmares, when he was upset about his father dying, when he was sick. Just one more time he tells himself and takes off his shoes. He can sleep in the sweatpants and shirt he put on earlier, he doesn't need a fancy pyjama set. Hesitantly he slips under the yellow covers. His nose immediately fills with her scent. Her favourite laundry detergent mixed with her perfume and he can't hold back the tears any longer. The dam breaks and he sobs into her pillow. After many minutes of crying he falls asleep enveloped by her one more time.

[kathhey]

i think about spensa and then i remember how much she has been through and then i cry

[fun-twisted-tales]

Can I just talk about how Boq “Glad he’s heartless so he’ll be heartless killing her” Woodman, when he actually sees Elphaba die, looks like this?

Because it is not talked about enough.

[the--days]

so it's like this.

you're young and you're scared and you're trapped in the feywild (happens to the best of us) with the love of your life. You're a half-elf and she's a fullblooded elf but you don't think about it very much because you're barely surviving day to day. And you get offered a deal to get yourself home again, and you take it. And the price of your freedom is that you leave her still trapped there, alone.

And then five years pass. And you age a century in that time, and you grow, and you change, and you find her again, and you're still in love, and you meet people, and you lose people, and you love them too, and you learn, and you start wanting a future again, and caring again, taking care of yourself, taking care of other people--

and after all of that, at the end of things, you find out the man responsible for all of the misery in your short, sad life has cast a spell which gives him complete control and ownership of you- mind, body, and soul (again. this happens to the best of us). And you are given the choice to stay under his thrall, and live a thousand years-- or to age and die, like humans do, and to be free of him.

And the love of your life is there, and you're married now, and she's still a full blooded elf, and you're still a half-elf, and you think about what that means a lot more than you used to.

And still, after everything you've learned-- you choose your freedom. You choose leaving her behind.

[alluraaaa]

okay here it is. under the cut because i’m shy

—

Lance finds Keith in the rec room. He marches forward purposefully and flops onto the couch, his head in Keith’s lap. “You have to kiss me.”

Keith had expertly taken the intrusion into his personal space, and only now puts down his data-pad and looks down at Lance. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lance says, “Or I’ll die.”

“You’ll die.”

“Yes.”

“And how do you know this?”

“I have a disease. It’s terminal unless you kiss me. Doctor Bestdoctor said so.”

“Pfft.” Keith threads his fingers through Lance’s hair. “So you’ll die if I don’t kiss you?”

“Yeah. Kiss me right now or kiss me goodbye,” Lance says, smirking up at his boyfriend.

Keith smiles warmly down at Lance, softly amused as he continues to pet his hair. And decidedly doesn’t kiss him.

Lance gasps dramatically, sitting up and holding a hand to his chest. “How dare you!?”

Keith rests his chin on his fist with his now unoccupied hand, elbow on the back of the couch. “You haven’t died yet. How dare you lie to me?”

“How could you prove it!?” Lance gestures wildly. “You’re gambling with my very life!!”

Keith laughs and reaches for Lance’s face. “C’mere.”

Lance huffs and lets himself be pulled into a kiss. Keith’s lips move deliciously against his and he lets the bit be melted away by the butterflies in his stomach. He cups Keith’s face in a mirror of Keith’s position and kisses back.

Kissing Keith, Lance realizes, is not unlike witnessing an aurora borealis. Breathtaking, leaves him speechless, so on and so forth. Not that he’ll ever say it out loud. Definitely not in as mushy a way as that.

But it’s nice. When they finally have to break for air Lance gulps down a breath and says as much. “You’re good at that.”

Keith chuckles. His voice is deep and husky. Lance loves it. “You too.”

Alright, enough air. Lance goes back in for another kiss, earning a happy hum against his lips. This time, Keith’s hand starts to wander. Slowly, easy to stop if Lance wanted him to. But he feels his skin lighting up wherever Keith’s hand touches. The last thing he wants is to stop.

They’re sitting next to each other on the couch, their torsos turned semi-awkwardly towards each other to kiss. Keith has one arm balancing himself between them, with the other stretched across them, his hand running up Lance’s arm to his shoulder. Then down his chest to his hip. Then before he knows it Lance is being pulled into Keith’s lap, so quickly that he breaks their kiss to let out an embarrassing noise of surprise.

Lance’s hands instinctively find purchase on Keith’s shoulders. Their mouths are still so close together. Practically speaking into his mouth, his voice low and intimate, Keith asks, “Is this okay?”

Lance swallows, feeling Keith’s breath on and in his mouth. “…Yeah,” he decides.

“You sure?” Keith now has both hands on Lance’s hips, and his thumbs rub gentle circles. Comforting.

“Yeah,” Lance says again, more sure. “I just… I’ve never done this.”

“Never… made out with someone?” Keith asks. He pulls away enough that Lance sees him look confused. Makes sense, they’ve made out before this.

“No, I’ve never…” Lance searches for the words. He can’t find them, so he leans back and gestures to their current positions. “done this.”

Keith takes his time looking up and down Lance’s body. Lance can tell it’s not just him trying to understand his meaning. It’s as flattering as it is not the point.

“I’ve never…” Lance groans, frustrated. “I’ve only ever dated girls, okay? And they wanted me to be the man. Y’know?”

Keith’s face dawns in understanding. “So… are you saying you wanna switch?”

Lance looks down, at his legs sandwiching Keith’s as he sits in his lap. He remembers his second ever girlfriend, how she sat in Lance’s lap just like this. How she giggled into their kisses and covered his face in sticky lipgloss. Lance loved having her like that, he loved being able to hold her close and… cherish her. And now here he is, on the receiving end. Is Keith feeling the same way about him now? Lance realizes he hopes so. He realizes in that moment that he really wants to be cherished. Taken care of.

“No,” he says, “I just… don’t make fun of me if I’m bad at it.” It’s a big ask, considering their whole thing is making fun of each other.

Keith reaches up to cup Lance’s cheek in his hand, and they lock eyes again. “I already said you’re a good kisser. You’re doing great.” He closes the distance to kiss Lance again, soft and chaste in comparison to what they were just doing. “Let me know if we go too fast, okay? I want you to just enjoy yourself.”

“I am,” Lance says. He really, really is.

“Me too,” Keith says.

And he’s smiling. So soft and happy. Lance kisses him again. He just has to.

It quickly grows deeper, going from quick soft kisses to Lance sighing into Keith’s mouth and pressing closer as if they could possibly get more contact. He has to break for air again but Keith continues, kissing across Lance’s jaw and down his neck. Lance makes another embarrassing noise at the feeling of his teeth grazing his throat.

“Wait,” Lance says, even though every fiber of his being wants him to keep going.

Keith stops, pulling back to look up at him with hunger in his eyes. Lance says, “Not here. I don’t want someone to walk in.”

Keith smirks. “Want me all to yourself, prettyboy?”

Lance freezes, overwhelmed at the words he said, the way he said it. He hides his face in his hands and groans. Keith just laughs, pressing a kiss to Lance’s knuckles.

And then the world tips and Lance flails to wrap his arms around Keith’s shoulders, his legs hugging Keith’s waist. Oh. Keith stood up. Keith’s carrying him.

Lance has to concentrate on not making anymore embarrassing noises as Keith carries him in the direction of their rooms. This boy is going to kill him.

and if i wrote cheesy soft klance. what then