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discordantwritings · 2 months

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Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.

Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy

No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.

Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.

But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.

Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.

When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-

You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.

“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”

It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”

“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”

“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.

“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.

“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”

As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”

Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“

He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”

There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”

That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”

It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.

“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”

You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.

You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.

It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).

Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.

“C’mon in.”

You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.

“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”

You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”

“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.

“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.

“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.

“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.

“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.

“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.

“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.

“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”

“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.

“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.

“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.

“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”

You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”

“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.

When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.

“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.

“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.

“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.

“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”

“I guess… there was this one time-“

You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.

“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.

“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”

“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”

You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.

“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.

You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.

The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.

Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.

It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.

But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.

You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.

Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.

Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.

It’s the damn nicknames.

Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.

My story weaver.

My star.

Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.

But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.

“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”

“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.

“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.

“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.

“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.

You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.

“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”

“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.

“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.

You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.

“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.

“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.

“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.

“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.

“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.

“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.

“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.

“But-“

“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.

It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.

Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.

“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.

“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.

“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.

“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.

“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.

Darling.

That was a new one.

“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.

He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.

“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.

“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.

“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.

“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.

You leave.

Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.

You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-

You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.

Until, of course, your captain finds you.

“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.

“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.

Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”

“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.

“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.

“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.

“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.

“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”

“Well-“

As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.

“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.

“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.

“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.

“Of course.” You answer automatically.

“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.

“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”

You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.

You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.

You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.

You weren’t his anymore.

Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.

It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.

Stupid how you realize these things too late.

Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.

You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.

It’ll pass.

Someday.

But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-

You sounded like a child didn’t you.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.

“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.

“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.

“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.

“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”

“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”

A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”

“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).

“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.

“Great.”

“Good.”

There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.

“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.

“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.

Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.

You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.

It didn’t work.

Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.

You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.

“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.

“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.

“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”

There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.

“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.

You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.

If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.

But you didn’t.

You know when you’re not wanted.

Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.

It’s easier that way.

A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.

You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.

You were getting better.

You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.

The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.

It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.

It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.

The sound of wood breaking.

You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.

You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.

Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.

The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.

You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.

Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.

You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.

Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.

“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.

“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.

“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.

“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”

Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you��re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.

If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.

You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.

“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.

Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.

“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.

He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.

The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”

Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”

“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.

“You-“

“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”

He gets to the door before your words stop him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.

“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.

“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.

“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.

“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”

The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”

“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”

You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.

You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.

You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.

“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”

Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.

“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.

He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”

You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.

“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.

He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.

“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.

His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.

“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”

“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”

His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”

You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“

“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.

All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.

“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.

“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.

“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.

You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.

He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.

He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.

You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.

“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.

“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.

“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.

You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.

“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”

“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.

“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“

Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.

“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.

“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.

You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.

“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”

“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.

“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader

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usereddie · 17 days

Note

Please with a cherry on top 🍒💕 tell us all about your little aus you have for bucktommy.

Especially the season 1 divergence 💛

surely i will!!!! this got very long btw so i'm putting it under a read more but the aus i mentioned in the tags of this post are

model au

college au

neighbor au

canon divergence s1 meeting

okay here you go:

model au: this is the one that sparked that entire post bc i saw those two photos and went "wait....." anyway. buck and tommy meet on a shoot and buck is immediately reduced to a giggly, blushing mess. he's new to the modelling industry but so ridiculously pretty he's already getting booked left and right. tommy's been in the game for a while, and he's so comfortable in his skin in front of the camera that it has buck watching him in awe. a bts video of a shoot they did together blows up on twitter, people talking about their chemistry, how hot they are together, and it gets people talking. buck is terribly, terribly embarrassed, worried tommy's gonna realize buck's got a huge crush on him, but then tommy doesn't mind at all, and is actually really, really on board with buck's feelings if the hickeys the makeup department have to cover the next time he's in front of a camera are anything to go by

(also, buck discovering he loves being behind the camera and getting every candid of his boyfriend possible. the professional, smoldering, glamour shots are nice, yeah, but the one of tommy smiling when he realizes buck's been taking pictures of him? those are his favorites.)

college au: listen, i know hs/college au's aren't for everyone but i love them. the frat parties, the "we kissed the day before christmas break and now i don't know how you feel because we're not talking and i can't just show up at your dorm" angst, their friends pestering them about the obvious feelings they have for each other. come on!!! buck and tommy are both freshman though tommy's a bit older because he took some time between high school and college to get a job so he could pay for his school. buck thinks tommy doesn't like him very much but tommy's kind of in love with the guy, but the way he shows his affection and his teasing attempts at flirting are clearly not getting the message across. so he kisses him in the front lawn of a frat house during a party because obviously they're in frats and buck doesn't get it, thinks tommy's doing it because he found out buck likes him and is making fun of him, and tommy doesn't even let him finish angrily confessing his feelings before he's tackling him onto the lawn and kissing him stupid.

neighbor au: they both work odd hours. tommy's still a firefighter but buck's a nurse and they've seen each other a few times on the job, enough that buck's coworkers always let him know when the hot firefighter came by, but they have no idea they're neighbors because their hours just never. line. up. until one day buck's sick to the point not even he can justify going to work and tommy's got his day off and they run into each other in the hallway of their apartment complex when buck goes out to get his door dash. he is immediately horrendously embarrassed because ohmygod the hot firefighter knows what i look like in spongebob pajama pants. tommy doesn't mind though, clearly, because a few hours later he's knocking on buck's door and handing over a tupperware of homemade cookies. tommy doesn't stick around very long because buck is clearly super tired, but when buck opens the lid there's a note with tommy's number and a 'next time we have off on the same day, you wanna grab coffee?' the smiley face is lopsided and uneven but it makes the biggest grin appear on buck's face

(also, they have dogs in the selfies i used in that post and i like to think their dogs are also dating thanks)

canon divergence: oh man i LOVE canon divergence in general, but s1 bucktommy would go so hard. like au where tommy doesn't leave the 118 so he's there for buck's probie year? incredible. tommy, for starters, wouldn't be able to stand buck 1.0 and buck, like the oblivious bisexual he is, wouldn't understand why he cares so much. slowly, buck starts trying to get his attention. talking to him, getting to know him. tommy's still in the closet and trying to keep from losing his mind because the pretty playboy who sleeps around is suddenly no longer hooking up with women in favor of trying to get to know him. tommy knows he should tell buck to stop because there's no way this won't end with his heart broken (who hasn't fallen for a straight person and cried to sad ballads about it? queer culture), but buck is actually sweet and he's not funny because his jokes are terrible but he makes him laugh and tommy's determined to introduce him to all the best, classic romcoms (the man's favorite movie is love, actually, c'mon). the more time they spend together the less buck goes out, and after a long shift, sitting on the floor of tommy's living room eating pizza, when tommy starts leaning in, buck doesn't think twice before closing the distance. tommy pulls back, asks if he's sure, if this is okay, and buck, who hasn't had sex since he realized he wanted tommy in a big, bad, really really gay way, kisses him breathless.

tommy doesn't want to pressure buck, doesn't want to move too fast because he really, really likes him. buck is annoyingly charmed by it because he's never had a meaningful relationship and as weird as it is to want that with a guy he really does want it with tommy (but he also obviously takes it as a challenge to see how far he can push his boyfriend's buttons before he bends him over the back of the couch).

okay yeah these are my bucktommy au ideas i love them very bad thanks mwah!!!

#bia gets mail #anon #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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huramuna · 4 months

Text

wine red, tears gold - chapter 6.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

previous chapter | next

a bit of a slower chapter. there should be about 2 more after this & we are at the end (':

word count: 2.7k

please follow & turn on notifs for @huramuna-fics for my fic postings

content: smut, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn, infidelity, child loss, vomiting

cloudbursting - kate bush • playdate - melanie martinez

Alicent had thought she saw the last of death for a while. She had seen her grandson killed before her very eyes, seen her daughter’s skewered body upon the ground, a grisly tale of her son skewered through his eye, her other son burnt and suffocated.

She had seen enough death for a lifetime and then some.

When she had been awoken in the wee hours of the morn, it was still dark outside. Her handmaiden roused her from sleep with a panicked plea— the queen was in her labors.

Labors? Lyanna wasn’t pregnant, was she? Surely Alicent would’ve noticed, as they spent every morning together since the girl’s arrival over half a year ago.

She slipped on a housecoat and was escorted to the maester’s offices, where the robed man swept her aside immediately.

“What is going on? Her grace cannot be pregnant, surely?” Alicent questioned, eyes narrowed. She didn’t dare look over at the pale figure in the cot, knowing it to be Lyanna. She wasn’t ready yet to see such pain once more.

“The Queen is… was… roughly five moons along,” he explained softly, “Her chamber maids found her semi-conscious in a pool of her own blood, the room a mess— she… is fighting, surely. But the babe won’t be viable.”

Alicent blinked profusely, searching the healer’s face for any sign of a farce. “You say she was pregnant?”

“A matter of speaking, your grace. She is… laboring as we speak. The babe is stuck, however— at an odd angle.”

“… what does that mean for Lyanna?” she asked, leaning forward. Alicent knew what it meant, of course— death was in the room with them, waiting.

The maester gave the queen mother a hard look and shook his head. “Keep her in your prayers. The King… should be notified.”

—

Alicent sat by Lyanna’s bed, hand in bloody hand with her. The poor girl’s beautiful face was so pale, the blue veins in her half-drawn eyelids were visible.

The labors weren’t much of a ruckus as they usually would be— Lyanna was severely numbed by milk of the poppy, and the maesters pulled out the babe. Alicent caught sight of it— its skin was gray and scaly, with a ridged tail and little budding horns, as well as a pair of perfectly miniature wings. It didn’t breathe, nor cry.

“A son, your grace,” the maester announced solemnly.

The sight made Alicent want to vomit, but she swallowed it back, focusing on Lyanna. “You did so well, my love,” she cooed, dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth, “You did so well.”

“See… may I… see the… the babe?” Lyanna asked, her voice so quiet that only Alicent could hear.

Alicent’s heart clenched, brow furrowed. “Not yet, sweetling. They’re wiping him off now. Do you have a name in mind for him?”

“Aeron,” Lyanna breathed, “For… Aemond… and Daeron…”

A tear rolled down Alicent’s face as she leaned close to Lyanna, pressing their foreheads together. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she whispered, “My sweet, sweet girl. You’re the purest of us all, my love.” she cried fully now, eyes closed. She cared so deeply for the Queen, as if she were her own, or mayhaps more, and seeing the girl in pain agonized Alicent.

Alicent Hightower wept for Lyanna, Aemond, Daeron, and Aeron.

—

Aegon did not arrive until hours later, after he’d been found. He bursted into the room like an ignited dragon. “Where’s my wife? My son?” he demanded. Otto followed behind him.

Alicent stood up, her white nightgown stained in a bit of blood. She stared at her son, eyes narrowed with a fury she hadn’t felt in so long. “Out, Aegon— she’s asleep, finally, out, out!” she hissed, turning the King around and shoving him out of the chamber, closing the door behind them.

SMACK.

Alicent laid a firm slap across Aegon’s face. “What took you so long?! Your wife was bleeding out, laboring your babe into the world much too early! And I saw the marks on her— she isn’t one of your whores, Aegon! What in the Gods’ names are you doing to her?”

Aegon’s eyes immediately watered and he was the very image of a pathetic little puppy. He sniffed. “I didn’t— ‘twas part of our game, mother, I swear!” he simpered. “I never meant it… in a bad way.”

“Your game? Your game? Marriage isn’t a game, Aegon. Sex isn’t a game. You’re the only one she’s ever laid with and that is how you treat her?” Alicent was beyond fuming, not only for her good-daughter, but something within herself that has been long locked away. “Like some toy? She doesn’t know that it’s supposed to be gentle and loving— she must think that it’s normal to be treated in such a way.”

The king shifted uneasily back and forth, looking down at his feet.

“You never learn, do you? You’re just like your father.” she finally spat, eye to eye with her son. Her brown eyes were eclipsed with rage, lip curled before she descended back into the room to sit by Lyanna once more.

Aegon didn’t follow— but he didn’t leave the Keep, either. Later that eve, the outside of his chambers was littered with discarded wine bottles, broken glass strewn about.

—

It was a week before Lyanna finally came back to herself— she was mostly coherent, eyes flitting about the room. A chair, now empty, was set next to her cot.

There was another chair on the other side of the bed, which was filled. A tiny blonde head bobbed up and down behind a book.

Jaehaera.

She was reading, outloud, from a children’s book, legs kicking softly as she read. “It’s said that beyond the wall… there are dragons made of ice. They do not breathe fire, but blow frost from their gullets. Giants with feet as large as…” she paused, squinting, “wheelhouses, are said to ride the ice dragons to battle.”

“Do you believe that, princess?” Lyanna murmured, her voice hoarse from disuse. “Ice dragons and giants?”

Jaehaera blinked, her eyes going wide as she realized that her audience was awake. She ducked behind the book, crossing and uncrossing her legs.

Lyanna hadn’t spent much time with Jaehaera, to be truthful. She didn’t wish to force herself upon the melancholic girl and wished for her to take her time to open up. The young princess had attended breakfast with Lyanna and Alicent a number of times, but usually didn’t speak, unless whispering something to Alicent.

Jaehaera peeked over the book, her violet eyes looking at Lyanna cautiously. “… yes. I believe in ice dragons. Grandmother says…” she giggled softly, pulling the book down further to reveal a small smile, “that they aren’t real n’ the book is made up. But I know the truth.”

“And what is the truth? You must tell,” Lyanna hummed, shifting herself in the cot so she was facing Jaehaera, giving the young girl her full attention. “I must know.”

“They’re real n’ just sleeping beneath the snow, and they lay their eggs in the giant wall in the North. But… they take two… hundred years to hatch!”

“Two hundred years? That’s quite a long time to wait for a baby dragon.”

“Yup. I’m patient, though. Grandmother says it's my best… quar-lity.”

“Quality, sweetling.”

“Qual-ity.” Jaehaera repeated.

Lyanna gave a reassuring smile. “You look quite deep into the book— how long have you been reading for?”

“I came with grandmother… five days ago n’ started reading this to you… four days ago. I thought it might be nice to listen, even if you were sleeping…” she nods to herself, slowly coming out of her shell. “Sometimes, when I sleep, I hear stuff around me and it enters my dreams.”

“Thank you for reading to me, sweet girl. I thought I recalled hearing about ice dragons in my dreams,” Lyanna chuckled. “Will you keep reading to me? Even if I’m not asleep?”

Jaehaera looked down at the book, swinging her legs again. Her cheeks puffed slightly and she looked a bit bashful. “Uhmmm… maybe. Did… you still want to hear it?” she peered at the queen, head tilted. “… I don’t get to do much with friends anymore… they’ve all gone. Grandmother likes my reading but… sometimes she starts crying n’ I have to stop. Father is… too busy.”

The queen felt her heart clench. Out of all of the victims of the Dance— Jaehaera, in her mind, had suffered the most. She lost nearly everyone. “Of course, I’d love to hear you read more. I’m quite interested in what else is beyond the wall, and I simply won’t believe what anyone else has to say about it, it must be you, dear princess.”

The little princess gave a little giggle before she continued to read.

—

The queen and the princess were inseparable for the next moon– as they had found some sort of comfort in one another. Lyanna would stop to Jaehaera’s chambers and escort the young girl to Alicent where all three of them broke their fast together.

It was certainly an odd feeling for Lyanna, as she never had been really good with children, so to speak. But after Aeron, she felt something was lost from within her. She only remembered glimpses of her son before they took him away. The sight of him, so tiny and riddled with golden and red scales like a little lizard, with a tail and leathery wings. The sight of him had sickened a few of the attending maids, causing them to vomit and clutch their proverbial pearls.

She thought him a beautiful little boy and wished to know if he had his father’s violet eyes, or her brown.

In her dreams, he had a curly mop of white blonde hair and brown eyes with flecks of violet, like wisteria petals upon a pond, shaded by a tree. He would speak to her in hushed tones, holding and tugging on her hand, babbling all sorts of nonsense like children do. She never saw beyond the confines of the small garden they would be in, the outskirts of her vision creeping in lilting black and hazy purple.

But, nevertheless, it was an oasis, bright and sprightly like the first warmth of spring’s sun, warming their skin as Lyanna held Aeron to her hip, peppering him with kisses and love, while they watched ducks swim around in the petal speckled water. Dipping their toes into the chilled pool, a figure would approach. Another crop of blonde hair, somehow so familiar to Lyanna. The shape and gait of the shadow would liken itself to Aegon, but Lyanna could never see his face. He was dressed in black and green, with the crown of the Conqueror upon his brow, the indent of a smile perked upon his silhouette as he sat beside them.

Aeron would be between them, speaking a language that Lyanna didn’t understand, but it sounded similar to High Valyrian. Aegon’s shadow would converse back, but his voice sounded so far away and disjointed, like a distant memory. The specter of the king would take off his crown, and hang it upon Aeron’s curled mop, flashing a toothy white smile and singing praises. A smile Lyanna longed to see.

But it wasn’t real.

None of it was.

Aeron would never grow to be that sprightly little boy, and Aegon… the version that she’d concocted in her head of him didn’t exist.

It likely never would.

These dreams, ever repeating ever since she lost Aeron, would make her wake in a cold sweat, already crying, her nightgown clinging to her like a second skin, sticky and itching. She would get up and pace, trying her best not to wake Jaehaera, who had snuck into her rooms more than once when she had a nightmare, a frequent plague for the young princess.

Some might consider Lyanna’s dreams something of joy– but they seemed like a nightmare to her, an illusion that made her feel like she was going mad. It felt so real, that when she awoke, she could feel her fingers grazing through Aeron’s curls, the soft smell of him was alive and well in her room. Until a gust of wind would dissipate it.

And she would be alone with her thoughts, her longings and her dreams once again. She would crawl back into bed and wrap her arms around Jaehaera.

One eve, late into the night, Lyanna felt the indent of weight upon her bed. She didn’t open her eyes, as she was still flitting between consciousness and sleep– but her hand wandered over, expecting to feel Jaehaera. “... bad dreams, Haera?” she mumbled, her hand searching for the little princess’ own.

“... ‘tis not Jaehaera.” a voice murmured. Aegon.

Lyanna’s eyes snapped open, turning towards her husband, whom she hadn’t spoken to or really seen since Aeron’s passing. “Aegon?”

“... yes.” he whispered. He sounded small, like his vocal chords were stuck in a shell, echoing and far-flung from his usual cocksure smugness.

“Are you… alright?” she asked then. She should be angry, she really should– but she had just had her dream again, where he had been so alive, so lovely and right that she couldn’t be mad at him in the moment. Her mind was still swimming with the illusion she’d created of him.

“No,” he breathed, shifting closer to her slightly. “Something is wrong with me.”

“Are you ill? Shall… I get up and call a maester?”

“No–” he pressed, his hand reaching out to grasp Lyanna’s wrist. It wasn’t harsh or forceful, but urgent, like a plea. “Stay. I… I need to explain myself.”

Her muscles tensed for a moment as she felt his hand upon her. It was warm and slightly calloused, but familiar nonetheless. “... okay.”

“I haven’t… picked up a bottle in near a moon, nor… touched a whore. I-I’ve been good,” Aegon whimpered. “I’m so sorry, Lyanna. For everything– Gods, I’m a fucking monster. I-I don’t know why I’ve done the things I did or said. It’s eating me from the inside like a sickness,” he took a shaky breath, sniffling all the while. He was crying. “I-I… I wanted to push you away. The moment I saw you with your… big brown eyes, so close to tears– I felt sorry for you, to be paired with me. You were good and pure and innocent– you didn’t deserve any of this– if I hadn’t been such a fucking coward, you… might still be carrying our son.”

Lyanna didn’t say anything, but her breath hitched slightly at his words. They were clear and concise– tear laden and full of sorrow but it was the most sober she’d ever seen him, the most lucid.

“I can’t feel that it's my fault. Because I was too weak to say no to them, to put my foot down and refuse. I basically killed them all,” he continued. “I’m just a Godsdamned coward and I should be put down like a dog for what I’ve done, for what I allowed to happen– my entire family save for three people who don’t see me as anything more than a disappointment are all dead, Lyanna– I could’ve… I should’ve… I should’ve kicked and fought against it, told them to fucking stick the crown where the sun doesn’t shine. What kind of brother usurps his sister’s throne? What… why did I let that happen?” his hand was shaking against her wrist now, his voice breaking into small blubbers. “I’m a fucking Kinslayer, Lyanna.”

She didn’t know what to say, truly. But the sheer ache she felt in the depth of her chest caused her to reach out her free hand and thread her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to her as he cried, his entire body violently wracked with his sorrow.

It all suddenly made sense to her– the drinking, the whoring, the violence, the barbed words. He was punishing himself, his damnation pushing away everything that may even be a little good in his life. He was sentencing himself to a life of ruination until it consumed him completely, leaving nothing left behind but a husk; all because he thought he deserved it. Because he thought he killed everyone he’d ever loved.

It made sense.

Lyanna held him close to her chest, hushing and soothing his sobs. He had let go of her wrist to wrap his arms around her in turn. “I know,” she breathed, holding him like she had wished to in her dreams, tightly as so he wouldn’t disappear. “You only tried to… please… them– didn’t you?”

He nodded slowly.

“You just wanted to be loved.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #wine red tears gold

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m-jelly · 8 months

Text

Tea for two - Chapter 9

Pairing: Post-war Levi x Fem!Reader

Tags and warnings: Canon world, post-war, injured Levi, scarred Levi, romance, falling in love, fluff, angst, emotional pain, emotional Levi, dad Levi, baby.

In this chapter: You are attacked on your way home to Levi, but Levi saves you. Levi surprises you with a gift he's made before you two enjoy a swim right as the baby decides it is time to arrive. You and Levi have a sweet moment together on your date out with the baby.

AO3 Link

The end

Levi winced a little as he limped after you. “Darling, don’t go.”

You fixed your little cape and turned to him to show off your big baby bump. “I have to get some stuff for you.”

He sighed. “I know, but…”

You cupped his face and kissed him. “Go in your wheelchair.”

Levi welled up a little. “I haven’t used that in months. I don’t want to go back.”

You wrapped your arms around Levi and hugged him tightly. “I know, but you’ve hurt your knee.”

“I pushed myself too hard when I trained with your dad.”

You led him to his chair and sat him down. “Levi, there is nothing wrong with not feeling strong sometimes. You can’t always be one hundred per cent.”

He held your hand. “I understand, but you need to rest too.”

“The baby and I will be perfectly okay.” You kissed his forehead. “I’ll go buy your meds and some nice baked goods and I’ll be right back.”

He sighed. “Okay. Kiss.”

You giggled and kissed him. “Love you.”

“Love you always, Mrs Ackerman.”

You winked at him. “That’s right.” You grabbed your shopping basket and pulled your hood up. “Love you, Levi and our baby loves you too.”

Levi blew you a kiss. “Be careful.”

You waved to him before leaving the home. The air was nice and cool, but there was a threat of rain. You were hoping that your cape would protect you. Both you and Levi were excited to have a summer baby. The names you picked were perfect for a sweet baby. You were both hoping it was a girl so you could call her Kuchel. Kuchel was a wonderful mother to Levi. She reminded him of a flower, which bloomed the strongest in summer.

You gazed up when you heard a distant rumble. Thunderstorms were nice and relaxing when you were inside your home, but not so much when you were out and about. You were hoping that you could finish shopping before the storm arrived. You picked up the pace and made it to the pharmacy. You smiled at the man behind the counter who recognised you right away.

He hurried to the collection point and grabbed Levi’s medication. “Here you are, Mrs Ackerman. I’ll also get you some stuff for you and the baby, free of charge.”

Your cheeks burned at his kindness. “Oh, thank you so much.”

“Not a problem. Least I could do for the wife of the amazing Captain.”

You placed the meds in your basket as you felt a little awkward. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

“Take care now, all right? It looks like there is a storm coming.”

You bowed your head to him. “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”

The air was still outside, which concerned you because it meant the storm was getting closer. You hurried to the bakery and picked a few nice things for Levi and you to share. The last stop was to get something for Bo because he deserved a treat. You picked a few things and became distracted by a baby shop. You slipped inside and bought an adorable blanket, along with things that had references to Daddy.

“Unbelievable.”

You turned and gazed at your ex-best friend. “Claude.”

He scrunched his nose up at you. “I cut ties with you because you got involved with that foul man. I went to your home to forgive you, but you weren’t there.” He glared at your swollen belly. “Are you fucking pregnant?”

You turned away from him and went to the till. You paid for everything as he shouted your name. You were done with this man and his insults towards your husband. You were just done and wanted to go home. Plus, your feet were killing you from carrying a baby in your belly. You tried to ignore Claude chasing after you as it started to spit.

Claude grabbed your upper arm. “Would you just talk to me!”

You yanked your arm from his grip. “I have nothing to say to you! You cut ties. You were done. Once you cut, there is no going back. Release me and leave me alone.”

“You married him. Is that his baby too?”

You placed your hand on your belly. “Yes, and this baby is ours.” You let out a long sigh. “I have to get home to my husband before the rain gets worse.”

Claude snarled as you started walking away. “Get back here! Don’t walk away from me!”

You moved a little faster. “Leave me alone! I’m done with you and you’re done with me. There is no use in chasing me down!”

Claude ran after you as he shouted your name over the pouring rain and thunder. “He will lead to your death.”

You stopped and turned in the street. “No. No, he won’t. Levi is an incredible man who I love with everything within me. You have no say in who I love. We are done as friends. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“I love you!”

You stared at Claude as he looked at you with pleading eyes. The rain was so loud and the thunder roared through the town. “You’re unbelievable. Do you think I’d fall for that? Even if that were true, do you really think I would drop everything and run into your arms? I want you out of my life.”

“I am not letting you go!”

“If you don’t let me leave, I will contact the authorities.”

Claude moved closer to you. “He’s controlling you.”

You let out a long sigh. “You are exhausting to talk to. I’m going home because I’m sure my husband is worried about me being in this storm.”

“Just listen to me.”

“Goodbye, Claude.”

Claude grabbed you by your upper arm and yanked you hard before releasing you due to the hard whiplash. He flinched when he heard a crack. Your head had hit the wall. Claude shook a little when you slumped to the floor. His heart jumped to his throat when he heard your name screamed by a familiar voice over the rain and thunder. Fear surged through him. Cautiously he turned to see Levi holding his cane with Bo at his side, both of them racing over.

Levi dropped to his knees and ignored the pain shooting through his left leg. He cradled your face and saw some blood. “Talk to me. Come on, darling.”

You opened your eyes and smiled softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t hurry home.”

“It’s okay.” He kissed your forehead. “It’s okay.”

“Claude stopped me from going home.”

Levi kissed you. “Sit there with Bo, okay?”

You hummed. “Okay.”

Levi rose to his feet and glared at Claude. He clenched his cane tightly as his rage consumed him. “What did you do?”

Claude shook in fear. Though he was taller than Levi, Levi was a very terrifying man because of how strong he was and how dedicated he was to justice and what was right. It was very clear to Claude that he was going to be beaten. The first smack hit him in the gut causing him to double over in pain. The second went up against his face sending him backwards and slamming against the floor. A strong and ball-breaking kick connected with his privates, he was sure something had ruptured.

You stumbled to your feet and whined. “Levi?”

Levi stopped his attack and turned to you. “Darling?”

You limped over to him. “Can we go home?”

He nodded and put his arm around you. “Use my cane and me.” He took your basket and held it in his other hand. “We need to get you home.”

You walked together in silence for a while as the storm grew closer. You gazed at Levi to see his stoic look, but you knew a lot was going on in his head. “Thank you for protecting me.”

“I’ll do anything for you.”

“You’re the best. I love you.”

He smiled a little. “Love you always.” He unlocked the front door and helped you inside. “Go change.”

“Yes.”

Levi put the food away and quickly took his meds. He checked your basket and felt his heart flutter at the baby things. “Tch, adorable.” He sighed and looked at Bo. “Your mum is so cute.” He gathered the baby things and the first aid, along with a drink and meds. He moved into the bedroom to see you pulling on your night dress. “Ready?”

You sat on the bed and hummed. “Yes.”

He sat next to you and began cleaning your wound. “I haven’t done this in so many years.”

“Is it bringing back scout memories?”

Levi hummed a laugh. “Yeah, good ones as well. The cadets used to push themselves or do stupid shit during training.” He inspected the cute and saw it didn’t need stitches and only a patch. “I would patch them up.” He placed a patch on your head and handed you a drink and meds. “Hange would too, but seeing as they trained under me, I thought it was best for me to do it.”

You gulped down everything and sighed. “Thanks. I bet you were a wonderful Captain.”

“Sometimes.” He picked up the baby things. “These are adorable. You got all daddy things. What about mummy things?”

“Oh, well I might get those next time.”

Levi saw you fiddling with your dress, meaning you were anxious. He placed his hand on yours. “I’ll get them. I want to buy more for you and the baby.”

You laughed. “You spoil us plenty.”

“I need to spoil you more.”

You giggled as Bo nudged his face against your baby bump, so you fussed him. “All right. I’ll allow it.”

“Thank you.” He pulled his wet clothes off and changed into his night things. “I’ll sort out the washing.”

You hummed. “But your leg.”

He cupped your face and kissed the end of your nose. “You are far more important. Now, I need you to be a good girl and stay awake for a while.”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you have a headache?”

“No.”

“Promise?”

You grinned at him. “Yep! You know why?”

He smiled. “Why?”

“Because I want you to call me a good girl.”

Levi stared at you as his heart throbbed in his chest. “Now, those are some flirting words.”

You giggled. “I’ll behave 'cause we’re both unwell.”

He pressed the end of your nose. “Just wait until we’re better.”

You gulped hard as a tingle went through your body. You looked down at Bo as he gazed at you with his tail wagging. You hummed a laugh and petted him. “Your daddy is a wild man. I love it.”

Levi was in his massive back garden full of life. He was busy making something special with his carpentry skills. Being retired from the scouts and casually running his shop meant he had a lot of time on his hands. People need hobbies to keep them busy and it is fun to make progress. So, Levi started making things out of wood and had a great skill for it.

He shifted back from what he was making and admired his work. Sweat rolled down his back as the sun beamed down on him. He grabbed his rag and wiped his sweat a little. He grabbed a bobble, pushed his hair back and proceeded to tie it back into a little top knot with a few strands loose. He gripped his shirt and tugged it off. Sweat glistened on Levi’s muscles and scars.

“Sexy.”

Levi turned and gazed at you holding a tray of drinks. “Thank you.”

You waddled over to him and placed the tray down. “I could just take a bite out of you.”

“Please do.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. “Mm, tasty husband.”

Levi squeezed your waist. “You’re the delicious one.”

“Thank you.”

He shifted his hands to cup your belly. “How are you and the baby?”

You grinned at him. “Perfectly well. I am fit to burst though.”

“The little one is overdue.”

“They are.” You sighed and rubbed your belly. “They’re not ready yet and that’s okay.”

He lowered his head. “Mm.”

You cupped Levi’s face and lifted. “I know, I know, you’re excited to meet them. You just have to wait a little longer. You can do that, right?”

Levi’s cheeks turned pink as he smiled. “Yes.”

“Good boy.” You looked around him. “What are you making?”

Levi shifted out of the way. “It’s for you. It’s a rocking chair for you to sit in with the baby. I can use it too, but I mainly made it for you for comfort.”

You welled up. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Levi.”

He held your hand and helped you sit in it. “Comfy?”

You hummed a laugh as you rocked back and forth. “This is amazing.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “You did incredible.”

He knelt between your legs. “I’m glad.”

You reached over and petted Levi’s head. “You’re better than you think you are. You have such an amazing talent.”

He rested his head on your lap. “Thank you.” He looked over at Bo staring at him. “No, Bo, this is my lap.”

You giggled at Bo sulking. “You’re both very cute and funny.”

Levi pressed his face into your thighs and lap. “Comfy.”

“I was thinking we go for a swim today. I heard it’s good for pregnant ladies because it eases the weight they carry.”

Levi clenched up a little and lifted his head. “Yes, we’ll go for a swim. Anything to help.” He jumped to his feet and pulled you up. “Do you need help changing?”

You sighed. “I do.” You smiled at the rocking chair. “We should put this in the living room. It’s perfection.” You ran your fingers over the detailed etching. “I love it so much.”

“I’m glad.”

You jumped into Levi’s arms. “My talented and cool husband.” You covered his face in kisses. “Love you.”

“I love you.” He glanced and looked at the scar on your forehead. “Let’s get you in that nice cool water.”

You squealed in delight. “Yay!”

Levi ushered you into the house. “Go change and I’ll bring your chair in.”

“I’m gonna add a nice a nice blanket and cushion to that lovely chair.”

Levi blushed at how much you adored something he made you. He lifted the chair and set it in the living room. He added a cushion and a blanket that he knew you liked. “Darling? I made your seat extra comfy.”

You walked out in your swimming things and gazed at the rocking chair. You welled up at how cute it looked. “Oh…oh…oh, I love it!” You hugged Levi tightly. “You’re the best.”

Levi held you tightly. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll make more things.”

You smiled at him. “I love the cot you made our baby.”

Levi blushed bright red. “I’ll make them a rocking horse when they’re older.”

“That’d be perfect.”

He cupped your face and kissed you. “I’ll get changed. Rest for a bit, okay?”

You shifted and plopped yourself on the rocking chair. You moved back and forth as you felt yourself relax. “I love this chair. This might be my new favourite chair.”

Levi joined you and heard what you said. “You like it that much?”

“I do.”

“Mm…” He blushed a little. “I can’t get over this. Sorry, I keep asking if you like it, but I just need reassurance.”

You got out of the chair. “No need to say sorry. I’m the same with food I cook and bake.”

“I love all your baking and cooking.”

You giggled. “Thank you. Shall we take some food and drink?”

“I’ll pack, you rest.”

You huffed a little. “I want to do a few things.”

Levi chuckled as he started to get food and drink to put in a bag. “Well, you need to rest.”

You ran up behind him and grabbed his pecs. “Mean.”

He smiled when you bit his shoulder. “You’re adorable.”

“I love you.”

Levi turned in your arms and smiled at you. “I love you.”

You leaned closer and captured his lips in a sweet and loving kiss. “My Levi.”

He released a happy sigh. “Yours. Now, be a good girl and wait by the front door for me.”

Your cheeks burned at his words. “Yes, Levi.”

He packed the bag and made sure he had things for Bo. He pulled the bag on his back and walked over to you. “Ready?”

You grabbed his hand. “Yes.”

Levi led you through the front garden, across the road and down the beach path to the private spot he owned. He set up the seats always there and made sure yours was extra comfy. “Okay, it’s all ready.”

You pulled your beach dress off and kicked your shoes off. “I’m going for a swim!”

Levi huffed when he watched you hurriedly waddle to the water. “Be careful!” He yanked his shirt off and ran after you. “Troublesome brat.”

You giggled and flopped into the water causing Levi to be splashed. “Got ya!”

Levi dove under the water and swam up to you. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. The weight of the baby has been eased.”

He moved closer to you. “You’re so amazing. You carry and grow our sweet baby. They must be so heavy.”

You nodded. “Mm, that’s right.”

Levi moved behind you, linked his fingers together and raised your belly. “Oh wow, this is heavy. Our baby is a big one.”

You moaned in delight and leaned against Levi. “That’s incredible.”

Levi smiled and held your tummy. “I’ll do this for as long as you need.”

You closed your eyes and relaxed against him. “Thank you.” You frowned a little when you heard quiet splashing. You opened your eyes to see Bo paddling past. “He really loves the water.”

Levi chuckled. “It’s hard to keep him out.” He sighed. “Little bugger.”

You laughed. “He’s a happy boy. He’ll be a wonderful big brother.”

“I think so too.” Levi lowered your belly carefully, wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “This is the life. I never thought years ago this would happen to me. I thought I had lost everything, but you entered my life and brought light and life into it. You are truly my everything.”

You reached up and squeezed his upper arm. “I can tell you’re worried about something.”

“I am. I’m nothing without you and I know childbirth is a scary thing. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t. I’m strong, Levi.” You turned in his arms and faced him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here with you, always.”

He lowered his head a little. “I so desperately want to be a father with you as the mother. However, there are fears and worries.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I understand. I’ll live and we’ll raise our baby together.”

“I just…I don’t want a repeat of my mother…”

You hugged Levi tightly. “I’ll stay with you until we’re very old with lots of grandbabies and great-grandbabies.”

Levi closed his eyes as he imagined it all. He smiled at the wonderful thought. “I can see it now. It’s just perfect.”

“I know you’ve been through a lot and me saying it’ll be all right won’t fix a thing.” You sighed. “But it really will be all right.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You hissed a little in pain. “Baby is having a little party.”

Levi placed his hands on your bump. “Relax, sweet little baby. Relax for momma.”

You winced again. “I don’t think it’s them causing this.”

Levi went white. “Are you?”

You groaned. “I don’t know, maybe?”

Levi scooped you up like a bride and ran with you to the shore. “We need to get to the hospital right away.”

“Levi, you don’t need to run with me. I can walk.”

“I know, but let me do this.” He gazed at you with pleading eyes. “Please.”

You smiled softly at Levi. “Of course, my grumpy. I’m all yours.”

The birth of your daughter Kuchel went smoothly, but Levi was a wreck. When he saw the blood and the mess that came from giving birth, his PTSD was triggered a little. You felt awful that your husband was in pain emotionally. Levi stayed strong though. He held your hand and breathed with you. He held his little girl in his arms and was speechless. Kuchel was perfect and healthy.

You took everything in your stride. Levi was in awe of you. He truly had a strong and brave wife. Though you went through a lot of pain, Levi was with you every step of the way. He helped you through your breathing and he was there to help you go to the toilet in the days after giving birth when everything ached.

Levi went into full caregiver mode. He made you rest as often as possible. He changed Kuchel, cleaned the house and did the cooking as you got all the rest possible to heal up. Your home was filled with laughter, love and sweet coos of a baby. You fell in love with Levi in a whole different way. There was just something about your husband holding his daughter and singing to her. He often rendered you speechless with how impressive he was at taking care of the baby. Levi Ackerman was a sexy dad.

Levi was deeply and completely enamoured by you. He too had fallen in love with you in a whole new way. The fact that you made a sweet baby, brought her into this world and was now caring for her was beyond incredible to him. You were this sexy goddess in his eyes that could create life. He was madly, deeply and hopelessly in love with you.

You rocked in your chair with Kuchel in your arms as she fed from you. Your hand lightly patted her as she happily fed with eyes closed. You felt the loving gaze of your husband upon you. You glanced up to see him staring at you from the sofa. You could have sworn Levi had hearts in his eyes.

You smiled at your husband. “Something on your mind?”

“You.”

You hummed a laugh. “I’m always on your mind.”

“Yes.”

You pulled Kuchel from you and helped her burp. “You’re a man of few words today.”

He moved over to you and took Kuchel so you could fix your dress. “I’m just…you render me speechless a lot.”

“You’re adorable.”

“I love you.”

You blushed a little. “I love you too.”

He gently rocked Kuchel in his arms. “Our daughter is so beautiful.”

You hummed a laugh. “She is. Do you want to go for a walk with her? It’s a nice day and I know Bo has been itching to get out.”

Levi nodded. “I’d like that.”

You got out of your seat and moved around the kitchen to get snacks for a little picnic. You glanced over at Levi as he walked over to the pram with his daughter. You smiled as Bo followed Levi. Ever since Kuchel was born, Bo had been at her side always. Bo used to sleep in your room, but now he slept with Kuchel and protected her. He was the best big brother to her.

You picked up the basket of food and walked over to your husband. “She ready?”

Levi smiled with pride as his little girl in her pram. “She’s all snug.”

You reached down and tickled her cheek. “Precious baby.”

“She’s so cute.”

You placed the basket in the bottom slot. “She’s adorable. All packed.”

Levi pushed the pram out of the home and smiled down at Kuchel as she looked around her in pure awe. He turned to you and pouted when you didn’t walk next to him. He blushed when you giggled and hurried right over to him. You shifted over and hugged his arm as you walked. Bo walked ahead and led the walk into the town. All attention was on the two of you. Most people couldn’t believe the famed Captain was now a father.

You gasped when you looked ahead at the park and saw the cadets having a little break. “Look, Levi. It’s the cadets you trained.”

Levi groaned. “I’m glad to see them, but I was hoping this would be a nice picnic as a family.”

You kissed Levi’s cheek. “We’ll say hello for a bit and then have our little family gathering.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “Yes. Besides, I’m sure they’d love to see the baby.”

Levi blushed hard as he gazed at his little girl. “She is so beautiful. I do like showing her to people.” He smiled. “We made a wonderful baby.” Levi gazed at you. “You’re so incredible.”

You hugged Levi’s arm. “So are you.”

Levi pushed the pram over to the gang. “Morning all, I have someone for you to meet. Tch, try not to crowd her.”

Mikasa looked down at your baby and gasped in delight as a cute blush spread on her cheeks. “Baby.”

Connie shot to his feet. “Baby!? Captain had a baby!?”

Jean frowned. “How did you not know he was going to have one? I told you at their wedding.”

“Ooooooh, yeah I forgot.”

Armin smiled at your baby. “Beautiful.”

You scooped her up into your arms and showed her off. “This is Kuchel.”

Annie walked over and looked down at your baby from behind Armin. “Cute.”

Levi pulled you back and away from Annie, it was understandable that he still had issues with her. “How has everything been for you lot?”

Armin smiled. “Well. It has been hard work, but we’re getting there.”

You moved over to Jean. “I know you love babies.”

Jean blushed as he looked down at Kuchel. “So pretty.” He offered his finger to her and blushed harder when she held onto him. “This is amazing.”

You hummed a laugh. “She likes you. I bet you’d be a great uncle to her.”

“I will!”

Mikasa shifted over and lightly poked Kuchel’s cheek. “She’s so soft.”

You hummed a laugh. “She’s family to you, right? You’re a distant cousin to Levi.”

Mikasa nodded. “Yeah.” She welled up a little. “Family.”

“I’m sure you’ll care for her too, right?”

“Promise.”

Levi placed his hand on your back. “Darling?”

You smiled a little. “We have a little family date. So, we should arrange a time and date for us all to meet again. I think a nice little party should be good.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

You placed Kuchel back in the pram. “I’ll see you all soon. Let’s go, Levi.” You frowned as Bo was rolling on the grass with everyone fussing him. “Bo? Come on!”

Levi whistled causing Bo to run right over. “Good boy.”

You waved to the group and walked with Levi across the park to a nice shaded spot under a tree. Levi set the blanket up and the nice cosy spot as you gathered Kuchel in your arms. You sat down and lay her on a little bed Levi made her. You snuggled up to your husband once he joined you and relaxed together.

Levi pulled a face. “Do you think I did a bad thing back there? You know, running from them?”

“I think there is nothing wrong with it, grumpy. It’s okay.” You kissed his cheek. “Sometimes you need the company of those you hold dear and love.”

“Thank you for reassuring me.” He looked over at Kuchel giggling at Bo sniffing her. “Do you think Kuchel loves me?”

You gasped. “Of course! She adores you! As soon as she sees you she is so happy! I’ll prove it.” You picked up Kucel and angled her so she could see Levi. Kuchel smiled brightly and reached for Levi. “See? Now, I’ll cover her eyes.”

Levi moved closer. “Yeah?”

You hummed a laugh “She’s calm now, but then…” You lifted your hand. “Daddy!”

Kuchel blinked a few times before squealing and reaching for Levi. “Aboo!”

Levi chuckled. “She really loves me, huh?”

You handed Kuchel over. “She loves you more than anything.”

Levi cuddled his baby. “Oh, well I think she loves you more. I talk to her about you.”

You giggled. “I know, I’ve heard you.” You reached over as Kuchel lit up in delight and flopped her hand at you. “I’m right here, my little flower.”

Levi smiled as tears filled his eyes. “I’m happy, really happy. I am at a loss for words to explain how happy I am.”

You leaned closer and kissed Levi. “I feel the same. We have a long road ahead of us. Just wait for when she can run.” You laughed. “She’ll be running circles around you.”

“That’s a bit exciting. I can’t wait and for more kids, maybe?”

You nodded. “Yes. I would love more.”

#levi ackerman #levi #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x you #fanfic #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #dad!levi #levi x reader fluff #levi x yn #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #jelly fanfics

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dem-obscure-imagines · 3 months

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You're So Timeless | Vol. 1

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve Rogers was visited by his soulmate. He fell hard. Problem is, she was from the future and didn’t stick around for long. Now, in the twenty-first century, he finally found her again, except this version of her hasn’t met him yet and won’t know he’s her soulmate for another year.

Note: So this is a combination of my other two Steve Rogers soulmate AU fics, but lengthened and fleshed out into a full fic. I was literally possessed to write this. I have no other explanation. I really like how it came out. I gave this one chapter headings (I am also going to post it to Ao3) and yes some are Taylor Swift titles. Sorry about that. It takes place roughly around the time Civil War would, but we have managed to avoid the war this time around. I also moved some other characters up the timeline because I think they’re neat and I said so. Without further ado, please enjoy my new Magnum Opus.

Also Tumblr made me split it into two parts. Part 2 linked HERE and also at the end of the post.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/injuries, soulmate au, tons of mutual pining, kind of a slowburn but in reverse. Light angst, but a happy ending.

Word Count: 38.7k total (I am not sorry)

Reader Is: Enhanced (forcefields), 24 years old, female

The End

Time.

It was a fickle thing. In the blink of an eye, a year had passed. A mere twelve months earlier, you had been living a different life. The only life you had been responsible for was your own. And your plants, but…they never seemed to last that long under your care. Now, everything was different.

It was the day before your birthday. Your twenty-fifth birthday, which, in the world you lived in, meant that tomorrow, a name would appear on your wrist, the name of your soulmate. It had been stressing you out all day, the weight of tomorrow and everything it meant.

It was late, and you were exhausted from a day of overthinking. The longer you stayed up, the longer you delayed the inevitable reveal, and thinking about it too much made you nervous, so you just decided to get to sleep sooner than later.

It was once you were just about to climb into bed that there was a knock at your door.

“It’s open!” You called. The door opened slowly, revealing Steve, who was leaning in your doorway, arms crossed, that pensive look in his blue eyes. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi.” He chuckled. He seemed nervous, although you weren’t sure why.

“Everything alright, Steve?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I actually came in here to check on you. Wanda said you were…quiet.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You hugged your arms around your frame and bit your lip, looking up at the super soldier standing in front of you. “Just…I don’t know. I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow for my entire life, but…now that it’s here, I’m so scared.”

“Hey, come here.” He said, pulling you to him, strong arms wrapped around you, as if he could protect you from the future itself.

“I don’t know what to do…”

“(Y/N), whoever they are, they are incredibly, incredibly lucky. You don’t need to worry about anything. It’ll all work out. It always does.” He said it like he was certain. Like somehow he knew what would happen in the morning when suddenly your life was turned on its head and you had to venture out to find your other half.

Since you’d met him, Steve wore a leather band around his wrist, covering his soulmate’s name. You’d figured he must have met them in the forties and…maybe they hadn’t made it long enough to see him come out of the ice. But you didn’t ask about it. You never dared to put that question into words. He’d been through enough heartbreak already.

“What if they don’t like me…?”

He scoffed, holding you tighter. “That’s impossible. They’re going to love you. So much. I promise.”

“And…and we’ll still be f-friends?”

Steve pulled away, looking down at you, a hand very carefully touching your cheek. “Of course we will still be friends. Nothing is ever going to change that. I promise.”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Good. Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

He gently wiped the tear away, the pad of his thumb warm. Once he was sure you were okay, he let go, looking at you with that knowing sparkle in his eye once more. He took a little extra time to look at the shirt you were wearing, the Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You agreed.

“And happy birthday, (Y/N).”

We’ll Meet Again

“Ma’am? Are you alright? Ma’am?” The voice sounded far away. You were pretty sure you were still dreaming. You opened your eyes slowly and immediately became aware of the pounding pain in your head.

“Ow, oh my God.” You reached up and felt there, but it didn’t feel like you were bleeding or anything.

“Ma’am?”

You froze for a second, slowly looking up at the figure standing above you, confusion written all over his familiar features. It took you a long moment to put the pieces together. You were on a porch somewhere in what appeared to be New York, but it was…different. A lot different than the parts of the city you knew. Alright, it had to be a dream.

You looked up at the man standing above you and did a double-take. But no, it was him. It was a tiny, frail version of Steve. Your eyebrows furrowed and you sat up slowly, staring at him for a long moment before whispering, “Steve?”

His mouth opened and then shut again and he made a face of confusion, like he was trying to place where he knew you from, but he didn’t know you yet, and wouldn’t know you for several more years, to say the least. “Do I know you?”

“It’s complicated.” You exhaled. “Can we go inside? You’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dumbfounded, Steve nodded and you stood up from the porch, only to find that he was at your eye level when you did. Weird. He led you into the small apartment and you looked around. It was quaint. There was an easel in the corner of the room and…Bucky Barnes sitting on the couch? You stared at him for a good, long moment, a shiver running down your spine.

“Who’s the dame?” He read your shirt. “What is Star…Wars…?”

“About to find that out myself.” He chuckled, leading you into the living room. “Buck, could you give us a minute?”

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” Bucky got up and walked to the other half of their tiny two-bedroom.

You sat down on the couch and so did he. The silence was thick. You thought for several moments. You weren’t quite sure how you had ended up in the 1940s. You looked down at your hands and it was then that your gaze finally landed on the writing on your wrist. And then everything made sense.

“What’s the date today?”

“It’s July 4th, why?”

“July 4th…” You whispered. “What, 1943?”

You could see the wheels turning behind his eyes before he replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“Well, happy birthday, first of all. And second of all…” You held up your wrist so he could read it. Steve’s eyes went wide and he stared at the three words written neatly on your skin in his own handwriting.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“You’re my…” He looked at you for a long time, his eyes wide. He hastily undid the cuff around his wrist and held it out to you, your own name written there. He ran a finger across the letters, as if to prove they were really there.

“I’m your soulmate.” You said certainly.

It hit you like a truck, then. The weird look on your Steve’s face, the way he was so certain that everything would work out. It was because he had already lived through this. And that meant that in all the time he’d known you, he’d been hiding his mark not because his soulmate had died, but instead because you were his soulmate and you didn’t know it yet.

Your entire year of friendship, of memories, of roadtrips and missions and movie marathons…he had known the whole time. And that look in his eyes wasn’t just his protective side coming out. It was love. It had been love the whole time.

Oh.

Steve exhaled a long, shaking breath, really taking you in. Once again, he had a million stars in his eyes. He let out a whispered, “Wow,” as tears began to form.

You came back down to earth. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, sniffling as a tear ran down his cheek. “I’ve just, I’ve got a lot of…health problems, so I wasn’t sure if I’d ever…meet you. And you’re here and you’re great and I just…I’m sorry.”

That brought tears to your eyes. “Oh, Steve…” You pulled him into your arms and he didn’t hesitate to surrender to your embrace, his arms wrapping tight around you and holding you close, head nestled into the crook of your neck. “Just breathe. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Always.

He took your advice, doing his best to avoid an asthma attack on what was shaping up to be the best day of his life. Once he finally caught his breath, he pulled away to look at your face again. “I have to ask…How did you know?”

“I don’t know if you can tell from these clothes,” you motioned down to the t-shirt and sweatpants you were wearing, “but I’m not from around here, exactly.”

“I kind of thought so, but I didn’t want to be rude.” He smiled softly. “Um, where are you from, then?”

“I’m from the future. Like…a while from now. It’s hard to explain why or how, and I’m not really sure how I got here, to be honest, but I’m glad I am.” You sighed, thumb grazing his cheek, wiping away his tears. He crooned at your touch. “I don’t know how long we have before I have to go back.”

“Am I there? Where you’re from?”

“You are. It’s complicated. We’re really good friends and…when I get back, I’m sure we’ll probably be even more than that.” You smiled, shaking your head. “I can’t believe I didn’t put the pieces together sooner.”

“(Y/N)?” Steve asked, trying out your name for the first time.

“Yeah?”

“Let me take you out today, show you a good time here before you have to go back.” He took your hand and carefully laced his fingers through your own, testing the weight of it, the feel of it.

You smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Not to eavesdrop, lovebirds — congratulations, by the way — but if you’re going to take her out, we’re going to need to find her some clothes that aren’t so…‘not from around here.’” Bucky leaned in the doorway.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call one of my girls and we’ll get her squared away. Sit tight.”

“Thanks, Bucky.” You said, chuckling when his eyes widened after you addressed him by name. “I know you, too. From the, uh, future.”

“Weird…” Bucky decided.

“Long story?” Steve asked, studying the look on your face.

“Very.” You agreed. After staring at him for another long moment, you pulled him back into your arms again, exhaling a long breath before whispering, “Steve, I’m so glad it’s you…”

***

“Wow.” You stared at yourself in the mirror, studying the way Bucky’s, ahem, lady friend, had curled your hair, done your makeup. You did a little twirl and relished in the way the skirt of your dress twirled. It was navy blue, short ruffled sleeves with a flared skirt and buttons down the front. “I think it suits me.”

“I agree. Blue is a good color on you.” Steve was sitting in a chair at the edge of the room, absolutely enamored as he watched you. “Although, I’m sure they’re all good colors on you, doll.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.” He stood up and walked to you, slipping one of his hands into each of yours and staring into your eyes, looking at the way you looked standing next to him in his reflection. His soulmate. The kind of girl people write poems about. “You look great.”

“I don’t look out of place?”

“No one is gonna think you’re a time traveler. Well, unless you tell them.” Bucky said. “Maybe don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it.” You chuckled and gave Steve’s hands a squeeze. “Where to first, soulmate?”

His cheeks reddened as soon as you said the word. “Well, I was thinking we could go to my favorite little diner down the street to grab something for lunch, and then maybe we could take a walk through the park, catch a movie, and then go out for drinks tonight?”

“What, you aren’t gonna take her dancing?” Bucky teased, ruffling Steve’s hair under a large hand. “Show the girl a good time?”

“I would if I didn’t have two left feet.” Steve chuckled, a sheepish smile on his face. He looked at you, waiting for some kind of response. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a great time, Steve.”

He smiled. “Good.”

The two of you left the apartment not long after that, and walked side by side towards the diner. Your hands were swinging in the space between you and your hand brushed Steve’s once, twice, a third time, and then you slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers.

You caught him smile out of the corner of your eye. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.” He grinned and chuckled to himself. “You can hold my hand as much as you want, doll.”

When the two of you finally got to the diner, a little bell rang over your heads and you got seated at a booth by the window. The two of you ordered drinks and you skimmed the menu while you waited.

“So, tell me about yourself.” You said, resting your chin against your fist and looking over at Steve. You studied the way his blue, blue eyes flicked up to your own and the blush that covered his cheeks shortly thereafter.

“You probably know a lot of it already.” He chuckled. “Unless we don’t talk a lot?”

“We talk quite a bit, but I still want to know about this you. Here and now.”

“I like art. Drawing and painting and stuff.” He said. “I haven’t had time to do much lately, but I’d like to get back into it.”

“See, that I didn’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you were into art.”

“I could, uh, show you sometime.” He offered.

“I’d like that.” You smiled. “What else?”

“I like to read. I like going to Dodgers games with Bucky. One time he took me to Coney Island. I don’t like rollercoasters, but I liked playing the games. He wasted three whole dollars trying to win a teddy bear for a redhead named Dot.”

“Three whole dollars…” You chuckled. “Well you don’t have to worry about the rollercoasters too much, I can’t go upside down without throwing up.”

“That makes two of us. Enough about me, tell me about you.” Steve nudged, his hand slowly moving towards yours. “How do we know each other? When did we meet?”

“We’re…coworkers, I guess you could say. We met about a year back and now we live in the same building? I’m sorry for being so vague, I just—”

“Don’t want to give it away, yeah, I get it.” He nodded, understandingly.

“You took me under your wing as soon as I moved in and really made me feel welcome. You’re the one that brought me onto the team, actually.” You took a sip of your drink. “We’ve been through a lot together already, and I’m sure it’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Mmm…” Steve nodded. “I know I just met you, but I’m really glad you and I are close. Well, will be close.” He paused before chuckling and shaking his head. “There’s still some little voice in the back of my head telling me all of this is just some amazing dream.”

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” You chuckled, tucking a piece of curled hair back behind your ear. “I’ve…I’ve had a crush on you forever, Steve. I can’t believe this is happening.”

He stared at you, almost dumbfounded. “O-on me?”

“Yeah.” You agreed. You’d forgotten, you supposed, that Steve had had this phase, the self-depreciation, the insecurity. Your Steve, when complimented, was shy, sure, but you knew he understood what people were talking about. This Steve didn’t see it that way. Not yet. But it would be your job to use your one day with him to change that, to make your soulmate see that he was worthy of love, even self-love. “Yeah, of course on you, Steve. I can’t believe I get to have you.”

His cheeks reddened and he finally took the leap, taking your hand across the table, thumb grazing your knuckles with care. His blue eyes sparkled. “Funny. I was gonna say the same thing about you.”

***

Once the two of you were finished up at the diner, you took a walk through the park. It was gorgeous out, a bright, sunny, warm summer afternoon. Several couples were strolling down the paths, hand in hand, and you were one of them, your hand held tight in Steve’s, his thumb gently stroking the back of yours.

You went to the theater and caught a movie together. Luckily enough, they were showing the Wizard of Oz. Your current situation had you feeling like Dorothy in more ways than one. The movie had only come out four years earlier, which was definitely strange. Not to mention the fact that the tickets were only twenty-five cents, the popcorn a mere ten cents.

And then, once the movie was over and the sun was setting, you went to a bar, where Steve ordered each of you a drink. You took a sip of yours, something sweet, and smiled at him across the table.

“So, how’s your day been, birthday boy?” You asked coyly.

“The best I’ve had so far,” he replied, his eyes sparkling. The sparkle faded, however, when his expression grew somber. He hesitated, but then asked, “Okay, I have to know…How long do I have to wait to see you again?”

You exhaled a long sigh, biting your lip. If you told him the truth, he might ask questions you couldn’t tell him the answers to. And besides, the real answer would require some math. You didn’t know the specifics.

“I’ll be honest, Steve, it’s…it’s a pretty long time.” You thought for a long moment before continuing, “I…I can’t really tell you why. It’s all really complicated, and if I tell you too much, it might not happen the way it’s supposed to.”

“Oh…” Steve nodded and took a sip of his drink. Once he set down the glass, he reached across the table and took your hand. “Well, however long it is,” he looked straight into your eyes and a chill ran down your spine, “It’ll be worth it. Every second. I promise.”

You could have cried. “I hope so.”

“There you two are! I was wondering which bar you’d wandered into!” Bucky was, apparently, already slightly intoxicated as he approached you and Steve with a date of his own. “How was your day on the town, lovebirds?”

“Spectacular.” You replied. “I wish there was more time to soak it in.”

“New York sure is something, huh?” Bucky’s date asked, giggling innocently. If only she knew the half of it.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You laughed and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You guys wanna sit with us?” Steve asked.

“If you don’t mind too much, punk.” Bucky grinned.

Steve got up and switched sides of the booth so he was sitting next to you instead of across from you. You slid your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He smiled, chuckling softly to himself as he gave your hand a squeeze.

“Did you give the lady her dance, Rogers?” Bucky asked, smirking.

“Not yet.” Steve chuckled. “We’ll see. The asthma makes it a bit difficult sometimes.”

“Never seems to stop you from getting into fights.” Bucky muttered, causing Steve’s cheeks to flush.

“Just wait until the band plays something slow,” Bucky’s date pointed out.

“There you go!” Bucky raised his glass to his lips. “Great idea, Maggie.”

“Glad to be of service.”

And so, the four of you chatted until the band started to play something sweet and slow. Steve looked at you for approval and you nodded. He led you out onto the floor with the other couples.

Steve blushed, flustered, and he looked at you before saying, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“It’s easy.” You promised, guiding one of his hands to your waist and holding the other. “That’s it. And then we just move to the music. You can twirl me around if you feel so inclined.”

“Alright.” He chuckled, swaying in time with you. “Hey, uh, (Y/N), I need you to know…I had a really, really great time today. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a soulmate and I’m so excited to spend the rest of my life with you someday, however far away that someday is.”

“I’m glad I met your expectations.” You smiled, tugging him a bit closer.

“No, you exceeded them. You’re better than anything I could have imagined. I’m so lucky.” He paused, and his expression fell a little. “I know I’m a lot. I have a lot of problems and they might complicate things sometimes, but…”

“Steve, you’re perfect.” You shook your head and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “The universe gave you to me for a reason and I’m so, so glad it did. You’re amazing. I can’t think of anyone better to spend the rest of my life with.”

He was quiet for a moment before whispering, “Can I please kiss you, doll?”

You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, the music swelling around you as you guided his hands to your waist, cupping his cheeks to hold him close to you. When the moment had passed, you rested your nose against his, meeting his eyes and inhaling his scent, committing this version of him to memory before he was reduced to just that, a memory.

“Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.”

You spent the rest of the night together. Twirling across the dancefloor, talking, soaking each other in. But when you reached the front porch of the townhouse, Steve looked back down the steps to find you’d disappeared, leaving him with nothing but the memory of your lips, your laugh, your smile.

“You gonna be alright?” Bucky asked, a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know.” He replied, words swallowed up by the sounds of the night. “Just give me a minute, pal.”

Bucky nodded, solemn. “Take all the time you need.”

The Beginning

Steve remembered the day you’d met—for the second time, though he didn’t realize it right away—like it was tattooed on his brain. It was a few years after he’d come out of the ice and he had taken Tony’s advice to get out more, which had led him to the local mall.

It had been an uneventful day. He strolled around the perimeter, taking in the storefronts, studying the fashion, browsing the menu of a pretzel place, reading the posters on the exterior of the movie theater, the things that were coming out in the coming months. Nothing interested him in particular. He didn’t really care for war movies.

After a few quiet hours, his peaceful walk was interrupted by screams, people running away at top speed, which, of course, caused him to spring into action, assessing the situation. He ran towards the source of the chaos, scanning, scanning, until his eyes landed on the attacker, a guy with a flamethrower, aimed at a teenage theater employee. Steve hurdled over a trash can, moving people out of the way, directing them to safety and trying to put himself between himself and the mallgoers, but before he could, you did, hands out in front of you and what seemed to be an invisible shield poised there, redirecting the flames and protecting the movie theater employee that had nearly been caught in the crossfire.

A quick flick of your wrist knocked the attacker’s gun out of his hands and it slid across the floor to Steve’s feet. He chucked it into the fountain without a second thought, where it fizzled pathetically. The guy lunged at you with heavy metal gauntlets, and you dodged the first swing but caught the second in the face, falling backwards. When you landed, however ungracefully, you sent a blast of energy at the guy, knocking him over a plant and sprawling onto the tile floor.

While the guy was on the ground, Steve tackled him, wrenching the gauntlets off of his hands and chucking them away, too. Soon, the police arrived, apprehending the guy while mall security comforted the distressed mall patrons, ushering them to safety and medical attention.

You sat on a bench after, breathing heavy, a cut on your forehead. Steve walked over, interested in this superpowered rescuer, someone who wasn’t yet on the Avengers’ radar, but would most definitely be on the news the next day if the sheer amount of phone footage recorded was any indication.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad everyone is okay.” You told him, meeting his eyes.

He finally got a good look at you and froze, looking bewildered. A deer in headlights. “You’re…”

There you are, doll. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

It was you. Of course it was you. Since the moment he’d been unfrozen, he’d been looking for you. His soulmate. The girl from the future that popped in on his twenty-fifth birthday, turned his whole life on its head, and then left without warning, hours after their first kiss. Back when he was five-foot-nothing with asthma and more medical conditions than he could even remember.

Back before he was anything.

And you’d loved him anyway. You’d given him the day of a lifetime and hope for not only a future, but for love. That someone could love him for him despite it all.

“I know.” You knew? “I…I don’t know what it is or…why I can do it. I’ve been like this since college.”

Your powers, you meant. You thought he was talking about your powers and not your name, which was burning a hole into his wrist beneath the thick leather band keeping it hidden.

“Right. Well, it’s…” He sighed, gathering his words, hiding the elation and pain behind a warm smile. “It’s a good thing you were here. I don’t have my shield on me.”

“Mine is built in.” You chuckled.

“You, uh…have a cut. On your forehead.”

“Oh, do I?” You reached up and found it with your fingers and they came away a bit bloody. “Shit.”

“Come on.” He offered you his hand and you took it, letting him lead you over to the counter of the theater. “Hi, do you have a first aid kit we could borrow?”

“Yeah, of course.” The girl at the counter said, rushing to grab it.

Steve patched you up with gentle hands, off in a corner on your own, in the room the theater used for birthday parties. Staring up at him, you finally realized the obvious. This was Captain America. And he was using a careful finger to spread a triple antibiotic ointment on your cut.

Play it cool, (Y/N).

“Do you do this often? The hero thing?” Steve asked, trying to sound somewhat indifferent. He couldn’t be, though. Not entirely. Not when it came to you.

“No.” You shrugged. “Haven’t had much opportunity, thankfully. I mean…I’d like to, I just didn’t know how to…get into it, I guess. Any email I sent to Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever would end up on a slush pile.”

“Well, I’ve got some connections. If you’re seriously considering it. I can’t say I recommend it, but…Obviously you’ve got that protective instinct and you seem to work well under pressure.”

“I don’t know about that. My heart is about to leap out of my chest.” You admitted, laughing as he carefully laid a Bandaid over the cut, closing the kit.

“That makes two of us.”

“Well, if you think I’m really cut out for it…I’d love to help.”

***

It was three days later that Nick Fury got in touch with you. You thought it was a scam call at first, but no one else would possibly have the info about you that he did. That was S.H.I.E.L.D. for you, you supposed.

You packed up your apartment, your boxes of books, your old journals, your clothes and makeup, your life, and hopped in the jet that was waiting for you at the meeting place. Inside was a pilot with flaming red hair, Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. It was hard not to get a little starstruck.

She helped you load your things into the jet, let you settle into the copilot seat, and then you took off, soaring away from your old life and towards your new one, the mysterious, magnificent facility tucked into upstate New York, that iconic A emblazoned on the front of the building.

“Steve said you’re telekinetic. That’s cool.” She complimented with a smirk.

“Yeah, I’ve got force-field stuff. I don’t know what else, exactly.”

“Oh, we’ll figure all that out. Banner already has a list of tests he wants to run. Nothing too intense. I made him promise not to give you the lab rat treatment too soon.”

“Reassuring.” You chuckled.

“Wanda’s been decorating your room all day. It’s not often we get new blood.”

“I appreciate it. I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

“They can’t wait to meet you.”

The jet landed a little under an hour later and Natasha helped you haul boxes towards the front door, where Steve was waiting. It was like time slowed, that look in his eyes, glistening little stars.

“Come on, Rogers, these boxes aren’t going to move themselves.” Nat waved him over, snapping both of you out of your trance.

“Right, right.” He jogged over. “Is there anything heavy?”

“That one.” You pointed. “It’s got my candles in it.”

“On it.”

You grabbed a few tote bags, slinging your computer bag over your shoulder. A few others came out to help, Clint and Wanda namely, the latter of whom used her shimmering red powers to speed the process along. Were you any more confident in your own powers, you would do the same, but you hadn’t had much opportunity to use them yet, and you didn’t want to drop anything fragile on your first day.

You started unpacking the essentials, your smart speaker, your laptop, some books and your favorite candle. You put some clothes in the dresser, hung some up in the large sliding closet in the wall. Upon further examination, you had your own bathroom, too, which was nice. There was a wall tapestry with sunflowers on it, and several little knickknacks. Wanda’s loving touch.

Someone cleared their throat and you turned to find Steve there, arms crossed, leaning in the doorway.

“Hi there, um, just checking in. Figured you might want a tour when you got settled in. No rush, of course.”

“I would love a tour. I can already tell I’m gonna get lost in this place.”

He grinned. “Not on my watch. Come on. I’ll show you around.”

Steve walked with you through the office spaces, the computer labs, Bruce’s lab, Tony’s. Tony was in the city, but Bruce was home and introduced himself with a dad joke about the Hulk and a warm handshake. You saw the training facility, a giant room with floor to ceiling windows, a wall of mirrors, practice dummies, landing mats, and plenty of sparring weapons. There was, separately, a fully furnished gym, and then the basics, a large, modern kitchen, living areas and lounges, study spaces, a library, a party room with a bar, and a very fancy coffee machine.

You could see yourself making a home here.

Steve walked you back to the hallway where all the bedrooms were. “If you need anything or have any questions, my room is just down the hall on the left. Wanda is next door. Dinner is at six.”

“Six o’clock it is. Thank you, Cap.”

“You can call me Steve.”

“Steve.” You nodded, slowly accepting the fact that you were now on a first name basis with Captain America. “And you can call me (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” He said, some twinge of nostalgia at the end of his words. You turned back into your room to get some more unpacking done and Steve walked back down the hall, taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling, doing his best to hold in his tears.

…Ready For It?

You spent the first few days in your room for the most part, unpacking but also hiding, if you were honest. You met Vision. He seemed nice. He also had the ability to phase through walls, apparently. Still no sign of Thor, but you weren’t holding your breath. You were sure he was a busy guy.

Sam Wilson introduced himself with the same offer everyone else had so far, to let them know if you needed anything. You appreciated it.

And then, finally, there was Tony, whose dry humor came across immediately. He sized you up, drilling questions about where you went to college, what you majored in, what your top three movies from the 1980s were. You were pretty sure he liked you, but you didn’t think he trusted you. And that was okay. You knew that was something you’d have to earn around there.

“No soulmark yet, kid?” He asked, eyeing up your bare wrist.

“Not yet.” You confirmed.

“That makes you what, twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Twenty-four. As of last month, actually.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Well that’s exciting. I’m sure you’re counting down the days.”

“More or less.” You chuckled, catching Steve watching you out of the corner of your eye. He did that a lot, you noticed.

Before Tony could come up with some witty comeback, the lights flashed red, accompanied by a loud siren.

“Vis? What’s going on?” Tony asked as Vision walked into the room, his sophisticated sweater melting into the uniform you’d seen on the news, red and green with a golden cape.

“There seems to be a stir at the local fairgrounds. Tremors and gunshots. Hostages.”

“Alright, let’s go pay them a visit then.” Tony pressed a button on his watch and transformed into Iron Man in front of your very eyes. “You can stay here or come with us. Up to you. But suit up fast. We’re out in five.”

You stood there for a moment, waiting for the shock to wear off, but the sirens definitely weren’t helping.

“Stick with me.” Steve instructed, voice calm, confident.

“Okay.” You nodded, following after him, towards the hangar where they kept the jets.

Natasha was standing at a locker, pulling her catsuit on with impressive speed, Clint beside her, loading a quiver with arrows, checking his bow.

“Nat, can you get her ready?”

“Baby’s first mission?” She asked, impressed.

You nodded, waiting for orders.

“Well, it should be an easy one, from the sound of it. Here, put this on. We’ll get you your own gear in the next few weeks.”

She chucked you an extra suit and you did your best to shimmy into it. Surprisingly, you could actually move in it. There were holsters, but you weren’t gun trained, so you figured it was best to leave that to the professionals. Instead, you followed the others onto the jet, hoping your forcefields and blossoming battle instincts would be enough to protect you out there.

***

The fair had devolved quickly into madness. There was fire, screaming, running, and gunshots. You flinched at the onslaught of it, but followed the others out anyway, listening to the voice in your earpiece, Steve’s voice, as he issued orders. You were put on civilian evacuation with Sam while the others engaged with the attackers. Six of them.

You did your job diligently, ushering people to a safe distance while law enforcement arrived. Until one of the attackers engaged with you, however, mistaking you for a civilian. Something snapped. In an instant your flight instinct vanished, replaced with the need to fight. He punched at you and you countered, sweeping a leg under him and then using a forcefield to knock him into the cornfield.

One of them launched a bazooka at Tony while he wasn’t looking, and without a thought, you trapped the explosive in a bubble, forcing it into the air where it exploded harmlessly, away from everyone.

And when the dust settled, the rest of the team turned to look at you, sharing looks with each other.

“Thanks for the save, kid. I owe you one.” Tony complimented, clapping you on the back on his way into the jet. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Your heart raced with the adrenaline of battle, the feeling of a job well done. Steve gave you a thumbs-up, a proud grin. His risk had paid off. You weren’t a total failure.

“You doin’ okay?” He asked, slinging his shield onto his back.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You replied, letting the energy fizzle back into your palms.

He watched with interest at the faint crackles of blue that made up your powers. “You did good out there.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “Thanks, I—"

“Alright new girl, were are we stopping for food?” Natasha asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“I get to pick?” You asked with a laugh.

“And don’t be afraid to pick something fancy. It’s Tony’s treat.” Clint added, walking with the rest of you onto the jet. You strapped in while the others tried their darndest to influence your pick, bickering like siblings. Like your family.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

Waypoint

Your training started shortly after that first mission. Bruce took all your vitals, measured them before, during, and after use of your powers. He recorded said powers with every device known to man until he had your ability down to a science. He had a hunch they were of cosmic origin, but you had no idea when you could have possible come in contact with something like that.

Next came a uniform. At the moment, it was a dark indigo color, something similar to navy blue, but leaning a bit more purple. The chest area was left blank, Tony claiming he’d add a symbol once his graphic design team came up with something. He did add some accents up the arms and down the legs, thin, light blue lines that matched the color of your powers.

Natasha and Clint gave you a few crash courses on weapons and your aim left a bit to be desired, but your hand-eye coordination wasn’t bad. Sam put you on a modified military workout regimen to get in shape, get your stamina up with the rest of the team.

You practiced making forcefields, seeing how big you could make them, how small, how much force they could endure before they broke. Natasha shot some bullets at them, and your fields caught them, allowing you to kill their momentum and drop them harmlessly to the ground. They could withstand some electricity, but not Wanda’s powers. And they held against Steve’s superstrength, but not for long. Still, a few hits from a supersoldier was more than most could endure, so it would buy you some time in the field.

Eventually, you moved on from just forcefields and started learning to move objects. It turned out, you were not limited to bubbles. You could create platforms underneath things. This evolved into creating platforms underneath people, that they could jump on, or ride on top of while you moved them.

You practiced using them for transport too, but it was harder standing on them while controlling them, especially if you tried to jump from platform to platform. It was a bit like patting your head and rubbing your tummy, and it would take a lot of practice.

There weren’t many missions, and the ones that popped up, you didn’t get sent on. They were high level things, and while your powers were improving, and very quickly, Bruce was always quick to reassure you, you weren’t ready for covert ops yet, especially ones that had been months in the making.

Every time Steve got sent off, he left with that sad little half-smile of his, the one where he pressed his lips together, eyes glittering like a lake under moonlight. He’d give you some words of comfort, usually dealing with how short the mission was supposed to be. It didn’t often make you feel better.

Bruce stayed behind with you, most times. More like all of the times. Code Greens, as they were called, were seldom necessary, and besides, as they had learned with Wanda back during the Ultron days, Bruce could be a liability if someone else got in his head. But it was nice not being completely alone in the big empty facility.

“He always looks so sad when he leaves.” You noted, sipping from a mug of warm tea. Steve had left only moments before, the last member of the team that was shipping out.

Bruce thought about it for a moment. “Does he?”

“Oh. I don’t know. Maybe I don’t know him that well.” You shrugged, the sounds of Animal Crossing resonating from the TV.

“You know, he has, lately. He didn’t used to.” Bruce noted.

“Weird.”

“Uh-huh.” He replied absentmindedly. “So explain to me this game?”

“Okay, so you move to this island and have to spend all your money paying off debt to this raccoon…”

It was in another training session that there was a malfunction. A shock grenade went off dangerously close to Sam. Before you could even process what you were doing, your hand shot out, a bright, pulsating star crackling in front of him, another, second star on the other side of the room. Steve assessed the situation and used the shield to knock Sam into the star, neutralizing the grenade right after. There was a bright flash and Sam appeared on the other side of the room, tumbling out of the second star.

You froze, curling your fingers and closing both of them. There was a slight pinch in your shoulder, near the base of your neck. The others all stared.

“Wait, what was that?” Bruce asked over the intercom.

“You did that?” Steve asked, motioning to Sam as he walked over.

“I think so.”

“What was that?”

Natasha asked, looking you up and down. Sam stared at you like you’d sprouted a third eye.

“I don’t know.”

“Do it again.” Bruce insisted. “Hang on, I’m coming in there.”

The door from the observation room opened and Bruce joined the rest of you in the circle that was steadily forming, all of them watching you, waiting.

“I don’t know, it was just like…” You focused on that feeling again, the desperation to get Sam the hell away from that grenade, and as though you were punching a hole through reality, it opened in the center of the circle, an eight-pointed star, bobbing and ebbing and flowing, made of the light blue energy you were so familiar with.

Carefully, you opened another one, ten feet in the air above the first. Clint shrugged and chucked a tennis ball into it. Sure enough, it popped up to the second one, before falling down through the first one again. This continued until eventually you closed the bottom one, letting the tennis ball bounce harmlessly across the floor.

“Well shit.”

“Waypoints.” Bruce said, deep in thought. “Teleportation. This…this opens up a lot of doors.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve murmured.

“Hey, that’s kind of cool. Waypoint.” Clint said, drawing attention to it. “What do you think?”

“What, like as a codename?” You asked, weighing it as an option.

“I like it.” Sam grinned. “Waypoint.”

“Waypoint.” You repeated, trying it out. Hi, I’m Waypoint. I’m an Avenger.

It sounded silly, but it was getting more official by the day. There was, of course, only one way to make it official official, and that was with one of Tony Stark’s famed parties…

Wonderstruck

You let out a sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It was the night of the big party. Your first, as an Avenger, and the official induction of what Tony was deeming the second class of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, Sam: the Falcon, Wanda: the Scarlet Witch, Vision, and You: Waypoint.

He’d gotten you a dress to wear, one that matched your uniform. It was long, sleek, that navy blue/indigo color. It glittered like stars and moved like a dream. And in the middle of it, poised at the base of the sweetheart neckline, was the eight-pointed star that Tony had turned into your symbol.

Your hair and makeup were done, and all that was left was the zipper.

Someone knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” You called, expecting Natasha or Wanda. Instead, it was Steve, who, when he saw you were unzipped, pulled the door almost all the way closed and shielded his eyes with his hand.

“Sorry! I’ll leave—”

“Wait, actually, could you help me zip this up? I can’t reach.”

Steve nodded, slowly lowering his hand and entering the room. He closed the door behind him to give you some privacy. He was dressed in a sharp black suit with a blue tie. His lapel pin looked like a tiny version of his shield.

“Wow…” He murmured, taking you in. “You look great, (Y/N).”

“You think so? I’m not sure blue is really my color…”

He scoffed. “It most certainly is.” He swept the hair off of your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the reflection in the mirror as he gently pulled the zipper higher until it was secure in place. “In more ways than one.”

“Yeah, guess so.” You agreed, nervous energy crackling around your fingers, blue as ever. You dispelled it, snapping out of it.

Steve looked at the two of you in the mirror for a long time before turning towards the door again. Halfway there, though, he turned back around, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a flat velvet box. “This is, um…for you.”

“Oh! Thank you.” You reached for it, heart racing. Inside was a necklace, its pendant a silver star with eight points. In the center, an aquamarine gem. You gasped, looking at it. It was beautiful, delicate. “Steve, this is beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I could do.” He said, offering his hand. “May I?”

“Please.” You said, handing him the necklace and moving your hair out of the way. He did the clasp behind your neck. It settled between your collarbones.

“There. Now it’s official.” He whispered.

“Almost.”

“Almost.” Steve agreed, offering you his elbow. “Right this way.”

You looped your arm through his, letting him lead you out into the initial murmurs of the party. What Natasha dubbed the “extended family” had shown up. Rhodey, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts, and, of course, Thor.

He was a sight, that was for sure. He towered over everyone else at 6’5”, arms the size of tree trunks. It was a bit intimidating to say the very least.

“Rogers!” Thor bellowed.

“Thor! I didn’t think you were coming.”

He grinned. “I never miss a feast.” His eyes fell on you. “And you must be this new team member Banner spoke of.”

“I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“The honor is mine.”

“Here.” Natasha handed you a champagne flute. She eyed up your necklace. “That’s cute.”

“Steve gave it to me.”

She quirked an eyebrow and looked up at the supersoldier, who still had your arm. “Steve has good taste.”

“Steve had help.” He admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“I’d get you one too, Rogers, but Thor has the strong stuff.” Natasha said, patting his other arm while you took a sip of the champagne. It was sweet, tangy. “God’s favorite boy scout has trouble getting drunk.”

“My tolerance is too good.”

“I think we just need to get you a Four Loko. Or two.”

“A what?” Steve asked.

“It’s like four drinks in one can. They’re insane. I tried in college, but tapped out halfway through.”

He considered it for a moment, letting out a laugh. “See, that just might work.”

Tony wandered around the lounge, greeting everyone. He looked you up and down. “You look beautiful, Portal Girl.”

You internally chuckled. The others had advised you not to feed his ego when he used his nicknames. “Thank you, Tony.”

“And you’re also here, Rogers.”

“Tony.” Steve nodded.

“You her date tonight?” He asked, motioning to your joint arms.

“Oh. Yeah, I suppose I am.” Steve agreed, not budging. Neither were you.

“Well, I hope you’ve taken some dance lessons since last time, Rogers. I’m sure (Y/N) wouldn’t want to have her feet walked all over.”

Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes as Tony moved onto his next targets. Sam emerged, looking very sharp in a red suit. Even Vision had dressed up for the occasion, Wanda beside him wearing an elegant red dress. The two of them talked and laughed on the other side of the room and you smiled. You could tell when you moved in that he cared about her.

You wondered if robots could have soulmates, too. If any android had a soul, surely it was Vision. Maybe you’d ask him about it sometime.

Once all of the expected guests were accounted for, Tony did the briefest ceremony in the history of ceremonies, introducing you all to the few members of the press he had allowed to come. You spent the beginning of the evening shaking hands, networking, and then once the strangers left, the real party started.

Nat switched you to something a lot stronger to champagne, and she was running the bar, so it was easy to get refills. Clint and Thor were arm wrestling on one of the tables which was…hilarious, admittedly.

Steve found you after a few hours apart. “Hey, will you be my partner?”

“Sure, for what?”

He laughed, loosening up quite a bit with Thor’s Asgardian mead in his system. “Sam and Bruce are trying to teach me how to play Beer Ball or something.”

“Beer Pong?”

“That one, yeah.” He nodded. “Winners play Clint and Nat.”

“That checks out.” You chuckled. “Yeah, I’m game. I haven’t played since college, though.”

“I haven’t played ever so I’m sure you’re a step ahead of me anyway.”

“We’ll see about that. Your physics skills are pretty good, what with the shield and all.” You complimented, earning that charming smile of his. “We might just give them a run for their money.”

“Enough flirting, kids, get over here.” Bruce grinned as he finished lining up the cups.

“You know how to play Beer Pong?” You asked, plucking a ping pong ball off of the table and fiddling with it.

“Kid, I have seven PhDs. I have played my share of Beer Pong.” Bruce admitted.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. It was nice to see the Avengers loosen up like this, have a good time together, really truly bond.

You gave Steve the basic rundown of the rules: no elbows past the edge of the table, balls back, stoplight, island, and that if you let Sam and Bruce get too many cups, you and Steve would get “schwaisted” as the kids said, or, at the very least, you would. Steve would probably be fine.

“Ladies first.” Sam said, giving you the second ping pong ball, one of which, you handed to Steve.

“You’re gonna regret that.” You said, rubbing the ball between your hands before perfectly bouncing it into the cup at the front of the pyramid. “Your turn, Steve.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He said, sinking the ball into the same cup. “I believe that’s three cups, gentlemen.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. He shared a look with Bruce. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“You’re telling me.” Bruce chuckled, retrieving the ping pong ball and rolling it back. He started drinking the contents of the first cup, leaving the other two to Sam. “Alright, do your worst.”

Needless to say, you wiped the floor with the other two. Barely even gave them a chance. Which is why it was only fair that Clint and Natasha kicked the absolute shit out of the two of you.

You struggled to down your third cup, which is why when you reached for the fourth, Steve shook his head and took it from you, only offering a wink when you opened your mouth to protest.

“Hey! Steve, it’s supposed to be five each.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, she already finished hers.” Steve shrugged, chugging another like it was water. “Right, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah absolutely. What he said.” You shrugged.

You helped clean up the mess a bit after the game was over, rounding up empty cups, wiping down the table, and then washing your hands as Tony switched the music to something upbeat, dancing music.

“Come on, let’s dance.” Steve urged, clearly toeing the line between tipsy and drunk. He reached out for your hand and you couldn’t resist. You didn’t even try.

You let him lead you out to the middle of the room, where Wanda and Vision were already dancing together and looking adorable doing it.

“I thought you couldn’t dance.” You laughed as he spun you around to the music.

“I’m a quick learner.” He whispered, mouth against your ear.

You swore your entire body flushed red, but you let your feet lead you through the dance. Steve took both of your hands, swinging you out and then back in, spinning you around. You blamed the alcohol on what happened next. Your heel caught on the fabric of your dress and you fell over the back of one of the couches, tugging Steve down with you.

He laughed, using an arm to push himself off of you, hovering, eyes soft. “Sorry.”

“It’s my fault. You’ve got me falling for you, Rogers.” You murmured, gazing up at him through your eyelashes.

You said it as a joke, a quip, but there was some truth in it. More than some. It had been a magical, magical night. And if it weren’t for the leather cuff on his wrist, you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him.

Steve closed his eyes, smiling and sitting up, helping you upright again. “I’ll go get us some water.”

You sighed and sat back against the couch, heart hammering in your chest.

Natasha perched on the armrest, looking down at you. “What was that?”

“Not sure. I think I fumbled the bag. If…if there even was a bag I guess.” You chuckled, shrugging.

“No, there is something there. I can see it.” Natasha said, thinking as she nursed a glass of wine. “Hmmm…”

Steve stood in the kitchen, getting two glasses of filtered water from the fridge. He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning against it. He replayed the moment in his head over and over. The look in your eyes, the way your necklace glimmered in the light, the sound of your voice, the flush of your cheeks. You were catching feelings for him, that much was clear. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.

Maybe it was a good thing, he reasoned, thinking back on his first night with you all those years ago. But you still couldn’t know why. Not yet.

It was going to kill him to keep it a secret for ten more months.

Timeless

Sherbert rays of the sunrise lit the training room, filling it with a warm orange glow. You were sitting on the floor, stretching your legs while you listened to music. That was another thing on the growing list of skills that had improved during your stint as an Avenger: your flexibility.

Suddenly, Steve was standing over you, saying something you couldn’t hear due to the noise cancelling headphones over your ears.

You slid one off, looking up at him. “Good morning.”

“Morning. You’re here early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged, reaching for your other leg.

“Sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I think I drank too much caffeine before bed last night. Learned my lesson. No caffeine after six.”

“That’s a good rule. Mind if I stretch with you?” He asked.

“I don’t mind.” You tossed your headphones onto your workout bag and connected your phone to the Bluetooth speakers, putting on some music you could both listen to.

“I recognize her. This girl’s voice.”

“Taylor Swift.”

“Ah. Yes, her. I keep hearing about her.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” You laughed. “Have you liked any of her songs so far?”

“I don’t know if I could name one for you, to be honest.” He listened to the song that was playing. “This one’s not bad, though.”

“I’ll send you some recommendations. There are some I think you’d really vibe with.”

He smiled. “I’d really like that.”

The others came in not long after, did their warm-ups, and then Steve briefed everyone on the plan for their training session, one in which everyone would swap weapons, practice using each other’s things in case they ever had to in battle if one of their teammates got disarmed.

You started with Clint. He showed you the absolute basics of archery, how to pull back the bow, how to notch an arrow, how to aim, taking into account distance. You fired a few arrows into a target and did okay, you supposed, but you would need some practice if you wanted to actually get good at it. Years of it, realistically.

Natasha showed you how to use her electric batons, which were fun, but did intimidate you a little. You definitely did not want to end up on the wrong end of those things.

And then, inevitably, you were standing in front of Steve. He offered you his shield, which on its own seemed daunting. You held it for a second, assessing the weight of it. It was noticeably lighter than you thought it would be.

“Woah.”

“Yeah. People always expect it to be heavier.” He said, a hand resting on his hip as he watched you hold it. It looked so right in your hands, he decided. “It’s good for a lot of things, but first…” Carefully, he helped you put your arm through the straps on the back of it, holding it in front of your body in its primary and most famous purpose.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “This is so crazy.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, you have no idea.” You chuckled, waving it around a bit.

“You keep looking at it like it’s Thor’s hammer or something.” He teased.

“Feels like it.”

“Well the good news is, this thing is not password protected by some Asgardian magic words. The bad news is, that means the bad guys can pick it up, too.” Steve said, gently positioning your body in an offensive stance, nudging a foot with his own, switching your arms around. “You can use it to bash somebody head on, or you can angle it a bit to get a more direct blow. It will take the force of most things. I…I actually kind of don’t know the limits. Hasn’t failed me yet. The paint does come off from time to time, though, so don’t worry about that.”

“Okay, wow.” You nodded. “Good to know.”

“I trust you with it.” He said, eyes meeting yours.

You smiled, heart racing. “I’m honored.”

He showed you a few other tricks, and then training wrapped up for the day, everyone grabbing some water, taking a shower, or making plans for lunch. Once you walked off with Wanda, Nat cornered Steve.

“What was that?” She asked, that catlike grin on her face.

“What was what?”

“I saw it, you know, the way you looked at her. I think you’ve got a soft spot.”

“Yeah, well, I did rope her into all this. Can’t say I don’t feel responsible for her.” He dodged expertly, weaving through Natasha’s mental gymnastics with skill and precision, or so he thought.

“Uh-huh sure. Well, she, Wanda, and I are going antiquing this afternoon. You should come. After all, you know quite a bit about vintage valuables.”

He laughed. “Hey!”

She walked off, smiling to herself. Steve thought about it for all of four seconds before he decided he would tag along. He hadn’t been to an antique shop in this century, so he couldn’t imagine the kinds of things they had there now. He might even learn a thing or two.

***

After a quick lunch, Steve did decide to tag along. It wound up being him, Vision, and the girls, which he certainly didn’t mind.

You and Wanda were buzzing with excitement, Natasha looking on and following behind with Steve. Vision lingered, studying everything, picking things up to get a closer look. He had projected a human disguise over himself, something Steve didn’t know he could even do, but it seemed to work. No one had batted an eye at him since they stepped foot in the shop.

“This place is…huge.” Steve said, glancing down the hall of the seemingly endless store.

“Biggest one in the state.” You chimed. “It’s the whole city block.”

“There’s a basement, too. And a second floor.” Natasha informed him, patting his arm. “This is gonna be an all day kinda thing.”

“Oh undoubtedly.” He said, setting down the teacup in his hands, a petite, floral thing.

You sifted through a box of records, picking up the soundtrack of the Muppets Movie.

“Is that a frog?”

“This is Kermit thee Frog, show some respect.” You laughed, putting the record in your basket.

“Kermit?” Steve asked again, seeming genuine.

“Oh I forgot you missed the Muppets, oh my god.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

“We need to fix that as soon as possible.” You told him. “Can’t have you missing out on cultural icons like Gonzo and Miss Piggy.”

“Okay now you’re making things up.” He chuckled, shuffling through the records as well. You showed him a few good ones and he added them to his basket, saying something about how he’s been meaning to use his new record player.

Wanda browsed some vintage rings, picking out a few, and Natasha rifled through a rack of vintage dresses, most of them from the forties and fifties from the look of it. Nat held up a navy blue one, silky, with short ruffled sleeves and buttons down the front. Steve froze, looking at it. For a moment, it looked just a little too familiar. Like the dress you had worn that night.

Eventually Nat put the dress back. You hadn’t seen it. You were distracted by a shelf of VHS tapes, looking for the old Barbie movies, whatever those were. Wanda was with you, on the next shelf over, calling out movie names when she found something cool.

Steve wandered off on his own, looking around at the different trinkets and toys, old letterman jackets and jewelry, dishes that may or may not contain lead. Finally, he came upon a little room full of art, paintings and photographs, handmade pottery.

Time stood still.

He stared at the large painting on the wall, oil on canvas. Two star-crossed lovers dancing in a bar in Brooklyn, a little guy with a dream, dancing with the most beautiful girl in the world, twirling in her dark blue dress. His heart raced. He never thought he’d see this painting again.

It had been his last painting before leaving for Camp Lehigh, the last painting he did before his life and body changed forever. He’d used the last of his paints to make it, every color mixed with care to get the exact color of your hair, your eyes, your lips, all from memory.

And it was here in front of him. When he had been presumed dead, it must have been sold off. He didn’t really have anyone left it could go to.

In that moment, he wasn’t Captain America. Standing in his shoes was that little guy from Brooklyn.

“Woah.” You murmured, suddenly right next to him. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it…it is.” He agreed, looking away from it. He didn’t want you to get too close of a look at it. However, that didn’t stop you from walking forward to inspect it closer.

“‘Soulmates.’ Artist unknown.” You read from the plaque. “Oh, it’s from the 40s. 1943. Does it look familiar?”

“Yeah, actually. Bucky liked that bar.” Steve said, pointing to the details of the interior. “It’s a little place in Brooklyn, called Val’s. Well, it was I guess. I don’t know if it’s still open anymore.”

Your eyes lingered on the woman’s face, on the man’s. You didn’t say anything about how they looked, about the uncanny resemblance to yourself and Steve. Instead, you sighed. “Someday, I want to be that in love with someone.”

He just about cried. But instead, he gathered his words, put a hand on your shoulder, and told you with confidence, “You will be.”

***

Hours later, when you were all shopped out and you’d checked out with your things, Steve stayed at the counter while the rest of you went to the car.

“Hey, um, that painting in the art room. The soulmates in the bar. I’m interested in buying it. Would it be possible to have it held here for a while, though?”

“Oh I’m sure we could arrange something,” said the old man at the counter with a smile and a nod. He started writing out the purchase form.

Steve glanced back towards where it was, that fragment of his soul he didn’t think he’d ever see again. He knew the fact that he’d stumbled upon it was nothing short of fate.

Wildest Dreams

It had been Tony’s idea. Of course it had. It always was, wasn’t it? He’d insisted that all the members of the team who hadn’t yet been exposed to Wanda’s mind manipulation should be, just in case there was a misfire during combat and one of you got caught in the crossfire. It would be important to see how each of you reacted, the kinds of things you saw so you’d be able to snap out of it.

Theoretically, of course.

This left Natasha, Steve, Thor, Bruce, and Tony out, as they’d already had their fun with Wanda’s magic. The rest of you, however, were waiting for your turn.

Wanda felt conflicted about it. She didn’t want to hurt her friends on accident, let alone on purpose, but Tony was insistent, and he had some of the others on his side. Namely, Rhodey, who had been hanging out more and more, and Clint, who’d had his experience with a different kind of mind control shortly before the Battle of New York.

It was part of why he’d volunteered to go first. Once he came to, he gave you a thumbs-up, shaking it off and walking over to Natasha.

“You sure you’re good?” She checked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal. Who’s next?”

Sam looked at you and the despondent look on your face before volunteering himself to go next. Rhodey went in solidarity, despite being too busy with his government responsibilities to be a full-time member of the team. And then it was your turn. You stood next to Wanda. She offered an apologetic smile before red crackled around her fingertips and it hit you.

For the first few seconds, you were fine. You felt tingly. You blinked a few times and your eyes felt weird. No doubt, your eyes were red, like the others’ turned when they were under the influence of Wanda’s powers.

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, voice urgent.

“Think so.” You replied, mouth full of cotton. It felt like that time in college someone had given you an edible that was too strong. The first and last time you’d ever gotten high. Like you were sinking and melting. Your legs buckled and Steve surged forward, catching you before you hit the floor, gently lowering you into a comfortable position. “Hey, you’re pretty strong…” You murmured, head lolling onto his shoulder.

The others all looked at each other. Clint dragged over a bean bag and Steve gently lowered you onto it, adjusting it so you’d be comfortable.

“She’ll be okay, Steve.” Natasha reassured him, the guilt in his eyes palpable, yet still not explained. Not entirely. She had a sneaking suspicion whatever it was had something to do with the name written on his wrist, the name he wouldn’t show anyone. Not her, not Nick Fury, not even Sam.

“Yeah, I know.” He nodded, slowly taking a step back. His eyes didn’t leave you. He had to force himself to look away. “I, um…I have to go…There’s a…” Steve motioned towards the door before leaving the room, while you sat there, catatonic, off in your own little world.

***

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, his voice close. “That was a long nap. Forget to set your alarm?”

You opened your eyes and you were laying down on the couch. Steve was standing at the island in the kitchen, cooking something. It smelled good. Really good. He was wearing a button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, still wearing his slacks from work. He had music playing from the record player, your vast collection of hits from decades of music, and he was still hooked on 40s jazz. You supposed you couldn’t blame him.

“You cooking?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded. “Come over here and get a taste.”

You followed, out to the kitchen. He set down his wooden spoon and swiftly intercepted you, pulling you up onto the countertop, kissing you deeply, a hand running through your hair. Your hand came up to frame his cheek. He was growing a bit of a beard these days. You liked it, thought it suited him.

You sighed against his lips and then pulled away to look at him. He grabbed your wrist, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. Three simple words. Steven Grant Rogers.

“I love you, doll.” His words cut through you, eyes tender and sincere. “Always have.”

But this wasn’t your Steve. And it wasn’t your reality, given away by the slightest tinge of red in his irises.

It wasn’t real. And neither was the glimmering wedding ring around your finger.

***

You blinked awake, the power dispersing from your head, leaving you shockingly sober. And hungry. That familiar sting was back, right between your neck and shoulder. You wondered how long it’d been.

Clint was in the room with you. So was Sam. Natasha was gone. Wanda too, surprisingly. As was Steve.

You got chills even thinking about him, the phantom of the wedding ring still clinging to your finger.

“You alright?” Sam asked, making eye contact with you first.

“Yeah, I’m good. How long…?”

“Three minutes. New record.” Clint said with a grin.

“Oh.” No wonder it had felt so short. Part of you wanted it to last longer.

“We’re sending Rhodey to get some food, if you’re hungry.” Sam said.

“Where from?”

“The golden arches.”

“I could go for some nuggies.” You admitted. “A McFlurry, perchance.”

Clint laughed. “How did I know you would say that?”

In the kitchen, Steve stood, hands on the counter, mug of coffee steaming in front of him, untouched. He stared at the cupboard door.

“That must be one interesting cupboard. You’ve been standing there for like five whole minutes.”

“It’s only been three.” Steve said, glancing at the clock.

“And the fact that you know down to the exact minute is why I’m so intrigued.” Natasha chimed, tilting her head. “What is going on with her? I have never seen you look at anyone like that in the entire time I’ve known you. Is she…what, the kid of an old friend? Grandkid?”

“It’s nothing, Natasha. She’s the newest member of the team, I’m just worried—”

“Steve.” She said, cutting him off, that look in her eye. “If you want to get all defensive about it, fine. Keep your secrets.” She sighed. “But if you need someone, I’m here. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Steve let out a long sigh, weighing his options. It was something to the tune of eight months until your birthday. That was still a long time. A lot of time for that secret to slip through the cracks and, potentially, break the timeline. The Butterfly Effect was something he had researched extensively. Your future together was something he wasn’t willing to risk.

No, it was too important that you stay in the dark, even if that meant keeping his friends in the dark, too.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. But I’m fine, really. It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded unconvinced. “Well, she’s out of it. Clint just texted. She wants twenty chicken nuggets and an Oreo McFlurry.”

The relief was immediate. You were okay. He could only wonder what you had seen in there, and why it had been so quick. The others had been under for upwards of ten minutes. You’d only been down three. “Well good. I’ll let Rhodey know.”

Invisible String

It was late. A few weeks after your tussle with the Scarlet Witch, if you could even call it that. You could tell Wanda felt guilty about the whole thing, but it wasn’t her fault. If anything it was Tony’s. Sure, the exercise had prepared you for a worst case scenario, but it had also dug a very awkward gap between you and Steve. You could barely even look at him without wanting to burst into tears.

He had his soulmate, whoever they were. You really needed to let it go.

You walked down to the kitchen to get a cold drink, but there was already someone sitting at the table. Steve, sitting there, hand resting on his chin, papers spread out in front of him. There was a picture you recognized as Bucky Barnes.

You’d heard whispers of him around the Compound from time to time. Steve’s best friend turned Hydra assassin, brainwashed for decades and now, rogue, out there somewhere. Sam always seemed to be looking for the guy. Natasha and Clint, too. And there had never been any sign of him. Well, until now, it seemed.

On the TV, Star Wars was playing. Empire Strikes Back. Steve looked up at it every so often.

“Star Wars?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Your first time?”

“No. They were the first things I watched when I was out of the ice. I like them a lot. The hope, the Force, the Jedi stuff, the music.” He shrugged. “They’re good.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

Steve smiled, sheepish. “Han Solo.”

“And here I thought you’d say Luke Skywalker.”

“He’s great, too. You like Star Wars?”

“Yeah, I used to be obsessed with them in high school. Haven’t seen them in a while, though. I’m something of a Leia girl myself.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Does it?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “You’ve got that spark.”

“What order did you watch them in?”

“Nat made me watch the originals first.” He confessed. “I like the prequels, though. Well, two of the prequels. Phantom Menace is…”

“Oh yeah. You’re not alone in that.” You laughed softly. “You know, I never really pegged you as a sci-fi nerd.”

“Yeah, well, someone I really care about seemed to like them a whole lot, so I knew I had to check them out.” He shrugged. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Getting a drink. What are you doing up so late?”

He looked down at the papers and then back up at you. “Oh. Yeah, this is just…Trying to get some stuff figured out.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offered.

He thought about it for a long moment, letting out a little sigh before nodding. That was the only reassurance you needed before grabbing a can of soda from the fridge and plopping down into the seat next to him.

“They found him. Clint and Natasha. They think he’s hiding out in Kentucky somewhere.” Steve said. He shook his head. “He saved my life a few years ago. After all the brainwashing, he still pulled me out of the water. I don’t know how much of him is still him, but…”

“But it’s worth a try.” You reasoned. “Obviously he’s been through a lot, but he must be pretty strong to have made it through everything.”

“I don’t know when I’m going. They haven’t narrowed it down all the way. And Tony doesn’t want me to even go at all.”

“Tony is full of shit.”

He laughed. “Yeah…”

“If you want to go, you should go. And if you need me, I’m there. You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

He met your eyes with a sobering gaze. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed. “When, uh, when I was in the eighth grade, my class took a trip down to DC. There’s a Captain America exhibit in the Air and Space Museum, it had just opened. We learned about you and Bucky. How close you were, what happened. There are videos of me just crying uncontrollably there, learning about it. They had to take me outside, get me some water. I couldn’t go back in. I don’t even know why. Something about it…”

“About me?” Steve whispered.

“That’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t have told you that.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s sweet.” Steve said, reaching for your hand on the table. You let him take it, fingers curling.

“So when you found me that day, I guess I always knew it would lead to something like this. A stroke of fate, or something.” You admitted. “Some part of me knew that you would mean something to me someday. I guess I never thought we would be friends.”

“How old were you?”

“God, this would have been like ten years ago at this point. I was like fourteen or something. I was twenty-one when they found you in the ice. It was all over the news my sophomore year of college, kind of right when I was figuring my powers out, actually. And then everything was all over the news and I…went into hiding more or less, hoping it wouldn’t be me on the TV next.”

“Until the mall?”

“Yeah. But I couldn’t just…let it happen, you know? It was like some part of me knew that I had these powers for a reason, and that if I didn’t stop it, who would? I didn’t know you were there, obviously, but, I think even if I had, I still would have jumped in.”

He smiled softly, eyes earnest. He gave your hand a squeeze. “Well I’m really glad you did, for the record. I think we’re all a little better off because of it.”

There was a moment of quiet. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“How old are you?”

“Oh, um…I’m ninety-eight.”

You chuckled. “No, like how old are you really?”

Steve took a breath. No one ever asked him that. No one really cared about that. No one except you, it seemed. “I’m not sure. I’d have to do some math. I think I’m twenty-eight maybe. Twenty-nine.”

“Thought so.” You smiled. “Well, Steve, whenever you get it figured out, say the word and I’ll suit up. We’ll bring him home.”

Out of the Woods

The next mission you were sent on wasn’t to bring back Bucky. Not yet. Instead, you were on the team that got deployed into a rainforest to break up a rogue Hydra base. It was warm, almost too warm for your uniform, but you were grateful for the coverage, especially when they started shooting.

You ran down the makeshift path, evading enemies and throwing up forcefields to stop them in their tracks. Thor was in town, so he was zipping around through the trees with his hammer, the force of it bringing some down every once in a while.

“On your six.” Steve reported through the comms. You dodged out of the way and sure enough, a Hydra agent tumbled ahead, tripped by a small field you cast at his feet. A few of Natasha’s bullets took care of that.

“Thanks.” You replied.

“Don’t mention it. I could actually use some backup. I’m in the building. There’s more of them than I thought there would be.”

“I’m on my way.” You reported, changing directions and sprinting towards the building housing the Hydra base. What they were doing here, you had no clue, but Bruce theorized it had something to do with a meteor that had landed out that way a few months prior. They were probably harvesting whatever materials had been inside it.

You kicked down the door. Steve had six guys on him, two of which he disposed of quickly. You made a portal beneath one guy, sending him falling down a flight of stairs with the second portal you opened.

The other three guys went down quickly enough, only for a guy in a giant mech armor to come crashing through the interior wall. He shot and Steve jumped in front of you, taking a hit to the neck. A tiny syringe filled with shimmering purple liquid.

“Fuck! Steve!” You ran to him, but that didn’t take care of the large problem looming behind you. Seeing red, you made another portal at the feet of the robot, opened it in the ceiling, and cut it off as it was halfway through, destroying it in a flash of sparks and shredded metal. It shut down, giving you time to get to Steve.

He was sitting against the wall, head slumped to the side. You took the syringe out of his neck, tucking it into a pouch on your belt for testing. If this thing was poison, you’d need Bruce to start whipping up an antidote as soon as possible.

“Steve, hey, stay with me.” You touched his face, trying to wake him.

At your touch, he blinked a few times, drowsy. He gave you a crooked smile. “Heyyy, there you are.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta get you back to the jet.” You told him, pulling him to his feet, but he slumped in your arms like dead weight. You had been working out since you’d been recruited, but he was still heavy. “You’ve gotta work with me, big guy.”

“They used to call me little guy.” He murmured, sounding drunk. “Back in Brooklyn.”

“I’m sure they did.” You slung his arm around your shoulders and started hauling ass out of the building. A few agents shot at you, trying to hit you while you were distracted with carrying Steve to safety, but they forgot you were the one Avenger whose specialty was defense.

You lit a forcefield in your left hand, using its faint blue light to guide the two of you through the dim hallways. It slowed all the bullets to a stop, causing them to drop to the floor harmlessly. There was something kind of poetic about it, you supposed. Steve was so famous for that shield of his, but now you were the shield, protecting him.

“Did you guys find anything in there?” Clint asked.

“The good news is, we cleared most of it out. Bad news is, Steve got shot with something. I’m bringing him back to the ship now. I don’t know what it was but he’s acting really drunk.”

“Tranq darts seem to have that effect on him, yeah.” Bruce explained. “Bring him back here and I’ll make sure it wasn’t laced with something else.”

“On it.”

You lugged Steve along, stopping to rest and readjust against a wall for a second.

“Thank you for takin’ care of me even when I don’t feel so good.” He said, leaning his full weight against you.

“Of course, Steve. I’ve got ya.” You pulled his arm around your shoulders again. “You would do the same for any of us.”

He smiled, face impossibly close to yours. “Oh, I’d do anything for you, (Y/N).”

You knew it was probably just the drugs talking but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something to you when he said it anyway.

Once you were outside, you opened a waypoint in front of the two of you, the second portal in front of the jet, and then stepped through, closing it behind you. Bruce opened the door and helped you haul Steve inside, onto the cot of the makeshift mobile infirmary.

You handed Bruce the empty vial.

“Thank you for remembering. Thor always breaks these and then I have to do bloodwork to figure out what was in them.” He chuckled.

“He’s very smash first, ask questions later.”

“No wonder he and Hulk get along so well.” Bruce joked. “Alright, get back out there. I’ll make sure he’s alright.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful out there.” Steve advised, eyes half-lidded. “They have guns.”

“I’ll be extra careful, alright? I promise.” You met his eyes and he smiled immediately. Once you were sure he was okay, you stepped out of the jet again, getting back to help the others.

***

When you got back, you were nursing a bullet wound. They’d gotten you in the arm. It wasn’t too bad, though, the bleeding had almost stopped. Natasha went straight for the med kit when you two stepped foot on the jet, motioning you over to the stool.

Steve was there, still on the cot. He stared as Nat started cleaning your wound. “Wait, you got hurt?”

“I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”

He nodded and reached for your hand. “I’m really glad you’re alright, doll. Had me worried sick.”

Doll. You replayed the word in your mind. Steve had called you a lot of things in the past few months, but never once had he used that somewhat outdated term of endearment. You liked it, though.

You met Natasha’s eyes and she smirked while the supersoldier held your hand.

Sam walked in next, eyeing up the scene unfolding in front of him. “Woah, what’d I miss? Feels like I missed several chapters.”

“Steve is drunk.” Clint explained, counting his remaining arrows.

“Tranq dart. He’s fine. Just needs to ride it out for a few hours. He should be back to normal by the time we get home.” Bruce explained as he put away his tablet.

“You feeling alright, buddy?” Sam walked over and put a hand on Steve’s other arm. “You’re holding (Y/N)’s hand kinda tight there.”

“Huh?” Steve asked, directing his eyes to your joint hands. He let go. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Steve.” You reassured him.

The others trickled in slowly until everyone was accounted for, the base destroyed, the Hydra operatives in SHIELD custody for questioning. Fury and his team would handle it from there. You couldn’t help but play the mission over and over in your head.

Never had you used a waypoint to split something in half. But something had clicked in you when Steve was hurt. You’d never felt like that before, like part of your soul itself was being ripped out. He meant more to you than you cared to admit, especially when your fate was tied elsewhere.

Still, your new ability needed training. It was a dangerous skill to have, and if you didn’t hone it properly, you could end up doing some serious damage on accident.

Come Find Me in the Future

It was the night before you and a select group of the team were heading out to find and recover Bucky. Clint had finally gotten a hit on him. But if he had, that meant others could be after him, too. People that wanted him back. Badly.

You were nervous about it for that reason. You weren’t sure why the rest of you hadn’t already left, to be honest. You didn’t want to race with Hydra. It wasn’t one you were sure you’d win.

To stave off the feeling of dread, you had commandeered the living room TV and popped in Howl’s Moving Castle. You were nursing a mug of chamomile tea in your hands, playing games on your Switch.

You were near the end of the movie, at the part where Sophie was whisked to the past, when Steve walked into the room, in his pajamas, a tank top and a pair of plaid pants.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hey. You’re up late. Big mission tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s almost over.” You told him. “Drinking my sleepy tea as we speak.”

“Sleepy tea?”

“Chamomile mint. It’s good. There’s some over by the Keurig if you want any.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, walking over. “What’s this?”

“Howl’s Moving Castle. One of my favorites.” You told him.

“What’s it about?”

“That is a complicated question.” You laughed. “I’d have to start it over, I think.”

“Another time, maybe.” He chuckled, crossing his arms.

Steve watched as Sophie got sucked back through the wormhole to the present.

She called out “I know how to help you now! Find me in the future!”

He perked up. “Wait, she…there’s time travel?”

“Yeah, she gets pulled into the past for a bit and tells him to find her and then years later, the first words he says to her are ‘There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ It’s really sweet.”

“They’re soulmates?”

“They are.” You nodded.

“Does that happen? Often?” Steve asked, hung up on it. “In real life?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of that happening before.” You shook your head. “I don’t think anyone would believe it, even if it did. Happens a lot in fiction, though.”

“Oh. Cool.” Steve nodded. He met your eyes and then looked down at his lap, tongue flitting across his pink lips. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “For what?”

“The mission last week. I, uh…I said some things and, uh…I just, I’d hate to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t.” You assured him. “No apology necessary. You were drugged. I probably would have said worse, to be honest.”

He smiled. “Okay. Cool. Thanks. And thank you for agreeing to come tomorrow. We could really use the help.”

“Of course. I’ve got your back, always.” You told him, earning another one of those earnest, lovesick smiles. “Anywho, I finished that playlist for you. The Taylor Swift one. I can make you a more general one with different songs, but…figured that was a decent starting place.”

“Great, yeah, thank you.” He nodded, looking at his phone as it pinged with the notification you had sent it to him. “I’ll give it a listen.”

“Let me know what you think.”

“Oh I will.” He chuckled to himself. “Really, thank you. I appreciate it. And um, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.” You saluted.

He nodded before repeating, “Bright and early.”

Bygones

Bright and early was an understatement. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when your alarm went off. You groaned, rolled over and silenced your screaming phone, forcing yourself to sit up so you didn’t drift back off.

Today was too important for that.

Instead, you got up, brushed your hair, and went out to the kitchen, where Vision had whipped up a full breakfast for everyone going out. It was you, Steve, Nat, Wanda, and Sam. A small team, but enough firepower to bring him back without overwhelming and/or scaring him off.

“Morning.” Steve said, eyes landing on you the moment you walked into the room.

“Morning.”

“Coffee?” He offered, pushing a cup of your favorite iced coffee over to you. You couldn’t lie, you were impressed.

“Thanks.” You grinned, taking a long sip to kickstart your morning. You loaded a plate up with eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast, plus a little side of hashbrowns, thanking Vision thoroughly.

“It is my pleasure, (Y/N). As someone who does not require sleep, it would be rude of me to let you all starve so early in the day.”

“(Y/N), you got him listening to Taylor Swift?” Sam asked, eyes drilling into you.

You laughed. “Uh, yeah. What about it? She’s a cultural icon, do you want him left out of the loop?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Steve shrugged, sipping on his coffee.

“Of course you’re not.” Natasha chuckled, words warbled by her own cup. You noticed the way her lips pursed. If you weren’t mistaken, you’d say she was nervous. About what, you couldn’t tell. She seldom got nervous. Or at least, she seldom let it show. But it was definitely there.

Wanda was the last into the kitchen, already fully put together. She gave the chef her thanks with a warm smile and sparkling eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. Those two, beyond a shadow of a doubt, were absolutely made for each other. You wondered what her wrist would have to say about it when the time came.

Once everyone had eaten, those who weren’t suited up got ready, locked and loaded for a tense mission. You’d have Clint on the coms here, doing recon from a drone. The rest of you loaded up onto the jet, strapping in.

Nat and Sam hopped into the cockpit. Wanda sat next to you, Steve across the aisle, his eyes meeting yours every so often.

“It’ll be alright.” You said, trying to dispel his nerves.

He nodded, but didn’t reply, just giving a short nod and staring at the holographic map on the wall as you approached closer and closer. You could see that little guy from Brooklyn peeking through the eyes of the supersoldier sitting across from you, nervous about his best friend.

You unbuckled just before you landed, walking across the jet to strap on your weapons. The others did the same, arming themselves. Nat was going to keep the jet warm for a speedy exit, the look in her eyes still unreadable. The rest of you got ready for war.

It was an abandoned warehouse, large garage door, broken windows, slanted roof with a hole in it. Definitely not the most secure of places. According to Clint’s drone, Bucky was in the back room.

“Waypoint, I need you out here ready to get us a quick escape.”

“Got it.” You nodded, positioning yourself within eyeshot of the warehouse and the jet so you could make a portal either way.

“Wanda, Sam, you’re with me.” Steve instructed, taking a minute to breathe, to think. “He’s gonna be ready to run. We have to talk him out of it.”

“Uh, Cap. Might wanna work a little faster. There’s another plane incoming. About three minutes out.”

“Alright.” Steve nodded, taking off his helmet and slinging his shield onto his back. He led the other two into the building.

For a heartwrenching two minutes, you didn’t hear anything. And then you heard a plane. And then gunshots.

“(Y/N), now!” Steve instructed.

You did as you were told, opening the waypoint in the warehouse, another just outside. Nat had picked the jet up off of the ground, firing at the one Hydra had brought. She took another shot, damaging the wing and causing it to go down.

“Shit, wait—!”

There was a flash of light and you expected it to be Steve that came through first. Maybe Bucky, even. Instead, it was a grenade. And a split second later, it exploded, knocking you unconscious.

***

Steve stood over you, horrified. Thanks to your suit, the damage didn’t seem too bad. But you had blood and soot caked on your face, the ends of your hair singed.

It was his fault. He had told you to open the Waypoint, only for a Hydra agent to toss a grenade right through it.

He all but collapsed to his knees, collecting you in his arms. Bucky was on the jet already, Sam, too. Only he and Wanda were outside with you.

“(Y/N), come on. Open those eyes for me.” He pleaded, voice soft, eyes aching with tears. “Hey, come on. Please…”

“We should get her back to the jet.” Wanda goaded softly, a hand on Steve’s arm.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. He scooped you off of the ground, an arm beneath your legs, the other around your back. Your arms hung down, limp. Your head rested heavily against his shoulder, eyes closed.

By the time Steve walked up the ramp, Nat already had the infirmary cot down, ready to go. Bucky watched, eyes intense. He looked up when Steve approached, eyes falling on you. They widened when he got a look at you.

“Woah, is that…?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “It is.”

Natasha helped him get you situated in the cot, wrapping the cuff around your arm that would measure your vitals. With everyone accounted for, Sam closed the door, lifting the jet into the air.

“I’ve got Banner on the line.” Natasha told him.

“Good.” Steve’s eyes didn’t leave you for a second, watching as the breaths entered and left your lungs. “Tell him to get the infirmary ready for her.”

“Already on it, Cap. She’ll be okay. Her vitals look…well they look good, all things considered.” Bruce relayed. “Just get back here as fast as you can.”

***

As soon as the jet landed, Steve unhooked you from the vitals monitor and collected you in his arms, carrying you to the gurney Bruce had ready, walking with him as he wheeled you towards the infirmary. Bruce insisted he needed some time and sent Steve away, taking a piece of his heart with him.

Vision checked over Bucky, giving him the okay almost immediately before going to help Bruce in the infirmary.

Steve sat at the table, Bucky sitting down to join him. The others gave them a minute alone.

“Hey, pal.” Steve exhaled, trying to force a smile. “Glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” He agreed. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Of course.” Steve nodded. “I’m with you—”

“Til the end of the line.” Bucky smiled, eyes soft. His irises flicked towards the infirmary and back. “You wanna talk about it?”

Steve let out a sigh, the wall finally coming down and more tears slipping down his cheeks. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. She’s—”

“She’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” Bucky’s hand grabbed onto Steve’s wrist, the covered one. The one with her name etched onto it. “She has to be. Has she…does she know yet?”

“No one does. Just me. And you.” Steve confessed. He wiped his thumb under his eye. “So you’re right. She has to pull through.”

Steve held onto that spark of hope for the coming hours. He showed Bucky to the room that had been prepared for him, but Sam offered to give him a tour of the place, knowing their friend was in a fragile mental state.

Eventually, Vision found him and told him he could enter the infirmary. Bruce had finished treating you. When Steve walked in and saw you, still unconscious, laying on that bed, he choked on more sobs. The bruising on your face was pretty severe. You were hooked up to several monitors, an IV. Supposedly, your injuries were not too extreme, but you had a cracked rib and would need time to heal before you could do any missions or training.

Hours later, Nat found Steve in there, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. He fiddled with the cuff around his wrist. The playlist you’d made for him played softly from a speaker in the corner of the room. Timeless. As if he wasn’t already crying enough.

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve. Bruce thinks she might wake up soon.” Nat comforted, sitting in the chair next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, confused by her friend’s sudden mood. Members of the team had been injured before and sure, he checked on them, but he never reacted like this.

“I know, I just…” He shook his head. “I’m worried about her is all. It’s…kinda my fault this happened.”

Nat pressed her lips together, tilting her head. “This seems like a little more than that. You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

He wanted to hold onto his secret. He did. But he was feeling fragile, vulnerable. It couldn’t hurt to have just one more person on his side. “I can, just…not here.” Steve nodded, leading her out of the room, out of your earshot, if you could even hear him while you were out, but still in sight thanks to the soundproof windows.

Nat’s hands settled on her hips, waiting for an answer. Instead, Steve took the cuff off of his wrist and held it out to her, letting her read the letters that had been etched there for the better part of a century.

Her jaw dropped. She stammered, arms crossing. She met his eyes and when she saw the sadness there, the guilt and longing, her expression softened.

“I should have told her. A long time ago, I should have told her but I can’t. In six months, on her twenty-fifth, she’s going back in time to 1943 to meet me on mine. And it…didn’t seem like she knew until she was already there.”

“So you’ve just been holding it in this whole time?” Natasha asked. “You’ve been in love with her…”

“Since the forties, yeah.” Steve nodded. “My great lost love, as Tony likes to call her when he rags on the band I wear.”

“Does he know?”

“No. Just you. And Bucky.” Steve amended. “He was there when she…”

“Right. Weird.” Natasha let out a long sigh, looking through the window. Her fingers reached for her own cuff. She hesitated, but pulled it off, holding her soulmark out to him. “Fair is fair.”

Steve stared at the letters for a long time, realization slowly filling his eyes. The name on her wrist was none other than James Buchannan Barnes. “Oh my God.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you until all the dust settled, but it just settled, so…” She shrugged, putting the cuff back on. “I’ll figure out how to tell him, too, if he doesn’t know already.”

“Buck’s mark was grayed out back then. We thought…well, we didn’t know what it meant.” Steve said, shaking his head. It was the reason Bucky had dated around so much back then. He’d figured if he just found someone else, his mark would change and he wouldn’t have to be alone. Never could he have guessed what it actually meant, that his soulmate wouldn’t be born for another forty or so years. “And then he lost his arm…”

“Yeah, that part I did know.” She smirked. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on her. Let you know if she says anything you need to hear.”

“She probably thinks my soulmate is dead, too. Everyone else does.”

“Ironic.”

“No kidding.” Steve sighed, gazing longingly through the window.

“We’ll get you through it, Steve. You’ve waited seventy years. Six months is nothing.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna sit with her for a while. I don’t want her to wake up alone.”

He slinked back into the infirmary and sat in the chair beside your bed, watching your steady breaths and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. Natasha watched him through the window, feeling lighter and heavier at the same time. Nevertheless, she was glad they had talked. At least now, they could be there for each other.

Vol. 2 Here

Tags: @cap-lu20

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers soulmate au #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #marvel #mcu #avengers

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soralymystaken · 3 months

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My headcanons on the ninja’s favorite foods / diets because I am so normal about these characters.

Cole - Cake. I don’t think I have to explain this. It couldn’t be more canon lmao. If I had to pick a particular cake as his favorite, he’s definitely one of those people who adores chocolate lava cakes. I think that and red velvet are is favorites. I also feel like he has a very high spice tolerance.

Zane - In my headcanon, nindroid!zane does not need to eat, so he doesn’t really have a favorite food. For human!zane, I feel like he would have very expensive taste. I think my pick for his favorite would be lobster. No reason why, just my thoughts.

Jay - Jay was easily the hardest to pick. I faintly remember him saying he liked Chen’s Noodles, so I could pick something like ramen as his favorite food, but while I think that fits, I think all of the ninja really like Chen’s Noodles. The food that comes to find for me, although it has 0 basis in canon, is burritos. I feel like he loves the amount of food there is, the fact that it is “easy to eat,” and the fact that “there are so many different configurations that it’s practically a different food every time.” Oh, and dino nuggets. No explanation needed.

Nya - Nya loves sushi, and you can fight me on that fact. While this makes things kind of hard as Jay is kind of scared of the concept of eating raw food, Jay still will eat it with her and Nya is still obsessed. Also enjoys mac and cheese when no one is looking lol.

Kai - Okay, this section is gonna have a lot of angst and I’m not apologizing for that. Kai and Nya never had much to eat, but Kai always made sure Nya had food on the table. In fact, one year on Nya’s birthday, he surprised her with by going with her to get (albeit cheap) sushi. He claimed he felt sick, though, so he didn’t eat any. In reality, though, he had only saved enough for Nya, and seeing her happy was a million times better than the food itself. As for his personal taste, Kai isn’t very picky when it comes to food. Growing up, almost everything he ate was rice, as that was what was grown where he lived. This has led him to really disliking rice, due to its unsavory memories. One of Kai’s favorite foods, funny enough, is pizza. This is primarily due to, when Kai had some extra money and Nya was unfed, he would order himself a pizza as a treat. This basically never happened as Kai always felt guilty spending money on himself when it could have gone to Nya, but it’s led to pizza being very important to Kai now that he has enough money to afford it.

Lloyd - I have a lot of thoughts on Lloyd. Firstly, as proven by canon, Lloyd has a major sweet tooth. I wouldn’t give candy as his favorite food since I feel it is too broad, and I don’t have a specific candy to give him because he likes all candy equally. I also feel like he quite likes junk food. Similarly to Kai, Darkley’s didn’t have a ton of food options, so fast food was the cheapest and easiest option for Lloyd. However, unlike Kai, he still finds comforts in the foods he ate as a child. Finally, when I was drafting ideas for this post, for some reason I had Lloyd’s as green bean casserole, and I have no logical explanation for this, but I cant unsee it. My explanation I’m giving is, whenever there was a potluck/bring your own food type events, he always brought really bad green bean casserole just to annoy people and still has some fondness for it because of that. Oh, and dino nuggets for him too. Again, no explanation needed.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago zane #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago nya #ninjago lloyd #ninjago headcanons

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toracainz · 4 months

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Tell Me Where to Put My Love pt4

You and Steven haven’t been together very long, but that won’t stop either of you from fighting tooth and nail for a chance at a future together.

Series Masterlist

Part 3 - Different Kind of Danger in the Daylight

Part 4 - Unavailability Is The Only Thing That Turns You On

Part 5

Warnings: Inaccurate depictions of DID (only knowledge from the show and some light research). Swearing. Established relationships. Married relationship. Use of term “priest” in a gender neutral sense. Discussion about cheating. Discussion about homewreckers. Canon typical violence in later chapters. Mentions of food. Angst. Fluff.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I am so sorry it's taken me this long to post the next part, been stewing over this part for so long. 😭 Personal stuff happened and then writer's block and ugh. Anyways, I hope you like it. 🥺

There you were, outside his flat, standing by the road looking up at his floor. You had to go in sooner or later, but the pit in your stomach made it hard to move any further. You were honestly lucky you made it as far as you did thanks to some encouragement from Tutu. It was strange that he seemed to care so much, maybe he really did. You were sure that by now Layla was in town and inside the flat. The bustling sounds of average Londoners going about their day helped keep you calm (well, calmer), oddly enough.

“He’s not going to come to you, child.” Tutu stood atop the nearby building. “Though knowing him, he might actually.” The god chuckled. “Go. All will be well. You are strong.”

Glancing up at his masked face you can almost feel the reassuring smile hidden behind it. With a nod, you take a moment to collect yourself before starting inside the building. What would you say first? What do you say first? Obviously introduce yourself, or maybe Steven would introduce you. Wait, who’s going to be fronting during this? Are they going to be, what did Steven call it? Co-conscious? How easy was it for them to switch? Steven had mentioned he and Marc could do it pretty effortlessly now that they were closer. You still hadn’t actually seen them switch yet. Since he had come back it had always just been him with maybe a stray comment here or there in Steven’s head from Marc.

The lift seemed to be moving so slowly, compared to the speed of your thoughts racing through your mind. Oh God, would Layla even want you to step foot in the flat? What would Steven do if she refused to talk to you? Surely, she would at least talk…right?

Oh. When did you get in front of his door? Muscle memory must have carried you here. Well, you’re here. You take another deep breath sensing Tutu’s reassuring presence as you lift your hand to knock. That’s when you hear it. Layla is talking, but you’re not sure to who, was it Marc or Steven? You imagine probably Marc, that’s who she’s here to see…unless... You try not to dwell on it and find yourself knocking on the door. Things fall silent in the flat other than a low voice, maybe Marc, and the sound of approaching steps. To say you were relieved when Steven swung open the door with a smile was an understatement.

“Hello, love. Come in, come in. Make yourself comfortable of course. Uh…but first I think it’s best to get the introductions out the way, yeah?” He ushers you in, his hand finding a gentle place on your back out of habit as he introduces you to Layla. She gives you a curt smile, brows lifting slightly as she reaches out offering a handshake. You take it with a nod.

“Steven has said a lot of nice things about you.” She rests her hands in her pockets glancing between you and Steven. “So, I guess now that everyone’s here…we should eat.” She says, trying to change the subject. The air was so thick with tension you weren’t sure you could move from where you stood.

“Oh right, yeah.” Steven says to Layla as she starts into the kitchen to get out plates and cups. He turns to you with obvious concern on his face. “I truly am glad you came. I made your favorite and look…nothing has to happen tonight. I certainly don’t expect things are alright between us, but I’m just happy you’re here. Um, Marc and I, we’ll be switching a bit so just warning you. It’s not scary or anything, I just…well Layla’s seen it so she’s used to it. I just didn’t want you to be surprised.”

Oh, God did you love him. He was so concerned about you being comfortable despite the very uncomfortable situation you all found yourselves in. He had made your favorite dish and was trying to make sure you knew that there were no expectations and that you wouldn’t be surprised by his and Marc’s behavior. You nod letting a small smile appear. “Yeah, alright, Steven. Thank you.”

He smiles back with a nod. He would have usually kissed your head, but he resigned himself to just placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. It didn’t feel right, even with the context of everything happening. The very demure gesture when both of you were very much comfortable with hugs and kisses just felt foreign.

“Uh, Steven? The food?” Layla approaches the cleaned off dinette table and starts setting it as Steven hurries into the kitchen to bring the dishes over.

“Is there anything I can do?” You offer, trying to rescue yourself from the role of knot-on-a-log.

“Yeah, love. Could you get that dish there on the counter please? We’re doing a sort of pot luck style, just get what you like sort of thing.” He set the dish down before going to get the drinks. “Hope everyone enjoys. Marc tried to make one of Layla’s favorites and one of his. I, of course, made a favorite of mine and of yours. We can all dig in! Try out each other’s favorites!” Suddenly, Steven’s face scrunched up like he smelled something bad, but it wasn’t Steven that spoke. The seamless way they switched was something entirely unexpected.

“Hell no, Steven, you can have your vegan food. I’m gonna stick with my corned beef kugel. I won’t make you eat it, so don’t make me eat yours.” He shook his head with a huff as you all gathered around the table and took your seats. Just as seamlessly as Marc appeared Steven was back.

“Oi, rude. I didn’t say you had to, Marc. Just that everyone could if they wanted. He didn’t sleep well, stressed about cooking everything. Told him not to worry, that I could help. He’s a bit crank-“

“I am not cranky, Steven.” Marc returned to the front annoyed as he started to plate his food. You and Layla just watched as the two bickered about the food. Layla watched curiously while plating her own food. She had seen them do this while fighting in Cairo, so fighting amongst themselves in their flat wasn’t too different. You on the other hand tried not to stare. Not because you were weirded out or thought they were crazy. It was just incredible to experience, after all you had never known anyone to do this before.

You remembered how Steven was before he disappeared. Sullen, but still hopeful about life. A dark cloud always not far behind. Steven had been so beat down that he had nearly accepted his lot in life, lonely gift shoppist destined to never be a tour guide or have a partner of any kind, no friends, just unreturned voicemails to his mother and the living statue man. Steven seemed so free now. Free of his past burden, the secret life Marc was keeping from him, he was lighter and smiling much more, much much more. You loved it. Seeing him so happy and full of life. Even bickering with Marc seemed to elicit some degree of joy, poking fun at each other.

Layla had been there for them during such a chaotic time. She was strong after all. Stronger than you. The voice from your dream comes careening back through your mind, “What can you do that she can’t do better?” You close your eyes as you pick at your food, nibbling on the different dishes, trying to block out such thoughts. But what if there was truth to it? What if she really could do better for them than you could? You didn’t realize you had gone still until you felt a hand rest on yours. Following the hand up to its source you’re met with Steven’s concern filled eyes.

“You alright, love?”

You take in a shuddering breath. Were you starting to panic? Oh no, no not now. Not in front of her. “I uh, I’m sorry I just…I’m sorry. I just have to go to the loo.” You get up and try not to seem desperate to escape the room as you enter the bathroom sliding the door shut. Not much privacy, but it’s better than sitting in front of her. Comparing yourself to her. Being judged by her. Leaning against the sink your chest begins to rise and fall with hastened breaths. You try to force them to slow and deepen but they only come out shaky.

She was definitely better for them, both of them, than you were for Steven alone. She was strong and he deserved that. He didn’t need to be coddled or looked after like before with you. Layla could keep up with him and Marc. But you? Where could you fit in all of this? You can't find a place to fit. This is a different puzzle, one you’re certain your piece didn��t belong to. You look up into the mirror, seeing Tutu’s visage behind you. A gentle hand rests on your shoulder. Again, the mask hiding what could only be a look of sympathy…and perhaps pity.

“This isn’t going to work, Steven. This…whole thing is just…it’s too awkward. I don’t see this lasting long.” Layla says to Steven in a hushed tone, not enough for you not to catch some of it. Somehow your breathing quiets enough for you to listen, Tutu unsurprisingly gone now.

“They’re just nervous. This will work. It’s going to work, Layla.” Steven doesn't look at her as he shakes his head. “It has to work.”

“What? So…are the four of us going to live in the same house, hmm? Go on some weird double date, cause this dinner was going so well.” Her voice dripping with sarcasm as she moves to try and make Steven look at her, leaning forward slightly. “Marc and I haven’t even really started working through our own shit and now this?”

Steven stands up harshly, you imagine from the sound of a chair sliding back suddenly. He squeezes his eyes shut, staving off Marc’s attempts to front. “No, mate, you can talk to your wife after I make sure they’re okay.” This time he does look at Layla, his gaze firm, before starting towards the loo, his steps becoming softer and more careful the closer he gets.

“Love? You alright? You sick? If you need anything I’ll g-“

You open the door miraculously fighting off your tears. Looking up at him you reach out and his hand instinctively finds yours, his other one hesitantly reaches up to your cheek. Before it can make contact you move past him towards the front of the flat starting to grab your bag. You turn and look Layla in the eye, her slightly surprised gaze meets yours. No doubt surprised someone like you had the nerve to even look her way again (or so your brain was telling you).

“I’m sorry.” You find the words spilling out before you mean for them to, if those were even the words you wanted to say. Steven had followed you from the loo watching you wondering what you’d say next. “I’m sorry for…whatever it is you think I’ve done. I truly had no idea about you and Marc. How could I? I know I’m something akin to a homewrecker and I never meant to be. I just…I love Steven. I do, but you are clearly more capable and better suited for both him and Marc. I’m not you, by any-“

“Love, what are you saying?”

“They’re leaving, Steven.” Layla says. You just nod, unable to fight the tears any longer.

“I truly do love Steven, but from what he’s told me about you…you can take better care of both of them. I would just get in the way.” You sniffle, wiping your tears as you turn to start out the door. As your hand grabs the door knob a strong calloused hand grabs your arm. The fiery determination in the warm brown eyes that look at you catch you off guard.

“Now wait, just hold on, just a minute…time out. Now let’s all just chill the eff out, yeah?” He looks from you to Layla. “Yeah, alright, this isn’t ideal. But I love them and they love me, you heard them.” His grip on your arm isn’t painful despite how firm he holds on. Looking at you, his expression begs you to stay, but his eyes burn with a fire you’ve never seen before. “This can work if we are all willing to try. I won’t just give up…not getting rid of me that easily, love.” His focus is drawn away from you and to the mirror next to the door. He must be listening to Marc.

With the room growing quiet, expectant of what would be said next and by who, Layla decides to fill the silence.

“If they want to go, Steven, you can’t make them stay.” She stands up from the table.

Steven, shaking his head as he tries to listen to Marc and Layla, something that never went well in the past, steps away from you.

“What about what I want? I want to be with them. I never wanted to be Khonshu’s avatar, never wanted to have a “sleeping disorder”, and…no! I’m not giving you the body, you can talk with Layla when I’m through!” In the middle of Steven’s rant his head snaps to the fish tank, hands flying to his head, fighting against the pull from Marc trying to take control. Things are escalating and neither Marc nor Steven want the people they love to leave, and Marc knows Layla might.

“I believe I may be of assistance.”

His voice carried over the flat like a blanket, though a little louder than Steven or Layla would have liked. Both of them flinched, yelping, Steven jumping closer to you almost protectively (though screaming a little louder than he intended), and turning to see Tutu standing there in the middle of the flat. Layla suddenly was no longer in her normal clothes but instead in the gorgeous suit Taweret had gifted to her, holding her two swords out, almost like a reflex.

“Ha! I knew it!” Marc says, pushing to the front. Pointing at Layla, a satisfied grin on his face, confirming that she was still an avatar distracting him enough from the fact that there was a god standing in the flat. Layla looked as embarrassed as she would let herself appear to be as the suit dematerialized leaving her in her casual clothes yet again.

“What? Alright, yes I’m still Taweret’s avatar and because of this suit I’ve helped a lot of people.” She stood firm, justifying her connection with the goddess, her contrapposto posture contradicting her conviction as she defended herself.

“No, that’s great. I mean, Taweret was actually really nice so I don’t imagine she’s like Khonshu…manipulating and threatening,” Marc couldn’t help but smile at her. You recognize that smile. Love. A smile Steven would give you, and you fear that he has given that smile to Layla as well. Suddenly, Marc shifts and his posture changes.

“How?” Steven asks, turning the attention back to Tutu. Talking with gods had become fairly normal for Steven during his recent adventure. “You're the god of tombs and the protector of dreamers. Sorry, but…I’m not sure I understand how you could help.”

“You are correct, but it is my skill set that is more than capable of assisting.” His golden head nods towards Steven, as if to say “I’m at your service”. “I believe my avatar already knows what I intend to offer.”

With that, all eyes fall on you, your back against the door, eyes wide but drying up now that Tutu has appeared. His presence always a comfort to you. “Yeah…I know.”

“Well, what is it, love?” Steven’s brows gather in a myriad of emotions: confusion, curiosity, concentration.

“He intends to put us all into a dream. Any one of us could be the dreamer, but he would give us all the energy to lucid dream…in a space where we all could have a voice.” As if reading the god’s mind, you explain Tutu’s plan. You’d never done this before, created a dream space where you and another could interact. All of Tutu’s missions involved lucid dreaming, entering someone’s dreams and being fully in control of yourself. For the average person lucid dreaming is something you train yourself to do through repetition and practice.

“Yes, within the dream perhaps communication could be more effectively practiced.”

It was worth a shot, if all parties agreed, but something told you that Layla didn’t want to try it, didn’t want this to work. You couldn’t blame her. She was “here first”, and was actually married to Marc. If it were the other way around, maybe you might feel the same? Honestly it’s hard to truly know how you’d react in a situation until you’re actually in it. It’s easy to say “I’d do this” or “I’d never do that”, but when it really comes down to it you never really know.

Steven’s eyes and mouth open wide, mind racing to conclude how this could work, what it would feel like, if this would even be something he (or Marc) would feel comfortable doing. Communication is a little difficult, sure, tensions and stakes are high–not ‘ancient Egyptian god trying to take over the world and eat people’s souls’ high…but still high.

“I…I think…I think Marc and I need to talk…alone. The last time we were…not together…it wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience, yeah? Don’t think that this would be the same, no, it’s just…I think we should talk about it first.” Steven can’t help how his hands find each other to fidget like he had done so many times before, taking a deep breath he wills them apart. Things are different now, he’s not quite as timid or unsure of himself as he was before Marc, before Cairo. Things are different. He has Marc now and this is the life they wanted to share with each other, but the thought of someone catching a glimpse of one of their dreams, their nightmares…it was scary.

“Of course, Steven…Marc. Both of you. Not sure I like the idea much either but…stranger things have happened, yeah?” Layla’s voice has turned soft and tender. She can only imagine what could be going through Steven’s and Marc’s head. You felt the same. The two of them had been through so much in such a short time. Being vulnerable and open is still so new to them. If they were uncomfortable with entering a dream world, then maybe you all could find another way. You nod with a short agreement to Layla’s words.

The air in the flat was thinning in a good way, from the thick tense air that had begun to settle. You think that maybe it was Tutu’s presence that was facilitating this calm and maybe you'd be right. He’d never admit to such, but it’s welcomed all the same.

Steven looked at you and Layla, his lips curled at the corners into a gentle smile. “Thank you, both of you. I promise, we’ll try and have an answer for you both soon…uh well for all of you.” He turns to Tutu, his smile turning sheepish.

“Take your time. I’ve waited this long, right? I don’t mind waiting…I’ll always wait for you, Steven.” You could feel your body wanting to take his hand, but could you? Would that be weird in front of Layla? This whole night had been weird so what’s one more thing? Before you can worry about that, as if he feels the pull too, Steven takes your hand. When your eyes meet it’s like the warmth from his hand spreads through you, even to your cheeks where a smile has found its way across your lips. This could work. It had to. You didn't really want to walk away. Sure, you still worry about being compared to Layla, but that will just be something to work through…with Steven.

~*~*~*~

After saying your goodbyes, each of you to your respective man, you and Layla share a very awkward elevator ride. If you thought the ride up was slow, this one is moving at a glacial pace, as if the weight of the tension was straining the mechanics. Thanks to the mirror covered walls you steal glances of Layla, seeing how beautiful she is this close, feeling how confidence just falls off of her. You could see why Marc and even Steven could fall for her. Taking a deep breath, you try and keep those dark thoughts from growing again, the last thing you need is to have yet another panic attack in front of her.

“It’s nothing personal, you know,” Layla says, breaking the silence, not turning to look at you but opting to look at you in the reflection facing you both. Your eyes widening a fraction prompt her to continue. “I get it. Finding out there’s ‘someone else’ is…it’s not fun. I mean, every time I think I know him, Marc I mean, it seems something else comes up and it’s like I haven’t known him at all.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. You really could sympathize. You could only imagine what it must have felt like for her, to think that her husband was cheating on her. You and Steven weren’t married, but it still hurt a lot.

You take a moment to mull over her words. What do you even say? “Yeah, it was a not-so-pleasant surprise…guess we’ll just have to wait and see what’ll happen next.” What more was there to say right now? It was clear by how she was talking to Steven that she didn’t think this would work or maybe she didn’t want it to work. There was something that neither of you realized you had in common…persistance. Neither of you were going to give up the man you loved so easily, even in the face of uncharted territory.

Layla’s gaze went from the light indicating what floor you were passing back to you. It was…intense wasn’t the right word. Strong definitely, but there was something else there. You didn’t know how to react, if you should, but you could feel it. Like she was assessing a threat in battle. Your posture straightened, your expression steeling…you couldn’t let her get to you, whether she was meaning to get to you or not. If this was going to work, you couldn’t continue feeling so very small around her. You’re an avatar just like her, you can do this.

“Guess we will.” She said just after the elevator door dinged and opened to the ground floor hall. Her words felt like a challenge. It almost felt like she was expecting you to throw in the towel right then and there. Putting her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Layla started for the front door without looking back…she didn’t need to. You took a step out of the elevator and watched as she left, looking dazed? Stunned? You weren’t sure what you were feeling, anxious certainly, but there was so much going through your head you weren’t sure what to call it.

Once you were outside the building and headed for the sidewalk, you took a moment to look back at the building, up to the floor where Steven’s flat resides like you had only a hour or so ago. Your hands gathering together to fidget with the other, you could almost still feel Steven’s touch. With a sigh you turn and begin the trek back to your own flat.

Tutu loomed, ever watchful of his avatar, his golden deathmask for a head concealing any expression that might give away how he felt or what he was thinking. However, the god couldn’t hide how his body tensed, the way his hands clenched into fists. Ever so slightly, his head turned to glance behind him in the direction of Steven’s building, though there was nothing to be seen, there was no mistaking what he heard, what he sensed. Not wanting to be too far from his avatar (or at least that’s what he told himsel), Tutu disappears.

The sound of fabric fluttering in the wind was all that could be heard in the light of the crescent moon.

Don't forget to reblog and/or comment! I love to hear from you all!!

taglist: @roseqzpd @rosecentaur1916 @ahookedheroespureheart @sleepyamaya @parkeepingparker @lockleysgrl @marc-spectorr @vermillionsails @harrys-tittie @n0ripeaches @missdictatorme @bitchyglitterfox @spacecowboyhotch @randomchick546 @teacupcollector @local-mr-frog @stevenknightmarc @ahookedheroespureheart @mccn-bcys @juneknight

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #marvel #layla el faouly #steven grant x reader #khonshu #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #marc spector x layla el faouly #tell me where to put my love

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fumiku · 6 months

Text

Hear ye hear ye!

I come bringing two Dungeon Meshi marchil fanfics to share

Enough

He got crumbs of it in moments, here and there, and it would be more than enough to last the winter. Chil knew how to live on little, with only what he could afford. But love? Love he had had enough of for a lifetime.

I'll start with the shorter one that I wrote first, a quick Chilchuck POV 1.3k words oneshot that's bittersweet if not just plainly sad. It’s about repressing a crush essentially, but the marchil is mostly a front for a character study about Chilchuck’s complex feelings on his marital situation and love in general. I’ve been told many times in comments that even without shipping marchil it was enjoyable, so give it a shot if that sounds interesting!

He soaked her in, like hard bread softening in broth.

Grind Me Down Sweetly

Even years after their journey into the dungeon, Marcille wasn’t quite over her existential dread over short lifespans… And it showed. Every other day, she came by to Chilchuck’s locksmith shop with a shocking lack of locks to smith.

Coffeeshop au except it’s not an au and there’s no coffeeshop. This one is a long oneshot of 17k words, and contains flashbacks that are meant to loosely span over a year. This fic can pretty much be entirely read as platonic. They’re just close friends but they give married energy is all. Slice of life and cozy with a side of banter & tsundere behavior, and existential dread hurt/comfort as the cherry on the sundae. It contains some classic Dungeon Meshi things like storytelling through cooking and sharing meals~ If you like the Marcille and Chilchuck dynamic in canon, this is pretty much just a bunch of that, shenanigans abound!

She clung to her friends like time was always running out.

Blonde hair is the epitome of beauty to him meanwhile his greying hair brings her existential despair. I am composed and collected about this

"I am going to chase you out with a broom"

Some related-ish memes I made!

Extra author notes and marchil rambling under cut

With how chil is so irritable and private about romance and his feelings it makes sense that their romance would have passive-agressive energy. Are they just friends or pining? Oh wouldn’t you like to know. Are they just lightheartedly bantering or is he legitimately pissed or are they blinking in morse code their true feelings at each other? Yes

My post-canon timeline is Chilchuck lives a nice life living alone in his house-shop except his friends all visit him and care, and even though he likes living alone it’s also bittersweet and every corner of his life is haunted by the ones he loves and loved and the moments he had with them. That’s it that’s all I want… (mostly the nice life part lol)

My marchil manifesto is that she grows on him stubbornly like fungal yeast and it brings out his flavor like beer <3 Because she stubbornly puts her nose everywhere and refuses to give up on getting closer to her friends and it makes him open up and repress his feelings less and aaaa <33 Obligatory shout out to the dunmeshi discord serv for engaging with my rambles

For someone who dislikes alcohol I’m having so much fun working beer metaphors and stuff into the writing, Chilchuck has all the fun motifs to play with fr... Traps, lockpicking, married life, work, destitution, starvation, rejection, repression, opening urself up to the world. Give me the most domestic fluff and give it a subtle foundation of angst and hurt comfort 👌

And I do think that Marcille takes a particular interest in Chilchuck especially because he’s so set on being a closed book as well. Yeah she def is like 👀 at him. Aaah the way she wants to meet his family so bad 😭💕 I think she romanticizes him & his family life/idealizes him as a virtuous husband a lot too. Like how she tends to think of things in a more flowery story-like way.

I do compare him to bread and her to soup in that he soaks up in her warm vibes and softens up. Which has become a personal favorite. He was bread, she was soup, can I make it any more obvious /lyr Soggy bread Chilchuck is so funny to me. Like, you know that rock solid bread but then you soak it in soup and then it just becomes the softest crumbliest thing. I think Chilchuck is a really hard bread that will break your teeth if you don’t put him in some soup beforehand. Or wine. I wracked my brain a lot about what food Chil would like (because his Adventurer’s Bible profile just says he love alcohol and hates sweet dishes rip) and I end up giving him a bread motif a lot, since it pairs well with alcohol and whatnot.

With marchil I either do unrequited angst because Chilchuck will NOT allow himself to feel, or the most domestic fluffy shit ever but in a mostly platonic dimension because once again -gestures at Chilchuck- But in a true Marcille "If I was Chilchuck’s wife" Donato fashion she manages to get her nose into the most stubborn’s people stuff like a barnacle and it’s. So married people coded anyways. They’re a lil messed up but it’s ok they’ll iron out those bumps. Ironing because they are gonna do the most domestic chores together 🔥🔥 MARRIEDCORE I TELL YOU I should get around to making more fics and more different vibes though, I already have a bunch of prompts written down~

Even more rambling and headcanons!!

I hc that when he gets his shop all his living quarters are half-foot sized so whenever the party comes to visit they suffer sitting down at the dinner table and whatnot

There’s a very specific horror in not being able to grow old with your loved one… It’s gotta be rough being in a relationship where you don’t mature at the same speed/rate. It must be so heartbreaking to turn around and your lover suddenly looks 70 while you’re still like 26 Chilchuck living until he lives with either Meijack or Flertom or at the castle and spends his days grumbling about people being even more incompetent than they used to be real. He can live longer than 50 🙏 come on peepaw you can make it to 70. He’s got so many friends ready to nurse him, prob while he complains about it. This is why I find elderly half-foots a funny mental picture. For a while I wondered if half-foots aged visually much at all in the traditional sense, and then I remembered these.

In my post-canon headcanons I’ve adopted the idea that Marcille doesn’t do her hair, it’s always someone else making her hairdos like an attendant or Kabru and like maybe Falin learns. In the "it takes a village to raise someone" community mutual aid energy… And the rare times where the task befalls Chilchuck he learns how to put it in a single braid (even if it’s so much hair for him to hold in his small hands all at once rip) because the one time he braided it in two in canon it reminded him of Meijack and gave him psychic damage. WHICH. Ohhh my god you have no idea how much I care about Chilchuck’s daughters now. After writing the first half of Grind Me Down Sweetly I am forever changed I know them all by name and know everything there is to know about them, I am making so many headcanons every day… Meijack wears thigh-high boots because she hates when sand, dirt or snow gets in her shoes- I have fanart coming up of them over at @fuumiku and I’d love making fics centered around them as well eventually yippee The angst of old senile Chilchuck still tying marcille's hair... Old senile chilchuck confusing marcille for one of his daughters… "Have you gotten taller? Oh how much you’ve grown" -breaking his neck looking up at her- I want Chilchuck to get the top notch elder treatment.

Ok this is the alcoholism tangent. I really want to believe Chilchuck can be super old, but… Realistically he’s gonna drink himself to an early grave, he’s a work hard play hard kinda guy.

Marcille would be horrified if she knew the extent of it fr fr, but I do think it’d drive a wedge between them if she tried getting him to lay off of it… If he’s open to it though that’d be so nice and sweet. Hey hey btw did you know, Chilchuck is canonically underweight due to extremely strict dieting and alcohol can act as a good hunger suppressant! Lots of issues to dig into here It’d be cute if his daughters visit him often and collectively keep tabs on him in a caring way. It’s less cute actually beinh the daughter and having to deal with it but- CHILCHUCK IS WORTH IT okay!!! Where’s that meme of "You can fix him? So is 5 other people y’all look like a construction crew" bc this increasingly looks like ‘Marcille Senshi Laios Izutsumi and his family make sure he doesn’t poison himself like a dog with chocolate’ mission.

Truly for some people reason just flies out the window when it comes to alcohol, coherence gives way to excuses. He reminds of someone I know who got a grave disease that’s worsened by alcohol and just. Continues to take it regularly. You know that thing that’s said where "an alcoholic parent will have 2 kids, one will grow to be alcoholic too while the other will never touch a drop of alcohol" and Chilchuck is def the first I think. He gives the vibe that he’d say "An alcoholic parent puts a strain on familial relationships?? Pshh, my father was and look at me! I turned out great!". I don’t think Chil could really get shaken out of it at this point tbh, seems very ingrained in him, would prob fight it back. I relate with my own familial situation ughh. Maybe if he realized how it hurt the people around him and not only himself though…. I’d def like to see him ease up on it. Drinking is often a social activity though. That gives me hope, especially with the whole dunmeshi lesson of sharing meals, that he might be able to/have recontextualized how or when he likes to take alcohol, that alcohol is better when you have others with you and you’re still able to talk and whatnot. Chilchuck says that he’s pretty picky with alcohol tho, like he has specific tastes or a high bar. Laios can ban good beer in the kingdom and then Chilchuck just stops because it all tastes awful and he’s not rich enough to import. The brewery he likes mysteriously burns down in a fireball incident one night. Marcille risks prison for her loved ones part 2, now with diplomatic immunity! ✨

I have hcs about Chil’s family dynamic, about his daughters and how alcoholism or workaholism may have affected everyone (not me inferring that Puckpatti being the most idealistic and optimistic from Chil’s daughters is probably a result from her being the youngest and perhaps Chil being the most often at work during that time and so she was mostly raised by her mother without much involvement from him). That’s a topic for another day though, for now I leave you all with thoughts of Flertom painting flowers on a shitty ceramic mug when she was 3 and Chil begrudgingly asking Marcille advice on picking a birthday gift for Puckpatti :) Oh yeah, because if we look at the timeline in The Adventurer’s Bible and combine it with when Chilchuck said that "Due to certain circumstances he hasn’t seen his wife or daughters in years" in the Senshi backstory chapter, besides letters with Flertom he has seemingly not seen them in 4 years. 4 YEARS. Thank god dungeons disappeared, it took that much for him to retire

#dungeon meshi #fanfiction #chilchuck tims #marcille donato #marchil #CHILCHUCK IS UNDER ATTACK!!#Breaking news #old man who refuses to open his heart and accept love fighting for his life against nosy friend #Everyone thinks Laios is the rabid dog of the party but when it comes to Chilchuck it totally becomes Marcille and I love that for them #My favorite marchil dynamic is that they’re close friends but they give married energy #not casual reminder at all that Chilchuck is canonically underweight #Y’all that follow my meme dumps are getting a sneak peek #So many headcanons and so much rambling oops #A lot of it’s copy pasted from the dunmeshi discord hi friendos #fumiku fanfic #fumiku fics

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ghosttownwherenoonegoes · 2 years

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Oh my gosh, Erika. I finally thought of an Eddie thing to send you. So, I have adhd and I zone out a lot, y’know like daydreaming etc. And I was wondering, what with the whole bit with Chrissy not responding to Eddie when he tried to snap her out of her trance, how would Eddie feel if you zoned out on him? Maybe mid-conversation? You didn’t mean to, your mind just wandered. And then Eddie snaps his fingers and you look at him, and he’s relieved that you’re ok. (I’m sorry, Eddie😭 I can’t help it)

Hey, Allie!!💖 Thanks for your request hasdfghjkl I hope you enjoy! I wrote something similar to this a few days ago (the knuckle cracker drabble) so I apologise for any overlaps.

Anyone but you // e.m. x gn!reader

Content: ADHD!Eddie, reader totally checks out in a daydream, post-Chrissy but before everything else because in this house we can only stand hurting Eddie just a little, swearing, angst (canon compliant & in line with the ending of ep.1 and the boathouse scenes in ep.2), crying (Eddie), shouting (Eddie). Petnames (sweetheart, baby, honey), mentions of nausea/feeling sick (but no one is actually ill), situational anxiety, established relationship, mentions of the Upside Down. Mentions of reader looking like Chrissy but contextually it's meant specifically as the way Chrissy looks in the trance, and this is explicitly stated within the narrative. IT HAS NO BEARING ON THE READER'S APPEARANCE!!!!

I don't ever write reader to have specific characteristics, skin colour etc., I always keep it as vague as I can so that I can be as inclusive as possible.

Hurt, comfort, fluff.

Word count: 2, 619.

e.m. taglist: @eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @alliecheer007-88

(Send an ask to join! I ONLY write for Eddie!)

Nothing and no one made you daydream harder than Eddie.

His voice, his scent, those casual touches he bestowed upon his friends so often that it told an unspoken truth of just how touch starved he truly was, his laugh, that smile which always tried to split his face into two, those dimples and laugh lines... god, he was so beautiful and you always managed to get yourself so lost in him.

You could usually pull it off like it was nothing, daydreaming in the back of your head while the other part of you listened and interacted with him, but just sometimes, you sank so deep inside yourself that you went into a trance-like state, totally checking out of reality.

It happened at least once a day, honestly, but today was one of those days during which you couldn't pull it off. You went deep into your daydream and zoned out so hard that Eddie feared for your life.

And his heart.

You were stood in the kitchen, eyes looking through the air. They were glazed over, your hands by your sides, loosely clutching some headphones. It looked like you had been about to plug them in to your Walkman, or maybe rolling them around your hand so you could put them away neatly (not that it mattered, they still somehow managed to knot themselves up). You were stood totally still, there but not there all at once.

Eddie didn't notice right away; he was used to you daydreaming but he knew that you were still able to listen to him even when you went off in your own head. He longed to go with you, but watching the small smiles and other expressions cross your face often led his own imagination to go off on a tangent; he, too, had a raging case of ADHD.

It wasn't until you didn't respond to his joke, which he knew you would find funny - not a huff of air through your nose, not that beautiful laugh he'd burn the world down just to hear one more time, nothing - that Eddie stopped talking. He gave you ten seconds to respond to him; it was a system you had come up with in the early days of your friendship, that he would always give you ten seconds to come back into yourself and then respond before repeating himself, to avoid any frustrations or miscommunication for either party.

Ten seconds came and went. Five more, just for courtesy.

Still nothing.

Eddie's eyes shot up from where he had been fiddling with his steel rings, his hands in his lap, and he felt his stomach drop right through his feet and roll across the floor. He had only ever seen someone in a trance like that once and it had been the most traumatising and horrific experience of his life.

Chrissy.

You looked just like Chrissy.

"No." Eddie felt the nausea rising and he choked on a whimper. "N-no, no, no, no - " He was up and out of his seat in an instant, hands trembling fiercely as they fluttered about you like butterflies, never landing somewhere for long before they were off to land somewhere else. "Y/N! Hey, hi, hello!" Eddie waved his hands in front of your face; first his left hand, then his right, and then both at once.

Nothing.

His forehead grew hot, hotter still, burning him, and Eddie whimpered again, the sound thick. "Y/N, please, hello!" Eddie was patting at your shoulders lightly, his fingers spidered over the slopes there as he dragged his hands up your neck, cupped your face so gently. Fingers lightly tapped at the apples of your cheeks. "Y/N, please, please sweetheart, please wake up now. You know I don't like this, please, baby please, wake up now, wake up, Y/N!" He whimpered so loud, so hard, that it was almost a sob, and Eddie felt a tell-tale hot gush down his face on both sides, obscuring his vision.

It contorted your face even more and Eddie cried out as he snapped his fingers as hard as he could, right in front of your face, his fingers grazing across your nose. "Don't do this to me! Any - anyone but you, please, sweetheart, I - " Eddie looked down at the floor; you hadn't moved upwards like Chrissy did, but you still weren't awake. Your name tore itself from his throat. One more time, one more, just one more time. "Y/N!"

His panic woke you up.

You blinked once, twice, thrice, "Hm, what? E-Eddie?"

The reality of the situation knocked into Eddie so hard that he sunk to his knees right there in front of you, his hands covering his face. "Oh, jesus christ, jesus christ!" His whimpers and sobs were muffled, his hands pressed hard against his face. Tears ran in clear rivulets down his hands and dripped off his wrists, falling onto his tight black jeans like rain as you looked down at him, trying to come out of the fog still hanging over your mind quickly so that you could understand what had Eddie so scared, so upset.

All at once, you realised how it must have looked to Eddie, and the gasp from your throat ripped through the air as you practically threw yourself down in front of Eddie, fingers wrapping around his wrists and tugging his hands away from his face. "Hey, hey, Eddie," your voice was panicked, urgent, and it only made Eddie shake his head as he curled tighter and tighter into himself, his breathing picked up and that made yours pick up, and -

You stopped.

One deep inhale. Hold it, two three, exhale. Two, three. Focus on Eddie, he needs you now. Eddie, Eddie, focus on him.

Eddie.

All of the fog in your mind dissipated as your grip on his wrists squeezed lightly; I'm here. Eddie let you pull his hands away from his face this time, his eyes already swollen, his skin red and blotchy, and he whimpered as his chocolate eyes met yours for the first time since he had stood up from the sofa. "Hey, hi," You smiled softly at him, making a concerted effort to keep your voice soft. You were still panicking, your heart pounding in your head, "I'm so sorry I scared you, baby, I didn't - "

Eddie scrunched his face up, the relief and the fear coming off him in waves as he nodded his head, looking down at the floor before he tilted his head up to look at the ceiling, tears dripping down his cheeks as he took several slow measured breaths. His fists were clenched, bunched up in his jeans, and you took one of them in your own, fingers smoothing out his and interlocking them together before you brought your joined hands up to your chest, pressing down firmly. "I'm here, Eddie. With you. I'm so sorry I scared you, honey." Guilt was eating at you, but you brushed it off. Focus on Eddie, focus on Eddie... You couldn't even remember what you had been daydreaming about. It paled in comparison to the reality of a life with Eddie, anyway.

Eddie stared at your joined hands, his expression unreadable. He was trembling all over, cheeks damp and sticky with tears drying and those still shedding, small whimpers still leaving his lips even as he fought to calm down, adrenaline and fear and relief and love all rushing through his veins. "I - I thought - " Eddie whined, turned his face away from you, his hair a curtain shielding him from your view. "I thought you were - I thought I was gonna - "

No one had been there for Eddie the first time he went through this, and you would be damned if he had to experience it, however briefly, for a second time, alone.

"Hey, no," you cooed, catching his chin with your hand so you could look at him, "No, sweetheart. Shit, Eddie, I'm - " his face crumpled and yet another wave of tears came down, his shoulders shaking. "Oh, baby, c'mere." You opened your arms to him, unsure if Eddie wanted to be touched or not; when you and Dustin had found him in the boathouse, he had flinched away from the both of you and wouldn't let anyone near him. He had barely allowed a conversation, but Max and Dustin had coaxed him into it, and you had been so, so grateful to them and the others for helping you to take care of Eddie.

Bonds forged in the Upside Down were bonds made for life.

Eddie made another noise, one which tugged at your heartstrings, and he leaned forward and down; you watched him in confusion until he lowered his head onto your chest, and you understood. Eddie pressed his head down hard over where your heartbeat would be and he nosed at the fabric of your shirt, his hands clutching at your back like if he let go of you, he would simply die right there and then.

You sat there with him, listening to his sniffles and whimpers, which were softening and becoming quieter with each repetition, rubbing his back and pressing kisses down onto the crown of his head, your nose in his dark curls. "I've got you, Eddie, I'm here. I'm so sorry, baby."

Eddie's hands flexed around your shirt and he pulled away from you slowly, sniffling. He exhaled roughly, shook his head, and you reached forward with slow careful hands. You gave Eddie plenty of time to pull away but he didn't. He didn't. He pushed into your hands and your thumbs swiped slowly across his cheeks, wiping his tears away carefully. "All right, honey, it's all right," you were cooing and a part of you was embarrassed by it, but you also knew that what Eddie was most often missing, was the same tenderness he showed to other people. The way he treated others was how he wanted to be treated, and you knew that he would treat you like glass if the shoe was on the other foot, so there you were, cooing at him.

And Eddie was letting you. Soaking it all up like a sponge.

He needed it. He needed you.

One of Eddie's hands, still trembling, came up to cover the one you had on his cheek, and his fingers locked into yours, his dark eyes swimming with so many emotions it was hard to place even one of them. You held his eyes as steadily as you could, pushing down any hesitation or discomfort you felt with prolonged eye contact, and his other hand moved to press down over your heart again. When he couldn't feel it pounding against his hand as hard as he wanted to - so hard it was his own heartbeat - he frowned and pressed his hand against you so firmly that it almost hurt. It was a quiet desperation, panic clawed at him even in that moment, and then he was on you, arms around you tight, knocking you back onto the kitchen floor. His face was in your neck, his hair everywhere, hands clutching at your shoulders, your waist, your hips, your arms, anywhere and everywhere as Eddie touched as much of you as he could, face burrowed in your neck. He was shaking, crying, and all you could do was hold onto him. Eddie was one of those people who was okay until he wasn't and it never failed to take you for six because his emotions were always explosive.

You had seen him kick, scream, shout, yell, cry. You had seen him pace like a lion in a cage, you had seen him punch trees and hit walls, you had seen him sobbing on his knees. You had seen him so stoic and silent that you almost didn't want to be in the room with him just to escape his eyes. But in all the time you had known Eddie, you had never seen him fall apart so completely that he crumbled in your arms twice in the space of just one hour.

You rubbed his back, pressed kisses where you could reach, made yourself as available to him as you possibly could. You gave Eddie his space, granted him the closer-than-closeness he needed to accept that you were safe, alive, there. You watched the clock on the wall tick away five minutes, ten, seventeen... your body was getting sore from lying on the floor, but you still didn't move or try to get Eddie to move. He was calmer as the clock reached twenty minutes, just laying atop you, hands touching, stroking, feeling everywhere he could. Small sniffles escaped periodically but he wasn't crying or whimpering anymore and that meant he was beginning to calm down.

For the second time did Eddie sit up slowly. He ran a hand over his face, smearing tears everywhere, and you sat up with him, immediately did you cup his face as your lips found purchase anywhere and everywhere; his forehead, his eyebrows, his temples, his nose, the apples of his cheeks, his ears, his jaw, his chin... you didn't kiss his lips because it felt almost wrong when he was so torn up. You were barely holding yourself together, the guilt gnawed at you, and your jaw was aching from trying to keep from crying. The second Eddie saw you cry, he would forget all about himself, and you would not have that.

Focus on Eddie.

"Eddie, I'm sor - "

Eddie shook his head, brows creasing as he stood up, swiped another hand across his face and held the other down to you. He pulled you up to stand with him. "No more, baby. It's done, yeah? C'mere." You followed Eddie to his bedroom, the two of you done for the day as he flopped down on the bed, using his grip on you to tug you down atop him. He didn't even grunt when you landed somewhat heavily, clumsily, just wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "Don't cry, sweetheart."

Of course Eddie would notice that you were crying before you did. You smiled and said, "M'not."

"Liar." You could hear Eddie's smile. No matter what happened to him, no matter what he went through, he kept smiling, kept trying, kept making jokes, kept being Eddie, and this time your sob wouldn't let itself be stifled. You shook in Eddie's arms and he let you. He held you through it. All the guilt, the worry, came pouring out of you now that Eddie was, at the very least, no longer crying but exhausted as he came down from what he went through. You had focused on Eddie and now it was time for him to focus on you.

You, the one who never left his side. You, the one who had never given up on him, the one who made food deliveries and snuck in some smokes, not just one but two packs of beer, you, who made flash cards for Eddie decorated with stickers of all his favourite bands so that he had a reason to smile while he worked towards the finish line. You, the one who fell asleep on the phone while he played Master of Puppets for the gazillionth time so you could point out any chords which didn't ring true to you - four ears were always better than two. You, who did everything you could to love Eddie as hard as you could, no matter what mood either of you were in.

You.

The absolute love of Eddie's life.

And he was the love of yours.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson

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zukkaoru · 16 days

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Grace hear me out here: Beast Chuuran

YES. i'm listening so hard

bcs see. this can work either pre/during canon or post-canon. ranpo doesn't really seem like the kind of guy to be torn apart by guilt bc they're dating a mafia executive so like. idk he and chuuya meet by chance at some point and ranpo's like "this guy could crush me. i need him so bad." and then they have this like enemies w benefits thing going on until they realize oops maybe i like you a little bit more than originally anticipated--

ORRRR post-canon with pm boss chuuya x pillar of the ada ranpo. enemies with benefits except oh no i actually do care about you. oh no i think i would do anything to save you. oh no i'm bleeding out and your place is close by and i didn't know where else to go--

or to be even more self indulgent, chuuya isn't pm boss and also just sort of disappears from the mafia after beast, and ranpo ends up finding them (either on purpose or on accident) and chuuya is like. wow. this guy is the most annoying human i've met in my entire life. but ranpo is a pro at annoying people until they have no choice but to be his friend so ofc chuuya ends up hanging around him a lot more than intended and they end up getting closer because of it

+ angst edition: after the events of beast chuuya comes to ranpo for a distraction and ranpo's like "listen i don't think you're in the right headspace for this rn,," but because chuuya is in a very bad headspace, he lashes out and they get into an argument that ultimately ends with them breaking up (as much as you can break up with your enemy-with-benefits who you maybe care about a lot more than you should) and then this makes hostility between the mafia and ada worse bc new pm boss chuuya seems to have it out for the agency's lynchpin and no one knows why......

#THINKING SO MANY THOUGHTS #you could do SO MUCH with beast chuuran ouhggggg !!!!!#chuuran #bsd #bsd beast #chuuya nakahara #ranpo edogawa #anon asks #asks

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twinsoftriumph · 10 months

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Do you have any hc for the twins ? Regular or angst ones ?

oh man yes ABSOLUTELY. before i go on though a few Disclaimers. some of these have been alluded to in asks before so there might be a bit of repetition in that regard. and also some will be theory related and moreso going off the assumption that certain extra material is not necessarily Canon in game. also i go into more Individual headcanons later in the post. i won't go into EVERYTHING but this gets long regardless. headcanons below the cut!

concept art related stuff

i've probably brought this up at least 3 other times but it drives me a little crazy that in the concept art timeline, the TWINS are the ones present at the king's coronation ceremony. this pic sucks but it's the only one

this is the first thing that made me believe the twins would have sided with the king in the whole dark stone/light creature conflict

concept art says "The Twins used to lead ceremonial spectacle that honored the King's victories in the Dark Stone Era" which is self explanatory

it ALSO says "Amphitheater was original site of King's coronation" as well as stuff about being free from fire worship and using dark stone for defense.

another reason is valley itself being a city of entertainment even before we got dreams and performance. i'm not saying this was All there was to valley as it seems genuinely culturally rich, but it gives a very Bread And Circuses vibe (superficial distractions from serious problems)

not to mention valley having darkstone contraptions Everywhere.

and who better to lead this than two energetic entertaining athletes?

since they were labeled the "priestess" ancestor in concept art, i think that could very much relate back to the king coronation ceremony. i can see them holding religious ceremonies in the fire era or very important kingdom-wide events (and i'd go as far as to say the king's coronation is religious in its own way due to the godlike powers granted by darkstone)

but on a less dramatic note, i also like to imagine it meant they were in touch with the emotions of their people in valley, offering advice and listening to their troubles Like a priestess would

more personal hc stuff

of course i think there is a genuine significant degree of sibling rivalry, but i ALSO think they play it up for the entertainment aspect. everything in the public eye is a big performance to them

the Sibling Rivalry is a little more complicated than that though due to my belief that they split into two upon falling to the sky kingdom and at times have such insane synergy that you'd think they're the same person because in a way. they Are (i talked about this in an in-character ask once)

but anyway i think they are very smart and aware of how they present themselves to other people and of their influence

they know how to get people energized/riled up regardless of whether they're the ones competing or not. GREAT commentators who can project their voice and capture everyone's attention with incredible persuasion and dynamism

do i think they flirt with the crowd? yes.

due to them representing young adulthood, i think they have a lot of internal contradictions and conflicts that they have a hard time working through

they can absolutely be arrogant and Not in a fun way. they want to feel justified in their convictions especially when it comes to siding with the king so strongly. so basically they doubt themselves but if you doubt them you'll probably just piss them off

they feel their emotions strongly but also have an incredibly logical aspect to their emotions and will get irritated at themselves for "irrational" emotions

they care A Lot to the point of trying to distance and distract themselves from caring, especially when shit is going down in the dark stone era

they love the attention but very much value their time out of the spotlight and even away from each other.

i like imagining that valley has Fights For Entertainment (not like any sort of gladiator to-the-death thing). they'll fight each other once in a while for a crowd but their sparring in private is very different

i think they have petty squabbles over small things but private sparring is letting off steam and being open to genuine criticism. by which i mean they are there to stay sharp and help each other by pointing out weaknesses

there's no aspect of entertaining an audience but it still flows like a dance. it is, however, more... ruthless? no intentionally slipping up for drama or dragging things out or interacting with the crowd

the nicks/cracks in their masks are from each other. i also did an in-character ask for this (i hate how it turned out lmao) but i think the idea i prefer now is that they had an Incredibly rocky time orienting themselves as a split star and dealing with their identity. i dunno maybe they tried to kill each other at one point. just sibling things

at the end of the day they are ride or die

they have adhd. To Me. (<- has adhd)

individual headcanons

they have similarly androgynous voices but there are some distinctions which i am Not sure how to describe. i imagine sah to have a clearer voice that sounds more playful/teasing with a bit of an Edge. for mekh i imagine a more theatrical, regal quality with maybe a sort of... smoothness to it? (this part is especially influenced by how they carry themselves in their cutscene)

sah tends to skirt around what they mean, mekh is more blunt

mekh is slightly taller. don't bring this fact up around the twins

when it comes to theatrical productions, i think it's funny to imagine sah being invested in like. the romance and comedy like Oh my god they were roommates and for mekh to be like YEAHH RIP EACH OTHER'S HEADS OFF and very into the drama

sah roasts a mean dark crab

mekh goes to the counter and says They asked for no pickles (yes i already drew this yes im saying it again)

with other elders

i will quickly reiterate and elaborate on some stuff i've stated before

daleth: noble and gentle, always seems to understand the bigger picture. the twins clashed a lot with them in the dark stone era and treated them rather flippantly, which they regret later on as daleth gave them very important guidance when they were trying to figure out their identity. daleth eventually reached a point where they felt the twins were too out of reach amidst their glory, and interactions were resigned on daleth's part and curt on the twins'

ayin: always hopeful and kind towards the twins, but ultimately they could not truly understand each other. ayin wished to be closer to them and also helped them in designing the valley's architecture. again, with how close ayin was to the light creatures, the twins became rather standoffish and especially defensive in believing dark stone was absolutely necessary to the livelihood of their realm

teth: someone they could connect with emotionally. they had a quiet understanding of each other's feelings of self-contradiction, and teth was not one to demand conversation or vulnerability. teth was, however, someone who would not back down from an argument, so they were more prone to Heated Verbal Disagreements even if they were relatively friendlier. neither are sure they can trust the other's impulses

tsadi: trained with the twins and became protective over them at some point, maintaining a friendly and mutual relationship a decent way into the dark stone era. both feel a great deal of loyalty towards the king, believing themselves to be standing for the good of the ancestors. things eventually sour between them as conditions in now-wasteland degrade, but tsadi blames themself far more for everything that happened than literally any of the elders

lamed: very mixed feelings. lamed recognizes their sheer influence and skill but still finds them to be too impulsive. the twins really are not that shallow or oblivious to lamed's opinions, but lamed is the Genius of geniuses and can come off as condescending or above-it-all even without intending to. stiff in the face of lamed's occasional sentimentality

ok im just gonna. stop myself here because i think my brain is melting from Samekh Thoughts but um. if you made it this far congrats! i hope this was enjoyable to read!

#ask #this is.... so long. oops #i know i didnt go that much into them as individuals but i just have So much to say about them in relation to others #headcanons #sol talks #ooc #thatskygame #sky cotl #sky: children of the light #valley elders #samekh

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chaoffee · 1 year

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The red string and the stars

Characters: Venti x gn reader (but reader is only mentioned, this mostly focused on Venti)

Genre: Would this be somewhat considered angst...? Probably not, but idk what to label this as

AU: canon au with red string of fate added to it

Warnings: Might be out of character

Notes: I don't know if I should make like a part 2 of this or make versions of the other archons 🤔 maybe I should go for both...oh well, honestly didn't know what to post and this was the only fanfic writing I had fully finished in months. Said fuck it and now I'm posting this lol May it be 👌👌

°•—

What if the archons didn't have a soulmate attached at the other end of the red string? What if they were doomed to never experience eternal love like the mortals that roam the lands they govern?

Venti would often find himself staring at the red string tied around his pinky. Unlike everyone else who isn't cursed with immortality like him, he doesn't have such a thing such as a soulmate. His string doesn't connect to anyone or anything at all. It's only there to mock him and his faint desires of being loved in ways that only a soulmate could satiate.

When Venti had first found out about this red string of fate that connects you to your soulmate, he was but an elemental being, listening to an old friends stories. He remembers his friend telling him his hopes of finding his soulmate outside of the wall that held everyone inside of it. Elemental Venti back then wanted nothing more but to see his friend with his soulmate, happy and outside of the wall. That hope quickly died after the war against Decarabian.

When Venti had become the god of freedom that fateful day, he had seen that he too had a string latched at his pinky much like his friend's. Not long after did Venti realize that there is no such thing as a soulmate for a god. At first he had mourned his loss of never having the love that his people had but after some years he had grown to accept this fact. It didn't stop him from singing or writing about lost love that was never meant to be.

Venti had met with other gods and they too had said that gods never have soulmates and if it were to happen it would be rare. Though none of the other gods seemed to care much of this loss. They have been living much longer than he has but you'd still think that they'd crave something such as love even if they don't want to admit to it.

Venti was brought back to the present with Diluc handing him a glass of dandelion wine. Venti looked up at Diluc weirdly. Diluc sighed, "Don't look at me like that. It's not strange for me to be generous every once in a while."

Venti gasped dramatically, "Master Diluc being generous with his delectable wine? Who are you and what did you do to the true Master Diluc?"

Diluc rolled his eyes at Venti's dramatics. I suppose being a bard has its love for dramatics engraved into a permanent grip on your personality and reactions. "Maybe I'll stop being generous and add that drink to the long bill you owe the tavern."

Venti makes a zipping motion with his fingers of his mouth, a teasing smile staying behind once the motion was done. Diluc shakes his head at the archon of Mondstadt. At least he never questions why Mondstadt was the city of freedom and wine. Their archon sure loved both things...more the wine though.

"So, what got you all wrapped up in your head? It's rare to see you staring off into space when there's tons of wine to drink." Diluc asks, hoping his tone didn't come out harsher than it should've with the second part.

Venti struck a thinking pose, "I suppose I can share with you, Master Diluc. It's always good to have another's thought added to your own."

Diluc prepared himself for whatever Venti could possibly say next. Venti was a hard character to read. You never truly know what he thinks or what he's going to say next. It's always a surprise with him.

"What do you say about a wine made from milk?" Diluc took a moment to ponder the words and the question. Milk...in wine? That's an absurd idea! Milk would only make the wine taste weird...or would it? Diluc racks his brain for an alcoholic beverage that contains milk as an ingredient. He lists some of the alcoholic beverages he knows of in his head and what they contain.

Venti leaned his head onto his palm as he watches the cogs in Diluc's brain turn at the mere question. The sight made him smile. It was rare to see Master Diluc so perplexed about something that you can't help but savor it when it occurs.

To be fair, Venti wasn't thinking about a wine made from milk but he'd rather not divulge into his thoughts of the red string. After a while, his thoughts turned to you. He wondered if you had a soulmate and if your string was connected to anyone else's. Perhaps a topic for a future conversation with you when he sees you again.

Venti finished the last bit of the dandelion wine that Diluc had given him before standing up. He stretched his arms above his head and sighed contently. "Goodnight Master Diluc, don't go thinking to hard about that milky wine~" Venti calls out as he turns to leave. He didn't give Diluc much time to say goodnight back, having been at the door and out when Diluc opened his mouth to say it.

A gentle breeze ruffled his hair as he walked through the city. Everyone had gone home after a long day of work and if they weren't home, you could always hear them in the taverns singing along to a bard's song. It was peaceful this time of the evening. Why Venti loved taking strolls through the city after a few drinks(or bottles) at Angel's Share at night.

He wondered what you were up to. Where your adventures had led you for the day. Whether you were sleeping soundly underneath a roof or under the vast, open sky. Venti looked up at the sky, watched as the stars slowly inched in the sky with each second. The stars were always so dull to look at. You had told him of worlds where the stars shone brighter and more clearly. When he looked at you in that moment, he could see the look of longing you had as you watched the stars of Teyvat.

Your story about the brightly shinging stars that never seemed to dull had sparked a desire to see those starry skies you had seen countless times before. When he closed his eyes he could almost picture how the sky looked. He longed for a memory where he could watch a brightly lit sky full of vivid stars with you.

Much to soon did the longing turn into a dull ache in his heart. Venti sighed, once more looking at the red string attached to nothing else but his pinky. If only you were from this world or planned to make this world your home, perhaps he could find it in himself to ask if you'd be willing to be his until the world resets itself again. But alas, all beautiful fantasies come to a bitter end when reality decides to rear its ugly head.

For now, Venti is content with keeping the embers of his desires a secret to all but him and the lonely red string around his pinky.

#genshin #genshin imapct #genshin x gn reader #venti the bard #genshin impact venti #venti x reader #venti x gn!reader #chaoffee fics

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sinisterexaggerator · 1 year

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Headcanon...?

Spoilers for a fic I will write eventually?

Do not read if you do not like made-up, author-indulgent backstories for characters who exist in the GFFA. This one is almost hard to post because it's kind of personal. Like, a story so plot driven that I am nervous people will hate my interpretation and my ships. Oh well, I guess, it's happening.

A discussion in the Duros hoes chat, and then between me and @allsystemsblue, got me thinking about what is Cad Bane's real name? It sure as hell ain't Cad Bane. A lot of the fandom seems to agree on that. "Cad" and "bane" are both words in the dictionary that can be defined.

Cad: a man who behaves dishonorably, especially toward a woman. / scoundrel / rogue / rascal.

Bane: a cause of great distress or annoyance. / scourge / ruin / death.

We shall come back to this.

I have a scene mapped out for Stars Above in which I want Cad to run into his sister. I have a plan for his backstory that does not include this particular fanfic, but another, a series I am working on that will be entitled "Annuals of an Outlaw," and is essentially a collection of works I have outlined that will contain my version of Cad Bane's "story" from his beginnings on Duro in the Descent Ghetto, to after the Clone Wars and beyond.

Yes, it will have smut. And angst. Lots and lots of angst. Many character will appear, including Jango, Hondo, Aurra, Bossk, Embo, Zam, Dengar, Todo 360, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and even Boba at some point. Oh, and let us not forget Shriv Suurgav. :)

Yes, Shriv.

You cannot stop me. Don't even try. This is my magnum opus, and by God it will make sense narratively. Just you wait. Or don't. I don't care. I am still going to write this thing if it's the last thing I ever do.

First of all, I enjoy playing around with Star Wars name generators. That is how I came up with the name of my OC, Zulara. I started sifting through them, piecing last names together with other first names, and voilà, a new name appeared to me that caught my attention.

Originally, I was looking for Durese words that maybe meant something in relation to his occupation or personality, but none of them called out. It appears others had that same idea in the past, so it makes sense to go with something new.

Anyway, my name for Cad Bane is Lumoon Troks.

Here are the outpouring of thoughts I had on the matter before I could stop myself. I came up with this over the last hour or two, and I am digging it so far. Who knows, maybe I will change my mind. It's helping me to fill in a lot of gaps, anyway, that I had in the plot, and I am happy about that.

So, I am giving Bane siblings. Two much older sisters, two brothers who are 1-2 years apart, and a younger sister who is four or five at the time Lumoon finally leaves home.

His siblings call him Lu, or Moon for short. When they want to be annoying, they call him Moody Moon, or "Lemon" because of his sour outlook ( lemons are "canon" in SW, I checked).

To sum things up briefly, Bane's mother was a kindhearted woman and his father was a gruff workaholic. They both were employed in the factories and rarely had time to spend with their family, but had too many mouths to feed.

Cad gets into trouble quite often. He runs wild in the streets from a young age. Maybe he hooks up with the wrong crowd. Nothing too menacing; some petty theft, vandalism, etc, etc.

His father's angry about it. He refuses to take on work in the factories with him. He wants more for himself. He's not about that grind day in, day out life. Things get so toxic between them that he leaves to make his own way, stops coming home, worries his mother sick, and his little sister to boot.

So much so, his little sister ( talking maybe preschool / kindergartener age ) decides she has to "bring Moon home" and takes it upon herself to find him. She loves her big brother and sorely misses him.

This does not end well. At all. The worst possible scenario unfolds. The first of many tragedies in Cad Bane's life. It deeply affects him. He tries to go to his mother; she isn't the same Duros any longer. She coldshoulders him, ignores him, and she suffers from a broken heart.

Cad blames himself. "She went out to find you and never came home." This time, he really does leave and never returns. I am sure there is a final fight between him and his father that maybe seals the deal. He takes up random jobs, anything that pays, from sex work, to being hired muscle, to thieving, to murder, you name it, as long as the pay is good and it keeps his mind off his own problems.

He learns skills along the way, and he also learns from his mistakes. Things start being a little too easy. He's tired of being bossed around. He wants to be his own boss. So, that's exactly what he becomes.

He decides to try his hand at bounty hunting. He begins to make a name for himself, except, he hasn't. He needs a new one, something intimidating, striking, and rememberable. Plus, he doesn't want his birthname floating around; that makes him vulnerable, as well as the rest of his surviving kin.

Bane's mother, in the early days of his youth, used to scold him for misbehaving. She called him the equivalent of a cad in Durese, and it translated that way from basic, something along the lines of "Lumoon! Quit being such a cad, you naughty boy!"

It means something to him. He feels it embodies what he has become. It is also a tribute to his mother as well as a punishment; something he has to live with and that he brought upon himself.

The next thing you know, one of his many enemies makes a snarky comment, saying to him, "you are the bane of my existence," or simply, "you are a bane!" From there, his new name takes shape in his mind. He thinks if you put two and two together, it sounds kind of nice. It sticks. He starts to introduce himself like that, when before he had only referred to himself as Cad.

Another misfortune befalls him, which I mentioned I wanted him to run into his sister. This would happen off-world somewhere, years later, and during the reign of the Galactic Empire. She would say something to the likes of: "Mom died. She never gave up on you. She waited for you to come home, everyday. I didn't have the heart to tell her I had seen your wanted posters."

It tears him apart for awhile. His second great tragedy. Never getting to reconcile with the Duros who raised him and whom he loved. He harbors this for the rest of his life.

Of course, running in the streets, he learns not to trust people. He's jaded. He gets fucked over a time or two, badly, and by people he thinks he can trust. He develops a shell; a way of looking at the world that allows him to keep his guard up for his own protection.

In that same vein, I believe Bane can love and that he can love hard given the right circumstances. One of the many reasons he's kept from saying it, is because every person he has ever cared about has either turned on him or dies. The galaxy is a harsh mistress. He's afraid of a repeat scenario; he doesn't let himself get close. He tells himself he's better off alone, doesn't need anybody; he prefers to run without a pack.

That is, until he meets Jango.

And, that, my friends, is a whole other story, but I want to add that Cad Bane has bad dreams. Nightmares, even. Visions. Terrible things happen, old memories replay, he is haunted by his past. The sister he couldn't save; the mother he thought had stopped loving him; the father he was never good enough to please.

Hondo compares himself to a sun, and Bane is the moon. This would fuck with him psychologically, and cause him to react unexpectantly should the nickname stick - one that is reminiscent of his childhood. It is Hondo Ohnaka in my story that saves Bane from himself after Fett meets his untimely end.

Jango, Hondo, and Shriv may call him moody from time-to-time, or grumpy, but that also does not sit well, either, considering his past.

Once Jango dies, and once he fails at training Boba, Cad is even more a wreck than before. In my story, he also does not get to reconcile with his old partner and mentor after their falling out. He drinks himself stupid in the presence of Boba to the point the boy gets fed-up and they have their duel.

Bane, in my mind, can't accept Boba as Fett's son; he is a clone; he could never accept the clone contract from the get go - it put a rift in their relationship. This adds more fuel to the "look out for yourself" fire that is his quote in the Book of Boba Fett.

Sorry this got so long-winded, but, I had to get that out as it came to me. Now, to actually write the story all these ideas are for!

#Star Wars #Cad Bane #Hondo Ohnaka #Shriv Suurgav #fictional backstories #headcanon #self-indulgent af

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hushed-chorus · 8 months

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Trope Grading Game (instead of WIP Wednesday)

Hey folks, and thank you for the tags on Sunday @fatalfangirl @thewholelemon @theearlgreymage @orange-peony @artsyunderstudy @wellbelesbian and @youarenevertooold, and to @cosmicalart for the tag today (thank you for joining us!)

I’m having a slow morning, so when @aristocratic-otter tagged me in this game, I figured it could be a good way to try to ease myself into some writing. So consider this in lieu of my WIP post!

Honestly this was an interesting one to fill out, because I rarely seek out specific romance tropes. I’m always looking for the circumstances that lie beneath. The setting and plotty plot that the tropes are part of. Also, I’ve realised I’m very ignorant about romance tropes, so I may be misreading some of these xD

Also, most of this is answered in a Snowbaz context, given that’s my only fandom.

Rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic?

-10 -> very dissuaded

0 - don’t care either way

+10 -> very enticed

nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged

Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional.

Age gap: -5

Broadly, no. Anyone younger than 22 in a relationship with someone significantly older is something I avoid. That being said, my all-time favourite cishet romance is Hazel and Agnes in S1 of The Umbrella Academy. I’ve never wanted a cishet Happily Ever After so much in my whole life lol.

Codependency: +4

Broadly, yes. I enjoy fics that unpick the ways in which a couple are entangled and how that creates challenges, as well as how they may be resolved. I guess in a snowbaz context this often also means fluff, and tbh fluff isn’t my thing unless it’s at the end of a fic full of challenges that they have overcome.

Obsession/Possessiveness, jealousy: +5

Outside of Snowbaz, not really. Within Snowbaz (and thus informed by its canon), yes. Especially when Simon is being an oblivious dufus and Baz is pining.

Opposites (grumpy/sunshine etc): +7

Erm yes, I probably like this more than I previously realised lol. Like, as long as this isn’t the defining characteristic of the two characters, I can really get into it. I love Snowbaz fics that show a playful side to Simon.

Enemies to lovers, Enemies with benefits: +10

Abso-fucking-lutely. Obviously. Hot, lots of strong feelings, tension, angst, yes yes yes.

Friends with benefits: -2

If it’s sex with neither romance nor part of an enemies-to-lovers storyline, I’m not really interested. I’m a romantic at heart.

Sex to feelings: +5

Reasonably neutral as a baseline concept, but this can totally be done very well. It depends on the set dressing that goes with it. Is there conflict? Confusion over said feelings? Something keeping them apart? I love that shit.

Fake dating/relationship: 0

I’ve read good fics that use this concept, but the concept itself doesn’t excite me, so I don’t specifically seek it out.

Friends to lovers: 0

I like enemies to friends to lovers, but I like fics that have tension and uncertainty. Friends with benefits can certainly have that, but for me its not guaranteed to scratch that itch.

Found Family: -3

I’ve not read any found family in fanfiction, but I’ve not enjoyed it in original fiction. It too often casts found family as a cure to a person’s baggage and past trauma, or just flat-out handles these topics in a way I find deeply uncomfortable (coughthehouseintheceruleanseacough)

Hurt/Comfort: +9

Oh yes yes yes. This is my jam. I like it best, however, when it’s part of a larger fic with other things going on (especially as part of a slow burn).

Love Triangle: 0

I don’t mind it, but it doesn’t appeal in the context of snowbaz. I have a slight aversion to fics where Lamb is part of the love triangle. No shade on anyone who writes that, he is a good canon character to place in that role, but it doesn’t align with my personal HC for Lamb.

Poly, open relationships: -5

I guess I’m way too monoamorous for this. Clone smut, however…

Mistaken/hidden identity: +10

OMG. Ok so so this is where I probably stray from the point (lol), because I love this in a very specific context. Do we count Baz hiding the fact he’s a vampire in this? Because I LOVE stories where the character has something strange/supernatural about themselves that they are trying to hide, or that they may not even know about themselves in the beginning. And I could see enjoying this in a non-supernatural context (I just love fantasy elements a lot). Outside of Baz being a vampire, I don’t know if this is done much in the Carry On fandom? If anyone has any recs, I’d very much welcome them!

Monsterfucking: +6

As you’ve probably gathered from previous responses, I’m not a big smut person. But I gotta admit, I do like a bit of monsterfucking.

Pregnancy: +4

For someone with zero interest in having kids, I do enjoy a good mpreg fic. Especially when it’s unexpected and the pregnant character is riddled with doubt and uncertainty, leading to some hurt/comfort and angst with a happy ending.

Second Chance: +2

Hmm. I'm neutral on breaking up and getting back together fics, but getting together later fics can be interesting. But, again (fuck this is my mantra), I’m mostly interested in the surrounding circumstances. What is the canon divergence that kept them apart? This is what will snag my interest.

Slowburn: +10

Yes! I LOVE a long plotty fic with slow burn and all that deliciousness.

Soulmates: +8

As long as that baby has some angst/uncertainty/misunderstandings, I am all over that shit.

Right! Now I’m off to see if I can make any meaningful progress on my shipwreck COTTA. Happy Wednesday y’all! I won't tag anyone else but if anyone wants to play, please consider this an invite!

#not wip wednesday #tag game #simon snow #this starts out looking like I don't like any tropes lol #my personal favourites are towards the end

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magnoliabutters · 1 year

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• AS THE WORLD BURNS •

pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader

summary: the consequences of love are not always easy...

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; canon divergence, season 4 spoilers, violence (vecna level), gore (blood), choking, angst/hate, near death scenarios, toxic/anti-hero relationship, y/n count: 1, etc.

word count: ~9.2k

reblogs, comments, & thoughts are so so shmo appreciated

• stories of eddie munson series • season two • previous part •

note: herro! it feels so good to post again! lots to unpack in this part and its quite long! i apologize if its a bit confusing with referring to some memories. as always, feel free to share your thoughts or ask any questions you may have! i did want to share that my characterization of vecna is probably on another level and die hard v-daddy fans may not enjoy this version - fair warning. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy!

Screams. Screams gargle out of your throat before you even notice. Your heart beats heavily within your chest. The pain shoots up your thigh and into your stomach, as well as down your entire right leg. Your hands push against his head fiercely. You are desperate to rip his teeth off your thigh. You feel his mouth latch harder onto your skin, causing a screech to escape your lips. The blood slowly trickles down your leg, an uncomfortable and nerve-wracking feeling. You scream, “Kas,” as you struggle against him.

Your head shoots up, looking for something to help you - anything. You reach up to grab a baluster off the staircase. You pull as hard as you can in hopes of ripping it off the handrail. With eyes desperately searching for a weapon, your gaze falls upon Vecna. A sickening smile before you. His eyes completely fixated on Kas and his heavy bite against your thigh. Your stomach drops as you stare into the burned pile of flesh before you. He is enjoying this. It disgusts you. Anger slowly fills your body as you struggle against holding the wood above you.

With a yell, you release all your undeniable anger. Your body tensing. Your muscles firm. You rip the baluster out from the stairs and drop it heavily against the back of Kas’ head. He shuffles back on his knees. A hand quickly pressing against the mark you made on his cranium. The blunt weapon falls from your hands as he releases his grasp on your thighs.

His eyes slowly raise to you. Those brown chocolate eyes now indiscernible. Red replaces his honey - his sweetness, his innocence. Another stab in the chest, reminding you that Eddie is no longer. You hope he found peace, and that you will see him soon.

“You bitch,” Kas hisses out. “Fuck you,” you mutter with heavy annunciation on the f. Fueled with anger and pointing towards Vecna, you add, “Funny you’re calling me the bitch when you’re so clearly his. You’re a fucking puppet and a fucking disgrace to Eddie.” He stands up, a finger to your face, as his nostrils flare.

His quick movements scare you as you wince in his presence. He steps forward in your space. You try to hold your ground, but you step back defensively. “Watch your mouth,” he demands. “Why? Aren’t you about to kill me? I’m going to do whatever the hell I want to do with my last moments,” you scream back. The anger now rings true throughout your body as you take a step forward.

Kas steps back, sucking his tongue to his teeth as a slow smirk appears on his right side. “You have no control here,” he says calmly. Your eyes squint with rage. “You don’t get to decide whether or not you speak before you die. I could just as easily bite off your tongue or rip away a chunk of your cheek,” he lists off as he runs a finger down your cheek bone. You pull away sharply, only making him smile more. “I’d like to see you try to speak then.” You breathe out heavily through your nostrils as you struggle to keep your body from shaking. You refuse to let him see the fear he causes within you.

“Oh, and one more thing, darlin’,” he states. His index finger and thumb squeezing your chin as he pulls your attention back on him. You struggle to pull away, pain radiating across your jaw, but he holds you right where he wants you. “Eddie was the fucking disgrace. Everything he did and everyone he loved led to him being left to die on that floor,” he continues with a laugh. He takes another step forward, only a mere inch or two away from your face. “What disgrace? You couldn’t even save him. Where were you, huh?” he taunts. “Where were you when he was dying on that slab of concrete? Where were you when he was calling out for you, desperate to have you sit by his side as he left this world? Where were you when he was screaming your name-”

You slap him, hard, before you even knew it. The burning on your palm fuels the hate you feel so deeply within your heart. Kas is stunned before you. His hand retreating as it applies pressure against his face. Shock courses through your mind that he was seemingly bothered. You can barely see out of the tears piling within your eyes, but a part of you worries if you went too far. That very same part replays the unforgivable words spoken, and you are reminded of your hate.

“You disgusting bastard,” you mutter. “Why does it bother you SO much when I talk about him? Is it the constant reminder that, even though he’s gone, he is and always will be a better man than you? Is it because you know the love we had and how you’ll never have it?” A smirk suddenly falls upon your face. Your own eyes turning red, if they could. “Or is it because you know how much better he is at fucking me? That I faked it-“

Kas’ hand immediately rushes to your throat. You gasp, letting out your final breath. The pain is excruciating, but completely worth it. You give him a deep smile as you watch the anger flow into his eyes. “Do you ever stop talking?” he spits out through gritted teeth. “Fuck you, Munson,” you grumble out, twisting the knife in his side. He squeezes harder in retaliation and you immediately feel faint. You choke, heavily. Fear in your eyes as you feel the blood halting at your neck, disconnecting from your brain.

You are going to die, but you already knew that. You haven’t said everything you needed to say. One last love note to beautiful Eddie before you see him again.

And almost like a switch, Kas’ eyes widen at your reddened and horrified face. He pulls back his hand violently. You immediately collapse to your knees, choking out heaving breaths as your finger nails dig into the hardwood floor.

Kas steps back, a traumatized look to his face. Never once has he felt regret. Never once has he experienced the fear that spreads like wildfire in his victims’ eyes. And he did this to YOU. The one person in this world that he doesn’t hate with every fiber of his being. Your words stung, hurt like a mother fucker, but he knew they were just words. He loves you, but you make him so angry. And he feels everything so deeply now - now that he knows. He regrets it. He regrets hurting you like that, despite having every intention to kill you at that very moment.

“Kas, what did I say about playing with your food?” Vecna asks amusingly. His voice careless, as though he has better things to do. It pulls Kas out of his thoughts, which was his intention. You shoot your head towards him, giving him the deadliest stare you could muster. “I am not food, you fucked up burnt pile of shit,” you scream. You are tired of him, tired of him enjoying your death. There is no way in hell you would be letting anyone minimize your existence, certainly not this skinless fuck.

Vecna’s eyes fall on you sharply. The muscles of his brow pulling together as his haunting stare consumes you. You gasp in response as your heart races. His hand slowly raises. With that, Kas’ face turns pale. He immediately turns to you, trying to push you out of the way, but it was too late. An invisible force floats you in the air. Your breath halts as you attempt to tremble, but you can’t even do that. Your arms are spread from your torso as your heels click together. Your eyes peer down at that horrible face, seeing nothing but absolute ruthlessness.

Kas watches a tear fall down your cheek as you struggle to grasp an understanding of what was occurring. His heart sinks as he watches you raise. He knows what happens after this. He usually enjoys the brutality, mentally taking notes, but as he watches you there, bright flashes wrack his head.

He pins his chin to his shoulder as he receives painful glints of a blonde girl. He is brought back to the living room that will never be the same again. She floats above, just as you are now. He feels the fear, the terror envelope his body. An involuntary hand hits his chest. Screams, he is screaming.

The girl he has known since the fourth grade is dying right above him, and he cannot do anything about it. She is the nicest girl, always has been. Anger, resentment, the need to have justice fills his soul. She did not deserve this. She was innocent, absolutely innocent.

Like you… you didn’t deserve this.

It did not matter how much you hurt him. How much you broke his heart. How much he despises your existence. How much regret he holds from saving your life that first night. You were innocent. He should have never brought you here. He should have left you alone. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Kas stands beside Vecna with eyes of horror. His widening gaze peering up at your body as he attempts to process the sight before him. You are conscious. Why is Vecna leaving you conscious? His eyelashes fluttering as tears well in them. What the fuck can he do? You pissed Vecna off, the god of this shithole. He is scared, horrified even. In the face of death, he suddenly realizes he can’t lose you. He won't lose you.

But he is frozen, frozen with absolute fear. Upon seeing that memory, on top of the anger, resentment, and justice, he feels fear. Vecna destroyed such a precious life so viciously. What could he do with Kas’ meaningless life? He brought him back into the world. He could surely take him out of it.

Vecna slowly walks up to you. His clawed hand almost encompassing your chest. His head tilts to the side as he watches your terrified eyes. “You are mine, little girl,” he whispers. You tremble as you struggle to bring your eyes to the deadened form below you. Your chin held up by the invisible force. Do you regret what you said? Hell no. This pile of uncured meat is the reason your entire life went upside down.

“Fuck you,” you muster.

Suddenly, you feel like your bones were lit on fire. An unbearable wound against your shin and knee. The pain is overwhelming. Enough that your body is so overloaded that you didn’t even notice you were screaming again. Screaming at the top of your lungs as you still struggle against a force holding you against nothing.

Nerve endings wrack your skull. Your body falls in and out of consciousness. You try hard to let yourself fall out of it, but HE keeps you in. You can feel him deep in your mind. His fingers wriggling within. Any control you had was surely gone. A sickening feeling you wouldn’t wish upon anyone. You truly were his, whether you wanted to be or not. You seek repulsion against the feeling of him in your veins.

Kas watches you in absolute terror. A memory come to life once again. He can see your snapped leg out of his peripherals but he desperately keeps his widening eyes on your face. He shakes. He shakes as he sees your face pale. His lips tremble. He reminds himself that he did this to you. It may not be his hands, but he put you in this situation and now he is forced to watch your execution.

“Which one next?” Vecna asks lightheartedly. He slightly turns his head towards Kas. His eyes still glued to you, but he manages to pull away. Kas notes the increased excitement in Vecna’s eyes. He despises it, but can’t look away. If he does, then he would have to look at you. However, he can’t escape your crying, your pleading, your begging ringing in his ears. The sound somehow converts into daggers at his side. It causes a worse wound than his death AND rebirth.

“Please!” you scream with a voice ripped right from your chest. Kas bites his lip as he stares at the floor. The damage to his system abundant in his face. “Just,” the word falls out of his mouth before he could stop it. Vecna turns faster than the word is spoken. “Just what?” he says slowly. He faces him now, full on. Kas could see you starting to fall unconscious from your pain in his sidelines. He is beyond thankful.

Kas takes a deep breath before drawing his glance back towards Vecna. “You need to stop,” he says. He decides that honesty, something that does not come naturally for him, is his best path ahead. “Something inside me cares for her and I-I can’t have her die like this.” His eyes fall to the ground as he inadvertently becomes vulnerable. He relinquishes his power as he slightly bows before his alpha, his “savior.”

Vecna’s human eyes fall into the depths of hell as disappointment claws across his face. “She left you for dead,” he spits out with a waver to his voice. With a quick shake to his head, he reaches his arm out, undoubtedly to break another one of your limbs. Kas catches his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He quickly looks at your resting body, ensuring he did not do anything within that fraction of a second. “She is the only thing that’s made me feel alive since you brought me back,” he musters. “You will not take her from me.”

A deep, grumbled scoff falls from Vecna’s scorched lips. He pulls harshly from Kas’ grasp, as though his touch was poisonous. Kas awkwardly places his hand back at his side, still ready for the offensive, but suddenly extremely careful with where his hands were. “You are telling me you haven’t had any fun since I brought you back?” he clarifies with a laugh. “I saw you smiling while a man’s blood fell from your lip. Your laughter now haunts the New World, as does mine.”

A wince squeezes his face as Kas shakes his head. “Killing is different from living,” he whispers. “You don’t get to decide that,” the deep and overpowering voice emerges. Vecna hasn’t used this voice since they first met. He hasn’t heard him like this since Kas last asked a question or attempted to have any semblance of autonomy. “The only way you can live is if you kill her,” he continues. “Kill her for me.”

Vecna closes the space between them, leaving Kas to shudder at his increasing voice volume. “Kill her, for me,” he says as he steps away from your unconscious body, still floating above the ground and destined for death.

A haze of a memory as you slowly open your eyelids to watch the two below. Just a few moments and you will cease to be. “I’m crazy about you, Eddie,” you whisper.

And then everything went dark.

Your cheek rests against a warm and soft surface. It is comforting, familiar. Squelches are heard from, what you assume to be, mudded ground beneath you. Normally, you would be overly curious as to where you were, where your body was headed, who you were with - but not today. You are beyond exhausted, beyond lethargic. Your mind shattered in a million pieces, accompanied by a wretched headache.

A cheek bounces off the warmth as your body sways. The taste of metal fills your mouth. You smack your lips, attempting to get the taste off your tongue. Immediately, a giggle fills the small area between where your head and hand rest against the firm skin. This peaks your interest as you slowly open your eyes, peering your chin up naturally.

You see the beloved curled locks you long for gracefully brushing against your forehead. A strong jaw line as it clenches, painfully holding back any more laughter. A quick movement of the Adam's apple as he swallows. You curl deeper into the warmness. Nuzzling deeper into his skin as a little grumble leaves your lips. Why would you ever pull away?

“God, you’re so cute,” you hear Kas’ voice echo within the space. Your mind immediately panics, wriggling your limbs about until he drops you flat onto the ground. The pain resonates through your right hip, but you quickly push the thought away and prepare yourself for his attack. You spin upon your knees and grab hold of a nearby rock, throwing it at him. Naturally, he laughs as he dodges your attempt easily. “I like you better when you’re asleep,” he mutters with a thick upper lip.

Your eyes rapidly scan the area around you. You find yourself in the woods, but recognize that Vecna’s demonic presence has not impacted the beauty of the nature around you. Were you out of Hawkins? You turn around and note a large plain of tall winded grass and a grand scene of bright light blue across the sky. Freedom. “We’re almost out,” he announces with a deep and confusing sigh. We? you question in your mind. Last you knew, he was about to kill you and now there is a “we?”

“How did we get here?” you ask, returning your determined eyes upon him. Your body remains defensive, ready to strike if deemed necessary. Kas looks to his feet, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. The top of his shoe hits against the sole of his other. His hands resting at his back, exposing his bare chest. He stands awkwardly, uncomfortably … vulnerable in front of you. Your breathing intensifies as your eyes meet his. “Last I remember, you were about to kill me,” you say quietly. Your hand slowly crawling towards the next nearby rock.

His eyes widen before you as he takes a step forward. Your body involuntarily shudders at his approach. Your grip tightening against the rock, almost painfully. “I was never going to kill you,” he replies softly. His body language retreating, as he leans heavily against the trunk of a tree. “Bullshit,” you throw out as your teeth grind. Anger reverberates throughout your body as you struggle to keep yourself calm.

Kas pushes off the tree with closed, tightened fists. “I was never going to kill you,” he enunciates. “As much as I wanted to,” he whispers under his breath. Your breathing heavies as you watch him begin to pace. “Am I supposed to thank you?” you spit out, terrified to stand from your kneel. “I wouldn’t mind a thank you,” he says sarcastically. “But I also wouldn’t mind you believing me.” You immediately laugh, following his words closely. “Believe you? You must be joking,” you huff with a lowly chuckle. “You left me to die,” you say sternly. The rage within your chest builds your courage as you stand before him.

“Left you to die? God, how dramatic are you?” he mumbles, throwing his hand up in the air. You step forward, your hands clenching. You forget the rock piercing your palm. “You left me, crying - devastated,” you yell, tears welling in your eyes. “Are you serious, y/n?” he says sternly, entering your space.

His rage boiling over, equal to your own. The way he says your name is unfamiliar, uncomfortable. “You thought I was him!” he yells. His face is so close to your own that you could note the small hints of pain within his eyes. “You said you didn’t know him,” he growls, his upper lip lifting on one side.

“I said, I didn’t know who you were,” you yell. Your frustration is as clear as a bell. You push against his ribs, giving yourself a bit more breathing room. Kas’ devilish smirk, the one you swear is plastered to his face, disappears. His body halts after taking a step or two to gain his balance. A cold rush flows from his head to his feet. You find yourself curious, almost concerned, but you quickly remind yourself of the pain he’s caused you. Your worry just as easily turns into enjoyment.

“You’re right,” he mumbles. You scoff, the words sound absolutely foreign coming from his obnoxious mouth. However, he stares at you. He stares at you blankly - with no indication of what he is thinking, what he is feeling. Your smile slowly forms into a line. “I didn’t know who you were,” you repeat softly. His eyes solemnly rake over your body until they fall upon your lips. He avoids eye contact as you continue your thought.

“I knew the man, I-,” you start to fumble on your words. “I knew who you were talking about.” For some reason, you feel the need to be truthful, to clarify his twisted idea of what occurred. “I knew you were asking if I knew Ed-” you take a sharp breath. His name hurts - a new sensation that you immediately despise. “Eddie,” you let out in a sigh. The only way the name would fall out as you exhale from the pain it causes. “But I knew you weren’t him, even in that first moment. I lied to myself, I can see that now.” You peer down at your anxious fingers as they dig into your nail beds. “I wasn’t ready to accept the truth, but I didn’t lie to you,” your voice growing more clear and confident as you end your statement.

A wave of emotions floods Kas’ brain. He can’t ignore the pain you caused. The crack in his heart that caused him to leave you in a puddle of your own tears. But can he really blame you for what you did? For thinking he might have been the man you loved. For being confused. Exactly how he is not to blame for the intense fire within his chest anytime he catches a glimpse of you.

Eddie may be dead, but there is a part of him that is fresh and beating within Kas’ chest. He loved her. Loves her? He squeezes his eyes shut as he runs his fingers through his hair. He slowly lowers into a crouch as he ponders over her words. He tries desperately to keep Vecna’s out… She did this. She left you to die.

“Now, it’s time for you to tell me the truth, Kas,” you demand with a wobbling voice. “What the hell happened back there?” He pulls his head out from his hands as he looks back up at you. You try to suppress the anxiety that presents at the bottom of your throat. “You loved him,” he whispers as he grips harshly against his chin. Any reference to Eddie also pains Kas, like acid in his mouth.

With a quick movement, Kas stands before you, straight and tall. “When you would sleep together,” he starts. Your eyes harden as your brows pull together. Upon the sight of you, Kas chuckles. “When you were actually sleeping, darlin’,” he corrects with a smirk. Your face softens as you nod in encouragement for him to continue. He looks off, behind you, almost as though he can see a picture of the scene before him.

“You would always wake him up with your snoring,” he laughs, biting his lip. “But he was grateful. It always gave him a chance to watch you. You - you looked so peaceful, you know?” His smirk transforms into a smile of remembrance as his eyes quickly pan over to you. “He loved pushing this silly strand behind your ear,” he says as he slowly reaches for your face. You instinctually pull away, but slowly allow him to touch a piece of hair dangling before your face. He places it behind your ear with a gentle finger.

“He was crazy about you,” he says softly, as though the words mean nothing. But you know better. Those words mean everything to you - to you and Eddie. Those words are gut-wrenching to hear, but you do your best not to show it, still unwilling to expose your vulnerability.

“In the cafeteria, he would watch you. Always making sure that his girl was alright,” he chuckles. “Even before you were really his.” Your face twitches in confusion as the feelings coursing through your veins continue to contradict each other. “He always watched you,” he says as he closes his eyes. “Catching glimpses of your smile in between the chaos of that room. He didn’t even know your name yet.” His face contracts, as though he is also confused. “How did he know he loved you without even knowing you?” he asks as he finally opens his eyes. Genuine curiosity fills those deadly chocolate eyes.

Brown, they’re brown - not red. Not anymore.

The silence brings your attention to your wobbling bottom lip. Your brows push together. You are sure there is a wrinkle forming between them. “He told me he was always curious about me,” you start self-consciously. You wanted to know more - to hear more, but you didn’t want to give Kas any more than you needed to.

“I remember the first time he saw you,” Kas starts with a lighthearted breath. Part of him hated this. Hated talking about the man he could never be. Another part felt happiness, an overwhelming feeling that floods through his body. It grows as he recognizes the same happiness within your eyes. Even though he is split, he must continue - for you.

“You were this nervous girl, tightening the straps to your backpack when you walked down the hallway,” he continues. He gestures a line between them as though he is mapping out the school’s halls. You watch his hands intently. “He was a junior. He knew he shouldn’t even be looking at you - fresh meat and all.” He immediately acknowledges the confusion on your face and clarifies, “Dibs go right to first year Hellfires, but you…” He chuckles with a shrug. He tsks between his cheeks as he beams into a smile. “For you, he’d break all the rules.”

Kas analyzes your reaction. Concern washes over him as he watches a tear stream down your cheek. To his surprise, a smile immediately follows. A smile that he is sure you are not even aware of, which makes it that much better. He could see why he loved you. Why he fell for you the second his eyes landed on yours. You are beautiful, despite your annoying, strong headed attitude.

“Then that night, you called him up on your birthday,” Kas adds with amusement. “He was shocked that you even managed to get his number. He was devising a plan to get yours for the past year and a half.” His eyes widen at the sound of a small giggle falling from your lips. You are still enthralled with the memory, not yet ready to fall into reality. Fall back with Kas. You wanted him. “When he finally got to talk to you, he knew,” he shares with his smile closed and pulled to the side. “I don’t know how, but he did.”

He stops speaking, leaving silence to fill the air. He watches as you slowly flow back into real life. He notes the point where your happiness dissipates. Your eyes fall upon his, leaving that visual imaginary world depicted by his words. You are reminded of where you are now, and how much you wish you could go back. Go back to that opening in the woods, to that bench. You are hesitant of the memories he has shared, of their purpose. But above all, you are grateful.

“Thank you,” you whisper as you nod, looking everywhere but his eyes. “You’re welcome,” he responds with a hint of confusion.

After a brief interlude of awkward silence, you say softly, “Kas, can you please tell me how we got here?” You take a step to approach him and his tree. He straightens up, hopeful of you closing the distance between your bodies. Finally, your eyes scan his chest and note the many pink scratches across his skin. Taking another step, you slip upon a branch. Your weight shifts quickly and you feel a soul-crushing pain exude up your right leg. The pain brings along the memory of you floating in front of your two killers.

In a panic, you immediately look down to note that your leg is fine, and that you, too, have a pink scratch against the side of your shin. “What did you do to me?” you scream as fight or flight ensues. You squeeze your eyes closed, begging for your memories to share some insight into what happened to you - desperate not to depend on just Kas’ recollection.

Kas stands with eyes to the ground once more. You begin to notice this guilty tell of his. “You don’t need to remember that. You should just go - go now,” he encourages. His palms towards you as he approaches, turns you around, and attempts to walk you out of the woods. “No!” you exclaim as you pry his hands off of you. His solemn face drops as he realizes there is no getting out of this.

“Tell me what the hell happened, Kas! Now,” you demand as you point to the ground with a stomp. Your entire body fuming as you struggle to find peace with what you have learned. “Okay,” he says calmly. “But promise me, after I do, you’ll leave this place.” You take a deep breath, biting your lip as you watch him with fury. After he tells you what happened, you would have no reason to stay here. To stay in this fucked up version of Hawkins. You would finally be free from this never-ending shit show. Finally, you would be free to grieve. To mourn.

“I promise.”

“Kill her, for me,” Vecna booms with excitement in his eyes. Kas could not help but notice the odd interest he had in him. Almost as though every interaction was an experiment meant to be further analyzed and studied. Usually, the words ring true in his mind anytime Vecna speaks. But this time, the words were rotten. They were impossible to follow. An impenetrable idea in his heart and in his mind that the girl before him cannot die. And most definitely not by his own hands.

Kas has never disobeyed an order. He killed as easily and as quickly as the words fell from Vecna’s mouth. He did it without regret, without remorse. He killed with laughter, enjoyment. Just as Vecna taught him. He particularly enjoyed the fellow students who recognized his former self. Each one assumed that he would help them, save them. Yet, they all called him a freak, a satanist, a murderer. They were right about two of those things anyway, and he made sure to prove it to them with their slow deaths.

But now, he is stuck - desperate for a way out. Unsure of the safest path forward. The path that will bring you to the sanctuary you deserve. He caused your pain, the least he could do was get you out of it. His eyes travel from the horrific sight before him to Vecna’s melted flesh. A twinge of pain in his brow as he attempts to gather the words. Naively hoping that maybe, just maybe, Vecna will understand and let you go.

Before he can do anything, Kas hears a simple whisper fall from your mouth. A whisper so sweet, so soft that it sounded like it came straight from the heavens above. And with those words, the words you thought would be your last - “I’m crazy about you, Eddie,” his heart filled with undeniable love.

A flash of your smile floods his mind. Laughter that he would be lucky to listen to for the rest of his life. A moan so sexy and daunting that he had to hear more. Another flash and he stumbles back, almost in pain. Hands rushing to his head as he presses the base of his palms against his brow bone. He is transported back in time. Back to you...

“Hey, don’t forget the popcorn, babe,” he says while munching on the last kernel. What appears to be an action movie blasts loudly across the screen. Kas recognizes the space - it’s HIS trailer. He looks to his right and lands on your beautiful smile. He almost doesn’t notice that you were wearing his t-shirt, strawberry printed panties, and fuzzy long socks bundled at your ankles. You jump over to him in excitement. The popcorn nearly falling out of the bowl.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you say with increasing volume. Your hand rests lightly upon his chest as your other hand gestures towards the tv. Your eyes are on the movie, but his are glued to you. “This is my favorite part,” you gleam as you softly pat his chest. “I’ll be back,” you imitate in a low-toned and thick accent.

This was the moment. The moment he knew, without a doubt, that he loved you. From that moment forward, he had every intention of making you his life partner - his wife. He had met his soulmate and he was beyond thankful, knowing that not everyone is as lucky as he.

“I’m crazy about you, girl,” he whispers as he pushes back that familiar strand of hair that always falls in front of your face. Your smile grows as crimson rises to your cheeks. Your chin pins to your chest as you express a sweet mix of appreciation and embarrassment.

“Oh, my love,” you whisper as you cup your hand to his cheek. He could feel your warmth. He leans into it. In this simple embrace, you have given him everything he has ever wanted. “I’m crazy about you, Eddie.” He rushes into the kiss, almost as though you may disappear before his very eyes. His hands grip tight around your waist and lower back, determined to never let you go as long as you wanted him. He loved you from the day he saw you, but this was the day he knew you loved him back.

Kas winces, pulling out of the memory as he stumbles a few steps back. An ambiguous streak of concern riddles Vecna’s face. Save her, a familiar voice rings clear through Kas’ mind. Vecna immediately replies, “No, you must kill her. Kill her for me.” Kas could not even comprehend that Vecna was answering his thoughts. His heart shreds, splitting in two as he struggles to find solid ground. Save her, the voice enunciates once more.

His eyes flick up towards Vecna. Eyes glowing red as they stare into the soulless being. A subtle shock is depicted upon Vecna’s face in response to Kas’ physical defiance. With a quick outward throw of his hand, Kas’ energy propels Vecna out of the home and straight into the ground a few meters down. Broken wood falls everywhere. Insulation slowly seeping from the cracks.

Kas stares at this hand curiously. He did not know he was capable of such power - power comparable to his. He never needed to use it. Most definitely not when met with Vecna. With a quick glance to his incapacitation, Kas jumps towards your still floating body and wraps his arms around you. His forearm supports your neck, while his other holds your knees. He tries his best to avoid the sight of your damaged leg. It evokes a confusing and distinct feeling within that pangs his sternum.

He holds you tight against his chest, primarily for his own benefit. The warmth you exude transcending deep with his own skin, providing the comfort he desperately sought for. Before he could step out the door, Vecna gracefully lifts from the ground with ease. He lands gently before the two of you, despite the fury building within his expression.

All Kas could do was watch in horror. He has never once felt vulnerable before, and yet, here he is - with the most important being in the world within his arms - within harm’s way. With a simple firm hand, Vecna flings Kas against the living room. His back bounces off the wall as a ragged and pain-filled grunt drops from his mouth.

A vengeful force pinning his head against the peeling and painted walls. Your body left rigid and exposed across the floor. He tries so desperately to pull his crown from the wall’s surface, but the power was too strong. All he wanted was to ensure your safety.

Vecna comes into view. Those blackened eyes piercing right into Kas’ soul. “What have you done?” the low, booming voice echoes within the space. It leaves shivers down Kas’ spine. “Let us go,” he spits out through grinding teeth. Suddenly, Vecna raises his clawed hand, causing pain to electrify each and every one of Kas’ pain receptors. Open wounds spread across his chest. The oxidized air stinging the bloodied rips. A scream stills the room, a scream that only the two of them can hear.

“Us?” Vecna says with an amused tone. He pulls his hand from the traitor’s face. A displeasing taste in his mouth. A sudden shift to his voice and Vecna’s anger appears ten-fold. “You don’t even know who she is,” he whispers as he leans into Kas’ face. His eyes admiring the pained response of his clenched jaw. “I don’t,” Kas struggles to say. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that it may distract from the pain. “I don’t know you either,” he manages to let out with a gasping breath.

Vecna’s eyes harden as he stares within Kas’. A slight head tilt and the pain disappears. Kas takes in a heavy breath, still pinned forcefully against the wall. “You know me,” Vecna mutters as he turns back to your lifeless body. He wishes he could kill you right here. Snap all your bones until you were an unidentifiable pretzel. But in order to do that, he would need to make you conscious, just for the sake of enjoyment in your death. But the thought of your aggravating voice was enough to put the pleasure of torture out of his mind. “No, I know what you want from me,” Kas whispers back.

With heavied breaths and a tightened neck, Kas manages to lift his head from the wall to stare down onto Vecna’s burnt skull. A slight uptick of Vecna’s brow revealed the impressiveness he saw within Kas’ strength. Impressive, yet worrisome. A slow burning smirk and he returns his hollowed eyes back to the man before him. “And what do I want from you?” he says amusingly as he slowly returns his hand to Kas’ face.

Kas immediately makes eye contact with the daggered fingers. His heart racing as he takes a loaded breath in through his nostrils. He returns his eyes towards Vecna’s, courage pouring from his irises. “You want a lieutenant. Someone to lead your armies,” Kas spits out with disgust. “You want someone to stand beside you as the world burns.” A bellowing laugh erupts from Vecna’s chest as the hand carelessly falls from Kas’ cheek. “I don’t need someone to lead,” he laughs effortlessly. The words falling without care. “I can lead.”

Twisting his head, Vecna pushes in closer to Kas’ face. Kas still manages to hold his head a mere inch away from the wall, but nothing more and nothing less. Only what Vecna allows. “Then why did you bring me back?” Kas hisses. His nostrils flare as he stares down his lifted chin. He desperately holds on to any autonomy he can get.

“I need a partner,” Vecna answers softly. The bit of disdain within his voice can almost be mistaken as vulnerability. He pulls his eyes from Kas’ before he could recognize the twinge of pain within them. He walks back towards your unconscious body. He rakes over you, questioning what Kas saw in you. “You were right about one thing,” he continues as he speaks over his shoulder. “I do want someone to stand beside me as the world burns.”

Vecna swiftly turns back to Kas. The quick movement almost berating his body with an impenetrable force that flew his head back against the wall. A soft hiss falls from Kas’ lips as he sears from the blunt pain. “What did she do?” Vecna asks as he takes another step towards him. “What did she do that made you give up on everything that we had?”

Kas begins to feel a tightening against his neck. He coughs as he struggles to gather his breath. He tries his best to calm his body, not wanting to show any response to Vecna’s abuse. “Nothing,” he whispers with a strained voice. “She did absolutely nothing to pull me from you.”

After a laugh of disbelief, Vecna sucks his tongue against his bottom teeth with a clenched jaw. “She had to do something, Kas,” he says with pseudo-encouragement in his tone. His boisterous attitude disappears just as quickly as it emerged. A wash of despair falls upon Vecna as he slowly realizes what you gave Kas. A thing that he could never give. Kas scoffs, enjoying the pain that resonates on the face before him.

“You kill innocent people,” Kas asserts with a hindered voice. Now it was Vecna’s turn to laugh. “Innocent? There’s no such thing as innocent people,” he grumbles with another painful chuckle. Kas’ lips form into a solid line as hatred fills his lungs. “Chrissy Cunningham was innocent,” he spits out loudly. Vecna grumbles as a slow smile forms on his face. “Who?” he asks sarcastically. Kas hisses immediately, almost as though he was ready for Vecna’s dismissal. “The girl you killed in front of me,” he retorts.

Vecna’s back immediately straightens as he stares at Kas in incredulity. “You remember?” he asks quietly. “No, no. You were perfect,” he attempts to understand by speaking aloud to himself. Kas lets out another bustling laugh despite the pain it caused in his wounded body. “How many times did you kill me before I was perfect?” Kas asks nonchalantly.

The words penetrating Vecna’s thick armor as he stumbles a step back. “How long did it take you to realize that I remembered before you sicked your bats on me? Before you brought me back again and again?” Kas lets out a simple chuckle, feeling the strength holding him against the wall weaken. He stretches his neck, hearing a clear crack in its side. “You killed me and then expected me to call you my savior,” he mutters in disgust.

As anger boils the blood that courses through his veins, Kas pulls harshly away from the wall. The feeling no different than peeling his skin off of a burning stove. He struggles to muffle the scream forming in his throat, but his eyes are set upon Vecna. He lands harshly onto the floor, evaporating the force that held him up.

Vecna’s expression rests in a fixed state of complete bewilderment and determination. “You may despise me, but you do love her,” he whispers in a clear monotone. His quick disconnection from reality settles in as his hand slowly raises - and you along with it. Kas’ eyes widen as he watches your lifeless body raise behind Vecna’s shoulder.

“Would you like to feel the pain you just caused me?” Vecna says carelessly as a sadistic smile pulls to the side of his face. Kas’ eyes quickly scatter between yours and his. His entire body fuels with adrenaline as he watches your body destined for death within the hands of his “savior.” “Wait,” he pleads. His mouth immediately fills with regret as he slowly returns his eyes to the soulless pair before him. “Don’t.”

Vecna continues to stare into Kas. He internalizes the twitches of his face, all the pained lines drawn upon his skin. A small part of him wonders if Kas will ever care for him as much as he does for you - if he ever has. The words drop as quickly as the thought fades from his mind. “Don’t what?” he mocks. Kas winces as he begrudgingly returns his sorrowed eyes to Vecna. “Don’t hurt her,” he whispers with a lack of intonation to his voice. “I will stay with you, but only if you let her go.”

A heart flutters faster than intended. Faster than he ever remembered it could. Vecna swallows his pride as he slowly lowers the desolate girl behind him. “Take her to the border,” he instructs as he steps out of Kas’ direct path towards you.

Kas nods as he rushes to your side. His fingers gently brush the hair from your face as he desperately searches your skin for abrasions. “You’re okay. You’re okay,” he says softly and repeatedly. He tucks his arm underneath your neck. Another arm hooks beneath your knees as he slowly lifts both your bodies up from his crouch.

As he heads towards the door without any intention of looking back, Vecna adds, “If she returns, I will kill her.” Kas slowly turns around, following the ear closest to Vecna as he ingrains the threat into his memory. “If you don’t return, I will kill her.” Fear pangs his heart. It is almost audible as his eyes fall to the ground. He slowly turns, careful not to make sudden movements, as he and you both escape death. Vecna watches him as he carries your undeserving being through the threshold.

As soon as he made enough headway from the now demolished house, Kas bolts into a sprint to create as much distance between you and his maker. He takes you to another piece of the fallen Hawkin’s border. Your body often smacks against his chest within his haste. The sounds are almost reminiscent of the previous night, but he pushes the thought far from his mind.

Finally, Kas finds an abandoned church along the way. “Saint Jude’s,” he reads aloud as he walks down the stoned pathway. He finds irony in the idea but pushes through the big double doors with you in his arms. He lightly lays you down upon a pew. Another finger brushes the soft strand out of your face - a now involuntary and automatic act of care. His eyes rake your body, assessing the damages. The majority of your skin was racked with bruises. However, the biggest concern was, of course, your broken leg.

With a heavy breath in preparation, Kas finally takes in the sight of your distorted leg. The image hurt him more than he could have ever imagined. Seething in hot breaths, he raises his wrist and bites harshly against it. Softly, he raises your head to his inner wrist. Your pretty mouth resting nicely against his wound.

In your woozy state, you push him away. Some part of your consciousness awakens as adrenaline bursts through and your fists begin swinging. He holds you down, despite the blood falling from his forearm. “God, you’re unbearable even when you sleep,” he grumbles. Your defenses slowly soften as you slip back into unconsciousness. He raises his wrist to your mouth once more. His other hand slowly caresses the back of your head as his fingers trace through strands of your hair.

As soon as a drop of blood falls upon your lips, your body craves it. Suddenly, your hands were holding the back of his wrist and pressing his forearm against your face. He tries his best not to find the interaction incredibly arousing, but your embrace, light sucks, and little nibbles make his head swoon. You took as much of him as you needed, falling back in exhaustion once finished.

Kas hovers over you for what seemed like hours, but is truly only minutes. A smile forms on his face as he watches the bruises slowly disappear from your beautiful skin. “You’re okay, darlin’,” he whispers. The words finally feel true. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead. A kiss you will never know of.

With that, he carries you up to his chest once more to finish the trek to the border. He cannot help the smirk that plagues his cheeks as he feels you nuzzle against him. A clear, but subtle smile forming on your own lips.

“And then he let us go and I healed you with my blood,” Kas states matter-of-factly with a shrug. His back still leaning heavily against the tree trunk. Arms and ankles crossed as he slowly raises his eyes onto yours.

You stumble back, placing a hand against your stomach. Nausea washes over your head as you attempt to process the information provided. You quickly drop to your knees. The movement is sudden enough that Kas jumps from the tree, desperate to catch you. “I’m okay,” you say as you swat his hands away. “I-I just,” you start, breathlessly. “I just need a second. That-that was a lot.” He steps back slowly and hesitantly. He gradually falls into a squat in front of you as he mindlessly picks up random leaves to play with - giving you the space you asked for.

Your mind feels fixed, almost as though you cannot trust your own memories. What Kas says happened sounds familiar, yet unfamiliar all at the same time. You also cannot forget that the truth does not come so easily from those particular supple lips. You push your fingers through your hair, trying not to burst into sobs over the lack of control. It is not easy to accept being a toy in someone else’s game, to accept no longer being the main character.

From what Kas shared, you should be safe. You should be free, yet - you feel anything but. Something was not right. “Kas,” you whisper, breaking the silence. His head pops up almost immediately. “So, Vecna tried to kill me. He-he broke my leg,” you attempt to recollect. The words all feeling familiar. “You both fought and then he just agreed to let us go?” you ask in disbelief. Kas nodded, gesturing a compressed shrug with his hands.

“I don’t believe you,” you say lightly with a shake of your head.

Kas scoffs as he pushes his curly hair back. The smile almost juvenile as he looks back at you with distrust. “Believe what you want, darlin’,” he shrugs once again. He stands up, making his way back to his trusty tree. “No,” you say abruptly, standing yourself. “There’s no way he would let us go without anything in return,” you murmur to yourself, thinking aloud. “What did you do?” you ask with horrified eyes.

He deadpans as soon as your question hits his ears. With a deep breath, he whispers, “I got us out.” You walk towards him with a stubborn, determined pace as your palms press against his chest. “What did you do, Kas?” you ask again as you watch him stumble back from your push. With a look of annoyance, he rushes you with a finger pointed in your face. “I saved your life and this is the thanks I get,” he yells with hands out to his sides. “God,” he scoffs, pulling away from you and throwing a hand up. “I did what I had to,” he mumbles as he adds more distance between you two.

You follow him, a gentle hand to his wrist as you turn him around. Those gentle brown eyes that you know so well staring back at you. This time you recognize Kas within them. “Kas, what did you do?” you ask calmly. His gaze falls to your hand. He slowly lowers your fingers and intertwines them with his before flicking his eyes back to you. “I have to go back,” he whispers, like an innocent boy admitting his wrongs.

You take a sharp breath as you try your best to keep calm, but your head is already involuntarily shaking no. “It’s okay,” Kas murmurs as he tightens his palm against yours. “I’ve made my peace.” Your eyes swiftly fall upon his, tears welling. “No,” you muster. “You don’t have to.” The unbearable weight pressing against your chest has only just lifted, and yet, another hundred or so pounds are added on. A man who pained you so harshly, who then saved you, is going back to hell for you. The words are beyond confusing to think about, but it does not change the feeling of hope you have towards your new ally.

“You don’t have to go back,” you whimper as your other arm rests against his back and pulls him into a hug. The warmth of his embrace confirms that bit of his story within your own memory. “If I don’t go, I am setting up some other miserable fuck for hell on Earth,” he whispers in your ear as his chin finds a spot upon your shoulder. His hand pressing against the base of your skull, supporting you. “I won’t do that to someone else.”

You pull away, shaking your head again. His forehead falls against the crook of your neck, almost naturally. “Aren’t you supposed to be the bad guy?” you ask incredulously. His head lifts as confusion presses his brows together. “Why do you care what happens to the next guy?” A smile pulls to the side of his face as he presses his hips against yours. The largest space between you two rests between your chests as you hold each other tightly at the waist. “You must be rubbing off on me,” he mutters softly.

“Come with me, Kas,” you say as you break away from the embrace. Your fingertips brushing against his as you attempt to walk into the field. The sun is starting the set and the light blue sky fills with orange. As you continue to step into the field, you swear the air tastes different. “I can’t,” he whispers as you pull away and he chooses not to chase you.

The act stops you in your tracks as you look back at him. You take the second to think, to devise a plan. “If I promise you that we can kill him, maybe not today or tomorrow, but some day we will come back and kill him - then, would you come with me?” you ask hopelessly. You have absolutely no idea of how that might happen. How you two might accomplish such a feat. You have never known the need for revenge until meeting Kas. Nothing will stop you from finding out how to put Vecna in the ground, and suffer as you do it.

Without thinking, the words fall from your lips all with good intent, “I promise you. Will you come with me?” You walk back to the border, only a step away from the impending doom that is Hawkins. Your hand extended for someone who is just as capable of that same doom, and yet, you pray he will take it. You hope he will join you in this world and that he will help you defeat your lover’s killer. All you can do is hope. A hand falls into yours, breaking your string of thoughts.

“I will,” Kas says softly as he steps into the orange glow of the sunset.

note: how we feeling? what are we thinking? we have 3 more parts to go and best believe the gang will be making an appearance! thank you for taking the time to read 🤍 i hope you will share your thoughts!

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