#I know they are gonna be inseparable after the war

[kaths-art]

How they’re gonna be after the war

[brunchable]

LAZARUS SERUM || Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Part I

Part Two | Part Three Words: 8.5K Themes: Very Angsty?, Break-up, Violence, Kidnapped, Super Human transformation, Action, Attempted Assault, Lovers to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers. Summary: Set in 1942. Steve allowed being a Super Soldier inflate his ego. After a breaking up with Steve, your world shatters then you're abducted and subjected to a mysterious experiment. A/N: I was washing the dishes when this came to me. I thought Y/N was really BADASS at the end. Baby girl is bad bitch, she on Fire. Paint the town red can be her song. A reblog would be noice <3

The sun was setting over Brooklyn, casting long shadows across the streets. You and Steve walked side by side, your fingers intertwined, the cool breeze of the evening wrapping around you both. Steve’s small hand fit perfectly in yours, a comforting reminder of the years you had spent together, supporting each other through thick and thin. 

It wasn’t easy being with him, especially with how the world treated him—just a scrawny, sickly guy who never knew when to give up. 

Your parents disapproved and your friends laughed at you for choosing Steve over James. You always tell Steve, ‘If they laugh, then fuck'em all.’

He has a good heart and you loved him for it— for his determination, his kindness, and his unwavering sense of right and wrong.

As you walked, a heavy silence hung between you. The reason was clear: James or known as Bucky Barnes, was shipping out to fight in the war. The three of you had been inseparable, a trio bound by shared history and deep affection. But now, Bucky was leaving, and the thought of losing him weighed heavily on your heart.

“Well, I guess this is it. I’m heading out tomorrow.” Bucky finally stopped and turned to you both, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You nodded, trying to keep the sadness from showing on your face. “It’s not going to be the same without you, Bucky.”

He gave a small chuckle, though it lacked its usual warmth. “You’ll manage. You’ve got this punk to keep you busy.” He playfully nudged Steve, who smiled weakly in return.

“I should be going with you, Bucky,” Steve said, his voice tight with emotion.

“You’re gonna be fine, Steve. You’ve got that heart of yours, and that’s stronger than any muscle.” Bucky’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. He turned to you, his gaze filled with concern. 

“And you, Y/N… take care of him, will ya? Someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”

You forced a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will, Bucky. I promise.”

Bucky pulled you into a tight hug, holding you for a moment longer than necessary. When he finally let go, he clasped hands with Steve, their handshake lingering as they both tried to hold onto the moment.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” Bucky said, trying to lighten the mood.

Steve gave a small laugh, but it was strained. “No promises.”

With one last look at both of you, Bucky nodded, then turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the distance. 

As he left, the weight of his absence settled over you like a thick fog. The world suddenly felt colder, emptier without Bucky’s presence.

“He’ll be okay,” Steve said quietly, more to himself than to you, as you both stood there in silence, watching Bucky disappear.You leaned into Steve, seeking comfort in his presence. 

“I hope so. I don’t know what we’ll do if something happens to him.” Steve squeezed your hand, trying to be reassuring. 

“He’s strong. He’ll make it back.” But deep down, both of you knew there were no guarantees in war.

× × × × 

A few weeks later, the day finally came when Steve received his enlistment notice. You were there when he got the news, a mixture of pride and worry swirling in your chest. He had finally done it—he was going to fight in the war, just like Bucky. But that also meant he was leaving you behind, just like Bucky.

“I can’t believe it,” Steve said, staring at the paper in his hands, his voice filled with excitement. “I’m actually going.”

You smiled, though it was bittersweet. “I knew you would. You’re the most determined person I’ve ever met, Steve. They’d be crazy not to let you in.”

 “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.” Steve looked up at you, his expression softening.

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so proud of you, Steve. You’re going to do great things. Just… promise me you’ll be careful.”

Steve’s eyes were filled with emotion as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll come back to you. I swear.”

But as you held him, a deep sadness settled over you. First Bucky, now Steve—everyone you cared about was leaving, going off to fight a war that seemed so far removed from your life in Brooklyn. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread, a fear that things would never be the same again.

× × × × 

The day Steve came back from the super-soldier program, everything changed. You had waited anxiously for news, praying that everything would go smoothly, that he would come back to you safe and sound. When you finally saw him again, it was nothing like you imagined.

The first time you laid eyes on the new Steve Rogers was outside a government building, where a crowd had gathered. You pushed your way through, eager to see him after weeks of silence. When you finally spotted him, your breath caught in your throat.There he was—tall, muscular, and impossibly different. The boy you once knew was gone, replaced by a man who exuded power and confidence. It was Steve, and yet it wasn’t.

“Steve!” you called out, your voice lost in the noise of the crowd. You tried to make your way toward him, but the throng of people pushed you back, jostling you aside as they clamored for a closer look at the hero.

Steve seemed oblivious to the crowd around him, focused entirely on the conversation he was having with a woman by his side—Peggy Carter. You had heard about her, of course, but seeing them together was different. There was an ease between them that made your heart sink.

“Steve!” you called out again, louder this time, but he didn’t hear you—or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. You watched as Peggy leaned in closer, her hand resting on his arm in a way that felt far too familiar.

Then, as if in slow motion, you saw Steve get into a car with her, leaving you standing alone in the crowd, feeling completely invisible.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to see you, to run to you, to hold you in his arms like he always did. But instead, he was driving away with someone else, and you were left behind, forgotten.

× × × ×

A few weeks pass by with not one word from Steve, the last time you heard his voice was on the radio, giving a speech that would motivate the soldiers out there or in the newspaper. You were sitting by the window, reading a book while your cat rested peacefully on your lap. Then, there was a knock at the door. You kept your ears attentive, though your eyes were focused somewhere else.

You heard your mother answer it, and you listened as she exchanged a few words with whoever was at the door. A moment later, she called out to you, “Y/N, there’s a soldier here to see you.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion as you walked toward the door. A soldier? Why would—?

As you reached the doorway, your breath caught in your throat. There, standing in the threshold, was Steve Rogers, but not the Steve you remembered. He was taller, broader, wearing an army uniform that fit him perfectly, and his entire presence seemed… different. The frail, sickly boy you had known was gone, replaced by a man you barely recognized.

“Do you know this gentleman, dear?” Your mother, still standing by the door, looked between you and Steve, clearly confused. 

“It’s me, Mrs. L/N, Steve Rogers.” Steve gave her a warm smile, his voice deeper than you remembered. 

Your mother blinked, looking Steve up and down before recognition finally dawned on her face. “Steve? My goodness, look at you! I didn’t even recognize you. You look… Well, you look like a different person altogether!”

“Yes, he… he certainly does.” You forced a smile, still trying to process the fact that he's standing there. 

“Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” Your mother gave you a strange look as she walked past, heading back into the house. 

The heck was that about?

As she disappeared into the other room, you turned your attention back to Steve, your heart pounding. You looked up at him, which was something you weren't used to. He's so. . .tall.

“Steve… is that really you?”

“It’s me, Y/N,” Steve replied, his voice deeper than you remembered. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Things have been… crazy in the last couple of days.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment.

Steve smiled, a hint of the old Steve you knew shining through. “I’m more than okay. I want to make it up to you. How about I take you out to dinner tonight? Just the two of us.”

Your heart lifted at the thought. Maybe this was your chance to reconnect, to get back to the way things were. 

“I’d like that,” you said softly. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Listen, I need to go back but I'll see you at our favorite spot? Six-thirty?” He reaches for your hands and kissed the back of it. 

“I’ll be there,” you chuckled at his romantic gesture.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” He winks at you, and you couldn’t help but giggle. This new playful side of him, got you hooked like a fish.

× × × ×

“Good evening, Ma'am. Do you have a reservation for tonight?” the hostess asked politely, her hands poised over the guest book.

“Yes. Steve Rogers?”

The hostess scanned the list, her finger trailing down the page. “Table 11. Right this way.” She smiled warmly and gestured for you to follow.

Your heart quickened as you anticipated seeing Steve, but when you reached the table, your smile faltered. The chair opposite you was empty. The hostess pulled it out for you, and with a quiet sigh, you sat down, your eyes flickering anxiously toward the door.

“Can I offer you any refreshments?” 

“Not at the moment.”

“No problem. Let us know if you need anything.” With a nod, she left you alone, leaving the weight of the evening to settle over you.

Minutes turned into an hour, and you found yourself glancing at the door every time it opened, only to be met with disappointment as someone other than Steve entered. As the hours passed, your hope began to wane, replaced by a growing knot of irritation in your chest.

But as the hours ticked by, your hope began to fade. The restaurant was closing, and still, there was no sign of him. The waitstaff was cleaning up around you, giving you sympathetic looks as you sat there alone, trying to hold back the tears.

The restaurant was winding down, the waitstaff quietly cleaning up around you. Their sympathetic looks were hard to ignore as you sat alone, struggling to keep your emotions in check. You felt a lump in your throat, your eyes stinging as you blinked back tears.

“Miss, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re closing,” a waiter said gently, approaching you with a cautious smile.

You nodded, trying to muster some semblance of dignity, “I’m so sorry. I’ll be on my way.” You snuffled and smiled as you got up from your seat. Getting up alone was hard, the weight of embarrassment was weighing you down. 

Just as you turned to leave, the door swung open. Steve rushed in, his face flushed and hair slightly disheveled. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, hurrying over to you. “I got caught up in something important. I didn’t mean to be late.”

The staff paused in their work, their eyes shifting between you and Steve. There stood the dashing soldier, looking every bit the hero in his crisp uniform, yet here he was, unmistakably late. As their gazes turned to you in your lavender shirtwaist dress, it was clear they understood why you had waited so long.

“It’s eleven.” Your voice seethed after glancing at your watch, noticing a red smudge on his collar, “They’re closed. Let’s talk outside.”

Without waiting for a response, you cleared your throat and walked out, brushing past him intentionally to make your anger known. Steve followed closely behind, sensing the storm brewing between you two. This was the first time he had been this late, and you were struggling to decide whether to forgive him easily or let him feel the full weight of your emotions.

“Steve, where were you? I waited for hours,” you said, trying to keep your voice whole, this feeling like you were losing him is foreign and hard to keep internally.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I got caught up with something… important.” Steve barely met your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“More important than us?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, the pain of being pushed aside finally surfacing.

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not like that. You know I’m trying to do the right thing. There’s so much going on, and I—”

“Forgot about me?” You didn’t want to be this person, but the loneliness and the fear of losing him had been building up for too long. Without Bucky around, you had no one to turn to, no one to share this burden with. “I understand that you have responsibilities now, but you made a promise.”

He finally looked at you, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Y/N, I’m not leaving you behind. I just. . . things are different.”

“I can see that,” you said, you look at him from head to toe. The man standing in front of you wasn’t the same Steve who used to hold you and make you feel like the most important person in the world. This was someone else, someone who had outgrown you, “You’ve changed, and I’m not talking about your appearance.”

“I’m still me, Y/N. But now, I have responsibilities, people who rely on me.” Steve looked down, guilt flashing in his eyes. 

“And what about me?” you asked, the hurt evident in your voice. “Do I even matter anymore, or was I just someone to keep you company when you had nothing else?”

“Don’t say that,” Steve replied quickly out of spite, “Maybe… maybe you were only with me because you felt sorry for me. For who I was.”

His words cut deep, and you recoiled as if he had struck you. “You think I was with you out of pity? Is that what you believe?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, his voice strained.

“How could you think that?” you said, your voice rising with a mix of anger and hurt. “I was with you because I love you, Steve. Not because I felt sorry for you. I believed in you, and I loved you for who you were, not because of what you couldn’t do or how you appear.”

“I’m just not sure where I fit in this new world, and I’m not sure where you fit in it either. I'm trying to wo—”

Your chest began feeling tight because of his words. You had always known that things would change after the serum, but you never expected him to question your feelings like this. 

“So, what are you saying? That there’s no place for me in your life anymore? That I don’t belong because you’ve become someone else?” You emphasized his structure with your hand.

Steve shook his head, looking frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I just… I feel like we’re both hanging on to something that’s already gone.”

“Already gone? Nothing was gone, at least not on my part.” Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep your voice from cracking, “Is there someone else? Is that why you’re looking for a way out?”

“No! Of course not. It's because for once in myself I feel like I'm worth something,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

The finality of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had fought so hard to hold onto him, to keep the love between you alive, but now it felt like you were losing that battle. You had wanted him to stay tonight, to make things right, but now you weren’t sure if there was anything left to salvage.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You turned away, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over. 

“You know what? Just… go, Steve. Do whatever it is you have to do. I will not think less of myself just because you do not know how to love me anymore.” you said, your voice heavy with resignation.

“Y/N…” Steve’s voice was soft, filled with regret, but you couldn’t face him. Not now.

“Please, Steve. Just go.”

What you really wanted to say was, “Please stay. Show me that I still matter to you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You were too afraid that he wouldn’t fight for you, and the thought of that was too painful to bear.

Steve hesitated, his eyes wandering as if trying to find the right words. He just stood there, saying nothing. 

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you walked closer to him, his face softening as you reached up and gently adjusted his collar. Your fingers brushed against the fabric, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. 

Then, in the calmest voice you could muster, you said, “Lemon helps with removing lipstick stains.”

Steve’s eyes widened in panic, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the spot where your fingers had been.

“Y/N, I seriously don't know how this got here—” he began and it almost sounded genuine, his voice filled with panic as he tried to close the distance between you.

But you took a step back, your eyes now red and brimming with tears. You raised a hand to stop him, your voice breaking as you sobbed deeply, “Don’t. Just… don’t.”

Steve’s heart shattered at the sight of you sobbing, your pain a statement in every tear that fell. His instinct was to reach out, to hold you, but your outstretched hand and the heartbreak in your eyes kept him rooted to the spot.

If Bucky were here… The thought pierced his mind like a knife, and suddenly, jealousy coursed through him, hot and irrational. Bucky. The one person who had always managed to make you smile, even when he couldn’t. The one who could draw out your laughter with just a word, a look. The one who, despite being his best friend, had always been a shadow in the corner of Steve’s mind when it came to you.

Was it easier with Bucky? Did you love Bucky more than him? Had you ever thought of Bucky in ways that Steve couldn’t bear to imagine?

“You should’ve just chosen Bucky.” Steve muttered and with one last, tortured look at you, Steve turned away, his steps. He walked away, leaving you standing there, your tears flowing freely now. He didn’t look back, too afraid of what he might see if he did.

Your breath caught in your throat, the shock of his words slicing through the already unbearable pain. You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to process the bitterness in his voice, the finality of his statement.

The Steve you had known was gone. You didn’t know if looking for him would be worth it because you knew how it would feel—it would feel like reaching for smoke.

Heartbroken and feeling more isolated than ever, you decided to walk home alone. Your cries echoes the street, water gushing out of your eyes like it’s being released by a dam. The echo of your footsteps on the empty streets was a haunting reminder of just how alone you felt. Steve had left, and with him, it felt like a part of your heart had been ripped away.

Steve’s words replayed in your mind, cutting deeper with every repetition. The idea that he thought you might have been with him out of pity or that you're better off with Bucky was a knife to your heart, twisting with every breath.

The streets of Brooklyn were eerily quiet, the usual bustle replaced by an unsettling stillness. The lamps cast long, distorted shadows across the pavement, and every sound seemed amplified in the silence. You quickened your pace, trying to escape the weight of your thoughts, but it was no use. 

As you turned down a narrow street, the familiar surroundings suddenly felt foreign and oppressive. You hugged your coat tighter around you, your mind racing with a mixture of fear and despair. Ahead, the road forked into two directions—one leading to your home, the other into an even darker, narrower alley. You turned towards home, your heart pounding as you tried to shake the feeling of being watched.

Then, without warning, you heard the screech of tires on the asphalt. Before you could react, a van skidded to a stop in front of you, its headlights blinding in the dark street. The doors flew open, and three men in dark clothing jumped out, their faces obscured by shadows.

Panic surged through you as you spun on your heel, trying to run, but it was too late. They were on you in an instant, their grips like iron as they dragged you towards the van.

“No! Let me go! Help! Please someone!” you screamed, thrashing against their hold, but your voice was swallowed by the night, and the empty streets offered no help. Your heart raced, the fear consuming you as you struggled with the best you can.

A cloth was suddenly pressed against your mouth and nose, and a sickly sweet smell filled your senses. You tried to hold your breath, to fight against the drowsiness that quickly overtook you, but it was no use. The world around you started to blur, your vision darkening as your body went limp.

The last thing you heard before everything went black was the sound of the van doors slamming shut and the dull roar of the engine as it sped away into the night.

× × × ×

DAY ONE

When you woke, the world was a haze of pain and confusion. The first thing you noticed was the cold metal pressing against your back, you were naked. Your wrists and ankles were strapped to a metal table, the restraints biting into your skin. Panic clawed at your chest as you struggled against the bonds, but they held firm, keeping you pinned down.

Your vision was blurry, your head pounding from whatever they had used to knock you out. Slowly, the room around you came into focus—bare, clinical, with walls of stark white. You weren’t in Brooklyn anymore. You weren’t anywhere you recognized.

You heard voices, cold and detached, speaking in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out the words, but the tone sent chills down your spine. Footsteps approached, and a shadow loomed over you.

A man’s face came into view, his expression devoid of any warmth or compassion. “She’s awake. Prepare the serum.”

The word “serum” sent a jolt of fear through you, and you renewed your struggles, trying to break free. But the restraints didn’t budge, and the man paid no attention to your terror or the muffled screams that bounced off the walls.

You felt a sharp prick in your arm as they injected something into your veins. Immediately, a searing pain shot through your body, like liquid fire burning through every nerve. You tried to scream, but your voice was caught in your throat, choked off by the agony that consumed you.

The pain was unbearable and you could feel your body convulsing on the table, your muscles seizing as the serum spread through you. It felt like your entire being was being torn apart, every cell screaming in protest. You began to foam in the mouth, the scene your captors watched was like out of an exorcist movie.

And then… nothing. The world around you went dark, and you slipped into unconsciousness, the pain finally giving way to merciful oblivion.

“Sir, should we stop?” One of them said, “Her vital signs are getting dangerously out of limits, she might go into cardiac arrest.”

“No, keep going until that last vial is finished. I want to see what’ll happen. Then we repeat until there’s signs of success.” 

DAY TWO

You awoke to the sensation of your body being dragged, rough hands gripping your arms as they pulled you across the cold, unforgiving floor. Your vision was clouded, your mind struggling to grasp onto reality as the fog of unconsciousness began to lift. Every inch of you ached, a dull, throbbing pain that seemed to seep into your very bones.

As you were hoisted back onto the metal table, the cold surface pressed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The restraints clamped down on your wrists and ankles once more, their cruel bite familiar by now. The room around you was still the same—sterile, white, and devoid of any humanity.

You tried to speak, but your throat was on dry and on fire, your voice barely a whisper. "Please... stop..."

Your plea fell on deaf ears. The figures in lab coats moved around you with the same clinical detachment as before, their faces obscured by surgical masks. One of them approached, holding a clipboard, his eyes scanning the data as if you were nothing more than a lab rat.

"Her vitals stabilized overnight," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "But... the readings are inconsistent. I'm not sure if the serum is taking effect."

The man from before—the one who had ordered the serum—stepped into view, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He leaned over you, his eyes scrutinizing your face with a mix of curiosity and impatience.

"Let's see if she can handle more," he said, his voice flat, giving nothing away.

Panic surged through you, your heart racing as you remembered the excruciating pain from the day before. You tried to struggle, but your body was too weak, too drained from the torment they had already inflicted on you.

The man nodded to one of his colleagues, who approached with another syringe, the liquid inside glowing with an ominous, sickly hue. You watched in horror as the needle approached your arm, every muscle in your body tensing with dread.

"No... no, please..." you begged, your voice breaking.

But they didn't stop. The needle pierced your skin once again, and the liquid fire coursed through your veins, more intense than before. The pain was immediate, searing through you like a thousand white-hot knives. You thrashed against the restraints, your screams tearing through the air, but there was no escape from the agony.

The world around you blurred as the pain became all-consuming, every nerve in your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding erratically, your vision darkening at the edges. It was too much, too overwhelming.

But this time, there was no merciful oblivion waiting for you. The pain persisted, dragging you down into a nightmare from which there was no escape. Your body convulsed violently, your muscles seizing as the serum wreaked havoc within you.

The voices around you became distant, muffled by the roaring in your ears. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but their tone was one of cold observation, detached from the suffering they were causing.

"Her body's reacting... but the patterns aren't consistent. It’s hard to tell if it’s working or if she’s just... rejecting it."

"Increase the dosage," the man ordered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched your writhing form. "We need to push her further. If there's any sign of success, we'll see it soon enough."

"But sir," one of the lab technicians hesitated, his voice uncertain. "If we push too hard, she might not survive the next round. The readings are already erratic—she could go into shock or worse."

"That’s a risk I’m willing to take," the man replied coldly. "We won’t know until we push her limits."

Your heart sank at his words. There was no end to this. They were going to keep pushing, keep testing, until either the serum took hold of your body or gave out entirely.

As you lay there, barely conscious, the pain began to ebb slightly, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you tried to cling to consciousness.

"Prepare the next dose," the man ordered, his voice devoid of any empathy.

This time, your heart sank even deeper. The nightmare wasn’t just beginning—it was accelerating, and there was no way out. You were trapped in this hell, at the mercy of those who saw you as nothing more than an experiment, a means to an end. And whether or not the serum was taking effect, you knew that whatever happened next would push you to your breaking point—and beyond.

DAY EIGHTY

When you woke, the familiar chill of the metal table greeted you. The room was as stark and clinical as ever, but something had changed within you. The pain was still there, a constant, gnawing presence, but it no longer controlled you. You had become accustomed to it, numb to its bite. It was just another part of your existence now.

Eighty days.

Eighty days of torment, of relentless experimentation, of feeling your body and mind pushed to their breaking points and beyond. You had lost track of time somewhere around the third week, the days and nights blending into a seamless blur of agony and darkness. But even as the days passed, you remained conscious, aware—alive.

The door to the room opened, and you didn’t bother to turn your head. You knew who it was. The man with the cold eyes approached, his footsteps echoing on the hard floor. He had become a constant in your world, his presence as regular as the pain he inflicted. 

“You’re still with us, I see,” he remarked, his tone as detached as ever. He moved closer, inspecting the restraints that held you down. “Most impressive.”

You didn’t respond. You hadn’t spoken in days—there was nothing left to say. Every word, every plea had fallen on deaf ears. You had learned long ago that silence was your only companion in this hell.

“Her vitals are stronger,” a technician noted, glancing at the monitors that tracked your every heartbeat. “We’ve noticed a significant increase in her strength and resilience. The serum seems to be taking effect.”

The man nodded, though there was no satisfaction in his expression. “Eighty days,” he mused, as if talking to himself. “Eighty days, and you’re still here. Stronger, faster… more than we ever anticipated.”

He turned his gaze to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But are you in control, I wonder? Or has the serum taken control of you?”

His words hung in the air, but you didn’t flinch. The battle for control was something you fought every day, every hour. The serum coursing through your veins had changed you in ways you couldn’t fully understand yet, but you were still you—or so you told yourself.

“Let’s see if we can push it further,” he said, signaling to the technician.

The restraints were released, and you felt the cold metal slide away from your wrists and ankles. You didn’t move, not yet. You had learned to conserve your strength, to hold back until the moment was right.

“Sit up,” he commanded.

You obeyed, slowly raising yourself into a seated position. Your movements were deliberate, controlled. You could feel the power coursing through your body, every muscle coiled with potential energy, but you kept it in check.

The man stepped back, giving you space, watching you closely. “Stand.”

You slid off the table, your bare feet touching the cold floor. You stood, swaying slightly as the blood rushed to your head. But you remained upright, your gaze locked on the man who had been your tormentor for nearly three months.

“Walk,” he ordered, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

You took a step forward, then another. Your legs were shaky at first, but you quickly found your balance. Each movement felt strange, foreign, as if you were inhabiting a body that wasn’t entirely your own. But you continued, step after step, until you were standing directly in front of him.

“Good,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Very good.”

He reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch was light, almost gentle, but you could sense the underlying threat in it. “Now, let’s see just how far we can take this.”

You didn’t react as he motioned for the guards to step forward, their weapons at the ready. You knew what was coming next. This was another test, another attempt to push you beyond your limits.

The guards surrounded you, their faces expressionless, their grips tight on their weapons. The man gave a slight nod, and they moved as one, striking out at you with calculated precision.

But this time, you were ready. The serum had done its work. You were faster, stronger, and as their blows came toward you, you reacted with a speed that surprised even you. You deflected the first strike with ease, the second with even greater efficiency. Your movements were fluid, instinctual, a dance of power and precision.

Within moments, the guards were on the ground, groaning in pain, their weapons scattered across the floor. You stood over them, breathing heavily, your heart pounding with adrenaline. The power surging through you was intoxicating, overwhelming, but you were in control. For now.

The man watched you with a hint of something in his eyes—respect, maybe, or perhaps something more sinister.

“Yes,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

You stood there, the blood rushing in your ears, your body alive with the thrill of what you had just done. But beneath it all, there was a gnawing sense of unease. You had changed, become something different, something more. But at what cost?

As the guards were dragged away, the man turned to you once more. “Eighty days,” he repeated, a slight smile playing on his lips. “And now, the real work begins.”

You didn’t respond. You had nothing left to say. The battle was far from over, and as you looked into the cold, calculating eyes of your captor, you knew that whatever came next would push you even further into the darkness.

But you were ready. Because after eighty days of hell, you had learned one thing—you would survive, no matter what.

DAY 100

The pain had reached a point where it was almost surreal, as if your mind had detached itself from your body to protect what was left of your sanity. You lay strapped to the cold metal table, your skin clammy, your breaths shallow. The serum that had been forced into your veins was taking its final toll. Your vision blurred, the edges of your world darkening as you teetered on the brink of consciousness.

The man with the cold eyes stood over you, his expression hard as he watched the monitors tracking your vitals. He had been relentless, pushing the experiments further each day, determined to force the serum to work. But today, something was different. The lines on the monitor were becoming erratic, your heart rate spiking and dipping unpredictably.

"Her vitals are deteriorating rapidly," a technician warned, his voice tinged with anxiety. "She's not stabilizing. We should stop."

The man clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "We’re too close. Increase the dosage."

"But sir, she won't survive—"

"Do it!" he barked, cutting off the protest.The technician hesitated for a moment before injecting you with another dose of the glowing serum. The liquid fire surged through your veins, and the world around you exploded into pain once again. But this time, it was different—this time, your body couldn’t take it.

You convulsed violently on the table, the restraints digging into your skin as your body fought a losing battle. Your vision darkened further, the room around you fading into an indistinct blur. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, a desperate rhythm that couldn’t keep pace with the assault on your system.

And then, it stopped. The world around you went silent. your life flashed before your eyes, beginning with the warmth of your childhood—the comforting embrace of your mother as she read you stories at night, the sound of her laughter filling your small apartment in Brooklyn. You remembered the day you met Steve, the shy, awkward boy who had tripped over his own feet trying to impress you, and Bucky’s teasing grin as he nudged Steve forward, encouraging him to finally ask you out. There were memories of long summer days spent in the park, the three of you inseparable, sharing ice cream and dreams of the future.

But then, the memories shifted. The warmth drained away as you saw Steve walking away from you, his back turned, his footsteps echoing in the empty space between you. . .

“Dispose of the body.”

× × × ×

D - 100

When you woke up this time, you weren’t in the cold, sterile room. Instead, you were lying in an alley, discarded like trash. The hard, wet pavement was unforgiving against your body, and the chill in the air bit through your clothes. You don’t know what day or even month it was.

Your once neat and tidy outfit was now torn and filthy, covered in grime and dirt from the alleyway. The lavender shirtwaist dress you had worn so proudly earlier was now barely recognizable, stained with mud and who knows what else.

Your hair, once carefully styled, was now a tangled mess, strands sticking to your face, damp with sweat and the moisture of the night. You could feel the grit and dirt under your nails, the remnants of your struggle to free yourself from whatever hellish place you had been held. Your hands were scraped and raw, the skin broken and bleeding in places.

Your face felt gritty, as if you’d been dragged through the dirt. As you lifted a hand to touch your cheek, you could feel the rough texture of dried blood and dirt clinging to your skin. Your body aches all over, every muscle sore from the strain of whatever had been done to you. The cold dusk air bit into your exposed skin, making you shiver as you struggled to push yourself up from the ground.

The street was dimly lit, the sound of distant traffic the only sign of life around you. The once-familiar streets of Brooklyn now felt alien and hostile, and in your current state, you felt like a ghost haunting the city you once knew.

You stood there, shivering and alone, the reality of your situation sank in. Whoever had taken you had done something to you—something that had changed you. But they had deemed you a failure, or perhaps an afterthought, and simply left you to fend for yourself.

You felt stronger, different, but the overwhelming sense of abandonment weighed heavily on your heart. You looked down at your hands, trembling as you tried to comprehend what had happened to you.

Just as you began to move, your disheveled appearance caught the attention of a group of men lurking in the shadows. They saw an easy target—someone weak, vulnerable, alone. Their eyes locked onto you, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you like a predator sizing up its prey. But they had no idea what they were about to face.

“Hey, look what we got here,” one of them called out, his voice dripping with malice. He stepped forward, a smirk spreading across his face as he took in your bedraggled state. “You look like you’ve had a rough night, sweetheart.”

Another man snickered, his eyes narrowing as he moved to block your path. “Where you headed in such a hurry? We could keep you company.”

The men began to circle you, cutting off any chance of escape. Their leers and mocking laughter echoed off the walls of the alley, making your skin crawl. You backed away, your heart racing, but they kept closing in, their intent all too clear.

One of them reached out to grab your arm, but before his hand could make contact, something snapped inside you. The fear that had gripped you earlier was replaced by a cold, detached resolve. 

With a sudden burst of strength, you lashed out, your fist connecting with the man’s jaw. The impact sent him reeling backward, blood spurting from his mouth. He stumbled, crashing into a pile of trash cans with a loud clatter, his smug expression replaced by shock.

The other men hesitated, their bravado faltering as they realized you were not the helpless victim they had assumed. But their hesitation quickly turned to anger, and they surged forward, determined to make you pay for their friend’s humiliation.

But they didn’t stand a chance.

With a newfound power surging through your veins, you moved like a force of nature. You dodged their clumsy attempts to grab you, your movements fluid and precise. Every strike you landed sent them staggering back, their groans of pain filling the air.

One man lunged at you, his hands reaching for your throat, but you ducked under his grasp, spinning on your heel to deliver a powerful kick to his midsection. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of him, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.

Another man tried to grab you from behind, but you twisted out of his grip, your elbow slamming into his ribs with a sickening crack. He howled in pain, clutching his side as he fell to his knees.

The last man standing looked at you with wide, fearful eyes, his confidence shattered. “What the hell are you?” he stammered, backing away.

You stared at him, feeling that cold detachment settle over you once more. “Someone you should never have messed with,” you replied, your voice calm and steady.

Without another word, you stepped forward and struck him with a swift, powerful punch. He didn’t have time to react before he was sent crashing to the ground, unconscious.

As you stood there, surrounded by the groaning forms of the men who had tried to attack you, the reality of what you had just done began to sink in. You had taken them down with ease, without even thinking. The fear that had gripped you earlier was gone, replaced by something else—something darker, more dangerous.

You looked down at your hands, trembling slightly as you tried to process what had just happened. They were bruised and dirty, knuckles bloodied from the fight, but they were steady, powerful. You weren’t the same person who had been taken from the streets and subjected to whatever hellish experiment had been done to you.

You were stronger now, and that strength came with a cold, hard edge that scared you as much as it empowered you.

But there was no time to dwell on it. You needed to get out of there, to find somewhere safe where you could figure out what had been done to you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you began to walk away from the alley, leaving the men behind.

As you disappeared into the early morning light, the realization that you were truly alone settled in your heart. You had been discarded, left to fend for yourself. But you would survive this. You would become stronger, faster, more powerful than anyone who had ever underestimated you.

And if Steve had truly discarded you as well, if he had moved on and left you behind, then you would prove that you didn’t need him—or anyone else.

By the time the sun began to rise, you were no longer the same person who had waited at that restaurant, hoping for a fresh start. The flame that once burned brightly for Steve had turned to cold, hardened embers.

You vowed never to let anyone discard you again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you trudged through the streets, your skin a canvas of bruises and cuts, each one a testament to the brutality you had endured. The world around you seemed surreal, almost detached, as if you were walking through a twisted dream. 

People noticed you—how could they not? Their eyes lingered a fraction too long before they darted away, some filled with pity, others with fear or disgust. Concerned mothers pulled their children closer, shielding them from the sight of you as if you were a monster, something to be feared and avoided. Whispers followed you like a shadow, just out of earshot but thick with judgment, dripping with the cruelty of strangers who saw only the surface.

No one approached you. No one dared. The stares didn’t bother you. In fact, you welcomed them. Let them look, let them fear. You would not be pitied. You would not be scorned. If the world wanted to see you as a monster—then so be it. 

As you walked, a familiar part of town began to come into view. You knew these streets well, every crack in the sidewalk, every faded storefront. It had been a place of comfort, of familiarity—but now it felt foreign, like you were an intruder in a place that no longer belonged to you.

Then, through the blur of people, you saw her. Your mother. She stood on the corner, frantically handing out pieces of paper with your picture on them, her eyes scanning every face that passed by, desperate and searching

When her gaze landed on you, her expression shifted—first to shock, then to fear, relief, and heartbreak that hit you like a punch to the gut. Your heart clenched, a pang of pity slicing through the wall you’d built around yourself. You had steeled yourself against so much, but seeing her there, so fragile, so broken, was almost too much to bear.

“M-Mom?” Your voice cracked, a betrayal of the emotions you fought so hard to suppress. For a split second, you felt like yourself again, but then that cold voice in your head reminded you: no tears, no weakness.

She rushed toward you, disbelief widening her eyes, her hand trembling as she covered her mouth in shock.

“Y/N? Is that you?” she gasped, her voice trembling.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to speak as she reached out to you. Her hands, trembling, cupped your face, her touch so familiar yet so foreign. Tears welled in her eyes as she took in your appearance.

“What… what happened to you?” she whispered, her voice barely holding together.

The tears in her eyes reflected the pain you had tried so hard to bury. But you couldn’t let it out—not now. Not after everything.

“I’m fine,” you managed to say, though the words felt hollow. You pulled away from her touch, the warmth of it almost too painful to bear.

“No, you’re not,” she insisted, her voice shaking as she looked you up and down, trying to understand what had happened to her daughter. “Who did this to you? Where have you been?”

You shook your head, the emotions churning inside you too chaotic to form into coherent thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, your voice colder than you intended. “I just need to go home.”

Your mother’s brow furrowed, as she looked at you with a mother’s instinctive fear. “No, we need to take you to the hospital. You need to be checked out, Y/N. You’re hurt—”

“No!” you snapped, the force of your voice startling both of you, desperation in your tone, “No hospitals, no police report.”

“Y/N, please. You need help. We have to tell someone—”

Help? No one helped. 

“I said no!” you repeated, your voice trembling with an intensity that silenced her. “They won’t help. They’ll just ask questions, questions I can’t answer. They won’t understand, Mom. No one will.”

“But, Y/N—”

“I don’t need a doctor. I don’t need the police. I just need to go home. Please, Mom… just take me home.” Your breath came faster, panic rising in your chest as the thought of being in a hospital, of facing the police and their endless probing, became unbearable. 

Her face crumpled with worry, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as if trying to shield you from whatever had hurt you. 

Slowly, she nodded, though her worry was still palpable. “Okay. Okay, we’ll go home. But promise me… promise me that if you need help, you’ll let me know. Just… don’t shut me out.”

You nodded, but the motion felt distant, like it didn’t quite belong to you. “I promise,” you whispered, though even as the words left your mouth, they felt empty, a hollow reassurance to ease her fears.

× × × × 

The rain poured down like icy needles, but you barely felt it through your black raincoat. Across the street, through the glowing window, Steve and Peggy danced together, they danced together like a well-rehearsed melody, a song you had once known by heart but now could only hear as a distant echo. Their connection was a knife, twisting in the hollowed-out space where your heart used to be.

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as you stood there, seething. Every drop of rain that pelted against your coat felt like a reminder of the cold, hard truth—you had been replaced. Forgotten. Left to rot in the streets while he found comfort in another’s arms.

Your anger simmered, bubbling up from the depths of your chest. You had been willing to fight for him, to stand by his side no matter what. But what had that loyalty gotten you? Abandonment. Betrayal? And now, as you watched them dance, that anger solidified into something colder, harder.

“Y/L/N.” a deep commanding voice called your name.

Two officials stood in the shadows, their presence barely registering as you finally tore your gaze away from the window. They weren’t there for the party—they were there for you. Without a word, you pushed past them and joined their side.

[witchywithwhiskey]

slasher summer masterlist

summerween is over, and so is my slasher summer writing challenge. as promised, here's the masterlist of all entries in the challenge (if yours is missing, please DM me!)

thank you to everyone who participated, as well as all readers who liked, reblogged and commented on the fics!! i loved getting to read everyone's stories and see what y'all did with the prompts. you're all so creative and lovely—thank you again!!!

for readers, please heed the warnings on each individual post below, your media consumption is your responsibility. and please make sure to show your support of the writers by reblogging their work!!!

When He First Got Me by @buckets-and-trees

pairing: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing…

Dirty Little Secret by @buckys-wintersoldier

pairing: Professor!Ari Levinson x Student!Female!Reader summary: You share a dirty little secret with your professor.

In the Woods by @thezombieprostitute

pairing: James Mace x Female!Reader x Chris Beck summary: Using the prompts: Summer Camp; Sex in the Woods; You know how girls love to scream

Not A Common Storm by @nekoannie-chan

pairing: Steve Rogers x Agent of HYDRA!Reader summary: You and Steve are trapped in a storm, what would happen?

Once Upon A Friendship by @steviebbboi

pairing: Childhood Bestie!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader summary: Growing up together, you and Steve were inseparable. Where did it all go wrong?

Rosa by @perdidosbucky-yyo

pairing: Best Friend!Steve Rogers x Plus Size! Female!Reader summary: Trapped in a prison of your husband and your mother’s expectations, your only comfort is the ghost in your garden, haunted by the memory of your best friend. You thought you would never see him again but when he unexpectedly returns home from the war after 12 years, you’re not prepared for what’s to come.

A Night of Frights & Delights by @elixirfromthestars

pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader summary: It’s Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can’t stand is also there?

Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays by @buckets-and-trees

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Curvy!Female Reader summary: A first date with your neighbor Bucky Barnes.

Fool Me Once… by @dc418writes

pairing: Ari Levinson x BlackReader, Pete Brenner x BlackReader summary: Who knew grudges could be so deadly?

Slasher by @witchywithwhiskey

pairing: DARK Horror Movie Villain!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader summary: Somehow, you end up in your favorite old horror movie, and you decide to take the opportunity to fulfill one of your fantasies—you're gonna fuck the villain, Bucky Barnes.

[bunnypeew]

my sweetheart- Cooper x Fem!reader

okay so i’ve wanted to write a one shot of The Ghoul cuz he’s so funky I love him!!!! so this is an attempt to writing something that isn’t hazbin hotel heheheh :3c

the surface was something else, and for a vaultie like her it was terrible but she’ve been out and about for at least a decade now so she knew her way around. She had her fair share of partners sure, but finally after years she found the one, the perfect person for her. Coop was a ghoul, a pre war one too and for those 200 years he hadn’t found anyone after Barb, no one at all, but something about her changed his heart forever.

they met during a bounty hunt, long before the Wilzig one,, and they just so happened to bump into each other in Filly, it was definitely not normal to see a ghoul there so she got curious, she said sorry for bumping into him, tucking her hair behind her ear out of slight embarrassment

''Don't worry, I'm not gonna crumble after a slight push,,

he says smirking, lit cigarette in between his lips, takes a puff and looks back at her

''say do you by any chance know where I can find this fella here?,,

he says showing a drawing, of what seems to be a wanted poster, she looks at it carefully only to not recognise the guy and biting the top of her finger looking at the ghoul

“sadly no, but i can help you find him! i’ve had a few bounty hunts in my time,,

she says, kinda proud of herself since she hadn’t been doing that for long, and she thought she was pretty good at it

the ghoul looked her up and down, not in a rude way but it was the fact she was still wearing her vault suit, after years of not being in a vault she was still to attached to it and couldn’t take it off, of course she tweaked it a little bit with patches where holes where and some armour on top so it wasn’t in its original state

“sorry sweetheart but i don’t think a vaultie like you would ever take on of my bounties,,

she seemed a bit taken aback by his sentence but tried not to show it, she strikes a bit of a pose, hand on her hip and the other one takes the poster from his hand, gently of course

“well, try me!,,

the ghoul smirks again, taking a last puff from his cigarette then making it fall on the ground and stomping it with his boots

“sure thing,,

that was the day they met,, and since then they’ve been inseparable.

now in the present they would take bounties together all the time, but now was one of those days where they stayed home, they got a little cottage in the middle of nowhere, near enough vegetation to grow their crops

they were relaxing on their bed, she was playing on her pipboy while he was reading a book, suddenly he plops down his book and looks at her being concentrated on her game, he starts kissing the back of her head with soft little pecks making her shiver a bit but still playing the game

“hun get off your pip boy and come cuddle with me for a lil, huh?,,

he says now kissing her neck, so she decided to turn off the pipboy and give her man attention.

she turns around and gets under his arm cuddling in, then looks him in the eyes

“how lucky i am to have you Coop,,

he chuckled and looked at her kissing her nose

“I think it’s the other way around my sweetheart,,

this is a short one!! but i like it!! WE LOVE THE GHOUL RAAAAAH

[benevolentspidey]

What’re your bakudeku hcs?

honestly what are they NOT lmao

izuku cannot cook to save his life but he always feels slightly guilty because katsuki is always cooking them food, so every now and then katsuki will let him cook them lunch for work the next day and if anyone even gives a sideways glance at how truly awful their food smells during lunch, katsuki will glare daggers into them while taking mouthfuls of the stuff. he just loves to see the proud smile on izukus face when he finishes the entire meal raving about how good it was.

the one thing izuku is good at making is bread, even better than katsuki (katsuki is still totally the better bread baker but AGAIN he lies and claims he’s not great at it because he is in love and a simp for izuku and loves to make his boy happy)

katsuki took night classes on massage therapy during their lasy year at UA because he knows how bad izuku's hands and arms hurt (ESPECIALLY when the weather changes) and the only way he knows how to fix it is by massaging them. (he literally has to force izuku to sit down and let him because he’ll deny it till he’s blue in the face that he's in any pain)

they have codependency issues so bad after the war that they’re literally inseparable for WEEKS before adults intervene and force them into therapy. like they have some part of their body touching each other at all times type of separation anxiety. (the final straw was when aizawa walked into the dorm kitchen to find katsuki giving izuku a piggyback ride while he walked all about in the kitchen trying to cook dinner for the class. izuku was passed out taking a nap during the whole ordeal.)

katsuki always washes izukus hair and does his curly hair haircare routine because no matter how many time he takes izuku through it, he always manages to fuck it up on his own.

Izuku pretends to be bad at it on purpose because he loves katsuki washing his hair he finds it hilarious that katsuki hasn’t figured it out yet

katsuki knows

they never outright confirm to the media if they’re dating or not, they don’t do PDA a whole lot, but they’re close enough that questions and rumors run wild. even when the media outright asks them they’re so vague it’s actually annoying

‘dynamight, what are your feelings towards deku?’ ‘right now? pretty fucking pissed he took down the villain right as I was closing in on him. took all the lime light away from me, the fucker.’

'hero deku! how are you and dynamight going to celebrate his new ranking in the hero chart? I'm sure it's going to be... explosive.' 'I think we're all going out with our former class mates for dinner or drinks or something. And kacchan is really good at controlling his quirk, so there's not going to be any unnecessary explosions, thats why he made it into the top 10!'

they are literally REQUIRED by their government issued therapist to not engage in PDA because:

1. their therapist is damn good at their job and knows the media coverage and public opinion on their relationship will send the pair of them into a tailspin and 

2. engaging in PDA will increase their codependency issues

They have a love-hate relationship with their therapist

the first time they argue after they get together is literally over groceries. because katsuki and izuku didn’t have any semblance of a friendship when they got to their teen years, katsuki didn’t see the midoriyas growing struggle with money. so when bakugo comes back from the store spending an extortionate amount on groceries that should've cost like ¥20,000 and he comes back having spent over ¥70,000 , izuku goes on an anxiety induced lecture about how careless katsuki was with their money, katsuki gets PISSED because he’s not careless and it spirals out of control until izuku finally burst out with ‘what are we gonna eat when all the food runs out and we have no more money’ and then, shocked and having no idea where izuku would that impression from has them sit down to have a conversation (okay actually i need someone to make this into a fic. shit i think i might make this into fic)

katsuki has a soft spot for mange-y and abandoned cats and will bring them home and take care of them until they're fully healed before rehoming them.

Izuku would never tell katsuki this, but he is very allergic to cats. He would rather die though than tell him and ruin his rehoming hobby.

izukus guilty pleasure is trash reality tv. (im talking like KUWTK and jersey shore type of trash reality tv) katsuki rolls his eyes at it and will tease izuku over it, but izuku will always find him standing behind the couch watching it while izuku is binging watching the episodes he's missed.

katsuki's love language is definitely words of affirmation but like done in the right way (aka the deku way) and physical touch (and also acts of service but it really depends on the person and the day)

izukus is acts of service and quality time (literally, katsuki will just sit next to him on the couch and let him ramble and ramble about what ever is in his notebook or on his mind for hours and izuku gets so much joy and love from that one small action)

i will fight tooth and nail for this take but katsuki is NOT the space heater everyone thinks he is. he's got very warm hands because of his quirk but out of the pair of them, izuku is the hot box when they're sleeping.

even though one of katsuki's love languages is physical touch he doesn't like people touching him or being in his personal space. besides izuku, the only other person allowed in his personal space is surprisingly todoroki

here's just a few headcanons i have. i'll probably add to this at different points because i definitely have more i just haven't ever written them down before

[callmegaith]

I want to know more about your rebels. From the art I've seen, they look very interesting. Tell me more!

ANON 😭😭 THATS SO SWEET OF YOU THANK U SM!!

Well, there are 4 characters that make up a squad. You have:

Pete:

The muscle of the group. He's a hot-head with a shotgun. Pete is the character I use to explore the world of HL the most, since he's the one character I can truly call an oc. He used to be a bit of a scardy cat growing up but when the war happened, being isolated and removed from his family and being forced to work for the combine, his fear turned to anger, and he's got A LOT of it. A bit too much, in fact. The moment they put a gun in his hands and he's had a little bit of that power trip taste, it was over. He no longer had a reason to feel helpless and be scared of the combine, now with his trusty shotgun, he could get up close and personal and make them go bye bye, which he probably likes an unhealthy amount. In his head, though, he thinks it's fine. He's fighting for the good guys, after all. He's doing the right thing. So his violence is justified. And that's sorta the central plot of his character "when do you become the same monster as the ones that hurt you?" Hurt people hurt people, and Pete has been hurt a lot. Though, he believes he's different because unlike the Combine, he loves and cares. The combine wouldn't know what that means, so in a way, his love for Nate and humanity in general, is what he believes keeps him from becoming as bad as the Combine.

Nate:

Nate is the youngest in the squad and the most naive. All he wants to do, really, is survive this whole thing. He just wants to see the sunrise on a brand new day where the Combine no longer exist on earth. He's pretty optimistic about it too which Pete and Marcel often disagree with but ya know, let the man dream. He's the chill laid back joker of the group and the life of the party. The most social out of them but not necessarily the best talker... And he talks... A lot. Like, nonstop. Marcel thinks it's because he's constantly trying to fill his mind with other stuff other than their shitty situation cuz the moment he shuts up he's gonna have to think about it and he's going to collapse. So they just let him ramble. He's a big fan of collecting things (both he and Pete are but he started their collection) some might even view him as a hoarder. Like you'd find him collecting pizza boxes and other useless things simply because... Well, those things don't exist now. They're "relics" of a life pre-war. And he finds that interesting, it brings him comfort even.

Marcel and Kit:

2 for one, those two cannot be separated (for Marcel's own good)

Marcel is the medic of the group. He's the oldest in the squad and the most pessimistic. Kit met Marcel when he found him dying on the ground (that's a comic you may or may not have read. I'll link the comics at the end of the ask) after saving his life, the two became inseparable. Marcel is in a very dark place mentally and thus has become extremely fragile. If you ask him, he'd tell you he's not suicidal, he just wouldn't mind not waking up the next day. Kit keeps Marcel safe, both from the Combine, zombies, and whatever threats, but also from himself. Kit wants to give Marcel purpose and a reason to keep living, something to make the days easier to get through, and becoming a medic was that for Marcel. He gets to save lives and it gives him a sense of meaning. It doesn't make him value his own life or anything, but he's at least living to do something good.

Marcel might come off as hostile and aggressive or just very uncaring but, in fact, he cares a lot. You just have to get past his nonchalantness and dig pretty deep to find that part of him. Kit understands he's probably just building walls to protect himself. He doesn't want anyone getting close so no one would miss him when he's gone. But obviously that doesn't work cuz, lmao, Kit ignores that. Tbh Kit doesn't need to bind life force with Marcel to die if Marcel dies. If Marcel dies Kit will likely just die of a broken heart.

That aside, Marcel finds Kit's views on life very intriguing, he's very interested in the Vort philosophical approach to life and death, and the way they form bonds, more spiritually than anything else. And he does end up having that bond with Kit, something so connected to what feels like a greater and higher thing than they are. So cosmic in its nature that it is hard to comprehend. To him, there's something so beautiful and profound about that. It's the idea that one day they will be embraced by that greater thing, so they may become a part of it, but it will happen when their time comes and they're called upon by the cosmos. He's just waiting for that day to come now.

If you'd like to see more of the characters you'll find everything under the tag (HL: change begins with us) or specific characters under: ( oc: Pete, Nate as male 07, Marcel as male 09, kit the Vortigaunt)

If you haven't seen the comics and wanna give em a read:

This is one lore dump and a half but hope you find it interesting, anon. :D again, thank u sm for your interest and curiosity. It means a lot to me!!

[sad-trash-hobo]

If you really think about it. Bucky went missing at the end of winter soldier, and then 2(?) Years later, they found him during civil war. Then he immediately goes into cryofreeze after that. Sam and Steve go on the run for 2 years, and then come back to Wakanda for infinite war, and Steve sees bucky again. But was that the first time he saw Bucky again? And then Bucky gets snapped and is gone for 5 years, and then he comes back, and almost immediately, Steve goes back in time.

So, if Steve did visit Bucky in Wakanda, assuming that Bucky was under for even just 6 months, that's really only 1 and a half years that Steve could visit him. And in that amount of time Steve just? Got over the fact that Bucky was back. After finding Bucky and going into shock over the realization and letting Bucky kill him, because Steve didn't know he was gonna live, he fully expected to die, and then he just. Maybe visited him? And then lost him again and was depressed over it and then finally got Bucky back, but there's no big scene for their reunion. I'd even say that his reunion with Sam was more important, and I love Sam, but focusing on Bucky right now.

Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battle field, Bucky was the only commando to give his life in service. And then per Steve's timeline, not even 10 years later, maybe 3 years for Bucky, he just. Leaves Bucky.

[lizzie-is-here]

lonely is a man without love

part i- the mission

“and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness.” - mahmoud darwish

summary: you’re an ex-black widow, assigned to observe marc spector. instead, you find steven grant

wordcount: 1.4k

warnings: language, violence, idk british people?

a/n: and so it begins again :)))) this series won’t be very long, but i’m gonna have fun with a black widow reader. if you’d like to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask! love you, hope you enjoy! <3333

taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope

series masterlist | next part

“Britain? Come on, Rogers, seriously?”

You groan as you throw the file down on the kitchen counter. After several months of recovering from all of the shit with the Blip, Thanos, Tony’s recovery, and catching up after being fucking dust for five years, you finally got to go back on missions.

And they send you to fucking. Britain. London, to be more specific.

“Steve, the food is absolute shit. They eat like they’re still rationing their food for the war,” you rant. The man raises a brow at the mention of his past, but shrugs.

“It’s something easy to start you back up. We can’t send you guns blazing into space.” He sets a yogurt bowl and some fruit in front of you. “Eat your breakfast.”

You roll your eyes, thanking him as you grab the food. “Thanks, grandpa.” You flip through the file. “Who’s the mark?”

“Not a mark, a target,” Nat corrects.

You shrug. “Same thing.”

“He’s some vigilante called Marc Spector,” she says without looking up from her phone. She’s texting Yelena, no doubt. Likely planning the younger girl’s visit. You haven’t seen her since your own escape from the Red Room, but you’re more than thrilled to meet up.

The two of you had been inseparable, even with Dreykov’s strict rule. And now that Nat had gotten into contact with her again, it was only a matter of time before you got together to cause trouble.

And make mac and cheese. ‘Lena made really good mac and cheese.

“He used to be in the Army, but went AWOL and started working as a merc,” she continues. “Seems enhanced.”

Shoveling the yogurt into your mouth, you narrow your eyes. “So is this, like, a ‘Clint-style-recruitment’ situation or a ‘beat-his-ass’ situation?”

Steve hesitates, considering the question. “Uh, depends. Entirely up to you.”

“Great, you’re very prepared.” You set the bowls in the sink. “So, how long until I fly out?”

———————————————————————

You’re good at your job. Amazing, really. And you know it.

Of course you are. The Red Room didn’t make second-bests, and you’d been cycled through three separate times. You and Yelena headed missions, racked up kills, and obliterated organizations with ease.

When Nat had destroyed the Red Room back in 2016 and Yelena, Alexei, and Melina had left to free the other widows, the redhead offered you a place with the Avengers. You weren’t stupid, so you’d accepted.

Then you’d disappeared in Wakanda and woken up five years later.

This was very jarring (no shit), so the team had ordered a 3-month recovery for anyone who had been dusted.

No one else seemed very enthusiastic to get back to missions, but you were.

So, when you touch down in a bustling airport, you send the jet back to the compound, grab your ID, and sling your bag over your shoulder. TSA lets you by with ease, despite the absurd amount of weapons you have, and you work on blending in with the crowd until you can reach your rented motorcycle.

Your Russian accent makes it a bit hard, but you manage a convincing enough Cockney accent to slip under the radar.

Now to find the target. Your coordinates lead you to a small apartment building (you will NOT call them flats), and a fake enough smile and forged documents gets you a flat one floor above the target room.

Huffing as you unpack, you set out countless guns, knives, and weapons that would really suck to be killed by. A loud thump resonates from the floor.

You slip one gun into your waistband and a knife in your boot before listening closely. Annoyed British mumbling follows.

“Oh, jeez, I’ve gotta clean up. This is such a mess…”

That doesn’t sound like a mercenary. Maybe he’ll surprise you, you suppose.

You sneak down the stairs, finding the correct apartment and raising your hand to the door. A quick but effective knock later, the door opens.

“Uh, hi?” The guy is cute. A bit disheveled, but when you peer inside his home, you see no weapons, no signs of a violent hobby.

“Hi,” you greet, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “My name is (Y/N), I just moved into the apartment upstairs. Figured I’d greet my new neighbors.”

He looks shocked. “Oh, I didn’t know we were getting any new residents. It’s nice to meet you.” You notice that his accent seems a bit… off. “I’m sorry if I’m not the most quiet neighbor. I’ve got a sleep disorder.”

You nod, noting his posture and how close he holds his hands to his body. He notices your silence and jumps.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I’m Steven Grant. I work at the London Museum.”

Luckily, the team took enough precedence to give you a fake job. After explaining that you worked from home doing digital marketing, you exchange goodbyes and head back upstairs.

“Ах, дерьмо [Ah, shit],” you sigh, collapsing on the bed. Yes, you’re thrilled to be back in the game, but this?

This was a waiting game, not a hunt-down-a-target-and-snipe-them-from-the-roof kind of game.

And you’ve never been patient.

———————————————————————

It’s a long month, even with Steven becoming your sort-of friend. You’ve scouted out his routine, polished your weapons, and even kept some muggers off his tail.

After visiting him at the museum, you’ve discovered his passion for Egyptology. He knows more than the guides, but is confined to the souvenir shop by his asshole boss.

You offer to kill her, only half joking, and he declines. It’s a shame.

But you’re starting to think he’s the wrong guy.

He lacks any basic survival skills, much less any fighting prowess. A dude held him at knifepoint and he gave him his wallet and phone. Luckily, you’d been just around the corner to grab the guy and knock him on his ass with little fuss.

“Holy shit, how’d you do that?” Steven had asked, gratefully taking back his things. The thief had booked it after you’d judo-flipped him and tugged his arm hard enough to dislocate.

“Do what?” you’d asked, watching him laugh.

He had waved a hand down the street. “Beat that guy up! You were flipping everywhere, and-“

It was your turn to laugh. “I did lots of martial arts as a kid. Good to know they’re coming in handy.”

It’s not a lie. Not really.

Despite Steven’s apparent innocence, you’re still suspicious. There’s always noise in the apartment below you, and the door will open and slam shut at odd hours. When you inquire about it, your target/friend (it’s complicated) claims to have no idea.

Except he’s telling the truth. You know when someone’s lying to you. You’ve never been wrong. And Steven isn’t lying.

He really doesn’t know anything about the sounds from his own flat.

One day, you’re sitting at your table with mac and cheese and polishing your favorite knife, when the door below you shuts. A voice comes up from the floorboards, like it does so often.

Instead of Steven’s fishy British accent talking to himself about Egypt or his goldfish, something else comes up.

That’s a Chicago accent.

You shove a gun into the waistband of your sweatpants, hurrying down the stairs. Without hesitation, you pick the lock and kick open the door.

Clicking the safety off of your gun and gripping it with both hands, you step in the apartment.

“Shit,” you whisper, real accent slipping through as you revert to your training.

You clear the main room of the apartment, methodical and precise.

A sound comes from the bathroom and you see the familiar figure. Hiding your gun, you sigh in relief.

You lean against the wall. “Sorry, I thought someone else was in-“

The man whips around, clearly shocked you’re there. He grabs a knife.

Oh, shit.

When he lunges forward, you dodge, grab his wrist, elbow his shoulder to loosen his grip, and grab the tactical knife. With a flick of the wrist, you lodge it in the door you just picked.

“Who are you?” the man demands, readying his fists. He looks like Steven, but acts like the complete opposite.

His posture is confident, tall. He glares at you through the sweat and blood on his face.

“My name is (Y/N), I know Steven?” The man sighs, annoyed.

“Great. Fucking great, now there’s a civilian involved.” You don’t bother to correct him.

You wave your hands around. “Well, who are you? Why are you from Chicago?”

“Why are you Russian?”

“I asked first!”

“Fine, fine.” He raises his hands in surrender. “I’m Marc. Spector.”

Your target. The file scrolls through your mind. Ex-Marine, high ranking. Went AWOL and reportedly killed a whole team of archeologists and researchers. Born March 9, 1987. Not dusted. Suspected enhanced, unknown powers.

This just got a lot more complicated.

[roostersmustache]

Reflections of Who We Used to Be

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Author's Note: It's been a while! I don't know if anyone will be reading this, but I am gonna post it anyways! I've had this idea brewing for a little bit, so I thought, why not give it a write? Let me know what you think!

Synopsis: Sigrid and Loki had everything. Love, marriage, a beautiful daughter on the way...but then everything got ripped right under her feet when Loki was killed in the Infinity War. But one day, Loki comes waltzing back into her life, except this Loki isn't the one that left her.

or

Loki comes back to his spot in the timeline, but this Loki doesn't remember living the events after his attack on New York City. He just remembers the TVA.

Warnings: Swearing, adult themes, angst, possible MCU spoilers, possible Loki spoilers, probably not entirely accurate.

Word Count: 2.5K

Masterlist

Sigrid grew up lonely. She had no siblings, and she always had a harder time than others her age when it came to making friends. Her school was small, she went to a small private school in Asgard, one reserved for those in families of higher power. Her father was high ranking in Asgard's army, practically Odin's right hand man. It was no surprise to anyone when she was placed in her school.

She excelled in school, constantly awing her instructors with her mind, always one step ahead than the rest in her class. But when it came to magic, she was weak. Sigrid was diagnosed with a condition called POTS at the age of five. Because of this, her body has never been strong enough to fully support the magic she wished she had.

Loki and her met when she was in her second year of school, and he was in his fourth. She was seven and he was nine. They met in the library, her face was nose deep in a book that he wanted to read, and instead of telling him, the weird prince, to go away like everyone else, she offered that they read it together. They've been inseparable ever since.

When they got to middle school, they were both there to experience each others first crushes, so they decided to help each other out and be each others first kiss. Just for practice. Loki wanted to be able to tell Thor he had also kissed a girl.

From then on, they were there for each other when one another got their heart broken. They exchanged books, Loki helped Sigrid with her magic, and they made each other feel less lonely. Loki had always felt like an outcast, and Sigrid had always been lonely. They filled that gap for one another.

However, after high school, Loki discovered his true parentage, thus sparking a downward spiral for him, taking everyone else with him. His mind had never been so dark and cold, so vulnerable. Sigrid was there for him, and she was just what he needed, a shoulder to cry on. Loki felt everyone else around him had begun to push him away, afraid of the monster he truly was. But not Sigrid. Never Sigrid.

But this revelation left his mind vulnerable enough for dark forced to enter it, and enter it they did.

It took too much convincing, and too many analysis' of Loki for Odin to finally believe that he had been under the influence of a dark force when he attacked New York. Loki felt it was pointless to fight the old man on it, but Thor and Sigrid had insisted.

Loki was under the influence of Thanos, and while under that spell, he had killed many innocent people and destroyed lots of the city. No one on Earth would ever comfortably welcome him back, but the people of Asgard would have to learn to. Loki knew he was seen as even more of a monster now, and that fact pushed him deeper into his darkness than he had been before.

While not under the influence of Thanos, Loki was still broken. He was dealing with the guilt of what he had done, and the realization that he would forever be seen as a monster was at the forefront of his mind. In a fight against the Dark Elves, Loki had faked his death. His mother, Frigga had been killed, and Loki was the most heartbroken he had ever been. Sigrid was devastated when Thor came back and said Loki was gone. The grief she had felt during that time was insufferable.

She drowned in her sadness everyday, and her magic had never been weaker. She fainted more often than normal, her POTS getting worse, and it was during this time that she discovered she loved Loki. She always had loved Loki. But this was the most real thing she had ever felt, and she couldn't do anything with it, because he was gone.

But then he came back one day, a couple months later, and Sigrid swears she's never been so angry in her life. He apologized profusely to her, claiming he needed to get away to stop hurting the people around him, but she didn't care. He left her, and they had promised to never leave each other. He knew she'd mourn him. She called him selfish, and the two didn't speak for another two weeks.

The first time they spoke after that, he told her he loved her. She told him she loved him. He promised he'd never leave her again.

The rest is history.

A year later, the two got married, a wedding that some supported and some did not. Many people still thought Loki was a monster and that he would never change. But those who really knew him knew that wasn't the case.

Their marriage was filled with such joy and happiness for the both of them. They brought out the best in one another, and Sigrid helped people see that Loki wasn't the monster they all thought he was. Sigrid had never been happier, and it was quite obvious to everyone. The girls who used to tease her in school now bowed down to her as their princess, and the boys that bullied her now wished they had her.

And Loki. Sigrid thought Loki looked better the older he got. When his hair reached his shoulders, she was a goner. He was so handsome, and it seemed that the rest of the kingdom had started to notice too. Palace workers would tell him it was "alright if he needed a break from his wife," and shoot a wink his way. Sigrid would have to excuse herself to simmer off, but Loki would remind her just how devoted he was to her every night.

After a couple years of being married, Sigrid found out she was pregnant. She had kept waking up sick, and sure enough, it's because she was expecting. Loki had been overjoyed, terrified, but overjoyed. Sigrid didn't think she could love her husband more, but the promise of him being a father left a flutter in her stomach she didn't know she could have.

They had already begun prepping their nursery, keeping it as gender neutral as possible, as they wouldn't discover the babies gender until they were born. Sigrid found a new hobby in making her old baby clothes, and Loki would hold her belly and sing to her every night. She was living in a bubble of bliss.

But every bubble pops at some point.

Thor and Loki had heard about the threat of Ragnarok, and at first Sigrid didn't believe in it, but then Loki and Thor returned from a place called Sakaar and informed her that it was very real, and definitely going to happen. While they were in Sakaar, their sister Hela, whom none of them knew about, had totally taken over Asgard, and had even kept Sigrid hostage in the castle. Sigrid was surprised Hela didn't kill her, but she also knew she was being used as leverage to get the princes back to Asgard.

Those few days where she was under Hela's control in Asgard were Sigrid's own personal hell, literally. She was paraded around like a prize, dangling over the Asgardian's heads. Heimdall came to her rescue, sneaking in one night and taking her with him, where they sought safety with the other Asgardian's.

The next day, Thor came back with Banner and Valkyrie, and Sigrid started to worry when Loki wasn't with them. Especially since Hela's army of the dead and her massive dog, Fenrir, were surrounding them on the bridge. But Loki did show up, he showed up on a massive ship, and suddenly everything was better.

Sigrid rushed to give him a hug, but he urgently rushed her on the ship, not willing to risk hers and their babies life. Sigrid watched from inside with hundreds of Asgardians as her husband, Thor, and Valkyrie all defeated Hela and Asgard burned to the ground. It was a bittersweet feeling, watching home collapse but also knowing everyone was safe.

Sigrid thought the chaos was over there, finally feeling relieved that they were finally en route to somewhere to rebuild. She was already thinking about her new home wit Loki, what the new nursery would look like. They settled on Earth, but as they were on the way there, they came across an enemy ship.

Sigrid begged and begged Loki not to go check it out with everyone else, but he insisted. She then begged to come with him, but he refused. Any other time he would've loved her companionship, but carrying their child was not something he was willing to put on the line.

Sigrid cried to him to not go, she had a horrible feeling, but he insisted he had to for the good of their people. They told each other they loved each other and kissed goodbye, and he promised he'd be right back.

He promised he'd be right back.

But Loki didn't come back. Loki never came back. Thor came back a different man, and all he could utter was that Loki was gone. Sigrid felt a type of pain she hadn't ever felt in her life. Even when she thought Loki was dead the first time, it had never felt this way. She thinks it's because a part of her always knew he was never dead, but she knew this was real. Even as she screamed at Thor and told him he was faking it, she knew it was real.

While Thor and Loki were confronting Thanos in the first place, several of Thanos' "children," as he called them, killed hundreds of Asgardian's, and only about a hundred made it out alive.

Thor had found them in Norway, and he came with Loki's body. Sigrid had shook her husband and wailed at him to wake up, to stop playing tricks. It wasn't funny. This wasn't the time to joke.

But it was no joke.

A few short months later, Sigrid gave birth to their daughter without him. Sigrid took one look at their daughter and decided to name her Frigga, after Loki's mother whom he loved dearly.

Frigga became the light in Sigrid's life that she had been missing, though she wished more than anything that Loki was there with her. She found him everywhere; in the wind and the way it put a breeze in her hair, in the green hue of the mountains surrounding their new home, New Asgard as they called it, and in the rain, Loki's favorite weather.

Sigrid found her days spent distracting herself with baking. She decided, not long after she had Frigga, to open a bakery in town, just a couple blocks from her home. Thor decided to live with her and Frigga, offering support that Sigrid was endlessly grateful for.

She, and the rest of her people, picked her life back up piece by piece. Her bakery flourished, Frigga was happy, and she slowly started to properly mourn her husband, taking forever to fully accept that he was gone. She visited his grave everyday and talked to him, it brought her peace. Once Frigga was old enough to understand, she brought her with her.

Frigga knew her father to be a hero. Her uncle and her mother did a great job painting that picture for her, and she went to school and bragged about him. Frigga inherited everything about him. She had his long, black hair and piercing blue eyes, and, much to her mothers awe and dismay, his magic.

The first sign she had Loki's magic was when she could turn inanimate objects into snakes. Sigrid had screamed, and then laughed, thrilled that her daughter had her father's magic touch. Now, at age eight, she was able to shape-shift into small animals herself. She could also make herself invisible, manipulate other objects, and read peoples memories with the touch of her hand on their head. Just like her father.

Frigga followed her mother to the bakery everyday that she didn't have school. She had become quite the baker herself, and Sigrid loved having her help.

Today was no different, it was a Friday and Frigga had run to her mothers bakery as soon as she got out of school. Sigrid let her bake some brownies before starting on her homework, and then it was homework before she could help again.

Sigrid had spent the day making various cakes before her daughter had come. Now that she had sent Frigga off to her designated desk in the back to do homework, she was going to start on some lemon bars. The store had been running slow today, and with no customer in sight she had decided to make some treats to pass the time.

She was really feeling pop music recently, and had it blasting through the store as she worked, powder fresh on her face. She was singing along to the newest song on her shuffle when she realized she needed more sugar, running to fetch some from the back.

While she was back there she made sure Frigga was on track with her homework, receiving an annoyed scoff from her daughter. She just rolled her eyes and lightly tapped her on the head before moving back out to her baking table.

She heard the bell ring on her front door, signaling customers, and she hollered at them that she'd be right out. She was almost finished cutting up another lemon, when she heard them start to talk. She could make out three separate voices, a woman with an accent, a man with no accent who mentioned key lime pie, and finally...

Sigrid stopped her motions all together, almost cutting herself with her knife. That third voice was one she hadn't heard in almost nine years, but one that she could surely recognize in a crowd of millions. It was deep, sultry, and had a thick accent. It was the voice she had fallen utterly in love with. And as if no time had passed between the last time she heard that voice and now, it carried her towards it like a magnet.

She scrambled to reach the front of the shop, her skin feeling icy hot and her heart hammering in her chest. She reached the front counter and her throat went dry. When was the last time she had a POTS spell?

As she looked up she was gasping for air, and her vision was going blurry. But she'd recognize those eyes, that hair, anywhere. She felt a tear roll down her face.

"Loki?"

She fainted.

~~

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know! Likes, comments, and of course reblogs are always welcome and appreciated!

[the-bau-quinjet]

Timeless

Summary: Steve breaks up with singer!reader because he doesn't want to hold her back. He starts to question everything after hearing the song she wrote for him.

Warnings: life in the Instagram era

word count: 4695

a/n: 100000% inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift. i did not proofread this bc I am lazy so I do apologize for whatever typos there are

Masterlist

"I just don't get it," Steve overheard the young women talking while waiting in line for coffee. "She could literally be with anyone and she's gonna pick some old guy who literally fought in World War II?" He already had an idea of where this was going, but the response confirmed his fears.

"I know! Like Steve Rogers is hot but that's so weird! He's like 100 years old," she scoffed.

"A man out of time and probably out of touch," the first replied. "I bet he's totally holding her back."

Steve decided to forgo his coffee, simply turning around and leaving before things could get more awkward for him. Dating you has actually been when he's felt most at home in this century, but that doesn't mean he no longer struggles with his new present day.

Hardly a day goes by without you or someone else having to explain something to him, whether it be an insignificant reference to some tv show or more important information on how certain technology works. Suffice it to say, he feels like his age does show. It's something you've talked about in your relationship, but clearly, something Steve still struggles with.

He decided to walk back to the tower using the time to really think about what was best for you in terms of being with him. The first day the two of you met had been a particularly bad one for Steve, but somehow you managed to cheer him up. You've basically been inseparable since.

The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that those women were right. He was holding you back. You spend so much time with him, and at the tower in general, that you haven't really been living the same way you were before.

Before you met Steve, you had just finished your first world tour. You were always traveling or in and out of the studio. Now, you spend all your time in New York and you haven't had so much as a single performance outside of New York in the two and a half years you've been with him.

As he walked the last few steps up to the tower, Steve had already made his decision.

-

You were practically bouncing up and down on the couch as you waited for Steve to get home. After months of writing and recording in the home studio Tony set up for you, you could finally surprise Steve with some new songs. The one you were most excited about hadn't even been recorded yet. You were just too excited to share the lyrics to wait.

You couldn't help but reminisce as you waited, thinking about the first time you'd ever met. After your tour, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep, but Tony had personally invited you to his latest gala and your manager really pushed for you to go. Turns out, it was the best decision of your life.

The sound of the door opening down the hall broke you out of your daydream. The telltale sounds of Steve hanging up his jacket and tossing his keys in the dish by the door confirmed your suspicions.

You nearly tripped over the coffee table in your effort to greet him, but the look on his face stopped you dead in your tracks. "Steve?" you asked. "Are you okay?"

He sighed in response, one hand running through his hair as he looked at the ground. After a few seconds, he managed to meet your eye, but it did nothing to ease the nerves you were now feeling.

"Did something happen?" you asked just as he spoke up.

"We should break up."

His words felt like a physical blow in the silence that followed. You leaned back into the arm of the couch, suddenly unsure of everything.

"What?" you barely breathed out the question. The emotional whiplash was too confusing to process this quickly.

"I just, I don't think we should stay together. I wish I had more to say, but that's it." Steve cut straight to the bone, his own heart breaking. Still, he thought it was for the best.

"Oh," you barely managed to reply, still reeling from the shock. "Um, okay. I'll just... I'll just go."

You walked blindly down the hall and out the door, not even considering what you would do with all of your things that were in the apartment. You didn't even grab your purse, so you couldn't realistically leave the tower. Instead, you headed straight for the studio.

It felt like if you were recording a song about Steve, you could pretend that conversation didn't just happen. You could live in the past for just another few hours before reality finally hit you.

You still had the music pulled up in the recording booth. You'd gone so far as to take out some of the most inspiring pictures that lead to this song. There were plenty of pictures of you and Steve, but also the old black and white photos you found in the antique shop.

Thankfully Tony set things up so you could record on your own if you wanted, so that's exactly what you did.

Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in...

-

Instead of facing your emotions head-on, you dove into your work. You recorded every song you had left for the album, only contacting your manager and the label when things were finished.

They had a few things to tweak, but the record was ready not even two weeks later. Since you'd already been teasing the songs on tik tok, your label agreed to a surprise release. Thirteen songs would be released at the end of the week.

With the album ready and the date picked, you switched focus to scheduling performances at award shows and TV interviews. Anything to keep you from the gutwrenching reality of your emotions.

- Steve wasn't doing much better. His mood was foul and everybody could tell. Seeing as you were avoiding everyone by staying in an apartment owned by your label, the team tried cornering Steve for information.

"What the hell happened with Y/N?" Nat finally asked when Steve brushed off the slightly less invasive questions about how he was doing. He simply shook his head, glaring at an unphased Natasha.

"Have you listened to her new album?" Sam asked, trying to break the tension before all hell broke loose.

Steve tensed at the mention of your music. He had not listened to it, but the mere existence sent him into a spiral. In his eyes, it proved his point. Two and a half weeks without him and you were already releasing music. Something you hadn't done in the two and a half years you'd been together.

"Just leave me alone," he all but begged. Listening to the songs he knew- or at least strongly expected- would be about him was too much to even consider. He shook off the questions with the sheer desperation in his eyes. Everyone could tell it was hitting him hard, but not knowing why they broke up made it difficult to try and help.

-

Things continued much the same for the next month. Steve avoided all things that reminded him of you. You worked every second you could, desperate to not have to think about how everything went wrong.

In those few moments when you had actually thought about Steve, you more than anything wanted to know why. It had gotten so far as to you hovering your finger over his contact, one split second from calling when your manager phoned you instead.

"Hello," you answered, desperately trying to hide the strain from your voice.

"They want you to perform at the Grammy's," your manager, Gina, wasted no time with pleasantries.

"Oh my god," you didn't know how to feel. "That's in three days!" This album meant so much to you, but it was entirely about falling and being in love with Steve. How could you perform one of your best love songs on one of the biggest stages in music with a broken heart?

"Do they want a specific song?" Somehow your mind kept working even though your heart was breaking all over again.

"You get to choose," Gina continued to gush, but you couldn't listen. Having to choose was almost worse. You managed to tune back in for the last bit of information. "I know it's weird because you're not nominated, but nobody expected Rihanna to have to pull out. The news is her baby is the picture of health though! Since this is so last minute, they need to know what song the day after tomorrow for scheduling purposes."

"I'll do Timeless," you blurted out. Having to make the decision would be the worst part, right? So now you can just prepare and deal with it.

"You sure?" she asked, wary of it being one of the most detailed love songs on the album.

"Yep!" The enthusiasm was easy to fake. You were excited to perform at the Grammy's, and this is the song you're most proud of. It'll be fine.

"I'll let them know! Check your email for the itinerary. Bye!" she hung up in a flash, leaving you alone with your thoughts again.

Steve's contact was still pulled up on your phone. It felt like it was mocking you. Of course, Timeless would be the song you blurt out in a panic. It was the one you were most excited for him to hear. You can't imagine he's listened to the album. He might not even know it was released. A Grammy's performance was the closest to a guarantee that he'd hear it.

Now you just had to practice singing as if it wasn't going to emotionally wreck you.

-

"We've been invited to the Grammy's," Tony burst into the room with no preamble.

"Who's we?" Sam asked, already planning the suit he would wear in his mind.

"Four of us, bird brain," Tony replied swiftly. "Normally I'd be all over this, but I promised Morgan I would build her big girl bed with her tomorrow, so I'm stuck. You all have to go."

Nat, Sam, and Bucky all seemed okay with the invitation, and in Sam's case mildly excited. Steve, on the other hand, scowled at Tony. He was only about 60% sure the Grammy's were for music, but if the 60% was right he would rather go on a mission in Antarctica than potentially be in the same building as Y/N right now.

"I don't wanna hear it, Capsicle." Tony read the look on his face. "Four of us have to be there, and as our fearless leader that means you. Friday will send the details." He walked out much the same way he walked in, with a dramatic flair that left no room for questions.

"I guess we're going to the Grammy's," Nat cut a look across the room to Steve, gauging his reaction.

"So we are," he mumbled, quickly leaving the room before anyone could ask him about you.

-

Getting ready in your apartment was the only thing holding you together. Gina came over early this morning to lay out the details of your dress, hair, makeup, and any last-minute accessory decisions.

"You ready for this?" she asked, buzzing with excitement. The car would be here to pick you up any minute.

"As I'll ever be," you shakily replied. Despite making the decision quickly, you'd yet to settle the reality of performing the song in front of a crowd with how it felt to record it alone in a booth.

"Well, you can shake off those last few nerves right now. You're gonna be amazing. Remember, you're toward the end of the show. I guess you'll be a break from the nominated artists just before they announce album of the year, okay?"

You merely nodded in response, still trying to get over the nerves. You followed her down to the car, going over the lyrics in your head. Repetition was your best bet to stave off any emotional outbursts during the actual performance.

-

Steve had barely said a word all day, choosing instead to just float through the day. He wore the suit presented to him with no questions asked. He followed the schedule Friday had given him to a tee. He left no room for conversation, the glare on his face deterring any small talk.

He looked up the list of performers in an attempt to see if Y/N would be there, but she wasn't listed. The only thing causing him worry was the "surprise guest" that had been invited to replace Rihanna, who had to pull out of performing because she had a baby a few days ago. The amount of detail about other people's lives on the internet still surprised Steve sometimes, but he was glad to hear she was doing well- whoever she was.

He managed to hold it together through the red carpet, hearing whispers from the crowds that strung his and your name together. That was one of the things that drew the two of you together. It may have been a different kind of attention, but you both had faces the general public might recognize. Being the center of attention was never the goal for either of you, so your relationship remained largely private.

"Weird that he didn't walk the carpet with Y/N..." one guest whispered. Steve's enhanced hearing meant he could still pick up the voices. It was almost as if he was involuntarily listening for your name and honing in on the conversation.

"I mean, they've always been private... unless, do you think they broke up?" the responder gasped. Steve felt his heartbeat increase, being the subject of rumors and gossip never sat well with him.

"But this whole album is so happy! Maybe she-"

Steve was pulled inside before he could hear the rest. Probably for the best, he thought. Now that he knew you were here, he needed to focus on avoiding you.

Apparently, that wouldn't be hard. He and his fellow Avengers assigned seats were much further back than the musicians that were invited or nominated. He could see you from his seat, but you were far enough away to basically guarantee no forced interactions.

He merely sat in his seat, greeting people as they stopped by to say hello, and waited for the show to start. The quicker this thing was over, the quicker he would be able to go back to avoiding his feelings.

-

Walking the carpet was an absolute dream. You only wish you could've been more present. You were still incredibly nervous for your performance, and the murmurs you heard about the Avengers being in attendance did nothing to help.

You just had to choose to believe that Steve wouldn't come tonight. Unless he was so unaffected by the breakup that he could be here without it being a problem, which was a scenario you needed to put out of your head. No thoughts of break ups or Steve. At least, not until the performance.

Finding your table was easy enough once you got inside, and refusing to look around may have seemed odd, but people could easily chalk it up to nerves. Not many new about your surprise performance, but everyone knew it was your first Grammy's ceremony You were on tour when you were nominated for Best New Artist, ultimately winning the award, but missing out on the ceremony.

Other artists stopped by and chatted for a few minutes until eventually the lights dimmed and the show began.

-

Before long, a stage manager was ushering you out of your chair on a commercial break and bringing you backstage to get ready. You hadn't had much choice when it came to your carpet look- a gorgeous pink dress with plenty of tulle- but your performance look was more customizable.

You chose a dark blue set with plenty of crystals sewn onto the fabric. It looked like the night sky, and if blue is Steve's favorite color so what. This was the exact vibe you'd dreamed up when you were writing the song, so it only felt right to perform in it.

Your hair and makeup needed minimal changes, so after a few touch ups, you were being ushered toward the stage. It seemed everything backstage was happening fast enough to leave no time for nerves.

"And now, our long awaited surprise performer! She has taken the world by storm with her surprise release, I wouldn't be surprised if we saw her nominated for next year's awards. Please welcome F/N L/N performing Timeless!"

You were already seated at the piano when the curtains were drawn back. Although the song wasn't a piano ballad on the album, it felt right for this performance. You wasted no time getting started once the cheers died down.

Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in. On the counter was a cardboard box and the sign said "Photo's 25 cents each."

They were some very literal opening lines, and unsurprisingly the memories were flooding through you. You were out walking around the city, trying to clear your head, when you stumbled upon an antique store. The photos on the counter were the very first inspiration for lyrics to the vague idea of a song.

Black and white, saw a 30s bride and two lovers laughing on the porch of their first house. The kind of love you only find once in a lifetime. The kind you don't put down. And that's when I called you, and it's so hard to explain, but in those photos, I saw us instead.

It was so easy to envision Steve in the 30s, you couldn't help but put yourself in these photos with him. Your lives would be so different if you'd met back then, but there wasn't a doubt in your mind that you would love him just the same.

And, somehow, I know that you and I would've found each other. In another life, you still would've turned my head.

This was something you'd told Steve over and over. Every time he felt unsure of being in this time, you said "I would love you in any life, Steve. Any life. I'm just glad you found me in this one." You really had to gear up for the first chorus. It had one of the most telling, and therefore nerve wracking, lines.

-

Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war. You still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.

Steve was slack jawed as he listened to your song for the first time. The way you were able to take the little memories and build such a beautiful melody out of them astounded him. His emotions were suddenly overwhelming, and there was now way for him to runaway from them this time.

I would've read your love letters every single night, and prayed to god you'd be coming home alright. And you would've been fine. We would've been timeless.

It wasn't that far off from this reality. Anytime Steve was on a mission, he'd write you letters to read while he was away. After the first time, you started writing letters for him to take with him as well. Even if the two of you couldn't talk on the phone, you had something from the other to tide you over.

'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this. So even in a different life, you still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.

There was that line about a different life again. Steve already felt like he was living a different life, and somehow you knew exactly how to express what he was feeling while simultaneously reassuring him of your own love.

I had to smile when it caught my eye, there was one of a teenage couple in the driveway. Holdin' hands on the way to a dance and the date on the back said 1958. Which brought me back to the first time I saw you. Time stood still like something in this old shop.

Steve could still easily picture the very first second he saw your face. He wanted to be anywhere but Tony's party, having just come back from a mission that was only moderately successful. They had saved the hostages, but the Hydra agents managed to escape. He wanted nothing more than to track them down and being at the party would only delay everything.

When Tony brought you around for introductions, he found the mission had slipped entirely from his head. You somehow managed to lighten the mood without knowing why he was so grumpy, earning an uncharacteristic laugh from Steve still in Captain mode.

It was no surprise to anyone at the party when the two of you spent the rest of the evening together. Sitting at the bar, or the rare slow dance meant you could continue the never ending conversation.

Steve found himself so lost in thought, he missed most of the second verse and chorus. It wasn't until Bucky nudged him that he refocused on your words.

-

We're gonna be... I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray. We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made. And you'll say, "Oh my, we really were timeless."

You could feel the tears building through the second chorus and the bridge, but the third chorus really broke you down. You didn't understand why Steve decided it was best to break up and never getting that closure was taking its toll. You couldn't stop the few tears from falling, the notes that followed uncharacteristically wobbly.

-

We're gonna be timeless, timeless. You still would've been mine. We would've been... Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944. You still would've been mine. We would've been...

Steve could hear the tears in your voice easier than he could see them. His moment of weakness was haunting him as his own tears started to fall. He brushed them away quickly, forcing himself to hold it together until you were done.

Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in.

It was clear to him now more than ever that he was so wrong. He let his insecurities get the better of him, and messed up the single greatest thing that had come from being in this century.

With the show nearly over, he didn't think anyone would notice his absence. Instead of returning to his seat at the end of the commercial break, he slipped out a side exit. He wanted nothing more than to talk to you, but had no way of finding you.

"Steve!" He turned at the sound of a familiar voice calling his name. To his surprise, your manager was standing just a few feet away. "She left right after the song, said she's too tired for the afterparty."

Steve nodded, unsure why she was telling him.

"Here's her current address. Code to the elevator is 0704," she winked, passing him a slip of paper. Understanding dawned on him, and he wanted to scream.

"Thank you, Gina. Really," he managed to control the maelstrom of emotion, subtly slipping outside as quickly as he could. He was meant to ride home in the hired car with the rest of the Avengers, but your address wasn't too far from the Garden. He opted to walk, slowly transitioning into a run as his desperation grew. The flash of cameras followed him down the street, but with his speed he outpaced them quickly enough. He had one thing on his mind and one thing only, fixing things with you.

-

The pounding on your door scared you more than you'd care to admit. Nobody should be able to reach this floor without the code, but still. The knocking had an air of desperation that you wouldn't expect from anyone visiting right now. Gina was the logical choice, but was skipping the afterparty that big of a deal?

You had planned to double check through the peephole, but before you reached the door, the very last voice you'd have expected sounded clear through the door.

"Y/N? Gina, she gave me the code. I just, I need to apologize. I... I fucked up." He stalled, in nearly as much disbelief as you at hearing the words fall out of his mouth.

You swung the door open, gesturing for him to come in. You didn't trust yourself to speak. Hell, you barely trusted yourself to look at him. Once you both settled on the couch, you finally risked a glance.

Steve looked more distraught than you'd ever seen him, but his lack of explanation still left you reeling. He seemed to be at a loss for words himself until you looked at him.

"We really are timeless, huh?" he tried easing into things, instantly regretting his choice of words when you nearly vaulted off the couch.

"Steve, what the hell? You break up with me with no explanation and show up quoting my own lyrics to me?" your words lacked the anger you wished you could express, too raw from the performance to cover the dimensions of hurt. The tears were quick to return to your eyes as Steve slowly approached you.

He grabbed your hands in his and when you showed no signs of pulling away, tried again. "I made the biggest mistake of my life that day. Not just in not explaining, but in deciding I knew what was best for you. In thinking I was doing the right thing by giving in to my fears.

"You are single-handedly the greatest person I've ever known. And I overheard these women saying you could have anyone and do anything... I managed to convince myself that you deserved more. To pretend like breaking up with you was noble and not because I was afraid you'd come to the same conclusion as them"

"Steve," you shook your head, a few tears falling. You were at a loss for words. For the last two months, you thought he just fell out of love with you. His reasoning, although flawed, was reassuring. Still, it didn't undo the hurt he caused.

"I should've known better. And I can't undo what I've already done, but I can promise to never doubt you again. To come to you with my insecurities and listen to your voice when mine isn't strong enough. And I hope I can be that person for you in life- to reassure you when you feel lost." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I love you and if you'll have me again, I want to be timeless with you."

You could feel yourself squeezing his hands tighter and tighter as he spoke, trying to funnel the overwhelming emotions into physical exertion instead of tears.

"I love you too," you whispered, voice breaking on a fresh wave of tears. You wrapped your arms around him, letting him lead you back to the couch. You still had a lot to discuss, but right now, you just wanted him to hold you.

-

Bonus:

A few hours later, after many discussions about ignoring gossip and coming to each other with your problems, Steve finally managed to work up the nerve to voice once more question.

"Is the rest of the album about loving me, or is there a breakup song on there? Because I can handle it, but I might need some warning."

You stared at him for a beat before the question really sunk in.

"You haven't listened to any of it?" you confirmed. When he nodded, you just smirked. "While, I guess you'll find out right now then."

You knew it was 13 songs expressing different kinds of love for him, but you would let him sweat it out for the next 57 minutes.

a/n: here are the songs I envision on the album lol:

Timeless, Call It What You Want, Sweet Nothing, Daylight, New Year's Day, invisible string, Dress, False God, Paper Rings, Cornelia Street, evermore, Today Was A Fairytale, Lover

taglist:

Permanent: @averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @strawberryspence @andrwgxrfield @jswessie187 @ellobruv @alohastitch0626

Marvel: @leyannrae @livstilinski @oceaniamaddness @justreadingficsdontmindme @ladydmalfoy @freyathehuntress

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

Trust pt.4

Pairing- Sully family x darkfey!reader

Summary- The sullys meet a special girl.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

Warnings- mentions of death, mentions of killing, mentions of dismembering, rushed ass ending

A/N- I really couldn’t think of anything better for the ending and I’m so sorry it’s rushed but I hope you guys like it 😭

After that night with Rotxo, life with the reef people wasn’t as bad. Not many people talked to you still, but one thing changed. Rotxo.

The following day after the little exchange between you two you found him reaching Tuk how to breath longer underwater.

You sit down next to him, he peeks an eye in your direction and smiles and you bow your head to him. “Y/N!” Tuk peeps and you smile at the girl. ''Hello Tuktirey.'' You say to her as she gives you a hug. ''I'm gonna go play with Kiri wanna come?'' She asks and you simply shake your head side to side and she's off running to her sister. Then it was just you and Rotxo. He had a sheepish smile on his face. ''How has your day been?'' Interrupting the silence Rotxo asked. ''It was good.'' You reply and back to silence. You looked into the setting sun and then at Rotxo who had been staring at you. ''Thank you Rotxo.'' You tell him and he gives you a confused turn of his head. ''For last night the ointment.'' You explain and he shakes his head in understanding. ''It was no problem really but,'' He said contemplating what he was fixing to ask. ''What are those scars on your back from?'' He asks and your eyes cast downward. Choking up a little bit of courage you needed, you weren't scared of anything, but this memory terrifies you. ''I trusted someone I shouldn't've.'' You say and he hums. ''So that's why you don't trust people.'' He says in a say-so voice. turning your head to him and furrowing your eyebrows slightly. He chuckles softly, ''Sorry was just an observation.'' Your forehead untenses and shake your head, ''it's true though.'' You say giving a pitiful laugh after. ''Yeah.'' He says and you look at the ground and he tilts his head to the left as he looks at you. ''But you know what the best start is to trusting people?'' He asked and at this point he is just straight up and you shake your head no and he smiles. ''Being friends!'' He says, ''So, friends?'' He asked, putting his hand out and you looked at him in complete shock as you took his hand and breathed deeply, shaking it.

And then after that you two became inseparable. Rotxo finally talked you into learning the way of water and then in return he would go into the forest with you to heal injured animals and plants and listen to you ramble on and on about the different spices all around Pandora.

And over time the more time you spent with him the more you started to trust him. Those stone walls you put up all those years ago are finally breaking down. You told him about Jamie and what you did. You thought he would be scared off but he reacted the opposite he was understanding. One thing that surprised everyone, maybe even yourself, was when he touched your back and you didn't even react. Before you and Rotxo became friends, if anyone touched your back you immediately jumped back to defense mechanisms coming up, but he just touched your back and you just went on to talking with Unpey and Tarmei.

-Present day-

You and Rotxo collected flowers before you heard screaming from the beach, dropping the flowers Rotxo jumps on an ilu and you right behind him. Vìrtì, Ivä, Tsìo, Wìsey followed you.

He comes up next to Ao’nung who gives him a scared look as you both look at the horrific scene in front of you. Ronal lied with her soul sister who was dead, her baby calf who refused to leave her next to her. Putting a hand over my mouth it parts slightly the air was silent except for the mournful screams from the Tsahik.

When you got back to the island the men and women gathered all yelling to take action. “We will protect our people!” One man yelled, stirring up the others, war yells came from all around the room, some from Rotxo. Jake came out from the crowd and held up a human made tracking device, talking about if it hit you, you would be marked for death. Lo’aks ears perk and you see as he begins to walk off you walk with him along with your four birds. “Lo’ak.” You whisper and he takes a deep breath, “I have to make sure he is okay.” He said and you furrow your brows until you remember Rotxo telling you about how Lo’ak bonded payakan the outcast of the tulkun. You nod, “Well,” you said. “I can’t let you leave,” you continued and his arms were tense. “By yourself, I can protect you in case any sky demons find us.” You finished and he wished a quick thank you as you walked faster to the ilus. One thing you hadn’t noticed was Neteyam following you.

When you made it to the deck Neteyam called out to Lo’ak and you stood off to the side letting them have their talk. But some things you did hear was “Stay your skwang ass here.” Followed by something along the lines of, “I’m not like you, the perfect son.” Making a growl escape Neteyam. “You can’t make me stay here. Y/N?” He said both now looking at you. Lo’ak looked at you pleading and how long you’ve lived together you’ve grown rather fond of his company, you have to help. Now looking at Neteyam you shrug as you and Lo’ak jump into the water. And you recently found out if you use magic while on the ilu and it’s basically like bonding if you were with na’vi. Transparent green smoke surrounded your wrist as you jumped onto a ilu and followed Lo’ak.

Neteyam watched as you two ran off as Kiri, Tuk, Tsireya, Ao’nung, and Rotxo ran up. “Where are they going?” Tsireya asked. “To warn Payakan.” Neteyam said and everyone looked confused. Why would you leave when ordered to stay?

“We have to follow them!” Kiri said and everyone agreed jumping into their own ilus following wherever you two may have been.

Back to you and Lo’ak, you finally spotted Payakan. Stopping in front Lo’ak of Payakan ``Tell me if anyone comes.” You tell Vìrtì, Ivä, Tsìo, and Wìsey and then Lo’ak noticed had something orange sticking out of him, Lo’ak touched it, it was the tracking device Jake had found. Suddenly the group pulled up and then the birds all started to argue which was just a bunch of anger chirping. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t tell me, now stop.” You whisper to them making them stop but not before Vìrtì says something along the lines of, “Surrounded by imbeciles.” Which you glare at her for.

“Y/N!” Lo’ak grunts out, and you look over and see everyone trying to pull it out with all their strength. “A little help?” He asks and you jump off of the ilu and start helping. After a while it was clear that you couldn’t pull it out until an idea came up. “Give me that rope right there.” You tell Neteyam pointing to the rope that was on the side of his ilu. Handing it to you you wrap it securely around the tracking device and then around your ilu, as you did this you said nothing and they all just watched confused as you tug on it harshly making sure it stayed. And then you hold onto the rope and the reins to the ilu as it goes surprisingly fast. Riding back to Payakan and the group and just as you thought the device was out of him.

And then you guys hear rapid beeping from the device. “they're close.” Lo'ak asked and you looked at it, “If it does you guys go I’ll lead them away, okay?” You tell them and they nod as they mount their ilus but then someone interrupts, “You can’t go alone.” Tsireya says and you look back at her confused, “I will go with you.” She said and before you could refuse she interrupted you, “You have no choice.” You nod and say farewell from the rest as you watch them go back. You two begin to swim fast, your birds flying just as fast, hopefully faster than that demon ship, but you weren’t that hopeful.

The beeping only got stronger no matter which direction you went and then you got slung out of the water only hearing Tsireya’s yelp. You opened your eyes and hiss at the humans and fake na’vi around you. “What the hell—“ A bald Avatar said, pointing his gun at your head as he examined your strange body and horns. You’ve been on the end of many of these weapons before and you knew what to do, your palms turned into fist as all of them on deck clinged to their necks dripping there weapons. And then you heard Tsireya tell, “Stop whatever you're doing or I’ll cut her throat.” You hear a strange voice and you turn around facing Tsireya and a strange man, the very man who tried to kidnap the sullys, the man trying to kill Jake.

Releasing your hands the men gasp for air, then someone grabs your arms harshly and ties them in front of you dragging you to another room away from Tsireya.

Only a few feet away, hidden behind rocks was Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, Ao’nung, Rotxo and Tuk watching as you got dragged away. “Shit.” Neteyam whispers under his breath as he and the rest speed back to Awa’tulu where their parents waited for them.

“Where have you been?!” Jake says grabbing his two sons who pull away from him making him turn around furrowed eyebrows. “The sky people they have……they have Y/N and,” Lo’ak paused as his eyes glazed over his parents and the mention of your name made Neytiri tense up as she grabbed her bow and then the Tsahik and the Olo’eyktan. “And who?” Jake asks, slightly shaking his son's shoulder. “And Tsireya.” At the drop of her name everything went so fast, harnessing ilus and skimwings, grabbing spears and weapons as they rode out.

And things with you and Tsireya haven’t gotten any better. You were put in a white room with a mirror on one wall only seeing yourself. And then you heard a door open. The man that had captured you, really captured you came into the room. He stood with his hands on his hips doing his best to be intimidating. “My name is Quaritch and I would like to know where Jake Sully is right now.” He said. “Yes.” You say and he was confused. “What?” He bluntly said and the ends of your lips lifted up slightly. “Yes, you would like to know where Jake Sully is, don't you?” You say and his jaw clenched. “Funny kid, real funny but if you don’t answer me we might have to start cutting parts off ya’.” He said and your little smirk faded to a cruel frown. “Well, I mean,” he said, touching your back, “other parts.”

You look at him and down at the ground wondering how he knows. “I know what your thinking “How did he know'' well it’s not hard finding stuff out about Pandora's dangers, and you are at the very top of that list, you know, all those years ago you would of been what 10 when those humans got there, and when you finally trusted them that boy cut your wings off boy did you rack up a body count, I mean what kind of monster would do that, I mean I’ve done some stuff, but that, that, was something else.” He jabbed and jabbed at every possible angle. “Well, I guess you won't?” He said, wiping his hands off. He walked off and to the door. “Guess we will have a little chat with your friend then.” He said pounding a code into the keypad next to the door, the door opened and he left you.

Your leg shakes up and down as you listen to his heavy footsteps get fainter and fainter until there is nothing. Immediately getting you walk over to the door putting your hand on it green smoke covers it and it shatters, stepping over it and into some glass you ignore the jabbing on the pad of your feet and pick up your pace as you hurry down the hallway, you checked every room and no Tsireya, there was only one door left and you prayed to the Great Mother that she was in here. Shattering this door you heard an all too familiar yelp. Tsireya saw it was you and her scared tears turned into happy tears but soon back to scared as two guards came up behind you, jumping at you.

But you were quick to act jumping out of the way as they knocked into trying to collect themselves. You wave your hand in front of their faces, green smoke surrounding your hands and their eyes close as they land on the ground, peacefully sleeping, well not so peaceful but still, sleeping. Tsireya had stronger skin than you so she stepped over the glass with no puncture of her skin which you kind of envied because of the cuts all over you feet but you focused on something greater than silly little cuts on your feet: getting out of here alive.

You grabbed Tsireya’s hand guiding her to the only entrance and exit of the hallway. And it led into another hallway, finally you made it to the real exit. You poked your head out and saw one woman, waving your hand as she fell asleep. Tip toeing around her. Making it to the door labeled, “Pandorian Artifacts’ you and Tsireya enter it only to have made it yet another hallway and you were getting irritated you just wanted to get out of there. This hallway had windows and out one stood all of your birds. “Thank you Great Mother.” You say opening the window letting the four birds, who luckily got away, they all land on your shoulders smothering you in love, chirping about how they thought that you were a goner. You look over to Tsireya and she had a smile on her lips, “Okay, okay we can reconcile when we are safe and need you guys to get everyone, everyone.” You say and they all straighten their wings and look at each other and then at you nodding their necks up and down once as they say goodbye to you once more as they fly out into the window all splitting in four different directions.

“What'd you tell them to do?” Tsireya asked as you began walking again. “They are getting help.” You say and you pass the last door and your back shoots straight up and you gasp as a chilling fever runs down you. “Is something wrong?” A concerned Tsireya asked. You look at the door and you have something fighting to open it, you reach your hand over touching the silver nob, cold and heavy in your hand, your heart raced as you turned it and you could have sworn the air and the world around you stopped when you pulled it open and revealed wings, huge wings encased in a glass box, they were brown in color with shades of gold when the light finally hit it, and the jagged cuts around the ends from where they were removed. It had to be a dream you decided so you bring your hand to the glass touching it flinching when it shattered under your touch. Shaking the glass that hit your hand off you look back at the wings letting your finger finally, finally touch the feathers you smiled at. It hadn't been a dream after all. Before anything could happen Tsireya gasped pushing you into a closet.

You couldn’t see but you heard, “Where’s your friend?” A man asked, no response. “No answer. It’s fine, your more than dead anyways.” He said snatching her and dragging her.

Jake and the Metkayina they finally made it to the ship, soldiers guarded the ship from above, probably more within not to mention the scientist inside. Jake’s eyes scan the ship searching for any sign of you and Tsireya, none. One person he unfortunately noticed was Miles Quaritch. He reached for his earpiece as he began talking, his eyes finally saw Tsireya being dragged out and in front of him still no you. Tsireya was passed to Quaritch and he began to speak, “Well, Sully.” He began, “It always circles back doesn’t it, you killed me, now I’m going to kill you.” He said. “Also I didn’t take you for an animal lover Sully, you know that thing with the horns and scars on her back, yeah she did a number on my ship and right now I got men looking for her and before I kill you I'm going to dismember her in front of you.” He said and Jake's breath quickened and he looked up at Neytiri on her ikran who had a look of panic for you and hatred for Quaritch as he held onto Tsireya.

“So this is how it will go,” Quaritch began again. “You’ll give yourself up and I’ll let this girl go and almost everyone else.” He said and Jake looked down from Quaritch and everyone else. He made his mind up. Placing his gun to his side and letting his tsurak pull forward and as Quaritch got his shot ready the boat shaked. Quaritch fell and before he could get up again it shook again. And then from the north side of the boat split open green smoke emerging out of it and then wings. Jake’s eyes widen before a smile breaks out on his face as he looks at Neytiri. But it quickly shut down when he saw a swarm of birds and then, Toruk.

You floated in the air as Vìrtì and the rest floated to you; they were out of breath and quickly chirped things between end gasps. “I know I’ll tell you guys later just did you tell him what to do.” You ask and Wìsey being the only one to answer with a quiet yes. And you smile and then you see the Metkayina and Toruk headed to the ship. You flew down and helped the Metkayina get to Tsireya. You put most of the soldiers to sleep not wanting to do more harm than done. Your wings flapped the water around the ship, making sure that the boat shook, keeping them off their feet. You made it to Tsireya and then you saw her ilu. Running over to her you jump in the water. “You got them back.” She said as she mounted her ilu and connected her kuru. “I got them back.” You reply and all of the Metkayina surround you and Tsireya making sure she’s okay.

“You guys get back to the village. Make sure everyone is safe and accounted for.” You tell them and they rude make and you say your farewells to Tsireya and then to the boat Toruk snatched the boats sides off many fell and you flew to him and he hissed at you and you put your hands up bowing your head to him and he bares his teeth at you for defense. “You may go home, you have helped more than enough.” You say to him and he hides his fangs bowing his head before turning back, meeting with Jake before flying off into Pandora.

And then you saw the Sullys, all of them, on the boat, fighting. “This family doesn’t know how to stay put.” You whisper to yourself as you watch Neteyam and Neytiri finish off most of the soldiers but one catches your eyes and before you could react your wing reaches over them and a bullet penetrates your wing and you hold back the gruttal scream that threatens to come out. “Are you okay?” You ask and before anything happens water begins to fill the boat everyone but Jake and Quaritch jump off.

Tuk cried in Neytiri's arms as the boat snuck under the water. Spider looked down in shame as if it was somehow his fault. And throughout your protest Kiri checks your wing. And then by the grace of Eywa Jake was brought back flinging his hands in the water Neteyam and Lo’ak helped him to the surface. Jake coughs and he looks at his son and tears spill from his eyes into his water soaked face. “Sons, I see you.” He says standing up Jake looks at everyone and he smiles holding out his injured side he brings his family and Spider into a hug as you stood to the side. “Our family is safe now.” He said and his eyes peek over to you bringing you over to him, “including you Y/N.” He says hurling you into the hug and it stunned you as you feel the warm embrace of trust.

Tags-

@tejas-kris @destinylb @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @xxnessinessiellexx @inutheangel @whos6claire @multi-fandom-rando

[act-more-like-a-dog-sirius]

Yeesssss

What is your saltiest take on fanon Sirius?

Sirius being closer to Remus than he is to James.

Look. i get that y’all are wolfstar fans. i get that you love your ship. but. no. just. no. there is not a single fucking shred of evidence for that in the entirety of canon. not. one. frankly, the opposite is overtly implied/stated many times. who did sirius go to when he ran away? james’ place. JAMES. not remus. James. who did McGonagal, Rosmerta, hagrid and flitwick fondly reminisce about and say ‘never saw one without the other’ ’you’d have thought they were brothers... inseparable!' ‘ringleaders of their little gang’ ‘trusted him above all his other friends.’

was it remus? no. it most definitely was not. it was james. was remus even once mentioned in the conversation about james and sirius at hogwarts? nope. nada. zippo. zilch. exactly zero times did it come up. and to be clear. lupin’s not there at the table. they obviously think they’re not gonna be overheard by anyone (lmao, you’d think they’d be more competent than that) otherwise they wouldn’t be discussing any of this out in public but… lupin’s in their minds because he’s back at hogwarts. so. it’s not like they’ve forgotten who he is. it’s just that the person that they automatically associate with sirius black is james potter. even peter gets a shout out ‘that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them’ but Rosmerta literally doesn’t even remember remus as ever being with them. 

not to mention the fact that they didn’t trust each other enough to tell the truth during the first war. oh. and james named SIRIUS Harry’s godfather. he didn’t do the whole dual godfathers thing. he chose sirius. not remus. sorry mates, but it’s the truth. and he made (or at least wanted to make) SIRIUS their secret keeper.. not. remus…

look you can ship whoever you want (lord knows just about every single marauders fan there is is obsessed with wolfstar) but don’t try to erase or manipulate/bend/ignore/disregard canon to suit your desired ship (and then act like it actually is canon and not just what you want)

[dottedmage]

GOOD LIRD I FINALLY FINISHED THIS

Finnally a proper references for my agent headcanons hurray. “Nakey” version + other info under the cut (looking you with eyes, you will read everything)

Timeline for this is Sara and Cube post RotM, Mars and Eight with their splat2 outfits but beginning of splat3 appearences (i was too lazy to come up with clothes lol)

Sara

-23 years old

-Top left side of her head is permanently scared due to direct contact wih sanitized ink. Has permanent blury vision on her left eye, moderate hearing loss on her left ear and pain on her left shoulder.

-His hands and feet got hit by significant amounts of fuzzy ooze while cutting it all down. This is why he wasnt able to keep going 👍 (no bones for an ankle to be broken uknow)

-Says the most unserious of things in the most serious tone, seems like theyre joking but its always from their heart

-Sees themselves a lot in Cube and takes care of it and gives it advice contantly. Offered Cube to go live with them after their mission was over but Cube refused

-Knows a little bit of octarian, hes trying his best but has a unique way of mispronouncing words

Mars

-22

-Very clumsy during his 1st time as an agent so he has lots of scars because of that

-Scars on his right side are from a bomb explosion gone very wrong

-After splat2 she grew her hair out and styled it to match Maries a bit

-Lives in a shared apartment with Sara and sometimes Eight

-Was catching up with her high school missed agent years and is now studing some general science/space-based course 👍 he like space a lot

-Was very mad and very upset and very sad he was not the one choosen to be sent into space to save the earth

-Fluent in octarian, also knows a bit of salmonling

Eight

-22

-Her weird spots are a reaction from perlonged exposure to a sanitized environment, the bigget her spots are the better, the smaller the worse. She sometimes wakes up with random pains, especially in her right arm and back

-Lives with Pearl and Marina post OE, also spents a loooottt of time at 4 and 3s place

-Fluent in inklish but has a funny accent

-Loves travelling with Pearl and Marina, honestly she loves travelling with anyone but her cool lesbian moms go to 100 places in a month so its a plus she gets to go with them for free

-Very good cook, is bad with deserts but shes getting better

Cube

-16

-Became a little furry tiger-ish inkling due to prolonged exposure to fuzzy ooze. Unlike Sara it is less fuzzy, its just spread all around its body

-Cannot change into squid form and produces ink very slowly in a small amount, limiting its capacitie of participating in ink related sports.

-Scavanged the deserts around splatsville for trinkets to sell in 2nd hand markets and fairs. Meet with Deep Cut once or twice during that period, hence their pre-assumption that it was gonna steal the stuff for itself

-In their free time they used to participate in turf wars. They considered doing salmon runs but found it extremelly wrong and immorall

-Little buddy was a salmonid that wanted to see more of the world so they snuck into, a very distracted, workers hat. Lucky for them that worker was very friendly, and tired of grizzcos work, so they showed little buddy all around splatsville and its deserts and even a beach. They quickly beacame friends and are inseparable now

-It knows salmonling wowow

-Maths fan, number one stan of geometry and shapes

-Tableturf card collector

-Lives in a too-big of an apartment with the squid sisters

-Goes to school now hurray!!

-Visits Sara a lot, doesnt spent much time there as Eight but does show up unannounced

Suspense music, relatioship thang:

Sara

About Mars; My friend, my one and only. I can count on her for everything. I do have to keep an eye out for her extreme clumsiness

About Eight; I wish i got to spent more time with her. Shes very fun and makes me feel at home when shes around.

About Cube; Was this how Callie and Marie felt when i joined the splatoon? Fun kid, has to stop stepping on metal.

Mars

Sara; oh Sara my good friend Sara. We ding dong ditch together, our neighbours hate us but they dont know that. (also i dont think she realizes were dating....)

Eight; oooo my love kiss kiss muah muah

Cube; funny kid, does need to make up for not inviting me to space with them. Im joking, i love it and the little rocks it gives me.

Eight

Sara; Hes very unserious! You would think behind her intimidating looks is someone thats shy and reserved but she has the wildests things to say sometimes, shes very funny i like her a lot (we need to talk to her abt that, you cannot keep assuming things Mars...)

Mars; There is not a single conversation with you where i dont laugh my heart out. Thank you for the butterflies in my stomach head and eyes

Cube; It comes into our house, it eats all the food, it gives a long detailed compliment, it leaves. Interesting child i guess.

Cube

Sara; Seemed very intimitading at first but i think shes just worries about me but hey! i can take care of myself fine

Mars; i like to give her animal shaped rocks and crystals.

Eight; I haven't talked or seen her a lot but she cooks so well

o wow you read it all congrats! you have the right to 1 (one) drawing request ;) and if you have anything to ask please do, talking abt headcanons and stuff makes me develop characters faster and its fun :]

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

Saint Beramun of the Wheel / Saint Tena of Revolution

Regular name Beremuntena the Brave, First/Third Circle, 6’2

Gender: sure. sexuality: knife. execution status: judge, jury, and executioner

Well. So. She’s a little fucked up in the head. Top ten guys with an intensely rigid moral code that doesn’t even really serve her but fuck if she’s not following it. She served in the war with Anje and Geram and went home to find her hometown destroyed by her own army and her [GUY] facedown dead in the mud, and then proceeded to hang out with the only other surviving guy from there for the rest of his life but also never talk about it ever again. Was one of the three original guys in the original relief effort that became the saints! Weird toxic gay thing with Anje about it (derogatory) that turned very sour very quickly. She took it really hard when ppl started trying to make a religion out of her and her buddies and decided the best thing to do about that (since none of THEM were gonna do anything besides try and politely dissuade it) was to kill them all publicly and individually! Which did kind of do the trick since at least now she doesn’t have to hear about it anymore but also now there’s nothing left for her to do but fuck off into the hills to fight whatever she can find until she gets herself killed.

Pros and cons below the cut!

Pros:

Big hot lady with a sword. I know my audience

Pink

Hangs out with a guy who has a dog?

Cons:

Not nice. Will not be nice to you.

Might kill you if she gets invested enough

If she’s not invested enough she will forget who you are entirely the second y’all are finished

The other guy she hangs out with has a massive crush on her and WILL hate you and make it weird (“that’s a bonus if you’re into cucking” — @wildfandom)

The three of them map pretty well onto any mean girl trio in existence (Heathers, Mean Girls, etc) except for the part where Tena isn’t even cool. Nobody likes her that much and she has no clout.

Despite the executions and the army career, she managed to basically avoid the idea that People Die When They Are Killed until she bashed her “best friend” (they don’t even like each other but they’ve been inseparable since she was eight)‘s head in with a rock after finishing the executions and fucking off into the hills

[steelthroat]

My Transformers ocs and their origins:

1) Flange: he is a gladiator, he was born to romance Megatron in a silly fic of mine (which I'm still writing) he's the only one I've drawn lol. He exists in his own AU and doesn't have a faction in the regular timeline he's kind of paired off with my next oc and is a Decepticon.

2) Abode or Wheelpad (I'm still deciding): he's an Autobot, he's got a worried-dad kind of personality, his alt-mode is a yellow Fiat Doblò, he's very kind, he is primarily a courier and he takes his job very seriously. He rarely rests and is very responsible, but he's also prone to cracking dad jokes and can be awkward and shy. Flange likes him a lot and finds him cute, but Abode/Wheelpad thinks he's trouble. He still looks out for the reckless Decepticon because if he doesn't, who else will? They ended up living together after the war because they couldn't afford to live alone due to "the incident". Chaos ensues, I have a lot more to say about him.

3) Rocker: (he/they) still deciding on his alt-mode, but he's a grounder either 2 or 4 wheeler. Punk, likes racing, youthful personality but he knows how to be serious. He's an Autobot but he didn't fight in the war because he was unconscious for most of it after almost being blown up... he woke up during the last years of it and he was very out of touch with everything. He's still fighting with his grief, survivor guilt and his trust issue after his friend Starship became a Seeker but they're the only friend left/who is willing to take care of him and stay with him during the hardest time of his life

He and Starship were born after listening to "we built this city" by Starship, I have a mental animation about them...

4) Starship: flyer, met Rocker before the war and they were inseparable. They are a lively mech, with big dreams and hopes for the future. They became a Decepticon hoping to change society for the better, they don't believe they would have fared any better with the Autobots, but they regret separating from Rocker. They didn't fight for most of the war since their fighting skills were... huh... well they were better off as a courier or whatever else they could do, but not fighting, they were a disgrace as a Seeker and his time under Starscream's command was short-lived. After the war they found Rocker again during the worst moment of his life, he didn't initially want anything to do with them but Starship would rather die than separate from him again... they have come a long way since then, but there's still a lot of work and therapy waiting for the 2 of them.

5) Recoil(idk probably gonna change her name): she is a grounder, she is still a wip and I'm still working on her storyline since but I have a blurry vision of a design in mind for her! She's very cool and composed, but she also has a lot of anger inside of her which she uses when she has to fight(she goes apeshit). She's a decepticon and I'm still deciding if she's gonna defect or not. She I a natural born commander, very authoritative, she doesn't have problems working under pressure, she IS the pressure. I have a lot to say about her but for now this is gonna be it ;)

[mads-weasley]

C'est Toi

Eugene Roe x Medic!Reader (Soulmate AU)

Masterlist

A/N: Hiiii @issiie / @cetaitlaverite !! Sorry again for the delay! This is the last gift from me, and I hope you've enjoyed them so far. I'm excited to release this fic! It is my first attempt at a soulmate au, so bear with me! I do not own any of these characters except for (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: People never know when they'll meet their soulmate, but (y/n) would have never thought she'd meet hers in a hot, humid town in Georgia.

Warnings: mentions of wounds, blood, death, etc...

For as long as she could remember, (y/n) (y/l/n) wondered if she had already met her soulmate. The small mark above her hip was a constant reminder of what, more like who, who was yet to come into her life. As she grew up, she always looked out for the matching mark on every boy she went out with, but soon grew tired of the chase, deciding that it would happen at the right time.

Before the "right time" could come, the world descended into war, and (y/n) enlisted, wanting to serve her country like the rest of the men in the military. After a rough time of convincing generals and higher-ups in the army, she was granted permission to be a combat medic in the 101st Airborne, Easy Company.

Basic was hard, but she made it through Sobel, even though he had it out for her especially. One thing that got her through the long runs up Currahee and the long lectures was her fellow medic, Eugene Roe. The Cajun was shy at first, but (y/n) soon brought him out of his shell when she started talking about the family she left behind. From then on, they were inseparable. You would rarely find one without the other, and if you did, you knew that they would make their appearance soon.

Before they knew it, it was the night of June 5th, hours before the "Day of Days" they trained for would begin.

June 6th, 1944

After getting all geared up for the jump, (y/n) made her way over to where Eugene was making sure everyone in his platoon had enough bandages in their personal aid kits. Her stomach was buzzing with uncertainty and a twinge of fear as she waited for him to finish.

"Salut, ma chérie," he called to her, a smile painting his face. She could tell it didn't quite meet his eyes, though.

"Hey, Gene." She took a deep breath as she approached him. "Are you ready for this? Cause I don't know if I a-"

He gently placed his hands on her arms, squeezing softly to stop her rambling. "You've got this, (y/n/n). Don' worry, okay? We're gonna be fine."

At his touch, a warmth spread through her body, and she could feel a blush creep up her face. He was her best friend, so why was she freaking out at a simple touch from him?

Pushing through the feeling, a defeated sigh escaped her lips as she muttered toward the ground. "Promise me you'll be careful. Please."

He moved his hands to cup her cheeks, his soft browns peering into her (y/e/c) ones. "I promise, ma chérie. You too."

Feeling the heat from his breath on her skin, she glanced down at his lips before catching herself after a split second.

"Alright, Doc," she whispered, reluctantly stepping back. "I'll see you in France."

With a solemn expression, he nodded, scanning her face as if it was the last time he would see her, heart racing. Just before she turned away, he caught her wrist gently, pulling her into a tight embrace, burying his head into the crook of her neck.

When he finally pulled away, Eugene turned and walked towards his plane, knowing that if he turned back, he wouldn't be able to leave her. Doing the same, (y/n) took a deep breath, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. They would see each other again. They had to.

The unsettled feeling in (y/n)'s stomach didn't settle. Not even when she found Floyd Talbert on the way to the rally point. Not even when she linked up with most of the company at the designated point.

Only did the feeling subside when she laid eyes on a very exhausted-looking Eugene Roe. Along with this feeling, an invisible weight lifted off her shoulders as she saw him patching up a soldier in the distance.

"Gene," she whispered under her breath before running toward him.

The man he was helping started to limp slowly over to the aid station, and Gene stood up, taking a deep breath.

When she called his name again, his head shot up, and a smile instantly formed on his grimy face when he saw her. He met her halfway, throwing his arms around her middle, and pressed his cheek against her hair with a sigh.

"Je remercie le Seigneur," he murmured, "Thank you."

At that moment, Gene was more content than he had ever been before. She was living and breathing. That's all he'd asked for.

The time they were separated, though only hours, he felt like his heart was unable to beat properly until he saw her again. Throughout his journey through the forest of Normandy, the image of her smiling face kept him going, along with the hope he was going to see it again soon.

Pulling away, Gene cupped her face gently, searching her face for injuries. "Are you alrigh'? Are ya' hurt?"

"I'm okay, Gene," she mumbled, placing her hands over his. "I'm okay.

Tension thickened the air, and his heart began to beat out of his chest as she looked up at him with the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. In a split-second decision, he chose to finally tell her how he felt.

"Listen, I need to-"

"Medic!" he was interrupted.

(Y/n) nodded in the call's direction. "Go."

Scanning her face one more time, he ran toward the cry for help, already missing (y/n)'s warmth.

As she watched him go, she tried to calm her racing heart. He was alive. Gene was alive.

The next few days after D-Day, they were ordered to take the town of Carentan. Supposedly, there was a company of German paratroopers holding the city, but no one knew for certain what they were walking into.

Gene and (y/n) were at the back of the formation of Easy as they waited over a hill on the road to Carentan. They watched Lieutenant Winters speak to Harry Welsh before giving the signal to go.

Nodding to each other, they began to run toward the town. Within seconds of the company moving in, a cry in German could be heard, followed by the dreaded sound of machine-gun fire. (Y/n) watched in horror as some of the men beside her were gunned down easily.

"In the ditch!" Winters yelled over the chaos.

Not hearing the order, (y/n) kept on running with the surviving men of 1st platoon into Carentan.

Gene's heart dropped seeing her sprint into the onslaught of bullets.

"(Y/n)!" He yelled, but she didn't hear him.

Dust sprung from the ground before her as she barely made it to cover with Harry and George Luz. Slamming into the concrete building beside them, Welsh looked behind them, realizing the rest of the company was nowhere to be found.

"Where is everybody?" He shouted as Luz shoot a few times around the side of their cover.

Taking cover, George hid behind the wall momentarily. "I have no idea!"

During this interaction, (y/n) was scanning their surroundings, trying to find any indication of where everyone was, especially Gene. At this point, her eyes were trained to find the bright white and red armband they wore, but she saw no trace of it.

'He'll be okay,' she told herself. 'He'll be okay.'

In less than a minute, the rest of Easy began swarming into the town, and that's when the first cry for a medic could be heard.

"Medic up!"

Saying a silent prayer, (y/n) took a deep breath and ran out into the chaos. Bullets whizzed by her as she found the injured man in an alleyway.

"Help me, Doc! It's my arm!" the soldier yelled when she slid down beside him.

"I've got ya, sweetheart. You're gonna be okay."

She pulled out her bag and sprinkled sulfa on the wound, bandaging it up the best she could. Once she was done, she asked the man if he could stand.

"I think so, ma'am."

"Good," she responded. "Go back toward our infill point and take cover there."

Just as the words left her mouth, another yell for a medic could be heard. Within two seconds, she was on her feet, making her way toward the next injured man.

"This is going to be a long and hard day."

A good bit into the battle, Gene had treated many men but was yet to see his (y/h/c) counterpart darting through the streets of Carentan. This could have been attributed to the fact that the town was like a maze, different streets and alleyways made it hard to navigate it, even though it wasn't that large.

Taking cover in an old bakery, Gene glanced to his right to see Shifty Powers aiming his rifle at what he suspected to be a sniper. After he was done shooting for a moment, Roe called out to him.

"Powers. You seen (y/l/n)?"

He had to think for a second but nodded a few seconds later. "Yeah. I saw her helping someone with a shoulder wound not too long ago."

"Alright. Thanks," Gene responded, brows furrowing in concern.

'Where is she, now?' He thought, watching as men flew by the entrance of the bakery.

"Medic!"

Like always, (y/n) went flying toward the sound, disregarding the danger she was putting herself in. Halfway there, she heard the desperate voice of Lip echo through the street.

"Move, move, move!" He yelled, motioning for them to take cover.

With a curse, (y/n) continued toward the injured man 10 feet in front of her. Before she could make it there, she heard the distinct whistle of an incoming shell, and the next thing she knew, she was thrown backward from its impact.

The breath was knocked from her lungs by the force of the explosion. Frozen, she tried to speak, but nothing came out but strangled gasps.

She vaguely heard someone call her name, but all she could focus on was the violent buzzing in her ears and a burning sensation spreading through her stomach. Trying to lean up on her elbows, she yelped at a sharp pain in her abdomen and fell back on the hard ground, hand flying to the area. When she pulled it away, it was coated in crimson.

"I'm h-hit," she whispered to no one in particular. "I ca-can't b-bre-breathe"

Suddenly, a body slid next to hers, their hands hovering over her.

"(Y/n)! Oh mon Dieu."

Gene. It was Eugene. Even though he was sick to his stomach, he pushed it aside and went into medic mode. She wasn't just another wounded soldier, but right then, he had to treat her as one.

"Ge-Gene?"

"Yeah, it's me, chérie. I've got ya. Hold on."

He hooked his hands under her armpits, pulling her toward a nearby building.

"Come on, sweetheart. I got ya."

Whimpers escaped her mouth as he jostled the wound when they moved. Just when they got around cover, Harry Welsh came sprinting around the corner, hand holding his helmet to his head. At the sight before him, his heart dropped. Everyone knew how close the two of them were.

"Doc, do you need help?"

"No," he responded, lifting her shirt to get a look at the wound. "Tell Spina what happened."

With a reluctant nod, Harry raised his rifle and went to find Ralph. Gene glanced at (y/n)'s face, which was covered in scratches and scrunched up in pain, and quickly gave her a morphine shot to the shoulder. Seeing her visibly relax, he felt a slight relief as well.

"You're alright, chérie. You're alright," he whispered, cupping her cheek gently.

"Thans', Ge," she slurred, eyes fluttering shut from the morphine.

He quickly got out a bandage and started to clean the wound, which he discovered was from a two-inch piece of shrapnel that was embedded in her abdomen. Sprinkling sulfa on the area, Gene froze when he saw a discolored area just above her hip.

Shaking the feeling away, he finished bandaging her up before wiping the area in question clean of any blood.

The shape of the mark was instantly recognizable. It was a mirror image of the one on his hip.

If they had matching marks, it could only mean one thing. His eyes widened at the realization.

They were soulmates.

"C'est Toi," he muttered under his breath. "It's you."

The young man's heart began to race at the thought, and all the feelings for her he'd suppressed since Toccoa came bubbling back to the surface.

He was pulled from his stupor by the voice of Spina.

"She alright?"

Gene cleared his throat, "Yea', she took shrapnel to the stomach, but it's out now. She'll have to come off the line."

"Shame. I know we really need her out here with us."

Glancing back down at her, he smiled. "You have no idea how much."

Before long, they carefully loaded (y/n) onto a stretcher, and she was sent to the aid station. When she woke up, a familiar head of dark hair was resting on the side of the bed, his hand intertwined with hers.

Deciding to let him sleep, she watched him silently. Nowadays, a solemn look occupied his handsome face most of the time, so she loved seeing the carefree version of him.

"Glad to see you're awake," whispered Lip, who was laying on the cot beside her.

"Me too. What happened to you?"

"Mortar," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Car."

He smiled softly, "Thank you. You too, (y/n). I know he'll miss you."

"I'll miss him just as much," she replied, running her free hand through Eugene's hair.

Shooting up at the action, he grinned at her sleepily, asking. "Hey, chérie. How are you feelin'?"

"Sore, but I'll be okay...What happened after I fell asleep?"(Y/n) paused. "I don't remember much."

Not expecting the question, Gene about choked on nothing just thinking about his life-altering discovery. "I just patched ya' up and brought you here."

Although he was the one who brought her to the aid station, seeing her all bruised and bandaged suddenly made the situation real. He could have lost her. Tears glistened in his eyes, and he dropped his chin.

"I'm so glad you're alright. I don't know what I'd do without you, (y/n). I mean it. When I saw you laying there...I had to-"

"Stop," she interrupted. "You're not gonna lose me...and I don't know what I'd do without you, either."

"Who else would patch you up?" He joked, rubbing her hand softly with his thumb.

(Y/n) chuckled lightly at the joke, followed by a wince. "Please don't make me laugh."

"Sorry, darlin', my jokes normally don't make anyone laugh."

Even though she tried to hold it in, a laugh escaped her lips, causing her to groan lowly. "Gene!"

"Sorry!"

They sat in silence for a few minutes until her eyes began to droop and she yawned. Eugene ran his hands through her hair gently, lulling her to sleep.

"Go to sleep, (y/n)," he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up."

October 1945: Zel am See, Austria

Over the 8 months since Gene found out about (y/n)'s soulmate mark, he was tempted to tell her many times but decided against it.

Even though he wanted her to know how he felt, he was going to wait until the war was over. The last thing he wanted was for them to finally get confess, only for one of them to get killed.

When the Japanese surrendered in September, everyone was celebrating, but once everything settled down, they began thinking about home, more importantly, who they'd be coming home to. Gene had been thinking about telling (y/n) more and more each day, and it reached a boiling point in mid-October.

The Austrian landscapes around them were some of the most beautiful any of the men had ever seen, specifically, a lake with a perfect view of the Alps. This was where he was going to tell her how he felt; a place that was untouched by war.

That day, the company was finally having a rematch baseball game from V-J Day after George and Frank, who were on the losing team, pitched a fit about it not being a fair game. While the rest of the company was getting ready for the game, Gene approached (y/n)'s billet door.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

Heavy footsteps came thumping down the hallway, followed by (y/n)'s aggravated voice.

"No, Frank. I'm not playing in the stupid ga-"

Opening the door, she froze mid-sentence when she saw the shy-looking Cajun.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, and a blush crept up her neck. "Gene! I thought you'd be playing in the game?"

He simply chuckled. "I'm not very good at baseball."

"Me neither," she started. "So, what brings you to my humble abode?"

"Since neither of us is playing, would you maybe want to go-"

"Yes," (y/n) interrupted. "Yes."

A smile broke out on his face. "Don't you want to know what I was gonna say?"

"Nope. Surprise me?"

"Sure."

"Alright. Close your eyes for me." Said Gene as they came up to the special place he'd found for them.

She listened and held her hands in front of her with a laugh. "Okay. Just don't let me run into anything, Eugene!"

"Don't worry. I've got ya, chérie," he said sweetly, taking her hands gently.

Arriving, he turned her toward the lake, sliding an arm around her shoulders. "Open."

(Y/n)'s eyes sprung open and widened at the view. "Gene, it's beautiful!"

"Do you like it?" He asked sheepishly.

(Y/n) turned to him with a surprised expression. "Of course I do. Thank you."

This was the moment.

Gene gently took her hands in his once again. "(Y/n)," he whispered. "I love you. And I kno-"

He was cut off by (y/n) pulling his face down to hers, crashing their lips together. As they pulled away, she chuckled breathily. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?"

The young man was beaming with happiness. "Just how long?" he questioned.

"Since I found out we were soulmates," she said, shrugging her shoulders with a grin.

Gene's eyes went wide. "Wait! You knew?"

"Since Toccoa."

"How?"

"I think you forget that you slept shirtless in Georgia."

Running a hand down his face, he sighed. "Of course. I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not," (y/n) paused. "And I love you, too."