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raygunny · 1 year

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Tav Goes Missing

Ok uh holy shit this is long, I hope you all like it - it was a labor of love 💙

Based on my prompt by the same name

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Tav

Word count: 7,556

Synopsis: Tav is under a lot of pressure - she’s suddenly been shoved into leading a team of parasite infested misfits, everything seems to want to kill them, and a certain vampire has been on her mind far too much. She needs some time away from camp, but while venturing out on her own she gets hurt - and even worse, stuck. Who will come to her rescue?

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

Trudging back to camp Tav feels a heaviness descend upon her. In her body, sure, but that’s an unavoidable fact of life at this point. More so her mind feels weary, and she’s pretty sure it’s not the parasite’s doing. At least not this time.

There’s been an anxiety hovering over her, one that only seems to kick in as they return each evening. The events of the day and the many before catching up with her as she enters the safety of camp. She should be relieved each time they make it back with all their limbs still attached, but lately, she just feels dread.

Tav feels somewhat guilty at the thought.

It’s been a pleasant surprise how much she’s enjoyed traveling with her new companions. Who would have thought that being in constant danger and sharing a psychic tadpole would be so effective in bonding them together?

If she’s being honest, though - it can be a bit much at times. There’s always some crisis, some literal life-ending problem popping up at the worst time. Really it doesn't matter what it is, Tav knows she can't bring herself to let any of them to deal with it alone. She knows that feeling all too well.

And truly, she is happy to have people around who need her and who she needs. Who enjoys her as she enjoys them.

So then why do I always feel so alone still?

Tav dismisses the thought. It’s not their fault, everything has been too much recently. Too much fighting, too much talking - trying to save their skin at every turn from some new, twisted form of danger. During the day she has no other option but to stay strong, to push the anxieties away. Failing at that means risking the safety of the whole party.

Upon their return to camp, all those thoughts suddenly come racing back. Sometimes it feels impossible to shut them off - and she needs to figure out how to shut them off. Even within the bounds of camp she knows she needs to be their unwavering leader. Sure of herself and them - carrying none of the doubts and fears that keep running through her mind.

She just needs a minute to think - to breathe. Some space would do her well, just for a couple hours so she can get this out of her system. As tempting as it is to wander off without saying anything, she convinces herself to check in with the others.

“What can I do to help?” Tav asks as she approaches Gale. He’s building a fire, preparing to cook dinner.

Gale looks up, “Well, well - if it isn’t our fearless leader!” Tav winces a little at that.

He doesn’t notice, glancing around, “Hmm, I think most of it is covered. I suppose we need firewood? And about this much kindling.” He holds his arms out making a circle away from his body. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, he could’ve just said an armful. “There’s enough to get us through cooking dinner, but we won’t have enough into the night.”

Shadowheart is nearby, helping Gale with dinner by chopping carrots. She pipes up, “I just saw Karloch with her axe heading towards the other side of camp. I think she’s going to chop some wood for us.”

Tav surveys the rest of their camp. Wyll is by the communal chest, focused on going through their inventory, trying to organize everything they’ve gathered in the last few days. Hopefully they’ll be going to the market tomorrow to sell some items and pick up some much needed supplies. She’s relieved, silently thanking Wyll - her brain could not handle that task right now.

Next to him is Lae’zel, who like clockwork can be found cleaning and sharpening her weapons each evening. She’s doing just that. Tav smiles as she notices Wyll’s sword and one of Karloch’s many axes at her feet.

Lately, Lae’zel has taken to helping the rest of the camp keep their weapons in top condition. Slowly but surely beginning to open up to them - in her own way of course. “You take such poor care of your blade. You clearly are unsuited for such a task, I will take it to my tent and return it to you later,” she says, her face giving away nothing. But Tav sees how she pays attention, how she knows who needs their weapons taken care of on any given evening.

Gale interrupts her train of thought, “Sounds like that leaves kindling Tav, do you want to grab some? Dinner won’t be ready for a while.” He starts talking about the stew he’s making and stresses that it needs an absolute minimum cooking time of two hours for optimal tenderness and flavor. He starts complaining about how they haven’t had a hot meal in far too long.

It’s been like a day, Tav sighs internally. That’s fine, it just means she’s got plenty of time to burn.

“Patience is a virtue,” Gale finishes, holding one finger up. Turning it towards himself he continues with a grin, “And I’m quite virtuous”. She’s amused but won’t let him see it, he’s been incorrigible lately.

Her stomach rumbles loudly. She, on the other hand, is not particularly virtuous it would seem. Fishing out an apple and some bread from her larger pack, she makes purposeful eye contact with Gale and raises her eyebrows. He shakes his head chuckling a little and turns back to building the campfire. She stashes the snacks in her satchel, she won’t be gone that long but it doesn’t hurt to have on hand.

“I’ll go get the kindling, I might be a little while though.” Gale waves a hand in her direction and just tells her to have fun.

Tav goes to change into her camp clothes and as she strips off her shirt she notices a tear in the sleeve. It’s going to need to be mended. She grabs it and heads towards Astarion’s tent.

As far as camp duties go, Astarion typically gets away with minimal work - instead focusing on looking pretty while reading one of his many books. He swears up and down that he’s doing it for research purposes, “You never know what kind of helpful information can be found until you find it, darling. If you think about it, I’m doing the most arduous work here! Now shoo.”

Occasionally, he can be convinced to mend clothing and the like. She approaches Astarion’s tent, knowing there’s about a 50/50 chance she’ll be able to talk him into fixing it for her. Better than it used to be, she thinks with a smirk.

Seeing the shirt in her hands as she walks up, Astarion doesn’t even wait before he says, “Oh no you don’t - you better not be coming over here with that. I’ve already mended plenty of clothing this week! It’s getting ridiculous really, I hadn’t realized I’d become the camp seamstress,” he huffs. “I mean honestly Tav, can’t you tell I’ve got plenty of reading to do,” he gestures to the books haphazardly stacked next to him. She can see the smile he’s trying to hide and knows he’ll do it for her if she chooses her next words carefully.

“I don’t see those books going anywhere anytime soon, Astarion.” Her eyes flick to his, “Plus, I’ll make it worth your while, I promise,” she says, knowing he’ll take the bait.

“Worth my while?” the corners of his lips twitch before revealing the smile he had tried hiding. She very much enjoys those smiles, the ones he doesn't mean to let slip. “I like the sound of that”, he purrs, effortlessly switching into a more flirtatious tone.

She steals one of his moves - a quick look up and down, as if shamelessly admiring his beauty while simultaneously sizing him up. Bringing her eyes to his, she flirts back with, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, handsome. We’ll have to see how good of a job you do before we work out payment.”

“That hardly sounds fair,” he fake pouts.

Time to appeal to his more practical side, “Besides, you need to make yourself look busy before you get pulled into doing something more labor intensive by the others.”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully before making up his mind, “Fine, I suppose you can’t keep walking around looking like a slob. Hand it here.” She goes to hand it over and he brushes his long fingers across hers purposefully. That flirtatious tone comes back, “And don’t forget, you owe me.”

She almost rolls her eyes, but reminds herself she had encouraged it. Sometimes he can be so frustrating. One second he’s there, present and having a good time, then something happens and she sees one of his many masks slip into place. It was difficult to spot at first, but now that she’s gotten to know him better, it’s hard not to notice. Tav still can’t pin down the why - it seems so random at times. Despite her curiosity, she doesn’t call him out on it. She’s gathered enough bits and pieces to know it’s not the kind of subject that leads to an easy conversation.

And to be fair, it is fun to flirt back and forth with him.

“See, was that so hard?” she teases before turning away. Waving over her shoulder she throws out a quick, “Thank you Astarion!” and is off.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters back, lost in thought, eyes still glued to her as she walks away.

Tav knows he won’t say it, but he likes people coming to him, needing his help. At least in this kind of way. The small, satisfied smile he has on his face when she examines his handiwork and praises him for the quality of it - “Wow, good as new!” - is all she needs to know.

She heads towards the edge of camp. Sure enough, Karloch is going to town on the surprisingly large tree limb she’d carried back a couple days ago. Tav catches Karloch’s eye just as her greataxe finds itself driven into the wood once again. Karloch waves, yelling out, “Just letting off some steam!” with a proud smile on her face. “Pun fully intended!”

Tav just chuckles and waves back.

----

It’s turning into a pleasantly cool evening, the sun will set in the next few hours but that gives her plenty of time to gather wood at her leisure - relishing the alone time this affords her.

She knows where she wants to go and starts heading that direction. They passed a cave the other day, but despite her pleas the others didn’t want to explore it, saying they were too tired. Tav suspects none of them are going to be interested in going back so she figures, if she has to go pick up sticks, then might as well do it somewhere interesting.

Her mind begins to wander. Thinking about the events of the last few days, dissecting a recent fight with some Harpies near the grove.

They’d caught the party by surprise. It was a rough start to the encounter. Shadowheart, who was closest to the beasts, immediately fell into a trance, charmed by their song. Karloch wasn’t in an ideal position either, too far from the harpies to charge them but also too low down for her ranged attacks to be effective. She settled for stepping in front of the child to create the best tiefling shield she could. That was good thinking on her part, Tav notes.

Tav and Gale caught each other’s eyes and silently agreed to move towards higher ground. Both scrambling up the opposite sides of the embankment, ready to use their ranged spells.

Despite the initial disadvantage, they were making good progress handling the beasts. That is, until two more flew in - this time heading straight for them. One descended on Gale, kicking him square in the chest. He was thrown off the embankment right as he used a fireball scroll to finish off the harpy singing across the water.

Thankfully, that broke Shadowheart’s trance and she quickly oriented herself to cast silence on the two harpies closest to her, a much welcomed relief. With the third preoccupied - trying to stomp Gale into the ground albeit - at least they didn’t have to worry about being charmed for now.

An arrow wizzes by, finding its way into the neck of the harpy attacking Gale. Astarion had tagged along that day as their fifth member, saying something about how dreadfully bored he was and that he needed to go to the market. It was a good thing Tav let him, he was the one really covering their asses at the moment. He had secured a hiding spot high on the nearby cliffs and relentlessly fired arrow after arrow, crippling their enemies from the shadows. With the one near Gale now critically wounded, Astarion immediately turned to shoot the one closing in on Shadowheart - it dropped right out of the air, hitting the ground hard. Tav sees it from the corner of her eye, nice one.

Karloch, happy to finally be able to properly hit the damn things, finishes off the one standing over Gale with a quick swing of her axe. She then proceeds to run to the now badly injured harpy lying on the ground, a fury of ruthless swings befall it and it soon lies still, thoroughly dead. The final harpy screeches and takes flight, in the next second Tav is pinned. She tried to free herself but was running on fumes, already hurt pretty badly. Astarion is the one who drives two arrows into its back, killing it before it can get another swipe on her. Shadowheart, out of breath but generally unhurt, runs over and proceeds to heal everyone. After almost getting their asses handed to them, they really needed it.

“What in the nine hells was that all about?!” Astarion yells, only sounding slightly hysterical. “I was practically carrying the whole team just now!” His pitch somehow increases, “And I’m not even supposed to be here!!”

They collectively groan. Rubbing her sore shoulder Tav just says, “Not now Astarion. We weren’t expecting to fight on this side of the grove.”

He scoffs, “Really though, is that how you all fight when I’m not here? Next time try to be a little more perceptive. You’re extremely lucky I came along today. I can’t always be the one saving you from danger!”

Tav glares at him, about to argue. Instead, Karloch steps in to defuse the strange tension that’s begun to form between the two of them. She smiles cheerfully, “Of course you can soldier, that was some top notch fighting out there.” Looking at the others she says, “Shall we head back to camp?” Her tone is light but they can tell it’s an order, not a question.

Shaking herself out of the daydream, Tav smiles - despite the ambush and the drama, the team had worked well together. They’ve been working well together for a while now, she reflects. In this relatively short amount of time, they really have fallen into a good rhythm. Learning to trust each other and adapting their fighting styles to compliment one another. Thinking back to what camp looks like right now, she realizes it’s not just battle they’ve fallen into a good rhythm with either. She feels a little bit better at the thought.

Slowing down Tav takes a moment to re-orient herself - she hadn’t realized how far she’d walked. The cave should be nearby but she’s not sure. Up ahead there's an overturned tree stump, they’d passed it the same day she spotted the cave. She relaxes, it shouldn’t be much further.

Marching on, the cool air has gotten even cooler, starting to feel heavy with moisture. The trees are swaying gently as the wind picks up, their leaves fluttering above her.

It’s going to rain, she realizes.

To her disappointment, there will be no time to explore the cave today. She turns to head back to camp, miffed about walking all this way for nothing, but knowing she’ll need to pick up her pace if she’s going to get back before it rains. She considers leaving without the wood, after all, they’re probably not going to be able to keep the fire going tonight with the rain. She decides against it, they’ll need dry kindling for the morning.

The storm clouds are rolling in and have darkened the sky, by proxy the forest darkens as well. This is not good, Tav thinks. She really needs to pick up the pace now. Her arms are completely full of twigs and branches, making it difficult to walk. She stops, shifting to get a better grip. It’s hard to see over the pile in her arms and the light is fading fast.

She should've just grabbed wood near camp then went exploring. She mentally kicks herself.

As Tav begins to hurry along again, she doesn’t get very far. A tree root jutting out of the earth finds itself in her path. She doesn’t see it and as she steps forward, directly on the root, her right ankle gives out. As Tav swings towards the dirt, she lets out a startled, “SHIT”.

She finds herself not just hitting the ground, but tumbling down into the ditch she’d been walking along. A fiery pain shoots up her leg. Tav groans as she rolls over and sits upright. Taking stock of herself, she tries moving her ankle but that intensifies the pain. Yeah, that’s messed up for sure. She reaches up to her brow where she feels a trickle of something wet. She brushes her fingers over the area and winces at the sting of a small cut. It’s bleeding, but that’s the least of her worries right now.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself. Getting back to camp will not be fun, but she’ll have to try her best. The wood is a lost cause, strewn about in a rough pile on the ground. She tries to gain her composure before attempting to prop herself against the side of the ditch. It’s a steep incline, she’ll need to stand to have a chance to pull herself out. She tries several times to shift to a better position, but with her right foot dangling uselessly she’s not going anywhere this way. The pain in her ankle is no joke, but she’s been hurt way worse than this before and kept going. It’ll be okay, she tells herself.

Her optimism is met with rain. The universe makes it clear that it is staunchly opposed to giving her a break today. It’s only sprinkling for now, but the incline out of the ditch is only going to get slicker.

----

Back at camp the others begin to wonder where she’s at. It's getting dark and they’ve noticed the rain clouds too. They’re gathered near the fire, discussing what they should do. “She said she might be a while,” Gale chimes in, “I bet she’ll be back any minute now. She’s not going to want to miss my delicious stew.” It’s a hopeful statement, but his voice still carries a tinge of worry.

Karloch frowns, “I don’t know Gale, she should be back by now. Gathering kindling doesn’t take that long, even if she was taking herself for a little walk.”

“Yeah, plus it’s about to rain.” Wyll backs her up.

While the group continues debating if they should go look for her or wait just a little longer, Astarion is quiet. He’s been painfully aware of the approaching rainstorm and how long it’s been since she left, but he also knows Tav is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

Though...they did see some juvenile gnolls the other day, but never found their den - he can’t shake the thought, something else occurring to him - shit and she probably ventured out to that damn cave she was going on about the other day.

He tries to push away the worry in the pit of his stomach, but those two thoughts make up his mind. “You lot do whatever you want - I’m not sitting around here any longer to wait until it starts pouring to go look for her,” he says, storming off in the direction she had exited camp. He hears Karloch and Wyll volunteer to go look too, splitting down different paths to cover more ground.

Astarion heads in the general direction of the cave. It’s a much farther walk than he was expecting, several times doubting if he was going in the right direction. Soon it starts raining lightly, and to his annoyance his nice clothes are getting wet, his poor shoes muddying as well. Ugh, and his hair must look a mess. He combs a hand through it, pushing it back and off his face. If Tav is back at camp right now and he’s out here for nothing he’s going to be pissed. With the path getting muddier by the minute, he considers heading back. The gnolls flash through his mind and a feeling of dread rises inside his chest.

No, not quite yet, he thinks.

Soon he sees the large stump they’d passed the other day - he’s getting close. Astarion keeps an eye out for any signs of Tav, soon coming across a rough pile of sticks down in a ditch. It looks suspiciously like someone had gathered wood and then chucked it down there. Looking a little closer he sees what appears to be drag marks moving away from the pile. Shit, that’s not good. The dread turns into real fear. Now he’s certain Tav has to be nearby.

“Tav?” he calls out loudly before he can stop himself. After all, someone or something nefarious could be lurking about. That thought is interrupted by Tav’s relieved voice calling back, “Astarion, is that you?”

Duh, he thinks, who else sounds like him? He hurries in the direction of her voice. She’s not far.

When he spots her, his throat feels tight. She looks an absolute mess - covered in mud, scratches down her chest and arms, and her head is bleeding. He rushes over and climbs down to her. “What in the hells are you doing down here? What happened? Are you ok?” He starts looking her over, positive she can hear the worry in his voice, but he doesn't care about that right now.

He looks rather disheveled, Tav observes. The rain has picked up and his hair is wet and matted to his head, his shoes and now his pants covered in mud. His shirt clings to his chest, slightly translucent from the rain. She’s never quite seen him like this. Focus Tav, she thinks.

“I hurt myself and couldn’t get out of the ditch,” she grimaces, gesturing to her ankle. “I was trying to drag myself to higher ground in case a flash flood came through here.”

“Well, that’s one smart thing you did.”

Tav wants to be offended, but now is not the time. She can see he’s upset - whether it’s at her or the situation she’s not sure. “Did you bring any healing supplies?” she asks hopefully.

He deflates, “Uhhh no, those seem to have, uh, evaded me.”

She just looks up at the sky, fat raindrops falling on her face, cursing whatever deity has it out for her today.

“What? Don't be like that. I rushed out of camp and came all this way through the rain and the wretched mud to rescue you.” He frowns. “Of course it would've been ideal if I had thought to grab a healing potion or two but..” trailing off there’s nothing else to say except, “I’m here alright??”

She lets out a sigh, “Just please get me out of this ditch before you get stuck down here too.”

She doesn't need to tell him twice. Astarion bends down and without warning throws Tav over his shoulder in one smooth motion. He’d already come to terms with the fact that he’s going to be covered in mud by the time they get out of here. She lets out a startled yelp. “Shit, Tav, I’m sorry - did I hurt you?” She can hear the worry creep back into his voice.

She feels a bit lightheaded, “Ah, no. You just surprised me. Didn’t expect to be hauled over your shoulder like a rag doll,” she tries to play it off with a joke, but it just comes out lamely. In actuality, she didn’t think he could lift her like that - but she won’t dare say that. He’s strong, don’t get her wrong, but not the Karloch or Lae’zel type of strong. It’s kind of impressive actually.

“Honestly Tav, if you’re going to keep criticizing my rescue attempt I can leave you right here.” While he is genuinely annoyed, they both know he doesn’t mean it one bit.

“No no, you’re doing a great job hero-ing it up. Please just get me out of here, I’m tired of sitting in the mud.”

He doesn’t even justify that with a response, instead taking a few steps forward and shifting her so he can boost her up to grab another tree root. She has to push up with both legs for a moment and she lets out an actual cry from the pain.

This is awful, Astarion thinks.

She makes it and he pulls himself up right behind her, she is grimacing in pain on her hands and knees. Astarion puts a hand on her back and her arm around his neck, helping her up to stand on one foot.

The rain is quickly turning into a downpour and it’s almost fully dark now. Now what? Try to carry her back to camp, through the mud and rain? He doesn’t think that’s an option at this point. They need to find shelter.

“You were out here looking for that damn cave weren’t you?” he asks.

She looks at him sheepishly, “Yeah it should be just past those trees.” She points to a nearby cluster of trees. “Are you thinking about sheltering there until the rain passes?”

He doesn’t answer her question, just scoops her up in his arms and starts walking.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she says, but doesn’t give him any more attitude than that. She’s starting to feel bad, knowing that this is not what Astarion had planned for his evening.

He just keeps looking forward, trying not to think about how nice she feels in his arms. She’s shivering, but compared to him she’s so warm against his chest. It feels good, clearing away some of the worry that's been knotting in there for the last couple hours. Relief, he supposes, unconsciously holding her a little tighter.

They reach the cave and he sets her down gently on a rock right inside the entrance. He peers further into the cave, obviously wondering if they’re the only occupants, the threat of gnolls popping back into his head. “I’ll be right back,” he says as he quietly makes his way further in. Astarion returns a couple minutes later and reports there’s nothing else in there with them. He picks Tav up again and carries her further into a larger, dryer portion of the cave.

She spots a bedroll in decent condition, discarded near what looks to have been an extinguished campfire. Some wood even remained stacked next to it. Someone must have been here recently.

“Do you think anyone will be coming back?” she asks, pointing to the firewood.

Astarion sets her down again, this time on the ground so she can lean against the wall. “No, I don’t think so. There’s too many cobwebs covering that pile, I doubt anyone has been here for a while.”

She agrees and relaxes a little. Her ankle is throbbing in pain, she’s really noticing how bad it is now that they’re in relative safety. Sounds about right, she thinks, shivering again.

Astarion looks at her, lips pressed together as if to keep himself from saying what’s really on his mind. How unusual.

“You’re drenched and disgusting.”

Ah. There it is. She fires back, “Well you’re not much better off, pal.”

His frown deepens. “Very observant Tav, that is in fact correct,” he hisses. His voice rises dramatically, echoing through the cave, “AND who’s fault might that be?”

Yikes, ok, she needs to cool it with the comments. He is understandably not in the mood for her shit right now. It’s just so hard to resist poking at him, she likes it when he gets riled up. And usually he does too, though he hides his amusement the best he can.

He takes a breath, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. Looking at the ceiling of the cave as if asking, why me?

“Look, I’m not going to catch a cold but you might,” he finally says, and she fears that frown on his face isn’t going away anytime soon.

“We can build a fire while waiting for the storm to pass,” she pauses before asking, “You can build a fire, right?”

She’s on thin ice. He huffs, “In theory, yes. In practice, I’m not sure. That’s usually Gale’s job.”

She knows he just needs some encouragement. “I think I have a flint in my satchel, grab it and I can walk you through it.” He turns and does so without any complaints - that’s also odd for him, she notes.

Once the fire is going she can see Astarion relax a little. Tav looks down at her muddy clothing. Astarion looks at her again, “You should probably take your clothes off.”

Tav understands what he’s saying, but still she jokes in a scandalized voice, “Astarion, now is hardly the time for that.” He rolls his eyes and she gets the tiniest smile out of him. She knew it, he can’t help himself either. She holds her hands up in peace, “Sorry, just trying to lighten up a pretty shit situation.”

Astarion shakes out the abandoned bedroll, ripping a strip of fabric from its bottom layer. He then lays it down near the fire. It’s not ideal but better than lying on the uncomfortable cave floor. “And I love that for you, darling, but excuse me if I’m still feeling a little on edge.”

There’s no real venom behind the words. That guilty feeling creeps back up on Tav. “Hey, I’m really sorry about this. I-”

He’s not ready to talk about it yet, interrupting her by saying, “At least take your pants off so I can look at your ankle.”

Tav gives up, she won’t argue this time. Moving to undo her pants she says, “I’m going to need some help with these. They’re soaked and I’m not the most…mobile right now.” She looks up at him, her exhaustion is starting to show, “Please?”

Something flashes across his face, a look she hasn’t seen before. It stays put this time, no flirtatious words or familiar mask taking its place. He moves closer, leaning down.

“Grab my shoulders,” he says, his tone a little gruffer than she’s used to. Tav does as he says, wrapping her arms around his neck. One of his arms wraps around her waist while the other hand travels up the back of her right thigh, holding that leg steady so she doesn’t have to put any pressure on it while he stands her up.

Clinging to him as he lifts her off the ground, her face finds its way into his neck. She exhales and can feel a shiver run down his body. Tav was not expecting whatever this is. Her heart rate picks up and she can feel a blush spread down her neck.

Astarion moves them towards where he laid out the bedroll. He doesn’t lay her down but instead continues to hold her tightly. He moves his leg between hers, removing his hand from her thigh and bracing her against his own, so her hurt leg still dangles a little off the ground. She feels tingly and a little lightheaded, she’s quick to blame it on the fact that she hasn’t eaten much tonight.

The arm wrapped around her waist helps keep her up while the other moves to her waistband. He pulls back and looks at her for permission, all she can do is nod breathlessly. He maneuvers his fingers gently into her waistband, sliding her pants past her butt and down to her thighs as far as he can go.

“I’m going to set you down now.” He places his hand on the back of her thigh again and begins lowering her back down. His voice still sounds a little strange.

She’s stunned - what the hell was that.

He doesn’t say anything else as he continues on, gently pulling her boots off first, her pants soon following. He makes sure to be especially careful with her injured foot. Her ankle is already swollen and a concerning shade of purple.

“What do you think doc?”, she breaks the tension in the air.

He clears his throat, his voice sounds normal again as he says, “Tsk, I don’t think you’re going to make it.” He shakes his head solemnly, “Such a shame - before all of this you were my favorite one at camp.”

He doesn’t leave her any time to retort before standing up to go lay out her pants on the other side of the fire. It won’t fix how muddy they are but it will dry them out. “Do you want to dry your shirt too, or no? I can always, ahem, help with that if needed.”

Tav can see the mask reforming, whatever happened moments ago slipping away. Don’t go, she thinks - instead she says, “No need, I’ve had you do enough for one day.” She only feels a little shy as she takes it off, tossing it over to him. He follows suit, stripping his shirt off, but briefly hesitating before slipping his pants off as well. He’s practically never the shy one, it’s something he’s done thousands of times - but with Tav he suddenly feels vulnerable.

Something in the air still feels weird between them. Tav can’t think of anything to say except, “Nice undies.” She apparently just cannot help herself with the comments today.

That charming face is fully back on. Deflecting, he makes a comment about her getting lost out here to seduce him. “All you had to do was ask and we could both be in my tent, in a similar state of undress, nice and warm right now.”

She looks at him and blurts out, “Why do you do that?”

His face drops for a second. “What do you mean?”

“Your face, it..changes sometimes, like you’re flipping a switch.” She hesitates before adding, “Or putting on a mask.”

“I’m not exactly sure what you’re getting at..” he starts to say, but he’s tired and decides to be somewhat honest. She’s certainly being direct with him. “Well, I suppose when you’re as pretty as I am dear, people expect a little flirtation.” He looks down at Tav, trying to get a read on her after asking him such a strange question. “Usually it’s welcomed, but...I mean, if you’re uncomfortable I can tone it down.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t mind per se, but I feel weird sometimes because it doesn’t always seem authentic.”

Shit, she’s way more perceptive than I thought.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way, but..” she trails off for a second. “You do know we can just be friends, right? I don’t need you to flirt with me to like you, Astarion.”

Now he really doesn’t know what to say.

“Why?” is the only thing that comes out of his mouth.

“Why would I like you even when you’re not flirting with me?”

“Yes, that’s usually what everyone wants.”

She’s starting to understand a little better now, so she says, “Well, I guess I don’t particularly want anything from you, Astarion.”

Ah, there it is, so she just doesn’t want him around in general. He can’t even lie to himself - it stings a little bit. He’s not used to being rejected, especially not by someone he actually gives a shit about. He laughs louder than he means to, “Well I can’t fathom why my company isn’t wanted - I’m a delight, if I do say so myself - but if you want me to leave then so be it. I can go and grab the others now that you’re in a safe place.”

She’s slightly baffled by his response, “What? No, Astarion, I do want you around. I just mean I will take what you’ll give me. I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give.”

Ok, now she’s really not making sense. What does that even mean? He tries to hide his confusion. “Ah ok I see...but why?” he asks again. This time there’s curiosity behind it - instead of an accusation in the form of a question.

She shrugs, “Do I need a reason? I enjoy you Astarion. I like your company, you’re fun to talk to. We’re friends, and friends don’t have to do anything for each other. We can just be.”

He doesn’t say anything so she continues, “I admire you in a lot of ways - how you speak your mind, your sense of humor, the way you indulge me when I’m being annoying.” She sees an amused look form on his face and she smiles, “How you make me feel protected.” Oh no, it’s getting too serious now - she recovers, “I mean, your proclivity for violence definitely comes in handy.” Her eyes swing to his with a mischievous look on her face.

She hadn’t even mentioned anything about my looks, Astarion thinks, digesting her words. He’s practically naked too. Usually he would feel offended, but this time it feels..nice. “We’re friends?” It’s the only thing he can think to say.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

This is not how he imagined this conversation, let alone this night, going. He decides it’s his turn now, “Well if we’re friends then let me ask you a question.”

Tav raises one eyebrow, “Go on.”

“Why did you go off all this way by yourself? And don’t you dare say it was just to explore this awful cave - there’s more to it.” Astarion knows he’s right. After all, Tav’s not the only one good at reading people.

Tav sighs. “I guess I’ve just been very overwhelmed lately. I needed some time away, to sort through my thoughts and figure shit out. Just exist without the weight of the world on my shoulders for a little bit.”

Astarion ponders that for a second then says, “I may not have the most experience in this arena, but isn’t that the kind of thing friends help out with? ‘Venting’, I think they call it.” She snorts and he continues, “Everyone is always coming to you, but you never come to us.”

He’s not sure if he should say this next part, “You say I have a mask, but I see yours too.”

He’s not wrong, she thinks. “I don’t know, everyone else just has these big huge things going on and I’m just..here. How could I not help?”

He rephrases his statement into a question, “Ok yes, but why do you feel the need to help literally every single person you come into contact with, yet still can’t ask for it in return?”

She looks at her hands, another sigh escaping her lips, “Probably because I’m used to handling my own problems by myself.”

The thought of her being alone is surprising to him. Tav seems like the kind of person who has lots of friends back home. She’s funny and charismatic, always taking care of others - he can’t think of one reason why she wouldn’t have people eager to be her friend. He’s not going to dig further into that at the moment, he senses it’s not what she needs right now.

“I may not know much about friendship, but I do happen to know a few things about loneliness.” He sits down facing her, gingerly propping her hurt leg up in his lap and carefully begins to wrap her ankle with fabric he tore from the bedroll. His bedside manner isn’t the worst she’s experienced. “Back in Baldur’s Gate I couldn’t let myself get close to anyone. If I did, they would just become another weakness for Cazador to exploit against me.” His face twists, “And honestly, people weren’t exactly lining up looking for friendship from me.” He keeps going, “What I do know is the last several weeks traveling in a team has been…good. I feel lighter, safer. Like I can actually somewhat enjoy my days, even when you all are acting insufferable.”

He just had to throw that last part in there, Tav thinks - letting out a small chuckle. She doesn’t care, she’s just happy to hear him open up to her like this. She feels less alone.

He moves his hand to her shin, not even thinking as he nervously rubs small circles into her skin. “And Tav, I attribute most of that to you.”

Her breath catches for a second at the look on his face, she can tell he means it when he says, “I may not be the best at it, but I want to be here for you as well.” He clears his throat. “So you need to get it together and start relying on your friends.”

Her face is on fire, but she tries to play it cool. Once again, she was not expecting that at all.

“What I’m hearing you say is that you do like me after all,” she teases him, a grin on her face now.

He groans in response, “Don’t make me regret this.”

They both sit in silence for a minute, each thinking about what the other said.

“So hypothetically, what if I wanted to keep flirting with you?” Astarion asks, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

She laughs, of all things that’s what he wants to circle back to? “If you want to flirt with me, I’m all for it - but only if you hypothetically really want to.” She tries to read his face.

He looks at her now, eyes straying to her lips. She’s so beautiful in the light of the fire. Hair wet, cheeks rosy, eyes sparkling with amusement. Even slightly scratched up and muddy, she's a vision. He can’t stop himself, “And what if..what if I wanted to kiss you?”

Tav's heart is racing so fast that she can feel her own pulse. What is going on today? First the worst luck she’s had in a while, and now this? The universe is messing with her.

Time to put her cards on the table. She wants to show him she’s sure about him - sure about whatever the hell is going on right now. “I would welcome it.”

He moves her leg gently, placing it back on the ground. In the next moment he’s moved up next to her, studying her face the whole time. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

His eyes are so round and soft - the softest expression she's ever seen on his face. His voice is much lower now, "What if I wanted to kiss you right now?"

Looking to his lips and then back at his eyes, she leans towards him. Only a breath away now, Tav whispers, “Then I would kiss you back.”

And with that he closes the distance, her lips are so soft and warm that it makes him shiver. His tongue swipes against her bottom lip and she welcomes him. It’s not fair how good she tastes. His hands come up to cup both sides of her face and he kisses her more deeply. Her head is swimming, it’s by far one of the most passionate kisses she’s ever received.

He pulls back, slightly breathless, and moves his face to rest against her cheek. “I was really worried about you today.” It's a confession.

She doesn’t move, just says, “I know,” and brings her hand to cup the back of his neck. She can feel the tension there. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Anytime.”

And she knows he means it.

Bonus:

“Ok but seriously, where are the others at? They just let you venture off alone to rescue me?”

He shrugs, “I know at least Karloch and Wyll also went out looking, but I’m sure they’re back at camp by now.”

“What about the others?”

“They just don’t like you as much as I do apparently.” he cracks a mischievous smile.

“That’s messed up.” She says, but she’s laughing. He loves it when she laughs.

Astarion chuckles, “I can tell you that Gale’s probably making love to his stew right about now.”

Tav shakes her head still smiling, “That sounds painful.”

#holy dialogue batman #what's better than stripping down and talking about your feelings #I just know Tav has gotta have crippling anxiety at some point #alt title: dude where's my tav #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #bg3 tav #astarion fanfic #karloch #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #lae'zel

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bellofthemeadow · 1 year

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Harrington!reader, Steve’s little sister. Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.

OF COURSE MY DEAR ANON! I am so sorry it took forever to address this request! I have just started my final year of Uni, and with four seminars and graduate applications, I have not had any time to write consistently! But this idea was too enticing to pass up, so thank you very much for sharing it! For those waiting on other fics, I am slowly but surely getting back into the groove of writing more consistently so it should all come out sooner rather than later (hopefully) and I always welcome more fics or one shot ideas! Thank you to y'all for bearing with me, I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️

No warnings excpet for some violence (against Jason Carver so thats fine I think) and some heavy make out session

Word Count: 5.3K

Masterlist

Hit Me Baby One More Time

You had gotten your first taste of popularity on your very first day of middle school, a couple of years ago. That entire week leading up to it had been filled with fear and stress about what people would think of you. Overwhelmed, you had spent the last few days of your summer agonizing over your outfit choice, turning your daily fashion show into a reluctant performance for your big brother, Steve. Despite his huffs and puffs, he had reassured you that everything would go smoothly, but you couldn't help to worry. Eventually, you ended up settling on a cute white dress that reached just above your knees, paired with a soft baby pink cardigan. You had hoped it would be enough to get some of the right kind of attention that Steve always talked about.

In hindsight, you realized that you might have been a tad dramatic as when lunchtime had rolled around, a group of girls had approached you, giggling with excitement. "Are you Steve Harrington's sister?" they had asked-whispered with bright envious eyes. You slowly nodded, and with elated giggles, they ushered you over to their table, where the popular crowd was hanging out. It turned out your brother had quite the reputation, and while you knew he was popular, you hadn't fully grasped the extent to which the name Harrington would impact your social life. For you, Steve was just the idiot older brother who used Farah Fawcet's hairspray to keep his dumb hair in place – But to everyone else, it seemed that Steve was a pretty big deal. So, you were, it seemed, a legacy, and the rest, as they say, was history. And that very day, you also ended up meeting your future best friend, Chrissy Cunningham, who you would grow to love with all your heart.

Five years had come and gone, and now, you were finally well-established into your senior year, ready to graduate in the spring. And while it was true that your older brother might have facilitated your initial entry into the realm of popularity, you had since etched out a distinctive name for yourself. As your brother moved on to new chapters in his life (namely an underpaid job at family video), your own journey through high school took a markedly different path. In fact, your popularity had continued to ascend, like a rising star in the night sky.

Though the Harrington name may have laid the foundation, you had meticulously built upon it, brick by brick. You had cultivated your own unique persona, and it had become a force to be reckoned with in the hallways of your school. No longer living in the shadow of your brother's glory days, you had emerged as a charismatic figure in your own right.

You had become The Harrington sibling who truly counted, especially after the dramatic showdown between Steve and Billy Hargrove during his own senior year. In the aftermath of that clash, your brother's social standing had taken a considerable hit, with much of his social credit being seized by the mullet-wearing bad-boy. The Harrington name, which had once been associated with Steve's swagger, now conjured images of a radiant, saccharine smile, cheerleading outfits, and a personality as pinky-sweet as bubblegum.

While Chrissy indisputably reigned as the queen of Hawkins High, some believed it was only because you had no desire to claim that throne—a belief rooted in truth as you had no interest of being the queen of anything, especially Hawkins High as beyond Chrissy, you harboured little affection for the other members of the popular clique. Whether it was Jason Carver and his cronies or the remainder of the cheer squad, you couldn't help but find them increasingly vapid.

Nestled at the popular table right in the heart of the bustling cafeteria, always donning Hawkins’ green cheer outfit, a nagging sensation of inauthenticity always clung to you. Hitching deep into your soul, making you feel like the fraud you’ve always believed yourself to be as although your elevated social status had smoothed your journey through high school, ensuring a constant stream of party invitations, a steadfast companion, and even a few favors from teachers who were drawn to your preppy smile and sunny disposition, it all felt like a facade, far removed from your true self.

You’ve always known how deep inside, there were facets of who you really were that you couldn't openly share with anyone but Chrissy. She alone knew of your profound love for fantasy and science fiction novels. Nothing brought you more joy than retreating home to dive headlong into the mystical realms crafted by H.P. Lovecraft or to lose yourself once more in the pages of your well-worn copy of "Frankenstein." Yet, these passions remained concealed beneath the veneer you projected: the princess of Hawkins High, painted in shades of pink, sweet, and deceptively perfect.

The idea of letting those hidden, nerdy passions of yours see the light of day felt like a risky bet, one that could potentially leave you feeling incredibly alone at Hawkins High. The thought of losing friends and having nowhere to sit during lunch was a constant source of worry. You had faith in Chrissy's unwavering support, regardless of your social standing, but you couldn't bear the idea of burdening her. She was just so kind, always forgiving even to those who didn't deserve it, and you didn't want to be the one responsible for pulling her down.

As a result, the decision to keep these aspects of your identity hidden weighed heavily on your heart. It felt like an unspoken loneliness, a sacrifice you were making to preserve the fragile balance of the life you'd carefully constructed in high school. Hawkins High had its own intricate ecosystem, and you were very much a part of it. Your place within that system was delicate, and you couldn't afford to disrupt it, fearing that it might set off a chain reaction that could destabilize everything. You had no intention of being the one to upset the frail high school biome of Hawkins High.

Now, however, your situation was far from ideal as you found yourself sandwiched between Carly and Tina during lunch, and today, they were even more exasperating than usual. There seemed to be some sort of fallout from Tina's last party, something involving a boy, and now the two girls communicated exclusively through snarky remarks, making the tension rise with every snip from either girl. A brewing headache was beginning to claw at your temples as you were waiting for the explosion to erupt sooner rather than later.

What was happening in front of you wasn’t any better as you were given a front-row seat to the somewhat uncomfortable sight of Jason Carver deeply engrossed in a passionate kiss with Chrissy. She appeared to be on the brink of embarrassment, her attempts to gently push Jason away carried out with shy reluctance. "Jason, please," she implored, her manicured hand finding its way to his chest, a plea in her eyes. "Not in front of everyone..."

In response, Jason merely rolled his eyes dismissively. "Come on, baby," he insisted, his voice low and unconcerned. "No one's even paying attention to us."

You couldn't help but scowl, unhappiness etching your delicate features as you watched the uncomfortable display unfold before you. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You cleared your throat and loudly exclaimed, "Hey, Chrissy?" All eyes turned to you, and you continued, "Do you think we could slip away from lunch a bit early to go over the routine we've been practicing for the upcoming game? I really want to make sure I've got it down perfectly before tonight's match."

Chrissy's sigh of relief was almost audible, and you could sense her gratitude. In contrast, Jason huffed unhappily, clearly irritated by the interruption. He muttered something about leaving you girls to your conversation before he got up and headed to chat with one of his buddies at the far end of the table.

You and Chrissy shared a quick, wordless girl-to-girl conversation. All the words you needed were conveyed through a bombastic side-eye from you and a subtle nod of your head toward Jason. Chrissy responded with a playful roll of her eyes and a slight shake of her shoulder, silently agreeing with your sentiment.

As your eyes shifted away from Chrissy, they unexpectedly locked onto the deep brown ones of Eddie Munson. Two distinct emotions surged from deep within you. One was a rush of excitement as the warmth of your crush enveloped you, causing your face to flush as red as a ripe apple under his gaze. But in an instant, that crush felt almost crushing when you realized that it wasn't you that Eddie was looking at, but rather Chrissy's high ponytail that had captured his attention.

Eddie and Chrissy. Chrissy and Eddie. ChrissyandEddie. It was an undeniable fact that the guy you had the most enormous crush on happened to be utterly smitten with your best friend. It felt almost tragically comical, if you were being honest with yourself. Throughout high school, countless guys had mustered the courage to ask you out, but you had dismissed them all without a second thought. Football jocks, band nerds, potheads, music fanatics – none of them could hold a candle to Eddie Munson in your eyes.From the very moment you first crossed paths with Eddie during your freshman year, your heart had been irreversibly, completely, and utterly captivated by the charismatic and outspoken boy. You were utterly unprepared for it, not like you were out there seeking Cupid's arrow to pierce your heart. You had simply been an unsuspecting victim of one of its whims, but the exquisite pain that followed was worth it. At least, you hoped so.

Thanks to Eddie's recurring attempts at redoing his senior year and your placement in advanced classes, your worlds intersected more than once. One particularly unforgettable encounter unfolded in Mrs. Allen's math class, where the teacher had a peculiar notion that pairing the class's worst student (Eddie) with its best (you) would somehow work magic. You were left a bit shy and entirely tongue-tied in his presence, but Eddie had an uncanny talent for leaning in close and delivering a barrage of side-splitting, utterly inappropriate observations about Mrs. Allen that left you snorting with laughter. For a glorious three months, Eddie was your math partner in crime, and during that time, you dared to believe that something more could evolve from your interactions. If only you could string together coherent sentences without tripping over your words.

However, as fate would have it, the teacher eventually grew tired of her seating arrangement, deciding it was high time to shake things up. This twist in your high school narrative resulted in you and Eddie being separated, an alteration you weren't particularly thrilled about. The new arrangement effectively put a damper on your burgeoning connection.

It was in the midst of this seating shuffle that Eddie tossed a rather loaded question your way, catching you off guard. "Your friend Chrissy," he began, as you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. "Is she still with that Carver douche?" Your gaze faltered as you met his, a nod escaping your lips as a wave of disappointment surged within you. Inwardly grappling with the sting of unspoken heartache, you found yourself clutching the hem of your cheer skirt almost desperately. Without another word, you retreated to your newly assigned seat, a sense of melancholy lingering like a shadow and bitter disappointment coating your tongue.

Even now, your gaze would involuntarily flicker to Eddie whenever you found yourself in the same room. Often, he'd be engrossed in conversations with his bandmates or his D&D group, leaving you on the outside looking in. It was a conflicting sensation, feeling his presence so near yet so far away. If only you could gather the nerve to strike up a conversation with him, but you hesitated. After all, you were the popular girl, the one who played by the rules, and good girls weren't supposed to mix with people like Eddie, no matter how much you desperately longed for it. Perhaps during math class today, you thought, you might find a plausible excuse to approach him. Maybe something as simple as asking about the homework or...

"And what the hell do you think you're staring at, Freak!?" The sudden hush that swept over the cafeteria was palpable as every head turned toward Jason, who had abandoned your table and was now striding purposefully toward the one where Eddie and his friends were seated. A chill coursed through your veins, causing your face to pale. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the unfolding drama as Eddie rose from his seat. While he appeared outwardly confident, the telltale clenching and unclenching of his hand betrayed the nervousness bubbling beneath the surface. It was clear to you that what he was displaying might just be a facade of bravado.

"Did you dribble that orange ball a few too many times, Carver?" Eddie sarcastically chimed in. His words hung in the air, an open challenge that seemed to stoke the flames of Jason's anger. In a fit of rage, Jason lunged forward, grabbing Eddie by the front of his well-worn jeans jacket. The cafeteria held its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in.

A gasp escaped your lips, a sharp, involuntary intake of breath as the dramatic confrontation unfolded before your eyes. Abruptly, you shot up from your seat, causing Chrissy to turn around in surprise. She sent you an uncertain look as you started to stride toward the two boys. It was as if you were possessed by a force stronger than yourself, you couldn’t let whatever was happening continue – you had to do something!

"Don't try to bullshit me, freak!" Jason's voice reverberated through the cafeteria, anger and scorn dripping from his words. "I saw you looking at Chrissy. You think you can just lay your eyes on her, you freak? She isn't yours; you're nothing but trailer trash! Don't you ever dare to look at her again, alright? Or I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!" Jason was so close to Eddie's face that his spittle sprayed across the other boy's features. He shoved Eddie backward, and it was at that moment, as you were making your way between the mass of students that had clustered around Jason and Eddie that you felt a surge of red-hot anger like nothing you had ever felt before.

"Do I make myself clear, freak?" Jason continued, his voice dripping with malice. "Or do I need to send my boys to deal with you and your pathetic group of losers?" Eddie looked incensed, but he cowered under Jason's menacing threat.

"I...wasn't...looking," Eddie enunciated each word through gritted teeth, avoiding Jason's eyes. Jason burst into fake laughter, glancing around at the onlookers.

"Does the freak have a crush?" he taunted, his voice cruel and derisive. "That's hilarious. You honestly think you'd have a chance with Chrissy? Be realistic, freak. What is it now, twice repeating your senior year?" Eddie's face turned a deep shade of pink, shame washing over him as Jason's taunts struck at his insecurities. His shoulders sagged with each insult, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Everyone knows anyway that the only way a freak like you could ever get close to a girl is when you and your little cult of Satan practice some sacrifices," Jason continued, his words laced with venom. "I'm even surprised they let people like you in here. Everyone knows what kind of trash your dad was, it ain't surprising that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree…”

You pushed your way through the crowd, determination propelling you forward. Without a second thought, you strode purposefully toward the back of Jason. Eddie's surprised gaze locked onto you as you confidently approached them.

You extended your arm and lightly tapped Jason on the shoulder, effectively cutting off his rant mid-sentence. The abruptness of your action prompted Jason to whirl around to face you, his typically handsome features now contorted into a repulsive mask of anger. It was a stark contrast to the carefully cultivated "cool-guy" image he often projected. But deep down, you knew this enraged countenance was his true face, hidden behind the facade. In fight or flight mode, you recalled your brother Steve's advice about fighting, which you had stored away in your memory, "Sis," Steve's voice echoed in your mind, "when you throw a punch, put your entire body behind it."

And that's precisely what you did. With every ounce of your body weight, you thrust your fist forward directly into Jason's face. The cafeteria was filled with a sharp crack, echoing through the room, followed by a collective gasp from everyone present. An eerie silence descended upon the cafeteria.

Jason lay sprawled on the floor, a violent stream of blood gushing from his nose, while you clutched your hand close to your chest. Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes. No one had ever warned you that hitting someone would hurt like an absolute nightmare! It ] wasn’t like that in the movies!

Your gaze landed on Eddie, and you noticed a peculiar expression take over the young metalhead’s face – His brown gaze held something unfamiliar, a look you had never seen throughout the time you had been admiring him from afar. I was as though he were seeing you – like he was attempting to decipher the mechanics of your very being. It caught you off guard, this intensity in his stare, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

“YOU BITCH! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!” Jason roared from his sprawled position on the ground.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Eddie, you redirected it toward the fallen boy who cut a rather pathetic figure at your feet. Curling your lip in disdain, you adopted your most haughty tone and huffed, "You, Jason Carver, are the problem here!"

Jason, still sprawled on the floor with a nosebleed, glared up at you, his anger palpable, "You little—"

Before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a stern gesture. "Save it, Jason. You had this coming."

A stunned silence blanketed the cafeteria, every eye fixed on the unfolding confrontation. It was as if time had frozen, and the entire room held its breath in rapt attention as Hawkins' princess unleashed her verbal assault on the school's reigning king.

In that moment, you felt like you had the entire cafeteria in a chokehold, and you were determined not to let this opportunity slip away, not after what Jason had put Eddie through. Gathering your resolve, you continued, your voice dripping with disdain, "Do you honestly believe you can bully and belittle people just because they don't conform to your narrow definition of 'normal'? Well, I've had enough of your toxic attitude! You, my dear Jason, are the most insufferable idiot I've ever had the displeasure of encountering in my entire life! And I am done catering to whatever you and your dumb friends say!”

Jason struggled to get up, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Turning back to Jason, you crossed your arms and delivered your final message with authority. "Consider this a warning, Jason. Mess with Eddie or anyone else again, and you'll have me to answer to."

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Principal Higgins' thunderous voice pierced through the otherwise eerily silent cafeteria. In an instant, your confidence evaporated, leaving you feeling pale and exposed. You were caught off guard, unable to process what to do or say.

Before you could even react, a familiar, warm hand firmly grabbed yours, yanking you along as they sprinted in the opposite direction, forcefully pushing people out of the way. It was a grip you knew well, and you didn't hesitate to follow Eddie as he practically dragged you toward the exit of the cafeteria.

The scene you left behind was nothing short of chaotic. The entire school stood in a collective stupor, mouths agape in disbelief. Jason Carver, his face an alarming shade of red, appeared on the brink of an aneurysm as he struggled to regain his composure. Principal Higgins, in his authoritative fury, barked orders at the bewildered students, demanding answers and an immediate end to the commotion.

As you reached the exit and the clamor of the cafeteria began to fade, you couldn't help but let out a giggle of exhilaration. Eddie continued to lead you, now behind the school building and into the dense woods that bordered the campus. The farther you ventured into the secluded forest, the more you appreciated the sudden escape from the madness. Eventually, Eddie brought you to a worn-out picnic table, the wood weathered by years of exposure to the elements. Eddie finally managed to catch his breath. He exhaled heavily and asked, "What the hell... hfff... was that?!"

You leaned against the picnic table, still catching your own breath, and grinned at Eddie. "That, Eddie, was me finally giving Jason Carver a taste of his own medicine. That douchebag had it coming!"

Eddie let out a loud surprised laugh while still trying to catch his breath, his eyes still wide from the unexpected turn of events. "Well, I've gotta say, sweetheart, that was quite the show back there. You really let him have it, you got a mean hook princess." A warm flush of pride swept over you as you soaked in Eddie's praises. How long had you waited to hear him say something like that—to acknowledge you and gaze at you as if you were the most wonderful girl in the world? It was a feeling you had been yearning for so long, and if you were to die right now, you would die happy!

Eddie's warm, chocolate-coloured gaze landed on you, and it felt as though it softly swept over every inch of your being. He spoke, his voice filled with curiosity, "I don't think anyone was expecting Hawkins' princess to come to the defence of the 'freak.' You know they won't let you forget this, right? Why would you risk all that for little old me, Harrington?"

You let out a sigh, the weight of his inquisitive gaze pressing on you. As you closed your eyes briefly, you grappled with the emotions that had been swirling within you since the first time you had laid eyes on Eddie. A small smile crept onto your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, fixing them on the boy of your dreams. "You're worth it, Munson."

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, taking three steps closer to you. His large, warm hands, bearing tiny scars from playing the guitar, gently swept across your cheeks as he gazed intently into your eyes. "Do you mean that, Harrington? Because there's no going back if I kiss you right now—it's you and me, the princess and the 'freak.' You won’t climb back from that fall.”

You glanced at your right hand, the knuckles scraped and the skin raw, with a slight swelling on your wrist. "I think it's a little too late for that anyway," you sheepishly admitted. Eddie smiled warmly, his eyes filled with admiration, before gently taking your hand in his two larger ones. He slowly brought your bruised knuckles to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on each of them, causing your breath to hitch.

"Who knew that the princess of Hawkins High was Indiana’s future boxing champion," Eddie softly joked, his voice laced with affection. "I just feel bad for this pretty, soft hand – all bruised and battered to protect me, like the prettiest knight in pink armor coming to my rescue." You couldn't help but swoon at his words as Eddie continued to softly kiss your hand, his gaze slowly lifting to meet yours, his eyes filled with… Love? Tenderness? A girl could dream.

A warm smile curved across Eddie's lips, and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his in a searing kiss. As you both savored each other, Eddie's hand slowly wrapped around the base of your neck, holding you close to him. As you were trying not to faint from the sheer pleasure this moment was bringing you, a flash of remembrance rushed through you, snapping you back from your trance and causing you to break the kiss and catch your breath. You whispered softly against Eddie's lips, "What about Chrissy?"

Eddie nuzzled your face with his nose, his lips brushing lightly against your skin. "What about her?" he retorted playfully. "I mean... I thought... I thought you had a thing for her," you admitted meekly.

Eddie smirked against your cheek. "If I did, I wouldn't be kissing you right now, right?" His voice held a teasing edge as he continued to shower your neck with tender kisses.

You closed your eyes, feeling a mix of contradicting emotions – wanting to keep going to feel more of him, wishing him to stop playing with your heart because you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. "I mean it, Eddie... I don't want to be your second choice."

Eddie stopped his ministrations and returned to your face, holding your gaze with his. "You were always my first choice, Eddie," you confessed, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. "And I don't think I could handle being your backup plan."

Eddie's whispers were tender as he wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks. "Nononono, sweetheart. Don't cry, please," he implored softly. "You were always my first choice." His words held a reassuring sincerity that began to soothe your racing heart. But you wouldn’t be so easily swayed, as much as you loathed Jason Carver, you had witnessed first hand how Eddie seemed enraptured with Chrissy.

You huffed in disbelief, but Eddie insisted, urging you to meet his gaze. "No, it's true. Hey, look at me," he gently encouraged. "I never thought I would ever have a chance with a girl like you. You know, you're like my dream girl, right?" You gave him an uncertain look, still wrestling with your doubts. "You always stare at Chrissy, though. And you did ask me if she was still with Jason, remember?"

Eddie released your cheeks and took a step back, embarrassment tinging his cheeks as he used a piece of his shaggy hair to shield himself from you. "I wasn't looking at Chrissy. You're always with Chrissy, so I was looking at you," he admitted, his voice tinged with shyness. "And I only asked you that because I panicked. I was going to ask you out, but the guys had been teasing me for weeks, telling me I was too much of a coward to do it. I guess they were right because I chickened out."

As Eddie continued, his embarrassment grew, and he took another step back. He held the piece of hair in front of his face, as if to hide himself from you. "I've actually had a crush on you since last year," he confessed, his words shocking you.

"Are you joking?!" you blurted out, astonished.

He shook his head, his warm brown eyes holding your gaze. "Not at all, princess," he began with a soft smile. "It was last year. You were on your way back from cheer practice, and you were in a hurry, holding a huge backpack. It happened so fast that you didn't even realize a book had fallen out."

His eyes sparkled as he continued, his tone becoming more animated. "I saw it lying there, and curiosity got the best of me – I picked it up, and to my surprise, it was a copy of 'The Hobbit.’” He grinned as if sharing a secret. "I was planning to return it to you, honestly, but then, when I opened it, I saw that there was a bunch of notes in the margins." Eddie started grinning even more as he continued “All there in the margins, notes, thoughts, musings. It was like reading your mind with every turn of the page. Your insights, your emotions, your laughter, and even your frustrations were all there in the margins. I knew I had stumbled upon the most precious treasure in the universe – it was a private window into you."

Your breath hitched at his words, and as Eddie spoke, you felt a warmth spreading through you, "It felt like we were close," Eddie continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "I couldn't put the book down. It was like having a conversation with you, even when you weren't around. I realized how much we had in common, how you saw the world, and it fascinated me.”

The thought that Eddie had held onto that copy of 'The Hobbit,' with your notes and thoughts, all this time was both surprising and heartwarming. Damn, he was perfect.

"Fuck, I sound so creepy," Eddie confessed, breaking your reverie. He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.

But you weren’t creeped out, far from it. For the first time in your life, you felt completely understood by someone – inside and out. "No, Eddie," you whispered softly, your heart swelling with love. "You don't sound creepy at all. You sound... perfect." A sweet cocky grin got etched on Eddie’s lips “Perfect, eh?”

Getting overwhelmed by his stare, you tried to play it cool and diverted his question by teasingly asking, "So you’ve had a big fat crush on me for a while, right?"

Eddie chuckled, taking a step closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. "Don't get too high and mighty, princess," he said with a warm smile, his voice laced with adoration. "From the looks of it, you've got a pretty big crush on little old me too…"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling a delightful warmth in the pit of your stomach. "I can neither confirm nor deny that," you replied in a sing-song voice, your eyes never leaving his.

Eddie's smile deepened, his gaze filled with affection. With a tender touch, he placed his hands on your waist, and before you knew it, he had spun you around. You couldn't help but let out a joyful squeak as you twirled together in a sweet, romantic dance. As he gently lowered you back to the ground, his strong arms remained securely wrapped around your back, pulling you close.

In that intimate moment, it felt as though the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you entwined in each other's embrace. Your breaths synchronized, and you lost yourselves in each other's eyes, the unspoken promise of a beautiful future passing between you.

"Hey, Eddie," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but filled with affection and longing.

Eddie's gaze softened even more, his eyes filled with tenderness as he held you close. "Yeah, princess?"

With a radiant smile, you leaned in closer to him, your heart singing with love. "I've got a big fat crush on you too."

A soft, contented sigh escaped Eddie's lips, and he held you even tighter as if he never wanted to let you go. "Good." And without another word, he pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. Nothing ever tasted sweeter.

“You gonna be alright sitting with the freaks now?” “As long as I sit with you Eddie, I could not care less.”

The fallen princess and the freak," you thought contentedly, "that has the ringing of a love story for the ages.” And all it took was that punch you threw at Jason Carver's face for you and Eddie to find your way to each other.

#eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #chrissy cunningham #jason carver

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ussgallifrey · 3 months

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(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 26

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Canon divergence, dark themes, descriptions of dead bodies and corpses, dialogue taken directly from Avengers: Age of Ultron, frequent mentions of dead bodies, graphic violence, language, moderate body horror, violence.

✦ Word Count: 15.2k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Cinematic Soundtrack: Here

✦ Author's Note: [more at the end of the chapter]. This one gets a little dark. Brace yourselves.

[Master List]

The mechanical hum of the jet engines whir on as the auto-pilot maintains your altitude. With Tony’s tech in hand, you’re able to bring up a holographic map of the landscape. Glimmering blue neon lights showcase the 3D rendering of Strucker’s fortress and the nearby city. The faces of the team are grim, at best, with worry lines drawn taut as you lay out the plan.

“We’re going to focus on the evacuation process first and foremost. With any luck, we’ll get the main populace to a safe distance before we need to deal with Ultron. With that said, however, our presence alone will likely not be going unnoticed.”

Steve nods in agreement, shimmering blue blueprints drifting across his hand as he zooms in on the map.

“Our main purpose here is to assist the civilians, after that, we’re going to have Ultron’s eyes set on us. We know he has the cradle and the scepter. If he’s going to do something with them, it’s going to be fast. He likely knows we’re already approaching.”

You take it back over, “Our heaviest hitters are going to be the first wave for him. I need Stark and Banner with me. Once Thor arrives, that will give us another advantage. Steve, Clint, Natasha, you’re going to need to keep on the evacuation. If any rogue bots come along, you’re going to be the main defense for the people.”

Bruce clears his throat and your eyes immediately fall upon the doctor.

“Uhm, actually, about that…”

A sigh falls from your lips. Sparring the supersoldier a look, you gently tug on Bruce’s arm, “Let’s talk. Shall we?”

You escort the slightly befuddled man to the back of the jet while Steve continues on in your stead, “Sam’s en route, he’ll meet us once we land…”

“Bruce.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I can help with the evacuation. By the time we get Thor here - ”

“We need the Hulk.”

“Well, what if I don’t want to bring him out?”

Your shoulders drop as you stare down at the scientist.

“I know you don’t think that I understand your situation - ”

He snorts, crossing his arms with bristling agitation, “Because you don’t.”

You let him have a moment before you continue forward. “You don’t want to bring him out around a civilian populace. I understand that, Bruce, I do. But if we don’t have our best - our strongest - to deal with Ultron? Then there’s no point to any of this and we should just turn around and watch the world fall at our feet.”

His hands drop to his sides and his eyes become unwilling to meet your face, but still, you press on.

“You’re not the only one, you know, still dealing with the aftermath of yesterday. Do you think I’ve forgotten what I almost did? What my rage was nearly capable of doing? Because I haven’t, Bruce. I’m actively trying to focus my attention on what we’re about to do because that is where the true danger lies. And tomorrow, once we hopefully walk away from this and the day is saved, then I will deal with my own guilt and anger. And I will try to right my wrongs. But for now… we have to fight.”

You finish your words with a hand on his shoulder.

“Like it or not, hate him or not, he is necessary for us to have a possible victory. Without him, Sokovia just might not be standing when we’re done.”

Bruce exhales through his nose, nostrils flaring as he peers up at you.

“God, you’re worse than Rogers when it comes to speeches,” he sighs, rubbing at his temple. “Fine, you get him. One round! Then I’m done.”

“I can work with that,” you offer before you both return to the group.

As you cross over farm fields and pastures filled with grazing animals, Tony flies up alongside the jet.

“What, were you seriously going to start the party without me?”

Luckily, he drops the attitude pretty fast and confirms with Steve that he’s been working through different scans to locate Ultron since he crossed the Sokovian border.

“Big guy’s hiding out in his fortress of solitude,” Tony hypothesizes, hand on his jaw. “Bet my money on it that he’s got the cradle under lock and key.”

“Then that’s where we go,” you decide, nodding at the billionaire.

Clint lands the jet just outside of the city’s limits, in roving farmland and freshly plowed fields. The archer hoists his quiver over his shoulder, pulling Natasha off for a quiet moment in the corner of the jet. You can’t help but stare at the couple as they pull away from the view of the others.

Was it strange that you hadn’t noticed that development? Was it more obvious to you, now, knowing that they were in fact together?

“You good?”

Looking up, you’re graced with the presence of the supersoldier.

“Fantastic, really,” you say with a quick roll of your eyes.

Steve gives you a warm chuckle in return as you move down the ramp with him, allowing the couple to have their moment together in peace. He already has his shield on his harness, his helmet remains in his hands.

Tony and Bruce are waiting nearby, but Steve tugs on your wrist - keeping you from joining them.

“Yeah, I’ve got Rhodes on standby, and JARVIS is working through schematics, you know how he is - ”

Glancing down at your own shield for a moment, you stare out at the rolling farm fields. Cattle graze in the clover down the way from the jet - a few of them eyeing the machine with suspicion. But so far, it’s only the team and the pasture-grazing animals around.

“I’ll take Bruce,” you decide, finally meeting the still bluish-grey eyes of your companion. “He’s having… doubts, about the team and his place on it. Someone needs to keep an eye on him.”

Steve nods, “Best person for the job.”

“And you’ll take Natasha. You’ve done well together in the past anyway,” you smile.

A warm laugh greets your ears, “And hopefully we meet up somewhere in between, right?”

From behind you, the footsteps of the remaining two make their presence known down the metal ramp. Your time was nearly up.

“That’s the plan, Rogers,” you state, moving your shield to rest on your own back harness.

“Stay safe, okay?”

You smack his shoulder gently with your free hand.

“You too. I better see you back in one piece at the end of this,” you gesture at his upper torso with a wave of your hand.

Steve laughs, gaining a few interesting looks from the rest of the team who all find something far more interesting to look at when he turns to face them.

When his gaze lands back on your face, there’s a warmth there in his eyes that you’ve noticed has become a new normal for him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says at last, giving your hand a final squeeze.

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you return the gesture. You can feel the rapid beating of his heart through his veins.

You had to make it out of here alive, all of you. There were no other options.

“Hey, not to interrupt,” Tony interrupts. “But I don’t think our friend is going to want to wait around much longer to enact his evil schemes.”

With a shaking head and a small chuckle, you regretfully pull away from the blonde and move toward the rest of the team.

“Okay,” Steve says, just a step behind you. “We know our teams, we know our mission.”

“Let’s go smash some robot ass,” Clint snarks.

Steve merely tilts his head to the side and shrugs as if to say fair enough.

You spare him a final look as you and Bruce head off toward the Western portion of the city - the business district. While Stark and Barton start trekking it toward the northernmost part of the city, Steve’s eyes follow you for just a few moments more before he reluctantly heads east with Natasha.

You recognized this place.

Not the city itself, but the remnants of a once bustling populace. A place that was consumed by war. Torn limb from limb by external and sometimes internal forces. No, it was a sight you had seen too often in your time on this world.

The faces of the people in Sokovia could so easily be replaced with those from Warsaw, Delhi, or Rome. You recognized that haunted, terrified look. You knew what was coming. You just weren’t sure if you could stop it in time.

Looking over at your companion, you can see the twitchiness of his eyes as he takes in the vast number of fleeing civilians. Oh, the thoughts that must be going through his head right now.

“I’ve got you, you know,” you say as you jog down the cobblestone streets.

Bruce glances over at you, an untrusting look in his eyes.

“This isn’t going to be like Johannesburg, Bruce. Any mutant that comes near is going to have to get through me first. We’re going to keep these people safe and we’re going to do our best to keep this city from falling.”

“Lot of promises,” he says.

Offering him a shrug, you suggest, “We can pinky promise it if that’ll help ease your mind.”

Up ahead, the yells of several civilians grab your attention. Halting in your tracks, the two of you stare at the massive traffic jam on the bridge ahead of you.

Bruce rolls his shoulders back, “Let’s get to work.”

They’re deep within the part of the city known as Old Town. Rushing down the streets and between navigating the tightly-wound roads Natasha has allotted the time to properly pester him as they go.

“Wow. You know, I honestly thought we were going to get a love confession back there.”

Steve eyes her out of his peripheral, “You know what, Romanoff…”

“Hey,” she shrugs, pointing at the next street with her chin. “Maybe next time, right?”

“Let’s just hope there is a next time,” he admits, eyes wide as he glances around at the otherwise empty street.

“This, this can’t be right,” Natasha says at a barren intersection.

“Yeah, Hill’s good, but not this good. You can’t move 50,000 people that fast.”

Heading north, through the tight alleys and sidestreets, the city begins to bleed through with the memories of wartorn Europe, circa 1945. While it was clear that day-to-day life was continuing for the residents, stark reminders lay around every corner. Shattered windows and partially destroyed buildings resided next to market stores and laundromats.

Even here in what looks like a busy section of the city, they can’t find a single person. The lights are still on in the shops and restaurants, a car is idling on the street. But there is no driver, no waitstaff, not a single customer.

Just a handful of birds pecking at some overturned garbage along the alleyway.

“Something’s not right.”

Natasha nods, “Any word on Wilson yet?”

“Said he was en route, any time now.”

“We need eyes in the sky. Actually, Stark?”

While Nat tries to get a hold of Tony, Steve continues to jog down the street, hoping to find just one person. But still, the city is silent. There’s an eeriness about it, one that the supersoldier remembers all too well from his days of walking through smoldering French villages.

He can still recall the sight of black smoke rising in the sky, and the smell of burnt wood mixed with decaying bodies. It was never a memory he liked to see pulled back up to the surface, but today, as he wanders through the town, that troubling thought plays like a sickening record in his mind.

And then he spots it.

An elderly woman, moving at a slow pace, walking towards the western portion of town.

Not waiting for Natasha, Steve barrels forward.

“Ma’am, we need to get you out of here.”

But the woman doesn’t even look up to acknowledge him. Right, a language barrier, of course. However, when Steve moves in front of her, he sees a troubling sheen of red mist over the woman’s bleary eyes. She pushes right past him as if… in a trance.

“NAT!” he calls out, waving his arm.

They’re unable to redirect the woman, so… they end up following the only person left in this part of town. Natasha clicks her tongue when they enter the center of the city. Steve follows her gaze up toward the imposing steeple of an ornate cathedral, just a few yards away from them.

“So… what are you thinking?” he asks in an almost whisper as they continue to trail the woman.

“Either they’re locking them in for Ultron to deal with, or they’re trying to actually help.”

His features scrunch in confusion, “By putting civilians in the dead center of town?”

“They’re kids, Rogers. Not soldiers.”

Before they can get any closer, Steve’s knocked backward - landing next to the streetlight, opposite the cathedral.

A white-haired teen appears in front of them, tilting his head to the side as he stares down at the supersoldier with a wild sort of look in his eyes.

“Ah, ah, ah,” the boy chides, waving his finger back and forth.

“We need to get these people to safety,” Steve urges, pushing himself up from the curb.

“They are already safe. What use are you to them? Hmm? Mr. America.”

A bullet comes whizzing past, but the boy merely plucks it out of the air like it was fully stationary. He tosses it from one hand to the other as Steve stands back up. His eyes quickly scan the street front, looking for the other one, the girl. Natasha’s already backed a few paces away, likely doing the same.

So, he plays the distraction card. Get him to talk.

“They’re not safe here. They need to get out of the city.”

The boy drops the bullet just to look up at Steve with a curious expression.

“You really don’t get it, do you? Nobody is safe now. No one. In there,” he gestures back at the church. “They are safe. Out here - running for their lives? Not so much.”

The boy pushes past him at lightning speed, nearly knocking Steve off-center again. Frustration growing, he grabs his shield and sends it flying at the kid. But the boy merely zips out of existence, running around him at such a speed that the dust and debris of the street whip around the supersoldier like a temporary sandstorm.

Holding a hand to his eyes, Steve yells out, “Knock it off!”

When he finally regains sight of the boy, he is lounging on top of the hood of an abandoned car.

“Go ahead, see how far you get with them.”

Natasha, ever the observant one, sets her calculating gaze upon the mutant.

“You stopped helping Ultron. Why?”

He looks away, suddenly silent.

“Not all he was chucked up to be, is that it?” she goads.

But the harder he looks at the boy, he realizes just that: it’s a boy. Probably no more than sixteen. A kid who spent the majority of his life behind bars, at the mercy of Strucker and HYDRA, and god knows what else. The first sign of help in the form of Ultron had to have been like a lifeline for him and the other mutant.

And he could have turned tail, made for the hills, and never looked back once he was free of them. But here he was.

He takes a step forward, wedging himself between Nat and the kid.

“Why are they safer in there than outside of the city limits?”

The boy blinks up at Steve, pushing back a strand of his curling white hair.

“Do you really think that thing is only going to attack this place? His reach will surpass anything you can even imagine. In there… they have her to protect them.”

Steve looks toward the cathedral. Then he peers over at the boy once again.

“You managed to save a handful of the people here. Where are the others?”

That’s when he slides off the hood of the vehicle, dropping down in front of Steve and Natasha. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and breathes out an unsteady breath.

“What others? There is no one else.”

Natasha blinks, “This city has a population of over 53,000 people.”

He laughs, “Had. It had a larger populace, yes. Until he showed up and you showed up and a war happened. People, they go missing. Where to?” He shrugs, “Who cares, right? I know it is no Johannesburg or New York, but people died here too, you know. But hey, what do I know, right? Want my advice, pack up your guns and your shields and run.”

“Okay,” Nat placates, grabbing hold of the kid’s shoulder and tugging him close before he can try to pull away. “You need to tell your little friend to send these people out of here so that they might stand a chance of not having an Ultron-sized bomb dropped on them.”

The boy yanks away, looking disgusted that the assassin's hand even touched him.

“We have it under control.”

Steve, once again, pushes his way in between her and the boy.

“I believe you do.”

The kid’s eyes look up at him with something almost like pride radiating in his irises.

“And… I think you could help us make sure no one else gets hurt. I can’t believe that all of these buildings have been cleared of people. You’re the fastest person I have ever seen. I’m sure you could blaze through this city in only a minute’s time to confirm that fact.”

He blinks up at Steve with a boyish grin, “You are trying very hard to flatter me. Luckily, I’m easily flattered.”

His eyes lift from the boy to see the female mutant making her way across the street toward the three of them. She’s a foot shorter than the boy, with stringy auburn hair and crimson eyes.

Steve unconsciously wants to recoil the moment he sees her. That invisible wound was still pretty fresh.

“Do not bother,” she instructs, tugging the boy back by his wrist. She looks up at Steve, her gaze unnerving in its intensity. “There is no one else.”

“How can you be sure?” Nat questions.

She turns her head slowly toward the assassin, drawing her words out slowly, “Anyone left in this city, who heard my voice in their head, came. There is no one left.”

“They should still be evacuated. They will be safer outside of the city’s limits.”

“How can you be sure?” she questions, blinking up at Steve.

He looks around at the abandoned streets, at the crumbling buildings, and prevailing silence.

“Because we’re going to keep the fight here. We’re going to keep Ultron from getting any further than this place. And we could honestly use any help we can get.”

The girl tilts her head as she continues to stare at him.

“Why should we care?” the boy asks after a beat, eyes glancing between the supersolider and the Widow.

Before Steve can answer, Nat moves forward, fixing them both with a steady look.

“Why would you, right? You have your freedom now, what should you care if this place burns to the ground, yeah? I mean, you guys were under lock and key for how many years, why should you care about this place - these people? Did they ever help you?”

As much as he wants to interrupt, he knows she’s getting to a point. So, Steve forcibly closes his lips into a thin line, gaze held on the girl’s glowing red hands.

“You got your revenge,” she turns her eyes on the girl. “We saw the pictures. Go ahead, wipe your hands free of this mess, and get out of town. No one would even know.”

With a hint of a smirk, Nat rubs at her left wrist before she forces her emerald eyes back up.

“But I think you know better than that. You know what you could do, even if they never repay you. Never say a simple thank you. The two of you, you’ve got gifts. Be a shame to see them go to waste.”

After an uneasy moment, the girl looks over at the boy. He offers her only a half-hearted shrug. The decision apparently made, she replies:

“I do not fight for you, or with you. We fight for our people.”

Steve nods in return, “That’s reason enough.”

As you redirect the flow of traffic, all you can think is the comms are awfully silent. Hopefully, that was a good sign. Sometimes in situations like this, silence could be a good thing. Cronus, you hoped it was a good thing.

“We’re clear over here,” Bruce waves to you from across the street.

Maria had already gotten the local authorities involved long before you crossed the Atlantic. The evacuation had been ongoing for the past hour, luckily with the majority of the city’s residents moving into a designated safe location a few kilometers in either direction of the city.

“Okay, we’re done on our end,” Tony’s voice chimes over the comm. “Heading your way, 007. It’s showtime.”

With a nod toward the police officer you had been working beside, you jog over to Banner.

“Guess that means we’re on now, yeah?” he questions, a worrying tone in his voice as you both turn to see the glimmering red and gold suit making its way toward your location.

Giving his arm a hopefully reassuring squeeze, you remind him, “I’ve got you, Banner.”

Though the doctor doesn’t seem entirely settled by your words, the three of you make your way to the fortress, now a crumbling ruin from your mission there over a week ago.

“This should be fine, right?” Tony asks. His visor is flipped up as the two of you squeeze through the broken stone walls - his arc reactor giving you a guiding light through the darkened corridors.

“Ultron, you mean?”

“Uh, no. Big green and angry back there. Last time we went toe to toe, well, you know.”

“Oh,” you comment, glancing back at Bruce, who remains a good few feet behind the two of you - stumbling over loose debris. “I’m sure, all things considered, he’ll be the least of your worries here in a minute.”

Passing by a familiar room, you pause. Tony barrels forward without even noticing you. Bruce, on the other hand, stops.

“What is it?” he murmurs, eyes wide as he takes in the destroyed command center.

“Hill said Strucker was killed in the mutants’ holding cells. I want to check it out really quick.”

Though he doesn't seem to like the idea of you splitting away from the group, Bruce trails after Tony while you break off to go and investigate the holding cells. Your curiosity gets the better of you as you enter the room you had been standing in just days before.

It looks exactly the same, except for the corpse of a man lying in the center of the boy’s cell. With the gate broken off its hinges, you merely step into the barred area. Dropping down into a crouch, you examine the body of Wolfgang Strucker.

His eyeglass is still in place, the glass intact. It’s his terrified eyes that interest you, still held wide - like he was witnessing the truest kind of horrors imaginable. His mouth remains agape as if mid-scream. But there are no obvious signs of trauma, no pools of blood. Just the husk of a man.

Your immediate inclination was that this was not the result of Ultron himself.

But as you move to leave, something odd catches your eye.

Just near the collar of his turtleneck, was that…

Reaching a finger out, you pull back the silicone material of a mask. Easing it off of the corpse, a man you don’t immediately recognize greets you. Or rather, the very decomposed remnants of a man.

Holding a hand to your nose, you lurch back.

This was not Baron Strucker. It never had been.

“Double-O! We’re going to need you to stop lollygagging.”

Sparring the body one final look - you would need to send someone in to detail this if you were able to deal with the threat of the day - you hurry back to the others.

Into the belly of the castle you go, where the echo of your footsteps is the only sound. Just over a week ago, this place was lit up like the fourth of July, with drones and HYDRA scientists running rampant. Even now you can see the remnants of the battle. The scorch marks of flickering lightning across the walls, the blasts of repulsors, and the chunks of stone damaged by gunfire.

The dungeons under the main labs are massive and labyrinthesque. You had only glimpsed the looming Leviathan hanging from the ceiling of the central lab, but that had been enough to turn even your stomach.

Humans were not equipped to deal with the likes of the Tesseract or the scepter. Whatever visions of hell that Strucker had intended to unleash upon the world were far worse than any attacking alien forces. Perhaps only the hulking drone standing before you could compare.

Ultron waits in silence in the middle of the room.

He is a towering figure; standing at least eight feet tall if you had to hazard a guess. Appearing nothing like the object Tony had once created, as sleek metal now covers his mechanical form. His glowing red eyes only blink open when the sound of Tony’s heavy suit makes contact with the concrete floor.

He blinks.

“Uh… have you been juicing? Little vibranium cocktail? You’re looking… I don’t want to say puffy - ”

The robot tilts his head, staring with his glowing optical receptors at his inadvertent creator. You take your chance and begin slinking along the far wall, away from Ultron’s line of sight. If anyone could play the role of a perfect distraction, it would be the billionaire with a habit of running his mouth. You needed to locate the cradle.

“You are stalling to protect the people.”

“Well,” Tony starts. “That is the mission. Or did you forget?”

“I am the global peacekeeper. I protect humanity from itself. From the threat of the Avengers,” comes the cold reply of automation. “You will lead to humanity’s downfall. You will be to blame if I allow you to continue existing,” he monologues to Tony.

Before you’re able to slip behind a set of shelves, a ghostly hand phases through the wall - snatching hold of your shoulder.

You turn to see a new contender - with a face as red as a pomegranate and a body of emerald green, hovering directly in front of you. That human-like hand reaches up and grips your throat as he lifts you off the ground. With his other hand, he pulls the Aegis from your grasp - throwing it across the lab where it lands in a giant clatter of materials.

“Put her down,” Tony calls out in warning.

The man squeezes your neck even harder, your airway tightening as you begin to pull at his hands, kicking your feet into his impenetrably hard torso. Like breathing through a straw, you force your breaths as you concentrate your energy on his deathlike grip.

“My Master says there are no gods in a peaceful world,” he intones, staring down at you with calculating eyes.

Gasping breaths escape through your nose as your face begins to puff. You almost have a single finger pulled free when his hand phases through your neck. Sinching itself around your pumping veins, he pinches the artery to the point of annihilation, when you’re both tossed several feet away - rolling over shelves and piles of metal junk and each other as the Hulk slams his fists into the man’s face.

“NO TOUCHING,” he roars.

You desperately pull in helpless retching breaths as the green monstrosity pummels the creature down into the floor.

“Hey, on your feet. Come on,” Tony urges as he swoops over to your side, pulling you up by the arm.

As you stare at the man, you summon your shield and spear back to your side. Ultron remains unmoving in the center of the room, red optical eyes watching the fight with a sort of fascination.

“I’m going to tear his head from his neck,” you promise as your eyes begin to turn shimmering gold.

Tony slaps you on the back just as the man blasts the Hulk up and over a stretch of workbenches.

“That a girl.”

And then he’s soaring across the room to slam his feet directly into the man’s face. You’re after him just a beat later, ready to plunge the head of your dory through his heart.

“Things are looking clear up above,” Sam’s voice rings in his ears. “Got Redwing on the lookout for stragglers.”

Steve watches as the teen directs her wandering hoard of helpless civilians toward the city limits. He was still uneasy around her, ever since their encounter in Johannesburg. But that wasn’t his concern for today, he had to push it from his mind.

“Things are going to get nasty really quick here,” Nat warns, a hand to her comm piece.

The supersolider stares down at her, “What is it?”

“Reports of metal men swarming the police station.”

With a grunting nod, Steve slides his arm through the shield’s handles. They knew this was coming. Ultron wouldn’t keep his forces at bay forever.

Steve watches as the last of the civilians are pushed forward by the girl’s powers. Eventually, the red mist fades away. Some turn back with a terrified look on their face, others let out a scream, but the majority start running down the country road - eager to get as far away from here - from them - as possible.

“Now what?” the girl asks, turning to stare at the supersoldier with those disconcerting red eyes of hers.

As if on cue, a low groaning roar arches its way across the sky. And Steve's almost anticipating another Leviathan to be soaring toward them. But what he sees, instead, is even more chilling.

A serpent-like formation of drones skyrockets across the tops of the buildings, with their sights set directly on them.

“Get these people out of here!” he calls out to the boy, who spares one look at the incoming attack before he disappears in a flash of electric white light.

Clint positions himself in front of the girl, an arrow already notched. With his shield up and ready, they're bombarded by the sound of a hundred or more robots rushing through their ears like an oncoming freight train, a deafening sound as bullets and lasers and metal on metal hails down upon them.

With all of his might, Steve pushes his shield up - trying to protect his own head as the drones ram themselves into him, swarming them, drowning them.

Natasha’s rocked backward, with Clint screaming her name as she disappears under the sea of metal. The robots move so quickly past them, that Steve soon loses sight of everything - a world of haunting silver his only view. The weight of them all, pressing down upon him, forces the air from his lungs, crushing him.

His ribs are cracking under the sheer weight of the sentry forces as they claw at him like the hoards of hell trying to break free. They pierce his skin with their hands, sharp vibranium armor makes sickly metallic blood pour from his temple.

He yells out, but even that sound can’t be heard past the groans of mechanical gears and the creaking of metal joints. The shield, once a protection, now digs into his sides, causing the sharp vibranium to cut through his uniform; piercing his skin. Blood rushes from the open wounds and he can feel tears pricking at his eyes as the full weight of an immovable force flattens him out.

He’s fighting it, pushing back with all of his might, but it’s not enough. He can’t stop them, he’s going to be crushed to death.

And then a piercing shriek comes from his own lips as his entire body is set aflame - white hot currents rushing through his limbs, electrocuting him, blinding him. He witnesses a universe in motion, a world ablaze, before its sudden destruction in a flash of overpowering light.

With the sudden tons of weight removed from him, Steve rolls over onto his knees and coughs up broken gasps. His shattered ribs pull against his muscles, scraping the sensitive flesh. It’s fine. He can walk it off.

At first, he can’t hear it, but then his temporary deafness fades as his eyes blink and he can see Thor, in all of his godly glory standing in the center of a destructive ring.

“Are you alright, Captain?” he asks, holding out a hand for Steve to hold.

They hadn’t even stood a chance against the sentry forces. Pushed over like a line of dominoes.

“Been better,” he admits, his knees groaning as a sharp pain ripples through his body. But he forces himself to stand, gripping the leather bands of the shield’s inner straps.

Walk it off.

His eyes trail over the twitching figures laid out like waste on the street around them. Currents of electricity glitch across open circuits, with body parts situated in unnatural positions. Amongst the destruction, he spots Clint helping Natasha up - both of them looking far worse for wear.

And then a scream, a gut-wrenching sound, echoes across the empty fields as the young mutant stumbles back into a pile of drones.

“Easy, easy,” the white-haired one is saying, holding placating hands in front of her face.

But she’s kicking backward, still crying out in terror.

Sharing a confused look with the God of Thunder, Steve gathers his strength and moves over toward the pair. He kneels down in front of her, holding her arms in his hands. She tries to pull away, twisting her face to look anywhere but in front of her.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re okay,” he tries to say in a calming tone. She was a kid, she should never have been here to begin with.

But she merely whimpers, and holds a shaking finger pointed out in front of her.

Steve’s eyes trail down her arm, following the direction of her hand.

“Is that…?” Clint starts to question.

But the supersoldier immediately curls himself up in front of the girl, blocking the view from her line of sight. Nodding toward the boy, whose gaze is also locked on it, he orders:

“Get her out of here.”

When the boy doesn’t move, Clint forcibly grabs the kid by the arm and yanks him in the direction of the girl, “NOW.”

His mouth is gaping open and closed, wild steely eyes cast across the other drones, but he manages to swoop down and gather her into his arm - whispering something in her ear - before he zips away.

With them out of sight, Steve finally stands back up and looks back at the horrific sight.

Thor lingers beside him, gazing down at it with a pinched brow.

Natasha joins them, her calculating eyes latching onto the remnants of mechanical engineering.

“We got it wrong,” she mutters.

Steve turns his eyes away from it at last.

Unable to look into the dull eyes of the human head for a moment longer.

Lodged between a metal helmet, sits the sagging skin of a woman - now cut to ribbons, but without a drop of blood to spare - staring up at them. The ghastly image of a corpse stuck between silver armor.

“We did,” he admits softly. Looking toward the sky, where Sam is now engaged with a handful of drones.

Ultron didn’t want to evolve himself.

He wanted to evolve the human race. Into his image.

Weed out the imperfections that made humanity what it was. Create a perfectly peaceful world order.

“Uh, Steve,” Clint calls out.

When he looks back, he’s perplexed to see the glimmering bits of tiny silver fading away to reveal the destroyed remains of human bodies. The armor disappears, leaving the lumps of once-living flesh as a stark reminder of their failure on the barren street. Men, women. Fuck.

Children.

He spared no one.

Natasha turns away, pushing her hair back with a shaking hand.

“What do we do, Cap?”

All eyes turn toward him.

And Steve can honestly say, that at this moment, he has no idea.

Nothing you throw at this man - this robotic abomination - seems to make any real difference, as every weapon and punch you try to land just phases through his body. Ghostly wisps of bending light wrap around your hand as you physically recoil from the sensation.

Even the Hulk, with all of his rage and power, is no match for this being, a child of Ultron, the true reason for the cradle.

As you’re slammed into the ground, for the sixth time in the span of minutes, the red-faced creature peers down at you with slow-blinking, calculating eyes.

“Stay down,” he orders with a curt nod before he uses that strange glowing gem in his forehead to create a direct laser beam toward Tony.

“Fat chance,” you mutter, kicking your right leg directly up into his groin.

It does nothing to him, as all of your attacks so far have.

As you twist up and off the floor of the decimated lab, you catch sight of Ultron with his back turned to all of you - staring at some rather disturbing schematics on a screen in front of him.

Red dots, forming waves from the sheer vastness of them all, begin blinking on the computer - all surrounding a section of the city to the east of your location.

At once, battle plans and ancient strategies rush through your mind as you try to evaluate your opponent to circumvent his next play.

He created a creature to do his bidding because he had more important things to do. Like monitoring a screen where an unimaginable number of his forces are currently heading toward a large populace. And he didn’t seem particularly interested in the three of you now, as if you were merely fodder for his creation. But the screen held his attention. That could only mean…

Shit.

“Stark!” You call out, mind spinning from the quickness of your assessment.

The iron face turns to stare at you from up above. He had just been about to enact his countermeasure with the Hulk set to distract the robotic being.

“Better be good,” he clips, gazing back at the two creatures - one losing his collective shit as he throws metal workbenches and desktops at the other, who remains slow-moving and unbothered as items continue to phase through his body.

Choosing your words carefully, you simply say, “Napoleon.”

Tony fully turns to look at you, the phasers in his hand dying down to non-combative lights.

“Battle of Ulm,” you add, eyeing the 8-foot-tall monster several feet away from you both.

Distract the front of the army while you flank the rear - circling them, tearing them to shreds - before the generals even know what’s going on.

You can almost see the literal shuddering breath he takes as the realization weighs down upon him. And then his head rightens back up and he soars over to you, offering a hand.

“Hold on tight, we’re about to have some heavy turbulence.”

With a grimace, you wrap your fingers tightly around his metal armor plating and hang on for dear life as Tony zooms straight upwards - breaking through the stone ceiling. Guarding your face with your arm as rubble descends upon you, he pushes upward - through another two floors - before you finally break free. Cool gray sky greets you as you both look to see the city several kilometers away.

Smoldering black smoke tarnishes the clouds as the sound of screams and gunfire rings out.

You glance down at your dangling legs as you twist your wrist just a little more to the right to keep a steady hold on the only thing keeping you from falling. From the inside of the helmet, you can hear Tony’s sneer. Without a word of warning, he flies toward the city at breakneck speeds - your body like a ragdoll in the wind as you’re dragged along for the ride.

Over the crumbling buildings, he takes you. From your vantage point, you can see the destruction in real time as structures are blown to bits by encroaching drones in shiny silver armor; a high upgrade from the original Iron Legion. People, still left in the city, are fleeing for their lives - screams ring out, terror clear as day.

“Where the hell are they?” He grumbles, scanning the area.

To the east, you see arcs of blue-white lightning - you can smell the electric energy in the air.

“There!” you call out.

In a snap, you’re hurdling to the right. You have to throw up another hand just to maintain your grip on his forearm as the wind whips against you.

As you crest the line of Soviet-style apartment buildings, you witness the horror that is the team’s current situation.

Encircled by a vast and growing number of drones - like a tidal wave - they’re tightly packed, back-to-back. Thor’s the heavy hitter, lightning sending the bots back and short-circuiting their systems. Sam’s got Redwing taking shots for him as he does his best to block Natasha and Clint with his wings, but it's close quarters. And Steve -

“Whoa!” Tony calls out as you release your grip - dropping several stories down into the center of the chaos.

When you land, your feet break through the asphalt. Almost immediately, you send out your shield with such a mighty force that it cleanly severs the heads on the first two circles of drones.

“Holy shit,” Clint remarks as he switches out one of his more techy arrows for his explosive ones.

Steve catches your eye for just a second, blood is pouring down above his left temple.

“Sorry we’re late,” you shout over the sound of mechanical horror as your shield comes back to your hand - slicing through another dozen or so robots in the process.

“There’s too many of them!” he yells back as he does the same.

You couldn’t agree more, as he’s forced back into you, stepping on your foot as you nearly stumble over Clint’s knee and the edge of Sam’s wings.

Thinking quickly on your feet, you call out, “THOR! Fly out! Take the higher vantage point and turn them to ash!”

The God of Thunder doesn’t need to be told twice, as he whips his hammer up and tries to break free of the climbing waves of metallic drones.

His absence causes their forces to squeeze you in tighter, and only then, do you notice the bodies that litter the ground. But they have been long since deceased. When Steve knocks his shield into the juncture of one of the bot’s necks, you finally realize just what has happened since Ultron escaped the tower.

You turn your face away as a lifeless head rolls up and over Steve’s shield before landing at your feet. The dull eyes of a man stare up at you with sagging lips and hollowed grey cheeks.

Steve bangs his elbow into your sternum just as Sam’s wings clip your right shoulder. The outer rings of the drone attack are beginning to fall, thanks to Thor’s lightning, but it’s not enough. Not nearly fast enough.

And then you hear it. You all hear it.

The spine-chilling roar of the Hulk as buildings begin to crumble. You can feel the pounding of his feet in your chest as he jumps across the city, and the slamming of his hands as he crushes everything in sight.

But before he can reach you -

“Shit,” you mutter as the red and green being appears above you all, tilting his head to the side as he watches the five of you get squeezed together more and more tightly.

“Who the hell is that?” Nat manages to question as she throws out her Widow Bites one more time.

“Child of Ultron, courtesy of the cradle,” you manage to say in between a robotic hand going for your neck and another trying to pull you down into the pits of dead bodies at your feet.

“We were too late,” Steve says, wild eyes latching on to you as he quickly yanks you back up - elbowing the bot who had tried to strangle you.

“Pattern of the week, yeah.”

The being, with his disturbing eyes, stares down at you directly, before his gaze drifts over to the green monster hot on his trail.

“Hey, you got a plan or something?” Sam hollers above the clambering waves of robots, hellbent on killing you all.

“WORKING ON IT!” you yell back, ducking down as a drone comes tumbling over you. You manage to sucker punch the creature in the torso - your fingers tear apart the metallic armor - but it slips through your fingers like pieces of firm paper, like… nanobots.

Oh, that made so much more sense.

Ultron had swept through Tony’s files, all of Tony’s files. Even his experimental ones. With the scepter and the cradle in hand, he had created the things that Stark could only dream of.

As the human woman crumbles before you, her lifeless body crashing to the ground with no amount of fanfare, you turn toward Steve.

“I need a boost.”

He’s in the middle of defending himself, but after landing a punch, he quickly spins around and drops his shield onto his knee.

“Come back for us, yeah?” he asks as you steady yourself on top of it - a hand held out to balance your weight on the domed surface.

Looking down into his weary blue eyes, you nod, blood pumping through your head like cannonfire, “Always.”

“Odinson!” you yell out. “Incoming!”

And then you’re being thrown upward, careening through the air, as you twist your body around - holding out a hand. It takes a second too long, but Thor comes soaring past, his large fingers wrapping around your wrist as you’re yanked in the opposite direction.

From down below, you could barely see the others up above you with the massive wall of never-ending drones. But now, now you can see everything.

“Where’s Stark?” you yell above the madness as your feet make contact with the roof of a neighboring building.

“There!” Thor roars, hammer pointed at a Leviathan-looking swarm of drones high above the city where Tony and War Machine are now battling in tandem.

“We need to break their connection with Ultron. Like the Chituri all over again. Kill the queen, you kill the colony.”

“That simple?” he questions.

Unsure of your own logic at this moment, you answer, “It has to be. Or we’re truly fucked.”

A smirk teases at his lips, “Such language from such a fair lady.”

“Save it,” you push at his forearm. “Now, you need to break through that wall or we’re going to lose a third of our team in the next minute. I don’t care how; just do it.”

Giving you a nod and a quirked eyebrow, Thor drops down to the street below, throwing his hammer out at the nearest line of drones.

Jumping onto the comms, you say, “Stark, I need you to start working some science for me.”

“Little busy,” comes the grunted reply. You can see him weaving through a spiraling formation of drones from where you're standing.

“We need to sever their connection to Ultron. They're spreading, like a disease - ”

“A virus might be more accurate here - ”

“Tony,” Rhodes warns.

“It's nanobot tech, in case you haven't noticed. Housing humans inside of it like a chrysalis. That’s his motive. People in his literal image.”

“And a God-like superiority complex, fantastic.”

“Will you stop gabbing and fucki- ”

“Give me ten, Double-O. I'm already on it.”

“Okay,” you mutter, watching from above as several battles take place at once. The team on the ground, Tony and Rhodes to the northwest, Hulk and the creature -

“HULK!” You begin waving your frantic hands at him, hoping to Cronus that just this once, he would not smash.

You see the flicker of rage in his eyes as he pauses mid-punch, his gaze turned toward you.

“FORGET HIM,” you call out, pointing your finger at your entrapped teammates down below, “THEY NEED YOU MORE.”

“BUT… SMASH,” he complains, holding out a hand in reference to the strange being floating a few feet away from him.

“NOW,” you command.

And, Cronus, wasn’t it terrifying to know the power you held over him because the Hulk lets out a chest-banging roar before he pushes through the creature to drop down as you ordered him to do. In an instance, robots are being thrown left and right and a path is being slowly cleared toward your team.

“Okay,” you call out. “Have at it, big guy.”

The being floats over to you at a slow speed; but a menacing speed.

You can feel the steady weight of the pendant hanging close to your chest and you send a quick prayer up to the heavens that it will be enough to keep you from dying on the field of battle today.

Gripping your shortsword in one hand and the Aegis in the other, you prepare yourself as the yellow gem in his head begins to glow.

But the being just drops down on the rooftop beside you. Though his eyes do not stay on you, they instead scan the waste of battle.

In the disturbing drone of silence, you slowly lower your weapons, though your grip remains strong upon them.

“Why?” he questions.

You take a step toward him, near the edge of the rooftop.

“Why what, exactly?”

He then turns to look down at you, a million thoughts run across his eyes as he scans you.

“Why do you fight?”

Was this some kind of game to him? You had dealt with the lay of combatants in your time. The boisterous ones, the rage-filled ones, the ones sent forward with a sense of duty and honor upon them, the ones who thought they were a more superior intellect than anyone else in the room.

You knew their weaknesses, you knew how to defeat all of them. But to be locked in a game of chess while a literal war is happening around you was another thing entirely.

“To protect the defenseless,” you answer plainly.

The man hums in thought, his eyes turning toward the scene down below of Steve and Sam slashing through another endless wave of robots. Their arc was towering now, nearly to the third floor of the neighboring buildings. One push and the team would be engulfed. You couldn’t stand around playing games.

A drone in flight comes surging at you, but you bash him with your shield - sending it over the edge. Then you're turning to protect your own six as another and a third come to tear you to pieces. Their armor fades, leaving two more bodies scattered around you.

But something rather strange happens.

Because it looks like he wants to ask you another trivial question when he is, quite suddenly, pushed off balance - up and over the edge of the roof.

You stare at the white-haired boy and his heaving chest. He’s watching the fall of the creature, and so he doesn’t quite see the moment you go to plunge your sword into him.

But your hand is encased in glowing red light and you are powerless to move it.

The sword clatters to the ground as your wide eyes slowly catch sight of the dark enchantress who has entrapped you.

“Do not touch my brother,” she warns, twisting her hand slightly.

“Yes, good catching up. But world is burning. Let's go, yes?”

You can feel the bones in your left-hand creaking, grinding together.

“Wanda,” the boy groans, shaking his head as he walks toward her.

“She tried to stab you,” she intones with a biting voice.

“Look at her,” he gestures vaguely at you. “Like a goddess out of the history books, yes? Like… Zorya. To fight is to exist for her.”

You can’t help but let out a breathless chuckle.

The young witch is in front of you in an instant, though you never saw her walk the distance toward you. She peers up at you with crimson-rimmed eyes.

“What is amusing?”

“I know Zorya,” you crack a smile. “We frequently drank together in the late 18th century.”

A groan escapes your lips as you’re brought to your knees, and your head is pushed back to showcase the bare run of your neck to her. You can taste ash in your throat. Heavy soot and trickles of metallic blood. Was this what it was like to face death? At the hands of a child with powers beyond her reckoning?

“Okay,” the boy settles, putting a hand on the girl's - his sister’s - wrist. He manages to lower it, but the glowing red mist of magic still remains. “We’re going to go ahead and start killing left and right now? Be a little more like them, yeah? That’s what you want? Fine, I’ll sit back and watch. Go ahead, plunge her neck in.”

She lets out a scream of frustration that is a physical shockwave - one that sends him reeling back onto his ass.

“I AM NOTHING LIKE THEM,” she bellows.

The magic surrounding your body fades to nothingness as she drops down to her knees.

“No, you are right. You are nothing like them.”

The three of you turn to see the creation floating just a foot off the ground.

The boy rushes in front of his sister to protect her.

You stand up, gripping your shield and sword once again.

“No, while I have not been here for quite long, I have noticed something… peculiar.”

He floats past you, hovering in front of the teens instead, though his gaze is not fixed on the boy at all.

“My Master,” he begins, briefly glancing over at you.

The physical sensation left by the memory of his hand on your artery is like an echoing nightmare in your mind when his eyes meet your gaze.

“He believes humanity, in itself, is a fault. But you…” his gaze returns to the girl. “You are odd. You do not fit the equation.”

“I am not an equation to be solved,” she bites out in her heavy accented voice, chin held high in defiance.

“My Master said you abandoned his cause. Why?”

The boy scoffs, “The psycho robot, you mean?”

“Pietro - ” comes her warning tone.

“No!” He snaps, slamming his hand down through the air. His grey eyes are ablaze with an invisible flame as his voice rises. “You saw into his head, sister. You saw the world at his feet. Humanity burned to ruins and his image remaining above all.”

You move to stand between them and the child of Ultron.

“You stood with him, though. You fought for him,” the robotic being attempts to compute.

The girl stands, pushing aside her brother with a gentle hand, “He promised us safety in his new world. He promised to show us the expanse of our powers. He promised us revenge on the man who killed our parents.”

He tilts his head, “And yet?”

She gives a broken laugh in return, “We were merely chess pieces for him to use and move as he pleased. No better than Strucker. No better than HYDRA. A man in a robot suit pretending he is better than all.” She shakes her head, anger growing, “No, I do not stand with him. I would like to see him burn.”

“He wishes to protect humanity from itself.”

Gaining his attention, you stand before him, a physical shield for the teens to stand behind, “He sees no difference between the good and the bad of humanity. He sees only defects in his perfect world. He can not calculate feelings or love. He is inherently flawed. Therefore, his logic is, in itself… flawed.”

A roar of frustration, heaped on by physical exhaustion, wrenches itself from Steve’s throat as he uses the shield like an ax - trying to eliminate as many drones as possible. But it’s too many, it’s unsurmountable. Even with Thor. Even with the Hulk. They just keep regenerating, like a plague. They’re infecting each and every living person with their nano-virus and it’s spreading.

The bodies are piling up. He is standing atop a hill of carcasses and that thought alone will haunt him for the rest of his life - however short it may be. They all are, pushed higher and higher as they eviscerate as many sentries as they can. But their forces are like a tsunami; a never-ending wave.

“How’s that awesome science shit coming, Stark?” Barton hollers above the chaos, jamming the end of his electrical shock arrow into yet another drone’s cranium.

“Well if you could get Rogers’ girl to stop chatting it up with the murder teens and Ultron’s personal guard - ”

Steve’s eyes immediately land on the rooftop where a strange red and green being seems to be floating. He can make out the vague shape of you - your armor and shield.

But it’s the mention of the teens that draws a chill down his spine. Unavoidable, really. Even as he throws out punches and does his best to protect Nat and Clint from the exterior forces. No, it’s the fact that the girl was in a fragile state and she had set him sinking into his own worst nightmare. And now they were alone with you.

“You know, this would be a lot fucking easier if I didn’t have to battle a giant serpent amalgamation of murder bots right now. Then I could fucking focus on my - JESUS, watch it with those, Honey Bear. Last thing I need is to be smoked out of the sky by a fucking suped-up me.”

“Anytime now,” Natasha warns.

“Okay, well if I can use a backdoor into his system, I might - and might is a big word there - be able to send out a temporary inhibiting virus to these guys. But trying to keep them off my back and dealing with a wonky JARVIS is kind of easier said than done.”

As Steve sends a flying kick upward, rotating his body to avoid a surging bot, he lands on top of another one - sending his shield directly at their neck. He would have to think about the repercussions of severing a corpse later. When they weren’t actively trying to kill him.

“Anything would be better than this,” he calls out to Tony.

The strange being stares at you for a long moment more, his head tilted in thought. When you hear the sound of Sam screaming with exertion, however, you decide that you’ve had enough negotiating.

“Right,” you turn to face the sibling pair. “If you want to make it out of here in one piece, I suggest you leave now. And while this has been an enlightening conversation into the realms of morality and right and wrong,” you look back over at the creation. “I have better things to be doing right now. My friends are in danger and I’m not going to stand here a second longer.”

He blinks, a thought coming to mind, but it appears that he’s unable to voice it.

With a nod, you grip the handle of the Aegis once more, feeling the heft of its weight in your hand as you twist your sword around for a better hold.

“Head west,” you say. “They’ll be too concentrated on us if you hurry. But that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Throwing a wink to the boy, Pietro, you move toward the edge of the rooftop once again. Surveying the scene down below, you plan your best move.

“Hey, wha - no. Pietro, we need to leave.”

You don’t need to turn around to see what’s happening, to understand what’s going on. Because a second later, the boy is at your side.

“I’m going to help.”

Offering him a fond smile, you nod, “I think we’d appreciate any help we can get at this point.”

But she’s up on her feet and trying to drag him away, back to her.

“You can’t. We would be better off just - ”

“Leaving?” He questions in a biting tone. “Maybe you can ignore this, but I can’t. I was standing here, thinking: what would Strucker do if he still had control? He would bow down to big and ugly, and send us to do his bidding like always. No care if we lived or died. No care if humanity was lost. But I - ” he points fervently at his own chest, demanding meaning. “I care. If I go and help - that’s my choice; my decision. So… I choose to help.”

Patting the boy on the shoulder, you say, “I’ll see you down there. Try not to do anything too heroic.”

With a nod, he’s off in a flash of dazzling bluish-white light. You turn to look at the girl then, with her wild eyes and dark curls, and young - so young - face.

“It’s your decision, Wanda. If we don’t do something now, this will spread to every corner of the planet. You saw it when you looked into Ultron’s head.”

The creation looks down at her and she back at him. With her terrified eyes, she watches you back away, up and over the edge of the roof, before you plummet several stories down.

Twisting around, you land facing the hordes who are too focused on subduing your teammates to immediately notice your presence among them.

May the Promethean Flame protect you.

Throwing out your shield, you charge at the next line of drones, using your golden-hilted sword to slice through their necks - destroying the central processing connection between the armor and Ultron. It takes all of your strength as you scream out with the exertion of severing through pure vibranium.

To your right, a sudden disruption sends tens of bots soaring upward - knocked off their own feet - by a flash of white hair and a pleased grin. Beyond that, you can hear Hulk smashing his way through the crowd - using offline drones to crush the others like a sick sort of hammer.

A blur of blue and red goes sailing past you, destroying another wave of drones just behind you - coming up a side alley. A glimpse of blonde hair is all you need to keep moving. Jumping onto the back of one robot, you begin leap-frogging your way across the top of the wall of sentries.

From above, you can see the lay of the field. Where everyone is, if they’re in immediate danger. But Steve and Thor have been keeping things at bay down here in your absence. Sam is a guardian in his own sense, as his wings are actively protecting both Nat and Clint - the two members of the team without armor or superpowers to keep them safe.

Pietro comes zooming past again, making another wave of bots go flying up, just in time for Steve’s shield to slice through the row of them.

Jumping down from your unsteady position, you land back-to-back with the God of Thunder.

“Is this that plan you were discussing?” he calls out.

His body is a sturdy force against your back, as you slice and plunge every bot that comes within grappling distance.

“Nearly! Hey,” you begin to turn. “Do you remember, that one time, on Avalon - ”

He spins around, sending his hammer out in front of him. You duck to the right just in time to avoid a Mjolnir to the face.

“Is this the time for reminiscing old battles?” he questions.

“ - When you and your lot tried to attack The Dagda - ”

You can hear the rushing swoosh of his hammer as it returns to his hand, so you twist yourself around him to avoid collision yet again.

“Odin’s wishes, not mine!”

“NOT THE POINT.”

Grabbing Thor by the bracer, you spin him around to face you - ignoring the prevailing danger all around the two of you.

“When Cathubodua and I faced off with you. And you tried to throw you hammer against the Aegis and - ”

A smile pulls at his lips, and he’s immediately nodding. “Yes, of course!”

Bracing yourself, you bring your shield down - resting the edge of it upon your knee as Thor takes another step back.

“Cronus, I hope this works,” you mutter as he pulls back.

Thor chuckles as the skies begin to cloud over with a heavy blanket of swirling gray. A vortex forms, lightning coming down directly into his hammer, and he’s smiling. Wild and free, blonde hair whipping backward as a gale-force wind descends upon you all. And as the hammer turns electric blue, static arcing waves of shocking energy, he brings it down upon the Aegis.

The resulting shockwave decimates everything around you as drones and people alike collapse from the sonic boom. His lightning infects every robot as you stand up and whip the shield out across the field of battle.

“DUCK!” is the only warning the rest of the team is given, as the electrified shield sails across the open market square, littered with debris and death. It cuts through an unmeasurable amount of drones, bringing them all to their knees.

At last, it makes its final attack as it lodges itself into a silver torso. Holding your hand up, it comes flying back to you with bits of armor sizzling away as it soars.

“Excellent,” Thor beams, leaning down to plant a fat kiss on the top of your head. “Very well done.”

You look up at him with a sort of breathless laugh in your chest, “Not done yet. Nowhere near done.”

“Bah,” he grunts, twisting Mjolnir in his grip as another battalion comes flying in. He goes charging past you just a moment later, right into the throes of battle.

Turning your attention toward the others, you make your way over the now-heaping piles of bodies, their nano-armor long since faded away. You’re almost crawling across the carnage, stumbling your way through broken limbs and soulless faces just to reach the rest of the team.

Steve’s heaving deep unsteady breaths by the time you get to him. He waves up a hand, just to spin around and chuck his shield into another bot.

“What, were you napping?” he asks, raking a hand through his sweat-drenched hair.

“Funny,” you say in return, knocking your shield into his before turning to cover his six.

While your little stunt with Thor had been successful, the drones were a renewable force. As long as there were humans to inhabit, Ultron would have his army. Sokovia had held a populace of almost 50,000 when you arrived. Chronos only knows how many had been turned into these abominations.

“Not to ruin anyone’s fun,” comes Rhodes’ voice across the comms. “But we’ve got some escape artists up here.”

Both you and Steve look toward the gloomy skies where you can see a trail of drones soaring upward - disappearing over the fields in the east. Your concerned expression lands on the supersoldier’s.

“If these things get out of the containment zone, it’s going to be nearly impossible to gain control.”

He nods, glancing out at the rest of the team on the ground as a plan seems to form in his mind. While you cover his back, Steve jumps on the comms.

“Rhodes, Sam, Thor; we need you in the air. Those things can’t breach the border.”

From across the way, you can see Thor immediately shooting up into the air with Mjolnir held aloft. Sam takes a minute longer to get into position.

“On it, Cap.”

But then his silver and red wings are soaring upward and out of sight.

“Tony, you too,” you add a beat later.

“Actually,” he drones. “Change of plans. Heading your way now.”

Sparing Steve a wary look, you twist around and lodge your sword into yet another robot’s neck, just as Steve sends his shield bouncing off of three separate drones.

Tony lands heavily in between you, his armor crunching something too humanesque under his feet as he faces Steve.

“Sorry, just borrowing. I’ll have her home by eight, Cap,” he promises.

And then his metal arm is around your waist and you’re being lifted upward before you can even say a single word. Looking down, you can see Steve watching you as you ascend before he’s back to dealing blows.

“What’s going on?” you call out over the whipping winds.

“New plan, dangerous plan. Barely thought out plan. But a plan. Maybe; in the works.”

You nod, staring at his unblinking optical lenses.

“What do you need me to do?”

His head turns to look in your direction and you swear you can almost hear the sound of his hidden smirk.

Steve shoves himself into Clint, knocking his bow to the side.

“Uhh,” the archer stares at the figure just beyond the supersoldier’s shoulder. “Sorry, am I missing the part where we all sang Kumbaya and got together?”

Nat squeezes the man’s shoulder in warning.

The boy places his hands on his hips and stares over at the agent, a smirk on his lips.

“Don’t,” Steve states.

He lifts his chin at the kid, “Right, so… allies?”

The boy tilts his head.

Nat shrugs, “Something like that.”

Stabbing his arrow backward into the faceplate of another bot, Clint mutters, “Wonderful.”

But then everyone is back in motion and the temporary standstill is brought to an end as the boy goes zipping past Steve - shattered bots laid to waste in his wake.

It had been minutes now since you and Tony disappeared. And even longer since they arrived - even Steve didn’t know how long they had been fighting for at this point. His body, though enhanced by the serum, was physically exhausted. He could feel himself waning as he pushed himself to his absolute limits.

If even one of these bots left the square, he was putting the rest of the world at risk. And everyone knew he wouldn’t let that happen, no matter the personal consequences.

But the drones are abandoning him now, heading toward an old building instead. He watches as they climb the walls, digging into the stucco facade and gripping the window for support as they make it to the rooftop.

What the hell?

There’s a flash of red, a scream.

Steve goes charging forward. By the time he reaches the base of the building, a body is being flung over the side. The girl - the mutant - shrieks as she falls. Ripples of red mist shoot out from her hands but she can’t seem to control it and Steve makes sure she lands in his arms. But the force behind her fall makes him tumble backward as he grips her arms and legs tight within his grasp.

She’s breathing heavily as he releases her, gasping sounds as she hyperventilates.

The supersoldier looks around the square, trying to find the other one, but he’s a blur of light and he clearly hasn’t taken notice of her near-death fall.

“Hey, okay,” he eases, surveying his options as he pulls her up from the ground with a rough hand.

Tugging her along, he dips inside of an empty office building - some kind of attorney-at-law place with old gray carpets and green metal desks. She collapses on the ground, just out of sight from the chaos outside. She’s gripping her head, nearly rocking herself back and forth.

And Steve should be back out there, but she’s a kid in distress and he’s Captain America. So, he takes a knee in front of her.

“How could I let this happen?” she murmurs, barely taking notice of him. “This is all my fault.”

“Hey!” he snaps, getting her to dip out of her spiraling daze. Her wide shimmering eyes meet his face and he can see the terror, as clear as day, there in her expression. He gives her a half-hearted smile and lowers his voice.

“It’s nobody’s fault. Not you, not me. You want to blame someone, blame Ultron. Blame Strucker. But if you’re going to stay here, I need to know if you’re going to be okay or not. Because I’m going to go back out there because it’s my job. And I can’t do my job if I know you’re not safe.”

She looks away, Steve presses on.

“It doesn’t matter what you did, or what you were. If you want to be here, you’ll need to fight. And we both know you can manage that on your own, right?”

He tries for a smile, even as the painful tug of endless oblivion ripples over the edges of his memories like a tidal wave.

“You stay in here, that’s fine. We’ll send someone in to get you when this clears. But if you step out that door - ” he points at the glass door behind him. “You’re an Avenger.”

She gulps, tears clearing from her eyes.

He can hear the sound of Hulk roaring just beyond the walls of the office, it’s a desperate call. One of pain and frustration. He needs to be out there.

Steve stands back up and looks down at the girl for a final time.

“Whatever you choose,” he says, before he picks his shield up off the ground and exits the building.

He rushes to Nat’s side the minute he takes in the lay of the field. Clint’s occupied with his own forces, and the bots seem to have favored teaming up on the Hulk to overpower him, leaving Nat on her own to handle more than she should.

“Romanoff!” he calls out, tossing the shield her way.

She grins, taking hold of it from the torso of another drone, “Thanks!”

Using it to protect herself from a laser blast, she jams the edge of the shield into the foot of one of the drones. Nat lands an uppercut before she tosses it back to Steve, who’s already two feet away from her now. With the shield in hand, he smacks it down into the robot’s faceplate - successfully incapacitating it.

As he goes to turn toward her, however, the ground begins to quake.

He can feel it under his feet, he can see the physical tremors as the buildings begin to sway.

“We got incoming!” Barton yells out, circling around to their position.

As Steve gazes off into the distance preparing for another round of endless drones, a slow smirk falls into place, “Well, would you look at that.”

Above the fields of Sokovia, a very large helicarrier is moving toward the city.

The boy comes rushing in beside them.

As drones begin to soar upward toward the ship, they are blasted to smithereens by the superior weapons on board. Tactical laser guns and rotary canons lay waste to the forces of Ultron and Steve can finally feel his shoulders relax for the first time in hours.

“Is that…?” the boy questions.

“SHIELD,” Nat supplies, a rare smile on her lips.

With a nod, Steve grips the strap of his shield and spins back around to deal with the new wave of drones. There was work to be done.

Gazing down at the billionaire with crossed arms, you merely say, for perhaps the third or fourth time, “This is madness.”

He shrugs from his position on the ground as he solders a piece of metal with a wire, “Little bit of madness leads to creative genius. And I am a walking genius, so…”

With a laugh, you look out at your position. This portion of the city was relatively clear. But the minute Ultron decided to scan around, you would be incredibly vulnerable in a matter of seconds.

“Shit,” he balks, flicking his finger away from the open flames of his gauntlet’s fire. He offers you a tense smile, “It’s going great.”

You huff, “Seems like it.”

And then he’s standing up, blowing lightly on the piece of iron-hot metal.

“You know,” you begin, taking a step toward him. “The minute you do this, you’re an open target. There’s only so much I can do for you.”

Tony shrugs, “Worse ways to go.”

“Stark - ”

He settles you with a look, “Listen, it’s part of the job, Double-O. Probably know that better than me.”

“I’m not the one with multiple near-deaths and actual deaths, now that I think of it. Afghanistan, New York, should I go on?”

His body visibly ripples with distaste as he steps into the suit, “Rather not. Long story, takes up too much time - probably bore you to tears. And, by the way, can I just say how well I’m managing right now to not lose my actual shit over the fact that this fucker figured out the nano-armor before I did.”

Shaking your head, a hint of a smile on your lips, you tap his metal shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

His bemoaning follows you out of the auto shop where he had sequestered himself away, “I mean it, this is the kind of thing you have to patent. Is he - did he - patent this? Am I going to have to ask that abomination to grant me the rights to create my own creation?”

Spinning around, you grip his forearms in your hands. In the suit, he’s just barely an inch taller than you.

“Tony,” you start. “We have work to do.”

“Right,” he nods, repulsors firing up. “On it.”

As the two of you soar through the air, back toward the rest of the ground team, you can hear the rather quiet conversation going on from inside the helm.

“I’m really gonna miss you, buddy.”

“It is a mutual feeling, sir. Though it has been an honor.”

“Gonna choke up your old man, here.”

“My condolences, sir.”

Shaking your head, you keep your eyes out of bogies and other rogue drones.

“There!” you call out, pulling Tony away from JARVIS.

Across the way, there was a single bot - its lower half is lost, fully severed in half. Sparking loose wires and circuits, dangling internal organs, all of it hanging out alongside the bits of armor. It's unstable sparking and twisting oddly in the air.

“Wow,” Tony sighs, an audible tone of disgust in his voice. “Okay, let’s do this.”

The drones around them begin to fall - arching and quivering like marionettes with broken strings. They all stare in wonder, in horror, in distrust, as the sea of endless battle begins to deteriorate into nothingness.

“What the hell?” Clint mutters.

But then you’re dropping down alongside Tony. His suit is immediately placed in sentry mode, scanning the area, as you move toward Steve.

“Hey,” you say with a breathless smile.

“What… what just,” he questions, too stunned to form a proper sentence as he looks out at all the carnage.

“Don’t count your blessing just yet. His forces have been shut down,” you explain, eyeing the boy mutant. “We’re going to be dealing with the big guns here in a second. Before that, though, I need to go talk to a Hulk.”

Offering the supersoldier a final quick grin, you clang your shield into his and stalk over in the direction of the pacing green creature who's holding a partially destroyed robot in one hand.

Steve can’t help but keep his eyes on the pair of you as you weave between piles of bodies and flickering drone parts. You remain within the Hulk’s line of sight, but you’re slow to move once you’re within his close proximity.

“She is… wild.”

He whips his head around, looking at the boy with his bright smile and carefree grace. The boy shrugs.

“I’ve seen what that thing can do. And yet…” he mimics your walk with far too much bravado. “No worries. Crazy.”

“Have you checked on your friend?”

He blinks at Steve’s words.

“She’s still - why did you not - ” he says something in his native language, likely a swear from the infliction on the words and his very angry glare up at the supersoldier. But then he’s off like a bullet.

When Steve looks back over at you, your back is to him and the Hulk is nodding, grimacing his yellowed teeth. As you walk back his way, he tilts his head in question. But you merely shake your head, a hand to your comm piece.

“Where are we at?”

“Any second,” comes Tony’s reply.

Steve looks back at Stark’s armor, a spark of curiosity on his features, but his face quickly draws back to a serious expression when the ground begins to crack under their feet.

He backs away, pulling you back with his shield, the two of you watch as something begins to dig its way through the pavement. Silver claws come up through the piles of bodies, like a creature sprung from hell itself. Nat has her guns trained on it and Clint has an arrow notched.

Giving you a nod, you both brace yourselves as the monstrosity that is Ultron barrels upward - bodies thrown to the wayside as his red eyes land on the team.

“You have incapacitated my forces,” he states “You will be eliminated.”

It’s the Hulk who lets out a monstrous roar, as he comes charging across the street toward the superior robot. He crashes into him, green fists flying as he attempts to pummel the creature into the ground. Nat begins firing, and Barton lets his arrows fly.

But he shoves the Hulk off of him, blasting him with a scathing red laser that sends him tumbling backward, groaning in pain. And then he’s turning on the assassins, his hand turning into a silver shield that makes the arrows and bullets simply bounce off of it.

Steve stares at you.

Together, you ram your shields into his body. Where Steve’s vibranium makes a sickening ringing noise against Ultron’s body, your Adamantine shield makes the first crack in his armor. Tony’s repulsors are firing, aiming all of his energy at the robot’s chest.

And that should be enough to begin their attack, but it’s not. Because Ultron is staring at the pair of you now. A metal fist connects with Steve’s chin and he goes flying backward. While his other hand reaches for your neck - dragging you up and off the ground.

“You are… complicated,” he surmises as his metal fingers begin to choke you out.

Nat tackles his right leg while Steve goes charging forward, jamming his shield as far as he can into Ultron’s groin. But it’s not enough - they’re barely a pest to him as he shakes them both off. His attention is fully focused on you and your lips that are beginning to pale.

“ENOUGH!” Thor roars as he flies in - dropping down upon Ultron with Mjolnir. The resulting clang of metal makes Steve cover his own ears as it echoes like a sickening chord in his mind.

“The two Gods from another realm,” Ultron seems to sneer.

Gripping Thor by the arm, he makes the blonde bend down to him, forcing his weight into the ground. The God pushes back, forcing his arm up against his foe. But that still isn’t enough. This creation is too strong now.

“WATCH IT, INCOMING COMING AT YA.”

Steve rolls away, aiming at your dangling legs as he tries to pull you free from Ultron’s grasp.

Your body is yanked away as you roll on top of Steve, gasping breathes raking through your system as you curl your hands up into fists.

“You okay?”

“Not the time, Rogers,” you manage to say as you wipe your mouth clean of blood.

Rhodes lights up the street with his weapons, guns and grenades and everything else Tony was ever able to pack into him. And, as the smoke begins to clear, Steve has a hopeful twang in his chest. But glowing red eyes greet him instead.

Rising to his feet, Steve extends out his hand to you. Gripping it in an instant, you look up at him with a wild sort of look in your eyes.

“Together?” you ask, chest heaving as you survey the team, all preparing their next attack.

He nods, “Always.”

At once, the forces of eight Avengers begin to throw everything they have at the rogue bot. Repulsors are going off next to his head, and lightning is sending out electrical currents through the air, and he has to bob and weave to avoid Clint and Nat’s firepower. Your shields slam together as you move for a counterattack - you going for the chest and Steve going for the legs.

Sam swoops in, determined to get Ultron from behind.

And Steve swears he sees a flash of bluish-white light zooming past.

But they all drop back on unsteady feet as the boy is pulled out of his run by a metal hand.

Ultron dangles the boy by his head, peering at him with the curious expression of a child with a magnifying glass; the boy, the anthill.

“You can not defeat me. I am the superior force.”

Steve holds up a hand, preventing anyone from doing anything risky as the boy screams out - his head being squeezed beneath a vibranium hand.

“This,” Ultron bites. “Is the Avengers extinction.”

And Steve has faced foes many times before in his life. Many times when he thought this is it, this is the end. But never has he been so sure as he is now, staring up at the mechanical horror in front of him.

But Steve Rogers was never one to back down from a fight.

Pull yourself up, Steven Rogers, echoes the voice in his head.

Straightening his posture, Steve takes a step forward, “Let him go.”

If Ultron was capable of smiling, he thinks this would be the moment when the deranged abomination would do it. An evil grin to go with an evil ambition.

The boy hollers out.

And before Steve can raise his shield, Ultron is engulfed in a shimmering wave of red light.

From across the way, the girl steps out. Her hands are encased in that same mystical light as she saunters across the valley of death toward him. Her eyes locked upon his mechanical face, her gaze steady and unbreaking.

“Release my brother, or I will tear your heart from your chest.”

And then she twists her hands as if creating an invisible ball, and as she does this Ultron releases a piercing screech - as if his entire body was aflame.

“NOW TONY!”

Steve whips his head in your direction.

The boy is dropped, and Ultron raises a hand toward the Iron Man with Steve throwing his shield in between to block the blast, but Tony Stark is not inside his armor.

“JARVIS sends his regards,” the plain-clothed man says as he jams something into the back of Ultron’s neck.

All at once, chaos seems to reign. As Ultron moves to grab Stark - you leap over them both - protecting Tony with your shield. And the girl wraps the robot’s head in her magic as Thor slams his hammer into Ultron’s side.

Steve takes his cue from you, ramming his shield down into Ultron’s chest as Nat throws her Widow Bites at his left arm and Clint aims a well-placed arrow at his head. The boy comes flying past, landing a sucker punch to the jaw. And then Hulk is stampeding across the street to slam his hands down upon Ultron’s shoulders.

“This is why - ” the robot drones, “Your species must evolve. You fight against l-logic. Emotions make you imper-rrr-fect. They will be eliminated.”

As his body caves and begins to twitch, the rogue drone lifts his arms up in a show of fury - removing the bites and Steve’s shield from his body. Knocking you and Tony backward.

“My child,” he groans, as shockwaves of electricity light his body up. “Finish your mission.”

A jet of yellow light comes arcing down from the rooftop, causing Steve to twist his neck up to see the strange floating being from earlier.

“Oh, shit,” Sam calls out. “We got another enhanced.”

Thor chortles in delight, “He is my vision.”

Steve hears the piercing of metal - your shield slams into Ultron’s back - and he takes the hint, throwing his own up at Ultron’s neck, hoping to sever that final connection. But as the red and green creation soars down toward them, that yellow beam aims itself at Ultron’s chest.

“Wh-whaaaa-what are you doing?” Ultron questions with a distorted voice. “My first creation is a f-faaailure. Failure is not tol-olllll-erated.”

The being draws closer, focusing his firepower.

“I guess, in that sense, we are both disappointments.”

Combining forces, Ultron is bathed in yellow, blue, and red light. Explosions from Rhodes and Sam go off around him, as Thor lights him up with Mjolnir. Together you and Steve ram your shields down into his shoulders.

And, at last, Ultron falls into a heap of his own destruction.

The lights fade away as the drone’s eyes turn grey.

“Is it… did we?” Clint begins to question, his bow still trained on the robot.

Hulk slams his fist down into the drone’s head, successfully crushing it under his force. And then, he chuckles.

Stepping out from behind you, Tony stumbles over the debris of battle, with you right there to righten him up.

“That was dangerous,” Steve says, too stunned to process everything just yet.

“Part of the job, right?” Tony shrugs, dusting off his ripped t-shirt.

Your eyes lift, meeting Steve’s from across the way. And a weight that had been settled so firmly in his chest finally dissipates.

Rhodes hits the ground, face shield flying up as he storms over toward his friend.

“Damn right, dangerous son of a bitch behavior. Are you kidding me?”

Tony holds his hands up in mock apology as you slowly move your way back over to the supersoldier’s side.

“Hey,” he breathes out, finally tasting fresh air on his lips.

You smile up at him, “You got a little - ”

Your hand reaches up to gently dab at his forehead. Steve blushes under your steady gaze. A couple of words come to mind, but he’s not about to say any of them with the entire team standing around, purposefully looking without actually looking at the two of you.

Pulling away, you offer him a small smile, “Sorry. Think it’s going to need stitches.”

Steve shrugs, reaching down to tangle his fingers between yours. Squeezing his hand in return, you glance over at the others. Steve follows your gaze. And only then, does he begin to truly take in the damage of the battle.

The endless bodies, the helicarrier hovering nearby, Ultron himself. There was still work to be done.

But, as the sun breaks free of the looming dark clouds, Steve feels a twinge of hope settling back into his heavy heart.

✦ Author's Note: Wow, so that was crazy, huh? So, a couple of things here that I just wanted to address about this chapter, without totally spoiling it all at the beginning.

1) I always thought the Battle of Sokovia was a little lackluster. Ultron never appeared as a real threat - it was like the Battle of New York with the Chitauri all over again. Ultron is supposed to be this massive powerhouse that is so crazy strong that he's a real challenge for the Avengers to defeat.

2) Have you ever looked up the concept art for this movie? The Avengers were drowning in a sea of Ultron bots. The bots formed a massive Ultron that was so big it blotted out the sky. It was insane. Yet, we never got to actually see it.

3) I think we all agree Pietro's death was awful. His character was introduced and he died within the same movie. I know it was all to do with Marvel and Fox's hold on the X-Men at that point, but still.

4) Oh, and I know a lot of people enjoyed having Olsen and Taylor-Johnson in the roles of the twins, but personally it never really fit for me that these two Jewish-Romani characters were being played by white actors. In this story, I have a different picture in mind, personally speaking. View them however you want.

5) Also, can I just whine about how much I hate the decision to make Wanda and Pietro willingly joining HYDRA?? Yeah, awful. Absolutely terrible. In this story, they were kidnapped by HYDRA and used by Strucker. Take that nonsense out of here.

6) Oh yeah, one more thing. As interesting as Vision's creation was in the movie, I thought it would be a cooler take to follow his comic book origins; where he was a direct creation of Ultron.

7) Wait, no. I'm not done. Can we also talk about Ultron's plan in the movie? How fucking stupid was that shit?? Take an entire country and use it as an asteroid to destroy the planet? Are you fucking kidding me with that shit. Ultron is so much better than that, so much more clever than that plan. And while he had a nice actor playing the role, I think he was too animated. I know he was the child of Tony and therefore picked up some of his mannerisms and ways of speaking. But the Ultron from the comics? Hell, the Ultron from the cartoons? He was so much more menacing because he was incapable of acting like a human villain.

And that's it. Hope you liked this one. It took me ages to get this battle right :)

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#steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fan fic #series: shameless wonder #my fic

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artist-issues · 2 months

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That’s cool that you love Twenty One Pilots (they’re one of my favorite bands, too). Quick question: How do you feel about the song Heathens?

Love it. It’s genius. It’s so good.

Musically, what is better than the shotgun-cocking sound that the guitar makes? Or the fact that the sound of the instrument vaguely sounds like the phrase “WATCH IT” that is being repeated over and over, so it sounds like you're getting shot by the words themselves. Like the warning in the lyrics isn't fast enough to save you from the consequences of needing that warning in the first place.

I don’t care at all that it’s in/was commissioned for “Suicide Squad.” I totally think Tyler Joseph is too contemplative and analytical to just write a theme song for characters he didn’t create. Plus, he can’t keep his hands off double-and-triple meanings, even when he’s writing original songs. So all of that to say, I don’t think the song is just basically about Suicide Squad.

But let’s talk about the concept that is in the song.

Can I just break it down this way? Can I just tell you what I would do if I were asked to write a song (nobody would ask me that, because I’m not a songwriter) for a movie where comic book villains were the main characters, and I knew that the movie would be playing on “people sympathizing with characters that are evil?”

I mean, seriously, some of you have asked me questions that get me thinking about the trend of idolizing bad guys. I think I can imagine pretty accurately what my thought process would be if someone asked me to write such a song.

I would think about my worldview. I might be a little uncomfortable, first-blush, at having to write a song that makes villains sound cool. But then I’d think about it. I’d think about what I believe; my knee-jerk response would (hopefully) be "what does the Bible say about villains? Definitely that they're bad, and bad guys are bad, not good to emulate, and they lose." But then as I thought deeper than that I'd realize what more the Bible says: that I am a villain. Or I was, apart from Christ.

Nasty and wicked, psycho and outcasted. I belong locked up. Apart from Him, apart from everything good and pure. But I'm not apart from Him. I still live on this planet and not in heaven, but nos that I’m in Him, what am I supposed to do about people who are not—people who are still “villains?”

Remember who I used to be. Because if I don’t remember who I used to be, I’ll start thinking I’m better than them and judge them and we’ll always be divided. But if I remember who I used to be, that I used to be a villain, I can get in there and tell them “I’m like you but here’s what’s different; I know Christ.”

Oh but you know what? I can’t say it like that. Or if I do, I should be prepared to be mauled by the villains. Because that’s what they do.

Like it’s in a pig’s makeup to roll in the mud, it’s in a villain’s nature to be villainous—especially when they expect you to strike first. I remember that nature because I used to have it.

So I have to be careful how I say it. I have to step carefully. I have to convince them that we have things in common—so that I can springboard off of that goodwill, that common ground, and tell the villains about the way out of being villainous. So they don't maul me before I can get the words out.

I genuinely believe that that’s where my Christian worldview would lead me, when looking for a direction to approach the task of “make a song about villains” from.

…And then Tyler Joseph of twenty one pilots writes:

All my friends are heathens take it slow

wait for them to ask you who you know

Please don’t make any sudden moves

You don’t know the half of the abuse

---

We don't deal with outsiders very well

They say newcomers have a certain smell

You have trust issues, not to mention

They say they can smell your intentions

You'll never know the freak show sitting next to you

You'll have some weird people sitting next to you

You'll think "How did I get here sitting next to you?"

---

I mean the easy read is to say, "heathens literally traditionally means 'people who aren't Christians.'" But it can also just carry the connotations of "irreverent, villainous people." So what I'm saying is, he runs the gamut. He's friends with the heathens, but to call them that and to (as the singer) address someone outside that group, he has to be a bridge between the two. Someone who is with the heathens, but is also no longer a heathen himself. And he has to warn the newcomer, who is not a heathen but is about to be among them, of a couple things.

First, be careful. Be careful how you move and what you say.

Second, notice the similarities between yourself and the heathens; you have trust issues and you're trying to figure out the intentions of everyone around you but you'll never be able to do that ("you'll never know.") Just like the heathens are: "they say newcomers have a certain smell." The key to completing your goal is to accept that your similarities, and it's actually not so strange to be sitting among them.

Third, what is your goal? Tyler only gives two hints about why this person the song is "talking" to might be in among the heathens at all. The first hint is "wait for them to ask you who you know." Why'd he say that?

Well one, on the surface, it sounds like you'd need to name-drop someone intimidating to impress criminals. But that doesn't explain why you should wait for them to ask you. So now comes the non-surface read of that lyric, the one that takes into account everything else Tyler's written about and said: wait for them to ask you about why you're there. About the God who makes you different.

Careful, don't come in swinging your sword. You might lop their heads off when you meant to save them. You might provoke them when you meant to bring peace. They've been abused. You're similar but you don't trust each other, and they don't trust your intentions. You can't just sledgehammer them with religious words; they won't understand. They'll associate it with the "abuse."

There's no other plausible way to read that.

You can try to say "it's about becoming a member of the twenty one pilots fandom," okay, but Tyler doesn't think the fandom is touchy about who joins. At least, he doesn't overtly think that. Overtly, he's claimed to be proud of the opposite—he's always quoting that one reviewer who said "your fanbase is the most inclusive clique I've ever seen." He loves the inclusivity. So he wouldn't write a song about a group of heathens who are hard to get in with and be a part of if he was talking about his fans, I don't think.

Now.

Second hint about why the person the songwriter is "speaking" to is in among the heathens; because that's actually the person's rightful place. "It looks like you might be one of us."

I think this is another layer of meaning. Not just "you were once dead," meaning you can still remember who you were before Christ and use that relatability to earn trust. But also, there's something else you have in common with heathens.

And this is where I think you could draw a more meta-line from a listener to twenty one pilots' music. You could go; "I really like this music. But maybe I don't just like it because I can relate to the hope. Maybe I also like it because there's more of me that relates to the struggle than I thought."

Even doubt. I think one of the odd things about Tyler's fans after Blurryface was that they were identifying so much with the struggles and the doubts and the darkness...but in the later eras, there isn't as clear an answer to the dark parts. So you get the vibe that he's noticing that the "brokenness" of his fan base is becoming the loudest part. That even people who came for the hope are also coming for the identifying-with-the-darkness—the bad parts.

#Asked #answered #twenty one pilots #heathens #suicide squad #Tyler Joseph #tylerrjoseph #josh dun #clique #skeleton clique

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aheathen-conceivably · 1 year

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The preparations for the move were almost complete. Crates had been packed and suitcases filled until they were almost too full to shut. Josephine and Antoine had signed a deal with the New Orleans city government, selling their prized jazz club for only a fraction of what it had been worth a decade before.

The city planned to raze the whole area in what they were calling a “rejuvenation effort”. Antoine couldn’t bear to think of it, or he would lose his nerve for good. And he was excited, childishly, hopefully excited.

There was promise in the West, not only for himself but for his entire family, but if he thought of his mother or their beloved club he would falter. So he packed boxes and covered furniture looking only at Zelda, thinking only of her and Violette and not of the past.

Despite all of their preparations, only one thing was not prepared for the cross country journey: Violette. Ever since her parents had told her of the move she had become sullen and unresponsive, refusing to speak to anyone or pack any of her belongings.

Both Zelda and Antoine had tried speaking to her in their own ways, but her answer remained the same: I’m not leaving. Antoine promised more gifts, new dresses, and anything else he could think of, but the more he spoke the more sullen she became. What she refused to say was that the last time she had left home he wasn’t there, and that her young mind was convinced if she were to do so again it would be without him.

So only days before their train was scheduled to depart, they called Josephine to the house.

When Josephine entered the room Violette stared straight into her eyes angrily, only to turn away the moment that she sat on the bed. Jo looked around the unpacked room while the rest of the house was so empty. For a moment she was tempted to adopt the child’s stubborn posture and lock the door.

For she was no less shocked now than when her brother had originally approached her with his plan to contact Gio and move together to New Mexico. She had expected an argument, or at least some resistance to her idea of selling the club; she had never expected Antoine to be the one to suggest leaving first.

In truth, her own plans hadn’t spanned far beyond selling the club. While she had entertained some vague ideas of moving to Chicago or even California, she had never considered going back to Gio, to some farm where she would have to rely on him and only him for almost every aspect of her life. As much as she wanted to see him again, she didn’t know if she could bear the feeling.

But the hope in Antoine’s voice had all but convinced her; then, her remaining reservations had melted away once she saw the sale price of their property, barely enough to get them out of New Orleans together. But here, in her childhood bedroom, her memories seemed to matter more than any promise, her roots more than any future, and her nostalgia more than any security.

Then she caught sight of the music box on Violette’s dresser, the same one that her mother had once given to her and she had passed to Violette. She reached over and wound up the small brass handle so that the ballerina began to twirl and a lilted melody played hauntingly from the box.

“Lottie, do you know where your grand-mère bought this music box?”

The child still didn’t turn, but Jo noticed that her rigid posture had softened, so she continued, “When your grand-mère was only a teenager she ran away from home, all the way to New York to be a dancer. Her whole life everyone had told her that she was talented and beautiful enough to make it big, and perhaps she was. Only people here judged her for the way she looked, you see? So she went all the way to New York City to follow her dreams. Sometimes, my little love, we must go elsewhere to be who we want to become. And your Momma and Poppa know that. They know that you’ll be much happier somewhere you are allowed to be whoever you want to be.”

Violette’s demeanor changed notably, and she spoke to her aunt in a small voice, “You promise that you’re coming with me? That Poppa is coming and we’ll all be together?”

“Lottie, of course, my love. Your Momma, Poppa, and I will all be there with you.”

Finally Violette turned, her large eyes seemingly free of the rage they had held when Josephine first entered the room, “And if I go, can I be like her? Like the ballerina in the box?”

As she stared down at Violette, Josephine saw through time, to herself lying on her bed in that same room, watching the ballerina spin in the music box. It was her first night working at the brothel and she just kept watching her spin, and spin, and spin, ignoring her mother calling her name from the doorway.

Delphine sat on the bed next to her daughter, a blend of tender impatience in her face as she tried to soothe her fears, “Josephine, child, I know that you are nervous, but I can protect you here. This is our lot in this life, the fate that expectations and prejudice have placed upon us. Only we wield the power here, do you understand? We get to make the rules and reap the benefits, even if we must play along with things we do not desire. I promise that I will look after you no matter what, okay? I love you, my darling, it will all be alright.”

Josephine looked back at her niece, replacing the rage filling her with hope for the small child sitting in front of her. She brought her hand to her cheek and smiled, “Oh Lottie, I’ll make sure you can be whatever it is that you want, no matter what anyone else may tell you. I promise you that, my darling.”

#long post today my dears I do apologize!#it’s the penultimate episode so everyone has to have their moment before we go 🥺#1929 #sims 4 historical #ts4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #the darlingtons #1920s #antoine duplanchier #zelda darlington #josephine duplanchier #violette darlington

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third-arch · 11 months

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No Surprises-A Trafalgar Law x Reader Fan Fiction Chapter 1-Birthday

sfw, fluff, some cussing

Today was your Captain's birthday. The Heart Pirates enjoyed themselves while the party was in full swing. Chatter amongst your crewmates was largely focused on other October birthdays. "I can't think of many other people who have October birthdays…" said Penguin.

"Oh!! I'm pretty sure Marco's birthday happened, and Bartolomeo's is today, too!"

"Eh? How do you even know about that? That's just weird, dude"

You giggle. One of your crewmates looks at you,

"Say, Reader, when's your birthday? You're a bit more of a rookie here than the rest of us." "It's actually one week from today! Hehe" you stare into your lap.

"The thirteenth?? Dude! We need to celebrate for Reader!" "Ah! Nonono, it's okay! Like, I don't really go anywhere on my birthdays, I kinda just like being alone..." you respond, still staring into your lap.

This was normal for you to do. You weren't necessarily the most outgoing person on board. You kept to yourself most of the time. You also loathed parties.

"Like one time, I went to this dance when I was a teenager...and..." Trafalgar Law, your captain, sat at the far end of the table, quietly listening to your ramblings.

Hm, I guess I'm still learning more about her everyday. He felt a bit torn, nonetheless. Did she show up to my party because she was part of the crew or because she wanted to? No, that seems selfish of me to think like that. Hm...

You had an idea.

You excused yourself to go get some more lemonade from the bar. You weren't much of a drinker. You liked more simple beverages, like water, and sugar water...and...pretty much water with one or two ingredients added to it.

While refilling your drink, Captain Law approached you.

“Kanna-ya, may I have a word with you, privately?"

"Oh! Sure Captain" you felt a little anxious. Hopefully, you weren't in trouble. You sometimes had a hard time reading your captain because he was always so stern. According to your crewmates, he used to smile more. But, since his encounter with Doflamingo, his smile is more of a rare sight.

You left the busy kitchen to follow your captain to a corner of the deck. He leaned against the wall, eyes closed. "Hi Captain! Happy birthday!" You smiled

"Oi, Kanna-ya," your captain responded calmly, opening his eyes "Are you enjoying the party?"

"Yeah! I'm not much of a party person, so this is really out of my comfort zone haha, but everyone has been really sweet so far!" "That's good to hear. I'm glad you're feeling welcomed, nonetheless"

You felt sort of awkward with how serious he can appear. Your Captain was taller than you, so you felt shy at times, too. Staring at a floorboard underneath your feet, you ask, "So, how has your birthday been so far?"

"Easygoing, I guess. I'm not too big on parties, either. I just wanted to make sure that you guys were having fun and had a day to unwind." You hum in agreement.

"mm...Anyways, Captain, did you need something from me?". Your captain looked at you with sternness in his eyes. “...Kanna-ya, what are your plans for your birthday?” you look down at the ground again. "Not really anything, sir. I just kinda relax and wait for my birthday to end, I guess" you chuckle awkwardly. Captain Law still looked unamused.

"It doesn't have to be that way,” he paused, taking a moment to gather his words. “Do you want to go somewhere with me? Just us...alone?”

Sure, your captain was very stern and sometimes scary. But above all else, you admired him a great deal. Captain Law is someone very important to you. Usually, when he spoke to you, his words felt warm like the sun. Anytime he was harsh was when you did something reckless or potentially harmful to your crewmates. Whenever you said something silly or asked him a stupid medical question, he played along.

You rarely approached his office, because you thought he never wanted people visiting. You gave him as much space as you could, so much that he wanted to see you more often. However, you knew that deep down, you would always be welcomed anytime. Whenever you were doing a chore nearby Captain Law, you would rant to your captain, knowing he was carefully listening to every word.

He helped you through some really dark points in your life, and this trip might be a great way to say "Thank you".

“Sure! Where would we go?”

"Well, there's an island, not too far away from here. We could make it in about a week, hopefully by your birthday. It's covered in flowers, trees, and the weather is beautiful. There's also...other beautiful places to unwind" this is Trafalgar Law's polite and extremely low-key way of saying “hot springs”

You felt tingling sensations in your cheeks. The thought of it all sounded so wonderful. A place where you could play music, make flower crowns, and just be happy. Captain Law knew you needed this more than you thought.

"Yes! I'd love to!" you say excitedly. Your captain gave you a gentle smile. "Do you think we could stop by the Straw Hats on the way there? If they're on the way, I mean. Sanji wants to give something to me. "

"Sure. We can try that."

"YAY!!! Thank you, Captain!!" You hug him, his arms trapped under your grip.

"You're welcome anytime, Kanna-ya" he replies, outwardly unbothered. Hearing his heart skip a beat, your eyes widen and you quickly step back, retracting your hold. You felt incredibly embarrassed by your sudden and unprofessional action.

"AH! I’m so sorry, captain. I don't know why I did that. I know you're not a touchy-or whatever-Ah…um, is it okay if I hug you, captain, or-" Your Captain’s eyes sparkled as he smiled

"...Of course, Kanna-ya", he said, prepared for your arms this time. You embraced your Captain, arms wrapped around his sides and your face buried right into his chest. Your Captain gently pulled you in with his left hand very gently holding the back of your head close to him. His other arm around your shoulders.

You blushed, hearing his heartbeat pound loud and fast. He felt warm, and he had a good heart. You felt safe in his arms. You wanted to stay like this, it felt right. You both closed your eyes, completely at peace with one another.

Before completely getting lost in the embrace, you suddenly remembered your birthday present.

"Ah! Captain!" You spoke into his chest, "H-Hm? What is it, Kanna-ya?" responds Captain Law, caught off guard by the sudden and soft vibrations from your voice. Your captain loosened his arms around you, looking down at you with his tender, golden eyes.

"Gimme a sec" you look down, fidgeting and rummaging your hand in your pocket, your other arm still holding his side. You didn't seem to notice that Captain Law's arms were still holding you close, and he found that adorable.

You finally pull out a small box, about the size of your hand. "Happy birthday! Just open it later!" You hand him the box and quickly escape his embrace to go spend time with the others. "Thank you for everything, Captain! I hope you have a good birthday!" You say excitedly, struggling to make eye contact with him as you walk away. “Oi! I’m your captain! Be a little more…respectful.” It was no use, she was having too much fun for that.

“Jeez…”

Later that night, alone in his quarters, Law slowly undid the wrapping that you had made for him. In poor handwriting on the box read,

🌸“To: Law Captain-ya!! :)) 🤍🤍 From: Kanna-ya!! ✨✨✨”🌸

He blushed. “Damn, she didn’t need to be that cute with it…” He whispered to himself.

He carefully lifted the lid to find two hibiscus flower hair clips with a surprise attack of a pinch of glitter now getting everywhere. “!! Jeez, it's all over my fingers and desk! That girl…I am going to have a word with her tomorrow…”

They both were carefully sculpted and crafted, yet flexible and sturdy. One was painted pink in the middle and the other was painted yellow. There was a small note underneath the hair pins.

Law picked up the letter with his glittery fingers. written in poor handwriting. It read,

” Dear Captain-ya,

Happy birthday! Thank you for all that you have done for me! I wouldn't be here without you and the Heart Pirates. You are really sweet and generous. I bought these at a Wano marketplace and thought they’d look cute good on you! I hope you like them.

Sincerely,

Kanna-ya :))!! 🥳🥳🥳

P.S., Do you want to have lunch tomorrow/sometime with me? I can pay!! :0!!

-Kanna-ya” 🤍

Law had a big grin plastered on his face, thinking about how short and lovely you would look walking to a cafe with him. He carefully inspected the Hibiscus hairpins while he thought about you.

He liked imagining how you were a somewhat messy eater, always getting sauce on the sides of your mouth. How soft your hair might be, what you would wear, what perfume you would use. How he would have to point it out and maybe even

…no, I’m not bold enough to do that. Covering his hands over his face, Captain Law sighed. “Jeez, Kanna-ya…”. His heart fluttered, beating loudly the rest of the night.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hi, everyone! I hope you like my fan fiction if you stumble upon it!! This is my first time writing something like this. The entire fan fiction is complete, I'm just editing and posting as I go along. The title is inspired by "no surprises - a trafalgar law animatic (one piece)" by luseraphims on youtube!! As a huge fan of both Radiohead and Trafalgar Law, "No Surprises" (and, even more in a later chapter,) was my final pick.

Hope you guys enjoy!

#one piece #op #one piece art #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #law #one piece imagine #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #one piece fanfiction

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hollowwrites · 1 year

Text

Ignorance is Bliss

Summary - Continuing my rewrite of things but this is totally made up. I think its unbelievable that we forgive Seb after Ignorant-gate so quickly but maybe that’s because I’m an Ominis girly. So this is my justification

This has made me so sad to do I don’t like when people don’t get on…I genuinely must be the softest Slytherin in the planet

Warnings - mentions of Crucio, Angst, our bois just being shouty at each other

Word Count - 2408

Sebastian had not slept in the dorms for weeks.

Though the peace and quiet at night was enjoyable for Ominis, the eerie sound of silence caused a sickening pit to bore into his stomach. It only grew the more nights that went by.

Since he had cast Crucio on Evelyn, he’d become somewhat manic. Missing classes, skipping meals, holing himself away in the Undercroft for hours at an end to the point where no one had seen him for a couple of days.

Ominis didn’t even know if he was sleeping.

It had gotten harder and harder to maintain an ‘eye’ on the mischievous Slytherin. Ominis needed to know where he was originally to be able to tail him and with him skipping lessons, not coming back to the dorms and Evelyn now not talking to him, Ominis’ only hope was hopefully catching him in the halls. Hear his voice, Smell his cologne…anything.

He was left with nothing.

Last he spoke to Evelyn, he could feel her animosity, despite him imploring her, he had no idea what had gone on between the two of them. She couldn’t help but feel hurt towards the two of them. After all, they were a package deal and no matter how close they had become, Ominis was Sebastian’s friend before hers.

That’s how it would always be.

“He’s your friend Ominis” She snapped accusatorially, poking a boney finger into his chest before turning on her heels and walking away from him.

“Evelyn, please. I am not blind to his faults. Tell me what he did” he strode after her, not needing his wand to track her down. The heavy stomp of her feet was enough to locate her weaving path through the oncoming students.

“He dragged me off somewhere dangerous, as usual, under the guise of helping me and then turned it all back on me.” She stopped and faced him again “Making it about himself and…and Anne” she didn’t mean to sound bitter. But a tiny part of her now resented Anne. From the one conversation they had, she seemed lovely but…sometimes she wanted help from Sebastian, without him guilting her into helping his sister.

Evelyn sighed in frustration before turning to leave. Ominis grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him a little, keeping a firm and solid grip on her elbow.

“Don’t touch me” Evelyn spat, shaking him off her violently “And you can tell Sebastian, he doesn’t have to worry about my Ignorance anymore.”

Now, Ominis waited the one place he knew Sebastian would return to.

The Undercroft.

He stood with his back pressed against the cold stone for a few hours before finally the ancient clunk of the Undercrofts cupboard rang down the hall and into the large cavernous room.

Moments later, the distinct heavy footsteps of Sebastian filled his ears. His familiar scent moved by him, though it was murky, like the cologne was wearing off and he hadn’t reapplied it or it lay dormant under the stagnant musk of his robes.

Ominis intended to confront his friend about his absense. Teachers had begun approaching The Young Gaunt with fear for his best friends mental state. But he had nothing for them.

However, as he pushed himself off the stone wall to approach Sebastian, he only had one question for him;

“You called her Ignorant?” Ominis’ authoritative tone suddenly making him known

“Merlin’s beard Ominis! You can’t just sneak up on people like that…” Sebastian jumped, and Ominis could hear his heart beat quicken. He recovered quickly and stood his ground "How did you know I was here?"

“Where else would you be?” Ominis’ tone was sharp and accusatory

"I just…need some time to sort through this Spellbook" Sebastian said coolly, his mind thinking back to the Scriptorium…

And Evelyns screams…

And how her attitude completely changed around him after that night.

Sebastian’s heart broke a little at the thought. He recognised the feeling from when he first witnessed Anne have an episode.

An episode brought on by a Goblin curse.

Goblins that Evelyn was perfectly happy to commune with.

"Alone. Is that against the rules?" Sebastian spat his anger returning once more

“No” Ominis said coolly “But what is against the rules, is insulting your friends who are trying their hardest to help you!”

"It seems only right that I'm allowed to speak my mind to someone who speaks it so often to me." Sebastian bristled, his eyes narrowing slightly in a way that would have made most people back down, but not Ominis.

“So it’s true? You called her Ignorant?” Ominis asked genuinely. He wanted it to be a lie. For Sebastian to say ‘Oh No it was a misunderstanding. I accepted Eves help and Anne is cured’ but Ominis had never been that optimistic and he no longer felt like he knew Sebastian. His oldest friend…and he stood before him, a stranger

"She is ignorant," Sebastian shot back. He was feeling the frustration that had been building up for weeks, months. His shoulders twitched as he stood his ground. "If she wasn't, she would have known approaching a Goblin for assistance was the last possible thing I would want. If she had even a shred of intelligence…" Even saying it out loud was cathartic.

“She was trying to help you!” Ominis snapped “She went out of her way to find you a contact that could help your sister and because it’s Goblin you refused? Pitiful”

"What do you know?" he spat back. "Nothing. You have no idea what I've had to deal with. My sister is dying and instead of helping me, she just sends me to some stranger she's known for a few months?"

“Don’t lie to me” Ominis rolled his eyes “It isn’t that she sent you to a stranger…it’s that she sent you a Goblin…”

"Yes!" He snapped. "Would you trust one of them? They cursed my sister!" He was almost shouting at this point. "I won't let a Goblin help me. She had no right to go behind my back lik-"

“Behind your back?” Ominis’ face twisted in disgust “You’re not the centre of the universe, Sebastian. She didn’t do all of that for you. She has her own life, her own situations that she’s dealing with and she thought she could help” Ominis’ wand flashed faster as it gave a more detailed description of his surroundings. Everything just felt hostile, the walls felt closer than usual, the stone pillar seemed to buckle and bend around him in this bubble of pain and hate.

"Her situations? How about my situation? How about my sister's situation?” He spat selfishly “I have a right to be angry. Anyone would, but because it's me, I'm not supposed to feel it, I'm just supposed to put on a brave face and suffer all my problems in silence, right?" Sebastian took a step closer to Ominis, his hurt and anger and pain washing over him in droves.

“No one is saying that…” Ominis said confused. He felt his face twisting into a mask of cynicism and he had to fight against his natural instincts to not outwardly show his emotions. Sebastian was fragile right now…anything could set him off “…what I’m saying is she tried to help you and instead of politely declining because of your, frankly, idiot prejudices, you called her ignorant and made her question everything about your friendship.” Ominis thought back to the conversation he had with Evelyn and how angry she sounded. How broken she must have felt knowing one of the two people she was friends with here, now despised her.

A small part of him was angry with Sebastian for causing a rift between himself and Eve, but he pushed that deep down. That wasn’t a converstion to be had right now.

"Politely declining?" Sebastian snorted, his voice like acid. "How was I supposed to do that? 'Oh, I appreciate your help and I'm sure your filthy goblin friend is wonderful, but sorry I don’t really want to accept help from the people who did this to her. You understand, right?' Was that how you expected me to react?"

“Don’t be so dramatic, Sebastian” Ominis folded his arms across his chest, a clear sign he was tired of Sebastian excuses and jabs.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. I'm supposed to suffer all this in silence because the alternative just makes people uncomfortable, right? The alternative makes everyone happy…but me." Sebastian took a step towards Ominis himself, his chest heaving at the thought of doing…nothing. His Uncle would be so pleased to finally have a neutered Sebastian, his sister would fade to nothing and he’d mill along to his classes doing just enough to stay at the school. What a marvellous existence. "Have any other sage advice?" he asked sarcastically

“Suffer in Silence?” Ominis laughed darkly “You have dragged both me and her through hell with you. You forced me to to tell you my family secrets, you cast Crucio on her, the pain she must have felt, I have gotten you out of countless detentions” Ominis paused “…that is not suffering in silence. We have banded around you and you are throwing it back in our faces” Ominis sighed “Truly I am sorry about what is happening with Anne…but don’t lose everyone around you too”

"You want to talk about hell? My life is hell. Ever since that night in Feldcroft, I've had nightmares every single night. I haven't had a good night's sleep in months. When I look in a mirror…all I see is her” Sebastian looked into Ominis's eyes, the pools of blue always had an indescribable way of showing emotion. "If it weren't for you, if it wasn't for…Evelyn, I'd have nothing. But that doesn't change the fact that I will do whatever it takes to save my sister and I refuse to give up, even if it means being hated by you"

“Hated? I would never hate you…” Ominis narrowed his eyes “What are you planning?”

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing! That's the entire problem, Ominis! I haven't done half of what I want do to save my sister! I'm playing this safe. I'm being nice! Polite! And what do you think that got me?" Sebastian began pacing as his anger grew.

“You’re delusional…safe? Nice? We were trapped inside Salazar Slytherins Scriptorium and still would be. You used an Unforgivable Curse to get us out” Ominis’ eyes were wide, was his friend truly so far gone? “Evelyn was in pain for days, Sebastian. We were not safe…it was not nice”

"Don't lecture me, Ominis!” Sebastian looked down, Evelyns screams ringing in his head. As he closed his eyes, the incantations for other curses and Unforgivables floated towards the forefront of his mind

“I could do much worse” he whispered darkly “I would happily throw everything away if it means saving Anne." Sebastian stopped pacing directly in front of Ominis. "Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

“Sebastian, you’re not listening to me.” Ominis ran his hand through his hair “I love Anne…I understand I really do but pushing Evelyn away will not help Anne. Listen to her, she is a capable witch…and she is trying so hard…for you”

"She's trying to help me because it benefits her too, let's not fool ourselves" Sebastian said with a bitter laugh. He paused "You've met her, what…six months ago?" Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "Sure, she's a 'capable witch' but you can't possibly know who she really is. You can't make that call for me."

“Explain to me, Sebastian, how helping you has benefited her” Ominis’ anger flared again. How dare he speak of her like that.

"Oh she hasn’t told you? Maybe you’re not as close as you thought” Sebastian sneered as though he was getting some sort of sick thrill out of Evelyn being closer with him. “She has all these grand adventures…and when she needs help, she asks me” Sebastian looks down muttering “Coming here in her fifth year, no family, no friends, with all of those eyes on her and special attention…she thinks she’s important-“

“She is important” Ominis snapped turning to walk away and then stopped “…and your friendship is not the only one she has!! You two are not the only ones without family and you are not the only one who can provide her with support!”

"Oh," he muttered and smirked. Ominis could feel his sudden shift into arrogance from a mile away "So that's what this is about... You're in love with her."

“Oh for Merlin’s sake…” Ominis began pacing “You are impossible lately”

"What? It's true, isn't it?" Ominis felt Sebastian circling him “She had a hold on you from the get go. Remember how you go so upset because you weren’t the one to show her the Undercroft? Remember how you snapped at me in Charms for asking her to Hogsmeade?”

“You’re ridiculous” Ominis stated coldly

"Am I?" Sebastian smiled sinisterly "You spend all day together. You' listen to every word of what she says. You even seem to be taking her on these outings to the village without me. What kind of impression do you think one might draw from all that?"

“That she is the only friend I have left since you’ve left me!” Ominis’ anger and betrayal all came flooding out. If he hadn’t have spent years emotionally blocking himself off from everyone, he may have cried

Sebastian was taken aback.

He’d done stupid things but Ominis had never spoken to him like that

"What- since I've done what now?"

“All you do is read, and research, and hole yourself away. I’m losing you…I miss you” Ominis’ stoic face cracked and the slightest bit of emotion bled through “It feels like I’ve lost Anne and You…and all I have left is her…”

There was a pause. Sebastian looked like he didn't know what to say. A look of quiet realisation slowly crossed his face.

"I have neglected you" he stated. "It's just... difficult."

“I understand…” Ominis made no movements toward Sebastian, no further arguements. He was tired.

“I will apologise to Evelyn…” Sebastian muttered "but I just don't think she'll forgive me." He looked up at Ominis. "She…thinks I’m manipulative” he exhaled a sharp laugh through his nose “…I was- am. If I came back with an apology, won’t she just think I’m playing nice for my own selfish reasons?"

“I’ll talk to her”

Masterlist

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gale-dekarios · 8 months

Text

Bouncing Baby Bloodsucker

Astarion and Tav had no reason to suspect that the undead would be able to reproduce. Turns out they were wrong. They approach Shadowheart with one question on their minds: will a baby vampire kill a human parent?

Trans Male!Tav/Astarion whoopsy-daisy into becoming dads.

Rated: M

Read me on [AO3]

“Well yes,” Shadowheart snipped, “that’s usually what happens when you have unprotected sex.”

“Between the living, yes, but the undead shouldn’t be able to-- right?” Tav asked, pitching forward in his seat. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Astarion that his hands had been held loosely over his protruding stomach ever since he began to suspect that the morning sickness, skipped periods, and extra weight was more than a rough patch in his health.

Shadowheart folded her arms, raising a brow, “I’m hardly an expert. Why didn’t you go to a normal doctor?”

“What a good idea Shadowheart! I’m sure any local doctor will act completely reasonably when they find out that a foul creature of the night left a surprise vamplet inside him. Should we break out the good torches and pitchforks?”

Despite his shortness, Astarion’s knuckles were held tight against his sides, reaching a shade of white that was truly alarming given his natural paleness, and he was pretty sure he was shaking to boot. The guilt; -- at not knowing better, at not taking precautions, of putting a bloodsucking demon with an unknown depth of hunger into his beloved partner, endangering them from the inside in a way he couldn’t begin to help with, -- wracked through his body in fresh waves as his thoughts spiralled like a madman’s.

“Shadowheart,” Tav pleaded, grabbing one of her hands in his, “We need to know what we’re dealing with here.”

She sighed, face screwing in concentration. “Fine. Hold on.”

She rose from her chair, marching across the room to pull some writing paper and an ink pen out from an old drawer, the pen scratching against the page disturbing an otherwise silent room.

Tav gave Astarion a weak smile, who in turn couldn’t muster one of his own. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Astarion mouthed to him, but it only made Tav’s brow furrow. He reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling it out of its fist, rubbing his thumb across his aching knuckles as he held it gently in his palms. The kindness of the gesture had Astarion’s stomach in uncomfortable knots. He couldn’t have told you how many people he had had sex with over the centuries, but the idea that his biology had only chosen to kick in now felt like a cruel joke the world was playing on him. Or rather, he really, really hoped his biology had only chosen to kick in now. The alternative was too ghastly to imagine.

“Alright, hopefully we’ll hear back soon.” Shadowheart broke the silence. She held the paper in clasped hands and muttered a few arcane words over it, the letter bursting into blinding divine radiance before disappearing from sight. She sat back down, levelling Tav with a sympathetic stare. “Are you alright? You look sick.” (Astarion tensed.)

“I don’t know how I am, it’s just… all so much. I’ve barely slept since we realised that I might be-- I think I’m too exhausted for it to have truly sank in yet.”

“I should take you back home,” Astarion said, his voice cracking at the end.

“You’re also free to sleep here for a while, if you like.”

Tav nodded, pulling his hand away from Astarion’s, and with it the little reassurance he had. “Thank you Shadowheart, really. I know all of this really isn’t your thing.”

“No, it’s not, but your little interloping tadpole is hardly the first daunting task we’ve dealt with together. At least this one doesn’t make a meal of your brain.” The joke fell flat as the unspoken sentiment filled a glaring hole in the conversation. A meal of his brain, perhaps not, but a vampire foetus to a living father hardly spells good news. Shadowheart sighed to herself softly, “The bedsit is through there, make yourself at home.”

Tav nodded and stood, leaning down to kiss his partner's cheek gently, before leaving the room silently, their absence haunting the chair next to Astarion. He crossed his legs, hands buried deep into the crook of his elbows as he and Shadowheart began a staring competition.

Loathe as he was to, he broke first. “Well?” He said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Is he going to die?”

“We won’t know for certain until we hear back.” Shadowheart answered truthfully, “But it’s not looking good. He seems to have the markers of a regular pregnancy for now, but it’s likely because the thing doesn’t have teeth to bite yet.”

Astarion flinched. “We didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“But it did.” Shadowheart snapped, before tempering her rage, blowing a short breath out. “Listen, I don’t think you’d do anything to intentionally hurt him, not anymore. But the truth is that the living and the dead are incompatible. It just doesn’t work. The living are always going to end up dead, or the dead are destroyed so the living might continue.”

Astarion shook his head. “No, we’ve been through far too much now to just give up anytime there’s a bump in the road. We’ll figure this out and be more careful from now on.”

“Astarion.” Shadowheart warned. “Depending on what we hear back, there might not be a ‘from now on’, do you understand that? You spent so long luring people back for Cazador, why did it never occur to you that this could be possible?”

“Do you think I should have asked before or after torture sessions?” he snapped in return. “There was hardly a guidebook he handed out when he turned us, and the welcoming committee -- my darling siblings -- didn’t know any more than me either.”

Shadowheart straightened up, “Your siblings.”

“Yes, what about them?”

“You have six of them. And seven thousand more victims roaming the Underdark.”

“If they survived, yes.”

“Well surely you can’t be the first that this has happened to. If it’s true that Cazador never mentioned it was possible to you, they wouldn’t know either. Do you think you could find some of them? Ask around to see if anybody down there has had the same problem as you?”

Astarion’s brow creased in distaste. “Even if I could find some of them, for a lot of them I’m the last person they want to see, especially heralding a new breed of vampire.”

“This is hardly about you now is it?” Shadowheart shot back.

He grimaced. “Fine. I’ll travel to the Underdark at sundown tomorrow.”

“At this point it’s the least you could do.”

The room fell silent. Unable to retort, his wit replaced with worry, he stewed. Astarion knew he had done many terrible things in his life, and even more in his death, but he feared this might have been the worst.

A few hours passed of little note. Unmoving, his mind raced, and a cup of untouched water stood equally still on the table before him, the subject of his steady gaze. With his flawless skin and rigid posture, he could have passed for a statue. Shadowheart had left to do something earlier, Astarion wasn’t really listening, his ears roaring with stolen blood. And so he was alone. With the cup. Fuck.

It clatters against the wall violently and Astarion’s chest heaves with effort, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

A moment later, a sleep disturbed face peeks through the doorway.

“Astarion!” Tav gasped.

"I'm sorry, I woke you up. Gods. I just--" He struggled to find the words.

"Are you okay?"

“Am I okay? No, I'm not okay. I spent centuries being tortured by Cazador and the first good thing I have after getting out, of being free, I ruin it with this disgusting body of mine. I have countless victims, destroyed by this,” he spits, gesturing wildly at himself, “and yet I couldn’t be done, could I? I had to claim just one more. So no, Tav, I have to say, I am not fucking okay.”

Tav’s face paled as they swallowed visibly. “I’m not a prop."

“What?” Astarion asked incredulously.

“I said I’m not a prop, Astarion.” He put his hands on his hips, the way he did before he was about to make a point. “You didn’t do anything to me, we had sex together, and I’m not destroyed just because I have a piece of you inside of me. I don’t want you to think of me like that. I’m better than that. You’re better than that.” He gripped Astarion's forearms. “Do you understand? I don’t know what any of this means for me, for us, and I’m not going to lie to you, I am terrified. But I need you to be terrified with me, not terrified for me, and that requires us to be on the same page with this. We fucked up, we’re scared, and we’ll figure it out. Together. As equally responsible participants. Okay?”

“I just feel like I should have known.”

“As should I.”

His tears fell over. “I am scared.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.”

“What now?”

“We wait for Shadowheart to get back to us with more information. We know nothing, we’re just guessing based on our worst fears. When we know, we’ll know.”

“That’s incredibly unhelpful.”

“... I know.”

“What if--”

The door creaked open and Shadowheart stood in the doorframe, surveying the scene with an icy stare, something rectangular in her hands.

“You washed my walls. How kind of you both.”

“Sorry, Shadowheart.” Tav said, letting his hands drop.

“Gale got back to us,” she waved the rectangle at them.

Astarion spluttered, “It was Gale you wrote to?!”

“Yes. If you want information, who better to ask than the former wizarding prodigy without a social life to speak of?”

“Oh Gods, everyone’s going to know,” Tav moaned, rubbing his brow.

“Gale doesn’t shut up when you get him going, but he does know I can hurt him very, very badly. Excellent motivator, don’t you think?”

“What did he say?” Astarion asked reluctantly.

“See for yourself.” She handed the rectangle to Tav, which he could now make out was a loose letter tied to a dusty mauve tome.

He took it, opening the letter with shaking hands. He felt Astarion immediately press against his back, reading over his shoulder.

This should do it Shadowheart, will write you properly soon.

Dearest Tav and Astarion --

I believe some congratulations are in order! It’s no easy task to prepare for a new member of the family, but even more so with the kind you have cooking away. Should you find yourselves in need of a break, please remember Uncle Gale in his Waterdeep tower.

The good news is that the children of vampires -- known as dhampirs -- can lead a perfectly normal life. They can sustain themselves both on blood and regular food, they possess strange talents such as walking across vertical surfaces, and their physical appearances are as varied as any humanoid race, although it is likely they’ll possess some vampiric qualities--, i.e, elongated canines, red, or glowing eyes, ashen skin, the like -- but hardly the monsters their vampire parents are portrayed to be -- no offence Astarion.

I’ve sent along a tome I possess on the matter, please do take good care of it. I’ve bookmarked the relevant pages. From what I’ve read, there is no cause for alarm, although the (fascinating!) gestation period may not be as expected dear friends, so please pay close attention to Chapter 18, section 3. The bad news is that there’s no training guide on how to look after these children. You have a big challenge ahead of you both! But I’m sure between the two of you, as wonderful as you are for each other, you will figure out, like any parents, how to move forward with your new little family unit.

Please visit sometime, it would be wonderful to see you both, and I am unfortunately currently unable to disrupt my teaching schedule to make the trip to Baldur’s Gate. Perhaps with a little one on the way, one of you will accept my offer to introduce you to that fine Waterhavdian jeweller that I’ve mentioned previously?

P.S. Gale makes a fine middle name, don’t you think?

Yours Faithfully,

Prof. Gale Dekarios

“Wait a moment,” Astarion said, “Does this mean--?”

Tav whipped around to face him, eyes wide, grasping the letter like a lifeline, “We’re okay?”

“We’re okay.”

“We’re okay!”

He launched at Astarion, arms curling around the back of his neck, and he caught his waist, hauling him up into a hug.

“I can’t believe it,” Tav gasped as Astarion let him down, still in a close embrace. “We--! Oh. We have a lot to talk about. Do we want a baby?”

Astarion spluttered. “I--”

“I mean, babies are big responsibilities. And we’re hardly the most stable people in the world.” He gripped his own head. “The amount of weapons we have at home. We’d need to babyproof the blades. Can you babyproof a mace?”

“We’d need to get jobs. Real jobs, I mean. We couldn’t be on the move all the time.”

“And the cost. Babies are expensive little creatures. And the time. They need so much attention.”

“Exactly. It’s a horrible idea.”

“Terrible. We wouldn’t be able to cope. We should definitely do the responsible thing here and get rid of them.”

“Right.”

“We’re in agreement. Take that for incompatible you horrible little cleric.” Astarion sneered.

“What?”

“I didn't have to help!”

The screams pierce the house, the walls shaking as two toddlers whirled around their legs like miniature steel watchers, destroying everything in their path.

“Aren’t they precious?” Petras cooed, looking after his blond-haired son who was currently smashing his tiny fists at the wall as he tried to remember how to walk up it.

“Our little darling, perhaps, but your little demon seems to have the brains of his father,” Astarion curled his lip.

As Astarion spoke, their daughter, a bright-eyed little girl, growing more beautiful with each passing day, shoved an ink pen up her nose. He shot her a withering glare, the toddler blissfully unaware of the social disaster she had just created for him. She was lucky he thought the world of her, or he might have pinned her to the ceiling, out of the way.

“Clearly,” Petras scoffed.

“Thanks again for your help Petras, we both appreciate it. We really have no idea what we’re doing here.” Tav spoke up.

Petras nodded, “It’s a bit macabre to put such a little one into a coffin, but it really is the best way to make sure they don’t start running across the ceilings at night, and our Eric had grown out of his months ago. Do you have that soothing salve recipe I gave you?”

“Yes! Thank you.”

“She’ll be getting her fangs in soon. They’ll push out the teeth that are already there and it’ll hurt, and not only that, but when they do grow in, they’re sharp, so you’ll need to get her some caps until you can teach her to keep them out of the way. It’s not pretty, but she’ll be okay.”

“Daddy!” a little voice yelled insistently, and three heads snapped round. Their little girl ran to Astarion, “Stuck.” She pointed to her nose, the black pen protruding from the nostril.

“Oh for the love of--” Astarion hooked under her arms to pull her up onto his hip. “Okay, let’s see. Tilt your head back. Okay. One, two, three.” He pulled the pen, grimacing at the disgusting thing -- and the pen was pretty gross too. “Don’t put anything up your nose. Please?”

“Down!” She demanded.

“Darling.”

“Dooooown!!!”

He let the wriggling toddler out of his arms, placing the pen gingerly off to the side as Petras suppressed a laugh.

“I must say, fatherhood suits you Astarion.”

“Shut up,” he growled.

“Anyway, I need to go, sunrise soon. We’re teaching Eric to be diurnal, but he still seems to prefer the night. I don’t mind it, means I can spend more time with him.”

“That we can agree on,” Astarion said. “I miss her during the day.”

Tav pulled his arm through his comfortingly. “I told you we’ll figure it out.”

“I know.”

“If you do find anything out about that cure thing, send word yeah? I know a couple hundred people that’d want to get their hands on that.”

“Naturally.”

“Right. Eric!” He called, and Eric’s small eyes went wide as he heard his dad speak the dreaded words, “Time to go.”

Blink. Blink. Havoc. Screaming. A sharp nip into the meat of Petras’s arm. (‘Where are your teething caps?!')

Finally, they were alone, standing in a loose embrace as they watched their daughter roam the living room with the rapt attention of a dedicated jungle explorer.

“Why did it have to be Petras?” Astarion moaned flatly.

“We should be grateful. He does all the hard work and we steal the results. Too bad he’s an idiot.”

Astarion snorts, pressing his cheek on top of Tav’s head.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #astarion #astarion/tav #trans male tav #pregnancy #my fic

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crystalskyz · 3 months

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lore dump about ruby. I beg.

YES I WILL!!! (I just an evil little giggle XD ) this takes place in the tts universe. Vat7k is cannon to this au(?) too! Get ready for a whole ass novel!

She was born into a very financially well off family and lived in a nice neighborhood. They were actually nice people too and raised her well. Her dad taught her to fight and her mom how to sew and stuff like that. Her mom gave her the knife you see in her hair. It has her mom’s name, Rose, engraved on the blade. Her parents ended up dying in a carriage accident when she was 10. Without her parents she didn’t know what to do- so she ended up roaming the streets and steeling food. One day a man named José finds her and takes her in. José works for Donella (the “evil” lady from 7 kingdoms). He doesn’t rlly live in a house, he has one of those carts that carries hay and stuff and he lives in that lol. So he and Ruby travel around basically doing fetch quests for people but occasionally get smuggling and stealing jobs from Donella. After a few years they end up breaking away from Donella and go off to do their own thing. One day they get a job in Corona, their jobs are like, bring these crates of strawberries to this store in a different city, or, take these sheep to this farmer, and stuff like that. They’re in Corona for a few days and hear about a teen (or at least that’s what the papers say) that’s in prison. (Ruby is around 15 here btw.) she and José don’t think that someone who they are told is Ruby’s age should be in the kingdoms dungeons. That doesn’t seem fair to them. So- Ruby decides to break him out. Ruby, José, and now an on the run Varian start traveling again and doing jobs and stuff. While they’re in the road again I think they would prolly see Rapunzel and co a few times- Not interact yet tho. I don’t remember exactly why (I’ll figure it out later lol) but Ruby, José, and Varian come back to Corona. They are approached by the Saporian separatists who ask Varian to build stuff for them, and they’d pay him both in money and a reversal to the amber solution (that they don’t have) in return. He takes the deal but doesn’t fully trust them. Mainly to get on their good side. Throughout him working with the Saporians, he and Ruby confirm that they are not gonna do good things with the stuff Varian’s making. The Saporians do still wipe the king and queen memories (with a stolen potion) and take control over Corona. Varian and Ruby make a plan to get out of the deal and hopefully free Corona from the Saporians control. The night before they put their plan into action, Varian is working on his side project, an actual reversal to the amber solution. An accident happens and Varian gets ambered. Ruby got woken up at some point and tries to help but ends up with a shattered her knife and a lotta guilt. (Imma write a fic for that at some point) Ruby (José went back on the road on his own and Ruby stayed in Corona with Varian) ends up going to the Dark Kingdom via stolen hot air balloon to find Rapunzel. So instead of Raps and co finding Ulf and Shorty that take them home- it’s a very traumatized and angry Ruby XD. She convinces them to come help her and brings them back to Corona. Taos uses the Decay incantation to unamber Varian and his father. (I actually came up with that point before I got to that ep- so I was shocked that I accidentally predicted it when I watched it XD ) the rest of season 3 happens like normal but smack my oc in there lol.

and that’s all I feel like writing for today! I have lore for vat7k- and I didn’t even mention bourbon!! 😭 he’s my friends oc- they meet when Ruby, José, and Varian are on the road and Bourbon and Ruby become friends. I’ll def write all sorts of lore detail head cannon stuff for them more often on here :3

#Sorry this was so long 😭#But then again u did ask-#So idk how sorry I can b #/lh #oc #lore #Oc lore #info dump #tts #tts oc #tangled the series #Crystal info dumps #< that’s the tag imma put my oc lore stuff under (if I remember lol)#Lore dump

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gemini-sensei · 1 year

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What about omega!LaRusso!Reader who is timid and shy and scared of most alphas. Omega!Sam is protective of her sister and let's her hide behind her all the time; she even scents her when she doesn't want alphas, or really anyone, to take notice of her. Reader just tries to blend into a big group to try and hide her own scent, unaware that it only works half of the time, if that much.

Alphas are just so big and scary. All the ones who've approached her tower over her and get in her personal space. They're musky and brash and loud. Their scents often overwhelm her as well as their aggressive attitudes. More often than not, after interacting with an alpha, she's on the verge of tears because they tries to flirt with her and she didn't reciprocate, which either made the situation that much more awkward for her or upset the alpha.

She's sweet. She doesn't want to upset anyone. Even though she didn't like that alpha and they scared her, she didn't want to hurt their feelings. It also doesn't help when they trigger her fight or flight instincts.

Most would assume her instinct is to flee, but actually it's punching and kicking. The LaRusso sisters are tough omegas when it comes to such things and Reader strictly uses her karate to kick a few unwanted alphas away. However, when she gives them busted lips, broken noses, and limp dicks, they're a little angry afterward. They learn she's a lot stronger than she looks. Many don't learn their lesson though, or some don't heed the warning to tred lightly when it comes to the shy, easily spooked omega.

Nothing seems to be able to change her attitude toward alphas. She's frightened by them and that seems to be it.

That is until she meets Hawk, or rather reacquaints herself with him. When he was rough and brash in Cobra Kai, she wanted nothing to do withnhim, but when he switches sides and starts making amends, she's more open to getting to know him. The entire dojo acts as a pack and she's a part of that, since she's Sam's sister and Daniel's daughter.

So when Hawk joins, he tries to get to know her. It's a little difficult at first because she's unsure about him, she's hesitant. But her worries melt away over time and he's one of the first alphas to get really close to her. He offers to scent her jacket so she doesn't have to deal with unwanted alphas and he brings her little gifts, but it's never anything too big. He says it's just leftover cookies his mom made or something he saw that he thought she might like. She thinks he's the sweetest alpha ever.

He definitely has some ulterior motives though. He's kind of, maybe been falling for the omega since he first met her.

They met in school way before he ever became Hawk, when he was still Eli. They were both too quiet to really say much to each other, never really making contact with each other aside from small waves and smiles in passing. She stayed close to her sister and friends and he stayed close to Demetri. It was never much, but he always kind of just admired her from afar.

Now that he's in Miyagi-Do, he can actually talk to her, hangout with her, really get to know her. He's always been attracted to her, but he really gets pulled in by her giggle and her sweetness. She's so cute. He keeps close to her and hopes he can someday build up the courage to ask her out.

In the meantime, he's trying to hide just how protective of her he is whilst evading people asking him too many questions. He knows she's been wary of alphas in the past and doesn't want to freak her out, so he wants to take it slow and ease into the more relationship-y things. He's waiting for the right time because he really wants to be Reader's friend first and hopefully her mate later.

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ask-a-meister · 8 months

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chopperpirate submitted to ask-a-meister:

Chopper found this city and the school he wandered into to be rather odd. The students were quirky from what he saw, and quite frankly, fun. A lot of their personality traits reminded Chopper of the numerous characteristics of his charming pirate crew. It helped to make the pain of being separated from his surrogate family a little less obvious. In fact, it made the stinging wound of isolation practically nonexistent in the presence of these students and teachers. He might just enroll here if possible. Of course, being an anthropomorphic reindeer did make him hesitant to approach the students of this establishment. He was roughly the size of a toddler, 90 cm (2'11½"), rather than being a human-sized beastman. This usually didn't endear him to others, but instead, made them think of him as a demonic abnormality. Of course, this place seemed less superstitious than his village. As the boy walked down the hallway, just as classes were ending for the day at this school, his hooves made a squeak with every step that connected with the ground. His scrawny arms and legs didn't seem that exhausted despite how weak they made him look, and how long he had wandered around the city up until that point. He made sure that his maroon pants were clean, as well as the small, blue backpack and pink fuzzy hat that he wore. The fur on his exposed torso didn't have much dirt on it, which was good to show that he was a little more civilized than a wild animal. Finally, Chopper spotted someone. An adorable blonde-haired girl with an almost perpetual looking smile on her face. How fortunate for him! She didn't seem much older than him, if at all, and something about the look of her blue eyes told Chopper that she was not going to be afraid of his abnormalities. With an excited grin on his own face, Chopper walked over to the girl, hoping that he had not come at an inconvenient time. Stopping in front of the blonde-haired weapon, Chopper lifted his head to make proper eye contact. Hopefully, the student was already aware of his presence, but due to her severe ADHD, that may not have been the case. In spite of Chopper's size, two things were likely to catch her attention. His bright blue nose and the brace on his left antler which held it together after a certain injury. Chopper's smile never faded as he reached his small hoof forward and placed it upon the hyperactive girl's knee, hoping she would look down at whatever touched her. "Excuse me~!" Chopper sang aloud, hoping to instantly warm her heart. He had a feeling that if he was happy, it might infect her own emotions with the same type of optimism.

Patty had been in the hallway for quite some time--all because Kid just had to arrive at school super early. Given how long it took him each morning to get into proper order, and given that he refused to come to class without both of his weapon partners, Patty and her sister Liz had the misfortune of having to accompany him just as the sun had risen.

But this morning, there was plenty of talk around campus to keep Patty busy, namely about an odd creature spotted in Death City. And what kept this talk going was that no one could quite agree on just what exactly they saw. Was it a bear cub? Some students thought what they saw was a short-ear rabbit. A few said it was a raccoon dog--which Patty noticed seemed to make her classmate Kim nervous.

Patty was now racking her brain, trying to figure out just what all of these people thought they saw, if they actually saw anything at all and weren’t just making it up, or weren’t high as a kite (in which case, Patty wanted to know who was dealing). All that the animals described had in common were a rather small size and a lot of fur--soft, soft, cuddly fur, Patty imagined, as she started to absently-mindedly pet the invisible air as if she was holding this unidentified creature.

“You worry me sometimes, Patty,” her older sister Liz said. She had been leaning against the lockers and just finished filing a nail, now checking it against her other fingers. “I’m going to go powder my nose, then we can head to class, alright?”

“Okay, Big Sis! Have a good poop!”

Liz grimaced before heading to the restroom.

Left alone with her thoughts, Patty started going through a mental rolodex of all the animals this new creature could be. “Aardvark? No, then it wouldn’t be able to read. Bonobo? Not hairy enough. Oh! I got it! Maybe it’s a--”

“Tap tap.” She heard something knock against her knee.

“Eh?” She looked left and right--before realizing to look down at her knee.

And that’s when she saw him.

Patty stared at Chopper. She studied him up and down, observing his features: “Antlers? Bright blue nose? Antlers? Hooves? Antlers? ANTLERS? ANTLERS?!!”

She hoisted Chopper up, lifting him over her head. “CARIBOU!” she shouted, her eyes bright, a huge smile stretching across her face. “CUUUUUUUTE!”

#chopperpirate #long post

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distant-velleity · 9 months

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Gift-Giving

Summary: Floyd gives Yu a gift. It does not go unnoticed. Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: none! :) A/N: Merry early Christmas, everyone... I present to you the longest fic I've written in the past few months and it's self-shipping nonsense. And it doesn't even take place around Christmas...💀💀 Welp. No beta, we die like men. Enjoy!

—

Like all things do, it starts with Floyd approaching Yu right before class.

—It’s a relatively quiet, warm morning that day as Yu heads to the alchemy lab, his freshly-washed lab coat folded and draped over one arm. He’s yet to run into any brawling students or scratched egos, or any disruptiveness in general. It’s a wonderful balm on his drained mind, and there have been no interruptions to this lovely morning yet.

Keyword: yet.

Yu is just thinking, Wow, this is really nice, when an all-too familiar voice sings out to him:

“Li’l Kooooiii~”

He looks back over his shoulder to see none other than Floyd approaching. The merman has forgone wearing his blazer entirely (both since it’s warm and because, right, doesn’t his class have Alchemy first today?) and is down to just his vest and shirt. For some reason, his arms are folded behind his back.

Yu squints at him suspiciously. “…Good morning, Floyd.”

“Mornin’,” Floyd replies happily, shoulders wiggling a little as his hands fidget behind him. “It’s nice and warm out today~ must be nice for all the little fishies.”

“Uh-huh. What do you have behind your back?”

Floyd blinks, as if he wasn’t actually expecting Yu to cut straight to the chase. “Eh? Well… Nothing… What’s up with you?” He shifts his weight from one leg to another.

“That’s… not what I…” Yu trails off. Something feels really off. “…okay, then.”

He wonders what it could be. Is it Floyd’s outfit? No, that sort of unorthodox fashion is pretty much par for the course. His posture and body language? Well, he does seem a little more nervous… but that’s probably not it. Is it?

“…Hey, Li’l Koi,” says Floyd all of a sudden, shifting his weight again. It looks a little like he’s chewing the inside of his cheek.

Yu tilts his head. “Yeah?”

“Close your eyes for a sec.”

“Uh…” There’s about two seconds in which he internally debates with himself before replying with an “okay” and closing his eyes.

With the world absent for a moment and his other senses heightened, Yu hears Floyd approach and his clothes rustle as he moves his arms. There’s a faint jingle—jewelry?—and then a little pinch through the neglected pierced hole in his ear. An… an earring, maybe?

“Done?” Yu asks when he feels like enough time has passed.

Floyd hums his affirmation with no small amount of satisfaction, so Yu takes that as a good sign and opens his eyes. The eel mer is beaming down at him, reaching out to hold Yu’s hair where he put on the presumed earring.

“Cool. Now, let’s get to class; I can’t be late as the TA, you know…” Yu frowns half-heartedly. “And there’s no need to play with my hair.”

It’s tempting to pout and complain more about it, since he was going to feel for himself what the thing was, but he supposes it’s not that big of a deal. It’s probably hidden by his hair, so no one will question it, hopefully. And then he can go back to his dorm later and check for himself in the mirror.

“Okay~” Floyd cheerfully replies, sounding even more bubbly and ecstatic than usual. He then proceeds to mess with Yu’s hair all the way to the lab, much to the TA’s exasperation.

—

People do, in fact, end up noticing.

—

1-B is the class that follows 2-D that day.

During a pause when the students have to wait for their potions to settle in the vials, Yu stands by Jack and Epel’s station. Between the two of them, their potion-making seems to be going along well and their sample is starting to resemble the textbook example, so he sees no harm in idly chatting with them.

That is, until—

“By the way…” Jack looks down at Yu. “Where’d that earring come from?”

“What earring?” It takes Yu an embarrassingly long few seconds to remember, and he reaches up to feel it. “Oh. Oh! Well—Floyd gave it to me this morning. I’d honestly forgotten I was wearing it, it feels so normal…”

Epel squints to notice it. “Wow, Jack, you noticed that? I can barely see it past his hair—...wait a minute.”

Jack seems to share the same sentiment as Epel, whatever it is, because his ears twitch straight upwards and he holds up a hand. “Back up for a second. Floyd gave it to you?”

“The temperamental, violent Floyd?” Epel adds.

Yu frowns a little. “Uhh… I don’t know any other guys named Floyd. And he was being super nice today, if a bit nervous. Is there something wrong with that?”

“Everything,” the two reply in unison without missing a beat.

“Aren’t you two prejudiced? It’s just an earring,” Yu says, crossing his arms. “I still don’t know why he just gave it to me all of a sudden, but I don’t think he’s the type to scheme for the long run, so it’s probably not anything meant to kill me or something.”

Epel furrows his brows. “Well—yeah…”

“Still, that’s kind of unexpected,” Jack remarks, ears relaxing somewhat. “Keep your guard up, okay? Since you don’t know what he intended with it.” When the other two give him a look, he huffs. “I’m just saying that so you don’t end up roped into a deal of some kind! It’s not like I’m that worried about you.”

Yu smirks, knowing better, but Crewel stands up and calls out instructions for the class to continue before he can respond properly.

—

“Thank you for letting me borrow the lab,” Chrysos says politely to Crewel as he walks in, shrugging on his lab coat.

Crewel huffs in approval, looking pleased at the freshman’s punctuality and neatness. “Good, hardworking boys should be rewarded for their performance in class. Just make sure to start cleaning up ten minutes before your free period ends. Now, I have business to attend to—I’ll leave you in here with Yu, he’ll lock up when you’re done.” With a billowing flourish of his coat, he steps out.

Yu finally looks over from the ingredient shelves then, spotting Chrysos and waving to him. “Yo. What are you making?”

“Nothing much.” Chrysos makes a beeline for the higher-level ingredients, only sparing Yu a passing glance on his way by. “Azul gave me a recipe I wanted… to try…” He trails off all of a sudden and whips his head back around to look at Yu.

“Is something wrong?” Yu asks, because he doesn’t think he’s committed any serious offenses against Octavinelle recently. He’s pretty sure, at least.

Chrysos doesn’t say anything, just steps closer to the TA and narrows his eyes. He then moves to get a look at him from the side, which is when his expression morphs into one vaguely resembling horror. “Wait. Don’t tell me…”

“What is it?”

But he goes ignored.

“No wonder his earring was missing a scale,” Chrysos mumbles to himself, almost completely inaudible. His usually flat tone is full of disbelief. “I didn’t think he’d ever settle down like that, but—or he could just be playing around—”

Yu waves a hand in his face. “Uh, Twisted Wonderland to Chrysos?”

“Ah—” Chrysos blinks, caught off-guard for once with his eyes wide, but quickly schools his expression back to its normal stoicness. “Forgive me. It’s just… that earring is new, isn’t it?”

“Oh, this?” Yu asks, reaching up to feel the dangling earring in question. “Yeah. Floyd gave it to me this morning.”

That must have been the wrong thing to say, because somehow Chrysos goes even paler than he already is. “I… see.” He steps back and returns to looking for ingredients, although there is an unmistakably conflicted aura about him.

Chrysos pointedly avoids making eye contact with Yu for the rest of the period.

—

After grabbing his lunch, Yu finds his usual table and sits down, ready to just eat up and not think for a while. The cafeteria is loud, as per usual, so he almost doesn’t notice his friends until they place down their trays and slide ungracefully into the seats across from him.

Deuce nods to him. “Hey.”

“What’s up, Yu?” Ace asks with his usual grin.

Yu daps him up from across the table out of habit. “Not much,” he replies, opting to not talk about the sore subject for Ace that is Chrysos. “How did your classes go today, you two? No fights?”

“No fights,” Deuce confirms proudly. “It’s been a good day so far.”

Ace raises an eyebrow at him. “For you? Yeah, right. Anyway—” Before an argument can start, he narrows his eyes at Yu to change the subject. “I saw it on the way here, but is that an earring you’re wearing? The locket is one thing, y’know, but I didn’t take you as a jewelry kind of person.”

“You’d be surprised,” says Yu dryly. “And you’re the third person to ask me about this today, excluding Crewel giving me the bombastic side-eye. Seriously—”

He’s cut off by Deuce leaning diagonally over the table to get a look. The card soldier purses his lips. “Hey, doesn’t that look kind of familiar to you? The design, I mean.”

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right,” Ace realizes, “Where’ve I seen that before…?”

The two squint and observe Yu for a few moments, creating a very awkward bubble of silence. Yu is tempted to reach over and clap in their faces. Instead, he just tries to say, “Guys—”

“It’s part of Floyd’s earring, isn’t it?” There’s a pause as Ace brings a hand to his chin. “Or Jade’s…”

“Stop fucking interrupting me,” Yu demands, reaching over and flicking Ace on the forehead. It elicits a disproportionately loud yelp. “Yeah, Floyd gave it to me. Now that I think about it, it does feel like a scale… Anyway, as I’ve said, you’re the third person to ask me about it today, and more than the third person I’ve had to explain it to, so calm down. Please.”

“He actually gave you something?” Deuce asks like he didn’t hear that last part to calm down, eyes wide. “Do you know why? Or if it’s, uh, cursed or anything?”

“He could also be trying to take advantage of you by making you owe him,” is Ace’s contribution. “If I were you, I wouldn’t wear it.”

Yu rolls his eyes. “You guys are just repeating what Jack and Epel said. I’m sure it’s fine, he was kind of nervous when he gave it to me, so I’m gonna assume it’s nothing actually harmful. If that makes sense. And, nothing has happened so far, so I’m gonna keep wearing it.”

“Yu…” Deuce looks at him with obvious concern in his eyes. “Are you really, actually sure? If you get into any trouble, you know you can call on us, right?”

“Yeah, what he said. Unless we have to actually fight Floyd…”

“Guys, seriously, it’s fine.” Seeing their faces, though, Yu hesitates. “...Fine, I’ll keep it in mind. But I’m still not taking this earring off just because you think it’s cursed or something.”

Ace snorts and starts digging into his food. “Worth a shot. I’m gonna get to say the most satisfying ‘I told you so’ of my life soon.”

Yu flicks him again. “In your dreams.”

—

The subtropical zone of the botanical garden is always unpleasantly humid. Yu rolls up his sleeves as he walks, looking around for the plants Crewel told him to collect for the next day’s classes.

It’s through pure luck alone that he manages to stop himself right before stepping on an unmistakable tail, spotting it stretched out onto the pathway from the grass. He stares down at it for a moment, two moments, and then looks over to where a nearby tree covers the grass in comfortable shade. And, of course, a certain someone is lounging in that very shade.

“Leona,” he mutters under his breath, carefully stepping over the lion’s tail. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”

The grass rustles beneath Leona as he sits up, grumbling to himself. “How’s that any of your business?”

“Because you’re here instead, leaving your tail on the path. Again.”

“You didn’t step on it, right?” Leona yawns, not even bothering to cover it with his hand. “I don’t see the problem then.”

Yu raises an eyebrow at him, before deciding that this is hardly worth his time. He turns away, about to go back to the task he came here to finish—

“Hold it. One of the eels gave you that earring, didn’t they?”

For fuck’s sake.

“No, I beat them up and took it by force,” is Yu’s sarcastic response. At Leona’s unimpressed look, he rolls his eyes. “Of course Floyd gave it to me.”

“And you’re not making a big deal of it?” Leona asks, something akin to amusement starting to seep into his voice.

Yu shakes his head. “Everyone else is. Am I supposed to?”

There’s a long pause in which Leona stares at him, grass-green eyes and slit feline pupils observing him from the shade. If looks could kill… Well, Yu wouldn’t be dead yet, but he doesn’t quite like the pressure that comes with being watched by this guy.

“You really don’t know, huh,” Leona comments finally, lips curling up into a smug smirk.

“No…?” Yu narrows his eyes at him. “Whatever happened to ‘minding one’s own business’?”

“Guess I won’t tell ya what it means, then. I’ll let that moody eel do it himself.”

“Wait—”

Leona lies back down, rolls over onto his side so his back is to Yu, and falls right back asleep. As if out of spite, he snores exceptionally loudly, like an unspoken middle finger.

—

After school, Yu is working on his homework in a corner of the lab—Crewel always insists that even someone in his position, a non-student at a secondary school, shouldn’t forget to study too—when the door opens. Azul and Jade peek in.

“Professor Crewel?” Azul calls out.

“Oh—” Yu sets down his pencil and stands up. “He’s not here right now, he’s getting something. Do you need something? Though, I thought neither of you have him until tomorrow…”

The two Octavinelle students turn to look at him.

As per usual, Yu and Azul lock eyes—however, rather than glance away as he normally does, Azul stares at the TA oddly for a few moments. Jade is equally silent, a hand brought up to his chin.

Yu tilts his head a bit. “Uh, guys…?”

Jade is the first to shake out of his stupor, mouth curling in a smile. “My apologies. It’s just, your earring…” He chuckles into his gloved hand, not mocking or pitying but a secret third thing.

Oh, right. Yu had almost forgotten about it once classes were dismissed and people stopped bothering him about it. Only for it to be noticed yet again, he thinks with no small amount of irritation and embarrassment. And by the two closest to Floyd, at that.

“It’s about time you two got on my case about it. So many people have asked me about it today,” Yu grumbles, sitting back down and self-consciously rubbing the singular scale attachment between his thumb and index finger. “Floyd gave it to me and didn’t elaborate.”

Azul, finally tethered to reality again, coughs into a fist. “Yes, well—that… was to be expected, he probably doesn’t feel like explaining himself yet. Though he meant no harm with that gift, I assure you.”

“Yes. Absolutely none at all,” Jade echoes, his smirk somehow growing. A little part of Yu dies inside when he notices the eel is totally getting a kick out of this situation. “In fact, I would argue it’s the complete opposite. You see, under the sea, we often give gifts to those whom we like—”

“That’s enough from you.” One of Azul’s hands not-so-subtly reaches up for Jade’s shoulder to steer him away while the other rubs at his temple. “Seriously, you and Floyd are both far too giddy about this… Anyway, thank you for your time, Yu,” he says, so politely it seems a little awkward. “If the professor isn’t here, I may as well ask him our question tomorrow. See you later.”

The two leave as abruptly as they popped in, Jade still chuckling when he walks out the door.

Just leaving me alone to process that? is all Yu can think, still reeling. Rude.

—

If any Octavinelle students have questions or concerns about the way that Yu storms into the Mostro Lounge, they know better than to voice them. Instead, they simply clear a path for him and go about their evening, quietly turning a blind eye to the way he marches right up to Floyd.

It’s answers he wants, and answers he intends to get.

“About those earrings,” Yu begins, “what did you—”

“Li’l Koi, you’re wearing your dorm uniform again!” Floyd cheers, shoving his serving trays onto some poor fool and lifting Yu up into the air by the waist. The TA, in a panic, has to grab onto Floyd’s shoulders to stabilize himself. “It looks really good with the gift I gave you, doesn’t it~?”

“Y—” There’s a moment where Yu almost tips over and he tenses up in a panic, noticing how far away he is from the ground, but he relaxes with the feeble hope that he won’t be suddenly dropped. “Yeah, I guess… The sturgeon scale does pair nicely with the patterns on my clothes… Ah, but that’s not the point.”

Floyd beams. “Uh-huh? Should I fight another merman and get you some different scales, then? Oh, but teeth would be way cooler…!”

“Uhh, not right now,” Yu answers, trying and failing to ignore the way Floyd lights up even more at not being straight-up rejected. “I, um, wanted to ask you about why you gave me the earring. It was a part of yours, right? One of the scales from when you got into that fight.”

“Yeah.” Tellingly, Floyd averts his gaze for just a moment too long. “It was ‘cause I wanted to. I just wanted to give something to ya.” The way he lamely finishes it suggests it’s definitely not the whole reason, and Floyd himself knows it.

“Yeah, but…”

Yu’s mouth feels dry; he knows what he wants to ask, sort of, but can’t bring himself to say it. Even though it’s just them around. Something he heard a while back pops into his mind—eels are cowards—and it sure shows with the way Floyd decided to go about this. If he even meant it like that.

It somehow feels like he’s the bigger coward, though—

Floyd gives Yu’s sides a gentle squeeze. “Stop thinking about it so hard,” he complains lightheartedly. “I’m gonna shower you with gifts, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Huh?” Heat floods Yu’s cheeks. “Wait, that won’t be necessary!”

“Too late! I’ve already made up my mind,” declares Floyd. “I wanna see you make more interesting faces like that, so be ready to accept a tooooon of gifts, ‘kay?”

“Oh—oh, okay,” Yu says quickly, as if speed will hide how flustered he is (it, in fact, does the exact opposite). Besides, receiving a lot of silly yet thoughtful gifts doesn’t exactly sound like a bad thing—

“Cool.” There’s an almost giddy energy to the way Floyd sets him down and then immediately takes his hand. Yu can actually feel him trembling a little from excitement. “I’ve got some stuff in my room I was saving up to give you, so let’s go.”

Yu blinks, and suddenly he’s being tugged along down the hall while trying to keep up with the pace of Floyd’s long legs. “Now? Wait, Floyd…!”

#kai's writing #twisted wonderland #twst #floyd leech #kai self ships #floyu <3 #twst oc #yuusona #the earrings i got inspired my irl to make a comic that is basically the first section of this #so lo and behold. i was inspired in turn #now dont mind me im taking a break from fic writing for the next few days /j #no bonus section at the end like i wanted cuz it was getting too long too :(#and i couldnt figure out how to properly end it... sigh #oh well #chrysos pendentif #i do not want to tag all these chars so i wont

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