#and when paired with Buck and his heavy rescue skills the two of them are quite a match | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darter-blue · 3 years

Text

Read it here on ao3

Or part one, two, three, four , five , six and seven on tumblr

Bucky

It’s a little like whiplash, one minute Bucky is in Steve’s arms, pressed against the elevator wall, getting his mind blown by Steve’s giant hands on his bare skin and his giant dick rutting into Bucky’s, hips rocking into Bucky’s, and the next minute there’s a crash and Steve is gripping Bucky tight and shielding him with his body.

Bucky could be mistaken, he is a little hungover, but it looks like Iron Man has just landed on the roof of their elevator. Presumably to save them from the terror of being trapped at the very high height between the first and second floor.

Except Iron Man - Tony Stark, even Bucky knows who Tony Stark is - is looking at them both with a very pleased expression and seems to be leering in at them through the service cover.

'Well well well,' Stark says, shaking his head, 'I leave you alone for five minutes.'

Bucky may be having a hullicinatory episode.

‘Tony, I mean,’ Steve looks down at Bucky, at the pink ‘groom’ t-shirt and the ring on his finger - down at his own much smaller, matching blue ‘Elvis said we do!’ t-shirt - and then back up at the superhero peering in at them. He steps back and carefully lowers Bucky to a standing position, but keeps one giant hand on his waist. ‘I guess this is actually exactly what it looks like.’

‘Oh I know,’ Stark says, boosting himself up by his rockets (wowowow, Bucky is four feet from the most advanced piece of mechanical engineering in the United States right now) and hovering through the hole and into the elevator, ‘it’s all over twitter, genius.’

‘Oh shit,’ Bucky says, ripping the phone he had put on silent (because fucking Darcy would not stop texting him) and sees way too many missed calls from his sister. One from his mother.

The texts from Darcy are still rolling in.

‘Twitter? You flew all the way here because a bunch of people twittered about this?’ Steve’s voice had dropped to a tone that Bucky doesn’t recognise but oh, he likes it.

‘Tweeted,’ Stark says, shaking his head.

Steve narrows his eyes, and the sweet open face that Bucky has been staring at all morning suddenly morphs into something much more menacing.

If Bucky hadn’t just come in his pants he'd be in trouble - as it is he can feel his heart rate picking up again at the effortless authority Steve is exuding. Okay fuck, now that’s he’s thinking about it, his dick is perking up and no, no, no. This is not the time.

Please do not let this situation get any more weird than it already is.

‘Tony, what are you doing here?’

Iron Man - looming huge in his suit in the tiny elevator - takes a small step back from Steve, and doesn’t seem confident when he answers, ‘Rescuing you?’

‘From what?’ Steve asks, ice cold.

‘From being stuck in a broken elevator?’

‘Bullshit,’ Steve says, less cold, more heat this time.

‘Uh, okay, look, full disclosure, I flew here in the quinjet to make sure that Thor hadn’t addled your brain with his god juice and left you to get yourself vegas married to a gold digger,’ he looks over at Bucky, whom Steve tightens his grip on, moving his body further between Stark and Bucky with zero subtlety, ‘seems like I maybe underestimated how literally you would take my advice to do something crazy.’

Steve is shaking his head in a sharp, hard, definitive no.

Bucky is letting him do all the talking, having a… not a great memory of what had gone down the night before (flashes of images, feelings, sounds. An overwhelming sense of comfort and happiness. Contentment… but no real basis from which those emotions have stemmed) and also this is Tony Stark, Iron Man… and Bucky isn't really sure what to do with that.

Just staying out of it seems like the wisest course.

Steve, in lieu of using his words, chooses to reach past Bucky and depress the emergency button.

‘Woah, hey!’ Stark says, grabbing at the wall as the elevator starts to move.

‘Don’t you have something rich and important you should be doing, Tony.’

‘Okay, I’m getting the impression that you’re not that happy to see me.’

‘Gee, you have some real keen observational skills,’ Steve snaps.

‘Look-’

‘With all due respect, Mister Stark-’ Bucky starts.

‘Mister Stark was my father kid,’;

‘Mister Iron Man,’ Bucky says, heavy on the sarcasm, ‘This has nothing to do with you.’

‘Listen Kid,’

‘Bucky,’ Steve corrects him.

‘Bucky?’

Bucky doesn’t bother to nod, he lets Steve’s glare do his talking.

‘That’s a name?’ Stark’s lip is raised in a grimace.

‘It’s a great name,’ Steve has his shoulders squared and his Jaw lifted and he looks suddenly one hundred percent a man not to be questioned.

Bucky can’t help the smile spreading across his face. Doesn’t even want to.

‘Steve, you can’t be serious about this.’

The elevator comes to a stop on their floor and Steve’s grip on Bucky loosens as the doors open.

‘Excuse us, Tony.’

‘Steven Grant Rogers you are trending. There’s photos of you in this ridiculous T-Shirt all over the internet. We need to do damage control!’

‘What’s wrong with his T-shirt?’ Bucky asks, hands on his hips as he lets Steve lead him out of the elevator with a gently hand on his lower back. ‘Are you being self righteous about Elvis, or about the fact that Steve married a guy?’

‘Hey now,’ Stark says from the elevator, ‘I’m mad that he didn’t know you yesterday and today you’ve got matching rings on your fingers.’

‘And?’

‘And that's… Not normal!’

Both Steve and Bucky turn around at Stark’s words.

‘When, Tony, in your entire life, have you ever aspired to be normal?’ Steve asks, standing to Bucky’s right and crossing his lovely arms over his very large chest.

Tony Stark has his mouth halfway open, his eyebrows pinching into a ‘v’ over his narrowed eyes, standing in the doorway of the elevator as the doors move in and out like a concertina at the obstruction.

‘Am I a grown man, Tony?’ Steve asks.

Stark rolls his eyes at the question.

‘Have I ever once interrupted you or questioned your life choices in the middle of a romantic interlude.’

‘Interlude? Steve, come on.’

‘Have. I. Ever?’

‘Okay, no-’

Bucky’s phone rings for the thousandth time - his mother again - and, as fascinating as it is to watch Tony Stark get his ass handed to him by a man that might really actually be Bucky’s husband - his husband - they probably do need to take a step into reality for a second.

‘Steve?’ he says, interrupting the argument and drawing both sets of eyes his way, ‘I think maybe we need to, maybe have a quick chat and ah… make some decisions?’

Steve’s face freezes, then smoothes out to as close an approximation to expressionless as Bucky has seen it all morning.

It looks wrong. It looks… like a mask.

Steve nods his head slowly, his shoulders creeping up before he forces them back down, taking a deep breath.

Stark starts talking before Steve can say a word, ‘I think that’s wise, Kid, I have some questions-’

‘Not you,’ Bucky says, shaking his head at Stark, ‘If we need you, we’ll call you, Mister Iron Man.’

Stark lifts a finger to point it at Bucky, his suit suddenly receding like magic and shrinking into a cuff on his wrist, ‘Listen-’

‘Give us some time please, Tony.’

Stark looks between Steve and Bucky and back again. He narrows his eyes at Steve and then nods once. ‘Okay. You have ten minutes.’

Steve glares at Stark again but doesn't protest. He turns away and leads Bucky the few steps back to his room and opens the door for him.

‘Should we… did you want to sit? Or…?’

‘We can sit,’ Bucky says, sinking down into the couch in the lounge area of the suite.

‘Are you… can I…’ Steve looks so lost as he takes a seat next to Bucky, mirroring Bucky’s slight angle, their knees facing towards each other.

‘I want to ask you something,’ Bucky says, palms on his thighs, swallowing awkwardly. Wishing he had a clean pair of pants to change into.

Steve just nods, his mask slipping further and further away as his face pales and he shrinks into himself.

‘How much of this is real?’

Steve’s face cracks, he winces, something like pain, and it cuts into Bucky. Slices at him. He doesn't know this man - at least… he doesn’t remember why he knows him, or how he knows him, but the pain on Steve’s face reaches in and pulls at something in Bucky and it hurts.

‘For me?’ Steve asks.

Bucky isn’t sure that’s what he was asking, but he nods, because he wants to know the answer regardless.

‘All of it,’ Steve whispers.

Bucky has to take a deep breath. Has to steal himself.

‘I want… I want it to be real for me too.’

Steve’s eyes snap up to Bucky’s.

‘I mean, it feels real.’ Bucky twists at the ring in his finger. Feels the texture of the metal, solid against his skin.

Real.

‘It feels like… not a mistake,’ Bucky says.

He’s trying and maybe failing to explain this right. But whatever he’s doing, it might be working, because Steve is staring at him, not breathing, not moving, but there’s colour back in his cheeks, and he starts leaning slowly closer and closer as Bucky continues.

‘I woke up and thought, you know, maybe I’d just gotten lucky enough to spend a night with the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life... and then,’ Bucky looks back down at his ring, ‘and then I saw this, and I thought… fuck. I thought I’d won the lottery maybe, or somehow dreamt my fantasies into reality. And you…’ Bucky looks back up at Steve and his eyes… His eyes are so cool and blue and limitless. Everything Bucky ever needed or wanted is reflected there back at him. ‘You feel like home to me.’

‘You feel like home to me too, Buck.’

‘And you… you want to stay married to me?’

Steve nods.

‘Even if it turns out I’m a complete disaster?’

‘Especially then’ Steve says, a smile spreading across his face, reaching his eyes, crinkling them at the corners.

‘No, I’m serious, I’m awful.’

Steve shakes his head and Bucky nods, emphatic.

‘No, listen, I’m a mess. My refrigerator is full of cheap beer and canned cheese, and one jar of twenty year old mayo.’

Steve is laughing but Bucky won’t have it, he needs Steve to understand the total dumpster fire that he has unwittingly attached himself to.

‘No, Steve, my bed is so covered in bike parts right now I’m sleeping on the floor.’

‘I sleep on the floor every night, Bucky.’ Steve has reached out and stopped Bucky’s hands flying through the air, is holding them, bringing them to rest against their knees between them.

‘You do?’

‘I do,’ Steve says, fond and sad all at once, ‘first time I’ve slept in a long time was here with you last night.’ He looks over at the rumpled sheets on the bed, the bed where Bucky and Steve woke up wrapped around each other.

It hits Bucky that, if they’re married, are they supposed to move in together? Where would they even live?

‘I live above my shop, Steve,’ Bucky says, panic making his voice squeak.

‘It’s not a problem, Bucky, we don’t have to work everything out all at once.’

‘But I… It’s like two rooms and a toilet.’

‘My apartment is just an empty space Shield gave me to live in because I had nowhere else to go.’

Bucky’s body is moving before his brain even realises. ‘Baby, no,’ he says, pulling one of his hands free and reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek, ‘your apartment is a shitty walk up over a bike mechanic with no space and the kitchen from hell.’ He runs his thumb over Steve’s perfect cheekbone. ‘We just need to move your stuff in.’

‘I’m a terrible cook anyway,’ Steve says, huffing a laugh.

‘See?’ Bucky says with an exaggerated sigh, leaning his head in to rest against Steve’s forehead, ‘it’s meant to be.’

‘I know you’re joking, but I honestly believe that.’

‘Who says I’m joking?’ Bucky smiles as Steve laughs. ‘So what do we need to do to get all this finalised? I’m gonna need to call my mother back at some stage.’

That snaps Steve into action, he sits up straight and pulls Bucky with him, so that Bucky is almost sitting in his lap.

‘We need to get the paperwork off Mavis, we need to get our stuff, and then I guess we need to figure out whether the license is even legal outside of the state of Nevada.’

‘Well,’ Bucky says, moving himself fully into Steve’s lap and swinging a leg over to straddle him, ‘I can think of one way to make it legal.’

‘You don’t have time for that!’ Stark yells from outside the door.

‘Goddamn it Tony!’ Steve yells back.

Bucky is laughing, he can’t help it. And Steve is laughing with him. Bucky’s head falls onto Steve’s shoulder and Steve rests his palm against the nape of Bucky’s neck. Safe and familiar and blanketing him in warmth. It feels like the kind of comfort that Bucky has spent his whole life searching for.

‘We better go.’

Bucky nods his head as much as the limited space will allow. They both pull away slowly, reluctantly. But they’re smiling now. The air around them is full of promise.

Happiness.

Even Tony Stark and his ugly tracksuit and his disapproving glare can’t dampen it.

‘Where now?’

‘To the chapel,’ Steve says, pulling Bucky along by the hand and smiling ridiculously wide.

‘To file for annulment?’

‘No Tony.’

‘To pick up the wedding album,’ Bucky says with a laugh. He’s not even sure where the thought came from, but it’s vivid, a hot pink vinyl album cover, Bucky can see it. It has to be a memory.

Steve is looking back at him and smiling, somehow, impossibly wider.

‘Jesus Christ on a cracker,’ Stark says, rolling his eyes, feet shuffling to keep up with them.

They all ride down the elevator together, Steve and Bucky practically glued at the hip and Stark shaking his head at them the entire way.

It’s objectively hilarious. Bucky is holding back his laughter, but the smirk is surely stuck fast to his face.

They make it to the Casino floor, wind their way through the mostly empty gaming rooms and dance floors to a familiar set of swinging doors under a garish ‘Wedding Chapel’ sign, where a strangely familiar man is leaning against the wall only to jump up and shout as he sees them approach.

'Cap!'

'Scott,' Steve replies, much more subdued.

'Hey, Bucky,' he says, looking Bucky's way, then doing a double take as he spots Tony Stark. 'Hey! Iron Man!'

'Who is this?' Stark asks, turning to Steve, 'Steven, who is this?'

'Hey, I'm Scott,' Scott says, reaching out a hand for Stark to shake, then pulling back with a shrug when Stark makes no move to accept it.

'Scott was our best man, Tony,' Steve says, smug and smiling.

Scott looks a little like he might faint at the title, but he pulls it together, nodding along like an excited puppy.

'Oh, Bucky, I sent you the video like you asked. And then I saw all the internet stuff this morning and I thought, well I just thought, you know… did you guys need anything? A getaway van? I don't know. I know a guy, you know?'

'We're okay,' Steve says, calm and relaxed in the face of Scott's exuberance. But Bucky’s too busy checking his phone to hear anymore.

A video.

Of the wedding.

He finds the text from Scott (whose contact info he must have entered as ‘Scott - Cap?’ last night). Opens the video file and watches it like a starving man staring through the windows of a restaurant as the images load and it starts to play.

He can feel Stark leaning over his shoulder but he doesn't care.

It's there. In colour.

Steve and Bucky, at the altar. Elvis between them, Scott filming from the side, a woman Bucky recognises - Mavis, his brain helpfully supplies - beautiful blonde beehive and rockabilly skirt and everyone is smiling. Laughing.

And Bucky remembers.

He remembers standing there next to Steve. Remembers reading his vows from a tiny scrap of pink paper, remembers Steve saying Bucky was his fate, sliding the ring onto his finger.

Bucky looks down at it now, touches it reverently. 'For we are but two halves,' he says, remembering the inscription, the way it had felt so perfect. He looks back up at Steve, who is watching Bucky, waiting for something, eyes shining. 'Together whole.'

And Steve crashes into him, clutches at Bucky, pulling him close and pressing their lips together.

'You remember,' he says between kisses, running his nose against Bucky’s nose, cupping his face in his hands, 'You remember.'

And Bucky just clutches him back. Kisses him back. Just as desperate, just as joyful. 'I remember everything, Steve-Steve Rogers.' He presses his hands against Steve’s chest. Against the beat of his heart. The most beautiful part of him. 'We danced together. We've been dancing together from the very beginning.'

'Always,' Steve says. Oblivious to their audience, to Scott's squeals and Stark's scoffs.

To the crowd gathering around them.

'Forever.' Bucky whispers it. Barely a word. But he knows Steve can hear it. Knows it will thrill him.

Means it, as crazy as that seems.

They both do.

And they have the rest of their lives to make it the truth.

#steve x bucky #stucky #shrunkyclunks #fluff #bucky barnes #modern bucky #captain america steve rogers #my writing #accidental husbands

98 notes · View notes

reyescarlos · 4 years

Text

we found each other in the dark

chapter 3/4: heavy in your arms; word count: 6.6k || read on ao3

And is it worth the wait? All this killing time? Are you strong enough to stand Protecting both your heart and mine?

Eddie expected to have an eventful first day at the 118 but he couldn’t have possibly imagined the night would end like this.

Bobby had told him this morning that each shift was like playing Russian roulette. Some calls were minor, scenarios that the team could get through quickly enough without anyone’s life hanging in the balance. But the flip side to that were high stakes moments where one bad decision could mean death.

Eddie was used to working under pressure. He was certain that nothing could be more daunting than trying to save someone’s life and maintain his own while in the middle of a war zone. By comparison, the streets of L.A. would be milder, easier to tame, he figured. So, to find himself now staring down at a 40 mike-mike is startling, bringing his mind back to his tours in Afghanistan. How crazy, he thinks, that he would leave the military behind only to be faced with the weaponry in his civilian life. It’s a lucky thing, Eddie supposes, that he’s here for this now. He has a particular skill set that can very well save this man’s life.

Bobby calls it in to the hospital as they wheel the gentleman across the lawn and get him loaded up into the back of the ambulance.

“We have a 65-year old male with large shrapnel in his right thigh. Femoral artery damage…”

It’s hard not to get caught up in the belief of destiny when this is the kind of call he responds to on his first day with the team.

The gentleman, Charlie, is essentially a ticking time bomb and as he speaks his fears of dying tonight aloud, Eddie is grateful to have Buck with him now. As he gets the drip set up, Buck is there to settle the older man down, assuring him that he’s going to survive the night. Buck glances to Eddie and in his eyes, he sees Buck’s confidence in him. Eddie isn’t expecting such faith from the man seeing as though they’ve only just met but it feels good, he won’t deny, to have someone believe in his capabilities.

More often than not Eddie feels as if he’s stumbling through his life just hoping for something to stick but situations like this are ones he tends to thrive in. The irony doesn’t escape him. Day-to-day life is a challenge. Matters of life and death bring out his sense of calm.

Eddie assesses the damage, quickly working through the best course of action. Charlie’s words slur and soon he’s under, giving Eddie and Buck the chance to work in absolute silence.

“Tell me what you need me to do,” is all Buck says as he settles in beside Eddie, looking to him expectantly.

Buck takes a backseat and follows Eddie’s instructions to the letter, clearly realizing that even though he’s been with the LAFD for however long, it’s Eddie’s experience as a military medic that can decide the fate of this man. It’s quite the test for them to have on their first day but Eddie is relieved to see they’re able to meet the challenge head on and work so well with one another.

Buck is good at reading the terrain and anticipating what he’ll need next, an invaluable skill to have in a partner, Eddie notes.

Eddie can feel Buck’s eyes boring a hole into him as he tries not to disturb the grenade too much. One false move and all three of them won’t make it. With clear knowledge and practiced hands, Eddie works carefully as he extracts the grenade from the man’s leg, with Buck continuing to keep pressure against area to prevent Charlie from bleeding out. Eddie has been through much worse, much more intense situations than this controlled environment but this scenario is still grave. He feels confident, however, in his element somehow and that clears his mind enough to successfully dislodge the grenade.

“Get that box open,” he says, though Buck is unsurprisingly already flipping open the lid beside him. They’re still not in the clear yet but the second he hears the contact of metal against metal, Eddie can’t help but to let out a shaky breath of relief.

Buck is beaming at him, a mix of wonder and disbelief on his sweaty face.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Buck says.

“I can’t believe you’re still holding that thing and we’re still in here. Let’s go.”

Buck’s laugh is hearty and Eddie feels the timbre of it somewhere in the pit of his stomach, along with a strange tug of some kind. Eddie chalks it up to adrenaline and opens the door to the ambulance to make the hand off to the bomb squad.

“Hell of a first day, huh?” Buck notes as the ambulance pulls away, that playful smile on his lips again.

It’s growing on Eddie already, the way Buck acts as if the two are co-conspirators who share some kind of secret. It manages to draw him in and make him feel included in something even though this is all still so new. It’s been far too long since Eddie’s felt close to anyone, or even felt the inclination to let someone in. He’s used to keeping the world at an arm’s length but in just one day, Buck has managed to ease past those walls he’s been putting up. If he’s to keep to his objective for life in L.A., Eddie knows he has to do things differently this time around.

If that means forming a friendship with new his co-worker, he supposes it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to open himself up a bit more. The purpose of his move was to start over, to reinvent himself and grow. Eddie liked the idea of creating a new kind of family for himself. Judging by this trial by fire experience, Buck seems like the perfect starting point.

“Good work you two,” Bobby compliments as the pair take off the vests given to them by the bomb squad.

Eddie looks over at Buck and smiles. “He can have my back any day. I couldn’t have asked for a better a partner in there.”

It’s the honest truth. From their calls earlier, Eddie had gotten the distinct impression that Buck thrived off the high of rescuing people, of the danger in this profession. But when it came time to dial back and let someone take control of the wheel, he’d done so without question. They strike the perfect chord with each other and for Eddie, that bodes extremely well. Good chemistry was hard to come by but for them it’s organic. It feels like it’s been a lifetime since Eddie’s instinctively clicked with someone to this degree.

He supposes maybe this feeling is due largely in part to the fact that their kinship was just forged by fire. But if there were ever a measurement by which to set such a thing to, Eddie feels safe in saying this experience would bond them for a long time to come.

Buck smiles back at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Or, maybe, you could have mine,” he counters. He gives Eddie’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Welcome to the 118. We’re damn lucky to have you.”

But Eddie hears a different set of words behind the ones Buck has just uttered.

Welcome to the family. This is where you belong.

~*~*~

As they hang around the loft between calls, Buck and Eddie settle around the table grabbing a quick bite. Eddie takes his phone out of his back pocket and sets it on the table. The screen comes to life and Buck’s eyes immediately take notice of Eddie’s lock screen. The image is of Eddie with a young boy, their cheeks pressed tightly together to fit into the frame. He doesn’t mean to be nosy but that’s a hard thing to miss.

Eddie notices, his expression soft as he looks at his phone.

“That’s Christopher,” he says. “My son.”

Buck sits up at this bit of information. Of all the things he’s been trying to imagine about Eddie, he hadn’t expected him to be a dad. Eddie unlocks his phone and pulls up a new photo and hands it to over to him.

Buck takes the phone, his smile almost as bright as Christopher’s in the photo. Chris has got a big grin on his face as he stands with the Ferris wheel at the pier in the background on a cloudless, sunny day.

“He’s ridiculously cute. How do you keep from spoiling him rotten?” Buck laughs, grinning at the photo for a beat longer before looking up at Eddie. “How old is he?”

“Just about nine actually. I can’t believe the years have been going by so quickly.”

Buck sucks in a breath. He’s been haunted by that precise length of time. It’s too coincidental not to mean what he thinks it does. Buck has been allowing himself to dive in slowly to the idea of claiming Eddie as his soulmate. Between the rush he felt when they first met to how natural they are with each other to this discovery that nine years ago Eddie had created a family supports his budding theory. This would explain perfectly why nine years ago he stopped getting updates to his marking.

It’s all matching up perfectly into place like a key in a lock. Buck just wonders what’s waiting on the other side of the door for him when he eventually pushes on it.

“Nine? That’s a fun age, right before the double digits kick in. Kids are such a blast,” Buck says, sitting back in his seat and handing Eddie back his phone.

“You like kids?”

“Oh, I love them. They’re way cooler than adults, that’s for sure. I like how they see the world, you know? They’re just taking it all in and learning about things for the first time. It’s awesome. Plus, they’re hilarious and rarely ever have a filter. You’ve got to respect that kind of honesty.”

Eddie smiles at him and Buck can’t help but to think his response passes some kind of test. Eddie looks satisfied with his answer, setting his phone back down and picking up his fork again, spearing a piece of fruit on the prongs.

“Judging by that picture I’m guessing he’s liking Cali a lot, huh?”

Eddie laughs. “You could say that again. He barely even mentions Texas. All he wants to do is explore the city. It’s been great for us, the move. I still have a few loose ends to tie up though.”

Buck raises a brow. He doesn’t want to push the matter too much but the statement intrigues him a bit.

“I’ve almost got his school situation figured out. I had a meeting a few days ago with the school coordinator but...,” he trails off, looking away. Buck isn’t sure he’s going to continue until he clears his throat and speaks. “They need to speak with Chris’ mom first. She has an interview with them tomorrow. If that goes smoothly, he should be enrolling with them.”

Buck shifts in his seat, his head erupting with questions about Chris’ mother. Whether they’re still together is the most pressing of them all. From Eddie’s tone and hesitancy, Buck can tell they aren’t on the best of terms. Eddie called her Chris’ mom, not his wife or partner. It’s a stretch but Buck is flexible enough to make it work.

“I haven’t seen her since the divorce but this is important. I really want Chris to get into this school. It’s perfect for him.”

Buck’s thoughts are split evenly in two, torn between the sheer relief in he feels in hearing Eddie isn’t married anymore and the concern he feels in seeing how worked up Eddie is over Christopher’s schooling.

“I’m sure her talk will go well. I know there’s a lot riding on this but she has to know that too and I’m sure she’ll crush the interview because of it.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, his brown eyes meeting with his blue. Land and sea, Buck thinks, two components that make up a world.

“Thank you,” Eddie says simply but Buck feels the full weight of it.

“Anytime.”

~*~*~

Eddie’s fingertips drum an uneven beat against his knee as he waits for Shannon to show up. It’s ridiculous, he’s well aware, to feel this antsy over seeing a woman he’s known for almost half his life. But these last nine years, their relationship had risen and fallen like a heavy breath. Now that it was out of both their systems, Eddie isn’t sure how to function around her.

He keeps an eye out for her and rises awkwardly off the park bench as she approaches. He waves at her, trying to gauge what kind of mood she’s in from a distance. She’s got on a flowing yellow dress that makes her look like sunshine. Her smile is just as warm too.

Eddie relaxes at the sight of that and takes it as reassurance that this talk will go well. It’s strange seeing her now. She looks different to him and Eddie has to wonder if she sees changes in him too.

“How’d it go over at the school?” he asks as they both sit down.

Shannon sits back and stretches her legs out, letting them cross at the ankles.

“Pretty well. They seem excited to have Chris enroll. You picked out a great school for him.”

Eddie takes the compliment with a simple nod and a quiet word of thanks.

“How…how is he? Is Chris liking it out here?” she asks tentatively, dipping a toe into uncertain waters.

Eddie unclenches his jaw and nods. She’s making an effort and Eddie knows this can’t be easy for her, to be sidelined in her own child’s life. Even though she had made the decision to take time to find herself, Eddie can see that it’s taking its toll on her to be away from their son. He can extend a kindness, an olive branch of some kind by way of decent conversation.

“He loves it so much. I think he wants to live at the pier,” he muses. He’s taken Chris down a few times now just to watch the waves and enjoy the beautiful weather. “He’s doing really well here and honestly, it’s a relief,” he sighs.

When he’d told his family he was leaving, they’d gotten into his head a bit that uprooting Christopher from Texas could have a damaging impact on his son. But he knew better than they did about Chris’ resiliency and adaptability. Chris was the kind of person who could make himself comfortable anywhere. It was a trait Eddie prayed his son would never lose. He knew all too well what it felt like to struggle for a bit of semblance. Luckily, Chris didn’t seem to have that problem.

Shannon stays quiet and Eddie desperately wishes he could open up her mind and see the thoughts that live there. There’s an unnamed tension between them, an awkwardness that Eddie doesn’t know how to get around. He supposes, with their history, it makes sense but he wants better for them both.

He decides to switch gears. If they’re really going to have a clear road ahead, he needs to do whatever he can to show Shannon that they’re on solid ground now. It’s exhausting constantly being at odds with her. Now that they’re divorced and no longer confined to the box they’d shoved themselves into, they both have room to breathe and grow. Hadn’t that always been a wish he had for them? For the two to mend the bridge that had given way years ago? They are in a different place now and Eddie knows he has to adjust his outlook accordingly.

“I don’t want us to be angry or upset with each other anymore. I want us to…I don’t know, be better to one another than we have been in the past. I don’t think I can carry those feelings inside me anymore. It’s draining and I don’t have the energy for it. I never really did.”

This seems to be the right set of words because Shannon blinks back tears and smiles at him.

“I would love that.”

Eddie sighs in relief and this time the quiet that settles between them is comfortable.

“Can I ask you something kind of ridiculous and personal?” Shannon says, tucking one of her legs under her, fanning out her dress over her legs smoothly.

“Should I be afraid?”

She laughs and it feels good to be able to joke around with her again. These are tentative steps but it feels reassuring to think he could be on his way to getting his old friend back.

“Eh, it could go either way.” She pauses for a beat before continuing. “Have you met Eva yet? I’ve been thinking a lot about your move and imagining you finding her out here.”

Eddie thinks it says a lot about where their relationship left off that Shannon is so casual in discussing him with another woman, a soulmate at that. It’d been awkward for the both of them seeing the makings of names on each other that weren’t theirs. They’d never talked about it explicitly but Eddie figured it was just as strange for her to wrap her mind around as it had been for him during their nine years together.

“Actually, it’s Evan not Eva,” he drawls, trying to get used to the taste of the name on his tongue. His heart is racing with the confession. How much will this change the way she sees him?

Eddie doesn’t even look at her. He fumbles with his watch and takes it off, showing her the soulmate marking. They both stare in silence at his wrist. It had been a complete shock to his system when it appeared so he can’t blame her for being stunned over the news.

“Wow. Wow, that’s…I don’t have any other word,” she laughs.

Eddie turns to look at her then. She looks surprised, of course, but happy. Eddie’s brows furrow.

“Where’d you meet him?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” he says, flipping the inside of his wrist back over, pressing it against his thigh. “I’ve been trying to figure it out. I think he’s someone I bumped into outside of a coffee shop but I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since. I didn’t even see his face that day, actually.”

Shannon’s smile turns into a frown at this.

“Oh, Eddie. I’m sorry.” He can tell she really means it. “But at least you know he’s out there. Whenever you do find him, don’t let go.”

Eddie searches her face for a moment, looking into her eyes and for a fleeting moment his mind drifts to a different set of blue eyes, ones that he’s grown so accustomed to in the short time he’s been working at the 118. It’s a startling thought that seems to come from nowhere. Eddie does his best to cast it aside. Buck isn’t where his thoughts should be right now, despite the fact that the other man has been on his mind more and more as of late.

Shannon takes him in as well before she continues to speak.

“I know you, Eddie. I know you’re probably scared over the fact that this is actually happening for you. But please remember you deserve to be happy. Despite everything we’ve been through, or maybe because of it, all I want is for you to be able to let the right love in. Evan is your soulmate, whether you’re ready for it or not. When you meet for real, don’t run from it, please.”

It isn’t lost on Eddie that this is the second person in a little over a week to tell him not to be afraid of his destiny. The women in his life know him better than anyone else. There’s no hiding from his grandmother who always had a knack for understanding him since he was a child. And Shannon had cultivated a life with him. Eddie couldn’t avoid being known by either of them. He could hide and keep himself from the rest of the world but these two were in the rare category that could see through it all to the heart of him each and every time.

Eddie wipes at his eye and laughs nervously. “I don’t know if I’ll be good for him. I’m kind of still figuring things out these days.”

Shannon reaches out a hand and holds onto his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s sort of the point of a soulmate though, isn’t it?” she says, peering at him, lifting a brow knowingly. “To love you unconditionally, no matter what kind of state you’re in?”

Eddie can’t refute this argument. He had always liked the idea of being able to turn to someone at the end of the day and speak openly about what he was feeling. He was able to do that with Shannon at times during their marriage, of course, but the tension between them made it hard for Eddie to cross the divide that lived with them sometimes. He imagined being with a soulmate would be the exact opposite, that even if they were upset with each other they’d still be a harbor for one another.

“I hate it when you’re right,” he jokes.

“You poor thing. Then you must be upset all the time,” she quips.

Eddie laughs, a real sense of elation he hasn’t had around her in some time solidifying in his chest. They still have a way to go but this first step was a crucial one and Eddie feels as if they’re finally moving in the right direction together.

~*~*~

Days like today have quickly become Buck’s least favorite. He knows he can’t expect to work every shift with Eddie but still, the times when they aren’t together begin to grate at him. He feels selfish for how badly he craves Eddie’s time and attention but he can’t help it. Soulmate or not, he’s genuinely been enjoying getting to know his new co-worker. The two have found an easy rhythm with each other since Eddie’s first day. Buck supposes nothing bonds two people together faster than saving the life of someone else.

With Eddie out for the day, Buck feels restless.

“Aww, is someone missing their new best friend?” Chimney teases as Buck flops back against the sofa in the loft. “Look at that pout, Hen. We can go diving off that lower lip.”

Buck tosses a cushion at him as Hen laughs at the two of them. Chimney lobs it back and jokingly flips him off, revealing his soulmate marking on his middle finger, the word Mad branded there. He thinks it’s the height of comedy. Buck has to agree it is pretty hilarious.

Hen nestles in beside him and pats the top of his head.

“Come on now. Buck up, Buck,” she muses. Chimney reaches over to give her a high five and Buck rolls his eyes playfully.

“A couple of comedians here.” He rises from his seat, ignoring their outcry for him to come back. They get over it quickly, starting up a new conversation by the time Buck makes it to the dining table.

They’re absolutely correct and Buck can’t even pretend to deny that. He’s gotten so accustomed to having Eddie around that a day without him just doesn’t feel right. He feels…unmoored somehow and Buck wishes he could have a definitive explanation for why that is. He has his theory, of course, but a proven hypothesis is what he longs for most of all.

The thought of asking Eddie outright what his first name is terrifies him. He doesn’t trust himself to have a neutral reaction if he were to hear it directly from Eddie’s lips. What he needs is a filter, a buffer of some kind to absorb his shock should his suspicion pan out to be correct.

Bobby is in the kitchen getting started on dinner.

“Hey, Cap,” Buck calls over as he goes into the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “What’s Eddie short for?”

As he closes the door to the refrigerator and looks to Bobby, the man has stopped chopping peppers and is standing still, looking at him.

“Why do you ask?”

Buck busies himself with twisting off the bottle cap but he can still feel Bobby’s eyes fixed on him.

“No reason; I was just wondering. I mean, I know I could ask him,” he says, hoping his tone is nonchalant. “But you’re here right now so…I figured you could answer just the same since you’ve seen all his paperwork and stuff.”

Bobby holds his gaze for a beat before returning to prep the meal and Buck is glad for it. Sometimes his captain just seemed to fix him with a stare that went right through him. There were so many things he didn’t want anyone else to see and Buck always had the feeling Bobby was skilled in noticing private things, even if he didn’t voice his findings out loud.

“His first name is Edmundo but, as you know, he prefers going by Eddie.”

Buck pretends not to notice Bobby’s eyes flickering up to him again. He just takes a sip of his water and nods.

“Cool,” he says, trying to keep his tone indifferent but inside Buck feels as if he can just about burst at any second. He isn’t sure which is racing faster, his heart or his thoughts.

Buck still can’t shake the feeling that he’s showed his hand in a way he can’t bounce back from but he couldn’t stop himself from asking the question. It’d been gnawing at him having this question mark dangling over his head. At least he could finally put that mystery to rest officially. If the cost of that information was making Bobby suspicious, it was a price he was willing to pay. Any bit of information that could bring him one step closer to certainty would be worth it, ten times over in fact.

But for the sake of not drawing Bobby’s eye too closely to the situation, Buck does his best to change Bobby’s train of thought, whatever track it may be on.

He reaches over the island and snags a piece of meat off one of the cutting boards. As he expects, the move is enough to shift Bobby’s focus. His captain swats at his hand and points his finger at him.

“What are you, a dog swiping scraps off the table?” Bobby jokingly reprimands, shaking his head. “You know, you really shouldn’t tick off the guy with a knife in his hand.”

Buck grins and wiggles his brows as he tosses the food into his mouth and walks away, successfully dodging a bullet and distracting Bobby from getting close to whatever conclusion he seemed to be gearing up towards.

It isn’t until he’s heading down the stairs, past Hen and Chim, and is safely on his own that his thoughts begin to spiral in earnest. His hands shake as he holds on to the railing to keep from losing his balance. He’s coming undone at the seams. This confirmation is too much for him and the worst part of all is that he has no one to talk to about it now.

Buck keeps moving forward, his legs working on their own accord to take him outside of the station. His body knows that what he needs is time to himself to process this information. Breathless, he presses his back against the side of the building, the surface hot but he doesn’t care. He needs the support of the brick wall to keep him standing. The question of who his soulmate was had plagued him for almost a decade and now that he has an answer, Buck isn’t even sure what to do with it.

He knew he felt drawn to Eddie, literally from the moment they met. He had sensed it. Buck was a personable guy; he got along well with virtually everyone but that instantaneous connection to Eddie felt different to him. Buck had wondered if he was just so keyed up on the idea that Eddie was meant for him, as if he had on rose colored glasses but the truth was, he had been seeing the situation for what it was exactly. That spark was a flare, an internal signal alerting him to the fact that something big was happening here.

Buck presses his fingertips against his ribs, the move so instinctual since the name first appeared. It’s like air to him now. He may not be able to see it but he knows it’s there. More often than not, it feels like the only thing sustaining him. Discovering that Eddie is in fact Edmundo is similar to learning the meaning of a word that you’ve come across often but never looked up. You’re aware of its existence but it’s abstract until knowledge is gained.

Buck’s eyes sting and he feels as if he could just scream. For as much as he hated the fact that Eddie has the day off, he’s glad to be away from him in this moment. He’s in no fit state to be around him now. He wouldn’t trust himself to keep from shouting the truth that’s desperately trying to claw its way free, demanding to be heard.

~*~*~

The station’s alarm blares, drowning out the sound of the simulation game Hen and Buck are playing. They drop their controllers and hop to their feet, ready to gear up.

“Hen and Chim, I need you two to ride over in the ambulance. Eddie and Buck, you’re with me. Let’s go, guys,” Bobby instructs.

The team doesn’t hesitate to fall into line with Bobby’s orders. Buck grabs his helmet and hurries to the rig, swinging open the door and climbing inside, Eddie right on his heels. Bobby has the truck pulling out of the station just a few seconds later.

As always when they’re sent out on a call, Buck’s adrenaline races wildly. He’s already trying to imagine what scenario they’ll find themselves in, coming up with tactics he could use to help those in need before even arriving at the scene. If he can be prepared in any way, even by way of a hypothetical simulation in his head, Buck will be grateful for it. Sometimes seconds is all it takes between making sure someone can return home to their families that day or them never seeing their loved ones again.

As Bobby cuts through the streets, his hand heavy against the horn at times, Eddie looks at his phone screen and purses his lips. Buck knows he shouldn’t pry but he can’t stop himself from speaking up, seeing how distressed Eddie’s expression is.

“Everything alright?” he asks over the headset.

Eddie glances up at him as if weighing what to say before he sighs.

“Not really. My aunt is saying she isn’t sure she can watch Chris next week like she thought she’d be able to. I need to find someone in case it turns out she can’t. I haven’t been meeting too many people out here and either way, I’d hate to have to ask that favor.”

Buck thinks for a second. “I know a woman who could help,” he offers up.

“Are you trying to play matchmaker?” Eddie jokes.

Buck resists the urge to grimace at this. Like he would ever deign to pair Eddie up with someone else, as if the man’s name hadn’t been branded on his skin for days now. Eddie was his, even if the other man was none the wiser. Buck wouldn’t compromise that for anything.

Regardless, that wasn’t even remotely close to where Buck was going with this conversation so he dismisses Eddie inquiry with a laugh and roll of the eyes.

“Not in the way you’re clearly thinking right now. Her name is Carla Price and she is possibly the most badass caregiver in the whole city.”

He skips over the details of how it is he came to know Carla. Abby hasn’t crossed his mind in ages and he’d rather not get hung up with her in the back of his thoughts.

“Wait, seriously? Do you think she’d be willing to meet with me?”

Buck nods and fishes his phone out of the inside of his jacket. He sends a quick text to Carla and she responds less than a minute later.

“She’s up for it. If you’re free tonight, she says she’s available to chat.”

The smile that washes over Eddie’s face makes Buck’s brain short circuit for a second. All he ever wants to do is keep Eddie in good spirits, to ensure his peace of mind however possible.

“Buck, I owe you. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Just say the word.”

Buck falters for the briefest of seconds before smiling to cover it.

“It’s nothing. I’m just glad I could help you out somehow.” His voice sounds different in his own ears but Eddie might be too distracted and overjoyed with the good news to notice it.

Buck bites back on the inside of his lower lip and glances away, unable to look at Eddie right now. He’s certain the truth of what he wants is written plainly on his face. He’s sick with want, filled to the brim with longing. It’s a wonder Eddie can’t hear the call Buck’s soul makes to his regularly.

He looks out through the small window in the back of the truck to see how close they are to the scene and to look at anything but Eddie. What he finds is that Bobby’s peering at him through the rear-view mirror before turning his focus back on the road. Buck can feel his cheeks flushing and is glad for the hot day to be the perfect cover for the sudden change in hue.

He wishes the comms had a private channel he could speak on. Bobby was too good at reading between the lines.

~*~*~

It’s the end of their workday and the team hangs about the station around their engine, recounting the day they’ve had. Hen is adjusting her shirt, her wife Karen’s name visible on her collarbone. Eddie wonders what it would be like to be that confident in showing his soulmate marking off. In theory he could do so at work but for nine years, Eddie has gotten into the habit of hiding it.

At first it had been to avoid throwing the reminder in Shannon’s face every single day. Now it’s just become second nature. If he’s being completely honest, there’s also a small part of him that isn’t ready to make that bold of a statement. He’s comfortable in his sexuality and clearly the 118 isn’t close-minded but he isn’t even sure what label suits him best. His soulmate marking calls into question a lot of things he’s suppressed over the years. Being in L.A. as a whole is dredging up those dormant feelings.

He’s had fleeting attractions to guys every now and then but these days he finds himself focusing on one guy in particular even though he knows he has no business feeling anything towards Buck. He’s his co-worker and nothing more. He can’t be anything else to him. Eddie’s already disregarded his soulmate marking once before. He can’t bear to go down that road a second time.

Sometimes, he’d try discreetly to see if by some strange miracle his name is on Buck’s body but to no avail. He’s constantly torn between thinking Buck is skilled at hiding it like he is with his own marking or that the truth is staring him in the face and they aren’t meant for each other. The latter is a terrifying thought, especially since Eddie has been quietly taking a real liking to the man already but it’s just as well. Eddie’s never been lucky in love. Why should that change now?

“You good, Eddie?” Hen asks, pulling him from his thoughts.

Eddie looks around at the group, their faces all expectant. He clears his throat.

“Yeah, just daydreaming, I guess.”

She regards him thoughtfully and her kind, concerned gaze is like a serum that manages to pull more words out of him.

“I just noticed your marking,” he says, pointing to his own collarbone. Hen breaks into a wide smile and places a hand over where her wife’s name is printed on her skin.

Eddie wishes he could have that sense of ease. The matter of soulmates has always been such a sensitive topic for him, a source of stress.

Hen must see something in his face because her head tilts a bit to the side.

“Have you gotten yours?” she asks.

Eddie glances around at the group. These people are supposed to be his family after all. He can trust them and speak as freely as he’s comfortable with.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it makes much of a difference either way.”

Buck looks affronted as Chimney and Hen share a glance.

“Why do you say that?” Chim asks, leaning a shoulder against the side of the truck.

Eddie shrugs, struggling with the right words as he always seems to do any time he talks about something so personal.

“It feels a little too good to be true when you stop to consider it. Maybe for some folks it works out perfectly, like for you and Karen. But, I’m not so sure that’ll be the case for me. My soulmate and I have already gotten off on the wrong foot, I think. It’s…complicated,” he settles on saying.

“Like a Facebook status?” Chim interjects.

Hen presses her fingertips to her forehead, dropping her head down. “You’ll have to excuse him. His foot has a habit of landing in his mouth. There’s no cure for it, unfortunately.”

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. “I’m just not in a rush to find them right now is all. If it happens, great. If not, it’ll be alright too. I guess I’m good with just playing it by ear, you know? Whatever happens, happens.”

That’s the mantra he’s been adapting for himself now. Evan has been elusive since the man’s name first appeared on his flesh. Every day he’s had to look down and see it plastered on his skin but still he is nowhere near closer to finding him than he’d been on day one.

Chimney shrugs and nods in understanding. “I get that, too. I mean, they’re our soulmates, right? They’ll turn up. I’m just happy to know it’s going to happen,” he laughs, looking at the budding marking on his finger.

Buck rises from off the back bumper of the truck suddenly, making everyone in the cluster look over at him.

“I really gotta get going, sorry, guys,” he mumbles, saying something else Eddie doesn’t catch.

Eddie frowns, unsure of what to make of Buck’s changing mood and apparent hurry to get home. Hen and Chimney look just as confused too as Buck hooks his duffle bag onto his shoulder and starts to walk straight ahead.

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie calls after him but he doesn’t think Buck hears him for the man does not reply.

#buck x eddie #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #sulkybbarnes #rafasilvas #bisexualbuck #starlightbuck #athenagrantt #userbones #tylerhunklin #captainstennerstar #maysgrant #userkinga #kimmy writes

37 notes · View notes

syrenslure · 5 years

Text

Eliade’s Fan Fiction Prompts cont. 2/2

Pain (with or without pleasure/endorphins)

Pampering (spoiling someone rotten with gifts or money; physical pampering such as massage and grooming; giving someone a novel or unexpected degree of emotional or sexual care; catering to someone's every whim, e.g., someone who is in the hospital; harems as settings for pampering)

Paraphilias not listed elsewhere

Patience (e.g., showing patience toward a character who is brain-damaged or who is struggling bitterly with being recently crippled; or to a character prone to irrational fear or outbursts; patience with children; see also Gentleness)

Penance or reform (bad boy turns good; evil seeks to change; performing acts of atonement or restitution; self-mortification; martyrdom; selflessness; apologies or apology sex)

Physical imperfections (scars or burns; acne pits; heaviness; outsized features such as ears or nose; jolie-laide/ugly-beautiful characters)

Physical responses (face or ears burning; little hairs lifting on the scalp or neck; gut tightening; pulse quickening or missing a beat; lashes fluttering or lids growing heavy; mouth coming open; dick or pussy throbbing)

Pillow biting

Playing hard to get

Ponies (human ponies)

Pornography (magazines and videos; character was previously a porn star or fluffer)

Possession (by alien entity, spirits, or another person)

Possessiveness or jealousy

Power issues (inequities in beauty, rank, or class; power games; BDSM; power reversals; sheikhs, sultans, princes, and other royal figures; teacher/student pairings; magical powers; abuse of power; blackmail; romantic slavery; liege/lord pairings; issues of respect; sexual scenarios such as a dominant character giving his partner to others to use, or a character kneeling beneath a desk and blowing someone who's on the phone)

Power issues, sociopolitical (colonialism; alien invasion or rule; institutionalized slavery; totalitarian states and rebellion; powerful secret societies, e.g., the Illuminati or Watcher-style organizations)

Powers of attraction (characters such as sirens and Veelas; vampiric thrall; pheromones; magnetic and charismatic characters in general)

Predator/prey pairings

Preferential treatment (e.g., making a point of showing respect towards someone when no one else does; showing a soft side only to them)

Pretending to be gay (cops or spies going undercover; a charade to deflect unwanted attention from a stranger; a ruse to avoid ritual marriage to aliens)

Primitivism (dropping technologically advanced characters into exotic/primitive settings; medieval societies either magical or non-magical; nomadic and desert cultures; warrior cultures; jungle tribes; the noble savage; Androcles/lion pairings; the social intimacies of tribes/camps; bacchanals; culture clash/shock; unusual practices/rituals, e.g., feats of skill and strength or marriage as treaty; schizo-tech cultures, as when a seemingly feudal pre-industrial society has high-tech elements; see also Roughnecks; Animal themes and fetishization; Animalistic behaviors or characteristics; Exoticism)

Prison scenarios (prison rape and/or protection; cruel guards; punishment; hard labor; deprivation; prisoners of war; camps and barracks; false imprisonment)

Prizes (characters who are eroticized as prizes or spoils of war)

Prostate pleasure

Prostitutes (call-girls and hookers; rent boys and hustlers; escorts; paying one's way through school with sideline hooking; juvenile past on the streets)

Protectiveness (physically or verbally defending someone; caretaking in general; big guy/little guy pairings; bodyguard scenarios; mysterious benefactors or protectors)

Public displays of affection, PDAs

Pushy bottom

Rape (single assailant; gang rape; partner rape)

Rape recovery

Religion (sin; faith and lack of faith; priests, monks, nuns, etc; shamans; biblical characters; angels and demons; gods and goddesses; saints; monastic or convent culture)

Rescue (danger and rescue in general, e.g., abductions)

Restraint (pinning someone down; pushing someone's arm up behind their back during sex; covering or clasping someone's hands to prevent movement)

Restraints (handcuffs, leather ties, chains, etc)

Restraints, full-body (stocks; suspension harnesses; fisting slings; rape racks)

Reversal of role or fortune (loss of love, power, rank, etc; hunter becomes prey, master becomes slave; a strong character is made weak; role-reversal games; Flowers for Algernon scenario)

Rimming or tongue-fucking

Rogues (outlaws, highwaymen, mercenaries, pirates, gangsters, hitmen, etc; black sheep and royal bastards; Han Solo characters; tricksters; see also Violent and dark natures and Rough behavior)

Romance (see Love and passion; Courting; Seduction)

Ropework (intricate/artistic erotic bondage)

Roughnecks (cowboys; Tarzan figures; relatedly rough characteristics and behavior, such as scruffiness, rudeness, crude language, uncouth habits, etc; see also Lady and the Tramp pairings; Primitivism; Rogues)

Rough sex (quick and dirty sex; hate or grudge sex; angry sex; fighting/wrestling; jackhammer fucking; sex with no or little lube)

Sadism or sadomasochism

Sandwich sexual position or chain fuck (threesome)

Scars or scarification

Scent as an erotic element

Schmoop

School themes and fetishization (boarding schools; dojos; scholarly gowns and uniforms; sailor fuku; prep school chic; teacher/student pairings; donnish or professorial characters; prefects/head boys; caning; schoolboy hijinks or sexual discovery; military academies; tutoring and teaching in general; see also Conditioning)

Secret admirers

Secret identity (superheroes, slayers, immortals, mutants, etc; disguised gender; spies)

Secrets, other (dark or criminal past; double lives; previous marriage and/or children; unspoken feelings)

Seduction (one-on-one; two-on-one; verbal or physical; intense erotic courtship or teasing; see also Courting)

Sensory overload or enhancement

Sex change (gender swap; forced feminization; see also Gender themes)

Sex in public or semi-public places

Sex in vehicles (cars, taxis, limos; planes or space shuttles; motorcycles; carnival rides)

Sex is interrupted

Sex on, against, or under furniture

Sex on horseback

Sex outdoors/outside (in a field; in a rainstorm; with snow falling; on the beach; in a graveyard; in an alley)

Sex slaves or mates (concubines, catamites, etc)

Sex standing up (including against a wall)

Sex with aliens (xenophilia)

Sex with clothes still on or partly on

Sexual appetite or excess (hypersexuality, i.e., high sex drive; sex addiction or compulsive behavior; short/no refractory period; multiple orgasms; multiple partners; indiscriminate sex or sluttishness)

Sexual discovery (of one's orientation; of new kinds of pleasure; of one's partner)

Sexual experience or expertise (high number of partners; wide variety of sexual experience; demonstrating experience by taking the lead in sex or teaching one's partner)

Sexual frustration (orgasm denial or being unable to come; blue balls; enforced abstinence; self-denial; inability of two people to touch)

Sexual hang-ups

Sexual movements (back arching; hips lifting; thrusting back; writhing, jerking, bucking; clenching; grinding or rocking; trembling or shivering; hooking legs around shoulders; pressing someone's legs back toward the bed; riding someone's fingers)

Sharing (sharing a beer bottle, joint, or bucket of popcorn; loaning someone clothes; a character letting someone stay in their home; sharing confidences; sharing a woman)

Shower sex

Shyness (embarrassment; blushing or stammering; body shyness or dysmorphic disorder; cultural modesty)

Silence (slave silence; silence as an erotic element in sex; trying to be silent during semi-public sex; going nonverbal or speechless with arousal; traumatic mutism; selective mutism; sign language; gestures used to convey feelings rather than words; see also Clams)

Simultaneous orgasm

Situational engineering (the conscious or unconscious manufacture of events that give an emotional or sexual pay-off which can't be otherwise achieved; in particular, perilous situations; for example, character A puts himself in danger in order to receive fussy attention from character B; pay-off can be simply seeing someone, or hurt/comfort touching, intimacy, adrenaline sex, etc)

Situational homosexuality

Sixty-nine (69)

Size queens

Slavery (see Master and slave)

Sleep and bedding themes (sharing a bed by necessity, such as in a hotel with only one room left; sharing a sleeping bag for warmth; sex while drowsy or sleeping; sex as a sleep aid; autonomic arousal from proximity; morning wake-up sex, falling asleep against someone's shoulder; watching someone sleep; dreams; nightmares; dream lovers, e.g., succubi; exotic or romantic beds, e.g., canopied; furs as bedding; silk sheets)

Slow and/or prolonged sex

Smarm (intense friendship with physical closeness but no actual sex)

Smiles or laughing

Snark

Society (social mores and morality; laws; institutional regulations such as Don't Ask Don't Tell; elaborate rituals or ceremonies; social events such as feasts and parties; decorum; formal or deferential modes of address; see also Witnesses)

Spanking (over the knee or lap, etc)

Special powers and skills (superhero powers; magical powers; telekinesis; shapeshifting; hyperdeveloped senses; combat expertise; sharpshooting; eidetic memory; computer hacking skills; thief skills; temporary gifts of power from drugs, alien devices, etc, repercussions of which could include delusions of godhood, dangerous physical or mental overload, and so on)

Spooning

Sports themes and fetishization (sports rivalries; uniforms and jock-straps; wrestling and sweaty exertion in general; locker-room or shower scenes; team gang-bangs; swimmer/surfer body types; pool and billiards games)

Straight or straight-acting partner(s)

Straight-guy sexual scenarios (comparing dick size; lending a helping hand; circle jerks; watching het porn together, with or without masturbation; practicing dancing, kissing, or romantic conversation in preparation for one character having a date with a woman)

Striking with implements (whips, belts, riding crops, canes, paddles, etc)

Striptease

Submission (obedience; submissive behaviors such as boot kissing, crawling, keeping one's eyes lowered, or kneeling for master; believing in cultural dictates of submissive behavior; abasement in general)

Surprises

Swallowing (come)

Swords and sword-play

Talking and communication issues (dirty talk or verbal seduction; sweet talking; reciting poetry; talking someone to orgasm; talking during sex; pillow talk; phone sex; speech becoming broken as one is aroused or upset; being inarticulate or articulate; aphasia; talking fast; miscommunication and misunderstandings in general; lack of a shared language; see also Silence; Clams; Voice fetishization)

Taste as an erotic element

Tattoos (decorative, symbolic, or slave; barcodes)

Teasing or tickling

Techno (technophilic themes; artificial humans; character is copied or downloaded into mechanical host body; other ghost in the machine scenarios; androids and cyborgs as sexual partners; wetwear enhancements; cyberpunk aesthetic; VR or Matrix scenarios; see also Otherness)

Telepathy (see also Bonds and mental abilities; Special powers and skills)

Temperamental personalities (driven or obsessed; hot-tempered or testy; moody; misanthropic or bitter; abrasive)

Tentacle sex

Threesomes (M/F/M, M/M/M, etc)

Top/bottom pairings (also seme/uke)

Topping

Topping from the bottom

Touching (stroking and caressing; cuddling or nuzzling; huddling for warmth; hugging; holding hands in public; touching as UST; brief brushes of contact either deliberate or accidental; PDAs; thighs brushing under a table; comic physical entanglements; someone gripping a wounded character's hand)

Toughness (machismo or hyper-masculinity; physical stamina; a hard surface covering an inner softie; resolve; survival skills; teeth-gritting acts such as pulling an arrow out of one's own thigh, etc; see also Rough behavior; Bad boys, etc)

Toys and devices (sex toys of all kinds; feathers, ice cubes, hot wax, etc)

Tragic flaws

Trapped or stranded together (on another world; on a desert island; in a cave-in; in a cabin during a snowstorm; in an elevator)

Triangles (love triangles)

Triangulation of desire (two men express their desire for each other through a female intermediary; sexual rivalry for a woman is actually homoerotic interest)

Trust and vows (promises are kept or broken; loyalty or betrayal; absolute trust or doubt; fidelity or infidelity; blindfolds or bondage as trust symbols; commitment or fear of commitment; acts of devotion; marriage vows; unconditional love; blood brothers and oaths; showing trust/faith in someone's abilities)

Underage partner or chan (adolescent)

Underdogs

Undressing (undressing in front of someone for the first time; one character undressing another; fumbling clumsily to get undressed; stripteases)

Urgency for sex (begging to suck cock; desperate to fuck; greedy bottom)

UST (unresolved sexual tension)

Vaginal/female genital fetishization (wet, tight; virginal; aching/stiff clit; wide lips; multi-orgasmic)

Vaginal penetration (e.g., deep dicking)

Vaginal penetration with foreign objects

Vampires

Violence (see Conflict; Death)

Violent feelings (hatred; murderous rage; need for revenge)

Violent and dark natures (sadists; assassins and murderers; sociopaths who make twisted, scary displays of affection, conflating love and violence; criminals and villains in general; characters who are ruthless, merciless, casually vengeful; soulless demons or vampires; monsters in general)

Virgins or inexperienced partners

Voice fetishization (cracking or broken; husky, low, throaty; purring; accents; whispering close to someone's ear)

Voyeurism and vision themes (character A secretly watches B and C have sex; character A is forced to watch B and C have sex; character A watches character B perform/masturbate; viewing one's beloved in general; taking pictures or video; eye contact, especially as flirting; establishing authority with a look; closing eyes as a trust gesture; character A feeling that character B truly sees him, when no one else does; the quality of light, e.g., characters lit by moonlight or candlelight, or gilded by the setting sun; being in the dark; temporary or permanent blindness; gazes as objectification)

Vulnerability

Warriors (see Heroes; Amazons and strong women; Toughness; Primitivism; Rogues; Military fetishization)

Washing (washing one's partner, body or hair; bubble baths; shower scenes; slave service in bath; cleaning/cleansing someone who's been raped, degraded, or who is injured)

Weapon fetishization (gun fu; trademark weaponry: Lara Croft's dual pistols, Duncan's katana; exotic weapons: war fans, whips; embedded: Wolverine's claws; magical/symbolic: Sting, Excalibur, Narsil; sentient or empathic; hiding a multitude of weapons on one's body; concealment in general: derringer in garter, boot knife; see other individual listings; Military fetishization)

Well-fucked (being fucked out; fuck-dazed; sated and sleepy; wrecked; softened and debauched)

Western scenarios and fetishization (cowboy gear; campfire and trail scenes; horses; gunslingers, lawmen, card sharps, etc; train robberies and bank hold-ups; posses; saloon brawls)

Wet dreams or erotic dreams

Wish-fulfillment

Wings (wingfic)

Witnesses (families, friends, or others watch the development of a relationship; play matchmaker or serve as confidants; think the characters are involved when they're really not; constitute the public eye; disapprove, gossip, give advice; are the audience for a coming out drama; are witnesses to such things as flirting, public arousal, public sex)

Woke up gay

Worry (one character worrying anxiously about another; going crazy with worry)

Writing (love letters or notes; secret admirers; e-mail and chat; wills; poetry; storytelling; tracing words or figures on skin, or writing, as with an inkbrush)

#writing challenges #kink list #cliche list #fanfic prompts #Cliche Kink & Tropes Masterlist #fanfic cliches #fanfic trope

18 notes · View notes

spirit-of-the-void · 6 years

Text

Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 8

Author’s Notes: This chapter took so long I am so sorry.

Chapter 8

That line alone was enough to send your heart pounding into a frenzy.

I’ll be gentle.

This was neither the time not place to feel turned on by the poet, but his words of challenge sent a warm feeling ablaze in your stomach. You were sure your face was red, but you moved so fast that nobody had a chance to notice. Battle now, focus on your horrible train of thoughts later—the horseman was attacking. You summoned tendrils from your body, shooting to the side and trying to wrap them around the horse’s feet as you ran. It drew its attention to you, the creature turning with an angry shriek as the rider’s eyes settled blankly on your battle-ready form. This left him open to V’s attacks, or rather, Griffon and Shadow’s. You saw V whip out his book of poetry, pointing the cane with his free hand. His eyes were so focused on the battle, expression almost entranced as he ordered the two to attack.

Griffon went flying over the horseman, slamming lightning into the ground with a maniac cackle of delight. He focused a ball of lightning, sending a huge burst of bright purple out to slam into the stoic rider. You let out a low whistle—Griffon had some new attacks. Shadow did as well, descending on the pair of enemies and turning into a set of spinning blades. The horseman tried to defect it with its strange, bladed weapon, but there was only so much you could do to hold back a spinning black mass of angry panther. He and the horse ended up hit, rearing back with angry grunts of pain. You used that moment of distraction to send tendrils lashing out like whips, aiming for the legs of the creature this demon was riding. It appeared less than pleased, turning to fix you in place with glowing blue eyes and fire dripping from its maw.

Yikes.

It reared back again, sending out a blue orb of an attack that exploded into a dome on impact, right over you. You turned to dash to the side, but found yourself moving in slow motion. Your eyes jerked up in shock, seeing the rider turn in real time to point his weapon at you. Several shots of lightning orbs came hurtling your way, you just barely managing to make it out of the dome in enough time to dodge. You spiraled over the ground, landing in a low slide as the attack meant for you sent explosions all over the pavement and nearby buildings. That definitely wasn't good. You were sure the horse leveled that one, not the man on his back. The demon horse had some fancy skills, that was for sure.

You heard Griffon let out a startled noise as he watched this happen, swooping down to snatch you and get you out of the way of another dome attack. He brought you around to the other side, depositing you beside Shadow before flying away to attack on his own again. You shot a glance at V, seeing a peculiar expression on his face as he looked up from his book, seeing the way these creatures fought and what kind of attacks they had. He looked troubled, but a look of understanding passed over his eyes as he snapped his fingers, sending Nightmare slamming out of a portal in the sky and landing right on the rider and his horse. You winced—that had to hurt. Nightmare was a heavy boy, and falling from that height gave him some oomph.

“Be careful V!” Griffon squawked from overhead, swinging around to send lightning over the battlefield, "He's got horsepower!"

“I’ll take that momentum...and send it right back.” V replied in that silken tone, only now having the edge of battle.

You rolled your eyes at the bird’s pun, sweeping back around to try and keep the agro off the poet while he read. You summoned more tendrils, grabbing onto the horse’s back legs while it bucked and kicked to try and snap them. The momentum made you grunt, arms straining from holding fast. The horse was very strong and determined, oddly enough stronger than Nidhogg. You planted your feet into the ground, heels of your boots skidding over the earth as the horse whipped around and tried to snap your attack away. The rider fixed his gaze on you again, shooting several warning shots at you as you flipped away. Shit, this was not gonna be a fun fight. You felt a cloud of icy air leave your lungs, your hand grasping your chest as you slid back from the creature and met V’s gaze.

You were close to your limits.

V gave you a look of understanding before addressing the battlefield again, eyes cold and focused as he circled the bucking horse, your tendrils now falling away now that you had taken a step back to breath. Nightmare was shooting lasers out of his eye, lines of explosions traveling past you and just far enough away that you didn’t get hurt, thankfully. Nightmare at least had good aim. Griffon circled over you nervously, shooting lightning at the horseman from afar while also seemingly staying close to make sure he could help you if need be. Touching, really. But V was the target of the horse’s gaze now, dodging three separate domes of whatever that ability was before pointing his cane to make Shadow attack. The mighty cat reared its head to roar, sending a folly of spikes down the battlefield.

Much to your shock, the rider on the horse finally spoke. He turned that empty gaze to V, voice a deep rasp as he addressed the sandal wearing goth.

“Weak, powerless creatures.” It said simply, sending a shower of electric orbs in his direction. Griffon darted over to pull V out of the way, entering a time-slowing dome in just enough time to rescue the poet. Worry was filling you now—this battle was bad for your anxiety, that was for sure.

Griffon let out a cocky chuckle at the creature’s words, dropping V back down and sneering lightly, “Oh ho! So? You got a comeback for that?”

V let out a low hum, head tilted and gaze still set on the enemy as he replied, “One thought fills immensity.”

Griffon let out an annoyed groan, sleeping past the poet as he squawked, “This is not the time for poetry!” He paused, confusion entering his tone as he added, “Wait, what does that even mean?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” V replied in a low purr, whipping his book back out again once Nightmare disappeared, “Now let’s go!”

His words made you huff lightly, rolling your shoulders and testing your tendrils out of your hands. You could afford to expend a little more, you needed to help however you could. Or else Griffon’s first words would have been right—you didn’t want to become dead weight on them. If you extended, Nico would be back within the hour and you could rest. Then tomorrow was another day, you could all set out and get shit done as needed. You grit your teeth, sending as many tendrils as you could spare over to V, passing him some energy before he could notice and scold you. You saw him gasp, eyes jerking over to look at you just as the tendrils left him. You saw several emotions passing over his face, but a calm smile remained on yours. You weren’t done, not yet. Just a little bit more.

The rider sent the horse rearing back, slamming back down and sending a shock wave of lightning over the floor. You leapt back, clinging to a light pole by your tendrils to avoid the attack. The horse let out an unholy screech, blowing clouds of steam out its nostrils as several dome attacks shot out of his mouth, landing near you, on V, and off to the side. V grunted, body motion slowed as he turned and lifted his cane for Griffon to grab him. They narrowly dodged more lightning, coming to a sliding halt outside the dome. V scowled a bit—it was an interesting expression on his usually soft face. A part of his long coat had been singed on the bottom. He missed that attack in a very narrow window, it would seem.

“The power to control time...” He murmured, rolling his shoulders as he walked to the side, pulling out his poetry again. You had to give him credit, he was flawless in execution when it came to putting the book away and taking it out again, “That’s quite a horse.”

Griffon let out a sound of agreement, but his tone was perplexed as he replied, “But that would mean it’s Geryon! I thought Dante killed it already!”

Dante, the devil-hunter your group was trying to help save. If he could kill this horse, he had to be impressive.

V let out a low hum of agreement, jade eyes fixed on said horse as he replied, “A rare species, but apparently not quite extinct,” He gave a half smirk, a cocky expression on his face as he added, “Until today, that is.”

You rolled your eyes at the both of them, calling over, “Focus now, exposition later."

You thought you heard V laugh, but you weren’t sure. Griffon was easy to tell, a loud snort leaving him as he swept past you.

The fight didn’t seem to last as long as you had anticipated, and it was strangely going off without a hitch. You provided back-up however you could, some tendrils attached to V here and there to help get him away, one snapping through the battlefield to trip up some of the horse’s legs. V had found a system of sorts you both were following—you'd protect him as he read his poems, charging himself with enough power to summon Nightmare. Seeing the creature made you wistful—he had such big arms, perfect for hugging, but you only ever saw him during fights. You rarely got the chance to talk to him either, or interact at all. You were determined to get a hug from the big, hulking creature at some point. As with the other familiars, you were determined now. But it wasn’t the time to focus on it, the fight was coming to a steady end.

Or so you thought.

The horse was wheezing and panting as the attacks of the familiars slammed into it, still trying to whip around and attack even as its back legs buckled. You would have felt bad if the horse hadn’t tried to kill you all at first glance. You knew it was finished, leaning against a light pole as V approached the defeated beast. He was looking a pretty exhausted, but that smile was still on his face as he readied his cane. He darted forward, Griffon lifting him up just as the horse reared its mighty head, staring at him with profound hated as V slammed his cane into its neck. It released a scream of agony, bright blue sparks filling the air as the rider slumped forward on it and V let out a sharp grunt of exertion. You let out a light breath, not paying as much attention as you should. Not watching as much as you should.

You should have been watching.

V smirked in the horse’s face, his voice a breathy purr as he quoted, “The hours of folly are measur’d by the clock, but of wisdom—no clock can measure," He whipped the cane out of its neck in a shower of blue particles, illuminating his face as growled, “Die!”

The horse let out a dying gurgle. Head whipping around as its body began to crumble into purple sparks. You thought it would end there, you thought it would be like every other fight, a fight where V would wipe his hands of the enemy and you’d be on your way. But you hadn’t been paying attention enough, body tired and slowed by you being close to reaching exertion. When your eyes finally looked up to realize you were mistaken, it was too late for you or Griffon to stop it from happening. Your gaze locked on V as he landed the finishing blow, foresight flaring heavily without warning and the realization kicking in that something was about to go terribly wrong.

As V was pulling out the cane, the horse’s eyes glowed for the last time. He let out a rasping screech, rearing back his and releasing what you realized too late was one last time stopping attack. V fell back in slow motion, eyes going wide when the realization set in. You heard Griffon let out an alarmed shout, moving at the same time as you to grab the poet. But the rider was faster. In his remaining strength he lifted his weapon, sending it slamming into V’s upper shoulder and chest. All the breath left your lungs in a scream, energy flaring to send tendrils up to shoot through the riders shoulders and arms. He let out a grunt of pain, retracting the blades and sending V flying away with a kick. Both slid away from the horse’s disintegrating body.

You heard V’s pained cry, his body caught by Griffon’s talons and slowly set down on the ground. You felt your eyes burn, panic filling you when you saw a nasty wound dripping blood from his right shoulder, blood tracking down his black tattoos. The rider collapsed, weakened and battered before making a hasty retreat away. He managed to clear the crumbling brambles, the path he took blocked by the debris in an instant. You saw V try to stand, alarm filling you as you darted to his side and instantly summoned the bag of materials Nico had given you. Bad bad. This was bad. You were starting to feel the exertion, hands trembling as you fumbled for bandages, for anything that could help. You could feel your heart roaring in your ears, mind going numb at the sight of his blood dripping onto concrete.

“V...!” Your tone echoed the panic in your brain, cracking like you were on the verge of tears.

“You fucking idiot!” Griffon screeched at V, holding the poet back when he tried to stand, "Don’t fucking move dumbass!”

"I’m...fine...” V said in a weak, breathless tone, “I must chase him...! If the devil sword Sparda still exists...It may very well be our only hope...!”

Again with that stupid god damn sword. It was the bane of your existence at that moment.

“If you haven’t noticed you’re bleeding all over the fucking place!” Griffon snapped while your mouth was frozen in panic. You could barely breath, you didn’t know what to do. You were so close to breaking yourself with your power, how the hell were you supposed to heal him without making yourself useless? This kind of a wound went through and through, it would take steady hours of energy transference.

“He....he can’t stay here...” Your voice was shaking, eyes meeting the poet’s with pure panic. Your foresight was flaring wildly out of control, signaling oncoming danger still in the area, “We need to move...!”

You no sooner spoke when a rumbling echo filled the air, making the ground tremble. From the tunnel you exited out of you saw demons rising out in the distance. Dozens of them. All the ones you had bypassed before seemed to want to follow, smelling the blood of the poet now as it steadily dripped down, mingling with the still-falling rain water. You had nowhere to go—the way forward was blocked and the way back was blocked by them as they steadily approached. There was no hiding the smell, no hiding at all. Things had gone from seemingly manageable to completely wrecked in an instant, your mind reeling at the prospect of V dying to your incompetence. Think think think. You had to think. You had been through these scenarios before, there had to be a solution.

You looked at Griffon, seeing fear in his glowing gold eyes for once instead of mischief. Shadow immediately whipped around to stand in front of you all, baring its teeth in warning to the slowly approaching demons. You realized belatedly that in this fight, all they could do was attack. They couldn't kill demons, and V couldn't be left to bleed out on the floor. You let out a low, sharp curse, pulling off your top and turning back to the poet. You wrapped it around the wound, hating how his eyes were already closing tiredly from the blood loss. The pressure on his open would made him gasp in pain, eyes opening again as he clutched at the spot. His pallor was already bad, teeth gritted in agony and gaze meeting yours.

“I’m sorry,” He breathed, “This was my error.”

You shook your head, pressing on the wound again before looking around at your surroundings. There was a door nearby to what looked like a small apartment with a garage attached. The garage was open just enough to pull V through, and that seemed the easiest place to go at the moment. You needed to make a choice, and make it fast—you already knew what needed to be done. Nico wouldn’t be back from the other side of the city with Nero for another forty minutes or so, and you were more than willing to break yourself to keep people safe. You had done it before.

You saw V’s eyes close, head lolling back a bit as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Your heart pounded faster, adrenaline filling you now. You were running out of time.

“Get him in there!” You pointed to the garage, tone leaving no room for argument as you looked at Griffon, “When you do keep pressure on the wound! You and Shadow make sure nothing gets through...!”

“What?!” He screeched, alarm in his tone as you stood, giving your shoulders a light roll, “Don’t be a dumbass too! You can’t take that many demons you moron!”

“I can take it,” You breathed, the cold chill of the Void filling your lungs as you took a few steps away from them. You spared a look back, heart squeezing at the sight of V with his eyes closed and face still filled with pain. It was better he didn’t see; it was better he not witness you. You turned again, determination filling you as the demons neared the courtyard. Sacrifices must be made, a price to be paid, “Just go, Griffon!”

You heard the bird release a stream of curses, but blessedly he started dragging the poet away. Shadow let out a worried, small sound of a roar at you. You looked back again, knowing what the cat would see when you met its gaze. You saw its red eyes blink at you, seeing the black of your pupils expand, swallowing your irises and whites until only the black remained. The cat took a step back, bowing its head a bit before turning and grabbing V’s collar, helping the bird quickly drag him away. You let out a slow, trembling breath, feeling Griffon’s gaze on you. He would see, but you would have to trust him to keep his mouth shut about you were about to do.

Your gaze drifted back to the demons, hand instinctively pulling out one of your new daggers as you faced them. They walked to your sides, in front, meaning to corner you and attack all at once. They would not get the chance. You tipped your head, face deadly calm as you lifted the dagger, feet planted firmly as the energy inside flared, the exertion hitting you but halted by the words ready to exit your mouth. Cold, echoing over the rain, echoing across dimensions. You had spoken these words before, but when? That cut on your palm belonged there—you stared at it, echoes of memories crawling up your spine. It was a sacrifice to be made, for the price of pain.

You lifted the dagger, sliding the sharp edge over the scar, black eyes staring down the demons as you spoke, words written in obsidian.

“Spirit of the deep, Siren of dreams,” You didn’t feel the blade, but pain burst in the rest of your being. Still, your words never wavered. You had done this before after all, “He of all things. Of cradle songs and bones gnawed by teeth.”

An eerie feeling settled over the clearing. The demons all froze as a low, hushed sound echoed from all around. Your hair began to rise, the red of your blood dripping from your palm and onto the pavement. One drip. Two. Then three. Then four. You counted until six had fallen, clouds of icy air leaving your lungs and forming fog around you. The rain pattering all around slowed, droplets beginning to rise around your form with several pieces of pavement and debris. The Void was here, in all things, whispered in the cracks of space and time. A dark place, a reminder all should heed. You heard the familiar, distance howl of tormented voices fill the air, sending shivers up your spine. You wished you didn’t have to put Griffon and Shadow through this.

“You rule my dreams, there in the dark splendor of the deep,” You voice whispered, somehow louder than everything in the space, “There the ocean rests on your back, like a sleeping child on his father’s shoulders.”

Time seemed to slow as you spoke. You resisted the urge to rub your eyes, blinking when the area in front of you warped a bit. You swore you saw the Void in its terrible brilliance, the carcass of a whale floating by and staring at you. You let out heavy breaths, closing your eyes and accepting the swirling energy of the Void as you called upon your deity for his aid, begging and pleading for the power to protect the people behind you. There would be a price, there always was. You were ready for it, because you had done this before. The memories were louder now, screaming at the top of their lungs about all the reminders they held. You had done this before. And it will hurt.

You were ready for it to hurt.

When you opened your eyes again, the Deity was toe to toe with you. You heard Griffon gasp. You knew others could just faintly see the Deity when summoned, but he wouldn’t be able to remember when he looked like later. A low bass rumble filled the air, making your ears ring and fingers shake as a god had now shown itself in this place, a place he didn’t belong. His black eyes took up your vision, unblinking and unmoving as he took your hand, pressing against the wound until it stung terribly. You didn’t wince, you didn’t dare move.

You continued speaking, voice still unrelenting as you stared at the being before you.

“In these sleepless nights of despair,” You whispered, smelling the cold and dark taste of the Void on his breath as he hummed, listening to you speak with a quiet interest, amusement if you weren’t mistaken, “You appear to me. Not as the mighty leviathan, but as a young man—”

This was your invocation. Your sacrifice. Say it.

“— With eyes as black as the Void.”

The Deity closed his eyes with a low hum, leaning his head down so his chin rested on your head. Akin to a fatherly embrace, he whispered to you as his power filled every part of you, limbs burning and trembling as you stared ahead at the demons frozen to the spot.

You know the price, His voice echoed in your mind, but his mouth didn’t move as he pulled away. He brought a bead of your blood to his mouth, tasting it on a grey tongue. Was that the color? For every drop paid is an hour gained. But for every hour gained is another hour suffered.

Six drops of blood. Six hours of his blessing. Then, balanced, six hours of agony. You knew what must be done.

You nodded, taking a step back as the Deity smiled widely, his image evaporating before your eyes as everything began to move again. The floating debris fell, landing all around as rain started to drench your trembling frame. You could hear Griffon panting in shock, still dragging V away even as he still watched. You fought a sigh—you wish he hadn’t seen that. It was more explaining you'd have to do later. But that was fine, you were ready for it. You’d have six hours to do so, after all. The wound on your palm fused immediately, the reminder still there of the price that was paid as you squeezed shut a fist, lifting your black eyes to the screaming, approaching demons again. You had to make this quick—that time you gained would have to be spent healing V. Nothing more.

You had the energy to expend now, as if the Deity’s puppet strings were woven around your bones, around the culmination of your being. You moved barely feeling it, all fatigue gone in the moments you now had. The Deity’s breath was in your lungs, like icy hands in your chest. It was pain, glorious pain, and you could handle it with grace.

You could do something incredible with this.

Several demons began to lunge at you, claws outstretched and sharp teeth ready to bite into your flesh. They wouldn’t get the chance.

You rose a hand, teeth grit as you hissed out, “From being, into Death.”

Tendrils shot out of the ground all around you, black in color this time. Thousands of them, impaling demons through several parts of their bodies as the tendrils traveled along the ground. The large group of demons was swept to the side, screaming in fear as the huge, writhing mass of tendrils descended upon them in a wave of pain and death. It curled into the sky, stabbing and jutting out until one demon remained, piercing so many spikes into its body it burst apart. A huge mass of tendrils remained, curling around the courtyard in a behemoth show of strength. This was the power of the Void, pure and simple. Not a single demon remained, all beginning to disintegrate into nothingness as a cold breeze blew over the courtyard, colder than it should be in June.

You heard Griffon let out a shocked gasp, watching the tendrils detach from you, turning slowly into black crystal. The entire structure began to harden, turning into the glittering mass similar to what you had given Nico earlier. The adrenaline was fading now, turning into a deep panic and anxiety as you panted out breaths, afraid to turn around. You had done something terribly amaze, frightening. And Griffon and Shadow saw it. You needed to focus; your fear came after helping V. He was first priority.

You turned, eyes going back to normal as you followed the line of blood, seeing Griffon peaking his beak out of the opening with Shadow’s snout. You slid in, meeting Griffon’s gaze briefly before looking at V. He was propped against a nearby wall in the empty garage, holding the wound himself and panting out harsh breaths. You froze, meeting his gaze with one of pure panic. He was awake, he was awake while you had attacked. Did he see? You felt your heart pounding so hard it hurt, resisting the urge to dig your nails into your palms. His eyes were half closed, expression pained as his jade gaze held yours for a moment. You swallowed; the silence now held over the space making your panic even worse. Summoning your courage, you produced tendrils, lifting the poet up and hurrying to a nearby door.

He grunted in agony as soon as you did, making you jump and squeak, “S...sorry...! I’m so sorry...!” You didn’t know what you were apologizing for, so many regrets mingling in your brain as you opened the door, hoping to god the place you picked was still in one peace.

Much to your shock and relief, V managed a grim half smile, voice very weak as he replied, “Don’t apologize. This...was my mistake.”

“You’re damn right it is!” Griffon suddenly snarled, making you jump a bit as you turned to look at him. His feathers were puffed out, look of shock gone as he glared at the poet, “You know better than to do stupid shit like that, V! This whole situation is absolutely fucked!”

You felt guilt pour over you, carefully moving V inside and looking around. It appeared to be a simple, one-bedroom apartment. Everything was in one space—the floor was raised on the far wall where the bed rested with some small tables and a dresser. On the lowered floor was a couch facing a television on the wall. A little, quaint kitchen was tucked away in the corner with a tiny dining room table. And you assumed the closed door to the side was a bathroom. You sighed in relied—no roots had broken through here yet. You quickly walked over a plush rug on the floor, clearing the two steps leading up to the bed and setting V down there. He gasped in pain as soon as you gently sat him up, his skin somehow paler than usual.

“I’m so sorry...!” You whimpered worriedly, holding him up with the tendrils as you eased one side of his vest away. The wound looked absolutely nasty, making bile rise in your throat a bit. You swallowed again, trying to calm the rising panic, “I was here to help and I couldn’t even manage to stop this.”

V let out a shaken breath, closing his eyes as he managed, “Don’t do that. It isn’t your fault.”

“You did plenty out there,” Griffon added in a shocked tone, making you wince. He landed on the bed, staring at you with a mix of awe and confusion, “How have you not reached your limit yet after that fucking slaughter fest? I thought for sure you'd be on the floor by now.”

V let out a grunt, eyeing you with heavy concern as he rasped, “Are you alright, Y/N?”

You shushed him, ignoring the question and helping ease his black vest off his shoulders. You could only briefly admire his black tattoos wrapping all the way down to his waist—there were definitely more important things to focus on. You recalled for a moment that you were already standing there in just a bralette top and your shorts. You would feel awkward later, but now was definitely not the time. Once the poet was free of his leather coat, you pulled the bandages from your bag. He was panting from the pain already, probably suffering from heavy blood loss. The area around the wound was black and blue, bruised and inflamed. The rider hit him good. There was a lot of damage.

You wrapped a few tendrils around that shoulder, closing your eyes as you activated your energy.

“Y/N,” V began to protest, grabbing one of your wrists as you murmured a new spell, “You cant...!”

“Through the Void, Flesh is woven,” You breathed, ignoring his complaints. You gave him a little energy, enough to remove the bruising and prevent any infection. He slumped a little when you did, a low gasp escaping his full lips as you caught him before he could fall forward. You smiled softly, watching his eyes close again once the magic began to take effect, “I can only give you a little at a time...Too much of this energy at a time would be agonizing and could hurt you worse. This will take a few hours.”

He was panting, eyes still closed as he replied in a low rasp, “I’m not a fool...This won’t come without cost,” He lifted his jade eyes, lifting a weak arm to gently grasp your chin. You blinked at him, frozen in place for a second as he continued to stare into your eyes, still out of breath as he continued, “This is not what I want. You...Shouldn’t be breaking yourself to help me.”

You offered a soft smile to him, gently holding his wrist in your hand as you did something you absolutely hated.

You lied to him.

“I’m okay,” You said, keeping your tone calm and soothing as you began to wrap bandages around his body. Inside you were already counting the moments. Five hours and fifty-five minutes, thirty seconds. Twenty-nine seconds. You had that much time to get him back to how he was, “I called upon my deity to help, but I can only do it once. He bought me some time and extra energy."

V stared at you in concern still, seeming unconvinced. His eyes closed despite that, wincing as you wrapped the wound. You were glad this bed was clean, with a blanket and fitted sheets. You held the back of his head as you eased him back, Shadow jumping onto the bed with a worried look in their bright red eyes. They curled up beside V, head resting on big paws as they watched their master take rasping breaths. You pulled the blanket over him, hands still shaky as you smoothed the black hair out of his face. He was still hurt badly; you’d have to time this right.

“Just rest and let me take care of things,” You murmured to him, watching his eyes tiredly open again, "I'll heal you a few times an hour, not too much. Just focus on resting.”

You stood to get up, letting go of his hand to search around the apartment a bit. But you felt him grip your wrist again, stopping your momentum before you could even take a step.

You looking back down at him, surprised at the expression he wore. His face was...frightened. The look he gave you reminded you of a child—so vulnerable, more vulnerable than you had ever seen him. You met his jade gaze, feeling his hand squeeze your wrist as much as he could must. If you weren’t mistaken, his fingers were trembling. And that broke you a bit, heart hammering and aching at the same time. That feeling came back to you, the feeling that V had not been given enough support growing up. Being sick, being hurt...They were terrible things to go through without a shoulder to lean on. Especially while young. He said he had lost a mother, and made no mention of a father. You were willing to bet he had been hurt before, only this time you were here to support him.

And he wasn’t used to that.

“Please don’t leave me,” He rasped, making you suck in a sharp breath. You were sure Griffon did as well, the bird quiet for once in his life. V took another shaking breath, voice weak and tired as he added, “Please, Y/N.”

Feeling like your heart was breaking into a million pieces, you sat back on the bed, leaning against the headboard next to him and slipping your hand into his. You squeezed gently, offering him a soft smile as you kept holding on.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You promised, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, “I was going to look around for some towels, but that can wait. We’re all drenched.”

“I've got it." Griffon said with a grunt, causing you both to look at him as he flapped his wings and went gliding to the bathroom door. You smiled—he would have to figure out how to turn a knob on his own.

You turned your eyes back to V, watching in relief as he closed his eyes again, relaxing now that you were sitting with him. His hand was colder than usual, fingers still trembling a bit. You focused your energy, giving him a small dose of healing to try and ease his pain. Just a little bit, one small piece at a time. He released a light sigh at the sensation, hand squeezing yours and making your heart patter excitedly. You mentally scolded yourself, wanting to groan at your own state of being affection starved. Even just touching him in this small bit was making you happy, mingling with the absolute worry and fear him being injured caused. You wished you could hold his hand under better circumstances.

“Forgive me,” He murmured, making you blink in surprise. He opened those jade eyes again, the vulnerability still there, “I fear I lean on you...far too much.”

You smiled at that, eyes gentle as you replied, “How fortunate for you, I love being leaned on,” You couldn’t help yourself—you stroked his hair back again, making a face when you realized it was still wet. You murmured a light spell to dry off as much of him as you could, just to make him more comfortable, “That’s why I am here.”

He let out another breath, slender chest rising and falling lightly, "You shouldn't have to bear my burdens. Not when this task was my burden alone to make right.”

You let out a gentle hum at that, closing your eyes and leaning your head back, "But I want to. And besides...you're my friend, and that makes your burdens mine," You smiled opening your eyes slightly and staring ahead as you recalled every moment aching and hoping, wishing you were close enough to people to be considered worth their time, “And being able to have a person I care enough about to bare their burdens...It feels nice.”

V went quiet, you could feel his gaze still on you.

When he finally replied, his tone was thoughtful, lilting, “Yet you keep all your burdens to yourself,” You looked at him, startled. His gaze met yours, far too searching and knowing as he gave you that half smile you were starting to adore with his voice breathy and soft, “You drift in and out a lot, you admit that things have hurt you. And yet...your lips remain tightly shut.”

You looked away, unable to find the words to reply. Probably only proving his point. He was right, you knew that. But you didn’t want him to see weakness, the pain of being useless a huge reminder you wanted to forget. It never left you, always there and clawing at your insides.

You only sent more energy into him, making him suck in a sharp breath and continue.

“You are by far the strangest woman I have met,” He said with a pained chuckle, closing his eyes again, “Yet that’s easily the most comforting thing in my existence right now.”

You noticed he said “existence” and not “Life.” Still, his words made you feel warm, from your toes to your ears. Your lies and half-truths were daggers in your chest, digging in every time you breathed. You closed your eyes too, wishing desperately that you could cry, that you could break down. You needed it, craved it, ached for it. It had been so long since you outright sobbed, broke down and shattered. It was now occurring to you that you and V were two broken individuals tap-dancing around trauma, trying to find peace any way you could. Wanting to reach out with arms chained by broken memories. And that wasn’t fair, not after everything you had faced. Why deny yourself the things that made you happy?

You leaned down, pressing a small kiss to V’s forehead. You heard him suck in a small breath, but his eyes didn’t open. His hand squeezed yours, steady now. No longer trembling.

“Get some rest,” You murmured, “Please? For me. I promise I’ll still be here.”

He let out a low, tired hum, resting his body fully on the sheets. You counted heartbeats, watching him with a gentle expression as you shared a small, quiet moment with him. He was by far the most fascinating person you had met. There was something mesmerizing about him, watching his face relax into sleep. Eyelashes resting on pale skin, hair brushed back from his forehead. His face took on a soft expression, peaceful now that he was away from pain. You let out a slow breath, putting your free hand to your mouth now that you had a moment to process what you had done. Christ in heaven. You couldn’t believe you had kissed his head.

And worse, you couldn’t believe you wanted to do it again.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear Griffon approach. He landed softly on the bed, dropping a towel from his beak and whispering at you.

“You think I didn’t see that?” He caroled quietly, making you jump a little, “My eyes see all, toots. And I’ve seen enough to know you’ve got it bad.”

You flushed a little, grabbing the towel with your free hand and tossing Griffon a dirty look as you hissed, “Wake him and die, bird. Also, mind your own birdie business.”

Griffon huffed, perching himself on the end of the bed’s frame, “It is my business, it's totally my business,” He sounded downright delighted, evil even, “Two whole days huh? That must be a record."

You threw the towel at him once you finished drying V’s bare upper half, the bird dodging it easily with a chuckle.

“Hey, I’m not judging,” He quipped, picking the towel up with his talons, a glint in those golden eyes, "You need a wingman? I'll volunteer, just for you toots. Nothing would please me more.”

“One more word,” You warned quietly, gently releasing V's hand so you could stand without jostling him, “And I’ll hand you over to Nico.”

Luckily enough, once he entered sleep it was deep. His chest was rising and falling steadily, lips parted enough to make you want to...

Bad thoughts.

You shook your head, quietly doing a run through of the air as Griffon chuckled to himself. Luckily, Shadow was quiet support on the bed, keeping V warm and making sure he wasn’t disturbed. You appreciated that.

You kept up a cycle of sorts for a few hours. You would look through the apartment, picking up small things you would need as you went. The bathroom first—you tested the shower, disappointed to find no water came out. Whatever, you would live. There was a medkit in the bathroom, along with a few other small things you tucked into your bag. Part of you felt bad, but you doubted the person who lived here would miss it. After searching one place, you’d go back to heal V, humming the tune to the Drunken Whaler as you did. He woke up a couple of times, but always fell back asleep as soon as you were there.

Three more hours.

By the time you hit the halfway point, it was darkness outside. You found several candles around the place, along with what looked to be a camping lantern under the bathroom sink. You kept the room illuminated dimply, not wanted to risk hurting yourself in the darkness of night. It must have been midnight by now, the rain still falling steadily. You checked the kitchen, finding bottles of water and various other cans of food. Just what you needed. Those were tucked away as well, but you left some water on the bedside table for the next time V woke up. Opening the fridge was a mistake--you gagged at rotting food. No electricity here either. Oh well. Meanwhile, Griffon watched your process in amusement, making quips here and there about you and your "crush". You ignored them for the most part.

Two hours.

You weren’t feeling tired, but you knew that was the deal your Deity made with you keeping you energized. You took the time to strip off your boots and socks, changing in the bathroom into the shirt and panties Nico had given you. You sighed in relief, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your legs were a little bruised from fighting, illuminated by florescent lights. You looked at your face, having not seen it in a long time. You rarely looked at your reflection—it startled you sometimes. There were moments it didn’t feel like you, like a stranger was staring back. But those lips opened when yours did, those eyes blinked. Your hair was still damp, wavy now as you ran a hand through it and pulled it over one shoulder. This was still you.

You dried your shorts, pulling them back on and deciding to let the other stuff air dry. You had more important things to focus on.

One hour.

You healed V more and more, checking on his bandage and relieved to find the wound was well on its way to being fully sealed. Scar tissue was there now, pink and jagged on the edges. So close, just one more hour of healing. You wanted to make sure he was at least functional before then. Luckily, he had spent a good portion of the time resting, drinking water and doing what you asked. Nervousness and regret squeezed you—time was almost up and he was going to know you lied. You felt terrible, guilty. But you didn’t want him worried while healing. You tried not to dwell on it.

In the remaining hour you checked the landline phone, disappointed when it didn’t work. You were meant to meet Nico hours earlier—you hoped they hadn’t left yet, or that she wasn’t angry. Some things just always managed to get in the way, it would seem. You let out a sigh, sitting down gently on the bed and transferring some more healing energy. You stretched, joints popping with the motion. Griffon chuckled again, drawing your attention to him.

“Y’know,” He shook his head, tone oddly soft, “You sure are somethin’.”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

He jerked his beak in V’s direction, making you look at his sleeping form.

“I’ve been with Shakespeare for a whole month,” Griffon scoffed quietly, shaking out his feathers, "The poor bastard is shut up tighter than my asshole. A complete fucking enigma. Yet here you are, working tirelessly to heal up his pretty boy ass, showing a molecule of human decency and he falls to pieces. And stranger still, you fucking enjoy it.”

He shook his head, letting out a short, quiet laugh.

“You humans sure are somethin’,” He peered at you, golden gaze steady and searching, “But you’re more than some garden variety human.”

That made your heart pick up, hands resting on your lap as you looked away.

When you replied, your tone was soft, filled with a regret building for more years than you could count.

“I was once,” You whispered, eyes staring at your feet, “I was once and it was so terrible I felt to pieces. And now I’m here, and I’m more. And all I want...is to be loved. And to help others.”

Griffon paused at that, shaking his head again. He let out a light laugh. You heard him flap lightly, landing on your shoulders and gently pressing his face to the side of yours. You blinked in surprise at the tender action, gently cupping his beak and nuzzling back. Something about the motion made you want to cry, eyes burning a little as you closed them again.

“You and Shakespeare really are somethin’,” Griffon muttered softly, tone still gruff yet also gentle, “Cut from that same damn cloth, haunted by nightmares. A damn shame, if you ask me.”

You smiled softly, gently scratching the side of his head, “It isn’t all bad. My suffering led me to you all.”

Griffon let out a snort, nipping your cheek lightly as he grunted, “Bold of you to assume meeting me is anything but a curse, toots.”

That made you giggle a bit, mouth opening a bit to reply.

You didn’t get the chance.

Time is up.

Agony slammed into you like a thousand razors cutting through your chest and stomach, sending you forward as you doubled over and landed on the floor. Griffon squawked in alarm, barely managing to catch you from falling forward again. All the energy, all the power was gone from you in an instant, body collapsing under the weight of agony and fatigue and... everything. You were wheezing, barely able to breath and room tilting back and forth. You couldn’t focus, you couldn’t feel your legs. And worse, you felt bile rising steadily in your throat, stomach churning like the sea in a storm. You were going to hurl, and you couldn’t stop it.

You tried to stand, barely able to hear Griffon yelling at you, asking you if you were alright. You couldn’t focus. The Void was whispering, screaming in your ear as you tried to rise, hand pressed to your mouth. You stumbled, Griffon catching you and somehow managing to help you to the bathroom in enough time to puke. You bypassed the toilet, collapsing over the tub and releasing the contents of your stomach, over and over. Bile first, then eventually a familiar and unwelcome taste entered your mouth. Disgusting, making you gag more even as the disgusting liquid left you, glowing a light, eerie blue as it splattered into the tub. Whale oil—you had exerted so far you were vomiting bile from the Void, body shaking and alight with pain.

Griffon was panicking, landing next to you as you vomited a couple more times, wheezing and choking on your own stomach contents.

“God damn it!” He shrieked, nosing your face with his beak as you weakly lifted your head, “Fuck! What’s happening to you?! What the fuck happened?! Fuck, fuck this isn’t good—please tell me what to do!”

You had never heard him this scared, but you couldn’t reply. You were fading out.

You lifted one trembling hand as you slid down by the tub, seeing blackness spreading through your veins, under your skin. Your pallor was so pale it was almost grey, heart thudding in your ears and body so full of pain it drowned out every other thing. Griffon’s screeches faded into the distance as your eyes closed, breath coming in short gasps as you heard him yelling for V. But you couldn’t stop him.

This is the price you pay. With a reminder of pain.

All you felt was nothingness.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193/chapters/43068227

Tagged: @silentwhispofhope @just-call-me-no-name @slightlylunatic @nightshadow4713 @efiicitia

#devil may cry v #devil may cry #dmc v #dmc 5 #dmcv #V dmc #V #V x reader #v x self insert #Fanart #chapter 8 #ebony and ivory #ebony and ivory chapter 8

175 notes · View notes

imfucking-magical · 7 years

Text

Awoken pt.2

A/n Here is part 2 lovelies

Warnings: Swearing probably and some fluff

My body felt heavy and cold as I squinted against a bright light.

“Y/n?” My heart raced. Steve? It hurt to open my eyes more, but I wanted to know if my mind was playing tricks on me.

“Steve?” The light that was shining in my eyes went away and a nurse was in front of me with Steve sitting at the foot of my bed.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Steve told me smiling.

“Where is dad? Where is Peggy? What happened to the Hydra agents? How did we escape? How did you know where I was? Is dad ok?”

“Whoa whoa slow down a bit there kiddo. There is alot of explaining to do and I have to give it to you slowly because its a lot to take in.” Steve told me trying to calm me down. I looked around and there were strange things in the room. “I will give you the big news first before I answer all of you’re questions.”

“What big news? Steve where are we?” The nurse prodded at my back with her stethoscope.

“Breathe.” She instructed

“And why do I have a nurse inspecting me?”

“Y/n…. what was the last thing you remember?”

“Peggy and I were on a rescue mission to shut down a Hydra base where they were experimenting on people to create superhumans. I got cut off from Peggy and heard dad’s name and saw him. He…. he had a metal arm and then I was attacked from behind from a small ugly dude and I blacked out.”

“First of all, you are grounded for not telling us that you became an agent with Peggy. Second of all…. what happened was many decades ago.”

I looked at Steve like he was stupid. “This is one of you’re jokes isn’t. Oh you were out cold for years when in reality it’s only been like a week right? And we somehow ended up at Stark’s place? I’m guessing all the gadgets in this room are his inventions.”

“Y/n I’m not joking this time. Hydra froze you. You were frozen. I was frozen after defeating the main branch of Hydra and your dad was frozen as well. Its 2014. That is a tv.” He pointed to the thin rectangle on the wall.

My face dropped when I realized that he wasn’t joking. “Where is Peggy?” Steve sighed. She was gone. I never got to say goodbye to her. I screwed up our mission because I let my emotions interfere.

“You said dad was frozen too. Does that mean he’s still alive?”

“That’s actually why they woke you up. I didn’t even know that you were frozen.”

“Who is they?”

“A group called the Avengers. Mr.Stark’s son Tony is part of it and so are many others. They found you and woke you up because…. well Hydra had done some things to your dad. We’ve figured out that they had trigger words to make him act like… well go crazy and destroy things.”

“So where do I come into this?”

Steve stared at me blankly. “You’re taking this very well.”

“Steve my dad is alive and so are you. I mean I would’ve preferred that Peggy was here too, but I know that you’ve got my back.” He smiled.

“You’re going to be part of the Avengers. They woke you up because maybe you could snap your dad out of his trigger words long enough to get him back to the tower to make sure he won’t do damage again and have him join the Avengers as well.”

“Do they know where he might be?”

“Yea. You might want to get dressed first. There are some clothes in the bathroom for you. Warning though. Some of the fabrics are weird.”

I stood up and walked into the bathroom to change. He was right about the clothes

It was about a week before there was any news on dad and in that time I got to know all of the avengers. Nat took a liking to me right away and with her came along Clint. We practiced together and Nat showed me more modern moves that added to my skill set. Everyone started to help me settle into a life of technology. Mr.Stark’s son Tony had all the cool gadgets however so I was always hanging around him to see what new stuff he was doing. He was the one to actually pick up something on my dad.

“There!” He pointed at the screen from security footage. “He’s getting plums.”

“Well he’s an old man he’s probably having dietary issues.” I joked.

“He’s the same age he was when you two were frozen.”

“Yea ok where is he?”

“Pretty close actually. Go get ready we’re getting in the jet.”

Soon we were across the country in some slums.

“Everyone split up into pairs. He’s armed and dangerous. Y/n you’re with me.” Steve told everyone and we headed into a run down building.

“Do you think this is going to work?”

“It has to. It’s the only way to get Buck back without harming him.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll have to use force.”

THUMP

“Did you hear that?” I asked him stopping on the stairs. There was quiet until the door next to me flew off its hinges and a figure came running out. Steve pushed passed me and ran after him. I got all the way to the roof before I caught up to them.

On the roof they were both putting up a good fight. Steve relied on his shield every time dad tried to hit him with his metal arm making Steve’s feet to dig into the roof.

“DAD!” I shouted across the roof and he kicked Steve in the stomach sending him flying then he started to walk over to me. He pulled a gun out of its holster and started to shoot at me. Quickly I dodged and flipped out of the way until he ran out of bullets.

“Dad stop. It’s me! Y/n! Your daughter!” I told him running towards him and met him in the middle with him swinging. I quickly maneuvered behind him and jumped on his back trying to hold his arms behind his head, but settled for his hair.

“You should really put your hair up or let me braid this shit dad.” I told him while staying on his back pulling on his hair. He kept swinging trying to get me until he finally decided to body slam me into the wall and before I could move he slammed his non metal arm into me causing me to double over.

He started to walk away as I spit blood.

“You know who I am don’t you? That’s why you didn’t kill me by hitting me with your metal arm.” I told him leaning against the rooftop wall for support while holding my stomach. He didn’t react.

“You are my sunshine.” I said and he stopped. “My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey.” He slowly turned to face me as I still held my stomach, but I kept going. He had to remember our song.

“You’ll never know dear how much I love you….”

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.” He finished and paused in front of me.

“Dad?”

“Y/n… I thought they killed you.” He wrapped his arms around me.

“We need to get you back to the tower to get your arm under control.”

“No Y/n I can’t… I can’t hurt any more people.”

“Dad I’ve seen the stuff Stark has. He can fix your arm and get rid of the words.”

“No you need to go you’re still just a kid.”

“Dad Uncle Steve can even vouch for me.”

“That’s true Bucky.” Steve walked over to us. “If not we can figure it out. Just come back with us. You can join the team and fight for good.”

He looked skeptical.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.” I told him and he sighed and nodded.

I was finally going to have my dad back.

Sorry for some of the inaccuracies guys. Its been awhile since I’ve watched the movies and this is also an au so there are things that are different. Also yes that song sung came out in the 40s which I did not know and I thought it was cute so yea I put it in there for some fluff.

Permanent tag list: @softbbyboye, @frostbyte-horan, @allison0609, @gothamsblackqueen, @kisshuggay, @ginger-wayward-assbutt, @thefridgeismybestie, @lexibc

Temporary tag list: @goldhat-coolcat, @kitty31177, @randommostlypotter, @nadinissavage, @skyfoxx186, @arachn0ph0bia, @je-ss-i-ca

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from a taglist and/or if you guys have requests. Don’t be scared to message me! I enjoy hearing back from you guys and I can do prompts you send in.

59 notes · View notes

the1rei · 7 years

Text

Bloomin' Ross pt36

Cass plan is put into action as pirates finally come upon the ship. New length champion at near 2700 words. Darn these are getting long.

<<< First Post <<Prev Post - Next Post >>

"Why do I have to be the one up here?" Eugene called down from the castle waving a sizable white cloth tied to a staff at the approaching ship, its black flag marking it as a pirate ship.

"Stop talking and looking down here before they figure out what's going on!" Cass answered in a harsh whisper glaring from Eugene to the ship that was only now slowing in its approach as it began a listless turn to bring its hall against theirs.

Cass ducked her head back under the deck and turned to find Rapunzel, Rose, and Max who looked anxious behind her. Well, except for Max, who frowned in grim determination a sword held in his teeth. "You all remembered how it happened last time," They nodded and above Cass could hear Eugene shouting something overly friendly greeting to the pirates asking for assistance. "They'll secure us with grappling hooks first then set out the planks when they do we'll take out one. That'll funnel their forces. Raps you stay to the back, Max you watch out for her."

"Right," Rapunzel and Rose said at once, and Max snorted nodding his head. The clanging rain for grappling hooks on wood caused them all to tense with anticipation. The boat lurched as the ropes were pulled taut and Cass' stomach swam a little. She clenched her teeth and forced down the sickness, deeper in the hold Fidello whinnied sorrowfully causing Max to look back worriedly.

"Fidello will be alright Max; you have to stay with us." Rapunzel laid a hand on his side and looked up at him apologetically. The stallion nodded, and the sound of planks slamming down onto the deck came down from above.

"Now!" Cass called, and they charged up from the hold, but as the old saying went the first casualty of any battle was the plan. Cass' eyes shot wide as she saw three planks set out between the ships, not two. She hesitated for a moment her brain screaming for an idea.

"Pyrepy burn that plank," Rose voice cut through Cass' thoughts like a knife and she saw the blacksmith and her fiery canine companion run for opposite planks. The pup reached his first and with a deep breath blew a gout of flames across the dry plank. The pirates already halfway across skidded to a stop as the wall of flames surged across their access point. The one behind collided with the ones in front, and they began falling over each other. Cries ended in heavy splashes as they fell to the open water below the ship.

Rose reached the other plank a split second after her pup reached his and as they had planned she gripped the end and began lifting it, her muscles straining as the men on the plank weighed it down. Some lost their balance and fell, but others pressed forward. Cass rushed to Rose's side, and Rapunzel arrived a moment later, and with a collective pull, they dragged the plank free of the pirate ship's deck. The was another echo of cries as the girl released the plank and it and its occupants dropped into the water below.

It was a minor victory as the pirates came surging over the remaining plank. Rose and Cass turned on the pirate hoard and drew their swords, putting themselves between the pirates and the Princess.

Swords rang out as they clashed usually followed by the sound of a solid fist striking flesh. Rose defected a blade her heavy boot knocking the air from a pirates stomach, Cass steeping around her to catch another pirate's sword bracing the flat of her blade against her palm and shoving over the deck with a strong push. Rose's pommel thumped into a pirate's skull as he charged at Cass' back before the pair stepped past each other to parry blades intended for the other's back.

Max was a fury, the sword in his mouth flashed moving more like a whirling beam of light then a weapon catching weapons two at a time. Even Cass felt a little sorry for the pirate flung across the deck by his bucking hooves.

Behind him Eugene and Rapunzel took care of whatever riff-raff slipped past the others, Eugene sword catching the deadly blades and Rapunzel's frying pan sending them to an abrupt dreamland.

A loud yelp drew Rose attention to the burning plank; a few brave pirates had leaped the flames and made it to the deck. Emboldened by their comrade's success other's now came over, only for the weakened burning plank to fall out from beneath them. But one that had made it across held the pup by the throat in one hand. "Pyrepy!" Rose raced to the pup's rescue unnecessary as it was as the pup burst into flames and the terrified pirate tossed him away cradling his burnt hand.

"Rose!" Cass called to her battle partner, but before she could reach the other girl's side, a large figure dropped down between them.

Dressed in what must have been a fine brown leather long coat the portly man had one pegged leg, the opposite hand was a hook, he wore a black tricorn hat and sported a scraggly beard. One eye was a cold blue, and the other had a scar drawn across it was a pale white. "Ye should be worryin' 'bout yerself lass." He spittled through gaps in his yellow teeth as he released the rope he had swung over on and snatched a curved sword from his side.

Cass narrowed her and swung who she guessed the be the captain; his blade slapped hers away with enough force to leave her arm feeling weak then shot up for her throat so quickly Cass had to retreat a step to save herself. As soon as the blade had passed, she rocked forward on the balls of her feet and attacked again swiping out on his hook side this time knowing his peg-leg would be hard to maneuver on. Instead, his hook hand shot up and caught the blade. Cass' eyes went wide, and suddenly, faster than she thought to be possible for the large lame man, he closed in on her, his hook scraping along Cass' blade. She tried to pull away but found she could; the pirate captain had gotten his hook across the crossbar of her sword.

He clucked down at her as Cass' hand pulled at the sword, unwilling to release it to the pirate captain's grasp. The captain didn't attack Cass his eyes sweeping across the deck appraisingly. He saw a couple of his pirates struggling with the sword-wielding horse, and the long-haired Rapunzel toss her hair up to one of the yardarms her eyes fixed worriedly on him.

"Lash," The captain said as a tall, handsome man with raven hair and green eyes dropped next to the captain singing on a whip which fell back to his hand in a neat coil with just a flick of his wrist. "Take care of that beast."

"Aye Captain," The man nodded and strode towards Max the way Cass might have strode up to another servant.

"Cong!" The captain looked over his shoulder; all the other pirates stood away from the connecting plank as a huge monstrous figure started across it. Cass would be hard-pressed even to call it human just a massive furry body with no face. "Why done you have some fun with the golden-haired one." The most unexpected giggling rose out of the figure, and it stopped three-quarters of the way across the plank.

Cass thought for a moment she saw a pair of tiny eyes open on the creature's head, then suddenly sets of eyes shot open all over the figure and she couldn't help but shutter. Suddenly Cong's body flew apart, and Cass realized what each set of eyes was as a hoard of monkey's surged past her leavy an unbelievably scrawny man behind an armed raise as he pointed to Rapunzel, "Go play with her pretty, pretty hair."

"Let's see if you can remember you place horse." With a flourish, Lash's whip cut through the air at Max, but the stallion just stepped forward swinging his sword and slicing the stinging end of the whip off. He watched it drop to the deck with a satisfied snort but looked back up to find Lash gone. Suddenly, the pirate dropped onto Max's back, and the remaining length of the whip was thrown across the horse's neck and pulled tight constricting around the stallion's throat. "That's sword's not much good now huh?" Lash mocked, but he was right, Max could turn the sword on a rider, and he felt unable to breathe right.

The monkey surged past the horse leaping at Rapunzel as she attempted to swing herself up by her hair. One grabbed her barefoot it's strong finger holding on tight as the other monkey grabbed hold of its tail. Rapunzel cried suddenly finding herself too heavy to swing away and dropped back to the deck. "Eugene!" she cried out as the monkeys descended on her like a furry mob.

"Hey, get away from her," Eugene ran towards the pile, only to suddenly have a length of Rapunzel's hair shoot out and wrap around his sword. With a surprising strong tug, the sword was ripped from his hand and tossed away, a second length captured his wrist and with an even stronger tug, drew him into the pile.

With a twist, Cass pulled her sword free of the distracted captain's hook. She growled, he had been ignoring her, like she was no threat at all, it was worse than being beaten by him, he was acting like she was no threat at all. Cass shook the worst of the anger off, she needed to be clear-headed, she underestimated the lame man, but he was a skilled swordsman, and she couldn't afford any more mistakes. However, it was then that, as it is want to do, the ocean suddenly shifted and the change in motion throat through Cass like a blow. Her stomach churned violently, her intestines spasmed, and Cass had to fight to keep herself from retching, it all zapped her strength, and suddenly it was hard to stand.

The pirate captain looked almost confused for a moment; then he smiled wide showing his yellow teeth. "Aye, I see what we have here, yer just a sickly little landlubber." He chuckled and kept a grip on her sword and glared up hatefully at him; it was all she could manage. "Well don't worry lass I got an ol' pirate ready for that," He said raising his sword, "Tell ol' Davy Jones that Captin Wylie sent ya."

"Cassandra!" Cass heard the cry before she saw Rose dive between her and Wylie. She had her sword up, but Wylie's sword slammed into her's with such force that it drove Rose's sword back into her shoulder. The blacksmith crashed to the deck with a cry of pain as her brown shirt grew dark then a deep red across the shoulder. Cass' will gave out, and her sword clanked to the deck as she dropped down and wrapped her around Rose's chest. Cass cradled Rose in her lap and as the other girl writhed in pain from the fresh wound.

The Captain just chuckled again, "Two fer the price of one, oh happy day." He raised his sword again posed to skewer them both when suddenly there was a defining snapping sound and a thump as the captain lost his balance. Cass and rose looked down to an arrow buried in the deck, the captain's pegleg broken in half.

The captain fell to his knees, and this time the pair heard the sound of something cutting through the air. The sound of snapping rope caught up to their ears, and Cass turned back to see one end of Lash's whip come way free in his hand. Max heaved in a breath of air and bucked violently throwing the now unsecured man from his back.

"No not now," Wylie cursed and looked back in time to see the sails of his ship burst into black smoke billowing flames. Out of the corner or his eye, he saw some creature flapping around obscured by the fire and the flames. He heard it more than he saw it as the smoke poured across the decks faintly obscuring everything. There was a heavy swoosh, and thump Wylie looked up to see a figure standing over him, a wild figure in a brown fur clock and a main of hair to match their face covered in an eerie mask that made their face look flat. The captain swung out at the figure who suddenly caught Wylie sword with their own which had suddenly appeared in the figure's scaly hand, its blade tinted green. Sparks flew from the clash, and the figure's sword burst into flames. Wylie jumped in fear at the sudden flames, and the figure's foot swung out and kicked the sword from his hand. "Kill 'em, ye wretched seadogs!"

The pirates hesitated for a moment and jumped as a gout of flames that made Pyrepy's look like a torch flame, shot out across the back of Rapunzel's ship. Everyone searched for whatever had attacked, but all they heard was another whoosh of the wind. Suddenly the hoard of monkey's raced across the deck back to the safety of their master; several tails licked by tiny flames.

The figure didn't wait another moment for the pirate; they leaped into a group of them knocking one down with a slam of their shoulder. The immediate danger spurred the pirates into action, but the figure was almost supernatural in how it fought. Impossible fast, explosions of fire dazing pirates before they could strike, Cass could almost swear she could see smudges of green in the air the figure would slice with its flaming sword before causing the bursts of fire. Soon, what pirates remained on their feet ran for the safety of their burning ship. Suddenly the pirate ship surged up in the water knocking several of the fire-fighting pirates to the deck.

"Looks like I won't be takin' another part of you today Onesie." The figure spoke, the nature of their voice impossible to discern through the muffling of the mask. The figure grabbed one of the grappling hooks the had fallen loose of the banister and hooked it onto the captain's jacket.

The pirate ship surged unnaturally away from Rapunzel's ship and dragged Wylie over the side, "I'll kill ye ya bas-" Wylie curse cried up from over the ship and were cut short with a splash.

The figure turned back to face Cass and the other's again as the pirate ship plunged through the water away from them. Cass realized that Rapunzel and Eugene had come up behind them the Princess' hair disheveled and Eugene still trying to untie a length of it from his arm. "Yer safe now friends," the figure reassured, though Cass silently eyed them suspiciously.

"Thank you~!" Rapunzel had no such suspicions as she raced past Cass and practically jumped at the stranger throwing her arms around their neck laughing with relief. The stranger's laugh joined the Princess', their arms wrapping around her returning the tight hug.

Finally, Rapunzel released the stranged her who continued to chuckle reaching for their mask, "Och lass that's the best thank I've ever gotten savin' someone befer." As the mask came away it was clear the stranger was a woman, a pretty one too who looked down at Rapunzel with smiling green eyes. "The name's Ardra!"

#tangled the series #cassandra #rose #cassandrose #ross

3 notes · View notes