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underburningstars · 2 years

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Wow can't believe l actually finished this one. It's been in my wips for a long time. I have only posted my starker fics so far. So I'm a bit nervous about this one. Hope everyone likes it.

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Pairing : Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Warnings :Canon Divergence, Temporary Character Death, Mpreg, Sentinel AU, mention of deaths, hand wavey science, violence. (Tell me if I need to add something more).

Words : 16K (m'so proud)

on ao3

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Right when the video starts playing, Steve knows that his whole life is about to fall apart.

“Don’t bullshit me Rogers. Did you know?”

Rogers. Not honey or babe. Not even Steve. Rogers.

For a moment he thinks about lying. Saying that he didn’t know. That he’s seeing this for the first time too. But he feels his insides churn even for thinking about lying to Tony again. There’s only one thing left to do now. He just hopes Tony takes it all out in him instead of Bucky.

“Yes.”

The blow that comes is expected. But the amount of strength Tony used wasn’t. Right then standing in front of him wasn’t the man he loves, the one who loved him through everything, not the man he thought he’d one day have a family with. Right in front of him was someone who was on the opposite side of the war, an enemy. An enemy who Steve has to protect Bucky from.

So he hits and keeps hitting. And by the time he brings the shield down, his world is already destroyed.

After that all of Steve’s senses were going haywire. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. Everything is too overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time. He can sense pain, betrayal, hurt and fear. So much fear. But these feelings are not his own.

It hurts.

He looks down and sees his shield plunged deep into Tony’s arc reactor, the familiar whiskey eyes Steve loves so much looking up at him. And it all clicks. Oh, he…he’s scared of me. His blood runs cold. Steve thinks the universe must be laughing at him right now. He destroyed the one thing he should’ve protected with his life.

He gets off Tony, picks Bucky up and leaves the Shield back. He doesn’t deserve it. He feels hollow. Like all his senses have turned off. Not the comfortable calm that Tony brought him every time he got overwhelmed. No, this was different. Like the part of him that was responsible for feeling anything was missing . As if he’s body refuses to feel anything without Tony. His other half.

Steve feels numb. As though everything around him has blurred away. He know he’s sitting in the Quinjet heading towards Wakanda but he feels disconnected with it all. Bucky is sitting right there too. Injured but alive. He wanted to have his friend back for so long. But at what cost?

Everything. It cost me my world.

Right before the Quinjet lands his gaze falls down to his shaking hands. He clenched them hard to stop the tremor. Now that no one’s there to hold them for him.

He doesn’t cry. Not even when he washed the blood off his hands. Tony’s blood his brain helpfully supplies. But when he lies down on the comfortable yet unfamiliar bed at night he can’t help but feel the wrongness of it all. The weight of a head on his chest, mop of unruly brown hair tucked under his chin, the soft glow and buzz of the arc reactor. It all gone. He lost it all.

Forever.

That’s when he finally let’s himself break down.

In the morning he tries to hide the fact that he had cried himself to sleep the previous night. But by the look Bucky gives him, he realizes he didn’t do that good of a job.

He doesn’t let himself think about it. He has friends to break out of jail and plans to make. If he let’s himself think about the whole mess, he in no way will be in the slightest bit of functional. This is something he’ll think about late at night when he’s alone with no one to judge him for his tears.

He breaks the rest of them out of the Raft. Buys a flip phone (which Tony would call ancient disaster if he were there). Writes about a hundred letters – some too obscured with tears – and sends one.

The letter was the absolutely horrible. It didn’t show half the things Steve wanted to tell him. It probably made things even worse. Steve knew that. But he had to let Tony know that no matter what happened between them, he’ll always be there for him. Even if Tony didn’t want him there anymore.

Wakanda treated them extremely well, considering all that happened. They had a place to stay, food to eat and also a space to train. A few days into staying there Natasha joined them too. As much as he is glad to see her he can’t help but wonder that who’s there with Tony.

Bucky is having a hard time. He can see it. Sometimes he looks lost, forgets fragments of his memory, sometimes he takes a long time to recognize Steve. So he isn’t really surprised when he wants to go back to the cryo again. He never liked half-assing anything.

He carries the phone with him all the time. He knows it’s not healthy. But just can’t bear the thought of letting it go out of his sight even for a second. It’s the last bit of connection he has with Tony. He needs to have this.

Wakanda has been nothing but hospitable towards them. But it’s time for them to leave. The reason he didn’t want to sigh the accords was because he wanted to help people without anything binding him and holding him back. That’s exactly what he and the rest of the team are going to do now.

Being on the run isn’t easy. It’s shitty motel rooms, even shittier food and lots of sudden bouts of depression. Although compared to him all the others are coping much better. The only one who can slightly relate to him is Wanda and Clint. But Steve knows she meets Vision sometimes. And Clint regularly talks to his family.

He wishes he could have that.

They are in Germany right now. It was a fairly easy mission considering it was a small HYDRA base without too much security. But for Steve this day is nothing better than hell. His limbs hurt, head pounding, his ears are ringing. He’s surprised he’s not bleeding from his ears, yet. It’s getting harder to breathe, lungs contracting in a way it hadn’t even on his worst asthma attacks.

He knows it’s because of being away for too long from his bonded. It’s been two months since Siberia. The first month he could still distinctly feel bits of Tony’s emotions although Tony did a great job at building a shield around. The soulbond isn’t really that complicated. Just constant contact even just emotional is enough to stay healthy.

But it’s been so long without any kind of proximity with Tony that the bond has started to feel scared and abandoned. Steve thinks it’s ironic as he’s the one who abandoned Tony. But the bond doesn’t understand that. It’s feeling threatened and just wants its mate close. Like Steve wants anything else.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?” Nat’s voice is uncharacteristically soft. Although she’s also a Sentinel so she at least knows that it can be extremely painful. That’s the reason Scott left and is serving house arrest. At first he wondered how he got off with such a small penalty. But he soon understood that it must’ve been Tony.

He thought Clint would leave too. But he didn’t. He stuck with them even if he missed his family like crazy. In the very least, he got to talk to Laura and the kids regularly. That was good enough.

Sam and Wanda are Guides too. So when Nat feels overwhelmed, they help her. But that doesn’t work for him. He needs his bonded and instantly feels territorial if any other Guide tries to help him, increasing his pain ten fold.

“No. I’m feeling like shit.” Steve is in no condition to filter his words.

“Must be pretty bad if you’re admitting to it and you also cursed.”

“I think my ears will start bleeding if I even move an inch of my head.”

“Go to sleep okay? It’ll make you feel better.” Nat sighs. After a few more hours of pain and restlessness, his body is too exhausted to even feel the pain and falls into an uncomfortable unconsciousness.

That night doesn’t dream. No nightmares haunt him. But he hears a voice. A voice he’d give anything to hear again. But now he only feels dread.

Steve…

Help me, Steve.

Steve. Where are you? Help me. Save me please.

It hurts so much. Hurtshurtshurtshurts…

Steve!

He wake up with a jolt. He can’t breathe. There’s not enough oxygen in his lungs. His body is rigid. His enhanced senses are going erratic, sensing danger.

He suddenly feels nauseous. Bile rising up his throat. He runs to the washroom and throws up in the toilet. By the end his throat his burning and tears are pouring down his eyes. His body still in a defensive and rigid.

The voice was Tony’s. He knows it wasn’t Tony but the voice was. It was his soul searching for his soul mate. They’ve been out of contact for too long and the bond is feeling like it’s mate is in danger.

He can’t feel Tony’s emotions anymore – they have to imprint on each other at least once a month for that – but he can still feel a distant presence. Warm and alive. He’ll have to learn to live with that.

Watching Pepper announcing information what Tony was supposed to inform is a bit disconcerting. The last time Tony was seen on public was two month ago when he saved a ferry that split into two. Steve sometimes thinks of calling. However, he couldn’t gain courage. Even though it has been three months since Siberia.

Steve isn’t sure if he’s hallucinating or not. Maybe his desperate brain just made this up. But the flip phone ringing on his hands feel real. Perhaps Tony is drunk, a simple mistake. Or maybe he called to tell Steve how much he hates him. He’ll take anything he gets.

“Tony?”

“No, Captain. It’s me. Tony doesn’t know I’m calling. But I really need to talk to you.” Colonel Rhodes. Steve didn’t expect to get a call from Tony. But this is even more unexpected. Oh God, is he okay?

“What happened? Is everything alright? How’s Tony?” Okay, so yeah Steve was slightly panicking now. But what had happened that Rhodes needed to call him. That too without Tony’s knowledge.

Right then Natasha entered the room and came to an abrupt halt, eyes widening when she saw Steve talking on the flip phone. ‘Tony’ she mouthed towards the phone. Steve wishes he could say yes, but with a shake of his head he mouthed ‘Rhodes’.

“That’s what I need to talk to you about Cap. This might be a bit hard to hear but I need to stay calm. ” Steve’s heart his racing too fast but his hands have gone completely cold.

“Just spit it out already! What is it?” From the corner of his eyes he could see Natasha’s body going rigid. Worry lines starting to build on her face. Sam and Wanda had entered the room too, concern masking their faces.

“Tony, he-he’s pregnant.”

Tony already knew that his life was huge, horrible sitcom. But this is really something else. At first the whole emotional turmoil about Spencer, then the Accords, finding out that his bonded is actually a lying bastard and said bonded leaving him for his BFF. Steve is the epitome of ‘bros before hoes’.

For cherry on top, he’s pregnant. Voila!

The doctor is talking to him but he actually stopped listening to her after her big announcement. Mr. Stark you’re two weeks pregnant. Congratulations! He doesn’t know if he should actually be congratulated.

Now sitting on a stupid hospital bed he’s caressing his stomach where a little life is growing inside him. “Guess now it’s just you and me now sugarplum.”

Breaking the news to Rhodey and Pepper was surprisingly easy. As much as they looked shocked, they also looked like they expected something like this to happen all along.

The amount of NDAs Pepper has had people sighed in such a short notice is truly amazing. There is no way this news can get to Ross. And Rhodey has taken up full on overprotective little shit mode.

Tony still has to announce shit, show the world his lovely face and help the kid occasionally. But after a month of running around Rhodey has promptly locked him inside the tower. And to add to that, Pepper and Peter are helping him too. Traitors.

The first two months of pregnancy went quite well. He had horrible mood swings and absurd cravings but that happened to him even without the pregnancy. The amount of food he eats everyday worries him at times but the doctor said having twins does that to someone.

The third month, however, isn’t as pleasant. It happens while Peter is with him in his lab, working on his web shooters that Tony suddenly feels the world tilting sideways. If it wasn’t for Peter’s enhanced senses, he would’ve been screwed.

Now he’s laying on the hospital bed again, letting the doctor explain him what is going on.

“Your bonded is going into bond shock due to prolonged separation between the two of you. You would’ve felt the symptoms before but because of the pregnancy you’re health had been much better than most.”

“So what happens now?” Tony’s voice is carefully blank but now he’s feeling increasingly scared. No just for the baby but Steve too. Tony doesn’t know what it feels like. But he has heard enough about how bad bond shocks are. At that the doctor looked hesitant to speak.

“You need at least the minimum amount of connection with him right now. Otherwise, it could be dangerous for both the kinds and you.”

If there is a God then Tony is his biggest entertainment source. Connection the doctor said. But how? Steve left him and he’s trying so hard to live with that. But now even that seems impossible.

Rhodey’s eyes are boring into his head. He knows what Rhodey wants him to do. What he should do. But this isn’t that easy. Tony’s the one who got abandoned. He has to live with that along with all the international problems they are causing all over. He is the pregnant one. His kids are at risk. All because of a stupid super soldier.

He’s taking a big risk. He is used to his life being in danger. But right now it’s not only about him. He knows he can’t stall calling Steve anymore. He’s nearing his fourth month and his condition his not getting any better.

Pepper and Rhodey are constantly fussing over him. Even Peter has started looking worried. Yet, as he takes that ancient phone in his hands, his body weakens a d backs off. One more day. I’ll call him tomorrow. He wonders how long he can tell himself that.

Rhodey called him. That’s it. The cat’s out of the bag. Tony knows that he should be angry. That this is his life and he should’ve made that decision. But right now he just feels relieved that he didn’t have to go through ‘The Phone Call’ – what Peter calls it – himself.

Taking a deep breath he presses the ‘call’ button of the phone. The phone doesn’t even get the chance to ring before Steve picks it up.

“Tony?” Steve sighs, voice hopeful and desperate.

“Rogers.” Tony doesn’t want to fight. He’s too tired for that. But he can’t keep the ice out of his voice after all he went through.

He can hear Steve let out a shuddering breath, maybe from the memory of what happened during their last conversation. The silence stretches until he can’t take it anymore.

“I honestly promised myself that I’ll never use this phone. Do you feel happy, Cap? Now that you’re not alone in the promise breaking trope.”

“Yes, Tony I’m happy. I’m so glad you called. Rhodes…he told that--is it true? You’re—”

“Pregnant? Yeah I am. That’s the reason I’m calling. Since you left me…”

“Tony no—”

“…our bond is now strained and it’s effecting the kids. The doctor said we need the bare minimum contact to keep them healthy.” Tony didn’t let Steve interrupt. He’s had enough of people – Steve – walking all over him. He’s Tony fucking Stark and he’s not letting anyone push him down any longer. Bond or no bond.

“I-I’m…please Tony I’m sorry”

“I know Steve. I got your letter. It was a bit too formal for my taste. Not something you’d usually write to your bonded. I want to yell at you so much. But I can’t hurt the kids more.”

“You keep saying ‘kids’. Are we—you – having twins?” Steve’s voice was filled with an emotion Tony couldn’t decipher. It was unsettling.

“Yes Steve, I’m having twins. The fourth month is coming soon. I even have a medium sized bump now.” His hand automatically went to pet his belly. He never thought of having kids of his own. But now that they’re here, Tony can’t wait to hold them in his arms.

“Oh…” Steve’s voice was surprising small. He sounded more lost than Tony had ever heard him. It hurt to hear his voice so unsure. Steve was always the more emotionally stronger one in their relationship. Oh how the tables have turned. Tony thought sadly.

“I think that was enough for today, Cap. I’ll call again when necessary. Bye Steve.” To be honest, Tony’s proud of himself. He didn’t think he’d be able to have a civil conversation like this with Steve. The call also went longer than he expected.

“Bye Tony. Take care.” Steve sounded a bit dazed. Although he can’t be blamed for that. Too much information in such sort time. He guesses Steve will need some time to posses all this

“I will.” He will. He has to. No matter how much it hurts listening to Steve’s voice, he will do it. For this kids he’d do anything.

Rhodes had hanged up long ago but his words were still ringing clear in his head. Tony’s pregnant. He knows the others are still in the room waiting for an explanation, wanting to know what the call was about. Suddenly Natasha comes and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Steve, what did Rhodes say?” That breaks him out of the daze but he still can’t bring himself to look up at the others.

“It’s…Tony. He-he’s…” He swallows, not being able to say the word. He immediately feels Nat’s body going tense.

“What about Tony?” Nat inquired, her voice tight. “What happened to him Steve?” she demanded, voice low yet penetrating when he still didn’t answer.

“He’s pregnant.” He finally replied, his tone smaller than ever. He could instantly feel the tension in the room risen. Wanda’s eyes were wide and sad on him. Even Sam and Clint looked unsure and jittery. He could feel Nat’s hand tightening on his shoulder.

“Guys, give us a minute.” Nat said and the rest complied silently, leaving him and Nat alone in the room.

“What did Rhodes say? Tell me everything.” And so he did. He told her about Tony being pregnant. Him and the baby having issues because of the disturbed bond. How Tony needs minimal connection with me. How he’d call. Everything he knew he told her.

Through it all Nat was quiet. She heard him rant out everything to her and she didn’t interrupt her once. “The only issue Tony is facing is because of the troubled bond, right? And nothing else?” There was something in her tone that made him pause. Her voice was flat but the implication was heavy. Siberia. She’s talking about Siberia. Oh God, he was going to be sick. I almost killed my own child.

After that everyone left him alone. Sam wasn’t even the slightest bit subtle about wanting to talk to him but Steve wasn’t ready for this conversation at all. Especially, not when the anticipation of Tony’s call was killing him.

Talking to Tony was like drinking water for the first time after a long time in a desert. Tony was still pissed. And rightfully so but their conversation was much more civil than Steve had thought it would be.

It was all still so surreal. Tony’s pregnant. With twins. He was also showing a bump. He has never seen a person pregnant with twins, so he really doesn’t know how big it actually is. He only has the vague idea that it must be bigger than usual.

He wants to be happy. But all this just reminds him more of what he lost. His bonded is pregnant. He’s alone and hurt a d instead of taking care of him he’s miles away from him, living life as a fugitive. He’s going to have kids which he’ll probably never get to meet. His kids won’t know him. He would be the absent parent. The father who hurt their dad and left them on their own.

He misses Tony even more now. Not only Tony, his kids too. He wants to be there. To select the baby names, to buy their stuff, learn everything he needs to, decorate their room. He also wants to handle his random moon swings, to see him eat the most ridiculous things in the world, go through the morning sickness and hold him through the pain. He wants the good and the bad.

But he can’t. His team members came here with him leaving their everything behind too. He’s their leader. They’re dependent on him. He can’t allow himself to be selfish. If the calls are all he gets now, he’ll take them without a second of doubt.

He and Tony talked a few times more. Usually Tony calls him once a week, sometimes twice depending on his health. Their calls were shorter than Steve preferred but he knew he deserved that.

Tony always just told him about his health and about the kids. He never asked about the others or where they were and that they were doing. He never asked anything at all.

Today it was his turn to keep guard at night. They are in Geneva in a run down motel that barely fits them all. He’s sitting on the balcony when the call came and he was quick to pick up.

“Everything okay? You didn’t tell me you’re going to call.”

“Why? Annoyed by my calls already, Rogers.”

“No! That’s not-that's not what I meant Tony. You just always give a heads up text first so I was surprised. I’m glad you called.”

“Hmm. Well, the kids have started kicking inside my stomach. They’re impatient to come out. Thought you should know.”

“Really? Both of them?” he kept his voice carefully neutral not to let Tony know his real feelings. Tony has enough problems already. He doesn’t need to deal with Steve’s guilt now.

“Yeah. Both of them. I can see the outlines of their heads, hands and feet occasionally.” Oh how Steve wanted to be there.

“Does it hurt?”

“Well, yes. Kinda. But it’s bearable. It’s a small price to pay when I can feel their tiny bodies moving around inside. Anyway, that’s why I called you. I thought you’d like to know this sooner than later.” His voice carried a type of uncertainty that breaks Steve’s heart.

“Yea Tony. Thank you so much for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. Bye Cap.”

“Bye Tony. Take care.” And Tony hung up.

He felt like crying and laughing at the same time. He doesn’t understand his emotions these days at all. He might as well be losing his sanity.

Right then Nat came and sat beside him.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked a d she replied with a hum.

“So, the kids started kicking, huh? And no don’t give me that look. You’re sitting on the kitchen balcony and I was making tea.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “The kids started kicking around. He said he can see the outline of their heads and limbs some times.”

“Sounds nice.” Nat said softly as she put her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah it does.” Then they fell into a comfortable silence which Nat broke with a question he really wanted to avoid.

“Why didn’t you tell him? About Barnes.”

After a few quiet moments he started saying. “At first, I didn’t know how to tell him that my supposedly dead best friend killed his parents. At least that’s what I told myself. But now looking back to it, I was just being a coward. I didn’t want to lose him. I was scared he’d drift away from me because of the revelation. That I’d have to choose between staying with him or helping out Bucky.” He let out a bitter chuckle at that. “And that’s exactly what happened. I had to choose and I chose Bucky. I don’t regret helping him. Not at all. But when I thought that if Tony knew about his parents, he’d pull out his tech from finding Buck, I didn’t tell him. Then Ultron happened, Tony retired and the finally the Accords. In the end I hurt him more than anyone ever did. I feel like all this could have been prevented if I was a better man.”

“Even if you had come out clean about Barnes, the issue with the Accords would still be there.” Nat pointed out.

“A lot was going on at that time. Bucky, Peggy, Wanda. I didn’t hear anything about what he’d had to say about the Accords. I just placed my own opinion and ridiculed him for his decisions.”

“Tony…he’s not like us Steve. We didn’t follow the government, so here we are on the run, being fugitives. He’d have to stay and fix our mess. Like always.”

“I know that. I knew that then too. But back then I kept thinking that he was making excuses for his actions regarding Ultron. I was still angry that he hid things from us…me. I’m a hypocrite Nat. I’ve way too many flaws for some who’s supposed to be perfect.” Nat didn’t say anything more and eventually went to sleep leaving him alone with his thoughts and loneliness.

They don’t talk about it again. Sam looks at him like he wants to talk to him but eventually backs off. He sometimes wonders what Sam seen on his face that makes him relent. They’re in Berlin now and just took down a HYDRA base where they were experimenting on children. The kids were all so young that they made him think of his own – still unborn – kids. He feels protective of them but also extremely anxious as he’s away from them.

Anger fills him. He wants to be with them, stay during the pregnancy, see the grow, what they look like when they first open their eyes. He wants to experience being a father. But he can’t. He subconsciously starts blaming Tony. It’s his fault. If he just hadn’t been so stubborn, he had communicated with them properly then the situation would be much better. None of them would suffer like this.

After a moment, when he calms down, he hates himself.

Pregnancy is shit. Tony loves his kids. Really. But he hates the process. It’s been almost six months now and he’s huge. He can’t walk, sit, sleep or tie his shoes. It’s all so hard. But when he feels the kids roll around in his stomach, all his annoyance drains away.

Even before the pregnancy, he’s had his bad days and good days. But those mood swings got nothing on the ones now. Some days he feels elated and over the moon, looks at the world with rose colored glasses but some days they have to physically hold him back to stop from throwing a wrench on the first random person he sees.

Pepper and Rhodey try to help. But they are both Sentinels and their presence doesn’t to much good to his body. Because of his Peter has all but moved into the tower. He’s a Guide too so his body reacts most pleasantly with him around. He let’s Peter play around his – their – workshop and in return Peter pets his bump like he’s a house cat. Everything works out eventually.

It hurts. His chest feels like it’s been cut open. He’s bleeding. He’s cold. And it’s just getting colder. It all hurts so much. There is a figure looming over him. Tony can’t see his face but can tell the figure has blue eyes that are welled with tears and his face is contoured with fear.

There are hands on his face. Hesitant and trembling. The figure is calling him. Saying his name repeatedly. Begging him to wake up, to look at them. But he can’t. He feels frozen. Even when the figure wails on his chest, telling him that he can hate them as much as he wants, that they’ll never show Tony their face, he can’t move. Then he realizes. Dead. He’s dead.

He wakes up gasping. His eyes and throat are burning, he can’t breathe. He quickly drowns the glass of water kept on his bedside table and wills himself to calm down. He’s had nightmares before. Had them regarding this specific topic too. But this is the first time he shared a dream with Steve. He swiftly takes his phone and calls Steve. He can’t even get a word out before Steve’s sob rings through the phone.

“Tony…” he has never heard Steve sound like this. He sobs uncontrollably. Repeatedly saying his name and apologizing. All this time Tony says nothing. He waits for Steve to calm down which takes longer than he anticipated.

“Say so-something please. I-I need to-”

“I’m here. I’m right here Steve. I’m okay.” He hears Steve sigh in relief and they fall silent as Steve collects himself.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to share the dream with you. I’m really sorry Tony.”

“It’s fine Steve. Really. Everything’s good.” It takes a while before Steve speaks up again.

“How are you? All fine? And how are the kids.”

“We’re all fine. Stop worrying so much. The doctor asked again if I wanted to know the gender and I refused. Again. Though I can’t wait for them to come out. I’m so big now that even the simplest works are a hassle now.”

“Don’t work at all, Tony. Please be careful.”

“Yes sir yes. And anyway, the three musketeers are here to keep an eye on me all the time. They don’t let me do anything other than rest and eat. I don’t think the kids are the only reason I’m this huge. Pretty sure at least thirty percent is food.”

“Let them spoil you a bit. You deserve it. I won’t keep you more. Go to sleep. Take care, Tony.”

“I will. Goodnight Steve.”

“Goodnight.”

They don’t talk about the dream ever again.

Tony really, really hates hospitals. It’s nothing new but right now so close to his delivery date with all the doctors fussing over him along with Rhodey, Pep and Peter, it’s the absolute worst. He’s just giving birth. It’s not like he’s dying. After so many near death experiences this shouldn’t be such a big deal for them but apparently it is.

It’s also been a while since he talked with Steve. So he doesn’t really know that Tony’s in hospital, preparing to go into labor. Steve’s in for some real surprise.

Giving birth hurt like a bitch. But now that he is holding his angels in his arms, every pain feels worth it. They are beautiful. A boy and a girl. Harley James Stark and Morgan Maria Stark.

They are the absolute perfection to him. Morgan with her brown eyes and brown hair, looking exactly like him and Harley with his blonde hair and blue eyes reminding him so much of Steve. They are his. His kids. His world.

There is so much yet to be done. He has to tell Steve, make sure that the media doesn’t know about this, keep shit from hitting the fan. And shit will hit the fan. He knows it. But delaying the inevitable is all he can do right now. But those tasks come later. Now it’s just he and his kids and he’s going to enjoy this peace all he can.

Taking care of kids is so much harder than they make it in the YouTube videos. They cry a lot, sleep when they shouldn’t and are wide awake ass o’clock in the morning. They are all the time either hungry or want to poop. Tony can’t feel his hands from constantly making the formula.

Peter helps a lot with them and brings May along once a week as she is the one having most experience with raising children. Tony is extremely grateful for all the tips she has given him. Rhodey comes along too and so does Pepper when she has time off from the company. Even with all the trouble, there is no greater joy than being with his kids.

Steve is still unreachable. He calls him everyday whenever he has time. But every time the call goes to voice mail. Tony figures he could just leave a voice mail but he doesn’t want to inform Steve about his kids through a voice mail, so he doesn’t.

Just before Tony starts considering the worst case scenarios he calls Steve one more time and this time he picks up.

“Hey Cap. It’s been a while.”

“Hey Tony. Yeah, it’s has. I’m sorry I couldn’t pick up your calls for so long. I was in a kind of rough situation.”

Rough situation, huh.

“I see. You good to talk now?”

“Yeah I am. How are you? And what about the kids?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to say today. I gave birth Steve. They are already 5 weeks old.” The line went silent for several minutes. At that time Tony kept quiet, letting Steve process the sudden information.

“So…um…are you okay? Were…were there any complications? And what about the kids? They’re not sick, right?”

“I’m fine, Steve. So are the kids. I checked for every infection or disease we both ever had. They’re both healthy.”

“Two boys? Or two girls?”

“One boy and one girl actually.”

“Oh, I…wow!” He could hear the awed laughter in Steve’s voice. “What did you name them?”

“Morgan Maria Stark and Harley James Stark. Do you like them?”

“Yeah, they’re wonderful.” His replies were all hurried. Voice filled with joy and wonder. “Can you tell me a bit about them?” This question though came out a little bit hesitant.

“…Yeah sure. Morgan actually looks exactly like I did when I was a baby. Same brown eyes and the same hair too. She is slightly underweight but the doctor said it’s common between twins that one of them is born a bit smaller. Nothing to worry about. Harley, on the other hand looks just like you. Sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I can already tell that he’s going to be tall.” Tony could talk about the all day. He never thought he could love someone so much so quickly.

“Sounds like they’re well. Thank you for telling me Tony.” He could hear the smile in Steve’s voice but he could also hear how his voice was slightly chocked up with tears. His voice almost makes Tony feel guilty about the next things he is going to say. Almost.

“Steve, I-I think it’s better if…we don’t talk any more after today.” There he said it. He was also proud that his voice didn’t break. Too much.

“What? What do you mean by that, Tony?” The disbelief was clean in Steve’s voice. All signs of the tentative happiness present before now gone.

“You need to understand. It’s just not about me now. I have to take care of the kids. Keep their identities a secret. I’m already getting enough pressure from Ross. If he knows about the kids or that we are talking it’ll be a huge problem.” Tony tried to reason with him. But if Steve was capable of reasonableness then they wouldn’t to in this situation.

“So that’s it, huh. There is no way I can be aware of how my kids are in any way ever. I don’t get to be a parent. Even from a far.” Steve’s voice was now angry. Tony could tell that he was clenching his jaw hard to stop himself from yelling.

But Tony was nothing but determined. He wouldn’t risk Morgan and Harley’s safety over anything.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do. And from what I remember you’re the one who left me behind. Don’t whine to me about your own big boy decisions Rogers.” Tony heard Steve let out a pained sigh like he was exhausted. To be frank so was Tony.

“Tony I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry for everything. If I had known you were carrying—“

“You what?” Tony interrupted, suddenly even more annoyed. “You wouldn’t have left? It would’ve taken me being knocked up to keep you here?” he asked angrily.

“What? N-no, that’s not what I mea—“

“Well that’s what it sounds like, Steve! I begged you to think it all through, to stop what you were doing, but you didn’t listen! You never listened to one word. It was all about what you thought was right. What you thought was necessary. You never even considered my situation. And yet I came after you to try and help, and you—you just—“

“I’m sorry!” Steve replied, and his voice was pleading. “I fucked up. I messed up so bad, and I know that. Leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Tony exhaled slowly, put a hand over his face. Steve admitting he made a mistake was kind of delicious, because he had always been stubborn before, never admitted his faults, but it didn’t make Tony feel any better. Not as much as he thought it would “What the hell does it matter if you’re sorry?” he asked. “You did it, and you can’t take it back.”

“I…I know I can’t take it back. You think…that I don’t know that. It’s all I can think about every single moment.” Steve started. “And I also know I don’t deserve to be in your presence ever again, but…please, please Tony don’t pull away from me. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do to earn your forgiveness.”

“Earn my forg—? You’re not getting it, Steve! That’s not gonna fix anything! You’re a fucking fugitive, and I’m being watched, and even if—if I could ever bring myself to forgive you, we can’t see each other again! You ruined any chance of that, any chance of a future together!”

“But-but there must be something we can do. Please Tony, I love you. Don’t you miss it? Don’t you miss us? Every time I close my eyes all I can see is the time when we were so happy, planning a future together. I can see you and our children, smiling. And it hurts. It hurts so much thinking about them and realizing that this would never be possible. ” Tony knew his next word would hurt Steve in an unimaginable way. It for once he didn’t want to be the one to be hurt.

“You’re lucky Steve. You dream of good things, even if they won’t come true. You have no idea what I’d give to dream such things. Because every time I close my eyes the only thing I see is you bringing down your Shield on my chest. Maybe I didn’t die on that day in Siberia. But we did.” Then he hung up.

When they were part of The Avengers, some missions were exceptionally difficult. Even with the tech and careful planning, things could get really messy. But now with the missing tech, equipment and members trouble lays heavier than ever on them. Their last mission particularly was both emotionally and physically draining.

Anything related to children were always messy. But this time a terrorist organization was experimenting on small children to turn them into biochemical weapons.

Everyone had roughened up quite a bit during this mission. But Steve took a particularly bad hit and came down with a bad fever. Which was healing albeit very slowly. Natasha had doubts that the innumerable amount of unknown chemicals was causing the slowed healing.

Steve was mostly delirious the whole time. He didn’t know how much time had passed and what happened around him. By the time he could walk without leaning on to someone several weeks had passed.

Tony had called him a lot of times during the first two weeks. But after that there was radio silence which worried him to no end. The could stop thinking if about him and the kids. Wondering if they were okay. The fact that Tony was close to his due date did nothing to quench his worries. Rights when he was contemplating whether he should just call Tony first, the phone rang.

He couldn’t believe it. He was a father. He was the father of a boy and a girl. He was Harley and Morgan’s father. He had kids now. Kids that apparently looked like him and Tony. But even through the thick cloud of happiness sorrow managed to slip in. He would be a father to them but never their papa. He would be the absent parent. The father who had hurt their dad and left them alone. The thought made his heart quiver.

His train of thoughts were cut when he heard Tony speak again. And Steve’s more than sure that he will never be able to forget Tony’s words ever again.

Steve didn’t know how long he sat there with the phone in his hand but after a while his feet carried him to his bag where he pulled out a hoddie – one that Tony wore more than he ever did – that gives him some comfort on his hardest days. As he slipped in to the hoodie and his head hit the pillow, he didn’t bother trying to stop his tears.

Steve knows that the rest of them can feel that something is wrong with him. He isn’t sleeping well and doesn’t have an appetite most of the time. It’s getting to the point where it has started to show on his face. But no one says anything. Especially, since Clint has finally reached his limit and is now going back to his family with T’challa’s (and Tony’s) help.

But they are definitely talking about him when they think he is not listening. (They should stop underestimating how enhanced his hearing is). The side glances they give him and the silent eye contact conversations they have are starting to get unnerving. They’re probably deciding if Sam should or talk him or Nat. He can bet ten bucks that they’re gonna send Nat in the end.

And he was right. He took a tiny victory in that. It was his turn to guard and suddenly Natasha came and sit next to him.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he asked.

“I hat a lot of chances to tell you that for the past few weeks but I restrained, didn’t I.” Steve huffed and was about to reply but she continued to talk. “What happened, Steve? You’ve been very quiet – well quieter – these days. You’re not even eating or sleeping properly.” He worried tone made him feel guilty. Natasha wasn’t one to show vulnerability often. But such moments slipped in when she was feeling too emotional.

“Tony gave birth. A boy and a girl.” Steve didn’t bother hiding. What was the point. Even if he didn’t tell them, they’d figure out that it was past his due anyway.

“Oh, congrats then. What did he name them?”

“Harley James Stark and Morgan Maria Stark. Apparently they look exactly like us.” Even though his heart was heavy with longing, his mouth curved into a small smile at the thought of his bonded and their kids.

“You’re happy.” She says matter-of-factly but a slight curious tilt to her voice. “Then why the long face all the time?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I want to see them. That I want to be more than just a parent who was never there.” He snaps and instantly all fight leaves his body. The next time he speaks his voice is small and defeated. “I want to see them grow. I want to be there with them. I want to be more than the absent father who lied to their dad for years. Who hurt him and left them all behind.” Natasha just looks at him with her head tilted to the side. An indication that he should continue. “Tony told me that we can’t talk any more. That he is being watched by Ross. Communicating more would put both his and the kids’ safety at risk.”

“You know what he is doing is right. You might want to think that it serves him right for signing the Accords. But he didn’t have any other choice. If he didn’t sign them, he would’ve ended up in jail. And it’s not like he could run with us. People can recognize his face from a mile away. You know all that. So what are you so upset about?”

“Maybe…maybe I’m not upset with him at all. Maybe I’m just disappointed at myself. I hate myself for lying to him. For-for leaving him behind…in Siberia. For everything that happened between us. Right after coming out of the ice, I initially thought that I should’ve just died there, you know. Life was so hard and difficult and lonely. Then I met Tony and I thought that I too had a chance at happiness. Not normalcy but happiness sure. And we were happy. For so long. Even after Ultron happened we managed to find common ground. Then I ruined it all. I don’t know what to do anymore, Nat. Everything is so hard and complicated.”

“You can’t do anything, Steve. None of us can. All we can do is hold on and hope against hope that someday everything will be alright.”

After them none of them say anything. There is nothing left to say.

Even after his short talk with Nat things didn’t automatically become better. Steve was still silent on the good days and downright depressed on the bad ones. He wanted to stop feeling like this. Knows that there is not point. The team had trusted him and followed him to exile. The least he could do is be a good leader. But that’s also proving to be very taxing.

Sometimes Wanda goes out alone and comes back a few hours later. They all know she goes to meet Vision. No one says anything though, as she always comes back a little happier. Steve wishes with all of himself that he could at least have that. But he doesn’t. So he just aches.

Few weeks pass like that. Steve has now once again demoted to staring at the flip phone longingly waiting for a call that won’t come. Then they go to Wakanda for a respite. Out loud they tell each other that it’s for new information. Better weapons. To see how Bucky is doing. But in the privacy of their own minds they can acknowledge to themselves that they are all tired. Tired of fighting for others, for their lives. Tired of hiding from the ones they fight for and the ones they fought together with once.

The King of Wakanda welcomes them warmly. They have warm showers, healthy and delicious food and warm beds. None of them do anything to qualm the emptiness inside them.

A few nights in and Steve has his first nightmare in a very long time. Most would argue that it was a wonderful dream instead. But the overwhelming grief it left him with says otherwise.

He dreamt of a cozy cabin in the woods with a huge lawn. Children running around with pet dogs. That he’s sitting on the porch watching them and there is a hand in his, fingers intertwined, and a head of his shoulder. It’s all he’s ever wanted. And everything he’ll never get to have.

It’s four am in the morning. He should sleep. But after that dream there is no way he can close his eyes again. So he pads over to the lab where Bucky is sleeping in his cryo and sits by him on the floor. Even though they can’t talk Steve feels a sense of stability by being close to him. He’ll never regret saving his friend. Bucky went through more than he ever deserved to and he’d protect him a hundred times over. Steve just wishes he’d been more honest.

The Accords aren’t the reason for their fallout. They could’ve been fixed. Like the way Tony is fixing them now. Placing everything correctly. The problem was that he was too stubborn and too wrapped up in his own problems to consider Tony’s words. Now they’re in this mess and it’s all his fault.

Bucky could’ve had better than this if not for Steve’s mistakes. He could finally stop running and hiding. The rest would be with their family. And even if Tony didn’t forgive him for lying, he’d not have to go through so much trouble from Ross daily. Things could’ve been so much better. If not for him.

“Can’t sleep, Captain?” Princess Shuri’s sudden voice startles him out of his thoughts.

“Uh, no. We have been moving around so much that it’s hard to get comfortable somewhere.”

“I see. You must miss him.” She points her head at Bucky.

“Yes, yes I do.”

“He’ll be fine soon. He is making wonderful progress and we are all confident that he will make a full recovery in no time. So, please be patient for a little bit more.”

“Thank you Princess. I will always be grateful for all that you and your people have done for us.”

“You’re welcome.” With that she left, leaving him alone in this never ending loneliness again.

What Nat said was right. He knows that there’s nothing he can do other than having hope. But even that seems too far fetched considering the situation he has found himself in.

With a sigh he pulls himself up and goes back to his room. He craves the dreams – and nightmares – just as much as he dreads them. Because now dreaming is the only way Steve can ever see him.

His last conversation with Steve was horrible, to say the least. He didn’t want to say anything about his nightmares – no matter how true – but in the heat of the moment it all burst out. He let himself grieve Steve’s renewed absence for a few long minutes before Maria screamed out and hearing her Harley started crying too and he had to run off to take care of them. Taking care of kids is really no walk in the park.

Tony doesn’t know how it is for other parents but for him the kids grew up too fast. It was like he blinked and now they’re two year olds. They can already walk and talk and read. Harley now can take apart his toys and build them up again. Morgan talks about astrophysics with Peter. Sometimes Tony feels dizzy with everything happening around him.

He is extremely thankful to the kid. Without him (and May’s miraculous tips) he’d have fucked this up long ago. Rhodey and Pepper are there tor him too. But they both work away so in the end Peter is the one who gets most of the babysitting duty.

Peter also always looks way too excited to indulge the kids. It’s a win-win situation for all.

When Tony went out in the morning after handing the kids over to Rhodey, he didn’t think that he’d end up meeting a wannabe Voldemort, have a reunion with Bruce, fight stupid aliens and end up in a flying donut with god damn idiots and stowaway spider. This is not what he signed up for when he made that suit.

Tony hates his life.

Tony knew that considering the life he was leading he’d dodged death quite a lot of times. But death by turning into dust and disappearing in thin air feels a bit anticlimactic to him. It doesn’t hurt at all. Just a disturbing feeling from vanishing from existence. He hates that the last thing he sees is Peter’s distressed face. So he tries his best to smile for him. And then he’s gone.

Right when he thinks that he had seen it all, the universe again surprises him. But at least he has learnt not to be phased by them. To he honest, Thor telling him that he copied his beard is more unsettling than greeting a tree.

When Thor lunges at Thanos, Steve thinks that they really have a chance to win but a moment later people around him start to turn to dust and vanish into thin air. He falls to his hands and knees when the ever present feeling of Tony in the back of his mind is…gone. Someone’s calling him. Bucky maybe or Nat. It could be Sam. But no Sam turned to dust. Steve doesn’t know. He can barely make out some words over the ringing of his ears.

“I can’t feel him.” He whispers or maybe he screams. He has no idea what he’s doing right now. All his senses has intensified and numbed at the same time. He thinks someone has hauled him up to his feet and they’re now walking or perhaps he’s laying down. Steve doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything anymore. Maybe it’s better this way.

When Steve opens his eyes its early in the morning. The date shows that it’s been a week since Thanos. Steve doesn’t remember falling asleep. He doesn’t even remember the whole week passing by. Suddenly with a jolt re senses Tony’s absence and wants to go back to sleep again, preferably forever.

But he can’t because right that moment Nat enters the room. Her face is unreadable as always. However, her eyes are haunted and red rimmed, like she has cried. Steve wants to cry too. He wants to sob and wail and pull his hair out. He wants to scratch his arms bloody and rub his eyes raw. He wants to be in Tony’s arms and feel his heartbeat. He wants to breakdown at the impossibility of it all. But he can’t. Through the whirlwind of his senses and emotions there is absolutely nothing that he can feel.

Nat’s saying something to him. He has possibly agreed to whatever she said. He’s looking at her but he can’t see her. He can’t see anything at all. Steve distantly feels like she’s talking about going home. Though he has no idea where home is anymore. Steve’s body has surely stayed but his heart had turned to dust.

Things are…well, a mess, to say the least. Most of the time Steve doesn’t k ow what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. He doesn’t remember showering or eating yet he knows he has when he finds that his hair is wet or he isn’t feeling hungry. Bucky and Nat are tip toeing around him all the time. He should feel annoyed but isn’t able to bring himself to do that either.

All his thoughts stray back to the same conclusion. ‘Tony’s gone so what’s the point of anything else.’ He knows it’s the because of the bond. But Steve at least has that much sanity left to know that even without the bond his thoughts wouldn’t differ much.

After his senses slowly start coming back to him, panic and grief hits him with full force. It even worse than no feeling at all. Most of the time he’s either crying or somewhere having a panic attack. He thought that Tony is truly gone. Forever. That he won’t ever see him again. Steve mind simply refuses to accept that. He goes through the stages of grief several times but never makes it to acceptance.

After he’s stable enough to form coherent sentences without breaking down he hops on to the Quinjet to the compound. On his way he stupidly wishes that maybe Tony is there. That he’s alright. That Steve can’t feel him because he found a way to break their bond. It’s ironic how merely a few days ago this thought was enough to break him. Yet now, this very thought – as impossible as it might be – keeps him steady, even just for a little while.

Steve isn’t in the mood for conversions. Especially when said conversation is with Secretary Ross. But he says all that needs to be said and leaves the conference room as fast as he could. He’s exhausted from facing loss, from looking at what is left of the world now, from trying not to think about all of what is missing.

When he enters his – their – room he notices that it still smells like Tony. Like he’s just in the shower or in his workshop and will come back to Steve any moment. He won’t. But Steve doesn’t want to think that.

After two years looking at everything he left behind and everything he’ll never get to have again makes it hard to breathe. His throat is closing up and his eyes are burning. The pain in his chest feels like it wants to kill him. For a moment Steve hopes is does.

He should get himself together. From what Rhodes said Pepper will bring the kids to the compound tomorrow. Hopefully try to make them understand why Tony wasn’t ever coming back and also introduce Steve.

Steve wants to meet them, really. He has waited for two years for this moment. To see with his own eyes what they look like. He just wishes that he wasn’t alone. That the kids could have them both together.

He showers and changes into whatever he finds in the closet and sleeps on Tony’s side of the bed.

Next morning he wakes up early showers and shaves and spends three hours talking himself out of any kind of breakdown he could have after seeing the children. He hopes he doesn’t mess this up too.

Tony was right. The kids look absolutely similar to them. Morgan’s brown hair and brown doe eyes, Harley’s sandy blonde locks and blue eyes, looking like the perfect mix of both of them. They’re both taller than average children, most probably due to Steve’s enhanced serum. But the way of their speech, already forming genius level intelligence, is all Tony’s. Seeing them is reliving and hurtful at the same time.

He doesn’t tell them instantly who he is. But he has a feeling that they know. He sees them watching him with such familiar intensity in their eyes that Steve almost flees. This goes on for some days. The kids waiting for him to spill out the truth and Steve delaying the inevitable. In the end Harley’s the one who bites the bullet. Steve is at least ashamed that his two year old kids have to clean up his mess.

“You’re our papa, aren’t you?” The way his voice leaves no place for an argument makes him smile. Hearing the word ‘papa’ also makes his heart flutter. Tony must’ve taught them. As soon as the thought comes, his eyes start burning a bit.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” It’s a relief finally letting it out.

“Aha! We knew it! You look exactly like Harley. Or well Harley looks like you. But we’re right.” Morgan’s is practically vibrating with excitement. Jumping from one place to another. But the same can’t be told for Harley whose face is harder than any two year olds face should be.

“Were you really on a secret mission?” At Steve’s confused face he continues, “Dad told us that you were on a secret mission to save the world. And that you couldn’t talk to us or come back so you could keep us safe. Is it true?” Steve’s heart clenches painfully thing that even after everything he did, Tony painted his image nicely in front of his children. That is such a ‘Tony’ thing to do.

“Yeah…um yes. I was. It was really dangerous so I couldn’t come back earlier. I’m sorry.” Both kids look at him dubiously. Too smart to believe such utter nonsense. But to his great happiness they let him be.

“We can call you papa then?” they’re both looking at him wryly.

“Of course!” he waited so long to hear those words. “I really missed you two.” Suddenly he has an armful of tolders yelling ‘we missed you too’. This is enough to quell the hollowness inside him, even if it’s temporary. Steve smiles and thinks that maybe he can live. If not for himself then for his kids. He has to.

Everyday he wakes up and breathes he feels a bit disappointed. But doesn’t let that feeling linger too long. He exercises, showers, makes breakfast for the kids and spends time with. The kids take his mind off whatever is happening around him by talking about anything and everything. They are both absolute chatterboxes.

He has formed a little support group for people where he encourages people to move on. There are a lot of people like him. Who lost their significant others. He tells them that they should learn to live. For themselves and for who are left. Saying them makes him feel like a hypocrite. But he has acknowledged this character flaw a while back.

Nat is looking for Clint. All his family are dead and now he’s nowhere to be found. All they know is that he’s alive. But Nat’s not someone who easily gives up. So she keeps on looking. Bucky comes with him too to the support groups. He also helps people in re-building whatever is left. He’s trying to find himself. Steve’s happy he’s doing better.

Everyone has found something to cope with. Not all their methods are healthy. But with all that has happened no one can blame them for this. It goes on for three weeks until a glowing woman comes to the compound with a broken spaceship and things mess up a bit more.

The kid Tony went to space with – Peter – is here after three weeks in space. When the blue cyborg lady brings him down he’s barely able to stand. So Steve runs to him to help. Just as he holds him he collapses on him. The kid must’ve seen him looking at the spaceship because he says, “He’s gone. We lost time.” In a rough broken voice before Rhodes takes him inside.

He stays behind even when everyone has left, looking at the sky and waiting for a spark of red and gold to show. He must’ve been standing there longer than he thought – his sense of time is a bit distorted these days – because suddenly Bucky has a hand wrapped around his bicep and is pulling him inside.

It doesn’t take long for spider man to be a fully functional human. But the psychological trauma is a different matter. He was lost in space of weeks and came back to all his family and friends gone. They’ve tried to be respectful and give him some time but Ross is demanding a briefing and if we don’t get it he’ll come here instead. Even Peter won’t be happy with that.

He debriefs everything he knows. Some parts similar to Earth. Like Thanos being a purple twisted and violent maniac. Some parts though are hard to go through. Like Tony getting stabbed and then turning to dust. Steve doesn’t know how close Tony and Peter were. But if the calls two years back were anything to go by, Tony had adored the kid and vice versa.

Nat thinks he should talk to Peter. Steve thinks so too. But he’s pretty sure Peter is avoiding him and then he’s avoiding Peter too and like that three months go by without any conversation. He spends with the kids when Steve is absent, goes out early in the morning and skips breakfast with them. Steve stays away from the common room when Peter watching movies and goes out of way to not go to the gym the same time.

Natasha gives them both disapproving looks but they both pretend they can’t see it. Steve thinks maybe they won’t ever break this extremely unhealthy pattern.

In the end the pattern does break. But in a more horrible way than he could have imagined.

When Pepper comes to the compound, face hard and unreadable, everyone knows something is wrong.

“FRIDAY tell everyone to come to the conference room.” No one wastes a minute.

The tension in the room is so high that he can feel in buzz on his skin. He wants to get over with this but is also dreading the conversation.

“This file in my hand is the official copy of the will of Anthony Edward Stark.” All eyes of the room snap towards her but she doesn’t stop, “I’m going to read it now-

“I, Anthony Edward Stark, being of full age, sound mind and memory, do make, declare and publish this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking and annulling any and all Last Will and Testaments or Codicils at any time heretofore made by me.

ITEM I

I direct that all my funds, authorities and shares belonging in the name of Stark Industries to Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts. She will have full access to all company files and be named the Executive Director of the company.

ITEM II

All of the rest and residue of my property, real and personal, of every kind and description and whosesoever situate, which I may own or have the right to dispose of at the time of my death, I give, devise, and bequeath to my bonded, Steven Grant Rogers. The properties, shares and funds created for my children, Harley James Stark and Morgan Maria Stark, should be handled by him until they are of age.

ITEM III

I direct that the fund named ‘Itsy Bitsy Study Plan’ should be provided to Peter Benjamin Parker each month after he starts his college. The full access to EDITH should also be given to Peter Benjamin Parker.

ITEM IV

The word “Executor” means the same as “Administrator”, “Executrix”, or “Personal

Representative” and refers to the person who is to administer my estate and carry out the terms of this Last Will and Testament. I hereby name, constitute and appoint as my Executor and direct that my Executor shall serve without bond. Should my Executor be unable or unwilling to serve or continue to serve, then I hereby name, constitute and appoint.

Testator: Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts

Witness Initials: James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes.”

With that she snapped the file closed. “All funds and property authorization has been transferred to your name Mr. Rogers, including this compound and the cabin house in Georgia. There are shares of Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barton in this compound too. All files have been transferred to respective accounts.”

She takes out a sunglass box out of her bag and hands it over to Peter. “This is for you, Peter. The college and other studies fund will be provided to you monthly after you start college. He has secured scholarships and sessions for you in NYU, Columbia and MIT. You can choose any of them. That’s it for all of you. Goodbye.”

Everyone sits in silence for long moments and then Nat gets up and leaves and then so does Rhodes and Thor and Bruce and lastly, Bucky. In the end it’s just him and Peter left sitting there in silence until Peter breaks it.

“He loved you, you know. Even after everything you did and all that he suffered because of you, he kept on loving you.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes! Yes, I do Peter. He-I loved him too. I still love him and I always will. I know I hurt him but-”

“You hurt him?! Is that what you keep thinking? Because from what I know you left him to die in a cold bunker in Siberia.”

“No! I-I didn’t-…”

“No, you listen to me.” Peter was now standing up, eyes wild with rage. “You left him there to die. He was hurting, you shut down his suit and left him there. Without King T’Challa he really would have.

Do you know that there is – was – a huge crescent shaped scar in his chest. Do you happen to know where that is from? It’s from your Shield. You crushed his sternum! How will you explain that?!”

“I know what I did, okay! Do you think I don’t know about the damage I caused. About exactly how much I hurt him! I know all that. But now it’s all pointless.” Steve was so tired. Tired of fighting, of grieving, of trying to be okay.

“Yes, you’re right. It’s all pointless. You knowing what you did wrong won’t change anything. Won’t change that he’s gone, that he’s dead.” Peter’s voice breaks as he chokes down a sob in the last word.

“What did he do wrong? Why did he have to go? Why couldn’t you leave in his place?” His voice is now small and pained. Afraid of facing what he lost even after all this time.

Steve can understand very well how he’s feeling. “You have no idea how many times I have wished for the same thing, Peter.” And he leaves too.

They go on with their lives. Steve takes care of the kids, helps people around with Bucky in support groups, misses Tony and – more often than he’d like to admit – cries himself to sleep. Peter went to NYU to study so he can stay close to the city. And Nat never confirms anything but he knows that she’s still looking for Clint.

Telling the kids about their dad wasn’t easy. They cried and cried until Steve couldn’t hold back his tears. But it was nice to be held instead of being blamed for once.

Thor mourns too. Mourns about his brother, about his kingdom, about his friends. Gets drunk and doesn’t listen when we try to talk to him. None of them know where Bruce is. But it’s most probably better for him to stay away from this kind of environment.

One day Carol Denver comes back and tells us that she has killed Thanos. It should be a victory, but it doesn’t feel like one to him. Doesn’t feel like one to anyone at all. She comes to earth a lot more after that. Helps them with fixing whatever they can. Makes Rhodes smile. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. It’s as good as it can be. For them at least.

Some days Morgan and Harleys behavior is too worrying. One moment they are playing around and smiling and the other they’re looking seconds away from crying. Natasha advices therapy and it helps. Their mental state looks much better. Nay sometimes have a look on her face where she wants to tell Steve to go see a therapist too. Steve ignores her.

Things have been bearable lately. The kids play around and also study well. The Avengers help around whenever and wherever they are needed. Even Peter and he managed to build a civil relationship. For him things are as okay as they could be in a world without Tony. Although Nat and Bucky seem to disagree, he is doing just fine.

Five years after people lost half of their world, Rhodes and Carol get married. It’s a small ceremony. They all look happy, despite that Rhodes’s eyes go downcast whenever he notices the absence of Tony in the best man’s place. This day Steve misses Tony more than he ever did for the last seven years.

He doesn’t stay for the after party. He puts the kids to bed and goes to the room he’d been avoiding like a plague. Tony’s workshop. Here, Tony spent most of his hours and days. Entering the room feels like he’s closer to Tony just as it feels like Steve lost him a bit more.

Before he can fully enter, DUM-E wheels closer to him, making cheerful chirping noises. It makes him smile through hi solemn mood. He pets its claw and sits facing the large floor to ceiling window. He pulls out a small black velvet box out of his pocket. The one thing he avoids more than even talking about Tony.

Inside it sits two identical rings. Their vibranium bands and ruby on the center gleaming because of the moonlight coming from outside. He sits there for long. So lost in his thoughts that doesn’t even notice when he’s no longer alone in the room.

“They are beautiful.” The sudden voice of Bucky coming over his shoulder breaks him from his reverie. Steve instantly shuts the box close.

“Warn a guy a bit next time please.” Steve doesn’t wants to talk about this but also knows Bucky’s not gonna leave him alone now.

“Did you design it on your own?” Bucky asked as he sat down next to Steve.

“Yeah, I did. It was…before all this happened?” The heavy implication of what ‘all this’ isn’t missed by either of them.

“Steve, look…um…there’s something we all wanted to talk to you about.” The words immediately tense Steve. This can’t be anything good.

“What is it?”

“It’s just…it’s been five years Steve.”

“…And?”

“Don’t-don’t you think that it’s time you let him go.” Bucky’s word are hesitant and careful. Like he’s talking to a wounded animal. Well the notion isn’t particularly wrong.

Steve wants to control his anger. He wants to handle this by remaining calm. But dammit how dare they!

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying right now? You want me to what, let-let Tony go. How could even think of saying that?!”

“Steve, calm down – ”

“ – calm down?!”

“…and listen to me!” Steve takes a deep breath and settles down. He nods indicating his friend to continue. “He’s gone. It’s been five years since he’s gone. We all need to move one Steve. Stop hurting by reminding yourself all that went wrong and remember the good.”

Silence falls upon them after that. Steve slowly collects his thoughts and starts talking. “The last time I saw him, I saw fear in his eyes. He was scared. Scared for his life. Scared because he thought I would kill him. So forgive me but there is no way I can think of him with our happy moments only.” His voice is barely a whisper. If he speaks any louder he’ll break. “I ruined the one person I swore to myself I’d protect with my life.” He added.

“He’d want you to move on. He’d not want you to spend your life mourning. He would like it for you to be happy with your kids and build yourself up again. You know he would.” Bucky insisted.

“I do. I really do, Buck. But after I woke up in this time, my life was divided into two parts. One is Captain America, an Avenger. And another is Steve Rogers, Tony Stark’s bonded. None of those parts are really there now.” The thought is really upsetting about how less is left of him. Without the kids he probably wouldn’t have survived so long.

“I don’t know, Buck. I don’t know who I am or where I stand in a world without him. And frankly, I don’t want to. I am fine this way. And I don’t want to be better than fine.” The already exhausting day turned even worse after this conversation. So he did the only thing he does most often these days. He fled to his room.

He cried that night. After a long time he cried, cried and cried. He cried until his eyes stung from dryness and his throat ached. Yet he just couldn’t stop. All while the ring box was clutched close to his heart.

Seeing Natasha look so exhausted Steve wanted to tell her to give up. That she should let Clint go. But then he remembered his last conversation with Bucky and kept quiet.

If Steve was capable of having a heart attack, then he definitely would have had one seeing Scott.

The explanation and solution Scott gave them seemed too good to be true. He didn't even want to imagine everything that could be solved if this actually worked.

Everyone gathered around the table. Dialing up from wherever they were on earth or outer space. Carol's hologram against a blank wall and Thor drowning in self loathing.

"Okay, so you're gonna tell us what's going on?" Rhodey asked as Peter entered the room and Nebula's hologram lit up.

Steve looked around, taking in everyone's expressions, "You guys remember Scott Lang? Otherwise known as ant man?"

"I don't remember." Nebula stated bluntly.

Peter shrugged and explained, “He’s a guy who can turn real small and then real big. That’s all you need to know about him.”

“Sounds useless,” Nebula mused aloud.

“Hey!” Scott protested.

"Anyway." Steve cleared his throat. "Scott here was experimenting on some things and from that he found some ways to help us. Mind explaining, Scott?"

Scott swallowed and responded with only a slight waver in his voice, “When I came out of the quantum tunnel, Mister America, I mean, Captain America said it had been five years since I entered the quantum realm. But for me, it had only been six to seven minutes max.”

“So you got knocked on your head and can’t tell the time now, big whoop. I don’t need a knock on my head to have the same effect,” grumbled Rocket.

Scott had been told ahead of time by Steve about Rocket being a talking raccoon and Nebula being a blue alien, but that didn’t stop Scott from staring like a total rube. It also didn’t stop Scott from responding with snark. “I don’t know about where you come from, but for us humans, we can definitely tell the difference in time between a few years and a few minutes. For one, I wasn’t dead from dehydration and starvation when they pulled me out of the quantum realm.

“He’s right, it’s not something he would get mixed up about,” Steve interjected.

“Where are you going with this?” Thor asked, seemingly to wake up from his sullen silence.

Peter was already shaking his head, meeting Steve's gaze straight on. “No, that’s not possible. It’s a fluke that he even managed to make it out alive, let alone at the right point. You can’t possibly—”

“Can someone translate for those who don’t have telepathy?” Carol interrupted with raised eyebrows.

“They’re talking about time travel,” Rocket jumped in. “Time travel through this quantum realm.”

There was the briefest of silence as everyone who hadn’t caught the clue took in the meaning of this.

Then a pandemonium of questions, demands and suggestions was unleashed.

Steve sighed, rubbing his temples. It was going to be a long night.

The Avengers compound was bustling with energy and people, everyone back in one place and working with an edge of mania towards their final goal. Carol, Rocket and Nebula had all come back to Earth, adding to their numbers.

No one said it, but it was an unspoken thread running between all of them that this whole thing might be a fool’s errand. It might be a complete waste of time and energy. Countless people across the universe might be dead and gone for good, but rather than confront the uncertain nature of their mission, they all worked with frenzied speed, like they could get ahead of the awful possibilities if they just paddled a little faster.

Steve let the kids stay with Pepper for the while. If something went wrong, at least they'd be alright.

Even tthrough the countless uncertainties hope blossomed in Steve's chest. After a long time he slept without any nightmares.

Peter, Bruce and Scott worked day and night to crack time travel. They elwerent seen anywhere other than the lab. Steve or Rhodes sometimes brought them food. But that was all the interaction they had with the outer world.

It was just another day in the compound when Peter burst into the common room, followed by Bruce and Scott. "We solved it!"

Everyone went near them. Desperate for an explanation. "It's done? Really?" Natasha spoke first.

"Yeah, it's-it's done. We really did it!" This was the first time Steve saw Peter smile so bright.

"We need to get the whole team together." Steve said.

“What? The team is together, we’re all standing here together, like a bunch of idiots.” Rocket pointed out.

Steve shook his head. “Not all of us.”He turned to Natasha.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll find him. He’ll come back for this, if he knows there’s hope.”It was time for the Avengers to assemble.

Rocket muttered under his breath, “I hate this cryptic bullshit.”

While Natasha started looking for Clint even harder, the rest of them started practicing with the time travel GPS.

Peter designed a white, red and black suit with nano tech. The design looked a lot like something Tony would do. Looking around he could see in other's eyes that they were thinking of the same thing.

Rhodey wandered over to where Bruce was standing and asked, “If we can do this, go back in time, why don’t we just find baby Thanos, you know, and…” He mimed wrapping something around a small neck and pulled tight on the ends of his imaginary garrote.

Bruce’s horror was written all over his face, and he stared at Rhodey, aghast. “First of all…that’s horrible.”

“It’s Thanos,” Rhodey replied with an eye-roll.

Peter was snickering and even Steve had to bite his lips hard to hide his grin.

“Secondly, time doesn’t work that way,” Bruce continued over Rhodey.

Scott frowned, stopping his sniping with Rocket to pay attention to this conversation instead. “Look, maybe we don’t do that baby Thanos killing part, but we go back and get the Stones before Thanos gets them. Thanos doesn’t get the Stones. Problem solved.”

"It doesn't work like that." Nebula hissed. They continued bickering like that for a long time. Steve tuned out the conversation in the middle. Content with watching his teammates and reminiscing how it was before.

The first thing they did for the trial run was steal more Pym particles. It had given them enough resources to work through their plan.

The next day when he went to the kitchen he found Clint making coffee. Sensing his arrival Clint looked at him with a desperate light in his eyes. So Steve told Clint what he wanted to hear. "We're gonna make this right." He was a bit surprised by how much he believed it.

Rocket and Scott were trying to make more Pym particles. So it left the rest of them to work on the Infinity Stones.

Nat was furiously scribbling on her notebook, not leaving even the tiniest factors. They were retracing where the Infinity Stones had been over large sections of time, to better decide the exact time they should travel to in their goal to collect all the Infinity Stones.

Thor had a bit of a breakdown while discussing the Power Stone and Reality Stone and things got tense when Nebula told them how to get the Soul Stone. They were only vaguely aware of the location the Space stone and Mind Stone. Which only left the Time Stone to search for.

"Strange had it." Bruce said. "The magic guy." Not bothering to hide his distaste at the word 'magic'.

"Didn't he live somewhere in New York?" Peter asked

Bruce thought for a while and replied. "Yeah. Bleaker Street. I think."

Natasha wrote that down to her notebook too. "That's the last one then."

Clint and Thor inspected the dates and locations. "So, we got all of them then."

“When can we go?” Thor asked, face set in grim, determined lines.

“Hold on, Thor, we’ll still need to plan how we want to do this. We’ll each need to time travel three times at least or we’ll need to split into three teams,” Bruce explained.

Peter then spoke up, “What if we didn’t need three teams or to time travel three times.”

Bruce tilted his head thoughtfully. “But there are three different points in time, over here, here and here, which have the Stones.” He gestured at the Space Stone, Mind Stone, and Time Stone in 2012, then at the Power Stone and Soul Stone in 2014, and the Reality Stone in 2013. “I don't see how we have any other choice.”

"What are you thinking of Peter?" All of them were focused on Peter now.

“We’ve tried this before. We tried to get all the Infinity Stones from Thanos, but we were too late because he destroyed them. But being too late isn’t an issue anymore. What if we went earlier this time?” Peter suggested.

“Go to the retirement planet,” Bruce said, with a hint of wonder in his voice. “Let Thanos do our dirty work, and get them all from him. Peter, you’re a genius.” Peter's cheeks flushed at the praise.

They trained themselves for any possible outcome and followed through the plan. When Bruce snapped his fingers the first time, at first nothing happened. But then portals started opening in the planet and all the people they'd lost started fighting along them.

He felt Tony even before he saw him. Steve had forgotten what the thrum of the soulbond felt like. He hadn't feel this alive in a very long time.

He saw Peter and Tony hug somewhere in the middle. He wanted to hug Tony too. But he didn’t have the time now. But he definitely planned on holding Tony later and not let him go again.

Afterwards, Steve found out that he might not have that 'later' at all.

He didn't see Tony snap his fingers. But he saw Thanos's army turn to dust in a painfully familiar way. Then, he looked for Tony. Ready to tell him that they won. That everything was gonna be okay.

He wasn't prepared for the sight that welcomed him.

Half of Tony's body was burned. He was on the ground, leaning against some rock. Steve immediately ran to him, taking off his helmet and kneeling beside him. "Hey, hey. It's-it's gonna be okay. You'll be fine."

Tony looked like he was gonna say something but couldn't get any words out. In the end he gave Steve a week smile.

On Tony's other side, Peter was crying, held back by Rhodes. But Steve didn't look at them. No, he couldn't look at anything but Tony. "Please." he sobbed. "I just-I just go you back." Steve didn’t touch Tony, afraid of what will happen. "Tony please. Please don't leave me. Please, I'm-I'm so sorry." It hurt. It hurt so much to look into his eyes after so so long, only to see life fading from them. "I love you so much."

Right at Tony's last breath, the Stones on his hand started to glow, slowly desolving into him. Steve was pulled backwards by Bucky whe Tony started floating up. He was too shocked by the turn of events to even protest.

Everything that happened next was a huge blur. Suddenly everyone was yelling. Tony was still glowing and floating mid air. Strange was opening a portal to Wakanda.

They didn't even know what kind of medical attention would be needed for Tony. But Strange seemed confident about whatever he was doing. To be honest, Steve was content as long as Tony didn't die.

Steve had somehow managed to fall asleep in the middle of this ruckus. He was stirred awake by Natasha. "So? How..." Steve cleared his throat when his voice cracked. "How is he?"

"He's...better." Steve almost fainted from the immediate relief. "Strange won't tell us what he did. He just said that the Stones have served their purpose. But Tony's alright."

"Is he awake?"

"No, Strange says he'll wake up when it's time. I don't know how long Clint will be able to handle his crypticism before he punches Strange. And honestly, I'm not gonna stop him."

Steve let's out a chuckle and sighs, mood dwindling. "Can I see him?"

"Yeah, that's why I woke you up."

Steve looked up at her with a small but grateful smile. "Thanks."

Tony looked extremely small on the hospital bed of Wakanda, surrounded by white sheets and pillows. Very unlike someone who just saved the whole world. The was plugged with wires and tubes and the beeping EKG machine indicating his pulse rate.

Steve slowly approached him and sat down on the bedside chair. He placed a hand on Tony's and was relieved to feel warmth. Despite being unconscious in a hospital bed Tony looked better than ever.

His skin was glowing a healthy olive tan. The aging lines and scars from years of being Iron man gone from his face and no sign of grey hair. He looked like a man on his early thirties rather than fifties.

Maybe this was a part of the many other things Strange refuses to tell them. But no matter what Tony looks like, Steve feels himself loving him more than ever.

It takes a few weeks for Tony to wake up. Even though Strange has sewed his mouth shut, Shuri says that it's his body recovering the severe strain and also adjusting to the changes.

All through it Steve refuses to move from the bedside. Occasionally, Bucky or Nat or Sam drag him for a shower or to eat but otherwise he stays rooted there. Rhodes and Peter aren't too different. Although Rhodes goes to New York for a few days to take care of whatever he can, Peter doesn't go.

He talks to his aunt and friends but refuses to leave until Tony wakes up.

Steve is grateful for the company.

He talks to Harley and Morgan almost everyday. They keep asking about all the people coming back and Steve says as much as he can. He knows they want to know about Tony. But he refuses to tell them anything before Tony wakes up.

His head hurts. Actually scratch that. Everything hurts. Tony has a feeling that the full body aching is his default now.

He tries to open his eyes and immediately regrets his whole existence. Slowly he tries again and after blinking a few times he gets used to the light. He a weight on his hand and looks to his side. There he sees Steve blissfully asleep on top of his hand.

Tony takes his hand out of Steve's grip and doesn't resist the urge to run his fingers through the blonde hair.

Tony can feel Steve stir under his hand. He sleepily lifts his head up and squints at Tony. Then his eyes wide and he sits up with a jolt. "T-Tony, you're awake!" Steve gasps. "Shit, wait here. We-we need to calm the doctors." and promptly runs out of the room.

It's almost a week later that Tony sees Steve again. After endless fussing of the doctors and a ridiculous conversation with Strange about how the Stones valued his sacrifice and gave him a gift, Tony finally gets to take a breath.

Rhodey, Pepper and Peter coddle (and lecture) him for hours. On any other day, he'd be annoyed. But now he only feels fond. He hears all kinds of stories. About how life was while Tony was wandering along the dust. (Don't say it like that Tony!) How Peter had grown up and went to MIT. (It's so cool Mr. Stark) About Harley and Morgan. (They’re both absolute terrors) About Rhodey’s marriage. (Hey! How could get married without me as your best man?).

He's only a little jealous he didn't get to take part in discovering time travel.

When Steve comes back, he doesn't immediately come to Tony's side. He stands at the door, looking unsure if he's welcome. Tony extends his hands towards him and instantly he has an armful of super soilder crying into his chest.

It takes a while for Steve to calm down. But even after that they don't talk. Just hold each other tight. Talking can come later.

Seeing Morgan and Harley so grown up had Tony desperately trying and horribly failing to hold back tears. They are so tall now. They talk about school and studies and trips when the other day Tony was teaching them how to eat properly.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, the meet up ends with all four of them hugging and in tears. More so, because he never thought there would a way for all four of them together.

He had noticed the changes of his body, of course he had. How he could breathe better. The strains of his body that came with age and years of fighting, gone. But he truly sees them when he looks at the mirror the first time.

He looks a bit too young for his taste. Oh well, no point in complaining now. Tony was pretty sure he had an accelerated healing factor and enhanced senses. Maybe even super strength. He couldn't wait to get out of here and test them all.

The first thing he did after reaching The Compound was get a coffee. Wakanda was truly a beautiful place. But the coffee there sucked.

Missing five years of life was pretty shit. Sim many things had changed and he wasn't there to experience any of them.

Steve and Tony eventually do sit down to talk. Like actual mature adults.

"I'm sorry." Steve starts.

"Stop saying sorry, Steve." Tony sighs.

"But I am sorry. I'm sorry for so many things Tony."

"Start from the first."

So Steve does. He tells him how he found out about his parents. How he wanted to tell him. How he kept delaying thinking that they'd have one more day together before it alm went to shit. How it was too late and Steve lost a thousand chances. How he reacted during the Ultron fiasco and the guilt just piled up.

Tony apologized too. For not being honest during Ultron. For reacting impulsively during the Accords. For trying to kill Barnes.

It ended with them imprinting on each other after seven years and sleeping with bodies held too tight.

Not everything was okay obviously. They had so much to work on. But, baby steps.

They try to fix a world that's too messed up, that doesn't want to be fixed. It's hard and they get hurt a lot in the middle of everything. But they don't stop.How can they?

After all they're the Avengers.

Fifteen years later, when he and Tony were married and enjoying retirement in a white picket fence house in the suburbs, Steve finds an old video on his phone.

As it plays he realizes it's the unedited version of their weeding day. The kids are running around, adults chatting and laughing. Everyone with a bright smile on their faces.

Right when the video stops playing, Steve knows that his whole life is perfect now.

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findroleplay · 1 year

Note

Officially back on my Cherik bullshit.

There is a lot more information in the various links so I'll just keep this short & & sweet . You are preferably 24-25+ , with few triggers , enjoys a solid mix of smut and plot && good with one-liners or multi-paragraph depending on dialogue/action flow . I can play either ERIK (I have the most experience with Erik , and many different versions ) or CHARLES ( I have a couple of versions, my Charles is always disabled , my Charles is more canon - centric than my Erik /s ) . Discord is Weemie#2844 , feel free to reach out .

AUs are my shit . If you play Erik please pick a Jewish face - claim . Under no circumstances will I ever accept any of X - Men Apocalypse as canon . Destroying Auschwitz was a chillul hashem and Erik would NEVER .

Word bank ; diplomacy / foreign language , CIA , military , college , teacher / student , teacher / parent , parenting , soldier / civilian , clinician / patient , TiMER , sentinel / guide , ds!verse , abo!verse , time travel , poetry , narrative fuckery , experimental , telepathy , soulmates , bonds , true love , trauma , recovery , abuse , WWII , modern historical , war , cultural discrepancy , fish out of water , sci - fi , star trek redux , blah la la la ! If you have an idea you want to do , feel free to approach me . Please PICK THE PLOT / AU you would like to do beforehand ( there are several ideas spread out over the links & & around my Erik blog as well . )

#roleplay #rp #x men rp

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ijustwannaasksomething · 3 years

Text

>Welcome

Hi I'm an ex-player and I write League of Legends fanfiction. I update every friday.

On this blog you'll find

previews (of the next chapter of the current ongoing fic)

artworks amazing people drew for the things I write (they're the best, may the leaves they step on always be crunchy)

artworks I like (most of the time champs I'm currently writing about)

asks you send me (about whatever I'm not picky as long as you're kind, let's fangirl and chat together <3)

DMs are always open

If you like any of the AUs I write and want to create something in them too, don't hestiate to do so. Sharing ideas is what makes a fandom great. Send me your works so we can fangirl together!

>League Fanfic Master List (sorted by couples with links)

League of Legends Fanfic Prompt Exchange

My AO3 Account

Sona/Draven

Soft Sounds (posted, ongoing) [Arena AU, slow burn]

Soft Sounds - Moments (posted, ongoing) [unused scenes and prompts of Soft Sounds]

Look At Us (posted, ongoing) [OneShot collection]

I‘m Back On My Bullshit (posted, finished) [OneShot, 5+1 Times, Modern AU]

Never Back Together (posted, finished) [OneShot, sequel to "I'm Back On My Bullshit", Modern AU]

'Stuck with you' (planned) [Modern AU, fake dating]

'Witches and Wolves' (planned) [Modern werewolf AU]

another werewolf story (planned) [Fantasy werewolf AU]

Sentinel Sona/ Ruined Draven (planned)

maybe a kid fic

Tryndamere/Ashe

I Follow You (posted, finished) [OneShot]

'My Journey With You' (planned, half written) [slow burn, meeting story]

'Witches and Wolves' (planned) [Modern werewolf AU]

Another werewolf story (planned) [Fantasy werewolf AU]

Modern AU (loose idea collection)

Kai'Sa/Sivir

Series: Seasons of Love (posted, ongoing) [KDA Kai'Sa, Pizza Delivery Sivir] Meeting (posted) Practice (posted) Charade (posted)

Sivir/Cassipoeia

Change The Weather (posted, ongoing) [Lighthearted]

Vi/Caitlyn

In Your Orbit (posted, finished) [Brothel AU] In Your Orbit russian translation by tea_ghosttt

Sylas/Lux

Eyecandy (posted, finished) [Modern AU]

Other Champs

Gossip Girl-esque series with several champs (planned) [Lux, Sylas, Jarvan, Garen, Katarina, Xin XZhao, Draven, Sona, Darius, TF, Graves, Kayle, Swain, Morgana, LeBlanc]

#league of legends fanfiction #league of legends #ao3 fanfiction #ashe #tryndamere #sivir #cassiopeia #kai'sa #sona #draven #fanfiction #vi #caitlyn

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purplepri · 4 years

Text

My Drarry fanfic Masterlist

I've been meaning to make this list for a long time now, but my laziness didn't let me. Well, better later than never, so there it goes.

Disclaimer: this fics are from my personal taste. Many of them came from the always fabulous @drarryspecificrecs and @drarryspecificrecsdaily, so make sure to look their recs since it's more diverse. English it's not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. And I will do my very best to not spoil any of it, so my summaries are going to be short.

Long-fic

A Biding Promise by emeraldvssilver [E, +18]

“I choose you Harry. I’m yours. I think… I think I always was. Never could quite stop looking at you, or thinking about you.”

“Draco, I promise you I will protect you. With everything I am, and everything I have, I will protect you.”

Harry's power was an immovable force of nature, and Draco's magic parted for it like it was welcoming an old lover back into it's warm embrace. The Oath took root around Harry's core as he unwittingly bound himself to Draco, and bound himself to his promise.

It's hot, and cute, and I love the magical bond trope so much!!!!

Secrets by Vorabiza [E, +18]

Beginning with Draco's unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry's summer after sixth year becomes filled with activity and many secrets. As his summer progresses, Harry generates several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of the Light side.

I can't start to describe this one. I've read it instead of the book I was supposed to read for lit class, and I seriously don't regret it. The best of the best!!!!!!!

Safety by vivi1138 [M, +18]

Cedric Diggory is dead, Voldemort is reborn. Narcissa Malfoy knows what this means for her son, and she will not let him be Marked. Even if it means fleeing Britain.

With Amelia Bones' help, a safe haven welcomes six teenagers who have no wish to bow to Voldemort. The only catch? They'll need to adapt to a Muggle lifestyle.

With private teachers to continue their schooling, isolated from the rest of the world, they certainly don't expect to enjoy themselves, especially after Harry Potter himself joins them.

A story where Umbridge wreaks havoc on Hogwarts and Harry is not there to see it.

Good lord, this one. It's a-fucking-mazing in every point, I love this one with all my heart... So beautiful...

The Chamber of Secrets and Half the Adults are Idiots by Des98 [M, +18]

"Harry Potter AU where Harry is hiding in the cabinet in Borgin and Burkes. And he sees Lucius grab Draco with his cane. And he hears the hiss, “What did I tell you?” And he hears the quiver in the blonde boy’s voice, “Don’t touch anything.”

And Harry knows.

Because he’s used the voice that Draco uses for the past twelve years.

He knows.

Because now that he’s lived with the Weasleys for over a month, he knows that that’s not the way that a father’s voice should be.

He knows...

All I can say it's that Harry it's a cinnamon roll, everybody gets called out for their bullshit, and this series just makes me so happy that finally every abuse Harry's been through is addressed and cared for!!!!!!

Finite Incantatum by Alysian_Fields [E, +18]

It’s the autumn after Dumbledore’s death, the Death Eaters are steadily gaining power, and Harry and his friends are desperate to find the remaining Horcruxes. But then Draco Malfoy arrives at Grimmauld Place, traumatised, starved and drained of all his magical ability. It falls to Harry to show the Slytherin how to adapt to his new way of life, never guessing that Draco has a few things to teach him in return.

This one it's phenomenal! Draco needs to learn how to deal with not having magic anymore, and Harry's the one that teaches him. It's so gooooooooood

Harry Potter and The Bound Prince by slashpervert [E, +18]

In HBP, there is a pivotal moment where things could have gone very differently for Harry and Draco. In the bathroom sixth year, Draco is upset that Harry has caught him crying and throws a hex. It escalates and ends in blood, with Harry nearly killing Draco by accident. In this story, instead, unvoiced attraction to Harry motivates Draco to take a chance and kiss him. Once sparked, their mutual desire and exploration becomes the driving force in the alternative ending to the series. Draco's "mission" from Voldemort turns out to be more complex than that presented in canon and their solution even more difficult.

Let's just say that the author's name is very fitting for the content they wrote... But, yeah, there's a lot of smut, but gods if the plot isn't amazing as well...

Dark Wizengamot by Emerys_Potter [T, +13]

Preparing to head to his hearing, just before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry learns quickly that Sirius' plans tend to get complicated. In a matter of minutes Harry becomes a Lord of the Wizarding World and in so doing learns that not all his friends are on his side.

Watch as Harry stands up for himself and shakes the Wizengamot, Dumbledore, Hogwarts, Voldemort and the Wizarding World at large for a spin.

Shout out to everyone who loves a good Dumbledore!bashing, Slytherins are people too, BAMF Harry Potter!!! I see you and I love you, please read this fanfic, it's going to worth it!!!!!

Easy as Falling by Lomonaaeren [T, +13]

Harry doesn’t really like the way things are going in the wizarding world. But who’s going to do something about it?...Him, that’s who! (Or, how Harry became a Benevolently Snarky Dark Lord).

I can't. I love Dark!Harry, it's just so EXCITING for me to see someone that was a light symbol fall into the dark and find strength and power there...

Short-fic

Harry Potter and the Sentinel Phenomenon by elissblair [M, +18]

Everything changes the summer after fifth year. Draco refuses to take the Dark Mark and must deal with leaving behind the life, friends and family he's always known.The Dursley's abandon Harry alone in the woods for a week, triggering his Sentinel gifts and leaving him hurting and in need of a Guide. Can two rivals put aside five years worth of antagonism in order to work together to save Hogwarts and each other?

I don't know what to say about this one... So cute and well written, I love this so much, OMG...

The Devil's White Knight by orphan_account [E, +18]

When Harry wakes up in an alternate timeline--a timeline where Voldemort was defeated long before the first war--he discovers everything is different. His parents, his godfather, his friends--and him. Harry must deal with the consequences of who he would have been if he had been raised by his parents, and figure out where he stands with his casual hook up, Draco Malfoy.

I love this one so much and often read it again just for the sake of it. Family it's a complicated matter, isn't it?

Azoth by zeitgeistic [E, +18]

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Alchemy, apprenticeship, mentor!Snape... What a ride this one is! But it's amazing, ugh!

One-Shot

Changeable Weather by tigersilver [E, +18]

They should be studying for their exams, but it's too hot, so everyone is just hanging around by the lake in various states of undress. Draco cannot cope with all of Harry's exposed skin.

You know... Summer vibes, beach(it's the lake of Hogwarts), Harry being all good-looking and that's it.

Breaking the Curse by GatewayGirl [E, +18]

At first, not being able to hire Slytherins didn't seem too bad, but now Auror Potter is taking it personally. If only Draco Malfoy didn't keep cropping up in his investigation.

There's a curse at the Ministry and the former Slytherins can't get a job in there. Of course auror Potter needs to be the one who breaks it, huh? And of course it's sex magic, huh?

Buy a Heart by xErised [E, +18]

Draco's cock hardens as he looks at the invitation to the charity auction; his golden ticket to one wild night of desperate sex with Potter to get rid of this inexplicable obsession. His heart whispers that one night will never be enough, but Draco is beyond caring. All he knows is that he will pay any price to have Potter over and over again.

Harry being a size queen it's my smut pet peeve, I'm not going to lie. But yeah, very hot sex all around the hotel room. That's it.

Crush by MissyMallow [T, +13]

Harry Potter; one gorgeous specimen ever created. Draco Malfoy’s crush.

This one made me so happy while I was reading! It’s amazing!

#drarry fic rec #drarry #fanfiction #mlm #fic rec #my favourites

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gerec · 4 years

Text

AU-gust 2020 Prompts

Masterlist

21 & 22. Professional Rivals AU + Futuristic AU (Part 2) - Cherik

Part 1 is here!

In the fifteen years since Charles and Raven left Earth IV to roam the galaxy, there have only been a handful of times when he’s been truly afraid that they might not make it out alive. The first had been their kidnapping at the hands of Tarkussian slave traders, when Charles has been a mere fifteen year old miscreant and Raven scarcely twelve, and they’d stolen away on the wrong freighter to get off-world. The time Raven had been bitten by a Morgoss serpent, when they went salvaging off the coast of the Froni sea. And of course the Arathor 7 ‘incident’ with Erik and Sebastian Shaw, where Charles lost his legs and had to have them replaced with cybernetic ones after spending two bloody months in a coma.

This particular mission is turning out to be just as bad for his health and his sanity, only this time, Charles is very much on his own.

‘Charles, where are you? We’ve got to get back to the ship right now!’

“I’m trying,” he hollers, ducking just as a plasma shot burns a hole right beside his head, the volley of gunfire deafening both here and on Raven’s side over the comms. “I’m pinned down here on Deck 4! Don’t wait for me; just get the others back to the ship now!”

‘Goddammit Charles I’m not leaving without you!’ Raven yells back, and he can hear shouts of agreement from Alex and Darwin through the comms, along with a string of exceptionally creative curses from a highly agitated Sean. ‘Stay there! We’ll come and get you!’

“You can’t.” He’s about two minutes away from running out of ammo, and waves of very pissed off Skoll keep slowly advancing towards him down the dimly lit hall. “There’s hundreds of them between you and me, Raven. Go. Save yourselves.”

Another shot, this time pinging off his deflector shield right above his heart. A few more direct hits and the generator will get shorted, and then the plasma will burn right through his damned armor plating…

If he gets hit it had better be a clean fucking shot; he’d rather die than risk having another limb blown off.

‘Fuck that,’ Raven snarls, ‘you don’t get to die unless I’m the one killing you, do you hear me, Charles? You stay alive until I find--”

“I love you,” he says, before cutting their comms, and rolling into an alcove so he can get out of sight temporarily and take a few deep breaths. He yanks the portable explosive Hank packed for him in this gear, arming the detonator to voice command so he can set it off as soon as Raven and the others get clear.

Even if they don’t make it back to the ship by the time Charles runs out of ammo, the resulting explosion should tear a large enough hole in the space station to distract the Skolls on their tail.

Let’s keep that option to the very last, shall we Mr. Xavier? I vote we try getting out of this mess the old fashioned way.

An explosion goes off behind him in the hall, distracting him from answering the telepathic message, or even wondering who can be talking to him from a distance with all the psi dampening tech built into the damn station walls. A wave of gunfire erupts from a previously sealed door, and suddenly Charles finds himself flanked by three other bodies, armored in the Brotherhood’s signature red and black.

Of course it would be just like Erik to show up out of the blue, and make Charles’ bad fucking day even worse.

“Fuck me,” Charles mutters, just as fresh wave of Skoll sentinels arrive and start shooting, pushing them all back towards the room where his would-be rescuers appeared. Even with help they can’t keep this up for very long, before the Skoll’s sheer numbers overwhelm them where they stand.

“Arm. Detonate at 50%. 5 seconds,” he shouts, as he pushes his plan none too gently into Erik’s head. Then he tosses the device right behind the Skoll’s portable shield generator, as Erik tears great hunks of the metal off the walls to seal them in from the blast.

The resulting explosion brings down a huge chunk of Deck 5 into the hall, enough to block - temporarily at least - any Skolls who didn’t get caught immediately in the blast.

And Charles finds himself still breathing and in one piece, well protected behind a massive barricade with his former lover and now rival, Erik fucking Lehnsherr.

He knows he’s going to deny it to his dying day, but it’s most definitely relief, but also feelings that makes him grab Erik’s face and pull him into a passionate, open mouthed kiss.

It’s also feelings that make him haul off and punch that same smug face, knocking him right off his feet and on the ground with a grunt.

Wincing, Erik merely rubs at his jaw and gives him a sheepish grin. “It’s good to see you too, Charles.”

“Don’t try and sweet talk me, Erik. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“He’s here to save you,” a voice answers, the same voice Charles heard in his head only moments ago it seems. “You were set up by my father, and by Sebastian Shaw.”

“Your father?” he asks, just as the helmet comes off, revealing long cascading blonde hair and a very familiar face. It’s Emma Frost, daughter of crime lord Winston Frost and the very one they’re supposed to be looking for, though its abundantly clear now that she requires no saving. “Fucking-- And Shaw! Again! How? Oh, god I’m never going to hear the end of this from Raven.”

Dragging himself back up and onto his feet, Erik shoulders his rifle and lets out a tired sigh. Charles does not think about kissing him again, or how handsome he looks with a new beard and slightly longer hair. “It’s a long story. Let’s get the hell out of here, and we’ll tell you everything we know.”

“I can teleport us to the Genosha,” the third Brotherhood crew member - who turns out to be Azazel - says. “It’s closer to our location than the Blackbird. You can call Raven and then we can reconvene with your team somewhere safe.”

“I know you have no reason to trust me after what happened, Charles,” Erik says, “just...let me help you. For old times?”

It’s a bad idea, he knows, spending any amount of time around Erik Lehnsherr, not only for his health but also for his still broken heart. So he’ll just accept the help off the station and get whatever information he can about Shaw, and then walk away and not let himself get sucked back in to Erik’s bullshit... Again...

"Fine,” Charles says, ignoring Erik’s relieved smile. “Let’s get out of this hell hole before my sister burns this whole place down.”

#gerec writes #cherik #professional rivals au #futuristic au #day 22 #part 2 #au-gust 2020 #august writing challenge #goddamn i love space aus!

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iphoenixrising · 4 years

Note

hey we haven’t heard anything from you in a while. everything good? How’s life treating you? All my love for one of my favorite batfam writers!💗💗💗

Hi babe.

Ah sorry, I’ve been super busy at work and with kiddo :( I mean, I’m still writing when I can, but it’s just time and motivation. My project has really taken off (reads as: expanded) and most nights I’m chipping away at the massive amount of documentation for not only a Java-based framework, but an entire Platform *sob* So, it’s just such a huge amount of old articles and brainstorming sessions and meeting minutes and just ugh. I mean, it’s kind of interesting to try tracking all these things down and figuring out how they’re going to work together since the developers (from 12 to 50-ish, my God and now they want me to read markdown and do pull requests for comments and shit because this is my fucking life) are still working on the platform services, the development environment, and all these fucking tools I’ve never heard of (Kubernetes, wtf is this thing??) so I’m learning a foreign language almost tbh.

Did I mention *sigh*?

ANYWAY, also some of the things I’m working on that are like Batfam are a little more...I dunno, just things that a bit harder for me I guess, but even if I write just a sentence or two, I still count it as a win.

But like...I said something about a Sentinel / Guide Au, and even though I’m at what would be a good stopping point, I’m not very happy with it :/ So, if you’d like to see kind of what I’ve been doing, I’m going to throw down what I’ve got below the cut.

Warnings:

DickTim, Angst

Sentinel/Guide Au

After he brings B back from time, send the Dark Knight back to Gotham, he gives in to things long overdue, and trains with Shiva–

–to be an effective Guide.

Years of suppressants made it literally hell without them, trying to keep his shields up, trying to push out the telepathic traffic suffocating him the second he opens up just a crack.

Shiva, of course, had been her cheerfully murderous self, plying him with the full onslaught of a powerful Sentinel.

"You will be drawn to us from now on, Little Bird. You will want to protect us, bring us back from the abyss. If you choose to allow your powers as a Guide rein free, then you must learn to fight against the urges."

The fucked-up part is–

–she's right.

If he wants to stay in the life, wear the cape and cowl under the new name, go back to the Titans (since they've been looking for him again, fly-bys and searches for his tech), then he needs to learn how to deal with what he can do and how to deal with the instincts that come along for the ride.

It's not enough that Shiva is in the middle of hunting down a few former students ("They have made...the wrong choices."

"That's rich coming from you, you know."

"We all have a code, Little Bird, and I am no different.")

but they managed to run into a few other Sentinels along the way.

He'd like to say he'd taken his ass beating like a pro at this juncture in the vigilante game, but the reality is, they'd had to take shelter in a shitty lean-to, so he could be tragically, metaphysically hung-over.

He gives up the cowl and suit, utility belt and sundries. He goes as a wrecked teenage American boy, changing it up from the last time he trekked behind Lady Shiva and took on her adversaries. He tries not to think about Dick or Jason, Dami or Alfred, tries not to think about the confused look on B's face in his safe house, drying his hair after a long shower, trying to readjust to the current timeline.

("You aren't going back to Gotham?"

"I still have things to do."

"...there's something you aren't telling me."

"There's a lot I'm not telling you."

"Come to me when you're ready, Tim. No matter what, you're always going to be one of my Robins.")

Instead, he learns how to keep himself, and the Sentinels around him, safe and sane while trying to stay two steps ahead of the next fight, the next clue, the next "training."

In Shanghai a few months later, he knows it's time to move on when people part ways for the brightly clad superheroes coming en-masse down the packed street for him.

Well, moving on it is.

Going back to the Tower, away from the Bats and Gotham and the Rogue Gallery (thinking about facing the Joker this raw and open is fucking terrifying), was the best he was going to get considering the circumstances.

Those circumstances being the pointed twitch over Kon's eye and Bart's very intense gaze.

"You were supposed to call, asshole. The OG Batman has been back in Gotham for like months and you've just been, you know, chilling with Lady Shiva?"

Tim, who is so out of bullshit at this juncture, feels better after a hot shower and some old sweats with a Superboy t-shirt, throws up his fucking hands.

"All right, fine. I never told anyone. I...I've been on suppressants since I was a kid, just like my mom. Guides..."

"It's not that bad anymore!" Cassie tries helplessly, the first to actually reach across the table for his hand.

The instant connection makes them both gasp. It’s a shallow one, just a dip under her natural shield (he knows it’s Cissy, the Guide that’s been helping her until now, bringing her back whenever she hits a Zone, recognizes the touch of their Arrowette), just a skim over her immediate emotions this thing now untried and how utterly calm he makes her just by hands lightly placed.

"O-ooh," is soft while his fingers tighten, his eyes sharpen, his shields constructing around her, his instinct to protect.

"Not necessary," Gar chimes in, still leaning against the door between the kitchen and communal entertainment room, "we're all good in the Tower, T."

Is what shakes him out of it, hastily pulling away from Cassie's hand.

"Wow." Wonder Girl breathes out, eyes soft and half-mast, looking at him dreamily.

"Nope." Because he can already feel the headache coming on, how her hand tries to grab back at his.

“We could fight better together, Tim!”

“Do you even know how strong a Guide has to be to take care of four Sentinels?”

In one terribly creepy singular move, Bart, Kon, Gar, and Cassie give him that look.

You know, aimed at his face.

"No one," Bart cuts in, eyes wide at the exchange, of Tim's aura warm and inviting suddenly stronger, reaching out... "Tim, T. No one has to know."

The flash of fear, a residual from the tunic, makes him hedge back a subtle step back.

Kon pointedly grips him by the bicep, over his shirt while Bart moves enough that his shoulder bumps into Tim’s ribs, halting the possible escape attempt.

“Okay, okay, backing off. New powers are about a bitch, not like we all haven’t been there once or twice.” Kon soothes over, taking small steps and tugging until Tim is moving with him closer to the communal kitchen where his seat is empty at the island, and they can possibly get proof the guy actually eats.

“Amen,” Cassie throws up a hand and is already digging through the fridge until she finds–

–the last grape Zesti.

Tim’s eyes narrow dangerously on that singular can, his body moving before his brain can take over because he’s sliding on his old chair, the can cold against his fingers, too thirsty for caffeine that he can’t even.

Sure, it’s a trap, but with these guys, at least he knows it.

“I’m very not ready to do anything remotely Guide-like in the field,” the soft ca-saaaa as the can opens. “You want me to sleuth, fight, and strategize, then I’m all for it.”

Bart is just suddenly in Kon’s usual seat beside him, spinning around in tight, fast circles, “you mean you’re thinking about coming back? To the life?”

“Dude, that would be stellar.”

Tim side-eyes his besties, “it was never in the plan to-to stop.”

“Can’t blame us for assuming, you know,” Gar grins toothily, “no Red Robin for a while, my dude.”

Tim goes quiet, staring down at the can between his hands, shoulders hunched over.

“At least,” Raven’s voice is smooth and soft, comforting, “tell us why now, Tim?”

“Why now?”

“Why begin training as a Guide now?” She clarifies, sliding into the seat across from her, and the coolness of her aura, not a Sentinel, but something purely Raven puts his frayed nerves at ease, makes it easier for him to find the words.

“I turned 18,” and he can’t look at them while he admits to it, “and...and I figured out who my Sentinel is after Ra’s kicked me out the window.” (I was fine going out that way. It was fine. I was saving Wayne Enterprises from the League of Assassins, I was fighting the good fight. It shouldn’t have happened that way...why did it have to happen that way?)

“Oh,” and Cassie’s eyes get huge.

“Ra’s al Ghul is your Sentinel?!” Bart fairly screams.

“No dude,” Tim rolls his eyes and finds his can suddenly fascinating. “It’s...Dick. He’s...yeah. It’s him.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Kon hurries, standing shock-still, “I didn’t hear any of that.”

“Not him,” Bart is gritting his teeth because dammit, why couldn’t Tim have been his Guide? The universe was totally, wholly unfair.

A muscle in Tim’s jaw flexes, his nose pinkening along his upper cheekbones. He blinks watery eyes, takes a deep, deep breath to try and keep himself under control.

“Yeah,” and Tim sighs a little, the ache in his chest more acutely painful when he thinks about that moment waking up in the Cave, Dick in the Batsuit without the cape/cowl combo smiling down at him, still painfully unaware of the connection drawn tight between them.

(He doesn’t need me. He’s got Babs and Dami. His Guide and his Robin.)

Getting the absolute fuck out of the Manor had been his first order of business once he’d come to, just sprouting whatever placating bullshit Dick needed to hear to let him go without much of a fight (this time).

Finding Bruce and staying the hell out of Gotham hadn’t helped the pull he inexplicably felt, or the pressure of minds around him that had sent him to Shiva in the first damn place. His Guide abilities were overcoming the suppressants, so he was out of time...and out of options.

Still, even with the training, he occasionally has the dreams at night. Not the usual array of awful nightmares from his real life, Jason shooting him in the chest at point-blank to make sure the job gets done this time, Bruce dying right before his eyes, turning into that skeleton husk Superman brought to them thinking it was the real thing, Damian sneering at him with the katana held high, spitting out how it’s time the real Robin took his rightful place just before bringing the blade down–

No, no, it’s even worse than those.

It’s shadowy hands touching him, the warm wet of a mouth over his skin and scars, gentle voice in his ear telling him how beautiful he is, how much he’s needed, wanted, how it’s not just because of what he is or what tunic he used to wear, it’s all because he’s Tim. He doesn’t wake up when his dream self realizes it’s Dick over him, those blue eyes taking him in, pinning his wrists down to look over every inch of his naked body. He doesn’t wake up when Dick starts preparing him. He doesn’t wake up when Dick kisses him hard and desperate. He doesn’t wake up when the tears dry on his face and their bodies line up.

“Mine,” his dream Sentinel doesn’t even hesitate, “Don’t ever run from me again. Do you understand me, Tim?”

Just before Dick pushes, he wakes up, panting and hard, his instincts going crazy enough that he has to meditate to calm down.

Cassie gently wraps her hand around his shoulder, making sure they don’t have skin-to-skin contact this time. “I’m sorry,” she smiles gently at his frown, “I know you and Dick have had some...issues in the past few years.” But he can read the guilt in her face. Back when everyone thought Bruce was dead and his cape had been yanked out from under him, Dick had sent Cassie to try talking some “sense” into him. She still feels awful for jumping on the same train everyone else had been riding, the ‘that guy is suffering from depression’ instead of believing he might actually be right.

(It still stings though, doesn’t it?)

He doesn’t say anything back, just looks out one of the big windows and pulls out of her hold to take a drink of his Zesti.

“But,” Gar quickly jumps in, “you’ll stay in the Tower and fight on the team again, right? Like, no more trips with World’s Deadliest Assassins?”

Tim visibly hesitates, pausing with the can up to his mouth.

Slowly, he lowers it, his eyes taking on a cold calculation that is and isn’t like their old Rob. “Like I said, I can’t be a Guide for anyone, and I mean that. Second, I told you the truth in confidence, so I expect everyone to keep my secret. Third, I’m not anywhere near ready to go to Gotham or face the Bats, so for now, I’m fighting under the radar. If those aren’t acceptable stipulations, I’ll grab some of my clothes from storage and be out of your Tower.”

“Storage?” Kon glances around at the team, “Tim, buddy, why do you think we’d have your stuff in storage?”

“I assumed Dick would already approach you about making Damian part of the team,” his tone is absolutely empty, emotionless. “And there’s no way both of us could be here at the same time, so...” he lets them put it together from there.

The look of utter devastation on Kon’s face makes him feel slightly better.

Coming back when Cassie, Bart, and Kon have his back, just like they were closer to the end of their YJ run, makes the transition easier than it realistically should have been.

And it really might just be how low the dose of suppressants are now, or that he feels comfortable stepping into Robin’s role on the team, just with a different name, a different mask. It might just be how Bart has a tendency to hover with that hummingbird energy coming off him even when he’s seemingly standing still, maybe it’s Kon’s TTK pressing at his back even if the guy is across the room, maybe it’s how he and Cassie have leadership meetings where they just binge watch reruns of Gossip Girl and eat ice cream to bemoan their woes.

But maybe, it’s how he can feel them pulling at his shields unconsciously. Maybe it’s how he can sometimes push back enough, can skim just the edges to get impressions of angry, sad, depressed and gently erect a mental shield without delving deep without permission, can give them the space they need from their intense senses and powers.

Just another way he can be the regular guy on the team, working under the radar. So much a part of his role in the first damn place.

He doesn’t realize it becomes something normal until they take the good fight a little too close to Gotham for his liking, but the choices were few and Luthor is such an incredible ass hat that Tim actually plays it down, dresses up as CEO Tim Drake to divert their baddie while the team takes apart his latest weapon of mass destruction on the down-low.

What he absolutely doesn’t expect is to leave the lobby of one of the most posh restaurants in Metropolis–

And walk face-first into Dick Gryson’s chest.

(Technically, it’s Nightwing, but really, this doesn’t make the sitch any better.)

A hand, black with blue fingerstripes, covers his mouth, and the sound of a grapple retracting is a pending oh no that he doesn’t fight the vigilante pretty much kidnapping him off the street in broad daylight.

He can only thank God it isn’t skin-to-skin contact because his inner senses are flaring this close to the Sentinel, his Sentinel, that he has to grind his back teeth to keep himself in check. He pulls away the second they land it on solid rooftop, shoving his sleeve back to check the team’s status on his hidden wrist computer.

Mission success!

“Imagine my surprise,” Nightwing growls, hand on his shoulder to spin him around, “when I find you having lunch with someone like Lex Luthor instead of taking my damn calls, Timmy.”

Stepping out of that hold is subtle because Tim is looking over the side of the roof, adjusting his tie to try putting some distance between them. “I’m undercover. Those are the things people like us do when we’re running an Op, Nightwing.”

Those whiteouts narrow on him, a trick only Dick can really pull off effectively. “None of that tells me where the hell you’ve been for the last year since you left to find Bruce, found him, and didn’t come back.”

His back straightens, eyes looking away when the irritation and heat of anger hits him harder without the nice little cocktail of suppressants and stabilizers, makes his own shields tremble at the burning sear along the edges of his consciousness.

Instead of saying something he might come to regret, Tim sucks in a breath through his nose and works through the bolt of pain, gathers his shields around himself to keep the Sentinel from unerringly lashing out at him again.

“What the hell are you even doing here? Recon on Luthor? For which nefarious plot?”

A black and blue hand slashes the space between them, “not even important, Tim. So, how about you call your team and tell them you’ve got some Bat business because we? Need to talk.”

“I’m sorry, what now?”

“You heard me. I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for weeks.”

“I sent back your case files, asshole–”

“Not about cape and cowl shit, Tim!”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now,” even though he does, he really does. He just doesn’t know why it has to happen now.

Nightwing, however, has had enough of the talk and with a whip of his arm has a bolo out and thrown, his natural speed as a Sentinel might be slower than someone like the Flash, but it still has Tim wrapped up tight faster than he can realistically dodge.

The sight of the vigilante Nightwing swinging through Metropolis with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises over one shoulder would be big news in the city if anyone had been bothered to really look up.

The hotel is nice Tim thinks while wiggling around on the bed where Dick pretty much dumped him. His fingers are already getting the bolo loose from around his upper body by the time Dick has the mask off and the Nightwing suit unzipped to flop around his waist.

The Gotham Knights t-shirt underneath is a new one since the old faded one got blown up in that little explosion in the ‘Haven a few years back.

Dick lifts and sets a chair down with a pointed clack, sitting down to watch Tim squirm his way up. He’s got the bolo loose enough to brace his palms.

“What part of I’m in the middle of an OP–”

“Don’t care,” Dick cuts him off ruthlessly, those blue eyes hard and jaw tense. “I honestly don’t give a crap about the Titans right now.”

“Well I sure as hell do thank-you very much,” Tim pulls the bolo off, tosses it across the room with an angry flick, facing his former mentor, former partner, former friend with those old feelings creeping up his throat to make the taste in his mouth coppery and bitter.

“The only thing I care about right now is that I finally caught up to you. The last time I even saw you was that swan dive–”

“I’m aware. Being kicked out of a window is pretty memorable, even for people like us,” he keeps it deadpan, keeps the anger and irritation, the feelings of shit like betrayal and it must have been so easy to throw me the fuck away.

“The point is, smart ass, you left the Cave and haven’t been back. You only answer my emails about cases and bad guys. But when I ask you to come back home, which I have, Tim, I don’t even know how many times, and I get nothing! We need you–”

“Why would I come back to Gotham for you?” Is what spills out of his mouth, something bitter and foul. “You’ve already got a fucking Robin to be your little brother, remember?”

Welp, there goes playing it cool.

But watching Dick jerk back like Tim had landed a physical blow was more satisfying than he wanted to admit.

“Are you kidding me right now? You’re still angry about that? I’ve explained to you exactly why–”

The irritation in Dick’s tone, obvious disgust when he leans back and crosses his arms over his chest is just about enough.

“You explained it just fine. You made your choice, so everyone just has to deal with it, right? Yeah, that’s really being my equal.”

Tim makes himself stay deadly calm and cold, moves his legs away from Dick’s to stand and take a few steps away from the seething Sentinel to adjust his tie and try to get his hands to quit trembling.

“I can’t believe you’re acting this childish, Tim. I’m really disappointed with you right now.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, Dick, disappointed in each other,” but it strikes him anyway in the small, sad place where he held on to the hope they could still work everything out somehow and at least go back to being friends. A small part that’s been slowly dying in degrees, and that last hit is enough to make it so absurdly painful.

(All those years in the R, fighting the good fight, being brothers, having each other’s backs, and it all ends here, doesn’t it?)

“What? I did everything I could do for you! I–”

“If that’s what you want to believe, then that’s fine. I don’t have any reasons to argue with you,” staring at his own reflection in the mirror, seeing the red start to creep over his cheeks, his eyes get overly shiny, Tim Drake straightens his spine and flexes his own shields.

He keeps himself together enough to turn on a heel and walk calmly to the door.

“Tim, just...okay, just wait. Let’s talk this out–”

He doesn’t even turn, hand already on the knob, just pulls open the door and takes a hasty step through. It’s only the first step, but Dick is still just suddenly there, trying to snatch at Tim’s wrist with a bare hand, managing the brush of fingertips over a pulse.

“Don’t leave like this,” Is the last thing Dick says before the electric shock slides up his spine, the pull to all his senses almost has him on his knees.

The touch has Tim lurching away, jerking his wrist up to cradle against his chest, the red burn of Dick’s emotions beating at his shields harder with just a simple graze.

It ends with Dick still in the doorway, braced against the frame, gaping, and Tim leaning heavily into the wall across the hall, a wince on his face.

Stupid metaphysical connections and shit.

The touch hadn’t been enough to, you know, like bond them or anything, but it’s widely believed True Pairs didn’t even have to touch to get impressions from one another.

“You asshole,” he seethes at that shocked expression.

“You feel like I betrayed you,” is low and thick, Dick’s eyes a little dazed with what he picked up through the momentary connection, “it hurt you so much when I made Dami my Robin because I didn’t even talk to you, I didn’t trust you. You think I just threw you out of my life. How could I ever do that to you...?”

If Tim was a better Guide, on a higher dose of suppressants, he would have been able to keep himself closed off enough that if they did manage to touch, he could have kept Dick out of his shields, wouldn’t have given him the ability to skim over shitty emotions.

If Tim was a better Guide, he wouldn’t have the urgent need to run.

But welp, here they are.

As the thought takes shape in his brain pan, that he’s in his civilian day-ware and can run down the hall while Dick –still half in Nightwing– is trapped in the doorway, his knees firm and his eyes dart wildly to the side, giving himself away.

And since Dick was Batman, is Nightwing, is a Sentinel, he sees the writing on the wall and absolutely refuses to let it happen. Dick shoves with his arms, darts out into the hallway, makes his suddenly weak knees work enough to shake up Tim’s plan, seizes the apparent Guide, his Guide, in a princess hold and get back before the door even starts to close.

“Put me–!”

But Dick folds his legs to sit with his back against the door, and wraps both arms around the struggling third Robin. He can hold onto Tim better than a bolo anyway.

The push at Tim’s shields is a pressure he isn’t used to dealing with, and it’s painful to fight against it rather than just let the tentative connection open. His hands curl into fists in his lap, trying to strain against the arms pinning him while concentrating on strengthening his shields.

He doesn’t realize he’s whispering, “no, no, no,” under his breath.

“Please,” Dick lays his forehead down on top of Timmy’s head, “please don’t go. Not now. I’m finally...Tim, I get it now. I swear, I get it.”

“...doesn’t matter. Too late.”

“That isn’t fair,” the smallest shift and Dick is breathing against his throat, making him shiver, “I just found out you’re...a Guide. My Guide. We haven’t even started yet. It can’t be too late if we haven’t had a beginning.” It gets worse when Dick breathes in his scent deeply, a noise coming out of his chest.

“We have had a beginning,” he bites out, fists tight, concentrating on keeping his shields strong but flexible, “we’ve had years–”

“And I’m not ready to throw all of that away.”

The pressure against his mental shields finally eases up as Dick raises his head, gives him a little shake to make him look up.

“You already did, remember?”

“I didn’t... I never threw you away. That’s not what I meant or wanted. Yes, I should have handled things better. I know that now, and I’m sorry I hurt you. I was sorry before, I just didn’t know how to tell you, how to make it better between us.”

Tim’s eyes narrow, and he doesn’t let up in case this is one of those diversionary tactics to put him in a false sense of security.

(They fight bad guys. Sometimes, they have to cheat, and he wouldn’t put it past Dick to do just that.)

“I don’t know what you think is going to happen here,” he finally tries, staring up into those blue, blue eyes (I trusted you once, and fuck if I’m going to let you do this to me again). “But whatever it is, you’re wrong. I’m not going to come back to Gotham and be your Guide. I’m not going to bond with you because the universe says I’m meant to be some kind of magical counterbalance.”

Dick’s expression crumples, his arms go a little slack.

“Tim, we’re...we’re a True–”

“I don’t give a fuck about True Pairs, Dick, not anymore. Babs has been your Guide since you both presented. She wants the job, she can damn well have it.”

It’s not a fight to push against Dick’s arms the second time and stand up out of his lap.

“You’ve loved me since the moment you put on the cape, Tim. I know you have.” When what he means is I know now.

“I loved you before that, you asshole, and you betrayed me. You don’t get that chance again.”

Turning away shouldn’t be this easy now that Dick knows the truth, but it is, and the very last parts of him still hoping, still craving, are just as easily–

–wiped out.

Dick’s eyes are watery when the door hisses and creaks upon opening, and it’s an automatic thing, reaching a hand up just expecting Tim to take it.

“Tim. Timmy, please.”

“Good-bye, Dick,” is already fading with rapidly retreating footsteps. At least he can keep some of his dignity because Dick will never know he falls the fuck apart as the elevator goes down.

Author’s notes:Here’s why I don’t like this: 1. I want to talk more about why Tim chose Shiva as the Sentinel to teach him how to be a good Guide. Like, I want to explore that dynamic more because I’ve never really had the time or space to write Shiva as we see her in Tim’s Robin run.2. I wanted to go more into the expanded senses of Sentinels and how to - hell, I dunno, make it seem to be a little closer to cannon maybe? Like point out some of Dick’s greatest escapes and be like part of that is due to his Sentinel power. 3. Dick says some shitty things, and I don’t give him any context. Like, at that point, he legit believes he did the right thing at the time, and look! Tim’s Red Robin so everyone wins! But yeah, once he got under those shields, the truth shakes him up. 4. I dunno, this au might not be for me. It doesn’t feel very different from some of my other angsty things I guess but meh. Who knows, I might fix it someday :D

#winter answers #with angst #and frustration #sentinel!au #Tim Drake #Dick Grayson #the titans!#my fics #my writing

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nishaapologist · 4 years

Text

Proved You Right (Fallout 4, Sarah Lyons/NB!LW - First Sentinel AU)

a small note: this mentions having a basement in Home Plate, but that’s actually because i have a mod that lets me stick basements down to have a bit more space to breathe. for the sake of I Did It In My Game So It Counts, there’s also a basement in this au too! so yeah. anyway have this gay shit.

(sarah’s pronouns are she/her, rookie’s are they/them)

—

“This probably comes as, like, no surprise, but man... I love this city.”

Finding out there was a balcony, of sorts, on the roof of Sarah’s home in Diamond City — home plate, as they call it, which was a name that’d flown right over Sarah’s head until Rookie had gleefully explained the term — had been a pleasant surprise when Sarah had thrown down the two-thousand or so caps to buy the place, clambering up the rickety old ladder to the roof on her first inspection of the house only to find herself in a little sitting area that overlooked the market. She hadn’t made great use of it right away, more interested in the basement underneath that would later become her new base(ment) of operations in the Commonwealth, but then Rookie had shown up to Diamond City on the coattails of a local merchant, and now they spend near every evening sitting in the shell of an old caravan that’s been welded down to the corrugated sheets of the roof, drinking lukewarm beer as they listen to Myrna holler anti-synth slogans, or quietly singing along to songs on the radio until exhaustion makes all the words collapse into mumbles.

It’s a moment of peace, of relaxation, in a time increasingly fraught with battles and tension, and Sarah actually looks forward to tinkering with weapons or armour on her lap at the end of the day, Rookie beside her and resting on an old sunlounger as they hum along to the radio. It helps to put things into perspective, rather than grinding herself down to a sliver as — many years ago — she would have always done.

“I mean, I don’t like the mayor, or his whole ‘no-ghouls’ bullshit or anything,” they quickly add when Sarah glances up from under her eyelashes, head bowed as she turns the extended magazine of a 10-mil pistol about in her hand. Back in the Citadel, over a decade ago, weapon modding was never really a thing Sarah had needed to do, but it turns out that after years of maintaining Power Armor she has quite the knack for it. It’s just a bit more fiddly than she’s used to, is all. “But I really like everything else. The people, mostly. The market. The stands. All that stuff.”

Sarah snorts under her breath, squinting back down as the sunlight slowly dims on the horizon, a cool evening ushering in a breeze and making the hairs on her arms prickle. Spring is approaching the Commonwealth, the months quick to pass, and soon the most hardy of trees will be flush with life again, Ragstag fawns wobbling on unsteady legs, Yao Guai slowly waking from hibernation. It’s a new year, and 2288 is already shaping up to be an exciting one. “You sure that’s not just ‘cause we’re on a baseball field? Pitch?” Sarah screws up her nose. “Stadium?”

“Baseball park?” Rookie offers, though there’s no surety in their voice. “We called it the baseball diamond back in the Vault, since that was pretty much all we had space for.”

“Baseball diamond, then. You sure it’s not ‘cause of that? Isn’t this, like, your wildest dream, or whatever?”

Rookie kicks one leg out at Sarah, too far away for their foot to even hope of landing anywhere near her, but she jerks backwards to dodge it anyway, laughing at their grimace as they retract their foot. “Oh, please! I have bigger dreams than arguing with Moe fuckin’ Cronin about how ass-backwards he got his baseball rules!”

That first argument with Moe had been quite the spectacle, and one Sarah knows Diamond City won’t forget any time soon; Rookie had been checking out his stock with wide eyes, giving each bat a practice swing to feel the weight and heft as it arced around, and when he’d leant down to tell them how crazy Pre-War baseball had been — one team would beat the other team to death with things called Baseball Bats, and the best bats were called Swatters — Rookie had given him a public dressing-down that even Sarah had sidled away from, lest Rookie’s faithful bat, grasped in increasingly irate hands, accidentally found an arc directly into her skull by mistake. It had ended most excitingly with a lot of swears, intervention from the guards, and Rookie’s solemn declaration that they were never gonna buy bats from ‘such a dipshit’, and even now they and Moe glare daggers at each other from across the market, much to Sarah’s ongoing amusement with the whole thing.

As if remembering the same incident, Rookie takes a swig of beer, glowering off at the floodlights that shine down onto the city. “At least Alex agrees with me about him. This shit’s a dying art, apparently.”

Sarah pauses for a moment, and she can’t help the way her gaze tracks towards the far stands, glancing through one of the glassless windows to where ramshackle abodes sit, suspended, above the common rabble. Alex — or the Sole Survivor as some call her now, after her story about the Vault got published for hundreds of eyes to see, and for many more mouths to gossip about — had been granted a house in the upper stands by Mayor McDonough out of the kindness (or manipulation) of his heart, offering her a safe place to adapt to the new and unforgiving world she’d found herself in. Since they’d met, Sarah had struggled to get much more out of her than single-syllable words and pleas for her to find her son, but it was only when Rookie had shown up that her sturdy, Pre-War walls had finally begun to crumble, just a little.

Really, it’s because they’re a Vaultie, too — different experiments be damned — and it helps that they’re someone who was also thrown into the topsy-turvy world of the wastes with nary an idea for the horrors within. They might not quite be out of time, but they do understand being out of place, and when it turned out that Alex is (or, perhaps was) quite the baseball buff herself, they’d forged a connection that made her, initially, a little warmer. Nowadays, Alex is very nearly sociable.

But she still very much keeps to herself, and it’s enough to have Sarah worry. She sees a lot, maybe too much, of Rookie in her — back when they met in Chevy Chase, still new to this world — to be strictly comfortable leaving her to her own devices, but there’s not much else to be done. It’ll take years before she’ll ever really adapt, Rookie had said, years until she can really grapple with the world she doesn’t know. It’s just tough shit.

“Yeah,” Sarah murmurs absently, drawing herself from her rabbithole of thoughts, and Rookie follows her eyeline carefully, knowing exactly where she’s looking. “Well, hey. I guess you have to think of it this way; you and Alex make up two people who know how to play baseball, right? How many more do you need for a full team?”

Rookie laughs at that, sombre face breaking out into a toothy grin, and they slide even further down the lounger as their hat slips over their eyebrows. “Hah! Find me six more Vaulties, and then we’ll really be talking. I’ll be able to hit the first homerun in two-hundred fuckin’ years.”

“Wait,” Sarah says with a frown, doing the maths. Even to her ears, it doesn’t seem to add up right. “Only eight people? You sure?”

Rookie snorts, and then they reach up to take their hat off with a lazy pluck, eyeing Sarah up seconds before her vision goes dark as it’s tossed, haphazardly, onto her head and over her eyes.

“Baby,” Rookie coos fondly as she splutters, nearly dropping the magazine to the ground whilst she scrambles to whip it off her head. “Bold of you to think you can worm your way out of being our pitcher.”

The hat gets launched back at Rookie’s face, the brim making a dull impact on the bridge of their nose, and their shout of pain and laughter echoes right across the city.

#fallout #fallout 3 #sarah lyons #lone wanderer #rookie reeves #the first sentinel #my writing #rookie's internal baseball nerd is McFuckin Losing It y'all #i need to write the fic where they and sarah find that 2076 world series bat

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galysh · 4 years

Text

Hello, yes, I am back on my Bullshit IV - Fanfiction Edition I’ve got to admit that these Bullshit posts are rather fun. So, I’ve decided not to limit them to Vanitas no Carte. Anyway, we’re in lock down over here so here’s a compilation of my writing projects for 2020. Note, this is not a complete list of all my wips, I’ve only included those I’m actively working on. Somehow, I wound up with 5 different VNC AUs in the span of one month…

Vanitas no Carte//The Case Study of Vanitas

The Feral Gremlin! AU, can be found under the FGAU tag.

Basic Premise: 3 Paladins, 4 Chasseurs, and 1 vampire share a house. Aka that slow burn Rolivier fic, where they wind up adopting Astolfo, Vanitas, Noé, and various other children.

Estimated Chapter count: 76.

Status: Outline complete.

Attached short stories: Unbind me, Fight Me, and Break Me.

The Paladin Eye Color Change AU, can be found under the PECC AU tag and the Vampire Eye AU tag.

Basic Premise: In an effort to extend the lifespan of it’s chasseurs and heighten their chance of survival, the Church begins to conduct experiments on captured vampires. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

Estimated Chapter count: Unknown.

Status: Brainstorming.

Attached short stories:

The Dragon Age Inquisition AU, can be found under the Vaniquisition tag.

Basic Premise: It’s not that Noé dislikes living in the de Sade Chantry Circle, he enjoys it, honest! It’s only that - sometimes - on the rarest of occasions, he misses the feeling of moonlight on his skin. Anyway, DA AU feat Noé as the Inquisitor.

Estimated Chapter count: Unknown.

Status: Brainstorming.

Attached short stories:

The Criminal Investigation AU, can be found under the CIAU tag.

Basic Premise: Slow burn sentinel and guide AU, occurring in the 21st century with a dash of swordplay, a dollop of good old fashion pining, and the undying they were childhood friends trope.

Estimated Chapter count: 50+

Status: Researching.

Attached short stories: None yet.

The Mochidevil Institute of Academic Growth AU, can be found under the Daemon AU tag.

Basic Premise: The awkward courting of one Olivier de Vienne (professor of criminology and history) by one Roland Fortis, local youth pastor. Oh, and they’ve got Daemons.

Estimated Chapter count: Unknown.

Status: Brainstorming.

Attached short stories: None yet.

2. The Nightblade Epic//Underrealm Books

Underwater, can be found under the Underwater tag.

Basic Premise: The seasonal storms have struck again, leaving park ranger Albern Telfer wet and miserable, but the arrival of a handsome stranger might just liven up the monotony.

Estimated Chapter count: 4-6

Status: First chapter published.

That Jordel lives AU, has no tag as of yet.

Basic Premise: No good deed goes unpunished.

Estimated Chapter count: 1. 60k words.

Status: Being outlined.

3.Tales of Zestiria/Tales of Berseria

Do not go gentle into that good night, can be found under the Eizen lives tag.

Basic Premise: Laphicet wasn’t the only one to turn into a dragon.

Estimated Chapter Count: 3-5.

Status: chapter 1 uploaded.

Previous/Next

#hello yes I'm back on my bullshit #Galysh writes #Eizen lives #Underwater #Daemon AU #CIAU #Vaniquisition #PECC AU #FGAU

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rossumtrinity · 5 years

Note

So what is Megatron like in Trekformers?

the million dollar question!

the short answer is: i don’t really like megatron, especially in idw, for a whole variety of reasons. so megatron doesn’t get his mtmte season 2 redemption arc, but i haven’t 100% settled on what i’m doing with him.

in the present day of trekformers, he’s Full Shithead. in the past, he was kind of cool, but there’s not really any going back at this point.

the long answer i’m gonna go ahead and put below the cut, because in order to talk about megatron i have to talk about the whole federation-decepticon war. which is a lot. there’s another TL;DR at the end also. sorry i like to talk

(properly capitalized for ease of readability)

Megatron, at age six, was one of the first wave of settlers of a new Federation colony along the Federation-Cardassian border. A newly established colony a fair distance from the core of the Federation and very close to contested Cardassian territory is Not A Good Place To Have A Childhood.

Despite this, when Megatron applied to Starfleet Academy at age 18 he was a strong believer that, by joining Starfleet, he would be able to make a change. He had his life planned out: he would graduate from the Academy at the top of his class, become Starfleet’s youngest captain, and eventually command the fleet’s flagship and go down in history for his exploits. He’d be able to help people, to make change, to ensure others didn’t have to suffer.

During his first year at the Academy, Megatron was roommates with the Trill Orion Pax, with whom he became fast friends. They started dating in their thrid year, to the surprise of none of their acquaintances. Another goal was added to Megatron’s plan: He’d be commanding the fleet’s flagship, with Orion by his side.

In Megatron’s fourth year, he wrote an anonymous critique of the Federation standing by and doing nothing about the Cardassian occupation of Bajor. This caused quite a stir and, unfortunately for Megatron, ended his career before it ever started.

After graduation, Megatron and Orion served on the same ship for two years, before Megatron transferred to an out-of-the-way outpost, Messatine, where he hoped he would be able to advance his career.

A year into his posting at Messatine, and Orion broke off their relationship, stating their careers were headed in drastically different directions, but that he wanted to remain friends. This was bad enough, but Megatron also came to the realization that his critique of the Federation had made him no friends in Starfleet Command. The glorious career he’d planned was going nowhere fast.

By 2351 Megatron was a captain–but he was commanding Croteus 12, an outpost in the middle of nowhere, on an inhospitable, icy planet. However, his continued writings had gained traction, and he’d made a valuable friend in the form of Soundwave, a Betazoid with exceptional telepathic abilities. He’d also become aware that Starfleet was keeping a careful eye on him and conducting investigations on him. His resentment for Starfleet, and Federation ideals as a whole, only continued to grow.

By 2353 the Decepticon movement was named and had attracted a fair amount of attention, both positive and negative, including attention from forces outside of the Federation. Three Tal Shiar operatives, Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker, were sent to Croteus 12, undercover as Vulcan scientists, to investigate the Decepticon movement, hoping to manipulate what could become a Federation civil war in the Romulan Empire’s favor. Megatron ended up gaining three new, loyal recruits.

In 2357, Sentinel Prime, head of Section 31, was assassinated, the Decepticons defected, and the Federation-Decepticon war officially began. Initial Decepticon efforts were covert, keenly aware of the fact that they were fighting a war on two fronts against the Federation and Cardassia, a war that they would not win openly. This created an image of the Decepticon as ‘underdogs’ which, combined with Decepticon ideals and Megatron’s charismatic leadership, meant that the Decepticon forces only grew over time, including Federation defectors as well as recruits from outside of the Federation.

Over time, the idea of loyalty to the Decepticon cause soon became indistinguishable from loyalty to Megatron. When the idea of a “Decepticon empire” began to spread, no one questioned it. When the Decepticons shifted to more violent tactics in the 2360s, causing harm to innocents, no one questioned it, as long as Megatron was leading.

Starscream was one of the few who openly disagreed with Megatron’s tactics, stating he was unfit for leadership and losing sight of the bigger picture, prioritizing his anger and personal resentment over the movement’s goals as a whole. But despite being second-in-command, Megatron had ensured that Starscream had few friends and little support among the Decepticons for his attempted betrayals, none of which succeeded.

In 2368, Megatron authorized the use of biogenic weapons on Cardassia Prime, rendering the planet uninhabitable and effectively eradicating one of the Decepticons’ enemies. Cardassia out of the way, Megatron took control of Bajor, defenseless, its government in shambles. He claimed his intention was purely to help the ravaged planet rebuild–despite establishing martial law and occupying the planet with Decepticon forces, putting puppet leaders in power of the provisional government while he insisted he knew what was best for the planet.

In 2370, following the discovery of the Bajoran wormhole and a Whole Bunch Of Galvatron Bullshit (sincerely sorry to people who haven’t read phase 1 and want to know the specifics; phase 1 is a nightmare and I prefer to leave most of it Vague in trekformers to spare my sanity), Megatron disappeared. Without their leader, the Decepticons were left largely directionless, and many dispersed in various directions, with various new goals.

Megatron shows up again in 2371 for some Dark Cybertron But Trekformers Bullshit, and from then on Trekformers is kind of a shapeless mass in my brain because I haven’t figured everything out yet.

I’m not sure if I’ve actually done a great job Summing Up Who Megatron Is As A Person in all this… so TL;DR: He’s an idealist who came to realize that the people and organizations he believed in were corrupt and selfish. Becoming the leader of a movement of defectors only granted him more power and magnified his resentment and anger, leading him to resort to more and more violent tactics and lose sight of the ideals he once espoused, turning into a self-righteous despot and imperialist who believed he knew better than the people he claimed he was trying to “help.”

And I have barely touched on his relationship with Starscream here because we would be here for days, but it’s! Bad! Megatron is abusive, that’s really not up for debate here. He’s interesting in several aspects, but also he sucks, and he’s not getting a redemption arc in my self-indulgent AU.

#asks #trekformers #megatron #minerfromtarn #someone: asks me abt trekformers #me: cracks my knuckles and prepares to write up a character's #entire biography

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gothamcityneedsme · 5 years

Note

Batman au

@abysskeeper

Finally. This is from the 3 sentence prompt meme. Which I am still doing. Fucking. This one is the longest I think. Almost 4k words. I’m not looking at this anymore.

———

Trickshot frowned, the light of the computer monitors in front of him casting his features in blue light. His eyes flickered from screen to screen, but nothing notable was to be found. Usually that wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but they had already been tipped off that someone was on the move tonight, so it was tense, waiting for the pin to drop. Just watching and waiting, unable to do anything else.

The sound of the door opening behind him was hardly worth him switching his attention away—he could see the person entering on the security monitors anyways. But, he did call out a brief greeting, “Hey.”

He could see Jonathan wave at him from a subwindow on the monitor on his upper-left, and Trickshot smirked, amused—he had even waved in the camera’s direction, despite the fact that it was the size of a marble, not visible to most. But, of course, Jonathan could see it.

“Tavon,” he greeted as he stepped closer to the monitors, “I take it no moves yet? Never mind—you’re still here. So obviously not.”

“Mn,” Trickshot nodded.

They stood in silence for a little while, watching. But it was never long that Jonathan would stay quiet, not while they weren’t on a mission at least, “Sooo. Have you come up with a name for this place yet? I feel like we really need a name for this base, or center of operations, or whatever.”

Finally, Trickshot looked away from the monitors, raising an eyebrow at Jonathan, “My garage?”

“Yes,” Jonathan snorted as he propped a hand on his hip, “We can’t just call it that.”

“I don’t see why not. It’s not like anyone else is ever going to be here.”

“We can’t just say we’re ‘going back to Trickshot’s garage’ at the end of the day. We should say something that sounds cool.”

“No,” he replied, unimpressed, “Why do we even have to say anything at all? We don’t have to explain ourselves to anyone.”

“Ugh,” Jonathan let out a long-suffering sigh. Trickshot smothered a smirk. “I get tired of your dark broody thing sometimes though. It feels rude to just disappear on people. It isn’t uncool to say ‘bye,’ you know.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, don’t pull the fake ‘I’m-considering-it-but-I’m-actually-not’ tone with me, Tav.” Jonathan was grinning though as he said it, their usual banter making the time go faster. It was nice to take his own eyes off the monitors for a bit too, he could trust that Jonathan would notice something pop up even faster than he would if he were looking himself, and so he could take a moment to be at ease.

It wasn’t the monitors that finally alerted them though, but rather the ring of the communicator on Jonathan’s belt. Trickshot could see who it was before Jonathan even brought it to his face, the red heart emoji giving it away rather obviously. Jonathan, predictably, lit up, quickly clicking to accept the call, “Nexus! Any news?”

Trickshot lacked super-hearing, so he didn’t really have a chance to overhear, but that was quickly remedied as Jonathan tapped the side, activating the holo-interface of his communicator so that Nexus could presumably speak to both of them. Nexus’s face came into view, looking only mildly irritated, “I have received a call meant for the two of you. Since your identities are unknown and your communications are more underground than mine, you’ve forced me to become a relay. I don’t approve.”

“Oh,” Jonathan’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked far too apologetic for something that was hardly a concern—of course one of the most active heroes on the net was easier to contact, “Sorry about that! I guess we could open a line or something—”

“No,” both Nexus and Trickshot said at once.

“Stop bullshitting,” Trickshot frowned.

“Fine,” Nexus sighed, continuing as if his complaint hadn’t even been aired, “It was your ex-partner, Trickshot, back in your ‘Crosshair’ days. I maintain that that was a stupid name, despite how fitting it was for your prior job.”

“Did she say what she wanted?”

Jonathan looked at him in concern. He wondered if his voice was as tight as it felt.

“No, and I didn’t ask. I’m not your secretary. All she gave me was a set of coordinates.”

“Transmit them. And tell Sequitur that we’re out, it’s up to him to deal with anything that arises.”

“Fine. But I maintain that I’m not your secretary.”

“Thank you, Nexus!” Jonathan added, quick, just before Nexus hung up.

———-

“I can’t believe you made him hang up on us.”

“You’re still mad about that?”

“Yes! I’m trying to—”

“Yeah, I’ve seen your contacts list.”

“You can’t talk, you’re gunning for—”

Trickshot brought a finger to his lips and Jonathan immediately grew quiet, his eyes narrowing behind his visor as he turned his focus to their surroundings.

“Five o’clock, 40 meters,” Jonathan whispered, low enough for Trickshot to just barely hear him, “She’s got a cloaking device on.”

But, of course, Jonathan could see through something like that, attuned to even the slight shifts and wavers in the air.

Trickshot glided down to the rooftop, landing with ease, and he turned himself towards where Jonathan had said she was. “Bolt,” he greeted.

“Don’t pretend to be all cool,” her voice rang out as her form shifted, the cloaking device at her belt being deactivated, “I know you didn’t see me.”

Jonathan landed so that he was slightly between them, but without saying a word.

Lynnick chuckled, “Way to ruin his attempt at mystique, Sentinel.”

“Spotter,” Jonathan corrected coldly.

“Yeah, I’m not calling you that,” Lynnick hissed, emerald eyes blazing in a way that was both familiar and not. “I was his spotter.”

“Not anymore.”

Trickshot interrupted, not that he didn’t appreciate what Jonathan was trying to do, but they weren’t here to fight (verbally or physically). “What do you want with us?”

“You,” Lynnick corrected, turning her gaze to him alone, “I didn’t ask for the other guy.”

“Fine, just me,” Trickshot snapped, narrowing his eyes, “What do you want with me?”

“I’ve heard whispers of something I knew you’d care about, so I’d figure I’d do you a favor—for the last time you got me out of a jam.”

“…When was that?” Jonathan’s eyes flicked to him, sparking with uncomfortable uncertainty—he never liked it when Trickshot kept him out of the loop.

Trickshot shrugged, “Sometimes we keep up connections. Help each other out.”

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed behind his visor, but he said nothing more. He wouldn’t, not while they were in front of someone else. Later though, Trickshot definitely hadn’t heard the end of this.

“Stop interrupting, Sentinel,” Bolt hissed, “I want to get this over with as much as you want me gone. So let me say my piece so I can fuck off.” Jonathan shrugged, prompting her to continue, flipping her braid over her shoulder, “Great. Specter is planning another raid—yes, I know you’ve been following them. Every superhero has. But I know you don’t want her dead, and I don’t either. She’s a good distraction, and she gets my crew out of jams sometimes. But, she doesn’t like us contacting her, so I can’t warn her. And fuck if I’m going to be where the shit is going down.”

“What’s going to happen?” Trickshot asked, masking the spiking worry—it wasn’t surprising that it was getting risky for Specter and the rest of her team—there were a lot of people gunning for them. This could be…bad.

“They’re going to be stopped, obviously. Attacked. Police, SWAT, whatever else they got out there, I don’t know. All I know is that there’s gonna be a lot of brass and I’m out. And, sure, Specter is good at getting out of things, but she won’t leave her team behind, and I’m sure more than one of them will be along.”

“How did this information come out? What’s your source?”

“I know a guy embedded with the cops. He heard about it and was nice enough to let me know for a few hundred bucks. He’s never steered me wrong before, and this isn’t a trap for me or anything so the likelihood of him lying is, I assure you, quite low.” She still remembered his paranoia. And, he was sure she could go on for longer to disregard all of his concerns about authenticity. She knew him. He could trust that much. “Specter’s people must have a leak or something too—you just can’t trust people these days.”

Jonathan opened his mouth, probably to object, but Trickshot quickly interjected, nodding, “I appreciate the information. Tell us when and where and we’ll handle it.”

Bolt grinned, her eyes glimmering, “Oh, a part of me wants to come along just to see how you handle it. How you’ll get them out. Especially since you don’t want them to know you like them, right? A little…well, it’s a little supervillain of you.”

Jonathan stepped forward, fists clenched, “He’s not—”

She scoffed, “Please. Don’t delude yourself.”

“I’m not. I wouldn’t stand here if he was. I know him better than you do.”

Bolt turned, her footsteps sounding softly off of the rooftop. She stood near the edge now, looking back at them, shrugging, “Tell yourself whatever you want, Sentinel. Don’t come crying to me when he leaves you.”

With that, she tapped her belt, activating her camouflage, shimmering invisible, the distortion barely visible to him, until she jumped, disappearing below. The sound of a grappling hook could be heard firing into the next building, but Trickshot couldn’t discern where she was once distance was established between them.

Jonathan could though, his eyes cold on the horizon.

He couldn’t just let the silence remain though, he had to—to address what she had said, he couldn’t let her turn Jonathan against him. Trickshot quietly affirmed, “I’m not going to—”

Jonathan cut him off, “You don’t need to validate yourself to me.” He tore his gaze from Bolt, “I know you.”

He didn’t know how to reply.

Jonathan sighed, fumbling with the pouches on his belt to bring his communicator out, and predictably, another call was coming, a little red heart displayed on the screen. He clicked to accept it, solemnly scanning the information that was displayed in green over its surface. No voice or video this time, just the information, presumably the coordinates and time that Bolt was referring to.

Jonathan smirked a bit, swiping the message so that Trickshot could access it on his goggles, “I like how he says he’s tired of being our secretary but then tells us that he’s standardized how he’s sending us coordinates.”

“Of course you like it,” Trickshot quipped, a weak smile tugging on the corner of his lips, “You like everything he does.”

“Mhm,” Jonathan nodded, an ease to his stance now that Bolt was gone. “So, I assume we’re getting there first. Before they even break in.”

Trickshot shook his head, already running possibilities in his head, “We’ll just run into the authorities that way. We can’t be seen either—they wouldn’t understand our sympathies.”

Jonathan smirked, “Not when they’re trying to catch her too.”

“You and I both know she’s not what they think. That there’s way more going on here, we just have to figure out what.”

“Or ask.”

“Or ask,” Trickshot relented. “Either way, we have to head them off before they even get there.”

Jonathan frowned, “We don’t know where they’re coming from, only where they’ll hit.”

“Well, that’s half the puzzle. Surely with all the pieces we’ve been picking up about them, it’ll be easy enough to figure out.”

“Maybe for you, but I haven’t reached quite the same understand of them that you have,” Jonathan admitted, a bit sheepishly. “I’m not sure how much help I can be with so little information.”

“You can be plenty help. You’re my eyes. Come on, it’s only a few dozen blocks from here.”

“Why do I work for you again?”

———-

They were split up again, Jonathan on a radio tower a few blocks away, placed in the highest vantage point to take advantage of his heightened senses. Of course, their communicators still kept them in contact, Jonathan able to whisper so that Trickshot could hear him in his earpiece. He had told him to focus on the area north of the site—it was the least covered by the covert police and hero forces they could see since it was right by the waterway.

They had, of course, kept themselves from being detected by the other forces, which was easy when you knew them all so well. Better than Specter and her crew would—although they also knew how to hide. But, not knowing enough (and being limited in their mobility since they needed room to carry things out too) would hold them back from scouting to the extent that he and Jonathan could.

If only, a traitorous thought whispered, You were on her team.

Pushing it aside, he shifted his focus on the streets below, the little alleyways, the gratings that led to the sewers and the underground systems of the city—it was likely that those would be her choice of entrance. They were still a long way from her actual target, but they needed to catch them first. Before they entered the snares of the trap.

Jonathan’s voice whispered in his ear, “A shimmer of steel—Archangel’s wings fifty meters to your left. Alleyway grating pushed up.”

Ah. Specter’s right hand. They would be in two separate groups though, two entry points. Trickshot squinted to where Jonathan indicated, nodding as he caught sight of a brief flash, something no one else would notice, especially not from this far away. But, since he knew where, he could see.

“Keep looking,” he whispered back, “There should be a second group, that’s where Specter will be. We need both before we move.”

With a lack of anything else to do for the moment, he kept his eye on the small group of figures in black moving. Archangels wings were even painted black to blend in, but the slightest shimmer of their gears was the tell for Jonathan’s sight. From this far away Trickshot couldn’t identify the other members, but he was sure they were the profiles he had seen before. Perhaps a few new ones as well—her group was ever-growing.

“Twenty meters north and thirty meters west from your position—doorway of a building near a streetlamp. Probably has an underground entrance inside.”

Trickshot smiled, relieved, shifting his attention away from the others who he knew Jonathan would keep track of as well, tapping his goggles to enhance his own vision (although mere tech couldn’t compare with Jonathan), and just as he had thought, there she was. Alone—a surprise, but not too much of one.

She was sacrificial, he thought.

“You handle the others, try not to fight them. But we can’t have them fall into the trap. I’ll talk to her.”

“Don’t get distracted,” Jonathan’s tone was lilting, “Recall that you don’t want her to complete her mission this time.”

“I know,” Trickshot smirked, “I don’t get caught by such distractions so easily.”

“Ah, leaving the ‘like you’ unspoken, how unlike you.”

“Just try not to harm her subordinates. We’re trying to save them, not make things worse.”

“There’s only two others, I’m sure they’ll be amiable. I have a good reputation.”

“Oh, rub it in why don’t you.”

They could go on like hours like that, but they both had tasks to complete. He saw Jonathan glide down from the radio tower, landing soundlessly on the rooftop before running, heading towards where Archangel was. Meanwhile, Trickshot shifted his own attention to where Specter was starting to move, sticking to the shadows, and he would have to catch up to her quickly before she’d phase out.

He leapt between rooftops until he was closer to her, jumping down onto a staircase at the edge of a building. He allowed his impact to rattle the metal, creating a slight sound, enough to catch her attention. And it did, immediately her gaze snapping to him, alert and prepared.

He held his hands up, palms out, raising his voice only enough to be heard, “I’m not—”

Specter blinked out of existence underneath him, and before he could even think of where she would go, she reappeared, right beside him, soundlessly on the metal, her dagger up and ready a mere foot away.

He froze, eyes widening a bit, continuing as he carefully kept still, “—Intending to do you harm. I want to help.”

“You’re…Trickshot.” Her brows furrowed, green eyes bright in the dark. Slowly her dagger lowered, just slightly, “…Where’s Sentinel?”

So, she knew enough to know that they were rarely apart. He answered with ease, “Spotter is speaking to Archangel. And whoever else is here, I didn’t quite see who was on your other team.”

Her eyes narrowed, dagger raised again, “How did you know where we’d be?”

“Your operation has been leaked. A lot of people are trying to capture you, heroes and police alike. I caught wind of it and wanted to tip you off before you were in the trap.”

“How did you know where I would be?” she repeated, slowly, although she still didn’t quite seem hostile. It was starting to hurt, keeping his hands raised, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be seen as a threat to her, so he remained motionless.

“I’ve been observing your group’s actions. Reports, CCTV feeds, anything I could get my hands on. I’ve only run into you a few times in person, far off, but—” he swallowed, “I made an educated guess. And Spotter’s eyes did the rest.”

“You’ve…you have helped us, in the past. I noticed how sometimes our path would suspiciously clear, even though we expected a fight on our way out of somewhere—but never have you appeared before an operation. You’re with them, aren’t you? The people trying to get us?”

He was pleased she had noticed that much, at least, he hadn’t ever really been trying to hide, “No,” he replied smoothly, “They keep me out of the loop. I learned of their intentions from a contact—I have not been involved in their planning or their chase of you and your crew. I have no interest in labelling you as a foe.”

Her dagger lowered, again, this time staying low, and she took a step back (not that distance meant much for a teleporter). He allowed himself to lower his hands, but he kept them away from his belt. He continued, “I don’t want you to walk right into a trap. I know you aren’t what they’re claiming you are—and I don’t know what you are, but I’ve been wanting to know.”

He was usually skilled at reading expressions, but he couldn’t quite parse what emotion it was crossing her face at the moment. She seemed to be evaluating him, that much was clear and predictable, but he couldn’t discern what it is she saw. Did she believe him? Trust him, or at least trust his words?

“…How many are in the trap?”

“I don’t know that much. But when we were scanning the area, Spotter discerned that three blocks around your target is entirely stonewalled. They’re all undercover but there’s signs, equipment and practiced patrol routines that aren’t as normal-passing as they’d think.”

“…How much do you know?”

It was easy to respond, perhaps a little too easy to share his information, but he had been waiting for this for what felt like so long, to actually stand in front of her and speak to her, to be a more proper ally to what he felt was right. Even though he didn’t understand yet, he had seen the sort of things her people had been doing, and none of it was with true evil intent. “I don’t know what your purpose is. Or what your target is. Only where.”

“And still, you warn me? Without even understanding?”

“How am I supposed to understand with so little information?”

She let out a breath, the barest hint of a laugh escaping her lips, “Good point,” she mused, a corner of her lips tugging upwards, “I suppose that’s too much to ask of anyone when so much is hidden.”

“I want to uncover it,” he said, “I know something is wrong but I don’t know what you’re fighting.”

She stepped back a little farther, shrugging her shoulders, “You have to find that out yourself. I can’t just tell you. You have to see it.” Her eyes glittered, “Sentinel has good eyes. He might be able to, if you help him figure out where to look.”

He paused, unsure of how to respond to that, frustrated but unable to direct it towards anything. His fingers clenched slightly. Finally, he shook his head, “You aren’t still going to go for the hit, are you?”

She tilted her head, “Hm. No, not with the forces you described. This one wasn’t that important. It’s not worth getting captured, or risking my allies. Archangel agrees—Sentinel is someone even we’re prone to trust.”

He tried not to be too obviously relieved, but was sure that some of it bled through his façade, “Good. I wouldn’t have wanted all my efforts to go to waste here.”

She blinked, scanning him over, seemingly evaluating him again, “I’m sure we would have gotten out of it, but perhaps we wouldn’t be unscathed. While, clearly, we are now, even if our goal remains unaccomplished.”

“I’m sure you can plan accordingly later. In the meantime, I suggest you figure out the source of your leak. Someone who knows about your operations leaked it to the authorities, and they leaked it to my source. So…be careful.”

She nodded, “…Thank you,” she said after a moment. “…I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again.”

And, before he could reply, she vanished once more, and he didn’t see her reappear.

Jonathan’s voice crackled from his earpiece, “Archangel is headed back through the underground. Specter gave the order, but even before that she was listening to me. We aren’t seen as foes as much as you thought, Trick.”

“I’m glad whatever they were hitting is unimportant enough to drop.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what we’d do if they just ignored us. I guess at least they’d be warned?”

“Yeah,” Trickshot agreed. And as Jonathan chattered on about meeting back up and heading back to base (“Which we really need to rename,” he added), he was left to his thoughts of that scenario. What would they have done? Gone back after simply accepting that they had done all they could by informing them? Or—

Would he have followed her?

#abysskeeper #my writing #readmore broke initially because this website is fucking functional #tavon #jonathan #im not tagging anyone else #this got so long and i didn't mean to write this much for this universe that i dont REALLY INTEND TO WORK ON #GODDDDDDDDDDDD #this took FOREVER #shitpost

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