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steddiealltheway · 9 months

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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3

Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.

Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.

He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.

And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.

Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.

Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.

The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.

There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”

“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”

“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”

The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.

“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.

Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.

"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.

El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.

Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.

Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...

"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."

Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.

"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."

Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.

"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.

"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.

Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."

Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"

Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."

"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."

"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."

Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.

"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"

Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."

"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.

Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."

Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."

Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.

"Like who?"

Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."

"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.

"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.

Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"

Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."

Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."

"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."

"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"

Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.

Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.

With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."

"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.

Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve stares at the little list in the note.

One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa

Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"

Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.

Steve's heart pounds in his chest.

Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.

"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.

Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"

Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."

The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"

"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.

"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.

"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."

"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.

Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."

"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.

Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.

Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"

Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"

Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."

Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."

"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."

Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.

Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.

When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"

Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.

"So, where are the shoes?"

"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.

Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"

Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.

"Why?" Eddie asks.

Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."

Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.

Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.

Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.

Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."

It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.

"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."

Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."

Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.

"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."

Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."

"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"

Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."

Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."

"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."

Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."

Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."

Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."

Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."

Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."

They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.

The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.

"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.

Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"

"Hell yes," Eddie replies.

They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.

Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."

"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.

And it really is a merry Christmas.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #merry christmas #steddie christmas

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headkiss · 2 years

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Hi hun hope you’re staying warm! I’m sorry this is a last minute holiday one! I was wondering you could write a Christmas Eddie x reader where the party all do secret Santa and Eddie ends up getting reader? They aren’t dating just crushing and Eddie is freaking out because he wants to get her something really special *cue Dustin’s help* and it ends on a sweet note. Thank you! ❤️

hi love!! i hope this is good <3 it’s my gift to u, merry christmas | 0.7k, fluff, fem!reader

Secret Santa was a great tradition amongst your friends, and when Eddie joined the group, you were all happy to have another name in the hat.

It’s the second Christmas with Eddie around and you can’t deny that the holidays feel better with him. Brighter. You also can’t deny how much you like him.

You’ve grown close, and he’s so much more than what you were expecting. The crush started out as just that, a crush, and grew and grew until it became something huge. A certain four letter word kind of huge.

Though you’re clueless to it, the same goes for Eddie. He’s convinced that he was in love the moment he met you. His world shifted, something clicked into place.

That’s why his stomach drops when he picks your name for secret Santa this year.

He likes you so much—loves you, even—and he knows he has to get something special. He cares more about whether or not you’ll like your gift than he ever has for anyone else and it’s stressful.

Naturally, he goes to Dustin for help.

“Listen, it has to be really good,” he says. “Like really, really good.”

“You’ve said that like ten times,” Dustin replies, his usual sass present as always.

“Because it’s true! Help me.”

“Doesn’t she like to read?”

“Yeah. Loves it.”

“Get her a book. Problem solved.”

“Wow, thank you so much, Henderson. A book. How special,” Eddie deadpans.

“Make it special, Eddie. You know, with your pizzazz.”

Make it special with your pizzazz. What the fuck is he supposed to do with that?

Days later, Eddie finally figures out a special present to do with books. He worries over and over that it’s stupid, that you’ll hate it, but it’s the best thing he’s come up with (thanks to Dustin, after all).

Secret Santa occurs on Christmas Eve, and that’s where you are now.

Eddie greeted you with a hug when he saw you, holding you tight longer than usual, trying not to obviously breathe you in. Your smell, your comfort. When you pulled back, he was almost stunned by how pretty he finds you.

It’s not a new thought. He notices constantly, but sometimes it just hits him. He blames the holidays for it this time. You’re wearing a Christmas sweater vest, a plain long sleeve beneath it, and jeans. It’s perfect on you.

“I like your outfit,” he says, when he really means that you’re the prettiest person in the entire world, he thinks.

“Thanks, I like yours too,” it’s the same as he always wears, but he knows you mean it.

He’s a mess when the gift exchanging starts, his leg bouncing. He wants you to like it so much. He hardly notices when it’s his turn to pass his present, lost in his head.

“Eddie?” You move to catch his gaze.

“Hm?”

“It’s your turn.”

“Oh, sorry.” He grabs the present he spent way too long wrapping, hands it to you slowly, “Merry Christmas.”

When you take it from him, your fingers brush. Even after the contact, they’re left burning with the memory.

You unwrap it gently, like you’re trying to savor it. Eddie watches your face the entire time, eyes searching for any reaction. What he gets is a look, your mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ from surprise.

“You didn’t,” you say.

A chorus of ‘what is it’s sound from your friends. You’d almost forgotten they were there, too.

“It’s a first edition,” Eddie says.

A special book. Your favorite one, first edition, with a card tucked away in its pages for you to find later.

“Eddie, this is perfect.”

“You like it, then?”

“Are you kidding?!”

At his shy smile you can’t hold yourself back from springing up to hug him. He’s still sitting, unprepared, so you lean down and wrap your arms around his shoulders. His come around your back quickly.

You bury your face in his neck, press a kiss that’s so light Eddie’s not sure if he dreamt it, and mumble, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome, babe.”

With his arms around you, Eddie decides that he’s going to ask you out as soon as you’re alone. He can’t keep hiding his feelings when you’re the only person he’s ever felt them for. They practically seep out of him now.

Robin leans over to Steve, “how much you wanna bet they’re dating next time we see them?”

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labellefleur-sauvage · 9 months

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Slowly, Lucien turned his head and his gaze found hers. Everything quieted. The house’s inhabitants were gathered around Lucien, talking about what he could expect, but Elain focused only on the male in front of her. She tried to convey her apology and sorrow and want with her eyes, frozen with indecision and unable to say what she wanted.

Lucien stared back at her, and while she could so clearly see his own sadness and longing reflected in his brilliant russet eye, he gave her a small, slow bow and turned away. Elain’s stomach dropped. He was going to leave her, and Elain would be stuck in this house like a neglected piece of furniture, without the one being who had a hope of truly understanding and listening to her. She took a half step down the stairs at the same time Lucien turned to Rhys and nodded his head…

“Wait!”

...

"Take me with you."

OR: A divergent ACOTAR fic, in which Elain goes with Lucien to find Vassa during ACOWAR.

For the amazingly talented @stickyelectrons for the 2023 Secret Santa Gift Exchange! When asked about some of their favorite Elucien moments, stickyelectrons pointed out the scene where Elain and Lucien have their little barely moment before he leaves for the Continent from ACOWAR as one they particularly enjoyed for the tension and longing. I had a great time getting to know you and really hope you enjoy this first chapter!

Thank you for everyone involved at @acotargiftexchange for making this such a fun event!

Read on AO3

XXX

Everything was blank.

The woman blinked her eyes for what might have been the first or thousandth time. Everything was hazy.

Where was she?

She furrowed her eyebrows. The woman looked down at her hands. They were hers, but not. Similar, but not the same.

She stared out the window. Shades of colors she’d never seen before until recently greeted her weary eyes.

She became aware of her body. She was standing. Had she been standing long? It was unnerving, not being aware of herself, her actions.

Weariness overcame her, but she fought the feeling. She couldn’t close her eyes for more than a second. The woman dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands, pinched the transparently thin skin on her wrist. Anything to stay awake.

So she stared.

And stared.

Odd shapes and sights flitted before her unfocused eyes. Beings walked on two feet, like her, but with large, odd protrusions from their backs. Others had pointed ears. They all moved so gracefully, with an unnatural stillness and beauty to them. Is that what she looked like now? The woman’s heart beat erratically against her chest. Don’t think that, don’t think that, don’t think that. Another pinch to her skin rid her of these terrifying thoughts. She still felt a flash of pain from the motion. Surely the others around her didn’t eel such insignificant sensations. Her heartbeat remained, calmer, slower.

The skin on the back of her neck prickled, some primeval warning. Impossibly, the woman moved even less, turning herself into the statue she felt she had become. Sounds floated by her ears: a soft step, the barest creak of a floorboard, the hinges of the door behind her as they moved with the motion of the door. Silence for a moment, then the sounds again, in reverse: hinges, floorboard, step.

She let go of the breath she was purposely holding. Her sigh was soft but the voices from below drowned it out.

“…wrong with her?”

“…not sure… ever been Made… no other females besides Feyre to compare her to…”

Right. Not a woman, a female. Not a human, a fae. A flash of irritation glanced through her, but was quickly gone.

Elain Archeron’s shoulders slipped and she let her eyes relax into an unseeing gaze, her mind blank, until the next time her eyes closed and she was overcome with visions she did not understand.

She spent her days sitting at the window, gazing outside and letting the warmth of the sun soak beneath her skin and into her bones. She was hollow, so it never took long. Everything that used to bring her joy–gardening, new bonnets and ribbons, him–no longer brighten her mood. Thinking of her past life brought nothing to her, except feelings of despair and longing so devastating that she can’t compel her body to move, or her lungs to draw another breath.

So she stopped thinking about before, and she tried in vain to keep her eyes open.

She had a routine: each morning, Nesta–the only constant in either life–crept into her bedroom bearing a tray loaded with food and tea. The first few mornings Nesta had tried to bring Elain to the kitchen to eat her meals, perhaps coax her out of her shocked shell, but Elain barely had the strength to leave her bed, so food was brought to her instead. Her older sister picked out her outfit for the day while Elain stared at her, or stared at her breakfast, then graciously left Elain to eat and get ready. “For your privacy,” Nesta said. They both knew it made no difference, that Elain would perhaps take a bite or two of her food, and artlessly shrug into one of the many dresses that felt looser and looser each day, all for the sake of keeping up appearances, for clinging to the last bits of normalcy they both acutely remembered but knew they will never have again.

Nesta hustled back into Elain’s room after breakfast to fix her hair–Nesta always asked how Elain how she wants her hair done, bless her, like she thought Elain had a preference–before escorting Elain to the same room somewhere in this house they were imprisoned in for her to sit. She took her place at the chair looking outside, letting the sun bask over her alien body, her eyes open but unseeing, willing the heat from above to fill her with life like it used to.

So she sat.

And sat.

But today was different.

She knew when she woke up this morning that something would be different. She didn’t have a dream or vision–she would certainly know if she did–but something called out to her all the same. It was like a bug swarming around her head, an incessant buzzing that wouldn’t go away, soft as it was. It wasn’t until Nesta had escorted her to the sitting room that she realized what it was: a soft, rhythmic beating, not unlike a heart.

Something would happen, that much was clear. So, Elain did what she did every day: she sat, and waited, and waited.

It didn’t take long (or perhaps it did; how was she to know?) before the first change to her routine occurred: she had a visitor. Feyre, good, strong, Feyre was here, and talking to her. Elain remembered the first time when she had seen Feyre like this, after she became like them, and thought her foreign looking, but devastatingly beautiful; soft, yet still more deadly than the bow and arrow she carried and upon which all their lives depended on. Seeing her now, in this light, with different eyes, Elain distantly realized she was even more ethereal, too alluring with her shining hair and hypnotic eyes, her confidence and tenderness. Is this how everyone saw her, or did it take Elain becoming something she hated to realize how magnificent her younger sister truly was?

“I’m back,” Feyre said awkwardly, as if her presence wasn’t obvious.

“I want to go home,” Elain whispered, staring ahead of her outside the window. If anyone can help her, it’s Feyre.

“I know.”

A wild thought that made her chest burn. “He’ll be looking for me.”

“I know.”

“We were supposed to be married next week.”

It wasn’t just her body and life that had been ripped from her, but her future as well. Perhaps that was the worst of it, that everything she’d wanted and worked towards had been stolen from her for no other reason than a few monster’s cruel joke or sick revenge. She had felt very little other than complete apathy lately, but a feeling not unlike anger planted itself firmly behind her lungs and settled there.

Feyre was still speaking, and a man–male–she vaguely recognized took his place next to her sister. Not in a brotherly way, her mind supplied, but in a way that screamed familiarity, intimacy, like them presenting a unified front was expected and rehearsed, based on the easy way he slipped a gentle hand around Feyre’s waist. The male looked at her with kindness and pity, and spoke softly to her, but like everyone else here, it unnerved her. Elain wanted it to stop. No one was listening to her. “I want to go home.”

The beating became louder. Louder. Louder. She didn’t just feel it around her; it was within her. It stayed like that until everyone left, and Elain was alone again, with just her chair, window and the dull ache of dead dreams and wants to keep her company.

Fire everywhere.

A pained, inhuman screeching filled Elain’s sensitive ears. She tried to open her eyes and move her hands to cover her ears but she physically couldn’t, and so she was forced to witness the vision of a woman being consumed by flames.

Elain wondered if her own transformation was like this. No, she thought as she watched in open-mouthed horror as the woman–a queen, Elain realized, as the regal crown atop her head fell off and her fine dress turned to ash on her skin–before her was wreathed in flames. As traumatic as Elain’s baptism was, it was nothing like the immolation before her.

She smelled the woman’s skin burning, a sick, acrid smell that made Elain gag. Any hair the queen had has burned to a crisp. Elain stared at a naked, burning, bleeding, and raging queen, her yells of mingled fury and pain forcing Elain to witness the poor woman’s downfall. She breathed a small sigh of relief when the queen eventually crumpled to the ground and was still.

But it wasn’t over. Where there was once skin and now just charred muscles, ligaments and bones, small bundles erupted from the queen’s smoking and bubbling flesh, growing long and thin, and covered her entire body. Her head shrunk, bones popped and contorted, and a long, narrow protrusion erupted from her mouth. She no longer had hands or legs, but a tail unfurled from her lower back.

And suddenly Elain stared at a large, quaking bird. The queen was still on fire, but where before she was actively burning, now her body simmered and smoldered. The bird squawked softly, and small embers escaped from her beak. She tried to stand, flap her new wings to lift herself off the ground but was unsuccessful.

“The first moments after the transformation are always the most difficult.”

Elain hadn’t realized she wasn’t alone, too obsessed with the horror of a woman burning and being turned into a giant fire bird. She turned her head as much as she was able. A being–she thought it was a man–stared greedily at the queen before him, one corner of its mouth tilted up in a jagged smile. “How beautiful you turned out to be. You’ll be my most prized bird at the lake. Firebird by night, a throneless queen by day.”

Goosebumps erupted over Elain’s skin. The bird queen squawked again, angry this time, and feebly lifted her head, her small black eyes narrowed in hate. The woman’s strength made Elain pause; even after being turned into an abomination, she still had the will to fight.

The being behind her tsked. “None of that, now. You will become accustomed to your new form.” It turned to Elain, and the being grinned, all sharp teeth. “Even you.”

Elain woke early the next morning, and for the first time since she’d been in this house, she rose and dressed herself. She didn’t care what she wore or how she looked. Her feet took her to her usual room but she paused before she glided past. Not here, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered to her. Not today.

So she moved on. She wasn’t sure what else this house contained but soon she was in a library. It had a large window overlooking the town and sea. Woodenly, she sat and waited.

Eventually, Nesta found her, as usual. She offered a quiet good morning and kept a steely eye on her, but otherwise left Elain to herself.

Then, Feyre. Her younger sister, like her older sister, clearly didn’t know how to handle Elain or what to say to her, and so asked awkward, stuttering questions. Their heartbeats always quickened when they were around her, now.

The sound of their heartbeats still wasn’t as unsettling as the sounds from her vision. “I can hear the sea,” Elain offered. “Even at night. Even in my dreams. The ashing sea–and the screams of a bird made of fire.”

Feyre rambled on, talking about a garden that Elain might like to spend time in, but Feyre wasn’t listening. “Will the bird of fire come to sit in the trees and watch me?”

Feyre and Nesta left, their heartbeats uneven. The anger she’d felt before resurfaced. Despite her sister’s concern for her, they werent listening to her. The firebird, their own transformations–they were so clearly linked together. Human women transformed into something other against their wills, at someone else’s behest. Why could no one understand her?

A new heartbeat, loud, steady, strong. The door behind her creaked open, and a voice that tempered her frustration spoke. “You–you left your room.”

The voice, male, was barely familiar, but it wrapped around Elain’s body like a warm hug. Her chest tightened with an unknown sense of awareness. She’d never felt anything like it before, and it unnerved her. Elain didn’t answer, and the visitor took it as an invitation. “Is there anything I can get you?”

The male asked if he can help himself to tea (why not, Elain thought dryly, it was wasted on herself), then was quiet as he tried to keep a steady hand to pour his drink. He was nervous but he stayed and even dared to sit in Nesta’s chair. The male asked if Elain would like a biscuit.

Perhaps it was the way the male spoke to her: casual, unbothered, even though he was clearly tense around her, based on the way his heart beat faster than a horse at a full gallop. His nerves were…oddly endearing, though she wanted nothing more than to hate the being next to her.

Elain turned her head and met the gaze of her mate.

She was loath to admit it–the anger behind her lungs flared at seeing him again, the first time since that night–but he was handsome. If he were human, the scars on the side of his face and his odd golden mechanical eye would have been grotesque. With his lean face, with his brown skin and brilliant red hair, he was a picture of what she’d always imagined a fae would be: otherworldly, beautiful, and cruel.

He said his name was Lucien, seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court, which meant nothing to her. What did matter to her is what this male had done to her. “You were in Hybern.”

“Yes.”

“You betrayed us.”

Guilt flashed through his one remaining eye and it filled Elain with righteousness. She didn’t let up, though. “I was to be married in a few days.”

His face flushed. She could still read guilt in his eyes, but more than that, rage simmered in the lines of his face, in the way he held himself. “I know. I’m sorry.”

She blinked. She’d meant to taunt him, and had expected a cool aloofness, or a lack of guilt at his previous actions. His response to his deeds in Hybern, and the even more robust reaction to Elain’s broken engagement, seemed almost…human-like. Were all fae like this? Less mercurial, cruel and arrogant as she’d been taught and what she’d experienced, but capable of feeling pain and regret and passion?

It was a dizzying thought. Elain looked away, and extended an olive branch. “I can hear your heart.”

At the moment, she could do much more than hear his heart: she felt it beating inside her chest, keeping pace in perfect synchronicity with her own. His emotions rippled throughout her body, and a warmth she hadn’t felt for so long began in her chest and led back to the weary male sitting across from her.

If anyone was to understand her, it would be him.

“When I sleep, I can hear your heart beating through the stone. Can you hear mine?”

His face dropped, and Elain knew the words that will leave his lips before he spoke them. “No, lady. I cannot.”

The warmth in her chest fled, and she was as cold as she’s ever been. “No one ever does. No one ever looked–not really.”

Lucien left soon after. She moved into a new residence with Nesta later that day, with a garden out back. A different male, Azriel, sat with her outside sometimes, under the guise of keeping her company but she knew it’s only someone providing yet another pair of eyes to watch Elain.

She did not see Lucien for some time, but she still faintly heard his heart.

Time passed, and bit by bit, Elain felt better. She spent more time outside in the garden, sometimes alone, sometimes with a minder. She ate most of her meals downstairs in the kitchen or at the dining room table with whoever was staying in the house. It wasn’t back to normal, but it was something.

Eventually, a healer came to inspect her, and discovered what Elain already knew: that there was nothing wrong with her. She even had an awkward tea meeting with Lucien (and her nosy sisters and Feyre’s equally nosy friends). At one point, there was a tug from within her, unlike anything she’d ever felt. A tug, Lucien explained guiltily, on their mating bond. He apologized for unsettling her, but although the feeling was strange, she did not hate it.

These were all new experiences for her. The only constant in her life were her visions.

There were more now: ravens, and young hands turning old unnaturally fast, and a black box. Usually, they were one-off visions.

But she made frequent reappearances. Elain heard the former queen turned into a firebird crying out in anger and pain and frustration, and saw the woman transform from bird to human to bird again and again and again. She didn’t know the woman, but Elain felt a kinship with her: each somewhat dead, in their own way, and both different and changed.

It finally came to a head when Azriel–the quiet one, the intense one, the one who she could perhaps envision liking if he had some of the sunshine and light she so desperately craved–put a name to her affliction: Seer. From there, information flowed readily, and everyone finally listened: the sixth mortal queen–Vassa–cursed, and kept at a lake by some sorcerer with other women turned into birds. Vassa might have an army, everyone around her seemed to think, that should they break whatever curse that lay over her, she’d be inclined to lend her support to war against Hybern. They squabbled amongst themselves as to who should go. Elain felt a heavy gaze on her, and a heartbeat echoed in her head.

“I’ll go.”

Elain didn’t know Lucien well enough to form an opinion of him; in fact, everything she knew about the male could be considered ill-informed at best, and traitorous at worst. He seemed respectable and loyal, and he helped Feyre escape from the Spring Court, but he was still a large reason why Elain suffered so much now.

So why did her heart stutter ever so slightly when the male whom the Cauldron decided was her mate announce he would leave them–leave her–to find the firebird queen Elain has been dreaming about?

Lucien was resigned, his lean face even flashing with excitement when it was pointed out that his journey would be very dangerous. Lucien stated he wanted to leave tomorrow, and Rhys barked orders and commands to his crew as they all dispersed, one by one.

Then it was just the two of them. Unlike every other time they’d been together, now they were truly alone.

Lucien broke their silence “I’ve never been to the continent. Even if I wanted to go, my father…” Lucien chuckled wryly. “Well, perhaps it’s not under ideal circumstances, but it’s still an adventure. Have you ever been?”

Elain didn’t answer, and stared down at the embroidery on a pillow on the couch she was sitting on. She saw Lucien deflate out of the corner of her eye. “I ask too much,” he said blankly, rising to stand. “Take care, lady.”

“No!” Elain looked towards Lucien quickly. His eyebrows raised, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Er, no, I’ve never been. Though I hear they have such wonderful tulip fields. My father was going to take me, before…”

Silence again. “If I’m able,” Lucien said slowly, “I’ll try to bring back some flowers. Do you have a favorite color?”

Despite herself, the corners of Elain’s mouth tipped upward into the barest glance of a smile. “Yellow.”

Lucien mirrored her and gingerly sat on the other end of the couch. “Yellow it is.” A pause. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Take me with you. The thought came out of nowhere, and Elain startled herself. The idea was absolutely ludicrous. Along with it undoubtedly being dangerous, Nesta and Feyre would rather chain her to this couch than let Elain out of the house or be alone with Lucien for more than five minutes. If Elain suggested both, she’s sure her sisters would summon a host of healers to see if she had hit her head.

But Lucien was getting to experience something she’d always wanted, and he described it as an adventure. How often, after their family had lost its fortune, had Elain daydreamed of being swept away by a handsome prince or lord and journeying across foreign lands to their new home? Lucien was the son of a High Lord, so practically the same thing, good looking, especially when he smiled, and his task ahead was certainly a journey…

But this was the male who was responsible for ruining her life, in more ways than one. She was supposed to be married just a short time ago, Elain thought incredulously, and now she was debating asking Feyre’s traitorous friend to steal her away on what could very well be a one way trip.

“I wish to be alone,” she answered frostily, staring straight ahead of her.

“I’m sorry–”

“Don’t worry about getting me flowers, or anything for that matter. I don’t want anything from you.”

Lucien’s heartbeat, which had been beating furiously the entire time they were talking, stopped. He stood quickly, uttered a quiet, “Lady,” then departed without looking back.

Elain remained on the couch, blinking to keep the tears away and only needed to wipe her damp cheeks once.

Sleep hadn’t come easy to her since the night her life was destroyed, but Elain barely slept after refusing Lucien. She sat up in bed the next morning, biting her lip.

Lucien had apologized for his previous actions, been kind and gentle to her, and was at least making attempts to get to know her, even if it was for purely selfish reasons. Andnow he was leaving to go to the Continent, somewhere she’d always wanted to go, to find the firebird she’d been seeing behind her eyelids for months. It wasn’t fair. Elain clenched the bedsheets. While Lucien was off helping to save the world, Elain would be stuck in this damn house, feeling like an outsider looking in, unsure of who she was and what she was doing. They were her visions; surely Elain should accompany Lucien in traversing the Continent for this special queen.

Why couldn’t she go with?

Yes, Elain thought, her sluggish thoughts coming quick now. She should obviously go with Lucien to the exotic Continent, ripe with far-flung sights and sounds and wonders, to save this mortal queen. Anything to get out of this oppressive house and go somewhere new.

She wanted to contribute, of course, but the allure of travel, of leaving this mansion and the pitying gazes and attitudes of everyone in it, was too great to ignore. It wasn’t a want: it was a need, the need to find herself in this new body and world she now inhabited. How could she hope to live if she couldn’t find something worth living for?

She needed to find her sisters, Elain thought, quickly throwing on a robe, before he left. Quietly walking down the hall as fast as she dared, she turned the corner to land at the top of the stairs.

Elain gave a small sigh of relief. Lucien was still here, his long, amber hair in a braid that showed off his sharp jaw, cheekbones and scared flesh. Numerous weapons littered his body, from a sword across his back to daggers to a bow and arrow that surely Feyre would love to get her hands on. He looked ready and determined.

“Wait!”

Everyone turned to stare at Elain, standing in just her thin robe at the top of the stairs. The baby hairs around her face stuck to her sweaty skin but sje straightened her back all the same. Elain stared at Lucien, who looked back at her, his eye wide.

“Elain?” Nesta asked worriedly, taking the stairs two at a time to stand at her side. “Elain, dear, what’s wrong? Should you be out of bed? You’re warm–”

“Take me with you.” Elain ignored everyone’s faces, their eyes comically large and mouths gaping, and shook Nesta’s hands from her arms. Taking a deep breath, Elain addressed only Lucien. “I want to go with you.”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta snarled, pushing Elain behind her and throwing herself in front of her. “You’re staying a Continent’s worth of distance away from him!”

“And who are you to stop me?” Elain replied, stepping back in front of her older sister and taking a step down the stairs. “I’m not a prisoner here–”

“It’s not what you want–”

“Don’t tell me what I want!” Elain rarely argued with Nesta, even when they were human, but this release of the anger and frustration that had been building inside her felt good.

“And it’s dangerous!” Elain couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen such anger in Nesta’s gray eyes. For a split second Elain swore a lick of flame gathered in her stormy pupils. “You’ve never had to handle a weapon or fight, you’ve barely exchanged more than a dozen words with anyone, and now you want to join him on an unbelievably dangerous mission to find this bird queen imprisoned by a death lord?” Nesta gripped her head in her hands. “Explain to me how any of that makes sense? What has gotten into you?”

Elain didn’t know how to explain the pull she felt towards Lucien, or why she needed to join him on this mission. “Lucien will keep me safe,” Elain answered instead.

“Of course I will.” Lucien’s voice was strong, his eye no longer clouded with shock, at the same time Nesta muttered, “I bet he will.” The two glared at each other, and if Elain weren’t so desperate, she would find the staring match between her older sister and mate funny.

Nesta turned back to Elain, and the anger in her eyes had now filled with confusion and fear. “Elain,” she whispered imploringly, “please. You’re not strong enough–”

“I can be!”

“One day, yes, you may be.” Nesta took her hand, her skin clammy. “But you’re not strong enough now, in any sense of the word. You’re still recovering. Please, don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to me.”

Elain’s heart, already broken so many times recently, cracked again. She cradled Nesta’s hands in her own. “I think getting out of this house will help me.” She smiled wryly. “I’ve always wanted to go to the Continent. This way I don’t have to drag you along with me.”

Nesta shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “I don’t believe he didn’t cast a curse on you or something.” Nesta turned to Feyre at the bottom of the steps, who was looking between Elain and Lucien with a curious look on her face. “Feyre, tell Elain this is preposterous.”

“How do you think you could help Lucien?” Feyre asked instead.

“My visions,” Elain answered quickly, turning away from a shocked Nesta to talk to her younger sister. “If I have any further visions of the firebird queen or this death lord, that may help us alter our plan, or may save us if there’s any trouble.”

“Nesta is right. You don’t know how to hold a dagger or sword, or shoot a bow and arrow.”

“I can learn,” Elain said confidently, even while Feyre raised a single eyebrow. “Er, perhaps just the basics,” Elain amended. “And it would be more convincing if a pair of fae is traveling together, rather than just one. Distant family members on vacation, or something.”

Silence. Elain swallowed, looking around. Nearly everyone–Cassian, Azriel, Morrigan–shared shocked and perplexed expressions, torn between wanting to be anywhere else in the world but unable to look away from the dramatic wreck that was the Archeron sisters’ fight. Rhys had the same contemplative look on his face as Feyre.

And Lucien…while no longer surprised, his face and body were tense. His russet eye darted between Feyre and herself.

Feyre nodded her head. “You’ll be a liability to Lucien while you’re together,” she said, not unkindly. “He’ll have to protect not just himself, but you as well. You may be slightly more inconspicuous traveling together, but it will be difficult: you won’t be sleeping in beds, you’ll rarely have a warm meal, and there will be none of the usual comforts you’re used to. Your visions will certainly be useful, though.” She turned to Lucien. “Lucien, would you agree to having Elain go with you?”

Lucien could say no, Elain thought. If he were smart and in his right mind, he would have already said that by now. He could reason that it was too dangerous to bring her along (true); that she would only slow him down (true); that they’ve only exchanged a few sentences between themselves in which they tolerated each other, and this type of situation was not the time to get to know each other (especially true).

But as Lucien lifted his head to look at Elain, she focused on his heartbeat. It was violently beating before, hammering against his chest, but it had slowed down and evened out. Steady and calm. Elain knew his answer before he opened his mouth. “Yes, “ Lucien said loudly and clearly. “Yes, she can come.”

Elain didn’t pay attention to Nesta screaming at Feyre, or Feyre’s responding argument. The corners of Lucien’s mouth barely turned up, and he bowed his head towards Elain.

“Come.” Feyre laid a gentle but firm hand on Elain’s elbow and guided her back to her room. “Rhys will work out a new plan with Lucien. He was planning on roughing it through the wilderness when it was just him, but if you’re with him…” Feyre shot her a glance. “Well, that may need to be adjusted.”

Feyre practically shoved Elain inside her bedroom and locked the door behind her. “I don’t believe Lucien did anything to you, but you’re not under a spell, right?”

Elain scoffed. “No. I’m not even sure what magic Lucien has, but I know he’d never do that to me.”

“He wouldn’t, but I wanted to make sure.” Feyre let out a deep breath and leaned against the door. “Why do you really want to go?”

Elain worried her bottom lip. “I wasn’t lying when I said getting out of this house would do me good.”

“You’re more than welcome to venture around Velaris whenever you want.”

“But not without a chaperone,” Elain shot back. “I need to be free, without you or Nesta or anyone breathing down my back. I know you’re worried about me,” Elain said when she saw Feyre about to speak, “but I need this.”

Feyre stared at her, her gaze unwavering for so long Elain squirmed from the scrutiny. “You know, Lucien had the same reaction as Nesta did just now when he learned that I voluntarily stayed in the Night Court with Rhys.” Feyre smiled fondly. “He couldn’t believe it. Thought Rhys had brainwashed me or was forcing me to stay with him.” The smile slid from her face. “What we said to each other that day… Rhys thinks it extremely ironic that Lucien is now on the receiving end of such a similar situation.”

“Why did you stay?”

Feyre grinned. “The same reason, I think, that you feel the need to join Lucien on this journey: you need to leave to find yourself, and where you belong. Being with someone you have a connection with, whether you choose to act on that or not…it’s highly tempting, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if I want him like that. After Grayson…”

“You never needed Grayson or anyone else to ever be complete.”

Elain nodded. “If I have any opportunity to get away from this house, away from everyone…”

“You need to take it.” Feyre cocked her head and grinned. “Luckily, Lucien isn’t exactly hard on the eyes, is he?”

Elain spluttered but Feyre spared her from answering. “Come on,” she laughed. “I’ll help you pack.”

They managed to find a few pairs of Illyrian leathers that fit her, as well as various tops and cloaks in muted shades. Feyre tossed a pair of soft, brown knee high boots to Elain when she was changed. “You can’t take any more than that.” Feyre gave Elain an appraising look from head to toe when she was changed, then nodded in approval. She handed Elain her pack. “Hold that, carry it. How does it feel?”

Elain had watched Feyre pack more clothes, small garments and gear than she thought she could handle, but the bag was surprisingly light in her arms. “I thought it’d be heavier.”

“Fae strength took a while to adjust to, more than being able to hear and see everything. I broke quite a few plates and cups after I was changed. Come on, let’s get everything else.”

Next they went to the weapons room. Elain gasped. The room was filled with more weapons than she’d ever glimpsed in the Nolan estate: swords of all different sizes, spears, knives and daggers and serrated blades, maces, spiked balls on chain, bows, crossbows, even something that looked like a trident. Feyre eyed her up, then went to a rack holding spears of different lengths. “A spear would probably be the easiest weapon for you to handle. This one isn’t too long or heavy. Just point and poke.”

“I know how spears work,” Elain replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Never hurts to remind you. And whatever you do, don’t stab Lucien. I know how he can be, so try to resist aiming your spear at him when he gets sarcastic.”

Feyre also handed Elain some of the smallest knives she had ever seen–”These are no bigger than the pairing knives we had back in our home!” “Good, then you shouldn’t have any problems with them!”–then they made their way back to the foyer of the house. Elain grimaced with every step she took; the leathers were more uncomfortable than everyone made them appear.

Lucien and Rhys weren’t there yet. Elain set down heavily on the bottom stair. She was really doing this, she realized. She was stepping out of her comfort zone, leaving whatever solace she had mustered in this foreign house in this strange land, to venture to an equally unknown and dangerous land for a mission with real consequences, not just for her and her family, but the entire world. There would be no one besides her but a male she hardly knew, who was part of the reason why her life had been upended, who she would have to rely on for her safety. Maybe Nesta was right. Who was Elain kidding; she had no training to do this. She was being childish by insisting she accompany Lucien for no other reason than the need to find herself–

Lucien walked into the foyer with Rhys. Looking around, Lucien shot Elain a quick smirk when he saw her. Every worry left her. Lucien seemed relaxed and at ease, more so than he did this morning. If he wasn’t worried about their mission ahead, why should she be?

Rhys and Feyre were talking quietly to themselves in the corner. Lucien sat down on the stair a few feet away from her.

“I hope I don’t end up on the receiving end of that spear, lady” Lucien said conversationally.

“Feyre told me to resist stabbing you, even when you get a bit of an attitude.”

Lucien scoffed and put a dramatic hand to his chest. “I prefer to think of my words as being witty and charming.”

“She didn’t describe you in such flattering terms.”

“Feyre has a wicked streak in her as well. Are all the Archeron sisters known for their sass and willingness to run head first into perilous situations?”

“Perhaps if you don’t give me any reason to use this spear on you, you’ll find out.”

Lucien laughed, and Elain was speechless. Feyre wasn’t wrong–Lucien was certainly not hard on the eyes. An understatement, really. His long red hair was braided perfectly down his back and contrasted brilliantly with his rich, deeply tanned skin. His smile was bright and open, and stretched the light laugh lines around his plush mouth. The jacket he wore was tailored perfectly and snug on his arms. Lucien had large, broad hands that were resting between muscled thighs. Errantly, Elain wondered how his hands would feel like on her.

She grimaced. This was the male who was partly responsible for ruining her life with Grayson, and she was fawning over his dumb hands when he had done little more than offer a few flirty words with her. She would not be influenced by whatever bond existed between them and willed her traitorous heart to settle. Shewas accompanying him to the Contient for her own reasons, which had nothing to do with the male sitting next to her.

Feyre and Rhys walked over to them. “Alright, it sounds like Rhys and Lucien determined a new route. Rather than take you both to the edge of the human continent, like they had originally planned, we’re going to send you both straight east to Montesere. Since he’s taking two instead of one, Rhys won’t be able to winnow you as far. If he tried to send you any further south, you’d be far too close to Koschei’s lake.” Feyre shrugged apologetically. “We can’t risk the three of you so close to her territory unguarded. You’ll be much further north than we initially planned, so you might need to take a ship south along the coast, then head east into the Continent towards the lake.”

“You will have to make good time on foot if you choose not to take a ship,” Rhys supplied. “I’ve given Lucien extra provisions and money, but the rest is up to you.” He held out his arms to them. “Are you ready?”

This was it, the last chance for Elain to back out. Could she leave her sisters for untold dangers? Could she stand to be alone with the being she simultaneously loathed and craved?

Elain nodded. “Ready.” She gave Feyre a quick hug, then laid her hand on Rhys’s arm. Her sister grabbed Lucien in what Elain thought was a fierce hug, but based on the way she gripped Lucien’s shoulders and whispered something harshly in his ear and the tightening of his face, something else was at play.

Lucien detached himself with a forced smile and terse nod. “Noted, Feyre.” He turned to Rhys and gave him an equally tense look.

“Montesere is no ally, so I’ll only be able to winnow you two to the edge of the territory, and you’ll have to find yourselves to a port. I also won’t have enough energy to winnow you both to the Continent and glamour your appearances, so you’ll need to be careful not to attract attention. Do you have everything?”

Lucien nodded and laid a hand on Rhys’s other arm. With a quiet woosh, everything went dark.

#elucien #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #acotar #my fics #my fic #elain x lucien #pro elucien #another long-ish fic #i have this marked down for 6 chapters but who tf knows what'll happen lmao #acotarsecretsanta2023 #acotar gift exchange

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idontknowreallywhy · 10 months

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Estera - Ch 22 - Assist

Ok, time to find out exactly how squished she got?

Last one of these for a bit as I have to put this story back in its box and focus on that worryingly skeletal secret Santa fic in my notes…

What went before

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She unthinkingly dived into the road to retrieve the precious device and clutched it to her chest in relief. A squeal of brakes had her looking round just in time to see the bus plough into her and erase her from existence.

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…

That’s probably what would have happened, Estera told herself, as she knelt down to retrieve the crushed phone from behind the front wheel of the bus. She’d done the right thing. She couldn’t have saved it. Even so, she couldn’t help kicking herself. The bus had so nearly stopped in time but then the driver had kindly rolled forwards a few metres to better line up the door with where Estera was standing.

So close and yet…

She dragged herself to her feet and apologised profusely to the driver as she fished around in her bag for a credit card to pay with. Her annual public transport pass was, of course, stored on the phone along with pretty much everything else. Ticket acquired, she threw herself into a seat and curled up, her legs braced against the back of the one in front. She rested her head on her knees and tried to regulate her breathing. This was silly, it was just a thing. An inanimate object. She didn’t get attached to Things.

It was just that this one kind of had her new friend inside it.

The screen was completely shattered, but somehow the phone didn’t appear to be entirely dead - the message was displaying and by tilting it from one side to another she managed to read around the spiderwebbed cracks:

Can confirm that particular meteorological anomaly is also present in London 😮☀️ Also, hi! I’m free for a few hours, did you want to grab that coffee?

A photo was attached but with no touch screen control she couldn’t scroll beyond the top edge to view it… she only had blue sky and a hint of chestnut hair to go on.

Estera methodically tapped on every inch of the screen trying to make something respond but achieved nothing more than embedding a small shard of glass in her fingertip. She hissed and tried to suck it out, dropping her legs down and ticking them under her own seat as someone slipped into the one in front. She couldn’t help but remember the feeling of seeing her message had been read but no reply forthcoming and was filled with dread at what he might interpret her silence to mean.

“No no no no no I can’t mess this up again.” She growled in frustration.

The person in front swivelled round to face her. “Are you ok, Miss?”

It was the labradoodle guy from the beach. She nearly laughed at the irony that it would be the same person she’d hysterically accused Scott of hiring to follow her. His eyes widened as he recognised her and he smiled broadly:

“Oh, hello again!”

She smiled weakly and gestured at her phone “Hi. Sorry, just having a bit of a moment”

“Wow, and I thought mine was a mess.” He showed her a scratched and battered but intact device then held it out towards her “Do you need to call someone? You’re welcome to borrow it.”

A lifeline! She gushed incoherent thanks then paused with her index finger over the call screen. She didn’t know his number, why hadn’t she memorised his number? Because she wasn’t some hapless teenager with a crush that’s why. Nobody does that. Argh.

But wait… she rummaged in her bag for her wallet, hoping against hope she hadn’t thrown it away… Yes! The pet shop loyalty card she’d scribbled the emergency contact number on the back of when Scott dictated it over the phone that night. She’d tucked it back in there after saving the number to her contacts. She’d only needed one more stamp to get 10% off her next shop and with the amount Bez ate… the number was a little smudged, but legible.

Alright here goes. She dialled the number and a surprisingly cheery, singsong voice answered after the first ring:

“Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant direct line, how may I help you?”

Gosh she sounded young. Must be a recent school leaver. Estera briefly wondered how someone that junior could end up working for the Tracys.

“Hello, is that Dawn?”

“Good afternoon, Estera Hermaszewska, I am indeed Dawn, Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant.”

“H-how did you know it was me? This isn’t my usual, err, phone?”

There was a slight pause.

“A limited number of people have access to this number. As Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant I made an educated guess.”

“Oh, well, ah, ok that’s great. Um. So, hello Dawn, thank you for picking up the call. I wondered whether you could get a message to Scott for me?”

“Of course. What is the message you wish me, as Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant, to relay?”

“Thank you Dawn, he sent me a message but my phone just got broken and so I can’t reply to it and so…”

Frantic xylophone music interrupted mid-sentence and continued for half a minute or so before:

“I have relayed your message.”

“Oh, I err, thank you but I hadn’t quite finished.”

“In my capacity as his Personal Assistant I can certainly relay a second message to Scott Tracy.”

Definitely something unusual going on here. She didn’t sound incredibly experienced. Perhaps a family member? Maybe the poor kid was just working to a clumsily phrased script? Well, either way, Estera wasn’t going to make the girl’s job any harder by asking questions. She tried to keep her message brief:

“Please would you say I’d love to have coffee - I have a… commitment booked for a couple of hours but maybe he could meet me there and we could find a cafe afterwards? The location is…” she gave the details of the clifftop viewpoint carpark where she’d be meeting the rest of the group.

There was a brief pause then the xylophone music returned. Estera looked up at doodle guy and mouthed an apology, he gave a double thumbs up in return.

“I have made further contact and Scott Tracy has asked me to tell you he will be at the location you suggested within 60 minutes. He appears happy at the prospect of the meeting. Would you like me to connect you to his personal comm? Alternatively there are many other Personal Assistant tasks I am amply trained to perform?”

“Oh, thank you, ah no I should probably give this kind person their phone back but I will see him then. Thank you very much Dawn, it was nice to talk to you.”

“I am glad to have spoken with you too, Estera Hermaszewska.”

Estera hung up and breathed a sigh of relief, handing back the phone with a grateful expression. “Thank you so much, you saved me from a bit of a situation there.”

He smiled uncertainly. “He must be someone pretty special?”

“Oh, gosh, no! I mean, yes. He’s fantastic but we’re not… it’s not err… he’s a friend. Just a… an old friend. Well, ‘just’ is the wrong word really. Isn’t everyone special in their own way though? All of us unique and all with our own, err, specialities.”

The guy seemed faintly confused by her incoherent rambling but grinned anyway and put out his hand “I don’t think we ever did the name swapping thing - I’m Dave.”

She hesitantly reached out to shake the offered hand but he suddenly gasped and leapt to his feet.

“That was my stop, sorry!”

And he was gone, hurrying down the aisle.

She shivered and then mentally slapped herself. She really had to stop assuming the worst of friendly people.

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John watched his brother’s face light up as he realised he had a message from the girl… from Estera. Scott smirked and without warning dragged John to his side for a self portrait shot in which John looked aghast and Scott was pulling the kind of deranged face they would more usually expect from Alan or Gordon. He chuckled and began drafting a message. For a few moments John could have spontaneously combusted and it was unlikely his big brother would have noticed.

He had to acknowledge that in all the… Concern… he’d experienced surrounding Scott’s interactions with his new friend, for all his tracking of comms activity, asking EOS to correlate that with his heart rate and sleep data… he hadn’t actually spotted the impact on his brother at all. It wasn’t merely non-negative. He seemed… younger all of a sudden. Lighter. This was what Virgil had seen? John felt an uncharacteristic pang of regret for the usual physical distance between himself and his brothers. It seemed despite his best efforts he was still missing things.

“Scott, surely you’re not sending that picture are you?”

His brother grinned and with a flourish flicked the send button with the back of his index finger.

John groaned “Why would you do that?”

“It’ll make her laugh. I like making her laugh.” The tiniest crease appeared between his brows and a brief flicker of something unreadable passed over his face. Again John found himself both curious and apprehensive about the circumstances in which the two of them had first encountered each other.

It was somewhat ironic that the same person whose reappearance in his life had caused all that pain and confusion should have become a positive influence so quickly. For all Scott’s adamant denial that he had the slightest romantic intention, he was clearly already quite fond of her. John desperately hoped whatever this was going to be, an uncomplicated friendship or… anything else, that it was going to work out. It had to, he thought with grim determination. His breath caught as a memory intruded - his brother collapsed against him on the bedroom floor, sobbing in agony as his fever-ravaged mind tore itself apart. John would never forget the gut wrenching sound of Scott’s grief. He tightened his jaw and glanced over at the same man, now quietly smiling to himself. The universe owed his big brother a break and John would do everything in his power to ensure he got it.

“We’d better head back to Tracy Two and get you down to the Westcountry then. I’ll pop in on Penny and you can let me know when to come and pick you up.”

“I don’t know if she’s free yet. Slow down, Johnny.”

The “don’t call me Johnny” was a reflex of course but John barely knew he was saying it, being too busy reeling from the two words that preceded it. Two words he wasn’t sure the speed demon next to him had ever uttered together before without the word DON’T in front of them.

John looked down at the messaging app displayed on his brother’s comm, the one attaching the awful photograph had been delivered and read so, surely soon…

Scott swiped it closed and drained the rest of his cup. There was a silence as he ran a finger around the edge of the lid almost meditatively then he appeared to shake himself and, in a sudden movement, crushed it and swivelled to face his brother.

“So how’s Penny doing anyway? We’ve not seen her for a while.”

“Hello Scott”

They both jumped as a hologram of a familiar ring of lights popped out of Scott’s comm between them. John recovered first:

“EOS, is there a situation?”

“Oh, hello John. I have been acting as Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant and I believe I have performed exceptionally.”

John raised an eyebrow at Scott who looked faintly bemused.

“Well done EOS. What did you do, exactly?”

“I received a call from Estera Hermaszewska and recorded a message for you.”

Comprehension dawned in Scott’s eyes followed by a forehead wrinkle of anxiety. Estera’s voice suddenly emerged from his wrist.

“Thank you Dawn, he sent me a message but my phone just got broken and so I can’t reply to it and so…”

It cut off abruptly and EOS disappeared.

“EOS! Wait!” Scott clapped a hand to his forehead and John sighed:

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

“It was you who suggested it, John!”

“That may technically be true but short of you almost dying on live television I didn’t think she’d actually need to use it!”

“Now what?”

“I’ll try to raise EOS again, give me a second.”

Before John could raise his own comm. EOS reappeared and exclaimed excitedly:

“I have a second message for Scott Tracy from Estera Hermaszewska”

“EOS, wait, once you’ve played it would you stay with us so I can send a message back?”

“Of course, Scott.”

They could hear background chatter and then Estera clearing her throat awkwardly before

“Please would you say I’d love to have coffee - I have a… commitment booked for a couple of hours but maybe he could meet me there and we could find a cafe afterwards? The location is…”

John pulled up a map showing the highlighted postcode and Scott squinted at it then beamed

“Looks like about half an hour’s drive from Dunkeswell Airfield. Can you drop me there and I’ll pick up a hire car?”

“Is that the message I should relay, Scott?”

“No! Err no, could you say I’ll be there in about an hour?”

EOS disappeared again.

“Why don’t I just drop you in the field at the top of the cliff there? Last time I checked Tracy Two’s VTOL was working just fine?”

“No. I’d rather drive. I don’t want to use the plane… she doesn’t… it might… I mean…” his brother looked flustered “I don’t want to be all ‘check me out with my private jet’ when she could be with friends or something.”

John took a moment to contemplate what must be the first time in history Scott Carpenter Tracy didn’t want to be associated with an aircraft.

“I just want to keep it low key.”

“Good plan. However, have you considered what you’re wearing?”

Scott looked down at the dark blue three-piece Italian custom-made suit his TI EA had handed him that morning… was it Borrelli this time? John hadn’t been paying enough attention to be sure. As the token younger Tracy in the room it didn’t matter much what he wore, but as CEO, Scott had a certain image to maintain and Jennifer curated his office wardrobe with a somewhat terrifying zeal.

“Do you want to head back to the office and fetch your casual stuff?”

“Nah, someone will spot me and need something, we’ll get stuck there for hours. I left a sweater in Tracy Two, that’ll do.”

“Alright then Prince Charming, your carriage awaits.”

Scott cuffed him round the back of the head. John responded by ruffling his big brother’s perfectly styled hair and running away, chuckling as the man squawked in horror and chased after him.

“You are worse than Gordon, Johnny, I swear!”

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#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #tb estera #estera #EOS #The Commander and The Murderbot #PA Dawn #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #don’t mess with the hair

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woahpip · 9 months

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sleep until the sun goes down

happy secret santa @ruby-red-inky-blue! i tried writing lots of things with your prompt, but this one stuck. I hope you enjoy <3

Jyn hadn’t seen constellations until Lah’mu. Even though they lived on one of the highest levels of Coruscant, the skies were full of smog and cars and defense systems, all working together to blot out the shine of stars. Mum weaved the stories of them for her though, interspersing her own science lessons of what they’re made of between folklore. Storytelling gave Mum her shine back, and for a short while mother and daughter, with the help of the stars, carved out a few moments of true peace amongst their forced home with the Imperial military.

The stars on Lah’mu were not the stars of Mum’s stories, and there were few on the island who knew them well enough to share.

The island was freedom for Jyn, even though she was lonely. Mum and dad were constantly adding new wiring to their home. New alert systems for safety and for their farming, locked cabinets that opened via fingerprint with weapons for any occasion. When her parents weren’t working to keep them alive, they were plotting, heads always pushed together, voices brisk with quieted arguments. They drilled Jyn on several plans– one for another escape, for one or both of them being hurt. For someone coming to find them. Jyn played along and tried to understand why they needed to do this; the importance was there but she couldn’t quite get it. Things felt safe, so she was safe.

And since she was safe, she gave the stars their own names and stories. They didn’t have to run; they could fight. Little girls swung between their parents, eyeballs twinkling like flickering fire. People kissed, like mummy and daddy did on happy days where low clouds weaved over the island like a protective shroud. One day she would be kissed, she thought. She wondered if they would see her as stardust, like her parents.

(read the rest here on ao3)

#rcss 2023 #ruby red inky blue #my fanfic #rebelcaptain #jyn erso #cassian andor

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lavellenchanted · 8 months

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The Courtship of Peggy Carter (1/?)

When Steve returns to the 1940s, he knows he wants to be with Peggy, but he can't help but worry about how the years they have both lived through have changed them - so he proposes that they start dating and get to know each other again. But Peggy has her own ideas about how their courtship will go, and is a woman determined to get what she wants. Namely Steve. In her bed. Sooner than he seems to be planning to get there.

Read on AO3

Once again, happy holidays to you @margarethcarter! This is getting a lot longer than anticipated so I've decided to start putting it up in parts. I'm hoping it will only be two parts but it miiight stretch to three, I'll see how it goes. I hope you enjoy this first part though - it's up on AO3, but I've also put it below the cut for you :)

And thanks to @steggyfanevents for organising the Secret Santa exchange!

The music had long since stopped playing, replaced by the distant sounds of the neighbourhood outside - the birds chirping in the trees, children riding their bikes through the street, the rattle of cars passing - and the clacking of the record continuing to spin on the player, but they were still dancing, swaying slowly back and forth in a circle. Peggy had closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest and listening to the steady, solid thump of the heartbeat beneath it, feeling the strength of his arms encircling her and the lingering warmth where he had kissed her.

He still wore the same cologne. She had almost forgotten it, but breathing it in brought the memories flooding back in sharp focus; how he had held her close when they were trapped in a safe house in Bulgaria during a snowstorm, the too-brief stolen moments when they were both in London between missions, the last kiss before he had jumped on to the Valkyrie. Suddenly tears were gathering beneath her lashes and she couldn’t help tightening her grip where her fingers were curled into his shirt.

“Steve?” she whispered. “This is real, isn’t it?”

It had to be real. It had to be. She had dreamed of him so often, of his arms, of them dancing, but never with such vividness. And she had never dreamed of his cologne.

“Yes. It’s real. I’m real. And I’m here.” His voice was soft, but even so Peggy could feel the vibration of it.

Finally she lifted her head up and opened her eyes, and there he was. The afternoon sunlight fell across his face, making his hair gleam a burnished gold and his eyes shine a bright, clear blue, and oh, she still caught her breath to see him. There were lines on his face that hadn’t been there four years ago, at the corners of his eyes and mouth that spoke of smiles and laughter and some on his forehead that told of worries and anxieties.

He hadn’t said much when she opened the door and found him standing there - they had both been too overwhelmed and she had been too much in shock for any sort of serious conversation - but he had offered a short explanation of how he had survived the crash and travelled through time, enough to convince her that this really was her Steve and to spark a burning curiosity about all he clearly had to tell her. She hoped that his being here meant they would have enough time that he could tell her all of it, that she could learn the stories behind each and every one of those lines.

Which was why her next question was, “And this . . . you being here . . . is it for good? Or do you have to go back?”

Steve held her gaze, serious and steady, the way he always did whenever he wanted her to know that what he was about to say was something he had thought over carefully.

“I’d like it to be. I came back because this place, this time, is where I belong. I wanted to come home, to have the life I never got a chance to have. And I want, very much, for that life to be with you.”

For a moment Peggy felt as if she had forgotten how to breathe, her chest tight and her heart beating painfully hard against her ribs. She opened her mouth to tell him yes, that she wanted a life with him as well, but before the words could form he had brought a finger to her lips to keep her from speaking.

“But,” he continued softly, a tenderness in his expression that made her glow with warmth, “I don’t think that’s a decision either of us should be making right now.”

A faint frown creased Peggy’s forehead. “Why not?”

“Because of how good this feels.”

She couldn’t help quirking an eyebrow, one corner of her mouth curling upwards. “That’s a bad thing, is it?”

Steve chuckled. “No. I just mean . . . I’ve dreamed about being here with you for so long, it would be easy to rush into this. To forget that . . . a lot of time has passed, for both of us. And that we’re probably both different people than we were when I went into the ice.”

Peggy let out a slow breath. Part of her - the part that for the last four years had been filled with grief, sorrow and longing whenever she thought of Steve - was afraid, terrified that this moment of joy in finding him again was going to be cut short, and leave her with nothing but echoing silence of his absence once more. She wanted to cling on to him as tightly as she could, to hold him to her so she didn’t have to face the pain of losing him again.

Another, regrettably more sensible part of her, recognised that what he was saying was true. The four years she had spent being overlooked at the SSR had left their mark as surely as the war had, and now she was reinventing herself again as the Director of SHIELD. She felt very far from the young agent that had worked on Project Rebirth.

And Steve . . . right now she could only guess at the sort of things Steve had lived through, the reasons for the weariness that lurked at the back of his eyes, the sadness that seemed etched into his face, mingling with his joy when he had asked her if he could finally claim his dance.

“So what are you suggesting?” she asked, forcing a calmness she didn’t entirely feel.

But to her surprise - and a little to her relief - Steve smiled.

“I’m suggesting that we date. Like we would have - should have - if things had gone the way we planned. Get to know each other as we are now. And if after we’ve dated for a while, we’re both sure this is still something we want . . . well, then we can talk about what’s next.”

Peggy almost wanted to laugh. “Are you telling me you travelled back nearly a century in time just to ask me on a date?”

His smile widened to a grin. “To start with, anyway.”

If she had still harboured any doubts about his identity, this would certainly have left her with none - all these years, and he still had such a flair for the dramatic.

What she wanted to tell him was that he was being ridiculous, and she didn’t need time to decide. That four years hadn’t been enough to dull the grief of his loss, that her few forays into romance had never filled the space he had left behind, that she loved him as much as she had always done and whatever they had both been through since could never be enough to change that.

What she did was to lift her chin and say, “Very well. When do you want to have our first date?”

“Are you busy just now?”

____________

Steve wasn’t as familiar with New Jersey as he was with Brooklyn - he had hadn’t really ventured much outside of New York before enlisting and the world he had come to know in the twenty-first century was very different from the one he had returned to - but he had taken some time to reorient and prepare himself before he went to see Peggy. As much as he wanted to run straight to her, he had been hesitant, even afraid; a photograph on her desk twenty years from now gave him hope that she had never stopped loving him just as he had never stopped loving her - but was it really enough to justify doing this? Leaving everything he had built in the future (or tried to build, anyway, although he had never truly felt as if he belonged there) behind? Turning up on Peggy’s doorstep and possibly upending her life?

They were the same questions he had turned over and over before using the Pym Particles but what it always came back to was this: could he live with it if he didn’t try? And the answer was no, he couldn’t.

Which was in the end why he was here. He had made his decision when he entered the date. Why else come to this particular point in time? This year, when he knew Peggy was starting to found SHIELD and had moved to near Camp Lehigh. When he knew, crucially, from his conversations with her in the hospital that she was single, and had been for a good few months after a brief relationship with a co-worker in the SSR.

Still, his decision did not guarantee hers, and the worry of upending her life was not something he took lightly. He knew she would be overwhelmed when she saw him - he had already seen it, every time he visited the hospital and her memory had faded again so that she had forgotten he was alive - and it felt . . . unfair, somehow, to appear out of nowhere in her life after four years of her mourning him, and expect her to know without a doubt whether she wanted to spend her entire life with him. If he hadn’t gone into the ice in ‘forty-five they would have had time to figure things out, to go dancing or to the movies, to talk over dinner and build a life where their every waking moment wasn’t dedicated to a fight.

Realising that was when it hit him: he did have the time now, and why not make the most of it? They could get to know each other again, build something new, and Steve could be sure that this really was the right decision for both of them and not just for him.

Actually planning a date was a surprisingly new experience. In his teenage years and early twenties, any dates he had had were all friends or sisters of girls Bucky was seeing and Steve had just been tagging along when their single dates turned into doubles at the last minute.. In the last few years, Natasha had occasionally set him up on blind dates (she had felt very strongly that he needed to get a life, and he hoped she would approve of his attempt to do so now), usually at the last minute and without his prior knowledge, and with her having made all of the arrangements herself.

It wasn’t as if he were clueless, but somehow he felt like a nervous sixteen year old when Peggy, who had asked him to wait while she changed, came down the stairs in a light, floral-patterned dress, her hair freshly brushed and her scarlet lipstick perfectly reapplied. God, she was beautiful. He had always known it, but seeing her again it suddenly struck him anew and he would swear his heart actually skipped a beat.

“You look lovely,” he said, voice slightly husky.

A blush reddened her cheeks. “Thank you. So where are you taking me?”

“I thought we could go for a drive, maybe find somewhere to get some ice cream and take a walk.”

“Sounds lovely,” Peggy replied, pulling her coat on and following Steve out to where the car he had rented was parked along the curb. “And like you’ve put some thought into it.”

He chucked, holding the door open for her. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

When thinking about places they could get to in an afternoon’s drive, his main concern was that it was far enough away from Camp Lehigh that they were unlikely to be recognised. As proud as he would have been in other circumstances to shout from the rooftops that Peggy Carter had agreed to go out with him, he knew that, realistically, it would only complicate things for any of the people she worked with to spot them out together.

Of course, it didn’t take Peggy long to work that out.

“So we’re heading to Philadelphia, are we?” she commented, glancing at the road signs.

“I thought it might be nice to walk along the river.”

“And less likely that anyone we know will be there? Or run into us, at least.” When he flushed, she just laughed. “I’m not offended, Steve - it’s not like I think you’re ashamed to be seen with me. If it were anyone else, I might be, but I know you. And I know you being back here must be . . . complicated for you.”

Glancing across, he gave a wry, only slightly sheepish smile before turning his eyes back to the road. “‘Complicated’ is an understatement. I’m still figuring out some of the details.”

“Such as?”

He shrugged. “Whether it’s better to officially be back, or to use a pseudonym and fly under the radar. If I’m myself I can claim a military pension and I don’t have to worry about people figuring out who I am . . . but honestly, I don’t want to go back to being Captain America, and I’m not sure Steve Rogers will ever be allowed to live a normal life. I’ve been going by Roger Grant for the apartment I’m renting.”

As much as he missed the convenience of the internet for a lot of things, coming back to a time before everything was computerised and constantly monitored and verified electronically had made keeping a low profile while he decided how to handle things much easier.

“I don’t really know what to advise you, my darling - I know for a fact there are people who would love to use you to revive Project Rebirth,” Peggy said regretfully, and Steve wondered if she was aware of how easily the endearment had slipped from her lips. Hearing it from her again made something glow, soft and warm, inside his chest. He had missed her calling him that. “But trying to live as someone else for the rest of your life won’t be easy. Who else knows you’re back?”

“Right now? No one. I figured I’d reach out to a few people soon, people I trust - the Howlies, Howard Stark, maybe Colonel Phillips. But I haven’t yet.”

“Well, I’m flattered to be the first person to know.”

Steve glanced at her again, and took one hand off the wheel to reach over and take one of hers so he could bring it up to his lips and drop a gentle kiss against the backs of her fingers.

“Of course you were the first,” he said in a low voice. “There was never any question about that. You’re by far the most important.”

“I see someone’s learned a thing or two about talking to women,” Peggy said with a laugh, but there was an aching tenderness in her eyes as she watched him and when Steve finally had to return his hand to the wheel she let hers fall down to rest on his knee and kept it there the rest of the way to Philadelphia.

___________

“How long has it been for you exactly? In terms of years you’ve actually lived through?”

After getting to Philadelphia they had driven around for a while before settling on taking a walk through Fairmount Park, and had been lucky enough to find an ice cream truck parked just down the street from the entrance. Steve had bought them both a cone - chocolate for Peggy, strawberry for himself - and hand in hand they strolled through the autumn sunshine, enjoying the sweets and relishing the fact that they were here, and together. It was a perfect October day, the sky bright and clear, the park filled with trees that had all turned red and gold and seemed almost to glow in the afternoon light.

Now that her ice cream was mostly finished, however, curiosity had begun to scratch at the back of Peggy’s mind. There was so much she wanted to know still - how Steve was here, what had happened to him, why he had only just come back now - and while she knew (or rather hoped) it would take a lifetime to unspool all of the details, there were some things she wanted to know to help her understand what it was he had been through.

“Hm, about twelve years?” Steve said after a moment, finishing off the last of his ice-cream cone and absently licking some stray drips from his hand. Peggy felt herself warming as she watched, rather regretting that they were in a public park. “I woke up in 2011, and I travelled back here from 2023.”

“Twelve years.” Pushing the very inappropriate images she was envisioning to the back of her mind, Peggy focused her attention back on his face. Twelve years was a long time - three times as many years as she had lived through since he was lost. She tried to imagine living with the grief of his absence for another decade and shuddered. “So you’re . . . thirty-eight now? Or thirty-nine?”

He had crashed the Valkyrie a few months before his twenty-seventh birthday. Peggy remembered that 4th July; the war had been over in Europe, and, though there were still plenty fighting in East Asia, many troops were finally home. There had been a fantastic array of fireworks and parties to celebrate Independence Day, but Peggy hadn’t been able to bring herself to take any joy in them. She had sat home alone, looking at Steve’s picture and wishing he were there with her.

“Well, I guess technically I’m one hundred and five. But if you don’t count the years I was frozen then thirty-nine, I think.”

Peggy laughed. “Let’s go with thirty-nine. If it’s the former then either you’re practically robbing the cradle or it makes me something I’d rather not think about.”

It was still strange to think about, admittedly. The Steve she had lost had only been three years older than her, but now there was a whole decade between them. Although -

“You don’t look twelve years older,” she mused. There were a few lines around his eyes and mouth, and above all there was that look of tiredness that suggested he had lived through a lot, but in general terms he didn’t appear to be any more than late twenties or early thirties.

“An effect of the serum. I do age, just . . . a bit slower.”

“Is the serum how you survived? After the Valkryie?” Her voice caught a bit on the last word. She rarely talked about that day, about Steve, with anyone, and even now, though he was standing in front of her, alive and whole, she could feel the grief starting to rise up inside her, tears prickling hot and uncomfortable at the back of her eyes.

Not wanting him to see how close she was to crying she turned her head to look at the path as they walked, and tried to concentrate on the warm, solid feeling of his hand in hers.

“Yeah. They said it was because of the increased metabolism and the boost it gave my immune system, that the ice just put me in a kind of suspended animation.”

Her lip trembled.

“Do you - do you remember any of it?”

“No. I don’t even remember the crash. I remember seeing the water rushing up toward me . . . then nothing after that until I woke up.”

Peggy closed her eyes, trying very hard not to think about the fact that another version of him was out there right now, buried in the ice and the dark, all alone and abandoned by his friends.

“I should have looked harder,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “I should have insisted - we should have kept going until we found you. I’m so sorry, my darling, I let you down –”

“What? No, no, Peg. no.” With her eyes still closed she didn’t realise that Steve had stopped and moved round in front of her until she felt his hands come up to cradle her face. His palms were warm, slightly calloused, his thumbs brushed tenderly across her cheeks. Blinking her eyes open, she found herself staring directly into his blue ones, only scant inches of air between them. “You have never let me down. Not once. You - you’re my rock, Peggy. You’ve kept me going through so much, even in the future. I’d think about what you would say, what you would tell me to do and it gave me the courage I needed. It’s okay. It’s really okay.”

The tears were gathering along her eyelashes, she could feel they were about to fall - but then Steve leaned in and with such gentleness she caught her breath he kissed them away, his lips brushing softly over her eyelids like the lightest touch of a snowflake in winter. Almost instinctively she brought her own hands up to rest on his chest, her heart seeming to expand in her breast with more love than she knew what to do with.

“Don’t cry,” Steve was still murmuring. “I would never have chosen to leave you if I didn’t have to but . . . it’s okay. I ended up where I needed to be, until I could come back to you. And I did come back. I’m here. It’s okay, Peggy. You don’t have to be sorry for anything.”

“I just hate the thought of you out there, all alone.”

“I didn’t feel a thing, I promise you. It was like being asleep.”

He held her gaze as he spoke, each word quiet but deliberate, so she could see that he meant it and wasn’t just trying to spare her feelings - he really did believe that it was alright. That he had made his peace with what had happened.

Slowly she nodded, something that had been twisted so tightly inside her since the day she lost him finally beginning to loosen and ease.

They stayed that way, watching each other for several more long heartbeats, until Peggy finally smiled and said, “I thought you said you came back because this time is where you belong.”

Amusement glinted in Steve’s eyes. “I did. And it is. I belong wherever you are.”

And then, teasingly, he leaned slightly forward, his lips just hovering over hers . . . before stepping back and taking her hand again. Peggy watched him, wordless with surprise, the autumn breeze suddenly feeling much colder without his warmth blocking it out.

“Come on. It’s getting late. What do you say we get something more substantial to eat before I take you home?”

Oh, she was in trouble. Steve Rogers, it seemed, had learned more than just how to talk to women.

_________

It was fully dark by the time they pulled back up outside Peggy’s house, the moon riding high in the sky behind a wispy veil of cloud and the street lights casting a warm yellow glow over the road.

Steve could hardly believe that it was only a few hours ago that he had been working up the courage to knock on her door. A pang of regret rippled through him at the thought that the day was already over; he wondered absently if there would ever be a day when he did not feel desperate to hoard every second with Peggy that she would grant him. Knowing the hollow grief of a world without her, he suspected not . . . and yet he hoped there would be. He hoped that this was just the first day of many they would spend today, and that eventually he felt certain that they would have all the time they wanted.

It seemed that Peggy was as reluctant to say goodbye as he was. When he turned the engine off she didn’t reach for the car door but leaned back in her seat, her dark eyes moving intently over his face.

“Hey,” Steve said softly.

“Hi,” Peggy replied, her lips curling into a gentle smile.

“What are you thinking?”

A faint furrow appeared in her brow. “Just . . . that I’m worried I’ll wake up tomorrow and find this was all a dream.”

The words were quiet, and Steve felt something inside him tighten in response; he couldn’t help fearing the same thing, having dreamed about her so many times in the last year. As much to reassure himself as her, he reached over and took her hand in his, running his thumb gently back and forth over hers.

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Her fingers squeezed his. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dreamed about you.”

“No?”

She shook her head, causing one dark curl to fall loose over her forehead. “No. I used to dream about you a lot, in the first months after . . . We never talked, but you were just there. Holding my hand, or smiling, sitting with me. I’m not particularly religious these days, but sometimes I would think maybe it was your way of telling me you were alright, wherever you were.” She gave a wry chuckle. “Clearly that wasn’t the case.”

“I don’t know. I dreamed about you, too. About taking you for a dance, or just being able to come home to you. Maybe some part of us was finding each other.”

Peggy narrowed her eyes slightly, looking at him like she wasn’t quite sure if he was serious or not. “Do you really believe that? It’s a lovely thought, but it just seems . . . so impossible.”

Steve shrugged. “Improbable, maybe. But I’ve met Norse gods and actual sorcerers. Not a lot seems far-fetched to me any more.”

There was a silence, and Steve only realised there were still a lot of details he had to tell Peggy about his life in future when her eyebrows lifted almost to her hairline.

“Norse gods and sorcerers?”

“It’s a really long story. I’ll tell you on our next date.”

She smiled. “There’s going to be a next date, then?”

“Isn’t there?” he countered, grinning.

“That depends on how this one ends. A gentleman would walk me to my door, you know.”

Laughing, Steve obediently got out of the car and came round the other side to hold Peggy’s door open for her. She slipped her arm through his as they walked the few feet up to her porch, leaning into him with a tenderness that made him want to press her close to him and never let go.

They came to a halt on the steps, Peggy turning to face him; standing one step above him, their heights were nearly equal and he didn’t have to look down to meet her gaze, wide and dark and hopeful.

“I suppose this is goodnight, then.”

“I guess so.” Bringing one hand up, he tucked the curl that had fallen loose in the car behind her ear. “Would it be alright if I gave you a goodnight kiss?”

Peggy looked amused. “Darling, I’d be rather put out if you didn’t.”

“Well, far it be from me to disappoint a lady.”

He leaned forward, and as he did so trailed his hand down past her ear and along her jaw, until he could curl his fingers around the back of her neck and pull her in to meet him, pressing his lips to hers.

Hand to heart, his intentions were for it to be entirely soft and chaste, a sweet goodnight kiss, much like the one they had shared earlier today while they danced. But then Peggy let out a little sigh as their mouths met, her arms coming up to lace around his neck and her fingers carding through his hair, and Steve couldn’t help himself.

His free hand came up to Peggy’s waist, pulling her flush against him so that he could feel every soft line of her body, and he tilted his head, deeping the angle of the kiss. Peggy responded eagerly, her mouth falling open beneath his, and her teeth even nipping at his bottom lip, encouraging him on.

Heat flooded through him, the sound of his own thundering heartbeat filling his ears and the scene of Peggy’s perfume filling his nose and making his head swim. God, he had forgotten what it was like to kiss her. To really kiss her. The world around them had faded until there was only Peggy; the taste of her tongue, the sound of both their breathing becoming more and more ragged, and the feel of her pressed against him, each stroke of her mouth making him want to lose himself in her entirely.

Every part of him was alive and crackling with energy, desire pulsing through him with a fierceness that took him by surprise. He wanted to give into it, to let it take him and Peggy wherever it would . . .

. . . but some small, rational part of his mind held on, reminding him why he was trying to take things slowly.

With an effort that took all of his (not inconsiderable) willpower, he broke the kiss and pulled back enough to look at her - although he did not, yet, let her go entirely - and just that look was nearly enough to make him give in and start kissing her again. She was breathing heavily, her face flushed, pupils blown wide, and her always-perfect lipstick smeared at the corners.

“That was quite a kiss. But it doesn’t have to be goodnight, you know.” Peggy looked up at him, and Steve could feel his entire body rebelling against what his brain had decided. “You could stay, if you want.”

“No,” he said quickly, before his reasoning was drowned out by just how much he wanted her - but perhaps it was too quickly, as her eyes widened and hurt flashed across her face. “No, I didn’t mean - I do want to, of course I want to, it’s not that - it’s just, what I mean -”

It was so hard to think when he could still feel the warmth of her mouth on his. But the hurt had cleared from her face and, for some reason, she looked like she was trying not to laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad to see you’ve not changed that much.”

He looked at her in confusion for a moment before he remembered their first conversations at Camp Lehigh, when he would stumble over his own words and struggle to get a complete sentence out. No one had ever managed to fluster him the way Peggy did, even then.

Relaxing a little, he shook his head and continued, “What I mean is, staying isn’t exactly taking things slow.”

Peggy pursed her lips, but to his relief - he wasn’t sure he had the willpower to keep arguing if she disagreed - after a moment she simply sighed and said, “No, I suppose it’s not.”

“Believe me, I hate saying it.” Leaning forward, he grazed the side of her nose with his. “But I don’t want to rush this and get it wrong. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better.”

Satisfied that he had managed to pull a smile out of her, Steve brushed one last kiss over her lips - and did manage to keep this one soft and chaste - and then stepped back. The cold night air swept in as they parted and he instead regretted letting her out of his arms, even as he knew it was the right decision.

“Would it be rushing things for our second date to be tomorrow?” Peggy asked. “Or are you going to make me wait a whole week?”

“Tomorrow’s good.” Perhaps it was rushing things a bit, but Peggy would be back at work come Monday and he didn’t want to wait until the next weekend any more than she did. “Tomorrow afternoon? We could go to the movies.”

“I can’t wait.”

Reluctantly, he turned and started back down the steps towards his car, and at the end of the path he gave her one last, lingering look over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Peggy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She was still watching him from the porch and raised a hand in farewell. “Goodnight, my darling.”

He was already counting the minutes until tomorrow as he drove away.

#steggy #steggy secret santa #steve rogers #peggy carter #margarethcarter #I think this'll probably end up 10-15K total but we'll see #it's already much more than I expected it to be haha #I hope you enjoy it!#my fic #otp: the right partner

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embie-the-buttercup · 2 years

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Random childhood crushes I had

Bernard from The Santa Clause

I think this one is pretty much self explanatory, we all had a crush on him.

Ian from What a Girl Wants

Still a pretty standard and normal crush. That hair was so cool when I was like 7.

Dapne from Sccoby-Doo

Who am I kidding, I still have a crush on Sarah Michelle Gellar, she's so pretty. Little me had confusing fellings about her in those short dresses.

Velma's friend from Scooby-Doo

This man doesn't even have a name but I was so gone for him. The hair, the eyes, the goatee, the shirt... I still love him. Somebody give a name to my boy. (And I'm still mad that they didn't let him have a kiss with Velma. I know she was supposed to be gay, but if you didn't make her gay, and made her have a crush on Seth Green in the second movie, she at least could've had this beauty of a man...)

Both Robin and Maria from The Secret of Moonacre

Such an underrated movie. I loved Maria, she was so sweet and pretty and my little heart could barely handle the scene where she wakes up with curly hair (I couldn't find a picture.) And let's be honest, everyone who watched this movie had a crush on Robin with his stupid little bowler hat and smudged eyeliner. (Oh so that's where my obsession with men in eyeliner came from...)

Simon from Nanny McPhee

I still have a crush on Thomas Brodie-Sangster. He was my first ever celebrity crush. There used to be a giant poster of Nanny McPhee in the hallway of my elementary school and I used to go to that part of the school just to look at him. I had no other business in that part, I took trips to see him. I still would, tbh.

Audrey from Atlantis: The Lost Empire

She's cool, she's badass, she's pretty, she's witty. I was whipped the moment she came on screen. I loved that she was a strong female character surrounded by men and she was treated as equal. Same goes for Helga (but she was evil so little me drew the line there) and Kida too (I don't know why but I preferred Audrey over her. Maybe because the scene where she's taken by the crystal freaked me out a kid.).

Vinny from Atlantis: The Lost Empire

He's the funniest of them all. There's nothing else neccessary for me to develop a crush.

Cinderella from Cinderell II: Dreams Come True

Let's be clear, Cinderella from the second movie. Not the original, not third with the time travelling AU. This Cinderella was sweet but independent, confident and determined. And she had a great wardrobe. I loved her so much.

Linda from Rio

Specifically this scene. The part where she drives the motorcycle also did things to me at 13 but I was done for when she put on this costume.

Fly from Help! I'm a Fish

Now, we're getting into weird territory. For those of you who haven't seen this movie, for most of the runtime he's a fish. And yet, I had such a big crush on him. He was a hot fish, okay?

Mr Tumnus from The Cronicles of Narnia

I might out myself as a furry now, but I don't even find James McAvoy that attractive without the faun make up. MAybe I had a crush on him because of his personality. Let's just say it was that.

Nico from Rio

I know, I know, he's a bird. But have you seen the part at the party when he says "Party in Ipanema, baby!"? That's hot, okay? I might or might not have written self insert fanfiction about him and myself (as bird of course)...

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oonajaeadira · 9 months

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State of the WIP Address

Nothing like a deadline to get a thing done, amirite? I'm just amazed that I got my Secret Santa fic done a whole 24+ hours ahead of posting time. I truly thought I'd be up all night sweating it. I guess all I needed was the SO to be gone for the evening so I could make it happen.

Think I might start cracking the whip on modern dom!Pero tonight too....

Tasty teasers under the cut.

STATE OF THE WIPS

I have one million projects happening, but these are the pieces I’m actively thinking about and working on at the moment.

SECRET SANTA Where it’s at: It's finished!!! I'mma post it tomorrow with all the other Secret Santas. I really hope my giftee likes it. I really hope anyone likes it. If not, I get it. It is a bit of a downer. Tasty teaser:

He only sat long enough to watch the churchgoers file out of mass, many of them with people they loved, humming, happy, cheeks glowing in that way when one steps into a fresh cold after being an hour or two in the warmth. And once the square was empty again, he stood, gave only a fleeting look to the river, and then walked resolutely down Yaëlle’s street. A little house with a red roof and a candle in the window. He stayed for supper and came back many nights after. And then one night he never left.

TROPE FIC: MODERN DOM!PERO Where it’s at: Playing the wip game this week and answering Leslie's ask about this really zinged me into full gear and I have to admit that I had to tear myself away from it to work on my Secret Santa piece. But. The feedback and comments actually helped a lot and I need to rework a couple of sections before I dive back in, but I think I'm ready to rock on it, so expect this one soon. Tasty teaser:

“Did I…Did I do something wrong?” You don’t know where it comes from, this sudden neediness for him to clarify what just happened. When he turns you notice first the way he looks you over, matter-of-factly. “No, of course not.” And then you notice something else…that he’s physically aroused. He doesn’t move to hide it, nor does he seem to let it otherwise affect him. “This is not the place. I won’t take advantage of you here. Another place and another time. When I can worship you properly.”

TROPE FIC: ALPHA!JAVI Where it’s at: Again, the wip game did wonders on my motivation on this! And knowing that Birdie is out there enthusiastic about it makes me want to get it going again. I'm focused on Pero at the moment, but I'll be back at this one soon enough. I have one little thing I really need to figure out, but other than that, I'm confident in bringing this one around. My favorite scene so far is reader's first heat, and my second favorite is the moment where everything goes terribly wrong. So get ready for more sweetness and angst I guess. Tasty teaser:

You’d sat smiling out of the car window on your way to another weekend at the Gutierrez compound, knowing full well that you’d return with a mark on your throat. You’d need to remind Javi to bite hard, to make it last. He was gentle enough that it might not take at first.

TROPE FIC: SEX POLLEN!OBERYN Where it’s at: I think I stepped away from this one too long. It's okay. The outline is solid. I just have to get Pero and Javi taken care of and then I can start working on this one again. Tasty teaser:

“Ellaria? Thank you. This is very kind.” Slowing in the courtyard and wearing the sunshine like a shimmering cloak, she returns to you once more. “It is you who are the kind one here, Pet.” “Me?” Her nod is slow, suddenly vulnerable. “You called me Lady. There are not many from outside these walls who would do that when they know who I am.” “But…you are very much a Lady.” She smiles, allowing this, turning to go. “And you are a guest. Even so, the Princes would want you taken care of. I am merely at their service. And yours.”

GOOD. THINGS. TAKE. TIME. Where it’s at: The asks are all sorted, and Shell is coming up next.... Tasty Teaser: I don't have anything written yet, but one of the asks I'm answering in the next installment is: "Does Preciosa ever get jealous thinking about Pats' other clients?"

LEAVE OFF YOUR WANDERING: WINTER Where it’s at: I've been daydreaming about it, so that's a good sign. I did slap down some dialog that came to me the other day. Ellie's gonna get mad. No teasers for you. Get ready for some darkness.

#state of the wip address

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bluesylveon2 · 9 months

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I Dreamed of You (TWST Secret Santa 2023)

This goes out to @rosietrace from your Secret Santa! I hope you like your gift! I combined some elements from your requests and used your OC, Victoria. I apologize if she is ooc btw. I looked at her profile and your writing to understand her. Also, thank you to @twstedsecretsanta for hosting this event :) Happy Holidays!!

Summary: Victoria helps Yuu with some errands only to find herself dreaming of Malleus Draconia

Note: ft. Victoria Shard (@rosietrace's OC), hint of Victoria x Malleus, fluff, banter, and humor

Warning: not beta read and possible ooc characters

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist: here

"Thank you for helping me out last minute, Victoria," Yuu said apologetically as the girls entered Ramshackle. "I usually ask Ace and Deuce to help me clean out the rooms, but they bailed out on me."

Victoria chuckled and elegantly waved her hand in the air. "Nonsense, Yuu. I am happy to lend you a hand." She followed Yuu into an abandoned room hidden deep in the dorm. The entire dorm was currently undergoing a makeover after Charons barged in. Luckily for Yuu, Vil had allowed her to return to the dorm to grab some last-minute things before her vacation at Pomefiore began.

Victoria let out a whistle as Yuu entered the room. "Wow, Vil was not wrong. I thought he was lying when he complained about how dusty this place was."

Yuu grinned, having been used to hearing similar remarks from others. "I blame it on Crowley’s minimum wage salary, but Grim and I survived somehow. You should have seen how Vil was when he was here. If he was not rehearsing, he was coming up with a list of how to renovate this place."

"Pomefiore was quiet with him gone. It was nice to taste what it was like being a housewarden during it," Victoria muttered the last part.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, Yuu." Victoria smiled softly and approached a nearby box. "I wonder what is in here."

"Be careful. There might be some broken artifacts in there."

Victoria chuckled. "I know, Yuu. That is the last thing you need to worry about for me." Her fingers grazed something cool and hard. Victoria, interested in the item, carefully picked it up to examine. She blew out some of the dust to reveal the artifact. It was a long necklace with an oval-shaped gemstone at the pendant. The gem was held in silver with a rose engraved in it. Victoria was unsure about the gem's color as it was dust-covered.

"Whatcha got there?" Yuu asked, stepping towards Victoria. Her eyes examined the pendant. "I have never seen before. It does not look like I've seen in my history book either."

"It's probably something from the previous inhabitant." Victoria shrugged. "You could probably sell it for some money if we can see what this gem is." She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and cleaned the necklace. A bright light appeared the moment Victoria rubbed the cloth against the stone.

"What's going on?" Yuu panicked, startled as she covered her eyes with her arm.

"I don't know!" Victoria exclaimed. She dropped both her handkerchief and the necklace in the chaos. Just as the necklace hit the ground, a cloud of smoke appeared and enveloped Victoria's body. She felt her eyes grow heavy, and she began to lose control of her body. A piercing sound filled her ears and overpowered Yuu's concerned yelling. Victoria began to feel lightheaded as her vision became blurry.

Before she knew it, everything became black.

---

Victoria was running through the forest.

It was a complete 180 from where she was a minute ago back in Ramshackle. Her purple and black gown flowed around her as she automatically navigated her way around. It felt familiar, yet Victoria had never been there before.

The forest was dark but had a strong aura of magic within it. Victoria could see some steep cliffs and mountains in the distance. Despite that, the moonlight warm against Victoria's skin. The girl felt a smile form on her face. Her body felt free even though she could not stop to observe the scenery.

A set of firefly-like lights appeared, causing Victoria to stop moving in the middle of a field.

"Took you long enough," Victoria found herself automatically saying. Victoria’s eyes widened in shock. It was like she was trapped in her own body.

The lights formed into a familiar figure, one she was not too pleased to see. "I had to give you a head start before I searched for you." Malleus grinned, and he pulled Victoria into his arms.

WHAT? Victoria asked internally, but the close proximity gave her a better look at Malleus. Gone were the Diasomnia dorm uniforms, but a black and purple outfit with a cape and silver pieces of armor on it. A silver crown with a green gem in the center was on his head. His face looked more mature than what she was used to. Yet, his eyes looked the same, except he stared at her like she was the brightest star in the sky.

"You don't have to give yourself a handicap. We could've arrived together."

"Really?" Malleus chuckled. He gazed into Victoria's eyes and pushed some of her dishevaled purple hair behind her ear. "I prefer me chasing you. It reminds me of our school days, where I would chase you across campus to get your attention."

Malleus? The prince of Briar Valley, chasing after her? Victoria thought. That annoying prince would consider that the last thing he would ever do.

"This again? I've already lived and heard this story many times. It's your fault that the kids keep asking about it before they sleep."

"The kids like it because it helps them sleep peacefully at night," Malleus smirked. "It also gives me time to dedicate my nights to having you sc-" Victoria covered Malleus' mouth with her hand.

"Don't think about finishing that sentence, Draconia."

Malleus pressed his lips against Victoria's palm and gently pulled it away to speak.

"I was going to say, screaming happily about the gargoyles. What was that phrase Lilia mentioned? ‘Get your mind out of the gutter.’ You should do that, my love." He smiled innocently. Victoria frowned. She made a mental note to punch Lilia the next time she saw him. Malleus laughed at her reaction. "Now, now, let's focus on our alone time. We cannot let any second go to waste."

Victoria rolled her eyes, and her frown disappeared slightly. What was she even doing here in the first place? "I know, Malleus. I don't want to come home to find Lilia throwing the kids off a tall tower to teach them how to fly."

KIDS?! Victoria yelled internally. Sure, her body is saying these words automatically, but she did not have kids, and with Malleus, of all people!

"He won't. Although Lilia did the same to me when I was younger…"

Victoria placed her hand on Malleus' mouth again. "You better not finish that sentence for my state of mind." She felt Malleus smile as he gently pulled her hand away again.

"I won't. Instead, I will do this." Malleus snapped his fingers, and fireflies filled the field. The girl had to admit, but watching the fireflies light up the flowers around them felt magical. It almost looked like the stars had come down from the sky and around her. Victoria kneeled in the grass to look at the light and noticed Malleus looking at her fondly.

"Victoria," Malleus' voice caused Victoria to stand up. He held a hand out to her. "Would you like to dance with me?"

"Yes," Victoria said, and she let herself get swept away in a slow dance by Malleus. The fireflies made way for them with each step or twirl they took. Victoria wanted to look away, but the soft glow illuminated Malleus' eyes like emeralds. The girl felt something in her chest she never felt before.

I'm probably coming down with something. Victoria told herself. It's most likely from staring at Malleus longer than she needed to.

Malleus hummed a tune for the two as they continued their dancing. Victoria had to admit that Malleus was a great dancer. She had heard stories about how good we were from students who attended the Noble Bell College event.

She did not plan on admitting it out loud to him, though.

Malleus stopped moving when the song ended. He picked up Victoria's left hand and placed a soft kiss near her ring.

"Happy anniversary, my love."

To this day, Victoria has no idea what happened. Still, she only remembers Malleus's smile after he uttered those words and as the world faded away again.

There was chatter all around her, much more than there was before. Victoria could hear the worried tone in Yuu's voice and in the new person. Her head hurt too much to concentrate on the speaker.

"Victoria?" a deep voice asked. Victoria felt something warm against her forehead.

"I think I saw some movement! She must be waking up." Was that Yuu? That's right, Yuu was right by her before she got knocked out. The warmth went away.

"Indeed, Child of Man. She is coming through." Victoria knew that voice from anywhere. Malleus Draconia. What was he doing there?

Victoria felt her head hurting like Tartarus. She groaned as she placed her hand on her forehead.

"Where am I?" Victoria asked, opening her eyes. There was not only one face but two, and they both had concerned expressions.

"You had fainted whenever we were cleaning out the storage room. You didn't wake up, so I called Tsunotaro for help," Yuu explained. Victoria looked at her with a confused expression.

"You called Malleus? Why?"

Malleus spoke up this time. "The Child of Man said it looked like you were having a nightmare. I had used my magic to make it more pleasurable until you woke up."

Victoria frowned. Her view of pleasurable was not with a future with Malleus of all people.

Yuu, noticing Victoria's frown, cleared her throat. "I notified Vil of your whereabouts, and he said you are free to stay here or go back to Pomefiore. I can prepare a guest room for you if you choose to stay here."

Victoria smiled at Yuu's offer and shook her head. "I think I will return to my room if that is alright with you."

"That's alright with me!" Yuu grinned as she turned to Malleus. "Malleus, can you walk Victoria back to Pomefiore?"

"Sure." "What?"

Victoria's usually poised face became flabbergasted as she turned to Malleus and then back at Yuu. "I could walk there by myself."

"I agree, but I don't want you to faint again. I would walk with you, but I must feed Grim his tuna. Luckily, Malleus is here, so I don't have to call Rook to come get you."

Victoria would prefer if Rook came by instead of Malleus, but the puppy dog eyes Yuu was making made it hard for Victoria to express her true thoughts. "Fine, I'll let Malleus bring me."

Yuu's grin grew wide. "Yay!" She jumped up and pulled Victoria to stand. "Make sure to text me once you make it back." Yuu pushed the girl towards Malleus, who caught her quickly.

The walk back to Pomefiore was quiet and awkward. Luckily for Victoria, Malleus did not speak except for looking deep in thought and the obligatory "goodnight" once they reached her dorm. The halls were quiet as Victoria lay in her bed, her mind filled with the events from her dream.

That's all it was: a dream. That does not mean it would come true.

Right?

Lilia entered the Diasomnia lounge with the intent of going into the kitchen. He was somewhat peckish and thought whipping up a late-night snack would help. No one should be up this late at night. The bat fae did not expect to see one of his sons sitting on the dorm's sofas looking deep in thought.

"Malleus? Why are you still awake? You have class in the morning." Lilia said like a father would if he found his child stealing cookies from the cookie jar.

Malleus looked at the clock on the wall, and his eyes widened. "It is? I did not realize how long I was sitting here."

Lilia raised an eyebrow and sat next to Malleus. "It seems like something is on your mind. You can let it out on me if you want to."

Malleus sighed and looked down at his lap before speaking. "Have you ever felt as if you were connected to someone? Like you were bonded to them?"

Now, it was time for Lilia to be the one in shock. "I can't say I have, but I read books about that phenomenon during my travels. There is a story similar to that where the Rose Princess met her prince in a dream."

"Interesting." Malleus hummed and turned to Lilia. "Earlier, I was in Ramshackle because the Child of Man said there was an emergency. Victoria from Pomefiore had fainted, and the Child of Man wanted me to use my magic to wake her up."

"Did your magic work?"

"I did not use any magic. I placed my hand on her forehead, and she woke up minutes later." Malleus confessed with a frown on his face. He looked away to think more about the cause, unaware of the smirk growing on Lilia's face.

"Oh, Malleus," Lilia sighed and threw an arm around his son. "It seems like you need to learn more about what is happening. Luckily, I kept a few copies of those stories I mentioned in my dorm."

Malleus eyes sparkled. "I see," He stood up and dragged Lilia towards the dorms. "Then we cannot waste a second until we find an answer to my questions."

Lilia let himself get dragged away. All thoughts of the late-night snack were gone. His mind was interested in learning what was happening between his son and a girl.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

#twst secret santa 2023 #twst x oc #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #victoria shard #malleus draconia

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knickynoo · 9 months

Note

Christmas-themed Ellex headcanons, please?

Ehehehe, Alex and Ellen!! Wooo!

Btw, these are headcanons for post-series where they reunite and end up married (because that's what I like to believe happened)

• In terms of decorating, Alex spends a lot of time grumbling and complaining about having to take everything out of storage/the attic or wherever and all the time it takes to put everything up. Ellen just smiles sympathetically and goes, "Yes, I know, Alex." Really, she knows he just has to get it out of his system. Once they actually take everything out, Alex enjoys the decorating just as much (or even more, perhaps) as she does.

• They do clash a bit in their decorating techniques, though. Whereas Ellen prefers an artistic "just feel it out" method, Alex has a system for where everything should go, down to the last ornament on the tree. "Ellen, there are already three red ornaments in close proximity on that side of the tree. Let me swap one out. It doesn't—no, it doesn't look right. Stop adding more red ornaments!"

• On winter evenings when it starts to flurry, they like going out for a quick walk. They get all bundled up, maybe get some hot cocoa in a thermos, and take a stroll hand in hand as they admire some of the nearby Christmas lights.

• Alex is very attentive to the moments Ellen mentions something she likes or admires something in a store. He may seem aloof in the moment, but he files it away and is sure to go out later to buy it for her. He does his Christmas shopping throughout the year in this way, squirreling away the gifts in a secret hiding place. When Christmas morning comes, Ellen is honestly surprised at some of the presents, as she sometimes forgets that she'd even mentioned a certain thing.

"Alex...I hardly even remember mentioning that I wanted this. How did you know?"

"We were out at the mall, remember? It was back in May, I think. You stopped and looked at it for nearly five seconds with that expression on your face that you get when you really like something. I went back the next day."

• Ellen tends to wait until closer to Christmas to start doing her shopping, but she gets it done pretty quickly. Alex is easy to shop for and easy to please. Sweater vests, ties, books on economics, orange juice, an emtpy cardboard box, etc. Any of those, and he's a happy camper.

• When they have children, they struggle to figure out how to handle The Santa Thing. I can see Ellen leaning toward not wanting to indulge in the whole charade and preferring to take an open and honest approach (while still keeping it fun, of course) while Alex wants to go all out in creating the Santa Experience for their kids. He just has such fond, beautiful memories of his many, many years believing (he was 22!) and wants to keep that same fun alive for his kids as long as possible. Ellen eventually gives in and lets him be in charge of that part of the holiday.

Thanks for the ask!

#asks #family ties #alex p keaton #apk #ellen reed

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choco-bloop · 2 years

Text

HC Girls Headcanons <3 (because honestly the five of them r a fun BroTP)

There has probably been at least one halloween event where they just showed up in Ghostbusters outfits and began playing the song all while trying not to burst into laughter from the sheer ridiculousness of it

They share like 5 braincells but 90% of the time 3 go to Stress, one goes to False and the last is shared between Cleo, Gem and Pearl

Can and will beat anyone's asses if asked, although how varies from PVP (False, Gem, Pearl), to Attempted PVP that ends in a lecture (Stress), or straight up sarcasm right in your face (Cleo)

After Pearl's secret Santa to Cleo they now just occasionally dress up as each other to prank everyone else, the main targets are Scar and Grian. Usually it's Gem, Pearl and Cleo going around causing the chaos. Stress just watches because it's funny and False doesn't want to because she's had more than enough of that with her twin

Speaking of twins, the girls know that False has a sibling but that's about all she'll tell them. Gem knows its E!False while Cleo only knows whoever the sibling is is on Empires

Stress has tried getting the other three into Vault hunters but the one time they did try it ended in them all hiding behind False when they found an elite. (Cleo had been sitting next a spawner the entire time watching it unfold because the mobs wouldn't attack her)

Girls nights weekly! AKA where they gossip about the others and share funny moments that happened. (Note: prior to the whole False rift stuff the two Falses alternated between who went each time and updated the other)

Stress is the one who makes the food for these Girls' nights and the deserts too. Pearl specifically only knows how to make soup and nothing else (even then her soup is not to be trusted). Cleo and False are banned from the kitchen (Cleo has absolutely no cooking skills and False would rather use a sword than a knife). Gem is only allowed to enter to do the garnishing, no cooking for her either

#headcanons #hermitcraft #falsesymmetry #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #zombiecleo #stressmonster101

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telli1206 · 2 years

Text

Promise Me

Surprise @callous-and-misunderstood! I’m your @descendantsgiftexchange Secret Santa 😊 I’m so sorry this is late, I was asked to step in to gift you a little late in the game. But I do hope this angst/fluff Isle Jaylos fic is good enough to make up for the lateness. You deserve the best! I hope you had a wonderful holiday!

AO3 Link

Looking back, Jay knows they made a mistake.

Planning to arrive at the docks before sunrise wasn’t a bad idea, per se. They had to try to be first to get their hands on Auradon’s after-Christmas spoils. There’s no better haul, especially when it comes to the heaps on heaps of food that are piled in it, all better quality than the usual, barely edible waste that’s dumped on the isle the rest of the year. This is all clearly party-level shit, with random herbs and plants lying all over it for garnish, along with the occasional gold and fancy dinner plate or serving tray. It was considered the feast of the year for any and every Isle-goer.

And Jay, Carlos, Evie, and Mal were all on track to arrive for the shipment early as hell. Half of the Isle was still sleeping, and they were going to have their pick of the delivery. That’s a win, for sure.

But maybe cutting through pirate territory wasn’t their best plan of action. Though it’s undoubtedly the fastest way to get to the docks, it’s always guarded. Uma doesn’t let even a second pass without someone from her crew keeping a lookout on every corner. Ignoring an easy route to opt for what they thought would be the fastest was the start of their downfall and ultimately the reason they’re being chased right now.

It didn’t take long for Jonas to spot them just outside an alley, and his shouts alerted most of the crew, including Gil, and of course, Harry, who never turns down a chance for a chase. Especially when it’s Mal’s group.

Harry looks crazed in the dulled orange haze of the early morning sunrise. He’s cackling like a wildman and swinging his sword every which way, forcing Gil and Jonas to dodge its blade as they try to keep chase next to him. And between Harry’s ruckus, Evie’s wails, and Carlos’ screams, the commotion they’re making is enough to wake up the rest of the Isle before they even reach the docks.

It’s not like this is new, though. Truthfully, this type of interaction is pretty much standard practice anytime they risk an encounter with the pirates. And it could have easily ended like all the others, with little to no bodily harm and leaving them plenty of time to collect when the shipment arrived. So, Jay really had no reason to worry. Yet.

It’s when Mal decides to cut across a frozen portion of the water, a move Jay’s sure she thought would be the best way to quickly shake the pirates off their tail, that it all goes terribly wrong.

They’re not paying attention to the strength of the ice. But Jay realizes that far too late to do anything about it. He feels the solid surface giving way under his feet as he runs, and when his heel breaks through for a moment he falters, stumbling himself closer to land as his feet scramble for purchase on ground that can hold him. When he finally steadies himself on a piece of rocky shore, his eyes are already frantically searching the ice.

He sees Evie immediately, less than a foot away from him. She’s already sprawled onto her stomach to spread out her weight, and Jay can easily grab her by the hand and slide her back in. She gives him a grateful, weak half-smile as her fingers grasp tightly to the exposed earth.

When Jay’s head shoots back up, he breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of Mal’s body arcing in the air, landing just a few feet ahead on frozen ground.

He’s about to smile as he makes a final scan with his eyes, until he finally catches sight of Carlos…and his heart drops.

It’s only a split second before Carlos disappears under the surface. Jay doesn’t even hear the ice break, but he’s gone and there’s a hole where he was standing. And Jay is already running.

His heart is thrumming so loud in his ears that he can’t make out the sounds around him. There’s a dull ringing that he can only assume is Evie screaming, but he only hears it for a moment before his body is disappearing in the shock-ice-cold of the frozen water beneath them. His body almost forgets how to move once it’s submerged in the frigid temperatures, but he forces himself to kick his way down, his arms pushing away debris and tiny ice chunks as he goes.

He knows Carlos sank like a stone. He’s never learned to swim. He’s never had to, like most of the kids that are trapped on an island with little to no access to the surrounding waters.

Jay’s grateful now that he decided to teach himself so he could gain better access to trinkets or cargo lost in the water. It was a bonus trick he thought he could use on occasion, to be able to grab extra bits for Jafar and the shop. It’s come in handy quite a few times, but never more so than in this moment.

He’s been under for a good minute now. His legs are starting to fail and his lungs feel like they could burst. He keeps his lips pressed as tightly as he can, flailing out his arms everywhere to feel for anything he could grab onto. The water is so murky he can barely see in front of his face.

He knows that finding Carlos might be a one-in-a-million shot, but there’s no way he’s giving up. He’d rather die down in the dirty depths of this disease-ridden water than even entertain the thought of never making Carlos smile again. Or hearing his laugh, which always starts off soft, but builds in heartiness the harder Jay works for it. Or looking into the deepest, darkest most soulful brown eyes he’s ever seen, that could take his breath away every time if he let them.

Maybe I should have let them, Jay thinks now, since his breath is almost gone anyway. Colors are swirling behind his eyelids, and he’s feeling faint. He knows this might be his last chance, so he gives his legs one last hard kick, stretching his arms out as far as they’ll go in front of him.

And he’s rewarded with a thick sleeve. He’d know that leather anywhere, with thick buckles at the wrist to keep them tight, and an extra loop inside to hold Carlos’ switchblade.

Jay almost shrieks with joy, but fights the urge to avoid swallowing in water before he can get Carlos to the surface. Once he’s sure he has a fully supported grip on his sleeve, Jay starts to pull them upward with all the strength he still has left.

It’s a slow trek, hindered additionally by the fact that Jay’s heart feels ready to give out. His body’s moving on instinct now, his one free hand digging through the chunky ice water while his legs kick at a steady pace. It seems like an eternity, but when his fingers break through to frigid air he exhales a deep sigh of relief, and tugs a now wriggling Carlos up to the surface.

The boy in his arms sputters and gasps immediately, and Jay is so elated he just wants to give him the most crushing hug, to feel his heart and breath alive and close to his chest.

But before he can do anything Carlos is ripped from his arms. His eyes follow his body as he starts to slide away on his stomach, Evie gripping him tightly by the wrists. Jay’s only focus is on them until he starts to feel a tug under his own arms. He’s too shocked to process what’s happening, and then he’s being dragged out of the hole in the ice. But he recognizes Mal’s grumbling tone right away.

“Fuck, you idiot! I wish you gave us a chance to help you. Thank evil you’re ok!”

She groans when she finally slumps them both back onto the shore, panting heavily. She slings Jay next to her, and he grunts when he rolls onto the dirt, his wet strings of hair tangling into the rocks and sand. He couldn’t care less though, he’s already pushing himself onto his hands and flicking hair out of his face, his eyes frantically searching the shore.

He spots Carlos just a few feet in front of him, sprawled across Evie’s lap. He can see his chest rising and falling heavily, sucking in deep breaths while Evie pushes the damp curls out of his face.

Jay exhales, his body physically relaxing at the sight of Carlos breathing. He barely hears Mal’s muttered, “You’re welcome!” before he starts to shuffle across the ice to them, still on his hands and knees.

“Jay!” Evie scolds, her eyes wide. “We need to get you both warm! What are you doing?!”

Jay ignores her, instead reaching for Carlos. It only takes him a few seconds to lift him out of her lap and into his arms, his neck and the backs of his knees cradled softly between Jay’s elbows.

His muscles protest a bit, and he groans at the resistance when he tries to straighten himself. The movement shocks Carlos to full consciousness, and he gasps and wraps his arms around Jay’s neck for support.

“J-Jay? What’s…what, are you d-doing?” Carlos head whips around, spotting Evie and then Mal, both motionless and gawking at them.

“Are…where…”

Before Carlos can finish his thought, Jay squeezes him tightly, pressing him as close to his body as he can, and suddenly breaks off into a full sprint. Carlos yelps, tightening his grip and gaping in surprise as the girls quickly disappear from his view.

“Jay! Put. Me. Down! I can walk!”

Jay just shakes his head and continues to run with Carlos tucked into him firmly.

“No, can do, ‘Los,” he tells him, turning the corner towards their hideout. “You need to be somewhere where we can warm you up. Don’t worry, Mal’ll figure it out and bring Evie with her. They’ll be fine.”

He glances down at Carlos for a brief moment, breaking into a smile when he sees brown eyes looking back at him.

“Just, relax. Ok? I’m gonna take care of you.”

-----

Carlos is groggy when he finally wakes up.

Slowly, he props himself up on his elbows, blinking at the soft, filmy light that’s filtering in through the window. Just next to it, Mal is sitting at the table, poking at something with a butter knife. And beside her, Evie is flopped across the same table, sleeping soundly. They both look…surprisingly dry. Wearing new, dry clothes and combing through their wet hair makes them look…clean, and fresh. As if their morning ordeal had never even happened.

And Carlos is surprised at how warm and dry he feels, too. He doesn’t remember changing out of his wet clothes. Actually, he doesn’t remember much after Jay brought him back to the hideout and demanded he stay put on the couch for the rest of the day. As much as Carlos wanted to voice his protest, his body wouldn’t allow for it. He passed out almost immediately once his head hit the cushions.

“Pup!”

Carlos is jostled from his thoughts when Mal approaches, hastily plopping herself on the couch and instantly launching into a thorough examination. Carlos grunts, pushing at her chest when he squeezes her chin and pulls him toward her, peering into his eyes and using her free hand to pluck up his eyelids.

“Mal, back off already!” He pushes against her chest again, and this time she falls back a little and releases his chin. Still, she’s quick to lean in again, one hand pressing on his knee to lift her gaze, her eyes continuing to skim appraisingly over his eyes and face.

“I’m fine. I swear,” he tries to reassure her. He places his hand over hers on his knee, but pulls back a little when he encounters something fluffy and soft, like animal fur.

Fur??

His head drops to his lap, completely unable to hide his shocked expression. There’s a literal fur on him! He starts to scoot himself away, careful not to touch it, until Mal’s arm shoots out and grips his wrist. She’s shaking her head furiously and tries to pull him back in.

“No! Carlos, it’s fake! Not real! Look-” she brushes her hand along the fur, then sweeps open his palm and brings it down to the blanket. It’s…bushy. And a little scratchy. It’s soft enough to mimic fur, but Carlos has seen enough of the real thing to feel confident that this…this isn’t it.

“It’s a fake fur blanket. Jay found it today at the docks.”

Carlos is still smoothing his fingers on the blanket, but Mal’s words make his ears perk up. He looks at her, furrowing his brow.

“The…docks?”

“Yeah! He went back. You know, after he knew you were-” she gestures a Carlos. “-well…ok.”

Carlos bites his lip, watching Mal’s weak smile, the hint of concern still in her eyes. He smiles at her, letting his hand rest back on hers.

“And I am, Mal. I’m ok,” he asserts, nodding at her and gently squeezing her hand.

Mal grins then, sitting up properly and offering another quick smile before casting a glance over her shoulder at Evie, who’s still sleeping.

“Oy! Princess!” She shrills suddenly, and chuckles a little when Evie’s whole body jerks and her head shoots up, eyes wide with surprise. “Pup’s awake, finally. Get your ass over here.”

Evie turns to Carlos, relaxing into a smile when she sees him sitting up and looking at her.

“Oh Carlos! Thank evil.” She moves quickly over to the couch, perching lightly on the edge of it, right next to Carlos’ hip. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugs and tilts his head to crack his neck, shaking out his arms and legs and giving his body a quick once-over.

“Fine, I think,” he says finally, giving Evie a warm smile. “I can’t believe I’m so…dry. And not cold at all. This blanket is amazing.”

Evie brightens, grabbing the blanket in her hand and stroking it between her fingers.

“Isn’t it? Jay did such an amazing job today. He got so many things! I can’t even believe it. Especially since he-“

She stops herself, biting on her finger and glancing away quickly. When she looks back, she forces herself to relax, giving Carlos a comforting smile.

“You know, since we got a late start today. And he insisted on going by himself. He wouldn’t even take Mal with him!”

“Stubborn bastard,” Mal mutters behind her, and Evie throws back a hand and pats her leg.

“Well, it all turned out fine, didn’t it? And he got some great food, too! Carlos, you have to see!”

Evie pops up then with an excited giggle, bouncing back to the table and grabbing a box sitting there.

“Look at this!” She shoves a cup into his hand.

Carlos frowns. It’s filled with a brown, mucky goo that doesn’t look appealing at all. But when Evie steadies it with her head and peels back the lid, a pleasant, sugary aroma fills his nostrils.

“It’s a pudding,” Evie explains. “I don’t know the flavor, Carlos, but it’s SO good. You’re going to love it! Just, try it!”

He perks a brow curiously, dipping a pinky into the cup to carefully scoop the smallest bit of the goo onto the pad of his finger. When it reaches his lips, he takes a tentative sniff before stealing a tiny lick with the tip of his tongue.

But even that little taste invades his mouth with a delicious sweetness. It’s sugary, smooshy, and possibly the most amazing thing he’s ever tasted. He’s quick to shovel more and more into his mouth, forgoing his finger and choosing to use his whole hand instead. His mouth is full and his fingers are absolutely coated with pudding when he hears someone clearing their throat loudly.

“Um, ‘Los?”

His eyes shoot up, and Carlos sees Jay, standing in the doorway with the quirk of a smile on his lips.

“So, I take it that means you’re feeling better?”

Carlos nods emphatically, smooshing pudding through his cheeks and doing his best to swallow it all down. He licks his fingers clean, wiping any remnants on his shorts as Jay approaches, his eyes focused only on Carlos until he’s standing right in front him. He barely notices as Mal grabs Evie’s arm to pull her away until the girl almost smacks into him.

But by the time Evie scoots away, shooting him an awkward smile and mumbled apology, he’s already back to watching Carlos intently. So much so that the boy can’t help but flush a little under Jay’s stare.

“Um, you’ve got…” Jay points at Carlos’ mouth, then ducks down to cup Carlos’ cheek in his hand. His thumb brushes his mouth gently, and Carlos’ eyes flutter at the tender touch.

Jay pulls away suddenly, and Carlos’ eyes blink back open to see him sucking the same finger into his mouth.

“Y-you had some pudding, there,” Jay makes a circle gesture at Carlos’ mouth, and the boy flusters instantly, wiping at his face with the back of his sleeve. But Jay grabs his hand to stop him.

“It’s ok. You’re good,” he says with a grin. He pulls back again and lets his hand drop. He just stands there for a significant beat, hovering over Carlos, as if wants to say, or ask, something.

Carlos smiles warmly and pats the couch next to him, a wordless invitation to which Jay immediately complies, sitting himself close enough so that they’re just barely touching.

“You-did you, change my clothes?” Carlos asks. “I just…I woke up so warm, and dry.”

“Yeah, I did! Eves helped me. Good thing we keep some stuff here at the hideout, right? I was afraid you’d freeze if we didn’t get you into something dry fast. I mean, I would have run to your house too if I had to, but it was easier-”

Jay stops when Carlos covers Jay’s hand with his own.

“I know you would. Thank you.”

Jay beams proudly, then looks down at Carlos’ hand. He turns his own to catch it, wrapping Carlos’ in his and moving to intertwine their fingers.

“I found this blanket, too, cause I wanted to keep you warm. It’s nice, isn’t it?” He touches the blanket and smiles to himself.

“And the food? I knew you’d like that pudding, but you’ve got to try the other stuff! There’s this cranberry sauce stuff that looks like jell-o but it’s actually pretty good. And I found some good loaves of bread too! And I got a shit ton of other cans of stuff. It was a pretty good haul, I think.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Carlos admits. His smile falters though, and he lets out a deep sigh. “I’m glad you were able to get all this stuff, even though I was a dumbass and almost drowned.”

Jay squeezes his hand tightly and purses his lips into a tight frown. “No! Don’t say that!” He blurts, shaking his head furiously. “That was NOT your fault. That could have been any of us. I almost fell through the ice too, right before you did! That was a stupid thing for us to do.”

Carlos’ lip trembles, and Jay reaches for him, pulling him close against his chest.

“Look, I’m just glad you’re ok. That’s all that matters to me. To Eves and Mal, too. Fuck, that was scary Pup.”

He strokes Carlos’s cheek, and then hooks his fingers under his chin to tip his head up to meet his eyes.

“I thought for a sec I might…lose you.”

He places a soft kiss to Carlos’ lips, which he quickly melts into, hooking a hand around Jay’s neck to pull him in for another. And another. After a prolonged minute, Jay starts to push Carlos down to the couch, but he’s stopped by loud grunts of protest behind him.

Carlos chuckles, his face turning red as he glances at Mal and Evie over Jay’s shoulder, sitting at the table just a few feet from him. He’s quick to plant his hands and push himself back upright, despite Jay’s disappointed groans.

“Look, we’re all glad Pup’s ok, Jay-Jay, but that doesn’t mean I’m down for some live porn viewing, ok?” Mal teases, laughing and lurching away when Evie swats her arm. “What?! You want to see it?”

“Don’t be vulgar,” Evie hisses. “But you don’t have to be mean, either. We’re just, all happy that Carlos is safe, that’s all.”

“Yeah Mal,” Jay tuts. “At least Evie’s ok with me showing Carlos how happy I am. Cockblocker.”

He sticks his tongue out at Mal’s fake gags, but smiles triumphantly when Evie finally yanks her up to drag her out the door. When the door shuts behind them, he turns back to Carlos with a winning smile and a wink.

“Now Jay…” Carlos starts, putting a hand to his chest. But instead of diving back in, Jay just clasps Carlos’ hand there, and starts to rub it softly with his thumb.

“It’s fine, you know I like fucking with Mal. You know we don’t have to do anything. But-”

His eyes trail down to Carlos’ lips, focusing on them for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

“Can you just, do one thing for me?”

“Of course,” Carlos replies instantly. “Anything.”

Jay smiles at that, his thumb still moving mindlessly across Carlos’ skin.

“Just, promise me you won’t die, ok? I can put up with a lot of shit on this island, but not that. I can deal with fucking anything but that.”

Carlos breaks into a wide smile, choking back a laugh of surprise. He can’t stop himself from leaning back in then, and pressing a firm kiss to Jay’s lips.

“How about, I promise to do everything in my power not to die, ok? But only if you promise me, too.”

Jay grins, and pulls Carlos in closer by his elbow until their foreheads are touching.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Pup.”

#jaylos #fluff and angst #ice adventures #isle of the lost #descendants #jay son of jafar #Carlos De Vil #evie grimhilde #mal bertha #gil legume #harry hook #uma daughter of ursula #my writing #descendantsgiftexchange #callous_and_misunderstood

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