#oooo i might start adding pictures to these summaries i might do that now actually

[what-aboutno]

Area unknown Owen pov summary

Stream name- A new adventure!

Prev summary next summary

- wakes up in the grave and goes back to working

- finds a flower forrest and decides to make his base there

- starts cutting down trees and clearing out the general area

- we hear a bit about how before he died he was the flower prince, hence the flower crown on his head

- gets a new 'friend' it's a pillager

- he wants to do something with his base with like layers of glass. To give it specific effect like a fading effect and misty. so he's mining out the dirt there

- he's forgotten who au!Scott is so they meet again. And au!Scott is now helping with the digging

- not really important but kinda? But they go to town and they see the enchanting table has been stole

- au!Scott mention a little casual lore about the underworld, and how they're moving on from the old ways and want to peacefully move souls. And says maybe his brother is worried about him being there is because au!Aimsey is still using the old ways, lying.

-He hopes he's here in time enough to help undo any damage his brother has done and blames au!Aimsey for the stolen enchanted table

- au!Moonzy comes to help with mining and she has maxed out gear

-au!Owen remembers au!Moonzy but not their trip

- The trio go and enchant some stuff at au! Moonzy's place

-More mining, it's like a bowl shape

- au!Owen can hear the souls in au!Scott's lantern (au!Scott has a lantern which is where his chat is canonically)

- they decide they're gonna steal borrow a beacon in town from au!Oli's shop

- au!Oli confronts them about the beacon because they immediately got caught after all getting the achievement after stealing borrowing it

- au!Scott lies and says his brother gave him permission and tries to make au!Aimsey look bad as a business partner for not telling au!Oli I think?

- it seems au!Scott has gained au!Oli's trust

- Scotts chat decides to keep au!Moonzy as well as au!Owen now

- au!Owen remembers the trip with au!Moonzy finding the wonders of the world!

- Longer spends time with people the more likely he is to remember them. Who he remembers is mostly a gamble but spending more time seems to help

- at some point au!Scott says that he's friends with au!Owen and au!Moonzy

- Au!Moonzy has lost 6/9 lives, 2 of which were lost in the area unknown place (she lost 4 lives from the place she was before)

- au!Owen's chat are canonically bees because he's the flower prince. And they grab on his hair in boat rides and huddle in the flower crown when its raining

- au!Owens favourite flower is a white tulip!

- People can walk through him but it feels uncomfortable, kinda like pins and needles he says

- he can also see dead animals and such because he's a ghost, he can interact with them but the living can't see them

- don't know how canon this is but au!Scott placed candle to stop him going back to the other realm (they joked around that he was going back to the ghost realm while he was experiencing lots of lag)

- wonderduo go on another trip to get more sand and gravel for the concrete powder for the build

- au!Owen had a bad relationship with his father before he died? It's implied as he says "well he must not have looked after me if I'm dead" or something like that

-Au!Scott keeps saying he'll return the beacon when they're done with it. Implies he's got other intentions when it comes to returning the beacon. Possibly going to frame is brother in some way? Based on his conversation before with au!Oli

- So overall au!Owen is building his new house. He's building a tunnel take to get to his world. Trying to open a rift in space and time so people are able to visit the ghost realm as ghost people together.

- he also gets overstimulated as a ghost so the area is a nice peaceful and quiet void for him

- au!Soup is also canonically just liquid soup with clothes fr fr /j (joke from the stream)

[imjusthereforbatfam]

Never-Ending Encore, ch 7.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Chapter Summary: Very Drinks Café. That’s the name of the café. I’m literally not even joking. Anyway, would you like a slice of unresolved childhood trauma with that stalker mix-up?

Warnings: minor swearing, extremely minor mention of su*cide (like, you might even miss it), panic attack

Note: Ede is pronounced “EE-d”, like “need” or “greed”, and Edie is pronounced “EE-Dee”, like “needy” or “greedy.”

---

Being a professional actor was a more tiring and time-consuming line of work than Eden had originally thought. She was so accustomed to her old community theater’s three hours of practice three times a week that she’d expected something similar when she arrived in Gotham. Landing her first “real” gig was a wake-up call. Six 8-hour days in a row taught her just how much time and energy professionals put into their craft.

In Gotham’s theater world, Monday was considered the weekend. There were no performances for audiences to view and no practices for cast members to attend, so Sundays were often filled with tired actors excited to go for drinks or eager to sleep in.

This particular Sunday, Eden was brimming with energy. So much so she actually volunteered to take someone’s place on the daily mid-afternoon caffeine run. The director, Daphne, gave Eden a half-amused smile as she put in the usual order on her phone then sent the small group on their way.

“Somebody’s chipper today,” Aaron grumbled, still sour about not being able to convince anyone to take his turn.

Eden ignored his mood. “Yep! A sort-of friend of mine might be coming over tonight and I’m excited to see him.”

Veronica glanced over her huge sunglasses with an approving smirk. “Oooo, yeah?”

Even when it wasn’t her turn on the caffeine run, Veronica, one of the show’s leads, almost always joined the group. She had a very particular drink from a very particular café in the area she adored, and she would always lead the group there before grabbing everyone else’s drinks at Stardunks. She always bought the other runners something for their trouble too, which was probably the politest thing Eden had seen in Gotham.

“Good for you, Edie,” Veronica went on. “I didn’t take you for the friends-with-benefits type.”

“Friends with—?” Her brain froze. It lumbered over itself, trying to comprehend the idea of Red Hood – big, strong, muscles-for-days Red Hood –, the infamous vigilante, being friends with benefits… With her.

Her face exploded with color.

“Ohnononono! I mean, I meant like, meaning we aren’t exactly friends yet, is what I meant! Like we’re almost friends but not exactly, like— I mean— You know— Not— Not that there’s anything wrong with being friends with benefits, of course! Of course not! Who doesn’t like a good benefit— friend— thing?”

Aaron let out a low, dry “Woooow” and Veronica made an unimpressed face, the girl not caring at all for Eden’s fumbling. Knowing this, Eden’s face grew hotter and her words came out higher and faster.

“It’s just that I, you know, I personally— I mean, the guy’s sweet-as-pie and funny-as-heck but I don’t really know him that well and, you know, it just seems like a bit of a personal thing to jump into, and I’m really not all that—”

“Oh my god, it’s fine, Eden!” Veronica finally shouted with a roll of her eyes. “You’re not in Alabama or Indiana or whatever backwater state you’re from—”

Eden nearly lost her footing, her body stumbling as her brain stumbled over the insult. Veronica, now tuned into her phone, didn’t notice.

“—I was just trying to be supportive. No need to be a spaz about it.”

Eden gaped at Veronica, still not quite believing her ears. But disbelief didn’t stop her blood from boiling.

“Excuse—”

“Anyway!” Aaron said quickly, grabbing Veronica’s attention. “Have you seen pictures of the dress they’re putting you in for the ball scenes yet?”

“Have you? Ugh, it looks atrocious. Can you believe they want me to wear that shade of yellow? Like, seriously? I’m supposed to be the most beautiful sister, not the one who looks like she’s covered in mustard!”

Eden glared at Aaron from behind Veronica’s ranting head. He caught it and threw a warning look back, shaking his head minutely. Fuming, Eden sharpened her gaze then turned away, ignoring the both of them as best she could.

Veronica was a bit spoiled. The way she spoke about the vacations across Europe and the galas she and her father attended up and down the Northeastern coastline made it impossible to miss. Even so, Eden usually thought she was nice enough.

She was incredibly friendly for a Gothamite – especially a wealthy one – but she often tossed out carelessly ignorant comments that left Eden balking. It didn’t help that no one in the cast ever really corrected her, either. Even the director, though firm, was careful when critiquing Veronica.

Eden didn’t understand why they did it, but she didn’t care for it at all. It left a burning itch under her skin in desperate need of a scratch. But every time she went to, someone else interrupted her or stole Veronica’s attention away and gave her a warning look. It was infuriating.

As they approached the fancy café, Café Très Boissons written in thin white print across the window, someone’s phone started to buzz.

“I have to take this,” Veronica announced, shoving her purse into Eden’s hands.

Eden, not paying attention, nearly dropped it. “Whoa! Wha—”

“Go in and ask for my usual drink and whatever you two want. Use the pink card, yeah?”

“Huh?”

She put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Daddy, how was your flight?” She made a shooing motion at Eden then turned to focus on her phone call. Eden gaped at her, but she didn’t notice.

Aaron, who didn’t seem offended at all, nudged Eden and headed toward the door. She looked between him, the purse, and the infuriatingly oblivious young woman who’d handed it to her, before shaking her head and following him in.

She’d been to Café Très Boissons once before, about a week ago with Veronica and another cast member when it had officially been her turn on the caffeine run. Letting the door close behind her, she found the place just as unpleasant as the last time.

Everything was too… crisp. Too light and bright and minimalist. It was like stepping out of real-life and into a far-too-expensive décor magazine. The air was stiff, too. Suffocating, even. How anybody was supposed to relax in a place like this, Eden didn’t know.

The other patrons weren’t very welcoming either. They all dressed in smart, sleek clothing and held themselves like incredibly important people, all too busy with incredibly important things to pay anyone else any mind. Those who did happen to notice Eden and Aaron – who looked distinctly “artsy” amongst the ironed slacks and sleek skirts – quickly dismissed them.

The only ones who didn’t match the rest of the crowd – in both attire and actions – was a group of young men tucked into one of the corner booths. Eden could immediately guess which of them had suggested the spot, as he was the only one who roughly fit the dress code and seemed to be enjoying himself. (The pre-teen next to him fit it perfectly, wearing the same fitted attire as everyone else, but he had a distinctly unimpressed frown fixed to his face.)

The other two with him were easily Eden’s favorite people in the place. Amongst all the prim and pomp of everyone and everything else around them, those two were wearing hoodies.

The tired-looking teen in the black Superman hoodie still sat up nicely and gave some regard to where he was, but the one in red did not give into the café’s demands of refinement in the slightest. In fact, the way he was lounging in his seat with his arms crossed and hood drawn up, he almost looked ready to take a nap. His resolve to not give a damn was nothing if not admirable.

“Hi, Veronica!” the barista chirped, startling Eden both with the name and how happy he sounded to see her in this unfriendly place. “I already started your usual but what else can I…” He blinked at her. “Oh, whoops,” his tone, though still professional, dropped. “Sorry, miss, I thought you were somebody else.”

“Uh, that’s alright. I’m actually ordering for a Veronica who comes in here every day, so…”

“Veronica Bradford?”

Eden nodded slowly, then turned to Aaron to be sure.

“Yeah, that’s her,” he confirmed. “And I’ll have the same, but with the blueberry whip and no caramel.”

The barista nodded, writing that down, then turned to Eden, who was awkwardly fishing through Veronica’s big white purse to find the girl’s wallet.

“And you, miss?” he prompted.

“Oh, uh, do you have sweet tea?”

“We have tea and sweeteners we can add? Sugar and sugar-free options.”

“No, that’s— I’m good actually, thank you.”

“Are you sure? We have plenty to choose from.”

“No, that’s alright. Thank you.”

“Just get what we’re getting,” Aaron pressed. “It’s not bad, and you’re not paying for it anyway.”

“Neither are you,” she reminded him.

He shrugged.

“They are really good, miss,” the barista added. “It’s not tea but it is a sweet latte. It’s one of my favorites to recommend.”

“Oh, alright,” she sighed a little. “I guess I’ll take one, too.”

She went back to digging through the purse. When she finally found Veronica’s wallet, she almost blanched at the luxury brand name printed clearly across the front. Carefully, she opened it and delicately handed the barista the pink credit card. Aaron took over from there and left a huge tip that almost made Eden faint.

She stared at the receipt, blindly following him to a table. The three-digit number stared back.

“You’re giving her this,” she said suddenly, shoving the thin paper at him. “I don’t want nothing to do with that.”

“Oh, calm down, Eden. Her daddy dearest is so rich she won’t even bat an eyelash.”

Eden carefully set the purse onto their table, noticed the same brand name in rose gold on its front, and gently pushed it away from her. “I feel like a thief.”

Aaron scoffed, pulling out his phone. “With that bag? You look the part.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

After a moment, she straightened and lifted herself up to see out the front window. From their high table near the corner, she could just catch the top of Veronica’s head. It moved in such a way that clearly meant she was still on the phone.

“Do I really look like her?” she asked in a small voice, sitting back down. “Like Veronica?”

Even if she wasn’t currently happy with the woman, Eden couldn’t deny she was a little flattered to have been mistaken for her. Veronica was undeniably pretty; beautiful in the way rich folks could easily afford to be. Like every inch of her was perfectly tailored to meet the highest of society’s standards.

“Hmm.” Aaron briefly glanced up from his phone. “I guess I can see it. You could easily be her double for some, like, security reason.”

Eden snorted. “Well if I was, I might just call out sick with the way she was talking to me earlier.”

“Oh, don’t let her get to you,” he said waving a hand. “That wasn’t too bad. She orders everyone around like that every once and a while.”

“That’s not what I was talking about, but that’s definitely rude, too.”

He raised a brow.

“Whatever backwater state I’m from?”

It took him a moment, then, “Oh. Yeah.” He went back to his phone. “Don’t take it personally. She’s just a spoiled little heiress.”

“She basically called me a moron from a state full of morons. How am I not supposed to take that personally? And then she just threw out different states like everyone south of New Jersey is a moron.”

Aaron shrugged, not really caring. “Veronica says things without thinking all the time. She’s nice enough most of the time, right? She’s still buying you a drink.”

“I really don’t give a damn that she’s buying me a drink,” Eden threw back. “She upset me, and she should know it and apologize. Nobody says anything when she does something wrong, and I’m sick of it. I hate how everybody walks on eggshells with her just ‘cause she’s rich.”

“Listen, Eden.” He sounded tired. “You can do whatever the hell you want but I’m trying to give you a heads-up. You’re not from around here and this is, what, your first show with Veronica?”

She nodded.

“Well, the reason nobody says anything,” he said copying her accent (and earning a glare), “isn’t because she’s rich. It’s because if you get on her bad side, you get on her dad’s bad side. And William Bradford pours a lot of money into Gotham’s theater scene. Understand?”

Eden blinked at him. There were a few old, well-to-do families that lived near her hometown who liked to have their fingers in a lot of pies – the Henriksens especially so – so she understood what he was saying perfectly. But still, she couldn’t quite believe her ears.

 Pulling that kind of nonsense in theater? And in Gotham City of all places? Wasn’t there something a little more… underworld-y that Mr. Bradford could focus on?

 “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” Aaron said popping the p. “Happened to one of Veronica’s best friends— ex-best friends, Christina. They had a huge falling out and Christina couldn’t get a single call-back for over a year. She ended up moving to New York to try finding work there, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how cut-throat their theater scene is.”

Eden frowned at the table, then looked up at him again. “Well, that’s a best friend she got in a fight with. I’m nobody to her. If I’m polite about what’s bothering me, she won’t have any reason to ask her daddy to do something like that to me.”

“That’s just it though!” he said leaning over the table, lowering his voice. “Veronica didn’t ask her dad to do it. She didn’t have a clue what was happening with Christina! Just like she doesn’t have a clue why she keeps getting a lead role in every show she auditions for!”

“It’s… not because she’s a good actress?”

Aaron gave her an annoyed, unbelieving look. “Would you have cast her as Jane?”

“Well—” Eden sat up straight. “Well, I mean… Maybe not me personally, but— I mean, she is very pretty, and Jane is canonically the prettiest girl in town, and— and she’s certainly not a bad actress, I mean…”

“No, she’s not,” he agreed. “But she’s definitely not lead-role material. Daphne’s lucky she wanted to play Jane and not Elizabeth. Can you imagine her playing Elizabeth?” Aaron made a scandalized face and obnoxiously rolled his eyes at the thought.

Eden, unable to deny how awful Veronica would likely be in the role but also unwilling to say such a thing aloud, stumbled over a response until a barista called out Veronica’s name.

Eager to take the escape, she hopped out of her chair. “I’ll get that and you guard the purse.”

Aaron just hummed and picked up his phone again.

On her way to the counter, Eden spared a glance at the nearby corner booth, the one with the boys in the hoodies. The four of them were having a lively conversation and she enjoyed the small snippets of back and forth she could catch.

The one in the red hoodie no longer looked ready to take a nap but was instead hunched over the table, his jaw resting in his hand as he made small jabs at the people around him. The younger two snapped back quickly, and the smiling, eldest-looking one laughed while still trying to keep the peace.

The way they were digging at each other reminded Eden of her own “brothers”. She couldn’t help but smile. She sighed, unintentionally loud, missing her loveable idiots.

The one in the red hoodie lifted his head toward the sound but, thanks to the hood covering half his face, Eden was able to turn away before he caught her eavesdropping.

The barista waiting with the drinks gave her a wide smile. “Hi, Veronica! We’re still making your last drink but—” She cocked her head suddenly and squinted. “Wait…”

“No, I’m not Veronica,” Eden said with an amused smile. “But I am here for her drinks.”

“Oh.” The girl laughed at herself. “Sorry about that. The last one’s just going to be another minute.”

Eden nodded, picking up the two that were ready. “Thank you.”

As she returned to her and Aaron’s table, she glanced toward the boys again. This time, the smiling eldest was grinning and whispering something towards red hoodie boy, who was looking in the opposite direction and not-so-subtly flipping him off. The teen in the Superman hoodie accidentally locked eyes with her and the both of them quickly looked away.

Eden then noticed a man in the opposite corner of the café watching her. When she looked at him, he jerked his head away and quickly took a sip from his cup. Eden slowed her walk and furrowed her brows, a tightness forming in her gut.

“Yaaasss,” Aaron called, stealing her attention as he reached for his drink. “Give me that Rich Bitch Latte.”

“Is that what you call it?”

He shrugged, taking a sip. “Mine has blueberry whip cream. If that doesn’t scream rich bitch, what does?”

Eden made a slight face. Blueberry whip cream didn't seem all that luxurious to her – it certainly wasn’t hard to make – but even if it was, she couldn't imagine it tasted good with a latte.

“That barista mixed me up for Veronica too,” she said after a moment.

Aaron snorted. “Maybe you should be her double. You’d get paid good money for it, I’m sure.”

Eden hummed. She turned her attention back to the curious man in the opposite corner.

At first glance, he fit the establishment fine. He wore a simple grey suit and a hat and was now totally engrossed with his phone. But the suit was a little too non-descript and untidy, and the hat a bit beat-up. Not to mention, slouching in his seat like he was, he didn’t match the prim, properness of most of the other patrons.

Though… maybe she was being unfair to him. After all, she’d praised the guy in the red hoodie for the same thing, hadn’t she?

She glanced to the booth of boys again. The one in the red hoodie must have been looking at her because his head moved the second hers did. Eden didn’t get a tight, sinking sensation in her stomach when he did, though. Nor had she when she locked eyes with the teenager.

She turned back to the older man, still fidgeting with his phone. What was the difference between them? Maybe it was weirder because he was older. The other guys were closer to her age and therefore… what, safer?

Eden huffed at herself. Age wasn’t an indication of danger, she knew that. The people who came to the farm looking for safety were hiding from men of all ages. (They were almost always hiding from men.) From young men full of piss and vinegar and a sense of superiority; old men with strings to pull and favors they could call in; men of any age with a brutal mean streak that came from years of privilege, or hardship…

So it wasn’t their age. And none of them were dressed “appropriately” for the cafe – though the hoodie boys even less so – so it wasn’t that either. Maybe it was how stiffly and forcibly the man had reacted when Eden noticed him staring. Though that, too, didn’t necessarily mean any—

“Veronica Bradford!” the barista called again, breaking Eden’s thoughts.

On her second trip back to the table, Eden watched the man from the corner of her eye. It seemed like he was looking at her again too, adding to her concern. He moved his hands a bit and then—

Eden stopped. She turned to stare directly at the man, who hurried to shift his torso so his phone was no longer pointing at her. She scowled. She knew exactly what he was now. But what in the world was a scout doing here of all places?

A scout – as Mama always called them – could be anybody. A private investigator or a random person off the street; it didn’t matter. Their job was simple: find their mark and get proof of where and when they were and who they were with.

But… who was this guy’s mark? It couldn’t be Eden. He was taking her picture, sure, but… The only people who might be looking for her were her parents, and neither of them would have recruited someone so… obvious.

Still, she reported it to Aaron as she sat down. “There’s a man taking pictures,” she told him gravely.

He glanced up at her, giving her a weird look. “O…kay? Everyone takes pictures here. It’s a wannabe Snapstagram influencer’s wet dream.”

“I meant,” she said frowning, “he’s taking pictures of me.”

“Huh? Who?” He looked around without a hint of subtlety.

Eden smacked her head with her hand. She could’ve kicked him. Of course, it was her own fault for thinking he would understand. Aaron wasn’t one of her “cousins” or semi-siblings. He was just some guy from Gotham who knew nothing about life on Paradise Farm.

“Would you stop!?” she hissed, trying to hide her face from the scout. “He’s behind you, in the corner booth by the windows. Grey suit, brown hat— Don’t be obvious.”

Aaron, bless him, finally caught on. He turned his head slowly from one end of the café to the other. He stared at the man a few beats too long then turned back to her.

“Are you sure? He just looks like his phone’s giving him trouble.”

Eden shook her head. “I caught him doing it, so now he’s nervous. He was just staring at me the first time I got up, but the second time he had his phone pointed at me and everything.”

He looked over his shoulder at the scout, then back again. “Maybe he’s paparazzi,” he offered. “The baristas all thought you were Veronica. Maybe he does, too.”

Eden blinked at him. She hadn’t thought of that. Despite not being anywhere near the farm, the idea the man could be anything but a scout hadn’t even crossed her mind. But it made some sense… After all, who would he even be scouting? Nobody here was in hiding.

“She has paparazzi?”

“Local heiress constantly landing lead roles who models on the side?” Aaron shrugged.  “She’s not headline news or anything, but she pops up in local shit every once and a while.”

Eden frowned at her drink. She glanced over at the man again, taking a sip of her latte. “And are paparazzi people always so nervous when they get caught?”

“Do I look like I know the answer to that?”

“You’ve been around Veronica longer than I have,” she insisted. “You’d know better than I would.”

“I guess,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. He thought about it a moment. “I don’t know. She doesn’t usually notice them, but I guess some of them get a little embarrassed when other people do. But, like, it’s their job. They can’t exactly be bashful about it or they won’t get paid.”

She nodded thoughtfully and took another sip, reluctant to admit it tasted extremely good.

Her eyes slid over to the man once more. Then she stopped and glared. Loudly, she slammed her cup onto the table — startling Aaron and catching other patrons’ attention as well. Including the man, who’d been pointing his phone at her again.

He scrambled to put it away, stood, and started grabbing his things.

“I think you scared him, Veronica,” Aaron muttered sarcastically.

“Good.” She leaned back in her chair and took a celebratory drink, not taking her eyes off the man. “Paparazzi, huh?”

“Well, what else would he be?” Aaron asked, rolling his eyes again. “A stalker? The guy doesn't exactly scream danger. Anyway, he’s leaving now so it doesn’t—”

Eden jerked up in her seat. “Uh-oh.”

The real Veronica stepped through the door. Looking around, she spotted Aaron and Eden near the back corner, smiled, and started walking toward them. A flabbergasted expression crossed the man’s face when she passed him by.

“Uh-oh.”

The oblivious heiress didn’t notice him stop walking or the way he was watching her. But Eden did. And she knew that look in his eye.

“Oh, no.”

The scout had found his mark.

Eden didn’t think about it. One second she was sitting in her chair – buzzing with wild, nervous energy – the next she was grabbing Veronica’s drink and taking long strides across the café’s shining floors. She grinned playfully at the unsuspecting girl.

Veronica’s smile didn’t fall, but her brows furrowed slightly as Eden approached. “Hey, sorry about that. Daddy always calls me when he gets to a new hotel.”

“Oh, no problem, Eden!” Eden said handing Veronica her drink.

Veronica took it, went to speak, then seemed to short-circuit — suddenly blinking and staring at her in a baffled way. Eden took the moment to link their arms and move her away from the scout, who seemed stuck in place.

“Actually, my daddy does the same,” she said in the same, polished Rich-Girl-Gothamite accent she’d used before. “We’re super close. Oh, and tell me if you like the drink, yeah? It’s my favorite. I get it every day.”

Veronica glanced down at her drink, then up at Eden, totally lost.

As they approached the table, Eden did a quick sweep of their surroundings and was glad they were sitting where they were. Their table was near the side exit and all the nearby tables were empty, save the now silent booth of boys.

Though none of them were looking in her direction, Eden couldn’t help quirking a brow in theirs, wondering what had dulled their lively spirits.

“So… what’s going on exactly?” Veronica asked in a nervous pitch as they reached Aaron.

“Eden thinks she has a stalker,” he explained.

“No,” Eden corrected in her own voice. “I think Veronica has a scout— stalker— whatever thing. And they think Veronica is me.”

“They…” Veronica looked between the two of them, then laughed nervously. “Oh, Edie, that’s… I seriously doubt anyone would think you were me.”

“Two of the baristas thought I was you.”

“Brayden thought she was you,” Aaron confirmed.

Veronica’s mouth fell open. She stared at the guy behind the register in disbelief before turning it on Eden. Eden just grinned and moved her head to the side like she’d heard something funny.

There, in the corner of her eyes, she could see the man inching back to his corner booth. Watching them.

“Oh my god, Edie!” she said loud and clear in her Veronica voice, setting the real Veronica into a seat facing away from the man. “You are just too cute!”

“Wait.” Veronica leaned over, talking low. “Why are you talking like a normal person now?”

A flash of anger broke Eden’s character. “Excuse me?”

“Why are you talking like a normal person now?” she repeated, apparently unaware of her offense. “And why are you calling me Eden?”

Eden took a deep breath, trying to regain her cool. “I’m not talking like a ‘normal person’,” she explained slowly, being sure to sit up straight and hold her head in the proud, haughty way the rest of the patrons did. “I’m talking like you. And I’m calling you Eden so that scout-stalker guy leaves you alone.”

“She’s being your double,” Aaron said with a grin. Eden glared at him. “Am I wrong?”

She looked away. “No,” she grumbled.

He nodded, satisfied.

Veronica looked between the two of them, not getting it, then turned back to Eden. “Why are you doing this exactly? Are you expecting me to pay you for it?”

“What? No! I’m helping you because you're in trouble, obviously.”

The other two stared at her. Somehow that simple concept seemed foreign to them.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Don’t you two act like you’ve never helped anybody out before just to be nice. I know this is Gotham but come on now. Not everybody in this city can be that heartless.”

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Aaron cooed, resting a hand over his heart. Eden glared at him.

Veronica tried to say something, stopped, then tried again. “But… why? It’s not your problem, so…”

“So what? That guy’s trouble.” Eden tilted her head. “Do you… want some scout-stalker taking your picture? Knowing where you’ve been and when you go?”

“No, but… Are you sure he’s trouble?” she asked. “Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, some weirdo who likes taking pictures of pretty girls.”

“Could be.” Eden shrugged. “But I seriously doubt it, the way he’s been acting. It’s just sorta… obvious he’s here for you.”

“Obvious?” She made a face and started looking around the café – thankfully never over her shoulder – trying to find the trouble herself. “I don’t see anyone making it obvious.”

“You’re just not used to it.”

“And you are?”

Eden opened her mouth and shut it. She shuffled in her seat, not really sure how to explain it. Back home, she’d never had to explain it. Everybody just knew. And not just her small town. The whole county knew.

They knew Paradise Farm and its famous little bakery. They knew Mama and Eden and her mismatched group of semi-siblings (or of them, at least). They knew if you needed a place to go, Paradise Farm had its doors open, and “cousins” were always welcome.

Some who came, came for simple reasons. Wandering free spirits who enjoyed earning their stay and living more-or-less off the land, people who needed a little space after an argument, a partygoer looking for a safe place to sober up before heading home; simple things like that.

But sometimes it was more. Sometimes the reasons were complicated. Kids who’d been kicked out of their homes, kids trying to escape their homes, abused spouses who just wanted to disappear, people who couldn’t go to the law because an officer or a judge was a part of the problem; the kinds of folks who had nowhere else to go, no one left to turn to. The kind who needed help.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Aaron lowered his voice and moved closer, his eyes sparkling. “Are you, like… some kind of small-time hero? Is that why you moved to Gotham? To like, meet Batman and become a vigilante?”

Eden recoiled at the notion. “No! No, no, I’m—!” She chomped down on the words trying to fly out of her mouth, trying to control herself. “I’m not— I don’t— Don’t get me wrong, I like helping people and stuff,” she said fiddling with the table’s edge, very aware of Aaron’s eager, penetrating expression. “But I’m not like�� I’m not a, a—” she couldn’t even say the word. Not when it was being tied to her.

Still, Aaron just nodded along. Looking for all the world like an unmasked hero was sitting in front of him and begging him to keep their secret. Eden’s hands started to shake. It was like talking to her father all over again.

“Really, Aaron. I’m… I’m not,” she said, trying to be firm. “I couldn’t do the things they do.”

“You could try,” he insisted, sounding just like him.

Eden went numb.

She couldn’t. She really, really couldn’t. She knew because she had tried. She’d tried, and tried, and tried so many times. But no matter how many times she tried, no matter how many times Frank had told her it was her purpose, her destiny, her responsibility, she just plain couldn’t.

When Mama found out, she was furious. Not with Eden. But with Frank. It was too much for a kid to handle, especially one like Eden, she’d said. She never wanted her daughter to endure that kind of sacrifice and pain—

Oh, the pain! Every time – every goddamn time – there was always so much pain!

Not that she had any right to complain, as Frank would remind her. She was a metahuman; her body always healed.

And it did.

It healed, and healed, and healed. Erasing every bullet, every blade, every hand that ever left its mark on her; stealing away every scar she might’ve earned, every wound she might’ve carried. It healed, and healed, and healed. So perfectly, so flawlessly, so unnaturally — and it never stopped.

Even when she died, it didn’t stop. It didn’t matter if someone killed her themselves or if she took on someone else’s death. Even if it was by her own hand, it didn’t stop. She always came back. Her body always healed. The universe always demanded an encore.

It never, ever, ever stopped.

“Are you okay, Ed— I mean, Veronica?” Veronica said obviously, garnering some of Eden’s attention. “You look a little sick.”

“She’s just freaking out ‘cause I figured out she’s not the everyday normal person she pretends to be,” Aaron said smugly.

Eden still couldn’t speak.

Veronica smacked him. “Don’t be an idiot, Aaron. You’re freaking her out because you’re insisting there’s something remarkable about her when there isn’t at all! E— Veronica is completely normal and average in every possible way.”

Eden winced at the unintended insult. Aaron made a slight face too, but, of course, Veronica didn’t notice.

“Anyway, Veronica,” she continued, turning back to her. “You’ve done this sort of thing before, yeah? What do we do now?”

Eden blinked a few times, still pulling herself out of her spiral, then glanced over at the scout. “Well… Normally I’d try to get a picture of the person, but…”

“But?” Aaron asked eagerly.

She froze again. She took a long, deep breath. “Well… since I made such a fuss catching him in the act earlier, I don’t think we’ll see him again.”

He pouted. “Really? You think a stalker’s going to give up just like that?”

“No, he—” Eden huffed and shook her head. “He’s not the real problem. He’s just some guy who’s supposed to be taking Veronica’s pictures. Maybe figuring out her routine or whatever. But he got caught twice, so whoever sent him probably won’t send him again unless they’re desperate. Or stupid, I suppose. Either way, I doubt taking his picture would really help much. Though I guess it could help us figure out who hired him in the first place, but I don’t really know who I’d send it to here—”

She stopped her rambling, noticing the open-mouthed, wide-eyed way her companions were staring at her.

“Oh— I— Uh—" She quickly took a sip of her nearly forgotten latte, trying to hide behind the cup. “Sorry,” she murmured.

Aaron shook himself, almost violently, out of his stupor. “Oh, okay, yeah, you just know all this crap and you’re not a vigilante or something?”

“I’m not,” she grumbled. “My mama taught me what to watch out for, so I do.”

“So your mom’s the vigilante?”

“My—" Eden blinked and shook her head fervently, trying to follow his logic. "What?”

Not that she’d admit it to a pair of acquaintances, but anyone who her mama – like, really knew her, not the role she played – knew Louanne Smith was more likely to be on a most-wanted list than be considered a vigilante. Though Red Hood was probably on a few wanted lists himself, now that she thought about it, and her mama certainly broke the law not turning over certain people to the sheriff, so maybe she would be considered a vigilante?

“Ugh, ignore him, Edi— Veronica,” Veronica said rolling her eyes. “Aaron has a total hard-on for Gotham’s bats. He loves the way they break the law and—"

“What is wrong with breaking the law if it means helping people?” he burst in.

“We have laws for a reason, Aaron,” Veronica insisted. “I can admit Gotham’s vigilantes help the little people here and there—” Eden bristled at her tone “—but in the grand scheme of things—” 

“In the grand scheme of things, they help people. End of story.” Veronica shot him a dirty look, but he made no move to try and placate her. This, apparently, was a hill worth dying on. “End of story,” he said again.

“Oh, yeah right, like you really care. Everyone knows you’re just in love with Red Hood’s thighs.”

“I can care about what the vigilantes do for this city and still appreciate how sexy they are,” Aaron said proudly. “Red Hood’s jacked and has the thighs of a god and I’m not ashamed to admit I would tap that in an instant.”

Eden made an involuntary high-pitched sound. She stared dead at the table, trying not to think about Red Hood as her face grew piping hot and she curled in on herself.

“Besides, you’re one to talk,” Aaron continued, either ignoring or not noticing Eden’s discomfort. “You always go on and on about how hot Nightwing’s ass is!”

“Which it is, but that’s not the point! They might be hot but vigilantes are the reason we have so many crazy supervillains in this city!”

“Those hot vigilantes are the only reason we have any sort of justice in this city!”

Hiding her burning face in her hands, Eden just shook her head, trying to phase out of existence as they went back and forth on their stances of law, order, and whether or not Batman was a dilf.

Eventually, she peeked through her fingers and found the scout watching them with an uncertain look on his face. His phone was still in his hand, however, close to his chest and pointed in her direction, so they weren’t out of the woods yet.

Eden groaned and ran her fingers through her hair as she dropped her head. Then she popped back up, her expression taut, like an heiress who’d been ignored for far too long.

“Ex—cuse—me!” she said clapping her hands, forcing the bickering to finally stop. She gave them a tight smile, speaking lowly in her own voice. “Y’all can have this… discussion some other time – preferably when I’m not here – but right now, we’re in the middle of something.” She stood from her seat. “So I’m gonna need you two to stop. Now.”

The guilty party shared a look then muttered an annoyed agreeance.

“Thank you,” she said with a nod. “Now then.” She grabbed Veronica’s big white purse and confidently slung it over her shoulder. “Are we ready to go?” she asked loud and clear in her Veronica voice, gesturing to the side door. “I’m sure Daphne and the rest of the cast are waiting for us.”

“Sure thing, Veronica,” Aaron said a little louder than usual. “Lead the way.”

Eden smiled and linked arms with the real Veronica, constantly shifting to keep the girl’s face hidden from the scout as much as possible. As they exited the café, she pointed to something down the street, giving Veronica an excuse to keep her head turned.

Eden on the other hand tried to catch a glimpse of the scout from the corner of her eye. Instead, she ended up latching on to the group of boys one last time.

A few of them looked uncomfortable but all four were quiet, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts. But Eden could tell that wasn’t right. Even if they didn’t seem focused on anything in particular, she knew they were. It was almost like she could see that they were… were… She didn’t know what to call it. Ready? On? Something like that. But why? What for?

The guy in the red hoodie shifted back, leaning lazily against the booth cushions. His hood stayed in place despite his head tipping up toward the ceiling. Though unable to see his eyes, Eden had the sudden sense that he was watching her.

Should she be nervous? Had she set too much of her attention on the man on the other side of the café? Should she have been watching these boys as well? She didn’t feel like she needed to worry about them. Had she made a mistake?

She walked arm-in-arm with Veronica until they reached the end of the block and crossed the street. There, she released the girl and spun around, scanning the stream of people for the face of the scout, or perhaps even one of the boys.

She suddenly wished she had snuck a picture. Maybe back home it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but this was Gotham. And Veronica was a high-profile local. As much as Eden preferred giving people the benefit of the doubt, this wasn’t a safe situation to assume anything but the worst.

Not seeing anyone from the café, she sighed and rejoined Veronica and Aaron, who were giving her nervous looks. She smiled at them.

“All good.” She took the purse from her shoulder and handed it back to Veronica. “You might want to consider having someone else get your latte for a while. Maybe an assistant or something? And maybe some kind of security for yourself. Just to be safe.”

Veronica nodded mutely, then muttered out a small thank you before taking Eden’s arm again. She held it tightly, with a concerned look on her face, so Eden didn’t complain. Every few blocks they would stop or slow down and she would check the crowd around them for caution’s sake.

The walk to Stardunks and back to the practice hall was fairly quiet, giving Eden plenty of time to think. Mainly she wondered if she should bring up the day’s events to Red Hood. It wasn’t anything vigilante-worthy, not yet anyway, but Veronica’s status certainly made it a possibility. And Eden stepping in as her double probably counted as doing something stupid, which, even though he'd been joking, he’d asked her not to do.

In fact, when they stepped into the practice hall and Veronica started telling everyone what had happened and how Eden had “saved” her, and Aaron reiterated her “vigilante-like knowledge”, and a number of people started looking at her with a curious sort of twinkle in their eyes, the stuttering, blushing Eden was quite certain she’d done something very, very stupid indeed.

---

Next chapter

[ugh-supersoldiers]

Something Tells Me

NOT MY GIF (but I sure do wish it was because look at that jawline oooo baby) 

MASTERLIST

Summary: Soulmates are supposed to be a beautiful gift, created so that no one every goes through life without love. Born with an invisible matching marking, a tattoo to signify their bond, that only reveals itself after the two souls touch for the first time. After escaping Hydra, Bucky hopes more than anything that his soulmate died a long time ago, but little does he know you’re right around the corner.

Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers

Warnings: Soulmate!au, cozy!bucky (this is the single best warning ever), sorta angst but sorta fluff, swearing

Words: 2178

A/N: So this is my first fic that I’m posting, but they’ll be tons more to come if you guys like this one. I’m super new to tumblr but figured this would be a good platform for me so strap in kids.

Bucky didn’t want a soulmate. He’d never met his own, he refused to let himself even picture what they looked like, he didn’t even know their name, but he knew - knew - he didn’t want them. It was sad really, and he knew it, rejecting a soulmate without having even laid eyes on them. And it was for this reason that he forced himself to believe his soulmate was dead.

It only made sense to believe it, after all most soulmates were born within a few years of one another, so how in the world could Bucky ever expect that his own soulmate would even be alive right now if he’d just turned a century old himself? For a long time he didn’t expect this at all, but there was this nagging feeling he had, a tingling right under his skin that made the hair on the back of his neck stick up pin straight whenever he thought about his soulmate - whoever they were. Perhaps this was the universe telling him to smarten up, reminding him that it’s the universe and it knows literally everything that has happened, is happening, and is going to happen, so it most definitely could accommodate for him. But he shrugged it off, refusing to believe that he was that special.

He walked by the Avengers tower, coming back from his stroll around town. It had started to rain about halfway through, and Bucky being, well, Bucky, had forgotten an umbrella. He didn’t mind though, not really at least. He’d always liked rain, it made him feel calm, and as an added bonus, it made the streets quiet. He liked quiet, too.

He walked back in through the revolving doors of the tower and made his way into the elevator, hopping out once it reached the penthouse and making his way to his room. He kicked open the door and let out a relieved sigh.

Home. 

He’d become a major homebody as a result of the last 70 years of his life, taking comfort in staying in instead of going out and being rowdy like he might have when he was younger. But like his youth, his adventurous side faded with time, and now he found more enjoyment in reading and drinking a cup of tea than going on dates and partying.

Dating was most certainly the last thing on his mind. He’d been around the block so many times in desperate search for his soulmate back in the day, that the mere idea of trying to find them again exhausted him.

He shrugged his leather jacket off and tossed it over the desk chair to dry. Stripping out of his other clothing, he threw on some sweats and a maroon cable knit sweater that Steve had bought him last Christmas. Steve had done a lot more for him that just provide cozy lounge wear, Steve had given Bucky his life back, a chance to start over. At first, Bucky thought he didn’t want it, he thought he didn’t deserve it, but one look at the pleading eyes of his best friend and Bucky knew he at least owed Steve a try. 

He pulled the soft blankets of his bed down and got under the covers, snagging the well loved copy of Steven King on Writing from the shelf above his bed, and opening it to the dogeared page which he’d bookmarked this morning. It was his absolute favourite book, and anyone who saw the beat up copy in his hands would be able to tell after just one glance. 

After a chapter or two, he felt his eyes grow heavy, every blink slower than the last. He soon fell asleep listening to the rain tapping against his window.

His was awoken by the sound of a quiet knock on his door. Bucky had become a rather light sleeper, so he nearly shot out of bed when he heard it, his book clattering to the floor at the movement.

“Buck? It’s (Y/N), you usually come down to make a cup of tea around this time, but I’d already made a whole pot so I figured I’d save you the trouble and bring it up to you.”

(Y/N) 

He smiled at your thoughtfulness, like he always did. You’d joined the team a few months ago, and for whatever reason you’d taken a liking to Bucky right away. He didn’t understand why, he was sort of reserved after all, and it took him a long time to feel like he deserved the kind gestures you’d extend to him. A smile here, a casual conversation there, and a cup of tea every once in a while felt like more kindness than he should have. After you’d gotten more comfortable, you started talking to him more about yourself. You began opening up to him, and that’s when your relationship changed. 

You told him about your powers, how you got them, who you’d hurt with them. And in time, he began to open up to you as well.

The entire arrangement of “friends” that the two of you had going was very new, but Bucky loved it because Bucky loved spending time with you.

He walked over to the door with a sleepy grin on his face as he pictured you in his mind, holding a mug out for him. And when he opened the door, he discovered that even his own imagination couldn’t do you justice. You leaned against the doorway with a smile on your face, your hair brush to the side, natural face shining through without a drop of makeup. You wore a light blue sweater and a pair of leggings. You looked so comfortable and cute that Bucky almost forgot why you were there until you held out the tea for him.

“Just with milk,” You said with a shrug, “I know how you like it.” 

He reached out with his metal hand and took the cup from you.

“Thank you.” He said and watched you walk down the hallway back to your own room. He was so focused on you that he barely noticed Steve leaning in the doorway of his room right across from Bucky’s. He must’ve seen the entire exchange.

With a smirk at Bucky’s hopeless face, Steve asked, “You ever touched her hand before?”

This snapped Bucky right back into reality in an instant.

“W-what? Yeah ‘course I have. She just handed me a mug.” He stared down at the hot tea in his hands, watching the wisps of steam rise up and tickle his face.

“That was with your left, Buck,” Steve said, rolling up the sleeves of his cardigan to reveal a black tattoo on his forearm, one he’d gotten years and years ago, “Have you two ever touched before?”

Bucky’s heart began to race at the realization that neither one of you had ever actually touched the other. Bucky wasn’t one for physical contact, a takeaway from his time as the Winter Soldier, and it wasn’t like you two were close enough to really touch anyways.

“My soulmate is dead, Steve.” Bucky said.

“Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself, not me, pal.” Steve shrugged, “Touch her arm next time you see her, and you’ll get your answer.” 

Steve retreated into his room without another word, and left Bucky standing in his own doorway with a cup of tea in his hand and his mouth hung wide open.

It made so much sense. Why else would Bucky feel so connected to you? Why else would you feel like you could confide in him? Why else could the two of you spend hours talking to one another without ever getting bored?

Bucky set his mug down on the counter and raced to your room, the fear of having a soulmate completely washed out of his system. You were here, you were made for him, and that compelled him to be in your life and to love you and care for you like he knew he could. Because even if he didn’t believe that he deserved a soulmate, if there was one thing Bucky was certain of, it’s that you above anyone else deserved one. And if it was indeed him, he was going to make sure that he gave his everything to you.

He knocked on your door frantically, running a hand through his hair anxiously as he heard your footsteps approach your door. It swung open and his heart stopped when he looked at you. 

“Oh! Hey, Buck. What’s wrong? The tea not good or something?” You asked, taking a swig of your own tea in your hand.

Bucky couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think. He stood there looking like an absolute idiot as you stared at him, concerned.

“You alright?” You asked as he remained silent.

He opened his mouth to try and say something, to try and explain himself, but what the hell was he going to say? “Steve has lead me to believe that we’re in fact soul mates and I’m just crazy enough to believe him!” He knew that wouldn’t work.

So instead, he reached forward without thinking and wrapped his flesh had around your exposed arm. 

A searing pain formed under his palm, but he’d felt so much worse before that he barely flinched. You on the other hand, dropped your mug and let out a yelp at the sensation as the mug smashed on the floor.

Bucky pulled his hand away as the blinding light that had enveloped you began to fade. He looked down at his palm and gasped. A small medallion shaped tattoo had inked into his skin covering most of the sensitive part of his palm. The then looked at your arm, which you yourself were now examining, to see the very same tattoo - his tattoo - on the exact place where he had touched you.

You gasped, tears prickling your eyes from the pain you’d experienced as well as the sheer overwhelming love you felt in your heart.

“It’s you.” You said, stepping closer to him, over the shards of mug with wide eyes.

Bucky felt like his mouth was full of cotton, he just stared at you, he stared into the eyes of his soulmate as the world around them began to fade away into nothing. He felt you pin your forehead to his and he sucked in a breath. You were close, so close to him that he felt drunk from exposure.

You reached out for his hand, turning over his palm to look at the marking that has situated itself on his skin, and before Bucky could do anything, you tilted your head up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He could’ve sworn he’d never felt his heart hammer in his chest as hard as it had then. 

He’d heard so many stories about what it was like finding your soulmate but none of them even came close to what he felt now. He was kissing you - kissing the person the universe had saved especially for him throughout decades. Bucky Barnes had never felt more alive in his whole existence. 

You were connected at the mouth, but you were even more connected at heart, your hands pressed firmly to his chest as you deepened the kiss, so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t even notice Steve until he cleared his throat from behind him. 

Your face blushed a shade of red when you looked at him over Bucky’s shoulder, a smirk wide on his lips.

“Heard something smash,” He nodded at the broken tea cup, “But now that I know everything’s okay, an ‘I told you so’ is definitely needed.” He said, staring at the back of Bucky’s head before turning on his heel and heading back in the direction of his room.

You heaved out a sigh, pressing your forehead into Bucky’s chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, resting his chin on your head.

“It’s you.” You repeated, this time much quieter; more of a confirmation than a discovery.

“It’s me.” He whispered into your hair.

“I used to dream about this moment right here.” Your voice was even gentler than before, so gentle that it made Bucky’s heart flutter at the sound.

“I did too.” He confessed, “I’ve waited for you for so long.” 

You looked up at him, with a few tears falling down your cheeks. Tears of joy, this was by far the happiest you’d ever been. Never would you have imagined that you would find your soulmate in a 100 year old ex assassin, but you sure as hell were glad it was him.

“Hopefully I was worth the wait.” You laughed.

“Something tells me you were, doll.” His flesh hand moved to touch your cheek gently and you felt the medallion tattoo tingle against your face.

You already knew that Bucky Barnes was everything you needed, you could feel it on the surface of your forearm where the fresh tattoo still stung. You weren’t bothered by the dull ache of it anymore, you actually found it comforting, as if the sensation made you feel whole.

He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes, breathing in the scent of him that you knew you’d grow to know better than anything else. He was yours, and you were his, and nothing brought you more comfort than knowing that you had the rest of your lives to make up for every second of each others lives that you’d missed.

It marked the beginning of your life with Bucky, who most definitely wanted you in his life. It marked the start of your journey with your soulmate, and you couldn’t wait to see what else was in store.