anon who requested the IPC worker x Aventurine where reader faked their death :D
a part 2 would be cool, how you go abt it id up 2 u but if u would like any ideas…it could maybe have a flashback of their fakeout death and Aven’s reaction, and then flash to the present where he tries to leave IPC to live domestically w Reader, but they get killed for real in the process (i’m angst #1s lover) and now Aven is stuck in the IPC 😭
“At the end of the world, or the last thing I see, you are never coming home” | Part 2
Summary: Memories of your past with Aventurine resurface, unraveling the intense moments that led to your faked death. A flashback reveals the night you made the harrowing decision to disappear, showing how it shattered Aventurine’s world. Torn between loyalty to IPC and his love for you, Aventurine is ultimately willing to risk everything for a future together. However, when he attempts to leave the IPC, tragedy strikes, claiming your life in reality this time. Now, Aventurine must face an eternity of regret and entrapment within the very organization you both sought to escape. Bound to the IPC, haunted by memories of you, he is left yearning for a life he can never have.
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, angst, fake death reveal, intense emotions, love and loss, tragedy, betrayal, hurt/comfort, forbidden love, character death, emotional breakdown, regret, forced separation, internal conflict, bittersweet romance.
Warnings: Intense emotional themes, character death, grief, betrayal, mentions of violence, flashbacks, guilt and regret, dark themes, potential tearjerker, unresolved trauma.
A/N: AHHHH!!! 😭 THAT'S SO MEAN BUT SO GOOD TOO?! MY BABY!!! 🥺💔
(Part 1)
The memory clung to Aventurine like a shadow—one he could never shake. He could still recall every detail from that day years ago, the day he’d thought he’d lost you forever. In his mind, it was as if he were back there now, reliving the dreadful series of events that tore you from his life.
It had started with an anonymous tip. He’d been in the heart of IPC headquarters, surrounded by the opulent furnishings and hushed power plays that were his world, when he received the message. The vague words scrawled across the screen still felt burned into his mind: An unexpected death in IPC’s ranks. Don’t ask too many questions.
At first, he’d dismissed it as some cruel joke or an attempt to provoke him. But as whispers circulated, he’d felt an ache that reached far deeper than any professional ambition or loyalty to the IPC. His instincts screamed at him that something was wrong. His fingers shook when he finally demanded details from an IPC informant. They had tried to placate him with silence, then with excuses, before finally leading him to a private room where they produced a list of names lost in action. His eyes landed on yours.
His heart had shattered. And in that moment, the world he’d so carefully built around him crumbled. The IPC, his title, every ounce of the strategic power he wielded felt like a joke, a hollow nothing in the face of your loss. Days bled into weeks, then months as he clawed through records, files, and whispers, desperate to uncover anything that could prove this had been a mistake. Eventually, after countless sleepless nights and fading hope, he resigned himself to a cruel reality: you were gone.
In the present, Aventurine had all but lost himself in your kiss, his hands cradling your face as if afraid you might disappear again. But now that he’d found you, he couldn’t imagine letting you slip away. You’d barely finished promising him you weren’t going anywhere when he whispered urgently, “Come with me. I'll leave the IPC. We can start over, together.”
The idea hung in the air, and the look on your face said you wanted it as much as he did. The life you’d built in hiding had given you some solace, but nothing compared to the warmth that had returned the moment you’d locked eyes with him again.
“I want to, Aventurine,” you murmured, your voice soft with hope but tinged with caution. “But you know, you leaving IPC isn’t going to be that simple.”
He gave a wry smile, the familiar gleam of his gambler’s spirit returning to his gaze. “Since when have I ever played it safe?”
It was settled. Together, you and Aventurine began planning a final escape from IPC, the promise of a quiet, shared life filling every unspoken moment between you.
Weeks later, the two of you were ready. Aventurine had secured falsified documents, disguises, and even an old shuttle that he’d salvaged and reprogrammed to slip through IPC scanners. His heart thrummed with excitement as he held your hand, the two of you ducking into back alleys and secret passages within IPC’s labyrinthine halls, moving closer to the shuttle bay with each step.
But just as freedom felt within reach, a familiar voice stopped him cold.
“Aventurine,” called a smooth, calculating voice—a voice he knew well, belonging to his superior within IPC, one of the few who could see through his every bluff. “Going somewhere?”
A team of armed operatives closed in, blocking your escape route, and Aventurine felt his stomach sink as he saw the trap closing around you both.
“What’s this?” he asked smoothly, masking his fear with a cocky grin as he positioned himself protectively in front of you. “A farewell party?”
His superior raised a brow, her gaze shifting to you before returning to him. “Leaving isn’t an option for a Stoneheart. Surely you know that.”
He cast a glance over his shoulder, meeting your eyes, silently urging you to stay close, to trust him just one last time. “Then let me make it clear,” he replied, stepping forward, his voice steady. “I’m done with IPC. And if you want me, you’ll have to get through us both.”
In the ensuing chaos, you and Aventurine fought with everything you had, desperate for one last chance at freedom. But just as you were about to reach the shuttle, a shot rang out.
You stumbled, a look of shock crossing your face as blood bloomed from your side. Aventurine’s heart seized. “No,” he whispered, catching you as you collapsed into his arms. “No, no, please… we were almost there.”
Your eyes met his, filled with a quiet acceptance he couldn’t bear. “It’s okay, Aventurine,” you murmured, your hand weakly reaching to touch his face. “I’m just sorry… I couldn’t give you the life we dreamed of.”
Tears he’d fought so long to hide spilled over as he held you, pressing his forehead to yours. “No, no, please don’t… I can’t do this without you.” But even as he clung to you, your grip grew weaker, your breaths fainter.
When your hand slipped from his cheek, Aventurine was left cradling your lifeless form, his vision blurring as grief consumed him. He’d lost you once before, but nothing had prepared him for the agony of losing you again—for real this time.
In the end, IPC dragged him back, broken and hollow, the final remnant of his old life slipping through his fingers. He returned to the office and his title as a Stoneheart, each day haunted by the love he’d sacrificed to leave the IPC, each night dreaming of a life he’d never know.
And so Aventurine remained, a prisoner of the world he’d once called his own, but now bound by grief—a gambler who’d lost his most precious wager.
And once again we will dip into Kell’s past because I can’t write chronologically. This is how Kell got caught and eventually ended up with the General.
For Day 2 of @amonthofwhump 12 Days of Whumpmas: Self sacrifice
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CW: cursing, captivity, war, forced separation, chronic illness
“You can’t do this!” Sabea screamed at the top of her lungs. Her voice raw and shaking with rage. “Let him go you fucking asshole!”
She was desperately trying to get to Kell, but hands were holding her back. It was Njall, holding her wrist until he could wrap his arms around her middle. Kell could see his lips moving but he was too far away to hear what he was saying.
The Varsennan guard holding Kell, twisted his arm on his back. Pain shot through his shoulder. “Shut up or you are going to get arrested as well!” he hissed, looking in Sabea’s direction.
“You can’t take him to jail! He didn’t do anything wrong!” his twin sister screamed, still trying to get out of Njall’s grip. She was coughing. The sound so rough that a sharp pain cut through Kell’s chest. Her coughing kept getting worse, no matter what they tried, and it was nearly impossible to get any medicine in the middle of a war.
The guard twisted his arm another inch backwards until Kell hitched a breath. Pain shot through his shoulder. His heart raced inside his chest so fast, he couldn't distinguish one beat from another.
Kell wheezed and hunched over to ease the pain in his arm. “Sabea, please,” Kell said, breathless with pain. “Do what they say …”
The guard slammed him into the wall and pinned him there with one hand. For a moment his arm felt numb. Then it started to prickle. He didn’t even try to resist. He knew it was pointless. Cold metal was closing around his wrists. It felt heavier than it could be.
When he was turned around again, everything happened so fast, he couldn’t even react. Sabea elbowed Njall in the ribs. For a split second, he let go. Sabea ran and flung her arms around Kell. The impact was so strong that Kell fell to his knees. He pulled Sabea down with him on the ground, burying his face against her shoulder. She was shaking.
“Sabea … you have to get home. Mom needs you.”
“She needs you too!” Her warm hands tight around him. Her voice muffled against his ear. Her grip was tightening as the guards came closer.
But she wasn’t strong enough. Hands dragged her arms away from him. It took three of them to pull the twins away from each other.
“No!” Sabea screamed. She screamed obscenities and threats. She screamed every insult Kell knew and not knew.
Kell felt so cold now with her warm hands gone.
Someone pushed him hard on the ground. The weight of a boot was sitting heavily on his back. He could barely move while coldness crept into his body. The pavement was wet from a previous rain and Kell started to shiver.
Sabea’s agonizing screams were still echoing through the narrow street until he could hear a loud slap and her screams turned into sobs.
Kell looked up so fast, he nearly pulled a muscle. Panic climbed up his throat like boiling soup on a fire. Desperately he tried find his sister with his eyes. “Sabea!” his voice breaking with fear.
“Quiet!” the guard ordered, kicking Kell hard in his ribs, making him roll over in pain. “Both of you.”
When he saw Sabea he could finally breathe again. She was laying on her back, one hand pressed on her face, Njall protectively bend over her, negotiating with one of the Varsennan guards in a soft voice. Sabea was coughing, her chest lifting and falling in a rapid rhythm.
It was already dark and Kell could barely see her face in the dim lantern light. They hadn’t even taken their own lantern this night. It should have been just a short mission for the resistance. Only two letters.
Meanwhile other guards had arrived at the scene. Kell didn’t dare to move. He felt the letters, hidden under his clothes, burning on his skin. Sooner or later, they would find them.
In the bubble of voices Kell heard Tharlian words and again he looked up.
Behind Sabea and Njall, a crowd was forming. They probably came outside to see what the noise was about. Two old women stood close to each other. Kell knew them. They had once been their neighbours. Before the war. One of them had a hand clapped over her mouth, her eyes were big and anxious. The other took her arm, as if she wanted to comfort her. Or to hold her back. Kell wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. They couldn’t help him now anyway. He searched the crowd for familiar faces when one of the guards stopped right next to him. He wasn’t sure which one it was. The Varsennan guards looked all the same in their stupid uniforms.
The guard systematically searched his clothes. When she didn’t find anything, she hauled him up until he was lying on his knees.
“Where are they?” she shouted at him.
“I don’t understand,” Kell said, still talking in Tharlian.
He didn’t saw it coming. The guard slapped his face so hard, Kell lost his balance and toppled back to the ground. His cheek was burning and something warm dripped from his lip.
The guard grabbed his chin and lifted his face up to her. “I know you speak Varsennan,” she said dangerously calm. “Tell me where they are.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Kell said switching to Varsennan, blinking away the unwanted tears. His stomach twisted. How did she know he could speak Varsennan? What else did she know about him?
“Just tell them, Kell. They will find them anyway,” Sabea said tired. There was blood on her face now. Her eyes were glowing feverishly. The night had been too exhausting for her body.
Kell’s lips quivered, his mind racing. He wished he was stronger. He couldn’t look at anyone as he opened his mouth. “They are on the inside of my clothes,” he said, his voice barely audible.
The guard was smiling, triumph was radiating from her body like heat from a fire.
His skin was tingling in anticipation of what she might do next and when she put her hand on his shoulder, he flinched hard. But she was only patting him. “Well done,” she said. “I knew you were the smart one.”
It felt like the final defeat.
She let go and faced one of the other guards. “Take him away,” she murmured under her breath. “We don’t need another scene in the middle of this quarter.”
Kell looked up. The crowd had doubled in the last few minutes and some of them looked quite ready to interfere. Most of them must know who he was. They all had known his late father. Everyone in this city knew his family. Especially since the Varsennan had conquered their country.
The guard helped Kell on his feet, ready to lead him away.
“Please!” One of the older women had made a step towards them, putting her hands together like for praying. “He is just a child.” Her Varsennan had a heavy accent.
The guard snorted. “He is 19 years old,” she said coolly. “He is barely a child anymore.”
That was the second when Kell panicked. His stomach fell and dragged every ounce of energy left in him with it. His mouth tried to form words, but he didn’t have enough breath to transform them into words.
They knew who he was. This was not a coincidence. Kell started to tremble.
“What about the other two?” the guard asked.
The other guard followed her gaze, thinking it over. Kell’s heart raced so fast he couldn't distinguish one beat from another. Leave them alone. Please leave them alone.
“This time they may leave,” the guard said. Kell could feel her iron grip closing around his arm again. Relief almost knocked him off his feet. At least they were safe.
“No!” Sabea’s scream was muffled as Njall pressed one hand over her mouth, his eyes never leaving Kell. A lump lodged in his throat and then the tears started to flow. He knew he would probably never see him again.
Desperately he locked his eyes on his sister. He knew none of the Varsennan guards spoke Tharlian. “Sabea. Please tell mom you must leave the city. It isn’t safe anymore.” His voice quavering and high-pitched. “I don’t think I …”
The guard punched him in his stomach. “Be. Quiet,” she hissed. It pushed the air out of his lungs and until he was gasping like a fish out of water. He collided with the damp ground once again. There was no way to slow his fall with his hands bound together. The world seemed to rotate around him, and his knee started to burn.
“Tell them whatever they want to know,” Sabea said, locking eyes with him, her voice as soft as a farewell, tears freely running down her face. He couldn’t remember when he had seen her cry the last time. “It’s okay. I promise. Just …” Her voice was thick with fear and sorrow. “Just stay safe, okay?”
Kell swallowed hard. He tried not to think about all the things expecting him in prison. The air was getting tight in his lungs. He had never gone anywhere without Sabea.
Please don’t leave me alone.
He wanted to say something but there were no words.
I can’t do this without you.
He wished they had never joined that stupid resistance. He wished they had stayed home. Home with his family, telling his baby brother fairy tales, singing ballads to his mom. Home where he belonged.
Sabea was still lying on the ground, curled up in a ball and entangled in Njall’s limbs, looking at him with a haunted look, all the fight had left her body.
Don’t give me up.
Njall was crying now too. He had always been Kell’s best friend since they were toddlers. They were lucky he had been with them tonight. He couldn’t imagine what would have happened otherwise.
Thank you for keeping her safe.
He finally had to turn his eyes away from her, as they dragged him away.
Panic throbbed through his body with every heartbeat. He wasn’t sure whether it would ever go away. He tried to take deep breaths. Sabea had always been the leader, the fighter, the strong one. But then again Kell had always been the mind, the socializer, the voice. Maybe he could use them as a weapon. As a way to protect himself from shattering into pieces. Maybe he could make it long enough to escape. He had to. He had to find his way back to Sabea. No matter what.
I will come back to you.
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Tag List: @whumpzone @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @whump-cravings @tears-and-lilies
Tags / Warnings:
Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - 1940s, A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Bucky Barnes, Alpha Clint Barton, Omega Natasha Romanov, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Light Verbal Abuse, Classism, Forced Separation, Reuniting, Inspired by the Great Gastby, Inspired by the Notebook, Inspired by Dirty Dancing, Period-Typical Sexism, but to the secondary gender, Secret Relationship, World War II, Alternate Universe - World War II, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Artist Steve Rogers, Waiter Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Rich Bucky Barnes, Flirty Bucky Barnes, (See AO3 for more...)
Summary
Sarah Rogers II is Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers' daughter. She is selling her childhood home, but she won't just sell to anyone.
Daisy Johnson is looking for a place to live and comes across the listing for a Saltbox house near the beach in California on a bulletin board. She knocks on the door and Sarah answers.
Sarah decides to tell Daisy the story of the house. She tells Daisy of the couple who built it and everything they went through.
~~*~~
"It was the last week of October, 1941. The Second World War was raging on in Europe but America was still trying to stay out of it. My Alpha Father, Steve, worked for the St. Louis Golfing Club..."
And the funniest thing about all this? The people whose children are being taken from them are not breaking any law. They are not trying to sneak across the border. They are coming to entry points and ASKING FOR ASYLUM. Which is perfectly legal.
So news that Migrant Families are being separated at the border has been spreading for the last few weeks as many of us read about it in horror. Perhaps, like me, you read it with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. What can we DO about this?
We can register to vote.
We can contact our representatives and tell them to support
S.2468: Fair Day in Court for Kids Act of 2018;
S. 2937: HELP Separated Children Act
Keep Families Together Act
We can Donate:
Raices bond fund works to pay the immigration bonds of parents separated from their children at the border.
Leaf project provides universal representation for children who come to our borders
Catholic charities RGV provides humanitarian relief to immigrants crossing the border.
Pueblo Sin Fronteras provides humanitarian aid to migrants and refugees.
The Texas Civil Rights Project has recently filed an emergency request to end the practice of separation and reunite families.
We can March -
Groups are gathering around the country to protest. Plug in your zip code at familiesbelong.org and find one.
We are not helpless. We don’t have to stand on the sidelines. We can stop this terrible practice!!! Please, if you know of other ways to help, add them!
