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terapsina · 5 months

Note

Kathryn Janeway/Chakotay. Post-Voyager, return home. (If you’ve seen Prodigy pre-Prodigy before Chakotay receives his commission as Captain. If you’re up to it, lightly touching on the Chakotay and Seven of it all? Seven might have left for the Rangers at this point. It’s alright if that’s too much of a prompt!)

(okay, this will take place closer to Post-Voyager era than Pre-Prodigy era but does take place inside that frame of time. Also, I couldn't find any specific dates about when exactly Seven joined the Rangers so let's just assume here that it happened pretty soon after they returned home (for various reasons but mostly because I think Seven would have grown restless pretty quickly and also because I just can't imagine she and Chakotay lasted very long at all)).

ao3

Chakotay and Kathryn were fine.

Completely fine. In comparison to the seven years aboard Voyager where they stayed at the constant edge of destruction, with the threat of losing all the souls aboard the ship that they were responsible for constantly biting at their heels, they were more than fine now.

They met for weekly dinners. They no longer argued because of the stress of their positions; because all they'd sacrificed of themselves had hollowed them out into a Captain and a First Officer and very little else. The frost that had grown in the cracks of their friendship had thawed during this past year home. They were sharing jokes again and enjoyed perfectly pleasant conversations in each other's company.

They discussed how their weeks had gone; and how Kathryn and him were adjusting to being home again. They talked about their sisters and shared whatever news they'd heard from the crew lately. Talked about the latest antics of Kathryn's two dogs - both the grand-pups of the Irish Setter she'd left behind on Earth when she'd been ordered to capture Chakotay an eternity ago. Mollie herself had lived only two months past the Voyager's return, Chakotay's heart still twinged remembering the way Kathryn had tried to keep up a strong face when she'd told him about the dog's passing.

They were fine. Really, they were better than they'd been in a really long time now.

Chakotay should have been happy about it, - and admittedly there was the relief that he hadn't lost Kathryn entirely. Their return to the Alpha Quadrant had given him his best friend back and...

...and Chakotay was miserable.

"You remember I told you how the voice reader for the replicator broke last week and I had to put it on manual? Well, Faba figured out this morning how to make the cursed thing spit out the last meal programmed in there, when I got home from Starfleet Command the entire kitchen floor was covered in dog food. You can't imagine the guilty looks on her and Capulus when they saw me." Kathryn's eyes danced with amusement as she took a sip of wine from her glass.

Chakotay's own lips pulled up at the corners, the initial moment entirely genuine because when Kathryn Janeway smiled the entire room brightened.

But the smile fell away a moment too quickly and ever observant, Kathryn noticed. "I'm sorry, Chakotay, I'm hogging the conversation this evening. You seem to have something on your mind?"

"No," he said, forcing forward another smile, hoping this one would better disguise his melancholy mood. "It's simply been a long week, I'm just tired, I think."

He saw Kathryn's eyes go to the timepiece hanging on the wall behind him and cursed himself for the chosen excuse. He didn't intend to make her think he was too tired for her company.

"It is getting late, I suppose I'll see you next week. Same time? Or do you have plans?" At the beginning of their post-return dinners, Chakotay had tried to read some kind of tightness in Kathryn's voice when she asked about his plans. Selfishly hoping for a sign that their implied existence might bother her, that there still existed traces of the feelings that years ago he'd been certain were there. But there was never anything except polite curiosity.

He was starting to suspect that whatever potential had been there had been destroyed by his stupidity and the very badly timed mid-life crisis that had tripped him just before the finish line.

"No plans," he told her and did his very best not to inquire after her own. He knew his question would be full of the unvoiced things lacking in hers.

"Speaking of, have you heard from Seven recently? She's been hard to get a hold of since she joined the Fenris Rangers."

"No," he said, avoiding Kathryn's eyes as he always did whenever she mentioned Seven of Nine now. He wished she'd stop. Or that she'd finally address the splinter he'd seen her ignoring for eleven months now. When Chakotay had told her that he and Seven had parted ways barely weeks after landing on Earth, she'd inquired if he was okay and revealed not a hint of emotion more. Not anger. Not relief. Not disappointment. Nothing. He might as well have been Harry Kim telling her how he'd broken up with one of the Delaney twins again. "But B'Elanna mentioned receiving a subspace message from her a few weeks ago so I wouldn't send out any alarms yet."

"Good." Kathryn smiled again, swallowing another deeper mouthful of the wine Chakotay had brought over earlier, and finishing the glass.

She wasn't as careful as usual though - being out of uniform and off the deck of the Voyager had made her freer in a number of tiny ways - and his eyes trailed a tiny spill of red as it escaped the corner of Kathryn's mouth and slid over her chin before gliding slowly down her neck.

Heat sliced clean through his lower stomach as he hastily averted his eyes, this time to hide the hunger that had no doubt visibly flashed across his face. Chakotay sent a silent thank you to the spirits of his ancestors for her eyes having remained closed while she enjoyed the last sip.

Maybe he really should start getting ready to leave.

Candlelight, wine, and Kathryn were not a combination that inspired all that much sanity in Chakotay. He'd thought he'd developed at least a partial immunity in the later years of their journey, as that brightly burning hope he'd cradled in his heart had eventually begun to be smothered by the innumerable trials and tribulations; by the thousand small cuts and steadily growing walls.

Of course, he'd pretty much found out exactly how wrong he was on that point the first time he'd seen her after the former members of the Maquis had received their official pardons from the Federation. When the entire crew had shown up to celebrate and he'd looked across the ballroom someone - probably Paris - had reserved for the event, when for the first time in years had seen Kathryn instead of Captain Janeway.

She'd been wearing a dark red dress that had hugged her front nearly like a second skin and let only air touch half her back. The dress had been tasteful and elegant of course, as anything Kathryn wore always was but Chakotay had known he was fucked the moment his eyes had landed on her. The feeling was yet to leave.

"Next week, then." He confirmed.

"Goodnight, Chakotay," Kathryn said and walked around the dinner table to give him a brief hug and a kiss on his cheek. His eyes slid closed at the singing sensation of her lips against his skin.

Right, that. If ever someone tried to convince him this woman didn't have a cruel bone in her body he might just have to point and laugh. Hysterically.

He opened his mouth to return the goodnight when something that had been steadily straining and stretching for months and months finally snapped.

"Are you ever going to forgive me, Kathryn?" he asked, exhaustion heavy in his voice and eyes still closed. He wasn't sure he could bear seeing her face if he was really starting this conversation.

"What?"

"I promised something to you once, and broke it just before it would have finally been time to fulfill it."

"You never promised me anything." And finally, he heard the tightness in Kathryn's voice he'd been looking for.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, letting her see all the things he'd shielded from her in the Delta Quadrant when showing them would have left his Captain bleeding.

"I did and you know I did, Kathryn. Never aloud because it would have hurt you to hear it. But we both knew."

And finally, finally, anger flashed like lightning in Kathryn's eyes.

"Why did it have to be Seven, Chakotay?"

"I don't know." And he didn't know. He'd asked himself that question a hundred times and never found a good answer. Not one that put him in any kind of good light anyway.

Male ego. Because a part of him had known that it would be the one way he'd actually be able to hurt Kathryn the way she'd been hurting him for years by then. Because he thought he couldn't hurt Kathryn at all and had to finally prove it to himself somehow. Because Seven had shown interest, and he'd been so very tired, and it could have been anyone at all. Because he'd been losing hope.

He didn't know.

"We were supposed to return to Earth together. You were supposed to be right beside me. It was supposed to--"

"I know. I'm sorry, Kathryn," Chakotay whispered and dared to wipe an angry tear from her face.

"And it's not like I had any right to feel--"

He smiled thinly. "And when I found you on Quarra I had no right to want to cave in Jaffen's face. Or that Irish hologram's. Or Q's."

And oh, how Chakotay had wanted to.

"I--" she looked startled like she hadn't suspected any of that. There was something nearly impressive about that, the crew certainly seemed to have steered clear of Chakotay for a solid week after every event where their captain had gotten courted by one alien or another.

Well, steered clear by everyone except Paris and Tuvok. And B'Elanna. But Paris had long since proven himself to be just a bit suicidal to a degree that had eventually earned him Chakotay's respect. And Tuvok was... well, Tuvok.

And B'Elanna just didn't count.

"I had no right. You had no right. But it hurt me, and then I hurt you. And I need to know if you're going to forgive me. Because it still hurts, Kathryn." He cupped the side of her face, barely letting his fingers graze her skin. "You're my best friend. And my partner for eight years now. And you're always going to be the love of my life. I will accept whatever answer you give me, even if you tell me that there's a part of you that's going to hate me forever. But please, Kathryn, I need to know."

Finished, Chakotay fell silent.

Kathryn stared at him with angry, anguished eyes. Then she closed them and Chakotay had to force himself not to shudder.

He could take whatever blow she threw. He'd survive it. Not entirely whole, maybe, but he would survive.

"There is an ancient legend among my people," she said, nearly entirely under her breath but Chakotay still felt the universe come to a stop; could feel the Earth itself halt in its spin. "It is about a Lonely Sea Captain who had lost her way in a storm, and to bring her people home she made a deal with the gods. She locked her heart in a wooden chest and promised them she would not open it until they reached shore. But there was a Brave Warrior aboard her ship too, who worried that without any heart at all the Lonely Sea Captain would be lost - and he was right, she would have been - so he gave her his heart to carry while her own was locked away. She wasn't always kind to that gifted heart, wasn't always careful with it, - and sometimes, sometimes she was afraid she'd lost it - but it gave her strength, and it gave her hope, and it brought her home."

"Is there really an ancient legend?" he whispered, barely daring to breathe. Caught in her gaze like a fly in a spider-silk web.

"No." Another tear began to slide down Kathryn's cheek. "But that made it easier to say."

Chakotay leaned forward and kissed that precious pearl of salt from her cheek.

"The Captain never lost her Warrior's heart," he assured her softly and waited patiently with his lips pressed into her cheek until she moved her head and kissed him.

---

(fun fact: Capulus is Latin for Coffee and Faba is Latin for Bean).

#janeway x chakotay #chakotay x janeway #kathryn janeway #chakotay #star trek #voyager #voyager fic #star trek fic #fanfic #otp: the captain and the warrior #isagrimorie #prompts

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cicaklah · 3 months

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HAPPY THRESHOLD DAY!!!

fandom: threshold day

pairing: janeway/paris

rating: non-explicit (lizard) baby making & weird vibes

summary:

He’s the only being in history to have occupied every space simultaneously in the entire universe twice, and everyone is fixating on that he fell for the one person who knows what that feels like? Surely the gods fall for each other all the time. It can’t be that strange, if you think about it for a fucking minute.

tagged: Episode: s02e15 Threshold (Star Trek: Voyager), happy threshold day, Grief/Mourning, godhood, she's a little bit eldritch and he's a little bit fucked up, what if we were the only humans to ascend to godhood but also we were in starfleet?, a weird story but in a nice way, forgetting and remembering, Graffiti, the truth will be written on the toilet wall

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ya girl can't help herself. have a weird story about the only two people to go to warp 10 fucking about it. also there's some stupid lower decks people in there, which is basically my signature at this point.

#star trek #star trek voyager #threshold day #voyager fic #janeway/paris #13 year old me nods sagely at me writing voyager fic #she knew this day was going to come

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fiadorable · 7 months

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an ending unforseen - a snw/voyager crossover fic

🦾 Trektober 2023 Day Four - Other Trek Crossover

📖 As the cadet cruiser explodes around him, Fleet Captain Christopher Pike is transported 120 years into the future and yanked 70,000 lightyears away from the Alpha Quadrant, landing on a strange Federation ship stranded in the Delta Quadrant. Now it's up to the Voyager crew to send the wayward fleet captain back through time (and hopefully space) to preserve the timeline. In the meantime, Chris is fine. Just fine. Just chopping up some leola root in the mess hall and sharing a cup of joe with Captain Janeway in the wee hours of the night. Like you do when you're waiting to be sent back in time to relive a moment that's been haunting you for the last decade.

🤝 Christopher Pike & Kathryn Janeway

💜 Many thanks to @caladeniablue for the beta and encouragement

🎬 Rated L for leola root, C for coffee, and M for melancholy

📏 1656 words

🏷️ Leola Root,Coffee,Weird Purple Goo,Voyager Starter Pack,Cooking,Melancholy,Boyscout Flavored Recklessness,Strange New Worlds Starter Pack,Trek Crossover,Episode: s01 e01 Strange New Worlds,Episode: s01e10 A Quality of Mercy (Star Trek: Strange New Worlds),Angst

🟣 Read it on AO3 🟣

#star trek strange new worlds #star trek voyager #christopher pike #kathryn janeway #snw fic #voyager fic #fiadorable writes #ok voyager fandom please be kind (hides)#trektober 2023 #trektober2023 day four

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quecksilvereyes · 2 years

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sometimes i think about narnia and i vibrate out of my skin like...

you walk into a world you cannot understand, frozen and dying, and it is you who thaws it. you who kills the witch, you who breaks the stone table, you who slays the wolf. it is you who is crowned and it is you who wails for two worlds when the wardrobe doors shut behind you.

your skin never sits quite right and your teeth are too dull. there are wars in your bones and decades in your eyes before you can reach the telephone on the wall.

you are king. you are queen. they won't let you read the newspapers at breakfast.

it calls you back from beyond a train and from within paint. begs with bloody palms and salt-crusted cheeks. takes from you all that you can give - and sends you back.

you watch your sister fade.

you are a child twice and an adult once. and when you stand in your home again, with crushed bones and the smell of coal still in your nose, you watch them sneer at your sister.

your sister is the sun above you. she is, beautiful and stone-cast, alive in a world you could never stomach. she smiles, still, and stretches her skin over human bones.

she is no longer a friend of narnia. do you tell them it is her who has to bury you all and the stars that are falling from the skies in shards?

#narnia #narnia fanfiction #narnia fic #the problem of susan #susan pevensie #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #the kings and queens of old #the golden age #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #prince caspian #the voyage of the dawn treader #the last battle

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keeperofthebox · 9 months

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chapter 5 of bon voyage is now available on AO3 <3

this time: a heartfelt gift! a party! an imposter among us! suspicion, suspicion, and - you guessed it - more suspicion! a lucky charm! a monastery in the mountains! and an itty bitty catharsis!!!!

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #love square #adrienette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #keeperofthebox art #FINALLY after getting home from NYC and editing the chapter retroactively i had some time to draw for real #bon voyage #keeperofthebox fic

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leohtttbriar · 15 days

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this episode starts from the point of view of the automated unit and then we see b'elanna's face her careful attention and then the voices of security and discovery appear over her shoulders and she makes her argument. and it's all from the explicit point of view of the automated unit. like the viewer is the object of interest--and it's ominous because the characters don't know they're being watched but it's also like, the robot is helpless, no matter what happens next. and we get to watch b'elanna's curiosity reach out from that point of view. as the helpless unit.

#star trek #b'elanna torres #voyager #okay im going to go finish my fic now #promise

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milf-horta · 5 months

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do you guys think that buster kincaid/captain proton was the spirk of the star trek universe. were the 1930s housewives writing procaid porn for zines and creating fandom culture

#voy #tos #captain proton #i mean how the fuck do i tag this #i know one thing for sure and that's that tom paris spent his teen years reading procaid fic #yes ive just decided that's their ship name #star trek #star trek voyager #tom paris #harry kim

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cyberball · 8 months

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cair paraval

caspian x reader / no pronouns used / not rq

warnings: a couple swears, physical touch (as in not 18+ but still), mention of the word 'dress' but you can interpret that as any type of dress really

summary: you decide to reminisce on a select few memories of the beach at cair paraval in your room, one morning.

genre: yes it is fluffy but there's some slow burn/yearning thing going on, allusion to a modern!au in narnia, although u can assume it’s the same

notes: cyberball comeback! *crickets* anyway this is my highest word count thus far. ben barnes is actually fatal cuz now I'm obsessed with a character from my CHILDHOOD who I completely forgot even existed. alas, here we are, because caspian is a very very close second to Leo valdez, and I'm head over heels for that man. all this is to say, this will probably not be the last caspian fic and who knows, maybe I'll figure sth out for peter n ed as well!!! anyway enjoy i hope u like it

11:03 | 2896 words

11:45 AM

The spring breeze brushes against your face, and your eyes close in appreciation. From your balcony, the beach of Cair Paraval looks stunning; clear blue waters and a high tide to match. You let your thoughts linger on all the nights you’ve spent on said beach with a certain king of Narnia. You almost get up to try to find him, but you sit back down, realizing he must be busy. Your memories will have to sustain you for now.

4:23 AM – 1 month ago

Caspian’s hand came up to brush his hair out of his face for what seemed like the hundredth time that night – the sea breeze was relentless. You silently laughed at his efforts, as he leaned back into you, having given up on trying to tame his hair. His tall frame had somehow managed to sit snugly in between your legs, Caspian’s head resting on your chest. You were leaning against an enormous oak tree, the leaves swaying in tandem with the wind.

“Get up, you big goof,” you said, rolling your nightshirt’s sleeves up, determined to help him with his hair. He looked back at you for just a second before obeying your command. You loved his hair either way but you could tell it was annoying him right about now.

“What, you don’t like the unruly look my hair has taken on?” He asked, sitting up properly. You shook your head in amusement and looked away under his glance, pretending to look around for the clip you always kept on you, in case a predicament like this arose.

You gathered a little of his hair and tied it in place with the clip, letting a few pieces in the front fall out. The half-up-half-down look was his and your favorite.

He rested his head back onto your shoulder, looking ahead, the two of you still sitting. You had a ritual wherein you took one night each week to watch the sunrise. Now, even as the sun slowly woke up, the Narnian night sky glittered with tens of stars, and you wished you could look into his eyes. The black always reflected the light perfectly.

You two had been dating for about 2 weeks now. Caspian was your best friend and the person you trusted the most. Back when all you could think of on nights like these was your imagination of what it would feel like to have his lips against yours, looking into his eyes was a gesture far too intimate for two friends to share.

But now that it was a reality, you moved him off your shoulder and moved forward, so now you were facing him. On instinct, he picked you up by your thighs and placed you on his lap. Giggling, you took his stubble-covered face in your hands. After staring into your eyes for a length of time most people would find uncomfortable, he looked up at the sky. And there it was; the sky condensed into his eyes. He looked back up at you, and you couldn’t help but kiss him. You wondered how you ever lived without knowing the taste of his lips.

5:09 PM – 3 months ago

The sun filtered through your hair as you managed to push through it. It was setting, and the horizon looked particularly capturing today; pink and orange clouds shielding its light. Speaking of the sun, unbeknownst to you, yours had come up behind the spot you had claimed on the sand. Placing a kiss on your head – and consequently making butterflies fly around in your stomach – Caspian took the place next to you, as he often did.

More often, he’d only made rare appearances in your solitude, as the mantle of being king had taken its toll on his free time. You had found yourself reminiscing on the time when every other free second you both had, you would spend with each other. You would train together as well, and while that hadn’t necessarily stopped, he had significantly less time to do so. So you missed it, and you missed the close contact, where you could pass off the hitched breaths and stuttering glances as something other than what they were.

Caspian was your best friend. Nothing more, although you found yourself coveting the same. You don’t quite remember when it changed; when the way you looked at him turned from friendly appreciation to lingering on his smile. You felt that maybe he felt the same when he’d make you laugh and then drink in your reaction; when you showed him a new dress and his gaze lingered on you for far more time than was needed to look at the dress; when, a few days ago, you were playing with his hair, as you often did, and he unabashedly stared at your lips; and even now, when he kissed your head and instinctually rested his hand on yours. His thumb caressed your palm, and you had to physically restrain yourself from melting onto the beach.

At least then you could be washed away with the sea. You could feel his gaze on you. “What, idiot?” You asked him, not turning to look at him, a playful smile playing on your lips. “That’s no way to address your king,” he replied smoothly with a smirk of his own. You wanted to wipe it right off his stupid, pretty face.

As happy as you were with his presence next to you, you didn’t forget how your getaways to the beach were much frequent just you now instead of you both. “Sorry, Your Majesty,” you muttered sarcastically. You winced as his face fell at your tone, immediately regretting your words, knowing how he literally had no time for anything other than his duties. You couldn’t be mad at him for that. He beat you to the apology, “I am sorry. I know I have seen you less and less these past few weeks, and it’s not an excuse, merely a reason, but my work as king has taken up most if not all my time. Regardless, I could have made time for you. Aslan knows you’re much more important to me than anything else,” he spoke the last words under his breath, but you caught them.

You both had talked about this before – how much you meant to each other – but every time he brought it up, your heart beat just a little bit faster. “Cas, don’t be sorry. I know you’re busy and it’s selfish of me to be mad at you for that. I’m sorry,” you replied, looking away. “You’re not being selfish. You’re the least selfish person I know. You’ve done nothing wrong here,” he said softly, pushing your hair behind your ears. A hue of red dusted your cheeks at the gesture and you smiled up at him, “It’s okay, Cas,” you assured him and noticed his eyes crinkling at the nickname, “Just promise to meet me whenever you can,” you said, playing with his fingers. “Yes, I know, I will use all my free time on you. You don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, a glint in his eyes. You laughed amusedly, “You’re a good king, you know,” and he searched your eyes for any sign of a lie. He didn’t find it, even behind your teasing tone. “Just because I dedicated my free time to you?” he questioned and you pretended to think, “Hmm… yes.” Laughing

, you rested your head on his shoulder. You were happy to have him, even if your affections could only be as intimate as best friends.

2:58 AM – 2 months ago

You had just made a particularly hilarious joke, and Caspian had been laughing about it for what seemed like ages. “My god, calm down,” you managed to say through your own laughter, and he silently brought his forehead down to your shoulder, his own shoulders shaking from laughter.

After finally calming down, he said, “Never do that again,” a smile still brilliant on his face, despite the dim moonlight filtering through the clouds. “What, never make you laugh again?” you grinned, sucking your teeth, “sounds like a challenge to me. I’m too funny,” you joked, running your hand through your hair. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Caspian roll his eyes at you, and you wordlessly shoved him for it.

“That cloud looks like your hair in the morning,” you pointed out, gesturing to a cloud by the sea line. Caspian looked at you with an unamused face, “Ha-ha. Very funny,” he replied deadpan, but a grin eventually broke out on his face.

A long, comfortable silence stretched out between the two of you. You carefully rested your head on his shoulder and tried to take this for what it was: two friends enjoying each other’s company, and not letting your thoughts wander to a hope where maybe, someday, you could be more than that. Because it could never be. Caspian did a great job of reminding you of the fact when he piped up, “Today was sort of terrible,” and in response, you looked up at him through your lashes, beckoning him to continue. “The court is back at it with the marriage proposals and potential alliances,” he explained, and your heart dropped.

Oh. “Any of the potential matches interest you?” you questioned, silently hoping the answer was no. Regardless, you braced yourself for the impact, but he replied, very softly, might one add, “No,” and ran a hand through his hair. “Really?” you asked in an unamused tone, “none of them?” you were a tad bit eager to know his true feelings. So he pointed it out, “Desperate, are we? Why do you want to see me married off so quickly?” he asked, a smirk playing on his annoyingly pretty face. There was a sort of desperation in his eyes that you didn’t quite catch, however.

“Of course not, Your Highness,” you teased, “Curse me for wanting to see my king happy,” and rolled your eyes. “And anyway, it’s quite the opposite,” you muttered under your breath, sure that he wouldn’t hear it, but he did.

Fuck. He understood what you meant by it as well; he always did, and now he looked at you with something newfound in his eyes. Shit.

Silence. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“That is the last thing that would make me happy,” he finally spoke, and you silently sent up a prayer to whichever god let him ignore whatever you had said.

“And what would?” you asked, a teasing tone in your voice, but you both knew you genuinely wanted to know. Were you a possibility?

He didn’t reply. You chuckled softly and slightly shoved him, “What? I asked you something,” you said, still giggling. Your laughter had brought a smile to his face and you wanted to evaporate.

He took one of your hands and started absentmindedly playing with your fingers, as he often did. “I just… it’s a little funny to me how many times I’ve asked you that same question and you’ve not responded,” he confessed, black eyes staring you down, and then moving away when you hesitated in responding. “We tell each other everything,” a pause, “Right?” he asked, and hundreds of unsaid feelings poured into the small gap between you two, which he was slowly but surely closing. All the while his hands were still on yours, and you wondered if this was it. The day you finally get to call him yours, or the day you part ways.

“Caspian…” was all you managed, a little choked. Had his face always been so close to yours? You swore you could feel the beat of his eyelashes on your face, which was no doubt painted deep red right about now. It didn’t matter, because so was his.

You never knew eyes could speak like this – albeit, Caspian’s had always been able to, but never to this degree – begging, desperation, and hope, all in just two pupils. You literally were choked now; words had left you. You always told him, in matters of romance, you would never be able to make the first move. He had always laughed at that, the irony of you being such a bold and fearless person, yet being afraid of showing vulnerability like this. Although he himself could never chide you about that; both of you knew his stubbornness, especially in affairs of the heart.

He was not a daft man. A little oblivious, sure, but he knew the way you looked at him. You hadn’t tried to hide it either; in some masochistic way, even though you had your doubts about his feelings, you still wore yours on your face. You regretted it sometimes, when if he ended up listening to his court one day, then you would feel like a fool for putting your heart out on the line.

But so had he. Later on, you would realize that you were much more oblivious than him. He had half the decency to never completely assume that you were interested in him romantically, but he knew you. And you knew him.

So it made sense now to you. His lingering glances, especially those on your lips; the forehead kisses, which he had started a long time ago before you thought of him this way – however, they had grown much more frequent and much less chaste; and, oh. The words he said to you just a couple of days ago, lounging in his bed, your head in his lap, when you had joked about him being in love with you, “I’m not going to deny it.” You knew when he was joking. This was not such an instance, even though, immediately after, he tried to play it off as such. You knew it. Why hadn’t you said something?

Your name fell from his lips now, once more, a silent plea.

His lips ghosted over yours once more. You closed your eyes briefly, as you did when in a predicament, and exhaled hard.

Caspian sent up a prayer to whichever god would take it and made to connect your lips. You met him halfway.

You remember the first kiss like the back of your hand. You just about whimpered when his taste reached your tongue; the taste of the chocolate you both had snuck just a few minutes earlier was fresh on his lips. His rather large hands steadied you by your waist, and you still felt like crumbling by his touch.

A few seconds later, you pulled away reluctantly, out of breath. His eyes slowly fluttered open and his face was redder than you had ever seen it. You grinned and pecked his lips once more, and he felt your smile on him. It wasn’t a feeling he thought he’d ever experience.

Giddy, he mirrored your smile and kissed you harder than the last time.

“I knew you had a thing for me,” you said, right after he pulled away, breathless and smiling. “I’m not going to deny it,” he gloated, and you rested your forehead on his shoulder, laughing.

You were going to deal with the court some other day. It was just you and him right now.

11:56 AM – Present time

“Enjoying the weather, my love?” Caspian’s voice sounds out as his arms wrap around your torso. You slightly crane your head to look at him, shamelessly staring at his frame; simple white button-up, black pants. A rather handsome look on him.

“Your pick-up lines have always been terrible,” you remark, turning your head back around, a smirk on your face.

“And yet you were just checking me out,” he shoots back, resting his chin on the top of your head. You roll your eyes in response. “Checkmate?” he teases.

“Whatever. You can hardly blame me when you look this good,” you respond smoothly, turning around to face him while raising a hand to play with the ends of his hair.

“Have you seen yourself?” he says comfortably. His hands are resting easy on your hips and his gaze is on you, focused like you hung the stars in the sky. He always looks at you like this.

You shake your head, silently laughing, and crane your head to look out at the waters. It’s true that no one loves the sea quite like Caspian does, but that’s the very reason you appreciate it. His eyes light up when he talks of his adventures and voyages. Interestingly enough, there have only been two instances when the joie de vivre shines in his eyes; once when he thinks of the sea, and twice when he thinks of you. You’ve noticed it. The thought gets you giddy each time.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you. He places a kiss on your head and leans down to kiss your lips. Every time he does, it feels like the first time. Your eyes flutter close, and you notice something more in the way his lips move against yours. A message.

And then you realize.

Three words.

He pulls away, exhaling softly. A pause.

“I love you,” he says, your name on his lips like it always belonged there.

You waste no time. “I love you too, Caspian,” and he grins.

You mean it. And Aslan knows he means it too.

tagging: @noorie101 @padfootagain (one of my fav cas writers <3) — if u wanna be tagged please send in an ask!

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tea-earl-grey · 6 months

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i had an itching for comfort media so i went back to watch some s1 voyager episodes and s1 is soooo much better than i remembered. the later seasons appeal to my tastes a bit more but all the characters in s1 are so earnest and hopeful even when they butt heads and disagree and i'm just sitting here like "oh god they don't know what the next 7 years have in store..." i doubt it was that purposeful on the writers' part but it's so compelling how all of the characters have pretty open insecurities and are clearly people with lives and dreams beyond Voyager and bit by bit that's chipped away in later seasons. yes everyone becomes more confident and competent but is that really who they are or are they just losing themselves along the journey? (unfortunately the Doyalist explanation is just that the writers stopped putting focus on like. half of the main cast but shh i'm here for Watsonian analysis.)

like it's particularly noticeable with Janeway. she's definitely always been written as a strong leader but i forgot how much in early seasons we get to see her insecurities and vulnerabilities, how different she acts from when she's acting as captain to when she's alone, how often she questions her morality and whether she has the right to make decisions for her crew (and how often others questioned that right). then in the later seasons (around s3 and definitely by s4), she almost never questions her moral decisions, she rarely shows doubt, she plans heists on Borg cubes without a second thought, she dispenses her justice to the Equinox crew without really considering their position, she regulates others' autonomy (especially with Seven and the Doctor) without seeming to realize how easily that can go wrong. and don't get me wrong i love this development and think it's incredibly realistic for Janeway to deeply internalize her role and authority as a Captain and for it to permanently change her sense of self. Endgame is the perfect closure for Janeway's character because her future self exerts that same authority that she's been practicing over herself (also Janeway gets to live out her martyr complex one last time). i just wish the show was a little bit more self-aware that it was writing Janeway (and other characters) like this because there could be so many more interesting character conflicts.

anyways rewatching early ds9 made me say "aww these characters don't know that one day they'll all grow together and basically become family" and rewatching early voyager has me saying "uhohhhh these characters don't know the unhealthy relationships and neuroses they're going to uncover and develop". toxic found family for the win.

#forever obsessing over characters who change for the worst because of their duty and aren't even aware of how Changed they are #i started writing a fic about Janeway reuniting with her family post-Voyager and them being disturbed at how different she is and hmm #might need to get back to that one #anyways i maintain that sisko is the best written captain in star trek but i think janeway might be my favorite #alas it was inevitable...#also surprise surprise voyager is yet another show i'm enjoying so much more on rewatch #the first time through s1 to s3 took me like a year to watch through. now i've watched half of s1 in two days #voyager #kathryn janeway #my posts

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keeperofthebox · 10 months

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