17 Works by Capriccio
Listing Works
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Bucky’s face is set in a frown as his hands run over Steve’s body, checking for injuries. Steve feels his heartbeat kicking up. Maybe he’s swallowed too much water or taken too many blows to the head, but he wants to keep Bucky’s hands on him more than he can think.
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With or Without Wings by Capriccio
Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
30 Oct 2016
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They pulled up to the store on the outskirts of town, the painted letters out front already faded and peeling from the sun. Steve was hanging back and eyeing the storefront warily, but Sam grabbed him and marched them right in. A bell tinkled as they walked in, and the sleepy-eyed man at the counter looked up at them briefly to say in a thin, papery voice, “Happy Halloween!” before turning back to his newspaper.
(Sam ends up wearing a penguin costume. He’s not entirely happy about this. Steve may or may not be.)
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Ain’t No Sunshine by Capriccio for significantowl
Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
01 Feb 2016
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“Thought I was the one supposed to be babysitting your ass, not the other way around,” Sam said. He huddled down into the thin blanket.
“At least it beats the marshmallow beds.” Steve reached over to give Sam his own blanket from his bedroll and was rewarded with another glare, but no outward protest.
(For the prompt, Steve/Sam, huddling for warmth.)
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Fall to Pieces by Capriccio
Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
06 Nov 2015
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Everything in this world is a jigsaw puzzle, each piece too blurry and close up to make out a bigger picture. Steve knows—he’s been told—the pieces fit somehow. But Bucky’s here, in sharp focus. Maybe his shape is different, but so is Steve’s. They’ll fit together anyway.
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Moving in a Retrograde by Capriccio
Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
14 Mar 2015
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He thinks about the man who does recognize him, the one whose face comes into sharp focus, brighter than all the rest among the shadows of his memories. The one who made him remember.
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It’s not as if Merlin is the only one with a secret. Growing up with a father like Uther has made Arthur very careful about the ones he keeps.
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There’s a movement, a fluttering of Merlin’s eyelashes. Arthur pulls away and breathes out a sigh of relief as Merlin’s eyes open slowly, but it’s all wrong: Merlin’s eyes are glowing gold. They blink at him, blind and unseeing, and slowly drift shut again.
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Arthur is searching for the face that haunts his waking hours, driven to delving inside his dreams to find him.
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Arthur wasn’t sure why he and Merlin were always invited to the same weddings—or why they shared the same memories from the past—but he wasn’t above making a spectacle of himself as he tried to figure it out.
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Written for eledhwenlin’s prompt: Arthur and Merlin work in a software company, Arthur's the boss and Merlin's the lowly tech support guy. It’s easier to fight, to fall into their pattern, than to sort out the mess they’ve made of each other.
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Arthur might be a simpleton, but he’s not stupid. He sees the look in Merlin's eyes: soft and fond and sad, like he wants something he can't have. (Set during 4x12.)
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Merlin is just a plain white sheet, happily drying on the clothesline, until a gust of wind tangles him with the arrogant blanket next door.
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There's a sadness in Gwen's eyes that wasn't there before. In the days following her father's death, Merlin sees very little of her. When he does catch her at the water pump or in the hallways, she turns away to hide her face. He can't think of what to say to make her smile again. (Set after 1x12.)
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There are no words between them. Anything that can be said is lost in the crash of thunder, the drum of rain, the beat of Arthur's heart.
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It's not something that you're born with or something that you remember in pieces. You just wake up one day and remember everything.
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"Or, perhaps, he will turn into a bunny whenever he is around his true love," Nimueh said, and then paused and looked puzzled as if she had not meant to say such a thing.
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It isn't the conventional way to go about things, but a glass of red wine spilling on a white shirt—and the promise of repayment—is as good a place to start as any. (Or, Arthur and Merlin do everything backwards, but they do it right anyway.)