#also light brunette dame?????? I’m into it

[sexynetra]

I missed them so bad you don’t understand

[nev3rfound]

someone i once knew : b.b - p.3

tony has questions, but he isn’t the only one wanting an explanation (2.6k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

(also thank you for the insane amount of support for this series! you guys have taken me by such surprise and i am so grateful you’re all invested :) ) 

Tony steps into your suite, trying to subtly notice the changes you’ve made whilst he was gone.

“Look, Tony, if this is about the files I’m really sorry,” You sigh apologetically, catching Tony’s attention as he turns to face you. “sometimes my R’s end up looking like N’s and I didn’t mean for it to look like I’d written Tony Stan-”

Holding his hand up, you stop your rambles as Tony raises a brow. “Y/n, that’s not why I’m here.” Tony interrupts you. “Wait, it said that?” He questions and you weakly nod, but quickly he returns to his original thought process; why he is here in the first place.

“Then, why are you here?” You ask nervously, feeling a pit begin to form in your stomach.

“Nat passed on a message, that you didn’t seem very well.” Tony explains, now pacing around the entrance of your suite whilst you remained still, too still for his liking. “And I overheard a conversation from two super soldiers discussing you.” Tony motions to you, catching sight of your eyes widening.

“I, why would they talk about me?” You question in disbelief, hearing multiple voices run through your mind, some yelling over Tony as he continues to talk to you, but you can only see his lips moving.

“-and that you know them somehow, funny really.” Tony huffs to himself as he walks in the direction of the small kitchen you have, noticing a glass half-filled with a single flower, dried out, dead. “Don’t you think, Y/n?”

The prolonged silence from you catches Tony out as he glances over his shoulder, seeing you stood calmly, tears streaming down your face.

“Y/n?” Tony calls out, carefully nearing you as he waves his hand in front of your eyes, but there’s no response. “FRIDAY? Get Banner for me.”

With a deep exhale, you collapse down to the ground. “I, I, I’m sorry,” You breathe out, coughing loudly on a sob that chokes your throat.

Kneeling down in front of you, Tony eyes your movements carefully. “What’s going on with you, Y/n?” He thinks aloud as you manage to sit upright, clutching your legs to your chest as a look of horror solidifies across your expression.

Bruce opens the door to your suite, looking alert as he notices both you and Tony on the ground.

“Everything okay, Tony?” Bruce asks hesitantly, seeing a level of concern cross Tony’s frown.

“Just, sit still, okay.” Tony instructs you, but you’re barely responsive as Tony walks away, taking Bruce outside of your suite as the door remains slightly ajar.

Rubbing his temples, Tony sighs. “What’s going on with her? Bad day or something?” Bruce jokes, but Tony shakes his head.

“I think she might be a plant.” The tone leaving his voice is enough to remove any humour from Bruce as he straightens up. “Somehow, Steve and Bucky know her, or at least knew her.” Tony explains. “But she seems oblivious, and I’m just wondering if she’s just like Barnes, waiting to be activated.”

Bruce hums in response. “What’re we supposed to do with her then if she’s potentially some killing machine?” The words feel sour leaving his lips, but Bruce has read the files on HYDRA.

Over Tony’s shoulder, Bruce watches as a small hand reaches out to the door and pulls it open.

Tony can’t help but tense as you stand against the door frame, a weak smile forming on your lips despite the dried tears lining your cheeks.

“I don’t know what’s going on with me, Tony.” You sadly admit. “Do, do you think you can help me, please?”

“Come with us, Y/n.” Bruce forces a grin as he walks toward the elevator, Tony hanging back as you slowly walk out and stand beside Tony.

“Can you help make it stop, Tony?” You plead to your employer who seems conflicted.

“We’ll do what we can.” Tony coldly states, walking behind you to the elevator, ensuring you stand between him and Bruce, just in case anything happens.

*

Your footsteps can be heard throughout the base as you follow behind the woman in charge. Heads turned as she walks with confidence, no one taking notice of who you are in her presence.

Pushing the door open to her office, you follow in and hover by the chair. “Please, Y/n,” Peggy motions to the chair as she closes the door, lowering the blinds too to ensure privacy.

“Thank you for meeting me, Ms Carter.” You speak politely, trying to keep a facade up that everything will be alright, but if there’s anyone who can see right through it, it’s Peggy Carter.

Rifling through the files on her desk, Peggy opens up a series of them as the papers cover the space in front of her. “Oh Y/n, call me Peggy.” Her red lips rise to a sincere smile, hoping you’d ease the tension you’re holding. “Well, the good news is I’ve had the report in from the Doctor, and you’re fit and healthy all around.”

You can’t stop the giggle of excitement escape you. “Sorry,” You mutter, but Peggy doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest; it’s the most positive you’ve sounded in the past two years you’ve known her.

“No need to be, there are still a few more tests we have to run on both you and the machinery. However, if all still stands, we should be able to do our first test run within the year.” Peggy explains, catching sight of the frown on your lips deepening. “I know this isn’t the news you hoped for today, but trust me, this is progress.”

Peggy reaches out, placing her hand on the desk. Slowly, you extend your arm, allowing her to take your hand in hers.

“We both lost, Y/n. But we can move forward.” She assures you once more, hoping someday you’ll believe it yourself.

“It happened again,” You explain, looking up directly to the clock, noticing five minutes have passed since you focused on it. “it keeps happening, more frequently than before and I can’t control it.” Panic rises in your voice as you perch on the lab bench, studying Tony and Bruce's reactions as they monitor you closely.

“So these, ‘memories’ aren’t your own?” Tony asks uncertainly.

Rubbing your eyes as they continue to pound, you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, they’re in my head, and I can remember aspects of them, certain noises, settings and sometimes people. I, I was with a Carter,” You squint, trying to remember her name, but you sigh heavily. “I can’t remember, sorry.”

“Carter?” Tony repeats, and you nod. “Interesting.” He mumbles as he helps Bruce hook you up to the systems, hoping to catch your next ‘memory’ and see your brain activity whilst monitoring your heart. “I, I’ve gotta make a call.” Tony excuses himself, nodding to Bruce before exiting the lab.

“If you can just lie down, Y/n.” Bruce asks you gently, seeing the fear in your eyes as you lie back. “I’m just going to place these on your head and chest.”

Closing your eyes, you try your best to relax whilst images of a brunette with red lipstick form in your mind. You can hear her faintly saying two names, but your ability to focus is gone once again.

Across the compound, Bucky is barely able to focus as he slams his fists against the torn punching bag whilst Steve stands on the other side, keeping it in place after Bucky nearly threw Sam across the room.

“Are you sure she’s okay?” Bucky shifts his attention across the gym to Natasha and Wanda’s conversation.

Natasha shrugs her shoulders as she stretches out. “I don’t know, she went dead behind the eyes and as I left her, Tony was heading her way.” Natasha explains, and Bucky looks over to Steve.

“Buck, I’m sure it’s fine.” Steve tries to help, but Bucky shakes his head.

“I can feel it, Steve,” Bucky mutters. “somethings wrong, I, I can’t just leave it.” He explains, swiftly walking off out of the gym as eyes turn to Steve holding the rocking bag.

Scoffing under his breath, Steve pushes the bag away from him. “Bad day.” Steve comments before running after Bucky before he can do any potential damage.

Sitting with his fellow soldiers, Bucky tries to disguise his rising fears, but his foot continues to tap against the ground. “You got a dame back home, Barnes?” One of the soldiers, Johnson asks and light laughter echoes through the cells as they all wait for some movement to be heard.

Lifting his head up, Bucky focuses on each of those he can see from his regiment, those who are left at least. No one is sure who captured them, but Bucky knows they aren't likely to get out of this scot free, or alive for that matter.

“I do,” Bucky admits quietly. “and she’s the most wonderful gal I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

“That’s sweet,” Johnson comments, sitting opposite Bucky as he wipes his bloodied nose with his palm. “just, just keep thinkin’ about her, alright? That sorta thought helps.” He nods to Bucky before resting his head back against the metal bars.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers as footsteps can be heard, heading directly towards his cell. “if I don’t make it out, can you tell her I,”

Before Bucky can finish his sentence, two large men unlock his cell and grab him. He manages to catch a glimpse at the red band on their arms, noticing a different symbol than the Nazi one branded in his mind.

“Please, just tell her!” Bucky yells as he’s dragged out of sight, unaware of the horrors he’s about to face.

Focusing on Bruce, you tense as the stickers are placed on your forehead. “Sorry, did that hurt?” Bruce asks timidly, but you shake your head.

“Just kinda cold,” You nervously remark as the rest are slowly placed. “where did Tony go?”

Bruce looks past you at the glass walls, seeing Tony walk out of sight with his phone against his ear. “He, er, had to make a quick phone call. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly.” Bruce reasons as he attaches the last sticker to your chest before averting his attention to the computer systems.

Closing your eyes, you listen to the methodical tapping of keys and the sudden sound of your heart rate beside you flashing up on a monitor.

“Okay, all systems in place. Now it’s down to you to induce a ‘memory.’“ Bruce forces an anxious laugh as you simply look at him before tilting your head back to focus on the blank ceiling, a shame they couldn't cover it in stickers like the dentist used to, you think.

“Do you think I’m evil?” You ask, not daring to move your vision from the ceiling, unaware of Bruce stepping back.

“No.” He responds quickly. “I think you’ve been manipulated with, but I don’t think you’re evil.” Bruce justifies, checking the brain activity to see any spikes, but it remains standard.

“You’re acting like I’m made of glass.” You comment, now moving your head to see Bruce rubbing his hands together as he watches the monitors. “But I’m not, I, I know my parents, my childhood home and school." Your voice begins to waver, but you carry on regardless.  "I can tell you the classes I took in college, my first boyfriend and my first time drinking.” You ramble, but Bruce is trying to ignore you. “Please, I, I know who I am.” You whimper, slamming your head back as you stare at the bare white walls above you.

Outside, Tony listens as the line ends up with him left answering a voicemail for the third time.

“Fury, it’s Stark, listen, I need to speak with you urgently. There’s something going on with my new assistant, Y/n Y/l/n. She, she knows Peggy Carter and, just call me back, ASAP.” Huffing, Tony leans against the wall, wondering how he got himself into this mess.

Yet, his moment of contemplation is short-lived as yells from Steve can be heard up ahead.

“Buck, just stop!” Steve shouts as Bucky comes into view, eyes dark and fists clenched as he marches down the corridor.

“Woah, woah, where do you think you’re going?” Tony asks, standing in front of Bucky as Steve catches up in time before Bucky raises his fists.

Holding Bucky back, Steve grunts as Bucky fights against his hold.

“Where is she?” Bucky can feel the anger rising through his veins as Tony buries his hands in his pockets, remaining perfectly calm.

“Where’s who?” Tony asks, looking up to Steve who shakes his head, still struggling to hold Bucky back.

“Come on, Tony. We know you have Y/n down here,” Steve sighs, a brief moment of weakness that Bucky detects as he slams his elbow into Steve’s stomach, causing him to recoil and release Bucky.

Without a moment to lose, Bucky rushes forward to the lab and before he’s stunned by Tony, he catches sight of you on a metal slab, hooked up to machinery with tears streaming down your face.

“No, Y/n!” Bucky screams, pausing by the glass wall, his metal hand resting against it as you begin to turn your head, a second too late as Tony fires a stun at him, forcing Bucky to the ground.

Your breathing increases, causing your heart rate to spike and Bruce rushes over. “Hey, Y/n, it’s fine. Tony has just er, stunned him.” Bruce explains, but your eyes widen.

“Bruce, I, I need to see him, please, let me see Bucky.” You practically beg, trying to pull the wires from yourself but Bruce manages to hold you down before you notice a needle piercing your arm.

With heavy eyes, your focus on Bruce begins to fade. “I’m sorry, Y/n. We’ve gotta keep you here.” His voice sounds too far away as your vision darkens, the last of the ceiling disappearing as your eyes close.

Bucky grunts as he remains on the ground, but turns his head to see Tony stood with his hand covered by his Iron Man tech, a glow of pale blue emitting from his palm, yet to be fired.

“You alright, Buck?” Steve calls out from beside Tony.

Not responding verbally, Bucky nods as he uneasily stands, holding his hands up and remains on the spot where he fell, out of sight from you.

“Tony, lower your hand.” Steve scoffs, and Tony hesitantly obliges, powering his charge down. “I told you not to come here, Bucky,” Steve comments like a disappointed parent, but Bucky’s jaw clenches as he looks at the floor beneath him, the scuff marks from where he fell moments prior.

“Are one of you planning on telling me what the hell is going on here? Because I’ve got a delusional assistant having a brain scan in there who might be a potential HYDRA plant and I want answers.” Tony steps forward, looking between the two super soldiers. “No, you don’t wanna tell me?” Tony raises his arms in defeat and begins to walk away, back to the lab.

“Bucky,” Steve mutters to his friend who eases his jaw and finally looks up.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” Bucky speaks up, and Tony spins on his heels, facing Bucky. “she was my fiance.”

Tony stares at Bucky in disbelief before whistling loudly. "Well, I didn't expect that."

P A R T  F O U R 

(thank you to the following for all the love in the first two parts! if you’d like to be tagged in this mini series do let me know) (tagging those who wished to be tagged from p2!) 

@mellmellmell12@theofficialzivadavid @fandom-princess-forevermore @lokilovefoever @vivalakatee @chgevorgian @captainwinterwriter @carliewinchester @spn-obession @buckysquad @shower-me-with-roses @basicgukk @yasminwashere @sunfouler  @feminist-fan-girl @stealapizzamyheart​

[anarcoqueer1994]

No More Dates

It was the summer of 1933, and Steve had just turned 15 years old. He is sitting in his kitchen with his ma, as she cooks. He's doodling on a scrap of paper when behind him he hears the door open; Bucky. Sarah never minded the brunette busting in without knocking. She sees him like another one of her kids and loves that her son has such a good friend. 

Steve hears Bucky walk up behind him, feeling Bucky's strong arm wrap around his shoulder. Steve has to focus on not blushing. Ever since his friend has started down at the docks, his already handsome body has taken on harder lines and muscles. It was not helping Steve’s massive crush on him one bit.

 He is broken out of his thoughts when the other boy starts to speak. "Good evening, Mrs. Rogers." He smiles at the blond woman at the stove. She smiles back and waves slightly.

He turns his attention to Steve. "Hey, Stevie. What'cha drawing?" Bucky looks down at the paper which Steve tries to hide. He isn't quick enough. Bucky sees. "This is good." Buck beams at the hastily sketched lips on the page. Luckily for Steve, he doesn't realize those are his lips.

"Uh, thanks Buck." Steve flashes a little smile back before turning the paper over, giving his full attention to the older boy.

"So listen Stevie, want to go out with me tonight?" Steve's  hands suddenly get sweaty. What does Bucky mean, out tonight? With him, like a date. They can't do this, two guys. Bucky sees Steve’s panic stricken face. He asks "What's  wrong? Please tell me you don’t have a shift at Mr. Green's do you?" Mr. Green owned a grocery store where Steve would bag at, one of the only places that would hire him. Bucky continues. "Please say you don't, I got us two pretty dames looking for a good time."

Oh. Steve thinks. Of course Bucky wasn’t talking about going out with him. Why would he? He got them a double date. He doesn't particularly want to go. Over the last few months, Bucky has gotten them all these double dates. But they all end up the same. Whatever poor girl who is his date, politely conducts herself but she always is more enthralled with Bucky. Oftentimes the girl only says yes to a date with him so her friend could get a date with the other man, since Bucky has made it clear that he won't go out with anyone if Steve can’t come.

But Steve would watch as the girls would whisper between themselves, teenage girls tending to not be discrete. He would see them giggle and bat their eyes at his friend, when the most he would get is an obligatory smile. He can't blame them though, he wasn’t much to look at, not like Bucky.  Steve swore Bucky was the picture  perfect man. To be honest, he catches himself staring at his friend too, jealousy  often washing over him when he would see Bucky's  hand wrapped around a girl's waist, pulling her close. He wishes Bucky could hold him like that; wanted to hold him like that back.

"No, I worked this morning. But Buck...you didn't need to get me a date. You go on and have fun. Plus I promised Ma I would help clean the oven tonight." He lies lamely.

Bucky frowns but nods his head. "Alright, Stevie…" He sounds disappointed.

Sarah, hearing the lie, shakes her head, careful not to embarrass her son while still not letting him off the hook. "It's alright, Steve. I got the oven. Just go have fun, tonight." Sarah doesn’t want her boy sitting at home. She knows that her son is a little...funny. And she knows she will always love her son no matter who he loves. But their church and society could be mean. She didn’t  want her Steve facing that. She hopes that with these dates he can find a nice girl. 

Bucky's face lights up.  "Perfect! Thanks Mrs. Rogers!" He smiles at Steve and heads to the door. 'Be ready in an hour, okay?"

"Sure Buck…" Steve says unenthusiastically as the older boy leaves. He sighs before putting his head down in his arm on the table. 

"Steve…" Sarah says softly. "It'll be fun. Maybe the girl will be nice."

Steve picks his head up slightly to look at his mom. "Ma, it always is the same. The poor girl who gets stuck with me has no interest. And why should she? Look at me."

She puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Baby, you're very handsome and any one would be lucky to be "stuck with you."

"You have to say that, you are my mom. I look like those yappy dogs with the big head and tiny body. I am nobody's type." He mopes.

"Steven Grant Rogers, you stop that right now. You are going on this date tonight and you are going to have fun." She says sternly.

Steve knows there is not a use in arguing with her so he just nods and resides himself to his fate.

~

Sarah had pulled out Steve's dad's  

old grey suit, insisting on dressing the boy well for his date. He felt ridiculous, everything slightly too big. He should be used to that, all of his clothes fit like that. He wore the jacket unbuttoned hoping it would be less obvious about how too big it was. His mother let him use some of the little colgne she had, stored away from her late husband. She said he was perfect.  He knew otherwise.

He meets Bucky at the bottom of the steps of his tenement. Bucky, of course, looks flawless, hair slicked back, effortless handsome, with button down shirt rolled to his elbows. Steve thinks he is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. And then Bucky smiles. A smile Steve cherishes as it is just for him.

"Hey Stevie" he throws his arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a half hug. "You look great!" 

Steve blushes. "You're lying but thanks, so do you, pal."

Bucky wants to argue. He wants to tell him he's wrong because Steve always looked great, always looked perfect to him but knows Steve won't  back down. So, he just smiles sadly at his best friend. "What are we going to do with you, man?" He asks as they start walking.

Once they get their dates, they head to a dance hall. Bucky's date is a pretty blond girl with bright blue eyes, Margaret, and Steve's is a redhead with green eyes named Dora. Steve is polite and is surprisingly light on his feet. Dora looks like she is having a good enough time as Steve tries his best to small talk with her and enjoy this date.

But it's hard because it is obvious that they both want someone else. As they danced, Steve would watch out of the corner of his eye as Bucky would twirl and dip his date, then pull her oh so close. There felt like there was something pushing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He hated himself for hating that Bucky was holding someone else. 

He tried his best to put on a happy face for his date, who had been nothing but sweet. But he noticed that she too was making eyes at someone else, a guy across the room right that she seemed to know, as he looked back equally as sweetly. Steve knew how it felt to want someone else, but unlike him, she had a chance.

He pulls her over to the table mid dance. "What is it?" She says softly. 

"You're a very nice girl, Dora. You have been incredibly kind and I have had a good time. But I'm not the one you want to be here with, am I?" Steve asks nicely, careful not to sound accusatory.

She looks down before saying "Am I that obvious? 

He laughs, showing her he is not mad. "Yea. Also... it looks like he wants to be with you as much as you want to be with him. So go and dance with him, have fun."  Steve replies lightly.

She gives him a pretty smile before surprising him with a hug, which he returns. She whispers "Thank you Steve." She holds him there a little longer before whispering  one more thing. "I know I'm not the only one of us sweet on someone else and for the record, I think he is sweet on you too." What Steve didn’t realize was that between his glances at Bucky, Bucky glanced back, an evening of missed gazes.

She pulls away and waves, without another word making her way to the other man. Steve is left dumbfounded, and terrified, and excited all at once. 

Most importantly he knows he has to get out of there, a feeling a dread that he gave himself away as a fairy. He knows she won't tell anyone other than maybe her friend...but what if others do find out. Suddenly it is hard to breathe, as he rushes out the door. 

~~

He ends up on the fire escape outside Bucky's room. The lights are out in the Barnes' residence,indicating that the family was asleep. He comes here a lot when he wants to escape. He guesses he is not that great at escaping since he always ends up at the same place. He sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, eyes shut.

What did she mean he was sweet on me too? How can she know that? How could, Bucky, the boy who has been chasing skirt like it was going out of style the last few months, be into him? They were just best friends, and he was just a hopeless fool who wanted to much. What if Bucky turned on him when he found out that Steve liked other fellas...liked him.

The last thought made him shiver, made him sick to his stomach, losing the one man that means more than him than the entire universe. A tear rolls down his face, before closing his eyes again. He is so focused on his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the window open behind him and someone step out. It isn't until he feels an arm wrap around his shoulder and pull him close that he realizes he isn't alone.

Bucky's voice is gentle as he whispers "Why'd you leave, Stevie?"

Steve’s  breath hitches in his throat as he feels Bucky's strong arm holding him there. He forces himself to talk "I...i just wasn't having a good time, I just wanted to leave…thats all."

Bucky's voice gains a level of worry as he replies "You wouldn’t be sitting here if that was all. Please tell me what's wrong...I would of left with you, Steve. When I noticed you were gone, I left immediately and searched everywhere for you. Your ma said you didn’t come home, so I knew you would be here. Why didn’t  you get me?"

Hearing the worry and sadness coat Bucky's  voice makes Steve feel terrible, unable to look up at him as he answers "Because, Buck, I left because of you…" another silent tear falls. 

"What..." Bucky sound confused, voice broken as he instinctively pulls away from Steve, scared whatever he did, he is making worse. "What did I do?"

Steve lets put an unamused laugh, silent tears falling more freely now as he looks at Bucky, who's  face is distorted with guilt and confusion. Steve just wants to reach up and smooth out his features back to the beautiful care free ones that typically live on his face. "You...didn't do anything, I did. I'm whats wrong here, Buck."

Bucky is torn between wanting to pull Steve into a hug and never let go and not wanting to scare away his friend by touching him, so he fidgets with his hands in his lap. "Steve that's impossible...you couldn't have done anything wrong." He sounds sincere, like he thinks Steve is perfect.

"You---" a strangle sob manages to escape. "You think to highly of me. I don't deserve it. Buck, remember when we were in school, and the other boys would call me a fairy because we spent so much time together….and I look like this?" Steve feels bad, Bucky would always stand up for him, the other boys always backing down. They never backed down when Steve would stand up for himself, often getting his ass kicked.

"Yea, those guys are idiots, still are. I work with some of them down at the dock." Bucky says plainly.

"No...they aren't, because they were right." Steve sound sad.

"What?" Bucky says again, confused more than ever.

"I'm a fairy...a pansy….I like fellas like you are supposed to like dames, Buck. And I'm so sorry….so so sorry. I'm so afraid of anyone finding out. It'll break ma's heart….everyone at church will hate me...God hates me….everyone will hate me. I'm disgusting…" Steve is shaking now, sobs freely escaping between words. He hadn't meant to say all this but it slipped out.

Bucky, unable to not do anything, throws his arms around Steve, pulling his head to his chest, gently petting his hair. "Shhh...shhh….its okay Stevie, s'okay." He repeats for awhile before whispering "If you're disgusting,  I'm disgusting." Steve gets really still in his arms, before tilting his head up to look at Bucky. "What?"

"I said, I'm "disgusting" too. I...uh like ladies, I do. I just like fellas too...especially...one fella in particular." He answers shyly.

Steve’s heart feels like it is on a roller coaster. In the same breath that he found out Bucky was also a queer...he finds out Bucky has eyes for a guy already.  Jealousy wells up inside of him, this somehow hurting more than a dame. Being a glutton for punishment, Steve asks "Who?"

Bucky laughs, arms still around his oblivious friend. "You, punk."

Steve’s heart is literally going to beat right out his chest qnd fly away. In disbelief he asks "Then why did you drag me on all those dates?" 

Bucky takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "I thought it was easier this way...hide how I was feeling and get to spend time with you, thought it was a win-win."

Steve clears his throat, pulling away so he can look Bucky in the eyes, Bucky’s arms still resting on his shoulders. "Not...not for me. I...hated seeing you holding other people...that weren't me. Do you know how many times I wished it was me in your arms, slow dancing. Because…I really love you. And I know people say that you can't  know love at 15….but I do….love is whatever I feel when I'm with you and---" 

Before he can finish, Bucky pulls him in for a soft, chaste kiss. Steve practically melts. This is is his first kiss, and its clumsy and sweet and everything he ever wanted.

When they break away, both boys smile like love sick puppies. Bucky smiles "I love you too, Stevie."

Steve smiles back "No more dates?"

"No more dates." Bucky agrees.

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 3

Oh, look, another chapter for the 20s AU I started for the @shepherds-of-haven Summer Event, which has taken on a life of its own. In this chapter: A couple new (but familiar!) faces, and the plot thickens.

----

Five minutes into Ashtown proper, Xaeryn was exceedingly grateful for the directions Mr. Syndran had provided. He hadn’t been wrong comparing the place to a warren.

“You look lost, doll.”

Her head snapped up from the paper in her hand to meet the gaze of a lanky man lounging against a wall, a soft cap slouched down over his forehead. His--very familiar--green eyes were much more vivid in person than they had been in her scry.

Xaeryn arched a brow coolly. “And what led you to that conclusion?”

He smirked and pushed away from the wall. “The way you keep checking that paper for one, Sunshine.” His hands slid in his pockets. “Also, we don’t get dames that look like you here all that often. Anything I can help you find?”

“You’re awfully helpful,” Xaeryn said, resisting the urge to run a hand down her outfit.

He doffed his cap and sketched an exaggerated bow, giving her a wink when he righted. “Consider me the Ashtown welcoming committee.”

“And what a charming first impression you make.” Xaeryn regarded him for a moment or two more, then decided to see how things would play out. “I’m trying to find Chase Trinaeste.”

The man’s eyes twinkled, bright as the scarf tossed ‘round his neck. “I think I can help with that. Right this was, Sunshine,” he said blithely, as if he wasn’t the aforementioned Trinaeste himself.

A large part of Mr. Syndran’s adamant belief Thieves guild had been involved in the theft rode on Trinaeste’s presence in her scryed vision. “He trusts his lieutenants with the vast majority of their... jobs,” Mr. Syndran had explained, nose wrinkling slightly in distaste.  “His being there shows it was a heist of high importance to their gang, fitting the theft of an artefact.” 

Xaeryn had no reason to doubt his logic. But she’d be a fool to show all the cards she held at the outset.

“My name is not ‘sunshine’,” she said briskly instead.

“Well, then, doll, what am I calling ya?” Trinaeste asked, unruffled by her tone.

“Miss Shrike will do for now, I think. And what do I call you?”

“Who says you need to call me anything?” he returned as he led her down several new streets in quick succession.

“It might come in handy if I want to commend your hospitality to Mr. Trinaeste,” she countered, trying her best to memorize their route. Left, left, right...

“I’ll get by, Miss Shrike,” Trinaeste said with a light laugh.

He was very good at dodging, she did have to give him that. “For politeness’ sake, then. Perhaps I’d feel better about following you into the depths of Ashtown if I at least knew your name.”

He laughed again, pausing by a wall decorated with a... creative interpretation of a cat’s head. “Well, then. I have a confession to make, in that case.”

“Oh?” Xaeryn marked the two brunos nearby--one down an alley, the other lounging by a door--despite their affected nonchalance. “And what would that be?”

“Chase Trinaeste at your service.” He skipped the exaggerated bow this time, instead shoving his hands in his pockets, elbows akimbo, and grinning at her cheekily. “Now that you’ve found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

“First thing that comes to mind is ask why we couldn’t have the introductions back where we first spoke?”

“Let’s say I feel safer on home turf, doll. Just in case your reason for wanting me is less fun than I’m hoping.”

She glanced significantly at one of the toughs. “And if this arrangement doesn’t thrill me?”

“You can leave,” Trinaeste said with a shrug. “We ain’t going to stop you.” His grin widened, cat-like. “But you seem the type who doesn’t like leaving empty-handed, Miss Shrike.” He gestured toward the door next to one member of their small audience. “Whatever it is you’re after, I think we’ll be more comfortable in my office, don’t you?”

She doubted he cared between the two locations as strongly as she doubted it was an actual office, but Xaeryn did have to admit some privacy for this conversation would be a good thing. “Do I strike you as the type to just follow strange men into unfamiliar buildings, Mr. Trinaeste?”

He laughed. “A dangerous question, doll. You strike strike me as the type who enjoys a good mystery.”

(Or even a bad one, Xaeryn finished wryly to herself.)

Trinaeste raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “On my honor as head of the guild, I promise you will leave in the same condition and carrying the same things as when you got here, so long as you don’t threaten me or mine.”

“A fair deal,” she said in assent, and nodded toward the door. “After you.”

Red would have a heart attack if he knew what she was doing. She swallowed a laugh at the thought; less than a week reconnected and his reaction was one of the first things to cross her mind. Her gut said it would be a worthwhile risk. While Trinaeste was indisputably a dangerous man, there was a clear sense of ‘only when necessary’ to his skill that gave her confidence she would be fine.

“One more condition,” Trinaeste said as he led the way into the building. “Call me Chase. No idea who ‘Mr. Trinaeste’ is, but he sounds too high-class to be me.”

He’d kowtowed to her chosen address easily enough, and she did want him amenable to talking. She could grin and bear the informality for one conversation. “Very well.”

They didn’t go far from the outer door before Chase swung to the side through another doorway. Xaeryn almost tripped over the abruptness as she followed. There was no desk, or any other typical office furniture save chairs. There were five of those; loosely grouped on one side of the room. Opposite them a stack of shipping crates were shoved against a tapestry-hung wall. It was eclectic and flamboyant and (she’d just bet) full of secrets. A perfect match for the man now flopped in one of the fairly-comfortable looking chairs and grinning at her again.

“So, Miss Shrike, what did you want from me?”

(From the way his eyes twinkled, that phrasing was very much on purpose.)

Xaeryn chose her seat and her reply with equal care; the former so she could see both her host and the door, the latter to convey intent without accusing. Yet. “I’m investigating a theft and have reason to believe you may have seen something helpful.”

Chase laughed. “You think I did it.”

“You do helm the Thieves guild, Chase,” she said lightly, crossing her legs and flicking dust off her hem. So much for trying to be subtle.

“Fair point,” he conceded with another laugh, before leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees and his chin on his palms with still-twinkling eyes. “So, what is it you think we stole?”

“An artefact.”

She was interrupted before giving a description as Chase’s grin went cat-like gain and the twinkle in his eyes shifted to a hard glitter. “Syndran set you on us, didn’t he? What did he lose?”

“Mr. Syndran didn’t lose anything. Transit is a possibility for when a piece was stolen,” Xaeryn said primly. “And while, yes, he may have pointed me in your direction as an avenue of investigation, I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I followed accusations that lacked supporting evidence.”

“Ah, you’re a private dick,” Chase smirked, eyes once again twinkling in amusement. “Tell you what, Miss Shrike, since you bein’ here is bountiful evidence Riel’s people not only dropped the ball, but bad enough he doesn’t want to involve the cops, I’ll tell you whatever you need to help. That being the best news I’ve had this week and all.”

She arched a brow. “Whatever I need?”

He spread his hands. “I’m an open book, doll.”

“Chase!” a new voice scolded. The owner, a slender brunette, paused in the doorway to scowl along with her critique. “You know better than to offer open season on guild secrets like that!”

“Calm down, Ari.” Chase slouched back, waving one hand in Xaeryn’s direction. “Our guest seems a smart enough dame to not ask for more than she needs.” That glimpse of danger was back under the last word.

“I’m not after your secrets,” Xaeryn promised. “Just trying to find a missing artefact.”

“And what artefact would that be?” Ari asked, still wary, and still poised in the doorway. Xaeryn noted but didn’t comment on the jangling stack of bracelets that sheathed a good three inches of the other woman’s wrist.

“A pendent, this big.” she indicated the size. “Black stone and bronze.”

“Wasn’t us,” Chase said easily.

“You were witnessed along the transport caravan’ route.”

“Oh, we were casing it,” he acknowledged with a wink.

“Chase!”

He just grinned at Ari’s beratement. “We didn’t steal anything, though. Couldn’t get a good shot at what we were supposed to nick.”

“Supposed to?” Xaeryn interjected. “So this is something you were contracted to steal rather than...” She waffled a moment over word choice, “...personal?”

“Yeah. Like I said, though, we didn’t get anything.” Chase shrugged. “Just as well; our butter and egg man never showed his face after.”

“Hm.” Xaeryn made a mental note to look into how popular a target the caravan had become. “Did you notice anyone else who seemed to be casing it? Aside from your people?”

“N-” Chase’s brow furrowed and he stopped mid-negative reply. “There was that one mug Kato saw right before the trucks made the museum lot. Don’t have anything more than ‘foreign-looking’ and green hair, and he didn’t see where he went, just was a little too casual in his loitering, gave Kato an odd impression.”

It wasn’t a lead solid enough for her to really follow, but it did seem confirmation multiple parties were interested in the caravan. “I see. And what was your... client after?”

“That’s not something you need to know,” Ari said firmly.

“Knowing what else was and might yet be targeted will help my investigation, so I would have to disagree,” Xaeryn said just as firmly. “I’m not going to rat you out, in fact I plan to tell Mr. Syndran you were not responsible. But this information could be useful. Please.”

“A necklace. Gold, rubies, opals; sounded worth a pretty lyss,” Chase said, turning to flash a grin at Ari. “She did say please.”

Ari sighed but didn’t protest.

“Alright I’ll be getting out of your hair, then.” Xaeryn stood, smoothing her skirt. “I appreciate your talking to me, It was enlightening.”

She held out a hand to shake, and Chase kissed the back of it instead, shooting her a wink as she rolled her eyes. “Not a problem, Miss Shrike. Good luck catching your bad guys.”

Xaeryn couldn’t help a small chuckle at the comment as she withdrew her hand and headed for the door. She half-expected to be blocked from exiting, but that proved unfounded. She retraced the route to the edge of the Ashtown district, then headed for her office to call Mr. Syndran just as it started to rain.

---

Her call to update Mr. Syndran went about as well as it could; he was disappointed Thieves guild hadn’t panned out as a lead--Xaeryn detected some personal disappointment as well as professional they weren’t responsible. “Do you have anything beyond their word they didn’t do it?”

“No,” Xaeryn said, leaning forward over her desk to skim her notes as they talked. “Well... their word and a gut feeling they were being level.” Which is all I really have that you aren’t responsible. She was polite--and wise--enough to not make the comparison. “They were hardly going to let me search their warehouse.”

“So what’s your next step? There’s not long until the exhibit opens, and I dislike the number of dead ends you’ve encountered.”

“Oh, I’m not happy about them, either, believe me.” Xaeryn pursed her lips and fought to keep a sharp note out of her voice at his implied censure. “Next is talking to the curator at the Hall. They may have seen this green-haired foreigner Thieves guild mentioned, or something else suspicious that didn’t show when I scryed. Either way, I can get more information about the exhibit and the pendent’s owner.”

Mr. Syndran sighed. “I highly doubt this convenient and vague ‘foreigner’ exists as anything other than a red herring to lead you away from the Thieves guild, but your other goals are sound. Let me know what you learn, if anything.”

“Of course.” They exchanged farewells and hung up. Rain still pattered against the window, and a quiet growl from her stomach reminded Xaeryn she was overdue for lunch, so she bumped back calling the Hall in favor of a quick bite to eat.

And it was quick; she loved mysteries but hated being stymied at every turn like this case had done. She wanted a workable lead. While she agreed with Mr. Syndran the ‘foreigner’ was too vague to pursue on his own, green hair was far from common in Haven, even in the Mage community. If someone else made mention or he was spotted later, it wouldn’t be hard to connect the sightings. For now, she’d call the museum, speak to the curator. Hopefully that would get her somewhere.

The secretary who answered her call sounded both bored and frazzled, which Xaeryn found impressive. “Haven Hall of History and Culture, how may I help you?”

“My name’s Xaeryn Shrike, I wanted to speak to the curator about-”

“Ms. Acquell is very busy,” the receptionist cut her off. “We have an exhibit opening in just over a week, she doesn’t have time for meetings with random curiosity seekers or history aficionados right now.”

Xaeryn let a bit of edge color her voice. “I’m a private detective Mr. Syndran hired in regard to the artefact caravan.”

A long pause, the line crackling with silence, then, “Can you be here in half an hour? I’m sure she can clear some space in her schedule, though there may be  bit of a wait.”

I thought you might say that. “I can. Thank you.”

“Very well.” The secretary hung up.

Xaeryn arched a brow at the receiver before she placed it back in the cradle.  “See you shortly,” she muttered. Wonderful attitude for someone in such a socially involved position. She glanced out the window and was gratified to find the rain slacking off. She’d still drive, of course, but it would be less of a headache.

Xaeryn cleaned up from her lunch, gave her outfit a quick check to ensure it was still presentable after her visit to Ashtown and the Merchants Guild garage, and tucked her notepad back in her handbag before tugging on a hat and heading out the door. 

The drive to the museum was uneventful aside from a couple pot holes and a pedestrian chasing his umbrella into the street with nary a regard for traffic. Still, Xaeryn did arrive in one piece. A determined breeze tugged at her as she made her way up the steps, and she almost dropped her handbag in her instinctive grab to hold her hat on.

It’s pinned, you silly goose, she chided herself ruefully, and brushed drizzle off her clothes as she stepped inside. She exchanged a brief conversation--light on pleasantries--with the receptionist,and was waved toward one of the long cultural wings to wait for when Curator Acquell found a moment to speak with her. She perched on a bench that sat between a statue of the first High Augar and a glass case displaying a map of the known world at the time. At this hour and with this weather, there weren’t many other people, and the gallery was mostly quiet.

Ample opportunity for Xaeryn to ruminate on the irony her chosen seat appeared to be smack in the middle of an exhibit on the Castigation, or one of the uprisings that followed. At least, if the painting across from her was anything to go by; a group of determined Norms gripping pistols as they surrounded a cluster of bloodied but unyielding Hunters whose hands glowed with grace as they clung to their weapons...

Xaeryn shook her head and very deliberately focused on reading her notes.

---

It took half an hour--closer to three-quarters--and Xaeryn had switched to roaming the gallery to take in the sights before a short, bespectacled blonde approached.

She hesitated briefly but noticeably before clearing her throat. “Are you... Miss Shrike?”

Xaeryn nodded and held out a hand to shake. “And you would be the curator?”

The blonde bobbed her head as she shook her hand. “Shery Acquell. I’m so very sorry about the wait.” She smoothed a hand down her rumpled brown and pink dress. “We’re terribly busy trying to get the new exhibit together.” She bit her lip. “Or, as together as we can get it, at least.”

“That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about,” Xaeryn said. “But I think it’s something better discussed away from potential prying eyes and ears.”

“Oh, right, of course.” Miss Acquell briefly clasped her hands in front of her and bit her lip. “This way.” She gestured to a door. “We can speak in the Cultures of Blest wing if you don’t mind dodging crates and museum staff?”

“Not at all,” Xaeryn said as she followed the other woman through the indicated door. Getting to see behind the scenes of a museum exhibit was the opposite of an inconvenience, to her mind.

“It’s not terribly exciting, I’m afraid; lots of boxes and dust and swapping things around until you find the right arrangement. But I think we can find somewhere to talk. My office is a mess right now, or we could just go there.”

“It’s fine,” Xaeryn assured her. “A little dust won’t kill me. I dress practical for that very reason; no telling where an investigation will take me.”

“OH, that’s... smart.” Miss Acquell fiddled with her glasses and inclined her head toward an empty display pedestal. “That’s where the pendent will go, assuming it’s back before the exhibit opens.” Her face went red and she winced apologetically. “N-Not that I doubt your skill as a detective, Miss Shrike, it just seems to have vanished into thin air, and, well....” She half shrugged and let the words trail off.

“I’ve definitely hit enough dead ends for the comparison to be apt,” Xaeryn said, swallowing the spike of defensiveness to keep her tone level as she peeked at the other artefacts in the case. A belt with a snake-head buckle, a silver circlet set with a single moonstone, an ornately carved hair comb, a silver ring that resembled a basilisk eating its own tail. At least one item hummed quietly with magic of some kind, but enchantment and binding weren’t her forte, so Xaeryn couldn’t tell which. “So, to confirm, how long did the shipment sit before you and your staff started opening crates?”

“Oh, an hour?” Miss Acquell bit her lip. “Maybe two, at most? There was a... small kerfuffle in the art wing; some unruly children, and we didn’t get to the crates until that was settled. But there was a watchman outside and one in the museum, neither of them reported seeing anyone.” She played with her necklace. “As well as a Whitestone Couriers representative. Pink-haired young lady, very irate by the time I spoke to her, though that is understandable, with how long we kept her waiting.”

“Did you not have enough staff for someone to take care of the artefacts while others handled the... disturbance?”

“Normally we would have.” Miss Acquell stepped into a small alcove to move their conversation out of the way for the six or so staffers busily yet carefully removing things from crates to arrange in various displays. “But it was a lightly staffed day--Thursdays are usually slow--and I had a couple people who didn’t come in. We weren’t able to find anyone who could cover their shifts, so we were running a bit short.”

With Ms. Aerin keeping an eye on the artefacts once they reached the museum, it was no wonder Mr. Syndran was so convinced a potential theft would have occurred during transit. “What do you know about the pendent, Solimer’s torch? I’ve learn some things of its history, but what of more recent years? The last century or so?”

“A little,” Miss Acquell said, flicking a nervous glance to the side as a pair of workers fumbled the statue they were shifting. “The last century is a bit... muddy for that pendent. It’s changed hands several times, several people have made claims, few have been able to back them up. The current owner, Ms. Aescar, has the strongest claim. She can trace ancestry to the last known owner of the pendent.”

“Prior to the cheiftain of debated identity with whom it was rediscovered?”

She nodded. “Yes. The others who have tried to stake ownership claim ties to the debated chieftain, or the original tribe, or the first to conquer them, but none have ever clearly proven a connection like Ms. Aescar. And if they could, it turns into a debate predicated largely on the intricacies of right of conquest for who has the strongest claim.” She hesitated, wrung her hands. “There are some in the historical community--niche as this piece may be--who... feel it would almost be better if no further claims are validated. I-If someone can contest Ms. Aescar’s ownership, the pendent has to go in a vault until true provenance can be determined. Which means no one can display it....”

“And that process can take a very long time,” Xaeryn finished for her. It was an issue she’d run into a couple times during her years at Solhadur; an artefact she was researching was hard to get clear information about because three people had equally strong claims and it was tied up in the arbitration.

“Yes, it can.” Miss Acquell pursed her lips and looked back at the intended display. “For now, though, Ms. Aescar has a very open policy for lending it out. Far fewer requested protective measures than most. It’s as if...” she paused, brow furrowing for a moment, “as if she doesn’t really care what happens to it.”

Interesting. “Do you have her contact information? I’d like to speak with her if I could,”

“I do.” Miss Acquell nodded vigorously. “It’s in my office, so I’ll need a minute to dig it out.”

“No hurry,” Xaeryn said. “Are those watchmen here today by any chance? Accommodating as your staff has been with my other earlier inquiries, I haven’t gotten to talk to them yet.”

The curator, who had started for a nearby hall, paused and bit her lip again as she thought. “Theo is,” she finally said. “He was watching the outside lot that day. Today I think he’s in the exhibit on Norm innovation? But I can’t remember for sure. The schedule’s also in my office, I can check while I’m getting Ms. Aescar’s information.”

“Alright, I can wait.”

“Feel free to look around.” Miss Acquell waved a hand toward the progressing displays. “Just don’t touch anything? Some things would survive, but others are too fragile.”

“I generally avoid disturbing museum exhibits,” Xaeryn assured her. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.” 

With a final nod and small nervous smile, Miss Acquell scurried off down the hall. From the way she’d talked about her office, Xaeryn gathered this might take more than a few minutes. She wandered through the half-assembled exhibits and display cases, careful to keep enough distance she didn’t disturb the staff or risk damaging anything.

A small smile curved her lips when she caught sight of a necklace--complete with matching cuff bracelets and a diadem--that fit the description of what Chase claimed his guild had been hired to steal. That backed his story up, at least. There was a placard declaring they had belonged to a Queen-Consort from Karzai once upon a time.

Xaeryn was engrossed in reading a Kettish tablet when Miss Acquell returned, and it took a moment to register her presence. In fact, it wasn’t until the curator cleared her throat timidly that Xaeryn’s focus was broken and she swung around.

“Sorry. This sort of thing is a passion of mine,” she explained. “Very easy to slip off to my own little world when I get a chance to indulge.”

“I understand,” Miss Acquell said with a faint smile. “I can be the same, when I get lost in my work. Here’s Ms. Aescar’s information” --she held out a small piece of note paper--”though I should warn you it’s for her estate out near the Jalis desert and she’s apparently not home much? Bit of an adventuress, away for weeks at a time without word of how long she’ll be gone. I’m honestly not sure if we’ve managed to contact her yet to tell her the pendent’s missing.”

“Thanks for the warning, both of them.” Xaeryn slipped the paper in her handbag after checking the legibility. “I’ll keep them in mind.”

“Theo is up in the innovations exhibit, if you want to speak with him.”

“Oh, I very much do. And if something comes up and I need to talk to you again, do you have daily office hours?”

Miss Acquell nodded, then blushed. “Oh, except... except Sunday,” she amended. “I-I have church.”

“Won’t be a problem, so do I.” Normally not a detail Xaeryn shared with strangers, but the woman seemed braced for blowback to the statement.

Her face lit up with the revelation, so it was apparently a good call. “Oh, really? Where do you go?”

“The Whitestone Cathedral,” Xaeryn said. She liked the crowds, the ability to simply sit in the back, worship, and slip out before too many people even noticed she was there and tried to be chummy.

“Oh, that one’s too big for me,” Miss Acquell blurted with a bashful laugh. “I go to the chapel over by the docks.”

“I know it,” Xaeryn said with a nod. She’d had a couple cases over that way.  “Thank you very much for all your help, Miss Acquell. This visit has been very informative.”

“I’m glad to have been of help, and you can just call me Shery.” She held out a hand to shake farewell.

“Goodbye, then, Shery. And good luck setting up your exhibit.” Xaeryn shook her hand then headed off following signage toward the exhibit where this guard Theo was posted. She had some rather burning questions to ask him.

---

Her conversation with Theo held mixed success. His memory was fuzzy, which Xaeryn had expected after the time that had passed. He did remember some loiterers, but they were all far enough away from the lot he couldn’t discern features. One or two may have come across as “too casual” with hindsight, but he hadn’t clocked them as suspicious and thus hadn’t paid much mind in the moment. No accounting for street hooligans and how they spent their time, right? One might have had green hair, but they were wearing hats, and “like I said, I wasn’t payin’ much heed, Miss Lady Detective,” so he couldn’t swear by it.

With that tenuous connection possibly made slightly less tenuous, and a much-increased desire to speak with the elusive Ms. Aescar, Xaeryn wandered the museum a bit--might as well; she was here and it would help her think--before heading back out to her car.

“Ladies first,” a dark haired gentleman said, holding the front door open for her and allowing her to precede him down the steps.

Xaeryn nodded and flashed a brief smile of courteous thanks for his chivalry, noting he headed for a gleaming, high-end motorcar, black with red accents, that made hers look dingy.  Bet it’s a nightmare to keep that fancy, she thought, paying the man no further mind. She started her car and flicked on the headlights to counter the settling dim of evening as she pulled away.

With her thoughts split between the road and mulling over the case, it took a few turns for her to notice a pair of headlights that appeared to be following the same route she was. That wasn’t terribly unusual, but the fact they were deliberately keeping back was. Tricky as surreptitious glances in a motorcar could be, Xaeryn managed one the next time she had to stop for traffic. Just as her... friend passed under a streetlight.

Black car, with red accents.

Gooseflesh prickled up her arms, and she shifted her planned route home to one with sparse enough traffic covert pursuit would be impossible. Two turns into the new path, her tail must have picked up on her plan and lammed off down a side street. Xaeryn wondered if he thought he was being subtle, and kept a careful eye out the rest of the way back. Despite not seeing any further tails, she remained on guard until she turned the key in her office door, slipped in, and locked it behind her.

“Intriguing development,” she murmured to the empty room as she unpinned her hat. And an interesting end to a very full day. Xaeryn sat wearily at her desk and kicked off her shoes. Even choosing comfort over style, her feet were sore from all the walking. Merchants’ Guild, Ashtown, the Hall... and barely a chance to sit all day. She returned her notepad to the desk drawer and locked it again, but left the stiletto blade in her handbag. She’d likely need it tomorrow anyway. Particularly if it was anywhere near as busy as today.

Busy enough to have missed any telephone calls that came while I was gadding about. Normally while already on a case, that would bother her less, but Red had said he’d call if he learned anything new. She’d hate to be missing information that could help the case, she mused, flicking a glance from the telephone to the clock on her wall. Hopefully this wasn’t too late for her to call him. She dug her notepad back out and flipped through the pages until she reached the section in Red’s sprawling shorthand. There, on the back of a previous page, tucked in the corner like a random doodle, was his office telephone number. Xaeryn smiled at the close resemblance of his eights and zeroes, but knew her own ones and sevens weren’t much better.

After only a brief moment of further hesitation, she pulled the telephone closer and started dialing. It wasn’t that late.

It was answered on the third ring, a slightly breathless, “Hello?”

“Liefred?”

“Xaeryn.” There was a note of surprise in his voice.

“Got it in one, smart man.” But I knew that.

He laughed. “Not that hard; you’re just about the only one who insists on calling me that, even if you don’t need to.” There was a small creak that conjured mental images of him leaning against the desk or slouched in his chair.  “Everything alright? Did you need something?”

“Other way ‘round, actually.” Xaeryn fiddled with her notepad. “I’ve had a busy day and it occurred I wasn’t here much if you’d called, so I thought I’d check.”

“There are these people called secretaries, Xaeryn,” Red teased. “You might look into hiring one of them.”

“I know, I know.” She snorted softly. “Especially since most people don’t have your genial reaction to me missing their calls...”

“Most people haven’t known you since you were a gangly fourteen year old trying to cram yourself in the library loft to read in peace, either,” he said warmly. “I know how focused you get. And nothing new, I’m afraid. I got stuck lecturing first-years all day.”

“And you survived,” Xaeryn laughed, curling her toes in and out when they started to cramp.  

“Barely,” Red said with a rueful laugh(she’d bet he was running a hand through his hair). “And that despite their best efforts.”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to stick around,” she said, only half-joking.

“Smart woman,” he deadpanned. “But I knew that already.”

Flatterer. It sounded coy and thus stayed in her head, replaced with an equally joking, “I won’t guest lecture, before you ask.”

“Damn,” he said lightly, “At any rate, I’m sorry I don’t have more yet-”

“Don’t apologize,” she cut him off. “I wasn’t expecting anything. Only checking. Just in case. Your responsibilities come first and they kept you busy today. I had plenty of other leads to chase today.”

“Where did they take you?” Red asked. “You mentioned being busy...”

“Merchants’ Guild to start. Then Ashtown-”

“Xaeryn.” His voice was already bristling worry.

“--to talk to Thieves’ guild.”

“Alone?! Ryn-” Red huffed a sigh of exasperated, retroactive concern and she bit back a laugh at how well she’d pegged his reaction. “Do you... take risks like that often?”

“Only when I need to,” she said carefully. Wouldn’t be mentioning the tail on her way home, then. “I know how to handle myself, Liefred. I was polite, we talked, I left. It was fine.”

A long moment of silence. “If you say so.” He didn’t sound completely convinced. (She decided not to tell him her office-apartment sat right by the boundary between Astown and Smoketown) “What else?”

“Just the Hall of History and Culture to speak with the curator.” She shifted in her chair. “That one took a while, but I got some good information to follow up tomorrow.”

“Best of luck with that, and... be careful?”

Xaeryn smiled fondly, unsure whether or not to hope it carried into her voice. “As I can be.” A beat, then she added lightly, “I’d hate to wind up a cautionary tale in one of your lectures, Headmaster.”

“Xaeryn.” She could practically see him trying to glower at her(and failing; Red couldn’t be that mean) through the telephone. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” And I appreciate it. She sobered her tone to match his. “But my line of work comes with risks sometimes.The best I can do is promise not to exacerbate them.”

“I’ll take it,” Red said softly, then was quiet a long moment. “I should let you go; it sounds like you have another busy day tomorrow?”

“I do.” She’d still stay up til midnight talking to him in a heartbeat, but, “and you probably need to recover from this one.”

“Mm. I get to do it again tomorrow, too,” he said glibly.

Xaeryn laughed. “I’ll keep you in my thoughts,” she said with mock solemnity  “Good luck to you, as well, in that case.”

“Thank you, I’ll need it,” Red chuckled softly. “Goodnight, Xaeryn.”

“Goodnight, Liefred.”

She stared at the telephone a long moment after hanging up, smile curling her lips, before pushing out of the chair. After a day like this, she needed dinner, a hot bath, and a good night’s sleep. In that order.

She still double checked the door was locked before turning in.

----

(what you don’t see, bc I stuck with Ryn POV, is Pan was in Red’s office with him when she called. :3 Cue Pan promptly batting his eyelashes, making exaggerated lovestruck faces, and generally being a little shit bc He Knows, while Red’s gesturing for Pan to GET OUT of his office. and trying to get him to listen without actually talking so Ryn doesn’t know someone’s there(he doesn’t know why he doesn’t want her knowing that, he just doesn’t). Pan finally relents but hangs in the hallway til they’re done and comes back in with the biggest shit-eating grin “You’re still stuck on her, aren’t you?” Red, groaning and burying his face in his hands: “Pan, close your head, PLEASE. yes”)

[marvels-writings]

Crown

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

Prompt by: @ohboyitscringe​

Word Count: 13,998 

A/N: This is a long masterpiece and definitely worth your time

Weak sunlight shown through the window, illuminating the room in a dull orange light. The air of frustration was heavy in the air as your parents argued with you. Heels clicked on the floor as you paced the room angrily.

“Y/n, you need to wed,” Your father argued, voice heavy and determined.

“You expect me to wed some prince or princess who does not how to rule a kingdom,” You stopped pacing to face him, frustration lacing your tone. “let alone fix their hair.”

Your mother, who usually sympathized with you and let you get away with rejecting proposals, was also exasperated with you. The queen sat on the bed, posture hunched, her eyes tired and drooping low. The argument had been going on for over an hour. Multiple servants had entered and exited already. But after the king demanded they leave, none came back.

“The princess we met last was suitable,” The Queen commented.

“You truly think so?” You asked, raising a perfect eyebrow at the statement. Your mother sighed and looked down on the ground, aware of the talk which was about to follow.

“Y/n…” Your father trailed off, glancing from his wife to you. He knew better than anyone how much you’d despised your last suitor.

“No, the first time we met she seemed alright.” You scoffed, clenching your jaw, then threw your hands up in exasperation.

“But all she knows how to do is flirt and get her way no matter what. I’m not marrying a brat.” You stated malice in your tone. Your father was visibly frustrated with you, but you knew he couldn’t force you to do anything.

“Then don’t marry!” The king shouted, using his authoritative tone he used when dealing with infuriating politicians or citizens.

It was a tone you feared as a child, whenever he spoke to you this way your first reaction had been to obey. But you’d learned otherwise, you were under no obligation to take orders from him. It was this habit of yours which infuriated him the most.

“If only it was that simple.” You remarked, turning away from him.

Your mother opened her mouth to say something, probably to calm down your father like she usually did during these arguments. But a messenger opened the heavy door to the room, attracting the attention of your family.

It was a girl, about 20 years old, blonde hair tied up, she wore the uniform that all the messengers wore and held a thin roll of parchment. Her green eyes darted around nervously, taking in the scene in front of her as she bowed in respect. You’d never seen her before, you assumed she was new.

The new ones were more scared of your father than anyone else. You didn’t blame them, they were seeing the king for the first time. If they made the smallest mistake he could have them sent out of the castle. The golden crown glinting in the light on his head a constant reminder of his power.

“I said we must not be disturbed.” Your father sneered, brow furrowing in anger.

The messenger visibly cowered in the king's presence. Your mother rolled your eyes at the antics and beckoned her to hand over the parchment. The messenger bowed and handed the queen the parchment, backing away towards the door quickly after catching your father’s glare.

“This was an urgent message from a new kingdom east from us.” The messenger explained, gesturing weakly to the parchment in the queen’s hand.

You rolled your eyes at the statement. The most urgent message that could be was a thief or the most excitement in an urgent message was a wedding proposal. The latter seemed unlikely after the events with your last suitor.

“It’s a marriage proposal from the recently occupied valley.” Your mother stated, eyes widening as she read it.

“Another one?” You asked sarcastically.

The last message had been from a peasant valley just north of you. It had been a mistake to visit, the prince who had sent the proposal was no more than an uneducated soldier.

However, this message seemed to be more urgent. The queen didn’t hesitate to show your father the wedding proposal. When the king saw it, his eyes widened as he read the page, taking in every word. They whispered in rapid succession behind the large scroll. You crossed your arms at the scene unfolding in front of you.

When they were done conspiring, they turned to face you. Your mother seemed to be giddy with excitement, while your father was smiling seriously.

“You must get your things, you’re leaving in a few days.” Your father stated, leaving no room for argument.

Already exhausted from arguing, you decided not to object. Instead, you asked why you were going. Several proposals had already been rejected, you didn’t understand why this one was so special.

“To a valley?” You asked incredulously, your arms uncrossing in shock. “For what purpose?”

Your father handed you the unraveled parchment. You sighed and took it, skimming over it quickly. The messenger who was still standing at the door was unsure whether to leave or stay. Her feet shifted noisily under her, but she stopped when she caught your glare over the parchment.

The scroll was simple, it was from the leader of a group of warriors who had recently taken over a nearby valley. It was a marriage proposal from the leader of their group rather than the king or queen. But it was worded as more of an invitation.

They were inviting you to spend a month at their castle to settle marriage negotiations. Nowhere did it say who the marriage proposal was from.

There were other notes on the sides by politicians who had been shown this proposal. None of which objected to the invitation. Not that you were surprised, a powerful ally, a princess, what could go wrong?

“This seems overly familiar.” You commented, rolling up the parchment and handing it back to the messenger. The girl made a small bow and accepted it, fidgeting with the thin parchment noiselessly.

“You’re going tomorrow.” The queen commanded, her tone strict and assertive.

“But the valley is filled with burglars.” You argued, hoping she would see the risk.

But it didn’t seem like either of your parents was going to let this pass. Your mother sighed, knowing you were trying to get out of it. Your father refused to let this pass.

“We’ll send our best knight with you.” The king stated.

You opened your mouth to argue. Say anything, object these redundant proposals. But before you could, the nervous messenger girl interrupted you.

“Forgive me but,” She began, but stopped when the royal family turned to glare at her.

The messenger gulped loudly, you saw the hint of a smirk on your father’s face. He liked making people nervous, a trait you had gained from him.

“But the kingdom has already arranged for a knight to come for her safety.” The messenger finished.

Relief washed over your parent's faces. But this news darkened your features. It only secured your travel to this valley.

“Then that’s taken care of,” Your mother smiled. The messenger looked visibly relieved when the king’s features softened.

“When is this knight arriving?” He asked, tone softer as not to frighten the girl.

“Tonight,” She answered promptly. You bit back a groan at her answer.

“Have them sent to y/n’s room once they arrive.” The king instructed.

The messenger bowed and left as quickly as she had come, closing the door behind her with a dull clank. You turned to face your parents, both of them wore stern expressions. They had worn this expression before when you had tried to get out of another engagement. Even though you made your way out eventually, you weren’t sure you’d be able to this time.

Groaning, you left the room and slammed the door shut on the way to your room. Dinner was in two hours, you were expected to attend. Since you were leaving tomorrow, your father was going to throw an exquisite feast. Usually, you loved them, the endless scores of people giving you a distraction from the incessant whining of your parents.

But this time, you couldn’t feel less inclined to attend. You were assigned a knight to guard you all the time. Every move of yours was watched by someone. It was attention you were used to, but it wasn’t welcome when you wished to be alone.

The knight you were expecting was similar to the knights surrounding your mother and your father. Men and women who had nothing more to do than fight. More often than not, they had less intelligence than that of a squirrel.

It wouldn’t take much to impress you, but you had certain expectations from a knight assigned to protect you.

———————

Muffled footsteps sounded outside your door, the rushed taking of cooks and waitresses as well as the necessary chatter of messengers. The noise was a welcome distraction from the thoughts inside your head. Golden jewelry glinted in the candlelight in front of you as you slid the elegant earrings through your ear.

A familiar knock at your bedroom door cuts through the sound of voices. The knock was a code between one of your helpers, Mia and you. It was so you always knew who was outside your door. But lately, a few messengers had been copying the knock to gain access. You hadn’t had the time to change the code yet.

“Who is it?” You asked, not bothering to look away from the intricately decorated mirror in front of you.

“It’s me,” The voice confirmed it was Mia.

“The knight has arrived, your father had asked for her to be sent to your room,” Mia explained her disturbance.

“Her?” You muttered, setting down the earring and turning to face the door.

A light frown ghosted over your face. Female knights, or as they were addressed formally, Dames, were not uncommon. But they weren’t common either. Your expectations consisted of a knight who knew too little about how to conduct himself. Not of a woman who had worked to get where she was.

“Send her in,” You instructed.

The door opened, Mia entered, the tall, pale, brunette wore a simple gown, already prepared for the feast. She smiled at you warmly. You smiled back at her, gaze flickering to the knight behind her.

It wasn’t the usual armor the knights wore, rather a sleek, thick, black leather suit with heels and fingerless gloves. Skintight was out of the question for armor, so it wasn’t body-con, but it wasn’t exactly loose either.

The helmet was a heavily stylized variation of the normal armor, a vertical slit rather than the usual horizontal slits. There was a faded black widow mark near the side of it. On the arm, there was a small symbol, it looked like an A but with an arrow. It was a dark silver, barely showing over the black of the suit.

“Princess y/n, this is Dame Natasha Romanoff,” Mia gestured from you to the woman behind her.

The woman, Natasha, bowed, trying to hide her face for a reason you could not understand. Despite the woman’s efforts, you caught sight of tantalizing green eyes. Despite the unusual armor, her manners were impeccable, she didn’t stand up unless she was asked by you.

“Thank you, Mia,” You thanked, smiling at her.

You had been correct to assume she had other duties to attend to. Mia smiled at you gratefully and bowed, exiting the room and closing the door quietly behind her. Natasha stayed in her bow, you weren’t sure how to instruct her.

“You can sit down,” You remarked, gesturing to the ottoman in front of your bed.

The luxurious rugs and furs surrounding it seemed to intimidate her. But Natasha sat down on the ottoman after pushing away the few dresses you’d thrown on it before selecting. The dress you wore was an elegant blue and emerald green gown.

“Do you speak? Or did they send me a mute knight?” You asked, almost joking as to lighten the atmosphere which had suddenly become heavy and awkward. Turning around to face the mirror, you continued to put on jewelry, you still kept one eye on her.

“I speak,” Natasha answered. Her voice was raspy but softer than you had expected a woman of her stature to be. You raised your eyebrows slightly, thinking of a response when you noticed the clasp on your necklace won’t close.

Frustrated, you put it down before trying to put it on again. The knight sitting on your ottoman stared, much to your annoyance.

“Since you’re here, you might as well help,” You commented, exasperation seeping into your tone.

The knight nodded, standing up and walking behind you. You pulled your hair over your shoulder, giving the knight easy access to the necklace. The woman’s breath hitched behind you, indicating her nervousness. You couldn’t help the smirk on your face, you were too similar to your father.

Natasha tried desperately not to stare at you, but you made it almost impossible. The jewelry you wore glinted in the candlelight, illuminating your features and lighting up your eyes. Licking her lips, Natasha focused on the necklace rather than your eyes. Her fingers wandered dangerously close to your skin as she pulled the clasp on the necklace shut.

“Thank you,” You said, a smile on your face as you felt her fingers tremble as she pulled away. A vague memory of your father talking about how you liked to make people nervous, just like him, flies threw your head. Smiling at the memory, you got up from the dressing table.

“Of course,” The knight said, walking away from you and resuming her seat on the ottoman.

You looked at the armor, almost as if it was offending you somehow. It didn’t seem right for someone meant to protect you to wear something so horrid to dinner. No matter how stylish armor was, it was still armor.

Sighing, you gestured towards your closet and your bed, indicating for her to change into one of the dresses. But Natasha did not get the hint.

“There’s spare dresses in there you can change into,” You explained, smoothing out the invisible ruffles in your dress.

Natasha was confused about why you would want her to change into one of your dresses. But it was not her place to question it, so she chose not to.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” The knight refused. You raised an eyebrow as a playful smirk graced your face.

“Can’t or won’t?” You asked, chuckling at your joke.

To say Natasha was surprised was an understatement. The knight was stunned, she had never met someone, let alone a princess who had the kind of ethereal appearance and attitude you had. From what she had heard, you were a graceful, almost godlike. She couldn’t agree more.

But there was more to you than just stunning appearances and gracefulness. The rumors she had heard also told how headstrong you were. All of the rumors about you, no matter how unbelievable, were proving themselves true.

“Suit yourself,” You shrugged when Natasha didn’t respond.

“You’re welcome to stay here or join us at the feast,”

When she didn’t react, you walked past her, your dress barely brushing her armor. But the perfume you wore blasted into her nose, it smelled like rose petals, new candles. Natasha almost stumbled, she corrected herself before you could notice.

You opened the door, letting the smell of freshly baked bread and strong wine greet you as well as the loud talking of people downstairs greet you. All of the attention in the room turned to you, observing your every move. 

Smiling, you descended the stairs to the feast.

Feeling like you were being followed, you turned your head to see Natasha behind you, far enough not to step on your dress but close enough for you to catch another glimpse of her emerald eyes. Doubt filled you, you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to the feeling of being followed everywhere.

———————

The feast went far better than you had expected. Even though the green-eyed knight’s eyes were always on you, you tried to enjoy yourself. When you began to get bored of the usual talking and joking with your father’s friends, the daughter of one of the nobles began flirting with you.

The woman pretended not to know about the marriage proposal, and you didn’t bring it up. The rest of the night you spent talking to her, flirting, and eating the exquisite feast prepared for you.

Natasha wasn’t enjoying herself nearly as much as you were. Her position was near the back of the room, near the other knights. As the other knights ate and jested about the many tournaments they had won, Natasha stayed quiet, her eyes trained on you.

Green eyes burned with jealousy as she watched you flirt with the noble’s daughter. There was no reason for her to be jealous. Her job was to simply protect you from any harm, nothing more. The only reason she was here was because she needed to get away from her life for a few days. Natasha wasn’t here for any other reason.

Once the feast had ended, you politely excused yourself from the women surrounding you. The noble’s daughter seemed to be particularly insistent on staying with you. After catching sight of Natasha looming threateningly, she stopped.

You laughed at the interaction but paid no more heed to it. While walking up the long flights of stairs to your room, you noticed the knight behind you made little to no noise while walking. It was a welcome change from the clunky loudness of the armor of the other knights.

Entering your room, you saw there were three large trunks set in the corner of your room. The dresses which had previously been on your bed weren’t there anymore. Mia was cleaning your room when she noticed you standing in the open doorway.

“Dame Romanoff,” The woman smiled at the knight behind you. “We have arranged for you to sleep in the room adjacent to Princess y/n’s.”

Mia gestured to the wall on her right. Natasha turned and examined the door and nodded to her. There was a helper behind her to cater to her needs, but the knight waved her off.

“Thank you,” Natasha said. The knight bowed before leaving, closing the door to her room behind her with a heavy thud.

You observed her, standing in the empty doorway for some time. Mia knew you were observing her, as you always did with new arrivals into the palace. Seconds passed until you finally turned away from the closed door and entered your room.

“How long has she been a knight for?” You asked, closing the door to your room and going towards the dressing table to take off the endless amount of jewelry adorning you.

“All her life apparently,” Mia answered, taking a seat on the large bed behind you.

“There’s a rumor around that she was trained in the red room.” She said in a hushed tone, scared the secret would leave your room.

Your eyes widened at the implications. The red room was well known to anyone who knew a knight. It was an almost mythical place, only some of the best dames came from there. But you’d heard different rumors. The rumors said it was as ruthless as it was mythical. You found yourself pitying the knight in the adjacent room.

“That would explain the black widow mark on her helmet,” You remarked, recalling the faded black widow mark on the side of her helmet.

“She can’t be,” Mia muttered, her voice barely audible.

You frowned, starting to take off your earrings and tilting your head to look at her. The helper looked as scared as she was in awe. Her eyes wide, staring at the wall adjacent to the green-eyed knight’s.

“Can’t be who?” You asked, turning around to face her.

Rumors were more known to the maids and the helpers than to the nobles or the royal family themselves. A majority of the rumors you had heard had been conveyed through Mia or one of the other helpers.

But this was something new, you’d never seen Mia in such awe.

“There’s a myth about the black widow,” Mia began, fidgeting with her hands in her lap “She’s one of the most famous knights of the group called the Avengers.”

Now you were dumbfounded. The Avengers was a famed group of warriors who feared no one. They had been rumored to take over the valley you had just received a marriage proposal from. Perhaps this was why your parents were adamant about sending you there. A wedding to an Avenger would show how powerful their kingdom was.

“They sent an avenger to protect me?” You verified, surprised they had sent the Black Widow to protect you. Turning around to face the mirror, you continued taking off your jewelry.

“It’s impressive,”

“To say the least,” You remarked, struggling with the clasp on the necklace Natasha had tied for you. Mia chuckled behind you, moving to help you with the necklace. She took it off and placed it in one of the drawers of the table silently.

“We’ll find out how good their suitor is when we get there,” You stated, taking off all your jewelry and looking at yourself in the mirror. Licking your lips, you finished taking off the makeup and sat on the bed, staring at the wall joining your room to Natasha’s

You doubted you would ever understand why you were assigned an Avenger to protect you. All you had was hope that this would end better than you expected.

———————

Tomorrow came sooner than you had expected. You’d awoken to helpers surrounding you to help you get ready for the travel. A majority of your things were already in the large caravan for your travel. Natasha was in charge of security and had taken some of your father’s best knights with her.

The valley was a day’s travel from your kingdom, you were expected just after sunrise tomorrow. You dressed in a simple, rust-colored gown with a black cloak over it. The caravan in the middle was yours, it was driven by a knight you didn’t know.

Mia sat in your caravan to give you company, she talked about the rumors she had heard of the valley that had been occupied. It was said that their celebrations were often but spectacular each time. They were some of the richest and the most powerful.

The day had passed rather slowly, the only time travel had stopped was for meals which consisted of heavily spiced meat, wine, bread, and cheese. The bread was a little soggy, as a result of a water canister spilling into the bag.

Travel was the most despicable part of journeying to a suitor. The food was horrid, there was little to no privacy in the tents which were set up. You had your tent, which was near the circle of tents that had been arranged.

It felt like you were being watched by everyone in the camp, you found it almost impossible to fall asleep. Dark fantasies of being kidnapped in the night kept you well awake past midnight. Eventually, you fell asleep to the sounds of the forest you were camped in.

However, you were interrupted from your peaceful sleep by the loud yet familiar clanging of swords and shouting. Opening the flap to your tent, you looked outside to see moonlight glinting off of swords, creating a silver silhouette against the dark of the camp.

One of the men lit up a lantern, the dim light exposing three men fighting one knight. But the knight wasn’t one of your father’s knights.

It was Natasha.

The green-eyed knight called for the rest of the men to tie them up. Her voice left no room for argument. It was evident she was able to hold them off by herself. The rest of the men still pulled the men back and tied them up, carrying them off to an unforeseeable punishment.

Lighting up the lantern next to you, you let the light wash over your face, making your presence known. Natasha didn’t hesitate to bow, but stood up and tucked her sword back in the sheath.

“You are safe Princess y/n,” Natasha assured, waving the rest of the knights to return to their tents.

They did so promptly, but Mia came out of her tent to make sure you were alright. She watched the interaction between you and the green-eyed knight.

“I could tell,” You remarked, keeping your composure despite the slight tremble which threatened to take over. Your fears were beginning to come back to you, taking a calming breath, you noticed the men in the camp staring, waiting for your next move

“Mia,” You called out, turning to face her. The woman made a curt bow and waited for your command.

“Move her tent nearer to mine,” You ordered, your tone authoritative like your father’s. The few people left outside glanced nervously from you to Natasha. Though your tone demanded obedience, they weren’t sure of your reasoning behind this action.

“For safety,” You explained, and they got to work.

Natasha’s tent was placed promptly next to yours. She bowed and climbed inside her tent, unsure of what to make of this interaction.

You looked at the tent flap for a few moments after Natasha had left. The green-eyed knight had shown herself capable of protecting you at every point. Somehow, it made you feel safer as you tried to fall asleep.

The fantasies of being dragged away in the night were quelled, lulling you to sleep.

———————

The arrival to the valley was later than you had expected. Delays were caused by the constant demand for breakfast while seated instead of in caravans. As a result, your arrival was just past lunch. The sun had long since risen, but it seemed like it was about to set soon

The golden rays of the sun lit up the heavily decorated entrance to the kingdom. At the front, several crowds were cheering, trying to catch a glance of the famed princess. It seemed they had all heard about you, perhaps more than you had heard about yourself.

Once you’d reached the castle gates, the horses were stopped for you and your company to step down while the horses were parked. The caravan you were in was set in front of the main gates. At the gates, two blonde men wore a similar leather armor standing there. Behind him, there were several knights dressed in similar attire, all with their helmets on

The caravan stopped, the door was opened by Mia for you to step outside. Through the open doorway, you could see the crowds of people waiting for you to step outside. It was frightening and exhilarating.

Smiling curtly, you stepped out of the caravan, your posture perfect as you walked towards the blonde men.

One of them had shoulder-length blonde hair, some of it tied up, almost framing his green eyes. His armor looked heavier, almost like it was made of metal, but it too had the Avengers symbol in the same place.

The one with shorter hair had a large white star in the center of his chest, the Avengers symbol on the arm of his suit, signifying that he was an Avenger. His deep blue eyes flickered from caravan to caravan, focusing on you as you stepped out.

“Well, I didn’t expect such a welcome,” You smiled, stopping in front of the men.

Under the helmet, Natasha wore a smirk, she had known the Avengers would throw a large celebration for your arrival. But she hadn’t expected it to surprise you.

The one with short hair smirked and introduced himself as Steve Rogers. The man behind him introduced himself as Thor, making a show of taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it.

“Welcome to our kingdom Princess Y/n,” Thor greeted, his voice deep and thunderous. You smiled and took your hand out of his reach.

“Thank you,” You smiled.

Steve made a gesture for the knights behind him to clear a pathway into the castle. The ordered into lines, surrounding the edges of the pathway while you passed through them. Natasha walked behind you, watching the knights around her intently. Mia followed Natasha, unsure of where else to be.

“The twins will show you and Romanoff your rooms,” Steve said, walking you, Natasha and Mia into the castle.

“The twins?” Mia asked, moving so she was walking next to the green-eyed knight.

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,” Steve explained as the five of you walked into the castle.

“Thank you,” You said, a courtesy rather than a genuine sentiment.

“And there is a feast tonight where you would meet your suitor,” His smile seemed to light up with a smile when he mentioned that. But he was quickly called away by someone. Excusing himself with a curt bow, he went to deal with different matters.

You led your company to where you assumed the twins would be. Mia followed you, confused as to where you were heading.

“Isn’t the suitor supposed to be Rogers?” Mia asked, moving past Natasha to walk next to you. The green eyes knight snorted but coughed to cover it up before you could ask. You turned to face the knight, a light frown on your face.

“That’s Captain Rogers, but no.” Natasha corrected, waving off the notion. “He’s married to Barnes.”

“Then whom am I here to wed?” You asked, confusion seeping into your tone.

“I wouldn’t say wed just yet,” Mia muttered.

You side-eyed the remark, not wanting to explain the severity of this marriage proposal. But the answer to your question interested you more than explaining.

“Carol Danvers,” Natasha answered, her voice tight and strained.

—————

Candlelight reflected off of the numerous mirrors and gold objects in the room, giving it a golden lighting. Mia sat on the ottoman, already prepared for the feast as she talked to you. Most of what she spoke of was pointless, but she was only doing it to fill the silence. It was one of the reasons you preferred her company. You never had to settle into an uncomfortable silence.

Though, uncomfortable silences came more often since Natasha was assigned to protect you. The knight barely spoke and never took off her helmet in your presence. It intrigued you, but it wasn’t your place to ask her to take it off.

Mia’s rambling filled the room while you put on your jewelry. Mia had already helped you with your makeup and putting on the dress. You still found jewelry the hardest and most annoying part about dressing up.

Unbeknownst to you, the knight in the corner of your room was staring at you, unable to take her eyes off of you. Natasha hadn’t ever met someone like you, someone who was gorgeous and carried it like a weapon. The green eyes knight was enamored with you, but she could never tell you.

When you finally got the clasp set, you sighed and got up. You turned around, giving a dazzling smile to them. Natasha took in a silent breath, admiring how the black and gold gown looked on you. The lighting flickered across your face, illuminating your eyes, and highlighting your features.

“Alright, how does this look for a dinner with the most famous warriors throughout the land?” You asked, a smile on your face as you asked the little company you had.

Mia immediately started fawning, as she usually did. Though you appreciate the barrage of compliments she was giving you, you would appreciate a change. You noticed Natasha hadn’t said anything and tilted your head to the side, spreading your arms away from your waist.

“Romanoff? Or can I call you Natasha?” You asked, addressing the knight in the corner of the room.

Natasha licked her lips under the helmet, unsure of what to say. You waited patiently, glancing down at Mia, who had turned around to face the knight.

“Natasha is alright, and you look beautiful,” Natasha finally said, the compliment not near enough to describe how you looked to her.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” Mia remarked, standing up and brushing off her dress. You laughed and smoothed out the invisible ruffles in your dress.

“Now, let’s attend this feast I’ve heard so much about.” You smiled, turning from Mia to your knight.

Natasha nodded and opened the door for both of you, unable to take her eyes off of you. You pretended not to notice the staring, but you turned slightly to look at her when you caught sight of emerald green eyes under her helmet.

———————

The table was set lavishly. Different sorts of meats lay on the table, adorned with different types of ales and wines. Above it all, there were intricate decorations and candles set to illuminate the large dining hall.

The table was large enough to seat almost 20 people, but there were only twelve seated. You sat at the bottom end of the table, Mia on your left and Thor at your right. Thor wore a darker variant of his usual armor while Mia wore a delicately embroidered gown. The Maximoff twins sat across from each other, the girl, Wanda, wore a scarlet gown with dark velvet patterns. Pietro wore a light blue outfit, complimenting his bright eyes. Jarvis, or his nickname, Vision, sat next to Wanda wearing a similar outfit to Wanda.

There was an empty seat between them and the youngest members of the Avengers. Shuri, who was T’challa’s sister, wore a complex corset in white and black. She sat across from Peter Parker, who was said to be the youngest. Behind them, Sam was seated, he wore a dark outfit. Behind him, Steve and Bucky were seated on either side of your suitor.

Carol Danvers outshone the group surrounding her with ease. The blonde wore a peacock blue, floor-length gown, the back of which reached down to the middle of her back. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before, everything around you was like nothing you had ever seen before.

The feast was extravagant. During the first half an hour, you resorted to first names rather than listing their ranking and their full names.

Your knight and an archer you were told was Clint, had gone to a bar in the corner of town. You weren’t surprised by their absence, but you were confused by it. The rest of the group dismissed their behavior, speaking of their retirement, they were the oldest members alongside Steve and Tony who was retired.

Throughout the meal, you found the group to be friendlier towards you than you had expected. Past suitors only cared about your status and your appearance. Here, they seemed to care about what kind of person you were rather than superficial needs.

You found yourself enjoying yourself, laughing, and joking with the people surrounding you. The comfort which came from speaking with them was absent in speaking to the friends of your father. It was comforting in a way you weren’t used to yet.

“So y/n,” Wanda interrupted, turning to face you and resting her chin on her palm, blue-green eyes peering into yours.

“I’ve heard your parents are trying to find you a suitor,” Her voice dripped with suggestion towards the blonde at the head of the table.

Silence befell the table, they turned to look at you, stopping all conversations. You ran your tongue over your teeth, smirking and reaching forwards to take a sip of your drink. Every action you made carefully observed by the group around you.

“They are,” You answered, taking a sip of your drink as you pretended to be oblivious to the evident implication.

Conversations started again, the main topic was you and your kingdom. You smiled at the attention, far too used to it already. Looking across the table, you saw hazel eyes fixated on your every move. Tilting your head to the side, you sent a subtle wink towards her.

Carol beamed, raising her drink for a toast to you. Glasses clinked, voices sounded through the dining hall. The night was spent talking, Carol spoke to you often, asking you questions, slipping in flirtatious comments.

A week went by this way. Days were spent in the castle, talking to the group you were starting to become so familiar with. The nights were spent in lavish feasts which often lasted till late morning.

Letters were sent from your father to make up your mind under a month. The pressure was more imminent as days passed, but you paid no heed to it. But the letters were beginning to be more aggressive. He began to threaten you, his pressure on this marriage like an impending doom.

Carol spent most of her time with you, flirting, asking questions, talking to you. There were countless subtle touches, her hand brushing against yours, numerous cheek kisses. The attention bordered the line between overbearing and enjoyable.

By the end of the week, T’challa had arrived back to the castle from a battle. He wore a black cutaway coat with silver lines adorning the sleeves and the shoulders. The welcome for him was as, if not more, extravagant than the welcome for you.

On his return, a celebration was announced.

The nobles of the kingdom were expected to attend. More wine and ale than you had ever seen was imported into the castle for the famed celebration.

The night of the celebration was more extravagant than you could have ever dreamed of. Golden chandeliers were hanging from the rooftops, bathing the rooms in golden light. The main dining hall was set with lavish dishes from faraway lands.

The table was set for twenty. All of the Avengers were present, except for Natasha who had remained adamant about not attending the feast. However, you caught glances of her passing through the halls, watching you.

There were many new faces, a dark-haired woman named Valkyrie who seemed to be close friends with Thor and Carol. Valkyrie had chosen to wear a sort of leather armor with an elegant skirt flowing along her legs.

A few relatives of T’challa were present as well, celebrating his victory as well as his arrival. His mother had worn an elegant white ballgown, his sister, Shuri had chosen on a gown with vibrant colors and an elegant yet practical design. He had chosen an outfit similar to what he wore the day he arrived, minimalistic but regal.

Outfits for the party were all custom made, showing the design and taste of each person. Carol, on the other hand, had worn a peacock blue outfit, straight fit trousers, and a white and gold shirt underneath the blue jacket.

The rest of the Avengers had chosen their colors. Steve and Bucky had chosen matching outfits consisting of red, blue, and black. Sam had chosen a dark yet regal outfit with a red coat, similar to Steve’s.

Wanda and Vision had chosen a set of striking outfits with scarlet and a light yellow. The gown Wanda wore was the envy of most around you. But your entrance in the room had changed the attention in the room, all of it was directed towards you. Your gown was floor-length, a beautiful embroidery of golden roses on top of favorite/color.

Wine and beer were served, you drank more than usual. You got tipsy, more than the people surrounding you. Carol had already moved to your side of the table, sitting next to you, her thigh brushing yours.

Flirtatious comments subtly touch and bright smiles filled the night. Everyone around you saw how intoxicated you were. Many advised for you to leave the feast, but you refused the advice. Instead, sticking to Carol’s side as she spoke to you.

The blonde saw how intoxicated you were, but she wasn’t taking advantage of you. Carol was adamant about making sure you were alright, she took the drinks away from you to prevent any further accidents. You were leaning on her shoulder, laughing as you set your hand on her thigh.

Neither of you noticed the jealous green eyes which drifted in and out of the room. Natasha’s behavior during the recent feasts was found strange by many of the group. But none of them knew why they assumed she was retiring soon.

The mask was never taken off near you.

“Do you wanna go back to my room?” You whispered into her ear, voice raspy and low.

The act you were putting on, of being an overly intoxicated princess who couldn’t hold her drinks, seemed to be working on everyone around you. Most of the glasses of wine you had taken were water.

“Sure,” Carol agreed, smiling at you.

The blonde helped you up, your arm rested on her shoulders, Carol’s arm wrapped around your waist. You stumbled across the steps, laughing, trying to keep the little composure you had left. Never had you ever let yourself get this intoxicated, but you thought you could use the courage.

Behind you, the soft footsteps of Natasha were barely heard over your intoxicated laughter.

“Let’s get you into bed,” Carol said, leading you into your room and setting you down on your bed.

The door behind her shut with a soft click, locking Natasha out.

The green-eyed knight fidgeted outside your door, waiting for a sound, anything. Natasha assumed she knew why you brought Carol to your room, but she hoped she was wrong.

But Natasha’s assumptions were wrong.

Carol wasn’t going to take advantage of your drunken state. The blonde was gratuitous enough to help you into bed.

The blankets were laid on top of you, most of the candles snuffed out. The only light in the room consisted of the lamp by your bedside and the moonlight leaking through the windows.

“Why don’t you want me?” You asked, reaching out for the blonde by your side.

“I want you,” Carol answered, resting her arms on top of yours to tuck them into the heavy furs.

“But I don’t want to be your drunken mistake,”

A frown crossed your face, but you decided not to argue. Instead, pouting and setting your head onto the pillow. Carol’s hazel eyes looked into yours, she sighed and began to get up when you spoke again.

“Do you think we could get married someday?” You blurted, stopping the blonde in her tracks.

Carol stumbled but turned around to face you. Tilting her head to the side, she crossed the room in a few strides to get to you. Weighing the answer in her mind, she moved the hair out of your face.

“Maybe, ask me that when you aren’t drunk,” Carol answered, a smile on her face.

Accepting the answer, you stared up at her. Your composure was almost gone, you weren’t the ethereal princess who everyone knew about. Now, you were just a woman who wanted another woman.

“I think you’re really hot by the way,” You said, trying to pull her into bed with you using her sleeve.

“Feeling’s mutual,” She pulled the blanket up to your shoulder and smiled at you.

When you didn’t say anything else, she leaned down to kiss the top of your head. After wishing you a goodnight, she left your room. Glancing back at your form one more time, she smiled and opened the door.

A blast of heat, light, and the smell of alcohol hit her. In front of her, a dark figure stood there. Surprised, she closed the door, as she recognized the armor.

“Natasha?” Carol asked, confirming her suspicions when she noticed the black widow mark on the top of her head.

"What are you doing here?”

Natasha stumbled slightly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. The blonde frowned at the helmet, not knowing why the knight was adamant on keeping it on around you. Natasha usually avoided the suitors who came to the castle, for her to spend her time around you with the helmet on was a surprise to her.

“I, I’m supposed to protect y/n.” Natasha stuttered, clenching her jaw as she tried to hide her emotions.

Carol raised a perfect eyebrow at the reasoning. The blonde expected Natasha to correct herself, but she had no such intentions. Sighing, Carol patted her shoulder.

“She’s in the most heavily guarded castle in the kingdom, she’s safe,” Carol assured, rolling her eyes and returning to the party downstairs.

Natasha ignored Carol’s assurances and opened the door to your room, closing it behind her quickly. Unable to see in the dim lighting, she used a matchstick to light the lamp on the side of the door. The room was flooded with candlelight.

You were in the corner of the room, attempting to take off your dress but failing. The corset was near impossible to take off, you had needed Mia’s assistance to simply put it on. To take it off by yourself presented itself as a near-impossible task.

“Greetings,” You muttered when you noticed the green-eyed knight standing in your room.

Before Natasha could ask you if you needed anything, you interrupted her and thrust your back towards her so she could help you. Confused, the redhead took a step back, colliding with the heavy door behind her.

“Can you help me with this?” You pointed to the clasp of the corset you were unable to undo.

Clenching her jaw, Natasha undid the clasp. The corset and the rest of the dress fell off your back and pulled at your feet, revealing the thin garments you wore underneath it. They consisted of a sleeveless single silk slip on which ended just shy of your knees.

Around Natasha, you dropped the act of being an intoxicated princess. Changing back into the woman everyone knew to be an elegant princess. But you had too much alcohol in you to be yourself. Stumbling, you fell onto your bed as you pulled pins out of your hair.

Natasha was about to leave now that she had seen you were alright, but your voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Stay,”

“I’m not-” Natasha began, but you cut her off.

“It’s an order,” You commanded, using your authoritative tone, but softened it. “stay.”

Looking up at her with pleading eyes, the person you were right now was the opposite of the woman Natasha had grown used to. You were in no form elegant or poised, you were tired and drunk. But you still kept up your composure, almost as if clinging onto a pedestal.

“Looks like I don’t have a choice then,” Natasha turned around, sitting down on the leather ottoman on the side of the bed. She ran her fingers through the soft fur of the blankets, keeping her distance from you.

Laying down on the bed, you face the knight at your bedside. Sighing, you reached out for her arm and pulled her so she was seated next to you.

Natasha swallowed, licking her lips nervously under the helmet. Her gaze slipped to your face, you had taken off most of the makeup you had been wearing for the feast. But you looked ethereal, the moonlight reflecting in your eyes and softening your features. The candlelight illuminated the other side of your face, creating a soft gradient across your features.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You asked, voice soft and unsure as you drew Natasha out of her trance.

“Of course,” Natasha nodded, her voice muffled slightly by the mask on her face. She was adamant as to not take it off around you. Her fear of your judgment overriding her hatred of the helmet.

“I don’t want Carol,”

Your secret surprised Natasha, her eyes widened drastically. The knight leaned back on the ottoman, almost as if slapped. Opening and closing her mouth, she decided to ask why you are deciding to marry her.

“Then why-,”

“Because she’s the best option there is,” You cut her off, seeming more sober as the minutes passed.

Natasha was unable to respond, your response was something she had never even dreamed of. She assumed you always got what you wanted. It was the persona you always held up, a beautiful princess who knew what she wanted and how to get it. This contradicted your persona entirely.

“There are people that are worse than her,” You rambled into the silence, “She’s attractive, smart, strong and powerful,”

The green eyes knight pursed her lips under the mask. Reality began to set in, Natasha didn’t have nearly as much power or influence as Carol did. If you were to be with her, your father would not spare you. As it is, Natasha had seen the aggressive letters he kept sending you, you weren’t as careful to hide them.

Exhausted from the lack of response, you faced her with a furious glare.

“Say something,” You demanded, watching Natasha turn to face you, catching another glimpse of emerald eyes. They were glinting in the moonlight, they showed with a sadness you hadn’t seen in them before.

“What would you like me to say?” Natasha asked, her thinly veiled jealousy beginning to show. Flinching at her hard tone, you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Anything,” You said exasperatedly, gesturing to her and chuckling groggily. “You’re supposed to be my knight in shining armor so to say,”

Natasha bit back a laugh, considering it rude to laugh at the princess she was supposed to protect. Unable to hold back a chuckle, she began to pull the blanket up to your shoulders for you to sleep.

“You’re drunk,” She stated, biting back another laugh at your state.

“Noticed that,” You muttered, yawning and turning to bury your face into the pillows.

Natasha observed you, your relaxed state as well as the thick furs laying above you. Seeing there was no reason for her to stay, she began to leave. Her soft footsteps caught your attention, you turned to face her.

“I thought I told you to stay,” You muttered sleepily, eyes half-closed as you looked at her. The green-eyed knight turned around, tilting her head to the side.

“And do what?” Natasha asked, gesturing around her. You shrugged, sighing, and burrowing yourself into the pillows around you.

“Protect me,” You muttered into your pillow, finally succumbing to the lullaby of sleep.

Natasha began to protest, but you were fast asleep. Sighing, she settled on the ottoman near your bed, watching you sleep as thoughts raced through her mind.

———————

Light from the morning sun flooded the room, reflecting off of the mirrors in your room, effectively waking you up. Groaning, you shoved the furs off of you and looked around. A headache presented itself, causing dizziness.

Almost falling back down on the bed, you glanced around the room for a glass of water. It seemed the few drinks you drank had affected you more than you had expected. Your door opened to reveal a certain green-eyed knight carrying a tray with a loaf of bread and a cup of tea.

Using her foot to nudge the ottoman next to your table, she set it down on top of it and handed you the cup of tea. You swirled the cup of tea, observing the sediment in the bottom. The smell was unfamiliar to you.

“What’s in it?” You asked, unable to identify what kind of tea it was.

“Chamomile,” Natasha answered. You winced, chamomile was one of your least favorite flavors of tea.

“It’s supposed to help.”

Taking a sip of the tea, you found it wasn’t as bad as you expected. Mint was mixed into it to give it a nicer flavor to it. It was the only reason you were able to drink it. The tea was also the perfect temperature.

Sipping the tea, you began to recall the events of yesterday. Carol had come to your room, but she had left. You’d spoken to Natasha about something, you weren’t sure what you had said. All you could remember was it was something you didn’t want to let anyone else know.

Your face paled, you didn’t know what you had told her.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked, noticing your face turn pale as you stared at the wall in front of you. Clearing your throat, you turned to face her, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“What, what did I say yesterday?” You stammered, fear seeping into you as your chest tightened.

“Nothing important,” Natasha waved it off, lying through her teeth.

A lifetime in court with lying nobles had taught you how to smell a lie from a mile off. The signs were clear now as ever.

“No, tell me, now,” You demanded, tone imposing and commanding.

“Still ordering me around, are we?” The knight joked, trying desperately to lighten the mood. What you had told her last night could potentially ruin you, she could understand your panic.

“No, I didn’t,” You stuttered, struggling to correct the situation.

Ordering people was what your father did, you did not want to be your father. Not now, not ever. Groaning, you rubbed your temples, unable to say anything without making the situation worse than it already was.

“Fine,” Natasha muttered, collecting her thoughts as you turned to face her.

“You, you said you didn’t want to marry Carol,” She stuttered, trying to word it in the best way. The sentence seemed not to offend you or surprise you. But you were intrigued by what else you had spoken in your intoxicated state.

“Did I say why?”

“Because she was the best option,” Natasha answered without hesitation. Perhaps too quickly, but you didn’t seem to notice.

Clenching your jaw, you leaned back to face the ceiling. Thoughts ran through your head faster than you could process. What you had told Natasha wasn’t false, but it wasn’t something you should have told her. Your words could ruin you, but the green-eyed knight proved herself trustworthy.

“I wasn’t lying for sure,” You chuckled, facing the rock ceiling above you.

You were aware of the emerald eyes fixed on you, but you chose to ignore it.

“I thought it was just a drunken mistake,” Natasha murmured, letting her thoughts slip into her words. Her eyes were fixed on you, watching every action. Your lips twitched up into a smile, a genuine smile.

“No, I don’t lie when I’m drunk apparently,” You smiled, looking at her.

Seconds passed, your smile faded as you turned your attention back to the cup of tea in your hands. The knight had been right, chamomile was perfect for your state. It had helped with your headache and the thirst.

But you felt suffocated. Everything was closing in on you. Your father’s demands for you to wed, Carol’s proposal, the attention. You could barely breathe.

“We can go get breakfast,” Natasha suggested, noticing how you were still sitting on your bed despite finishing the tea.

You groaned at the implications. Breakfast was around the group you were growing overly familiar to. Their company you could handle, but Carol was another matter. The blonde would want to discuss the proposal and other matters you didn’t want to deal with.

“Or we could go away from this for a little bit,” Natasha offered, seeing how you wanted to get out of the castle.

You snorted in laughter at the suggestion and turned to face her.

“With you looking like you just came out of Lancelot,” You gestured to her outfit sarcastically, “I’m fine thank you,”

Natasha rolled her eyes at your antics. She knew she needed to take off the helmet to get you out of here. Her fear of judgment was slowly dwindling when she saw how you were looking around the room for a way to get out undetected.

A loud sigh from the knight’s direction caused you to turn towards her. Two of her fingers were caught underneath the bottom of the helmet, indicating she was about to take it off. Her hand went in a sweeping motion up her face.

The motion slowly revealing milky white skin, full lips, and gorgeous emerald eyes you had grown used to being watched by. Rust hair fell from the helmet, framing her face and falling onto her shoulders.

Sunlight reflected off the mirrors and the gold and onto her face, giving it a golden lighting. The light illuminated her features, lighting up her emerald eyes. Her eyes fixated on you, gauging your reaction. Her fear of your judgment taking over as she stared at your face.

You licked your lips, admiring her features. Everything from her rust hair, to her flawless skin and emerald eyes, entranced you.

Looking at her, she was someone you wanted to run away with. Never had you ever thought about running away from this life. It was the only thing you knew, the politics, the complications, the attention, you’d made your home in it.

Something stirred inside you, you never thought you could feel this way. You never thought you could see someone who looks as tired, as lost as you do. Natasha wanted to get away, you could see it from her expression. It was the same expression you wore daily.

Emerald eyes flickered up to yours, finally looking you in the eyes. You swallowed, weighing your words inside your head.

“So,” You began, your voice higher than usual. Emotions were beginning to flicker across your face, you inhaled sharply to stop showing your emotions, adamant on keeping your composure.

Clearing your throat, you looked up at the redhead for guidance. You hardly ever looked up to anyone to tell you what to do. But you were out of your field, Natasha knew what she was doing better than you did. You guessed she had done this before.

“I have some commoner clothing you can change into,” Natasha said, lips twitching up into a smirk. The redhead was enjoying this exchange of power from you to her. You coughed and slid off of the bed.

“Right,”

———————

Natasha’s commoner clothing consisted of a simple tunic and loose pants. You picked endlessly at the discolored tunic, confused by the discolored garment they wore. The redhead had made sure you weren’t wearing any jewelry as not to attract attention.

Your clothes made little to no sense. Why must you wear such a drab garment just to get out of the castle? Natasha walked out of the bathroom wearing a similar outfit, her hair tied behind her head elegantly.

“What sort of abomination am I wearing?” You demanded, picking at the threads coming out of the tunic.

The green-eyed knight rolled her eyes and sighed.

“It’s a tunic and pants,” Natasha explained, gesturing to your outfit while heading towards the door.

“Exactly, abomination,” You muttered, following her out the door of your room and through a hallway which you assumed led out of the castle.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Natasha led you out of the castle.

The clothes you wore, the lack of makeup and jewelry, none of it was something you were used to. Sneaking out wasn’t something you had ever done before. It terrified you, but you weren’t willing to show Natasha that.

——————

Inside the castle, you were dignified and respected. Out here, where no one knew who you were, it was the opposite. They treated you as just another commoner. It shocked you.

What shocked you most was the filthy streets, the wonder of the street entertainers, the talent of the musicians, the smell of the food sold by the street vendors. Natasha had bought you some meat and bread from a nearby street vendor, it was spiced better than the meat in the castle. The bread was fresher and better tasting than anything you’d eaten before.

But the conditions they lived in were near disgusting. Waste and garbage lined the streets, puddles of water, and other liquids filled the potholes. It was disgusting.

Roaming around the streets, you watched everything in wonder. Never did you have the opportunity to roam the streets this way.

Natasha walked by your side, watching anyone who dared to give you a second glance. Even without the makeup, the gowns, and the jewelry, you were easily the most beautiful person Natasha had ever seen. It didn’t surprise her the few posters lining the walls with drawings of you.

The drawings emphasized the jewelry and the wealth surrounding you. It did little to enhance your features or show the sharpness of your eyes. The drawing made it impossible to relate you to the princess they had heard so much about.

When you went to look at a near street vendor selling handmade art and embroidery, Natasha noticed a few men who had been there at the last street vendor. They seemed not to be doing anything. Surrounded by the crowds of people, they stuck out by sitting still.

Natasha knew something was wrong when they began to walk towards you.

Eyes widening, she took your elbow and dragged you into a nearby valley despite your protests. The alley smelled of human waste as well as stale food. Your nose wrinkled, you opened your mouth to insult Natasha’s actions, but she interrupted you.

“There are people following us,” Natasha stated, eyes boring into yours as she pushed you further into the alley, “Unless you want to show them who you are, stay quiet.”

You raised an eyebrow at her actions. Even though you weren’t in control of what happened around you, you still had your dignity. Natasha could see her actions had been to command, it wasn’t her place to order you. The redhead doubted if anyone could tell you what to do.

“Princess,” Natasha smirked, using your title to push you against the wall.

You licked your lips nervously, watching the action tantalize Natasha as she glanced behind you to where she had seen the men. The redhead’s hands rested on your shoulders, ensuring you didn’t attempt to escape.

“Are they still there?” You asked, turning your head to see.

“Yes,” Natasha answered, using her thumb to guide your face back to look at her. Frowning at the action, you pursed your lips.

“How are you-”

Natasha cut you off by pressing her lips to yours, pushing you further into the wall. The stones on the brick wall hurt your back, but you barely noticed. Her lips moved over yours, her bottom lip driving into your mouth as your breaths mingled.

Eyes fluttered shut against each other as she moved to tilt her face against yours, lips moving in sync. Hands found their way to your neck, twining themselves into your hair, pulling you closer. Your hands rested on her hips, unsure to pull her closer or push her away.

It felt too euphoric to end, but it wasn’t right to do this. Your responsibilities the furthest thing in your mind as you kissed the green-eyed knight.

Natasha pulled away first, breathless as she turned around to see the men following you. Stunned, your eyes began to flutter open to look into emerald eyes. The situation finally striking you, your eyes widened as you tried to push her away.

“What on Earth was that?” You demanded, voice hushed.

You lifted your chin stubbornly, trying to hold onto some golden pedestal. The redhead smirked, licking her lips and looking around.

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Natasha answered, a smirk on her face.

The smirk quickly dissipated when she noticed the men were closing in on her. They must have noticed the drawing and correlated you to it

Clenching your jaw as a blush began to creep up your face, you began to demand to go back to the castle. The stone walls guaranteed you security, here, you were out in the open.

“They are still around,” Natasha hissed, trying to get you to stop talking.

Glaring at her, you pushed her away, intending to go back to the castle. But before you could move, you saw Natasha get pulled away by one of the men following you.

A flash of red hair, she was on top of the man, hitting him on the head aggressively and taking him out. The motion attracted the attention of a few other men in the pungent alley. Natasha knew she couldn’t take all of them, she tried to drag you away from the alley.

But more men had recognized you blocking your path. They all seemed to know they could get rich just by kidnapping you.

Natasha stood in front of you, pulling you to stand behind her. You clenched your jaw, cowering behind her, trusting the green-eyed knight to protect you. Fear began to take over you, escape from this seemed a long lost prospect.

One of the men charged at you, Natasha pushed you aside and went to the other side, delivering a kick to his head. The other men began to charge towards her. You tumbled in the corner, scared, unsure of what was happening around you.

Almost five men were attacking Natasha, fear began to creep through you. If she died, you would be alone again. Never would you have the chance to experience something you never had.

Deciding to reveal your identity, you rushed out into the street and commanded one of the knights to help. They ignored you at first, but when you pushed towards them the little jewelry you’d worn around your neck, they finally began to obey.

A few of them rushed into it, pulling them apart. Many of them tried to run away, but few succeeded. They were pinned to the ground while knights shouted at them to stay down. You paid little heed

Blood covered the floor, your breath hitched as you ran towards the source. On the ground, there was a sight you hoped you wouldn’t see. A knife stuck out of Natasha’s side, dark, red blood pooled around it. Natasha was cradling the knife, demanding weakly that it not be pulled out.

You took charge of the situation, pushing their commander aside to help her. Ordering some of the knights to create a makeshift gurney, you instructed the commander to put Natasha on the gurney after wrapping the wound.

Panic began to seep through you. Blood was everywhere, on the ground in the alley, on the makeshift gurney. But all if it was on your hands. Every drop of blood Natasha lost was on your hands. If you hadn’t been adamant to escape, this wouldn’t be happening.

But now was not the time to pity yourself and your decisions, no matter how foolish they are in hindsight.

One of the street vendors knew how to deal with wounds, they applied pressure and bandaged it not to bleed out. No one around you dared question your orders or your authority. The tone of voice you used was only one they had heard from nobles or the Avengers themselves. It was feared and obeyed.

Angrily, you commanded the knights to speed up to get Natasha back to the castle. The redhead was twisting and turning in the gurney, trying to stop the bleeding. The cloth on the gurney was soaked in blood, it began to drip on the floor you passed, leaving a trail.

Knights pushed people aside to get to the doctors which occupied the left-wing of the castle. You followed them, instructing messengers to inform the Avengers of the situation and to get the doctors ready. Your voice shook despite the authority it exuberated.

After preparing everything, you went to the side of the gurney to speak with Natasha. But the redhead was unconscious, blood still leaking out of the wound. You might never get your chance.

Doctors pushed you out of the room, stating they needed to operate immediately. Despite your protests, your commands to be let in. They refused to let you stay. You finally let them push you out of the room.

There were a few leather couches for people to wait. It should have been comfortable, but it felt like needles.

Bright sunlight streamed through the windows, boots clicking sounded on the stone ground as you paced. No sounds were coming through the room, the blame of all of this was falling on you. You were sure everyone had been notified of this incident and were coming down immediately.

The first to see you was Carol, she ran into the room, furious. Her clothes the same she wore in court.

“Y/n, what the hell were you thinking?” Carol demanded, voice deep and furious.

You whirled around angrily, no one could speak to you in that tone. It made you feel small, controlled. The same way your father spoke to you. Never did you want to feel the same way.

“Don’t forget who you’re speaking to,” You shouted, expression, tone authoritative and angry.

The clothes you wore did little to compliment the famous princess. But you were still in control, not Carol, not your father, you.

The blonde flinched visibly, her features softening.

Biting your lip, you sighed and leaned against the wall. The way you spoke, everything about the way you were acting, it reminded you of your father. The mere idea of becoming like him was despised.

“My apologies,” You licked your lips and sighed, sitting down in the chair in front of the room. “I’m just worried,”

Carol sighed, you looked smaller, worried. You were the shell of the person she had grown to known. Natasha getting hurt, the idea of her not being there for you was ruining you. The blonde could never hope to get you to care for her this way.

But it wasn’t the time to talk to you about it.

“So am I,” Carol sat down next to you.

Sitting next to you, she kept enough distance as not to touch you. Her fear of angering you again prevented her from speaking. When she found out about Natasha leaving the castle, panic had set in. The same panic was consuming her now. But Carol knew Natasha would be alright, she had to be. The redhead couldn’t leave you alone like this.

Hours passed in silence, many members of the Avengers flitted in and out of the room. Their gazes held to blame and pity for you. The mixture infuriating, but there was nothing you could do. The blame was on you. A few gazes stayed for some time, but they left eventually. Carol was the only one staying with you while you waited for Natasha.

Carol made up her mind to convince you to rest for a few hours when she noticed the sun begin to go down. But before she could speak, Dr. Cho exited the room with a relieved smile on her face. She reassured both of you that Natasha would be okay. Her loss of blood had led to her unconsciousness, but she would wake in a matter of hours.

Until then, Cho advised both of you to rest.

You smiled and watched as Carol let her off of duty, her dazzling smile and calm composure assuring them everything was alright. The rest of the doctors, clearly exhausted from the operation, also left.

Relief flooded you, you leaned back in your seat, resting your head against the cold stone wall. Your eyes began to relax as you breathe deeper. Carol watched you relax, she could see the exhaustion in your features.

But she decided it was time she call this off and free you.

“You care for her,” Carol began, leaning against the wall. “don’t you?”

“I-,” You clenched your jaw to prevent snapping at her and lifted your head to face her.

“Yes I do,” You confessed quietly.

The blonde’s face morphed into a sad smile. You couldn’t understand why she was smiling. Afraid of saying something you shouldn’t have, you began diplomacy. Stating vague answers about how you care for each and every life, not just Natasha’s.

You had little trouble lying to her, lying had become like breathing for you. 

But you could see it wasn’t working.

“Y/n, it’s okay,” Carol chuckled sadly, sighing and sitting down beside you again. Her thigh brushed yours, but you moved away.

“That is supposed to have some meaning?” You asked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

Carol turned to face you, examining your features. Your features were hard, not showing any emotion. It was something you’d been taught as a child, you didn’t know better. The blonde chuckled sadly, you were someone she had wanted, badly, but she couldn’t keep you.

“It means you can stop pretending you want me,”

“I-I, I don’t,” You stuttered, eyes widening as you licked your lips. “I don’t understand what you are saying,”

Jaw clenching and unclenching, you tried to stop fidgeting with your fingers. The pressure was hanging over your head constantly affected you, but you were adamant not to show it.

“I’m saying you care more for her than I could ever hope you would care for me,” Carol said, her hazel eyes soft.

Your eyes widened, but you didn’t protest. The blonde wasn’t lying. You couldn’t see yourself being happy with Carol. Everything about her was perfect, too perfect. There would be more pressure on you to be perfect. 

It wouldn’t work.

“I’ll speak with your father and call this off.” Carol got up, brushing the dust off of her pants.

“You can stay here with Natasha as long as you wish, just don’t go outside without more protection again,” Carol warned, giving you a small, sad smile.

“Is that an order?” You asked, voice soft and nervous.

“I don’t think anyone gives you orders,” Carol smiled and shook her head before walking away, leaving you alone.

“I think you might be right,” You muttered, opening the heavy door into the operation room and closing it with a dull thud.

The redhead was paler than ever, her limbs at her sides as her unopened eyes facing the ceiling. She looked peaceful, eerily peaceful. Unused to seeing her without the mask, you couldn’t help but observe her features.

Natasha was easily one of the most gorgeous women you had ever seen. Her eyes were perfectly shaped, her lips looked soft, she was perfect. Being with her wouldn’t add pressure, it would relieve it. You wouldn’t need to worry about having to be perfect, you could just live in the shadows. It seemed more tempting than staying for the crown.

———————

Moonlight streamed through the small window in the side, hitting your eyes. But the light wasn’t what caused you to wake up, it was the voice speaking to you combined with the soft touch on your hands. Opening your eyes, you saw Natasha sitting up in bed, her hand protectively cradling her wound.

“Your highness, are you okay?” Natasha asked you, voice raspy as she reached towards your hand.

“You should sleep.”

Her words barely made their way past your ears. You smiled, eyes lighting up when you saw your knight alive, and healthy. Getting up from your seat, you leaned in towards the redhead quickly, giving her little to no time to react.

Your hands came up behind her neck, pulling her towards your lips. Her lips crashed into yours, they were chapped but soft. Smiling into the kiss, you reached up to twine your fingers into her hair. Natasha rested one hand on your hip, fingers playing with the end of your tunic.

It felt like euphoria like you were finally free. There was no pressure to do anything, no one’s metal hand above your head to do the right thing. There was only what you wanted, who you wanted.

Natasha couldn’t pull away, it was the calmest she had ever felt. Your lips on hers were intoxicating, you were like a drug she couldn’t get enough of.

But she couldn’t have you.

Reality came back to her, she pulled away, breathless, panting, trying to keep away from you. You tilted your head to the side curiously, eyes scanning her features. Her breath hit your face as she tried to move away from you.

“I, I can’t,” Natasha stuttered, confused by the feeling of your fingers running against her scalp.

You laughed, keeping yourself close to her. Moving to sit next to her on the bed, you ran your fingers through her hair before pulling away completely. Your laughter filled the room, Natasha found herself smiling at the sound.

“Why are you laughing?” Natasha asked, confusion lacing her tone.

Shaking your head, you faced her, a light smile on your face. You rested your hand on her thigh, watching her fluster.

“I spoke to Carol,” You began, tapping her thigh to bring her attention back to your face. “she left to speak with my father to call the proposal off.”

“You what?” Natasha blurted, eyes wide as she scanned your features for any sign of lying. “for me?”

You chuckled and nodded, watching her soft smile. But the more you ran this situation in your head, the worse it seemed. The knight assigned to protect you was the one falling for you rather than the suitor you were here to wed. Your father had been adamant about this wedding, more than any other suitor.

“I’m not entirely sure on how it’s going to go but-” You began, thinking of your father and his reaction.

Natasha leaned forwards and pressed her lips to yours, erasing any thoughts from your mind. Her lips moved in sync over yours, breaths mingling, hands holding each other closer. It was like a fantasy, a fantasy neither of you had ever dared to indulge in, too afraid of the fear of it becoming a dream. But your fantasy was a reality, what more could you 

ask for?

———————

Your life was supposed to be perfect, you had the only woman you wanted to marry, the life you were used to, people you cared about you. There was nothing more you could have wanted. But all of it was being denied to you from your father.

A letter had arrived, stating the entire idea of marrying the knight assigned to protect you was ridiculous. Your father denied the notion, demanding you get married to your suitor or he would disown you. Disowning was almost like banishing you from the only life you knew.

“How could he do this?” You demanded, pacing your room.

Heels clicked on the stone-cold floor as you walked from end to end. Mia sat on your bed, trying to console you. Natasha had not yet heard about the letter in your hands.

“He has never forced me to do something like this!” You shouted, angrily throwing the letter on the other side of the room and sitting on the bed. Taking your head into your hands, you groaned loudly.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad,” Mia tried to console you. But even her meager consolations weren’t helping, you didn’t know what would.

“You want to marry her more than I do,” You scoffed, beginning to come up with more insults for your situation when a knock at the door stopped you.

Angrily shouting for the person to come in, you lifted your head to look. Carol stood in the doorway, looking like she had just come out of court. She wore an elegant coat over a suit, the entire entourage was white and gold. Her hair styled elegantly.

“I’m assuming you heard about your father.” Carol began, she had gotten a version of the letter before. Your father tended to do these things, he sent an aggressively worded letter to you, a diplomatically worded letter to the nobles of the castle.

“Oh she did,” Mia muttered, cowering slightly when she caught your cold glare.

Turning to face the blonde, you crossed your arms expectantly.

“I have a way out,” Carol stated, your eyes widened slightly.

“How so?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“I know someone who could take your place as a princess,” Carol said, licking her lips nervously at the implications. “, you could still marry Natasha,”

“Who?” You asked Carol waved off your concerns.

“A friend,” The blonde bit her lip nervously. The catch to this way out would cost you everything you held dear.

“You would give up your life as a princess for her,” Carol stated, you opened your mouth to protest. “and in return, you get to be with Natasha,”

You stopped. This would change everything. The life you were used to consisted of being a princess, it consisted of holding power and being in control. If you did this, you would no longer be in control, you would live in the shadows as just another noble in Carol’s court.

Were you willing to give up everything you knew for Natasha?

Seeing your hesitation, Carol began to speak to end the silence.

“You have some time to-” She began, but you were quick to cut her off.

“I agree,” You stated, voice firm but Mia caught the slight waver in your voice.

Carol’s eyes widened, she didn’t think you were going to give up everything for the redhead. Your determination for the opportunity to love her was something she could never hope to gain.

“You’re sure?” Mia asked, her voice a low whisper as she leaned towards you.

You bit your lip and nodded. You’d never been more unsure of anything in your life. If Natasha wasn’t right for you, you’d still give everything up. But the chance to be with her, the chance to live in the shadows, without your father’s iron hand above your head, it was too much to let go.

“I’m sure,”

———————

Telling Natasha about this plan was more disastrous than anyone had hoped. Carol had been the first to tell Natasha, the redhead had objected strongly and rushed up to your room in an absolute panic. In the middle of your packing, Natasha had burst in and demanded to know the reason behind your choices. You were quick to explain to her why the green-eyed knight understood it better than you had hoped.

After all, it was the reason she had gone to your kingdom in the first place, to getaway.

Natasha had helped you move into the suite near hers. From then, you stayed near her.

The wedding was rather extravagant, a woman named Valkyrie whom you had seen earlier had agreed to take your place. It had been quick, as to avoid your father’s knowledge about the switch. But it was extravagantly decorated with the most exquisite feast you’d had.

Giving up your life had proved harder than you had originally thought. It had become the norm for all the attention in the room to be on you, to be in control. The change was harder than you had expected. The redhead by your side was the constant reminder of why you chose to change your life, why you chose her over everything you’d ever known.

To say your father had overreacted to the switch would be an understatement. The king had planned to send an army to the Avenger’s kingdom when he realized there was nothing he could do. You were in control of your life now, not him.

Your story was told throughout the land. It won you the respect of the crowd around you as well as anyone who had ever heard the story. 

For years to come, many people went through the kingdom and heard the story of the princess who fooled everyone to get who she wanted. Many wondered why she gave up everything she knew for a knight. But when they passed through the courts and caught sight of you beside Natasha, they understood why you gave up the crown.

A/N: I’ve spent hours on this so any and all feedback would be appreciated!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver​, @versdan​, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught​, @lovebotlarson​, @dhengkt​, @hstoria​, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ , @ophelias-heart​  , @never-didbefore​ , @justarandomhumanhere​, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn​ , @lesbian-x-blackwidow​ , @wlw-imaginesss​ , @hcartbyheart​​ , @summergeezburr​​ , @imnotasuperhero​  , @thelastavenger-3000​ , @a-stressedstudent​ , @cybeleceto​ , @aaron-despair​  let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[sunseteyes]

ONCE UPON A HELLFIRE; DABI

theme/s: anastasia & hunchback in notre dame inspired. the meeting of an unlikely pair that bonded through a connection neither understood.

word count: 2,226 words

roze’s note: this is the first out of eight oneshots i’ll be publishing til the end of the month, please look forward to each of them~ also, i am not a professional dancer or even close to one so i do apologize if the dance scenes are not that detailed. 

there was a crowd around you, your hair and the laces of your clothes dancing along through your movements. a smile was on your face, sweet and sultry as you eyed upon each of the watchers, observing their reactions but mostly to add upon the mood of the dance.

the flame burns from behind you but it was warm enough to show you the passion that you put through each gesture, action and motion.

applause resounded in the area the moment you finished, the praises never ending yet your focus were on the your hand, lifted up on the sky as if reaching up on it. it was your dream to be someone who is loved and inspired of by the people around you, and it was fulfilled.

but, it was all ruined by a man.

"(y/n), have you prepared for the presentation tomorrow?" another dancer asked, her dress of a different color than yours due to the difference of roles. above all the dancers that had performed that night, it was you who were in the center stage—the star of the night, the sun that brightened up the mood of the crowd due to how popular you were to everyone.

your eyes set upon uraraka, thinking upon her question.

"you meant the solo dance for the governor tomorrow? yes, i have, why do you ask ochaco-chan?"

the brunette gives you an small smile, one that she always does whenever she's unsure of something but she's too shy to tell it to you. above everyone, it's ochaco who you could tell is the closest you've got as a friend. it didn't mean that the other performers didn't like you per se but since you had always been requested and assigned as the main dancer usually, let's just say your relationship with them is not too good to be considered as above acquaintances.

"oh, not really." she chuckles awkwardly, waving her hand as a gesture, "i'm just worried for you, that's all."

"worried?" you raised a brow, catching upon the tone of her voice and her choice of words. "why should there be to be concerned of?"

"oh-" her eyes widens a bit, "it's really just-i wanted to say good luck for your performance. i'm sure you can do it better than all of us."

you smiled, carrying your bag to place the strap on your shoulders as you had finished packing your things to go home. "thank you, ochako-chan. i really appreciate it."

as you passed by everyone in the tent, you couldn't help but feel and receive the gazes that the other dancers were giving you but you planted your feet on the ground; firm and unshakable.

so as you thought.

slumping onto the bed, you place an arm on top of your eyes, covering it despite of having the room already dark enough not to hurt your sight. the house was quiet, as usual, but it didn't mean you wanted it.

you grew up in an orphanage and it would have been better if you knew why you were there all of a sudden but you barely remember anything about the past years before you were taken in by the caretaker--who never really cared much about you throughout your stay. you were neglected, and even if it was the sad reality, it only made you more curious in finding who your real family was.

but you never did.

you hummed to fill in the quietness of the surroundings whilst organizing the things that are needed for the solo performance tomorrow. it will not take long much but the movements definitely will take effort because every second will count upon how you should make the audience glue their eyes and whole attention on you, including the governor.

the governor is a powerful man and everyone knows not to displease him. that’s why you prepared for this dance early on and had mastered everything already.it would be a shame if you’ve made a slightest bit of a mistake in front of the most respected and powerful man in your city. 

by the time tomorrow came, your heart was pounding just at the sight of the people that were gathered around the plaza--the same people who were bound to witness your performance for today. you had certainly performed in front of a bunch of people but never at this number. however, it is still exciting to do so for the exact same reason. in conclusion, you were feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement pumping in your heart that you didn’t know which one was stronger.  

by the time your name was called, you gave it with all you’ve got; swaying your hips, moving your arms freely, your feet light as you pranced along the stage, and your eyes immediately set upon the mayor, being able to have this chance to see him for the very first time.

enji todoroki. ever since you came to the orphanage, you had known of his name. he was not only a man known for his title but also for the good deeds he had done for the people. everyone respects and honors him. anyone who does differently are exiled or put to death, even. it is indeed intriguing but as a lowly citizen--barely, to be honest--you have no choice but to abide and cause any commotion of some sort.

the crowd was wild and sounding pleased with what you were showing them and there is an amused look on the governor’s face, which then only encouraged you to move accordingly and with great energy. your heartbeat blended well with the music and the claps of the people resonated with your moves.

your gaze was then tugged towards a figure not very far from the governor, his presence giving you an intriguing energy that it made you glide towards him, a smile tugged on your face as you placed yourself in front of him, unafraid of any repercussions that may happen. it is part of your dance where you have to improvise some of the steps since you decided that it would be too boring to only stay in one place throughout the performance. 

you peered over his face the moment you got beside him, his eyes gleaming under the shadow of his hair, as if he was narrowing them at you in irritation--or not. your sweat ran cold not because you were scared of him but it was a different kind of feeling that piqued your interest. you also had a hard time reading him but you didn’t linger there for any longer for his body heat was too warm for you to handle.

you felt his gaze was on you and yours were on him when you had went by the governor’s side, including him in your performance still even if your attention was on the other man by the side. you noticed how he wore an all-black outfit that matches his hair color, but you couldn’t see his face with the mask he was wearing. although what amazed you was how the burns that decorated his skin didn’t bother you no matter how you look at them. 

beauty is irrelevant for you and you don’t have particular standards in men or anyone but there is something about the way his looks just got you distracted that you almost stopped dancing. 

you stopped peering over the man until you finished the performance, your hand raising up to your heart that was pounding still even as you go down the stage and towards the dressing room. for some reason, you couldn’t seem to forget about the man that was by the governor’s side. it is wrong for you to still have your mind on him but something about him just intrigues you.

“hey there, doll,” you flinched at the sudden voice, turning to the same man that was circling in your brain enter the dressing room. it was a good thing you were not undressing yourself or else you would have recoiled in embarrassment.

but, “what are you doing here, dear sir?” you inquired with respect, knowing the possibility that he may be connected to the governor with how he could stand there on the same level as the him. a bodyguard, perhaps? 

your spine trembled at his eyes--how he looked over at you just like how he did earlier. you had never known how it is to be attracted to someone but if this is attraction, then that changes everything.

he was silent for awhile, his gaze remaining on yours and it only thickened the tension in the air, especially since it was only the two of you here. you should be wary of him just like how other strangers but you felt like you couldn’t seem to do so. 

you don’t even know his name.

“my father would like to invite you in a dinner.” he said the words like he was spatting it, disgusted and embarrassed, you understood why the second you processed and realized it. but before you could answer, he was speaking again. 

“you do know that this is clearly an invitation that you couldn’t disagree with, right?”

you nod your head, unable to speak at how you were shaking in terror by now. what adds to that is you don’t know if you could trust this man or not.

and he did say his father right? he’s the son of the governor? it doesn’t look like it but there was a resemblance in the ambiance somehow. 

but instead of further giving you fright, the man gave off a vibe that somehow reassured you. maybe it’s the way he stepped back and gave you space, or the warmth that radiates from his gleaming eyes, despite everything.

what is with this man?

“do you have your final answer?” 

swallowing the lump on your throat, you narrowed your eyes at him and spoke, “it’s an honor to be given such offer but i politely decline.” you wanted to say more but you were still at a loss for words, reluctant of the future that awaits you after saying such answer. 

he tilts his head slightly to the side, his dark bangs swaying a bit in his movement, it intimidated you yet you made no move to back away,

“hmm, so that’s who you are.” he mutters and suddenly steps forward, his footsteps resounding throughout the room as he does. he reaches out for the table behind you and leans in, his face inches away from yours as you felt his breath fan your face at how close he was.

“you’re feisty. i like that.” 

he backs away and there was a smirk on his face that you have never seen before, its amusement almost similar to a grim reaper showing up to its prey.

“tell me, doll. how about working for me? i am quite sure that you’re the type who doesn’t have a permanent home.”

you narrow your eyes at him, not backing down.

“how would you know about that?”

he hums. “well first of all, why would your dancer friends offer you up to the governor? surely it’s either they all hate you or you’re the only one who doesn’t have anyone else waiting for them.”

“so which one are you?”

you purse your lips and for the first time, you didn’t know what to say.

he smirks. “so you’re both. i see, i see.” he chuckles and it sent trembles down your skin, prickling like a thorn awaiting to injure you.

but why is it that you still trust this man after all of that?

your eyes caught the movement of his hand but instead of grabbing you like you had thought, he only raised it, as if offering you to take it.

when you glanced up on his turquoise eyes, there was a glint that attracted you like magnet, an interest you never knew you would crave for.

“join me, doll. join me and i’ll provide you better than your fake friends would. you don’t have to worry about my father getting to you because i’m pretty sure,” he paused, giving a knowing look, “-he’d be looking for you all over this place. now, what do you say?”

looking down at his outstretched hand, you can’t believe that you were actually considering it.

but he does have a point.

you raised your hand and gazed up at his eyes again. “what would you make me do if i join you?”

the curve of his lips was captivating that it almost made you grab his hand.

“how much do you want to find your family?”

his statement made you froze on the spot but a part in your heart thawed, a hidden desire being exposed into sunlight that was called him.

your hand touches his, his warmth flowing and spreading through your entire body as if it lit a fire inside of you.

before he could pull you to him, you stopped him. “wait, i haven’t caught your name yet.”

he looks at you with the same eyes yet a different gaze yet again. there was a stillness in the air that you couldn’t ignore but before you could be more wary, he spoke.

“touya.” his voice was rough and raw, a tone that seemed unfamiliar even to him.

“my name is touya todoroki,”

[pencilwritesshiz47]

An Apology in the Form of an Adventure

MGR Chapter Five

[Previous] [Next] [Masterpost]

TW: Arguing

Dame Lauren Baker stared at her screen, not listening as the broadcaster kept on talking. All she could think about were those words.

"Xan Ruz is no more."

What did that even mean? How could a country be “no more”? All she knew was that there was no way that could be a good thing. And her best friend was stuck there.

She wanted to panic. But she couldn't panic. Not in front of... her. She stared at the girl who had crashed on top of her only minutes ago. She was the reason Goldie was in this situation. She was the one who left her. She...

Lauren took a deep breath. Maybe Goldie was ok. She swiped out of the broadcast screen, and opened her phone app, quickly hitting Goldie's contact.

She put her phone up to her ear, her heart racing.

Briiiing.

Briiiing.

Briiiing.

Briiiing.

Briiiing.

"Heeeeey!"

Lauren gasped. "Goldie! Goldie, are—are you alright? I—"

"You've reached Goldie Potter, and I'm not at the phone right now, sorry 'bout that. Anywaaaays, I'll call ya back when I can! Byeeeeeeeeee—"

She hung up. She tried to convince herself that Goldie's phone was just dead, but her mind kept jumping to other thoughts...

"I'm sorry."

Lauren looked over at the girl, her words breaking off her internal ranting.

"You should be."

The girl sighed and looked at her feet. "I know. I screwed up. I should have brought her with me. But you have to understand, I really tried! Everything was so crazy, and I just— I-I'm just so sorry."

And then, in that moment, Lauren had a choice. Forgive her, or not.

Almost subconsciously, she chose "not". The raging part of her took over, sending the rational part back. She started yelling again, but she wasn't even sure what she was saying until she found herself ranting about the girl helping them rescue Goldie.

She looked at the girl, her face full of fear. The girl shakily took a piece of paper and a pen out of her pocket, scribbled something on it, and handed it to her, mumbling, "My contact information." Then she walked off.

Lauren just stood there. She wasn't sure what to think, or what to feel. She looked at the paper in her hands. It was pink, with little flowers around the edges. Written on it in some of the fanciest writing she'd ever seen, were the words, "Lady Elisabeth Melly," and then an address and a phone number. She shoved it into her pocket but she didn't leave. She just stood there.

She wasn't sure how long it had been since the girl—Lady Elisabeth—had left, but when she heard footsteps the sky was a shade of purple so dark it ought to be black.

"Hey," a gentle called out. "It's late."

"She's still in Xan Ruz," Lauren responded, almost robotically.

"What?"

"Goldie. She's still in Xan Ruz. A-and I called her, and she didn't answer. And I think someone's going to help us find her in three days if she doesn't come back but I don't even know—"

The person had come around to her by now, and she just sank into their arms, soon realizing that it was her friend, Marigold. She looked up at her, her eyes filled with tears. "M, I don't know what to do and I'm-I'm scared."

"Let's go home," she whispered, and slowly, they stared to walk back to the JKA.

✧✧✧

"You double-checked the checklist, right? We do have everything?" The knight asked.

"For the last time, yes." The healer said, a bit exasperated although she still had a small smile on her face.

"Are you sure you're not lying to me?"

"Would I lie to you about a checklist?"

Lauren sighed. "I sure hope not."

Three days had passed since her encounter with the noblewoman. And since Goldie hadn't returned, they were heading out for Xan Ruz.

Unfortunately, the JKA leader Dame Alice, wasn't completely thrilled with a sector leader and a healer to go wandering off on an international rescue adventure, so the two had to sneak out.

"Ok, now when did Di say she'd be closing the portal?" Lauren asked, not wanting to be late.

"Uh, I think it was the 23rd hour? And it's the 22nd hour right now, so we're good." Marigold replied.

Lauren nodded, and peaked out her bedroom door. Thankfully, there was no one there, and she motioned to Marigold to follow her.

They tip-toed through from one end of the hallway to the other, stopping when they reached door 3. The brunette knocked on the door softly, and the blue-haired girl answered, yawning slightly. "Thank the gods you're here, this portal is a bit harder to keep open then I thought."

Lauren knit her brows. "But isn't the location pretty close to here?"

Di sighed. "Yeah, it does seem to be, but for some reason it's just... tiring. That could be from the strain leftover from opening that Xan Ruz portal, but something is still off..."

Lauren frowned. "Well, we'll look into that when we get back. But thank you for opening this."

Di smiled. "No prob boss," and the two stepped through the portal.

✧✧✧

"We're outside the palace," the sprite remarked, staring at the building looming just yards away from them.

Lauren stared at it. It was quite huge, with many towers and high walls. The dark gray brick and numerous Calinas flags gave it a sense of majesty and elegance, but in the dark it felt frightening as well.

But Lauren wasn't paying attention to it, instead, she was trying to find the river where, according to Marigold, Lady Elisabeth had arranged a boat to be placed.

It took her a second, but she quickly found the brown wooden rowboat. It was modest, but it would work. She quickly dragged Marigold over to it, and climbed in.

She took a moment to take it all in—the feeling of the rough wood beneath her, the smell of the cool night air, and the gentle sounds of the river flowing. But it didn't last long—she had other things to attend to.

She opened her phone, as there wasn't enough light for her to see her watch. In bright white letters behind her lockscreen (A selfie of her, Goldie, and Marigold taken just a few months after she joined the JKA) was the time—22:19. She sighed. They had made it on time.

Marigold went over to the side of the boat, and quickly climbed in, splashing both of them. Lauren giggled, leaned over to the side of the boat, and cupped up some water in her hands. Then, quick as an arrow, she threw it at Marigold's back. The sprite turned around, her face in an expression of mock anger. She gasped, and took a bit of water in her hands, gently spraying Lauren with it.

They went on like this for a few minutes, although Marigold was far more wet than Lauren. When they were finally finished with their splash-fest, Lauren checked her phone's time again, frowning.

"What's wrong?" Marigold asked, concern lacing her voice.

Lauren showed the healer her phone, the time reading 22:24—Elisabeth was four minutes late.

"Oh," Marigold said, frowning slightly. "Don't worry, she'll be here soon."

Lauren sighed, but nodded. Not knowing what else to do, she looked up at the stars, smiling.

The stars had always fascinated Lauren. They were dots of mystery lining the sky, and she loved to find constellations and see if she could guess where the moons that weren't visible this time of month were.

At about 22:29, Marigold went out to see if she could spot Elisabeth, and it took another two minutes until she finally showed up.

Lauren rolled her sapphire-colored eyes. "You're late."

Elisabeth scowled. "For your information, it wasn't exactly easy getting out of the meeting. Although I doubt you'd understand that, as I assume that you got out without any trouble."

Lauren huffed. "Well, you know what happens when you assume, because it was actually quite a bit of a challenge getting out."

Elisabeth said nothing, and simply climbed into the boat.

Lauren looked up at Marigold, who seemed to be staring across the river. "M." No response. "M!" The sprite stayed silent. "M!!" That seemed to shock her out of whatever funk she was in, as she quickly climbed into the boat once again.

"You good?" Lauren asked.

"Yeah. I was just... thinking."

"Ok..." Lauren said. She quickly pulled out her sword, and cut the rope attaching them to the shore, and they started moving.

"We're coming for you, Goldie," she murmured as the current sailed them away. 

Eyyy finally got the chapter out!! yayyy!!

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[tarry-a-lot]

French Musical Recommendations/review (Part 2)

I should have mentioned in part 1 but I don't speak French (well a bit but not enough to understand the lyrics unless I’m reading it or something) so if the lyrics aren’t that good my bad I honestly wouldn’t know, 

Also this is in no particular order, I don't think all the shows mentioned in part 1 are better than the ones mentioned here, there will be a part 3 at some point

1789 Les amantes de la Bastille: I think this may be my second or third (ties with Mozart) favourite French musical based solely on soundtrack, it’s about the siege of the Bastille and the days leading up to it with a focus on two lovers Ronan a revolutionary and Olympe Marie Antoinette’s children’s governess (the actress who played Olympe was also Guinevere in roi Arthur musical), my favourite songs are “Sur ma peau” and “La rue nous apparent” it is available in full on YouTube, IMPORTANT: This show has two endings, I don’t want to spoil so perhaps skip what I’m about to write though I will try to be vague: the scene before the song “fixe” at the end, the two characters switch place mattering on which version your watching, one version was done towards the start of the run and late 2013 they seemed to have made the change, the full version uploaded and the dvd have the original ending (I personally prefer the original but the other is not bad as well). also in 2012 when the show was staring with the showcase costumes are really different and you’ll find Ronan is played by Matthieu Carnot who plays Lazare in the full production later on instead because he had vocal issues resulting in getting replaced and given a more minor role (I think he’s great in his new role though, “Maniaque” is a bop)

Non-music: I have yet to see it in full but from clips the lighting is great and really adds to the songs and emotions, the story is pretty straightforward but nice, and the choreography is good from what I’ve seen, also for a “historical” show the costumes aren’t that bad, I would assume not accurate but a good balance of inaccurate and historical looking enough

Japanese Toho ver. (1789 バスティーユの恋人たち) 2016 clips are available on YouTube, the costumes in this version is fun, it’s non-replica but they really went off on Olympe’s costume, I will be honest a little bit sad about Ronan’s yellow jacket being replaced with a dark blue, also one of the Ronan actors (Olympe, Ronan and Marie-Antoinette are double casted) looks too old, especially compared to other Ronan actor who really has the young energetic vibe about him (though if memory serves me correctly his sur ma peau was strangely annoying to listen to)

Takarazuka ver. 2015, clips are available on YouTube if Japanese title along with “宝塚“ is added in search

Notre-Dame de Paris: a musical based on Victor Hugo’s novel of the same name, it is different from the Disney musical, this is another popular French show, if you like Romeo et Juliette you’ll probably like this, it can found in full on YouTube along with different translations/adaptions, I won’t go to in depth on different version on here like I did for R+J but if your interested the Wikipedia page is quite detailed and can tell you about all the casts and cast recording available, I have yet to watch it in full but so far I think Belle and Le temps des cathédrales are my favourite songs (quite basic I know), it’s one of those shows you can’t go wrong with, from the parts I’ve watched and listened I think it could become one of my favourite shows

Non music: From the bits I’ve seen the wall backdrop is really cool, It has nooks and platforms that appear and disappear and it’s just really cool looking, WARNING, this is a bit of the spoiler so maybe don't read what I’m about to write but if you’ve read the book its not that much of a spoiler but there is a hanging scene at the end so if that imagery is something your sensitive to please be wary, it’s at the end (on the YouTube video of the full original show its from 2:03:42-2:03:54)

Don Juan: I love this show (I strangely found parts funny and a bit cheesy which is why I liked it), It’s pretty much about a man Don Juan who is a know heartbreaker who is only into sex drinking and having fun but no love, he then falls in love with a woman, shocker, and conflicts arise from there, honestly I don’t see a lot of content for this show but I think it’s fun, the dancing is primarily flamenco (music is heavily inspired by the dance as well) and it’s impressive, the singing is great, the full show is available on YouTube, my favourite songs are probably “Les fleurs du mal” and “Jalousie,”  It opened in Montreal originally then went to Paris, the full show is available on YouTube (I think the Paris version) and there is also a full 3 and half hour behind the scenes video of the Paris production online, from what I can tell up till the symphony version of 2019 Don Juan and his love Maria has been consistently played by Jean-François Breau and Marie-Ève Janvier (obviously there were understudies and such) the actors are also married/were dating during the show which adds to it when you see them perform together 

Non-Music: a character described with black hair in the song chorus is blonde/brunette and I thought that was hilarious, some strange choreography with Don Juan especially in Jalousie, he walks up and down stage and it’s awkward, aside from weird parts in general the costumes are ok (gets better in later productions), the set is plain but with some fun props, I think the dancing is probably one of the highlights along with the live band present on stage for certain songs (photo from Quebec 2013 production) 

Don Juan (Théâtre St-Denis) 2004 Montreal, also had Canada tour after its Montreal premier in Feb.

France Tour 2005 Palais des Congrès à Paris performance recording and behind the scenes is available on YouTube 

Korean Tour 2006, the French cast touring, non-costume concert versions and actual performance clips are available on Youtube

Korean Cast, 2009 (March~) (뮤지컬 돈 주앙) separate from the tour which was the French cast touring this is an all Korean cast, act 1 and 2 can be found on YouTube (video called “돈쥬앙 1막“ and “돈쥬앙 2막“) though it seems to cut around so It’s like a pieced together version of the acts, other clips are also available, it is a replica production

2012 revival Montreal, from what I read it only had 10 performances? and with it released a cd with new recordings, “nous on veut de l'amour“ and “L'amour Est Plus Fort“ 

Grand Théâtre de Québec 2013 (August 9-18), you could call this a continuation to the revival in Montreal 

Takarazuka ver. 2016 (June+July) (ドン・ジュアン) the page is still up on the takarazuka website for this production, there’s a ad with clips from the show available on niconico (should come up if you search the title in jp and add takarazuka in jp) also this version Don Juan is strangely more touchy with his friend, not mad guess it adds a new tension to the plot, non replica production though it is quite similar to the French one, they don’t stray too far

Don Juan Symphonique 2019 (Feb 12-16): At the Montreal Symphony House they had a concert version with the original cast (or at least the original Don Juan and Maria), along with the OSM (Orchestre Symphonique de Montréal)

Japanese ver. 2019 (August/September + December) it’s non-replica, there’s a trailer for it online but it only features Don Juan, I found blog posts about it but currently while I write this it’s late so perhaps I’ll update with more info later, maybe not

Moscow Concert 2020 (March 17-22) (Дон Жуан or Don Juan) This is still in French with a French cast but this time the leads are no longer the original, Laurent Ban is now Don Juan, supposedly according to a Russian video it was meant to go on tour after Moscow (State Kremlin Palace) but I’m assuming the issue with the virus changed plans, I’m surprised they were going to go on world tour I honestly think it’s not true, the interview with cast can be found on YouTube with bits of songs, however the Russian concert advertisement is only a recording from the 2005 French, from what I can tell it is a replica, I believe it was cancelled before the premier due to Covid-19

The research for this show took me all day, maybe if I was fluent in French it would have been faster, if I’m wrong in parts feel free to comment and correct me and I’ll edit it

Les Trois Mousquetaires: Not to be mistaken with the Broadway/Westend show of the same name and base material from 1928 with the revival in the 80′s or the other three musketeer musical at the North Shore theatre in 2007 (the one with Aaron Tveit and Kevyn Morrow), or the other musical by George Stiles and Paul Leigh, this is an entirely separate 2016-2017 musical that follows the general plot of the literature it’s based on though simplified, it’s ok, not great but not the worst, I probably would rank it lower than roi Arthur, I will admit I haven’t listened to the full show, it’s quite catchy, my favourite song so far is probably “Je t’aime c’est tout,” there is a showcase concert in full, music videos and official soundtracks available on YouTube but I would advise checking out the live versions, the ensemble backing parts are really great and they get cut out in the recording versions which really cheapens the songs for me, In general ok show, really not the best but has its highlights (like the four lads relationship is fun to watch, dancing is great, singing is good), 

Non-Music: Athos the oldest of the 3 musketeers is actually the youngest actor though he is a few year older than the D’Artagnan actor, It’s minor I guess but I didn’t realise who Athos was until looking up the cast list and was shocked, Also Athos really doesn’t sing because Brahim Zaibat who plays him is a dancer, despite this his dancing skills really add to the fight sequences making them very impressive and fun to watch, it’s more concerty in style and a bit interactive with the audience, from what I can tell the sets seem plain and the costumes are really awful (in my opinion) like Athos’ shirt is so revealing to the point he might as well not wear a shirt, also Constance’s outfit is just a no for me

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

Daddy’s Girl

Pairing: AU! Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, a single father of his daughter Winnifred, named after his late mother, with sad, tortured eyes and a kind, open heart, hires Y/N to babysit his little girl while he works at his new construction job, coming home only at lunchtime. Innocent and fiery and compassionate, you find your way into his heart and soon his daughter isn’t the only one you come over for.

A/N: so as you can see I haven’t posted a fanfiction in awhile, been busy and stuff, and i want to go back to my roots and write a bucky story cause i adore writing him and I haven’t written an AU yet so I decided to do this one (he’s still a super soldier and was around in the 40′s just domesticated now we love him uwu) and as always i hope you guys enjoy and feedback is appreciated because it’s my only form of validation and i love it this ones a long one btw and rushed and WHOA and if ya want a part two LEMME KNOW

Warnings: really freaking fluffy, mild language, age-difference, cuteness, mentions of cheating and war trauma, slight angst, alcohol consumption, heavy makeout, 

Your knuckles ghosts over the large, wooden doorway laden with vines, climbing up the cedar detailing, other hand gripping your bag strap tightly. You’re nervous, to say the least, this job funding your payments for online university and you don’t want to jeopardize anything on your first day. He’s offered more than enough for your hourly wage, more than any babysitting job you’ve had before, any job for that matter, and based on his house, it’s no wonder he can afford to do so.

Your fist finally knocks against the door and it opens almost immediately, as if he’s been waiting behind the door this whole time you’ve been standing here, both stalling. You’ve only heard his voice over the phone, deep and charming, but that didn’t do him justice. Sculpted face, from marbled, olive clay, cerulean blue eyes that are already looking you over, dark, brunette hair to his jawline and messy with the slightest of curls, and lips, curved at the edges permanently, like he was born with a face to smile. His left arm is made of metal, cool and hard steel you want to reach out and touch like a painting in the Met, off limits. But you don’t dare stare too long, don’t dare pry. He’s beautiful and you’re almost stunned into silence, not expecting the man before you.

“Y/n, right?” he asks, flashing a soft, half smile, warm and inviting.

“No, wait... yeah,” you laugh nervously, shaking your head, scrunching your nose when embarrassment floods to your face, flushed. “Sorry, yes, I’m y/n.”

His smile widens, “I’m James, but I go by Bucky. You can call me whichever you like. Please, come on in.”

You share in his smile, making the eye contact your past bosses would always reprimand you about, something about respect they said, and walk inside when he opens the door a little wider for you, “Yes, sir,” you say and he ignores the not so subtle tug in his chest when you say that, following in behind you after shutting the door.

“So uh... this is my humble abode, I guess,” he tugs on the curls at the ends of his hair as your eyes scan the house, speechless at the interior design, imagining that it gets lonely in this big home with just the two of them.

“Humble isn’t exactly the word I would use,” you look back at him. “Your home is gorgeous. This foyer alone is bigger than my apartment,” you laugh lightly.

Bucky noticeably softens, bashful, hands stuffed deep in his pockets when he walks ahead of where your standing rooted to the floor, “It was my ma’s... she left it after she passed. I’ve barely been able to keep up with the payments, but I do what I can.”

“I tried to...” he notices a barbie doll laying on the ground and kicks it swiftly under the staircase so you wouldn’t see but you catch the small exchange and smile. “Clean up as much one can with a five year old spider monkey on their back. I apologize if it’s messy in some rooms.”

You giggle, “No need to be sorry,” you assure him, tugging on your bag strap, filled to the brim with games to keep the child busy and occupied, also including some snacks and your cellphone. “Mess is natural.”

His shoulders slack, relaxing when hearing that, a soft smile his only response.

“Speaking of, hey, sweetheart!” he calls up the stairs, leaning against the railing, rolling up the sleeves of his light green flannel, unintentionally showing off his ripped forearms, toned and tan from working outside. “Come downstairs and meet y/n, she’s going to be taking care of you from now on while I’m working!”

“Hey is for horses, daddy!” she yells down the stairs, little voice high pitched and extremely adorable.

“Uncle Steve told you that, didn’t he?” he rolls his eyes, flashing a smile in your direction, sharing in the expression with him.

The little girl appears at the top of the staircase and she’s bouncing with energy, blonde curls raining down her shoulders, stuffed unicorn tucked under her pudgy arm, “He also said yelling is impolite. Especially when it’s from another room.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” he sighs, grumbling under his breath as he patiently awaits for his daughter to skip down the stairs, jumping into his open arms. He groans at the impact and spins her around.

“Well, how about you tell Uncle Steve to shove it,” he looks at her and she giggles, bubbling with laughter when he tickles her sides. “Can you do that for me?”

“Isn’t that mean?” she narrows her blue eyes, much like her father’s, big and bright.

“Yes, but I’ll allow it just this once.”

She nods, saluting her goofy father and he salutes back, brothers in arms. You’ve never seen a parent so in love with their kid like this, so kind and gentle.

He sets her down on the ground once again, the little girl finally acknowledging your presence with a curious tilt of her head, almost like a cat. “Is this the lady?”

“Winnifred, this is y/n,” he nudges her towards you, hand on her back pushing her forward. “And y/n, this is the spider monkey I was talking about,” he cracks a smile and you chuckle, lowering yourself to the ground to get to her level.

“Hi, Winnifred,” you extend your hand. “I’m y/n. It’s very nice to meet you. Your giraffe is really cute.”

She takes two of your fingers in her small hand, thin, golden brown glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and shakes, formal and polite when she puffs up her chest while doing her best to mimic her father, “I’m Winnifred but I go by Winnie, call me whicheva’ you prefer.”

Bucky looks at his daughter, stunned and mouth agape, “Are you mocking me?”

She furrows her small brow, faking offense, but she’s crossing her fingers behind her back where only you can see, “Of course not.”

“Were you listening this whole time, Winnie?” you ask her quietly and she grins, nodding rapidly, as hyper as the energizer bunny. You give her a small, secret fist bump, both sharing a small smile.

“You two will get along perfectly,” James rolls his eyes.

You’re braiding back Winnifred’s hair into plaited pigtails, tying off the ends with violet ribbon you brought from home, when Bucky walks down the staircase, work bag hanging off his broad shoulder. He blinks hard when he sees you, smiling with blushing cheeks, eyes tired. “Oh, hey, you’re early.”

“I also made you a sack lunch,” you hold up the paper bag with one hand, and fix up Winnie’s hair with the other.  

You’ve been here a week now and it’s slowly become routine, you getting here early even though you don’t have to, going out of your way to do nice things for him because you know he needs it, and him blushing, oblivious to your affections but growing in his own.

His hand brushes yours when he accepts the lunch from your grasp, calloused fingers touching yours.

“Goodbye, sweetheart, I love you. Be good for y/n and I’ll see you at lunch,” he kisses the top of her head and almost like it’s out of habit, sleep deprivation, confusion, or just him plain wanting to, he kisses the top of your head too.

You look up at him, surprised, and Winnifred practically squeals, deep color filling your face.

He closes his eyes in embarrassment, clearly exhausted and delirious, “I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorry, it’s a force of habit. I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I? I’m s-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you assure him, laying your hand on his forearm, subconsciously running your thumb over the skin when you try to relax his anxious rambling. You laugh a little, he’s like a puppy in more ways than one, “I’m not uncomfortable, here...” you get up off where you’re sitting on the couch, Win watching you expectantly.

You stand up on the tips of your toes, seeing as he’s six foot and then some, and kiss the top of his head, gentle and doting. “There you go, now we’re even,” you share a small smile with him, eyes alight.

He searches your face for something but you don’t know what, finding that unknown thing in your eyes before edging a soft smirk and chuckling, “Thank you. That... oddly helped.”

You grin brilliantly and Winnifred jumps on your back from the cushion on the couch, both of you sharing a laugh, “You’re welcome, I knew it would. Have a good day at work, we’ll be here.”

“You too,” he runs a hand through his behead of hair, looking at the two of you adoringly before walking over to the door.

“This isn’t work for me,” you say happily. “I love this spider monkey,” you scrunch your face up and stick out your tongue at her, Winnifred copying your silly expression.

She puts her small hands on your face and shakes you around, you toss her over your shoulder in retaliation. Bucky watches on at the adorable exchange and his heart aches in a way he’s never felt like that before, not his ex wife, not his past girlfriends, not the whirlwind of dames he went through in the 40′s army, not drunken one night stands he thought about calling the next day, and it scares him. You. And his attraction to you soon grows to much more than just that.

“Bye,” he sort of half smiles, heart beating out of his chest when he sees you give him a passing smile as he walks out, both of you still grinning even after the other leaves.

~~~

He’s sitting out on the patio when you’re about to leave for the day, just after putting Winnifred down for her nap. She had been clinging to your tee shirt until you broke down to her begging in telling her a story. There’s a bottle of beer in his hand, and you’re struck at how the moonlight is cascading down his sitting figure, how pleasing he is to look at, rocking back and forth in his white rocking chair. The paint on the old seat is chipping, old, and creaking under his weight, masking the sound of you closing the door behind you, tugging on your bag.

He sees you anyway, always taught when he was a soldier that he needs to look out and keep being alert at all times in case of an attack, that it’s either him or the enemy. His eyes are glazed over when he looks at you like he’s somewhere else before he shakes himself out of it, gulping audibly in your presence when tucks a falling strand of your hair behind his ear. He tied his hair up in a bun, the occasional tendril escaping the elastic.

His five o’clock shadow is more prominent out here in the near dark, stars speckling the sky above you both.

“Hi,” you exhale, running a hand through your hair so it’s out of your face, wearing a crooked grin Bucky can’t bring himself to want to fix. It’s so perfectly you. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your alone time, I know it’s hard to come by as of lately,” you chuckle, nervous beyond repair, almost losing your balance just standing here. “I’ll go and leave you alone-”

“Stay.”

It’s a single word and he says it with such gentleness and permanence you can’t say no. Not that you’d want to anyway, you’ll always say yes.

You nod, “I’d love to, but... are you sure?”

“Very,” he assures you, nodding towards the porch swing beside him, swaying in that late night breeze, curling itself around you and licking your bones, that warmth your feeling being something else. Someone else.

“Alright,” you concede and walk over to sit down on the swing, not needing much convincing.

You lay down on the swing, bare legs kicked up in the air when your jean shorts ride up ever so slightly, the hot sun in the day now biting you in the ass because the temperature has changed so drastically, nipping at your skin. His eyes fall over your toned legs and he’s intoxicated. You let out a long sigh you’ve been holding in all day, feeling the ice cold glass of a beer bottle in your outstretched hand, and you yelp slightly, opening your eyes and taking the beer he’s given to you with a small, gracious smile.

“Rough day?” he asks, taking a swig of his own drink.

“No, not at all, Winnifred’s the perfect kid,” you gush, twisting off the top of the bottle and sipping the drink. “I just never sleep. What with college and stuff.”

He smiles at the compliment to his daughter, agreeing completely, “Where do you go?”

“Community college down the street by my apartment, I only go part time, but it’s still... time consuming. I stayed up all night studying for upcoming exams.”

“Today isn’t so good for everyone I guess,” he nurses his drink, swirling it around absentmindedly. “Today’s an anniversary of mine.”

You frown a little at that, forgetting the idea of him being with someone, that familiar feeling of a hole in your chest, sipping the beer, “You and... your wife?”

His lips slightly tug upward at your change in tone, “Of our divorce...”

“Oh,” your eyes widen the tiniest bit, swirling your drink. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” his eyes soften at your kind words. You’re good, too good. For him, anyway. “I walked in on her... and my brother, after coming home from work. One month after Winnifred was born, she was asleep that night, they did it just one room away from my little girl...” he clenches his fist around his bottle and the glass fractures. 

“She saw me and I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her. She said it was because I wasn’t angry that she was doing this. Because I never feel anything. I walked out, no emotion, nothing. So maybe she was right about that,” he laughs dryly, scratching the back of his neck, another strand falling across his face. “She left with him that night and I haven’t seen any of them since, maybe the occasional Facebook post of her and her new family but... all Winnie knows is that she’s gone, she asks me a lot if it’s her fault.”

“You don’t deserve that,” you say tenderly, as if cooing an injured animal, leaning forward. Your small shirt rides up slightly, revealing the soft pudge of your stomach when you reach out to put your comforting hand on his arm. He’s swept under your spell. “Winnifred doesn’t either.”

“It was tough at the time,” he admits honestly, baring his soul to you. “But I’ve moved on since, some things just aren’t...” you two lock eyes. “-meant to be, I guess.”

“She’s what we women like to call a cunt,” you tell him, your attempt to lighten up the mood. “Just look up the definition and you’ll see her picture, with your brother right behind her.”

He laughs, genuinely this time, eyes crinkling in the corners kind of laugh, the contagious one that gets you started too. It feels good, makes you both forget about your troubles. Just you two, under starlight, on this painted, wooden porch, in the beginning of June. Because you can’t be bothered with anything else.

“Thank you,” he praises, raising the bottle to his pink mouth. “I see why Winnifred adores you so much. It took dozens of some odd babysitters, but, hey, we got you now.”

“Well... I don’t normally swear around my bosses,” you flush in the slightest. 

“I’ll allow it just this once,” he takes a sip, looking at you from the corner of his eyes, lips wrapped around the rim and coated with liquor when they curl at the edges. 

“You’re too kind,” you breathe a chuckle and take your own sip, meeting eyes over a shared bottle of beer in both your fists. 

“You’re the first to say so.”

“With a heart like yours, Buck... I highly doubt that,” you stand up from the porch swing, backpack in hand again. No one’s called him that since Steve and girlfriends in the 40′s, but he likes the way you say it much better. He can just hear the smug voice of his best friend now. From when he called him while you were upstairs.

“You like her, Buck,” he told him, that damned smile searingly loud even over the phone. “I can tell, haven’t heard you talk about a dame like this since...” he paused. “Since no one, actually.”

“I can’t like her,” Bucky had reiterated, to himself mostly, trying to convince himself what his heart was telling him otherwise. “She babysits my kid, she’s ten years younger than me... she won’t like an old man like me.”

“Since when as age been an obstacle for you? And if we’re getting technical, it’s more like a 110 years younger.”

“Well it is now,” Bucky chuckled. “And since when have you been such a smartass?”

“I’ve had a good teacher,” he snarked. “Just give it a chance. Or the next time you gush about her, I’ll go and tell the doll myself.”

“You’re not allowed here after all that polite shit you drilled into my daughter’s head. She’s a little you now.”

“I taught her manners,” Steve laughed. “Sue me.”

“If I could... believe me, I would.”

“Thank you,” he looks up at you from where your standing. “For everything.”

“Of course,” you smile and he stands up himself, knowing he should go inside. “But I uh... I should get home, it’s getting late.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he finally realizes, stuffing his hands deep in his jeans pockets, like a lovestruck teenager all over again, unsure what to do. “And you know... as long as I’ve been around, one of the only benefits of being a super solider, I’ve never met someone that talks as much as you do.”

You laugh, flustered and bright from the summer night air biting at the button of your nose, “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.”

“It’s a good thing,” he says and you gravitate towards each other. “I’ve gotten sick of the quiet.” 

You look down at your sneakers, “I’m glad I could be of service.”

You’re both so close, noses slight brushing when he’s inadvertently backed you up into the wooden railing. His hand opens and closes, before closing tightly into a fist. 

He looks you over, as if he’s holding himself back from reaching out, wanting so much of you, but it’s never enough, “Goodnight, y/n. Get home safely, alright?”

Your lips dip downward, a frown on your lips that he can’t help but take notice of when he dismisses you, but he wants to protect you. He doesn’t want to do something you both would regret. A monster like him.

You bounce back quickly with a small smile, “Oh, right. Goodnight, Mr. Barnes,” and your eyes linger on his face before you’re walking down the steps.

~~~

James walks through the backyard, it’s a hot summer day, now in mid July, and you and Winnifred are running through the sprinkler. Your bare feet slap against the wet grass, green on your heels. He watches how your skin glistens in the sun with sweat and sun screen, sun burned cheeks and hair that clings to your face in tendrils. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, a coral, pink bikini top and jean shorts, the slightest of bows tied at the top from your string bottoms. He itches to get his hands on it, to pull, to see the supple skin underneath. His eyes fall over the dips and curves of your breasts and hips, your waist, your ass. 

You run a hand over your hair, getting it out of your face and eyes to look at him with a brilliant, sunshine grin, wringing out the water in your locks, “Hey, you’re home early.”

“I-I got off a little early today because there was a heat warning, what are you guys doing outside?” he drops his work bag by the door and walks towards you both, arms folded over his chest.

“Playing in the sprinkler!” Winnifred answers, throwing her hands up, when the water hits her and she giggles freely. “Duh!”

“Really?” his eyebrows raise, mumbling smart aleck under his breath with a tiny, turned up smile. “And why is that?”

“Cause it’s fun,” you grin, crooked and bright. 

You walk over to him, extending your hand, and he looks at the gesture, suspicious, a teasing smile forming. “I won’t bite... I promise.”

You take his hand and pull him to you, stepping through the grass and stringing him along until you’re in the sprinkler and he’s soaked. His white Henley shirt clings to his tanned muscle and your eyes are anywhere but, too keep yourself sane. He looks at you, looming over, running a hand back through his slick hair, water droplets falling from his long lashes and he’s laughing, grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder like a rag doll, one muscular arm wrapped around your legs. They dangle off his torso when you kick, punching his back to put you down, but your sides split from laughing, so loud and obnoxiously. 

“I wanna be carried! I wanna be carried!” Winnifred giggles excitedly, holding onto your foot where it’s hanging.

He sets you down, soft breasts to his hard chest, his hands on your waist when he puts you back on solid ground. You lock eyes with him and your fingers itch to reach out and touch him, run your hands through his hair and tug him closer to you. 

He opens his mouth to speak, inhaling sharply, “Y/n, I-”

“Y/n! He has cooties, come play with me instead!” Winnifred yells, loud and jumping up and down.

“You heard the girl,” you smile, sad and dreamy eyed. “You’re contagious.”

“Go on, then,” he laughs, looking at you like he’s about to say something again, but ultimately decided against it. Your face falls at the missed opportunity, “I’ll see you inside.”

~~~

Winnifred fell asleep across Bucky’s lap, curled up within herself under a weighted, fluffy blanket, head against his chest. You smile at the adorable moment, how his face has softened around her as the television drones on of a Disney movie you turned on that neither of you paid attention to. Ten minutes in and Winnifred was snoring away, dead asleep after laying on her father’s lap. 

“I’ll bring her upstairs,” he clears his throat as he picks her up, small against his broad and muscular frame. “If uh... you want to come with,” his lips kick up and you share it, both dreary and dog tired.

“Of course,” you yawn, stretching out your limbs, and you follow after him up the stairs, watching as he doesn’t struggle to carry her at all up the staircase.

You both step into her room as he lays her down in her Frozen themed, princess sized bed, Elsa and Anna on her pillow and large, cloudy blanket, fuzzy to the touch. She snuggles herself into the cozy mattress and smiles into her pillow, flushed with sleep and activity from the day. You and Bucky’s eyes meet over her, and to anyone on the outside looking in, you’re a happy, little family, the wholesome sitcom kind. 

He doesn’t mind that image at all.

The two of you walk out of the room after turning on her sound machine and glow worm night light, shutting the door softly behind you. You press your back against her door, hand still on the handle like it’s tethering you to reality, keeping you on solid ground. 

“This is probably... a really odd request but could you stay with me in bed... until I fall asleep?” he asks, bashful and hesitant. “I’ve been having these... night terrors lately, flashbacks, and it’s hard to sleep, so I thought maybe if someone was there with me, someone I trust then-”

“I’m happy to do it,” you smirk at his boyish smile and how timid he’s become all of a sudden, walking alongside him to his . “But if I fall asleep waiting for you to do it, don’t blame me.”

He chuckles, deep from his chest when he opens the door to his bedroom, leading you inside. You rush over and jump onto the mattress, plopping down on the soft blankets and pillows, watching him roll his eyes in a fond, affectionate sort of way that has your heart working overtime. He lays down beside you, chest rising and falling in one deep breath, none of you wanting to fall asleep despite your exhaustion. You want to savor the moment. Him and you so close.

You sit up, hair falling angelically over your face, a curtain over your eyes that shields you both from the outside world. His eyes drift to the soft pout of your lips, pink and how your tongue drags across the pillow of your bottom lip, curling at the edges when you see where his eyes lay. His eyes then drift off to what he hopes to be sleep, breathing slowing as he gracefully slips into slumber. You watch his hardened features soften as he does, lips parted ever so slightly, dark eyelashes kissing his cheeks, and you know that this is love.

It’s not more than fifteen minutes into his sleep that he shoots upright, sweat dripping down his face, coating his hair and skin, now matted on his clothes, and he’s hyperventilating, eyes glazed over with visions of his past. You wake up soon after, startled by his harsh breaths and incoherent mumbles, whispers of a former life.

“Please... please don’t. She’s all I have,” he says, voice breaking but at the same time he’s robotic, not awake, and a tear slips from his eye. He’s shaking in his covers and you know what he’s dreaming about. 

“Don’t hurt Winnifred, please, I’m the monster, not her. S-she shouldn’t be hurt, take me instead,” his heart seizes in his chest. He calls out your name in his tired voice, broken sobs escaping. 

You throw your arms around him, close to tears yourself, clutching him to your chest to wake him from the nightmare, cooing softly in his ear until his breathing calms and he’s silent.

“I’m okay, Winnifred’s okay, we just put her to bed, Buck. It’s just a dream, it’s not real...” you run a hand through his brunette locks, teasing the scalp and rubbing small stars into his back, bringing him slowly back in to the present and out of his own dark, warped thoughts. 

You move to put your hands on either side of his face, his eyes finally back to their normal glimmer, now awake. You brush your thumb against the stubble on his jaw, fingers massaging into the skin, “I’m here, just keep looking at me.”

He looks up at you, wide eyed and cautious of his every move, and to calm him down further, or possibly just to indulge your own wants, you kiss his forehead. Pressing lips against his cheek, his nose, his jaw, his temples, small groans escaping him when he takes your face in his hands and crashes his mouth against yours and it’s a symphony, harmony of moving lips. 

“No, no... we can’t,” he whispers, just barely in front of your lips. 

“Why?” you look at him, questioning.

“It-it’s not right...” he groans at the desperate expression on your face, hair mussed and lips swollen, throwing all caution to the wind. 

“Stop talking,” you silence him, shaking your head with a soft smile, and your lips are on his again.

He greedily swallows your moans when his hands fall down your body, each and every ample curve in the palm of his hand. His hands slides under your thighs, gripping the smooth flesh and picking you up so you straddle his hips, legs wrapped around him. You grind your ass into him, purring, his breath quickening along with your heaving chest. It’s hard to imagine, wanting something for so long and finally getting it, like reaching out for light and finally grasping it between your fingers, that starlight you’ve been searching for since that night on the porch with him. And it’s better than you dreamed it up to be. He breaks away, both of you open mouthed and you kiss the dimple that appears when his lips twitch upwards while looking at you.

You trail your fingers up his metal arm and he feels the pressure of your hand, the warmth of your skin and the sudden press of lips against the cool steel when you kiss his palm. 

He flips you both over so he’s above you, stubble scratching against your neck when he places sloppy, open mouthed kisses down your skin and sucks bruises on your most sensitive pulse points, a frenzy of tongue and teeth. A man untamed.

Bucky resurfaces and looks at you, lust and sincerity in his gaze, hungry, “Are you sure?”

“About what, Buck?”

“Us.”

“Unquestionably.”

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Memories

Characters: Steve Rogers

Summary: Steve thought he could outsmart the soul stone to get Natasha and Gamora back. He should have known better.

Content Warning: Heavy angst and Steve pulling a repeat of the stunt he pulled with the Valkyrie. I still feel like an asshole for writing this. 

Word Count: 1.8k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies. Please don’t hate me for this one. I’m still bitter AF over how Endgame played out for Steve and an evil little part of my mind conjured this up as an alternative. Which honestly, is kinda worse than what the Russo’s did. Sooo... whoops? If you’re here for some Steve angst, saddle up. If you need fluff in your life, maybe check out one of my other Steve fics, mmkay? I’ll be here for virtual hugs when it’s over, lovelies! XOXO - Ash

Memories

The twilight rays from Vormir’s dying sun cast a haunting glow over the barren wasteland. Steve looked off into the distance, his mind quiet for once. He’d made his decision before he left to return the stones, he couldn’t go to Vormir without at least trying to get Natasha and Gamora back. Steve had done a little poking around, some seemingly innocuous hypotheticals, trying to figure out a way to return the stone and bring one of his best friends back from the dead. Natasha shouldn’t have had to sacrifice her future for theirs. They didn’t trade lives. Except, Steve thought, when it was his own.

Steve had found a grim satisfaction that his old nemesis was trapped for eternity in such a desolate place. It was close enough to what Steve thought Hell might be that it seemed like a fitting end for a monster like Johann Schmidt. He had only seen the man briefly as he hurried into the shadows but Steve knew exactly who he was. 

Looking down at the glowing orange stone in his palm, Steve sighed. It was his last stone to put back and he figured it would all be worthwhile if it worked. Natasha and Gamora would get to return home to their friends and loved ones, and he would finally be at peace. He’d almost stayed back in 1948 with Peggy, it had been a close thing, but in the end he knew she went on to have an amazing life that he wasn’t destined to be a part of. He would always love her, and he would cherish his memories of her for the rest of his days, but it just wasn’t meant to be. So Steve got his long overdue dance and wished Peggy all the best in life before hopping forward through the decades to his last stop, 2014 - Vormir. 

It was because of Peggy and all that he’d been through that Steve was uniquely qualified for his last mission. Leaving Peggy to the life she was meant to have, left Steve with nothing else to lose. He was a man out of time, destined to forever feel like a stranger in his own modern life. He couldn’t think of a single thing that he could sacrifice to the cliffs of Vormir, and that was why he would be the perfect person to carry out the exchange. He set his wristband and the remaining Pym particles on top of a white envelope on a nearby rock, the envelope containing a letter saying goodbye and explaining how to get back to 2023 should Natasha not remember. He’d planned it all out for so long, he ran through his checklist like a mantra.

Steve pulled out his compass, wanting to see Peggy’s face one last time before it was all over. If only the world had been different, maybe things between them could have been different too. His mental checklist complete, Steve knew it was time. With no unnecessary flair or delay, Steve took four long strides to the edge of the cliff, and then over. His last thought was that falling off the cliff felt almost exactly like going down in the Valkyrie. There was a peaceful sort of deja vu to it and Steve found a smile tugging at his lips as he collided with hard stone. The world went black.

xxXxx

The sky was glowing red and pink, casting purple shadows over the shallow lake Steve woke up in. He sighed, defeated, realizing he’d failed. Natasha and Gamora were nowhere to be found and the damnable glowing orange stone sat in his hand like a beacon. Steve whipped out his compass to help locate where he was in relation to the cliff, squinting in the dim light to see the dials. Figuring out where he was, he snapped it shut, tucking the old compass back into his pocket and heading north.

“I am surprised to see you again, Captain Rogers.” Schmidt hissed from behind a pillar of rock. He had been slithering around, wraith-like, since Steve arrived atop the cliff for the second time. 

“You and me both.” Steve grit out, frustrated by his complete failure. Schmidt laughed, a high pitched, crazed sound, and Steve snapped, “What?” he demanded, “Enjoying my failure?”

“What failure? You completed your sacrifice, the stone is now yours to wield.” 

“What sacrifice? There’s nothing I love to sacrifice. That was the whole point.” Steve huffed.

Schmidt chuckled again, “You always were deluded, Captain.” 

Steve swore under his breath, storming off. He couldn’t deal with Schmit’s nonsense on top of everything else. He gathered up his wristband, tucked the letter in his pocket, and activated the particles to get him home.

xxXxx

“It’s good to see you back in one piece, pal.” Bucky said, clapping Steve on the shoulder. 

“Thanks, Buck. It’s good to be back.” Steve leaned in to hug his best friend.

Bruce joined them, still uneasy about the whole thing. “Did everything go as planned?” he asked nervously. 

“Yep,” Steve nodded, “Not a hitch.” He certainly wasn’t going to admit his failure to his friends, not when that would have included having to explain his second failed attempt to sacrifice his life for the greater good.

“Glad to hear it.” Bruce told him, finally breathing a sigh of relief. He collected the wristband from Steve and then hustled back to start shutting down the time travel launch pad. 

“How was it going back to our time? Did you finally get that dance like you’d hoped?” Bucky asked him as they walked back to the car. 

“It was nice being back in the Brooklyn I’m used to. No dance though, I never did have any luck with the dames. Not enough time while I was there anyway.” Steve shook his head with a chuckle.

“Really?” Bucky stared in disbelief, “I thought the first thing you would have done after returning the stone would be to track down Peggy.”

“Peggy who? Was that Dot’s sister? The redhead you were always setting me up with?” 

“Peggy, Steve.” Bucky drew her name out slowly for emphasis. 

Steve shook his head, “Not ringing a bell, Buck. Now, what are we doing for dinner? I’m starving. Didn’t have any free time to grab a bite while I was running around time and space, and it feels like it’s been days since I’ve eaten.” 

“Steve,” Bucky changed tactics cautiously, “Can I see your compass for a sec?” 

“Sure thing.” Steve pulled out the black metal disc and tossed it to Bucky. “I think we’ll find our way to Burger King faster with GPS though.” 

Bucky stopped mid-step, staring at the old black compass. It was familiar but also, not. On one side of the interior were the dials and white face he knew like the back of his hand, but on the other side was glossy black metal where the face of one Margaret “Peggy” Carter used to be. 

“Steve, what happened while you were putting back the stones?” Bucky asked, his voice low and commanding. His tone had Steve pausing and turning back to face him. Steve knew that tone, it was the same one Bucky had used when they caught Jimmy Tammlin pocketing candy at Mr. O��Malley’s shop. They’d known what he’d done, but needed to hear him admit it. 

Steve sighed, rubbing a large palm across the back of his neck. “I put the stones back and came home.” 

“Bullshit,” Bucky grabbed Steve’s wrist, lightning quick, and started dragging him across the yard away from the car. “Bull-fucking-shit, Steve. You changed something, you stubborn asshole. I don’t know what you did, and clearly you don’t remember it, but we’re gonna have to figure out what it was and what other damage you may have caused.” 

Bruce heard Bucky calling his name as they got closer to Pepper and Morgan’s house. The look on Bucky’s face was all Bruce needed to know that the mission hadn’t gone off without a hitch after all.

xxXxx

It took three days of tests and repetitive questions, of Bruce and Bucky taking turns grilling Steve about every single moment of his time travels. Steve did finally admit to walking off the cliff in Vormir, knowing it was inevitable. Bucky had stormed out at that point to god only knows where. When he came back halfway through the following day he looked ragged but significantly calmer. Sam accompanied him upon his return, looking equally ragged but supportive. He was never more than a few steps from Bucky’s side, occasionally leaning into whisper something to the brunette that would have him nodding and taking a steadying breath. Steve felt awful he had caused everyone so much distress but as he kept telling them, if it had brought Natasha and Gamora back it would have been for the best. 

By the end of the third day Bruce seemed to have figured something out, though it still didn’t make any sense to Steve. They told him it was fine, no further damage had been caused, and let him go back to his hotel room on his own. Steve sensed something was up but if they weren’t concerned enough to tell him, it wasn’t worth worrying himself over. The battle was over, at least for what he hoped would be a while, and Steve needed to get back to New York and start putting the pieces of his new life back together. Again. It was far from the first time, but Steve hoped that maybe it would be the last.

“No one tells him, ever.” Bucky demanded after Steve left the lab and was far enough away not to overhear them.

“I’m not entirely comfortable with…” Bruce whined lightly. 

Sam shook his head, unable to believe he was about to agree. “Bucky’s right. We’ll tell the others, make sure no one says anything. Though mentioning her to him doesn’t seem to stick, so it’s not like if someone says something that it’ll matter.”

Bucky nodded, gesturing at Sam as proof. “See! All we’d be doing is hurting him. And that man has had enough hurting for five lifetimes. No. One. Tells. Him. Agreed?” 

Bruce hung his head in defeat. “Okay, he never finds out.” 

Sam nodded solemnly, knowing it wasn’t the best option but the only one they had. 

Bucky stormed out, his heart aching for his best friend. He couldn’t really be surprised, Steve always had always been a self sacrificing little shit. He should have known better than to try to outsmart the stones. And now, because of that, they had taken the very last bit of love Steve had in his life: his memories. 

[ladymdc]

Wandering in the Dark

Well, I finished it.

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x F!mage Trevelyan (Noir AU/dark future/1930s) Rating: Explicit (for occasional smut, like 3 instances) Word Count: ~75,500 Chapters: 19/19 Summary: In a world on the verge of collapse, C.S. Rutherford did what he could to survive, at least until a routine case led him down a path he never expected to cross, and a dame with dark verdant eyes and a sharp wit strode into his office.

With nothing as it seemed, including her, perhaps it all wasn’t as hopeless as he thought.

Read it from the beginning - here & I have included CH.1 under the cut for funsies. ((For those who have been keeping up with it, I’ve included a direct link to the CH18 & I’m sure you can find the final chapter from there :D))

Special thanks to the following people: @laraslandlockedblues​, @windysuspirations​, @kawakaeguri​, @machatnoir​, @softlyue, @fadetastic​, @laurelsofhighever​, & @mssaboteur​ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ I may not talk to all of them every day or at all anymore, but I wanted to say thanks for supporting/encouraging me in some way at some point in this journey. I sincerely couldn’t have done this without you. 

The Resistance was irretrievably over; everything that could have been done had been done. He had never thought they would succeed, only a fool would believe they could, but he had never thought he would live to see the day the last Theirin was wiped from the face of Thedas.

This wasn’t the first time such rumors circulated, but it would be the last. Front and center on today’s paper was undeniable proof. The Theirin family crest affixed to the lapel of Amladaris’ suit jacket was a subtle but devastating blow to anyone still clinging to hope the Golden Age would someday return.

It had been over a decade since he last saw Alistair, but the loss stung no less for it. Perhaps even more so knowing the last words spoken to the man he once called a Brother were venomous and full of resentment. Now, there would never be an opportunity to correct that wrong, but it wasn’t like he had been going out of his way in an attempt to do so anyway. All that was left was to hope Alistair’s death was quick and painless. Though based on the sinister curl of Amladaris’ lip, it was anything but.

The thought did nothing for the migraine that had been plaguing him all morning. In addition to the throbbing tendrils taking root deep in his skull, there was also a slight halo around objects, a shimmery haze that wasn’t precisely seeing double but close enough to be an annoyance. It was one of those post-lyrium side effects he’d long since come to terms with. Once the coup took place, it was either risk injecting a tainted dose or quit.

It was an easy decision.

Automatically, he popped some aspirin into his mouth, swallowed it dry and reached for a cigarette. He tapped it twice on the desk and tucked it into the corner of his mouth before he brought the cupped lighter up, despising the slight tremor of his hands. He smoked in long, steady pulls. Repeatedly, his gaze dropped to the newspaper before him then at his watch to read the time as if it would somehow make it move faster. Eventually, the pounding in his head subsided only to be replaced by the telltale click-clack of high heels.

His interest was instantly piqued, and it had nothing to do with the shapely silhouette he could discern through the frosted glass. A lot could be determined by someone’s gait. The speed and force of their steps and the sounds it produced could indicate a wide array of emotions. This client didn’t possess the terrible wrath of a woman wronged nor the hesitant curiosity of one who suspects. She appeared to exude an air of calm indifference. A rare thing in a world gripped by fear and ruin.

Then, without one iota of hesitation, the door opened.

The woman was beautiful; her wavy, brunette hair smooth and shining. Her full lips an agreeable shade of ruby red. Her dark verdant eyes boldly held his gaze. Something flashed in their depths, green and bright, but then she blinked, and it was gone. One corner of her mouth lifted lazily.

“Rutherford.”

He could feel a sudden heat on the back of his neck at the way his name rolled off her tongue but was determined to pretend it wasn’t there. Her accent was Marcher, mixed with something else he couldn’t quite place.

She shut the door and took a seat in one of the two intentionally uncomfortable, wooden chairs before him. The woman looked at him expectantly.

Rutherford cleared his throat and mashed his cigarette into Amladaris’ left eye. “It seems I’m at a disadvantage, Miss—“

The marginal quirk of her lip became almost amused. “Trevelyan.”

His gut locked up; bile burned in his throat. Rutherford pressed his finger and thumb into the corners of his eyes. Trying to stamp out the visions swimming through his mind. It had been three years since Lord Protector Sethius Amladaris took control, and not a day went by that he was reminded of his unknowing role in the coup.

Having the propensity to keep his head down and work, he took notice something was off much too late. By the time Hawke stormed into his office to scream scathing accusations of his involvement, the damage had already been done. Lyrium tainted with Red had been injected into a majority of their ranks at evening rations. Red not only warped the mind but after the first hit, there was no turning back for without it there was only death. With only one source for the terrible substance available, turning the Order against country and crown was simple.

Only those with rank were given a choice. General Trevelyan was the first to refuse. Rutherford, the second. The difference, however, was only he lived because by way of answer, Rutherford put a bullet between Major General Stannard’s Red-tainted eyes.

Meeting the late General Trevelyan’s daughter’s inquisitive stare, he scraped his bottom teeth over his top lip where the scar from escaping the ordeal was. There was a brief flash of prickling numbness. He immediately regretted drawing attention to it as her eyes briefly roamed over his mouth. The room suddenly felt far too warm. It would be easier not to make eye contact, but it would be cowardly to look away.

Rutherford yanked on the knot of his tie to loosen it. “Why are you here?” It came out much harsher than he would have liked.

She ignored the outburst. “I have use of someone with your talents.”

“Talents?” He scoffed, fishing out another cigarette. The dregs of his migraine were flaring up with force.

“Yes, talents,” she insisted.

Twice, he tapped the cigarette on the desk. “And what might those be?” As far as he was aware, failure and survival were his only ‘talents.’ He had an odd propensity for both.

“We both know why you keep checking your watch.”

Despite the seriousness of her insinuation, he couldn’t help smiling. “And what makes you think you know anything about me?” He asked before fitting the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.

“Are you sure you want to play this game?” she asked, plucking off some unnoticeable piece of offense from her charcoal grey skirt before returning her dark green eyes to his amber. “Because I do know everything about you.”

Rutherford leaned back in the chair and crossed ankle over knee. “Please.” He blew his smoke out defiantly. “Do tell.”

She smiled tolerantly though his cigarette smoke. “Cullen Stanton Rutherford, the second eldest child of four. Mia, the eldest, your brother Branson, and Rosalie the youngest. You joined the Royal Order the day you turned eighteen. At twenty, you took your first lyrium dose, and your parents died that same year as the Blight ran rampant through the countryside. Then came Kinloch—”

“Enough,” he gritted out. A breath hissed out of him, and he turned his head to avoid her piercing gaze. It took a while before he noticed the dull ache in his jaw from clenching his teeth as he glared at the newspaper displaying the result of his most devastating failure.

“He’s alive you know,” she said, tipping her chin toward the paper.

“No shit.”

Trevelyan made a sound that could have been a laugh. “Don’t be thick.”

“I’m not. I—“ He sat up a little straighter when Trevelyan suddenly stood but didn’t rise as he should have.

“You are,” she insisted as she braced one arm on the desk and leaned over. Her long, flowing locks fell over her shoulder. The scent of her, sweet and floral with notes of something akin to spring rains, wafted his direction. Briefly, it overpowered the smoke thick in the air around him. Rutherford was momentarily struck a little dumb by it.

The motion of her hair drew his attention away from her face toward… other assets. The neckline of her white blouse cut dangerously low and there was little for him to do but glare at her when she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. He knew what she was doing, and he hated it worked so easily, especially because he jumped a little when the silk of her glove brushed his fingers.

Smirking, Trevelyan placed his cigarette between her lips and tucked something into his hand. The metal was warm, and he errantly wondered how warm she’d feel, but then his thumb reflexively ran along the familiar grooves.

His stomach bottomed out. “This could be any coin,” he snapped, holding the silver and gold coin between finger and thumb for emphasis.

“It could,” she agreed. “But it isn’t. Did you know you’re bleeding?” With the cigarette pointing down and held between thumb and middle finger, she touched the very tip of her nose.

Rutherford scrambled to find a handkerchief, but his shirt was already ruined. While he attempted to clean himself up and staunch the flow, she took one long drag and held the cigarette back out to him. He hesitated to take it, distracted by the bright red imprint of her lips upon it.

After a moment of inaction, she leaned forward and placed it between his slightly parted lips and a quiet thrill ran through him at her forwardness. The faint taste of her only served to agitate him further, and she knew it.

That semi-amused curve to her mouth was back. “I can always find someone else, so come along or don’t, it matters not to me. Either way you have your luck back. Perhaps that’s all that’s been missing all these years.” At that she buttoned a single button on her jacket, further accentuating the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts, and departed.

The woman never even hinted at what she wanted from him. Like the eye of storm, she was serene and a tad refreshing, but then left chaos and destruction in her wake. His mind was positivity reeling at what she vaguely suggested as he was left with far too many questions and not a single answer.

Rutherford owed Alistair his life. If it weren’t for the Wardens, he would have rotted in Kinloch. At the time, he felt there was nothing to thank them for. The mistakes he made were too grave, the horrors endured too fresh, and his wounds still weeping. Time healed the latter. The former two points, however… Well, they never left, and only more had been added over time. But if there was a way for him to take something he fucked up and make it right, he shouldn’t still be sitting there.

He snuffed the cigarette out on Amladaris’ right eye. There were few things he needed to grab, all within reach. Smokes, lighter, jacket and his emergency bag which contained an assortment of necessities and a good deal of cash should the regime ever care to come after him again. Within moments he was able to rush after her.

“Wait! I—“ he came to a grinding halt at the sight of her leaning against a car expectantly.

“Well, that didn’t take long did it?” Her voice was full of dry amusement.

He scowled. “Shut up.”

“And here I thought you’d be glad to see I waited.” Trevelyan’s pout shifted into something openly appraising as her gaze blatantly raked up his body. “I know I’m glad to see you’re interested.”

He was blushing. Knew he was blushing and the laziest smile he’d ever seen blooming across her lovely face did nothing to alleviate it. Rutherford pinched the bridge of his nose because that… that was dangerous. His entire body had heated through, and it had everything to do with the way she seemed to know how to push all of his buttons.

She laughed then, a high and bright sound that made his hand drop reflexively. Her smile widened a little when their gazes locked once again. His heart was racing, and he was confused as to why.

“Alright grump,” she chirped, opening the passenger door. “Get in. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

Her laughter and choice of address were unexpected, and he felt himself breathing out a small huff of amusement as he stepped off the curb and reached in to toss his bag into the backseat. “What did you just call me?”

“Grump.”

“No. Don’t. I don’t like it,” he said, voice muffled from trying, in vain, to wipe away the stupid grin stretching across his face as he stood straight. The smile felt odd, maybe because it felt real.

“Are you sure? It seems like you do very much.”

What he did like, oddly enough, was how her standing on the curb put her almost face to face with him. “I really don’t.” He shook his head, smile finally fading away. “Preferably Rutherford, or Cullen if you must.”

“Alright, Cullen,” she said very slowly as if savoring the feel of his name in her mouth. She extended out a gloved hand. “Preferably Evelyn, or Trevelyan if you must.”

It took him a moment, almost a moment too long but he accepted. It wasn’t a handshake, it was something else, and it bothered him. He abruptly pulled his hand back and clenched it into a fist at his side to prevent himself from wiping it off on his pants.

Her expression shifted. It was subtle, but Rutherford breathed a little easier at the hardness in her eyes for the last thing he deserved was anyone’s warmth or acceptance no matter how much he may want it deep down.

[ecofinisher]

Off to Rust (Adrigami fanfic)

Chapter 4

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21137411/chapters/50573717

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13415645/4/Off-to-Rust

https://www.wattpad.com/800098213-off-to-rust-chapter-4

The fencing class stood in the queue inside a dark room in the middle of the crowd, which stood near to the railway of the rollercoaster, they were going to take.

“Are you sad, you couldn’t see any ladies in red dancing, Amir?” Etienne asked looking back at the twins.

“We were too young for it anyway, Etienne” Amir mentioned glancing at the shorter boy.

“I don’t think they would take their clothes off, mostly since it’s for almost all ages the roller coaster here”

“He’s right” Zeynep added to their conversation. “Last time when I heard they were gonna take this roller coaster down, I really thought they would, but they changed everything”

“They renovated it and changed the theme” Laura explained. “But many people are going to miss the old one”

“I have never been in anyone here, not even in the past” Adrien stated earning a nod from Kagami, which listened to the conversation of the group.

“You don’t have to worry. All the roller coasters here are safe. They are checked for its security every day and Zeynep was here too, so you know it’s not dangerous” Amir explained making Adrien nod.

“Well that sounds reassuring” Kagami faltered a little.

“Come on Kagami, it’s not that bad. We’re all going,” Eveline said looking back at the blue-haired girl.

“I’m there too Kagami, we can sit together if you want and if you’re afraid you can hold my hand or my arm as tight as you want” Adrien offered smiling at the girl.

“Or he’ll be the one screaming like a girl all the ride long” Mohamed mentioned making the group laugh.

“Aren’t we all going to scream during the ride?” The blonde asked making Mohamed shrug his shoulders.

“Yeah most likely,” Replied the Egyptian boy. “This roller coaster isn’t also the fastest one according to the brochure,”

“Which one is it then?” Asked Kagami curious.

“I think it’s the gray one, where we saw very close up as we were walking the street down to the entrance” The Swiss girl mentioned.

“That one is pretty high thought” Kagami mentioned earning a nod from the girls.

“I want to go to that one later, that will be amazing,” Amir said looking at his brother, which nodded.

“I’m most likely to skip that one” Etienne added earning a nod from Laura.

“Me too”

“Of course you would,” Amir said crossing his eyes smirking at the boy.

“Why don’t we all start by the lowest roller coasters and then we go picking with the time the faster ones?” Suggested Zeynep the group. “I know, which ones are the fastest ones and a few that could be fine to start with?”

“Why not?” Answered Etienne looking at the others. “Do you all agree?”

“How fast is this one?” Asked Kagami.

“How fast is it Zeynep?” Questioned Laura making Zeynep shrug her shoulders.

“50-60 kilometers?”

“That’s like driving inside the cities,” Adrien pointed out watching the group nod in agreement.

“Look, it’s almost our turn” Eveline mentioned walking forward as a small group of people moved forward and waited for the people that sat inside the wagons leave the vehicle from the other side and in each row two people entered sitting down on the wagon and pulled back to them the safety bar. A staff member passed by the wagons moving shortly on the bars to check if it was locked up, afterward the man gave a thumb up and watched the wagon leave slowly the station, then a minute later the next wagon arrived with other passengers, which had to leave the ride as it had ended for them.

“Spread out, so we can all be in the same round” Laura mentioned walking a few rows back along with Eveline, then stopped to see Etienne had paired up with Zeynep while the twins went together and Kagami teamed up with Adrien.

“Aww that little girl looks so happy” Adrien mentioned smiling as he saw a short redheaded girl laugh, who sat on one of the carts that was in the middle of the carriages with the father, which looked felicitous about seeing the state of her daughter. “I don’t remember the last time I and my parents were this happy” Adrien mentioned neutral as Kagami stood beside him rolling her eyes up at him, seeing him down.

“It will get better in the future, I promise” Kagami cheered the blonde up as she grabbed him by his hands. “It might just take a little more time” Kagami noted making Adrien smile a little and the two observed the train move forwards leaving the station and in front of the two were doors made of iron, which separated the group from the railway and the two stood close to the door to observe the wagon disappear in the dark, afterward Kagami looked back and smiled as she saw another set of wagons attached to each other tax in and stop in front of the station, thereafter the safety bars got unlocked and the passengers lifted it up to get out of the other side of the station. Adrien looked at the Japanese girl, which felt a little anxious and Adrien placed his hand on her shoulder assuring her, everything would go just fine.

The door opened and Adrien entered into the car, then held his hand out for Kagami to help her get into the cart and both sat inside it and Adrien pulled the safety bar back to the two, then kept looking at Kagami, which observed in front of her the students of the fencing class get in and Eveline looked back and waved at Kagami with a smile, which Kagami returns back.

“You’re feeling tensed at the moment?” Adrien asked watching Kagami roll her eyes up to think.

“At the moment, just a little bit” The Japanese girl answered to her friend.

A staff member passed by the train to check, if the safety bars were locked successfully by pulling on them, soon as he arrived at the last wagon he gave a thumb up and the wagon moved forwards entering into the dark space, then on the right side, where Kagami sat on the wall she noted a green light and saw a couple of beer bottles standing on a platform and from the inside the bottles fizzed up light green effects up in the air like fireworks, making Kagami smile and pull on Adrien’s shoulder for him to look at the side and see it too.

“Oh” Adrien replied at the sight of it, after that the two looked forward into the darkness, slowly noting, that they were going to pass by a tall house with white-colored windows, which was lightened up by the headlight of the carriage, which was on the front of the first cart.

“We’re going around the house aren’t we?” Asked Mohamed as the cart rolled up slow around the building while all passengers observed the building in the middle of the sphere.

“I’m not really fond of the new theme they gave this roller coaster, but at least they kept the old soundtrack. Not the original, but also not a bad one” Zeynep mentioned her groupmates.

“This question just got into my mind right now, but since it’s dark in here and we barely can’t see each other here. Is it dangerous to have our hands out of the cart?” Etienne questioned awaiting an answer from anyone of the group.

“I have no idea” The Swiss descendant girl responded. “But I think you can without a problem”

“Then we better keep our hands down, Etienne” Eveline mentioned making the twins laugh.

“I think this would only be a problem, if we were taller” Mohamed pointed out at the other boy.

“Adrien, look they also have the Eiffel Tower” Kagami hinted as the wagons were higher, circulating the grey-colored copy of the French monument.

“You’re right” The blonde boy responded gazing at the Eiffel tower next to them. While listening to the soundtrack of the ride Kagami leaned back on the friend holding her eyes up at the monument and sensed the French boy place his hand on her shoulder and she rolled her eyes back to the darkness, where she very slightly could recognize Adrien’s shadow sitting there beside her.

“I did grab your shoulder, didn’t I?” Adrien asked making the friend chuckle, soon the music in the ride changed slightly into a circus-themed one and the carriage had reached the top, rolling on a straight line, afterward the music started to have less electronica in it, only having the famous cirque theme airing during the ride. At that moment the train went on the rail the way down in the dark around the sphere passing through blue-lightened cloud-themed loops shining around the railway, where the train with the passengers passed, which cried excited as they passed inside the loops.

“Woooohoooo!” All the passengers inside the train yelled during their descent to the destination, passing by cardboard-made clouds and a hot air balloon. With the circus-themed song nearly ending the ride of the group was almost done, afterward they passed under a cathedral made by cardboard inspired by the famous Notre dame, followed by a couple of street lanterns, where the train passed in the middle of them, soon their last sight was passing by cardboard dancing women holding their right leg up for the dancing and the carriage had slowed down, as it arrived the straight ground of their line, slow-rolling to a reddish-yellow illuminated place, which was the station, where the group had entered to board the roller coaster.

“This was awesome!” Etienne chanted clapping earning a nod from Eveline.

“Look there is another train right in front of us. They might send every minute or two a train up the roller coaster” Eveline calculated earning a nod from the brunette boy. “I wonder how many trains they have”

“We gotta get back here again, Mohamed. It’s way more worn riding in the dark!” Amir shouted out excited earning a nod from the brother.

“Rolling down felt amazing. I really enjoyed it guys” Adrien confessed gladly making the group smile.

“That’s great Adrien” Mohamed agreed. “What about you, Kagami?”

“Although it confused me in the dark a little, I gotta admit it felt great. I loved the adrenaline kick I got as it went down in the darkness” The Japanese girl confessed the twins, which looked at each other with a smile.

“Where are we going next, guys?” Laura asked looking back at the group, seeing the twins and Adrien shrug their shoulders while the rest just sat there in the wagon waiting for a suggestion.

“I don’t know, but I think on the map before I saw that the closest ride to us is the bobsled track. This means we’re later in the Switzerland-themed section,” Zeynep explained the group.

“Yeah we could go there” Adrien added earning a nod from the most of the group.

“Shall we all go there?” The Turkish girl asked seeing all fencing students nod. “Great, that’s our next stop” The tan-skinned girl mentioned while their train rolled into the station, getting unlocked up, so they could climb out of the train to leave through the exit corridor on the left side.

[deadpooly]

Can you write a poly story or oneshot between Steve Nat Bucky and Steve

Whoops, my hand slipped. It ended up being 4761 words. My bad, but im not even sorry. Also, this is undeditied so sorry for the rushed pace of the story and any grammer mistakes uwu.

Also, this totally disregards Civil War and some points in The Winter Soldier. I also gave buckynat some history because I love them and it helped build this one shot.

This has been happening for a really long time now, Bucky trying to get Steve to go out with someone while he goes off with another girl. This time Bucky is saving Steve from yet another back alley brawl. And only this time, Steve is willing to try something new in this conversation.

“Come on Stevie, please? For me?” Bucky’s pleading eyes looked down into Steve’s.

“Damn it, you are not allowed to use your charm on me. No I will not go to the movies with some dame you choose for me. I don't want her.” he told Bucky, his arms were crossed and his jaw set in his stubborn look that showed he was determined. Bucky just stood there.

“Well what d'ya want then?”

“You damn well know what I want. You’ve known me all your stupid wasted life. How could you not know by now?” Steve replied, turning around and stomping off away from the alleyway Bucky just saved him from. The brunette sighing and running to catch up with Steve.

“Stevie,” Bucky said cautiously, dragging him into another nearby alley (this time with no one to beat up Steve) “I want to stay with ya, you know that right. I’ll cancel her okay we can stay in your room tonight. But your gonna have to explain. I don't know what you want.”

“Why do you keep trying to set me up with these dames?” he asked, he was clearly frustrated and his eyes showing his hurt. “Your not making it easy, just let me down slowly. You don't need to set me up they wont be good enough.” and he was stomping off again to his apartment hoping Bucky wasn't following him. Though he was praying that he would come by later.

I>

“Hey Stevie? I know you are in there.” Bucky’s happy voice rang through the door and Steve jumped up as fast as he could without giving himself a heart attack. He was at the door fast that he could blink and throwing it open to see Bucky standing there, his hair fluffed up and a goofy smile on his face.

“I was hoping you would actually come by. Sorry for snapping at ya.” Steve said letting his best friend in through the door.

“Its fine.” Bucky waved him off and sat beside him on the couch. “I want to know though,” he asked running a hand through his hair. “What was it that you wanted? I actually don't know.”

“Of course you don't.” Steve said bringing his knees up to his chest. “I don't think I could tell you without something bad happening.” his breaths were getting messy and his heart rate definitely raised from nervousness. And Bucky being Bucky, started to assure him that he wouldn't get mad or do anything.

“I will love your punk ass no matter what. You can trust me, I swear Stevie.” he assured him placing a hand softly on his shoulder.

Steve didn't know what to say, he forgot what to say. All he could remember was that two things and a short conversation later led to him hugging Bucky and the two slotting their mouths together in a very late delayed kiss.

It was sweet, it was late, it was early, it was precious, it was private and it was theirs. It was also the first of many.

I>

The room was cold, the wrestling ring was beat up, as were the people who were just sparing in the center of it. A crowd of instructors surrounding the ring watching the two subject kick and punch at each other. They had an impressive rhythm, in tune to a song it looked like a dance that wouldn't stop. Red hair flying and mixing with a head of dark hair on a man with a metal arm. The girl swung a kick up to the mans face and he caught it with his metal arm and pulled it down causing the girl to lose balance. She however, jumped on her other leg and wrapped it around the man's neck and brought them both to the ground banging their heads on the rough flooring of the wrestling ring.

“Enough!” a loud woman's voice boomed throughout the room. “Go wrap any wounds and be out here ready again in one minute. A threat doesn't wait and neither will I.” she finished before waving her hand and sending a rather tall man after the two to stand outside of the dirty change room. The two assassins made their way in and quickly wrapped each others wounds without speaking or making any other contact.

“I’m sorry Natalia.” James said pulling her hair behind her shoulders and pulling it up into a ponytail after cleaning a cut on her face.

“You have no reason to apologize James. It doesn't matter, the more we break each other, the more time we have to do this.” she replied standing up off of the bench and looking into James’ eyes. They gave her chills every time she made eye contact and the light blue reminded her of  the iced pond where their first mission together was. The first time after months of training they had their first conversation.

“I wish it wasn't like this.” he told Natalia looking down into the emerald of her eyes and holding her hand.

“It wont, we can run away. It will be better James.” Natalia returned. She intertwined their fingers and brought their hands up close to their chests.

“Something tells me that they will find out I can speak, and do this. Then they will rip us apart.” he told her sorrowfully. His eyes were filled with sadness and regret for what he has been made to do. “I just want this to last Natalia.”

“James, nothing lasts forever.” she said before getting up on her toes and bringing their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss. James brought his hand up to cup her chin and make the delicate moment last. But just like Natalia said, nothing lasts forever.

Soon they were called back out onto the mats and each given a punishment for taking too long.

I>

Eventually, they were caught. No matter how careful they were. And because of this they both forgot about each other and pushed their separate ways. They didn't want to forget, but even they could not overcome the machines that can take away precious fragments of your own life.

I>

“Natasha! Come on wake up!” Steve pleaded after a mission went a little sideways. “Come on, I can't lose you!” he held the redhead in his arms she was unconscious after being thrown from an explosion and Steve rushed to her immediately. She had some wounds that looked really bad and Steve really wanted to punch something.

“It’s okay,” she said weakly with a cough. “I’m fine, just go get the bad guy, Cap.” and she was out again. Steve set her down and four minutes later the mission was complete. They weren't as incognito as originally planned, but they were twice as dangerous.

When they were done Steve immediately went back over to Natasha, scooped her up in his big arms and carried her onto the jet to go back to base. She laid on a hospital stretcher that was for emergencies He sat there waiting occasionally trying to make her wake up until she did.

“Hey, soldier. Don't be so tense. I feel your nervousness and its making it hard to sleep here.” she said with an eye open looking at Steve, who gave a rather loud sigh of relief.

“Okay, you are alright.” he assessed, “How are you feeling.”

“How do you know i'm alright? I could be dying.” Natasha challenged. “And I am doing alright, thank you for asking.”

“I know enough about you, that if you are making annoying quips that you are fine.”

“You know enough about me? Hm Rogers, if you weren't careful, id say you care about me.”

“And I do.” is all he says before they enter the conference room.

I>

“I care about you too, it's just that I feel like the last time I said those words something bad happened.” Natasha tells Steve as they leave to room together. It's almost lunch so they are heading off to a burger place to kill some time.

“You don't have to be afraid to care about someone.”

“I know, but it's how I care about you. It's different. I can't remember.” she told him, they were walking side by side on a sidewalk that was pretty much empty on their way to the burger place.

“Natasha…” Steve started carefully. “You don't have to be afraid to care about me like that, I understand how you feel.”

“No you don't.” she turned and looked at him, they stopped walking and now they were looking at each other while cars passed by and a few pedestrians walked around them. “I don't know. Last time I felt this something really bad happened but I can't remember. You don't understand Steve, you don't know how I feel. And im pretty sure you don't feel it either.”

“Natasha, sometimes I feel like you are going to get yourself hurt and if that happened it would hurt me too. If you are in pain you don't have to do it alone.” he told her. His hands found themselves on her arms and she just stared up at him before slightly leaning in for something her body getting closer to his before she gasped and walked away. Steve shook his head and followed after her.

I>

“What do you want me to be?”

“How about a friend?”

I>

“Bucky?”

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

I>

The same night Natasha gave Steve the file, she went home to her room and cried. A certain pain stretching across her mind and seeing the Winter Soldiers face started it. She didn't know what she felt but she wanted to see Steve once more before he ran off to find his best friend.

Sudden memories etched themselves in her mind, just a few but they were still there.

She sat on her bed wiping any stray tears and pulled out any extra files she could find on herself, but nothing about the Winter Soldier or James Buchanan Barnes. James. She pulled out her phone and called the only person she wanted to see in that moment. Relief flooded her when Steve picked up and confirmed that he could come to her place.

When he arrived, her eyes were still puffy and she immediately invaded Steve space and wrapped her arms around his waist and cried. He put his arms around her and rubbed small circles on her back.

“Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?” he tried asking his voice soft like a whisper.

“I think I remember him too.”

“Who?”

“James.”

Then they spent the next hour or so looking through extra shield files and talking trying to break through Natasha’s mind while Steve shed a few tears over Bucky Barnes. The moment was silent, each doing their own things but appreciating the others presence. Natasha’s memories were very sudden, and if she had a say, she would think that the Red Room was easy on her compared to Hydra on James.

“You loved him. More than a friend?” she asked, feeling as if she was invading on something private. All Steve did was nod and scoot closer to Natasha who hugged him and looked up at his face before inching closer. 

“I think I did too.” she also said before placing a gentle kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. As she was about to pull back Steve moved and closed the short distance between them and they kissed, mouths moving quietly and slowly. The only thing to be heard were the hearts breaking and short breaths of the two avengers.

I>

On their own time they occasionally went out to find Barnes and rarely found anything on him. Sometimes they got a lead, other times they actually caught him but he got away before they could move any closer.

It went on like that for months. Tony offered to help and Steve had wanted to say yes but Natasha thought that this was a personal matter and she wanted it to be just her and Steve. But now Steve was inside of a really small apartment while Natasha was keeping watch on the roof, he gut tells her that this will be the same as all other attempts to find James. Steve hasn't reported through comms yet and she is still waiting on the roof. Waiting. Hoping. Then she looks over her shoulder and sees him, trying to go unnoticed walking through a crowd.

“Steve, I see him.”

“Where is he?” his voice cracks through the comm.

“Trying to run away in a crowd. Should I engage?” she asked ready to go on the word. Natasha got up and is now standing on the edge of the roof. Then she hears Steve sigh. “I’m losing visuals, Steve.

“No, let's just wait.” he says.

“Wait for what?” 

“He will come to us. I know it.”

Only many more months to wait. When would James decide to come to them?

I>

Natasha was getting anxious, Steve was going into a depressed state. They shared their intimate moments and went their separate ways. Every now and then the team would assemble for a short mission, it was a good reason to see everyone again. The tower was quiet and calming and Natasha would every now and then go to the roof and stare at the cars passing by below. Clint would come by and comfort her, he was annoying and an idiot but he still cared. 

Steve would go to the training room and knock a few punching bags into the walls and break them open, then sheepishly apologize to Tony who waved it off with a smile and went to reinforce them. Sam was a big help for him, since he was helping a bit and could have a sense of what he was feeling. Every now and then Natasha and Steve would crawl to each others bed and stay awake, not able to fall asleep hoping that the person they were waiting for would show up.

Natasha was hoping for James. Steve was waiting for Bucky. There wasn't a guarantee that they would get either but one could dream.

Natasha would wrap her arms around Steve’s torso and snug her face against his side. Steve would turn and place his big arms around Natasha’s small frame, and they would sit like that until morning came or they fell asleep in a dangerous peace that most of the time brought nightmares or dreams of what could have been.

Small assurances to each other that he will come. Then they would wake up and go about their days focusing on other things and hiding their vulnerabilities away. Because for Natasha, a mission or a threat doesn't wait. And for Steve, is always looking for something to do, and the majority of the time, he knows what he wants.

I>

The Winter Soldier always knew what he was doing, so did James and so did Bucky. He could say that they were the same person, but he was only half of himself when he was James and he was basically locked in the trunk with the Winter Soldier driving when he came out.

Bucky was his main self, and he knew for a fact that he is starting to get every memory back, and Steve Rogers was in every single one. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss him or want to leave him behind. 

James was the man he was when he was with Natasha. Somehow he gotta keep those memories. Even if he was part Winter Soldier and part Bucky Barnes, that was probably the middle ground and he missed Natasha as well. He knew for a fact that he loved both of them at some point in his long life. He only remembers a few things as the Winter Soldier though, and those are his worst memories and he hates the days when they come in, like a rock being bashed around the inside of his head. The Winter Soldier though, remembers both Natasha and Steve and that is what brought him to where he is right now.

Contemplating if he will go back to them or not. He is slowly tipping towards going to them though. Bucky or James or whatever he was these days knew that the two avengers where looking for him, but he also knew that they had stopped and were waiting for him to come back to them.

And that sounded really nice. Being alone sucked, especially if he could get help. So he made a decision to go to them.

I>

It wasn't hard to track Steve’s daily routine. Natasha was a little harder, but he knew her enough to figure out her pattern. So he stood at the foot of the tall Avengers tower, he moved to go stand in the darkness of a nearby alley and he took in a deep breath.

Then, his deep breaths turned into panicked sucks of air and he turned and ran from everything back to a dark room where he continued to hide.

I>

“Do you know what happened today? While we were in the gym?” Steve approached Natasha who was drying her wet hair from a shower in her room. She shook her head in confusion and straightened her back a bit.

“He came to the tower.” he told her and Natasha dropped her towel and her eyes showed no emotion. “Tony, told me. Said there was inconspicuous behavior that alerted security measures in JARVIS’ coding.

“He left didn't he? Overwhelmed?” she guessed and threw her towel on the bed as she stood up. “You still sure we should wait?”

Steve hesitated as he sat on the edge of her bed and placed his hands in his lap. He fidgeted a bit with his shirt and fingers before looking up at Natasha.

“I honestly don't know.” his shoulders sagged and his breath came out deep and he shook his head. “It's been months of waiting, and when he shows up finally, he turns and leaves.”

“Well, I don't know about you,” Natasha started, she sat down beside Steve “but i'm going after him tomorrow. He forgets that im an ex russian spy but old habits die hard. I have questions and I will be finding my answers soon Rogers, my other question is are you coming with me or not?”

Steve gave a long sigh and nodded his head his eyes getting heavy with exhaustion. He really is running out of options any ways, so they might as well try again.

I>

“What are you doing here.” Bucky stands on his guard looking at Steve in his small room. He didn't see Steve follow him, or enter his room.

“It took a while but we decided to come after you once we got a good enough lead.” Steve replied, not mentioning that they got Tony’s help to track him down.

“Is she here?” he asked flexing his metal hand.

“Yeah, she’s keeping cover on the roof.” he replied setting his shield down on the floor and walking towards Bucky calmly.

“Why did you come here?” he asks, hesitantly stepping forward.

“Missed you.” Steve tells Bucky, as if it's that simple. Steve stops walking towards Bucky and stands a few feet away from him. His hand starts to reach for Bucky but at the last second he pulls it back and keeps it steady at his side.

“You don't even know if its still me.” Bucky knows Steve is stubborn, whether he wants to go or not, Steve wont leave him now. However it depends on how he answers this statement to see if he is worth keeping around. Bucky knows he might not be Bucky anymore than he would be James, and he would be lying if he said it doesn't hurt at all knowing what he would have lost between two people.

“It doesn't matter, we can help you.” the desperateness in Steve’s voice sounds so broken from the national icon that people think he is, it's far from confident and assured and it kind of soothes Bucky to know that it is just for him in this moment. What Steve actually feels for him.

“I remember you.” is all he tells him with a short nod.

“I could never forget you.” is what Steve replies with. “It was you and me, ‘til the end of the line. I could never forget you Buck.” and this time Steve steps forward until he is fully in Bucky’s space. Bucky is about to step back from being crowded and just having the spy genes in him to keep distance but instead he mentally kicks himself for wanting to run from Steve and he holds his ground. Now though, Steve is really close. Bucky feels as if he is moving too fast, his memories with Steve and Natalia and the pain from Hydra wanting him to stop. He doesn't know what to feel right now. But he stays and Steve’s hand is now resting on his arm.

“I remember the Natalia too,” he admitted, his breath coming out a bit short. “I think, I might miss you guys.”

“We miss you too. I really hope you know that. It’s killing Natasha right now that she can't be here.”

“I feel empty.” he concluded.

“You don't have to. You can come back to the tower with us.” Steve pleaded, his voice growing back strong from the broken tone from earlier.

“Alright then.” Bucky sighed, he slouched in on himself as he sat down on the bed nearby. “Lets go.”

I>

“I don't know who I am.” Bucky says turning away from them. “Or who you want me to be.” they could see him drag his metal hand down his face in exhaustion. This time around he was in Steve’s room. He was sitting on the bed beside Steve and Natalia was on the floor in the corner. They haven't spoken yet, but they knew each other enough to see what they felt when they made eye contact. Longing, patience, love, heartbreak, pain, affection, and each one made Bucky feel comfortable while giving him an urge to run again.

“We want you to be you,” Steve said. “Natasha and I love you however you want to be. You are who you want to be and we will still be here. None of us are going to walk out on you.”

Bucky’s hands sat in his lap and he was staring at them while he fidgeted thinking about his next move. He could tell that Steve was anxious to get some sort of touch or assurance of reciprocated feelings, but he didn't know what Natasha was feeling quite yet.

“Natalia?” he asked looking up from his hands and reaching out. Natasha was startled but she got up and slowly stepped towards him.

“James.” was her only reply but she knelt down in front of him and tetitavley placed her hands on his knees in front of her.

“Nothing lasts forever?” he questioned. But Natasha gave him a beautiful smile and looked into his eyes and said,

“This does James. All three of us will last forever.” she told him with confidence and from her position she wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck waited for him to do the same. 

Steve watched a single tear slide down Bucky’s face and he wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. He felt as if he was intruding on their moment until Natash broke away from James and turned to him. She leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips before she quietly left the room.

I>

It's been three long months of hesitant touches and smiles and resurfacing memories in the tower. Bucky becoming himself again. Or as much of himself as he could be. It was a mix between ‘James’ and ‘Bucky’ and it was perfect. He became more charismatic, charming, intelligent but still having all of his spy aspect, even if he didn't like that part.

Natasha would kiss him on the cheek and Steve would hug him and their lips would brush slightly before Steve pulled away from thinking he was invading Bucky’s space. He would see Natasha and Steve share intimate touches and kiss and cuddle and he would be honest when he said he was a little bit jealous that he didn't get that yet. Bucky just played it off though and teased Steve about it and watch Steve go red and apologetic but it didn't really mask his jealousy that much. Well he was jealous until he realized that they were waiting for him to initiate those connecting touches. 

Three months of continuous conversations, sometimes they would curl into one of their beds to sleep from night terrors or loneliness. Bucky felt more lonely though as he realized he missed being able to give loving touches to Steve and Natalia. It was one of those nights when he decided to take that step. All three of them curled in Natasha’s bed, Natasha in the middle of the two super soldier and the room was dark, but Bucky could hear Steve’s breaths and could tell that he was still awake.

“Stevie?” he asked, hoping to get a response.

“Yeah Buck?” Steve responded with and Bucky searched the bed to find his hand. Their fingers curled together, skin and clean metal. Using this, he pulled Steve’s hand forward so his body would shift forward and though it slightly squashed Natasha forward a bit Steve was in kissing distance and his face close to Bucky’s over Natasha’s head. “What’re you d-”

And Bucky cut him off when he connected their lips slowly. Steve quickly got with the program and kissed back, moving his lips fluently with Buckys and quiet breaths filling the dark room. Lips were parting open and reconnecting and being tugged at by teeth before both parties pulled away from each other.

Bucky leaned back and left a lingering kiss on Natasha’s forehead and wrapped his arms over her body so they could touch Steve’s waist, and Steve moved in closer.

I>

“I heard you boys messing around last night.” Natasha said to Bucky when he woke up the next morning.

“You weren't asleep?” he asked.

“Nope. But I must say, you are making me feel rather neglected.” she joked with him and snuggled against him under the covers, Steve was gone out for a morning run with Sam and apparently didn't bother to wake Bucky up for it.

“Didn't want to wake you кролик.” a smile crossed Bucky’s face and he moved in closer to Natasha.

“I hate it when you call me that.” Natasha shook her head at the pet name calling her a bunny before looking up and getting what she missed out on the night before. This kiss was more fast paced but still held the sweetness and longing in it which made it worth everything that Bucky had missed.

I>

The three stayed together that day, sharing soft touches and glances with each other with smiles.

Steve wasn't even surprised when he went back to the room and saw Nat and Bucky being close, all he did was move up against Natasha and join in with the two, knowing that there was enough room. 

[workingonit-currently]

Title Pending

Part 9

"Damien. I need an update!" She shouts, banging her balled fist sharply on the door, knowing he's either here or in his room. She secretly hopes it's here because she can't be bothered to journey up to his house at this time of night. It's dark and wet and the day's over.

Her heart beats faster as a shadow moves inside and the door slips open just enough for a brown eye to stare at her. It looks her up and down before setteling on meeting her eyes, waiting patiently. A dull shine on it, making it look tired and drained.

"I'm here for an update on the underbelly of the school. Can you give it to me? I need it now!" Boze hisses, glancing around her as people pass and whisper, she feels like they know, they all know. Glancing back at the eye she finds it shining with glee and knowing, making her feel worse as her heart sinks.

"They know?" Is all he asks and all he gets is a nod before the door opens fully, letting Boze in. Damien had been expecting this for a few hours now but had hoped with all his shattered heart that it wouldn't come to this.

"I understand. Although you did bring this upon yourself, I hold pity for you." Damien turns back to her after closing the door carefully, answering the question she had not asked yet. Damien may be angry and sick to his stomach by the thought of her but he can't just leave her face this alone, his stupid moral compass preventing that.

"Firstly I do want you to know...I hate you. Ever inch of my soul burns with the fire of revenge and the need to rip you apart." Damien explains, carefully watching her with a sharp glare as Boze sits down on a chair. He wants to be honest with her before anything else, adding on, "You may not know why but I do, and maybe one day you'll realise what you and your people did that makes me need revenge so much. Think on this Boze, think of why I tell you this name: Shayne."

Boze has to agree that she does not understand or recognise that name but nods just the same, mostly to lower the flames in Damien's eyes. She's tired and unsure of what she did or why he's acting this way towards her. She is greatful just the same.

"So what now? Do we still have a deal? You help me?" Boze asks him tiredly, yawning as she tries to consentrate. The darkness of the room not helping her stop herself from falling asleep.

"Of course, my word is golden but not now. You need rest and I need some time to cool off, I fear I'm quite mad." Damien explains, keeping his fancy and teasing attatude despite the hatered that consumes him.

Usually Boze would object or argue against this but as she is barely keeping her eyes open her mind isn't clear at the moment so she accepts Damien's offer and falls asleep on the chair quickly, practically having been asleep for the last half an hour.

The room is cool and unlit, shadows dance as people pass and only outlines warn Damien of his surroundings but he doesn't need light to see that his hated companion is now asleep, her slow breaths repeating again and again in a rythm.

Taking a deep breath and letting air fill his lungs Damien glances at Boze, letting out a quiet breath as he sees her peaceful sleeping form. Anger still burning him from the inside, like a silent but rapidly growing shadow that consumes everything it comes in contact with.

Slowly lowering himself to sit on the floor, leaning against the walls of the club house, Damien knows he can't sleep, too many thoughts rapidly twirling inside his head when all he wants is peace. He also knows he'll never find that, peace. It's a concept that is different for everyone but for Damien it's lying with a smile anywhere with people he trusts and knows.

"Yeah. And see where that concept of peace got me..." Damien mutters with an empty smile, running a hand through his hair and admiring the cold of the night, he's never liked the warm.

Then he remembers that whenever he couldn't sleep when he was a kid Shayne would stay up with him and they'd sip a hot drink together, in darkness and silence.

"Man. What would I do without you, fake Shayne?" He asks himself, knowing the almost constant thought of his dead best friend isn't good for him.

Although he smiles and laughs Damien feels painfully empty and sad, letting a few silent tears fall as he gets up and makes himself a warm drink of coffee. If he knows he's not going to fall asleep he might as well have whatever he wants.

"So...I should be over you right?" Damien asks himself, talking to the air like Shayne. He can't get his mind off the blond haired idiot he called his best friend for many years. Yep! You really should!

Walking back to his spot against the wall now with a drink in his hands Damien continues to talk to the air, "Right? I should be over you."

"I really should...so why aren't I?" Damien asks himself, sadly smiling as tears fall into his coffee. Ah! Salt! Just what I need in my coffee!

"I miss you. You know that...right?" Damien asks Shayne again, not looking up from his now salty coffee. Tears are still falling as he smiles all the same. "You must have known that I loved you right. I bet you did you idiot!" Damien muses and smiles, understanding now about Shayne's strange behaviour.

"And it only took me five years after your death to realise the same." He sighs, running a hand again threw his hair, sure that if he carries on like this he'll be bald by fifty.

.

"Couldn't sleep?" A deep voice asks as Damien turns around to see a shadow with their hands in their pockets leaning against a cabin.

After finishing his drink Damien decided to go for a walk to clear his head and gain some fresh air, thinking that everyone would be tucked away in bed.

"Let me walk with you?" The voice asks again after seeing Damien stand there looking at him. The cold nipping at both of their noses.

Not wanting to say a word Damien nods and the shadow approaches, still with their hands in their pockets. As they come closer Damien can finally see the shadow better, noticing how his eyes are slightly puffy and he avoids eye contact.

"You know you were right to hate her." He states as the walk, looking at the ground and catching Damien off guard.

As Damien jumps into action, shaking his head and trying to deny that he hates Boze, the person sniggers and interupts him, "It was sort of obvious. You hate everyone Dame."

Damien stops and smiles, happy that through everything their friendship is still some-what intact. Happy in each others company they walk, trying to avoid stones and dips in the grass. The wet grass nit bothering either.

"You know, I still miss him." Damien mutters up at his friend, knowing that he'll understand who he's refering to.

"And that's okay."

"No it's not. I should be over it...but why can't I move on..." Damien spits as he stops walking and feels deep hatered at his stupid sadness at a stupid person that died years ago.

"Damien, he was your best friend!" Wes argues, trying to stop him as he agressivly wipes the tears from his face.

"Yeah, and he's been dead for fucking five years! I need to get real and move on!" Damien argues, raising his voice as he doesn't care if he wakes anyone up, he just cares about getting over this sadness.

"Damien...You need to properly morn. You need help and a real friend." Wes tries to comfort him as he places a hand around his shoulder with a reassuring look.

"No! I just need- I need to...I need to-Fuck! I don't know and honestly I don't care! I need to forget about life and die! I want to fucking die and then...I don't know! Rot and stuff..." Damien snaps at his silver haired friend, quickly pulling out of the hold on his shoulders, glaring at the idiot who thinks of him as a friend.

"And you expect me to be okay with that!? No! You are my friend and I'm going to help you Dame." Wes huffs and approaches the crying brunette with open arms.

"There's no helping me Wesley, I'm a lost cause. I'm not worth helping." Damien mutters and crosses his arms, looking down and not objecting when Wes puts his arms around him in a comforting hug, letting tears fall.

[viobliterator]

coffee date - a dazatsu drabble

it’s my very first completed drabble for a ship! challenging yes, but really fun nonetheless. I hope y’all like it and feel just as fluffy reading it as I did writing it!

Word count: 2860

Ship: Atsushi Nakajima/Osamu Dazai (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Summary: they go to a coffee shop after a boring case what more is there to say

Today definitely seemed to be an easier day at the Armed Detective Agency. It seemed as though the citizens of Yokohama were indeed capable of going one day without committing crimes that would need the organization’s attention. Accidents and natural emergencies surely went on, but organized crime, terrorism, and other forms of violence in the city were reduced.  Even the ruthless Port Mafia appeared quiet on this particular day.  This, agency member Osamu Dazai didn’t seem to mind, as he had no problem slacking off at the office with his favourite pair of headphones, inducing Doppo Kunikida’s scrutiny. In light of this, Kunikida sent Dazai and his new subordinate, Atsushi Nakajima, to the one case that demanded the specialties of the new agency member.

A man’s (adorable) cat had climbed up one of Yokohama’s tallest trees, and was stuck. The feline had reached a height that even the city’s fire department couldn’t reach. However, since Atsushi had the power to turn into a white tiger at will, all he had to do was climb the tree in question, rescue the cat, and land on his feet like the graceful creature of the wild. Of course, solo operations are only issued under special circumstances, and Kunikida wouldn’t allow Dazai to laze about yet again. He had him supervise Atsushi in this particular job. After all, it would keep the slacker from causing any more mischief than he already had this past week alone.

                                             ------

Now that the entire debacle with the adventurous cat was over, the timid, white-haired cat in human clothing named Atsushi seemed to be free for the day. And since he had nothing more to do, the same went for Dazai. He previously had the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon searching for a beautiful woman to perish in a double-suicide with, but a sudden flash of what happened earlier with the cat sparked something in him that seemed quite unfamiliar…

When Dazai saw Atsushi holding the nonchalant cat that he’d rescued in his arms, Atsushi was smiling. He looked so proud of himself, and even held his chin up when other locals had come to see what happened and celebrate the boy’s accomplishment. He had even shared some sort of familial affection with the kitty. It wouldn’t have surprised Dazai if Atsushi also had the ability to purr with the way he saw him cuddling the cat. It was just so cute, he couldn’t help but smile. Something about that seemingly mundane event ignited a sort of candle’s flame in the man’s heart.

A heart?

Who knew that a man like him even had one?

Dazai couldn’t bear the idea of parting with Atsushi now. The thought physically hurt in his chest and he felt his stomach sink at the mere idea. He had to spend more time with him. Just a little more. The feelings that simmered up had suddenly put a stop to his previous plans of searching for a passionately suicidal dame. Was there some sort of animal magnetism that came with Atsushi’s ability that he didn’t know about? How else would someone be able to hook onto the former mafioso’s heart like a fish to a tasty lure? But no matter. He had this little kitten all to himself, and that was all that mattered now.

       The pair had been walking down a street that was hustling during this lunch hour, and a lot of people were also walking their dogs, much to Dazai’s dismay as he hated mutts at the best of times. A large red and white dog, that could have easily been his match in the height department,  had even tried to jump on him in excitement. It took every fibre of his being, not including his tightly wrapped bandages, to hurt the poor creature and its owner. However, the moment he eyed Atsushi giggling and petting the giant furball without a fear in the world, he managed to ease up. He was trying to be a good man now, and Dazai decided that he’d let by-gones be by-gones...

For the moment.

A few minutes had passed, and as the pair walked along, Atsushi had momentarily lost sight of his mentor as they walked, and turned his head to check if he had disappeared. He hadn’t. He had only stopped in his tracks a few feet behind him, looking lost in thought with his hands idly sitting in his coat pockets.

“Dazai? What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Actually...” The older man replied. “I’ve got a splitting headache. I didn’t get to have my coffee this morning...” he whined, pinching his nose with his bandaged hand. “The withdrawal is just unreal!”

“Oh, I see…” said Atsushi with a sigh. It’s just like Dazai to get everyone worked up over something so trite. But the boy found it endearing in a way.. After all, he would much rather laugh at an offhand remark than feel the agony of his own demons haunting him anytime.

Dazai directed his hand in the direction of a modest storefront ahead with a blue octagon on the front window. It was the logo of the shop. “Say, do you want to get coffee? There’s a nice little shop right here; we’ve got some time to kill until Kunikida calls us back. And besides,” Dazai said, starting to trace his gaze downwards towards Atsushi’s shoes, “You look totally beat. I can see your knees shaking.” He called, pointing his index finger in the direction of poor Atsushi’s tired, trembling knees. That cat rescue took a lot out of the poor lad, mainly his leg muscles. However, that wasn’t the only reason he felt his knees shaking now.

“Really? Y-you want us to have coffee together?” Atsushi stuttered timidly. An afternoon alone with the man he could call his saviour? Not talking about work, but just about anything and everything? The thought of this kickstarted Atsushi’s heart and it began to race, pounding in his ears like a drum.

“Is there a problem?” Dazai said, tilting his head to one side.

“Oh, no, o-of course not!” Atsushi answered, frantically waving his hands in front of him. “I’d love to have coffee with you Dazai!” The older man’s eyes lit up with the acceptance of this invitation.

“Okay, then it’s a date.” Dazai playfully grinned, slipping his hands into his pockets and walking  parallel with Atsushi once more. The weretiger felt his cheeks begin to flush.

“That’s not what I meant…” “I know. I’m just messing with you, Atsushi.” said the man, with what Atsushi could have sworn was a wink if he didn’t know better. He’d only ever seen Dazai flirt with women, and he was adamantly clear about wanting to die with a beautiful woman in a lovers’ suicide, to an exasperating degree at times. At the same time it annoyed the living daylights out of the boy, it was also just sad to hear him speak such things. It was heart-wrenching to listen to.

Atsushi followed the older man into the coffee shop like a kitten to his master.

“The barista here makes some of the best coffee in Yokohama. And on the weekends they have this carrot cake, and it’s to die for.” Dazai cheerfully explained, emphasizing the word “die” and giving his companion a nudge with his elbow. Atsushi just couldn’t hide the idiotic grin that rapidly grew into a hearty laugh.

A woman with mousy brown hair in a ponytail peeked her head out from under the front counter and saw the two strange men approach. She stood up and smiled, resting her hands on the counter and said a quiet, friendly hello.

“Hey, Kaoruko!” called Dazai with a wave. Atsushi watched the two adults exchange greetings and small-talk. It was fascinating to watch them speak with each other without a hint of malice in their voices or body language. Perhaps one day, Atsushi would be able to be as good as talking to people as his mentor, whom he found himself focused on more as the conversation went on. It was a situation that was totally unfamiliar to the boy who knew nothing but ridicule and abuse. But watching Dazai being friendly with someone was calming to the boy’s heart. So much so, that it almost sent him into a blissful trance.

The barista named Kaoruko had just about finished conversing with the older man when her eyes shifted to Atsushi. Her expression was unclear for the most part, but there was definitely some curiosity.

“Who’s your friend?” She asked with a smile.

“Oh, this is a good friend of mine from work,” Dazai answered with his arm slinging around his subordinate, his hand taking a firm but tender hold on the lad’s shoulder. “His name’s Atsushi Nakajima.” He announced proudly, as though he wanted the whole shop to hear. Atsushi felt himself blush at the words he heard at that moment, and at how close together they were. He felt so safe in his arm, but at the same time like he wanted to run and hide under a table. He couldn’t help but look downwards, but managed to crack a smile for courtesy’s sake.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Atsushi bowed, desperately hoping that the lady didn’t see him blush.

“Same here.” She replied with a gleam in her eye. She turned her attention back to Dazai, asking what she could get for the two.

“An iced dead eye for me, long, if you please.” Dazai declared, as though he were royalty. The barista slightly winced at the complicated drink, and turned towards the boy next to him.  Dazai turned his head towards Atsushi and made eye contact, as if silently asking what he wanted. Dazai’s face was dangerously close to his own, as his arm was still around him.

“Oh, um… just a latte for me, please.” Atsushi answered quietly, somehow managing to keep his cool.

The barista took the mens’ orders, and the two were seated, along with their beverages.

Atsushi and Dazai took their seats next to a window, the older brunette peeling off his classic tan trenchcoat and resting it on the back of his chair. The boy became a little excited, as this meant that they would likely stay for a while - at least until they were called back to the agency. Until then, the were-tiger had Dazai all to himself. The thought was exhilarating. It made him ecstatic, but at the same time it was absolutely terrifying. However, the joy was somehow just barely enough to keep him from cowering in fear.

He was afraid of the situation at hand, but not at the man he shared it with. Slowly but surely, the lad felt himself ease up. His shoulders began to relax, and he noticed his co-worker’s drink. It was the same colour as his dark brown eyes.

“What exactly is that anyways?” Atsushi asked, pointing at Dazai’s coffee.

“An iced dead-eye. It’s a cold brew with three shots of espresso in it. Kaoruko there won’t put any more than that in it though, ever since the time I tried to overdose on caffeine. Good times...” the man exclaimed, with a whimsical sigh.

Atsushi stared at his superior, mouth agape.

Why was he even surprised?

This was Dazai after all. Atsushi started to wonder if there was anything that he hadn’t tried to commit his perfect suicide, and any place he hadn’t tried to do it. He felt bad for the barista and was surprised she hadn’t barred him from coming back.

“So… what ended up happening?” Atsushi asked, knowing he would soon regret the question.

“They told me I was literally bouncing off the walls, like BOING, BOING, BOING!” he exclaimed, waving his free hand in erratic, zigzag motions to tell his story. He seemed to enjoy his telling of the event, seeing as his expression was ironically full of life in a story about one of his many near-death experiences. As morbid as it felt because of the subject matter, Atsushi felt his heart become light and fluttery at the sight of his mentor being such a passionate storyteller and clearly having fun while doing it. He could watch him do this all day if he could. Dazai continued his story, with embellished details continuously added on. When he finally finished, his dark eyes focused directly into Atsushi’s after taking another sip of his drink and he leaned towards him, resting his head on his hands.

“Enough about me, Atsushi.” He said, his voice quiet, but sharp. “I want to talk about you.”

The boy’s heart jumped. Was Dazai about to scold him for something he did wrong? He thought he did everything perfectly today... Atsushi knew this whole situation was too good to be true. The lad’s first instinct was to lower his gaze, but his eyes were locked with the other’s. There was no escaping his gaze.

“How is it that you’re so good with animals?” The man asked, his eyes sparkling with a genuine curiosity. “It's like you're a sort of animal whisperer!” He said, beaming with a child-like admiration.

Atsushi felt himself instantly relax after having been worked up over nothing.

“I don't know, really. I guess I've always been an animal lover. I never really gave it much thought. I guess maybe I see a bit of myself in them...” The boy explained, his voice trailing. “I figure if I treat them with kindness, like how you treated me when we first met, then maybe that would make up for how I was always treated at the orphanage before in some way.” Atsushi blushed. “I know, it's dumb. You probably think I'm crazy or something.” Said the lad, fidgeting with his mug. His co-worker’s eyes darkened and his expression suddenly became serious.

“It's not dumb. And no, I don't think you're crazy.” Dazai said, his voice low and soft. To Atsushi’s ears, his voice sounded as smooth as velvet. “What you're saying is blatantly false. I wish you could just see that and give yourself more credit.” He continued admonishingly, leaning a bit further towards his apprentice.

There was a long pause that felt like a small eternity. The pair never broke eye contact with each other in that time. It seemed like forever until Dazai leaned back into his chair, his lips curling up into a small smile. “I mean, come on. Who do you think you're talking to?”

Atsushi couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, Atsushi.”

“Sorry!”

Dazai looked at him with wide eyes before he let out a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” The older man replied with kind eyes. There was another long pause between them. Atsushi felt himself getting lost in the other man’s eyes and his warm smile. He felt all his troubles seem to melt away, like snow in a spring thaw. The boy wished this moment could last forever.

“Speaking of animals, Dazai, couldn't you get Kenji to rescue that cat with his superhuman strength ability?” He went on to ask. Until now he never gave thought into why Atsushi specifically was called to save the cat from earlier. His co-worker Kenji seemed just as capable at rescuing cats from towering trees.

Dazai took another sip of his coffee. As the drink ran empty, slurping sounds echoed through the shop.

“I thought about that. I even asked Kunikida that exact thing, but he said that Kenji had a big breakfast this morning. You know the condition of Kenji’s ability, right?”

“That's right…! It only works when he's hungry.” Atsushi answered.

“Exactamundo.” he replied with a wink. “And besides,” Dazai continued, “Even if he was starving, Kenji doesn't know his own strength sometimes. We don't need another lawsuit on our hands, so it was better for everyone not to take that risk.”

Ironic, coming from the most problematic member of the Armed Detective Agency. This was something Kunikida said himself on multiple occasions.

“I see… so this was something only I could do?”

“That's right.” Dazai said with a nod. “And for the record, Atsushi, you did beautifully.” he added.

Atsushi’s eyes brightened at the thought of himself succeeding at something that only he could do to help someone in need. He finally had a reason to live, and it felt wonderful. The best part was, the man he had to thank for that was sitting right in front of him with welcome arms. As for Dazai, the sight of Atsushi’s bright eyes filled his heart with joy. He was glad to be a positive influence on someone for a change, even though he knew that being a good man wasn’t exactly his field of expertise. But as for right now, life seemed to actually be okay. It was far from perfect, or ideal for either of them, but it was just okay. Perhaps, Dazai could hold off on his suicide plans for just a little while. At least for today.

On this quiet day, in a quaint little coffee shop in Yokohama, it was a good day to be alive.

[lesbianbeiovaz]

Parallel: From Another World 9/34

Short chapter but still a chapter. ;) Just a heads up but I go on holiday for a week tomorrow so there won't be any updates for a while.

Rita Stone lives in our world. The world where a big blue box bigger on the inside is simply impossible. However, this all changes after what is most definitely an impossible event. Then again nothing is impossible with the Doctor. Follow Rita through time and space, learning about herself while struggling to comprehend her new life travelling with the Doctor and his companions.

AO3 | CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11  | CH12

"Come on!" The Doctor ran back to Sir Robert, the Queen, Rose and Rita running through the hall where the woman had saved Rose's life. He turned a corner and sprinted up the stairs.

"The observatory's this way." Sir Robert told them taking the lead.

The five continued to run up the stairs following Sir Robert. "No mistletoe in these doors because your father wanted the wolf to get inside." The Doctor pointed out running into the room then stopping. "I just need time. Is there any way of barricading this?" he asked gesturing to the door.

"Just do your work and I'll defend it." Sir Robert made the quick decision.

"If we could bind them shut with rope or something," he suggested running back to the man knowing what he was thinking of doing, the five then heard the wolf howl getting close to them.

"I said I'd find you time," Robert repeated "Sir. Now get inside."

"Goodman." The Doctor patted his shoulder proudly, Rita stood by the TimeLord looking at Sir Robert sadly, he was risking his life for his Queen and country, did he blame himself for this? For not warning the Queen? Most likely, should he? No definitely not Rita couldn't stop thinking about it as the Doctor pulled her away, into the observatory.

"Your Majesty, the diamond." The Doctor gestured to the diamond inside of the Queens bag, Rose stood by frowning not understanding what was going on. Rita, on the other hand, stood not paying attention, her mind elsewhere silently grieving over the people lost tonight and the people to be lost in her future.

"For what purpose?" Queen Victoria frowned although she complained bringing out the diamond and handing it to the Doctor.

"The purpose it was designed for."

"Rose." the Doctor ran to the controls of the telescope which began to rise. He pointed at the controls, "lift it. Come on."

"Is this the right time for stargazing?" Rose asked sarcastically not understanding why the Doctor was doing this.

"Yes, it is." He said back, "Rita stand here" he pointed next to Rose not noticing the plain empty look on the brunettes face, nothing like the ecstatic jumpy look she girl normally had.

"You said this thing doesn't work." Rose pointed out to the Doctor snipping the wheel on the controls moving the telescope up further and further.

"It doesn't work as a telescope because that's not what it is." He explained "It's a light chamber. It magnifies the light rays like a weapon. We've just got to power it up."

"It won't work. There's no electricity. Moonlight. But the wolf needs moonlight. It's made by moonlight." Rose spoke not having very much faith in the Doctors plan. Yet she continued to do as he said.

"You're seventy percent water but you can still drown." he pointed out as if his plan was very simple and clear however to Rose and most likely Rita when she was 'watching' the episode they didn't understand. "Come on! Come on!" The Doctor shouted just as the wolf broke into the room. The Doctor then slid the diamond under the telescope lens which caused a bright light to bounce inside it getting larger and larger the further down. The wolf charged over to Queen Victoria as the light hit the floor then reflecting upwards coming into contact with the wolf which howled in pain and then slowly rose from the floor. An outline of the wolf was left mid-air in the bright light before it changed into a young man.

"Make it brighter. Let me go." the wolf/man whispered. The Doctor compelled to the wolfs wishes brightening the light and setting the creature free causing it to change back into the wolf and then howl before vanishing the light following its path.

"Your Majesty? Did it bite you?" the Doctor spoke concerned slowly walking over to the Queen.

"No, it's, it's a cut, that's all." she denied. the Doctor knowing different pressed on with the subject.

"If that thing bit you"

"It was a splinter of wood when the door came apart. It's nothing." she waved the subject off. The Doctor, however, continued to press on slowly moving over to the Queen.

"Let me see." he ordered more than asked.

"It is nothing." Queen Victoria snapped her arm away, a scold on her face. "I'm perfectly fine.

"Ok then" the Doctor nodded finally letting the subject go.

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Rita, the Doctor and Rose were all kneeled down before the Queen and those who remained in the house. Queen Victoria herself held a sword and began to speak what looked like a knighting.

"By the power invested in me by the Church and the State, I dub thee Sir Doctor of Tardis." she stood before the Doctor placing the sword on both of his shoulders then standing back. "By the power invested in me by the Church and the State, I dub thee Dame Rose of the Powell Estate." She repeated the gesture and then once again for Rita who looked at the Doctor and Rose smiling. "By the power invested in me by the Church and the State, I dub thee Dame Rita of another world." she then finished stepping back "You may stand."

"Many thanks, Ma'am." The Doctor nodded smiling

"Thanks. They're never going to believe this back home." Rose grinned.

"Your Majesty, you said last night about receiving no message from the great beyond. I think your husband cut that diamond to save your life. He's protecting you even now, Ma'am, from beyond the grave."

"Indeed. Then you may think on this also." She paused and then added, "That I am not amused."

"Yes!" Rose beamed throwing a fit into the air.

"Not remotely amused." the Queen continued "And henceforth I banish you Sir Doctor and Dame Rose." The TimeLord and Rose frowned in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" the Doctor spoke up.

"I rewarded you, Sir Doctor, and now you are exiled from this empire, never to return." she began to explain. "I don't know what you are, the two of you, or where you're from, but I know that you consort with stars and magic and think it fun Dame Rita here warned you many times." the Queen smiled a little at Rita who bowed her head back. "But you did not listen to these warning, your world is steeped in terror and blasphemy and death, and I will not allow it. You will leave this shores and you will reflect, I hope, on how you came to stray so far from all that is good, and how much longer you will survive this terrible life, maybe dame Rita can bring you back to the good she is trying and I very much respect that." Rita just continued to smile which then sadly dropped remembering the course of last night. "Last night her face showed sadness, grief and lost, yours did not Sir Doctor. Now leave my world, and never return." She finally finished her speech and then adding after a moment of silence. "God help you Dame Rita"

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"I'm sorry-" the Doctor began to speak. The three sat on the back of a cart which was carrying them back to the TARDIS.

"Don't" Rita stopped him holding up her hand. "I'm fine really" she smiled sadly. "I couldn't stop it and I know that, it would have unknown horrible repercussions not just on this world but possibly mine and other worlds as well," Rita spoke her voice soft yet harsh holding onto the tears which she could feel slowly forming in her eyes. Rita wasn't one to cry very much but after seeing Isobel's face when she was getting knighted compared to the Doctor and Rose she felt guilty and upset.

"I know how you feel Rita I can help-"

"That's the thing Doctor" she turned to him, a tear slowly making its way down her face escaping her glassy watery eyes. "You have no idea who I am or how I am even here" she waved her hands around gesturing to everywhere. "I have no idea what I am doing here and honestly it scares me. I know the future and there are things I can't stop or change and it hurts knowing the future" she sighed "I'll learn, though" gulping back the tears she looked up at him then moved her gaze over to Rose sitting beside her the blonde took her hand and smiled sadly. "Because if I want to find out why I am here then I might as well try to learn how to help." she smiled a little, not a sad smile but a genuine smile.

"I shouldn't have been careless and actually listened to you" the Doctor sighed. "At least I now know what to do." he grinned lighting the mood a little.

"Even you make mistakes every now and then." Rita joked chuckling a little.

"They say 'it's human to make mistakes', I guess you could also say that 'it's Time Lord to make mistakes' as well" Rose and Rita shook their heads at the silly comment.

The three traveled to the TARDIS chatting and watching the senary from the back of the cart the mood was brighter as the Doctor and his companions joked. He didn't forget about her or the Queens words for a single moment. 'Her face showed sadness, grief and lost, yours did not Sir Doctor' He didn't even notice it. Too busy showing off as always but why? How could he not notice sure he didn't know the brunette for long but it troubled him that it didn't even cross his mind. not to mention her comment. 'You have no idea who I am' He sighed at the thought knowing it was very well true, Rita had only been traveling with the Doctor and Rose for just over a two weeks and honestly he didn't know very much about her, she kept quiet about most of her life apart from hobbies and where she lived he knew that her parents were not alive but didn't know what or how they were no longer living. I will find out Rita Stone. He thought to himself jumping of the cart with Rita and Rose when it came to a stop.

"Cheers, Dougal!" the Doctor waved at the man walking towards the small blue figure which was the TARDIS in the distance.

"Walk on."

"No, but the funny thing is, Queen Victoria did actually suffer a mutation of the blood." the Doctor explained to the girls. "It's historical record. She was haemophiliac. They used to call it the Royal Disease. But it's always been a mystery because she didn't inherit it. Her mum didn't have it, her dad didn't have it. It came from nowhere."

"What, and you're saying that's a wolf bite?" Rose questioned. Rita nodded in response the Doctor explained it.

"Well, maybe haemophilia is just a Victorian euphemism."

"For werewolf?" Rose raised a brow.

"Could be."

"Queen Victoria's a werewolf?" Rose laughed at the thought.

"Don't forget the rest of them" Rita snorted

"Could be. And her children had the Royal Disease. Maybe she gave them a quick nip." the Doctor joked while they continued to walk towards the TARDIS which was now quite close.

"So, the Royal Family are werewolves?" Rose double checked.

"Well, maybe not yet. I mean, a single wolf cell could take a hundred years to mature. Might be ready by, oh, early 21st century?"

"You're just saying that to be clever." Rita rolled her eyes. "Yes, they are werewolves Rose" Rita confirmed.

"Nah, that's just ridiculous!" she waved it off then thought for a moment. "Mind you, Princess Anne."

"I'll say no more." the Doctor grinned.

"And if you think about it, they're very private." she widened her eyes "They plan everything in advance. They could schedule themselves around the moon." she started to laugh. "We'd never know."

"They also enjoy hunting" Rita spoke up laughing along with the blonde the Doctor opened the TARDIS door he then walked in and held it open for the girls.

"They love blood sports. Oh my God, they're werewolves!" Rose concluded.

"God that's making me shiver at the thought of a wolf running the country. Very clever though" Rita nodded holding her arms and shivering. "Imagine if someone was to find out! No country would trust us again" Rita chuckled leaning against the console.

"Best not tell anyone then" the Doctor winked and then started to play with the console. The TARDIS then dematerialised the three burst out laughing at their conclusion on the Queen and the Royal family being werewolves.