#and also mourning a certain someone and avenge his death

[rocketrouquine]

THEY 👏 ARE 👏 NOT 👏 TALKING 👏 ABOUT 👏 THE 👏 INN👏

[hollandsfavbabe]

Where Do We Go Now

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which the death of y/n's father leaves her determined to bring him back and her boyfriend peter determined to save her

warnings: endgame aftermath, death, parental loss, isolation, suicide attempt (but magical?), it gets better - I promise

word count: 7.1k

masterlist

a/n: Hey guys. This is going to be a bit longer than my usual notes, but I feel like I should explain why I've been gone for so long and why this story is a lot sadder than my usual ones. My community has been riddled with tragedy recently as we've lost a lot of people to suicide this past year, some of which have been as young as middle school age. One of my friends died by suicide a couple months ago. I can't express to you guys how hard it's been trying to deal with the pain and the guilt his death has caused me and my loved ones. So many days have passed where I wish I could've been a better friend for him while he was here. It hurts more knowing that other people are hurting too. Writing this was the best way for me to cope for many reasons. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling and honor my friend in some way even if it's through a silly little fanfiction. I know I'm late, but I also wanted to honor one of my favorite characters, Tony Stark as he canonically died this past October. That being said, if you are struggling please, I implore you, talk to someone. There are so many people on this planet who would be so torn without you. My dms are always a safe space if you need anything at all <3

Also I'd like to thank Gracie Abrams for her music that I had on repeat the entire time I was writing this. I hope you like it!

“I am Iron Man.”

The words replayed in your head, over and over like a broken record with no one to turn it to a new tune. That’s exactly how you felt. So alone in your grief that even if miraculously every wish you'd ever made in the whole of your existence had been granted, it still wouldn’t be enough to make you happy again. To make you feel anything besides the constant regret and incessant grief that anchored you down as you wasted away in your bed.

It had been exactly a week since the passing of the great Tony Stark. Everyone else in the compound had mourned their coworker, riddled by a somewhat lesser version of your sadness for only a few days after his death. It’s not as if their grief had been washed away as if it never stained their cheeks with tears or weighed down their hearts with sorrow, but it eased much quicker than yours and before long they could continue their duties. Everything was so much harder for you because Tony hadn’t just been a coworker. He was your father.

You relieved every memory you had of him like bittersweet torture. You remembered when he held you as a little girl, wiping up a bloodied knee. When he discovered you had powers and helped you control them. Later on when he banned you from joining in on the Avenger’s Civil War and afterwards when he thanked you for sneaking in to help anyway. You could almost feel his comforting embrace as if it was only yesterday that he was assuring you before a failed battle against the mad Titan Thanos, the same one that left you dusted and missing your father’s last five years on Earth. And finally, of course, you remember his last moments all too well. It played out before you like the tragic ending of a stage play. 

“Let me do it,” you shouted over the sound of war cries and carnage that surrounded you on the packed battlefield. “I can take it!”

You were almost certain that your power, your immeasurable magic, could handle the debilitating strength of the Infinity Stones making you the most reasonable choice for snapping Thanos and his army out of existence, but your father refused to risk losing his eldest.

“No,” he breathed, the metal plate shielding his chest rising and falling from the heat of the action. There was only one way to succeed, only one way to put a stop to the destruction of the universe. It had to be him. “I won’t risk losing you, not while you’re still so young. You have so much life ahead of you.”

“Not without you!” you cried, a tear streaming from your eye.

There wasn’t much time for your conversation as the world was moments away from being wiped of its human history, but despite the odds your father pulled you into a tight hug, as if he knew it would be the last. You both did.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I’m so proud of what you’ve become already.” he smiled when you finally pulled apart.

“I need you dad,” you sobbed, still reluctant to let him leave you. With the threat of his death, suddenly Thanos’ defeat didn’t matter anymore. Not nearly as much as having your father by your side. “I’m not ready.”

Your dad looked down on you with the saddest of smiles, but if any part of him was upset about his decision, he made no other hint toward it. He just held you close for as long as possible and comforted you in the way that you could always count on him for. In the way, it hit you, that you could never count on him for again. But yet, in the face of death, he cradled you close and spoke in his signature fatherly tone: assertive yet on the edge of softness.

“No one’s ever ready -,” he answered truthfully. “- but I know you can handle it. You always do.”

You looked up at him as he finally pulled away and headed towards the purple giant, but not before turning to you for one final declaration.

“I love you, junior, to the edge and back again.”

And then he was gone. You never got the chance to say it back.

Yours was the last name he uttered before his heart stopped beating and the light on his suit went out. By then Pepper had already said her goodbyes and you both were huddled close to his body, weeping as the other Avengers knelt around you in honor of your father. Peter was hunched behind you, one hand on your shoulder while the other worked to wipe away his own tears. Oh Peter, you had your father to thank for him.

It was Tony who was credited with setting you up with your long term boyfriend, Peter Parker, even if it was a complete accident. You two had gotten acquainted on a fateful plane ride to Germany and eventually ended up together after many failed attempts at confessing your feelings. There was something about him that had you smitten with him from your first encounter, your liking only strengthened when you learned that your father approved. He’d been with you through thick and thin and even now, Peter was the only person who could even remotely share your pain besides Pepper. Tony was like his father too.

He’d taken care of you ever since the incident. Brought you food and water, helped you dress in your black attire for the funeral, laid with you in your bed each night to calm you whenever you awoke in a nightmarish terror. He showed his love for you prevailing over his grief in the most selfless of ways and yet all you had managed to do since you father’s funeral was stand to use the restroom every once in a while. It piled on more weight that your poor soul could already take. You were nothing, but a miserable burden now.

The door to your room opened with squealing hinges as Peter stepped in, returning from school where he had spent the morning reuniting with your shared friends and finding out when the official return date was. You were supposed to join him, but instead you hadn’t moved an inch since he left. It wasn’t as if you wanted to waste the entire day in your lonely sheets again. You yearned for everything to go back to how it was; when Peter was happy and you could share it with him. When your father used to smile upon the two teens he didn’t mean to bring together. When your father was alive.

“Hey,” he said, softly as if not to startle you from your endless torturous pondering. He set something down on your dresser, a small stack of papers he must have gathered from the school, and removed his fall coat before sauntering over to you. The bed creaked and shifted under his weight as he took a seat next to you. “Good news, we don’t have to go back until the next semester so we get a break until January. Ned was asking about you. He wants to know how you’re doing.”

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed from all of your crying and your lips cracked and dry.

“What did you tell him?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from under use. There was little to talk about and no one else to talk to whenever Peter wasn’t around. Pepper had visited you once, but with Morgan to look after, she couldn’t spare much time for her late husband’s grieving daughter. You’d seen Happy a couple times as well, but he needed his own time to recover and reflect on his past time with his best friend.

Peter was gentle as he tucked some of the hair strands snot cemented to your jaw behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his palm. He was cold from the autumn chill outside, but his hand ignited the same soothing heat that his touch always brought forth.

“I said you were recovering,” he answered truthfully. “And that it’s different for everyone. And no matter how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”

The ghost of a smile graced your lips and had it not felt like it stopped beating after losing your father, your heart may have fluttered in its cavity in your chest.

“Thanks Peter,” you curled closer to him in the most sincere of ways. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can get up to see Ned again. Give him my best.”

“Take your time. I’m sure he understands.” Peter assured before pulling off his flannel and laying down beside you to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to tuck your face in his chest. As unhappy as you were, all the swirling emotions of suffering were always suppressed by the sound of Peter’s heart and the feel of his body around yours. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before Peter broke the silence as it neared time for your midday meal.

“I think you should come with me today,” Peter suggested, rising to run his daily lunch retrieval before running a loving hand through your hair. You couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. You hadn’t been able to wash in over a week. “It’s not good for you to stay here all day long. You need to start moving.”

His voice was full of worry, though he wasn’t overbearing. He wanted the best for you, it’s all he ever wanted really.

“I don’t know Peter, I don’t think I can.” you sighed as tears started to fill your eyes again. How could anyone stand to be around you when you were being so pathetic. You wished there was a way to erase your pain, anything to bring you to your normal self again.

“It's okay baby,” Peter hugged you into a tight embrace, kissing your tears as they fell in slow salty streams. “I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I read somewhere that the best thing to do is keep a consistent routine. Maybe you should start today. Come get lunch with me.”

You wanted to agree, but there was no part of you that could move from the weight of your grief. It pressed you down, gravity multiplied by the mass of your sadness as it consumed you. It felt as if only a miracle could save you now.

“I’m so sorry.” you stated with remorse, but Peter made no move to share his disappointment if he had any at all. Instead he leaned down from his seated position and placed his lips on your forehead, a gesture as if to say that all was alright.

“Please don’t cry, y/n. It’s okay.” he assured you before standing to leave and get you something that you figured you probably wouldn’t even eat very much of.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning the handle of your door to leave before looking back at you sprawled on your bed. Suddenly, as if he had recalled the cure to the rainiest of days, he expression shifted to one of great excitement as he stopped back into your room.

“I almost forgot,” he began. “Doctor Strange was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he’s offering some meditation sessions for you if you’re interested. He said they’d be good for your powers and that they might help you feel better if you want to think about it. He’s free at 8 tomorrow.”

You nearly perked up at the sound of the man’s name, picking up your head to cast a last longing glance at Peter as he waited for a parting word.

“Thanks,” you managed. “I’ll let you know.”

And off Peter went to get you both something to eat.

You weren’t sure if he knew how dangerous it was for you to be left with your thoughts, how the mention of the magic doctor sprouted a myriad of mystical ideas all aimed at the same goal that would erase your eternal lonesome aching. How to bring your father back. By the time Peter returned with his hands full of two homemade sandwiches and more sweets than the two of you could ever finish in one sitting, your mind had been made up and you were ready to set the plan in motion.

The following evening was your first time out of the confines of your rooms for days. Peter had helped you greatly with all the tasks you did not have the mental power to do all on your own. He had brushed your hair and made your bed and before you left in one of the less expensive cars held on Avenger’s campus, he sent you off adorned with one of his favorite sweatshirts, a peck on the forehead and enough I love you’s to last more than a lifetime.

You pulled the sleeve of Peter’s sweatshirt over your palm as you drove off, using the cloth to wipe away fresh tears that had fallen after you left your boyfriend’s loving gaze. You’d always been an overthinker, but your bad habits crept up on you worse in your unbreakable stage of sadness. Especially in your father’s favorite car.

You didn’t understand why he hadn’t left you already. Maybe he would. Peter had offered to join you at Strange’s, but after you insisted you had to go alone, he made plans to go help his Aunt May figure out their apartment situation as the pair had been inadvertently kicked out after being gone for so many years. You’d almost forgotten he used to split his nights between the compound and his own bedroom. Recently he’d only stay with you.

He promised to be back before dinner so that the two of you could keep up your progress, but an unsolicited voice within you convinced you that he wouldn’t want to return. You weren’t good enough for him anymore, not like you used to be. Your plan was better for the both of you and as you pulled up to the familiar building on Bleecker Street, all the pieces started to fall into place.

You stepped up to the door, raising your fist to knock only for the door to crack open by itself as if to invite you in. You waited for the familiar sternness of Doctor Strange’s voice to greet you once you were past the stone floored foyer, but only wisps of the autumn breeze caught your ear. 

“Strange?” you called, your voice still not stable enough to be louder than a whispery dialogue. You were met with no response. It was just like you had planned. The wizard wasn’t home.

You felt a strong tug towards the room of your desires, the forbidden library. It was as if fate was leading you or some other force from above, another sign that you were meant to do it.

Your steps were more sure than they had been in days as you made your way to the self, passing any magical fire walls with the sheer unfiltered strength of your powers. Strange once told you that they were guided by your emotion, the quintessential essence of every magic holder even to people like you and Wanda Maximoff who were outside of his world protecting wizard cult. It was easier than it should have been, like slicing paper with a katana, you broke each enchantment until all that was left was the cool leather cover of the book you were looking for. The book with every answer you needed inside its ancient yellowing pages, but you only needed the spell that would revive your father. Locating it near the middle of the book, your tore out the page and turned back to your car, leaving the Sanctum with the same unhurried pace you had entered it with. There was no stopping you now.

Peter was only an half an hour late for your agreed meet up time when he arrived at the campus. He expected you’d be in your room as per usual and as he made his way to your door, the excitement of getting to hold you and talk about your first day out of the campus since the funeral built up in his chest. He wasn’t sure if any accomplishment in the world could make him as proud as he was of you. With two brown paper bags of groceries in his hand, he couldn’t wait to shower you in the affection that you deserved with all of your favorite snacks, enough to share of course.

“Y/n,” he smiled, using his webbing to open your door handle only to find, much to his disappointment, that you were nowhere to be found.

He checked all over campus, leaving the bags by your bed. No one had seen you since you’d left and the spot where the car you’d taken was still empty, the normally pristine concrete covered in fallen crisp maroon leaves. It didn’t make any sense. Where could you possibly have gone?

“Y/n!” he called, circling the perimeter of the campus looking for you. There was still no sign of your reappearance. “Y/n- oh. Hi Ms. Maximoff.” Peter forced a strained smile as he nearly bumped into the woman.

“Peter, we’ve been over this,” Wanda answered, her voice calm. “You can call me Wanda.”

Like you, the witch hadn’t been doing the best in recent days as she had lost something just as valuable as a father: her partner. While she occasionally had days where the ground would’ve been lucky to feel the grace of her step, her superhero duties had kept her from spending each day hidden from society. She had a different way of coping, but like others, she seemed to start getting back into routine again.

“Right, sorry Wanda.” Peter apologized.

“What are you doing out here?” inquired the witch in her native Sokovian accent, always intuitive. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s y/n. I can’t find her anywhere and we agreed to meet back here nearly - an hour ago!” Peter pulled up his coat sleeve to check the time on his watch, the face of which bore a picture of him and your father from only a few months before the snap. It had been a birthday gift, one of his favorites in fact, though it couldn't top what you had given him the same year: a lego set and your first kiss.

“I didn’t know that she got out of bed. That’s a big step!” 

“Yes it is and we were going to celebrate tonight, but she hasn’t come back yet which is really not like her.” worried Peter.

“Where did she go?”

“Strange’s. He was going to give her a meditation lesson for her powers.”

Confused, Wanda's eyebrow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t she know how to use them already?”

“Yes, but he thought it would help her manage her grief. Working out is a pretty common method, but she hates going to the gym so he figured some meditation would be better for her and -“

“Wait, hold on. Did she go to him this morning?”

“Yes and she was supposed to be back around noon, but it’s nearly six and she’s still gone.” Peter explained.

“Peter!” Wanda chided. She couldn't believe he could make such a grave mistake.

“What?”

“Strange hasn’t been at the Sanctum all day!”

“What?! Where is he?”

“Do I look like a wizard to you?" the witch gestured to her casual leggings and cardigan pairing that drastically differed from Strange's usual eccentric costumes. "How should I know?”

As if summoned by the topic of conversation, a figure appeared in the distant grass, hovering over the blades until he was close enough to be able to walk. His cape that flowed in the breeze like a blood red stream with a mind of its own was a dead give away. Doctor Strange had indeed arrived in the flesh.

“Parker,” he greeted, though he did not smile. “Is Ms. Stark ready for our lesson?”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized his mistake.

“Oh no.” he muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He was met with confusion from the wizard.

“No?” Strange repeated. “We agreed upon 8 didn't we? I know I'm a little early, but I assumed she wouldn't be busy. Didn’t you let her know I was coming?”

“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “I told her to be ready and then I sent her off to your place at 8… am.”

“What?!” Strange exclaimed as he summoned a portal to appear leading directly to his found home on Bleecker Street. He stepped through the fiery ring, a silent invitation for the others to follow as he hurried passed your car, up the steps, and into the door which did not part of him the same way it had earlier. Inside he was met with the most frightful of discovers accompanied by the looming feeling of doom as the situation became clear.

The Sanctum, unguarded with his absence, lay littered with books that had fallen from their homes on his shelf’s yet one stood out from all the others. It laid on the floor open with its pages to the ground while every other book was shut. Levitating it with the simple flick of his wrist, a horrifying sight awaited Strange as he turned it over. One of the pages in the sacred book was missing.

“Do you know how serious this is?!” Strange exclaimed and although Peter at first took it as a barbed criticism aimed directly at him, he was able to distinguish Strange’s tone from when he was reprimanding. This was a separate kind of worry, the sort of tone that he had used heavily on the fated spaceship you three had been stuck in until you landed on Titan, Thanos’ home world, nearly five years ago. Treachery was afoot and if your powers were involved, the whole fabric of your current reality could change.

“Which one did she take?” Wanda pointed to the book, clearly noticing the giant tear in its center.

Strange’s voice answered, heavy with concern. “The revival spell.”

“You don’t think she knows, do you? She can’t possibly know how to conjure it.” asked Wanda, the same concern for their future written all over her face.

“That’s exactly what I think.” Strange confirmed.

“What?” Peter asked. “What are you guys talking about?”

“There are many types of magic, Parker, and the Sanctum, the building where you sent your girlfriend, is full of all of them, good and bad alike. Every spell comes with a price, the bigger the spell, the bigger the price and the spell she took comes with one of the biggest prices there is to pay.”

“Think about it, Peter,” Wanda paled. “What does y/n want most in the world right now?”

It hit Peter harder than fresh fallen hail. You were going to try to bring your father back.

“We have to find her. Now.”

Strange tried to use his sling ring to appear wherever you were, but in your grief, the extent of your powers had grown massively. Intentionally or not, you managed to prevent even the most powerful of wizards from using his Sling Ring to access your location.

“She's blocked me out.” Strange frowned. “We’re going to have to track her on foot.”

“She can’t be far,” Peter agreed. “She always takes the shortest path whenever she wants something.” It was one of the many things he loved about you: your ability to turn any taxing task into something much simpler. You were one of the cleverest people he knew. He just hoped it didn’t work in your favor this time.

It was Wanda who had the idea of tracking your magic. She led them to the nearest withering woodland area, where trees with bare branches and dying leaves sprawled endlessly. It was the perfect place to perform dark magic, away from the unyielding eyes of society. The trio didn’t hesitate to run in.

The further they got, the closer you felt especially to Peter despite the fact that he was the only one without his own source of magic. If he lost you tonight, he feared he’d never feel any sort of magic ever again.

They were only half an acre in when Wanda and Strange called out in anguish, the witch falling to her knees while Strange stayed standing, pounding the air with his fist as his trying to break through an invisible barrier though it was to no avail. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn’t fading anytime soon.

“Keep going, Parker!” he shouted, urging Peter forward. “You’re the only one who can stop her. The spell will only allow that which she loves.”

“How do I do it?” Peter shouted. “How do I stop the spell?”

“The page,” Wanda replied, quicker than Strange could as his reply was easy for her to access. “You have to tear it apart.”

Without wasting a second more, Peter sprung back towards where he could feel you, running without fatigue as his superhuman endurance supplied him with plenty of energy.

It was only a minute later that he caught his first sign of you. There was a break in the tree line out of which a bright amber glow poured like an incandescent warning. It was a dramatic contrast from the normal comforting emerald greens of your magic, but it was you nonetheless and Peter didn’t stop until he was so close he had to shade his eyes from the light.

If it weren’t for the dark nature of what you were doing, Peter would’ve considered it one of the most beautiful events he’d ever seen take place. He wasn’t sure if the circle of trees that surrounded you had been a natural formation or one you made for the sake of the spell, but he was sure the way they seemed to bend to your will, despite the hard wood of their birch trunks, had to be because of your power. In the center of it all was you and the page you had stolen atop a pile of purple and golden leaves. You stood before it, eyes closed as you whispered some sort of incantation. Your powers spread above you in orange flickering flames as you outstretched your arms and summoned what looked like the beginnings of a portal, though it was hard to peer through like a bride covered in a veil of night black.

Peter shouted your name, screaming for you to stop, but you didn’t so much as flinch as the portal grew. You couldn’t hear him over the force of your will. He could start to feel what Wanda and Strange were trapped behind. There was some sort of invisible wall that threatened to push him back from you, but he couldn’t be defeated. He had to stop you. Step by step, he got closer and closer to you, watching in horror as your body was lifted from the ground and floated in midair. A new energy started weeping through the fabric that covered your chest, soft and white like a sheer glittering fabric. It drifted towards the portal and as Peter neared you he could make out the outline of a face forming from it in the black center of it. It started to take shape, growing a neck and a body and becoming more concrete than a fragmented part of your energy. He became more unmistakable as the color grew back into his face. Tony Stark, in the flesh. Peter hurried towards the page.

You opened your eyes to gaze into the face of your father, tears flowing down your face partially from the exhaustion of bringing him back and from being able to see him again.

You tried to say something, tell him how much you had missed him, but you were left rendered without a voice. Your words came out as mouthed nonsense, though it seemed he had regained his voice.

“Y/n,” he uttered, though it seemed more like a warning than a greeting after being torn from you for so long.

You mouthed something you knew he’d understand. I love you too, dad.

Some other force called your name, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on anything else, but the father you had lost regaining life right in front of you. With every part that he gained, you felt a part of your fade. It wasn’t painful, more numbing than anything like the final dose to end all your sadness. You couldn’t help but relish in it. You were bringing back one of the greatest men to ever live.

You were so distracted, you missed the web that landed on the page below you and pulled it away.

“Y/n,” your dad said again, nearly having enough of one of his legs to step out of the portal when suddenly, the inky blackness swallowed him whole again and dissolved in the forest light, taking back the only thing you ever wanted.

“NO!” you cried as your voice returned to you and you fell back down to the dry grass and dead leaves, crumpled on the forest floor as all of the magic you had summoned faded away save for the glittering cloud that returned to your chest with such force it made you cough. You had failed.

“Y/n!” someone called and you shuddered away from their hand on your shoulder as loud sobs erupted from you. 

“Leave me!” you begged. “Just leave!” Peter refused to leave your side, tossing behind him the page he had shredded into tiny scraps of paper as he knelt beside you, careful not to touch you again. “Why did you have to do that? Why did you take him from me?”

“You were going to die! I couldn’t let you di-“

“I WANTED TO DIE!”

Peter froze as you whimpered, the truth spreading above the both of you in the cold air like storm clouds as you cried to him.

“I want him back. Everyone wants him back. No one cares about his depressed daughter and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Peter.” you paused to take a deep breath. “It- it hurts so much.” you could barely get the words out as you were choked by your sobs. “It hurts knowing I could’ve saved him. It hurts knowing it should’ve been me that snapped those stupid stones. And I don’t want to live with that anymore. I had to try to bring him back for the world. It needs him more than it needs me.”

You brought a hand to your face, wiping away some of your tears, though it was no use as more came pouring out.

“I need you.” uttered Peter, looking into your glossy eyes. The sight of your tears and the echo of your screams couldn’t deter him from you. You can’t be repelled from the ones that you love.

“But you miss him, don’t you,” you argued as hot tears coated your face. “You want him back too.”

Peter nodded in agreement.

“I think about him everyday. Our moments together. Like this one time he saved me from drowning in a lake. Or-“ Peter grinned. “- remember when he caught us making out that one time before we told him we were together. He was so mad.” Peter smiled to himself, looking fondly on the memory until he began again.

“I miss him so much and it makes me so sad that I'll never see him again. But I wouldn’t trade you for him. I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You’re worth more to me than anyone else in the universe.”

Your sobs slowed yet the tears did not cease as they still cascaded down your face.

“It hurts me so much.” you restated.

Peter opened his arms. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and before you knew it, you were engulfed by a warmth unlike any other as Peter hugged you tight enough to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him again.

“I know you do,” he related. "And I wish I could take it away. I wish I could just bag all your pain and throw it all away. But it doesn't work like that. It's going to hurt. It's going to be painful, so much so that you won't move from bed for days and days. You haven't." 

"But I feel like everyone else has already moved on. Why can't I?" you shivered.

"No one else was as close to him as you. Everyone else lost a friend. You lost a father. There's a big difference. You can't expect yourself to move on from it. That's not healthy. It's just like I said, I'm here for you no matter how long it takes. You have to take your time with it, don’t rush the process." Peter pressed the lightest of kisses to one of your dampened cheeks.

"I just don't know what to do."

"Breathe."

As silly as it sounded in its simplicity you did as he instructed and inhaled deeply, allowing the air to coat your lungs that hadn’t been exposed to so much fresh air in a week. As you exhaled, you let out another sob in his arms, but somehow it felt better than all the others. You were not rid of your pain by any means and sadness still corroded your core, but for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel so hopeless. Peter placed another gentle kiss on your cheek, encouraging you as you took several more slow breaths and quiet cries until you found the strength to speak again.

“Was it like this for you when your parents died?” you wondered aloud as you pulled away from Peter to look into his chocolate brown eyes that you almost forgot you loved so much, yet not so far that he couldn't keep his arms around your frame that was still bearing his sweatshirt. You hadn’t spoken much about them before and while you weren’t sure where the question had arisen from, it felt like the right thing to ask.

“I was so young when they passed, sometimes I feel like they were never mine to begin with,” he admitted. “I took a couple days off school when it happened, but I don’t remember crying all that much. It’s tragic and sometimes it makes me sad that they’re gone, but I’m glad that it does. It’s a reminder that they were there for me in the first place, that I knew them enough to miss them. The grief is proof that I loved them while they were here.”

You were both silent for a moment as you thought about his words in relation to your situation. All your pain was put into perspective. Everything you had been through since he died, all the days you wasted away in bed, it was all the proof that you had loved him so much when he was alive and that you were still carrying the love you had left for him. You missed your father so much you were willing to die to get him back and for a moment, you almost did.

You parted from Peter’s arms to stand though you still grasped onto his hands as you weren’t strong enough to be upright on your own. You closed your eyes again and listened to the sound of the forest, the swaying of the leaves that still clung to their branches, the faint twittering of birds, and the calm of the sky that was oddly cloudless for autumn. The sound of your name falling from your father’s reformed lips was still faint in the air and for a moment you felt as though you were with him again.

You remembered when he taught you how to ride a bike one evening when you were only four. You remembered the day he pulled you from public school and started teaching you at home. You remembered the look of shock on his face when you showed him your powers for the first time and even more, you remember his pride when you completed your first mission with the Avengers (that he'd approved ahead of time to avoid any more Germany -like surprises). He wasn’t there, but at the same time he was everywhere. And you missed him, but at the same time the absence he left in your life felt less empty.

The tears came out in slow smooth streams, flowing down in slow trickles as you finally sat back down. You didn’t say anything and neither did Peter, but you knew he could feel what you felt. He could feel your father too and minutes slipped by as you sat and cried together.

There was a sudden rustling in the distance and soon enough, Doctor Strange and Wanda had arrived at the scene, no longer held back by invisible barriers. They rushed to you bringing flooding guilt through your system as you began to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Strange opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing to say. You could tell by his expression that he was disappointed, but there was more to it. He had empathy.

It was Wanda that leaned down to place a friendly hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home.”

The months following were some of the hardest of your life. Every battle you faced was uphill, but you no longer felt like you were fighting alone. You started going out again, first to visit Pepper and your half sister Morgan who lived in their cabin home. Peter joined you of course, but he played with Morgan for the most part while you and Pepper talked. You cried with her, but you laughed a lot too. She shared with you so many of her own memories, times when your father didn't know what to get you for your birthday, when he had managed to mess up cooking dinner in the strangest of ways, and when he’d accidentally burned your favorite stuffed animal in the drying machine all of which Pepper had to remedy. Though she hadn’t raised you, she was the mother you never had and through her stories you learned that your father had been just as good raising Morgan with her as he had been with you.

You hung out with Ned and MJ again shortly after that. While Peter had suggested a brief check-in at a cafe so you could go home quickly to rest, you surprised him with a much more time consuming idea: laser tag. The four of you had the best time targeting each other, you winning more rounds than any of the others. You ended the day with smoothies, talking as you drank and making plans for the next time you would all see each other. MJ made you promise you would text her if you ever needed anything and Ned gave you a whole plate of his Lola’s ensaymadas, your favorite dish of hers.

Finally, though he was locked up in his house and avoiding humanity, you visited Happy. Peter offered to join you like all the other times, but you assured him it would be best if he stayed home, promising you would return later. Happy was in a similar state of dismay to you when you saw him and while he was able to care for himself and continue with his personal routine, you could tell he was hurting.

You didn't say much when you first entered his apartment, but there was comfort within the silence. You sat with him on his sofa and watched whatever mind numbing program he had turned on to distract his thoughts until you had both worked up an appetite for lunch. It was there, in the middle of a random Burger King in Queens over a plate of cheeseburgers that you both broke down. You told him what you had nearly done, trusting him with the sensitive information as he was almost a second father to you. You took your time telling him the story of how you had nearly died to bring back your father.

Happy cried as you did and when you were finished, he told you how much you meant to him. He traded your story for one from your father after he returned from Afghanistan where he had famously been kidnapped.

"You could tell he was shaken," Happy began. "He told me he wasn't scared to die, but he was scared of losing time with you and leaving you alone. Pepper and I had been so busy trying to get him back, he was worried you had been neglected while he was gone. But when he came home and he saw your room clean, your toys put away, and a fridge full of leftovers from meals you prepared yourself, he was so proud. You inspired him to turn his life around. It was after that he told me that he knew you'd be okay if he was taken from us one day."

You both cried after that.

Long after you had finished your food, Happy drove you to the Parker's new apartment with the promise that he would be okay too, eventually. He also admitted that he was starting to develop quite the liking for your faithful boyfriend after hearing all that he had done for you, though he’d skin you alive if you ever told Peter.

It was that night in Peter's new bedroom that you knew you’d be okay. It still hurt to think of your father and you knew you’d never entirely recover and that the pain would never fully leave you, but there was a certain comfort in it now. You knew Peter felt it too as he snuggled half asleep into your side, his arm slung around your body in a protective manner, but also to keep from falling of the twin bed you shared as he let you sleep on the side with the wall. There were still days when you didn’t want to leave your bed, but there were also days when you felt more elated than ever. You could feel your father in those moments the most, like the shine of his smile took form in the light from the sun. You couldn’t see him nor could you speak with him, but you knew he wasn’t really gone. It was love that kept him around. And it was the love you carried for him that would suspend you for lifetimes, through light and dark until the end of time.

“I hope this grief stays with me because its all the unexpressed love” - Andrew Garfield 💙

[annonniiiiieeeee]

how does usagi, katsuichi, and tomoe ame react to leo’s score of 11, leo’s murder spree, and leo winning the games

Leo’s score

They are impressed/shocked.

It’s rare for anyone to score that high

District 12 has never scored that high.

They have no idea why or how he got that score. What secret skills he has. They have been watching all of the tributes trying to come up with strategies for their kids but Leo had never seemed like a threat.

He is now

They tell their kids to avoid him. The 11 could be from survival skills but most likely at that high of a number it was from combat skills.

Later on once the games are over Usagi can think about how impressive that score was and how talented Leo is with duel blades. But those are thoughts for after Leo wins the games not before, not when there as two kids Usagi’s trying to keep alive.

The murder spree.

I just wrote about this but I’m going to make Leo’s allie come from district 10.

A young 13 year oils boy named Rakuyou

He is one of Usagi, Tomoe Ame and Katsuichi’s tributes

When Leo first finds the boy they are all certain it’s over for the young boy. He’s already injured and Leo is an unknown and dangerous tribute.

Instead Leo helps the boy out. He endears himself to all three victors. Leo gains nothing from helping the boy. Killing him after all that hard work would just make Leo look cruel and monstrous to the people of the capital. He endears himself more when he takes the kid under his wing.

They had all had to kill young kids or watch them die in their own games. They all wished they could have helped the younger kids like Leo is doing. If their 13 year old can’t win Leo wouldn’t be a bad victor to have among them.

Then Rakuyou dies. They all knew it was going to happen. Usagi won at 14 and Casey at 13 but that was with massive capital support and or years of prior training. Rakuyou had none of that. The boy didn’t stand a chance and if Leo hadn’t found him and helped him he would have died much sooner

They think they’re about to watch Leo die as well but he stays back until the careers leave. He has a small burial for Rakuyou. Nothing the size or scale of what Raph would do but it is the precursor. The first time someone mourned a different district.

Then he’s on the hunt.

He goes after careers and careers along.

Usagi and Tomoe Ame think they are going to watch him die but Katsuichi’s been at this a while. He can recognize a man on a mission.

Leo starts taking them out one by one. Usagi and Tomoe ame are equal parts impressed and disturbed. The Leo they and watched up until this point was gentle now he taking kids out left and right. They know it’s necissary. It’s how they won their games. But it’s still jarring to watch and they barely know Leo.

Katusichi is not ShopRite’s though he is saddened that the games claimed another gentle soul to their blood lust.

Or had they

Leo stops.

Leo stops when the last career falls. He doesn’t hunt down the other tributes. There’s no point they didn’t kill his friend.

Katsuichi’s shocked. He’s never seen anyone stop after a rampage like that. Usagi and Tomoe Ame don’t know what to think. Leo should keep going. He should keep fighting like this and win. Not sit down and wait for the enviable.

Leo’s victory

On one hand Leo’s spree plays into the districts being savage, on the other his stopping makes it very clear. He was avenging a little boy who died to soon. He is a capital favorite. He was charming in interviews. He made a splash in the parade. The capital people love him.

While president saki doesn’t like Leo’s morning of another tribute Leo still fits the role of victor well. He’s a savage. He also looks so broken by the death of his friend and his own actions. He doesn’t mind letting Leo win if Leo can survive

The game makes need the games to end, Leo’s not hunting and the other tributes are hiding, so they force a disaster. They flood the arena. Leo, a red ear slider, is the best swimmer in the group.

To Katsuichi this is the game makers letting the capital favorite win. It’s happened before. That doesn’t mean he’s not impressed by Leo’s performance. Leo is scarily comps dent in combat yet he choice to help another tribute. Katsuichi’s will remember that. He will remember that Leo tried to help his tribute. And he will repay the favor

Tomoe ame is surprised by the victory. He is the first victor from 12 ever. But she’s surprised he had the strength to swim. After his rampage he seemed to just give up.

Usagi is glad he won. If it couldn’t be one of his own tributes that won at least Leo seems to have some honor to him.

Leo seems dazed in his post interview. He gets the reputation of being a little crazy. He’s still charming and appealing but every now and then this haunted look over takes his face. It’s very prominent in the post interview.

None of them get to actually speak to Leo h til his victory tour and the next year tribute parade.

[jazz-penguin]

My thoughts on ofmd s2 finale - the last warning, SPOILER ALERT!

It’s sad that the series’ budget was cut, and instead of 10 episodes we got 8. Everything was happening too fast, like three episodes were cobbled together into one. The scenes follow each other so quickly that we didn’t even have time to mourn Izzy before the plot moved on... 💔

His death 😭 was quite predictable and even made sense narratively, but I didn’t want to believe it :( A big loss for the cast, Con O'Neill is a treasure!

Otherwise the ending is sweet. As promised, the show ended without a cliffhanger, in case this is the last season. But it would be a crime if such a wonderful series is not renewed. It's unique both in terms of the queer community representation and in terms of comedy shows. Pirate shows. Whatever, this is The Gay Pirate Show.

But it would have been so much better if we'd got three episodes instead of one! One for Ed to come in terms with him not being a fisherman, but an excellent pirate. And for us to proceed Gentlebeard kisses 🥰 Another for Izzy to die and for us to mourn him during silent credits. And the final episode to kill the British, avenge Izzy on that noseless twat AND for Stede to reflect on his relationship with Ed and on being a pirate and innkeeper. He is the main character after all, but in my opinion they didn't give him enough time in the finale, we didn't even saw them talking about staying on land 🤔.

Anyway I enjoyed the finale, it's not the plot, but the pacing that made it a little different from what I expected.

*also I didn't expect to cry ><*

Hoping for season 3 and 10 episodes, least 🤞🏻

P.S. Did Auntie help Buttons become a seagull only for him to make love to the sea? :D I would like to get more from this transformation. He could help the crew in battles by calling a flock of seagulls, or resurrect a certain someone idk ;D

P.P.S. Pay your writers. Pay your actors. Don't cut budgets of excellent shows ffs.

[koohiikori]

JJK Men Seeing Presumed Dead S/O HCs

Consists of : Gojo Satoru, Fushiguro Megumi

Warnings : mentions of death, bloody Megumi GIF, that's it?

Summary : You were gone. And they mourned for you -they still are-, but then you show up, alive and well.

//Okay I don't usually write HCs but I thought I'd give it a shot. Also, I have like... 8 stories in my drafts that I haven't posted, either because I think they're bad or I haven't finished them "^_^ gomen! I've been super busy lately. Anyways, hope you enjoy this one! Also, I made this as gender-neutral as possible, pls do comment if you find a pronoun I slipped in by accident!

1. Satoru Gojo

Stops for a second. Like literally STOPS.

This man never shuts up, let alone freezing in the middle of a fight.

Doesn't believe it at first, but his six eyes told him nothing but the truth.

It was you. You were alive.

Honestly, he was pleasantly surprised. Usually, he was the one bringing people "back from the dead".

Would finish up the fight ASAP so he could check up on you.

You've quite a bit to explain.

Gojo was used to it. Losing people, that is. The worst anyone's ever seen him was after his best friend left him and became a curse user.

Or that's what they thought was the worst.

When you were declared dead, he refused to believe it. He started going on more missions to fill in his time as if he wasn't busy enough. But, the worst part of it all, is that he has no one to blame but himself. He can't avenge you either because the cursed spirit is dead.

You were a strong sorcerer, so he didn't really worry too much when he asked you to accompany his students on a mission. In fact, he thought his students were safe under your care.

He wasn't wrong about the latter.

When the cursed spirit showed itself, the students practically froze in fear. You were the only one who managed to move and land a quick attack before pushing Yuuji and Megumi back. You wouldn't let the damn cursed spirit hurt your boyfriend's precious students.

So you told them to run. To go find Kugisaki and run. Of course, Yuuji refused to, but Megumi dragged him. You fought the cursed spirit the best you could, maneuvering to avoid his attacks and landing your own blows. But, you could only do so much damage. It was more like a battle of endurance. And with every second, you were getting slower, your attacks became less violent, and the injuries you sustained were getting worse every second.

At last, your body gave up.

They never found your body and assumed you were destroyed in the fight between Sukuna and the cursed spirit. Or that you were probably consumed by one of the cursed spirits.

So when he tore down the curtain and he felt your cursed energy, he looked your way and froze. He didn't believe it at first, but when he noticed the way you look up at him and grinned, he returned the grin with his own.

He's definitely finishing this butcher and tree as fast as he can.

"Care to explain where you've been, Y/n-chan?"

"Well a certain someone taught me a thing or two about defying death." You smirked.

The tall male smiled widely as he scanned your figure. You were about to explain that you were alright -and that you awoke your ability to use reversed cursed technique- but before you could, he pulled you into his arms.

"Guess I don't have to worry about you getting injured or dying so easily anymore."

2. Megumi Fushiguro

Would definitely think you were a cursed spirit or a curse user with a technique that allows you to transform.

Is probably stunned for a second before his emotions get the better of him.

Will not hesitate to attack after you say something.

How dare you impersonate the love of his life?

Looking exactly like them was offensive enough, but to act and sound like them too? Now that's just unacceptable.

But when he realizes you weren't a fake, he would stop to look at you, not believing his eyes and his heart.

Then proceeds to pull you by the wrist, forcing you into his arms and completely breaking out of his usually cool, calm, and collected self.

He would hug you so tight as if you were going to disappear if he lets go.

That damned curse user. He's been at it for a while now, no matter how much Megumi attacked, none of his offenses seemed to bother his opponent too much. He was getting frustrated. Every single nick and cut on his skin made him even more pissed.

He had to win this. Even if he had to die in the process, it's fine. As long as he manages to avenge you. As a matter of fact, he wouldn't mind dying after he killed the curse user. Because he'd be able to join you. He grinned slightly as he slumped onto the floor, blood dripping onto his palm.

Hope you're waiting for me up there

He stood up, each foot planting one by one. His hands clasped as he readied himself to summon his shikigamis, but then he stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't even move. He blinked once, twice, thrice. The figure was still there, looking away from him and blocking his view of the curse user he was facing. That's when it hit him.

It wasn't you. It must be the curse user's technique. Otherwise, how could you be there? You died just over a month ago, he'd used the past month to train, go on missions, and track the curse user down. And now he's pulling this stunt? He's going to kill this wretched being.

You turned around, facing him. You let out a sigh of relief before pulling the edges of your lips into a content smile as you saw the lover you'd left behind for the past month. It's not like you chose to, to be honest. It was because of your darn sensei. He forced asked you to stay 'dead' and help Nanami train Yuuji for a couple months. You were about to tell him when you heard pads behind you, along with a soft and unsure growl.

"Megumi, it's me." you said hesitantly, eyes going back and forth between him and the divine dog behind you.

"Shut up! Don't say another word. Stop it."

You parted your lips to say something, but pressed them into a thin line before lifting your right arm, you open your palm and sparks appeared. The same little sparks you made to calm him down when you were kids.

His expression fell, and he stood up straight, making his way with unsure steps. His eyebrows furrowed slightly and his eyes were filled with silent pleads, almost as if he's begging the universe to tell him this really is real.

"It's you." He let out. And you nodded in response.

He reached for your wrist and pulled you into his arms, head buried in the crook of your neck. His arms were around you, and he squeezed you ever so slightly.

You couldn't see it, but he was absolutely breaking. His eyes leaking tears, lips quivering, and jaw tense as he tried to convince himself this is real.

You pat his back with, returning the hug. Humming a tune as your other hand ran through his hair.

"Don't ever leave me again."

[discoscoob]

I've seen st*ddies complain repeatedly why there weren't scenes of Steve (and Robin and Nancy, but I feel they usually throw the girls in there as afterthoughts) mourning Eddie. I've seen them comfort themselves now saying Steve mourning Eddie will play out in S5.

Aside from being yet another thing they're very likely setting themselves up for disappointment they only have themselves to blame for, I realized the only characters Eddie's death would really effect are the Hellfire members, specifically Dustin since he was close to Eddie and was there when Eddie died, but also very potentially Nancy.  It was largely Nancy's battle plan set into motion and she was the one given the Vecna future vision, adding to her drive to try to prevent that future happening.  As we see at the end of S4, the Vecna vision is already starting to happen.  We didn't really get a chance to see how Nancy was dealing with how things went down in S4 and that only made me think we were most likely going to see that play out in season 5.

It's hard for seasoned COs to lose soldiers under their command and they've had training & experience dealing with losses like that, but Nancy - though dealing with the Upside Down horrors since S1 and her guilt over Barb's death - is a high school girl basically thrust into a wartime leadership position fighting monsters.  Eddie died, Max is in terrible condition and Hawkins is burning/being slowly devoured by the Upside Down. Even if I certainly don't blame the Nancy character for things going down like they did and with Nancy's continued guilt over Barb's death? It's too easy to see her blaming herself for what happened at the end of S4 and the battle plan not going over like they all hoped it would.

All that said, I realized that there's a greater likelihood - if Steve addresses Eddie's death at all - it'll be either trying to comfort Dustin and potentially comfort Nancy, both of whom are leaders of the group in their own ways and will likely continue to be so in season 5.  Nancy that will probably be more driven than ever to fighting & defeating Vecna to save her mom, her baby sister and Mike and everyone else she loves (or avenge those that continue to die at Vecna's hands).  More determined to not repeat the 'mistakes' she perceives herself having made in season 4.  Nancy harder on herself than ever.  

I've got no strong feelings about the Jancy vs. Stancy thing if she survives season 5.  I'm ultimately fine with whichever way the story takes us (or Nancy ends up with someone else or ends up single).  I admit though, I do lean towards Jancy.  However, it's just this idea that some of these st*ddies are so damn certain (though I have NO IDEA as to why) Steve will be sobbing over Eddie in season 5 and yet there's far, FAR better chances of Steve probably only bringing up Eddie as part of his comforting and supporting Nancy instead.  That Eddie's death, same with Max's coma and Hawkins burning wasn't her fault.  Steve comforting & supporting the woman he's still canonically in love with and has been so all series.  Steve, along with Jonathan and her other loves ones, convincing her not to be too hard on herself and they're there for her to lean on.  St*ddies delusionally thinking they'll get these sobby melodramatic moments, but instead they'll probaby just get more Stancy.  I laughed about it when I realized. >;)

I have pretty much nothing to add to this, I think it’s a good and interesting observation. I don’t think we’ll really see Steve mourning Eddie since he didn’t really get attached to him but I think he will definitely be comforting Dustin and possibly Nancy in season 5.

[shades-of-stony]

Royalty Stony AUs

A King for Christmas by iam93percentstardust

Summary: In 1867, Tony Stark flees New York after refusing to marry the alpha his parents chose for him. His money runs out in the small kingdom of Dacia, ruled over by King Steven of the Rogers line. Somehow, and he’s not entirely sure how, he ends up accepting the position of nanny to the king’s four children: Harley, Peter, Sarah, and Morgan.

Tony bonds with the children easily but their father is harder to get to know. Steve is still grieving his wife’s death four years earlier. His continued mourning has turned the once bright halls into dark and somber shadows of their former glory. Tony isn’t entirely certain what he can do but he knows that he has to do something or else the whole country, so attuned to their leader, will sink into despair. He begins by reconciling the king with his young children.

Meanwhile, the children have decided that it’s high time their father fall in love again—and Tony is the obvious choice. They concoct elaborate plans to force the two together, hardly realizing that Steve and Tony are falling in love, not through their shenanigans but through the quiet moments they share bonding over the love they have for the children.

A Higher Form of War by sabremc

Summary: Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

Basically one of those bodice-ripping romance novels I don't read (ahem) but with far more gay.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile) by starklystar

Summary: "You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

Fealty by  Lasenby_Heathcote and Robin_tCJ

Summary: Steve Rogers is Lord of America, and was gifted his corner of the kingdom of Starkland after amazing acts of heroism in the war against Hydra. A long, brutal winter forces Steve to go to King Howard for aid, and Howard agrees – under the condition that Steve bond with his Omega son, Tony. Steve agrees, of course, for the good of his people. Prince Tony is a trained Omega Consort – an Omega of status sent to a prestigious academy to become the perfect Consort Mate to high-status Alphas throughout the kingdom. At this academy they learn diplomacy, negotiation, proper manners, and, of course, the various ways to pleasure their Alphas.

I will wait by Shellhead616

Summary: Prince Stark was to marry a Prince he never met, for money he never wanted, to reign over a realm his father didn’t care for. But the Prince did care for his people. So he ran away, accidentally joined a group of misfits calling themselves the “Avengers”, with their fierce leader “The Captain". Although, when he discovers the secret the Captain has been keeping, everything changes.

one day by mvrcredi

Summary: One day.

One day Prince Steven would be king. One day he would have all the qualities to be an even better king than his father.

And maybe, one day, Tony would be his husband.

(But maybe, before that one day, Steven should reveal his secret to the man.)

My Loyalty to You by Hazein, Shi_Toyu

Summary: The Israelite nation has gone to war, Howard is acting erratic, and it’s everything Tony can do to argue with the war council to find the most advantageous strategies for their men. Then Thanos strides out of the enemy ranks and issues a challenge unlike any Tony has ever heard. If an Israelite can defeat him in one-on-one combat, their entire army will surrender. Too bad Thanos is twice the size of any man they have. Enter Steve Rogers, local sheppard and the king’s newest harp player, who claims he can fell this giant with nothing but a sling and a stone.

Whether he can manage it or not, Tony is just trying to figure out how you get to looking like that by tending sheep...

Arranged by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Summary: Royalty AU-- Howard arranges a match between Tony and Steve, but when Tony tries to run away with Tiberius instead, Steve goes after his betrothed and brings him home. Things are difficult between the couple at first, but an impulsive kiss leads to softer moments, and finally the arranged pair find happiness together.

Knight of Wands by  Sineala

Summary: Steve has reigned as king for ten years, and in a few days peace will finally come to his kingdom. Representatives of the Kree Empire are soon to arrive for the negotiations that will end the war between them once and for all. Steve is looking forward to settling down, with his hand-picked Avengers at his side -- led, of course, by the masked knight Iron Man -- and also his trusted advisors, the most beloved of whom is Tony, his court magician, the most powerful mage in all the land.

But when Steve's life is endangered, Tony makes the greatest sacrifice of all to protect his king, a sacrifice far greater than his life. And when Tony disappears under mysterious circumstances, Steve learns that even his closest friends keep secrets that he could never have suspected.

Chasing Daydreams by comecatchmeifyoucan

Summary: “Promise you’ll be there?” He mumbled into Steve’s chest.

“Of course.”

“Good.” Tony separated from Steve but his hand was still gently gripping the blond’s wrist. “Because the party only starts when I arrive, and I’m obviously not going if you won’t be there.”

Steve felt the brunet’s hand slip down to graze his, and he let it linger there for a second before it was suddenly pulled away from him. He could only hope that he had hidden his disappointment well.

Fortunately, Tony didn’t seem to notice Steve’s abrupt drop in mood.

✧ ─────── ♡ ─────── ✧

After years of pining for the brunet, Steve was finally going to get his chance to confess his feelings for Tony. If only he could find him in the crowd of masked-people first...

Luckily, when his hopeless crush is nowhere to be found, Steve meets a beautiful stranger to keep him company throughout the night.

heavy is the crown by theappleppielifestyle

Summary: “Why did you pick me? As a match. Howard forced you to marry, but you had - there were other options. Many of them.”

“Maybe I wanted to help you,” Tony says. “To help - anyone, for once. Your people needed it.”

Oh, Steve thinks dully. So it wasn’t about him at all. It’s - a comfort, in some ways. In others, it’s… less so.

“And-” Tony hesitates. "Everyone said you were kind. I thought… if I had to marry, I’d prefer to marry someone kind.”

(Or, Arranged Marriage AU.)

WIP:

The Crown- the stony au nobody asked for by Jo_StClaire

Summary: Tony is the sole Omega prince of Angsold, who falls in love with the Alpha Army Captain of a neighboring nation. When his father, King Howard, suddenly falls ill and passes, Tony's life is thrown out of wack when he becomes a reigning monarch at 25. Follow Tony through the struggles of being a newly-wedded Omega as well as a leader of a nation. He must learn to balance his love for his people with his love for his husband Steve. (Loosely Based off of the Netflix series The Crown)

No More, No Less by ABrighterDarkness

Summary: His father had been discussing it again, amongst his advisers. He was barely eighteen , what did he need of a wife at eighteen? Frankly, he was already tired of hearing about it. Tired of meeting the daughters of the various men that were deemed important enough. None of them had caught his attention in the least and he suspected that they never would. Not when his daydreams already consisted of intelligent brown eyes, rich brown curls and a wickedly charming grin.

Protea by Anonymous

Summary: After witnessing the injustice done onto his parents, Steve Rogers sneaks into the Ferrite Royal Palace to try and find answers. Fate decides to saddle him with solving shady scandals while unknowingly becoming involved with the nation’s omegan king, Anthony.

And deal with all the baggage and drama that comes along with it.

Or…

A Concubine!Steve AU

they're both princes in this one by vapaad

Summary: Steve Rogers is the first son of the United States The entire nation sees him as America’s golden boy. Handsome, smart, charming, and overall perfection– Steve is an icon to the youths of America. But Steve, well he has one little issue. He thinks Prince Anthony, yes the british prince, is a big jerk. Arrogant and an overall asshole.

So when an encounter between the two results in chaos, Steve and Anthony “call me Tony” are thrusted into a PR stint of being best friends. But soon enough, they both come to the realization that they want more, and there, bloomed a secret relationship between the first son of the united states, and the prince of England.

tell me i'm your national anthem by oopshidaisy for chasingconstellations

Summary: Red, White & Royal Blue AU. Tony Stark is the unwilling First Son of the United States, whose rivalry with beloved Prince Steve threatens UK/US relations. After an international incident involving a wedding cake, Steve and Tony are forced to fake a friendship for the public eye - a fake friendship that evolves into something real, and dangerous.

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 27th of September 2021

This is speculation only

Cards drawn 23rd September 2021

Question: How is Her Majesty the Queen?

Note: This reading was done before the NYC pseudo-royal 'tour'.

Interpretation: She is at the end of a cycle, reviewing her life, and stressed about current and future situations within the monarchy.

Card One: The World. This is one of two major arcana cards in the reading, and a dominant energy of the reading. The world card is about being at the end of a cycle, looking back to review the work done to reach this place, and taking time to celebrate before you step into the future. This is what Her Majesty is doing.

Her Majesty is reviewing her entire life as a monarch, with all the successes and failures, and reflecting on everything she has learnt and done that has brought her to this point in time: on the verge of celebrating her platinum jubilee. She is taking a moment to review and reflect on the past before she moves into the future, starting with the celebrations next year. She knows that she no longer has 60, 40, or even 20 years ahead of her, and she is using this time to reflect on her life as Queen and to try and distil what she has learnt into advice that she can give to her successors.

Card Two: The Six of Wands. This is card about the success of a project and celebrating that success. It can be the success of a project or achieving an important milestone. The card shows Jason holding triumphantly aloft the goal of his quest, the golden fleece.

In this reading the Six of Wands is the Jubilee celebrations for next year, a milestone celebration for Her Majesty. The Queen is looking over the Jubilee plans and giving her input for the public celebration of her years as a monarch. The energy here is of an activity that is relaxing and relatively stress free, so I think she is enjoying the planning.

Card Three: The Seven of Wands. This is a card of conflict, and the cards before and after it show what the conflict is about - the Jubilee and Harry (the Hermit card). The Seven of Wands can be about holding your ground or your position against threats to it. The picture shows Jason and his followers fighting with the supporters of his usurper uncle.

This card shows conflict, and the conflict is between HMTQ and Prince Harry. It concerns the Jubilee celebrations. Her Majesty has taken a certain position on this - most likely concerning Harry's involvement - and is fighting to hold her ground against the supporters of Prince Harry/Prince Harry himself, who most likely wants a greater involvement (like Jason's usurper uncle wanted to keep ruling the kingdom, Prince Harry wants to have his old place in these celebrations).

Card Four: The Hermit. This is the second major arcana card of the reading, so it is the second strong energy of the reading. The card shows the god Kronus, also known as Saturn, who we see today in the figure of Father Time.

This card has two energies. The first, minor energy is that of a sun-sign Virgo, as the Hermit is the card of Virgo. Prince Harry is a sun-sign Virgo. This energy of Prince Harry is tied into the previous card of conflict.

The second and stronger energy of this card is that of being alone, as the Hermit is alone, and of age and approaching death, as per the figure of Kronus/Saturn/Father Time. Her Majesty knows that she is at the end of her life, and the celebrations for next year may very well be the last major celebrations of her reign. She feels alone, bereft of support, as Prince Philip is no longer with her, and she misses him. This energy is of age, the death of loved ones, and mourning for them. I feel that her parents and her sister are also in her thoughts. Her Majesty is the last one left of her family 'group' - her parents, sister, and husband have all gone before her, and this makes her sad. She would have liked at least one of them to be with her for her jubilee celebrations (realistically Philip or Margaret), but that was not to be.

Card Five: The Nine of Pentacles. This is the card of someone who has worked hard and who is contemplating the fruit of their labour. The card shows the craftsman Daedalus standing and contemplating the result of his lifetime of work - the golden pentacles at his feet.

This is what the Queen is doing - looking over her lifetime of work and contemplating her legacy, soon to be celebrated as her Platinum Jubilee. However, the Nine of Pentacles is also a card about being single, and Her Majesty is recently widowed. The energy here is threaded through with sadness and loss. In the midst of preparing for her jubilee, HMTQ feels the loss of her husband keenly. She is reminded that she is once again alone, without the man who has been the rock of her long reign, and she feels this keenly.

Underlying Energy One: The Four of Cups. The card shows Psyche sitting between her sisters, as they gossip with her about her marriage and her husband. The gossip makes Psyche discontented with her married life, as she never sees her husband and gossip says that he is a monster.

The Four of Cups is a card of emotional dissatisfaction. It can mean being disappointed in something, or feeling disillusioned with life in general. In this deck, the suggestion is that those feelings arise from listening to gossip. It can also be a time when you are reevaluating things internally, and not taking any new opportunities because you want to be sure within yourself that they are the right thing to do before you pursue them.

This is how HMTQ is feeling underneath it all. She is aware of gossip, which here is coming across as public opinion/what people are saying, and it is bothering her. She is dissatisfied with how things are going or how they have turned out. She is rethinking or reevaluating her decisions as she is no longer sure that they are correct, and she doesn't want to proceed any further along a set path until she has worked out the right thing to do.

Underlying Energy Two: The Eight of Swords. This card shows Orestes trapped in a semi-circle of swords. On one side are the Furies, beings that torment him for murdering his mother, and on the other side is the god Apollo, who laid on Orestes the task of murdering his mother to avenge his father.

The Eight of Swords is a card of feeling very stressed and trapped, but that feeling is only in your mind. If you look at the situation carefully, there is a way out, as Orestes could walk backwards out of the semi circle of swords and run away from the Furies, but usually the person can't see the way out of the situation.

With respect to the dissatisfaction in the Four of Cups, HMTQ feels trapped and extremely stressed. She knows that the situation is causing people to feel very upset and vindictive (the Furies), and that this anger is directed at the BRF (the god Apollo). She can not see a way out of the situation, and that is the cause of her stress. The way out is likely to involve going backwards in a situation, and here the energy is of rescinding something that she has said, or taking back a gift that was made, and she does not want to do that as it is against her precepts of good behaviour, so she is blind to that solution as it is something that one just does not do in her eyes. The situation most likely involves someone or someones who HMTQ sees as trapped by their behaviour (as Orestes is trapped in the semi circle of swords), and she is unable to influence them into better behaviour (Apollo is looking very stern but Orestes is so stressed that he is not listening to Apollo), and so the anger at their actions falls on the BRF as a whole as well as on that person or persons.

Underlying Energy Three: The Three of Wands. This card shows Jason standing on the shores of a river. he has lost a sandal, and by that sign is identified as the rightful king. The usurper king, his uncle Pelias, kneels before him and offers him the crown.

The Three of Wands is a card about initial success in a venture. A project has been started and so far things have turned out well. More opportunities are available to you, and they will enable you to expand your current venture, but you have to go looking for them and that may involve venturing out of your comfort zone.

In this deck, the Three of Wands is my card for the line of succession - the passing down of the crown to the next legal inheritor - and it is this energy that is coming through here. HMTQ is worried about the line of succession. It is not an energy of confidence, but one of concern. This could just be a mother worried about how her son will cope with the responsibilities of a new position, but the energy feels like more than this. HMTQ is worried about what sort of king Charles will be, and how his reign will affect the future of the BRF. She has genuine concern about his ability to be a ruler and not second in command. I'm not getting that she thinks he is unfit to rule, but rather that she thinks his judgement is questionable at times, and that she thinks that he may make decisions that will not be in the best interests of the country and those decisions will come back and damage the monarchy, to the detriment of the future heirs, William and George.

Underlying Energy Four: The King of Cups. This is the card of a water sign person, particularly a Scorpio, and here it stands for Prince Charles, who is a sun sign Scorpio. Taken with the card before it (the Three of Wands), this tells me that Her Majesty's concern with the line of succession is focused on Prince Charles in this case, and with the future of the monarchy as represented by her heir.

Major Arcana Cards: The World and the Hermit. Her Majesty is aware that she is at the end of a cycle, and she is reviewing her life as Queen and looking at the results of her life of service. She feels very alone as she does this.

Dominant Suit: Three of the nine cards are wands, the suit of PR and of creative energy. In this reading, wands are coming across as how the actions of individuals within the line of succession are affecting the stability of the monarchy through their affect on the public perception of the monarchy, both now and in the future.

Conclusion: Her Majesty is at the end of a cycle, and she is looking back over her past in preparation for what is to come - the celebration of her Jubilee and, eventually, the end of her reign. She is enjoying planning the milestone celebration of her Jubilee, but with this comes conflicts with Prince Harry. She feels very alone and very single as she reviews her life's work and contemplates it from the perspective of being at the end of her reign. She is missing Prince Phillip very much in all of this. Underneath it all, she is dissatisfied, worried and stressed about the positions of various members of the family, and she is reviewing her actions with respect to those people. She also has concerns about Charles's judgement as future king and how that will affect the monarchy.

[sam-t-a]

Okay. 

*Deep breath* 

I think I’m finally calm enough to put into words exactly why I hated the finale and why I wasn’t completely surprised that I hated it. 

(Heads-up: this is really long and pretty negative. If you disagree, I would of course appreciate your point of view and love to hear it, but just thought I’d let you know in case this is the kind of post you would like to avoid.)

To me, it felt like every character on the show got betrayed in some way or another, but the main ones are Han Seo (devastatingly), Chayoung (obviously) and Han Seok (bear with me). 

Cha Young: 

She started out as a solid FL who annoyed some people for sure, but who had so much promise as someone unconventional and bold. The way her mother’s death affected her and caused a clear shift in her personality was a super interesting plot point that really never got explored. We have no idea how she came to sacrifice her morality in joining Wusang, just that she wanted to spite her father, which is a very superficial exploration. She gets cute idiosyncrasies in lieu of an actual character and an actual character arc. 

We also, halfway through the show, seem to forget that her father's death was the initial trigger. Cha young does not suggest bold ideas or intricate plans, she doesn’t fill the gaps Vincenzo is incapable of filling (because that would require that Vincenzo have flaws, and that’s not something the writers can abide), and she’s literally victimized in episode 19 and bedridden in episode 20, and that is IT. 

Someone who started out supposedly as Vincenzo’s equal just became another piece in his chess set, no matter how important a piece she may be. 

So her role as a badass avenger is trashed. That leaves her role as a love interest. Now, as Vincenzo’s love interest, she was supposed to get kidnapped in like episode 5 or 6 at the most if the villain has any brains whatsoever (Han Seok may or may not, more on that later). We need a reason for that not to happen too early. Cue villain is somehow in love with her for all of 15 minutes or so throughout a 20-episode series because a love triangle is inconceivable with the show’s current structure and for its purposes. 

So, she spends 15 or so episodes making the first move on Vincenzo, every time, putting herself out there, creating cute moments, getting nothing in return, and then he leaves. No confession, nothing much, he wasn’t even going to say goodbye or give her the choice of coming with him. 

I’m sure more chayenzo-oriented fans have already expressed all the necessary outrage over this, so I’ll move on to the part that I’ve personally been way more emotionally invested in from the get go: the Jang brothers. 

Han Seo: 

I was among the minority that  hated the “Vinny hyung” angle from the get-go and I’ve ranted about it in another post, so I won’t get into it here in-depth, but basically it was because I felt like Vincenzo hadn’t earned it, so to have the last words Han Seo hears be “You deserve to be my brother” or whatever the fuck he was on about PISSED ME OFF. It’s VINCENZO who doesn’t deserve to be Han Seo’s brother and hasn’t done a single thing to earn it. He was a good ally. The situation he allowed Han Seo to be a part of was beneficial to him, but Han Seo’s attachment to him was neither healthy nor heartwarming, and it certainly wasn’t returned on the level he offered it.

Vincenzo’s disregard of his death didn’t strike me as odd because I never saw enough indications that this was a two-way street and Han Seo’s safety and well-being came second so often that I didn’t get the impression Vincenzo was doing much to keep him alive. This is what I meant when I said the show was glorifying a torture survivor’s trauma responses. Han Seo himself, as a torture survivor, meant nothing to them. He was just there to create one more contrived comparison between Vincenzo and Han Seok. Instead of recovering from the trauma, it’s simply employed to someone else’s favor. He doesn’t go to prison for Han Seok, he takes a bullet for Vincenzo, and we’re supposed to see that as so much better.

All of that might (JUST MIGHT) not have ruined the show for me if he’d died better. 1) It was narratively pointless and totally avoidable, 2) they could’ve framed it as heroic, but instead Han Seok’s hand patting his head is pushing it down, so he can’t even get shot with his chin up and his back straight, Taec’s already taller, so the angle’s fucked and the whole cinematography screamed “kicking an injured puppy” and most certainly NOT “survivor finally stands up to his abuser”. The final nail in the proverbial and literal coffin is that he is mourned by no one. They’re FLIRTING not 3 MINUTES LATER, it felt so tone deaf and left such a bad taste. As I said, I didn’t expect significant mourning from Vincenzo (gotta say, I didn’t expect no mourning, that was a shocker), and Cha young and the tenants had no real interactions with him and no reason to mourn him, which left only one person who could. 

Which brings me to Han Seok. 

Han Seok started out as a solid villain, clear goals, clear skills that help him achieve his goals and basically make him a villain worth defeating, and a very complex relationship with both his own psychopathy and his brother. 

Let me get it out of the way: I do not believe Han Seok is capable of killing Han Seo because he had every reason and every opportunity to do so in previous episodes and couldn’t do it (I say couldn’t because a certain degree of reluctance is in itself inability). Han Seo’s danger far outweighed his material value the minute he shot Han Seok and then completely lost any value once he came out to the world as the chairman and it became clear that the prosecution would be going after him if anything happened, and not his brother. But time and again, he’s proven he’s all bark and no bite when it comes to Han Seo (killing-wise, specifically). 

The scene where he asks him to beat Vincenzo to death could be interpreted as him wanting to give Vincenzo the “painful death” he would have given him, but honestly, I think he was way past that point. He just wanted him dead in the “You crazy? we have to kill him before he kills us” sense. To that end, killing off a key ally of Vincenzo’s, who betrayed you and almost got you killed a bunch of times, should take priority, but Han Seok’s priority is reclaiming Han Seo by forcing him back onto his side. Now, much like his “love for Cha young”, Han Seok’s keenness on not killing his brother was essential to the writers so that Han Seo can justifiably make it this far and still be useful to Vincenzo (he can’t help if Han Seok completely excludes him from all events, plans and management processes, so Han Seok needs to want to keep him on his side enough not to do that even when it’s more prudent). 

All of this isn’t to say it’s unbelievable that he would kill Han Seo, but it’s DEFINITELY unbelievable that he would stay the same man after killing him. Someone here (I’m sorry, I don’t rememebr who) once said that Han Seo had become, over time, far more of a foil to his brother than Vincenzo was. To me, this means that Post-Han Seo Han Seok would be out of balance (tilted screen), unhinged in a way he never was before. The Han Seok we see shrugs and “oh, well”-s and moves on in a flash, not really any different from the villain he was four minutes and a whole brother earlier. 

This is very consistent with the way the show has been de-humanizing him from the start. I’m not saying this to defend Han Seok in any way, he’s a serial killer, an abuser and a total maniac. But you can be all those things and still a human being. In fact, you can ONLY be those things if you’re a human being. The show used its villain vs villain idea to justify a lot, but in the end, Vincenzo had to be a protagonist. He had to follow up every “I’m a villain” with a contrived “but at least I’m not (insert something worse)”. 

On the level of humans:

1) Vincenzo is supposedly different because he doesn’t hurt children or women (unless the women deserve it, and shooting a parent in front of their kid doesn’t count as hurting.) 

But we never see Han Seok hurting women or children either. In fact, if we proceed with the “chayoung is the myung hee of the good guys” comparison, he hasn’t hurt any women nearly as badly as Vincenzo did. 

2) Babel vs Mafia 

Babel’s corruption is compared a lot to the mafia, with Vincenzo commenting repeatedly that the people are WORSE than the mafia...which is bullshit. Babel is a set of companies that provide goods and services, but use illegal means to maximize their profit, so they hurt/kill people in the process because they want more money and care about money more than ethics. The Mafia is an inherently criminal organization that functions PURELY on the basis of its criminality. Every single dime Vincenzo spends is blood money. None of it is clean. And while we’re on the topic, I find the whole “taking Miri under his wing” thing pretty unreasonable too because he tried to have her killed you guys, I cannot believe we’re just glossing over that. He had everyone who worked on that vault killed, just random fucking construction workers. And he’s not sorry. And the show tells you he shouldn’t be. 

3) Repentance

Han Seok says outright he won’t atone, and while Vincenzo says no such thing out loud he just...doesn’t repent, I guess. He keeps the blood money, he goes back to being a full-time mafia dude doing mafia things. He leaves the same man he arrived. 

So, if on the level of harm inflicted upon humanity, Vincenzo and Han Seok are pretty much equal (and Vincenzo might actually be worse), then why should we root for Vincenzo? 

Well, my friend, that’s where the dehumanization comes in! 

I was initially very excited to see their portrayal of a psychopath because of the very interesting ways in which the informal moral code and official justice system surrounding a psychopath/sociopath/narcissist affect their behavior and their chances of not turning out rotten, and the show looked like it was looking at corruption in general. 

But as the show went on, the villain vs villain thing proved not to be enough, Vincenzo has to be better in some way (or if you’re as obsessed with him as the writers are, then ALL ways), so it became a villain vs monster narrative. Vincenzo isn’t ethical or fair or in any way interested in having a remotely positive impact on society, but at least he’s A HUMAN BEING unlike SOMEBODY. So, the characterization goes to shit, Han Seok becomes a cartoon card-board cut out of a villain and emphasis is put on how pointless his violence is, as opposed to how purposeful Vincenzo’s is. 

This is dangerous on multiple levels (and I promise this is the last point I’m making). 

1) For people in general, dehumanizing abusers/murderers/etc. makes us very liable to forget that you don’t have to be “a monster” to cause harm, and it makes people complacent in their belief that they are “not bad people” since they aren’t total monsters. The Banality of Evil is a thing, and in this series, it goes completely ignored. No one is inherently incapable of good or inherently undeserving of humanity. 

2) For victims of abuse in specific, it’s dangerous to portray abusers (including serial killer and non-serial killer ones) as entirely bad and unlovable, because it poses the dual risk of making victims less likely to acknowledge their abuse if it comes from someone who cares about or loves them on some level because the idea that someone cannot both love and hurt you is so stereotypical. Your abuser can genuinely want you in their lives and need you and, on some level, love you, and IT DOESN’T MATTER if that love doesn’t stop them from hurting you. 

On the other hand, portraying the victims of abuse as capable of flipping an off switch and hating the abuser with no hesitation or second thoughts to the point of unapologetically and cheerfully helping someone kill them and having no mixed feelings about it sends the message that if you CAN’T do that, then are you really abused? Are sure you’re not complicit in your own abuse? Do you even want to get rid of them? 

So this is basically why the way the show ended was so painfully disappointing for me. And the main reason it hit so hard was that it was initially so good and had so much promise. I really expected more.

[atlasmisery]

brother nier in relation to the events of the aerie and junkheap

(as of writing, i have not completed the entirety of nier: replicant. where i am at now is around the beginning-middle end of the storyline before the first ending.)

brother nier is an interesting protagonist so far, and shows signs of the classic tragic hero. in a well-meaning attempt to accomplish a good-natured goal (to cure his sister’s illness), he ends up walking a much bloodier and darker path than he intended. nier’s ‘timeskip’ very much emphasizes this, showing us nier in his purer days as a youth as opposed to his currently revenge-addled and unstable self.

the thing is with nier is that, while he’s certainly a kind-hearted person who helps those in need, everyone is all but secondary to the ‘few people he loves most’. this, of course, is obviously yonah, but this also extends to kaine, weiss and emil. he fixates on these people, and in certain points in the story, faces little hesitation in regards to sacrificing other people for them. it’s an incredibly interesting contradiction in his demeanor... but the consequences of sort of thing requires intense writing to be able to portray ‘properly’ and ‘gut-wrenchingly’. 

of course, leave it up to no other than yoko taro to be able to portray nier’s contradiction wonderfully. there are two instances in the story that highlight this.

the fall of the aerie:

here, nier’s ‘fixation’ on saving ‘the few people he loves’ becomes very, very apparent. in this point of the story, he, in his quest to defeat shades, basically obliterates an entire village of people.

the aerie, in the story, was not very welcoming or ‘loveable’ of an area as opposed to the others. it’s loss, while not heavy on the heart, still makes an impact. it was the village with the most tightly-knit ‘character’, i feel. facade, seafront and nier’s village all have varieties of people, but aerie was the one with the incredibly rude shut-ins. and this was consistent between all the villagers. as frustrating as they were, it’s not like they deserved to die... is probably the thought that comes to mind.

now, as for nier himself:

Emil: I killed innocent people. I killed them all. Nier: But you saved us.

the scene at the end of the aerie’s fall tells it all. emil, heartbroken, and maybe the audience perspective, is mourning the loss of villager lives. he’s in agony and, even if you can’t see a human expression, you can tell with his wavering voice he deeply regrets what he did. this is shown in contrast to nier, who’s expression changes little. he’s only focused on comforting the distressed emil, and seemingly doesn’t feel much in regards to the lost lives.

in fact, he says something incredibly cold, and telling, of what he thinks of what took place, and where he’s heading from now on.

Nier: Really. Don’t look back.

nier kills, and kills, and kills, and doesn’t look back. he thinks, he doesn’t need to, he has to keep looking forward, he needs to keep his eyes on yonah and her whereabouts. if not, she might slip away, therefore, he can’t afford to look back.

but what if he did look back? what will he see? a trail of blood and corpses, all of his own making? would he feel anything, anything at all upon seeing such a thing?

gideon’s revenge:

the first thing we are shown in this section of the story is jakob’s demise, and gideon’s change. the boy lost both his mother and brother to the junk heap, and we’re shown him teetering on madness in regards to his fixation with revenge. he wants the robot responsible for his brother’s death dead at all costs, working on forging weapons for years in an attempt to make a sword that can bring it down.

Gideon: I need to ask you for a favor. Nier: Oh yeah? Gideon: I want you to avenge my brother! Grimoire Weiss: That’s a rather ponderous mission. Gideon: It’s my mission! It’s the whole reason I’ve been creating these weapons for the past four years. Gideon: I don’t care about money! I only care about making a weapon strong enough to kill those bastards!

sounds familiar? well, i’d think that’s the intention. gideon’s state and his vengeance is an obvious allusion to nier’s own quest for yonah. while she’s (probably) not dead, he is going on his own personal cruel rampage for it. having done the forest of myth quest before this one, the allusions just feel even more obvious.

Weiss: It spoke! This Shade has intelligence! And emotion! Nier: Who cares? Nier brushes Weiss' comment aside has his sword sliced through the Shade's right arm.

both nier and gideon expressed they don’t care, not as long as they can accomplish their goal. they’re both full of rage over the loss of their own sibling, and seem to teeter on madness in their own quests... but.

Gideon: You stupid machine! You killed my family! You took everything from me! Nier: Hey, come on. That’s enough. Gideon: Aaah ha ha! I did it! Now that this goddamn thing is dead, I can forage wherever I want! Gideon: Just wait, you goddamn freak! Now I can make all KINDS of powerful weapons! Gideon: Just leave it to me! Leave it all to me! HA HA HA HA HA! AAAH HA HA HA HAAAAAH! Nier: Look, we get it, okay? Really...

this scene does invoke a sense of ‘wow, this reminds me of what nier is like when he’s killing shades’, but what’s surprising... is how nier reacts. he’s disturbed. in jakob, he starts to see himself, and feels an inch of hesitation in his actions and what he’s become. for a moment, he’s tempted to not look forward, but to look back.

Grimoire Weiss: Hatred and Madness will never heal a wounded heart. Nier: Maybe it’s just all that he’s capable of right now. Grimoire Weiss: Revenge is a fool’s errand.  Nier: ...Yeah. I know.

when he says, ‘maybe it’s just all that he’s capable of now’, you can tell nier feels a sense of empathy for the poor boy. he understands. nier, who had spent five years hunting shades for his lost sister, can see himself in the boy who spent four years forging swords to avenge his brother. and, another thing he sees, is a distorted image of himself. a broken revenge-hungry madman, someone he hesitates to become, but is well on the path to becoming to. recognizing this terrifies him.

the aerie and jakob— what do these two tell of nier’s mental landscape?

he, despite seemingly being a kind helpful person, has a tendency to over-prioritize those much closer to him. this was on a smaller level when he was younger, but it only developed and became worse throughout the timeskip. it’s gotten bad enough that he can close his eyes and look away from an entire village he killed, but he isn’t so far off yet. a smidge of his former self still remains, and that self is afraid upon seeing what gideon had become. gideon represents what nier may become once his former self fully disappears. and, to nier, to become a broken revenge-hungry madman, is something even he feels troubled thinking about... but for yonah, he’s willing to do anything, right? so will he take a moment to look back, or keep looking forward?

we’ll find out soon enough.

[xfeliciahardyx]

Summary: What happened in the bakery changed you. The next few years would force you to harden and build so many walls that you vowed to never let anyone in. You can probably guess what happens when a certain soldier starts to scale those walls so that he can get to you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mention of blood, intense details about ww2, side character deaths, traumatic backgrounds, mention of Nazis, mentions of broken bones and bullet wounds, children suffering due to the war, imprisonment in a concentration camp, someone does get stabbed, and angst (Warnings will be added as the story continues if need be. This is just for the first chapter!)

Taglist: ~Here~ (Feel free to add yourself to any other categories!)

Word Count: 9k

Author's Note: Okay everyone reading I first want to say thank you for reading my imagine. There are some things that I need to clarify before you start reading this. The entire series will be me going through the Captain America movies. It first starts at The First Avenger and continues through the places in time where Bucky is and where he is not OoOoOoO plot twists. But yes this can be overwhelming to read because some details are VERY graphic. i did use techniques from my medical skills class so all the medical procedures are researched and correct. Please enjoy The Winter Soldier and The White Feather or as I like to call it WSWF

The war was changing you and everyone around you. It was making kind people turn green and bad people even worse. You learned that the hard way of course. When you’d had been taken to the facility you didn’t know what to expect. Now you had been in it for God knows how long and you didn’t know what would happen. You had no way of contacting your family. Of contacting anyone you knew really. You were lost, scared, hoping for a savior that didn’t seem to be appearing. Lost traveling in a fog ridden meadow without any sense of direction. It killed you to see how many people died and suffered at the hands of the Germans, but your screams were of no use. The way they treated everyone was as horrible as a cat chasing a mouse. Like you were the filth on their boots, the scum of the earth. Any time someone said something to them they’d react as if a fire touched their skin and recoil away. They acted as if they didn’t have enough money to feed anyone properly. The food was sure to break several health codes back in the city but that didn’t seem to stop you all from eating it. If it wasn’t stale bread that you could knock someone out with, it was week old soup that had hints of green to it. The water was as piss pore and was a dull gray. Not your best moments or the biggest feast for the holidays but it was for survival. It was meant for you to get on through the day and do as you’re told. The inmates had started to call it the end of the world. You didn’t blame them because it was. That didn’t stop them from constantly complaining about every little thing. You on the other hand couldn’t give a fuck. It was like every single one up and flew away with the happiness that had been your life in France. You couldn’t even speak after the horrors the world and slammed into your life. You avoided everyone and everything that lived, scared and desperate to stay hidden. It was the way to go and others followed your lead. You weren’t one to speak or do anything with another person and the others around you knew it. So, they cleared their distance and you appreciated it. You had never been one to stay quiet for long around people. Eventually you’d try to get to know them. But you had changed just as times had. Even now you knew to keep your cool and to keep up with your manners. At any minute they could kill you. Or they could do something to shatter your already scarred mind. You knew you weren’t like the people who decided to suck up to them. Kissing the floor, they walked on for a little bit of clean water, or a bowl of soup that was freshly made. They were horrible to the suck ups and laughed at them as they did their best to seem appealing. You would never stoop as low to be a person who supported the people who had made this sad reality your life. Despite everything your parents had done to you, you always managed kindness. The girl who was secretly the crush of every guy because of her brains. The kind of girl that went to the library in her free time. The girl who never dated because she claimed she wanted to focus on school but could never know how to talk to guys. Went to the movies with her one friend who she cared about more than anything. The girl who made life positive because her family had always made it negative. Yes, you were over all kind but when you needed to be you could be as sharp as a spear. So, why did they kidnap you? It was simply a case of being at the wrong place in the wrong time. But that didn’t excuse their actions following the moments they walked in that bakery with their rifles held high and their voices screaming in curses. Why did they have to kill one of the most important people in your life right in front of you? Shot her straight through the heart at the bakery around the block from the school. All because she was Jewish. Their logic didn’t explain why they had the right to take her life. Her younger siblings had been complaining about food and you had an extra food stamp to use. You’d despised the stars they had to wear on their chest that prohibited them from having the normal things every person

needs. You all had practically skipped to the bakery in hopes that they’d have chocolate. It was a nice moment thinking that everything was back to normal. She had only been 21 and you 20. That was 3 years ago. Even so long after you could still imagine the events that had occurred. Her blood had splattered all over your polka dotted yellow dress. All she had asked for was food for her siblings. Sure, sweets would have been kind but you were all hungry in general. When the soldiers had come in, they’d been attracted to her star. You should have been on guard more, but you’d been naive to think they wouldn’t harm them. One had grabbed Ciera and pushed himself against her. In her reaction she’d kicked the German away and his comrade shot her. Her siblings that had been clinging to your side as they shot her cried out for their sister as she dropped to the ground. Siblings that had their throats slit as they clung to your arms. You had begged for their lives. They were just two children. You thought they would have a little mercy. You knew you would take care of them for their sister. You tried to explain that Tommy and Cassandra had been hungry, and their sister had been killed right in front of them. The trauma they had suffered was enough for their minds to endure. All of what was happening was enough to make anyone mad. It was necessary that they cry and mourn. But as heartless as they were, they showed no remorse. That two children crying for their dead sister would never and hadn’t stopped the Germans. They’d ripped the children from your hands and pressed their silver knives to their throats killed them. You wanted to fight for them. You loved them like your own siblings. They didn’t deserve the fate that had been handed to them. The third soldier had held your arms behind your back to stop you from tearing them away. You had tried to fight him, but you knew he wouldn’t let go. You watched the blood slip from their throats, and you sagged against the soldier. He had been the kinder of the three. A recruit perhaps. You didn’t realize until later that he’d held you in his embrace throughout the car ride to the place where you’d be transported. The screams that left their mouths still haunted you and you saw their terrified faces in your dreams. Sometimes they would come together as a group. Other times Tommy would visit you with blood seeping from his throat asking you for his sisters. You blamed yourself for not fighting hard enough. You watched as the life left your eyes when you knew it should have been you. You should have been dead on the ground with them as they lay dead next to their sister on the ground. Yes, life was unfair. But if life was unfair than war was no comparison.

“Gurl!” A German soldier yells pointing his finger to a spot in front of him. Most of them could barely speak English and when they did it was so slurred. Half the times you had to watch their hand motions to understand what they wanted. His eyes are locked on you from your spot by the back of the courtyard. It was a quiet place that everyone avoided because of the sun that would beam on you. They preferred the shade, but you just needed the quiet heat to cleanse your mind. You cursed and grabbed onto the chain fence behind you to lift yourself up. It bent with your weight but you knew it wouldn’t break. It was a trashy fence that if you tried to climb, you’d either be shot down or just get so scratched that you’d just end up doing more harm than good. The fence traveled around the vast courtyard that was rundown and brown. The fence had rust in certain spots from when it rained but it never did anything for the concrete. Blood stains covered the floor from where prisoners had been shot and dragged away. There were splatters and puddles all over the already dirty floor. Even on the ground leading into your cells you’d find the lengthened blood beneath your feet. The courtyard was the only time you got to see the outside world. They also had a calendar on the wall that told you what day it was. You weren’t sure why but maybe it was to bring down the spirits of everyone. You on the other hand had been there for 3 years 2 months and 25 days. Since the beginning of the German’s invasion of France. It was made up of mock punching bags filled with paper plates and hard pillows that no dared to sleep on. People sat in cliques all around speaking in different languages. Most of them spoke French and in your time there you’d picked up bits of other languages. Nothing too major but just enough to understand.

“Ve dount ave foreevare vittle gurl.” He yelled again and you picked up your pace. You didn’t want to do anything to cause any more attention to yourself. His accent sent prickles of fear up your spine and the hairs on your arms stood on end. As you walked by a few whispers drafted into your ears and people glanced away. Being called over by a soldier wasn’t a good thing and people avoided it as much as they could. There was always the possibility of someone getting shot or having to do something you weren’t mentally or physically prepared to do. So, the terror that was filling up your mind with endless possibilities wasn’t a fun thing. Anxiety tightened the space in your chest and your throat was constricted with worry. You stopped a few steps in front of the soldier who towered over you and said nothing as his eyes trailed over your body. Once upon a time you would have blushed and shifted awkwardly where you stood but now you stand still and stare straight at the wall behind the soldier to avoid eye contact. The mic on his shoulder beeps and he holds out a finger to you. You don’t respond and continue to stare straight ahead. He responds to the German voice in his native language rapidly and you fiddle with your hands behind your back. You could feel the tension rising around the two of you and it wasn’t good. His eyes had begun to harden more, and his posture grew rigid. His eyes darted around the dirt filled courtyard until he turned around and stared at a man. He had been beat up. On his eye was a purplish hue with hints of green. You saw a small limp in his walk as you turned your head in his direction. He stopped and leaned against the fence with his arms crossed a pair of tags dangling around his neck. The green Henley he wore was matted and had spatters of dried blood. His pants hung off his body, still fitting but with tears. Looking from the outside in he looked just as bad as every other prisoner of war. He had an unreadable expression as he surveyed his surroundings. You caught a small calculating look in his eyes as he scanned people that walked by. His eyes caught yours and your breath caught in your throat. He didn’t just stare at you from afar. He seemed to bare your soul out in front of everyone to see. His gaze was intense, and a hint of curiosity was in his dark eyes. The soldier beside you muttered something into his radio and your gaze snapped away from the handsome stranger and you turned back at attention. You couldn’t get the image of him out of your mind even as the soldier gave you your new group to follow to your cells. Everyone was given a number when they were placed in the camp. Each cell was alphabetized and most of the time people didn’t even pay attention to them. They did it to give themselves a feel of control. The only one you didn’t follow. You didn’t say anything back to him and when he dismissed you, you promptly walked back to your spot. You didn’t want to turn your head in the direction of the stranger you knew was walking over to you. You wanted to disappear, and you knew the moment he talked to you your tough exterior would break. There was something different about the way his head was held high and his shoulders never slumped. You could practically feel his confidence from across the courtyard and out of your peripheral vision. You slid down the fence with a sigh as you put your head in your knees. You took a few breaths to keep yourself calm as a pair of shoes came into view. They were brown and matted and looked like they’d seen better days.

“You okay?” a voice followed. It was low and soft, but it sent shivers down your spine. You slowly raised your eyes up the body that was wearing them, and your eyes widened in surprise where the man from before stood in front of you. He’s much taller than you initially realized and his eyes a deeper brown. He stares down at you with worry and you just stared at him not knowing what to do. He was around your age and it was rare you found anyone your age and that spoke a language you could speak. Sure, there were people who spoke your language and had tried to talk to you. Soon enough they stopped coming around because staying in a group too long would strike fearing the people because they wouldn’t want the Germans thinking new company meant rebellion. He moved to your side and carefully slid down the steel fence. You stared ahead at the people who stood in the middle of the courtyard.

“So, you people watch.” The stranger says motioning to the people in front of you both. You nod without looking at him keeping a close eye on the people in front of you. Something felt wrong about the gathering. It wasn’t anything good. Someone was shoved across into another person and you heard the stranger suck in a breath. He felt the sudden shift too and he pointed a finger towards a short man in broken glasses. His eyes flipped from each side of the courtyard where the two soldiers stood. His hands were clasped together, and his feet were headed in the direction of the crowd. You nudged your elbow into your newfound companions’ arm tilting your chin up in the direction of the people. The air felt stiff in the courtyard more than normal as the crowd began to step into a circle the short man now joining them. The soldiers seemed to notice it too because their gazes were hardened, and their guns were pointed. Your heart began to pound as you knew what was coming next. It haunted you every night ever since you had seen it the day you’d been kidnapped and taken to this camp. The images of Ciera’s body falling to the ground flashes through your vision and you shake your head, feeling your heart squeeze. The screams of her siblings were in the wind you closed your eyes tight and took in a deep breath. They were screaming out orders in German, but the group paid them no mind. You couldn’t breathe. Your hands rubbed against your rugged jeans completely lost to your nightmares that were coming to life. You opened your eyes slowly and looked around to see if anyone else was witnessing what was going down. A few other small groups of people watched from afar with dead eyes, but none made a move to assist. Your eyes were locked on the German soldier directly across from you that was walking towards the group. With each footstep your breathing became faster and your mind screamed for them to heed the warnings the Germans were giving. The group was large and growing by the minute which in the eyes of your captors was a bigger threat. The German nudged one of the people in the group with his gun and what happened next you had never expected. The stringy thin man with blood hair who had been poked spun around and stabbed the soldier in the neck with a foreign object and someone screamed. His hands went to his throat and he dropped his gun. The man dove for it as the soldier fell slowly bleeding out on the concrete. Everything was chaos as the gun dropped and a single bullet escaped from its chamber. The bullet flew across the courtyard and your eyes flew with it watching it impale a single child.

“No!” you screamed bolting up from your place by the fence. The soldiers burst into action firing down anyone who had been in the huge crowd. Everyone went running towards the inside of the prison, trying to avoid the bullets. It was pure chaos as people from everywhere were getting shot as they tried to escape the rage of the soldiers. There were screams of all different languages and you heard the cry of the mother above all. Her cries for her baby filled your ears as you raced across the courtyard toward the downed child. The man followed you close behind, and you paid him no mind as you shoved through the on rush of people. People were getting into meaningless fights as they tried to get away. A man stops in front of you making a grab for your waist. A hand presses against your chest shoving you back as the stranger jumps in front of you. He throws a hard punch at the man who’d made an attempt touch and he gets knocked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and started running again. The mother’s screams in French guided you through the crowd. You felt your foot hit something before you went flying. Your hands moved out in front of you to stop the fall by instinct and on impact you hissed in pain. You had landed hard on your free hand but was yanked back up just as quickly.

“We have to go.” The man from before whispered in your ear.

“The child needs help.” You whispered back and he didn’t say a word back as he supported you on the remaining distance. The child lay on the ground holding his mother’s hand as she screamed for help. The brown-haired man set you on the floor beside the child and you immediately began ripping your jacket off your arms. You ripped the sleeves off the jacket and used the back to apply pressure to the wound. The single bullet hole was small but on the size of the boy was enough to cause a lot of damage. You quickly felt it become wet with blood and pressed down a little harder as the boy cried out in pain.

“Mon garçon, s'il vous plaît, sauvez mon garçon.”(My boy, Please save my boy) She sobbed as her eyes covered her face. Her hands were covered in his blood and your mind flashed with the memory of your own hands covered in Tommy and Cassandra’s blood. You ignored her cries but that didn’t stop you from helping her. You kept a steady push on his leg to slow the bleeding. After a few checks you eyed the wound and you couldn’t help the feel of triumph that flowed through your heart. The slow of bleeding meant you could check the wound for any other injuries it could have caused. You ripped open his pant leg and wiped the blood away to get a good look at the wound. This wasn’t the first time you’d be a medic and it wouldn’t be the last. Your father had gotten plenty of hunting wounds and you had been the one to take care of them. His leg only held one bullet hole, but his leg was so skinny it could fit in the palm of your hand. Your heart ached that this would be the childhood he remembered and not one filled with days of running in a field with his mother or being in school with his friends. He was one of the lucky ones you had to remind yourself. He was alive and you were determined to keep him that way. Your hands moved with remarkable speed as you lifted the child’s leg and looked for the exit wound of the bullet. A small hole was in the back of his leg and you wiped it clear of blood. You lifted the sleeve from earlier to your teeth and made a big enough tear that you could rip it with your bare hands. The long piece of clothing dangled between your fingertips as you examined the length. From the way the threading looked it wouldn’t hold for long, so you’d have to find a more permanent solution. But that was later and the thin cloth would do good for now.

“How can I help?” The man whispered in your ear again as your mind whirled with adrenaline. Your instincts in healing were helping you move through the steps you’d done so many times before with ease, but you couldn’t help the storm brewing in your feelings. You were enraged, scared, and so many other feelings all at once. You had gotten lost in the moment as you rushed to save the boy that lay before you. People were still running inside, and the screams had begun to slow. The courtyard was filled with sobs of families returning to their loved one’s bodies that lay dead on the floor. The blood on the ground would haunt them for the rest of their lives as the bodies were carried away by the ‘healthy’ prisoners.

“Lift his leg carefully. I need to make a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.” You said softly showing him the places to place his hands. He placed his above and below the wound just as you’d asked and lifted slowly. The boy screamed in pain and the mother began to reach her hands out to stop you. You glared at her, but she ignored your attempts to stop her from distracting you. She was screaming at you in French, begging you to stop hurting her boy. You ignored her cries and curses and continued to work. Her hands were gripping yours now as she tightened them around your wrists, and you struggled to tie the knot.

“Si vous ne retirez pas vos mains, votre fils mourra!” (if you don’t pull your hands away your son will die) you snap back at her in French and her nails stop digging into your skin. She pulls away quickly but doesn’t move her eyes away from your face. You sigh in frustration as you tighten the knot around the boy’s leg. You can hear the boy crying for his maman and she’s trying to calm him but it’s no use. You grab the jacket and place it over the boys wound again and apply pressure. The mother is sobbing as she holds her sons face and you watch knowing that you can only help minimally. You motion for the man to lower his leg softly and he does. He watches you carefully as you wrap the torn jacket around his leg and tie it again in the back. The bleeding has slowed to minimal trickle, but you’ll have to find something to clean the wound to keep away infection. You sigh in relief collapsing on the back of your heels as the woman steps away from her boy and walks over to you. She offers a hand over to you and you stare at it not sure what to do. She smiles weakly and shakes her hand again. You realize she’s trying to get you to stand up and you take it willingly. She helps you stand up and as soon as you’ve got on your feet, she pulls you into a hug.

“You…help…. me Henry.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls away. There’s a new look in her eyes as she apologizes for hurting you in French. She pulls your wrists to her mouth and places small kisses over the crescent moon shaped marks. Her fingers run over them in a silent guilt and you pull away and give her a small smile. Her hand brushes your cheek leaving a trail of blood, but her eyes are locked on yours. She leans in placing a kiss on your cheek before releasing you from her embrace. She quiets quickly once you tell her that it’s alright and that you have something to tell her. You start to give her basic instructions that will keep her son alive. How to clean the wound and tell her the signs of infection. Her hands grip onto her fingers, and her eyes are eager to make sure she doesn’t miss a word. You tell her your cell keep so that if she may ever need your assistance, she can send someone. The man who helped you stands beside you as you give her these instructions nodding as you list off everything. Once you trust that she knows everything you bid her goodbye and tell her to stay safe. She doesn’t respond as she looks away from you down to her son whose hand is out reached for her. She rushes to her knees and grabs his hand and doesn’t give you another glance. You know she won’t leave him alone for a minute. The fear of losing her family wasn’t a good one and it had scarred her heart forever just as it did to you months ago. She would hold on tight to his hands and watch for any signs of sickness. She would not sleep through the night but would tell her boy that she did. She’d do anything to protect her last light in the dark world. Your eyes travel from their joined hands to the boys’ face. It’s pale, most likely from the blood loss but he smiles at you. He opens his mouth to say something, and just as quick as it opens it closes as a grimace of pain flashes over his face. You shake your head giving him a weak smile. You kneel beside his head and place a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead and murmur a good-bye. You give the mother and son a small wave before standing once more and turning on your heel to walk away. Your tail follows you as you make your rounds around the courtyard. People cry out to the two of you as you try your best to help anyone and everyone. Most people have died by the time you reach them, and you close their eyes for the dead to mourn. Some don’t accept that their loved one is dead and continue to scream their fury at your insistence. One man almost attacks you because he refuses to believe his wife was killed and the stranger has to stop him. Tears stream down your cheeks at the sight of each body that lies on the floor. There was so much blood on the court now that it was rare you saw an old patch that was dried. It runs underneath your shoes and covers each piece of cement with ease. It soaks the clothes of the people lying beside their families and friends crying their hearts out to someone who is no longer there. Their pain has become apart of you and you can feel the shock of it numb you by the time you reach the last patient. Your tears have dried up and your hands are covered in so much blood that pieces flake off when the wind blows through the courtyard. You stand beside the teenage girl that holds her arm limp as her companion stands nearby attempting to talk to you in German. You attempt to converse with him in French the only language you’d been able to learn in your months of imprisonment but it’s no use as he doesn’t understand you. The girl cries softly as you touch her arm trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Was ist mit ihr passiert?” (What happened to her?) your partner says in German earning a glance from the boy. He speaks faster now the urgency in his hand motions clear. You can’t help but watch in awe as the man who has been helping this whole time stays remarkably calm. He nods and continues to ask him questions and gives him responses without hesitation. He doesn’t interrupt when it becomes clear that the boy is in full out panic mode. You place your hand on the girls’ shoulder and she flinches away before you give her a small smile. She stared at you with a suspicious glare in her eyes, but you tapped your eyes and then pointed to her shoulder in hopes that she would understand. Her eyes are wide with understanding and she leans in closer to you. You press your fingertip towards the top of her shoulder, and you feel her flinch. Doing this a few more times as you examine her shoulder you realize it doesn’t look like the other. It’s bent at an odd angle and you curse yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Her shoulder is dislocated presumably from being trampled in the panic. I know how to put it back in place, but it’ll be a two person job so I’ll need your help...” you trail off not knowing your assistants name. He glances over his shoulder giving you a smile makes you look down at your hands tat have begun to fidget.

“Call me Bucky.” He winks but you can tell he immediately regrets it because he turns away and starts muttering something under his breath. You catch a small huff of frustration that he cuts off quickly with ‘idiot’ following in English. You chuckle a little and his eyes brighten at your show of emotion towards him. Besides the subtle nudges of worry from before the attack, it was the only one you’d shown. His whole demeanor changed then, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the sudden beam of light. He was trying to hide his ear to ear smile as he shifted in place. You shake your head slightly and notice the two people that had been forgotten for a short moment. The man from before is quiet now as the girl talks to him in a soft voice. You motion Bucky over, and he leans down to your level.

“She needs to lie on her back. I’m going to pull it back into place.” Bucky gives you a single nod and begins talking to her in German. She stares at him in confusion but then as he explains it even more, she begins to nod her head in understanding reaching out to her boyfriend for assistance. He grabs her lifted hand and Bucky grabs her waist. Her boyfriend kneels beside her and the two exchange soft words that you don’t attempt to hear. Yes, there were things worse than what she was going through but what you were about to do wasn’t about to be as painless as she’d think. Besides the love that you could see when they looked at each other felt like you were intruding every time they looked at each other. When both men have settled, they both slowly lay her down onto her back, but your eyes don’t miss the flinch she gives once Bucky goes near her and her partner has stepped away. You slightly nudge Bucky out of the way and lightly grab her arm. You can see the gratitude in her eyes, and she tries to grab your hand most likely to thank you in the only way she knew how. You gave her a small nod and remained silent because somethings were better left unsaid. As you go through the steps you tell Bucky what you’re doing and in turn he translates. She doesn’t take her eyes off her partner the entire way as you begin to move her. Her arm is causing her a lot of pain, so your touches are featherlight. She is squeezing his hand and you take a lot of breaks to offer her some relief. Once her arm is outstretched towards you, you place your foot underneath where her shoulder is. You take a deep breath and without warning pull her arm at the same time as you push into her side. A loud pop sounds from her arm and you immediately stop pulling on her arm and let it sit on your lap. A blood curdling scream leaves her mouth and she begins to sob in pain. You can see her body shake as her free hand covers the tears that stream down her face. The three of you aren’t the only ones that heard her of course and a German soldier runs over to you all and starts yelling commands that you don’t understand. The girls companion starts responding to him much quieter than before most likely being careful with what he says. Even with the man explaining the soldier still has his eyes locked on you with a hatred you’d never seen before. It’s as if the soldier doesn’t care that you helped her and that she’d be better off in pain. You glare right back at him without a second thought before he turns his gaze away. He doesn’t respond to the boy before walking back to his post near the corner a few feet away from you. You let a breath you didn’t know you were holding in as he leaves the four of you alone on the courtyard again. You look down at the blonde girl who lies with her hair matted in blood from the concrete. She looks at you with a blank expression on her face that soon turns into gratitude. It’s not the first you’ve gotten but something about the way she put her trust in you makes your heart jump for joy. She lifts her arm into the air slowly but gives you a thumbs up, which in turn makes you laugh a little. She grins at you as you return her thumbs up right back and she looks away reaching out to her lover. He grabs her hands quickly and helps her to her feet. It’s a slow process as she slowly tries to get a handle on her pain tolerance, but eventually she stands up. She holds onto his hands to balance herself and gave her shoulder a roll. She let out a soft laugh in triumph and glanced over to where you and Bucky stood. Her eyes warm with happiness that would only last in the moment but were well deserved. She directed her eyes to Bucky and gave him a small smile as she spoke to him in German. You took the chance to finally look at the man who’d introduced himself to you. Here he was in the middle of a war willing to trust you and take care of all these people and be your assistant and he didn’t even know your name. You could tell by the hard built of his shoulders and the way his jaw tensed was because he was strong. Not in a physical way but in

a mental was as well. He could be one to give support and be just as willing to take it away. He was strong but not with many walls. He was determined but not without conscious. He was a good man. A handsome one at that you think before turning away and blushing. Here this man was helping you as a translator and you were thinking about how strong and physically built he was. You shake your head biting on your bottom lip to avoid the smile that wants to appear on your face.

“What have I got something on my face?” he jokes placing his bloody hands to his mouth. You shake your head but can’t help the small laugh that leaves your mouth. Even as a good guy who’d helped you save 20 people who were either bleeding or needed something fixing, he was a dork. The couple gives you a wave before walking off the courtyard towards the yelling Germans. It was time to go to your designated area. The cell of which you’d have to stay in until mealtime which would be in about an hour. As if on cue your stomach growls extremely loud and you place a hand over it. Usually you could hold your hunger over with some water, but it didn’t seem like there would be anything clean for a little while. The usual stream that came out of a hose was used to clean the victims’ blood away. You turned towards the hose where it had only on clean spot on the concrete. Today had been horrible and you knew there would be more days just like this to come. You still felt the ache for the people you couldn’t save and how their blood was still on your hands. You looked down at the floor and your eyes connected with the blood that covered your shoes. You felt the sudden urge to rinse it off and clean them with bleach, but you knew they would never truly leave. The stains would wash off physically, but it would stay with you forever and trap you in its horrors.

“Don’t let it scar you more than it already will.” He whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength for words as the day’s exhaustion hit you. You felt your knees buckle and Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist quickly, keeping you up. All the adrenaline was dying out and you could barely keep your eyes open as he attempted to have you walk. You couldn’t though and it made your feet hurt 10 times more. You groaned and forced him to stop for a minute. You were blinking rapidly as your vision faded in and out.

“I got you.” He murmured placing an arm under your knees and swooping you into the air. His arms pulled you closer to his chest and you placed a hand on your stomach. You wanted to say thank you, but the words wouldn’t come. You were burnt out of all your energy and your eyes lazily rolled over the man who was walking you across the courtyard. He looked straight ahead, and his gaze sharpened at the people who passed by. It was clear he didn’t trust the people around you. It wasn’t something anyone should ever give out willingly but the thought that he had given you such a fragile thing made your mind whirl with possibilities. You kept staring at him in wonder and you weren’t sure if it was from the lack of food and water, but you felt a sort of friendship growing with Bucky. He made you feel safe and he hadn’t abandoned you as you fell but instead, he’d picked you up. He’d let you work and hadn’t tried to take over either. Your hand gravitated towards his cheek and you held it there. Something about the action felt right and it comforted you. From what you saw it had the same effect on him. He looked down at you with a sincerity in his eyes and a small smile formed on his lips. It warmed your heart that you were able to get that reaction from him after such a long day and you couldn’t stop the smile you returned. He looked up and his gaze sharpened once more but there was something else displayed across his face. It was more lie… astonishment. You turned your head in confusion to see what had made him look such a way and you let out a small gasp. The area around the only source of water wasn’t crowded like it had been when you’d glanced at it. The people had made two lines directly to the water hose. You recognized these people as the ones you’d helped. Men and women who’d lost their loved ones and had found some broken but ready to be helped had stepped aside so that you could get some water.

“No.” you croaked nudging Bucky. You needed them to know you weren’t any special. You weren’t some savior. You’d been able to save them, but you couldn’t save your best friend and her siblings. That their ghosts still haunted you in the depths of the night. You began to squirm in his arms your energy suddenly making its way back into your body. He glanced down at you as you struggled to get down. He lowered your legs and planted them on the floor without a word, but his arm didn’t leave your waist. You were glad because if it weren’t for the support you were sure to fall. You pointed to the hose and Bucky nodded and began walking the two of you towards it. The area was clear as the people watched you from the sides. You could feel your terror rising as you looked to the guards that watched from afar. Your heart was beginning to pound with anxiety. You didn’t want another shoot out. Too many people had died already, and you wouldn’t let any more die. You urged Bucky forward and soon you reached the front to where the boy, Henry stands as his mother washes his wound. He looks up at you and gives you a small wave and begins tapping his mother. She looks up from her action with a look of annoyance, but it vanishes the minute she notices you. Her gaze softens and she smiles urging you forward. You kneeled beside them and murmured a silent hello as Henry proudly held back the torn-up pant leg. He was telling his maman in French about how he would be a strong boy and protect them both from harm. She said nothing but only let a smile and a few laughs through her tough exterior as she let you inspect the wound. There never was a lot of talking in the prison except for the quiet whispers between the terrified families. People weren’t the chatty types when they’d be kidnapped out of their homes and forced away from their families. You shook your head as images of Jews being thrown out into the street and onto a bus in your hometown flashes across your mind. Just like you couldn’t save Ciera and her siblings you couldn’t even save them. But you could save these people. Some part of you hoped that you could help push the everlasting guilt away, but you knew you would always feel that pain. So, you internalized it and turned to the wound on the boys’ leg again. The flesh surrounding the wound looked clean which was already a very good sign. You checked along his leg for any red lines that would travel up. It was a common sign of blood poisoning but seeing as he had none you knew he would be alright for the time being. If there were any of the blood red veins trailing along his pale skin, it would be a sign of infection and with no antibiotics would be the death of him. She pulls the pant leg away from the boy at your request because he dances away from your touch. He giggles because your touch is warm against his cold skin and you smile at her and her boy. Giving her the good news is probably a moment you’ll never forget as she wraps her arm around her son tightly. You can tell from the way she’s beaming at being able to stay with her son for more time means that in some way they’ll get through this together. It makes your heart jump for joy and you can’t help but let the happiness consume you. The mother hands her son to Bucky and he kneels on a rock nearby holding the child. At one point while the mother washes a wound you catch Bucky letting the boy squeeze his cheeks and pull at them every which way. He doesn’t let this stop him from tickling the boy and the sight is so pure that you’re smiling for the rest of the time. More and more patients leave to go towards their cells after you give them direct instructions. They all come to the water and you and the mother wash out their wounds and they walk away. It’s a process that soon you start to do without realizing how many people you’ve helped. Some were far worse than her son with multiple wounds that fill with blood at the touch. It takes a lot to break a person and seeing multiple scrapes and bullet wounds would make anyone sick. After about the 15th person she ran away to throw

up because of the smell of cooking flesh from the sun above. Bucky immediately took her place in helping you clean the wounds. You looked over at the woman in concern but found her son rubbing her back as they sat on the concrete holding each other. You felt for her because this scenario was nothing good or that pleasing to see. Knowing all these people were hurting and that the men who guarded you all watched from afar and refused to help was making you feel 20 shades of green. You wanted to just react at them. To hurt the people who were hurting all these innocents. You despised them and with each wound that began receiving care by your hands the hatred began growing bigger and bigger.

“Neutralize your expression. Showing you’re angry will upset the Nazis even more.” Bucky’s hushed voice interrupted your thoughts. You lift your eyes to meet his as you turn the faucet off and dab at the patient’s jacket to dry his wound. The confusion you felt must have been visible on your face because his eyebrows raise as his head jerks to his right. Your eyes slowly follow the trail to where a German soldier stands with his gun in his hands. His eyes stare directly at your actions as if you were a criminal about to attack.

“They’ve been watching the entire time. Through the cameras in the corners. They have orders to let us be but to shoot if they see anything wrong.” You immediately drop your expression and place a blank look on your face. Bucky’s nod confirms that your expression is fine and you both help the man who’d been stabbed on the right side of his chest. The panic of knowing you were being watched never quite faded so you dived deeper into doing whatever you could for the people’s wounds. He’d been lucky for the knife to not puncture his lung because if that had happened his lungs would have filled with blood and he would end up choking on his own blood. If that had been the case, there would have been nothing for you to do at least long term. You were slowly coming to realize that all those trips spent in the library studying the multiple medical books were coming to work out in your favor. Bucky calls out the information in which you’ve told him to tell the girl who accompanies the man. She nods vigorously before grabbing his hand and helping him walk over to the opening that leads to the cells where you all would be holed up. The prison inside of the prison. How ironic. You call out for the next person to step forward but are met with silence. You look to the previous line to be met with open space.

“Come here.” He urges. He’s kneeling in front of you from where you sit on the high-rise rock. You ignore the outreach of his bloody hand and you walk around him. He sighs as you reach down to the faucet. The cold water greets your fingertips and you don’t move away from it. Bucky taps your shoulder and you turn around to see what he needs. He’s staring at you like you’re the smallest child in the playground and that if you don’t listen, he’ll throw you in time out. He points to his raised knee and you scoff shaking your head.

“Either you do it willingly or I force you.” You shake your head again and he groans throwing his head back in mock pain. You giggle and lean forward to reach the faucet again but you’re swiped off your feet as hands grip your waist tightly. He sits you on his lap and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from falling. You whip your head around to glare at him because you’re certain he’s a mad man and he grins leaning towards the faucet. You let out a squeal and you grip his knees as he shifts back on the rock sitting you square between his legs. You know you look beyond pissed because he avoids your eyes. He’s still grinning though at your reaction as his hands release your waist and reach towards the faucet. You move your hands away quickly and lean forward with him, eager to get the remaining blood off your skin. Bucky turns the faucet to the left and water starts spilling from it. He tuts when your hands almost touch the water and he grabs your wrists. The interaction makes your skin tingle and interlocks your fingers with his. In that moment you feel the firs spread throughout your body. Everywhere he touches you sends a different burn straight to your heart. His chest presses against your back as he washes the blood off both of your hands. When he breathes you can feel it hit your ear and it makes the hair on your skin rise. His hands caress yours as they wash 30 or more people’s blood off. His fingers slide into between yours with ease that you watch in awe as your hands become yours again. Except with his hands on yours you aren’t exactly sure where he begins and where you stop. Funny thing is, you don’t ever want to figure it out. His fingers brush over yours and they move away too soon. Before you can grasp what you’re doing you grab his hands and start the same movements. You slide your fingers against his long ones and watch as they become his just as yours were yours. You hear Bucky’s breathing grow uneven and you look over your shoulder to see what’s wrong. His eyes immediately lock on yours and you can see something that you’d never seen on his face before. You can’t read it, but you know it’s something he tries to hide because his face becomes black once more and his hands move away from yours. You gasp softly at the loss of contact and swallow the complaint that tries to force its way out. The moment has disappeared, and you can feel the slight tinge of embarrassment floating its way through your senses. You wipe your hands on your pants and the sight of you and Bucky’s hands together burns itself into your mind. You know it shouldn’t be there, but your heart holds it close and locks it away for safe keeping.

“You ready?” he whispers. His hand lays on your stomach which does a flop at the sight of it and you nod not sure if you could even get through a full sentence without stuttering. You stand up and take a step away from him. You were trying to get a grasp on your emotions but the only thing you could focus on was how his scent no longer surrounded you. Your legs wobble as you try to walk but your knees give out. Bucky grabs your hand and pulls it around his neck.

“I don’t think I can walk.” You whisper. He doesn’t respond at first but you can tell he’s debating what to do.

“Hop on my back. I’ll carry you.” You nod slowly as you walk behind him and grab onto his shoulders. His hands wrap around your thighs and he pushes you up in the air. You jump and let your legs fall around his waist and let your arms hang loose over his shoulders. His figure shakes a little as he tries to steady you and start his long walk towards the open steel doors. You place your chin on his shoulder and let out a small sigh.

“My knight in shining armor.” You tease half heartedly and he laughs. The sound warms your bones more than anything else could and you don’t catch the small smile that spreads across his face as he starts walking towards the yelling Germans. It’s time for everyone to go back to their cells and if told once more there would be consequences. Your arms become heavy and feel like blobs of jello as they swing. You can feel yourself absentmindly snuggling into the warmth of the man carrying you, but it doesn’t register as your senses begin shutting down. You blink a few times as you stared down at the dog tags that swung on top of the green Henley that adorned Bucky’s chest. The faint sunlight disappears as he enters the prisoner compound and the room becomes dark. You lift your head up as shouts erupt around you. You catch people clapping and you have the urge to tell them to stop. Drawing attention of the soldiers wasn’t a good idea because they had just witnessed what happens when you cause a ruckus. You bury your head back into Bucky’s neck as you silently wish for the cries of joy to stop. Despite all the good you’d done you still couldn’t get over all the good you could have done so many years ago. Bucky senses your discomfort and starts to walk a little faster than before.

“Get some rest. You look like you could use it.” He says softly as a metal door creaks and it gets held open for the two of you. You nod slowly feeling your eyes shut again. You listen to him this time and let the exhaustion finally take over your body.

Tagging some peeps~@randomfangirl82 @stucky-my-ship @jules-1999 @starkssnarks @dallaswinstonswife1109@notsosecretspy @kyn-lyn-blog @alltoowell-taylorsversion@creecree-4-life

[anxiousstark]

All that’s left

KO-FI | BIG MASTERLIST | 

I normally only read related to Chris Evans and his characters, but here we are.

Word count: 1909

Warnings: Mentions of  injuries, blood, swearing (always), death, etc.

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

All the things you went through could not be compared to the last battle of your life, the one where to save an entire world, numerous people you deeply loved had gradually lost theirs.

It was a terrifying feeling, observing the bright light in their eyes fade away while their eyelids drooped until there was no more energy to keep them open. The guttural voices were stuck in your head as their mouths opened and closed several times. The way they attempted to swallow, believing that the action would let them say their last words. Some got to announce their latest wishes or goodbyes, others weren't so fortunate, gagging on their blood.

Everyone knew that this last war would bring grief, guilt and trauma. And even though everyone knew that some people would inevitably be left behind, they also deeply hoped for them to survive. But perhaps, it was too much to ask for the universe or whoever was up there.

Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow. She was probably one of those people you couldn't help but end up loving like an older sister. She tried to maintain that witty, cold facade to avoid people from deceiving her. Nevertheless, you always thought that she didn't need to maintain an image. Everyone knew how great Natasha Romanoff was.

Deep inside, every one of the Avengers knew that they would lose her. Nat had been a woman with a tough childhood and life. She was someone who believed and claimed not to have a family. Of course, all of this, before she became part of the Avengers. A group of people who would have given their lives for her. However, she was the one who gave up her life.

You sometimes glimpsed at Clint when he was in the compound, staring at the space Nathasa always preferred. It was her seat, her place. An empty one.

You had cried. You had mourned when Clint had come back, swearing he had tried to save her. You knew he had. Everyone knew. But they also knew how Natasha's mind worked. They knew she would sacrifice herself for Clint, one of the closest Avengers to her, and the one who had a wife and children waiting at home.

Notwithstanding, there was a big pain in your heart. You hoped that she felt loved, that she knew that every one of the Avengers had lost a piece of soul and brightness as soon as they understood she was never coming back.

That night, it was Steve Rogers who held you tightly even if his heart was as broken as yours, or even more. His fingers had intertwined with the locks of your hair as he shushed you while his body rocked your own one. If only that was the only sadness you would have to go through.

Not long after Natasha passed away, Tony Stark had sacrificed his life for those he loved. At that time, everything was over. The war with Thanos was over. But, another war invaded everyone. The internal war of dealing with the death of Tony Stark.

How unfair, right? The joker, the one who always tried his best to cheer others up even if it was with sarcastic comments. The one who seemed the brightest was leaving certain darkness in everyone's hearts.

You never expected to see Tony sitting down against ruins as he tried to say his last words to the woman of his life. God, Morgan was just a child and she was back home, of course. Pepper would have to tell the little girl that her dad wouldn't be coming back. Ever.

Tony fought, he fought to stay in this world for a couple of minutes more. He had expressed his everlasting love to Pepper, telling her to remind Morgan of how much he loved her and how she was his salvation. Tony had hugged Peter, repeating over and over again that he believed in him. He was proud of the teenager. Parker would just cry while nodding his head. And then, Tony peeped at you. He wanted to offer you a smile, but the pain was too much for that. The Tony Stark legacy was yours too, and he had pleaded for you to teach Morgan everything you knew. Everything he had taught you.

And as soon as the last flick of life left his eyes, everyone was kneeling on the ground. Steve was beside you, clutching your hand tightly as you sobbed.

Tony Stark was the one who rescued you a couple of years ago. You were someone lost in life. Too young to have all of those horrible thoughts invading your mind. He had just decided to take you in and show you all the potential you had. That's when you started working alongside Tony and Bruce, after learning everything from them.

Before his funeral, you sat next to Pepper and Morgan as Tony had prepared a hologram. You had chuckled because Tony had to leave in a big way.

He looked so real. He looked as if he was sitting down on that chair. And sometimes, it seemed like he could actually look at all of you. Of course, all of this was just what it looked like.

"Then again, that's the hero gig, right?" His eyes seemed to shift from Pepper to you. "Part of the journey is the end." You felt Morgan getting closer to your body. "What am I even tripping for?" Your hand softly rested on her back as Tony got up from his seat. "Everything is gonna work out," He was standing in front of the three of you. "Exactly like it's supposed to." His eyes seemed to find the ones of the little girl. "I love you 3,000." Then, he just vanished, once again.

The day of the funeral was horrible, everyone cried because Tony Stark was deeply loved. Because everything that happened was proof that Tony Stark had a heart.

However, if we talked about the present, your heart ached as much as your legs. Your heart throbbed because Steve had left a letter on your door, letting you know that he was going to return the stones to the same moment where he got them. Steve was leaving. Perhaps not to come back.

And your legs ached because you were running to the only place where you knew he could be right now. In the distance, you could recognise Bruce, Sam and Bucky. The Captain was getting on the platform, his suit changing from the usual one to red and white. "Steve!" You continued running, not thinking you will arrive on time. Steve made a gesture, begging Bruce to continue with the process. "Steve! Please!" Tears started running down your cheeks.

"Going Quantum," Bruce informed. "Three,"

"Steve, I swear to god I will kill you!" You tried to run faster, but your legs gave up as you fell to the ground. "Steve Rogers, I swear to god!" You screamed once again, getting up and ignoring the mud stuck to your cheeks due to your tears.

"Two..." Sam and Bucky looked between the both of you. The Falcon was pained to see you in that situation as much as Bucky. Both of them were your friends. And both of them had noticed the longing gazes you directed towards their other friend.

"STEVE!" You were now closer to Bruce, quickly stopping the machine. "Don't you dare to turn it on." Your finger accusingly pointed at Banner, who nodded, a little frightened of how angry you were.

"Y/N," A firm voice sounded. "I need to get back and put these stones where they bel-."

"Who are you trying to lie to?" Your voice cracked. "You are going back to the past and you will not return." You shook your head. "And that's not fair on Sam because he had started to like you and he considers you his friend now, right?" I glanced at Sam, who bit his lower lip and nodded. "That's not fair on Bucky! He has always been there for you and you are just going to leave him? You can't just leave him, Steve!" Bucky sighed, glancing at the floor. "We just lost a lot of people we profoundly loved. It is unfair that you make us go through that once again because-."

"Breathe." He interrupted me. "This isn't my place anymore."

You yelled, trying to get rid of some of the anger invading your body. "You, Steve Rogers, are the biggest liar ever!" He furrowed his eyebrows, sighing and letting you go on. "You gotta move on," You repeated those words. The words he had told a group of people who were trying to get through the losses of the blip. "You gotta move on. The world is in our hands. It's left to us, guys. And we gotta do something with it." You were now sobbing harder. "O-otherwise..."

"I'm sorry," He whispered. "But, this life is no longer for me, Y/N." He glanced at Bruce, then back at you. "I wish I didn't have to do this."

"Nothing is making you go back!" You cried. "You can return the stones then come back to us and-." You gasped. "Steve, I know I'm selfish for saying this but please, don't go back to her-."

"Y/N," His voice was firmer this time. "I have nothing to do here, okay? Believe me. Yes, I will have to leave you all, but that's a price I must pay. You knew I always felt like this was not my world. Everything was always too strange for me." He sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I love you all. Especially, you. I love you. But I'm not the one you deserve." Tears fell down his cheeks. "Take care."

Before you could say anything more, he disappeared. You glanced at Bruce, glaring at him for listening to Steve and then, you got on the platform, screaming with all your strength. "That's for me to decide, Steve Rogers! That's for me to decide!" You recovered as soon as possible, running towards Bruce after noticing that Steve wasn't back yet. "Bring him! Bring him back!" Bucky walked closer to you, resting a hand on your shoulder as you continued crying. "How long until he comes back?"

Sam glanced at the other two men, sighing. "He isn't coming back." He coughed. His voice cracking. "Steve isn't coming back."

"He believes he isn't apt for this world." Before you could answer, Bucky interrupted you. "I know, it sounds stupid. But he truly felt like that." He shuffled closer to you. "He didn't go back to Peggy. Believe me."

"Then why?"

"Because he believed he wasn't enough for you." Sam stepped forward. "We tried to let him know that he was. But he said that he was never able to be there for you as much as he wanted to." He was always there. "He went back to safety. To the world, he knew. A world without," He glanced around. "All of this."

"A world without me." There was no reason to justify his actions, even if you wanted to. "So... this is all that's left."

"Not all." Bucky placed a tiny box on your hand. "He would probably kill me if he knew I gave you this. But I think you deserve to know. You deserve to...just...open it."

A ring. There was a ring with both of your names. A wedding ring.

[blasphemous-tiefling]

I think part of the reason why there’s so much discord in the MCU fandom has something to do with the varying directors for TFA, The Avengers, Winter Soldier, AOU, Civil War, Infinity War, and Endgame. And really, the backbone of the issue is how the different directors and how the audience interprets Steve’s character. Strap in. Because this is a long rant on a topic that normal people really don’t care about.

Joe Johnston created a Steve Rogers that was eager, begging to go to war. I absolutely adored the line in AOU when Steve says, “What kind of monster would let a German scientist experiment on them to protect their country?” Because I feel that sums up Steve in TFA pretty well. He’s anti-bully. He wants to fight. But his whole life he’s been put down, stomped on. Steve repeatedly enlisting is both selfish and selfless. His conversation with Bucky in TFA is a great example of this. Steve says, “There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.” And Bucky says, “Right. Because you’ve got nothing to prove.” And that’s it. Yes, Steve wants to fight because he’s always been bullied and doesn’t want anyone else to feel that way. Yes, Steve wants to fight because he wants to defend his country. But also Steve wants to fight because no one has ever given him a chance. Steve wants to fight because he wants his life to mean something. Steve wants to die in battle because he thinks it’s honorable. He wants to prove himself. Steve wants it so desperately for both selfless and selfish reasons, which is why he was so willing to take the serum despite the fact that Erskine told him about past failures. There’s even a certain selfishness to his sacrifice at the end of TFA. Many stories that involve sacrifice ride the line of selfishness and selflessness. By sacrificing himself, you could argue Steve is taking “the easy way out.” He’s distraught over Bucky’s death. He’s won the battle he’s been fighting since getting the super soldier serum. By sacrificing himself, Steve can effectively end the troubles caused by the Tesseract and leave without dealing with the consequences of his sacrifice. This point is a bit of a stretch, and not something that I personally agree with, but the thought it there.

Joss Whedon takes that selflessness and turns it into irrefutable righteousness, and it’s disgusting. Steve has a few goofy lines in The Avengers and AOU that I’ll laugh at, but ultimately, everything he does seems so out of character for him. His constant nagging and arguing with Tony is so unnecessary and doesn’t build friendship. His desire to do everything S.H.I.E.L.D. tells him to do is completely incorrect because Steve went against the military and broke the 107th out of the Hydra facility without permission and repeatedly did whatever he wanted without asking. His incessant need to have all the Avengers do as he says is totalitarian and unbearable to watch. Truthfully, this is where I think people misunderstand Steve the most because not everyone watches every solo movie. The Avengers movies are the biggies that most people won’t miss. So general audiences only see this righteous, dictator Steve Rogers and that really pisses me off.

This is one of the only times you’ll hear me praise the Russos, so get ready- Thank goodness Winter Soldier and Civil War follow Joe Johnston’s characterization of Steve. They even dig into his selfishness and rebellious streak, which I adore. Steve isn’t one to just blindly follow orders. Hello? Does “not a perfect solider but a good man” ring any bells? Perfect soldiers follow orders. Good men fight for what’s right even when the world is telling them not to. That’s who Steve Rogers is. What I adore about Winter Soldier so much is that we see Steve attempting to be this perfect soldier, but it’s just not sitting well with him. Something is fishy and weird. He talks to Peggy about her life. She says her only regret is that Steve didn’t get to live his. Steve talks to Sam about possibly getting out of government work. Sam is that representation for Steve- having a hard time finding out why he’s really in it to begin with. The entire film is about Steve going against the government, military, and S.H.I.E.L.D. with both selfish and selfless desires. He knows he needs to do something because Hydra is growing in S.H.I.E.L.D. but he also doesn’t want anything to do with it anyway, so why not tear it all down? Once Bucky is revealed as the Winter Soldier, Steve puts his life on the line to try to get him back. It’s selfish really. When Steve takes off his helmet and drops his shield, he made the decision to die because he wasn’t gonna continue to live without Bucky. Despite the fact that Steve made friends with Natasha and Sam, he didn’t care. All that mattered to him in that moment was James Bucky Barnes. This is very reminiscent of TFA when Steve breaks Bucky out of the Hydra lab. As the world’s only successful super soldier, Steve could’ve been very valuable to the American government and military. He was even doing mild good by helping sell bonds. But that didn’t matter. His country and his military was no longer priority number one. When it comes to Steve Rogers, nothing and no one means more to him than Bucky. Steve and Sam’s conversation that I previously mentioned also parallels this. After Sam lost Riley, he didn’t want to be in the military anymore. He said he felt like he was up there just to watch, nothing he could do. This is a direct parallel to how Steve feels about Bucky.

Civil War, while a trash movie, sticks with Steve’s selfish yet selfless motivations. “What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us?” Not wanting to surrender his right to choose is Steve Rogers. He just put down S.H.I.E.L.D.- an organization that was giving him demands. Why would he sign his life away to the American government again? Corporations can be run by greed and corruption- something Steve doesn’t want the world to be full of but also something he doesn’t want his world to be ruled by. When Bucky is framed for killing King T’Chaka, Steve knows the Accords will bring Bucky in and possibly execute him. He can’t let that happen. And he asks Natasha not to get in his way because he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. He knows how dangerous Bucky can be, but he doesn’t want Bucky or anyone else getting hurt or in trouble due to this sticky Accords situation. Both selfish and selfless. I don’t even want to get into later in the film, but I guess I will. Guys, there’s no world, no universe, no place in time that Steve wouldn’t try to stop Zemo. Tony never even gave him the chance to explain himself. It was either, “Come with us or we fight.” Steve gathered that team together- not to fight Tony but to fight Zemo. It was never his intention to fight with Tony. He was just trying to stop Zemo. Now, when Tony learns about his parents’ death, anger is a valid emotion. Physically fighting and attacking Steve and Bucky to the point of death? Not valid or even remotely reasonable. It makes no sense as to why Tony would be that angry at Bucky- someone who was tortured and brainwashed to do what he did. Steve had his reasons for not telling Tony considering that when it comes to Steve Rogers, nothing and no one means more to him than Bucky. Of course, Steve was going to hide the truth from Tony in an effort to protect Tony, Bucky, and himself. Selfish yet selfless.

Infinity War gives us the glorious lines of “I’m not looking for forgiveness. And I’m way past asking permission. Earth just lost her best defender. So we’re here to fight. And if you wanna stand in our way, we’ll fight you too.” and “We don’t trade lives.” These lines beautifully sum up Steve’s rebelliousness and need to fight while also not risking others’ lives. He’ll always risk himself first. There’s not much to say about this film considering it’s mostly action and Steve shares the screen with just about every other superhero, so we’re not given a lot of time. But overall, the Russos kept that same Steve Rogers.

And then Endgame does a complete 180 and decides to serve us Joss Whedon’s Steve with a conservative, pro-military, unbelievably illogical twist. Steve’s obsession with Peggy in this film is so out of place. She would’ve died seven years prior in the MCU. Steve’s been living in the present with Natasha, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, and T’Challa. That was his family. He lost Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, and T’Challa in the Infinity War. It only makes sense that he would be fighting for them in Endgame. Yet he’s not. We’re beat over the head about how much he misses Peggy and it’s so unbelievably weird. Steve is never allowed to mourn Sam and Bucky specifically despite the fact that they were his number one companions. He never mentions them. Never has a touching reunion with Bucky. Barely has any reaction to Natasha’s death. It’s disgusting honestly. This is not “I will fight to my death for the people I love” Steve Rogers. And the ending is the most pathetic of all. There’s no world, no universe, no place in time that Steve would willingly go almost a hundred years away from Bucky and Sam, somewhere he wouldn’t fight for others. “Pretending you could live without a war.” I mean, come on. He’s Steven Grant Rogers. It’s disgusting to paint him as this man who would throw away his friendships and a world that is being bullied all for some girl he kissed once and barely knew. No. No, no. Not my Steve Rogers.

I give the directors a little too much crap. I’m fully aware that a whole team of people make these movies, but you can’t deny that Steve changes from movie to movie depending on the director. Endgame is the exception in which the directors were the same, yet they diverged completely from their original interpretation of the character. I’ve heard people say that it had to be an anti-gay agenda- that ending Steve’s story with Bucky would’ve been too gay even if they weren’t romantically involved, but I still think that’s pathetic. Honestly, I would’ve rather seen Steve die than have his character trashed and pooped on like this. From a narrative perspective, what happened in Endgame is not okay. Marvel Studios’ treatment towards “sideline” characters like Natasha, Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky- particularly in Infinity War and Endgame- is not okay. Yeah, I’m aware I get too heated over this fictional universe. But the characters are the only reason I stick around. The stories are lackluster for me. I’ve never been one to watch movies for action sequences. But I’ve always been in love with Steve Rogers as a character- complicatedly riding the line of selflessness and selfishness, dedicating himself wholeheartedly to a cause and to the people he loves. When in the end that character was completely scrapped and shredded in the garbage disposal like crust on bread or the skin of an apple, I’m gonna be angry for a long time.

[poormeowmeowcollector]

We would name our children Jackie and Wilson

Relationship: Loki/Female Reader (Hozier did the gender first, don't @ me)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mourning, mental health, alcohol.

Summary: Your relationship reminds you of a nice soft song. But things are not always so sweet.

Notes: this is part of a somewhat Collab with @lucywrites02, her part is done and can be found here, read it to soften the pain. I would say that I'm terribly sorry for the pain ahead, but I'm not. Meaning of the song can be found here, I used it for reference

Read On AO3

So tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes

Loki fights for a deep breath.

It's just your face, you idiot. What are you afraid of? This mean voice from the back of his head asks.

They manage to draw a shaky inhale and puff it out, finally opening his eyes and staring at the reflection.

But those hateful crimson eyes staring back is too much, even though they look at them behind tears.

"Maybe another day…" he sighs and wears the illusion again. But the bloodshot eyes stay, this time not because of the Jötunn form.

No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight

For how long will you hide from the monster you are? This same voice asks in the dead of the night.

Once again, it's not mistaken.

"I can't walk amongst mortals like this. This illusion helps me avoid some of the staring," they respond. It's a beautiful lie, Loki almost believes it.

Still, it will break down. Like everything does.

This argument stays and torments him for the rest of the night.

Soul deep in this swill with the most familiar of swine / For reasons wretched and divine

Stark had suggested another night out on a bar. Loki usually declines, but comes to this one.

Soon enough, everyone is drunk and happy. Alcohol from Midgard is like a beverage for Æsir, and Loki can barely get tipsy. But Loki still decides to drink.

This period had some very successful missions, and the avengers are celebrating it by drinking. Little do they know that Loki drinks for a whole more different reasons…

She blows out of nowhere, a roman candle of the wild

It's late. Loki's surely past the tipsy phase, but still has control. So, they just sit on a bar and watch the others have fun.

"Would you mind some company?" you yell from a part of the crowd. Loki tries not to flinch, loud sounds do no good at him.

Then they see you, all smiling and beaming like a firework, drink in hand as you walk closer and point at a stool beside him.

They have to admit, you look ravishing.

"You're free to sit, if you want to," he smiles back and nods at the seat. You grin and slide there, placing your drink in the bar and having your attention to them.

"Are you not afraid someone might drug the drink?" Loki winders, eyes on the cocktail.

"Sitting beside an Avenger is safe enough, don't you think? And it's rubbish anyways, I probably won't finish it,"

Midgard has different communication patterns, and Loki's inability to catch up in time has made their silver tongue rusty and useless. But you make a conversation with him out of nowhere, like it's the most easy thing.

Laughing her way through my feeble disguise/ And Lord, she found me just in time

A few days later after the night out, the sparks of happiness you casted on Loki's heart have died out. But Thor insists that being out of the four walls of their chambers will do good to him, and Loki gives in. They wear an illusion to hide the mess that he is in and join Thor on their afternoon walk around for some food, mostly.

During the hours long conversation, you didn't mention that you work for Stark, in the Tower. They smile and call your name the sparks igniting inside his heart once again. It gets stronger when you give them this glowing smile and walk closer.

"Brother, will you mind if I get stolen for a moment?" he turns to Thor.

"Have fun, brother," he smiles before greeting you and leaving.

"You know, there's a nice coffee shop with a big tea collection, what do you think?" you beam, knowing it's an offer Loki cannot resist.

It's not far away, and truly a sweet little place, crammed between the offices. You order your drinks and settle on a table nearby. You give Loki the chair with the view on the passers by, sitting so you can only see them and the wall behind him.

"You didn't say you work for Stark," they hum, taking a testing sip of the dandelion tea that caught his attention.

"That's cause I work for the Avengers, technically, not Stark. Mission support agent, Romanov brought me here," you shrug one shoulder. Loki can't hide a smile, they always had a soft spot for humble warriors, for they're so rare on Asgard.

"Odd, I don't remember you in any field," he mutters.

"I haven't gone on a mission with you. I find it insulting for a God to be supported by someone who learned how to tie their shoelaces at age 12," you laugh. Loki doesn't share the enthusiasm for the 'joke'.

"You'll be the best support, if you ask me," they smile, and change the subject. And then, you throw this damned question.

"So, how are you doing?" you trail off.

"Just fine," he scoffs. You see through it like they're the worst liar ever.

"I know we're somewhere public, but you are allowed to be honest," your eyes scan him.

He takes a deep breath and makes an illusion of you and them just talking. Then, he lifts his own.

Your face stays almost unreadable as the green glow reveals the mess of them. Expect for the eyes that speak of sympathy.

Underneath the table, you cup his right hand, your thumb petting it. "If you want to, we can go somewhere more private. Your call,"

"Only you can see this. Don't worry, I'm not making a fool out of you," they laugh without humour, voice almost breaking. You now squeeze the hand.

"You'll have to actively try to make a fool out of me, your highness. It's your boundaries I'm worried about," the playful tone leaves you as you speak.

You've barely done anything, but Loki is already determined to kill for you.

Cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done / I need to be youthfully felt 'cause, God, I never felt young

"Forget it, I'm not doing it. It's stupid!" he tries hard not to yell at you.

"But it's going to be fun! Come on, you can cast an illusion if you're embarrassed. Didn't you have fun as a teen?" You grin, pleading for them to come.

Little do you know that the last question feels like a knife in the guts.

"No," he whispers.

"Okay then. I'll be there with Sam, you can pop up if you change your mind," you sigh. It takes some minutes for them to realise what you just said.

"Allow me to rephrase it. No, I didn't have fun as a teen, I had to prepare myself for the throne I wouldn't take. And… this park will do nothing but remind me what I've lost. I'm sorry but I can't come nor change my mind," he fights against tears as he talks, your eyes on them. You walk closer and cup one cheek, letting them rest their head.

"Society says that you must have certain experiences at certain time frames. It's wrong, especially for someone who will live for as long as you. There's always time to replace things you've lost, the question if if you'll do it or not,"

Loki gazes at you and takes a deep breath, in, holding it, and out. Almost like he's smoking the air.

"Fine. But don't force me to stay if it's too much," they smile weakly, but it's genuine.

"Have I ever forced you?" you grin and place your forehead against his. "And anything critical to your physical health doesn't count,"

They laugh before nodding a no, a small kiss being blown in your nose.

Lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime / Me and my Isis growing black irises in the sunshine

Out of all the things Loki expected his fallen heart to do, daydreaming was last on the list.

They're a realist, always have been.

But the image of him and you in a nice stone castle in the middle of the woods is too perfect to resist. How you two would wake up and sleep together, have no one and nothing to make you feel anything but bliss. The two Monarchs in your little kingdom of two residents

Norns, they haven't even talked to you about these feelings. And he's already scheming his retirement with you.

How are you doing this to them?

Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside / We'd sit back and watch the world go by

"That's it, Laufeyson," he's glaring at the mirror, one finger pointing at the glass, "no more lies. Fuck those illusions and games and just say the damned words!"

They sigh and run their fingers through the hair, testing if the smell of smoke is still in there, after five sessions with the shower. He has noticed that you don't like the smell, when you keep some distance on his bad days. And stinking on a moment like this is the least they want.

"Alright… into the battlefield…" he conjures his weapon, a bouquet of black irises, your favourite flowers. They finally teleport themselves on the field, outside your door.

Goal of the mission: be vulnerable.

He rings the bell, fixing his already perfect posture before you open the door. This smile they know and love so much is on your lips.

"You didn't have to! Come in," you exhale, beaming as you make space for him to walk in.

They call your name, the tone making your smile drop. "I have to tell you something I've been hiding from you for a while…" he sighs.

You nod, the agent face on. A green shimmer makes the flowers rest in a vase on the coffee table, Loki's hands now free to pick on each other.

"I appreciate your friendship, more than you can ever imagine. You're the only person who has reached out to me like this for eons. But, my heart has started to yearn for more. I've fallen for you, hard. And I can't keep the illusion anymore," they recite, eyes scanning your unreadable face. You stay dead serious, making Loki's nerves eat him up.

"Took you long enough," you grin and bring them down to a kiss.

It's nice and warm and slow, one devouring the other while also offering the best you can. Then, a salty taste makes you break the contact and cup Loki's face.

"Love, why are you crying?" you whisper, wiping away the thin paths the tears have crossed. He hasn't even noticed he's been crying.

"You can't imagine how happy you make me… I love you," they whisper.

You barely have time to say anything before he pulls you into the tightest hug possible, tears streaming down to your shirt and those three words coming out of their lips again and again like a prayer.

Loki has no idea how many lifetimes he washed off within just one hug, but a weight they never noticed they carried was gone when you break the embrace and stare deep into his now puffy eyes.

"I love you too,"

She's gonna save me, call me baby / Run her hands through my hair

"I'm telling you, you have to be more careful in the missions. Yes, you are a God, but don't be so reckless," you groan as you rinse them with water and try to remove the blood and dirt from their hair.

Just the right amount of strikes, and he now can't lift his hands enough to wash his own hair. If you weren't so good at it, they would refuse to stoop so low.

"It was supposed to be abandoned. How would I know that it wasn't? I'm a God, not a prophet," he sighs, holding his sides. Even talking is making their scattered ribs pierce him… "And I did call you to save my arse, that's the exact opposite of recklessness,"

"If you say so. But what will I do if one day my baby comes home with something more than a wretched ribcage?" you laugh.

They try to answer but both the pain and the pleasure from your fingers on his hair, massaging his scalp with shampoo, are making his tongue a knot and his throat release one moan of pleasure after another.

She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily / Better yet, she wouldn't care

You walk through broken mirrors and scattered furniture, reached out to Loki, who's hiding their head between their knees.

You don't say anything, you just play with his hair. It's cold, much colder than usually. But you don't care.

"Leave, please. You'll get hurt," their voice is growly from the smoking but weak.

"Forget it. I'm not leaving you alone in this state," you declare matter–of–factly. A sound comes out of his throat, something between a chuckle and a cough.

They snap their head up, blue and scarred cheeks wet with tears and flaming red eyes with blue veins all over them drilling holes in you. "Do you dare say this in my true face? Declare that you care about a monster?" He spits, lips shaking as they try to hold back another crying fit.

You face stone, you grib his cheeks to stop them from breaking eye contact. "I am not leaving you alone like this, because I care about you and I love you. And, I don't give a fuck what others have made you think of yourself, you're anything but a monster," you keep your voice steady, trying to physically pin those words in his mind.

They sigh and lean against your hands, eyes closed and breaths slow as tears start rolling down his cheeks again. They turn to kiss your palm, now the rest of his body relaxing and hands bringing you close to a hug. "Thank you," they breathe out against you, the weakest of smiles forming slowly.

We'll steal a Lexus, be detectives / Ride 'round picking up clues

"Feet off or I'll chop them off and put them in the truck," you snap, eyes on the road as you try to find a place to park.

"Relax, it's not ours," Loki brushes off the threat. You sigh and park the car among some trees on the edge of the road, hoping no one will see it. He tries to mask it, like always, but you can see how the pain is making their features harsh.

"You can drop some spells, we're well hidden," you point out, watching as the pale skin starts melting and dark azure replaces it. Your skin crawls, you don't know if it's the cold or the awe. Loki breathes out, head resting back on the seat. "I didn't know the illusion is so painful," you think out loud.

"When running so low on rest, everything is painful. Now, where are those files…" they mutter and turn around, searching for the yellow case in the back seat. "Here. Do you have any idea?" he asks, giving you the file.

"I'll probably find something to milk. Now get that rest before you pass out on the field," you glare at them with that Look. He grins and nods before laying against the window, a thin layer of frost already forming.

Then, they start laughing.

"What's so funny?" you ask, not looking up from the report you're reading.

"Before I even talked to you, I had the honeymoon trip already planned in my brain, with too many versions to count. This wasn't even on the list," he straightens up and smiles. You laugh too.

"Well, it's not exactly as bad as you make it sound,"

"Norns, are your standards so low or are you so disappointed in me?" They raise one eyebrow.

"Neither, love. Now get rest before I have to knock you out," you smile through threatening him.

"Kinky, might try it later," they wink and lay back down, his breathing deepening some minutes afterwards.

We'll name our children Jackie and Wilson / Raise 'em on rhythm and blues

You're laying against them, smiling like an idiot as he runs a hand on your stomach and feeling this new anomaly.

"Are you sure?" you ask, watching a small wrinkle from between their brows.

"Yes. Two of them. Perhaps boys but I can't tell yet," he whispers, hand still resting there even though the spell is over.

"Twins… we will become parents," you smile, breathing out and laying against their shoulders.

Loki calls your name. You turn around and he rests his forehead against your own. "I love you so much, you know that? All three of you," they grin. You chuckle and close your eyes, accepting the kiss that's definitely coming.

"You know, we'll have to name them something," you point out after they break the kiss.

"Narfi and Vali," he's… quite fast on picking up the name.

"No way,"

"Why?"

You freeze. "It's silly…" you mutter.

They cup your face, glowing green eyes on yours. "It's bothering you,"

"It's the myth… how Narfi and Vali suffered in the myth because of your… because of Loki's mistakes… I don't want this to happen to the little guys," you sigh.

"Then, do you have to suggest another name while I'm trying to think of a second choice?" he smiles.

"It's even more silly," you giggle.

"At least it won't be your mythological dead kids,"

You take a deep breath. "Jackie and Wilson, from the song," you are ready to hear them laughing at you for the suggestion. But he just smiles.

"Jackie and Wilson…"

Cut clean from the dream that night, let my mind reset / Looking up from a cigarette, she's already left

Loki has no idea how long they've been staring blankly at the ashtray, the suit in front of him mocking him.

It's maybe the first time they're so hesitant about wearing all black.

It was supposed to be a small mission, nothing dangerous. You were supposed to be back, safe, within an hour.

You were supposed to raise your sons and retire in that castle in the middle of the forest.

Why was he so foolish to believe that he deserves a happy ending?

"You have to collect yourself. You have to say the farewell, a fucking thank you for all you've got from it, you coward!" they spit at the mirror opposite to them, hand tensing and breaking the cigarette in half.

A deep breath, in and out, a tight squeeze on the wedding ring hanging from his neck, and they stand up to put the damn suit on.

I start digging up the yard for what's left of me in our little vignette / For whatever poor soul is coming next

The funeral is over, the farewell has been said. But there's a small dinner coming afterwards.

Out of all the public appearances, this is by far the worse. Malevolence is something Loki has learned how to deal with a long time ago. But these eyes of pity are unbearable.

The strangers, probably reporters or Stark's acquaintances, coming to express their "condolences" are at least few enough to allow Loki to slip away to the bathroom.

He sits on the cold floor, this numbness drowning him. They hoped you had made it go away, but you just suppressed it. He wants to cry, to scream, to beg to whatever cruel Deity did this to bring you back. But their mind cannot give the order.

He takes your phone out, opening the music app and wearing your earphones. They press play on the last song you listened to, only to hear some familiar chords echo from the small device.

You were muttering this song all the time since you found out about the pregnancy, it's no wonder it's the last tune you listened to. But the upbringing melody of the song and the dark emptiness in Loki's heart are painfully opposite.

He sits there and listens to the whole song in silence, trying to milk some happiness out of it.

But they only manage to whisper along the last two lines, or an alteration of them. Just before he starts weeping at the tile floor until Thor finds him.

"We would name our children Jackie and Wilson, Raise 'em on rhythm and blues,"

[sdottkrames]

Welcome Home My Boy (Welcome Home My Son)

✍🏼By: me, @sdottkrames

🎁For: @skeeter-110 for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

⭐️Rating: general audiences

💜Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Pepper Potts, May Parker (au where she’s not Peter’s aunt)

Summary: Tony Stark’s life is missing something. Peter Parker is an orphan who wants a family. And Pepper Potts comes up with an idea that brings them together

Read on AO3: Here

“Do you have a family?”

“Yes. And I will see them when I leave here. You Stark?”

Tony’s mind flashed first to Pepper. Then Obadiah, Rhodey, Happy. But the memories exploded with the car crash that had killed his parents and faded along with the life in the eyes of Edwin Jarvis. He had no family. He’d kept it that way, distancing himself with booze and sunglasses and a falsely confident persona, all to protect himself from being hurt even more when he inevitably lost them, too.

“No.”

 Ho Yinsen had changed Tony’s life in more ways than one, but perhaps the greatest change had been through that admittance he’d been forced to give. 

Ever since that whispered “no,” there had been something stirring in Tony’s chest. He’d squashed it down vehemently when a black Tetris puzzle crawled across his chest and neck like some evil game. When he’d been freed of that, he’d found a little family in his best friend and his (now) girlfriend who hadn’t let themselves be pushed too far away by his fears and insecurities. 

Then his family had unexpectedly and, at first, unwelcomingly, grown. But soon the five other superheroes had forced their way into his heart and home. He rearranged the tower to house the new avengers, and found himself participating in weekly team training exercises and helping Steve Rogers of all people cook for team dinners. Game nights and movie nights and pool parties became part of the norm and Tony found himself slowly working through the anxiety and fear that carrying a nuke through a wormhole and falling almost to his death left in its wake.

 His life had never been more full of family. But something was still missing.

Then he’d had the dream.

***

Pepper was pregnant. 

She came to him with tears in her eyes, excitement and joy warring with worry and fear on her face, and showed him the positive test. 

“Tony,” she whispered, and he found himself speechless. The joy he felt spread all the way through his chest and stilled his tongue so he answered the only way he knew how: he swept his beautiful wife into his arms, shoulders shaking a little with a joyful sob that broke through.

“You are?” He finally choked out, and saw the fear and worry leave the battlefield of her eyes and she nodded.

“We- we gotta get a room together! A crib and, and paint. What color? Grey? You like grey? That’s neutral right? Then it doesn’t matter what they are- boy or girl or even if they decide to say eff off to gender norms.”

Pepper cut him off with an ecstatic kiss, and Tony felt that stirring for something different, something more, settle and dissipate. 

He’d finally found what was missing.

*** 

Tony woke up in tears, mourning something he wanted with every fiber of his heart, but that he feared he would never be good enough for.

He mentioned it to Pepper, and she was the one that came up with the idea.

“Tony, I want you to listen to me, and get this into your head. We’ve both talked about how we aren’t ready for kids, but I need you to know that it isn’t because I don’t think you’ll be a wonderful dad. When we decide to have kids, you will be the best dad those kids could ask for. I believe that with all my heart.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath and letting himself hear her words and believe them.

“What if you volunteered at an orphanage or something?” she said. “Get around kids, fulfil that desire until we both feel ready for a family of our own?”

“That’s not a half bad idea.”

Pepper had left him to his thoughts then. Once he got that look on his face, she knew that he wouldn’t let it go.

Sure enough, Tony found an orphanage in severe disrepair and desperate need of some support. After a few meetings with his teammates to make sure they were okay with little kids coming to the tower for a bit (Natasha and Bruce had thought it sweet, Steve had smiled and got a look in his eye like he was already imagining hanging out with the little ones, and Clint and Rhodey had all agreed enthusiastically) and filing all the paperwork with the best lawyers he could find, he’d gone to the orphanage to offer his help.

May, the sweet but slightly frazzled orphanage caretaker, had burst into tears right there.

“I- I don’t know what to say. I’m speechless,” she said, chuckling through grateful sobs.

“No thanks needed. I’ll take the kiddos off your hands for a couple months while my guys fix this place up. You just tell them exactly how you want it and what you need. We’ll take care of everything.”

Three weeks, several panic attacks, and more trips to Toys “R” Us and Ikea than he wanted to admit to, Tony had one of the lower floors of the tower completely arranged to house seven small children and was preparing to welcome them into his home.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Tony,” Pepper whispered, hearing his breath hitch as the car he’d sent to pick up the kids pulled in.

“Yeah,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Just fine. Let’s go meet our new roommates.”

***

Peter Parker could not believe his luck. 

When his parents had died in a horrible car crash a year ago and he’d ended up in the orphanage, he’d been labeled as having bad luck. Every little trip they went on, something happened. He’d accidentally let the class snake out at school (May had told him about Harry Potter, and how he'd let a snake out, too, which made Peter feel better). And there was the time that he’d gotten left behind during an outing at Central park, and the time a bird had pooped on his ice cream while he was eating it outside with his best friend Ned, and the time that-

Well, you get the picture.

Joselyn called it “Parker Luck,” but she wasn’t trying to be mean. She just talked even more than Peter did, and tended to say exactly what she thought. She was one of Peter’s best friends at the orphanage, and besides, she wasn’t wrong. Peter did tend to have some not so great things happen to him.

But not today.

Today was the greatest day of his life, because today was the day that all the kids were moving into the Stark Tower. 

Three weeks ago, Tony Stark himself had come to the orphanage. Peter remembered May crying and he hadn’t known why. He’d drawn her a picture to make her happy, but she explained that they were good tears, and had told him and all the kids that they would be leaving for a few months to live at Stark Towers. 

Peter had nearly peed his pants in excitement, and he was quivering with it again as the car pulled up and he could see both Tony Stark and Pepper Potts through the glass door. 

One by one, each kid got out of the car while a small swarm of workers gathered their things to take up for them.

“Hello, everyone,” Pepper greeted them with a smile, and Peter felt his cheeks heat up. Tony was his hero, but he also knew how smart and wonderful Pepper Potts was. 

“Welcome,” Tony said, grinning.

As soon as the man spoke, Peter couldn’t help the way his eyes went wide and his mouth popped open with a gasp. He was everything the boy had imagined, standing confidently in a sharp black suit with those signature sunglasses on his face.

The two adults began to explain the rules of the tower as they took the children on a small tour. They introduced the security guards, explained who to ask for help if they got lost or hurt, where they were allowed to go and what areas were off limits, and how they would be getting to school. Peter didn’t pay too much attention though. He was too excited, taking in the sight of the tower, his hero, and thinking about how cool it was that this would be his home for a little while. He was certain nobody was luckier.

“Mr. Stark?” one of the other boy’s- Mikey- asked when they passed one of the labs they were being shown on their little tour.

“Yes?”

“Where’s your Iron Man suit?”

Tony chuckled. “It’s in my private lab, away from anybody’s hands that aren’t mine. Don’t want anything breaking them.”

“Not the Mark 50,” Peter asked softly before he could stop himself.

“Huh?” Tony’s piercing gaze was turned to him. 

Squirming under the sudden attention, he tugged on his shirt. “W-well, the nanite suit, sir. Unless a person broke the actual nanite robot, the suit could just be reformed.”

“You know about nanites?”

Chocolate curls flying, the boy nodded enthusiastically. He couldn’t help himself once someone got him talking about the things he loved. “Yeah! I did a report on them a month ago. I read all your papers on them, and I even started trying to make my own so that I could-” Blushing furiously under his hero’s appraisal, Peter cut himself off and ducked his head. “Sorry.”

But Tony Stark didn’t look angry. “I’m gonna give you a piece of advice, kid: never apologize for being the smartest in the room.” He winked. “You really read my work on nanotechnology?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m impressed.”

And Peter was grateful that his legs didn’t give out right then. He could hardly believe the compliment. He was dazed for the rest of the tour, soaking the praise in with a huge grin.

Eventually, they arrived at their floor. It was a large one, and after the Battle of New York, it had stood mostly empty. There was a spacious living area and a small kitchen, and then a hallway with three bedrooms and en-suite bathrooms.

“Now, you’re going to have to share,” Tony explained. “We don’t have seven rooms on this floor, but each room has a bed and desk for you.”

“You three girls will share a room while the boys will split up in twos,” Pepper added. She gestured to one of the rooms. “This one’s yours, girls. It’s a little bigger and we’ve put three beds in it. Boys, you can decide which of the other rooms you want and who you want to share it with.”

Joselyn, along with the other two girls Kaylie and Hazel, dragged their suitcases and chatted excitedly as they entered their room.  If it had been possible, Peter would have roomed with Joselyn...or Ned. But those two not being an option, he looked to the boys.

He was the oldest out of all of them. There was the four year old Greyson and the six year old twins Mikey and David. It was fairly obvious that the twins would stick together, so Peter took Grey’s hand.

“Can I be your roommate, buddy?” The little boy nodded enthusiastically. “It looks like the twins took the middle room, so we get this one!”

The boy genius led his new roommate through the door and for the second time that day felt his jaw drop. 

The room was huge, and the beds looked like they were clouds, piled high with pillows Peter was almost certain were the most comfortable things on the planet. Grey seemed equally as overwhelmed, walking over to inspect the bed.

“Can you help me put my clothes away?” he asked, turning to the older boy.

“Sure.”

And slowly they got settled into this new chapter of their lives.

*** 

Tony was about ready to throw something at the wall, which meant that he needed to get out and move around, distract himself from the problem before he actually did break something. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he didn’t want a repeat of the great Potts meltdown of ‘09. 

Sighing, he stood up and stretched, letting a loud yawn out as he did before wandering out of the lab. 

It had been nearly a week with the little kiddos staying at the tower, and Tony had enjoyed having them so far. He even invited them up for dinner and a movie the other day. Most of them had been totally starstruck and it had made him smile. He figured they might provide a decent distraction, so he wandered down to the “baby floor,” as he called it. 

He was delighted when the first face he saw was Peter Parker’s.

The boy was shy, but also unfailingly kind. Tony had seen him take the hand of the smallest boy when the two twin boys ran into their room, making the little one feel welcome and loved; had watched as the kid listened to his friend Joselyn, who tended to ramble, with a patient and kind smile, never seeming annoyed by how verbose she was; and had smiled as the kid let one of the other girls hold his hand during a part in Snow White that scared her.

He was exactly the sort of distraction that Tony needed.

“Hey, Pete. How’re you doing?” he greeted, smiling a little as the boy’s cheeks turned pink and his lips lifted in a small, excited grin when he was called by name.

“G-good, Mr. Stark. How are you?”

“I’m doing good. A little frustrated with a project I’m working on, so I figured I’d take a break and come see you kiddos. How was school? Learn anything good?”

Peter’s eyes lit up as they had the first day the older genius had met the kid and they bonded over nanotechnology. Tony smiled as the chatter about 2nd grade science (they were learning about cells) and math (how was an 8 year old already doing functions?!) swept his frustration right out the door with its soothing familiarity. He didn’t have to figure anything out or meet any deadline. All the kid wanted was someone to listen.

So Tony did, oohing and mmhmming in all the right places, until the kid asked: “So what project were you working on before? Maybe I can help so you’re not so frustrated? can I?”

He’d known how sweet Peter was, but Tony was still taken aback by the kindness. “Well, if you want to-“

“Sure!” The little eager beaver said quickly. “What’s the project?”

Hesitating only for a second, Tony explained how Clint’s explosive arrows weren’t working properly, detonating too soon because of an unstable chemical inside them.

With a few graphs and a little breaking down of some more technical terms, Peter understood the problem.

“Let me think a little bit, okay?”

“Sure, buddy,” Tony chuckled. “However long you need.”

And he let the kid think while he checked some emails and wandered into the kitchen to grab him and his mini genius a granola bar.

He stopped for a moment before joining Peter at the table, his steps halted by the adorable crease in the boy’s brow and the way his tongue poked through his teeth as he drew some diagram.

When Tony finally pulled himself together to sit down against and offer Peter the snack, the kid announced: “I got it!”

Surprised, Tony raised an eyebrow and motioned for Peter to continue.

“What if you use your nanites? You could engineer them in a way that they wouldn’t jostle or affect the catalyst. Clint could control when they fell away, which would cause the explosion to happen.”

He pushed the little picture he’d drawn to illustrate, compete with a stick figure Clint Barton in purple (Hawkeye’s theme color), and Tony let his jaw go slack.

“Kid, honestly, I’m impressed. That’s genius. How in the world did you think of that?”

Peter flushed under the praise, and explained the process to Tony, the latter encouraging him whenever he seemed self conscious about his rambling. 

“You, my friend, are one of the smartest kids I know. Would you like to help me build these arrows?”

Peter’s eyes widened to the size of a dinner plate. “What?”

Tony chucked. “They’re your idea, kiddo. It’s only right that you should help me make them. I’ll handle all the explosive parts, but I think you should help engineer the nanites.”

“I would love to!” The boy choked out.

“Great. After school tomorrow, come to my lab. Jarvis will know where to take you.”

“Okay!”

Tony stayed a little while longer, enjoying talking science with Peter, before being called to other projects. He was grateful for the distraction though, because he couldn’t wait to see the look on the kid’s face when he saw the lab.

And, boy, Peter did not disappoint.

When Jarvis opened the door, Peter’s jaw dropped and he practically flew to one of the Ironman suits. Talking a mile a minute, he inspected every inch of the lab. 

“Oh my gosh, what’s this?! Wait, no way, is that- it is! Mr. Stark this is amazing! And woah look at that!”

Tony just chuckled at the kid’s enthusiasm, and pulled his attention to the reason for their working together after a few more minutes’ exploration. 

The two spent hours in the lab together. Tony hadn't ever thought he would enjoy sharing his lab with anybody, let alone an 8-year-old child, but Peter was different. He found himself wanting Peter to come help him more often.

This is only temporary. A cynical voice inside him said.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be. Maybe I can give him a real internship and a real job? Said the more hopeful part of his brain.

A seven year old with a job. Yeah, that’s a great idea.

Tony shook his head to clear off the thoughts. He would enjoy the lab time he did get with this kid that had somehow wormed into his iron heart. He’d just have to baby proof the lab first.

***

Peter fought back the tears, trying hard not to let Flash’s taunting get to him. He kept walking, ignoring his classmate’s teasing behind his back as he nearly ran out the front door.

“Hi, Mr. Happy,” he greeted, trying to keep the sniffling out of his voice. The man Mr. Stark had assigned to drive him to and from school didn’t like little kids. (At least, Peter thought he didn’t. He wasn’t mean, but he seemed to grunt and growl more than use really words.)

“Hey,” Happy grunted, as was his usual greeting, and Peter didn’t notice the concern in the man’s eyes when he didn’t answer right away as he blinked back tears. 

The drive to the tower was quiet except for the occasional snuffle from Peter, who was trying to his sadness. He hated when Flash was mean, especially about his parents. He missed his parents and his Aunt and Uncle. It was right of Flash to bring them up, but there wasn’t much Peter could do about it.

When he came into the tower, he was surprised to see Mr. Stark there, waiting for him in the living room. Usually the man had him come straight to the lab, but they hadn’t been scheduled to work together that day.

“Hey, kid,” Tony greeted.

“H-hi. Are we having a Lab day today?” Peter tried to keep the hope out of his voice. Tinkering around the lab with his hero was exactly what he needed to cheer him up. 

“I was thinking we might spend some time in the lab, yeah. If you’re up for it?”

“Yeah, i'd love a lab day, sir!” Peter said, smiling his first genuine smile since Flash had said the word “orphan” at lunch.

“Yeah? Let’s go, young padawan.” 

Peter gave a small smile at the Star Wars reference. Mr. Stark wouldn’t have known that reference if Peter hadn’t rambled about the franchise one of their last Lab days, which then led to the man insisting they watch the movies together so Peter could “make sure he understood what was happening.” He was pleased Tony seemed to have enjoyed the endeavor! The pleasant feeling followed him as they went to the lab and began working on the housing unit for the nanites in Clint’s arrows.

Tony, however, kept a watchful eye on his little friend.

Happy had texted saying that something was off with the kid, and while Tony had no experience with children prior to the last few weeks, he did have experience with being a genius and an orphan. He figured tinkering would be a good distraction, and he’d wager he was correct after seeing the look of relief and excitement on Peter’s face when he was invited to the lab.

It wasn’t until they had the housing unit almost complete that Tony decided to actually broach the subject.

Though working with his hands seemed to have stemmed the tears Happy reported seeing in the car, the boy was definitely off. He sniffled more than once, and didn’t seem as talkative or enthusiastic as he normally did. There wasn’t a single excited ramble about his friends Ned or Jocelyn, or whatever the last thing they learned in science was.

“So, Peter. How was your day. You haven’t said much.”

Tony didn’t miss the tears that misted the boys eyes slightly 

“It was fine,” he said, turning back to his project with a barely concealed sniffle.

Tony felt slightly awkward and unsure. He’d never had a conversation like this with a little kid before. Heck, he was barely getting to the point of speaking openly to his girlfriend and best friend about some things. But if he wanted to someday have kids, he figured he’d need to start getting used to stuff like this. With a deep breath, he took the plunge.

“Buddy, if you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s okay. But, uh, if you do want to talk about whatever is bothering you, you can. I mean, I’m all ears or whatever. I can blast or make fun of or drown in ice cream nearly any problem you have.”

Peter hesitantly turned towards him. “I-it’s really nothing. I’m f-fine.”

“I’m real sure, kid,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously, is everything okay?” The hesitation in the boy’s eyes warred with the desire to tell what had happened. “C’mon. Out with it! The sooner I know who or what I need to blast, make fun of, or drown in ice cream, the better we’ll both feel.”

“W-well It’s this kid n-named Flash.” Peter began twisting his shirt into knots as he finally gave in. “He was just making fun of me for not having parents and he just b-bothered me more today, I guess.”

Tony’s heart squeezed in sympathy. He had plenty experience of his own being an orphan and dealing with bullies.

“Since I can’t blast a kid with my repulsars, although he maybe deserves it for being such a jerk,” he finally answered, “and I don’t feel right making fun of him, either, I’m going to settle with drowning it in ice cream. I know a great place just up the street, whaddya say?”

There was a small smile, which Tony saw as an absolute win, and then a shy nod, and Tony whisked the boy away for ice cream.

“Ya know, kid, none of what this Flash kid says is true,” he said as he licked his mint chip cone. “You’re not unlovable, or unworthy of parents. You didn’t do anything wrong the day they died. You couldn’t have been a better son. Trust me. All those things are utter nonsense.”

Peter stared at him dumbfounded. “H-how did you know?” He whispered.

“I’m an orphan too, ya know. I lost my parents many years ago, but I definitely know a little of what you’re feeling and dealing with.”

“Really?”

“I promise.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Anytime, kid. Anytime,” Tony said. “Now, are you drowning enough in ice cream? Do you need more chocolate sauce? You look like you need more chocolate sauce.”

Peter giggled, and Tony couldn’t help the slow smile that stole across his face as he went to go get more chocolate sauce, determined to keep that little boy smiling as long as possible.

***

“Um, can you find it in an aquarium?”

The science genius duo was enjoying their usual time in the lab and Tony had begun a session of “I’m thinking of an animal.” His animal was a hippo, which he’d felt fairly confident about until this last question.

“I don’t know, kiddo, I’ve never been to an aquarium!”

Dropping his jaw and his screwdriver, Peter spluttered out an incredulous, “what?”

“I’ve never been to an aquarium.” Tony shrugged.

“Oh, man. You don’t know what your missing, Mr. Stark! There’s fish and turtles and sometimes even hippos and alligators. My favorite are the turtles.” Peter's Big brown eyes widened and Tony grinned in anticipation of the child-like excitement that was sure to follow in whatever story the kid was going to tell next. “One time, there was this huge sea turtle and it came and swam next to the glass right where I was sitting for literally five minutes. My mom took tons of pictures. It was so cool!”

Tony chuckled. “That sounds really cool, bud.”

“It was! Did you know that some turtles only lay eggs every four years?”

They continued working and sharing weird animal facts and Tony was again startled by the desire to make this little kid smile. 

“Jarvis, buddy, can you look up the nearest aquarium?” He asked when Peter had left to go to bed.

“That would be the New York Aquarium.”

“Does it have turtles?”

“It does.”

“Hippos?”

“No, sir. But the Philadelphia Aquarium does.”

“Get two tickets to the New York one for this Saturday. And clear my schedule for that day.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

A few days later, Tony was nearly bouncing with excitement as he waited for Jarvis to bring Peter up to the penthouse for them to go to the aquarium.

“Mr. Stark, is everything okay?” The boy asked as he exited the elevator.

“Yeah, kiddo. Everything’s just fine. We’re going on a little field trip, though.”

“We are?” Peter’s eyes lit up. “Where to?”

“That’s a surprise!” Peter’s grin widened to match Tony’s. “My schedule’s all clear. You good to go?”

With a floppy-haired nod, they were off. 

The little boy had no clue where they were going, and Tony indulged 20 questions, but by the time they arrived, Peter was no closer to figuring it out.

“Wait...an aquarium?” He gasped when he got out and took in the building.

“They don’t have hippos or alligators, but they just got a couple turtles. I figured after hearing about how wonderful aquariums are, I should try and go to one, and I thought you could show me around.”

Peter didn’t hesitate one moment, unabashedly grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him into the aquarium. They presented their tickets and the younger genius continued to drag the older genius around from exhibit to exhibit with huge smiles on both their faces. Like Peter, Tony’s favorite part were the turtles. The way they gravefully swam through the water and their kind faces made him feel peaceful and warm and fuzzy. And Peter’s little hand in his while he spouted off lots of facts about turtles made him feel even more so.

But the kids were leaving within the next couple weeks, and those pesky thoughts were back, marring the joy a little. Tony dutifully beat them back, aided by the peaceful feeling of being with Peter and the kid’s head modded off onto his shoulder on the way back to the tower.

***

Peter had nightmares more than he wanted to admit. 

They woke him up shaking with his heart beating so fast and hard he could hear it in his ears. The worst part about them, though, was how they would linger, seared into his eyelids. Scary images of his parents and aunt and uncle as their plane went down in flames replayed themselves over and over. 

Sniffling back tears, Peter decided to quietly sneak out of the room. He didn’t want to wake his little roommate.

“Hello, Peter,” Jarvis greeted, making him jump even though he knew the AI well. (Tony had even started helping Peter code his own when the boy showed interest.)

“H-Hey, Jarvis.”

“It is quite late for you to be up. Or early, depending how you look at it. Are you well?”

“Just can’t sleep. I’m heading for a snack, that’s all.”

“I think I have something that might help, if you’ll follow me, sir.”

The AI lit up a pathway and Peter shrugged before following it. He thought Jarvis would lead him to the kitchen, but instead he found himself staring at a door that definitely wasn’t for a kitchen. He’d never been to this part of the tower.

“Uh, where am I?”

“You’re outside Mr. Stark’s bedroom.”

His stomach flipped like a monkey after a banana, and Peter stumbled backwards. 

“Jarvis,” he hissed. “I can’t wake Iron Man up! Why’d you take me here. I thought you were bringing me to the kitchen for a snack!”

“I did not say that I was, only that I had something I thought would help.”

“No, I’m not going in there. I’ll find the kitchen myself,” he said, backing away as quickly as he could. 

But it was too late. 

A light flicked on and before Peter could turn around, the door opened to reveal a sweatpants-clad Tony Stark.

“Peter? What’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry Mr. Stark.” Peter’s voice was shaking and tear were burning his eyes. He’d gotten closer to the man the last month and a half they’d been together, but this was beyond embarrassing. He couldn’t ask Iron man to help him with his nightmares. “I couldn’t sleep and thought Jarvis was leading me to a kitchen for a snack.”

“No worries kid. C’mon. I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Y-You really don’t have to do that, Mr. Stark. I’m okay, I swear.”

Tony rolled his eyes, ruffling Peter’s curls and throwing an arm around the kid’s shoulders to lead him down the hallway. “It’s not a problem, buddy. I don’t mind cooking.”

So Peter was lead to the kitchen, and he was surprised how much better he was feeling not being alone. This was the second time Mr. Stark had saved him from being alone like this, and it felt really nice. He would miss it when he went back to living at the orphanage in a few weeks when the renovations were done. Sometimes, he would imagine what it would be like if Mr. Stark was his real dad, or adopted him, but he knew that would never happen. He usually tried to stop those daydreams fast.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. That looks really good,” Peter said, breaking out of his thoughts to take the toast with butter and jelly that he was offered.

It was quiet as Peter ate, Tony sitting next to him in companionable silence. Once the plate was empty, the bolder genius spoke up. “Again, kiddo, you do not need to explain, but if you want to talk about what’s got you up at nearly 2 in the morning, I’m all ears.”

Peter felt tears well up in his eyes. He had done so well not crying in front of his hero and he didn’t want to start now. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists to keep the tears from falling, but he was grateful to talk to someone.

“Um, I keep having dreams about- about my parents. The, uh, the day they went on the plane that crashed? And they just make me sad.” He shrugged. “S-Sometimes it’s hard to go back to sleep after I have one.”

“I have dreams like that, too,” Tony whispered.

Just like when the man had practically read his mind, saying exactly what Peter had needed to hear when Flash made fun of him the last week, a shock went up Peter’s spine. “Really?”

Tony sighed. “Yeah, I do. I lost my parents, too. Car accident. I also have dreams about being stuck in Afghanistan, in that cave, or in the wormhole. They’regetting better, though.”

“That must be really scary, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, patting the man’s arms.

“Heh. I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, kiddo.”

“Well, we all need comfort sometimes.”

“Thank you, buddy. How are you feeling?”

Peter looked up shyly. “Better. Thanks for the food.”

“No problem. Wanna watch something? That usually helps me fall back asleep.”

“Okay!”

They chose Iron Giant, and Peter felt so comfortable as Tony threw a blanket over him and pulled him under his arm. Slowly, his eyes drifted closed.

Tony watched as the little boy fell asleep, his heart melting and wrapping around his finger even more. After a few minutes to make sure the tyke would stay asleep if moved, he slipped his arms around the little body and carried him up to bed.

As he closed the door and saw Peter’s chocolate curls poking over the blanket, his tears prickled with tears at the realization he would lose this in a couple days.

Shut up he vehemently told that pesky little voice, and went back to bed, but didn’t get much sleep.

*** 

There were tears in everyone’s eyes, but Tony was going to blame it on May, who greeted him with tears of gratitude. All the kids gave her hugs before running off to explore the new building, chatting excitedly as they ran to the new beds and play area.

“Mr. Stark-“

“Tony, please, May.”

She smiled. “Tony. Seriously, though, I cannot thank you enough. You have no idea how much this means to us. How much this means to me.”

See, this is why he was blaming May for the misty eyes. “Not a problem. The pleasure was all mine. It’s a special group of kiddos you got there.”

“They really are. And thanks to your help, the orphanage got some media attention, and now I’ve got people interested in the twins and a couple of the girls! I hope they all find good homes.”

“That’s amazing, May!” Tony said, and he meant it. Every single one of the kids had found a way into his heart, but none more than Peter. And the thought of that little boy going to another home caused another round of tears to come, though he quickly blinked them away.

“Mr. Stark!” As if called by Tony’s thoughts, Peter came bounding up, throwing a hug around the man’s waist. “This is amazing. Not as amazing as the tower, obviously, but this is a close second. Thank you so much!”

Tony hugged the boy back and assured him that he was happy to help, all the while trying to pretend his heart wasn’t breaking.

***

“Tony, this is ridiculous,” Pepper said, marching into his lab after the fourth day in a row of him being there. 

“What is, dear?” He asked, deflecting as usual.

Pepper raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her crisp blue suit. Even under her scrutinous glare, Tony had to admit she was gorgeous.

“You know what, dear. Peter’s gone and you’re back to moping in the lab.”

Acid curled his stomach, and he had to look away. “Well, what do you want me to do. Yeah, I miss the kid, and I’m trying to work through it. Just...just give me few more days.”

“You won’t survive another few days, Tony. You’re not invincible, you know.” She came over and ran a comforting hand through his hair, and his eyes closed of their own accord, trying to hide the tears. “Tony, what if...what if we adopt Peter?”

His eyes shot open. “What?”

“What if we adopt Peter?” She repeated. “You clearly love him, and I’ve watched him with you. He loves you, too. And I...I don’t know him as well as you do, but he’s so sweet and it’s impossible not to love him.”

“You’re serious?”

Pepper smiled. “100%. Tony, you’re ready. We’re ready. Let’s start a family.”

And just like in his dream, Tony couldn’t say or anything except pick his girlfriend up and spin her around.

“Thank you,” he said, tears in his eyes again. “I love you.”

***

Peter loved the new orphanage. He really did. The beds were as comfortable as the tower’s, and there were lots of cool toys and a new playground.

But Mr. Stark wasn’t there.

Peter tried to deny how much he missed him. How much he missed his own dad and how Mr. Stark helped fill that void a little with lab days and movie nights. He’d even helped Peter when Flash was mean and he’d had a nightmare.

And he missed him.

It also didn’t help that Jocelyn and Greyson got adopted, and the twins might be as well. People had been buzzing at the orphanage ever since the renovations. The media had run a few stories on how the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had taken in the group of orphans and funded the renovations of the building. People had been coming ever since, but none of them really connected with Peter.

He hated to admit it, but he compared all of them to Mr. Stark, and none of the fit. Besides, they all wanted the younger kids.

“Peter!” May called, interrupting his moping. “Come here, sweetie.”

“Coming, May!” 

He jumped off the swing set, running towards the orphanage, but screeched to a halt as he saw a familiar face. Two familiar faces.

“M-Mr. S-Stark? Mrs. Potts?” He stammered out. “W-what’re you doing here?”

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony greeted. He looked nervous- a hand running over his carefully defined goatee, feet shifting back and forth, fingers clasped with Pepper’s.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, buddy, everything’s fine. We, uh, we were wondering if,” he hesitated and Pepper squeezed his hand. “We would like to adopt you, Peter. If that’s something you’d be interested in?”

Shocked, Peter couldn’t say anything, which was a rare thing for him. Or so his parents used to say.

“Really?” He finally choked out.

“Yeah, sweetie,” pepper said, smiling kindly. Peter was surprised. He’d gotten close with Tony, but not as much with her.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Tony grinned at him. “Well, say yes, buddy! We got a room all ready for you and a team of the best lawyers to make it official if you want.”

“Yes!” Peter said, throwing himself into their arms. “Yes, I want to!”

Again, everybody was crying (happy tears) and once all the paperwork was filled out, Tony took Peter’s hand.

“Let’s go home,” he said, his heart at peace finally, the nagging sensation of something missing finally filled by the little boy who was now his little boy.

“Home,” Peter repeated, smiling. His new favorite word.

[super-hero-girls-netflix]

How about both if you want? If not you can choose.

Emotional questionnnnn: What if a superhero died (including Batman and Superman cause why not >:))?

Uhmm...I'm going to talk mostly about if they just witnessed the death of the others since I don't think I'm ready to unpack the emotional baggage of killing a friend. ( But if you also about a specific kill with specific details on how it happened you can bet I'll give you a specific answer.)

It's clear in the aftermath of Superman vs Barman that Superman's death would take a toll on the civilians. He's iconic that way, I think it would be especially hard on Kara. And it would be terrible for Gotham morale and Batgirl especially, if Batman dies while being a hero.

It'd be terrible if either hero died. Both are incredibly strong and intelligent. If either died it would mean a villain strong enough and reckless enough to simply murder any adversary.

It would be pretty scary to all if Superman died....after all Cryptonien's are supposed to be indestructible, no?

Kara would take the death pretty hard. In denial, probably. Insisting that there is a way to bring him back.

If one of the Invincibro's (yo bros) died then it'll hit hard.

It'll hit differently depending on the counterpart. And the situation.

For example, if Hal died both sides will mourn. And the Invicibros will be a mess (I suspect that Steve and Hal were co-captains, if anything Steve is a bit of a figurehead). Speaking of 'captain' the school, whoever knew the confident brunet will be in shock because Hal always seemed a little invincible. Many would mourn him since he grows on you....like fungi. Jess will be wrecked and she'd blame herself because of course she would. She was his partner, she should have been there. 'And oh gosh she was alone now, she'd have to defend the space sector alone. And even if she's assigned a new partner it wouldn't matter because they weren't an obnoxious, confident, self-centered Hal'. And yes, there will be a certain dampness in the atmosphere for both teams.

If Barry died both teams (the whole city even) would mourn. Barry was beloved as both Barry the dessert slinger and the Flash, superhero speedster. Barry was kind of the kindness of the group. The one who did good for no other motive than the fact that he loved deeply and wanted to keep everyone safe. The team would keep chugging along with this mindset...but I don't think they'd be able to eat at Sweet Justice anymore. It would hit Babs' hard because he was her best (guy) friend and they swore to have each other's backs (in my AU) and she didn't have his and now he's dead. I think the girls would prefer to just move their headquarters since Sweet Justice was painful enough to just think about.

If Carter died I'm afraid no one will notice. Hawkman's death will be acknowledged but not Carter's. Carter's death if given any attention at school would be a mystery much like he was. Same with Hawkman, his death will be mourned but he'd be considered a mystery death because of his quiet nature. This will drive the boys mad because Carter Hall was DEAD and no one seemed to care. How can they not realize that everything has changed? Carter was more or less the level-headed one of the group. It would be particularly terrible for Karen since Carter was big and strong and knowing he's dead? Yes...she wouldn't take it well. She'd most likely try to avenge him.

If Oliver died it would be a bit of a scandal. I'm sure he has quite the fan base as both an aspiring actor and the charismatic Green Arrow. He was always the *cue dramatic gasp* dramatic one of the bunch. His death will be, you guessed it, terrible. Since happy, confident, loyal Green Arrow was killed. The atmosphere around the team would tune quiet, if a little hollow but they'd keep chugging through since Oliver wasn't friends with quitters. And it would hit Zee differently because the last thing they did was fight (of course they did) and now he's dead and she realized that she had fun arguing with him and their rivalry made acting so much more fun and now how is she supposed to perform when her co-star was dead? When the idiot who would make rude faces behind the curtains and then grudgingly admit she did 'decently' was dead?!? It would hit hard because Oliver and Zee shared a passion and they both left a stain there. She'd forever associate her love for the stage to her complicated friendship with a dead actor. (I think she'd hate when in the future people forget Oliver Queen's name). The whole girl said would mourn but they didn't know Oliver as well as Zee and Zee's a wreck so they'd channel their grief into comforting her.

God help the idiot who murders Steve. If Diana hasn't already killed you, the team will. The Invincibro's, I mean. Steve is a bit of a figurehead so kill the queen and they will make it their life mission to avenge him. That is all after the grieving, of course. Steve will be mourned heavily by both teams, especially by Diana and the Invicibros. Diana will be confused at first because she never even thought that Steve could die. Never crossed her mind. She never asked for anything, wanted for anything, but she wanted him. Him to be alive. How is that even possible??! Jeez, I don't see much of him so that's all I can really say.

If Garth is killed well... Both teams will be horrified and heartbroken. It's just that Garth is so innocent and sweet. And he was killed. The whole school I think would notice because the football team will mourn (in my AU) him. The city might be a bit indifferent because despite his confidence he never demanded as much attention as his team. But the team will never be indifferent to it. The Invincibro's will be furious to hide the fact that they are wrecked because yes, Garth can handle himself in a fight but he was only fourteen. He had plans and he was their friend, goddamit. (I really want to go in depth about how the girls and guys would react but I'll resist.) Kara will react similarly because how dare they take her little brother away?? One thing is letting him handle himself when he's getting bullied but killing him?

Okay...this is a quick peek at how the team and counterpart will react to their death....now for the girls!!

(they are all killed, okay? No different or accidental deaths)

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If Jess were killed the team would be a wreck, of course. Jess, I like to think, was the mom friend and medic of the group. The girls will mourn and healing will be hard. Very hard. They'll remember all the things she holds dear. I have no doubt they'll participate in protests like Jess has been bugging them to do when she was alive. The Invincibro's will be sad too, of course. Initially, then they'll be pissed. Won't rest untill they help the SHG defeat the killer. And Hal? He'll be feral, of course he would. He is very possessive and very loyal. He'd be in denial at first (they all would) because how can Jessica Fricking Cruz, passionate kind selfless Jess be dead?? That's not possible. She cared too much, had too much to do- she can't be dead. But I feel like halfway through his revenge rampant he'll remember that Jess was a pacifist and he'll...I dunno.

If Babs died the team will be swinging from horrified, to unbelieving, to furious. They'd be sad because Babs loved being a superhero and she loved helping people and now she was dead and- they'd be a mess. And don't even get me started on how Barry would take it. Wanna know how he'd take it? Very badly. Why? Because Babs is his best friend and his counterpart and he's supposed to watch her back and she's gone for real and this is terrible and he's so sensitive and everything is fallings apart it seems. He'll definitely be a little more jaded, a lot more protective and burst into tears when anyone orders a candy cake triple ripple tower with rainbow sprinkles. But then overtime it'll turn into a sad smile. Man, the Invincibro's will also be horrified since Babs was close to pretty much everyone.

If Karen died? Absolute pandemonium. The team will be equal parts blaming themselves and torn with guilt and sorrow. They will tear the world apart looking for a way to fix it somehow. Fix it the way Karen would have. The boy team, because despite all their teasing, will be in uproar because no one messed with Karen but them!! And Carter? He'll be at war with himself, because he should have protected her, the pipsqueak was too young and small and fragile to be able to hold off evil by herself and how dare she put herself in that situation? How dare she just leave them like that?? I feel like he'll be in denial for a long time, working through everything to avoid processing his grief but when it does it'll hit hard. Probably because of something small but subtle. Like getting electrocuted because Karen had quite a few fractal scars from her experimenting and super heroing. Or when he realizes he got stung by a bee- it's the little moments when it strikes deep.

If Zee died it would be a bit absolutely scandalous of course. Not only will the girls be horrified and heartbroken but so will Zee's fanbase as an actor and her father's assistant. The girls will have quite some time to even begin to adjust but soon enough they will jump straight into plotting their revenge. The boys will be livid of course but none more that her counterpart Oliver Queen. Oliver won't quite believe it, I don't think, he'll just think that Zee will just magically resurrect herself because the annoying actress who liked hogging his showtime couldn't possibly be dead. She was like a cockroach! No matter how many times squashed beneath your shoe those wretched little things will just come back. All the time...she couldn't be gone. And truly he didn't hate her, he just liked having a goal. To outshine Zee Zatara. So...how could she be dead? This will hit especially hard when he doesn't have a counterpart to fight with. Or when the leading lady role goes to someone new. Clear to say that Zee Zatara's death will be every bit heart wrenching.

If Diana dies be prepared for hell. The girls will fall apart with grief after avenging their leader. I feel that Babs would try to keep everyone together at least. The boy team will be furious because Diana was their battle plan leader too! And how- they'd be confused because how can the immortal Diana Prince die? The school would definitely have a service for the mystery top student. How would Steve react? He'd be horrified and lost, and confused but then he'd help the girls avenge W.W and live the rest of his life upholding Diana's values. (I'm not quite sure how he'd handle the grief.)

If Kara dies then there will of course first be the mourning (at least according to the show). Then the shock. Then the doubt because hasn't Kara 'died' before? And that would lead to hope which will make the moment of confirmation the most painful. For both teams. Garth will be completely blindsided with grief and anger because how dare they take his big sister? How dare they hurt moody, cold, rude at times, big softie at heart, Kara? And well I guess we'll discover that rage is also a prominent feature if the ocean, is it not? So yes, this will be an emotional rollercoaster no doubt about it.

✨✨✨EXTRA EXTRA✨✨✨

This extra will be non-super hero's who will also mourn and attempt to avenge the lost one.

Diana- she is the princess of an island of immortal warrior woman. Her mom is 'a final boss'. She will have plenty of people to avenger her (not that she would want that, per say). I kind of have a suspicion that Queen of Amazon's will either be overly sympathetic ('my daughter has chosen her path, now we can only honor her') or furiously because they were part of her daughters dream that got Diana killed (may you pray we never cross paths again or I will curse you as you have cursed me).

Karen- not sure... but maybe her parents??? They can make a suit too??

Kara- Her cousin because family is family and that's period and she's like the only survivor who doesn't want him (genuinely) dead. And Alex, her step-sister- maybe.

Jess- Green Lantern Corp.? Dexstarr?

Zee- her DAD, remember they are super close and he's super powerful and yeah....

Babs- Her dad- who's like a cop and even though he shown to be extremely lazy I have no doubt that he'd drop the donuts to find out what happened to his precious pumpkin pants. Might even call I'm Batman. Harleen, yes Harleen who tried to murder Robin because he embarrassed Babs will definitely go after her best friends murderer (even after finding out Vans secret identity)

Okay for Steve and Carter I genuinely don't know.

Garth, I'm not sure but if he's actually underwater royalty than you can expect a whole lot of flooding, earthquakes and sea monsters.

Hal- starfire is coming for your but

Oliver- Mortimer Drake, maybe? They are sort of bro's

Barry- DA WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD

Well...this was fun, wasn't it? Thanks for the beautiful ask, as usual @thedevilsmusicbox and I look forward to hearing from you. 😁🙋