#has always barely landed. maria was funny. she was really funny. had a good little chuckle over that one I’m coming after you

[uncaught-coolfish]

i did not care for v6

except for maria she was genuinely golden

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Ransom x fem!Reader

Warnings: none (yet) some swearing

Part One

You’ve never wanted to punch somebody in the face so bad until you met Ransom Drysdale. The smug, arrogant, jerk-face had been a thorn in your side since grade school. You both grew up in the Boston area, your parents sending you to the same private schools all the way through high school. You had run in similar crowds but no matter how much your mutual friends tried to get the two of you to get along you never could. For good reason though.

Your family owned and operated Cloak and Dagger Publishing, the direct rival of Ransom’s family’s publishing house, Blood Like Wine. Unlike you and Ransom, your families liked to keep the rivalry in business and not in life. Your father, Jackson Y/L/N and Harlan Thrombey were actually great friends who just liked to rib each other when it came to business, but were proud of the other’s success regardless.

But for some reason you and Ransom could never get to that level of friendship. And you weren’t in any rush to fix that.

Especially when he was pulling shit like this.

You groaned as you opened the door to your office only to see the smirking son of a bitch sitting in your chair, feet propped up on the desk and your favorite fountain pen twirling between his fingers.

“Maria, you’re fired.” You joked to your assistant who nervously looked at you from her desk right outside your door.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N! He just-”

“It’s fine. I know.” You sighed before walking fully into your office, letting the door close behind you.

“Good morning, honey.” Ransom’s voice was sickly sweet.

“Is it?” You snapped. You walked around your desk and pushed his feet off. “Get up.”

“You’re not being very kind to your guest, Y/N. What would dear daddy say about your terrible manners?” Ransom teased but stood up nonetheless. You glared up at him as he stood to his full height.

“Guests are usually wanted and invited, Ransom. Neither of which you are.”

“Honey, you hurt me.” Ransom feigned pain as he gripped his chest. You wanted to stomp your expensive Manolo Blahniks on his toes every time he called you that. It started your junior year of high school and maybe if it was anyone else you would have thought it was a term of endearment but he said it in such a condescending tone you knew it was anything but.

“What do you want, Drysdale?” You let out an exasperated breath.

“Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to visit an old friend?”

“Ransom, please. Unlike some people I actually have work to do.” You moved around him and sat down, pulling out your laptop. You looked up at him as he watched you with intense blue eyes that made your stomach flutter, annoyingly so.

“I’m actually here for business and not pleasure, honey.” He smirked as he sat down at the chair across from you. “I’m here to formally and personally invite you to Bleeding Hearts.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Bleeding Hearts was the Thrombey annual charity gala that they hosted at Harlan’s expansive, hidden mansion. Your parents had been going every year since Harlan first hosted it and you had started going about five years ago. You would never tell Ransom, but you loved Bleeding Hearts. It gave you an excuse to wear a beautiful ball gown-albeit rented-and to feel like a beautiful princess like the ones you had read about growing up. Harlan always hired a full orchestra to play the most beautiful classical pieces throughout the night and it was like stepping into a time machine. You didn’t understand why Ransom had to come all the way down to your office just to invite you to something that you were already going to.

“I’ve already had Maria send in my RSVP and donation, Ransom. So thank you for the courtesy, but it really wasn’t needed.” You rubbed at your temples, a tension headache now forming from all this ‘excitement’ so early in the morning. And before you’ve even had a sip of your coffee.

“I know. And you gave a nice amount this year. Did daddy finally up your monthly allowance?” He smirked.

Just one punch. Just one and then I’ll be satisfied. Technically he’s trespassing, it could be called self defense.

“Goodbye, Ransom.” You blocked him out as you opened your email and began typing away. You got about two sentences out before you felt your laptop being shut against your hands.

“I wasn’t done.” Ransom whispered, you didn’t realize how close he was until you looked up. He was now leaning over your desk, one hand on your laptop and one hand on the edge of the desk closest to you.

“Shame.”

“I’m here to ask if you wanted to come...as my date.” You snorted out a laugh and laughed even harder as a look of annoyance crossed over his face. He stood up and straightened out his shirt almost nervously.

“God, you’re funny. Now please leave. You’ve already wasted so much of my time with this little joke.” You rolled your eyes as you opened your laptop again.

“I wasn’t kidding, Y/N.” His words were sharp and his eyes blazing.

“Neither was I. Get out of my office, Ransom. Or I will call security.” You glared right back at him.

Ransom looked like he was about to say something but decided against it. He tapped his fingers against your desk and gave you a mock salute.

“See ya around, honey.”

“Close the door on your way out.” You muttered.

You clenched your fists as he left your office, leaving your door wide open. You could hear him laughing his ass all the way down the hall.

Damn you, Ransom Drysdale.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. He just kind of walked in.” Maria rushed into your office, almost tripping over her far too high heels.

“Ria, it’s fine. I know how he is.” You waved her off, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Please, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay…” she said nervously. When you gave her another reassuring smile she relaxed her shoulders. “I have to say though, he is really sexy.”

“Maria.” You sighed. “Get out.”

“Sorry.” She squeaked before exiting your office, closing the door fully.

You leaned back in your chair and let out a long breath. How had today already been the longest day and it wasn’t even nine?

“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”

“Good afternoon, dad.” You smiled as your father snuck his way into your office.

You and your dad had always been close. When you were younger he called you his “little shadow” because you loved to follow him around throughout his day. You would sit in on meetings and you loved when he would let you pretend to lead the team briefings in the morning. It was only natural that you would follow in his footsteps and work for Cloak and Dagger.

Your father always pushed you to be your best. He didn’t let you take shortcuts to get where you were today in the company. You worked your way up and proved your worth and made your father proud.

“What’s this I hear of Ransom Drysdale stopping in this morning?” He sat down across from you.

You rolled your eyes. “Because he doesn’t have anything better to do than irritate me.”

Your father laughed as he slid in his glasses up to the top of his head and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two have been fighting like cats and dogs since you were kids. Will this feud between the two of you ever end? And can it be soon? I made a bet with Harlan that you two would finally stop by the time you were twenty-five.”

“Glad to see that my torture has been amusement for you and your little buddy.”

“Just teasing, sugar plum.”

“Please, let’s talk about anything else besides Ransom Drysdale. I’m begging you.” You gave him a warning look over the top of your computer.

“Fine by me.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward. “How’s it going with Brooke Archer? Has she committed to C&D yet?”

Brooke Archer was an upcoming mystery novelist. Critics called her “the Agatha Cristie of our time” and rightfully so. You had read her first two novels and finished them within a day, completely entranced by her style of writing that had you guessing till the end. She was notoriously self-publishing but now that her books were blowing up she had finally made the decision to sign with a major publishing house. And your father had tasked you with landing her.

“I have a lunch meeting with her tomorrow. I think this could be the closing meeting.” You said confidently.

“Good. I’m proud of you, sugar plum.” He tapped his fingers on your desk. “And please text your mother back. She’s freaking out over what to make for dinner tonight.”

Confused, you pulled your phone out of your bag. You sighed when you saw that you had thirteen missed texts from your lovable but definitely eccentric mother.

“You’d think she’d know what I like by now.” You joked.

“What can I say, she’s a perfectionist.” You dad laughed before saying goodbye and exiting your office.

As you were typing out a response your phone dinged with a new message.

I hope you’re thinking about my proposal from earlier. Wasn’t kidding around this time honey.

Your thumbs hovered over the screen. How the hell had Ransom even gotten your number?

And like I said earlier, neither was I. The answer is no.

He responded only seconds later:

No ugly colors, don’t want to clash with my suit.

You had to give it to him, the man had tenacity.

You’re annoying.

Ransom only responded with a winky face. You shook your head as you exited his chat and went back to responding to your mother, barely noticing the smile that was covering your face thinking of that annoyingly handsome pain in your ass.

[jocia92]

(Google translated)

Dan Stevens, who grew up in Wales and south-east England, spent his summer holidays at the National Youth Theater at the age of 15, and he was drawn to the stage while studying English in Cambridge. Since his big breakthrough as Matthew Crawley in the hit series “Downton Abbey”, he has also repeatedly appeared in films such as “Inside Wikileaks - The Fifth Force”, “At Night in the Museum: The Secret Tomb” or “Beauty and the Beast” . Most recently, Stevens played the Russian Schnösel singer Lemtov in the Oscar-nominated comedy “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” from Netflix. At the beginning of June, the German film “Ich bin dein Mensch” by Maria Schrader celebrated at the Summer Berlinale Premiere, which starts on 1.7. comes to German cinemas regularly. Stevens plays the role of a love robot in it. Unlike on the screen, however, the 38-year-old prefers to speak English in the zoom-conducted interview. He chose a brick wall with a lion motif as the digital background. No allusion to the song “Lion of Love” from “Eurovision Song Contest”, but a photo of the famous Ishtar Gate in Berlin’s Pergamon Museum, where “I am your human” was filmed last summer.

Mr. Stevens, in your new film “I am your human” you play a humanoid robot that is entirely geared towards fulfilling the romantic needs of a skeptical scientist. You yourself recently described the film as “delightfully German”. How did you mean that?

I wanted to say that here pretty big questions - such as what actually makes a person or how much perfection love can take - are negotiated in a very light-footed, elegant and sometimes humorous way. In my experience that is a very German quality. At least I have often seen with many of my German colleagues and friends that they are very good at not discussing difficult issues exclusively deadly serious and melancholy.

Where does your personal connection to Germany and the German language come from?

My parents had friends who lived in Bielefeld and we used to visit them in North Rhine-Westphalia during the school holidays. Traveled from England by car! That’s how I learned a little German as a child, and later I learned it as a subject at school. I even did a short internship there through our friends in Bielefeld. I really love the language. Funnily enough, I was later able to use my knowledge of German professionally, because my first film was “Hilde”, in which I was next to Heike Makatsch played the British actor and director David Cameron, who was married to Hildegard Knef. After that, I always hoped that there might be another chance to speak German in front of the camera, because playing in a foreign language is an exciting challenge. When the chance arose to shoot “I am your person”, I could hardly believe my luck.

Did you know the director Maria Schrader who gave you this chance?

Funnily enough, when the script for the film landed on my table, I had just watched the Netflix series “Unorthodox”, which she directed. I had also watched a few episodes of “Deutschland 89”. In general, I knew that she was a great German actress, not least because friends who knew their way around the German theater scene often raved about her. Working with her was a joy now. Her understanding of actors is quite instinctive and brilliant. I have seldom seen someone who can help an actor who is having difficulties with a scene with such simple means.

The fact that you had already seen “Unorthodox” shows, of course, how quickly “I am your person” must have been implemented in the past year …

Oh yes, that was really quick. In March I was still in New York and was about to premiere a new play on Broadway. But then the pandemic came, everything was canceled and I flew back to my family in Los Angeles. A few weeks later, Maria and I met each other via Zoom - and shortly afterwards I was sitting outside in a café in the Berlin June sun for the first time in months to discuss the upcoming shoot with her. That was pretty surreal because I hadn’t actually left the house since March.

Is it correct that you oriented yourself to Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart to portray the romantically programmed robot Tom?

In any case, these were role models that Maria and I spoke about. When you think of the game between the two of them, you always see an enormous clarity and directness. Cary Grant, for example, was always quite funny, especially in his romantic roles, but also flawless in an almost artificial way from today’s perspective. I found that very suitable for a robot. Apart from the fact that the ideas that Tom and his algorithm have of romance and love are certainly also shaped by the classic romantic comedies from Hollywood. Oh, the woman is sad, so I’ll bring her flowers! Such automatisms from the stories from back then were very appropriate for Tom now.

Keyword role models: Who shaped you in your career as an actor?

There were of course many. Jimmy Stewart was certainly something of a role model. My mom and I watched a lot of his films when I was little and I was always impressed by the kind of sweet tragedy that went into all of his roles. But maybe Robin Williams’ work influenced me even more. I always found the incredible variety of his films remarkable. He could make his audience laugh hysterically like no other, but also move them to tears in other roles. I always wanted to emulate this range.

In fact, the range of your roles is enormous and ranges from the Disney blockbuster “Beauty and the Beast” to a comic adaptation in series format such as “Legion” to bulky independent films such as “Her Smell” or the horror thriller “The Rental “, Which we just released on DVD. Is there a method behind this diversity?

Not in principle. I like variety, but I’m not just looking for roles that are as different as possible from one another. Rather, there are always similar factors that I use to select my projects. Sometimes there is a certain director that I really want to work with. Or the role itself is irresistible because it presents me with acting challenges. And sometimes a script is just fantastically written and I am interested in the topics it is about. With “I am your person” it was definitely the latter, especially since the timing was just right. In 2020 there were so many societal questions that ultimately touched the core of human existence. Such a script, which deals with something very similar in a light-footed way, was just fitting.

A few years ago you said in a questionnaire from the British Guardians that your greatest weakness was not being able to make up your mind. So every time you are offered a role, do you ponder whether you should accept?

No, no, when a script appeals to me, it actually does it very quickly. It’s such a gut feeling. If I’m unsure and skeptical, that’s a good indicator that this is not the right thing for me. That with the difficulty in making decisions related rather to something else. For example, it takes me forever to order in a restaurant because I can never decide what on the menu appeals to me the most.

You became famous with the role of Matthew Crawley in the series "Downton Abbey”. Did you immediately suspect at the time that something big was going on?

At first we were all pretty clueless. There are really many British history series, and we were one of them. When the first season aired in the US and was a huge success there, it was pretty unexpected. I never expected the impact the series would have on my career.

Barely ten years later, are you still being asked about the role?

Oh yes, regularly. Probably nothing will change about that either. I got out after three seasons!

In the meantime, however, the flamboyant Russian singer Alexander Lemtov from “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” should also be a character with whom you will be immediately associated, right?

Right, it has been mentioned more and more recently when people recognize me on the street. This charming, silly film obviously had a nerve with the audience last year in the middle of the corona pandemic. Especially since the real Eurovision Song Contest had been canceled.

The film was the number one topic of conversation on the Internet for a while - and Lemtov GIFs and memes were everywhere. Did you follow that?

It was really hard to avoid it. I wasn’t looking specifically for what people were posting. But of course my friends passed a lot on to me, and there were already some very funny Lemtov things. But he’s also a figure made for GIFs.

Another question every British actor under 40 has to put up with these days: Would you like to become the next James Bond?

Oh, of course, everyone gets to hear this question again and again who meets certain criteria. But it is completely hypothetical. Although a few years ago I read in an audio book by Ian Fleming’s “Casino Royale”.

You mentioned earlier that you and your family have lived in the United States for a long time. How big is your homesickness?

I actually feel very comfortable in Los Angeles. But every now and then I miss the sidewalk culture of European cities. People on foot, street cafes, things like that. Last year the longing for it was particularly great, although it was of course clear to me that there was a state of emergency in Europe too. In any case, I found myself reading books that were set in Europe and made me homesick. Which is why the unexpected trip to Berlin was really a boon.

You are also an avid cricketer. That’s certainly difficult in Los Angeles, isn’t it?

There are quite a few cricket clubs here. The only problem is that the few people who do the sport here are so good at it that I have problems keeping up. That’s why I always lose sight of the matter here a little. Even as a pure TV viewer, it is not easy to stay on the ball, because of course there is no cricket broadcast here at prime time. But as soon as I’m home in England in the summer, I really want to play again!

[dearlazerbunny]

Lie to Me (Ch 1 of ?)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 2200 

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

If I don’t post what I already have it’s never going to get finished soooo have some Loki. Hovering around 20k rn But I still have a looooot left to write. If anyone is interested in beta-ing/helping me flesh out ideas hit me up! 

“You.” You look up with a very good impression of a deer caught in headlights. The woman beckoning to you is clearly high up in the SHIELD hierarchy; her suit probably costs more than your entire life is worth. “Are you free?”

You glance down at the coffee you were supposed to be delivering to your coworkers. That could probably wait. “Um, yes ma’am?”

“Come with me.” She starts off in a brisk walk down the corridor, her heels clicking sharply on the floor. You follow without question, trying not to tug on your uniform too harshly in an attempt to break it in a little better. You still aren’t used to the issued clothing, considering you’ve worn the default uniform of hoodies and jeans of a college academic most of your life.

She herds you into a bare bones room, just a table and a few chairs. You stand until she gestures for you to sit, not sure why she’s even glancing your way. You’re a lackey, nothing more. Certainly not worth the attention of Maria Hill.

The woman tosses a folder onto then table, and it impressively lands squarely in front of you. “I’m assuming you’re aware of recent events?”

You raise an eyebrow. “If you’re referring to Manhattan, then yes. It’s been a bit hellacious around here.” Like there wasn’t a person on earth who hadn’t seen the footage of monstrous black aliens pouring out of a glowing portal in the sky. Everyone has been scrambling to control the situation that is blatantly so far out of their control they might as well be fighting sci-fi aliens with Neanderthal tools. It’d be amusing if it wasn’t so terrifying. “Are you with the clean-up crew?”

“Sort of.” She gestures to the folder and you open it. Inside are crystal-clear photos of Earth’s newly minted heroes and a horde of special agents escorting a raven-haired man into a transport vehicle. “Look familiar?”

You release a small breath. Intellectually, you know this is the man- god- who just tried to make himself king of humanity and threatened the entire Earth to do it. But that doesn’t stop the wonder and amazement from washing over you. Loki, Norse god of mischief, real and in the flesh. In the background you can see the golden-haired Thor, swinging his mythical hammer. Well, not exactly mythical, is it? It’s real. They’re real. All the gods and realms and monsters and mayhem that have captivated you since childhood and ultimately lead to multiple degrees on the subjects- they’re real. It’s absolutely incredible. “Yes,” you say, probably a little more wondrously that you mean for it to be.

“We’ve got Loki in custody.” She says his name so nonchalantly, like she isn’t referring to a thousands of years old immortal demigod of the golden realm of Asgard. “And we have no idea what to do with him.”

“And this has to do with me somehow?”

“Yes and no.” She sighs heavily, like she needed to be done with this shit a decade ago. “SHIELD is treating the prisoner with kiddie gloves. Fury wants every single loophole filled and locked down three times over. So we can’t just throw him in a deep dark hole and forget about him- he needs to be afforded certain… rights.” The tone of her voice implies she doesn’t agree with this sentiment.

“Like what?”

“Like company, while we sort out all the red tape so we can prosecute him properly.”

“Company.” You’re completely lost. “He needs a babysitter?”

That makes a small smile flick across her lips. “If you want to call it that. We’re not happy about it, believe me. It’s an undeniable risk. But the lawyers are demanding it, and god knows we have to keep the lawyers happy.” A pinch appears between your eyebrows. You don’t like where this is going. “So. Will you do it?”

“Me?” You squeak, then immediately try to get yourself under control. “Why me? I was literally hired a month ago, I have no qualifications to do anything like this-”

She holds up a hand. “We know. That’s the point. All you need to do is sit in his cell for a few hours every day and pretend to look interested in whatever he’s rambling about. If he talks; he’s been completely silent since we picked him up. Take a book and a few snacks with you, don’t let him schmooze you into doing anything traitorous, and you’ll be fine. Plus,” she continued, “with your background we figured you’d be at least mildly interested.”

Damn. They’ve got you there. Several masters’ in mythology along with years of a childlike fascination means you’ve been ridiculously curious about Earth’s new visitors ever since Mjolnir landed in New Mexico. The spark in your eyes must have been obvious, because Agent Hill holds out a slender hand. “Have we got a deal?”

And so, not hours later, you find yourself wandering into the depths of SHIELD’s base. “Hi there.”

The room is depressingly stark and sterile- you thought you’d gotten used to being surrounded by the chrome and weird futuristic plastic that are apparently now the only two building materials left on Earth since starting at SHIELD, but this place takes it to a whole new level. And it’s newly constructed, based on the smell of drying concrete and fresh shavings peeling up around the screw holes in the corners. There’s a small, utilitarian metal desk and chair that’s been provided for you in the center of the room, so you drop your notepad and pencil onto the tabletop with a clang and pull out the chair. It screeches painfully against the floor, making you wince. Okay, no more of that. You suck in your stomach and slide in between the table and chair so neither have to move. A little tight, but you can make it work.

The other man in the room, framed behind a wall of glass, has not reacted to any of this.

He looks exactly how he did on TV, minus the leather armor and extravagant gold horned helmet. It’s all been replaced with the thin grey uniform SHIELD deems prison garb. You have to admit, he looks a lot less intimidating sitting pale and silent against the wall, handcuffs glowing faintly around his wrists.

“Um- can you hear me?”

Still no response. He doesn’t even seem to notice you’ve entered the room. Uuuuuuum, okay... There’s a microphone attached to the desk. You lean into it, frowning, fiddling with a few of the dials at the base. Then you tap on it and speak directly into the mic. “Can you hear me?” The man flinches wildly, a radical break in his composure, and his eyes dart to you angrily. “Oh, gosh, sorry, okay, let me-” you turn the dial down a few notches. “Better?”

The volume doesn’t seem to be at max level anymore- he doesn’t flinch again- but he also doesn’t say anything else. “I’m going to need verbal confirmation that you can hear me.”

He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t seem to be looking at anything. His gaze is focused on some middling thing opposite of him, something invisible on the horizon, but he’s hardly glazed over- emerald eyes are bright and sharp, flickering lightly. They are not the eyes of a defeated man, far from it. More like one who has about fifteen thousand and twenty three plans all running through his head at once.

You suppose that should scare you, but SHIELD has reassured you that the cell is one of the most technologically advanced cells they’ve ever constructed. Also, those cuffs have some sort of magic-diffusing abilities, so no funny business there. Then again, he did basically destroy all of Manhattan, like, less than a week ago. You hadn’t even been in that part of the country at the time, SHIELD had called you in from D.C., but you can still feel the horror grip your chest in a vice watching skyscrapers fall to tatters on the news-

“Yes.”

His voice is so soft you almost don’t catch it. It pulls you from your thoughts nonetheless. “Oh. Okay, great.” You pull your pencil to you and neatly label the first page of your notepad with today’s date in the top corner. If you were going be stuck with him, you might as well take notes. Think of the papers you could publish! “Can you please, uh, state your name for the record?” That sounded professional, right? You’ve heard it on Law and Order a lot, anyways.

The prisoner raises one eyebrow slowly. “Really?” He draws out that one word into a three-second attack of sarcasm, but you simply shrug your shoulders.

“It’s protocol.”

“I am Loki Laufeyson, Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies.” With every title he spits from his mouth, his eyes flash dangerously.

“O-kay.” You jot that down on your notepad, giving it an underline for good measure. “And how would you like to be addressed?”

“Your highness.” He says it as easily as he might’ve said Bob or Ricky.

You blink. “Um. Not sure that’s within my pay grade, but we’ll see how it goes.”

“Where am I?”

“A very secure holding cell,” you answer confidently, and the god scowls at you. He’s apparently waiting for more information, but you shake your head- “that is literally all the information I’m allowed to give you about that.” You glance up at the camera tacked to the ceiling of the room. “Also, you’re being recorded at all times. Gotta tell you that for legalities sake.”

“SHIELD has always so been worried about legalities.”

That gets a small snort from you, and you tap the end of your pencil on your paper. “So-”

“Who are you, exactly?” He suddenly sounds very, very tired, and a little angry, like he’s already done humoring you. “And why are you bothering me?”

“Y/N.” You give him a little wave, since you obviously can’t shake his hand. “I’m a, well- archivist, of sorts. SHIELD brought me in to talk to you.”

“And you’re, what? Fury’s pet?”

“Hardly. I’ve been here less than a month. I don’t think this uniform has even been washed yet.”

Another eyebrow raise. “An interesting choice to interrogate their most wanted prisoner.”

You tap a little more frantically. “I think it’s so if you end up getting into my head, I won’t be able to give anything up,” you say thoughtfully. There’s a huff over the speakers you’re hearing him through. “Also, this isn’t an interrogation.”

“No?”

“Nope. I’m not really qualified for that.”

“Then what are you qualified for?”

“Jeg snakker norsk,” you offer, honestly wondering that question yourself. The look he gives you is a mixed amount of horrified and amused. “They thought it might be helpful speaking in a familiar language, I guess?”

“They do know I can speak literally hundreds of thousands of languages spanning any galaxy you care to name,” he says, apparently stunned by the new heights of SHIELD’s stupidity.

You sigh. “Yeah. I thought it was a stupid idea too.”

“This is laughable.” He’s on his feet now, close to the glass and staring you down threateningly. “Why have I not been removed to Asgard? They will presumably want to prosecute me for my crimes.”

“Um, I think they’re planning on it. But they want me to, um, talk to you first.”

“About what.”

“Well. Anything you want, really.”

“I have nothing to say to you mortals,” he spits, and the word splats on the ground like it’s a curse.

“That’s cool, I get that. But right now all the bureaucrats are running themselves in circles trying to figure out what to do with you, and all that red tape is going to take some time to untangle. In the meantime, they want to make sure you don’t go crazy from the solitude or something.”

“Since when has SHIELD cared about my well being?”

“I mean, you’ve still got rights and stuff. You can’t just sit here for who knows how long with only yourself for company.”

“And why not?”

“Wouldn’t you get lonely?”

“Forgive me, but I hardly think you are going to provide any sort of adequate mental stimulation.”

Geez, way to hit below the belt. “You can request someone else if you want. They pretty much just picked me out of a lineup and threw me on you, I don’t really think they care who sits here with you.”

“What would be the point? SHIELD only hires imbeciles and fools.”

“Well, then. I guess you’re stuck with me for a while.”

The man slumps back, apparently not encouraged by your words. Then he punches the wall with one of his restrained hands and screams angrily in clear frustration.

This is going to go so well.

A/N: Jeg snakker norsk = I speak Norwegian 

[idontknowwhatsarcasmis]

The Lost Moments - Endgame

I’ll admit that the film reaaaaaaaaally got me upset and I was very much discouraged to write the next chapter…. Sorry about that! BUT my life has also gotten ridiculously crazy with post graduation, work and shit soo it wasn’t juuust cause I was angry at the franchise… But recently I watched the trailer for “Away From Home” and Maria *talks in the trailer*, guys! She has LINES!! =D

Soooo I sat my ass and tried to write more haha! Hope you enjoy it =D

Also, hooray for me for posting this BEFORE the new Spider Man comes out… it was hard XD I’m sleepy, but almost yay!

P.S.: Sorry for the possible tears… but pleaaase comment! :D

P.P.S.: Pleaaaaase don’t hate me! If you guys ask nicely I miiight continue!

Ao3

Ff.net

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The ship had barely landed and Natasha was already tripping her way down, arms wide and ready as her daughter threw herself at her. Tears broke out as soon as she felt the slim arms around her body. Pain shot through her side because of her injuries, but she barely felt it.

She didn’t care.

As soon as she felt she sweet smell of her daughter's perfume as she cradled Nicky's head closer to her, the shaking started. Natasha could not tell if it came from her or Nicky, but soon the sobs that came out had a very clear point of origin. Natasha had to fight hard not to wallow in despair alongside her daughter.

"Momma, Ka-kaelan, momma…"

Natasha pulled her tighter, tapping into whatever pool of strength she had left to keep control over her emotions.

She could feel the others back on the ramp, giving them time.

“I know, little one.” She said, voice trembling. For the first time in decades, Natasha wished she hadn’t tried so hard to overcome her Black Widow’s training. She wanted to be able to talk to her daughter without falling apart.

“He’s just gone, momma. G-Gone.” Her daughter kept saying, voice becoming an incomprehensible sound as the sobs become worse.

Natasha closed her eyes tighter, biting her lip so hard it drew blood. She couldn’t say anything. There was nothing she could think of… Maria would have known what to say. Oh, she knew her wife would have been heartbroken as well, but she knew Maria would know just the right words.

God, not even 24 hours and she was already a mess without her.

She opened her eyes and looked up to the sky, trying to blink away the tears, taking deep breaths.

Making shushing noises, Natasha crouched to pick up her daughter – not a feat as easy as it once was, especially with her whole body aching from the fight and grief, but the weight still brought her comfort. To have her daughter so close to her, a piece of her and Maria.

She walked up to the front porch, opening the door and picking up a blanket before sitting down on the couch with Nicky on her lap. She felt more than saw the others approaching and closing the door behind her.

“It’s gonna be alright, little one.”

She let her daughter cry on her shoulder, just repeating the words like a mantra. Her eyes glanced around the room, watching her friends who were still there, standing in her living room with tears in their eyes. They were all silent, staring at nothing, minds far from this place, where they’d met so many times to celebrate or joke around. Natasha’s eyes closed once more as she caressed Nicky’s hair.

“W-where is Clint?” Steve said after what was probably half an hour. Natasha froze, looking around her, and it clicked. Something really didn’t add up. Clint. Where was he? Why was he not here, with her daughter, his goddaughter?

“He left.” A broken voice whispered.

Silence.

“What?” Thor asked, taking one step closer, voice barely above a murmur.

“H-he came to see me after…after…” She trailed off, but now she wasn’t the only one shaking.

"He did WHAT?!" Natasha asked, using her hands to push Nicky away a bit so she could look her in the eyes.

"He left... aunt Laura and… and Nataniel and Cooper and Lila... they vanished… l-like Kaelan…"

Natasha just kept looking at her, her mind blank.

"Uncle Clint, he looked at me.... hugged me... said he was sorry... and left."

Steve was quick to pick up Nicky from her lap one second before she got up, phone on her ear as she stormed through the house towards the backyard.

Voicemail.

Redial

Voicemail.

Redial.

Voicemail.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Natasha screamed as soon as she was far enough. “How DARE you Clint?! My kid just lost her brother and her mother, and you left her?! ALONE?!” She was fuming, walking around blindly, hoping that Nicky couldn’t hear her. “You fucking bastard! How could you?! You are her godfather!! COME BACK! She needs you! We need you! Clint, for fuck’s sake! I need you!” She dropped on her knees, tears back on her eyes as she punched the ground.

“Please Clint…what do I do? I can’t do this by myself…”

Strong arms wrapped around her, tightly.

“You’re not alone, Nat.” Steve’s voice sounded soothing in her ears. Broken, but sincere. “You’ll never be alone, okay?”

Natasha just nodded, letting her phone drop as she let herself beheld for a second. Steve pulled away to look at her. He hesitated on saying something, and Natasha almost scoffed.

“What is it, Steve?” What else could happen to hurt her, after all.

Steve looked pained. Even more than before.

“Nicky… Nicky’s asking where’s M-maria...” He finally said, and Natalia wished that she hadn’t asked anything.

Her daughter needed her. Needed her to answer that her mother was not coming home. That Natasha had failed. That Maria was never coming home, cause Natasha had been too incompetent to stop that fucking bastard.

Taking a deep breath, Natasha got up and walked back to her house, head held high, hands shaking with the effort of trying to look calm. Trying to look comforting. Trying to look exactly the opposite of what she was feeling. She felt more than heard Steve right behind her, whispering her name, but she couldn’t stop. She needed to do this now.

She could do this. She could look her daughter in the eyes and comfort her as she said it. As she told her Maria would not come back.

She walked through the back door and the kitchen. They were still in the living room. Nicky was sitting on the sofa, wrapped around a blanket Maria had gotten especially for her.

She could do this.

Silence.

She could d-

"Momma... where... where's mama?

Natasha closed her eyes, fists tightening. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She tried a second time. Nothing.

Nicky got up, shaky hands touching Natasha’s.

“Momma?”

Silence.

She didn't need to say anything anymore. She felt her daughter jerk one step away. Knew she was looking at the others for confirmation.

She knew the second she found it.

The tears fell down once more and the shaking doubled.

Shame.

She'd failed the Universe and her team.

She'd failed her daughter.

She'd failed her son.

She'd failed Maria.

She was no good. To anyone.

It should have been her.

Xxxx

Natasha hugged Nicky tightly as the others got ready to get on the ship.

“You’ll bring them back?” Her daughter asked. “Both of them?”

Natasha didn’t dare answer. What if they couldn’t?

They had to…

But what if…?

“Momma?” Her daughter’s voice was desperate with hope.

She felt all of her companions hold themselves back at that. Knew they all wanted to come and hug Nicky with her. All of them, no exception. They’d grown as a family. Despite all the pain and anger that may have happened through the years between them, Maria and her two kids were a point of reference for every Avenger. The superheroes were all rather tied around Nicky and Kaelan’s fingers.

“Ma?” Nick asked again, voice once more worried and Natasha broke.

“Yeah…” she whispered, hearing everyone sucking in their breaths. “W-we’ll…” she swallowed “We’ll do our best, okay? We’ll bring them back.”

“Promise?”

Natasha closed her eyes, tears forming up.

“Baby, please…”

“Promise, momma!”

Her daughter was crying and Natasha caved.

“I promise.”

They had to bring them back. They had to.

Cause Natasha just didn’t know what she’d if they didn’t.

It should have been her.

Xxxx

Hope.

Hope was a funny thing, wasn't it?

So easy to build. Equally easy to destroy. Very hard to forget.

All very much represented in one phrase. In the swoop of Thor's axe.

In one head rolling on a dirty floor.

Gone.

Poof.

Swish.

Just like Kaelan and just like Maria.

Now she'd have to go back home and take the hope away from Nicky again. She closed her yes.

She wouldn't blame Natasha. She had too much of Maria in her. Of her Masha. She wouldn't blame her. No one would. They didn't have to. Natasha blamed herself enough for it.

She felt Danvers’ hand on one shoulder and Steve’s on the other. She wanted to shrug them off, but couldn’t muster the strength.

It should have been her.

Xxxx

Five years.

Five years go by really fast.

And, at the same time, it went by so painfully slow

Nicky grew up, of course, into an amazing teenager. At the age of 13, she was already so very much like Maria in personality that it was actually quite scary to look at. If she didn’t know better, Natasha would have said the two were actually blood related. Even after five years, Natasha wasn’t sure if it hurt more or less to see her wife in the movements, the words, and the looks her daughter would throw around. In the pose of a hand. In a raised eyebrow. In a glare…

All of the Avengers had kept in touch in a way. Always showing up for her birthday and special occasions. Tony, Pepper and their little girl in particular made sure to always come by and let the two girls get to know each other. Steve was always around. The most frequent visitor. It seemed he’d taken upon himself to be there for every little thing Natasha and Nicky needed. Natasha appreciated it more than she had words for, and she knew that Maria would have as well.

As for Natasha herself, well... She had no idea how she’d survived those past five years. She didn’t really remember how she’d gotten day by day. She just knew that she’d tried her best. She’d been right; Nicky hadn’t blamed her. There had been no need, though, as the broken sobs her daughter cried in her arms when the group returned from their failed mission had stayed with her since that day. Every time she kissed her girl to sleep (cause she still did it every night, even with her being a teenager now), she’d hear it as she closed the door. And she’d fall asleep with that sound. With the sound of a ringing phone and no answer.

It should have been her.

Xxxx

Natasha just kept looking at Steve on the other side of the table.

Hope.

As she heard Scott talking and talking about time travel, and all that crazy stuff, the only thing on her mind was ‘hope’.

Maria.

Kaelan.

Hope.

It was selfish, but she didn’t care. Hope of fixing this sad excuse for a life. Hope of having the love of her life in her arms again. Of having her little boy running around their backyard.

Her whole family together.

“So, who do we talk to about this?” Scott asked.

Natasha was halfway through the room by the time he’d finished asking. She didn’t bother to turn back; she knew Steve was gonna take Scott to the ship and tell him to keep his mouth shut.

She had a daughter to wake up and a billionaire to visit.

Xxxx

As soon as Morgan saw Nicky, she ran from Tony’s to her daughter’s arm.

“Nicky!”

“Morgan, hi!”

“You came to see me!”

Natasha had to laugh at the statement, not a question. that came from the little Stark. That was all Tony.

“I have! Let’s continue that game we started last time you came over?” Her daughter asked, voice excited, and Natasha knew it wasn’t fake at all, even though she’d asked Nicky to distract Morgan when they arrived.  She hadn’t questioned anything, and Natasha thanked her lucky stars (if there were any) for that; she did not want to give Nicky hope again if it had no foundation.

The group watched as the two girls excitedly entered the house, hearing Pepper greet them warmly inside.

“That was below the belt. Using your kid. Not fair, ‘Tasha.” Tony said in lieu of greeting. Eyes never leaving Scott. “You’re alive.”

 Natasha stepped between them.

“We need to talk, Stark. Now.”

“Stark? This is serious.”

“You’ve no idea.

…

Every rebuttal from Tony’s lips made Natasha’s fist tighten with anger.

“That’s right, Scott, I won’t. Even. Got a kid.”

Natasha snapped.

“And weren’t you lucky she wasn’t born yet five years ago.”

Everyone went silence. She knew why. She knew how her voice sounded. Dead silent. Devoid of any apparent emotion, just a deadly fury hiding underneath.

She was done being nice. She didn’t care about the slim chances. Didn’t care if it was based on a fucking film. She wanted her family back, and he was denying her that chance.

“Yeah. I was. Very lucky, and I don’t intend to mess with that.”

“So all those that weren’t that lucky? Screw them, right? You’re still the same damn selfish son of a –“

“Oh, don’t act like you’re all so different, Natasha!” Tony raised his voice to match hers, both ignoring the warning tone from Steve. “If it was the other way round you’d-“

“I’d what Stark? We’ll never know what I’d do, cause I don’t have them! I don’t! I didn’t even get to say goodbye, Tony! All I’m asking is for you to give us a fucking chance to get the people we love back!” She knew she was crying, could feel the tears running down her cheek and she got madder.

“You’re asking me to risk the life I have!”

“I’m asking you to get off your ass and fight, goddamn it!”

She said, taking one step forward, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. Steve and Scott both took a step closer with her.

“Nat, stop.”

Steve was trying. Natasha knew he wouldn’t succeed.

“Natasha, it’s suicide. There is absolutely no guarantee-“

“I’m good with that.”

“We’ll, I’m not in the mood for dying!”

Natasha heard steps coming on the porch. Part of her knew that both their kids were now watching, and so was Pepper. She didn’t care. He needed to agree to this.

She wasn’t the only one to notice the new spectators though.

“Think of your daughter, then. What if you die in this?” Tony said, voice low, hands gripping her wrists back just as tightly.

“I’m trying to get her other mother, brother and the fucking world back.” she seethed, gritting her teeth so hard it almost hurt.

“You really think Maria wou-“

She didn’t hesitate, her fist left the jacket and flew straight to his face at the mention on Maria’s name.

“Momma!”

“Dad!”

The two kids shouted, but no one moved, not even Pepper.

“Do not. She’d do anything. She’d have rationalized a plan. And she’d have done it years ago.” Natasha whispered, voice broken.

“Yeah… she would have.” Tony agreed, fingers lightly touching his nose to check the damage. As she looked back at him, she saw tears in his eyes, but Natasha knew it wasn’t from the pain. She’d held back. His nose wasn’t even broken.

“I’m sorry, Nat. I really am.”

Natasha turned around and left. Not looking at her daughter’s slightly confused, slightly hurt eyes. Didn’t look at the pity in Pepper’s. She just walked, focusing on her breathing. Already planning on how to get to wherever the fuck Bruce was.

As they were all sitting and the quinjet was taking off, Natasha just mumbled.

“Green.”

Steve nodded. Scott and Nicky looking confused.

“We need a bigger brain.” He explained.

Nicky got it. Scott didn’t.

Her daughter rolled her eyes.

“Uncle Bruce.”

“Who?”

She stared at him and, at any other moment, Natasha would have laughed at her daughter telling off Ant-man.

“The Hulk… duh.” Steve did laugh. Scott just looked ridiculously embarrassed with blushing cheeks.

“Ah…”

Xxxx

“Well, you pulled this off. I remember a time when that seemed pretty impossible too.” Natasha said, eyes never leaving Bruce’s.

He sighed, shoulders dropping, and Natasha held back her breath.

“He said no, didn’t he?” Bruce asked, eyes on the ceiling.

Her fists tightened, and she let Steve answer that.

“Yeah… He did. He has… reasons.”

Before Natasha could open her mouth, Steve was already speaking again.

“We might not agree with his decisions, but we can’t deny his reasoning behind it, Nat. You know we can’t.”

She just shook her head, refusing to speak at all in fear of saying something she might regret later. She just looked at Bruce again, who was analyzing his hands.

Silence.

“Bruce… please.” She mumbled, and at any other time she’d have flinched at her own tone. At how pathetic and desperate she sounded. She knew all eyes were on her. She didn’t care. She’d do anything for a chance at getting all of her family back. Anything.

“Okay.”

It was like she could breathe again.

Xxxx

“Momma?”

“Yeah?” Natasha mumbled, eyes fixed on Bruce and Scott as the he gave instructions to the latter.

“This is crazy.”

Natasha bit back a laugh.

“Well… most of our plans have always been crazy.”

“Momma…”

“Good! Cause if we blow the grid, I don’t wanna lose tiny here in the 1950s!” Bruce said, and it snapped Natasha to attention, her eyes widening like her daughter’s and everyone else’s in the room.

“Excuse me?” Scott panicked, almost backing away from the machine.

“He’s kidding!” she was quick to say, taking a step closer to Bruce, knowing her daughter was right behind her. “You can’t say things like that!” She angry whispered to him.

“It was a bad joke!”

Natasha shook her head. Glancing at Nicky, who was just now shooting her an incredulous look, she turned back to Banner.

“You were kidding, right?”

“I have no idea. We’re talking about time travelling here!”

Natasha felt a tug on her top.

“Momma…”

Natasha just nodded this time.

“Yeah, okay…”

3

Maybe this was a bad idea.

2

But… Maria…

1

Kaelan...

Bruce pressed the button and all of them held their breaths.

A teenager… a teenager was in front of them.

“Guys… who’s that?” Nicky asked.

“Ahm…” Bruce said as he stared.

“Is that Scott?!” Natasha asked incredulous.

“Yes!”

Button.

“Oh dear…” Nicky said, hands sort of covering her eyes, but not really. Natasha felt like doing the same.

Old Scott.

“Momma, this is not working.” Nicky deadpanned.

Sometimes Natasha hated how similar her daughter was to her and Maria.

“Yes, baby, I can see that.”

Another try. A baby.

A fucking baby.

They were doomed.

Bruce waved his hand at her urgently.

“When I say kill the power, kill the power!”

“Oh my god.” She mumbled heading towards the generator, ignoring her daughter’s disbelief look.

As soon as she hit the switch, they all stopped, holding their breaths.

“Somebody peed my pants...” Scott, an apparently normal Scott, said.

“Oh, thank god.” Natasha exhaled, letting herself drop against the wall. She saw her daughter shaking her head and leaving the room right about the time Bruce yelled something about this being time travel.

Maybe her kid and Tony had a point... this was too crazy even for them.

Xxxx

“Feeling more confident?” Natasha asked her daughter, a smile on her voice.

The beam she got in return made her heart lighter. Hope. Hope shone brighter than the damn sun in her Nicky’s eyes, and it lit up Natasha from the inside out. Because this had to work. There was no way around it.

“Well, Uncle Tony is in on it now! Nothing against Uncle Bruce, but I mean…”

Natasha laughed; it’d been a long time since she’d seen her daughter this free. This… happy.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Pulling her into a hug, Natasha just sighed happily. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him.”

“Don’t tell either of them… Uncle Tony would get an even bigger head!”

The two shared a laugh at that.

“He really would.” Natasha agreed.

Mother and daughter stood quiet for a few moments, both staring at the frame on the opposite wall.

It was the four of them. Maria and Natasha each had a kid on their hips. Smiling like it was the happiest day of their lives. Natasha smiled; she remembered that day. Natasha had just settled home for good and Maria had been ‘fired’, so it had been the first day of a long period of time where they would just be together. Just the four of them and visits from their odd little family once every so often. They were happy.

The happiest Natasha had ever been.

“We’ll get them back, momma.”

Natasha started when her daughter spoke. She was so focused on the picture and the memory that she’d had a momentary lapse. She looked at Nicky; the intensity of her gaze made Natasha think of her wife once more.

“Yeah. We will.”

Cause she really had no idea what to do if they didn’t this time.

Xxxx

“Natasha, someone has to get him. Someone has to stop him.” Steve said, voice clear.

She hummed, eyes fixed on the ground outside. Steve sighed.

“Natasha-“

“He left, Steve. He just left her here. Alone.”

There was silence. Steve knew there was no possible excuse for Clint having left Nichole alone the way he did. None of them would have done it. None of them should have done it. No matter the circumstance. They were family. Family.

“Nat, he… he knew we’d get there so-”

“He did not know that. He didn’t. He had no fucking clue if any of us were alive, Steve. So don’t bullshit me. He left like it didn’t matter. Like he didn’t care, so why should I go now then?! Why should I try to save the bastard who left her, who left all of us when we most needed him?!”

She didn’t realize she’d started shouting, but she had. By the end of her tirade, she’d turned around and was starting at Steve with tears in her eyes, heart beating fast. The wound was 5 years old, but it still hurt. Everything about that day still hurt deeply. But there was nothing to be done about some things… anger was easier. More liberating.

“Why should I bother, Steve? Just because we have hope? He wouldn’t stick around when we needed him, so why would I try and giving him anything?”

She asked and saw hope leaving his eyes.

“Nat-“

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

Natasha and Steve both turned around fast towards the door.

“Nicky…”

“Because it’s the right thing to do, momma. Yes, he was a coward. Yes, he left. But he’s still Hawkeye. He’s still Uncle Clint in there somewhere. Even after everything... You got him back once, ma. You can do it again.”

“Nicky, what he did… How can I-“

“We’re not the only ones hurting, momma.” Her daughter came closer, grasping both her hands in her slightly smaller ones. “You still had me left. And I had you. Can you imagine if that hadn’t been the case?”

“Nicky!” she admonished her. She didn’t wanna think of it. Never. It’d come so close to it.

“Momma.” she said, voice steady and serious, the look on her eyes so full of trust, love and determination that it was as if Maria was staring at her, chastising her for being too stubborn. “I know you wouldn’t have done the same as him, but momma, I know enough to know that it’d have crossed your mind.”

Natasha stopped, staring at her daughter. At the faith she had in her. Natasha wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t have done the same as Clint… the killing part, not the-

“I’d never have left any of the kids. Never.” she said instead.

“I know, momma. I’m not saying to forgive and forget. But he needs to be stopped. If not for himself, ma, then for Aunt Laura and my cousins. When they come back, they deserve better than what Uncle Clint has become.” she said, with such an air of certainty and finality that Natasha felt as if she was being sent off on a mission.

A chuckle coming from behind, told her she wasn’t the only one.

“It’s uncanny, isn’t it?” Natasha asked, cupping Nicky’s cheek with one hand.

The girl blushed as Steve laughed. Natasha smiled, feeling a bit of laughter coming up as well. She needed that.

“Mommaaaaa!” Her daughter complained, making both adults lose their restraint and really give in to the moment, making it much lighter than it was before.

Cheeks still red, Nicky puffed “I was being serious!”

Still chuckling, Steve approached her, putting one arm around her shoulders.

“We know, squirt. But it was really funny how it brought back many, many memories.” There was a nostalgic smile on his face, and Natasha knew the same was on hers, if perhaps a bit more pained.

There was a small silence.

“Do I really act that much like her?” her daughter’s voice was quiet. Almost as if she were afraid to bring up Maria’s name. Natasha knew it was her fault… She’d always get in a weird mood when Maria was mentioned. Her punching Tony was proof enough of that. She swallowed the lump on her throat and managed as proud a smile as she could.

“Yeah. Especially when you get bossy like that. You look and sound exactly like M-Maria.” She said, and both Steve and Nicky’s eyes widened at that.

…It hadn’t been that long since she’d said her name… had it?

“Yeah?” Nicky asked, shyly.

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll talk with Uncle Clint?”

“I’ll kick his ass.” She answered.

“Back here?”

“I’ll try.”

“Good. I’ll take that.”

Steve laughed again. “This is ridiculous!”

Mother and daughter laughed at that.  Natasha looked at Steve.

“Stay with her?”

He looked her in the eye.

“Always.”

Xxxx

“Alright, I’m going…”

It’d be the first time they were apart since coming back with news of Thanos’ death. Natasha was really reluctant. And now that they had to say goodbye, she could see Nicky (despite her hard orders) also hesitating.

“Yeah… kick his ass, momma… then bring him back, yeah?” Her daughter asked, arms still around Natasha’s waist.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” She answered. “To bring him back, I mean. I know I can kick his ass.”

“Okay!” Nicky laughed, squeezing her one more time before letting her go. Natasha was a bit slower to do the same.

With one last smile, she turned to head to the quinjet.

“Momma… be careful.”

Natasha pause. Closing her eyes, an unbidden smile came to her lips.

“Is that an order, little agent?”

She just knew her daughter was straightening her shoulders.

“It is, agent Hill!”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

With a smile, and an ease she hadn’t felt in years, Natasha boarded the ship.

Xxxx

"You son of a bitch." Natasha said quietly. Silent fury still there, reaching this massive strength that was just ready to explode.

All of her guilt, all of her frustration and anger and hatred and hurt of five years about to come unleashed and she couldn't stop it.

She did not want to stop.

He turned.

"Nat...I'm-"

She didn't let him finish, she attacked.

It was ugly. It was bloody. And both her wife and daughter would be sorely disappointed in her (or them both). By the time it was over, Natasha was hurting in places she did not remember could get hurt. Lying on the floor opposite of Clint, who also looked like he couldn’t move at all, she spat some blood.

“Ouch.” Clint said after a while.

“Yeah.” Natasha mumbled, feeling her ribs hurt at even that. Maybe those five years had made her soft.

“Let’s not do this again.” he said.

“Don’t make me want to do it, then.”

She couldn’t see it, but Nat knew he was nodding.

Silence.

“I am sorry, Nat.”

“That doesn’t cut it, Clint…”

A sigh.

“I know.”

“But it’s a start.”

They both smiled at each other. It was a start.

As they both helped each other to the quinjet, Natasha started to laugh.

“What?”

“You do know that as much as this hurts right now, Nicky’s waiting for you when we get home, right?”

The fact that Clint went paler than ever before made Natasha feel better than a punch or two possibly could.

Xxxx

"Barton." The clipped voice, the squared shoulders reminded Natasha so much of Maria she had to look away. She saw some of the others do the same.

She saw the hurt appear and disappear from Clint's face, and she knew that he didn't believe he deserved to feel hurt. He was right.

"Nicky."

Everyone held their breath as she approached him.

She was expecting a punch. He was expecting one. Hell, everyone in the room was probably expecting one. Natasha would definitely have punched him. Natasha had punched him.

Repeatedly.

But then again, Maria was there as well; it was not just Natasha.

Nicky just looked him in the eye for close to one minute. One tense minute, before she turned and started walking away.

Natasha was about to let a relieved breath, when it happened.

"I'm so sor-"

The punch was so fast that Natasha would have admitted she was impressed even if that wasn't her daughter right there. As it were... she was hella impressed. And also very proud.

"I don't hate you. But please don't speak to me. Not now."

She turned around before anyone could say anything, walking from the room.

Silence ran for a bit longer, the echo of her steps fading away.

"Clint?" Antman asked.

He made a very pained noise.

"That hurt."

Natasha smiled. Well, she had a lot of Maria in her alright, but she also definitely had some of her in there as well.

Xxxx

As everyone was just standing there, looking at the glass platform, Natasha took one step forward. The chance to see Maria and Kaelan, if just for one second, was more than enough.

“I’ll do it.”

Before she could take one more though, a hand on her top pulled her back.

Nicky.

Natasha froze.

This had a huge probability of going ridiculously wrong. The chances of her not coming back were real. And she was just gonna go and leave Nicky behind?

What the hell was wrong with her.

None of the avengers said anything as she stared at her daughter’s eyes, worry clear there, a sort of desperation that Natasha hadn’t seen in years. She was the cause of that. She was the reason her daughter’s hand was gripping her shirt with fear. She didn’t even have to say anything; the silence and emotion on her face was more than enough.

Maria would not have made this mistake. Would not have so willingly offer herself up when Nicky still needed her.

It should have been her. It’d been a while since she actively thought that, but it was true, wasn’t it? Maria would have… Maria...

“I…”

“I’m game. I’ll do it.” Clint offered himself up, interrupting whatever stupid excuse she’d have come up with.

Natasha looked at him; he just nodded.

Taking one step back again, Nicky wrapped her arms tightly around her torso, and Natasha put her own arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

I’m sorry, she wanted to say. But no words came out.

As she watched Clint go up the steps, she held her breath.

5

4

3

2

1

Back. He was back.

She ran towards him, and this time Nicky didn’t stop her; she was right there with her.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. You okay?” she asked, wanting to ask so many other things, but holding herself back.

“Yeah. It worked, Nat. It worked.” he said, eyes meeting hers right on. A light shining fiercely there. A hope so strong, that Natasha’s heart started to beat faster.

Her daughter’s hand was gripping her arm tightly.

“It worked?”

“We’ll get them back, Nat.”

“All of them.”

“All of them.” The answer didn’t just come from Clint, but from everyone in the room. Natasha looked around. At her family, determinated faces, a united front with one goal. Saving the ones they loved. Saving the whole universe.

She smiled, tears in her eyes.

“Let’s do this.”

Xxxx

“You guys look very sad right now.”

From her uncomfortable position on top of the table she and Tony decided to have an impromptu nap on, Natasha raised her head to look at her daughter

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re as tactful as your mama.” Tony’s voice came from her side, but he didn’t move at all.

“And as smart.” Nicky said in a voice that brook no argument, making the three adults in the room move to look at her properly.

“Not that I doubt it, but what?” Tony asked.

“Well, genius.” the sarcasm in her voice was too much and Natasha had to cough not to laugh.

“Yeah, little Hill?”

“You didn’t realize that, if you pick the right year, there are three stones in New York, did you?”

Silence.

Wait… what?

“What?!” Tony jumped off of the table, along with Nat and Bruce.

“Shut the front door!”

Nicky rolled her eyes, a smirk on her lips.

“And you call yourselves superheroes.”

That little smirk, that light in her eyes, Nat could see, made the whole room relax.

That was her girl.

Xxxx

They were all there, up in the glass platform already. Except her.

Natasha was standing with Nicky. Her hand gripping hers so tightly, that Nat was sure she must be hurting, but she didn’t show. She knew what could happen… she sniffed to get rid of the tears gathering in her eyes.

“Momma?”

Closing her eyes quickly, Natasha opened them and turned to hug her daughter as tightly as she could.

“It’ll work out, baby.” She said, fiercely. “Mama will be back soon, with your brother, okay?”

“And you, momma. It has to be all of us. We’re a team, remember? You said so.”

Natasha squeezed her tighter.

Silence.

“Yeah. We’re a team.”

“You’re coming back.”

It was an affirmative, not a question, but Natasha would not know the answer even if it was.

She squeezed her tighter.

“Momma?”

“We’ll succeed, okay?” She said, pulling back to kiss Nick’s cheek, but refusing to meet her eye.

“Momma?”

“You stay here, we’ll be back before you know it.” She said, caressing her cheek and kissing her forehead before getting up.

Natasha turned her back, tears running down her cheeks now.

“I love you.”

She stopped at her place beside Clint and finally turned to meet Nicky’s teary eyes.

“I love you too, baby. It will work.”

She said loudly.

“It will work.” Her daughter repeated, and with a last tight smile, without moving her gaze, they were gone.

Xxxx

A soul for a soul. So this was how it was gonna end… It’s wasn’t too bad, exchanging her life for those she loved. She couldn’t leave Clint to die. As she looked at Clint, she tried to push the image of Nicky’s teary eyed face from her mind.

“I guess we do.”

“I’m starting to think we’re thinking of different people here, Natasha.”

A raised eyebrow from her side, a slight foot movement from his, and they were off. It was that day in Japan once more. running, punching, tripping, and somehow, they were both dangling off the damn cliff. Clint holding on to Natasha so she wouldn’t fall.

“Come on, Nat! This makes no sense!”

“How doesn’t it?!”

“All I’ve done, Nat! How can I face Laura and my children like this?!” he shouted.

“Don’t be a coward, Clint! They will love you regardless! Don’t run from your mistakes! You taught me that!” she said, and immediately regretted it.

Natasha closed her eyes, the hand gripping her arm tightening.

“Have I taught you that? Am I really the one running here, Nat?” His voice was quieter now, but it was ringing louder than a shout in her ears.

She shook her head. It should have been her; it would be her. Natasha had screwed up. She did everything wrong. Maria would do it right. Her daughter wouldn’t be alone. She had her uncles and aunts. She’d have Maria.

It should have been her.

“What if it doesn’t work, Nat? Nicky will need you!”

“If this doesn’t work, we’ll be as good as dead anyway!”

“No, we won’t! You told me not to leave her, you don’t get to go ahead and do it well, Nat!”

“I’ve been surviving, Clint. Not living. I can’t carry on without her, Clint. I can’t!” she cried out. “If this doesn’t work, if I can’t bring them back … I don’t know how I didn’t the first time! I’ll lose it, Clint!”

“No you won’t! Nicky knows you won’t, I know you won’t… You’re stronger than me, Nat. You’re stronger than all of us… You could have lifted that damn hammer if you’d tried!”

She shook her head at that, tears running freely on her face. Maria had told her that once. She still didn’t believe it.

“And what if we do it, Nat?! What if they come back? How do I look Maria in the eye, and tell her I let you jump to your death?!”

She closed her eyes. She couldn’t imagine Maria’s face in pain. No.

“How do I tell Laura?!”

“You have a daughter that’s ALIVE, Nat! ALIVE!” He screamed and Natasha’s heart clenched. “If our positions were reversed, would you let me jump?!”

“Bu-“

“No! Nicky needs you, Nat… Maria and Kaelan will need you too… They already lost their parents once, Nat…”

Natasha laughed out of despair. She couldn’t do it… It should have been her, but to cause this much pain to Nicky… to Maria, to Kaelan. She couldn’t. Damn Barton, for making her think.

“Fuck you, Barton…”

Nicky, I’m so sorry for what I almost did… Maria, Kaelan…

“If Laura kills me for this, I’m punching you in the afterlife!” Natasha screamed, hand tightening on his arm as she prepared to climb back.

Clint laughed, a teary and desperate sound.

“Yeah, you do that.”

Looking in his eyes again, Natasha put a foot on the hill, to get impulse.

“Come on, Nat.”

“Love you, brother.”

“I love you too, sis.”

Push.

Stone crumbled.

Loose hand.

Fall.

Natasha only realized what was happening because of the horror in Clint’s eyes. She didn’t hear his scream. Didn’t feel the wind on her back.

Nicky…

Kaelan…

Maria…

I’m sorry.

Xxxx

The sound of Nicky’s scream would forever stay with all of the Avengers, of that they were very much sure. The punches she threw on Clint’s chest were nothing, nothing compared to the hole he felt inside. They were nothing compared to the complete and utter destruction they saw in her eyes.

As they gathered around to snap the damn fingers, she wouldn’t leave Steve’s side. Glued to him as if he was the only thing keeping her up. And he probably was. Tears in everyone’s eyes.

Birds. Plants.

It worked.

And then it was a mess and they were fighting Thanos again.

“Where is Nicky!?” Clint shouted into his comms.

“She’s safe! Tony, get her away from here! To a quinjet to her house, go!” Steve screamed back.

“Laura will be there, tell her to go!” Clint shouted back.

“Will do!”

He was gonna save her. He had to.

As portals started appearing left and right, and a gigantic Hellicarrier showed up, Clint felt a huge wave of relief, but also an even bigger weight on his shoulders.

Maria.

Fuck.

Xxxx

As she observed the field beneath her, barking orders left and right, Maria zeroed in on the little group of superheroes at the front.

No redheads.

Well, her sight wasn’t that good. It was quite far away.

She ordered people to stand at the ready and prepare to engage, making sure all hands were at the proper stations, before tapping in her comms.

“Nat?”

She asked, trying to keep her voice from showing her longing to hear her wife.

Silence.

Her hand started to shake. She closed them into fists, crossing her arms.

“Steve! Clint! Where's Nat?”

They were silent, and Maria stopped all movement.

“Clint?”

Silence.

“BARTON! ROGERS!”

No answer.

“Stark? Thor? Bruce?”

No one answered her.

That in itself was all the answer she needed. The one answer she didn’t ever want to have.

“Maria... I-” Steve started, but she interrupted him.

“Don't." Her voice was numb. Devoid of any emotion. She kept looking ahead, at the war waging under her, but it meant nothing anymore.

Natasha... Nat was...

She closed her eyes, a ringing sounding in her ear so loud that it made everything else fade away.

She started to feel dizzy, a sense of out of body experience taking over her. Why shouldn't she leave? Why shouldn't she go and, hopefully, meet Natasha in whatever it was that came after this? What was the point in coming back if her wife, the one who has made sure she was happier than she'd ever been, was gone? What was the point?

There was none.

She felt her knees buckle. Her body and mind were screaming at her to just give up. Her heart was broken and bleeding and just begging to see Natasha again.

She let go.

But before she could actually fall, before she could reach the ground and just let it all just go away, two arms grabbed her around the waist.

She tried to fight it, eyes still closed but the ringing started to lower in volume. She suddenly became aware of far too many voices in her ear screaming her name, pleading for her to respond, to talk.

She didn't wanna talk.

"Maria."

Coulson. The arms around her, a voice not in her ear but by her side.

She gasped.

"Maria, Nicky and Kaelan are at home, waiting for you to go back after this.” His voice was fast and quiet, but starting to make sense. “The Avengers need you right now. The Universe needs you present. We need you to be strong just a little longer."

Her kids. They were both alive. She had to make sure they remained that way. But...Nat...

Nat...

She opened her eyes to look at her best friend, the tears that somehow gathered there making it harder to see. By how close they were, though, she could see his eyes were red, and his whole expression was that of pain.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

She tried again.

"Nat…" she said. Or tried to, she wasn't sure that the sounds she managed to produce could count as a word.

The voices in her ear went quiet.

"I know." Phil said, voice low. After a beat he continued "Nicky and Kaelan, Maria. They're waiting for you."

Maria closed her eyes and shook her head. She had seen out of the corner of her eyes everyone in the Hellicarrier looking at them. She must have been louder than she thought. She could feel their sympathy. She didn't want their sympathy. She wanted her wife.

"They are waiting for their mums. Together." Maria rasped out. Her voice hollower than ever before.

"You're not alone, Maria."

Everyone in their comms repeated the sentiment, Nick's voice resounding louder than everyone else’s.

"For Nicky and Kaelan, Hill."

She opened her eyes and looked around. Everyone was waiting for her. Waiting for her orders, for her to get herself together as a war waged on down on Earth.

'Come on, commander' she heard her wife's voice, saw her face. 'Kick them to hell and back'

She squared her shoulders and put her hands behind her back, taking one step away from Phil with a nod. Her body was still shaking, her heart still broken. But there'd be a time for this. A time to grieve. Now she had to make sure there'd be a tomorrow for her kids. Her friends. Her family.

"For Nicky and Kaelan. For... Natasha." she whispered, and Phil nodded at her.

She looked at the room at large. She took a deep, shaky, breath.

"To your stations, agents. Rain it down on them. Protect our people. Now!" she barked the orders, and everyone turned around, fire in their eyes. She let muscle memory take over her, let the years and years of command take control in this hour of need.

She'd break down later.

Xxxx

Steve looked at the stones, and looked at what he could have.

He could give them all back, go back to the 70s and stay there... he could just live the rest of his life with Peggy. But then, he stopped. He remembered. He remembered Maria's face as she saw Natasha walking down the aisle. He remembered Maria's kind smile when she put the lasagna on the table. He remembered Kaelan and Nicky running around the backyard, laughing and shouting and just being kids. All the Avengers together on that house, just being friends. Being a family.

He remembered Natasha's expression of pure and unaltered joy after so much pain and suffering. He remembered the joy of the two kids at having two mothers that loved them. The pain they went through when they lost their biological parents. He remembered all of it. He could see it as clearly as the mountain in front of him.

And he couldn't do that. He couldn't alter the future.

He knew what he had to do.

Xxxx

“A soul for a soul.”

Hollow eyes stared back at him.

The skeletal face nodded, ever so slightly

“A soul for a soul.”

Xxxx

[dontcallmecarrie]

The Reunion

gdi I forgot how much I hate writer’s block here have a self-indulgent scene from That One AU I Have Way Too Much Fun Remixing

Tony felt the way reality was shifting [heard it in the way the symphony of the universe switched key signatures for just a second, while something deep in his bones resonated—] and his breath caught in his throat because the last time he’d felt a disturbance like this, his deadbeat dad had ended up crashing back into his life. 

The disappointment had been unreal: everyone else had expected him to be among the throng of people gawking and welcoming Howard back with a smile, but it’d taken all he had to keep a straight face because he’d felt that energy, and he’d hoped—

But no matter. Even if he couldn’t help but feel that same hope rising again, because it was happening again and the disturbance had his mom written all over it. Only, this time, Tony didn’t think twice before dropping everything as he raced to where the portal was forming and not caring about how rude he was being to the people he’d all but shoved out of his way, or left in his wake. 

It was worth it, because even if he’d probably pissed off quite a few people, it also meant he was one of, if not the first people to see Maria Stark rolling out of a hole in the fabric of reality with a sharp smile and an achingly familiar laugh. 

The appearance of a hooded man with a silver arm wasn’t what Tony’d expected, but he’d take it. Especially because the portal closed immediately afterwards, and his mom caught sight of him and he was immediately enveloped in a hug that had him tearing up because oh gods, last time he’d seen his mom was literally over half a lifetime ago—

“I take it this is the dimension you’re aiming for, Maria?” The hooded stranger asked wryly, and with that, they finally broke apart.

“Yes, it is.” She replied. Her face grew slightly shadowed as she looked at Tony again, and her voice sobered. “It took us a while, but we’re finally home.”

———

Tony would be the first to admit he’d always been more of a mama’s boy. It hadn’t come up until his asshole father had shown up again in his life, but it wasn’t until his mom shifted protectively in front of the stranger that he realized just how far it went— because it meant that he didn’t hesitate to back her up, when SHIELD showed up and started to run about like headless chickens. 

And if he was just a tad bit smug that his mom had rolled with the ‘crash-landed the future’ where his dad had stumbled and flailed about, well, that was just another reason to stick around. 

Unfortunately, however, that didn’t mean the situation was a bit of a headache. Something about how the new guy was a ‘Winter Soldier’? It’d been funny seeing SHIELD scrambling at first, sure. The moment JARVIS alerted him about snipers being dispatched, however, was another story: Tony had been hard-pressed to keep things from going to hell in a handbasket because between the entirety of SHIELD and his mom, he knew who he’d bet on coming out on top— and it wouldn’t be pretty.

It only made his mood even worse, because defusing the situation was a pain in the ass even without acknowledging the whole ‘so both your parents time-traveled’ thing, or the ‘your mom messed around with the fabric of reality with nothing but her bare hands’ thing, or...well, the list went on, really. 

But it was worth it. 

———

Steve Rogers had a very good idea of just how convoluted Tony’s relationship with his family was, even before Howard had somehow landed on the tarmac of SHIELD’s Helicarrier. He’d had a front-row seat of the chaos and drama that had ensued, and if he hadn’t known Tony he would’ve gotten a headache even worse than the one he already had, just watching the two Starks interact. 

This latest development, however, blew it all out of the water. If Steve didn’t know and care for the people involved, he would’ve been highly entertained by just how things were playing out, seeing the stark— ha, accidental pun— difference between the way Tony acted around his father, as compared to his mother. 

As it was, however, Steve couldn’t help but feel at least a little bad for Howard: the difference was really that obvious. Where Tony had constantly brushed off every attempt to catch up with his father, or straightened up and closed himself off, with his mom he was...well, the exact opposite. It was heartening to see just how ferociously he defended the stranger who’d accompanied his mother, simply because she’d asked, and the ease with which he’d extended a hand to the man only compounded it. 

there’s probably more to this but guess who ran out of steam and probably needs to sleep

[averagemarvelbitch]

Undercover Love / STONY

Summary: The hospital bills keep on coming and Steve doesn’t know how to help his mother. He decides the army is his best bet. Destiny has a different idea, though, and puts Dr. Erskine and Project Rebirth on his path. Soon, he becomes Captain America and a special forces SHIELD agent with a dream team, ready to take on even the most dangerous missions.

A few years later, Director Carter’s nephew is kidnapped by the Ten Rings and it’s Captain America and the Avengers to the rescue! Falling in love with said nephew wasn’t on Steve’s plans, but he isn’t complaining.

Director Carter might complain. If she ever finds out.

TAGS: Secret Agents AU / Stony / Alternate Universe

Chapters: 4/?

Read on AO3

---

Margaret Carter was proud to say that she had lived a very eventful and interesting life. She had become an agent of the Strategic Scientific Reserve in a time when woman were relegated to answering phones and taking messages, quickly proving her worth in every field mission and soon rising to become one of the most prominent agents in the history of said agency. Then, when the SSR ended, she joined her old friend, Howard Stark, and founded the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistic Division, also known as SHIELD, a peacekeeping organization whose primary goal was making the world a better place and fighting those who sought to destroy it. She had worked hard and relentlessly all her life, always focused on her work as the Director of SHIELD, making no time for love or romance. Margaret had never much cared about such things, had never really dreamed of a white picket fence with a lovely wife and a couple of children playing in the yard, not even when her darling Angie had been alive, God bless her soul. She simply did not have the time or the inclination to love and care for a child as a mother should. And she wholeheartedly believed that until the day Anthony Stark had been born.

Anthony had arrived on a Thursday, in the middle of one of the worst thunderstorms Malibu had seen in years. Peggy had arrived a few hours after the birth, absolutely soaking wet despite the umbrella poor Jarvis held for her all the way to the door.

“By God, Howard, how you can live in this godforsaken place is frankly beyond me”, she had complained, taking her shoes off at the door and graciously accepting a towel from Jarvis.

“Trust me, Peg, you’ll change your mind once the sun comes up and you see the beautiful view of the beach. There’s nothing like it”, Howard replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek with a smile that could light up an entire room.

“I doubt it. Now, where is my godson?”

During her pregnancy, Maria Stark had fallen victim to the newest tendency amongst the rich socialites of California: the all natural birth. She had insisted that little Anthony should be born in their home, surrounded by his loved ones as opposed to a hospital full of loud machines and strangers. She had nearly driven her husband insane with worry and, despite his very passionate speeches about her safety as well as the baby’s, she’d had the final word on the matter. And so, Anthony had been born in the mansion’s master bedroom, with the help of a very competent midwife and under Anna Jarvis’ watchful eye. Margaret heard the unhappy wails of the baby before she and Howard had even entered the room. The ever proper Maria held the baby awkwardly in her arms, looking nothing like the very composed socialite Margaret knew her to be, her eyes dropping lightly most likely from the tiredness brought by the very difficult birth.

“Would you like to hold him?” Maria asked in greeting as soon as her tired eyes landed on Margaret, carefully lifting the small, blue bundle in her arms in the brunette’s direction. She accepted the baby, cradling his head as she raised him closer to her own face.

“Hello, my darling Anthony. I’m your aunt Peggy”, she whispered softly to the baby, whose wails soon turned to quiet whimpers as he watched the beautiful woman with his big, brown eyes, “I’m the one you come to when your father is being terribly stupid. You’ll notice it tends to happen with surprising frequency”, she explained to the newborn baby, earning a faint laugh from Maria and a very annoyed hey from Howard himself. Margaret, however, heard none of it, too enthralled by the baby in her arms to pay attention to anything else. I will always be here, my dear, she promised him quietly with a kind smile, for whatever you may need.

Throughout the years, Margaret kept her promise. She was there for every birthday, every Christmas and every Easter. She taught her little boy how to behave like a proper gentleman and how to make proper tea.

“This tea is hot”, a very young Tony complained, grimacing as he swallowed the sweet liquid.

“Well, of course it’s hot, my darling. It’s tea. Tea is hot”, Margaret calmly explained, taking a sip from her own cup.

“Mommy and daddy always drink cold tea, it’s called iced tea. It’s really good!”

“That is not tea, dearest. That is filthy water with sugar. This”, she said, gesturing to their cups, “is tea. I’m surprised Mr. Jarvis hasn’t taught you that”.

Tony shrugged, taking another big gulp from his cup, “He always makes a funny face when mommy and daddy drink it, though”.

She smiled. “I’ll bet he does”.

She also taught him how to stand up for himself and, of course, how to throw a proper punch, a lesson that had gotten both of them in a lot of trouble when Tony came back from school with a purple eye and a proud smile and an exasperated Jarvis right behind him, waving a paper in which she could swear she read the word suspension. She took him to zoos, and picnics, and parks. She told him stories about secret spies who fought for a better world and fell in love with sassy waitresses. She spent hours on the phone, listening as the young boy recounted his day and shared with her everything that had happened. They were inseparable, even when separated by thousands of miles, and Margaret loved the boy more than she’d ever loved anything or anyone in her entire life, including her darling Angie, which was why, when that fateful call came, she dropped everything (including a very important meeting with the Minister of Defense) and went straight to Malibu, a whole new level of anger burning inside her chest all the way there.

It had been a Wednesday and a very busy day when the call came. She had been so focused on her conversation with Agent Fury that she’d almost missed the call. She quickly answered the phone, apologizing to the young agent for the interruption while assuring him it was too important a call to miss, and almost passed out with worry when she heard her darling boy sobbing on the other end of the like.

“Tony? Tony, my darling, what’s the matter?”

“Can you come pick me up? Please, aunt Peggy? I wanna leave”, he begged between sobs.

“My darling, what’s happening? Are you hurt?”

“Daddy is angry with me and he’s scary and Jarvis is not here, please, Aunt Peggy?”

Margaret was already on her feet, telling Fury to secure her a jet right that moment while trying to calm her godson down at the same time.

“Where are you right now, dearest?”

“I’m in my room. Please, please, will you come here, please?” the child begged once more, sniffling.

“I’m on my way, my dear. I’ll be there as soon as possible, you hear me? You stay in your room, alright?”

She called Jarvis as soon as Tony hung up, desperately trying to reach the butler who did not pick up the phone. She would later find out that Jarvis was busy receiving the most disturbing news in the hospital, being held by his crying wife as the doctor explained his chances of survival. In that moment, however, she couldn’t help but curse the butler as she sat on the plane, worried sick about her darling boy who had sounded so terrified over the phone. She arrived at Malibu a few hours later, taking a cab to the mansion. Margaret wasn’t stupid. Howard and she had been friends for many years, a friendship that had started based on their mutual desire to prove their worth in a world that constantly told them they were not enough. She knew the man’s qualities and she knew his flaws. On her last visits, she had noticed how there was always a glass of scotch attached to Howard’s hand, how fast he lost his inhibition, slurring his words as he talked about lost hope and business difficulties. But, most of all, she had noticed how his eyes always seemed to narrow every time he turned his attention to Anthony.

Margaret entered the mansion without as much as a greeting to whoever had opened the door, marching purposefully up the stairs and straight to her godson’s bedroom. From the end of the corridor, she saw Howard banging his hand on the door of said bedroom, screaming obscenities, a bottle of scotch securely on his hand. He barely had time to turn his head towards the sound of clacking high heels on the wooden floor before he felt his nose break under Margaret’s fist. Howard fell backwards like a sack of potatoes and did not move anymore. The maid standing behind him screamed, hands on each side of her face, eyes wide in terror.

“That is quite enough of screaming, thank you very much”, Margaret reprehended the women, who kept staring at her like she had just grown another head, “Take Howard to his bedroom and make sure to leave some aspirin by his bedside, I’m sure he’ll need it later”.

She knocked softly on the door. “Anthony? Everything is alright now, my darling. Open the door”.

She heard the lock turning and gasped when the door opened, revealing her little boy. Anthony had a very red mark the size of a hand in his right cheek and the skin around his right eye was slowly turning purple. Margaret wanted to scream. She wanted to march into Howard’s bedroom and tear him limb by limb. She wanted to take Anthony away from that house and keep him safe and sound. Instead, she did the only thing she could do. She scooped the young boy in her arms, whispering soothing words in his ear as he cried, scared and confused as to why his father, the man who was supposed to love and protect him, would cause him such suffering. Margaret stayed there the whole afternoon, holding the little boy in her arms until Jarvis arrived. He had heard from the maid what had transpired in his absence and went straight for the little boy’s room, quickly taking him from his godmother’s arms, apologizing to his young sir for not being there when he had needed him most. His words were calm and soothing, but Margaret could see the anger burning in his eyes. It was good to know she wasn’t the only one enraged by what had happened.

Later that night, she and Howard talked. She shouted at him, her anger getting the best of her, even going as far as threatening to take Anthony away from them. And that was when everything changed. Howard stood up from his chair, a cold expression in his face as he informed Margaret that, should she try such thing, he would have no problem exposing her preferences to the public. She knew exactly what he meant, although it was hard to believe a man she had once called friend would use such thing against her. It would bring me no pleasure, Peggy, he had said in a firm tone, but I’d do it. That boy will carry my legacy and you will not take him from me, you hear me? And so, that day, Margaret and Howard’s friendship had ended. The Director of SHIELD knew she stood no chance. The world wasn’t yet ready to embrace the love between two women and should word of her love life get out, Margaret would lose everything she had fought for her entire life, including access to her darling Anthony. That day, Howard promised to never again lay a hand on the boy, but she knew that wasn’t enough. She could see the man her friend had become; his cold eyes said it all. She knew there would be other forms of abuse and she would have to watch, helpless, as this shell of a once great man destroyed her darling boy’s spirits, unable to protect him from it. That day, Margaret’s heart broke in a thousand pieces, never to be fixed again.

And so the years had passed as she watched the abused bestowed upon her godson. Anthony, however, never once lost his natural glow. He stood his ground, staring at his father in defiance, never once wavering. Margaret could not be more proud of her darling boy. But as Anthony grew, his sense of self worth diminished. He thought of himself as unlovable. After all, if his own parents did not care for him, then how could anyone else? And no matter what Margaret or Jarvis or Ana did, they could not convince the young boy that he was loved and it broke their hearts a little bit more every day. As time went by, Jarvis passed away, Anna soon following him. Anthony was sent to a boarding school, where he spent every holiday season alone. At first, he would call his godmother every day. After a while, the calls became rarer and rarer until one day they simply stopped coming. And Margaret wept, unable to do anything but watch her boy from afar. She sent him cards and gifts for him birthday and Christmas. She called frequently, although Anthony rarely answered. She had expressed just how proud she was of him when he joined MIT at fifteen and stood there in the middle of the crowd, applauding him when he received his diploma, his parents nowhere to be found. She was there to hold his hand as people from all around the country paid their respects to Maria and Howard Stark. What a privilege it must have been to be raised by such incredible people, they would say and Anthony would nod, trying so very hard to hold the tears that threatened to fall from his big, brown eyes. Despite her best efforts, Margaret was unable to shield her darling boy of the horribleness of the world and she hated herself for it.

---

Margaret was walking from one side to the other, the clack of her high heels hitting the cold floor echoing through the empty corridor.

“They are late”, she complained, her English accent much more accentuated, as it usually happened when she was angry or nervous.

Before Agent Hill could answer, the doors on the far side of the corridor opened to reveal a very dirty Anthony on a wheelchair, followed closely by his Lieutenant friend and the Captain himself. Margaret quickly walked towards her godson, kissing his bandaged forehead carefully.

“My darling boy, you are the reason half my hair has gone white”, she said with a smile and tears in her eyes. Anthony smiled back at her.

“Sorry, auntie. Oh, and, next time, please send a better team? I had to do all the work myself”, he complained halfheartedly.

Margaret shook her head with a quiet laugh, kissing his forehead once more before letting Rhodes take him to the bedroom, “I’ll be with you in a minute, Anthony”, she promised, watching both man disappear into the corridor before turning to Steve, a very serious expression in her face, “I received your report, Captain. It seems we’ve both come to the same conclusions”.

“The Lieutenant Colonel was the one who brought it up, ma’am. But he doesn’t believe the leak came from the soldiers or anyone in the Air Base”.

“I agree. The Ten Rings were too well informed. I believe someone very powerful paid them to eliminate my godson. I have my suspicions, but I can’t be certain”, she said with a thoughtful expression, glancing to the room where Anthony and Rhodes were, “Did Anthony see your faces?”

“No, ma’am. The Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and I remained with our faces covered the entire time. The Black Widow, however, was exposed”.

“Good. Romanoff is an excellent spy and I have a job that she would perfect for. You three, however, will have a different mission. I believe that whoever made an attempt on my godson’s life will most likely try again. He must be watched carefully. However, knowing Anthony as I do, he will outright refuse a bodyguard”, she explained, and then smiled at the Captain, “Tell me, Rogers, have you ever gone to college?”

---

Leave a comment and/or ask to be tagged // Feed my caffeine addiction

[swanqueeneverafter]

After The Sunset, Pt.7

Enchanted Forest. Past. Tavern. (Will sits at a table near the window as Marian pours him a drink.) Will: (Shaking his head:) "I don't understand, you're of noble birth, why would you give it all up for Robin?" Marian: (Chuckles:) "Believe it or not, your fearless leader is also of noble birth. When he returned from war to find everything stolen from him, Robin vowed to take it all back." Will: "So you know what he is, and what he does. Yet you still-" Marian: "There's good in him, Will. When you see the good in someone, you don't just give up on them, especially if they don't see it themselves." Will: (Thinks a moment, and then:) "Nah, I'm sorry, but if you turned him in right now, you could collect the reward, forget this tavern and be sitting pretty for the rest of your life." Marian: (Smiles:) "I spent most of my life living in comfort, but I only came alive when I met Robin. I just pray that you live long enough to know what I do." Will: "Oh aye, and what's that?" Marian: "That when you find true love, you fight for it. Every day." (With that, Marian turns and leaves Will to his thoughts. Catching his eye, Marian smiles to Robin who is standing behind the bar as she passes. Robin returns the smile until Little John blocks his view.) Robin: “Unless you're here for a pint, Little John, the answer's ‘No.’” Little John: “I have a fresh lead. King Midas' carriage is passing through town tomorrow, and he'll only have a few of his royal guards with him.” Robin: “I’ve already agreed to do Will’s job despite my better judgement. Now you want us to rob a man who could literally turn us all into statues?” Little John: “But you're not a barkeep. You're a thief. Risk is what being a thief is all about!” (The Sheriff enters.) The Sheriff: “Well, I had to see this for myself. Robin of Locksley walking the straight and narrow. Nice apron. (To Marian:) M'lady.” Marian: “Sheriff.” Robin: “What can I do for you, Nottingham?” The Sheriff: “Hm. What can you do for me? (Grabs a tankard, walks behind the bar and pours himself a drink:) Well, for starters, your taxes are overdue.” Robin: “I need time.” The Sheriff: (Takes a long pull of his drink, then leans against the bar:) “Well, because I'm in a generous mood, I'm giving you two days. After that, I'll have no choice but to shutter your tavern and throw you in debtor's prison. And poor old Marian here will have no arms to hold her but mine.” Robin: “She'd never be with you.” Marian: “I can speak for myself. (To The Sheriff:) “I'd never be with you.” The Sheriff: “Well, when you are on the street and your husband is in jail, perhaps you'll see my appeal.” Robin: “I'll find your money. Somehow.” The Sheriff: “Really? Two days.” (He leaves.)

Wonderland. Past. Night. (Tiana has been walking for hours, with little success.) Tiana: "Ugh, that charlatan. There's no such thing as a red crow. (Just then, a crow caws above her:) Huh." (As the bird takes flight, Tiana decides to follow.) The Crimson Crow Tavern. Exterior. (The crow lands atop the sign for the tavern which Tiana reads before heading inside.) The Crimson Crow Tavern. Interior. (Entering, Tiana moves cautiously through the tavern before deciding she's seen enough. As she attempts to leave, a bearded man blocks her path.) Bearded Man: “Well, I guess the auction fell short, Princess. But since you're here, I think I'll take those earrings at a severe discount.” (Tiana backs away, clutching her earrings when a man beside her draws his sword.) Prince Marias: (Pointing his sword at the Bearded Man:) “Why not bow and show some respect?” Bearded Man: “Well, she's barely a princess.” Prince Marias: “But she's still a lady, is she not? If no manners are shown, perhaps I'll hold my own auction. Your legs should get a few coins, seeing as they'll soon be half off. (Thinking better of things, the Bearded Man bows slightly towards Tiana before turning and leaving the tavern:) Prince Marias at your service. (Sheathes his sword:) But please, call me Robert.” (Prince Marias kisses Tiana’s hand as he bows.) Tiana: “Well, I'm quite grateful for you stepping in, but I'm afraid I'm not deserving of all this from a nobleman.” Prince Marias: “It's me who hopes to be deserving. To fend off a tipsy rogue is simple, but to learn what has led our paths to cross, well, that requires a perilous path few are brave enough to take on in a tavern such as this. Perhaps you’ll join me for dinner?” (Tiana, taken aback by this, simply smiles and nods her assent.)

Enchanted Forest. Past. Forbidden Fortress. (Will, his dagger drawn ready, walks through the halls while Robin readies his men.) Robin Hood: “Maleficent traffics in the darkest of magic. Do not touch anything. We're here for one thing and one thing only, the gold.” Will: “The gold's hidden behind a wall panel. Look for one quite a bit smaller than the rest. (The Merry Men spread out and split into groups to cover more ground while Will takes off alone. Walking down a long corridor, he grows frustrated in his search:) Come on. Where are you?” (Leaning down, he looks into a jar of what appear to be eyeballs. His suspicions are confirmed as one of the eyeballs turns to look at him. Straightening up, Will quickly moves away from the jar before turning to stand in front of a large wooden cabinet. Opening the doors, he looks up at the many spell books, before finally spotting what he’s been looking for. Quickly picking it up, Will looks down at the silver looking glass in his hand.)

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. Recent Past. (Emma and Regina sit waiting patiently on the couch while Henry makes his choice.) Henry: “Okay, I've narrowed it down to Star Wars: The Last Jedi... or Deadpool. Which was a huge hit.” Emma: “Why can't we watch a movie for the whole family? You always get to pick.” Henry: “Because the ‘Family Member of the Week’ gets to pick the movie.” Emma: “Yeah, but you get ‘Family Member of the Week’ every week.” Regina: “And there's a reason for that.” Emma: “Yeah, ‘cause you pick ‘Family Member of the Week’.” Regina: (Turning to her wife:) “Are you accusing me of nepotism?” Henry: “Okay, it's Deadpool. This is it. This is the greatest decision. (Loading the dvd player:) I'm so happy with this decision. That's what it's going to be.” Regina: (Still looking at Emma:) “Is there a problem?” Emma: “No, you know what, it’s fine.” Regina: (Scoffs, as Emma folds her arms:) “I don’t know what you’re so upset about. You and Henry have exactly the same taste in movies.” Emma: “‘Gina, honestly, I don’t have a problem with it, let’s just watch the movie, okay?” Regina: (Narrowing her eyes in suspicion:) “Okay, fine.” Emma: “Good.” Swan-Mills House. Exterior. Two Minutes Later. (All is quiet inside the house except for the sounds of the movie playing on the TV, when suddenly:) Regina: “Oh my god! Are you even allowed to be watching this? Henry Daniel Swan-Mills, what is the rating of this movie?! (Laughter can be heard from both Emma and Henry as Regina fails to see the funny side. Presumably reading the dvd box:) Rated R? This is an R rated movie?!” (Renewed bouts of laughter can be heard emanating from the house, followed by the sounds of hurried footsteps and the click of the television as it is switched off.) Emma & Henry: “Aww.” Regina: “That was not funny you two.” Henry: “Oh, come on, Mom. It was a little funny.” Emma: “Yeah, you should see the look on your face!” (Giggling breaks out once more and this time, Regina allows herself a smile before joining the others in their laughter.)

Enchanted Forest. Past. Merry Men's Camp. (The Merry Men sit around the campfire laughing as the chest filled with gold is opened before them.) Little John: “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your entire life?” Robin Hood: “A chest of gold cannot compare to the beauty of a woman.” Will: “Depends on the woman.” Little John: “Depends on the chest.” (Laughter breaks out again before a cool wind blows through the camp.) Maleficent: (Via disembodied voice:) “To the thieves who took from me what is not theirs. (The Merry Men stand and search the trees for any signs of the sorceress:) keep the gold if you must. It is nothing more than offal from the bowels of the earth. But return the other treasure you have stolen, for while its power is alluring, it will only bring you misery!” (The wind ceases and the campfire returns to a manageable height.) Robin Hood: (Angrily:) “My instructions were clear! Who among you disobeyed me?! (Looks around the camp at his men:) Who took this other treasure?” (Will stares at Robin, but says nothing.)

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. Present. (Emma returns home from a hard day's work and immediately calls out for her wife.) Emma: "Alright Regina, it's just you and me. Our first movie night alone and it's my pick." (Emma stands in the foyer waiting for any kind of response. Meanwhile, upstairs, upon hearing her wife's return, a devilish smile crosses Regina’s lips.) Emma: (Now climbing the stairs:) "C'mon, Gina, I've had a crappy day and all I wanna do is fall asleep watching my favourite movie with you. (Reaching the top of the stairs:) It's a classic... come out, come out wherever you are?" (Reaching the door to their bedroom, Emma curiously pushes open the door to find Regina waiting for her inside.) Emma: (Smiles broadly in the doorway:) "Why, Mrs. Swan-Mills, you're trying to seduce me." Regina: "Hm, what makes you say that?" (Walking further into the room, Emma continues to recite lines from ‘The Graduate’.) Emma: "Well, aren't you?" Regina: (Happy to continue their game:) "Why, haven't you ever seen anybody in a slip before?" Emma: (Sitting beside her on the bed:) "Yes, I have." Regina: "Well then, how could I possibly be trying to seduce you?" Emma: "I suppose when you put it like that..." Regina: "Would you like me to seduce you?" Emma: "I don't think that'll be necessary." Regina: "Emma, I want you to know, I'm available to you." Emma: "Is that so?" (Leans in and starts kissing her wife's neck.) Regina: "Mmhmm. If you want to sleep with me, I want you to know you can call me up any time you want and we'll make some kind of arrangement." Emma: "That's very kind of you." Regina: "Because I find you very attractive and any time you want-" Emma: (Kissing Regina hard on the lips:) "Enough foreplay." (With that, Emma pounces on the older woman, much to Regina's delight.)

[hekate1308]

Whole New World

More of my siren!Cas AU. Enjoy!!!

With more and more people starting to accept magic as a part of life, it slowly starts seeping into many aspects of real life.

Or maybe it would be better to say that people finally notice it.

Bobby, of course, slipped over the barrier shortly after reconnecting with Dean and meeting his now-husband and his friends. He did it effortlessly, and he can even say that it brought him luck; suddenly monsters from all around Sioux Falls bring their cars to his shop. And they’re usually pretty decent and eager for a chat.

He’s even grown used to Crowley showing up out of the blue because Dean and Cas are having a date night and he’s bored.

Fishing has become rather... different. The merfolk that showed up and scared his no-longer friend away keep appearing, apparently rather happy to have a human who likes fish as much as they do to talk to; sometimes they even bring him some so he barely has to do anything anymore.

All in all, life has become more colourful and he doesn’t mind one bit. After all, he’s even got his boy back in his life.

He’s also pretty ecstatic when Dean calls him one day and tells him he and Sam have found each other again. He always hoped they would reconcile, and soon enough, the boy lands on his doorstep again as well.

True, Bobby starts to have second thoughts after a while, simply because Sam never talks about anything magical happening to him; and he’s suspected for quite some time now that this is a thing that happens when one gets close to monsters and accepts them for what they are.

But soon his worry about Sam is swallowed by his worries about Crowley. The demon looks worse and worse every time he shows up.

He isn’t sure if he should talk to Dean about it or not; the last thing he wants to do is worry his boy; but if push comes to shove –

Luckily, one evening when Crowley zaps over, he looks back to normal.

“So, what was it, then?” Bobby asks after he’s poured them both a glass of the good stuff. “And don’t tell me you didn’t –“

“I was dying” Crowley says so matter-of-factly he has to repeat it to make Bobby understand.

Then he gets the whole story out of him.

“let me repeat that. You cold-blooded bastard were so stubborn you’d rather die than look for the company of other demons.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed” Crowley replies simply, “But I am not exactly the most friendly of beings.”

He laughs.

Not everyone can just let things be, of course. Now and then, he wakes up to graffiti around the junkyard, how he’s a monster lover and all that stuff, as if they haven’t been around for as long as humans, if not for longer.

Oh well. He’ll grow used to it.

And if he gets too annoyed, he can always move near the boys.

Bela’s working on a story in Vienna when she notices the little girl. There is nothing strange about her, except for the fact that she’s crying and now and then asking people for help but they only shake their heads and move don, looking either scared or confused.

This can only mean one thing.

There’s a supernatural explanation for all of this.

It wouldn’t be the first attempt of – may it be magic, may it be fate – inviting Bela back in. She’s grown used to it.

But somehow, this feels more momentous than the other situations she’s found herself in.

Must be the surroundings. America’s culture is all over the place, a mixture that wasn’t allowed to grow for centuries but rather forced upon the land; Europe’s is, if not older, than more consistent; and it’s only logical that Vienna, that city in love with death and yet celebrating life, that city who could celebrate Mozart and yet throw him in a pauper’s grave, is tired of her walking the line.

It’s all or nothing, now.

She thinks of the monster she’s met. She thinks of Dean and Cas, of Crowley and Gilda, of Charlie and Benny, and all the others having carved out their own home in a non-descript suburbia paradise that has no right being as idyllic as it is.

She thinks of hobglobins going through her sock drawers, of boogey men living in her cupboards, of banshees dramatically storming into her office and asking for help. All this could happen, and all this most likely will happen if she takes the step.

A few moments later, she leans down and asks the girl, “Hallo. Wie heißt du?”

She sniffles. “Mizzi.”

The traditional nickname for Maria, she realizes. She’s never been gladder that she’s fluent in German.

A few questions later, it becomes obvious why the other people ran.

Mizzi is looking for her pet basilisk.

“He’s called Sebi, and he’s really nice! Only everyone’s scared of him because of how he looks!” she wails and Bela does her best to calm her down.

Of course. The city where a stone basilisk is considered one of the sights to see when visiting the first district.

Naturally basilisks are pets here and not nuisances.

“I’m sure we’ll find... Sebi. Where did you see him last?”

Yes, she reflects as she follows Mizzi through the small streets, she definitely crossed the threshold now. She can see several shops that carry magical items, and a vampire brushes past her.

Fittingly enough, Sebi has hidden near the basilisk house, and Mizzi squeals when she sees him. “Sebi! I was so worried!” She hugs him close and even Bela has to admit it’s an adorable picture.

After that, she accompanies her home, and her mother is so thankful she offers her coffee.

“Have you...” Bela begins, then pauses a moment, unsure of how to proceed. “Have you had Sebi for long?”

“Two years now” she answers. “We were rather boringly normal, but you know how children are. Mizzi brought him home one day and decided he belonged to us now. And really, she’s utterly safe when she’s walking around with him. Most people don’t want to come near him.”

Bela nods.

“What about you? You must have had some exposure to creatures, if you were so willing to help.”

“Yes. My... best friends are a siren and his human husband.” It sounds almost stranger, coming from her lips. Friends. She’s never really had friends in her life.

“Oh, we rarely see any sirens around here. Maybe because we don’t really have an access to the sea.”

They chat some more and then she leaves, not without being cuddled by Mizzi and Sebi beforehand.

That night in her hotel room, she starts looking for real estate near Dean’s and Cas’ place.

Maybe it’s time to find a place to call home.

Just because she doesn’t want to live her life almost exclusively surrounded by monsters, it doesn’t mean that she’s going to allow discrimination to happen on her watch; Sarah has been steadfastly refusing to showcase any works of art that depicts them as despicably or only ready to be slaughtered, although she has accepted several life-like pieces the monsters who now and then drop in assure her are not demeaning in any way.

Say what you want about Pickman, he was a genius. Even if no one knows what happened to him in the end.

There are those who frankly deny monsters entry to their shops. Sarah knows better. She’s not ready to take the step and live with magic every single day, she doesn’t think she ever will be, but she can meet and greet monsters with a smile on her face, as she would every citizen.

One day, a family of phoenixes drops by, and she serves them because her employees are a bit apprehensive when it comes to monsters. Foolishly so, if you ask her.

They leave a generous tip.

She goes home smiling to herself.

Donna is sunbathing, smiling when she hears her boyfriend singing. He’s currently driving his boat around the lake, as he loves to do. Sometimes he thinks he would even if he wasn’t a selkie.

“Hello, are – oh, hello, dear.”

She opens her eyes to see the selkie Dean has taken to call her “maybe mother-in-law.” “Hello Shelly.”

“Donna. I hear he’s singing again. He does that a lot, these days.”

“He enjoys it” she says.

Shelly looks at her and shakes her head. “Oh no, my dear. The God of the seas smiled upon us when you picked up his coat. He was very lonely, before.”

She blushes.

“But I better not gush about this too much, I can see I’m embarrassing you” she says, stroking her hand. Donna soon learned after meeting Tobias that it’s a comforting gesture amongst selkies, not to be taken as condescending.

“It’s just a little too early to talk about marriage in human terms” she replies, although she has been thinking about moving in with Tobias for a while now. But they have all the time in the world.

“Cas!” Dean calls out. “Bela sent us a postcard.”

“Where from? She rushes about so much, I never know where she is.”

“Vienna. I thought she was trying to be funny, but read this.”

He passes him the card; Cas frowns a little as he sees it depicts the basilisk house in Vienna, but when he turns it around, there’s a single sentence.

See you soon, neighbours. Bela.

“Think she’ll ever lose the “u”?” Dean asks.

Cas shakes his head. “She’s British, Dean.”

“Still... if she wants to go native, she’ll have to try harder” he says lightly, even though he is beaming at the thought of another one of their friends moving near them.

Cas kisses him and the discussion comes to an end for a while.

Gilda has long since grown used to the stares. Unlike Cas, she’s never been able to hide who and what she is – there’s simply something magical about her, an aura that lets people know.

She doesn’t mind. And as long as the flowers in the shop she works at thrive, she’s more than happy.

There is a fair share of asshole customers, of course. Most days, she gets ignored once or twice when she offers help, or someone throws a snide comment her way. As if she cares. Things are better than they used to be, and she knows they will only improve. She has to believe. She’s a fairy, a creature of nature itself; and nature itself is good. There has to be good in the world for her to exist.

And so she pays no heed to the two young men who are purchasing flowers for their girlfriends and giggling behind their backs over her gown one day.

Until an older woman says sharply, “What’s so funny?”

They leave quickly after that.

“You pay them no mind, dearie” she tells Gilda as she sells her a cactus, “They’ll all learn in time, you’ll see.”

She has long given up acting surprised by her son. Crowley has always followed his own path, and for a demon, he’s turned out rather well, if she says so himself.

Still, she didn’t expect to see him collecting mandrake roots one early morning. “Crowley? What are you doing here?”

“The same as you, Mother – I’m working.”

“I can see that” she replies. And even more. Ever since the Winchesters decided to save his life, he’s been looking better and better, utterly comfortable with his place among them, and not scared to show his vulnerable side if need be.

“Bela Talbot is moving into her house by the end of next week, and I know several other monster families are interested. We need stronger protections.”

Crowley, always thinking of everything. “I could help.”

“If you wish to” he say slightly, as if they don’t have a bitter history of arguments.

Dean and Cas changed a lot by moving here.

“First of all, you don’t want to pick young ones...”

[edourado]

Hi there! So I read your first chapter of Ordinary People and let me tell you, it's everything that I didn't know I needed. I absolutely loved it and I hope there's more to come c:

Hello, darling. Thank you, so much, it means a whole lot, it really does. 

Here’s more! I used your ask to post the second chapter, hope you don’t mind. 

To everybody that liked and reblogged and showed me love in the tags: I love you, you guys are awesome ♥

Now, about this one: whenever Jon plays someone giving orders (Shane and Braxton and the dude from The Escape, hi boys) I get the feelings. One scene was shamelessly inspired by the short movie he did for BMW. Kudos if you recognize it.

Here’s Chapter 1, if you need a recap.

As always, love is my fuel.

Ordinary People, Chapter 2

He watches as his team bring the asshole down, all wrapped in his fancy hotel robe, and put him inside the van.

“Miss Allegra was apprehended by the Bravo Team, sir”, one of them men tell him. “I was just notified.”

“Excellent. Was there any trouble upstairs?”

“No, sir. He was not expecting us. The device was on the desk, the safe was empty.”

“Alright, then. Take him in and get ready to go back to home base. Let’s wrap this up.”

The men move to follow his orders and Frank wishes every mission was easy as this one.

Of course, you should never speak too soon.

Their easy target, as it turned out, had a contingency plan in place and tried to pull a Wilson Fisk on them, sending his men to surround the car.

Only Frank’s team was not as unprepared and easily sold as the FBI. They took the hostiles out and secured the device, but Omar managed to escape in a car.

Frank was forced to chase him, the team’s helicopter hovering above the fugitive. Luckily, the small Italian city doesn’t have a lot of places a car can hide from a helicopter. Luckily, it’s a shitty car. Luckily, it’s a shitty driver.

They manage to corner themselves and Frank has to jump down, gun pointing at the man driving the car (who was shaking) and Finnick Omar, with his robe, looking ridiculous on the back seat.

“Step out of the vehicle, asshole”, he ordered after telling the shaking man to kill the engine, hoping Stundner kept the bird steady and  the rope on his belt didn’t tug on him, making him lose his aim.

After the suspect was taken in for questioning (Fury wanted this one personally), Frank and his team got the all clear to go back home. Just in time, too. Karen had called him last night saying that Max was at the vet. Apparently he had eaten something from the ground during their run that morning, and gotten sick. “They’re flushing it out, and she says he’s gonna be ok, but I’m freaking out.”

“I’ll be there soon”, was all he could offer. “He’s gonna be fine.”

“He couldn’t stand up, Frank!” she went on, full on crying. “I had to ask Daniel from downstairs to help me get him in the car, and Max could barely keep his eyes open. I thought he was going to die.”

“Hey, listen. You did the right thing, he’s being taken care of, now. What else did the vet say?”

“He’s gonna have to spend the night here”, she told him, and he wanted to punch something at the sound of her voice, weak and small. “She said it was probably something he ate or drank, but I kept my eyes on him at all times. I don’t know how this happened.”

He went on to assure her that it was not her fault, that dogs eat shit from the street, that’s normal. It was just bad luck that picked something that made him sick. Before they hung up, he promised to call her as soon as he could.

Now, he boarded the company plane, that huge shield plastered everywhere, and took his phone out again.

“He’s ok”, she told him. “I’m getting off work now. The vet says he’s out of danger, but she still wants to keep him one more night, just in case.”

He sighed, relieved.

“That’s good. How are you?”

They talked for a few more minutes before the pilot arrived and they had to take off.

“I’m bringing you some of that coffee you like”, he told her, glad to listen to a chuckle before he hung up.

“How’s the wife?” asked Micro, sitting in front of him.

“She’s fine”, Frank said, distracted, looking at his phone, and then he looked up at his friend. “What?”

The look Micro gave him was a funny one.

“You’re so whipped, man.”

“The hell you talking about?”

“It’s been, what? Nine, ten years? And you’re still with the ‘we’re just friends’ bullshit?”

Frank rolled his eyes and looked out the window, inspecting as the small Italian city kept getting even smaller as they rose higher and higher from the ground.

“Don’t start.”

“You don’t start. Come on, man, let’s be real.” He closed his ever present computer and placed it on the table between them. “You practically live together. You do everything together. You share a freaking dog. You didn’t even flinch when I called her your wife just now.”

Micro has been teasing him about Karen for a few years now. Since he and Maria broke up and he adopted Max, he kept hinting that there was something more between them.

“Don’t tell me you don’t love this woman, it’s obvious to everyone.”

Well, of course he did. Karen was the closest thing he had to a family, it was impossible for him not to love her.

“I keep telling you-”

“Nah, man, don’t tell me she’s your friend. You haven’t had a serious relationship since Maria, and neither has she, since that lawyer guy. Why? Because you already are in one, with each other, you’re both just too dumb to see it.”

Frank didn’t say anything, because he didn’t have any new arguments to use, and because, maybe, Micro was a little bit right.

It has been a month since that kiss she planted on him after his birthday. They haven’t talked about it since, she acted normal the next morning, crawled on the couch and stayed there all day, nursing a hangover, making him close all the curtains in the apartment and kill all the sources of light except the tv. But he had thought about it. It felt natural, that one simple, innocent, PG-13 kiss. It would feel natural, too, for him to keep kissing her, shed their clothes and crawl into bed and under her covers. It would feel so natural that, when he didn’t, he felt heavy.

He had chalked it up to that usual explanation: Karen is a beautiful woman and he is a heterosexual man. Nothing that biology couldn’t explain.

Still. It remained there.

“I’m telling you, man”, Micro went on, opening up his celebrity gossip magazine. “Put a ring on it before someone else does. And believe you me, someone will, sooner rather than later.”

“We’re estimated to arrive in five hours, sir”, said the pilot on the intercom.

“Alright, Duarte, get us home safely”, he told the pilot from his chair.

“Yes, sir”, Duarte replied and Frank killed the line for now.

The rest of their flight was uneventful. Micro read his magazine, typed on his computer, brought him up to date on the situation on the ground (Fury was pleased with their successful capture of Omar and his device), and then dozed off, snoring in his chair.

Frank didn’t regret bringing him along when he was recruited by Shield. He was a handful, but was, without a doubt, the best man he had ever worked with.

His mind went back to Karen when the cabin was silent. And he didn’t even have time to ponder on the question Micro had raised too much. As soon as he pictured her face again, his heart beat a little faster, and the feeling of home that flared up inside him made it clear.

He was in love with her. Had been for a very fucking long time, now. He kept thinking back, trying to decide when was it that it had happened, and he couldn’t, because that feeling was there, since, apparently, always.

He texted her, asking for news on Max, but she didn’t respond. He figured she was either with him at the clinic or already home, maybe asleep.

He kicked Micro’s foot when they were about to land, waking him up, the rest of the team rousing around them..

Before he could call Karen to know where he should meet her, he had to deal with some paper work, some stuff he had to sign.

“Oh, and sir? You got a message earlier, from a… Mr. Gosnell?” his assistance checked while they walked towards his office and Frank almost froze. Micro looked at him, alarmed.

Gosnell had not taken the break up of their team lightly. Frank tried to bring him to Shield along with Micro and two more, but none of them made it pass the screening phase. The other two went back to the army, but Gosnell was discharged. He had been creating some problems for Frank ever since.

“What did he want?”

“He didn’t say, just asked when you would be back.”

“Did you tell him?”

“No, sir.”

Well. He’ll deal with that later.

It was an hour longer until he was good to go home. Walking out of his office, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called her, feeling strange and excited with the newfound knowledge about his feelings for Karen and her possible mutual feelings for him.

His blood froze inside him when the call was picked up, but it was not her voice that greeted him.

“There he is.”

Gosnell.

“We missed you, Frank”, he said in his ear.

“Where is she?” he asked, his body vibrating already.

“Now, now”, sounded Gosnell’s voice, low and menacing. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He had taken Karen. He had also poisoned Max, so the dog wouldn’t be able to defend her and Frank wouldn’t think too much of it when she didn’t answer his calls.

He wanted Shield to release Omar and the device. As it turned out, Gosnell had joined Hydra after Shield rejected him.

It didn’t take too long. He gave Frank their location and he got there with his team eight minutes later, walking in the building alone, his gun in his holster.

Karen was awake when he got there, but was having trouble keeping her eyes open. She was chained at the wrists, hanging from the ceiling, her knees grazing the floor.  

“Let me promise you this right now”, he said to Gosnell when he saw a drop of blood fall from her chin. “I’m going to kill you.”

Hi former team-mate had laughed, amused, theatrical, almost demented.

After he got from him that the sedative he had injected Karen with was going to fade, no antidote needed, Frank took his gun and shot once, right in the middle of his forehead. The body of his former friend had barely hit the ground when he was on her, lifting her in his arms, and his team was barging in, one of the men rushing to get the chains from her.

“Hey”, he whispered to her and she blinked up at him, groggy, a thin trickle of blood  staining her face from a wound in her hairline. “Hey, it’s ok, it’s over.”

“Frank”, she whispered back.

“I��m here, I’m here, I got you now.”

His hand on her face was warm and shaky, his own breathing coming hard.

Breathing out, she closed her eyes and passed out, her head tumbling back. Before he could panic, the medic Micro had waken up and brought along was there.

“It’s ok, sir. It’s just the sedative. She’s breathing and her heartbeat is ok. Temperature is good.”

Frank breathed a sigh of relief and dropped his face to hers, squeezing his eyes shut, lips against her cheek.

They were gonna be fine.

She woke up in his bed, a few hours later. There hadn’t been any need to take her to the hospital, the car had taken them straight home. There were a few people putting her apartment back together. She had put up a hell of a fight when Gosnell took her.  

“Frank?” she called.

“Hey, I’m here.”

She squeezed his hand weakly and he forgot everything he had been practicing in his head to tell her.

“Are we home?”

“Yes, we’re home, don’t worry, now.”

He had practiced. Decided he was going to give her some space, talk about feelings some other time, when she was better. He couldn’t, though. Getting up from the chair he had placed by the bed, he moved to sit by her, and she closed her eyes again, breathing deep while he caressed her face.

Frank waited until she opened her eyes again to look at him.

“Did you kill him?”

Swallowing, he nodded, wondering how she was going to react to that. Karen blinked and then nodded back.

“He said he was going to take me from you. Make you watch him kill me.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shushed her, not even wanting to think about that.

With his forehead on hers, he felt as her hand closed around one of his wrists.

“I wasn’t gonna let that happen. I’m never gonna let that happen, you hear me?”

She nodded again and he felt her breath on his lips. Leaning in, he placed another one of those kisses on her, soft and small, but full of everything he didn’t know how to articulate.

When he moved back, she looked up at him and he ran his hand on her face again, now clean from the blood that had staind it earlier.

“Nobody is ever taking you from me.”

She knew him better than he knew himself. She understood him, even when he didn’t say anything. Or when he said it indirectly. They looked at each other, not saying anything, but they both knew.

Slowly, a smile curved her mouth up and he felt it, right there. The change in them.

With that smile on her face, she blinked and said “ok”, as in “ok” to his promise, “ok” to this new change, “ok” to them.

And then a lot of things happened in quick succession. First, right when he leaned into her again, the world seemed intent on cockblocking him.

She was opening up to his kiss, both hands on his face, when there was a knock on his front door.

“Sir?”

Sighing, Frank closed his eyes and well. He figured she still has to rest, anyway.

“I’ll be right back”, he whispered against her mouth, nose bumping on hers sweetly, and she nodded, almost shy.

“Don’t take too long”. And then, with a coy expression and a tint to her cheeks, “Sir.”

Groaning, he got up and went to deal with whatever it was that needed dealing.

“What kind of lock do you want on her door?”

Second, Micro got in his way. For all his talk about him “sealing the deal”, “putting a ring on it” or whatever, he sure had an awful timing.

“Knock knock!” he announced instead of actually knocking. “I got your mutt home!”

They heard the noise of Max’s paws making their way to his bedroom and then he was jumping on the bed, Karen was opening her arms to him, cooing and petting and kissing.

“Hello, ma’am”, Micro said, walking in, catching one of her hands to kiss it. “Quite a scare you gave us. Don’t do that again.”

“I’ll try my best”, she smiled up at him.

“So the doc says the mutt is fine. He does need to have these pills, though, for a week”, he said, sitting down on a chair and tossing a box of them to Frank.

They talked for a while longer, Max enjoying the rare opportunity to be allowed on Frank’s bed, thrown dramatically over Karen’s legs while she caressed him.

Then, they had a fight.

“Oh, that reminds me”, Frank said when the team next door announced that her place was back in order, along with a new alarm system and a more secure set of locks. “I’m gonna put a tracker on your phone.”

“No, you’re not”, she said, immediately.

“Karen”, he said, his voice a warning. “Come on.”

“You come on. You’re not putting a tracker on my phone, Frank.”

“You were just taken, how are you fighting me on this?”

“We already had this discussion a year ago!”

“You were not taken a year ago.”

“I don’t care. The answer is still the same.”

They went back and forth with “how am I gonna know where you are?”, “Ask me!” “What if someone takes you again?”, “Oh, come on, what are the odds of that happening?”, “A tracker is happening, Karen”, “If you want to track someone, track Max. He’s a dog. I’m a person” for a while. Neither of them  noticed when Micro rolled his eyes, got up and walked out the door.

“Jesus. Get married already” muttered under his breath when he closed the apartment door behind himself.

She still had to sleep the rest of the sedative off and he had a report to write before they could make their new status as a couple an official thing.

When she woke up, they were all, the three of them, starving.

“What do you feel like having?” he asked, standing up by his bed while she kneeled on the mattress and put her arms around his neck.

“Hmm”, she said, driving him crazy with her lips on his jaw, hands moving around his chest. “Breakfast food.”

He smiled, angling her face to his, kissing her deeply, as if her kisses would be enough to satisfy him.

“Croissants. And cream cheese bagels. Eggs and bacon and a donut for dessert.”

Frank would love to keep this going. Let her lift his shirt off him, lie her back down and lose track of time with her, but his stomach was hurting him, she needed to eat, and Max was complaining, pulling on his pan leg with his teeth (asking to be fed or just trying to keep him from Karen, he didn’t know for sure).

“Why don’t you go get all that”, Karen suggested, hands on his face, now. She liked that and so did he. “While I take a shower, get the ‘kidnapped’ air out of me?”

“Ok”, he agreed, wrapping his arms around her for a bit longer, not yet ready to let go.

“And then we can… I don’t know. Talk, or something.”

He looked at her and she blinked at him that way she did every time she said something she knew he wasn’t going to like.

“Talk?”

Karen nodded.

“Yeah. I think we should. Don’t you?”

It was not exactly the thing he had in mind, but yeah, he figures they should.

“Ok. But you should eat something before your shower, though. Like a cracker, or something.”

He left after she had some saltines with a bit of cheese and was pouring Max’s preferred food on his plate.

Frank flew to every bakery he knew in a three block radius, Whole Foods and whatnot, and walked back home with two bags worth of every baked good he knew she preferred for breakfast. He would have to work on the eggs and bacon himself, since the one place that made her favorites, with nutmeg and low sodium salt was closed at this hour. He took bites off a banana muffin on the way, to get his stomach to quiet down.

When he opened the door again, Max was on his dog bed by the couch, chewing lazily on that meat stick thing he loved, and Karen was sitting on his favorite chair. She got up when he walked in, hair wet and combed back, looking fresh and cozy and beautiful and holy shit, how he managed to go eight years being just her friend was beyond him.   

“I got your croissants”, he said, putting the bags on the kitchen counter while she walked towards him. “Also that yogurt, with the honey and that purple flower? They had it, I thought they-”

He stopped talking when she reached him and supported her hands on his shoulders, jumping up and locking her legs around his waist. His keys fell to the floor when he moved to hold her, his face being pulled up, closing his eyes when she kissed him.

“I thought we were gonna talk?” he said when she stopped to breathe.

“We can do that later”. She ran her lips against his, a hand on his face and another around his shoulders. “Take me to bed, Frank.”

He let go of his wallet, that he still held in his left hand, and took a step towards his bedroom.

“Yes, ma’am.”

.:.

Sex with Karen felt, at the same time, as natural as breathing and mind blowingly amazing. He chalked it up to knowing each other for almost a decade, but it was like they knew what to do, they knew how to move, there was very little “experimental” time. He learned quickly and she learned quickly, and that first time with her left him addicted, like some super drug that made his brain work exclusively to give him pleasure, to give her pleasure.

And that he did.

Karen pulled on his hair and dug her nails on his skin, wrapped her legs around him tightly, moaned against his mouth while he moved inside her, his own head spinning, spinning, his own hands gripping her tightly. Frank had to close his eyes and focus when she responded to his every move and every touch and every word.  

He was pretty good at sex. He knew that. But, really, it was a whole other category when it was the two of them. He couldn’t believe he spent eight years missing out on this.

Later, when he brought her breakfast-dinner to her in bed (not so much because she was still “getting better” but because he felt the sudden need to spoil her), she was wearing one of his sweatpants and a bra.

“You know, just by looking”, he said, setting the tray full of goodies down and settling himself in front of her, each of her legs around him. “You can’t really tell how big these are.”

She laughed out loud when he tugged on the cups of her bra, dropping his face to plant a kiss on the left breast.

“You looked a lot?”

“Not a lot. Just a normal amount.”

They ate their food and he kept intercepting her hand when she moved to sneak little pieces to Max, who had sneaked in and sat by the bed looking absolutely miserable, even when they all knew he had a full stomach.

He couldn’t really say that things changed much between them after that. Other than all the sex and the fact that some PDA was part of their thing, now, it was all pretty much the same. He still picked up her groceries when shopping for himself, she still did his laundry along with hers. She still had shoes in his closet, because they didn’t fit in just hers anymore, he still stole her shampoos and creams. They still shared books.

“Frank”, she called him one day when he was standing in front of the tech team, while they measured him for a new bullet proof vest, that was supposed to be lighter, but more efficient.“I can’t get into my apartment.”

“Why not?” he asked, his arms open while some kid held his phone to his ear.

“Because I can’t remember the stupid password!” she complained. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, ma’am, it’s your apartment.”

She made an angry noise and he heard her pressing the keys again.

“This is ridiculous. I can’t get into my own home because you’re a security freak. I’m going into your place.”

“Ok.”

“Just so you know”, she said, irritated, while her keys clinged together while she opened his door. “I’m eating your chips.”

When he got home, she was sitting on his dinner table, typing away on his computer. He placed the take out dinner he had gotten on the way around her, slowly pushing the computer shut when the table was set.

“You’re done, no more work, come on”, he said softly while she bent to keep looking at the screen, typing faster.

Karen let him close the computer and move it to the couch.

“I’ve been thinking”, he said while she unwrapped the shrimp eggrolls she loved. “It doesn’t really make much sense, to have all this security installed on your place in a building like this.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you”, she nodded, chewing on her food. “These are excellent today.”

“And we’re both making more money, now, right?”

She looked at him.

“Yeah…?”

“And I know you think it’s unnecessary, but I meant what I said that day. No one is ever taking you again, so I still think you should have a good security system in place. Plus a tracker.”

“I’m not getting a fucking tracker, Frank, make your point.”

He sighed, almost amused. He’ll convince her one day.

“Why don’t we take Micro’s program and move it to a better place? Like, maybe in a neighborhood you actually like… Like the Village.”

She swallowed her food and looked at him with those eyes.

“Are you proposing we move in together?”

“We do live together already, don’t we? Only we have two of everything.”

“To the Village?”

“You’re always going on about how nice it is.”

“Frank”, she said, moving her body towards him. “Don’t tease me about the Village.”

He chuckled.

“I’m not teasing you. I’ve been looking at some listings, I think we can afford to move there. If you want.” He looked at her, feeling somewhat nervous, but hopeful. It’s no secret she doesn’t like this place, doesn’t like this building, doesn’t like this neighborhood. And they haven’t sleep in separate beds since that first night.

With a twinkle in her eyes, Karen took another bite of her eggroll and got up from her chair, slowly.

“A place with a bigger closet?”, she mused, moving towards him.

“Sure.”

“And a bathtub that doesn’t gross me out.”

He pushed his chair back when she got close to him, a hand on his shoulder.

“A nice kitchen for you to cook me dinners”, she went on, sitting on one of his legs, arm around his shoulders. “You’re always complaining about the kitchen.”

“I am.”

“What else could we have?” she asked, a hand on his face, pulling it up to hers, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe an office, so you don’t have to work on the kitchen table.”

“Hmm, good idea.”

“Oh”, he said, dropping his chopsticks to put both his arms around her. “We can even get a king size bed.”

She raised her brows and that playful smile stretched on her lips.

“We could”, she said against his mouth.

“We’re doing it, then?” he asked and she nodded, kissing him sweet and slow, wrapping her arms around him after, and he wrapped his around her, face hidden in her neck.

He heard her sigh and click her tongue.

“Damn. I hate it when my mother is right.”

Here are the deleted scenes for this one. I wrote a bunch of them. These are the ones that didn’t make the cut.