#roger gets taken at the very beginning of the story | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Shameless

Sequel to Graceless

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, dejection, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The reader attempts to move past her ruination, but is reminded of her tarnish conscience at every turn. (Regency AU, tall!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson

Note: Here we are. The sequel but not the end.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love coffee and that’s a lot and probably unhealthy. Take care. 💖

The string of the glove’s seam trails loosely from the thumb. You twist the thread, playing with it, but doing little to mend it. Even with a needle in hand, you have no whim to darn. There are many things in life that cannot be repaired no matter how you try. Occurrences which cannot be taken back.

You pull at the seam until a hole forms in it. You poke your finger through with no heed for the glove’s integrity. You detest that pair anyhow. The very same you wore… that day.

Albina lays at the foot of the bed, her head bent back over the edge as she peruses one of her novellas. Hannah and Cora disappeared ages ago and you only just heard them through the windows. They are likely causing chaos in the gardens. You hope your mother finds them and issues a reprimand for their immaturity.

The autumn thins the air as it creeps in around the window frame and you smell that discerning scent of dirt and leaves. Only a week and it feels as if the whole world has changed seasons. Your world has transformed irrevocably.

There’s a clatter and you glance over as Albina rolls onto her side. She’s always hated to be disturbed amid her stories. She huffs and falls onto her back to begin again, but the door bursts open, your two other sisters tromping through with excitement.

Albina shuts her book loudly and sighs as she sits up. You go back to your exploration of the glove, watching the thread stretch along the seam as you tug. If only that were Cora. If only you could rent her pretty hair from her pretty head. Or in the least, swat the smug grin from her lips.

You can’t even look at her. It just makes you think of him. Of how stupid you’d been. You believed his promises were meant for you but it’s only as you relive that haunting episode every night that you realise, he never proclaimed his intent for you, only alluded to a vague offer. Another mean trick.

“Lord Rogers has sent a gift,” Cora trills as she stands at the vanity, shuffling something unseen before her. Hannah stands at her side, bouncing with anticipation.

“Oh, what do you think it is?” Hannah chimes.

“Could you not unveil it in the sunroom, where there is no one reading?” Albina says as she drags herself to the edge of the bed, resting her book on her skirts.

“Could you not get your head out of those ridiculous fancies,” Cora retorts over her shoulder, “if you ever do for long enough, you might just find a husband too.”

You don’t look up. You refuse to give her the satisfaction. You haven’t missed her wandering glances, how she taunts you without even a word. She turns back to her gift and rustles beneath the thick paper.

“Oh, heavens,” she swoons and spins, “isn’t it beautiful?”

“Are those rubies?” Hannah preens.

“I think.”

“Garnet?” Albina suggests.

“No, no, surely they are rubies,” Cora insists. “Do you see?” She swirls around the room closer to you, “I must find the perfect gown to wear with this. Oh, he would fawn to see me in his ribbon, wouldn’t he, sister?”

You grip the glove tight as her figure looms over you. With your other hand, you clutch the needle, letting it jab into your palm until your eyes prick. You nod, “very beautiful.”

You stand the moment you get the words free of your dry throat. You try to smile but can only muster a strained grimace. You try to step past Cora but she moves with you.

“You’ve not even looked,” she says, “how would know how beautiful it is?”

“Cora, please.”

“No, no, have a look. It’s so elegant, isn’t it?”

You clamp your lips together. Your insides tangle painfully. Even as the tenderness leaves the bruises in your thighs, you swear they hurt just as much as the day after. You sniff.

“Please, move out of my way,” you beg.

“Oh, sister, why must you be so dour? Is that jealousy I sense?”

“No,” you snarl. Jealousy. Oh, something much deeper, something agonizing. “I said move.”

“Move? Well, it looks like I am the first to wear a title so it is me who should be issuing the orders, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Cor, you are not duchess yet,” Albina reproaches, “let her pass.”

The heat rises up your back and crawls onto your neck. You feel like you’re suffocating. You feel like the walls are closer together, as if the world is hewn in fire. It is all burning down around you.

“She is being a sour little brat about it, Al,” Cora snaps, “it isn’t fair of her to ruin my engagement. I don’t know where she ever got the idea that Lord Rogers had any mind for h–”

You don’t think. You need to get out of here. You shove Cora out of your way and stomp past her as she gasps. You drop the glove as the needle sinks further into your palm. You sweep out of the door and hurry down the corridor. You hear her, whining pitifully as you flee.

“She shoved me! She–”

“Oh, you did goad her,” Albina’s quiet scolding follows you to the stairs, “put that ribbon away, you’ll only ruin it.”

Ruin…

The word clings to you as you barrel down the stairs, as if running from your own shame and anger. You love your sister, you would never wish anything horrid on her, but you can’t help that small whisper in your mind that suggests that Lord Rogers may just treat her as cruelly as he has done you.

💙

The autumn continues its slow advance, nipping in the air and at the foliage alike. You smell the crispness as it wafts through the open window of the carriage, cooling the cluster of bodies within. Your father rides with the driver, guffawing loudly with the clop of hooves. Your mother fans herself as she needles away with her relentless critique.

…Albina, push your shoulders back; Hannah, keep your lips shut tight, you don’t need horseflies wandering in; You, fix your bonnet, it is dipping at the front; Oh, Cora, isn’t that a lovely ribbon…

You try not to mope. The more you do, the more pleasure Cora takes in her victory. You will forget it, you will go on as you’ve ever done. Dejected. You fold one hand around the other, your palm tender from the bite of the needle still wrought into your flesh.

You look up as the carriage slows. The lush green of the promenade tinges with edges of russet and patches of goldenrod. Lords and ladies stroll along the brickwork walkway, skirts swishing around languid steps, arms hooked in one another, others perched upon benches or huddled around the grand fountain at the center.

Your father climbs down as the driver unlatches the door. Your mother emerges first, her fan clapping shut sharply and knocking against the frame. Cora is second, then Albina, Hannah, and yourself. You come out behind them and feel your height all the more. You hunch and grip your wrist tight.

“Do not slouch,” your mother looks back and raps your arm with her fan, “no lord wants to walk alongside a hobbling giant.”

“Yes, mother,” you correct yourself and let your vision drift off into a vacant blur.

“Ladies,” a familiar timbre approaches with a pair of footsteps, “you’ve arrived.”

You refuse to look at Lord Rogers as he stands just along your peripheral. He greets your mother with a cordial bow of his head and shakes your father’s hand. At last, he addresses his betrothed as she wiggles in her skirts and nearly squeaks.

“Lord Rogers,” she drawls, “I wore the rubies.”

“Beautiful,” he praises, “my lady, might I request a stroll upon the promenade?”

“Aye, you may,” your father answers, volunteering himself as escort.

“Sir,” Rogers accepts elegantly and offers his arm to Cora, “and perhaps a few more daughters might care to join us?”

“They will remain with me,” your mother insists, “we would like to see the roses.”

You wait until they’ve departed to dare a peek at them. Lord Rogers struts away confidently with his arm through Cora’s. Your father trails them with his brass-tipped cane. Your ribs rack as if they might collapse in on themselves.

“Come girls, the autumn will wilt away the roses,” your mother declares, “let us make our rounds, perhaps we might have two engagements this season, hm?”

You linger behind the others. You keep your head down as you watch the toes of your boots poke out from beneath your skirts with each step. Your led by the hem of your sisters ahead of you.

As you approach the hoop of rose bushes, there is an unexpected furor. Voices trill and flutter, a booming laugh that rolls like thunder. You raise your eyes and see a blond head above a cluster of hats. You don't recognise the lord amid the clan of amused men.

"How rowdy," your mother remarks in her curmudgeon way.

She ignores the pluck of glee for the thorny tangles. Hannah and Albina give longing looks to the uproar but dutifully accompany your mother to the hedges. The eldest of your quartet pets the paling pink petals and grieves the browning at the edges.

The dullness of that moment feels like a promise. This is how life will always be for someone like you. You will never know excitement, you will only ever be a witness, a scrap of collateral left to squander.

You pretend to admire the greenery. The colours are faded and worn. Just like everything since that night. As you are.

You smell the leaves and the pollen and you're taken back to that moonlit moment. The cool air on your skin, the friction of his figure, his weight trapping you on the stone.

The leaves mesh together in a tapestry of swirling hues. You quickly dab your eyes before your tears can spill over. Those bouts come suddenly and dry up just as soon. You cannot let it take you here.

An emptiness enshrines you and you peer over to find yourself all alone. Your sisters and your mother have left you, forgotten you. Not such an unexpected plight but painful nonetheless. You turn in search of them and nearly collide with another.

You press yourself to the bushes behind you and swallow a gasp, creaking out an apology.

"Apologies, my lord, I did not see you–"

"Lady," the man greets with a courteous dip of his chin, looking down at you. Down! He is even taller than you.

The same lord with the blond hair who had a crowd raucous. You do not know him. He is rather older than any courtly debut.

"You mustn't catch yourself," he reaches around you delicately and untangles a fold of your skirt from the thorny vines, "it is too fine a dress to tarnish."

"Thank you, sir, it seems I am a bit obtuse at the moment," you force a smile.

He is very handsome. He eyes a brighter shade than even Lord Rogers and his hair even more golden. That comparison urges you back to the ground. You are still you and you cannot be so foolish as to let yourself believe contrary ever again.

"Might I–"

"I spy–"

You speak at the same time and both correct yourself. You defer and touch your lips in embarrassment, "apologies, once more, I keep treading on your toes."

"I have tough toes," he japes, "I meant to ask if I might have your name."

"Oh, yes, sir," you give him your name, "I admit I am ignorant of your own identity."

"Ah, yes, I have come from far," he grins, "Lord Thor Odinson, of Asgard."

"Asgard, why that is very far," you comment, "well, sir, it was a delight to meet you. Welcome to our homeland."

"A privilege," he returns, "if I might be so forward, as I am a stranger to this land, I would extend to you an invitation to dinner as I acquaint myself with your country. Would that be too improper?"

"Sir," you flutter your fingers at your side as you stand awkwardly before him, "I would needs ask my father."

"Yes, certainly you would, as you are unwed," he says as if untwining a riddle, "I do hope you will be permitted."

"My lord," you bow your head, "my mother…"

You look past him to your mother's fan as she beckons to you with it. Lord Odinson steps aside and extends his arm in gallant dismissal. You shift to move past him.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Allow me to thank you, lady, for entertaining my tedious conversation," he counters and you quickly flit away.

You near your mother as your other sisters crowd her. She is jibbering behind her fan, "...an ambassador," she says and snaps together the folds, "I hope you did not spoil our welcome."

"Mother?" You look at her in confusion, your cheek hot and tingling still.

"With that Lord, he did invite us to a dinner," she explains, "it would be very important for your father."

You shake your head. You don't argue. Ah, but the invitation was extended to all. Are you so foolish to think otherwise? You must shield yourself in the harsh lesson you've been taught. You are not and can never be special.

💙

The night of Lord Odinson's dinner arrives. You wear a gown of black patterned with deep green vines. Plain attire in contrast to Cora's shining scarlet silk, Alvina's buoyant blue bodice, and Hannah's deep rose sleeves. You add a simple beaded ribbon around your head, and a string of pearls around your neck.

"Dour," your mother remarks as she emerges in a tangerine satin, "ah, Cora, my darling, you look splendid. And to think, now that your engagement is public, you will be a pretty ornament on Lord Rogers' arm."

"Mother," she preens, averting her eyes in feigned modesty.

You clutch your reticule tight and glance over as you hear the approach of hooves. It is Lord Rogers' coach. The vehicle bustles towards the gates, open in expectation of him, and you look away. You can hardly bear the sight of red paint that decorates the doors.

His driver slows and breaks in the dirt. He greets your father as ever, gallant and proper. You put your teeth over your lower lip and peek up, catching the glint of Rogers' sapphire irises. His cheek dimples as his brows twitch. You swiftly rescind your gaze, favouring the dust on your slippers to him. He is as handsome as ever but to you, he is a vile cad. A demon clothed in cravat and vest.

He helps your mother first into the coach, then Cora, Hannah, Alvina, and finally yourself. He extends his gloved hand to you and you stare at his palm with disgust. You put your hand in his and step up into the vehicle. He squeezes before he lets go, a subtle tug on your skirt as you duck inside.

You sit on the bench between Albina and Hannah. You play with the strap of your reticule, focusing on it as you coil it like a snake. You only need to survive the journey to lord's manor. You've survived worse, and all at his hand.

💙

The manor is called The Nine Pillars, a rather strange name for a house, but referenced by the columns set into the stone walls. Each is topped with the facsimile of a different beast's head; a lion, a boar, a bear, a wolf, a falcon, a stallion, a bull, a viper, and an elephant. You lean over Albina to take it in, only to be nudged back to the middle.

You sigh and trail the part from the court. Attendants await your arrival at the broad steps of the manor house, the style much unlike that of the other courtly homes. The peak of the house resembles a warship overturned and the walls are without the typical white wash. It is very antiquated yet refined.

You enter the glowing hall, the glass lamps hung from the walls lit in an illuminating speckle. Voices carry from the drawing room where other guests gather and the bustle of the house staff flutters around the corridors and clamours from the kitchen. Your stole is taken by a groom and you nod in acknowledgement at his diligence. Your stomach swirls nervously.

The drawing room is a cluster of swishing skirts, flapping fans, and waggling coat tails. Your mother and father greet another older couple as your sisters disperse; Cora to show off her betrothed, Albina to whisper to Maria about her novels, and Hannah to gossip about the newest debuts. You find yourself lost before the sea of elegant figures.

You wade towards them, weaving between the bodies, looking around for any sense of welcome. Those who do see you, turn away quickly, as others pretend not to notice your towering form. You will find a place on the wall as you ever do.

"Lady," a deep voice calls but you don't bother to hear it. It cannot possibly be directed at you. It calls again, several times, before pronouncing your name. You spin to face Lord Odinson before you can retreat to your setinel against the wallpaper.

"My Lord," you greet him, "pardon me, there is much going on, I mustn't have heard you calling."

"Ah, but forgive me, it is rather uncouth to be shouting," he stops before you, "my mother always said I did blow in like a storm."

"Oh," you nod politely. You're not used to someone looking you in the eye, not without having to awkwardly contort your posture.

"She would like you, very much, I think."

"Why would you think that, my lord? You hardly know me."

"But I see you, a strong woman, built like a valkyrie. You are resilient and might I so forwardly say, resplendent."

"Sir?" You peer around, looking for an audience, for someone in collusion taking amusement from his false interest. It is always a trick.

"Again, I am the tempest, I cannot be subtle, not with a lady so stunning. Awe-inspiring. If I am the storm, you must be the sky," he remarks boldly.

You face him, a frown.

"Lady, it is a compliment," his face turns sober, "I hope I didn't overstep--"

"It is a joke. Who do you make laugh? For who am I the farce tonight?"

"Joke? Not at all. Never," he glances around the room. He is quiet as he takes in those around him. As he sees their elusive eyes and cold shoulders. "They cannot see what is right in front of them. A goddess--"

"No," you nearly sob, "no. I am not goddess." You bow your head, as you hear that same word from enough, a memory; Athena. "No sir," you put your chin up defiantly, "I will not be fooled by you."

"Fooled, my lady--"

"Excuse me," you shuffle away from him, "I need air..."

"Lady," he calls again but you elude him, delving into the crowd, marching away with head and shoulders down.

As you near the door, you hear a familiar laugh. You look to find Lord Rogers with Cora on his arm, his golden hair shining, her locks perfectly spiraled and set. He tilts his head towards her, "I call her my Athena," he says loudly, as if he knows you are listening, "for I worship her."

His eyes flick up and meet yours. You recoil and spin on your heel. Scalded, you flee into the hall and huddle into an alcove. No one would notice if you stayed out here all night.

💙

You sit among the guests at the table. The women chatter as the men speak in low voices about their business or some writ tabled in session that morning. You do neither as you're isolated in the fervor. As sherry and wine flows generously, you partake only of lemon water and loneliness.

You peer down the table and find yourself drawn to a pair of eyes. Lord Odinson. Where you expect tension or disappointment, you find only an amiable smile. He is almost dreamy as he watches you. You turn in your seat and look at Albina next to you, she's bent so far toward Hannah in her whispering that he likely cannot even see you.

You keep your gaze on the table. You will not encourage him. Lord Rogers taught you caution, he taught you your worth and not to think yourself above it. You feel suddenly sick, as if you could spew onto the table.

There is the clink of glass and someone clears their throat. The buzz around you hushes and all turn to the head of the table. You look over reluctantly. It is Lord Odinson, the host, about to make his toast. He stands, a crystal glass in hand.

"Welcome and thank you all for attending. You've all made me feel rather at home," he raises his glass and the guests mirror him. You lift yours a few seconds too late. He sets down the flute and continues, "and while you've all ingratiated me so kindly, I hope you might tolerate a little piece of my homeland."

He pauses and gestures to someone you can't see. A servant comes forward, holding a wooden box carved with symbols you don't recognise. Runes, perhaps.

"In my faith, there are the Valkyrie. They are the embodiment of female power and prestige and thus they are the keeper of our culture, of our ways. They are fertile and beautiful. So it is that each season, one lady is crowned as Valkyrie. I understand that I've come late but I am honoured to spend the season here, in your society. Thus, tonight has been more than a dinner..."

He stops as the servant opens the box. He takes out a crown of daisies wrought in gold and silver. He presents it to the room with a smile.

Cora leans forward as her eyes round in greed and the other women sit up, admiring the piece of jewelry and peeking at each other. You don't move, you stare at the wall and wait. You wonder who it will be. Maybe Cora or Maybelle and her doe eyes.

There is another lull, swollen with anticipation and intrigue. Lord Odinson gives a soft chuckle before he declares his valkyrie. No one speaks, none says a word. You blink. He speaks again.

You feel a nudge on your elbow as Albina leans towards you and whispers, "it's you."

You glance at her, then along the table. Cora's eyes are narrowed at you and Lord Rogers looks like he's chewing his own tongue. You turn your attention to Lord Odinson, trapped in surprise and disbelief.

"Yes, lady, please, come and claim your crown."

You grasp the arms of the chair and push it out as you rise. You walk stiffly, keenly aware of those watching you. You stride down the long table and near Lord Odinson. He faces you and hovers the crown over your head. You bow and he lowers it on, wiggling it to be sure it's firmly in place.

"It is I who shoulder defer to you, sweet lady," he lowers himself to a knee and bows his head, "our valkyrie."

The silence looms. You refuse to look back. You feel the stare, the disapproval, and disappointment. There's a clap and you flinch. Then another, and slowly the applause build.

Lord Odinson stands again and takes your hand, placing a kiss on your fingers. You meet his eyes, so intense you could melt.

"As I said," he keeps his timbre low, "it was not a joke."

💙

"Can I see it?" Albina asks as you go to set the crown on the narrow table.

"Oh, certainly," you turn to her. You're still burning with excitement. It's only one night, it doesn't mean anything, but it is a good night.

You hand her the crown and she takes it, admiring the craftwork with aw and showing it to Hannah as she nears. She places it on her head and rocks her shoulders.

"I am the valkyrie," she japes.

"No, I am the valkyrie," Hannah snatches the crown and dawns it.

"You are both children," Cora sneers as she shoves her ribbon of rubies into her jewelry box, "please, that lord is only here to pander to our king on his family's behalf. Nothing else."

"You're only jealous," Hannah rebukes.

"Am not," Cora stomps up and swipes the crown of daisies, "what would I need with a meaningless thing like this. Queen of what? The chimera? You don't even know what a valkyrie is."

"Nor do you," Hannah retorts.

"I do," Albina asserts, "they are an army of female warriors who lead the dead--"

"I do not give a fig," Cora flings the crown so it hits the bedframe and bounces off, "we don't believe in them here. That man is a fool."

"Oh, I saw you fawning over him, Cor," Albina goads, "don't lie. Rogers himself looked concerned."

"Fawning? Don't be silly."

You don't say a word as you go to fetch the crown from where it's fallen. You notice that one of the petals is bent out of shape. Oh, no.

"It's fine. She's right, it's just a silly crown."

"You all need to grow up," Cora insists, "as a woman soon to be married, I can see now how juvenile you lot are."

"Not married yet," Hannah snaps, "sooner the better if it means you're off."

"Charming, Hannah, I wonder why you've not had a proposal yet?"

Hannah waves her off with her hand and goes to Albina, "I'm tired. Help me out of my dress."

You turn away and set the crown on top of your own jewelry box. You take your time undoing the ribbon on your head and unclasping your pearls. You peel off your gloves and as you face the bed, you see Cora's hot glare.

"You'll see. That Lord Odinson will leave you behind and next season, you'll be on your way to a convent."

You swallow down her bitter words. Deep down, you don't doubt it. She is likely right but less than clairvoyant. You know better than any what your fate will be.

💙

You watch from the window as Cora walks in the gardens with Lord Rogers. Albina is in bed, moaning and rubbing her pelvis, as Hannah is downstairs with your mother stitching at her frame. The winds of autumn rattle the window frame and you back away, nervous to be caught observing.

You sit on the mattress and lean back against the pillow. Albina curls up on her side and faces you. You offer your hand and she latches on, squeezing. Her cramps have struck and she's already stained several shifts. Her blood has her in agony.

You don't mind keeping her company. Your own was due a week ago. You know because you've not stopped counting the days since... since Lord Rogers' proposal.

"I should hate to miss the promenade..." she mourns.

"You shouldn't miss very much," you assure her.

"Yes, but it will be cold soon. Too cold and it will snow and I will hate to go," she utters, "will you go?"

"Perhaps," you answer.

"And walk with Lord Odinson again?"

"If he wishes."

"I am certain he does. He is very friendly. Last night, when he told us of his families stronghold. About the mountains and the crossing rivers..."

"He has many stories," you agree, "and he tells them well."

"Oh, he does. He tells them for you."

"Pardon?" You nearly laugh.

"Sister, don't act clueless. He gave you his crown--"

"It was only a game."

"I do not think he plays."

"Why..."

"He always finds us on the promenade, doesn't he?"

"He is polite."

"Oh, you are stubborn."

You puff but don't argue further. She's wrong but she can't realise she is. She doesn't know what's happened, how you know for certain that he has no true intentions. That he cannot be any different than Lord Rogers.

💙

The hedges along the promenade are thinning. The roses have wilted away and the greenery curls and recedes. You wear a pair of lambskin gloves and an unlined cloak. It isn’t cold enough yet for fur.

As he does most days, Lord Rogers approaches to greet your family. Your mother and father bow to him briefly and bid their best before strolling off to meet with their peers. The betrothed couple will lead the way, as you walk behind with Hannah. Albina remains abed at home, her presence sorely missed as Hannah yawns and makes faces at the duke and his engaged.

You resist the urge to look around, to search for the man who crowned you valkyrie, the same who appeared at your side nearly every day. You restrained yourself from depending on his presence, from longing for it. He is a fleeting acquaintance, destined to return to Asgard one day. You shouldn't think so much of him.

“I wish we could have a summer wedding,” Lord Rogers declares, his voice raised loud enough for you to hear.

“But, my lord, that is so far away,” Cora protests, “so long as we wed before the snows, I will be content.”

“You, content. I am not mistaken, I know the sort of wife I’ve chosen,” he chides, “you only relish in that you might wear velvet.”

“Not at all my lord. I relish that I should marry you,” she preens, her arm hooked in his firmly.

You stare at the linking of their bodies. You remember the way he held you down, the way he cooed and coaxed, how he so softly coerced you. You should fear for your own sister, yet their misconceptions may be mutual.

“My ladies,” Lord Odinson’s voice precedes him and he steps up beside you, “and my lord. You are ashen, does the cold not agree with you?”

Lord Rogers glances over his shoulder, an edge in his jaw, “I handle it finely.”

You don’t mention he was only just longing for the summer. It isn’t any of your concern and you don’t very much care. Or you try not to.

“In Asgard, the winters, ah, they are splendid,” Odinson begins vibrantly, “there are days when the snow builds walls on its own and the next, they blow over to rippling oceans of frost. Endless and powdery.”

“Oh, we do not get so much snow here,” Hannah comments, “I don’t think I would survive such winters.”

You nod, listening intently as you picture the swirling snow and white dunes. It reminds you of a fairytale or a scene from one of Albina’s novels. Otherworldly and fantastical. Something entirely new and wonderful, but terrifying.

“And you, my valkyrie, would you face the blizzards?” Odinson challenges.

You hum thoughtfully. You know he is looking at you but you are too shy, too wary to return his gaze.

“I suppose with the proper cloak and a thick pair of boots, I might make it through, sir.”

“A coach and a horse, and any lady would say the same,” Rogers scoffs back at you, “girls hardly know the truth in matters of spirit. They can be overly presumptuous upon their own abilities.”

Odinson pushes his jacket back, hooking his finger in the pocket of his vest, “women are strong in ways men can never be. They carry lives, they bear the burden of the world, they maintain a grace lost on most men.”

“And the demure to the strength of men, to the wisdom they can never possess,” Rogers snaps back, laughing cruelly, “it is in the vows they take, is it not?”

“Only the strongest man can see the strength of women,” Odinson dismisses calmly, “my own mother keeps a pack of snow wolves. She goes out in the winter storms and reins her own sleigh. All while my father sits warm before his hearth. Her victories are not his losses.”

“Sounds rather quaint, Lord Odinson,” Rogers clucks, “your country strikes me as lacking civility.”

“Uncivil is a boring way of saying lively, and I promise, my home is much and more,” Odinson affirms, “but I think that fate has a way of placing us all where we belong, wouldn’t you agree?”

Rogers is quiet for a moment, his steps heavy as he strides on. He turns his head, his eye flicking between Odinson and yourself. He snorts and turns forward again.

“We must all take as we earn, accept what we do and do not get,” he says tritely, speaking animatedly with his hand in the air, “more often than not, we have only ourselves to thank… or blame.”

As cryptic as his words are, they are plain to you. That night with him was not unearned. Your foolishness bought your destruction. You must now live out your sentence of watching him walk arm in arm with another woman, your sister, everyday. You must accept that what he took can never be reclaimed.

💙

You sit in the garden, wrapped in a shawl as autumn breezes around the table. Your mother has a fur on her shoulders and your sisters chatter their teeth as they sip their tea. You rub your hands together, your gloves doing little against the crisp air. You suspect the days of dining without are close to done.

As you watch a leaf drift down from a branch, the hinges whine, and your father emerges from within. He gives an emphatic shiver as he claps his hands together. He seems rather pleases as he has his shoulders pushed back and his hat on a tilt.

"Daughters, my lovely wife, it is a beautiful day, is it not?"

You wonder at his uncharacteristic glee. Your father is ever practical and serious, on all matters. More so, he confounds as through the mutter of responses, he looks to you. You nod and agree with his sentiment softly.

"My daughter, my eldest, you... have a visitor."

You blink and withhold a grimace. He hates when you make faces. You force a smile and your voice crackles as you muster your voice.

"A visitor, father?"

"He is inside, he cannot have his tea alone," he says as if you should know who he alludes to.

You stand as Cora rolls her eyes, "who could be here for her?"

You notice how Albina and Hannah share a look. You cannot determine whether it is at your expense or Cora's.

"Daughter," your father drawls, "do not be sour that your betrothed eludes you."

"He does not--"

"So be happy for your sister and enjoy your tea."

She huffs and reaches for her cup. You step around her chair and approach your father. He smiles and as you near, he puts his hands on your arms. He is smiling. Genuinely.

"He has my blessing, of course, I will need accompany you to maintain propriety," he speaks quietly, "come."

You dip your chin down and meekly follow him inside. A servant pulls the door closed behind you. Your steps echo down the corridor as your father leads you to the sunroom. As you enter, there is some rustling and a subtle creak.

You peek up to find Lord Odinson standing with a hand on his vest. He bows to you and your father. You stop in the archway.

Your father proceeds, unaffected, and sits in the cushioned chair nearest the fireplace. He slaps his thighs as he splays his legs and grunts.

"Well, then, get on with it," your father grumbles.

Lord Odinson straightens his posture and gulps. He reaches up and toys with his cravat, the starch fabric already askew. He smiles, his cheeks reddening. He sways and looks between your father and yourself.

"I thought it very difficult to put this in ink but now I am here, I find the same is true of words," he says, laughing at his own joke, "so, lady, I trust this isn't very surprising to you. I've made my intentions clear and I've made your father a proposal, which he has graciously approved. Thus I put to you the question..." he twists his cravat, stops himself, then grips his jacket lapel, "would I be a fair husband to you? Er, or rather, would you... would you... honour me as a wife?"

The air stills and the chill that trailed you in dissipates. You blink dumbly and let your mouth fall open. You glance at your father. You understand his happiness now and yet you cannot believe it.

Your stomach churns and you clamp your mouth shut. The silence turns unbearable. You notice how Lord Odinson's cheek spasms and his complexion drains.

"Yes, sir, I... suppose... rather, I would..." you feel as if you're choking, "is it true? A marriage?"

"You wouldn't have to leave your homeland forever. I have some months ahead of me and my holdings here. We could visit--"

"Yes, yes, I will marry you," you murmur.

You hold your breath. Waiting. For one of them to break. For a peel of laughter between them. For it all to be another trick.

"Glory," Odinson exclaims as he proffers his hand, "shall we sit for tea, then, my valkyrie?"

You nod, unable to speak for fear of croaking. It is real. This man is real but you worry, his attention may yet prove false.

430 notes · View notes

judesmoonbeauty · 6 months

Text

2024 Villains Festival Prologue(s) ♛

This includes the exclusive Villains Festival Team's Prologue that was released on X. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Also, feel free to ignore my random commentary.

Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with///

Victor: Ta-da! Her Majesty the Queen has announced an extra bonus payment!

Liam: What, we've never gotten a bonus before? (Damn, that's sad.)

Jude: It's a drop in the bucket anyway, right?

Victor: The amount is on the letter from her Majesty the Queen.

Victor: It seems we're all paid the same amount of money, so let's split this money with everyone...how's that?

Kate: Is something wrong?

Victor: Oh my god! This is a serious situation....The amount is only divisible by 9!

Ellis: Isn't it for 10 people because Kate is here too?

Victor: She is separate from you all and is already paid.

Kate: Yes! I've been taken well care of.

Victor: So, if we divide by 9, the remainder is....

Alfons: It's a pain in the ass to worry about the leftovers, isn't it?

Alfons: Instead of being so tightfisted, why don't we just have a bonus battle?

Elbert: A bonus battle?

Alfons: The winner should take all the bonuses.

Alfons: It saves you the trouble of dividing by 9, and above all, it's fun right?

Harrison: Winner...What game are we going to play? If it's poker, I don't think I'll lose.

Roger: How about a beer drinking contest? You get to drink and compete, it's a win-win.

Liam: They're both steering the game to their own advantage....it has to be fair, right?

Victor: Then, how about we let our Fairy Tale Writer, decide?

Victor: Let's make the supreme evil who steals her heart the winner and take all the bonuses! That's it!

Kate: What? I can't be responsible for that!

Victor: Don't worry! Her Majesty will make the final decision based on Kate's evaluation. You'll be fine!

Victor: I won't hold you solely responsible. So.....

Kate: …...

Victor: Hey!

Kate: Okay, I understand.

Victor: Thank you, Kate!

(When you look at me with such joyful eyes like sparkling jewels....I won't be able to refuse.)

Victor: It's late today, so the review will start tomorrow. And.....this is for you.

Victor handed me a heart motif necklace.

Victor: Think of this as your very heart and give it to the bad guy who steals your very heart.

Kate: Yes.

Victor: I'm excited! Now, my dear cursed ones, the battle for the bonus is about to begin!

Villains Festival 2024 Teams Prologue:

The condition for taking the entire bonus from her Majesty is to steal XXX's heart.

The villains begin to form dangerous joint fronts -

Alfons, Roger and Jude from Team Villain try to kidnap you?

Jude: What do you guys have?

Roger: A sack.

Alfons: Does it look like something other than a rope?

Jude: So, you'll bag her, tie her up and kidnap her....

Alfons & Roger: Please don't ask if you already know.

Harrison, Liam and Ellis is Team Love Thief.

They rush to protect you from Team Villain?!

Harrison: I'm here to protect you – No lie.

Liam: I don't want money. All I want is love from you.

Ellis: I'm happy as long as you're happy.

William, Elbert and Victor is Team Nobleman.*** (I decided to change this to Team Nobleman from Team Senior Aristocrat.)

They had decided to fight gracefully with a noblesse oblige heart, but......?!

Elbert: If anything happens to her.....I can't allow that to happen.

William: Hmm....I guess I blew my leeway earlier.

Victor: Good day, my dear.

Victor: Shall I punish you....?

When the three stories connect,

The fierce, serious and silly (?) will be revealed......

[Master List]

#Ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil translations #cybird translations #ikevil spoilers #ikevil william #ikevil roger #ikevil victor #ikevil ellis #ikevil jude #ikevil liam #ikevil alfons #ikevil harrison #ikevil elbert

128 notes · View notes

huffelpuff210 · 5 months

Text

Taken Care of Part 4 Dark Steve Rogers x Dark Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Dark Themes, manipulation, controlling behavior, isolation, trapping, Non Con, baby trapping, forced pregnancy,forced relationship, forced Marriage

You sat in the back of the car as buildings whipped by it almost seemed like everything was just a dream or nightmare, you just wished if this was some sort of dream you would soon wake up,

Steve and Bucky described in detail about what was going to happen, you were going to move in with them to the new home they had just got finished getting built,

They wouldn’t tell you exactly where it was or what it looked like they wanted to surprise you, They said they would come back for your things later to just pack the necessary things and so you did,

You don’t know why they decided to do this to you but you just couldn’t wrap your head around it,

“You can sleep if you want doll it’s going to be a long drive.” Bucky says looking back at you from the passenger seat,

“I’m not very tired..” You mumbled

“When was the last time you have gotten a decent amount of sleep?” Steve asked you looking at you in the rear view mirror.

You just shrugged to be honest you couldn’t remember.

“Sweetheart you need to take care of yourself.” Steve says

“Especially when you get pregnant.” Bucky chimes in

You look down, you just could believe this was happening, They explained everything that was going to happen in the weeks to come,

After getting settled in your new home you are to plan your wedding to them, they have already found someone who will do it, Marry the three of you together,

It was going to be a huge event, according to Steve, Everyone was going to be there, To celebrate the union,

You were to pick out your dress, flowers, and they were going to take care of the rest, You were terrified why was this happening?

Then you three were going to go on a honeymoon they didn’t tell you were that it was a surprise, but they explained you three were going to be gone for a few weeks there,

You just knew in order to survive this you were going to have to play along at least until they let their guard down and you could figure out a way to escape.

It took about an hour until Steve pulled down a lane there was nothing but trees, nothing around, the dirt lane seemed to go on for miles, until he pulled up in front of a house, it was beautiful a two story home, white with windows and window shutters. It just reminded you of the picket fence kind of home,

“This is it.” Steve said putting the car in park,

“This is going to be our home away from the tower.” Bucky says getting out of the car,

You get out of the car,

“But I can still work right?” You asked

“Oh no kitten you never have to work again.” Bucky says kissing the side of your head,

“Call us old school, But no girl of ours is going to be working.” Steve says walking towards you

“All you have to worry about is taking care of the house, yourself and the kids when the time comes.” Steve says brushing some hair out of your face,

“K-Kids, Steve I don’t think I can-” You begin becoming flustered

“Yes, you can and will, We will not abandon you like that loser.” Bucky says

“Or stress you out we will take care of you.” Steve says

“Steve I can’t I’m still-” You begin,

“We know you are still upset about your loss but you are with us now, Things are going to be different.” Bucky says gripping your chin.

“B-But.” You began,

“In fact lets start right now.” Steve says hauling you up over his shoulder, you yell hitting his back,

“S-Stop, I don’t want this! I’m not ready for this!” You yell trying to reason with them,

“You are doll and you will be. You just need a little push.” Bucky says as he’s walking behind Steve.

“Sorry for not giving you the grand tour but we’ll get to that later.” Steve says

“But first let break in the new Calvin King bed we got just for the three of us.” Bucky says chuckling

Steve chuckles along with him,

Steve opens the door, to the bedroom, tossing you on the bed,

“Now doll strip or I can do it for you.” Steve says taking off his shirt,

You look up at him with glassy eyes, knowing there was no saying no to Steve, and there was no returning from this moment, you were trapped and you knew it, there was no place to run, or hide, they would chase you down in a second,

“We’re waiting kitten.” Bucky says breaking you our of your thoughts.

You shakily pull your shirt off above your head tossing it to the floor,

“That’s our good girl.” Steve says gripping your chin.

69 notes · View notes

frostironfudge · 4 months

Text

Labyrinth - Bucky Barnes - Epilogue

Summary: labyrinth (noun), a complicated set of paths and passages, through which it is difficult to find your way. Bucky and You would do anything for Steve and Wanda, your respective best friends. In an attempt to avoid a tradition Steve and Wanda come up with a lie involving their best friends. A lie, that involves building a labyrinth. Bucky and You begin to build but will you two find your way out or be caught in it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, (Modern AU)

Word Count: 7.3 k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Warnings: chapter contains 18+ moments, minors DNI, fluff, sm/ut, dir/ty talk, p in v, hot bucky, swearing, soft bucky, protective bucky, feels, family drama, bucky is a whole green forest, bucky is the cutest, animal adoption, feels, family issues, tox/ic family dynamics.

Main Masterlist || AO3 || Fic Masterlist ||

“Allow me to understand this,” The tone carries disappointment and anger in differing proportions.

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek, for once his composure is not maintained. The nerves that wrap around him as if a python is going for the slow kill. He nods.

“You lied to all of us.” Yusuf Khan stares at his stellar employee. An employee he began to view as family after the night they all interacted.

Bucky wants to give a reason, explain it all but he chooses to say the one worded truth, “Yes.”

Yusuf contemplates, tapping on his desk, “And your fiancé?”

“She’s my girlfriend now.” He responds, eyes moving between the tapping digits of his boss and his own feet.

“Is it because you wanted to get in my good books?” Yusuf is on the brink of disappointment.

“No, it is a long story actually… Steve Rogers, my best friend–,”

“Steve Rogers the acquisition lawyer?”

“Yes, well about several months ago he proposed to his long time girlfriend and well, it um, it sounds really stupid to my own ears…” Bucky runs a hand over his jaw, moving up to tuck his stray strands of hair back into place.

“I’ve got time, sit.” Yusuf gestures to the chair.

Bucky takes a seat and begins to recount the events that began in the diner all those months ago.

“So it was an elaborate plan to get the two of you buttheads–,”

“Kamala.” Muneeba chastises her daughter.

“It wasn’t even a bad word!” The youngest Khan complained only to sigh at her mother’s stern expression.

“Yes, it was their elaborate plan to make us,”

‘Buttheads’ Kamala mouths and you nod, she grins.

“To make us realise and act upon our buried feelings over the unresolved miscommunication.” You explain, Bucky returns with your plate filled with appetisers.

“They played us.” He shakes his head, still not understanding how he did not catch onto the lies. You pat his knee to keep him from getting grumpy about it.

Though it was adorable when he started getting a little pout on his lips. You kept that little information to yourself.

“Thank you for allowing us back into your home.” Bucky adds, even though the remainder of the staff wasn’t there that night. Yusuf had requested Bucky and you to join the Khans for dinner.

Once they all heard what exactly was the history the two of you shared, the lie or as Muneeba put it, ‘The two of you got your chance to fall in love again.’

You liked that point of view.

Sharing a glance with Bucky observing as his shoulders did not have the slight droop which indicated his distress over telling the full truth. It made you happy he wasn’t dismissed or treated coldly as one of his co-worker had experienced.

The dinner passed by in a blur of laughter and happy memories. A part of you glad you had the experience and opportunity to interact with a family as warm as the Khans. Tayesha and you had taken an immediate liking to each other, talking much more in depth than the opportunity previously provided.

Dessert was fast approaching you had brought over cookies, the dinner invite came at the very last minute amongst the other orders you were fulfilling. Muneeba suggested making tea but Yusuf sweetly kissed the back of her palm, called her Jaan (life) and told her the men would do it.

Drawing a very reluctant Aamir away from a game of Monopoly Deal he was winning against his sister, much to her delight. Yusuf nodded towards Bucky to follow them into the kitchen.

“You know, the reason you are welcome back here is because of your honesty.” Yusuf explained as he brought out the containers of ingredients. Bucky watched as Aamir drew measurements based on feeling; a contrast to the meticulous way he had observed you measure.

“I didn’t want to keep it from you, it's just that day in front of everyone I got cornered and well…”

Yusuf nods, “You couldn’t damage control as much as you preferred and I put you in a tight spot.”

“Sort of and I didn’t want to disappoint you. It would be true had Sunshine and I—I mean had Y/N and I gotten together earlier.”

“Always refer to them by their nicknames; they love it.” Yusuf advises with a smile.

“And they love you more for it.” Aamir brings out the tea cups.

Bucky grins then, “I’ve always thought of her as Sunshine.”

“It shows how she brightens your life my dear boy.” Yusuf then says a word in Arabic, “We say it when we do not want the evil eye to befall on anything.”

“I see.” Bucky smiles, “Thank you, I didn’t think I’d find more people to consider family.”

Aamir grins at him, “The first time dad mentioned you, I knew you’d become his little protégé.”

Yusuf chuckles, “Well, you know I have a healthy gut.”

Aamir groans, “Not that joke again.” Exasperatedly running his palms down his face.

Bucky laughs, “Your gut is healthy so your feelings are all right?”

“Precisely.” Yusuf winks at him.

The tea is strained into the cups, Bucky holds the biscuit box and the cookie box as they re-enter. There are photo albums opened across the coffee table.

You’re sitting cross legged on the floor with Kamala as she shows you the Khan family through history. Bucky observes as you delicately trace your fingers over the photographs. When you look up at him, your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

He frowns, Muneeba distracts the two of you by asking about future plans.

It has been two weeks and you find yourself opening the chat with Bucky scrolling to the shared media page and staring at the picture with the Khans. All seven of you squished onto the couch. The camera set on a tripod, you leaning against Bucky because the two of you were balancing on the armrest.

The same as Tayesha and Aamir on the other side. You trace the picture yet again and shut the message thread. Your heart cautions you yet again from saving the picture, the permanence of family was not a privilege awarded to you.

Alpine brushes herself across your ankles. You pick her up and pepper her cute squish-able face with kisses. She chirps in happy approval till she has had her fill and then leaps out of your arms. Bucky emerges from his post workout shower, finding you in the kitchen absentmindedly stirring the saucepan.

“Are you going to tell me?” He broached the subject the very night of the dinner as the two of you drove back home.

You declined him then, put on a front that he saw right through but didn’t mention. He let you stew in your mind because you weren’t willing to see the hand he extended towards you. Into the void that was labelled ‘crappy family’ but you weren’t willing to be brought out.

Bucky has had enough of you drowning yourself in sadness. He can taste it on your lips. He can feel the cracks on you deepen when he holds you close. He’s had enough of you letting this eat at yourself.

“Soare, I’ve let you take your time with this but you’re falling into a deep pit and I do not know if I will be able to pull you out. So I’m willing to go down with you, so I can help you climb back out.” Bucky steps closer, shutting off the stove and turning you to face him, palm cupping your cheek. “Let me in, please.”

You meet the beautiful eyes that anchor you.

Concern and worry brimming in them as he looks into your eyes, knowing there is a sadness looming. Knowing he wants to protect you. You grab at his arms, blinking but the tears form. Your mind, body, heart and soul know he is your safe space.

He is your everything.

The one you can be authentically yourself and he will love you.

He still held onto you when he thought the worst of you.

You still held onto him when you thought the worst of him.

Bucky feels the same way about you, the love you share is unconditional. Allowing each other to grow individually and together.

“Sunshine, you gotta talk to me sweet girl,” He gnaws at his bottom lip watching you.

Your hands rest on his chest and the damned dam breaks. Your hands move around his neck pressing yourself to him and you begin to cry.

Bucky’s warmth surrounds you and he pulls you closer. Arm around your waist and the other holding your head, keeping you pressed to the crook of his neck.

Sobs wrack your body, he doesn’t hush you, the soft movements only encourage you and allow you to know that he is here. He is here for you and you should let it all out.

“My strong Sunshine, let it all out okay? We can fall apart in front of each other okay? Such a strong girl, my sweet Sunshine.” He whispers through your breakdown.

When your sobs turn to sniffles and he presses the cool water bottle into your palms, helps you drink it. Bucky wipes away the tear stains, kissing your entire face.

“You okay Sunshine? You wanna head to bed?” He questions and you shake your head with a sniffle.

“Take your time baby.” He encourages, rubbing his warm and loving palm along your back.

“It's just, I miss my family? Being around the Khans that night? Kamala showed me the pictures. I didn’t think I’d be sad for this long, I’m so sorry, I know you’re trying to help. I just thought I could handle this alone. That I’d get over it. I always have but, I, they accepted you back and me after we made mistakes and hurt them and, and Bucky that is what family does…. Why couldn’t mine do the same? Was I that bad? Am I that irredeemable?” You blurt out, gingerly taking more sips as he brings the bottle to your lips again.

“Sunshine, you haven’t committed any mistakes ever that are non forgive-able. Your family has treated you like crap. Basing your worth—making you think and believe that your worth is tied to a fucking douchebag? Just for their gain and access to the guy’s bank account by extension? God, I want to punch your brother so bad.” His hands brush away your tears,

“Look, baby, you can handle things alone, sometimes which is most of the time but you should not have to, I learned this pretty fucking late too. You have a support system in place. Wanda, Steve, their parents, Becca, my parents, and me. You can lean on us whenever you want, okay? We’ll catch you.” He nudges your jaw with his nose. It makes you smile.

Bucky’s heart eases as he watches your eyes light up after days of dark clouds.

“Pietro too…” You giggle at his responding growl.

“Look, it isn’t wrong to want your family on that list, okay? If you want to mend your relationship with them I’ll drive you over myself and stay with you. You want privacy? I’ll wear noise cancelling headphones and sit in the kitchen. You want Wanda there? Steve? Becca? Even fucking Pietro will turn up for you in support okay?” He makes you look up at him, “You say the word, my love, Soare mi, I’ll make whatever you want happen. If it is in my capacity of bringing to fruition, I’ll fucking bring down the sun to worship at your feet, Sunshine.” He promises.

You cup his cheeks, thumbs grazing over his stubble, “I love you so much. You all in my life, you’re enough okay?” Guilt eats at you for wanting more than what you have for being greedy.

“I know we are but there’s nothing wrong with wanting more.” Bucky says, reading your mind almost, “You think about it, but don’t let it make you turtle all the way down. I need my girl to shine.”

Your eyes mist again, kissing him before being tucked against the crook of his neck again.

A few more days later Bucky drives you across the city towards the neighbourhood where your family lived. The hand rest under your intertwined palms is warm in the sun belting down overhead. It’s an unseasonably hot day. Good enough to blame the sweat pooling at the nape of your neck upon it.

Ever so often Bucky raises your hand and kisses the back of it. You needed this, you wanted it and you were prepared in case things go south to leave them be in the past they wanted to remain in. Bucky was in correspondence with Steve and Wanda on a separate chat. The three ready to take over for you in case you needed to just be though they were rooting for a happier outcome. For your sake only.

Walking up the pathway of the house is bittersweet and nostalgic. The house is in good enough condition. Lawn mowed and kept in compliance with the HOA.

Your grip on Bucky’s arm tightens, “You’re the second man they will be meeting.” You try to lighten the conversation.

“Well they’ll know you got it right this time.” He chuckles, heart twisting as you laugh but the nerves begin to claw at you.

He wonders if he could shield you from this the way he shielded you from the cold. He wraps an arm around you. You’re tucked right against him. Your head rests right at the spot of his tattoo dedicated to you.

The doorbell rings.

There is shuffling and a bit of yelling. A common occurrence.

Your brother opens the door, his eyes move to Bucky and then to the arm at your hip. Then at you, “This your trade in for the rich fucker? This is—,”

“He is an upgrade from the cheater.” You cut him off, “Are mom and dad home? I wanted to talk as well as introduce James.” You look up at your man, Bucky squeezes your side in encouragement.

Your brother scowls and then pads inside, from the doorway you see him gesture to come into the hall. Your mom and dad sit on the couch. He takes the chair that leaves the smaller loveseat open for the two of you.

The five of you sit in silence for a few minutes, Bucky observing them and they observe Bucky. He watches as they take in the kind of clothes he wears, the brand of his watch already caught their eyes. He wonders if this is why you were worried that they would judge him.

Your eyes however are all over the old home you had. The wall with your heights marked. The smear of nail paint they could never get out from one of the walls. The ceiling that was the floor of your room.

“So,” Your dad begins, “This is?” He vaguely gestures towards Bucky.

“Wait a minute. You, you’re fucking married!” Your brother points to the wedding bands.

“Are you serious? Y/N, fuck I had hope you’d marry the rich dude. God, do you never think about the benefit of this family?”

“Do you ever let her speak or do you all always walk all over her?” Bucky seethes at the three of them.

“Who the hell are you? To talk to us in this manner.”

“James Barnes—,”

“That scholarship idiot who she was pining behind? So pathetic. Mom, remember I told you about finding her one day crying over him that weekend she came back?” Your brother says looking at your mom who looks at you with disappointment.

“Sweetie, don’t you think about us? Our needs?” Her tone may be soft but her words are fully inducing a guilt trip you do not deserve.

“Are you fucking—,” Bucky shuts up when you squeeze his thigh.

“I’m running my baking business now—,”

“There goes the money, do only I have to do the work around here?” Your brother groans.

“It’s doing well enough, I thought we could mend things after the horrible way I was treated.”

“You?” Your dad scoffs.

Your mom snorts, “If anything you got us into this mess and now you want to sell Betty Crocker with your name on it.”

Bucky can’t take this anymore, half a mind to chew them out, your squeezing hand keeps him quiet. He stays quiet for you. Anger ebbing into a simmer.

He knows where your brother worked. The boss is an old friend of Bucky’s dad.

Small world.

One little word and this man would be put on the midnight shift.

“As I was saying, I came here to mend things. Clearly you have no place in my present or future. Also you do not get to disrespect the man I love. So what if he had scholarships? That means he had more brain cells than you three combined to get a degree.” You stand.

Bucky stands with you, “I’m proud of him. I stand by him and he stands by me. He told me he would be there for me today so I wouldn’t have to endure the horrible crap you all say alone.”

“Boo hoo you weren’t abused.” Your mom waves off looking at you without an ounce of guilt.

“Abuse isn’t always physical. Neglect isn’t always physical. You all made me emotionally broken.“ You bite your cheek, you can’t cry.

You won’t cry.

“Finances aren’t ever the responsibility of a child. I went through it myself. It isn’t for us to grow the fuck up earlier than required because you as parents, failed miserably.” Bucky adds, squeezing your hand, “She did her best given she had to be an adult before she was required to be. When you,” he points to your mom and brother, “Were supposed to be adults. Not her all alone.”

“Exactly, you made me grow up and then treated me as if I was a tantrum throwing child. When you all were the childish ones.” You point at all of them, “I did my best. With what I had, I did my best.”

They all stare at you, baffled at you calling them out. They clearly weren’t ready to admit their faults. Nor were they prepared for civilised conversation. Your brother stares into his phone and then widens his eyes, “You drove Beck into a loss?” He asks Bucky.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Is that all you people care—,”

“That means he got more than that cheater.” Your dad adds cutting him off.

You scoff, “Fucking rich.” You grab Bucky’s hand leading him towards the door.

He follows while glaring at all of them as they watch on and then sputter into action.

“He has an expensive car too,” Your brother groans,

“You couldn’t be respectful?” Your mom swats the back of his head.

Bucky shuts your door, before rounding the car to the driver’s side. He keeps the door ajar so you can catch the conversation, “Do not expect to get anything from her. I’m going to make sure you cannot touch a penny she has to her name.”

“We’ll claim as family once she’s married, she has nothing to her name but a failing business.” Your dad informs him walking with his walker to the driveway.

Bucky settles into the car, he gives you a once over. You watch a calm demeanour take over him and his next words are in a voice you recognise he uses at work, “You seem to be curious people. I’ll tell you what, come after her. No seriously come after her and see where you end up. This cute three bedroom is spacious right?”

The three of them nod, still thinking they have a shot at something better.

“Try and do anything remotely stress-inducing to my girl, even if it's a damn Christmas card. I’ll shove you three into a matchbox.” He rolls up the window and pulls out of the driveway. Exhaling loudly when the house is out of view.

You reach over, holding onto his hand, “Thank you.”

“You need not thank me, Sunshine.” He kisses your hand.

You’re too lost in your thoughts, the car stops and you blink. Bucky opens your door just as the door to Wanda and Steve’s home opens as well. The two stand at the door.

“Thought you’d need your family tonight.” He smiles as you look at him.

“We’ve got wine, take out, I’ve printed pictures of your brother to be a dart board.” Wanda pulls you into a hug, “Steve has the best thing though.”

“I’ve checked the law, multiple times. They really can’t come after you. You’re above eighteen. In the event you do want to protect future and current assets we can put them into a trust.” Steve says, “But we can discuss this later on in depth for now, how about a hug and I ordered your favourite take out. Also, Wanda’s lined up your comfort show.”

You look at all three of them, heart bursting at the seams for all the love they have to offer you. You open your arms, all three, engulf you in a group hug. Bucky and Steve laugh when Wanda grumbles about them being giants.

Months further pass.

A blur of date nights, date days.

A haze of falling even more in love with James Barnes.

The pink rivulet runs along his jaw, you lick your lips as his thumb prevents the further fall of the strawberry juice.

“You’re right, I should not eat these laying down.” Bucky chuckles, the sound of him sucking his thumb has your ears echoing your heartbeat. This man should be aware of what he does to you. You hope he does.

Reverting your gaze back to the book at hand, you try not to let your thoughts get side tracked. Bucky had planned this picnic date, his only request was your strawberry tarts and chocolate covered strawberries. Hence the devil incarnate side-tracking juice.

He sits up bemused looking down at you, you still remain laying, book open but the words are a blur.

“Hi, Sunshine.” Bucky greets, leaning over, lips brushing against your own.

“Hi Puffin.” You kiss him, he smiles against your lips, hand gently grasping the book from your hands. He pulls away slightly, finding the bookmark and placing it before shutting the book and returning to your lips.

The taste of chocolate and strawberry explodes upon your tongue. You cup his cheek, your left hand moves to his hair, undoing his bun is one of your favourite moments. A small laugh escapes between the two of you as his strands tickle your cheek.

Somewhere his phone alarm rings and you huff, he kisses your cheek, making you sit up, across his lap.

“Sunset’s about to start, and I brought you here for that.” He explains yet again.

“Well you knew you would get horny hence the cockblock alarm.” Nipping at his jaw, you laugh as his hands tickle at your sides.

“Pay attention to the view, Sunshine.” He chastises with a grin of his own.

“I am, Mr. Barnes. You are a delectable view.” You coo as he blushes at your words and rolls his eyes.

Shaking his head, he grabs your jaw to make you face the view. The colours begin to change, dusk creeping into daylight. Bucky had found this view after driving around for the better part of his shitty day years ago.

He stayed there, only heading down the hill to pick up food from a burger place nearby, returning to watch the sunset. At first it was a shitty day relieving place, slowly it turned into a weekly thing. Now, he’d brought you here.

“It’s beautiful.” The colours change to pink and orange, you’re tucked right against him. Bucky drapes his jacket over you. Chin resting on your head after placing a soft peck.

The two of you watch the sunset, his arms tighten around you. Your hands rest above his, “How did you come across this place? Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“You know, how Dr. Cho said we need to tell each other about how we processed ‘the event’?” He keeps his gaze on the darkening sky.

You swallow, nodding allowing him the space to speak.

“I found this place in the aftermath, at first it was mostly to escape crappy days. I was here often when the two of us interacted. You know, sort of snide comments, glares, and disdain.” He sighs, shoulders slumping, “Then I came here on a night I did something that made me question things. Ultimately I realised the thing I did was a happy one.”

The silence engulfs the two of you, the sounds of people packing their own picnics begins as night completely takes over. Solar lamps flicker on as pathway guides.

“What was it that you did?” You ask, playing with the ring on his finger.

Bucky says nothing, only smiles but you can’t see it.

The proof of what he did is framed in your home in the name of Jamesetta Barnette. He would tell you eventually. The perfect moment was already handpicked.

“Bucky?” You look up, he brushes his knuckles over your cheek.

“I’ll tell you soon enough.” He promises, resting his forehead against yours.

“It made you happy, that’s enough for me to be happy about as well.” Your eyes close, “I love you.”

“I love you, my Sunshine.”

The very bookstore café that Bucky and you frequent now houses your baked mini cakes and other dessert items. Your little logo plaque rests proudly above the display. A full six months went into this, you began pitching ideas to bookstore-café combinations a week after Steve and Wanda’s wedding.

Bucky made sure to help you with the numbers aspect of your presentation, making it simplified. Staying up late surrounded by leftover food hearing you pitch to him over and over. Not once did he belittle you for asking questions, not once did he make you feel inferior for not understanding the integral aspect of finances. You knew enough to get by and file your yearly taxes but not this meticulously, while keeping your business in a growth mindset.

Now seeing the signed contracts with a few cafés and especially the one where one of your risqué fantasies had come true really was the icing on the cake.

Bucky deems a celebration is in order and the book buying journey turns into you both finding yourselves in the secluded section yet again.

Only this time you’re the one tasting the dulce de leche off of his skin. The way he loses himself is sending you on a powertrip. His little whimpers and gasps, the groans that leave him.

You’re straddling him, his head thrown back just at the teasing of your lips. Shirt unbuttoned and showing his beautiful skin. Surrounded by books and the promise of him recreating one of the scenes that had you go very quiet and calm as you read it. You smile as the blush that dusts his cheeks as he had read the scene is the same way right now.

His pretty pink lips parted, large hands on your hips guiding you over his bulge. Sending shivers of pleasure thrumming through you in between your torture upon him.

“Sunshine,” His voice was hoarse, but you weren’t done. You smear another bit of the sweetness on his lips. Leaning down, the kiss is salvation and sin, heaven and hell.

“Fuck, baby,” He groans.

Bucky’s left hand moves, gripping the back of your head, his knees bent and you hold onto him as he shifts the two of you with ease on the carpeted floor.

You’re beneath him now. He grinds against you, swallowing your moan of his name. Your nails clawing at his back, pulling him closer.

“You know anyone could find us this way.” He teases, “You, fuck–, being a good girl for me, my pussy taking what she wants from me.”

You moan at his words, your satin shirt unbuttoned. Bra unhooked, discarded somewhere. Fingers carding through Bucky’s hair as his lips latch onto your nipple, sucking hard.

Your clit pulses demanding attention, he grinds down at the very moment sensing your need.

“Fuck, Bucky, God—,” Your fingers tug on his hair, he moans against your hardened peak. Your hips move against him, demanding more.

Bucky pulls away, his body covering yours, shielding you from prying eyes, he’s asked management to close off the section. He’d tell you afterwards he holds a stake in this store as an investment but not in the decision making. For now though you look so pretty and he can feel your arousal soaking the material of his pants and if he does not get even a little taste he thinks he might just die.

Dipping his head to capture your sweet lips, he pauses brushing them, your nails—leaving a delicious burn in their greed. He loves it, loves all the marks you leave upon him.

“Oh, oh fuck—what? Bucky? Y/N?! Holy shit!”

Bucky stares down at you confused, you feel your body heat up and then tense. Then ice coats your veins.

“Someone—,” You can’t complete your thought, Bucky’s hands are working at record speed, you now wear his henley. Your legs no longer wrapped around his waist but together and he pushes you behind him.

You peek up from Bucky’s shoulder at the intruder and find a red faced Steve Rogers standing at the end of the aisle while staring down at his shoes.

“Steve, what the fuck?” Bucky breaks the silence.

“I um, I came for the books and uh, I’m going to go now…” He scratches the back of his neck.

“What book?” Bucky looks at the aisle you both are, it begins at maternity books and ends on culinary books. Where the two of you are currently.

“Are those pregnancy books?” You narrow your eyes at the books in his hand.

“Uhm, yes the pregnant lady downstairs wanted another set of copies so I volunteered.” He explains with a cough.

“How far along was she?” Bucky tilts his head at his best friend.

“Um? I don’t know… Also I didn’t realise this was the way to get pregnant with a live demo aisle.”

“Wait a minute,” You look at the books again, then Steve and then recall the way Wanda had been the past two weeks.

You lunge your phone while Bucky struggles to keep you covered. Steve just turns his back towards you both but remains standing in the aisle.

Wanda: 911 call me asap

“Bucky!” You squeal, your man turns to you with eyes wide and confused.

“What?” He holds onto his hoodie, you narrow your eyes at him.

“You had your hoodie but gave me your henley?” You huff, typing back a response to Wanda.

“Is that… relevant to whatever is going on with Steve and I suppose Wanda?” He hands you your jeans, you let the topic slide away for another day.

“Can you both please get dressed?” Steve offers advice and plea.

“Now you know what the two of us have to deal with when Wan and you are at it.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Jerk.”

“Idiot.”

“Punk.”

“Stupid.”

“That's the only series of words you both say.” You comment.

“That's because your Bucky has all the stupid with him.”

Bucky snorts as he hands you your socks. Waiting for you to finish before he takes his clothes sans hoodie which you have conveniently stolen during his argument with his best friend.

Right from under his nose.

His heart somersaults nonetheless seeing his clothing on you. His dick however sends a very risqué image of you just in his unbuttoned shirt on top of him to his brain.

You raise a brow at him, he only licks his bottom lip. Blue eyes sparkling with an intent you know all too well.

He leans in, “Sunshine, I love fucking you and I fucking love you.” A sweet, innocent kiss is placed on your warm cheek before he puts on his shirt.

“Finally.” Steve sighs with relief when Bucky taps his shoulder.

“So?” Bucky claps Steve’s shoulder as you head to your respective cars.

“So?” Steve repeats.

“Man, if you don’t tell me.” Bucky glares at him.

“Okay fine you remember her dream?” Steve grins.

Wanda’s call comes through, you move away from the two giggling boys.

“Wan?” You hear silence on the other end. Then a sniffle, “Oh Wan, what is it?”

“I don’t think I can do this?” She manages to breathe out just as there is clattering.

“You’ve been preparing for this, so what if it seems daunting?” You offer, concern washing over you, “I’ll be over in a few we can talk then okay?”

Bucky lets you drive, following behind Steve.

Wanda is sprawled on the floor, instructions to make the crate covering her face.

“The adoption did go through, we’re picking him up tomorrow.” Steve informs.

“First of five?” Bucky grabs the misaligned crate parts.

“First of five.” Steve confirms.

You lay down near your best friend, the instruction sheet big enough that you too join in under it.

“Hi.” You whisper.

“Hi.” Wanda whispers back.

“We’re in the kitchen okay, babygirl?” Steve calls out.

“Let me know if you both need anything, Soare mi.” Bucky pats your knee as they head to the kitchen.

“I will, Draega mea.”

“Look at the blush.” Steve teases Bucky.

Wanda and you hear a swatting sound, it makes her chuckle finally. She looks over at you.

“I can do this right?”

“I have no doubt you’re going to be a great dog mom.” You smile at her, “Plus you bought that expensive baby stroller so of course my god-puppy is going to be spoiled rotten.”

Wanda laughs, she lets out a breath. Tears spring to her eyes, “I’m nervous.”

Your hand reaching for hers, hiding under the blanket or your textbooks was a common theme.

“What have I told you, I believe about nervousness?” You remind her.

“It means I care.” She answers, breathing out, the instruction sheet flutters.

“Exactly, and your puppy is going to love you, along with the other random animals you will end up making Steve adopt.” You chuckle.

“I saw a rat in the basement, he was so tiny.” She gushes and gestures with her free hand the size of the rat.

“What did you name it?” At this point you know she potentially adopted it already. Setting up non-hazardous traps for it.

“Rara or Bugsy.”

“Hey, Bugsy is reserved for the hamster you adopt.” You need to set your foot down on the matter.

“You’re right, probably Remy. Yeah that makes sense.”

You shake your head but decide to sit up, immediately your best friend hugs you.

Steve approaches the entryway, a smile on his face. Mouthing a thank you to you.

“Oh by the way Wan, I caught them fucking at the bookstore.” He says with a shit eating grin.

You glare at him, Wanda screeches.

“Tell. Me. Everything.” She grabs your shoulders, “Also, Stevie you owe me money. I told you one time we’d catch them there.”

“How about I turn the cash into a cute purse?” Her husband offers to a very willing Wanda.

“Ya’ll bet on us?” Bucky feigns betrayal.

“Oh please, as if you both didn't place some bets on us.” Wanda points her finger at him.

“You told them?” You ask Bucky.

“Steve wondered where I got the cash for buying rounds at the bar.” Bucky defends, a sweet smile taking over his features, the crinkles by his eyes showing. Your heart beats harder, reminding you of your feelings.

“Smitten kitten.” Wanda whispers as she had years ago.

You still swat her arm the same way.

“Bucky—,” Your quip is broken into a giggle. Strong arms encircle you. Bucky grabs onto the railing entrapping you against him.

He brings his face close to yours, blue eyes bright and a smile on his face.

“Sunshine.” He says happily, nose brushing against your own once, twice, several more times. You blush, heart roaring at the happiness you feel in this moment.

A clamour of ‘oohs’ distract the two of you. Then the silence envelopes the small crowd gathered.

Bucky gazes to the side, shifting slightly so you can see the view better.

The snow capped mountains of Switzerland being embraced by the sunrise. Slowly taking over, your head rests upon his chest. His cheek upon your head as you both watch the dawn of a new day.

“Beautiful.” You murmur, arms wrapping around him.

“Not as beautiful as you, Sunshine.” Bucky chuckles, “I know I’ve told you this at every sunrise we’ve seen but it's true.”

“All across Europe you’ve favoured me over the view.” You pull back to look up at him only to find him looking at you already, “That and the eskimo kisses.”

Bucky laughs, “Oh remind me to tell you about that when we get home, tomorrow.” He cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. You melt against him, the past three weeks were one of the best.

After a year and a half of working hard to make the baking business take off. Bucky asked if you’d be willing to take a vacation. The business was better, you’d rented out a sort of studio space. Which could be versatile in its purpose on those weeks that you didn’t have many orders. Those days it was given to people looking for hosting their own classes or group sessions.

Bucky had done the math, your next goal was owning a space as this, doing the same thing but you’d own it. He projected an achievable timeline.

Progressing at his firm under the tutelage of Yusuf. Bucky himself was thriving in front of you. On some days you couldn’t believe you both were out of the labyrinth holding hands.

Alas, the trip had come to an end. The memories would live on. Carried in the little photo album of polaroids. Negatives of films ready to be developed and the digital photos tucked away in memory cards and back up ones.

Sleepily walking into the apartment, you were hoping to crash on the couch itself. The small clock read close to five a.m.

“Take a shower, you will feel better.” Bucky kisses your forehead.

You whine in response, “Sleepy.”

“Sunshine.” He uses the kind of stern tone you can’t fight against.

“Puffin.”

“Cmon, you knew I’d help beat jet lag.” Bucky leads you to his and now your shared room.

“Only because you have a fancy shower.” You grumble, allowing him to help you out of your coat.

He only laughs, placing a sweet kiss to your jaw.

“Join me?” You offer the most innocent expression on your face.

“Tempt me all you want Sunshine, I am not going to shower with you again, you’re my angel but your water temperature can rival hell.” Bucky kisses your nose, squeezing your ass just as you pull away.

Swatting his arm you head into the bathroom, “Don’t tell me later, ‘Can’t dick down Sunshine in the bathroom.’”

Bucky sputters the water he began drinking, “That was one time and Steve fed me weed brownies!”

“I had those too! I didn’t say Bucky is a wimp during warm showers!” You call out over the sound of the lovely said warm water.

“More like scalding.” He peeks into the bathroom, getting a good view of you.

“Did you not want to unpack the chocolates we bought?” You remind him, he smiles nodding and heading out.

After your shower you find your favourite hoodie from Bucky’s collection on the bed. You could cry because it was warm.

“Hey Sunshine, are you out yet?” Bucky calls out.

“Yeah, just a second.”

“I wanted to know is the hot chocolate supposed to go in the fridge?”

“You remember what happened to the Cocoa Powder of February don’t you?” You pause your stride to the kitchen.

Several paper hearts line the floor to the little balcony. A balloon floats tied to the handrail. You pad over, Bucky not in sight.

“Bucky?” You call out, pulling the balloon down, there isn’t anything written on it.

Warm arms encircle you, just as they did at every observation deck, during every sunrise. As if he planned it down to the minute, the sky breaks into colours of dawn, you turn to face him.

“Puffin?” You stare up at him.

Bucky leans in, eskimo kissing you. You smile as you always did when he showed his affection this way.

“One sunrise at home. More than a year ago, at sunset I proposed to you albeit it was a staged one. This one isn’t staged. I put something on our vision board. Maybe you hadn’t seen it.” His hands move to grasp yours, “Do you know puffins mate for life? They sort of peck their beaks to know their love.”

“Is that why you’ve been eskimo kissing me?” You wanted to cry.

He wipes your cheek with the back of his, your hands still intertwined.

“I haven’t even started the proposal yet.” He chuckles, but his own eyes are misty. Tears gathering. His cheeks turned pink.

“I got the chance to fall in love with you again. Maybe that is a blessing. To watch you grow and see you in different lights. Sunshine, I’ve seen you eclipsed, I’ve felt your warmth on cold mornings. I’ve dreamed of you when you aren’t near. I’ve dreamed of you when I have you in my arms. I’ve lost you. I’ve found you.” He pauses, taking a deep inhale.

“I’ve been the worst foe to you. I’ve had the honour to be your friend. I’ve had the honour to have your trust. You say I’m your home Sunshine but I’ve found my peace with you. I want you for the rest of my life. I’ve seen what an engagement to you is like, I want to know what marriage is with you.” He slowly gets down on one knee.

Tears flowing out of his beautiful blue eyes.

“Oh Bucky,” You blink the tears free.

“I know, I’m not perfect,” He begins, “I’m not either,” You remind him.

“But we, we fit right.” He smiles when you wipe the tears from his eyes.

“We do.” You agree.

“Sunshine, will you be mine, to have, to hold, to love, cherish, in sickness, in health, in life. Whatever may come our way, will you allow me to be your husband? Will you be my wife? I also promise to say ‘Where is my wife?’ just like those book boys of yours.” He chuckles.

“You’re way above them, I love you so much. I didn’t think I’d get to know what it is to be yours, once I had a taste. I didn’t think I could go back.” You kneel as well.

“Puffin, I’ve seen you grow and I want to grow with you, two trees in the same forest. Roots expanting, branches fanning out. Puffins mating for life. I didn’t think I could find happiness. Let alone find the happiness that I thought was lost between us. So yes, I will be yours, husband. To love, to cherish, in sickness, in health, in life. I love you more than my book boyfriends.”

“More than that one bodyguard book dude?” Bucky’s teasing you know it, you laugh and nod.

“Yes, even more than him.” Your forehead rests against his, Bucky slips something onto your finger.

“We had wedding bands but never an engagement ring, I knew you wouldn’t want those replaced. I had the ring designed to match the original band. So you could wear both.” He explains the beautiful piece of jewellery.

“I love you, husband.” You grin as Bucky blushes, a shyness he only showed in front of you takes over him.

“I love you, wife.” Bucky cups your cheek, drawing closer.

His lips meeting yours, the morning light shining bright around the two of you.

A.N: thank you for waiting, loving and reading this story, i find it very difficult to part with the worlds i create and labyrinth is so close to my heart so very close to my heart i will miss this fic so much im crying brb

tagging: @slutforsexyseabass @elle14-blog1 @sxnshinebxcky @sebsgirl71479 @pandaxnienke @stevesmewmew @tfandtws @povlvr @tanyaspartak@maggiejackson3@brodymarx @ladylee76 @buckyinluv @buckymcbuckbarnes @almostcontentcreator @alltoounwellread @unaxv @stickyjudgeturtleghost(strikedthrough if unable to be tagged)

60 notes · View notes

mysecretlittlelibrary · 2 years

Text

Call Me Mrs. Rogers

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: not many, very brief mentions of death and some minor violence- this story is mostly just sassy arguing tbh

Genre: fluff

Summary: You have never gotten along with one Steve Rogers, at this point the rest of the team considers it a win if you two don't speak to each other for an entire day, at least then you aren't fighting. So when a briefing meeting results in you getting paired on an extended mission with him you are less than thrilled. It won't be easy but you're determined to get through it and who knows what'll happen.

***

You check your watch as you walk down the halls of the Avengers tower heading towards the meeting room. When you push open the door everyone turns to look at you.

"Y/n. So nice of you to join us." Steve snarks at you from the front of the room.

"Oh I'm sorry were you waiting for me? I would've taken longer if I knew." You say lazily as you plop into a seat next to Wanda who has to hide her snicker at your words. Steve rolls his eyes at you but doesn't bother trying to retort. Your relationship with him always been somewhat contentious. You assume it's because he's a square.

"Now that everyone's here we can get started." Steve says passing out the briefing folders. You flip yours open and scan the words quickly as he begins talking.

"Alright, here's the situation; this is our target, Dusan Müller. Hydra scientist. Our sources say he's been hiding in a small town somewhere outside of central Italy." Steve explains.

"That's very nonspecific." You scoff.

"We've narrowed it down to one of five we simply need to check them out and find him and assuming he has help we need to do it without raising suspicion."

"So, espionage? Someone's going undercover?" Nat asks.

"That's the plan." He nods.

"Who's going and what's their cover?" Bucky asks.

"Based on some research we've done the most solid undercover would probably be a newlywed couple." Tony says.

"Wait what?" Wanda frowns.

"A few of the towns are travel hotspots for 'unconventional honeymoons'. A new couple touring Europe is least likely to raise questions. At the very least it'll take a while before anyone realizes the truth." He explains.

"Sooooo who are our newlyweds?" Nat prompts again.

"That's what we're going to figure out now." Steve says.

"You haven't decided yet?" You frown.

"There are a lot of factors. A discussion makes the most sense so we can account for as many as possible." He forces out through clenched teeth.

"Well y/n and I have tons of espionage experience." Nat says.

"We could always go together." You wink at her.

"And Steve's one of the strongest fighters." Wanda says.

"He's a lanky scientist will we need brute strength really?" You ask.

"Again we don't know who is helping so if he's not isolateable we might." Tony says.

"Well if we're listing them off Bucky's a pretty strong choice for top fighters too." You point out.

"Anyone helping a Hydra scientist would for sure notice me though, plus with the metal arm I might- draw more attention, because jackets in the middle of summer on a honeymood would be weird." Bucky explains shaking his head.

"I'd go but the whole billionaire playboy thing I wouldn't wanna risk being recognized." Tony shrugs.

"Where are Bruce and Clint? Are they not available for this mission?" Wanda asks suddenly.

"They are not. Other tasks are occupying their time." Tony tells her. "If you ask me I suggest Rogers and y/n go." He adds.

"Fuck off Stark." You roll your eyes.

"Actually based on my calculations the most favorable pairing for this mission is Captain Steve Rogers and Miss Y/n Y/l/n." Vision says. It's the first thing he's said the whole meeting, you'd almost forgotten he was in the room.

"What?" You scoff.

"No." Steve says at the same time.

"Vis, you might want to recalculate that one because the only thing we are most favorable for is driving each other crazy." You cross your arms.

"Miss Romanova is the only other member of the team as skilled in this area as you y/n, however, the chances of her being recognized are higher as you fight with a mask and she does not. Similarly, as Mr. Barnes has explained, his reputation as the Winter Soldier proceeds him, and it is an unnecessary risk to send him. Mr. Stark also has quite the reputation and I am a synthezoid that would also draw attention, leaving Captain Rogers the least conspicuous partner for you."

"And Wanda or Sam?" You ask.

"It is my understanding that Sam will be indisposed during part of the proposed timeframe and Wanda lacks proficiency in the skillset needed to successfully pull this off. It would be nothing short of foolish to test her undercover capabilities with such a high-stakes mission." Vision says.

"Fine." You relent. "I'll go undercover with Rogers if you insist it is the most advantageous option." You grumble.

"I can't believe this is happening." Steve shakes his head.

"When do we leave?" You ask.

"Tomorrow at noon."

"Feels a little short noticed for an extended mission don't you think?" You frown.

"I'm sorry will that be an inconvenience to your schedule?" The question is dripping with sarcasm.

"It's got fuck all to do with my schedule and everything to do with the protocol that this doesn't follow."

"What do you know about protocol?" Steve scoffs. You stand up sharply.

"First of all I've been going on missions for longer than you've been active in the 21st century secondly I've been on this team long enough to know there are protocols we follow for these things."

"Extenuating circumstances required us to work around protocol because we can't waste time."

"And that's all you had to say but instead you wanted to be petty and make me seem like a spoiled brat because I asked a valid question! Maybe nobody else will bother because it's not their mission but since I have to leave I sure as hell will question things as necessary."

"Or don't. You have your directives. You could try just following them."

"You would do well to remember, Captain, I am not one of your little soldiers. Around here we don't just blindly follow orders. I've watched that shit get people killed too many times."

"Alright let's all just calm-"

"I will see you on the launch pad tomorrow at noon. If you need me before then, don't." You cut off whatever Sam was going to say. You grab your briefing folder and storm out of the room angrily. It's not long after that Wanda and Natasha come into your room where you're shoving clothes into your duffle bag angrily.

"So, how do you plan to play husband and wife with someone that makes you want to commit a crime every time he speaks?"

"I'm gonna act. As if my life depends on it. Because it kinda does." You sigh. "Look I'm going to do my job and I will do it well, personal feelings aside. What do you even pack for a fake honeymoon in Europe?"

"Lingerie."

"Natasha!" You glare at her.

"Not for use, but if somebody ends up in your bags you want it to look like you're on honeymoon with a man you love, so a couple pairs of cute underwear couldn't hurt." She explains with a shrug.

"Honestly I think you should try to make a connection with him on some level. Find common ground to make this mission easier on you both. It would be good for the team in the future as well." Wanda says.

"No thank you." You shake your head.

"Wanda you're a genius I'm texting Sam." Natasha says.

"No. Why would you do that?" You frown.

"He's friends with Steve, maybe he'll have some insight on how to keep you from killing each other before you return." Natasha says.

"Dude I'm just trying to pack!" You huff.

"And we're trying to make sure any injuries sustained on this mission are not a result of infighting." She shrugs.

"I would never jeopardize a mission that way and you know that Nat." You point at her. Your door swings open again and Sam comes strolling in with Bucky in tow.

"Alright what're the girls gettin up to?" He asks.

"That took you a concerningly short amount of time to get here." You mutter.

"I brought Bucky too." Sam says.

"Why?"

"Well I figured this was gonna have to do with Steve and since he's the certified record-holding pal of our captain- couldn't hurt to have his input." Sam shrugs.

"I am just trying to pack and these two are in here chatting away. So join the party I guess." You mutter tossing more things on your bed.

"How long do you think you two will be gone?" Wanda asks.

"Hopefully no more than a week, but I'll pack enough for a couple days longer than that. Plus I know how to wash my clothes." You shrug.

"Anyway! Guys, we think y/n could benefit from finding some common ground with Steve and who better to ask than his boys!" Natasha explains to them.

"'We' being her and Wanda I have no interest in any of this actually." You clarify.

"Steve is- not a complex man." Bucky shrugs.

"No not complex just exasperating." You roll your eyes.

"Is there- a particular reason why you hate him so much?" Sam asks with a smirk.

"I don't hate him-"

"EURIKA!" He gasps and you shoot a confused look at him.

"You don't hate him?" Bucky hums.

"If I hated him nothing Vision said in that meeting room would convince me to do this mission. I don't even know if I'd be on the team with him if I felt that strongly about him." You explain. "Rogers is just such a stiff. He sees the world in a specific way and expects most things to adhere to that worldview. When they don't he gets naggy. It's aggravating."

"So, just to clarify; you do not hate him." Sam says.

"No. I don't. He's just boring and we don't get along because I don't like boring people and the way he talks to me is fucking rude. As if it's my fault that he's insipid." You scoff.

"Honestly that- feels like a start." Bucky nods.

"A start for what, exactly? I'm not the problem. We can't find common ground if he's not willing to lighten up."

"I mean if you're together for an entire week he can't be stuffy the entire time, right?" Sam shrugs.

"I don't care if he's stuffy the whole time. It's not a vacation. We don't need to have fun being a fake couple." You say.

"Honestly I think this mission will be good for your relationship with Steve. We're all on a team it's not good for you to fight with him all the time." Wanda says.

"This is feeling oddly intervention-like. Save it y'all, I just want to do my job and bring in this hydra creep." You say.

"It's not meant to be interventional, we just want to make this easier for you." She sighs.

"I don't really need it to be easier but I appreciate the attempt. Sammy, Bucky go about your business please and thank you." You sigh folding the last of your clothes and shoving them in your large travel duffle.

"Good luck this week lady." Bucky nudges you before tugging Sam out of your room.

"Are you kicking us out too?" Natasha smirks.

"At this point I should, but you don't listen anyway." You roll your eyes. You toss your travel toiletries bag into the duffle and couple of other travel essentials, a book, your mission suit, and some extra combat equipment, things of that nature and by the time you're done packing you, Wanda, and Nat have made plans for dinner later in the evening.

~*~*~

When you wake up the next morning you put on a sundress, chosen by Wanda who insisted if you were going to convince anyone you're on a honeymoon you need to look like you would on a date. After a nice breakfast, you grab your duffle from your room and stroll out to the helipad where Steve is already waiting with his arms crossed.

"You're late." Steve grunts as you approach.

"No I'm not. You said we leave at noon. It's noon now."

"We leave at noon means get here before."

"I told you I'd meet you here at noon. You can complain about the semantics of my arrival all you want but you're wasting the time you're so upset about me not adhering to." You say walking past him to get into the quinjet taking you into Europe. Steve stomps onto the jet behind you joining you at the front of the jet. You try not to laugh at the deep frown on his face as he prepares you for takeoff.

"We'll land in Italy where a truck is loaded up for us to take the rest of the way to our first town, and we'll be using the truck to get from town to town." Steve tells you.

"Yeah sure." You mutter grabbing your briefing file to read over again. You always read the information more than once to find anything valuable.

"Did you not- read the whole file yet?" He glances in your direction.

"Of course I did. I'm rereading. We've got like six hours to kill on this jet." You roll your eyes. You feel his gaze on you as you read but you ignore it and eventually he turns his attention back to the controls of the jet. It's in autopilot now but you're sure he'll spend the entire flight glaring at the instruments to make sure nothing goes wrong.

Once you land, you shove the folder into the bottom of your duffle and sling the bag over your shoulder beating Steve to the three agents meeting you at the landing site.

"Hello miss y/l/n." One of them nods to you.

"Hi y'all." You smile at her.

"This will be your transportation for the duration of your trip. There are supplies and gear tucked under the backseat and a radio to contact us if necessary in the center console and your passports are in the glove box." The same agent details to you, pointing to a silver fiat pickup truck. When Steve joins you one of the other agents tosses him the keys.

"We're good to go?" Steve asks the first agent.

"All set, like I was telling miss y/l/n there's emergency supplies and a radio stashed in the vehicle and your destinations are programmed into the GPS system." She nods.

"Is that such a good idea?" You ask with a frown.

"The truck is Stark tech it only says fiat to blend in because they're common in Italy but, nobody's gonna be able to track you with it, or even plot your route. It's biometrically activated." She explains.

"That's better." You nod. You throw your bag into the back of the truck and climb into the passenger seat. You grab your passport out of the glovebox the name on it says Alissa Rogers and Steve's says Grant.

"We'll be in touch." Steve nods one last time before loading his stuff in and settling into the driver's side. He pulls off quickly and you watch as the scenery changes the further you drive towards the small town you'll be staying in.

"Hope you brushed up on your Italian. You're less likely to find English speakers in the countryside like this." You say opening a snack you'd brought along in case you got hungry before you could get food.

"Tony assured me the place he booked was tourist friendly." Steve mumbles.

"I mean sure but what if you have to talk to the locals? Or will that be up to me?"

"As if you speak Italian." He scoffs.

"I speak several languages actually. Side effect of being trained to be an international spy." You shrug and Steve doesn't have a rebuttal for that so he focuses on driving and you munch away on your snacks. A short while later you make it to the small inn you'll be staying at. It's cozy looking, exactly what you'd expect for the town you drove into. It looks like the kind of place where most of the people know each other. With your bag tossed across your back, you follow Steve into the inn where he grabs the attention of the woman at the desk.

"Excuse me, hi we're looking to check in. We have a reservation. Should be under Rogers, first name Grant." Steve says smoothly with a charming smile.

"Oh yes you booked a honeymoon package!" The woman gushes happily as she types away at her keyboard. You have to refrain from reacting when she says that. Looks like it's showtime.

"Yeah we just got married, we're traveling through Europe for our honeymoon." You tell her with a fake dreamy look on your face. You even wrap your hands around Steve's arm affectionately.

"Oooo traveling through Europe! Sounds so exciting and romantic." The woman beams.

"It has been so far! We're still very early into our plans but, so far it's been everything I've dreamed of and more." You sigh softly. The woman lets out a barely there squeal about how cute you are and how lovely newlyweds tend to be before sliding your room keys onto the desk.

"Here are your keys cara mia! Try to rest if he allows." She winks at you and you laugh although the innuendo in her statement makes Steve stiffen beside you.

"Grazie! Oh! Do you have any food suggestions, we've been driving for a while to get here." You ask her.

"Ah most people cook around here but there's Nino's! It's the best place nearby. I'll give you the address." She quickly scribbles the address onto some spare paper she has at the desk and hands it to you.

"Thanks so much, ma'am. Have a good night." Steve finally finds his voice to bid the kind nonna farewell before leading you off with a hand at your back.

"Oh what a sweet old lady." You smile as you walk up the stairs to find your room.

"You settled into the lovestruck newlywed thing very quick." Steve observes.

"Well yeah, this isn't my first rodeo and honestly hopelessly in love is not even close to the hardest part I've had to play on a mission." You scoff.

"Clearly, you're very good at this."

"Yeah that's probably why Vision thought I'd be best for the job." You shrug unlocking your room and tossing your bag to the side.

"There's- only one bed." Steve points out with wide eyes.

"Of course there is. We're supposed to be a newlywed couple on our honeymoon, why would we have a room with two beds?"

"Well I can call down for extra blankets and set up on the floor or-"

"Don't be ridiculous. If you want to sleep in the bed it's king sized, I'm sure we can manage to share." You scoff.

"I just figured it'd be easier if we-"

"It's not a big deal to me Rogers, the main thing is if someone like came to the door and saw pillows and blankets set up on the floor it would hurt the hopelessly devoted story we're trying to sell."

"Hopelessly devoted?" He frowns.

"It's a song from Grease, an old 70s movie. Don't worry about it. Point is, it'll be odd if anyone sees you set up on the floor. Unless you prefer sleeping on straight wood." You shrug.

"I don't." He frowns.

"So don't make it a thing. Which by the way, you kept Rogers for this mission?"

"Yeah, Tony figured it was common enough that it wouldn't matter. Grant's my middle name."

"Hm, interesting. Well, I'm Alissa, apparently. Should we check out that restaurant the nonna suggested?"

"You feel like going to dinner?"

"I mean she said most folks around here cook so tomorrow I'll hit some of the street stands and you can try asking around subtly for any information on our target."

"Shouldn't you do the asking around? I mean what happens when I end up talking to someone that doesn't speak English?"

"You can introduce them to your gorgeous Italian speaking wife, or hope they have nothing important to say." You shrug. "I think you can handle it. You coming with me to get something to eat or not dude?"

"Uh yeah I guess."

The two of you have a semi awkward dinner playing the happy in love couple for anyone that walks pass while not really talking to each other. When you return to your room you take turns showering and getting ready for bed without saying a word to each other.

"Do you care what side you sleep on?" Steve eventually asks.

"Not particularly."

"Then I will take the side by the door. If that's okay?" Steve suggests.

"If that's what you want. Sure." You shrug tossing the comforter back and getting under it on your designated side. Why he's acting so awkward about the whole thing makes no sense to you but honestly most of his actions make no sense to you. Curled up on one side of the bed you quickly fall asleep, all the travel has certainly tired you out.

Light peaking through the curtain slowly pulls you from sleep in the morning. As you gain consciousness you get more aware of a weight across your body. A weight that doesn't move even as you shift in bed. It's an arm, attached to a body, that's apparently close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from it and the realization makes you scramble out of bed so suddenly you wake Steve too.

"You don't strike me as a cuddly sleeper Rogers." You clip. You can see in his eyes that he's struggling for a response but you grab your duffle and rush into the bathroom before he can find one. You get yourself together and leave pretty quickly with a comment to Steve about making sure he does what you agreed on when he gets on with his day.

With a tote in hand, you scan the different stands in town stopping to buy various produce and things. By the time you'd settled in yesterday and doubled back out for dinner most of the town had gone quiet, it's nice to see everyone out now and survey things. When you're looking at some bracelets at one shop, you overhear a conversation between the woman behind the counter and someone sitting off to the side near her. They're speaking in Italian but you clearly catch one of them gushing about the increase in handsome foreigners in their small town. You giggle a bit, loud enough for them to notice.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to interject." You smile apologetically, speaking to them in Italian. "I just caught the last bit of your conversation and well, I take it you've met my husband is all."

"The American is your husband?" One of them gasps.

"Yes he is. Was he here?" You ask her.

"Briefly, he said he was looking for 'trinkets' for friends." The one behind the counter says to you. She says trinkets in English with a confused scrunch of her nose.

"Sounds like him. Do you see a lot of Americans here?" You ask.

"No not Americans often. There was a really handsome German here a couple of days ago." She shakes her head.

"German? Really?" You blink.

"Oh yeah, I remember him. He was tall and thin with a beard and big round glasses and his eyes were bright, almost yellow." The seated woman says.

"Yeah! He didn't talk much but he was much friendlier by the time he left and he spoke with a heavy accent." The lady behind the register adds.

"Was he here long?"

"Probably around 3 weeks." The woman at the register says.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"Well he asked me where the next town to us was, even had me point it out on a map." She tells you.

"Interesting. Must be nice to see new faces sometimes. I'll take these two bracelets." You say placing two items on the counter. With all that chatting you definitely need to buy something before leaving, plus they're so cute you're sure Wanda will love them. The woman checks you out and after a bit more looking around, you head back to your hotel. There's a kitchen on the main floor that you can use to prepare food since that's the norm, plus with this information you'll probably be on your way in the morning. When you return to your room, Steve isn't there, which is fine, you take advantage of the empty suite to take a long hot shower. Eventually you step out and put on lotion before stepping out into the room to grab your clothes.

"You take incredibly long showers." Steve's voice makes you jump as you notice him at the desk in the corner.

"Holy fucking hell." You hiss clutching your chest.

"Forgot you shared this room?"

"No, you weren't here when I got back, hence the long shower, and I didn't realize you were back." You huff, using your towel as a cover you pull on your underwear and shorts. Steve's head is focused on whatever he's reading over at the desk so you let the towel drop to put on your sleep shirt with your back to him.

"You should really pay better attention to your surroundings." Steve mutters.

"Fuck off." You scoff.

"I'm just saying you should totally have noticed I was in here before I spoke."

"Who cares man? Did you find anything interesting out today?"

"Not much, I talked to some guys about visitors but none of them had a lot to say, just that sometimes they come."

"Well I heard a German man was here for around three weeks before asking for directions to the next town over."

"Really? Where did you hear that?"

"Some women in a jewelry store."

"And you think this is legit?"

"I mean it's just street gossip so I don't have a way to verify really but it's definitely a promising lead."

"You're sure it's the right man? I mean 'a German' doesn't exactly scream Müller was here."

"Well I couldn't slap a photo in front of them and ask for clarification but they described him as tall and thin with a beard and big round glasses and bright 'almost yellow' eyes. I dunno I'd say that's a pretty close match if you ask me."

"You found information pretty quickly."

"There are very few things that transcend language, borders, gender et cetera, one of them is that people like to gossip. You find the right people and ask the right questions they will tell you any and everything."

"Then we need to move."

"In the morning."

"Why would we not move now? We have a lead we shouldn't let it go cold."

"If the women from the shop were telling the truth chances are he'll be there a couple weeks before we have to worry about him moving. I think we can afford to start fresh in the morning. Plus we don't have a plan. If we move now it's impulsive and foolish."

"We have a plan, find this guy and apprehend him."

"That's not a plan that's an objective. How do we find him Rogers? And how do we move when we do find him? Are you implying we just tackle him in the middle of town if that's where we see him? I mean even a half-baked skeleton of an idea is better than absolutely nothing." You roll your eyes.

"Do you have a plan you'd like to propose?" He glares at you.

"No, that's why I'm saying we wait til morning. So we have time to come up with one. He's probably going to be there for a couple weeks, we have 8 hours to spare."

"You don't know that."

"Obviously I don't, but he doesn't know we're looking for him he has no reason to rush out of there. If he was here for 3 weeks why would he leave there in 2 days?"

"Fine! We will leave tomorrow morning. Bright and early. 8am."

"Yes sir, drill sergeant." You say with a mock salute. "I'm going to make food downstairs, would you like some?"

"Trying to poison me?"

"If I were, you wouldn't know until it was too late." You smile.

"In that case, I'll pass."

"Suit yourself. If you wanna make yourself something, there are more groceries." You shrug grabbing a few things you need before leaving the room. You make yourself dinner and sit in the lobby to eat, chatting with the woman at the desk, it's the same nonna who checked you in so you offer her some food while you talk. Eventually, you head back up to your room where Steve is still hunched over the desk.

"Okay. So when we get there tomorrow we need to focus on finding him while keeping a low profile so we can figure out the most effective way to apprehend him." Steve says.

"Do we have an extraction plan?"

"I mean I've thought of a couple ways to go about it, if he's in a lodging situation, like this one, we should try for stealth. Moving at night would be the safest choice, to minimize the likelihood of civilian endangerment. If he's staying somewhere alone, apprehension isn't super important, if he's staying somewhere with someone I'd say again stealth is-"

"That's fine I guess but not at all what I meant. Do we have a plan for getting us and him back to the US? Because this was expected to take at least a week and at this rate, we'll be ready to move in like half that time."

"I... will contact the team when we're on the road in the morning and we'll plan our apprehending around how quickly they can mobilize." Steve says.

"Good." You say crawling into bed with a book. You put on music and read quietly while Steve does, who knows what at the desk. He eventually gets up and shuffles into the bathroom. You hear the shower running for a while before he comes out in shorts, using a towel to dry his hair. You barely glance up from your novel as he pads around the room. You don't speak with Steve for the rest of the night. You read, and he does whatever he does until you both eventually turn in at different times.

The next morning you wake to the sound of shuffling around you and when you open your eyes Steve is darting around the room.

"Good. You're awake. Get up and get ready so we can leave." Steve says curtly.

"What's the matter Stevie? Not much of a morning person?" You snark back without getting out of bed.

"I looked it up, the drive we're in for is almost four hours. The sooner we get on the road the better so we can actually get this done. Which means I need you to get up so we can get out of here."

"Sounds to me like you need a Snickers." You snort.

"Excuse me?" His head snaps to you with narrowed eyes.

"A snickers, you know, the candy bar- their slogan is 'you're not you when you're hungry' I'm making a joke about you being cranky- I cannot believe I just had to explain that to you. You really are a grumpy old man, you'd give Scrooge a run for his money sheesh." You scoff, finally pushing yourself out of bed.

"Are you just going to make silly pop culture references all day?" He rolls his eyes.

"Who knew you'd be such a Grinch so early."

"So that's a yes? The Grinch is a Christmas movie."

"So is Scrooge but they're grumpy all year round it's just worse around the holidays. Which begs the question, is the attitude just for little ol me, or does the Italian countryside always make you this prickly?" You smirk.

"Just. Get. Dressed." He says through clenched teeth. You roll your eyes at his grumbly attitude and grab your clothes to change in the bathroom.

"There's some fruit amongst the groceries by the way. I suggest you have one, might put some pep in your step." You taunt before shutting your bathroom door.

"It won't be so bad! Maybe you'll find a way to connect with him! Steve's not a complex man." You mock all your friends in the mirror as you put yourself together. "Complex?! God, I wish! He's about as complex as a cardboard box with half the personality. Honestly if only he were complex that'd be so much easier." You rant to yourself. "Thank the stars the universe practically dropped this guy's location in our lap because there is no way I'd survive a week with this guy." You grumble. You change your clothes and brush your teeth letting out one more deep breath before leaving the bathroom.

"Alright. Ready to go when you are." You say tossing your things into your bag and zipping it up.

"Good. Let's go." Steve grabs his bag and practically storms out of your hotel room without a second thought. You pick up your duffle and what's left of the produce you brought and trot down to the lobby where Steve's already checking you out.

"Hello!" You smile at the woman behind the desk.

"Hello darling! So sad to see you go so soon!" She smiles at you.

"We'd love to stay longer but there's so much to see and not nearly enough hours of our trip." You say wrapping your arm around Steve's and resting your head on his shoulder dreamily "Isn't that right Grant?" You sigh.

"Yeah! We've got so many plans! But the stay here has been lovely." Steve says smiling at you with kindness that even you almost believe is sincere. It makes you want to put ten feet between you and you have to force yourself not to react outwardly. With one last goodbye to the woman at the counter, you and Steve leave the hotel and load your things into your truck. As soon as Steve starts driving he uses the communication system to contact Tony.

"Rogers. Status report?"

"We have a lead that we're following and need to know how quickly we can be extracted from Italy if we've successfully located the target." Steve tells him.

"Have you located the target?" Tony asks.

"I spoke to a woman that says she gave our target directions to another town over so we suspect he'll be there." You interject.

"What if he's moved?" Tony asks.

"Well based on what the woman said, he was around for a few weeks before he left so I think it's safe to say he's likely still there." You say.

"We can extract you as quickly as tonight if you're able to apprehend the target."

"That would be-"

"Too soon. Can you plan for an extraction tomorrow morning?" You cut Steve off and he shoots you a glare momentarily.

"Tomorrow morning?" Tony clarifies.

"Yes. Assuming our lead is correct we'll be ready to go early in the morning." You say.

"Yeah sure. We'll get you a jet and leave it in a holding pattern. Say, 6am?" Tony asks.

"That should give us enough time. If something changes we'll let you know." You say. Tony mumbles an affirmative before disconnecting and you put your headphones on for the remainder of the drive with your head in your book. When the four hour drive ends and Steve pulls up to where you'll be staying you push open the door and hop out of the truck. Steve sorts out your room with the owner of the small hotel you're staying in and practically slams the door when you're in your room.

"Why would you tell Tony to set us up for tomorrow and not tonight? If they could be ready tonight we should take tonight!"

"I thought we were on the same mission but it appears that you are somewhere else because we don't even know where this man is. We just got here and even if we walked outside and saw him right now we can't exactly snatch him in the middle of the day. What happened to that spiel about 'stealth to minimize the likelihood of endangering civilians'? If they plan to extract us tonight that is not a reasonable timeframe and I'm sure you know that. You're just picking fights for no reason." You roll your eyes. Not to mention he waited hours to bring it back up- who stews this long over a departure time?

"Eight hours seems like a pretty reasonable timeframe for me. My fault for overestimating your capabilities."

"If you think I couldn't do this shit in eight hours you're smoking. On my own, I'd have no problem with an eight hour timeline but we are not the team that can be rushing into a mission like this when we don't know what the details are. Honestly Rogers whatever your fucking problem is table it. We have someone to find and we're pretty far from the landing pad so we need to be done and on our way in like twelve hours. I am going to start tracking down our target so we can actually arrest this guy. Skulk in here if you want." You grab your sunglasses and (mostly prop) tote bag and leave Steve in your room. You can't fathom why Steve is annoyed that you asked for a few extra hours to make sure you can actually complete this mission but that's his problem. The sun feels nice on your skin as you walk around surveying people from behind your big sunglasses. When you walk into a small cafe after some time and scan the few customers you almost miss the face you've memorized from your briefing file. He's sitting in a corner eating with a newspaper. You order something small to not raise suspicion and eat it quickly before exiting the shop. There are lots of places to give you a vantage point of the cafe's entrance so you pick one and wait out of sight for Müller to come out. Eventually, he strolls out of the cafe and turns left so carefully, using buildings as cover, you follow Müller for some time. He doesn't stop anywhere until he comes to a small house at basically the edge of town. You watch the house for a while hoping that he'll leave for you to check it out a bit closer. When it starts to pass a half hour you ruffle through your tote for one of the random prototype gadets Tony's always giving you to test out. One of the things is a little box holding a buglike device. You remember him explaining this one, it's supposed to do surveillance. You open the box and turn it on, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket indicating it's connected. You locate an open window and release the camera bug towards Müller's house, making sure it gets inside before heading back to your hotel to make a plan.

"What have you been doing for the last two hours?" Steve asks as soon as you walk back into your room.

"Tracking Müller. Like I said I would. Did you just sit and sulk?"

"No." Steve glares. "Did you find him?"

"Yes I did. It looks like he's staying alone too." You say passing your phone to Steve for him to see the footage from the bug camera.

"Wait you planted a camera?"

"I saw him in town and followed him til he ended up at this house. Then I used one Tony's little doodads. It's a camera the size of a bug that can fly like one too."

"So you know where this is?"

"Yes I do. It's practically at the edge of town. We should have no problem getting to him later."

"Okay." He nods. "Alright so here's what we'll do. We'll track him with this camera til nightfall and then we'll go get him. It should be quick, sneak in knock him out and get him loaded into the truck."

"Yeah okay." You nod, taking your phone back from Steve. Periodically you check the camera bug that follows Müller around his temporary home over the next several hours. Just before the sun goes down, you notice something odd when you're checking the footage. Müller's moving frantically about, it looks like- he's packing.

"Müller's on the move." You say grabbing the keys to the truck and rushing out of your hotel. Steve runs out behind you.

"Y-Alissa wait!" Steve calls as you start the truck and he almost doesn't get in quick enough as you pull away. "Geez y/n where's the fire?" He asks.

"It looks very much like Müller is about to get the hell outta dodge. We need to move now." You say.

"Wait a second this is very much not what we were planning to-"

"Yeah well that's gonna have to change the man is packing his bags as we speak."

"Are you sure that's what you saw I mean-"

"Rogers argue with me later." You grumble out. Driving, the trip to Müller's is much shorter and you're there in only a few minutes. You hop out immediately even as Steve calls for you to give it a minute. No way are you letting him get away when he's right here. You burst into the small home, that's really just one room and shock the man inside so hard he almost trips. He's quick to get his barings though and lunges at you, grabbing a kitchen knife on his way towards you. You dodge him pretty easily even though he weilds the knife much better than you'd expect of a labcoat. He manages a couple scratches before disarm him and take him down with a plate to the head.

"Dammit y/n. I told you to wait." Steve grits out angrily as you drag Müller towards the truck that's still running.

"What's the big deal? We got our guy." You shrug, folding Müller into the backseat awkwardly."

"Maybe you were too busy charging like a bull to notice that we've drawn attention." He hisses.

"So let's hit the fucking road." You roll your eyes and climb into the passenger seat of the car. Steve lets out an angry huff but gets in the driver side and begins your trip back to the launch pad in central Italy. It'll take you most of the night to get there but you let Tony know to expedite the jet since you'll definitely be there before 6am. At some point, you have to sedate Müller when he starts to groan in the back seat. By the time you make it to the launch pad, agents are waiting with the jet.

"Agent y/l/n, Captain Rogers. Welcome back." One of the agents nods at you both when you exit the truth.

"Hey Jackson. Müller's in the backseat- mind grabbing him for me?" You smile as you tug your duffle out of the car.

"Of course." He nods opening the back door and hauling Müller's still unconscious body from the truck to the jet with ease.

"I could've handled that." Steve says to you.

"Who cares? I probably could've handled it too but we have bags to grab and the fewer trips the better." You roll your eyes.

"The jet's fueled and prepped for takeoff and our reports indicate clear weather so it should be smooth travels." Agent Jackson says to you, although Steve is likely going to monopolize flying.

"Thanks. Then I guess we'll be off." You say heading onto the jet. You toss your bag down and take a moment to secure Müller to the seat he's in at the back of the jet while Steve talks to the agents for a few minutes before following you into the aircraft.

"Make sure he's secure." Steve tosses at you as he passes.

"No shit Sherlock." You roll your eyes, getting into your seat up front next to him and strapping yourself in as he prepares to fly.

"If he wakes midair we don't wanna worry about him ambushing us."

"First of all what're the chances that guy would even be able to take us both? Secondly, I'm not an idiot, he's chained to that seat. Even if he wakes up he's not going anywhere." You scoff.

"To your question; better safe than sorry."

"Yeah whatever." You mutter.

"Not whatever, in fact, speaking of, you were extremely reckless last night." Steve says sternly.

"I was instinctive."

"Oh please. You rushed over there without a plan, ignored my instructions, and charged in carelessly. What if he was armed? Not to mention the fact that people noticed that something was going on. You could've gotten somebody hurt."

"First of all he was armed technically and as you can see, not a scratch on me so can it. You saw just as well as I did that he was packing his things Rogers, the man was about ready to flee and we could not lose him."

"We had a plan-"

"Plans change Rogers its not the end of the world."

"It is when you put people at risk dang it. If you had just followed-"

"If I didn't move when I did we could've missed our chance entirely. He wouldn't be here if I followed 'the plan' that didn't account for a frantic relocation of our target. I made sure the mission got done and the only person at risk was myself which would be the case regardless because that comes with the territory."

"You-"

"God are you two married or something?" Müller's voice shocks you even as you and Steve respond immediately.

"NO!" You shout together.

"You argue like a couple." Müller muses.

"You are so very wrong about that assumption." You scoff.

"Well I was only pointing out-"

"Don't. As a matter of fact if you speak again Müller you'll spend the remainder of this flight strapped to the outside of the jet like a cannoe."

"Can you even do that?"

"Do you really wanna find out?" You glare at him. That effectively shuts him up and cuts your argument with Steve short so the rest of your flight is flown in silence. When you land, it's you who unchains Müller from his seat and puts him cuffs to drag him out of the jet.

"Thank God that's over, the tension between you and the obstinate man was getting unbearable." Müller says.

"Whatever you were sensing was not tension. We barely get along." You roll your eyes.

"Does he know that?"

"Excuse me?"

"When you aren't paying attention he looks at you as if you're responsible for the stars in the sky."

"Those glasses of yours must be the wrong prescription." You scoff.

"You may think me many things but a fool should never be one. You might not agree but some things are easier to observe as an outsider."

"When it comes to people I'd take advice from a Nazi scientist is absolutely not on the list so please save it." You say.

"Y/n! We'll take him from here." An agent grabs your attention as you make it to the building. The walk from the helipad has never felt so long.

"Consider what I said." Müller says as he's dragged off.

"What he said?" Steve frowns from behind you.

"Just- mindless blathering." You grumble walking off to your room. You are not about to let some idiot you just met with no idea who you are get in your head about something he absolutely does not understand.

"Y/N! YOU'RE BACK!" Wanda bursts into your room just after you've closed he door.

"You are- always the first to find me." You chuckle as she throws her arms around you.

"I missed you so much! I almost called you like five times."

"Wanda I was only gone for like four days." You laugh.

"And the HBIC has returned." Natasha strolls in and sits on your bed.

"Hello to you too Nat." You chuckle.

"So? How was it?" Wanda asks.

"Well I didn't shove a dagger between his shoulderblades." You shrug and Natasha laughs.

"Oh come on, that can't be all you've got to say." Wanda scoffs.

"Honestly Wanda not stabbing him in the spine is a pretty raving review for a mission where I had to pretend to be his honeymooning wife."

"Did you even have to play the loving couple?" Natasha asks.

"Well when we got to the first place the woman checking us in was a lovely old Italian woman who was very interested in the fact that we were honeymooning so around her we did have to do the hand holding and dreamy sighing for her sake." You shrug.

"You made it back pretty quickly." Natasha points out.

"I'm efficient." You shrug.

"What does that mean?" Wanda asks.

"It means I tracked down Müller with the help of some gossiping women in town and good old fashion espionage then I made sure he didn't get away once we found him by apprehending him when I realized he was definitely about to vacate. Much to Steve's dismay apparently."

"His dismay?" Wanda frown.

"He lectured me twice because we had a plan and I had to make a change last minute when I saw the guy frantically packing his bags on our little surveillance bug."

"Wait so what was his problem?" Natasha frowned.

"We had a plan and I couldn't follow it. If I'd listened to him we totally would've lost Müller all together. He just hates when he's not the one calling the shots. It's like any decision I make that's not his idea is wrong. I know I said I don't hate him but man does he make it hard to believe that."

"The way you butt heads- I can't believe you made it home and in four days no less." Nat shakes her head.

"Like I said I'm efficient. And personal feelings will never stop me from completing a mission. You can say lots of things about me but you'd be lying if you said I don't do my job well." You shrug. A knock on your doorframe grabs your attention to find Steve standing in the still open doorway of your bedroom.

"Hi Nat, Wanda." He nods to them.

"Welcome back Steve!" Wanda waves.

"Hey Rogers." Natasha nods.

"Y/n, we need to talk." Steve says looking at you.

"If you're going to complain again about me not sticking to your plan save your breath. I have better things to do and if you have that much free time I suggest you follow my example and find a better way to spend it." You roll your eyes.

"It's not that."

"Then what do you want?"

"Alone, please." Steve glances at Natasha and Wanda who look at you.

"Go. I'll talk to you later girls." You tell them and they quickly slip out of your room. "Make it quick Rogers I just spent 4 days with you and I think that is plenty for us for a while."

"What Müller was saying-"

"On the jet? He's an idiot, who cares? As if anyone with sense would assume we're married the way we argue." You scoff.

"Not on the jet. After we landed. His, 'mindless blathering' as you put it."

"Are you expecting a play by play of that conversation because it was so inconsequential I've already forgotten most of it-"

"I heard him. My hearing is- better than average so, I know what he said."

"So did you just ask for funsies earlier?" You frown.

"Well no I just wondered what you'd say about it."

"He doesn't know either of us so I have nothing to say about it. The ramblings of some criminal are the last thing on my mind so if you've come here to tell me not to pay him attention I already wasn't-"

"You are so frustrating." Steve huffs out.

"Excuse me? What is your problem?!" You blink at him.

"My problem is you! You are my sole source of torment!"

"The fact that you are a boring bitch is not my fault! How am I the source of your torment you walking piece of styrofoam!?"

"Oh where do I begin with you?! Your smile makes my heart ache!"

"Yeah well you- wait, what?" Your eyes widen as you process his words, retort dying when you realize he didn't actually insult you.

"You walk into a room and it immediately lights up. Your laugh is better than symphonies. You are so effortlessly so amazing that you've enthralled me without trying. It's incredibly annoying." He rattles off.

"I- I'm really confused." You frown.

"Damn it y/n I'm in love with you!" He forces out. Plot twist. You totally did not see that coming.

"You're in love with me?"

"Somehow yes and everything you do makes it worse. It's infuriating to know my life is no longer mine and that is in in fact yours."

"This is the most paradoxical love confession I've ever gotten. Do you want, an apology or a date?" You ask.

"Wait- what?" Now it's his turn to give you a wide eyed stare.

"Well, you're in love with me but you seem to be very... inconvenienced by it so- should I be saying sorry or telling you to plan a date for Friday night?"

"Wait y-you'd go on a date with me?" His brow furrows.

"If you'd ask me on one."

"I thought you hated me?"

"You're critical of everything I do. So I intentionally get on your nerves. If I had known it was because you had a crush on me I might've been nicer to you. We aren't in kindergarten though Steve being mean to someone you like doesn't get you anywhere." You cross your arms.

"So- will you go on a date with me?"

"Yes I'll go on a date with you. Does Friday night work for you?"

"Friday's Perfect. I'll- let you know the details once I sort them out."

"Alright. I'm going to finish unpacking. I'll see you around." You smile.

"Kay." Steve's cheeks tinge slightly pink as he smiles at you in that shy 'you make me nervous way'.

"Anything else?" You ask when he doesn't move.

"Oh! N-no. I- I'm gonna go." He tells you.

"Okay. See ya." You chuckle as he scrambles out of your room. You can't believe you have a date with Steve Rogers. He may not be a complex man but he sure is a confusing one. To think all those times he was picking fights with you was because he had a crush- you almost hate the way it makes you giddy to think about it. But honestly who could stand a chance against a love confession like that? His life is yours?! You've never even heard him speak so dramatically before. When he came in here you said four days was more than enough time for you to spend to gehter and now well, let's just say you can't wait for Friday.

***

#marvel fanfiction #marvel #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america fanfiction

375 notes · View notes

doll-elvis · 1 year

Note

I’ve seen these photos of Priscilla on Pinterest and she looks so upset, do you know if there’s any back story behind these photos

hello and thank you very much for sending in this ask ꨄ︎!!

I’ve always been too distracted by that absolute unit of strawberry-blonde hair on Priscilla’s head to notice her expression but after closer observation I think you’re completely right in your assessment of her mood- sis was looking like she would rather be anywhere else 😭

after a quick google search and finding out that these photos were taken in April (sometime after the 23rd) of 1966, her expression started to make all the more sense

and not only is the date important for the context of these photos, but that unit of hair could also be very important

just a quick disclaimer: since Priscilla herself hasn’t spoken on these photos anything I say below is merely my own speculation as to why she may have looked upset on that day

To begin, according to Peter Guralnick's "Careless Love”, Elvis had just finished filming for his 22nd picture Spinout, in California, when he returned to Memphis with Priscilla on April 23rd. And so by knowing that they were photographed together in the meditation garden sometime in April, it’s safe to assume it was likely after the 23rd as they were in California for the weeks before

The film Spinout is relevant in this as 1. His costar was Shelley Fabares who he had a crush on 2. One of Elvis’ and Priscilla’s biggest arguments occurred during the filming of Spinout while they were in California and the cause of their argument was reason number one… Shelley Fabares

Both the Memphis Mafia and Shelley herself have confirmed that the relationship never went beyond anything platonic as she was faithful to her partner but nonetheless Elvis and her spent a lot of time together and formed a close bond

Naturally, Priscilla became suspicious that an affair was taking place and so she expressed to Elvis that she wanted to meet Shelley which then led to the first time that he had ever threatened get rid of her ⬇️

(read from left to right + click photos to see full text)

excerpt is from “Elvis and Me” by Priscilla Presley

(I believe this argument will appear in the upcoming film as Jacob Elordi says the line “I don’t have a goddamn thing to hide” in the recently released trailer)

No exact day was given for when this argument took place, it could have been the first week of filming or it could have been the last, but I would imagine having Elvis tell you to get all your things and leave would cause a lasting sort of sadness and have you questioning just how important you were to him even after going back to Memphis/Graceland

And this kind of thing actually happened a few times while they were together. Sonny West once said that Elvis’ greatest defense was offense meaning that if you were to approach him about something i.e Priscilla approaching him about his infidelities, Elvis’ response would be to turn the tables and put the pressure on you i.e telling Priscilla that he wanted her gone ⬇️

excerpt is from “Elvis: What Happened?” By Sonny and Red West, along with Dave Hebler

Another instance ⬇️

excerpt is from “Elvis and the Memphis Mafia” by Alanna Nash

Tbh as much as I love Elvis this is why I do hold a lot of sympathy for the friends and women in his life (even the ones I don’t personally like) because he tended to give ultimatums as a way to get what he wanted

“If you don’t like this, then leave… if you don’t want to do this, then leave…” and he did that because he knew most people would choose to stay

Now, the significance of that unit of strawberry blonde hair is purely speculative, but I'm wondering whether Priscilla started dyeing her hair that color to resemble Ann Margret as Elvis was quite melancholic over the fact that Ann and her boyfriend Roger Smith were spending so much time together during that time, infact, they were engaged just 2 months later in June of 1966

The affair between Ann Margret and Elvis lasted only a year after they met while filming Viva Las Vegas, so it doesn't make much sense that Priscilla would start dying her hair strawberry-blonde 3 years later (although she did try to emulate Ann in 1963) but it could be possible, and knowing that Elvis was still thinking about Ann Margret in April of 1966 would definitely be enough to make her upset at the time

What do y’all think?

#priscilla presley #priscilla #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis history #elvis fans #elvis photos #60s Elvis #elvis asks #elvis and priscilla

122 notes · View notes

francissimon1 · 10 months

Text

"Give Me Some Space" - Steve Rogers

A/N: Hey, this is my first time writing on here! I hope to reach a lot of people who are interested in marvel via tumblr! If you have any requests on future stories, please message me (if you can) or leave a suggestion for the next one in the comments! Leading up to Christmas, I'll post for the 12 days of Christmas and give you different stories with the characters. So, let's get into it!

Y/N and Steve had been invited to a party by Tony just 'because'. Tony enjoyed having parties just for the sake of it. The last party, which was around 3 months ago, is where she met her current boyfriend, Steve. They both loved each other so dearly and cherished each day they had together as they both knew Steve's line of work was dangerous.

The night of the party came, Y/N was pretty nervous as there were some new additions to the team that she hadn't met yet.

"You ready yet, babe?" Steve shouted up the stairs "Yeah, gimme a sec!" "Come on, you've taken age-" he stopped mid sentence as he saw her. He smiled widely and sighed, "Holy shit," he paused, "You look.. great!" She laughs "I guess taking ages was worth it if I'm gonna get that reaction!"

He gently takes her hand and leads he to the car, opening the door for her.

"Oh what a gentleman!" she exclaims and laughs. "You know me!" he smiles

As you drive to the party, she sees the bustling vibrant night life beginning to come to life. Y/N had never really been out in New York since she moved here. She was a more stay in a quiet place type. Steve stops the car when they finally arrive at Tony's party and are greeted by Tony on the door. He shakes Steve's hand and hugs Y/N.

"You look wonderful! Very sparkly!" He says as you walk past him "Thanks, Tony. I really tried today!" she says back.

Steve takes her hand again, in a more protective and demanding kind of way. He hated when other men gave her compliments. Y/N was his as far as he was concerned, not anybody else's.

During the night, Y/N laughs and drinks with everyone and even have a few dances with them all. However, as it gets later, she begins to feel more awkward with the people as she's away from Steve. Y/N spots him sitting down with a drink, and walks over to him.

"Babe, you coming for a dance?" she says to him "Nah, I'm okay" he retorts.

Disappointed by his answer, Y/N awkwardly sits on the small space of chair left next to him.

"Please, Steve. I wanna have a dance with you! I wanna enjoy this night with you!"

"I said I'm okay, Y/N. I don't dance! I don't like dancing. Never have, never will." he spits back.

Y/N sighs and storms back onto the dance floor, leaving Steve to be in his bad mood.

"What's his issue?" Tony says, nodding towards Steve

"He doesn't wanna dance!"

"His loss, I guess."

The night continues and the music grows louder and louder every hour. The dance floor is crowded with couples dancing with each other. She looks back over at Steve and decides to ask him to dance again.

"Steve, baby, please! Come dance with me!" she puts her arms around his neck and rests her chin on his shoulder.

"No, Y/N! God, you're so fucking clingy!" he roars, pushing her away from him and standing up.

"Steve, please. Don't make a scene!" she pleads back

"No, Y/N! You're so damn clingy it's unreal. You can't even go one night without pestering me and trying to force me into something I don't wanna do!" he screams

"Steve," she pauses, "I.. I didn't.. I wasn't trying to force you to do anything, Steve! I just wanted to have a dance with you because it looks like that's what every other couple is doing here now, Steve!"

"Well, I don't want to, Y/N! Just give me some space!" he pushes past her and storms out of the doors into the open air.

She stands there awkwardly, feeling everyone's eyes on her. She sighs and sits on the couch.

At around 3 a.m, the party finishes and Y/N gets into the car with Steve. The ride back home is much more awkward and isn't as fun as the ride to the party.

"Steve," she pauses "I'm so-"

he cuts her off

"I don't wanna hear it, Y/N. You always say you're sorry but never seem to change!"

"Steve, I just wanted to spend time with you, that's all. I just wanted to look normal for once and act like a normal couple!"

Steve stays silent.

"Oh the silent treatment, huh? Yeah, real mature." she sighs and stares out of the window.

After a long and tense ride home, they pull up onto the drive. Steve quickly gets out of the driver's seat, slams the door and goes into the house. She follows shortly after him. As she enters, she sees him coming down the stairs with a small bag.

"Steve?", she says with urgency, "Where are you going?"

"I need a break."

"What?"

"I need a break from you. I need you to change. I need space and time away from you. I hate how clingy and needy you are!"

Before she could say anything to get him to stay, he charges out of the door. He slams the door behind him, leaving her standing there in their shared home alone for the first time in 4 months.

"Am I really that bad?"

Her eyes well with tears and one finally escapes and rolls down her face as she stares at the door.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #marvel #mcu #captain america #avengers

48 notes · View notes

luna-rainbow · 4 months

Note

do you think steve was depressed and/or had suicidal tendencies in the mcu (especially in catws)?

on one hand i hate it when people believe he can't have any mental health struggles because he's captain america (what kind of weird argument is that??). or becauce he didn't have a mental breakdown in the movies. but on the other hand i'm not sure if it was ever the intention of the writers portraying steve as someone who has to deal with these kind of issues.

I keep having a strange sense of deja vu like I’ve answered the exact same ask before, but I can’t find it 😕

Similarly to interpreting any Bucky and Steve-Bucky scenes, the movies are a product of writer intent, directorial intent, actor intent, and editorial intent.

What I mean is that the writer has one version of the story they’ve pumped into the script. That script is open to interpretation by both the director and the actor. The director has an overall vision of where the story arcs are for all the characters. The actor is the one most likely to have researched in depth about their character’s background, and also deep-dived into their psyche. So while the directorial vision might be important for the tonal cohesiveness of the story, there’s also a lot of personal touches and subtleties a character actor can add. Finally, the editor is the one who snips all the scenes together, usually with directorial oversight, but don’t underestimate what effect a well-placed juxtaposition or a perfectly timed melancholic piano tune might have on how much emotional impact a scene gives.

That’s a long-winded way of saying — I don’t think there was writer or director intention on making Steve depressed, but I believe there was actor intent. I get the sense that Steve is intended to be written as having the personality of the perfect soldier (we need to acknowledge that the MCU is intended to be pro-military): calm under storm, stoic, brave, quick-thinking, valiant, not easily swayed by emotions unless it involves Bucky, etc.

And I think CEvans looked at the history of Steve Rogers, both his comics version who went all the way to grand canyon just to mourn his lost partner, and his movies version, who spent the entire first movie breaking rules for Bucky's sake and spent his only tears on him, and said well I know where Steve's emotional fulcrum is. As an actor, it's much more interesting to peer into the emotional motivations under an outwardly stoic shell, than to just pretend Steve has no thoughts, only soldiering.

So CEvans acted a guy who was still feeling displaced from home. He's still searching for home, he's searching for trust and safety, he's keeping the lid on grief and doubt, he's pushing himself forward but not really knowing if there's a goal in sight and not knowing if he wants to keep walking. So yeah...even if he were not textbook depressed, he's certainly not in a good mental state.

As for suicidal tendencies...I'm on the fence about this (although I know a lot of people do think he did). The long explanation of it is - all of us make decisions by judging the risks, and all of us have taken actions that have a real risk of death (even driving, for example). There's always some debate about whether going for sufficiently high-risk activities (e.g. skydiving, motocross, managing a nuclear plant etc) means you're "suicidal" or "thrill seeking" or...simply doing something you believe in. Being a soldier is inherently a very high-risk job (especially at the time Steve enlisted) - so was it suicidal, or was it a person in a normal state of mind weighing up the risks against his values, and saying "despite the real risk of death, I will nevertheless do it because I believe it needs to be done"? Even his actions of leaping off the Quinjet in the beginning of CATWS - that was a very calculated jump. Was that suicidal, or him being perfectly attuned to his own limits?

And similarly, when he said to Bucky, "Then finish it, I'm with you to the end of the line," was he suicidal, or was he simply accepting the real risk of death - as he had had to do every day in this job - while challenging someone he had always trusted to have his back this one last time?

#steve rogers #stucky #steve rogers meta #asks #tw: suicide

16 notes · View notes

valfeathers · 2 years

Note

One of the stories of L's backstory that I've created in the back of my mind that will keep me up at night is how L had (intially) GENUINELY thought that he'd be taken care of when Watari brought him to the Wammy's House only to be groomed unrelentlessly, bent in all shapes to find the perfect mould, stripped of his human rights and watch as other kids his age or younger went through the same cycle of abuse.

anon,, you GET IT. you understand it. how/when did you read my mind??

i cant help but truly feel for him sometimes. of course, he isn’t perfect but i truly 1000% believe he deserved normalcy & love instead of whatever half-assed guardianship he was given. a child is just that. a child.

child L wasn’t an investment or a new project or the next prodigy or justice incarnate, he was just a kid. i recently read L file no.15 and it just made me sad to watch the beginning of this kid’s life-altering ‘career’ when all he wanted was a challenging puzzle.

i read watari realising that L was intelligent beyond his years & thinking ‘i can do something with this’

quillish wammy wasn’t a father, he was an inventor. he invested in L, and that isn’t raising someone.

and ofc watching the same thing happen to other wammy children while watari & roger look for his replacement,, that screams ‘you’re expendable & replaceable’.

which i’m sure is a very interesting thing to internalise.

(ofc i interpret L’s whole induction into wammy’s & backstory as. well. tragic but that’s just my interpretation 😭 i just think about L too much for my own good)

i always include L among the Wammy Victims™️ for this reason, it’s just presented differently because he’s the blueprint for the others. but that still isn’t good. that’s still damaging.

and he didn’t deserve to go through that.

#im sorry if none of this made any sense lol im rambling #i have mixed feelings about watari & L’s dynamic #but getting back into dn i cant see watari as any sort of positive father figure anymore #not to say he was cruel #he wasnt #but as L’s guardian he was negligent of his needs #bcs i think he saw him as more of an investment than a son #and i think L knows this too #asks #death note #and im not trying to take his agency as a character away #but even smart people can be taken advantage of #especially by somebody they trust #welcome to ‘v rambles about l lawliet’#v wammyposting

88 notes · View notes

whimsicallyenchantedrose · 1 year

Text

Season 2 Rewatch Drabbles--2x22 And Straight on Til Morning

Summary: A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my rewatch of season 2 of Once Upon a Time as an attempt to finally jump start the muse again. There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season. Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on the very beginnings of Captain Swan’s epic love story, as soon as a certain dashing pirate makes his appearance.

Word Count: 766 (why did I think I could stick to a word count again?)

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @nickillian @gillie @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @kmomof4 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch @allyourdarlingswans @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64 @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (17.5) (18) (19) (20) (21-22)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma stared in horrified disbelief at the calm waters that had only moments before been a swirling portal which had swallowed up Greg, Tamara and Henry. The panic threatened to drown her. Not only did she have no way to get to her son, no way to save him, she didn’t even know where he’d gone.

Oh God, what was she going to do? What was she going to do?

So far today, they’d discovered Regina missing and found her in the cannery, Tamara had killed Neal and then sent him through a portal to who knows where, Regina had dropped the bomb about the failsafe that was about to literally kill them all, Hook had returned to help them, Hook had screwed them over, she and Regina had stopped the failsafe, Henry had been kidnapped and dragged through a portal by a pair of psycho idiots, and now she, her parents, Regina, Gold and Belle stood at the dock looking out to sea without the first clue what to do next.

So basically your average Tuesday in Storybrooke.

Why couldn’t they ever get a break? Ever?

“What is that?” Emma looked up at Belle’s question and followed her finger pointing out to sea.

Her stomach swooped and her heart raced as she saw the tell-tale sails and rigging of the Jolly Roger. “Hook,” she said, feeling hope for the first time in hours.

He was coming back to them, coming back to her.

Hook had changed alliances so frequently in the time that she’d known him that it nearly gave her whiplash. She should write him off completely. What kind of a fool trusted someone like that?

But she’d been speaking the truth when she confronted him back in the diner an hour ago. “You and I, we understand each other. Look out for yourself and you’ll never get hurt.” She knew him. She understood. She’d known from the moment they climbed the beanstalk together that he was a good man who had lost his way after who knows how many tragedies.

He was a villain by circumstance, not by nature, and she knew he could turn away from the dark side if only he opened himself to become a part of something.

A part of something with her?

Emma mentally shook herself as the ship pulled into the dock and Hook slowly limped his way down the gangplank. No. She could trust him to help them find Henry, but she knew better than to trust him with her heart.

Even if she’d instinctively felt she could and wanted to ever since the beanstalk.

“I thought you didn’t care about anyone but yourself,” she said, her tone deliberately biting.

He looked deeply into her eyes as he placed the magic bean in her hand. She saw his earnestness, the absolute sincerity in his cerulean eyes. “Maybe I just needed reminding that I could.”

There was that swoop of her stomach again, the leap of her heart. She ruthlessly pushed the attraction aside as she followed him onto the ship. There would be plenty of time to think all of this through once they had Henry back safe and sound. (Well…maybe not plenty of time; knowing this town, they’d have approximately forty-five minutes before the next crisis.)

For now all that mattered was finding her son.

#once upon a time rewatch drabbles #season 2 rewatch drabbles #2x22 and straight on til morning #emma swan #captain swan #my fanfiction

21 notes · View notes

blackleatherjacketz · 2 years

Text

Right Place, Right Time

Nomad Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

Summary: Nomad Steve is wandering the earth under a fake name after the devastation of Infinity War. He ends up staying in one place longer than he expected when he falls for the local doctor.

Warnings: ANGST, Pain, Medical Trauma, Emotional Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, People Pleasing, Acts of Service, Grief, Loss, Mentions of The Blip, Steve literally healing your wounds, Face-Holding, Kissing, Soul-Gazing and an Indiana Jones reference!

Word Count: 2.1K

Tags: @bullet-prooflove @letsby

Read more MARVEL stories!

A knock on the door causes her to jump as she puts the last of the antibiotics away, making sure to align them perfectly against the antihistamines before shutting the cabinet door and locking it. She sighs and turns around in preparation to face what she hopes will be her last visitor for the day, his handsome features a pleasant surprise as he leans against the doorway.

“You’re back,” she exclaims, not expecting him to return with more supplies until tomorrow morning.

“You’re hurt,” he points out, shooting a quick glance at the bandage on her arm that’s nearly completely soaked in blood.

“It’s nothing.” She tries to brush it off, just now realizing how heavy that arm actually feels as he stares at it from across the room.

Maybe the scab had broken open under its dressing sometime throughout the day and she just hadn’t noticed. Maybe the adrenaline of running the clinic and helping others with their own wounds had masked its sensation until she finally slowed down enough to feel it. Or maybe she had gotten used to working through so much pain after everything that happened since the blip, she wouldn’t realize that she needed help until someone like him pointed it out directly.

“Let me help,” he whispers, taking a few steps forward until he’s close enough to touch her. He brushes his hand over the back of her elbow just below her bandage, his fingertips forcing the tiny hairs underneath them to stand on end as he feathers them down her forearm toward her palm. “Let me see.”

“It's fine, I just…” she trails off, his chest now at her eyeline as his fingers intertwine with hers, firmly clasping onto them.

“Let me help,” he demands, his sapphire eyes deepening in color as he squeezes her hand. “Please.”

She takes a moment to allow herself to feel the pain as the tissue surrounding her cut begins to throb, weighing it down more with each second that passes. It’s been a few hours since she’d taken her last dose of ibuprofen, the little aid it brought her now quickly beginning to dwindle away. It hurts. A lot. Without the distraction of her work to keep her mind off of how bad it actually is, she’s finally able to admit that.

“Fine,” she concedes, relaxing her stance as he steps even closer, his natural scent swimming through her senses. Maybe she can let someone else take care of things… of her, for a change.

“How many times have you stitched me up before, huh?” He starts to grab the first aid kit on the counter behind her.

“A few,” she smiles through the pain as it pulses through her limb, his grip on her fingers barely enough to counter it.

“Don’t you think it’s about time I return the favor?” His smile transforms his face into one of the very few visages of joy she’s seen in days.

She remembers the first time she met him in the dead of night, covered in dust and blood as he helped evacuate the residents of the building next to her clinic. There were dozens of families that lived there, more than half of them torn apart by the blip and even more of them devastated by the destruction that followed. Law enforcement and healthcare workers were whittled down to less than nothing in the aftermath, serving as both a blessing and a curse as the lack of help failed to save the very few left that needed it most.

The chaos that ensued was immeasurable, keeping her up at night and spreading her thinner and thinner with each passing day until he showed up. He helped her get everyone to safety, setting them up with cots to sleep on and food to hold them over until relief finally came to take them to a more secure location. It was only then that he let her treat his wounds, a few lacerations on his face and arms and a giant rod of rebar sticking out of his abdomen that he’d broken in half. She insisted that he go to a hospital if he wanted to see his next sunrise, but he pushed back and explained that he was capable of healing faster than most. It was then that she figured out who he really was, but let him believe she thought he was just a stranger who happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“Well, I don’t need any stitches, I just need it cleaned and redressed. Can you wash your hands first?” She points to the sink behind him as he starts to reach for her dressing.

“Right.” He lets go of her and does as he’s told, returning to her side with them clean and carefully hovering in front of him. He stares at her intently, his smile straightening out into a serious scowl as he slowly peels the tape away from her skin. “How did this happen?”

“Some debris fell in the storm when I was… Ah!” She winces as he rips the hair off her skin, taking his sweet time removing the rest of it before he drops the soiled dressing onto the countertop.

“Damn, that’s deep.” He whispers to himself, not quite yet a master of his own bedside manner. He rotates her arm inward to get a better view of the trauma, squinting his eyes together as if that will somehow soften the harsh edges of her flesh. He grabs the half-used bottle of saline next to the first aid kit and asks if it’s the right one before pouring it down the back of her arm. “Sorry,” he makes a face as he spills some of it onto her pants as it drips down her elbow in a stream of crimson and rusty brown. “This was today?” He looks back up at her for confirmation.

“Last night,” she breathes out of her nose as the sterile solution stings the bed of her wound and cleans her out, forcing her to instinctively grab hold of his shoulder in the process.

“It’s okay,” he reassures her, squeezing her hand in return before setting the bottle down beside her. “It's okay, you’re okay.” He smiles again, succeeding at distracting her for a brief moment from the pain. He waits for her to smile back at him before breaking eye contact, nodding in reassurance before opening the package to the dressing. “You worked all day like this?”

She nods in silence.

He was more than enamored by her work ethic as she continued to trudge through the huddled masses day after day without regard for her own health or safety. As admirable as it was, it was obvious that she was going to work herself into the ground at this rate, forgoing her own needs in the process. She didn’t have the luxury of the serum to help her recover from injury or insomnia like he did, and it was becoming more obvious by the minute. His heart beats a guilty rhythm in his chest as he covers up the tangible evidence he could have easily prevented by speaking up sooner or being more present for her. “I’m sorry, I should have been there.”

“You can’t be everywhere at once, Steve.” She lets his real name slip out between winces, her statement proving to be just as much a lesson for her as it is for him.

“I know that.” He lets go of her hand, picking up the tape and peeling it off the track with his teeth so he can keep the pressure on her arm. It isn’t until he realizes what she’s called him that he stops what he’s doing altogether. He bites his lip and takes a breath, looking at his feet as he considers keeping up his act as Grant, the man he claimed to be when they first met, but decides against it as the look on her face tells him all he needs to know.

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” She looks up into his eyes as he places the tape around her bandage, taking great care to make it perfect before ripping off another piece with his canines.

“I don’t think that.” He sighs as he tapes another piece onto the bandage, the dressing remaining clean and intact for now. “I only said that because I…”

“Look, I don’t care what you call yourself: Steve, Grant, Martha, Joe.” She shrugs, “I’m just glad that you’re here.”

He finishes dressing her wound in silence before swallowing a dry lump in his throat, thinking of all the people he’d lost that day that he’d give anything to hear that from, that he’d give anything to tell that to before they disappeared. He wonders for a second how many people she had lost to the wind, if she had to witness them falling apart into nothingness like burnt embers floating off a campfire right before her eyes. He wonders if they were people that she was close to, if they were friends, family, or maybe even a lover. He’d been so caught up in his own grief that he forgot to acknowledge hers in this hurricane of nightmares they were both trying so desperately to navigate through.

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” He finishes his work on her arm and runs his palm over it to smooth out any rough edges, squeezing her shoulder affectionately on its way back up. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to be present, to put the horrors aside as his eyes travel over her shoulder and neck, noticing a cut on her cheek that’s mostly healed. “Is this from the storm, too?” He touches the skin just above it.

“Yeah.” She lets him turn her head to the side to get a better look, the warmth of his hand softening her features as he brings the opposite one up to gently cradle her face. She holds her breath as he looks her over, his somber eyes taking her in before guiding her face back toward the center, back toward him. He weaves his fingers into her hairline as his lips part, the calluses on his thumbs brushing over her temples as he brings her face even closer to his.

“You’ve got to be more careful,” he whispers, the weight of his words carrying the ghosts of his past along with them. “Please,” he kisses his request into her forehead, the fear of her joining them stronger than he cares to admit as he keeps his lips pressed tightly against her skin.

“I will.” She’s wanted to be this close to him for as long as she can remember, the needs of the many always outweighing her own until now. Here in his hands she finally feels safe enough to relax, to be a priority in someone else’s eyes, to have her own desires fulfilled with him if only for a fleeting moment.

“Promise me.” He inhales the scent of her hair before pulling back just enough to brush her nose with his, his fingers now massaging her scalp as he peers into her eyes.

“I promise.” Her heart skips a beat as his lashes fall down over visibly darkened eyes, despite the harsh fluorescent lighting above them. She can feel those lashes flutter softly against her as he kisses the wound on her cheek, keeping those lips on her as if he’s afraid of what will happen if he breaks contact.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She hears him whisper against her ear, his chest now rising and falling in tandem with her own.

She nods her head within the confines of his grasp, pointing to the tip of her nose to see if the moves of her favorite fictional archaeologist will work on him. “Here.”

He kisses her nose before she repeats the word, pointing to her lips as he moves his head down to meet them with a hunger that nearly takes her breath away. She wraps her arms around his waist as she deepens the kiss, opening her mouth to get a taste of him as he quickly follows suit. His beard is soft but still scratches the skin around her mouth as his tongue meets hers. He savors every inch of her as they desperately cling to one another, breathing each other in as if their very survival depends on it. He smooths his hands down her neck and shoulders, forgetting about her wound until he squeezes the back of her arms, forcing her to gasp and withdraw.

“I’m sorry.” His brow furrows as she pulls back just enough for him to see the rush of blood flushing her cheeks and the bit of his saliva still on her lips. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, It’s okay,” she reassures him, hoping this is just a break in their momentum instead of a complete and utter halt. “I just haven’t taken anything for the pain in a while.”

“Are you due for anything now?” He kisses her again, this time more chastely as he strokes a strand of her hair away from her face. “And when’s the last time that you ate anything besides your usual three cups of coffee?”

“It’s been a while.” She smiles as his hands remain on her body, holding her close to him as they both begin to instinctively sway back and forth, dancing to a silent song that only their bodies can hear. She can feel her eyelids becoming heavier as she stares at him, resting her forehead against his as her muscles relax and her heart rate begins to slow.

“What do you say I walk you home?”

#Steve Rogers #Nomad Steve Rogers #Nomad Steve #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers Fan Fiction #steve rogers x original female character #Steve Rogers x OFC #Captain America #Chris Evans #Marvel #Infinity War

111 notes · View notes

zivliveblogsop · 3 months

Text

One Piece Reread Chapter 1: Romance Dawn

It's time to kick off our reread with the very first chapter, titled (by now, very famously) Romance Dawn.

(index | next)

The first thing that comes to mind as I open to the first page is, ironically, of adaptations - at this time, every major screen adaptation of One Piece (it remains to be seen how Wit Studio will play it) has made changes to the sequence of events in the beginning of the story, either postponing the flashback to later episodes (as in Toei's anime) or interspersing the events via flashbacks in the first few episodes (as in the Netflix show). No doubt there are pacing concerns, but I find I much prefer the manga's decision to have the story play out in its entirety before we join Luffy in the present - it allows us to get acquainted with his character, and we already feel attached to him as the journey begins. We know where he came from, and we're already looking forward to travelling with him in pursuit of his ambition.

(There's also just the fact that Romance Dawn is a solid introductory chapter - so much so that its structure can be found in a lot of other manga that came after it. Just look at the first chapter of Naruto, which is almost beat for beat.)

Regardless, we open on the iconic stage-setting of Roger's execution. I'm somewhat vindicated to see that I did remember correctly, the manga (the Viz English translation, at the very least) does specify the manner of execution as beheading. This is another detail that adaptations have shied away from, from what I've seen, at least - either by avoiding showing the actual moment of death (Toei) or changing it to stabbing, for some reason (Netflix). I feel like that takes away from a very strong visual of a man cut off mid-laugh. I would be curious to know if the original Japanese also alludes to beheading, or if it is a more general term for execution that's used.

We travel, then, to Windmill Village, where I'm drawn in by the description of the place:

"A small harbor village. One year ago, a pirate ship made the village its base. The wind blows from the east. And the village is at peace."

It definitely feels like the sort of quote that might come back around, perhaps at the very end.

Luffy is first introduced to us as "villager boy" Monkey D. Luffy. The Red-Hair Pirates are nonchalant about his holding a knife, and about his (somewhat ominous) declarations - it's clear that he's already somewhat famous to this, and they're all used to it. Not so used to it, of course, that they're not taken aback by him trying to take his eye out, but by the time the scene changes to the Partys Bar, they're all in high spirits, drinking to Luffy's courage and their voyage. Their familiarity is clear, as is the very early institution of some of the series' most recurrent themes.

From the very beginning, Luffy is drawn to good times, adventure, and, most importantly, freedom.

Interestingly, Shanks rejects his crew's estimation of the pirate's life, which carries fascinating implications for his character. Shanks is pigeonholed often as being relatively laid-back, and while it might often be true, in his first and most extended appearance, he's actually quite serious about instilling the dangers of life at sea.

For as often as he's playing jokes, he's got something to say that sounds incredibly cryptic in retrospect, given what we know at this point, and what we can reasonably infer. (Roger, what was it you said to him when you came back from Laugh Tale?)

Funnily enough, Luffy seems to have a lot of respect for Beckman - calling him by the very polite "Mr. First Mate" and listening fairly diligently to his explanation for Shanks' rejection (even if he rejects it, though even Beckman admits that Luffy may have a point). For all the ways that Luffy and Shanks are alike in somewhat-irreverent disposition, Luffy does respond well, in this case, to being taken seriously, having Shanks' reasoning explained to him, and being treated with the assumption that he's capable of understanding (put a tally on the "Luffy isn't as dumb as you think he is" chalkboard, and leave a lot of room, because I'm going to be harping on it the whole way through).

Shanks and Luffy's relationship rightfully gets a lot of press, but I think this interaction does a lot to show that there's a pretty solid bond between Luffy and Beckman as well. I almost feel like Beckman was primed to handle Luffy from having to wrangle Shanks for a living.

Makino is a character that fascinates me. What happens to leave a nineteen year old as the proprietress of a bar? How did she end up as the one looking after Luffy? I doubt we're likely to get answers, but if our suspicions about her baby pay off, maybe there's a chance.

Higuma arrives, and there is brilliant economy of storytelling in these few panels - Makino's alarm, Shanks eyeing the hand on the counter, poised to step in, and Luffy eating... what is that? This is actually the first panel in which the Gomu Gomu no Mi appears. I actually went back to the last panel Luffy was in to double-check, and he was eating a regular bread roll. It's a Looney Tunes-type cut that provides an almost hysterical, irreverent laugh without breaking the mounting tension of the sequence. It really is a brilliant early example of the series' tone.

Another sequence that I feel the adaptations have failed to capture is that of Higuma breaking the bottles - the breakage is fairly violent, you actually see Shanks struggling with indignity and anger for a moment before schooling himself, which makes the lecture about choosing when not to fight feel much more effective.

That said, Luffy answering Shanks' "where are you going?" with "to find a real role model" is hilarious. He was getting zingers in even as a little kid.

It's time, then, for the Red-Hair Pirates to discover that Luffy ate their Devil Fruit - one wonders whether they truly did just happen to swipe that one by chance, or if it was intentional, and bound for someone specific... regardless, I'm a big fan of the art in this panel. The tension of the moment is broken comedically a moment later, but there's a surprising amount of emotion packed into the gestures and the expressions here that very much pique my interest. Shanks, one of these days we'll figure out what's going on with you, but for now I can only wonder...

I notice that Luffy also calls other people in the village by their job titles - Mr. Fishmonger, Mr. Mayor. His characteristic bluntness follows, but it's a cute detail. I don't remember the habit persisting - I wonder if it was Ace's bad manners that led to him nicknaming everyone he meets in the future.

Shanks does this a few times within the chapter, which is interesting - a panel where his eyes will be in shadow, and he seems almost foreboding, followed by a panel where he's fully illuminated and seems his usual, much more approachable self. Whether it's simply foreshadowing the fact that he's much more of a heavy hitter than he passes himself off as, or if it's hinting at some deeper aspects of his nature, it's very intriguing.

And for another sequence that hasn't been touched in any adaptations, Shanks standing stock-still while Lucky blows a guy away point-blank, and then a couple pages later you get Beckman putting a cigarette out in another guy's eye. I really hope we get to see more of these guys in action soon.

We're all familiar with what happens next - this all started because Luffy, despite being all talk about the Red-Hair Pirates being cowards, told Higuma he was wrong when he said the same, Higuma takes Luffy out to sea, Shanks breaks out Conqueror's Haki hundreds of chapters ahead of its formal debut (and then uses the secret fourth medical Haki to prevent himself from dying in 90 seconds via exsanguination of the brachial and axillary arteries - or something. Don't worry about it).

Something very interesting happens in a lot of emotionally significant moments for Shanks - a lot of the time, Oda doesn't let us see his eyes.

Poor Luffy tries so hard to play up his bravado, but it's already apparent that he doesn't deal well with goodbyes. Still, the stage is set - and the feeling is mutual.

Ten years later, the now-17 year old Luffy makes quick work of the Lord of the Coast and sets out, musing about the things he'll need (any takers on that tenth crew member)?

To me, the funniest change in Luffy from his child self to his young adult self is undeniably the attained nonchalance with which he confronts the things that befall him. On an informed level, we know that this is a Luffy who's spent the last ten years or so fighting lions, tigers, and bears in the jungle, but on a meta level, it works well to affirm what Shanks said just a few pages ago - he says Luffy is a lot like he was when he was a kid, and now, this older Luffy faces things with the same lightheartedness that we saw Shanks very consciously choosing. The explicit parallel between Luffy and Shanks goes a long way to characterize them both, to inform us of the hidden depths of our hero and plant the idea from the get-go that there's more to him than what might be apparent on the surface.

But anyway, down the water-hole Luffy goes - next stop, Alvida.

#one piece #liveblogging #one piece liveblog #one piece manga #one piece color manga

3 notes · View notes

runningwithfangs · 2 months

Text

Vampire Chronicles Book Review/Rant #6

The Vampire Armand

Ok, this is going to be another long one, and this book isn’t even the longest one (most of these books run 450-500 pages).

I feel very conflicted about this book, for the first half or so of it I was just very uncomfortable. I’ve been reading about all these dark, gothic, and terrible things in the other books and yet, this felt especially awful. Armand is very fucked up, he’s a special kind of evil, a special kind of manipulator among all the Evil Manipulative VampiresTM, but DAMN has he been through a lot. The second half of the book felt like we were back in the story of the Vampire Chronicles and back to business as usual.

I want to point out that I was a little worried about this book being boring and repetitive because we already know Armand’s backstory from previous books. However, there are details and min-stories that are worthwhile.

So, Armand tells us of his early life, as the icon painter in Kyiv. He is kidnapped and sex trafficked to Venice, where Marius buys him. Even though he and Marius have a severely fucked up complicated relationship, Armand’s time in Venice seems to be the happiest in his life. When he thinks back on who he was as a youth, he thinks about this time. It's all nicely fleshed out, we meet the boys and Bianca and get enveloped in the world of Renaissance Venice. We also learn that Armand was a little bit of a freak even before he got turned, he was indeed a chaotic, horny little shit and he got stuck that way forever.

Then everything changed when the Children of Darkness attacked. Marius is seemingly killed and the boys are taken to Rome, where they’re tortured and then thrown into a fire. Armand was supposed to be killed in the fire too, but he’s saved at the last second because Santino sees a true love for God in him. And so Armand’s coven era begins, which is his darkest time. Until Lestat destroys it all (this part is brief since we saw it all play out already in The Vampire Lestat).

Armand briefly talks about the Theatré era and meeting Louis. And then, kind of out of nowhere, the Claudia Bomb gets dropped. Armand admits he cut off her head and stitched it on the body of a female vampire he decapitated creating a “child-headed monster woman”. Ummm wtf. How did he even have time to do that between the kidnapping and the execution?!

But finally, we’ve caught up to the present and it’s time to talk about his suicide attempt at seeing Veronica’s Veil. The attempt fails, he’s too old and strong but also . . . had to save Sybelle from her brother’s abuse and adopt her and Beji as his human children ? How lucky that he finds these two who are rich, orphaned, chill about dead bodies, and just immediately in love with him. I’m very confused as to how this whole thing happened and apparently so is Armand.

But what I want to talk about is all the weird supernatural stuff that happens throughout this book that is not explained and that doesn’t fit in with previous supernatural cannon.

First, Armand sees ghosts! He sees the ghosts of his victims while he’s imprisoned by Santino. Vampires aren’t supposed to see ghosts, it’s a big deal that David still can and that Lestat sees exactly one (Roger).

Second, he has supernatural visions. When he’s feverish and dying sees the priests from back home tell him it’s not his time to die yet, and then he gets turned. When he’s flying up into the sun he again has visions of his family and of being a priest back home. Are these ghosts and visions just hallucinations?

Third, God is real?! Actual God and Jesus are real and Actual God directly inspired human Armand to paint his Actual Image?? The face that Armand painted “not by human hands” and the face on the Veil are the same?! So Armand had to try to kill himself about it?!

When Armand drinks from Lestat finally to see Him in the blood, he doesn’t see Lestat’s memories but instead has this nightmare interaction where Jesus’s face gets bigger and bigger and is kinda chasing him. That’s now how memories in the blood work!! And he gets thrown across the room by seemingly no one and everyone saw it?!

Memnoch left things vague, was it all real, or was Memonch some kind of bewitching spirit? But this book says God is real, Veronica’s Veil is real, AND Armand has been uniquely touched by Him. This is where I was really losing it. And even Marius is like, I guess my atheistic views were wrong maybe, idk.

It’s just such a turnaround from where we started.

This book had me up and down, it made me not like Marius (I think I still like Marius but just not in this book, not to say he isn’t also a disaster like the rest of them). It does have a lot of really beautiful writing, I always enjoy Anne’s writing as Armand. And it does deepen my understanding of him, this angel/gremlin/boy/devil. Not my favorite book so far, but I’m not upset that I read it or re-visited it for this post.

Favorites:

There are some wonderful descriptions of Renaissance art.

When Marius takes Armamd to Bianca's bedroom to accuse her of poisoning men, she's all “I'm bad for killing people? Ok pedo, WHAT ABOUT YOU?”

How Armand describes these vampires:

Lestat - maverick and trickster, 6 feet tall (they're all legally bound to mention his height) dubbed The Brat Prince by MY Marius, who never gave me a cute nickname but it's FINE I don't even care. “Intolerably annoying but one with whom I cannot exist” 💀 meanwhile Lestat is like oh I ignore Armand at all times and as much as possible

Louis - “already described but always fun to envisage” he's just SO HOT “soft voice, very human, weak . .. unable to read minds, or to levitate or to spellbind others… which can be hilarious”

I love the descriptions of Louis! It's always like “What a weak piece of shit I need to fuck him Right Now”

Gabrielle - “Everyone hates her” do they though? Or is it just YOU? “dusty, genderless” Iconic.

Pandora - “a goddess made of bleeding marble, a powerful beauty out of the deepest and most ancient soul of Roman Italy” damn what a line

Least Favorites:

I mean, all the child S.A. and abuse. . . like that was very disturbing. And the way Armand describes it, so matter-of-fact, it’s a contrast to a lot of the flowery, poetic language he uses in this book and others for basically everything else. Like he has to detach himself to describe it. Horrible.

Not only did the boys get thrown into the fire but then they fed Ricardo the Armand and he didn't realize 😭 that's so fucked up 😭

Lack of Devil's Minion. He just kinda says his love wasn't really honest, he just needed Daniel to explain the modern world. . .

Monastery of the caves - did monks really bury themselves and slowly starve to death there?

Smutt:

I can't condone any of the intimate acts in this book, it's all underage/non-consent/dubious consent and/or really weird. It's not enjoyable, it's not a fun time.

Marius seems the be the only vampire still interested in sexual acts though, with vampires and humans (noticed from this and other books).

Nonsense Meter:

Tentative 5/10

This book was all over the place, from extremely disturbing yet realistic events to Claudia’s Head and strange very convenient teenage adoptees.

Misc:

“I’m an impregnable little boy” Don’t let the MPreg crowd get you Armand XD

Not the 1800s orientalism describing David’s new half-Indian body as smelling of cardamom and cashews.

Lestat is woken up from his coma by music much like a certain vampire mommy was.

I listened to some of Beethoven’s Sonatas while writing this, they actually slap.

#vampire chronicles #the vampire armand #book review #book rant #armand x marius

4 notes · View notes

swan-of-sunrise · 2 years

Text

Endgame (Chapter Nine-Part II)

Summary: The epic conclusion of the Battle of Earth sees (Y/N) and Steve doing whatever it takes to save the universe from Thanos once and for all.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for battle/combat violence

A/N: And now we’ve arrived at the second half of the Battle of Earth! As many of you long-time readers know, I do my very best not to deviate from the films in this series and when I do change something, I have a justifiable reason for the change; that being said, there’s a small section of the battle that I’ve rewritten to better suit the story I’ve crafted thus far, and I thought I’d mention it here before you start reading so it doesn’t come as too much of a shock. Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Nine (Part II) (Previous Chapter)

Although they’d successfully taken Thanos by surprise with the remarkable size and unprecedented ferocity of their forces, it seemed as though their slim advantage was beginning to wane; the Black Order had rallied their troops and regained control of the battlefield, summoning wave after wave of Chitauri, Sakaarians and Outriders from the Sanctuary II. The bodies of dead Asgardians, Wakandans, Ravagers and sorcerers lay strewn atop the smoking rubble and crumbling ruins populating the massive crater and the many still standing were struggling against the enemy’s onslaught. The grim sights surrounding (Y/N) only encouraged her on as she fought her way to Clint; she barely paid any attention to her attackers, efficiently disarming and defeating them with well-placed baton hits and piercing Widow Bites before continuing on.

When (Y/N) finally spotted Clint fighting only a handful of yards away and noticed the garrison of fighters heading his way, she urged herself to speed up and shouted into her comm, “Hey Sam, I could really use some help from Redwing right about now!”

An explosion forced Clint into a somersault and after expertly rolling onto his knees, he fired a stun disc at his Sakaarian opponent but quickly found himself surrounded by Chitauri soldiers and roaring Gorillas. Before they could swarm him, (Y/N) jumped down from a pile of crumbled concrete and attacked; she dodged and parried their blades and avoided their blaster fire as she slammed and jabbed her electrified batons into the unarmored sections of the aliens’ bodies, and just as both Chitauri Gorillas charged at her, Redwing swooped down from above and took them down with two projectile missiles to their throats.

(Y/N) flashed the stealth drone a small smile. “Thanks, Birdbrain.”

“Don’t thank me, Booksmart, thank Redwing!”

She rolled her eyes at her best friend’s exclamation but relented. “…Thanks, Redwing.” Noting the shortness of Clint’s breath and the way he clutched the stitch in his side as he approached her, she sheathed her batons and held her empty hands out. “Give the gauntlet to me, Clint. I’ll make sure that it gets to Scott and Hope.”

Clint’s eyes flicked down to the red hourglass-shaped buckle affixed to her belt before meeting her gaze with a firm tenacity reminiscent of their mutual best friend. “Give ‘em hell, (Y/L/N).”

The archer handed over the sizable gauntlet and (Y/N) held it close to her chest as she sprinted through the horde; she ducked to avoid blaster fire and twirled away from swinging blades, firing Widow Bites at anyone who dared to try attacking her as she worked on getting the stones to the Quantum Tunnel across the vast battlefield. She only made it about fifty yards when a blurry figure plowed into her and knocked her onto the hard ground, only a heartbeat before a large double-bladed sword sliced through the air where she’d just been standing.

“Are you all right?” T’Challa asked as he tugged her to her feet, but her reply died in her throat the moment she looked across the clearing and saw the double-bladed sword return to Thanos’ hand.

The Mad Titan’s face was illuminated by a bloodthirsty smile and his gaze was transfixed on the gauntlet lying several feet from where they stood; he charged forward but was halted by the sudden appearance of Wanda Maximoff, who dropped down from above and landed in the space between them in a blinding burst of scarlet-hued energy. Her hands were still glowing and her body was tense with barely-contained rage as she snarled, “You took everything from me.”

“I don’t even know who you are,” Thanos scoffed.

“You will.”

(Y/N) could hear the cold smile in Wanda’s voice and as she watched the younger woman levitate herself and two massive piles of wreckage into the air, she couldn’t help but wish that she’d make her revenge on Thanos just as painful as how it felt to destroy Vision for nothing. As Wanda and Thanos viciously battled one another, T’Challa hurriedly pulled (Y/N) along to where the gauntlet lay and scooped it up into his vibranium-clawed hands. “I’ll keep going, (Y/N)!”

T’Challa vanished into the ongoing fight with the gauntlet tucked under his arm while (Y/N) unsheathed her batons and ran over to assist the only human member of the Guardians of the Galaxy; he was pinned down by a small squadron of Chitauri and unable to return blaster fire as he crouched behind a wrecked S.H.I.E.L.D. Jeep to avoid being shot. (Y/N) attacked from behind, kicking the blaster out of one alien’s grasp and electrocuting it with her baton while taking down another with a Widow Bite to the neck. While she distracted the Chitauri attackers, the Guardian was able to fly over the Jeep using his rocket-boots and shoot down the rest of them for her.

“Hey, thanks for the help, She-Ra,” He huffed out in exhaustion and gave her a sort of salute with his blaster. “The name’s Peter Quill, by the way. You’re not…are you that bad-ass writer chick Thor was talking about when we rescued him from that shipwreck?”

“Mm-hmm, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It’s good to finally meet you; Rocket’s already told me a lot about you, actually.” Quill’s brow shot up in surprise at that, so she decided to elaborate. “He mostly talked a lot of shit, to be honest, but it wasn’t hard to see how much he missed you and the rest of the Guardians.”

While Quill absorbed her words, a crackling bolt of lightning illuminated the sky and struck one of the remaining hover tanks a hundred yards away, dissipating as Steve appeared and slammed the broken shield against its cannon. “Wait, is that seriously the Captain America?” He eagerly asked, watching the super-soldier single-handedly dismantle the hover tank with wide, almost childlike eyes. “You know, the ass-kicking super-soldier who took down Nazis in World War II? The-Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan? That Captain America?”

“Yep, but I just usually call him my husband.” (Y/N) chuckled in amusement at the stunned expression written across Quill’s features. “You’ve seen Return of the Jedi, right?” He nodded mutely. “Well, Steve was frozen in 1945, sort of like Han Solo in the carbonite, only it was entirely accidental and he wasn’t discovered until 2012.”

Quill shook his head and sighed. “Man, you leave Earth for a couple of decades and look at all the cool shit that happens…”

Before she could reply, the battlefield around them began erupting with explosions and filled with the sounds of cannon fire as bright blaster beams shot down from the Sanctuary II above. Allies and enemies alike were blown back by the powerful force of the steady barrage and although sorcerers created wide orange protection shields overhead, there weren’t nearly enough of them to cover the entire battlefield and all their forces. Across the crater, the earth was crumbling away and water from the lake was beginning to flow down onto the battlefield, but Doctor Strange quickly used his magic to funnel the water into the air and held it back. Quill ignited his rocket boots and flew off to assist a nearby Dora Milaje battling a Sakaarian fighter and (Y/N) hurried towards the area where she’d last seen Steve, keeping a careful eye on the cannons firing down as she ran.

“(Y/N)!” Steve exclaimed, and his dirt and sweat-covered face filled with worry when his eyes scanned her appearance. “Shit, you’re bleeding, baby, are you okay?!”

She fastened her batons together into a staff and cautiously touched the oozing cut running along her collar, wincing a little at the sting but giving her concerned husband a small smile. “I-I’m fine, sweetheart-”

“Help! Somebody, help!”

They both looked over across the clearing to see Peter Parker struggling against a growing swarm of Outriders and gripping the gauntlet tight as he fought them off. “Hey, Queens!” Steve called out into his comm. “Heads up!” The super-soldier threw Mjolnir as hard as he could, and they breathed sighs of relief when the teenager shot a web and allowed the hammer to pull him out of danger. “We need to find a way to take out those cannons or else we won’t last much longer.”

(Y/N) slammed her staff into an attacking Chitauri soldier while Steve kicked a Sakaarian across the clearing. “Maybe if Tony, Pepper and Rhodes fly up and use their lasers to burn through the hull?”

“No can-do, Austen, even the three of us combined don’t have the power to get through that steel.”

“Well, what if we hijack one of those Chitauri cruisers and-?”

“Watch out!” Steve shouted and tackled (Y/N) to the ground just as the earth around them exploded under a powerful cannon blast; his muscular body covered hers and his arms cocooned her head, protecting her from the onslaught of dirt, rubble and debris raining onto them. While more and more cannons fired down onto the battlefield below, (Y/N)’s eyes squeezed shut and she buried her face in Steve’s neck, unable to think of a way to stop the unending barrage raining down on them.

All of a sudden, the cannon fire ceased and an unsettling silence descended over the battlefield. (Y/N) pulled away far enough to frantically search her husband’s gaze for any signs of injury and when she found none, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why’d they stop firing?”

“I have no idea.” An equally-baffled Steve shrugged and helped her stand on shaky legs, and their questions only compounded when they saw the Sanctuary II swivel its cannons up and begin firing on something hidden within the dark clouds of smoke high above.

“What the hell is this?” Sam asked into the comms as he took to the skies nearby.

(Y/N) and Steve both watched in awe as a blinding light of thundering energy broke through the clouds and, entirely unaffected by the heavy barrage of cannon fire, flew straight through the Sanctuary II; Thanos’ enormous flagship imploded as the comet traveled a devastating path out the opposite end, the light briefly dimming to reveal Carol Danvers before she burst through the hull and out the top in a fiery blaze of cosmic energy. Grinning, (Y/N) watched the decimated Sanctuary II fall from the sky and crash into the lake, sending a powerful shockwave rippling across the entire crater. “She really knows how to make an entrance, doesn’t she?”

Steve lowered his broken shield and smiled. “Our cosmic friends seem to all share that trait.” He brought a hand up to his comm link. “Danvers, we need an assist here.”

“Sure, Cap, whatcha need?”

“We need to get the stones to the Quantum Tunnel across the crater and send them back to their original timelines before Thanos can rally his troops,” (Y/N) replied, squinting as she tried to make out where Peter was through all the piles of earth and debris littering the battlefield. “The tunnel’s inside of a brown van, and a teenager named Peter Parker has the gauntlet with him.”

“Ah, I see the kid. He’s at your eleven o’clock, about half a click away.”

The super-soldier nodded. “We’ll meet you there.” He squared his broad shoulders and turned to (Y/N) standing beside him. “You ready for this?”

She ignored the twinging cut along her collar, the dull ache settling into her arms and the blood dripping down the side of her face from a fresh scrape as she flashed him a confident grin. “I can do this all day.”

Steve smirked in amusement and together, the two of them ran through the battlefield to where Peter and the gauntlet were, the knowledge that they were one step closer to thwarting Thanos’ plans renewing their optimism and reigniting their burning defiance. They reached the rocky crevice that the teenager was hiding in just after a faintly-glowing Carol landed before him; he jerked in surprise but mustered up a nervous smile for the captain as he continued to clutch the tarnished Infinity Gauntlet in his arms. “Hi, I-I’m Peter Parker.”

“Hey, Peter Parker,” Carol’s lips curved into a smirk and she nodded down at the gauntlet. “You got something for me?”

“Y-Yeah.” Peter grabbed (Y/N)’s outstretched hand and allowed her to help him stand. Although the teenager was covered in bruises, sporting a bloody nose and looked visibly exhausted from the fierce battle, he stood on his own two feet as he handed the gauntlet over to Carol. “I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that.”

The four of them turned and stared out at the stampeding horde in the distance. The Children of Thanos lead the charge, followed by Chitauri ground troops and four bellowing Gorillas, Sakaarian soldiers and several packs of Outriders; in the clouded sky above them, three Leviathans slithered through the air alongside Chitauri-manned cruisers and half a dozen hover tanks were scattered in amongst the throng. It would’ve made for an intimidating sight if not for the small but formidable band of fighters that were assembling alongside them; Tony, Wanda and Sam gracefully descended from the sky while Thor appeared surrounded by tendrils of lightning as a clap of thunder shook the ground, Okoye twirled her spear in anticipation and Nebula – the real Nebula, not the 2014 version who infiltrated them and hijacked their Quantum Tunnel on Thanos’ behest – tightened her grip on her blaster’s hilt, and both Clint and Bruce wore matching looks of obstinacy on their faces as they stood beside the couple.

Looking around the group and realizing in a shocking instant that each of them had deep personal ties to Natasha Romanoff, (Y/N) exchanged a knowing glance with Steve and watched as he turned his attention back to Peter. “Don’t worry, kid. She’s got help.”

(Y/N) twirled her batons and fixed the approaching army with a vengeful stare. “This one’s for you, Nat.”

Thor’s booming battle cry accompanied their charge, each of them launching themselves into the fray to avenge Natasha and to end, once and for all, Thanos’ plans to destroy the entire universe. Tony, Thor and Sam took to the skies and each took on a Leviathan; the Asgardian called down a bolt of lightning to electrify the creature and sliced its head off, Sam fired missiles and his guns at another until it fell from the sky, and Tony flew straight into its mouth and blew it up from the inside. Wanda threw two swirling balls of scarlet energy at a hover tank, instantly exploding it and the blast decimated a sizable number of nearby Sakaarians. Okoye rammed her vibranium spear into Corvus Glaive’s chest and flipped him over her shoulder before throwing the spear at a cruiser speeding overhead. Nebula took out enemy after enemy with her precise blaster shots and brutal hand-to-hand combat skills. Bruce and Clint worked together to take down a Chitauri Gorilla, the scientist’s good fist and the archer’s razor-sharp katana making for a deadly combination. (Y/N) and Steve fought side-by-side – her electrified batons and Widow Bites and his hammer and broken shield working beautifully together – taking down Proxima Midnight with expert ease and fighting through a swarm of Chitauri soldiers.

While they battled the enemy, Carol flew through their hastily-formed blockade and the resulting explosion, flying faster and tightening her hold on the gauntlet once the van came into view. Thanos charged at the captain with his double-bladed sword raised high but Tony, Thor and Steve were faster; their repulsors and lightning blasted the Mad Titan down and away from Carol as she shot past him. Before any of them could react, Thanos rolled to his feet and threw his sword straight at the activated Quantum Tunnel, which was instantly decimated in a blinding explosion; the shockwave blew allies and enemies alike down to the ground and rolled across the entire battlefield.

(Y/N) was knocked off her feet and thrown into a pile of debris, the side of her head instantly erupting in pain and her vision blurring. Wincing, she brought a hand up to her temple and gently prodded the tender flesh, swallowing thickly when she lowered her hand and saw the blood coating her fingers; she blinked hard to try and clear her vision as darkened figures rushed by, but it wasn’t until she rolled over onto her knees that her eyes could finally begin to focus. Thor and Steve were both struggling against an enraged Thanos, with the Asgardian using Mjolnir and all his strength to force Stormbreaker’s cackling blade closer to the Mad Titan’s neck and Steve latching onto his back and pulling on the battle axe to aid Thor, but Thanos’ strength proved to be impossible for them to overcome; he sucker-punched Thor in the stomach and head-butted him away before flipping Steve over his shoulder and slammed his fist into his face.

The overwhelming horror of seeing her bloody and bruised husband lying motionless at Thanos’ feet was compounded the moment she realized that the tarnished gauntlet was less than a yard away from him. She staggered for her feet and after hastily scanning the ground for her batons, she reached down and withdrew one of Loki’s daggers from her boot before charging towards him; Bruce appeared and attempted to hold Thanos back, but he grabbed the scientist by his wounded arm and flung him into a pile of crumbling concrete, and then (Y/N) and Clint reached him at the same time. The archer swung his katana and managed to slice a sizable cut across Thanos’ exposed bicep while (Y/N) slid past them and reached for the gauntlet.

Just as (Y/N)’s fingers grazed the tarnished gauntlet, a large hand wrapped around her arm and hurled her aside; she slammed into the rocky ground and rolled several times before finally stopping several feet away from an unconscious Clint. A stinging pain erupted across her stomach when she first tried to move, making her grit her teeth and hold back an agonized groan as she flipped herself onto her side; the dagger she’d been gripping in her hand clattered onto the ground, its blade splattered with her own dark red blood, and she pressed a hand against the gash to stem the bleeding. Through the haze of pain, she looked across the clearing and watched Thanos and Carol grappling over the gauntlet, which the Mad Titan had already managed to put on. Despite the captain clearly having the upper-hand in the fight, all it took was Thanos snatching the purple Power Stone from the gauntlet and punching her across the battlefield for him to win and stand unopposed with his prize.

“No…” (Y/N)’s breathing was erratic and she attempted to push herself off the ground a second time as Thanos placed the Power Stone into its setting and bellowed, the cosmic energy of the six Infinity Stones coursing through his body; her vision blurred around the edges and she cried out when the movement tugged at her sizable wound, so all she could do was watch in horror as Thanos prepared to snap his fingers.

Out of nowhere, Tony rushed towards a distracted Thanos and grabbed hold of the glowing gauntlet, but his final act of desperation was foiled by Thanos kneeing him in the abdomen and backhanding him across the clearing. The billionaire lay sprawled on the ground and after adjusting the gauntlet on his hand, Thanos smiled coldly at him, unabashedly rejoicing in his imminent victory and their devastating loss. “I am…inevitable.”

Thanos’ fingers seemed to move in slow motion as (Y/N)’s eyes found Steve’s all the way across the clearing. Her husband was still disoriented from his failed attempt to kill Thanos, but the fear in his usually steadfast gaze told her that he understood exactly what was about to happen and that there was nothing any of them could do to stop it. I love you, Steve mouthed to her and (Y/N) gave her beloved super-soldier a teary smile before mouthing back, I love you, too.

The tell-tale metallic clink of the gauntlet’s two fingers connecting made (Y/N)’s heart jolt in her chest but after a long moment, her brow furrowed in confusion; there was an undoubtable snap, but nothing had happened. She followed Steve’s sudden awestruck gaze to see Tony kneeling across from Thanos, and her jaw dropped as nano-particles shifted the six Infinity Stones into place on his suit’s red and gold hand. The cosmic energy of the stones flowed throughout Tony’s body and left burning trails in its wake, putting immeasurable strain on him and shortening his breath, and while a shocked Thanos looked on, the billionaire smirked through his labored breaths and fearlessly addressed the Mad Titan. “And I…am…Iron Man.”

Tony snapped his fingers, and the world was engulfed in the brightest of light.

When the light faded away, (Y/N) watched in awe as Thanos’ formidable army began turning to ash all around her, just as her daughter and friends had five years earlier; Chitauri soldiers, Sakaarian troops and packs of Outriders all disintegrated into nothing while Leviathans, Gorillas and every single enemy transport crumbled away atom by atom and were scattered to the wind. We did it, she thought with a breathless laugh, we actually won.

“(Y/N)!” She turned her head to see Steve hurrying across the clearing, a panicked expression written across his features as he dropped to his knees beside her and firmly pressed a large hand against the oozing cut across her stomach. “It’s not deep, thank God, a tight bandage’ll stem the bleeding until we can get you to a medic. You’re gonna be all right, sunshine.” Her husband attempted to flash her a teasing smile, but the worry he still felt prevented his smile from reaching his eyes. “I thought I told you to stay safe.”

“In my defense, I didn’t plan on being chucked into the air like a baseball and landing on my own damn dagger,” (Y/N) chuckled but hissed in pain when Steve’s hand shifted over her wound. “Did we do it, sweetheart? Did we really win?”

Steve nodded. “We really won, sunshine. We’re gonna be with Carina again in no time.” The hand not applying pressure to her wound cupped her cheek and his thumb swiped a stray tear away before he pressed a soft, triumphant kiss onto her lips.

After Sam appeared and both men worked to secure a long strip of gauze around her waist, they helped her stand on unsteady legs and she took the opportunity to study their surroundings. Wounded Wakandans, Asgardians, Ravagers and sorcerers staggered to help one another stand and watched with obvious relief as Thanos’ army – including their dead and their wrecked equipment – all reduced to ash and slowly dissolved away, and faint rays of sunlight started to break through the smoke-filled sky above. Peter Quill hugged an elated Groot and then Rocket, who pretended to be annoyed but couldn’t quite hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, before pulling Nebula and the remaining Guardians into a group hug. T’Challa and Shuri embraced while Okoye fussed over a scratch on the princess’ bicep. Bucky helped Wanda to her feet and the pair immediately went to help Brunnhilde, Korg and Miek extract the Valkyrie’s whinnying but unharmed horse from beneath several sizable pieces of debris. Scott and Hope held each other tight as they kissed beside the smoldering remains of their Quantum Tunnel. Wong clapped Stephen on the back and helped his fellow Master of the Mystic Arts create a temporary dam using large chunks of concrete from the destroyed Avengers Facility. Everywhere she looked, (Y/N) saw her friends and allies coming together to celebrate their unbelievable triumph over Thanos and his universe-ending plan but just as Steve’s lips pressed a kiss onto her brow, a sharp gasp tore from her throat and her jaw dropped in outrage.

“Oh, son of a bitch!”

Both Steve and Sam’s heads snapped over to her and their hands hovered over her numerous wounds as their panicked eyes searched hers. “What is it, (Y/N), what’s wrong?!”

“Is the pain getting worse, Booksmart? Screw it, I’m gonna go find that smart-ass wizard-doctor guy and see if he can’t patch you up-”

“I’m fine, guys, but my baby isn’t!” Both men exchanged a perplexed glance and she rolled her eyes before pointing across the crater. “My baby’s wrecked!” Amongst a mound of twisted metal and crumbling rock lay the smoldering remains of (Y/N)’s yellow 1976 Volkswagen Bug, the car she’d owned and cherished for over fourteen years. As sad as the sight of its mangled and scorched frame made her feel, she couldn’t help but correlate its wrecked state with the state of the world post-Snap; bringing back millions of living creatures in the blink of an eye would undoubtedly throw the already unstable Earth into chaos but while it wouldn’t be easy, they’ll all find a way to rebuild so that they’re stronger than they ever were. “Oh, well…nothing lasts forever, does it?”

Instead of answering, Steve gently nudged her arm and nodded towards the opposite end of the clearing; Thanos looked on as his troops disappeared and the Black Order dissolved into nothing with an expression of numb acceptance on his face. His eyes flicked over to them and they stared back, a surge of satisfaction filling (Y/N) as she watched the Man Titan seat himself on block of concrete and lean heavily over his knees. Thanos slowly began to turn into ash and once his entire army was gone, he too was erased from existence.

The sound of metal collapsing caused the both of them to turn and (Y/N)’s heart dropped when her eyes landed on Tony. The billionaire was slumped against a pile of wreckage, his Iron Man armor broken and scorched while the right side of his body – where the brunt of the Infinity Stones’ energy had resided during his Snap – was entirely covered in blackened burns. She was aware of Steve’s arm tightening around her waist as he helped her cross the clearing to him and she could see Clint, Bruce and Thor beginning to gather in her peripheral vision, but all of her focus was on her dying friend; his labored breaths were the only sounds to fill the clearing, until the familiar thwip of a web reverberated through the space and Peter Parker swung down.

“Mr. Stark! Hey, Mr. Stark?” The teary-eyed teenager brushed past a somber Rhodes to kneel before Tony and his voice shook as he continued. “Can you hear me? I-It’s Peter. Hey, we won, Mr. Stark. We won. You did it, sir, you did it…” All Tony could do was stare unseeingly at Peter as he finally broke down into heaving sobs. “I’m sorry…Tony, I-I’m…”

The crowd surrounding Tony parted to allow Pepper through and with gentle hands, the older woman guided Peter to his feet and into (Y/N)’s open arms. Their eyes briefly met and an understanding passed between both women; having a romantic relationship with an Avenger wasn’t easy by any means, but the hardest part was living with the constant fear that someday, they’ll be a fight that they won’t return home from. Pepper Potts’ worst nightmare was unfolding right in front of them, and all (Y/N) could do was convey her deep empathy and condolences through a single, silent look. However, the look they shared seemed to give Pepper the strength to turn and kneel in front of her dying husband, and (Y/N) blinked away tears as she comforted the teenager sobbing into her shoulder.

Pepper rested a hand against his suit’s arc reactor and gave him a tearful smile. “Hey.”

“Hey, Pep…” Tony murmured back, the corner of his mouth barely twitching upwards as he rested his left hand on top of hers.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Life functions critical.”

Rhodes and Bruce bowed their heads in grief while silent tears rolled down Clint and Thor’s faces, and Steve’s shoulders shuddered with suppressed sobs as his hand squeezed (Y/N)’s tight. Tony’s eyes watered as he glanced away from Pepper, but she pursed her lips and shook her head. “Tony. Look at me.” His dark eyes flicked over to meet hers and she gave him a trembling but sincere smile. “We’re gonna be okay. You can rest now.”

The regretful look on Tony’s burned and bloody face seemed to melt away at Pepper’s words and for one brief moment, his expression was overcome with a peaceful calm. The moment quickly passed and as Tony took his final breath, his hand slipped away from his wife’s and his suit’s arc reactor flickered off for the last time. Pepper finally gave into her tears, bowing her head and crying while the rest of them mourned their fallen friend. Tony Stark, one of Earth’s best defenders and a selfless hero right to the very end, was gone, and as (Y/N) struggled to come to terms with the tragic loss of another friend, the sunbeams beginning to break through the thick clouds of smoke dimmed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I cried while editing this, and I already know that I’ll cry the entire time I write the next chapter lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5L6MERx3PIydW3FyNPqYvl?si=ad6c46de8e954c11

Chapter Ten

“Endgame” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovy-lady @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

45 notes · View notes