#NO ONE mentioned anything regarding the live action either. which i thought was fucking glaring but. apparently not?????

[swordsofsaturn]

god i wish the one piece fandom was like. better than it is

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch34: Paper

Summary: Following the events in Siberia, Katie, Steve Wanda and Sam all struggle to adapt to a life on the run. The Roger’s first wedding anniversary isn’t spent the way Steve would have hoped, but as Fall arrives, he finallly gets the call he’d been waiting for from Wakanda.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Wonderful edit again from @angrybirdcr​ and a new part means a new banner!!!! Here we go, into the Nomad/IW years...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 33

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

August 2016

Following advice from Coulson, the group of Outlaws decided to lay low for a few months until interest died down, although Katie and Sam were pretty amused to find out that there had been widespread protests across the US after Captain America had been declared and Enemy of the State, especially when someone (no names were mentioned, but Katie was laying odds on it being Murdock to help Clint and Scott’s very publicised hearings) had leaked to the press details of exactly what had taken place in Siberia, and how they had been treated by the Government. To Katie’s further delight, Ross was facing a public enquiry as well with regards to their unlawful arrests. 

All in all, that part of it had worked out pretty well. And whilst she knew Ross would get away with it, the thought of him being pissed off and inconvenienced filled her with a very smug sense of satisfaction.

The place they were living was called the Isle of Lewis, approximately twelve miles away from Stornoway in the northern part of the inter-connected Islands in the Hebrides. Coulson wasn’t lying when he’d told Katie it was isolated, in fact the only connection to mainland Scotland was either a two hour ferry or a half hour flight, so with that respect it was absolutely perfect. 

The old farm house was secluded, the land surrounding it sprawling for miles, shielded by a large thicket of trees on three sides and a cliff edge which dropped down to a small beach on the other. There was no reason for anyone to visit or pass their house, bar the odd dog walker they saw treading the cliff footpath. They were always careful when seeing people to greet them politely so they didn’t attract attention by being suspiciously aloof. 

The first rule of going on the run? Don’t run.

At first they strayed into town for supply runs only. Katie was surprised just how well she adapted to living with two additional people. At first she had been worried, Steve and her having had their own space for such a long time. Even in the tower and compound their living quarters had been spacious and private, meaning they could hide away from everyone if they wanted to. But in their safe house they didn’t have that luxury. Nevertheless, it was adequate enough meaning they all had their own rooms, even if they were on the small side. And whilst there was only one full bathroom upstairs, so far there had been no squabbles about who used it when. 

The large sitting area had been kitted out with a state of the art entertainment system, they had a decent sized farmhouse style Kitchen-Diner, and a smaller sitting room off the back of the kitchen with a smaller TV and a  a piano much to Katie’s delight. Practical things like bills etc were coming out of an account belonging to Mr and Mrs O’Rourke, one of Katie and Steve’s covers- the name being Steve’s Ma’s maiden name. Coulson had advised them it was the least suspicious thing to do and would attract less attention than trying to pay cash at a bank. They’d also acquired a ten year old 4x4, bought for cash of course, and it was subtle enough to blend in as a lot of the locals seemed to drive them too due to the terrain and climate of the Island.

But whilst everything seemed to go according to plan and was, when all was said and done, fairly easy, Steve was struggling. He was antsy from the lack of action, and from a purely carnal point of view was missing the fact he could slam his wife up against any surface he wanted to and not worry about them being caught. He hated the fact their room was right next to Sam’s, concerned with the amount of noise they might make after Bucky’s jibe about the hotel rooms, and it wasn’t long before Katie noticed a dramatic shift in his attitude towards her. He was snappy, short tempered and Katie was often the one that bore the brunt of his temper. They bickered, on a much larger scale than she could really ever remember them doing before, over really stupid things as well like the fact one evening Steve couldn’t find where she’d put his favourite cookies in the kitchen. He became less tactile, less handsy and their love life dwindled dramatically, but she tried not to let it get to her, which was easier said than done especially when she was so used to the fact that he basically worshipped the ground she walked on.

The morning of their first wedding anniversary, Katie woke alone, her husband nowhere to be found. After laying simply staring at his empty side of the bed for a moment, remembering he blinked back tears of frustration and headed for a before she wandered downstairs into the kitchen to be greeted by Sam and Wanda both sat at the table.

“Steve gone for a run?” She asked, after greeting them both good morning.

“Yeah, I offered to go but he wanted to go on his own.” Sam said, shrugging “Didn’t want me slowing him down.”

“He actually said that?” Katie frowned.

Sam nodded.

“I’m sorry Sam, don’t take it personally.” Katie poured herself a coffee and sat down, taking a deep breath. “Is everything okay?” Wanda asked, looking at Katie “You’ve both been a little tetchy recently. Granted you haven’t been as bad as him, but…” “Yeah, you guys not err…getting enough?” Sam quipped, earning himself a slap round the back of the head from Wanda, the younger woman giving him a glare.

“Fuck off Wilson.” Katie rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying.”

“Well don’t.” She snapped, taking a sip of her coffee then swiping a piece of toast off his plate. “He’s just not coping well with being cooped up, it’ll settled down. I hope.” She added, biting her toast.

“Look, we know it’s your anniversary today.” Wanda looked at her. “You got anything planned?” “Not really possible.” Katie shrugged. “Thought I might try and convince him to take a walk later, just the two of us but…”

“Well,” Sam looked at Wanda then over to Katie. “We thought we might head into town for the evening, hit a few bars. Give you two a bit of space.” Wanda nodded, eagerly. “You have to do something, even if it’s just cooking a meal and having a bit of you time.” Katie pondered this for a moment and found herself smiling “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I can go to the store later.” Her spirits raised a little as she started planning a menu out in her head. She was jerked from her thoughts when the security system clicked and Steve walked through the door of the kitchen that led to the grounds, the door shutting behind him, the keypad beeping as he typed in the code to lock everything down. His T-shirt was damp with sweat, clinging to his torso, the pair of dark sweats fitting snugly to his hips.

“Hey.” She looked up at him. His face was tired but nevertheless she was relieved to see him smile as he walked over and dropped a soft kiss to her head, their argument from the previous night forgotten.

“Happy Anniversary.” He whispered, and she smiled up at him, understanding his gesture to also be an apology of sorts.

“Back at ya, Soldier.” She swallowed back her tears, “You want breakfast?” “I’ll shower first.” He nodded to Sam and Wanda before pausing, and with a playful smile he stole the last piece of toast off Sam’s plate.

“Not cool man!” Sam groaned.  “That was the last of the bread.” Steve simply shrugged at Sam’s protest, before he headed down the hallway to go and freshen up. Katie watched him go before she turned to Wanda.

“Fancy coming with me to the store?”

She nodded “Sure.”

***** When Steve came back to the kitchen half an hour or so later he was surprised to find the girls gone.

“Supplies.” Sam answered his unasked question as he was flicking through the television in the lounge, settling on a British Chat Show called ‘This Morning’, easy daytime TV that didn’t require thinking about. Steve made himself a coffee before he sat down next to his friend with a sigh.

“So, first anniversary.” Sam spoke, not looking at him. “Be this isn’t what you thought you’d be doing?” “You can say that again.” Steve mumbled. Just twelve months ago at that exact time he’d been bustling about his apartment on the compound in a fluster getting ready. It had, without a doubt, been the happiest day of his life.  But this was not how he wanted their first wedding anniversary to go down. He’d always planned spoiling Katie a little, maybe a nice getaway, somewhere warm, but that wasn’t an option.

“Me and Wanda are clearing out later.” Sam’s eyes remained on the TV. “Give you two a bit of alone time.” “You don’t have to-“ Steve started but Sam cut him off with a snort.

“Man, you need to make some lovin’ on your girl.” He turned to the soldier who felt a flush rise up his neck. “Because we know you ain’t been getting enough, you’ve been a bad tempered bastard for weeks.”

“I have not.” Steve shot back indignantly, causing Sam to raise his eyebrows. Steve let out a sigh, knowing he was well and truly busted.

“Look, if you two ever need some space, all ya gotta do is ask.” Sam said sincerely, looking at Steve. “Couples need that time. This is bound to be stressful for you both.”

“I doubt it’s easy on you two either.” Steve looked at him and Sam shrugged, before he smirked.

“Difference is if I wanna get laid I’ll just head into town. There’ll be some sap out there that likes George Fletcher the Geologist from Georgia.”

“You’re terrible you know that?” Steve smirked at him over his coffee mug.

Sam simply smiled back. “You get her anything?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded “We agreed months ago on something paper themed, you know, on account of the anniversary being paper. I had planned to get the lyrics to our wedding song printed and do a sketch of one of our photos to hang up in our apartment but that kinda went out of the window.” “So what did you get?” “A book.” Steve let out a breath “I spotted it in the second hand shop in town last time we did a flyer. It’s a leather-bound complete works of Shakespeare but it was published the year she was born and has all these handwritten notes in it from someone. Just the kind of thing she’ll like. And a couple of albums of sheet music, I know she’s missing hers back home and she hasn’t been playing the piano as much as I thought she would.”

“She’ll love it.” Sam smiled encouragingly “I hope so Sam.” he sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions, scratching at his chin “I hope so.” *****

True to their word, Sam and Wanda headed out just after five, leaving Katie and Steve alone. As Katie bustled around in the kitchen, Steve couldn’t help but watch his wife as she cooked, a small smile playing on his face. And then, realising they were truly alone for the first time in months he placed his beer down on the side and crossed the small room, wrapping his arms around her from behind and dropping his chin to her shoulder, nuzzling at her neck. She smiled at his display of affection, something she’d been aching for, and as the scruff of his almost-beard scratched at her skin she gave a soft sigh.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He said, before he shook his head “No. Not really. Doll, I’m sorry for being so distant. You don’t deserve this.” He sighed. “After the accords, when the dust settled we were supposed to have a normal life, a simple life. I can’t even give you that.”

“It’s a good thing you’re cute because at times you’re incredibly stupid,” She smiled making him breathe a laugh. “Steve we’re here, together after everything. I made that vow, until death do us part and I mean it. I love you.” She finished simply, shrugging. “So stop wasting time worrying about it. You’re stuck with me, Captain Dumbass.“

Steve looked back at her, before he gave her a small smile.

"Now I know this probably isn’t what either of us had in mind, but we’re on our own, I’ve got a pretty large batch of Mac and Cheese, and an apple pie in the oven, a steak ready to grill so let’s just try and enjoy it.”

“You made mac and cheese?” Steve’s face creased into a boyish smile “And apple pie? What happened to not baking pies unless it’s Autumn?” “Well its September tomorrow.” She shrugged. “And I thought it might cheer you up.”

"Sorry.” He half grimaced, half smiled apologetically back at her. “I know I haven’t been the easiest to be around lately ─”

“Stop apologizing.” She interrupted him again.

He studied her for a second before he leaned down to give her a soft kiss. “I love you.” “I know.” Her hands slid down to his chest and she gave him a quick pat before playfully shoving him away “Now scoot, unless you want me to burn dinner. Go set the table.” Knowing better than to refuse, he did as he was told and it wasn’t long before they were settled down and eating. They talked about everything and anything, drank wine, and to the pair of them they could almost have been sat in their dining room at the compound. They laughed, they joked, they poked fun at one another. It felt normal. Once they had finished eating they cleared their dishes, Steve grabbed another bottle of wine and they headed to the couch to find something to watch on TV.

“I got you something.” Katie smiled when Steve dropped the wine onto the coffee table and she gestured to the small gift bag resting on the table.

“Oh, me too. Hang on.” He bounded up the stairs to retrieve his gift. As he returned, Katie eyed the two wrapped items with playful suspicion as he handed them to her. One was really heavy. She passed the gift bag containing his to him and he peeked inside, and they shared a childish grin with one another before they set about opening their presents.

“Oh, Steve.” She breathed out as she gently ran her hands over the leather of the anthology he had bought her. Flicking through, she smiled as she spotted all the notes that someone had written in the margins. They consisted of opinions on the plays, themes, characterisation plots, all the type of thing she had studied at University and she found it fascinating to read other people’s interpretations.

“I thought you might like it.” He watched her as she looked at him, her eyes bright, before she then let out another sigh of happiness when she opened the two sheet music books as they would give her something else to play other than the stuff she knew from memory.

And her gift to Steve was equally as thoughtful. He positively beamed when he opened the new blank sketch books, pencils, wax crayons and charcoals. All of his art supplies had been left behind and he’d been dying to get some more.

“Well, the sketchbook is paper.” Katie explained softly. “And I know it relaxes you to draw.” “Doll, its perfect” He assured her, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”

“So, what film do you wanna watch?” She asked, moving for the remote but Steve had no intention of watching a film. Not now. He gently grabbed her wrist and she looked at him.

“Right now, Mrs Rogers, I’d really like to carry you upstairs and take you to bed.”

Katie grinned. “Well that can be arranged, but there’s something I wanna do first.”

He looked at her, puzzled for a moment but when she tapped on her phone and the opening sounds of ‘Only One in Colour’ sounded over the speakers he laughed and stood up, offering her his hand.

“May I have this dance?” He quipped, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Always.” She smiled, allowing him to pull her up.

They moved to the back of the couch where there was more room and he took her in a hold and they simply stayed close, swaying to the music, both of them thinking back to their first dance as a married couple twelve months ago. Katie pressed her cheek to Steve’s chest and he in turn rest his chin on the top of her head, revelling in her closeness. He heard her let out a soft sigh, but this one was contentment, and he gently moved to look down at her. For a moment Katie felt her breath catch, he was looking at her with nothing but unadulterated desire and love, the same way he had on their wedding day, and before the song had even finished, he’d captured her lips in a soft kiss, his hands moving to cradle her face. Hers fisted in his white T-shirt and it wasn’t long before the kiss had deepened causing a moan to catch in Steve’s throat. Without a word he pulled back and scooped her up in his arms, bridal style, causing her to giggle, a sound he would never tire of, and quick as a flash he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom.

He set her on her feet but before he had time to do anything she’d shoved him backwards, catching him off guard slightly causing him to sit down harshly on the bed and he let out a smirk as she straddled him before she kissed him again and he was happy to reciprocate exactly how he knew she liked, firm and gentle, passionate and caring all at once. Katie gently bit his lower lip drawing another groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his hands gently gipping her hip.

“You know,” She drew back slightly to cup his face in her fingertips. “I really do like kissing you with this.” she traced her hand across the short beard on his face. She also liked looking at him with it too because, coupled with the fact his hair was also getting slightly longer, it gave him a rugged, harder, rougher look taking him farther and farther away from the Blue-Eyed all American boy day by day.

“I’m getting used to it.” He murmured pressing a soft kiss to her mouth before his head dropped, small kisses trailing up the length of her neck, that precious stubble creating an amazing contrast to the softness of his mouth.

“Yeah, me too.” She gave a soft moan, her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck. Steve smiled slightly, happy to oblige and just take his god damned time loving his wife. Eventually, his lips made their way up her jaw and then she sat up slightly, grasping at the hem of his T-shirt. He moved to allow her to take it off and then his fingers made short work of the sleeveless button down she had been wearing, shrugging it down over her shoulders before he peppered more kisses across her collar bone and down her sternum as he reached round to undo her bra. Gently, he lay her flat down on the bed, taking a nipple in his mouth, this time drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily upwards at the sensations spiking through her body.

God it really had been far too long since he’d lavished attention on her like this and Steve made a mental note to tell Sam and Wanda to ‘take a walk’ a lot more often. It was almost two months now since they had last been intimate and, his body was aching for her, desperate to feel her, and from the noises she was making she felt the same. His lips made their way down, nose and beard skimming along the waistband of her jeans before he undid them, sliding them down with her underwear as he shed his own too before he crawled back over her.

Katie pushed on his shoulders slightly so she could roll him over and placed herself on top of him, brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other drawing a gentle moan from his lips, hands flexing on her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down him, her hands falling to his chest and once he was fully sheathed inside of her, she began to work him gently. His hands slid up into her hair, as she leaned forward to kiss him and he raised his hips slightly and she whimpered, pushing down harder against him as his hands gently kneaded at her breasts. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every push she made, his eyes grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her down, grinding further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands round her back, pulling her closer to him as he bent to kiss her neck, biting at that spot whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Katie rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him, and he let out a groan of his own.

“Good?” He panted, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, as he pulled her to him harder, hands back on her hips as his rutting picked up speed.

“Stevie…” She mumbled, her eyes locking onto his as her hands slid up his back and fisted into his hair. A few more pushes later and they were both done for, her name escaping from his lips as her walls collapsed completely, and she let out a soft cry as she fell forward burying her face in his neck. He was close behind, letting out a gentle moan, his beard rustling against her ear as he jerked underneath her, clinging onto her as if he never wanted to let her go. And at that moment he didn’t.

After a minute or so he leaned back, his breathing deep as he brushed her hair back off her face before sliding his nose against hers. “Happy Anniversary, Kitten.” *******

Steve thought the fall in New York was gorgeous but that was nothing compared to what it was like where they were. He was feeling a lot more positive about things as well, as post their anniversary, he and Katie had made a pact that they would do  something alone together at least once a week, be it a walk along the cliff the beach, or straying into town to one of the local restaurants. His hair and beard now rendered him pretty much unrecognisable and they never got a second glance at all. 

Steve’s favourite ‘date’, if you could them that, was the walk they took in the pitch black to see the Northern Lights late one evening. Katie had been utterly captivated by the beauty of the Aurora Borealis and Steve had to admit, it was spectacular. Committing it to memory was easy, and a few days later Katie wasn’t surprised to find a perfect replica of them his sketch book.

Being on the run shouldn’t have been this easy, and they were constantly on edge, waiting for the time they had to split and run, but whilst they could, they made the most of it. 

Thanksgiving came, then Christmas, the four friends making it as festive as possible. They got a tree, shared gifts, enjoyed a Christmas Meal, and after several drinks each, Steve wheeled the piano into the living room where Sam and Katie gave a rousing rendition of ‘Fairy Tale of New York’ along with a few other Christmas songs. It was different, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable.

And then, in March 2017, they had a call from T’Challa. They were ready to bring Bucky out of cryo. Katie and Steve instantly set about making the arrangements to go to Wakanda, but it turns out they weren’t the only ones planning on taking a little trip…

“There’s something I wanted to discuss with you all.” Wanda said, the morning they were due to depart. “Please don’t freak out, but I talked to Vision last night.”

“What?” Katie’s voice was quiet as she merely looked back at the younger woman, her face passive.

Meanwhile, both Steve and Sam’s eyebrows shot up in their foreheads.

“Hold on, what do you mean you talked to Vision?” Steve asked. “How? Where?”

“This is going to sound really weird, but I saw him in my dreams,” Wanda carried on with her explanation.

“How do you know that wasn’t just a dream?” Sam asked.

“Because it wasn’t,” Wanda shrugged “I don’t know how to explain it, but I know it was him and I know it was real. I think we are connected somehow, because of the Mind Stone and because I was thinking about him before I went to sleep, it made some kind of telepathy possible.”

Steve pondered it for a second, thinking to himself how ridiculous that sounded until he realised they were talking about an enhanced human who had gained certain telepathic and telekinetic powers due to experimentation with the Mind Stone and an android that now carried within his synthetic, vibranium-mesh body said gem. 

When you put it like that it seemed fairly logical.

"What did you talk about?” Katie asked after a moment.

“Just stuff, how I was, how much we, you know, miss one another” Wanda bit her lip. “We talked about actually meeting in person in a few days.”

“Okay, hold on,” Sam held one of his hands up, his brow furrowed. “How do we know this is not a trap? Like, I don’t know, Tony getting Vision to talk to you to get us back into the Raft?”

As soon as Sam said it Katie shook her head. Tony could sometimes be a jackass and he may have been hurt and mad at her and Steve, but she knew despite his stinging barb in Siberia, he wouldn’t want them all thrown in jail.

“He wouldn’t do that,” She looked at Sam.

“How do you know?” Sam pressed.

“Because Tony has way better tech than us, and there’s no accounting for what Vision can do with that Mind Stone.” Steve backed his wife up. This was something he had been pondering on for a while now too. “If anyone can find us, it’s them, yet we’re almost ten months down the line now since Leipzig and so far, there’s no sign of any one, so Tony’s either no longer working with Ross, or if he is, he’s dragging his feet deliberately.”

“Exactly,” Wanda nodded emphatically. “And Vision would never do anything to hurt me, not intentionally. I trust him with my life, but it’s more than that.”

Taking a deep breath, his mind made up, Steve turned to Wanda “You’re not a prisoner here Wanda. If you want to go then we can’t and we won’t stop you.”

“Do you want to go?” Katie looked at the younger woman who was wringing her hands together.

“I do but, well, I kinda feel like I’m fraternizing with the enemy.”

“He’s not the enemy. None of them are. Not Vision or Rhodey, Not Tony, none of them.” Steve ran his hand through his hair, sweeping the long strands back off his face. “We all wanted the same thing, to do good in this world but we disagreed on how best to make it happen. Doesn’t make us enemies.”

“But we’re on the run because…”

“This was always going to happen.” Katie cut her off, shaking her head “Ever since SHIELD collapsed and Fury stepped away there was a power vacuum. It was only a matter of time before the Government tried to step in to oversee us.”

“And let’s face it, I was always going to be considered a rogue threat the moment I refused to comply” Steve said, a wry smile on his face. “We all were.”

“Just be careful.” Katie looked at Wanda. “And whilst we’re away just make sure you check in once in a while? And the first sign of trouble, well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Well if Wanda’s being granted shore leave so to speak, I might take a bit of time too.” Sam chipped in as the idea came to him. “There’s an old RAF pal of mine, based near Liverpool that I aint seen in a while. He’s cool,” he anticipated the next question, “I saved his life on a mission so he won’t sell me out.” Steve took a deep breath and then shrugged “You know the risks, Sam. If any of us get caught then…” “Back to the Pokey.” Sam shrugged “Yeah, I got it. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t rat your location out.”

“Me neither.” Wanda added. 

“I don’t for a second believe you would.” Steve shook his head.

“I suppose, to be fair,” Katie bit her lip, “we’ve been here for a long time now. It won’t harm us to disappear for a while, regroup in a few weeks. And we’ll draw even less attention apart as they won’t be expecting it.” And so, for the first time in ten months, the four went their separate ways. ****** True to his word, Steve was there when they woke Bucky up. Once he had come round the two greeted one another with the same love and affection they always did. Suri’s scans showed that the programming was no longer present in Bucky’s brain, but there was one last thing they had to do to make sure.

Say the trigger words.

Which was why Katie, Steve, a one armed Bucky and T’Challa were now heading to the underground fort of the palace. Katie clutching a rifle, Steve was unarmed bar his super strength, whilst T’Challa was in his black panther garb, the party flanked by two members of his Kings Guard.

As they were about to enter the underground cell, Bucky grabbed Katie’s arm and pulled her to one side.

“What the hell Bucky?” She almost yelped, and he let go of her arm and held his finger to his lips.

“Listen, Doll Face, I got a favour to ask. If this hasn’t worked…” He took a deep breath. “I want you to end it.”

“End what?”  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Me.” He replied simply “Steve said you’re a good shot. I want you to put a bullet in my head.” Katie blinked, and then burst out laughing. “Whatever.” “I’m being deadly serious.” Bucky looked at her. “I can’t and I don’t want to live like that anymore.” He shook his head sadly. “I’d rather die that know that what they’ve done is still in there.” “Bucky,” Katie frowned, “you’d be safe here, you know that, no one would trigger you.” “No, we don’t know that.” He shook his head. “Please Katie, I’m begging you. You owe me.” “So you save my life and you want me to take yours?” “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“You’re an asshole, James Buchanan Barnes” She hissed, glaring at him before shooting a glance over his shoulder at where Steve was stood, talking to T’Challa. She shook her head sadly. “I can’t. It’d kill Steve and it’s wrong, you don’t…”

“Listen, I’m asking you because I trust you to do it.” Bucky cut her off, looking over his shoulder to where she had been watching Steve. He was now stood observing the pair of them and they both smiled at him. Katie took a deep breath, looking into Bucky’s steel blue eyes and gave a sigh. She knew how hard this was on him and she could fully understand where he was coming from but still, asking her to do it, especially when she knew Steve would be besides himself made her feel sick.

“I’ve written him a letter.” Bucky said quickly, as the Super Soldier was now making his way over. “It explains what I’ve asked you to do. So please, give me your word.”

She looked at him, swallowing, and gave him a small nod before her eyes flicked to Steve as he approached, a frown on his face.

“You two alright?”

“Yeah, Katie was just asking me how I was really feeling.” Bucky looked at his friend.

Katie shrugged and smiled at Steve in what she hoped as a convincing way “Wanted to make sure he was alright, that’s all.”

Steve studied her for a moment, and she smiled again before he turned to Bucky. “It’s gonna be ok.” Steve assured his friend, clapping him on his shoulder, shooting another glance at his wife who was nervously chewing her lip. He frowned again, but pushed the suspicion to the back of his mind and then nodded. “Come on.” “Yeah, let’s get this over with.” Bucky mumbled.

Steve and T’Challa stepped into the room which was sealed whilst Katie took up her position on the other side of the one way glass with Suri who pressed the microphone to talk into the room.

““I don’t know why you are all worrying, brother, it is like you do not trust me…” the young woman scoffed. “Take no chances Sister.” T’Challa shot back. “You know this”.

Suri made a noise in her throat and then spoke again “Ok, I’m ready when you are.” She held the red book in her hand that they had recovered from Zumo. T’Challa engaged his helmet whilst Steve stood stoic as ever, throwing a glance over his shoulder to the glass he knew his wife was stood at the other side of.

“Ready Buck?” he asked turning back. His friend nodded, taking a deep breath.

T’Challa signalled to Suri who, after a little hesitation, began to read, each word punctuated by a pause.

“Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace…”

Katie watched intently and saw Bucky was clenching his teeth and suddenly she started to get a little bit nervous. She wasn’t the only one that had spotted it either. Steve moved slightly, adopting a little more of a battle stance than he had been as he clocked his friends reaction.

“Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight Car”

The last words hit Steve like a truck. It was depraved that Hydra would use those words. Bucky had plunged from a train car to his supposed death. There was no randomness to that at all, unlike the seemingly obscure nature of the rest of the words, nor was it any accident it was the last trigger they would use. There were the final words because they signified the death of Bucky and the birth of the killer Winter Soldier.

Sick bastards.

Bucky’s chest was heaving, his fist was clenching, and for a split second Steve feared the worse. But when his friend looked up, he saw the blue eyes of Bucky Barnes looking back at him, and not the icy glare of the Winter Soldier.

“Buck?” He asked gently, his voice cracking slightly. Bucky looked at him, a single tear falling down his cheek.

“Nothing.” He croaked, and Katie let out a soft sigh of relief, her hands sliding down her face to cover her mouth. “Nothing.”

T’Challa threw a party of sorts that night which consisted of a bar crawl through the city. Katie and Bucky dubbed it a ‘Fuck HYDRA’ party much to Steve’s chagrin. But he couldn’t bring himself to care that much, as at the end of the day, if anyone had as much right to stick their middle fingers up to HYDRA it was them. There was still something troubling him though, so when T’Challa left the bar they were sat at for a few moments, he turned to Bucky and asked him outright what had been going on with him and Katie outside the cell before. Bucky hesitated before he hung his head slightly and peered up at Steve from where he was sat next to him, a tumbler of some kind of Wakandan alcohol in his hand.

“I asked her to kill me.” Bucky admitted, swilling the liquid round in the glass “If it hadn’t worked I asked her to put a bullet in my head. She didn’t want to but I told her she owed me.” Steve felt himself blanche. “You did what?” “You don’t know what it’s like.” Bucky shook his head. “Living with the fact that at any time someone could mutter a string of words and…” He shot back the alcohol and slid his empty glass back to the Bar Tender to top up. “I didn’t want to live like that.”

”You put that on her?” Steve’s eyes flashed with anger, “Damnit Buck, you should have asked me!”

“Would you have done it?” Bucky countered. Steve took a big sigh, knowing he was caught “Exactly.” Bucky scoffed. “And besides, you’re the one that said she was a dead shot.”

Bucky eyed his friend for a while before he slid his empty glass to the man behind the bar, gesturing for another top up. “Anyway, it’s irrelevant now because here I am.”

“That was still a shitty thing to do.” Steve frowned before he reached over for his glass, giving a little shrug. “But yeah, here you are.” T’Challa chose that point to come back and he settled at the bar next to Steve.

“So, Sergeant Barnes, we’ll have to see about getting you some permanent lodgings.” The King smiled “Maybe a private hut. There is a quiet tribe, not far from the river, unless you would prefer a post in my Kings Guard.” “I’m done fighting.” Bucky shook his head as he took another drink from his glass. “A hut sounds mighty fine. Maybe I can get some goats.” “Goats?” Steve looked at him.

“I like Goats.” Bucky shrugged “Do you remember the one in the petting zoo near School?” “Yeah, it set my asthma off.” Steve snorted before the pair of them descended into laughter.

Across the bar, Katie was stood with Suri and one of T’Challa’s personal guards, Okoye. She instantly warmed to Okoye, the woman reminding her a lot of Natasha. They stood chatting for a while before a loud roll of laughter caught their attention and they turned to see T’Challa, Bucky and Steve howling at something, as T’Challa gestured for the bar tender to top up their glasses whilst Okoye excused herself to head over to speak to her husband. 

“Oh dear, they’ve broken out the Wakandan Spice.” Suri muttered, eyeing up the men.

“What’s that?” Katie asked.

“The only thing that gets my brother drunk!” Suri snorted “That stuff could knock out a rhino.”

“So it should have an effect on Super Soldiers?” Katie grinned.

“Let’s go find out!” Suri nodded, a cheeky grin on her face. They made their way over and Katie could see instantly the woman was right. Steve had a glazed look in his eyes and Bucky was leaning back in his chair, a pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Hey, Beautiful” Steve smiled up at Katie, pulling her into his lap, his hand trailed up and down her spine, lazily. “Where you been all evening?”

“About ten meters away over there.” She smirked, pointing. Suri was reaching over to steal a bit of the liquor from Bucky’s glass and T’Challa slapped her hand. “You are not even old enough to drink.” He glared at her.

“Tssk hush brother. Just because you are now well into your thirties. You always seem to be so bitter about me being much younger than you.” At that Bucky barked out a laugh.

“Don’t know what you’re snorting at old man.” Katie glanced at him and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Not exactly a comment I’d expect from someone who’s married to a hundred-year-old man.”

“Ninety-eight.” Steve corrected.

Katie leaned back in her husband’s lap to peer at him, her right hand running through his hair. "Doesn’t look a day over twenty five.” She grinned.

“Hey brother, why doesn’t your power stop your ageing?”  Suri quipped.

“Shut up.” T’Challa glared at her. “Before I carry you back to the palace”

As the two siblings began to quibble, Katie glanced at Steve. “Been talking about the good old days?” “In a fashion.” Steve smirked.

“Anymore good tales of your misspent youth to tell me?” Bucky shook his head. “Sure Steve’s told you enough already.”

“I never told her about the time you set up a double date for us and then forgot to show up.” Steve looked at him, his arms tightening around his wife.

“That never happened.” Bucky shook his head.

“It absolutely happened. Caroline O’Hara and Deborah Smith”  

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, yeah. Brunette and a red head. A curly red head.” He grinned.

“Yup. Double date to the theatre, only you never showed up.” Steve looked at him, accusingly “And little old me was left to explain to Debbie why you had stood her up.”

Bucky smirked into his glass.

"I thought she was gonna kill me.” Steve mused, turning to look at Katie. “She kept hitting me with her purse. And then Caroline started, asking where the hell he was and why he thought it fit to stand up her best friend and try to fix her up with some kind of joke.”

Katie frowned, narrowing her eyes. “You weren’t a joke.”

“Thanks, Honey.” He grinned before he turned to fix Bucky with a glare. “And do you remember why you didn’t show up?” Bucky was now shaking with mirth, as he looked at Steve, his eyes bright with tears of laughter. “Go on, tell her Buck.”

“I was with Maggie Dougherty.” Bucky smirked

“Yeah, you were.” Steve pointed at him. “That was the night you got caught sneaking out of her room and down her fire escape by her dad who beat the crap out of you.”

“Worth it though.” Bucky snorted. “She was hot. Strawberry blonde waves, pretty face, nice ass.” “Yeah.” Steve nodded and Katie slapped the back of his head.

“Oww!” He looked at her as she glared at him. Grinning he reached up to give her a soft kiss “Not a patch on you though, Darlin’”

After another hour or so, Katie left them to it, heading back to the palace with Suri. She’d had enough, the alcohol she had drunk had lulled her into that happy place here she felt warm and fuzzy inside, and ready for bed.

Steve woke her up when he came crashing into the room a few hours later.

“Shit.” He mumbled, as he banged into the chair by the dresser. “Shhhh”

He staggered over to the bed before face planting straight down. Katie grinned as he peeked up at her.

“I’m drunk.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” She giggled and scrambled out of the duvet. “Come on, get in bed.” “Promises, promises.”

“Yeah, not a chance pal. I doubt very much you’d be of any use in this state.”

“Hey.” He pouted rolling over so he was on his back, turning to look at her as she moved to climb out of bed. “That’s my shirt.”

“I know.” She dropped to the floor to take off his suede boots.

“I like you in my shirts. I like you better out of them.” Steve grinned, grabbing hold of her as she stood up.

“How much have you had?” She laughed as he pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling into her neck.

“Enuff.” he spoke back, voice muffled. “You know you’re the prettiest gal in the whole world?” He peeked up at her and she had to laugh as she ruffled his hair. 

“Arms up.”

“I like it when you undress me.” He grinned and Katie gave a chuckle, shaking her head.  Eventually she managed to tug off his shirt and his jeans whilst he made some other reference to sex, before he pulled her back down onto the bed next to him, giggling like a school kid.

“Bucky told me.” He slurred.

“Told you what?”

“That he asked you to shoot him.” Steve hiccupped “But I’m glad you didn’t have to.”

Katie chuckled to herself “Me too.” “And now he’s all better.” Steve sighed. “Good, isn’t it?” “It’s awesome.” Shhe smiled, reaching up to bush his hair off his face. “You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow.” He responded with shrug. “But I do love you. So much.”

“I know and I love you too. Now you gonna get into bed?”

He pushed himself up before beginning a monumental fight with the duvet to get underneath it, the whole thing a great source of amusement to Katie. She’d seen him tipsy from the Asgardian stuff Thor gave him before, but not flat out shit faced like this.

“Are you gonna puke?” She asked, stroking his head as he sighed, nuzzling into her chest. 

“No.” He assured her, then paused, before he hiccupped slightly. “But I think I need water.” “Alright, wait there.” Katie climbed out of bed. She grabbed him a bottle from the mini fridge near the door but by the time she had turned back, Steve had his face buried into his pillow and made nothing more than a noise when she offered it to him, not looking up. Deciding she couldn’t be bothered to argue with him, she gently placed the bottle on the night stand next to him, and ran her hand through his hair one more time before she crossed to her side of the bed and settled down with him.

“Night, Soldier.” She smiled softly, kissing his cheek.

“Night, Princess.” He slurred into his pillow.

**** Chapter 35

**Original Posting**

[diyunho]

The Joker X Reader - “What Death Tastes Like” Part 2

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1         Part 3        Part 4      Part 5

“That was very nice,” you whisper in The Joker’s ear. “I know you’re not sleeping,” you sigh and force yourself to get out of his bed after watching TV together for almost 3 hours. “I’m going, OK?” you whisper, not sure why he’s ignoring you. But you have a clue: he probably just wanted to avoid a huge fight with Emma or your father finding out about his cruel words regarding your illness. “Fine, whatever…” you admonish and exit the premises, upset he’s behaving like that since he offered truce a few hours ago. The King of Gotham is actually completely out, even if you believe otherwise.

It was awesome having him carry you in his arms and not protest when you kissed him; you have to admit you were disappointed he didn’t initiate anything once you ended up in his bed; you really thought he would. J let you snuggle to him and you hoped for more to happen, yet his lack of interest made you realize it was stupid to try and hint you wanted him. What is a 40-ish old man supposed to do with a 22 years old woman that playfully keeps flirting with him? In this case, obviously just enjoy a couple of movies which proved he doesn’t take into consideration your dumb crush.

The more you analyze this night, the more you’re inclined to vote for the exact opposite of what you did: you should have kept your mouth shut and refrain sharing intimate matters with him.

I guess sometimes genius truly skips a generation …

*************

3 Weeks Later

You didn’t come to the mansion in the last 3 weeks: when J woke up the next morning after your visit, you were gone. Emma informed him you waited for her to catch up and then went home; he wondered if you left because of what happened or if there was no reason for it at all. One thing’s for certain though: The Joker got the slight impression you evade him, especially since two days ago you dropped Emma off then raced out of the property in a hurry when you noticed he was coming out of the house. The skid marks on the pavement were a pretty clear sign you didn’t want to linger at the place you normally enjoyed hanging out at.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t mean you can escape The Clown Prince of Crime forever.

“OK,” Emma gives you a soft nudge in the restaurant owned by her parent. “You gotta help me out,” she pleads to a skeptical Y/N. “I insisted we have lunch here for a good reason: my dad brought his wacko-on-and-off-girlfriend and I can’t stand her; I need backup. Please flirt with him and say that stuff you usually say!” she giggles. “You have my blessing to go crazy, I swear you won’t hear a peep out of me! It will be hilarious to see her reaction!” she pushes you and it’s too late to escape the unwanted rendezvous you had no clue about until now.

You are already at the table and didn’t have a moment to take in your best friend’s proposal: you wish you had a warning about this plan of hers but Emma impulsiveness and surprise element runs in the family.

Maybe she thought you would love such a funny challenge…

Yeah… not really...

You know Mara anyway and bumping into her alongside J is not enjoyable to say the least, mainly due to the odd atmosphere you hope his daughter won’t notice.

“Hi daddy,” Emma pulls her chair and you take a seat by her muttering a faint hello.

“Hey kid!... … Miss Crane,” he sneers and you intensely stare at the menu in front of you without blinking.  

“I didn’t see you in forever,” Mara addresses you and you indifferently glare at her. “I must say you look terrific: you are glowing! What’s your secret?” she snickers and you duly inform:

“I’m dying. I’m sure you remember I have terminal cancer; my dad makes my meds and they do help somewhat, thus the glow.”

“As long as you’re not contagious,” the woman underlines and Emma gasps at her affirmation.

You smirk and reach over to touch her forearm, softly digging your nails in her skin.

“I am and now that I touched you, you’ll die too!”

You get up from the table while hearing The Joker saying something but your ears are ringing so you can’t discern a word.

“How can you say stuff like this?!” Emma reprimands and you calmly take a small ampule from your pocket, open it and pour some dust in the palm of your hand.

“I was just expressing a concern,” Mara gesticulates and you bend over, blowing the fine ashes in her face.

“What the fuck?!” she quickly brushes the ticklish powder off her cheeks, worried at your action. “What is this?!”

“Nightmare,” you scoff. “One of my father’s top products. I recently assisted him make it stronger and there’s no antidote. Don’t worry though, it won’t kill you and it will wear off in a few hours. Plus, it’s not contagious. Enjoy!” you leave the gathering and Emma follows, enraged things didn’t go as planned yet she can’t blame Y/N.

Since the restaurant is closed to the public due to his owner’s presence, there’s not a soul around besides J that can hear Mara’s terrified screams once the wicked hallucinogen kicks in: it’s called Nightmare for a good reason!

*************

6:02PM

“Knock, knock,” The Joker enters Scarecrow’s lab, already in a foul mood.

“Not a step further!” his movement gets halted. “Sterilize yourself if you want in: I’m making more capsules for Y/N,” Crane points at the numerous ingredients on the counter.

“Your lab is huge, if I stay right here…” J tries to convince Jonathan although he’s aware he has zero chances: it never succeeds but his stubbornness prompts him to fight the request each time.

“No!” your father firmly rejects the proposal. “Sterilize yourself and come help me!”

“Where’s your daughter?” The King of Gotham starts washing his hands in the sink by the glass sliding doors.

“She went to stay at the cabin. I got lectured,” your dad huffs, scolding in the next second: “You’re not done! More!” he commands and J reprises the cleaning process required by his very obliging host.

“Ugh,” he mumbles and continues. “Why did you get lectured?”

“Apparently, I buried myself in this place and she hates it. I also got threatened that if I don’t stop trying to find a remedy for her incurable disease, she’ll quit taking the current medications. I received orders to call Evelyn and beg for reconciliation also,” Scarecrow briefs a gratified King of Gotham:

“I guess we both have someone in our lives we can’t neglect,” The Joker dries his hands, puts on latex gloves and snatches an immaculate lab coat from the hanger nearby.

“What am I to do?...” Crane whispers. “Let my daughter die without trying to save her?...” then immediately snaps out of it. “Hair net!!!!” he shouts at The Joker, annoyed he’s trying to skip it.

“For God’s sake,” J complaints … still does as required. “What’s in for me in exchange for my services?”

“What do you want?”

“Two vials of your new, improved Nightmare formula. I witnessed it at work today and let me tell you, that stuff’s amazing!”

“How did you witnessed it at work?! It’s not released on the black market yet,” Jonathan carefully measures the quantities for your medicine.

“Oh, funny you should mention,” the evident sarcasm makes your father pay attention. “Y/N used it on Mara earlier today and she totally lost her mind! I had to lock her up in the pantry at the restaurant with three of my men guarding the door! She went bonkers!!!”

“Sorry,” Scarecrow’s flat tone irritates J. “I guess either you or Mara did something Y/N didn’t like. Welcome to my daughter’s shit list,” he cordially emphasizes.

“You shouldn’t talk to me like this,” The Joker fixes his green locks under the hair net. “One of these days I might become your son-in-law, you know Y/N showers me with her undivided affection.”

“Over my dead body!” Jonathan shrieks and The Clown Prince of Crime seems delighted.

“Hmmm… I can arrange that.”

“Just shut up and help me, would you? What am I paying you for?! Y/N needs more capsules; she’s almost out. Can you tell Emma to take this to her? I’m gonna let her chill, she’s still mad at me.”

“Wimp, you’re afraid to confront her,” J rolls his eyes and Scarecrow is not the one to be intimidated by his guest’s nonsense:

“Says the man that freaked out and searched the town for hours thinking his daughter run away when in fact she was asleep behind the rose bushes in the backyard at their mansion.”

“I didn’t freak out!” The Joker sulks at the unwelcomed reminder.

“Of course you didn’t,” Jonathan serenely replies. “Now fill out the capsules with the amount I already weighted and don’t mess up! I’ll verify your performance.”

“Give it a rest!” J growls. “Emma left for New York; she’ll be there for a couple of days. I’ll take this to Y/N.”

“Don’t think so,” he gets cut off. “I’ll send one of my couriers.”

“I’ll do it for free.”

“Why?”

“I have a score to settle,” J confesses to Scarecrow’s dismay. 

“If you hassle my daughter, I’ll create a plague designed only for your genes and I’ll exterminate you from this planet!”

“Imagine this is not the first time I’m threatened with a pathogen manufactured to ensure my demise,” The Joker hints even if he doesn’t have to.

“She is my daughter,” Crane explains, entirely understanding the reference. “The branch doesn't fall far from the tree; she knows I would so you’d better watch it!”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, right?” the pushy menace concentrates on his task, adamant in finding a way to see you no matter what.

**************

8:31pm

The Joker drives on the narrow path leading to the cabin, stirring left when a car coming from the opposite direction hunks at him.

“Heeeeyyyyy, Mister Joker!!!!!” someone yells and the other SUV accelerates past J’s yet he has enough time to recognize the aggravating pest: Sam aka Bane’s son. A few unpleasant phrases are grumbled regarding the encounter when another detail sets off the pissed King:

Y/N is racing towards the cabin after recognizing her best friend’s dad vehicle; you came out to say goodbye to Sam and take a walk when your idea abruptly changed.

“Are you kidding me??!!” J grinds his teeth while watching you stumble in the grass, then energetically gather yourself up and sprint inside, slamming the door behind.

“Wow!” he exclaims while parking close to the stairs, unsure on how this day will evolve; so far it goddamned sucked.

“Miss Crane,” The Joker taps at the heavy oak door. “Open up, I have your med!”

Maybe if you don’t engage he’ll leave.

“Is this how you thank me for delivering your pills?!” he gets worked up, thumping intensifying.

“Leave the package on the porch and go away!”

“Oh, she speaks!!!” J instantly snaps. “Open up, it’s cold out here!”

“No it’s not,” you call him out on his bullshit.

“You owe me apologies for what you did to Mara!” he demands, cringing at your defiance.

“Ha! When hell freezes!!!”

“What was Bane’s son doing here?” he tries a different strategy, definitely losing patience.

“None of your business!”

“I brought dinner,” J adds because that’s the last ace in his sleeve. “From the restaurant… your favorite. Aren’t you hungry?”

Does the silence mean you’re giving in?...

“Did you bring strawberry crepes too?”

“Yeah,” The Joker lies since he naturally forgot about desert.

The door faintly creeks and you unlock it, finally letting him in; you’re hesitant about your judgement and snatch the two paper bags out of his hands: the small one contains capsules, the big one harbors foam containers with the foods you like.

“Where are the crepes?” you frown at the lack of the delicious treat.

“I have this suspicion you’ve been avoiding me,” J talks about the reason he’s there without answering your question.

“I’m not…”

“Then why don’t you come to the mansion anymore, hm?”

His gaze circles the living room, involuntarily noticing the blood stained tissues in the trash can by the couch.

“Did you have another episode?” The Joker inquires. “Should I call your dad?”

“No…I’m fine…”

“Are you sure?” he insists and you unwrap the plastic utensils, sniffing.

“It’s not a big deal, it happens more and more often… I wish Emma was here,” you wipe your teary eyes and J bestows his infinite wisdom upon the young woman.

“Well, my daughter’s not here and I’m not renowned for making people feel better,” he twists the cap of the bottled water near him. He takes a sip then gives the container to the confused Y/N. “I’m not sure if this will help, but you can touch something my lips touched.”

You smile at his offer, kind of happy he’s using one of your catchy lines.

“What’s this? Reversed flirting?” you pout and drink from the bottle, placing it on the table afterwards.

He doesn’t bother to respond besides apathetically mentioning:

“I’ll spend the night; it’s dark outside and I don’t want to end up in a ditch.”

“It’s summertime, still sunny,” you highlight the indisputable truth to a guy that couldn’t care less.

“I’m tired. Crane pressured me to work! Did you know he took advantage of my kindness and made me sink a couple of hours in his project? What project you ask?” J cracks his neck although you weren’t curious. “I helped made your treatment,” he blurs out and your blank attitude irks The Clown. “You can compensate me by letting me crash here for the night.”

“I’m 100% sure my dad already compensated your efforts,” Y/N utters.

“Why was Sam here?” the earlier question is reprised in order to distract you.

“Are you jealous?” you nibble on your lasagna and J snarls:

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Then why do you have to know?”

“Professional interest,” the vague disclosure scores absolutely no credits with the feisty Y/N.

“That’s a huuuge load of baloney,” you shake your head and decide to unravel the mystery. “He picked up an item for his father. Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite,” you tease and The Joker protests.

“I’m not worried! I don’t even care! Can I sleep here?” he switches the topic and has to boast: “We can party all night long like we did last time!” J sassily reveals; he believes you’ll mock yet it’s not the case.

“You’re very late to this party…” your voice dies out and The King of Gotham is aware what you’re referring to. He digs his fork in the fresh salad, reassuring on a whim:

“Better late than never…”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 2

Summary: You're a fantasy-loving, LARPing human from this world, who's the black sheep of society because of your obsession for the unreal and alienation of what's real. When you're in the middle of a LARP battle with some pretty phony boars, you fall out of a tree and bust your head. You wake up, alone, and are suddenly attacked by some very pissed-off, very real wargs. Without any idea of how you got there, you got dropped into Middle-Earth, with only bits and pieces of memories of Tolkien's masterpiece, though your recollection of everything else is perfectly clear. And of all places in Middle-Earth, you got dropped into Mirkwood, with some suspicious, potentially hostile, Woodland Elves...

Chapter No.: Chapter 1

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: Listen to Medieval Pagan Music, Runestones when reading this chapter.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, Boromir lives, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Worm Tongue Grima Wormtongue, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

When I said I hated reality, I didn't mean I wanted to be ripped from it without my family.

How they'd healed you so efficiently was beyond your comprehension, and nobody came to visit you. You couldn't bring yourself to eat much of what they brought you. To think you'd finally gotten your wish, you'd finally, somehow gotten sucked into some alternate reality where fiction was fact and what you'd known and lived in for your entire life was nonexistent... It was amazing. Surreal.

But you couldn't stay here. Not without your family. Not without your mom, not without [B/N], not without [S/N]. [F/N]... You wished you could've at least said goodbye to him. Life without the only people you'd ever had seemed unreal, incomprehensible, and too nightmarish. Too... Alone. You couldn't lose them.

For hours, you waited, pacing the ten-by-ten cell furiously. You had to find some way to get out, some way to find whatever portal you'd triggered... A sound at the barred door made you freeze in place, whipping around like a meerkat. It was Blue-Eyes, and some of his guards, one of which was unlocking the door. "Are you letting me go?"

Blue-Eyes stared at you as if trying to figure out whether or not you were desperate or stupid. Finally, he shook his head, probably deciding it was most likely both in your case. Well, screw him. "My father wishes to see you."

You glanced to each of the guards that came to grip either of your arms. "Is that... Bad?"

Blue-Eyes smirked. "It depends on his mood."

You glared at him as the other two Elves ushered you out of the door, onto the precariously thin ledge just outside of the cell. "You're trying to freak me out, aren't you?"

Blue-Eyes didn't answer, but took up the rear of the procession. They lead you to a platform overlooking all of the mazelike bridge-sets of the dungeons, and opened a pair of elaborately crafted doors. You balked, your jaw fell, your eyes widened as far as they'd go, stunned by the view.

The building you'd thought was surrounded by trees? It was a palace-city, which stretched back from the front wall as far as you could see. And it was made entirely of trees. Bridges of wood, twisting trunks, curling pillars of wood holding up a vaultrf ceiling which opened up to the orange-gold canopy, and beyond, the cloudless blue sky. Huge, arched windows with stained glass of amber filled the front wall, framed in wood, every few dozen feet, letting in a golden light that made the entire place seem more surreal than it already was. Leaves fell too slowly here, as if afraid that touching the ground would destroy their fabulousness. Elves inhabited every floor, sailing gracefully around like gorgeous swans that glared down at the sudden ugly duckling in their midst.

You felt tiny.

"This is your home?" You breathed in amazement, going where the guards took you on autopilot as you drank in the magnificent sight. "It's bigger than the town I live in!"

"This is just a small portion of it," Blue-Eyes had a hint of pride in his voice. You glanced over your shoulder to see him taking in the view with a faint smile on his face. "This part is my father's palace. Only nobles and militia reside here."

"It's beautiful..." You surveyed the palace in awe. I'm here. I'm really here! This is where I'm supposed to be! "Do you all have different floors? Is it flameproof? What happens if there's a forest fire? Can you even get forest fires here?"

"Why would you like to know?" Blue-Eyes demanded sharply, all kindness gone just as suddenly as it'd arrived, replaced with obvious suspicion and disdain.

You sighed, and dropped the subject. You wouldn't be finding anything out about this place today. The guards lead you up a short flight of stairs, which stopped at a huge circular pavilion, lined with a different type of guard in silver armor and navy-blue masks covering their lower faces. They stood almost impossibly still, and each carried a deadly spear.

More stairs, curving upward from each side of the pavilion, lead to a massive throne of carved wood. A regal Elf lounged on it, holding a curled wooden staff. He wore silver robes lined on the inside with a deep crimson, and a crown of thin branches styled like an elk's antlers --or maybe a thornbush-- sat atop his head of snow-white hair. Piercing blue eyes watched you from underneath strangely dark (And thick.) brows, but his catlike face was drawn into an unreadable expression.

Blue-Eyes stepped before you and the guards, and put his right arm over his chest, fist resting over his heart, as he bowed at the waist. "My king, we have brought the prisoner."

Inwardly, you winced. What kind of father forced his son to call him 'my king'?

The Elvenking flicked his fingers toward the guards on either side of you. "Leave us."

As they left with barely a clink of armor, Blue-Eyes grabbed you roughly by the shoulder, forcing you to your knees. His grip was like iron. He leaned down to snarl in your ear, "Show respect. His majesty has shown you a great kindness in allowing you to live."

Aw, fuck. You forgot that these guys had healed you. If Lord Fabulous over there had decided that by even so much as breathing near his lands you didn't deserve for your wounds to be healed, you'd be dead right now. "O-oh..." You quickly fixed your position, and even bowed your head with an arm over your chest, like Blue-Eyes had done. "Sorry..."

"My son tells me he found you trying to escape from warg-bound orcs on our northern border," Elvenking drawled slowly. Wargs... Those big dogs... Why does that sound familiar? Were they in a book? Mythology? A game? You couldn't remember, and Elvenking didn't give you time to. "You were found near-death, and without any apparent recollection of how you came to be there. Is that correct?"

You weren't sure how to adress him. "Yes, sir. My lord. Your majesty. I'm sorry."

Elvenking continued. "Would you like to elaborate on what you do remember?"

His tone wasn't kind. It was "Tell me bitch or I will throw you off into the chasms below."

And there were lots of chasms.

"You won't believe me," You started, and risked a glance; Blue-Eyes and Elvenking watched you warily. You could easily say you were from this world, but you didn't know anything about it. You couldn't lie believably. And even if you could, Elves can sense lies. You figured you'd get some extra points if you were totally honest. "But I'll tell you anyway." So you started out with your explanation of coming from a place called Earth, and that you'd been having a battle against some pretty fake boars played by unconvincing actors in Live Action Roleplay, when you'd fallen out of a tree, banged yourself up, and knocked yourself out. You then proceeded to explain about the big dogs and the orcs.

Elvenking lifted his chin slightly for the sole purpose of glowering at you. "Tell me more of this... Earth." You told him all you could. About cars and trains and jets and phones, then on to TVs and movies, and the huge skyscrapers, and how modern slang was different from what it had been, and how where you came from, Elves and orcs and dragons were all part of a genre known as fantasy. You even tried, for a brief period of time, to explain the subject of eMail and social sites like Tumblr and Twitter, but you gave up at their odd looks as they tried to comprehend the concept. You told them about all seven continents, presidents, world leaders, endless wars, hunger, trashing the planet and all other shit that was wrong with Earth.

You could've been there for hours explaining it all. When you were finished, Elvenking regarded you like he'd just came to the conclusion that you just weren't normal. "It seems, [Y/N], that your world is poisoned."

"It is!" You agreed excitedly. "Nobody cares about it anymore! It's why I grew up to be so... Un-normal, by my world's standards."

"I see..." Elvenking blinked slowly. "Then you are, since you are a spawn of this Earth, equal poison to this world, are you not?"

All the blood drained from your face. "What?"

He looked to Blue-Eyes. "Kill them."

Blue-Eyes gripped you by the back of the head, and your hands flew to his wrist as he yanked your head back. With a flourish, he drew one of his ivory-handled knives and pressed it to your throat. "Wait!" You screamed, and Elvenking raised a hand.

"Last words?" Blue-Eyes sneered.

"I don't know where I am," You choked out quickly; the cool steel of the blade was digging into your neck, cutting a fine line. "I don't know how I got here, but usually when stuff like this happens in movies, there's always a portal. Let me find it-- send an escort if you want! Take me back to where you found me, and I'll find the portal and go home. You'll never see me again!"

Elvenking dropped his hand, and your heart jumped, expecting your head to go with it. "Do you really think that is wise? I sense no dishonesty from you, but you could very well be a spy from your world, which seems so intent on conquering and destroying peace. I will not let this world, much less my own land, fall prey to yours."

"I won't tell anyone about you, or this place, I promise! I don't even know where this is!" Tears of frustration pricked the corners of your eyes. "I'm not a damn spy! I don't even know how I got here! Give me a couple of days to find the portal. Then I'll leave. What if there was a way for you to know I'll keep my word? Like a blood-oath, or something!"

"And if asked where you had gone?" Blue-Eyes countered, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'll tell them I went to Narnia, dammit! They never take me seriously anyway!" Your eyes widened. "This isn't Narnia, is it? Narnia didn't have Elves!"

"No, this is not... Narnia." Elvenking replied. "And you will not know the name of this land. You have three days to find your portal. You will be accompanied by a small assembly of my best warriors. If you do not find the door to your world within the given three days... I will give the order to kill you."

You swallowed hard. The steel dragged across your throat painfully. "Th-that sounds fair." It didn't, but, you just rolled with it.

"Legolas, you will go with them," Elvenking said; something clicked in your mind. You knew that name... You knew that name. But... Why?

Blue-Eyes-- Legolas-- nodded and finally removed the blade from your throat. Lord Fabulous inclined his head once, and you vaguely thanked him, too concerned with how you knew Blue-Eyes's name. He kept a tight, painful grip on your arm, actually digging his fingers in until you were pretty sure he cut off most of your circulation.

When you reached your cell, he thrust you in roughly, making you stumble forward. You whipped around to glare at him. "Could you be careful, Blue-Eyes?"

He paused in locking the door. Confused, he brought his sapphire eyes to meet your [e/c] ones. "What did you just call me?"

"Blue-Eyes," You suddenly felt a little embarassed about picking a nickname for him. Shit, you'd never let that bother you before. He could screw off. "I didn't know your name until a few minutes ago, so... I just picked something to call you."

He raised an eyebrow incredulously. "And you chose to call me after my eyes." It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

You flushed a little, glancing to the side with only your eyes nervously, then back to him. "Uh... Yeah. That's pretty much it."

He rolled his eyes and walked away. Before you even realized what you were doing, you'd ran to the bars and grabbed hold of them, pressing your cheek up against them to watch him walk away. "Blue-Eyes!" He stopped, but didn't turn around. "Your name... Legolas. I think I've heard it before."

He turned his head slightly, like he might be interested, but your hopes fell through the floor when he just continued walking. You immediately wished you'd've said something to get his attention, so he'd come talk to you. Like, Hey, I'm really a spy for Earth, MWAHAHAHAHAHA.

Ok, maybe not that drastic...

But you did wish he'd stayed to talk to you. Even if he'd tried to kill you. Legolas... You slid down the bars, sitting on the floor. Your knees came up to your chest of their own accord. Legolas... What do your Elf eyes see? You knew that you knew his name, but where did you know it from?

They're taking...

Aw, damn. It was right on the tip of your brain. Lord Fabulous looked really familiar, too. He reminded you of Ronan the Accuser from Marvel. Why couldn't you remember? Was it a side-effect of being tossed to another reality? What else did you not remember...?

You sat there for hours, until one of the guards brought you some food. You picked at the meal, as a tune got stuck in your head that you couldn't quite place...

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

Here, the song fizzed out like a radio signal, then you got another bit of it...

All shall fade..

All shall...

...Fade...

~ominous time skip~

You, Blue-Eyes, and a team of Elvish warriors like the ones who'd helped you escape the dogs and orcs set out at dawn, which was way too early for someone used to getting up at noon most of the time. All the Elves showed off their glowy perfect selves by leaping gracefully to pebble to pebble like the regal shits they were, including Blue-Eyes.

Actually, scratch that. Blue-Eyes was the fucking king of being a show-off.

They moved fast, and you were surprisingly able to keep up with them. Not one of the Elves wanted to speak to you; they seemed to consider you an abomination.

You kinda seen what they were getting at, though. You were still in your bright white, blue, and black sci-fi Elf outfit from yesterday, complete with the latex ears and bright blue faux-hawk, which had become much less faux-hawk-y after sleep. You were covered in dried blood, dirt, and parts of your outfit were ripped. You'd tried to clean up as best as you could when you were woken up by using the water from the cup you'd been given to scrub your face and arms with the stunningly clean sheets on your cot.

In other words, you stuck out like a bright blue flower in a field of dark grass. You didn't know the way back to the river, so most of the Elves surrounded you discreetly while Blue-Eyes took the lead. Every one of them had a bow or sword or knife out and ready, so one wrong sniff and you were dead.

You traveled for about an hour before anyone spoke. It was Blue-Eyes, to your surprise. "Why is your hair blue?"

"Huh?" Of all possible questions, that one hadn't been expected. Though, that was kind of dumb of you, to just assume they wouldn't eventually wonder if everybody from your world had crazy hair colors.

"Your hair," Blue-Eyes specified, sounding condescending, like his hair was much better than yours because it was long and perfect and almost white. "Why is it blue?"

"Oh," You cleared your throat. "It's dye. My real color is [h/c]. Lots of people do it where I come from. You can dye it a natural color, or an unnatural color, like so. Some keep their natural color and just add streaks that aren't their natural colors. Some dye their full hair, like me, for the sole purpose of cosplay--uh, dressing up as made-up characters for events--and others dye it just for fun. Or to stand out, I guess. But I wouldn't advise it. It ruins your hair. I just don't care, though."

"Why would anyone want to do that?" One Elf asked in horror, then sneered at you. "I suppose those of your world simply do not appreciate the naturalities of the body."

You shrugged. You should see the LGTBQ+ community... But you didn't feel like explaining any of that to these people right now. Especially when they obviously looked down on stuff like that.

"And what character are you meant to be?" Blue-Eyes asked in a challenging tone.

You flushed. "... A sci-fi Elf."

"...Sci-Fi?" A different Elf asked. "What is that?"

"Science fiction," You specified. "Basically, I'm supposed to be an Elf from another planet. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Is that why you have pointed ears?" Blue-Eyes questioned, and you nodded.

"Yeah. They're latex-- a kind of rubber. Wait, do you even have rubber here?" You waved a hand. "Nevermind. They can come off pretty easily, though. Speaking of which, I'd better take them off before they cause damage..." You reached up to one of your ears, despite the looks the Elves gave you.

Blue-Eyes stopped for a minute, halting the whole group. He looked at you like you were crazy. "Whyever would you put something on your body that could cause damage?"

You blinked. "That is a very good question, Blue-Eyes, and one I don't exactly have an answer for. Almost everybody does it at some point." You felt for the flap of latex, but you couldn't find it. Hell, you couldn't even find the edge of the prosthetic. "Oh shit..." You breathed.

"What is it?" Legolas huffed, and turned around impatiently.

Your eyes widened; you couldn't let them think you were panicking, but, well, you were, and shortly after, you did. "I-I can't get it off."

Blue-Eyes's brow furrowed. "Will it cause permanent damage if they are not removed?"

"Maybe? Yes? My skin goes red and itchy and starts to swell up if I touch latex for too long, so, I'm gonna go with a definitely on this one. Just keep walking. I should have them off by the time we get to the river."

But you didn't. There was no flap, no edge of the latex. If it weren't for the fact that you did put latex ears on, you wouldn't have known you had latex ears on. A suspicion grew in your core, so you grabbed hold of the pointed tip, and pinched down with your nails hard and fast. "Ow!"

Every Elf turned to look at you as you pulled your hand away. Some blood was on the tips of your fingers. "Why, in the name of the Valar, would you hurt yourself?" Legolas sighed like a parent lecturing a child, but you were staring at your fingertips in shock. Valar...

"I'm an Elf..."

"I beg your pardon?" Apparently the mere thought of being the same race as you was too much for Blue-Eyes to handle. It was fucking offensive.

"I'm an Elf!" You shouted, and snatched your hand to your chest. "The ears won't come off! They bled and hurt when I pinched them! I'm a damn Elf! When I fell through that portal, I was a normal human! Now I'm an Elf! I don't know whether I should be freaking out or excited!"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "It won't be permanent. Obviously, here you're an Elf. There, you're not. When we get you through the portal, you'll be a human again."

"But..." I don't want to be human... Yet, you were also trying desperately to get back to your family, on pain of death and loss of cool fantasy land. If only you'd wake up to learn you were in some kind of damn coma...

You waved your hands. "Ok. Alright, fine. Is this where you found me?"

Legolas gestured to a particular rock. "The exact spot. Do you think you could find your way from here?"

You smirked; you'd always been good at knowing your way. "Please. I was born with an innate sense of direction. Now how the fuck do we get over this damn river?"

Legolas grinned. "You're an eldar now, aren't you? See if you can get across it yourself." Eldar... That had to mean an Elf of some sort, right?

You stared him down for a second, hands on your hips. He smirked cockily back, pure smugness on his expression. "Ok. Sure. What's life without risk?"

So you took a deep breath, and headed for the opposite bank.

You and your siblings had this special hiking trail in a park, and on this trail was a creek slash pond area. Several of them. You'd always cross the creek carefully, each step placed just so, and quietly, too, so that you could see the frogs-- it was a frog hunt without actually killing said frogs. The exercise gave you all good balance and a know-how for shit not that rock.

But this river was much different than the creek back home. It was clear, and clean, and strong as fuck, so one wrong move and you'd be whooshed away, with Blue-Eyes giving Lord Fabulous the excuse of "Oh they died in the river tragically oops..."

The rocks were unstable. The river swelled over them every so often to make them slippery. Your rubber boots were less than zero help. But you were an Elf now, right? So that had to make you unfairly agile. You took another deep inhale, then took what you hoped was a graceful leaping step, only for you to slip and nearly bust your ass. Elvish powers have to be learned. Noted.

When you finally got to the other side of the bank, you were stiff, and your heart was pounding. Behind you, the Elves sneered and jeered and all kinds of other "eers". You whipped around, and flipped them off. They looked somewhere between shocked, offended, and terrified. You realized they might not know the symbolism of it, and might think you were cursing them. When they reached you, Blue-Eyes was the first to demand what that was all about. "What was that all about?!"

You panicked under pressure. "U-uh... I-it's a minor insult where I come from. Very minor. We use it frequently as a joke among close friends. A friendly insult. Yeah. Sorry. Won't happen again." He totally didn't believe you. So you quickly changed the subject. "O-oh, uh, this way!"

Scenery seen at night was harder to recognize during the day, and vise versa, but you knew you hadn't gone too far up the river when you came across some massive paw prints and scrape marks from where you'd skidded down the bank. Another bonus clue was the scrap of bright blue fabric, from your skirt/tunic thing, hanging precariously from a branch.

It took you the better part of an hour to find the tree you'd woken up at. "Okay, this it it."

"Are you certain?" Blue-Eyes asked you.

"Wait." You laid down, and yep, everything was the same, except in daylight. Legolas frowned at you as you stood, probably ashamed to even breathe the same air as you. "Yeah, this is it."

Blue-Eyes ordered something in Elvish, jerking his head. The Elves immediately set about making camp. "So, in your world, you fell from the highest branches of an oak, yes?"

"Yep, breaking several things in the process."

"And you lost consciousness after you hit the forest floor?"

"Yep."

Legolas hummed and looked up into the canopy. "Then by all means... The portal should be where you laid."

You glanced down at your feet before bouncing up and down a little. "Nope. Nothing."

Legolas huffed. "You may have to try climbing this tree and falling into this spot."

A deranged laugh escaped your throat, which you quickly stifled. "I'm sorry, but are you crazy? What if I die? We don't have the same healing stuff as you guys unless you can pay for it up front, and I'm very poor. So is all of my family. We can't afford that shit. So if I die, what's the point in going back?"

Legolas glared at you. "I didn't mean from very high. Just high enough to hopefully send you through, but not high enough to kill you. Your healers will mend broken bones, will they not?"

You scoffed dejectedly. "Yeah, but for a pretty hefty bill..." You threw your hands up. "Whatever. I'll die anyway if I don't try. Might as well." With Legolas watching you carefully to make sure you didn't try to jump from tree to tree, you started to climb.

Was it really only yesterday that you'd been having a fun, standard LARPing day with your family and [F/N]? The real world seemed like fantasy, now. This felt real. This felt like where you should be. But if your family weren't here, you wouldn't be able to enjoy it. You'd always feel as if you abandoned them. You wondered, did time pass differently? Did it go faster there, and slower here? Or was it the other way around? Would you find the portal, and return to the real world to find your family long gone and the year a thousand into the future? Then you'd wish you'd never left this place. Or would you find not a moment had passed, and to them, it was still the terrifying moment of not knowing if you were dead or alive, to find you unharmed? Would you then be able to convince them to fall through, even on the chance that the portal could only be used a handful of times, and if it did work, would a millenia had passed here? Even Blue-Eyes would've aged by that point, however slightly.

Once you'd reached a suitable height, you braced yourself against the trunk. "How's this?"

Legolas nodded. "Fine. Jump when you're ready.”

You took a minute... Ah... Better get this over with. One does not simply... Damn, what was that meme? "Ok, ready when you are."

Legolas stepped back, and waited; you hesitated, then jumped, and you felt deja vu as you barreled toward the ground, landing flat on your back. The impact knocked the wind out of you, and you felt a painful snap in your right ribcage. You kept your eyes closed; you heard nothing aside from the birds in the trees. You hoped, then hoped some more, expecting at any moment to hear the frantic footfalls of your family rushing to help you...

"Well, I see I was entirely wrong on the matter," Blue-Eyes stated simply, and you frowned. Fuck...

"Ya think? I'm still seeing priss-ass Elves in a goddamn forest that isn't the one I fell in. Fuck you, Blue-Eyes, for having me break a rib for no good damned reason." You glared at him as you tried to sit up, barely making it halfway before Legolas helped you, albeit roughly.

"Watch your tongue," Blue-Eyes snapped. "If it were not for us, you would be dead."

You pursed your lips. "You're gonna kill me anyway just for breathing on your trees, so why didn't you just let me die?"

For a second, Legolas seemed to feel pity for you. "I am sorry. Truly, I am. Perhaps if we fail to locate your way home, I could convince my father to refrain from executing you."

You huffed, wincing as the action hurt your broken-on-some-level ribs. "Why? So I can live the rest of my suddenly immortal life in a dark cell, underground, just for existing? Hell no. I'd rather die."

"Perhaps you could have another use," Legolas offered, and you shook your head.

"Never in my life have I been considered useful." You eyed Blue-Eyes disdainfully. "Ever. By anybody. If you can find a place for somebody like me that doesn't involve imprisonment, fine. But I won't be able to live with myself if I can't find a way back to Earth. I need my family. They're all I ever had."

Legolas knelt beside you. "You... Seem to be very close with them. You love this..." He looked off into the trees, searching for the word. "...Life, so much, and have wished for it for so long, but you'd give it up, to be with them in a world that does not want you... You have a brave heart."

You took the compliment. "Thanks. Now let's find this damn portal, shall we? I've got a couple more ribs to bust."

Tag List: @tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​

@taurlel​ @hauntedsiriel​

[thebeautyofdisorder]

The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapter 5

A/N: Okay...this took far longer than I expected it to, but to be fair for five minutes I was almost convinced to take a break and leave it at four. Five minutes is giving it too much credit, I think. But, either way - here it is. I hope you enjoy it. I labored over the last bits of this for far too long wondering if I was getting too ahead of myself, but... what the hell, right? Please reassure me with comments.

Rating: still T, for blood, language, and a bit of dubious consent/alluding to adult concepts 

Pairing: Dracula & Zoe/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapters 1 & 2 Here - Chapter 3 Here - Chapter 4 Here

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE -

Chapter 5

It was another two weeks before Zoe saw sunlight again. Not out of any kind of vampiric repulsion, but purely due to the epic workload she had set up for herself. She knew as much as she hated to admit it that Dracula was right. She had a limited amount of time to make good on her intentions and an expanse of scientific ground to break, more than she had ever envisioned for herself. 

Worse, there was a level of occult knowledge that she needed to reacquaint herself with since she’d tossed it in the bin twenty years prior, but Agatha was at least useful in that respect. Granted 1897 was not the most ideal cut off, but it gave her a decent groundwork. What wasn’t useful was the obvious glee that overcame her in the presence of the monster Zoe had been taught from an early age was basically the devil incarnate. And it’s not as though the nun even disagreed with the assessment, save her belief in the literal devil causing a bit of a contextual conflict. 

Zoe had always took pride in her stoicism, but Agatha was quite the opposite. She’d always found some sort of wicked, curious amusement in everything, even in the face of death – and vampires, apparently. Not that she didn’t have a very personal reason to be interested now. No, ignoring Dracula was no longer an option. Understanding him was the only way to fully understand herself, and whoever else the Count was no doubt soon to add to the ranks of the undead. 

As much as she detested to admit it, she could feel herself changing – slowly, but surely evolving past the limits of what it had always meant to be human. Everything was different – the way things smelled, looked, tasted, felt… there wasn’t a sense unaffected. And with it had grown subtle, gnawing hunger that she was determined to repress – or, currently, find a safe way to sate. And she was close. So close. But without a few more key bits of information from the beast himself, there was no way to be sure.

She had let him be for now, since she knew they at least had time in that regard. Dracula was many things, but a total idiot was not one of them, and no doubt he’d taken notice of the pattern just as easily as she did. The longer he spent with each victim, the more ideal the transformation after death. Instant kills were a 50/50 shot at best. If he was on the lookout for another ‘bride’ – even if he’d found one, there was no way he’d waste his newly renewed hope by getting overzealous. Zoe alone seemed to be the outlier of that unspoken rule, but ingesting so much of his blood (and also being on death’s doorstep already) seemed to have been the push.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know where he was. In fact, she found that if she let herself focus on him too long she couldn’t seem to avoid getting a sort of passing ‘update’ of his current actions – whether she wanted it or not. Just the person she wanted to be mentally connected to. Though whatever the connection was, it seemed to be a two-way street as opposed to the sort of controlling thrall that he had over certain others. At least she hadn’t caught herself doodling ‘Dracula is God’ in the corner of any of her notepads, thank fuck for that.

After a couple of weeks, however, the peaks at his consciousness were becoming more involuntary – either that, or he’d found out a way to push them at her deliberately, which wouldn’t surprise her in the least. An array of miscellaneous throats, mostly – with the occasional face to go with them even, but a strangely short order of corpses. Not too surprising given his renewed intent to procreate, but she expected the body count would be still reasonably…abundant. 

Despite knowing she should be relieved, Zoe felt a creeping sense of dread. How many people did he intend to turn? To keep up with his usual appetite he’d have to be keeping a menagerie of donors. Willing donors. For a brief, mindless moment she wondered to herself how the hell he was managing that. Her own voice (more or less) answered in a clipped mocking laugh, echoing out loud in the silence of her office. 

Tall, dark, handsome, well dressed, charming – in a snakey sort of way with no particular sexual preference, in a city full of jaded, power starved people longing to escape from their problems, with a cynical attitude toward life and death?  Christ’s sake, they were in the age of the opioid epidemic and the man was walking heroin. Literally. The world was doomed. 

Ready or not, it was about time she stopped making things so easy for him, Zoe decided, packing up her latest round of experiments and locking them away. Just because she couldn’t kill Dracula (yet) didn’t mean that she couldn’t distract him - a thought that she was well aware originated more with Agatha than herself, but the scientist in her was still fully willing to embrace. 

The methodology was...negotiable, they'd settled on vaguely as Zoe found her way quickly home to her flat. 

Once she decided to figure out his location, it didn't surprise her that the count was 'on the prowl', but she did have to roll her eyes at his choice of venue. Apparently he was going to make following him inconvenient. It definitely wasn't a club she could just waltz into dressed like a science professor and blend in. 

But this is good, he won't be expecting your intrusion. 

...Or he's expecting me to show up in a lab coat and give myself away Zoe countered internally, becoming arguably far too comfortable with disagreeing with her own inner voice as she yanked out a little black dress from the back of her wardrobe and tossed it on her bed, along with her far more lived in leather jacket.

Fine. This was fine. If she could keep randy 20-year-olds focused on studying science instead of each other on a regular basis, she could certainly handle putting a wrench in a 500 year old man-child’s seduction techniques. 

------

Of the numerous intrigues and conundrums the 21st century had wrought upon the Count, the notion of the vampire being not only a cultural topic of admiration but practically a fetish was one he had never seen coming. He was actually embarrassed it had taken him this long to fully comprehend and, in turn, utilize this phenomenon. It was true none of his earlier victims had really been surprised when his teeth sank into their necks, but the full scope of it had never really ‘dawned’ on him until baring his fangs had inspired one too many bouts of earnest excitement. It was frankly hilarious, not to mention convenient, though truth be told he was beginning to miss the charms of inspiring unholy terror. 

Not that the initial euphoria didn’t quickly evolve into proper panic once the reality of exsanguination occurred to them – if he allowed it to. He sometimes did, particularly since he was losing patience with being told it wasn’t Halloween just before ripping into their throats. He opted not to keep those idiots around, more often than not. The undead didn’t need any more denial in its ranks - Zoe was already proving to be so far immune to his influence in every way, he did not need any more deviance. 

It luckily hadn’t taken Dracula long to finally hit the smorgasbord: an entire dark room, filled almost entirely with dozens of willing, believing victims. So many nocturnal souls, full of wickedness and naïve delight at the mere thought of a creature such as him walking amongst them. Many of them even liked to already call themselves vampires, some in jest and others in actual earnest - artificial fangs and all! It was downright adorable. Now why should he, of all people, ruin their fun? 

It never took very long to capture someone’s attention, and that particular night was no different save for the fact that his potential prey had suddenly turned their attention away from him and was having some unknown words whispered in their ear by a woman he vaguely recognized as the bartender. 

“I…um, I need to go. Emergency,” The young woman stated in the broken persistence easily identified as that of an unpracticed liar, and she dissolved hurriedly back into the darkness from whence she came. 

Dracula’s head tilted briefly in confusion, but then in realization he sighed as his eyes scanned and locked in a glare on the slender figure at the far end of the bar who was smirking at him. 

Striding over with exaggerated reluctance, he leant against the surface at her side.

“What did you tell her?” 

Zoe shrugged, still clearly pleased with herself. “Just enough to make you sound revolting. Not exactly hard to do.”

“No one likes a cock block, Dr. Helsing,” he accused with a raise of his brows, looking down at her.

Zoe chuckled aloud. “I think we both know your cock isn’t something to worry about,” she replied, eyes rolling at his apparent need to show off his modern vocabulary. 

“Ouch,” he rumbled, amusement still glinting in the black pools of his eyes despite his attempt at a pout. “Should I be offended?” 

“Is there even anything to be offended about?” She found herself asking, and briefly cursed Agatha’s ever-greedy curiosity.

The Count’s brows shot upwards, in either genuine surprise or a good ploy of it as he turned his body to face hers. “Are you asking if I’m, as you say, ‘fully functional and anatomically correct’? Oh dear, now I am offended.” It didn’t falter his smile.

“I just assumed you saw everyone as little more than happy meals with legs,” she said in, granted, unnecessary explanation for the question. Never in anything she’d seen or heard of his attempts to seduce or charm did he seem to be in pursuit of anything but dinner.

“I’m a man of many appetites, some just supersede others,” he replied simply, at first, though quickly amended. “And certain aspects of being a vampire does make it difficult to find a partner who will remain conscious or even survive the experience through to its conclusion.”

“Sounds like a self-control problem to me, though...I wouldn’t have thought the killing part to be an issue for you,” she uttered in return, more of Agatha’s intrigue popping out without her consent. 

His eyes narrowed knowingly, as they always seemed to do when he sensed Zoe’s words were not always her own, though it didn’t stop him from responding.

“I may be undead, but I am no necrophile. I told you I like the lively ones, and I meant that. Even if the vast majority are ‘happy meals with legs’ that’s no reason to ignore what’s between them. Where do you think all that blood flows to when you’re aroused?”

“Sorry I asked,” Zoe clipped, eyes rolling again in sheer avoidance of his probing gaze.

“Maybe I ought to try some restraints,” he mused thoughtfully, ignoring her comment entirely and refocusing on his current ‘conundrum’ she’d been so kind as to bring to the forefront of his thoughts. “I fed from an interesting little dominatrix the other night…”

“For them or for you?” Zoe found herself snarking back, beginning to wonder if it was a better or worse choice to let a nun have this conversation in her place.

“Oh, them. It would keep them conscious a bit at least. When your saliva is a sedative, over-eagerness just breeds trouble. I don’t even know if they make anything strong enough to restrain me. Silver…if you believe the stories, though I’ve never tried it.” His brow quirked upward lasciviously at her, an obvious lure. “Perhaps you would do the honors?” 

“Perhaps I should try to stake you, just to be sure. You never know, I could get lucky.”

“Now, now. We both know you’re not going to do that. Come on Agatha – don’t think I don’t know when it’s you, you always were a curious cat - if things went your way I’d still be locked in a box to prod at for the rest of eternity, all for the sake of extending your morbid curiosity. I was extending a courtesy with that offer. It could be the closest you’d get to satisfaction in that regard. Or any regard," he drawled, punctuating his already not-so-subtle meaning by moving in closer still, deliberately intrusive. He lived to infuriate. 

Agatha’s first instinct was to aim a slap at his absurdly smug face just for the audacity, regardless of Zoe’s opposing instinct to ignore him entirely. Apparently the nun won out, though the speed in which her hands zoomed forward was an impossible thing, and as Zoe feared, a grave mistake. The older vampire caught her hand in his massive fist before it came within an inch of his flesh, with a look of pure satisfaction. In the same gesture, his other hand shot to grasp her throat and by the force of the movement alone urged her back from the bar and into the shadows just beyond it. The music was melancholic, but loud and just chaotic enough to drown out the faint growl erupting from his throat. 

“Ooh. Look at you go. I think my blood really did do the trick, didn’t it? None of my brides, before or after their full transformation, could even come close to my speed. And you’re already halfway there. Not to mention completely immune to my power of suggestion yet still able to locate me, it seems – very, very irritating, but impressive. Any fangs yet?” 

Struggling briefly in his grasp, she bared her teeth at him spitefully, showing off her teeth’s lack of points. 

“Aw. What a pity,” he sighed, letting go of her hand, but kept her neck in his grip – not squeezing, but present and unmoving, nonetheless lest she try to attack him again.

 “Still trying to fight it, aren’t you? Zoe’s just a stubborn thing, she wants to prove me wrong. But you…you are trying to protect her. From me…herself, I don’t know, but it’s only going to end up driving her mad.” 

“It’s completely feasible to resist the blood lust,” Agatha persisted, meeting his steely gaze with her own. “She’s figured out how it works, what the vampiric body needs to function.” 

“And I suppose you’d be the expert at resisting lusts, wouldn’t you?” His fingers tightened minutely around the long column of her throat, and his words were a harsh whisper that’s effect on her body mocked the very virtue it was pretending to praise. 

“For once, Dracula, stop flattering yourself,” she spat, turning her head as much to look away from him – at anything but him - as his hold would allow.

“I never flatter myself. You stop elevating yourself. You’re not a nun anymore, you’re just another wayward soul. You’ve died twice trying to rid the world of me and we’re both still here. Take a hint.” 

“Perhaps I’m still here to stop you,” she suggested, finally turning back to face him with a challenging lift of her brow.

The Count met her challenge with a look of utter acceptance , his face leaning down to hers in what to anyone else would be a clear threat - and to anyone else, it was exactly that. To a normal, non corrupt human his kiss meant instant submission, the predator incapacitating his prey. 

“Then, by all means, stop me.” 

She stood stiff in the face of his intimate approach, for a moment able to ignore any further context and simply prod at him. 

"Your delusions won't work on me anymore," Agatha reminded him blandly, pushing breath out with each word just because she could. 

This gave him pause for all of a moment, but it was seemingly only to observe her stubborn face with faint amusement. 

"Good," he uttered against her lips with mocking simplicity, but before she could take another breath he was kissing her hard and to his utter relief, didn't get limp, clouded acceptance in response. 

She let out a frustrated growl of her own in protest, more human than beast, though her attempt at clamping her lips closed in protest came a moment too late. He'd captured her lower lip between his own and she felt the sharp scrape of his canines as he pulled, still prominent without the animalistic haze of hunger. 

Her initial will to resist buckled to make way instead for an aggressive refusal to be dominated - whether those forces had names or were shared equally between the Van Helsing women, he couldn't say, but instead of allowing him to ravage her mouth unopposed, or even to attempt to fight or flee as the Count half expected, she'd responded with equal fervor - out of lust or spite or both. Her blunt teeth bit down hard where his had only nipped and her previously limp hand found its way to the back of his head and anchored itself in his locks to counter the tightening of his grip on her neck. 

The snarl that reverberated from his throat and into her mouth was every bit as bestial as hers was human, and his grip tightened dangerously just before forcing her backwards and away from him like he was embracing an open flame. She barely caught herself before crashing into a wall, but still looked on with unadulterated satisfaction as Dracula looked twice as shaken as she did in the face of his first kiss in 500 years that didn't end in immediate surrender. Men - alive or dead - were all the same. 

After a moment, he caught himself, letting out a wicked chuckle in the face of her smirk. "We'll make a monster of you yet, Van Helsing," he assured her raggedly, bluster gradually returning to his stance and the set of his jaw as he watched her.

Zoe - and fully Zoe at that moment righted herself from where she leaned against the wall, adjusting her jacket, the satisfied look still in her eyes. 

"Happy hunting, Count Dracula. Just don't expect me to make it easy for you."

And without looking at him again, she walked passed where he stood and headed in a leisurely stroll towards the exit, forcing her heart rate back to its normal deathly calm. 

----

I’m not even sure what to say to this other than either I’m sorry or your welcome. I’m just going to tag everyone who’s nerding has inspired me to continue, regardless if you’ve showed any interest in reading or not. If you want to be tagged, let me know

Tag List: @charlesdances @bellamortislife @carydorse @break-free-killer-queen @imagineandimagine @my-fanfic-library @punk-courtesan @ohveda @wannabebloodsucker @hoefordarkness @mymagicsuitcase @crazytxgradstudent @itendedbadly @theplumsoldier @gatissed @allfandoms-writings @littlemessyjessi @vampiregirl1797 @desperatefrenchwriter @iloveclaesbang @ss9slb @dreamerkim @mephdcosplay @violetmarkey @alhoyin @thozaarmitage @girlonfireice@cipherwheeldecoder @crowley-needs-a-hug @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @iloveclaesbang

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch34: Paper

Summary: Following the events in Siberia, Katie, Steve Wanda and Sam all struggle to adapt to a life on the run. The Roger’s first wedding anniversary isn’t spent the way Steve would have hoped, but as Fall arrives, he finallly gets the call he’d been waiting for from Wakanda.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s PLEASE!!!!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist 

August 2016

Following advice from Coulson, the group of Outlaws decided to lay low for a few months until interest died down, although Katie and Sam were pretty amused to find out that there had been protests across the US after they had been declared Enemies of the State, especially when someone (no names were mentioned, but Katie was laying odds on it being Murdock to help Clint and Scott’s very publicised hearings) had leaked to the press details of what had taken place in Siberia, and how they had been treated by the Government. To her further delight, Ross was facing a public enquiry as well with regards to their unlawful arrests. 

All in all, that part of it had worked out pretty well. And whilst she knew he would get away with it, the thought of him being pissed off filled her with a very smug sense of satisfaction.

The place they were living was called the Isle of Lewis, approximately 12 miles away from Stornoway in the northern part of the inter-connected Islands in the Hebrides and the only connection to main land Scotland was either a 2 hour ferry or a flight, so with that respect it was absolutely perfect. 

The old farm house was secluded, the land surrounding it sprawling for miles, shielded by a large thicket of trees on three sides and a cliff edge which dropped down to a small beach on the other. There was no reason for anyone to visit or pass their house, bar the odd dog walker they saw treading the cliff footpath. They were always careful when seeing people to greet them politely so they didn’t attract attention by being aloof. 

The first rule of going on the run? Don’t run.

At first they strayed into town for supply runs only and Katie was surprised just how well she adapted to living with two additional people. At first she had been worried, Steve and her having had their own space for such a long time. Even in the tower and compound their living quarters had been fairly big and they could hide away from everyone if they wanted to. But in their safe house they didn’t have that luxury. Never the less it was big enough so that they could all have their own rooms. There was one bathroom upstairs and a smaller cloakroom downstairs, and so far there had been no squabbles about who used it when. 

Their large sitting area had been kitted out with a state of the art entertainment system, they had a decent sized farmhouse style Kitchen-Diner, and a smaller sitting room off the back of the kitchen with a smaller TV, a 2 seat couch and a piano much to Katie’s delight. Practical things like bills etc were coming out of an account belonging to Mr and Mrs O’Rourke, one of Katie and Steve’s covers- the name being Steve’s Mother’s maiden name. Coulson had advised them it was the least suspicious thing to do and would attract less attention than trying to pay cash at a bank. They’d also acquired a ten year old free-lander, bought for cash of course, and it was subtle enough to blend in as a lot of the locals seemed to drive them too.

But whilst everything seemed to go according to plan and was, when all was said and done, fairly easy, Steve was struggling. He was antsy from the lack of action, and from a purely carnal point of view was missing the fact he could slam his wife up against any surface he wanted to and not worry about them being caught. He hated the fact their room was right next to Sam’s, concerned with the amount of noise they might make after Bucky’s jibe about the hotel rooms and it wasn’t long before Katie noticed a dramatic shift in his attitude towards her. He became less tactile, less handsy and their love life dwindled somewhat, leaving her slightly cranky to say the least but she manged to keep a lid on it for the most part.

Unlike Steve. 

The morning of their first wedding anniversary, Katie woke alone, her husband was no-where to be found. After laying, looking at his empty side of the bed for a moment she blinked back tears of frustration and headed for a before she wandered downstairs into the kitchen to be greeted by Sam and Wanda both sat at the table.

"Steve gone for a run?" she asked, after greeting them both good morning.

"Yeah, I offered to go but he wanted to go on his own," Sam said, shrugging “Didn’t want to keep pace."

Katie poured herself a coffee and sat down, taking a deep breath. “Is everything ok?” Wanda asked, looking at Katie “You’ve both been a little tetchy recently. Granted you haven’t been as bad as him, but...” “Yeah, you guys not err…getting enough?” Sam quipped, earning himself a slap round the back of the head from Wanda, the younger woman giving him a glare.

“Fuck off Wilson.” Katie rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying…”

“Well don’t” she sighed, taking a sip of her coffee then swiping a piece of toast off his plate.

“Look, we know it’s your anniversary today.” Wanda looked at her. “You got anything planned?” “Not really possible.” Katie shrugged “Thought I might try and convince him to take a walk later, just the two of us but…”

“Well,” Sam said, looking at Wanda then over to Katie, “we thought we might head into town for the evening, hit a few bars. Give you two a bit of space.” Wanda nodded, eagerly. “You have to do something, even if it’s just cooking a meal and having a bit of you time.” Katie pondered this for a moment and found herself smiling “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I can go to the store later.” her spirits raised a a little as she started planning a menu out in her head.

She was cut off when the security system clicked and Steve walked through the door of the kitchen that led to the grounds, the door shutting behind him, the keypad beeping as he typed in the code to lock everything down.

“Hey.” she looked up at him. His face was tired but nevertheless he smiled and dropped a soft kiss to her head.

“Happy Anniversary.” he whispered, and she smiled up at him, understanding his gesture to also be an apology of sorts.

“Back at ya Soldier.” she swallowed back her tears, “You want breakfast?” “I’ll shower first.” he nodded to Sam and Wanda before pausing, and stealing the last piece of toast off Sam’s plate.

“Not cool man!” Sam groaned, “That was the last of the bread.” Steve simply shrugged at Sam’s protest, before he headed down the hallway to go and freshen up. Katie watched him go before she turned to Wanda.

“Fancy coming with me?”

She nodded “Sure.”

***** When Steve came back to the kitchen half an hour or so later he was surprised to find the girls gone.

“Store.” Sam supplied as he was flicking through the television in the lounge, settling on a British Chat Show called ‘This Morning’, easy, daytime TV that didn’t require thinking about. Steve made himself a coffee before he sat down next to his friend with a sigh.

“So, first anniversary.” Sam spoke, not looking at him. “Be this isn’t what you thought you’d be doing?” “You can say that again.” Steve mumbled. Just twelve months ago at that exact time he’d been bustling about his apartment on the compound in a fluster getting ready. It had, without a doubt, been the happiest day of his life.  But this was not how he wanted their first wedding anniversary to go down. He’d always planned a nice getaway, somewhere warm, but that wasn’t an option. Certainly not yet. Even though he doubted they would be recognised, his stubble was now well on it’s way to being a fairly decent beard, he didn’t want to risk it by drawing attention to them being in a busy, touristy place. 

“Me and Wanda are clearing out later.” Sam’s eyes remained on the TV, “Give you two a bit of alone time.” “You don’t have to-“ Steve started but Sam cut him off with a snort.

“You need to make some lovin’ on your girl.” he turned to the soldier who felt a flush rise up his neck. “Because we know you ain’t been getting enough, you’ve been a bad tempered bastard for weeks.”

“I have not.” Steve shot back indignantly, causing Sam to raise his eyebrows. Steve let out a sigh, knowing he was well and truly busted.

“Look, if you two ever need some space, all ya gotta do is ask.” Sam said sincerely, looking at Steve. “Couples need that time, hell my folks used to ship us off to uncles and aunties once a week just to get some time to themselves. This is bound to be stressful for you both.”

“I doubt it’s easy on you two either.” Steve looked at him and Sam shrugged, before he smirked.

“Difference is if I wanna get laid I’ll just head into town. There’ll be some sap out there that likes George Fletcher the Geologist from Georgia…”

“You’re terrible you know that?” Steve smirked at him over his coffee mug.

Sam simply smiled back. “You get her anything?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded “We agreed months ago on something paper themed, you know, on account of the anniversary being paper. I had planned to get the lyrics to our wedding song printed and do a sketch of one of our photos to hang up in our apartment but that kinda went out of the window.” “So what did you get?” “A book.” Steve let out a breath “I spotted it in the second hand shop in town last time we did a flyer. It’s a leather-bound complete works of Shakespeare but it was published the year she was born and has all these handwritten notes in it from someone. Just the kind of thing she’ll like. And a couple of albums of sheet music, I know she’s missing hers back home and she hasn’t been playing the piano as much as I thought she would…”

“Cool man, she’ll love it.” Sam smiled encouragingly “I hope so Sam.” he sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions, scratching at his chin “I hope so.” *****

True to their word Sam and Wanda headed out just after 5pm, leaving Katie and Steve alone. As Katie bustled around in the kitchen, Steve couldn’t help but watch his wife as she cooked, a small smile playing on his face. And then, realising they were truly alone for the first time in months he placed his beer down on the side and crossed the small room, wrapping his arms around her from behind and dropping his chin to her shoulder, nuzzling at her neck. She smiled at his display of affection, something she’d been aching for and as the scruff of his almost-beard scratched at her skin she gave a soft sigh.

“You ok?” she asked.

“Yeah.” he said, before he shook his head “No. Not really. Doll, I’m sorry.” “What for?” she frowned, turning in his arms so she could look at him.

“For being so distant. You don’t deserve this.” he sighed. “After the accords, when the dust settled we were supposed to have a normal life, a simple life. I can’t even give you that."

"It's a good thing you're cute because at times you’re incredibly stupid," she said making him breathe a laugh. “Steve we’re here, together after everything. I made that vow, until death do us part and I mean it. I love you" she finished simply, shrugging. “So stop wasting time worrying about it. You're stuck with me, Captain Badass."

Steve looked back at her, before he gave her a small smile.

"Now I know this probably isn’t what either of us had in mind, but we’re on our own, I’ve got a pretty large batch of Mac and Cheese, and an apple pie in the oven, a steak ready to grill so let’s just try and enjoy it?”

“You made mac and cheese?” his face creased into a boyish smile “And apple pie? What happened to not baking pies unless it’s Autumn?” “Well it’s September tomorrow.” she shrugged “and I thought it might cheer you up.”

"Sorry." He half grimaced, half smiled apologetically back at her. "I know I haven't been the easiest to be around lately ─"

"Stop apologizing." she interrupted him again.

He studied her for a second before he leaned down to give her a soft kiss. “I love you.” “I know.” she said, her hands sliding down to his chest and she gave him a quick pat before playfully shoving him away “Now scoot, unless you want me to burn dinner. Go set the table.” Knowing better than to refuse he did as he was told and it wasn’t long before they were settled down and eating. They talked about everything and anything, drank wine, and to the pair of them they could almost have been sat in their dining room at the compound. They laughed, they joked, they poked fun at one another. It felt normal. Once they had finished eating they cleared their dishes, Steve grabbed another bottle of wine and they headed to the couch to find something to watch on TV.

“I got you something.” Katie said when Steve dropped the wine onto the coffee table and she gestured to the small giftbag by the bottle.

“Oh, me too. Hang on.” he said, bounding up the stairs to retrieve his gift. As he returned, she eyed the 2 wrapped items with playful suspicion as he handed them to her. One was really heavy. She passed the gift bag containing his to him and he peeked inside, and they shared a childish grin with one another before they set about opening their presents.

“Oh Steve.” she breathed out as she gently ran her hands over the leather of the anthology he had bought her. Flicking through she spotted all the notes that someone had written in the margins. They consisted of opinions on the plays, themes, characterisation plots, all the type of thing she had studied at University and she found it fascinating to read other people’s interpretations.

“I thought you might like it.” he smiled as she beamed at him, before she let out another sigh of happiness when she opened the two sheet music books as they would give her something else to play other than the stuff she knew from memory.

And her gift to Steve was equally as thoughtful. He positively beamed when he opened the new blank sketch books, pencils, wax crayons and charcoals. All of his art supplies had been left behind and he’d been dying to get some more.

“Well, the sketchbook is paper.” she explained softly “And I know it relaxes you to draw.” “Doll, it’s perfect” he said, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”

“So, what film do you wanna watch?” She asked, moving for the remote but he had no intention of watching a film. Not now. He had other ideas. He gently grabbed her wrist and she looked at him.

“Right now Mrs Rogers,” he said, turning to her and her eyes widened when she saw his pupils dilating with unmistakable desire, “I’d really like to carry you upstairs and take you to bed.”

Katie grinned “Well that can be arranged, but there’s something I wanna do first.”

He looked at her, puzzled for a moment but when she tapped on her phone and the opening sounds of ‘Only One in Colour’ sounded over the speakers he laughed and stood up, offering her his hand.

“May I have this dance?” he quipped, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Always.” she smiled, allowing him to pull her up.

They moved to the back of the couch where there was more room and he took her in a hold and they simply stayed close, swaying to the music, both of them thinking back to their first dance as a married couple twelve months ago. Katie pressed her cheek to Steve’s chest and he in turn rest his chin on the top of her head, revelling in her closeness. He heard her let out a soft sigh, but this one was contentment and he gently moved to look down at her. For a moment Katie felt her breath catch, he was looking at her with nothing but unadulterated desire and love, the same way he had on their wedding day and before the song had even finished he’d captured her lips in a soft kiss, his hands moving to cradle her face. Hers fisted in his white T-shirt and it wasn’t long before the kiss had deepened causing a moan to catch in Steve’s throat. Without a word he pulled back and scooped her up in his arms, bridal style, causing her to giggle, a sound he would never tire of, and quick as a flash he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. He set her on her feet but before he had time to do anything she’d shoved him backwards, catching him off guard slightly causing him to sit down harshly on the bed and he let out a smirk as she straddled him before she kissed him again and he was happy to reciprocate exactly how he knew she liked, firm and gentle, passionate and caring all at once. Katie gently bit his lower lip drawing another groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his hands gently gipping her hip.

“You know,” she said drawing back slightly to cup his face in her fingertips “I really do like kissing you with this.” she traced her hand across the short beard on his face. She also liked looking at him with it too because, coupled with the fact his hair was also getting slightly longer too it gave him a rugged, harder, rougher look taking him farther and farther away from the Blue-Eyed all American boy day by day.

"I’m getting used to it.” he murmured pressing a soft kiss to her mouth before his head dropped, small kisses trailing up the length of her neck, that precious stubble creating an amazing contrast to the softness of his mouth.

“Yeah, me too.” she said, her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips. He smiled slightly, happy to oblige and just take his god damned time loving his wife. Eventually his lips made their way up her jaw and then she sat up slightly, grasping at the hem of his T-shirt. He moved to allow her to take it off and then his fingers made short work of the sleeveless button down she had been wearing, shrugging it down over her shoulders before he peppered more kisses across her collar bone and down her sternum as he reached round to undo her bra. Gently, he lay her flat down on the bed, taking a nipple in his mouth, this time drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily upwards at the sensations spiking through her body.

God it really had been far too long since he’d lavished attention on her like this and Steve made a mental not to tell Sam and Wanda to ‘take a walk’ a lot more often. It was almost two months now since they had last been intimate and, his body was aching for her, desperate to feel her and from the noises she was making she felt the same. His lips made their way down, nose and beard skimming along the waistband of her jeans before he undid them, sliding them down with her underwear as he shed his own too before he crawled back over her.

Katie pushed on his shoulders slightly so she could roll him over and placed herself on top of him, brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other drawing a gentle moan from his lips, hands flexing on her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down him, her hands falling to his chest and once he was fully seated in her, she began to work him gently. His hands slid up into her hair, as she leaned forward to kiss him and he raised his hips slightly and she whimpered, pushing down harder against him as his hands gently kneaded at her breasts. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every push she made, his eyes grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her down, grinding further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands round her back, pulling her closer to him as he bent to kiss her neck, biting at that spot whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Katie rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him, and he let out a groan of his own.

“Good?” he whispered, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, as he pulled her to him harder, hands back on her hips as his rutting picked up speed.

“Stevie…” she mumbled, her eyes locking onto his as her hands slid up his back and fisted into his hair. A few more pushes later and they were both done for, her name escaping from his lips as her walls collapsed completely, and she let out a soft cry as she fell forward burying her face in his neck. He was close behind, letting out a gentle moan, his beard rustling against her ear as he jerked underneath her, clinging onto her as if he never wanted to let her go. And at that moment he didn’t.

After a minute or so he leaned back, his breathing deep as he brushed her hair back off her face before sliding his nose against hers. “Happy Anniversary kitten.” *******

Steve thought the fall in New York was gorgeous but that was nothing to what it was like where they were. He was feeling a lot more positive about things as well, as post their anniversary, he and Katie had made a pact that they would do  something alone together at least once a week, be it a walk along the cliff the beach, or straying into town to one of the local restaurants. His hair and beard now rendered him pretty much unrecognisable now and they never got a second glance at all. 

Being on the run shouldn’t have been this easy, and they were constantly on edge, waiting for the time they had to split and run, but whilst they could, they made the most of it. 

Steve’s favourite ‘date’, if you could them that, was the walk they took in the pitch black to see the Northern Lights late one evening. Katie had been utterly captivated by the beauty of the Aurora Borealis and Steve had to admit, it was spectacular. Committing it to memory was easy, and a few days later Katie wasn’t surprised to find a perfect replica of them his sketch book.

Thanksgiving came, then Christmas, the four friends making it as festive as possible. They got a tree, shared gifts, enjoyed a Christmas Meal, and after several drinks each Steve wheeled the piano into the living room where Sam and Katie gave a rousing rendition of ‘Fairy Tale of New York’ along with a few other Christmas songs. It was different, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable.

And then, in March 2017, they had a call from T’Challa. They were ready to bring Bucky out of cryo. Katie and Steve instantly set about making the arrangements to go to Wakanda, but it turns out they weren’t the only ones planning on taking a little trip…

“There’s something I wanted to discuss with you all.” Wanda said, the morning they were due to depart. “Please don't freak out, but I talked to Vision last night."

"What?" Katie’s voice was quiet as she merely looked back at the younger woman, her face passive.

Meanwhile, both Steve and Sam's eyebrows shot up in their foreheads.

"Hold on, what do you mean you talked to Vision?” Steve asked. “How? Where?"

"This is going to sound really weird, but I saw him in my dreams," Wanda carried on with her explanation.

"How do you know that wasn't just a dream?" Sam asked.

"Because it wasn't," Wanda shrugged "I don't know how to explain it, but I know it was him and I know it was real. I think we are connected somehow, because of the Mind Stone and because I was thinking about him before I went to sleep, it made some kind of telepathy possible.”

Steve pondered it for a second, thinking to himself how ridiculous that sounded until he realised they were talking about an enhanced human who had gained certain telepathic and telekinetic powers due to experimentation with the Mind Stone and an android that now carried within his synthetic, vibranium-mesh body said gem. 

When you put it like that it seemed fairly logical.

"Okay. What did you talk about?" Katie asked after a moment.

"Just stuff, how I was, how much we, you know, miss one another" Wanda bit her lip. "We talked about actually meeting in person in a few days."

"Okay, hold on," Sam said, furrowing his forehead and holding one of his hands up. "How do we know this is not a trap? Like, I don't know, Tony getting Vision to talk to you to get us back into the Raft?"

As soon as Sam said it Katie shook her head. Tony could sometimes be a jackass and he may have been hurt and mad at her and Steve, but she knew despite his stinging barb in Siberia, he wouldn’t want them all thrown in jail.

"He wouldn't do that," she said.

“How do you know?” Sam pressed.

“Because Tony has way better tech than us, and there's no accounting for what Vision can do with that Mind Stone.” Steve looked at him. This was something he had been pondering on for a while now too “If anyone can find us, it's them, yet we’re almost 10 months down the line now since Leipzig and so far, there's no sign of any one, so Tony’s either no longer working with Ross, or if he is, he's dragging his feet deliberately.”

"Exactly," Wanda nodded emphatically. "And Vision would never do anything to hurt me, not intentionally. I trust him with my life, but it's more than that."

Taking a deep breath, his mind made up, Steve turned to Wanda “You’re not a prisoner here Wanda. If you want to go then we can’t and we won’t stop you.”

“Do you want to go?” Katie looked at the younger woman who was wringing her hands together.

“I do but, well, I kinda feel like I’m fraternizing with the enemy.”

“He’s not the enemy. None of them are. Not Vision or Rhodey, Not Tony, none of them.” Steve ran his hand through his hair, sweeping the long strands back off his face. “We all wanted the same thing, to do good in this world but we disagreed on how best to make it happen. Doesn’t make us enemies.”

“But we’re on the run because…”

“This was always going to happen.” Katie cut her off, shaking her head “Ever since SHIELD collapsed and Fury stepped away there was a power vacuum. It was only a matter of time before the Government tried to step in to oversee us.”

“And let’s face it, I was always going to be considered a rogue threat the moment I refused to comply” Steve said, a wry smile on his face. “We all were.”

“Just be careful.” Katie looked at Wanda. “And whilst we’re away just make sure you check in once in a while? And the first sign of trouble, well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Well if Wanda’s being granted shore leave so to speak, I might take a bit of time too.” Sam chipped in as the idea came to him. “There’s an old RAF pal of mine, based in Bracknell near London I aint seen in a while. He’s cool,” he anticipated the next question, “I saved his life on a mission so he won’t sell me out.” Steve took a deep breath and then shrugged “You know the risks, Sam. If any of us get caught then…” “Back to the Pokey.” Sam shrugged “Yeah, I got it. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t rat your location out.”

“Me neither.” Wanda added. 

“I suppose, to be fair,” Katie bit her lip, “we’ve been here for a long time now. It won’t harm us to disappear for a while, regroup in a few weeks. And we’ll draw even less attention apart as they won’t be expecting it.” And so, for the first time in 10 months, the four went their separate ways. ****** True to his word Steve was there when they woke Bucky up. Once he had come round the two greeted one another with the same love and affection they always did. Suri’s scans showed that the programming was no longer present in Bucky’s brain, but there was one last thing they had to do to make sure.

Say the trigger words.

Which was why Katie, Steve, a one armed Bucky and T’Challa were now heading to the underground fort of the palace. Steve in his combat suit, Katie in her cat suit clutching a rifle and T’Challa in his black panther garb, two members of his Kings Guard guard following behind.

As they were about to enter the underground cell, Bucky grabbed Katie’s arm and pulled her to one side.

“What the hell Bucky?” she almost yelped, and he let go of her arm and held his finger to his lips.

“Listen, Doll, I got a favour to ask. If this hasn’t worked…” he took a deep breath “I want you to end it.”

“End what?”  she arched an eyebrow at him. “Me.” he said simply “Steve’s said you’re a good shot. I want you to put a bullet in my head.” Katie looked at him, and then burst out laughing “Whatever.” “I’m being deadly serious.” he looked at her. “I can’t and I don’t want to live like that anymore.” he shook his head sadly “I’d rather die that know that what they’ve done is still in there.” “Bucky,” she frowned, “you’d be safe here, you know that, no one would trigger you.” “No, we don’t know that.” he said earnestly, “Please Katie, I’m begging you. You owe me, remember?” “So you save my life and you want me to take yours?” “Yeah.” he nodded, “Pretty much.”

“You’re an asshole James Buchanan Barnes” she hissed, glaring at him before shooting a glance over his shoulder at where Steve was stood, talking to T’Challa. She shook her head sadly. “I can’t.”

“Listen, I’m asking you because I trust you to do it.” he said, looking over his shoulder to where she had been watching Steve. He was now stood observing the pair of them and they both smiled at him. Katie took a deep breath, looking into Bucky’s steel blue eyes and gave a sigh. She knew how hard this was on him and she could fully understand where he was coming from but still, asking her to do it, especially when she knew Steve would be besides himself made her feel sick.

“I’ve written Steve a letter.” Bucky said quickly, as the Super Soldier was now making his way over. “It explains what I’ve asked you to do. So please, give me your word.”

She looked at him, swallowing, and gave him a small nod before her eyes flicked to Steve as he approached, a frown on his face.

“You two alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, Katie was just asking me how I was really feeling.” Bucky looked at his friend.

Katie shrugged and smiled at Steve in what she hoped as a convincing way “Wanted to make sure he was alright, that’s all.”

Steve studied her for a moment, and she smiled again before he turned to Bucky. “It’s gonna be ok.” Steve assured his friend, clapping him on his shoulder, shooting another glance at his wife who was nervously chewing her lip. He frowned again, but pushed the suspicion to the back of his mind and then nodded. “Come on.” “Yeah, let’s get this over with.” Bucky mumbled.

Steve and T’Challa stepped into the room which was sealed whilst Katie took up her position on the other side of the one way glass with Suri who pressed the microphone to talk into the room.

““I don’t know why you are all worrying, brother, it is like you do not trust me…” the young woman scoffed. “Take no chances Sister.” T’Challa shot back. “You know this”.

Suri made a noise in her throat and then spoke again “Ok, I’m ready when you are.” She held the red book in her hand that they had recovered from Zumo. T’Challa engaged his helmet whilst Steve stood stoic as ever, throwing a glance over his shoulder to the glass he knew his wife was stood at the other side of.

“Ready Buck?” he asked turning back. His friend nodded, taking a deep breath.

T’Challa signalled to Suri who, after a little hesitation, began to read, each word punctuated by a pause.

"Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace…”

Katie watched intently and saw Bucky was clenching his teeth and suddenly she started to get a little bit nervous. She wasn’t the only one that had spotted it either. Steve moved slightly, adopting a little more of a battle stance than he had been as he clocked his friends reaction.

“ Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight Car"

The last words hit Steve like a truck. It was depraved that Hydra would use those words. Bucky had plunged from a train car to his supposed death. There was no randomness to that at all, unlike the seemingly obscure nature of the rest of the words, nor was it any accident it was the last trigger they would use. There were the final words because they signified the death of Bucky and the birth of the killer Winter Soldier.

Sick bastards.

Bucky’s chest was heaving, his fist was clenching, and for a split second Steve feared the worse. But when his friend looked up, he saw the blue eyes of Bucky Barnes looking back at him, and not the icy glare of the Winter Soldier.

“Buck?” he asked gently, his voice cracking slightly. Bucky looked at him, a single tear falling down his cheek.

“Nothing.” he said, and Katie let out a soft sigh of relief, her hands sliding down her face to cover her mouth. “Nothing.”

T’Challa threw a party of sorts that night which consisted of a bar crawl through the city. Katie and Bucky dubbed it a “Fuck Hydra” party much to Steve’s chagrin. But he couldn’t bring himself to care that much, as at the end of the day, if anyone had as much right to stick their middle fingers up to Hydra it was them. There was still something troubling him though, so when T’Challa left the bar they were sat at for a few moments, he turned to Bucky and asked him outright what had been going on with him and Katie outside the cell before. Bucky hesitated before he hung his head slightly and peered up at Steve from where he was sat next to him, a tumbler of some kind of Wakandan alcohol in his hand.

“I asked her to kill me.” Bucky admitted, swilling the liquid round in the glass “If it hadn’t worked I asked her to put a bullet in my head. She didn’t want to but I told her she owed me.” Steve felt himself blanche “You did what?” “You don’t know what it’s like.” Bucky shook his head “Living with the fact that at any time someone could mutter a string of words and…” he shot back the alcohol and slid his empty glass back to the Bar Tender to top up. “I didn’t want to live like.”

”You put that on her?” Steve’s eyes flashed with anger, “Damnit Buck, you should have asked me!”

“Would you have done it?” Bucky countered, Steve took a big sigh, knowing he was caught “Exactly.” Bucky scoffed “And besides, you’re the one that said she was a dead shot.”

Bucky eyed his friend for a while before he slid his empty glass to the man behind the bar, gesturing for another top up. “Anyway, it’s irrelevant now because here I am.” he smirked

Steve nodded and reached over his glass, smiling “Yeah, here you are.” T’Challa chose that point to come back and he settled at the bar next to Steve.

“So, Sergeant Barnes, we’ll have to see about getting you some permanent lodgings.” he smiled “Maybe a private hut. There is a quiet tribe, not far from the river, unless you would prefer a post in my Kings Guard.” “I’m done fighting” Bucky shook his head as he took another drink from his glass. “Certainly for the time being anyway. A hut sounds mighty fine. Maybe I can get some goats.” “Goats?” Steve looked at him.

“I like Goats.” Bucky shrugged “Do you remember the one in the petting zoo near School?” “Yeah, it set my asthma off” Steve snorted before the pair of them descended into laughter.

Across the bar Katie was stood with Suri and one of T’Challa’s personal guards, Okoye. She instantly warmed to Okoye, the woman reminding her a lot of Natasha. They stood chatting for a while before a loud roll of laughter caught their attention and they turned to see T’Challa, Bucky and Steve howling at something, as T’Challa gestured for the bar tender to top up their glasses whilst Okoye excused herself to head over to speak to her husband. 

“Oh they’ve broken out the Wakandan Spice” Suri muttered, eyeing up the men.

“What’s that?” Katie asked.

“The only thing that gets my brother drunk!” she snorted “That stuff could knock out a rhino.”

“So it should have an effect on Super Soldiers?” Katie grinned. Drunk Steve was one of her favourite Steves.

“Let’s go find out!” Suri nodded, a cheeky grin on her face. They made their way over and Katie could see instantly the woman was right. Steve had a glazed look in his eyes and Bucky was leaning back in his chair, a pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Hey beautiful” Steve smiled up at Katie, pulling her into his lap, his hand trailed up and down her spine, lazily. "Where you been all evening?”

“About 10 meters away over there.” she smirked, pointing. Suri was reaching over to steal a bit of the liquor from Bucky’s glass and T’Challa slapped her hand. “You are not even old enough to drink.” he glared at her.

“Tssk hush brother. Just because you are now well into your 30s. You always seem to be so bitter about me being much younger than you.” At that Bucky barked out a laugh.

“Don’t know what you’re snorting at old man.” Katie glanced at him and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Not exactly a comment I'd expect from someone who’s married to a 100-year-old man."

"98” Steve corrected.

Katie leaned back in her husband's lap to peer at him, her right hand running through his hair. "Doesn't look a day over twenty nine," she grinned.

“Hey brother, why doesn’t your power stop your ageing?”  Suri quipped.

“Shut up.” T’Challa said. “Before I carry you back to the palace”

As the two siblings began to quibble, Katie glanced at Steve. “Been talking about the good old days?” “In a fashion.” Steve smirked.

“Anymore good tales of your misspent youth to tell me?” Bucky shook his head. “Sure Steve’s told you enough already.”

"I never told her about the time you set up a double date for us and then forgot to show up." Steve looked at him, his arms tightening around his wife.

"That never happened." Bucky shook his head.

"It absolutely happened. Caroline O’Hara and Deborah Smith"  

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, yeah. Brunette and a red head. A curly red head.” he grinned.

“Yup. Double date to the theatre, only you never showed up.” Steve looked at him, accusingly “And little old me was left to explain to Debbie why you had stood her up."

Bucky smirked into his glass.

"I thought she was gonna kill me," Steve mused, turning to look at Katie. “She kept hitting me with her purse. And then Caroline started, asking where the hell he was and why he thought it fit to stand up her best friend and fix her up with some kind of joke.”

Katie frowned, narrowing her eyes. "You weren’t a joke."

"Thanks baby." he grinned before he turned to fix Bucky with a glare “And do you remember why you didn’t show up?” Bucky was now shaking with mirth, as he looked at Steve, his eyes bright with tears of laughter “Go on, tell her Buck.”

"I was with Maggie Dougherty.” he smirked

“Yeah, you were.” Steve pointed at him, “That was the night you got caught sneaking out of her room and down her fire escape by her dad who beat the crap out of you.”

“Worth it though.” Bucky snorted “She was hot. Brunette waves, pretty face, nice ass.” “Yeah.” Steve nodded and Katie slapped the back of his head.

“Oww!” he looked at her as she glared at him. Grinning he reached up to give her a soft kiss “Not a patch on you though, pretty girl..”

After another hour or so Katie left them to it, heading back to the palace with Suri. She’d had enough, the alcohol she had drunk had lulled her into that happy place here she felt warm and fuzzy inside, and ready for bed.

Unfortunately, Steve woke her up when he came crashing into the room a few hours later.

“Shit.” he mumbled, as he banged into the chair by the dresser. “Shhhh” he said, to no one but himself. He staggered over to the bed before face planting straight down.

Katie grinned as he peeked up at her.

“I’m drunk.” he told her, because he had to explain or she wouldn’t know, right?

“No shit Sherlock.” she giggled and scrambled out of the duvet “Ok Captain Badass, let’s get you in bed.” “Promises, promises.” he said wriggling his eyebrow, eyeing her up and down as she leaned over, flashing him a glimpse down the top she was wearing to bed.

“Yeah, not a chance pal. I doubt very much you’d be of any use in this state.”

“Hey.” he pouted rolling over so he was on his back, watching her as she climbed over the bed “Why are you not wearing one of my T’shirts?”

“I dunno.” she said, dropping to the floor to take off his suede boots. “Just put this on.”

“I like you in my shirts.I like you better out of them.” he grinned, grabbing hold of her as she stood up.

“How much have you had?” she laughed as he pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling  into her neck.

“Enuff.” he spoke back, voice muffled. “You know you’re the prettiest gal in the whole world?” He peeked up at her and she had to laugh as she ruffled his hair. 

“Arms up.”

“I like it when you undress me” he grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

Eventually she managed to tug off his shirt and his jeans whilst he made some other reference to sex, before he pulled her back down onto the bed next to him, giggling like a school kid.

“Bucky told me.” He slurred.

“Told you what?”

“That he asked you to shoot him.” Steve hiccupped “But I’m glad you didn’t have to.”

Katie chuckled to herself “Me too baby.” “And now he’s all better.” Steve sighed, “Good isn’t it?” “It’s awesome.” she smiled, reaching up to bush his hair off his face. “You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow.” He responded with shrug. “I do love you. So much.”

“I know and I love you too.” she said, “Now you gonna get into bed?”

He pushed himself up before beginning a monumental fight with the duvet to get underneath it, the whole thing a great source of amusement to Katie. She’d seen him tipsy from the Asgardian stuff Thor gave him before, but not flat out shit faced like this.

“Are you gonna puke?” she asked, stroking his head as he sighed, nuzzling into his pillow. 

“No.” he said, shaking his head. Then a pause before he hiccupped slightly “But I think I need water.” “Alright, wait there.” Katie climbed out of bed. She grabbed him a bottle from the mini fridge near the door but by the time she had turned back, Steve had his face buried into his pillow and made nothing more than a noise when she offered it to him, not looking up. Deciding she couldn’t be bothered to argue with him, she gently placed the bottle on the night stand next to him, and ran her hand through his hair one more time before she crossed to her side of the bed and settled down with him.

“Night soldier.” she said softly, kissing his cheek.

“Night princess.” he slurred into his pillow.

Tags

@the-omni-princess

@momobaby227

@geekofmanythings16​

@angelofhell-666

@thewackywriter

@marvelfansworld

@cobalt-gear

[hyunjxnshine]

&& oh... (solo)

When my hands touch you

We take each other’s breath away

At each other’s gaze

The feeling we’ve never felt before

This has no explanation

I know its nothing ordinary

Makes me want more

There were many things that could go wrong with all of this. Marriage? To Felix? Hyunjin wasn’t sure this was a good idea, despite how happy it might make him. It was a secret from the man in question and it would remain that way, but how was he supposed to keep his secret when he was married to the man and living with him.

Years ago it wasn’t this hard. Felix followed him around and Hyunjin loved it. He loved that the younger male wanted to be around him because he didn’t have attention from his own family. Felix’s attention made him feel wanted. It was always the two of them until it wasn’t. Felix moved onto someone else when Hyunjin’s brother came back from overseas. He hadn’t seen Hanjae in such a long time and the older brother was much nicer and generous than Hyunjin. 

From there Hyunjin changed. He didn’t like the person he became. Seeing Felix beg for Hanjae’s attention made some sort of switch go off in Hyunjin’s head. Seeing his brother get something Hyunjin wanted without any effort broke his heart and the person who suffered from it was Felix.

He became cruel. He knew what he was doing. If he couldn’t have Felix want him, he would make Felix hate him.

But it was killing him.

I want to pester you, even though it doesn’t make sense

I will stop all calculating thoughts

As if I’ve lied, I want you to find out this excitement of mine

I don’t want to stay by your side as if I were a scent

Through high school and college, he saw Felix more than Felix ever wanted. They were family friends and they had the same group of friends. If it wasn’t a night out with the family, they would meet up at a club and it just turned into the two of them arguing.

It was pathetic. 

He remembered in high school how the two of them got into some stupid argument over a project where they were partners (Hyunjin might have flirted with the teacher to pair him with Felix) and Felix ran off. Hyunjin found him in the library, his head resting in a book as he napped. Hyunjin sat down next to him and rested his arms on the table before resting his head on top of it. He couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful male. He reached out, gently brushing hair from the male’s face.

As I hold your hand, I get younger

I flirt saying don’t look at me like that, which is not very nice

I’ll look you in the eyes and get one step closer to you

I plan it but in front of you, I’m still a kid

It is moments like this that Felix didn’t know about. The moments where Hyunjin puts his pride behind and just wants to be near Felix.

Even going to the club, Hyunjin may come off as someone who sleeps around (and he does, there is no doubt), but he couldn’t count on his hands the amount of times he was called by a friend to take Felix home when he was too drunk. Felix always thought it was someone else because Hyunjin always left. Or when someone was being a bit too much and didn’t seem to take a no from Felix as a means to stop, Hyunjin got them taken out of the club.

He could never actually show the other how much he cared. If Felix knew then what? Nothing would come from? Felix has already written Hyunjin off and with good reason. 

I know that bothering you does not get me anything

And what I know best is that you are the only thing that inhabits my mind

My heart loves you

Wants to have your heart

My feelings are quite toxic

You are the only detoxifier 

Despite everything, he still wanted Felix to be his. This wedding was just another sick excuse to keep him on Felix’s mind. 

Even as they were pronounced married, Felix glared at him and Hyunjin felt like his heart was dying. He did this to himself. He made himself the villain in Felix’s mind. 

“Is telling him honestly the worst thing?” His brother asked after another night of Felix running out after another fight.

Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, staring up at the sky. His brother and him were sitting on the back patio, the stars barely visible because of the lights of the city. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Would he believe me? And what have I done to prove it?”

“You do everything for him,” Hanjae pointed out with a frown, “If you’d just let me or the guys mention it-”

“No. Felix can’t know. He wouldn’t like it.”

I’m sure how I feel but it doesn’t go the way I want

My naive expressions, actions and manners will make me seem like a baby to you

Being like an adult, love like an adult,

Being a mature man, things that seem easy

But it’s hard when I’m with you

“You think you have the right to tell me what to do?”

He was caught in between a rock and a hard place. The words left his lips before he had any real control. Anger bottled up in the pits of his stomach and he just spoke with little regard. The things he said to Felix… he didn’t blame the other.

It was his own fault. He should have just shut up.

“You accuse me of being a slut, but God forbid you are fucking someone at least once a week,” Felix accused and Hyunjin couldn’t even deny it, but he was drunk and drunk Hyunjin didn’t know better.

“Please,” Hyunjin scoffed, “It’s one thing when I do it. It’s normal and meaningless when I do it, but you… Mr. I’m-Too-Good-For-Anyone. I’d bet you’d give it up for my brother in an-”

The slap came immediately. Even if they were on a crowded street in the city. The world around them seemed silent as he looked at Felix in surprise. 

“Fuck. You.”

Hyunjin could only stand there and watch Felix walk away from him, getting in the car of the guy from his school. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked at his friend as the tears started to well up in Hyunjin’s eyes, “W-why can’t I just treat him right?”

His friend patted his back and ushered him away from the prying eyes and to Hyunjin’s car to drive him home.

I thought I knew

I was audacious as if I knew everything

But I didn’t know, with you

Every time I get closer it gets harder

I prepare what I’m going to say, but it disappears

At last I end up saying nonsense

“You remember when we came here when we were kids?” Hyunjin asked, nudging Felix’s arm, “You wanted to get the boat ride and as soon as we were on it, you immediately started crying and clung to me the entire time.”

Felix scoffed, rolling his eyes as he looked away from Hyunjin, “I was like ten years old. Of course I cried. It’s a giant swinging boat!”

Hyunjin motioned to the ride before holding out his hand to Felix. His heart started to race when he thought about the other actually taking his hand, “Then want to give it another try? You can cling to me all you want. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The younger male looked up at Hyunjin and then at the hand offered to him. He seemed to think about for a moment before he took hold of Hyunjin’s hands, intertwining their fingers, “Prepare to be very disappointed.”

Felix pulled Hyunjin towards the ride and Hyunjin’s eyes fell on their intertwined fingers. He couldn’t help but smile. Even after their fight, they made up and things were going a little easier now. He was trying to be decent the best he could. Moments like this made him think maybe there was a chance with Felix.

As I held your hand, I get younger

I flirt saying don’t look at me like that, which is not very nice

I’ll look you in the eyes and get one step closer to you

I plan it but in front of you, I’m still a kid

“God! Why don’t you fucking grow up?!”

Felix scoffed loudly and gestured at himself, “Me? I need to grow up? At least I never brought anyone to the home we share!”

“He’s tutoring me! I’m not fucking him! And stop pretending like this marriage means shit to you,” Felix pushed his finger into Hyunjin’s chest. They glared at each other, “This is just a means for you to get that position as Vice President. Yeah, I found out.”

Color fell from Hyunjin’s face. Felix found out? Yeah, he made that request of his brother and father, but they swore they wouldn’t tell Felix. It would become news much later and it would make it seem like his own merit. He didn’t even care about that anymore honestly. The two of them had been doing so much better. They were just talking and laughing more than fighting. They hadn’t had a big fight in months then that asshole had to come into their shared home and jealousy took over Hyunjin. 

It was like the moment Felix even looked at another guy, Hyunjin lost all sense of reason. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t right either. Felix didn’t deserve this. Hyunjin’s insecurities were his own and it was his own fault for never actually telling Felix how he felt.

Felix pushed his shoulder, “What? Not going to say anything? Like you said, we both get something out of this, right? But you sure as hell made out as a winner. Was it all worth it? Making me fucking miserable so you could become Vice President? Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”

“Felix, Jesus. It was never like that,” Hyunjin grabbed Felix’s wrist when the other turned to leave. Felix tried to yank his arm away, but Hyunjin held firm, “It was never like that! Can you just listen to me?”

“Maybe… we should go,” Hanjae muttered, standing up slowly. Their friends had all come that night to celebrate Hanjae’s promotion to President of the company, but then Felix had to invite his own friend and Hyunjin just had to start shit.

“No. You guys need to hear this too. Tell me, Hyunjuin. Why?” Felix cried, pushing him away, “Why should I? All you do is confuse me! One day, you’re sweet and the next day you are absolute shit to me. You keep manipulating me and gaslighting me and making me feel like shit and for what? Why do I have to be the only one miserable wishing you would just be good to me?”

Hanjae made his way over and rested a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder, “Felix, you should-”

“No, let him keep going,” Hyunjin’s voice was quiet as he looked Felix in the eyes. He didn’t look away, but his expression said it all. If he ever regretted the things he did, it all seemed to weigh in on this moment.

“Ha… ha,” Felix laughed humorlessly, “Oh, you want to hear it? You are a slut. All you do is bury yourself in some other skank or asshole’s bed to drown out how pathetic you are! You will never know what actual love is. You don’t deserve to be loved!”

“Felix!” Hanjae rose his voice, surprising Felix. He had never heard Hanjae yell, especially not at him. “Enough. You don’t know what you’re saying. That’s too far.”

“No,” Hyunjin shrugged, “He’s right.”

Hyunjin lifted his hand and pulled off the ring on his finger. He stared at it for a moment before he gently grabbed Felix’s hand and placed it in his hand. He raised his eyes to look at Felix’s, “I’ll get our lawyer to make up the papers tomorrow. You can… keep the house. You won’t have to see me again, Felix.”

Without saying goodbye, Hyunjin grabbed his wallet and keys from the entrance and left the house. It was eerily silent for a moment. Felix had turned to watch Hyunjin leave before he turned to look at Hanjae, “He… he just left?”

“Felix, Hyunjin has been in love with you since he was sixteen.”

The words took Felix’s breath away.

What should I do?

Am I wrong?

It will be over soon

I want to get closer

More, until I reach you

I’ll look you in the eyes and get one step closer to you

I plan it but in front of you, I’m still a kid

[captainjetrocketboy]

Carry the Blame [ModestHD Fanfic]

Woah, hey, this is different. I really was not expecting to be so invested in this ship, but things happen right? I saw how little there was for this ship, too, and I was like “Well that’s gotta change”. So, enjoy I guess. A little different from the usual, but it’s good to shake it up once in a while, eh?

From an outsider’s perspective, their job might seem like living the dream. Nearly every day is filled with excitement and adrenaline-pumping action, a gun is always attached somewhere on their person, and to top it all, they’re living on a pile of cash.

At least, that’s what it looks like. Truthfully, they fear for their very lives day to day. It certainly isn’t the dream they were expecting to be living.

Except Aleks, who was always the thrill-seeker of the group. It was as if he couldn’t keep moving forward without a bit of exhilaration during heists. One time, he had tripped an alarm on purpose just so he could get the chance to run away, maybe even shoot his trusty pistol. The others hold this against Aleks, sometimes saying that he’s a liability, but for the most part they let it fly past over their heads. What could they say, Aleks may be reckless, but he’s damn good at his job.

Today was no different. Aleks was eagerly anticipating their next robbery, like he always did. Yet this time, Brett thought it was time to bring in their youngest recruit, Trevor, onto the field. Aleks was rightfully against such an action, but Brett reasoned that it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Aleks would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried for the guy. After all the time put into training, Trevor might be able to pretend like he’s a threat, but he was still an awkward and fragile being. But Aleks knew that this went beyond just Trevor’s safety. It also affected him, on a deeper, personal level.

From the moment the Russian’s heart began to thaw, Aleks started to spend more time with Trevor. More meaningful time, that is, whether it was extra rounds in the weight room, or outside chilling in the night air after a rough day. No matter how much Aleks wanted to deny it, the feelings would never go down. They would never go away. Never leave him alone.

Aleks was in love with Trevor.

But he couldn’t just tell that to him. He couldn’t risk it, not with the kind of life they lead. If they were to become a real thing, then surely heartbreak would follow suit. Either one of them could be dead the next day, and Aleks didn’t think he could handle it. Even so, what if Trevor didn’t like him back? It’s happened before with previous crushes, but those didn’t feel as right as it does now with Trevor. Aleks planned to be upfront about it, but could never go through with it. He would always give himself shit for it; for being a fucking coward that can’t admit anything to their lover.

Despite his protests and troubling thoughts, Aleks was still ready for this mission. It was all going fine until the blaring sirens pierced his eardrums.

“What the fuck?! I thought that Asher and Trevor were keeping a look out!” James shouted, his voice still shrouded by the alarms. “Did you do something stupid again, Aleks?”

Aleks couldn’t give a proper response before Brett cut him off. “C’mon, now isn’t the time! Anna should still be at the getaway spot!” Brett started in a direction, and both James and Aleks tailed behind.

The pit in Aleks’ stomach grew tenfold, and he feared his worst nightmare was coming to fruition. If Asher and Trevor got caught, then that could mean…

The trio bolted through hallway after hallway before they could see their ticket out of here. But what captured Aleks’ eye was the leaning figure against Asher, who was struggling to get them both into the car. Brett, James, and Aleks burst through a window as a shortcut to get to the car, and jumped on as soon as they could. Anna floored it before the door could be shut properly.

Once the adrenaline had settled down amongst the group, Aleks turned to see a sight that he wished he hadn’t. Blood was seeping through Trevor’s shirt and jacket, and his body lied limp on the van’s flooring. His head leaned against Asher’s legs, who was still panting heavily and panicking over the man beside him. Aleks had trouble comprehending what he saw, as if the mere sight caused his mind to short-circuit. His heart shattered into pieces, aching his entire body with guilt and sadness throughout. Tears started to form under his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. Just seeing the love of his life like this was killing him right then and there.

The sharp and sudden breaths of Asher yanked him back to reality. He gritted his teeth and cracked his knuckles as an insurmountable rage burned within him. It blazed like a wildfire, spawning from the darker side of his mind.

“What… What the fuck happened Asher?!” Aleks could hear his molars crack in the back of his mouth. “You were supposed to have his back!”

Asher was caught off-guard. He didn’t expect such a volatile reaction from Aleks of all people. Regardless, he had a look of defeat veiled over his face, showing remorse for what he let happen. “I-I’m sorry, Aleks! I tried, I really did! T-There were too many, but Trevor took out a bunch of ‘em! They got a good shot on him, though, and he passed out before I could get him in the van…”

Aleks glared at the other man. The fire inside him was still burning, but he knew this wasn’t the time nor place to get mad with Asher. A fight over Trevor’s well-being wouldn’t be unjustified, yet Aleks thought it would be suspicious if he were the one to initiate it. Especially knowing his feelings for Trevor were still unknown to everyone. Right now, they needed to get Trevor to a hospital, and fast. Aleks just hoped they would make it to one on time…

Aleks was never a big fan of hospitals. Even after being admitted several times into the same place, he couldn’t get over the unease he experienced. The pale white walls felt constraining, as if they were slowly creeping towards Aleks.

It wasn’t any better this time around. Now he had more than just himself to worry about. The doctors had rushed Trevor to the ER as soon as they got there. Aleks had volunteered to look over Trevor while the others took their spoils to the warehouse, which left him to wait in the lobby alone. It was something Aleks was used to, but he had plenty more running through his head, especially regarding Trevor. He was, quite frankly, scared; terrified of what could happen. It was unnatural for Aleks to have these strong emotions, considering his other friends have been in dozens of similar accidents. But things were different this time. It wasn’t just a friend whose life was dangling on a burning rope; it was Trevor who was on the brink of death. The person that Aleks cared for the most. The person that Aleks had fallen in love with.

Hours went by as the sunlight seeped away from the building interior. Shades of gold and reddish-orange passed over the Russian, who hadn’t shifted from position. The only movement came from his bouncing leg, occasionally switching between the right and left. Suddenly, a pair of nearby doors swung open as two figures made their way into the room. One of them caught Aleks’ attention.

“Aleks! How is everything?” Asher stammered, concern obviously present in his voice. Aleks slowly stood as both him and Anna briskly approached. “We came as soon as we could. Is Trevor-”

The mention of Trevor’s name set a trigger off. Before the other man could say anymore, Aleks quickly reeled a fist back and swung it against Asher’s nose. A scream escaped his mouth as he recoiled back into Anna, who caught him before he could fall to the floor.

“W-What the fuck, Aleks?!”

“What’re you doing here?” Aleks’ words seethed with anger. The blazing inferno from the depths of his soul were rekindled, and it was only a matter of when he’d explode again.

“W-We were worried about Trevor…”

Aleks advanced forward, getting up close to Asher’s now bloodied face. He pointed a finger right on the man’s chest. “Oh yeah, coming from the ass who let this happen in the first place!”

“Aleks, enough!” Anna shouted, wanting to stop things from escalating further. She stood between the two men to shield Asher from any further hits. “Look, I’ve been with you guys for some time now. I’m sure Asher didn’t intend to hurt anyone. I know from experience that these things just happen!”

“But they aren’t supposed to happen to Trevor! The one time that he gets dragged along with us, he fails to do his only fucking job!” Aleks’ voice falters as he backs away, his rage steadily making way for sadness. “Tre-Trevor shouldn’t have gotten hurt. Let alone get fucking shot!”

Asher worked his way around Anna, and cautiously crept up to the teary-eyed Russian. He kept a hand on his nose in a shallow attempt to keep blood from dripping. He stopped when Aleks spoke once again, now sputtering his words.

“I-I know it wasn’t you. It was me who sh-should’ve done more.” He turned around to see Asher within arm’s length. “I’m- I’m sorry…”

Asher took a moment to look stare at the man in front of him before using his free hand to return a punch. It made violent contact with Aleks’ right eye. He didn’t see it coming, and he took several steps back in pain.

“You better be damn sorry.”

Anna silently gasped at the sight, and stood frozen before taking initiative. She grabbed Asher’s arm, the same one that swung at Aleks, and pulled him back. “C’mon. We should do something about your nose.”

With Aleks’ good eye, he could see both of them leave without even looking back. He slumped back into his chair, and rested against the hand cupping his swelling eye. Despite the throbbing pain he felt, Aleks was exhausted after that fight, on top of all the shit that’s happened today. Soon enough, he found himself drifting off to the sound of silence that now hung over him.

The night had brought along with it a chilling wind, but Trevor thought it could take his mind off things. He had just finished a sparring match with Brett, despite his vocal protests. The older man promised to go easy, but Trevor’s ribs had to disagree.

Softly, as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere, Aleks pushed open the door that lead to where Trevor was resting. He glanced around to see if anyone else was with him before stepping into the biting cold air. Trevor didn’t seem to notice until Aleks spoke up.

“Hey.”

Trevor lifted his head up to see Aleks slowly approach. He gave a small smile, which the Russian gladly returned. “Hey, man.”

“How’re you feeling? You took quite a beating back there.” Aleks gently spoke as he took a seat right beside Trevor. 

“Like shit. Brett really packs a punch. Guess I should’ve expected as much from the balding super-beast.”

Aleks chuckled a subdued laugh and briefly looked away. “Yeah, first time fighting him isn’t great. But, it gives you a taste of what you’ll deal with out there.”

“But I-” ‘don’t want to be a part of this’ were the words Trevor left unspoken. He stopped himself before admitting his fears to Aleks, afraid he’d use them as ammo for a joke later. “I’m just worried about that. Going out there, I mean. With you and the others.”

He couldn’t admit right then and there, but Aleks desperately wanted to protect Trevor from the dangers of the job. He deserved so much more, yet Aleks didn’t have the balls to help him without expressing his feelings. “I’m- I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Give it some time, and eventually you could be as skilled as the rest of us.”

The phrase ‘the rest of us’ hit Trevor hard. Those words only added onto his insecurities and feelings of inadequacy. He almost thought Aleks did it on purpose. Trevor’s face shifted slightly in shame, and turned away from the other man.

Aleks noticed the change in Trevor’s attitude, and instantly felt regret. He could tell that he hurt Trevor just with his words. That was the last thing Aleks ever wanted to do.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Trevor. I wasn’t even thinking-”

“Don’t worry about it, dude. It’s fine.”

Silence hung over the two men for what felt like hours. Aleks needed a way to quickly make it up to Trevor. “W-Well, I can tell you want to be left alone now. But…” He stood from his sitting position before removing his scarf. “It’s getting kinda cold out here. Don’t want ya getting sick or something.”

Trevor hesitated before reluctantly accepting the generous offer. “Thanks…”

“Want me to get you some hot chocolate, too? I could do that if you’d like.”

“Sure,” was the response Trevor gave as he wrapped the warm and fluffy scarf around his neck. “Just don’t spike it with anything.” He looked back just in time to see Aleks give a genuine smile and a thumbs-up before leaving the other man to his own devices.

The news the doctors had for Aleks when he awoke was certainly a welcome change of pace. They told him that the bullet miraculously didn’t pierce any vital organs, and that it was a relatively easy fix. Aleks felt the burling weight on his shoulders finally be lifted. Now he knew that Trevor was going to be okay. That he was going to be okay. The doctors even allowed him to stay with Trevor in his room as he recovered from surgery. The lights were dimmed, and the television was on for background noise. Aleks was leaned back into a spare chair, right beside Trevor’s bed. The doctors were also kind enough to lend a bag of ice for his black eye.

“You really had me worried back there, Trev.” Aleks spoke to no one in particular. It was more for him than anybody else. “I really thought that… you could’ve been gone. But you sure proved me wrong. I always knew you were a tough guy.”

Aleks shifted forward and rested his left hand on top of Trevor’s. “I’m not leaving your side, you know that right? When you wake up, I’ll be right here.”

He rubbed Trevor’s soft hand, a telling sign that he truly has no experience with rough work. He looked down at it, and observed the stark contrast between Trevor’s and his own calloused hands. He certainly has a long way to go, but Aleks resolves to be there for him every step of the way. No way in hell was he going to let Trevor down. After holding his hand for a few more moments, he took in a deep breath, preparing to finally open up emotionally and demonstrate a rare instance of vulnerability. He was ready for it; when Trevor wakes up, Aleks will tell him how he feels. No backing out now. Today could’ve been his last chance, and it only made him realize how much he wanted this.

As if right on cue, Aleks could feel Trevor’s hand shift slightly in his. His eyes widened with joy and tears of happiness began to collect in his eyes. “Trevor?”

It took a moment before Trevor could respond, his voice raspy and croaky but still lovely to Aleks’ ears. “A-Aleks? W-What happened…” He tried to sit up, but recoiled back in pain. “Ah, shit…”

“Woah, hey. You might want to take it easy. The drugs are still wearing off, and you don’t want to tear out your stitches right away.”

Trevor glanced around the room in search for something to look at until his eyes met Aleks’. “The hell happened to your face?”

Aleks gave a small chuckle before responding. “Oh, uh, I may have sort of… punched Asher.” Trevor’s eyebrows lifted at his statement. “It’s okay, though. He returned the favor.”

A low huff came from Trevor as he grinned ever so slightly. He glanced away briefly before coming right back to Aleks. He noticed tear streaks running down his cheeks, but chose not to say anything.

“Trevor, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…” Aleks wasn’t going to back down now. He needed Trevor to know the truth. “I-I know this is a little sudden, but, today made me realize that I need to do this now. I… I really like you. I mean, you just mean so much to me, even since the day you first joined us. I know things are difficult right now, and that you don’t want to be a part of any of it, but we can get through this. Together.”

Trevor didn’t have much to say. He only looked at Aleks with soft eyes that showed him he was taking this seriously. That alone soothed Aleks’ nerves a bit as he continued. “As crazy as it may sound, it’s been like this for so long. I’ve just been too afraid to tell you until now. Almost losing you scared me beyond words, and I don’t think I can move on without at least giving you the truth. So…” Aleks placed his hand back on Trevor’s and squeezed it lightly.

“I love you.”

Aleks let Trevor absorb all the information, and waited patiently for a response. “That was… quite a lot, Aleks. I-I think…” He shifted his hand in such a way that allowed him to squeeze Aleks’ hand, as well.

“I think I’d be happy to have you by my side.”

No more words were spoken. Aleks beamed with happiness and relief, and allowed the tears to come down once again. Dropping the ice bag on the bed, he stood up and went to give Trevor a meaningful yet gentle hug. As his arms wrapped around the other man, Trevor couldn’t help but hug back. Both were content to remain in each other’s arms, for as long as they could.

[ruffoverthinksthings]

I'm dying to know about the interactions between Claudine and Phoebus. Knowing them, I feel that it would be a mixture of hilarious hashing about life and routine vs. a hit-and-miss about the best courses of action regarding the VKs. After what Claudine's gone through, how would Phoebus' humor be effective? Especially with Claudine. Btw, you're awesome, keep on turning out the headcanons. You're doing better than the actual canon material.

God Help The Outcasts (Part 3): The Traitor

Warning: Referencesto Past Sexual Abuse.

Claudine’s bigpublic outburst obviously had massive consequences, reaching far pasther getting dragged off-stage, the sanctions on her permanent recordand her probation in Auradon, and extra Remedial Goodness classeswith Quasimodo.

On a larger scale,it opens up a massive rift in the public, split between those thatsay she was completely out of line for exploding like that and usingso much profanity and rudeness (in front of children, no less), andthose that believe she was completely justified, as they had beenusing the “proper channels” to communicate with the governmentand had either gotten apologies before being ignored, or wereoutright oppressed as with the case of the Magic Ban.

In the words of oneof Claudine’s sympathizers, “She was just making sure youcould hear her now!”

Either way, she’scharged with disruption of the peace, obscenity, and corruption ofminors.

Because of thespecial and highly politically charged nature of a VK being taken infor a crime/s,* she gets sent to a very high ranking member of theRoyal Guard who has experience handling “crossing a minefield,whilst blindfolded, dizzy, and drunk” cases:

Captain Phoebus ofFrance.

For logistical andconvenience reasons, he flies in all the way to Auradon Prep, wherethey meet at the interrogation room of a local garrison. The air ismusty, the furniture old and long unused, and the whole place wasobviously just cleaned since its last use a couple of months to ayear back.

Claudine is escortedin without handcuffs, and at Phoebus request, her guards aredismissed, leaving the two of them alone but for the camera, and thestenographer and emergency guards watching behind a one-way glass.

“Do you know whyyou’re here?” Phoebus asks, his expression and tone completelyserious.

“Because I calledout your whole society on their bullshit?” Claudine replies.

“No, you’re herebecause of your fashion choices: it’s illegal to show thatmuch skin. Do you realize how many pedestrian and vehicularaccidents you could have caused just by walking by?”

Claudine blinks.“What.”

Phoebus smiles.“That was a joke. In all seriousness, though, you are in bigtrouble for that tirade you had yesterday—excellent choice ofwords, by the way, never heard those specific combinations of cursesand insults before, they made quite the impact.”

“You learn a loton the Isle,” Claudine replies flatly. “And I’m not apologizingfor it, if that’s what you’re getting at! Throw me back on theIsle for all I care, I’d rather be back there eating garbage, thanbe a bunch of fucking Pharisees like majority of the ‘Good’people running around here!”

“I expected asmuch, which is why I’m here to offer you a deal.”

Claudine sighs, andstarts unbuttoning her shirt even more than it already is. “So longas I don’t have to swallow, pretend you’re amazing, or fake anorgasm…”

Phoebus looks awayand shields his eyes. “Not that kind of deal! Please, buttonyour shirt back up.”

Claudine laughs.“Why? Afraid your wife will find out her tits have gotten too oldfor you?”

“No, because one,I respect you too much to let you degrade yourself like this, two, Ilike being the guy that puts people into jail, not being the guybehind bars, and three, my wife’s breasts are perfect, andI’ll never want for anything more than what she has, thank you verymuch!

“Now would youplease make yourself decent again…?”

Claudine sighsheavily. “Alright…”

A few moments ofsilence and shuffling.

“You’re stilltopless, aren’t you?”

Claudine smirks.“How’d you know?”

“I’ve got asixth sense for whether or not a woman is in a state of undress;blame a wife who likes to lounge around the house completely naked.”

“You luckybastard, you,” Claudine says flatly.

Phoebus smiles. “Iknow, I still can’t believe it myself! Anyway, about that deal Imentioned, one that does not in fact involve you getting naked nor usdoing the do-diddly-dangeroo…”

Claudine sniggered.“That is the dumbest fucking innuendo for ‘fucking’ I have everheard.”

“Ah, but it madeyou laugh, didn’t it?” Phoebus says, pointing a finger at her.

“Only because itwas so offensive I have to laugh to keep myself from dyinginside.”

“Touché, but Istill count that as a win. Now, do I throw out some more jokes andtry to make you laugh, or do you want to get serious and hear out myoffer?”

“I can’t takeyou seriously if you can’t even look me in the eyes, ‘Captain,’”Claudine says playfully.

“I will onceyou’ve put your clothes back on.”

Claudine sighs.“Fine.” A brief moment of silence and more shuffling. “I’mcovered up now! Seriously this time.”

Phoebus carefullyopens his eyes, and is pleased to find she’s about as decent as shecan get with her get up. “Happy to see you didn’t pull a ‘madeyou look!’ on me.”

“Trust me, it’sonly because I want to know what it is you actually want fromme…”

The plan is rathersimple: an hour’s detention after-school Monday-Friday, wherePhoebus is supposed to teach her how to interact with people in apolite way, keep her cool, and not have another outburst or rant likethat, either in social media, in public, and especially anothertelevised event.

“I understandwhere you’re coming from,” Phoebus says on their first meeting.“Everyone talks to everyone, and the internet makes that easierthan ever. But that doesn’t mean you should just say whatever is onyour mind, and more importantly, that you don’t reply to everyonethat talks to you, those who insult you especially.

“And moreimportantly, you have a secret weapon on your side: Part One of ourBig Master Plan.”

Claudine raises hereyebrows. Images of IP traces, royal guards bursting down doors, andinternet trolls pissing their underwear come to her mind. “I’mlistening…”

“This secretweapon, the most powerful move you have against your Pharisees, oneyou can rely on to be 100% effective when used properly, is this:

“Ignore them.”

Claudine stares athim. Then, she scowls. “Are you shitting me right now? Sowhat, I just let their shit-talking stink up my air, never give themcrap back for their bull?”

“No, and beforeyou continue, let me explain: a lot of people don’t realize this,but insults only have the power to hurt you if you let them. YourPharisees are like vampires, sucking out your self-worth, confidence,and good feelings, but also like vampires, they can only hurt you ifyou invite them into your house.

“Your reaction iswhat the Pharisees want—they want to know that they hurt you, thatthey riled you up so bad you find you have no choice but to payattention to them.

“If you deny thempermission to ever enter your front door, they’ll just glare at youthrough the windows, yell at you to let them in, before they leaveand find someone else to feed on. In my experience, they’re reallynot that picky.”

“But even if Idon’t let them in through the door to bite my neck, I can stillhear them through the walls; it may all be bullshit, but it stillfucking hurts, you know…?” Claudine says with much lessbite.

Phoebus eyes soften.“I know. Trust me, I’ve been where you are. But that’s a storyfor another time, as we’re going to move to step two of our BigMaster Plan:

“Be a betterperson, with better problems.

“Find people whoseopinion you should listen to, who you need to listen to, and willwant to listen to. Think of reading troll comments on YouTube, vsreading a really good, well-reasoned blog-post as the differencebetween gorging on potato chips, vs a nice, baked potato with chivesand gravy.

“One, you canreally savour and enjoy, the other, you just shove into your mouthwithout a second thought—baked potato’s healthier for you, too.”

The two take a quicktrip to a vending machine, before resuming.

“So what’s step3 of the Big Master Plan?” Claudine asks as she settles in with apack of Oreos.

“You removeyourself from your Pharisees,” Phoebus replies as he opens up a bagof nuts. “Get out of their circles and comment threads. Keep yourdistance, and just observe. Watch how they talk, act, and/or screaminsults into the void, hoping someone will take offense and engagethem.

“Then, askyourself: ‘Why?’

“Why do they dothis? Why you specifically? Why do they spend so much of theirprecious time and limited days on this world to bother you?”

Claudine nods. “Andis step four confronting them, now that I know my enemy?”

Phoebus shakes hishead. After swallowing his mouthful of nuts, he says, “No, that’sstep five; four is to go out and compliment people, engage in realconversation, and civil, reasonable, fruitful debate. Acquaintyourself with how people really talk when they want to make aconnection with someone and exchange ideas. See what it’s like whenyou don’t reduce yourself to sound-bites, mean flits, and memes.

“Maybe even havethem face-to-face.

“And this is wherewe get to step five: return to your Pharisees. Ask them, why do theydo what they do? Why the hate? Don’t they have anything betterto do with their lives?

“This iscompletely optional, by the way, but whether or not you do it, everytime you find yourself tempted to reply to a stupid insult onStorybook, just repeat step one.”

To help with this,he teacher her all about humour, “the art of making something funout of terrible, awful things.”

He relates to herhow incredibly tense things were immediately after the Great Uniting.Before, when it was just communications through rifts in reality andthe occasional ambassador, it was all good will, excitement, andbeing on their best behaviours, “like all the different realms weredating each other.”

“The Great Unitingwas all of them getting married and moving in together, and formajority of the people, this is when the reality finally hit themthat they’d have to live with each other, every single day ofthe year, for the rest of our lives.

“Metaphoricallyspeaking, we had to share our bathrooms, see each other when we wokeup in the morning before a shower, pants, and a nice strong pot ofcoffee, and be keenly aware of all our bad habits, our flaws,and whenever we indulged in our, ahem, baser pleasures.

“It was a roughtime, even with the translators to help smooth the transition intoEnglish.

“Sometimes, it’d actually make things worse when atranslator decided to soften, change, or completely cut out the badparts of whatever a Grecian said to the woman from Corona, and theyhappen to have a bilingual friend who could tell them what theyreally meant.

“The honeymoon wasover, and lots of people were having regrets. They were feelinghomesick, and even if they had literally brought home with them,Auradon definitely wasn’t the Kansas. Things were lookinglike we were headed to a divorce, and an ugly one at that.”

“Did things everget to the shouting and breaking dishes level?”

“For some, yes.But that was inevitable and expected when you pulled off something asbig, complicated, and messy as this. The rest, however, we had todefuse before things really got ugly, with the one universallanguage all of us could understand:

“Humour.

“I’ve yet tomeet a culture that doesn’t like to laugh—and if they don’t,Beast and the others passed them over for the final list.

“Using comedy wasthe perfect tool. It defused tensions, it broke the ice, it letpeople find something they had in common so we could start buildingbridges there. And as a wise man once said, ‘If your enemy isdoubled over in laughter, he can’t club you to death.’”

Claudine smirks. “Ibeg to differ, but I get the point…”

Phoebus becomes aguide, a protector (for both external aggressors and Claudine’sworse impulses), and a third regulating force in her life, a properfather figure for her whom she frequently hangs out with every otherSunday to go out and bond, be her chaperon for when she starts datingagain (and seriously, this time), and being one of the people she canalways call when things go wrong.

She also calls him for advice, and often times, when he catches wind of her getting into trouble, offers helpful advice, like this one tacked onto the end of many lengthier pieces: “… But most importantly: don’t punch anyone in the dick, or where they would have one if they’re female.”

The humour helps her get over her natural distrust of authority, seeing as that’s what caused and enforced the Isle, and Maleficent’s guards aren’t saints themselves, or follow much of a “code of honour.” Claudine often timescalls him when she can to ask him to tell a joke. One of them isthis:

“One day, a nunliving in a convent in a forest comes across a hunter trying to bagsome deer. As she gathers herbs and berries, she watches as thehunter nocks his bow, takes aim, and misses.

“’Goddammit, Imissed!’ the hunter cries as his prey gets away.

“’Oh mygoodness, what foul language!’ the nun says to herself. ‘God,please give this man the strength, so he may never take Your name invain ever again.’

“Later, the nun isgetting some water from the river, and she sees the hunter trying tobag some deer again. Again, he nocks his bow, takes aim, and misses.

“’Goddammit, Imissed!’ he cries as his prey gets away yet again.

“’Oh mygoodness, what a horrible man!’ the nun says to herself. ‘God,please show this man why you do not take Your name in vain!’

Suddenly, the skydarkens, clouds roll in, and a bolt of lightning comes shooting downfrom above, striking the ground just beside the hunter!

Then, they hear adeep, rumbling voice echoing all throughout the forest:

“Me-dammit, Imissed!’”

* The Rotten Four’s“forgiveness” at the end of the first movie was not nearly asclean and quick as was portrayed in canon.