#Roosevelt the hydra

[knadire]

Caricaturing some recognizable faces, while both making them monstrous and turning them to stone, made for a really fun challenge! I tried to incorporate the dumb pile of loose rock at the bottom of the mountain into the design too. I think I managed to keep it pretty cohesive so I’m happy enough with it!

Special thanks to Zathulu for the prompt!

You can buy this design on t-shirts, mugs, prints, and plenty of other cool stuff here on Redbubble:

https://www.redbubble.com/i/t-shirt/Rushmore-Hydra-by-Knadire/140472555.M4A2N

You can find the full-res version as well as more drawings like it at the link below:

https://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/knadire/rushmore-hydra

[16woodsequ]

Things People Seem to Forget About Steve Rogers (aka the past is complex)

Things in the future didn't happen in a vacuum, and while Steve missed a lot of stuff while he was in the ice, he would have seen the roots of things like the Civil Rights, Women's Rights and even LGBTQ+ Rights movements in his time.

While I'm sure Steve encountered a lot of people expecting certain right-wing behaviours from him, due to his birth year and the things he missed in the ice, this doesn't mean he would act that way—even right out of the ice.

But first lets take a look at the things Steve missed and see what he did in fact know:

The atom bomb. Steve never saw the atomic fallout, but what did he see? Hydra bombs literally being flown to his home city. There is also a possibility that as a specialty team, he learned about the German Nuclear Program during the war. His unit was tied to the Strategic Science Reserve, so I wouldn't be surprised if between that, and Hydra's bomb initiatives, Steve was well aware of the potential of a bomb threat. I doubt Steve has clearance to know about the Manhattan project, and I think he would be horrified to learn about the impact of the atom bomb on Japan (especially since he essentially thwarted the same thing from happening to New York) but majorly powerful bombs would not surprise him.

• The Cold War. Steve may not have experience the Cold War, but he grew up surrounded by the outcome of the First World War after the Communist take over of Russia. The debates surrounding Communism, Socialism, and Capitalism aren't new. Steve would have grown up with them and would probably be familiar with American pro-capitalist, anti-communist rhetoric. But would he agree?

Here's some things we know about Steve: He's an artist, he grew up during the Depression which was heavily mitigated by socialist measures, he grew up poor, he grew up disabled. As an artist Steve would be well aware of the debates between the political movements, and with his background, and the success of Roosevelt's New Deal reforms, it would not surprise me if Steve leaned more towards the Socialist side of the scale.

All this to say: Steve would not be unfamiliar with the tension between Russia and the USA. Especially since even though they were allies during the war, there were already concerns that the USSR wasn't so much 'liberating' the countries they drove Germany out of, as putting them under new management.

Steve would be familiar with the tensions underlying the Cold War, and his background might lead him to have a critical view of some of the pro-Capitalist propaganda that came out during the Cold War. While I don't think Steve would approve of Russia's methods and the ultimate outcome of Communism there, I don't think he would approve of the Red Scare Witch Hunt that happened in the States either.

• Civil Rights Movement. While Steve missed the major changes that occurred during the 50s and 60s, he would not be unfamiliar with movements for equality. Steve would also not be unaware of the inequality that minorities faced in his country.

For example:

National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) was established in 1909 and is still run today. The NAACP fought and fights against discrimination and advocates for equality.

In the 30s President Roosevelt responded to "to charges that many blacks were the "last hired and first fired," [his administration] instituted changes that enabled people of all races to obtain needed job training and employment. These programs brought public works employment opportunities to African Americans, especially in the North" (Link)

"The first precedent-setting local and state level court cases to desegregate Mexican and African American schooling were decided during [the late 1930s]" (Link)

In 1941 thousands of Black Americans threatened to march on Washington for equal employments rights which pushed Roosevelt to issue an executive order that "opened national defense jobs and other government jobs to all Americans regardless of race, creed, color or national origin." (Link)

The Double Victory or Double V Campaign during the war was an explicit campaign to win the war against fascism in Europe and the war against racism as home.

All this to say, Steve would not be unfamiliar with many of the issues tackled during the Civil Rights Movement of the 50s and 60s.

Not only that, but Steve led a multi-racial special unit during the war during a time of active army segregation. Not only does he have a Black man on his team, but also a Japanese man. This would have most definitely led to backlash from higher command as well as discrimination from other units against Jones and Morita. Steve and the entire Howling Commandos would be explicitly aware of prejudice against two of their members and likely had to fight for them many times.

• Anything space travel. It's true Steve wouldn't know anything about attempts to reach the moon. But there were still several space discoveries he could know about, especially since he and Bucky are clearly interested in scientific discoveries, considering how they went to the Stark Exbo before Bucky shipped out.

Some discoveries:

Hubble's Law: In 1929 Hubble published evidence for an ever expanding universe, and thus provided evidence of the Big Bang theory.

1930: Discovery of Pluto (makes me chuckle to think this is a relatively new discovery for Steve and he wakes up to find it is a dwarf-planet now. You think Millennials are protective of Pluto? I think Steve would be too 😆.)

1937: "the first intimation that most matter in the universe is `dark matter'"

Personally I think Steve would be absolutely amazed by the advances in space travel.

• Women's Rights. Like with Civil Rights, while Steve may have missed the large movements during the 50s and 60s, he was around for the early movements. The 60s movement is called Second Wave Feminism for a reason. This is because there was already many pushes for women equality in Steve's time.

For example:

1920: White women win the right to vote. This means Steve's mother first voted in his lifetime. I feel this alone would make Steve heavily aware of inequality faced by women. (As a side note I feel that Sarah always emphasized voting to Steve since it was such a major development in her lifetime.)

Also in the 20s the Flapper trend rose, along with hemlines. Women's skirts were shorter and they smoked and drank with men. Middle-class and working-class women also worked outside of the home. The 1920s-1930s 'modern' woman is very different from the Victorian vision of a woman in petticoats and skirts.

Early Birth Control movement: Was "initiated by a public health nurse, Margaret Sanger, just as the suffrage drive was nearing its victory. The idea of woman’s right to control her own body, and especially to control her own reproduction and sexuality, added a visionary new dimension to the ideas of women’s emancipation. This movement not only endorsed educating women about existing birth control methods. It also spread the conviction that meaningful freedom for modern women meant they must be able to decide for themselves whether they would become mothers, and when."

1936: A Supreme Court decision declassified birth control information as obscene. Legalised doctor-prescribed contraceptives.

WW2 Watershed: Women serve in the army and work factory jobs. The government establishes universal childcare while women work.

Women also wore pants and form fitting clothes to work in factories. We also see Peggy wearing pants during the last assault on Hydra. While Steve may need to get used to modern fashion, he would already be familiar with the 'morale outrage' over women's clothes in his time, and probably try to manage his surprise in private as well as possible.

• LGBTQ+ Rights. Like with the rest of the equality movements, LGBTQ+ rights movements also started before the late 1900s.

1924: "Society for Human Rights is founded by Henry Gerber in Chicago. The society is the first gay rights organization as well as the oldest documented in America." This organisation was broken up soon after founding due to arrests, but it published "the first American publication for homosexuals, Friendship and Freedom."

In the 1920s and 30s "the gay and lesbian movement started taking shape. Social analysts began rejecting prior medical definitions of "inversion" or "homosexuality" as deviant.

Communities of men and women with same-sex affiliations began to grow in urban areas. Their right to gather in public places such as bars was tenuous, and police raids and harassment were common." (Link)

WW2 Watershed: While many LGBTQ people lived in rural areas or outside 'queer neighbourhoods' the war brought people from all backgrounds together. "As with most young soldiers, many had never left their homes before, and the war provided them an opportunity to find community, camaraderie, and, in some cases, first loves. These new friendships gave gay and lesbian GIs refuge from the hostility that surrounded them and allowed for a distinct subculture to develop within the military."

They still had to hide their identities for fear of persecution and a 'blue discharge', however "Gay and lesbian veterans of World War II became some of the first to fight military discrimination and blue discharges in the years following the war."

It's unclear how much Steve would have known about the gay and lesbian rights movement. But in the comics he has a gay friend Arnie Roth, and there are many meta posts (X X X) about how Steve may have lived in a queer neighbourhood.

And, according to my history professor, gay and lesbian soldiers were often protected by their friends in the army instead of outed. This is not to downplay the discrimination and pain outed veterans faced, but there was a comaraderie and understanding that developed between soldiers that protected many gay soldiers.

• Computer and the internet. The seeds of modern computers began during World War Two. Arguably it began earlier with Ada Lovelace. While technology has changed a lot for Steve, there is a long history of it's development.

Colossus Computer: Kept secret until the 70s, it's unclear if Steve's association with the SSR, Peggy (who was a code breaker before SSR) and Howard, would have led him to know anything about the "the world's first programmable, electronic, digital computer", but we see electric screens and machines being used in Captain America: The First Avenger. So he would know something of those mechanisms.

Also the first American TV was broadcasted in the 1939 World Fair, And since Steve and Bucky are already shown going to a science fair, I believe it is reasonable for Steve to know about the concept of television, though it looks much different in modern day.

• Rise of Neo-Nazis. Steve already saw the rise of fascism in his own country before the war, so while I think he would be horrified and saddened to learn of the Neo-Nazi movement, I don't think he would be surprised.

Because:

Eugenics: A large part of the Nazi campaign, this part of the movement originated and was inspired by the United States Eugenics movement. "It is important to appreciate that within the U.S. and European scientific communities these ideas were not fringe but widely held and taught in universities."

Lobotomies and institutionalisations were part of the treatments for disabled and 'weak-minded' individuals during Steve's time. With Sarah being a nurse it is likely Steve knew of these treatments and more. And as a disabled child of immigrants, I have no doubts Steve brushed up with eugenics beliefs many times.

1939: More than 20,000 people attended a Nazi rally in Madison Square while "[a]bout 100,000 anti-Nazi protesters gathered around the arena in protest".

In the comics Steve canonically has a Jewish friend, Arnie Roth. If he wasn't part of the protests against the Nazi rally, he would have heard about it and known about the rise of antisemitic sentiment in the US before the outbreak of the war.

So Where Does That Leave Us?

Steve has a history of anti-racist behaviour. While he would still have a lot to learn from the Civil Rights Movement and no doubt has unconscious biases he grew up with, he also explicitly builds a multi-racial team that would have led to clashes with systemic racism in the army. This would have inevitably led to him and the Howling Commandos taking an anti-racist stance in protection of their members.

Would Steve say the N-word? Likely not. The N-Word already held negative connotations by the 19th and early-20th century. I doubt Jones would be willing to follow a man who would knowing use the insult. 'Coloured' or 'Negro' were seen as the more acceptable terms. So Steve may use those words at first, instead of 'Black' or 'African-American'. 'Negro' is a controversial term for some Black Americans, so this would be something for him to learn, but he would not purposely by insulting or hurtful. And I believe he would adapt as quickly as possible upon learning.

Steve saw the early steps of many social movements. Given what we know about Steve—artist, disabled, immigrant, poor, raised by a single mom, gay and Jewish friend, potentially lived around queer people, worked with Peggy and smiled when she punched a sexiest, and built a multi-racial team—Steve would not only be aware of the social movements of his time, but he would be happy to learn of the developments after he went into the ice.

While it would take some time for him to learn all the changes that happened, Steve's background would led him to be pleased with the changes in society. This is the opposite of being racist, sexist, and homophobic. Some things might take some adjusting for Steve to get used to, but he is already open-minded and has a frame of reference for many of the social changes that happened.

People sometimes bring up Steve's Catholic upbringing to argue about some beliefs he might have. But while I do think this upbringing would lead to some biases, I think Steve's life experience helped counter, or helped him unlearn some of those biases, even before he hit the ice.

Also, as an Irish-Catholic, Steve would have faced some discrimination of his own. It is most certainly not on the same level as other minorities, and things were better in the 20th century. Being very clear, any discrimination Steve faced for being Irish-Catholic would not be systemic or commonplace like racism. But adding his heritage to the rest of Steve's background helps give us a better idea of why he was already open to social movements like the Civil Rights movement before the ice. And it may have made him already more understanding of LGBTQ+ people, who he may have lived around, even if he grew up being taught certain biases.

Other Things We Forget About Steve

He is quite tech-savvy. While Steve would have a lot to learn, we know he is capable. There are a lot of jokes about his technical know-how in Avengers, but I think he's actually managing very well considering it's probably only been a few weeks or months since he came out of the ice.

Examples:

Deleted scene where we see Steve using a laptop in his apartment. He presses the spacebar to pause a video, which is a keyboard shortcut. So not only can he set up a laptop to watch a video, but he already knows key shortcuts.

Deleted scene where waitress mentions 'wireless'. Steve is confused and thinks she means radio. But I think he actually knows about wi-fi at this point, but probably had never heard it referred to as 'wireless' before. By this point he knows radio is not as common, so his real confusion is why the waitress is offering him 'free radio'. If she had said free wi-fi (the more typical phrase in my opinion) I think he would have understood.

Canon scene of Steve helping Tony fix the Helicarrier engines. This is my favourite evidence because Tony asks Steve to look at the relays and Steve makes a quip that they 'seem to run on some sort of electricity' indicating he is out of his depth. But we never see Tony tell Steve what to do. Steve figures out how to fix the relays himself. Tony is busy with the debris in the rotors and the next thing we see is Steve telling Tony the relays are all good.

Steve is much better at adapting and figuring out technology than we give him credit for. This doesn't mean he won't be anxious or uncomfortable with the sheer amount of stuff he has to learn (especially if everyone keeps making jokes about it to him). But by 2014, it's clear he's already mastered all of it, which is amazing when you think about it, because that's only two years of learning.

Steve is very book smart. In the comics Steve goes to art college, implying he finished high school. Even if he did drop out of high school to work, we know Steve is very smart.

We see him unloading a whole suitcase of books in the barracks before he got the serum.

The mental math is must take to throw the shield at the right angles for it to bounce back is insane.

Steve is also known as a master tactician. So it is clear he has the brains and smarts to run his team during the war. Not only that, but he is not just Captain in name. He actually has that rank, which means he passed the Captain's exam. I also have a feeling he would have needed to pass some kind of evaluation to get the serum in the first place.

We see in Steve's 2014 apartment that his bookshelves are full of history books. Steve is a veracious reader and spends a lot of his time catching up on what he missed. Things he didn't learn or were taught differently growing up would definitely exist, but Steve is actively working to counter that.

Steve would swear. Swearing has been a constant throughout all of history. So too, the backlash against profanity. Even if Steve grew up being told not to swear he would have heard it. And, Steve became a soldier. If he didn't swear before the war, he most definitely picked up some of it then.

I think Captain America isn't supposed to swear, and I think Steve would be aware of this perception of the symbol of him. But I think when Steve is comfortable with people, he would swear. We see in Avengers he doesn't swear, but in Avengers: Age of Ultron, he does.

We joke about Steve and the "Language" line, but I think that line has something to do with Steve's history of being perceived as a symbol and as Captain America since he said it 'just slipped out'. So, while Steve may have been encouraged not to swear growing up, and expected not to swear as Captain America, I fully believe that soldier, veteran, and Irish man Steve Rogers does swear.

Wrap up

I hope you liked this deep dive into Steve's history and character.

I think it can be easy to take the past as a lump sum and view everyone in the past through one lens. We know the past was racist, sexist, and homophobic, so we view everyone from the past that way.

And while it's true things were different back then, people were most definitely fighting for change and aware of the issues. There is also a lot of nuance to the past, and a lot that can be gleaned from what we know about Steve.

It's true that Steve would have a lot to learn when it comes to terminology and specific technology, but I believe Steve's background would prepare him for a lot of the social changes that happened after he went into the ice.

[iceandironbars]

Triskelion

The Triskelion was build along the Potomac river on Theodore Roosevelt Island, Washington DC and served as the headquarter and operating base for SHIELD, and unknowingly, also Hydra.

I think they could've known.

Lemme explain-

Alexander Pierce was recruited by Hydra after the incident in Bogotá where he met Nick Fury. He became Undersecretary of the World Security Council in about 1980.

The triskelion was built/under heavy construction in 1989 as shown in the Ant-Man movies when Hank Pym left SHIELD.

So it is very very likely, that Alexander Pierce, at the time already in high position at both SHIELD and HYDRA, was involved in building/reconstructing the Triskelion.

Why a Triskelion? You will laugh.

Triskelion/triskele symbols are associated with a bunch of different beliefs and attributes, including celtic and greek culture, several paths of history and christianism, going all the way back in time to the iron and bronze age.

Among others the triskelion held and still holds meaning in Nazi/neo-Nazi culture and beliefs, where the symbol was especially used after WW II, because former symbols (swastika) got banned/were too easily recognized and the use was prosecuted. So instead of them, the Triskelion symbol took their place on flags and as a way to recognize them.

Furthermore the triple spiral of the triskel is used within BDSM culture, symbolizing the three roles of top/bottom/switch and also being utilized as a telltale sign among BDSM members to recognize each other without outsiders knowing, wearing triskelion accessories to spot each other.

So. The triskelion was literally named and shaped like a sky high monument to Nationalism/Nazis and BDSM culture.

Everything about that building screamed HYDRA. Are you fucking kidding me-

(NOTE: This is not me dooming or shaming BDSM culture. A lot of aspects and practices used inbBDSM are implemented in HTP storylines. Healthy BDSM is consentual and not tied to brainwashing.✨)

[bedlamsbard]

1200 words written today.  Not Home, but a little break to do something else, if related (but probably won’t make it into the actual story) -- some in-universe non-fiction, which I like doing but haven’t done for a while (and the story I’ve done it for hasn’t been finished yet).  I am usually busy writing, you know, nonfictional nonfiction (my dissertation).  I think part of the problem with the current sequence on Home is that it was originally written off the previous version of Home 7 (since I did a major rewrite of one scene), and even though I knew when IW as writing it I was going to change that scene, I didn’t know how I was going to change it, so the emotions are all wrong.  So -- more rewrites.  Plus I still need to do voice check rewatches.

Snippet from...uh, whatever this is, it’s in my files as “Cap book excerpts” but it is set in the Home universe.

It is well-known today that both comics and radio show eventually produced highly-fictionalized versions of Rogers’s disappearance, both – like the event itself – in an airplane and over the ocean, leaving his ultimate fate ambiguous.  The Captain America Adventure Program broadcast its last episode in April 1946, a full year after Rogers’s disappearance; Timely Comics, however, produced a special issue purported to be “the last fight of Captain America” that was published in late March 1945, interrupting its usual schedule, which continued to produce Captain America comics until 1949.  All later-published adventures take place before the special issue; Timely’s Captain America never leaves the war.

In early April 1945, Timely published another special issue, the first of six titled The Return of Captain America.  Its circulation was low, interrupted by the death of President Roosevelt, and it was never widely known.  It remains unclear whether the other five issues were ever published, as no copies have ever come to light, but the plot was briefly summarized in a letter from writer Stan Lee to New York senator Evelyn Brandt, Rogers’s original political patron and sponsor of the first Captain America USO tour.

 The first issue of The Return of Captain America takes up immediately where the previous special issue left off, with the “secret Nazi death plane” (Hydra’s existence would not be declassified for another fifty years) crashing into the North Sea. A figure on a small fishing boat watches the crash, then sets off towards it.  Meanwhile, Captain America fights his way free of the wreckage and surfaces in the middle of the ocean, spotting the fishing boat and striking out towards it.  The captain of the boat pulls him aboard and is revealed to be a beautiful blonde woman in men’s clothing, whom Rogers is immediately smitten with.  Their first meeting is immediately interrupted by Nazi fighters searching for the crashed plane, however; the woman pulls out a machine gun and returns fire, causing the pilots of the attacking Messerschmitts to parachute out.  They land on the deck of the fishing boat and engage in hand to hand combat with Rogers and the woman, interspersed by Rogers’s musings about how beautiful and skilled she is. With the Nazis taken care of, Rogers finally asks who she is, and she reveals her identity: Natasha Romanoff, agent of the American intelligence organization known colloquially as “the Lodge” (Timely’s fictionalized version of the Office of Strategic Services).

[cxptaincxrter]

[ COVER ] / Steve

( answered // @ascnsion )

—- ☆ PEGGY was taken by surprise. She cursed under her breath as Steve pushed her back. It was not due to his sudden movement, but at herself for not noticing the enemy. As she looked up, heat pricked her cheeks. Seeing Steve again had not been easy, the same could be said for him with her.

Her heart, however, sang a different story. It hummed against his chest and the urge to pull him closer was stronger than any desire she had for him in the past. It was not a want. But a need. Peggy closed her eyes, Damn this to Hell, you are on a mission. Nothing more.

Without thought, her manicured nails barely curled at his chest. She was trained to be the best soldier and she knew in her soul that she could not be Steve. He was a good man and trusted his empathy, rather than a direct order. She wished she could be him in that way, completely. Peggy refused to ignore her moments of following the path of his moral compass. It was the only true thing she knew.

"Steve..." Peggy whispered, hesitant to look at his eyes directly. "Do you forgive me for taking the serum? They...We were lost without you. I was told I was the closet person to lead on with your morality to keep HYDRA away."

The words were vinegar for her. Peggy would always be disgusted by the lie she and the SSR led Steve to believe. "I know this is an absolutely ridiculous time to ask for forgiveness and I apologize."

A quiet and pitiful laugh left her. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I'm making things about us. Rather than the mission at hand."

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 8.17 (after 1900)

1914 – World War I: Battle of Stallupönen: The German army of General Hermann von François defeats the Russian force commanded by Paul von Rennenkampf near modern-day Nesterov, Russia. 1915 – Jewish American Leo Frank is lynched in Marietta, Georgia, USA after his death sentence is commuted by Governor John Slaton. 1916 – World War I: Romania signs a secret treaty with the Entente Powers. According to the treaty, Romania agreed to join the war on the Allied side. 1918 – Bolshevik revolutionary leader Moisei Uritsky is assassinated. 1942 – World War II: U.S. Marines raid the Japanese-held Pacific island of Makin. 1943 – World War II: The U.S. Eighth Air Force suffers the loss of 60 bombers on the Schweinfurt–Regensburg mission. 1943 – World War II: The U.S. Seventh Army under General George S. Patton arrives in Messina, Italy, followed several hours later by the British 8th Army under Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery, thus completing the Allied conquest of Sicily. 1943 – World War II: First Québec Conference of Winston Churchill, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and William Lyon Mackenzie King begins. 1943 – World War II: The Royal Air Force begins Operation Hydra, the first air raid of the Operation Crossbow strategic bombing campaign against Germany's V-weapon program. 1945 – Sukarno and Mohammad Hatta proclaim the independence of Indonesia, igniting the Indonesian National Revolution against the Dutch Empire. 1945 – The novella Animal Farm by George Orwell is first published. 1945 – Evacuation of Manchukuo: At Talitzou by the Sino-Korean border, Puyi, then the Kangde Emperor of Manchukuo, formally renounces the imperial throne, dissolves the state, and cedes its territory to the Republic of China. 1947 – The Radcliffe Line, the border between the Dominions of India and Pakistan, is revealed. 1949 – The 6.7 Ms  Karlıova earthquake shakes eastern Turkey with a maximum Mercalli intensity of X (Extreme), leaving 320–450 dead. 1953 – First meeting of Narcotics Anonymous takes place, in Southern California. 1958 – Pioneer 0, America's first attempt at lunar orbit, is launched using the first Thor-Able rocket and fails. Notable as one of the first attempted launches beyond Earth orbit by any country. 1959 – Quake Lake is formed by the magnitude 7.2 1959 Hebgen Lake earthquake near Hebgen Lake in Montana. 1960 – Aeroflot Flight 036 crashes in Soviet Ukraine, killing 34. 1962 – Peter Fechter is shot and bleeds to death while trying to cross the new Berlin Wall. 1969 – Category 5 Hurricane Camille hits the U.S. Gulf Coast, killing 256 and causing $1.42 billion in damage. 1970 – Venera program: Venera 7 launched. It will later become the first spacecraft to successfully transmit data from the surface of another planet (Venus). 1977 – The Soviet icebreaker Arktika becomes the first surface ship to reach the North Pole. 1978 – Double Eagle II becomes first balloon to cross the Atlantic Ocean when it lands in Miserey, France near Paris, 137 hours after leaving Presque Isle, Maine. 1985 – The 1985–86 Hormel strike begins in Austin, Minnesota. 1991 – Strathfield massacre: In Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, taxi driver Wade Frankum shoots seven people and injures six others before turning the gun on himself. 1999 – The 7.6 Mw  İzmit earthquake shakes northwestern Turkey with a maximum Mercalli intensity of IX (Violent), leaving 17,118–17,127 dead and 43,953–50,000 injured. 2004 – The National Assembly of Serbia unanimously adopts new state symbols for Serbia: Bože pravde becomes the new anthem and the coat of arms is adopted for the whole country. 2005 – The first forced evacuation of settlers, as part of Israeli disengagement from Gaza, starts. 2008 – American swimmer Michael Phelps becomes the first person to win eight gold medals at one Olympic Games. 2009 – An accident at the Sayano-Shushenskaya Dam in Khakassia, Russia, kills 75 and shuts down the hydroelectric power station, leading to widespread power failure in the local area.

[dimespin]

Sometimes discord conversations lead to things coming into existence. Have a sort of hydra. The snake bodies are completely separate but this is one entity.

[ladyeliot]

It’s been a long, long time 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never knew what fate had in store for you, as if it was testing what it had offered you one day it took away from you the next. It was almost four years after Steve gave himself up to save the world, but you had never given up hope of being with him again.

Warnings: Angst. Disappearance. Fluff ending.

Word count: 2883

A/N: Captain America First Avenger / Avengers Endgame. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Song: It’s been a long, long time - Harry James

1949.

The rumours of his possible return were fading with time, but hopes were not falling.

Nearly four years had passed since the end of the Second World War, and the consequences were soon felt worldwide, especially by those who had survived that tragic period. You had been present from start to finish, being a potent participant in the covert operations linking the US and the UK. Although you had not been on the front line fighting as a soldier, you had been on the front line commanding the actions they would take. In 1939 you became a member of the British Royal Military, then a recommendation from a superior officer led to you joining the Special Operations Executive, a British spy agency, changing your destiny, causing MI5 to contact you, and then you were seconded to the Strategic Scientific Reserve, a top-secret Allied war agency during World War II, created by President Roosevelt. Too many things happened in a single year, too many things that would change the course of your history, but the most important was yet to happen.

In 1943 you were assigned to Colonel Chester Phillips' training base, known as Camp Lehigh, where you were assigned to supervise the candidate division of Project Renaissance, the project that changed everything. Project Renaissance was a highly secret project run by the United States Government. Its aim was to create super soldiers to be deployed during World War II against the Axis powers, thus having a great advantage in strategic warfare, however things didn't go as planned and they only had one success, a young man from Brooklyn named Steve Rogers.

You could never deny that you didn't notice him the first moment you saw him, he instantly caught your attention in two ways. The first of them was his physical shape, he stood out for his small stature compared to the other cadets, and his physical appearance looked sickly, although his medical record didn't say anything about it. On the other hand, the other aspect that impressed and inspired you was his courage and endurance to face each of the tests they had to pass, as well as his cunning, all of which won you over, as well as the generals of the project, as he was selected for the Renaissance project. The time you spent together at Camp Leigh made you realise the determination and humility he possessed, traits that the other members of the group, or any other man you had met before, possessed only to a slight degree.

The day the experiment was carried out, that is, the injection of the Super Soldier serum into Steve was another turning point in your life, the young man who went into that machine was not the same as the one who would come out of it, at least for everyone present, a human being went in and a super soldier came out, although for you he was still the same Steve Rogers with 30 centimetres more height and greater muscle mass. From then on he became the secret weapon that would overthrow Hitler, as the leader of the project, Dr. Erskine, was killed which meant that Steve was the only one of his kind.

You would have liked to have been able to say that your relationship was moving towards a more effective environment, but you were really living in a period of war, plus your character did not easily fit in with the word love, it never really did, or rather, you had never shown any interest in any man. You were rude, you had suffered enough harassment in your job, a job by and for men, to become insensitive in several cases. You were selective with your friends and also with the people you could trust, that's why every time you felt any affection for someone you stopped it, and that's what happened with Steve at the beginning.

Frankly, there were not too many moments to show your affection for each other, nor to enrich it, but every occasion that brought you together, there were certain feelings in the air that were never expressed in words. You encouraged him to be more than a lab rat or a fair hand for the soldiers at the front, you also helped him from your position with the missions, which after his triumph in rescuing the soldiers of the 107th infantry, were assigned to him. You complemented each other, you understood each other in many aspects that no one had ever understood, you had faith in him and he in you, that is why deep inside you were waiting for the day when the war would end to discover what it would be like to be able to dance with him without any worries around you, but it was not that simple.

As if the universe itself was mocking you, everything it had offered you was taken away in a breath. Even if you had never extrapolated it, your heart shrank every time he marched on a mission in enemy territory, you used to find yourself behind the controls of the base of operations that commanded his missions waiting for his voice or news from him to indicate what the situation was, but the last time what you saw was different. It was all a consequence of your attack on HYDRA HQ, you had worked out a strategy to take out their leader, the Red Skull, Steve was inside and you later came in with the assault guard and became part of the operation. Things had gone a little shaky during the operation, as the Red Skull managed to gain access to a ship and almost escaped from the place, but at that moment you appeared as if you were a breath of air together with Colonel Chester Phillips to offer him the last chance for Steve to finish him off and gain access to the inside of the ship that was about to escape, but not before sharing your first and last kiss. Every day you remember the last words you said to him in person "Go get him." before watching him jump into the plane and disappear into the snowy mountains.

After that, the ship became a direct path to death unbeknownst to you. A few hours later, from the command post, you managed to maintain a direct connection with the ship, specifically with Steve who was still inside it.

"Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?" you all heard from the intercom.

"Steve, is that you? Are you alright?" your heart raced as it did every time he was away from you on a mission.

"Y/N! Schmidt's dead.

That brought a breath of relief that neither of you had experienced for a long time, you could see a little light at the end of the tunnel that was getting closer and closer to you, but what you heard next put the light out again.

"What about the plane?" you asked still worried about his situation.

"That's a little bit tougher to explain," Steve's words were choppy.

It really was complicated, the plane was loaded with explosive devices and was clearly headed for New York City, that meant there was only one possibility and you all knew what it was. You tried to talk him out of it, to find a new solution, but time was running out.

"Y/N, this is my choice," a lump formed in your throat at those words. "Y/N?"

"I'm here," you managed to say with watery eyes and a hand to your lips.

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance," you heard through the intercom, as a sharp gust of air rushed in between his words.

"Alright," you hid a soft sob. "A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."

"You got it," he said firmly, making it seem real that he was going to show up there on Saturday.

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance," a wistful smile appeared on your face at his words.

"I'll show you how. Just be there," you said almost begging him.

"We'll have the band play somethin' slow," Steve picked up the pace of his words, "I'd hate to step on your...

That was the last time you heard his voice, the line connecting the intercom to Steve went static with a soft continuous noise, that's when the tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

"Steve? Steve? Steve?"

Of course, life puts us all to the test, we believe we need redemption for the acts committed in the past, that often makes us lose hope that better times will come.  Almost four years have passed since those last events, since you shared your first and last kiss with your Captain America, since you heard his last words and since you felt that thing called love. Now your life had been turned upside down, you had dreamed for too long of meeting him, of seeing his face again and not only through those war films, but your life went on and you couldn't keep yourself stuck thinking about him, that's why you had decided to leave the Strategic Scientific Reserve and go into a new project with Howard Stark, called S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was unusual for the month of January to have that warm morning out, although it was actually quite comforting as it had brightened up your day, and even when you got home you opted to start cooking to the rhythm of whatever song was playing on the radio, which was unusual for you. The open windows allowed the sun's rays to stream into the living room, offering that homely touch that the little house in the middle of a residential neighbourhood lacked. Due to your countless projects and missions in the SSR you had not been able to enjoy home life as much as you would have liked, although it was really your decision, that house was too quiet and too big for you alone, although the radio offered you the company you sometimes needed.

As if it were a special event you had brought out the table linen and arranged the table in the parlour to eat there for the first time, normally you used the table in the kitchen, for you did not waste too much time on your meals, but this day was a new beginning, a new year, a good time to work out new habits. You opted to open a bottle of wine, which had been a gift from your dear friend Howard Stark, and poured yourself a glass while you waited for the chicken to make its acquaintance in the oven. The rhythmic melody of Nat King Cole along with your glass of wine lifted spirits that hadn't been this high for some time.

"Love is all that I can give to you," you intoned as you walked around the kitchen.

The midday seemed to be going smoothly, until a crashing noise from the front door brought you to a screeching halt. "Ogh, Mrs. Foster," you said to yourself before taking a sip from your glass of wine to fill your spirits. Mrs Foster was the neighbour from across the street who was always knocking on your door whenever she could, hoping to whisper about the other neighbours and glean as much information about you as possible, the funny thing was that she always barged in at the most inopportune times.

"I'm coming!" you exclaimed, taking off your apron and placing it on the counter. "I'm there!"

When you reached the front door you took five seconds to exhale the air inside you, position your dress correctly, take another breath, roll your eyes and expose a wide grin before you very quickly lowered the door handle. We've been talking before about all the turning points that changed your life and shaped your destiny, okay, that was one of them, maybe the most important one of all, the one that set the rest of your life on track.

"Hello Mrs. Fos-!"

Your voice disappeared, your vocal cords seemed to break at that moment, your wide, false smile also vanished as if it had never been on your face, your eyes seemed to have no eyelids and your lungs ran out of air, leaving you breathless. What you saw when you opened that door was your whole life, every moment appeared in front of you as if it were a frame. They say that happens when you are about to die, but it happened to you when the person you had loved had returned from the dead and was prostrate before you. You couldn't tell whether your reaction was the most humane or what someone else would have done in your place because you had never met anyone who had. Soldiers sometimes took long months to return home after the war ended, but it had taken Steve almost four years to do so.

Perhaps there had been hundreds or thousands of times you had imagined that moment, and now you didn't know what to do, your limbs were stiff, you were grateful for it or you would have collapsed in those moments. You kept holding the doorknob tightly, while he stood there on your porch staring at you, not knowing what to do. They were the longest minutes of your whole life, or maybe they were only a few seconds, you didn't know how time worked in those moments, but that didn't matter, your emotions recovered when you looked into his eyes, those blue eyes that you had dreamed of so many nights and they were watery, that was the sign that told you that this was not a dream, it was real life.

The air opened again and passed through your lungs in the form of a gasp, you shared the wateriness of his eyes in yours and in a moment you were wrapped in his arms. You could feel him again, or rather you could feel him around you for the first time. His arms were around your back bringing your body closer to his.

"You're... here." you murmured against his chest almost afraid that your words would make him disappear again.

"I'm home," he whispered against your forehead before kissing it and pulling away to look at your face.

It really was him, you noticed the odd changed feature, as if the years had passed him by more quickly, but there was no doubt that it was Steve. He placed his hands on your cheeks cradling your face, that sensation made you close your eyes as you placed your hands on his. Gingerly, you felt his breath collide against you and the longing for his lips that had haunted you for so many years came to an end.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

"No, you're home," you murmured, taking his hand and bringing his palm to your lips.

The open windows of the living room let out the melody of the radio, as if it were one of those Hollywood feature films with its own soundtrack. For a few long minutes you stood there on the porch of your house, oblivious to everything around you, oblivious to curious stares or if the chicken was burning in the oven, there was nothing more relevant than the two of you.

After a few minutes without taking your eyes off each other you took his hand and went inside your home, there were no unnecessary questions, no comments that could break the moment, your gazes were pleased to observe each other and as if your thoughts were connected and the person in charge of playing the songs on the radio knew it, one of Steve's favourite songs began to play. Harry James' voice came into the room, giving you the moment you had wanted for four years in your case, but for Steve it had been many more. 

“Never thought that you would be

Standing here so close to me

There's so much I feel that I should say

But words can wait until some other day”

His arm found position around your waist and your face found position on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat work to the rhythm of the melody, you could never have imagined ever feeling like this again, you would have made a pact with the devil on too many occasions to feel it. It was so unreal that you had to lift your face from his chest to look at his face again, to find out if it really was Steve in front of you, it was. 

“Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

Haven't felt like this, my dear

Since I can't remember when

It’s been a long, long time”

Life had offered you a new opportunity to enjoy it together, and you were never going to miss it.

“You'll never know how many dreams

I've dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time”

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[swan-of-sunrise]

Spellbinding (Chapter Two)

Summary: Loki and (Y/N)’s friendship continues to grow but is soon threatened by a dangerous enemy and a life-changing secret.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Brief scene of verbal harassment

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Two April 14th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

As Loki walked down the hall to the conference room, he thought about how he’d much rather be in his room or the library reading his new book. (Y/N) had picked Pride and Prejudice for him the last time he visited the library, insisting that he’d love the witty banter between Elizabeth Bennet and Mister Darcy. She had proven to be right yet again; Loki could honestly say that Jane Austen was indeed a very clever woman and that (Y/N) had a true talent for recommending literature.

His thoughts drifted back to the first time he’d laid eyes on the trainee librarian almost two months ago. After complaining to Tony about the inadequate number of interesting books in his library, Steve had interrupted whatever insult the billionaire was about to utter and told Loki about public libraries, specifically the New York Public Library several blocks down the street from the tower. Needless to say, Loki was hesitant to visit; the super soldier was one of the only Avengers he could actually stand to be around most of the time, but he had a nasty habit of overlooking the more annoying traits of Midgardians. But in utter desperation for any interesting reading material, he finally caved and walked down the street to the library, feeling utterly ridiculous in the Midgardian clothes the others had purchased for him. However, his discomfort vanished the moment he stepped into the library; unlike the bustling street outside, the building was practically empty, and it was packed to the brim with enormous bookshelves.

In a trance, he strolled down the aisles and couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer number of books the Midgardians had written; it almost rivaled the palace library on Asgard. But when he turned down another aisle, he stopped cold in his tracks; standing mere feet away and busy placing books onto one of the shelves was a woman, and she was the fairest he’d ever laid eyes on. Her (Y/H/C) hair was streaked with faint strands of gold, and her (Y/E/C) eyes glimmered behind a pair of glasses that rested on her nose; he smiled a little when she had to push them back up after they had slid down. Her clothing was simple and modest, a pair of dark jeans and a light purple sweater with a pair of flats, but their plain-ness only served to accentuate her beautiful features.

When she placed a book on the shelf, she smiled brightly and looked up, but whatever she noticed made her frown. A look of determination came across her features and she reached for the top shelf, but it was far too high for her. Instead of giving up, she stood on her toes to give her more height, but as a result, she lost her balance and stumbled. Breaking out of his trance, Loki rushed forward and grabbed her elbows to catch her from falling. The moment her striking (Y/E/C) eyes met his, his face reddened, his heartbeat quickened and he decided that Midgardian public libraries weren’t all that bad. The woman had introduced herself as (Y/N), and after helping her finish her task of rearranging the bookshelf, he was recommended A Midsummer Night’s Dream and given a library card. He was quickly charmed by how enthusiastic she was about the play and he decided that a return trip to the library would be quite necessary.

And that’s how their friendship began. Every Friday, he would visit the library, discuss with her whichever novel or play he’d just read and leave with a new one. She had insights on each and every one, offering him explanations of plot or speculations of characterization, even background information on the author or the period it was set in, and he listened to her intently before adding his own views and opinions to the conversation. She was kind and intelligent for a Midgardian, and he quickly found himself looking forward to their weekly meetings. He couldn’t deny that another reason he was drawn to her was because she didn’t look at him with fear or hatred in her eyes. To her, he was simply a friend who enjoyed discussing literature with her every Friday, not the villainous Asgardian who previously tried to take over her planet. For some strange reason, she had yet to realize his true identity, which was why he had continued bend the truth and tell her that he was just a civilian consultant and not one of ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’. There was one Friday, however, when he seriously questioned whether he should tell her the truth or not…

Loki hurried up the steps of the library, humming an Asgardian tune under his breath as he climbed. The week had been a long and trying one; Director Fury had announced that they were planning on infiltrating several Hydra databases, Thor had broken nearly all the kitchen appliances with Mjolnir out of frustration after attempting to cook and on top of everything, Loki was forced to go on a mission with Tony, the most infuriating Midgardian he’d ever met. So, to say that he was excited to see his new friend was an understatement; he missed seeing her wonderful (Y/E/C) eyes sparkle as they looked at him, her bright smile as she spoke so passionately about literature, her infectious laughter whenever he told her a joke…though he would never admit it out loud, he was slowly beginning to develop a soft spot for the kind trainee librarian. And although he worried about how she would react to learning his true identity, he believed deep down that she was different from other Midgardians but the only way to be sure of her reaction was to go ahead and tell her about himself. He entered the library, his mind already made up, and headed towards the bookshelves to look for her when he noticed she wasn’t sitting at her desk. As he was leaving the biography section, two voices made him stop in his tracks.

“Aw, c’mon sweetie, just one date!”

“I already told you, sir, no thank you.”

Loki peeked around the bookcase and saw (Y/N), her back to him as she shelved books and shied away from a handsome but shifty-looking man standing too close to her and staring hungrily. Rage filled him but just as he was about to step in, the man spoke again.

“I���ll treat you to a real nice meal, and maybe after we could have a little fun; I’m the best you’ll ever have, sweet cheeks. C’mon, are you sayin’ no ‘cause I’m ugly or somethin’?”

(Y/N) looked at him with a mock expression of confusion. “Facially, or are we talking about your personality? I’m confused so you’ll have to clarify yourself for me.” Loki smirked to himself, amused at her witty comeback. “Now, I suggest that you check out a book to expand that non-existent brain of yours and leave before I call the police and have them teach you all about manners as they arrest you for stalking all the female employees here.”

The man’s jaw clenched in anger. “Wouldn’t wanna go out with a bitch like you anyways.” He stormed off down the aisle and she resumed her work.

Careful not to be seen by (Y/N), Loki gritted his teeth and followed the man as he entered the men’s restroom. He tapped the man’s shoulder and when he turned around, punched him square in the jaw. The man toppled to the floor, clutching his face and moaning. Grabbing him tightly by the throat, Loki lifted him up easily and slammed him hard against the wall, causing the tiles behind him to crack. “If I ever hear of you returning to this library or harassing that woman again, I will not hesitate in tracking you down and disemboweling you.” To prove his point, he allowed his eyes to flash Jotun-red before returning to their usual green. “Understand?” Instead of answering, the terrified man’s eyes rolled back and he fainted. “Insignificant ant.” Loki threw him back to the ground roughly and left the restroom to search for (Y/N). She had moved on to the sciences, her usual gentle smile on her face as she worked. “Lady (Y/N)!”

She turned to him and her smile widened. “Hi Loki! You’re late, you know. I almost thought you weren’t going to come in today.”

Loki only grinned. “What, and miss our weekly talk? Unthinkable!” She laughed and continued shelving. “I…I actually arrived several minutes ago and witnessed you dealing with that pig. You have an astounding talent for witty insults, Lady (Y/N), I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, I’ve learned over the years that they’re the quickest way to make men like him go away.”

He felt his knees weaken when she grinned at him, attracted to the mischievous glint in her usually innocent eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, however, as he considered her relaxed demeanor. “If you don’t mind me asking, how is it that you stay so positive after being harassed and insulted like that? Does it not bother you?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment before responding. “Well…when I was little, my aunt used to always tell me this one quote from Eleanor Roosevelt; it goes something like ‘No one can make you feel inferior without your consent’. So, whenever someone tries to put me down like that man just did, I think of that quote and try to remember that life’s too short to let people believe that they can control me.” Pushing her glasses up her nose, she directed her attention to the book in his hand. “So, did you enjoy the book?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, very much!” Loki exclaimed, hoping that she wouldn’t notice how he stared at her. “Although, I’m not sure Tolkien needed to spend five pages describing a forest.”

She laughed again. “That’s one of the most common criticisms of Tolkien, you know. But you have to admit, his descriptions…” She continued talking, but Loki was only half-listening. She had surprised him with her answer to his question, and as he watched her talk animatedly about the merits of over-describing action and locations in novels, he knew that he couldn’t bring himself to tell her about his true identity. Not just because of how she would possibly react, but because it would almost certainly put her in danger. And he couldn’t purposefully put the most kindhearted woman he’d ever met in harm’s way, not for anything. With his mind made up, he just watched and listened to her speak with rapt attention and barely-concealed admiration.

“Loki!” He was drawn out of his thoughts by his brother, who hurried to walk alongside him. “I called to you several times, is there something on your mind that’s making you hard of hearing?”

“Nothing at all, brother, except the desire to return to my room and finish my book,” Loki snapped back. Although he’d never admit it out loud, Loki was happy that his relationship with Thor was different now that he wasn’t living in his brother’s shadow. The Avengers had allowed him to join their team to redeem himself and in turn he’d slowly earned their trust, finally making him feel just as respected as Thor for once in his life. And I suppose it’s rather nice to have a brother again, he thought begrudgingly, although he can still be as infuriating as ever.

Thor only chuckled. “Are you sure that’s the only thing on your mind?” When Loki shot him a questioning look, Thor grinned. “I know that you’re thinking about your Lady (Y/N). When do I finally get to meet the woman who’s enchanted my brother?”

Groaning, Loki pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and avoided his brother’s eyes. “I deeply regret telling you about her, you know. As I’ve said before, she and I are merely friends, Thor, nothing more. We have intellectual discussions about literature, something you could partake in and benefit from if you ever picked up a book in your life.”

“Whatever you say, Loki,” Still chuckling, Thor led them into the conference room and they took their seats at the table. The only other Avenger there was Steve since the rest of the team was on various missions or conducting experiments in the lab. “Did Fury mention why he’s called us here, Rogers?”

Steve shook his head, his arms crossed over his broad chest and a worried look on his face. “Nope, he didn’t say anything. His text sounded pretty serious, though.” They all seemed to have thought the same thing given that they were all dressed for battle; Thor and Loki in their Asgardian armor and Steve in his red, white and blue uniform complete with his vibranium shield.

Before Loki could speak, the director walked in with files in his hands. “Okay, now that everyone’s here we can begin. The three of you are gonna go on an extraction mission here in the city. As you know, our intelligence uncovered some Hydra files recently and they include one of their next targets. This is a sensitive one ‘cause we don’t know exactly when they’re gonna make their move, but we do know it’ll be today so you’ll need to leave immediately.” Director Fury handed each of them a file and continued. “And because we’re on a tight schedule, we don’t know why they’re targeting her yet but we’ll be working on finding out the answer to that question while you’re gone.”

Loki took the file and opened it, but as soon as he saw the woman’s picture, he froze. It was (Y/N), and the photograph was taken from her library identification card she usually wore clipped to her belt. “I believe I may know why she’s being targeted.” When the rest of the group looked at him with confusion, he continued, “This woman is Lady (Y/N), my friend who works at the library down the street. I meet her there every Friday afternoon.”

“Let’s go.” Steve stood quickly and everyone else followed. “I’ll meet you two there.” Slinging his shield over his back, he jogged to the elevators that led to the entrance floor below.

Fear clenched at Loki’s heart as he and Thor hurried up the tower’s emergency stairwell to the protruding helipad; he never intended (Y/N) to become a target of Hydra and had taken every precautionary measure to ensure her safety. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her because of him. “The library is west of the tower and three blocks down. I’ll go in first and meet you behind the building with her, all right?”

Thor nodded, a determined look on his face as he kicked open the door to the helipad. “No harm will come to her, brother, I promise.”

Without another word, Loki grabbed his brother’s arm as he swung his hammer and they shot into the air. Moments later, they landed in the alley alongside the library. Please let her be safe, he thought as he ran around the building and dashed up the front steps. Loki swiftly entered the building, ignoring all the strange looks he received because of his armor, and hurried over to the bookshelves. (Y/N) was in the philosophy section, so engrossed in her shelving that she didn’t notice him approach her. “Lady (Y/N)!”

She looked up from her cart and smiled. “Loki! Why are you wearing-?”

“Lady (Y/N),” He interrupted. “This is going to sound completely insane, but any moment now, some very dangerous men will come here and attempt to abduct you.” When she was about to interrupt, he held her shoulders and bent down so that he was eye-level with her. “This isn’t a joke, Lady (Y/N), I assure you, and I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, but we need to leave now. Do you trust me?”

(Y/N)’s widened eyes considered his for a moment before she slowly nodded. “Y-yes, Loki, I trust you.”

“All right, we need to get to the-” Before he could finish, the library door’s slammed open and they could hear what sounded like a several armed men enter as the rest of the patrons screamed and took cover. He cursed under his breath. “We need to hurry; is there another way out of here?”

“This way!” Snapping out of her shock, (Y/N) quickly led him through the rows of bookcases to a door at the back of the room, but before they could go through, they were suddenly surrounded by eight Hydra agents. The sight of the men pointing their guns in (Y/N)’s direction filled Loki with a rage unlike any he’d ever felt before; the only thing keeping him from slaughtering them where they stood was the woman standing beside him. As (Y/N) gasped in fear, Loki stepped in front of her and thrust out his hands, causing their guns to melt in their hands and transform into snakes; attention was drawn from the two of them as the men fell into a panic and attempted to untangle the serpents from their arms.

A moment later, Steve jumped into the middle of the fighting and slammed his shield into one man’s face. “Loki, get her out of here, I’ve got this!” He skillfully dodged an attack and threw his shield, knocking two of the men into unconsciousness before flying back onto his left arm.

Giving the super soldier a nod, Loki took (Y/N)’s hand and quickly led her through the door, which opened into a long hallway. “Watch out!”

He spun around as an armed man came sprinting towards them down the hallway, already pulling a gun out of its holster as he ran. Before he could raise his hand and use his magic or daggers to defend them, (Y/N) raised her own hands and the man was suddenly slammed against the wall by a purple force and knocked unconscious. Loki looked at her in shock, an emotion which was mirrored on her face as well. She looked down at her trembling hands and back up at him before her knees buckled and her eyes rolled back in her head; Loki lunged forward and caught her in his arms before her limp body could hit the floor. She doesn’t know she possesses magic, he thought in astonishment. Cradling her protectively in his arms, he hurried down the hall and kicked a door open with his foot, revealing the alley where his brother was waiting impatiently beside a cluster of unconscious Hydra agents.

“Is she all right?” Thor asked, but all Loki could do was give him a hopeless look. “I’ll take her back to the tower to Banner, you stay here and help Rogers.” Loki opened his mouth to protest, but Thor interrupted. “She’ll be safe with me, Loki, but Rogers needs assistance!”

Giving his brother a curt nod, he carefully placed (Y/N)’s unconscious form into Thor’s arms. “Take care of her, Thor.” He watched as Thor swung Mjolnir and shot into the sky, flying towards the Avengers tower with (Y/N) secure in his arms. The moment they left his vision, he hurried back inside and helped Steve defeat the men and the reinforcements they brought along. All he could think of while he fought, however, was (Y/N)’s sickly face, the incredible power she used to protect him and the fact that she seemed to have no knowledge of that power. He had a nagging suspicion about what that power meant, but he prayed to the Norns he was wrong; if he wasn’t, then it meant that (Y/N)’s world was about to be turned upside down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: Thank you for reading! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy! 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Three-Part One

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular​ @itscomplicatedx​ @0-artemis​ @vivloki​

[superherocorps]

Oh my god i just realized something!!

Remember on 704 when Sousa is ambushed by Hydra in the train?

They had him, Daniel Sousa was supposed to die in the train all along! He couldn’t have survived that if the team hadn’t showed up when they did.

Which also means that Daniel could have never made it to Stark, and he couldn’t have died in the pool of the Roosevelt Hotel.

But he did, because the team was there!!

Which means that the team saves Daniel in every timeline allowing him to “die” in the hotel which eventually makes it into the history books.

Daniel Sousa never dies! He’s always saved by the team and they help to fake his death. In. Every. Single. Timeline.

[ryder616]

The Agents on Election Day (/Night/the Day after/Week/Month?!)

Coulson would be making impassioned speeches about how progress can feel hard and look ugly especially when is being made while spending most of his quasiparental energy curbing Daisy’s instinct to take matters into her own hands:

“The whole system is rigged, it’s not cheating if you’re cheating to correct the cheating”

“Daisy.”

“You know how many of those machines ‘malfuctioned’ last time?”

“Daisy..”

“They’re probably all Hydra, so...”

“Daisy...”

“I’m just going to take over his account for a bit, it’s not even hacking, I bet his password is like maga1234 or something. It’d be fun!”

“... Daisy.”

Elena would be nodding along with Daisy and sarcastically ask “when is Canada invading to export you democracy?”

Meanwhile FitzSimmons would be doing the (annoying, I know) European routine, tut-tutting sympathetically while not so secretely thinking American politics (and healthcare, and gun laws) are insane. “Bloody madness” Fitz would utter a few times, while Simmons would detail a comparative analysis of political systems quoting several well researched studies. May or Elena would shut them up asking about Brexit.

Mack and May would choose to focus on all the minority candidates winning their races, something that might have felt very out of reach when they were young, and all the reports of Black, Native, Latin and AAPI voters making a difference.

Sousa would be too appalled by who’s currently president - his last one was Eisenhower and he lived through the Roosevelt years, I think it’s not a stretch to say that he’d find him...wanting - to have much energy left to devote to the race.

“So, Fascism is back” he’d quietly say to himself, recalling his conversation with Daisy. Who would miss it, her mind on different matters:

"Really, I could so fix and end this... at least Georgia?”

[theshipsfirstmate]

Agents of SHIELD Fic: Tell Me I Got Here at the Right Time

finale and post-finale dousy spec. What if they had to fully reset the timeline before they could take it back? What if Daisy was left out of that decision?

A/N: Genuinely don’t know where this came from, other than I can’t seem to stop writing for these two. Also, I want to state for the record that I love Peggy Carter and shipped peggysous, but these two just have my heart and inspiration rn.

Title from “Here at the Right Time” by Josh Ritter.

Tell Me I Got Here at the Right Time (AO3 - wc: 4378)

They think she can’t hear them. In truth, Daisy wishes they were right.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea.” Simmons has regained a good bit of her sparkle since Fitz’s return, but the worry in her voice is what’s most evident now.

“I know. I’m not sure I do either.” There’s a muffled sound after Fitz’s response that Daisy guesses is Simmons swatting at his arm.

“It’s your idea!” she hisses. “What if-“

“Don’t even say it,” her husband answers. “And it’s not my idea. You know that.”

They choose that moment to step back outside, where Daisy’s wringing the nerves out of her hands, hoping to twist them into even more resolve before she steps into the makeshift portal. She knows Fitz has run over a hundred successful tests, has seen over half of them first-hand. But still.

He’s the one of the pair who meets her eyes first, so she hones in before he can try to talk her out of it again. “You promised.”

“I shouldn’t have,” he admits. He’s probably right. But he knows what it means to her, and they all know she would have found another way if he’d refused to help.

“But you did.”

“Yes, I did.” Fitz grimaces, hazarding a glance at his wife, who’s rubbing anxiously at her arms, and then sighs. “Daisy, are you really sure? If something happens to you…”

“I’m sure.” And she is. Danger be damned. “I’m going. I have to.”

She’s had more than enough of time travel. They all have. She’d be happy to never jump again for the rest of her life. But when she regained consciousness after that final battle with Malick and realized the sacrifices that had been made to defeat the Chronicoms for good, she knew immediately that she would be making at least one more trip.

They’d had to do it, the team swore, though they all had a hard time looking her in the eye. Everything, and everyone, had to go back to its rightful place before they could steal the timestream back from Sybil. Daisy didn’t fault them, but her heart broke down to pieces just the same when she woke up to find an empty chair at the foot of her recovery bed.

“He didn’t want to go. He made us promise to tell you that,” Simmons had told her tearfully, needlessly. She already knew.

It took her less than a month to come up with the plan, but a bit longer to convince the rest of the team -- and Daisy still thought of them as a team, scattered though they were now to their own concerns. 

What sealed it for everyone else was a newly-discovered footnote from an historical S.H.I.E.L.D. ledger. 

“According to public records, Daniel Sousa still died at the Hotel Roosevelt on July 22, 1955, like he was supposed to,” she’d explained on their video conference, even though the words burned in her throat. “But not long after, an underground faction of early S.H.I.E.L.D. agents started to assemble in the Los Angeles office. They organized in secret, and fought against the shadier HYDRA factions, every time one of its slimy snake heads popped out of the ground. They didn’t always win. But they did their best.”

“We know Peggy Carter was one of their leaders,” Daisy told the group. “But there’s no solid information on any of the others.”

“You think Agent Sousa faked his death again. On his own.” Simmons had been the one to put her pieces together, to say out loud the hope that was stuck in her throat. 

“We gave him the blueprint,” Daisy nodded. None among them doubted his devotion to rooting out HYDRA, but she knew hope was part of what had her convinced, and she promised she’d weigh their approval before she’d risk her life. “It would be just like him to keep fighting.”

Fitz had mastered the tech in his time away, and had, of course, immediately started constructing a prototype in his backyard before she’d even thought to ask, much to Simmons’ chagrin. As it stands in modern-day Manchester, it looks like a simple phone booth -- a nerdy tribute Daisy’s dying to tease him about -- but he can calibrate it to any coordinates and time in the known universe. And she knows where she needs to be.

“What if he really is dead?” May had been the one to ask the questions no one else dared, though even she had waited for a private phone call to bring them up. “Or what if something happened, and he doesn’t remember you?”

“Then I’ll know for sure,” she’d answered, in part working to convince herself. There was perhaps a fate worse than being forgotten, in this case. “And even if…. even if he doesn’t want to come back, I’ll at least get to say a proper goodbye.”

It was clear everyone had their doubts, but even the most stalwart member of her found family couldn’t deny her that much. 

“You’d better come back.” Simmons is tearing up again, and Daisy definitely cannot handle that right now. “Your goddaughter will be waiting.”

That’s been the hardest part of any of this. It had been a surprise when Fitz returned, just moments after they’d successfully banished the Chronicoms back to their own space and time. It had been a bigger surprise that he’d appeared with a pigtailed toddler in his arms, who’d immediately wriggled out of his grasp and wrapped herself familiarly around Simmons’ legs.

Their daughter was two, almost three, when Simmons forced herself to forget her, but she was brilliant, of course, and somehow made of even stronger stuff than her parents. She powered through her mother’s initial shock and dismay and overwhelming guilt, helping to mend all of their hearts in the process. (Fitz had also dutifully shown her pictures of her S.H.I.E.L.D. family, so she recognized “Auntie May,” “Big Mack” and the rest -- and had a special spot in her heart for “Aunt Dede,” which Daisy did not take for granted.) 

“I’ll be back,” she promised. “You tell her to read Rocky a story every night for me.” 

She and Simmons had stayed up the night before -- after putting the little girl to bed alongside her favorite cuddly toy -- talking through all of the possible contingencies. Almost none of them were worse than never knowing, never getting any sort of closure, her friend had agreed. Almost.

“You remember the order, yeah?”

“Yes, Fitz,” Daisy answers dutifully, trying not to roll her eyes. They’ve been over this fifty times, and drilled it in person at least ten. It’s more time and practice than they ever used to get in the field, on the fly. She’s itching to get a move on. “Launch, exit, cloak the device with the watch…”

“Then, when you’re ready to come back, de-cloak, enter and launch. It should bring you right back here.”

“No matter what,” Simmons chimes in, casting her a look that says much more than her simple reminder. “24 hours is the limit.”

“I know,” Daisy nods, nervously smoothing down her period-appropriate ensemble. “I just need to see him.”

Fitz and Simmons nod solemnly in unison -- if anyone can understand it, it’s them -- and with that, Daisy steps into the booth, preprogrammed with her coordinates, and hits the button on her modified wristwatch.

The jolt of the jump feels familiar, which she takes as a good sign, and when she steps out of the booth, a quick survey of her surroundings allows her to exhale a sigh of relief as she cloaks the pod.

Fitz had plotted out an alley next to the old SSR office in Los Angeles. They know from de-classified S.H.I.E.L.D. documents that the underground corps started in a hidden basement office of the same building, so that’s Daisy’s best guess as to a starting point. It’s a few weeks after his “death,” and if she knows Sousa, he barely missed a day of work.

She double-checks the lobby just to make sure she’s at the right spot, and then sneaks back around the side to slide in through a basement window well. She lands in some kind of storage room, full of file folders and cobwebs, and makes her way to the cluttered, dingy hallway, where, behind a closed, unmarked door, she hears a familiar voice that makes her breath catch in her throat.

“They need to keep thinking I’m dead,” he’s explaining to someone. But he’s not, and the relief is enough to make her brace herself on the doorframe. “And we need to find out what exactly Stark knows about what I was carrying, and more importantly, what he knows about who might be after it.”

Daisy takes a slow, deep breath and knocks softly on the door — and three things happen. First, she hears the conversation go silent, saved for a concerned murmur. Second, Sousa opens the door and she sees him for the first time in months, handsomely square as ever in a dark grey suit and pale green dress shirt. And third, she scans the room and realizes there’s a non-zero chance that she’s about to cry in front of Peggy Carter.

“Daisy?” Sousa’s eyes go wide when he sees her, and it’s hard to be concerned about comporting herself in the presence of the legendary founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. when she’s wondering if his heart is stuttering in his chest the same way as her own.

It hits her in that moment, how much she’s boxed away the memory of him, how much she refused to let herself mourn his loss. He’s right there in front of her -- the man who’d carried her out of Malick’s torture chamber on a bum leg and kept vigil as she healed, the man who’d pushed her towards closure with her mother when she needed it most, the man who had appeared in her life and upended it simply by being kind and loyal and supportive in a way that she’s never known another person to be -- and god, she’s missed him. 

“Agent Sousa,” she grins, even as traitorous tears threaten to cloud her vision. “Good to see you again.”

He stares at her, slack-jawed for a long moment, saying only her name again, but softer, and that’s when she realizes she’s frozen too, helpless to move at the consoling sight of him. They only startle from their reverie when the third person in the room primly clears her throat.

“Pardon my manners.” Daisy moves past Sousa, hyper-aware of all the places she brushes against him, to finally break his disbelieving gaze and extend her hand. “Agent Daisy Johnson.”

“She’s CIA,” Sousa adds after her, and they both watch Agent Carter bristle a little, so he tacks on: “One of the good ones.”

“Well if Daniel vouches for you, it much be true,” the woman stands and straightens her skirt, still eying Daisy suspiciously as she reaches out her own hand to shake. “Peggy Carter.”

“Of course I know who you are.” This earns Daisy a small frown, so she scrambles to cover. “From Daniel… er, Sousa -- he’s told me all about the great work you guys are doing here.”

Another frown, and a glance at the man behind her. Daisy realizes after the fact that it would make a better compliment if the work they were doing here wasn’t supposed to be top secret.

“Are you alright?” Sousa’s brain starts catching up, and he reaches out, fingertips brushing against her waist, before pulling his hands back just as suddenly. “Is everything okay? How are you….here?”

“I…” Daisy hazards another awkward glance at Agent Carter, who’s looking at her like she just stepped out of a spaceship, which, honestly? Not far off. “It’s kind of a complicated story.”

“I’ll give you two a moment,” the other woman offers, her accent masking politeness over her obvious concern. “Then, Daniel, if you-”

“I know,” he answers, though he never takes his eyes off Daisy. “Of course, I-- thank you, we’ll just be a minute.”

“An honor to meet you, truly,” Daisy stutters as Peggy freakin’ Carter exits with a slightly disapproving eyebrow raised in their direction. Simmons is going to kill her.

Sousa closes the door and turns back to face her slowly, almost like he’s preparing himself to find an empty room. But the second his eyes meet hers, the paralyzing effects of surprise and awkwardness fade and Daisy rushes forward into his arms. Burying her face in his neck and catching the scent of his aftershave, she feels herself relax for the first time in a long time.

“Daisy.” He whispers her name, still sounding just as awed, but this time, it’s for her alone. “I thought… is this real?”

“Yes,” she nods into his shoulder, trying not to let him notice that the word comes out on a sob. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry they made you go. Sorry I wasn’t there to stop them. Sorry there wasn’t time to tell you. Like everything else when it comes to him, the apology is so much and not enough, all at once.

“Don’t be sorry.” He pulls back a little, takes her face in his hands and swipes his thumbs at the tears that are smudging her eyes. “Don’t cry. Please.”

“I woke up and you were gone.” She didn't let herself cry about it at the time, the combination of shock and other distractions keeping her emotions occupied. But every time she came to, alone in that healing chamber, was a fresh wave of heartbreak, and they’re all returning to her now, on a tide of tears. “And I--”

“I didn’t want to go,” Sousa interrupts, reaching down to squeeze her hands in his.

She just nods, still taking in the sight of him. “I know.”

“Why— how are you here now?” His brow furrows and she knows exactly where he’s gone, from shock to worry. “Is everything okay?”

It’s the kind concern in his eyes, the way he’s still steady and supportive, even when she’s dropped in from the future, unannounced, pulling the rug out from under him once again. (If she’s totally honest, it’s also the set of his jaw and the memory of how his chest felt beneath her palms.) Daisy lets herself give in, reaching up for his shirt collar in a familiar movement, and pulls him down to capture his lips. Just like before, he pauses for a second and then gives chase, kissing her back with a passion she thought she’d been exaggerating in her memories.

“Sorry,” she whispers again when they pause for a breath, even though this time she’s really not.

“Please don’t be sorry for that,” he grins, blinking his eyes open slowly. She remembers that soft look of wonder, from a stolen moment when there wasn’t enough time to bask in it. 

“I just- We did that once before,” she admits, “back in the time loops. But you didn’t remember.” 

“Well, now I’m extra glad you came back, if only to remind me,” he grins, and it makes her want to kiss him all over again. So she does. But he keeps this one quick, pulling back to ask again, “How did you come back? What’s the plan here?”

Daisy doesn’t quite realize what he’s asking at first.

“Fitz knocked off the Chronicom tech and built his own pod,” she answers, fluttering her hand to the side before bringing it back to his lapel. “I’ve got 24 hours before I’ve got to bring it back.”

There’s a question that goes along with her explanation, but she can’t find the words to ask it just yet, not when the answer could break what’s left of her heart. Instead, she tells him the first truth at the front of her mind. “I just missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he answers. His hands are warm around her waist and she has the fleeting thought that it’s been worth it, even if this is all she gets. And then, because she didn’t catch his meaning the first time, because some part of him knows some part of her better than anyone ever has, he just... asks. 

“So, can I come back?”

Daisy goes light-headed with possibility. It can’t be this easy. “What?”

“Can I come back with you?” She watches for a joke in his eyes but it’s the same old earnest Sousa. “Will they let me? Will it… end the world?”

“No. I mean, yes. Are you sure?” She’s not even sure if her words are forming coherent sentences. Every relationship in her life has been fraught with conflict and heartbreak, for as long as she can remember -- and this one she just gets to have?

“Yes, I’m sure.” Now the teasing smile makes a hint of an appearance. “I’ve been wondering if you’d come back for me since the minute I woke up back in my old house.” 

That confession hits her sideways, just like it had when she asked if he was the type who liked picking other people back up when they fell, and he’d looked into her eyes -- and even deeper -- and answered: “Not for everyone.” 

She knows what the longing has been like for her. But she had so much more time with it than he did. They never even came close to defining this...thing, this flint of friction that gives off sparks between them, and still, he’s just been here. Waiting.

“You had goodbyes you wanted to say, loose ends,” she recalls, trying to clear the whiplash from her mind. The last thing she wants is for him to take the leap and regret it halfway down. 

She shuffles a small step back, but unwilling to completely lose contact, takes one of his hands in her own, studying it intently as she offers him the easy out.

“Daisy.” Sousa lets out a little humorless laugh. “You know they had to knock me out to send me back, right?” 

She didn’t know that, actually, and her fists start to clench in an instinctive response. But he eases them open, drawing her gently back towards him, and she follows.

“My loose ends aren’t in the past anymore,” he says softly, rubbing a thumb over the pulse point at her wrist. “I came back and I made my peace -- said what I needed to say to the people that needed to hear it.”

He glances towards at the door -- she’d known that one of those conversations was always meant for Peggy Carter -- and then back at her, and she believes him. Somehow she trusted him from the beginning, even when she had little more than his name and photo on an old S.H.I.E.L.D. file, and she trusts him now more than ever, even as a tiny bit of skepticism is still warring with her hopeful heart.

“But your team. The underground S.H.I.E.L.D. force. That’s you, isn’t it? You and Carter?”

“It is. And a few others. They’re gonna do good work, I know it.” She nods a confirmation. They will. “But I built it so I can lift right out. They’re a well-oiled machine already. Plus, everyone already figures my days are numbered.” 

He’s been planning for this. For her. Of all the possible outcomes, she hadn’t even thought to hope for one where he was waiting with his bags packed, metaphorical or otherwise. He’s a constant surprise and it makes her heart leap to dangerous places every time.

“I went back to work because I’m devoted to the cause,” Sousa continues, “but if you think I haven’t spent every free moment trying to figure a way back to you, thinking about what I’d do if I saw you again...”

“Daniel...” There isn’t much more to say but his name, and even that’s difficult when her throat is thick with emotion. 

“Unless you don’t want me to.” He saves her again, breaking the heavy moment by teasing her some more.

“Of course I do,” Daisy answers, swiping under her eyes. “But I’m gonna ask if you're sure a couple hundred more times.”

He nods, lips pursed. “My answer won’t change.”

“Okay, but we do have some time,” she reminds him with a nervous laugh, even as she’s starting to have faith in his certainty. “You want to sleep on it? Get some dinner or something?”

He grins even wider. “Yeah, you know, pizza sounds good. Your place? In about sixty years?”

She rolls her eyes at him, achingly grateful for even the hint of their familiar dynamic amid all this intensity. “All right, all right, old man. I get it.”

“Do you?” 

“Yeah, I do.” She reaches up to soothe her thumb over the crinkle beside his eye, another tiny detail she’s spent the last few months missing. “But you can keep reminding me.”

He catches her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm and promising, “I can do that.”

She takes a deep breath as he gathers his suit jacket from the back of the chair. Here goes everything. It’s not until they turn to leave that she realizes. 

“Do you need to…”

He’s a little solemn when he catches her meaning, but she’s surprised when it doesn’t make her worry. “Give me just a moment with Peggy, and I’ll meet you…”

“In the alleyway,” she finishes. “I came in through the storage room.”

He nods, and tugs her close for a hard and fast kiss to her lips that has her still dazed when she grasps for the door handle. 

To Agent Carter’s credit, she only looks slightly impatient when Daisy exits, pursing her lips as she brushes past her in the narrow hallway, unsure of what else to do or say. There’s an echoing silence that borders on uncomfortable, and then the other woman speaks. 

“He’s been different lately,” she offers softly, like a secret, before she’s close enough for Sousa to hear, and Daisy stops in her tracks. 

“I thought it was the obvious. I got the sense he was weighing his days after nearly dying. But he’s been waiting for you, hasn’t he?”

Daisy nods, sheepishly, turning back to meet eyes that impossibly seem to already know what’s about to happen. “To be fair,” she answers, truthfully, “I was waiting for him, too.”

The S.H.I.E.L.D. founder gives her a small smile then, and to her surprise, it’s one she recognizes from the mirror. It’s genuine, but sad, and Daisy feels it even deeper because she knows that an affection for the kind and loyal man waiting on them both isn’t the only emotional baggage they have in common. (A very small, very selfish part of her counts her blessings, though, that the other woman hadn’t been able to love Sousa the way he deserves.)

She nods in return, and makes her way back down the hallway, back through the cluttered room, back out to the alley, and back to where she first landed, where she ends up standing, waiting, twisting her hands nervously for the second time in just a few hours. But before she even has long enough to start worry that he’s having second thoughts, Daniel rounds the corner with a suitcase in hand and a grin on his face she wants to remember forever.

“You’re ready?” she asks. He nods, never breaking his stride or her gaze. “You’re sure?”

“I told you,” he assures, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “my answer’s not changing.”

“And Carter?” She takes his hand to step him back against the building, away from where their portal might appear. It’s only partially a distraction from an nerves that might be lingering on her face.

“She understands.” Sousa laces their fingers together and squeezes. “And I may have told her there’s a chance I could pop back around someday, if she needs me.”

He’s not totally out of line. Fitz had warned that the tech was to be used for emergencies only, but Simmons will surely convince him that anything involving Peggy Carter constitutes a proper emergency.

“She doesn’t seem like someone who would be very supportive of a team member jumping ship mid-mission,” Daisy observes, aiming for casual, as she uncloaks the device, which is, thankfully, right where she left it. “Pun not intended.”

“She’s not, usually. But I told her the truth.” A spark of fear lights inside her chest, but he puts it out immediately. “Just enough of it. I trust her.”

“Well, if there’s anyone who can keep a secret...”

Daniel ducks his head in agreement and adds softly, “And then... I asked her if there was anything she wouldn’t do, to have more time.” 

There it is again, that cymbal crash of her heart that takes her breath away. Daisy’s never known a man like this, and while she knows the future is always uncertain, she’s grateful to the abstract laws of time, science, fate and whatever else that she doesn’t have to lose him to the past.

“So, where are we headed?” Daniel follows her into the booth with a hand at the small of her back. It’s a bit of a tighter fit than her arrival trip, but neither of them mind in the slightest.

“If the wind is right, English countryside, 2020,” she answers with a grin. It’s a bit of luck that threading her arms around his neck allows her to kiss him and press the button on her wrist at the same time.

“We’re going home, Agent Sousa.”

[the-great-imagines-of-1812]

Through The Years (Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark! Reader) Pt. 2

A/N: Enjoy! As always, any feedback is appreciated! Let me know if you want to be tagged! And YES, Bucky makes his first appearance in this chapter. ;)

tags: @the-romanian-is-bae @a-girl-who-loves-disney

tw: catcalling

~~~~~~~~~~~~

LONDON ENGLAND, 1943

“Alright. Howard, Y/N. Welcome to London. In this camp, resides the 107th and 108th infantry regiments. You two will be able to set up your stuff over...”

Peggy thinks for  a second. “Ah! There. It’s Perfect.” She pointed  to a more secluded area of the camp, where you and Howard would be able to set up camp and experiment.

“Thanks, Peggy. We’ll see you later?” You said, turning to Peggy, as Howard unloaded he last of you guys’ things off the plane.

She hugs you. “Of course you will. I’ve got to go check on Steve. He’s got another USO performance tonight, one in Edinburgh, another in Glasgow, and we continue up North. It might be some time before you see me, sadly.”

You frowned. “Well, make sure to write. I couldn’t bear not hearing from you.” 

She gave you a smile and said her goodbyes as she wandered off, looking for Steve. 

“Y/N/N, care to help me with the luggage?” Howard said, already carrying a few suitcases. 

“Of course, Howwie.” As you turned to grab the suitcase the suitcase was already up in the air. 

Frozen in shock you stood there, hoping no one would see. 

“Y/N!! What was that?”

You nervously turned to Howard, ringing your hands. “What was was what, Howwie?” 

He gave you a look. “You know what I’m talking about. We’ll discuss this later.”

You sighed and grabbed the suitcase, a rucksack and another suitcase, following Howard.

~~~~~~~~

After you and Howard set up camp on the clearing, he immediately went out, in search of General Philips.

You sighed. You should’ve told him since the start.

To clear your head, you decided to take a walk a round the camp, to simply familiarize yourself with the place. To clear your head too, that would be nice. 

The men you saw all around the camp were pretty much the same. Drinking, sobbing, sleeping. Oh, and don’t forget the body odor. 

This was not what you were used to, but these men are fighting a war. The least you could do is give them a break. 

“Heyyyyyy pretty lady! C’mere.” you heard a drunker soldier slur out.

You turned and crossed your arms, scoffing. “Excuse me?”

“He said c’mere, lady!” another soldier said from behind him. 

“You is the only lady here, we could pass you around, darlin’ there’s enough of us to go around” the first soldier said.

“No thank you sir, I have enough self-respect and dignity to not be seen with the likes of you.”

The second soldier, his friend, spoke up again. “What’re ya doin’ here anyway? Are’nt you supposed to be in the kitchen?”

You were starting to become scared. “I’m an engineer.  I have no excuse for being in the kitchen.”

“All ladies belong in-”

“HEY! Leave her alone!” the soldier was cut off by a voice. You turned to see, and it was a tall, blue eyed soldier, with hazel-colored hair, and fair skin.

He was tall, he stood straight he wanted to be seen. His crystal blue eyes pierced through the room, but were focused on you. He most definitely stood out from the rest. 

Then it hit you. This man was the mysterious stranger you had seen at the Stark expo a couple of months back. 

He grabbed the soldier by his shirt. “That’s no way to treat a lady. Show some goddamn respect.” he put the soldier down and turned to you.

“I apologize on behalf of my fellow soldier, Miss.” he said, kissing your hand.

You smiled at him, a blush covering your cheeks. “I-It’s ok. I’m used to it, I guess.”

He looked you straight in the eyes this time. “No one should be used to it, Man or Woman.”

“You crossed your arms and looked up at him again; him being much taller. “You got a name, soldier?, or are you just going to remain my knight in shining armor?’

He chuckles. Damn, that laugh could brighten anyone’s day. “I’d rather remain your knight in shining armor, gorgeous. But if ya really wanna know, the name is James Buchanan Barnes. Friends call me Bucky.”

“We’re friends, now?”

“I’d be surprised if we weren’t, doll-face. I think Everyone needs a friend right now.”

He pauses to scan your face. 

“How about it darlin’, you got a name?”

“Y/N. But friends call me Y/N/N.”

By this time, him and you were already walking off to the edge of the forest, not to far where he first found you. You bot sat down on a log.

“Y/N, that’s it? No last name?” he said, in a teasing tone.

You laughed. “Y/N Stark. I know what you’re going to say. I do run Stark Industries with my brother.”

“More like he runs it with you, doll-face. I was at the expo this year. I’ve seen your work. You have a talent.”

You chuckle and blush, breaking eye contact with him. “You are a charmer, Barnes. I got to give you that.”

“Ya know before I left for the war, they used to call me ‘the heart breaker of Brooklyn’” 

“No way Barnes. A guy like you? No way.”

“Yes way.”

“I don’t believe you Barnes” you feigned shock.

“You better!”

“Uh, well, how about you tell me how you became this gorgeous genius engineer, huh?”

You let out a laugh, not holding back this time. “I attended  a boarding school in London, St-martin-the-fields high school, strictly for girls, which is were i met Peggy. I later went on, against my parents wishes, I got a P.H.D in engineering from NYU; graduated early.”

He seems to look at your with pure wonder in his eyes. “Impressive.What after?”

“I became a professor of Engineering at Columbia College, also in New York. My parents didn’t like this, so they sort-of threw me out.”

“I am so sorry doll. No one deserves that, no matter how big their aspirations may be.” he said, laying his hand over yours. 

“The teaching position didn’t last long though, that’s when I lost it and moved in with Howard. And a few years back, we started what today is known as Stark Industries.”

“You continue to impress me with every passing second. What’re you doing on an army camp like this?”

“The SSR was re-tasked by President Roosevelt. We’re bringing the fight to HYDRA. Anyway, enough about me, sport. You practically know me already.”

He told you all about his childhood in Brooklyn, saving Steve from trouble at every corner. 

“Wait, wait. hold the phone. You know Steve, Barnes?”

“Y-yeah, I do. Since we were kids. How do YOU know him?” 

You let out a hearty chuckle. “That’s a story for another time.”

You two talked for hours upon hours, until the night sky got even darker, and all the soldiers had retreated to their tents. He told you about his childhood with Steve, how his mother would scold him as a child for stealing a cookie from the jar, his cherry red bike when he was a teen. He told you about his sister Rebecca, and how you two would be best friends, if you ever had the chance to meet. 

“Y/N! Where are you?” 

This startled you, and you jumped into Bucky’s arms. “Woah there, dollface, I haven’t even taken you out dancin’ yet-”

“Hands of my sister!” Howard came running and pulled you away from Bucky, shoving you behind him.

“Howard I’m fine!”

“Woah there Mr. Stark. It wasn’t-”

“If I EVER see you with her AGAIN, I will fight you on SIGHT. Let’s go, Y/N/N”

You mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Bucky as Howard dragged away from him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets ‘It’s okay’ with a dopey smile as he walked back to his tent.

He just hoped he would see you again. Maybe he’d take you dancing.

~~~~~~~~

Howard dragged you by the hand all the way to a bigger tent, one that wasn’t his and yours. “Where are we, Howwie?” 

“I’m taking you to see someone. Because there’s something your not telling me. How long have you been lying to me about the serum? huh? how long has it been affecting you?” He said, face morphing from anger to sadness to worry.

“Ever since... I guess there’s no use in lying to you.”

“Please, sis, I just want to help you.”

“I guess- ever since Steve received the serum? When I was shot? My best guess is that the bullet went through a tube of the serum, then into my ribs.” 

You paused.

“Ever since then, when I’m alone, I concentrate on something, let’s say a book, I can lift it with my mind. My brain just concentrates, it moves. I tell it to move forward, it does so. It’s at my command if I just focus on it. I guess that with the suitcase you told me to lift, it was just- an accident.”

Howard sighed and let go of your hand. “What you have, dear sister, what you have gained, is telekinesis is a  superpower where the user has an ability to move things at will. At it’s highest levels, dismantle the fabrics of the universe.”

“Howard, I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. I’m here to help you. Come with me.”

You both walked into the tent, were General Philips was siting at his desk.

“Howard, Y/N. Finally I wan’t to talk to you both. Howard as told me about the situation of yours, Y/N, your secret is safe with me.”

“What is it, General?”

“I want you to join the 107th.”

“General! I beg your pardon-”

“Allow me to talk, Ms. Stark. The regiment needs someone like you. I know you’ve expressed your interest in the war efforts-”

“But General, the men, my brother- you can’t expect me to use telekinesis in my service-”

“You’ll still be able to work with Howard. Don’t worry about the men. They need someone to keep them in line. Without your powers. Only if and when i tell you to.”

You clutched Howard’s arm. You had never been this nervous.

The General stands up from his desk to pick up a box, which he opens, to reveal a army uniform with pins on it, including three stars, identifying your rank. 

“What I’m saying is this: Welcome to the 107th infantry regiment, Lieutenant General Y/N Stark.”

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: feedback is appreciated! :)

- Talya

[ljones41]

I’ve began a re-watch of “AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D.” Season Seven.  And boy, did I spot some bloopers.  Major blooper here. Major blooper. According to the second episode, (7.02) “Know Your Onions”, a young Wilfred Malick was delivering components of the Super Soldier Serum that would end up being used on Johann Schmidt, Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes.  What the fuck?

When Season Seven first aired, the MCU Wiki page made it clear that the old HYDRA organization never met any of those who were under the HYDRA organization created by Johann Schmidt in 1935 until AFTER WORLD WAR II. The Chronicoms should have went after Johann Schmidt before 1935, not a young Wilfred Malick. It was Schmidt’s HYDRA organization that led Franklin D. Roosevelt  to create the S.S.R.  “Freddy” Malick and the old HYDRA organization had no role in this.  And Malick was NEVER the sole leader of HYDRA. In fact, he had originally died two years before Arnim Zola.

And if anyone uses the “alternate timeline” to excuse these bloopers, I will ignore it . . . completely.  Because that it just plain sloppiness to me.

[barnesandco]

Nikah: January

Story Masterlist

Nikah: noun, Arabic, meaning the contract of marriage.

Bucky marries Peter’s former tutor because her student visa’s about to expire and the government isn’t granting her a green card. Can she find a way to permanent residence by marriage, and if so, will it be at the cost of their hearts?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of grief, war.

A/N: Written under the Arranged/Accidental Marriage trope for @mermaidxatxheart ‘s writing challenge. This story will update on weekends, with two chapters each on Saturdays and Sundays. Tags are open, and for now I’m only tagging those on my permanent list. You can always let me know if you want to be added or taken off of something. I look forward to your comments and hope that you enjoy.

Bucky Barnes did not plan to start the new year as a married man. Not until three weeks ago, when this entire ordeal began. Yet here he is, a gold band on his prosthetic hand that is buried beneath the pillow under his head, while he watches his near-stranger bride sleep next to him. They’ve met in person a grand total of two times, the second being the marriage ceremony itself. Ceremony is an overstatement, he thinks. They eloped. Oh, if his ma could see him now. Bruised and war-torn, reborn from Hydra’s ashes with the marvel of Wakandan technology, married to a woman he hardly knows. And it’s all Peter Parker’s fault.

It had started with his silence. Slowly but surely, the youngest Avenger, known for his jubilant enthusiasm, had become unnervingly quiet. 

One week, and they begin to notice. Curious look and additional encouragements to involve him.

Two weeks, and they suspect he misses Tony more than usual. It’s been several months, but the grief comes and goes in waves. Laughter can turn quickly into tears. Bucky’s seen them smile at a joke and turn to the head of the table, or a corner of the room, looking for Tony or Nat’s response respectively, only for the smile to fall at the proof of their absence. They give him time, Sam gives him a talk, and Pepper, an invitation to lunch at the lakehouse.

Three weeks, and they return from a multiple-week mission and brake outside the kitchen like eavesdropping teenagers. The actual teenagers - Peter and Wanda - are inside discussing something. By the distress in Peter’s voice, it’s whatever’s been bothering him recently.

“-but if the student visa doesn’t expire for another year, why is she applying already?” Wanda’s asking from the stove, stirring a Sokovian soup. Peter puts a Tupperware container of extra chopped vegetables in the fridge. Leans on the marble countertop, sighing.

“She suspected that they might reject her. He PhD ends in June so she’s applying for a green card instead, but immigration policies are stricter now. Especially for people from Muslim countries, and she’s Pakistani. It isn’t fair,” He reiterates, tastes the soup. Anything to distract from his shaking hands. Wanda looks on worriedly. “I just mean- like- she’s been living here for almost ten years. She just wants to be a permanent resident. If they don’t let her, she’ll have to go back. She doesn’t want to, but she’ll have to,” He concludes, opening the tap and initiating clean-up.

“And she’s… important… to you,” Wanda states, looking over her shoulder, giving him room to elaborate.

“She helped me with English class and lit in middle school. She was there when Ben died, when Tony died, she’s just been constant, y’know?” He explains. Wanda puts down the wooden spoon, rests a hand on the counter and absorbs her friend’s morose expression.

“So now what?”

“There’s no way they’ll extend her visa. She’ll probably try again for a green card, but I don’t think it’ll work. If she had a steady job, she could apply for a work visa, but she’s freelance. The only other thing I can think of is marriage to a US citizen.”

He hopes it works. The marriage. Green card by family, by marriage, by him vouching for her. The ring is constricting around his finger, a heavy weight reminding of the sanctity of marriage, and how he’s breaching it. He wonders if she feels the same way. At present, she appears unperturbed, lying on her side facing him. The hand bearing the ring is in front of her face, resting on the pillow like a crown on its pedestal. The scarce daylight, just cloudy watercolor, tip-toes through the gap in his blackout curtains, casting a thing stream of moonlight across her face. Snow day.

They had barely made it to his apartment last night before the blizzard hit. She had been quiet then, even more so than now, when he can at least hear her sleep-steady breaths escape the cage built by the pink pillows of her lips. Eyelashes like snowflakes against the bags under her eyes. 

The mildly disturbing nature of his actions occurs to him, and he decides to stop. Gets out of bed and tenses when she shifts.  The duvet slides down, revealing her white night-gown. Bucky moves, steps as soft and sneaky as fog on the carpet, to her side. Lifts the duvet up to her ching, grazing her silk-clad shoulder in the process. A mumble, and he holds his breath, but thankfully, she stays asleep.

Shutting his - their - bedroom door behind him, he makes for the bathroom first. The shower is scalding hot, and his skin pinks quickly. The Wakandan shampoo is running out. He makes a note to ask Shuri for more, and thinks about what American item to send in return. Dunkin’ Donuts, perhaps. 

Coconut goes well with the raspberry scent of his new wife’s body wash, already embedded in the walls because she takes evening showers. Claims they help her sleep. It didn’t help last night, however, because she tossed and turned throughout, only coming to rest around three. Bucky didn’t fare any better, eyes shutting an hour later. 

He rinses his hair, the condensation from the steam on his arm washing off. Resumes his morning rituals - conditioner, shower gel, rinse, dry off. As he’s towelling himself dry, he takes in the evidence of her presence once again. The bottle of lotion on the vanity, the make-up removal wipes in the cabinet next to his shaving things. Like this is all perfectly normal.

It is, of course, everything but. You don’t marry someone you don’t know. The gravity of his actions tug on his stomach as he walks past the couch he offered to sleep on. He hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable, but she had vehemently refused to kick him out of his own bed. Said she would rather sleep in the snow outside. He’s sure she would have, too, given the excuse, and she would’ve melted the snow into steaming puddles around her, anger coming off red-hot like the sun’s rage.

He lights the stove and fetches the ingredients necessary for pancakes. Opens a recipe on his tablet. Never made them on his own a day in his life - Sam’s are better, but he’ll never tell him that. Something in him just wants to put her at ease. Anyone who cares to look past the stiff demeanor, the jasmine flower in her hair, the reluctant mehndi on her hands, the fire in her eyes, will see resentment. At the government, God, fate, destiny - all scapegoats to blame for putting her in this situation. For reducing her to getting married just to stay in the country she considers home.

Bucky is, too. Resentful, that is. What’s worse is, he doesn’t understand it. Doesn’t understand where the love went. Then he feels guilty, snorts at his own naivete, his blissful ignorance. Lover boy Bucky Barnes. He was never one for politics, he thinks, pouring the first pancake. What little he remembers of his youth wafts up; taking care of Becca, taking care of Steve, taking girls on dates, taking the ship to the war, taking out Nazis. Even in the trenches, where soldiers had a tendency to question Roosevelt, or cuss at Hitler, he’d order them to shut up and shoot. If us fellas were meant to do nothin’ but talk, we’d be in Congress already, but we ain’t. So quit blabberin’ and do your jobs.

The second pancake is on the platter. A door opens somewhere down the hall. He waits, still and patient, as footsteps enter the bathroom and the sound of his sizzling frying pan and running water washes out the anxiety of talking to her. He will have to, at some point or the other. They live together. She had suggested briefly that they not, hadn’t wanted to burden him, but he reminded her of his public image. People would most certainly notice if he wasn’t living with his wife, and then where would they be?

Said wife is now in the kitchen, wringing her hands, the glass bangles - chooriyan - chiming, and he pretends to be unaware. 

“James?” This plan doesn’t last very long, and he turns to see that she’s wearing what he would call a tunic if Peter hadn’t taught him it’s a kameez - he’s been giving him desi culture lessons - over a pair of jeans.

“Just Bucky, please. Mornin’. Sleep well?” He returns to the pancakes, blushing at his ineptitude. Tries to convince himself it’s okay, she’s an introvert, too. She’s uncomfortable around new people, too. The pancake tower is now five high.

“You should’ve woken me. Why are you making breakfast by yourself?” She ignores his question, a question he doesn’t know why he asked if he knows the answer to, and comes up to stand next to him at the counter.

“Why would I do that? I can cook, you know,” He says, only half in jest, the joke the first of the day, of the year, of their relationship. She smiles - a reward.

“Yeah, but still…” She trails off, then shakes away what’s troubling her. Bucky files that response under Things to Worry About Later. “I can see that you can cook. A little too well, it seems,” She laughs, gesturing to the sizable stack. “Can you eat five pancakes?” She asks with wonder.

“What do you mean?” 

“I can’t eat more than two, and you just flipped your seventh one, so that means you’ll have to-”

“Don’t worry. They’ll be gone before you can say super-metabolism,” He reassures, and she nods dubiously.

“Can I at least set the table?” Bucky looks at her, soft and kind and wise, wishes that she didn’t have to experience this. Forcing a marriage to stay in the place she loves. What has the world come to?

He shows her where the plates are, sets about pulling out various pancake toppings. Syrup, honey, berries, Nutella. She places the plates on the table, brings him the pot of coffee he forgot he made. Finally, they sit. Minutes of utensils colliding and the pancake stack diminishing pass before either of them say anything. She pours him coffee.

“Thanks. You didn’t pour any for yourself,” He says, frowning around a mouthful of blueberries. 

“I don’t drink coffee?”

“Tea?”

“Yeah, but-” Bucky begins to get up but she reaches for his hand, chooriyan clinking against the vibranium. “I don’t feel like it today,” She tells him, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

“You should’ve said something,” He says, upset at not being able to provide for a guest, the guest who’s going to be staying for a while. She shakes her head, spreads Nutella across her second pancake.

“It’s not that big a deal,” She laughs, cutting a piece. “Some days I feel like it and some days I don’t.”

“Okay.”

They finish breakfast in silence, and Bucky drinks more coffee than he should. She’s just picked up the dishes and is picking up a bottle of dish soap when Bucky opens the dishwasher and and takes both the dishes and the soap from her hands. Rinses and stacks them, then looks up at her as he’s drying his hands, still kneeling at the dishwasher. Observes the protest turn to surprise and then to veiled joy, and thinks: they might just make it through this.

Taglist:  @suz-123​ @mermaidxatxheart​ @buckyreaderrecs​ @shield-agent78​ @corneliabarnes​ @readerandcinephileingeneral​ @stevieboyharrington​ @notsomellowmushroom​ @veganfangirl5​ @mood-pancakes​ @lbuck121​

[etherealwaifgoddess]

One In A Million - Chpt.8

Summary: The three of you settle into your new lives together as the inevitable draft day draws near. 

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! This chapter is super short and I’m sorry for that but I really couldn’t make it any longer if I’d tried. It’s a doozy though. Hang on to your hats darlings! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Eight

March is almost over when you finally find a place. It’s a cute little ground floor apartment over in Cobble Hill with big windows and a tiny patch of grass out back for a yard. Just right for the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. Steve dreams of sitting outside to paint and Bucky promises to grill your dinners all summer long. Your commute is longer now that you’re not in Brooklyn Heights but it’s manageable and you don’t mind since it means Bucky’s commute is shorter to the docks over in Red Hook. Steve gives up his job at the grocery store and takes a position at a nearby newspaper helping to draw copies of ads. The pay isn’t as good but he’s happier and between the three of you, you get by just fine. 

April comes and you want to enjoy the warmer weather and settling into your lives together, but Bucky has less than a month left before he’s drafted and you’re heartsick at the thought. You try not to let it get you down, pouring yourself into the little garden patch you’ve started out back instead. You’re tending to your tiny pea vines when Steve gets home with a slam of your screen door. 

You join him in the kitchen, worried when you see his glowering expression. “What’s wrong?” 

Steve slaps his hand down on the counter top, frustrated. “I’m never gonna join the army.” 

“Another 4F?” you guess, “You’re gonna break Bucky’s heart.” 

“Worse.” he grits out, taking another long drink of water from his glass. “They caught me this time. Had all of my files spread out on the Captain’s desk. I could have been arrested, they told me as much. The guy was nice but he doesn’t get it, he can’t. He told me this was my only warning. If I get caught again they’ll lock me up. Said he couldn’t blame me for trying but I needed to accept things for what they were.” 

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” you pull him into your arms, letting his anger burn off until the sadness pours from him like waves. You’re still holding him when Bucky comes in quietly behind you. You look up when you smell the familiar scent of saltwater that clings to him after a hard day’s work. He doesn’t ask, he just curls himself around Steve, holding on to comfort his partner. 

“I won’t try again, Buck.” Steve says, finally breaking the silence. “I love you and Rose too much to risk getting locked up. I’m sorry.” 

Bucky turns Steve around to face him, leaving you to rub his narrow shoulders. “Don’t you ever apologize for doing what you believe is right. That’s part of who you are, Stevie, and I love you. I’m glad you’re done trying but I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted.” 

Steve nods and holds onto Bucky tightly for a minute. 

“Why don’t you two go sit in the living room and I’ll run down the block to get us sandwiches for dinner?” you offer. 

“It was my night to cook.” Bucky frowns. 

“You have something more important to take care of tonight.” you shoot a meaningful glance at Steve and Bucky nods in agreement. “I’ll be back in a few.” 

That night you and Bucky are extra attentive to Steve, helping him work through the sadness and loss he’s dealing with. He tries to brush it off but you know he’s hurting. Giving up is something Steve Rogers never learned how to do and you can’t imagine the toll this is taking on him. You quietly hope that this set back doesn’t prevent him from meeting Erskine when the time comes but you have to have faith that it’ll happen the way it should.

After a few weeks in your new place, Bucky invites his parents and sisters down for Easter. He claims it’s because you and Steve have your heart set on hosting the first holiday in your new home. It’s really because Bucky wants you to meet his family and to show off your new place. You and Winifred Barnes hit it off from the second she walks through your door. You wish you could tell her how much you love her son, what an amazing partner he is to you and Steve. You settle for the friendship version of your affections, just as he and Steve have been doing their whole lives. It’s harder than you expected but you try and focus on being a good host and loving wife to Steve. You only have to slip away once to cry quietly in the bathroom, heartbroken for your boys who can’t live their lives out in the open. It makes you want to say timelines be damned and snatch the pair of them back into the future with you. 

The day of the draft is coming, quicker than any of you would like. Bucky had to re-register when you moved, putting his name back into the lottery you already know he’s going to win. He gets quieter in the days before the announcement, a little more withdrawn. He holds you and Steve tighter at night, tells you he loves you more frequently too. Steve worries by throwing himself into this art. He leaves sketches of you and Bucky all around the apartment for you to find and pack away in a hat box for safe keeping. 

The whole world seems on edge the closer draft day comes. Everyone has someone to worry over it seems. You kiss Bucky just a little longer that morning before he leaves for work. “It’ll be okay no matter what.” you promise him. “We’ll get through it together.” 

“At least I know you and Stevie have each other if I have to go.” he tells you quietly. Your heart aches knowing you won’t. Your jump point is shortly after when he’ll be reporting for basic. The three of you will be separated and all alone, the way history is meant for it to be. 

You can barely sit still at work waiting for the announcement over the radio. You have Bucky’s number written on a scrap of paper in your pocket. The girls in your pool are all worried about their husbands/ boyfriends/ brothers, and you sit huddled together praying when President Roosevelt’s voice comes over the radio. You can’t breathe when he starts calling out numbers, waiting for Bucky’s to be pulled. It’s for the best, it needs to happen, it already has happened technically. And then it’s over. Clara two desks over is wailing, her brother’s number was called. You sit stone still, staring at the piece of paper in your hand that has a number that wasn’t called. 

You convince yourself you wrote it down wrong and fake sick to get sent home early. You race across the bustling city to get to Bucky, needing to comfort him and prove to yourself you did write it down wrong. Because Bucky Barnes was drafted into the US Army. He became a sergeant and was deployed to Azzano where he was taken by HYDRA and given a version of the serum. The same serum that Steve Rogers is given by Dr. Erskine to become Captain America. The history lessons fly through your mind like mantras as you hurry to get to the docks. 

Bucky is standing with a group of men when you find him, his face grim. Relief washes over you that the timeline is intact, followed by the ache that you’ll be losing him to a hard life that no one deserves. Bucky steps away from the group to pull you aside.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” you tell him, tears in your eyes.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“Your number… It was called. Right?”

“No, darlin’. I’m fine! You must’ve written it down wrong. I lucked out again.”

“But your face, you looked…”

“Tim got called, he’s a good man and a fine worker. I’m okay, Rose. I’m not going anywhere.” 

You’re at a loss for words and Bucky just holds you close, assuming you’re relieved and happy. You want to be happy, you want to go home and celebrate with Steve that your little family gets to stay together. But the world feels like an unfamiliar place now. You look around taking in the sights you know by heart but no longer connect with. It’s a strange new time you’re living in now. A world where Bucky Barnes doesn’t go off to war. Where he doesn’t get captured and almost die. Where he isn’t brainwashed and tortured for seventy years. Possibly where Captain America never exists. 

Oh god, what have you done. 

Tag list! @wolfarrowepz​