#like really? you’re assigning an actual age to the eternal time god?

[movie-plush-baby]

once i saw someone refer to Timekeeper with “Gender: Female” and it’s like what about this creature you see here makes you think she’d be binary. This is a time god who is above gender. If you called him a her or her a him she’d be like “yup that’s me” and then go back to eating a (NON-SENTIENT) cookie she got from our timeline for the fuck of it

[ussgallifrey]

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 27

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Canon divergence, dialogue taken directly from Avengers: Age of Ultron, the Eternals being really bad at lying, dealing with their trauma and grief like ADULTS, excessive drinking, insane levels of foreshadowing, language, modern-day Ancient Grecian festivals, Wanda's canonical love of sitcoms.

✦ Word Count: 17.6k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Cinematic Soundtrack: Here

✦ Author's Note: Oh. My. God. I can't believe we're here at the final chapter of the Age of Ultron arc, the very biggest chapter of the entire story. This was so much fun to write. There's going to be some translations, and a follow-up Author's Note at the end of the chapter to keep this part spoiler-free. Enjoy!

[Master List]

The echoing screams are what pull you away from the low-lit comfort of your bedroom. As the highest shriek trembles down into shuddering sobs in the gentle stillness of night. 

Putting your book to the side, you push away from the bed. Almost the second you open your door, the one across the hall from you is creaking open as well. With his ruffled bedhead and a muffled yawn, Steve gives you a familiar nod as you wordlessly move down the stairs to your unofficially assigned duties.

Pietro’s light is already on, his door ajar. While you continue down to the main level, Steve glides his way across the hall to the second door on the right.

Flicking the switch on the wall, the kitchen’s overhead light temporarily blinds your senses.

“Hey,” you give a worn sigh as you make your way over to the stove. “We talked about this. I know you have good intentions here, but - ”

“It is a calming method, is it not?” Vision questions in a slightly stilted tone as he holds the tea kettle above a red-hot burner.

Maybe those shrieking cries hadn’t just been from the traumatized girl upstairs, but from a whistling pot as well.

“Yeah, but it’s only effective if the water isn’t fully evaporated out. Sort of ruins the tea mix.”

“Ah,” he sighs, setting the kettle down on the adjoining burner. “This is still… confusing.”

With a shrug, you gently push him to the side as you move to fill the kettle back up at the sink, “Hey, you’re leagues ahead of most one-month-olds, give yourself some credit.”

He tilts his head, “I am not a human infant, the correlation does not compute.”

Pushing your hair over your shoulder as you return to the stove, you smile up at the man, “It was a joke, Vision. Or at least, an attempt at one. I’m too tired for this, honestly.”

“I was under the impression that deities did not require sleep.”

Placing the kettle down with a little more force than necessary, you fix the creation with a look.

It had been an odd month and a half for all of you.

Your time in Sokovia was still a close memory, as was apparent in the near-nightly nightmares of the youngest twin. Sometimes, when you close your eyes, you find yourself transported back to the battle. You could still hear the terrified screams, smell the decay around you, and worse yet feel the unmovable hand at your throat.

The team had stayed long after the battle to assist in the clean-up process. Which, in all actuality, just meant giving the bodies a dignified place to rest until a temporary morgue could be set up in a structurally stable location.

You all had worked well into the night before Steve began to wane. Gritted teeth and brushes of I’m fine went on for far too long before the multiple broken ribs, punctured spleen, and several large gashes finally took their toll on him. Natasha, Clint, and Sam hadn’t been much better off either.

But even after they were forcibly removed to seek medical treatment, you and Thor remained. To walk amongst the human race was an honor. You weren’t going to leave the scene of battle when such carnage was left behind. 

It wasn’t until morning, when a slow and steady sunrise peaked over the mountains, that you were finally finished in your duties; aided by a handful of SHIELD agents and local residents who had returned in the early morning hours to see what was left of their city.

There wasn’t much of Old Town that remained standing. And, by last estimates, some 17,000 people had been infected and killed by Ultron’s nano-virus. Another 3,000 were killed during the battle, followed by thousands of injured and seriously critical patients in neighboring hospitals.

You didn’t even like thinking of the week’s total now; between Sokovia, New York, Johannesburg, and London. Not to mention Seoul, where Ultron had attacked Cho’s lab while you all had been distracted by other threats.

“Have I said something to upset you?”

The kettle is whistling.

Blinking, you pull the pot off the heat and fill the awaiting mug.

“No, not at all. Just… lost in thought,” you say with a distant voice as you add the herbal mix.

Vision gives you a hesitant nod.

After letting the tea steep for a moment, you give the man a gentle wave before you head up the stairs. He knew better than to follow after you now.

This had been another adjustment for you, in the aftermath of the battle.

As the Tower had been destroyed, the team split off in search of temporary living situations. Tony went to Malibu, Sam back to his place in D.C., and Clint had an apartment in the city somewhere that he and Natasha were crashing out at. Thor had been offered lodging with Tony, at Pepper’s insistence.

Which of course left one particular supersoldier.

 Steve had been living at the tower for well over a year now; never bothering to get a place for himself in Brooklyn, or anywhere else in the city for that matter. It hadn’t even been a question to offer him a room at your house in Vermont after he was cleared from the hospital.

This only left the true question that was the twins and, well, Vision (as Thor soon named him).

They were technically minors and Vision was technically a weapon, but also a sentient being. The legality of it quickly became complicated by international law and Sokovian law and U.S. immigration and temporary refugee laws. You left all that up to Tony to deal with. He had an army of lawyers in hand for things of this nature, thankfully.

You didn’t want to just leave them there to deal with this newfound freedom on their own. You all knew HYDRA would be on the lookout for them, and if that wasn’t bad enough, you personally knew that SHIELD would be looking to take them in if at all possible as well.

And while it had been different for the others, who were all adults who could reasonably consent to things that Nick would offer, you were all too aware of the fragile state the twins were in. It was one thing to willingly join up with SHIELD, it was another to be convinced to join under possibly false pretenses.

You liked Nick, you trusted him to have your six, but there were certain things you would rather keep clear of his grasp.

If the tower had still been intact, perhaps you would have all gone to live there in a strange form of cohabitation. But, instead, you found yourself housing two mutants, a sentient computer, and a supersoldier. There were stranger things out there, you were sure of it.

Pushing the door to Wanda’s room open a little further, you offer the teen a gentle smile.

You had told Tony that you were used to dealing with teenage twins. Thankfully, he didn’t pester you with questions about that and had merely made temporary guardianship signed over to you.

Pietro is sitting next to her on the bed while Steve remains near the foot of the mattress.

Passing the tea along, you rest your weight against the dresser. Sometimes, she would be able to go back to sleep after a few minutes or an hour of talking. But, it looks like tonight is going to be another one of those situations.

After several minutes of the siblings speaking in hushed Sokovian to one another, the girl gathers the black comforter up and around her like a cloak and makes her way down the stairs with her brother at her side.

Steve gives a tired sigh, rubbing his jaw as he moves to stand beside you after flicking off her bedside light.

From here, you can hear the gentle click and hum of the box T.V. humming to life downstairs. You had offered up your vast collection of movies and shows to her on one of those first restless nights. She had an affinity for sitcoms and romantic comedies, oddly enough.

Offering the blonde a slow smile, you ask, “What was it tonight?”

He folds his arms over his chest, rocking back on his heels as he pointedly doesn’t look at you.

“Her, back in the cell… with the Hulk,” comes the terse breath a moment later.

You can’t help but grimace.

During the clean-up efforts, right after the battle, Bruce had transformed back to himself. And while the Hulk might not have noticed or even cared that Wanda was there, Bruce - the man - had very differing opinions on her presence there.

Holding a good amount of anger over her meddling in Johannesburg, he had almost fully transformed back into his green opposite when you and Thor had both tackled him - dragging him far, far away from the terrified girl. You understood, of course. She had gotten into his mind, had twisted it in such a way that he couldn’t regain control over his other self. 

To see her standing there beside all of you was like being sent back to Johannesburg all over again. And to know the damage it has caused to both the city, the people, and Bruce’s own psyche.

While she was apologetic for her actions, you all knew that she was only a child, following the orders of another abusive force in her life. Bruce logically knew that as well, but he couldn’t help that momentary burst of rage that crippled him like venom.

In that sense, you were grateful that the tower was no more. You weren’t sure how they would be able to exist under one roof.

Not that Bruce stuck around long enough after you landed to find out.

Steve reaches out, taking hold of your forearm with his warm hand.

“It’s going to get better.”

With a shrug, you reply, “It’s okay if it doesn’t too. Not everything can be fixed with hope and well-wishing.”

His eye color seems dim in this light, not the usual electric blue you associate with the afternoon sky. Everything about Steve seemed rather dimmed this past month and a half, though. Perhaps, even you were dimmed, a palette of dreary colors that didn’t quite resemble your past self.

It had been a hard victory; one that was soured by so much death and destruction that you weren’t even sure if you could call the battle a victory. It was just finished. That’s all. The finish to a terrible threat.

He gives you a crooked smile, “Still, nothing wrong with hoping for better days.”

“Yeah,” you nod, holding back a yawn of your own.

With Wanda’s regular nightmares shaking the whole house and her screams echoing across the foundations, it was hard for even you to feel energized. Even with your pendant having a permanent position around your neck.

“You going back to bed?” he asks, gently nodding at your second yawn.

“Honestly? I don’t think I could sleep even if I wanted to.”

With a warm chuckle, Steve shakes his head, “Yeah. Me too.”

Together, you make your way downstairs to the living area. The lights are blessedly low, while the program on the TV is a little hard to look at. Pietro is curled up next to his sister, already snoring at the end of the couch. Wanda gives you a thankful nod as she continues to sip from her tea, pulling the comforter closer around her shoulders.

You and Steve find a spot on the loveseat opposite the couch, just under the window. Vision is hovering in the corner of the room, glancing through a book, though his eyes keep looking up at the TV whenever the laugh track plays.

He had been an entirely different addition to your household. Tony had offered to keep him down in Malibu until there was an adjustment period, but Pepper had been more hesitant. It was only after he picked up Thor’s hammer in the rubble of the market square that anyone on the team even felt comfortable having him around. There was so much of Ultron that could have been left in there.

But Tony had sacrificed JARVIS to the net, wiping every last trace of the rogue bot out. He would chase him to the deepest corners of the web to ensure it. That included Vision’s programming.

And, well, since you had a brief moment of clarity on the rooftop together, you volunteered to house him as well.

Steve’s arm wraps around the back of the sofa, his fingers brushing up against your left shoulder as you lean into him. He didn’t really care for these shows, but he didn’t like staying upstairs while the rest of you convened down here either.

“Oh, look. When it started, I was just trying to be nice to her because she was my brother’s girlfriend. And then, oh, one thing led to another and before I knew it we were… shopping.”

“Oh! Oh my god.”

“Honey, wait, we only did it once! It didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Yeah, right. Sure.”

“Really, Rachel, I was thinking of you the whole time!”

Wanda snorts as Monica chases Rachel across their apartment. Steve lulls his head downward, glancing at you with his soft sleep-deprived eyes. You smile back at him, moving in closer to his side, resting your head upon his shoulder as you tuck in for the rest of the night.

The team had been actively avoiding the public eye in the aftermath of Ultron. It was for the best - that’s what Tony’s PR team told you anyway. That’s another reason your house had been the perfect location to place the twins and Vision. It wasn’t public knowledge, the location of your home, and it was a good distance away from any major city. Unlike Tony down in Malibu, who frequently had paps outside of his mansion - waiting for a picture.

That’s why they decide to keep Steve’s birthday a smaller affair - aside from Steve’s own insistence on not making a big deal out of it. Somewhere upstate where they’re less likely to be recognized; questioned, ridiculed.

Well, the plan was to celebrate the supersoldier’s birthday on his actual birthday, but in the realm of superheroes, plans have a way of falling by the wayside. The team is sent to Atlanta to deal with a threat - you stay behind, for obvious reasons.

You’re in the middle of preparing a lunch for the teens, the next day, when you get a text from Tony.

Change of plans. Meet us in Albany round 7 for Capsicle’s shindig? x.

It would give you time to come up with arrangements for the three others in your house. No one felt particularly comfortable with leaving them to their own devices just yet. Not with HYDRA still being an active threat in the world. 

And, since they were in the public image now, more than just the likes of an old military organization might want to get their hands on two enhanced kids. And a sentient being like Vision.

You make a call to an old friend and manage to arrive at the restaurant just an hour after the team does.

They’re all in an array of outfits - since they only had what was available in their go-bags to change into. Natasha has on a black cocktail dress, while Tony’s in a faded Metallica shirt and jeans. Thor has not changed from his armor, though his cape is absent. Clint has a baggy purple hoodie and grey sweatpants on. Only Steve and Sam look to be wearing their typical style of clothing, in all honesty.

“Hey, there she is!” Barton calls out, making everyone turn their head to see you.

“Who’s watching the Wonder Twins?” Tony questions, peering down from behind his sunglasses. Seriously, only that man would wear sunglasses indoors. 

You smile at the belated birthday boy as you take a seat opposite him at the table. Squished between Clint and the resident billionaire, you answer lightly, “A friend.”

“Ooh, like a godly friend, or - ”

“Tony,” Steve sighs with a gentle shake of his head. “Just for one night.”

Stark gives an exaggerated groan, “Oh, for our resident centenarian…”

“He’s only ninety-seven,” Natasha reminds him behind the rim of her drink.

“Thirty, actually. Thank you,” Steve clarifies with another unruly sigh.

Your eyes meet his from across the white-clothed table, a smirk toying at your lips. Leave it to Tony to find the fanciest steak restaurant around.

“What, are we not counting your years in the ice anymore? Cause if that’s the case, man. You really gotta up the game on modern speaking and tech,” Clint rolls his eyes as he lazily folds his napkin into a swan beside you.

“I believe the Captain looks quite healthy for his advanced age,” Thor goads from the end of the table. “A healthy ninety, for sure.”

Steve just buries his head in his hands, a smile tugging at his lips, “This is why I never go to team dinners.”

Your laugh makes him look up. The glimmer of life in his eyes makes your heart swell.

It would take time for all of you to recover from Ultron’s terror, but you would get there… in time.

“So,” Tony sighs, leaning back in his chair, his hand upon his stomach. “I have a schedule out for everyone’s birthdays. Where do I put you two?”

You had just finished a very expensive meal of prime-cut steak selections, fresh-catch baked fish, too many countless appetizers and sides to count, and a very decadent birthday cake with glowing sparklers - because ninety-seven candles on top of a cake are apparently considered a fire risk.

Glancing down the table at your fellow God, you just laugh, throwing your balled-up white napkin at Tony.

“We do not abide by such… mortal things.”

“Well, you gotta have a birthdate, right?” Sam speaks up, one arm on the table as his other hand points between the two of you. “Didn’t just pop into existence one day and forget about it, you know?”

“Well…” you lull your head to the side.

“I knew it!” Clint cheers, “Fucking, what did I say? From the head of Zeus comes the goddess ATHENA.”

Pushing at his shoulder, Barton goes cackling to the side, unable to help himself after a drink too many.

“While I appreciate the sentiment, I’m afraid it’s just not a done thing for us,” you apologize. “If you want, however. Pick a random Thursday, and call it Thor’s Day.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Thor chuckles, “No, it is quite literally my day amongst the practitioners of Norse beliefs in this realm.”

“And you,” Tony contemplates, words playing on his tongue. “Athena… Thena… Thur - no, Tue… no. Okay, help a guy out here.”

You laugh, catching sight of the content looking supersoldier from across the table. His eyes follow the conversation between you and the billionaire, a soft and equally amused smile on his face.

“Nothing like that for me, sorry, Tony. You’re just going to have to survive without throwing me a party.”

“Like hell, I will!” he sounds almost aghast, clutching a hand to his chest. “If you don’t give me one, I’m gonna go for April 1st or something, you know.”

Casually leaning back in your chair, you place your used utensils upon your empty plate. That cake had been delicious.

“Personally, I wouldn’t recommend it. Dionysus gets quite annoyed when people try to take his celebrations away from him.” 

When you catch Steve’s curious look, you return his gaze to explain, “April 1st is the beginning of the Great Dionysia, a celebration created back in the 6th century, BC. He would take it as a great offense that anyone would be trying to celebrate me on that day.”

“Hang on!” Clint remarks, tapping at the table. “Athens. They literally named the place after you. There’s gotta be some kind of thing for you. A party, or a day, a week-long festival, right? I’m right, aren't I?”

“Fellas,” Natasha groans, lifting her glass toward you. “Leave the girl alone. Bad enough we have to suffer through Steve’s dronefest of a party. No offense.”

Steve holds up his hands, “None taken. Wasn’t my idea.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony chimes in. “Was there a thank you, Tony, in there that I didn’t catch? Perhaps a thank you for wining and dining us all on this beautiful evening, Tony?”

There’s a collective groan of Thank you Tony and Many thanks Stark, which seem to satisfy the man’s need for recognition for the night.

When you’re outside, long after the waitstaff usually closed up - but Tony had a very generous tip for the restaurant, so they didn’t mind as much - Clint, Natasha, and Sam say their goodbyes. Wishing Steve a good, belated, birthday before they head out.

Tony lingers around as Thor and Steve converse.

“No word yet on our Strucker double. Just some local guy who went missing about three months before everything went down. And as for the other thing - look. I’m doing my best, but the records from back then are shoddy at best…”

You just nod in return. It had been one of the few requests you had made to the billionaire after taking the teens in. It wasn’t necessarily pressing, but after so many years spent in HYDRA’s captivity, you knew there was a chance that information might help them.

“How are they though?” he asks, voice lowered, sunglasses hooked onto his shirt.

“Good as can be, considering,” you answer honestly. “Wanda has nightmares, Pietro does too, sometimes. But they seem to be adjusting well enough. No… accidental outbursts of, you know, magic. And Vision is… well… he’s Vision.”

At that, Tony lets out a bark of laughter.

“Hey, thanks again for that. Taking one for the team just... yeah. You know? But, good news, groundbreaking on the new location is in a week, so we might be looking at early September, mid-October for move-in?”

You blink, “That fast?”

He fixes you with a look.

“Sweetheart, with the right amount of money, you can afford the best contractors out there. I’m not pinching a dime on these plans.”

Stark had been planning the new Avengers location pretty much since the ride home from Sokovia. The blueprints were good to go by the end of the week. And that was between multiple press conferences, a hospital trip, several angry phone calls from Pepper, and trying to safely and legally get two child refugees into the country.

“Sounds like a plan,” you say lightly.

“Well,” he claps his hands, smiling brightly - drunkenly - as he snags his sunglasses to put back on his face. “Come on, Point Break. Let's leave Mr. and Mrs. Rogers to get back home.”

“Tony - ”

You roll your eyes, “Just because we live together, Tony - ”

“Yeah, but you two? So adorable. Like a little nuclear family. Mom, Dad, the two kids, and your cybernetic… pet. You know what - ”

“Okay,” Thor chuckles as Steve drags a hand down his face, a flush of red doting his cheeks. “I think even you’ve had too much to drink, Stark.”

After the God of Thunder manages to corral Tony into the back of his waiting car, Steve saunters over to you - one hand in his pocket and the other tossing his keys up and down.

“Where have I seen this before?” you laugh.

Steve grins, “Come on, let a guy offer you a ride.”

“Well,” you drawl as you both walk over toward his bike. “It is your birthday, after all, so I guess…”

It’s a two-hour ride back to Vermont.

Your hands remain around Steve’s waist as you travel across the lonely freeways and backcountry roads. The warmth of his leather jacket and the rich smell of his cologne keep you company for the ride. You have his shield on your back while his small go-bag is stored under the seat.

At this time of night, you can make out the distant constellations up above. You point them out as you drive, shouting their names for Steve to hear. At one point, he reaches a hand down to squeeze your right hand that’s held tight across his middle.

As he pulls onto the vacant road that leads up to the house, the engine puttering softly, he tilts his head back to say:

“You know, I don’t even think I asked who’s watching Wanda and Pietro?”

You chuckle, leaning your forehead against his upper back, “Just an old friend. He was free tonight, no big plans.”

There’s a nearly audible arch of his brow, “Old friend?”

You nod, letting him feel the gentle up and down of your head against his shoulder.

“From college,” you add.

You know he wants to ask more of you, but he waits until you’re back at the house. A handful of lights are on when you pull up - through the illusion. Downstairs is aglow in yellow tones, while a single bedroom on the second floor has a flashing melody of colorful lights. Wanda was definitely a fan of the mood lights Tony had purchased for her.

Steve parks the motorcycle near the porch. Holding out a hand to help you off the bike, you eagerly stretch your arms.

“Two hours on that might be too much,” you chuckle.

The supersoldier shakes his head, “It was like… an hour-forty, at most.”

“Oh, so you were speeding.”

Cracking a smile in your direction, Steve pulls the keys from the ignition and pockets them in his jacket. Handing over his shield, the supersoldier takes it in his right hand. Wrapping his left arm around your shoulders, the two of you walk up the creaking steps of the porch.

The house, in all honesty, is usually pretty quiet. Even with two teenagers living there. But Wanda and Pietro definitely weren’t your average teens. So, you didn’t question the silence that sometimes overtook your home. After nearly a decade of existing within HYDRA’s grasp, you knew their willingness and ability to make much noise was still limited.

However, you’re slightly surprised to hear a rapturous conversation taking place the minute you enter the central hallway.

Steve’s eyes are immediately locked on the kitchen. A certain change to his posture as he stands straight, shoulders back, chin up, gaze piercing.

Pushing a gentle defusing hand to his chest, you kick off your shoes and move through the archway to your right.

“Is that right?” Vision asks with a sense of excitement in his tone.

“No, it’s quite a fascinating topic if you have the time for it. You know, not many people know this, but - aye! There she is!”

Your smile blossoms into a bright grin as you cross the kitchen to greet the other man.

“Hello, Vision,” you pat the creation’s shoulder politely before you move to hug your friend, “Hi! Thank you again. How was it?”

Releasing you, his hand drifts to rest on your left shoulder.

“Good, really good. Well… quiet, actually. But they’re not too bad. Good kids at heart.”

“Yeah, they are,” Steve stands in the doorway, his arms crossed as he stares at your companion.

“Ah, Captain Rogers,” he says, letting go of you in favor of going over to shake Steve’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Steve glances at you for just a beat before he returns the handshake.

“Huh, good things I hope. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Uhm,” you cough, moving to stand beside the two men, “This is… Isaac, friend from college.”

“Isaac?” Ikaris mouths at you.

“Yeah, you mentioned that already,” Steve stares down at you.

Ikaris forces a smile, “Yeah we studied at… college, together.”

You actually want to hit him. Sersi was so much better at this than him. God, it was awful. But at least Steve has a hint of a smile on his face. 

Leaning against the doorway, the supersoldier comments, “Didn’t notice a car in the drive.”

The Eternal looks to you, then, oddly enough, at Vision, before he answers, “Taxi.”

“Right,” Steve nods, biting his tongue. “Well, thank you anyway. It’s… sort of a sensitive situation here, you know.”

“Of course,” Ikaris nods in earnest. “Happy to help, obviously. And,” he looks down at you. “If you ever need anything, just… give me a call, yeah?”

“Will do,” you smile before pushing up on your toes to wrap him into a hug. “And thank you again. Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.”

He hums in return before he bids you all a goodnight.

You count his steps down the porch and into the yard before - yup.

Steve turns to look at you, “Power of flight?”

Offering him a sheepish smile, you shrug, “Amongst… other things?”

“God, sweetheart,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I think I’ve got the full picture of you and then you just go and surprise me again.”

You push at his shoulder, eyes locked on his as a smile teases at your lips, “You think you know a girl…”

“I'm sorry,” Vision interrupts, as he looks back at the two of you from his seated position. “Were we not supposed to acknowledge his enhanced state?”

Steve looks down at you, and you up at him before you both start laughing.

Even from out here on the porch steps, you can still smell the lingering scent of onion in the air. Latkes had become a bit of a staple meal around the house as of late. The twins only had vague memories of their life prior to HYDRA and that organization wasn’t exactly well-known for their catering options.

Wanda had newfound aversions to deal with, but Pietro was less particular in his meals. As long as it was filling, he would typically eat it. But the young witch had many opinions about the food you served, and how it was prepared. And you weren’t exactly known for your cooking skills, nor was Steve for that matter.

Potato pancakes were easy enough to make, and opening a can of vegetables or applesauce for a side seemed to do the trick.

It’s just the four of you again. Steve had been called away for a recon mission alongside Clint and Natasha two days ago. Even in a house full of people, his absence was felt by all.

Tony had honestly been right when he said that you had basically created a strange little nuclear family in your home.

“Hey,” you smile gently as you take a seat near Pietro on the steps. From here, you can watch the lightning bugs dancing in the tall grass.

The stars are just beginning to peak out from the violet sky as Wanda walks through the swaying flower fields with Pallas on her shoulder.

Your smile wanes as you catch him wiping a quick fist across his running nose, eyes trimmed with red rings.

The urge to ask are you okay is overwhelming, but you know better by now. It had taken some work with Steve to get him to refrain from asking that question too often as well. Ever since Pietro’s fist had gone through the wall beside the staircase.

His desperate no, I am not fucking fine still echoed in your mind.

He’s pointedly avoiding your gaze, just a step down from you, as he rests his arms on his knees, his head is balanced on the crook of his right elbow as he gazes out at the blinking bugs.

His voice cracks as he asks with a sniff, “When will the Captain return?”

Glancing down at Pietro, you turn your eyes to the evening landscape. The wind is warm on this late-July night. It sweeps across the fields and forest canopy, a loving caress against your bare arms and legs.

“I’m not sure.”

Wanda giggles as Pallas takes flight, swooping around her alongside the lightning bugs. She claps her hands together once, holding them to her lips as she watches the owl soar.

“You know,” you begin, leaning toward the boy. “Sometimes, you two remind me of my siblings. A twin pair actually.”

He hums in return, eyes still cast upon the land.

“Wanda reminds me of my sister. Keeping to herself, finding companionship in, well, everything but people,” you smirk as Pallas returns to her, landing upon her right shoulder before he toes his way over to her left.

“And you… an Apollo in the making. Bright, charming, quick-witted. He would have liked you.”

Pietro’s head lifts, a curious arch to his brow.

“I miss them,” you relent. “Almost twenty years since I saw either of them, but the ache doesn’t disappear.”

He nods, lightly jostling his leg up and down.

“I…” he clears his throat, drums his fingers upon his knee, “I don’t remember much before… you know. But sometimes I get these… glimpses of them. Our rodičia. I don’t think she remembers as much. Just that night when the apartment was blown up and that missile was just sitting there - for two days, two nights. But I…” 

Pietro smiles. “I remember my mama’s hair; long, curling brown, blowing in the wind. White sheets hanging on a laundry line, shadows, a laugh. It all seems so far away at times.”

“You were young when you were taken.”

“Seven,” he nods. “We had been on the streets for two years when we were picked up. I can’t even remember my otec now. They… wiped it all away with their words, their machines, bastardi!”

You let the silence between you simmer for a moment, letting him ease his woes in the safety of your presence.

“I can’t even remember my own mother,” you admit in a broken whisper.

Pietro turns his head to look up at you.

“I thought people like you just… burst into existence.”

You give a hollow chuckle, “Not quite. She… she sacrificed herself to save me when I was very young.”

He blinks, lowering his gaze, “And… your father?”

Wrapping your hands into an enclosed fist, you let out a long breath.

“That’s… that’s another story entirely, Pietro. Me and the All-Father have a… complicated history in regards to certain things. At some moments, we were as close as can be and others… after Art and ‘Pollo left… well, don’t let me bore you with a Greek tragedy.”

His brow lifts, “Was that a joke?”

You shake your head, offering him a smile in return, “A hint of a pun, yes.”

He hums in return, leaning against the steps - his weight causing the old wood to creak - as he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. The warm evening wind rustles his stark white hair.

Steve returns on the 12th, several days past when he wants to be home. Things had gotten so tied up between the original mission and the HYDRA agent who ended up being an opening into an even bigger operation near the Mexican border.

He had heard mentions of Rumlow’s name on the wires and it felt like he had been running for nearly a week, chasing after another ghost.

The new compound along the Hudson was coming along. Tony was pleased to announce, when they landed the jet late last night, that the main housing unit for the team was completed - they were just waiting on the interior designer to drive up on Friday to finalize that last part of the process.

In the meantime, Tony had a folding camping table and deck chairs set up in the room he deemed their ‘war station… or whatever.’ So, Steve, Nat, and Clint spent three hours going through every last excruciating detail, followed up by marking known locations for both bases of operations and HYDRA agents for SHIELD to deal with.

By the time the sun was clipping the horizon, the supersoldier was in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes. Luckily, the showers were set up and Tony had stocked the bathroom with exactly three towels. But that was more than Steve had been hoping for anyway, so he spent a long time soaking his aching muscles under the welcomed heat of the shower’s spray.

As he’s about to exit, he spots the billionaire with his feet kicked up on the folding table, a hand held to his forehead.

Tony peeks between his spread fingers as Steve draws near.

“The convenience of modern-day technology,” he sighs as a call comes through on his cell phone. He almost immediately swipes it over to the reject call button.

Steve lifts his brow in question.

“Well, ever since our little fuck up, I’ve had no less than seventeen daily calls between myself and Secretary Thaddeus Ross. If it’s not about dragging me in for a meeting or threatening to lock our asses up, he’s asking about Bruce’s location. Which, yeah, the man can go fuck himself in that sense.”

Resting his hands on his hips, the supersoldier shakes his head.

Things hadn’t eased up after Sokovia. He was starting to wonder if they ever would.

“But, that’s for me to deal with,” Tony shoves his feet onto the ground and stands with a groan before stretching his arms. “While you run and save the day, I’ll make sure the fridge stays stocked and your uniform doesn’t burst into flames or whatever it is I do exactly.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Steve looks down at the man with a genuine smile.

“Yeah, well,” he gabs, smacking the blonde on the arm as he passes him. “Say hi to the Missus for me, won’t you? And the kids. Those two adorable, rambunctious little tikes.”

Steve sighs, glancing up at the other man, “You’re never going to lay off that, are you?”

“Not until you plan on doing something about it. I’m all for the long game, but the betting pool is getting high, Rogers and Pep’s not gonna let me throw much more into that pot.”

Tony watches him as he goes through the doors to the recently paved driveway and parking lot. His bike remains under a protected shelter, clear of the elements with some fancy Stark Inudstries-branded cover over the motorcycle itself.

Throwing his go-bag under the seat and his shield over his shoulder, Steve mounts the seat and turns the ignition. The bike purrs under his hands.

The billionaire offers him a two-fingered salute as he pulls out onto the main road.

He just knew that he wanted to get home, back to you, in Vermont.

It still felt strange, to call that place home. Steve hadn’t had a proper place to call home since he was a kid in the 40s. He had a house in the Lower East Side, before the Battle of New York. And an apartment in D.C. during his time at SHIELD. But neither of those places felt like home.

They were adorned with his things; trinkets and items, that could remind him of a time and place far away from the 21st century. He had pictures of his friends, the Commandos. But even then, it was not a home.

But this, this strange cohabitation with the twins and Vision, and most importantly you? This is where Steve could truly say he felt at peace. It had been awkward at first, figuring out schedules and dealing with personal preferences, and hell, just being around two teenagers who were fresh out of HYDRA’s grasp.

And it wasn’t that his room on the third floor felt particularly like something he would style - though he had been able to switch out the lilac bedding and frills for things that were more his taste - the house just felt more homey than anything he had lived in after being recovered from the ice.

That was, in all honesty, probably due to you.

God, he was an idiot. Stark was right, he should be telling you or trying to tell you what he feels in his heart. But now it’s more of a challenge to get you alone as Wanda is usually glued to his side and Pietro to yours and it seems like there’s always a chance of Vision just floating through the walls to see what he’s up to.

But regardless of where he’s at in regards to admitting his deeply-held feelings, he’s anxious to get back to the house. To the place he’s easily calling home now, to anyone who asks.

And sure, Nat’s smirking when he says it and shooting glances at Barton, but he doesn’t care. This feels right. Deep in his bones, he knows it’s right.

And… maybe it's because he can forget about the world around him for a little while. Hidden off the grid, in an unmarked location. He can tune out the neverending news reports that call the Avengers the enemy, that demand retribution for their actions or inactions. 

The endless journalistic segments that detail over each member of the team and their past failings. Histories that had once been buried under government security software. They call into question their integrity, their ability to handle situations, to aid in peace-keeping.

When he’s at the house, he can just push that all away.

He can just… sit on the porch, close his eyes, and breathe.

Steve’s not exactly expecting a welcome party when he pulls up the drive, two hours later. So, it’s a bit surprising when Wanda is running up to him.

Her hair’s tied back in a large puffy bun and she’s got a black sheer duster on that billows up behind her as she rushes down the stairs. And Steve’s got a quick remark on the tip of his tongue as he kills the engine on the bike, but there’s a look in her eyes that makes him pull it back.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t - they, they just came. And they took her and - ” her voice quivers as she points helplessly at the neighboring line of trees, just beyond the pasture. “And you said to stay at the house if any- if anyone came and I - ”

“Whoa,” he eases, standing up from the bike, his hands coming down upon her forearms in a gentle hold. “Who took her?”

“I don’t, I don’t know! We were in the kitchen and we were talking about Strucker and there was a knock and I didn’t even think! She just, gah, bodaj ho!”

Steve’s eyes are immediately intense, scoping the lay of the land, looking for a sign of struggle.

And then, from the forest, he hears the distant cry of:

“No! I swear to - STOP IT, right now!”

He’s not even thinking as he takes off running. 

Your voice is clear as day even from such a great distance. Wanda is just behind him, several yards back. But from the porch, he can hear the confused voice of Pietro calling out to them both. And then the boy is right beside him -

“What? What is it?” he asks, keeping pace a little too easily with Steve.

But then you’re yelling again and the boy is gone in an instant and the supersoldier knows that he shouldn’t have let him go. Sure, you faced Ultron a few months back, but he was still a kid. And he was Steve’s responsibility.

“I swear to the All-Father if you even think for a second that I’m going to - ”

Steve’s pace slows as he enters a clearing. You glance up from the center of a group of women - one of them has a linen measuring tape held to your waist. The cross look upon your face immediately melts when you see him.

“Uh… hi,” you force a tight smile. “Uhm, Steve. You really shouldn’t - ”

But he’s already in front of you, keeping a wary eye on the women around you, “Are you okay? Wanda said - ”

“About that, I’m sorry. Uh… this is awkward.”

Turning to face the others, you ask, “Do you mind? You kind of dragged me off before I could really explain.”

A woman with rich brown skin shrugs. Her dark curls are haloed by a crown of pink and purple hyacinths.

“Just be back by dusk. You know how Di gets.”

And it’s really only now, as the two of you briefly converse, that Steve takes a second to look around at his surroundings.

The forest clearing has been swept clear of leaves and debris. Women are hanging lanterns from nearly every branch around this massive open space. And… yes, that tree is physically moving away from the center of the clearing.

Vision’s nearby, conversing with a man who has… goat legs. Apparently, the sentient being had been with you the entire time. Pietro’s standing off to the side, chatting with a blonde girl in a flowing white tunic when Wanda comes over the crest. Her eyes are just as wide as she takes in the scene.

“She’s fine,” Steve clarifies as she draws near.

“What is… this?”

The supersoldier shakes his head, “I honestly have no idea.”

There’s a canopy being set up by a handful of women now, with wooden tables placed underneath it. Almost immediately, items start appearing upon them; apples, breads and other baked goods, olives. So many olives.

Pallas lands on his shoulder just a second later, obviously sensing his confusion and slight distress from afar. He shoves his beak into Steve’s hair and the supersoldier’s quick to place a hand upon the owl’s head.

“Yeah, I hear you, buddy,” he breathes out.

When you finally break free, you saunter over to him with such a sense of awkward tension that Steve almost doesn’t recognize you beneath it.

“So…”

He blinks, looking out at the women before his gaze drops back to your face.

“What is happening right now?”

“Do you remember, last month, at your birthday dinner?”

He nods.

“When I told Tony that they don’t really… do that for me and Thor. And I said that I don’t have any real celebration associated with me?”

Steve nods again. Pallas pecks at the shell of his ear.

“Okay, well… that might have been a bit of a lie. This is… well, it’s uhm. It’s the last day of the Panathenaia. And my very unofficial birthday.”

He’s gawking, he knows he is, but he can’t seem to close his mouth.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I know,” you scrub a hand down your face. “It’s just… I’m not a fan of the pomp and circumstance anymore.”

“You…” he stumbles over his words as he helplessly blinks down at you, a new revelation bursting like a firework in his mind. “Are you telling me you actually have a birthday and that you’ve been keeping it a secret?”

“Well,” you shrug, crossing your arms as you both watch another three oak trees uproot themselves and begin walking further into the forest. 

“Not so much a lie as it was an omission of truth, right? I mean, last year? I was in France when it came around, no one to tell, no one to celebrate it with. The year before that? I was on Olympus. And before that, I was on Axariun III with my father. And well, before that we didn’t even know each other yet. So, all in all… not really me lying.”

“It feels like lying,” he clips, but a smile is playing at the corner of his lips.

“Fair enough,” you sigh.

Steve drums his fingers along the seam of his jeans as he turns, slowly, to take in all the preparations - if that was even the right word.

“So… the Panathea - ”

“Panathenaia,” you correct gently.

“That. What exactly does it entail?”

You grit your teeth, rubbing at your arms for a moment as you look over at the ever-growing table of food that seemed to be materializing out of nowhere.

“Uhm, drinking, dancing, general merry-making. The occasional athletic competition. They throw me in a peplos and offerings are made in my honor, and someone inevitably starts an orgy before the night’s over.”

Steve’s head whips around to look at you, but you’re not even phased by the words that have just left your mouth.

Right, he tries to remind himself. Greek mythology was literally your personal history.

“And this is the… set-up for it?”

“Yeah. Usually, I’m back home when the day comes around, but… well, extenuating circumstances this year kind of kept me Earth-bound.”

“Right,” he nods. “Yeah, that… that makes sense.”

You’re staring at him with slightly concerned eyes, so Steve forces a smile while his mind is honestly still reeling from the new bombshell.

“Want me to introduce you to everyone?”

Noticing the twins off to the side, now conversing with a handful of women - one of them is placing a white floral wreath on Wanda’s head, Steve merely nods.

“Lead the way,”  he holds out his hand in earnest. Pallas ruffles his feathers.

First, you introduce him to the Dryads. A group of women with varying shades of rust-colored hair and bark-like skin, who saunter out of the oak trees.

“They were just moving them to clear the area,” you explain.

Steve just responds with a polite nod, because yes, of course, that was completely normal and didn't phase him one bit. He had witnessed aliens from space. Wood nymphs shouldn’t be all that surprising to him.

This is followed by the Anthousai, a group of flower nymphs who are shorter than even Wanda, all of which are decorated with intricate crowns of blooms and blossoms. 

The woman you had been speaking to earlier is Euphrosyne. She offers the owl on Steve’s shoulder a polite pat on the head.

“My half-sister. Goddess of joy, mirth, and merriment.”

Followed by a doe-eyed red-head who is named Pannychis who you explain is the Goddess of all-night festivity. And Thalia, who is also your half-sister, and the one in charge of the festive celebration and the provision of a luxurious banquet.

“Uhm, this is my nephew, Comus.”

A young teen with strawberry-blonde curls blinks up at him from behind the edge of a golden cup.

“Son of Dionysus, quite infamous for his revelries, festivities, and general merry-making. Which, weren’t you supposed to be helping Euphrosyne plan?”

“Don’t tell her where I am,” The boy smirks before he dips away, grabbing another goblet from a table as he goes.

“And there’s still a few around here who are too busy to introduce just yet. But… yeah, that’s the beginning of this madness, really,” you pause, looking around with your hands upon your hips. And then you turn to look back at him, “I’m honestly so sorry to be dragging you into this. If you want to just hang back at the house tonight and try to ignore the noise, I completely understand.”

Steve leans against one of the posts keeping the canopy aloft. Pallas gnaws at his hair.

“Are you kidding me? Like I’m going to miss out on this?”

Your brows lift in surprise, “Seriously?”

“Yeah, of course. You’re one of the most important people in my life, Athena. If you want me here, I’m going to be here.”

“Ooh, taking one for the team, I see. Well, even if I can’t have everyone else here tonight, at least I’ll have one Avenger on my side.”

He laughs, “I mean, it’s not every day you get to experience an otherworldly festival steeped in antiquity.”

You stare at him for a long silent moment before you shove at his left arm. Steve lets you move him, a laugh startling out from his chest.

“Hey, you’re making me sound old!”

“Aren’t you a little, considering?” he gestures at the flowing tunics of your companions and relatives.

“Yeah, but… you don’t have to say it like that.”

Steve wraps his free arm around your shoulders, gently jostling you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you a little sensitive about the age thing? Cause, take it from someone who frequently gets the grandpa jokes. I just want you to know, that I’m never dropping this.”

“Come on, Rogers! It’s funny when we say it.”

He snorts, “No trouble dealing it out my way, but not as fun when it’s returned, is that it?”

“Well,” you pull away from his grasp, wrapping your hands around your arms as you turn away, an indignant clip to your voice. “You know what they say about ladies and their ages.”

Steve laughs, trailing after you before he can wrap his arms around your torso. A furious blush graces his face as you lean back into him, your head against his sternum.

“Don’t be like that. It’ll be fun, I promise,” he speaks into your hair.

Your right hand comes up and pats at his arm that’s resting across your chest.

“You say that now. Wait till you see the dress they put me in.”

A twitch of arousal sparks through his body and he quickly releases you from his hold, but he plays it off with a laugh.

“Honestly, I can’t wait.”

You smack his chest with your hand, “You’re the worst, Rogers. Please remember that. The worst.”

As you walk away to go and converse with your relatives, Steve shyly scratches the back of his head. 

He makes the unfortunate mistake of glancing over at the twins, who are both looking back at him with nearly identical smirks on their faces. Fantastic, as if he needed two teenagers on his case now as well.

Turning in the opposite direction, he makes it up the hill - back toward the house - when he extends his arm out for Pallas to move down on.

The tawny brown owl blinks up at Steve with his dark eyes and a curious tilt of his head.

“Hey, pal. If I gave you a message, do you think you could deliver it to a few friends for me?”

He squawks in return, almost as if sensing what the supersoldier has planned.

The fading orange hues of sunset are just barely visible through the gaps in the forest’s lush canopy. Steve smiles at your loyal companion as he swoops across the established party area before landing in a tree along the outskirts of the circle. Keeping watch like always.

People in flowing robes and tunics move through the space with such ease that Steve feels even more like an outlier than usual. The twins, and even Vision, are in attendance - at your insistence. Wanda’s hair is loose, adorned by that white floral wreath still. Her eyes are alight as she watches the strangers with unbridled excitement.

Even Pietro has a leaf-woven crown on as he tries to chat up another girl with long dark hair and amethyst eyes.

“Guys, this is my sister, Hebe,” you interrupt with a tight smile as you loop your arm through the girl’s - effectively pulling her away from the boy. “Hedylogos was looking for you.”

The girl’s cheeks blush into a full blossom of red as she quickly darts off toward the other end of the party.

You look down at Pietro before slapping his shoulder with a light hand, “Seriously? If I’m told you’re hitting on another one of my relatives, I swear I’m going to throw those shoes you like out.”

He balks, “You wouldn’t.”

Steve smirks, lowering his stance to speak to the teen, “I wouldn’t risk it, personally.”

Wanda snorts, looping her arm through her brother’s, “Come. I see food and drink.”

“Guys, don’t take anything in a gold goblet!” Steve calls out.

“Especially if a man in purple robes hands it to you!” You add with a laugh.

With a sigh, you turn back to look at the supersoldier. Steve’s already looking down at you with warmth in his gaze. It’s like witnessing a different side to you, free from the heaviness of battle. Right now, you were removed from the usual expectations put upon you and it was beautiful to see. How you moved between the party-goers, an easy smile on your face, and a laugh on your lips.

“This is nice,” he comments, looking around at the simple gathering.

You blink.

“You know it hasn’t actually started yet, right?”

And then you’re sipping red wine from a goblet encrusted with jewels and you’ve got a playful look on your face and Steve, for as out of place as he feels, just wants to kiss you right here and now.

He shoves his hands into his jean pockets instead.

“Is that right?”

“Come on!” you exclaim, “We’re Olympians, this is barely a family gathering. Wait till the man of the hour appears.”

Shaking his head with mirth, he asks, “I thought you were the one being celebrated here?”

“Oh, I am,” you reassure as you take another drink. “But, well, you’ve met my brother but you haven’t really seen him yet. You’ll… you’ll understand what I mean.”

Accepting that as answer enough, Steve gives a nod and takes a sip of his own wine as more and more people begin to appear in the clearing.

It would surprise him if SHIELD or some other government agency wasn’t picking up on all of the energy signatures materializing in this forest in the middle of Vermont. Slowly but surely, the dance floor and surrounding tables and benches are filled up by more and more patrons.

You introduce him to a four-armed woman with a golden crown. Her dark hair is adorned with a large white lotus blossom. She smiles sweetly at him as she converses with you in another language entirely. Steve watches the two of you as her companion, a swan, pokes around at his shoes.

When she leaves, you turn back to him with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I keep abandoning you to go talk to everyone.”

Steve’s brow scrunches in confusion, “It’s your party, you shouldn’t expect to have me glued to your side the entire night. Go, I can hang out with the kids and Vision. I’m sure you haven’t seen some of your friends in a while.”

“No,” you sigh, encircling his wrist with your palm. “Having you beside me is the only thing keeping me from running off right now.”

Looking down at you with an aching expression, Steve slowly slips his hand free from your grasp, only to lock your fingers together.

“Okay,” he says.

Your worried brow softens, a smile teasing at your lips once again.

“I do miss them. I haven’t seen Sarasvati in ages, but… I prefer small gatherings over, well, this.”

He squeezes your hand, “I understand, trust me.”

As a sense of true peace settles around the two of you, you’re swiftly interrupted by the sound of hand drums beating out a melody.

“Ladies! Gentlemen! And gentle beings alike!”

Steve cranes his neck, and you stand upon your toes, as a shrill voice calls out from the center of the party.

“That’s Eupheme,” you whisper.

“I have the sole honor of presenting the Lord of Celebration himself. The Granter of Blessings, the Kind-Hearted Savior, the God of Wine, our dearest Dionysus!”

Several people cheer, others clap, and some even whoop in delight as a processional band from atop the ledge of the forest floor begins to play.

“Τοῦ Διὸς ὁ παῖς ὁ Βάκχος, ὁ λυσίφρων - ”

As the large swaying line of white-robbed people begins making their way down to the party, you lean up - clutching his shoulder - as you begin translating:

“The son of Zeus, Bacchus,” you whisper-sing into his ear. “The liberator of mind, the Lyaeos, the Lyaeos, the Lyaeos.”

“ὅταν εἰς φρένας τὰς ἐμάς εἰσέλθηι - ”

Steve can feel the warmth of your breath against the shell of his ear and the length of his neck. He grips your waist in his right hand as you continue translating.

“When he enters in our mind. By making it drunk, making it drunk, making it drunk - ”

“διδάσκει με, διδάσκει με, διδάσκει με χορεύειν.”

“He teaches me, he teaches me, he teaches me to dance.”

The processional breaks through the space, a line of people and goats and musicians. Aloft a gold and purple cushion, held by four young men, sits your brother. A laurel wreath around his head as he raises his goblet at the many faces he spots in the crowd. He cheers your name as he passes, but you’re still there glued to Steve’s side. The melodic sound of your words against his ear is a heated delight.

“ἔχω δέ τι καὶ τερπνόν o, ὁ τᾶς μέθας ἐραστάς, ὁ τᾶς μέθας ἐραστάς,”

“And I the lover of drunkeness have, desire for satisfaction, desire for satisfaction.”

His fingers dig into the jut of your waist, pulling you impossibly tighter as everyone around you throws flower petals at the God of Wine.

“With beats and songs makes me happily as does Aphrodite, Aphrodite, Aphrodite. He teaches me, he teaches me, he teaches me to dance. He teaches me, he teaches me, he teaches me to dance. Again I want to dance, to dance - Oh!”

You’re pulled from his grasp by two women adored in ivy crowns. Giving a sheepish smile in his direction, Steve watches as you’re tugged into the center of the celebration.

As his heart eases back to a normal beat and the furious heat in his cheeks begins to lessen, the drummers begin beating upon their handheld instruments.

“My most beautiful friends!” Your brother cheers, his sloshing goblet held high above his head. “Tonight, on this blessed last night of Hekatombaiōn, I wish you all to welcome my lovely sister: the Champion of Olympus, the Beloved, the Wise, the Traveler Amongst Mortals, the Goddess Athena!”

Several loud whistles ring out across the forest as Steve joins in with the clapping. You’re shoved into your brother’s side, an unabashed smile on your face as you push back your hair.

“As the unofficial party master - ”

“Unofficial, seriously?” you ask with a laugh.

“I hereby declare that this Greater Panathenaia begins!”

As the crowd cheers in delight, the musicians belting out a jaunty tune, Steve watches as you shove at your brother’s arm before wrapping him up into a quick hug.

“You’re the worst, you know that right?” he can hear you ask.

The man shrugs, completely unbothered, “You’ll thank me later.”

“Wow.”

Steve turns his head, a smile immediately gracing his face as he spots Tony amongst the robe-clad patrons.

“I’m not gonna lie, I feel a little overdressed.”

He claps his hand in the supersoldier’s for a quick shake as the rest of the team slowly appears from behind him.

“Oh,” a sultry voice comes from beside Tony, a soft hand caressing his face. 

Steve’s brows rise.

“We can fix that,” the woman grins, a hand pulling at the billionaire’s arm as she begins to drag him away from Steve.

Tony chokes, “I mean, when I said that, actually, what I meant was - ”

Steve laughs, a deep belly rumble, as Stark helplessly looks back at him before he truly disappears somewhere into the roving group of partiers.

“We’re never letting him live this down,” Nat smirks, arms crossed as she watches the procession swoop you up into a dance number - you stuck in the middle as they circle around you. “Or Seven, for that matter.”

“Thanks for coming,” he says, his eyes never really traveling farther than you.

“Shame she tried to keep us out of the loop with it. Families though, they can be rough from what I’ve heard.”

He shrugs, taking a sip from his goblet. 

“Her’s don’t seem all that bad.”

Nat’s emerald eyes meet his in the lantern light and flickering flames, “You still haven’t met the old man yet, have you Rogers?”

With a twisted grin that seems to say it all, she takes Clint’s hand - he’s wide-eyed and his mouth is fully agape - and blends into the crowd.

Steve lets that thought simmer for just a moment in his head before he gulps down the rest of his wine and successfully pushes it to the back of his mind. Weaving through the other patrons, he spots the twins at a table under the canopy - talking to a group of Olympians who look around their age. But with godlike immortality, they could well be a thousand or so years older than Wanda and Pietro.

He smiles as the girl catches his eye, offering her a nod of reassurance before he moves on past the overflowing tables of what he now understands to be offerings.

You had explained it all rather quickly that afternoon to him. But he takes his time looking down at the array of items. Lots of olives still. But now he also spots wooden owl statues, pomegranates, oranges, feathers, small embroideries, and drawings. Hell, some of them looked like fan art the team regularly received, but with your image upon the crayon-dusted lines.

He accidentally bumps into the arm of a boy as a group of women crowds into the tent. Steve goes to apologize, but when the kid looks up at him, he feels rooted to the spot when he notices the rather large unfurled white wings on the youth’s back.

“Sorry, a bit of bad luck there, right? You must be one of those mortals my aunt’s always going on about. I’m Anteros. And you are… oh, wow. I see. Bit of a heart-on-the-sleeve type, yeah?”

As Steve goes to back away from the boy, the kid merely shakes out his bouncing dark curls and laughs. 

“You’re not used to that are you? Don’t worry,” he smiles as he nabs an apple from your offering table, taking a loud bite out of the fruit; juice dribbling down his chin. “She’ll get there eventually. I might not be part of the Fates, but I can see some things in that regard. Mmm,” he chuckles, chewing the white chunks with a slightly opened mouth. 

“Better stay away from my friend Pothos, or he’ll read you right down to the bone with all that energy going on in there.”

“Right,” is all Steve can say because he honestly has no idea what exactly has just happened, only that he feels very raw and vulnerable being next to this kid whose eyes are far too old for his youthful face and body.

As he exits the tent, he runs right into you. Oh, thank god.

“Hey,” you beam up at him with dazzling dark eyes. “Did I just see Hedona fitting Tony for a chiton? Also, when did they get here? How did they know?”

“Might have had help from Pallas…”

“Steve,” you beam.

But there must be a look on his face because your features fall.

“You okay?”

“Wha - yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Sorry, there’s just a lot of relatives around and I feel a little… weird about meeting literal mythological legends. I think I just met your nephew possibly?”

You make a humming noise in your throat as you look over his shoulder, “Oh, Cronus. The Erotes. No wonder you look frazzled, Rogers. My deepest apologies. Stay away from the young boys with hearts in their eyes, okay? Menaces, all of them.”

And then you’re tugging on his arm, forcing Steve’s head closer to your lips.

“Come on, I’m trying to avoid the Charites for as long as possible.”

Words come to his lips like why and what, but they’re droned out by the raucous sound of music and inebriated party-goers.

Steve lets you lead him by the hand through the madness and joy. Swerving through dance circles and casual drinking groups, offering a word of thanks for attending the celebration and a surprising introduction on his behalf.

“Seshat! Thoth, so glad you could make it.”

You’ve just run into a woman with heavy kohl-lined eyes and a yellow animal print tunic. But beside her stands a man with a bird-like head and a long blue cowl. He’s only wearing a low-hanging robe around his waist. He tilts his head in a very bird-ish fashion as he looks down at the two of you.

“It’s been so long, my friend!” the woman beams, grasping your free hand in hers.

You hadn’t let go of Steve’s right hand yet. He’s trying his best not to feel smug about it.

He’s been introduced to the large and incredibly interesting friend group you had long been keeping to yourself. The supersoldier meets a man with a lion head, an Aztec or possibly Mayan deity (Steve couldn’t actually hear his name over the sound of the musicians striking up another song). As well as so many Olympians, he’s fully lost track.

But above all of the noise and splendor, he hears Clint start roaring with laughter. Trailing his eyes across the crowd, he immediately spots the source of his amusement. Tapping you on the shoulder, he stands back and watches.

You turn, the question of what is on your lips, but you immediately hold a hand to your mouth to keep from outright bursting into laughter.

“Okay, little more breezy than what I was expecting,” Tony admits as he draws closer to them.

“Wow, it’s… quite a look,” Steve attempts to restrain his own laughter.

Stark does a little spin, showcasing the simple red tunic with a single gold clasp at his left shoulder. The arc reactor glows a faint blue light from the center of the cloth, making him look both ancient and alien all at once. The hem of the garment is far above his knees, with the threat of showcasing more than Steve would ever wish to see just a sudden gust of wind away.

A camera clicks, followed by a flash, as Nat tucks away her phone.

“Very dashing. Watch out for breezes.”

“Eegh,” Tony groans, holding his hands to the hem of the fabric.

Steve’s so distracted by the strange display in front of him, that he’s failed to notice the woman you’re now talking with.

“I didn’t realize mortal men could be so dashing.”

“Surely you remember the likes of Perseus or Achilles.”

“Mhmm, but there’s something just... intriguing about these new ones. They don’t need you or the All-Father to be powerful, they just are on their own.”

His ears are burning as he tries not to interrupt your conversation, but then he feels your fingers slipping around his wrist, squeezing lightly against his pulse point.

“Sorry, I don’t think I had the chance to introduce you. Philophrosyne, this is my dearest friend, Steve Rogers.”

“Oh, pleasure’s all mine,” she smiles brightly. “But, I’m afraid I’m here for more nefarious means, apologies, sir.”

And then she’s got a hand on your forearm and she’s calling out, “SHE’S OVER HERE!”

Shooting Steve a helpless look, you whisper, “Save me,” before you’re dragged away by a group of smiling women.

He hears mention of a dress and Steve just chuckles, watching you go.

“You look divine, my lady,” one of the young girls says as she looks up at you with sheer delight.

“Thank you,” you respond with genuine gratitude.

While you had made a rather large fuss about the party and the dress and, well, everything to do with the celebrations, you did sort of enjoy it. Long ago, the Athenians had worshipped you in grand week-long festivals. It had been a point of pride and amusement for you as your temple was filled with offerings in your name.

Now, several millennia later, you found yourself, at times, nostalgic for those days. The concept of birthdays had never been a tradition amongst your people. But, as the decades drew on, some small mortal festivities became familiar on Olympus.

“It’s a very fine dress, indeed. I can see the love and hours spent upon it,” you remark with a wink.

Gazing before the standing mirror in your room, back at the house, you admire the sky blue peplos. The sleeves and waist are embellished with golden floral trim, with hints of purple thread that seem to shimmer against the soft blue linen. The sleeves are clasped by two golden pins, each of which is decorated with an owl’s head.

The loose fabric sways as you walk back across the pastures with your personal procession of weavers. Only, when you catch the strange silhouette against the moonlight, do you beg your companions for a moment of solitude.

Finding yourself following in the familiar footsteps left from a few months prior, you move to join Thor against the tall grass of the overlook.

“Ah, my Lady Athena,” he greets, beaming down at you. “‘Tis a fine garment.”

“Thank you. I had hoped to see you at the festivities this night, my friend.”

He chuckles. The loose strands of his hair flutter in the evening breeze, a warm stretch of summer night blanketing the sky with splatters of glistening stars.

“I can not intrude on such an event.”

Biting at your lip for just a moment, you nod, “Well, I suppose that would be true if you were not on the arm of the one being honored.”

His dark eyes gaze down at your offered arm for just a beat before his bellowing laugh echoes across the countryside.

When the two of you, and your procession, appear at the top of the hill leading down to the forest clearing, the musicians break off as your sister, of all people, takes the floor.

“My most gentle patrons, I wish for you all to now gaze your eyes upon the Daughter of Zeus, the Goddess… Athena.”

Giving a small giggle of anticipation, your hand grips Thor’s arm as you descend.

“My friends, family, and drunken guests!” you call out, receiving a chorus of laughter. “Tonight, I wish you all to welcome my honored guest with open arms as you would me. The Protector of the Nine Realms, the Wielder of Mjolnir, the Champion of Midgard, the God of Thunder, the Son of Odin, Thor.”

A few people clap, but you’re quick to add on:

“And if you refuse his presence, I’m going to have Dionysus throw out the good wine.”

“DON’T YOU DARE!” Comes the immediate and indignant shout of terror from your brother.

Soon, the partiers begin to laugh and cheer as the musicians pick back up with another song.

Thor leans down, kissing your cheek.

“Thank you for allowing me to grace your… humble celebration. Wait - ” His voice clips as he looks out over the crowd. “Is that… is that Bragi? I can’t be here but he damn well can?”

You give the God of Thunder a shrug, “To be fair, you have tried to kill or badly maim most people here, Odinson. You can’t expect them to not hold a grudge.”

“But… but…” he mutters, eyes shifting between you and his fellow Asgardian.

“And Bragi gets on well with a few of us, he’s always around for poetry readings and the every-other-decade book club meeting.”

His features pale, “You’re kidding me.”

“Wish I was,” you grin in return, lightly smacking his cheek with your hand. “Have fun. Don’t bed too many of my relatives. If they don’t try to slap you first, now that I think of it.”

You watch as he heads over to the bar filled with many of your brother’s finest spirits. With a smile on your face that seems incapable of fading, you make your way through the crowd in search of your other friends.

To your surprise, you find Steve locked into a conversation with both Sersi and Sprite - who remains in her natural form.

“ - yeah, no. We’ve known each other for… a while. Uhm, college roommates actually, in London.”

“Wow, really?” Steve asks, with a voice that clearly says that he’s not buying it, but his smile doesn’t really give him away and Sersi seems oblivious to his suspicion.

But as he goes to take a sip from his goblet, his eyes catch sight of you. And you can’t help it as you wrap your hands over your bare arms as you make your way over, feeling sheepish and strange in the garments of your kind.

“Whoa,” he says as he sets his goblet down. “You look… wow.”

“Hopefully that was a good wow?” you try to joke.

Sprite snorts, face in her goblet, “Obviously.”

“Hey! See you’ve met my friend from college and her… niece?”

Sersi nods quickly in return. Steve just turns his head, hiding his blossoming smile from her.

“Anyway!” she turns back, grabbing hold of your hands. “As is tradition, I have a gift for you!”

“Come on,” you begin to lament. “How many times do I need to say this: Sersi, my love, you do not need to get me anything. Your friendship is more than enough.”

“Just take the frog!” Sprite groans.

You flash the redhead a smile as Sersi shyly hands over a beautiful pale jade frog.

“Wow…” you murmur, cradling the fragile object in your hands. “This must be…”

“From the gift shop, yes,” the Eternal smiles tightly.

So it was very very old then.

The handicraft is exquisite, the jade is smooth and polished. Maybe… third century, around the Eastern Han dynasty, if you had to hazard an immediate guess?

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit, looking up at one of your oldest friends.

“Well,” she shrugs, chuckling. “Just say thanks. I managed to convince Kingo not to send a golden statute your way this year.”

“He almost went for an ice sculpture instead,” the redhead hums, eyes trained on one of the Erotes chatting nearby. Oh, not Himeros. Honestly, Sprite - have some decency.

“I’m sorry,” Tony butts in. “Are we referring to the Kingo? As in, the action movie superstar of the Indian subcontinent?”

You shrug, looking over at the billionaire, “What can I say? He was a friend from college.”

Tony balks for all of ten seconds before he snaps his mouth closed, “Well, since we’re doing gift-giving, which by the way, your royal highness - ” he steps closer to you, looking completely un-intimidating in his high-hem chiton.

“ - do you know how difficult it is to buy someone the perfect gift when they fail to mention that it’s their birthday and you have twenty minutes to be in the air?”

“Sorry?” you reply with a sheepish tone.

He clicks his tongue, “Yeah, well, your perfect gift is back at the house. Try to hold your thanks and just promise to show up for team training every now and then,”

Dipping away, toward the overflowing bar, you all watch him go. 

Sprite smirks, “I like him.”

“Don’t,” Sersi warns with little to no playfulness as she steers the younger-looking of the two of them away.

“No, yeah, I’m with Stark on this,” Clint perks up from his lounging position on one of the benches. Natasha sits beside him with his feet on her lap. “Are we just supposed to ignore your celebrity friend list or what?”

“I know one celebrity, okay?”

“And this? The plethora of pantheons? I’m pretty sure I saw Nike around here because I recognized her from her statue. That’s how insane this is. Speaking of, where’s the old man? Mr. Thunderbolt himself?”

You scoff, leaning back into Steve for invisible support.

“Clint, I’m from Olympus, this is basically a reunion. One in which, the All-Father will not be attending. Not as long as we’re on Earth.”

He lets out a low whistle as Natasha shoves his feet to the ground.

“Ignore him,” she says with a flicker of humor in her dark eyes. “And hey, happy birthday - ” you’re suddenly wrapped into a rare Widow hug, one that you accept all too eagerly as you wrap your arms around her shoulders. “How old are you, by the way?”

“Nooo, I’m not falling down that rabbit hole. Rogers already wants to start up Grandma Athena jokes. I’m good.”

The supersoldier chuckles, you can feel the heat of his breath on your shoulder.

“I’m just saying, they’re more fun to direct at someone else for a change.”

Natasha has a curious gaze in her eyes as she glances around at the other patrons, “I’m going to find out tonight no matter what. Might be easier to just tell me yourself.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” you tease, turning away to grab Steve by the hand as you disappear into the dance circle in the center of the party.

You don’t intend to stay there, in the middle of the dancers, but you’re almost landlocked by them. Unable to break free from their midst. Offering Steve a shrug and a laugh that can’t even be fully heard above the music, you begin to sway along with the others.

He remains still for just a moment, then a moment more, before he leans down to whisper-shout into your ear.

“You want to dance?”

With a nod, you lean up to reply, “I mean, it’s a party after all. Might as well.”

“I’m not really a dancer,” he laments with a flush of pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

You reach up, grabbing hold of the back of his neck to bring him down to your level. Fixing his eyes with a look, you say, “Neither am I.”

His laugh reaches your ears just as the musicians begin to play another number. A loud melody followed by several dancers clapping to the beat. Grabbing hold of both of your hands, Steve spins you around in a dizzying circle before you’re drawn back to him.

With an infectious smile upon your face, you let him lead you in a small space left only to the two of you as the rest of the dancers move and spin around you both.

One of his hands drops down to your waist, while the other dangles over your opposite shoulder as you move in closer - drawn into each other’s orbit like the Earth and the ever-present Moon. Resting a hand on his left shoulder, your fingers tickle the small hairs at the back of his neck as your other hand moves to his waist.

You sway to the beat of the music and ringing laughter and overall drunkenness as the world simmers down to just the two of you, dancing together, moving as one.

Steve looks nearly predatory with his gaze fixed upon your face, his blue eyes a distant memory as the darkness of his pupils takes hold. In his irises, you can see the dancing flames of the lantern lights and the reflection of your own face. Feeling too close, too hot, too much, you pull back.

Tugging on his left hand, you move yourself into a spin - one that Steve finishes with a laugh as you dip away from him before being drawn back in. He seems to take the hint as he leaves your right hands joined together, with his left situated loosely on your hip.

The hand drums batter away as a chorus melody begins. The pace is fast as feet go flying on the ground, hands clapping together in the air.

“Can’t dance, honestly,” Steve snarks as he spins you around once again.

You love the feeling of the sudden rush of summer breeze as it makes the bottom of your dress billow up. Sweat is dripping down your neck from the closeness of the crowd.

With a smile in return, you remark, “Says the man keeping to the beat.”

He shrugs, dipping you nearly backward before dragging you back up to his side, “I mean, I was no dance hall expert.”

“I don’t believe that,” you laugh, as you twist around him, returning on his right side.

“It’s true,” he says with a softened tone. “I would have had to get a girl to dance with me.”

“Oh, Steve,” you pucker, allowing him to pull you in closer than before, your bodies almost touching - the heat between you is electric. “Well, you have one now and she thinks you’re doing a great job.”

“Is that right?” he grins, his hand moving from your hip to your lower back as you’re drawn in flush against him.

Resting a hand on his shoulder, you nod.

“Class act, really.”

You can feel the light graze of his lips on the top of your head, then another press near your temple, and then one to your forehead.

Maybe that Olympian wine was finally affecting him after all.

When you pull back, his face is flushed and his gaze is unbelievably intense. But it’s the sight over his shoulder that has you frozen.

“Oh my god,” you groan, using the human terminology for the first time.

“What?” he questions, still oblivious.

Pushing on his right shoulder, you have him turning just enough to see -

“Oh, wow.”

“You didn’t tell me Sam was here,” you complain.

“He wandered off before I got the chance to,” he chuckles.

“Good thing her husband isn’t here, or we’d be scraping up bits of him for the next month.”

Steve shudders at the imagery.

It wasn’t every day Aphrodite went searching for other companions. Considering she still held a flame for Ares and was married to Hephaestus. But this? This had to be crossing some lines even for a drunken festival.

The man has a hand in her hair - blonde, you note - and their lips haven’t fully disconnected since you first spotted them. She’s got a hand on his chest, as she leans further and further into him.

“Well,” you proclaim. “I’ve officially lost any appetite I might have had. No offense to Sam, of course.”

“I don’t know,” Steve shakes his head. “I think it’s mostly him.”

With a sudden burst of giggles, you grab hold of Steve’s right wrist and proceed to tug him away from the dance circle - far away from the line of sight of an Avenger trying to get it on with your sister.

Pulling your hair back and over your shoulder, you shake your head once again. 

“At my party, of all places. Honestly.”

Steve wanders alongside you, careful of the forest floor as you dip away from the main festivities.

“Give a man enough wine…” 

Looking over your shoulder at him, you remark, “Seems like you might have had a bit yourself, Rogers.”

With a shrug, his eyes flash up to meet your gaze.

“I had two glasses, that’s hardly anything.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you tease. “Dionysus’ spirits are said to be even stronger than Asgardian liquor. I’d be careful if I was you.”

Resting against the cool bark of a tree, you blow upward at the loose strands of your hair that are sticking to your warm forehead. The early August heat was doing nothing for your sweaty skin and rapidly beating heart.

You’re halfway up the hill and you’re able to look upon the entire party from here. With Sam and your sister out of sight, you manage to spot Tony sitting on top of the bar - loudly proclaiming some outrageous story to a group of Olympians. Natasha, one of the few redheads in the crowd, is spotted a moment later, weaving her way through your relatives with disturbing ease. Clint, is in the middle of the dance floor, jumping up and down to the song.

Pietro has cornered another one of the Muses. He’s leaning against the post of the canopy, speaking into her hair. Wanda is surrounded by some of the Anthousai who all seem to be crafting new floral wreaths together. Thor is actively armwrestling Agon and you knew that was likely to go on all night. The god of competition would not be easily swayed by a possible defeat.

Steve is a few feet away from you, a little lower on the hill, as he too watches on. The paper in your pocket tempts your hands once again. 

You had been toying with it back at the tower before Sokovia. Hell, you had been contemplating it since 2014, when SHIELD was falling and you were technically considered dead for almost 48 hours.

A hand taps at your left shoulder and you completely startle.

“Cronus! You ass! You can’t do that!” you shriek as you slap Hermes' shoulder repeatedly.

Steve looks on edge while your brother merely tilts his head back and laughs.

To be fair, the last time the supersoldier had been in the same room with your brother, he hadn’t been an entirely charming force to be held.

“Oh, come on. Too easy,” he beams.

“Those damn sandals,” you grumble - staring down at the winged footwear that allowed him such stealth-like advantages.

“You love them,” he retorts, flashing his ankle as he tilts them for you to see. “I see you’re having fun.” Hermes lifts his gaze, nodding, “Captain Rogers.”

Steve offers a nod in return, his hands situated on his belt.

“I trust that my gift was helpful,” he gestures at the chain of your pendant.

Pulling the locket free from the peplos, you admire the silver jewelry, “I thought it was a gift from the Fates.”

“Deliverer of gifts then. Speaking of - ”

You watch with widened eyes as a golden halo of light appears from the heavens - three packages floating down into his waiting hands.

“Father sends his well wishes, of course.”

Taking the first box from him - a tiny thing, about the size of the palm of your hand - you lift the cover off.

“Oh my gosh,” you murmur as you stare down at the dazzling blue gems.

Hermes snorts, “I’m sure you know the meaning.”

With a nod, you carefully pull the first earring free.

A teardrop lapis lazuli with a golden clutch.

Looking back at him, you remark, “They’re stunning.”

He says nothing as he hands over the second package done up in purple wrapping.

From within, you retrieve an intricately beaded diadem. The peacock colors are entwined with gold latticework. It’s so delicate in your hand, that you barely even want to pull it free. But then you’re looking down at your companion, calling out a simple:

“Steve?”

The supersoldier, with a wary eye, takes a step up, then another. He’s standing directly in front of you as you offer him up the tiara. With a gentle look upon his face, he carefully lifts the diadem, rotating it around, before situating it carefully on the crown of your head.

With a whistle, he steps back.

“Hera always goes overboard with this one,” Hermes comments in Steve’s direction. “Athena’s about the only one she can stand.”

“Not true,” you murmur.

He blinks, “Seriously? We want to walk down that path?”

With a slow shake of your head - no reason to ruin a perfectly nice night - your brother’s smile slips free as he hands over the last package.

It’s a scroll, wrapped in on itself with a simple white ribbon.

“Careful now,” he comments. “That’s an antique.”

With a cautious eye trained upon your brother, you begin to unfurl the paper. The first glance at the contents has you rolling it back up as you snap, “Did you steal this?”

Holding up defensive hands, he grins, “I might be the God of Thieves, dear sister, but this came from a friend of ours. A certain… woman who puts even my speed to shame.”

You gape.

“She didn’t.”

He beams, “I think we both know she did.”

Turning it slightly for Steve to look at, you unfurl the map once again, “This is the Ebstorf Map.”

The paper extends out, further and further to the point that both men have to hold onto a portion of the map.

“It was created in the mid-13th century by a group of nuns living in modern-day Germany. This was said to have been destroyed in 1943, during the bombing of Hanover. This shouldn’t... oh, that clever woman.”

If anyone in your known circle could have gotten this to safety and kept it perfectly preserved, it would have been Makkari.

Steve’s eyes rove across the intricate work, an artist’s soul soaking up a historical artifact. One that probably shouldn’t be held by physical hands, now that you think of it. Carefully folding it back up and rolling it together, you push it over into Steve’s capable hands as you latch yourself around your brother.

“Thank you! And tell her thank you as well. Cronus, I should get her something in return. Wait a minute.”

You vanish from the forest before either man can utter a single word, appearing deep within the basement of the house. Well, it was listed as a basement, it was more like a museum storage facility, in all honesty.

Makkari might have her own collection on the Domo, but yours was equally impressive. Both between your home in Vermont and your temple back on Olympus. It only takes you a moment to find what you’re looking for - the perfect thing for her never-ending collection - before you reappear.

The two men look up, apparently caught in the middle of a conversation. Steve coughs, taking a step away, as you glance over at him. With a shake of your head, you speak to your brother.

“This isn’t much, but my gratitude can not be understated. Her gift was incredible.”

Hermes eyes you as you attempt to hand over the tablet.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Come on,” you groan. “You know it’ll be safe in her hands.”

With a half-hearted sigh, he takes the emerald tablet from your hands. Oh, she would be wild about it, you just knew it.

“I’ll see that it gets to her with signs of thanks.”

“I appreciate it,” you smile.

Steve helps you get everything back to the house. After rounding up the twins and Vision, the two of you escort your household members back inside. The teens, obviously, were all too willing to stay up late into the morning hours, but you cut them off around 2 AM. And you insisted that he return as well.

Considering the fact that he had just returned from a mission and hadn’t received any proper sleep in nearly 72 hours, he didn’t press too hard about staying back with you to enjoy the festivities.

“Trust me, they’ll only be getting drunker and louder as the night wears on. I can only tolerate so much.”

After Wanda and Pietro head up for the night and Vision disappears to the library down the hall where he had been spending most of his time these past two months, you collapse into a kitchen chair.

Steve lowers himself into the adjoining seat, looking out at the spread of gifts from your closest friends and relatives.

As you pull the diadem from your head, you rub at your tired face - your cheeks puffing up in a slightly adorable fashion.

Laid before him sits a pink bottle with a sea shell emblem, a golden hilt, and a silver dagger. In a very ornate clay vase sits a combination of flowers. You had told him their names, but he can’t recall them now. One has white petals and a yellow center and the others are simple six-petaled white flowers.

From an opened bag on the table, you reach in and begin peeling a mandarin orange for yourself. The sweet citrus scent wafts around him in the hot kitchen - the summer breeze from the open window does nothing to cool the room.

Steve gazes down at the two additional pieces of jewelry you were now adorned with. A golden snake-shaped ring on your left index finger and a dark green jade bracelet on your right wrist.

What’s completely confusing him, however, is the glass in the middle of the table.

Clearing his throat, he finally asks, “What’s with the water?”

You arch a brow as you take another bite of your orange, a dribble of juice sits at the corner of your lips. Your eyes travel to the glass before you swallow your bite.

“My uncle, I’m guessing.”

He nods, but you don’t seem interested in elaborating.

“Is it… special?”

“Steve,” you blink. “It’s water.”

And then you dip your pinky into the glass before bringing the soaked digit up to your lips to suck.

“I’m sorry, salt water.”

“Just… salt water?”

With a snort, you drop the peel on the table and lean back in your seat, arms crossed.

“You’re still not versed on my mythos, after all this time?”

He shrugs, mirroring your position.

“I’d rather hear it from you, honestly. No book can tell me your truth.”

A look settles over your face, one that he thinks is reading as pleased, but he’s a little out of sorts since the third goblet of wine.

“Let’s just say,” you ease. “We don’t get on very well. He was likely required to get me something, but he chose to do so in his own way.”

With a shake of your head, you stand up and pour the glass into the sink.

You stare out the window, at the glowing lights dancing in the center of the forest. Even from a distance, you can both likely make out the continued party down the hill.

After a moment, Steve says, “It’s more than what I got you.”

You turn, fixing him with a gentle look, “Your friendship will be the only thing I ever ask from you. Always, Rogers. No… piece of jewelry or $400 jacket - ” you point at the unwrapped box on the counter; Tony’s gift, “ - will ever be required of you. Just… you. You are enough for me.”

He can’t help it. Standing up and pushing away from the chair, Steve circles your left wrist with his hand as he pulls you in - slowly, gently - to a hug. He can feel the contend sigh you let out against his sternum as you bury your face into his chest. His arms circle your back, fingers tangling into the ends of your hair.

You both stand like that for minutes - though it could be hours with how truly at peace he feels - when, at last, you pull back. There’s a sheepish expression greeting him as you run your palms down the length of your sky-blue dress.

“Bucking tradition, I actually have something for you.”

He groans, closing his eyes, “Now I’m seriously feeling guilty over not giving you a present.”

“Come on,” you beg. “Open.”

When he blinks his eyes back open, he glances down at your extended palms. There in the center of the cupped pair, sits a scrap of paper.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he picks it up and examines the faded brown parchment. Turning it over with his fingers, Steve nearly stumbles.

Because he knows this paper.

He can barely hear your words above the thundering of his beating heart.

“I know, just, okay. So, this has been on my mind for a while now. Basically, this is going to be your link to me now. Whether I’m… across the ocean, or in another dimensional plane. Ever since Russia and honestly, now that we’re going on separate missions with the team, I just… basically - ”

Your fingers smooth over the parchment, landing on the owl constellation marked with ink.

“Long ago, there was a constellation in Pallas’ image. My constellation really. If there ever comes a time when you need me and can not reach me the normal way, I want you to push down on this, like - ” your fingers press into what would be the stomach of the bird, “ - and you’ll get Pallas, who will get me.”

As if on command, the owl swoops up to the window sill, pecking at the glass before you move to let him in. He lands on Steve’s shoulder, gnawing at his hair.

But the supersoldier can’t move, can’t even speak as he stares down at that imagery.

“Hey, I know it’s kind of - ”

He just shakes his head.

“I know this. I’ve seen it before… in my compass.”

You tilt your head, a curious pinch to your brows, “What are you talking about?”

Letting out a breath as he lowers his hands, the paper clenched with his right fist, he explains, “That day that we thought Loki might have been… with the scepter? After New York?”

You nod, after a beat, in understanding.

“You’re saying… you saw this, in the compass? The compass that wasn’t yours.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, feeling the weight of something he can’t even process expel from his chest. “I don’t know how. I just… I remember this being in there.”

Your hands encircle his forearms as you stare up at him.

“There are some things in this universe, that even I can’t explain. Maybe… one day it will make sense. But, I think I’d like to believe that you should hold onto this for maybe more reasons than I originally intended.”

Steve gives a sharp nod, a weird catch in his throat as he says, “Yeah.”

“You’re not going to be far, are you?”

Turning back around, a box in your hands, you shake your head. Pietro looks back at you from the open doorway to his room.

“No, I promised you both that we’d be close by while you get adjusted. I’m two down on the right, and Steve’s one past that. You guys are going to be just fine. Hell, even Vision has a place set up at the end of the hall.”

It had been a strange two weeks, moving everything over to the newly minted Compound.

The twins had their own fears over the move. Pietro had come to enjoy the space at the house in Vermont, the freedom he felt he had with just four other occupants. Now, this place felt a little more… official, and scientific. Tony had a whole section set up for research and development outside of his own personal labs. There were people coming and going nearly all day and night.

Though the private apartments were away from those areas, just looking out the windows would allow you see to the endless flow of people.

Luckily, you managed to lock down a separate corridor near the back of the building, on a lower floor too.

Wanda didn’t like windows. Well, she liked having some windows. But floor-to-ceiling ones made her anxious, and jumpy. She didn’t feel fully protected with them. Tony was all too understanding at your request.

That’s how you found yourselves occupying a hall mostly to yourselves.

Clint and Natasha were in the west wing of the building. Thor and Bruce had designated rooms on the north side of the apartments - though neither room was currently occupied.

Dropping the box off at Wanda’s room, you wipe your hands clean.

You knew it was going to take time for them both to feel comfortable and to adjust to their new living arrangements. But they seemed to understand that this was going to be the safest place for them to be for now.

Even though Tony never went into detail, you understood that the situation outside of the Compound was still… tense, to put it lightly.

Steve glances back at you. He’s on a ladder, helping Wanda arrange her mood lights above her bed.

Sometimes, you wonder exactly where you had been heading all those years ago. The anti-team mindset and your avoidance of people in general. Yet, here you are.

Leaning against the open doorframe, you watch as the pair interact together in hushed tones and soft laughs.

No, you could have never imagined this life for yourself. Not only were you going to have a room here, but you made up your mind that you would in fact be living here, on a semi-permanent basis. No more running back to Olympus at every chance.

You were part of a team now. These were your people, your friends, your pseudo-family.

At the vibration in your pocket, you pull your phone free.

Scoffing at the message - grannie, seriously - you call out, “Hey! Tony says he’s got a free hour if you two wanna head down to do a consult on those uniforms he mentioned.”

Wanda whips around, a look of equal trepidation and excitement mixing together on her face.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I recommend going. Otherwise, he might try and put some armor in there in red and gold tones.”

She makes a face, causing you to chuckle as she waves goodbye to Steve. Running off in search of her brother.

“Kids these days,” you comment for the supersoldier to hear as they both zip past you a moment later. “They grow up so fast.”

He just laughs in return as he folds up the ladder and places it along the wall. She still wanted some kind of canopy hung up above her bed, so you imagined he might have his hands full later.

“So, how are we looking?” he asks as you both head down the hallway toward the main living space.

“Well, it’s not the ‘27 Yankees, but I think we have some hitters.”

Steve snorts as you push through the next set of doors, side by side, striding together through the halls.

“They’re good. We’ll make them into a team.”

You share a smirk with the supersoldier as you make it to the newly finished gym, pausing at the doors as you say, “Let’s beat them into shape.”

With two of your biggest allies out of the picture - hopefully, temporarily - you were faced with the joint decision to mold the newest members into a proper fighting force. Ultron may have had doubts about your ability to come together and work as one, the media might still be feeding those very same doubts to the public, but you were dedicated to proving them all wrong.

Steve enters the gym with an assured look gracing his face. With a nod, the two of you get to work.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Author's Note: Oh my god, not Stethena pseudo-adopting the twins, am I right?

Anyway, here's some importantish notes from this particular chapter that might be of interest to a few people.

Translations: - rodičia: parents - otec: father - bastardi: bastards - bodaj ho: damn it

Clothing: - Chiton (image) - Peplos (image)

Gifts: - Lapis Lazuli earrings from Zeus - A peacock beaded diadem from Hera - A map from Hermes - Perfume from Aphrodite - A dagger and golden hilt from Hephaestus - A clay vase from Hestia - Narcissus flowers from Persephone - Asphodel flowers from Hades - Mandarin oranges from Demeter - A gold snake ring from Asclepius - A jade bracelet from Dionysus - A glass of salt water from Poseidon

The Guest List:

Fauns: half-human, half-goat creatures

Euphrosyne: goddess of good cheer, joy, mirth, and merriment

Dryades: tree and forest nymphs

Anthousai: flower nymphs

Pannychis: goddess of all-night festivity

Thalia: goddess of festive celebrations and luxurious banquets

Comus: god of revelry, merrymaking, and festivity; Athena’s nephew through Dionysus

Hebe: cupbearer of the Olympians; Athena’s half-sister through Zeus and Hera

Hedylogos: one of the Erotes, god of sweet talk and flattery

Sarasvati: Hindu goddess of art, knowledge, music, speech, and learning

Eupheme: goddess of words of good omen, acclamation, praise, applause, and shouts of triumph

Dionysus

Hedone: goddess of pleasure, enjoyment, and delight

Anteros: one of the Erotes, god of requited love; Athena’s nephew through Aphrodite and Ares

Pothos: one of the Erotes, god of sexual longing, yearning, and desire

Seshat: Egyptian goddess of wisdom, knowledge, inventory of writing, consort of Thoth

Thoth: Egyptian god of wisdom, knowledge, writing, magic, science, art

Apedemak: African lion-headed god of war

Mixcoatl: Aztec god of battle, hunting, civilization, and stars

Philophrosyne: goddess of friendliness, kindness, and welcome

Aphrodite

Bragi: Norse god of poetry

Sersi

Sprite

Himeros: one of the Erotes, god of sexual desire

Agon: god of contest

Hermes

Other guests in attendance:

Adephagia: goddess of satiety and gluttony

Agele: goddess of radiant good health

Aglaea: one of the Charites, goddess of beauty, adornment, splendor, and joy

Aike: goddess of prowess and courage

Ame-no-Uzume: Japanese goddess of dawn, meditation, and the arts

Angelia: goddess of messages, tidings, and proclamations

Antheia: one of the Charites, goddess of flowers and wreaths 

Apollonis: a muse; Athena’s niece through Apollo

Arete: goddess of virtue, excellence, goodness, and valor

Aristaeus: god of bee-keeping, cheese-making, and olive-growing; Athena’s nephew through Apollo

Bait Pandi: Filipino (Bagobo) goddess of weaving

Borysthenis: a muse; Athena’s niece through Apollo

Caerus: god of opportunity

Calliope: muse of epic poetry

Cathubodua: Celtic goddess of war and battle

Cephisso: a muse; Athena’s niece through Apollo

Clio: muse of history

Dikaiosyne: goddess of justice and righteousness; Athena’s half-sister through Zeus

Eirene: goddess of peace; half-sister through Zeus

Ekecheiria: goddess of truce, armistice, and cessation of hostilities

Eleos: goddess of mercy, pity, and compassion

Eleutheria: goddess of liberty

Elpis: goddess of hope and expectation

Eros: one of the Erotes, god of love and sex; Athena’s nephew through Aphrodite and Ares

Erato: muse of lyric poetry

Eucleia: goddess of good repute and glory

Eupraxia: goddess of well-being

Euterpe: muse of musical poetry

Gamayun: Slavic goddess of knowledge and wisdom

Gelos: god of laughter

Harmonia: goddess of harmony and concord; Athena’s niece through Ares and Aphrodite

Heimarmene: goddess of shared fate/destiny

Helios: god of the Sun and guardian of oaths

Hermaphroditus: one of the Erotes, god of unions, androgyny, marriage, and sex; Athena’s nephew through Hermes and Aphrodite

Himeros: one of the Erotes, god of sexual desire

Horme: goddess of impulse or effort, eagerness, starting an action

Iris: goddess of the rainbow and divine messenger

Nike: goddess of victory

Pasithea: one of the Charites, goddess of rest and relaxation

Philotes: goddess of friendship, affection, and sex

Polyhymnia: muse of sacred poetry

Polymatheia: muse of knowledge

Tekhne: goddess of art, craft, and technical skill

Terpsichore: muse of dance and choral poetry

Theros: youth god of summer

Okay, so while I have had so much fun writing the last few chapters in this arc and connecting lots of moments together into this big finale, I'm gonna need a bit of time before I move on to tackle the Civil War arc. I need to perfect the plot just so and make sure I have all of my loose ends wrapped up before we delve into that realm just yet.

So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for those of you who have kept up with the story and have been reblogging and commenting on it. It's honestly keeping my passion for this story going. So, thank you again, and hopefully I'll see you soon with the next installment :)

[rubysramblers]

Sammy Peters, a.k.a Samson Purgatorio

Age: As old as the afterlife, but physically looks like his middle 30s

Height: 5’7

Gender: Male, he/him

Orientation: Asexual Panromantic 

Occupation: The calming voice that guides your soul from purgatory to the afterlife, as well as the DJ for 12AM-6AM late night program “Midnight FM” at the local community run radio station.

FC and VC: Jim Carrey (FC is Joel Barish from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, VC is the DJ from Dawn FM)

Notable Features: Short, unkept black hair (as if he hasn’t slept in days), a black trenchcoat no matter the weather, a soothing, understanding expression by default, actually pretty expressive when he chooses to emote

Abilities: He appears as a voice to those who are walking into the afterlife, soothing them with words and music in the guise of a radio station DJ to help them process what has happened to them and walk towards the light. With the living, he can also cause music to play in their ears should he sense they are distressed or grieving, although it sounds far away and not right next to them like with souls. Finally, if given permission by a living soul-or automatically if they are a dying one, to help him do his job-he can get a sense of their deepest regrets and whatever else might be negatively affecting them at the moment. 

Personality: Wherever Sammy goes, it seems like positivity and kind words follow-although that definitely doesn’t translate to being all smiles and upbeat. Although he’s always quick to be a calming presence, offering words of assurance and advice, 9 times out of 10 you’ll never see him smile about any of it. He takes being comforting to people very seriously, almost like an extension of his real “job” in the afterlife, no matter how serious or silly their predicaments might be. Despite all of this, however, and his wardrobe of choice being a trenchcoat, he’s much more positive than he seems at first glance. He genuinely believes in the inherent good in humanity, friendly and approving to people he can tell might end up in Heaven and admonishing to those who might end up in Hell, offering advice or assistance to change their ways and do better. Although it takes a lot for him to come clean with the truth of exactly why he cares about where they might end up so much.

If you’re a close friend or another figure from the afterlife, Sammy’s barriers come down a little bit. He relaxes somewhat and may actually smile. He might even end up telling some (pretty terrible) jokes and puns if it fits the mood. 

On air as part of “Midnight FM with DJ Sammy”, he’s a soft spoken, calm and comforting voice-much like how he is with his real “job”. He tends to play anything, as long as it isn’t too “heavy”, but he does takes requests. Relating stories of good deeds/news from the community and raising awareness of any potential crime rings or scams, especially since he figures the insomniac type that listens to his show could really use both of those things.

Backstory: In the beginning, there was Earth, Heaven, and Hell. Human souls were meant to walk into the light after separating from their bodies, which would take them to where they were meant to go, but, unexpectedly, many souls were instead confused and overwhelmed by the whole experience and ended up running off in fear, ending up in Limbo or elsewhere. Not helping matters is that, depending on where one is on Earth, the walk can take up to an hour. Realizing that this was not at all ideal, God created Purgatory, the neutral, mostly safe state that a soul enters once it has died but before it has ended up in the afterlife. He also created a voice that would hopefully assist in guiding and calming them, in order to smooth over the transition.

Unfortunately, this voice was completely unsympathetic to the natural human emotions that being informed of this would instill. Unable to truly accomplish its assigned task. And so God gave the voice a human body and face, and encouraged it to walk around and observe humanity in order to better assist souls in their journey from the living to the afterlife.

This was the “birth” of Samson Purgatorio, who would later take on the much more human name of Sammy Peters. 

A shell somewhat at first, he entered the world and merely walked around and observed as asked. It wasn’t until ordered to do so by God that he even began talking to people, unable at first to view them as anything more than the dead souls they would eventually become. Once he did, however, he was astonished by how much grief and hardship, both big and small, humanity routinely had to deal with. Helping people out in any ways he could without giving himself away. When the time came to return to the afterlife and resume his duties full time, he couldn’t do it. He had become incredibly empathetic, unable to simply watch humanity suffer like the others. He actually put his foot down, demanding God give him some way to both fulfill his duty and help humanity.

To the surprise of all present, God agreed. He would remain the guiding voice of Purgatory, armed with all that he had learned and would continue to learn, but he would also stay, at least partially, human, helping those in need. With one condition: He could no longer wander freely, vanishing from country to country. He had to choose a place to stay and call home; after that, he would only be able to get around the same way humans would. He chose without much thought, and afterwards God wished him farewell, until the end times. 

He continued to bear witness to terrible tragedies, but also to the people affected by them rising back up, stronger than before. He helped out wherever and whenever he could, as he always did. But he also bore witness to something that would change his existence, both as Samuel Purgatorio, his real, divine self, and Sammy Peters, his chosen human identity, forever:

The invention of the phonograph and wax cylinder, and therefore recorded sound and music. And in the decades after, the discovery and success of the radio. The people who broadcasted through those waves were voices without a face, doing their best to entertain and perhaps, on occasion, comfort those listening-just like himself. When music and live performances from concert halls started to get mixed in during the Jazz Age, he found himself gravitated towards the sounds and its often positive effects on people. That was when he left his string of odd jobs behind to become a radio announcer, broadcasting live from music hall concerts. When these faded and the new, electric sound of rock and roll took its place, he promptly made the switch to become a DJ to match. He would report on many of rock’s greatest events and people as part of his job, but he was far more content to just sit in the studio and take requests from those who needed a pick me up.

That was when it hit him: If music could reassure and comfort mortal souls like this, who was to say that it couldn’t help those in purgatory, who more than ever continued to struggle with the change from life to death? Better yet, why not blend music and words together, just like a DJ would? Sammy implemented the change without asking for approval-but considering he hasn’t be brought before God yet, and everything is running smoothly, he doesn’t plan to stop any time soon.

[soobmint]

when the ice begins to thaw | kang taehyun [f] ice prince! au, 10.4k words

s u m m a r y : The rumors of the Ice Prince, Kang Taehyun, that run throughout the kingdom of Glacies are nothing short of terrifying. Known as a spoiled boy who does nothing but take advantage of the horrors bestowed upon the kingdom by his grandfather, the late king, Taehyun is feared and despised by nearly all of his subjects. When you decide to take matters into your own hands as the kingdom’s greatest thief by plotting to steal the crown that harnesses the prince’s unjustly earned powers, you are surprised to find out that perhaps the Ice Prince is not exactly who everyone fears him to be.

c o n t e n t s : kang taehyun x fem reader, ice prince! taehyun, thief! reader, lots and lots of fluff, very mild angst, features enhypen’s 02 line!!

t a g l i s t : @honeyju @chanluster @tyonfs @magicalstellar

n o t e : this oneshot is my contribution to the five princes collaboration! you can find the masterlist for the collab here. check out the other participants’ blogs too! [ @bffsoobin, @juunnies, @honeyju, @gyuluster ]. this was a lot of fun to write and i hope you guys enjoy it!

FOR SOMEONE WHO WAS THOUGHT TO BE THE GREATEST THIEF AROUND, YOU WEREN’T VERY QUICK ON YOUR FEET. 

It had been nearly half an hour since you had set your way across the icy bridge that led to the palace, nothing but the cloak of night to conceal you and your companions. You had studied the palace’s floor plan for months leading up to your mission, but for some reason, during all that time you hadn’t really thought of how difficult it would be to cross this god forsaken bridge. Your feet nearly came out from under you with every step you took, and it was so narrow that the four of you had to walk in a single file line.

 Speaking of your companions, the three boys that accompanied you were proving to be an obstacle to your success all on their own.

 “Jake, you have to keep up.”

 You turned to see Jay, your self-proclaimed “second-in-command,” pulling Jake along by the wrist. The former liked to brag and say that he was among the most elite group in the village, boasting a great air of bravery and courage. However, now that he was actually in the face of danger, he seemed to be the most cowardly out of them all. Sunghoon, the brains of the operation, held up the rear of the group, shaking his head in exasperation at his companions.

 You sighed, bringing the group to a halt as you turned to face them, arms crossed over your chest. “I don’t feel as though I should have to remind you, boys, but we’re not here to play,” You said, giving Jake and Jay the heat of your glare. “Jake, if you’re too scared to help out, I suggest you back out now before it’s too late. Oh, and Jay, leave the leading to me, would you?”

 While Jay mimicked your voice in the most obnoxious way possible, no doubt completely disregarding what you had just asked of him, Jake ripped his arm free of Jay’s grasp and puffed up his chest. “Me, scared? Oh please, Y/N. I’m flattered that you think about me enough to care, but you’re looking at one of Glacies’ greatest rising legends! The future generations will tell stories about me, no doubt.” He threw you a careless wink, and you had to fight back the impulse to cackle out loud at how ridiculous he looked. “And you’ll get to say you had the pleasure of knowing me. Or perhaps even the pleasure of having courted me as well?”

 From where he stood behind him, Sunghoon smacked the back of Jake’s head. That seemed to be enough to shut him up nicely.

 “Anyways,” You continued, “We’re losing moonlight. I needn’t remind you of the fact that if we don’t make it out of here with the crown tonight, we’ll likely never get to see justice restored to our kingdom. Understood?”

 “Perfectly,” Jay said, his voice strained in forced submission to your authority. You merely rolled your eyes—you were quite used to him and his attitude after spending nearly your entire life with him and the other two that accompanied you.

 “She’s right, you know.” Sunghoon spoke for the first time since the four of you had set out on your assignment. You began to move forward again, the rest of the group following close behind. “The palace security is weaker tonight because the crown prince sent an assembly of guards to accompany the prince of Regna Terrae back to his home. The odds of us finding another gap in security like this are—”

 “Incredibly slim, yes, we know,” Jake said. “You’ve only told us about twelve dozen times.”

 “Maybe if I thought you were actually listening to me, I wouldn’t feel the need to repeat myself so often.”

 “Well maybe if you weren’t such a pain in my—”

 “Shh.” You held up your hand as you came to a stop again, after having finally set foot off the slippery bridge and onto the snow-covered walkway that led to the huge gates made of solid ice. Some might have tried to simply break through the ice to earn entry to the palace, but you knew better.

 This was no regular formation of ice—it was ice forged by the crown’s magic.

 You looked around for any sign of stray guards. If your team’s predictions had been correct, the guards would have been switching their stations at this time. You had approximately four minutes and fifty-three seconds to get through the gates before the rotation was settled, so there was no time to lose.

 You glanced behind you, noticing that the boys had all replaced their teasing and playful mannerisms with serious gazes hardened by determination. With a single nod from you, everything was set into motion. Jay handed you the rope and hook from his bag, and you wasted no time in tossing it over the gate, pulling it tightly until you were certain that it had successfully latched onto the top. Jake knelt in front of you, folding his hands before extending them towards you. You placed your foot in his hands, waiting for him to give you a boost.

 “Are you sure you can do this by yourself?” He asked.

 “Yes, I’m positive,” You assured him. “You guys need to head to the far side of the wall and wait for me there. Sunghoon knows what to do if I’m in danger, but everything will be fine. Now hurry up and boost me.”

 After a moment longer of hesitation, Jake thrusted his hands up while you jumped up at the same time, reaching out to grab the rope while you planted your feet against the icy gate. You let out a tiny sigh of relief when your feet didn’t slide off or cause you to fall—the boots that Sunghoon had designed to grip the ice were proving to be just as effective as he had claimed. You pulled yourself up the rope, moving as quickly as possible without letting your feet slip.

 You soon found yourself perched at the top of the gate, your huff of relief turning into a cloud in the cold air. The view was nothing short of magnificent; fountains with frozen displays of various animals and flora, a grove of trees painted blue with ice and frost, and the castle. If you had the leisure to simply stop and observe the spiraling towers made of crystal ice, the beautiful clouds of eternal snow that remained stationary above the palace, the giant snowflake patterns that were imprinted along each outer wall, you would have stayed there just looking for ages.

 But you knew that sightseeing was not on your agenda. When you glanced over your shoulder, you were happy to see that the boys had already left for their station, leaving you on your own. It took you no time to spring into action. You jumped down from the top of the gate, the impact of hitting the ground sending an echo of pain up your legs and to your core, but you quickly shook it off and sprinted towards the outer wall of one of the towers. Your informant from within the palace had sent word that the window you were about to climb into was the best place of entry. It was in a distant hallway that was close enough to the throne room for you to have easy access to the crown, but far enough away from where the guards were stationed that the chance of them being alerted to your entry was small.

 You threw your grappling hook up again, this time latching it on the sill of the open window. Without Jake’s boost, it took you a bit longer to climb the rope, but you were no amateur when it came to breaking and entering. Soon enough, you had dropped down into the stairway that lied beyond the window, thanking your lucky stars yet again for Sunghoon and his slip-proof boots.

 Your footsteps echoed throughout the walls of ice, and you bit the inside of your cheek, taking care to make your steps as soft as possible. The past months, you had done practically nothing aside from memorize the floorplan of the palace, but you couldn’t help how nervous you were beginning to feel. This was nothing like when you snuck into the kitchen at the local tavern to snatch some food for the hungry kids, or when you broke into the overstock building for the tailors to grab a few winter coats for those who needed them.

 This was the castle, and you were there to steal the crown. Not just for your own good, but for the good of everyone else in the Kingdom of Glacies.

 When you finally reached the throne room, your heart was practically in your throat. Typically the cool headed one of your band of thieves, this feeling of pure anxiety was something new to you. With a shaky breath to calm your nerves, you peeked around the corner to take a look at what awaited you in the throne room.

 There were two thrones at the far end of the room, made of spiraling ice spires and decorated with intricately detailed snowflakes that would never melt. One was a bit taller than the other—the King’s throne, no doubt—while the other didn’t reach quite as high in the air, but that didn’t make it any less marvelous of a sight to behold. The real piece of beauty in the dimly lit room of ice, however, was the pedestal that sat just between the two thrones which held the giant, sparkling crown made of ice and snow.

 It was the King’s crown; the bane of every Glacian’s existence. And it just so happened to be what you planned to walk out of the palace with that night.

 Stationed right in front of the crown, two guards stood, frozen just like the pillars of ice throughout the room. You bit your lip, growing increasingly worried as you waited for your cue to move in towards the crown.

 “Argh! You’ll never catch me, you scum!”

 Never before had you wanted to sock Jake in the face so badly as you did in that moment. He had been instructed to create a diversion, but it sounded more like he was a pirate from the Kingdom of Nymphe. His shouts spilled in through the open window right behind the thrones, filling the otherwise silent palace with his voice. If you could have trusted that Sunghoon would have been loud enough to even be heard, you would have asked him to do it instead. He was the only one who even pretended to listen to you.

 “What’s that? You think you can chase me down? With those skinny legs? Ha!”

 There was a loud bang, and you decided in that moment that when you got back to your village, you would kick Jake out of your team and encourage him to join the theatrics group instead of pursuing this line of work. Not because he was a good or compelling actor, but because he was so outlandishly obnoxious that he would fit right in.

 The guards glanced at one another, but neither of them moved from their stations. They probably assumed—or hoped—that someone else would be taking care of the lunatic outside.

 Until they heard Jake shout, “Take that!” which was followed by a large crash, and another slew of empty threats. The guards quickly ran out one of the back entrances of the throne room, finally giving you your chance to move forward.

 You were light on your feet, not even making a sound as you dashed across the iced floor. With one leap, you skipped up the few steps that led to the crown. It was even more stunning close up, just as alluring as all the stories surrounding it had claimed. Blue jewels frosted over were embedded in the crown, which was made of solid ice, just like the palace that it sat in. The most mesmerizing part about it, however, was the flurry of never-ending snow that surrounded it, as though it were a part of its own atmosphere, separate from the rest of the world.

 Your heart stormed within your chest, and you thought it might burst right out of you. Everything you had prepared for had led to this moment, but now that it was finally here, you were beyond terrified. But you were ready.

 You stretched your hands out towards the crown, but before you could even feel its icy surface beneath your gloved hands, you felt someone’s body press flush against yours from behind, one arm holding you around your shoulders, and the other pressing the edge of an ice dagger against your throat.

 Heart in your stomach, you were silent for a few moments. Someone had caught you. It was over. It was all over. You prayed that Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon had gotten away safely, that only you would have to pay the price for trying to seek justice for your kingdom.

 You had practically written your own eulogy in your head when you heard the person speak, their breath tickling the back of your neck as they tightened the ice cold grip they had on you.

 “You know, it is wrong to take something that isn’t yours.”

 A man’s voice. You could tell right away, and his words made your blood boil. Perhaps you should have bitten your tongue, but you couldn’t keep the venomous words from leaving your mouth.

 “It’s not wrong to take back something that was yours to begin with, is it?”

 “I’m afraid I’m a bit lost. Does this crown belong to you?”

 “It doesn’t just belong to me,” You seethed, “It belongs to every single Glacian, those alive and those who have passed, and I’m here to take it back.”

 With that, you quickly snatched the knife from the man’s hand and spun around, pressing the blade against his throat this time, grabbing onto the front of his shirt to hold him in place.

 When you saw his face, you knew you were a goner for sure.

 Piercing blue eyes, a sharp jawline, blonde hair so light, it was almost white. His skin seemed to be made of ice, and his lips were set in an amused grin, one of his perfectly shaped brows arched upward.

 You were holding the edge of a dagger against the neck of Kang Taehyun, the Ice Prince himself.

 With the simple flick of his wrist, the dagger in your hand dissolved into snow, falling from your grasp in an instant.

 His eyes drew you in and he held you with his gaze; frozen, unable to move, a fistful of his white sleepshirt still held within your fist. Your imagination began to run wild as you tried to predict what would happen next. Based off of what you had heard about the prince, you expected him to turn you to ice right then and there, perhaps preserving you in his room full of iced prisoners that he was rumored to have, or maybe he would just shatter you to bits and pieces right away, like a glass smashed against a stone floor.

 You decided to take your last shot at doing what you had gone there to do.

 You quickly shook yourself from the prince’s grip, pushing him back onto the icy floor. When he no longer had a hold on you, you lunged towards the crown, hearing Taehyun shout, “Wait!” before the tips of your fingers barely touched one of the crown’s jewels. When you made contact with the crown, you felt a sharp pain in your neck, and with great force, you were thrown back onto the ice, landing right next to the prince himself.

 The pain was spreading from your neck to the rest of your body, like frost creeping up blades of grass. You pressed your hand against your neck and couldn’t hold back a gasp when you saw blood covering your palm.

 Before you knew it, Taehyun was leaning over you, gently cupping your neck in his hands. You closed your eyes, certain that he was about to strangle you for your vain attempt at destroying the crown. His fingers were like icicles against your skin; smooth, strong, and deathly cold.

 But he didn’t strangle you. He didn’t even squeeze your neck or try to block your airways at all. Instead, he lightly brushed his cold fingers over your skin. As he did so, you could feel the pain melt from your body.

 “There you go,” He said softly. He helped you back to your feet, and you opened your eyes, pressing your hand against the place where your wound had been just moments before. There was not a trace of blood left in sight.

 “What was that?” You whispered, holding Taehyun’s gaze.

 Before he could answer, you heard three familiar voices fill the chilly throne room. With eyes round as saucers, you peeked over the Prince’s shoulder to see Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay being dragged in by not one, two, or even three—but five palace guards. Where said guards had even come from, you had not a clue.

 There was, however, one thing you knew for sure: your plan had failed, and the price of failure was going to be your life.

 Or at least, you thought it would be, before the prince saved you.

 You swallowed, wishing that you could have at least seen your companions walk free. This whole mission was your idea, after all. You alone should have been held responsible for the failure. Heart racing, you grasped at endless threads of half-strung ideas that wove in and out of your mind, trying desperately to figure out some way to save the boys.

 “Please,” you said, your eyes meeting Taehyun’s, “Let them go. I drug them here; they have nothing to do with this. You can turn me to ice, kill me, do whatever it is that you desire. Just let them go, please.”

 “Y/N, don’t,” Sunghoon said firmly, but you ignored him, keeping your eyes fixated on the prince.

 Taehyun’s eyes softened, his brows knitting together, almost as if he were hurt by your pleas. He was being just as cautious as you were—perhaps even more so. “I have no intentions of harming you or your friends, my lady. In fact, the desires of my heart are quite the opposite of what you assume them to be.”

 You raised a brow. “Please, enlighten me of your true intentions then, Ice Prince.”

 “I want to help you.”

 “Oh, come on,” Jay groaned. You shot a glare that would freeze any normal man, but alas, Jay was far from normal, so he continued to speak. “Y/N, don’t listen to a word this prick says. If he wanted to help his people, he would have done so by now.”

 Although you wanted to cut out his tongue from how annoyed you were by Jay’s habit to speak up during the most inappropriate times, you knew that your friend had a point. The people of Glacies had been driven to desolation and poverty by the late king’s actions, while in your eyes, the rest of the royal family did nothing but sit idly by and watch it all happen.

 But you had just seen a side of the prince that was entirely different from every story you had ever been told about him. When your life was on the line, he didn’t kill you or laugh mercilessly as he watched the life leave your body. He had saved you.

 Taehyun turned to face your friends, and you felt your heart leap into your throat. The prince motioned for the guards to release their holds on your friends. They did as they were told, and the three boys were much too shocked by Taehyun’s instructions to do anything but stand there, frozen, keeping their eyes glued to the prince as he spoke once more.

 “I understand why you’re here,” He said, glancing over his shoulder at the crown. He locked eyes with you for a split second before he looked back at the boys. “I want the same thing you do. But I’m afraid that there’s no way for you to achieve your goal by simply taking the crown. It’s far more complicated.”

 “What do you mean you ‘want the same thing’ we do?” Jake finally spoke after regaining some sensibility—though he never had all that much to begin with, in your opinion. “Do you even truly know what we are here for?”

 “You want to destroy the crown and restore the kingdom to its former state of balance,” Taehyun said. “Am I correct?”

 “It’s not just that,” Sunghoon finally spoke up, his cool, calculating eyes drifting between you and Taehyun, as if he expected the prince to turn around and attack you at any given moment. “We want to undo all the pain and suffering your family has caused us. Do you even know how desolate your people have become while you’ve wasted away in your palace for the past two decades, Your Highness?”

 Taehyun frowned, casting his eyes down to his feet. “I’m well aware. I know it may not look like it, but I’ve been doing everything I can to help reverse the pain my family has caused our kingdom. But I realized that I can’t do it alone.”

 He turned to face you then, and you were surprised to find yourself drawn to his piercing eyes rather than being struck down by fear. His gaze was urgent, but it was gentle.

 “I need you to help me.”

 “No. Absolutely not.” You tore your eyes from Taehyun to glare at Jake, who had decided once again to speak out of turn. “Y/N, you can’t trust him! Don’t do it.”

 You knew where Jake was coming from, but you couldn’t help but feel as though Taehyun was telling the truth. And even if the prince were lying, you would probably never have the chance to get this close to the crown again. Even then, it was clearly impossible for you to touch the crown, as you had nearly died trying to do so just moments before.

 You had no choice. You were going to stay with Taehyun.

 “I just have one condition,” You said, ignoring the objections that flew from the lips of your friends. “You let them go. Now.”

 “Of course,” Taehyun said without a moment’s hesitation. “I have no intentions of keeping anyone here against their will. Yourself included. But if you truly want to destroy the crown, I need you to stay with me. Just for a few days.”

 You nodded, keeping your eyes trained on his. “Alright. But the moment I sense that you’re lying to me, Your Highness, not even the four princes of the surrounding kingdoms will be able to save you from my wrath. Understood?”

 Perhaps you were just seeing things, but you could have sworn that you saw the prince smile when he said, “Perfectly.”

 -

 WHEN YOU WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING, THERE WAS A NOTE ON YOUR BEDSIDE TABLE.

 Well, it wasn’t your bedside table, but rather the one in the bedroom Taehyun had lent to you for the duration of your stay. The night before, against all their complaints, you had sent Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon back to the village with instructions to search for you if you didn’t return in a week’s time. After they had left, you wanted to talk to Taehyun right away, but he had disappeared from your sight, leaving you with a guard who said that the Prince had gone to bed, and that you were encouraged to do so as well.

 You stretched your arms above your head, squinting in the morning sunlight that slipped through the curtains, and picked up the note from the table.

 I hope you found the room suitable for resting. When you wake, put something on from the closet in your room then come to the dining hall for breakfast, if you’d like. One of the maids will escort you there.

 —Taehyun

 You sighed, folding the note up and setting it back on the table. After another good stretch, your feet met the cold floor and you slumped over to the large closet, throwing the doors open. Your eyes were met with dresses in varying lengths and shades of blues and periwinkles, and shoes to match them all. A great sigh left you at the sight—you did not wear dresses. But the pants and shirt you had come to the palace in were caked with mud and sweat, so you had no choice but to change, and it wasn’t like you had many options.

 Begrudgingly, you searched through all the hanging gowns, finally settling on a long sleeved, ankle-length frosty blue dress made of lace that held subtle snowflake patterns throughout the skirt. It was the most practical looking one amidst all the others, but you still found yourself already growing annoyed at the lack of freedom you felt in the skirt. You put on the pair of shoes that went along with the gown and stopped by the mirror, running your hands through your tangled hair before you finally stepped out of the bedroom.

 A maid was waiting outside the door, just as Taehyun had said she would be. You followed her down the stairs of ice, hugging your arms across your chest as you shivered from the cold.

 “I know this is the Ice Prince’s palace, but does it have to be so cold?” You asked, your teeth chattering. There was no response from the maid as you went down the last flight of stairs and found yourself walking into a large dining room, with a glass table in the center of the room and a dozen chairs surrounding it. The floor was frosted over, and snowflakes fell from the ceiling, though they melted away as soon as they hit the floor. Only the seat at the head of the table was occupied—Taehyun sat there, dressed nicely in a dark blue suit, his hair parted neatly to the side. He smiled when he saw you, motioning for you to take the seat beside of him.

 You sat down slowly, taking great care to cross your legs so you didn’t accidentally expose too much of yourself. Taehyun eyed you curiously as you reached for the cup of tea that a servant had sat down for you.

 “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem to be a little bit uncomfortable,” He said, sliding a plate of fruits and breakfast pastries towards you. You accepted them gratefully, noticing just how hungry you were now that you could smell food. “Is it because of the dress?”

 You nodded, swallowing the grape you had tossed into your mouth before responding. “Dresses were not meant to be worn by thieves, Your Highness.”

 He hummed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not sure if I would classify you as a thief, my lady. I personally find the term ‘vigilante’ more suitable.”

 You paused, the piece of chocolate bread that you had pinched off frozen halfway to your mouth. You set it down, narrowing your eyes at Taehyun. “What do you know about me?”

 He smiled, taking a sip from his own teacup. “I know what I’ve heard. You are Y/N, the greatest thief throughout all of Glacies—some would even say throughout all the Five Kingdoms. You know this kingdom like the palm of your hand, and you’re extremely good at not getting caught. Unless, of course, you find yourself in my home.”

 You scowled, looking away from him as your cheeks grew warm.

 He laughed for a moment, but his tone grew quieter when he spoke again. “I also know that you almost never steal for self-gain. You take for yourself what is necessary for survival, but the rest of your plunders go to the starving and impoverished people of our kingdom. You take from those who have more than enough and give to those who having nothing at all.”

 To say you were speechless would have been an understatement. You were under the impression that the prince despised his people, just as his father and grandfather had before him. But now you were to believe that he knew of your existence, long before you had even made an attempt to steal the crown?

 You poked at the food on your plate, your appetite suddenly gone as your mind churned with questions.

 “Well, since you seem to know so much about me, allow me to inquire about yourself, Your Highness,” you said, setting your fork down and folding your hands in your lap.

 He nodded with unabashed enthusiasm, scooting forward in his seat. “Of course. Ask me anything.”

 You held up three fingers. “I have three questions. One—what happened when I tried to touch the crown last night?”

 “Ah,” he said, tapping his fingers against the table. “Well, as you’re well aware, my grandfather channeled all of the kingdom’s magic into that crown. It’s the most powerful object throughout all the kingdom.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

 He nodded, pressing his lips together. “Well, when my grandfather had the great spell cast upon the crown, it also came with a protective curse. Only those with royal blood flowing through their veins are able to touch the crown, and anyone else who attempts to do so . . . well.” He gestured to your neck, where the magic cut had sliced through your skin. “You saw what happens.”

 “And you have healing powers, apparently,” you said, running your hands against the smooth skin of your neck, double checking just to make sure that no trace of the injury was left there.

 “Not exactly. Because all of the kingdom’s magic is held within the crown, I have access to all the ice magic in the kingdom,” Taehyun explained. “Healing just happens to be one of those powers, among ice manipulation, the ability to turn things into ice, control of the snowstorms, the power to generate snowstorms, the power to plant things in frozen ground. . . you get the picture, I assume. Because of the overwhelming amount of capabilities I’ve been granted due to my grandfather’s spell, I’m not sure what my actual ability is.”

 You nodded once, slowly, trying to keep up with the influx of information. You put one of your fingers down, then said, “Question two. I know you’re the Ice Prince, but why in all the five kingdoms is it absolutely freezing in here? Can’t we start a fire or something for a bit of warmth?”

 Taehyun laughed, although you struggled to see what was so funny as a shiver went up your spine. “Another lovely perk of the crown’s magic; because my entire being is so reliant upon its powers, I’m quite weak on my own. My body temperature can’t go above a certain degree, or I’ll perish. So I’m afraid we must keep it quite cold in here for the time being.”

 “It seems like this crown is doing you more harm than good,” You muttered, slightly disappointed by his answer as you were hoping to garner a bit of extra warmth. You shook it off, putting another finger down and leaving only one remaining up in the air. “Last question. Why do you want to help us, and why am I the right person to help you?”

 “That’s two questions in one, isn’t it?”

 You rolled your eyes, and Taehyun quickly wiped the teasing smirk off his face, his expression growing grim as he prepared to answer your final question—or questions, as the prince had been so kind to point out.

 “I know it doesn’t compare to the pain that the rest of our people have gone through—yourself included—but the crown’s spell has done more harm than good for my family as well,” Taehyun said.

 “How so?” You asked.

 “As I explained before, those of us with royal blood are incredibly reliant upon the crown,” he began. “Because of this, we aren’t able to be far from it, or we become incredibly weak, and eventually, we will die.”

 Your eyes went wide at that, your mind racing. You hadn’t thought of the possibility that the crown could be harming the royal family at all, especially not in such a deadly way. “So, have you never left the palace?”

 He shook his head, looking down at his hands. “Not even once.” He sighed, bringing his eyes back up to yours. “My sister left us, a few years after my grandfather died and a few years before my father passed. She fell in love with the stable boy, and they decided to run away. At the time, we knew that we would become weak without the crown. But we didn’t know how weak we would be. Two weeks after their great escape, the stable boy returned. And my sister. . . she was dead. My father had the stable boy put to death immediately upon his return.”

 You covered your mouth with your hand, stifling the gasp that threatened to slip past your lips. The royal family was so isolated from the rest of the kingdom, that none of you had even heard of the princess’ passing.

 “So then, you’ve been alone all this time, since your father passed?” You asked, your voice quiet and careful.

 He nodded, his eyes shining with tears that never fell. “Correct. And that is why, now more than ever, I want to reconnect with the people my family has driven to desolation. I know how harmful it has been for our kingdom since we have kept all of the magic to ourselves. You haven’t been able to farm, to use the magic for yourselves, or even turn the ice into water for necessary use. By hoarding all the magic to ourselves, we have forced our people into poverty. I want to right what we have done wrong. And that is where you come in, my lady.”

 “That’s the second part of my last question,” You said, pushing your plate back so you could lean forward against the table. “Why do you need my help?”

 He smiled, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, the action so rushed you had barely registered its occurrence. “I’ve spent the past two years studying the origins of the spell on the crown. There’s supposedly a cave near the border between Glacies and Terrae where my grandfather traveled to have the spell cast, and in order to break the spell, I have to take it back there. And, according to my sources, nobody in the land knows their way around the caves quite as well as you do.”

 “I’m flattered, although I am quite curious to know who’s been saying such kind words about me behind my back,” you said, wishing you knew who Taehyun had been in communication with that would know of your occupation and skillsets. “So, what I am gathering is this; you want me to guide you to this cave and help you break the spell in order to finally have the magic distributed back into the kingdom?”

 “Precisely. Only if you are willing to do so, of course.”

 It was your turn to smile then as you stood to your feet, extending your hand towards him for a shake. “You needn’t ask me twice, Your Highness. When do we leave?”

 He stood as well, his smile mirroring your own as he took your hand in his and shook it. “We head out first thing tomorrow morning, my lady. Until then, let us prepare. Together.”

 -

 YOU AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING TO THE SOUND OF A CRACKLING FIRE.

 Beneath your face was something warm and soft, but not quite as soft as the pillow you had slept upon the night before. When your eyes fluttered open, you were surprised to see that you had fallen asleep in the drawing room, the map you and Taehyun had spent all day studying spread out on the table before you, and your head resting upon his shoulder.

 You quickly sat up, brushing your hands through your hair in an attempt to fix the wild strands. Taehyun was already awake, smiling at you as you looked away, cheeks growing warm.

 “Did you sleep well?” He asked. It was still early in the morning—so early that the sun had not even risen yet, leaving the room bathed in the predawn darkness.

 You shrugged, daring to look back at him only to see him smirking at you in the dark. “Well enough, I suppose,” you mumbled, your eyes finally landing on the source of the sound you had awoken to. In the corner of the room, Taehyun had gathered a pile of logs and started a small fire atop them, casting a soft orange glow upon the room made of ice. You gasped, turning back towards the prince. Beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead and cheeks, and you noticed that his breaths were much more labored than they had been before.

 “Taehyun, what are you thinking?” You asked, grabbing his arm firmly. “Go put that out. Now.”

 “You were shivering,” He said, refusing to let his eyes meet yours. “I didn’t want to see you suffer. It’s the least I could do after all you have been through because of us—if I can suffer in your place, I will do so gladly.”

 You sighed in exasperation, grasping his hand in your own. He looked at you then, eyes wide from the unexpected contact. “Your Highness, you have been doing everything within your power so far to right what has been wrong for so long. I refuse to let you blame yourself and cause yourself any form of pain for something that has always been out of your control. In order for us to finish this, we must do so together. Now, go put that fire out or I will be forced to find a way to do it myself. And I will have you know that my methods are not usually the safest.”

 He sighed, finally giving in as he raised his hand, a gust of icy wind blowing past your face and killing the fire on the far side of the room. You sighed in relief, giving his hand a squeeze before you let it go.

 “Thank you,” he whispered. “I do not feel as though I deserve your kindness nor your understanding, but I am grateful to be receiving it regardless.”

 “Everyone deserves kindness and understanding, Your Highness. Especially you.”

 After that, the two of you grabbed a quick breakfast from the dining hall and gathered all your supplies from the drawing room before you threw on a thick cloak, allowing Taehyun to lead you out into the snow and to the stables. He introduced you to the reindeer named Atlas that would be pulling your sled, and then led you into the stable where the sled was stored in order for the two of you to finish gathering a few last-minute supplies before you were to head out on your quest.

 While Taehyun began throwing things into the back of the sled, you became distracted by a wall strung with weaponry. A quiver of arrows caught your eye, and you reached up to pull a single arrow out, observing it closely.

 “This looks like something Jake would be interested in,” you mused, twirling the arrow between your fingertips before you set it back in its place. “He’s been trying to improve his archery.”

 Perhaps it was your imagination, but when you looked back at Taehyun, you could have sworn you saw his smile falter, at least for a moment. He shook it off though, throwing a sack of food into the back of the sled before he asked, “So, you and this Jake guy. How long have you been courting?”

 You nearly choked on the stable’s air, throwing your hand against your chest in shock. “I’m sorry, what?”

 He raised a brow, turning to face you fully. “You are courting him, aren’t you? He seemed to be concerned for you in a way that went deeper than friendship, from what I was able to observe.”

 “Oh, please. Jake flirts with anyone who even bats an eye in his direction. We are not in a relationship.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the mere thought. “The only time I ever touch that man is when I’m trying to slap some sense into him—and I mean that quite literally.”

 Taehyun laughed, almost as though he were relieved, while he began to tighten the reins that kept Atlas anchored to the sled. “Would you ever consider courting him? If he asked you to, of course.”

 “He has asked, and I’ve never considered saying anything other than no.” You picked up the pile of blankets one of the servants had left by the sled and lifted it over the edge, making sure they landed right in the middle of the bench where the two of you were to be seated. “He is not my type.”

 Taehyun leaned back against the sled, the slight smirk you had grown accustomed to seeing taking over his features once again. “Well, what exactly is your type, my lady?”

 You went still, not sure why his question made your stomach flutter like a disturbed nest of bluebirds. You had never really given this much thought before, but now that he had asked you, your mind was instantly flooded with thoughts of cold hands and warm smiles, icy eyes and flushed cheeks, strong arms and gentle words.

 You turned away from him before you spoke, trying your best to be nonchalant. “I think I’d like to find someone that I understand more than anyone else. Somebody that the rest of world may see as cold and brittle, but someone I know to be warm and soft on the inside.”

 When there was nothing but silence after your words, you dared to glance back over your shoulder at the prince. Upon doing so, you were more than a little bit happy to see that you had made him just as flustered as he had made you, with his cheeks and nose painted cherry red—and not just from the cold.

 He cleared his throat, biting his lip to keep his smile from being too obvious. “Good to know. If I ever meet someone who I think would meet those standards, I’ll be sure to send them your way.”

 “Oh, please do,” You said, glad that the tense silence was thawing. “And quickly if you don’t mind. The elders in my community remind me at every passing chance that my childbearing years will be over before I know it, since that’s apparently all that matters.”

 That earned an even bigger laugh from him, which caused to you giggle in return. When he smiled at you again, you couldn’t help but lose yourself in his eyes. But who could blame you when they sparkled like freshly fallen snow beneath the morning sunlight?

 “I’ll keep that in mind, my lady.” He hoisted himself into the sled and extended his hand out towards you, his brilliant smile never once falling from his face as he said, “Now, what do you say we go and restore this kingdom to its former glory? I believe it’s long overdue.”

 -

 THE SLEIGH RIDE THROUGH THE KINGDOM HAD BEEN FAIRLY PEACEFUL, FOR THE MOST PART. Taehyun had the reins and was guiding Atlas through the snow-capped mountains while you held the map and directed him, although you could practically navigate your way throughout the kingdom with your eyes closed, no doubt.

 The scenery was beautiful in some ways. Trees weighed down by ice coated branches, casting rainbows across the ground as the sunshine reflected through them. The deep snow covered the ground, coating the entire landscape in a blanket of endless white. You sighed, perhaps a bit too loudly as you gained Taehyun’s attention.

 “What could possibly be weighing so heavy on your mind to earn such a heavy sigh, my lady?”

 You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that took over your lips at his jest. “I’m just tired of all the ice, I suppose. It’s so suffocating. It kills all the beautiful things and leaves us with nothing in return but cold.”

 “That’s not how I see it though,” Taehyun said, holding onto the reins with one hand so he could keep the other around your shoulders, making sure you didn’t fall out of the sled as you crossed over a particularly bumpy patch of ground.

 “What do you mean?” You asked, willing your expression to remain steadfast lest you reveal how flustered you were by Taehyun’s physical contact.

 He smirked, and you cursed yourself internally, knowing that perhaps the faint flush in your cheeks had given you away after all.

 “I mean, I see the ice as more of a new beginning than an ending,” He explained. “Of course, it does freeze everything over for a while, but it thaws eventually. And when it does, everything starts all over again. The rivers start running, the flowers begin to bloom, the animals come out of their sleep. Everything begins again, until it is time to freeze once more.”

 “Well, that sounds nice in theory, my dear prince, but I am afraid there’s something you are forgetting,” You said.

 “And what is that?”

 “This is the Kingdom of Glacies. Well, the version your grandfather created, that is.” The smile fell from your lips. “The ice here never thaws.”

 “Maybe the kingdom is still waiting for its new beginning,” He said. Gently, he grabbed your chin and turned your face towards his. He smiled then, the action alone so bright and warm, you were surprised the snow didn’t melt right off the trees.

 “The kingdom may still be waiting for its new beginning,” He whispered, “But I think I have found mine.”

 You were speechless. Never in a million different lifetimes would you have even dared to imagine the Prince of Glacies saying such sweet words to you. Unsure of how to respond, you cleared your throat and looked away, afraid your face would melt right off at this rate. You heard the sound of rushing water not too far off, and you glanced over to see a small spring beneath a gentle waterfall.

 “We should stop there to let Atlas drink,” you suggested, leaning forward to pet the back of the reindeer. “It would be nice for us to stretch our legs too.”

 Taehyun obliged, leading Atlas over towards the spring. You were more than happy to jump out from the back of the sled and stretch your legs, and the view was nothing short of spectacular. As you drew closer to the border between Glacies and Terrae, there were a few patches of green grass peeking through the snow, and some bodies of water—like this spring—were unfrozen. Seeing the rushing body of water made you think of what Taehyun had said to you just moments ago, and you felt your heart flutter once again.

 You nearly flinched in shock when you felt him slip his fingers between yours, gripping your hand tightly.

 He smiled, running his thumb along the back of your hand. “Care to go for a stroll?”

 You nodded, deciding to push past your nervous feelings by taking the lead and pulling him along behind you. You were both quiet as you walked, taking careful steps over the snowy grass and onto the rocks that led up towards the waterfall. When you reached the fall, you stuck your hand beneath it. It was cold, of course, but you were mesmerized by how it sparkled, dots of the afternoon sun shining through the beads of water. The pressure of the waterfall was fairly low—no stronger than a drizzle of rain. The water first hit the slab of stone that the two of you were standing on before it cascaded down into another, smaller waterfall, which led into the spring that Atlas was drinking from.

 “Do you like it here?” Taehyun asked, watching the way your eyes glowed as you let the water fall between your fingers.

 You looked back at him, smiling brightly. “I love it. Don’t you?”

 He nodded, glancing up at the falls then back at you. “It’s beautiful.”

 He looked down at your hand in his for a moment, and then he gently tugged on it, causing to stumble a few steps closer to him. You raised a brow, clearly confused, but didn’t pull away.

 “How about here?” He asked.

 You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes. “Sure. I like it here as well.”

 He swallowed, gathering all the courage from every corner of his soul before he took a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw while he kept the other tightly intertwined with your own.

 Your eyes were wide, lips parted in shock, but you made no moves to distance yourself from him. Slowly, he brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, lowering his face towards yours so that he could feel your breath against his own mouth.

 “And here?” He whispered, his eyes meeting yours. “Do you like it here?”

 When you nodded once again in answer to his hushed question, he wasted no time in diminishing the space left between the two of you to gently press his lips against your own.

 His lips worked against yours perfectly as you allowed your eyes to fall shut, letting your hand fall from his grasp so you could hold his neck in your palms, your fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of his neck. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into him as his kiss grew deeper and you followed along, tilting your head to better match your lips with the pace of his.

 When he pulled away from you abruptly and rested his forehead against your shoulder, you knew right away that something was wrong. He was breathing deeply, his hands clutching the fabric of your dress. You cupped his cheeks in your hands and lifted his face to yours, seeing how red his cheeks, nose, and ears had gotten.

 “Taehyun? What’s wrong?”

 He let out a shaky breath, his eyes still closed, his chest still heaving. “I’m—I’m sorry. I can’t kiss you, it’s too—I’m getting too warm.”

 Your heart sank as you continued to hold his face in your hands, racking your brain for ideas. The sound of the waterfall rushing behind you filled your ears, and you glanced over your shoulder, biting your lip as an idea popped into your head.

 Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, you carefully walked backwards until you felt the ice cold water cascade over your head and down your back, stopping once you and Taehyun were both standing fully beneath the waterfall.

 His eyes were wide, and he was slowly beginning to stand up straighter, his face growing less and less warm beneath your skin as the moments passed by.

 “What are you doing?” He asked, nearly shouting to be heard above the light rush of water.

 You smiled, pushing back pieces of his hair that the water had plastered to his forehead, only for them to fall right back into place.

 “Why would you ask a question with such an obvious answer, Your Highness? I’m about to kiss you.”

 He seemed to be in shock, but before he could utter out a single word in reply, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him once more beneath the cascade of icy water, the feeling of his lips against your own giving you more than enough warmth in the core of your soul.

 -

 IT DIDN’T TAKE YOU LONG TO REACH THE CAVE WHERE THE LATE KING HAD FIRST CAST THE SPELL THAT RUINED THE LAND OF GLACIES. You had set back out on the road shortly after your somewhat extended rest stop, and by following the map closely, you arrived at the mouth of a cave with icicles hanging from the top and also sticking up from the ground. It looked much like the mouth of a great beast. It was too dangerous to try and bring Atlas inside with you, so Taehyun tied him and the sled to a nearby tree. He grabbed the bag that held the crown inside of it in one hand and then made his way to your side.

 “Are you ready?” Whether his question was directed towards you or himself, you couldn’t be sure. Regardless, you took his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze.

 “I am ready when you are, Your Highness.”

 He smiled before he took the first step into the cave, carefully sliding between two spires of ice and gently pulling you along behind him. The cave didn’t go on for very long, and there was no need for you to bring a lantern along with you, as the daylight that spilled in through the entrance was more than enough to light your way.

 When you reached the end of the shallow cave, a large pedestal made of stone was waiting for you. It was surrounded by a perfectly round back wall, with ancient texts inscribed on the walls. You weren’t able to decipher them, but you made your way towards the pedestal, your hand still locked with Taehyun’s.

 A large black scorch mark in the shape of a sharp snowflake tainted the surface of the pedestal. Atop it rested a tattered and torn piece of tan paper, also written in a language you were unable to read. You slowly picked it up and handed it to Taehyun. “Can you read this?”

 He nodded, squinting his eyes a bit before he read the words written on the page.

 “To seize the power given to all, you must first destroy the treasure within. To restore the treasure within your soul, you must then destroy your everything.”

 As soon as the words had left Taehyun’s lift, a violent, howling wind burst through the room. It blew with so much force that your hand was ripped from Taehyun’s, and you were thrown back against the stone wall of the cave. Taehyun was blown to the side opposite of you, and the crown fell from his grasp, landing near your feet. For some reason, the crown didn’t seem to be affected by the wind, as it remained stationary.

 “What’s going on?” You shouted, gripping at a spire of ice nearby to keep from being blown right out of the cave. Bits of sleet and snow were pricking at your skin, the chilling air feeling sharper than the blade of ice Taehyun had held against your neck just days before.

 “I don’t know,” He shouted back, gripping a rock that protruded from his side of the cave. “We need to decipher what was written down on that paper—that must be how we are to break the spell!”

 The words scribbled onto the page flashed through your mind.

 To seize the power given to all, you must first destroy the treasure within. This was obviously referring to the spell itself—the one cast by Taehyun’s grandfather. In order to steal the magic from the rest of his subjects, he had to sacrifice the most valuable power of all—his humanity.

 To restore the treasure within your soul, you must then destroy your everything.

 What had been everything to the late king?

 His power.

 His crown.

 “Taehyun!” You shouted, daring to hold on to the spire with one hand in order to point at the crown by your feet, which still remained unmoving amidst the magical storm. “The crown—you must destroy it!”

 He tried to stand, but was instantly knocked back on his rear, desperately grasping back onto the rock that kept him anchored. “I cannot make it over there to retrieve it!”

 You bit your lip, glancing between Taehyun and the crown only for a moment before you made up your mind. You knew what you had to do.

 “Y/N,” Taehyun warned, catching on to what you were about to do. “Y/N, don’t—!”

 It was too late. You used your boot to pull the crown towards you before you grasped it in your fist. Pain shot through every inch of your being—beginning in your neck, then spreading through your chest and your legs, to the tips of your fingers and the bottoms of your toes, piercing through you like the sharpest bite of frost. You cried out in pain, over the noise of Taehyun screaming for you to put it down, before you mustered up every last bit of strength within you to lurch the crown towards the prince.

 He caught it with one hand, his heart racing as he saw you fall limp to the ground, the wind battering and blowing your unconscious form around like a lone leaf in the winter’s wind. Tears stung at the back of his eyes, and he glared at the crown in his fist, all the anger and resentment he had felt towards his grandfather over all the years combined with the fear of losing you coming to a peak within him. He channeled every bit of these hostile and fearful emotions into the palm of his hand, where a burst of ice so strong was emitted that it covered the room in a blanket of white, the crown first cracking in his hand before it burst into a million shards, scattering all over the cave floor like pieces of glass.

 The storm died out immediately, and Taehyun felt a rush of energy enter into his body. He felt stronger, healthier, warmer. But none of that mattered to him. Not when you were nearly lifeless on the other side of the cave.

 “Y/N!” He shouted, tripping over his own feet as he sprinted towards you. He collapsed to the ground beside of you, gasping at the sight of blood dripping down your neck and seeping through your clothes.

 “No, no, no,” he whimpered, the tears finally slipping down his cheeks as his hands pressed against your wounds, but there were too many of them for him to cover.

Desperate, he let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He knew that he no longer had access to all the powers he once did now that the spell was broken. There was no way for him to know if his healing magic was his true form of magic.

 But he had to try.

 At first, when he tried to omit the soft glow of icy power from his palms, nothing happened. But then, he felt a familiar tickling sensation on the surface of his skin. He opened one eye, then the other, nearly breaking down in sobs of relief as he watched gentle trails of frost travel down your skin, closing all your wounds and erasing any traces of them that would normally be left behind.

 When the last cut had disappeared, your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled at him.

 “Well done, your highness. You’ve broken the curse.”

He grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you upright, crushing you against him in a hug.

 “Never do anything like that ever again,” He muttered against your ear, squeezing you even tighter. “I thought I lost you.”

 “You cannot get rid of me that easily, Your Highness,” you teased, pulling away just enough so you could look into his eyes. “Besides, I knew that healing magic was your true gift. I knew you would save me.”

 “And how exactly did you know that, my lady?”

 You pecked him on the nose, giggling at how red it turned afterwards. “Because you are a kind and good prince, Taehyun. And you will make a wonderful, healing king.”

 “What about you?” He asked. “We should see what ice power you have been gifted.”

 You hesitated, gently holding one of your hands out in front of you. Your brows knit together, and Taehyun laughed at the expression before he placed his hand beneath yours.

 “Feel the energy running through your veins,” He said. “Let the magic guide you.”

 Nothing happened for the first few moments. But then, one by one, snowflakes began to fall, seemingly from out of nowhere. Soon, you held a tiny snowstorm in the palm of your hand. You gasped, eyes glowing with excitement.

 “It worked,” You said, staring at what you had created in awe before you allowed it to die down.  You then cupped his cheeks in your hands, leaning closer towards him.

 “How does it feel to finally be free? What is the first thing you would like to do now?” You asked.

 He couldn’t take his eyes from your face, his thumbs tracing invisible lines across your cheeks and your jaw, occasionally slipping over your lips. “The first thing? Simple; I want to make you my queen.”

 You coughed, but remained fairly unphased by his forwardness as you responded with, “Although that is something you could have done without breaking the spell, I am quite fond of the idea. Yet, I have one even better than that—how about we instead dissolve the monarchy together?”

 He laughed at that, brushing his hands through your hair before cradling your jaw once more. “One step at a time, princess. We can talk about that later. But what about you? What are you most excited about now that the kingdom has been restored?”

 You smiled then, not having to take long at all to think of your answer. “As wonderful as having newfound magical abilities may be, my prince, the most wonderful thing about breaking this spell is that I am now able to kiss you wherever I please—without having to stand beneath a freezing waterfall.”

 This time, when you leaned forward to capture his lips with yours, Taehyun gladly welcomed the warmth that rushed to his cheeks. And as he kissed you, he was sure that all the warmth that spread throughout him was enough to heat the entire kingdom, so much so that he dared to imagine that the eternal ice of the Kingdom of Glacies would finally begin to thaw.

[rogerslovesstark]

Loveless

Requested by: @belovedcherry 

Can I request a fic where Steve and Reader are in an arranged marriage but he doesn’t want to be and cheats on her and eventually leaves her with no regrets? The reader is left pregnant (he doesn’t know - she wanted to tell him but he was being a dick) and eventually moves on and finds someone else who is cool and loving with her and the child. Steve ends up finding her again and being jealous, possessive, regretful, and angry because he thinks that family should have been his since they were arranged together in the first place unlike her choosing to engage/marry the new guy. I’m not sure about the ending but I think that I prefer the reader to have a happy ending and Steve left in eternal regret. Maybe her being pregnant with a second child with the new guy? Happy growing family?

You knew you weren’t stupid, Steve had found another bed to keep himself warm. Some other woman’s pussy to keep his dick wet. You just wished that he would admit it to you, so you would be able to leave. 

Crying yourself to sleep every night because the idea of the man that you love with another woman was just too much to handle. The suffocating pain and idea of him with another woman would choke you and steal all the air from your lungs as you slept in your separate bedroom.

You were truly in love with him and he couldn’t care any less about you, the mere thought of you made Steve want to throw up in disgust. All he wanted to do was party, drink, do drugs, sleep with other women. Some would say that Steve even had a problem, but you tried as hard as you could to help him.

Your families were the only thing keeping you together, the contract that you were both forced to sign that bound you two together. You had fallen in love with Steve the moment you saw him. Your father showed you a picture of him and you swore your eyes were in the shape of hearts.

His soft blonde hair, his blue eyes that could captivate you for hours on end. You couldn’t believe that he would actually be yours. Except it was way too good to be true. 

Steve was a fucking dick. When he found out he had to marry you for his inheritance to even be processed, he basically threw a fit. 

“Why can’t Bucky marry her dad, he is older than I am, what the fuck,”

“Steven, James is engaged to Dot, stop being a brat, you know that your inheritance comes once you marry, and she’s a nice girl, don’t be an ass.”

Steve was fuming at the news of this arranged marriage, he had seen pictures of you before and he was repulsed by the sight of you. Any time you had to see each other, Steve couldn’t wait till it was over to go sleep with another woman.

There wasn’t a wedding, just documents being signed in the city hall. You had worn a long white dress that complimented your skin tone, light makeup, and a casual hair-do. Both of your parents were in attendance, including Bucky, Steve’s older brother. 

You were also both forced to consummate the marriage as soon as you both went on your honeymoon. Your mother-in-law stood in the next room listening to Steve grunt lowly and you embarrassingly squeaking and moaning. He didn’t even care to make you finish. Asshole.

You both were required to have sex with each other unprotected at least once a week, normally when his mother would come over and basically force you to do the dirty. You honestly had no problem with having sex with Steve. He looked like a Greek god and he was packing downstairs. 

Steve knew that if you were to get pregnant, his mother would just leave him alone but he just couldn’t be bothered to actually finish inside of you. The thought of you actually pregnant with his child was horrifying to even think about.

Steve’s father wanted to ensure that the empire had an heir, knowing that Steve wasn’t going to settle down unless forced to do so. 

He slowly started to become distant from you, leaving for work early, coming home late, you knew he wasn’t staying loyal and it broke your heart. You would go to sleep crying every night because of the infidelity your husband was committing, and that you were completely and hopelessly in love with him and he would never love you the way you loved him.

Watching the two lines form on the pregnancy test had your heart swelling with so much joy, your smile so big. Steve was on his way home and you could finally tell him the amazing news that you would be starting a family together.

When he dropped the divorce papers in front of you, you could physically feel your heart shatter. The idea of the perfect family faded from your head as you began to become protective of your baby.

“You have an hour to get your shit and leave, get a fucking lawyer too because this is most likely going to court,” Steve spit at you from across the counter. 

He had no remorse, you were too quiet, you never wanted to go out and party, you didn’t work because you were finishing your masters in Physics. Constantly studying and having assignments to do, your fucking humming as you cooked annoyed the hell out of him.

“But Steve, I’m-“ Your words were cut off as Steve backhanded you. You remained still, not know what to do, just holding your cheek in hand, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Y/n, shut the fuck up and get the fuck out, Selene will be here in less than 20 minutes to move in and I don’t want to fucking see your hideous face around here anymore,” Steve shouted at you, stunning you into such a thick silence you felt like you could even breathe.

You barely made it to your bedroom, heavily breathing, on the verge of a panic attack gathering all your things, making sure to leave the divorce papers signed on top of your bed. 

Looking back at Steve with tears in your eyes, you wished he would crawl back to you and apologize for saying anything hurtful and treating you like you didn’t matter to him. If he had, you would have forgiven him completely and overlooked every time he had wronged you, just wanting a small family to be perfect.

Steve smiled as your car drove off the property, the burden of you seem to finally lift from his chest, not knowing that he was throwing the best thing to ever happen to him away.

++++

You drove away sobbing in your car, you had no money and were in debt because of your master's program. You couldn’t go back to your family's house, being basically shunned by your family if they were to find out that Steve has left you.

You made it to Natasha’s apartment in one piece thankfully, only having packed limited amounts of clothes that your bag could carry. 

You knocked on her door and jumped into her arms as soon as she opened the door. Natasha stood in the door frame shocked that you were here so late, especially when it was this cold. 

“Y/n, get inside, you're going to freeze your legs off,” Natasha scolded you, ushering you quickly inside. Natasha was worried, you hadn’t called or texted her prior to coming to her apartment and she had guests over too. You didn’t look too well, eyes swollen and red, your face was puffy and you made tear streaks on your cheeks.

“Tash, I’m sorry but I need a place to stay, St-t-eve kicked me out,” You could barely make it through the sentence, still suffering from the heartbreak of your former husband. 

“Okay, I have the spare bedroom, but I have guests n/n, so hurry threw the hallway and get in the shower babe,” Natasha whispered, not wanting to embarrass you in front of her colleagues.

The spare bedroom was barely the size of a closet, but you were grateful that Natasha was generous enough to let you use it until you found an apartment. You managed to hold it together though you were hurting so deeply, just wondering what Steve was doing.

+++

Steve and Selene were laying in his bed, breathing heavily after their third round of sex, and Steve was drained. Selene reached over into her bag a pulled out a bag of white powder that she knew Steve loved. Of course, Steve didn’t decline the offer of free drugs to keep the night young and fun.

The rush that went right to his head, a floating feeling, and energy flowing through his veins. Something was off though, but Steve was too high to even identify the feeling.

+++

You walking into Natasha’s living room, seeing a few people in there, two men and another girl, you greeted all of them and stayed next to Natasha. You didn’t really talk, smiling along as Natasha’s other friend cracked jokes, you weren’t even paying attention to what they were saying, you still didn’t know what to do with your life now.

Being pregnant with his child after he told you that he didn’t want you, that he never loved you, and the only reason he married you was to get his inheritance. You felt sick to your stomach knowing you were carrying his child, but you knew that you wouldn’t get rid of it. 

You’ve wanted to be a mother since you were a young girl, seeing all those other women holding their little babies, being so loving and caring towards them.

You stood up quietly and walked towards Natasha’s kitchen, needing a glass of water, only to find one of Natasha’s friends in there already.

“Oh, sorry, I just wanted to grab a glass of water,” You murmured, not looking him directly in the eyes. He just stared at you and moved out of the way, his stature not as tall as Steve’s, he was basically the complete opposite. 

“I’m Bruce, we have thermal physics together, with professor Wither,” He said softly, his eyes kind and sweet. You noticed him before, he was older than the rest of the class, a genius too. He sat at the front of the class, always being the first to answer a question.

You never paid attention to him, only whenever he would answer a question at lightning speed. He had sweet brown eyes, a little aged but not older than 40. His hair started to salt and pepper, curling towards his face.

“I know Bruce, you really are a genius,” You smiled at him, he just stared at you, your eyes still red from crying, cheeks were swollen from the heavy crying. Bruce wondered what happens, but he didn’t want to intrude into your life. Yet still, he asked.

“Y/n are you alright?” Bruce was worried for you because you always looked so put together during class. Bruce always took note of how you looked in class, not to say he was in love with you, but he was close. Basically, his infatuation with you was so deep, if he had gotten to speak to you for even two hours, he would have fallen in love with you.

++++

Steve woke from his drunken and drug-ridden haze. Everything was blurry and he couldn’t really feel his left arm. The room smelt so strange, he couldn’t even see clearly. He didn’t know what time of day it was. 

Steve got up and walked towards the bedroom door, and towards the kitchen, he couldn’t hear your soft humming and he wanted to know if you were home. He stepped into the kitchen and he didn’t see you anywhere, where were you?

He went to the entryway and looked for your keys, only to not find them there, he opened the front door to see if your car was there. A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, remembering your face as you cried leaving in your car, Steve only felt pain now.

Tears filled his eyes slightly when he remember the hateful words he had spoken to you. You were always so sweet to him and all he did was drive you away. He walked back to his bedroom and looked for his phone. The screen showed that it was February, and Steve forced the divorce two March’s ago. Since then he and Selene had broken up.

Steve spent most of his time looking at old photos of you, where you were smiling, looking happy. You had truly loved Steve, always trying to keep him happy, cooking and cleaning for him, trying to be his rock of emotional support. 

Steve stared at a specific photograph of you, you had your bouquet of red roses from your wedding day and you were smiling so brightly at the camera. Every time Steve looked at the photo, he started to cry. The last memory of you Steve had was your crying face after he had hit you. 

Steve never felt so much pain after Selene left him because he wanted to sober up and she wanted to still party and do drugs. The night after she left, Steve had done psychedelics and the crash after was so horrible, he had gone to your old bedroom and cried while holding your pillow. 

The divorce went by quickly, you hadn’t lawyered up and didn’t take anything from Steve, you didn’t want anything to do with him. Steve had hoped you would come to the first and last meeting, just to see your face. Once he realized the depth of his mistakes, he began doing drugs and drinking recklessly, he hadn’t slept with anyone since Selene left. 

++++

You hugged Bruce after you told him the news, you were expecting again. You had been trying for about three months and you had finally succeeded. After you had spoken to Bruce for the first time in Natasha’s apartment you two hit it off so quickly, getting engaged after seven months together. 

Bruce treated you like a queen. You were the apple of his eye and both of you graduated last June, starting a small research facility that began to gain traction. You had given birth to a healthy 7 lbs 8 oz baby boy named Adam Joseph Banner. You hadn’t tried to let Steve know about anything regarding the pregnancy. You were just glad you weren’t in his life anymore.

++++

You were at the supermarket looking for pasta sauces for tonight's dinner, Adam was running around and you just smiled as he made silly faces at you.

Steve watched as you looked for the sauces. He could barely breathe as he looked at you, you looked so different and happy. Steve didn’t want to come up to you, but he wanted to know whose child that was.

Steve followed you home as you left the store.

++++

Steve watched as you hugged and kissed the foreign man, he was filled with rage. You looked so happy to see him and he just held you and smiled at you. 

The little boy hugged the man and started kissing his scruffy face. The little boy looked nothing like the man. If anything, the little boy kind of resembled Steve. Steve waited till you went inside to leave his car and walked towards your front door.

Steve knocked on your door, only to realize that he hadn’t brought you flowers, then again he hadn’t expected to come to see you today. 

You answered the door and all the air knocked out of Steve’s lungs. You looked so beautiful up close, Steve wanted nothing more than to grab you and kiss you right there. 

You looked at Steve in shock, what the fuck was he doing here. He looked like a mess, hair unkempt, eyes with dark bags underneath, his bread was slightly long and not taken care of. How the fuck did he find you?

“Steve?” You said his name, and Steve broke down, falling onto his knees, sobbing. He had missed you so much and hearing your voice after two years, it sounded like music to his ears. 

“Hi y/n,” Steve said softly, you stared at him in shock he was on his knees, looking up at you with what seemed to be like adoration. You didn’t know what to say. Literally lose of words.

“Mommy?” Adam screamed from inside the house, running towards you, jumping into your arms. He cuddled his head into your neck. You ran a hand up and down his back. Steve slowly stood up and looked act the scene in front of him.

“Is he mine, n/n?” Steve asked softly, deep down inside he was hoping that the baby was his, because if he was Steve’s child then there might be a chance that you two would be able to be together. 

“He is, and I tried to tell you that I was pregnant with your baby, but you hit me and sent me off with no money, and divorce papers needed to be signed. Why did you come here, Steve?” 

Steve didn’t know what to say, how could be explained to you that he wanted you back after everything he had done to you, the last thing you deserved was to live a life like how you used too. 

“I want you back, n/n, this was supposed to be my family, not his” Steve said softly, walking closer to you and cupping your face with his large hands, you stared at Steve, not knowing what to say. Steve leaned closer and closer to your lips, wanting to just kiss you.

“Get away from my mommy,” Adam started to yell at Steve, swinging his arms at him, trying to hit him. You quickly backed up and put Adam inside, closing the door behind you. You looked at Steve with shock in your eyes.

“Steve, I’m married now, and I’m pregnant with Bruce’s baby, you can be apart of Adams's life but I have to talk to Bruce about it,” You stated, not leaving any room for argument.

“Talk to Bruce about it? He’s my kid Y/n, I have a right to be in his life, I’m his dad,” Steve shouted at you.

“No you’re his biological father Steve, Bruce is his dad, he was there in the delivery room with me, not you, he was there when I would cry myself to sleep at night because of how sad I was about the divorce, not you, he is there when Adam cries, not you, you haven’t been apart of Adam’s life at all, so don’t you dare try to say you're his dad, because you aren’t, now stay the hell away from my family,” You screamed and slammed your door shut in his face.

He blew it, his only chance to get it back, Steve slowly walked to his car, once the door was closed Steve started to sob. It was supposed to be his family, you were supposed to be his wife and that was supposed to be his family. If only he was so filled with self-hatred, he would have had the perfect family.

[maddie-grove]

Little Book Review: Sin Eater

Author: Megan Campisi.

Publication Date: 2020.

Genre: Alternate historical fiction (?).

Premise: Strap in, y'all, because this is complicated. May Owens, an orphaned teen laundress in Fake Elizabethan London, is arrested for stealing a loaf of bread. Expecting to be hanged, she's instead sentenced to be a Sin Eater for life. This means hearing confessions from the dying and then eating foods that symbolize their sins off their coffins. There are various other unpleasant requirements--speaking to no one except when hearing confessions, being forced to wear a non-removable collar, getting one's tongue tattooed, social ostracism, eternal damnation if one doesn't do everything right--but it does come with free room and board. Then the Sin Eater who's supposed to be mentoring May gets tortured to death. Why? A deer heart (symbolizing the murder of royalty) appeared on the coffin of a deceased lady-in-waiting, and the mentor wouldn't eat it because the lady-in-waiting had confessed to no such thing. Can May figure out what the hell is going on, adjust to her weird new life, and address a bunch of lingering childhood trauma?

Thoughts: Sin-eating, as depicted in this novel, never existed in Britain. Campisi was inspired to write this novel by a real-world tradition that started in and near Wales as early as the seventeenth century, but died out completely by the 1920s. Accounts vary as to how socially stigmatizing it was to be a sin eater; at best, they were poor, disreputable people doing a low-status job, and, at worst, they were feared and despised as people who had traded away their immortal souls and possibly consorted with demons. However, it was definitely not an island-wide, state-sanctioned role that people were officially sentenced to; it didn't require body modification, nor was it solely assigned to women.

In short, Campisi has created a fictional tradition that technically could have existed in Elizabethan London (as it doesn't involve magic or technology that didn't exist at the time), but demonstrably did not. This puts her in an interesting position that most historical fiction and fantasy writers don't find themselves in, because she has the following options:

Write a straightforward historical novel that just happens to have this one weird, fictional thing going on, with no further explanation. This would probably be the easiest option, but she either has to put an awkward author's note at the beginning or run the risk of readers thinking she knows jack shit about Elizabethan London.

Write an alternate history novel in which she explains how her version of sin-eating came to be in Elizabethan London. (Off the top of my head: Welsh people brought the tradition to London and other parts of England after migrating, but it only caught on in a big way as a response to the Black Death, during which time it developed distinctly English characteristics. The pious Henry VI was the first monarch to officially recognize it; however, the crueler official requirements didn't come about until the reign of Henry VIII, for reasons similar to the passing of the Tudor Poor Laws. Edward VI tried to ban it, but Mary I brought it back with a vengeance. Now it's allowed, but only because Elizabeth I branded it as an Anglican thing.) I think this makes for an interesting setting, but it is a lot of work for a story that's really just about one regular girl and some Tudor drama.

Write a story that takes place in a world that's similar in some ways to Elizabethan England (geography, level of technology, etc.), yet is substantially different. Maybe there's a young reigning queen, but she's not the often-disfavored daughter of a king with six wives; instead, maybe she had seven brothers who all died untimely deaths. Maybe the country's been torn apart by decades of religious conflict, but sin-eating is at the heart of the conflict instead of Fake Catholicism vs. Fake Protestantism. This might actually be the most organic way to handle things, but it does put the book in a weird place, genre-wise; people who want to read straight-up historical fiction won't be into it, and people who want to read fantasy might be put off by the lack of magic.

Any of these are better options than what Campisi chose, which is an unholy union between #1 and #3. Sin Eater is set in a world that's almost identical to Elizabethan London, except that (a) Campisi's version of sin-eating exists and (b) everybody has slightly different names. Instead of Queen Elizabeth, we have Queen Bethany, the daughter of King Harold II and his second wife Alys Bollings. She had an older sister named Maris, daughter of Harold II's first wife Constanza of Castile, who was a Eucharist. Harold II's third wife was named Jennette Cheney, whom you might think had a son named Edwin or whatever, but no, she had no children. What. You might also think that Jennette had a brother named Titus Cheney, who married Harold II's sixth wife and widow Katryna Park or whatever, but also no. He was named Titus Seymaur (no relation?) and he was married to Katryna...Parr. Confused yet? Because God is always called the Maker, and clergy are always Maker-men who preach sermons in Maker-halls, but Judas is still Judas and Eve is still Eve. Also, Roma people are called "eg*psies" (honestly, if you're going to make up a stupid word, at least use the opportunity to make it not a slur); it's something of a relief that the Jewish characters are just Jews. Oh, and the whole thing takes place in Angland.

This is some of the most irritating, distracting world-building I've ever encountered. It doesn't help that the only reason for the fake Tudor drama is a rather tired, mean-spirited mystery involving Queen Elizabeth/Bethany's secret baby and Katryna/Katherine Parr's long-lost daughter. And it's a shame, because when the story focuses on May--a lonely, angry, scared girl struggling to do the right thing and make a place for herself in the world--it's emotionally compelling. Her mixed feelings towards the fellow outcasts who start squatting in her home are particularly well-done, as are her encounters with religious outsiders. The mechanics of sin-eating are also fascinating; I liked seeing May visit dying people of various ages and stations in life. I think a person without my exact pet peeves would enjoy this novel a lot more, but it still wouldn't be great.

Hot Goodreads Take: There are many criticisms of this novel that I agree with, such as bad world-building, a weak mystery, a sophomoric understanding of religion, and gratuitous unpleasantness. (I love the dark, I love slippery things, but there was no reason for the tongue tattoo except to drive home that this whole thing sucks for May. I did not need to be further convinced!) There are also criticisms that I get, even if I don't feel the same way; for instance, I like the weird, bitter heroine, but I understand that she's not for everyone. On the other hand, one reviewer states, "I also didn’t care or need to know about the author’s childcare arrangements that she acknowledges at the end of her book." Like...cool, reviewer, but I don't think you understand the point of acknowledgments. They're to thank people. Are you going to complain that you "don't care that the book was manufactured in America, as the copyright page says"?

[queeraroace]

So I've been re-watching the vampire diaries (don't ask) and I'm on season 2, where Damon forces Elena to drink his blood in case she dies and she's really fucking upset.

I think that's a good writing choice, not just in line with her character but a really nice way to reverse expectation of the typical protagonist in vampire books who craves immortality and eternity with their lover. Elena cares about family, having a family - hell, Stefan cares about it too. He says so, that he came to Mystic falls to make a family.

Elena was happy with her parents, as happy as any teenager going through a rebellious phase can be, she loves her brother, Jenna, and wants to have that even when her guardians are gone. Her and Stefan even talk abstractly about their future when they're at the Gilbert family cabin.

Then, when Stefan brings her for a hike to talk about her possible death and subsequent immortality and they have a really important conversation where Elena confesses to never wanting to become a vampire. That she wants to grow up, have kids, accomplish things with her life and grow old. And really considering that as a possibility, with Stefan in it, is really cool and not explored in fiction at all.

But think about that; let's say Elena and Stefan stay together while Elena's human. It doesn't have to be all that depressing because human life can be long. Elena graduates, goes to university, gets her first apartment, goes to campus bars, makes new friends, changes majors, picks a career, picks another career (probably something helping people like a social worker, a preschool teacher, etc) and she decides it's time to have kids.

Stefan's there the whole time, correcting her history assignments with his annoying affinity for dates, tries to pay for her apartment, then, when she stubbornly insists she'll pay for it herself and gets her first job waitressing, compels the landlord to be okay with it when the rent cheque is a little late. He gets her flowers on her first day at the new job, arranges surprise parties on her birthday when she's too worn down to remember the day, invites Bonnie and Caroline and Jeremy and even Damon - and then it's time for a baby.

There are actually so many options here. Maybe Bonnie wants to be the surrogate. Maybe Elena wants to find a donor for artificial insemination to carry the baby herself. Maybe they bring a human third into their relationship cause why not, vampirism is already so damn weird. Maybe they adopt a baby! Maybe they even take in some distantly related family members like Elena and Jeremy were taken in. Either way it'd be fuckin cute. (If they have girls they're naming them Jenna and Lexi)

You're telling me Stefan wouldn't be the greatest dad? He's already the dad friend! Baby crying in the middle of the night? Stefan's there, before Elena can even wake up. Kids dealing with insomnia? He'll read them Tolkien and Beatrix Potter and many crusty old story books until his warm voice lulls them to sleep.

And the crew would be so great with kids. Caroline would spoil them on shopping trips, Bonnie would be teaching them all about nature, be such a kind, emotionally intelligent aunt, Jeremy would give them their first punk albums and sneak them to concerts when they get older, and Damon would be a bad influence. He'd take them on rides on his motorcycle, whisper all the family secrets to them, and ultimately be fiercely protective and a great uncle.

Beyond that, they'd probably have to move every so often, people side eyeing Stefan for never aging and an increasingly older Elena having a young boyfriend. God, people would call Elena a cougar and they'd laugh and joke that Stefan was a much "older soul" than people realize.

But like. Stefan would find her so sexy! As she grew older she'd grow more confident, sure of herself, take even less shit than she already does. She'd gain weight, get stretch marks, have her first grey hairs. She'd get smile lines, crows feet, a few aches and pains, maybe a c section scar. Stefan would love her every step of the way, reminding her exactly how every mark on her body, every sign of a life well lived made her that much hotter, that much more beautiful.

Elena getting to age, being her compassionate self, would probably have so many causes she'd become passionate about. Environmentalism, social justice, housing their homeless s neighbors! A bunch of stuff she'd learn about herself, the world, and impart those values on their kids, share those realizations with Stefan, and he'd love her more every day.

I know it may seem ~cringe~ but the idea of a vampire dating an older, or old, woman seems much more right to me than a teen girl who only looks his age. So like, get it Elena. Marry a vampire and be an old ass grandma with a hot boyfriend! Fuck it!

[haberdashing]

open your eyes (i see your eyes are open) (4/?)

Jon, faced with being the last one left in a dying world, sends his memories back in time to someone who might be able to fix things before the worst can happen.

Sasha James, for her part, is very confused.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

on AO3

The visit to Artefact Storage was nice, but just like when she’d been reassigned, Sasha was only too happy to get out of there and head to the Archives, though she knew well enough now that the latter was plenty dangerous in its own right. At least she knew what to expect from the Archives. At least the Archives weren’t literally paying her to test out horrible, unpredictable things...

...no, that was Jon’s job now, wasn’t it? Elias had chosen him, the Web had chosen him, and now he was the Archivist, and he was going to be put through things much worse than anything Artefact Storage had to offer...

Sasha had started this train of thought in the hopes of reassuring herself, but instead, as she entered the Archives, she just felt a little queasy as she thought of what lay in store in Jon’s future.

Or what would lay in store in Jon’s future, anyway. Things wouldn’t be so bad this time around, not if Sasha had a say in it.

Jon was already in the Archives, perched over Tim’s desk as the two spoke about something, and Sasha was struck by the sight of him. He looked so different than he had in his final days before, and not just because his skin was free of scars--his hair was short and much less gray than before, he was still wearing a suit of all things rather than the hodgepodge of outfits he’d rummaged through as his professional mask slipped and his options grew slimmer...

...and, as Jon turned her way, Sasha could see his eyes focus on her, and though his gaze was still dark and meaningful, there wasn’t the same weight to it, the same sense of the universe itself staring back out of those deep eyes.

(She still felt like she was being watched, but that was only to be expected now, wasn’t it?)

“Good to see you, Sasha.” Jon shot her a quick nod. “I was just briefing Tim on his next project--you’re still working on the Hodgson file, correct?”

God, that felt like ages ago, though Jon had only given Sasha that assignment last Thursday. The Hodgson file wasn’t even one of the real ones, just somebody who’d gotten drunk and mistook what was probably a plane for an alien vessel, though Sasha was struggling to recall all the details at the moment. “Right, yeah, I was, er, having trouble looking up the relevant flight patterns, I believe it was? But I’ll keep trying, of course, so-”

Jon looked over Sasha again, and his gaze softened slightly. “Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine, I... it’s just, um...” ...hell, she was struggling to come up with an excuse, so why even bother? She wanted to tell Jon about what she’d learned eventually, and perhaps now was as good a time as any. “Actually, could we talk in your office? When you’re done with Tim, I mean, I don’t mean to rush you.”

“I think we’re done here already.” There was a flat tone to Tim’s voice that set Sasha on edge--had he and Jon been arguing, perhaps?

“Oh, yes, we’ve covered pretty much everything I wanted to discuss at this point, so.” Jon rapped twice on Tim’s desk with a slender fist, a gesture Sasha had never seen him use before his promotion but had already encountered several times since. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Sounds like a plan, boss.” Tim’s voice had a bit more energy to it now, and as she walked with Jon to his office, Sasha saw him shoot her a wry grin.

Sasha closed the door behind her and took a seat as Jon got settled.

“What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Well...”

That feeling of being watched that permeated the Institute was making the hairs on the back of Sasha’s neck stand up, and she knew it wasn’t just because Jon was looking at her with an expression somewhere between curious and impatient.

What were the odds that Elias- that Jonah Magnus was watching them right now? Probably not great, really, he did have an actual job besides just spying on his employees, but he certainly could be watching. Was thinking about it that much more likely to make it happen, drawing his attention to her thoughts? God, it was hard to know, wasn’t it? And that was the problem, being caught up with knowing and not knowing...

“Now that you’re the head archivist here, it’s your job to hear when the general public’s encountered something supernatural, right?”

“If it’s in a statement given to us, yes, but those are usually made by liars and the mentally unwell.”

Sasha did her best to drum up a smile. “Good thing this isn’t a statement, then, right?”

It could be a formal statement, probably, but Sasha didn’t want that, not when anybody with access to their archives could read it afterwards, not when there was information she now knew that could prevent the literal end of the world if the right people acted upon it.

A soft sigh, more perfunctory than anything. Jon was trying to play the grump again, but Sasha was pretty sure she could see through it even without everything she now knew about Jon masking his true feelings. “Where are you going with this, Sasha?”

“This weekend, my mind just- just filled with a ton of information suddenly. Info about you, about the other assistants, about the supernatural, about a little bit of everything really. Things I should have no way of knowing, but now I do. I figured you ought to know--could come in handy down the line.”

“Do you have any proof of this?” Jon tilted his head to one side slightly. “Something you shouldn’t know about me, perhaps--and not just from hacking, either?”

Sasha thought about arguing the point about hacking with Jon, but honestly, it was fair enough that she be called on it. Instead, she just nodded and took a deep breath--not that she really needed the extra air for what she was going to say, but because it felt right, and who was she to deny the moment that extra bit of dramatic flair?

“Mister Spider wants more.”

Jon’s face went pale in an instant, his gaze unfocusing as he seemed to look more through Sasha than at her.

“Jon?”

Jon didn’t respond.

“Jon, it’s okay!” Sasha rapped gently on his desk. “It’s just me. It’s not... it’s not that.”

Jon blinked rapidly a few times before shaking his head.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Jon was clearly not fine, as his hands were shaking slightly and his face still didn’t have its full color back, but Sasha wasn’t going to argue the point. “But I- I’ve never told anybody about that, how did you-”

“I told you. Weird supernatural information shoved into my head over the weekend. Simple as that.”

“Right. You- you weren’t making that up, then.”

It wasn’t really a question, but Sasha answered just the same. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Jon looked unconvinced, and Sasha suddenly remembered how when “Antonio Blake”’s statement had appeared, Jon had thought only Tim could be trusted to investigate it, only Tim could be ruled out for having written it as a practical joke on his new boss--that felt like an eternity ago, and yet it hadn’t even happened yet...

“You said you didn’t want to give a formal statement, correct? Was there any other action you expected from me regarding this?”

Sasha shrugged. She still wasn’t sure how much she could share, especially here, in the belly of the beast. Maybe in the tunnels, some time... assuming there still were tunnels, and they weren’t being plagued by worms or Not-Thems or murderous Jurgen Leitners...

“I just wanted you to know about it, mostly. I know a lot about these old archives now, so if you’ve ever got a question, I’m glad to do what I can. Not that I wouldn’t be willing to help anyway, but, you know, if I already know the location and validity of statement number 0051701, or whatever, might as well use it, right?”

Jon squinted a little. “What is statement number 0051701?”

“Oh, it’s...” Sasha let out a soft giggle. “We haven’t gone over it yet, but it’s about an old calliope organ.”

“Kuh-LY-o-pee.” Jon corrected.

“Ka-lee-O-pee.” Sasha repeated, a grin growing on her face. “Though there’s really no one correct pronunciation, or so I’ve heard.”

“...right. Well, thank you for letting me know about all this, I suppose.”

“Of course. You are the boss around here, right?”

“As Tim keeps reminding me, yes.”

Sasha stood back up and cracked open Jon’s office door, but before she left entirely, she added, “Seriously, reach out if you need me- or any of us, really. It’s not healthy to spend too long cooped up in here by yourself.”

“Duly noted.”

As the door closed behind Sasha, she could only hope that she was doing enough, that her offers to help would be taken advantage of when Jon needed it most.

[my-name-is-apollo]

Hmm Apollo really does have a duality to him. How would you describe Apollo's personality then?

Bold of you guys to assume that I can actually put into words the personality of an ambiguous and enigmatic ancient god. However, I will share with you what my small mortal brain has comprehended based on his existing myths.

Apollo is a very difficult god to understand. All gods are, but especially Apollo. For example, he is described as a god who is distant, but often he is seen spending time with his lovers & more often with his children, educating many of them himself. He is regarded as one of the wisest gods, yet he is an eternal ephebe & represents the age where people make a lot of dumb decisions. He is Zeus' favorite son & he serves his father loyally, carrying out even the rather questionable tasks assigned to him. But, he also doesn't hesitate to rebel against Zeus if he feels like he's being wronged. He is a generous god who can be really kind to you, but he can and has shown great cruelty as well. All this makes it difficult to predict what goes on in his mind. (Especially if you are a writer. I think @odiko-ptino can agree that Apollo is so difficult to write).

However, once you've read fair amount of his myths, you notice that

1) he is fiercely protective of his family. His mom, his twin & his children (& his two bros). You mess with them, you're gone. Many myths where Apollo is wrathful is because someone messed with his family.

2) he doesn't tolerate hubris. At all. The times he shows his cruel side is when the mortal is being hubristic. His punishments are extreme. However, he's also the only god I've seen who has shown regrets about his haste decisions, & even tried to compensate for it in some way.

3) he can be a gentle & caring lover. You can find him being flustered around his lovers, like a teenage boy falling in love for the first time.

4) he can be the personification of wearing your heart on your sleeve. He mourns for his dead lovers & children like he is a human being, & cherishes them.

5) he is proud. I've not seen him being narcissistic or boasty, but he is majestic. His presence commands respect & strikes fear even among the other gods, but only until he puts down his bow & picks up his lyre to play music.

Apart from those, I think in general Apollo is responsible, clever, more sensible and wise, somewhat bossy. Is he serious like Athena? or more laid back like Hermes and Dionysus? I think it would depend on the person he is interacting with (although his moods can shift in matter of just seconds). To the mortals, he'll definitely appear stern, powerful, even intimidating, but considerate nonetheless. To the kids, he is a caring father figure. Around people he knows well and loves, he will be let himself loose and goof around. When he's a musician, he's sweet. When he's an archer, he's fierce. Apollo is well liked by all gods & mortals alike & that makes me believe that he balances his serious & carefree personality well.

[luminara]

Soukoku

A Love Like War by psychncislover (37,883 - ongoing)

The city of Yokohama was maintained by two Mafia Families. When an enemy targets the Nakahara Family, they find their only hopes lies in an alliance... with their greatest enemy, the Tsushima Family. But their help comes with a price - a marriage between the two heirs! Will both sides survive not only this enemy, but each other?

Only Human by TheGeatCatsby (62,143 - complete)

Shortly after the defeat of Mimic, Dazai Osamu leaves the Port Mafia. Wanting to take advantage of the situation, the government sends Nakahara Chuuya to gain his trust.

carve your love into my skin by Dont_Wake_The_Writer (64,820 - ongoing)

Chuuya looks underneath Dazai's bandages without his permission. What he finds underneath changes everything.

can the city forgive by erytheia (27,658 - ongoing)

Chuuya knows he’s so so close, fingertips just barely brushing the possibilities between them. But Dazai’s the one calling the shots again, and he’s yanking it away, out of Chuuya’s grasp, taking absolute control before Chuuya even knows he’s given it up. Every single facet of their relationship is one-sided, both of them too blind and too stubborn to stop for a second and consider what’s on the other side of the wall between them before they try to tear their way through it.

A Dandy In The Underworld by idontevenlogic (72,606 - ongoing)

Dazai presented the white candle with one hand and stretched his other hand out towards Chuuya. “My life to defend until your bitter end! Through the fire and iron of Hell, I order you to walk with me! I name you—”

Dazai’s eyes fluttered open as a tired smile spread across his lips at the sight of Chuuya’s impossibly stormy eyes widening with the realization of what specific spell the executive was performing. Nearly falling, the Wellspring altered his course in an attempt to flee from the range of the spell, but the power of the sigil’s pull had already latched onto him like a noose and began to pull him back towards Dazai, despite his wounded hollering and ceaseless writhing.

“—I name you, Nakahara Chuuya, my familiar!”

* * *

Or: Nakahara Chuuya returns to Yokohama and is forced into aiding the Port Mafia in helping them capture a mysterious, dangerous hacker from a checkered past. Along the way, he has to adjust to his new life as the familiar to the most infamous warlock in all of Yokohama: the one and only Dazai Osamu.

of bells, coffees, and love in between by KyuBaisu (40,398 - complete)

Chuuya just wants to eat with his sister, but he ends up wearing a gown, make-up, and high-heels in a fake wedding.

Dazai just wants to see the girl from the advertisement he did years ago, the girl with the ginger hair, blue eyes, and a never disappearing annoyed expression.

A Collision of Fates by dgalerab (83,603 - complete)

Dazai Osamu has always known his fate - to become the vessel of the Hollow God, a god hellbent on reuniting with Its lover, the Tainted God, and wreaking havoc on the world.

But that doesn't mean he can't try going on a last ditch effort of a quest trying to stop it from happening.

hide the truth by writingfromtheshadows (24,611 - complete)

When Chuuya wakes up in the middle of an ongoing fight without any memory of how he got there or what happened to him, he ends up turning to someone saved as 'bandage-waster' in his phone. Somehow, it just feels like the right decision.

Gifted by TheGreatCatsby (28,863 - ongoing)

The government's experiments with genetics to induce "gifts" in children is a well-kept secret. Dazai is sent to infiltrate one of the facilities and gather information. He is assigned to be the nurse of one of the facility's oldest and most successful experiments.

Message Received by hellosweetie17 (26,579 - ongoing)

Late for work, Chuuya collides with a stranger on the sidewalk. A stranger who happens to be annoying, frustrating, flirtatious, and even worse—gorgeous. Thanks to a tricky sleight of hand, their encounter leads to Chuuya texting the wrong number.

Dazai Osamu begrudgingly finds happiness (It's a long road) by BlueFlameSakura (34,810 - ongoing)

Dazai Osamu had never even dreamt  about this happening to him, not even his worst nightmares could compare to this. To being married off to some stupid alpha prince as a mockery of a peace offering.

North- and South-Yokohama had been at war for several centuries now, and as much as the brunette would like a bit more of the tranquility peace between their nations would provide, couldn't it have been done with someone else? Or in another few decades?

Well, apparently not.

How to Hornswoggle Death by SecretlyACatLady (20,544 - ongoing)

This wasn't what Chuuya had in mind when he hoped for a big haul. ----- In which Chuuya is a fisherman with an adventurous past and Dazai is a merman who tries to bully Chuuya into killing him.

keep you alive, set you on fire by flyby (23,574 - complete)

Dazai steps out in a dress and heels for a mission, since the gown won't fit Yosano. He's only supposed to spend an hour or so leading their targets on a dance around a charity gala, but the unexpected arrival of a certain Port Mafia Executive threatens to disrupt all his plans. And when he and Chuuya find themselves finally face to face, they end up entwined in a tense game of mutual provocation...

bad enough for you by Maristella (28,555 - complete)

There are two reasons why Chuuya tolerates Dazai: 1.) The god inside Chuuya hates him; 2.) Chuuya definitely hates the god more than the stinking demon mackerel.

Or, alternatively, that one time Dazai and Chuuya swaps abilities, and Arahabaki was never the same.

360 degrees by setosdarkness (11,060 - complete)

Chuuya gets cursed by an Ability that forces him to eternally live out his biggest regret. Unlike the other victims who end up killing themselves or hurting others, Chuuya goes into a coma.

For his biggest regret is—

[groundhog day AU with a twist, where Chuuya relives the day Dazai leaves the Port Mafia over and over and over and over]

black /// reciprocity set by setosdarkness (3,363 - complete)

Soulmate AU where your soulmate mark will only appear on your skin once you’ve fallen in love with your soulmate.

Chuuya has Dazai’s name on his neck while Dazai’s skin is bare of any names.

partners by setosdarkness (27,746 - ongoing)

Chuuya realizes that he’s been married to Dazai since they’re 15: The Fic.

Featuring: wedding fairs, faked marriage registries, angry calls to newspaper agencies for unsolvable crosswords, fake leather couches, love epiphanies and falling in love, not necessarily in that order.

This Way Lies Madness by setosdarkness (41,338 - ongoing)

It’s supposed to be simple. Go in, hand over the questionnaires, wait a few minutes, take the answered questionnaires, get the fuck out. Chuuya should have known, with his shitty luck, that nothing’s ever going to be simple for him.

(—the one where Chuuya inadvertently catches the attention of quite possibly the worst serial killer in history, Dazai) (—police-trainee!Chuuya, inmate!Dazai)

our hearts steeped in hate by setosdarkness (10,202 - ongoing)

Needing to kiss your soulmate to stay alive sounds romantic in context, but absolutely shitty in reality if you’re bound to someone you despise with all your heart and soul.

The act of being human by purplesan (31,457 - complete)

‘This is Chuuya Nakahara, your new caretaker.’ his mother stated. Dazai’s eyes only widened in shock.

‘A robot?’

‘Kind of a degrading term, but yes; a robot.’

Dazai’s glaring only intensified. ‘I don’t need some pathetic excuse of a toy as a caretaker. No one can replace Odasaku anyway. Couldn't you have gotten me a pet instead?’

Chuuya didn’t seem to be affected by Dazai’s insults, which only showed how very non-human he actually was.

‘Stop behaving like a spoiled brat! We could have sent you to a clinic the moment you decided to behave like this, but instead we spent a lot of money on getting you this expensive solution.’

‘You could have spent more money on getting protection for Odasaku.’

(In which all 7 year-old Dazai really wants is to get back Odasaku, but gets Chuuya instead. Though in the end, perhaps the hatrack isn't all that terrible)

chuuya is red hot and dazai is so not by toriosaurus (12,040 - complete)

Dazai couldn't wrap his brain around it. How could the student population think that Chuuya Nakahara was more attractive than him? And, alright, sure, maybe professors shouldn't get caught up in petty drama. But to Dazai, this wasn't just drama. This was war. A war in which he was not going to lose.

The wooing art by holdinglucy (20,940 - complete)

The one where Dazai ended up with more tattoos than he intended to. Or:

Dazai's attempts at wooing the very hot, very dangerous tattoo artist he's just met.

Wrapped up in You by quinnlocke (100,935 - complete)

Chuuya just wants to get through his day as a reptile expert, but there's a bandaged lunatic in his reptile house trying to get murdered by his snakes.

Saving the man's life is a courtesy, taking him home is just asking for trouble.

still still still by toriosaurus (112,578 - complete)

Finally, Chuuya eloquently said, “I don’t want to date you.” Dazai huffed. “Yeah, well, I’m not too thrilled at the idea of having a crazy rockstar boyfriend. But you got us into this mess, you need to help us get out of it.” Had Dazai gone insane? Nakahara Chuuya and Dazai Osamu, dating? Had Chuuya not made it clear through the dozens of direct and indirect meetings that he despised Dazai with every fiber in his body.

Featuring: drunk tweets, falling in love, horrendous song writing, cheesy interviews, learning how to "fake it," and Chuuya getting over the headache that is Dazai. Not necessarily in that order.

where your loyalties lie by writingfromtheshadows (163,126 - complete)

Loyalty is the foundation of the yakuza code, something that was drilled into Chuuya at an early age. However, his lessons did not cover how to manage a political marriage with his organization's oldest rival.

color theory by setosdarkness (2,469 - complete)

Soulmate AU where your heart glows whenever you’re with your soulmate. The color of the glow depends on your feelings for them.

(the one where Chuuya and Dazai make sure to wear layers and layers of clothes and/or bandages just so they can hide their feelings.)

A Heat of Convenience /// A Mark of Inconvenience by dgalerab (19,902 - complete)

PART 1: Yosano won't give Dazai suppressants unless he can prove he's having a healthy amount of heats. Dazai tries to outsmart her. He fails. Chuuya picks up the slack.

PART 2: Dazai gets used to his new arrangement with Chuuya as his heat partner by forcing Chuuya to claim him. It works both better and worse than he expected.

centrifugal/centripetal by TopHat69 (154,138 - ongoing)

[No Summary Available] A/B/O Dynamics

A Catspaw in the Wolf Court by dgalerab (58,357 - complete)

Prince Dazai, a single werecat in a court of wolves, is to be married off to Prince Chuuya, a fox in the kingdom that accepts everyone. He's given one instruction: bring back a defector to the wolves and topple Chuuya's kingdom from the inside.

Things, of course, get more complicated than that.

Counting the Days by Neiro Gin (Neiroa) (23,575 - complete)

How will a certain bandage-wearing ex-Mafioso detective react to hearing that his former partner-who-is-definitely-not-more-than-that has…

…a girlfriend?

“He has been all lovey-dovey with her ever since they came back together!”

“No way! How could any girl fall for that short hat rack?”

“I heard she’s glued to him every single minute of the day. He seems to really like her as well! I’ve never seen him so sweet to anybody!”

“Even if—and that’s a BIG if—she loves him, he’s not the type to just fall in love after only knowing someone for a short amount of time.”

“She’s French.”

“…”

“D-Dazai-san? Dazai-san?!”

Countdown by setosdarkness (31,175 - ongoing)

Eternally-single Chuuya is dared by his friends to date someone. Chuuya eventually agrees, but adds a condition: if the guy he chooses breaks up with him within 10 days, it will suffice as proof that Chuuya’s not meant for dating and therefore his friends will stop nagging at him about his non-existent lovelife.

Thinking that it’s an easy win, Chuuya chooses to date Dazai, his asshole childhood friend who’s known to be a serial womanizer.

Chuuya... is very wrong.

don't you ever tame your demons by writingfromtheshadows (108,592 - complete)

Every year, a handful of children are born with the ability to command supernatural powers. Thousands of dollars and dozens of trained specialists are tasked with identifying, tracking down, and labeling each one as Deviant. Once identified, they have no rights other than those that are permitted to them, and disobedience is a crime punishable by death.

Chuuya has never known a life outside of the routine he's forced to follow, but when the boss of Yokohama's Port Mafia offers him a chance of freedom, Chuuya is not prepared for the rebellion he's stumbling into.

Chuuya Nakahara and the Falling Camelia by Anonymous (12,628 - ongoing)

A new year begins at Hogwarts, and between a nervous wreck of a first year Chuuya met over the summer managing to become Akutagawa's arch enemy upon their first meeting, a pair of second year's younger sisters' complicating things, and leftover tension with Tachihara, Chuuya is in for a hectic term.

Things take a turn for the worse, however when there are rumors about a man eating were tiger, Dementors -- unspeakable creatures who bring back horrible memories and can steal your very soul -- surrounding Hogwarts as wardens and watchmen, and a murderer breaks out of Azkaban, a high security prison in the wizarding world.

Especially when that murderer is dead set on getting his hands on Dazai.

Chuuya Nakahara and the Chambers of Draconia by Anonymous (51,820 - complete)

After a first year full of questions, Chuuya barely gets a moment to breathe before his second year proves the last to be gentle in comparison. With tension among friends and the looming threat of an unknown danger, he'll need all of the clues he can get -- not just for the safety of the school, but for the strength of his friendships.

Madder Aubrieta by hypermoyashi (21,790 - ongoing)

Flowers bloomed, rain fell, and the whims of nature dictated all. This was the status quo that Chuuya knew, and it was a surprisingly delicate order. Change came in the form of a mysterious man he found, woken from an ageless sleep by none other than Chuuya himself.

Margin of Error /// Scale of Success by izanyas (31,416 - complete)

PART 1: After a failed assassination attempt on his person, Dazai finds himself recovering in an unfamiliar place: a hospital where criminals abound, staff and patients alike, and Dazai's own doctor is a little too attractive.

PART 2: Dazai makes due on his promise. Chuuya has to revise his.

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 30: 1x21 The Return of the Archons

Took a break from Halloween-ing to watch TOS with my mom. Today’s ep, the rather lackluster Return of the Archons.

A very in media res beginning! Unsurprisingly since a lot of the drama of this episode hangs on the audience not knowing the whole story.

Sulu is looking damn fine. These weird outfits really do it for him.

Maybe O’Neill had the right idea in running instead of waiting for the transporter. (Or maybe not, seeing as we later find out they caught him too.)

Look at the heels on their boots lol. I always forget about that.

Today’s official adventure: looking for the missing ship Archon.

“Sulu’s mysterious condition requires that I, the Captain, collect all of the most important people on board the ship and beam down into a planet we already know to be full of dangers.”

“Materialization completed.” Uh good to know Kirk.

Why is Spock wearing that dramatic-ass cloak? (I know it’s because he needs a hood to cover his ears but he still looks very much not of a piece.)

Whereas McCoy looks like a down-home Georgia gentleman. He looks like he’s returned to his natural habitat.

I bet these are the sort of outfits AOS Kirk wished he was wearing when he was sighing wearily at his closet filled with uniforms.

I love that this planet is clearly the set of a Western. Or... Maybury. Or also Miri.

Not only did The 100 steal S3 from this episode, it also stole the Red Sun from it, didn’t it?

They keep saying they came for the festival and yet it is VERY clear they don’t know what the festival is. This disguise is not working.

It got dark damn fast. They’re outside, it’s almost 12--one would assume that’s 12 noon--and then they go inside, talk for about 3 minutes, go to another room, and it’s pitch black out!

Is this like The Purge? (I asked myself this while we were watching and--spoiler alert!--it is! The Purge was based, perhaps subconsciously, on this ep.)

Kirk looks very handsome in this ep. Like whoever directed it looks like he’s in love with him.

“Crewmen, here are your various assignments... Mr. Spock... come with me, somewhere private. To talk.”

Spock sleeping with his eyes open. (Meditating, my mom says.)

Oh look, it’s the secret police, in their brown robes.

Landru doesn’t seem too gentle lmao. “No dissent is allowed. You will be absorbed.” Randomly killing that guy who kinda said “maybe, uh, the festival...isn’t great??”

Kirk makes one comment about how everyone’s slow on the uptake here, and slow to respond to questions and denials, and Spock goes heart eyes. “Captain, how are you so smart and logical?”

“Fascinating, this is merely a hollow tube, Captain.” And uh I guess we’re never going to explain how that hollow tube kills people then?

They’re communing...

Love that Spock points out that the people are being communicated with through telepathy. Though... I remain sightly perplexed how the computer can do that. The next stage in Apple computing I guess.

Why isn’t Reger affected by all this? Like they imply that some people are spared the “festival” festivities because of their age, but that doesn’t seem to explain why he’s not “of the body.” Like being of the body isn’t a choice that people make, you’re ether absorbed or you’re not. They say later that he’s immune--but that in itself requires explanation. Like idk it seems a major plot hole that there can even be a resistance when the computer has controlled the society for thousands of years.

So I guess the backstory on the Archon ship is that they were all either absorbed or killed when they objected to the computer and its creepiness.

I do think the little hints that the society used to be way more advanced are intriguing.

“What should we do about this body that’s going to act as a tracking beacon right to us?” / “Uh, knock him out again.”

This planet is so peaceful.. no war or crime... except for people occasionally beating and raping each other nbd.

Was that Starfleet Officer really just going to shoot that projection? Not the best and the brightest being recruited nowadays I guess.

“The creature called Landru.”

“Enough analysis.” Spock always wants to talk through the whole backstory of the weird situations they’re in, while Kirk is a man of action!

Bones is really not being used to full capacity in this ep. He’s just kinda there in the background, until he’s absorbed.

Spock is very concerned about what will happen to the Captain, but also kind of... skeptical about this whole thing. For someone in control of his emotions he exhibits a lot of emotions imo.

“Happy communing!” Just gonna say this all the time now.

Time for another mind meld. So casual about it now.

Spock’s face during Kirk’s Landru-imitating speech is HILARIOUS. That eyebrow! The eye roll! I really think he’s amused by all of this.

He’s not very good at pretending to be absorbed. He sees Jim and he’s immediately like “Captain...!” all normal like.

“The peace of the factory, the tranquility of the machine.”

“You’re thinking the same thing I am. Mr. Spock... I love you.”

It’s pretty awesome that the same ep that introduces the Prime Directive also immediately finds Kirk forming loopholes in it. “We’re not supposed to interfere.... in living, growing cultures, which this isn’t! Moral conundrum solved.”

Spock actually straight up punched a man in the face lol.

Interesting that the communicators work like that--Spock is talking to the Enterprise on his, and Kirk just slides into the conversation on his device, without Spock abandoning his call. I think because they became cell phones irl that I think of them as cells but they’re not. It’s just weird to see them casually used in these totally bonkers ways.

Lol he returned them to a simpler, easier time. I guess you could say Landru made Beta III great again.

So Reger had second thoughts about actually destroying Supreme Leader once it got too real?

Interesting how Landru’s lair is so much more sci-fi-y in aesthetic than the town. Another hint of what the society used to look like.

Spock without the cloak. Damn son.

“We do not intend to die.” That’s a good attitude.

Revealing the Wizard behind the curtain...

“The whole society is a machine’s concept of perfection.”

A man programming himself into an all knowing machine that lives forever really does remind me of Becca and ALIE except with a 60s aesthetic--a large, physical computer rather than an AI.

“The good of the body is the Prime Directive.” Tbh I feel like what this whole ep is saying is that sometimes Prime Directives need to be bent if the reality of the situation doesn’t square with the spirit of the directive.

I love when Kirk destroys computers using Extreme Logic.

That should be a presidential debate question "What have you done to do justice to the full potential of every individual of the body?"

“Well, now that that’s done, we’re going to go. Have fun rebuilding your entire society from nothing. We’ll leave you a single sociologist to help out.”

So Mr. Sulu is back to normal, and he immediately returns to the bridge to give a little, goofy sitcom smile-and-shrug and kick some random extra outta his chair.

Why do they assume Landru was a good guy lol? I mean he solved their extreme violence problem but he instituted a plenty of other problems instead. Also he was clearly a megalomaniac.

This society’s backstory sounds an awful lot like pre-reform Vulcan. Maybe they should just send a Vulcan to teach them Surak’s ways.

Honestly they were left alone for like an hour and had a handful of fist fights. I think they really were a very violent people! Maybe destroying the dictator-computer was a bad idea!

I find it very odd that the whole festival thing was never actually explained. I guess it must have been a purge idea--that because they are so naturally violent and terrible aliens, they need to let off that steam in some way every now and again, and they do this through a “festival” of no-holds-barred violence. Still kinda wish they’d explicitly circled back on that in some way though.

I think the most interesting part of this episode was the planet’s back story. Kirk acts in the end as if they were basically human, but they’re not. Also, I got the impression that Landru convinced people to follow him first, and then only when he died, set himself up as an eternal God/Computer. So he must have been a very interesting, charismatic person. And that one of his ideas was to return to a “simpler time” in everything from dress to architecture, as if that had any real correlation with levels of violence is... fascinating. Was that the hook that he hung his reform on?

Overall, as I said, not a super strong S1 episode, but not bad at all. Next week is Space Seed, a classic episode that unfortunately was absolutely wrung dry by too many repeats over the course of the franchise. (...Yes I am referring specifically to STID obviously.) Still that shouldn’t take away from the brilliance of the original!

[aflower-exe]

The one in which you get stuck in a closet with Baekhyun

[ 3:27pm ] A group project? Really? You look around the room at the faces of your classmates. Of course you would have to complete a group project in the one class that you have no friends in. “The assignment is simple. I want you and your partner to build a 3D diagram of your assigned biomolecule. The partners will be posted on the board. When the bell rings please move in an orderly fashion”

Your class definitely did not move in an orderly fashion. In fact one might say it was a downright bloodbath. Your classmates were pushing and shoving their way to the board as if it was the last piece of food during an apocalypse. You roll your eyes and take your time packing up. You were clearly in no hurry to see who your partner was. You actually kind of dreaded the thought. I mean there were some pretty bad options. You could be with Nayeon the ditzy popular girl who you swear has never not worn her bright pink blazer, or maybe Johnny the know it all who thinks speaking more than one language is a personality trait, or even worse you could have Irene who’s stare is said to be so cold that the temperature around her actually drops.

As the crowd dissipates, you walk up to the board. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you glided your finger across the board in search of your name. “Y/N (Phospho)Lipid-” Lipids? Easy. You could draw a lipid molecule in your sleep. With a deep breath you move your finger over to see the name of your partner. “B A E ” Bae… Bae Suzy? You think that’s the pretty girl that always humming behind you but you’re not entirely sure. Either way you could’ve done a lot worse. “K” what? That’s not the next letter of bae suzy. Wait...It couldn’t be... “Looks like you and me are partners” You feel a long slender arm wrapping around your shoulder. Of all the people... you think, cursing silently. You throw Baekhyun’s arm off of you, giving him the space to maneuver himself in fromt of you. “Consider yourself lucky. It’s not everyday a girl like you gets to be partnered with someone like me” He smirks. You take a deep breath to suppress the rage building inside of you. “Lucky me” You reply between gritted teeth. You push pass Baekhyun and make your way through the halls, desperate to get home. “Hey wait up!” Baekhyun calls, he starts running to catch up, “Seriously for someone with such short legs you sure do walk fast.” You clench your fist and walk faster, hoping he’ll give up. “Hey, ____, slow down we need to talk” “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do the project myself and write your name on it, just leave me alone” you call over your shoulder, making sure you maintain your speedy pace. “No wait that’s not—” Baekhyun sighs and grabs your arm, stopping you from running away, then pulls you into a dark closet.

“What the hell!!” You scream, pulling away. “What is wrong with you?” “You weren’t listening,” He pants “and you walk so goddamn fast”. You squint your eyes but you can barely see his figure in the darkness. “Where even are we?” You ask. “I don’t know i thought this would be a classroom” You feel around for a light switch, patting down everything near you. Suddenly, you feel something… strange. It’s soft and warm and… damp. “Baekhyun… please tell me I’m touching your very sweaty arm” “... That’s not me” Baekhyun stutters. You feel your stomach start to drop, but before you could let out the scream that had been building inside of you, the lights flicker on. “A janitor's closet?With the way our class always looks i assumed we had no janitors” He frowns. “If that wasn’t you then what was—” You slowly turn your head to the large, moldy sponge that your hand was resting on. You gag and pull away, wiping the slime off of your hands and onto the wall. You reach your hand for the door and twist the doorknob gingerly, but it doesn’t open. “Baekhyun… it’s stuck” You twist on the knob again, this time with both hands but the door doesn’t budge. “Step aside…” Baek sighs. He moves your hand and pulls on the doorknob, twisting it with two hands. “____… I don’t know how to say this, but I think we’re stuck” You bang on the door and scream for help, but all the students and faculty are long gone. Baekhyun joins in, banging on the door, so ahrd you’re sure it’ll break. “This is all your fault. I offered to do the entire project by myself but you just had to stop me. Now we’ll never get it done.” “Hey, i was just asking you to slow down. As far as I’m concerned it was your unbridled bitchyness that got us into this mess.” “Oh fuck you” You say rolling your eyes in annoyance. “Wouldn’t you like to” You sigh pull your arms in close to your chest, scared of what might happen if you leave your fist unattended.

You and Baekhyun slouch onto the floor, making sure to keep as much space between the two of you. After a while the tense silence becomes peaceful, and you find yourself growing tired. You watch Baekhyun as he rests his head on the metal shelf behind him. Just when you think he’s fallen asleep, he starts to sing a soft tune. His voice is like honey, warm, smooth, and sickeningly sweet. No matter how much you despise him, you couldn’t help but feel soothed by his voice. You soon find it impossible to keep your eyes open, and before you know it, you’re asleep.

[ 7:45pm ] What a terrible dream… you think. You stretch your arms out and yawn loudly. Imagine being partnered with Baekhyun… god that would be terrible… “Good morning princess,” you have got to be kidding me “or evening. I don’t actually know what time it is my phone’s been dead for hours” You sigh loudly and Massage your temples, his presence already an annoyance, “Y’know I actually thought this was all a bad dream… i wish it was a bad dream” “Nice to know you’re dreaming about me” He smirks, a mischievous look gleaming in his eyes. “You are… infuriating… to say the least. I don’t care how cute you are I don’t know how girls put up with you” “So you admit that I’m cute?” You feel your face flush. You open your mouth to respond but you know the bright blush that shrouded your face was all the answer he needed.

The two of you find yoruself sitting in an awkward silence for what seems like forever. “So… do you have any plans tonight” Baek says, his voice smooth and confident. “Excuse me?” You say, a dark, angry blush rising to your cheeks. Baekhyun chuckles, “The project. We’re partners, remember?” “Pfft, duh! obviously! i mean what else would you have meant by that” You chuckle nervously. What else would he have meant? Did you expect him to ask you out? Did you want him to ask you out? Now it was Baekhyun’s turn to blush, but unlike you he looked you dead in the eye. “Stop looking at me like that” you say, avoiding his gaze. “Can I ask you a question” He says, his voice suddenly serious. You narrow your eyes at him, scanning his face for any sign of mockery, “Shoot” “Why do you hate me?” Woah. You were not expecting that. “What?” you stutter. “I’ve always been nice to you and yet you’ve always hated me.” He’s right. He may be egotistical and arrogant, but he was always nice to you. Why did you hate him? Was it his perfect voice or his perfect hair? Was it his effortless charm and gracefulness? Or maybe it was his smile that you could just spend eternity getting lost in. “You’re just so… perfect. All the girls like you, all the teachers like you, you drive a nice car and wear nice clothes. And you’re so nice to me! I go out of my way to be bitchy to you and you’re still nice. I just—” Baekhyun cuts you off by colliding his lips with yours. Of course, the kiss is perfect.His lips are soft and plush as they melt into yours. He tastes like piña colada lip balm and mountain dew, a strangely addicting combination.

When he pulls away his hand is still resting on your cheek. Before you can think, you reach your hand up and punch him dead in the face. The sound of your fist colliding with his nose seemingly amplified in the tiny closet. “What the fuck!” He screams, his hands holding his now less than perfect nose. “Why the hell did you kiss me?” You ask. You actually didn’t mind him kissing you. In fact, you wanted him to do it again. But you couldn’t let him know that. You’d never hear the end of it. “Why the hell did you break my goddamn nose?” “Hello? Is someone in there?” You hear a voice calling out from the hall. You stand up and move towards the door “He-” “SHHHH,” Baekhyun whispers, covering your mouth with his hand, “Do you want someone to come in and see that you broke my nose?” You push his hand away and turn to him, “Don’t you wanna get out of here???” Baekhyun pouts. He seems conflicted. “Yeah, but—” “Oh my god. You’re embarrassed that i broke your nose. Do you want me to lie to protect your delicate emotions?” “Oh fuck off—” Before you even get the chance to respond, the janitor door opens and you are greeted by the familiar fluorescent light of the hallway. In front of you stands a middle aged teacher who you’ve never seen before. “What are you two doing in here, school ended 4 hours ago. And why is he bleeding?” “Because he’s an idiot” The teacher squints her eyes at you, eyeing you up and down. “I didn’t know that idiocy caused people to start spontaneously bleeding from their nose” “I think it’s a new phenomenon. It’s chronic, very serious in fact i should be taking him to the hospital now”

You grab Baekhyun by the hand and hurry out of the school, “Thanks for saving us” you yell, not bothering to wait and hear the teacher response. Once the two of you are out of the door Baekhyun pulls away from you and stares. “Aren’t you gonna apologize?” “For what” “For breaking my nose!” Baekhyun huffs. He still has a hand covering his nose. “Sorry” You mutter “You are? You’re actually sorry” You press your lips together in an attempt to seal in the laugh that was threatening to erupt out of you. “No, not really” Baekhyun looks at you. For a moment it looks like he’s ready to scold you. His eyes look stern and he presses his mouth into a straight line. Then he starts laughing. His laugh is infectious.It’s light and airy and joyful and you can’t help but join in. As you laugh you can’t help but think, maybe he’s not so bad after all.

[ a/n: idk why i had so much trouble coming up with an ending to this lmao. This is lowkey cute i hope better writers revamp this idea someday. I really like the whole enemies to lover idea with Baekhyun. Hope you enjoy this!! ]

[jvlicns]

julian amante , twenty - three , cis male , THE TOWER .

amusing , candid , resourceful , petty , cataclysmic , arrogant.

first of all HELLO !! im z. 25 / she+her / pst. im thrilled to be here and honestly a little shocked ?? my app was a rushed MESS but im so happy the admins understood my nonsense !! 

this is going to be a lil long so pls bear w me. im going to break it down into sections and eventually make an entire bio , but this will do in the mean time !

connections are here , & my discord is zvvf#1885 ! 

* tw for mention of drugs & alcohol

. . .

TAROT ━

the tower represents chaos , destruction , & upheaval. this change is usually sudden & unexpected -- & not always good. the tower itself is a symbol of ambition , but in this card we see it built on faulty premises & false beliefs , all of which are no longer useful.

the ruin of the tower is inevitable -- necessary for growth & groundbreaking renewal. it’s time to break out of the old ways.

AESTHETICS ━

cracked asphalt , bloody knuckles , tangerine sunsets. the smell of freshly cut grass . still , slow mornings. a neat row of fire ants , climbing up your bedroom wall. broken stained glass , an overgrown field. tears of laughter , the only you’ll ever shed. 

money in a yellow envelope , guilt in your eyes , pressed flowers , a string quartet , corruption , loss of morals , student debt , a yellow light , darkness , hellfire.

THOUGHTS ━

" you’ve got your orders & that’s enough. you don’t know who’s telling you to throw your classmates off the scent , but you’re getting paid to do it. maybe your moral compass would stop you if you didn’t struggle so much in the financial department , but hey. you’re doing what you have to do to survive. if only you didn’t have to go against your better judgment for it. "

GENERAL ━

assigned to REYNOLDS house 

fourth year -- senior .

currently working at the corner store as a cashier .

scholarship student -- 2.3 average gpa .

athlete , st. cade’s lacrosse team .

BACKGROUND ━

grew up in a small town in arizona , in one of those unfinished suburbs that ran out of funding halfway through a government project to “ upgrade ” that was met with widespread disapproval. it’s all empty pools & dirt lawns , a patchwork neighborhood of old houses mixed in with the new. 

former golden boy who peaked in high school : star athlete , prom king , voted best smile. eternally toeing the line between CHAMPION  & DIRTBAG.

well - liked , but known for being something of a hell - raiser. out every night , hungover every morning. it was less obvious back then -- he could easily brush it off as simple youthful rebellion , rather than a real personality defect.

his first taste of alcohol was in seventh grade. a summer night , with the sun retiring for the day but leaving her kiss on the still - warm pavement. his world -- previously filled with sunday school , tense family dinners , & 24 hour marathons of professional passive aggression , was forever changed. finally , the boredom slipped away. & not just that ! this was actually FUN. 

but for someone with zero impulse control . . . a door opened , & he never managed to close it.

from a young age , his parents were always involved in the church. they attended every sunday , no excuses. 

this lapsed as the years passed & the amante family found it more & more unpleasant to be in the same room together , but his parent’s beliefs never wavered. religion was used as a weapon in their home -- to shame & guilt. they claimed love , preached tolerance. what they practiced , however , was the opposite. as he grew older , julian managed to weasel his way out of most of their theological outings. he gained some freedom , in addition to the ire of his family. their disappointment in him grew from a tiny acorn to a mighty oak.

his parents had their own issues , long before julian came along. a marriage between two irreconcilable people. the love they should have shared mutated into something twisted , something that they could give only to their son. it was enough for them to feed him , clothe him , & put a roof over his head. anything else was simply asking too much. 

despite coming from a low - income family , things have never been particularly DIFFICULT for him. sure , they struggled. he’s lost count of the times the power got shut off , or the water. but julian was the type of kid who could charm teachers into bumping his grade up to a 71% , despite the dozens of half - finished assignments & failed tests. he didn’t really have to try -- they just wanted to help him. ( pity , perhaps ? he turns a blind eye )

he coasted through school. one of those natural athletes that coaches & admin treat like celebrities , focusing all their attention on a teenager they have high hopes for. higher hopes than he had for himself , in fact. 

julian never had dreams , not a plan for his future. all that stubborn arrogance fooled them : he’s spent the better part of the past seven years stalling. cutting corners & taking shortcuts , desperately avoiding reality.

he never expected to even leave his hometown , let along attend a prestigious college on a full ride lacrosse scholarship. somehow , he played enough games & passed enough classes to qualify for an opportunity that would pluck him from his sad , tragic storyline & deposit him on a shiny path to success. a fresh start. 

he didn’t want to go. fought endlessly about it with his parents , his friends , himself. his place wasn’t at some hoity - toity school , surrounded by do - gooders & the conscientious. julian may have a knack for delusion , for spinning a story that suits him in whatever moment is passing. but he’s smart enough knows what his future holds : drinking himself to an early death in the very house he was born in. you can’t fight fate -- but you can surely postpone it.

in the end , it’s the boredom that convinces him. he’s said & done just about everything he can here , exhausted all the options he cares to consider. made plenty of enemies , as well as friends. built & burnt bridges. 

the expectation of his teachers , his parents , were choking him. it’s foolish to think that this might be the way out – he’ll never change. but why not have some fun , while he’s still here ?

st.cade’s was a treasure trove for julian , filled with endless opportunities to amuse himself. despite his placement in reynold’s house & the mandatory church shit ( a part of his scholarship’s stipulations ) , it hasn’t been bad. another social scene for him to invade , conquests to be had , fights to provoke. the first few years were amazing : an intoxicated blur of his own little slice of this world. 

he lives in the moment , greedily gathering every experience he can. nodding off in class , smoking behind the greenhouse , collecting all the free alcohol he manages to sniff out.

he’s learned this : a loud laugh & bravado can get you far. but now , his actions have finally caught up with him. the school is threatening to terminate his scholarship , to pack up his bags & send him on the first train home. & while he has no idea what to do , he knows he can’t go back. god , no. 

even without what’s keeping him – the enticing mystery of helena’s disappearance , his friends , his freedom. he just can’t stand to go in reverse ; it would mean facing the consequences of every mistake he’s ever made ( & there are quite a few ! ) 

he’s a shark – he has to keep moving. 

that first letter came soon after the school - wide assembly. small , neat type. direct. there was no mincing words , the sender made it perfectly clear : this is his only option. if he wants to maintain this lifestyle , this is the way. so he burns the letters , following their instructions. almost relieved to be given direction. it’s a respite in the current disarray – something he used to enjoy , but now just feels exhausting. he’s the band , humming away as the titanic sinks. not my business , he thinks. but he’ll drown all the same.

PERSONALITY ━

he’s an asshole but a F U N asshole -- that makes it palatable , right ?? 

not a dumbass , but the lack of impulse control + arrogance could have fooled me ! his intelligence is only hinted at , invisible unless you’re looking : reciting keats from memory , listing off all 79 of jupiter’s moons. remnants of past & fleeting obsessions.

 has to actively undermine his own common sense -- for the laughs , of course !

selfish ; his needs & wants come before anyone else’s. a childish habit , yes , but one he’s been unable to break. ( not that he’s tried )

vacillates between aloof & dramatic. you can count on him to stir some shit up -- he adores chaos & just can’t keep his mouth shut. petty , to a fault.

he’s hot - shit & he knows it ; well aware of his pretty face & statuesque build. julian’s never been afraid of using it to his advantage , or even just reminding anyone around him of just how cute he is. ( listen up 5′s , a 10 is speaking ! )

 has a strong aversion to authority. “ don’t tell me what to do ! ” . . . * quietly takes your advice when you’re not looking * . . .

the good parts of him are buried deep. his loyalty , his gentleness. a warm heart that can easily empathize , but chooses not to. julians pursuit of superficial gratification blinds him , warping his reflection like a funhouse mirror.

aggressive & unrelenting. this could be channeled into something of a work ethic , if he cared enough. instead , he uses it to get what he wants. whatever that might be.

curious as a cat with nine lives , he won’t hesitate to ask the question everyone’s thinking. that bluntness is almost appealing , as long as it’s not directed at you. this makes him somewhat of a good listener , even if he’s only paying attention to satisfy his own nosiness. 

he’ll literally fight for the ones he loves. there aren’t many of them , but the sentiment stands. years of sports have taught him the value of teamwork , & he has yet to shake it. once you endear yourself to him , there’s no going back.

despite everything , julian manages to be a charismatic little firebrand. he’ll guarantee a good time , he just won’t help clean up the mess.

FUN FACTS ━

can fit his entire fist in his mouth

has The Loudest Sneeze Of All Time

once bit into an apple n saw a WORM inside so now he hates apples w a passion

right handed , but taught himself to be ambidextrous during the summer between fifth & sixth grade

promptly forgot he was ambidextrous & never uses his left hand

has surprisingly neat handwriting

can fall asleep ANYWHERE

likes country music ( will never admit it , tho )

his mother used to read him poetry , so he’s lowkey Very Into It

can’t carry a tune for shit , & his impressions are a w f u l. his british accent is just a cheap dick van dyke imitation , & his australian accent is what the british one SHOULD be

[lokishornns]

Make a Wish [2]

—

masterlist

—

— send requests!!

pairing: loki x reader (fem)

type: series, some humor?

rating: pg13

word count: 4,419

warnings: cursing? probably. occasional mentions of being killed. loki being annoyingly arrogant

summary:  You’re a new employee for the Make a Wish foundation, struggling to make a living in the ever expensive New York City. When your boss - who, for the record, hates your guts - assigns an impossible task as a way to get you fired, you do everything in your power to make a kid happy. Even if that does include getting face to face with the most hated man in the city.

notes: im actually dead but i managed to crank this out, so hopefully, this does well. also, a huge thanks to @lady-loki-ren for being a saving grace for this chapter!

send requests

—

“So, this kid wants to meet Reindeer Games?” Tony asks and you hum in acknowledgment.

“Yeah, not sure why, but I don’t really think it matters too much,” you shrug, eyeing the billionaire from the back.

In all honesty, he’s not super impressive. His presence is intimidating and practically terrifying, but presence set aside – he almost seems normal. He’s on the shorter side and his hair is starting to grey – from stress or age, you couldn’t really tell. His skin, however, is smooth as hell and you wonder what products he uses to get his skin like that.

Tony turns into a random room that’s shrouded in darkness and smells far too similar to a hospital. You glance around in the darkness, hoping to catch sight of everything, but you can only make out a few computer monitors. Tony goes to one, turning it on, the light piercing through the darkness.

“Unfortunately, Reindeer Games is hard to contact, but if I piss him off enough, he’ll answer,” Tony says, and you crack a bewildered smile at his words. They almost seem like teenage enemies.

Tony begins to type in some random credentials that you probably shouldn’t know or even be around to witness him doing it, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so you watch as he pulls up some sort of program, typing in what you could only decipher as code. He leans back in the chair, his fingers now interlaced and placed over his chest.

“What do we do now?” you ask, peering at the screen, unable to make out any of what Tony had just done.

“Give it a minute, Loki does not really care for the ever-pressing concept of time,” Tony explains as you nod. You resort to leaning back against a metal table, the edge biting into your skin in the slightest.

Time passes slowly in the room and the awkward silence seems to make everything significantly worse. On top of that, your stomach growls loudly, startling yourself and Tony.

I would kill for a piece of bread, you think, or maybe some hot chocolate.

“When was the last time you ate, kid?” Tony asks and you’re surprised at the amount of concern you detect in his voice.

“Uh, maybe last night? I’m not entirely sure,” you say, sheepishly.

“Well, we can’t have you starving, can we?” Tony says, springing up from his seat, then instantly regrets it. You watch as he sways in the slightest, his hand going to cradle his head. “There’s a price you pay for being a near-alcoholic,” he mumbles before regaining his composure and striding out of the room in his ‘Stark’ glory.

You’re not sure if you should follow, but you aren’t in the mood for being in an abandoned room that houses the only communication to the most villainous person in New York City, so you scramble after him, your feet almost tripping over themselves.

You soon reach what could only be described as a massive kitchen. There are white, polished wooden cabinets that are on almost every wall – save for the one wall that is purely windows – and around four or five ovens are pushed into one section of the kitchen. Drawers litter the kitchen and it’s hard to miss the impeccable stainless-steel sink that seems to be as big as your bathroom in your apartment. Your eyes land on two massive fridges that you initially thought were doors leading into the many rooms in this monstrosity of a tower.

“Whaddya want? We have pasta, some leftover beef roast, some pop-tarts; really anything you want,” he says, and you glance back at the massive room, surveying the large granite countertops and the grey backsplash.

“Whatever is fine, I don’t want to impose more than I already have,” you mumble and from what you can tell with his sunglasses on, Tony rolls his eyes in the slightest.

“Please. You know what, Bucky’s been annoying me lately; let’s just swipe some of his snacks,” Tony suggests – or more instructs – and heads over to some cabinets on the opposite side of the kitchen. He shuffles through some things before snatching up some chips and other random snacking items.

He motions for you to grab the snacks and follow him out of the kitchen, walking down the same hallway you had come from before entering the same dark room. He sets the chips and snacks on the table, grabbing a bag of chips and sitting down in his seat. You carefully pry some saltwater taffy from the pile, popping it in your mouth.

A loud beeping sound makes your heart jump and your attention is drawn to the monitor that is now flashing red and has words you can understand. Incoming call.

“Perfect timing,” Tony mumbles before hitting the enter button on the keyboard, answering the call. A loud, staticky crackling sound pierces your ears at first and you wince alongside Tony who’s practically cringing away from the sound. The crackling fades away to a light static sound before a voice comes through the monitor.

“What does my brother want now?”

You’re surprised at the voice. You had never heard Loki talk and his voice is surprisingly smooth – much smoother than Thor’s. He doesn’t sound like a villain.

“We have a special guest who is very eager to meet you!” Tony cheers with fake enthusiasm and you frown, not sure if Loki’s going to be all too happy with his enemy taunting him. But surprisingly, he bites back.

“A guest so special they came through you? How exciting!” the sarcasm drips from the monitor and you almost want to laugh before remembering that this dude terrorizes New York on a daily.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I have someone from the Make a Wish foundation here,” Tony starts, and you hear what you presume to be a snort crackle through the speakers.

“And what does that have to do with me?” Loki asks, and before Tony can respond, you tap his shoulder gently, as if asking if you have permission to talk. He nods and you swallow thickly, your hands beginning to shake.

“There’s a little boy in a hospital right now who would love to meet you,” you pause waiting for some sort of evil comment. “He really idolizes you –”

“A terrible idea, really,” you hear Loki’s voice puncture through your sentence and a snort slips from you before you can control it. Who knew that Loki Laufeyson had humor?

“I was just wondering if somehow we could work something out for a visit? He’s in his last stages, so he doesn’t have very long,” you chew on your lip as you finish your anti-climatic speech to the literal God. You only get more nervous as the second tick on, feeling as if it’s been an eternity since you fell silent.

“This child can die happier without knowing me,” his words cut through you like a knife and before you can respond or plead for his assistance, the line goes dead and you freeze, your mouth open wide. At this point, you didn’t care about your job, but you sure as hell cared about this kid.

You groaned – loudly, staring at the now-blank screen. What were you to do now? Go back and tell this kid ‘hey Danny, what’s up, so you’re probably going to die without meeting your idol, sorry!’? You dragged a hand down your face, cursing the dumb villain that is too sure of himself and prideful to do anything for a dying kid.

Tony swivels in the chair, offering a sympathetic look towards you. You only smile weakly as reassurance before a loud clanging sounds from outside the room.

“Dammit, Bucky and Sam can’t work together to save their lives,” Tony mutters before racing out of the room to somehow stop a quarrel. You stand silently for a minute, surveying the room as your mind reels over the recent events.

Your eyes land on the keyboard, noticing a manila folder placed underneath it, as if a cheat sheet in a test. You hadn’t noticed it before so Tony must have put the folder there. You peer at the doorway, holding your breath as you wait for the Avenger to come back in, but he doesn’t, and the loud sounds are still erupting from the kitchen. You tiptoe over to the folder, gently scooting the keyboard off it. Your eyes widen a fraction when reading the name of the folder.

Laufeyson, Loki

You hesitate, your fingers tracing the small bends and creases in the folders as if it were ages old. You pry open the front, your eyes trained on the folder. In it are news reports, criminal records, and details of some of the encounters with the villain. You’re just about to shut it closed when a bright orange tab catches your attention. You flip the papers to the orange tab, shock filling you. There’s an address.

And it’s Loki’s.

You wave your goodbyes to the few Avengers, assuring that you would be able to navigate on your own, and thanking Tony and Thor for their hospitality. You actually cringe once you meet Steve’s gaze that holds a petrifying look, but you just escape into the elevator, giving an unsure smile.

You’re finally able to breathe in the elevator, your head pounding from the number of experiences you had gone through today. You had met with some of the Avengers, stole and ate snacks with Tony Stark, and contacted a Supervillain. Oh, and you also stole the address out of the file, but no worries. You may just get tracked down by a gang of superheroes and find yourself eternally imprisoned.

Why do they have his address, yet they don’t attack? You shake your head of the irrelevant thoughts. All that matters is this kid.

You meet Helda’s gaze as you step from the elevator, and somehow it makes you curl into yourself and reminds you that your clothes are still damp from the torrential downpour. You glance through the windows that are black and spotted with raindrops, your steps uneasy as you approach the doors that lead outside. You give one last look to Helda before pushing out into the rain.

You’re immediately met with burning cold rain that tears down your face and clothes, prompting you to shiver through the walk. You glance occasionally at the small post-it note that has begun to get ruined by the rain, the ink smearing slightly. You tuck it into your hands, hoping to keep it as dry as possible.

When you arrive at your intended destination, it’s well past ten and the sky has retreated its attack, only leaving a small drizzle in its place. You glance from the paper to the house, your brows furrowing. This was the right address. Loki lives in this?

It was a large, modern-style home with black doors and polished, white rock that made up the body of the building. Large, opaque windows stood ominously encasing the black doors. You gulped.

Well, Loki sure did have a flair for design apparently.

Your nerves begin to overtake you, anxiety springing through your bones like lava. Your hands are trembling, and you can’t tell if it’s from the damp clothes that are still on your back or if it’s from the prospect of coming face to face with the most feared dude in New York. You bit your lip.

You cautiously approached the door, knocking twice on the doors that now seemed much larger than when you surveyed them from across the street. You waited patiently, your eyes catching sight of a small and hidden camera in a crevice, the camera facing you. You narrowed your eyes at it before looking back to the house and knocking again. When you were once again met with only silence, you rolled your eyes, stepping up to the camera. You hoped this thing had a mic on it.

“Hey, uh,” you pause, not knowing what to say. Improv is obviously not exactly your forte. “I spoke with you over the weird communication thing with Tony. I know this is probably really weird and kind of imposing, but I really cannot have this kid let down. I am totally willing to let you kill me if it means this kid gets everything. Oh, and no Avengers are with me. Most of them didn’t seem all too happy with me anyways.” You glance back at the door, waiting a few moments for a response. You’re just about to give up when you hear a crackling sound.

“Ah, so this is the brave little girl who spoke to me on the phone. How delightful to see you for once,” you hear his smooth voice even over the crackling of an intercom and you think you’re about to pee yourself. You swallow your nerves.

“Listen, buddy, don’t think you’re slick by escaping me on the phone call earlier. I really, really just need a moment to speak with you. It won’t take long unless you’re down to let me camp out on your porch,” you call out and you sense a hesitation in his response.

“My, my, how mouthy you are. That mouth is in desperate need for discipline.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice and your jaw drops. Did he really just insinuate that? You stand in shock, not able to process what he just said.

“I beg your pardon?” you ask incredulously.

“Oh, dear. You have much to learn,” he almost mocks and your stomach churns at the sound of his voice. You’re just about to lay one on his camera when a small chime rips your focus back to the door where it’s now swinging wide open.

You give one last look to the camera before stepping through the threshold, squinting your eyes in the darkness to make out details of the house. Two winding staircases meet at a second floor, a small table with a white orchid poised between the two of them. Further back you can see a sitting area, but for now, it mainly rests obscured from creeping eyes by darkness. You’re just about to start exploring for yourself whenever you hear footsteps approaching from above.

You glance up to find the Loki Laufeyson carelessly strutting down the stairs.

“You’re much more enticing when you’re not dripping on my floors like a wet dog,” Loki bites and you look down to see that you have indeed made a puddle around yourself and a small trail of water from the door. Your nerves hit you like a brick and suddenly you feel like fainting.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Such a submissive thing. Shielding when one hint of criticism is thrown your way,” Loki taunts and your eyes narrow at the villain, forgetting that he could very well kill you right now.

“No, I just happen to have respect for housing and nice floors,” you snap and surprisingly, Loki’s smirk is soon replaced by what seems to be an amused smile before it quickly fades.

“Are you here to plead to me about your insufferable cause?” Loki asks, making his tone very dramatically exasperated and you roll your eyes at the notion. You freeze, realizing you just rolled your eyes at a notorious criminal.

Jesus Christ, I’m such an idiot. I’m going to die. Yep. It’s been awful, bye world, you think. You manage to find your voice through all of your anxiety.

“Yes, and by the way, it’s hardly insufferable for you. I’ve lost my dignity multiple times today. I was almost detained by a woman named Helda; can you imagine how humiliating that would have been?” you babble, not noticing the way Loki seems to be scrutinizing you until you stop. You wish you were smaller. Loki’s facial details were hidden to you by the shadow that lurked over him, making all that you could see of him a lean and muscular body.

“I do believe you have no clue what this entails in terms of my appearance,” Loki patronizes, and you press your lips together, awaiting his next words. “First, the hospital will go under complete lockdown. Then, the police will arrive, and Odin knows that when that happens, the SWAT team arrives. Then your precious friends. I’m not particularly fond of searching for chaos.” You crinkle your nose in confusion.

“Aren’t you the God of Chaos?” Loki sighs deeply before rolling his eyes.

“While I do like chaos, chaos usually finds me, not the other way around,” Loki concludes, and you look away. Weirdo.

“Alrighty, bud. Aren’t you the most powerful guy in New York? Like isn’t that enough to go to the hospital? I’ll make sure no law enforcement reaches you, but I can’t promise for the Avengers,” you sassed. You realized a second too late that it’s probably not good to feed into his ego, but he only gave a small smirk.

“I may consider this pathetic deal of yours, but I need something in return,” he says and raises an eyebrow. Your face distorts in disgust.

“Uh, if you’re into sex stuff, I’m probably the last person you should ask-”

“What? No. You’re not my taste,” Loki says, startled, scanning your figure with his eyes and you become hyper-aware of the dampness of your clothes once again. Your face flushes a bright red and you attempt to cough the awkwardness away.

“I guess you get attention out of it.”

“I get attention all the time,” Loki deadpans and you flush even redder – if possible.

“It’s good attention. Someone who genuinely thinks you’re super cool,” you try to remember the marketing class you took in college, attempting to throw random rhetoric strategies in your words.

“I do hope you realize I get far enough of good attention too,” Loki lowers his voice, smiling suggestively at you, and you have to restrain yourself from gagging.

“Fine, what do you want?” you ask, exasperated. For a moment, Loki seems caught off-guard, hesitating in the slightest before his lips curl into a smile that eerily resembles a sneer. Sheesh. Pretty teeth, though.

“For you to work for me.”

“No,” you say quickly, your facial expression only showing bewilderment and disgust.

“Ah, that’s too bad,” he hums. “You could have gotten your precious boy a visit.” You almost waiver at his bargaining, but you bite back.

“You’re scared? And that’s why you’re escaping this?” you ask, making sure your eyebrows were raised for an extra effect.

“No-”

“You must be. And let me tell you,” you take a threatening step forwards, the god following you with his eyes, “I sure as hell know how to make this a lot scarier. So, I suggest that you concede to me and we be done with it.” By the end of your little escapade, you feel your hands trembling, hoping that Loki doesn’t notice. But Loki only cracks a smile.

“My, my, you are far fiercer than I initially believed. You have quite a bit of fire in you, little one,” Loki says, his eyes sweeping over you once again as you huff, attempting to stand taller.

Why am I even trying? This dude could probably kill me with his eyes. Whatever. Girl power, am I right? Black Widow would be proud.

“I thought you already had shitty morals, but this is even lower. He’s a child for god’s sake. Can you extend any sort of kindness? At all?” you almost plead, realizing that pleading like this was most likely going to be the best way to convince him. Let him know he had the upper hand.

“Kindness is not in my nature.”

“But mischief is, and I promise you, this will take a lot of mischief,” you say, watching as his eyebrows draw together to study you. You attempt to smile, but you’re sure your lips just pull into an uncomfortable, thin line.

“Why do you care so much?” Loki asks and you stand for a moment, unsure of what to say. Why did you care so much? Why did you even come here, in the face of one of the most dangerous criminals, to plead with him for a kid? You didn’t know, so you let your mouth run away from you, hoping that will be the best way to a truth.

“I don’t have a lot of time in my life like you do, and I guess it’s human need to leave an impression. Plus I love the kid; he’s super funny,” you conclude, your shoulders slightly relaxing from some unknown tension. Loki hums.

“Human nature is a repulsive and disgusting thing. You mere mortals usually end up tearing yourselves apart,” Loki decides to say before abruptly turning back into his monstrosity of a house.

You stand in shock at first before he turns around, waving you forward. You stumble to keep up with his steps, his long legs taking impossibly long strides. Damn him and his long legs.

“However, although you are quite persistent and annoying, you are far more intriguing than most mortals I have met,” Loki speaks over his shoulder, and you glare at his back, wishing you could pierce holes through him with laser eyes. Screw being a villain, he was an annoying ass. You huff, following him through winding hallways, a thought popping into your head.

What if he’s leading me to my death? What if he’s trying to kill me? Oh, god. I guess I deserve it.

You almost sigh in relief when he leads you to an open and covered balcony. You study him, careful to make sure the psychopath isn’t looking.

He’s attractive. Dammit! You are not supposed to find him attractive! He’s a villain! He could kill you in an instant.

You feel the ever-constant, ironic want of death rise in your stomach, wishing to erase those thoughts from your memory. You glanced at yourself, horrified that you even began to think any such thoughts of the villain. It’s over for you if you find out you’re somehow attracted to criminals and psychopaths.

Do they have standards? you wonder.

You’re caught red-handed as you look back up to the villain, who’s watching you with a bewildered look.

Oh great, he probably thinks I’m a lunatic now. I guess they do have standards.

“Why did you take us out here?” you ask, just as the cold begins to seep into your clothes, giving you a bitter reminder of what your day had entailed. Loki glances back to the door – which he’s thankfully left open (for needs of escape, of course) – and reverts his gaze back to you as if thinking that he couldn’t trust you. Haha, buddy. Very funny. You’re the villain here, Mr. Bad Guy.

“There are prying eyes everywhere, fierce one. In this storm, no one can hear us,” Loki says, this time his tone isn’t biting or sarcastic as usual. He’s serious and for some reason, that makes your stomach feel very unsettled.

You turn to survey the balcony. It was only what you could call enormous. There were occasional sitting areas and plants, leaves blowing in the wind. There was a firepit across the balcony and you wished you could somehow cuddle up next to a raging fire and fall asleep, warm and dry. You still shivered.

“Are you going to kill me?” you asked, apprehensively. You swear you almost felt faint when he chuckled.

“No, mortal, I have no needs or intentions to do so. You are not a threat to me, and nor am I to you,” Loki said, an amused smile on his lips. You almost felt comfort in his words. Almost.

“You’re the God of Lies; how can I trust you?” you ask, biting your lip again. He only cracks a bigger smile.

“Although I am the God of Lies, I don’t lie when I need to. What motivations do I have to kill you?” he asks, arching a teasing brow. Wow, his brows are nice. Ugh. This is so bad.

You think for a moment, trying to come up with some plausible reason that the bad guy in front of you would kill you. Your eyes narrow as you pick out a few reasons.

“I’m annoying you, plus, you get off on watching people die,” you state, pointing a finger at his chest before turning a dark shade of red and retracting your finger. Loki only quirks a brow, as if asking ‘Is that the best you can do?’.

“I happen to not find satisfaction in death. If I need remind you, I am the God of Chaos. I get off on chaos,” he says, and you furrow your brows. Uh-huh, sure buddy.

“Chaos makes people die, so, it’s basically the same thing,” you point out, thinking you have him in a corner, but he only laughs.

“Darling, we could debate all day about this, but unfortunately it is quite late, and I do want a good night’s sleep,” Loki responds, and you shiver at the nickname.

“I’m not your ‘Darling’,” you drawl, glaring at the God, but he pretends to not notice as he takes a seat on a nearby couch. You stiffly follow him, plopping into the seat across from him. Surprisingly, the seat cushions are warm and dry, contrary to the storm that seems to be picking up again. You curl into them.

“So, do tell, who is this boy?” Loki asks and you respond, filling him in on Danny – the one, who for some reason, loves Loki. Loki only seems to become more and more intrigued by each word, and soon it feels like he’s staring through your soul. You shift, unsettled by his stare.

By the end of your little biography of Danny and occasional, thrown in rhetoric devices, you blush, realizing you were taking quite a long time to explain it all. However, Loki doesn’t seem to mind as he leans back against the couch, his finger absentmindedly rubbing his chin in thought. He still studies you, yet this time is less intense, and for that, you’re relieved.

“Do you trust me?” he asks out of the blue, and you stare at him as if he lost a head.

“Of course not,” you respond, watching his mouth pick up the signature smirk that’s starting to annoy you.

“Clever girl, now, about the boy. Where is he located? We must plan this soon, for time is of the essence of you pathetic mortals.”

—

taglist:  @quenilla @darkprincessloki92

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #246

(song lyrics here idc)

What is the most you’ve ever eaten in one sitting? I don't know. Probably too many slices of pizza back when I could kill pizza if I was hungry enough. How often do you skip breakfast? Rarely. What’s the longest you’ve gone without leaving the house? A couple+ weeks, probably. Where are you going the next time you go out? School. What kinds of things are likely to make you cry? Reunions of like any type, seeing things (esp. animals) in pain, if my feelings are deeply hurt, deaths... stuff like that. Really nothing unusual. What are some things that make others cry that don’t make you cry at all? Hm. I dunno. I'm sure there's something, but I'm unsure. If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things? I don't smoke, and I'll ever only have like a drink or two on some holidays or for my birthday. What website do you spend the most time on and why? YouTube because it essentially replaces television for me. What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you? Oh my god don't ask me this. What is one belief you used to have, but no longer do? In what ways are you influenced by the opinions of others, if ever? The one I disdain the most was being homophobic up to my late teenage years. I wanna curb stomp that ignorant fucking kid. I wouldn't say I'm influenced by other's opinions on things very much. What was the last thing to make you feel good about yourself? Drinking water lmao. How would you describe your overall (or preferred) personal aesthetic? My friend recently described me as a "gothic lolita" and y'know he's onta something. What kinds of small judgments are you likely to make about others? *Small* judgments? Uhhhh... God why am I blanking on surveys so much lately. What was the last thing you did mostly because society expected you to? Shower, 'cuz I seriously wasn't feeling it but needed to anyway. When was the last time you felt out of place? I had to babysit my nephew on my own early last month and I felt like I was in a different universe. I felt so, so unfit in the position and just all-around uncomfortable. I love that boy to death but babysitting is noooooot my thing. Do you believe in aliens, spirits, or angels of any sort? Yeah. Well, not "angels" by true definition, no. In what ways are you superstitious? I'm not. Where was the last place you went walking and how far? Would you rather exercise alone or with other people? Like, for fun? Not since I was at Sara's. I DO NOT like exercising in front of other people at all. What kinds of nail polish colors do you prefer to wear? How about makeup? Black is the entirely superior makeup color. How would you describe your own relationship with makeup? It's just for fun for me when I actually feel like it, and even that's rare. I usually only put makeup on for some pictures. Who has been in your life the longest amount of time? What about the shortest? My mom the longest, and my school teachers the shortest, I guess? Who was the last person to leave your life? How about return to it? My fucking therapist that deserves my fist through her face. Return, uhhhh yeah I dunno. It might be Sara, and that was yearsss ago. When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? Wildernesses, especially with mountains, rivers, waterfalls... that kind of stuff. Do you think humans colonizing Mars is a good idea? Would you go, if you could? No. Focus on the goddamn planet we're already on. If it was a life or death situation, I'd go, but otherwise, I'm staying here and at least trying to patch it up. What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it? Oh, many miles, I'm sure. I used to walk for literally hours out in my yard at night with my iPod. That was so common for me. Funny how now I'm recovering from muscle atrophy in my legs. Do you have a chore/housecleaning routine or anything like that? A "routine," no. How organized would you say your living space is? The house is currently a travesty. What is something important that’s often on your mind lately? Success in school. Do you find it easier to forgive yourself or others? Others. Have you ever had to call 911? For who/what reason? Yes; Mom thought she might've been having a heart attack. Thank fuck she wasn't. Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it? Oh yeah. It's like a regular for me now that I'm big time trying to lose weight. I like the apple cinnamon one. What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic? Thinking about that walking question. How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything? The most non-Pagan belief I have is being void of this one. No. When was the last time you were afraid to tell someone something? Heh, speaking of being (mostly, ig) Neo-Pagan. Classmate and I were doing an assignment getting to know each other and she asked my religion. She was a serious Christian and was clearly SO uncomfortable when I awkwardly answered lmao. When was the last time something didn’t go the way you expected it would? My disability case hearing just a week back. I expected to be way, way more terrified, shaking even, and was prepared for an intimidating judge. Just in general I was afraid of it being "court-like" and with a lot of people, but it was okay. I think having my attorney there was crucial to my (relative) calmness, though, because I was comfortable with and liked him. What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? Most difficult that I ever tried, Dark Souls. Quit that waaaay early. Hardest that I've beaten, I honestly think The Legend of Spyro: The Eternal Night. Don't even @ me w/o trying it yourself 'cuz that game was so fucking hard to where I rage-quit for years until beating it. I did play it a second time for fun, though. Still hard. Most involved, oh, easily World of Warcraft. Years of effort put into too many characters la;ksdjfawoei Have you ever taken lessons for anything? Yeah; dance for a very long time as well as guitar. What’s your favorite band’s name? Well Ozzy goes solo. Btw I nearly died when I heard the Parkinson's news wtf life how dare why him- Who is your last sent text to? My mom. What’s your favorite flavor of Gatorade? I do noooot like Gatorade. What does your bikini look like? Oh hunny I'm barely comfortable in a one-piece. Do you drink the milk after you finish cereal or just leave it in the bowl? I can almost never drink it. The taste is just changed and is usually gross. Have you ever worn glitter eyeliner? No, yikes. Imagine that getting in your eye. Has anyone ever called you a hippie? I don't think so. Did you have any unread texts this morning? No. Have you ever been involved in strength training? No. Who is the last person you kissed? Sara. Have you ever been to a pottery painting store? No. Are bonfires common with you and your friends? Not at all. I don't think I've ever done that with friends. If you’re really quiet, what is probably the reason? I'm thinking about something intently. What does your boyfriend/girlfriend call you? N/A How much does the last person you kissed mean to you? A whole lot. Do you use lotion? If my skin is particularly dry. Have you ever used a sewing machine? No. Is hairspray a staple in your morning routine? I've never regularly used it. Do you believe in teenage love? Fuck yes I do, I can promise you that. When is your favorite TV show on regularly? It's discontinued. Who is your favorite person to waste time with? Sara. What has been the most significant thing to happen to you this year? Well, it's the first day of February, so I'll imagine you're asking about the past year, in which case I went back to school. What kind of kid were you when you were seven? Happy, weird, kinda hyper, outgoing and goofy. Do you always eat those mints you get at some restaurants? Yeah, if they're not the semi-soft ones that kinda melt in your mouth. Ew. Is there a subject you know so much about that you’d be able to teach it? Sure, but nothing like seriously important. Do you believe that being ‘cultured’ is important? Why or why not? I mean, probably if you travel. It's definitely wise to try to act at least semi-"appropriately" in another country. Where did you purchase the computer you’re using right now? Best Buy or Office Depot, idr. Do you think it’s fair to compare Family Guy to The Simpsons? I don't care? Will you miss CDs if they end up going obsolete? Why or why not? Not really, I just don't care. If you could relive one hour of your life so far, what would you choose? I don't have a clue. Do you think animals have a sense of humor? Probably. Animals can definitely act silly. Are you proud of your hometown, or do you try to distance yourself from it? That place is shit. Has your idea of the perfect romantic partner changed with age? Oh yeah, to a degree at least. I had such a fairy-tale ideology on love back then. How many cars have you ever owned? Myself, zero. Can you do math in your head well? I almost can't at all. What’s your favorite flavor of potato chip? Oh man, that's hard. Maybe salt and vinegar. Do you ever read the weather forecast? I mean I'll check the app on my phone occasionally. Do amusement park rides make you sick? Thus far in my life, no, but I'm too afraid to try some out of fear of that. Who is your favorite Star Wars character? Don't even like SW. What kind of cheese do you put on your sandwiches? American. What radio station do you listen to the most? None. Who was the last person to give you a gift? A family friend for Christmas. How old were you when you got your driver’s license? I'm about to be 24 and still don't have it. What was the first thing you ever learned how to cook? Scrambled eggs. Did you ever collect beanie babies? Maybe? I know I had one big one (me and my sisters had a matching set of different colors; mine was pink, what a shocker), but idk if I actually collected them. When was the last time you got a haircut? Early last month. Have you ever been to a bachelor/bachelorette party? No. How many people can you say you TRULY love? Romantically? Two. Platonically, a whole lot. Where are you most ticklish on your body? My feet jfc. Have you ever bailed anyone out of jail? Nope. What’s the last board game you played? Shit, what's it called. Something with my nephew. It's the one with the popping dice in the middle and four different colors to move around the board. "Sorry!" or something? Have you ever given someone a fake phone number? Might've when stupid kid me made prank calls. Do you have any bumper stickers on your car? No. Do you leave good tips when you eat out at restaurants? I've never been the one paying. Do you still own any VHS tapes? I'm sure Mom has home videos stored somewhere. If there was a real Jurassic Park, would you visit it? Oh fuck yeah 'cuz I'm dumb and love dinos. Have you ever gone golfing? Not legit golfing. Do you know any sign language? No. How many friends do you have that are married? Close friends, like people I still regularly talk to, none. Do you still have your wisdom teeth? Yes. Did you have a swing set in your yard when you were a child? Yes. Do you eat your mac & cheese with a fork or a spoon? I don't really care so I haven't noticed which I usually use. Where did you have your first kiss? His bed. When you were a kid, were you ever afraid of cooties? Lol no. Do you ever go Christmas caroling in December? No, I could never omg. Which overrated tattoo are you sick of seeing? I don’t care. Get what you want. What was the last thing you taught a younger kid? Apparently to say "aw shucks" at everything lmao. Are the clocks in your house mostly digital or analog? Digital. We have on analog in the living room. How long have you had your television(s)? God, years. A loooong time, but it's a fine TV. Do you like watching movies made with CGI or do you prefer hand-drawn ones? I tend to enjoy CGI more. I like realism in what I watch. Where did your parents buy their car(s)? Dad, idk. Mom got hers for free; a dance friend ran into a deer, so the front bumper got fucked up, and she wanted a new vehicle. Mom took it because shit, it was drivable, and she DIY fixed up the bumper to make sure it stays in place. Literally with zip ties and duct tape lmfao but HEY it WORKS. Do you know why your grandparents chose your mother’s name? No. Do you think you’d do well at teaching the English language to a foreigner? I think I'd be at least decent. What is a store you like that is exclusive to your country? Idk what's only exclusive to the country. If you attend school, what time do you usually get home after? Like, 4:35 or so. Mom finishes her field work at 4, and afterwards we go home. Have you written a resume before, either for yourself or someone else? Yes. What is your favorite thing about snow? IT'S PRETTY. What do you usually do when you have trouble sleeping? Try to go back to sleep at first, and if I really can't, I get back up on the laptop for a while. Are you satisfied with your social life (or lack thereof)? NONONONONONONONO. What TV show do you just assume you wouldn’t like? 13 Reasons Why. Do your friends have more money than you? lol duh I make none. Who always has the power to make you feel intimidated? Pretty much men as a whole...

[ryqoshay]

Heavenly Life: Transfer

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Words: ~1.8k Rating: K AU: Angelic Time Frame: ??? Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: By the gods, it’s been too long...

“What the hell, Mari?” Yoshiko griped, storming into the captain’s office.

“Language.” Mari stated, not looking up from her work.

“Whatever.” The blue-haired girl growled.

“Good to see you back to your normal self, by the way.”

“Thanks…?” Yoshiko felt herself lose some of her initial momentum. “Wait, no, that’s not the point! You want to repay me by setting me up with her? You can’t be serious!”

“Would you prefer I say ‘<It’s joke!>’?” The blonde finally looked up as she used an ancient language with intentionally incorrect grammar that she’d often repeated.

“Ughn…” Yoshiko’s shoulders slumped. “… No…” She shook her head. “No, I really wouldn’t.” Had it really reached a point that Mari was aware of the effects of that overused phrase of hers and had found a new way to annoy with it?

“So, what’s the problem, do you not like her?”

“That’s not what I said!” Yoshiko protested, waving her arms frantically. “But we’ve already met, so you wouldn’t be setting me up.”

“Oh? Are you dating already?”

“D-dating? What? No!”

“Do you not want to date her?”

“I… I…” Yoshiko could feel her face flush. “Well, yeah, sure I suppose there’s a possibility I might kinda sorta want to maybe go out with her.” She fumbled through admitting. She knew it was foolish to flatly deny it because Mari could read her like a book. “She’s amazing. A bit naïve. But beautiful. And…” She sighed. “But I’d only want to if she would be alright with someone like me.”

“I believe she might be more interested than you realize.”

“Really?” Yoshiko hated how much hope seeped into her voice.

“Let’s just say she has some… unexpected tastes.” Despite her teasing tone, Mari’s smile seemed genuine. “I’ll let you in on a few, but don’t tell her that you know. She seems to be under the impression that they’re still a secret.”

The blue-haired girl tilted her head in curiosity.

“My point is that I’m going to help you get closer to her.” The blonde explained. “How far you decide to progress will be up to the two of you. But from what I know, you both have your shares of insecurities when it comes to socializing, particularly in the friendship and romance departments. So, I intend to give advice and help where I can.”

“You’re not just doing this as a way to tease me, are you?” Yoshiko couldn’t help some lingering suspicion despite her growing anticipation.

Mari’s grin grew. “Oh, you’ll never be completely free of my teasing, Yoshiko-chan.”

“Yohane.”

“Believe it or not, I consider you to be an important friend and she now serves under me.” Mari explained. “So I want you two to be happy, be it as friends, as girlfriends, or whatever.”

“…” Yoshiko found herself unsure as to what she should say. While she couldn’t really deny that she also considered Mari a friend, putting it into words was a more difficult task than slaying hundreds of demons.

“Also, I know you were awake when I told her that you needed more friends like her. And you heard all that other stuff as well.”

The blue-haired girl nodded her affirmation.

“I wasn’t kidding, you know.”

The two angels stared at one another for a few moments.

“T… Thank you.” Yoshiko finally managed to break the silence.

Mari smiled in response. “Oh, and since you’re already here, I don’t have to send someone else to find you and deliver the news.”

“News?”

“I’m being transferred to Reusbasium.”

“Reusbasium?”  Yoshiko searched her knowledge of angelic territory but drew a blank.

“A town out near the border.” Mari explained. “It’s small, quaint, lovely and quite peaceful.”

Peaceful? Yoshiko furrowed her brow. That certainly wouldn’t describe anywhere near the border with demon territory, so that left fey. “So why the heck are you, of all people, being transferred there?”

“Recent reports have been coming in suggesting the demons are attempting to sway the fey to their side. As you know, this absolutely cannot happen.”

“Of course.”

“As such, I am being sent to monitor the situation, and if necessary, propose a counteroffer to have them join us. Or remain neutral, that would be an acceptable outcome as well. And the one I would personally prefer; they don’t need to be dragged into our eternal war.”

“It probably wouldn’t be eternal for much longer after they chose a side.” Yoshiko mused aloud.

“Exactly. And at a terrible cost to them. I’d rather they continue to stay out of it, for their own sake.”

“But again, why you?”

“There is concern that should the demons fail in negotiations, they may quietly annex the sparsely populated borderlands and use it as a staging point for an invasion.”

“And you could decimate any reasonable reconnaissance force before they become too powerful?”

“Something like that.”

“Hrm…” Yoshiko thought for a moment. While the explanation provided made sense at face value, she was all but certain there were details being left out. Then again, that was par for the course when it came to the likes of the eccentric captain. Thus, instead of prying for said details, she asked, “So why tell me all of this?”

“Because I’m not going alone.”

“Of course not. But I don’t serve under your command…”

“But Rikocchi does.”

Yohsiko blinked.

“I have asked her to join the select few I will be bringing with me to Reusbasium. And she agreed.” Mari set her elbows on her desk and folded her hands under her chin. “I did not order her, but I believe she likes the idea of a peacekeeping assignment as opposed to city defense.”

“Yeah… That probably would suit her better…” Yoshiko agreed. “But if there is concern of an invasion, how would that be any different than here?”

“Because our intent would be to dissuade such tactics in the first place.”

“I suppose…”

“Anyway, I obviously cannot order you to do anything, but if you wish to continue getting closer to Ricocchi…”

“… I’ll… go pack my things…”

“Good to hear.” Mari smiled. “Would you like to tell her yourself, or should I?”

“I’ll tell her myself, thanks.”

“<Fantastic.>”

Then, without another word, Yoshiko turned on her heel and made her departure.

“Yocchan?” A voice said from the hall.

“R-Riri?!” Yoshiko spun toward the redhead behind her.

Holy hell, that dress was adorable. It was just a simple white dress, standard angelic fare, with pink flowers as accents, but it suited the healer far better than any armor in the realm. And Yoshiko couldn’t take her eyes off her.

“I…” Yoshiko’s voice cracked, forcing her to pause and clear her throat. Geez, was this going to happen every time they met? “I was just looking for you.”

“Well, you found me.” Riko smiled. “And I was actually looking for you as well.”

Riri was looking for me? Why does that make me so happy? Yoshiko found herself wondering. Well, I know why it makes me happy, but why to such an extent? However, when the redhead’s smile turned wistful, she became worried instead.

“I’m sorry, Yocchan.” Riko’s gaze swung downward. “I know we just met and I made a promise to help you, but…”

“You’re being transferred again.” Yoshiko finished when the other girl trailed off.

“I volunteered.”

“I know.”

Riko looked up. “You do?”

“Mari just told me. But…”

“Would you come with us?” Riko suddenly asked. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Yoshiko laughed. “I was just going to say that yes, I will be joining you in Reusbasium.”

“That’s wonderful.” Riko’s natural smile returned. “I can introduce you to my friends.”

“In Reusbasium?”

Riko shook her head. “No, across the border.”

“You have friends among the fey?”

“Uh huh.” Riko nodded. “And I haven’t seen them in ages. In fact, I accepted the transfer here because it got me that much closer, but now I’ll be stationed right there on the border.”

“Hrm…”

“You don’t like fey?”

“No, that’s not it.” Yoshiko shook her head. “I guess I always thought they weren’t that fond of us, something about angels being too uppity or whatever. I mean, they don’t hate us; they aren’t our enemies like the demons.” Even though… She wondered if she should finish that thought.

“I think you’ll find them more accepting than you seem to believe.”

“Maybe…”

“Besides, you’re not exactly the stereotypical uppity angel.”

That was certainly true, so Yoshiko bobbed her head back and forth in amused agreement.

“So…” Riko furrowed her brow as a thought occurred to her. “If you weren’t planning on spending time in fey territory, what were you planning to do in Reusbasium?”

Yoshiko shrugged. “Besides hang out with you and be on the lookout for demons to fight?”

Riko laughed lightly. “Yes, besides that.”

“I’ve been fine with just Phobetor up until now, so…”

“You should visit Campi, on the other side of the border.”

“Maybe…”

“It’s where I will be meeting my friends.”

“Hrm…”

“They have an amazing hot spring.”

Yoshiko raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t think I won’t drag you there.”

“Are you saying I need a bath?”

“No, that’s…” The other girl’s laugher cut her off.

“I’m sorry, I’ll come with you to Campi.” Yoshiko said, still chuckling “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a hot spring. Think they’d allow Phobetor in?”

“I thought cats hated water?”

“He’s about as normal a cat as I am a normal angel. I think he’d love it.”

“So,” a voice suddenly said from nearby “are you going to stand here flirting all day or are you going to get ready for travel?”

“F-flirting…?” Yoshiko sputtered, spinning to spy Mari standing in the open doorway of her office, wearing a sly grin.

“I’ve secured a transport for the two of you and they’ll be ready to go by noon.”

“We’re not going with you?” Riko asked, her cheeks only starting to lose the redness that had blossomed a moment ago.

“Well, you can, Rikocchi.” The blonde pointed out. “But that would leave…”

“I see.” The redhead nodded. “Understood.”

“I can be ready by then.” The blue-haired girl offered.

“Good, then you’ll be meeting them at the gate at that time.”

“Do you need any help packing, Yocchan?” Riko turned her attention to the other girl in the hall.

“I’ll be good, thanks.” Yoshiko replied. “There isn’t much.”

“So, see you at the gate at noon?”

“Alright, see you then.”

Just before departing, Yoshiko was able to steal one last glance at Riko’s smile. On her way to her soon-to-be-former home, she found herself thinking about the redhead. She couldn’t help recalling that Riko hadn’t denied the possibility that they had been flirting, even if Mari had only been teasing. And she had just chosen to forgo traveling with the rest of the task force in favor of going with Yoshiko. Perhaps… maybe… just maybe, Mari was on to something with her offer. And maybe, just maybe, Yoshiko might think about taking her up on it.

Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post