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larkawolfgirl · 2 years

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Love Letters (Promlunoct)

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis CaelumNoctis Lucis Caelum/Lunafreya Nox FleuretPrompto Argentum/Lunafreya Nox FleuretPrompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Lunafreya Nox Fleuret Characters: Prompto ArgentumNoctis Lucis CaelumLunafreya Nox FleuretIgnis ScientiaGladiolus Amicitia

Summary: Prompto didn't mean to read Noct's private journal with Lady Lunafreya but he can't unread what's already been read or unlearn what's been learned. He always knew that Noct would marry Lunafreya but he always thought it wouldn't mean anything. Otherwise, why was he bothering to date him?

Read on ao3

They are into their fifth gaming round when Noctis’ phone starts buzzing. He groans and pauses the game to look at the caller ID. “Damn, it’s Specs. I’ve gotta take this.”

Prompto shrugs and puts his controller down. “No big, dude.”

“Hello?” he says into the phone and goes into the kitchen so that his side of the conversation is not as easy to hear.

Prompto pulls out his own phone to pass the time. He’s just finished checking his Instagram when Noctis comes back to the couch and gives him a quick peck on the lips.

“Hey, I gotta go, but I’ll hurry back, okay?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

Noctis gives him an apologetic smile before taking off.

Prompto switches the game to single-player mode and plays a few rounds. Then he turns the game off and watches an episode of some crime drama. It’s almost been two hours, and he’s getting restless. This isn’t the first time Prompto has been left alone is Noctis’ apartment. He’s poked around in boredom before, and Noctis never minded, so he decides to do so again. It isn’t like he snoops in his closet or under the bed. He just walks around the apartment taking note of everything in plain sight. He looks through all the games and movies in his collection, most of which he already has memorized, then moves to the bookshelf. Most of the books are about governance and public speech, put there by Ignis, with the occasional fantasy or sci-fi novel, but one book is wider than the rest and sitting horizontally atop a row. There isn’t any title on the binding, so he pulls it off the shelf to look at the cover, which is just red with a white symbol. Curiosity peaked, he flips it open. With shaky hands, he flips through the pages just to make sure it really is what he thinks it is. He’s so caught up in the book--the journal--he doesn’t notice the front door open.

“Oh, you found it,” Noctis says.

Despite the dispassionate response, Prompto jolts and drops the journal as if doing so will hide the evidence of his snooping. Noctis makes a displeased sound and lifts it off the ground.

Prompto diverts his eyes back to the floor at the careful way he holds it. “Sorry,” he mutters, both in reference to dropping the journal as well as prying in the first place. He wants to ask him about the contents, but Noctis just shrugs at him looking tired. He never even said why he had to leave so suddenly, and Prompto wonders if his demeanor means it was something serious. Now isn’t the time to push his doubts onto him when he was the one that brought them on himself.

“You still want to play?” Noctis asks, but Prompto shakes his head.

“Dude, you look ready to pass out. Let’s just head to bed. We can play more in the morning.” Noctis smiles and they let that be the end of the discussion.

Neither of them mention the journal again until Prompto catches Noctis writing in it at the kitchen table when he comes out of the bathroom about a week later. There’s a soft smile on his face and Prompto’s chest tightens. It’s been common knowledge for a while now that Noctis is promised to Lady Lunafreya, but Prompto always assumed it was nothing but a political decision since Noctis was the one to ask him out. He had never felt jealous or insecure about their relationship until seeing the contents of that journal. Noctis is always open about his affection toward him, but after glimpsing equally open exchanges between him and his wife-to-be, he can't hold back the doubts he used to be able to retain. Not all of Noctis’ sentiments can be true.

He must be staring too hard because Noctis senses him watching and looks up. “Oh, hi.” That same dispassionate tone, but he hunches over slightly in an attempt to hide the journal from view.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Prompto asks quietly, figuring there is no reason to beat around the bush any longer.

Noctis sighs. “Prom…”

“I don’t understand. Are you just toying with me?”

“What?” He stands and comes over to him. He takes hold of his arms, expression pained. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re obviously in love with Lady Lunafreya.”

“Prompto,” he says more serious than Prompto’s ever heard his name before, “I love you. I really do. I know I should have told you and it isn’t fair, but I do love her too. I was already in love with her, but then I met you and couldn’t help it. I wanted you too much not to be with you.”

When he put it that way, Prompto should feel happy, being the “other man.” What right did he have feeling jealous when Noctis liked him enough to cheat on her? Besides, he had Noctis, at least for now, in a way she never had. That still didn't make this right, though. Noct hadn't even let him know he had real feelings for her, let alone such strong ones by the sound of it. Prompto had never felt that they were cheating. It wasn't a good feeling at all. It was guilt and a heavy rock in his stomach. “You should have been honest. For all our sakes.”

“I know, and I wanted to, but I was afraid of losing you, and Luna said--”

“Wait, you told her about me?” The rock is now ten times harder, pressing against his bladder.

“Yeah--”

“You told her but not me?”

“Prom, you probably don’t believe me, but I fell for you hard. I figured if I had to lose one of you, I’d rather it be her. And I knew her well enough to know she would understand.”

“But you didn’t think I would?”

“Do you?”

Well, yeah, he understood. But did he think what he was doing was okay? He isn’t sure. His hand grips over his wristband. A relationship should be based on honesty, but wasn't Prompto just as much a liar? He remembers Noctis’ expression as he transformed the feelings in his heart into words on paper and knows he just wants Noctis to be happy more than anything else. “Yeah, I do. But what I don’t understand is what you plan on doing about this.”

“I’m gonna marry Luna. That’s always been the plan. You’ll come along. I’ll make you my private guard or something.”

“And we’ll just pass you back and forth, huh?” There is a hint of bitterness in his voice. Noctis frowns and he immediately regrets the words.

“I know that’s not ideal or fair, but Luna’s willing to try if you are. I was kinda hoping maybe you could try to get to know each other. You’ve already seen the journal, so…” He holds the journal out hesitantly as if he is afraid Prompto might knock it onto the ground on purpose.

Something pitters in his chest from the fact he is willing to trust him so openly. It means even more given the secrecy up to this point. Their fingers brush when he takes it and warmth spreads there to his chest. The least he can do is try. “Yeah, okay.”

The inclination to read everything in the journal is difficult to resist, but he can't bring himself to breach Lady Lunafreya's privacy like that. So he does the logical thing and writes her a letter asking her permission. It's nerve-wracking and he has the mind to write the letter out first on looseleaf paper so she can't see how many times he rethinks his words. He scratches out words more times than he can count, rewrites the whole thing three times, and deals with Noct's teasing twice as many times before he's confident enough to send the journal back.

Dear Lady Lunafreya,

I learned about Noctis' feelings for you and his intention to keep us both in his life for the future. He says you already know and are open to trying to make this work. I would really like to get to know you better, if you don't mind. To be honest, ever since you to wrote me all those years ago, I’ve wanted to know you. Noct gave me the journal and said I could read it since that's probably the best way to get to know the real you, but I don’t feel right doing that before asking you first. It’s not just snooping into your privacy but your feelings for Noct. I actually accidentally read bits and pieces before I realized exactly what this journal was, so I know it’s pretty personal. So, I totally get if you don’t want me to read it. Just say the word and we can start here, you know, asking each other what our favorite colors are and stuff. It’s cool.

Sincerely,

Prompto

Even after the thought he put into the letter, his hands still shake when he passes the journal off to Umbra and his heart hammers with a mixture of anticipation and worry as he waits for the response. Days go by, and his anxiety must show because Noctis claps him on the back.

“Chill, dude.”

“But, it’s been days. She’s probably upset. Of course she doesn’t want me to read stuff she wrote to you.”

“It always takes at least a few days before I get a response. It’s normal. Umbra can travel back and forth, but not instantaneously, and the empire keeps her pretty busy. She’s gotta find time to read and write her response. And just think how long it took you to write yours.”

Oh yeah. Prompto had thought on that for about a week. “Yeah, makes sense.” He breathes a little easier but knows he won’t relax until he gets a reply.

It comes three days later.

Dear Prompto,

I am so glad to finally be able to talk with you. I still remember fondly what you did for Pryna years ago and am overjoyed that you took my advice to befriend Noct. He has been so much happier since you entered his life, and I for knowing it. You may not believe this, but I have been asking Noct for years to let me speak with you like this as well, but he was adamant against it. For a powerful royal, he can be a real scaredy-cat when he wants to be. Please don’t be mad at him for waiting to tell you about our relationship. He didn’t tell me about yours immediately either. Of course, he told me immediately when you became friends and wrote of you fondly and frequently, but it was not until after you had become intimate that he worked up the courage to tell me about it. The confession is in here for you to read yourself. He felt horrible for going behind my back, but Astrals, was it apparent how fond he was of you. He said something to the effect of “I understand if you hate me now. If you don’t want to talk to me anymore, I get it, but I love him. I can’t just not be with him when he’s right here, you know? I hope you know I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

To answer your questions, I would much like to get to know you as well, and yes, feel free to browse this journal’s contents. I agree with Noctis that to make this “relationship” work, open honesty in all aspects is the best option. Now that we are all on the same page, I don’t see any reason for secrecy. All I ask in return is that you will be open enough to answer any questions I ask in regards to your feelings toward Noctis, seeing as you will have a clear impression of mine from my writings. Also, please refrain from worrying about my reaction to anything you might say or from feeling the need to be formal or polite. I would like to get to know the real you, the you that you show Noct, rather than how you think you should present yourself to a royal. As I’m sure you know, what Noct loves the most about you is that you don’t treat him any differently for his title, so I would ask that you try to show me the same treatment. That said, Luna is fine. May I call you Prom, or would you rather wait until we are better acquainted?

Best wishes,

Luna

He reads the letter twice just to make sure he read it right before he lets a smile settle on his face. Noct slides into bed beside him.

“Good news?”

Prompto nods and hands the journal over. He watches as Noct smiles as he reads.

“See? I told you to relax.”

“Yeah, I mean she is just a person, same as you. I shouldn’t be so nervous, it’s just different than with you cause I saw you snoozing at your desk at school and stuff.” This earns him an elbow to the ribs. “All I know of Lunafreya is from the news and what you’ve said, ya know?”

“That’s why you should get reading. That way your brain can get past her public image and see the real woman with real wants and flaws.”

He gives a nod and starts reading. Once he starts, he can’t stop. He moves into the living room at some point when Noct complains he can’t sleep with the bedside table light still on. He has work the next day, but he just can’t bring himself to put the journal down and is still reading when Noct stumbles out of his bedroom.

“You still reading?” he asks with a yawn.

“Oh, shit.” He glances at the clock to see that he only has two hours until his shift. As much as he hates to, he shuts the journal and dashes to the bathroom to take a shower.

He learns a lot from reading the journal, mostly about Luna, but some about Noct as well. Noct doesn’t talk much about his time in Tenebrae, but he has brought it up a couple of times in their writings. It makes sense since that was the time the two of them actually physically interacted. Apparently, they had been fast friends, and quickly more even at that age. Luna had been much like any little girl, dreaming of fairy tale endings where she married the prince of her dreams, so when Noct--a literal prince--walked into her life, she jumped right onto it. It was nothing but an innocent relationship between children, of course. Holding hands as they swang together, laughing as they ran across waves at the beach, playing that Luna’s many dolls were their children. It wasn’t until they were separated and time and reality matured them that the childish crush bloomed into more. Again, it was Luna who fell first, it seems. Not surprising, since she writes that the empire allows her few meaningful interactions.

He learns much more about her. More than he expected or hoped for, and feels his cheeks heating at the intimacy of what he’s reading several times. Noct outright laughs at him when he catches him sputtering over her writing “I burn for you, Noct my love” at one point. The thing is that the further in he gets, the more uncomfortable he gets and eventually has to stop. Now it’s less “I burn for you” and more “I can't stop thinking about what it would feel like to have your hands on me.” He's read enough that now when Noct touches him he can’t help thinking about him doing it to Luna and he isn't sure how he feels about that. He figures that's as good a place to start with Luna as any.

Dear Luna,

Sorry it took me so long to write back. I was reading everything in the journal but I just couldn't do it. It was getting to be a bit much. Now I can't stop thinking about Noct touching you like he does me and I don't know how I feel about it. It's weird because I always knew you guys were gonna get married and have sex, but this is the first time I've really thought about it. I guess it didn't matter since I thought it would just be casually once in a while until you had an heir. I didn't think it would really mean anything, ya know? I just assumed Noct only saw you as a friend since he was dating me. I don’t know why I never thought you might feel differently. Anyway, I’m glad I read what I did. I do feel like I understand you better now. A lot better, since I really didn’t know you at all aside from your news persona.

But anyway, I can see why you asked me to be open with you in return. That was definitely some open stuff, and intimate going in further. I’m honestly surprised you were okay with me reading what I haven’t. Noct? Well, I guess I can see why he wouldn’t mind, given I literally see him naked more days than not lol. But that’s not the point. It’s still, I don’t know, weird for me to think about this. I read the letter where he told you about me but I still don’t understand how you were okay with this. It should be even harder for you. Here I am getting all weirded out thinking about something that will happen when here we are actually doing it. Aren’t you jealous? Envious? Uncomfortable thinking about it?

(Oh. P.S. sure, I don’t mind if you call me Prom)

Best wishes,

Prompto

Dear Prom,

I don’t blame you one bit for reacting as you are now. I would be lying if I said it was easy learning that Noctis had feelings for you. At first, I was devastated because I kept thinking that there was no way he would still want me when I am all the way in Tenebrae and he could have someone else right there with him. As you read, Noct promised his feelings for me had not diminished and that he still planned on marrying me, but it took a couple days for it to sink in that he couldn’t exactly abandon me when our marriage was already proclaimed. Even after it did, I kept thinking that the longer he spent with you, someone who could actually be with him physically, the less he would care about me. He would probably still marry me when the time came, but I thought he might cease writing in the meantime or just pretend to continue caring the way he had.

That first response I gave him, was not a lie, but not what I would call sincere. I have always wanted Noctis to be happy. If being with you is what makes him happy, then I would not wish for anything else. If he was willing to at least try to date us both at the same time, then who was I to break it off because of my own insecurities? Especially considering that he might be genuine in his promise. It was better to share him than to lose the one true connection I have. That was why I told him that he had my support and blessing. The longer you guys were together, the more assured I was that he was not losing interest in me. He wrote about you more than ever, and I could tell how much he cares for you, but he still gushed his feelings for me right after. As you read, he often reminded me how badly he wished I could be there as well, and so, I let that go to heart. I am an optimist, and he has yet to abandon me, so there is little more I could wish for. I was never going to be able to be with him physically up to this point, so it is not as if I have lost anything. It would have been foolish for me to believe he would go this long without ever being intimate with anyone. I am glad it was with you. I hope this answered your question.

I hope that you can find peace of mind about this. I hate to think our marriage will make you uncomfortable. Perhaps it is just because it is so new for you to think about. Give it some time.

Yours truly,

Luna

Dear Luna,

That makes sense. See, I never would have thought someone like you could ever be worried about losing to someone like me. You are absolutely gorgeous and have a title (I don’t care that Nifflheim took it away. You are still a princess!). I’m just an average nobody that happened to take a chance. It took me years before I even worked up the courage to try befriending Noct, so I’m still flabbergasted some days when I think about the fact that I’m dating him now. So yeah, I really want to come to terms with him marrying you, too. Because I just want him to be happy too, and if I’m the one uncomfortable, I should be the one to step aside. You two are a match made in all the stories. You’re who the people want together and who needs to be together. It’s not like I can give Noct an heir, right? So, we need to keep talking and become friends. Then it probably won’t be so weird to think about. Do you think about me and Noct a lot? (You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I’m just curious…)

Best wishes,

Prompto

Dear Prom,

As flattered as I am to hear you say that our relationship is important, it saddens me that you would care so little about your own feelings.

To answer your question, yes, actually. It’s hard not to since I know that you obviously do have sex. Not that Noct ever came out and said specifics, although I would guess that was more for your sake than mine. I’m also honestly, for lack of better phrasing, backed up. I do not exactly have the same freedoms Noct does. I probably could “get off” with someone if I truly put my mind to it, but I do not have such devotion to put my energy toward that. I’m okay waiting and am resourceful. I do not wish to push this too far and make you more uncomfortable than you already are, but if you do not mind answering, what are Noct and I doing when you think about us together? I realize now that you never said in so many words thinking these thoughts make you uncomfortable, so what do you feel when you think about it? I for one have quite a vivid imagination, so I have imagined more than one scenario...I hope you don’t mind. Of course, I don’t even know what you look like.

Yours truly,

Luna

Dear Luna,

Okay. You do know I’m a guy right? You do know that sort of thing might not be the best thing to tell a guy? Cause guys do stuff when you say stuff like that? I’m just looking out for you when I say that, alright. I’m not saying I did anything...By myself that is...You say you don’t want to make me uncomfortable, yet here we are talking about the three of us and sex, and…

You say you have a vivid imagination, but I would wager mine is more eccentric. Let’s just say, it’s more elaborate than what’s needed to make a baby. Is that a good enough answer? I mean I can go into more detail if you really want but are you sure you want me to? Don’t you have virgin eyes or something? Plus, I know you basically admitted to getting off to the thought of the two of us, but I still feel like a pervert admitting I have these thoughts. Which I guess answers your next question. I feel like a pervert. Worse than you probably do, because I do know what you look like.

Best wishes,

Prompto

Dear Prom,

Noct’s right, you are cute. I am the one that asked you, so please do not feel that you will soil my virgin eyes or something like that. (This honestly made me laugh). You would know better than that if you had continued reading in the journal. Remember I said you can read that, too, so you don’t need to feel like a pervert thinking about me having sex. Do you know how many people probably get off to the thought of me having sex? Same for Noct. It is part of publicity. To be honest, I am flattered that my simple confession would stir you up that much. I hope Noct treated you right ;)

That said, I would more like to discuss why exactly you feel like a pervert. Is it just because you are imagining me in that situation, or is there more to it? What more are you feeling? Say, if we were to marry tomorrow, would you wish to be there to watch on the wedding night?

Yours truly,

Luna

Dear Luna,

For the love of the Six. I’m really glad I’m not at Noct’s right now because I think I yelped. My face is probably so red. I don’t even want to look. I can’t believe you asked me that. Okay, I’m getting your whole “virgin eyes” thing. Apparently, I really am the only uncomfortable one here. Uh, okay, I did promise I would try to be honest, so here goes. Before Noct I’ve always liked girls. I still like girls. And like I said, you are gorgeous, so thinking about you and Noct together is kind of an overload. The first time I thought about it I was pretty freaked out because I was like “oh no! This is gonna happen and what if Noct likes it better?” but now I’m too caught up in how attractive you two are together in my mind to worry about that at the time. If I’m being honest, I might as well go all out and admit that I don’t even bother with porn anymore. If Noct’s busy, now I just think about you two. And, uh, yeah that was pretty forward of you. My brain is short-circuiting that you are even suggesting I watch you two in real life. Short answer, hell yeah. Yet, honestly, I’m still super embarrassed and feel bad. We’re even talking about your wedding night here. You know, a night of love and intimacy. Your first time too. I definitely don’t belong there, especially gawking at “the live porn.”

P.S. That’s a picture of me. So you know what I look like.

More embarrassed than you know,

Prompto

Dearest Prompto,

Please relax, I meant hypothetically. Though, if you asked nicely enough I would not mind you watching us :) (I am sorry. Noct said you were fun to tease and he was right. For the non-virgin here, you are adorable). Does it make you feel better that I admit that I would do the same given our roles were reversed? I am sure you two are gorgeous together as well. Thank you for the photo, by the way. You are quite handsome :)

So, now that we have this cleared up, I would not mind in the least if you did elaborate on your fantasies of me and Noct. I would not even mind if you were to tell me about what you and Noct actually do. I am a lonely girl after all. Especially since you seem to not be letting Noct write to me anymore. Are you embarrassed to have him read these letters?

Yours truly,

Luna

Dear Luna,

I’m starting to see why you two like each other. You are both meanies. Yeah, though, that does make me feel better. Maybe it is just natural to want to watch in a situation like this. And it’s better than wanting to rip each other’s hair out in jealousy, right? Also, oh my gods, you think I’m handsome? With my freckles?

Oh, oh my gods, you are using me to fill your spank bank, aren’t you? (You want honest and sex talk, then fine, we’re gonna talk). Okay (insert huge breath sound effect). So, what I imagine you two doing most (aside from kissing) is him eating you out. Noct does it to me sometimes, so I know he’s gotten pretty good at it. I figure you’d like it a lot. I imagine Noct taking you through multiple rounds before he comes inside (you know, to make a baby, not because I’m a pervert).

Uh, so since you asked about Noct and me, I’ll let you know some of what to expect. Noct is a lazy ass xD He’s what you’d call a pillow prince. It’s not like he won’t do anything, but he prefers lying on his back most of the time. His favorite thing is when I ride him. When he eats me out, I have to sit on his face so he can still lay down :’D. Though, when I think about you two, he’s on his stomach with you sitting up against the headboard.

Am I embarrassed? Did you not read my last signature line? “More embarrassed than you know”. Yes, I’m embarrassed. And yeah, yeah. I know Noct will read these eventually, but I figure if there’s more of them then he will pay less attention to each individual one. A guy can hope at least, right? :O (He’s totally going to punish me somehow for calling him a pillow prince. I know it >.<)

Still embarrassed, and honestly, kinda horny now thanks to you,

Prompto

Dearest Prompto,

I too am glad I am alone because I am grinning like a moron. You are really cute, you know that? Noct better be treating you right or I might steal you away from him ;) That would teach him a lesson, wouldn’t it? Perhaps once we are married you and I can team up to teach him what’s what. Does that sound like a plan? ;)

I know we are still fairly young considering, but I do wish we could hurry along with the wedding so that I could be there with you two. I tire of this life and do miss Noct dearly. Perhaps now that you know of our feelings and are okay with them you might mention to Noct to speak with his father on it? I have no true authority on the matter, but I am sure King Regis could use the wedding as a bargaining chip for staving off the threat of war. Not that I believe it will actually hold off the empire, but it might spare some extra time. Shiva, I have gotten depressing, haven’t I? I just wish that I could meet you and get to see Noct again as soon as possible.

Alas, let’s talk more about each other. Noct says that you enjoy photography? Would you mind sharing some? I swear to return them. I enjoy drawing, myself. Here are portraits I did of you and Noct.

Yours truly,

Luna

Dear Luna,

Wow. You are really good. I can see your love for Noct in the portrait. He looks more handsome than real life but more human than other portraits I’ve seen. Everyone else looks at him and sees this dignified royal (except for the king and Iggy and Gladio, and probably Iris, of course, but you get what I mean). You are making him better than life without glorifying him as more than life, if that makes sense. That’s something I’ve always admired about the fine arts. You can put more emotion into what you create than I can. I’m limited to what actually exists. All I have to work with is the shot, layout, positioning, lighting, and after-effects. But you can soften or harden reality or create your own from thin air. You can give life to a fantasy when all I can do is capture reality in the way I want. Gosh, I sound like I’m envious. Okay, I am, but I really do love photography. I wouldn’t give it up even if I could draw. It would be nice if I could do both, though. Maybe take photos and then draw them through the lens of my own eyes. That sounds pretty neat actually. I could sell books with the real image and drawing side by side for comparison. Do you maybe want to team up and do the drawings for me?

Also, oh my gosh. Is that how you see me in the picture I sent? *blushing* I, uh, I really don’t look like that. Please don’t get your hopes up. I don’t want to disappoint you.

Besides photography, I like video games. Pretty much any genre, but shooters and open worlds are my favorite. I like shooters cause I’ve always just had good aim for some reason. I like open worlds because I like pretending to be someone and somewhere else. Not that I don’t enjoy my life right now. I don’t know. I think you’d enjoy them too. You could be Argon the Slasher instead of trapped Luna for a bit xD

Yours truly,

Prompto

Dear Prom,

These are lovely. I understand what you mean about drawing seeming to create more life, but what you do is just as beautiful. Mine might be more open and personal, but the fact that you are limited by reality makes your photos even more magical. There is feeling behind your photos which takes more effort to get to show through. The fact I can feel that feeling in each photo, even if I might not be able to comprehend its meaning, is a sign of your dedication to the craft.

I think I probably would enjoy your sandbox games as well. Argon the Slasher, huh? That could be fun. Watch out ogres, I’m coming for you!

My way of being someone else is through reading. I read just about every novel I can get my hands on. The empire checks anything nonfiction I try to buy or borrow, but they don’t seem to care about anything fictional, so I have not run into any problems. There is a library here that I am still working my way through. My favorite genre is still fairy tales. I have never quite grown out of the “knight in shining armor saves the damsel in distress” phase. Now the endings typically move beyond the true love’s kiss, however.

Yours truly,

Luna

They continue to chat like this until Prompto realizes that he feels giddy each time he sees Umbra return with the journal. So giddy he actually jumps away from Noct cuddling him on the couch one day so he can grab it. After this realization, it sinks in that Luna isn’t so much playing with him anymore when she flirts. On more than one occasion, she has brought up thinking about just him instead of him with Noct. And Prompto doesn’t feel flustered when she brings this up. Instead, he feels, happy? Excited? Both? He shouldn’t. But now he’s having intrusive thoughts again and it’s of him and Luna now. He feels like even more of a pervert now, but this time he doesn’t mention it. Not because he is nervous to tell Luna (actually he wants to), but he knows Noct will read this journal eventually, and now he feels like he’s the one cheating (which is pretty ridiculous when he thinks about it. Or is it?).

He’s lying in bed at his own apartment for once, brushing his fingers over the cover of the journal. It feels as natural in his hands now as his camera. How long has he been writing to her, he wonders? It feels so long and so short at the same time. Has he kept Noct from writing her for that long? He feels a little bad for that. Maybe he should give the journal back tomorrow. His fingers thrum over the cover of the journal. Babum His fingers stop when the thought comes. He never read those last letters. If he gives the journal back, Noct might hold onto it from now on, so this might be his last chance. Noct said he could read everything, so he has no reason feeling guilty about it, right?

And so he reads. He reads as avidly as he did before, but it’s different now. He’s isn’t flustered this time, at least not in the same way. It’s strange because as he reads Luna confessing what she wishes she could do with and to Noct, he imagines it, but then he imagines the same thing with himself instead. He tries to stop, even closes the journal for full minutes before trying again, but it is hopeless. So, he is a pervert, but now he’s too far in to care. He reads the words like promises and knows he means them. He hears Noct’s voice whispering low in his ears, imagines what Luna’s voice would sound like, and hears his own voice entering the mix. He still feels bad when he wraps his hand around himself but it’s offset by how good it feels to just give in to it. His thoughts are a jumble of him and Noct and Luna, one thing followed by the next. He isn’t even reading the journal any longer, his mind taking off on its own.

Like he told Luna before, he has an eccentric imagination, so it doesn’t take him long to finish. When he does, he lies there staring at the journal as he catches his breath. Yeah, he definitely needs to give the journal back before this gets anymore out of hand.

As soon as Noctis opens the door to his apartment, Prompto hands the journal to him. “Here. I should have given this back sooner.”

Noctis takes it looking relieved even though he says, “No worries. I'm glad you two were getting on so well.”

He doesn't seem to be lying. Did he just miss talking to Luna or was he hurt Prompto was keeping the details of their relationship secret from him? Oh, no. He did the same thing Noct did to him. Except no, it wasn't the same, right? Noct was the one that told him to talk to her, and it wasn't a secret. It was just private. Except as soon as Noct told him he was entirely open about it. Prompto could feel guilt wiggling in his gut. “Well, go on. It's been long enough.”

He expects him to read what he's missed, but he picks up a pen, sits at the kitchen table, and beings writing. He knows he will read it eventually, but he is relieved he can put off the inevitable a bit longer.

Noctis doesn't bring anything up until he hands the journal back the next day. “You can write something too before I send it back”

Has he read it yet? Hesitantly, he takes the offered pen and journal and begins writing. At first he overthinks, but then the words are overflowing and a smile touches his lips as he imagines Luna's reaction to seeing a message from each of them. His words cut off at Noct's voice.

“You seem happy.”

He sets the pen down as if it were on fire. “Yeah.”

“Saying something good?” There’s something off about Noct's smile. He must have read it.

“Sorry.”

Noct blinks at him. “What are you sorry for?”

“Thinking about Luna like that. I didn't mean to but she kept bringing it up and putting those little winky faces and--”

“Prom, look at me.”

He does. Noct isn't smiling anymore but he doesn't look upset either. “I think by now I've gotten pretty good at reading subtext, and Luna wanted you to.”

“Oh.” So it was her Noct was upset with? “Still, I should have been able to control myself. Don't be mad at her.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Uh,” Prompto waved his head “because she's your fiance?”

“And you're my boyfriend.”

“Uh huh. But I'm not her boyfriend.”

“Do you want to be?”

The question knocks him back. Was that an option? “Well, uh…”

“Prom,” Noct clasps his hands over his on top of the journal, “I wouldn't mind. Things would actually be easier this way. Weren't you the one who hated the idea of passing me back and forth? I said we should try to make this work, and I meant it. I want both of you in my life, not to monopolize you. And honestly, thinking of you there watching us on our wedding night is fucking hot.”

“You aren't just saying that, right? You actually don't mind?”

“To tell you the truth I've thought about you two together as well. And maybe it's because I am a pervert.” Noct's outright grinning now and Prompto shoves at him.

“Very funny. I was trying to behave myself, alright.”

“I know. And thanks. It does mean a lot knowing you'd do that considering the circumstances.”

Dearest Luna,

I want to let you know that I like you. You're more fun than I expected. I'm sure the three of us could play video games and joke around together all day. You and I could read together while Noct naps. I can take pictures, and you can draw your interpretations of them. I think the three of us could be really happy together. Noct thinks so too. He says it’s okay I started liking you and that you definitely feel this way too. I’m pretty sure you do too, but I want to hear you say it. I mean that literally. I want to actually hear it in that pretty flowing accent of yours. I feel weak just thinking about it. I better hold off or I’ll never last till the wedding night ;)

Love,

Prompto

Dearest Prom,

Finally! You know, it took a lot of confidence to keep on flirting when you never acknowledged it. Of course, I like you back. I always wanted to meet you, Prompto, and when we started talking I could immediately see what Noct sees in you. There's something about you. You have a way of making life feel better. Lighter. Yet you are also such a worrier. You worried so much about what I and Noct would think instead of being true to yourself. Besides, Noct deserves to be taught a lesson after hiding his feelings so long, doesn't he? ;) I can't wait till we get the chance to teach him. Together.

Love,

Luna

Prompto may have grinned until his face hurt after reading that, and Noctis might have called him a sap and kissed him senseless.

It wasn't long until king Regis announced the official wedding date. It was to take place in Altissia, a neutral territory, but after Luna would be coming home with them. Plans were made to move Noct from his apartment into a house or back to the citadel, but he waved it off saying that could wait. He just wanted Luna there first and foremost, even if it meant living in a shed, and he knew she felt the same.

Noctis managed to talk his dad into letting him ride with Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio instead of him, Clarus, Iris, and another kingsglaive. As usual, Ignis volunteered to drive, and for a change, it wasn't hard to talk Gladio into taking shotgun, so Noctis and Prompto could sit together in the back, fingers joined on the seat.

Gladio turns his head around with a suspicious look. “You seem pretty happy considering, Prom.”

“Gladio--” Ignis warns.

“No,” Noct says, “it's fine.”

“I am happy Luna's gonna be here now,” Prompto begins. “I've always wanted to meet her, and well,” he squeezes Noct's hand and continues when he nods, “I'm in love with her too.”

There is a long silence as they take this in. Ignis is the first to break it. “And does Lady Lunafreya feel the same?”

“Yeah, it’s crazy, but she does.”

“That is good, then. We had worried what this marriage might do to you. As long as you are all happy and consenting, I will not stand in the way.”

Gladio looks surprised. “You won't?”

“It is not as if they are asking to marry Prompto today as well, although I would stand by you on that as well. As long as they are able to produce a legitimate heir and his Majesty himself does not forbid it, not even the council can really do anything about a mutual consort.”

“Really?” Prompto bounces in his seat.

“Yes. I believe it best to keep this under wraps for a short while, but I do not think there will be any major backlash from the truth coming out. The biggest concern is Niffelheim which is why I suggest waiting until you have an heir.”

“With two nobles in-home, security's gonna tighten,” Gladio says. “You stay at Noct's often enough it won't seem too strange for you to continue doing it, but you're gonna have to wait till after the honeymoon.”

“Oh.” He can't help feeling disappointed after all their discussion of the wedding night.

“Come on, blondie, don't look so down. You can wait a week, hell, she's been waiting a decade.”

“It's not that.” Prompto tries to let go of Noctis’ hand to fiddle with his fingers, but he holds on tight. “The wedding night's special, that's all.”

“Luna sort of made a promise to him.”

Gladio sighs. “Fine. I'll pull some strings to get on guard duty. But if I hear you guys going at it, you'll never gonna hear the end of it.”

Prompto jumps forward to hug Gladio from around his seat. “Thanks, big guy.”

Gladio puts a hand on his arm. “Don't mention it.”

“Thanks, guys. Thanks for supporting us.”

“Noct,” Ignis says, locking eyes in the rearview mirror, “I will always support your decisions.” His gaze falls back to the road. “Except when they are stupid, like trying to teepee Duke Ferdinand's home, or detrimental to your health, such as not eating your vegetables.”

“Hey!”

Noct catches Ignis around the neck causing the car swerve.

“Ah, and now you do something that’s both.”

Noct lets go with a scowl as the rest of them chuckle.

When they finally meet Luna in the watery city of Altissia, she has her own entourage.

“Noct?” She cries and rushes across the room.

His hands find her shoulders, holding her just shy of an embrace. “I'm glad to see you're safe.”

“As I wrote many times, I was never harmed, thank the gods.” Then she turns to face Prompto, and Six, she's so lovely it takes his breath away. She's dressed in a shimmery silver gown, which very well could be her wedding gown for all he knows, and her platinum blonde hair is done up in an elegant updo. “Prompto, it's so good to finally meet you.” She extends her hand, and Prompto shakes it even though he really just wants to kiss her.

Her smile tells the same and their handshake is longer than is necessarily proper. “Same.”

“Noct’s shield, Gladiolus.” Gladio bows politely. “I will be on private guard duty tonight.” He discreetly eyes Prompto, and Luna gives an appreciative nod of understanding.

“Thank you for your service, Shield Gladiolus.”

“Gladio is fine.”

“Then I insist that you call me Luna.”

When her eyes find Ignis, he gives his own cordial bow. “Noctis' advisor, Ignis.”

“Good luck with this one,” Prompto says. “He still calls Noct, his highness most of the time.”

Luna stifles a giggle behind a hand. “So Noct has told me.”

“There is nothing wrong with politeness,” Ignis argues.

“Sure, Specs.”

With the greetings out of the way, Luna folds herself into Noct's arms and he kisses the top of her head. “Oh, Noct. I'm so glad today has finally come.”

“Me too.”

Me three, Prompto thinks.

A woman in Luna's entourage steps forward. “My lady, I'm sure you would enjoy some time with Prince Noctis, but we must begin preparations.”

“I understand,” she says, but her hands tug on Noct's as she pulls away and she gives Prompto a longing look as she walks out.

Prompto is Noctis’ best man, so technically it's his job to help him get dressed and otherwise ready, but Iggy being Iggy steps right in for the job. Prompto isn't about to complain.

“This is crazy, dude. I have to keep reminding myself this isn't my wedding.”

His outfit is less fancy than Noct's, but it's still nothing he would have ever imagined wearing.

Noct throws his head back to see around Ignis who is adjusting the bowtie on his tux. “It might as well be.”

There's a patter in Prompto's chest. “You mean that?”

“Yeah, I mean you know I haven't asked Luna specifically, but I sure as hell am not letting go of you anytime soon.”

Prompto smacks his cheeks. “You're gonna make me cry before the wedding. I need to save my reserves.”

Noct chuckles as Ignis backs up.

“I believe you are all ready.”

“Thanks, Iggy. Mind leaving us alone for a little bit?”

“Of course.”

After he's left, Noct gives him a once over. “Damn you clean up well. You're gonna have to let me buy you clothes more often.”

“If we're talking about what goes under these, I'm all game.”

“How about both?”

He gives him a kiss, and Prompto moans before crying out, “Holy shit!”

“What?” Noct asks with a smirk. “That good?”

“No, it just occurred to me Luna is probably wearing lingerie.”

“Probably. I can't wait.”

“Have I told you you're a pervert?”

“Pretty sure I've admitted it once or twice.”

This probably isn't something he should feel sappy about, but he can't help it. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I had a reason for asking specs to leave. I need you to know that I meant it when I said this might as well be your wedding. I know I can't marry you today, and I can't promise how things with Luna will go, but Prom, I wish that I could. Maybe once I have an heir I can somehow bend the law so that I can, but will you promise to stay with me even if I can't?”

The words are out of his mouth before he even thinks them, “Ever at your side.”

The ceremony is absolutely beautiful. There are sylleblossums everywhere. Strung along the aisles, stitched at the low collar of Luna's shimmering gown, even woven in her updone hair. They both look so happy which makes Prompto so happy. Luna’s vows are about how she would have waited a lifetime for him, and Noct's are about how distance only makes the heart fonder. It's really cheesy but also really sweet. They have eyes solely for each other, in a way that only comes from having been apart for so long, and yet when Noct turns to take the ring from Prompto, his eyes burn into his with promise, and when they come together for their kiss, Luna's eyes linger on him a moment before falling shut.

I now pronounce you husband and wife. And mutual consort, his mind supplies. Prompto bawls like a baby and he isn't ashamed one bit.

Waiting through the reception sucks. All he wants to do is smother them in kisses but he's stuck with sincere but only half as excited words of congrats. At least he's able to hug Noct and even dance with him since everyone knows they are best friends. Still, it is hard not kissing him when he gives him those promising eyes and looks so downright happy.

To his surprise, it is Luna that breaks them up. “May I cut in?”

Prompto moves aside, but she extends her hand to him. “Oh, me? Am I allowed?”

Luna giggles and it's gotta be the prettiest sound he's ever heard. “Of course. I may be Noct's bride now, but I can still dance with whom I choose.”

“R--right. I just meant it being your wedding day…” It doesn't seem like a good idea to draw attention to themselves, but he can tell he's only making it worse by making a big deal of it. “Okay.”

They stand a polite distance apart and Prompto makes sure to place his hand about level with her stomach rather than on her hip, but their hands clasp tightly.

Luna smiles lightly as they begin to dance. “You needn’t worry so much.”

“Yeah, but if anyone found out, that would be really bad, wouldn’t it?”

“Today, definitely. But once we are king and queen and have an heir, we can give the council a piece of our mind.”

Prompto nearly trips over his own feet. “Oh my gods. It didn’t fully dawn on me until now. I never had friends and now I'm in a relationship with two people and they are going to be the king and queen soon. I went from outcast to village envy. I'm the royal mistress.”

Luna laughs so hard she snorts.

Instantly, he feels more relaxed and begins to lead them again.

“If you wish to be called that, I won’t object. By the way,” she says quieter, “you are a better dancer than I imagined.”

“Oh,” he ducks his head with a blush, “Noct and Iggy taught me. It’s a requirement of the crownsguard. Can you believe it?”

“Well, I can’t say that I am displeased.”

Eventually, guests begin to thin out. Prompto expects the royal couple to go ahead with him sneaking in after a suitable delay, but to his surprise, Noct slides up close. “Care to escort us to my room?”

Seduction drips from his voice and Prompto has to hold back a shiver, glancing nervously around the nearly empty ballroom. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

Still, he stays in step with Gladio in the rear the entire way there. When they finally reach the door, he sags against the wall with a sigh of relief, watching as Noct opens the door and gives him an expectant look.

“Well, go on,” Gladio says, literally pushing his deadweight through the doorway, “don’t chicken out now.”

“Thanks,” he says and shuts the door before any prying eyes can catch him.

Nerves are jumping through his system now that the three of them are in private. He’s been with Noct more times than he can count but this is still completely overwhelming, and they aren’t even doing anything yet. As much as he’s fantasized about this moment and had time to mentally prepare, now that it’s here he feels as much insecure as he does excited. Luna called him cute, but will she still think so when his clothes are off? He’s actually glad Gladio’s out there blocking the doorway because otherwise he really might chicken out.

They are both looking at him, Noct with the watchful eye of someone who knows you all-too well, Luna like he’s a piece of candy she vowed not to eat but was left out on the counter.

“Hey,” Noct says, coming close and cupping his cheek, “relax. You don’t have to stay if it’s too much.”

He shakes his head. “No, I just--”

“Nervous?”

He nods. “And excited. Just, there’s three of us and this will be my first time with a girl.” He shifts his eyes to Luna and remembers this is her first time ever. So stupid. He has no right to be the one freaking out right now. “I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “this must be way more overwhelming for you than for me. I’m fine. Promise.”

Luna touches his arm. “Shh, it’s okay to feel your emotions. I can’t say that I am not freaking out a bit myself.”

Her smile is so genuine and kind it eases most of his tension. Luna won’t reject him. She’s too kind for that. “You hardly show it.” She looks like a friendly kangaroogan ready to bounce onto him.

Noct drops the hand from his face and kisses him. “This will be new for all of us. I’m not about to make either of you do anything you aren’t comfortable with. If you want to just watch, Prom, that’s fine.”

“Yes, just as we discussed before. But please don’t hold back because you think it will be too much for me, alright? I really do want this, with both of you.”

“Um, I mean,” he shares a look with Noct, “we should probably have some restraint on what we do today…”

There’s no way Luna wants to take both of them the first time. Although now that Prompto thinks about it, Luna shouldn’t even take him anyway, should she? Not until she’s pregnant.

Suddenly, Luna’s kissing him, and that line of thought dies. Her lips are silky smooth, so much softer than Noct’s. She sighs happily, melting neatly into him.

“Finally got to kiss you.” When he meets her eyes, though, they are sparkling with mirth. “I have a pretty good guess what you were thinking, and no, you probably shouldn’t come inside me. As sad as that is.”

Prompto can’t help it. He sputters. He really shouldn’t be surprised, given the things she wrote in her letters, but it’s still mindblowing to hear stuff like that come straight from such an elegant mouth. “T--that’s okay,” he says lamely.

For his part, Noct is cracking up at his expense. “Come on, Prom. You’ll have a chance. You’ll just have to wait a while.”

“Yes, I am sure that we will have more than enough chances to make up for lost time.”

“Alright!” Noct says. “Are we ready to move on to the actual sex already?”

Prompto snorts. “Have I told you you’re a pervert?”

Noct pecks him on the lips. “Not hiding it one bit.”

“I am in your hands, oh experienced ones. How shall we proceed?”

“Uh, Noct?”

“You should eat her out.”

His mouth is suddenly wetter. Okay. That is one way to start. He’s never ate a girl out before but he has done it to Noct. How different could it be?

Luna moves to undo her dress, but Noct smirks. “Keep it on.” He sits on the edge of the bed and pats his lap. “Come here.”

Okay. What? Has he been like researching things to do in a threesome? Maybe he should do that...His calm coordination of this is turning all of his earlier nerves to arousal. Noct wants him to eat Luna out, and he can definitely do that.

As soon as she’s seated, he gets down on his knees to crawl beneath the long trail of her gown. At first, it’s too dark to see, but as he lifts his head level with the edge of the bed, light creeps in from behind him so that he can see her long flawless legs and panties. They are the deepest black, a stark contrast to the white of her gown and what Prompto would have expected. It is lacy with wavy, see-through sides and is plush to the touch when he runs a finger down the front of them. Luna shudders at this modest touch and his lips quirk. He can’t wait to see her other reactions.

Noctis must do something because she gives another shudder right before he spreads her knees apart so that he can sink down into the space between her legs. He kisses the inside of her thighs and pushes a finger against the fabric of her panties. Women need more teasing, or so he’s read. He isn’t about to fail his first attempt with a woman. What could be his last if he does. To shake the thoughts away, he presses his face forward and licks over the panties covering her. Even through the fabric, he can taste a light touch of her and she gasps out sweetly. He licks again and nudges with his finger against the edge of the panties until she is knocking at him with her thighs and whimpering noncommittally to move along. She seems to be enjoying it, so he slides the panties down her legs and lets himself sink into the experience more. Everything about her is different from Noct--her smell, her taste, her sounds. Her reactions are open and unreserved. It's all enough to make him fully hard, untouched, so he really isn't surprised one bit that her orgasm comes on quick and hard. Kissing Noct as she is, her only warnings are shivering and a muffled sound. Prompto licks her through it, and though he can’t say for sure if he is good at this or if she’s just overwhelmed with it being her first time, he pats himself on the back for a job well done.

Once her shivering has stopped, he places a kiss to her thigh and crawls out from beneath her gown.

Noct gives him a smirk and runs his thumb over his chin. "You missed a spot."

"Why don't you clean it up for me?" He batts his lashes coyly.

Noct surges forward, kissing at him hungrily. He moans into the kiss, obviously high on the taste of her. Luna's still there, trapped between them on Noct's lap, and her hand's trail down Prompto's back.

"You good?" he asks her.

Her eyes sparkle. "Never better."

He might blush at that.

Noct is still staring at him. "I believe we owe her a bit of time to recover, you know, before the main event."

Prompto licks his lips. "Yeah."

"Dear," he turns to look at her, "what shall we do in the meantime, hm?"

"Oh." For the first time since they entered the room, she actually looks unprepared. "I'm okay watching for a while."

Noct brushes at her hair. "Any specific requests?"

Her eyes flit between them. She does, she's just too embarrassed to say.

"Hey," Prompto says, giving her hand a squeeze, "don't start going shy on me. I don't know what we'll do if both of us are."

She cracks a smile at this. "Alright, then. If Noct is going to have his way with me, then Prom deserves his reward, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, I would. And how should we reward him."

“We can’t have you having to recover as well, so…”

Noct presses his mouth to her ear but whispers loud enough for Prompto to hear. “You wanna watch me deepthroat him, don’t you?”

Her eyes go a bit glassy. “I...yes,” she answers quietly.

Noct smirks. “You heard the lady. Get over here, Prom.”

He tugs him half onto the bed and Prompto more than willingly meets his mouth. Noct’s hands hold tight to his hips as he kisses him hungrily. He moves down to kiss and bite at his throat.

“Noct,” Prompto whines, “I’m more than good to go.”

Noct chuckles. “I figured. Still, gotta give the lady a good show, right?”

Right.

“What’s the best way to do this then? You know, for her to watch.”

“Sit against the headboard.”

Prompto looks there, realizing that if he does so Luna will be right beside them. He can feel his pulse quickening at the idea of being watched so intimately. It’s Luna, it’s okay, he reminds himself. He wants this.

They are both still fully dressed, so he undoes his pants on his way to the headboard and tugs them down to his calves. When Noct joins him, only his fly is open, dick untucked and aroused just as much as Prompto. Noct kisses him again, but his hand finds his erection and starts stroking him. Luna sits up on her elbow, staring unblinkingly at Prompto’s cock, which throbs at the attention. Stroking him evenly, Noct kisses his way down, only stopping once he’s level with his cock. Slowly, he presses his lips to the tip, then swipes his tongue down to the base and back up. His hips buck, wordlessly begging for him to take him into his mouth. Noctis chuckles, but gives in, taking only the head in at first. He gives a slurp before bobbing his head down, finally beginning a real blowjob.

Prompto’s thoughts momentarily haze over from the pleasure. Once he’s lucid enough to remember that they have an audience, he turns to Luna and notices the way her gaze shifts between Noct’s mouth to Prompto’s face. He has to bite his lip to fight back the sharp moan at the attention. Gods, he wants to know what her mouth feels like in Noct’s place and he can tell she’s thinking about the same thing. He pulls her up into a kiss and she runs her hand down his arm to his stomach and finally Noct’s hair. The prince lifts a heated gaze to meet hers and doubles his efforts. Prompto gives up on trying to keep his voice down as pleasure overtakes him. He lets his eyes slide shut and his hips jut up as he sinks into it. Noct bobs and sucks and swirls, Luna’s kissing at his neck now, and it’s too much for him to take.

“Noc---” he starts, cutting off into an incomprehensible sound as he cums.

He leans back against the headboard as Noctis licks him clean. There is a white drop remaining on his check afterward, and Luna wipes it off with her thumb. She stares at it intently for a moment.

“That’s--” He’s struck dumbfounded when she pops the thumb into her mouth and makes a face. He can’t help but laugh at that. “Not to a princess’ pallet?”

“Not really.”

“Hope you’re still gonna let me kiss you,” Noct says, moving out of Prompto’s lap only to move into Luna’s.

She holds the back of his neck, voice low, “You better.”

Prompto rolls onto his side as the couple melds against each other. He’s got the best view in the house, able to spot the subtle way Noct’s dick nudges against her gown for friction. “Dude,” he says, honestly sorry to interrupt, “we should really get her out of that thing if she’s ever going to wear it again.”

“I mean,” Luna smirks and wiggles her hips against Noct, “we can keep it here in private where a few stains won’t matter.”

It’s official. These two will be the death of him. Not that he can think of a better way to go.

He must be making a face because she giggles and pushes Noct away. “Okay! You’re right.” She stands to undo the gown and winks at him just as it drops to the ground. “We can always stain it later.”

He makes a noise that’s too embarrassing to describe as his brain takes the words and sight of her in. Her bra matches the panties she wore earlier, black and lace, but see-through over her nipples. He wants to kiss them but she’s too far away.

She smirks at them and nudges at Noct’s legs. “Come on now. Are you going to get out of those clothes, or just stare all day?”

“Yeah, Noct?” he says, as if he hadn’t been doing the same thing.

Noct gives him a quick look that says he fully knows he was, then gets up and removes his own clothes. While he does Luna settles back onto the bed and Prompto’s hand is unconsciously drawn to her breast. She says nothing, just hums a little, so he continues to feel over it. As soon as Noct’s gotten his clothes off, he takes her other breast in-hand.

“How are you so beautiful?”

She gasps when he flicks her nipple. “I have a personal wardrobe artist?” she jokes.

His lips quirk slightly, but the way he dives down to kiss her is strangely intense, and Prompto pulls his hand away from her, afraid he’s somehow invading the moment.

“Are you ready,” Noctis asks, hips bumping at hers. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Luna nods, hands cradling his face. “I have as well.”

Prompto is left watching in awe as Noctis pulls slightly away only to line himself up and sink ever-slowly into her. Her body jerks and she gives a whimpering moan. Luna grips at his arms at the discomfort and he presses soothing words to her lips. They are beautiful together, black and white, like night and day. Prompto watches motionlessly, determined not to disrupt this moment between them, as Noctis presses soothing words against her lips. She nods and he kisses at her jaw before returning to her lips again, which are beginning to puff slightly. Her grip loosens and he softly asks, “Ready?”

She nods, hands moving to his back. He brushes over her hair as he gives one measured thrust, then another. He gauges her reaction, a bit better than he did back the first time with Prompto, now that he’s had practice. “Doing okay?” he asks.

She nods again, opening her legs wider, welcoming him in further. “Yes, please, I...am growing used to it.”

Prompto smiles, fighting back the words that it will get better than that.

Noctis thrusts faster, but Prompto can tell he is still holding himself back for her sake. His hand moves from her hair to down between them. It’s a bit hard for Prompto to see with the way they are pressed together, but it is easy for his mind to fill in the blank image of him fingering her clit.

Luna’s head falls back with a cry of pleasure, and Prompto can’t take it anymore. Her neck is fully exposed and he leans in to kiss and suck at it. He can feel the way her breath stutters through her pleasure on his lips and each pulse flows through him straight down, stirring a new erection.

Luna’s too caught up to notice, but Noct meets his eyes with a smirk. “Enjoying the show?”

“You know it,” he says, cock in hand.

Noct moves even faster and Luna’s moaning beautifully. Prompto’s pretty sure this would be the only thing he would need in his spank bank for years, not that he’ll need one from now on, he’s sure.

Luna’s legs tighten, then she makes the most beautiful sound Prompto’s ever heard. It actually makes him a bit pissed Noctis stole the last one. Prompto’s hand moves frantically over himself.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Noctis thrusts a handful more times before he comes with his own moan. And if that wasn’t enough to push Prompto over, Luna whimpers at the feel of him filling her. The image of her with a bulging belly flits through his mind, and that’s it, he’s died and gone to heaven.

His head lays on her shoulder as Noctis settles over her middle, still connected as they all take a needed moment to rest. He must fall asleep, because sometime later, Luna is pushing him off her.

“Come on, Noct. We can’t stay like this forever.” She tries at scolding but fails miserably.

He grumbles at having to reposition himself. “That helps, ya know. I read it. Or, Specs read it to me.”

“Oh my gods!” Prompto exclaims, pressing his face further into Luna’s skin. “You asked Iggy to read you tips on getting pregnant?”

For the first time that night, Noctis is the one looking embarrassed. Prompto wishes so badly he had his camera. “Yeah, well, this was before I talked to you about this, so it wasn’t like I could ask you to read it.”

“And heaven forbid you read it yourself.” Noct scowls and the other two laugh. “What else did he read?”

“That she should lay here for a while, the longer the better. So that it stays in.”

“Ah.”

“Fine with me,” she sighs. “Not like I have anywhere else to be.”

“Better not,” Noct says giving her another kiss.

“Wait,” Prompto asks cautiously, “please don’t tell me you had him read about threesome positions.”

“Hell no!” Noctis answers quickly.

“Phew. Just checking. There’s no way I’d be able to look him in the face if you did.”

Noct laughs and pokes at his cheek. “Even I have limits.”

They fall silent again, and after a while, Prompto brings his hand up to the small of Luna’s stomach. “Do you think it will take?”

“That eager to be a dad, huh?” Noctis teases.

He readies a retort but it dies on his tongue. It’s been a lot of change very quickly, but he knows without a doubt that he is not looking forward to returning to his empty apartment. He wants to stay here with them and after spending so much of his childhood alone he can’t deny that starting a family sounds like a hell of a good idea. “Yeah, actually.”

Luna sighs and brings Noct’s hand up to her stomach as well so that she can cover both of them with her own. “It’ll be nice.”

“Yeah,” Noct says, face softening into something he’s never seen before. “Yeah, it will.”

#my writing #promlunoct #promnoctluna #prompto x noctis x luna #prompto argentum #lunafreya nox fleuret #noctis lucis caelum #ffxv #final fantasy xv #fanfic #fanfiction

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earlyspringtranscendence · 4 years

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i love how w carl prekopp he puts so much emotion into even the most unemotional descriptions that as soon as the audiobook ends he sounds like a robot doing the credits

#half bad is Not as good as the binding but its him and its fine #its good i just doubt that it should be 3 books instead of like. 1 #also. scream that book one has 5 stars #book 2 has 4 and book 3 has 2 #what happened......#also screeeeeaaaaammmmm at how this book ends w nathan going after gabrielle (who by the way is trans come at me)#but its gonna be like... then theyre gonna try and save annelies so its the love triangle of the fucken century #but gabrielle saying je taime... perhaps i am soft i love this boy so much the way carl does his voice OOF #not as good as the binding but. close the fuck enough #also im wondering if gabrielle IS in fact trans like i mean i kno hes french (maybe if i read it visually id kno #bc if his name is spelled gabriel it'll be a cis mans)#but like that comment abt him being able to transform into anyone 'male or female' okay so transgendered

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 3 years

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id: the start of a twitter thread by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg @TheRaDR from Sept 15 2021 reading,

Today's a good day to talk about prayer, no? I know it's a thing that feels hard and uncomfortable to lots of folks, so let's spend some time unpacking some of what it can be. 1/x thread.

For starters, let me make this clear: I don't believe in vending machine theology. Like, there is no version of any understanding of the divine that I have that involves me praying for a pony and getting a pony. Or a fast car or that gig that I want or whatever. Courage, patience, compassion? That's different, we'll get there. "But rabbi, the traditional Jewish liturgy includes prayers for livelihood, for healing, for all sorts of things! We ask for stuff!" Yes, and the traditional Jewish liturgy is written in the first person plural. Not I. We. So again, patience, we'll get there. / end id]

The thread continues,

But first, I want to say a few things about the act of prayer. The Book of Samuel talks about a woman named Hannah who's stuck in a dark place; she finally breaks, starts crying, and then, the book tells us, she "increased her prayers before God…. Hannah spoke on her heart." She's considered the paragon of prayer in Judaism; she didn't recite formal liturgy. She teaches us, though, that prayer is about speaking on your heart. It's a means to express something of our deepest selves, and not only naming it, but offering it up to the great beyond.

Whether or not you think of yourself as someone who believes in whatever might be called God, I'd like to suggest that there is power to this. I don't think you need to know to whom or what you're praying in order to pray.

Sometimes, you can just... pray. And see how it feels. If meditation can get us centered in the present moment, prayer can engage that presence, draw from or offer it up, or do both at the same time. Meditation is the work of the breath, of the stillness of the mind.

Prayer is, as the Jewish tradition puts it, "work of the heart." This work of the heart often emerges from the hardest spaces. Sometimes it comes out of that moment when you're at the edge of your ability to cope, or grief, despair, fear, anger, disassociated numbness, or overwhelm. Or from a bunch of those things, all at once.

Perhaps our prayers are open expressions of resentment, desperation, hope, gratitude, wonder, frustration, questions, or many of the other things a person might feel when we're up to the ears in it. Perhaps something else. I don't know.

I can tell you that if you spend all of Yom Kippur yelling at God until you get to the place where the tears are, or yelling until you find a new truth that you hadn’t uncovered, that will be a day well spent.

Yes, you can yell at God, you can be angry at God, you can yell at I-don't-know-if-there's-God-or-what-but-I'm-gonna-yell. The God in which I believe can take it.

Jews, anyway, have a long, proud tradition of yelling at God. It's... kind of how we roll.

But real prayer doesn’t push aside hard feelings. Nor will it magically fix everything. It can help us to name what's happening, & to pour it out to the great transcendent beyond — to turn your isolated feeling into something that connects you, that binds you to something bigger.

It is this outward offering that turns "feeling feelings" into prayer: we don't just experience them, we offer them up, to someone, something. We say, “here, can you hold on to at least a tiny piece of this anger, frustration and despair for just a second?” We connect our heart to the great infinite everythingness, the gushing, pulsing stream of life within and around us. We reach out.

It's about tuning into that which interlinks us all, that which is present within and between us. Try lifting up the things in the deepest places of your heart and try to release them like you're letting the wind take a balloon. You don't have to even know whether anyone's taking them or what, just try to pull the words up and out.

So then, to get back to the words in the prayerbook. First of all, permission:

If you're in services and what's happening with the prayerbook and where you are with things isn't where your head is at, let me be hopefully not the first person to give you permission to just be where you are, tune out of the service and tune in to your heart, tune in to whatever's happening there, do that. If you do some real work there, you've done good.

The point is not to recite every word of the Yom Kippur liturgy while your heart cries for attention. No. And as for crying in services? Feel free to ask anyone from any of the shuls I've attended regularly since the late 90's (aka when I got Jewy) if I have ever been seen sobbing hysterically during prayer services. Uh. Yes, hi, here is your permission slip to cry if you need to.

Sometimes in the process of prayer you move stuff around and find true things and clear out some things and the true things come out through tears. That's OK. Sometimes life is so full and the only time you have time to be a certain kind of present is during prayer and so it turns out that's when you cry. That's OK.

So, then, back to the words in the prayerbook. Whether you're more comfortable in the Hebrew (and occasionally Aramaic) or English, or a bit of both —permission slip to pray from whichever side works best for you — the prayerbook is meant to be your guide through a process. The liturgy has been crafted very intentionally. It's the trail for your hike. It's meant to take you on a series of risings & fallings, openings & closings, peaks & valleys. The blessings before & after the S'hma, before & after the Amidah, where (on YK) the viduis are, etc. We talk about keva (fixed form) and kavvanah (intention) as the heart of Jewish prayer. Taking the intention, the heart stuff I've been talking about and binding it to the words in the prayerbook, and offering it up. It takes practice, sure, but if you're in services a bunch tonight and tomorrow, why not practice?

Find some of the words that catch you in particular and really...pray them? See what it feels like to find some words that you wouldn't think to just write yourself and pray those?

And then we get around to the genius of Jewish prayer. The ways it shapes you, like water gently shaping a rock. The number of times I have, in prayer, had to find the ways and meanings around words I wouldn't have, in my tiny, finite, ego-driven self, thought to write. The ways that we — not I, we — has worked itself into me. It's not about my own love or sorrow. My own fate or concern. The hike has taken me to vistas more profound and beautiful than I possibly could have imagined on my own.

And it's forced me to tap into pain and suffering greater than I wanted to, because that's part of the work, too That's OK. We. Us. In any case, I want to bless you with the opportunity to do some of the work of the heart — tonight, tomorrow, and any time after that.

In services, or just walking down the street, when you're with a cranky child, at any moment when you need to offer something up. Formal prayer — yes. And spontaneous prayer is valid, too. It was for Hannah, it is for you, too.

Offer something up. PS: some theological Qs can be addressed in this piece, though more Bible-focused. Viz prayer, some Jewish philosophers talk about prayer impacting the person praying, some talk about prayer impacting the divine, some a combination, you don’t have to pick.

#judaism #yom kippur #prayer #prayer tag #danya ruttenberg #other faiths tag #important #twitter #Rabbi Ruttenberg wrote this for Yom Kippur in particular and from her Jewish lens #and those are the primary lenses to read it through BUT it can be read wider too.#like she says -- anyone can do this form of prayer. even those who don't know who or what exactly they're praying to #Christians for instance can learn SO much from this -- the emphasis on communal prayer. on not treating god like a vending machine #long post

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bluejayblueskies · 2 years

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Hi!! I’m looking into bookbinding, specifically ficbinding- contemplating getting into it, not committing yet bc i know have a history of researching, investing in, then abandoning hobbies. Right now tho im still in the research phase, and I’m wondering how it went when you bound It Will Be This, Always - thats on my list of fics i want to bind (has made me cry more than once) and id like to know the size of the paper and font you used, so i can estimate how much hypothetical supplies id need to replicate it for myself 👀 also any tips you might have for someone totally new!! thanks for your time, have a great day :)

hey!! i love seeing more people get into bookbinding--it's such a fun and rewarding hobby, and one of the best things about it is how versatile it is. there are people who have lots of specialist equipment and get really invested in the materials, there are people who work with what they have around the house, and there are people (like me) who are somewhere in between.

resources and commentary under the cut!

first off, here are some helpful resources for getting started out:

How to Make A Book, by ArmoredSuperHeavy

Sea Lemon's video about how to make a casebound book (she has a lot of other good videos too if you go poking around that are excellent for beginners)

DAS bookbinding videos (a bit more complex but good for research purposes and incredibly detailed)

A reference guide for a wide variety of different types of binding

Casing in a textblock - this is the method I use for casing in and it works pretty well!

Free icons to use when typesetting

Join the renegade discord! You don't have to have bound any books at all to join, and there's a ton of super helpful info and resources in there.

you can pretty easily do a pamphlet-bound notebook using some copy paper, a piece of cover paper, and staples if you want to start small and work your way up. (i did not do this haha, but i've seen a lot of other people do it and they can be pretty nice first projects!)

for it will be this, always specifically, i did a half-bound case-bound book, which means there's three separate pieces of bookcloth--one for the spine and two for each cover board. that kind of binding is detailed in armoredsuperheavy's tutorial from start to finish, which is pretty much what i used (minus the 'sewing with tapes' part because you don't really need to for smaller books).

in terms of equipment that i used for iwbta (which is a case bound book), the main things were:

an awl, for punching holes in the signatures (household alternative: a thumbtack or a strong needle with some sort of cushion on the end, like an eraser)

a bonefolder, for creasing the pages (you can also easily just use the back of your thumbnail, a credit card, or any other thing that will crease the pages crisply without damaging them)

pva glue, for gluing the spine, the cover, and attaching the textblock to the cover (household alternative: elmer's glue. it won't last as long but is good for just starting out and is easier to find at craft stores)

gluebrush/paintbrush, for applying glue (you can use one of those foam ones in a pinch, but something with bristles generally works better in my experience)

ruler + pencil, for measuring

needle and thread, for sewing the signatures (you can use regular sewing needle and sewing thread [doubled up for more strength], or you can use waxed thread. i personally have a block of beeswax [purchased for ~$4 from a farmer's market near me] that i use to wax embroidery thread for large books and regular sewing thread for small books)

paper (i used 8.5 x 11 hammermill 20lb cream colored paper, but you can also use just regular copy paper. the difference is that bright white paper can look blue in books, but honestly, i've never noticed anything odd about it, and i definitely have some published books that use bright white paper. the one caveat for this is that 8.5 x 11 paper is long grain and usually you want short grain paper for bookbinding, but i honestly wouldn't worry about this at all unless you decide to really go all-in on bookbinding)

bookpress, for pressing your pages and keep everything flat and together (household alternative: a few heavy books work, or you can use C clamps and thin boards)

printer + ink (or a printing service like Staples)

bookboard, for the covers. this is essentially chipboard, which you can find at local craft stores. you can also cannibalize an old textbook/binder for the stiff boards there, or use thinner cardboard in a pinch (i used some sheets of thin cardboard for my very first book). those cheap thin painting canvases also work well but can be a bit on the thick side. for the spine, thin cardboard is definitely the way to go (i usually use bits of old sparkling water boxes)

exacto knife or boxcutter, for cutting things (i can't think of a good household alternative to this--you'll want something that you can use in conjunction with a ruler so you can cut things straight)

bookcloth and/or decorative paper, for covering. bookcloth is basically fabric with a paper backing on it. you can make your own using heat and bond, tissue paper, and fabric, but for just starting out, you can also just use either a thicker fabric that glue won't soak through or cover the whole thing with paper. i've seen people cover their first book(s) with paper bags or other things they just had lying around!

i have a few pics of some of my early supplies here if you'd like to take a look!

for the typeset, i actually don't mind sharing it if you want to use it as reference (or just use it in general)! you can find a PDF and a copy of the word doc here!

the fonts i used were Garamond for the body and a Andragogy for the title/author/chapter titles. i've actually shifted to using Perpetua for my body font lately because i'm not fond of Garamond's italics--you can play around with serif fonts and see what you like best though! that's a lot of the fun of it <3

and here are some tips i have for people just starting out:

when typesetting, you're going to want to pick a page size for your document that aligns with the size of one page of your book (eg. if you're printing on letter-sized paper and doing a full-size book, half-letter or 5.5 x 8.5 is what you're looking for) and then use this imposer to put your document in the correct form for printing. esp. if you use word don't use word's built-in booklet settings--this is much easier and more flexible

do a blank notebook first using cheaper materials to catch any mistakes

do test prints of your typesets on cheap paper to make sure everything looks the way you want it (esp. colors and gradients, which look different when printed, and printer skew, where the front and the back won't always line up quite correctly)

there are a lot of videos out there about how to do things!! if the ones i've linked don't work for you, you can shop around through youtube until you find one that does.

it can be really easy to get overwhelmed with the sheer amount of information that comes up when you research bookbinding, so the best thing i find to remember is that a) there are many different ways to do this and while some ways may last longer than others or make more archival-quality books, ultimately, pick the way that you enjoy the most, and b) there are so many tools very few of which you actually need, so tbh you can ignore most people who try to tell you that you absolutely must have [xyz] piece of equipment

i hope this was helpful!! i've absorbed a lot of stuff since i started binding (and continue to absorb a lot of stuff, mainly from the renegade server) and there's a lot to learn, but it really can be as simple or as complex as you make it 💜

#ask #as-the-jay-flies #((and i'm so glad you liked iwbta!!! i would be so honored if you do end up binding it 💜💜💜💜💜))#did this answer your question alkdsjga i'm realizing that i rambled for a little bit so lmk if you need me to expand on/add anything!

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petertingle-yipyip · 3 years

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SIN MIEDO - BUCKY BARNES (THREE)

EPISODE THREE : POWER BROKER

series tags: @calums-betch // SM masterlist // another madripoor gif bc i loved those scenes

Pairing: Stark!Reader x Bucky Barnes (platonic/flirty)

Word Count: 9,209

Summary: Leaving John Walker in the dust, Y/N had to follow Barnes to a shifty contact. That leads them to Madripoor and an unexpected, and suspicious, ally. Juggling her grief, her control, her own doubts, the pressure of Walker on their tail, and a school girl crush, can she handle the fight?

The next day, the three of you found yourselves in Berlin. You weren’t surprised how easy it was to get through security. Flashing a smile and an ID with Stark on it opened pretty much any door. Surely it had nothing to do with Sam working with the Air Force again.

“Last time I was in Germany, we weren’t on the same side.” You commented nostalgically as you three followed the security guard. “How the tables have turned.”

“I’m gonna go in alone.” Barnes said as you all approached the last corridor.

“Not a chance.” You laughed as Sam said “Why?”

“You’re Avengers..” Barnes reasoned. “You know how he feels about that.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolicking in the sun together.” Sam mocked.

“He was obsessed with HYDRA. We have a history. Trust me, I got it.” Barnes assured before turning to leave. When Sam didn’t stop him, you did.

Quickly you reached out and grabbed his wrist. You made no effort to pull him back and he didn’t exactly pull away from you. He looked back at you with a stern expression, that he wasn’t going to cave.

“You’re not going alone, Barnes.” You said seriously, tightening your grip on his wrist slightly.

“Y/N-“ He tried.

“No.” You cut in. “I don’t care. I can do this all day.” You offered with a slight smirk.

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before caving. He nodded slightly, his expression betraying that he was slightly impressed. “Fine. Hurry up.” He said, nodding for you to follow.

“Yessir, Sergeant Barnes.” You chuckled as you followed behind Barnes. The comment earned you an eye roll and a scoff, but nothing was said.

“You sure you want to do this?” You checked as you two waited for security to let you in. “I can handle it on my own..”

“I can do it.” He nodded as you approached the cell.

“I’m sure you can.” You shrugged casually. “It was more about if you wanted to.”

You stayed a couple steps behind Barnes, using the shadows to stay mostly out of sight. You didn’t want to talk to Zemo, let alone be in the room. But part of you wanted to make sure that nothing happened. You didn’t know if you could stop Barnes if Zemo triggered the Winter Soldier, but you probably had the best shot.

You watched Barnes’ body language carefully. From your angle, you could see the look on his face. The tension of his shoulders. The hand you could see was in a tight fist. There was a certain fear in his eyes, in the way his jaw clenched. You could tell that a part of him, even if it was a small part, was scared that Zemo would send him back to the Winter Soldier.

Zemo tried the trigger words but earned no reaction from Barnes. You let out a breath of relief and saw Barnes’ shoulders relax as that tension left him. You didn’t doubt that Barnes had control, that his time in Wakanda was enough to rid his mind of HYDRA’s influence, but you also knew Zemo was crafty. You didn’t trust that he didn’t have a couple tricks up his sleeve. But then again… So did you.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Zemo said, catching your attention. “It was never personal.”

“Seemed kinda personal.” You muttered to yourself. You were anxious, shifting your weight between your feet. You wondered what Sam was feeling back in the hallway but you couldn’t go back. The tension in your body was begging for a release, seemingly burning it’s way through your skin. There was a crackle of electricity between your fingers, a skill you hardly had a grip on. You only figured out how to use it in quick bursts or it would build itself up in moments of high tension.

“You brought a friend?” Zemo questioned, his eyes turning to you. You sunk deeper into the shadows.

“Someone recreated the super soldier serum.” Barnes said to redirect his attention. There was more control in his tone and it settled something anxious in the pit of your stomach. “I need to find out who.”

“You’re assuming HYDRA has something to do with this.” Zemo said simply, studying Barnes as he spoke. The expression Zemo held, the way he was looking at Barnes like an experiment, tempted you to reveal yourself. Something about it made your skin crawl, but you knew you had to refrain. You needed the info. “Which is why you came to me, which means you’re desperate…” A smug tone laced his voice and made you want to gag. “Lucky for you, and your friend in the shadows, I know where to begin.”

“And in exchange?” You finally spoke, stepping into the small sliver of light and taking your place beside Barnes. “What’s it going to take?”

His sly smile made you instantly regret the question.

Without explaining anything to Sam, you and Barnes led him to a series of tunnels underground. You opted to remain silent through the endeavor, knowing you wouldn’t be able to explain it right. While Sam pestered Barnes about the plan, you were busy finding the best route.

You kept one hand against the concrete wall, tapping your fingers to feel the vibrations. The tunnels were empty save for you three. They lead to a basement where you stopped for Barnes to walk Sam through a “hypothetical”.

“Please tell me this is an actual hypothetical.” Sam looked to you. In the meantime, you were toying with balls of air in your palm. You were balancing on them in a handstand.

“Yeah.” You lied. “It’s a hypothetical.”

Barnes continued to explain everything while you purposefully distracted yourself. You weren’t a huge fan of this plan, but Barnes had a point. Zemo offered a starting point. Walker had nothing. You guys had nothing. Though you’d never admit it, you needed Zemo.

“Speak of the devil.” You commented when you felt his footsteps approaching. You landed back on your feet as Zemo entered the room.

“You’re going back to prison.” Sam insisted.

“If I may-“ Zemo tried.

“No!” Sam and Barnes yelled simultaneously.

“Sorry.” You said with a shrug, bringing your forearms up and slamming them together. The movement called walls of earth to rise and trap Zemo in a thick rock casing. “It’s nothing personal.”

“When Steve refused to sign the Accords, you backed him.” Barnes countered.

“You broke the law and stuck your neck out for him.” You added.

“I distinctly remember you-“ Sam pointed to you. “-were on the other side.”

“My name’s not anywhere on that document.” You corrected. “I was a minor. Wouldn’t have been legally binding.”

“I’m asking you to do it again.” Barnes tried.

“I really think I’m invaluable-“ Zemo began again.

“Shut up!” You groaned, lifting the rock to meet his chin. “I will go all the way up.” You threatened before turning your attention back to the boys. “I’m with Barnes. I know it’s crazy but it’s the best shot we got. And we gotta move fast cause Walker is working on this too.”

“Okay.” Sam agreed finally. You dropped the rock prison and looked to the boys. “You don’t make a move without our permission.”

“Fair.” Zemo nodded.

“Otherwise, you deal with me.” You said simply. His eyebrows raised in interest, a slight challenge glinting in his eyes. You lifted your hand in front of your face, palm to the side. As you lowered your hand, you angled it so your fingertips pointed at Zemo. You saw his muscles tighten as he struggled but gave in to your control and went down to his knees.

“Dad once said the best weapon was the weapon you only had to fire once.” You said as if you were contemplating the words. “Let’s hope he was right.” You released Zemo before Sam spoke up.

“So where do we start?” He asked.

While Zemo was collecting his things from one of the cars, he explained where to start. He mentioned a woman named Selby as a starting point.

“This whole time you were rich?” Sam asked wildly as you approached a private jet.

“I’m a Baron, Sam.” Zemo answered in a matter of fact tone. “My family was royalty until you destroyed my country.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “The Stark jet is nicer.”

You sat across from Barnes while Sam sat across from Zemo. You weren’t too interested in conversation. You didn’t know where you were going, nor did you really care. The sudden movement of Barnes made you snap to attention.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Barnes threatened lowly with a hand at Zemo’s throat.

“At ease, soldier.” You reached over to tug on Barnes’ jacket. After a moment’s hesitation, he came and sat back down.

“I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” Zemo said with a solemn nod. He gestured between you and Barnes. “What I don’t understand is the relationship here. Are you two… involved?”

“Don’t push it.” Barnes muttered angrily as you simply rolled your eyes.

Sam talked about the book, that it used to be Steve’s. He bragged about how he suggested something for Steve to write in it. You remembered you had suggested some things for him to look into too, your favorite had been all the horror movies you got him to add.

Sam and Barnes then bickered about the Troubleman soundtrack, to which Zemo chimed in. You groaned slightly, throwing your head back and staring at the ceiling. The conversation quickly shifted to Steve and super soldiers, mildly peaking your interest.

“Cities fly. Innocent people die.” Zemo carried on.

“You forget who you’re talking to.” You laughed in disbelief.

“Pardon?”

“You’re talking about Sokovia… I was there. And my dad nearly died - yet again - trying to save the world… Trying to fix his mistake but no one cared about that part, right?.”

“Only nearly..” He agreed. “I think it’s fair to say the Avengers, none of you were really innocent.”

“And he actually did die to bring back half the universe so excuse me if I don’t share your bitterness.”

“It seems that you do, Y/N.” He analyzed, watching the response your eyes gave away.

“Shut it.” You rolled your eyes.

Conversation quickly shifted to Madripoor. Zemo and Barnes explained what it’s like, what it was. It sounded like a place out of a book, but given that your career was fighting A.I. powered robots and a giant genocidal purple lunatic, nothing was surprising anymore.

“James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Zemo told Barnes.

A solemn expression came over Barnes. You couldn’t tell if it was regret, remorse, or something else. You leaned forward, resting elbows on your knees. You nodded to motion Barnes to come closer. He leaned forward in the same way.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” You asked quietly. “We can find another way, or we can do this witho-“

“I’m not sitting out.” He cut in. “I’ll be fine. Why do you keep trying to sideline me?”

“You won’t be alone.” You offered genuinely. “Sam and I got your back.”

Later that night, you walked the bridge that led to Madripoor.

“So who am I supposed to be, exactly?” You asked after Zemo had explained Sam’s character for the night.

“Rosalinda Calvillo Del Santos.” He said, showing you a picture of the girl. “Heiress to a huge cartel ring out of Mexico City.”

“Woah, she’s hot.” You nodded, slightly impressed. “And this dress… Seems like it perfectly matches her style.”

You motioned to the dress you wore. It was a tight, short black silk dress with a 4 inch slit up the right side that showed off your body beautifully. The chest of the dress hung perfectly to keep you covered but still catch attention. The straps were silver jewels in a halter style while additional pieces of thin black silk stretched across your back in a criss cross pattern.

“She's also a bit sadistic.” Zemo added nonchalantly. “But I’m sure you’ll play that just fine.”

“Fun.” You nodded.

“She kinda does look like you.” Sam commented as he leaned over to see the picture while he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket.

“She can’t be that hot then.” Bucky said sarcastically.

“Oh shut up.” You laughed as you pushed Barnes slightly. “You’re just used to girls in the 40’s and the whole modest look, huh?”

“Yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “You ever gonna retire the old man jokes?”

“Maybe, but you have to admit how good I look.” You countered.

“Not a chance, little lady.” He smiled and shot a wink your way as he opened the car door for you.

“Well, Sergeant Barnes, what a gentleman.” You said sarcastically, holding a hand to your chest. “I’m so flattered.” You patted his chest as you sat down, scooting to sit in the middle.

The car ride was quick, although the motorcycles that surrounded your vehicle put you on edge a bit. The cold feeling of Barnes’ vibranium arm pressing against your own arm was the only thing that managed to keep you from burning through the car.

“The bracelet needs to come off.” Zemo pointed out on your walk to the bar.

“Excuse me?” You answered quickly, your opposite hand moving quickly to defend the metal cuff.

“Rosalinda only wears gold. She’s never been seen with anything else.”

“But this bracelet is-“

“Hideous” Zemo cut in.

“No! It’s from my dad, jackass!” You argued and stopped your steps.

“Here, let me have it.” Barnes held his hand out, to which you simply took a step away from him. “Y/N, come on.”

“No, I- I can’t take it off.”

Barnes sighed slightly before sliding two fingers under the collar of his shirt to pull a small chain out. He reached behind his neck to unclasp it before offering it to you. “Put your bracelet on here. Nothing’s going to happen to it.” Barnes explained.

“What are…” You asked softly as you reached for the chain. Your fingers grazed the small metal shapes dangling at the end, turning them so you could read the inscriptions. “James Buchanan Barnes..” You read silently. “These are your tags.. Barnes, I can’t ask you to-“

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“Y/N..” Sam tried gently. “It won’t be that long, I promise.”

“Okay, fine.” You agreed reluctantly. You handed Barnes back his chain before reaching for your cuff. You put two fingers together above the metal cuff, focusing on separating it enough to slide your wrist out. Your eyes lingered on the band of lighter skin that was hidden by the cuff, proving to everyone around you that you never took it off. Once you freed your wrist, the cuff circled the fingers you used to open it. You glided it to hook over Barnes’ chain, connecting your fingers again to reconnect the metal. “Please don’t lose it.. It means everything to me.”

“Trust me.” He nodded as he reclasped his chain around his neck. He tucked the tags and your bracelet under his shirt and patted it lightly. You smiled gently in thanks before turning back to the door.

“Good. Now, escort her in.” Zemo instructed Bucky. Barnes held out an arm for you to take so you looped yours through his, making Zemo click his tongue at you. “Other side.”

“What difference does it make?” You asked in annoyance.

“The Del Santos family -especially Rosalinda- loves to show power.” He explained. “Having the Winter Soldier makes you powerful, but being on that side-“ He pointed to Barnes’ metal arm. “-shows it off… They also know how to barter for that power, if you know what I mean.” He gave you a pointed look and nodded towards Barnes, assuming you would understand what he meant. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but you understood.

“So treat him like a trophy?” You replied with a raised brow as you stepped around to switch sides. “Easy enough.”

“Oh god.” Barnes mumbled under his breath. “Don’t abuse this.”

“I think you’ll like being shown off a little.” You smirked slightly, keeping your head high as you followed Barnes’ lead into the building. “I’ll try not to go too far.”

Like flipping a switch, you fell into character once you stepped into the crowd and instantly made a statement.

“Listo para cumplir, Soldado de Invierno?” You said simply, keeping your head high and shoulders back as you followed Barnes through the crowd.

You heard the whispers, asking if that was really the Winter Soldier. You had to admit, it gave you a feeling of pride in your chest to see everyone look at you in awe. The respect in their eyes when they met yours was interesting. It was different from the respect you got as Y/N Stark. There was an underlying tone of fear in the looks as well.

Your small group stayed at the bar, Barnes kept his head on a swivel while you leaned your elbows on the bar top behind you. You lazily turned your head to check on Sam but saw the bartender slicing open a snake.

“Al menos no tengo que hacer nada que… asqueroso.” You said to Barnes before chuckling. He made a small sound of agreement, the tiniest hint of a smile toying with his features. “Vamos. Diviértete, soldado.”

“Mi misión es protegerte.” He replied in a flat, monotonous voice.

“Ay, díos.” You groaned, turning to face the bartender. “Señor? Bourbon, neat. Please.”

“Since when do you drink, Santos?” He nodded in amusement as he poured your drink.

“Well, it’s been a rough week.” You sighed, lifting the glass in thanks. “Put it on my friend’s tab.” You winked at Zemo before turning back to look at the busy crowd.

“You lot aren’t welcome here.” A bald man came up to Zemo.

“We have no business with the Power Broker.” Zemo started. “But if he insists…”

“He can come and talk to me.” You cut in, resting a hand on Barnes’ shoulder and sipping your drink. “Or bring Selby for a chat.” You shrugged.

“What do you know about the Power Broker?” Sam asked when the man was out of earshot.

“Here he is judge, jury, and executioner.” Zemo said quickly.

“We’ve got company.” You said into your drink. You set the cup down and cleared your throat. “Soldado de Invierno, hora de ir a trabajar.”

The man reached a hand for your shoulder but was instantly snatched by Barnes. You had to give it to him. He was a very convincing actor. It seemed easy for him to slip back into that person, to become the Winter Soldier. You knew it wasn’t really him, but the violent scene in front of you was hard to deny.

Sam saw it too. He looked to you in concern, hearing the same click of the guns that you did. You easily took the few steps to stand between him and Zemo.

“Don’t worry.” You said simply, maintaining the cocky smirk you wore as Barnes did his work. “He’s got this.. But that’s not what that look is about, is it?” You glanced at Sam and saw the expression on his face. It held concern for Barnes but also the flash of a memory when the Winter Soldier attacked you all after the UN bombing.

“You break character and this whole bar is against us.” You used your glass to cover your lips while you spoke. “I don't like this either but-

Before you finished your sentence, Barnes slammed a man on the bar top by his throat. You instantly slipped back into character to respond.

“Buen trabajo, querido soldado.” You giggled with a pat on his chest. He let the man go as the bartender told you Selby was ready. You swallowed the rest of your drink before putting the cup back on the bar.

“Vamos.” You nodded. Barnes held an arm out for you to take, which you quickly did.

“You okay?” Sam asked Barnes quietly as you followed Zemo to Selby. A sharp nod was the only response Sam got.

You let Zemo talk to Selby since you had no idea who the woman was. You stayed towards the back of the room with Sam and Barnes, your arms still linked. The cold metal against your arm was the only thing that kept you from bursting into flames.

It was easy enough to be Rosalinda. Confident, powerful, demanding respect, beautiful and a little flirty. It mildly shocked you that you could play into her sadism. You didn’t know where you pulled that from. Maybe Nat taught you better than you thought. Outside of that, Rosalinda was close enough to a Stark that you didn’t feel like you were pretending too much. And lucky for you, you learned Spanish as a child. It was the people that knew her that worried you. One wrong mannerism, one wrong saying, and the whole thing was blown.

“What’s the offer?” Selby asked after an attempted flirt with Sam. You caught Zemo’s signal, a silent attempt to tell you it was your turn.

“I suppose it’s more my offer.” You spoke up.

“I didn’t know Calvillos travelled this far.” Selby smiled mischievously.

“Well I heard you like to play hard ball.” You said with a sly smile. “Del Santos can play too. My offer is him. The Winter Soldier, el soldado de invierno.” You offered confidently, walking a small circle around Barnes. “And the words to control him, of course.”

You traced your fingers along his shoulders, across his back and down his metal arm. You felt him tense under your touch, but his demeanor never faltered. “He will do anything you want.” You added, facing Barnes and gently running your hands down his arms. “I’m sorry.” You whispered honestly. Your expression reset to a playful pride as you spun to take your original place beside Barnes and watched for Selby’s reaction.

“This is a fun surprise. I’m glad I didn’t kill you all immediately.” She said happily.

“You have information I want.” You stepped in front of Barnes, blocking him from her line of sight. “You give me everything I need and I give you him.”

She bit her lower lip as she smiled. Her eyes looked Barnes up and down, and it made you want to gag.

“Hello? Are we going to do business or are you going to ogle him all night?” You asked in annoyance as you crossed your arms.

“A bit testy tonight.” She said with an entertained smirk and your pulse jumped. “You were right to come to me.” She said with a nod. “The serum is here, in Madripoor. You’re gonna want to talk to Dr. Wilfred Nagel. Power Broker had him work on it but it didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still here?”

“Crumbs for free but the bakery will cost you.” She wagged a finger at you. “And before you get cute, you can’t find Nagel with me.”

Before either you or Zemo could offer a rebuttal, Sam’s phone went off. You felt in your bones that it wasn’t going to work out well if he answered that call.

As Sam was on the phone, which Selby made him answer on speaker, she circled you and Barnes. You nodded towards Sam, allowing Barnes to take a few steps away from you.

Before you knew it, your cover was blown and the shot rang out. Selby was dead and the boys easily took down the other two guys in the room.

“This is going to come back to us.” You said as you stood on the other side of the room, as far from her body as you could be.

“Just drop the weapons and follow my lead.” Zemo said, trying to gain control of the situation.

Without other options, you all followed Zemo out and through the streets of Madripoor. Every turn you took, you felt more and more eyes upon you. Phones buzzed every second and you could only assume it was word spreading of Selby’s death.

“I don’t like this.” You muttered.

As soon as the words left your mouth, gun shots sounded. Barnes grabbed your hand and began running with you following close behind. You ducked the shots and grabbed Barnes’ hand a little tighter. You turned to see Sam struggling to keep up.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled.

“Try running in stilettos and a mini skirt.” You replied in annoyance.

“You want to stop them?” Barnes tried.

“I can’t really focus right now.” You answered with an eye roll. You were going to stop and try lifting a rock wall behind you or creating a gust to push them back or even try to summon a quick lightning burst.

Shots came from a high window and took out the two men behind you before you tried to fight back. Zemo came out from behind a dumpster and made a stupid comment about a guardian angel.

“What a coward.” You sneered, Barnes holding you back when you made a move to slap the Baron.

“This is too perfect.” A familiar voice came from the shadows. You pulled away from Barnes and called a small flame to your palm. “Drop it, Zemo.”

“Sharon?” Barnes asked.

“You cost me everything.” She ignored you guys. You didn’t let the fire go out.

“Wait, Sharon.” Sam tried. “Someone recreated the super soldier serum. Zemo had a lead.”

“That explains why you guys are here and why Selby’s dead.”

“Why are you here?” You asked carefully.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” She scoffed. “And I took the wings for your ass-“ She pointed her gun at Sam. “-so you could save his ass-“ Her gun pointed to Barnes. “-from his ass.” Her gun landed on Zemo. “I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m in Madripoor.”

Sam tried reasoning with Sharon but got nowhere.

“We need your help.” You tried and let the flame in your palm die out. “Please. We- We didn’t have any other options…”

With a heavy sigh, Sharon told you all to follow her. You were the first to follow her footsteps. After a second, the other three came behind you. You were questioning the timing of Sharon’s reveal, but overall you were grateful she showed up. Things weren’t looking great up until then.

“Seems like being on the run treated you better than it treated Sam.” You commented as you looked around at Sharon’s place.

“If I was going to be a hustler, I was gonna live like one.” She said, a hint of pride in her tone.

The three boys then talked about the art, and whether it was real or fake. Sam didn’t believe them until a quick google search told him the truth. Sharon made you all change your clothes, pulling out a whole rack of clothes for the boys to look through and letting you sift through her closet.

You decided on a fitted maroon wrap-style dress. It was a soft material, fitting the curves of your body perfectly. The spaghetti straps criss-crossed behind your neck. You kept your same black heels and made your way back to the group and took a seat with Barnes on the couch.

Sam and Sharon talked a bit, ridiculing the idea of heroes. She called it hypocrisy, claiming that’s why Sam gave up the shield.

“Wow.” You teased as you sat. “You clean up nice, Barnes.”

He smiled slightly at you. “Hey, I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” He said simply.

“Huh?” His statement took you by surprise. It wasn’t the response you expected. “Right. Yeah, I learned it when I was a kid. Dad tried to teach me French but Spanish was more natural cause my mom's side of the family.”

“You look good too, by the way.” He added and gave you a slight nudge. “Cause I know that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your face.” He said simply. “You give away a lot of emotions in your face.”

“I do not!” You insisted quietly with a chuckle, smacking his arm.

“Yes, you do.” He laughed with a nod.

“Wait a second…” You paused, crossing your legs and leaning towards him. “Were you just nice to me?” You teased with a wide smile.

“Don’t push it.” He chuckled.

“Hey... I’m sorry about using you as bait with Selby. I figured that’s what Zemo was hinting at… It didn’t seem like there was any room for me to say no.” You said honesty. The look in his eyes when you dangled him in front of Selby, you could tell it brought back so much of his trauma. That inability to say ‘no’. You truly had felt wrong for doing it. “I shouldn’t have-“

“Y/N.” Barnes said and put a hand on your leg. Your words were cut off instantly. “It’s alright.. It was for the mission.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” You said softly. “You’re not just an asset or a trophy. You’re my friend.”

“How is the new Cap, by the way?” Sharon asked, drawing your attention.

“Don’t even get me started.” Barnes shook his head.

You dropped your head back to look at her over the back of the couch. “He thought he could bail me out of jail and we’d be best friends.”

“He really thought you needed bail money? ” She laughed as she came around to sit with you two. “And you. You were Mr. America before you were his pet psychopath.” She told Barnes. “Cap’s best friend.”

“She’s kind of awful now.” Barnes said to you.

“She was always kinda awful.” You mumbled while Sam refocused everyone.

“You guys shouldn’t be involved in this.” She said, as if she was warning you. “For your own safety.”

“We got a name.” You added, not leaving any room for discussion. Something about the way Sharon talked to you led you to hold suspicions. “Wilfred Nagel.”

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” She explained.

“I can get your name cleared, Sharon. But we need your help.” Sam tried.

“I don’t buy that.”

“They cleared the bionic staring machine and he killed almost everyone he met.”

“I heard that.” Barnes said, which drew a small laugh from you.

“I don’t trust charity.” Sharon countered.

“Let’s call it a deal then.” Sam offered.

“Fine.” She shook Sam’s hand. “Lay low. Enjoy the party. And stay out of trouble.”

“I do like a good party.” You smiled as you stood. You held a hand out to Barnes, who groaned before pushing himself up.

He held an arm out to you but before you took it, you turned to face him straight on. You casually adjusted his suit jacket before your hands moved across his chest. Your hands went to his neck while he watched your hands carefully. You slid both pointer fingers under the collar of his shirt and he tensed slightly. You pulled his chain out and held it with one hand and used the other to release your bracelet. You fit the metal cuff back to its rightful place on your wrist with a proud smile.

“Didn’t give anything away that time, did I, James?” You said quietly, shooting him a quick wink.

“Shall we?” You asked happily, turning to face Zemo and Sam.

Even though you had a point in being in Madripoor and it definitely wasn’t a party, you were excited for the party. It would be nice to relax, not feel any guilt over your father. Any grief over Nat. Any anger at John Walker. And stress about being an Avenger. You could just be a twenty one year old kid and have fun for the first time in what felt like ever.

You lost the boys in the crowd rather quickly. But it wasn’t a heavy thought in your mind to stay with them. What seemed to bounce around in your brain were your interactions with Barnes through the day. You couldn’t quite figure out if you were flirting with him intentionally or just habitually.

You brushed it off temporarily as your personality. You were a Stark after all. And Starks tend to flirt with anyone… Right?

Regardless, you weaved through the crowd and let yourself enjoy the party for a moment. You enjoyed the music, letting your body sway and spin with the vibrations. It was hard for you to tell where anyone was through the vibrations of the floor with the vibrations from the speakers, but you told yourself that wasn’t your problem. Barnes and Sam would be fine for a little while. You weren’t sure how long you had been dancing when you heard the boy beside you.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” A boy said from your side.

Turning, you were met by a very beautiful boy. He was a bit taller than you, dark brown curly hair that fell messily across his forehead. You couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, only that they were looking at you with admiration. You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’m just passing through.” You answered vaguely. Given your previous escapades through Madripoor, you wanted to be as discreet as you could until you were able to leave.

“You come with anyone?”

“Just a few friends..”

“No boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend?” You repeated with a laugh. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Girlfriend?” He tried.

“No.” You laughed slightly. “I’ve been out of the dating game for a few years, actually.” You snapped your fingers to show what you meant.

“You’re too pretty to be at a party alone.” He shamelessly flirted.

“Well I’m not alone.” You corrected. “This is actually a friend’s party.”

“Your friends with the Power Broker?”

Before you could voice a response, a hand found your arm. You quickly looked over and saw Barnes at your side, only his eyes weren’t on you. They were on the new guy.

“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend?” The boy said nervously.

“Come on, Sarge.” You chuckled, noticing the staring and tense shoulders resembled jealousy. But for Barnes, distrust and suspicion was a more likely reaction. “It was nice to meet you.” You told the kid before pushing Barnes to move.

You couldn’t help but wonder… If the party was the Power Broker’s, but Sharon was hosting like it was her party.. Could Sharon be the Power Broker? Or closer involved than she led you to believe at least?

The next morning, you were all walking through an old shipping yard. Sharon was smart enough to grab you a more practical outfit, a skinny fit pair of black pants and a fitted light blue long sleeve and better shoes. You followed Sharon’s lead to crate. While she stayed for lookout, your group of four went in.

You knocked with one hand and felt the vibrations change at the end. You nodded towards the back of the container so Zemo went to take a look and exposed a secret door.

Sam and Barnes went in first, you behind them, and Zemo behind you. The guys tried to get you to take a gun but you adamantly refused, telling them you were a terrible shot and you had weapons of your own. Sam tried talking to Nagel, but he tried to run instead. Instantly, Nagel froze when he saw Barnes.

“You know who he is, right?” You chuckled, something intimidating dancing in your words. It was something you normally didn’t hear in your voice. You usually weren’t the intimidating type but things were different…You were different. “There’s Baron Zemo and me… Well, you’ll see.”

“How about a counter proposal?” Nagel tried. You ignored Sharon’s warnings in your ear. “Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”

“Your life isn’t enough?” Your brows raised as you challenged him. You nodded slightly before raising your hand. Your fingers lazily pointed straight up as you grabbed hold of Nagel’s blood. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, do you?”

“Maybe she’s the intimidating one.” Zemo said, an odd respect in his voice.

You forced Nagel to his knees while Sam kept his gun pointed at him. “I can manipulate air too… I wonder if I could pull it from your lungs since you refuse to talk.”

“Okay, okay!” Nagel broke and told you the whole story after you released him. You were getting good at your new blood trick, and that mildly worried you but you had to push it to the back of your mind. Parts of his story included Siberia, an American who you could only assume was Isaiah Bradley, the Snap, and the Power Broker.

You caught the name Donya Madani, committing it to memory. If she was someone Karli wanted to help, she was someone that could lead you to her.

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Barnes asked. When Nagel didn’t answer, he pressed the gun to the man’s temple.

“No!” He said quickly. “But would she-“ He gestured to you. “-be incredible with it.”

“Thanks, but that’s a question I don’t need answered.” You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall behind you.

“The pure power you hold..” He continued and let out a devious chuckle. “You’re not at all curious?”

“I’m not the kind of person who deserves it.. Trust me. There’s probably as much blood on my hands as his.” You nodded to Barnes. “Just different motives.”

“Aren’t you tired of depending on them to help you? To save you?”

“I know my value. Anyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.”

The rest happened too fast to process in that moment. Sharon burst in. Zemo shot Nagel and that drew an interesting reaction from Sharon. And an explosion went off. Barnes had pulled you out of the way before you could get caught up in the blast.

Your head spun mildly from the quick movement and your ears rang violently. You tried to shake it off but that seemed to only make it worse. You felt a warm stream down the side of your head and realized a loose piece of shrapnel had sliced your forehead.

“You alright?” Barnes asked, helping you to your feet. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Yeah.. Yeah, I’m fine.” You nodded, mildly disoriented. Looking around, you saw the smoke gathering in the room. You put a hand above your head, using it to keep the smoke at the top of the room.

“Ah shit.” He muttered, pushing the loose hair out of your face. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hand away. “We gotta go. These chemicals are going to go off any second and I doubt I can save us from that.”

You got Sharon to her feet while Barnes got Sam. Sam asked about Zemo, but that was the least of your concerns. You four had to get out of there before you were trapped.

You tried using your powers to move the shipping containers or pull a piece of the wall apart but it was too heavy to do in such a hectic environment. There was too much going on for you to really focus. Once you were out, the boys started arguing about whose fault it was.

“Not the time!” You shouted at them, your back against one of the fallen containers. “We’re blocked in and you three are out of bullets. So either I can try to handle this or we stay here and get caught. Either way, you need to zip it so one of us can come up with something.”

“Just use your pow-“ Barnes tried.

“I can’t do anything when you’re this loud!” You snapped. “Besides, the containers are too heavy. I’m not strong enough.”

You thought out loud to yourself. “I could try a concrete wall but I don’t know how long I can hold it if I’m worried about getting shot.” You chewed your lower lip in contemplation. “I’m too far to try the blood thing… They’re firing too many bullets for me to redirect back… What if I…”

It was so much easier when you had your dad to talk things out with. When you had someone smarter than you and could see a different angle, who could run the numbers and tell you your best chance, everything was so much easier.

“How are you going to handle it then?” Sharon challenged with an eye roll.

“You really don’t know a thing about me, do you?” You laughed in disbelief.

Before she could offer a rebuttal, there was another explosion. A smirk found its way to your face as you got an idea. You quickly hopped the barricade your group was stuck behind, despite the protests from Barnes and Sam. You slid under a hanging metal beam and popped up by the explosion. You shaped the flames away from you four and pushed it towards the people shooting at you. You used what was left as a wall to give you cover for you to get away.

“That’s how I’m going to handle it.” You said with your trademark Stark pride as you met back up with the group.

“You could've got yourself killed.” Sam reprimanded as you four had to duck into a separate container after a gunshot nicked your shoulder. Barnes launched a metal pole through one of the shooters’ shoulders like a javelin before shutting the door behind him.

“Okay.” You groaned, lighting a flame on two fingers. “That could've got me killed.” You ran the flame gingerly along the graze in an attempt to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding.

“You’re an idiot.” Barnes grumbled.

“Who just saved your ass, huh?” You challenged as he opened the door when the shooting stopped.

“When are you gonna realize you’re not indestructible?”

“When are you gonna realize who you’re talking to?”

The heavy roar of an engine drew your attention and interrupted the sudden tension. The tension and attitude dissipated as soon as it came but you could tell it wasn’t going to be the last time that grievance was brought up.

“Supercharged.” Zemo said proudly as he pulled up in a sleek black car.

You let out a low whistle and nodded in approval. “She is a beaut.” You commented with an amused laugh. “Would it be wrong if I kept her after this?”

“You’re going back to jail.” Sam told him. “And you-“ He told you. “-aren’t keeping the car.”

“You’re no fun... Shut up and get in then.” You rolled your eyes. As Barnes climbed into the front seat, you went to the driver’s side - as if proving a point that you didn’t want to sit behind Barnes - and hopped over and into the backseat. “We still need him.”

Sam got in on the other side and after a quick conversation with Sharon, you were ready to go.

“You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?” Sam asked.

“No.” Barnes said simply. You rolled your eyes at his childish antics. You leaned forward and tugged his sleeve to get his attention.

“Move your seat up.” You insisted.

“I’m not gonna move my seat.”

“Why not?”

“He didn’t move his seat for me so I’m not-“

“Solo tienes que mover el maldito asiento, Barnes.”

“No me voy a mover“

“Venga, muévete.”

“Por qué debería?“

“Cállate y mueve el maldito asiento. Hmm?” You patted his chest before leaning back. Barnes scoffed, but slid forward slightly.

“Okay…” Sam started, leaning closer to you to speak quietly. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m fluent in Spanish.” You shrugged as you leaned to the middle and spoke in the same hushed tone. “Dad taught me when I was eight-ish. I use it for fun or when I’m trying to prove a point, hence the conversation you just saw. Why?”

“Not that… That.” He gestured to you with one hand and to Barnes with the other. “You guys have been flirting since-“

“Nope.” You shook your head and sat back again. “I’m not talking about that.”

“But you were! Why else would he listen to you?”

“What are you guys talking about back there?” Barnes tried.

“It’s above your pay grade, Barnes.” You answered without thought. “Anyways, Sam.” You turned back to Sam. “I’m a Stark. If there was any flirting, it’s harmless. Starks flirt with everyone.” You shrugged innocently.

“Mhmm.” Sam said unconvinced. “If you guys end up together and-“

“If we end up together I’ll be just as shocked as you.” You laughed. “But it’s not gonna happen. I’m pretty sure he hates me, deep down. You saw how he snapped at me a few minutes ago.”

“So just right now and the other day before Walker showed up, right? That’s what you’re basing this on?” Sam asked, gesturing a small circle in reference to the current scenario. You pressed your lips together in a line while you nodded. “But didn’t he make sure you didn’t make it worse after you got arrested?”

“Sure but-“

“Before we ran into Sharon, he reached for you, right?”

“Okay but wait-“

“And he pulled you out of the way of that blast?”

“I see what you’re saying but-“

“And he only seems to get mad at you when you get yourself hurt!”

“It’s coincidental!” You reasoned quickly with your hands up in surrender. “If he’s gonna like anyone, I highly doubt it’s gonna be me. Wanna know why?”

“Enlighten me.” Sam laughed.

“Cause I push every button I can with him.” You explained. “I annoy him and I talk shit to him and I don’t listen to him. I purposefully see what I can get away with. I’m his annoying roommate/best friend.”

“Right… Because that gimmick never leads to anything…” He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Whatever you say, Mini Stark.” He chuckled.

On the flight back, Sam and Barnes sat opposite each other while they talked. You opted to lay on the ground between them after healing your shoulder and other small scrapes, wanting something flat to let your back relax. As soon as you laid down, you felt your spine pop and practically reposition itself.

Your mind wandered back to the same thoughts it kept coming back to, with the newest additions to your messy brain. Your dad, and if you were doing right by him. Steve, and if you lived up to his expectations. Nat, and how she’d be proud to see you utilizing the skills she taught you. The boy at the party, his unintentional implications of Sharon and the Power Broker. And Barnes… Sam’s suggestion that you were purposefully flirting with Barnes had made you rethink your last interactions with him.

There were comments slipped in here or there, sure. You had played a bit when you took your bracelet back, sure. But were you flirting? Did you.. Did you have a crush on Barnes? No, no it was all in good fun. You didn’t really know him. Why would you flirt with someone you didn’t know? Right?

“Maybe I should’ve destroyed it.” Sam said, which instantly caught your attention.

“That shield represents a lot of things to a lot of people, including me.” Barnes said quickly.

“Yeah, me too.” You agreed from the floor. “My grandfather made that shield… It holds a special place in my heart, kinda the only physical thing from Howard...”

“The world is upside down and needs a new Cap.” Barnes started.

“And it’s not gonna be Walker.” You added.

“Before you destroy it, I’m going to take it from him myself.” He finished.

“Count me in, Barnes.” You said, sitting up when Zemo came down the aisle. You moved to sit by the side of Barnes’ chair and looked up at him. “In it together?” You asked, holding up a fist.

“Together.” He smiled slightly as he gave you the fist bump you waited for.

“Thanks, by the way.” You added softly as Zemo muttered something. “For keeping this safe-“ You shook your wrist. “-and for getting me out the way of that blast. I could’ve died but you didn’t let me.”

“I told you I wouldn’t let you die, Y/N.” He nodded. “You trust me yet?”

“Hmm, getting there.” You pondered playfully. “You’re making good progress, but it depends on if you’re still mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You yelled at me..” You realized how silly it was once you said it.

“You could've gotten hurt or even killed and I- I can’t have your blood on my hands too..”

“I know I’m not invincible…” You admitted heavily as you looked between Sam and Barnes. You knew Sam worried about you too, but he and Barnes had different ways of showing it. “I know I’m not Iron Man, but… But that’s the way I’ve always fought. It’s how I learned to fight. One time Steve told us ‘If you get hurt, hurt them back. And if you die, walk it off’.”

“Of course he did.” Barnes chuckled as Sam smiled fondly.

“It’s what I've always followed. So yeah, I’m a little reckless but I can heal myself so I never worried… But I guess I can try to be more strategic if it would make you guys feel better.” You offered with a small smile.

It was nice to know you had people watching your back, two people by your side that would seemingly burn down the world if it took you. You felt safer than you had with anyone since your dad.

“Why do you call him Barnes?” Zemo asked suddenly. “I thought you were all friends.”

“Wait. Does it bother you?” You wondered honestly, looking to Barnes.

“No, just a little different.” He answered with a small shrug.

“Dad always called him Barnes. Not James, or even Bucky. Guess I picked it up from him. I never really thought about it, in all honesty.” You shrugged.

“Yes, but that’s very business.” Zemo continued. “It’s so impersonal. If you two have a good relationship like you claim, or the type of relationship you two display… Shouldn’t you call him something more intimate?”

Using your powers, you plucked one of the ice cubes out of Zemo’s drink and flicked it towards his forehead. It smacked the center and left a wet square on his skin before plopping back in the cup. You smiled in amusement and looked to Barnes, who also enjoyed your little trick.

“Mind your business.” You chuckled, leaning your back against Barnes’ seat. You tilted your head back against the seat too, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh.

“Hey.” Barnes tapped a finger against your forehead. “Don’t sleep on the floor.”

“Stark?” Sam laughed from the other side of the aisle. “Get up, kid. There’s an open seat right here.”

“With the amount of times I’ve fallen asleep on the floor of my dad’s lab or in a desk chair leaning on a lab table or even on the lab table.” You laughed while you stayed in your spot. “This doesn’t bother me.”

“Get your ass up.” Barnes tried again.

“Too late!” You announced, dropping to the ground. “Good night.”

You woke up when you all landed. Even though you had napped on the floor, you didn’t wake feeling stiff or uncomfortable. You followed the boys out of the jet and through the Latvian streets.

It was a beautiful country, as many European countries were. Cobblestone streets that carried vibrations perfectly. Intricate stone buildings that were tall but not towering. Simple painted doors to break monotony.

“I don’t suppose any of you bothered visiting the memorial?” Zemo asked, referencing the memorial for Sokovia.

“I did..” You said softly, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.

“Did you?” Zemo was honestly surprised.

“After my dad’s funeral, when I moved out… There was a gap between leaving and moving in with Barnes. I didn’t know where else to go or who I was without Tony Stark. So I went to the memorial… It didn’t make anything clearer but it reminded me of a lot.”

“I’m sorry about your father.” Zemo said. You swore you heard sympathy playing in his voice. “He had his flaws but he was a good man.”

“Yeah, thanks, you and the rest of the world are sorry.” You said, somewhat bitterly. “He was the only permanent family I had. No one cared about me like he did.” You felt Sam and Barnes shoot you a look of confusion but you didn’t acknowledge it.

“What about the Avengers?”

“Yeah, they were great.” You shrugged slightly. “It just wasn’t quite the same. I was the most important thing to him, you know? Whenever I was feeling off, he was always there with something fun to distract me. Granted, that something fun was usually a new piece of tech he wanted to test, but it always worked to cheer me up. The world misses and mourns Iron Man, the CEO of Stark Industries and Earth’s best defender. No one other than me mourns my dad.” You explained as you noticed a change in Barnes’ demeanor.

“I’m gonna go for a walk.” He announced.

“You good?” Sam tried.

“Yeah. See you in a bit.” He nodded before taking off.

You lingered outside while Zemo went in. Sam turned in the doorway when he realized you hadn’t moved.

“Little Stark?” Sam asked. “You coming?”

“That was weird, wasn’t it?” You commented, pointing in the direction Barnes went.

“Yeah but he’s weird.” Sam chuckled. “You know that…. Oh! I see what this is.”

“It’s not that.” You shook your head with an annoyed sigh.

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“Seriously? He’s our friend.”

“You don’t see me chasing after him.” Sam shrugged. “He’s a grown man, Y/N. If he wants to brood and take a walk, let him.”

“You didn’t see it.. Something caught his attention and made him leave.”

“Well I don’t just stare at him so no, I didn’t see anything.”

“Nat taught me to constantly watch my surroundings. To keep my head on a swivel… He saw something I didn’t, but I saw him see it. I just don’t know what exactly he saw.”

“Just come inside.” He sighed. “You can interrogate him when he comes back.”

“ Or I just go check on him… Cause I’m grown too and don’t have to listen to you.” You said carefully, hurrying after Barnes. You heard protests from Sam but none made you turn.

You made it to the alley where Barnes turned. You knelt at the corner, feeling the ground and knocking your knuckles against the stone. You closed your eyes to focus, picturing Barnes and an incoming familiar figure. With an amused smile, you turned the corner.

“Ayo.” You said happily. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“You followed me.” Barnes said, moderately annoyed.

“You made it easy enough.” You muttered before turning to the Dora.

“What brings you to Latvia?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Y/N.” She greeted respectfully. “I’m here for Zemo.”

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ainketch4869 · 2 years

Text

Translate by Mr.Google, again.

I wrote it long time ago…Samifer(Sam/Nick+Lucifer)

From(https://www.pixiv.net/novel/show.php?id=12527485)

———————————————————

Take me to church

Chapter 1: Even if it hurts

The light on the ceiling of the bunker draws a semicircle in the room in a pale orange color, and one sigh that fits into the tile groove, and then the sky sways.

When you put a beer bottle with a book on a large circular table with a map drawn on it, the incoming call will never stop ringing, the screen of the computer with the online article open, the thickness is joint I saw Dean fluttering in the dust of a painful book, but Dean wasn't anywhere. It was not possible to judge how long it had passed since then, from the caffeine-contaminated brain, only irritation was raised, and only the feeling of frustration that was approaching wrinkles, the inside of the bunker was filled with signs of people. Even though I am, the inside of myself is drying out. The lid of the beer bottle was opened using the streaks of the table, and the distorted and bent lid fell to the floor, and the vigorous foam was like sparkling wine on a shirt full of wrinkles. I made a stain. While putting my mouth on the edge of the beer bottle, I compared the screen of the open computer with the message displayed on the smartphone, and all the trembling incoming calls dragged down the feeling of loss as if I grabbed my stomach. ..

The hands of the old clock on the shelf distorted the space with an antique taste as the hands of the old clock clicked after 1 am and the second hand freed the heavy pendulum. There is nothing, there is only me in the center wrapped in orange, which invites my thoughts to a deep, deep bottom. Heavy footsteps echoed from the back of the bunker corridor. It's an unfamiliar vibration, but the familiar sound strokes the surface of the heart. An indistinguishable filled emotion stuck in my alcohol-burnt throat. Eventually, the sound came closer to me. The chair I was sitting on squeaks because of my shoulder-stretched posture. In my memory, everything in my soul was shaped in the room. The fingertip holding the beer bottle bounced.

“Sam”

Nostalgic, the voice is abominable.

The tone, the quivering air, everything was the same, but I felt something was missing. I wondered if he had such a different expression, or if this man was calling me so slowly, only the time that had passed was mourning.

Not like Lucifer.

It was felt many times.

But it's similar.

It erodes in the bloodstream with wrinkles.

Lucifer should have disappeared, but this man in front of him is back. There is still a nightmare that repeats like Tuesday over and over again.

"Nick"

It's the same as when I was in college.

It seems a little old, but the fundamental atmosphere hasn't changed at all.

That tightens my neck, which has changed.Nick was facing me with a rather large backpack in his hand.Slowly place the beer bottle on the table.The sound was transmitted to the grain of wood.

"Going?"

It seemed to me that I blamed him.

The words that came out of his mouth were spit out in a straight line by Nick, and seemed to be drunk.After quietly turning his eyes down, Nick's eyes go up.

It was natural for Nick to leave here, and he knew he couldn't help being in such a place.However, I was wondering if I couldn't say anything like I used to.

It was certain that he was happy because he had only regrets, but it was also certain that everything was buried in the past and nothing remained.The stains made of beer got damp and touched my skin. It was Lucifer's vessel, which is blocking each other. At the same time it was still binding each other here. After all, I didn't know who was drowning. Power was put into Nick's fingertips holding the backpack.

In the eyes of each other, there is unrequited barrenness, and the orange color of the room is bleeding.

",,,Ah"

After a while, a bitter voice came down.

I don't know what to do.Yes, it was written on Nick's face. I didn't understand it myself. Lucifer should have been pleased with his death, but the feeling of loss was heading towards Nick. Nick should have been alive and happy, but the vortex that was trapped and sealed was dug up.

I didn't want to know that he was relieved that he was dead. I still didn't want to think I was dragging. I didn't want to think that Lucifer was better for me. I didn't know which one was hurting me all the time, and I couldn't say the words wrapped in alcohol. You can tell by looking at a beer bottle that is more than half empty that it is correct not to hold back.

Nothing will happen as it is, and I should never meet again. However, we couldn't move with each other. There is a fever between me and Nick. I want to shorten the distance, but I don't want to feel it anymore. The hardened toes and the frozen fingertips were so trapped that there was no excuse. The ringtone of the smartphone rings. Each of the continuous sounds brings me back to reality.

The display is Cass, and I hurried to make a call. While answering with Cass, the consciousness was towards Nick.

Without saying anything, Nick's body leans toward the stairs. Looking up at Nick climbing the stairs, I couldn't stand up.

At least I don't want to see him leave, so I look at the floor. The heavy footsteps stopped halfway through, but I kept facing down and didn't move. There is a bent lid on the floor. I didn't want to think that I was leaving here. From when, such self-questioning and self-answering continues constantly as to when he has been so lonely. Pick up the bent lid that had fallen on the floor. When I scratched the floor with my nails, Gachan and the door opened and closed.

"Sam, what's the sound?"

Cas asks at the phone.

I couldn't afford to answer immediately, and the alcohol made my nose tingle.

Throw the bent lid on the table. I adjusted my breathing and sat down again in a distorted space. The pale orange color has a tinge of humor and makes the letters of the book hazy. I slowly stretched my upper body and tilted my head toward the door at the end of the stairs.

"Nothing"

Words don't get stuck and slip off easily.

That gave me emptiness.

If you find Dean, this will disappear.

After all, Lucifer is dead.

As long as you find Dean, you can live your daily life calmly. Dean and Cass, her mother, Jack, everyone can quietly return to everyday life. I can breathe happily as if nothing had happened.So the lump that is tightening your chest now shouldn't cause any more pain. The door was closed and the beer bottle lid in sight remained bent.

From page 1

#samifer #Samifer #Lucifer #S14E1 #Nick #Nick×Sam #Supernatural #SPN

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sweetwatersong · 3 years

Text

take up the torch rating: g characters: Natasha Romanoff & Clint Barton warnings: none

The red in her ledger is spread out across a hundred books, tucked into a thousand poems. The truth of her past is broken into fragments to make sure in her next life she remembers. To make sure she is ready.

In the snow, in the quiet, one librarian has gathered them all. It's time to wake up again

AO3 link

She stands poised on the edge of the sidewalk, fingers cold where they are gripped around her phone. The text from her roommate apologizing for leaving her stranded in the sudden storm hangs unread on her lock screen.

"God damn it." Her lips bite off the edges of the words cleanly, precise like scalpels, shining and steel like surgical tools. She cannot control the storm, cannot control the roads, but she can control this much. She's always been good at controlling herself.

The librarian stays tucked into the entryway, shoulders braced under his dark jacket, while the wind scatters drifts higher than her knees across the parking lot and the bus stop that will be empty for hours to come.

"Come back inside," he tells her when the snowflakes begin to catch in the curls of her red hair, collecting and running like ice down the nape of her neck.

Slowly, flushed with anger and dismay, she does.

“These look interesting." She surveys the books piled up on the librarian's desk, his hands caressing each like an old friend. Her interest had been piqued by the age of the volumes and their variety. If there was a pattern she couldn't guess it off-hand; it seemed a jumble of titles and subjects that can have no possible connection. Budapest, Children's and Household Tales, The Art of Dramatic Writing. Her own hands are small on the bindings as she glances through them, hovering over surnames and covers with care but not recognition. “Why do you have them?”

"Because they have something in common,” he replies quietly. There's an air of expectation that makes the skin between her shoulder blades prickle. "Since we’ve got time to kill until the snowplows can dig out my car, why don’t you see if you can figure it out?”

"Is that a challenge?" She asks him, amused and intrigued all at once. The tea cup sitting beside her, the grad school homework tucked into her backpack, the slouch of his knit sweater; there is something comforting about them, how they are a solid presence in a world where nor'easters can spin up in minutes, can sweep in from thin air.

He raises a single eyebrow, his answer clear in the quirk of his lips.

Of course.

She considers the stacks, weighing Russian Fairy Tales in her hand as the reassuring air of the library wraps itself around her shoulders and warms her, grounds her.

There are worst ways to pass a few hours, and besides. This feels familiar, this feels expected, like she's been waiting for this all of her twenty-six years of life. It doesn't make sense, but it does, and she opens the first book to its title page.

"Clint," she gasps, the word a stone and anchor on her tongue even as her fingers dig into the desk. There are hands on hers, gripping her wrists, keeping her upright, but as soon as she opens her eyes the librarian pulls away and steps back, holding his hands out to show he means her no harm.

Natasha chokes on a throat gone dry with winter's cold, swallows a laugh too bitter and weak to be let out, because it's Clint. There's never been a life in which he truly meant her harm, and if he ever did he would need to catch her at a worse point than remembering her oath to the Torch. Remembering her life - lives - life?

It's too much, the memories swirling and jostling in the eaves of her mind for space, for order. She drags her focus onto the books scattered in front of her, staring desperately at the black and white print as her mind struggles to contain itself. Herself. Her. It's always been her. All of this is her.

Like the snow falling outside everything finally settles, soft and quiet, as the memories imprinted in the book fall into place.

"Did you find yourself?" Clint asks when she's calmed. His voice is intent and hopeful and not quite right, off enough that another laugh dies on her lips when she looks, truly looks at him. It's his face, his hands, his shoulders under the thick sweater. But there's an emptiness in the corners of his mouth where his self-deprecating humor should be hiding. There's a lack of lines on his face from the ever-present awareness of his surroundings and its threats. There aren't any shadows to his gaze. It's Clint and it's not.

She wonders if she would have that same sense of unsettling déjà vu if she were to take out the IDs in her backpack and thumb through them, looking at the girl who had been Natasha Romanoff until she woke up.

Until she was woken up.

"Yes."

Relief passes over his face, unmistakable and endearing, even as this not-Clint relaxes.

"Then it's possible. Then you did it."

"Clint," she starts to say and cuts off, another girl's loose cardigan hanging off her shoulders, a pea-coat she has never purchased chafing her neck. He sits down in his chair, slumps against the back of it with gratitude and ease. "Have you?" Natasha asks instead, already seeing another table full of books in her mind's eye, Robin Hood and The Far Side and Lord of the Rings opened to let his memories out.

But he hesitates, stills, shakes his head slowly.

"I can't find the books."

How can you know, Natasha wants to ask, how can you say what books are the ones you need? And yet the multitude of tomes in front of her is reply enough, the torch on their bindings a flame in the night; a promise against the destruction that is coming.

"Doesn’t matter," he continues, dismissing himself in a way that makes her sick to her heart. "You're back. You're going to be okay."

Natasha swallows, lips tasting of a chap-stick she's never used before, and all the words fall to ashes in her mouth.

There is no set pattern to their wakings, scattered as they are across the millennia, but there is always a rhythm that feels like the truth. For the two of them it is as simple as the Hawk waking the Spider, as forever standing side by side to help the Torch of Alexandria rage against the darkness. It's the first life where he hasn't remembered before her, though. In the long stretch of her memories it feels like a tenuous foothold. Like a moment where one misstep will lose him forever.

Like last time they may have saved enough of humanity, and yet not enough of his memories.

"How did you know?" She asks in the pale blue glow before dawn, the night air cutting through her coat. He shrugs.

"I don't know. I just knew they told your story. It was scattered, yeah, just bits and pieces stashed here and there. Maybe the authors didn't know what they were doing, or maybe they always meant to bring you back. But when I started reading, I knew what I was looking for, and I kept looking until I found you."

How, Natasha wants to know, fingers curling into fists, when your own story isn't here, when you could have no memory of who I am to you? But this not-Clint is standing by the door, her backpack in his calloused hands and a lopsided touch to his lips, and the answers to her questions will not come.

She has looked, hunting volumes through the university library with nothing more than a vague sense of rightness for what is needed this time around, and despite all her efforts she has no more than a dozen books. If he's right, if they didn't write down enough of his story to make it complete in this era, if the memories she needs were excised or lost and never replaced -

"I'll find you," she promises softly, taking the backpack from his hands with its burden of books she won't let out of her sight. He nods in that rocking motion she knows so well, amused and knowing and already two steps ahead in the game, but this isn't a game.

He's never been a game to her.

"I'm okay," Clint tells her, without alien inflections, with that heart-wrenching voice. "I am, 'Tasha."

When Natasha freezes, from more than the cold on the wind or the snow, he cups her face and runs his thumb over her cheekbone.

"Stay safe," he whispers, and vanishes back beneath the surface of a stranger.

She leaves with her mind and her soul intact, snow catching in her hair as she makes her way to the waiting Uber, and in the curve of her heart there is a fire that has never died.

Ten months later she arrives with the first winter storm, a satchel full of priceless books slung over one shoulder, to look up into a face both familiar and strange.

"I found you," Natasha says, triumphant and fierce, and steps inside.

#avengers #natasha romanoff #clint barton #clintasha #mcu #my writing

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nikkzwrites · 3 years

Text

(They Long to Be) Close to You | Dark Fix-It Fic Series Part 2 | Chapter 4

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah. This is part two of the series! You can start the full series here!

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence.

Word Count: 7.9k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

“From then on, I knew that nothing changes,” the man explained to his son as their carriage went through the Winden woods, “That all things remain. The spinning wheel turns, round and round, in a circle. One fate tied to the next. A thread, red like blood, that connects all our deeds.” The man closed the book and explained to his son, “Ariadae. That was your mother’s favorite play. She surely would have liked to come with us tonight, in the company of such a distinguished young man.” He opened up his watch to see an engraving, “For Charlotte” inside.

His blind son spoke, “Why do we die?”

“The dead are never truly dead,” his father explained, “Maybe they’re not here, now. But everything that once lived, lives on forever. In the eternity of time.”

The old man sat remembering this memory of his father when his carriage stopped. He panicked as he heard his coachmen start to speak to someone. He hid his money away as he held close his mother’s favorite play. As the footsteps approached he asked, “Who is there? Who are you?”

“He who has eyes to see,” The Unknown spoke, “and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret, because if his lips are silent,he chatters with his fingertips. Betrayal oozes out of him at every pore.”

“I…” The old man spoke, “I don’t understand.”

The middle part of the Unknown nodded, “Oh, but you do. You’re going into town to draft a telegram. Because you want to tell the world about us. Are you not?”

The man started to panic, “You’re one of them. A traveler. All those years.” As the man rambled, the Unknown started to take out his wire, “they said my father was insane. But now they are here. The travelers from the future. The world must know that they exist.”

The Unknown shook his head, “What we know… is a drop. What we don’t know is an ocean.” He slowly leaned forward to eand the man’s life.

Eve spoke to Jonas, “The mistake in all of our thinking is that we each believe ourselves to be an independent entity. One self… besides countless other selves.” When Jonas turned to her, she continued, “While, in reality, we’re all just fractions of an infinite whole.”

“What is this place,” Jonas asked Eve, “A copy of my world?”

Eve strolled over to him and asked, “Do you remember what you said to me? Under the bridge? The light. The forest. You. Me.”

“A glitch in the matrix,” Jonas responded. He stared to glare at her and asked, “Why am I here?”

Eve studied him then looked up at the painting, “You and I. Adam and Eve. That’s what we are. A glitch in the matrix. You want to know why you’re here? To save them. Your world and mine.”

“Last night, Kilian Obendorf, Bartosz Tiedemann, Annalise Dahlheim also known as Annalise Kahnwald, and Franziska Doppler, along with Magnus and Martha Nielsen, found an as-yet-unidentified boy’s body on the Doppler property by the forest road. His clothes and the Walkman are from the 1980s,” Ulrich explained with tears in his eyes, “We also found… an ID card on the body.” His eyes shifted to look at the evidence box. Ulrich started to sob and Charlotte walked over to him to give him a hug.

Charlotte turned to Woller and asked, “Woller, may you continue?” She turned to Ulrich and whispered, “Can I talk to you for a second?” Ulrich looked up and followed the woman into the file room. She turned to the defeated man and said, “You don’t have to do this. Woller can do the briefings. I can go to forensics. Go home.”

“I’ve spent 33 years looking for my brother,” Ulrich spoke up against the woman, “Those are his belongings. Those are Mads’ belongings.” He took a deep breath and said, “Someone… Someone kept them all. And then put them on the boy in the bunker. Thirty-three years later.”

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. She asked, “You think it was the same killer? That it’s all connected. Mads, Erik, the boy in the bunker?”

Ulrich looked at her and asked, “Do you know why I joined the police? When my brother disappeared… they made pretty much every mistake you could imagine. The detective was a drunken moron. And me? I swore I’d do it all differently. That I’d do everything right. That was 33 years ago. And what do I do? My marriage is ruined and now I’m cheating on the woman I cheated on my wife with.” Ulrich sighed as Charlotte touched his face, “I can’t do this anymore.” He allowed her to remove her hand and he walked out of the office.

Jonas looked up to see Bartosz strutting in with Martha slowly approaching behind him. Jonas stormed to Bartosz and demanded, “Where were you?” His eyes turned towards Martha and turned back to Bartosz to ask, “What did she tell you?”

“We’ve been stuck here for weeks,” Bartosz responded to the man, “The fucking device is empty. You have no idea how any of this works. All you did was lie! You knew what would happen, and you told us NOTHING!”

Jonas growled, “Don’t you realize she’s just using you?” He motioned towards the girl and spoke, “That isn’t Martha. She’s dead.” His heart ached at his memories, “No one returns from the dead.”

Magnus spoke up and said, “Whoever she is… she may be our only chance to get out of here.”

Bartosz grit his teeth then asked Jonas, “Why don’t you tell us the truth?” When Jonas didn’t say anything, Bartosz stepped closer and growled, “Tell them who really killed Annalise and Martha.”

Jonas’s eyes flinted to Martha then down after hearing Bartosz. He sidestepped and started his way out of the warehouse. Bartosz growled and waited for a moment before going and chasing him outside.

“Bartosz! Wait,” Magnus called as he and Franziska chased after him.

The rain fell as Jonas walked outside. He silently thanked the God forsaken town for complying with his emotions before he heard Bartosz screaming behind him.

“Tell them,” Bartosz demanded. He growled as he pushed the man over, “Tell them who Adam really is!” The two rolled around fighting just as they did 34 years ago before Magnus and Franziska pulled them apart. Magnus held Bartosz back as he screamed at everyone, “I told you all along! Jonas is to blame for everything!” He fought Magnus off and stood away from everyone as he cried, “It’s him. He’s Adam!” When Magnus looked at him in disbelief, Bartosz screamed through his tears once more, “He’s Adam! Adam wasn’t even the one who killed Annalise! It was just him proper! He killed both of them!” He stormed away from the group after asking Jonas, “Couldn’t have both so killed them both? Huh?”

Jonas and Magnus tried to catch their breaths and exchanged a look.

Eve, at the same time in another universe, told Jonas, “In all of that, didn’t you ever wonder, why you can’t let go of them, of her? You knew, you know it’s impossible. Yet still, you can’t let it go.” When Jonas turned to her with tear filled eyes, she continued, “An invisible bond that binds you for eternity. Adam tried to sever it. But that’s impossible.” She took out a silver tree of life necklace and showed it to him, “You gave this to me.”

Jonas took out his Annalise’s necklace and rubbed his dirt covered fingers over it, cleaning the blood off of it.

“You and I,” Eve continued, “Black and white. Light and shadow. We are bound together for eternity in this eternally repeating deja vu.”

Jonas whispered, “What is all this? What do you want?” His voice started to get louder, “Why don’t you just tell me why I’m actually here?”

“You’ve seen what you’ll do,” Eve tried to reason with him, “What Adam will do. If you want to save your Annalise, you have to choose the side of light. And you have to make me what I am today.”

Jonas slowly approached her, “I have to? I don’t have to do anything anymore. I’m sick to death of always having to do things!”

“Then ask yourself,” Eve responded, “what you want.” Watching his face change she asked, “Do you want her to live?”

Annalise awoke, yet she was still face to face with Mads. She screamed and started to cry again. She kicked the small enclosure entrapping her with the dead boy. She heard a very familiar voice call her name. Then Mads slowly turned to Mikkel then to her father. After that, Annalise found herself listening to her father’s voice message and words flowed out of her mouth without consent, “I just called to let you know I had my first kiss today.” Her tears choked her as her voice continued against her will, “I wish you could have met him Dad. His name is Adam and he reminds me so much of you and mom. You would love him just as much as I’ve fallen for him.” As she looked out the window, her vision faded to black. Her throat feeling like it was being filled with water again. When Annalise tried to scream, she found herself in something like a mirror of Martha’s room. Annalise turned and saw a blond boy there laying next to her, fast asleep. He seemed so familiar. Her hand shakely reached out and his name spilled from her lips without knowing, “Jonas?”

Right when the boy was about to turn, Annalise shot up in her bed in Ulrich’s house. Her breath shaking from terror and crying. She turned towards her phone to see Bartosz had tried to call her. There was a text there saying, ‘If you need to talk, let me know.’

Hannah burst into the room, “Annalise!” She quickly waddled to the girl and held her closely as the teenager started to scream, “Shhhh… It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.” Hannah kissed the girl’s head as she rocked with her, “I’m here.” As she rocked the girl, her eyes started to trace the electrical burn scars on the teenager, yet she said nothing.

Martha stared up at the ceiling in her room. After finding the body last night, it was the last straw and Katharina forced her to come back home to be with her family instead of staying the night with Annalise. When Ulrich was finally able to come home that night, he drove his daughter back to his ex-wife. She sighed remembering that argument and the one before it where Hannah, her, and her mother argued about where Martha should be with as Annalise stood there just zoning out repeatedly and mumbling to herself some physics equations. Katharina had only conceded from seeing Annalise and knowing that the girl probably needed someone. So she made the condition that once Ulrich was back home, he was to bring Martha back. She heard the doorbell ring and sighed as she got out of bed. When she answered the door, there in front of her was Ulrich. “Dad,” she asked in disbelief.

“Can I come inside,” he asked his daughter.

Martha sighed and begrudgingly allowed the man inside. They stood in front of the staircase.

Ulrich asked, “Is Magnus here too?”

Martha studied her father trying to get a read on him, “I think he’s still sleeping.”

Ulrich nodded and told the girl, “You have to tell me the truth. What really happened in the bunker?” When his daughter looked at him again in disbelief, he continued, “What did you see?”

“I did tell the truth,” Martha said, “we went in and the bunker was empty. There was nobody there! Then there was a light. And then this...this body fell down. Annalise fainted at the sight of it.”

“Had you taken anything,” Ulrich asked accusingly.

“What,” Martha questioned him.

As Magnus walked down the stairs, Ulrich asked again, “Did that Kilian kid give you anything?” Magnus just finished walking down the stairs when Ulrich turned to him and asked, “Come on, what did you take?”

“What is this shit,” Magnus sneered at this father, “Are you playing worried father now? Why don’t you ask your precious new daughter?” Martha looked at her brother and shook her head, yet he continued, “You usually don’t give a shit about us!”

Martha crossed her arms and shrugged, “It’s just as we told you. There was this noise...It came from the caves...or the ground,...or… I don’t know. We went to the bunker. At first there was nothing there, then...he...he was just lying there.”

Ulrich turned away and stared out into the dining room calculating what was going on.

“Is that all,” Magnus growled at his father. When his father turned to look at him again, Magnus replied, “Mom will be back any moment. You’d better go. But it was nice of you to drop by to see how we’re doing.” When Ulrich reached up to caress him, Magnus took a step back.

Hannah walked through the halls of the police station with a tray of brownies. When she was greeted by Woller and Charlotte, she asked, “Is Ulrich here? I’ve been trying to reach him all morning. Annalise is having nightmares and just woke up finally.”

Charlotte shook her head and said, “I thought he went home.”

Hannah studied the woman for a second. Her mind started to wonder. “You look so different,” commented the woman, “Did you get a haircut?”

Charlotte shook her head, “No.”

Hannah looked her up and down. She laughed, then hugged the woman. She took her smell in deeply. She pulled away and waited a moment before saying, “It’s nice to see you. I’ll just put this in his office.”

Charlotte turned and watched her go.

Hannah closed the door behind her and walked to place the container on his desk. She looked up as she realized who it was that Ulrich was cheating on her with. She left as the pictures of his children, Annalise with Martha, and herself with him burned their place on his desk.

Annalise sat there staring at the wall. Her brain running six different directions just trying to figure everything out. She ran her fingers through her hair as she screamed. She yelled and closed her eyes. Everything that happened kept running in her head. Her dreams danced in her head. She felt empty. There was a pulling inside of her. She ran out to the woods and screamed again. It felt as if someone was tugging at a string within her. Plucking at it, like a chord of a guitar.

“Can we talk,” Martha asked her brother as she walked in.

Magnus rolled his eyes, “Get lost.” He assumed she was going to scold him about what he said about Annalise.

Martha, instead, walked in and sat next to Magnus, “Last night…in the forest... Did you see anything else?”

“No,” Magnus told her, “Like what?”

Martha turned away from her brother and asked, “Do you sometimes feel like you’re losing your mind? That nothing makes sense anymore?” She sighed and commented, “Maybe… Dad is right.” When Magnus looked at her confused, she said, “Maybe he was already lying there.” She shrugged and said, “And...we…”

Magnus stared at her and stated, “I know what I saw.” Martha and he sat quietly for a minute before she stood up and walked to his window. “Where are you going,” he asked.

“Don’t tell Mom,” Martha replied, “I’ll be back for dinner.” She opened the window and left.

“Everything repeats itself,” Eve told Jonas, “Again and again for all eternity. Because none of us is prepared to let go.” She lifted up a light and walked over to Jonas, “It took me a long time to understand that. That you can’t let go of your past. That you will always choose her, always choose your Annalise.” She nodded and told him, “And just as you can’t let go of your past, I’ve spent my life clinging to mine.” She made a face then told him, “You trusted Adam. But where did that lead you?” She walked to Jonas and said, “You have to show her, Martha, how everything is connected. You don’t have much time left. She has to see her future in order to understand what must be done.” She handed him the lantern and spoke, “She will follow you. She is bound to your fate, just as you are to hers.”

Jonas grabbed it from her and turned away. He looked at Eve and wondered if she knew what he was thinking. He walked out of the office determined to find Annalise before trying to go forward with Eve’s plan.

In Adam’s world, Martha looked down at the necklace in her hand. She quickly hid it after hearing a knock on the door. She pushed herself closer towards the window as she looked to see who was coming in.

Jonas opened the door and closed it behind him. He stood in the middle of the room and said, “You said I was in your world. With you. Why can’t I remember it?”

“I don’t know,” Martha told the man, “That letter… I didn’t write it.” She slowly approached him and said, “You have to believe me.” As he turned away, she spoke again, “Sic Mundus, what is it?”

Jonas sighed, “Old Tannhaus’ father… tried to bring someone back from the dead. His wife. He was convinced that the ability to time-travel would be the world’s salvation. Every mistake could be prevented before it even occurs. But it doesn’t bring salvation. Only Damnation.”

Martha took a deep breath and growled, “They’re all dead. In my world. I can’t help hoping I can change that.” He glared at her as he tried to walk away, but the girl grabbed him, “I know you think you can’t trust me. I want to prove to you that you can.” She brought him out into the woods and unburied her ball to show him the device she used to get there.”

“This is what you used to travel,” He asked.

Martha nodded at him. She undid a dial and took out a small dark ball, “this is the last one I have.” She held it out to him, “It’s the only way I can go back again.”

Jonas sighed as he took it from her.

Eve sat in her office waiting for her son and Mary. The Unknown walked in with all materials he had grabbed for her.

The Unknown told his birth mother, “You could have told him which path you’re sending him down. How it will end.”

Eve shrugged as she explained, “He will never stop trying to break this cycle. He’ll never understand that we must preserve the knot. That his Annalise must die. So all the others can live.”

She stared at her son as she opened the leather planner, “The beginning and the end.”

Jonas walked out of the cave and through the woods. He heard sobbing and screaming he only knew as Annalise and ran towards it.

Charlotte walked to the bunker and called Ulrich. She asked him to call her back as she approached the door. She opened it up and walked inside. She stared at the chalk outline and started to investigate. When she knelt down, under a bench she found a penny with a red string around it as if like a necklace.

On the other side of town, Helge sat repeating to himself, “Tick tock. Tick tock.” He looked up and started to walk out of the house to try to stop it.

Bartosz exited Mary’s car. He sighed and looked towards the power plant. As his eyes scanned, he noticed a figure stumbling across the street. Normally he wouldn’t think anything of it, but it looked very familiar. The beating of his heart echoed in his ears when he realized just who it was. He jogged across the street and called, “Anna.”

Jonas was just about to interrupt the girl’s drinking when he heard Bartosz’s voice. The boy had been following her for a while, but he didn’t know how to approach her, so instead he just decided to watch her from afar. He slunked back into the shadows right out of sight of the two. His heart raced. He knew what was going to happen.

Annalise took another large drink of her mixed drink a very kind older man had given her. She smiled gently. It reminded her of the drinks she heard about back home. Fruit punch, Red Bull, vodka mixed in the right fashion still only seemed like fruit punch. He had given her a large bottle just with a few bucks and for “looking cute.” She drank as she made her way to the bus stop out of Winden. The burning sensation masking her brain being torn apart at the seams.

Bartosz easily caught up to the girl and grabbed her arm, “Anna! What are you doing, idiot?!” He kept a firm grip on her. Frustration rose into his chest. Where did she even get what she was drinking? Where was she going? Shouldn’t she be with Martha or nearly anyone else? She never went anywhere alone.

“I’m going home,” she answered simply, “Now please let me go.” She tried to jerk away.

He shook his head, “What are you drinking? Your place is that way.” He gestured with his shoulder towards where she lived with Ulrich and Hannah. He stared at the girl floundering to get away from him. His heart started to ache. More than that. He was angry. Furious even. Filled to the brim with an anger he had never known before.

Annalise started to cry as she tried to tear away from his grip, “Let me go!” She started to yell at him. Tears built up pressure behind her eyes as she remembered back to what had driven her to this point. How she wished for the rain to finally start in this God abandoned town. The wind howled as it shook the trees awake. At least, she reasoned, that was on her side. “Let me go Bartosz,” she repeated screaming at him with the full force she wanted to let out at everyone.

Jonas felt powerless. Here he was watching a mirror of what happened that night. His throat dried up. His heart started to ache. It was being tugged in so many directions. Jonas wanted to interrupt. He wanted to run, yet his feet stayed firmly rooted in the ground. It was as if the Knot wanted him to see this. It was its punishment for him kissing Martha that night. It was punishment for taking Lise for granted.

“No!” Bartosz roared back at her. He pulled her into his arms. His heart raced. He just wanted her to calm down. He knew instantly then that he loved her. All this time was just him lying to himself trying to keep the status quo and hoping things were going to go back to the way they were before his mother died. He wrapped himself around her. Was she always this tiny, he wondered. It was his first time ever fully embracing her. He had to bend down a bit to bury his face into her shoulder and neck. Oh, how it felt nice to finally hold someone, to hold her, in his arms, but he couldn’t dwell on his own happiness. He needed her to be happy. He thirst to see her smiling and laughing again. That happy radiant infectious smile that he loved seeing across her face.

Annalise beat her fists into the taller boy as the tears fell from her eyes. She continued to scream at him to let her go. The girl struggled as he just held her in an embrace. Her breathing was off. The thumping his chest made as she hit it reminded her how her heart felt when they saw the boy just drop in the bunker like that. She just wanted to go back home but she could never tell him that. Annalise hated every moment of this. She hated every moment of Winden. She just wanted to go back in time to right before they saw that moment and never see that poor dead boy just drop...Before she agreed to help that short haired Martha... Before she was trapped with that dead boy...

Bartosz pulled his face away. There was something he had heard Magnus mention before while Mikkel was throwing a tantrum. He needed to distract her from her emotions so that Annalise could actually TELL him what was going on. He sighed knowing he was going to hate himself later for indulging the part of him that loved her without ever telling her that, but he had to do it. With one hand, he trapped her wrists from continuing to beat into his chest. The other he used to grab the back of her head. Bartosz pressed his lips against hers.

The girl froze. His lips were so desperate. She could feel his yearning for her to stop and think about what she was doing. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she allowed herself to kiss him back. There was a saltiness to it, yet tender and warm. Soon, she felt her wrists freed from his grip. She just gently rested her hands against the boy’s chest as his now unoccupied hand found a new home at the small of her back. Annalise’s heart fluttered. She felt as if drunk, longing for love, and finally acquired a bit of that feeling of being wanted.

Bartosz pulled her closer. He clinged to her as they slowly deepened their kiss. They both wanted this for such a long time. He sighed happily as her arms slowly started to snake their way off his chest to around his neck to play with his long hair. He let one of his arms slide under her so that he could scoop her up while they were still making out. He lifted her up into his arms and walked over to the bus stop so that the side of it could be used to stabilize the couple. He pressed her back against it as he could feel the both of them getting weak from the lack of breath and their hearts racing quickly.

The hidden boy’s heart shattered as it fell to the cement. He wondered how much of this was like that night and how much wasn’t. Jonas could see how much heat and longing was between the other two teenagers. They were so desperate for the other one to be close to them that the rest of the world didn’t exist. He didn’t exist. He wasn’t supposed to exist.

Bartosz eventually pulled away gently. Annalise reached up and pressed his forehead against hers. Her eyes closed as the last of her tears drained from her. He calmed himself and asked, “Anna, what’s wrong?” He gently brushed her wild hair from her face, unstuck some strands stuck around her eyes from her tears, and put it in a place not easy to get stuck there again.

Her face contorted in agony. The fountain of sorrow slowly turned back on. Something about this moment felt as if something similar had happened before. It felt as if she, him, the moment, it was all supposed to happen. “I,” she started. She took a breath and then confessed, “I am so scared. What does this all mean Bartosz? There is so much going on in the world now and I’m scared. I don’t know what I’m… I don’t know what role we play in this...” She choked on her words and started to cough.

Bartosz cooed at her and held her close once more, “I know. I know. It’s okay.” He swallowed hard and rocked with her. Bartosz gently kissed her head every so often as he just kept her safe within his arms. The boy just repeated that it was okay, that he was there with her, he wasn’t going to leave her, that everything was going to be okay until he could feel her body start to go limp. She must have been exhausted, he figured. He lifted her up and tried to figure out how to manage her with a bike. In the end, he called his father to come pick them up. He took off the jacket his mother had gifted him and put it on the girl as they waited.

Jonas turned finally unstuck from the Knot. He tracked his way back to where he knew he had to be, with this world’s Martha and to try and fix this world so that his could be fixed and he could go back home to his Lise. Be in her arms once more where she clung to him like that. Where she loved him, when she loved him. Not seeing some stranger with her face loving the boy that shared the same face as his best friend back home.

Martha walked over to Kilian’s trailer and knocked on the door. She stood back for him and spoke, “Hey.”

He responded back, “Hey.”

Martha stood there staring at him.

“What are you doing here,” He asked the girl.

Martha shook her head, “You weren’t at the dorm. I was worried.”

Kilian grabbed her arm and walked with her away from the trailer, “They kicked me out. Your father called. He wanted to know if I slipped you guys something.”

“Did you,” She asked.

“Fuck no,” He gowled, “No, I didn’t.” He shook his head, “But sure, none of you can get it out of your system. I haven’t lived here for two years, but I’m still the trailer park trash everyone points fingers at.” When Martha didn’t respond, he sneered, “I knew it.”

“What did you know,” she asked him.

He shook his head and said, “That you were only with me to rile up your parents. You didn’t give a shit about me or Erik.”

Martha scoffed at him. If she really wanted to do that, she would have just dated Annalise. She turned her head back towards him. She wasn’t really able to fight back though. Maybe she really was and he was just the safe option.

Kilian turned away and told her, “You’d better go.”

Martha fought back her tears as she whispered, “Okay.”

The boy turned and walked away leaving her alone in the park with Jonas there watching.

“About Regina…” Hannah spoke to Aleksader, “I’m sorry. It must be very difficult for you.” She paused, then asked, “How are you? Bartosz?”

Aleksander nodded and told her, “We’re managing.” He turned towards the pictures on his desk and stared at them.

“I…” Hannah spoke, “I hear that Annalise and Bartosz really like each other.”

Aleksander nodded, “My son speaks of her pretty often. Please, tell me why you are here.”

Hannah shifted awkwardly and got to the point, “I’d like to propose a deal.”

“A deal,” he questioned the woman.

Hannah looked down at her purse, “I have something that belongs to you. I’d like to return it.” She carefully pulled out the bag from 1986 and slid it towards him. As his face changed she asked, “Do you recognize it? Don’t worry. The contents are in a safe place.”

Aleksander asked quivering, “What do you want? Do you want money?”

“I don’t want money,” Hannah told him, “I want you to destroy Charlotte. I want her to lose everything. Everything.”

Charlotte drove to the church meeting her husband who was talking to a man inside. When she walked in, Peter stood up.

“Charlotte,” Peter asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Thank you,” The man told the pastor before leaving.

Charlotte slowly approached the man and said, “I tried to get a hold of you. I went to the bunker. Why aren’t you home with Franziska?”

Peter shrugged, “I…”

Charlotte shrugged it off and asked, “Last night, where was Helge? You said you ate dinner with him. Where was he afterwards?”

“What is this,” Peter asked her.

“In 1987, when you came to Winden, did your father still live in the cabin,” she asked the man.

Peter shook his head, “I don’t understand.”

“Did he or didn’t he,” Charlotte pressed on.

“No,” Peter shook his head, “After the accident he was moved into the nursing home.”

“And the summer before, in 86,” she asked.

Peter nodded, “I think so. Why do you want to know?”

“Did he use the bunker for anything?”

“Charlotte,” Peter approached her, “What do you want from me?”

She pulled the penny from out her jacket and showed it to him, “This is Helge’s. I found it in the bunker.”

Peter huffed and shook his head, “That...That can’t be. He was with us all night.” He answered his phone to hear that Helge had left the nursing home. He turned to her and said, “Helge’s at the police station and he made a confession.”

Annalise started to stir as she felt the atmosphere around her change. She was warm and cuddling something soft. This was very pleasant compared to last night and how horribly she slept then. She hummed happily, slowly waking up. She could hear a man and a very familiar boy’s voice talking.

Aleksander looked at his son in the rear view mirror with the girl snuggled up to him. “So,” he started to ask, “Is this the girl?”

Bartosz’s face flushed, “What do you mean?” He asked nervously. He started to awkwardly chuckle, “I mean, it’s just Annalise, Dad. You two have met before.”

“Have I,” Aleksander teased, “I don’t remember you telling me you liked her this much.” He chuckled, “You know I was around your age when I met your mom right?”

Bartosz thanked God that Annalise was asleep and couldn’t hear his father embarrassing him, or so he thought. Bartosz groaned, “You don’t have to embarrass me in front of her do you?”

Aleksander chuckled, “I thought she was asleep.”

“Still,” Bartosz complained. He looked over to the girl cuddled up to his side once more. A small smile graced his lips as he moved some of the hair from her face again. He couldn’t complain too much. The thought of her being like this with any other person ate him inside. So somewhere deep inside he knew that if they were together forever, that he would be happy.

When Peter and Charlotte reached the station, Peter asked his father, “Dad, why are you saying this? It makes no sense at all.” He turned to Woller and explained, “He didn’t leave the house. I was with him all night. Elisabeth was there too.”

Helge spoke again, “I killed the boy.”

“Dad,” Peter scolded the man, “Cut it out!”

Charlotte spoke up, “His things… The walkman. The clothes. Those are Mads Nielsen’s things, the boy who disappeared in 1986. Do you remember that?”

“I killed him,” Helge repeated.

“Who,” she asked, “Mads?”

Ulrich stormed into the station. He turned towards Helge and asked, “Where did you get his stuff?” The man rushed forward and grabbed onto the man despite Peter’s yells in protest, “What did you do to Mads?” He yelled at the older man, “What did you do to him?!”

“You’re alive,” Helge asked, staring at the man.

“What,” Ulrich asked.

Helge spoke, “It was you.”

“What was me,” Ulrich asked, pulling the man out of the chair as the other officers tried to pull Ulrich away from Helge.

“It was him,” Helge spoke, “It was him.” Helge held up the penny in his own things.

Charlotte looked down and unfolded her napkin to see the penny she had was still in her possession. It was the same coin, yet… two places at the same time.

Martha walked in the woods alone. She was determined to try and get to Annalise to talk to her when she heard a rustle in the bushes. When Jonas revealed himself from the shadows, she asked him, “What is this? Are you following me? Why won’t you tell me how we know each other? How you know Annalise?”

“Actually,” Jonas spoke, “You and I, we’ve always known each other.” When Martha swallowed, Jonas approached her, “When Magnus knocked your tooth out in kindergarten… I was there. When Mikkel put spiders in your shoes while camping in the yard… On the third grade class trip… when you were so homesick that Katharina had to come get you. You met Annalise and she told you how your father scared her because she didn’t know German really well to cheer you up on your first day back to school.” He whispered, “Where I come from, you and I share a past.”

Martha shook her head, “You’re nuts.” She turned to walk away from him.

“Last night,” Jonas told her, “in the forest. You saw yourself.” He shook his head and said, “I know how completely insane this all sounds. For the longest time, I too thought it was all totally crazy. That I was crazy.”

“Who are you really,” She asked the boy.

“I can show you,” Jonas explained, “How it’s all connected.”

It wasn’t long before they reached the Tiedemann abode. Annalise knew it was wrong to still pretend she was fully asleep, but when Bartosz scooped her up into his arms to carry her, she didn’t want it to stop. She listened as he mumbled to himself.

Bartosz debated on where to put Annalise, “I could put her in the guest bedroom. But that’s halfway across the house and what if she needs me? I am not going to put her on the couch. I know that much. But… My bedroom… would she be weirded out by that? Would-” He felt her move. He nearly dropped her from surprise. He panicked pulling her closer to him once more. He asked the girl, “Annalise?”

Annalise’s smile couldn’t contain itself any longer hearing his verbal debate. She let out a small giggle surprising the boy. She squealed as she felt herself drop for a moment before he grabbed her once again. The girl clung onto him. She turned to face him once more, “Yes?”

“How long have you been awake,” He asked, walking her into his room and gently placing her on his bed.

Annalise smiled and sat up. Still a little buzzed, she asked, “Do you really want to know?” She looked around his room. It was different. His room was full of dark colors and scattered books, diagrams, and hastily scribbled notes. There was an attached bathroom that seemed nice and light though. Yet still it felt like an empty shell. She yawned and turned to him as he helped remove his coat from her. Her voice strained as she looked at him beggingly, “Stay?”

In the other world, Jonas placed the ball into a large bowl. He walked to the control panel and started up the machine. He stared intently at it as the liquid slowly arose up and formed a ball. Sadly it was not enough energy to hold it.

After it dropped, the group converged on the bowl to investigate. Sensing someone was missing, Franziska looked up and around. After accounting for who was there, she asked, “Where’s Martha?”

The group all looked up to find the girl missing. Jonas, then, knew, she had lied to him.

Martha rushed back to her room and placed a new ball into her sphere and set it to go to her new objective.

The group walked into the bedroom just as she disappeared. Jonas turned to Bartosz and glared at him as if to say, ‘I told you.’

In the other world, Bartosz blushed and took a step back. He blinked wondering if he really heard what she had asked. He dropped the coat in his hands. He shook his head and bent down to pick it up. While he wasn’t staring at her, he asked, “Stay?” He slowly looked up to try and gauge her reaction.

Annalise nodded, “Please?” She grabbed one of his hands and pulled him towards the bed.

Breathless, Bartosz struggled out, “Wait. Just…” He held up the coat once more and slid his hand away so that he could go and put up his coat. His heart raced. He tried to calm himself as his back was turned to her. The boy knew his father wouldn’t care so he couldn’t use that as an excuse. He was shaking with nervousness. He really wished his mom was here so that she could help him with this. Annalise’s small voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Bartosz,” Annalise asked. When he turned his head, she blushed and asked, “Can I have some water?”

Bartosz nodded quickly and rushed out of the room closing the door behind him.

Martha followed Jonas to the cave. Right before she walked into it, she got a text from Annalise and Bartosz. The one from Annalise was her asking if Martha was okay and that Kilian had texted her to tell her what had happened. The text from Bartosz consisted of, ‘Annalise is staying over. Help?’ She shook her head and stared at Jonas.

Jonas looked at her and asked, “Is everything okay?”

Martha nodded, “Yeah.” She hid her heart breaking from the boy and started to follow behind him into the cave.

Helge stared at his hands as he sat in a cell.

Martha and Jonas continued through the caves as Charlotte turned away from Ulrich sitting sadly at his desk staring at the picture of him and Hannah.

Hannah walked into her and Ulrich’s bedroom to see the bed perfectly made up and her husband not there. She turned and walked out the door just as Jonas and Martha approached their door.

Eve looked down in her hand to look at Jonas’s Annalise’s necklace and then looked up at the pictures of Adam and Eve.

Bartosz walked to the kitchen and grabbed her bottled water. On his way back, he saw his dad.

Aleksander could read Bartosz’s hesitation all over his face. He chuckled and sat on one of the bar stools. “Something the matter,” He teased.

Bartosz jumped, “No. No. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s good.” He blushed and tried to stand up taller to seem more confident. He ran his fingers through his hair, “What would be wrong? Everything is perfect.”

Aleksander chuckled, “Maybe the girl in your room?”

“What,” Bartosz unconvincingly laughed, “Annalise?” He shook his head with a giant uneasy smile, “No. There’s nothing…”

Aleksander laughed, “She woke up, didn’t she?”

“She wants me to stay,” Bartosz admitted, “I mean it’s not like it's the first time with someone, but like...What if she doesn’t just want to sleep? In my bed?”

Aleksander leaned on his elbow with his chin in his hand. He chuckled, “Well, it's just a question of if you’d want to, yeah?”

Bartosz’s face glowed, “It’s not just that simple. She’s… I…”

“So you don’t want to,” Aleksander asked.

Bartosz shook his head, “No! I mean… I’d like to, but she’s drunk…” He looked towards his room.

Aleksander nodded, "Well, have you tried talking to her about this?"

Bartosz blushed, "What? No. I… I mean I guess I can. I should."

Aleksander stood up and patted his son's shoulder, "I'm heading to sleep. Stay safe. Pleasant dreams." He walked back to his bedroom.

In the other world, Martha walked through the halls of the decrypted nuclear power plant on September 20, 2053, she walked into a room to be greeted by a gravely voice, “Did you give it to him?”

When Martha nodded, Adam turned to tell her, “I was always too gullible.” He turned back to look at the machine and said, “You did the right thing.”

Back in Eve’s World, Bartosz walked back into his bedroom to find Annalise not there. He heard the shower running and sighed in contentment. He blinked as he realized she didn't have a change of clothes. He knocked on the door and called, "do you need some clean clothes?"

The water stopped and he heard walking towards the door. She peeked her head out the door, "I'm sorry. I stole some of your pyjamas." She walked away to go grab it. Bartosz blushed seeing her naked form from the display of mirrors. He turned away with closed eyes. When she came back, she showed him what she stole. They were his soft plaid flannel ones that he loved. Not that he would admit that he loved them to his friends due to them being part of a matching set for his family and normally worn for celebrating holidays.

"Oh," Bartosz nodded, "okay." He turned away and told her, “You can let me know if you need anything else.”

The girl was very quick to walk out. His pants were extremely baggy on her due to his height over her. She was still buttoning the shirt and seemed to be having a bit of issues. She grumbled at the shirt, “Stupid ass buttons.” Eventually, she got it and smiled up at him, “Thank you.” Her face became a little bit more serious, “You know, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to… I just thought… You know…”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” He said hurriedly. His breath caught in his throat trying to explain, “I just didn’t want to make you feel like I’m taking advantage…”

Annalise smiled gently. She closed the distance between them and kissed him gently. She pulled away and shook her head, “You wouldn’t be. I’ve been wanting this.” She pressed her lips against his once more.

Bartosz smiled against the kiss then kissed her back. He wrapped his arms around her once again. He scooped her up once again. The boy walked them to his bed and gently sat down keeping her in his lap for the moment.

Annalise giggled against his lips and pulled them down so that they were laying down staring at each other. She smiled and asked, “Do you think that people are meant to meet?”

Bartosz nodded, “Yeah. I mean statistically it would be impossible for us to meet any other way.” He pulled them towards the head of the bed when he saw her yawn again. He chuckled, “You’re exhausted. Please allow yourself sleep. I will be right here in the morning.”

She yawned and nodded, “Promise?”

“Promise,” he kissed her head and tucked her in before going to get changed and showered himself.

Jonas walked with Martha into her 2052. He stumbled out seeing it so bright and more like a desert.

“What is this place,” Martha asked the boy as they walked through the blistering heat under the blazing sun. They looked around to see the debris of trees before just seeing a sandpit, “Where are we?” She turned to him and asked, “Did you do this? How did you do that?”

Jonas simply told the girl, “She told me to bring you here. That she’d explain it to you.”

“Who,” She asked. They turned to see a lone woman walking towards them. Martha asked, “Who is that?”

The woman stopped in front of them and took off her wraps to reveal herself, “Welcome to the future.”

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