#featherstcnes

a half empty glass hung forgotten in her hand as the squaller's eyes scanned the room with a dull look. she heard nikolai approaching before she saw him, his voice standing out amidst the mundane chatter of the foreign royals. he must've been speaking to one of their guests, still carrying his usual charismatic smile.

"at least one of us is enjoying themselves," she remarked with no real bite to her tone, head turning slightly to face him. "i hope you've been putting your charms to good use with the kaelish princess." nikolai had told her multiple times now to drop the matter of finding him a wife, but zoya refused to listen. he wasn't taking this nearly as seriously as he should, perpetually confident things would work out for the best for him. zoya knew they couldn't afford such a relaxed approach, not when his life was on the line.

"she's been oggling you all night," she added through gritted teeth, hiding her displeasure behind her drink.

Kinda crazy to think about how after five years of intense guilt, despair, and then the desperation of trying to bring back a dead half of the universe... that they would all end up right back here again. In the heart of Avenger's tower, with familiar voices and laughter brimming to life, within a city that had just managed to rebuild after certain chaos (after scarcely rising from the ruins of their own failures.) The return to mostly-normal should have been comforting, though something as simple as dating felt almost absurd, misplaced against the scale of everything they had survived. A century and more, and still he wasn't sure what he wanted from something he barely believed was meant for him. But the others (hell, even Natasha) seemed determined to remind him that survival meant more than just breathing, it meant trying to wholly live.

"You are from the 40s? It shows with that outfit, dedushka."

Steve shot her a look, but Yelena only smirked wider as she leaned on his doorframe, Ava snorting behind her. He couldn't throw Natasha's sister out, not without consequences, and so he endured until they ultimately grew bored and left with their audible snickers bouncing around the halls. Once they were alone again, Steve wheeled around to face his bedroom mirror, whilst Natasha idly stretched across his bed with her playlist humming in the background. He adjusted his shirt, frowned at the reflection, then glanced out the window at the darkening clouds. ...The last storms of summer were dragging across the sky before autumn could officially arrive, though to Steve it all felt like an omen------------------ this date was absolutely doomed.

"Maybe I should just reschedule," he reasoned, half-convincing himself. It wasn't like he'd ever been good at the whole relationship thing, anyway. Dating wasn't exactly new to him, either, but he could hardly think up a more recent time in which it had been sincerely enjoyable. Some company was just pleasant enough to have... except that he couldn't escape some sort of quiet detachment from it all, like nothing was ever going to be as real to him as his time with Peggy. "You ever have nights like this, or am I the only one overthinking it?" He suspected Natasha was getting a little kick out of his suffering, and that was likely why she was even here.

The edges of her vision are black, and something hurts. Actually, everything hurts. She can feel the fizzle of magic on her fingers, used and depleted. She knows it landed on Fjord, willed every ounce of her strength left to ensure he'd be okay. They needed him. Jester yelps softly, her gaze dropping down to the dagger than currently pinned her to the ground. She had no strength to tug at the hilt, and no magic left to close the wound. She just needed to stay awake until someone else came. Jester turned her head, exhaling deeply. She was so sleepy, it would be so much easier to sleep until someone came for her...Someone would right? Her bottom lip trembled, blue fingertips now stained red.

closed starter for @featherstcnes - Percival de Rolo

Emon. Being back in the bustling heart of Tal'dorei still felt like a dream after breaking free from the hazardous nightmare that had been rescuing Whitestone.

The Briarwoods seemed to have left a mark on all of them, Percy most of all. Vex'ahlia wasn't a stranger to the terrors of the darkness but the Vampire and his necromantically inclined wife might have left even her a little shaken. The keep helped. After they'd cleaned what remained of the destrucion caused by Delilah's minions as well as the city guard truly started to feel like home. Her own room held a specific place for her bow and quiver, there were more then one change of clothes in the makeshift wardrobe and the bed was comfortable. Something inside her couldn't wait to fill it with memories and trinkets from their adventures, even though her own, most important Trinket slept soundly right outside her window.

She wasn't the only one that started to feel more at ease. Percy seemed to barely leave his workshop, always excited for new projects, Scanlan and Grog were out most of the time, surely causing some kind of mischief and her brother... well he spent his time moping or visiting Gilmore whatever good that could bring about.

A couple of hours after dawn she decided to knock on the door to Percy's workshop in the east wing. Their rooms lay next to each other and she hadn't heard him come or go during the night. After given entry permission she set down a cup with morning brew infront of him. "Percy, Dear. You might want to sleep in an actual bed then just knock out at your workbench eventually." Vex suggested, her voice mostly teasing but it held a sense of worry. "I'm heading into Emon for market day, care to join me? I'm sure you're running low on... everything? by now?"

if she blinks, she can almost see herself back there. laying under the comforting shade of the tree. she can almost feel rhaenyra lying in her lap, her warm body against her own, promising things that they both knew weren't possible. even back then, alicent had known it would've been impossible to follow her. that didn't stop the almost obsessive lure, one she's tried to crush under her foot for years now. one that's been nothing but a distant buzzing in the back of her mind. "you speak as if from a distant dream," rhaenyra says, her voice shaky and eyes glossy with tears, not unlike her own.

she doesn't know the words for how she feels. perhaps, in another universe, she'd be able to understand it. she'd be able to part her lips and confess the truth. to tell rhaenyra that she's the only one she's ever loved, the only one she's ever fallen for. that the only freedom she's ever longed for lies with her. that her salvation comes from rhaenyra's forgiveness. as dearly as she loves her children, nothing has ever compared to this. the confession dances on the tip of her tongue. she wants to embrace rhaenyra, wants to pull her close, to beg.

it seeps and it seeps and it paints her world red. she knows this room, this scene. it was never far from her mind. but worse than that, she knows this face. this medallion is chipped in a too-familiar way. ( it's similar to the face that usually haunts you — but this one is hauntingly familiar. )

she feels flesh and bone give beneath her touch, between that cursed magic as tears streak down freckled cheeks. ❛ no, no, n— - ❜ the words tumble off her lips. there's no undoing it as blood streams past his lips, out his eyes and ears. her whole body shakes. ❛ caelen — - ❜ his body thumps to the crimson-stained stone floor. she never learned how to use these cursed abilities to heal. now it's @featherstcnes ' warm blood that coated her palms.

( it was him you killed. )

air is sucked into lungs as her mind comes barreling back into her body, a body tangled in sweat-soaked sheets tossed haphazardly over her. ❛ no —- ❜ the word slips past and her throat is hoarse as if the screaming, the pleading had left her lips in this reality.

He didn't turn for a few minutes. If she was there to kill him, she'd have done it by now. Tossing one more bale, he stood for a second, taking in the last bit of peace he'd have for a while if her visit meant anything.

Back in Romania, he'd never let his guard down. He'd been waiting for someone to recognise his face, even in that far away place. Waited for one of the many organisations hunting him down. Bucky had known for some time he could just go to Steve. But he hadn't wanted to, not until he was... better. Stupid idea. That, of course, had been taken out of his hands.

A Widow finding him wasn't exactly surprising. One taking the time to visit him in Wakanda, however, was.