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[rightly]

« I can save today, but you can save the world. » AUs, alternate timelines, crosscanon, what have you. feel free to leave pictures, quotes, a starter— anything!

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[whichisit]

Henry's fingers clack across the keyboard as he types out an email to Abraham, the news softly playing in the background.

He needed some quiet time so he retreated to the old farmhouse in upstate New York for a few weeks. It was coming up upon a difficult anniversary for him even after centuries had passed he found himself missing Edeva and the child that could have been this time of year.

So he retreated he wrote, he thought... but he didn't cut himself completely off, that never did a vampire any good.

There is a bright flash and rocking boom from his partly wooded backyard, that make his eyes fly to the window cutting the email short. He pushes his feet into his sneaker and runs toward the crater.

He looks into the crater and sees the wreckage of a World One Era plane and a young man. He rolls his eyes to the heavens and wonders why these things always happened to him.

[rightly]

Steve isn't really sure what happens. He pulls the trigger, and supposedly there's a blast— he can't tell, can't remember much of anything, just a sudden loud noise and he gets knocked out as his face slams into the controls.

When he comes to, all he hears is white noise. There's barely anything left of the plane, mostly just the front and one of its wings, and little bits and pieces of the rest scattered across the floor. It's a wonder it even managed to land with him still alive and in one piece, though that's not the first thought flitting through his head.

He startles into a sitting position, breathing shallow and rapid as he pats at his own chest in a panic. He can't make sense of it, though. He's... he's alive.

"No," his voice trembles with panic. If he made it, then the gas must have too, right? He scrambles to his feet, stumbling all over himself as he spots the blur of what's left of the plane, and he rushes over to see if there's anything left in there, for the moment unaware that he has company. "No, they can't— they can't..."

[whichisit]

Okay yelling in English about gas... Henry watches just for a moment before grabbing the young man to still him. "There is no gas," Henry says loudly trying to get the man to sit back down. "You are probably injured and very much need to still yourself." He goes on, he's good a talking and will keep doing it until the young man comes back to himself a little more.

"There is no threat here right now." Unless you count Henry, but then he's never really been a threat to humans on the just side of things. "Look around no gas." He continues letting go of the blond and holding his hands up.

God help me... tell me what I need to change. x_x

[undeserved_protector]

Some thought the ancient myths and legends of Greece to be stories. Lessons to an old forgotten culture to explain what could not be explained rather than hold any real kernel of truth. But then, humanity was blinded by the short sightedness of mortality and if they could not see it, why should they believe it? But she knew the truth behind each story, each myth and magical tale of days long gone. It made it easy to do her job as a curator.

Easier still to want to learn and see each artifact and piece of history that she might not have read on Themyscira. Because she might have accepted the plight and sadness of human mortality, but there was one thing she never let go of. Hope. That belief that someday the boundaries of immortality and those lost would be crossed.

So each of those little notices her research pushed her toward, she followed. Every text she translated lead her to the places she needed to find. Particularly to a little notice, little walked path to the shores of the River of Styx. Where she dared to make her deal and pay her trials. And Hades… he was not so cruel as to deny her a simple demand at his defeat. But souls could not just walk out of the Underworld. Life always required more work than that.

And the promise was to release his soul to a body remade… if she could find a way to revive that body with no life. So she searched and scoured till she took the blood from the gorgon’s right side, the answer to that one task Hades laid before her. Now? For all her power, learning, and abilities… now she simply had to wait.

Diana had waited over ninety years living on a small sliver of hope. But the tension in her stomach and the nerves that fluttered in her chest told her that waiting now was far harder.

perfecttt

[rightly]

It was nothing like waking up from a deep, long sleep.

He couldn't remember a thing after the explosion, if there was even anything to remember. His mind was a blank as if he just rose from a dreamless sleep, but his body was another thing altogether. His stillness changed almost abruptly as he shifted and jolted awake, a sharp, deep inhale filling new lungs for what felt like the first time.

It hurt. Everything hurt, for a moment. His legs and arms felt like lead, his back ached when he tried to move. When he blinked his eyes open, there was nothing but a blur and blotches of light, and the only thing he heard was a steady white noise, anything else just a distant murmur in the background.

He gripped at what he could reach— a bed? The floor? He couldn't even tell where he was. But he did manage to catch something warm and pliant enough that it grounded him almost immediately, and his still blurry gaze landed on what looked like the contour of an arm.

"What..." Eyes flickered up, though it took him a while to even begin to make out the features of the person next to him. "Diana...?" His heart both fluttered and sank in his chest. If he was here, if she was here... what had happened to the airplane, then?

[undeserved_protector]

It could have been a matter of seconds. Seconds that ticked by long enough to make her wonder if Hades spoke falsely to her with a lie rather than made good on his word. Enough time to wonder if just maybe, that hope would be lost entirely and 'more time' would not ever come. It reminded her of the watch, how it stopped ticking the moment the sky turned red with the fires of his plane.

And for one very bleak second, she started to lower her head.

Until the harsh movement abruptly broke the silence and the desperate gasp for air to unused lungs. She could only believe Hades had done right in the making of this form. Steve looked as he always had, but he moved as if someone in sudden and very horrible pain. Brow creasing in worry and concern, she rose from the chair beside the bed to sit near him on the bed, dark eyes full of the anxious feelings tangling in her chest.

"Steve?" She spoke the name softly, a name she'd really not spoken in far too long that pulled at every emotion deep inside. Breathing in quickly as his hand met her arm, she shifted, nimble but strong fingers curling about his bicep gently as she leaned over him. How many years since she'd heard that voice say her name? The intensity of that moment welled up and stung at her eyes as she bent gracefully nearer to him, her other hand reaching out to delicately sweep the strands of hair from his face and brush the line of his brow.

A million things that should have been said flit through her mind as well as so many questions she wanted to ask him... But a sudden fear of the moment shattering or breaking hung in her mind as real as the fear of him not approving of the lengths she would go for just a bit more time with him. However much he would give her.

"Does... it hurt?" That most paramount question came first as her fingertips brushed along the shell of his ear. "You look like you are in pain."

just gonna leave a few images

[unconquerable]

[ 1 | 2 | 3 ]

<3

[rightly]

[ Even after days past, everything was still kind of a blur to him. He'd gotten on that plane with a single purpose in mind: burn up the gas before it could hurt anyone. Well, anyone save for himself, obviously. Hadn't been a particularly easy sacrifice, but it had been a necessary one.

The parachute tucked underneath the seat just gave him an idea. A really bad idea. But well, it couldn't be worse than get blown up, so at least he could give it a try.

Never mind that as he fell out of the airplane at the same time he tried to shoot the bombs, he somehow failed to fasten the backpack properly, so he was pretty much clinging to the straps while the wind shook him around almost violently. Pretty sure he nearly passed out— and then Diana had simply floated up mid-air and caught him, bringing him back to the safety of the ground.

He did pass out, then. For just a little while, really. But he had just blown up an airplane so it could be excused. The fact that he pretty much slept his way through the next few days had to be excused too.

He woke up to the sky already dark. Must've slept for a whole day solid, he realized. He turned on the bed but his hands only patted at an empty space, so forcing his eyes open, he got up and dragged his feet towards the living room, only to find Diana on the couch, draped across the cushions, looking every bit like she'd just passed out there.

Head ducking slightly, he smiled to himself, running a hand through his hair as he padded over to her and kneeled on the floor next to the couch. He caught the small blanket resting over the back on the way, carefully draping it over her frame, wanting to wake her up yet trying hard not to. She probably needed more rest than even he did, after all. ]

[unconquerable]

[ As a child, the idea of battle had been exciting, a thrilling adventure to discuss over the fire, the birthplace of legends. The reality of war was harsh and awful, and while her legend might begin there, it's not the glorious victory Diana had imagined.

At least it hadn't taken Steve from her. Only because she had noticed the body toppling out of the sky and rushed to rescue it - sure he was dead, thrilled to find him alive.

It had been a stressful time - almost worse than going to battle. The reports, the discussions, watching and waiting to see if Steve would wake up, doctors forcing her out of the room, no one listening to her -

She had breathed a sigh of relief when he had been released, and they were able to achieve some peace. Diana knew, now, that women and men didn't live together without the bonds of marriage, but she went with Steve, refused to go elsewhere.

(Sorry Steve, you're stuck with her now.)

She hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch. She had only been reading, and the lack of sleep had caught up to her, and she had toppled over, slumber overtaking her. She didn't hear Steve moving about until he draped the blanket over her, and then she shifted, blinking sleepily at him. ] Did I fall asleep?

[thequitecontrary]

After helping him bathe, Mary saw Steve a few times around the house. They nodded politely and said hello, but there wasn't much more discussion than that. Mary found herself busy, having just gotten engaged. The house was abuzz with the news, so he may have heard about it himself. There was a lot to do in preparation for a wedding, even if she and Richard had not set a date yet.

Mary needed a break from all of the fuss, so she decided to take a walk around the property. It was a beautiful early summer day with a nice breeze. Being outside always helped to clear her head. She donned her favorite sun hat and set off.

Halfway down the path, she came upon Steve sitting on a bench. The smile that crossed her face was quite involuntary.

"Major Trevor. Would you mind if I joined you?" Mary stopped in front of the bench. "How is your arm feeling?"

[rightly]

Keeping their distance had worked for the best in the end, as lonely as Steve felt at times, and wished he could simply sit around and talk with Mary again. He knew such an opportunity wouldn't come along easily, though, and when she got engaged, it was only a matter of time before the news reached his ears.

It was ridiculous to be upset over it, honestly. They had shared not even an hour together, so he knew his feelings for her didn't run that deeply. More of an infatuation than anything, really. Still, it pushed him to want to stay away for the remainder of his time here, and hopefully leave without speaking to her again.

It would be for the best.

He almost managed, too, as the day of his departure drew nearer. He wasn't sure if it was bad luck or bad timing that she came outside just as he was soaking in the last bits of sunlight and fresh air, wanting to commit this whole place to memory before going back. He stood up without thought when he heard her voice, turning to look at her, smiling too wide before he caught himself and bit it back.

"Lady Mary," he looked down at his arm, lifting it up and flexing the fingers. The cast had been removed. "Good as new. I'll... be leaving soon."

[thequitecontrary]

Seeing his smile was like seeing a ray of sunshine break through a cloud. It filled her with joy, more than any smile from Richard ever could. Her engagement was practical. Richard was a good match, and he would still have her, even though she was not a virgin. In time she was sure that they would learn to love each other. She wanted to ignore the nagging intuition in her gut that told her that something wasn't right.

Yearning for Steve was a silly thing, even if she thought about him quite a lot. He was possibly one of the most handsome men that she had ever seen, and had been so kind and considerate through her awkwardness while helping him bathe. Mary had to work not to light up and grin every time she saw him. Now that they were alone though, he was getting her full grin.

"I see," she said, picking up his healed hand in hers, their fingers brushing for a moment before letting it go. "I'm glad you're better, though sad to hear about your departure. We will miss you." She didn't want to say that she specifically would.

After a moment's pause, Mary threw caution to the wind. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

for thequitecontrary

[rightly]

Meeting her uncle and grandmother hadn't been quite as daunting as Steve had been preparing himself for. Mary had said once they weren't as uptight as British people could be, and she was right— they were also a little more direct when it came to Steve's intentions than he was ready for, but they seemed content to let the matter drop when Mary insisted they were friends looking to spend some time together.

Which... well, wasn't a lie exactly. Just wasn't the whole truth, either. But for now it was easier to keep things that way.

Still, it hindered some of his plans. As much as Steve enjoyed their walks and perfectly acceptable lunches in public places, he also wanted to take her out on more unusual adventures across the city sometimes. Tonight he was sneaking up to the window of her bedroom for that reason exactly. Knowing the family likely had had their dinner by now, he made sure to keep himself more or less hidden from view as he threw a tiny pebble at the window.

When that didn't get her to open it to take a peek outside, he tried a second time.

[thequitecontrary]

Mary was enjoying her time in New York, especially spending time with Steve. She had grown even more fond of him through their talks and meals. Harold actually liked him, though Martha was still reserving judgement. That said, neither of them were preventing her from spending time with him and her grandmother wasn't going to write home to tell Mary's family that she was spending an inordinate amount of time with an American soldier. They had a lot more freedom here.

Thankfully that evening Mary hadn't changed out of her dress yet. She was about to call for some tea and read in the chair in her room, when she heard something tap against her window. Thinking it was just a branch, she continued to look through the books on the shelf before she heard the noise again. Her curiosity took over.

After drawing the drapes, she was surprised to find Steve grinning up at her from outside the window. Mary pushed the window open and leaned her head out. "Steve!" she hissed. "What are you doing here?" And why was he throwing rocks at her window instead of coming to the front door?

[rightly]

Brightening up as he saw the drapes being pulled aside, he grinned up at her and waved a little, making sure she could see him well enough. "Lady Mary," he greeted with an amused lilt once she opened the window and peered outside, even doing a tiny little curtsy and bowing his head.

"I'm here to take you on an adventure, of course," he said, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do. "If you're feeling up to it."

for unmakeme

[rightly]

Adaptation is something of a learning process, he's come to realize. For every new thing he gets used to, there's about three new ones that catch him by surprise. But then, that is to be expected when you go under in 1918 and are somehow brought back to life nearly a hundred years later.

Steve's nothing if not adaptable, though, and after a few weeks of doing close to nothing, he started to get fidgety. He was eager to work again, to do something, to be useful in any way he could, and... well, there was only so much he was good at.

Being a soldier, for one— but war was very different these days. He was a skilled pilot and marksman, but above all that, his training as a spy was apparently a rarity even in 2015. So, he started working towards the goal of getting back into that line of work, and when a few months later SHIELD offered him a position, he was all too eager and quick to take it, lest they changed their minds.

So that's how he's ended up here. After a series of tests, easier assignments and simpler missions, he's now tasked with keeping an eye on some magnate with the ultimate goal of uncovering any information whatsoever that'll prove he's actually financing both sides of a civil war, with the intent of usurping the position as president from the person currently running his country. Granted, not America, but no less important because of it.

Steve has no doubt SHIELD has other interests at play in this, but it's not his job to question them. (It also doesn't mean he won't poke around and try to learn more about that, but anyway.)

The gala tonight is a big event, with plenty of very famous and very public faces, all of them with very deep pockets. Steve has been assigned along with Agent Romanoff, whom he informally calls Natasha more often than not, particularly since she's never once corrected him. He's never worked with her much, but they trained together a lot as he recovered, and she helped him learn a great deal about the world when it was just a strange place to him. Whatever her reasons, and regardless of being told to do so by her superiors, he's grateful for all her help.

And she will have to forgive him if that time they've spent together has made him grow to care a good deal about her.

"I think I need a hand with this... damned thing," he huffs at the mirror on the closet door. He's in a black pair of suit pants and shoes, a perfectly tucked white shirt while he struggles with a bowtie he apparently can't seem to tie properly. The blazer completing his outfit lies waiting on the bed of the bedroom hotel under their names— their fake names, of course. Happily married, supposedly. Steve can't say he has a lot of experience with that.

"That's it. I quit." He throws his hands in the air, groaning and rolling his eyes. Defeated by a plain bowtie, go figure.

[unmakeme]

When Steve's voice (well, other Steve's voice) first reaches her in the bathroom, she's just finishing her hair. "Oh, come on. It's just a tie. Watch the youtube video I found you." There is more muttering and grumbling from the bedroom as she applies her eye shadow and liner, and she's just finished mascara when he declares that he quits.

That makes her laugh, and she has to stop before she can put on her lipstick. She's quick with this last bit of makeup, and then she's tossing the gloss back onto the counter next to the base colour. "No, you don't. Calm down." She's not actually finished with her own prep, but she's an old hand at this. If he's going to throw in the towel because of a bow tie, better to fix that before he can let whatever is really bothering him bubble up to the surface.

Besides, the complicated underwear that goes on under her dress to keep everything firmly in place even in a fight while also allowing her to bring knives and a gun without looking like she's armed it more modest than most bathing suits. Granted, most bathing suits these days consist of postage stamps and dental floss, but whatever. Long-line strapless corset, garter belt with allowances for sets of slim blades to be held up above each stocking.

"Give it." She holds out her hand as she walks toward him, fingers flicking as she demands he hand over the tie. She's going to have to teach him how to do this at some point. Not tonight, though. They have places to be.

[rightly]

At this point, he was actually considering going to that gala with only the shirt and suit, any sort of tie be damned. He figured Natasha would intervene before it got to that point, though. It's a matter of appearance, and even a hair out of place could be enough to give them away.

Really, he needs to learn how to tie these things eventually. "I don't know how to find the video," he points out, frustration winning out over his embarrassment that he's as bad as an old man when it comes to the internet. He has made remarkable progress with computers and technology, but even so he has his limits, and still a lot to learn.

He's relieved when he hears her stepping out of the bathroom, but it's a feeling that dissipates somewhat when he gets a look at her state of... well, not undress exactly. She's evidently not uncomfortable by walking around like that, but Steve's not really used to it, and his face turns a faint shade of pink as she moves closer to him.

Wordlessly he hands her the tie and ducks his head a little, glancing away and fixing his gaze on anything other than her. The carpet is apparently a source of deep fascination to him at the moment. "Thank you."

for thequitecontrary

[rightly]

The announcement of their engagement had gotten some mixed reactions so far, though no one seemed too shocked or surprised. Steve had no doubt that Martha had expected it to happen sooner or later, after all the time Mary had spent with Steve, and how often she brought him along to lunches, dinners, and all sorts of other social gatherings. There was no hiding the way they looked at each other either, their love for each other practically etched onto their faces.

Her American family hadn't reacted too strongly, in the end. Martha seemed a little skeptical about whether they'd be very lucky when they brought these news back to Downton, but it was as though she knew there was no talking Mary out of it, not now. Besides, if she knew about their sexual escapades as they suspected, then she likely thought that not getting married would be even worse. More chance of a scandal or something. Not that Steve cared either way; he wanted to marry Mary because he loved her.

The date of their departure was drawing nearer, and by now Steve had already packed most of his belongings. They still had a bit of free time to enjoy what they could of New York before leaving, and they likely wouldn't be coming back anytime soon, so he didn't want to miss anything. They'd visited a few museums, gone out for lunches and strolls in parks, and today they were finally visiting Coney Island, just like Mary had asked him once. Later he had arranged for an airplane flight, which should be a fun, exciting way to end their day.

Arrived in Coney Island, they strolled across the walkway along the bridge. It was sunny and still warm, and it was beautiful out. Steve glanced at Mary, his fingers weaved through hers as he held her hand. "Pick the first ride."

[thequitecontrary]

Both her grandmother and her uncle were happy for her about her engagement to Steve, probably because they could tell that she was deeply in love with him. To them, it wasn't as much of a concern as it might be for her family back in England. That was where the real challenge would lie. Martha was content to let the chips fall where they may, though she hoped that she would not take any sort of blame for what had happened between Mary and Steve. Stopping love was nearly impossible.

Mary was very excited to be at Coney Island. It was a bit like Brighton, with so many colors and lights and the beach close by. She hoped they would have a fun day.

"The roller coaster," she said with a smile. Hopefully that would help her prepare for their flight later, which she was admittedly a bit nervous about.

[rightly]

Steve rose his eyebrows at that, letting out a surprised hum. It wasn't what he thought she'd choose for a first ride, but he certainly wasn't going to stop her. "Feeling daring today, are we?" he winked playfully at her, tugging on her hand lightly and turning so they were walking away from the beach and towards the roller coaster. "Alright, then. Let's see if you can handle that."

Let me know if you want anything changed!

[primogen_vampirate]

Mina's uniform was crisp and neatly pressed. It tapered slightly in at the waist, but there was nothing to be done about that. She moved through the makeshift hospital with all the authority of someone who was supposed to be there. Which meant that no one paid her much mind. No one looked close enough to notice that her right ear was pierced. Or that she wore a ring on every single finger, each one more gaudy than the last. When you moved briskly and your boots thundered and you occasionally barked an order, you could fool anyone.

And it wasn't like she hadn't earned her respect. Woman or not, she knew what she was doing. This was, what? The fourth, perhaps fifth war she'd served in? She'd never bothered counting. At her age, counting would only lead to madness.

If she was going to go bonkers, it wasn't going to be over the numbers.

She leaned over a patient, lying on a stretcher. "Change his dressing," she snapped at a passing nurse, in a deep voice that wasn't terribly genuine. Context was everything here and the nurse obediently scurried to fetch the dressing. "If only someone could do something about the bloody flies," she added, mostly to herself.

If only she could find her damn contact, then get the hell out of the hospital. She loathed being on this side of the pond. She was supposed to be in Chicago. This mission was a nuisance.

looks fine to me!

[rightly]

It was a stinky, crumbling place, but it wasn't the worst place Steve had landed in, or gotten patched up at. In a war, people had to settle for what they could get, and right now he was just glad that there was a roof over his head, a minimally clean bed for him to lie down in, enough supplies to tend to most of the injuries, and no bombs being dropped on them.

Better than most places he'd been so far. Besides, his injury wasn't too severe either.

Which was why the attention given to it got him frowning a little, as he propped his weight up a little, pressing a hand over the dressing wrapped around his torso.

"They changed it in the morning, it's fine," he said, giving the soldier a sweeping look. Unlike most everyone else, who didn't seem to pay much mind, little details caught his eye, but he said nothing about them for now. "Worse things for the nurses to deal with around here than my minor injury. Or the flies."

because I want some fluff

[epimoni]

During the war, it was so rare to have a moment for themselves. Against all odds they had found one. "We have not had such a moment alone since we sailed to this land together," she observed, closing the door behind Steve. Of course, those moments alone were very different, and Diana smiled to think of them.

"So much has changed since then. I should not find any sort of joy in war, and yet without it, we might never have met."

yessss please ♥♥♥

[rightly]

Steve let out a soft chuckle, his head ducking a little despite himself. He'd never been too terribly flustered when it came to women, but Diana always managed to affect him in a way that no one else could, and when they were alone like this, it was like he could hear every heartbeat in his ears, every breath like it was loud enough to break through the quiet around them.

"Doesn't feel like we've had many moments at all since we got here," he said. But that was just how the war worked. To just get a moment to speak to her alone felt like a blessing in itself.

He stepped closer, reaching out to touch her fingers with his own. "I know what you mean. I... I'm very glad I got to meet you, too."