#godsrighteousman

[heirtoasgard]

“I feel like a fool,” Thor huffed, mostly to himself - but with the clear intent of others hearing, namely Steve. They were seated at a busy bus stop outside of their hotel, though people seemed to be too busy to notice them. Kennedy and Ronan were standing near the road, undoubtedly trying to get seats together (they couldn’t be a part for more than three seconds, it seemed, and Thor found it oddly amusing), and Jane was talking to Amy nearby.

The God huffed again, leaning back in his seat and twitching his cheek up to make the eyepatch budge. “Doesn’t this... Magical Kingdom have some sort of... Midgardian pirate theme? Will I ever hear he ending of this, Steven?”

[arachnat]

“Hey, Rogers,” Nat said, voice all but dripping with a low-toned tease. “Remember that time in the mall when we kissed?” She chuckled as if she was remembering something that had happened ten years ago, when in reality it had barely been a year since that fateful day. “It was totally your first since ‘45, by the way.”

[amyhalls]

east side, west side

There was a loud crunch under her kitten-heeled toes as she walked, and it was hard not to notice the bitter chill that was biting its way through her coat with icy teeth. The bag over her shoulders ached, and once again she cursed the day her mother had signed her up for a job at a local’s lawyer’s office that required her to bring her own typewriter. Couldn’t the lawyer do his ow trying? she’d asked. He has fingers, doesn’t he?

Her questions were met with an evil look from her mother (but a poorly-hidden chuckle from her good old dad), so she zipped her red-painted lips and walked the 5 blocks to work that morning in the cold. Still, the day hadn’t been all bad; there was another typer there, and her name was Piper, and she was really nice (even if Amelia Amy had some trouble understanding her accent, sometimes).

She was on her way home when the snow beneath her feet became less interesting. The sound of a fight --- a grunt, the sickening crunch of a punch, and the sound of something hitting the snow and scrambling back up --- caught the 22-year-old’s attention, and she peered into a dirty alleyway that Brooklyn was full of, and gasped at the sight.

There was a fight, alright. Or at least... half a fight. The very large man was sending most of his time above the remarkably small one, although he had his own stamina to hold him up. Bloody, bruised, with an eye almost completely swollen shut, the underdog looked a little worse for wear --- but the big guy didn’t stop!

“Hey!” Amy screamed, not sounding very ladylike at all. She marched into the alleyway, red hair flipped behind her shoulders in the cold wind and kitten heals slicking slightly on the icy, wet concrete. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You’re gonna kill him!” The big guy barely gave her a glance before punching the littler one again, square in the handsome, chiseled jaw. As usual, she didn’t think through her next decision. “Hey, fuck you!” Amy said, thinking that might shock the big one long enough for the little one to get away.

It was a bad decision. The big one turned around abruptly, shocked and obviously quite appalled that a dame would say such a thing, and to him, of all people! He stalked over to Amy, only a few steps, and she looked over his shoulder at the littler one and made a motion to run. Run, you idiot! He won’t hit a girl! Run!

The big guy raised his arm, fisted his fingers, and made to punch Amy. But the sound of a police whistle stopped him, and soon there were several officers detaining the (drunk, Amy now noticed) man. One of the officers gave the littler man a tired look and rolled his eyes. While the other officer led the big man away, he spoke to the little one.

“Damnit, Rogers. You gotta quit doin’ this, y’hear? D’you think if your mom was still with us --- God rest her soul,” he paused to cross himself, “ --- that she’d want y’to go off fighting’ everybody who pissed you off? Go home, Steve. Clean up. And don’t let me catch y’again, okay?”

Both officers were gone before Amy regained enough intelligent consciousness to walk over to the little one, Steve, with worried eyes. “You okay?” She asked quietly, suddenly extremely shy, and not sounding anything like the sailor she must’ve seemed like before. “Oh, of course you’re not! You’re bleeding. C’mon. My house is right around this corner. My momma’s not home and we can get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[motherofmourning]

@godsrighteousman

The night sky had long since enveloped the inhabitants of Steven’s apartment, but no one inside knew. Much too busy speaking to each other and playing what Sigyn had found out was a game called Mario Cart, the thought of the hour becoming later was the last thing on their minds. Sigyn was glad, however, when she found Steven alone in the kitchen, refiling a few wine glasses. “Oh, Steven! How are you? I haven’t had a moment alone with you in ages.” She was smiling widely, white-blonde hair covering nearly her entire torso. She moved the strands behind her ear before she continued, her smile becoming more sly. “It’s a pity Amelia can’t partake in the wine, is it not?”

[heirtoasgard]

@godsrighteousman [ Steven Rogers ; 12:43pm ]: Steven I need [ Steven Rogers ; 12:43pm ]: I'm sorry I accidentally pressed send before I was finished typing! This phone is small and my hands are big. [ Steven Rogers ; 12:44pm ]: Steven I need your help.

[motherofmourning]

melodrama

@godsrighteousman

The building that its inhabitants deemed “Avengers Tower” was, fairly, one of the most advanced structures that Sigyn had seen on Midgard. Though it didn’t compare to the golden palaces of Asgard or especially the frozen castles of Jotunheim, she had started to enjoy her trips to the Avengers’ headquarters, despite the group’s members’ unwillingness to accept her husband.

On one particular visit, Sigyn found herself wandering the place while Loki attempted to find Thor. Having no interest in the quarrel that was sure to follow, she had made her way --- via the building’s voice named Jarvis --- to where the one they called Captain America was. She found him in what appeared to be a small kitchen, eating what appeared to be a small, colorful pastry of some sort.

“Steve,” she greeted with a pleasant smile, her blonde-white hair cascading in bright, shining waves over her shoulders. Her dress was one of simplicity, but obviously one of expense as well; it was an off-white gown that reached the floor, though it was quite open on her chest and arms, revealing luminous skin that was so white it might have been the same color as her hair. “My husband has told me much about you,” she continued, her smile growing a little mischievous, though it never lost its kindness. “Don’t worry --- I don’t believe everything he said.” Sigyn entered the room fully, her flat shoes making no noise as she made her way to stand closer to the sitting Steve. “It’s only that... well, he told me that you knew who we were from stories you heard as a child. Your mother told them to you, didn’t she? Well, I only wondered... if they said anything about me?”

[amyhalls]

promise me.

It was arguably too early to even be awake; five, maybe six in the morning. But Thor and Jane had taken Kennedy for the night, and both Amy and Steve gone gone to bed at like nine, so she was awake quite early. She turned over in the plush, California king bed that they never used all of, because they always ended up together somehow, legs twisted of hands gripped tight. Amy was under the impression that it helped his nightmares, but he’d never admit it, of course. Steve was awake, too, but just barely; he looked half-asleep still, and his long hair and beard looked like an ever lighter blond in the sunlight coming from the bay window on the other side of the room.

Amy snuggled closer to him, an actual human heater, and wrapped her arms around his shirtless waste. She yawned without grace, and sighed softly. There was a seriousness in her eyes, once reserved for hard talks and angry yelling matches. “Hey,” she said, nudging him with her chin to make sure he was listening. “Promise me something?”

[bleujotunn]

Ronan wasn’t necessarily looking forward to the conversation he was about to initiate. Hel, he didn’t look forward to any conversation that he had to initiate! But he did have to, because he’d promised Kennedy. And gods know he’s do anything for her.

He was going to marry her, after all. If her father said yes...

Kennedy had thought it strange that Ronan would ask for her hand in marriage, when such things were evidently in the past. But not only was it still tradition in Asgard, but Ronan was frankly scared shitless of her dad, and he didn’t want to do anything Steve didn’t approve of --- even if it was the only thing Ronan had ever truly been sure of in his whole life.

He showed up at the house --- no, mansion was a better word, more fitting for the massive building before him --- at exactly 1:32pm, two minutes passed the time he’d said he would be there. He physically cringed as he rang the doorbell. When the door swung open and revealed Steve, the young blue alien couldn’t bring himself to smile. 

“I’m truly sorry to be late, sir.”