#Anyone who wants to answer or reblog feel free but I do recognize this may be uniquely American

[luwritesomething]

mickey altieri x reader where she starts getting suspicious of him but ignores it cause he’s her boyfriend (and she’s in denial) until one day she accidentally catches him still in costume without him knowing. Reader then starts avoiding him and is super upset and doesn’t know what to do until one day he shows up and asks her why she’s been avoiding him. She tells Mickey that she saw him in the Ghostface costume and knows that he is the killer and he tries to explain himself and tries to calm her down. She’s very upset about it and is scared that he might hurt her but he reassures her that he won’t. She loves him so she eventually decides to stay with him anyway and promises that she won’t leave him or tell anyone abt him being the killer… I hope this made sense lol I feel like I put a lot I’m just in desperate need of mickey fics 😭

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Please.

Warnings: swearing, manipulation (mickey manipulates the reader to stay by his side), lack of morals from reader's side, mentions of blood and murder.

Word count: 2160

Author's note: i'm living for these requests! with this little piece, i was able to answer two of them, that's why i added the other one. i love mickey, but i actually struggled with writing this one because my moral alarm was going off everytime i tried to think of a reason for reader to stay with mickey after finding out... that's why i went down the manipulation path! hope you like it, and remember, no matter how 'unoriginal' or 'boring' you think your reqs may be, i love getting them and will most probably write them <3

also in here mickey is a little dumb dumb because he goes into his dorm with the ghostface costume on, something that i don't think mickey would actually do... but anyways! no more spoilers :)

graphic by me! also, i'm leaving my mickey altieri playlist, if anyone wants to take a look at it, feel free!

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad martin-meeks, mindy martin-meeks, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The pounding of your heart was the only thing you could feel as you shut your eyes close and try not to make a damn sound. You knew you hadn’t been meant to witness what you had since the moment your mind had been able to connect the dots together, just some minutes ago, and now you were just trying not to discover yourself.

The sounds of someone moving around Mickey’s room had woken you up from your heavy sleep, the coldness from your boyfriend not being by your side anymore easing you up to reality. You had barely opened your eyes, a quick flutter that registered the small lamp in Mickey’s desk shedding its light in the figure next to it. Your heart had stopped at the sight of the figure who, even though had its back turned to you, you could recognize everywhere after last week’s news.

Someone was on a murder spree on campus, dressed with the same costume the figure there was wearing, so it was natural for your first thought to be that you were the next victim. You even saw the knife in the figure’s hand, blade stained with blood that meant you weren’t about to be the only dead of the night. But, before you could even think about moving to try and save your life, the figure had taken the ghostly mask off and you had recognized Mickey, your dear and loved and lovely boyfriend Mickey, in less than a second. That was when you had stopped breathing, your eyes closing as you tried to wash the sight of the bloody knife off your mind, and your heart trying to escape from your chest.

You waited in silence, trying to control the thoughts that raced through your mind, and not making a single move that could expose you to Mickey. Luckily enough, he got out of the room with a towel on his shoulder, to go and use the communitary shower, and that allowed you to breathe deep before trying to control the panic trying to take over your body.

Was Mickey really the killer? When you opened your eyes again, the costume was nowhere to be seen but it was not like you had the imagination to make that up. And if you were true to yourself, Mickey had been shady as fuck. Oh, God, were you really suspecting your own boyfriend of being a killer? The evidence had been right there, in front of your eyes — that wasn’t suspecting anymore.

When some steps could be heard outside the door, you forced yourself to close your eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the sick feeling messing with your stomach. You kept yourself grounded, hidden between the pillow and the sheets, and your body stilled terribly when Micky got himself on bed, like nothing had happened. He smelled sweet, the scent of his shampoo surrounding you.

Quietly, you held your breath as his arms surrounded you, lovingly, and you waited for something — anything — to happen.

You waited for the whole night, but nothing other than Mickey swiftly falling asleep did.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The days passed by, and your mind couldn’t help but bring back the image of Mickey on the costume with the bloody knife whenever you were around him. And that was terrible, because you spent an incredible amount of time with Mickey, which quickly brought you to avoid him.

At first it was rather small and subtle — made up group projects, very real homework, studying. Then, the need to be on your own, which triggered his suspicions of something else going on. You were inevitably jumpy around him during those times you ran out of excuses, laughing less than usual and sometimes even zoning out on him. The thought of you losing your feelings for him was nearly driving him insane.

Mickey couldn’t stop thinking about you during his film history course, and not in a good way. From college, his murder spree and now you acting up, he had received a ridiculous amount of stress — enough to make him space out in every single class of his. In the middle of the lesson he had already made up his mind about having to talk things out with you and figure out what he had said or done to upset you that much.

When the class ended he was the first one to get out, without even saying goodbye to Randy, and heading towards the classroom he knew you’d be in. You both had learned each other’s schedules after spending so much time together, and that hour was perfect, since his class ended a little bit before yours and both were the last classes of the day.

Oblivious to his presence outside the classroom, you calmly gathered your things once the class came to an end, agreeing a date and hour with the partner you had been assigned to for your next project. Attending your classes and focusing on your schoolwork kept your mind off things — things being Mickey — but as soon as you crossed the classroom doors and saw him there, it all came back.

Mickey smiled at you, even if you didn’t smile back, and walked towards you with that easy going manner of doing things he had. You waited for him with your fingers drumming against your side, which he caught on — weren’t you happy to see him? Even if he had verbalized that question, he wouldn’t have gotten an answer.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.” You said, forcing a smile that, surprisingly, hadn’t felt so forced. Maybe you had been slipping lately, but your objective was not to be killed, and you didn’t know how far he was planning on going. “I have to go to the library, do you want to hang after—?”

“I just wanna talk to you for a minute.” Mickey interrupted you, grabbing the hand you had use to lightly gesture around.

Your heart started pounding so loudly you were afraid he able to hear it. He wasn't, but you didn’t notice his fingers pressing on the pulse point on your grip, checking that, indeed, you were pretty nervous. “It can’t wait?”

“It’ll be just a min.” Mickey promised, insisting oh so charmingly. He squeezed your hand once. “Please?”

How were you supposed to say no to him when he asked so nicely, with his head cocked and his eyes shining? You nodded softly and sighed under your breath, letting him take you wherever he wanted as you tried not to think too much about it.

He led you outside and to the side of the building, a not so hidden place that equally allowed you to be seen by the students walking through campus but not be heard unless you raised your voices. You found yourself terribly afraid of noticing all these things, but Mickey letting your hand go and placing himself across from you got your attention too fast.

“What’s gotten into you?” He finally asked, head cocked.

It took you a second to catch it. “What?”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” Mickey pursed his lips slightly, then shook his head. He truly looked worried. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

“I’m not avoiding—”

“Oh, please.” Mickey waved his hand to make you stop, diminishing your ridiculous attempt to fool him. “Don’t lie to me like that. Just… tell me what I did wrong so I can undo it and—”

You started shaking your head, nervous. “It’s not— It’s not like that.”

The look in Mickey’s eyes was so helpless that you felt how your heart started to crumble. “Please?”

You looked away from him, feeling the fast way your heart was pumping blood. If you had been seated, you would have started to bounce your leg up and down — Mickey couldn’t be more confused at your nervous-wreck state.

“Are you the murderer?” You asked in a whisper, almost not daring to look up to see his reaction.

But his face didn’t tell you anything. Mickey was completely emotionless as he stared back into your eyes, his brain processing very slowly those four words that had just left your mouth. How could you know? He was sure he had been really careful, trying not to let his mood after a kill or planning affect any scenario between you. Mickey knew you were smart, but how?

That was not the right direction to go, though, he realized as you waited for him to give you an answer. You had been acting all weird around him because of being scared of him, and that feeling didn’t make him feel entirely good. 

“Listen…” He started, coming a step closer to you, but you instantly backed away.

“Don’t.” You hissed rather abruptly, still not believing he hadn’t denied it completely and put an end to your delusion. You were right. “If you get closer I’ll scream.”

“Sweetheart!” Mickey exclaimed, surprised, his eyebrows shooting up as the pet name he reserved for your softest moments slipping past his lips in what was an improvised plan of manipulation. The seriousness in his voice and face was the only thing you could pay attention to, though. “I wouldn’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

You hesitated and he almost hissed right then. Falling for you hadn’t been on his plan, but now that same plan was being threatened just because you had found — and he couldn’t have that happen. Mickey wouldn’t kill you, no, but his partner easily could if you did something stupid, and he also did not want you to go to the police saying things about him and the murders. He needed to think of a solution, and fast.

“Then why would you hurt others?” You said hastily, then your head looking around you to really make sure no one was listening. “You’ve killed people, Mickey. I knew some of them—”

“You have to trust me.” He interrupted you instantly. There was only one way out, as he saw it: manipulation. Mickey needed you by his side. His acting skills were enough for you to stop looking so nervous, watching closely how his eyes fell to the floor in fake defeat — but you didn’t know he was acting. You didn’t even know he was a star. “I can’t tell you but you have to trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

His hand reached out to grab yours, but you dodged it, rather defensive. “And why would I trust you?”

“Because I’m not a liar.” Mickey frowned slightly. If you didn’t let him convince you of staying by his side, he would have to… The way he called out your name was rather heartbreaking, this time managing to catch your hand and pressing it against his chest. “Please. I wouldn’t hurt you, and you know that.”

He was making you doubt, he realized, as your eyes fell to your hand on his chest. Mickey seemed desperate from your eyes — begging you to stay. But it wasn’t right… “It just… this changes so many things.”

Mickey shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I still love you, and I always will.” His promise sounded genuine, and it was. There was no denying that, Mickey truly loved you. If he didn’t, you would already be another number on his back, after those little four words you said to him. 

But there he was, playing tricks on your mind without you noticing. “I’d trade my life for yours.”

“Mickey…”

“I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He insisted, more strongly now. His eyes continuously searched for yours, knowing you wouldn’t be able to deny him if you were looking right into his eyes. “Please, please, you have to trust me. Don’t you love me anymore?”

The question shocked you, and if you had been in your right mind, you would have realized the length of the manipulation. But in that moment it only made you gasp, surprised that he would actually question it with such a real expression. 

You were quick. “Of course I do!”

“Then…” A sigh interrupted Mickey, who looked down, letting your hand go. He didn’t need that much dramatism, but now that he had actually gotten used to the part, why stop? “Please.”

There wasn’t much thinking from your side. Mickey had asked you to please trust him, and that was what you were going to do. He had also promised not to hurt you, and you knew him too well — or so you thought. There needed to be more behind all this, and you had to be by his side. 

“I trust you.” You muttered after some seconds, and he looked up instantly. A soft smile blossomed in his lips as you nodded. “I won’t tell, I promise.”

Mickey leaned closer to you, with the swiftest movement, a hand cupping your cheek. “I love you.” He whispered softly.

“I love you too.” You replied against his lips.

#mickey altieri #mickey altieri fic #mickey altieri fanfiction #mickey altieri x reader #timothy olyphant #scream #scream 2 #scream franchise #ghostface #ghostface x reader #scream 1997 #angsty #lu writes #my writing #writing #mickey altieri imagine #anon asks #manipulation at its best #PLEASE BESTIES ALWAYS REMEMBER NOT TO FALL UNDER MANIPULATION #if your boyfriend is a killer please get the hell away from him #im always worried for the scream fandom in case someone takes fiction too realistically #scream fandom #yall stay safe

[mueritos]

Honest question- you're against proshippers, but you ship SidLink, and I'm confused? Link is 17 (canon fact) regardless of how long he was asleep, and Sidon has been actively living for 135 years. There is huge imbalance in so many ways and it's technically underage. Also proship is literally just not harassing people over fiction, you can hate tropes all you want. Would you block a proship that followed even if they didn't do anything but reblog art?

1. Yea im against proshippers.

2. In all of the art ive made with sidlink, and really ANY queer art I have made, I rarely draw anyone who is not over 18. My sidlink fancomic is set several years after the calamity, meaning that Link is well past 18 yrs old. So no, I dont draw him in any context where hes 17. An odd assumption to make that Sidon is like “grooming” him even tho Link knew him 100 years ago when he was a guppy. An odd assumption in general to assume art made by an adult to be playing into weird age/power dynamics really, just because there may be an age difference between two adult characters (who in my art, clearly consent to courting each other and who recognize each other as mutual beings deserving of respect). Do you want to go around to every other sidlink artist or fanfic writer now or what? Because there are genuine weirdos in the sidlink fandom, but of course you send me this message like some sort of “gotcha!”

3. I dont care what proship is to you, but I dont go around harrassing people to explain the art they make when they clearly depict adults, nor do I defend weird shit like extreme age dynamics (teen and adult, child and teen), nor do i defend media with problematic material that clearly has it just for the traumaporn or shock factor. I DO believe fiction affects reality because we have evidence from centuries of racism how written word and racist characters have affected our perceptions of BIPOC communities.

4. I would block a proship if I knew they were, but I have 20,000 followers and far too many notifications to check every blog that follows me. Ive been blocking porn bots for days and I dont care to check peoples blogs. I cant control if someone proship follows me, and I honestly cannot really care, but dont expect to feel welcomed on my blog because I refuse to align myself with a community that has 100% no media literacy skills. Are you proship and WANT to follow me??? Because it sounds like you are. Like dude feel free, i clearly cannot control you, but again, Im not proship and I have been against it for years now.

This may have been the weirdest ask ive ever gotten but whatever. You annoyed me enough to answer it.

#muertoresponds #what ever happened to hello how are you my name is #there is a clear difference between my art that depicts sidlink as a honest and adult relationship #and how proshippers draw their weird art with one character who is proportioned like a literal child and one who is an adult #theres a size difference between link and sidon because theyre fucking interspecies bro

[aroaceking]

I literally cannot tell if you actually want me to answer any of the things you asked but I'm posting the entire comment and I will answer it. I'm going to be very honest and address that I am autistic so if I've taken the fact there were questions too literally I am actually sorry, I have no intention of requesting engagement from you if you are not actually trying to discuss it with me.

Reblogs are off because I don't really feel comfortable with reblogs when I'm going to address some of my trauma, but you're free to reply to this or send an ask (I think ask word limits are lower now?) if you wish to reply.

tw because I don't know how to explain any of my things without addressing a lot of this: transphobia tw, transmisogyny tw, intersexism tw, homophobia tw, racism tw, csa tw, cocsa tw, childhood sexual trauma tw, medical abuse tw, ableism tw, idk like literally it's just my life idk how to give it enough labels to give fair warning.

under a read more because it's long

@fite-club

okay. there’s a lot to unpack here. i’m gonna first address the “stop sexualizing asexuality” thing— asexuality is about sexual attraction, it is inherently a sexual topic in nature. but you’re alarmingly wrong about something here, and it’s the “recognizing ways I was different from my peers” part as a 14 year old, you WEREN’T different from your peers for not experiencing sexual attraction. MOST 14 year olds don’t. you mention trauma in your past— this is extremely relevant. why do you believe that the majority of 14 year olds were sexual, who told you that? ike, yeah, hypothetically someone who identifies as ace at 14 and experiences sexual attraction at age 18 can change their label from asexual to allosexual. but will they ACTUALLY do that, though? or will they just call themselves a sex-favorable asexual? when you make lacking attraction a part of your identity, what happens to your sense of identity if you DO experience attraction? also i need to point out that there are literal biological functions that are not done developing until you are over 18. your body and brain and hormones are still growing. you definitely cannot say with any certainty that anyone below the age of 16 knows they experience sexual attraction or not finally i need you to understand that by emphasizing “hey, it’s actually completely fine and normal to not be interested in sex at all when you’re in high school” it actually helps prevent teens from being sexually abused. “most teens are allosexual” is NOT the message you want to be spreading.

"asexuality is about sexual attraction, it is inherently a sexual topic in nature."

this is part of what I feel most uncomfortable with. it is innately a conversation about sexuality, but that, too, to me, feels simplified to state as 'sexual' when people are constantly equating sexual with 'having sex' or 'having sexual desires'. developmentally it's a lot more complex than that, especially when you don't use a split attraction model or thoroughly separate/classify all aspects of orientation. I understand why people may break down their identities into the tiniest boxes they can imagine, but I actually don't navigate it that way at all.

I'm deeply uncomfortable with the idea that discussing sexuality is sexual. I know I'm repeating myself, I just am not sure if I'm clear. It's also deeply unsettling to me to see people, of any orientation, act like it's sexual for a child to state if they like boys or girls or whatever else. Or how people act like it's sexual for a child to have a gender identity separate from their assignment.

I will acknowledge the assignment I was given had impact on my feelings on this matter, I was hypersexualized throughout my childhood for being intersex, for publicly going also from 'boy' to 'girl', for my race. I understand that these add to my experiences and are part of why I was reacted to the way I was. That it was a catch-22 because if I had liked boys, I would've been performing gender wrong and if I had liked girls, I would've been performing gender wrong, and that no matter what space I took up, it would be 'incorrect.'

But this experience is mine. I was doomed to be sexualized no matter what I did in the environment I was a part of, and part of that relates to this idea that gender and sexuality in children when 'off the norm' is innately sexual. That if a child expresses a relationship to gender or orientation outside of boxes defined for them that it's somehow sexual.

I tried to define it to an anon earlier also but developmentally I am including things like how children will play-roles as well. A lot of my friends learned gender and orientation through how they wanted to do pretend games or how they felt unfulfilled by them. This isn't sexual, this isn't weird, it's a normal part of development. This includes children picking and pointing out fictional characters or celebrities to admire or joke about wanting to marry/have as a boyfriend/girlfriend/whatever. This includes the way children will also explore themselves through putting claims out like 'so and so is my boyfriend now' or whatever.

"you mention trauma in your past— this is extremely relevant. why do you believe that the majority of 14 year olds were sexual, who told you that?"

I know the trauma in my past is 'relevant.' I'm sure if I had not been further sexualized by adults and children alike for being intersex and the WAY I was intersex that I would not have the same relationship to any of this. As I stated, it's why I feel so strongly about some of it. I don't know who I would be without trauma, I can't just take my trauma aside and yes, I've gone through therapy, multiple attempts, some forced and some me trying to approach it carefully. It's why I tried to study developmental psychology.

I really dislike the statement 'why do you believe that the majority of 14 year olds were sexual'. I believe a majority of 14 year olds weren't and aren't asexual because a majority of the population is not asexual. It's a minority group. So is being gay. So is being trans. So is being intersex. If they feel strongly enough to identify as asexual, it is probably because they have an experience where it has made them feel othered, or at the very least uncomfortable. I don't even see why it matters if they're wrong about it. Nowadays they're constantly seeing people misidentify it as rooted in action, as in if you have sex or not, and some of them are probably very scared of the expectation of sex, and so they may label themselves incorrectly because they want to feel like they have support in language to communicate a perfectly normal boundary to have and when they get older, hopefully they recognize that.

That's part of why I dislike the fixation on if it's about sex or not! Or even the fixation people have on labels staying stagnant! Lots of people identify as straight or cis or whatever before realizing they're not, and it's okay also for them to have gotten it wrong the first or second or fiftieth time around idk. I have friends that still don't exactly know where they sit on both gender and orientation. I think that's normal! We have our whole lives to navigate!

But also 'who told you that'. Almost everyone around me except maybe some of the xtians (I'm not xtian) and mainly the xtians were more focused on telling me that 14 year old girls weren't interested in those kinds of things, which is why they must be 'protected' from 14 year old boys who are entirely too interested in it and my biology would make me unsafe even after I had, against my will, been medically altered due to complications with my hormones and body.

I don't know. I don't know how to explain what I grew up in. I don't know if it's different cultural expectations, I don't know if it's the ways I was seen as a threat by white people, I don't know. It's not 'who' told me that because 'who' was nearly everyone. But even if they weren't telling me that, even if they were telling me I was 'smart' for not dating or that I probably shouldn't date anyway or that no matter who I dated it would be weird, they also thought it was weird I had no actual interest at all. That I didn't admire celebrities or had crushes or expressed any future interest in it. People thought it was weird as hell I thought the entire construct of it was kind of fake, and yes, I was also autistic and so there was a level of them just thinking I was stupid and developmentally challenged because I was autistic, but that's also part of why they tried to 'fix' it, because my presentation was one where I could 'try' to fit.

But also I know lots of people who were raised xtian and expected to be girls who also got really messed up by the confusing explanations and expectations around it. That hurt themselves because they thought there was something gross or wrong with them as they hit perfectly normal developmental milestones. I was also the outlet for a lot of weird guilt and self-loathing from both boys and girls who viewed me as innately sexual for my relationship to gender. That viewed my medical changes as something somehow for them.

I know it's perfectly normal to not date at 14, I don't know how to be more clear about that, I don't know how to say 'yes I am aware plenty of 14 year olds are figuring themselves out, plenty of them don't know or fake crushes or even will explain they don't know if they've had them yet, I know plenty of them are definitely not interested in sex or dating' and also state 'this is why I'm saying it's not about sex! the ways I was othered and hypersexualized and desexualized are about all the tiny other ways I did not fit into the boxes I was supposed to!'

I was trying to express how having 'asexual' as a term helped me cope. Helped me be more compassionate to my peers. Continues to help me now. That's what labels are even for. That's their use. I was upset seeing someone say "#you’re 15!#you don’t want to have sex! that’s fine!#it’s not an identity!" about a niece identifying as asexual on a post discussing how the op's relationship to crushes/attraction has changed from having a lot of them as a teen to mellowing out a lot as an adult (which is normal, which is why I'm so! fucking confused! on the fucking pushback!!!! on me stating that it was othering! to be a child outside of that and attacked by adults and other children over it!!! and now I'm being told 'nothing about ur experience was abnormal' then why!!! was I constantly!!! told!!! it was!!!).

I mean I can tell you part of why. I am not fucking stupid. I am aware I was 'abnormal' also for my body and my brain and my race. Normalcy is socially constructed and upheld. Something can be atypical but not treated as abnormal, and something can be common but socially classified as abnormal for structural purposes. Like we say 'minority' for nonwhite people as if white people aren't actually STATISTICALLY globally the minority. (Yes, I know, that depending on your country, they are statistically a majority, but they only became the 'majority' in the country I'm in through horrific violence and even in countries where they are statistically the majority it's violently upheld as they push back against nonwhite people moving in blah blah blah, ie still socially upheld through structures).

Like I feel like somehow I'm having entirely different conversations about this.

"like, yeah, hypothetically someone who identifies as ace at 14 and experiences sexual attraction at age 18 can change their label from asexual to allosexual. but will they ACTUALLY do that, though? or will they just call themselves a sex-favorable asexual? when you make lacking attraction a part of your identity, what happens to your sense of identity if you DO experience attraction?"

Okay but I don't CARE? The stigma around changing your orientation label needs to go but also I don't care if they're wrong. It's irritating, yes, and often derails these spaces and discussions, but also like it's their life, I can't make them change their identity. I can just share information on how other people have expressed attraction and learning to navigate it and offer solutions and pose questions on how their relationship may have changed and give examples of people coming into it deeper in adulthood.

There are people that think they aren't ace because they don't care if they have sex, even though they aren't attracted to anyone, and eventually reach a point in their life, sometimes late in it, where they learn about it and go 'oh' and suddenly have a word for this thing that helps them better define their experiences. And I don't mean 18, 18 is so young.

What happens to people who identify legitimately as a gender or orientation they later realize doesn't fit them? I can't control them. I had a friend who thought she was straight and it took a lot of self-reflection for her to realize she was bisexual. She had to be out of an environment where her attraction to women was dismissed, desexualized, and recognized as equal and not diminished by her attraction to men.

I've had friends who had been neutral on men in their lives, who realized they were lesbians only in their 20s because they had been neutral about men they tried to date due to expectations. I know women who transitioned and tried to like men out of gender obligation, who had to work through those feelings and the root of them to actually understand their relationship to orientation.

If we allow space and discussion for the myriad of ways it presents or develops or can be defined, then this becomes less of a fixation point. The fragility of people's identities rooted in NEEDING to strictly define them is not helpful for many, especially younger people. I'm still younger people. I know people who've changed their identities in their 50s. I know there are people I don't personally know who have changed and played with their identities even later in life.

I use language the way I use language because I'm autistic and descriptionist. I can't stop people from being prescriptionist with theirs.

I understand the harm people experience when they cling to identities that no longer suit them. But I can't constantly stop people from harming themselves, I can't control them! I ALSO can feel uncomfortable or out of place when people try to relate to me and utilize the same terms I do but in completely different ways. I don't know how to interact when someone my age comes to me identifying as ace but then also being alarmed when I do not relate to the ways they categorize attraction or lack thereof. It can be very strange to do so. A lack of something is even harder to define than the existence of something.

"also i need to point out that there are literal biological functions that are not done developing until you are over 18. your body and brain and hormones are still growing. you definitely cannot say with any certainty that anyone below the age of 16 knows they experience sexual attraction or not"

Okay, and again, they can just change how they define it. People biologically change their whole lives. Menopause biologically changes people but it doesn't mean that for the period of their life before they may utilize labels to describe their experience before that point, or that those identities may still be important to them after that point.

I didn't say they always know or correctly define if they experience attraction or not? I don't think people can really say with any certainty until they have reason to feel certain. I think people can be 16 and not know and 25 and not know and 52 and not know.

As stated before, I'm intersex. I was also medically altered in a way that potentially is part of why I do not experience attraction idk. I know people who were medically altered similarly who do experience attraction. Idk. I would say 'I don't care' if it would have been different otherwise, but I do care actually, I care a lot, but my reality is what it is now and it has been incredibly harmful to me to try and 'treat' it. If something changes, I will change my identity, and not feel ashamed that I utilized language the way I needed to while it was relevant to me.

I'm autistic and intersex. I don't. I don't know how to phrase this but like. I have never been developmentally categorized as in the position of 'normal.' Because normal is socially defined and enforced. There are stages and ranges that are categorized as 'normal.' People who do not fit those stages or ranges are treated differently. Sometimes they utilize language for it. I don't. Like that's all it is to me.

"finally i need you to understand that by emphasizing “hey, it’s actually completely fine and normal to not be interested in sex at all when you’re in high school” it actually helps prevent teens from being sexually abused. “most teens are allosexual” is NOT the message you want to be spreading."

It is in fact true that emphasizing to children that it is their right and completely fine and acceptable and a boundary they can uphold to not be interested in sex in high school, this is good and useful and helpful. Giving them language for that is important, regardless of why they need it.

It is also important to help prevent abuse by giving them better language and resources on how they may be developing sexually and that they do not need to be ashamed of interest or engage in unsafe sexual practices as a way to explore that. I had friends literally manipulated by the idea that there was something shameful in their development that was only suitable for adults to 'manage' for them and it was part of their exploitation. This is in fact an aspect of abstinence-only education being a failure.

Children also need to be taught even if they ARE developing sexual interest, they can also develop boundaries around it anyway! Shame, confusion, hiding, whatever about this literally directly leads a lot of teenagers into the arms of predators. It alarms and concerns me this topic can somehow shift into statements that may further confuse these lines, so I want to be very clear.

And I want to also state I don't. Ugh. I don't think children by and large actually are easily defined as 'majority straight' or 'majority allosexual' or anything like that. I think that obviously the majority of people meet that, hence my earlier statement of noticing a kind of othering, but I don't actually think that means it's fair to label hordes of children as either straight or allosexual or even cis because it is in fact typical that they wouldn't even know or have a definitive enough relationship to it.

Feeling drawn to describing an experience you have with language that is about how you've felt othered doesn't even mean no one else involved could later define themselves with those terms. Some of the people who were cruel to me found out later they were boys or found out later they were girls or found out later they were gay or found out later they were intersex in a different way from me even.

I AGREE that children should be taught they are allowed to have boundaries??? I agree that children should be taught it's acceptable and valid and completely within their right to not have crushes or interest in dating or interest in sex or be more focused on their other experiences (like poverty, like disability, like race, like trauma, like education, like gender, like media interests, like whatever else??) over defining themselves and their gender and their orientation?

I think we should in fact encourage that it is okay to not know or not need to know yet. I think we should encourage people to realize they don't have to rush experiences they aren't ready for. I have friends whose first relationship was 25 and they never identified as ace or aro, they just were never in a position to get into that part of themselves for a variety of reasons. I don't. I do not understand the reaction to what I've said.

I was upset because an individual child individually defined themselves and some adult in their life was alarmed by a fairly simple identity that was not in any way some permanent or damning aspect. I'm upset because in 2020 I saw some adult literally tell a middle-grade child who identified as asexual on the internet they were 'attracting pedophiles' by identifying publicly as ace. An adult thought it was appropriate to define it that way and say that kind of thing to a child because of the child's identity. A whole lot of other adults agreed with it and kept going on about the inherently sexual nature of the term meant to describe an orientation.

It's just weird. When I told my mom in high school, she became fixated on the ways she might have broken me or made me that way. She became focused on listing all the possible other explanations and getting me to counseling and then devolved into belittling me for it, when all it was was an explanation for how I felt I was experiencing the world. It helped my friends be kinder to me. It helped me be kinder to my friends. It still helps me navigate the ways I may be unable to relate to others.

#idk #acephobia #idk I just feel like ppl need this tagged bc it's very upsetting??? #other trigger warnings listed before read more

[ladyimaginarium]

okay so. here's the audio recording of me& doing my& best to explain my& story. although graphic images and descriptions won't be used, heavy content warning for discussions of csa, h.uman t.rafficking, antinative racism and genocide, specifically of our native girls, women and two spirited people, as well as our boys and men. viewer's discretion is heavily advised. i& only ask that mutuals & close friends reblog this and to not repost this without my& consent. for any natives out there who may read this: we& love you. we& support you. please take care of yourselves in any way you can, whether that's talking to a friend or trusted family member or calling a hotline such as the stronghearts helpline ( usa ) or the hope for wellness helpline ( canada ), where natives & all indigenous peoples in "canada" are offered services in both english & in french, or upon request, anishinaabemowin / ojibwe / ᐊᓂᐦᔑᓈᐯᒧᐎᓐ, cree / ᓀᐦᐃᔭᐍᐏᐣ & inuktitut / ᐃᓄᒃᑎᑐᑦ & from personal experience calling there several times for my& own personal needs, their services are absolutely excellent, they have experienced and culturally competent counsellors that are reachable by telephone and online ‘chat’ 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, or smudging depending on your practice or doing something you love. i& know this week is hard for all of us, myself& included, even those who aren't personally affected, as an elder once described to me& that this is an overall intergenerational community trauma that affects everyone who's native, regardless of skintone, other intersecting identities or status. you are loved. i& love you. i& support you. i& just called the hotline just now for my& own needs & they are a tremendous help, and i& also smudged & did the sacred ceremonies. please check out this mmigw2s carrd for resources and this mmigw2s google document for information. i& will be sharing more statistics i've& found over the years later today & possibly things i& felt like i& may have missed in the audio & likely for the rest of the week. my& name is angel & i'm& the host/core/singletsona of the imaginarians galaxy, an indigenous indigiqueer & two spirited professionally dxed udd system & a medically recognized multigenic did system; today is a very important for us&, although we& don't personally know anyone who's gone missing or murdered, but bc all natives are related & are interconnected with each other & bc family is more than who you're genetically related to, it hits really close to home as a two spirit person & the intergenerational trauma hits hard. please understand that we& don't intend on hurting anyone while telling my& story as i& only have my& own experiences but if i& get smth wrong, n.atives, pls correct me&, and we& ask that nonnatives wear red today to honor those who went missing & murdered. if you want to ask questions, you can contact us& on discord, 【 𝕬𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐀 ♥ 】||【𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓘𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓼】#2830, just make sure to let us& know who you are first, i& will not be answering publicly for our& own mental health, but make sure to compensate us&, i& will not be answering questions freely especially ones that are so traumatic at the expense of my& health, trauma & emotional exhaustion. find out who's land you're on. support native artists and creatives. fight for our rights. fight for our land back. just be aware that i& can only offer our& own experiences as a white seeming reconnecting two spirited urban native bodied system. if you want to donate, you can donate here to our& p.ayp.al, but keep in mind that you are absolutely not required to donate anything ever, however, if you want to leave a donation, i’m& keeping that option open, i& am grateful for anything, but please never feel like you absolutely have to, if you feel like people in your online/offline communities have more urgent needs and therefore should be prioritized in terms of support, absolutely please feel free to help them instead/first ( if you have the funds to help multiple people, anyway! ) NO MORE STOLEN SISTERS & SIBLINGS. EVERY CHILD MATTERS. LAND BACK.

#arcana.txt #mine. #tw; antinative racism #tw; genocide #tw; long post #tw; human trafficking #tw; csa #** topic; missing & murdered indigenous women girls boys men & two spirits. #this was. really difficult for me& to record so please be respectful. #i& d.issociated a lot too. OOF

[hhthr]

BEFORE YOU SCROLL...

Hi! You can refer to me as Heath, but may recognize me under other aliases such as @certified-clownwave :] I'm a 21 y/o Queer, AFAB. Okay with any male/androgynous identifiers. I'm a Switch, so there will be a mix of content here for Sub and Dom.

This is a side blog attached to my main, so I follow, message and reply through @certified-clownwave, unless you message me first here.

PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT OR FOLLOW IF YOU ARE A MINOR/HAVE NO AGE IN YOUR BIO. You will be immediately blocked otherwise.

~ I will edit this later to add links to a Ko-Fi and Fansly if I make them ~

CONTENT YOU WILL FIND HERE...

» Sensual audios. Mostly of me, but if others included, will tag properly. ~ Always willing to collaborate ;] ~

» Brat behavior: begging, pleading, teasing, sass. Praise is a huge aspect in that as well.

» Voyeur/Exhibitionism. Love the idea of having your eyes on me <3

» Breeding. Need I say more? Who doesn't love a good creampie.

» BDSM. This includes rope, leather, restraints, etc. Also under the same umbrella is masochism/sadism kinks, choking, marking (scratching/biting), so on and so forth.

» Other Queer/LGBT+ blogs/creators. I have a strong belief in supporting other accounts in the same community!

Feel free to message and send whatever you please, I will do my best to answer and respond to it <3

TAG LIST

#HHTHR - Anything made by me.

#Dom #Switch #Sub - Posts correlated with whatever you're feeling content-wise.

#CNC - Consensual Non-Consent. This will be used for anything I make that could fall under a category of 'non-consent'. I am NOT going to make any r@pe mentions or content, as a victim it is hard for me to discuss and make content around that. This tag will not be very common, and if used, I will put Content Warnings at the top of the post.

#Text - Anything without images, audio, gifs, etc. will be tagged as Text. These posts will not always have SFT or NSFT tags.

#SFT #NSFT - Safe/Not Safe for Tumblr. NSFT posts will be changed to avoid being taken down, so look for the tagged reblogs of them to find the content.

#RB - Reblogs. Tag for when I reblog so you can find the content I made.

~ Will add as I make and use more tags ~

STRONG NO'S

» Piss/Scat/Emetophilia. Not interested.

» Anal. As of right now, I have no inclination or curiosity about doing anal. I'd prefer to stay off that topic till I decide to explore it.

» No Femme Terms. I am not okay with being referred to as a woman, girl, etc.

» DDLG. I may reblog from profiles that engage in DDLG, but I do not explicitly post or have interest in that community. If I reblog from anyone who has a problematic history with that, please let me know.

If you have any questions, inquiries, curiosities or want to just talk with me, don't be afraid to reach out <3

#text #HHTHR #about

[philatelyfellationist]

Read This First!!

This is the equivalent to an FAQ

This Blog In General

Why call yourself “The Gay Philatelist”? Why is your blog named “philatelyfellationist”?

The short answer to both of these is that I’m a gay dude who’s really into postage. In regards to my blog name there is a long answer as well though. Philately and fellatio sound vaguely similar, additionally gay men were sometimes called fellationists a long time ago (thought technically it just means anyone who performs fellatio). Finally, stamp collecting is often seen as a boring and very unsexy hobby so I think the juxtaposition is very funny.

Why even mention that you’re gay?

Because I am. It’s an important part of who I am. Gay people exist literally everywhere, even in your communities, even in stamp collecting. Get over it

Why make it so inappropriate?

Because I’m a grown ass adult and I’m not a fan of censoring myself in spaces with other grown ass adults for the sake of advertisers or a few children without parental guidance

Do you still think it’s funny?

(Yes) / No / Kind of

What is the point of this blog?

I want to help spread the joy of stamp collecting and help people realize that it isn’t just a boring hobby for grandpas! I also want to spread information about philately, topics in stamp collecting, interesting history, and guides for beginners. Together we can keep the hobby alive but only if we bring in new people! I also want to be able to share my own personal stamp collection! It’d be cool if I was able to meet some people through here as well :D

What tags do you use?

You can find a list of my commonly used tags here <insert link>. I also tag posts with relevant topical tags (i.e. if I post about a stamp with a bird I’ll use the tag “bird”). Additionally you’re likely to see tags on many posts which are meant to improve reach. Finally I may include notes in my tags that don’t really fit with the vibe of the post

Can you tag “x” for me?

I do my best to put reasonable content warnings on any post that might need them. That being said if I mess up and don’t tags something or tag it incorrectly please feel free to let me know, I can always improve. However, while I absolutely understand that it can be difficult if you’re triggered by something seemingly mundane however I only use the “cw xxxx” or “cw: xxxx” format for content which may be generally sensitive or triggering. I do try to tag all of my posts topically though so if you have a certain triggering tag blocked (i.e. the “birds” tag) it shouldn’t show up for you

Is your blog family friendly? After all it’s just about stamps

While I do believe that the oneness is on guardians to decide what is and isn’t appropriate for their children I recognize that this isn’t always possible and that there are vulnerable minors out there. For that reason I want to disclose right here and now that I would not consider this blog “family friendly”. Some potentially inappropriate material on this blog could include: sensitive historical and modern topics, discussions of bigotry and other potentially sensitive subjects in the philately community, discussions of politics/political subjects, and (because I cuss a lot) inappropriate language. I also actively choose not to engage with minors privately (i.e. through DMs) so if you’re a minor feel free to interact but if you message me I will ignore it

Do you include photo descriptions for visually impaired, low sight, blind, and other individuals who utilize screen readers?

Yes, I write custom descriptions for photos I upload on this blog, I may not do this for photos which I have reblogged however. I unfortunately do not include the Tumblr Alt Text because it is nearly impossible for me to proof it with the screenreader I use. I use the format “(Photo Description: this is a description of the photo I have uploaded)”. If you have a problem with the way I described a photo please feel free to message me

About Stamp Collecting

Why stamps?

Because they’re amazing little pieces of art work and history all rolled into one! They can tell you a lot about a particular country or time period and they’re also just dope to look at! I also find them very soothing to sort and it’s a hobby which requires me to slow down and act carefully while getting to enjoy something very beautiful.

What kind of stamps do you collect?

As with any collector I collect stamps that are personally interesting to me. Generally for me that means stamps which are either particularly visually interesting or tied to some period of history that I like. I’m a big fan of propaganda related stamps, stamps I think are cute or particularly beautiful, and stamps from Middle Eastern countries and Japan. I don’t collect stamps predominantly from any one country or time period. The majority of my collection is from the 1970’s or earlier. The countries best represented in my collection are Japan, Russia, and South Korea and the region best represented is the Middle East. Additionally while I don’t currently have any I have a soft spot in my heart for, and desperately want, stamps related to the LGBTQ community and queer history

How do you store your stamps?

I personally use off-brand Vario style stamp pages in a 1.5 inch school/office style binder. I prefer this setup because it’s cheaper than an album or binder designed for stamp collecting, I can expand it over time, and it allows me to move entire pages quickly and easily. I use pages which have 6 rows because I prefer for my stamps to not have any overhang when possible.

Do you sell stamps?

Currently I do not and I don’t really intend to in the future

Where do you get stamps?

I use HipStamp for single stamps as well as Ebay on occasion. For sets I predominantly use Ebay but I have bought a few off HipStamp as well. I’ve had the best luck with Etsy for mixed lot random or “kiloware” stamps but I basically never buy stamps from there otherwise. I’ve heard good things about Stamp2Go but have never used them (their website is too inaccessible for me). I also get stamps “by approval” which is a service where I get sent stamps, pick the ones I want and pay for them then send the rest back.

Where can I get <specific stamp> you mentioned?

HipStamp or Ebay are the best places to find specific stamps you want in my opinion. I try to put the Scott catalogue reference number for stamps I post, if you have that number you can search the country it’s from and the reference number and you’ll usually be able to find it. If you don’t know the reference number your best bet will either be a) searching the country name and year and potentially including keywords (like if it has a particular animal on it including that) or b) trying to find the reference number. Do note that there are other catalogues besides the Scott catalogue and they have their own reference numbers.

Isn’t stamp collecting boring?

I know a lot of people think it is. It’s certainly not the most high octane hobby out there. I personally find it soothing and very interesting though. I have autism + ADHD and stamp collecting is very regulatory for me. Being able to look at my stamps brings me a lot of joy and there very much is a thrill when you finally find a stamp you’ve been searching for. If you think it’s boring that’s fine but I hope to share the excitement of stamp collecting through this blog

Is collecting stamps expensive?

It doesn’t have to be. There are thousands of stamps being sold for under a dollar. Hell, most of my collection cost me $0.05 to $0.10 per stamp! There are also plenty of ways to get stamp supplies for cheap as well like using an office binder with page inserts or keeping them in envelopes. It really is a hobby that you can spend as much or as little as you want on

Help! I inherited a stamp collection!

That can be either a blessing or a curse depending on how you feel about stamp collecting. While I’m not a stamp appraiser feel free to message me if you’re in this situation and I’ll try my best to help out. That being said I’m probably not going to buy the whole collection off you. There are lots of ways to get rid of a collection you don’t want though and I’ll try my best to help! As an aside I highly recommend not asking random people online if they can appraise your stamps or if they want to buy them, you’re probably just going to end up disappointed.

I’m Only Going To Say This Once

“Do you think my stamp is valuable?”

I don’t know. I don’t appraise stamps. There’s a lot that goes into what makes a stamp valuable beyond just what type or stamp it is or how old it is. I highly recommend not going around to random people online and asking how much your stamps are worth. They probably don’t appraise stamps and you can end up with information that doesn’t help you at all. If you have a stamp that you think is rare or valuable I recommend finding the reference number for it and looking it up on a stamp buying/selling site. If you search for it on Ebay ignore any listing that “sold” for much more than other stamps of the same type with only 1 bid. These generally aren’t genuine.

“I’m going to become a millionaire by finding and selling a rare stamp!”

Yeah, probably not. As great as it would be to buy some old stamp collection and find The Rarest Stamp Worth $100,000,000 it’s very unlikely. What’s more likely is that you’re going to buy an old stamp collection, spend many many hours you do not enjoy sorting through it, find a few stamps worth $5+ and a lot more worth a few cents. It’s very likely that you’ll have your hopes dashed several times as well when you list some of your stamps for more than they’re worth to try to recoup your losses only for no one to but them. Especially if you don’t have knowledge about stamps it can be extremely difficult to appraise the value of what you have. The difference between a stamp worth $20 and one that’s a “space filler” can be easy to miss. This is not to discourage anyone from buying stamp lots or old collections, nor from selling stamps, but I highly recommend doing so because you like the hobby not because you’re hoping to find The One and get rich. And one final thing to remember: a stamp is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it. Just because someone bought a similar stamp for a million dollars at one time doesn’t mean you’re going to get a million dollars for it.

“Do you have any rare or valuable stamps?”

I currently don’t and in all honesty I probably never will. Most of my stamps are incredibly cheap and common and most rare/valuable stamps just don’t appeal to me. I don’t collect stamps for their rarity or monetary value, I collect them because they bring me joy

“You should get this stamp!”

I’m always open to recommendations for stamps! That being said if you wanna make a stamp recommendation please consider if you think it fits well in my collection. I don’t really have any interest in stamps depicting monarchs or presidents, most modern stamps, or most Western European stamps. However, I’m always happy to make a post about specific stamps! Just ask me and I’ll tell you all about it!

“Do you have this stamp?”

Probably not. You can check out my stamp inventory here <insert link> to see if I have a particular stamp

“Why is your collection so small?”

I’ve only been building my own stamp collection for less than a year after researching philately and building a wish list for a few years. This is predominantly because I don’t have a lot of money and had other interests I preferred to spend my time and money on. However, ever since I broke the seal I’ve been in love with collecting stamps not just researching them

About Me

Are you an old man?

Not yet but I hope to be one when I grow up

Who am I? Like as a person

I’m a silly lil guy. It’s hard to describe myself without just giving a list of characteristics. Very notable is the fact I have ASPD, if that bothers you this probably isn’t the space for you. Other than that I’m an intersex to male trans man in my 20’s. I live in the United States. I’m gay, aromantic and asexual, ambiamorous and married to the most amazing guy ever non-romantically. I have a bunch of other collections notably bones, found items, stuffed animals, and model horses. As well I do a bunch of crafty, artistic, and nerdy things. I have autism (generalized level 2, significant impairment) and ADHD, I’m physically disabled, mentally ill, and a trauma survivor. I survived a fundamental cult and conversion therapy. I like to research comparative religions, archeology, and funerary practices. Probably going to become a mortician and funeral director. Punk and anarchist, Nazi punks (and Nazis in general) fuck off. I’m definitely more of a cat person than a dog person. I’m a short king. The weirdest fact about me isn’t actually that I collect stamps, it’s probably that I’m a psychological therian which means I identify as a non-human animal for psychological reasons (namely my autism and trauma). If wanna know more I have a much more extensive About Me here <insert link>

Why mention any of that?

Because I think it’s important for people to recognize that I am a complete, complex person and that this blog only represents a single interest of mine. Additionally I think some people might find it interesting to know a little more about me. Finally, as it relates to stamp collecting, I want people to understand that stamps collectors aren’t just old retired men or the most extreme stereotypical nerd. Anyone can be a stamp collector

Just Silly Things

“Wow your stamp collection is so sexy! We should get married/have graphic intercourse!”

While I appreciate the compliment, I am unfortunately married. If reincarnation ends up being the true afterlife maybe you can find me in the next life though!

“I don’t like something you said and would like to duel you”

If you live in one of the two states in the USA with mutual combat laws or are willing to travel to one I will accept a request for a bare knuckle fight however I no longer duel to the death

Do I think the US Post Office is going to die out?

It is unfortunately a possibility but I sincerely hope not. In case it wasn’t clear I’m a massive fan of the post office and I also think they’re a super important establishment. While many people may prefer private shipping companies I sincerely hope the post office continues to stick around for a very long time and luckily I think they will as they are essential for delivery of non-package mail.

Is stamp collecting punk?

I think so! They’re tiny pieces of art that are accessible to the common folk! They’re tiny pictographs of history! If they’re used, older stamps then somebody probably licked them which isn’t necessarily punk but kinda is? Plus I like it so that makes it punk

Contacting me

Where else can I find you?

Currently this is the only platform I’m on but I may end up starting a philately TikTok. If I do I’ll update post!

Can I message you? Can I send an ask? How about anonymously? Can I submit a post? Can I request a post?

Absolutely yes to all of the above! I will try to respond directly to any (good faithH messages I get! In regards to asks and post submissions I will make an attempt to look through them all and respond to and/or post those which I think are interesting. If I don’t respond to something you send feel free to send something else! Additionally feel free to send a request for any stamps you would like me to talk about! You can also request for me to show and talk about any of the stamps in my collection if I haven’t already!

Are there any guidelines for asks/submissions/requests? How do I make a request?

I have an in-depth post here <insert link> that goes over this

If you follow me will it be through this blog?

Unfortunately because Tumblr is the way it is I’ll have to follow you though my main blog which is @queeresthellhound

Is there anyone who shouldn’t interact with you?

I don’t think DNIs really do anything but I personally choose not to engage directly (i.e. through DM) with minors (those under 18), deeply religious people, or those who are disrespectful of or bigoted towards people with cluster B personality disorders

I don’t give a fuck about stamps but you seem cool

Thank you completely random hypothetical that I just made up! You can check out my main blog @queeresthellhound or message me! I love meeting new people :)

#long post #about me #about my blog

[pyroweasel]

Curiosity question, feel free to spread it around cause I'm very curious.

Do you find red food coloring, in frosting specifically, to be very bitter? Like you get a cupcake or cake from the store with red (or often even pink sometimes orange) frosting and find it very bad to taste?

#Funny enough it's usually not an issue in whipped frosting just the thicker stuff #But that same frosting could come in literally any other flavor and be fine #But red based is just so bitter #I remember having this convo with people in college and my roommate agreed but the others were like 'no??' #Food #Anyone who wants to answer or reblog feel free but I do recognize this may be uniquely American? #Reblog bait

[itsapeterthing]

Secrets (Four) || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: when you wake up in the avengers compound after being saved by bucky, sam and nat, you discover that something’s changed.

a/n: thank you for all your feedback!! reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: arguing, swearing, angst

Prologue, One, Two, Three

masterlist || request || taglist

Opening your eyes, blinking to clear your vision, you were immediately met with ice coating the ceiling above you despite feeling as though you were locked in a sauna.

“What the-”

Sitting up in your bed, you tried to piece together where you were, why you were here and what had just happened, but all you could see was the concrete room you were sat in with nothing but a bright light shining above you and frost coating every inch of the room.

Suddenly the events of the day all came back to you- the men in your house, being kidnapped, being locked in a container to freeze to death... the truth about your husband.

Bucky.

The last thing you remembered were his eyes meeting yours on the other side of the glass.

Despite years of marriage and precious memories, all that flooded your brain were the images of the Winter Soldier- masked and ready to kill. All you could hear were the screams of his victims and those who fled at the sight of him. 

All you could feel was fear.

“You’re awake.” You heard an unfamiliar voice declare.

Snapping your attention towards the door of the room you hadn’t even noticed was there, you recognized the very familiar red-headed Avenger standing in the doorway.

“Wait, you’re.... are you-” You stumbled over your words. “Where am I?”

Carefully stepping into the room, closing the door behind her, Natasha slowly made her way over to your bed.

“You’re at the Avengers Compound.” She informed you. “Do you remember anything?”

You thought then that she might have been glad to learn that you had retained your memory, but you sure wished you hadn’t.

“More than I’d like to.” You said.

Shooting you a sad smile, her gloved hands pulled up the chair next to your bed, seating herself beside you. As she did you finally took in her appearance, noting the large jacket she was wearing, the hood over her head and thick gloves on her hands, meanwhile you felt as though you were soaking in your own sweat.

“God, how are you wearing that?” You asked, pointing at her jacket. “It’s so hot in here.”

Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair.

“Well when you’re ninety degrees, I guess an ice rink would feel a little warm.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you sat up straighter in your bed.

“Ninety degrees?” You asked. “Shouldn’t I be dead by now?”

“That’s what we all thought.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you remembered the feeling of the frost hitting your skin when you were enclosed in the container, the sounds of the cold air rushing out of its walls. You were trapped, feeling the biting cold in a way you never had before. So cold that when the frost began to form over the glass, your husband’s eyes meeting yours, all you could feel was the cooling sense of exhaustion wash over you as you closed your eyes and fell into a deep slumber.

“How long have I been out?” You asked.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth, you heard a voice coming from the other side of the room.

“Two days.”

Your eyes snapping open, you turned your attention immediately to the man in the doorway. When you saw your husband standing in the threshold, you felt your heart begin to race in your chest as you scrambled back against the bed frame.

“You.” You said, swallowing, the word venomous in your mouth.

Hearing the word slip out of your mouth almost as though it were a cruse, Bucky’s eyes widened and he began to feel his heart beat against his chest.

He knew then that the consequence of the secret he had been keeping for years was now staring him back in the face.

“Y/n-” He eased, taking another step forward.

Grabbing the pillow from behind your back, you tossed it at him.

“You lied to me!” You shouted. “You fucking lied to me all these years. I- it’s sick!”

Letting the pillow hit his chest, he began to feel sick.

He had known deep down that someday his past would come back to haunt him. Even deeper down he knew that someday you would discover the truth, but he had hoped to be gone by then, leaving you to hate him once he could no longer feel your wrath. He had shoved down the idea of the look on your face when you found out for years, but now as he stood there, his own nightmares playing out before him, he just wished he had told the truth sooner.

The consequence of losing you and never having you was better than knowing your love and having it tainted with hatred by his own hand.

“Doll,” He said your pet name, his shoulders slouching.

“No!” You shouted, pushing yourself off of the bed. “You don’t get to call me that anymore! God, did ever even feel bad about lying to your own wife?”

He did.

He felt awful every time he made up some lie about his past. He felt awful every time he told you he had no family, no friends. He even felt awful every morning when he lied to you about where he was going off to work every day.

It had been eating away at him for years.

He had told himself that it was for the best, but he realized now that he didn’t do it for you, but entirely for himself. He had been so incredibly selfish and you were now paying for his crimes.

“Of course I did.” Bucky said so low, it was nearly a whisper. “Of course I felt bad, Y/n.”

Before you could reply, you heard another knock on the door, it cracking open slightly.

“Oh thank God.” Natasha said from her seat when she saw Bruce and Sam.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you turned away from your husband, instead focussing your attention on the two Avengers now entering the icy space.

Before anyone could speak, however, the man you recognized as Captain America made his way over to you, reaching his gloved hand out for you to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m Sam. I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances, but...”

Glaring at Bucky, you shook Sam’s hand.

“Sam.” You said. “It’s so nice to finally meet you too.”

Your eyes still on your husband, the three others in the room glanced between one another before Bruce cleared his throat.

“Y- you’re probably wondering about the ice in the room,” Bruce said

“You could say that.”

“Well, while you were out for the past couple of days we had some of the best doctors we know examine you,” Bruce explained. “I understand that this may be... difficult... to understand, but this- this ice- it’s-”

“It’s coming out of you.” Sam said finally, finishing Bruce’s sentence for him.

Quirking your eyebrows at the three members of the group of Avengers, you thought for a second before shaking your head, laughing.

“You’re joking, right?” You asked. “You have to be kidding.”

This couldn’t be real. There was no possible way you actually had ice coming out of your body. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t real.

Standing up from her seat, Natasha crossed her arms.

“When you were in cryo, you were in temperatures nobody comes back from.” She said, seriously. “You should be dead right now. No one knows why you’re still here.”

Lifting your hands from your sides to stare at your palms, you attempted to digest the information the three of them had just fed you.

You were alive when every logical answer said you shouldn't have been. You had abilities that no other living person did.

You were supposed to be at home, spending the weekend with your children. You were supposed to wait for your completely honest husband to walk in the doors of your home and kiss him hello.

But now you were standing there, being told that you had changed- transformed. You were different than you were before. You didn’t feel warm and fuzzy, but cold and distraught.

Feeling the anger course through your veins, tears meeting your eyes, you stared at your palms and in a flash, frost burst forth from the center of your hand.

Jumping back, you rapidly closed your hands into a fist, feeling your heart thumping against your chest.

“I understand that this is hard to take in-” Banner attempted.

“I’m... I’m a monster.” You said, staring up at them with wide eyes. “I have ice coming out of my hands!”

Gazing at you from the other side of the room, watching the fear in your eyes behind the tears begging to break free, Bucky felt incredibly guilty.

He had known what you were going through because he had gone through the same himself. He had woken up only to discover that he had become a super  soldier with a metal arm- that he was no longer Bucky Barnes- but someone else- someone different.

He would have never wished the experience on his worst enemy, never mind the woman he cared for most in the world, but you were experiencing it nonetheless. You were in it because of him.

He had told himself that he was trying to protect you, but in the end he had forced you into a life you had never asked for.

He felt his heart shatter in his chest watching you fall apart before everyone.

All he wished was for him to be able to go over to you, to hold you in his arms despite the cold bite of ice that was sure to frost over him as soon as his skin met yours, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew you didn’t want him to.

“Y/n that’s not true.” Sam said. “I know it might feel that way, but you’re still you and Bruce is going to figure out a way for you to control it. I know it seems bad, but you’re going to be okay. You’re a part of our family now. We’ll figure it out, alright?”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you nodded.

“Okay.”

As much as you were in shock, you trusted the three individuals in front of you. They hadn’t given you a reason not to- they had risked their lives to save you and even now when you felt they owed you nothing, they were working their best to help you.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You said. “Really. I think I just need some space right now.”

“I understand.” Sam nodded. “If you need anything, we’ll be right outside.”

Without a word the others followed him as he left the room and you slowly made your way over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, placing your head in your hands.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

Shaking your head you pulled your face out of your hands.

“What part of ‘I need space’ don’t you understand, Buck?” You asked.

You heard his footsteps slowly cross over the room to you.

“I need to say something-”

Of course he did.

“Oh that’s rich, James!” You scoffed. “Funny how now you have something to say. Funny how you didn’t say anything when we started dating, or got married, or God- had children together.”

“Y/n-”

“It’s just so insane to me how you could go all this time without saying anything.” You continued. “How could you even look yourself in the mirror-”

“Fuck, Y/n, just listen to me!” He shouted, standing in front of your spot on the bed. “I fucked up really bad- I know that. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but can’t you see why I did it? I was so afraid you’d be ashamed of me because of what I am and I thought I was protecting you-”

Feeling the ice beginning to shoot out of your palm, you pushed yourself off of the bed, pointing your finger into your husband’s chest.

“I’m ashamed to have a liar as a husband.” You said, knowing just how much the words stung for him, but you felt nothing but ice flowing through you at the moment in the heat of rage. “How could you think this was protecting us? How could you think keeping the truth from me was protecting our kids? You not only put me in danger but my kids, Buck.”

“They’re my kids too, Y/n.” Bucky said.

“Are they?” You asked. “Because I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

You watched as he stepped back, his back hitting the icy wall behind him. He had known you were angry, he even knew that he deserved every harsh word you were throwing at him, but to hear you dismiss him so entirely- to almost denounce him from your life- made him feel a pain that even his worst days in Hydra or in recovery could never rival.

“I- I mean I don't even know who I am anymore, Buck.” You said throwing your arms in the air. “I mean look at this. Look at this room! Nobody can even touch my hand without gloves or without bundling up like they’re going to the fucking North Pole!”

Backing away from him, you held your face in your hands once again.

“I don’t even recognize myself and I’m all alone.” You said, lowering your voice. “I- I can’t even hug my kids- I can’t see my kids. It’s so hot in this room to me but everything just feels so cold and empty. I just wish you didn’t fucking lie to me because it would be so much easier to not hate you the way I do right now. Looking at you makes me want to scream but, God, I feel so alone.”

Beginning to feel a sob catch in your throat, your head still in your hands and the tears turning to ice when they met your palms, you felt the cool touch of Bucky’s vibranium hand meet your arm. 

Shrugging him off, you shook your head.

“As much as I fucking hate you right now, you can’t touch me, James.” You said. “I’ll just hurt you.”

He knew that. He knew the biting sting of your ice against his skin. He had spent the past two days sitting by your unconscious side and no matter how many times the others told him to keep his gloves on at all times, your touch mattered more. They brought more warmth than any glove could- no matter how cold your hands were.

Seeing you breakdown in front of him, despite all of the harsh words you had thrown at him, he was sure he felt his heart break in his chest. You didn’t deserve this pain. You didn’t deserve this suffering. You didn’t deserve to be alone.

Resting his vibranium hand on your arm once again, the frost slowly creeping up his arm, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Wrapping both of his arms around you, he pulled you into his embrace. Rather than shrugging him off and pulling away, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, digging your face into his bundled up chest, sobbing.

Feeling a chill run throughout his body at your touch, he rest his chin on the top of your head, running his frozen vibranium arm up and down your back.

Although he knew that all was not forgiven, and that things would not be the same or even okay for a long time- if at all- all that mattered to him in that moment was that you weren’t alone. No matter the ice that overtook his body when you were in his embrace, the warmth that you brought him would never grow cold.

Going into cyro ten thousand times would be worth just one second of your peace and he would do whatever it took for you to forgive him for his mistakes that you now bore the consequences of.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes angst

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal -Ch. 13

Chapter Summary: Old memories come back to you. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: angsty internal thoughts, no Bucky this chapter.  

A/N: Here it is. I’m sorry I ended up not reblogging all the comments on last chapter before I post this one, but I’ve read and cherish them all, please don’t doubt that. Thank you, incredible Suz, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer you’re a Queen around here. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

You bet that if you told anyone about the scene playing out in your apartment right now, people would scoff their asses off at your face: Saturday afternoon, your living room, the Leader of the Avengers Tech Team, the Director of SHIELD – probably the most powerful organization in the world- and one of the scariest, if not the scariest spy to ever walk on earth. All three of you sitting on your carpet, barefeet, wearing tops and tiny shorts due the heat brought by the bright sun slipping through your windows. A big bowl of popcorn in the center and innumerous chocolate bars everywhere. 

Those afternoons with the three of you are a rare event. First, you had your relationship with Eddie to blame, but now it’s mainly due to your work schedules that almost never are in sync, but whenever there’s an opportunity, there you are.

Your phone's message alerts ringing together bursts into the conversation and the three of you grab your devices simultaneously. You were dreading to see what it was, sure it was something from work, but a huge smile widens in your lips at what you see on your screen.

“Jesus…” Nat says, while, laughing, you three turn the screens to one another, confirming you have received the same message. “Bucky’s a lost cause with that cat. That’s the millionth picture I received of her this week. And she’s always doing something extremely exciting like… sleeping.” She rolls her eyes.

“But we have to admit that little asshole is kinda cute,” Sharon comments looking back at her screen and the picture of the, indeed, sleeping cat.

“She is, right?” You agree, with a huge smile on your face. You and Alpine may have had a somewhat rough start, but you can’t help but admit she’s an adorable little jerk who’s just very protective of her human.

“By the way,” Natasha smirks at you, putting her phone back on her pocket, “I had no idea that was what he meant when he said he would romance the shit out of you.”

“It suits perfectly, though,” Sharon comments, shaking her head and laughing with her.

“It does. Shame on me, I should’ve known better.” Nat agrees.  

“He said that?” You ask with peaked interest you try to disguise in the quietness of your tone while you bite the corner of your lips.

The curiosity in the information doesn’t go unnoticed by them, who just snicker at each other. You decide to ignore that.

“The dude is smitten, Y/N, wake the fuck up.” Natasha not so gently throws a popcorn right on your face.

“Hey,” you whine.

“And so is she, giving that little dreamy look on her face. Wake the fuck up indeed.” Sharon sides with Nat with a huff.

“I’ve created two monsters…” Nat comments like you weren’t even in the room, referring to the fact she is the one who brought you two together.

“It’s not like that…” You barge in their little interaction, catching their attention, before folding your legs up and holding your knees, “I mean… yeah, of course… I can’t help having feelings for Bucky, I mean… he’s…” you pause, searching for the right words to describe him, “He’s Bucky.” You shrug… a small smile curling your lips, “He’s Bucky…” you repeat with a sigh while your gaze wanders away…

It’s just you don’t really need anything else to justify why it’s so inevitable to grow feelings for him and your friends catch on to what you mean, because when you look back at them, they both have stupid and dreamily little looks at you… ones that don’t fit to a couple of spies. 

You clear your throat, letting your initial line of thoughts come back to you, “But it’s not that simple… There’s…’ you falter.

“There’s what?” Nat insists, in a kind way.

But “Who” was the more proper pronoun.

“Eddie…” You whisper.

“Argh…” Sharon groans, tilting her face to her side before, looking back at you, “What about Eddie?”

It was just yesterday that you had your little “encounter” with Bucky. You know it was no coincidence he was there, the little shit must’ve tracked you down… but you couldn’t make yourself care about that when it was so amazing… incredible… Not only the fact that he went down on you in such a shameless way and gave you a mind-blowing orgasm, like he always does. It was also the way he spoke to you…his attitude… not really imposing himself… encouraging you to have fun with your friends… no sign of jealousy. It made you feel special and free and… loved. Really loved for who you are and not for who you make yourself to be to please and that is a tremendously powerful feeling.

Still… you have mixed feelings about it all and Eddie is the reason. Being there with him felt familiar and comfortable, but, in some way different… better than before. It makes you think that he really is engaged into finding not just a way back to you, but also a way to make your relationship work and it certainly weighs over your heart.

You tell your friends all of that.

“Did Eddie notice anything?” Nat asks, reaching over for some popcorn.

“I don’t know,” you answer, “He wasn’t at the table when I returned, but he came back shortly, my friends were still talking about it, but we changed to subject once we saw him. The girls didn’t comment anything again, and he acted normal… I guess he didn’t.” You shrug, starting to bite on your nails.

There’s an annoying little feeling rising in you since the night before and, thinking over it, you recognize it as guilt. Guilt for doing that with Bucky while Eddie was there in Club, guilt for not being bothered by Bucky’s presence, while, at least initially, you were bothered by Eddie’s, guilty for enjoying that Bucky was the one who actively made a move when Eddie didn’t, for missing him more than you missed Eddie, for feeling more positively about his change of mind than Eddie’s, for wanting Bucky more…

Guilt because you know you’re falling for him. For Bucky. And there’s little you can do to stop it.

“What is it?” Sharon asks, tightening her lips and nodding at where you’re chewing your nails.

You promptly stop, bringing your hands to around your knees again, “I guess I wasn’t expecting either of them there.” You decide not to share your most recent thoughts with them.

“You know why both of them were there. It was definitely not a coincidence.” Nat reminds you.

“I know… but it's ok, they were polite...” You brush it off but add, quickly, fighting back a smile at the memories that flashes in your mind, “In their own way.”

“Polite? Even when Bucky had his face up your pussy?” Sharon teases, not letting that one go, and making you give in and let out a laugh while you hide your face with your hands for a moment.

“I was pretty excited to find out he was there, actually,” you admit and their faces light up, which you assume is prompted by your own expression. “It was a thrilling sensation… I can’t quite explain.”

“He really is in love with you…Bucky…” Nat tightens her lips and tilts her head.

You sigh, looking back at her, “I know…” You admit.

They both keep waiting for you to say something else but you don’t know what you could say. No… as a matter of fact, you do. You’re just not ready to put your thoughts out in the world. At first, you had your doubts if what Bucky was feeling was really that deep… but now… something has changed. You believe him. You really do. And you know you’re falling for him, too, but…

Eddie was the one you wanted for so long… you’ve made so many plans with him… Long term plans. You used to see yourself growing old with him and that’s an image that still somehow haunts your feelings. And now… the fact that guilt surrounds the feelings arising for Bucky inside you makes you feel like a cheater. You didn’t feel that when it was just sex, but now you do. And you’re damn scared.

What if you surrender to your feelings now and go to Bucky and then comes a day you’ll realize that you were wrong and Eddie will still be the one you really want? You wanted him for so long… can that really have changed? How can one let go of that feeling, that certainty of being right for each other, without being afraid of doing the wrong thing? And if that happens, if you do the wrong thing now, you will eventually hurt Bucky and that’s definitely the last thing you want.

That’s fucked up and you know it. But it’s what you’re feeling.

You keep it to yourself, though.  

~~~

It’s a few hours after the girls left your place, you take a refreshing and long bath and are about to put on a movie to relax a bit more for the rest of the evening. Maybe that way you can put your thoughts and feelings in order.

That duality of emotions is crushing your mind. You wanted some time alone and you had that… now, you can’t help the feeling that you need to come to a decision, a conclusion of some sort, you just can’t keep pushing it further. For better or for worse. Or you will lose your mind soon.

A comfort movie is in order for all the thinking you need to do, so you set “The Prisoner of Azkaban” on your TV before you head to the kitchen. You’re still pretty full of all the junk food the three of you made a feast of the whole afternoon, so you decide to prepare just an old recipe of peach iced tea your mom has taught you. Perfect for the hot weather, too.

You’ve just added the ice in the jar when your intercom rings. You frown wondering who could that be and check your phone for any missed calls or messages, finding none before answering the intercom.

“Yeah? Oh… no, yeah, sure, come up.” You press the button to let him in. Your heart beats just slightly faster, wondering what could he possibly be doing there.

“Hi,” he greets, once you open the door after he pressed the ringer.

“Hi,” you answer, and without even thinking, just keep staring at him, blocking his way into your apartment while he stands at your door, holding a big box in his hands.

“Can I come in?” He asks, when you say nothing else.  

“Oh, yeah, of course, sorry.” You step aside, allowing Eddie to walk into your living room with a tight smile on his lips.  

“Please,” you gesture towards your sofa and he nods, walking with you over there, “I was about to pour me some iced tea, would you like some?” You offer, tentativeness still present in your tone, while the big box secured in his hands grasps your attention for a second.   

“Your mom’s recipe?” He asks, his whole face lightening up as he takes his seat.

You chuckle and nod.

“Oh, hell yeah, then.”

You take just a little longer than you actually need to fix the tea for the two of you in the kitchen. For some reason, his presence, after the night before, what you did with Bucky and after you coming to terms that you are, indeed, growing feelings for the other guy… it just unsettles you.

After taking a deep breath or two, you come back to the living room. Some small conversation ensues while you take a seat by his side and you two drink from the tea you’ve just prepared.

“Ahm…What’s that?” At some point you give in to the curiosity and nod towards the box now on your center table.

He smiles, before placing his cup on your table and taking the box in his hands. He shifts on the sofa, making room for placing it on one of the cushions between the two of you. “I was taking a look at it at home earlier, it just… I couldn’t help myself… and decided to come by to show you.”

When he opens the lid, placing it aside, you take in the contents, which makes your heart beat a bit funny at the surprise. You recognize pictures of the two of you, letters, a few souvenirs… All of them represent a memory of your relationship.   

“Oh…” you say. You know all that stuff had been stashed in some place, but you never knew he had taken them with him once he moved out.

“Yeah…” Eddie brushes the back of his neck, peering at you from beneath his lashes, “I guess I really wasn’t that confident about my decision when I left…” he shrugs, looking down at the box again, “I just couldn’t leave it behind.”

You give him a tightened and brief smile, before placing your teacup on the table and starting to fumble through the items inside the box. You let out a breathy laugh when you find a picture of the day you two have met… he had founded a study group on advanced software creating techniques and you were the only one to show up.

“Oh my God…” you laugh.

“Yeah… what a couple of nerds,” Eddie chuckles, looking at the picture.

He helps you through the shuffling when you go through some more pictures from college, his family, your family… the day you two closed the deal to buy the apartment… the letter you received when you were both accepted in the Avengers tech team…

You feel the tears gathering in your eyes before they start silently rolling down your cheeks… It’s a weird sensation, it’s like meeting with an old part of yourself, an old friend. One that has never really left, but you almost don’t recognize anymore… leading to a nostalgic and longing feeling.

They’re all good memories stashed on that box… of course… you guess no one is really keen to proposedly keep a souvenir from the bad ones… but that’s not on what your focus lays right now.  Your attention is caught by a particular thing from the box. A small gasp escapes your lungs at the sight.

You look up at Eddie, whose eyes have been intensely trained on you, before you grab the object in your hands.

It’s a scrapbook you two have made through college years. While you silently and carefully go through the pages your life passes in front of your eyes. Movie and concert tickets… more pictures… a few drawings… software ideas you had together… little notes you’ve written to each other… and then, on the very last couple of pages, there they are.

You remember them. The day you two decided to write a letter to each other, telling how you wanted your future to be.

You roam your fingers through the frayed papers… you don’t have to read them again to know what’s there. You remember. Without knowing, in the end you two had written the exact same thing in both letters… among other small stuff, you two wrote you wanted a kick ass job, live in the city in an apartment of your own… and stay together forever.

Your watery gaze follows when Eddie slides down to the floor and kneels before you, taking your hands in his, “I meant every word then and I still do,” he says, softly, staring deeply into your eyes, “I can’t see my future without you… I just can’t.” He shakes his head, before it drops.

You see how his lips twist before he looks up at you again, with a saddened look on his face, “I know how that guy makes you feel…”

Your body freezes just as your heart does and you feel the precise moment when it splits in two. That heavy sensation comes back to your chest when the image of Bucky pops into your mind and suddenly there are two lives running before your eyes. One there, with Eddie, with everything you've ever dreamed of… the other running straight into Bucky's arms and leaving all of that behind.

And you know there's only one right for you.

You're brought back to reality by the sound of Eddie's voice.

 “I- I know about what happened last night, I, ahm, I’ve heard the girls…” he stammers but holds his hold on your hands when you shift on your seat and he senses your discomfort. “No… it’s ok. “I know it’s new… it’s exciting…” he continues, nodding and hastily licking his lips, “And you deserve to explore that. You do… it’s ok.” He puts on a small smile, “But I want you to know that I’m here. I’m waiting for you. I’m waiting for us… for our future. No matter how long it takes. How much fun you need to have with that guy before you realize what I already know.” He smiles wider, “Because I know you and I are it. We’ve always been it.”

You’re frowning while looking down at him. His words making their way into your senses.  

You free one hand of his secured hold to reach over and cup his smiling face.

He leans into your touch.

You make a decision. 

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky x Reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #it´s a deal #it's a deal ch. 13

[bitchin-beskar]

Royal Affairs - I

A Choice is Made

Rating: T (Will change to M in future chapters)

Warnings: None, for this chapter. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Hey all!! This is a brand new AU that I’ve decided to dive headfirst into!! An anon sent @absurdthirst a message, asking if anyone had written King Din before, and I saw it on my feed, and that inspired this series!! (on the off chance that that anon follows me, if you wanna send me a message or something, I’d be glad to credit you as the inspiration behind this story!) This is an AU story where Mandalore never fell to the Empire, and Din is the King by right of conquest (winning the Darksaber). More of the AU will be explored in the story, but if you have any questions, feel free to send me some asks! I’ll gladly answer what I can, as long as it doesn’t spoil anything!! I wholly blame @mxndoscyarika for being the reason this chapter is out so soon. She is an enabler. (@ollypopp also got to hear a lot of rambles about this au... i’m not sorry). I hope you guys like it!!!!! Please let me know what you guys think!!!

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment!! I love hearing what you guys think!!

When you’d gone to bed last night, you certainly weren’t expecting anything monumentous to happen today. Today was supposed to be just another day spent running your little apothecary with your sister, before going to sleep and doing it all over again tomorrow. 

But as you stared down at the small little green alien child hiding behind your counter, you knew that today wasn’t going to go the way you planned. 

“Hey, little one,” you murmured, crouching down, but staying far enough back that he wouldn’t feel trapped by you. “How’d you get in here, huh? Where are your parents?”

He looked up at you with his huge round eyes, his little lip quivering, and your heart broke. 

“Hey, it’s alright sweetheart,” you whispered, holding your hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay–” You were a little thrown off when he waddled straight into your arms, and you instinctively clutched him to your chest. He buried his little face into your tunic and began to cry, little heart-wrenching sobs as his tiny body shook in your arms. 

Standing, you quickly moved to the back room, seeing your sister in the middle of bottling some healing bacta salve. 

“A’denla, can you cover the shop for me?”

She turned, about to ask why when she saw the sobbing child in your arms. You mouthed that you’d explain later, and she just nodded, turning and heading for the counter, leaving you alone in the back with the little one. 

You rocked the little baby back and forth, humming softly as you tried to get him to calm down. You didn’t have a whole lot of experience with children, but you knew enough from helping watch the children of other villagers while they ran their shops when you were younger. 

His tearful cries eventually slowed to little whimpers and hiccups, and you were able to encourage him to detach from your shirt. He rubbed at his eye with his little arm, and you were startled to see a dark green, almost black bruise on his tiny wrist. 

“Who hurt you, little one?” You gently took his hand, inspecting the bruise. He whimpered when you brushed your fingers over his skin. “I bet that hurts something fierce, huh?” 

You take him over to where your sister had the bacta salve out, setting him down gently on the countertop. “Can I use some of this, sweetheart? It’ll help you heal faster.” You’re not sure if he can understand you, but then he takes a long moment to look at the little bottle of blue gel you’re holding before looking up at you, solemnly nodding, his big ears flapping a little with the motion. 

You step away to wash your hands, grabbing a small strip of gauze as well. Dipping your fingers into the salve, you gently brush it over his bruise, your heart twisting every time his little features scrunch up in pain. Once his arm is sufficiently covered, you carefully wrap the gauze around the bruise, securing it with a small clip. 

He looks at his arm before looking back at you, cooing, a wide smile on his face, showing off his baby teeth. His arms raise in the universal sign for “up please!” and you’re unable to deny him, scooping him up in your arms, and cradling him once more to your chest. 

Pressing his face against your skin with a contented sigh, he nuzzles against you for a moment before you feel his breathing begin to even out. “It must be exhausting being so little, huh?” 

You carry him over to the small bassinet you have set up for when you’re watching your brother’s baby girl when he’s busy. The little child fits easily in the small padded space, and you carefully cover him up before stepping back. You have no idea how he got to your shop, and he’s not exactly a race you recognize. Hopefully his parents are somewhere nearby, otherwise you’re going to have a hard time finding them. Although, you’d noticed that his bruises seemed to be in the shape of a hand, and you really didn’t want to place him back into the arms of abusers. 

The tinkling of a bell rang through the shop, signalling the arrival of a customer. You quickly shut the door on the small room with the bassinet, walking towards the counter where your sister is. A’denla isn’t exactly the best with people, and you know she prefers to work in the back, so as soon as you get to the counter, you nudge her away so that she can go back to packaging up products. 

She gives you a grateful smile, ducking into the back as you turn to face two of perhaps the strangest customers you’ve ever met. One is a Rodian, which isn’t necessarily odd in of itself, but usually they tend to stay away from Mandalore. Most Mandalorian’s aren’t exactly known for their tolerance towards other races. The other appears to be human, but you’ve learned to not judge people by their outward appearances.  

“We’re looking for our bounty,” the Rodian grunts in Huttese, and your eyes widen a bit. Bounty hunters. You should’ve known. You’re also surprised that Huttese is the language he chose, especially considering the two main languages on Mandalore were Mando’a and Basic. Luckily for him, you’ve always been a fan of learning different languages, and you understand basic Huttese. “It got away from us. It’s very dangerous. Have you seen it?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What does your bounty look like?”

The other hunter chimes in, this time in Basic. “It’s fifty years old but looks like a child. Some weird green frog-like thing with big ears. It’s incredibly dangerous, and you need to tell us right now if you’ve seen it.”

You manage to school your features, but internally, you’re shocked. Their bounty is the little green child you just patched up and is now sleeping in your back room? And he’s fifty? 

Something about the way the two hunters are acting strikes you as odd, and you make a split second decision. You lie. 

“I’ve not seen any creatures like that,” your voice is smooth and calm, betraying nothing. “But I’ve been in my shop all day. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

For a moment, you think they don’t believe you, but the human quickly nods, grasping his fellow hunter’s arm and tugging him out of your shop. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, sagging a little as the door swung shut. 

You ducked back to the backroom, seeing your sister waiting with her arms crossed. 

“You wanna tell me why you just lied outright to two bounty hunters?” She hissed, eyes flashing. “Do you know how kriffing stupid that was?” 

You stared blankly at her. “Do you really think I’d lie to bounty hunters without a damn good reason?” Your voice was incredulous. “I’m not a di’kut, A’denla.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Alright, what’s the reason then?” 

You sighed, slumping against one of the tables. “They said their bounty is fifty years old, but the little one who came into our shop? He’s a baby A’denla. He may be fifty, but it’s clear he doesn’t age the same as us! What could a baby do to warrant a bounty? He was hurt, and he was hurt badly. He was sobbing and shaking and it’s clear he was terrified. I wasn’t about to hand him over to the bounty hunters who probably hurt him that bad in the first place!”

A’denla looks shocked at your little outburst, before softening slightly. She’s got a soft spot for little kids too, and you know she wouldn’t be okay with handing a child over to bounty hunters. 

“Fine, but if this brings hell down on us, I’m telling buir it was your fault, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbed a basket of products, and went back out front to restock the shelves.

***

The little one had slept for a couple of hours, but now he was wide awake, and demanding your attention. You’d done your best to keep him occupied out of sight in case the bounty hunters came back, but so far, the coast had been clear. 

The door suddenly burst open, and Vyshena rushed inside. She owned a shop a couple doors down that sold mechanical parts, so she was a regular, often needing basic medical supplies to patch herself up after being a little too careless with a socket wrench.

“What do you need to–” You started, only to be cut off as Vyshena practically flung herself onto the counter, her grease stained fingers gripping the wood lightly.

“Did you hear?!”

You almost winced at the squeal, and you felt little claws dig into your legs. You looked down, to see the child grasping your leg, his ears drooping as he looked up at you with sorrowful eyes.

“Did I hear what, Vys?”

You bent down to pick up the little one, smoothing one hand over his ear as Vys started in on a rant.

“The King is coming! Apparently his kid went missing and he’s tracking him down! Y’know, he used to be a bounty hunter, so it only makes sense that he’d track his own kid down, apparently there’s a bounty from the Empire on the little guy and–”

You looked up as Vys suddenly stopped, and your brow furrowed as she made a choking sound, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared at you.

“And what, Vys?”

Instead of answering, her arm raised shakily, pointing at the little bundle you held on your hip. Her mouth was gaping, and she looked like she was about to pass out.

“Vys, are you alright?”

Her eyes flickered between your face and the kid multiple times before she sucked in a gasp. “WHAT?”

You actually flinched back at her sudden shout, and the kid whimpered, burying his face in your side.

“Vys!”

“I’m sorry, but how do you– where did– HOW DID YOU GET THE KING’S KID??”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry, what?”

“YOU HEARD ME!”

“What is all this racket about– oh, hi Vys.” A’denla came out from the back, her hands full of bottled bacta salve. “What’s going on?”

Vys sputtered, and so you mumbled “Apparently this is the King’s son?” As you gesture to the giggling baby on your hip.

A’denla’s jaw dropped, and she nearly dropped the bacta salve. “Are you kidding me??”

You shook your head, feeling faint, and Vys started laughing hysterically, which got the little one going too. “Not helping,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help but smile at how happy the little one looked.

“Maker, what are we gonna do?”

Your sister’s moan was mostly drowned out by the giggling, but you frowned thoughtfully. “Vys, hold him please,” you said, handing her the still laughing child, even as your request caused her to audibly shut her mouth. You rummaged through the drawers behind the counter before you found a spare sheet of paper and a pen. A’denla tried to see what you were doing but you waved her off, writing as fast as you could.

“There,” you muttered, folding up the paper, handing it to Vys in exchange for the kid. “Take this to one of the guards. They should be able to get it to the King quickly enough. It states that his son is safe, and here in the apothecary. We’re gonna close early just as an added precaution.”

Vys nodded, and you turned to A’denla. “I also wrote what I could remember about the two bounty hunters who came in, they’re probably the ones who kidnapped the kid to begin with.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” your sister sighed. “Maker, am I glad you lied to them when they asked about the kiddo.”

“Me too.” You turned back to Vys. “Go, get that to a guard. I’ll wait here.”

Vys nodded shakily, still a little pale, but she dashed out of the shop. A’denla opened her mouth, but closed it again quickly.

“Go on, spit it out.”

She shook her head. “Buir is never gonna believe this.” You snickered, imaging your mother’s face when she found out that the King of Mandalore’s son had wandered into your apothecary.

“You should go home and tell her. I’d hate for her to hear about this from someone else.” A’denla looked worried, but you shook her off. “I’m closing the store anyways. It’s not like I won’t need your help.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yes, go.”

After a little more persuading, A’denla finally left, leaving you and the little one alone in the shop. He was still perched on your hip, and for a moment, you stood in the middle of the store, mind racing.

“I can’t believe you’re actually the King’s son,” you muttered, looking down at the wide-eyed child. “Just my luck, huh?”

He cooed at you, playing with the fabric of your top. Your eyes fell to the gauze wrapped around his arm, and you sighed. “I guess we better check on that, buddy. Make sure you’re healing alright.”

Just like before, he was a good patient, not too squirmy as you carefully unwound the gauze. His bruise was healing nicely, and you carefully applied a little more bacta for good measure, re-wrapping his arm. Right as you were pinning it in place, a loud banging sounded from the front door.

You jumped, hand flying to your chest. Carefully picking the kid up, you made your way to the door, peering through the curtains, eyes widening as you realized just who was standing there.

Unlocking the door, you pulled it open, stepping to the side to let the odd looking group inside.

You recognized Fennec Shand, a notorious bounty hunter and partner to Boba Fett, who was also a part of the group. Both were known for their close kinship with the King. There was a woman you didn’t recognize, but judging by the small tattoo on her upper cheek, she had ties to the Republic.

Finally, clad in full beskar’gam, was the King. His beskar was unpainted, the silver gleaming in the low light of your shop. He had no shortage of weapons, his spear was strapped to his back, and a blaster and various vibroblades were strapped to his legs. But the most prominent was the Darksaber that hung from his belt.

Dropping into a curtsy, you bowed your head in respect, a quiet “my king,” leaving your lips. You’d heard stories about the King, about his strength and speed in battle, but especially from his time as a bounty hunter. He’d been one of, if not the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, before winning the Darksaber from Maul in a duel, granting him the right to the throne of Mandalore.

Some said he was cruel, terrifying and dangerous, not to mention volatile. You had no way of knowing. He wasn’t one for major public appearances, so knowledge on his true personality was reserved for those closest to him.

There was a tense silence for a moment when suddenly, the child on your hip reached his little arms out towards the King, babbling loudly. He had a large smile on his face and was wriggling desperately to get out of your grasp. 

The King took a step forward, his own hands stretching out towards his son. You carefully handed the child over, your bare hands brushing over the King’s leather gloves as you transferred the little one to his father’s arms. 

“Su’cuy, ad’ika.” 

The King’s voice was barely more than a whisper as he pressed his helmet against the little one’s brow, his hand pressing against the child’s back to hold him close. 

You fold your arms in front of you, absently noting the way that you already miss the comforting weight of the kid on your hip. You look away from the King and his son, not wanting to intrude on their reunion. 

The others seem a little uncomfortable, like you, and thankfully, the woman you don’t know breaks the awkward silence. 

“You said in your note that you had two bounty hunters come looking for him?”

You’re looking at the woman, so you don’t notice the way the King’s head whips in your direction, nor the way his hand falls to rest on the hilt of the Darksaber. 

“Mmhmm, a Rodian and a human.” You pause. “Actually, I’d almost forgotten, we had security cameras installed about a month ago, they should be on the holos.”

“Why bother with security cameras?” Fett cut in, and you were taken aback by the blatant suspicion in his voice. “This isn’t exactly a high crime area.”

You sighed. “We had a break in a couple months ago. Some di’kut took off with half our supply of bacta salve. We’re one of the only apothecaries on Mandalore licensed to make it, and unfortunately, that usually means we have a large stock, and the prices are pretty steep.” 

“You didn’t report it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the accusatory tone. “I figure if someone’s going to go to all that trouble just to steal bacta salve and not even touch the register or safe, they probably needed it. It’s diluted when it’s in a salve, so it can’t be sold on the black market, unlike pure bacta.” 

“What’s this?”

You started at the King’s voice, turning to look in his direction, seeing him inspecting the gauze wrapped around the little one’s arm. You frowned. “The little one had a pretty bad bruise, it was nearly black. I applied some bacta salve and wrapped it. I checked it just before you got here, it looks a lot better.”

“And I suppose you just thought it was okay to–”

“Fett.”

Your eyes widened at the King’s tone, looking away as the green-armoured bounty hunter grumbled, but stayed silent. 

“I’m a licensed medic, and I have been for close to ten years now. I know what I’m doing.” Perhaps your voice was a little defensive, but you weren’t going to apologize for easing the kid’s pain, no matter the opinion of grumpy men in beskar. 

“Thank you.”

You nodded at the King, eyes flicking up to his helmet before looking away, your cheeks growing warm. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but something about the way he seemed to stare directly into your soul, even through the beskar made you feel... odd.

He handed the little one to the woman with the tattoo, before turning back to you. “May I see the holos?”

You nodded again, turning and walking towards the back of the shop, where the holos were stored. It wasn’t a large room, an old refurbished closet really, and it was a bit tight for one person, let alone a second covered in beskar. You opened up the data station and pulled up the holos from earlier, trying to ignore the silent mountain of a man behind you. You could feel his eyes on your back, and you tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine. 

You found the correct timestamp, and enlarged the holovid, pointing to the figures on the screen. “This is when they entered.”

Suddenly, there was a large warm hand on the small of your back as the King stepped up behind you, his other hand coming down to rest on the surface of the table, caging you in as he leaned forward. He was peering over your shoulder, and you inadvertently sucked in a breath at the sudden closeness. 

The two of you watched the footage in silence. Unfortunately, you didn’t have audio to go with the holos, so all the King would have to go off of is the visual. 

“Is there anything distinctive about them that you can remember?” He murmured, the rasp of his helmet’s modulator doing nothing to hide the exquisite way his voice sounded in your ear. 

“Um–” You trailed off, trying to focus, which was especially hard with the King so kriffing close. “Uh, the Rodian? He spoke Huttese.” You could’ve smacked yourself. Of course the Rodian spoke Huttese, it was a common language bounty hunters learned, and Rodian’s were known for speaking it along with their native Rodese. 

The King let out a sigh, and just as you were about to apologize, he thanked you. 

“That– that helps. Thank you, very much.” His hand pressed a little more into your back, and you fought the urge to arch into his touch. You weren’t some child with a crush damn it, you were a village shopkeeper and he was your king. It would be entirely inappropriate, although your traitorous mind was quick to remind you that his touching you could be considered inappropriate as well. 

You told your mind to shut the hell up. 

“You’re welcome, my king.” 

There, that was a perfectly respectable answer. Now all you had to do was avoid embarrassing yourself any further, and–

“Please, darling. Call me Din.”

Well, there went that plan. 

You bit your lip and looked down at the keyboard, hoping that the King–Din, didn’t see your hands tighten at the sound of his voice when he called you darling. 

“Can you give me a copy of these holovids?” 

You nodded, grateful for something, anything to distract you from the peculiar man at your back. Copying the holos onto a drive unfortunately didn’t take very long, and when you turned to hand them to the Ki–Din, your eyes widened when you realized just how close he was to you. Your chests were practically touching, and you had to tilt your head up to be able to look at his helmet, which was aimed directly at you. 

He carefully took the drive, tucking it into one of the pockets on his belt, before stepping back, crossing one arm over his chest and bowing. To you. 

“You’ve done me a great service. I won’t forget it.” 

You swallowed harshly. For a moment, it had sounded like he’d said “I won’t forget you,” although it had to be wishful thinking on your part. He was your King, you were so far removed from royalty it wasn’t even funny. He was just being polite. 

“I’m just glad you were able to reunite with your son. He seems to love you a lot.”

“His name is Grogu. I was blessed with him as my foundling, and I treasure him greatly.”

You smiled. It was clear as day how much the King loved his son, and how the little one returned those feelings tenfold. To be blessed with a foundling was a great honor, and it didn’t surprise you one bit that your King had been blessed in such a way. 

He stepped back to make space for you to leave the small room, and you hurried to where the others were undoubtedly waiting, only just now realizing how long the two of you had been gone.

Fett and Shand were gone by the time you got back to the main floor of your shop. Just the woman and the little one–Grogu–stood their waiting. The King easily plucked Grogu from the woman’s grasp, and with a tight nod, she left your shop as well, leaving you alone with the King and his son. 

He turned back to you, his helmet once more trained on your face. “I must thank you again, for everything.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the gratitude dripping from his words. “It was nothing, my king,” you murmured, curtsying once more. 

As you slowly straightened back up, the King reached out and ever so gently lifted your chin, the leather of his glove pressing into your skin. You were forced to look at him, even as the fluttering in your stomach renewed with vigour.

“I’ve already told you, darling. Call me Din.” 

Permanent Tags: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin, @perropascal, @mxndoscyarika, @hayley-the-comet, @phoenixhalliwell, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @pedroepascal, @roxypeanut, @rynadjarin-reading, @anerdydragon, @justanotherblonde23, @rosiefridayrogersunday, @littlevodika, @sunsetmando, @bucketbunny

Din Djarin Tags:  @pedrhoepascal, @rynadjarin-reading, @emzd34, @anerdydragon, @bigthicklongschlong, @baby-gurl-jazzy, @fantasticwizardnerd, @bucketbunny

Story Tags: @all-hallows-evie​, @houseofthirst​

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my works, please fill out this quick survey, or shoot me a message!!

#royalty au #king!din au #king!din #din djarin x reader #fic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian au fic #Din Djarin is a king #and we love him #no use of y/n #chapter 1 #I'd say this is gonna be long cause its a slow burn #but that'd be a lie #it's long cause there's a lot of smut #it's not a slow burn at all #boba fett #fennec shand #cara dune #little baby grogu #reader falls in love with grogu #like always #royal affairs

[fangirlings-things]

Ocean Eyes I

OCEAN EYES MASTERLIST

Word count: 3.9K

SET ON 5x12

A/N: guyssss here is the first chapter!!! i want to thank you all for the positive feedback, the comments and reblogs, likes thank youuu so much!!! hope you guys like the beginning of this story, love love love 💖

tag list: @castielsangelsx ; @ritual-unions-gotme ; @freckled-lass ; @irrelevantyettopicalusername ; @charming-merlin ; @pieces-by-me

Vikings tag list: @maggiescarborough ; @charmingvalkyrie

TAG LIST IS OPEN || ALL GIFS USED IN HERE BELONG TO ME

─━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━─━━─━─「⊱✠⊰」━─━─

They were brought in by the guards in a group of four. Two women at the middle and two tall men, the sons of Ragnar, at the edges. 

From your spot, close to one of the great walls alongside with your mother, Judith, and your brother, Aethelred, you took it upon yourself to analyze all of them as you tried to calm down your heart, that was beating incredibly fast inside your chest. 

It had been like that ever since the moment Alfred had gone to your chambers, to tell you that he had made a decision regarding the Northmen and that he had a plan. He knew what to do. Although in fear, you trusted your brother. More than anything or anyone in the whole world. 

And also, your grandfather had prepared him to make tough decisions like that one. He had given Alfred his every ruling knowledge, the wisdom of a great King. If someone could ensure your family prevailed, that person was Alfred. 

"I am aware of who you are" Alfred's voice filled the great hall. On the throne, with Bishop Heahmund standing by his side he looked a lot like Ecbert, when he used to make announcements with Bishop Edmund's Christian council. "I'm not foolish enough to not recognize your potential for my kingdom" just like you, he ran his eyes through the four of the Northmen as he spoke. Not in threat, but respect. "If you were willing to fight with us against the armies of your countrymen"

After hearing your twin brother's words, the men who was closest to where you were standing, Ubbe, the son of Ragnar, smiled and looked at the ground with a silent laugh escaping his lips. That disturbed you, made you feel even more worried about what Alfred would try to do, what agreement he would propose to them. 

As if he had sensed your intense stare, the man, Ubbe, turned his head slightly and fixed his eyes right back at yours, in retribution for your own gaze. His eyes were blue. So deeply blue. 

"We may" Bjorn Ironside spoke for the first time at the other edge of the group and that broke the eye contact you and his brother were exchanging. You swallowed hard because of how nervous that look had made you feel. "On the condition, that you allow us to settle in the part of East Anglia King Ecbert gave to us" 

Aethelred huffed, and you wished to hit him for that, having a second reason to apologize for afterwards. Bjorn Ironside's tone was already threatening enough and worthy of caution. You all did not need him to think he was being disrespected. 

Luckily enough, the Northmen did not notice that. 

"I have every intention of honoring my grandfather's pledges" Alfred made that very clear to the blond man, clenching at the throne's arms like they were his support. You admired him. To have such coldness and calmness to deal with the same people who had killed thousands of Englishmen before, that was something worthy of admiration. "But first you must demonstrate your worth and your loyalty to our cause in battle" 

Exactly like Ubbe had done before, Bjorn Ironside laughed and looked down at his feet, licking his lips in something that came close to amusement. Again, it made you worried. More than you already were. If they did not accept the deal Alfred was offering, their fate would be prison or death. And even though the sons of Ragnar were at war, you doubted that absolutely no one would seek revenge for them. That was the way with them. 

"We have the legal right to that land" Bjorn raised his eyes again and they pierced Alfred like blades, such was the ferocity in them. 

You knew what your grandfather had done in the past to his people. How he had killed all the people in the settlement he had gave them to live in peace. How he betrayed Ragnar and Lagertha's, the older woman who now stood in that hall, trust. You knew that in the verge of his death, your grandfather was not proud of that decision. Perhaps he did not regret it, but he for sure resented it. So, as much as it cost you to admit, you understood Bjorn Ironside's clear doubt in your brother's words. 

"We accept your offer" Lagertha surprised everyone by saying it. 

Instantly all the eyes in the hall were on her. Bjorn Ironside and Ubbe turned their heads to her and Bjorn mostly, seemed angry by her jumping to decisions, especially one that seemed too reckless as to trust again, a King of Wessex. And although they clearly did not agree with her, both of the men did not argue and she did not pay them any attention. She made the decision and they accepted it. You could not help but admire her determination and influence over them. 

"I am glad" Alfred sighted, in relief. You knew very much your brother was not someone who supported violence or the wrongs of people in the past. Although he had been raised by your grandfather, he was not Ecbert. He would not make the same mistakes or break his promises. And although you did resent Ragnar's sons for your grandfather's death, you felt relief as well for that deal. They had wanted to avenge their father, that you could understand. But still, the pain of your loss made it difficult to acknowledge it out loud. "It was Bishop Heahmund who proposed this solution which seemed to me wise" 

Slowly and respectfully, Heahmund turned his head a bit and nodded in Lagertha's direction, a sign of respect and duty. She did the same to him. And even though their movements were stern and cold, you could swear you saw a spark in both of their eyes. Something hidden there, carefully. 

"So" Alfred regained his speech and that made you stop paying attention to the woman and the Bishop. "As long as we are allies and friends you are free to use the royal villa as you wish" at the back of the hall, you saw some of the Lords who were a part of the Witan, exchanging horrified looks. "My servants are also your servants. My kitchens and cellars are there for your use. I believe you have two young children with you" 

That, made you turn your head completely and focus on your twin. He had not told you about that. The thought of young children in the cells of the palace, cold and hungry, made your stomach twist and shame take the whole of your being. 

The other woman, the one who had not spoken at all since they had been brought before the King, nodded her head confirming his words. Instantly, for the look in her eyes, you knew she was the children's mother. 

"Let us have a care for them also" Alfred stated and the woman's face seemed to light up gratefully like she had just received the best news in the world. 

"Thank you, Lord King" she said with the utter most respect. 

Alfred turned his head to the corner of the room and with one of his hands, made a sign for one of the guards to step forward. "We have fought against you and now we shall fight together, with you" he said as the guard started to take out the Northmen's chains and release them. "I know my grandfather King Ecbert would approve for I know the love he bore King Ragnar" 

At your grandfather's mention, you could not help but feel a sharp emotion run through your whole being. Your eyes got blurry and a tear streamed down your face. Your mother looked at you discretely but did not say a word, just smiled tenderly. You looked down at your feet and cleaned the tear with your fingertips, taking a deep breath to regain your posture. When you looked up, you saw that Ubbe was looking at you again. He had clearly seen you crying and it angered you. 

You did not want to seem weak in front of them. 

Without any other words, the Northmen were dismissed and left the great hall. Alfred watched them leave, getting up from his throne and taking a few steps forward. All the eyes were on him. 

"Can I trust them?" Alfred asked as soon as the Northmen left the hall and the doors were closed behind them. 

"You can trust Lagertha" the Bishop answered almost instantly, because he knew the question had been made to him. 

Alfred nodded and started to walk away. Before he could though, Heahmund called for him to solve one more matter. As they discussed it, you felt your mind slip further away by every instant passed. 

"If you would excuse me, my King" you bowed to your brother and only after he nodded, giving you permission to leave, you turned away and did so. 

  ─━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━━─━─━─「⊱✠⊰━─━─

You walked through the corridors of the palace, one long corridor after the other, looking for Alfred. You had just met his soon to be wife and she seemed to be a good person, so it gave you some joy. At your mother's request, you had the responsibility to take Alfred to meet her as soon as possible. 

You had already searched his chambers and others rooms, but did not have any luck. So, your feet got you to the corridor on the south side of the palace, which lead to a room you knew Alfred liked to be in sometimes. The view from the windows calmed him, he always said. 

"Brother, are you here?" you opened the doors and entered the room. As soon as you did so, you regretted it. Alfred was there, but not alone. Bjorn Ironside and Ubbe were with him and the tension in there was anything but calm. All their eyes fell upon you and you sighted for your own stupidity. You should have assumed he would be settling matters with them regarding the new alliance. "I am sorry to interrupt"

"(Y/N), what is it?" Alfred interrupted the matter to give you attention. To him, there was nothing more important than you. 

"The Lady is here" you said and he understood of whom you were talking about. Ubbe and Bjorn Ironside just stayed silent, both of them with their eyes still on you. You did not stare back to any of them. 

"If you just wait for a moment, sister, I will accompany you and go meet her" he suggested and pointed to an empty chair on the other side of the table, across from him. You nodded and just when you sat down at that chair, he looked at Ubbe. "Please, continue" 

It took a moment for the son of Ragnar to speak and risking a quick glance, you saw that he was looking at you. As soon as your eyes met his though, he averted his quickly like you were intimidating. That made you frown. 

"Now, you are the King" Ubbe slapped Alfred in the arm with a forced smile on his lips and walked towards a near smaller table, grabbed a writing quill and ink and placed it in front of Alfred, next to a document you assumed to be the one that 'proved' the Northmen's claim to East Anglia's lands. You knew that was a lie, also. Your grandfather had already given the crown to your father, Aethelwulf, when he signed the document and therefore, had no legal right to give them those lands. "So, you can sign it over to us and you can grant us those lands right now"

You noticed how Alfred sighted heavily. "In theory, yes, I could" 

"What does that mean?" Bjorn Ironside raised his hands in the air, exasperated. You had to admit that he scared you. A simple word said in a higher tone by him made your heart beat faster. 

Alfred placed one of his elbows on the table and leaned towards the blond. "There are important people here who do not want me to grant lands to those who in the past, have attacked and raided us"

"So why would we fight for you when everything you say is just a lie?" Ubbe placed his hands on the table between his brother and Alfred, the expression on his face made you wish to tell your brother to have caution. 

"I am not lying" Alfred turned to him with a expression as serious as the Northmen's. "I am being more honest with you than you have any right to expect!" he looked at Bjorn and then back at Ubbe. He seemed so strong, facing the older men as an equal in strength, that you felt a burst of proud run through you. "You have thrown yourself upon my mercy. So, do not presume anymore upon my charity" he got up from his chair and you instantly did the same. "When I can, I will grant you that land. In the meantime, I must go and meet my future wife" 

So together, you and Alfred left the room. The both of you could sense the Northmen's eyes burning holes in your backs. 

 ─━─━━─「⊱✠⊰」─━━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━─━─

"I think what troubles Bjorn Ironside the most is that he lost the war against his younger brothers" with arms crossed over your chest and your back against the wall behind you, yours eyes were on the ground beneath your feet as you thought deeply about the last few days where everything had changed. 

"Yes, I can see that. But I suppose we cannot blame him for having suspicions about us. Our grandfather betrayed them in the past" Alfred had his eyes sat on the fireplace, thoughts lost in the flames. "I really wish this alliance to work, my dear sister" 

"Me too" you said but noticed that Alfred had fixed his eyes on your face and searched for something hidden in there. "What is it?" 

"I thought you would not want them here. Because of grandfather and what the sons of Ragnar did. Honestly, I wondered if you would support Aethelred if he suggested we should punish them" he admitted, and the supposition made you shrug. 

"I thought about it" the fire, crackling, was the second sound in the room behind your voice. You could feel the cold of stones in your back through the thin cloth of your dress. "But our grandfather was not perfect like I thought when we were just children. He made mistakes. He should not have handed Ragnar Lothbrok to King Aelle. He should not have killed those poeple in the settlement he promised to leave in peace. How can I blame Ragnar's sons for seeking revenge for such things?"

"I am glad you think so. I share your opinion on the matter and that is why I wanted you to be here, not mother or our brother" Alfred opened up a smile to you. 

His statement made you frown. "Why would you want me to be here?" 

"We are expecting a visitor right now. I sent one of my men to bring him here. You are very wise, my sister, so I will need to hear your advice on this as much as he wil" Alfred's eyes went back to the flames. 

"What visitor, Alfred?" 

Before he could answer, the doors of the room were opened and Ubbe walked in, seeming unsure if he should keep on walking or not. He looked around, saw no one but you and your brother and the confusion and uncertainty on his face seemed to grow by the instant. 

But he walked towards you both anyway, stood a few feet away as Alfred turned around and like you, placed your eyes on the Northmen. You found yourself struggling to look away from the son of Ragnar. Again. 

During the earlier feast, your eyes had met his many times, for no reason at all. When you would look, he would already be looking. When you were looking and he would notice, you turned away quickly to try to distract yourself. There was just something about him. He was not like Bjorn Ironside, with all his anger. Nor like Ivar, whom you had met when you were just a little girl. There was something different and intriguing about him. Captivating, even. Not that it did make you trust him, though. 

"You asked to see me" he frowned at Alfred, joining his hands in the front of his body casually. 

"Yes" Alfred quickly agreed. "Please, sit" he pulled the chair at the table a little back and motioned for Ubbe to sit. Still suspicious, the Northmen did not move, just sighted. Alfred accepted the defeat by clearing his throat. "Some wine?" he poured some into a cup and helding it in hand, turned back at Ubbe. You just stayed still and waited as you did not know what was happening. "I think your brother Bjorn has set his heart against me"

"He feels..." Ubbe started, thinking about it for a moment. Then shrugged. "betrayed" 

"I understand that. But what can I do? It was not of my doing" Alfred averted his eyes for a moment and sighted. "And for the time being it is not easy for me to grant you those lands. Many are against it"

"So what are we supposed to do?" Ubbe questioned, still not seeming to see the point of that private reunion of the three of you. 

"A consilium" you spoke, having finally understood where Alfred was going with that sudden meeting. It made sense. He knew that alone, against the two of you, Ubbe would more easily see reason. Ubbe's eyes were on you in that moment, and your arms fell to the sides of your body graciously as you walked closer to the both of them. "You could publicly renounce your pagan gods and be baptized as a christian" 

Ubbe seemed shocked, by the way his gaze kept holding yours until the point he averted his eyes and sighted. "I can't imagine Bjorn would ever agree to that" he turned away to leave, but Alfred stopped him. 

"I am not talking about Bjorn, but about you" Alfred's tone was stern enough to make Ubbe turn back around and stare at the both of you. Motioning for the wine, he came closer. Alfred poured a second and third cup. One he gave to Ubbe and the other, to you. "You do that for me, Ubbe, and a part of my burden is lifted. Ragnar talked to me and my sister when we were children. He talked about your people and my people sharing the land"

"And we think that of all of his sons, you are the closest to him" you said and you saw Ubbe swallow hard, as if the comparison made him proud about himself. 

Alfred nodded in agreement to your words. "He told our grandfather that he no longer believed in your gods"

The expression in Ubbe's face changed, and he raised his cup in the air and towards your brother's face. "That is not true" 

"Our grandfather told us everything" you spoke again, wanting to take that dangerous attention away from Alfred. "He wanted to prepare us, especially my brother, for times such as this" as the words left your mouth Ubbe put the cup down, and a calmer expression took a hold of his features. "He loved your father, we know that. Your father's death broke him" 

"Destroyed him" Alfred completed and in that moment as in many others, you two were working in perfect sinchrony. 

Ubbe took a deep breath and leaving his cup at the table, got up and came closer to Alfred and stared deep into his eyes. Afterwards, he did the same thing to you. Stepped so close you could almost feel his hot breath on your skin. But you did not look away or step back, no. You looked up to meet his eyes and held his gaze for as long as he wished to. 

"I will need time" he finally stepped back, and only then you allowed yourself to breathe again. Your heart was racing inside your chest like the most scared of horses. "to think about what you have told me"

"Of course. And (Y/N), please will you take Ubbe to the chambers the servants have prepared for him and his people?" Alfred suggested and it surprised both you and the son of Ragnar a lot. Your bother smiled reassuringly at you, he had indeed, told you earlier where he would place the small group of the Northmen. And then, he turned to Ubbe. "Your wife Torvi and the others will already be there, I also asked for some extra food to be delivered, for the children" 

"Thank you" Ubbe motioned his head towards Alfred to show his gratitude, then turned to you. "My Lady" it was the first time he spoke directly to you and the respectful tone of his voice, actually made you give him a little smile. 

"Please, follow me" you took the front and walked out of the room, Ubbe following you closely behind.

Once in the corridors, you two walked side by side in completele silence. Honestly, you did not know what you could say. You were certain Alfred had made you do this because he wanted you to see if Ubbe would probably accept the consilium, or if he would deny it. You had always been good in reading people. But still... how should you question such a man? 

"Can I trust Alfred's word?" Ubbe said, speaking so suddenly that you stopped walking in surprise. The torches lit the corridor just enough to cast shadows on his face and when he also stopped walking and turned to fix his gaze on you, you suddenly realized that you two were completely alone in there. Just you and him. 

"Yes, of course" you stated, surprised by the sudden question. You thought the way to his chambers was going to be totally made in silence. 

You motioned to start walking again, but he stepped in your way, keeping you from going. Before you could say anything, the Northman's hands were closed around your forearms. Your eyes widened, but you were so shocked that no words left your mouth. His grip was not tight or bruising. It was almost gentle, as his fingetips just laid in your dress, not clenched at it. 

Holding you, Ubbe got closer and closer until your chests were almost touching. He looked down at you, as you had to look up to meet his eyes. There was a real question in his expression, hesitation that he seemed to wish to let go. "King Ecbert said my father could trust him and he was lying. So I am asking you, my Lady, if I can trust Alfred. If I do this, become a Christian, will he grant me those lands and let my people live in peace?"

"My brother is not my grandfather" you said a few moments later, when you finally were able to regain your voice. His proximity gave you chills. You saw the doubt in his eyes. "I promise you, this settlement will not end as the other did"

He must have seen the honesty in your expression. The urgency in your voice. His hands slowly let go of your arms and for some reason you missed the warmth of his hands upon your dress.

You did not exchange more words, you just led the way to his chambers and wished him and his family a goodnight of sleep.

In your chambers, later, you felt extremely tired.

Before you fell asleep, the last thing you thought about were Ubbe's eyes. Intense blue eyes. So alive, so captivating.

Those ocean eyes.

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #vikings #vikings imagine #history vikings #vikings fanfic #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe x reader #ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe fic #ubbe lothbrok imagine #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #ubbe ragnarsson imagine

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 56]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Okay, let’s see what Virgil has literally dug up.

Chapter 25

“Alright,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I’ve got to go back to my room for the night. Will you two be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan said. “It won’t be particularly different than the last two weeks.”

Patton nodded and leaned to the side to squeeze Virgil in another hug. He’d been clingy since the incident in the courtyard, and Virgil had been appreciative considering he was still pretty shaky from it. He was still surprised he’d touched the king of Prijaznia (let alone ran into him) and lived to tell the tale.

“Goodnight, Pat,” Virgil said because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave if Virgil didn’t.

 “Night Virge,” Patton said with a smile before standing up from where they’d been sitting on the ground. He reached over to hug Logan who was sitting on a chair. “Night Lo! Put the book down and go to bed.”

Logan looked up from his book with a frown.

“It’s almost midnight,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and set his book down. “Very well,” he agreed. “We will get ready for bed.”

“You better! I’m going to come and wake you up early in the morning.”

“Early in the morning for you is 9am,” Logan scoffed.

Patton stuck his tongue out at him as he walked backwards out of the door.

 Logan gave his book a mournful look once the door closed and Virgil almost giggled. “I won’t tell on you,” he said.

Logan thought about it for a few moments. “No,” he finally said. “We should probably get some sleep.”

Virgil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

“We should probably both take a bath after sitting in the dirt today,” Logan said. “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil answered.

“You can go first,” Logan offered.

Virgil felt himself smile. “You just want to finish the chapter in that book,” he accused.

“Perhaps,” Logan conceded.

 Virgil just grinned and walked over to his closet to grab one of the outfits he’d been given for pajamas. He chose a pair of baggy shorts that went past his knees and the huge soft black sweater Logan had found in the back of his closet. He headed into the bathroom, noting Logan had already picked up his book again.

Logan may have declared the both of them dirty enough for bathing a few minutes before, but Virgil was cleaner than he thought he’d ever been before coming to the castle. Logan had taught him how to use the tub and what soaps to use for what a couple of days after he’d arrived and had suggested he clean himself regularly.

 Virgil didn’t mind. The tub was enchanted to warm the water inside of it and Virgil loved it. Though, that had the negative affect of making it very difficult to leave.

He cleaned himself up quickly, so he’d have a few minutes to just sit in the water before he felt like he needed to get out and let Logan have a turn. He changed into his pajamas, pulling the crescent shaped protection charm out of his day clothes pocket and storing the warm to the touch stone in the short pocket. He used the clip Patton had made it to pin it to the cloth to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

 Logan was engrossed in his reading by the time that Virgil exited the bathroom. He did not look up as Virgil approached.

“Your turn,” Virgil said to him.

Logan clearly just barely managed to tear his eyes away from the book. “Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“The book will be there in the morning,” Virgil reminded.

“I know,” said Logan sadly as he set the book aside.

Logan never took much time in the bath, so Virgil quickly went about getting ready for bed the rest of the way. He put his day clothes in the basket Logan had for that purpose and started to straighten out the blankets and pillows in the closet.

 He heard Logan come back into the room a few minutes later.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “What are you doing?”

Virgil looked over at him. “Getting ready for bed,” he answered, confused.

Logan frowned at him. “You don’t sleep in the closet anymore,” Logan said. “That’s only for when we were worried you might escape.”

“Oh,” Virgil said blinking over at him. “Right.” He felt a slight pulling at his chest. He liked the closet. It was warm and soft. Patton had taken a lot of care with how he’d arranged all of the pillows and blankets. It was the best place he could ever remember having to sleep in his life. Yet, he did not argue. He knew getting to sleep out in the open was supposed to be a reward and he wasn’t about to reject it.

 Virgil stood and closed the closet. He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, stretching the fabric between his hands as he watched Logan pull down the covers of his bed and settle down onto it. Cautiously he walked over towards the bed. He wasn’t sure where he should lay down exactly. He dithered for a moment before bending down to sit on the floor near the right side of Logan’s bed and then laying down.

There was shuffling on the bed above him and then Logan’s head popped over the side to squint down at him. “On the bed Virgil,” he said.

 Virgil looked up at him in shock. “But it… I’m…” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“It is just a bed Virgil,” Logan said.

But it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. Virgil was pretty sure touching the bed of a royal family member without permission would be considered a capital offence. At least, it would in Mocnejsi. Yet, Logan was expecting him to just… crawl into it?

“Please just get up here,” Logan said. Virgil’s caution at touching something he was definitely sure he should not be allowed to be touching wared with his resolve to repay his literal life debt to Logan by doing whatever he wanted.

 Feeling honestly a bit sick to his stomach, Virgil slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Logan scooted back over to the left side of the bed, and Virgil cautiously sat down on the empty side of the bed. After a second of hesitation he slowly laid down, his head hitting a soft fluffy pillow. He jumped when Logan flopped the covers on top of both of them.

Virgil took a long moment to absorb the situation while Logan took off his glasses and reached over to turn off the light next to him. He’d never slept in a bed before, or if he had he’d been too young to remember. In the orphanage there was a lack of actual beds due to overcrowding and there had always been someone bigger and stronger that Virgil didn’t dare fight for the use of them. During training, none of the kids had a bed. Only a few of the higher ups had ones at the more permanent training sites. There were very few situations where any of the assassins, at least a Virgil’s level, would be allowed to touch a real bed.

 The light switched off, plunging them into darkness.

“Is this…?” Virgil said, eyes still pointed towards the ceiling even though his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to see it. “Do you want… things?”

“Things?” Logan asked.

Virgil did not move his head, but he did reach over and put his hand slightly above Logan’s knee. Logan didn’t move, so Virgil slid his hand up.

Virgil’s wrist was grabbed immediately and pulled firmly away from Logan’s inner thigh. He did not let go afterwards, his fingers squeezing hard, but not quite painfully. “Never,” Logan said, his voice harsher than it had ever been even on the day when Virgil was nothing more than an intruder with deadly intent. “Never offer anything like that to anyone ever again.”

 “I was just…”

“I know what you were doing,” Logan said, voice icy, “and it inadmissible. Never offer that again for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I... yes.”

“Promise me.”

Virgil took a short moment to think. “I promise,” he agreed.

“Good,” Logan said, releasing his hand. His voice got softer too. “Good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, though Virgil had no delusions that Logan had fallen asleep. He could almost feel the tension.

“Sorry,” Virgil finally said softly.

“It’s not something you should be apologizing for,” Logan replied. The bed moved as Logan shifted and a hand lightly touched the top of his head. “Just… never.”

 “Okay,” Virgil said. He shifted slightly after a moment until his head was in the crook of Logan’s arm. Logan brushed the hair out of his face with the hand that had been on his head.

“Goodnight Virgil,” Logan said.

“Goodnight,” Virgil responded. They were quiet after that, though Virgil was still awake for a while yet and Logan’s hand slowly stroked through his hair for a while. Eventually though, Virgil relaxed into mattress. He stuck his hand into his pocket and curled it around the charm in his pocket. The bed was nice, he thought. It was soft and warm… and safe. He finally fell asleep.

  Chapter 26

Patton did their new special knock on the door so Logan and Virgil would know it was just him and they didn’t need to hide the fact that Virgil was sleeping in the prince’s room. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and just shoved open the door. He was surprised to see that Logan was not already out of bed and wondered for a moment if he had broken his promise stayed up way too late reading like he was sometimes known to do. Yet, then, Logan spoke from the bed. “I’m awake,” he called.

Confused, Patton stepped into the room. Logan wasn’t one for lazing around in bed; usually he was out of bed the moment he woke.

 He stepped over to the bed and had to stifle a smile when he recognized the problem. Logan was awake, but Virgil was still sleeping, and he was half on top of Logan, his arms wrapped around him.

“Why don’t you just squirm out of his arms like you do me?” Patton asked, keeping his voice low.

“He isn’t like you,” Logan said. He did not bother to quiet himself at all.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked amused.

In answer, Logan started to move as though to squirm out of Virgil’s death grip on him. In response, Virgil made a pitiful mewling sound in his sleep that landed like a piercing blow straight to the heart. Logan stopped moving immediately and Virgil shifted to grip Logan tighter.

 “Aw!” Patton said.

“It’s not cute,” Logan insisted. “I���ve been stuck for hours and I have to pee.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll save you.” He rounded the bed to Virgil’s side and crawled up on it. “Virgil, honey,” he entreated softly. “I think it’s time for me to get cuddles so Lo can get up.” Patton softly touched Virgil’s shoulder and pulled at him gently. He reached forward to carefully pry Virgil’s arms off of Logan.

Virgil made a more confused than heartbreaking sound this time, turning towards Patton so Patton could wrap his arms around him. Logan managed to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

39448

Logan made it off the bed and dashed towards the bathroom as Virgil’s arms came around Patton and squeezed. Patton laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Virgil’s eyes started to flicker a bit.

“Good morning, honey,” Patton said softly. “Did you sleep good?”

He hummed sleepily. “Beds are nice,” he said. Patton felt a slight pang at that because it implied he didn’t get to sleep in beds very much, but he chose to shove that aside.

“They are,” Patton agreed. Virgil’s eyes started to close again. “Honey,” Patton laughed. “I think it’s time to wake up now.”

 Virgil made a sleepy whining sound, squeezing Patton tighter. “Don’t you want breakfast?” Patton asked. That question managed to make Virgil open his eyes again. “I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen to eat that way it’s nice and fresh and I can introduce you to Mama real quick.” He neglected to mention the fact that they really did not have a choice. Mr. Deknis had blabbed to Mama about Virgil, and worse, had apparently mentioned that Virgil was skinny. As soon as he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been met with an already worked up Mama firmly insisting that she meet Virgil sometime today.

 He wasn’t going to tell Virgil that though, because he thought it might scare him away from both Mama and Mr. Deknis.

Virgil thought about the prospect of breakfast for a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll be awake.”

“Good,” Patton said. He reached up to bop him on the nose. Virgil narrowed his eyes and then bopped him back making Patton giggle. He sat up then, and Virgil let him. “Let’s get you something to wear and do your hair,” Patton suggested. Virgil nodded and reluctantly got out of bed, just as Logan returned to the room. “We’re going to go downstairs for breakfast,” Patton told Logan. “That way Virgil can meet my mom.” He gave Logan a significant look and Logan nodded once in understanding that this was not a choice.

 Logan and Virgil got dressed, and Patton did Virgil’s hair up nice, before Patton led them out of the royal wing. They went down the main staircase instead of the spiral staircase that went right to the kitchen, mostly because it would be very busy, and Patton thought they should probably eat in the main dining room anyway. He could feel Virgil getting more anxious as they entered the busier part of the castle, and he stuck close to either Patton or Logan from the time they hit the top of the steps all the way to the main dining room.

 There were a few people in the dining room already eating breakfast when they arrived. Virgil’s curiosity seemed to temporarily overwhelm his anxiety as he looked around the large hall and at all of the people there. Patton looked around trying to see it through his eyes. He’d been running around this place since he was little, so he never really thought about how big the room was or how grandly it was decorated, but Virgil was just seeing it for the first time. Patton smiled at him as he guided him to one of the seats. There was already muffins on the table so Patton grabbed one and plopped it in front of Virgil.

 Virgil frowned down at the muffin dubiously. “You just… keep food out in the open?” he asked.

Right.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Patton promised. “No one here would have put anything in it.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked around at the other occupants of the room suspiciously.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “No one even knew we would be down here for breakfast. Nobody would just put something in random people’s food for no reason.”

Virgil gave him a look like he’d just told him people could in fact breathe under water. Virgil was really from a… whole different world, wasn’t he?

 “It’s really fine,” Patton said. “Logan and I have eaten things on the table like this a lot.”

“I’m surprised your not dead yet,” Virgil said.

Logan rolled his eyes and reached for a muffin. Virgil slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Really?” Logan asked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “No eating unsecured food!”

“Virgil,” Logan groaned.

“I bet you don’t even know what common poisons taste like.”

“No,” Logan said. “I don’t because I don’t worry about being poisoned on a daily basis!”

“You should!”

People were starting to look over at them. Patton shot an awkward smile at the woman a few chairs down.

20285

“Just don’t eat the muffins Logan,” Patton said under his breath.

“I do not understand why-”

“Because it’s stupid as he-”

“Shush,” Patton commanded out of the corner of his mouth, “people are watching, and Virgil is just a normal castle resident.”

That shut the both of them up at least.

“No muffins for now,” Patton said. “I assume it’s okay to eat the things they bring straight from the kitchen.”

Virgil looked a bit leery of this still, but he nodded.

“Good,” Patton said, “then we’ll just wait for that to get here and then everyone will be happy, right?”

Logan opened his mouth and Patton turned to glare at him.

“Right?”

 Logan closed his mouth, though clearly, he did not want to give in so easily. They’d be doubtlessly rehashing this conversation once they were alone again.

Patton caught sight of one of the kitchen workers he knew fairly well come out of the kitchen and deliver food to a group of people who were there before them. She caught sight of them and walked over likely to ask them what they wanted for breakfast. Patton watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil tensed, eyeing her approach suspiciously and she slowed under his glare.

This was going to be a long breakfast.

  Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

 Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

 Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

 He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

 Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

 Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

 Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

 Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

 By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

 It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

 She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

 Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

 “Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

 She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

  Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

 That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

 Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

 “And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

 “Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

 “Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

 “We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

 Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

 “Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

43410

“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

 “Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

 “You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

 “That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

 Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

 “I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

 Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

 “Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

 Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

 He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

 It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

 Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

 Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

  Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

 Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

 “Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

 “Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

 “Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

 “Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

 “Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

 “Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

 Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

 “I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

 Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

 “Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

 He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

  Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

 “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

 Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

 “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

 “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

 Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

 It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

 Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

 He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

 “I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

 “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

  Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

 “He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

 “I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

 Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

48468

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

48588

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

#proofread stories #not writing

[munumono]

A Poet's Poem . 03

part 2

• Toji Fushiguro X Reader • part 3

• warnings: gun, stalker, blood, dark (just in case)

• I'm quacking 17 notes + 1 reblog am I dreaming

• Thank. You. So. Fruity. Much.

• Asking you for a virtual date

"I love thee with a heart that shall not die, till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old."

You placed your cup on the table after taking a sip of your beverage. You looked at the man who asked you for a 'tea-coffee' invitation. You sighed at the thought of maybe being at home, making plans for a party night or just laying back and reading prose & poems, or binging on movies instead of having a morning date with a stranger; well, a stranger for now, at most.

"Are you feeling bored?" The man spoke interrupting your thoughts. You quickly shook your head signifying you didn't, but you did feel bored. "Don't worry, it's fine to feel bored." The man said with a genuine smile.

"Do you, do you have something important to do or to ask which involves me?" You spoke. "Just because, I did say no for this tea-coffee invitation of yours, but, you said you have something to show...may I know what is it?" You asked.

"Sure, but first, let me introduce thyself" Backing the chair a bit to stand, he stood up and slightly coughed to clear his voice, which was, apparently just a show off but we're going to let it pass. "Toji Fushiguro, the 'only' good looking staff and receptionist of The Lilies Hotel." He said.

To be honest, you really did find the 'only good looking' part a bit random and funny. You laughed a little. Staying on your seat, you introduced yourself. "Y/N, Y/N S/N."

"A name as pretty as the person!" He exclaimed placing himself onto the seat. You disagreed to that compliment as an act of politeness. "So..." You said. "Oh, I know I know, okay so, these are just few questions if you don't mind me asking." He said and waited for your permission and continued as soon as you gave one.

"Okay so, during the time the gun was with you, did anything strange happen? Like some unknown people happen to follow you or anything?" He questioned.

You thought for a second before replying, "Not really, it was all fine, except the gun. The gun really kept me terrified for days." You answered with a slight laugh towards the ending.

Toji nodded, trying to think of something which you apparently didn't have an idea of. "About the gun, where did you exactly find it?"

"In my bag, after I woke up on the bench outside a coffee shop. I don't really remember how I ended up there, but I kind of feel it's the same gun which I came across the night before; when it was laying under the lamppost on the street."

He nodded again. Staring at the table, he happen to figure out a conclusion. He seemed unsatisfied though. It was pretty hectic for him trying to find the gun for the past days. The gun belonged to him.

Under the mask of a charming staff working at this very hotel, he happened to be a part of something which he didn't want anyone to figure out, especially you. He lived a simple life, until the dusk.

Being an assassin paid him pretty well. The bigger the risk, the bigger the cheque. But the only thing which worried him the most was unintentionally getting people involved in his life, which might lead to things he was too scared to believe. He didn't want his 'after dusk life' to be the reason of someone's...death.

For this reason, he intentionally lose all his contacts with the people he was close with and, avoided being close to someone in the future. But with you, he has barely any choice. The gun along with other weapons he was provided by the very gang, was missing for weeks, making him pause all his assigned missions.

He couldn't let the Superiors know about this, it was risky. Not for him, but for the people he knew, as in colleagues. He leaned back on the chair, staring at the ceiling, multiple thoughts running in his head.

"Excuse me, but, are there anymore questions?" You asked. Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at you. "Yeah, one last question." A playful smile appeared on his face. "Are you free tonight?" He asked.

You stared at the man for couple of seconds, not knowing what to answer. You definitely didn't want to say 'yes' but for the 'no', you were trying to figure out a proper excuse. Before you could speak, the man stood up exclaiming. "I will take the silence as a yes. Meet you at seven here, then. Enjoy your 'tea - coffee', I have to go get back at work. If you need something do inform me or anyone of the staffs. See you then." He finished his sentence with a wink which complimented his playful grin.

Toji would definitely not want anyone to be involved in his life, but he asked you out for tonight. Undoubtedly, he wasn't doing it all just to impress you, but more of using you for his own very mission he had to pause because of his missing gun. Toji is a man of words. He will finish something he started in any way he can. He didn't know that finding the gun after weeks will also come with a gift, which was you.

Your unknown involvement in this situation made things a lot easier for him. And he wouldn't let the chance go. Even though, he kept his eyes on you if you also happen to be living a 'simple life till dusk ' like him and being a part of the opposite party who had almost caught him the night he lost his gun just in case. Can't let his guards down.

He was surprised you didn't recognize him after both of yours first encounter, or pretended not to. He did recognize you right after the moment he found out where his gun was residing. Noting your time of arrival and departure for work, and all other things just to figure out the best time he can ask you to return his gun.

Thinking you might freak out if he asks about it in person, sending a note was the only option he thought seemed normal. Adding a flower bouquet to it was his habit of 'perfection'.

Now as for how your involvement made things easier for Toji was only known to Toji himself. Whatever he does, but he won't let you get affected by his plan in any sort of way. In short, he will be using you but will be also protecting you which, somehow, doesn't seems to make sense.

#toji does something to me i can't explain #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji x y/n #toji imagine

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

I hate to be an asshole, but I see this a lot and I'd like your take because while we have differing opinions on some things, your metas are spot on (and I binged half your stories last weekend, oops) and I know you'll be straight up with me on this. What "chemistry" between Zuko and Katara? I keep seeing that and not getting it? The chemistry when he roughed up her grandmother and threatened her village? The chemistry when he tied her to a tree and violated her boundaries? (1/3)

The chemistry when he hired a trained assassin to stalk her good friend and if collateral damage happened, oopsie? The chemistry when he stabbed her in the back after she was nice to him in the crystal catacombs? The chemistry when he demanded that she accept him? Or the chemistry when he showed he didn’t know her at all? The chemistry when both of them were grossed out being thought a couple? Or is it the chemistry when he saved her and Katara couldn’t wait to kiss another guy? (2/3)

I dislike r/eylo from Star Wars fandom. I think it sends the wrong message. But as much as I hate it, there was chemistry there from the first. Rey is attracted to him and Kylo is attracted to her. They don’t want to be, but they are and it plays out in the next two movies. There was none of that in ATLA and I can understand z/ks saying it but other people? What am I missing? Where am I not looking? I’m not even that huge on Katara/Aang but Zuko/Katara chemistry where? (3/3)

Obligatory disclaimer: this is my personal response to anon’s questions and my personal thoughts on Zvtara’s chemistry. I’m not going to put this into the main tags - much less the Zvtara tag! - because while I believe this is a genuine question, I don’t doubt there’s at least one person out there who will misconstrue it as “hate” because the A:TLA fandom is, uh, aggressive in its ship wars lol. However, if I have any Zvtara shippers following me, I encourage you to reblog this post with your own thoughts! Please refrain from sending your commentary on anon unless you’re going to be friendly about it, lol; I like to keep my blog positive and welcoming! Thank you :)

Firstly, I am EXTREMELY flattered that you enjoy my metas so much and binged half my fics!! I was grinning so gleefully as I read that part of your asks,, y’all are too sweet to me. 💛

Okay. Moving on.

So, the main question here seems to be this: What chemistry exists between Zuko and Katara in A:TLA?

Short answer? None, in my opinion.

Longer answer? For all the reasons you outline in your asks, I do not perceive any romantic chemistry between Zuko and Katara within the series run of A:TLA. Note the qualifiers: “romantic” and “within the series run.” I’ll try to break down what I mean!

“no romantic chemistry”

For one, a romantic interest with anyone in the Gaang would have undermined Zuko’s entire redemption arc, full stop. Yes, I mean anyone. For Zuko to have joined the Gaang because of romantic interest* would have been… counterproductive. Zuko joined the Gaang because he realized - to put it very simply - that the Fire Nation was wrong. He realized how he’d been indoctrinated since birth. He realized that he could help the Avatar (instead of trying to, uh, kill him lmao) by teaching him firebending. He realized he could help Aang defeat the Fire Lord and bring peace to the four nations. Zuko realized he could help end the war. He could help break the cycles of violence and abuse that had in part made his own life so miserable. For him to join the Gaang because of romantic interest? Completely takes away from all of that. A key theme of A:TLA is dismantling imperialist power, propaganda, rhetoric, etc. Zuko’s decision to fight against Fire Nation imperialism is crucial to his redemption. He could not have been redeemed without making that choice. Thus, if Zuko had joined the Gaang because of romantic interest, it would have been completely counteractive to his redemption.

(*That is, the relatively popular [? I think?] implication that Zuko and Katara’s moment in “The Crossroads of Destiny” was romantic-coded and thus Zuko should have joined the Gaang at the end of Book 2 because he had romantic interest in Katara and she in him. I genuinely am clueless how people interpret that moment as romantic - like to me it’s honestly heartbreaking! Katara offers Zuko tentative sympathy only for him to stab her in the back minutes later - so if someone would like to share some thoughts, please feel free to do so!!)

On a similar note, for Zuko to take the lightning for Katara at the end of the series because of romantic interest would also undermine his redemption arc. Please note: this does not mean Zvtara shippers cannot interpret the Agni Kai as being romantic-coded. Of course they can! That’s what fanon is for! Transformative works! But in terms of canon, Zuko did not try (and fail, rip) to redirect Azula’s lightning because he was romantically interested in Katara. (I mean, in terms of canon, Zuko and Katara were both romantically interested in other people, too, so… Moot point, lol? But I digress.)

Zuko taking the lightning is about him learning to earn forgiveness and accept unconditional love from his family (both Iroh and the Gaang). It is a selfless act, and it directly parallels Zuko’s selfish act in “The Crossroads of Destiny” to stand silently while Azula strikes Aang with lightning, thus becoming complicit in Aang’s death. The point of his “sacrifice” is that Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone (and don’t get me wrong - the moment is doubly powerful with Katara, as she’s a primary protagonist!). Zuko did not attempt but fail to redirect the lightning because it was Katara he was protecting; he took it because it was the right thing to do. Zuko has learned to differentiate between “right and wrong” on his own. To at last put others before himself. To make his decision about romantic interest? To make Zuko’s most selfless act in the series (not to mention one of his only 100% selfless acts!) about out-of-the-blue “romantic love”? That not only lessens the impact of his decision, but it is also reductive to Zuko’s entire character and arc. There’s no romantic chemistry there.

Again, of course, fanon exists for purposes such as interpreting Zuko’s failed misdirection of the lightning to protect Katara as romantic. Go wild!! I’m talking strictly about canon.

So that pretty much summarizes why romantic interest with anyone in the Gaang would have been detrimental to Zuko’s redemption, hence why Zuko doesn’t have any canon romantic chemistry in the Gaang. It just ain’t there! It would have screwed over his arc! And again, because of all the reasons you outline, I cannot comfortably interpret any romantic chemistry between Zuko and Katara within the series run of A:TLA. Personally, romantic Zvtara would have been too sudden, too unexpected, and too… well, as I said: uncomfortable. Why would Katara have romantic interest in a guy who’d hurt her so many times? Who she’d only just forgiven? Why would Zuko have romantic interest in Katara, a girl he barely knew for most of the series? Especially when he already had feelings for a childhood friend? I, personally, just don’t get it.

But. You know what Zuko and Katara do have in canon?

A phenomenal platonic bond.

It develops very late, admittedly; Katara has only forgiven Zuko for the last five episodes of the series (5 out of 61… Katara was only on good terms with Zuko for 8% of the series, lmao). But Zuko and Katara are very, very similar personality-wise, so it follows that (eventually) they’d be great friends! Yeah, Zuko acts like an entitled dick for a good portion of “The Southern Raiders” lmao, but he ultimately respects Katara’s decision to spare Yon Rha (love that scene so much 🤧). Katara recognizes that Zuko is trying his best (if sometimes falling short) to redeem himself and earn the Gaang’s trust, and she also understands how - while she is completely justified in her anger! - holding that hatred close to her chest isn’t good for her. So she offers him a third chance (and honestly, Zuko should be forever grateful for that lmao!).

So what can a strong platonic bond lead to? Well, if it’s in your taste, a romantic relationship!

“within the series run”

As aforementioned, I don’t see any romantic chemistry between Zuko and Katara within the series run of A:TLA. I think Zuko has hurt Katara in too many ways - and again, she has only just forgiven him by the end of the show - for there to realistically have been any blossoming romance between them. I think romantic interest for anyone in the Gaang would undermine Zuko’s redemption. I also think M@iko and K@taang are well-implemented romances into A:TLA, so romantic Zvtara would not have fit into the narrative. (Doesn’t mean someone has to ship them!! I just mean they made logical sense and had narrative purpose within canon. That’s all.) But again, Zuko and Katara have a great platonic bond. So while I don’t see romance within the series run, I can understand why people might be attracted to Zvtara in post-canon!

Post-A:TLA (disregarding LOK, which I haven’t even seen lol) Zvtara has some solid potential. I’m personally intrigued by the idea of how they’d navigate their relationship amidst all the politics! Basically, any relationship with a strong platonic bond can have potential for “more.” That’s why people ship T@ang, that’s why people ship Zvkaang, Zvkka, M@ilee, etc. So while Zvtara may not have romantic chemistry within the show - in my opinion! - they’ve got one of my favorite platonic bonds, so I can totally get people wanting to explore that bond in post-A:TLA and possibly translating it to romance.

So for some people, then, it might be less about “chemistry” in A:TLA itself, but more how their relationship could grow and change after the end of the series!

Quick sidebar: I mentioned that while I do not interpret the final Agni Kai as romantic, I’m fine when other people do. It’s fanon! Ain’t no big thing! But also, Katara has forgiven Zuko by that point. I, personally, am not comfortable with reading any of Zuko and Katara’s TSR-and-earlier interactions as romantic because of the imbalanced power dynamic. Example: I don’t think Zuko tying Katara to a tree and manipulating her with her mother’s necklace was romantic, and I don’t like the resulting implications when people do treat it as such. Zuko was still so indoctrinated by Fire Nation propaganda… Yeah, from Book 1 to about halfway through Book 3, I personally don’t feel comfortable shipping Zuko with anyone outside of the Fire Nation. Pre-redemption Zuko was not the most fun person to be around if you were non-Fire Nation.

But as I’ve said, these are all just my opinions! Again, if I have any Zvtara shippers following me, please feel free to reblog with your own thoughts! I would love to know where the idea comes from that Zvtara had chemistry within A:TLA, since I personally don’t see any romantic vibes (though platonic chemistry, of course, abounds.)

(For the record, I don’t know anything about Star Wars, which is why I haven’t brought up R.eylo, lol.)

TL;DR - To me, there isn’t any canon romantic chemistry for Zvtara. Narratively, I think it would undermine Zuko’s arc. Logically, because of how Zuko treated Katara for 92% of the series, I personally cannot interpret any of their interactions as romantic. But their platonic bond? Beautiful!! Thus, if people want to explore post-A:TLA, fanon Zvtara, I am all for it.

#hope this at least partially answers your question anon! #anon #amy answers #amy analyzes

[frostedfaves]

To Build A Home (9)

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: Rosa spent years building a friendship, relationship, and eventually a marriage and home with you. This tale follows your journey together up until her sudden murder. Now that you’ve tracked down her killer before anyone else, will you do the right thing and send him to prison or take care of him yourself?

Warnings: violence, angry!reader, angst in general, unedited chapter because I was in a rush to make this post

A/N: I’m thinking the next chapter may be the final one just to tie things up (not sure yet), but I’m still committed to taking blurb requests for this universe as promised! reblogs and comments appreciated and thank you for reading!!

Previous chapter here

-

“Do you know what a gunshot wound feels like?”

The older man eyed you from his position across the room, arms raised on either side of him. You didn’t expect an answer from him. Truth be told, you wouldn’t know how to respond either if a detective walked into your shop, locked the door, flipped the open sign and pointed a gun at you. Then again, you weren’t guilty like him.

“I don’t, but I’m guessing you’re going to show me?” he answered in a sarcastic tone, but you were no stranger to body language. He was nervous, and the thought made you grin before you could stop yourself.

“I should, shouldn’t I?”

You crossed the room, your raised gun now inches from his forehead. Beads of sweat began to form on the skin there as you used your free hand to pull your phone from your pocket, showing him your lockscreen.

“You recognize that face?” He shrugged and you moved the device closer. “Of course you do, because you shot her. You shot Rosa Diaz, my wife, and left like nothing happened. She knows what a gunshot wound feels like because it killed her.”

His eyes watched you as you slipped the phone back into your pocket slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly when you placed the gun back into the holster on your hip. The relief was short-lived when you grabbed him, throwing him to the ground and placing a knee on his chest. You gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him into you until your noses nearly touched.

“You may not know a gunshot wound, but I’ll make sure you know pain way worse than mine.”

You pressed a knife engraved with Rosa’s initials to his throat with his free hand, enjoying the way he squirmed against you entirely too much. Before you could torture him any further, your phone began to ring in your pocket. You pulled it out with your weaponless hand, sighing when you saw Jake’s name on the screen.

“I’m kind of busy right now.”

“I know, I followed you.” A light tapping was heard on the door, and you turned to see Jake on the other side of the glass. “Let me in.”

“Move and you’ll regret it,” you threatened the killer under you before jumping to your feet, letting Jake in and locking the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“I could tell by the way you looked as you left the precinct that this wasn’t going to end well.” His eyes roamed over the form of the man on the floor before turning to you with a sigh. “So I’m guessing he’s the perp then...what’s your plan here exactly?”

You opened your mouth to tell him all the ways you planned to make his life a living hell, stopping short at the sound of a phone ringing across the room. You rounded the cashier station to find it, and when you did, your mouth fell open once more.

“Mark,” you began, walking toward him with a death grip on his cellphone. “You want to tell me who this is?” You pushed the screen so close to his face that his eyes nearly crossed trying to read it, but you recognized the look of fear in his eyes when he did.

“That’s my boyfriend, Tom. That’s why there’s a heart next to his name.”

“Okay,” you answered simply, placing his phone on the floor next to you. “And what’s Tom’s last name? Actually, give me his full name.”

“Thomas Moore,” he confessed, and you snapped. You straddled him, knees on either side of his stomach as your hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed harshly. Jake called your name and ran over, attempting to pull you away, and you fought him off with your free hand.

“Back off, Peralta! I want to know why this piece of shit is dating the person who ‘robbed’ him, and why he’s still dating him after he supposedly just ‘robbed’ him again last night!”

“It was staged...for insurance payouts...to fund our future...together!” Mark cried out, struggling against your continuously tightening grip.

“I see. You thought staging robberies, one of which resulted in the death of the love of my life, just so you could have money for the love of yours, was the smart thing to do.” Your knife clattered to the ground as you pulled your gun once more from its holster and aimed it right at his forehead. “I dare you to give me one reason why I shouldn’t take you from Thomas right now.”

“I’ve got one,” Jake’s voice came from behind you. “Your promise to Rosa.”

Your breathing grew uneven at his words, the hand that held the gun beginning to shake as you mentally slipped into the scene from your memory.

-

“It was awful. The worst place I’ve ever been in my life, way worse than juvie.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into Rosa’s hair as you ran your hand along her back. “I wish I could’ve been there with you for comfort.”

“I’m glad you weren’t.” She lifted her head to meet your eyes, placing her arms on either side of you on the couch to keep her afloat. “I never want you to experience anything like prison. The nights were cold and lonely, and the days were full of watching my back because nobody likes cops in prison, obviously. I had to start a bunch of riots just to gain any kind of respect and ended up in solitary for a week.”

You watched as her eyes filled with tears, instantly pushing hair away from her face and gently rubbing her jaw with your thumbs.

“Just please, promise me you’ll never let yourself end up there. I know you, and I know that emotionally it would break you.”

You offered her a sympathetic smile, pulling her a bit closer to drop a kiss on her forehead. “I promise,” you whispered against her skin.

-

You took a deep breath as your eyes focused on Mark’s again, pulling your hand away and holstering your gun a final time. You took out your keys to the squad car as you stood and walked over to Jake.

“Cuff him and bring him in for me. I’ll meet you at the precinct.” You switched keys with him and left the store, just barely hearing Jake reading Mark his rights behind you.

-

A knocking on the passenger window brought you back to the present, and you unlocked the car door to let Jake in.

“Hey,” he greeted as he sat down, handing you the knife. “You left this behind, and Mark is all taken care of now. A squad is headed out to grab Thomas too.”

You nodded in recognition of his words, slipping the object into a jacket pocket. “Thanks for...well, everything today, actually.”

“Of course. So, where are we headed?”

“I really could use a hug from Amy right now, so your place,” you told him as you turned the car on.

“You okay to drive?”

“Yeah.” You looked over at him, the two of you sharing a soft smile. “I’ll be okay.”

-

Tags: @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @milkfromhell @marie-03 @xetherealbeautyx @jay-is-groovy @gaulty74

#to build a home #rosa diaz #rosa diaz x reader #rosa diaz imagine #rosa diaz x fem!reader #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine fic series #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 fic series #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic #b99

[cardentist]

this isn’t a proper discourse post, I Agree with a lot of what the op said but there’s specific things about it that get under my skin in a way that makes me want to talk about it, but I don’t want to engage with that post both because I don’t want to speak over the point that’s being made and frankly because I don’t want to be misinterpreted because of the point that’s being made in it.

so for context, I’ll just say that it was a long post about how a lack of engagement with women characters in fandom spaces is tied to misogyny. just be aware that I’m responding to something specific and not criticisms of this in general. (feel free to dm me if you want to see the post for yourself)

the rest of this is going to be rambly and a bit unfocused, so I want to get this out the door right at the top: it is not actually someone’s moral obligation to engage with or create fan content. all other points aside, what this amounts to is labeling people as bigoted for either not creating or engaging with content that you want to see, and while the individual may or may not be a bigot it’s not actually anyone’s job to tailor their fandom experience to cater to you. 

fandom is not activism. it’s not Wrong to point out that a lack of content about women in fandom is likely indicative of the influence of our misogynistic society. and suggesting that people examine their internalized biases isn’t just fine, it’s something that everyone should be doing all the time. but saying that it is literally someone’s “responsibility” to “make an effort” by consuming content about women or they’re bigoted is presenting the consumption of fan content as a moral litmus test that you pass and fail not by how you engage with content but by not engaging with all of the Correct content. 

judging people’s morality based on what characters they read meta for or look at fanart for is, a mistake. it Can Be Indicative of internalized biases but it is not, in and of itself, a moral failing that has to be corrected.

if you want more content to be created about women in fandom then you do it by spreading content about women in fandom, not by guilting people into engaging with it by saying that they’re bigots if they don’t. you encourage creation Through creation.

okay, now to address what Mainly set me off to inspire this post.

this post specifically went out of it’s way to present misogyny as the only answer for why this problem exists in fandom spaces. and while I absolutely agree that it’s a Factor, they left absolutely no room for nuance which included debunking “common excuses.” which, as you can probably guess, contained the things that ticked me off.

first off, you can’t judge that someone is disconnected from women in general based on their fandom consumption because the sum total of their being is not available on tumblr. 

people don’t always bear their souls in fandom spaces. just because they don’t actively post about a character or Characters doesn’t mean that they see them as lesser or that they don’t think about them. the idea that you can tell what a person’s moral beliefs are not based on what they’ve said or done but based on whether they engage with specific characters in a specific way in a specific space can Only work on the assumption that they engage with that space in a way that expresses the entirety of who they are or even their engagement with that specific media.

what I engage with on ao3 is different from what I engage with on tumblr, youtube, twitter, my friend’s dms, and my own head. people are going to engage with social media and fandom spaces specifically differently for different reasons. you can��t assume what the other parts of their lives look like based on this alone. 

second off, there can be other factors at play that influence people’s specific engagement with a fandom.

they specifically brought up the magnus archives as an example of a show with well written women. which while absolutely true, does Not mean that misogyny is the only option for why people wouldn’t engage with content about them as often. for me personally? a lot of fan content is soured because of how it presents jon. I relate to him very heavily as a neurodivergent and traumatized person, and he faces a Lot of victim blaming and dehumanization in the writing. sasha and martin are more or less the only main characters that Aren’t guilty of this, and sasha was out of the picture after season 1.

while this affects my enjoyment of fan content for these characters To Some Extent on it’s own (I love georgie, I love her a lot, but I can’t forget that she looked at someone and told them that they were better off dead because they couldn’t “choose” to not be abused), the bigger issue is fan content that Specifically doesn’t address the victim blaming and ableism as what it is, even presenting it as just Correct. 

this isn’t exclusive to the women in the show by any means, this is exactly why I avoid a lot of content about tim, but it affects a lot of the women who are main characters. that isn’t the Only reason, there’s more casual ableism and things that tear him down for other reasons (the prevalent theory that elias passed up on sasha because he’s afraid of how she’s More Competent In Jon In Every Single way. which comes with the unfortunate implications of jon being responsible for his own trauma because he just wasn’t competent enough to avoid it) but that’s the main one that squicks me out.

of course not all fan content does this, and I Do engage with content about these characters, but sometimes it’s easier to just stick with content that centers on my comfort character because it’s more likely to look at his character with the nuance required to see that it is victim blaming and ableism. 

it’s not enough to say that the characters are well rounded or well written and conclude that if someone isn’t consuming or creating content about them then it has to be due to misogyny and nothing else.

there’s also just like, the Obvious answer. two most prominent characters are two men that are in a canonical gay relationship, which draws in queer men/masc people on it’s own but the centering of their othering and trauma Particularly draws in traumatized queer people that are starved for content. georgie and melanie are both fleshed out characters in and of themselves, but their relationship with each other doesn’t have nearly as much direct screen time. and daisy and basira have a lot more screen time together and about each other, but their relationship is very intentionally non-canon because of its role as a commentary on cop pack mentality.

people are More Likely to create content for the more prominent relationship in the show and be drawn into the fandom through that relationship in the first place. I have no doubt that there Are misogynistic fans of the show, but focusing on the relationship and the characters that make you happy isn’t and indication that you’re one of them.

which brings us to the big one, the one that sparked me into writing this in the first place (and the last that I have time for if I’m being honest). the “common excuses” section in general is, extremely dismissive obviously but there’s only one section that genuinely upsets me. 

without copying and pasting what they said directly, it essentially boils down to this: while they recognize that gay and trans men are “allowed” to relate to men, they’re still Men which makes them misogynistic. Rather than acknowledge Why gay and trans men would engage with fan-content specifically that caters to them they present it as a given that it’s 100% due to misogyny anyways. they present queer men engaging with content about themselves as them treating women like they’re “unworthy of attention,” calling it a “patriarchal tendency” that they have to unlearn.

being gay and trans does not mean that you’re immune to misogyny, being a woman doesn’t even mean that you’re immune to misogyny, but that’s engaging in bad faith in a way that really puts a bad taste in my mouth. 

queer men aren’t just like, Special Men that have Extra Bonus Reasons to be relate to boys, they’re people who are more likely to Need fandom spaces to explore facets of themselves. and while you can Relate to any character, it feels good to be able to explore those aspect with characters that resemble you or how you see yourself.

when I first started actively seeking out fandom spaces in middle school I engaged with content about queer men more or less exclusively. at this point I had no concept of what trans people were, and wouldn’t begin openly considering that I might be a trans person until high school. I knew that I’d be happier as a gay man before I knew I could be a gay man, and that’s affected my relationship with fandom forever. 

I engage with most things pretty casually, reblogging meta and joke posts when I see them, but what I go out of my way to engage with is largely an expression of my gender identity and sexuality. I project myself onto a comfort character and then I Consume content for them because that was how I was able to express myself before I knew that I needed to. it’s not that girl characters aren’t “worthy” of me relating to them, it’s that I specifically go to certain fandom spaces to express and work through my gender and sexuality. that’s what I use those fandom spaces For.

I imagine that I’ll need this crutch less when I’m allowed to transition and if I ever find a relationship situation that works out for me. but also like, why should I? it’s not actually hurting anyone for me to explore my gender and sexuality through fanfic until the end of time. nor does it hurt anyone for me to focus on my comfort characters. 

fandom is personal comfort and entertainment, not a moral obligation. people absolutely should engage with women in media and real life with more nuance and energy than they do, but fandom spaces are not the place to police or judge that. 

#discourse #I've been writing and rewriting this for 4 and a half hours instead of going to bed before 9 am #I already know that absolutely no one is going to read this so I don't know why I did this to myself #also I couldn't find a place to fit this in so I'm just gonna say it here #sometimes people just engage with fandom based on characters that they find attractive #and if that means boys then that means boys #it doesn't have to be more complicated than that