#there is not one good reason for why the possibility of him being bi should be excluded

[will80sbyers]

"bylers need to be humbled" and it's just us shipping our ship that's ALREADY HALF CANON because Will is canonically in love with Mike, and hoping that the explicit parallels in the text of the show put there by the writers mean that Mike reciprocates so that they can be happy together. the majority of us even think that El is gonna be perfectly ok because she doesn't want to be in a relationship anymore so we're not even hating on the other love interest no matter what people want to tell themselves... and we're doing this while constantly being harassed by homophobic fans too that reached the real level of delusion of thinking that Will likes Eleven when he's clearly canonically gay, only because they wanted to deny even the smallest possibility that Will and Mike could be queer

[tiredfox64]

Part three of Go for the Kill? But its based ok the ending where reason is with all three of the brothers? She soon gets knocked up and the threee fight over whose it is? >:3

The Soil was Tilled Enough

Prior notes: I knew somebody would ask for this. Had a That’s so Raven moment when I was writing that last part.

Pairings: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: You’re gonna have a stroke with my reasoning.

You are faced with a light pink stick in your hands. You were growing tired and sick just days before which worried the brothers a lot. The last thing they want is for their vicious woman to grow horribly ill. Oh but this is no illness. This is the miracle of life.

Yeah this is a strange situation. Truly a spectacle that has some people, or more like someone, disappointed. Liu Kang ain’t too happy that his paid assassin would be out of commission for at least a year. What he also doesn’t like is hearing that the brothers are fighting over who is the father. The yelling is really getting annoying.

“It can’t possibly be your child! I slept with her first!” Bi-Han yelled directly in Tomas’ face.

“We all slept with her first! You are just jealous that the baby is possibly mine!” Tomas yelled right back.

The only one staying calm was Kuai Liang. He stayed right next to you, rubbing your belly as you contemplated the same thing. Who is the father?

Alright, so you put too much faith into Plan B. Guess it wasn’t made to handle loads upon loads of baby-making liquid from men who probably never allowed themselves to feel relief in quite a while. Plus the fact that they love you a lot made the chances of you getting pregnant much higher. I think they were aiming for that goal but I’m not a mind reader.

“What are we gonna do? Are we ready enough to handle having a baby and raising it?” You questioned, concerned about way too many things.

“Of course can handle it. The baby will be in safe hands. Even if the baby is not mine I promise to take care of them as if they were my own.” Kuai Liang made that promise to you.

Kuai Liang really loves you and just wants the best for you. He doesn’t want you to worry too much especially now that’s you are pregnant. His commitment to you made you feel a little better, knowing he won’t be mad about whose baby it is. The other two…yeah that’s gonna take some time.

At this point Bi-Han had Tomas in a headlock which made Tomas start punching Bi-Han’s arms in defense. Kuai Liang ran in to split the two apart.

“Enough of this! This fighting won’t solve anything.” He yelled at them both.

“I do not understand why you are not threatened by the fact that Tomas might have impregnated her. What good will that baby do coming from a man like him?” Bi-Han was being harsh again which made Tomas punch him.

“It does not matter. She is pregnant and she wants to keep it. We must support her no matter what.”

Kuai Liang was right and all the brothers had to agree with his statement. Though Bi-Han was still being as stubborn as ever. If he just keeps the mindset that it’s his baby in there he will be fine.

“Well, do you know how far along you are?” Tomas asked.

“Considering the last time we did it was a couple of weeks ago and I’m getting sick, it might be four to six weeks.”

Oof, if it’s six it can only get worse when it comes to the symptoms. Get ready to start taking bathroom breaks and getting sick from smells.

“It will still be a few weeks before we can get a paternity test done.” You added on.

“We should do that. Settle this debate early on whose child this is.” Bi-Han was on board with doing a paternity test even though he didn’t know you can test that while still pregnant. It’s that old mindset don’t worry.

“I want to the know the gender first. I wanna see if we are having a baby boy or a baby girl.” Tomas gushed at the idea.

“No you don’t, Tomas! We will not wait to find out the gender first.”

“Yes we will, brother. It will teach you to have some patience. It will also test if you still love her enough to take care of her while she is going through this.”

Kuai Liang was shutting Bi-Han down at every opportunity. How dare his little brother accuse him of not loving you. Fine, he’ll wait. They’ll all wait. And as that goes on they will start preparing things for you like a nursery. They gonna spoil the hell out of you.

A woman who is pregnant is a strong woman indeed. They will make sure to take good care of you. They will do their parts as the possible fathers.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Finally! Week thirteen! You can expect your results to be one hundred percent accurate when it comes to the gender. Now here’s the interesting part—

“WHAT!” You, Tomas, Bi-Han, and Kuai Liang all yelled at the doctor in shock.

…I didn’t get to finish. Let me speak up. Damn…

As I was saying the interesting part was that as time went on you noticed your belly was getting quite big. It was a little too early but you didn’t think it was anything much. This was your first time being pregnant so you thought it was normal.

Not necessarily.

“T-twins? We are having twins? And they are all ours?” Tomas was questioning the doctor on how accurate it was.

The ultrasounds did show two little babies. Two little nuggets growing inside you. And they are both boys, congratudolences!

“It’s called Heteropaternal superfecundation. It’s incredibly rare but it can happen. Especially to someone with three partners.” That doctor was throwing shade at you. She was just jealous.

“So one of those boys is definitely mine,” Tomas was all smiles, “But what about the other one?”

Yeah, what about the other one? Still got the other two. They are blood related so this might be harder.

If it’s Kuai Liang’s this might not end well for him since Bi-Han was staring him down with a death glare. Luckily the doctor had something to say about that.

“That’s the thing, we can’t tell. Because they are related there is some difficulties. So as far as any of you know, they are both the father of that other little boy.”

Kuai Liang is content with that. He is just happy to start a family and have a child with you. Bi-Han…ah he gives up. There is no point in being upset about this. There is nothing anyone can do. He’ll be happy to have a son of his own that he can train and possibly be the next grandmaster to the Lin Kuei.

All the brothers are happy to be fathers to a wonderful set of twins, dizygotic twins to be exact. Tomas is already imagining having the twins play together and teaching them to take care of one another. Kuai Liang is imagining caring for them both and teaching them to be good brother. Bi-Han already preparing in his mind a plan to train his son. That’s his responsibility.

The tension between the brothers dissipated. There was no reason to fight and stress you out even more. Looks like they better get more things ready for the babies. The nursery has to be big enough to accommodate two of them.

You have a good support system going on here. I hope you are happy with your multiple lovers and your set of twins.

…

Oh don’t tell me, you want to know who the father actually is. Alright so the clinic didn’t actually have the advanced technology to figure out who the father was when it came to Kuai Liang and Bi-Han. They were only certain on Tomas.

The true father is…I don’t know. What? Did you think I knew all? No! Even I don’t know. And do you even wanna know? Just let be happy that they are happy. Now get some rest, mama. You have a long journey ahead of you and it’s called motherhood.

After notes: Why do I keep doing twins? I’m scaring myself. Here’s a fact about me I have a high chance of having twins if I were to get pregnant. Yeah, I know, crazy. Please tell me I haven’t manifested this for myself my period still hasn’t come oh gosh 😭. I would have done triplets for this fic but nature doesn’t work like that. Well since I’m done I get to eat. Adiós! (Pls make my period show up y’all)

[iliketangerines]

Good day Tangerine, I hope you're doing well. Sorry if I have many requests for you, I hope it isn't too much of a bother. But I really love your writing and I was hoping you'd be fine with writing fluff?

With a reader who's struggling with her classes to the point that she's going to flunk because that subject is weighing her grades down. Still, she hides this and tries to study harder with her own but can't understand it. When Bi-Han catches her staying up late one night, crying, he offers to teach her.

At first, he's like your typical strict Asian mother who would snap when you don't understand, but when you begin to tear up, he realizes that being rough won't help you and tries to teach you softly. Turns out all you need is practice and patience.

just need some patience

a/n: i'm imagining like a teenager bi han who's still training to be grandmaster rn

pairing: bi han x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Bi Han usually isn’t up at this hour, late at night and wandering the compound

for some odd reason, he can’t fall asleep and had tried to stay as still as possible to try and trick his body into going to sleep

but it hadn’t worked and so now he was heading to the training rooms to try and work out some of the energy when he passes by the library

no one else should be awake at this hour, and yet the light was on

Bi Han stalls for a moment, wondering if he should go in and see who’s there or just worry about himself

his curiosity wins out, and he finds you at a desk, back bent and feverishly scribbling something onto a scroll

you’re in one of his classes with one of the masters, usually sitting in the front and furiously taking notes as they go over the lesson for the day

he walks over to you silent, and you don’t even notice, too absorbed with what you’re trying to learn, and he recognizes it as the homework one of the masters at the Lin Kuei had assigned today

you write feverishly and have no idea he stands right in front of you until Bi Han squints at something you wrote and says that you got it wrong

the chair nearly tips over with how you jump out of your seat, but you place a hand over your chest and let out a wheeze as you say that he had scared you

he scoffs at you ready to give you a quick retort, but then you press him further about what you got wrong, nearly jumping out of your seat and over the table

Bi Han raises an eyebrow at you, wasn’t it obvious?

pointing at where you made the error, he explains that you should’ve done this instead and takes the pencil from your hand and writes it down

your eyes narrow in confusion, and in a meek voice, you ask him to explain why what you had done was wrong

this was stupid, and he didn’t really want to be here right now

stepping back toward the exit of the library, Bi Han tells you it’s self-explanatory and goes to blow off some steam in the gym, but then you grip onto his arm tightly

he has to fight all instincts to flip you onto your back and crush your bones, but you fall to your knees with a loud thump as you continue holding his hand and start to beg for him to teach you

you’re failing this class, and at this rate, you’re pretty sure that master at the Lin Kuei hates you because of how close you are to flunking

you need to pass this class to continue on with your training at the Lin Kuei, so could you please please please teach you

your eyes are wet and sad, and Bi Han feels like he’s looking at a kicked cat that was sitting in the rain all day as your lower lip starts to tremble as you try not to cry

letting out a frustrated breath, Bi Han rolls his eyes and agrees, and you start to thank him profusely

he just picks you up the scruff of your neck and drags you over back to your seat and sits down in the chair and starts to explain to you what you were doing wrong

you’re slow, so much slower than him, and he doesn’t understand why you just don’t get it

his voice grows shorter, snappier, as you get the following problems wrong over and over again, and his patience snaps, hissing at you and asking why you can’t figure this out like everyone else

you flinch backwards, and your voice wobbles as you try to explain that it just didn’t make sense, that you just can’t figure it out

Bi Han sees how tears start to well up in the corner of your eyes, and he realizes how he’s completely distracted you from learning

he takes a deep breath, collecting his mind for a few moments, and mutters out a quick apology to you before going back to the problems

maybe explaining the problem and method in a different way would help you better, and so he formulates a plan, tapping the pencil against the table as he thinks

he writes a few practice problems for you off the top of his head and hopes they make sense, and he walks through them with you

your wipe your tears away and go through them slowly and thoroughly, learning each step and going through the problems quicker and more confident with every solved question

a few hours later, you had finished the homework with flying colors, and Bi Han felt a sense of pride well up in his stomach

was this what it felt like to lead others? perhaps training to become grandmaster wasn’t so bad after all

the sun barely peeks over the horizon,and Bi Han realizes that the both of you have stayed up all night in the library

but you give him a big grin, and you wrap your arms around him tightly, hugging him before scurrying off with your schoolwork back to your quarters to wash up and squeeze in a quick nap

he sits in the library in silence, trying to process the action, and his cheeks heat up as he thinks of how your chest pressed against his

shaking away the thought, Bi Han goes off to his quarters to freshen up and get ready for the day, but he goes through the rest of the day with a smile on his face, thinking of how you had smiled at him

perhaps he would have to continue your late-night tutoring sessions

[lovebvni]

Shifting Timeframe? Pick A Pile

Welcome back to my bi-weekly pick a piles!! I was compelled by spirit to do a timeframe of when you will probably shift. Remember, general reading and YOU have the POWER to change it.

Also I've been seeing 325 a lot  - 3/25 is actually my birthday SOOO if anyone knows what that means please tell me!

Everything comes with a grain of salt, I will also have a shufflemancy going on in the background.

So, take a deep breath in...

Now out...

What emoji is your third eye telling you to pick?

🥚|🍭|🍬|🍶

pile 1 -- egg

A Month and a half, your day to shine.

Cards: Strength reversed, The Tower, Temperance, Knight of Cups

BESTIE OMG UR SO CLOSE TO SHIFTING WTF IM SO PROUD OF YOU, I KNOW ITS BEEN HARD BECAUSE OF THE TOWER CARD BUT I KNOW YOU'RE PUSHING THROUGH! You may feel vulnerable in some way, like you're not good enough? You are! You are the universe, you are the most powerful being EVER!! You should also take a quick 1-2 day break from shifting - this will also help you shifthere will also be someone coming in *possibly a friend, witch, or spiritual person* helping you out on this journey - they might be the one to give that final push.

Possible Personality Traits: Loving, giving, annoying {To yourself}, confident {On the outside}

Shufflemancy :

"Don't be afraid of heights 'cause we flyin'" - Rebels Call Me Karizma

"The time is upon you to show them what you can do and soon they will know that the day has COMEEE" - The Day - From Boku no Hero Academia, NateWantsToBattle

"I'm a little faded" - Slumber Party - Ashnikko

"It's exactly the same, they say 'why do you dress that way?' 'why do you act that way?' 'why aren't you just like me?" - Fire Drill - Melanie Martinez

Phrases, Numbers, Signs and more: 777, 666, Christmas, Bakugou, short tempered, Denki, Shinsou, shy, "You've got a friend in me", "Movie night!!", "Get in loser, we're going to the mall", "So you're obsessed?" Capricorn, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Taurus.

pile 2 -- lollipop

Within the next 48 hours, your dreams will come true.

(2 days to a week, actually)

Cards : 9 of Pentacles reversed, King of Pentacles reversed, 3 of Wands, The Fool reversed

OKAY FIRST OF ALL HOW LONG HAVE YALL BEEN SHIFTING I FEEL LIKE UR JUST A VERY SPIRITUAL PERSON!! But I feel like to get to that point you have to be less dependent on the things outside around you, and more on yourself. YOU'RE the one who can shift, the signs mean NOTHING if you don't take action. Do you abuse your power to shift in one way or another? Like start denying it exists JUST so The Universe will let you shift? Approach shifting like a timid animal in your backyard that's hurt. But yes, you definitely are shifting within the week. Your child-like wonder inspires me btw 

but keep your hopes up, you need more faith and hope that you will shift!

Possible Personality Traits: Softie on the inside, kind of shy?, risk taker, lover of music, goofy

Shufflemancy:

"Stupid boy think that I need him, I go cold like change the seasons, I go red hot like a demon, I go ghost for no damn reason, stupid boy think that I need him, stupid boy think that I need him." - Stupid - Ashinikko

"I'm not your friend, or anything damn, you think that you're the man, I think therefore I am" - Therefore I am - Billie Eilish

"You've got troubles, I've got em too, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you." - You've Got A Friend In Me - Cavetown

"We bark alot" - GOODMORNINGTOKYO! - TOKYO'S REVENGE

"We can fill it up with grass and all the things that make it warm. When you leave to go fly across the sea, I'll be waiting here with Junior and the flowers that we've grown." - Things That Make It Warm - Cavetown

"We might hotwire this old car to drive" - Everything Is Temporary (Sticks and Stones) - Cavetown

"Look like I'm going for a swim" - Chun-Li Nicki Minaj

Phrases, Numbers, Signs and more:  Denki Kaminari, "I'm failing all my classes omg", 444, "Hey, a frown won't get you anywhere - SMILE MORE!", calming music, study sessions, sexually active, dirty-minded, lack of physical affection, "Rough around the edges", Cavetown, Air Signs, any dominant sign tbh, "Have high hopes but low expectation", UA traitor, villian

pile 3 -- candy

44 Days, but It feels like years.

TW: DRUGS, SMOKING, ETC.

Cards : 8 of Pentacles, King of Cups reversed, 6 of Cups, The Hierophant

If you've read any of my other tarot readings you KNOWWW the hierophant makes me feel like I'm being choked, but before you shift you're going to realize something new, something new will come to you I suppose? So it will be a new beginning, then shift, it will probably be a new hobby or a job you like. And, like pile one, you will get good advice from a friend. I know some of you guys are like 'im not attracted to people in this reality' but you might be soon?? it's probably someone you knew in your past life or something. It may just be a friendship though. But the hierophant is just emphasizing what I just said, a good friend is going to give you advice.

Possible Personality Traits: ignored, quiet, lonely, friendly, smart, emotional

Shufflemancy:

"The worlds a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes." - Ilomilo - Billie Eilish

"Maybe I'm too emotional, or maybe you never cared at alllll" - Good 4 U - Olivia Rodrigo

"I don't smoke, I just like how it smells" - Cigaratte Ahegao - Penelope Scott

Phrases, Numbers, Signs and more: Senpai/teacher, "You sure do cry a lot.", "You shouldn't care so much", watching youtube, hbu?, ignorant accidently, 666, 999, 69, st0ner, dr!nking, first time

pile 4 -- drink

Anywhere from to day to the 29th of this month

Cards : Queen of Wands, The Lovers, Judgement, Page of Cups

CLEARLY YOU'RE SHIFTING FOR SOMEONE WITH THE LOVERS CARD COMING OUT I MEAN SAME BESTIE, you don't know when you will shift, and you def look to higher spirits. Try some shadow work - your inner child needs healing. The universe sees you and how much you have bene struggling and working towards this, and it thanks you deeply. Your hard work is going to pay off soon!

Possible Personality Traits: Disappointed often, violent, gay, dramatic ASF, popular, two face, probably on medication, has been hurt physically, emotionally, or some other way

Shufflemancy :

"She moves on pretty BLOODY QUICK" - Your New Boyfriend - Wilber Soot

Literally any MHA song

"Baby hotline, please hold me close to you!" - Baby Hotline - Jack Stauber

"She said you were a hero, you played the part. But you ruined her in a year, don't act like it was hard. And you swear you didn't know,  I wonder why you didn't ask, she was sleeping in your clothes, but now she's got to get to class." - Your Power - Billie Eilish

I hope this pick - a pile resognated! I've been going through a lot this week and I don't know if my accuracy may have failed bc of the stress I'm experiencing but I'm so glad like NOBODY is shifting in a year+( like 2023) bc I know you all work SO HARD to shift.

[lucystark12]

Read your post on your opinions on Byler and why you think it’s a genius love story. I’m curious though you mentioned Mike being gay, rather than Bisexual. I’ve been in the fandom since s1 and never actually thought abt it that way, what’s some evidence that made you see gay Mike instead of bi Mike?? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

up until i got on tumblr a few weeks ago (very new to this business haha) i didn't really have super strong opinions on his sexuality either way. i was kinda just like, okay, mike is queer in some sense of the word, but the more i've read theories and thought about it, i feel it's almost more powerful if he's explicitly gay. this is in no way biphobia- i'm bi- and i don't at all believe that him being bi would discredit the importance of his character being queer in the grand scheme of queer representation, but i do feel like having a character who actively grapples with feelings of inadequacy out of insecurity based in not being able to love his girlfriend the way he thinks he's supposed to and deep seeded disgust and internalized homophobia with himself and his own faults especially when there's just SO MUCH beautiful and real love between straight couples around him- think lumax and jancy- is really intelligent and insightful writing. as far as evidence goes, i think there really is a lot of importance in him not being able to tell el he loves her. yes, you could say that it's just because he flat out doesn't love her, but you could also say that he knows that he doesn't and could never love her in the way he thinks he should should, in the way she deserves. that's why will's real and genuine love confession through the eyes of el makes him think "okay, maybe this could work. she loves me in the way she's supposed to, maybe it's possible". the reason will's words are so fueling for him is because they serve as proof and validation that he isn't doing anything he deems wrong and that there is the same level of beauty and intimacy in their relationship that there is in lumax or jopper or jancy. this leads in to my painting theory and how i think learning the truth about the painting will ultimately be the thing that makes mike face his internal conflicts head on because he will realize that he doesn't and can never have this perfect heterosexual relationship because he isn't heterosexual.

wow i just went on a crazy rant there hello

also- lucas's season one line about mike only liking el because she's the first girl to look at him or something like that is a good one too

[n3ptoonz]

How’d u think earth realm boys would react to their wife telling me there ready for kids 🎤

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react to their wife being ready for kids

warnings/tags: suggestive, fluff, female reader obv

Liu Kang

The way you brought it up was so subtle and casual. It was during his downtime, which was kinda rare. A simple "Hey...I think I'm ready to have children." and Liu is looking at you with surprised eyes and a full heart.

Being the kind of man Liu is, and how busy his life has become since being appointed as a god, this man set an exact date and time where there would be zero distractions. All his focus and effort was on you. And in you (ba dum tss)

So be prepared for a long night of passion, love, lust, and care. Cause you're not leaving that bed until you've gotten every last drop

Doesn't mind the gender. Boy, girl, he would love them just the same. Hell, even if it was more than one child at once, he wouldn't hesitate to give them the world.

Smoke

You mentioned it while you two were cuddled up on the couch. Little did you know how red his face turned until you felt his heart beat increase in real time, looking up at him with his genuine concern.

At first you thought he was nervous or probably didn't want to, and once he saw your slight frown he immediately countered that thought. He was so excited he froze. Endless reassurance from him until you verbally say you got it.

Did you think he wouldn't nervously suggest you start as soon as possible?? Pish posh, you are sad- happily mistaken. "Why not try right now?" he said, except he's stuttering over his own words and sweating profusely. No matter how many times you've been intimate with one another, he's always nervous around you <3

Gender doesn't matter to him either, however he does lean more on the side of a daughter. Simply because he'd die at the sight of a little girl running around the house that looked like you. If you had a son though, he'd be sure he doesn't meet ol uncle Bi Han bro would prob try to recruit

Johnny Cage

What if I told you he brought the idea to you one day as a "joke" and you're immediately like "That's crazy, I was going to say the same thing!"? You both looked at each other with narrowed eyes before making a run for it to the bedroom

Less talk, more action. It's safe to say y'all were up all night, touchin', lovin', going multiple rounds to the point where you forgot the entire reason for heading straight to bed. But hey, who's complaining? Johnny promised to tap that at the earliest opportunity (yes, i went there)

He SWORE that cowgirl and mating press were the "only efficient ways" to make sure you'd definitely get pregnant. As if going raw wasn't enough already-

Daughter. He wants a daughter. Give the man a daughter. He won't shut up about being a girl dad when you aren't even a month in yet. He's practicing dad jokes. Even coming up with ones that are tailored to daughters. Has a CVS receipt list of girl names and the only one you both decided that was perfect is "Cassandra/Cassie" (wink) He CANNOT wait to have another favorite girl in his life to spoil!

Raiden

It was after training. You finished first and watched him complete his, and the idea came to you while he was helping one of the younger recruits. You just laid it on him without warning: "I think we should have kids." and cue him almost spitting out his water. Was he dreaming?!

Another nervous one who blushed and stuttered a bunch upon trying to conjure up a response. The thought of having a child with you has been on his mind for some time now and it's like you read his mind, he just didn't want to overwhelm you.

Speaking of overwhelming, that was all out the window once you got home. Going from a peaceful walk to a heated make out session on a matter of seconds. Not to mention, you both had a longgg day of training and could use a shower...why not save some money on the water bill!

Raiden is too good with all types of kids to really have a preference. Growing up with his little sister AND kung lao gave him experience on both sides

Kung Lao

After your weekly sparring session, you got to thinking. You're already married, you've seen him handle kids and younger people well, and most of all he looks so damn hot when he's sweaty and out of breath. Not an unfamiliar sight to you at all!

It was when you two went to Madam Bo's for a good after-spar meal when you slyly threw it into the conversation. Mid bite, he couldn't help but back up from his food and look at you with that classic smirk he does and his dimples are fully visible (currently dying at this imagery.) And he'd end up saying something cocky but playful like "You think I'd oppose you carrying the next great Kung Lao?"

Got straight to it when you got home. Luckily you had already showered after the session, otherwise the water bill would've been looking like a traditional Chinese scroll after you were done. Prepare for his teasing, flirtatiousness, and pride to be multiplied by a thousand

I feel like he'd want a boy, and we all know why. He's not at all opposed to the idea of having a daughter. But if your first child was a daughter, you're going back to that king sized mattress once you've fully healed and trying again! (who's complaining 🤨)

Kenshi Takahashi

He had come home from a long day of a series of trips and tasks given by Liu Kang. You were in the kitchen brewing some tea late at night just because when you heard him come in. He wasn't exhausted, but you could tell he just wanted to drop everything and spend all his time with you the way he plopped down at the dining table.

When you offered food he politely declined since he had already eaten earlier. But he could sense something else was on your mind by the slight shift in your tone. Being visually impaired, his auditory has improved considerably since. "Is something on your mind?" he asked. "I think we should have kids." you responded, sitting next to him with your cup of tea.

He was at full attention now, whatever tired him from the day vanished just like that. You took his silence as uncertainty, so as you began to start listing the pros and benefits, he quickly cut you off with a "Let's do it." "Seriously?" you said, just to make sure you heard him. He stood and took your hand in his, "I'm very serious. We can start tonight, tomorrow, next week. The sooner the better." (hey, starting tonight didn't sound like a bad idea 😮‍💨)

He says he doesn't really stress the gender, but he'd like a son. Kenshi would adore your child under any circumstance, but being an only child (idk if that's canon but it's gonna be today XD) who practically raised most of his younger cousins who mostly consisted of girls, he gets a little giddy at the thought of having an older son younger daughter dynamic around the house.

Sub Zero

With how busy he is all the time and how even more tense he's become since the rift, it was a little difficult to find a way to get his undivided attention. However, the whole reason he married you is because you don't take any shit. You voiced your opinions and concerns whenever you deemed fit, and it never got in his way. So, you waltzed into his office on a mission.

It was one of the few times he wasn't running around or training his heart out. He just got done talking to Cyrax when you walked in looking as determined as the day you met. He knows you never interrupt him unless it's something terribly important. At a moment's notice, he gestured for Cyrax to leave so you could speak your peace.

"What is it?" he asked. You made sure the door was securely closed behind you before walking over to sit in his lap. He was quite surprised but also would be lying if he claimed he didn't enjoy it. "Let's have kids." you said. He always told you to be blunt with him about anything, and this was no exception. "Alright." he replied, seldom reason to say no, especially to the love of his life.

Bi Han would for sure want a son. He's set on carrying on tradition, even if he did oppose some of his late father's views. If you had a daughter as your first born, like Kung Lao y'all aren't stopping until you had a son. Though, he knows he will have to learn to raise your kids better than how he was raised. He'd rather die than ever neglect or overwork his children. Plus, you wouldn't have any of that anyway.

Scorpion

Despite being busy a lot as the head of his new clan, he always makes time for you. All his down time was yours unless you said otherwise. You were giving fighting advice to a recruit when Kuai approached you, a gentle warm hand on your shoulder. Earlier in the day, you said you wanted to talk in his free time

After excusing yourself and talking to him on the way to his office, you wasted no time laying it on him. "Kuai...I think we're ready for kids." He stops in his tracks and looks directly into your eyes. "...You're sure about this?" he asks softly, taking your hands in his with the most gentle gaze you've ever seen from him. He's been thinking about this for a while now, but didn't know how to bring it up. Your approving nod with a smile set his heart ablaze with happiness.

Because of his busy schedule, like some of the other kombatants with a lot on their plate, there's a set day and time. And once that time comes...it's tiimmeee (mariah carey voice) That night is gonna be filled with romance and deep love for one another.

Kuai wants a boy. He, like Kenshi, wants the older son and younger daughter dynamic, but for no particular reason. He just likes it. His feelings wouldn't change if your first kid was a girl though, the older daughter younger son dynamic would remind him of how his mother treated Tomas when they were kids before she passed.

a/n: as a mf who doesn't even want kids, this was so fun and cute to write omg😭ty anon for the idea! remember y'all my asks are open and i'd be down to do x or 11 if you want! just clarify pls <3

[pinkeoni]

Mike Wheeler and Audience Perception

(Or, Why Does Everybody Hate Mike?)

I want to stress right off the bat that this is not meant to be read as Mike hate AT ALL— this is a pro-Mike post I promise!! It just might take a lot of explaining on my end so bare with me.

I know that the general audience perception of Mike can be incredibly frustrating. Post vol. 2, and hell even during season 3, there's been a large amount of animosity towards Mike, because he isn't acting in accordance with the Mike that everyone fell in love with in seasons 1 and 2.

But here's the thing, the audience is supposed to dislike Mike.

Maybe I should clarify first, I'm not saying that the audience is supposed to dislike Mike FOREVER, but rather the audience is supposed to dislike Mike RIGHT NOW until season 5 airs and clears up a lot of his choices. And even if people do like Mike, which a lot of the smart ones do, then they are at least supposed to dislike his actions. Even the most hardcore Mike fans will admit that he has moments where he messes up, but understand the complex reasonings behind why he makes these mistakes.

I should clarify too that what I mean by "the smart ones" are the ones who see Byler as the likely outcome. Even regardless if you see Mike as gay or bi (I personally see him as gay, but that besides the current point) the only way to explain why Mike has been acting the way that he has is through his sexuality and feelings for Will, otherwise he really is being an asshole for no reason. Mike's true character is purposefully being withheld from the audience, so that they can make the reveal and it can completely recontextualize his character arc. Those that have it figured out (Bylers) are just ahead of where a typical audience member would be.

Let me put it this way:

GA that dislike Mike and MiIeven are watching the show correctly, even if they don't necessarily see Byler as an option yet.

Bylers that love Mike are one step ahead.

MiIevens that hate Mike see all the narrative information correctly, but are denying the truth.

MiIevens that love Mike are willfully changing what the narrative is presenting.

If Mike was truly acting exactly the way he was supposed to, then his actions would be more likable.

I've noticed that a ton of miIevens tend to dislike Mike. Not all, but a good number. They hate him because they believe exactly what they see on the surface level and that he's acting exactly the way he's supposed to. When Mike is ditching his friends and disregarding his interests in season 3, that's just Mike growing into his heterosexual self! Yes it's totally rude and out of character, but Mike is meant to be with El which means that he is doing exactly what he is supposed to do, right?

Is it possible to have this arc without Mike being unlikable? I mean, it’s not impossible, but it would be extremely difficult. The whole point is that Mike has not been acting like himself for the past two seasons, so it’s important to show that when he acts like this it is not a good thing, and this is not only proven through the audience’s perception but also through the characters perception in show. Mike gets called on his bullshit in universe by Will and Dustin! You are supposed to see that what he’s doing is strange!

Let me put it this way, if all of Mike's current actions were liked and supported by not only the audience AND the characters within the story— this would make the reveal that he hasn't been acting truthfully not work.

I’ll use a pretty robust example, let’s consider a character dynamic that, while not romantic, is widely loved by most audience members: Steve and Dustin.

Let’s say that in season 5, it’s revealed that Steve actually hates Dustin and doesn’t like being his friend. Not only would the audience strongly dislike that, but it wouldn’t match any of what was being shown in show. There’s no reason to believe that Steve doesn’t like Dustin, so that reveal would just feel cruel and cheap.

Let’s also say that Mike was actually a perfect boyfriend and friend for the past two seasons. He’s always able to say “I love you” to El. He isn’t possessive of her. He doesn’t ice out his friends (especially Will) just to be with her. He doesn’t try ti be someone he’s not. His actions are loved by the audience and the characters. And THEN it’s revealed that he’s gay and loves Will. Wouldn’t that feel off?

While Bylers may be used to being faced with intense homophobia from certain MiIevens and toxic fandom members, the typical GA member actually isn’t homophobic. Most GA don’t like MiIeven, but they’re indifferent to Byler because they don’t see it as a possibility quite yet because they don’t read into it as closely as we do. It’s not because they are media illiterate, it’s just because they watch the show casually. The general consensus that I actually saw from GA on twitter is that they actually wanted more of Will and Mike and were dissapointed with their lack of attention from the season.

The unfortunate thing about Mike and audience perception is that we have to wait for the payoff. There’s not really anything that can be done about that, it’s just how the television production cookie crumbles. I also don’t think that it’s a bad thing for Mike to have pronounced flaws, if anything it makes his character more interesting and dynamic. Some of my favorite characters in media are ones that are deeply flawed but have a redemption arc. Although, I guess this would be less of a redeption arc and more of a recontextualization arc? Either way, I’m excited for the audience to finally see Mike the way that they’re supposed to.

[mxliv-oftheendless]

How to Set Up Your Actors (Without Really Trying) (Barduil Month Week 1)

Actor AU: In which Thranduil and Bard are costars for a film and Bilbo is, as usual, rather confused on what's happening and very annoyed by everything.

It's Barduil Month! So I thought I'd participate and write some stories for a ship I love! This one was inspired by this Barduil comic drawn by the amazing @corndog-patrol ! Thanks so much for letting me write a story based on the comic! And thank you @bi-widower-dads for setting up this whole event! Hope you guys enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Bilbo’s phone vibrated the moment he sat down at his desk, it should have been a tip off of how the next hour would go. But since Bilbo was a very busy man (Valinor Talent Agency didn’t run itself, after all), who already had quite a lot to do, he elected at first to ignore it. Instead, he focused on opening his calendar and checking to make sure That Meeting was indeed today and he was ready for it. Sure enough, it was there, today at eleven o’clock, so in about twenty minutes.

He sighed and pulled out the drawer containing his emergency stash of headache medicine. He looked at it for a moment, contemplating whether he should be—

His phone vibrated again. He turned it over.

—whether he should be proactive and prepare for a potential headache. Anything was possible, especially when Bilbo didn’t feel awake and caffeinated enough for anything. Which usually ended up being all the time. Maybe he ought to see someone about that.

His phone vibrated yet again. Bilbo huffed and turned to pick up his phone and see what so desperately wanted his attention. What he found was a series of angry text messages from dear cousin Lobelia screaming in a flurry of poor grammar and an excessive use of capital letters. Nope. He was not dealing with that.

There was a series of smart, rapid knocks on the door. “Come on in,” he called as he set his phone down.

The door opened and Thranduil Oropherion swept into his office. Yes, that Thranduil Oropherion—professional stage and film actor, known for his cool professionalism, sharp wit, insightful intelligence, and fashionable dress. And also for his long blond hair that he refused to cut. Thranduil Oropherion also happened have one Bilbo Baggins as his talent agent.

Any lesser man may have been intimidated at the prospect of being the agent of such a high profile and equally high maintenance actor. But Bilbo Baggins was no ordinary man—even if he did often wonder why Thranduil refused to cut his hair when he was usually pretty reasonable about other things.

“Good morning, Bilbo,” Thranduil greeted as he sat down in the chair opposite the desk.

“Morning, Thranduil,” Bilbo returned. “Early as usual, I see.”

“I had to be,” Thranduil sniffed. “Have you seen the traffic this time of day?” He raised a hand to inspect his immaculately done nails. “Couldn’t this meeting have been scheduled at a different time?”

Bilbo sighed. Maybe he should’ve taken the headache medicine after all. “Well, it was the best time for everyone to meet,” he said. “Now, once your costar gets here, we’re going to take an hour or so for you both to get to know each other, then we’re going to the conference room for the Zoom call with the screenwriters to talk about the script—”

“And the director? Where is he in all of this?” Thranduil frowned. “I had hoped he would be here as well. I would like to discuss certain things about the script with him.”

Bilbo turned his phone facedown as it buzzed again. “The director had to call off. He’s meeting with the production company.”

Thranduil’s frown deepened fractionally. “Very well.”

He was sure he would regret asking, but Bilbo still ventured anyway, “What’s wrong with the script?”

“Well first of all, there is a clear lack of vision for the characters. Are my costar and I to be playing one-dimensional stereotypes? There is no buildup or suspense for what is supposed to be a horror plot line, and the horror relies solely on cheap jumpscares rather than any actual fear or dread.”

Now, listen, Bilbo wanted to be more annoyed at these critiques. He was sure any decent screenwriter or director would be. But personally, he just thought to himself that this was why Thranduil was such a professional and well-respected actor—he was knowledgeable not just on how to act but also on all other aspects of a production.

However, he did still think Thranduil was being a bit unfair. “I thought the script was good. Maybe it’s just a bit jarring to you since you haven’t played a protagonist like this one before.” From how Thranduil frowned but didn’t respond, he knew Thranduil knew he had a point. “Which is another reason why it’ll be good to meet with your costar and the screenwriters, since then you can get a better sense of what they want from the part you’re playing. And your costar has done more roles like yours, so he can give you some insight too.”

At the mention of his mysterious costar, Thranduil thankfully dropped the subject of the script. “Where is this costar, anyway?”

“On his way here, most likely.” Maybe that was why his phone kept vibrating, because the costar was calling him. But no, that was his personal phone that was buzzing…

“What is his name… Bard Bowman?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“What has he been in recently?”

“His last film was—hang on, you didn’t look into him at all?”

Thranduil sniffed. “Of course not. I’m a professional.”

From how long they’d known each other, Bilbo knew that meant Thranduil thought that would feel too weird and he didn’t want to seem strange for stalking his costar’s filmography. He went on. “Well, his last film was a part in some fantasy film—”

“You mean you don’t remember?” Thranduil quipped.

Bilbo just gave him a snarky smirk. “Of course not. I’m a professional.” He continued. “And then for the last year and a half he’s been on a break. Wanted to spend more time with his kids, his agent said.”

To his dismay, Thranduil’s frown appeared again. “His agent is from Dale Talent, isn’t he? Didn’t they come out of the complete cesspool of corruption that was Laketown Talent?”

Bilbo couldn’t help wincing at the name, and his phone buzzed again as if in agreement. That whole scandal had not been pretty. “They did. But Dale’s model is ethical, they pay their taxes on time, and none of their staff have evasion, public disturbance, or harassment charges. Plus their tea was pretty good.” He glanced at the clock. Five more minutes until eleven. “Right, he’ll probably be here soon. Be nice, alright?”

Thranduil gave him an indignant look. “I am always nice, Bilbo.”

“Not backhanded, passive-aggressive nice. Really nice. And that goes for when you’re meeting with the screenwriters, too.”

Honestly, sometimes he wondered if that scowl was just permanently attached to Thranduil’s face. “That will depend on what they have to say about their barely-passable-quality script.”

Bilbo could feel a headache coming on. Today was not the day to put up with all of this. “Thranduil, as your agent—” He decided to appeal to the actor’s more reasonable side. “—as your friend—I am really begging you to behave.”

Thankfully, it worked; Thranduil’s scowl softened marginally even as he scoffed and crossed his legs. “Please, Bilbo. I am an absolute joy to work with.”

Bilbo leveled him with a withering look. He amended himself. “Yes, I will be polite.”

Bilbo’s phone vibrated again as he sighed and nodded gratefully. “Good.” His phone buzzed again (what was going on?) but he ignored it and checked his agenda. “Now, he’ll be here any minute. So make sure to introduce yourself and find something you both can talk about. You’ll both be needing good chemistry anyway—”

“Why would we need good chemistry?”

Oops. He shouldn’t have said that. Bilbo maintained his cool as his phone buzzed again. “There’s going to be some romance—”

Thranduil’s eyes flashed. “The script did not call for a romance, Bilbo,” he said tensely, the sort of tense calm one would find in a very, very small eye of a hurricane.

Bilbo, however, was not intimidated. “Some things were reworked. You two are going to have a romance plot line. Did you not get the revised script?”

“No!” Thranduil leapt to his feet and paced angrily. “Unbelievable!” he ranted. “What is that hack director thinking, doing such a last minute change? Are we film students in graduate school? Is that what this is?” Bilbo’s phone vibrated again. “And where is that constant buzzing coming from?!”

“It’s my phone,” Bilbo grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m not the one who made the changes—”

“Obviously not, because you know better!” Thranduil whirled around on him in a mess of fury and blond hair. “A last minute change like this is unacceptable! Call that director! We need to discuss—”

Bilbo was seconds away from faceplanting on his desk, when there was a knock on his office door. “‘Scuse me?” someone called from outside.

Bilbo checked his wall clock. Eleven o’clock. He shot Thranduil a glare clearly meaning “Behave,” before saying aloud, “Yes? Come in.”

The door opened, and Bilbo’s headache throbbed a bit more when Bard Bowman politely entered the room. Just great. “Good morning,” Bard said politely. “Are you Mr. Baggins?”

Bilbo tried to arrange his face into a look that didn’t suggest he was one more inconvenience away from throwing something and nodded. “I am, yes.”

Bard’s face split into a grin. “Great!” He came over with an extended hand. “I’m Bard. Glad to finally meet you.”

In spite of the day, Bilbo returned the smile as he shook Bard’s hand. At least Bard’s friendly reputation was true. “And you. You’re right on time.” He turned to Thranduil, hoping at the very least that Thranduil still didn’t look like he’d nearly thrown a diva tantrum a second ago. “Thranduil, your co-star, Bard Bowman.”

To his surprise, Thranduil looked far from angry—he was staring at Bard with an almost… awestruck look on his face. The look reminded Bilbo of the look his nephew Frodo would get when he was staring at the anime characters he thought were especially hot.

Bard, on the other hand, didn’t seem to realize that was Thranduil’s look. He just smiled even wider and happily went to offer a handshake to Thranduil. “I can’t tell you how great it is to be working with you,” he said eagerly. “Your work is just amazing. Really, it’s an honor.”

And then Thranduil did the most unexpected thing: he smiled. And not just any smile, but the charming one he saved for interviews and red carpet reporters. “Please,” he replied, taking Bard’s hand, “the pleasure is mine.”

Really, if Bilbo didn’t have such a headache, he probably would have been flabbergasted by Thranduil’s rapid change of attitude. But as it was, the most he could give was a raised eyebrow. “So, Thranduil, do you still want to talk to—”

“No.”

“Alright then.” One less thing to do, at least. Although he probably would be having a word with the director about letting people know about last minute changes. But he could worry about that later, when he had gotten some coffee and ibuprofen tablets. “Well, how about we get started with—”

His phone vibrated yet again, and this time, it didn’t stop. Bilbo sighed in frustration. “Hold on.” He picked up his phone and looked to see who was calling. It wasn’t a number he remembered saving in his phone… But when he looked at the area code, he suddenly remembered when Drogo told him he’d put Bilbo down as one of Frodo’s emergency contacts at his middle school just in case.

He held up a finger to Bard and Thranduil and left his office to answer the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Uncle Bilbo.”

What the— “Frodo?” Why was his eleven-year-old nephew calling from his school's phone?

“Can you pick me up from school? Mum and Dad are both at work.”

Was that what all the texting had been about? “Why do you need to be picked up? What happened?”

“I, uh… got into a fight with Lotho…”

“YOU WHAT—” Bilbo glanced at his office door and lowered his voice. “You what?!”

“It wasn’t my fault! He was bullying Tom Cotton and—”

Bilbo’s headache throbbed and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Actually, Frodo, don’t. Explain it when I get there.” He checked his watch and calculated how long it would take to pick up Frodo and come back. Yes, he could manage it. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do not do anything until I get there.”

“Thanks, Uncle Bilbo!”

“You’re welcome. Be there soon.”

Bilbo hung up and rubbed his forehead, then went back into his office. Bard and Thranduil had sat down on Bilbo’s couch, talking about something, with Thranduil sitting far closer than Bilbo had expected. “Excuse me,” he said.

The two actors looked up at him. “Everything all right?” Bard asked.

God, he wished. “Sorry about this, but my nephew called and I need to pick him up from school. His parents are both at work.”

Thranduil smirked, and Bilbo had no doubt he was wondering what Frodo, who was usually such a well-behaved child, had done to be sent home from school. He could not let Frodo tell him; Thranduil would probably buy him ice cream. Bard on the other hand nodded in understanding. “I understand. I can reschedule, if you like. My kids are in school too, so I’m pretty open most days.”

“Actually, it won’t take long, about twenty minutes, maybe, so why don’t you both get something to eat?”

Thranduil smoothly interjected. “I think that’s a fantastic idea,” he said, giving that charming smile to Bard again (and did Bard shift and smile a little back, or was that Bilbo’s headache muddling things?). “Have you been to the cafe downstairs? They serve excellent coffee.”

Bard smiled at him. “No, can’t say I have.”

“Well, that just will not do. We can eat and,” he smiled coyly, “get acquainted while Bilbo fetches his nephew.”

“Well, that sounds perfect.”

Bilbo wondered if he was supposed to feel like a third wheel right now. “Right, well,” he awkwardly went over to his desk to grab his keys. “Good. You two, get to know each other, and I’ll be back soon.”

As he left the two to… whatever was starting to happen between them… he looked at his phone again to see what all the vibrating earlier had been about. It turned to have been several more very angry text messages from dear cousin Lobelia, ranting and raving at him about how Drogo and Primula were raising a violent, wild child and he needed to stage an intervention so that Frodo wouldn’t attack her dear, sweet Lotho ever again. Ah, so that was what all that was. Frodo must have won that fight against Lotho.

Bilbo sighed and rubbed his forehead. He wasn’t sure what just happened or what he had just done for Thranduil and Bard back there in his office, but either way, he still had a feeling Thranduil would get Frodo ice cream for something today.

[mushiver]

How can you be Bi/Trans and Christian?

Good question! Also a personal one, so it's hard to tell without a story. If you stick around to read, I appreciate it. I'm gonna be vulnerable on this dinky little tumblr page

I was raised a Christian and always believed. I'd say it "clicked" the most when I was 13, and that's when I committed. I've lost faith at times, but for the most part, it's always been the foundation of my life. I think about God before I make decisions, I rely on Him when I'm anxious, and I thank Him for everything. I'm very much summarizing it, but I have a good relationship with God. The more seeds I have planted in my faith, the better my life is, and the more loving I am to others

I heard about gay people when I was eight, and my first thought was "why didn't I think of that?" Like... of course people of the same gender can have romantic feelings. There's tons of variations in nature and humanity, and that made sense to me. I also thought it was ultra rare, so for the next several years, when I saw gay couples or lgbtq things online, I was looking from a distance, like I related so hard because of my isolating gender experience, but I thought no way it could be me out of millions. I was weirdly focused on the odds.

Similarly, when I found out about trans people at 12, I was like "of COURSE they exist" and I was blown away that people could transition. I related hard, even if I thought it would never be a possibility for me.

First, finding out I was bi. Even though I was blatantly attracted to guys and girls, I swept it under the rug with things like "but anyone would-" "but I wouldn't date-" "it's just admiration" until I was 14. I had a real crush then, and I fell super hard for one of my friends I met at church (he's now out as trans, but either way, we were the same gender at the time and are now), and that's when it hit me that it wasn't some fluke or me "wanting to be a part of the community" (even though the reason I did in the first place was because I felt ostracized because of the way I felt about gender)

I was down bad for this guy, and it was hard to tell what he thought of me because he was affectionate with everyone. But I thought I had a sliver of a chance, so I had a freakout and questioned my sexuality.

Throughout the years, I've heard Christians be homophobic, and I've heard people say it's a sin, but I never understood it. I never felt it in my heart. I didn't know gay people, but I wasn't kept out of that sphere, so I knew they had real, loving relationships, and it wasn't all about a party drugs and sex lifestyle. Can gay people live that way? Yes. Is it the majority? Not even close. Unhealthy behavior is what churches usually cling to, and they condemn the whole community by it. Similarly, people point at churches like Westbro and condemn all Christians. I'm sure you've all seen the vitriol back and forth, and queer Christians are in the line of fire on both sides. Community and support is beyond helpful because of that

Again, my faith comes first. I couldn't accept being bi if God couldn't, so I did a lot of research. On the anti-lgbtq side, I heard the Bible verses. They seemed to condemn it, but never spoke about love between two people. I'll come back to this. Mostly, the anti side used their own arguments, like "look at these people, they get aids" and "your identity should only be in christ."

The pro-lgbtq side took a deep dive into scripture. I was used to hearing "it's on the page, the Bible is clear" when TONS of scripture cannot be taken at face value. That's why theologians study the true meaning AND its use in modern, post resurrection life. It's hermeneutics. And the fact is, the word "homosexual" was added in the Bible in the 40s, before our modern understanding of it. References to homosexuality were references to the "lover-beloved" relationships between slaves and slaveholders, or teacher and student. "Effeminates" were catamites. Homosexuality wasn't a concept in the first century, but pederasty was, and the Bible condemns it. There's a long, rich history of the 6 verses about homosexuality, and it's too short for a tumblr post, but there's the Reformation Project to check out, CenterPeace, Torn by Justin Lee, God and the Gay Christian by Matthew Vines, and Walking the Bridgeless Canyon by Kathy Baldock.

Not only is there a lot of evidence (made in faith by people who want to determine God's will), there's tons of queer Christians living happily. It's not a double life. It's not holding onto sin. It's not holding onto a toxic religion. If you hate being lgbtq, something inseparable from yourself, then you're going to hate yourself. So many lgbtq Christians live in shame because they think it's their only choice. Conversion therapy doesn't work. Straight people can be straight and have their identity rooted in christ, but gay people are told they can't do that

Because I prayed about it for so long and did the research, I believed that being bi and Christian were not at odds. If you're a Christian, you probably know the feeling of being spiritually guided. I came out to a few people, including my parents, and they didn't accept it, but they tolerated it and didn't forbid me from dating if I got the chance (I didn't lol. Still have never dated and I'm 19). But even though I struggled with shame from their judgement, I was grateful they didn't ostracize me

Gonna fast track this because it's getting long, but being trans was the back-of-my-mind thing I ignored. I ALWAYS felt it somewhere. Since I was three, I sometimes imagined growing up a man. Any chance to prove I was manly, I did. I also hid it out of fear, so I was often hyperfeminine in appearance while masculine in behavior. It's all subjective, I know, but the point is that being masculine grounded me. That's what made me feel like myself. But I also wanted to be seen. It's frustrating when you're so uncomfortable in your body and being feminized, and you can't even look the way you want to because your family is the cops you don't want to make suspicious and the church is prison. It shouldn't BE the prison. It wasn't always that way. It's still a haven for lots of queer people, but I didn't want to be condemned for something that I couldn't change and didn't cause. I felt like there was a boy brain inside me, but it was my job and duty to play a girl

Once again, at 14, it came into question. It was my most social year (being homeschooled) so dysphoria was the worst it had been. I wanted to be seen as a guy. It took months of questioning and debating, but I cut my hair. Everyone was surprisingly cool with it, so over the years, I phased out my clothes and accepted my masculinity.

Every once in a while, I'd privately question my gender, think about my name, and pray like my life was in danger (from the anxiety) but I ultimately stopped when a family member got suspicious. This went on repeat for a year. Before I tuned 16, I was absolutely sure. I couldn't keep doubting it, and I needed to come out so I wasn't dealing with it alone. But again, some Christians are so hostile towards trans people, and I went down a rabbit hole that pulled on my anxiety and despair. It wasn't wrong in my heart, I wasn't furthering myself from God spiritually, but shame took over my own convictions. I spent the next year in deep denial and punished myself every time I thought about being trans. I grew out my hair, bought new clothes, and forced myself to wear makeup. I almost lost my life, and my arms and legs were covered in scars

That was the furthest I'd been from my faith. I carried my own cross with a "I'm doing this for you" mentality when it was never something God asked me to do. In a way, it was cowardly. I listened to the world, my shame, and my parents, and threw away what I knew to be the truth because standing for it made me too anxious. I did that for a long time, and I lost some months of my life. I can't physically remember them. It was a traumatic experience, so they're blocked out

When I couldn't take it anymore, I prayed after my silence and said "guide me." I took it slow, and stopped denying and pushing away thoughts about my future and my identity. I grounded myself and came back to my faith and started researching deeper into theology.

When I was sure of myself, I came out to my parents at 17. At the time, they took it as well as they could. They didn't shun me, and they started using the name I chose. It's been hard throughout the years, and they're not on good terms with it still, but I trust God to take it where it needs to go. I deal with a lot of grief with my parents, but I can't cower and hide what I believe in anymore. It effects more than just me

Now I've done years of praying, theological research, writing a 45,000 word essay, meeting queer Christians, reading the whole Bible, and having a relationship with God, and I'm at peace with myself. It took my whole life to get there, but I fight the shame that's placed on me with my faith. I rely on God. It's important that I distinguish myself as both a Christian and queer because there's still millions of people who are scared and suicidal because they've been told they have to get rid of it to love Him. When they can't get rid of it, they assume they're not enough, so they either lose faith or hate themselves

It's just a little detail in my bio, but that's how I'm both. I want queer Christians, or anyone really, to see me and know that I am this way, and my life is still whole. That's the long story short. If you're reading this and you're also a queer Christian, you're not alone and there's tons of people of faith fighting for us :)

I don't know anything about anon, but hopefully this answered your question

[buddiebeginz]

I wanted to bring up something I haven't seen anyone else talk about recently and that's the fact that Oliver and Ryan are two (presumably) straight actors who are playing two characters who will likely come out as queer soon. The reason I bring this up is because in the past I've seen people hate on straight actors who play queer roles. Saying that lgbtq roles should always go to lgbtq actors and that it's not right for straight actors to play those parts. As someone who is bisexual I strongly disagree with this. While I absolutely think we need more queer rep both on an off screen I think roles should always go to whoever is best for the part. I don't want to live in a world where actors are required to disclose their sexuality before they can't even go up for a part. Plus this kind of thinking also gives people on social media motivation to attack actors who haven't disclosed their sexuality (if you know the show Heartstopper you likely know what I'm talking about).

Like I get that a lot of the discourse around this kind of stuff comes from a good place. From people just wanting to make sure that our stories are being told correctly and with care and also wanting to see people who truly understand those stories play those parts. And also to see queer actors get opportunities they often don't get because even our stories get told by straight actors sometimes.

Still as an older millennial I've been watching queer media for years and years. Some of the best lgbtq media I've watched had straight actors playing gay roles. Queer as Folk is one of my all time favs. Most of the cast were straight but the show runners/writers were gay so the stories never felt disingenuous. I also never felt like the cast was just playing a part for a paycheck. They always felt like they were trying to tell these stories with as much care as possible, in fact it feels like they cared about their time on that show in some ways even more than a lot of their other roles.

I can't imagine anyone else playing Buck or Eddie besides Oliver and Ryan. They are what make Buddie so captivating and the biggest reason why we are all so invested. Chemistry like theirs is like lightning in a bottle it doesn't come along on every show and it wouldn't be there if they didn't care about the stories they were telling.

I know that most of the Buddie fandom wouldn't hate on Oliver and Ryan but I just needed to rant about this because I'm sure I'll see people bring this up at some point on twitter when this storyline starts to unfold. I just wish people would realize that an actor doesn't have to live an experience to tell it well that's what the job is. And you can tell when Oliver in particular talks about the show how much it matters to him that he tells Buck's story with authenticity even more so now that Buck is likely to be coming out.

As someone who is bi I can't tell you how important it will be if when that happens. Having a character like Buck who is a little older and fits into a lot of the heteronormative stereotypes come out will be huge and I know Oliver is the best person to tell this story.

Same with Ryan and Eddie. Even more so in some ways because if we do get a coming out story with Eddie we'll get to see an older Latino man figuring out his sexuality and having to deal with all of the cultural and familial pressures than could bring. Queer rep respecially for characters of color isn't something we get a lot of in mainstream media but even less for a character like Eddie and if it happens it will be incredibly important. Ryan has already proved how much he cares when telling Eddie's story especially with things like his ptsd and being a veteran so I know he'll put the same love into a coming out story for Eddie.

[a-random-whovian7]

*Doctor Who Spoilers*

So the 60th Anniversary specials have just finished and, for the most part, they were pretty good. David Tennant was as good as ever, the villains felt far more threatening than in recent years and Wild Blue Yonder was pretty close to perfect imo. But something has been lurking in the back of my mind since the final scene of The Giggle. Something that just hasn't let me enjoy the specials as much as I could

My problem is they fucked up 10's arc.

Now, as a person who absolutely loves the 10th Doctor’s era and story arc, 14 felt like a complete smack in the face. 10 was the most human Doctor, and his story is a brilliant deconstruction of who the Doctor is. Yes, he always tried to do good, but his hubris, vanity and selfishness led to his downfall, all of which was spearheaded by him losing Rose, driving Martha away, having to wipe Donna's memory and in the end having to sacrifice himself for Wilf. Was it tragic and sad? Yes. But not everything needs a happy ending. The fact that 10's mistakes came back to bite him was one of the many reasons why I loved that era so much, as whilst he was redeemed by sacrificing himself, his regeneration still held such an emotional impact due to the fact that he'd lost so much and had fallen from grace. It was sad, but it worked. It had weight because it was permanent. It was a unique arc in Doctor Who that should have been left alone.

But then 14 and the specials came along and kind of undid that. Turns out Donna was fine, she just needed to let the Metacrisis go. Turns out all 10 really needed was a holiday. Now he's had a happy ending, just relaxing whilst 15 goes and does all the hard work. Plus, it now means we have an excuse to call back David Tennant whenever we like (look, I love David Tennant and hold nothing against him, it's more the fact that Doctor Who has been blatantly using him as a crutch since 2019). The bi-regeneration also kind of robbed 14 of accepting death and allowing Ncuti to immediately take centre stage. 10's arc just feels cheapened in hindsight, as the weight of his actions isn't really reflected in him getting an "everything was right again" ending.

Of course, it's not all bad, and I'm probably just being incredibly picky. People seem to be really happy that 10 had a happy ending, and I wish I could fully enjoy that too. If we absolutely had to have this ending, then this is the best possible way to have it, it could have been done far more lazily. After all, not everything needs to be depressing and serious. Plus, I did like the specials overall and the fact that David Tennant managed to add more emotional weight to the Flux arc and play a far more experienced and mature Doctor. RTD screamed trans rights, mocked modern Internet culture and gave us the creepiest episode in years, all of which is absolutely fantastic. I just wish that RTD hadn't added more onto 10's arc and tied up the loose ends that didn't need tying up.

[bi-widower-dads]

bi-widower-dads' February Fic Recs: Canon

Thank you to everyone who submitted recs for us! We've done some sorting and collating, and we've got two posts for you: AUs and Canon-'verse - and a whole load of excellent fic for you to get stuck into while we wait for Barduil Month in April! Without further ado, here are the canon fic recs, featuring tags, links, summaries, and all the reasons why the recommenders think you should give these fics a try!

Header image by mod @piyo-13!

(a note about tags and trigger warnings: tags are selected from those on AO3 as being those that best describe the story for the purposes of this event; trigger warnings are supplied by the recommenders and may not be comprehensive - your mileage may vary. We've tried our best to include Tumblr handles wherever we can, but if we've missed yours out and you want it included, just let us know!)

One-shots

Scenes From a Not-So-Clandestine Romance by MasterofAllImagination / @cutlerbeckettt | G | 3258 words | tags: 5+1 things, so much fluff it's sickening, seriously don't even read this

Summary: As the relationship between Bard and Thranduil grows beyond merely that of two allies, they become proportionately blind to how obvious their displays of affection are to their people. Pretty soon their feelings are an open secret shared among everyone in Mirkwood and Dale-- except the kings themselves. (or, five times someone caught Bard and Thranduil secretly kissing, and the one time they did it in public) What do you love about this fic? The author's completely correct that this is just So Much Fluff. It's great, it's cozy, it's a palate cleanser that makes you go "aww" and giggle a little at how oblivious they are.

We'll lay here for years or for hours by bispecimen | M | 5000 words | tags: canon divergence, different first meeting, animal death, hunting, could be considered canon compliant since it still works w future events, dilf vs dilf parenting techniques, canon-typical violence

Summary: "The leaves were rolling, green and healthy. Swirling around the legs of the Bowman as if they were about to bring some magical creature in his presence. But Bard didn’t feel like anything good was about to be brought in front of his eyes. The stillness of the air was suffused with something nocive. This part was forbidden for a reason. The deeper he went, the longer he stayed. He knew, he knew that." What do you love about this fic? Am possibly biased because I did the art for this, but lovely and lyrical!

but the sun is eclipsed by the moon by RC_McLachlan | G | 5288 words | tags: none

Summary: The Battle of the Five Armies threatened to unmake the world, but The Negotiations of the Three Kings might actually succeed. Or, a short lesson on the lifecycle of dandelions. What do you love about this fic? Great writer I've followed for a long time!

more than words can wield the matter by BiSquared / @scary-grace | M | 5422 words | tags: cultural differences, love letters, miscommunication, accidental marriage, getting together, laws and customs of the eldar are somewhat followed, POV Bard the Bowman, post-BotFA, as canon-compliant as barduil gets

Summary: It might be uncommon, but Bard knows it’s not unheard of for humans to share a single night of passion and part ways in the morning – or if not to part ways, then at least never to meet as lovers again. Apparently it’s unheard of among elves, because the first letter that arrives from Mirkwood, two weeks after the elves’ departure for their forest, is significantly less businesslike than expected. What do you love about this fic? The premise is funny enough that it could have come across as crack, but it creates actual narrative tension and a satisfactorily cathartic ending.

The Well-Worn Path of Words by Ias | T | 10,725 words | tags: letters, slow burn, pining, miscommunication, love confessions, epistolary

Summary: It wasn't so strange that Thranduil would call him a friend. And yet the word seemed to draw them closer like a length of string, binding them together, yet still so fragile. [In which Thranduil and Bard begin writing each other letters over the long winter after the battle.] What do you love about this fic? Fantastic epistolary fic from a great Barduil author!

Multi-chapter (in progress)

Language of the Forest by BaccaratBlack | T | 1,095 words | tags: victorian flower language, sort of unrequited feelings, cultural differences, cultural misunderstandings, courtship, secret admirer

Summary: Bard is perplexed by elven courtship rituals. Thranduil is very determined and unaccustomed to not having his way. What do you love about this fic? Who doesn't like a fic with the themes of courtship, flowers and a "secret" admirer?

Multi-chapter (complete)

A Tale of Love and Longing (as told by Galion) by jotunblood | T | 39,288 words | tags: courtship, secret relationship, developing relationship, sexual tension, light angst, post-BotFA, slow burn, Galion POV, Galion is a good friend

Summary: Galion knew all the almost imperceptible ways joy, anguish, and hate could change his King’s face. He also knew-- Thranduil’s denial be damned-- exactly how he looked when he was pining. What do you love about this fic? We see Thranduil's and Bard's relationship develop through Galion's POV and he's the best BFF/Wing Man a King could ask for.

Blossoming Spring by SlytherinImpala | T | 56,210 words | tags: fluff, post-BotFA, snark, slow burn, healing, friends to lovers, scars, movie canon, first kiss, getting together

Summary: Bard and Thranduil meet again as winter gives way to spring following of the Battle of Five Armies. What do you love about this fic? I love the gentle snarkiness between the 2 characters and how they slowly learn to open up to one another. They feel very in character and when they fall in love it doesn't feel abrupt. Definitely worth a read if you love a gentle Barduil slowburn.

Series

The Kings of the North by Evandar | T | 14,240 words | tags: partial fix-it, interspecies romance, fluff, blind thranduil, self-esteem issues, communication

Summary: There is unease in the north, as old alliances must be rebuilt and leadership learned. Bard is confused, mostly by King Thranduil, and King Fili is determined to be the best king he can be. Sigrid, meanwhile, wishes things could go back to the way they were. What do you love about this fic? This was one of the first series I ever read for barduil and definitely played a huge role in getting me into the ship in the first place!

Boundaries 'Verse by Sir_Nemo | T | 30,967 words | tags: fluff, getting to know each other, getting together, family bonding

Summary: Bard has been working for the elves for years, never actually meeting one, until one day he notices an elf watching him work. The elf becomes a constant in his life, and the two of them slowly start warming up to each other. What do you love about this fic? Bard and Thranduil's personalities really shine through in their conversations, which I feel is a core component of the plot, and makes for a very stable relationship that the story can lean on.

[seatrisa]

Four head cannons.

For some reason, I've been wanting to talk about some of my head cannons for Four.

Firstly, I usually think of him as 4 people even though JoJo said he isn't.

For ages. I go back and forth from picturing him as 21 (a full adult despite his height) or 16 (as is closer to what JoJo said he is. I like both to be honest. He usually seems very mature (save for the last update Lol) and put together, which leads me to think of him as older. Plus, I can picture him as a well respected Blacksmith better when he is older. At the same time, it can be fun to have a young master and it's not like I'm opposed to him being younger.

Game order and how that effects him: I picture that four went on 3 adventures: MC, FS and FSA. After FS, he was knighted even though he was probably like 14. He had already saved Hyrule twice and felt that he was more skilled than the other knights (he was right about a good number if we're being honest). He was the cocky and rude kid that you see in the comics. But when he went on FSA at 15, he learned humility and how to work as a team once more.

Each time, he used the four sword, his personality split more until he was almost 4 people in a single body. He hasn't shared that information with most people in his Hyrule.

Occupations: At the time of LU. I see Four having two jobs. I think he acts as both a knight and a blacksmith. Most are very confused on how he manages to have 2 full time jobs. (though his family and Zelda know the truth) They usually send 1 off to act a knight, while the others help their Grandpa at the forge. I think they take turns, but I picture Green going slightly more than the others. I think after FSA, he decided he missed blacksmithing and that's why he has two jobs.

In the future, I picture, they eventually open up to the community that they are 4 different people and they get their own jobs. I think that Green would be a knight and only does blacksmithing as a hobby. I picture that Blue sticks mostly to Blacksmithing, though he may be a little like a knight in reserve. He will step up when issues come up. Vio would become a scholar/librarian and possibly a wizard. He's a nerd, I think he would enjoy devoting his life to learning.

I'm not so confident about Red. Right now, I picture him becoming a toy maker. I know it's random, but I like it.

Next Shipping. I picture Four as poly, kinda. I picture that each part of him will find a partner and eventually go off to live their own lives.

I really like Green and Zelda. I just think they are so cute together. I know it's not a popular ship for him, but I love it and I always ship them. In the future, I picture they would have 1 maybe 2 kids, mostly to get an heir. They still love them, but that was the main goal.

Then there's Vio and Shadow. Not my favorite ship, but I don't think it's a bad one at all. They can be kinda cute at times. Plus, it's so popular, I'm willing to accept it. (even though I don't accept other equally popular ships) I think either Vio and Shadow eventually reunited or he stayed single and honored Shadow's memory. I don't usually picture them having kids. But I could see them adopting an orphan or Vio taking on an apprentice and taking a father role towards them.

I usually ship Red with Erline from the comic because I love her. I think both of them are adorable and deserve each other. In the future, I picture them having lots of kids, as in 5+. I don't know. I see Red being a really good Father and Husband.

Now Blue. Blue is harder.

Sometimes I wonder if he should also be gay to make Four as a whole more equally Bi. The problem is I don't know of a character in his games that would fit and I don't have any inspiration for a OC. Let me know if you know a good one.

Other times I ship him with Malon (there's a Malon in both MC and FSA) because I like the idea of Four being the father to everyone because of all his relationship. Other times I ship him with Iris because I think her character is hilarious and I think Link (any of them) is cute with a little witch girl.

Occasionally, I let him just be single but not often.

I don't know. Blue is hard. Because his relationship is so up in the air, I don't have opinions on if he would have kids in the future.

That's basically it. I don't know how many will actually see this but, it was still fun to write.

[friendly-books]

Dresden files Fool's Moon live blog

Fool’s Moon 

Ugh male gaze already

You’ve never mentioned Kim Delaney in your fic so I don’t have high hopes in her survival especially when she’s looking into summoning or binding circle

Sometime apprentice? Eh? How does one become a sometime apprentice

Harry drives a Beetle but he’s so tall and a beetle is so small ha

I’m absolutely blaming you for my love of Marcone and how unreasonably happy I got at the mere mention of his name in chapter two I might have a problem 

“He was one of Johnny Marcone bodyguards” pg. 18 Geez Marcone’s men can’t catch a break. First Tommy Tomm, then “Gimpy” Lawrence, and now “Spike” 

Ahh!! What was that agent Benn thinking? Pulling out her gun?!? I know Harry and Murph were going to live but still. I’m horrified by this lack of gun control 

Murph and Harry are fighting:(

I like Harry being a detective 

Who’s Justin? Why did Harry burn him to death? I’m reserving my decision if Justin is good or bad because while Harry is a good guy Bob doesn't have a moral compass.

Who’s Elaine? What happened to her?

Alphas really that’s the name they chose?

Susan you’re back!

Harry’s talking to himself again 

“What could possibly go wrong?” pg. 102 Harry sweetie you didn’t just say that. I can’t believe what I just read. Harry, you should know better than to say that. Every time someone says that things will always go wrong you’re supposed to be genre savvy. 

How is Harry still alive? He went to a hideout of possible murder happy werewolves with minimal tools and or weapons and no backup?

Marcone has arrived yay! It only took 10 chapters 

“Ah Mr. Dresden” pg. 114 Why did I think of Verinari when Marcone said Ah Mr. Dresden? Maybe because Verinari says Ah Vimes 

I love chapter 10 it’s all Marcone and Harry

Why does a demon know Harry’s mom?

“What was left of Kim Delaney lay naked and sublime on the bloodstained floor a few feet from the circle” pg. 143 I didn’t want to be right :(

“Middle-aged, starkly handsome man” pg. 145 Bi Harry counter 3

Why does a demon know Harry’s mother?

“Good-looking detective” pg. 231 Bi Harry 4 counter 

Wait did Harry call Rudolph the person who kills Murph good-looking??? What did I just read?? WHAT?!? 

It’s cool that Harry fights a werewolf 

I’ve now met ID Harry weird that whole bit was weird 

The FBI was in on it?!? 

Marcone to the rescue! 

“A man in his mature prime, his hair immaculately graying at the temples, his custom-made suit displaying a body kept fit in spite of the advancing years” pg. 293 Bi Harry 5

Really Marcone, you're really trying to get Harry to sign a contract now? 

“Marcone looked good in his gray suit and perfect hair and his manicured hands, but he wasn’t” pg. 295 Bi Harry 6

I find it amusing that Marcone and Parker are fighting over Harry for different reasons but fighting over him nonetheless :)

“He won’t accept my offer. He’d rather die.” pg. 297 Marcone knows Harry

“Marcone’s mouth dropped open, and it was an intense pleasure to see the surprise on his face” pg. 297 I love that Harry can get a reaction out of Marcone 

Loving chapter 23 with all its Marconeness 

How old are the characters? Harry calls the alphas kids, Billy calls Harry Mr. Dresden, and Harry talks about Marcone’s gray hair. I’m picturing Harry and Marcone as a mesh of @drawsdenfiles and @kaphkas fanart.

We got a title drop 

Awww Susan got Harry his duster

Why is Marcone’s house so big? Why does he need a big house? 

“If he truly offered you a challenge, he’s here,” Marcone said, his tone completely confident, “I’m certain of it.” pg. 365 Marcone really knows Harry huh 

I like that Marcone’s never underestimated Harry 

“Please remember that I want Dresden, alive if possible.” pg. 375 Wow Marcone really wants to hire Harry. 

Nooo the FBI kidnapped Murph :(

What did Denton see in Harry’s soulgaze? 

Marcone to the rescue again or not, honestly Marcone you should listen to Harry more often

“I guess it could be worse” pg. 394 Why would you say that Murph? Why???

“Mr. Dresden, Marcone said crossly. I’ve asked you not to call me that.” pg. 398 You should let Harry call you John, Marcone 

I love Harry and Marcone’s banter

Marcone’s throwing knives bit was cool

Harry using the belt was interesting. Glad Susan calmed him down. 

“Dresden! The pit!” pg. 417 Nice of Marcone to warn Harry

Harry using his necklace is cool! 

No Murph trust Harry, why did you shoot him?

Yay Murph was shooting Denton 

“Of course,” Marcone said, with a note of disappointment in his voice “I’d just hoped you hadn’t realized it. Nonetheless, Harry-“ 

“Don’t call me Harry,” I said, and hung up on him” pg. 428 I love this entire bit. How come Harry gets to call Marcone John but when Marcone calls Harry by his first name he gets upset? You should just call each other by your first names 

I hope we see more of the Alphas 

Oh Harry’s making connections with the ongoing mystery yay! 

Final thoughts 

Loved all the Marcone we got. I like that we’re getting more on the ongoing mystery. I hope we see more of the Alphas. I liked the fights and Harry’s detective work. More Bi Harry the counter is going up! We’re up to 6. As with the previous book, I'm not a big fan of the male gaze but I think that’s more to do with the length and descriptions used. Harry (or Jim) will go on for a solid paragraph describing women using words I don’t think anyone would use while with Bi Harry it’s not as long and I can see people using words like good looking or handsome. I mostly glazed over the male gaze bits. I don’t know if my predisposition to Bi Harry and a Harry/Marcone shipper is making those parts stand out or if it’s because I’m actively looking for them to add to the counter. Speaking of Marcone I don’t recall if it’s said why Marcone wants Harry to work for him. Yeah having a wizard on staff is cool he can do magic but surely Marcone knows that there’s more magic people and some are more likely to work for him than Harry. So why does he specifically want Harry to work for him? He tried to get him to work for him three times in this book and once in the previous book. There’s trying to hire someone and then there’s whatever this is. I enjoyed this book. Good book for Harry/Marcone moments. Looking forward to the next book!

[denimbex1986]

"It feels different this time," said David Tennant's Fourteenth Doctor as his skin turned regeneration luminescent in 'The Giggle'. Asking his two former companions to pull at his arms like he had been hoisted up onto a makeshift rack, out popped Ncuti Gatwa's head like a handsome Hydra.

So goes the first ever bi-generation, a duplicating version of the well-worn regeneration, which we were told has always been something of Time Lord myth. Maybe the chief reason the Whoniverse only just introduced the concept of bi-generation is that trying to render it on the pre-Disney budget would have been a tougher feat.

Yet what it inadvertently does is leave open the door to David Tennant coming back for a third helping as the Doctor, thus putting Gatwa in the curious and unique position of being the first ever 'pretty much but not exclusively The Doctor' Doctor.

While fans could now be left clamouring for Tennant to come back, after the rip-roaring ride of these three 60th anniversary specials, we've not had any indication he's lacing up his Converses for good.

Yet the possibility that he one day could rev up his duplicate TARDIS and whizz back onto our screens leaves Tennant slightly hovering over the Fifteenth Doctor's shoulder.

It poses the question of whether Gatwa, who is the first Black and openly queer man to play the Time Lord, should have been left to go forth as the one and only Doctor in his own right.

While it's a legitimate issue to raise, the scenes afforded by the bi-generation between Gatwa and Tennant are ingenious because they build a deliberate bridge between this new era and one of the most successful periods of the show's modern incarnation.

Giving Gatwa such a solid jumping-off point with, arguably, the most popular modern Doctor of the lot feels even more significant given that he's coming into proceedings in the wake of a rather fallow period.

After the TARDIS skirted off into the ether in 'Wild Blue Yonder', the Doctor delivered a monologue on the majesty of his blue box. He painted a picture for imposter Donna of a civilisation's ebb and flow around the TARDIS and how it could live on through it all.

The moment appeared to be a metaphor for Doctor Who as a whole and the similar wax and wane of reverence for the show. Russell T Davies has said how unpopular a move it was to reboot the sci-fi classic in 2005 and he's now been parachuted back in to juice up the BBC staple.

Seeing Gatwa and Tennant interact together in the final act of 'The Giggle' allowed for a more concrete passing of the baton, which the instant body-swap of classic regenerations never really have.

It was also then we learned another nugget of lore to give Ncuti's Fifteenth Doctor some primacy over Tennant's Fourteenth, as Donna tells him he's the "older", and implicitly wiser, Time Lord of the two. Even in their brief scenes together, the Fifteenth Doctor has a calm assurance in the face of the Fourteenth's wobbles.

While the bi-generation might seem like a diminishing of Gatwa's role as the Doctor when viewed in its simplest terms, now that we've finally seen him in the role, it's impossible to think of him as anything less than the Doctor. He's so cooly comfortable – even on a helipad in his underpants – that it doesn't seem his star can be dimmed by the existence of other Doctors out there somewhere.

Ultimately, this major change of the bi-generation is why there is a 60th anniversary to be had in the first place – because Doctor Who is not a show that's against reinventing itself and changing the rules to keep us guessing.'

[sanfangirl-cynicalromantic]

The Lady Knight | Chapter 2

Chapter 1 | Read on AO3

At long last, I came to the very obvious decision to continue. Thank you so much for all those who enjoyed the story and didn't hesitate to me know ❤️ Chapter 2 and all the oncoming chapters would not be possible without you!

So, as the poll dictated, I am sharing chapter 2 now!

Tagging @macheriemila, @borrassofi, @bi-bi-want-dragon, @triumphantfury, and @katergator84 (you said I could!) If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, don't be afraid to reach out!

~~~

“I should - go,” Astrid heard herself say. So many things were happening and she wanted to retreat to her tent so she could silently scream into the hard pillow issued along with the cot she slept on.

“But - but what about your shoulder?” Hiccup asked. She blinked, and the cut on her shoulder throbbed with the reminder. She had forgotten about that, the whole reason she was sitting here.

“I can take care of it myself,” she assured her friend. “I was going to anyway.”

“Why didn’t you?” asked Hiccup. “I mean, you could've taken care of it a lot sooner without me. . .” he trailed off. “Right, stupid question.”

“I don’t know, she answered, mostly to herself. She crawled out of the tent and nearly ran to her own. She cleaned the shallow cut - it probably didn’t even need to be bandaged, but she did just in case.

The next morning she wrapped a handkerchief around her nose to block out the smell and went to report to Gobber for cleaning out chamber pots or shoveling excrement. The work was welcome, and she found her mind concentrating on the task at hand instead of wandering off to think about complicated things. At an hour past noon Gobber sent her off for some grub.

She found Hiccup sitting on the outskirts of the group, no one willing to sit near him due to the stench. She plopped down beside him with an inelegant sigh.

“How’s your shoulder?” he inquired. Astrid pulled down her handkerchief and took a bite of grub, eyes fluttering shut in appreciation of the lukewarm sludge warming her body.

“It’s fine, she told him. “It was shallow; I didn’t even have to bandage it.”

“But you did,” Hiccup checked. She let out a good natured huff.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course I did.” She turned her attention back to the rations. Hiccup finished his before her.

“Can I ask you something?” he broke the comfortable silence, keeping his gaze fixed on the empty tin plate on his lap.

“Sure,” agreed Astrid warily. She had honestly just fallen in her old patterns with Hiccup, forgetting he knew about her being a her. She took another bite of food to occupy herself.

“Why?”

Ah. Astrid didn’t know how to answer that. She chased the now-cold food around her plate, the utensil grating on their ears.

“You know females can’t inherit?” she asked after a while.

Hiccup blinked, as if surprised she’d even answered him. “Yeah I knew that . . . ooooh .”

“I just-” her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “My parents . . . especially Mother, they were worried. And I knew I’d have to marry like my sister to reassure them, but I don’t want to!” Her voice had begun to rise. She cleared her throat embarrassedly and continued. “So I figured I’d give them an heir who could inherit, because I was always the best at fighting and dealing with the land.” She felt stupid. Just because everyone thought Lord Hofferson had a son didn’t actually mean he did . Would inheriting even be valid?

“That’s messed up,” Hiccup said contemplatively, breaking through her spiral of thoughts.

“Tell me about it,” she muttered.

They sat quietly a little longer, enjoying the reprieve before they were to be sent to work again. The infantry finished their meals and stood to head off to their stations on the battlefield. Hiccup watched them go pensively. He had no taste for death.

“Do you ever think it’s curious how we’ve been supposedly winning this war for nearly a decade, and yet are no closer to victory?” he asked suddenly. Astrid looked ahead contemplatively.

“A war takes time to win, does it not?” she answered thoughtfully.

“But is it winning if we’re making no progress?” Hiccup pressed. Astrid frowned.

“How is it no progress?” she argued. “We’ve been pressing Bludvist’s armies away from Berk and gaining land. Even if we weren't, we are wearing down his fighters, are we not?”

“True,” he nodded. “But also our own. If we’re at a stalemate, we’re still losing soldiers.” Astrid’s face cleared as she realized what Hiccup was getting at.

“The King wouldn’t just send people to die while he thought on his next move,” she said stoutly. “Our fighters know what they are sacrificing, and are doing it happily. Besides, the enemy is sustaining far more casualties than us.”

“I just wish there was a way to end this without more killing,” Hiccup sighed.

“You could always try the diplomatic approach once we’ve graduated into true knights,” she suggested. He opened his mouth to reply, but Gobber called them over for their next shift before he could speak.

A month after that, Gobber assigned them to a knight to work as the traditional squires.

“I ken we dun’ away wi’ tha’ program,” he acknowledged, “but ye need at least a wee bit of experience before we can call on ye. The war is not neer as bad as it was a few years ago, so ye’ll get to be on the battlefield but not in too much danger.” Hiccup nudged Astrid pointedly, who ignored him in favor of listening to Gobber’s next instructions.

He told them who each would be working for and took them to meet the knights they would serve for the next couple months.

Astrid was assigned to a knight called Sir Eret, a young man only about five years older than her. He was broad shouldered with long, dark black hair, twinkling amber eyes, and an easy smile, and a very skilled fighter. He spoke with a slight accent, and had a large chin. Astrid knew they would become friends very quickly. She was relieved she liked who she would be serving for the next bit of her training, unlike poor Hiccup, who had been assigned to Sir Dagur DeRange, who was a similar age to Eret, but not nearly as amicable.

Eret became the older brother she had never met but always wanted. He was who she’d want to be for her sisters. He was from up north, and sometimes demonstrated their slightly different attack style from up there. His clan was rather new among Berk’s court, Sir Eret being only the third generation serving the Haddock kings.

Eret had been the last squire to pass the knight initiation test before the practice had been done away with. His father had been the knight he trained under, and had been very hard on him, but it ensured that he passed his initiations with flying colors, while other noble sons had only been able to scrape through due to their parent’s coddling.

“I won’t be too hard on you,” he assured her, “but I won’t go easy on you either. You look like the next great fighter of Berk, but you’ll waste away if you take things easy.” Astrid straightened under his praise.

“I won’t slack,” she promised.

She learned how to pack a knight’s things in the proper manner, and how to help strap armor onto Eret. She was supposed to make sure his armor and weapons were taken proper care of and polished. Eret helped her with such tasks at the end of the day, but she knew that most other knights just left their equipment to their squires while they collapsed onto their cot. She was grateful for Eret's decency.

She met a few more knights her father hadn’t known. They weren’t in the same social circle Father usually conversed with. There was Sir Thuggery and Sir Magnus and Sir Sven, the son of Lord Svenson. They were friendly enough, but clearly didn’t hold squires in the same regard Eret did, and she didn’t find herself getting close with any of them. She didn’t see Hiccup as much anymore, as Sir Dagur and Eret apparently had some slight hostility. Eret would never admit why and Hiccup wouldn’t tell what could have been the reason. She didn’t press too hard, because whatever had happened was between Dagur and Eret; it wasn’t her place to pry, and Hiccup never seemed too happy to hear her talk about Eret.

“You know, his fighting techniques are a little different from what we’ve learned, and he’s offered to teach me,” Astrid disclosed. “Do you want to join?”

Hiccup’s mouth was tight at the corners. “You sure I wouldn’t be intruding?” he asked, a hint of something sharp in his voice. Astrid frowned. He had developed a habit of getting short with her rather quickly lately, but Astrid supposed it could only be expected when having to work with Dagur’s volatile tempers, and they rarely found time to catch up except after the day was done late at night, so he was probably constantly tired.

“You wouldn’t,” she assured him. “Really, I think Eret would like you. I have to follow him around every day anyway; it’d be nice to have someone else put up with him,” she said fondly.

“Astrid,” he sighed. She blinked as she caught her breath. That was a thing now. He seemed to be on a mission to use her actual name as much as possible whenever they were alone, with no consideration for her lungs. “Why are you set on me joining you? Don’t you - don’t you want to spend time with Eret?”

She was confused. Why wouldn’t she want Hiccup to join them? “I want to spend time with you,” she told her friend. “And I think we’d both enjoy - what are you - what are you trying to say?” Why was he being this obstinate? Her confusion was turning into anger and she didn’t want to be angry with Hiccup, dammit.

Hiccup blew out a breath. “I, I just - want to know what your relationship with Eret is,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“Why? He’s, we - we’re friends. He’s a friend,” Astrid replied slowly, like one of them was being dumb but she wasn’t sure who it was.

“So what am I?” Hiccup asked quietly. That was a dangerous question. She hesitated.

“My best friend,” she answered. “I can have more than one friend, can’t I?” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t like he could say no. 

“No! I mean, of course you can that’s not what I’m saying-”

“What are you saying?”

“Do you-” a look of bewildered realization crossed his face. “You don’t - you don’t like him as more than a friend?”

Astrid’s jaw dropped in shock. “ What?!” she exclaimed. Hiccup’s mouth formed an ‘O.’

“You’re not - you two aren’t like that?” he questioned.

“ No. Ew. Why would you think that? He’s like a brother to me.”

“I don’t know,” he retorted defensively. “It’s just - you were constantly talking about him I figured . . . girls I knew could never stop talking about their sweethearts so, um-”

“It was never like that. And did those girls decide to become a knight instead of being a lady? I don’t think your idea of what a girl is fits me.” Would you prefer it if it did? Why did the thought make her feel hurt? “No. He’s just - honestly that would never happen,” she shook her head in bewildered irritation.

“Really?” he smiled slightly. “I don’t know - I’m sorry for being weird.”

“Yeah. It’s - this was weird.”

“You’re right, you’re not like anyone else I’ve ever known,” Astrid felt a spark of giddy happiness ignite in her chest and tried to internally tamp it down. “-and just cause I’ve seen ladies fall for handsome Eret before doesn’t mean you would, too-” She blinked, his words processing before an evil grin spread across her face.

“Were you jealous?” Astrid teased. He blushed.

“What? Me? Jea-”

“You were ,” she clapped her hands together and cackled.

“All right, yeah yeah-”

“Aww.”

Hiccup grabbed her face gently to shut her up. Her cheeks squished together. His hands were always so warm, especially on her face, and that was the only reason her cheeks felt hot. She tried to blow out that little spark in her chest, but it only fanned it into a small flame. “I’m new to the whole friend thing,” he rolled his eyes good humouredly. “I’ve only ever had you and Gobber. I guess I don’t want to lose you somehow when you have someone a lot more competent to keep company.”

“Hey,” Astrid squeezed his hand. Their eyes locked on joined hands. She cleared her throat. “You’ll always be the first friend I made,” she said sincerely. “Besides, don’t underestimate yourself: you’re plenty competent and interesting.” He ducked his head and his cheeks warmed.

“I know how you can make it up to me,” she decided.

“What?”

“You have to join me with Eret now. Besides, we were kinda banned from sparring one on one since, y’know,” She wiggled her shoulder, a silvery line sloping along her right shoulder underneath her tunic. The scar wasn’t noticeable; she could wear an off-shoulder dress and no one would be able to tell she had once had that shoulder sliced. She noticed it herself occasionally because she knew it was there, and Hiccup would because he had been there too, but no one else would unless they ran their finger along her shoulder, and there was no possibility of anyone getting close enough to her to touch her intimately there. “I’ll bet you’re rusty,” she taunted.

“C’mon!”

.oOo.

“So, what do the initiation tests usually consist of?” Astrid asked. She was sitting cross legged on the ground. Eret was standing from his practice spar with Hiccup, who was wheezing on the ground. Astrid wasn’t worried about him though; she could tell he was just being overdramatic. Eret cocked his head, considering.

“They usually start after the jousting tournament in the summer,” he told them. “After the first week, squires can become knights and participate in the second week. They wouldn’t if they knew what was good for them,” he snorted. “Many a new knight have started out bankrupt due to fancying themselves better than the seasoned knights in a bid for glory.”

Hiccup sat up and rested his arms on his knees. “When was your first joust?” he asked curiously. He had taken to Eret rather quickly after he joined Eret’s training. Astrid was rather pleased to see her two friends getting along together.

“Three years ago,” Eret replied, voice soft with nostalgia. “Won the first round, and then lost the next two.” Astrid winced while Eret laughed. “It’s what I deserved for trying to challenge my father and uncle. I was eventually able to earn my kit and my horse back, but they never let me forget it. Just because I was family didn’t mean they went any easier on me.” He shook his head to clear it. “But that’s not what you asked, Astor.”

Astrid blinked in startled confusion for a second. She normally went by ‘Hofferson’ with Gobber and her peers, and Hiccup called her Astrid when no one was around, so it took a little adjustment to answer to ‘Astor.’ She mentally scolded herself and made a note to ask Hiccup to start calling her Astor as well.

“Well, they try to change initiations around, but they follow the basics. For one, you’ll probably have your own mock joust,” Eret was saying.

“Oh no,” the prince cringed.. “I’m no good at jousting.” Eret threw him a reassuring smile

“We barely practice with a lance at all, but you’re certainly the best rider,” Astrid said matter-of-factly.

“To tell the truth, jousting is only useful for duels and tournaments, not battles,” he shrugged. “Your instructor, Gobber, seems to care more for practicality than pomp. But the best trick is to stay in your saddle, and practice the back strength to hold a lance straight.”

“Back strength?” Hiccup asked. “Not your arms?”

“Your arms are connected to your back, are they not?” Eret replied, deadpan. A snort escaped Astrid and Hiccup sent her a glare of mock-betrayal.

“Sometimes they have to fight someone like a real joust, either an actual knight or one of your peers. A few times they just have you ride along the tilt and test your aim. Hiccup gulped. Astrid scooted over to him and patted his shoulder.

“You’re stronger than you know; I’m sure you’ll pass easily,” she heartened him.

“Well that makes one of us,” he muttered, but shot her a grateful look that went straight to her chest, warming it as the chilly wind blew against her.

“If they continue with the mock joust with contestants, they usually make the entire initiation a contest between all the squires. Of course, if you haven’t fallen off your horse or after three runs, the next day you’ll fight hand to hand and they’ll test your weapons handling that way,” Eret continued. He paused and took in the nervousness on his friends' faces.

“I wouldn’t worry; you guys will be fine.”

.oOo.

Define fine , Astrid thought sarcastically, remembering Eret’s encouraging words. She was peering through the tent flap, colorful crests and peasant children running around, lords greeting each other or arguing, the blinding sun beating down upon the scene. She heard Hiccup’s shaky breaths behind her and turned around, exchanging anxious grins.

“I brought us some water,” he gestured at a tray with a jug of water and a tin cup. She nodded in gratitude.

“You nervous?” she asked him as she filled her tin cup. She knew he was, just as she knew he knew she was, hence the meaningless smalltalk.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I mean, I know I shouldn’t. We’ve been practicing ever since we got back.” Three months ago they had returned from the battlefield, grimy and hardened, glad to be free from tending to their assigned knights. But no sooner had they shed their armor Astrid had leapt into preparations and their midnight training sessions and free time had become vigorous jousting training.

“Hey,” scolded Astrid gently, handing him the refilled tin of water. “It’s normal to be nervous; you’d be stupid not to be. But I know you’ll be able to do this. We both will. Honestly I'm more nervous about the improbable possibility of someone recognizing me.”

“You’re not recognizable,” Hiccup assured her. She decided to play with him and arched her brow.

“Really?” she asked, pretending to be offended. She saw Hiccup straighten and rub the back of his head as she stuck her nose up in the air and tried to look at him threateningly.

“I - I uh, not like, you’re forgettable ‘cause you’re not, of course.”

“So you think I will be recognized?”

“No! No, how could you be, I mean you’ve changed so much since when you were fifteen.”

“I was attending summer parties last year.”

“Oh. Uh, well, y’know I’m sure you’ve changed plenty this year too.” Astrid said nothing. His eyes widened as he had just realized something.

“F-For the better! I - I’m sure all the-”

“Hiccup, stop,” she giggled. “I’m messing with you.”

“Messing with me - what! Why?” She giggled again at the affronted expression on his face while Hiccup’s expression morphed into fondness.

“Feeling better?” he asked and set the cup back on the tray.

“Are you?” He nodded. “Yeah.” They stood there quietly for a minute, enjoying the silent companionship.

Somehow they were closer than they had been a second ago. She gazed into his fiery emerald orbs and was mesmerized. He took a breath, and she watched the rise and fall of his chest, the part of his lips as he blew the air out. She blinked and leaned closer before catching herself and dragging her eyes back to his, just in time to see him pull his own gaze up from hers. He took a healthy step back and licked his lips.

A trumpet blew and they heard the herald begin his announcements.

“Oh! I uh, I should really get back to my tent,” Hiccup flailed.

“Yeah, you should go,” Astrid agreed. “Umm, careful out there. And good luck.”

“Good luck to you too,” he wished her, and then he was gone.

.oOo.

She flicked an imaginary speck of dust off the hard embroidered leather chestplate, bearing the Hofferson family crest: two battle axes criss crossed in front of a Nadder’s crown of spikes. She checked to make sure her shoulder pads were securely fastened again and took deep breaths as she waited for Gobber to lead her outside.

A few minutes later Gobber poked his head into the tent.

“Ye ready, lad?” he asked kindly. Astrid whipped her head around to face him and nodded jerkily. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Ye’ll do great,” Gobber clapped her on the back, and she absorbed the impact without falter. She squared her shoulders and walked steadily to the line of young men waiting to prove themselves ready for battle.

Berk was different from other kingdoms. Squires could become a knight between ages eighteen to twenty one, so if any of Astrid’s peers managed to fail the initiation tests, they would have second chances. All the people could watch the squires on this day. The king and his queen sat on a raised dais, an advisor and some attendants accompanying them. Nobility occupied the upper seats so as to better see the contestants, but some, mainly young ladies, sat on the seats right next to the edge in hopes of catching a soon-to-be-knight’s eye.

This year the squire’s tests were a small series. First, they would practice jousting, running against the quintain three times, and then they would be tested with their long range missiles, like Eret had predicted. All of them must display an average ability to shoot, or use of another long-range weapon. These tests would take place before noon. Then, after noon they would fight against noble volunteers to test their fighting ability. The king would then bless them upon his dias in front of everyone. Then she would be a knight. She would have honor and a livelihood to use to support her family when they needed it. 

The squires stood in an alphabetical line according to surname. Ackson was first, then the Prince Haddock and her, Hofferson. She took her place beside her friend and he greeted her with a glance from the corner of his eye, his face continuing to face forward. She dipped her head to return the greeting and stood straight and tall as Ingerman took his place on her left.

The air was stifling and hot, the sun a ruthless hunter pursuing entrance into her eyes, forcing her to squint. The sounds of the crowd faded away and crashed down upon her ears with an even greater force. A dribble of sweat began to bead on her hairline, but she refused to pay it any attention. She wanted to shut her eyes and block out the nervous fear beginning to coil like a smug poisonous snake in her belly. Her hand flexed at her side, straining against her will to reach for Hiccup’s hand, to ground herself in the comfortable familiarity of his own sweaty palms. She exhaled shortly, scolding herself for even daring to think such a thing. Anyone could spot her treacherous fingers seeking solace in the Prince and that would just complicate things. Such wants were dangerous, and she couldn’t afford them.

She didn’t notice Hiccup’s own hand twitch toward hers before it was dragged back to grip his leg.

The Herald called Ackson’s name and the burly youth stepped forward hesitantly. Astrid watched avidly as the young man was directed, tested on his ability to follow directions. She watched his form and listened closely to the remarks and criticism and praise he received. He wasn’t that good at the riding part, but made up for it with force.

Then the Crown Prince stepped forward to complete his initiation. She nudged him and caught his gaze before nodding resolutely, a reaffirmation of good luck from her. His mouth stretched like it was trying to accomplish a smile but couldn’t quite manage, and strode into the ring. Astrid bit her lip as she watched, concern for him flooding her throat - or maybe she couldn’t breathe because she was holding her breath.

She knew he was worried the kingdom wouldn’t accept him, too stuck on his earlier year’s failures, but she knew better. She watched the tall young man deftly assemble his horse and swing himself into the saddle, Toothless standing obediently and tossing his head majestically as a page scurried forward to hand the Prince a lance. How could anyone be blind to the compassionate budding warrior in front of them? He thanked the page and steadied his lance, the heavy wooden weapon ending in iron not shaking even a little bit. She hoped his hands weren’t sweaty.

His form was impeccable and the speed and force he reached with Toothless made the onlookers gasp in admiration as the lance thudded securely into the middle of the target. The quintain swung around fast, and everyone sat up in anticipation, no one daring to call out a warning. The sandbag swung with gusto, seemingly faster than ever but Hiccup and Toothless avoided it and made it to the end of the tilt. The second and third try were no less perfect, and he dropped the remains of his lance into the arms of the waiting page - the lance had shattered on his third round as he gracefully descended. 

Lords turned to their neighbor to talk animatedly, and Astrid allowed a smile to break through at the sight of the kingdom being as taken with their prince as she was. The King nodded approvingly at Hiccup, and though his face was concealed Astrid could picture the beaming smile he was surely wearing. Mothers examined him appraisingly, calculating all the benefits a son in law like him would reap, and the young ladies sat up straighter as he rode past, some simpering and batting their eyelashes, others staring outright without breaking eye contact in an attempt to catch his attention. Astrid’s hackles raised.

He doesn’t like those kinds of girls , Astrid chanted in her head. He wouldn’t give them the time of day .

Oh, and who would he prefer? A silly girl pretending to be a boy with short hair and rough tunics? A treacherous voice whispered back. She clenched her jaw, pride gone, and as she stepped up as her name was called, she charged toward the target with ferocious single-mindedness.

She didn’t even remember what happened after she inevitably completed the task with flying colors. The long range missiles went equally well, her and Hiccup being the most accurate, of course. She inclined her head toward her parents and the one sister who had come to watch her before finding herself back in her tent and collapsing on the cot. She didn’t care about food; that could wait.

Gustav, a page in his last year, entered the tent with a tray laden with food and cold water, as Astrid came to some time later.

“Haddock told me to bring you this,” he announced. Astrid opened her mouth and closed it again at the thoughtful gesture.

“Thank you,” she said, touched. “And - tell him thank you too.”

“When I become a squire, he says I can wait on him,” Gustav proudly proclaimed. She raised her eyebrow. Poor Hiccup. Gustav would be far better suited to Jorgenson, who would soak up the attention Gustav lavished on his idols.

“Is that so?” she asked absently, waving him out of the tent so she could enjoy the food in peace. God, cold chicken had never tasted this good. She gobbled the meal down as the bell began to clang, announcing the next round for the graduating squires. Astrid cursed and hastily wiped her fingers on her tunic - oh, if Mother could see her now. Thank Thor Hiccup had sent Gustav or she might have entirely slept through the test! She fastened her armor on and grabbed her ax along with a sword before practically running toward the dirt arena, praying her tardiness wouldn’t be noted.

She wove her way through the crowd who quickly parted as they recognized her time to squeeze herself between Hiccup and Ingerman. The Prince was standing stiffly but noticeably relaxed when he spied her. She shot him a grateful smile and then turned forward as the herald announced the names and clans of the squires present.

“Gustav said you were asleep,” her friend whispered out the side of his mouth.

“I was. Thanks for the food, by the way. I might have never woken up if you hadn’t sent it.”

“Figured you’d be hungry since I didn’t see you at lunch. I would have gone myself, but Dad insisted on formally introducing me to everyone .” Astrid stifled a snicker too late. He shot her an annoyed look.

“He’s proud of you,” she nudged him.

Thorston was called up first, for the squires were being called up in reverse alphabetical order. Ingerman whimpered nervously beside her. On the other side of Hiccup, Ackson gave an exasperated huff.

“While I’ll agree his Proud-of-Me look is a nice change from his Disappointed-in-Me face, it is extremely unnerving,” Hiccup snarked. Astrid smiled dryly.

“You’ll get over it.”

“Will you two be quiet!” Ackson hissed. Hiccup opened his mouth to snap back some sarcastic comment but Astrid elbowed him viciously and all that came out was a soft oof. He shot her an irritated look of betrayal and she rolled her eyes at him expressively; Ackson wasn’t worth starting a fight with ever, especially not here.

Gobber had taught all his pupils well, and she could sense his satisfaction radiating off him next to the King as he watched all the young men fight avidly. Clearly the new program had been a success. Even all the boys who Astrid had rolled her eyes at their incompetence did surprisingly well. Thorston was still crazy, but was able to direct his craziness at the targets with impressive precision. Jorgenson, for once, wasn’t slacking off and displayed surprising agility as he fought against Sir Bucket and held his own against the older man. Even Ingerman who had been whimpering next to her the whole time stepped up and the normally gentle teen displayed his dramatic strength and even managed to disarm his own opponent.

And then it was her turn. She was going up against some Sir Magnus - she forgot which surname he had. She walked into the pit, the thin layer of sand scuffing under her meticulously polished boots. She had a sturdy dirk at her hip and her trusty ax strapped to her back. She kept her body loose but alert as she studied the opponent walking towards her. Sir Magnus was heavyset, with clunky iron armor on instead of the lighter leather she had. She marked the best targets: under the arms, the cracks where the breastplate ended.

She unstrapped the ax from her back and held it in front of her in a defensive position, the heavy weight of the weapon familiar and comforting in her hands. She kept her breathing even as she watched Sir Magnus ready himself across from her.

“Ready?” the herald called. Astrid gave a curt nod, baring her teeth in a smile. The horn carved into an elaborate bronze dragon was blasted shortly and the two fighters began to circle each other. Astrid matched his footwork carefully as she studied Sir Magnus, looking for a point of weakness to get past his guard. Gobber always instructed her to never attack first when facing a new opponent, so she waited for his patience to break first.

He stepped forward and Astrid, anticipating his strike, blocked it before he had even completed the movement. The crowd murmured in appreciation and Sir Magnus drew back, assessing her with calculating eyes.

She waited for him to strike a second time and blocked it before launching her own attack. He was stronger and heavier and bigger than her but she was quick and her hits were painful and effective. Sir Magnus unleashed his full force and landed a blow, causing her to stumble back to catch her breath. (The Prince started forward impulsively before reigning himself in to stand ramrod straight as he watched his friend, but Astrid was too preoccupied to notice.)

She grit her teeth against her temper. There was no shame in losing to an older, more experienced knight. But Astrid was the best in her class; she wanted to be exceptional. She wanted to be a warrior so great that even when her identity was found out, her heroics could not be disputed. She saw her opponent getting ready to strike again, and just as he raised his sword to prepare an attack Astrid lunged forward at the right moment - although her timing was only half skill and the other half luck - and hooked her ax around the blade by the hilt, tugging it out of his hands and off to the side. Distantly, she was aware of the crowd around her cheering or clapping, but she paid it no mind. The fight was not over yet.

Just because Sir Magnus was currently weaponless did not mean he wasn’t still a threat. Astrid had the upper hand, but wasn’t going to let her guard down one bit.

Her adversary charged her and swung at her. She opted to duck instead of trying to chop off his arm, after all, he wasn’t a true enemy. It was a feint. He pivoted on one foot as his leg swept around to knock her off her feet. She threw her ax out of the way so it wouldn’t land on her and locked her legs around his to bring him down with her. They tumbled onto the ground with a thump . She flung the heavy body off of her and practically leapt onto his chest, pinning him down with her weight. She reached for her dirk and unsheathed part of her blade, pressing the sharp naked steel to Sir Magnus’ neck.

“Yield,” she ordered in her deepest voice.

“I yield,” the knight rasped. She exhaled in relief and stood carefully before offering her hand to the older man. The crowd was roaring its approval and she turned to see Hiccup pumping his fist delightedly in the air, a toothy grin on his beautiful face. Her heart pounded in her ears as she made her way out the pit to accept her parents’ congratulations and her sister’s embrace.

“You must be exhausted, my boy,” Mother insisted. “Why, we didn’t even see you at luncheon.”

Astrid opened her mouth to protest, feebly trying to explain how she wished to watch Hiccup pass his own initiation but her youngest sister, Cami, the most vivacious and unruly thirteen year old Astrid had ever known, including herself, announced how hungry she was as well and Father placed a hand on each of his daughter’s shoulders and led them to the Hofferson chambers. Astrid cast a glance behind her, but made no more protests. She could always see her friend at the official knighting ceremony before the ball being held in their favor that night.

.oOo.

As it turned out, the actual knighting ceremony was a quiet, intimate affair mainly limited to her family (Mother, Father, Cami) and the King and Queen. The Crown Prince was nowhere to be seen, so after Astrid finished dressing for the ball early she set off to find her friend.

She found him twisting and turning in front of a full length mirror, attempting to tie his cravat. He heard her soft laugh and turn around, his face brightening. It fell as he took in her own impeccably tied cravat.

“Tell me you had trouble with that too,” he grumbled pleadingly, gesturing at her neck.

“Oh yeah, it took me forever,” Astrid said brightly. Hiccup scowled at her and shook his head.

“So I got it on my first try,” she admitted, fighting against the mirth in her tone. “But I didn’t like the way it looked, so this is actually my second attempt.”

“I’m on my eighth.” His shoulders sagged. Astrid gently turned his shoulders to face her and slid her hands down his neck to his collar.

“Father can’t tie his own cravats either,” she disclosed, focusing on her hands as they worked the expensive cloth. “Mother always ties them for him. Maybe it’s a woman thing.”

His chest rose and fell under her hands as he took a deep breath. She lingered at the white lacy neckline, unwilling to move away and not daring to tilt her face up to look him in the eye.

“I’ll bet all the other knights won’t even be wearing one of these hanged things,” he groused. “Fashions change, you know, so I’ll be stuffy and dated looking.” Astrid rolled her eyes. He looked the very opposite of stuffy and dated. He looked rather appealing, not that she'd tell him that, with his shaggy hair brushed back, his russet and gold brocade vest tight along his broadened shoulders and those damned black breeches over his hose, not too tight to be scandalous, but trimmed in a rather flattering way that made Astrid rather hope she’d be standing next to him for most of the night so as not to be tempted to look. He had not yet donned his wine red waistcoat, but she knew intuitively that it would be tailored to his lean frame, accentuating the contrast between the manly width of his shoulders before tapering down to his slim waist.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, realizing she was supposed to say something. “You look . . . really nice.” Her stormy blue eyes flicked up to meet his forest green ones. Lighting crackled as their gazes collided. She refused to blush as neither one looked away.

“You um, You look great too,” he told her, his hand rising to take hers, his thumb caressing her knuckles. Her lips parted of their own accord as she sucked in a breath. “ Sir Hofferson,” his smile turned roguish.

She saw the opportunity to retreat to safe, familiar ground and took it. “ Sir Hiccup,” she teased, pulling her hand reluctantly from his. “We should probably arrive at the ball. It wouldn’t do to shirk our knightly duties mere hours after being blessed.”

He didn’t move, continuing to stare intensely at her, as if searching for an answer to a  question she hadn’t heard. She took the moment to study his face, all of it, the angles and expressions, imprinting it in her mind and memory.

“You’re right,” he finally agreed. “Come on.” And he walked out of the room without her, leaving her feeling like something important had happened and she had failed.

.oOo.

She had avoided social events throughout the years as Hofferson, but hadn’t been able to escape this one. She could dance like a young man easily, and talk like one too, but the hardest thing was watching all the pretty sophisticated young ladies flutter their eyelashes and cast coy smiles toward the stupidly attractive prince. He hadn’t said much to her that night, and immediately took off dancing with the many ladies who approached him, leaving Astrid bothered and angry - her default emotion whenever she felt confused. The dolled up girls who had been eyeing him at the initiation tried their hand at flirting, with coquettish tosses of their hair and too-wide smiles. He brushed off all of them, except one; Lady Heather. Out of all the ladies he had to choose, it would be her, Astrid thought bitterly.

Astrid and Heather were around the same age, Heather a bit older, and the two had always rivaled the other. When Astrid had long blonde hair before she cut it, bright blue eyes, and a pretty round face, Heather had longer black hair, a sharp chin and jade green eyes. And she was much better at charming people. Astrid had never been good at smiling and playing witty but not smart, dumb yet desirable. She was always more for a direct approach, without any of the mind games. Heather could fool most people into thinking she was a sweet maiden, but she was a cunning schemer underneath, and Astrid knew it. And seeing her say clever things to make the prince laugh as they danced sparked a burning hot ember of jealousy. 

And it was irrationally unfair that the beautiful deep green velvet dress Lady Heather wore only seemed to compliment the Prince’s own attire. They danced around the room, looking into each other’s eyes, smiling and enjoying themselves. She made him laugh as they passed Sir Eret, watching them with raised eyebrows.

Passerbys saw her expression and it was assumed that for the first time, Hofferson and the Prince would have to fight each other for Lady Heather. What they didn’t know was that ‘Sir Hofferson’ wanted to fight Lady Heather for the Prince. She was fuming the longer their hands were touching. He didn’t need to hold her so close to him. Hiccup wasn’t allowed to share a moment like he had with Astrid and go and look at Heather like that. So Astrid did the stupidest thing she could have done: she claimed Heather for the next dance.

On second thought, that had been a terrible idea. Heather knew the Hoffersons well. What if she saw through Hofferson and realized it was Astrid? She was close enough to the family to know that Astor Hofferson did not exist, and then she would call Astrid out, and what would happen then? Hiccup would stand up for her, perhaps, but if she was ostracized and brought dishonor to her family, it would defeat her purpose of acting like a boy these past three years. She had always prided herself on being a mostly rational person, but her - these - stupid emotions could ruin her.

Heather was making small talk while they swept around the room agonizingly slowly. Astrid did her best to answer coherently while debating how soon she could break off the dance with Heather without being overly rude. A voice that sounded dangerously close to Mother silently berated her every second of the dance. They had taken so much care to avoid anyone who could recognize her and now Astrid was stuck face to face with the lady she had shared her tutor with as a young teenager.

After what seemed like a lifetime of stiff small talk, Astrid had danced across the room and loosened her grip on Heather’s hand, preparing her excuses. But before she could speak, Lady Heather spoke first.

“The night certainly is beautiful tonight, Sir Hofferson,” she commented. Astrid nodded her assent weakly. “Would you be so kind as to accompany me outside?” A wicked gleam in her eye dared Astrid to refuse. 

At least Heather wanted to confront her in private, Astrid tried to comfort herself. Heather probably only wanted to keep her secret so she could use it against her, the other part of her reasoned miserably. Knowing she had no choice, Astrid reluctantly followed her. The Prince’s eyes followed her worriedly as he spied her pale face, Lady Heather on her arm. She flashed a weak smile in an attempt to reassure him, or at least tell him not to follow.

They walked through the beautiful gardens and courtyards the hosts had on display, managing to look suitably engaged with each other whenever there was anyone close enough to notice them but otherwise distracted by their own thoughts when no one was watching. Astrid allowed herself to be led, uneasiness growing along with the distance between them and the party. At last Lady Heather turned around and spoke.

“How’s your sister Astrid?” she asked almost innocently.

Astrid was caught off guard for a second. “O-Oh, yes, Astrid.” She internally cursed herself for being caught off guard. “She’s well, thank you. She decided to keep Astoria and her husband company this season.”

“What a pity. No one’s hardly seen her for three years.”

“She has been attending a good deal of the garden parties during the summer, but doesn’t like the intricacies of court much,” Astrid informed her primly.

“Is it not strange that your sister Astrid, a person I recall seemed determined to leave an impression on everyone she met, suddenly retreats into solitude at the same time you miraculously recover from whatever ailments you suffered from just in time to join squire training? The entire kingdom was surprised by your very existence - surely someone would have known or suspected a possible heir hiding away in House Hofferson? After all, servants do talk.” Heather batted her eyes in mock confusion, long lashes sweeping along her white cheek and framing her sharp, pretty jade eyes. Personally, Astrid preferred green eyes that looked more like emeralds.

Astrid froze and endeavored to conceal the vinegar panic boiling in her stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said stiffly.

Heather sighed, her lady facade finally broken. “I know it’s you, Astrid,” she said irritably, but with a hint of triumph. Astrid glared at her until her shoulders sagged.

“I know,” she said resignedly. “What do you want of me?” Lady Heather batted smug green eyes.

“What makes you think you have something I want?”

“Quit the mind games; you knew me well enough to recognize me, but I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t let me know you know unless you thought you could use it to get something from me.” Heather rolled her eyes.

“Alright, fine,” she admitted. “There is something you could help me with.”

“Of course,” Astrid replied mockingly.

“Tell me, is it true you waited on Sir Eret?”

“‘Twas only for six months, but I know him well enough. Why?”

“You two are close?” she asked, ignoring Astrid’s question. “Does he know of your identity as well?” Her eyes were tight with an unfathomable emotion.

“No, he doesn’t,” Astrid answered. “No one but - no one knows.” Heather didn’t need to know the Prince knew too, she decided.

“Hmm,” Heather hummed noncommittally. “Well, then. I need to talk to Sir Eret urgently, on a private matter.”

“You want me to fetch Sir Eret for you?” Astrid felt outraged at the simplicity of the request, for a small favor meant she would be forced to continue to have to complete small tasks to keep Heather quiet, rather than one big, riskier task.

Aside from her exasperation, Astrid’s curiosity was piqued. Sir Eret had never mentioned Lady Heather or even the DeRange clan. Hiccup had waited on Sir Dagur DeRange, and though neither of the knights Hiccup or Astrid had served never spoke of each other, Hiccup had told her they harbored some slight animosity towards each other, though never disclosed what. Did Heather want a chance to one-up the Eretson clan as part of their feud?

“I’ll speak with him,” Astrid told her grudgingly.

.oOo.

Getting a hold of Eret was trickier than Astrid anticipated. The Hoffersons and Eretsons conversed in different circles, and every time Astrid would try to catch him to convince him to talk to Heather in private, he always made excuses and quickly left. Astrid’s temper was flaring. For some reason, Eret’s behaviors were reminding her of a similar time Hiccup had done the same thing to her, assuming she, of all things, had a crush on Eret .

She finally managed to corner him one night after he exited a pleasure house. It was a rather reputable one, being well known for the humane treatment of its workers and strict rules customers had to adhere to in order to be served. Nonetheless, Astrid felt uncomfortable at such places, which meant that Eret would not be on the receiving end of her patience.

The knight swung open the door of the pleasure house, a wave of noise crashing onto the street. His face was ruddy, but not flushed from alcohol. Astrid wrinkled her nose in disdain and followed him down the street, seething the whole time. She didn’t want to confront him too close to the lively street where others could hear them.

At last he passed by a suitable dark alley and Astrid shoved him into it. Eret was instantly on the alert, hand instantly on his concealed knife up his sleeve.

“It’s just me,” Astrid snapped.

“Astor? What in the holy Helheim-” Eret began irately.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Astrid demanded.

Eret huffed. “I-”

“Never mind that; I need to speak to you.” She had decided to not mention it was Heather who wanted to see him - if it was hard enough for Hofferson to talk to him, it would be even harder to get him to agree to meet up with Lady Heather DeRange.

“Are we not doing that now?” Astrid grit her teeth. Sardonic quips were only funny with Hiccup; she had no patience for them otherwise.

“Not here,” she hissed. “You know that deserted corridor - the one that connects to the scullery, but not a servant’s hallway either?” Being friends with the Prince, who had grown up in the palace and was intimately acquainted with its nooks and crannies was certainly helpful.

“Yes?”

“Good. Be there tomorrow an hour after the night bell.”

“What-?” Eret tried to ask, but Astrid was already gone.

The next night Astrid situated herself in a concealed alcove, a tapestry hanging from the ceiling to the floor, though it wasn’t a very grand tapestry, despite its size. Low light from a nearby torch flickered and Astrid took a deep breath as she waited for Heather and Eret to appear. She hadn’t told Hiccup where she was going, muttering some excuse about wanting to go to bed. He scrunched his face up in adorable confusion but had bid her goodnight before retreating to his own chambers - probably to sketch up more contraptions or think up more experiments to try.

Patience is a virtue, Mother’s voice reminded her as she shifted impatiently from one foot to another. She didn’t even have to be here. What if Eret didn’t decide to show? Or worse, Heather? She leaned her head against the stone wall, peering through the sliver of space between the woven fabric and granite, careful not to allow a foot or hair to protrude. She counted seconds along with the drip of wax from a candle across the hall from the tapestry.

The torch at the end of the corridor flickered and bowed at the same moment Astrid’s ears caught the whisper of light steps. Eret stepped into view and then passed the alcove, stopping not too far away from the hanging, but Astrid couldn’t see him at that angle.

She heard the heavy sigh from the knight as he fought against the urge to pace - a sound she knew well after standing at attention beside him on the battlefield.

A few minutes passed, and then - the rustling of silk skirts along the tiles. Eret took a hesitant step, as if debating with himself to flee - of course, he was expecting to meet with Sir Hofferson the Knight, and as far as he knew, Astor Hofferson didn’t wear skirts.

(‘Astor’ Hofferson could wear skirts very well, thank you very much, not that Eret needed to know that.)

She saw Lady Heather turn the corner, the torchlight illuminating her coiffure in a fiery halo. Heather’s eyes swept the corridor and fell on Eret.

“Oh good,” she said. “You’re here.” Astrid cursed Eret heavily for not having the decency to stand in a position where she could spy on him easier. How inconsiderate of him.

“Lady Heather,” he greeted her smoothly. “Whatever brings you here, alone, at this late hour?”

“Oh, nothing, really,” she shrugged. “I planned to meet someone here an hour after the night bell, and now I’ve found them, so I wouldn’t say I’m alone, exactly.”

“Wha- you-” Eret spluttered.

“I take it Sir Hofferson was kind enough to pass the message along, seeing as you’re here.” He muttered an oath under his breath that Astrid couldn’t clearly make out.

“What do you want with me, Heather?” he asked defeatedly. Behind the drapery Astrid’s eyebrow rose at the familiarity in his voice. Gentlemen didn’t call ladies by their first name until they were extremely close, familially or intimately. Heather took a step forward to Eret, though Astrid could still see her from behind the curtain.

“I want a very good explanation from you,” she replied, voice steely. Eret sighed in front of the tapestry.

“What can I say? I-”

“Had no right to leave like that,” Heather hissed. Astrid frowned. What on Earth was Heather referring to.

“You’re clearly doing fine - seeing as you’re so close with Astor to get him to fetch me.”

“We have an agreement,” Heather rebutted calmly. “He was doing me a favor - but trust me, there’s nothing between us.”

“Oh I see. A Hofferson isn’t good enough, why not aim for the Crown Prince instead.” Heather walked past Astrid’s vantage point, but the lady knight heard a sharp slap. 

“How dare you,” Heather seethed. Astrid silently agreed with feminist indignation. She heard steps and peered out the crack on the other side of the drapery to spot the two raven-haired nobles had moved a few steps down the corridor back into her line of sight. “I am not interested in either of those two - I have plenty of wealth on my own. I see no need to expand it.” Eret fumed quietly and averted his eyes, crossing his arms firmly over his chest.

“They’d be good for you,” he said morosely.

“You have absolutely no right to be jealous, Eret,” Heather snapped. Astrid cast her mind back into her interactions with Heather or Eret. she had never seen any indication in which they were involved.

“I know,” he admitted tightly. “But you didn’t have to wait until I was near before you accepted any of your dances, did you? You’re trying to bait me on purpose.”

“Perhaps I am!” Heather exploded in a whisper. “God, Eret, you - I fell for you and gave you everything. You can’t take a lady’s maidenhood and then leave without a promise or any assurance to return!” Astrid barely managed to stifle a gasp behind her hand. A lady’s chastity being compromised would ruin her, from consequences ranging from being shunned forevermore by society or being entirely disowned. Such things were usually overlooked if the couple was securely betrothed, then a lady would be warned off with a wink, but this . . .

Astrid’s foot slightly scuffed the floor but no one noticed.

“I don’t even know if I can marry anyone else!” Heather was saying vehemently. Eret shuffled his feet.

“I - no one knows, as far as everyone is concerned, you’re still a virgin,” he reassured her. “I’m - I’m sorry. I just - you deserve better than a poor Knight. You know people will talk. They’ll say I seduced you for your dowry, and I wouldn’t want to subject you to their criticisms. We shouldn’t have-”

“I don’t care,” Heather interrupted. “I’m not sorry.”

“Pardon?” Eret asked incredulously. “Heather, I ruined you.”

“No you didn’t, you ruined everyone else for me,” she smiled at him half playfully, half pleadingly. Eret shook his head.

“You know your father would never agree,” he protested. “And if he somehow did, your brother certainly wouldn’t. He already hates me because he suspects . . .” Well, that explained the conflict no one would tell her.

“We can figure that all out,” Heather promised. “But I came here tonight to get a promise from you, and I intend to get it. Are you going to fix this or not? I have other methods, Eret,”

Eret gazed into her eyes for a moment. "Of course you do," he laughed weakly before cupping Heather’s face and kissing her passionately. Astrid blushed and looked away, giving them a bit of privacy.

“I won’t make you promises I don’t know I can keep,” Eret said when they had finally finished. “But I will promise to do my utmost to marry you,” he vowed.

“Better go fulfill that promise then,” Heather told him, before shoving him gently away. She waited for his footsteps to fade away before walking over and pulling the tapestry aside to reveal Astrid, petrified with embarrassment.

Only Astrid’s enormous willpower kept her from shrieking with surprise. “I - um, h-hey Heather! Wh-what a, uh . . .” she stuttered. A part of her deliriously noted how similar to Hiccup she sounded. She cleared her throat. “Your - your secret’s safe with me.”

Heather nodded solemnly. And yours is too, Astrid understood. They both had a secret in their possession to ruin the other.

.oOo.

The Prince was now more occupied with his Royal duties at the behest of the King, so Astrid didn’t see him as often. But one day he happened upon her in the stables, preparing Stormfly for her daily ride.

“Oh thank goodness,” he said, relieved. “I was afraid I’d missed you.”

“Hiccup!” Astrid greeted him warmly. “I’ll be honest - I wasn’t waiting for you, but I’m glad you could make it all the same.” She led her beautiful mare outside and waited for Hiccup to finish saddling Toothless, a stable attendant arriving to help at the end. They swung onto their horses and set off at a brisk trot through the palace grounds.

They didn’t speak at first: their friendship was one of quiet understanding and companionship, but eventually Hiccup probed her for any updates to share.

“Well, I’ve been thinking it is probably time to head home and learn to manage the estate,” Astrid told him.

“Ah, retire to paperwork behind a desk, how delightful,” the Heir commented wryly. “Sounds rather similar to what my own father has me do all day.”

“Unfortunately, paperwork is an important part of running the land and people. It’s not fun, but I’ll do it. Besides, I’ve always known this was coming - I’m rather good at running the place - after being a knight of course.”

“Right - for the inheriting,” Hiccup remembered.

“I’ll miss here, though,” Astrid admitted. “The palace, the court . . . this place has grown on me. The countryside just isn’t the same. I’ll be sad to see it go.”

“As will we,” Hiccup replied solemnly. She rolled her eyes at the gallant sentiment. Hiccup had always been a gentleman, but with his added diplomacy lessons, the young man was far too charmingly charismatic for his own good - or at least, for Astrid’s own good.

“And what about you?” she turned the conversation to him. “How goes being the revered Crown Prince?”

“Worrisome and stressful with each additional responsibility,” he said immediately. She smiled in sympathy. “And full of ridiculous political subterfuge. You know, you’re on good terms with this lord outwardly, but then you find out he hasn’t paid taxes for a dangerous amount of time and so every cordial greeting is an act. Or you find out a common truth you thought you knew was utter dragon dung this whole time.”

“Oh, that sounds foreboding,” Astrid teased. “Do you have a specific instance in mind?”

“Yes. Get this. Apparently, a few nights ago some of our spies snuck into Bludvist’s camp.” Astrid’s eyes widened.

“How close?” she asked eagerly.

“To his tent,” he told her. “In fact, they were commissioned to see if they could just carry out a quick assassination and end the war prematurely.” He paused dramatically.

“And?” she prompted impatiently.

“It was empty!” he proclaimed. “Bludvist hasn’t been there the whole time!”

“What?” Astrid exclaimed, outraged. The prince nodded emphatically. Her mind whirled with the new information.

In Strategy classes, she had learned about the different subtleties in decorum of the rulers at war, one of which was how engaged the monarch was. Berk, for instance, sent out an army to fight, but King Stoick himself was still at his castle, handling other kingdom affairs. Bludvist, supposedly invading, would be with his armies in a tent, trying to fight with them. But with the discovery of his absence, he clearly didn’t put as much stock in the fighting as they believed. Or at least, not all of his troops were out fighting, and he must be in company of his withheld army.

“We’ve been played for fools,” Astrid uttered disgustedly. “What does your father think?”

“He wasn’t happy,” Hiccup blew out a breath. “I didn’t really hear his actual response, though. His voice got pretty quiet.” Astrid arched her eyebrows and gave him a sidelong glance.

“Of course I was eavesdropping!” he rolled his eyes. “Dad never tells me anything that important.” Well, Astrid had to agree with that. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t done the exact same thing herself.

They rode out a little longer before Hiccup glanced up at the sun. “Aw, I should be going back,” he groaned reluctantly. “Dad’s have my head if I’m late for more boring etiquette.”

“I’ll race you back,” she challenged. Hiccup’s head snapped towards her as he grinned toothily.

“You’re gonna lose,” he taunted. Astrid nudged Stormfly to take off and gain a head start, and Hiccup yelled, affronted.

A head start was not enough to beat the prince that time, but it was pretty close. Astrid was smiling widely as she brushed down Stormfly, pleased at the exercise. Hiccup was taking longer with Toothless, for he kept turning away from his horse’s coat to look at her and tell some joke in an effort to make her laugh. At last the black stallion had had enough, and when Hiccup eventually turned back to Toothless, he found the stallion had stepped closer and his face met his steed’s sweaty flank. Astrid burst into laughter as Hiccup grumbled and continued to brush the smug horse.

“Excuse me, my lord,” a middle aged servant, Bucket, entered the stables and walked up to Astrid. “But a message has just arrived for you, from home.”

“Thank you, Bucket,” Astrid said, taking the letter from him. He bowed slightly and left, before saluting to the Prince. She opened the epistle and read it, eyes growing steadily wider. The Prince led Toothless into his stables and turned to her.

“Hofferson? Hey, are you okay?” he asked her unmoving figure.

Astrid silently shook her head.

“What!? Why?”

Astrid shook her head again. “Astoria . . . she’s had a baby boy.”

“Oh, well then, congratulations?” He looked at her questioningly. Astrid continued to stare at the letter.

“Why is it always her,” she muttered despondently. 

“Talk to me, Astrid,” the Prince commanded. She finally met his eyes.

“Astoria has given birth to a baby boy," she repeated. "Don’t you see?” She shook the letter angrily. “We have a proper, legitimate male heir!”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes,” Astrid said heavily. “And no. No, it is a good thing it’s just -” she trailed off, frustrated at her lack of words to describe what she was feeling. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Hiccup was at her side, rubbing comforting circles where her neck sloped into her shoulder. “With the baby, there’s no need for me,” she whispered, her eyes shut.

“What? No-”

“The whole reason I did this was so that I could be there to inherit in case Father died. And now . . .” she let out a bitter huff.

“Do you want to inherit?” Hiccup asked. She frowned at him.

“What do you mean do I want to inherit?”

“I mean, um, do you want to inherit the estate and all?” Astrid’s face relaxed into comprehension. Such a question had never truly been asked of her.

“I wish that girls could inherit instead of, say, all their belongings going to a distant cousin if there is no immediate heir. Which is why I’ve done all this - to become an heir who could keep the estate in the family. But I haven’t . . . the family estate doesn’t feel like home so much anymore,” she shrugged.

“You know, maybe this is a chance for you to stay here, at court,” Hiccup suggested.

“I need . . . I need to think,” she said faintly. She needed to throw her ax at some trees and scream her frustration up at the sky. Hiccup studied her for a moment.

“Okay,” he relented. “But I’d like to invite you tonight for dinner. We are dining privately, and I’d like to make sure you eat.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Fine. I'll see you there.” She left Stormfly’s stall to make her way to an axe. She made her way down familiar halls, a haze of anger settling over her vision as she quickened her pace, her view narrowing. Of course it had been Astoria. The perfect oldest daughter who married whoever her parent’s wanted and gave them a real heir. Astrid’s nails dug into her palms. She nearly bumped into another knight turning the corner.

“Woah!” he exclaimed, catching her by her shoulders. “Careful where you’re going, lad.” Astrid blinked and looked up at Throk, the Captain of the Berk Guard.

“Where’re you off to in such a hurry?” he asked kindly.

“I - my apologies, Sir. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I um - I was heading to my ax in an effort to let off steam, Sir,” she babbled contritely. “Again, my sincere apologies for not watching where I was going.” Throk removed his hands from her shoulders and nodded solemnly.

“I, too, have been in a similar state,” he shared. “But I would advise you to retain awareness of your surroundings; you never know when someone could strike at you. Good day to you, Sir Hofferson”

“And you, sir,” she replied. They bowed and Throk continued down the passage, but Astrid turned to watch him for a little while. The Berk Guard was an honorable occupation, she thought. Many of the best warriors of the country had been a part of the Guard at one point or another - anyone could sign up, but it was hard to maintain a position. she continued walking, but not towards the weaponry.

She didn’t end up using her axe that afternoon.

.oOo.

Dinner with the King had been unnerving the first time, but she was used to it after nearly a year. Hiccup had flooded her with praises in front of his parents, making sure they knew she had been the one to really help him during knight training. The Queen had thanked her, Astrid had blushed, and the King had jovially welcomed her to the family.

Tonight’s dinner was delectably roasted duck, with a small side of onions, carrots, potatoes, and suchlike. She ate politely as Queen Valka recounted tales of her pet owl, Cloudjumper.

After they had finished laughing about the bird’s antics, King Stoick turned to Astrid.

“What about you, Astor?” he inquired kindly. “Anything new on your end?”

Astrid hesitated. “Actually, yes. My sister Astoria has just sent word of a new member of the clan. She’s given birth to a baby boy.” The King whooped and clapped her on the back in congratulations. Her back protested at the force, but her smiles did not falter.

(Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hiccup looking at her with admiration, impressed with her strength.)

“Congratulations, my dear Hofferson,” the Queen said. “Might I ask if they have chosen a name yet?”

“Yes,” answered Astrid promptly. “He is to be christened Gunnar this week.”

“Ah, a good name, Gunnar,” King Stoick approved, nodding sagely.

“Do you have any plans to return, then?” the Prince interjected. “To your home, I mean.” He sent her an apologetic glance for putting her on the spot, but Astrid waved away his concerns.

“Well, seeing you work so hard every day has put me to shame,” Astrid teased. The King looked mildly chagrined as his wife shot him a sharp look. “Of course, I could always return home, help with my nephew and running the estate, but I’m sure I’d only get in the way with the baby - what do I know of children?” Gentle laughter flitted around the table. “But I confess the countryside seems rather dull compared to the capital at the moment.”

“Aye, that it can,” the King agreed proudly.

“So does that mean you’ll be staying here?” Hiccup asked hopefully. Astrid felt a pang in her chest at her answer.

“No,” she admitted. “I’ve decided to join the Berk Guard.”

.oOo.

Hiccup caught up to her after she left the Royal’s private dining chambers.

“You didn’t tell me you were joining the Berk Guard,” he accused her, a glimmer of betrayal shining in his expressie green eyes.

“I just decided,” Astrid defended. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to tell you beforehand.”

Hiccup bit his lip and looked down at his feet before nodding. “Okay. I mean, I’m surprised, but I shouldn’t be. And I’m happy for you, you know.” He met her eyes and the stiffness in her shoulders eased.

“Well, I can’t just leave Berk undefended, now can I? We’ll be leaving early two days from now.” Her voice softened into a tentative question. “Will you be there?”

“Of course,” he promised easily. He opened his arms and Astrid hugged him tightly.

Two days later Astrid groaned as she rose before dawn. She had grown complacent, lounging around the palace. Where had all the training gone? She scolded herself.

A guilty part of her felt better after seeing plenty of other knight’s equally grumpy faces. Throk was as clear eyed and unerringly steady as she had ever seen him, but that wasn’t surprising.

She joined the others in packing her supplies, having her gear checked by a supervisor to make sure she didn’t need a tent or other essentials. An hour passed, and Throk had finished dividing rations and other equipment for his team to gather. A small pile of the gear lay in a corner - apparently they had another new recruit, and he was late.

Astrid cast her gaze about, looking for a certain slim figure in hopes he didn’t wake too late to miss saying goodbye. She focussed on securing her pack onto Stormfly, patting her mare as she stoically adjusted to all the weight. Throk announced they would be setting off in a quarter of an hour. Astrid focused on her boots, not willing to admit her disappointment to herself.

“Hey,” a nasally voice beside her said. She swung around wide eyed to face her friend.

“Hiccup!” she sounded far too happy to see him, and that would not do. How dare he let her think he wasn’t about to come. She swung a fist into his gut - not enough to truly hurt him, but with enough strength to make him oof. 

“Ow,” he managed.

“I was afraid -” no, no, not afraid - “I thought you weren’t coming,” she amended.

“Of course I was!” he wheezed indignantly. “In fact, I did one better.”

She cocked her head. “How so?”

“I’m joining the Berk Guard with you.”

“What?” she exclaimed. “No.”

“Yes,” he corrected her gleefully. “As I said to Dad last night, ‘it would give me great experience both in combat and ability to see firsthand what the Kingdom needs; what better way to really know my subjects and land if not to meet them personally?’”

“You’re an idiot,” Astrid said blandly, but she was smiling widely. Hiccup left to fetch his gear and secure it to Toothless, who was watching the whole affair with a bored look on his face.

Throk ordered his knights to their saddles, and as Astrid swung into hers, she felt giddier than she ever had. Two dozen horses and their riders marched slowly out the castle gates. The sun was starting to peak over the mountains to the northeast, and Astrid snuck a look at the Prince. The sun cast his normally brown mop of hair into a light reddish-gold halo around his face. He caught her looking at him out of the corner of her eye, and sent her a toothy grin.

Astrid had always thought her friend attractive, but surely not everyone thought their friend looked as beautiful as an angel with a crown of light from the sun and the light breeze blowing through their hair, making it look softer than chick feathers? It wasn't a normal occurrence for one's heart to pound and flutter but also settle like never before around him, was it? If she hadn't known better, she might have thought of the romance novels she caught her little sister - Agatha, the third sister of the Hoffersons - reading, where the silly girls in the story had very similar symptoms. Luckily, she did know better, but it didn't dispel the feeling that maybe something was wrong with her.

.oOo.

The Berk Guard was less exciting than her few months at the back of the battlefield, but it also required a little more action. Throk was a great captain, patient and intelligent. Strategy classes were all very well in theory, but having to decide on the best move in a split second while under attack was far more difficult in reality.

Hiccup, it turned out, had a gift for ingenious, crazy strategies that somehow ended up successful, and Astrid was always the first to adopt his ideals. Despite being the two newest recruits in the Guard, whenever the two fought side by side, they ended up more formidable than many of their older comrades.

“You two are a great team,” Throk complimented them. “You are a great leader, Haddock, full of new ideas, and you, Hofferson - you’re one of the best soldiers I’ve ever seen. Your trust in each other is truly a terrific sight to behold. I am honored to fight by your side.” Astrid had swelled in pride at that high praise from one of Berk’s best warriors himself, as she assured him that truly, the honor was all hers.

The Berk Guard was constantly in motion, trying to cover as much ground as possible, for they were the main protectors of the kingdom while nearly all the regular fighters were at the battlefield.

As such, Astrid had found a great excuse to avoid returning home. Her parents had been tolerant of Astrid’s unprecedented approach to serve her family, but with the Hofferson line properly secured, there was no more need for a fake son when they had a real grandson.

The truth was, she didn’t want to go back to being Astrid Hofferson - No, that wasn’t true either. It wasn’t that she wanted the world to know her as a boy so much as she enjoyed what the world allowed her to do as a man. That didn’t mean she didn’t sometimes wish she could enjoy the more ladylike things without suspicion.

She liked the way Hiccup handled it. To him, she was every bit his equal in fighting, but he knew she was a girl in boy’s clothing, and never belittled her for her more feminine thoughts, like when she reminisced on her favorite dress when she was thirteen, or the family’s jewelry. She supposed it was because she was the only one who listened to him, about philosophy or contraption ideas or simple rants about the burden of growing up to take the weight of the world upon his shoulders, and he listened to her share random thoughts, talk about her letters, or the things she’d noticed about their day’s adventures.

One time she had spied a hair comb hidden in the bun of a maiden they had just rescued from a nasty pack of bandits. It was simply carved of wood, but beautifully done, the smooth lines blending closely with the tearful maiden’s own locks. Astrid had offered the lady a ride back to her village. (She figured the damsel would have appreciated riding with a woman rather than another man after the near ordeal she had been put through - not that the lady in question realized.)

She suspected it had probably been gifted to the curvaceous young lass by the young man who met them by the village’s entry, and greeted her with as much relief as the rest of the maiden’s family. He stood awkwardly to the side, holding his lantern as the sisters and parents embraced her, and then tentatively offered to guide them back home. Astrid found herself smothering a laugh at the tense exchange while the Prince shot the young man a grimace of sympathy.

“He must have carved it himself,” Astrid described the comb later that night to Hiccup. It was their shift for scrubbing the supper dishes, and most everyone had gone to bed except for the three other men on sentry duty.

“Impressive,” Hiccup hummed as he rubbed the dishes dry with a rag. “D’you think he spent many tries trying to make it perfect?”

“Probably,” Astrid snickered. “It was quite a sweet gesture, although ‘tisn’t really worth anything monetarily, so those awful bandits didn’t even take it.”

“A blessing in disguise,” Hiccup mused.

“Mother has a pair,” Astrid shared after a moment. “They’re made of delicate silver, inlaid with pearls. Father gave them to her on her first birthday after they were married. She still wears them every year.”

“My Dad gave my Mom a necklace,” Hiccup said quietly. “It’s really old. It’s a medallion, actually, not like most necklaces. He gave it to her as a gift upon their engagement. Apparently it was a really old tradition to give the lady’s betrothal gifts like that, and Dad loves bringing up old heritage. Mom doesn’t wear it, but it hangs at the very front of her enormous jewelry box, and she smiles at it all the time.”

"That's really sweet," Astrid hummed. And that had been the end of that conversation, or so Astrid had thought.

A few months later, Hiccup crept into her tent. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence: Hiccup often had trouble sleeping and frequently stopped by to talk to her about anything until she told him to go to sleep. He insisted on not disturbing her if she was already asleep, but Astrid found herself attuned to him somehow, and had never turned down his company when he sought her out.

“Hofferson?” he whispered after performing the customary scuffing of his foot along the ground before he reached her tent, his way of asking permission to enter.

“Yeah?” Astrid turned to look at him as he crawled carefully through the tent flap. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a candle burning on the ground beside her, parchment strewn across her lap and a quill lying nearby. She had been trying to write a letter to her family; as much as she tried to avoid them in person, she couldn’t actually ignore them, but found herself short of words that night, a rare occurrence that was steadily becoming more regular.

“Hey,” Hiccup grinned at her. His eyes fell upon the scattered parchment and her inkside by her candle. “Oh. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh no, I’d run out of things to say, anyway,” she reassured him. “What brings you here tonight?” she teased. Hiccup chuckled nervously.

“Haha, well, funny you should say that.” He scratched the back of his neck. Astrid’s brow rose in interest; he only did that when he felt nervous or awkward, she had learned. “I actually, um. I brought something for you.” His hand flitted down from his neck to reach inside his coat. (He was wearing only a thin nightshirt underneath. It was practically see-through, not that Astrid was looking)

Astrid found herself leaning forward as he brought out a small package wrapped in rough brown paper.

“It’s um - I know you’re not normally for these sorts of things, but I thought you’d maybe appreciate it anyway. And it wouldn’t be too conspicuous if, you know, someone else found it, because - Yeah.”

“You didn’t have to,” Astrid chided him incredulously, looking up at him earnestly.

“You haven’t even opened it,” he bobbed his shoulders. “What if you hate it?” Astrid scoffed as she turned her attention towards unwrapping his gift. As if.

She couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as she beheld it. There, belying the rough packaging lay a single hair comb.

It was burnished gold, nearly the same shade as her own golden hair. The teeth - three of them - looked delicate at a first glance, but as she reached out to touch them, she found them strong and firm, ready to hold thick locks in place. The carved shaft was not overly ornate, it was mostly plain, but it had been carved into an ax head, with slight engraving on the blades. It was perfect, and Astrid swallowed hard against a peculiar lump in her throat.

Where’s the other one? She almost wanted to ask. She didn’t know if he knew what one hairpin usually symbolized. It wasn’t a commonly used ornament in Berk, but Astrid had an aunt, Lady Bertha of Bog, who had been raised by an uneducated and unconventional governess, who had taught Aunt Bertha many things normal ladies didn’t know, and it was easy enough to pry those stories from her after enough wine.

A hairpin, Aunt Bertha had told her wistfully, eyes glassy with memories and drink, was the symbol for a secret or forbidden romance. The maiden (or at least, the richer of two lovers) would give their secret suitor one of the pair of hairpins. Sometimes elaborately engraved, sometimes merely a simple token. The symbolism had originated in one of the lands far east, so it was quite possible Hiccup didn’t know his gift’s meaning. He was also a Prince, however, and probably more acquainted with foreign customs than she.

“You hate it,” he said resignedly. Astrid’s head snapped up to meet his gaze.

“What? No!” she cried defensively.

“You’re just too nice to refuse it,” Hiccup insisted.

“Since when did I care about tact over honesty?” she demanded. “I love it!” I love - no. “It’s just -” She looked down at the comb. “I can’t wear it.” She was surprised at the amount of melancholy that escaped her voice. “My hair’s too short.”

“Doesn’t matter if you like it,” Hiccup said quietly. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she replied stoutly. “It’s - it’s perfect. I’ve never seen this design before. Usually it’s flowers or a coat of arms.”

“Oh that,” Hiccup faltered, wide eyed. “Well, um, anybody will change a design around for the right amount of coin.”

“Pff,” Astrid wrinkled her nose at him. “I’m sure anyone would think it was for a sweetheart. Wouldn’t anyone want to know about who had captured the Prince’s heart?”

Hiccup wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“You made it yourself, didn’t you?” she confronted him, trying to keep the fluttering in her stomach at bay.

“I had help,” he muttered. “But yeah.”

“That makes me like it even more,” Astrid told him sincerely.

.oOo.

A warrior could never think themself infallible, Throk cautioned them all the time, but Astrid found herself disregarding that advice, reasoning that of course she didn’t. She was in the midst of a fight with some more outlaws trying to overtake a small caravan of goods. Some of the Guards had surrounded the actual caravan, and she and Hiccup and a few others were rounding up the criminals. She and the Prince fought back to back as they always did. They had even started to build a bit of a legacy: the Prince with his crazy luck and his best friend Hofferson who always had his back.

She felt Hiccup at her back step forward and instead of immediately stepping back to protect him, she stayed where she was, continuing to engage with the particular outlaw she was fighting at the moment - after all, she was a trained warrior and he and his companions were not, surely she could easily take out anyone before they struck Hiccup. She was wrong.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone trying to approach them by her left. Hiccup had him. Wait, no he didn’t. She tried to swing to meet the opponent just as Hiccup caught sight of him. He rounded to meet them, caught sight of her, and tried to turn around again to give her room to take the assailant on. She had also assumed that Hiccup was going to fight him, giving the person a chance to lash out and land a strike on Hiccup’s side. He hissed, and the grip on his sword slacked for a fraction of a second. Astrid whirled around in a near panic, slicing the man who had hurt her friend ferociously.

She was unnecessarily aggressive for the rest of the fight, and gagged and fastened the bandit’s left alive from the skirmish hands' overly tight.

“Good job,” Throk congratulated them as they turned the outlaws into the local sheriff. “Nearly no casualties on their side, and no serious injuries on ours.” Astrid could have sworn the Captain’s eyes lingered on her for a few seconds but he said nothing.

She turned to Hiccup. “I am so sorry,” she said remorsefully. “I thought you had him but you didn’t and-”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he soothed. “I’m okay.” Her relief was so strong it threatened to weaken her knees.

“Let me see it,” she insisted skeptically. Hiccup had an annoying habit of not acknowledging pain like he should. She put his left arm over her shoulder and hobbled with him to his tent.

“C’mon,” she dragged him down onto the mat on the floor. “Let’s get you cleaned up; take off your shirt.”

“Oh so you get to take my shirt off to clean my wounds, I see how it is,” Hiccup snarked good naturedly. One of his gesticulating arms flew too far and pulled at the blood scabbing over his chest. He hissed.

“Be still,” Astrid ordered, refusing to blush. She helped him out of his shirt, suddenly finding it hard to make eye contact with him. She had seen plenty of boys’ chests over the years. Especially Eret’s, the few times he had needed tending to, and she had never blushed, not when taking his clothes to the scullery to be washed and knowing his was fully naked behind the divider in the tub - not even that time she woke him up while he had been dreaming, with wet results. (She had been mildly horrified and disgusted and glad she wasn’t a boy.) But her reactions with Hiccup had always been different from her reactions to other boys, but she had never realized how blatantly obvious it was until now. And now her thoughts were spiraling into places she really didn't want to go.

“You know the reason why you can’t help me anyways,” she said quickly to avoid thinking about Hiccup like . . . that.

“I - Yeah, I know, I was just - just teasing,” Hiccup hastily reassured her, an uneasy laugh falling from his lips. Astrid tore her eyes away from his mouth down to below his pectorals. “It’s just a scratch,” he insisted.

God he was such an idiot. Leave it to the stupid prince to insist the shallow gash along the side of his torso was ‘just a scratch.’ She shook her head and reached for the mug of alcohol she had stolen from a keg. It was unsweetened, so she figured it’d be the best for cleaning. She dipped a rag in it pointedly and rang it out. He eyed it warily.

“This is probably gonna hurt,” she warned him before pressing the damp cloth to his side.

“Wha-” Hiccup inhaled sharply but grit his teeth against other protests. She reached for another rag and wet it with water to clean away the crusted blood.

“It’s not deep,” she noted. “You won’t have to keep it bandaged for long. You might not even scar.”

“But it’s only fun if you get a scar out of it,” he teased gently. Her breath caught in her throat and she huffed a laugh to clear it.

“That was before I had scars,” she said ironically. She finished cleaning and was pleased to note he wasn’t bleeding anymore. She wrapped him securely so that he wouldn’t accidentally undo it in his sleep and fastened the bandages.

“There,” she pulled away, horrified to realize her voice came out breathier than it should’ve. She cleared her throat subtly. “All finished. Make sure to clean it in the morning, or so help me Thor...”

Hiccup caught her hand before she could draw totally back. His hands felt warm and calloused, but the very tips of his fingertips were colder than the rest of him. It made her want to shiver, but not from the cold. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. His voice was low and rich and Astrid felt herself riveted in his gaze. He needed to shave. Stubble had no right being that attractive on him. His eyes seemed to glow like bright green embers - not from a dying fire, but the embers seen in a lull of the flame, before bursting again into hot, untamed, wild glory. There was another emotion other than sincerity in those eyes, but Astrid refused to answer it.

“I-” she didn’t know what to say. She felt them tilting on the cusp of something new and dangerous. She held herself back, if only in self preservation - she knew whatever this was could never last - yet a part of her fought to jump and fall into the exhilarating unknown. “Of course,” she said, like a promise. A promise of devotion between friends, she told herself, like they had always been.

But that night, after she was relieved of her night watch shift (it had technically been Hiccup’s turn, but she had claimed it for herself to let him rest) she dug out the looking glass she used to apply extra contours to make her round face more masculine. Nowadays she usually just rubbed dirt on her face. Everyone was too tired to wash their face every day. She reached for the hair comb she kept under her pillow and for the first time, instead of just running her fingers along the metal, she shakily pulled her hair from the crown of her head and twisted it into an almost-do and secured it with the the comb, the ax head laying prettily against her tresses as she twisted the mirror into the best position to look at it.

That night, she looked at the gift, not as a hopeful token of friendship, but as a longing lover might, pretending it was a symbol of the same kind of affection she felt for the giver.

She startled at the realization, dropping the mirror. She ran her hands down her face and groaned softly.

“Oh no.” Thor damn it and Freya too.

She was so fucked.

Read Chapter 3 here