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astarionancuntnin · 8 months ago

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Die For You (Chapter 2)

summary: following your encounter in that dark alley, you're faced with your old love. will you have the strength to stand up to him?

rating: T

word count: 2.5k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader)

cw: kidnapping, reader is shackled for a while, starvation (both imposed by captor and self-imposed), manipulation.

a/n: a shorter chapter and no funny business this time around cause we gotta focus on the development of their relationship while reader is in captivity. also! look out for the additional a/n at the end of the chapter! im undecided on where i want to take this so i want all of your opinions !!

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I fell in love with someone

I don’t know

Anymore, anymore

Sometimes I wonder if you

Think of me

Anymore, anymore

You can't make much of what happened after he appeared. You were too shocked by the presence of your past lover to acknowledge whoever cast sleep on you, knocking you unconscious at your most vulnerable moment. Cowards. When you awaken, you’re shackled, hanging to a wall in a dark cell. You pull against the restraints to no avail; you were securely locked in.

Your struggling must’ve made too much noise, as not long afterwards, the door opens wide, revealing Astarion, alone. He was standing proud in lavish clothing, different from the ones you had seen him in at the party a few days ago, but just as proper. As much as these last few months had been awful to you, it seemed like they had been the best in his last 200 years of existence. He approaches you slowly, head held high and arms crossed in his back.

“How’s your head, my dear?”

Hearing his voice again for the first time in months triggers a wave of emotions within you. Hurt, hatred, longing… lust. You shake them away as best as you can before questioning him.

“Why did you bring me here, Astarion?”

“I simply wanted to talk,” he says, his tone annoyingly playful.

“Was the kidnapping and shackles really necessary?” You slightly pull against them again to make your point; you can barely move in this condition.

“Can you blame me? Seeing how you ignored me so easily all night, and the fury in which you provoked my servants, I doubted you were going to follow me here willingly.”

You close your eyes and sigh, dropping your head, discouraged.

“Plus,” he adds, “I couldn’t take the chance to have you run out on me. I let you go once, it’s not a mistake I’ll be doing again.”

“Really? Now, after all these months, you want me back?” You chuckle, somehow finding a way to laugh at the situation you’re in as you raise your head back to meet his gaze. “I notice that your inability to move on wasn’t part of the many things that changed after your ascension.”

He smiles back, amused by your wits. “I told you, I only changed for the best. Besides, I know you've been missing me just as much.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, trying to conceal your reality. “You couldn’t be further from the truth.” “Am I? Were you not alone and miserable for all these months, flinging yourself at any stranger willing to spend the night with you? Or did my spawns lie to me?”

“Wait… How do you know that? Have you been spying on me?!” You exclaim in disbelief.

“Well, someone had to make sure you weren't off to get yourself killed in some stupid way.”

You scoff, offended at this image he had of you. “I can handle my own, thank you.”

“And yet, my servants had no problems cornering you in a dark alley.”

You open your mouth as you're about to answer back when you find yourself at a loss for words. He got you there, the prick. He notices your silence and sighs before commenting on your state.

“I’m sure you’re mad at me right now, and I wouldn’t blame you for it. But know that I’m doing this for your own good.”

“My own good? If you wanted to help me, you would disappear from my life, let me go and give me a chance to move on.” You feel like crying, and yet, the irony of the situation makes you laugh some more. “You have everything you’ve ever dreamed of and yet, you still couldn’t find someone new to replace me.” He laughs lightly. “I’ve only ever wanted you, my treasure. And now,” he walks towards you with a languid pace, his hand reaching for your chin, lifting it to meet his gaze, “You're finally where you belong, where you should have always been in the first place.”

You snap your head out of his grasp. “Shackled at your feet?” You spit out.

He forcefully brings back your gaze on him, his nails grazing your cheeks, making you hiss. “By my side.” He looks at your bared teeth, smiling. “You will make a deadly consort, that I'm sure of.” Your eyes widen as you understand the implication, and your voice rises as the fear starts to set in. “NEVER.”

He tilts your head aside and leans in the crook of your exposed neck, his breath hot against your skin. “You don't have to. I can just take what's rightfully mine,” he whispers and that last word sends a chill down your spine. You struggle in his grasp, trying to pull your neck away as you shout. “Don’t you DARE!”

He chuckles to himself. “Oh, don't you worry, I won’t bite unless you ask, very, very nicely.” He releases your face coldly but doesn’t move away from you. “But where are my manners? I almost forgot; I meant to invite you to eat.”

“I would rather starve,” you declare, leaning into that last word.

He sighs, seemingly growing tired of your attitude. “Fine, do as you wish,” he says, walking away from you.

He leaves and you’re left on your own for Gods know how long. You spend those first hours trying to free yourself still and eventually give up when you start to feel the bruises on your wrists. You drift in and out of consciousness, fatigue affecting you more with every hour that passes. Without any source of light, it’s nearly impossible for you to tell how much time had gone by since the night you were captured. But, judging by the growling of your stomach, at least a full day had gone by, maybe even two. Your arms and legs were starting to give out on you as well, when the door before you opened to a spawn you didn't recognize.

“Lord Ancunín invites you to dinner,” he says, composed.

“You can tell him to fuck off.” Your words don’t have the intended effect as they’re told with a shaky voice. In truth, you would kill for just a piece of bread right about now, but you would let yourself die before you complied to Astarion.

“I'm afraid that's not an option.”

Two more spawns appear behind him, and you instantly understand where this is going; this wasn't a request, it was an order. You're unshackled, although the spawns’ grips were so strong, you didn’t notice a difference, and were guided out of your cell. You reach an immense dining room, where Astarion has been waiting for you, a gold cup already to his lips. Knowing him, you suppose it’s either blood or fine wine, not that you care either way. You sink into the chair positioned at your end of the table, eyeing the food before you suspiciously.

“You don’t seriously think I would poison you, do you?” He exclaims. “Oh no, quite the opposite; I only want what’s best for my precious pet.”

You scoff, briefly eyeing Astarion who is sitting opposite you before turning your attention to the contents between the two of you. You would lie to yourself if you said you weren't starving. The food laid out on the table looked delicious. The table was filled with different plates of food, each one looking better than the previous, making your stomach growl in appetite. You could practically drool all over the place, but you didn’t want to give Astarion the satisfaction of seeing you cave in. Not yet, not so soon. You wouldn’t let him get the best of you.

Astarion quickly understands your intentions, with you staring right back at him, and he sighs, rolling his eyes. “It wouldn’t be wise to let yourself starve, pet. You wouldn’t want to waste all this delicious food, would you? Don’t be shy, at least take a bite.”

You're tempted, but against your better judgement, you ignore the mouth-watering meal, crossing your arms in defiance. He rolls his eyes, matching your attitude.

“As you wish.”

He snaps his fingers and the two spawns that brought you here move towards you, reaching for your arms. You stand up abruptly, pulling away from them and swiftly grabbing a knife from the table, standing in a defensive stance. Astarion speaks up, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Trust me, you do not want to pick a fight here. My lovely assistants only want to bring you back to your cell for the night.”

“I know the way.”

“I insist.”

Your fatigue and hunger get the best of you; you simply don’t have the energy to fight.

“Fine.” You drop the knife on the floor in defeat; even if you managed to land a blow, you had nowhere to run off to, and they would probably catch up to you anyway.

“That’s my girl.”

You hate the effect he still has on you. He knows just what to say to get to you.

You shoot him a deadly glare and feel your breathing quickening as your heart races with anger and your nails dig through your palms. He smiles pretentiously at you, and you’re overcome with thoughts of jumping onto him and punching his stupid face, making him regret everything he’s done to you these last few days. If it wasn’t for the awful twist in your gut, you might have. You shut your eyes closed as you look away, frowning, before you start walking away and the two vampire spawns accompany you to your cell, where you let yourself slouch over the rock wall. At least, they didn't restrain you again.

Once again alone with your thoughts, your mind drifts to your companions. Specifically Shadowheart; would she still be waiting for you? Would she be looking for you? You wish you had a way to contact her, let her know you need help. Your thoughts are interrupted by a stabbing feeling in your gut, again. Maybe you should’ve taken a bite, just a small one, just to keep you going… No, this was a game to him, you needed to hold on. The pain is good, you try to convince yourself, it’s a reminder that I’m alive, mortal, and I’ll fight to keep it that way as long as I can.

Another wretched tenday passes and you avoid the food still. Every day follows the same routine: you’re woken up, Astarion’s spawns bring you to the large dining room where you’ll refuse to eat anything, until he gets bored of your attitude and you’ll be brought back to your cell, three times a day. You sense how Astarion is getting annoyed at you, and it strengthens your resolve. However, you hate to admit it, but you’re becoming weaker and weaker. You spend most of the passing days asleep, unable to think straight through your hunger, and too exhausted to do anything else.

Finally, you cave in.

As you're brought to the dining room for dinner, your gaze falls upon your favourite meal, presented before you. For the first time in days, your façade breaks down, you have eyes for nothing else other than the meal in front of you. Had this been given to you on the first day, you would’ve gladly turned it down, but you didn’t have that kind of resolve anymore. Astarion snaps you out of your reverie by speaking up, and you raise your eyes to meet his.

“You had asked me what my favourite meal was and I couldn’t remember.” His tone is gentle. “It had been so long that everything tasted like garbage. Even wine tasted like pure vinegar. It frustrated me. That’s when you told me about yours: Baldurian Mash. You described it in such great detail, I could almost taste it myself.” He pauses, and you look up to meet his gaze. “I wanted to give you what I couldn't have. A chance to remember.” You can’t stop the tears from swelling up. You’re famished, completely drained, and mentally spent; this was the last straw. You grab the gold-plated utensil with a shaky hand and dig into the plate, shoving that first bite in your mouth. It’s even better than you remember it. You chew on that first bite longer than necessary, relishing the taste of the meal. It’s comforting, filling, it tastes like home; it’s everything you’ve wanted and more. You are so hungry that you end up ravishing the rest of it, barely taking the time to savour it properly past that first mouthful. Your belly growls, this time content with the food you finally gave it. After so many days resting on an empty stomach, you can't afford to eat anything else. You smile unconsciously as you lay back in your chair, satisfied with your meal, before getting up to leave, following the usual routine.

You stop in your tracks near the door and slightly turn around towards the ascendant, pausing before the words escape your lips.

“Thank you.”

As you walk away, you miss the devilish grin forming on his lips, as you curse yourself for granting him the satisfaction of your words.

You know the way to your cell by heart now; you would probably be able to reach it with your eyes closed. You walk in front of the spawns, your mind wandering to your evening, to him. He remembered that little detail about you that felt so insignificant back then, and he sounded so sincere. What if he cared all along? Had you been wrong about him all along? Did you miss out on the signs, too blinded by your guilt? Deep down, was he still your Astarion? The same questions keep repeating themselves over and over until one of the spawns speaks up, snapping you out of your own world.

“Excuse me, my lady?”

Lady? The mention of the title stops you in your tracks and you turn around to face them, a question mark visible on your face.

“Lord Ancunín requested that you be moved to this room from now on.”

The spawn walks towards a door you had never noticed previously and opens it, welcoming you in. You look at the other spawn who nods at you before you walk towards the room. Inside you find a large bed, draped in luxurious blue and gold silk sheets, a lit fireplace creating a warm light all around, and a large window, covered by black curtains. The room alone is almost as large as the one you shared with your companions back at the Elfsong. The walls were filled with books that you couldn’t make out exactly, and a cosy blue velvet chair sat between the fireplace and the window. You’re still taking everything in when one of the spawns speaks up.

“Please let us know if you are in need of anything. Have a good night, my lady.”

You barely notice them as they both leave, closing the door behind them, too enraptured by the sight of your new room. You're confused. Could this be a trap? Was he watching you from somewhere like he had been all those previous months? You look around quickly but can't make out much, as the fatigue from your first meal in days settles in. The bed in the middle of your room looks so comfortable after spending days sleeping against the cold rock ground. You reach for it and as you lay down, you feel yourself drift to sleep almost instantly.

Familiar faces that look like you

They tend to

Mess with my head just like it's deja vu

It's always

Right when I think I’m getting over you

That it feels

Like I have salt inside an open wound

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440mxs-wife · 10 months ago

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Songbird

Pairing: Bucky x F!Reader. Other Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark, Thor Odinson. Mentioned: Loki Laufeyson, Bruce Banner.

Word Count: 10,170 (including lyrics)

Warnings: Friends to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst, misunderstanding, self-doubt. Fluffy ending (of course).

Summary: For the past 8 months, Reader has been working as the manager for the Avengers. During that time, she and Bucky develop feelings for one another, though neither one knows about it. One day after his workout, Bucky hears someone singing through the vents in the women's locker room, but he doesn't know who it is. He comes close a couple of times to finding it out, but just barely misses her. Tony somehow convinces Bucky to let him throw a fancy birthday party with a 1940s theme, complete with entertainment from that era. When Bucky finds out that the entertainer is his mystery girl, how will he react?

A/N: Happy Belated Birthday, James Buchanan Barnes. This one's for you.

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

Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast This is "La vie en rose"

When you kiss me, heaven sighs And though I close my eyes I see "La vie en rose"

Bucky was gathering his clothes from his locker after his shower, but paused when he thought he heard....singing? He stopped for a moment to see if he could figure out where it was coming from and whose voice it was. He hadn't heard singing like that since the traveling USO shows during WWII. Hearing his type of music being sung by someone so talented brought a smile to his face and had him momentarily rooted to the spot.

With his advanced auditory capabilities, he determined that the voice originated in the women's side of the gym. Thus far, though, its identity eluded him. He quickly shoved everything into his locker, slammed the door shut, and bolted out the door towards the sound. On his way over, he ran into Natasha, who stopped him at the entrance.

"Whoa, Barnes, what do you think you're doing? You can't go in there, this is the women's locker room. Your side is over there," she pointed out, her slender fingers gesturing to the doorway behind him.

"I know, but just listen!" he exclaimed. They both stood still as the last notes of "La Vie en Rose" faded away. Bucky's shoulders slumped in defeat, as he had thoroughly enjoyed the impromptu concert. He strained his enhanced ears to hear if a new song had started, then frowned when he didn't hear anything. He curled his hands around Natasha's biceps. "Will you please go in there and, I don't know, ask around? See if anyone can tell you who was singing? I gotta know, Nat," he begged.

Natasha studied him for a moment or two, then smirked as she eventually gave in to his pleading face. "Oh all right, Barnes, keep your shirt on. Please. I'll go in there and see what I can find out," she agreed. But before she could check out the area, you walked out with a towel draped around your neck and your bag over your shoulder.

"Hey, Natasha! Sorry I didn't see you," you remarked as your eyes slid over to the handsome super soldier to her right. "Oh! Hello, Bucky," you murmured with a shy smile.

The corners of Bucky's mouth slowly inched upwards until it was stretched into a wide grin, complete with a display of his perfect pearly teeth. "Hiya, doll," he replied softly.

Natasha rolled her eyes at the two of you. "When you were in there just now, did you hear anyone singing?" she asked.

"Singing?" you parroted. "I heard music of some kind, but I thought someone had their playlist on speaker or something."

Natasha narrowed her eyes as she regarded you with a bit of suspicion. "No, that wasn't a recording, we heard somebody's actual voice. Bucky asked me to go in and take a look around, see if I can figure out who it is, but--"

"No!" you exclaimed, holding up your hands to stop her. "I mean, that's okay, I'll go in and see if I can find out who it is. Be back in a flash!" Before either of them could protest, you had already dropped your bag and ran back into the locker area.

Once inside, you chanced a quick look over your shoulder to see if you were being followed. You paused at the sink and caught your reflection in the mirror. That was a close one, you thought. Gonna have to be more careful next time.

After glancing at the mirror one last time and taking a deep breath, you counted to ten and walked back to where Natasha and Bucky were standing. "There were a couple of people inside, but nobody knew anything about any singing. Welp, I'm going to head to my room but I'll see you at dinner!" You picked up your bag and waved as you walked away from Nat and Bucky.

Natasha waited until you were out of earshot to ask, "Did that seem weird to you? Like she was hiding something?"

Bucky continued to stare after you with a dream-like smile on his face. Natasha elbowed him in the side, breaking his trance. "Oof! What did you say?" he grumbled.

"I said, did she seem weird to you, like she was hiding something from us," she repeated.

"'Weird'? Nah, I wouldn't say that, I mean we all have our own little quirks, don't we? Besides, hers are kinda cute," he chuckled.

Natasha looked Bucky up and down before throwing up her hands in exasperation and marching into the gym. She turned around just in time to see Bucky look longingly at the women's locker room entrance, then retreat into the men's side to grab his bag.

***

For the past eight months, you have been the unofficial "manager" for the Avengers. If someone were to write down a list of all of your duties, it would likely span multiple pages. One of your favorite responsibilities involved grocery shopping and general food preparation. That included, but was not limited to, snacks. That meant Thor got his Pop-Tarts, Loki got his tea, and Tony got his energy drinks. You could usually find whatever anyone asked for, no matter how exotic.

Except that Bucky rarely, if ever, asked you to get him anything special. He was a little like you in that way, meaning you didn't want to be a bother. To you, it seemed silly to have someone traipsing all over the city to find that one special thing you really wanted. Too often, you convinced yourself you could live without it. But that didn't stop you from picking up a few boxes of Junior Mints, or the occasional jar of bread-and-butter pickles for Bucky.

As you'd gotten to know Bucky, you'd developed a crush on the super soldier. He was definitely a good-looking man, especially when he smiled. Your heart fluttered every time you heard him laugh, which wasn't often, thus you would do anything to hear it on repeat. Despite what had been done to him in his past, he didn't let that erase his kindness, his sense of duty, or his willingness to protect those he cared about.

Sometimes he'd wander into your office to see how your day was going, bring you some coffee, or to ask you out to lunch. You always sat next to each other at dinner or on movie nights. At times you could swear there were signs that he considered you as more than a friend. Those thoughts were quickly dismissed, because you were certain that current only ran in one direction. As gorgeous and kindhearted as he was, he had loads of women and even some men falling all over themselves for him. What kind of chance would ordinary you have with someone like him?

Today, you made an extra stop at the Farmers' Market being held in Union Square, where there was something for everyone. You picked up honey for Loki's tea, lots of hearty fruits and vegetables, assorted baked goods, and various cuts of meat from the butcher. To brighten up the Tower, you picked out some fresh-cut bouquets of flowers to put in vases. A wine vendor even persuaded you to add a few bottles of his best wines to your wheeled cart.

Out of all your purchases, the one you looked forward to unpacking the most was a bag of plums. The seller assured you that hers were the best, no blemishes or soft spots to be found. She gave you a few samples and explained which varieties should be used for baking and which ones were for enjoying right away. As you were handing over your cash, she tucked a few recipe cards into your bag with a wink. You thanked her with a smile before moving to the next stall with a spring in your step, eager to show Bucky what you had found for him.

***

Two hours later, you returned to the Tower and wheeled your cart into the building. As the door was closing, you heard shouting for you to hold the door. Quickly you pressed the button and you tried to maneuver your cart closer to your side to make room for the new passengers. It turned out to be Steve, Bucky, and Sam, who happened to be returning from a run.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," you greeted them. Bucky stepped on first, but with the cart, it looked like it would be a tight fit if Steve and Sam also tried to get on. "Oh, I'm so sorry, guys, elevator's kinda full with my cart in here," you remarked.

Steve and Sam gave each other a knowing look before grinning at Bucky, who in turn was trying to give them a murderous glare. "That's okay, Cap and I will catch the next one," Sam smirked. He reached in and pushed the one for the appropriate floor. You heard his cackling laughter fade as the doors closed.

Don't stare, don't stare, oh my God, he's so handsome and sweet--wait--don't stare, you chanted to yourself. "Did you have a good run?" you asked, then internally face-palmed yourself for the inane comment.

Bucky gave a brilliant smile before replying, "Yeah, it was good to be able to go outside and for once, it's not raining." Don't stare, don't stare, God, she's so beautiful and kind--wait--don't stare, he repeated to himself. "Looks like you bought out the whole farm, doll," he chuckled, gesturing to your nearly overflowing cart.

You followed his eyes and burst into laughter. "Yes, I guess I did! It's just that everything looked so good today, I couldn't pass it up. There's a little something for everyone in there," you noted. Bucky's face brightened. "Even for you, Bucky," you added, gesturing to the bag of plums in your cart.

His cheeks briefly flashed a dusting of pink. "Aw, thank you, sweets, but you didn't have to do that for me," he replied.

To catch his attention, you took his hand in yours and gazed into his baby blues. "I know, but I wanted to. It's okay to want things, because you deserve them and so much more," you swallowed hard to get your feelings back under control. "If there's ever something specific you want, please let me know. I'll be happy to go wherever I need to in order to find it. I don't mind, especially if it's something that would bring you good memories," you promised.

"That's really thoughtful of you, thank you. I'll try to remember that for your next trip. You going to need a hand with any of this?" he wondered.

"Nah, it's on wheels, so pretty easy. Oh! I'm making a beef stir fry and chicken fried rice later with some of these amazing veggies. You could....um....you could hang out in the kitchen while I cook? I-If you want to, b-but you don't have to. I'm sure you have more important--" your rambling was silenced by his left index finger on your lips.

"Let me take my shower and I'll be right there with you, doll," he grinned as the elevator dinged for your floor.

A warmth settled into your own cheeks despite the feel of cool metal on your lips. "Okay," you agreed, then backed out of the elevator, towing your cart behind you. "Meet you in the kitchen, Sarge," you smirked.

The elevator door started to close, so you didn't hear his reply. But you did see the genuinely surprised look on his face at the nickname, which caused you to laugh. As you turned to walk to the kitchen, you were stopped by Natasha, who stood with her eyes trained on you and her arms crossed over her chest. "Nat! What's up? And why are you looking at me like I'm in trouble?" you asked cautiously.

"No, no trouble," she replied slyly. "What was all that about, telling Bucky to meet you in the kitchen?"

You rolled your eyes. "That? Nothing," you answered with a shrug. When she didn't look convinced, you sighed in exasperation. "Ugh! Okay, I might have told him he could join me in the kitchen and watch while I cooked dinner for you all. We're just friends. No big deal, Tash," you muttered.

She relaxed her stance, but didn't give away any clues as to what she was thinking. Wanda caught up with the two of you and asked what was going on. Natasha explained what she saw when you exited the elevator and about Bucky watching you cook dinner.

Wanda's eyes widened and a huge smile graced her face at this development, and was only seconds away from breaking out into a happy dance. Before she could start, you held up your hand and reminded them that you and Bucky were "just friends" and it was "no big deal". Then you yanked on the handle of your cart, dragged it to the kitchen and grumbled under your breath about having so much to put away all by yourself.

Behind you, Natasha and Wanda were chattering back and forth, no doubt plotting your next move regarding Bucky. You paid them no mind, because you had more important things to worry about. Like how you were going to keep from cutting your fingers off with him watching your every move.

***

Bucky hastily kicked off his shoes the moment he crossed the threshold into his room. He rushed to the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he went and tossing them in the hamper. You had invited him to the kitchen, your sanctuary, to hang out and watch as you prepared the evening meal. He had to hurry because he wanted to spend every available minute he could in your presence.

When you were first brought on board as the team's manager, Bucky instantly thought you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He could tell by the way you carried yourself that you had a kind and compassionate heart, which made him fall even faster. You had a way of making everyone feel as if they were the most important person in the room when talking to them. Not exactly something he was used to having in his life, nor was having someone care about him the way you did.

Over the past eight months, Bucky has been learning about you by being around you as much as he can be. He listens when you talk about your past, your family, and your friends. He knows of your love of reading, because he hardly ever sees you without a book in your hands, even if it's a cookbook. And though you are usually up for a trip into the city with Nat and Wanda, you're much more comfortable staying in and watching movies.

He loves that you choose to sit next to him on the team's Movie Nights, and that you share your popcorn, but only with him. He appreciates that you respect his space and try not to crowd him, but lately, all he's wanted to do is get closer to you. More than a few times, you've fallen asleep on his shoulder, with his arm around you. Whenever that happened, it made his heart race and nearly sent him into the stratosphere from happiness.

But as much as Bucky would give anything to call you his girl, sometimes the doubts creep in and squash those thoughts. He had enough personal baggage to run his own airline, and what woman would want to deal with all of that? There's no way he wanted to drag you down into the deep rabbit hole that was his life, or, worse yet, expose you to any danger. He would be content to have your friendship, and it would have to be enough.

As he dried off after his shower and got dressed again, his thoughts drifted back to the singing he heard in the locker room. It was his type of music, with vocals that were nearly perfect, and it took him back to a happier time. He was going to make it his personal mission to find out who was behind the angelic voice and ask her to be his girl.

***

Never know how much I love you Never know how much I care When you put your arms around me I get a fever that's so hard to bear

You give me fever When you kiss me Fever when you hold me tight Fever In the mornin' A fever all through the night

The words and melodies from the song flowed from your lips as you chopped the various vegetables for dinner. You set them aside for the moment, along with the chicken and beef that were in a separate bowl, waiting for the wok to heat up. The rice simmered away in one of Tony's fancy, fool-proof rice cookers on the counter.

Sun lights up the day time Moon lights up the night I light up when you call my name And you know I'm gonna treat you right You give me fever When you kiss me Fever when you hold me tight Fever In the mornin' A fever all through the night

"Ah HA!" you hear someone exclaim from behind you. "I knew it was you!" Natasha declared. She had returned from her room, where she'd left her phone.

Clutching your chest at the sudden intrusion, you slowly turned around to face your friend, a panicked look in your eyes. "What?" you gasped.

"It was you, singing in the locker room a few weeks ago," she elaborated. "Barnes wouldn't stop talking about it, said he had to know who it was. I caught him roaming the halls the other day, thinking he'd figure it out by accident. Now I can tell him," she added with glee as she turned to leave.

"No, wait Tash! You can't tell him!" you blurted out. "Nobody knows about this, my singing, and I don't even think I'm that good. But....it's kinda my way of telling him how I feel about him." Your gaze dropped to the floor. "He's my friend, and if he finds out I wish it were more but he doesn't return my feelings, I....I don't know what I'd do."

She pivoted to face you and took hold of one of your hands in hers. "Trust me, you've got talent, my dear. As far as the situation with Bucky goes, I'll do what I can to help you keep your secret. But you should tell him how you feel, because you might be surprised at what happens." She gave your shoulder a pat then took a seat on one of the chairs at the island to keep you company. "Now, will you please keep singing, sweetie?" she grinned.

***

Bucky had just stepped off of the elevator and was headed for the kitchen when he ran into Steve. "Hey, Buck, where you headed?" he asked.

He explained to Steve that you had asked him to hang out while you cooked dinner, and he had accepted. He tried his best to escape before Cap could ask any more questions, but luck was not on his side. Right before they went their separate ways, Steve held out a hand to stop him and took a sniff of the air. "Wait. Are you wearing....cologne?" he wondered.

Bucky scoffed. "No, I'm not wearing cologne. Well, maybe just a little, but it's only 'cause I don't wanna risk goin' in there, reeking like the gym. I wanted to smell nice for her," he mumbled the last part, but it didn't escape his best friend's super hearing.

Steve had an inkling it was you who Bucky was trying to impress. He'd seen signs of sparks flying between the two of you and decided to dig in a little deeper. "Wait a minute. You like her, don't you?!" Steve exclaimed. He started to laugh but stopped when he saw the faraway look on his best friend's face. "What? What's wrong, Buck?"

"Shh, nothing. Just listen," Bucky whispered, breaking out into a wide grin.

Now you've listened to my story Here's the point that I have made Chicks were born to give you fever Be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade

They give you fever When we kiss them Fever, if you live you learn Fever 'Til you sizzle Oh, what a lovely way to burn Oh, what a lovely way to burn What a lovely way to burn And what a lovely way to burn

"It's that voice again," Bucky remarked in awe. "A couple of weeks back, I heard someone singing in the women's locker room. The sound came through the vents--it has to be the same woman!" He was nearly shaking with excitement that today might be the day he finds out who belongs to that enchanting voice he keeps hearing. When he heard the sound of clapping, he bolted away from Steve and around the corner to the kitchen.

"Brava! Bravissima! You were magnificent, darling!" Natasha gushed, still clapping.

When you looked up from your skillet, you saw Bucky standing in the doorway, with Steve peering around him. "Hey, guys! Come on in, have a seat," you gestured to the open chairs around where Nat was sitting.

"I heard it again, that heavenly singing," Bucky noted, his eyes darting around the room, seeing only you and Nat. "Which one of you was it?"

Your eyes locked with Nat's as you silently begged her not to share your secret. "Wasn't us, Barnes. You must be hearing things," she replied, though she didn't look pleased to be lying for you.

"Well, if it wasn't you two, what was the clapping for?" Steve asked. Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, clearly wanting to know as well.

"That was....that was because I was doing my best lip-sync of the song and showing off my best dance moves. Nat was kind enough to applaud my performance, then you guys walked in," you responded. Mentally you were crossing your fingers, hoping they were convinced.

"Oh," Bucky murmured. "Need any help, doll?"

"Um, yeah, this is almost ready. If you and Steve could please set the table, that would be great," you answered, then handed him a stack of plates and utensils.

As soon as they left the room, your shoulders sagged in relief that the matter seemed to be dropped, at least for the moment. "That was a close one," you whispered.

"Yes, it was, and it's the last time I'm going to cover for you. Either figure out a way to tell him, or I will," she warned, then her demeanor softened. "Honey, that man is smitten with whoever belongs to that sweet, sultry voice he keeps hearing. That means you, sweetie. Give him a chance, hmm?" She squeezed your shoulder on her way out of the kitchen with the serving bowls of rice.

On her way back to the kitchen, she spied Tony standing against the wall, scrolling through his phone. "I hear you had a cancellation in the entertainment section for Barnes' birthday party."

Without glancing up from his phone, Tony replied, "I did have a cancellation, what about it?" he inquired.

Natasha checked her surroundings for any eavesdroppers, then sidled up to Tony. "What if I told you, I have the perfect substitution for your entertainment? A hidden talent will be revealed, and you'll get to see the resolution to a certain birthday boy's love life," she remarked cryptically.

Tony's eyes shot up from his phone to give Natasha a sideways and wary glance. "You have my attention," he stated coolly. "What is your plan, and how much is it going to cost me?"

Nat chuckled. "It'll only cost you a shopping trip for a dress, shoes, hair, etc. Here's what I'm thinking," she added.

***

"You did WHAT?!?!?" you exclaimed.

"I found out Tony had a last minute cancellation in the entertainment part of Bucky's birthday party, and I told him you'd fill in for it," Nat replied with a shrug.

"Without asking me first, you told him I'd do this?" you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to keep your composure.

Wanda took your hand and guided you to sit on the couch. Tonight was "Girls' Night", where you, Nat, Wanda, Yelena, and even Pepper joined in to decompress and have fun. "Listen, I know you're scared for him to find out how you feel about him. But he's already enamored with your voice. He's just as crazy about the rest of you," she stated.

"We've all seen the way he looks at you and vice versa," Pepper chimed in, loosened up after already being a couple of drinks in. "Believe me, you have nothing to worry about in that regard. Frankly, I'm surprised Tony hasn't done anything more about it before now to push you two together," she added as she finished the rest of her drink. "You know what a meddler he is."

"Besides," Natasha added, "if you don't do it, I'll tell Thor that you forgot his Pop-Tarts that one time and didn't feel like going back out to get them. He still believes that story you told him that they were all sold out in every store. You remember how badly he sulked and pouted, how we had five straight days of thunderstorms?!?"

You gasped sharply in panic and disbelief then narrowed your gaze at her. "Ooh, low blow, Romanoff. C'mon, I was tired that day! If I remember correctly, Tony had me running all over town, picking up parts for some doohickey he was working on. You swore you wouldn't tattle on me to Thor. Huh. Some best friend," you frowned. After a minute or so, you heaved a deep sigh. "Fiiiiinnnne. You win. I'll do it."

"Honey, you have an amazing voice. And when Bucky hears it in-person coming out of the stunning figure you'll be on stage, he'll hardly be able to restrain himself," Wanda grinned.

You fidgeted with your hands in your lap, letting your friends' words sink in. You hazarded a glance at the faces of the women around you, seeing nothing but love and support. Maybe this could work, you thought. It'll have to be just the right song, though. "But what will I wear?" you smiled, then shrieked as they all threw their arms around you.

"Don't worry about that, Tony already agreed to splurge on the best: dress, shoes, hair, makeup, accessories--the works," Nat assured you.

"And trust me, we'll make sure and give Sergeant Barnes a birthday present he'll never forget," Pepper declared, raising her glass. "To Operation: Bombshell!" You and the others repeated the toast and clinked your glasses together. "Now, when are we going shopping??"

***

True to his word, Tony had pulled out all the stops for Bucky's birthday celebration. The best food, an open bar with the most talented mixologists, and a top-notch serving staff. For the entertainment, he secured a band to accompany you as would have been in the 1940s.

Preparation for it kept you at work until late at night, more often than not. Because your job didn't always have regular hours, Tony set up an apartment for you in the Tower. That way, you wouldn't have to be concerned about safety on public transportation late at night. Nor would you have to worry about not getting enough sleep before an early morning meeting. You were grateful for the close quarters, because getting in before midnight was becoming a rarity.

On one of your many long shifts, you had forgotten something in your office, which was on the same level as the Avengers' living quarters. To get there, you had to walk past the common room, then head down a couple of hallways. Usually there wasn't anyone around this late, but tonight was the exception.

The elevator dinged to indicate you had reached your desired floor. As you approached the common room, you heard the voices of your favorite super soldier and his best friend. The closer you got, the better you were able to hear their conversation. Curious, you decided to eavesdrop a little, which, in retrospect, may not have been your best idea.

"What's the matter with you lately, Buck? Is it because your birthday is coming up, old man?" Steve teased.

"Old man? May I remind you, you're nearly as old as I am, punk," he muttered. "Anyway, nothin's the matter with me."

Steve rolled his eyes at the obvious untruth. "To put it mildly, you've been a real grump-ass lately, and I wanna know why," he paused. "It's your girl, isn't it?" Steve had confirmation of Bucky's feelings for you and wasted no opportunity to encourage him to confess to you about them.

"Language, Cap," Bucky sneered, then sighed deeply. "Yeah, it's my girl. She hasn't been able to be around very much these past few weeks. I miss her and it's starting to wear on me. I'm so used to seeing her amazing smile every day, hearing her sweet voice wish me good morning, feeling her hand on my shoulder."

You turned away from the two men, still deep in conversation, covering your mouth to muffle the sobs before they could burst out of your throat. Of course Bucky has a girlfriend, you thought. I guess the girls got it wrong this time. Those looks everyone says they see on his face are from those times he's thinking of her, not me. Whoever she is, she's one lucky lady, you noted somberly. With that last thought, you turned the corner and rushed down the hallway to your office.

***

At the sound of quick footsteps, Bucky scanned the area in time to see you dart around the corner to your office. Now's my chance, he grinned to himself. He leaped over the back of the couch and headed in your direction.

You unlocked your door and when the lights kicked on, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Tears had streamed down your face, leaving mascara tracks for anyone to see. You hurried into your executive washroom to clear up the damage.

With a wet washcloth, you began to wipe away the evidence of your heartbreak. Good for him, I guess. I hope whoever she is, she makes him happy. But this changes nothing, you reminded yourself. Bucky is my friend, and it's his birthday. I'm going to get up there and give it everything I've got. He deserves nothing less than the best, and this is the best gift I can give him, you resolved.

When you stepped out of the washroom, Bucky swore his heart skipped a beat with how beautiful you were to him. Though his brow furrowed a bit at your red, puffy eyes, and melancholy expression. Had you been crying? What happened? Who hurt you?? he wondered grimly.

Your eyes landed on your visitor, causing you to let out a gasp of surprise. "Sergeant Barnes! I wasn't expecting to see you here," you mentioned as you crossed the room to your desk.

Bucky moved towards your desk as well, wanting to get a better look at you, to be close to you. "Me and Stevie were hanging out in the common room, talking. Are you all right, doll? You look a little upset."

"Me? No, I'm okay, Bucky," you replied nervously. "Just a little tired, that's all. Tony's got me working on a project that's taking up a lot of my free time. Sorry I haven't been around much," you added with a brief smile.

"Must be an important project if Tony's got you involved. I did kinda notice when I haven't seen you as much as usual," he rubbed the back of his neck to calm his nerves. "Maybe after you're done with whatever you're working on, we can get together and make up for lost time?" he asked tentatively.

The look on his face held so much hope that you didn't dare turn him down. Above all, Bucky was your friend, and friends spent time together, right? "How about I get back to you about that after the project is all over, hmm?" you suggested.

Your response must have been the right one, as his face relaxed and broke out into that smile of his that you loved. "Great! Well, you be sure and let me know when it's all finished, and we'll find something to do together," he promised. You nodded in agreement.

Bucky stepped around your desk to stand at your side. He reached up with his right hand to trace his index finger along your cheek. "Get some rest, doll," he ordered softly. Your eyes closed involuntarily, right before he pressed his lips to your forehead. When your eyes finally opened again, you watched Bucky walking to the door. He paused in your doorway and looked back at you. "Sweet dreams, angel," he murmured.

As soon as he was gone, you dropped into your chair, placing your head in your hands. This was going to be harder than you thought, trying to manage a friendship with Bucky while he has a girlfriend. You decided to focus on your performance for his birthday party and hopefully everything else would fall into place. Once you picked up the file you came for in the first place, you re-locked your door and headed for your apartment for a night of restless sleep.

***

Two days before the party, Pepper persuaded Tony to give you the day off so she could take you and the rest of the girls out shopping in the city. In your mind, you pictured a long, slinky dress, straight out of a 1940s nightclub. You wanted something a sultry songstress would wear while crooning into a microphone, accompanied by an ensemble band.

You found the dress in the third boutique your group visited. As soon as you tried it on, you knew it was the right choice. It was a sparkly navy blue, A-line gown, floor-length, with spaghetti straps in the front that crisscrossed in the open back. It had a slit on the left that ended halfway up your thigh, revealing more leg than you were normally comfortable with. However, it was for Bucky, so it was added to the day's purchases.

Back at the Tower, Bucky had just finished his shower following a particularly intense sparring session with Steve. Before settling in the common room, he stopped in the kitchen for a plum muffin, which you had recently baked, and a bottle of water. Also in attendance were Tony, Sam, Peter, and even Thor was on Midgard after a long absence. "Lord Stark, I have not seen any of our lady friends around today. What is going on?"

"Well, you see, Asgardian Barbie, this morning, Pepper gathered up the ladies and took them shopping in the city," Tony replied. "Barnes' birthday bash is happening in a couple of days, and they all needed new dresses for the occasion," he explained.

Bucky heard Tony mention the shopping trip and realized he hadn't seen you at all today. He wondered if you had accompanied them, and if you would be at his party. He was walking from the kitchen, but in a moment of distraction, he bumped into Steve. The water bottle flew out of his hands and crashed to the floor, creating a puddle of water. He swiftly grabbed some paper towels, and as he cleaned up his mess, he asked Tony if you would be there.

Tony shrugged. "I don't know, Barnes, why don't you ask her yourself?" he gestured with a tilt of his head. Bucky's eyes followed the sound of giggling and other happy noises from you and the others as you exited the elevators.

In addition to your dress, shoes, and some accessories, you had brought back pizza for dinner. You and the girls had a late lunch, complete with cocktails, which had started to wear off in the car on the way back to the Tower. "Hey, guys! How's everything going? I shopped 'till I dropped, and I really didn't feel like cooking tonight. So, pizza it is, dig in!"

You left the pizzas on a table and headed for the kitchen to get some plates for everyone. Bucky stealthily followed you to see if you needed any help. After removing the right number of plates from the cabinet, you turned to leave, only to run straight into his chest.

"Whoa there, doll, careful. Here, I can help you with that," he chuckled as he took the stack of plates out of your hands.

"Thank you, Bucky. I'll put some drinks on a tray and bring them in," you told him.

Bucky passed out some of the plates to those already eating, then left the rest of them near the pizza boxes. He returned to the kitchen to see you still pulling drinks from the refrigerator. "So, um, my birthday party's in a few days," he started. You hummed and nodded in response. "Was kinda hoping--er--wondering if you were going to be there?" he asked.

He's so cute when he's all flustered and shy. I wonder if he's that way with her, you thought wistfully. You mentally shook off the negative notions and graced him with a smile. "Of course I'll be there, Bucky! I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Great! If you're getting ready here, I can stop by whichever room you're in. And I'd be honored to escort you to the party," he offered.

"That would normally be great, Bucky. It's just that I have a prior commitment that night, so I'll be a little late. However, I promise that I will be there to help you celebrate," you affirmed as you carefully placed the tray on the table. "Think it's time to collect my shopping bags and head to my apartment," you added while trying to stifle a yawn.

He looked around and pointed at the stack, which you nodded to confirm they were yours. "I've got them for you, sweets. Lead the way," Bucky replied. He picked up your bags with one hand, then held out his other elbow for you to take.

"Thank you, Sarge," you giggled as you slipped your arm around his and waved goodbye to everyone with your free hand.

As you walked the halls towards your apartment, you chatted about how you'd spent your day shopping, while he was training with Steve. All too soon, you reached your apartment, thus it was time for you to part ways. You were insistent that you could carry your bags inside, but Bucky would have none of it. He was equally as adamant to fulfill his duties as a gentleman and wouldn't let them go, placing them on your couch.

Bucky realized that he'd never been in your Tower apartment before today. In looking around, he noticed the personal touches you had scattered about the space, which were perfectly you. There was a soft-looking quilt draped over the back of the couch, a pair of fluffy slippers under a chair, and some photos in frames on various flat surfaces.

His eyes soon landed on the stuffed bear he'd won for you at Coney Island, sitting on a small, cushioned chair near your bookcase. He smiled to himself at the black sleeve with the gold thread woven through it that you must've stitched to the bear's left arm. There was no mistaking that the bear was meant to signify him, which warmed his heart. He kept his thoughts about it to himself while he waited for you to return to the living room area.

"So what's in the bags, doll?" he grinned mischievously as he started to peek into one of them.

You reached over and nudged him out of the way so he couldn't snoop in any of the other bags. "Oh, no you don't, mister," you interjected. "This is all 'top secret' girl stuff. You'll have to wait and see it at your birthday party, not a minute before," you added loftily.

Bucky pretended to be shocked at your refusal, then switched to giving you puppy dog eyes as a way to sway you. "Aw, come on, sweets. Please?"

You laughed at his attempts to convince you, but you waved him off. "Does that really work on your girl, the puppy dog eyes?" you asked in what you hoped was a playful tone.

A confused look briefly crossed Bucky's face at your question. "Must need to work on it a little harder, then," he murmured. "If it's okay, I'm going to head back to get some pizza before Steve and Sam eat it all," he chuckled.

Suddenly you realized he'd completely bypassed the food you'd brought in so he could walk you back to your apartment. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Bucky! Of course you don't need to stick around here with me. I've got it from here."

"Not for nothing, but if I wasn't so hungry, I'd stay here with you for a while. Have a good night, and I'll see you around, angel," he remarked.

You walked him to the door and when he had taken one step across the threshold, you called his name. He turned around to face you and in a moment of impulse, you reached up on your tiptoes and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. "Good night, Bucky," you whispered, then gently closed the door.

On the other side, Bucky stood and stared at your apartment door. His right hand reached up and touched the spot on his cheek that still tingled a bit from when you kissed him. A smile slowly crept across his face until it stretched from ear to ear. He didn't recall how he got back to the main living area, but he definitely remembered how it felt when you'd kissed him good night.

Bucky's dazed demeanor didn't escape Sam's notice, and he certainly wasn't going to let it go. "Get some sugar tonight, did you, Bucky?" he cackled. When Bucky didn't react, Sam commented further. "Look at him, he's so in love, all he can think about is his girl."

That seemed to snap Bucky out of his trance, because he rolled his eyes at Sam's comments. He grabbed a plate and started piling it high with slices of pizza. "Besides, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," he smirked, which started Sam's laughter again. Bucky rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Steve on the couch.

"So.....?" Steve prompted.

Bucky swallowed his bite of pizza and turned to meet Steve's gaze. His neutral expression gave way to a broad smile. That told him all he needed to know, that something had happened with you to make his best friend happy. Steve was sure that the two of you belonged together, and he was more than content with the notion.

***

On the night of Bucky's birthday party, your room was a flurry of activity. All the ladies decided to get ready there, except for Pepper. She promised Tony she would arrive at the venue a little early to help him greet people. You agreed that before the end of the night, a picture would be taken of all of you, dressed in your best.

Down the hall, Bucky was putting the finishing touches on his suit. Truth be told, he'd much rather be wearing something a bit more casual for his birthday party. Since you told him you'd be there, he decided to make an effort to dress up, but chose to skip the tie.

The suit was all black, with satin peak lapels on the jacket. He left the first two buttons undone on the shirt to show off his dog tags. He'd swapped out his regular boots in favor of a pair of well-polished dress shoes.

Bucky gave himself one last look in the mirror and was adjusting the collar of his shirt when Steve popped his head into the room. "Hey, Buck, happy birthday," he grinned. "You about ready to go? Stark's already there, greeting people with Pepper."

A final check of his overall appearance and Bucky declared himself ready to go. He was feeling a little nervous, especially since he normally didn't make such a big deal of celebrating his birthday. But Tony insisted, and Stark's parties were rarely, if ever, boring so he gave in. Besides, he was looking forward to seeing you there and hopefully steal a dance or two with you. "Yep, let's head out, punk," he smirked.

***

Natasha and the other girls had somehow snuck you out of the Tower and down to where Happy Hogan was waiting with the car. He shuttled you over to the venue where Bucky's birthday party was being held. Once there, he hurried around to your door to help you out of the car and wished you good luck.

Behind the stage curtain, you nervously paced back and forth, waiting for your cue to take your place out front. You ran through the lyrics in your head and practiced some of your dance routine. One by one, the band members arrived and took their places, then worked on tuning their instruments.

About ten minutes before your performance was to start, Natasha and Wanda found you doing some last-minute rehearsing. Nat informed you that Bucky had arrived and that he was sitting at the far end of the dance floor, with everyone else filled in on either side. Before they left, they each offered some words of wisdom.

"You're going to do great, honey," Wanda assured you. "With that voice of yours, you'll probably knock Thor and Loki all the way back to Asgard." The three of you shared a laugh at the image.

"Nah, there's only one man out there she wants to impress, and he has been checking the doors like a hawk for you every time they open. And Barnes isn't my type, but let me tell you, he is looking like a delicious snack and dressed to kill," Natasha remarked. "Now get out there and use that beautiful voice of yours to tell him how you feel, sweetie," she nudged with a kind smile.

You gave each of them a hug and told them to let Tony know you were ready for everything to start. The band was putting the last minute touches on everything, adjusting their ties, or making sure the music was open to the right page. With a deep breath, you walked to your mark on the stage and waited for Tony to start the show.

"Good evening, good evening, good evening, everyone," he greeted. "We all know why we're here tonight, so let's give a warm birthday greeting to our favorite Tin Man, Bucky Barnes!"

Everyone around Bucky wished him "Happy Birthday" with a handshake, a shout-out, or even just a wave. "To commemorate his 107th trip around the sun, we have some first-class entertainment for everyone. This particular act was chosen specifically with the Birthday Boy in mind." Bucky gave Tony a puzzled look at the remark. "Without further ado, I give you your elusive Songbird."

As Tony took his seat, the house lights dimmed until they finally went out. The curtain drew back to reveal a '40s-type band, with men dressed in black pants and white jackets. There was a horn section, a string section, complete with a stand-up bass, and a percussion section.

You stood in the middle of the stage, with your back turned to the crowd. A deep breath, then the opening verse:

Birds flying high You know how I feel Sun in the sky You know how I feel Breeze driftin' on by You know how I feel

It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good

The last line is said while looking over your left shoulder. As soon as you say the last word, the band's horn section kicks up and a spotlight turns on to highlight you and your sparkly dress.

Bucky's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. There you were, his girl, his songbird, standing before him. You were dressed like he would've seen you in a nightclub from the '40s, complete with the red lipstick and the Victory Rolls in your hair. He sat on the edge of his seat, thoroughly hypnotized by your performance.

Fish in the sea You know how I feel River running free You know how I feel Blossom on a tree You know how I feel

With the microphone in one hand and your dress in the other, you sauntered down the steps in the front of the stage. Hips swaying, you first approached Bruce and laid a hand on his cheek. As you walked away from him, you gave him a finger wave. Then you sashayed over to where Thor was sitting on the other side. He reached out, but you stepped away before he could make contact. You wagged your finger and tossed him a wink over your shoulder, bringing a mischievous grin to his face.

By this time, Bucky was having a difficult time sitting still as he watched you flirt with his fellow Avengers. His eyes never left yours, focusing on your every movement as you worked your way across the floor to him. His hands itched to pull you onto his lap and lay claim to any part of your body you would let him explore. He longed to whisper about his feelings for you in your delicate shell of an ear.

Sam and Steve were keeping a close eye on Bucky, enjoying the effect you were having on him. At one point, Sam stood up from his chair and started walking towards you as if he were getting in on the act. Before he could take two steps, Bucky grabbed his jacket and forced him to return to his chair, Bucky's eyes never straying from you. Sam knew his point had been made, and mostly behaved himself for the rest of the number.

It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life It's a new life For me

And I'm feeling good I'm feeling good

Bucky was perched on the edge of his chair, entirely under your spell. Once you were finally close enough, you draped one arm around his neck and with your first two fingers, you tilted his head up. You gazed deeply into those baby blues you loved so much and noticed that only a thin rim of color was visible. When you leaned over, you put your lips close to his right ear, and whispered, "Happy Birthday, Sarge."

"It was you," he whispered back. You nodded, finally providing him with confirmation that it was your voice he's been hearing in his dreams for the past few weeks. Almost reverently, he grazed the knuckles of his right hand along your cheek. You pressed a lingering kiss to his left cheek, then turned back towards the stage, your hips swaying as you went.

On stage, the band was finishing up with the last few measures of the song while you resumed your mark, keeping your back to the crowd. As the band continued to play, you replaced the microphone in its stand and locked eyes with Bucky over your left shoulder. You gave him an exaggerated wink and blew him a kiss. When the last few notes died, the area thundered with applause, all except Bucky, who was still in his chair, stunned into silence.

As the curtains closed, you quickly exited the stage, thanking the musicians for their fabulous performance. Natasha and Wanda were waiting in the wings, where they watched the entire show and couldn't wait to congratulate you.

"Oh my God, that was amazing!!" Wanda shrieked and enveloped you into a bone-crushing hug. She bounced up and down a couple of times until she finally released you, a beaming smile on her face.

Natasha strolled over to you, gave you a wink and a knowing smirk, then pulled you to her side in a half-hug. "Knew you could do it. Bucky had his eyes on you the entire time, couldn't look at anything or anyone else but you. Still think he considers you two as 'just friends'?"

You sobered a little at her remark, remembering the conversation between him and Steve from that night you stopped at your office. Before you could tell her about it, you heard the sound of a throat being cleared. The curtain was pulled back to reveal Steve, a sheepish grin on his face and his eyes locked on you.

"Um, excuse me, but the guest of honor requests your presence for a private conversation. I have been sent to escort you to the balcony, where he's prepared to wait all night if he has to," Steve explained.

Glancing nervously at your best friends, you were met with nothing but encouragement and assurance from their gazes. Though you were nervous to hear what Bucky had to say, you felt that you owed him a chance to say his piece and let the chips fall where they may. "Okay, Steve. Lead the way, please," you replied.

Steve grinned as you curled your hand around his offered arm. "By the way, you were wonderful up there tonight. Just like the sirens me and Buck used to see on stage in the nightclubs. You know, back when we were young and full of hormones," he joked.

You lightly swatted his arm as you joined in his laughter. "Thank you, Steve. That was probably one of the bravest things I've ever done. So far, anyway. I sure hope Bucky liked it," you added.

He snorted in response. "Oh, trust me dollface, he loved it. Couldn't stop staring at you," he assured you.

On the walk over to the balcony area, many of your friends congratulated you on your singing and performance. You smiled and thanked each of them for their comments. All too soon, you were standing at the doors that led you to Bucky. A flight of butterflies took off in your stomach at full speed as you desperately tried to regain your composure.

Then you remembered what awaited you on the other side, out on the terrace. A man you were grateful to have met and considered to be one of your closest friends. A man who had always been kind to you, despite what life had put him through. Someone that made your world a better place by being in it. You couldn't see your future unfolding without him in it, nor did you ever want to.

"He's waiting for you," Steve gently reminded you. He untucked your hand from his side and kissed the back of it before returning to the party. You pushed down on the handle and swung the door open.

Bucky was standing with his hands clasped behind him, staring out over the ledge at the horizon. The noise volume from the traffic and other sounds of the city wasn't as loud as it was at the lower levels. His face lit up at seeing you, as the echo of your high-heeled shoes on the patio surface caused him to reverse his position.

"Hello, Bucky," you greeted.

"Hiya, doll," he replied, a shy smile gracing his lips. "Probably shoulda known it was you that day I heard the singing in the locker room," he grinned. His hand slowly reached up to brush his knuckles along your jawline. "You were incredible up there, sweetheart."

"Thank you, that's kind of you to say. I'm glad you enjoyed it," you replied shyly.

"I absolutely, 100%, loved it, doll. Reminds me of those clubs me and Steve used to sneak into so we could go dancing. Where'd you learn to sing like that?" he wondered.

"My grandparents kept a large vinyl collection of music from that time. My brothers and I used to spend summers with them, and it was in all the old movies we used to watch. I guess it kinda grew on me," you giggled with a shrug.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. "Well, I'm certainly glad it did, because that was one of the best birthday presents I've ever received in my life." His hand brushed back a stray lock of hair and tucked it behind your ear, while his eyes shifted their focus from your eyes to your lips. He slowly leaned closer to you, giving you every chance to resist what he was about to do.

Suddenly your index finger was pressed against his lips, halting his advances. "Bucky, wait. Not that I haven't thought about this, but what about your girl? Isn't she here with you at the party tonight?" you worried.

Bucky gave you a puzzled look. "My girl?" he wondered. "What are you talking about, sweets?"

"I heard you and Steve in the common room. It was late and I had forgotten something in my office. You said you missed your girl and that you were so used to seeing her 'amazing smile every day'. How it was starting to wear on you about not hearing her wish you good morning or feel her hand on your shoulder," you explained.

Bucky saw how your gaze had dropped to the floor and felt you slipping from his grasp. As he racked his brain trying to recall what conversation you were referring to, you continued.

"I mean, until I heard you talking that night, I thought 'maybe....', and the girls all seemed convinced as well. But after what I'd heard...." you trailed off. "All I would ever want is for you to be happy with someone, Bucky. Even if that someone isn't me," you whispered.

You started to feel the burning of tears behind your eyes and started to move towards the door. No way did you want to break down in front of the man you loved, on his birthday, for something that wasn't his fault. You were determined to hold back until you had returned to your room.

But Bucky had other ideas.

He was still holding your hand as your steps took you closer to the exit. He gently squeezed it, which caught your attention and halted your escape. You turned to face him and when your watery eyes caught his, you saw only compassion and a hint of another emotion you couldn't quite name.

"Now, darlin', there's only one girl I can think of that I want to call mine. She's smart, funny, a bit sassy, but sweet. She's thoughtful, always thinking about others before she thinks of herself. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever met, and has the voice of an angel. I have missed her these past few weeks, but I'm guessing it's because she wanted this to be my best birthday ever. And that's made me fall even more in love with her," he declared.

As Bucky was giving his speech, he inched closer to you, step by step, until there was barely any space between you. His right hand drifted upwards to curl around your neck, his thumb brushing gently along your cheek. "You love me?" you whispered.

Bucky nodded, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh baby, ever since I met you, I've wanted to call you mine, but never thought you'd feel the same. Nor did I think I deserved to be with someone as wonderful as you."

Now it was your turn. "Bucky, you deserve all that this world has to offer and more. I've had feelings of more than friendship for you for a long time, probably since we met. Thought you were way out of my league, though. Parts of this world haven't been kind to you, but you haven't let it destroy the best parts of you. Past and present, all of it makes you the man I've fallen in love with. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes," you affirmed.

Bucky surged forward, crashing his mouth into yours with a groan of satisfaction. At first, the kiss was dominant, his lips moving almost feverishly against yours. Then he slowed it down, wanting to convey every ounce of passion he felt for you. He draped your arms around his neck, then pulled you closer into his embrace until you were flush with his body. Your fingers played with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, causing him to shudder. You smiled against his lips, which created an opening for Bucky's tongue to slip in and deepen the kiss, taking you by surprise.

The need for oxygen finally broke the kiss, leaving both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he remarked. "Definitely worth the wait."

You giggled in response. "You don't know how many times I've imagined or dreamed about kissing you. Reality is so much better," you replied.

The two of you stood, perfectly comfortable holding each other, until the balcony door opened to reveal Steve on the other side. He cleared his throat to get your attention, averting his eyes but not before you noticed a teasing smirk on his face. "Uh, Tony wanted me to let you know that it's time for cake and for you to open your gifts. Although...." he trailed off with a grin.

"Hey, punk, show some respect for me and my girl," Bucky playfully growled. Then he turned his attention to you. "You ready to go back out there and show 'em who you belong to?" he asked in a seductive voice.

"Only if you're okay with showing 'em who you belong to," you countered through half-lidded eyes and a sultry smile.

"Absolutely," he agreed. After one more searing kiss designed to make Steve a little uncomfortable, you separated. Bucky took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and led you both back to the party. When everyone saw your joined hands, cheers arose throughout the crowd in celebration of your happiness. You both laughed when you saw money change hands between a few of your friends, Tony with Natasha and Sam with Steve.

You turned to face Bucky, resting your palm on his cheek and sighing when you felt him lean into your touch. "Happy Birthday, Bucky," you whispered.

Bucky tilted his head to kiss your palm. "Best birthday ever, doll," he remarked.

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

Tags:

@katelyn--renee @lassie-bird @emoryhemsworth @hintsofhoney @wayward-dreamer @never--doubt @akshi8278 @rooweighton @phoenixisred @krazykelly @imherefordeanandbones @missvelvetsstuff

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagines

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lotusarchon · 2 days ago

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The fact your making the third Macaque successor story chapter and cooked so HARD with the lore it's like a Michelin star meal. But now I gotta share my ideas

So we know Y/n right? Average girl from our universe who chocked on a dumpling when she heard LBD adress her through the screen and got Isekaied here and became Macaque's ex successor and MK's lover, but what we gathered from the latest chapter it showed that she's more than an Isekaied NPC with the entire knowledge of how the show goes. From what we learnt from Saduko inspired lady (I ain't typing that name) her very existence changed one's path completely, and we know for a fact that path is Bai He's thanks to you saying that, so now Y/n has to worry over season 3 because LBD's host changed, but somehow she managed to have an effect on MK the same way in the original timeline, so we have that to worry about

Also when she came to Macaque the first time he abandoned her he called her the 'pretentious daughter', now I'm not exactly certain what he actually said (thanks to my memory issues) but daughter stuck out to me the most, because it's odd no? Because we seem to have a role in the show, despite Macaque never seeming to show it, but that leaves us with the question who's the parents? Because that seems to be very important because Macaque addressed her like that, so her parents must be connected to Macaque in some way (or we're realated to that monkey I have my doubts on that), but when she attacked Macaque by tricking him, he seemed proud, almost like a parent to a child? So it might come into play that Y/n's and Macaque fucked up relationship might come into heavy play, because it is apparent we'll see more of him than we thought and know as even stated by him she has something he wants.

Now one of my main focus, who's this spirit woman who showed up and vaguely warned Y/n about the extreme changes she unintentionally making? Because it's apparent this spirit seems to knows enough knowledge that matchs hers, maybe even more. And the fact she showed up while Y/n was trying to find a way to change the plot just a little to spare her boyfriend the pain makes me think, this spirit seems to think Y/n came here purposely, because she stated the obvious of the impact her very existence here changed the destiny of the show and it's cast, makes me think Y/n *is* part of the original cast, she was either reborn in accident in our universe or she had the awareness that all of their pain was just mere entertainment for children on a screen so she must had used some kind of divine power to bring her there to ease their pain, but because of some error or unknown price she began a completely new life there from the start with no memories of her's whatsoever, or its some kind of divine intervention from Nuwa to make sure destiny goes as planned but somehow our reincarnations keep coming back to mess it up for MK's sake and she had to take extreme measures. Idk why but I have a feeling this spirit was or is someone important to us, and she'll be extremely relevant in the later chapters

I have many ideas of what we are, but this one is one of my favourites. We're once a deity who got sick of the repeating cycles of pain and scarred hurt she and her loved ones had to go through, especially MK's, so sick and tired she decided to start somewhere far away for a fresh start and perhaps in a change of plot since she was aware of how important she was to Nuwa, sealing away her divine identify, memories, powers all away to leave a mortal she'll behind, empty and fresh to learn and act again, maybe she's like MK's other half thanks to Macaque's confirmation, two halfs of a whole, Yin and Yang, spiritual twins no matter if they're lovers, friends, siblings or even colleagues, her deity or true self wasn't aware it would be of no use, because LBD is hellbent on bringing back the other half of the Harbringer of Chaos, after all a whole is better than a half. So my idea is we were like a Harbringer of Prosperity, or something less significant nonetheless still a deity, and our deity form is screeching in insanity and anger at her plan failing, bringing what seemed to be more harm than good, scratching at the walls that kept her incased in her own mortal shell, hence why Y/n felt the need to keep MK all to herself, it's that depraved deity version of her's that clawing back in little by little the more time she spends with her other half, and I would absolutely love the ideas that deity Y/n and Mortal Y/n are two complete different people, like MK's monkey form and human form at the beginning

Ahah okay I liked reading this rhahdkfmsnf umm hang on how do I answer this...

1. One of the fics planned for this series is Macaque/Reader, so I'll clarify Successor and Macaque aren't related nor share any relations. The entire series is meant to focus on Macaque's relationship with Successor, specifically how he crappily treats/mock her, and since I'm using JTTW elements, his six ears are useful and he basically knows some things that he uses to mock Successor, as he normally does for some reason. (Also, she was isekai'd during s5's premiere, andddd wasn't actually addressed by anyone lmfao)

2. I don't mind yapping about her so spirit-Sadako lady (Dizàng) is inspired and intended to be a Bodhisattva known as Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, who in JTTW offers his steed, the Diting, to help in distinguishing between Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque when the latter pretends to be Sun Wukong.

Most of my fics will at some point if ever, include a Bodhisattva that Wukong ran into at any point during his journey, and yes, Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva was chosen on purpose, for two reasons. The first being that he was involved in the Macaque chapter of JTTW, and the second revolves around his origins and legend.

Dìzàng pú sà is the pinyin of his name, but the Successor wouldn't really know this as she's not a native, and it's just kinda lucky she understands everything lmfao 😭. And the Bodhisattva appearing as a woman is referencing one of the stories revolving him :0

Anyways yeah Dizàng is definitely important for the lore later on :p

3. Eh...okay like the theory but not necessarily, no. Successor wasn't a part of the plot and like Dizàng says, is not supposed to be there at all. Her being there changes a lottttt of things which wasn't recorded, ever....and yeah all I can say before I ramble about the ideas for the rest of the series.

4. Not gonna refute Successor being a deity thing, but I'd like to clarify that I have no intention to make her another harbinger of anything. Interesting as those ideas are in general, I'm intending to stick with what we can get from LMK's world building mixed with other themes/legends. What makes a harbinger a, well, harbinger? If a harbinger of chaos is intended to help bring about the end of one cycle for another to start, what would any other harbinger do? And if we argue a harbinger of peace/prosperity whatever else you'd like to use is meant to bring about the beginning of a cycle, as opposed to MK, wouldn't that make no sense? Because Nuwa's a goddess of creation and in LMK most likely is in charge of taking care of the new cycles based on her words to MK, so wouldn't that role fall on her? I rambled about this on my server a while back but yeah, to summarize; as interesting as concepts for harbingers sound, I cannot and will not be adding them to my fics. Harbinger of Chaos is a title that unwillingly falls to MK, and I'm not copy-pasting his lore for Successor.

Is she a deity? Maybe, maybe not, but she's most certainly not any harbinger of anything. Just because she's Macaque's successor doesn't necessarily mean she's just a female/darker version of Mk's story. :v She has a completely different path/lore to follow

I'd also like to add that Macaque's words are intended to be mocking if not vague. He purposely takes enjoyment making people miserable, so him comparing Successor and MK is meant to be mocking. It's referring to his words in s2 to MK; that he's too naive and dense, and he's implying that Successor thinks she's different but she's just the same, if not worst (reference her thinking that Macaque kept her out of kindness etc).

Anyways everything else is up to guessing. Who knows, maybe it's true, maybe it isn't. Only gotta wait till the next one comes out :D

(which might take. Forever with my motivation lmfao 😭)

#ㅤㅤㅤໂ♥︎̼̻𓈒ིུ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ field of flowers 🌸#pome fanmail #macaque's successor au #this was a joy to read #love to see people rambling in my inboxes #but i just needed to clarify before people misunderstand i am NAWT rewriting reader as a fem/darker mk hell naw #chafhskslf #lmk mk #lmk macaque

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frvnkcastles · 2 years ago

Text

WRETCHED & JOYFUL ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank sees your scars for the first time.

Warnings: DESCRIPTIONS OF S*LF-H*RM SCARS. Please proceed with caution. Some making out, doesn’t go all the way to smut.

Word count: 1.3k

Author’s note: I broke my 3 month streak recently and wrote this to process. Much love to anyone who might relate <3

The weight of his body on top of yours felt secure and all-encompassing, the warmth and firmness of his bare chest stealing away the little breath you had left between seared kisses. His arms were over your head, closing you against the mattress, and you couldn’t help but shut your eyes and let the moment consume you.

It felt like a dream, one that you had repeated an endless amount of times, but this time, the feeling of his lips and the scent of his cologne were all real and not a mere figment of your imagination.

Right here, right now, this moment was perfect.

It wasn’t the first time Frank kissed you, and right now you doubted it would be the last, but you had never been like this — enveloped between his firm body and your soft mattress, the buttons of his shirt drawn open and his chest for your hands to wander across, and your breath hitched in your throat as he moved to kiss down your neck and his stubble grazed your skin.

It was entirely too overwhelming, in the best possible way, but enough to numb your mind from any mundane thoughts, any daily worries that haunted you whenever he wasn’t there. That was why you didn’t hesitate when his large hand dipped to the hem of your sweater — why it slipped your mind that undressing you came with the burden of what hid beneath.

Frank’s eyes roamed all over you, hungry and curious as he sat back just enough to take in the sight of you, his hands balling up your sweater and tossing it onto the floor without a second thought. With your eyes heavy with intoxication of him, you watched his chest rise and fall as he watched you beneath him, the denim of his jeans abrasive against your bare thighs.

Then, his gaze found your arm, and the half-hearted smirk on his lips fell. You recognized the look instantly, and you were punched in the gut with the realization that in your need for him, you had forgotten to worry about revealing all of you to him — and tonight, you weren’t concerned about dips of soft flesh or stretches of imperfect skin as much as you were about them. The scars.

A lump rose in your throat, and panic delved into your heart as you silently watched Frank process.

”Sweetheart…”, he finally spoke up, his voice husky and heavy with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. But it wasn’t all pity — it was, on some level, understanding, and that somehow broke your heart even harder.

”Hey, we can pretend like I ain’t see a thing”, he continued, suddenly more of his assured self when he saw the fear in your wide eyes. Fear of what, exactly, he couldn’t pinpoint. Of rejection? Judgment? Well, he had hoped you’d expect better of him, but he understood. He did. He didn’t want to push or pressure, not when you looked like a single touch would shatter you right there and then — so he waited patiently, leaving it to you to tell him what you wanted.

”It’s okay”, you finally managed, your lip trembling slightly as you sat up on the pillows, brushing your hand across your scarred arm and not missing the way Frank tensed when you did. Still, there was something safe in the way he softly looked you over, convincing you to speak up. ”I—I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. But it’s… not my favorite thing to constantly hide from you”, you hesitated, and swallowing, Frank sat down opposite from you and gave you a slow nod.

”You don’t owe me nothin’, sweetheart. But I promise, you ain’t gotta hide with me. Shit, you deal with my messes every goddamn day, yeah? I’mma stick by you all the same”, he promised, making sure to keep his eyes on yours, not staring at the faded scars littered across your arm. He remained patient and respectful with you, and you certainly noticed.

”Promise I’m not gonna scare you away?” you asked with a quiet chuckle and repeating the sound, Frank ducked his head briefly before glancing up at you.

”Promise.” He spoke so sternly, you couldn’t help but believe him. When he reached for your hand, you extended your arm over to him and let him encompass your smaller fingers against his palm. ”Y’know I love you, right?” he asked quietly, then, almost shy, and you melted into a smile.

”I know, Frankie. I love you, too”, you whispered before leaning over to him to press a kiss against his beaten nose. ”And don’t ever think you’ve caused any of this”, you pleaded, and with a hesitant nod, he made a silent promise. You knew him well enough to know he wanted to blame himself, which was why you were glad when he asked for clarification.

”You don’t gotta answer this. Aight? I make you uncomfortable, you tell me to shut the fuck up”, he insisted, and you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. ”What, uh… What’s… How come, y’know?” he asked, stumbling, just a hint awkward but you appreciated his attempt to remain respectful.

You swallowed. It was a loaded question, but one you wanted to help him understand. ”Sometimes it just hurts too much. Too many loud thoughts in my head at once, too many overwhelming feelings… I guess, in some weird way, I just want to be heard. To be taken seriously. I’m hurting but when it’s on the inside…”, you struggled to find the right words. But the look in Frank’s eyes suggested that maybe he understood.

”Yeah, hey… I hear you, sweetheart. I ain’t sayin’ it’s the same, but that, uh… that makes sense to me, I s’pose”, he licked his lips, still holding your hand with soft caresses against your skin. ”And you’ve seen me. I got plenty of my scars, too. You’ve never once judged me, huh?” he reminded, and with a soft smile, you nodded.

A silence fell in the room, and you wondered if, after all, it had been a bit too much.

”Kinda ruined the mood, huh?” you chuckled nervously, and rushing to interject you with a pfft, Frank gripped your hand a bit tighter.

”Nah, don’t say that. I ain’t goin’ anywhere”, he gave you a grave look before gesturing at his lap. ”C’mere”, he whispered, and unsure what he was planning, you slowly crawled to straddle his hips, your hands landing on his chest while his came to rest on your waist.

”What are you thinking?” you asked with bated breath, watching his eyes as they eyed your arm with your permission, allowing him to take in the sight fully.

Slowly, Frank reached for your wrist and held your arm up so he could place a kiss along the scars, followed by another one, and another, and another…

”I think you’re beautiful”, he murmured, looking up into your eyes in a way that sent your heart reeling and stomach flipping. ”Fuckin’ beautiful and goddamn brave. You amaze me, sweetheart. So strong”, he showered you with praise, leaning in to kiss your jaw — not so heated this time, promising you that he had no ulterior motive, only the hope of showing you even a sliver of the affection and love you deserved.

”That’s bold coming from you”, you argued with a content sigh, and with a protesting grumble rising up his chest, Frank leaned into you more.

”This ain’t ’bout me. I fuckin’ adore you, ’s what I think”, he stated matter-of-factly, and when you broke into a faint smile, he couldn’t help but do the same. ”Means a lot you’d share with me. And hey, any time you need me to hold your hand through the urge, you lemme know. I’m all in”, Frank continued, his low voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and softly shushing you, Frank wrapped his arms around you and let you drop your head to his shoulder. He hugged you, his firm hands holding you tight as you cried, so grateful and so safe in his arms.

And while it wasn’t a fix or a solution, his promise to stand by your side was hope.

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #tw: sh

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worldheadcanons · 2 years ago

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☆ stalker au: you flirting back!

starring. . . gender neutral reader and america + england. warning: some nsfw towards the end of alfred’s part. general stalker stuff.

author notes; something self indulgent fr

> alfred f. jones!

— he called you up, thinking it’d be a normal phone call just like any other. he’d tease you before scaring you a bit. then jones would hang up just as you were getting ready to chastise him. he likes to keep you on your toes at all times. today was different, however.. today it was you keeping him on his toes. you had been thinking about his calls for a while, wondering how to deal with them. after a while, you came to a conclusion— it was so simple, so obvious that you were amazed that you hadn’t figured it out sooner! it was all a prank. probably for television or something. this guy wasn’t really a stalker.. he was just pretending to be one. it was the only clear answer. it was the only answer that you were comfortable with accepting. with that in mind… you decided to give his prank show a little bit of new content. something.. exciting.

— “hey gorgeous,” alfred said, hiding by one of the bushes in your backyard. it’s a little cramped but he had made a little nook out of the small space between your bushes. it was his home away from home. “how was your day today?”

— you responded normally, deciding to keep things tame for now. conversation was pretty smooth until he suddenly chose to switch things up. he just loved to creep you out for shits and giggles. “i can see you in your bedroom through your upstairs window,” jones said casually, idly messing with a piece of his hair as he spoke, “you look nice today, by the way.”

— this was the moment you were waiting for. he wanted prank content? fine! here it was. you paused for a second before replying, “thank you.. you know.. if you’re nice, maybe i’ll give you something better to look at.. something more.. interesting.” you spoke into the phone softly, your voice low and somewhat seductive in nature. the tone of your voice alone was enough to make alfred’s eyes widen and his face flush red. he snapped his head to look at your window, intently watching as you laid yourself on your bed. regardless of whether or not it was supposed to be a sexy sort of movement, he found it wildly attractive. and just like that, he was horny…

— there was nothing but silence as he tried to get himself together. of course, you didn’t know about his.. situation. you started to feel a little guilty. what if it wasn’t a prank show but.. a pranking youtube channel? like.. the kind for kids? oh, god.. here you were, trying to be flirty on a video for a kids channel. “sorry, was that bad for the video? i assumed this was an adult prank show.. you can just cut it, i’ll keep things PG from now on, i promise.” you apologized into the phone, frowning to yourself.

— after a few moments more of silence from the other side of the phone, jones finally spoke up again. “no, no.. no, it’s perfect,” he mumbled after a bit, running a hand through his hair as he tried to force himself into calming down. “don’t apologize. the uh.. prank show channel? we can use this, don’t worry. hey, i’ve gotta end the call now. edit the footage and whatnot. i’ll call you later to hash out details, ‘kay?”

— alfred hung up shortly afterwards. you were satisfied with how things turned out, figuring that the problem had been solved. unfortunately for you, the problem had only worsened.. after your little show today, he was more desperate than ever to have you. somehow, someway.. someday.. you’d be his and he’d be yours. but enough of that, right now he had to hurry and get home. he didn’t really feel like jerking off in your bushes.

> arthur kirkland!

— you frowned as your phone rang. there was no doubt in your mind that it was your little admirer who was calling. he’d spoken with you several times over the phone, always kind and polite, but he made no effort to actually get with you. after a while it started to feel like a very long winded prank.. the kind that started in middle school and seemed to get worse in highschool. the kind of prank you hated most. the emotional ones. you hated to admit it but you had sort of fell for the man through the phone. he genuinely seemed to care about you.. or at least, he acted like he cared about you. your mind seemed to wander towards the worst possible situations. the thought of having a real stalker never crossed your mind however the thought of a highschool bully or maybe a workplace enemy prank calling you, that crossed your mind numerous times.

— you were usually so rational but the thought of someone trying to pull a prank and tug at your emotions.. it pissed you off, to be frank. so when you answered the phone, you decided to give this prank caller a show. you would flirt back. they’d be so freaked out that they’d either confess or immediately hang up and never call again. that’s how it usually went with ‘jokes’ like this. once you show any sort of interest back, they drop you just to shatter your heart. well this time you were ready. this time you were in control.

— conversation started off like it always did with talking about your day and how you’ve been. you weren’t one to flirt out of nowhere, so you let the mood build itself up. fortunately for you, there was a moment of banter that was the perfect opportunity. you could hear him chuckle over the phone, probably about something teasing you had said. you took the chance without hesitation, holding the phone close to your mouth so every word would be heard perfectly. “oh secret admirer,” you cooed, “i feel like we’ve really gotten close.. i’m dying to know who you are. i really want to meet you.”

— you were flirty but not seductive, as anything that even remotely hinted towards sex could be used as blackmail against you. you were a master at this game. there was silence for a long while, interrupted only by the sound of you shifting your phone from your hand and laying it on your kitchen counter so you could cook for yourself and talk at the same time. you assumed that the silence was a good thing, that maybe your pranker was rethinking their thoughts and regretting your actions. you had no clue that arthur was on the other end of the phone completely awestruck.

— oh how he’s dreamed of this moment! really, it’s like everything he’s dreamed of and more! you loved him, you really loved him, and here you were, setting yourself up on a silver platter for him! he was immediately nervous as he’d always imagined you confessing but he never thought of what would come after that. the silence was just him thinking. thinking about whether or not this was a trap.. thinking about how to reply to you.. thinking so hard about the opportunity laid out in front of him. kirkland responded after a bit longer. “sorry for the silence, love.. i feel the same way, i really do.. i want to be with you.. i want to be with you all the time,” he began.

— you froze like a deer in the headlights as he started to speak. he didn’t notice your lack of a response though, continuing to proclaim his love. “i spend all day and night thinking of you.. every dollar i make is for you, every.. every single moment i’m not with you it’s like torture for me. i’m not happy when i’m not watching you or thinking of you.” as arthur rambled on and on, he stopped controlling his voice. his accent slipped through and it sounded vaguely familiar.. but you didn’t have any time to pick apart his voice. you were more focused on his words, his admission to.. to stalking you. to being a stalker.

— admittedly.. you had known in the back of your mind from the beginning it really wasn’t a prank. you weren’t stupid.. but you had gotten swept away in your emotions regardless.. and now look at you. your stalker thinks you love him back.

— “i’m.. willing to show my face.. if you’re willing to unlock the back door. i promise i won’t try anything. i’m already outside.. do hurry though.. i feel a bit odd about just standing here, haha..”

— not only that.. but he’s apparently standing by your back door waiting for you to open it. lucky you.

#hetalia #hetalia x reader #hetalia headcanons #stalker au #hetalia x you #hws #hws america #alfred x reader #alfred f jones #hws england #arthur x reader #arthur kirkland #stalker au hetalia

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tobiasdrake · 1 year ago

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Another one bites the dust. This place is cleansed.

The Watcher? What are you talking ab-- OH RIGHT

Resh'an wanted us to repair the Watcher. That was the whole point of this. Sorry, there was a Dweller and then all of my brain space was being used for violence.

Yes. Please. If you wouldn't mind.

Huh. Okay, so I was right about it being a time prism but wrong about it being the receiver.

Hold up. Isn't this one of those giant statue bros? He's not going to yeet the prism, is he?

Unless that's how we penetrate Mesa Island's barrier? Yeeting the prism straight into it like a Fuck You bomb?

Ooo, this looks important. I'm gonna push it.

Oh shit, it's one of these. If I can swap tiles freely then this will be a piece of cake but if it's one of those slidey-doos, I suck at those.

Turns out it was neither. Simple rotation puzzle. Alright.

Is that Resh'an? Is the Fleshmancer stepping on his head?

More importantly, we've got what we came here for. Time to go see what this buys us.

Resh'an sent me out like, "Hm. 50/50 She either brings me the Vial or makes up a forgery to try and swindle me. I should be ready for either outcome."

He knows me so well.

Full strength, Garl. You only get to smash a legendary artifact of divine power so often.

Oh, so that's why it was being kept in a secure location. It warps back to him if it's destroyed. That's neat. I want all of my shit enchanted like that.

And now he's buttering me up. He does know me so well.

Tell me more about how brave and pretty I am. I added that last part because you forgot to mention it. Clearly an oversight on your part.

Are you going party or cargo? Because when I told you there's plenty of space in Garl's bag, I didn't think to ask Teaks how she felt about it. That's an oversight on my part.

So, party it is. It's cool, I get it. You're LARPing as one of us and you gotta act the part.

We should try and find you some new clothes. And a bath. I mean, Zale and I are both pretty talented at a loom, but we spent ten years sewing so. Y'know. Not on your life.

But the shops in Brisk probably have something. We can ask around, try and get you fitted. See if there's anything in Size WTF Is That.

Oh, absolutely. We're super good at keeping secrets.

Can I call you TIA? It'd be a cute little nickname and we'd be the only ones privy to its meaning so it'd make a fun little in-joke.

I think we're gonna get along great, TIA.

Oh shit, somehow I completely forgot about her. There's my oversight. Again.

Yeah, no, we are terrible at keeping secrets. Like. The worst.

Right, because trying to keep the Fleshmancer from knowing you're with us doesn't exactly work if a servant of the Fleshmancer sees you with its eyes. I gotcha.

See, Garl's got my back. Change of wardrobe and a shower. Maybe three showers. This whole place reeks of mildew.

*gritted teeth* I don't want to say yes because then I'll be denied my chance to pull you into the markets and have a dress-up montage.

But it does meet the criteria. So.

Son of a bitch went straight for her. Didn't even hesitate! Just fucking made a beeline for her, and after I tried so hard to warn him off this self-destructive path!

*sigh* I try and I try to dispense sound wisdom, but there's no reasoning with reckless idiots determined to throw themselves into harm's way.

It took her five seconds to peg him.

Five. Goddamn. Seconds.

This is why we told you to stay away from her, TIA. What have we learned? You can doubt me all you want, I'm sketchy as fuck, but don't you ever question Garl's wisdom.

The face of complete and utter defeat.

Five seconds!

#sea of stars #drake plays sea of stars #fifth party member finally joined #and immediately makes a dumbass mistake and gets fucked #he truly is one of us

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royaleofury · 9 months ago

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Hiii welcome back!! ~ are you still accepting questions? I'm KF, moon in Cancer. And the question I'd like to ask is:

What my current relationship is here to teach me and my partner? (I ask because somehow we got together, however there isn't much love going on, I can guess for now that it will end, but I don't know how etc. I doubt a lot about the whole situation)

-- You have my permission to read for me

Thank you thank you thank you !!! 🩵🩶🧡🩷

Hi! Thank you for participating

I got : 4 of swords, magician(rv) and page of wands(rv)

Right away the cards fell off , more like flew off. It seems the relationship has been getting the best of you. I am sorry because with the 4 of swords, you need mental rest and peace. You just want your inner turmoil to go away and give you the rest you deserve. There is fear of losing what you once called yours, anxiety, some sleepless nights? I am so sorry but if you are in a relationship like that, then please let it go. It's not the best one for you.

With the magician reversed, I see you are confused with the relationship. You are not sure if you want to keep going or just let it go and have your peace of mind back. There is a lack of communication in the relationship. It seems like you have been holding onto it, thinking things will change for good but they aren't. There has been manipulation going on and one of you feel like they have been taken advantage of. You don't know how the relationship will take it's shape in the near future. Someone is really playing word games and the other can't take it anymore.

Page of wands in reversed, tells me that the relationship has become boredom and you two don't feel the spark anymore. Neither you or your partner take actions to ignite the passion and it's not going anywhere.

What does the relationship want you to learn.?

With knight of swords reversed, i feel that the relationship was sent to let you know your worth. You let people cross your boundaries and say nothing, you think you don't deserve certain things, but let me tell you , you are deserving of everything you have and everything you desire. Your guides want you to learn that take the opportunities that are infront of you and dont act passive but be more action oriented and shape the future you want. Do you have an inferiority complex or maybe you developed it during your relationship? Then let it go, don't it hold you back from getting what you want.

With 9 of swords, the relationship is here to let your emotions flow out. You may have the kind of person who didn't let their emotions show to others. But the relationship is here to teach you that it's ok to show anger, to show sadness, to show your tears,etc. No one is gonna hate you for that. That's totally human like. It will make you feel that you have emotions too and you need to channel it well. Don't hold back yourself just because it will hurt others. How many times do others think before actually lashing out on you? Why do you have to think about them when they don't? Why do you have to act like you gotta be the good one? Don't! Only be good to those who actually deserve it.

With ace of cups in reverse, tells me the same thing about letting your emotions flow. Don't overthink, just do it. Also, self love is a main theme of this card. Love yourself before you love another person because if you don't , you will end up disappointing the person you love the most. This is not for your romantic interests but I believe you do have platonic love that you need to put to your focus towards. You may have ignoring your friends and family or just not talking to them enough. Have a good talk and chat with them, it will help you a lot.

#clara games #ask away game

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d-trashbandicoot · 2 years ago

Text

Turning Point?

2023 June 16th Friday 07:07

I've lost count how many times I've said that now. Will this time be any different. I hear the birds outside. Wish I knew what they were singing about.

The decision has been made. We're moving to Glasgow, for better or worse. I thought I had it all figured out. Who needs doctors and psychologists when you have old mother earth and her gifts of ganja, and other substances which most people would describe as drugs. Things that bring you closer to the universe.

It all makes sense, i see it now. I've been seeing it every time I smoke since my DMT trip. But today I doubt. What if I'm wrong, what if I'm lieing to myself. (Is that how you spell it?! Am I that dumb that I can't even write basic English).

Am I just caught in a spiraling delusion.

My friend passed me a copy of an interesting book (An understatement). Madness, A bipolar life by Marya Hornbacher. From page 1 the words resonate as if coming from my own mind, exaggerated by my "overactive imagination". (A direct quote from one of my shitty past therapists)

But yet it's all too familiar, not as chaotic but the feelings. After all she talks of type 1 , whilst I'm type 2, then there's other factors like time, location and family composition. But the feelings, the intricate prose of the pleasures of blood, the energy from drugs. Details as specific as the water bottle filled with vodka in the school bag. And the confusion, the constant misdirection, so long before the cause was even considered. A story all too familiar.

But it's given me strength in part. I never had a singular drive. I guess that's a product of the you can achieve anything school philosophy. All the possibilities laid out in front of you. But so many are fun. How is one supposed to choose and stick to one for life. It seems a waste, and somehow I got stuck doing nothing. But I'll keep trying.

Is a delusion bad if it's intention is to make you better?

A coping mechanism for self recovery.

I don't know.

I'll find out. I just gotta keep up.

Keep up the camera. Take those photos and videos, Edit, write, produce. Just fucking create. I'm tired of hiding, toning it all down for the benefit of society.

Fuck.

Them.

All.

I'm fucked in the head, why should I try to make anyone believe otherwise. I'm vibing, I'm connected with nature, I baked bread the other day. When was the last time any of those fuckers committed half a day just to appreciate fresh bread or got lost in the clouds to simply exist in the moment. They tease and show you all the opportunities, but as soon as you're different, as soon as you can't be molded or plied into their frames they let you get lost in the current. You slowly drift away and fade out of existence.

But there's hope; I want to believe that and based on the past I've made great steps. We are diagnosed, we are off the island and we are not mindless drones chained to an office desk. I go with the flow and consider the consequences (Or at least try). After all, they did say you can do anything you want, why shouldn't I try to do it all.

#teacigsandcuts

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hellsbarnes · 2 years ago

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୨ 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 (2) ₊˚ପ⊹ 𝙗.𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 • 𝙨.𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 ୧

pairing: fwb!bucky barnes x avenger!fem!reader x steve rogers (love triangle)

summary: when bucky breaks your heart, choosing dot over you, you are left to pick up to pieces, finding comfort in steve’s arms, until bucky realizes he still loves you.

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors do not interact, mentions of p in v sex, friends with benefits situation, mentions of casual sex, so much angst, lots of heartbreak, self-doubt, dot makes an appearance, (please do not read if you’re uncomfortable)

word count: 2.3k

author’s note: hello and welcome back to chapter 2! i am so so happy to finally have it up for you guys! i spent a lot of time trying to get this chapter right, i hope you enjoy it and please remember to reblog, thank you!

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

You had no idea how long it had been when you finally woke up to sunlight fluttering across your face, stinging your already puffy eyes as you somehow still managed to find it in yourself to get up. You sigh softly, wincing as you blinked, feeling the pain of having cried almost the whole of last night, barely being able to catch about less than three hours of sleep.

You looked towards the clock, the numbers seven thirty-three reflected back and usually you’d be down for breakfast, especially since it was Wanda who would always cook up pancakes and she had always made the coffee taste way better you had remembered it to be, you would have raced towards the kitchen, perhaps start a banter with Sam who always took a little too many pancakes, but then again, you couldn’t go down, no, because he was going to be there.

Bucky would be there, back from his morning run with Steve and Sam, sweaty, his too tight of a shirt sticking to him, giving you a great view of his biceps, and the smile he would give you, almost as if he hadn’t just railed you into your bed hours ago, or rather crushed the heart that you had so delicately placed in his hands.

It was that smile that had gotten your hopes up, that and the way he said “good morning doll” without knowing what that little pet name he gave you did to you. It made butterflies flutter in your tummy, it made you float for the rest of the morning as you went about your day, so, so excited to see him again at night.

“Tin man we both know I won” you froze hearing Sam’s voice reverberate across the hallway, you swallowed hard trying not to make a sound as you heard Bucky’s laugh, loud, contagious and a constant reminder of how well he was still doing, the complete opposite of how you were. Perhaps it was just a simple reminder that you had never meant anything to him at all.

“Keep telling yourself that Wilson, as if anyone’s gonna believe it” you hear him retort, it was the usual argument about who won and how many rounds they each had made in the park, and you heard Steve say something about how it doesn’t matter.

“Yeah, well I know I won,”

“Like hell you did Sam”

“(Y/N) will say I won” Sam replies and you falter when you hear the footsteps that had drawn closer the past few minutes stop outside your door, pausing, and you recognise it almost immediately.

How could you not?

Those footsteps had your heart rushing every time he drew closer, every time he leaned in to see which book you were reading, before asking you to tell him all about it.

“You gotta read it yourself Buck” you had said, giggling when said man rolls his eyes playfully, smile on his face as he looks towards you, “well I have you to tell me darling” he would say, not knowing how he made you feel, as you covered it up with an expert chuckle, before telling him just about every detail of the book.

Maybe it was the way he would listen to you so intently, taking in everything that you would say or it was the way he would lean in, interested in the story you spun from the book, you had let yourself believe that all of it was done because he liked you too.

You could never be more wrong about it.

“Buck?” you heard Steve call and when the footsteps shuffled away, you let the tears that had welled up in your eyes to spill, staining your cheeks once more as you struggle to keep him out of your head, but it was almost impossible to do so, not with the image of his smile or the fleeting feeling of his arm oh so carefully wrapping around your waist when he tried to steady you while you were hanging christmas decorations across the ceiling of the tower.

“Bucky, is it straight?” you asked, trying to look at the decoration you had just hung up, in your eyes it was just a little too much to the right, you bite your lip as you pushed the candy cane to the left.

“It’s perfect” Bucky replied, boyish smirk on his face as hands you another ornament, you took it, and as you tiptoed, trying so hard to reach the hook that was just out of your reach, before you knew it, your foot slipped off the ladder step and you let out a scream as you tried to grab the ladder, only to fail as you fall, you were half expecting to hit the ground, when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, supporting you, you were breathing hard, looking down to see the brunette, an almost worried look on his face.

“I got you” he said, and you manage today thank you, your heart thundering in your chest. “I always got you doll” he adds, and you remembered thanking whatever god that existed that you weren’t facing him because butterflies were fluttering in your tummy, your cheeks had heated up and that night, you found yourself underneath Bucky again, a moaning mess as he thrust into you.

Oh, you were a putty in the brunette’s hands, you had tried on many occasions to claw your way out, your mind screaming abort, abort but it was too late because your heart had settled itself down, it belonged to Bucky and there was just nothing you could do about it, not that your heart had minded at all, and there it all began, the pining, the endless daydreaming and god forbid, the thoughts you had of him someday wanting you the way you pined for him never stopped.

A tear slid down your cheek and then another, and it didn’t take any longer than a minute for you to end up in the same state as you did just hours ago.

You weren’t exactly sure how many days it has been since what had happened, maybe a week. You were temporarily pulled out of your misery when a soft knock echoed on your door, you mumbled a who’s there only to hear Wanda, asking if she could come in. You stood up, walking over to let her in, she had come with pancakes, your favourite chocolate chip ones and a mug of coffee.

The second she saw the state you were in, she sighs, putting the food down, “come here” she had said softly, taking you in her arms as you sobbed uncontrollably, the dam breaking as you cry, and as the best friend you’ve had since your first day joining the team, she held you, soothing you with warm words and comforting pats.

“Was it Barnes?” she asked and you nod, she had found out about the whole situationship you had with Bucky just days after, she had somehow noticed a spring in your step, your smile was wider, and your eyes simply lit up whenever the brunette walked into the room. That and the fact that you and Bucky would often disappear halfway through movies or parties, and it didn’t take long for her to put two and two together.

“Don’t do this,” she had warned, she knew the feelings you harboured for Bucky, but you were thinking with your heart and you had ignored her advice to stop whatever you and the brunette had going on. You continued, diving deeper and deeper and here you were, crying, trying to find some way to stop the pain, wishing that you had taken her advice sooner.

“W-wanda, he left” you managed to choke out, “it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” she comforts and you willed yourself to believe her words, “come on, let’s go to the pizza place downtown, away from the tower,” she starts and you shake your head.

“You gotta leave this place (Y/N), at least for a while,” she says, standing up and picking up the tissues scattered all over your bedroom floor. “Yeah” you croaked, your voice hoarse as you stood up, finding it in yourself to head to the bathroom, peeling the too big of a shirt of yourself, trying to ignore the fact that it was the piece that Bucky had borrowed you when he had accidentally spilled coffee all over your shirt, you never found the chance to return it.

Well, more like you didn’t want the chance to return it, so you kept it, wearing it so you could smell his scent that until now, still stained the shirt, placing it into your laundry basket you stepped into the shower, allowing the warm stream of water to wash the tears away, to soothe the aching muscles and as you close your eyes, you tried your hardest to forget him.

“Pepperoni or Hawaiian?” Wanda asks as you skim over the menu that is laid before you on the table, the already extremely impatient waitress tapping her pen on her little notebook as you try to make a decision, given the fact you just spent half the day crying, food wasn’t exactly the first thing on your mind.

“Um, Hawaiian’s nice,” you say softly and she nods as the waitress scribbles your order down, walking away. You glance at the scenery before you, you could hear laughter, the sound of the ice-cream truck twirling around the street, with children trailing it, discussing which flavours they wanted to get.

It reminded you of the times that you and him would go on walks through the streets of New York, ever so often stopping for an ice-cream, gone were the times he’d smudge his desert on your nose jokingly.

You could still see the memories play in your head like a film without sound, and you hated how you could feel tears sting at the corner of your eyes as your memories of what you and Bucky threatened to overwhelm you.

Your eyes had been filled with adoration for him and well, his had been void of any emotion for you.

“You okay?” Wanda asks and you nod, about to reply when your eyes met his gaze, the one person that you had really hoped not to see, you quiver under his gaze that seemed so sharp you felt that it could probably slice through you, the same gaze he gave you when you begged him to stay, it was though he didn’t know you’d be here as well, and he wasn’t alone.

He had a girl on his arm, and by the way he was holding on by the waist, you knew she was the girl that Bucky had chosen over you. You watched as they settled at the table that you remembered sharing with him just a month ago at seven in the evening when he asked if you wanted pizza.

You could see why he had dropped you in a blink of an eye, any man would have chosen the bombshell babe almost instantly, the girl that sat across him was perfect in just about every way you never could see yourself being.

Her hair fell down her shoulders in waves, and yours, well, a look in the mirror made the difference between you and the woman Bucky had chosen all the more obvious.

The red lip colour she had going on made her lips plump, kissable and it complemented her red mini skirt, that stopped just below her thighs, exposing her toned legs, she had on a crop top that seemed to emphasise her waist, the little piercing at her belly button glinted under the afternoon sun.

However, what caught your eye was the necklace she had on her neck.

It was a four leaf clover, the very same one that Bucky had gotten you last Christmas, there was no mistaking it, the dazzling light green that painted the metal leaves were the same as what you had back in your room, it still sat in your little gold jewellery box, and the delicate silver chain that adorned her neck only reminded you of how you were over the moon when Bucky helped you put it on.

You had turned around, thanking him and finally worked up the courage to plant a kiss on his cheek. You had worn it daily, taken great care of it, glad to have something that maybe made you Bucky’s person, pretty much forsaking even your Tiffany necklace for the one he gave you.

You watched as she slid her hand so easily into his, a smile on her face as he said something that made her giggle the way he used to do when you and him were out for milkshakes and she looked gorgeous while doing so, looking as though she was one of them Victoria Secret models with her alluring smile.

She was everything Bucky wanted, it was a choice clear as day when it came between you or her.

“We could go somewhere else if you’d like,” Wanda says and you force a smile, shaking your head as you breathe, looking down, hoping that Bucky doesn’t see you wipe tears from your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you say as you tried your hardest to swallow the slice of pizza that sat on your plate, the crust scraping your already dry throat as you ignored the tangy taste of the marinara sauce, willing yourself to not look at the oh so happy couple that sat a few feet away from you.

The couple that you had thought you and the brunette would somehow end up being, all smiles and giggles, too busy talking to each other to notice how the world around you two turned was never meant to exist.

You had imagined a love like the ones you read in books, such like Mr Darcy and Elizabeth, but you now realised what were written in your favourite books could never be what you longed to have.

You blinked back tears, slowly coming to the clear realisation that Bucky would never love you.

He never did.

note: i hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you would like me to continue, let me know, please remember to reblog, it would mean a lot to me, thank you!

unloving you taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @hamiltonofjakku @dks1ut @wintasssoldier @astronvmyy @hotleaf-juice @meghannnnnn @multifanworld @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @illiteratezee @lightsonnooneshome @ackerfem @sweetwritingfanficfriend @igotmajordaddyissues @wakandabiitch2 @buckyslucky @learisa @geeky-politics-46 @raajali3 @buckybraneslover111 @dammn-dean @lanadelreyismysoul @getwellsoontana @buckys-bunny @arikarapli @fangirling-galore @becauseofboyband @thedragonbornsblog @buckybarnesandmarvel @bubblegumpslump @starwhore27 @paulasocean @latorsgatorz @calwitch @peter1ismybrother @here4thespice @elishi03 @feltonswifesworld87 @valhalla-kristin @roofwitty779 @eclectricpatrolroadlawyer @avery199 @aboobie @dearest-bucky @matchat3a @cjand10 @d3m0nchild @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @spookymicrowave @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @almosttoopizza @iilsenewman @preciouscupcake @ethreal-love (tags are open! fill in my taglist form if you’d like to be tagged)

bucky barnes taglist: @alexxavicry (tags are open! fill in my taglist form if you’d like to be tagged)

steve rogers taglist: - (tags are open! fill in my taglist form if you’d like to be tagged)

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quindolyn · 4 years ago

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Could you do a marauders x reader fluff?? Like a poly relationship and it’s like Valentine’s Day or sumthing love ur writing <3

Armfuls of Sunshine || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 2365

A/N: It’s not really valentines day in the fic or any holiday like that, it’s just that swim weather is setting in for me and I want a lazy day at the lake with the boys so this is completely self indulgent. I know I haven’t been writing a lot I’ve just been a bit overwhelmed and I wish I could say that this is a sign that my life is mellowing out but I’m afraid that it is actually to the contrary. In summary, don’t get your hopes up

Warnings: hastily written, tired while written, fem reader, kisses, lake day so reader is wearing a swimsuit, mentions of Remus’ body image issues and allusions to Sirius’ past abuse from his parents

Masterlist

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back to rest against Sirius’ shoulder who sat behind you with you between his legs. Sitting by the Black Lake he was shirtless, you adorned only in a modest two piece swimsuit leaving the skin of your belly exposed so that Sirius could trace shapes along the soft skin. With your back pressed to his chest and the sun’s rays hitting your front you were surrounded by warmth, like a nice little cocoon you were tucked into.

With your head against his shoulder you left the side of your neck open, vulnerable, allowing him to drip down wordlessly and brush his lips over the delicate skin before finding your sweet spot on the back of your neck and nipping lightly, his hands moving to grip your hips so you couldn’t squirm out of the hold he had on you.

“Siri!” You giggled, feeling Sirius grin into the side of your neck, getting just the reaction out of you that he had wanted.

“Shhh Puppy,” He whispered condescendingly in your ear, “Gotta be quiet, can’t wake up Jamie,” He nodded his head over to your right where just mere inches from you laid the slumbering boy, all messy black curls, hazel eyes, and with a physique that had you weak in the knees every time you saw him.

Currently his back was on display for you as he laid on his stomach, his hands resting beneath his forehead acting as a pillow, you admired the way the sunlight illuminated his skin and you could see the muscles subtly shift under that skin as he breathed deeply in his sleep.

Watching him, you became aware of just how hot the sun had gotten in the hour or so the three of you had been lounging out there, waiting for Remus to finish up his prefect duties so that the four of you could go cool off in the water together.

“We should wake him up, Siri,” You voiced, lifting yourself slightly from his lap in attempts to wake up James but quickly strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you back down to the spot between his muscled thighs.

“Oh come on baby, you don’t wanna do that, you know how grumpy the baby gets when you wake him up from a nap,” He murmured this mockingly into your neck, hoping that the boy he spoke of wouldn’t be able to hear him but as James let out a disgruntled groan and began to fidget you knew he was waking up.

Ignoring Sirius’ snarky remark, you leaned forward once more, this time Sirius’ hands just keeping a steady hold on your hips while making no effort to pull you back.

“Hey baby,” You crooned, supporting your weight on one hand pressed firmly to the ground while the other moved to bury itself deep in James’ locks, scratching with your nails the way you know he liked on his scalp, smiling at the content grunt the boy let out at your ministrations.

Gazing down at him you let your eyes scan his back once more, frowning as you noticed the slight pink tinge beginning to taint his skin, a precursor to what could be a wicked sunburn if not properly prevented. Letting your hand slip from his scalp you ran it down his neck and down his back, he was warmer than he should’ve been, it wasn’t just ‘laying in the sun’ kinda warm it was ‘beginning to fry’ kinda hot.

“Jamie,” You muttered again, louder this time so that you might be able to get more of his attention, “Jamie, wake up.”

“Hmmm?” He hummed, turning onto his side so that he was facing you, eyes slowly blinking open, squinting as they were flooded with the harsh light of the warm sun. He scooched himself so that he was still lying on his side but so that his head was resting against the hard planes of Sirius’ thigh, nuzzling into the soft skin half covered by his swim shorts which stopped at his mid thigh.

“You’re starting to get sunburned Jamie, can’t have our pretty boy getting hurt,” You explained to him the reason for your disturbance, returning your hand to his hair as he inched up the material of Sirius’ shorts to press kisses to his leg.

You felt Sirius shiver from behind you at the contact of James’ pretty lips on some of his most sensitive skin and you found his hand, interlacing your fingers to give him a squeeze.

“But the sun feels good,” James countered between kisses pressed to Sirius’ leg, not going higher or lower, just dancing around the circumference, tracing where the bottom of the shorts would usually sit.

“I know it does,” You agreed, gazing down at one of your three beautiful boys, “But how about you lay on your back for a little bit, let your tummy get some sun and then we’ll put on more sunscreen and hopefully by that time we’re done Rem will be done and we can go in the water.”

“Hmph,” James looked up at you, he was positioned in such a way that sunlight danced through his hazel irises, making him appear even more ethereal than usual, his tan skin glowing in the mid afternoon sun. He was the picture of effortless beauty.

It was unfair how easily the boy tanned, it was something Sirius in particular was envious of but as he positioned himself so that his lips were pressed to the shell of your ear, “He’s gorgeous isn’t he?”

“Breathtaking,” You nodded, only breaking your eyes away from James’ face when his eyes flitted back down to the thigh he used as a pillow, resuming his dusting of feather light kisses. “Just as breathtaking as you are,” Twisting your neck you were nose to nose with Sirius, pale skin stretched across his angular features shimmered beautifully in the sun, like someone had dusted glitter along his skin in his sleep making him look almost god like.

Your eyes flickered from his unnaturally ruby red lips to his grey eyes where you noticed a smear of black makeup beginning at the corner of his eye. You lifted your hand to your mouth, licking the pad of your thumb, before extending out from the corner of the boy’s eye where his eyeliner from earlier was smudged against his porcelain skin.

Allowing his eyes to flutter closed Sirius leaned into your touch and you felt your heart swell, there had been a point during your relationship with the three men where you reaching for his face would’ve caused him to flinch and back away, and even if your hand had somehow managed to make it to his face he would’ve sat there awkwardly and rigid until you pulled away.

But this comfort was a demonstration of the trust that had formed, not just between the two of you but all four of you, even if one member was absent at the moment.

“There we go,” You murmured, pulling your hand back to your lap, though Sirius followed it, not wanting to break contact with you until the las possible second.

“Better now?”

“Much.”

Casting your gaze back down at the near comatose form of one of your other boyfriends you frowned as James had still yet to shift so that his back wasn’t exposed to the sun.

Though Sirius pretended not to care as much as you he too noticed the pinkish tint James’ skin was starting to take on. Resting one of his hands, stronger than yours, on James' face he began rubbing small circles on his cheek, occasionally running his fingers through the other boy’s hair to keep it out of his way.

“She’s right Jamesie,” His low baritone sounded, “Don’t need you with a sunburn so roll over for us, can put your head right back in my lap, just want you to be okay.”

“But m’comfy,” The other boy protested into Sirius’ thigh, saliva spilling out onto the hard canvas of muscle.

Knowing that if James wasn’t going to listen to you or Sirius there was one person whose opinion would matter you spoke, “Can’t have Remmy worrying about you Jamie,” You implored gently, “We’re out here to help him relax,”

You were right, with the full moon in a matter of days Remus had been high strung, constantly fidgeting, lost in his head, spacing out during class while also hyper fixating on the most minute of details. The boy was a tightly wound mess and desperately just needed a relaxing afternoon with his three favorite people.

If he even had an inkling that one of you was anything other than completely fine he would focus all of his energy in on that, forgetting the real reason you were supposed to be out there together.

It was those words that seemed to reach James and had him turning over onto his back so that the back of his head was now cradled in his hands which were interlocked and resting upon Sirius’ thigh, his strong, muscled legs kicked out underneath him, his ankles crossed.

You allowed your eyes to run up and down James’ impressive form, thighs just as beautiful, but more defined that Sirius’ but hidden behind a pair of coral swim trunks. His abs were without a doubt the most defined out of all four of you, like his thighs this part of his physique could be attributed to countless hours on the Quidditch pitch, training him and his team ruthlessly, pushing every physical boundary. It had obviously paid off as the strong muscles of his biceps and triceps flexed as he had his arms positioned to prop his head up.

Flicking your glance behind you you noticed that Sirius was appreciating the view just as much as you were, and who could really blame you? James was gorgeous, and he was all yours just as the stunnig boy behind you was.

Once again pushing yourself out of Sirius’ lap you used your hands to stabilize your body on the ground, your palms pressed flat against the soft material of the towel that was laid out underneath you so that your face was mere inches above James. You didn’t even bother waiting for him to close his eyes before you were melding your lips with his, closing your eyes in contentment as you felt his lips fall open for yours, his tongue peeking out to trace your soft cushions.

Reaching a hand up to cup your jaw James used it to pull your face down closer towards his. You released a muffled “umph” as you were forced to drop from your hands to your forearms to support yourself comfortably and James gently took your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping gently as he deepened the kiss.

Before you could reciprocate, matching his passion, there were another pair of strong hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you away from James’ lips and out of Sirius’ lap.

You let out a high pitched shriek at the sudden, unexpected motion and with what appeared to be minimal effort the hold on you shifted from your waist to supporting you under the bend of your knees and the small of your back.

Not being alarmed as the deep laughter that erupted from the figure was not only familiar but reassuring, you rested your head against Remus’ chest, having recognized him instantly. Inhaling deeply the scent of the thin t-shirt he’d thrown on before making his way down to the lake after finishing his prefect duties you knew that it was no doubt either Sirius’ or James’ as the three boys rarely ever wore their own shirts, always preferring each other’s.

“Hi Rem,” You smiled, gazing up at his visage from your place in his arms, you squinted because his head was positioned directly in front of the sun, making it look like there was a brilliant halo glowing around him.

“Hi baby, I missed you,” He cooed down at you, pressing a sweet and simple peck to your puckered lips before rising back up to his full height, still cradling you in his arms.

“You can put me down now Remmy,” You giggled, not satisfied with the brief kiss he’d given you, you clasped his jaw similarly to the way James had yours to bring his lips back down to yours.

But once again, much to your chagrin, he kept the kiss short, no matter the firm hand you kept on his jaw, perhaps even shorter than the last once before pulling away and setting you down softly on the ground, taking great care to ensure you were balanced before letting go of his hold on you.

“Neither of those were real kisses,” You complained, resting your hand against his chest, your head at a near ninety degree angle to look up at the male who towered over you.

“No?” He asked teasingly.

Rising to the bait you answered, “No.”

“Don’t whine baby,” Sirius chimed in from where he laid, still lounging upon the ground, “Remmy’s had a very exhausting day (Y/N), can’t blame him if his kissing isn’t what it usually is.”

Pushing himself up off the ground Sirius sauntered over to where you and Rem stood, making a show as he carelessly flinging his arms around Remus’ neck.

“Now come on Remus,” He ordered with a false arrogance, “Carry me to the water!” Letting his head fall back dramatically he stood there expectantly but was met only with Remus’ light laughter as he ducked out from under the smaller boy’s arms.

“I don’t think so Pads,” Remus said as pulled off his shirt, you grinned at the seemingly unimportant action but just as Sirius trusting you to touch him made your heart soar so did this. Remus proudly and carelessly displaying all of the beautiful scars that decorated his chest made you so proud of the progress the four of you had all made together.

“Get Jamie to carry you,” Once again lifting you into his arms Remus pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Already got my arms full.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby @pinkandblueblurbs @st0nesnglitter @miraclesoflove @priii @wholebigboxofyikes @advictedtohim @gubleryum @temporaryissue @emmaev @zzzfour @itsmentalillness

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Bouquet

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having come clean about being single for a very long time now and considering herself completely out of the dating scene, Y/N’s confession is taken and responded to with a ton of kindness, especially from a special someone...

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was such a joy to write! I’m so sorry for the long wait you had to go through but the fic is finally here and I hope you enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

I roll out of bed with little to no desire to start my day. We haven’t got a scheduled stream for today and the clouds glooming in the sky seem to be promising rain so really what do I have to get up for except that it’s a rule society installed?

Just kidding, I’m basically stalling and that’s all.

So what happened was the streamer gang and I were playing Among Us last night and our conversation during the pause between rounds somehow swerved into relationship territory. I stayed quiet the majority of if not all the time because I had no valid input to offer.

If you know me you know I’m not one of the performers on the dating scene. I have never really confirmed it with my fans - well, until last night, that is - but I bet they have picked up on that fact considering I’ve been on YouTube for around a decade and have never had a partner. That being said, I’d have to also mention that I have in fact dated but someone but it was before my YouTube era started. Me choosing this career path, which back then was just a hobby, had nothing to do with the relationship ending but it still motivated me to not to actively look for a relationship while I’m still focused on my career. It’s too much work, too much stress and requires a lot of balance I most certainly either don’t have or I don’t have the energy to put in balancing my romantic and professional lives. Luckily, no one’s ever pressured me into finding a significant other, not yet at least, so no societal pressure for me!

But I gotta admit I felt real awkward admitting all this last night.

“Hey Y/N what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet?“ Rae asks, causing me to jolt in my seat from where I’ve been reading my chat for the past five minutes, my mic muted.

I quickly unmute to reply, blushing ever so slightly, “Um, sorry I was reading my chat. What do I think about what?”

“The gesture of giving flowers to your significant other, is it romantic or a waste of money and plant murder?“ Rae explains, still managing to catch me off-guard with her question.

I ponder what my response should be for a little bit before deciding to level it to a neutral level where I almost sound indifferent, “It is in fact plant murder basically and artificial flowers would definitely be a better gift - plus they’ll last longer.”

“Mhmm yeah that’s true.“ Poki agrees with me, “But there’s still the question of whether it’s a romantic gesture or not. I personally don’t think it’s overrated or cheesy, I actually quite like it. What about you, Y/N?“

And now she’s got me in a real trap that I can’t wiggle out of without speaking my truth. I don’t know where this sudden anxiety around the subject came from but it now resides within me rent free and makes me feel self-conscious and embarrassed of the confession I’m inevitably make.

“Um, I wouldn’t know for certain, I’ve never received flowers myself...“ I say sheepishly, cringing at the sound of my own voice, “It’s not like I’ve dated plenty of people and the one guy I did date wasn’t really romantic or anything, I mean - we were teenagers, after all. But when I think about it in theory I think I’d like the gesture: it’s thoughtful, plus you get a temporary but beautiful piece of décor out of it.“

I’m gonna hope I didn’t sound too pitiful or desperate. Of course I’m not gonna check afterward on the stream cause I’d rather live in the illusion of having sounded humorous rather than be given the confirmation that I didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, did you date your last boyfriend like a decade ago?“ Corpse is now the one talking and that makes me feel even more anxious. This is not the impression one would want to give to their crush, is it? Oh well, no turning back now.

“Correct.“ I reply with a laugh that I hope didn’t sound as nervous as it was.

“And you’ve never, like in your whole life, received flowers from someone?“ He sounds astonished which sort of makes me want to shrink up in my shell like a turtle. Too bad I don’t have a shell though. I’m genuinely thinking of the option to rip the router out of the outlet right now to save me the troubles but I’m not that immature. I’m surprised I’m even reacting this way - this topic doesn’t usually bother me at all but now for some reason I’m red as a tomato and shrinking in my chair.

I know what the obvious answer is but I’d rather die than admit to it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds bad but I really don’t care.“ I make an attempt at changing the subject, swerving it back to the main topic rather than my lack of a love life, “I do, in fact, find the gesture sweet - it adds vibrancy to the relationship just like the flowers would add vibrancy and color to the space they’re put in.“

“Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool analogy!“ Rae gushes, “You’re totally right, it might be an old trick, but it’s aged like fine wine.“

Phew, God bless you Rae.

“Exactly, exactly.“ Corpse agrees as well but I don’t think he’s fully heard what Rae said since he sounds to have fallen in deep thought.

At least I got away with it with only making a SLIGHT nervous wreck of myself.

Yikes, was that horrible, though I don’t people will remember it for long. Sure, my fans have sent me thousands of lovely messages and pictures of bouquets and will maybe continue sending them for another day or two - which I highly appreciate, don’t get me wrong. I’m severely touched by this gesture of theirs and it almost makes me glad I finally ‘came clean’ about my romance-less life - however, it’ll fade overtime. I mean, who the heck cares if I’m single or not?

As I pour the milk over my cheerios which I’ve been snacking on dry for the past half hour as I rifled through the many notifications clogging up my lock screen, I hear the doorbell ring. I’m understandably puzzled by this, seeing as how I never get visitors so that doorbell rings only when I’ve ordered something, be it takeout or a random item off Amazon. However, I can’t remember ordering anything, at least not anything that should be arriving at the moment or even anytime soon - that glow-in-the dark curtain isn’t supposed to arrive until next week. I make my way to the door, unbothered by the fact I’m still in my pajamas, and take a look through the peephole.

It’s a delivery guy...and he happens to be holding a huge-ass bouquet.

“What the...“ I mutter to myself as I unlock and swing open the door in the blink of an eye, “Hi?“

“Hi there, are you Y/N L/N?“ The delivery guy, who I’ve seen many times before and who I’m on pretty friendly terms with, asks me jokingly, sending a wink my way.

“I sure am.“ I reply, my gaze fixated on the breathtaking flowers he’s holding, “But those can’t be for me, that’s for sure.“

He fishes looks at his clipboard one more time, nodding before he looks back at me, “I double and triple checked, Y/N, they’re for you. Here, have a look if you don’t believe me.” He turns the clipboard for me to see and he is actually telling the truth. I mean, I doubt he’d have any reason to lie to me but mix-ups happen all the time.

“Um, ok thanks. Sorry for the halt, it’s just...I’d hate to be the recipient of the flowers meant for another girl.” I apologize as I take the bouquet for him, still in awe of the fact I’m the one it was made and meant for and sent to.

I say a quick ‘bye’ to the delivery guy before practically running inside to inspect this bouquet for a card from the sender. I have my guesses: it has to be someone who was present during the stream last night and someone who knows my address. Hopefully it’s someone from my friend group and not a fan who watched the stream and just happens to know my address. I’d still appreciate the gesture, but I’d also install security cameras if that was the case.

Something about the color scheme of the flowers - pink and black - gives me Rae vibes since she constantly teases me about my aesthetics contradicting each other. But then again, Poki does it too so it could be her as well....

Oh...OH GOD IT’S NEITHER OF THEM

~ ~ ~

I’ve been sitting here, keeping myself a safe distance from my phone so I’m not the first one to send her a text. So I don’t ask if she got what I sent her. So I don’t ask what she thought of it, how the bouquet looks in her living room, how it smells, how it makes her feel. I have so many questions so that phone is best off at a major distance from me. I’m the one who’s better off with such a huge distance between me and the device, to be perfectly honest.

Was it a bad idea? Should I have slept on it - or just thought about it longer cause sleep and I don’t get along? Should I have at least waited a day or two? Should I-

My phone vibrates with a notification and I practically fly to it from across the room, grabbing it and unlocking it asap. My heart sinks and takes off like a rocket simultaneously when I see I’ve been tagged in Y/N’s Instagram story. I nervously tap the notification that sends me to the picture of the bouquet I sent her with some text written over it.

“Thank you, Romeo ;)“

Somehow that one sentence answers all those aforementioned questions.

Is this what people refer to as butterflies in one’s stomach? Cause it feels significantly more like a crush...oh wait.

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labarch · 4 years ago

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Attempt at a Witch Hat Atelier timeline

We are still missing a lot of backstory for our main cast, but I thought I’d try and write a timeline based on what we know so far, and explore where their storylines might intersect.

I am pulling these numbers out of my hat for convenience sake, but here are some approximate ages for the characters: at the start of the manga, let’s say Coco, Tetia and Agott are all 12, Riche is 11, and Qifrey and Olruggio are 28.

20-23 years ago: Olruggio leaves his birth town Godley and moves to the Great Hall, maybe as young as 5 years old.

While many witches are born in the Great Hall, Olruggio comes from a town called Godley in the North. Yet he doesn’t remember Utowin, who came from the same place. We know that young witches usually start their training between the age of 7 and 10, but since witch society is awfully elitist, Olruggio would have been sent there as soon as his talent for magic became apparent.

Being ripped from his home at an extremely young age could explain his fear of being unwanted and left behind: he overworks himself as a way to feel useful and validated, is defensive about his own feelings, and he gets agitated and sometimes aggressive whenever Qifrey hides things from him.

20 years ago: arrival of Qifrey at the Great Hall at age 8. Olruggio befriends him soon afterwards. The both of them start sneaking out at night to chase Brimhats.

8 year old Qifrey was one fierce little thing, you have to give him that. His abuse at the hands of the Brimhats was brutal enough to break a grown man, but he picks himself up and goes right after them like “Alright jerks, you’ve got some explaining to do and I want my eyeball back!”.

Also it cracks me up that Olruggio was carrying this massive book in their flashback. Gotta love that his reaction to Qifrey’s “Let’s go chase some terrorists!” was “Sure, let me just pack my homework =>”.

Finally, there might be a slightly more selfish motivation for Olruggio’s fast friendship and devotion to Qifrey. Olruggio’s self-esteem lies in his ability to help people, so he would naturally be drawn to someone helpless. It’s unclear how much of Qifrey’s memory was missing: apparently he didn’t know about birthdays. How many other basic concepts was he missing? Did he know how to read? Between that, his lack of knowledge about magic and his injury, he was probably completely dependent on Olruggio at the beginning. Given Olruggio’s wish that they go back to “the good old times” when they were always together, I am wondering whether some hidden part of him misses being essential to someone. It’s well-intentioned, but not entirely healthy, especially if he is using Qifrey as a coping mechanism for his own insecurities.

14 years ago: Olruggio and Qifrey make a pledge of (betrothal) friendship, exchange tassels and attempt the Librarian test at age 14. It is their last adventure together, but Qifrey will continue his investigations on his own, to Olruggio’s disappointment and betrayal. Qifrey starts wearing his half-tinted glasses.

In the pledge flashback, they are wearing their old tassels, but they have swapped them by the time they undertake the third test. Also, when he remembers that pledge, Olruggio says that Qifrey’s investigation “should have ended at the Tower of Books”. The tower is the last likely place where Qifrey could have found answers about his past and a non-forbidden way of getting his eye back. Olruggio probably made him promise that he would stop his search afterwards.

Beldaruit says that he thought Qifrey had given up on his search after the third test, but Olruggio tells a slightly different story. Apparently he thought Qifrey “finally stopped causing trouble” after taking in apprentices, which means he was still behaving suspiciously right up until he became a teacher. Alaira also comments on Qifrey’s interest in the Brimhats in the first volume, so clearly his investigations were common knowledge among his friends, even as an adult.

Olruggio’s anger whenever the Brimhats are mentioned would then be caused not just by his own fear of forbidden magic, but by the reminder that Qifrey broke his promise to him, and refused to leave his past behind. Naturally, Olruggio doesn’t know about Qifrey’s change in circumstances: he is no longer looking to retrieve what he lost, but trying to stop an impending threat.

Qifrey’s discoveries in the Tower of Books also seem to have renewed his disgust towards his own scar: he starts wearing glasses shortly afterwards, even though his eyesight hasn’t yet started deteriorating.

14-5 years ago: in that interval, Coco’s father dies of illness. Olruggio becomes more and more famous for his magical items, and is given the title “Shining Torch” / “Master of Lights”. His glowstone paths become widely popular, and are installed around the castle near Coco’s mom. Both Qifrey and Olruggio pass the fourth test and complete their training.

At this stage, I really doubt that Qifrey intended to become a teacher. Whatever information he found at the Tower of Books convinced him he had to stop the Brimhats’ plan. He was probably planning to complete his training and then go straight on to his quest, not really expecting to return alive.

There are also hints that this was a strained period for Qifrey and Olruggio: Olruggio mentions that he would like them to confide in each other “just like old times”, which implies that they grew more distant after the Librarian test. I’m suspecting that Qifrey was trying to slowly remove himself from Olruggio’s life, hoping Olruggio would be so famous and beloved by the time they graduated that he would forget about Qifrey and barely notice his disappearance. Qifrey’s self-esteem isn’t the best y’all.

5 years ago: Coco receives the magic picture book from Iguin at age 7 at the Silver Night Festival. The Brimhats stop showing signs of activity. Qifrey takes on his first apprentice (probably Tetia, age 7). He interrupts his investigation of the Brimhats and creates the atelier. Olruggio becomes his Watchful Eye.

We don’t know exactly how old Coco was when she got her book, but her tiny chubby face makes me think she was 6-7. Alaira also tells us in the first volume that the incident with Coco’s mother is the first sign of Brimhat activity in five years. I am thinking that after Iguin gave away the book, he instructed the other Brimhats to keep a low profile until his scheme could hatch.

I also wonder whether Coco getting her book might coincide with Qifrey becoming a teacher and creating his atelier. Given that Qifrey is probably tied to Iguin’s schemes, how coincidental is it that Qifrey wandered into Coco’s village and set her fate in motion? Perhaps Iguin contrived for them to live in the same area so that they would meet eventually. Either he somehow influenced Qifrey’s choice of location for his atelier, or he selected Coco as his “child of hope” because of her relative proximity as well as her love for magic.

7 years old is when we could expect Tetia to have passed the first test. For now we know little about her backstory, but we can guess a few things: she is enthusiastic and ambitious, but gets easily side-tracked by pet projects and struggles to stick to the curriculum. She craves positive feedback and is worried her spells and interests will be condemned as frivolous. It makes me think that she passed her first test early, but was then mistreated by her first teachers for being too childish.

We’ve seen that Qifrey has a compulsive tendency to adopt children in distress. It would fit his character if he became a teacher on impulse. Maybe he had to pass the fifth test in a rush to be allowed to keep Tetia by his side. This also brought Olruggio back into his life, as he was the only one willing to follow him away from the atelier as Watchful Eye.

The complicity between Tetia and Qifrey, and Tetia taking on the role of a big sister for both Riche and Coco, also make me think she was Qifrey’s first apprentice. Tetia is often shown teasing Qifrey, quoting both Qifrey and Olruggio, and imitating Qifrey’s teaching style: I can totally see them as a little family of three at some point in the past.

4 years ago: Riche starts training under her brother’s master, a creepy asshole, at age 7.

We actually have a clear timestamp for that one in chapter 25, woohoo! Riche’s old teacher can eat a brick.

3-2 years ago: Qifrey and Olruggio learn about Riche’s mistreatment in her old atelier and promptly adopt her. Beldaruit takes on Ririfin as an apprentice. Qifrey’s eyesight starts deteriorating. He adds the light protection glyph to his glasses.

Before that time, Qifrey might have intended to put his quest on hold until after Tetia’s graduation, but now his impending blindness puts him on a time limit. He can’t do a lot about it however, since the Brimhats have been keeping a low profile for years and are not leaving him any clue.

It’s unclear how long Riche stayed at her old atelier, and whether she joined Qifrey before or after Agott. I’m hoping she made it out as soon as possible.

2 years ago: Agott passes the first test at age 10. She gets accused of stealing someone else’s spell, is rejected from her prestigious family’s apprenticeship, and joins Qifrey’s atelier.

Agott has been treated harshly by her family for not being enough of a genius. She mentions passing the first test at 10, the upper end of the normal age range. She was probably given a hard time for starting her apprenticeship so “late”, which explains why she is now adamant about passing the other tests as quickly as possible.

I wonder whether she felt ambivalent about joining Qifrey’s atelier at first. On the one hand, Qifrey was taught by the Sage of Education himself and is clearly very powerful. On the other hand, he has only a couple students and lives in a weird little school in the middle of nowhere, a big fall from grace compared to her prestigious upbringing. I wonder whether Qifrey went to find her after he heard she was the object of nasty rumours (he knows a thing or two about those), and Agott didn’t feel like she had other options.

0 year ago: Coco and Qifrey meet. Iguin goes “F***ing finally, I thought I’d have to watch that humdrum one-eyed twink bake potatoes for another five years. It’s dragon-slaying time now baby!!!”

#witch hat atelier #witch hat meta #qifrey #olruggio #tbna #coco #riche #agott #everyone has a horrible time at the Great Hall: a wha timeline #Olruggio the wonder child arriving at the Great Hall at age 5 wrapped in an anxiety blanket and clinging to a plush toy #protect him #no mention of treefrey this time what are the odds

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Turns of Phrase

Prompt: I'd like you to consider: all the sides in the mindscape have the "way too literal" problem, like for example, Virgil actually grows taller when his anxiety is heightened, Patton actually grows wings when Thomas has a 'heart aflutter', e.c.t. But Roman just has a huge stack of negative ones. Creative block, bruised ego, shackled creativity, e.c.t. And then there's h/c when somebody (Logan) sees 👀👀

Thanks for the prompt babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues, Roman whump

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 5722

This is Roman’s fault. Really. It is. He’s the one who works the closest with the Imagination, which means he’s got control over how Thomas interacts with his own imagination, which means that he’s got control over how Thomas sees the Sides.

So yeah. This is his fault.

‘Heart all aflutter.’ ‘Heightened anxiety.’ ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’ All the little innocuous phrases that are just turns of phrase, not supposed to be literal, well…they got into Thomas’s head when he was younger, and since, the Imagination has never quite gotten rid of them. Shouldn’t be too bad, right, this should be something they can deal with.

And for the most part, they do.

Patton wears the hoodie tied around his shoulders to block the chill from the slits sewn in the back of all of his shirts in case the wings decide to pop out again. When they do, everyone crowds around to make sure he doesn’t fly off into the sky or accidentally twist one. The feathers are the softest things you can imagine and work great for stuffing pillows or plushies.

Virgil’s clothes are made of stretchy, baggy material and the doorways are much, much higher than they need to be. There’s a special cupboard tucked high up in the pantry that just has Virgil’s comfort foods in them so he can reach comfortably when he’s tall.

And, well…there’s a reason Janus wears such a long cloak.

For the most part, these are just minor inconveniences. Listen, when you live in a completely imaginary world where you can summon anything you need and change anything you don’t like with a snap of your fingers, things like new clothes or snacks are easy.

Then there’s Roman.

Roman, who is tied most closely to the Imagination.

Roman, who represents not just Creativity, but romance, motivation, desire.

Roman. The Ego.

The problem with throwing around these types of phrases is how easy it becomes to dismiss them. And for Thomas, who has a creative profession, that’s good. For Thomas.

Not so good for Roman.

“Hey, you’ve been having some trouble getting ideas out lately, you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just going through a bit of a creative block at the moment.”

Roman’s fists ache as he pounds on the door, heaving sobs trailing off into hitched gasps as he slumps against the unyielding wood. As a desperate last resort, he throws himself at the door, barely making it shudder in its frame. It’s as if he weighs nothing, not an ounce, unable to make so much as a goddamn dent in the world around him.

“Let me—let me out, please, let me out, I gotta—I want out,” he sobs, over and over, as his room grows smaller and smaller, the walls pressing in around him, blank, sterile, cold, “I wanna—out, let me out, let me out, let me out please—“

He’s not even in his room anymore. He’s in a pure white cage, on the wrong side of a door that will not open.

“Dude, like…reign it in a little bit.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. That’s…like, way too much.”

“I dunno, I think it feels weird if we weren’t doing this.”

“C’mon, it won’t kill you to shackle your creativity a little.”

Roman wakes up to the quiet clinking of metal against metal. He goes to wipe his face and a bolt of pain shoots through his arm. The shackles spread him so far his chest aches, wincing as he tries to turn just a little to avoid the rush of agony that would come from having his arm trapped in the wrong position. At least he was lying down this time, and he’s on his bed. He isn’t being forced to stand the whole time, strung up on the ceiling.

They’re so cold.

The shackles sap the warmth from his body bit by bit, draining it until the weight of the cold pressing down onto his chest is enough to make him gasp. On instinct, he pulls, trying to get a little more of himself wrapped up, warm, safe, but the chains barely make a groan as they wrench him back apart. He grits his teeth and holds still.

He learned not to try and break these. He used to rage and slam against them like a brute, trying to pull their fastenings out of some mystical holder, embodied in his wall, only to come away with bleeding and scraped wrists from his pains, rubbed raw and chafed horribly by the cruel shackles.

For the most part, he’s able to keep the others from noticing. They can’t hear a thing when he’s trapped in the creative block. He’s careful to always wear long sleeves to hide the scrapes and burns from the shackles. They don’t know the true extent of what happens to him when Thomas decides he doesn’t want his creativity.

But he can’t hide all of them.

‘Bruised ego.’

Patton knows. Patton somehow always figures things out and doesn’t tell anyone, least of all Roman. But sure enough, after the audition, Patton showed up outside of Roman’s door and knocked, quietly asking to be let in.

Roman had let him, splattered as he was with blues and purples and greens and yellows, all the colors that didn’t belong to him, and yet here they were, painted on him. He’d kept his undershirt on, letting Patton feed him the soup that was sure to end with Roman lying on his back in the bathroom, panting, until the bowl had run dry and Roman’s smile had come back.

After Patton had gone, the smile had slid off, the paint cracked and chipped. Roman had stood, leaning against the bed for stability, and made his way slowly, oh, so, slowly, to the bathroom.

Getting his shirt off had been agony. Every time he moved skin had stretched, bruises had protested, even his muscles cried out. The undershirt was soaked in sweat and a light sheen had clung to Roman’s body as he stood there, panting, wincing in the mirror. He couldn’t look.

That had been the last time it had gotten very bad. Very bad.

They only ever seemed to notice when it was very bad.

His prince costume hides the shackle marks. His undershirt hid the bruises. No one cared to look for him when he was trapped in the creative block. No one could see. No one wanted to see.

No one knew.

Roman’s been lucky lately.

They’ve all been happening one at a time. The block never has shackles strapped to the wall. The shackles are never clasped around bruises spilling beneath his skin. The bruises are never from both beating on a door and from the outside world. He can deal with them if they’re like this. One at a time.

He’s had a few close calls, though. He almost missed a meeting with Logan because the block had him trapped. It squeezed him so tight it felt as if he hadn’t any room to breathe, not until the door and opened a crack and he’d hurled himself out, panting harshly, rushing to Logan’s. He was caught at his desk recently too. The shackles had formed and dragged him over to the corner where he’d bitten his lip to try and stay quiet as he desperately tried to draw himself away. He’d accidentally made too grand a gesture and his sleeve had ridden up, exposing the edge of a mark or bruise and he’d have to pull it back down quick enough so that no one would notice. And so far, it’s worked.

No one has noticed.

And what would he say? That this is just some dumb stupid thing he has to deal with? The others know about this whole ‘taking things too literally problem,’ look at Patton, look at Virgil, look at Janus. They all understand and they receive the same amount of attention Roman does. Honestly, they’ve been receiving what they’re entitled to. Their stuff actually runs the risk of harming Thomas. Fire, wings, banging your head, sure, that’s fine, but they—look.

Having your heart flutter signifies great emotions, the potential for love, you should pay attention to your emotions!

Heightened anxiety? It’s not great! It means we should be listening to Virgil and what’s going on, what’s upsetting Thomas, how to help.

And everyone should always be worried about spontaneously combusting pants.

And even if they did find out, what is Roman supposed to say? That it’s his fault they all have these issues? That Thomas’s psyche takes certain liberties with the hard-and-fast rules of what happens to metaphysical people? It’s his fault, after all, he’s the conduit. It’s fine. He can handle this stuff. It’s all fine.

He should’ve known his luck would run out.

Roman blinks awake to feel the walls pressing in on him, tighter, tighter, tighter. His breath catches in his throat.

No.

No, no, no, he’d been doing so well, so well, they’d just had a conversation about how he’d been so good, the ideas had been good, he’d had—he’d had so many he was ready to work on, he just needed to—

Roman squeezes his eyes shut, racking his brain. He knows he has ideas. He had them a little while ago. It wasn’t that long. They can’t have vanished so quickly. Wait, what time is it? How did they—how long has he been here? What is—how long has it been? Have the others realized he’s here yet?

What if they look for him and they think he won’t come out? What if they start to hate him because they can’t find him? What if he can never get out again? What if they realized they never needed him in the first place?

He—he’s not wrong, he can’t be wrong, he has to be right, he has to—he has to find a way out of here.

Quickly, Roman squeezes his eyes even tighter, mouth making random shapes as he tries to think. If he can just think of a really good idea, he’ll get out. If he just thinks, if he just does his job, if he’s really good he’ll get out. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this. He can—

Clink, clink, clink.

No.

No!

Roman snarls as the shackles encase his wrists, forcing to his knees, still crouched in this room that is too small, too pale, too awful. He lunges for the door as he hears the chains slowly start to tighten, their long lengths slipping over and over each other in coils.

The chains pull taut and he’s suspended there, in the dank air, snarling like a mad dog at a door that is just out of his reach.

For the first time in a long time, he slams against the chains, raging and bloody as he thrashes back and forth trying to just get to the door—

Roman, you’re on thin fucking ice.

Look I don’t wanna just hate a side but roman you royally fucked up bud

Yeah I’m definitely mad at Roman

Roman barely suppresses a whine when he realizes where the comments are coming from.

His nose breaks open and blood pours down his face. His eyes swell and darken until he can only squint through it. One of his fingers breaks and the shackle pinches.

Roman I have revoked your rights.

Roman shut the FUCK UP challenge please

After one line making fun of janus is enough to be cancelled, Roman

Even without looking down, he knows red and purple are blooming across his ribs. Roman winces pain as he howls again, trying frantically to get to the door, he’ll wrench his arms out of their sockets if he needs to—

I just hate roman!!! i don’t need a deep reason to hate roman, or anyone else

oh boi did Princey drop to least favorite side REAL FUCKING QUICK

It’s not that I don’t despise Roman he’s just never been my favourite. He’s too prideful, rude and while he does have his insecurities the way he hides them makes me uncomfortable since it’s at the expense of other characters. His treatment of the other sides is so awful.

…is he really that awful? Is…does he…is this…

Is this how it’s supposed to be?

I'm gonna spread my anti-roman doctrine. Fuck Roman. Hate that man

I genuinely hate Roman so. Fucking. Much. Like, can't stand him. Fuck him, I hate him

It’s always roman-hating hours.

A dry sob chokes its way out of Roman’s throat as he curls in on himself, another bruise leaving him gasping on the floor like a gutted fish. The chains let him fall to his knees, chest bared to the merciless door. He coughs. Blood flies out of his mouth and spittle drips down his chin. He coughs again. And again. And again. It hurts. Everything hurts.

He coughs.

The room presses in on him.

The shackles trap him.

Bruises bloom over his body.

He coughs.

This is all his fault, isn’t it? He’s the one in charge of the Imagination. He’s the one who makes sure the sides exist and can interact with Thomas. He’s the one who controls how they respond to turns of phrase.

He’s the one who’s awful to the others. He’s the one who didn’t tell them the truth. He’s the one stuck in this room, in these chains, taking a beating from words and thoughts that he can’t see.

This is his fault.

And he doesn’t know if he can fix it.

Roman gives up.

———————————————————

“Has anyone seen Roman?”

Patton looks up from the floor as Virgil rolls over. “No, I haven’t. Virgil?”

Virgil sniffs and shakes his head. “You asked Remus?”

Logan frowns. “I can’t find them anywhere. Do you know if—“

“Where the fuck is my brother?”

“Nevermind, I found him,” Logan mumbles as he turns just fast enough to avoid Remus barreling into him. “I was just coming to ask you.”

“He was supposed to meet me by the Imagination,” Remus says, bouncing up and down, “we were gonna go exploring. He hasn’t been by all day. Where are you hiding him?”

“I’m not hiding him,” Virgil yawns, “and neither’s Pat.”

“Nope! No princes here!”

“Pocket Protector?”

“No, I need to ask him about tomorrow.”

“Ugh.” Remus throws himself down on the couch. “Where’s Snakey? Maybe he knows.”

“What do I know?”

“Ah.” Logan turns to see Janus striding out from the shadows near the staircase. “We seem to be unable to locate Roman.”

Janus raises an eyebrow and flicks a speck of dust from his gloves. “What an unfortunate situation. My deepest apologies.”

“So you don’t know where he is.”

“Of course I don’t, why would I?” Janus rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you’ve checked everywhere for him.”

Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Janus…please.”

“Have any of you even tried his room?”

“Of course we have, that’s where I looked first.”

Janus shrugs. “Then I guess our little prince has wandered away. What a shame.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Maybe he just stepped out for a minute. Why don’t you go look again, L, we’ll check down here.”

“Oh, will we?”

“J, I swear—“

Logan quickly heads back up the stairs as Virgil and Janus start bickering. He turns the corner and is soon faced with Roman’s big red door. He reaches out to knock.

“Roman? Are you in here?”

Silence. Logan sighs and goes to turn away when he hears it.

He stops.

Goes back.

“Roman?”

He puts his ear to the door.

A soft gasp.

“Roman, can you open the door please?”

“L-L—Lo—“

Logan swallows heavily. “Roman, I’m coming inside.”

“L-Logan…”

Logan pushes open the door.

He can feel his face go sickly pale.

Roman is lying on the ground, collapsed in a pool of what looks like blood. His face is swollen, his nose broken, his mouth barely forming the shapes to say Logan’s name. His prince costume is mangled. His wrists are rubbed raw. Even from this far away Logan can see the bruises forming all over his body.

“Roman!”

There are shouts from downstairs. The others are worried. Good. Logan’s going to need all the help he can get. He just has to move first.

Oh, Roman…

“L? L, what’s going on up there?”

“First aid,” Logan gasps, then clears his throat, “we need the first aid kit! Roman’s hurt!”

“What? How’d he—he hasn’t even been in the Imagination yet today!”

“We can figure that out when we’re up there, Remus, go go go!”

By the time the others are already rushing up the stairs, Logan has already crouched down next to Roman’s head, trying to figure out the best way to get him up, off the floor, or at the very least figure out what happened.

“Stay with me, Roman,” he murmurs, petting Roman’s head as his other hand starts to carefully test where it might be hurting, “stay with me, come on…”

“Lo? Lo, are you in here?”

“No, wait, don’t—“

Patton’s cry of dismay quickly followed by Virgil’s curse means he’s too late to warn them. Logan looks up to see their faces drop in absolute shock.

“Where are the others?”

“Uh…” Virgil tears his gaze away from Roman’s crumpled figure. “Remus said he…he has some stuff that would help.”

“And I am of course more than eager to see what our favorite little prince has gotten himself into this time,” Janus drawls, still out of sight, “I’m positively brimming with anticipation.”

Patton still hasn’t recovered. Virgil carefully takes the first aid kit from his hands and rushes it to Logan. An instant later, Janus appears in the doorway.

“My, my, Patton, you look so startled, what could possibly…”

Janus trails off as he finally spots Roman. His eyes widen as he takes in the bruises, the blood, the marks of what look like prison cuffs?

“Oh, god…” Logan blinks and Janus is crouched beside them, his hands hovering over Roman’s broken form as he starts crooning to the prince.

“Oh, honey, what happened to you,” he murmurs, his hands starting to pull away the fabric cutting into Roman’s throat, “you poor, poor thing…”

“Got it.”

Remus appears in a flash, crouching down as well as Janus and Logan start to help Roman unwind from the bloody mess he’s in. Logan glances over; it’s a kit that has more medical supplies than the first aid kit. Bandages, he can see antiseptic, surgical towels…

He catches Remus’s eye and they exchange a nod.

“Where does he need to go,” Janus asks as they start to get Roman upright, “you want him downstairs?”

“Let’s get him to our bathroom, J,” Virgil suggests, carefully getting his arms around the prince’s shoulders.

“Do you think it’s safe to sink with him?”

“Presumably he had to sink out to get back to his room, but I’m not sure it would be wise.”

“So we’ll carry him,” Virgil says firmly, “all of us.”

As it turns out, Remus and Janus can help Virgil just fine. Logan snatches up Remus’s kit as Patton grabs the first aid kit, hustling down the corridor to keep up with the others.

“Lo, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Logan mutters back, “but I…I don’t think it was…the Imagination’s been closed all day, hasn’t it?”

“That’s what I thought too. You don’t think—“

“I don’t know, Patton, I…”

Patton’s firm grip on his arm speaks volumes as they finally get to the bathroom.

The tile is already warm as the others carefully lay Roman down in the big place near the edge of the shower. Logan takes a moment to check what they might need.

The bathroom is one big open space with a tub in one corner, a large walk-in shower area at the other, and two sinks with a wide counter. Patton and Remus have already started setting up the first aid kit as Janus pulls on a different pair of gloves. Virgil still has Roman’s head in his hands, murmuring softly to him.

“Is he awake?”

Virgil shakes his head as Logan sits down. “I can’t tell. He’s looking around but I—he’s not saying anything.”

“That is not completely unexpected,” Logan murmurs, “we have to get him out of his clothes. They’re making it harder for him to breathe.”

“Someone needs to stay by his head,” Remus calls, “in case he wakes up and starts freaking out.”

“I’ve got him.” Sure enough, Janus slips two of his hands gently under Roman’s head as he unclips the back of his collar. “Shh, shh, easy, sweetie, you’re safe now.”

Virgil scoots back and starts tugging on his hoodie strings. Patton, still hovering by the medical supplies, catches it.

“Hey, Virge,” he says, shooting a quick nod at Logan, “why don’t we go make something to eat? Something small, and something to drink.”

“Yeah…yeah that’s a good idea.”

As the two of them leave, Remus kneels by Roman’s feet and curses. “We’re gonna have to cut them off.”

“You mean cut the rest of them off,” Janus mutters, “what happened?”

“You think I’m not beating myself up asking that same thing?”

“We have to get Roman stable,” Logan says quickly, “and that means we have to see what—“

“The damage is,” Remus growls.

“Quite.”

“Alright. Be careful by his wrists.”

“We will.”

“Jan if you drop his head I swear to—“

“I won’t, I promise.”

“…I know.”

“You’re worried about your brother,” Logan whispers as they start peeling the clothes away, “we understand.”

Janus keeps his promise, cradling Roman’s head as the work to get the rest of his prince costume off. Under any other circumstance, Logan admits this might actually be read as amusing. Peeling Roman out of his clothes, however, has never been less devastating.

Every inch they pull back reveals more bruises. Roman’s torso is warm, throbbing, carpeted with horrible wounds. Every so often a piece will stick and Roman winces, prompting Janus to stroke his face carefully, murmuring reassurances that they’re here, everything’s okay, Roman’s safe now.

Remus chucks bruise cream at Logan and they start, methodically applying the cream and bandages. Janus gives them an extra hand where they need it, while keeping up the constant litany of reassurances. Logan comes away confident that nothing is broken, just very badly bruised.

“So what now?”

“He has to rest.” Logan pulls off the gloves, running his hand over the ground to make sure they haven’t spilled anything. “I…I don’t know how long that will be.”

“I don’t want to leave him.”

They look around, eyes wide at the strangled whisper coming out of Remus. Remus stares down at Roman’s bruised form, thankfully clear of blood now, his hands trembling as they rest on his knees. Remus looks up at them, his eyes glistening.

“The last time I left him like this it was bad.” He swallows and looks back down. “I’m not leaving my brother.”

Logan looks at Roman. Brave, strong, sweet, kind Roman. Bruised, scared, exhausted, broken Roman. His hand tightens and without thinking he tucks a stray hair behind Roman’s ear.

“He hates it when his hair is out of place,” he murmurs as Janus raises an eyebrow at him.

“We’re not leaving our prince,” Janus says firmly, glancing back at Remus. “Would you like to come sit up here with us?”

Remus shakes his head. “If something comes through that door trying to get him,” he says in a low voice that Logan has never heard before, “it’s going to have to get through me first.”

Logan nods. They take up their watch. Remus’s hands twitch every so often, and Logan sees him lay his hand on an unbruised part of Roman’s ankle when they do with a tenderness that takes him a little aback. Janus can’t seem to stop running his hands through Roman’s hair, making comforting noises every time Roman winces as he breathes.

Logan, well…Logan is trying desperately to figure out what happened.

Roman hasn’t been in the Imagination today. Remus was waiting and he hadn’t seen him.

Roman hasn’t been seen by anyone else all day.

The last place Roman was seen was in his room.

No one else has been in Roman’s room today.

“Logan,” Janus calls softly, “Logan, you’re shaking.”

Logan looks down. Oh. So he is. He takes a deep breath and takes Janus’s offered hand. “I’m…thinking.”

“About…?” Janus indicates Roman.

He nods sharply. “I’m having trouble coming to anything but a most troubling conclusion.”

“What?”

Logan explains. Janus goes pale.

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t want to think that, no.”

“R-ro-Bro,” Remus whispers, “oh, Ro-Bro, you gotta tell us something when you wake up.”

He sniffles.

“Please wake up, Ro-Bro. I gotta…I gotta kick your ass for blowing me off and getting into a fight without me, I gotta—you gotta tell me what kicked your ass so I can go put it in the fucking ground…” He sniffs again, his whole body tense, even as his hand remains gently on Roman. “You just gotta wake up, Ro.”

After a little while longer, Virgil and Patton return carrying snacks and drinks. Remus doesn’t even look as Virgil sets his octopus water bottle at his elbow. Janus murmurs a thanks and eats a little. Logan eats and drains about half of his bottle. Virgil sits at Remus’s side, Patton at his other.

“Has he woken up yet?”

Remus shakes his head.

“He’s probably just sleeping, Remus, he needs to rest.”

“I know.”

“Do we know what happened,” Virgil asks quietly, “at all?”

Logan winces. “Well…”

“…don’t like the way you said that.” Judging by Virgil’s expression, he likes it even less after Logan’s finished explaining.

“Oh, shit.”

Everyone’s gaze instantly snaps to Patton. Listen. Patton doesn’t curse. It’s a thing. When Patton curses it’s bad.

“Patton?”

“Roman…Roman has a thing,” Patton explains, “you know like…like my wings? Or how Virgil gets taller?”

Virgil nods. “Yeah, okay, but those don’t…hurt us, why would Roman’s…”

Janus is the next one to curse. “Of course…the bruised ego.”

Patton nods sadly. “Roman takes, well, it’s not really his choice, Roman is forced to take the brunt of the negative reactions Thomas has. That’s part of his thing.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “Wait, but if this has been happening since…well, since Thomas has had an ego, and we didn’t know about this, then…”

How many times has this happened?

Remus growls. “New rule: no one is allowed to fuck with Roman.”

No one dares disagree. Logan scans over the injuries again. He frowns.

“Hold on…some of these seem…consistent with that judgment, but then why…”

A faint groaning sound snaps him out of his musings. A tense silence falls in the bathroom as Roman starts to stir in Janus’s hands.

“Roman,” Logan calls softly, “Roman, can you hear me?”

“L’gan?”

“Yes, Roman, I’m right here. Don’t try and move too much right now, you’re very hurt.”

Roman blinks up at them, his eyes focusing glassily on Janus, who smiles. He tucks another piece of hair away from Roman’s face.

“Shh, shh, my prince, hold still,” he coos, “you’re awfully banged up, sweetie, just hold still…shh…”

“J’nus? What’s…where is…” Roman’s face swivels back to Logan. “Where am I?”

“You’re on the bathroom floor, Roman, we had to see to your injuries.”

Roman’s eyes go wide and immediately all of them reach out to hold him still as he tries to move.

“Shh, shh,” Janus shushes, “none of that now, sweetie, you’re hurt, calm down…”

“I’m—I have to—“

“You’re not going anywhere,” comes Remus’s voice from behind them.

“Remus!”

“What? He’s not!”

“Yeah, but there’s no reason to scare the shit out of him.”

“I can’t see,” Logan hears Roman’s frantic whisper as he turns to glance at the others, “I can’t—let me—“

“Logan, is it safe for him to sit up?”

Logan nods. “Just take it slow, nothing too fast. It will probably be the best if he can lean against someone.”

“Jan—“

“I’ve got you, sweetie, I’m not going anywhere.”

When Roman is upright, his back against Janus’s chest, only then do Virgil and Patton relax the slightest bit. Remus doesn’t. Logan’s gaze switches anxiously between the two.

“Remus—“ Roman swallows— “Re, are you—are you mad at me?”

“A little.”

Roman shrinks under Remus’s glare. “I’m sorry.”

“Jeez, Ro, it’s not—I’m not mad at you like that,” Remus mumbles, “it’s mainly just—well, our thing is…you know, cat pile.”

“You’re—you’re mad because you can’t lie on top of me right now?”

“Yeah! It always makes you feel better! And now I can’t help you feel better!”

“R-Re—“

Remus lets out a wounded noise and surges forward, careful to avoid barreling into any of the others as he wraps his brother in a protective hug. Janus huffs lightly but stays upright. Roman’s eyes close and his head drops to rest against Remus’s.

“I’m the only one allowed to fuck with you,” comes Remus’s muffled voice, “no one else.”

“I know,” Roman whispers, “I know.”

Logan swallows heavily. “Roman,” he prompts softly, “we aren’t mad at you. We won’t get angry with you.”

“...promise?”

“I promise.”

“Promise.

Janus just squeezes Roman’s shoulder gently. “I promise too, sweetie. Now, will you tell us what happened?”

“I, um…” Roman’s gaze flickers over to Patton. “Have you—um…”

“I’ve told them a little, sweetheart,” Patton says when Roman can’t finish his sentence, “we’ve figured out the ‘bruised ego,’ is there anything else you’d like to tell us?”

Roman nods. He turns his head back towards Remus, his face contorted. Logan carefully reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“Take your time,” he whispers, “we’re not going anywhere.”

“I have three,” Roman blurts out after a moment.

“…three, honey?”

“Patton has…the wings, Virgil has the height, Janus…Janus…”

“Has the pants.”

Janus lightly flicks Remus’s head, shaking his head fondly.

“Are you saying you’ve got three turns of phrase, Princey?” Roman nods. “Okay. Is one of them ‘bruised ego?’”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay. Are you comfortable telling us the other two?”

Goosebumps rise on Roman’s arms and Janus carefully positions them so Logan can help rub them away. Remus growls protectively and huddles closer.

“…creative block,” Roman murmurs, only for Remus to tense. Remus raises his head slowly.

“Ro-Bro?”

“I, um, my room—my room shrinks and I—I can’t get out the door, I can’t move anything, I can’t breathe, I—“

“Shh-shh-shh,” Janus soothes instantly, “you’re safe, my prince, you’re in the bathroom with us, you’re not there, you’re not there.”

There are a few tense seconds of deep breaths.

“…what’s the third one, Roman?”

Roman looks at his wrists, turning them over as if he doesn’t recognize them. “…shackled creativity.”

Patton clenches his fists as Virgil muffles another curse. Remus follows Roman’s gaze, the line of his shoulders growing tenser by the second. Janus carefully laces his fingers through one of Roman’s hands, Logan lacing his through the other.

“Thank you for telling us, Roman,” he murmurs, “and…I do not know how much this is worth to you, but…we are so sorry this happens and that we could not do anything about it.”

“It’s okay,” Roman murmurs, “it’s my own fault.”

The bathroom falls silent.

“…Roman, it’s not your fault.” Virgil scoots closer. “How—this isn’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it? I’m the one that’s the closest to the Imagination,” Roman says softly, completely convinced of what he’s saying, “I’m the one that makes it possible for Thomas to see us…the Sides, the Imagination…isn’t that my job?”

“Not like that,” Logan says firmly, “never like this.”

“Logan’s right,” Virgil says when it looks like Roman’s about to argue, “you’re the conduit for the Imagination, but you’re not responsible for everything that this place does, let alone how Thomas interprets and internalizes stuff.”

“None of this is you, Roman.” Janus rests his cheek against the top of Roman’s head. “None of it. It’s not Patton’s fault he grows wings, it’s not Virgil’s fault he grows taller, and it’s not your fault that this happens to you.”

“You’re missing someone off the list there, Jan-Jan.”

“Remus, I swear to god—“

Remus cackles, throwing his head back as Janus swats at him. Of course, the problem is that they all try and look mildly annoyed at Remus, and yet the instant it makes Roman giggle, even a little, they all have to break character because Roman’s smiling again.

“Seriously, Ro-Bro,” Remus says after a moment, “this isn’t on you. You don’t deserve this or some other fucked-up shit. This is fucked up all on its own. You’re not responsible for this.”

“We’ll talk to Thomas,” Logan says, “about…negative feedback and internalizing things, alright? This isn’t healthy, Roman, it’s not—it’s not supposed to be like this, and it’s definitely not your fault.”

“…okay.”

“Can you say that for me, sweetie,” Janus coaxes, reaching around to cup Roman’s face, “that it’s not your fault?”

“I-it’s not—“

Roman stops. Swallows heavily.

“Go on, my prince, you can do it.”

“…I-it’s not my fault.”

“Good.”

“It isn’t my fault.” Roman’s eyes go wide and something hitches in his throat. “It is—isn’t—I—oh, god—“

They catch Roman as he starts to cry.

“You did so well, sweetheart, so well, I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s okay, Princey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“I’ve got you, my prince, I have you.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Ro-Bro, I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

“You don’t have to do this alone, Roman.”

Roman rests there, in the arms of his family, bruised and exhausted, but not broken.

Not anymore.

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