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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 63]

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

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Let’s do some of this tonight.

Chapter 29

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

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

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

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though. What do you want to do?”

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

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

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

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

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

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

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

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

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

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

“This is not the main library,” Logan said when they entered. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.”

Virgil could tell just by listening closely for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

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

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

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

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

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

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

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

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patton screamed briefly before slapping a hand over his mouth.

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

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

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

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

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

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

Patton giggled.

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

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

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

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

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

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

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

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

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

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

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The same for me,” Logan said.

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

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

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

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

“Seedlings?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

“Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

“Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

“It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

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“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

#proofread stories #not writing

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sugarfreecapsicle · 6 years ago

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the library card

A/N: Okay so two of my faves had amazing challenges out: @cake-writes & @bitchassbucky and how could I not join?? Please go follow them, they are brilliant and lovely and all things good in the world. I am so grateful to know them both and to call them my friends. I hope you both enjoy!!

bitchassbucky’s holiday writing challenge

cake’s 1940′s challenge

warnings: mentions of war and war-related things such as weapons and wounds, pining, fluff, kissing, injury

pairing: bucky x reader

Even at camp, Bucky can’t escape the frigid cold - a fire of any significance to comfort would alert any number of civilians, army, Nazi to their location in a radius of three to five miles. Kilometers here in Germany. Not that it matters to his numbing fingers under the obscured task of fixing his damn buttons. Visible breath fogs his view, resulting in a few too many pokes through sensitive fingertip skin before the dull void crept through them.

Surrounded in olive green, muddy brown, midnight he can take this risk. The final stitch in place, he pulls his lighter close enough to light the wrinkled, seamed letter.

I got the job, my darling! Tomorrow your girl will be a real librarian in Brooklyn - can you believe it? They even let me register you for your own library card. Now you have obligations to get back home safe to me. You’ve got so much reading to do!

Instead of a photo, you’d enclosed a little paper card with all his pertinent information included - his full name, an identification number, the name and address of the Brooklyn Public Library. A bona fide reader even here in the wilderness.

The card’s ink had smudged a bit, as present and intimate as the dog tags on his neck. You, he kept specifically in his left breast pocket. Every letter, every telegram.

The tune starts quiet and soft in the back of his throat, dry lips mouthing the words to no one but himself.

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

Fresh tears well at the corners of his eyes, spill one by one down grimy cheeks and unshaven stubble. Then, he hears the low hum of approaching planes, and his stomach lurches.

—-

Banners danced along the fresh walls of the Brooklyn Public on your first day of the job. Posters encouraging citizens to do their part, support the men overseas, fight the good fight emblazoned every space unoccupied by shelves of books.

Leather and vanilla, fresh ink. Even the pleasant thud of rubber stamps became the equivalent of the heartbeat of your library. One of many librarians, your team took pride in a job well done, a child’s awed expression with a new book in hand.

After lunch you’d be reading to a small group of almost-school-aged children. You sighed happily, if a little longingly.

One day. One day your soldier would come home. Until then, you’d hum his favorite song.

—-

Mortars and bullets littered the air, ground, his friends. Each thud of a body churned in his gut, his gun held close as a baby to his body. Distance. He needed distance.

Deep in the trenches, far from the bird’s eye view preferred by a skilled sniper, Bucky’s chest heaved in gulps of mossy air.

A scream, a wail, a battle cry. Pure adrenaline in his veins. His legs surged him onward as his ears rang, deafened to all other noise except her sleep-heavy morning voice.

You make me happy when skies are grey

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don’t take my sunshine away

—-

You couldn’t read the Daily Eagle anymore, not with the headlines touting the worst of men, the death, the cruelty of nations. Doubt weighed your heart - an anchor, broke it day after day.

The facade of optimistic determination aged like soured milk. Watching families torn apart by selfishness and greed and hate day, even in your pretty library.

Not enough of the soldiers came home.

Yours hadn’t yet, and he promised.

The soup you had for lunch only gurgled in your stomach. You hungered for his presence, the reassurance that your Bucky was safe. The not knowing of it all wrecked you so completely.

Then came a letter.

Coming home. Safe. Bucky.

—-

The terror haunted him still - Bucky could smell the muck and lead and blood every morning when he woke. More than once already, he’d fallen out of bed with a phantom limb, the left arm from his shoulder down now gone.

For once, Steve saved him from an unfair fight. He owed Steve everything anyway, all the love and brotherhood any guy could hope for between them. Steve had helped him pin the sleeve of his coat, too, on the way over to Brooklyn Public Library.

Busy for a Tuesday so close to Christmas, Bucky thought as he surveyed the various patrons milling through the glass doorways. Heart thudding the same as his newly polished boots, the doors scared him almost as much as the face of his former captor.

Inside, the world changed into something other. War no longer existed - calm quiet, studious, polite. Not tense quiet of night in hiding, watching, waiting for the enemy to appear from the dim light of camp. No need for a rifle. No need for a blade.

“Can I help you?”

She wasn’t you. Part of him wished for this to be so easy.

“I need help finding someone, if that’s alright,” he muttered, right hand flexing nervously in his pocket. Another heartbeat in his hand.

He said your name out loud for the first time in months, whisper quiet as if to keep you sacred as a secret between friends. She beamed and ushered him quickly to the children’s section near the back of the right side of the expansive room.

Murmurs bounced off the wooden shelves, cushioned thoughts and wishes on donated oak. Bucky tried not to wince, his skin itching all over with nerves and what-if’s.

Then he saw you.

And oh.

What a vision.

Boots scraped on the new floor, heels touching, posture at full attention. A boy again.

A periwinkle dress, cut and layered just the way you’d always liked. Your makeup done simply, accenting the peaks and valleys of your face, and those pearl earrings. Faux pearl, but nobody who mattered could tell the difference. Bucky wanted to buy you a real necklace, eventually real earrings. And a ring. Anything with potential to make you glow like the sun.

The way you glow when you’d seen him standing there like a dope. Tears fall before you were able to get to your feet and rush to him, arms around him as if he might dissipate if you let go. His right arm hooked around you, tight and unyielding, face pressed close to your ear.

You sobbed, taking inventory of every minuscule part of his face. Violet bags under his eyes, making the blue all the more stunning. Bucky, your very real and tangible Bucky, looked beaten and as worn as the army-issue boots he wore. He cried, he wriggled with sobs in your arms, leaned where your hands brushed.

“Darling, you made it home for Christmas!”

He choked, head down, lips pressed between angry teeth. Your hands draped over his shoulders at the back of his neck, moved forward, and -

Bucky flinched in shame. No left arm. Less of a man. The worst of it, your hand moves instead to his face again and urges his eyes upward.

“Sarge, I think you may have some stories to tell me instead.”

He didn’t hold back the watery scoff, the salty kiss to your lips or the tender I love you.

#abitchassholiday #cake’s 1940s challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader

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backofthebookshelf · 6 years ago

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Book Recs for Magnus Archives Fans

I was just rambling in tags the other day about how my avatarsona was "the Archivist, but a public librarian: Oh, you like dirt?? Let me tell you all the dirt stories I have!!!!" so, uh, here I am I guess.

I'm gonna spare you all the M.R. James and Algernon Blackwood and House of Leaves and Blindsight; you know all that already. These are my horror backlist recs.

The Bone Key by Sarah Monette Y'all. Y'ALL. Kyle Murchison Booth was absolutely the Archivist before Gertrude. He was poached from the Parrington by the Usher Foundation and the Eye glommed onto him at once, because the Eye loves disaster queers who can't people right (and also Gertrude). This I believe to be true, and so will you.

Kyle Murchison Booth is an archivist at the Parrington Museum, which is somewhere in New England, sometime in the early twentieth century. He also has a lifelong entanglement with the supernatural which is almost entirely not his fault, and he would very much like it to stop, but he also feels responsible and he can't just let evil mirrors and cursed necklaces and possessed dressing gowns randomly eat people who have no idea what's happening. Even if it means he's going to suffer for it.

(This collection doesn't contain all of the Booth stories, so here I am going to link to "White Charles", which happens to be my very favorite Booth story.)

For you if your favorite part is: honestly everything about MAG, from the modern sensibilities about early twentieth-century-horror, truly eerie ghost stories, to suffering eldritch librarians (thanks to whoever tagged my most recent fic with that you're so valid), monsterfucking and soft gay pining. No happy endings here, sorry.

Bedfellow by Jeremy C. Shipp You may or may not have heard that Macmillan-Tor is launching a horror imprint, and I don't know how long it's been since a major publishing house has had a horror imprint, but I am EXCITE. This book is part of the trend that's the reason why: Tor.com has been publishing these kickass novellas for a couple years now, and their horror books are top notch.

One night a stranger knocks on a family's living room window and asks to be invited in. They ask him to stay the night. He's an old friend, after all, he needs a place to stay. You can't kick out your twin brother when he's just gotten divorced, no matter how much Gatorade he spills on your two-year-old hardwood floors.

For you if your favorite part is: the Stranger, this is all Stranger, it's terrifying and good.

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll A graphic novel, some of these were originally posted as webcomics (have you seen His Face All Red, and if not, why not???) and the only disadvantage to having them in book form is they can't blink at you. Probably. Very folktale-ish, with all the death and violence that implies, and also the slightly eerie feeling that you know this story already, and then it turns around and slaps you.

For you if your favorite part is: looking over your shoulder when the foley gets good; Once Upon a Time in Space (I know that's not technically part of the Magnus Archives but shush)

Universal Harvester by John Darnielle I am not usually a fan of artists who jump media. Just because you can write songs doesn't mean you can write novels. Apparently writing good songs doesn't mean you can't write good novels, though, because John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats (pretty sure that's his full name at this point) wrote Universal Harvester and I love him for it.

Jeremy works at a video rental place in Nevada, Iowa (it's pronounced Nah-vey-da, and yes it’s real, I've been there, and yes, it's probably haunted). It's the 1990s, and someone's been returning their VHS tapes with something on them that isn't just the movie. Footage that includes a barn that he recognizes, just outside of town.

Fair warning: this is not the kind of mystery that gets tied up in a nice bow at the end.

For you if your favorite part is: Jon losing it with paranoia in S2, The People's Church of the Divine Host, the Lonely

The Good House by Tananarive Due If this author's name is unfamiliar to you, RUN, do not walk, to your nearest internet bookseller and purchase every single one of her books immediately, you will not regret it. She also just came out with a documentary on black horror, Horror Noire, on the Shudder streaming service. They've got a free month if you aren't a horror movie person, it'd be worth your while. This book summary sounds like it's full of tropes. It is, but Due has the cred to write them well.

Angela Toussaint hopes to salvage her suffering marriage and her troubled relationship with her teenage son with a trip to her grandmother's house, a home so beloved the locals in small-town Washington state call it "The Good House," but tragedy strikes instead. Two years later she returns and finds that the tragedy isn't over, and it's not going to stop on its own.

For you if your favorite part is: the very practical statement-givers who know what's happening to them and Will Not Put Up With This Shit, the Desolation, the Hill Top Road statements

The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins Is this horror disguised as fantasy? Found family disguised as horror? Grown-up Neil Gaiman? Less grimdark George R.R. Martin? Honestly I have no fucking idea, but it's amazing. Fair warning, unlike Magnus Archives, this deserves all kinds of trigger warnings, including but not necessarily limited to: sexual assault, torture, mental manipulation, dysfunctional families, incest(?)

Father is missing, and his twelve children (though extremely talented in their own ways, and not strictly speaking children any more) are at a loss without him. But also, without him, things are starting to seem different. He might be God? They might not be human? (They were probably human once.) He might not be God but maybe one of them might be next? If any of them survive.

For you if your favorite part is: slowly turning into a monster, the relationships between entities and avatars, monsters hot (not kidding about the trigger warnings)

The Loney by Andrew Michael Hurley I have to keep reminding myself that Magnus Archives isn't really folk horror, there are two separate (if related) strains of British horror here and folk horror is not the one we're on, but at the same time I really want a good creepy rural pagan cult to show up in the series, you know? Anyway.

When he was a child, our narrator used to go with his family on an Easter pilgrimage to shrine on a bleak stretch of Lancaster coastline locals called The Loney. His Catholic mother was searching for a cure for his older brother, and she was convinced if they kept going long enough she would be granted her wish. The locals, however, are not huge fans of her annual visits, and even less so when the boys become involved with the goings-on of a pair of glamorous tourists.

For you if your favorite part is: the Lukases, I didn't realize until I was writing this up that I'm picturing Moreland House in the exact place described by this book

Eutopia by David Nickle One thing I love about the historical statements in Magnus Archives is just how truly historical they are. There's almost nothing in "The Piper" that isn't historically accurate - yes, Wilfrid Owen spent several days in a trench underneath the shredded bodies of his fellow soldiers. Like. You can't make up horror worse than that. But then you add monsters and it gets good. And I'm a sucker for early-twentieth-century history, it's such a bonkers time.

It's 1911 and the new Eugenics Record Office is sending agents out to catalog the disabled, infirm, and otherwise undesirable members of society so they can figure out what to do about them. In the utopian town of Eliada, Idaho, Dr. Andrew Waggoner runs from the racism of American society and straight into the influence of Mister Juke, the most troubling patient in his new practice. (Trigger warnings for, obviously, a whole lot of ableism. Treated like the monstrousness it is, but there's a lot of it.)

For you if your favorite part is: learning history through horror, the Flesh

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay I hate male writers writing about teenage girls, so you are going to have to trust me when I say that I had to check, several times while reading this book, to make sure that Paul Tremblay is actually a dude. He's very good. This book was kind of his breakout, so if you follow horror you've read it already, but if you don't necessarily then please do not miss it. His newer ones, Disappearance at Devil's Rock (Stranger, Spiral) and The Cabin at the End of the World (Slaughter, Extinction), are also good but not as good as this, I think.

Fourteen-year-old Marjorie is having a rough time - outbursts, hallucinations, paranoia. Treatment is difficult (and expensive) and her family ambivalent; they turn to a local Catholic priest, who recommends an exorcism and, to help manage those medical bills, a production company who's interested in filming a reality TV show about the process. Fifteen years later, Marjorie's sister deconstructs the now-famous show and wrestles with her own memories of childhood. Trigger warnings for ableism on the part of many of the characters, but not the narrative.

For you if your favorite part is: the Spiral, metafictional analysis of horror tropes

#the magnus archives #book recs #there's a lot of other things i could tag this as #but i wrote it for this fandom #is this a transparent excuse to get more people to read booth stories??#it is #it really is

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whatwillthegirlbecome · 6 years ago

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Okay, so I was tagged by the incandescent pineapple-scented land mermaid @village-skeptic

Sorry it took me so long to do this. In my defense, I am very very lazy:

nicknames: Never. I have always been called by my full first name, even as a small child. I think I was probably too serious for anything to really stick. I love the trope of using someone’s last name as a nickname, but my last name is deeply terrible and uncool, so even though I would love to participate in that, I would cringe if anyone called me by my last name.

zodiac sign: I’m an Aries, but I don’t feel like I fit the Aries profile very well. It’s neither here nor there really, since don’t really put a lot of stock in astrology. However, I do sometimes feel kind of wistful when those “the signs as...” posts go around, and never hit the mark for me.

height: 5′1″. I will give almost anything for 4 more inches. All leg please!

hogwarts house: All signs point to Ravenclaw, but with a VERY STRONG Hufflepuff rising. I’m super brave to the point of recklessness, but only on other people’s behalf. I would probably let you murder me out of, you know, not wanting to be impolite to a murderer, but look at one of my friends funny and I will throw down in the street! I’m the mom friend who gets tequila drunk and then threatens offers to fight all the dudes - creepy or otherwise - who are hitting on my girls.

last thing i googled: “Anthony Perkins.” Over the holiday weekend I had a big argument with one of my friends about whether Anthony Perkins was in a movie version of Hello Dolly! I knew it wasn’t the Barbara version, but I was sure there was something. I’m going to claim victory, because he was in The Matchmaker, which is the play Hello Dolly! was based on. Did you guys know it was written by Thorton Wilder? !!! And OMG what a cast - Shirley Booth, Robert Morse, Shirley MacLaine!

fave musicians: Too many to list. I generally like everything, except really commercial country music, and even then I could probably be tricked into liking something if the lyrics are good. The musicians I’ve seen live the most include: The Pixies, Metric, Fishbone, Decemberists, Matthew Sweet, and John Prine. I also really love Baroque music.

song stuck in your head: This is actually @village-skeptic‘s fault for posting it earlier: Personal Jesus. Also, I may have mentioned before I wanna [redacted] Dave Gahan. Like a screen door in a hurricane.

following: 138

followers: 40. I’m gonna quote Mike Conovan here: Not much meat on her, but what's there is cherce. Every single one of my followers is a g-d delight. You make my life better!

do you get asks: Almost never! Not sure why. I hope it’s not because ppl find me off-putting, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t kind of fear that.

amount of sleep: Generally I get 7 1/2 or 8 hours a night, but my body would really much prefer 9 or 10.

what are you wearing: My pajamas! Which go on almost as soon as I get home from work.

dream job: Well it depends on if this is a magical-wish-fulfillment dream job, or just a what-would-have-been-realistic-if-you’d-made-better-choices dream job.

Magic-enabled dream job is definitely character actor/comedian/member of Mike Schur’s repertory company. Famous enough to support myself and my extended family/treat my friends whenever I feel like it, but not famous enough for the paps to stake out my vacation/wedding. (guys! is Jenny Slate my dream job?)

“Achievable” dream job is Rare Book Librarian/Archivist. This is actually what my background/training is in, but alas you can’t support yourself in the most expensive real estate market in the known universe on a librarian’s salary.

dream trip: Since college I have had a dream of visiting every continent. Where’d You Go Bernadette kinda cured me of wanting to go to Antarctica, but I haven’t completely given up on everywhere else. So far, I’ve only made it to 2 (including the one where I live). Somehow I keep going back to Europe instead.

instruments: Sadly none, but I would love to be able to make music with all of my heart.

languages: English. I used to be fluent in French, but I’ve lost almost all of it.

favorite songs: This one can’t be answered. However, I will offer up Phoebe Snow’s No Regrets, (I believe it’s an old jazz standard though) as the song I am most likely to sing if I am showing off (this is more French 75-drunk than tequila drunk though).

random fact: My Bacon number is 3.

I’m kind of a recovering theater kid. In my callow youth, I won a regional drama competition, the prize for which was a small part in a play that was touring, and had a 2 week stop in my city. The lead actor was Ian McKellen. This is pretty much ancient history, so he wasn’t nearly as famous then as he is now, but he was still a little bit famous. At any rate, he was nothing but charming and encouraging to me, despite the fact that I was basically a glorified extra. He low-key hit on my dad at the cast party. My dad was utterly charmed

aesthetic: I like a close juxtaposition of whimsy and minimalism. Like if Chrissy Hynde and Audrey Hepburn and Carol Kane had a baby, that baby would be my aesthetic. A fitted black jacket, over a Betty Boop graphic tee, boot cut jeans, vintage charm bracelet, and chucks. A motocross jacket over a ruffled circus-print blouse, velvet pants, suede booties, giant cocktail ring, and day-3 hair. LBD, kitten heel, big chunky silver rings, and an Olympia Le-Tan clutch. Sparkly things in the dark - the Eiffel tower after sundown; the Christmas tree after everyone’s gone to bed; city lights from your fire escape when you’re too worked up to sleep; fireworks on the Fourth of July.

And this isn’t so much an aesthetic, but rather a mood that pervades my life. To quote Dolly Parton in Steel Magnolias: Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.

I think most of you have probably been tagged already, but if not and you want to, consider this your invitation!

#the mortifying ordeal of being known #my beloved village-skeptic #tag games

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alternativewinxcontinuity · 7 years ago

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Princess Solaria: Fairy Lost

Princess Solaria: Fairy Lost (part 03) Winx Pilot Episode AU Bloom turns a corner and heads to the beach, Stella deals with the fall out.

Previously: AO3; 01-Clean/TW; 02

Pursuit of knowledge

Stella stepped out of the shower as the sun was rising. She'd slept fitfully through the night, exhausted physically from the long night and day of worried wandering, but her mind continued to throw problems at her.

Could the men in suits track her? What did they want with her? Was her physiology that different from the locals? Was that noise someone breaking in? What was the local political climate like? How hard would it be for Stella to find the things she'd need to contact home? How much danger was she actually in?

Wiping the condensation from the mirror, Stella eyed her reflection critically. Her hair remained the same orange-brown of her father, the bruises on her skin still looked fresh, which was expected. Breathing deeply and applying a slight amount of pressure, Stella checked her bones for breaks, but while her body ached, she felt no sharp stab that came with bone injuries.

She sighed with relief, knowing the worst of the healing was out of the way. Stella had been worried about her magical reserves, trying to decide if it would have been better to force all of her reserves directly into healing, which would have left her physically whole, but depleted of magic, or wait and allow the natural siphon of her returning magic, which would have delayed her physical healing but ensured she had some power to work with.

With her bones healed, allowing the natural siphoning process to take place was her safest option.

Turning from the mirror, Stella pulled one of her suitcases from its carry space, grimacing when it opened to reveal a selection of short skirts.

'I really need to keep my carry space in better order,' she shoved the suitcase back and pulled out another, this one containing clothes she could wear out without showing off her bruising. If she was staying in, the skirts wouldn't have been a problem, and perhaps she should have taken the day to rest and recuperate, but she'd woken so many times in the night, convinced her dreams of men in suits breaking in were actually happening.

She needed to get off this planet.

Stepping into the local library took more determination than it should have, old taunts echoed in Stella's head as she slipped into the cold, air-conditioned building.

'Seriously,' she snarled mentally, 'who the heck thinks taunting the future queen is a good idea, stupid brats.' Stella banished the old hurts from her mind, mourning her ability to give a decent hair flick alongside the dismissal, her hair bound up in cute, woven buns.

“Can, can I help you?” A quite voice from off to the side of the entrance called out to her, Stella turned, the lenses of her glasses rapidly shifting back to clear inside the artificial light.

“I'm here for knowledge,” Stella said with mock seriousness, stepping closer to the young woman at the counter. “You wouldn't happen to know where I can find the books on space stuff and communications?” Stella let a chagrined smile onto her face, trying to put the woman at ease.

“Sure,” the woman stood, “I can show you if you'd like?”

“That would be great-” Stella caught sight of a name tag “-thanks Pattie.”

As the woman led Stella through the shelving she asked, “how's your morning been so far?”

“Not bad,” Stella replied vaguely.

“You just looked kind of... scowly when you came in.”

“Oh!” The princess let herself feel a second of shame for her slip, before shoving it to the side and covering it up with a lie, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring my bad attitude with me. My boarding school does summer homework, and I wanted to get it out of the way so I could enjoy my break, you know? Unlike certain other people.”

“Let me guess: team assignment everyone else is happy to leave until the night before going back?”

“Got it in one,” Stella let out a sigh, “on the bright side, the teacher this is for, is more than happy to do individual grades so: I'm throwing those slackers under the bus.”

She tried not to let her confusion show as her figure of speech came out strangely, why would she throw people under a moving vehicle? That was a horrible thing to do.

“Urgh, I wish my teachers would do that, seriously, last group assignment was the worst. In other news, uh...” Pattie made a face and a small pointing gesture at Stella, like she was trying to remember something.

“Oh, sorry, I'm Elaine,” the false name slid from her mouth with ease. She'd taken several minutes to practice in the mirror before she'd left the apartment.

“Elaine, right, here is our 'space stuff' section. All our information for communications, well I assume you mean like radio, telephone, email? Anyway all that stuff is-” Pattie gave directions with her hands and arms as well as her words, telling Stella how to find the categories she was after, and where to find the tables and chairs she could work at. “And if you want to take any of the books home, come find me at the front desk, I'll set you up with a card.”

“Thank you so much, you are the best,” Pattie snorted and ducked her head away, a grin and a blush covering her face at Stella's praise.

“No problem,” Pattie started walking backwards in the direction of her desk, “good luck with your assignment.”

“Thank you,” Stella mouthed at the retreating girl, before turning to the books. “Okay,” she whispered, “star charts, star charts.” She ran her fingers across the book spines, pulling out anything that sounded like it could help.

At the front desk of the library, the young assistant librarian covered her red face with her hands, trying not to squeal. She wiggled happily as a feeling of warmth bubbled inside her. Mid-wriggle Pattie froze.

'Holy crap,' she knew this feeling, 'am I Bi?'

Elaine's words, 'you are the best,' floated through Pattie's head and she had to stop herself from squealing all over again. Her sexuality crisis could wait, a super pretty girl had just told her she was 'the best.'

“Pattie?” the young woman startled so hard she almost dropped her sandwich.

“Elaine!? Hey,” Pattie shoved her lunch back into its wrapper and checked her mouth for food smears. “What's up?”

“Sorry, I didn't realise I'd be here so long, and I didn't think I could eat in the library anyway,” the duo glanced at the half hidden sandwich.

Pattie threw a hand over it and whispered “you saw nothing. Librarian privileges.”

Stella let out a little huff of laughter, “saw nothing, got it. Uhm, so I'm just going to head over to the café and grab some lunch, I shouldn't be more than an hour, is it alright if I leave my books at the table I was working at?”

It took Pattie a second to catch up with the conversation, her embarrassment causing her brain to lag behind. “Sure, uh, yeah that's fine. I mean, I'd take my personal equipment with me if I was you, but the books are fine where they are, I'll let the other librarian on duty know to leave them.”

Stella lifted her satchel bag and patted it gently, “got my stuff, I'll see you after lunch.”

As Stella walked to the door Pattie sighed, “Oh my god I'm bi.” The doors closed with a quiet 'thg', and she blanched, “please don't let her have heard me, please don't let her have heard meeee.”

Walking down the steps Stella giggled, “still got it.”

Stella was in trouble. A lot of trouble.

Every star chart she'd looked over had led her to one conclusion: she wasn't as lost as she'd assumed.

Which sounded amazing, but in reality, was far worse.

She was on Albion, a colony world where fairies had been hunted to extinction, a world that had been quarantined from the rest of the Dimension as a result. She was as far from the Magical Dimension as it was possible to get, without actually leaving.

No one knew what had really happened in the last days of Tir Nan Og, but there were theories, each crazier than the last. Queen Morgana had sent out a message across the Dimension, telling everyone to stay away while her people cast a Great Spell. When the energy emissions had died down, and people had gone to investigate, all traces of the fairy cities, of magic and the fairies themselves, were gone.

The Planet's energy fields were warped, inexplicably draining its own magic, and nothing anyone had done, could undo it.

The problem didn't begin and end there though, not for Stella. The quarantine wasn't just because of the assumed genocide. If she didn't take steps to protect her magical core, the warped planetary fields would begin to drain her magic as well.

Stella groaned as she dumped her stack of books onto her kitchen bench. Pattie had been kind enough to warn her about the Summer Activities the library participated in, including the book readings for small children which would begin the following day. So Stella had done the smart thing, and taken Pattie up on her offer of a library card; toting the heavy pile of books all the way back to her apartment was a small price to pay for the peace to actually study.

Throwing a meal into her microwave, Stella turned on her tv, looking for the news station. She managed to catch the last fifteen minutes of a news broadcast, and learned nothing of interest. She left the television on while she took a shower, and came back to a strange movie about a reporter who wore his bright red underwear over a blue unitard while saving his partner who didn't recognise him without his glasses.

Stella wasn't sure if that was normal, or if the woman was some level of face-blind; because while glasses helped change the appearance of the face, (the reason Stella was wearing them) they didn't alter it so much that a co-worker would be that confused.

Turning the tv off with a muttered 'this planet is so weird,' Stella began sorting through her books, preparing to read up on the planet's communication technology.

Royal Palace : Solaria

“Every guard, every soldier, hire volunteers if we must!” Queen Luna shouted to the assembled military leaders. Beside her, her husband radiated with fury.

“Find our daughter!” The assembly hesitated. “GO!”

The attendees scrambled for the exits, all preparing for the search. In the throne room Luna sank to her knees while Radius glared holes in the carpet. Rage was so much easier than grief.

Gardenia : Earth

Stella needed a break. Her brain was melting out her ears.

Probably.

She'd spent a full day studying at the library, plus she'd spent an entire day staying in the apartment with the books she'd brought back, she deserved a break.

She'd spent so long pretending, she'd actually forgotten how obnoxious studying was.

So, as the sun rose over the city of Gardenia once more, Stella prepared for a day off at the beach. Her bruising was finally faded enough to disappear under a light foundation, so Stella was going to take full advantage to catch some sun rays and bolster her magical energy. At the door she paused, groaning to herself as she back-tracked and grabbed her notebooks, stuffing them in her beach bag to go over. If she felt like it.

Stella decided to take a bus to the beach, rather than walk, it was only a few dollars, and the convenience seemed more than worth it. As the bus drove through the streets of Gardenia, Stella's eyes caught on a pair of girls on a bicycle.

The one on the parcel tray looked like she'd feel right at home at Cloud Tower, from her sandy-green hair, to her chunky boots. The girl pedalling the bike had flame-orange hair, and as the bus passed them, Stella turned, getting a view of the girl's face.

There was a strange familiarity about the girl, but Stella couldn't put her finger on why. Then the bus turned a corner and the pair fell out of sight, Stella shoved the thought away. She'd probably just seen the girl around town.

Even in her head, it felt like a lie.

Roxy wasn't sure what to think when she recognised Stella; the young woman was wearing a sarong over a bikini that showed off an impressive amount of skin. Despite Roxy's frown, Stella smiled when she saw the younger teen.

“Hey Roxy,” Stella slid onto a stool across the bar from the waitress, her smile faltering when Roxy's frown didn't lessen, the girl running an eye over Stella's flawless skin.

“Oh, yeah, I heal really fast.” When Roxy didn't look impressed, the ginger girl looked around, before leaning close, “I'm also wearing a ridiculous amount of cover up right now. Like, I probably could have started a store, with the amount I'm wearing, no joke.”

Stella pulled a bottle from her bag to show the waitress, but Roxy didn't recognise the brand.

“Speaking of expenses,” she shove the bottle back into her beach back, and pulled out a purse, “I can't pay you for the help you gave me, but I can pay for the food and drinks now.” Before she could start pulling out money, Roxy waved her off, finally relaxing.

“Don't worry about it, you needed the help, and it didn't affect the bar's bottom line. But if you want to pay for your drinks form now on...”

“Happily,” Stella grinned, “I didn't even go outside yesterday, so today, I'm treating myself.”

“You found a place to stay?” Roxy stepped back from the bar, putting together a mocktail with practised ease.

“Yeah, just a little place, but it's all mine,” Stella swapped her cash for the drink and took a sip, “oh this is amazing, what is it?”

“It's a sunrise, don't worry, it's virgin, despite being a 'bar,' we don't actually have an alcohol license.”

Something about the name made Stella giggle, “it's perfect,” she assured Roxy.

“Well, good. You know what else is perfect?” Stella looked up from her second sip, an eyebrow raised curiously. “Your accent, seriously Stella, how did you get that down so fast?”

The young woman flinched, “I'm kinda... good with languages? Also, could,” Stella looked around again, worry evident in the lines of her body, “could you call me Elaine?”

“Elaine?” Stella nodded, “okay, I can do that... Ste- Elaine, are, are you an illegal immigrant? Is that why those guys...”

“No! No, I'm, I'm not... those men aren't after me for being an illegal immigrant.”

The girl was curling in on herself, and Roxy felt horrible about it but she pushed a little further, “does it have to do with whoever hurt you?”

Stella tensed, when she replied her voice was barely more than a whisper, “I don't know what happened exactly, but they showed up while I was in the hospital. I can't tell you what they want with me, but it is not good.”

Roxy leaned across the bar, resting one of her hands gently on Stella's arm, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted. “I'm sorry for pushing, I shouldn't have done that.”

“No; strange foreign woman shows up in your bar needing help and on the run, you have every right to wonder. Although...”

“Although?”

“When I say it like that it sounds like the start of a trashy detective novel.” The two girls shared a look, before breaking out into giggles, the heavy atmosphere lifted like a light fog in the hot sun.

“Roxy!” The younger woman turned towards the interrupting call, eyes settling on her father.

“Yeah dad?”

“Stop flirting, there's other customers waiting,” the man gave the girls a teasing look, turning back to his own customers. The girls started laughing all over again, even as Roxy drew away.

“Ah, I'd better get back to it.”

“I'll leave you alone then,” Stella began to move from her seat then stopped, “Oh, uh, I was going to catch some sun, can I-” she lifted the mostly full drink.

“Oh yeah, just don't leave the glass in the sand, and stay in the bar's designated area, I'll pick it up on my rounds.”

“Cool, I'll see you later,” Stella gave her a little wave and flounced away. Roxy shook her head and got back to work.

Part 04

#Winx #winx club #Winx AU #Winx Club AU #Princess Solaria AU #Princess Solaria: Fairy Lost #this got inexplicably gayer?#Winx Stella #Winx Roxy #Stella-centric #action and plot continue to smoulder #I wasn't joking about the slow burn

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allwaswell16 · 8 years ago

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Annual Writing Self-Evaluation

*All answers should be about works published in 2017.

I was tagged by @fullonlarrie and @letsjustsee ! Thanks, Lauren and Rachel! <3 <3

1. List of works published this year: In the order that they were posted

Don’t Need Permission

Email Chain Part 4

Now That I Found You

For You I’d Bleed Myself Dry

On a Day Like This You Know It’s Meant To Be

Screaming (OT4 Email Chain)

Won’t You Please Come Around

Let Me Kiss You

The Brits & Always You (Email Chain)

I’ll Be There

You Really Got Me Now

Looking Through You

You & Me

but tonight (you’re on my mind)

We Know Where We Belong

Is Neil Available? (Email Chain)

How Could I Ever Forget

That’s How I Know

And I Could Hear the Thunder

Sound Like a Song

Look Like a Movie

One Day You’ll Say These Words

Let You Lick the Lollipop

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene

Do You Smile To Tempt a Lover

Paper Houses

Staring Across the Room

We’re Dancing On Tables

Be My Homeward Dove

Today’s the Day (Winter Drabble Series)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Probably Looking Through You. I spent the most time and effort on that one. When I was writing it, it just felt like I had to spend a lot of time getting things a certain way. Usually I don’t get so hung up on word choices...I’m more of a dialogue and story person. But for this one, I couldn’t seem to keep going forward until I had things just right.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

I wouldn’t say I’m not proud of anything I published this year. Let’s just say there are some fics I wrote that I like better than others. I won’t say which or I’ll get defensive messages again from people and/or @juliusschmidt teasing me.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

Harry tries his best to walk in normally, but the last time they were here Liam literally had to step between him. He sees Liam tense up in his chair first because he can’t bring himself to meet Louis’ eye. He opens his mouth to say hello or anything really, but he glances Louis’ way and is struck mute by the way Louis looks. He’s wearing the same clothes he left their flat in the night before. He clearly got about as much sleep as Harry did based on the darkness beneath his eyes and the taut lines around his mouth, his hair ruffled haphazardly. He looks exhausted and wounded and yet so lovely it hurts to look at him, and Harry just wants to go home.

He wants what they once had and the fragile beginning of something that he can’t seem to get right. This is what home means to him now, maybe what it has always meant to him. It means Louis in the flat making tea, it means Louis’ voice calling out his name with a laugh, it means Louis borrowing his t-shirts and never returning them, it means staying in curled up on the sofa with Netflix, it means kissing him with the desperation of a man who just wants him to stay. It means all of it and everything that Louis is to him. And while these are all the things in Harry’s heart, he doesn’t see any sign of the same written on Louis’ face.

(This was the worst trying to find something. But I’m also going to include this next one so @bangiebbelievesinlarry doesn’t come for me.)

The monster shrugs again. Louis really wishes he didn’t look so damn attractive when he’s shrugging. “Well, have fun sitting here waiting for your non-existant trick-or-treaters.”

Louis glares at the monster’s very appealing broad shoulders as he walks away. The monster mainly stays in Niall’s circle, but at one point Louis sees him chatting with Liam and a few minutes later with his lab partner, Lissie. He’s showing them his dimples, too. Probably shows everyone his dimples. He’s a ho. A dimples ho. It’s fine. Louis doesn’t care anyway. He can show his dimples to anyone he wants. Louis just doesn’t want any part of them.

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

Ohhhh, too many to share here. I’m a comment ho. I love every single one of them. I’m utterly delighted every time I get the ao3 email that says I have a comment. I’ll say my proudest moment may have been seeing one of my fics on @magicalrocketships ‘s rec list. If I could go back in time and tell the me that first started publishing fics that someday sunsetmog was going to read and like one of my fics, I would have told my future self to gtfo.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

See all those fics up there? Almost every one of them had a deadline attached to it. I spent the first part of the year signing up for every damn thing that crossed my dash, and I spent the last part of the year regretting all my life’s choices. I’d say by early fall I’d begun to get burned out, which was unfortunate seeing as how I had many fics due November 1. lol. And then I thought, why not do nano in November on top of it? Because I’m an idiot.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Darcy the Parrot? I dunno. lol. I had no idea when I was writing That’s How I Know that Darcy the Parrot was going to be such a thing. That fic is my fic with the most kudos at this point. Who knew people were going to like troublesome parrots? Not me.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

Well, I apparently wrote a hell of a lot of fic this year. 286k words actually. I’d say I tried out a lot of different genres, so I guess I was adventurous at times with what I was doing. I wrote construction workers, vampires, mischievous cats and parrots, a Regency era romance, librarians, pop stars, songwriters, models, actors, farmer’s markets, and high school aus. I wrote fics set in Rome and Vegas and New York City and Chicago and of course, London. I wrote enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, meet-cutes, exes to lovers, and established relationships. I wrote humor and fluff and smut and angst. And I wrote Tomlinshaw and Drarry in addition to all the Larry fics. So yeah, tried out a lot of things this year.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Next year, I’d like to focus on writing more what I want to write rather than write for everyone else, which is what I did this year. I think it was really great for me to do that and stretch myself, but next year I have some things planned that I really want to see through.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Forever and always @taggiecb. I don’t know how I’d write without her, honestly. At this point we talk in our own fic shorthand that we’ve been speaking for the better part of 3 years. Sometimes I have to ask her to really look through something and tell me what’s wrong with it, and she always has the best insight into what could be the problem, but she always does it with such love. I’m so grateful for that because I know she hates to pick apart my writing. She’s the person who loves my fics the most, so she has to fight herself to give me things to fix. lol.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Hoo boy. Well, for one thing, I have been sometimes intentionally, sometimes unintentionally, writing myself into my Harry characters. And one of my fics this year is almost completely autobiographical. I’ll leave to your imaginations as to which one that might be.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

I think the best advice that I’ve experienced is reaching out to other writers. Writing doesn’t have to be a solitary experience if you don’t want it to be. I love having groups of writer friends to go to when I need them for support or to give some fresh eyes to something I’m writing.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I still need to finish my wip And I Could Hear the Thunder. I’m a bit stuck on it at the moment.

I’ll be publishing one right away in the new year for the 1000 Feelings challenge/ @nottooldforthisship ‘s birthday. It’s based on a great manip from @melmanpur!

I am writing a fic for the Moodboard Larry fic challenge, but that’s supposed to be anonymous. So I won’t say too much for now on that.

I have a fairly ambitious longer fic planned. I don’t know how much I want to say about it. I’ll just say for now that it’s historical. And it has a pretty big twist to it.

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read.

I would like to read any and all writers/artists/creators who want to do this! Please say I tagged you, so I can read them! I’ll list a few people though to add some pressure to do this: @juliusschmidt @magicalrocketships @akai-coat @daisyharry @softgolfdaddy @polkadotsvstripes @writsgrimmyblog @flamboyantommo @rainbowninja @turnyourankle

#personal #writing self eval 2017 #you should do this and tag me!

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mutantdatingproblems · 7 years ago

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We Got Tagged

Hey everyone, we got tagged by @localmutantlesbian in this mutant ask thing so here we go (as always Z will be using bolded font and Vex will use italics and if we’re both saying it it’ll be both bolded and in italics, just so ya know who’s who in our answers if ya don’t wanna read our names every time). Here we go!

1. What’s your codename/mutant name?

Z: I can’t decide honestly, I’ve considered something simple like “Shifter” and crazy shit like “Dragon Queen” but they’ve all been shot down so far either by me or by Prof.X or one of the other Profs or my friends for being lame

V: This is a question I hate because I totally would’ve gone with like “Multiple Girl” but Multiple Man has that and they won’t let me pick something in a dead or nerd language (even though I think it’d be super cool) so I also don’t have one. We don;t go into the field much yet though so it doesn’t really matter yet.

2. Age?

Z: 19 going on 20, birthday is in May

V: Same except my birthday is in June

3. Gender and pronouns?

Z: Genderfluid with a current lean towards nonbinary so they/them or she/her or he/him all work for me, I don’t really care

V: Genderqueer, They/Them or She/Her please

4. What is your mutation(s)?

Z: Shapeshifting and mild hydrokinesis and is ADHD a mutation? Cause I swear it gives me superpowers

V: Creating multiples of myself and enhanced strength, speed, and senses. And yeah ADHD should definitely count as a power.

5. Are you a member of any mutant group (X-Men, The Mutant Underground, The Brotherhood of Mutants, Morlocks, etc)?

Z: X-Men in training at Xavier's (But I have friends in The Brotherhood)

V: Ditto

6. Got any physical mutations?

Z: Yeah, although mine are mostly by choice seeing as I’m a shapeshifter. I’m fond of my claws and fangs and tails and scales and horns and freaky eyes for everyday use

V: Nope, not really.

7. When did your powers manifest?

Z: Around 13

V: 12 and a half

8. What is your favourite thing about your powers?

Z: Everything. I love my powers, I love that I can be anything and do anything if I put my mind to it. It makes me who I am honestly, I don’t know who I’d be without my powers. Hell I’d probably have killed myself if my powers hadn’t manifested when they did I hated myself so much back then. Of course being at Xavier’s and meeting V and my other friends helped too. But yeah I love my powers and how they make me feel.

V: Ditto honestly, my powers help me learn so much and so much faster than I used to be able to, the focus I gain from my clones alone is a life saver when I have to do anything I find boring (which is a lot because Inattentive ADHD sucks royally). The enhanced senses and stuff are pretty awesome too, nothing better than losing your favorite pen under a couch and being able to lift the couch over your head ta get it back. I wouldn’t trade my powers for anything in the world.

9. Biggest pet peeve related to being a mutant?

Z: Assholes being assholes to us, assholes who only approve of human-passing mutants who think we should be grateful they even tolerate that much, not being able to find good shapeshifter friendly clothing that still looks cool and comes in plus sizes, and uppity fuckwad mutants who judge others on powers or looks or anything else because god dammit we need to stick together and support each other. I could go on because I have a lot but I won’t or this’ll take forever.

V: The asshole issues that Z pointed out but also when my powers go outta control cause I lose my cool or something and I have ta calm down ta find control again and it’s really hard, or when I sneeze cause of allergies and I accidentally sneeze a clone out...it’s embarrassing. Also accidentally hurting people with my enhanced strength....I hate that too

10. Ever been to space or another dimension?

Z: Yeah by accident.....it involved tequila....lots of tequila....

V: Nope

11. Do you wear a costume (BE HONEST)

Z: Sorta? I have ta make a lot of my own clothes cause of my physical mutations and shapeshifting so sometimes they come out looking very costumey and I am fond of leather which doesn’t help. I guess my battle gear counts? Loose black cargo pants (need all the pockets for gadgets and snacks cause shapeshifting requires a fuckton of calories and effort), black tank top (lightweight body armor actually but designed ta look like a tank top), arm warmers (again armor, they cover from my wrists to halfway up my upper arm, they’re also black). black leather fingerless gloves, combat boots (with knives hidden in the toes, also black except I change the laces all the time cause I like making them funky colors and designs), and a black leather weapons belt that holds at least one stun gun, two daggers/medium sized knives, and in some cases a sword because I like it. All of it’s like....well for lack of a better term...enchanted ta survive my shifts (including into dragon form) so it doesn’t rip or tear or anything. Apparently when I shift it kinda just disappears into a pocket dimension and then reappears on me when I shift back...I dunno how it works, ask Scarlet Witch she hooked me up. And by the way the weapons are because sometimes if I’m too drained ta shift I gotta go hand-to hand.

V: Yeah kinda, it’s my battle gear too. Navy cargo pants (I keep extra snacks for Z), black t-shirt, black wrist guards, black boots with purple laces and skulls and stuff painted on them, purple weapons belt holding a stun gun, throwing knives (like a frick ton, I also store more in my pants), more knives of varying sizes, smoke bombs (great for sneak attacks, just throw to confuse enemy and then attack from all sides with clones. I have flash bombs too), and a couple different versions of brass knuckles, and then I wear opaque black sunglasses too because I like them. Oh and yes my shirt is body armor like Z’s is of course, and my boots are steel toe.

12. Are you a minority in another way (race, gender, disability, etc)?

Z: Genderfluid Panromantic Demisexual who’s got mad depression, anxiety, ADHD, and fainting spells and I’m Polyamorous

V: Genderqueer, Queer in general, demisexual and polyamorous also with severe anxiety as well as dsycalculia and ADHD

13. Coolest power you’ve seen?

Z: I love Storm’s powers, but Scarlet Witch is pretty cool too

V: I concur with Storm but I’m also fond of Z’s powers cause watching your friend turn into a dragion is really cool

14. Favourite mutant artist?

Z: Dunno

V: Ditto

15. How would your friends describe you?

Z: Loud, proud, queer as fuck, angry, musical, a water baby, a literal and metaphorical dragon, bad influence, pun queen, kind of insane, kinky, and V’s shoulder devil/inner crazy bitch.

V: Quiet, secretly vindictive, punk af, dorky, wordy, easily distracted, helpful, accidental group therapist, mom friend, and Z’s conscience/shoulder angel.

16. Enhanced/powered person you most want to meet?

Z: Deadpool, I always miss him when he visits and it sucks

V: Spiderman......I just think he seem really cool

17. Feelings about mutant registration?

Z: No, just no. That’s how they end up rounding us up and killing us all. If it’s an operation run by us mutants ourselves as a way to work together and support each other and offer aid to mutants and help mutant youth who’ve been kicked out of their homes and stuff like that then sure. But not some government list of us all, fuck no.

V: Yeah ditto on that.

18. #MutantandProud or #WeWantACure?

Z&V: #MutantandProud

Z&V: Again unless it’s something regulated by mutants for mutants, no. Because it should be a mutants choice whether or not they want their powers because some people get royally screwed and end up with powers they hate because they are dangerous or something like that. It shouldn’t be something the government or anyone else can decide, it should always be the mutants individual choice.

19. How did you choose your codename?

Z: Don’t have one yet but when I do choose it’ll probably be like...by throwing darts at a bunch of names I like or a coin flip or something

V: Don’t have one yet, I’ll tell you how I chose it when I figure one out.

20. OPTIONAL: what caused your powers to manifest?

Z: Got mad, grew talons and fangs and scales cause I was reading about mythological creatures earlier, was not pretty. It happened when I was alone though so that was a plus. (I was mad because of a text from my boyfriend at the time). The hydrokinesis thing I figured out after I got to Xavier’s...was outside in the courtyard....got catcalled by some asshole student....wished I could dump water on his head....fountain water flew up and over and dumped gallons on his head....it was awesome.

V: I sneezed at the dinner table and three clones shot out of me....the strength and speed stuff I figured out at school in gym class when suddenly I was kicking ass at track and field after always sucking at it my whole life....The senses I figured out when I could hear waaaayyyyy too much noise everywhere and everything smelled waaayyy too strong and suddenly I could see without my glasses (yeah I used ta have and need glasses, I don’t anymore but if I did they’d be cats-eye style like a vintage librarian because reasons).

Tagging: We’re not really sure who ta tag so if you wanna do it then feel free ta do it and tag us!

(And thank you again to @localmutantlesbian for tagging us! We loved doing this!)

~Mod Z

~Mod Vex

P.S Wanna know more about us? Check out our previous “Meet the Mods” posts or check out our “Meet the Mods” page on the blog!

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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 61]

Pls story. I just want to get out of the sidequest. I’m just going to go until I finish up the sidequest. It’s been too long.

Chapter 29

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

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

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

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

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

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

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

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

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

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

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

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

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.