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voltstone · 9 months

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stagger (Wenclair One-Shot)

Enid is her one exception, so Wednesday tries. Again, and again, and again. She gets it right, asking Enid to…not a date. Eventually.

[3,276] | [Last Edit: 12/10/2022] (Full One-Shot Post)

Note: This one-shot has been reposted from my old account onto this one. If it looks familiar, that's why. (The issues with that account are why you can't see the "blocked" comments on posts, like the one I initially responded to; I was shadow-banned for...no reason? Some reason? Oh well.)

Hope you enjoy! :)

It has been decided:

Wednesday Addams would court Enid Sinclair.

On a Wednesday, no less.

Because nobody deserved Enid, and Enid was loyal to heart so, logically, if Wednesday courted her, no other would have the chance. There would not be another Ajax. No more forgotten dates, nor absent mental function. Nor, potentially, any acts of sabotage. Wednesday still kept the rope and pulleys in her desk for just in case. Regardless, this had been decided, and all there needed to be done was the courtship itself—something that was more of a work in progress than Wednesday liked to admit.

She now stood at the courtyard’s rim, watching a grotesque sea of midnight violets and stripes. Amongst them, however, was life, was spirit. Wednesday's luna dorada…

Enid was crafted by her blue moon eyes—more than her haunting blonde, splashed by berry shades—, for they were piercing, and they carried more than the Wednesday’s dead-weighted stare. They had a way of striking every insult to dust, and a way of worming beneath her gaunt complexion. Or, when they would drown, the blue to her eyes were what Wednesday sought to mend. Every time. Without fail.

And they drowned after Ajax.

And every subsequent boy.

Then girl. There was a girl too, but that didn’t last. None of them did, but she certainly didn’t.

…Enid was particularly upset with that one. Only now did Wednesday begin to begrudgingly admit that, perhaps, being the reason why a student jumped from academy to mental institution like a tick should’ve weighed heavier on her conscious. Begrudgingly, though. Wednesday still couldn’t find hers, so she borrowed Enid’s conscious, and as it turned out, that whole…incident weighed like an anvil.

It took a moment for Wednesday to realize she had been reflecting for much too long. She hadn’t moved from the pillar. And with a bark of laughter from the midnight sea, her attention snapped.

Blue moon found the ink of her eyes. Enid beamed at Wednesday, dared to spite what scars slashed her face, from across the tables.

A threat. (Enid merely smiled.) What sick behavior. (Sure, Wednesday.) She was going to vomit. (From the stress.) From the agony. (…no.)

There was a blink. Her heart urged ejection—orally.

So.

Wednesday flipped her off.

It was an honest reflex.

…

This exchange would be the one. A swift, passing moment between classes, with Enid skipping her way to interspecies biology, and Wednesday, cryptic humanities, at a stroll. Five minutes at most. The corridor they used was…occupied, as it usually was, though far from the bustling wing it would devolve to at other hours.

As usual, they stopped before the odd display case—to commemorate the school’s history of its students on milk cartons.

“Enid.”

Her smile grew in ways Wednesday would never understand, yet would come to…notice. Often. As fleeting, busy thoughts. They were often gnats. Never to leave until Wednesday paid them their due time. This particular smile dug into Enid’s cheeks, and it was a toothy one, with sly eyes, and a chin leaned towards her shoulder. (It would be one to ponder on for a while. Before bed, namely.) “…Wednesday?" Enid humored, "You’ve been a little mean today, you know.”

“It is my day,” Wednesday muttered.

She also noticed that Enid did grow a few inches after all. Her eyes flecked along Enid’s pinstriped, midnight uniform and concluded that, yes, her skirt looked a little shorter than it had before. "Do you…have something to say?“

Wednesday crept her stare back to Enid’s blue moon. There’s a pause, then Enid pressed, from the corner of her mouth, ”Or…ask?“

A blink. She swallowed down a sludge of webbed thoughts. "Enid. I…" That skirt needed to be longer. Since when did Enid grow? Over break, surely. Behind Wednesday’s back, no doubt. "I think that…" It hardly mattered. Wednesday was asking— Wednesday was courting Enid, and she— "Would— Would…you…” She didn’t. Know. Where?! “To the—" Where would she court Enid? A funeral? "Go to…” No, she couldn’t.

“Wednesday…?”

Why did she not check the obituary this week?! This morning, for the—

Her eyes snapped to Enid. And she blinked. Twice this time. “What?”

Enid’s sly eyes had a mild twitch to them. Which was…new. Almost. She didn’t do that with Wednesday often. The last time was before their occasion at the last fair. And before that had been the night where they danced as one, at the masquerade—music to harmonize, words left unsaid. (It was a favorite moment.) “Do you want to go to town together?” A question, like the couple times before. Enid toyed with her hands, then added, quietly, “And we can go to that creepy antique store you like?”

“With the roadkill?”

“Yeah.”

Wednesday did like that store. "Yes. That would be…worthwhile.“

"…and then ice cream?”

She fought a grimace. Stamped it down. “The one that smells desperate for attention?”

“Uh, yeah, that one,” Enid said. Her eyes watched Wednesday, as full as ever.

“Okay.” Wednesday nodded, though it was slow, and it was cautious. Enid had a way of writhing guilt to her chest as heartworm.

(She also had a way of patience:) “They have the vanilla you like.”

“Yes, then.”

Wednesday spoke the route to Enid’s apparent gaiety. “Okay!" she near-squealed, her hands clasped together. Before Wednesday found them latched on either shoulder. That gaiety, as it bloomed full in her eyes, threatened to chip the color from her nails and into the black of Wednesday’s uniform. "So after class then!”

She found she didn’t mind it. Enid could leave her sediment of color all she liked, so long as she kept her eyes from drowning. “Fine,” Wednesday said, with an added, “Don’t bother me until the hour.”

Enid’s nodding was frantic. The twitch in her eye skewed the smile in her cheek.

Wednesday meandered around Enid with a thick mouth, and a heavy mind. She didn’t court her. Forgot to know what, exactly, the courting would be in the first place. How that blunder managed to come to fruition, she didn’t know. But Wednesday did know that it needed to be rectified. Near-immediately. Before their excursion to town, if she could help it—

“YES. FINALLY. JESUS CHRIST!"

She wasn’t ten strides away, and already, Enid bothered her before the hour. Bothered, or rather startled her.

Wednesday craned her eyes to Enid. Enid, who, stood frigid, eyes round and face strained to another wide, toothy smile. This one curled her scars into an awkward, bent geometry. With a swallow, she explained, "…th-this is, um, our first time shopping together. Alone.”

A long, sharp exhale forced what stammer in Wednesday’s heart that shouldn’t have been, though Enid always managed, somehow. She stared for a good moment. Then: “We can stop by the funeral home, Enid. I know how to obtain a discount for a casket your size.”

Enid gulped sheepishly.

(Nothing she ever did was particularly wolfish, now that Wednesday realized.)

…

Wednesday, against her better judgement, sat herself at her desk, in her chair. Her eyes bore through Thing’s palm as he drabbled a meandering, smug tune. [You look chipper.]

“I’ll throw you in one. Quit with the shit-eating, you don’t even have a mouth.”

Thing rolled himself into a fist, exasperated. (He really should have expected this.) Then, he flopped, and waved, and signed: [Okay. Fine. But you do look…very schoolgirl.] Wednesday stared. [Without the dimples.] She frowned. [Or the giggling.]

“Don’t flatter me.”

[I know what a schoolgirl who needs advice looks like.] Thing jabbed his thumb to Enid’s blaring side of the room.

She didn’t follow his gesture. There was no need. She heard such schoolgirl who needed advice on a daily basis. But, given that, Wednesday finally relented. Because as much as this was against her better judgement, her better judgement was floundering or flipping Enid off—panicking, in other words, as she figured the mere hour before. So, she relented, and grumbled, “…it’s about her, actually.” She didn’t look at Thing. Not as he swayed his self-satisfaction, the filthy romantic. “I have decided that no one is good for Enid, and if I am to kill anyone who has done wrong by her, I might as well be by her side too.”

She glanced at him. Rocked her jaw. Blinked. Then stared into his favorite stitch. “I don’t know how to court her.”

[I knew it.]

“Doesn’t matter.”

[Don’t be like that.]

Wednesday gnawed the inside of her cheek in stewed silence. She hated it whenever Thing did that—chastised her. He was a hand. She wasn’t a child.

The moment between them throbbed a familiar strain, where the hand talked back, and Wednesday was left to configure whether or not she missed something. Which happened. A lot. Particularly with Enid and whatever bout of emotions had twisted to obscurity. Anger often was blurred with frustration, and guilt did the same. Enid was explosive, that way. Had Wednesday start to suspect that anger wasn’t an emotion at all, but rather an armor set…

She watched Thing expectantly. He drummed nonsense, then asked, [What have you done so far? ]

…that was not a good question to answer.

Wednesday stalled. Avoided him entirely.

Unfortunately for her, Thing’s drumming turned morse:

[…W E D N E S D A Y.]

She scowled. “You know I hate it when you do that,” she muttered.

Thing, once her eyes flecked back to him, beneath her desk lamp, signed, [Then look at me.] A nail leaned from the light, towards Enid’s half. [How can I help if you do not look? ]

Wednesday sat with herself for a second that felt too long. If every two shoulders were birthed with an angel and a demon on either side, Wednesday was born with only the latter, until the former spawned far too late. And that angel was Enid, and she very much wanted to flick the damn thing off.

Because this moment felt like it should be an apology. For…something. Being too calloused, or, in Enid’s words, a stone-cold bitch.

Exhaled, Wednesday begrudgingly appeased the worst part of herself: “…sorry.” She might as well have molted off her tongue. From her peripheral, however, Thing fluttered in the lamplight. He was happy about it, at least.

“Now just tell me what to do.”

Surprise teemed from his skin. [How bad were you?! ]

“Thing.”

He paused, heard the something in her voice which Wednesday didn’t know to swallow down, then signed, methodically, [Swoon then kiss her.]

Wednesday leaned forward, brows strewn together. She must have popped a vessel. “What?”

[Swoon. Then kiss her.]

She didn’t. Apparently.

[Don’t you want to court her? ] Thing continued, if tentative. Slowly, Wednesday nodded. [And…kiss her? ] Another question… [Hold hands? ] And another question… […pet names? ] And another which she couldn’t answer. Not really. They weren’t good ones, anyway.

Regardless, Wednesday managed the only semblance of one she could: “I’m not my parents, Thing." There was a consideration. "Nor Enid for the matter. I told you. I want to court her, and then kill— Dissuade anybody who tries to hurt her.”

Thing slumped, and Wednesday could practically see the disappointment pale in his fingertips. [You’re not killing Ajax.]

“I amended what I said.”

[You’re also not buying a mirror.]

Wednesday bit her inner-cheek—hoped for blood.

[Or azaleas. Or larkspurs.]

“…fine," she grated, with a gaze swept across her drawers. "And don’t steal my grocery lists.”

Thing took that as the best he would get. (It was.) He drummed again, then waved for her attention. Wednesday read closely:

[You are not romantic. I get that.

[But if you want to court her, you have to meet in the middle.

[Do something Enid would like.]

She hesitated, then leaned into the back of her seat. Something Enid would like… There were many things, too many which Wednesday didn’t know if she could stomach. She would have to, of course. Courtships were, after all, matters of covenant. A pact. A promise. Through life. Beyond death.

If only she knew what about her appeased Enid.

(The answer was everything, really. Enid’s far from picky when it came to Wednesday.)

…

Wednesday admired the roadkill. Enid looked green, though she still managed a smile or two.

They bought one wearing an astronaut’s suit.

(Enid said something about ink being her whole world. Blue moon looked far from drowning as she did.)

Then, Enid got herself a harrowing display of color vomited on a cone. With sprinkles.

She brought Wednesday her vanilla. It tasted plain. It was savored.

Throughout it all, Wednesday rummaged for their courtship. Because eyes stalked Enid. Eyes not her own.

…

“You finished the ice cream.”

They decided to walk back to the academy. Enid figured that it’d do her good to burn off the ice cream (despite the Lycan’s metabolism being the gift from the gods), and Wednesday liked to roam in the biting chill. It didn’t threaten rain, unfortunately, though the wind mused about a night of hail. That almost brought a smile to Wednesday’s face. Almost. It brought a clipped scowl to Enid’s.

“I did,” she answered, after a moment.

Wednesday felt her eyes wander to her—across her profile, down her braids. “And you’ve been…thinking this whole time,” Enid remarked, her voice awfully intimate. It got that way frequently, as of late.

Her dead-weighted stare matched the tempo to their strides, darted along each splash of color to Enid’s autumn wear. Wednesday decided those awfully intimate words felt warmer than the scarf around her neck. And that warmth was…lively. The same kind that adorned a casket before burial, as a bouquet of leaves and flowers, color and white. It was acceptable. A homely embrace.

“Yes.” Wednesday looked forward—watched for the bend down the road. Her admission stirred from her lips, quietly: “About you.”

Enid smiled, and that smile lingered as she remarked, “I mean I would hope so.” A laugh. Kind to the ears. “It’d be honestly so tragic if you weren’t.”

Wednesday merely hummed. An itch, then, plagued itself. There was no swallowing it. So she noted, “People looked at you.”

“I…” Enid sounded softer. Not like leaves and flowers, though, nor color and white. Like a lamb. Before headlights. “They…did?”

Together, they stopped dead.

As Enid reached for her scars, brushed down their lines by her fingertips, Wednesday said, “You’re a pink mess. And you're…giddy.” Amongst other things, of course. Enid was far from sore on the eyes. She was a bundle of energy, yet swift of mind, all at once. “Of course they did.” Wednesday frowned, however. For the look in Enid’s eyes looked close to drowning—though rather than to a hurricane, a still, frigid blanket. “Enid?”

She snapped back, and her eyes found Wednesday’s. "It’s nothing. Just checking my make-up.“

Neither moved. Stuck in place, locked in the passing minute.

"They’re only scars, I’ve told you,” Wednesday murmured.

“I know." She heard Enid’s armor—that non-emotion—synch in place. "But they’re still on my face, Wednesday!" she hissed. "People see these first. And when I meet new people, they’re not going to remember me as Enid, they’re just going to see a girl who probably got mauled by a stupid bear.”

This felt like another moment. Not an apology, though, no.

Yet Wednesday was twinged by the same hesitance. And that hesitance had a name, and it was one she bitterly knew well: remorse. An ugly thing.

She would mend it. Fix the guilt from Enid’s face. Keep those drowned eyes from leaking into those lines.

“I’ll give them matching ones.”

“No.”

“They can have their own to look in the mirror.”

“Wednesday, no."

She had to. Because those lines were tallies, and those tallies marked each failure. Each snide retort. The window. The taped border.

And that damn. Fucking. Manor.

…that scar, Wednesday imagined, was the deepest one. Rather than a ravine, a gorge.

"I do know some bears,” Wednesday said, almost desperate. “They would do it.”

“No!" The desperation wasn’t for naught. Because Enid’s smile bled to her voice, and Wednesday felt as though, perhaps, the gorge was an increment closer to being another ravine, then, someday, a mere trench.

Her blue moon eyes grew bright. Wednesday felt her webbed thoughts sludge again. They were thick to swallow, though she let strands coat her words: "Enid. When I look at your face, I don’t think of your scars first.”

Wednesday felt herself tip towards asphyxiation. The moment twitched. Her throat tightened.

Enid watched her. “Then…how do you think of it?” she asked, as quiet as ever. Their eyes met.

As they did, Wednesday knew one thing:

Nobody was worth Enid’s affection. Herself least of all.

Those scars would never truly heal, nor the ravines beneath her eyes, beneath her words. Wednesday did, however, want to heal. Somehow. She didn’t know how. The urge was a shadow cloaked behind her. It was mute. It didn’t say anything. But, Wednesday felt it, somewhere. And it was different from what had her tear a chest open and gut, or curl an erratic melody. Perhaps she could learn how to mend blindly, though. To reach into those eyes, and those words, and pull Enid to safety.

And she did just that. Ink clothed Enid’s blue moon, stared deep for her words. Her skin flushed beneath Wednesday’s hand. But, Enid didn’t break away. Neither did.

So Wednesday reigned her close. She heard Enid’s breath hitch, and she felt her anxiety coil to her palm.

The kiss felt like lips.

(It burned, and seared, as a prickle down Enid’s spine.)

Once broken apart, Wednesday watched her. It was…a nice thing. Better than she expected. Less than the hurricane she just subjected Enid to, but more than a mere graze of skin. Maybe. It sounded right, for the moment. Her lurking shadow fidgeted, anyway, so it had to have been.

Wednesday swallowed down a chill. Savored it, for Enid felt like vanilla. Her jaw itched to speak, and—

Wait. Oh no.

She still couldn’t think of anything.

And— And oh no her lips were actually buzzing. Slightly. Like she just kissed a bee.

“U-Uh, Wednesday…?”

“Shut up.” That lurking shadow winced. This wasn’t going well. Wednesday didn’t mean that, so to clarify, she muttered, “I’m thinking.”

“…you could just—”

“Shut up. I’m thinking.” Thinking and forgetting. Wednesday couldn’t scrounge what she thought to ask. (This, she assumed, was why Thing told her to swoon and then kiss. Enid’s mouth didn’t even feel like much, but it was still biting her on the ass. Figuratively.)

Wednesday glanced, and she caught a smug, growing smile. “Enid.”

“Yeah…?” Enid purred.

She opened her mouth, figured an insult wouldn’t help matters, and closed it. Wednesday rifled through every idea she could flounder. “Tomorrow night.” That was a start. “Grave-robbing. I have…a kit for two.” A very, very good idea. Except— Wait no. Enid looked perturbed. “I know— I know where every colonizer was buried in the town. We could…sell everything to the antique…store…”

“…grave-robbing. …okay.”

“Yes.” Wednesday, unfortunately, then found what she should’ve thought of before. So: “And…p-picnic.”

Enid brightens. There’s a nod, followed by a swift peck to Wednesday’s cheek. “It’s a date then.”

Wednesday felt her throat gravel noise. Then, she felt clockwork turn behind her ears. The hour struck, and her gut squirmed. “Was this a date?” She stared. Enid’s blue moon eyes stagnated. “Enid.” They darted. “Enid, answer me.”

“…n-no?”

“Enid. How— How many have we had?”

“U-Uh…” Enid’s grin was, of course, sheepish. “…seven?”

Hope you enjoyed! :)

#volt's library #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #wednesday show #fanfiction #ao3 #wattpad #aromantic #aro!wednedsay #wenclair #she's trying #first kiss #confessions (kinda)#reposted from last account #if this looks familiar it's because i yoinked it from my last (dead) account

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autisticprentiss · 2 years

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Sleepover

Emily Prentiss X reader.

You and Emily start cuddling to help each other sleep on away cases. It's probably not the best idea when you're both hiding feelings for the other.

Part 1/?

Not edited, and posted from mobile :/

/ Wednesday 7th, 11:55 pm. Seattle. /

You stand with the team watching Hotch talk with the motel receptionist. You can tell from the way she doesn't quite meet Hotch's eyes that you're not getting as many rooms as he's asking for.

You've been with the BAU for 6 months now and have managed to avoid sharing a room on non-local cases up until now.

Hotch takes the offered keycards from the receptionist, and heads back over to the team.

"We got two shared rooms, any volunteers?" He says.

You shrug, "I'll share," it's 5 to midnight and you know you won't be spending that much time at the hotel while you're on the case anyway, so you may as well try and get into a bed quickly.

Emily nods, "I'll room with Agent Y/N."

Hotch hands you each a key marked for room 305 and waits for anyone else to volunteer.

After a moment of silence, Hotch sighs, "Okay, Morgan and Reid; you're sharing too. Everybody get some rest, we'll meet back here at 8am."

You see Rossi and JJ both silently cheer and thank Hotch as they grab their keycards and run off like they're worried Hotch will change his mind.

Emily laughs as Morgan grumbles under his breath as he takes the other matching keycards from Hotch.

"Please, no podcasts tonight." He begs Reid and they walk off towards the elevator with Hotch.

It's just you and Emily left in the small reception area, you quickly look at her then dart your eyes to the stairwell, already starting to move when you challenge her, "Race you?"

You don't stick around to hear her reply, but you can hear her footsteps right behind you as you race up the stairwell.

You're at the door first, but the lock refuses to accept your card and Emily smirks as she unlocks the door on the first try.

"I guess we'll call it a tie?" She suggests, laughing as she drops her go-bag on the bed closest to the window.

You both go about your routines, getting ready for bed silently and whisper your "Goodnights" into the darkness.

/ Thursday 8th, 1:30am /

You turn again, bury your head in the pillow and try not to scream.

You've been trying to fall asleep for over an hour now, and everytime you feel you might be close you jolt awake.

"Trouble sleeping?" Emily asks.

You mumble, "I'm used to a weighted blanket at home, just need to adjust."

You can hear her shuffle about in her bed, before she speaks, "Come over here. Bring your bedding, I'm the big spoon." Emily's voice has a finality to it, and you know she'll just insist if you argue so you sigh and throw your pillow at her, dragging your blanket behind you.

She pulls you to lay next to her, covering you both with the blankets and shifting until she's comfortably pressed against your back.

"Sleep now," She says, throwing her arm around your stomach.

After barely 10 minutes you feel her breathing even out on the back of your neck, and you relax fully against her and fall asleep.

/ 6:40am /

You wake up slowly, warm, minutes before your alarms due to sound off. You and Emily must have both moved around in your sleep, instead of spooning you, she's now on her back with you cuddling her side like a baby koala. You have one leg thrown over her hips and your head is buried in the crook of her neck, you wish you weren't just cuddling as friends or co-workers, you want to wake up with the casual intimacy of nosing along her jawbone, trailing kisses along her skin until she stirs.

Instead, you gently nudge her shoulder, sneak in a quick boop to her nose, "Em, you might wanna wake up soon."

She mumbles something, you're not sure it's English, and pulls herself up to rest on her elbows.

"I think I know what 'well rested' means now, that's the best I've ever slept." Emily sounds surprised, and you hum.

"Maybe we should cuddle more often," you joke.

"I might take you up on that, seriously I don't even think I need coffee this morning."

"That's a shame, I was going to shout you for getting me to sleep last night."

"I said I don't need coffee, not that I didn't want it." She pouts, you pull yourself away and out of bed to where your go-bag ended up and fish your wallet out, throw it towards Emily's bed.

"3 sugars with milk please? I'm gonna grab a quick shower."

You shower quickly, just finishing up when you hear Emily come back in the room. You dry and dress quickly, heading back into the main room.

Emily hands you a coffee cup and small brown paper bag, "I brought you a crossant too."

You thank her and both of you sit at the small coffee table, flicking through the case file and sharing some thoughts while you eat.

At 7:30 Emily crumples her cardboard coffee cup and sighs, "I'll shower and we'll head down to the lobby."

"Sounds good," you nod.

/ 8am /

Emily and yourself are the first to reach the lobby, with Morgan and Reid close behind, playfully arguing with each other as they exit the elevator.

"How and why do you two look so awake and alert?" Morgan asks.

You laugh, "We didn't room with Reid," and Emily makes a mock snoring sound.

You, Morgan and Emily all laugh while Spencer glares. Hotch, Rossi and JJ exit the elevator together and everyone stands up a little straighter, ready to receive your assignments and head down to the precinct.

Hotch clears his throat, "Reid and Y/L/N you'll head to the precinct and meet with Detective Babineaux, he'll show you where we can set up a workspace. Prentiss and Rossi, go down to the mourge and see M.E Chakrabarti and the two victims' bodies. JJ, Morgan, you're with me, we're speaking to the victims' families."

Everyone nods along as he speaks, and you break off into your groups. Since the Medical Examiner's office is part of the precinct, you, Reid, Rossi and Emily share an SUV.

All thoughts of sharing a bed with Emily again are gone from your mind as you focus entirely on the cases, reading over Reid's notes while Emily drives.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #reader insert #criminal minds #i havent posted any writing since Amerikate was the biggest kate bishop ship pls give me feedback? 💕

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bihanspookies · 1 month

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My Hero has “officially” unofficially ended (leaks) so naturally i must share one of my many ocs that I will never do anything with lmao. Once again copying and pasting with little to no editing

Name: Ririko Kayama

Villain Name: Paradox

Age: 31

Birthday: March 9th

Hair: Long, wavy and light pink, curls in at the ends.

Eyes: Champagne

Distinguishing Features: Besides her scar and eyepatch, elf like ears and a beauty mark under her right eye.

Height: 5’9

Build: Tall, BOOBS, long legs, no ass :/

Scars: Over her left eye from a gang fight

Piercings: two on her ears

Tattoos: Dragon tattoo down her spine

Makeup: Black eyeliner, black/gray eyeshadow, wine colored lipstick.

Quirk: Enchantress

Like a siren, can put her victims in a hypnosis like state through an aroma that comes from her hands. Only works for about 10 minutes and the victim isn’t aware of what’s happening. Her quirk is so powerful that she could essentially command a person to stop breathing, however the more extreme the action the more energy it takes out of her. Overhaul enhances her power enough that her spit can also hypnotize a person.

History: Growing up she was always showered with compliments and at first she was awkward about it but when she got into high school she did her best to deject and turn them away. Didn’t like confrontation so whenever boys would talk to her or girls would bother her, she would ignore or politely turn them down. Some people would fake to become her friend to try and get her to do favors for them such as getting their crush to like them, however they dropped her as soon as they realized the effect goes away after a while.

Nemuri (Midnight, her sister) did her best to protect Ririko but there was only so much she could do for her and encouraged her sister to learn how to stand up and defend herself.

She didn’t have much control over her quirk (and also didn’t know if it was just by physical touch) so she wore gloves as protection but even then people would still flaunt to her. Since the girls didn’t like her they stayed away so she didn’t have friends except for Aizawa, Nemuri, and Hizashi.

One night while she was walking home, she was ambushed by a gang of four who attempted to rob her. She panicked and used her quirk on two of them, ultimately having the two men kill each other by stabbing one another. The leader got furious and kept asking her what she did and when she didn’t answer, he slashed her eye. Before things got worse, the police showed up and arrested them. They didn’t arrest/charge her but the event messed her up.

She went back to school the next day wearing an eyepatch and Hizashi and Aizawa questioned her, but she just gave a short answer saying she was attacked but she dealt with it. But the night severely traumatized her so she was having constant nightmares and with what she was dealing with at school just pushed her, so she disappeared without a trace.

She was on her own for a couple of years before Overhaul sent his men after her when hearing about her Quirk, knowing that he could use her to his advantage. Ririko denied him at first but when he told her he could help control her quirk and give her shelter, she accepted. Immediately knew it was a mistake when she got to the base but was too afraid to leave. Chisaki also told her that if she ever left or betrayed them, he would kill her. Does not know about Eri until later on when she walked in on him experimenting on her. She threatened to leave right there but then he said she owed him a debt for taking her in and housing her. She knows she could try using her quirk on him to escape but is too afraid to try. Becomes a sort of mother figure to Eri but also doesn’t stop him because of what could happen to her.

Overhaul uses her Quirk to get people to do what he wants and turns her into a deadly seductress. They also start a physical relationship and he is quick to let her know that it’s just that and nothing more. Which she don’t got a problem with lmao, she hates the process of doing the sideways tango with him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

When Shie Hassaikai got invaded she did her best to get away, not wanting to get caught. When she sees Aizawa, she freezes in her tracks and so does he. They lock gazes for a moment before she runs off again. Aizawa wants to go after her but knows he can’t, that he was there to rescue Eri.

After the raid, she ends up with the LoV and gets close with Compress.

I haven’t thought about her much after bc she doesn’t necessarily want to be a villain but she doesn’t know what else to do with herself.

I also briefly thought about her and Aizawa having a one night stand but after she leaves Hassakai and she tells him “to make love to her even though she knows he doesn’t” bc ouch! And he does bc he just wants to give her any ounce of happiness he can.

I literally don’t know wtf happened from Stars and Stripes fighting Shigaraki all the way to the end BUT I kinda played around with the idea of her marrying gang orca (BC I SAID SO LMAO!!!!!) she gets her happy ending or she ends up on the run forever!!!! Who knows!!!!

#anyway that’s it #bnha oc #bnha Ririko #bnha #can you tell how long I had this in the drafts for #whenever the last chapter leaked lmao

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pettypiastri · 2 years

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loss

matthew knies x reader

wc: 1.5k

warnings: hurt/comfort, swearing, crying, self deprecation, general sad, one moment where matty sort of punches a wall but reader is never on the receiving end of any aggression

a/n: can i write more than hurt/comfort? yes, but a bitch has a favorite. i have never written explicitly with a gn reader before but re-reading this i dont feel like i make any overt references either way so can be read as gn i think (lmk if i missed anything tho!). i wrote this in i think a single hour right after the 2022 usa wjc qf loss and have decided to post it now for no good reason. just a quick lil ficcy only minorly edited: she is beautiful to me as she is :) p.s. let's normalize typically sexual positions between characters as being the most comforting sometimes..

The team is finally given reprieve to undress from their sweaty uniforms and stand face first in a cold shower. As guys towel off, there are soft rumblings of interest in spending the night at respective significant others' hotel rooms rather than the team designated ones. Landon speaks quietly with his Captain on behalf of the room chatter. To those paying attention, Brock slips away and returns a few minutes later. Shortly after, Coach enters the room. The player’s spines shoot up straight, bracing for the impact of a verbal lashing about their poor performance. Instead, Coach Leaman barely lifts one corner of his lips.

“I’ve heard some of you are hoping to spend some time with girlfriends and families… Just make sure you’re back in your team designated hotel rooms at 10am. The bus is leaving for the airport at 10:30am sharp.”

Bated breaths are released in relief.

~~~

Matthew’s eyebrows have been knitted together for at least an hour. Whether out of genuine frustration or a constant effort not to cry, you’re unsure. You’d have to guess it’s probably both. Your fingers ache to smooth the crease and chastise him lightly for encouraging wrinkles in the space between his strong brows.

You already know what he’ll be trying to convince himself of in his head; they’re failures, poor representations of Team USA, an embarrassment given last year’s first place finish, he didn’t do enough, try hard enough… From your position on the outskirts of postgame media and the shuttling around the players are forced to do, you’ve not made contact with Matthew yet. Haven’t told him how proud you are and how much you love him. How everything in his head is wrong.

Just when your patience is wearing thin and your arms are starting to ache from being denied holding your love, there starts a steady trickle of players out of the dressing and media rooms. Matthew emerges, shoulders hunched forward and eyes shadowed by the hair he’s too dejected to push out of his face. His eyes scan slowly from behind his wet locks until they land on you. On instinct you smile softly and walk toward him. Your arms slip up his broad chest and around his thick neck, encouraging his sore body to fold into your smaller frame as much as possible.

You’re not sure if there’s anything fitting to say in this first raw moment together so you stay quiet. Your fingers thread through Matthew’s damp hair just how you know he likes. A huge breath collapses Matthew’s chest against yours. His face drops into your neck as his next inhale hitches.

“Let’s go… to uh– to yours.” Matthew mutters against your skin, a small sniffle betraying him.

“Okay baby, let’s go.” Your tone is soft as your hand slides equally gently down his arm to lace his fingers with yours.

The walk is quiet. The streets of Edmonton are nearly desert as it’s half midnight on a Wednesday. Matthew’s stride is normally a workout to try and keep up with but today you find yourself gently tugging him along.

“C’mon big guy… almost there.” Your encouragement seems to break Matthew out of a wordless trance, his pace increasing just slightly.

Through the lobby and up the elevator you lead him until you're able to get your door open. As the lock clicks shut behind the both of you, Matthew’s final walls break in the safety of your hotel room. He pulls you against his body almost desperately as he heaves a first sob. You cling to him as tight as you can to let him know you’re there but his hands are still restless; he can’t seem to hold you close enough. Matthew hoists you up, your legs moving to wrap around his waist as he presses you against the hotel wall. Now eye level with you, Matthew fits his head firmly into your neck and his arms constrict around your waist; the pressing of his body against yours meaning his exhausted arms don’t have to hold you up.

The tears are free flowing as he sobs quietly into the ‘Knies’ Minnesota jersey adorning your body. You feel your own eyes heat with emotion seeing your love so distraught.

“It’s okay Matty, I’ve got you. I love you so much. It’s okay to cry, it's just me.” With your reassurance, Matthew balls his fists in the material of your jersey and tries his hardest to bury his face even farther in your skin, seemingly trying to, futilely, escape his own. “I love you Matty… I love you baby.” Is the mantra you settle on as you stroke his hair and his back and his shoulders, never giving him an opportunity to forget that you’re right there.

“We’re– we’re a fucking em– embarassment!” Matthew spits as his shoulders shake beneath your palms. You feel your heart break a little more. “Out in the fucking… the fucking quarters!” His cry of dismay is punctuated by his palm slamming the wall beside your shoulder. You don’t worry for your safety; you know out of everything, Matthew is the most mindful of you, especially in this moment of heartbreak.

“Shh Matty shh… don’t talk like that, come on honey.” He shakes his head against your shoulder.

“What h-happened? We- we were so g-g-good before t-tonight.”

“I know my love,” you console, “I’m so sorry.” His self deprecation declines as his cries of agony take over again. It’s some while before his tears slow too.

As his breathing returns, you gently urge your sweet, broken boy to set you down. Having lost your eye level position, Matthew’s bloodshot eyes stare down at you for the first time since entering your hotel room. His face has swollen from so many tears and his upper lip is stained with snot. He wears an expression that you’ve only seen twice before; Frozen Four loss and when his Dad told him he was disappointed in him. You raise your hand to caress his cheek, sagging under the weight of self loathing and grief.

“C’mere…” With a gentle tug you guide him toward the bed in the center of the room. Matty follows without resistance. “Let’s get this off,” you say, lifting his team hoodie over his head and discarding it somewhere unimportant. You try to slip away for just a moment, but Matthew’s hand catching on your thigh protests the separation of your bodies. You're able to just barely reach for a pair of sweatpants.

“Change for me please, big guy.” He does so wordlessly and you take the second he's occupied for to slip to the bathroom. When you return, Matty is drooping again, elbows on his knees to support his head in his hands. Soft hands guide him to sitting again and before he can refold himself, you move to straddle him. His hands wind around you, face returning to its safe space in your neck.

“Lemme see your face Matty, please.” Reluctantly but compliant as always, Matthew raises just enough for you to cradle his cheek in your hand. You swipe a tissue around his under eyes and most importantly his nose. He sniffles with a pitiful pout. A cool, damp washcloth finds his forehead, urging Matthew’s eyes to flutter closed. It’s a few seconds before you move it to cover his right eye. You stamp a kiss on his forehead. The washcloth travels across every inch of his face, each contact point proceeded with a kiss before you lay it lastly against his sternum hoping the cold will ease his anxiety.

After tender hands are done cherishing, Matthew finally raises his head on his own accord. His beautiful green eyes find yours. The flecks of sadness in them have begun morphing into exhaustion. You lean forward and press your lips to his in a gentle kiss. Slowly you pull away.

“I love you,” he murmurs, staring deeply in your eyes, the intensity of his admiration comparable to his previous anguish.

“I love you,” you echo.

You place the washcloth to the side and stand up to pull back the covers so you can encourage Matthew to lay down. He does but reaches for you immediately. Without hesitation you join him, allowing him to settle atop you. When he finishes shifting into a comfortable position, you embrace him with arms around his back and legs woven with his. You finally find the right words.

“I’m so sorry Matty. I know you wanted to win gold but it’s not your fault. Everyone looked off out there from the start and Czechia fought tooth and nail. You’re an amazing hockey player and the most deserving guy. I’m so sorry but I’m still so so proud of you, always. I love you Matty.”

Matthew sighs and cuddles further into you in acknowledgement.

“Thank you. I love you too.”

You listen to his breathing even out after a while, knowing he finally feels grounded enough to think of sleep.

“You’re everything to me. I want you forever.” It’s muttered languidly, preciously, against your neck as your fingers continue running through his soft brown hair. His vulnerability makes you blush.

“You already have me… forever.”

#matthew knies #matthew knies x reader #matthew knies imagine #minnesota golden gophers #minnesota golden gophers hockey #gophers hockey #hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs #jackson lacombe #brock faber #jimmy snuggerud #logan cooley #so sorry but tagging for visibility <3 #my writing

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endlessly-cursed · 1 year

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Hello, hello everybody!

Today I will begin with a story of the early days of the fandom: it was 2021 and @slytherindisaster had published a yearbook of the HL OCs. When I saw it, I was in awe. This would later encourage me to join the fandom and create my own OCs.

Today, on this September, I want to bring back that initiative by creating my own version of the yearbook.

I. How it will be done.

Over the next last months of 2023, I will be collecting OCs from all of you to make six different versions of each OCs. It'll be divided in the four houses.

II. When will the editing begin?

Once I've gathered the OCs and personal time, about in December I should start editing.

III. When will it be out?

It'll be out between January to March 2024

IV. Rules

1. One OC of each house per user. Please choose wisely.

2. You have to follow me.

3. I will not be accepting OCs of people I've blocked. I blocked you for a reason. Go away.

4. Be patient! I have a life and many projects outside and IRL

5. In case you have +10 OCs, I will accept two more of different houses

6. Contact me your OCs through asks, Discord DMs or my own DMs

7. Professors and Staff can be included and I encourage you to send in maximum three professors!

8. The OC must have a faceclaim!

Bonus: If you have a yearbook-like photo of your OC, you'd make my job easier. Feel free to send it my way 🫶🏻

In case many of you are away, I will be accepting OCs until December 31st, 2023 before midnight and not a minute after. The moment 2024 begins, the recruiting will be over.

Thank you for being here and let the recruiting begin!

Tagging: @catohphm @hphmmatthewluther @that-scouse-wizard @cursedlegacies @cursedvaultss @cursed-herbalist @potionboy3 @gaygryffindorgal @thatravenpuffwitch @mjs-oc-corner @nicos-oc-hell @kathrynalicemc @lifeofkaze @the-al-chemist @gcldensnitch @kc-and-co @camillejeaneshphm @unfortunate-arrow

#hphl #the hogwarts legacy yearbook project 24 #yearbook project 2024 #hp victorian era #my events #yearbook project #hogwarts legacy

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phoenixyfriend · 1 year

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Would anyone like to hear about my Fun New Tumblr Glitch?

This is my help desk ticket, put in around 10:30 PM

I hit post limit earlier today, and decided to simply fill up my queue to 1000 and wait for it to reset for tomorrow. However, the number in my queue keeps going down, and the suggestion from the FAQ, that failed posts would simply return to my drafts, isn't playing out; the drafts number stays static even when the queue number goes down, and I can see that the most recent post in the queue HAS changed. It was earlier a Pride Month post about a burger king ad, and it is now a short chat-format post about The Mandalorian. The queue appears to have eaten about fifteen posts like this today.

In the twenty minutes after, sending the ticket, it ate the Mando post.

Except I kept a tab open this time, having opened a post preview, and it is. Insane

It got posted. To private? I don't know how to access my private posts without already having a link? So the dozen-plus from the last six hours? No idea where they are now. How do I locate them.

All four views were showing "can rabbis have kids" from about 6:30 PM as my most recent until midnight, when I could start posting again. The missing Mando post, in private, was showing as being posted May 11th, presumably the date I first drafted it.

I gave tumblr the updated details and my primary worries, hopefully the additional information will help. I can confirm that, now, after midnight, the eaten posts are still showing as private, but not as private posts.

Rather, if you go in to edit, they reveal themselves as preview posts (if you go to the three dots and hit preview on a post that's in queue/drafts), because they still have the Five Options instead of just save privately/publicly.

This means that the posts weren't actually posted to private. They just... remained as a post preview/draft, except they are only viewable with the links; they are not in my drafts, back in my queue, or on my blog as actual posts.

I still don't know how to find the dozen or so posts that I lost before I realized what was happening, since they haven't magically reappeared in my drafts (I checked the May 11th location in my drafts and the aforementioned Mando post preview isn't there).

We'll see?

#tumblr #weird glitches #I'm not putting this on tumblr's immediate shoulders because I don't think this is a problem that could be anticipated #both it happening and someone NOTICING it happening #personal

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hot-cocoa-addict · 2 years

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nanowrimo 2022

hi i just wanted to announce that i wrote a lot of words. i cannot remember if i even mentioned that consequences started as a nano project and was supposed to be just 50k words (that did not happen lmao). more details under the cut as i’m writing this at 12:30 am after an 8k day and so i’m just gonna word vomit about this

okay, so, for starters this is my third nano year ever and in a row. i have actually won both years previously, but always with a very desperate last push to get over the line and usually just barely before midnight. there was a rush to update with 10 minutes left on the clock here in the PNW, but not to hit 50k.

i hit 50k all the way back on the 18th of november, and in the 12 days after that i nearly doubled my word count and my goal. i hit my three highest single day word counts this year, that being: 6,130 words on the 1st; 7,306 on the 28th; and 8,087 words yesterday on the 30th. i went into this year’s nano with three goals in mind. One, and most importantly: get the fucking consequences rewrite started because i did NOT handwrite around 17k words over the month of october for my damn story outline only to not go anywhere. Two: hit 50k this year and continue my winning streak. Three, if possible: get every badge on a project for the first time by writing at least 1667 words every day. i did all three

this was not easy. i was really lucky to a) have the musical i’m in be pushed back from opening in the first week of december to opening the the second weekend of january. if this had not happened i would have been writing through tech week and as a lead in the show i’m in i simply would have not had the time. b) had very light workloads in all of my classes and my creative writing class being dedicated solely to working on nanowrimo. no my teacher does not know i wrote fanfiction and no she does not get to know. c) had a ton of support from the two local regions whose borders i technically straddle. it’s a whole thing i’m not getting into because i am not telling a bunch of internet strangers where i live, sorry guys :( this was a really long post ik but i just needed to vomit it out somewhere because i feel like this is an accomplishment worth sharing? also i’m really sorry to announce that chapter 3 ain’t going up until i finish chapter 4 and although i promise i’m really close to finishing chapter 4 i’m not letting myself touch it for the next few days. actually that brings me to another point i’m sorry this is all stream of consciousness and i cannot be effed to edit it right now but! most surprising thing of overachieving this hard?? i actually really want to write right now and am likely going to have to actively force myself to take a break for at least the next day or so. i’m not proud of everything i wrote this month but i wrote a lot that i am proud of and everything that’s on my doc feels good to me right now. For anyone else who did NaNoWriMo this year and actually read to the end of the post, I have one last heartfelt message to y’all. No matter who you are, no matter where you come from or what you do, no matter what goal you started out the month with and no matter whether it changed or not. No matter if you wrote 1k, 10k, 25k, 50k or even beyond that, you did it. You got through November. You got through NaNoWriMo. You wrote words that no one else could have, You created something else no one could have. Whatever you wrote is uniquely yours, and you took a first step that so many people never took just by writing your story down. Whether you finished your story or, like me, still have a long ways to go from where you are now, you did something beautiful and so very impressive. And if there is no one else in your life who appreciates your accomplishments, then know that I do. The first draft might suck, but that’s okay! Twice now I’ve completely thrown away my previous year’s draft; only now that I am on a third year with a third draft do I feel this that my story is actually close to about as good as it’ll get. It may take you many more drafts than me to find the version of your story you like best, but know that there will always be people out there looking forward to reading what you write. for anyone else who read this far i love you <3 (platonically) and i want you to know that even if you don’t write, if you create anything so much of what i said can apply to you too (the broad points, not the specific stuff about writing). creation of any kind is beautiful and incredible. and for any non-creative types who see this, don’t worry! you’re wonderful and have your own place in this world of ours. i really wish i had more to say to y’all who don’t do nano but im very sleepy and, again, am coming off of an 8k day already so my brain is kinda empty rn ngl. i’m gonna get this tagged and go to bed now as i’m finishing this post at about 1:00 am my time and may or may not have school in the morning if it snows again

#nanowinner2022 #nanowrimo #nanowrimo2022 #nano 2022 #overachiever #long post #ramblings #like 12:30-1:00 am kind of ramblings #this might be incoherent i apologize in advance #definitely a bit of a brag #i say bit like i didn't nearly double my goal but i'm more just trying to share my achievement #i'd get more into the reasoning but as i try to type it i realize it is for my therapist and not random strangers on the internet #that probably sounds worse than it is #also some (hopefully) encouraging words for other people who did nanowrimo under the cut near the bottom #some of this probably won't make sense if you don't know i'm a fic author #so there now you know i write fanfiction for the hell of it #almost 100k words of fanfiction in a month ig #god how does anyone write this much i still can't believe it #and i want to write more??#okay i'm going to bed now #like i really need to learn to shut up in the tags too #swear it's like writing a whole other post down here #someone needs to stop me #some day. maybe

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fearsmagazine · 3 months

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THE EXPOSED (short) - Review

DISTRIBUTOR: Pending

SYNOPSIS: After a grueling shift, a nurse returns home, unaware of the sinister presence that awaits her, a presence more malevolent than anything she could have ever envisioned.

REVIEW: Actress and filmmaker Xenia Leblanc, renowned for her portrayal of Young Red in Netflix's acclaimed series "Orange Is the New Black," ventures behind the camera without relying on CGI or VFX. Leblanc crafts a captivating 5-minute narrative reminiscent of Hitchcock's suspenseful style, showcasing her range as a storyteller and artist. THE EXPOSED had its premiere at the Dances with Films Festival in Los Angeles on June 22nd, 2024, as part of the Midnight Shorts block.

Crafting a compelling narrative in under 10 minutes is no easy feat, Leblanc masterfully achieves this by establishing a simple character, skillfully building the viewer's anticipation, and then unexpectedly flipping the story's climax - all within a concise 5 minutes. This potent combination of narrative elements, presented in a time-efficient manner, effectively sets up the climax for maximum impact.

In an era where filmmakers heavily depend on digital tools to enhance their projects, Leblanc takes a refreshing approach by relying on fundamental filmmaking tools such as a camera, lights, lenses, tripod, and editing to create her captivating shots. The brevity of her film allows for precise framing and cuts, building tension and suspense that leaves a lasting impression on the viewer. Leblanc skillfully employs misdirection, ensuring that the viewer experiences the same surprise as the characters during the climactic reveal. While the film lacks at composer credit, it incorporates a minimal score, primarily towards the end, to intensify the emotional impact of the climactic scene..

In the film, actress Mack Ogden shines as the lead, carrying the narrative with grace. She expertly crafts an emotional journey for the viewer, delivering a powerful and believable performance. Despite limited screen time to develop her character, Ogden creates a likable persona that resonates with the audience. Her ability to convey complex emotions allows us to connect with her character on a deeper level, making her performance a highlight of the film.

I strongly recommend THE EXPOSED, a captivating short film directed by Xenia Leblanc. You can explore more of her work at her website www.leblancxenia.com. I was genuinely taken aback by her prolificacy as a short filmmaker. Her portfolio boasts a diverse range of films spanning various genres, showcasing her immense talent and creativity. It's evident that Xenia Leblanc possesses a unique vision and a remarkable ability to captivate audiences with her storytelling. Based on the quality of her work, it's only a matter of time before she makes her feature film debut.

CAST: Mack Ogden, Zöe Papia, Michael McWhorter, and Zach Zarvos. CREW: Director/Screenplay - Xenia Leblanc; Cinematographer - Bill Moldt; Special EFX Makeup - Keaghlan Ashley. OFFICIAL: www.leblancxenia.com INSTAGRAM: www.instagram.com/xenialeblanc TWITTER: x.com/thexenialeblanc TRAILER: https://vimeo.com/948141442/e349bfd6f9 RELEASE DATE: Premiered June 22, 2024, at Dances With Films

**Until we can all head back into the theaters our “COVID Reel Value” will be similar to how you rate a film on digital platforms - 👍 (Like), 👌 (It’s just okay), or 👎 (Dislike)

Reviewed by Joseph B Mauceri

#film review #movie review #theexposed #Xenia Leblanc #Mack Ogden #sort #thriller #supernatural #josephbmauceri #josephmauceri

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cascallisto · 9 months

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[1.3.24]

Hello, hello! On this day, I had multiple nightmares about my teeth falling out and cracking in my mouth. I’ve noticed that everytime I choose to wear my retainer again after months or even years of not wearing it, the soreness triggers these nightmares. The nightmares are a common occurrence for me regardless of the retainers, but when I do wear them, I always have nightmares. It’s likely connected to the time I shattered my tooth on a Cheetoh, but I can’t be sure.

I woke up at 9:18, took a shower from 9:30-10:15, and completed my morning skincare routine. During this time, of course I was listening to the third episode of the Critical Role podcast to keep my mind occupied.

I journaled from 11:07-12:00. It was extremely cold, but I refused to get out of bed until I finished writing my entry for the previous day. Once I did, and I was satisfied, I finally got out of bed and bundled up in a hoodie, and I even wore socks. That’s how I knew it was bad. I never wear socks for any reason because I find them uncomfortable, but I wore them because it was just that cold.

From 12:11-2:20, I had coffee, which I forgot to mention yesterday. I love coffee, so I’m not sure how I forgot, but it was delicious. I also had spicy ramen that was wrapped in pieces of lettuce. It was very refreshing and delicious. My grandmother also forced me to have another cup of that onion tea. I chugged it because I didn’t want to nurse it all day, but it was even more potent than the day before. I finished the third episode of Critical Role as a reward.

Then I spent a majority of the day talking to my family and parents while lounging around in the living room. I wanted to read and write with my sister again, but she had things to do in the middle of the day. I talked with my mother about her

By 8:20-8:45, I took another shower and completed my night skincare routine from 9:30-10:00. I also decided to wear my retainer a second day in a row to see if I’ll have the nightmares again.

I decided that I’d been far too lazy and didn’t complete anything on my New Year's resolution list, so I edited chapter 0 of Project Demon from 11:00-12:50. I think it’s interesting that the Study Bunny app I use to track my writing progress, splits my time when the clock hits midnight. I have an hour of writing on January 3rd and 50 minutes on January 4th even though, in my mind, I consider it 1 hour and 50 minutes of writing on January 3rd. Time does love to chug along and plow through people’s days.

I spent the rest of the night/morning on TikTok until 1:30 before finally deciding to go to bed.

#cal speaks #cal's journal #january journal

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therandomavenger · 1 year

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What is Time?

I’ve been reading Jaclyn Paul’s Order from Chaos and it’s all about how you, as an adhd person, can organize your time and your living space. And it made me think about how I was structuring my days, and if I was doing that in the most efficient way.

I don’t really have much trouble getting things done lately. I make a schedule, and I pretty much stick to it. But it’s only been in recent months that I’ve zeroed in on what that structure looks like for me and why.

Research has shown that most people generally have about 6 hours of productivity in them during the day. For early birds, that can be from 6 am to noon, and then in the afternoon they need a little pick-me-up. I have never been good in the mornings, no matter how much I have tried to be. I used to think that I was a night owl, and night owls tend to be productive in the evening and nighttime, so like 6pm to midnight. And while I used to stay up that late a lot, I found that productivity was nearly impossible, because my Adderall wears off around 7pm and my brain turns to mush. I believe this is the technical term for it.

What I’ve discovered by a great deal of experimentation is that I am most productive from about 11am to 5pm every day. That puts me smack dab in the middle of the afternoon. I’ve never heard of there being ‘afternoon people,’ but I can’t be alone in this. My brain does not wake up until at least 10:30, no matter what time I actually get out of bed. And after 5pm or so, I can do mindless chores or watch TV or whatever, but if you want me to think deep thoughts about something, you’d better come back the next day. If I play with the timing of my Adderall dose, I can extend this to about 8 pm, but that’s a risky prospect. If something is really engaging, I can hang with it (which is how I deal with my D&D game, which can go as late as 10pm, but sometimes it is a struggle), but really, I shouldn’t be expecting myself to do anything major in the mornings or the evenings.

And you know what? There’s nothing wrong with that. We all have preferences for how we use and conserve our energy. If left to our own devices, we all have times of the day that work better for us. There should be no judgment for people who can’t function like others, even though our society seems to make not being an early riser a moral failing.

So, here’s how I need to structure my day.

When I first get up, I need two things: movement and sunshine. So, I need to get up early enough to take a walk outside to start the day. This really helps me ease into a productive state. On my walk I listen to audiobooks or podcasts, and I start thinking about what I’m going to write later, so I am not starting cold. I also like to schedule medical appointments early, so they are not taking up any of my productive hours. Would I sleep until noon every day if I had a chance? Absolutely! But I’ve learned that getting all of this stuff out of the way before expecting myself to do any productive work is best, so I’ve been trying to leave the house around 8am every day. This is especially important in the summer, because if I let it get too late, it will be too hot to take a walk outside. If I needed to, I could walk on my treadmill, but that is a last resort. I need to be outside, if at all possible. In the winter I have more leeway when it comes to time and have invested in a good rain slicker so I can take walks in the rain.

Then around 11am or noon, I start my hours of productive work. For me, this is when I get my writing done. I write for 99 minutes or until I’ve produced at least 2500 words, whichever comes first. (it’s 99 minutes because that’s the longest timer I can set on my Fitbit. It also dovetails nicely with my natural attention span). Once my drafting is done, I practice the guitar for 30 minutes, to give my brain a break, before spending an hour editing, if I’m in that stage with a project. This usually means I’m done with work around 3 or 4pm and can work on household chores or do something else that needs my focus.

My boyfriend usually cooks dinner after this, and I save enough energy to do the clean-up and dishes. The evenings we chill and watch TV or go shopping or whatever. And these days, I try to get to bed before 11pm. No more staying up doomscrolling until 4am!

This is the schedule that works best for me. It’s important to figure out what that looks like for you, so you can try to play to your strengths. I am fortunate that I don’t have a regular day job except when I work at the library 1-2 days a week (that shift is usually 11-2, sometimes 2-5).

It’s important to note that there’s no moral weight to any of this. Morning people are not superior to afternoon people or night owls. And sometimes, you can’t choose your schedule, especially if you have a day job and/or children at home who have schedules you might have to work around.

I also find that I need a lot of downtime in the evenings. Sometimes this is catching up with TV shows. Sometimes it is reading. But whatever it is, I need some time dedicated to not performing any productivity. It’s ok if I am productive, but it must be an accident.

Anyway, that’s what works for me. Your mileage may vary, of course. I think it’s interesting to talk about this stuff and consider how we’re all wired slightly differently. So, if it’s at all possible, figure out what your ideal schedule is and lean into it. If you have a day job that needs you awake and functioning at 7am, but you’re naturally a night owl, you might want to think about switching to something that is a more natural fit. I know that sounds like I think it’s easy. I know it’s not. I’ve found however, that I’ve been much more successful when I play to my strengths.

#blog post #adhd #time management #productivity

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59candelas · 2 years

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Hello friends, this is the edited version of Midnight Memories. All I did was just fix a few mistakes, and add some things. Hope you enjoy! -59candelas

warnings: pet names, kisses.

Tommyinnit x reader

Midnight Memories

“Y/N HURRY UP!!“

your best friend shouted up the stairs.

He said earlier he wanted to take you somewhere to tell you something. At midnight? You thought it was odd but just went with it. You were getting ready because he wanted you to wear something nice.

“IM COMMING!“

You shouted back.

You walked down wearing a light blue shirt that said Flowers from 1970 with some black pants and white tennis shoes. It wasn’t really nice, but it was better than what you normaly wore

“Come on Y/n we need to get there.“

“I’m coming Tommy.“

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You then both got In Tommys car and he was driving up a mountain?

“Uh Tommy where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there.“

“You know I’m not good with waiting!“

“Well sorry I cant make life go faster.“ He teased.

About 10 more minutes you got to a place filled with fire flys a lantern and a blanket.

“Tommy, this is so cute!“

“Awww I’m glad you like it.“ He said while hugging you.

“Can we go lay down?“ You asked.

“Sure.“ He replied.

You then both went and layed down on the blanket. Tommy was looking up at the stars when you asked Tommy a question.

“Why are you looking up there?“

“You’ve never stargazed before?“

“No whats that?“

“It’s just where you look up at the stars.“

“Ooo cool!“

Both of you looked up at the stars for a few minutes until Tommy asked you something.

“Y/n?“

“Yeah?“

“I’ve been needing to tell you this for a while now but…”

“But what?”

He told you to stand up and he would tell you.

“Y/n. We’ve been friends from the very beginning and I felt like this is the right time to say it. I love you Y/n. Even if you don’t feel the same way I understand.”

Your heartbeat was unstable and you were shaking at his words when you said.

“ I-i l-love you too Tommy.“

He smirked as you stuttered on your words.

He put his arms around your waste and you put your arms around his neck as he pulled you into a deep kiss. You almost melted when he did that. For a guy who has never kissed a girl in his life he was actually a really good kisser.

After that, Tommy pulled away and said.

“I love you babe“

You were shocked at the name but said.

“I l-love you too babe“

You then both layed down stargazeing the whole rest of the night....

59Candelas

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you guys so much for reading this! Hope you all have a nice day/night.

#tommyinnit x reader #dsmp fluff #stargazing #tommyinnit fluff #midnight #firefly

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yvesdot · 3 years

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NANOWRIMO 2021 - BINGO!

I have far too many writing priorities to focus on just one, so here's my compromise: listing them out in bingo format and doing a bit for each. At the same time as all this, I'll also be editing FC near-daily and keeping up with my Patreon. I'll update this post daily with what I worked on. Good luck, NaNoers, and best wishes to my fellow Rebels!

EDIT: NaNo is over in my timezone! Read through all my updates below, along with my final wordcount (I won!) and an updated bingo, below that cut.

NaNo ask game・my askbox

NOTE: I'm not marking the bingos bingoed until the end of the event; I don't want to consider something 'done' until I've literally run out of time to do it. Then we'll see how much I did and whether I think I've finished.

DAY 1: 8211. Spent 12 AM to 6 AM writing The Proposal and editing KAY Chapter 1 to send out for critique. The Proposal is about halfway done now, and I'm happy with my edits. Managed 10 minutes of FC edits right before midnight-- what a mess my middle is.

DAY 2: 1733. Busy day-- got some important Life Things done! Just enough time to write for about 45 minutes straight; 15 minutes fixing up FC's editing doc, then 30 minutes for this week's Patreon post.

DAY 3: 3063. Spent 40 minutes right at 12:00 AM looking over critique on KAY's Chapter 1, then another 30 or so throughout the day, then a bit more time editing The Proposal. The draft isn't as bad as I thought it would be! Still only 1/2 written, but what's there seems fun. I didn't know whether or not to count time I spent at a physical critique for KAY with other writers, but for now I won't since I simply do not seem to need it.

DAY 4: 2585. 20 minutes right at 12 continuing to read through The Proposal, just because I really find it that engaging. Of course, it is MILF4MILF. Later in the day, around 45 minutes writing up this week's Patreon post. Gotta go fast!

DAY 5: 1258. Friday, which is the toughest-- have to write just before Shabbat, and all I managed was the Patreon post.

DAY 6: 1800. Saturday. Came home and managed some more Patreon.

DAY 7: 2510. Spent the day getting all sorts of things done, but barely any time for writing; just Patreon again. Speaking of which: Patreon post is done! About winning NaNo and my journey there, of all things. Really wish I could get a little more Forest Castles in ;__; Hoping tomorrow I can do that as well as a little satirical piece I'm writing.

DAY 8: 3689. I returned to mortālēs and hit the end! It's all written! I may not know just how to attack editing it, but it's there, and that's what's important. Also managed to get my satirical piece in! No FC, though...

DAY 9: 2050. So thrilled to report I have returned to editing Forest Castles! This bit is like a difficult knot; it'll take me a while but will be very satisfying when I have it done. I've realized I spend a lot of time (30 minutes each way) on buses, so if I just take the first bus ride of the day to work on FC, I should in theory have no trouble hitting 15+ minutes of work on it a day. We shall see. Used this editing to begin cobbling together the next Patreon post (busy busy busy...) Hope to hit 50K by the 15th, though it looks like that'll be difficult.

DAY 10: 1881. Got some more FC editing done, then re-read/edited In Her Arms and did a little submissions research. It's a busy week, so I'm letting myself off the hook for not OAing today.

DAY 11: 2467. Some more light mortālēs editing, IIRC, and quite a bit of Forest Castles fun-- I watched Olympic-level sabre fencing and took some notes! I want to give Red, Avner, Eliza, and Ahava all their own distinct fencing styles.

DAY 12: 1151. How I wish I could've done more today. It was really just a bit of Forest Castles work and some waffling over other projects ;___; But, hey, Shabbat starts at 4:40 PM now. I'm going to have to kick myself into gear if I want to hit 50K by the 15th!

DAY 13: 2270. I think I managed a reasonable amount for Motzei Shabbat (post-Shabbat evening)! Posted this week's Patreon post and edited patterned seats, which I like but am worried nobody else will care about. The goal is 8K for tomorrow... we'll see if I hit it.

DAY 14: 8755. No, that is not a typo. I held an OHHOW stream (thanks to those who came!) and visited many more, and I wrote an unbelievable 8K+ words, from patterned seats to FC and finishing up with my Tell Me About The Nonbeliever outline.

DAY 15: 6695. I opened the day by writing out a new idea I've had recently (no title yet!) and later worked on an upcoming interview I have with beloved author Yah Yah Scholfield! I've just got to send the line edits back to them and we'll be releasing it ^__^ The bulk of my writing, though, was centered around my transition diary and the Nonbeliever outline from the other day. Finally, I spent a little time transferring some notes for FC into a Patreon post draft, so people can see how I've been developing that worldbuilding! No wonder I HIT 50K TODAY! Unimaginably thrilled.

DAY 16: 3402. I finished up that interview, worked a little more on the Patreon FC post, and edited more of my FC notes. I also streamed again today! Thanks so much to everyone who came ^_^ Nice to get back to normalcy.

DAY 17: 4611. A complicated bag of non-writing. Updated here, edited/submitted some flash fiction pieces, worked on my parallel post for Rebecca. Managed to work long enough to get a bit ahead on Shabbat this weekend!

DAY 18: 3523. Finished the parallels post and advertised a bit for the Blood & Breath zine overall (GET YOURSELF A COPY!) and began a short side story for Forest Castles.

DAY 19: 2402. Finished the side story at 1:00 AM. Help me! Then it was just a few more minutes of editing it left and right. I'm happy with the content; not so much with the syntax-- I'll have to take another look at it eventually. Did what I wanted to do, though, and great numbers for Friday! Shabbat started at 4:36 PM today.

DAY 20: 3200. Not thrilled about this number! Cleaned up some loose threads from the end of the week + worked on the TMATN outline, but wound up accidentally deleting the original parallel post and then funking up my 4tw word count and panicking over both. Took a lot out of me ;___; I hope to get more done tomorrow, so that I can get ahead on my 100K goal!

DAY 21: 4473. So happy! Not only did I hit a very high goal, but I also finished the TMATN outline! I'm sure it has some snags, but those are for later me to check out.

DAY 22: 3431. Today I hit 75K total! Of course, I am purposefully ahead about 1.8K of where I need to be to hit my goal of 100K, since I want to leave some wiggle room for Thanksgiving and Shabbat and Chanukah. Started working on the Hexagon outline just to move a bit further around the bingo board, and am quite enjoying it thus far.

DAY 23: 3188. Not ideal, but I got a bit done for Exhaustively and am attacking it in a new way.

DAY 24: 5538. Was accidentally moved to transsexual literary critique of an odd quote on writing, and decided to count it (since it'll go up somewhere eventually). Also did some Exhaustively work and got closer to finishing the mythical dialogue tags Patreon post.

DAY 25: 3901. Quite a bit of Exhaustively editing, and admittedly a lot of time spent fixing up my Twitch channel now that I have reached Affiliate status! Thanks so much for coming by ^__^

DAY 26. 2251. I broke 90K! Of course, I've purposefully kept ahead just for a day such as today; I knew I'd be writing less due to Shabbat. I'm very happy with what I did get done (mostly the Hexagon outline) and I hope to find some way to squash most of the rest of my bingo into tomorrow. We'll see how that goes... I was hit with some details of a new idea while on stream, so I might have to fight a few instincts.

DAY 27. 2900. I do wish I'd managed just 500 words more, but in fairness, the words came slowly-- I was working on a brand new short story for a weekly contest (couldn't be helped! plans to the wayside! inspiration takes no prisoners!) and I needed to think hard about it while writing. Broke some new research grounds and hit upon something quite nice and seasonal.

DAY 28. 4562. Finished Dressage-- that's the new short story that's shaking everything up. Edited some more Exhaustively, with my butt kicked into gear due to Max goose-books's birthday coming up in December-- I'll be binding it up into a paperback just for him!

DAY 29. 3354. Got some critique on and made some edits to Dressage. Edited Exhaustively right up until the end. Spent quite a bit of time cleaning up my Hexagon outline. HIT 100K!!!

DAY 29. 2721. Went over two problem bits in Exhaustively-- if Max signs off on them, the whole thing is finished (again)! Then switched to writing this month's Patreon Newsletter, since of course I wanted to reach the end of NaNo first. Happy NaNo! Updated bingo below, and an explanation below that.

Edit patterned seats: Done! It lacks spark, though; lacks that vital why did I write this?. I'll have to go to classic Bradbury sci-fi to see how he handled this issue.

Edit Exhaustively: Done! All that's left is to format it, put out an interest check, print a proof, etc.... This is a quite limited run, so I'm trying to relax a little ^__^

Write mortales: Done! I wrote all the way to the end, erotica and all. A writer I've shared some insecurities with wrote on the draft I handed them, you've embraced male nipples!

Write The Proposal: Begun! I've written approximately half of the draft. Another erotica, and one with a really cohesive plot; I quite like it. Hope to write more soon.

Submit Tragic Accident: Done! And several weeks to get a response, so all I have to do now is wait.

Submit YouTube Comment: Done! I got a rejection, and I'm glad I reached out. This is a really weird, niche piece, and I expect to get a hundred rejections before I find the exact right place.

Submit In Her Arms: Rethunk! This piece just isn't ready to go out. I love it, but I got a critique on it and just about nothing is working in there.

Outline Nonbeliever: Done! I'll go over it again sometime in the next few weeks to polish it up.

Outline Hexagon: Begun! Not remotely perfect, but making tons of progress on the plot.

Finish dialogue tags post: Begun! I hadn't touched this behemoth in months, and I added some words to it. I'll have to go back and re-read Your Father's Son (which I want to do anyway) and add in the relevant quotes from there... and then we'll be done!

FINAL WORDCOUNT: 103,574 words.

#Writing a new novel draft right now would be like actively struggling not to drown & using your last breath to ask for a glass of water.#txt #important writing updates #Got to go back thru DotA and handle all those tags as well... just keep things tidy in the writing spot.#And of course some bonus DotA content to post. Help help help.#Feel free to chat with me about these! I haven't spoken about all of them here.#wtwcommunity #Do you ever read a post and think yeah that guy's insane. Hope I give you that feeling every day.#(Because I think it about myself.)#nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2021 #nanorebels #nanoprep #Oh yes it's all split up into tiers. You've got editing writing submitting outlining blogging.

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itsbenedict · 3 years

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I just finished hosting a 15-person game of Mafia for some friends. One tradition we have for these games is that every death is accompanied by some themed narration, so for my game I opted to spice it up with some art on top. Had to draw it real quick since I didn't know for sure who was going to die next until it happened.

The game's theme was "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure", with the hidden subtheme that all the roles (stands) were named after They Might Be Giants (@tmbgareok) songs! A list of their powers, links to songs, and a recap of the game under the cut.

01) Mogis - 「Flo Wheeler」

02) TD260 - 「Working Undercover For The Man」

03) JGH27 - 「Good To Be Alive」

04) Raya - 「Stone Cold Coup D'Etat」

05) KK / Sahrimnir - 「Thinking Machine」

06) Spontaneous Combustion - 「The Statue Got Me High」

07) Leviwulf - 「Push Back The Hands」

08) DarkFalco - 「I Am Alone」

09) Deli064 - 「Doctor Worm」

10) Fedaykin - 「Letterbox」

11) Surge - 「I Am Alone」

12) Wikxen - 「Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head」

13) Minby - 「Where Your Eyes Don't Go」

14) Bel - 「(She Was A) Hotel Detective」

15) SnakeInABox - 「By The Time You Get This」

Bold roles were Jotunheim (Mafia), normal roles were Johnsburg (Town), and italicized roles were third parties. (Jotunheim is the realm of giants from Norse mythology! The mafia were, in fact, giants! And the town's job was to figure out who might be giants! And the two sides were Jo and Jo! JOKES!)

「Flo Wheeler」 was a town role with a power that was pretty dangerous to the user- if anyone happened to be watching or tracking when a kill took place at night, Mogis would look like they'd visited the target that night in addition to whoever actually did. It could potentially be used to catch a mafioso in a lie, but otherwise it was more of an obstacle for the town to overcome- a miller-type role.

♪ You can't do the time, therefore you didn't do the crime ♪

「Working Undercover For The Man」 was a third-party role working for the Speedwagon Foundation to perform a threat assessment. TD could win with the town, but could win and leave early if he could guess all the names or powers of every other stand in the game. He could scan a name every night, to help that along.

♪ Planning midnight raids / On our unsuspecting fans / While the roadies rig / The video surveillance van ♪

「Good To Be Alive」 was a spin on the usual town doctor role- normally, a doctor can target a player and prevent their death if they would die that night. But... JGH couldn't actually prevent deaths- just fake it. The dead would become ghosts, who couldn't vote and couldn't be killed but were still allowed to talk as if they were alive.

♪ Hello leg / such a shaky leg / Just barely more than decoration ♪

「Stone Cold Coup D'Etat」 was a third party with an unusual win condition. They had to recruit a certain number of people to a private side-chat- and then make sure all those people got killed. Plus, she could redirect anything that happened to her at night to her recruits. If the recruits figured out what she was doing and got rid of her, they'd get a boost to their power.

♪ The bark now commands the trees / The queen is overruled by the bees ♪

「Thinking Machine」 was a town role with a mysterious purpose that didn't seem to make much sense at first. Sah would get, every morning, a strange series of numbers and letters of uncertain origin. It was information, somehow, but how to use it?

♪ Tape has brightening arm connect (Wait, that didn't make sense.) / Self-paint lever itching does! (That made even less sense!) ♪

「The Statue Got Me High」 was a mafia power. As the song describes, the victim is enthralled by the monolith and forced to obey its commands, until their eventual death. That is, Spont could recruit a player to the mafia, but they'd die one night later- and if he wasn't careful, he could die and his recruit would flip back.

♪ And now it is your turn (your turn to hear the stone and then your turn to burn) / The stone, it calls to you (you can't refuse to do the things it tells you to) ♪

「Push Back The Hands」 was a passive ability that caused anything that would happen to Levi- a nightkill, an execution, some other power- to be delayed by one day, giving him some time to react. He'd be told who it was that targeted him, so going after him as mafia was risky.

♪ Screeching tires but never a collision / Endless day without a sunset provision ♪

「I Am Alone」 was a weird one. See, DarkFalco, who was mafia, didn't have a stand as such. She was the stand- and she was the stand of Surge, who was town. They were linked together in everything, meaning the mafia had to work to keep Surge alive on top of their own people. She could send messages to Surge at night to mess with him, though.

♪ Before you fire I should inform you / One of us is a double ♪

「Doctor Worm」 had no real special abilities. His ability was to be pretty good at playing the drums, a power that had absolutely no relevance in a game of Mafia.

♪ I'm not a real doctor, but I am a real worm I am an actual worm ♪

「Letterbox」 was a mafia ability that let Fedaykin pick another player, and offer that player a chance to deliver a private message to one other player of their choice. He could see the "secret" communications, though, and once per game he could edit the message before delivering it.

♪ I'll never know what you'll find when you open up your letter box tomorrow ♪

「Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head」 is a classically mafia ability, but in the hands of a town player: the ability to force another player to vote for another. Normally the manipulated person isn't allowed to say what happened, but there was no such restriction here- confusion's no good for the town.

♪ Memo to myself: do the dumb things i gotta do: Touch the puppet head ♪

「Where Your Eyes Don't Go」 let Minby pick someone else to watch him at night. If anyone visited him to target him with an ability, the person he designated would be told the names of those people. A nasty trap for the mafia, as long as Minby doesn't pick a mafioso to share the information with.

♪ Where your eyes don't go, a part of you is hovering / It's a nightmare that you'll never be discovering / You're free to come and go / Or talk like Kurtis Blow / But there's a pair of eyes in back of your head ♪

「(She Was A) Hotel Detective」 was a very powerful town role- Bel was the cop, and could scan another player's alignment at night, plus track or watch them. Except... not directly. She couldn't scan players- she could scan hotel rooms, and if other players didn't check into the hotel at night or give up their room numbers, her information was useless.

Here are the room numbers, in order: Levi (1) Snake (2) JGH (3) TD (4) Spont (5) Sah (6) Deli (7) Fed (8) Minby (9) Falco/Surge (10) Raya (11) Wikxen (12) Mogis (13).

(Oh, and Thinking Machine's codes were actually encoded versions of her results, and Sah would get a weaker version of her power if she ever died.)

♪ She's got her ear to the walls / And she's tappin' the calls / If you've got a secret, boy / Forget about it! ♪

「By The Time You Get This」 imbued its wielder with the incredible powers of... an estate lawyer! Which meant Snake could leave a will behind when he died, naming another player and casting a vote on them from beyond the grave the next day.

♪ By the time you get this note / We'll no longer be alive / But our skulls are smiling still / At the thought of things to come ♪

So! Here's how it all shook out.

Day 1: The first day is always kind of a tossup, since no one has any information yet, and everyone's just trying to verbally stir the pot. Levi soft-claims his role right out the gate, warning town not to try targeting him or else. Mogis is executed, casting a vote on himself to save the town the trouble of dealing with Flo Wheeler.

Night 1: Spont uses the statue to recruit Wikxen, at the same time that Wikxen forces Snake to vote for Levi. So, now the usually-scum power in the hands of town is in the hands of scum for real. Bel scans room 3, and learns that its occupant is innocent. Raya recruits DarkFalco, and accidentally recruits Surge alongside her, to her surprise. JGH tries protecting Levi, to test if his claim was a bluff.

Day 2: Levi tries to push JGH on the basis of having targeted him last night, but everyone agrees to wait and see if Levi actually dies first. Votes circle around Wikxen and Raya for suspicious-seeming defensiveness on Day 1, and ultimately, when it seems like Wikxen's about to be executed, a small group of players flip their votes at the last minute and vote Raya out while she's asleep and can't defend herself. Rude! She was poised to win the game for herself and the town, since she'd convinced Falco that the mafia would benefit somehow if they were all recruited.

Night 2: The mafia kills Minby- and Minby opts to tell have Fed watch him, wasting his power. Lucky for town, though, Bel happens to scan room 8, confirming Fed is mafia since he volunteered his room number. Wikxen's coat contains a furnace where there used to be a guy.

Day 3: Wikxen forced Snake to vote for J, making him look bad- but Sah begins sharing his bizarre results from Thinking Machine, and Bel confirms that they're a log of her detective power. Then she points out that Fed is mafia, and the town falls in line behind the accusation with Sah to confirm.

Night 3: Spont uses the statue to recruit Bel, to keep any more problematic scans from ruining them. Bel, before being recruited, scans room 10, though- and now the town knows there's something funky with Falco and Surge, because Sah gets the results and knows what they mean. Due to their mismatched alignments, though, the encoded version is still misleading, so there's wiggle room. TD scans Spont and learns his role name.

Day 4: Spont concocts a daring scheme. He has Bel lie and claim to have received an incriminating result on him- so that Bel will be caught in said lie when Sah produces his own results. The plan is to frame Bel, who's a dead girl walking anyway, and clear Spont's name going forward. But the town talks themselves into explaining away the contradiction- even when TD reveals Spont's stand name, and Spont denies it outright and claims 「Combustible Head」, a fake vigilante (town nightkiller) role instead, the town explains away that, too. After a few more people claim, TD260 has completed his mission- his correct guess wins him the game and he leaves. Spont cleverly excuses himself by claiming that TD lied about his role to get him to claim his "real" one. Afterwards, the town ends up executing Deli064 instead, for some reason- poor Doctor Worm!

Night 4: The evidence vanishes from Bel's charred and smoking chair- because JGH tries to protect her at the same time the mafia are killing him! Bel is a ghost now, and the town never finds out her alignment.

Day 5: Bel not dying poses a problem for the mafia, because Spont was supposed to prove his own innocence by pretending to kill her! The mafia tries to misdirect by having Bel lie again, claiming to scan room 10 when she actually scanned room 6, Sah. Ultimately, though, the town is able to coordinate behind killing Surge and Falco, which- because they're linked- is a compromise option that both parties are happy with (when perhaps they shouldn't be).

Night 5: Since Bel is technically dead, Spont recruits again, grabbing Sah and removing the threat of scans entirely. If he'd recruited Snake instead, they'd have won on the spot, since only his will-vote prevented them from winning instantly due to outnumbering the town. We move on to a somewhat redundant...

Day 6: It's now down to five players- Spont, Sah, and Bel vs Levi and Snake. The mafia technically outnumber the town, but Bel's vote doesn't count, and Sah's going to burn the next night- so the town can still win by forcing a tie and then using Snake's By The Time You Get This power to place a vote on Spont. But that's if they can figure it out and get on the same page, and... they don't. There's no way there could be three mafia still alive, so the mafia are able to sow total confusion and ultimately get the town all voting for Bel... who's a ghost, and can't vote or be executed, which the town doesn't know because JGH died before he could fully explain. The execution defaults to Snake, and the mafia win the game.

#mafia #they might be giants #tmbgareok #jojo #jjba #benedict art

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hd-fan-fair · 4 years

Photo

THE MASTERLIST OF H/D SEX FAIR 2020 FANWORKS

View the full list on [AO3] or under the cut below!

( Fanwork posted in chronological order by type )

ART

1. How hard can it be? (Digital Comic, Mature) Summary:

Harry and Draco have to stay over at their friends' places for a few weeks, since the renovation of the Grimmauld Place hadn't been completed by the time they were back from their honeymoon. That creates a slight issue with being intimate but the newlyweds are nothing if not creative...

2. Revelio! (Digital, Teen and Up) Summary:

It's that time of year again for Witch Weekly's annual charity event! By popular demand, this year they have prepared a calendar featuring the sexiest studs in the Wizarding World. Gracing the cover in style, the Hogwarts staff is represented by none other than DADA Professor Harry Potter and Potions Professor Draco Malfoy. Grab one before they're gone! Reserve your copy by owl today!

3. Handling Dragons (Digital, Teen and Up) Summary:

Harry brought over dragons to Hogwarts for a new Triwizard Tournament or for a class. Draco is hopelessly turned on by the resident Professor or Hogwarts Medic. Draco wants his dragon tickled by Harry. Unknown to him, Draco is the only dragon Harry wants to manhandle.

4. I plan on getting very wet. (Digital, Mature) Summary:

When they arrived at their private beach holiday, they didn't expect it to rain all the time. Oh well, boys can still find a way to have fun.

5. The Dragon's Boy (Digital Comic, Explicit) Summary:

Harry is chosen to be the next sacrifice to the dragon, but it turns out this dragon is interested in Harry for entirely different reasons.

6. The Art of Trust (Digital, Mature) Summary:

One piece of rope offers what Harry and Draco seek the most from each other.

7. (Intimidating) Brand New World (Digital Comic, Mature) Summary:

Draco's nervously perusing a sex shop for the first time when he sees a flash of dark hair across the store. He'd know it anywhere, but why is Potter here? And what on earth is in that box he's buying? Years of uptight parenting from his parents have left him woefully lacking in knowledge about his newfound interests. Potter's always been rather uncaring of public opinion, perhaps he could be the one to help Draco figure it all out...

ART & FIC

8. as much a light as a flame (6303, Explicit) Summary:

His mother paints a wolf on his chest, its eyes bracketing his heart, and its muzzle pointed towards his groin. His aunt fills in the spaces around his waist and ribs with symbols he's lost the meaning of in the wash of whatever plant had been mixed in with the steam. They move after her brush leaves his skin, turning from incomprehensible marks to his name to wolf to home to hunt and then back to misunderstanding again.

His legs are painted in patterned bands, starting from his ankles and ending at his upper thighs. His groin is left unmarked, the pale and empty skin meant to leave no doubt of the Claim once he makes it.

9. Starkissed (32631, Explicit) Summary:

“Your tattoos!” The intruder says, boldly stepping over Ron’s chaise and crossing in front of Hermione to get to Harry, eyes wide and hungry. Harry immediately sits up, pulling the towel draped across the back of his chair down over his shoulders. “No! Don’t cover them. They’re beautiful.” Harry hopes an indulgent trip abroad will help shake him out of the doldrums of his life. What he finds once he gets to Venice is more than he ever expected.

PODFIC

10. Infuse With Affection, Enchant With Love by bafflinghaze (1.5 Hours, Teen and Up) Summary:

It starts with Draco making protective pendants for himself, his parents, and his friends, after the war. Something that would watch their backs—and their fronts—as people spat on them in the streets and hexed them in the alleyways. Draco gets better at it, does a course on it, and takes enough commissions for charmed jewellery that he eventually opens his own shop.

But Harry doesn’t know any of this. So when he sees Malfoy in a shop of charmed necklaces, he immediately tries his best to uncover Malfoy’s machinations.

11. Things Worth Paying For (1.5 Hours, Explicit) Summary:

After leaving post-war Britain for Paris, Draco is finally happy, with friends and a job he loves, But then his newest client turns out to be Harry Potter, and everything changes.

FIC

12. Three Wishes (10161, Explicit) Summary:

Draco meets his fairy godmother and is granted three wishes. Unfortunately, they all keep coming back to the same thing.

********** Pop!

"Oh, wow," Vince says, and is that sarcasm Draco hears? "I never saw that coming."

"What?" Draco opens his eyes. He's prepared for the theatrics of the puffs of smoke—Vince, despite the sudden career change, was never blessed with an overactive imagination—but what he was not prepared for was the sight of Harry Potter, bare-chested and dressed in arseless chaps, his hands bound and mouth wrapped around a ball gag while lying face down on Draco's sofa.

13. H.A.G.S. (Hogwarts Alliance for Gender and Sexuality) (9517, Explicit) Summary:

When Hermione decides Hogwarts needs a LGBTQIA+ club, of course Ron and Harry are roped into helping. After a rocky start, Harry begins seeing the club as an opportunity to educate students and celebrate diversity and sexuality at Hogwarts. He also starts seeing it as an opportunity to snog Draco Malfoy.

14. You Don't Know Me (Like You Used To) (33106, Explicit) Summary:

"Buy me a drink as compensation for maiming me?" he asks.

"And why the hell would I do that?" It’s a perfectly valid question. A drink invitation from Harry Potter is about as likely of a scenario as me streaking down Piccadilly in broad daylight. Consider me completely thrown off.

Sometimes it only takes a week to change everything. The story of how twenty-five-year-old Draco Malfoy hit one Harry Potter with a door and knocked both of their lives into somewhere entirely new.

15. the best treasure is up Harry’s arse (2891, Explicit) Summary:

Harry and Draco probably had a tumultuous time getting together, filled with angst and denial and pining and brooding. However, this is not that story. Here, Draco makes Harry come (more than once).

16. Breakin' the Rules (3146, Teen and Up) Summary:

Harry and Draco are Auror partners. They're in a relationship that they've been forced to keep secret due to relationships between Aurors being forbidden. Harry is okay with this, as he hasn't come out to anyone other than Draco, but after a mission goes awry, their relationship is exposed.

17. The HogShagMan (31685, Mature) Summary:

Professor Potter is called upon to teach the first-ever official course on Magical Sexual Relations at Hogwarts and, in the process, must navigate the pitfalls of relationship-building, the nefarious schemings of those entrusted with school funding, and the uneven tempers of his boss and several co-workers. Clearly, only ‘the’ Harry Potter can pull it all off.

18. Let's not wait for France (17714, Teen and Up) Summary:

All Harry had wanted from his Eighth year at Hogwarts was a little peace and a little privacy but, from the moment that he stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, it was obvious that nothing was ever going to be that easy.

An accidental bond with Malfoy that resulted in them having to stay together at all times was the final straw.

Things couldn't be worse. So much to a quiet year in Hogwarts.

19. Take All That You See (19666, Teen and Up) Summary:

Draco Malfoy has only two goals for his eighth year are Hogwarts: 1) stay as invisible as possible, and 2) get enough NEWTs to be accepted at a university abroad and get the hell out of the UK. Everything is going according to plan until he is unceremoniously outed by the Daily Prophet and subsequently disowned.

Finding himself the unexpected focus of unwanted attention and harassment, he is suddenly dependent on the good will and protection of the last people he would have expected — Harry Potter and his gang of do-gooder Gryffindors (plus Luna Lovegood). With his world turned upside down, how will Draco make it through the rest of the year? And worse still, as he grows closer and closer to Harry, how will he get out with his heart intact?

20. True Children Still (34240, Explicit) Summary:

After years of dancing around each other, Draco and Harry have finally begun to date, though they're taking things slow. They've got enough to figure out as it is, and the last thing Harry needs is an unexpected introduction to desires he's not quite ready to face.

21. Asking For A Friend? (13734, Explicit) Summary:

Asking for a friend? Don't be shy! I'm Genna Russ with advice! Draco Malfoy, drag queen and agony aunt for the Daily Prophet, is very happy with his life. He loves his job. He loves his drag queen persona. And he loves the fact that the wider Wizarding world doesn't know who is offering them sassy advice with their morning news.

When he starts receiving letters from one Harry Potter – letters that are too racy to publish – he does the only thing he can do: he replies. His carefully constructed secret life is at risk of being blown wide open, but he just can't help himself. Draco never did have any self-control where the Prat Who Lived was concerned.

22. All I Have to Do (9575, Explicit) Summary:

The Patented Daydream Charm (Adult Edition) allows you to enter a top-quality, highly realistic thirty-minute sexual fantasy. Solitude and privacy spells advised.

Or: Draco finally has some alone time; Harry just needs to nip in for a book.

23. Take My Wonder (3949, Explicit) Summary:

Harry Potter is the author of very well-written children's text books. Joshua Starkweather is the author of not-so-well-written erotic fiction. Only one person knows that they are one and the same.

24. (There Is Nothing) More Than This (5431, Explicit) Summary:

Harry Potter returns home past midnight, distressed and anxious about the multiple murder case that he is leading. His husband Draco looks after him, comforting Harry with his hands, his mouth and his unwavering love.

25. the space between (what you want and what you need) (13601, Mature) Summary:

As a specialist Healer in dark magic, Draco has had his fair share of difficult cases and awkward patients. Still, nothing has prepared him for a curse-paralysed Harry Potter.

26. Walk in the sun (18233, Explicit) Summary:

Harry is perfectly content with the life he built for himself; simple and private, it helps him heal the wounds from the war. He then accepts to go out with one of Neville’s acquaintances, never expecting that decision would bring him back to his obsession for Draco Malfoy.

“That was his cue. Had Harry stopped to think about his situation, he could have left. Malfoy was nibbling at his neck, he had his hand down his pants. All things considered, a disaster incoming. And yet, his feet still refused to move. After all, he was not the stop-to-think-of-consequences kind of guy.”

(Features drunken confessions, bathrooms, a lot of smut, sexy pictures, panties, cats and only one bed)

27. You Need to Just Do Whatever You Want (7998, General) Summary:

Draco's confused when he receives a manual explaining his magical inheritance. Being a veela would be good (at least he would be prettier), and a vampire would have been fine (another excuse to hide himself in the Manor). But a descendant of the God of Love, complete with arrows and a love quota? Now that's just bonkers.

A story in which Draco is Cupid (sort of).

28. Under my Skin (8258, Explicit) Summary:

One year after the war and after Hogwarts restorations, Harry is back at school to finally finish his education. He wasn't expecting McGonagall to assign him to protect Draco Malfoy, in case he was bullied during the classes. Although really just wants to relax on his last year in Hogwarts, he'd seen how Draco had changed at the trials. He knew being around him would be easy enough... Wouldn't it?

29. Glory, glory! (16898, Explicit) Summary:

It's 2005 and Harry has recently purchased a new mobile phone so he can easily keep in touch with his friends. Little did he know that the Muggle technology would lead him down a path of self discovery and safe exploration that would lead him into the soft recesses of the last person he ever expected. As it turns out, very good things can be found in the dark.

30. Husbandly Duties (2108, Explicit) Summary:

Draco and Harry leave their wedding after-party early for some quality one-on-one time.

31. Sex, Relationships & Love (3873, Mature) Summary:

Draco Malfoy runs an anonymous sex advice column in the Witch Weekly magazine and gets hundreds of letters asking him for advice on sex, love and relationships. How was he to know that the advice he had given in response to one of those letters would result in Harry Potter showing up at his flat at 6 in the morning?

32. Disparate (6022, Teen and Up) Summary:

Ever since he went to Hogwarts, Draco realized that he wasn't quite the same as the others.

Or: Draco Malfoy over the years as he tries to understand and accept his sexuality.

33. Silver Scales in Pools of Green (26603, Explicit) Summary:

Draco is one of the last sirens of the seas, who escaped to the human world looking for friendship and food, but captivity found him instead. For seven years, he's gotten used to his life as human entertainment, and prides himself in his ability to make humans fall in step to his song.

That is, until everything falls apart when he has an audience with green eyes...

34. It's So Hard (9170, Explicit) Summary:

Draco has posed for some interesting photos, and it is currently making things very... hard for Harry.

35. On Your Shore (35113, Mature) Summary:

Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too. But both the house and Draco Malfoy have secrets to uncover, and Harry might be in deeper water than he thought.

36. A Little Less Broken (6417, Mature) Summary:

After the war Draco thought he would never feel again. But a mix of revenge gone wrong and Harry Potter, might help him to feel just a little less broken.

37. Always (20147, Explicit) Summary:

In which Draco is the (in)famous erotica writer H.J. Belladonna, writing successful scandalous novel after successful scandalous novel and hiding his true identity, and Harry is questioning his sexuality after reading one of Belladonna’s books. Until ten years after the war their paths cross again, and Harry doesn’t only question his sexuality, but also the meaning of his obsession with Draco Malfoy.

“You look like something my cat dragged in,“ Blaise said from the sofa. Draco’s sofa, in Draco’s tiny flat. “You don’t have a cat, because you’re too vain, Blaise. A cat would get hair all over your expensive clothes,“ Draco replied and then ignored Blaise in favor of going into the kitchen to get some hot sweet tea into his system. Maybe that would make his day better, even if it had just started and the potential for disaster was high. Blaise followed him. “I’ll take one too.“ “You can’t use my home as your personal hotel, Blaise,“ Draco said, but he was already grabbing two cups out of the cupboard. He was too tired to use magic, after writing the whole night, he felt like all the magic had been absorbed by his parchment. Some of his sanity maybe too.

38. Absurd. (3773, Explicit) Summary:

When Draco discovers a kink that Harry's been hiding from him, he has no choice but to explore said kink, right? Right.

39. For Want Of Five Minutes (And a Locked Door) (4333, Mature) Summary:

It’s hard enough to get five minutes to yourself in a house of five kids, nevermind getting five minutes with your boyfriend for anything else.

40. Let Out the Beast (9649, Explicit) Summary:

In the wizarding world where alphas are looked down upon for their lack of control and unseemly aggression, it is generally accepted that they are not allowed to work in places like schools and hospitals where their nature could risk the people there. When Draco Malfoy suddenly shows up at Hogwarts smelling strongly like an alpha, Harry is beyond baffled. The fact that no one else seems to catch his scent only adds to his confusion. But, of course, the most puzzling part is how Harry’s body reacts to that scent.

41. Flowers, Dildos and Other Courtship Gifts (15853, Teen and Up) Summary:

Harry Potter is the Ministry's star auror trainee, and Draco Malfoy is the cute florist in Diagon Alley who Harry stares at through the window during lunch breaks and leaves. That's all they are and all they would ever be. (Really.) Until Harry accidentally mails Draco an autumn themed dildo (among others). Cue: bad planning, owl kidnapping, and flangst.

Or two emotional gay disasters fall in love in the middle of autumn.

42. he touched me, so I live to know (4729, Mature) Summary:

Five times Harry Potter is unsure about touching someone and one time he isn’t.

43. cut my name into your lip (6321, Explicit) Summary:

Harry can't take it anymore. Seriously. If Malfoy chews on the end of his quill/licks his spoon/sucks on the papercut on his finger one more time, Harry's going to put an end to it.

44. Realities, Unfurling (45487, Mature) Summary:

Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban into a changed world.

45. The Delicate Balance of Light and Shade (13288, Explicit) Summary:

With the war finally over, Harry tries to find his own path in a world where he is free to make his own choice. On a holiday in France, he unexpectedly falls in love with art and painting. Returning to Hogwarts to help rebuild it, he is paired up with Draco Malfoy to restore the Room of Requirement - and unexpectedly falls in love with Draco. When the rebuilding efforts are done, Harry disappears.

Years later, Draco goes to Muggle London at Pansy's suggestion to visit an art gallery. The name of the Muggle artist is unknown to Draco, but the subject of the erotic paintings is shockingly familiar: it's Draco himself. It's time to confront the past and make some long-due confessions.

46. Tonight's the Night (Gonna Be Alright) (9181, Explicit) Summary:

Sex is hard to come by when you're 40 and have kids.

Or: Five times Harry and Draco tried and failed to have sex and one time they were successful.

47. The Spoiling of Sex From Enthusiastic Ignorance (6079, Explicit) Summary:

Draco is going to lose his virginity, so help him god, and he's going to lose it to one Harry Potter. Why? Because of his big cock, his status as The Top Five Quidditch Players in England, and Witch Weekly's Most-Eligible Bachelor for eight years straight. At least that's what he tells himself. Too bad first times rarely go as one plans, and now Harry is looking miserable and Draco doesn’t understand why.

48. you killed me on the moon (4906, Explicit) Summary:

'You barely know me. We do not know each other.’

‘Beyond this overwhelming need to submit to you, completely and utterly?’ Potter raises his eyebrows, stretching his scar. ‘Beyond this bone-deep awareness that you are made for me, and I for you? That our destiny was written in the stars, in the very foundation of our known world?’

An A/B/O Royalty!AU wherein a desperate Slytherin prince faces a proposal from the conquering Gryffindor king.

49. i just want your extra time and your... (9058, Explicit) Summary:

Ron should know better than to speak Latin in a magical library. If he’d just left well enough alone, instead of trying to badger Malfoy for the details of his newest novel, Harry wouldn’t have to listen to all of this chatter about how bloody decent Malfoy is, and he wouldn’t be dealing with all of these...feelings. Really, it’s all Ron’s fault that Harry’s mind is stuck on Malfoy like this again.

50. The Kisses Don’t Count, If No One Else Knows (41492, Explicit) Summary:

Minister for Magic Harry Potter does not love his job. The one bright point in his life is his secret relationship with Quidditch Super Star Draco Malfoy. When they're 'outed' by a peeping tom with a camera, Harry has to decide what's really important.

51. You Do Your Body Work, I Feel My Pulse Working Overtime (1627, Explicit) Summary:

Harry did not have an addiction to watching Draco masturbate on camera. He could stop any time he wanted to. Really.

52. Right Romantic Setting (6266, Explicit) Summary:

On the twelfth day of their romantic relationship, Draco and Harry take Albus, Scorpius and Rose on a weekend trip to Muggle London that Ron and Hermione were supposed to lead. At the fully-booked hotel where they'll be staying for the night, they're surprised to discover that their rather plain room has only one bed. It's definitely not the right romantic setting for their first night together but, as Draco comes to realise, there's good in taking things slow.

53. Portrait of a Marriage (130627, Mature) Summary:

Harry didn't want to marry Malfoy, he really didn't, but he also does want this house and Malfoy looked so smug and well - now they are married, and the house still doesn't like him, and Malfoy only looks more smug.

Draco didn't want to marry Potter, he really didn't, but he also does want this house and he never seems to be capable of escaping Potter anyway, so if he is already doomed to being married off he might as well decide for himself what he is worth, sign the papers and ignore everything wrong with that plan until physically no longer possible.

54. Regardless of desire, life hands you who you are (29803, Explicit) Summary:

When Draco finds himself wrongly accused – of course it's Potter who swoops in to save the day. Isn't it always Potter?

#hd sex fair #Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter #Harry Potter #drarry fic #drarry art #drarry podfic #drarry recs

462 notes · View notes

snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 67]

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 Part 30

Got many things to do today, though I do have a meeting in a bit over an hours, so there will be a break.

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.”

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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.

Frowning, he pulled at the blanket around his shoulder so he could wrap it and his arm around the lump that was Virgil. He brushed the boy’s hand when he did so and found it was like ice.

“You’re freezing!” Logan said. “How long have you been by the window?”

“I dunno,” he replied.

Logan was already tugging at him. “You need to get back in bed,” he said.

Virgil obeyed the pulling at his arms even as he frowned. “I’ve been colder than this before,” he said.

“That actually doesn’t make me feel better,” Logan replied dryly as he shooed him towards the bed.

He took the thicker blanket that usually stayed folded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Virgil before climbing into bed beside him.

“There,” Logan said, rubbing Virgil’s arms through the fabric of the sweater he wore to bed. He was glad he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt at least. “The runes for heating the castle should catch up within a few hours, but until then this should do. Assuming we don’t sit by the freezing window for an undetermined amount of time.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Virgil told him.

Logan sighed. “Then why did you sit by the window?”

Virgil shrugged and ducked his head a bit. Logan reached out to grab his hands to help him warm more but was surprised when one of the hands was much warmer than the other. He found his fingers were clutching a crescent shaped stone: the protection charm they’d made. Logan knew that he kept it in his pocket most of the time, but he didn’t normally see him holding it like this. It was warm to the touch, of course, indicating the safety of the room around them.

Logan looked over his face. “Are you…” he said. “Scared of the snow?”

“I don’t like the cold,” he said once again.

“You’re scared of the winter,” Logan concluded. He looked at Virgil who was far too small for his age and seemed surprised at every casual act of kindness. It was clear that his basic needs were far from being met before he came here. Logan had to wonder what winter usually meant for him. His experiences were doubtlessly very different from Logan’s own. “That makes sense,” he acknowledged, “but you don’t need to be scared of it here. The castle is always perfectly warm and safe in the winter and Mr. Deknis and Ms. Heart work hard during the other seasons to make sure we have plenty of food. There is nothing to fear here.”

He did not seem convinced.

“You don’t even have to go outside if you don’t want to,” Logan promised. “The castle is plenty big if you’d like to stay inside all winter long. It was made for the winter even without the magic devices that keep it warm. We have fireplaces and well insulated rooms even if those that ends up failing.” Logan pulled open the hand that had the protection charm just to transfer it to his other hand to warm it. “Though, while no one would force you to go outside, the snow isn’t always bad.”

“Yes it is,” Virgil said, his voice sure.

“Not all the time,” Logan insisted. “Some people love the snow.”

“They’re stupid.”

Logan laughed. “It can be fun for a while with the right equipment if you have someplace to get warm again afterwards. Royal duties slow down during the winter and Patton tends to come up with all sorts of games for both the inside and the outside to pass the time. He’s particularly proficient at snowball fights, at least against me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Play fighting,” Logan answered. “Like pillow fights, but snow.”

“I’ll stick with the pillows,” he replied.

“And then there’s a hill to sled down on the western side of the castle, and people like to build snowmen along the path.”

“What are snowmen?” Virgil asked.

They’re temporary statues made out of packed snow,” Logan explained. “Typically, they’re made of three different sized balls of snow: the largest being the base and the smallest the ‘head’ though there are some variations. After building them one typically decorates them with different articles of clothing and objects found lying around. It’s usually sticks and rocks for the face and then things like extra hats and scarfs for decoration.” He smiled softly. “When my Pa was alive, we used to steal my Dad’s crown and fanciest robes. Sometimes Pa would steal it right off of Dad’s head and we’d run away. We’d find a secluded area of the castle yards and build the biggest snowman we could as quickly as we could before we got caught. He’d usually end up letting us keep the robes, but we’d have to give the crown back since some of the metals in it would rust when wet.”

“That sounds…” Virgil’s nose twitched. “fun if you take away the touching snow part.”

Logan laughed. “It is fun,” he said. “Even with the touching snow part. Though, I admit that some of the ability for it to be entertaining does come from the fact that we could warm up afterwards with ease. You’ll enjoy Patton’s mother’s constant offering of hot chocolate during the season even if you never go outside, I’m sure.”

“Hot chocolate?” Virgil asked intrigued. His dark eyes shone brightly in the little light coming through the window. It was clear he could guess something about the drink just by the name and enjoyed the implications.

Logan smiled fondly. “It is a hot drink,” he explained. “It’s a warm drink made out of milk and chocolate. I can get you some to try in the morning.”

Virgil nodded, eyes still wide with interest.

“For now, we should sleep though,” Logan said. “Are you warm enough? I can get more blankets.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Good,” Logan said, reaching up and adjusting the blanket over them once more, tucking it around Virgil a little bit for good measure. “Goodnight Virgil,” he said.

“Goodnight,” he replied softly. Logan reached under the blankets to grab the hand that was still slightly chilly from the window between his own. Virgil’s eyes slipped closed after a moment as he nuzzle his face into the pillow. At some point they both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 36

Thomas had already been well aware that winter was on the way, but he and the rest of the castle occupants had been surprised at how intensely and suddenly it had come on. Most things were ready for the winter, but not all of them had been initiated. The fireplaces that took some pressure off the castle heating runes were cleaned out and ready, but they hadn’t been started yet. The stables for different animals on the grounds had been checked over and staff assignments had been made, but most were still in far out fields. Staff that went home for the winter months had been dismissed, but there were a few stragglers that would have to be helped home before things got worse.

He’d gone out to the main stable to talk to the three workers that were the heads of different areas of animal husbandry to make sure a plan to get everything to where it needed to be soon was in place. It took a while to figure out considering that they’d expected a little more time before the first major snowfall. Thomas also asked them to make sure all of the workers’ homes were in good enough condition for the weather. Ranch hands typically had homes on castle grounds but not in the castle themselves since they needed to be close to the animals. Thomas knew at least half a dozen of those who spent most of their times out in the fields were the type to forgot to maintain their homes because they preferred camping amongst the animals in the summer months and then would be in for a bad time when snow began to fall.

There should be enough extra rooms in the castle if they needed a place to stay until repairs could be done.

Those conversations took a good couple of hours, before Thomas was satisfied. Before trudging back to the castle through the still falling snow, he made a point to stop at one specific horse stall in the main stable. The horse turned his head to see Thomas when he stopped in front of his stall and puffed out a rather disaffected snort before sticking his head over the gate so Thomas could pat his nose. “Hello, Mr. Apples,” Thomas said.

The horse seemed to conclude he’d tolerated Thomas’s petting enough and ducked his head to nudge at his torso. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I brought you an apple. Some things never change.” He reached into his pocket to grab the red apple he’d brought the white Arabian. “At least you don’t bite me anymore.” He paused, apple slice in hand and eyed the horse’s nose suspiciously. “Do not bite me,” he said even though he hadn’t felt the animal’s teeth in a decade. It would be just like Mr. Apples to wait until his guard was down.

After a bit of scrutiny, he offered an apple slice. It was snatched out of his hand and there was a loud crunch as it was bit into.

“It’s snowing out,” he told the horse. The horse seemed to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious. “I’ll remind again that if you run out in a snowstorm, I’m not running after you, so you’d be out of luck.”

Mr. Apples snorted.

“You’re old now. You’d probably not survive long enough for people to find you. Besides, you blend in with that white fur of yours. They’d probably walk right past you a few times.”

He went back to nosing for treats as soon as he finished his first and Thomas sighed, pulling out another apple slice. “What are they not feeding you enough?” The gusto with which the horse snatched the apple slice was a very clear answer. “Well, we both know that’s not true.” Thomas fed the horse a third slice of apple when he was done with his second. “I have to get back to the castle now. Don’t be a devil horse.”

Mr. Apples threw his head a bit, splattering apple smelling foamy spittle all over Thomas’s front.

“Understood. Have a nice afternoon.”

He left Mr. Apples in his stall then, knowing he’d be well cared for no matter how ill-tempered he could be at times. He’d been a king’s horse once, after all, no matter that said king had been dead for more than a decade now.

Winters were hard.

Winters were the times when things always slowed down at the castle, where royal duties were often thin. There were a lot of memories in winter.

The trip back to the castle was not particularly long, but it was also not particularly pleasant. The snow had not been cleared away considering it was still snowing which meant his feet and legs were wet and cold by the time he made it to the nearest castle door.

He wasn’t sure if, when he entered, the castle heating runes had started to work in earnest or if he’d just been so cold that any measure of warmth was appreciated, but he was relieved to be out of the snow either way.

He decided to check up on the progress of the castle staff lighting the fireplaces. With any luck, they’d be lit already, and he could warm up even more. That in mind, he headed towards the main foyer where the largest fireplace in the castle sat to take off the chill brought in by the large front doors.

The main foyer was bustling with activity when he snuck in along the sides, giving the guards stationed around nods as he passed. The main fire in the room was burning brightly, though only one of the two smaller ones near the side exits from the room was lit. The other one was still being set up with safety mechanisms. It was good progress and assuming other areas of the castle were being set up as efficiently, he assumed they’d all be set up by nightfall.

He’d need to go check around to be sure, but for now, he walked up to the main fireplace to warm his hands.

He’d gotten into the habit when he was younger to every so often glance upwards. There had been a certain stable boy who had a propensity for climbing trees. These days, he usually found nothing when he did so, often not even consciously noticing that he’d turned his gaze momentarily skywards. Yet, today, he was startled out of his own idleness by dark brown eyes looking back at him from a small ledge in the shadows high above him.

He froze as he met the young boy’s gaze. Virgil seemed as surprised to be caught as Thomas was to have caught him.

Slowly Thomas raised one hand and waved to the boy. He slunk back into the shadows at the acknowledgment. If Thomas peered hard enough, he could see a shadow stretch up towards the third-floor balcony in the darkness and disappear over the railing.

Interesting boy.

Thomas found himself smiling despite the oddity. They still had not found out much about Virgil. He would speak to Jeffers about many things apparently, but often could not be redirected to invasive topics and he was still a bit skittish around Helen. He hadn’t willingly existed in a room with Thomas. Thomas hoped that changed at some point. There was something about him that made Thomas like him.

Chapter 37

Virgil had not spent a lot of time out of Logan’s room. What little time he had spent outside of it was either with Patton and/or Logan or tucked away in secret corridors he found in the walls where no one would stumble upon him. Yet, here he was willingly in a, well, not public by any means place, but one that was still more exposed than he was used to being in. Somehow, he was managing to not care at all.

It was helped by the fact that both Logan and Patton had been in the room at the start, but they had gone off to go… somewhere. Food sounded like it might have been the reason.

He liked food, and usually he would have been all for going to get some, but between them promising to bring him back some and the fact that he was never going to move ever again, he’d decided to stay.

Princess Marisol seemed to be the only other rational being in the whole castle because she had also not moved since discovering the contents of this room. She was currently laying on his chest purring happily.

The fireplace was a wonderful invention. Now, Virgil had, of course, warmed up by a fire before when it was cold, but this was much different. There was a grate that blocked off the fire a bit keeping it from burning the person in front of it and there was a plush rug right by it, perfect for laying down on. Someone had known what they were doing when designing this room.

He didn’t even care that the king had access to this sitting room as well as Logan.

…

Okay, so he did care a little bit, but he was ignoring that. He was probably busy this time of day anyway, right?

…

He really didn’t want to run into him after being caught watching the castle workers set up the bigger fireplaces. Kings probably didn’t like people sneaking around watching things from the shadows even when they didn’t know that the person sneaking around was literally sent to kill them.

Princess Marisol must have had a sixth sense for his anxieties (or he’d just started breathing faster and disturbed her) because she stirred a bit.

#proofread stories #not writing

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