#ah whatever. the informality of tags feels better for this. i guess.

[mscherub]

Clinging for (Emotional) Support

Prefect needs a bit of a break after a stressful day, so they seek out their favorite person...

Reader is gender neutral, referred to as Prefect or Y/N

Warnings!:

These are just my headcanons!

Light swearing (I just put this as a warning on everything cause I absentmindedly do it…)

Tags: Fluff, romantic or platonic (perceive it whichever way you'd like to), hugs and cuddles, comfort

Heartslabyul; Savanaclaw; Octavinelle, Scarabia; Pomefiore; Ignihyde; Diasomnia (you’re here :3)

Intro:

You’ve had a bad day, well, a worse one than usual, and you feel like you’re on the verge of crashing out. So, you go to one of your favorite people and you cling to them for some emotional support, not doing anything else besides holding on for dear life and nuzzling your face into their chest or shoulder, not providing one bit of information as to why you’re even doing this. But, don’t worry, they care for you a lot, maybe more so than they let on <3

Kalim ☀️:

Heyyyy! Look, one of his favorite people are coming to him and…wait, you don’t seem like yourself here. Now, Kalim is no stranger in having to cheer people up, he has like over 30 younger siblings so I bet he’s done it multiple times

Yes, yes, he is ignorant to most things, not being able to take a hint or know when to say stuff or when not to say stuff, but you’re coming to him looking all distressed, so he can at least acknowledge that

He’ll wrap his arms back around you and your mood will affect his. He’s not smiling again until you smile

“Prefect…what’s wrong? Why aren’t you smiling? Cmon…your smile is pretty like the sun! Bright and warm!”

He’ll try his best, hugging you right back and continuing to question what’s wrong, he’ll go as far as trying to buy you stuff

Please stop him

Like actually stop him, it’ll also save Jamil in the process from having to add more shit to the treasury…

“Mmmm…I’ll hug you as long as you need, just smile again. Be happy. You know you can always talk to me. I may not know what to do or say exactly, but I’ll do everything to make you happy again.”

Jamil 🐍:

He doesn’t have that much free time, you know him, so when you come to him with that defeated expression on your face, and then continue to just glue yourself to him, he’s confused and a little baffled. He has shit to do and yet here you are…

He’s used to taking care of his own problems, so excuse him for thinking you’re helpless in the moment :)

He does care, he truly does, but he shows it in his own special way

“Ah…what’s wrong? I can’t have you clinging to me like this, Prefect…I have things to do, please…”

He’s not the type to cuddle, but like some of the other guys, talk to him if you feel like it, and just as long as he can shake you off in a few minutes so he can go back to doing whatever, then it’ll be good for both sides

“You can always talk to me, I’m not against the idea. Just know I may not give the advice you’d want to hear, more so the advice you’d need to hear…sorry, share what’s on your mind, I guess I have a few minutes…”

Vil 🪞:

Lifts his arms away from you quickly and he looks at you with a baffled gaze

Again with being busy, he’s like always busy, and he has an image to keep up, but I guess you don’t really care about that right now, clearly. He’ll humor you for now, but no longer than a few more seconds or he’ll push you off…but, oh…

Alright then, this is…new from you, you’re constricting grip around his waist, but it’s obvious you’re not exactly how you usually are so he’ll pry and get to know what’s going on

“Spudling…what’s the meaning of this? I’m genuinely asking, not to be rude. Do speak about why you’re doing this…”

His arms will eventually rest around you, he’s not that mean y’all. His embrace is elegant and considerably grounding, like he knows exactly the type of comfort you needed at the moment

He’ll try and get you to talk about it as well, it’s a betterment to the mind to talk about problems, and to help the mind fully decompress from stress

“Sweet potato…I have a few minutes to spare, so let’s talk about whatever the matter is with you. I listen well and I can provide suitable advice if that’s what you’re looking for. Smile again, a joyful and happy smile can instantly turn anyways day around…”

Rook 🏹:

Ah? Trickster coming to say hello? Or not…he’ll be surprised but he won’t push you away. This is a beautiful way of expressing gratitude for someone so he’s all in. It’s quite beautiful how expressive and up front you are with your affection!

Then he’ll notice you’re not ok (pretend to notice, he knew the whole time…he kinda seen how your day went…don’t ask questions about how he knows :3) and he’ll wrap his arms back around you

Be ready for a damn mantra on this little display your putting on

“What’s this? Mon Trickster, what is with that look? Ne regarde pas si bas…lighten up!”

Talk to him about it, he does grand gestures and words, so he’ll stay with you until you let go first. Just know he’ll always have open arms for you whenever you’re feeling down

“As a hunter I just be accustomed to the emotions of others…they are de toute beauté! You are no exception, Trickster, for your smiles is as radiant as the sun at its highest peak when you are at your best! My arms are forever open if you shall need assistance, you are simply beautiful when happy.”

Epel 🍎:

You spoked him a bit, also, ew, get off of him…or wait, he might not mind it, cause like, he’s being relied on for once, and it’s you that’s doing it so, he’ll let it slide, especially cause you don’t look to hot at the moment

He can help, always, you know him, duh! So what’s up then? If he can read the situation right, you look pretty stressed so there’s that

“Hey! What’re you doin!? Erm, sorry I didn’t…you ok? No? Aright then, what’s s’matter with ya, you’re clinging awfully tight…”

With a small grumble he’ll hug you back, but very lightly, like he’s embarrassed almost, and he is, but he’s helping you out so…he guesses it’s ok

Talk about something to make it less awkward for him. He’s a good listener but he’ll probably just respond with a few hums or nods here and there

He means well

“So…I just wanna know what holding on does…you could talk with abaut things— aye! Ok, don’t gotta squeeze tighter, calm on down…yeesh, but, hey…it’ll be ok, like I said, you can always rely on me! I ain’t strong for nothing!”

Idia 🎮:

If yall expect me to be nice…

Screams, then goes quiet

He wishes he can shrivel up cause like what the hell are you doing? And more importantly, how’d you get in his room? Did ortho let you in? He had to have a talk with him…

He’s already kinda scared and he just watches as you hug him tighter like he’s not just sitting here basically dying now out of embarrassment, thanks, Prefect

“AHHHH! Prefect! What are you! Hey!!!!

But you do kinda seem stressed, and he does the same with like his pillow or what not when he’s not feeling 100%, so he gets it in a way

Just don’t make it any more awkward than it needs to be. You can ramble to him but he might not answer back that much or try and help, probably on his phone or PC…maybe if he gets comfortable enough he’ll absentmindedly rest his arms around you

“I don’t know why you chose me…but I dunno…what do people say? It’ll be ok? Yea…it’ll be ok…I guess. Don’t surprise me again like this…heh heh.”

Ortho (Strictly Platonic) 🤖:

Hiya! You’re hugging him, how sweet! He’ll giggle and hug you back, and he’ll also do a little scan because his sensors detected an unbalance in hormones specifically targeted towards stress levels…

Now he’s a bit worried due to the data he got off you, so he’ll get your input

“Prefect! What’s wrong? My scans show an imbalance…are you stressed? What happened?”

Now he’s searching up what he can do to make you feel better, he’s got a lot of answers now so he’s gonna do his best to make his friend better!

“It says here that if you discuss what’s really bugging you it can help to lower levels of stress! Also we can try other methods if you’d like!”

Malleus 🐉:

Hmmm? What’s this? Quite peculiar of you, and it’s you so he’s ok with it, anyone else most likely wouldn’t have even gotten the chance…just be lucky Sebek isn’t around

He’s just intrigued in general, it’s interesting you’re doing this, truly! He can’t really tell the difference in your emotions, just confused as to why your clinging to him, though he’ll finally question it when you won’t let go

“Child of man? What is the meaning behind this? I’m not mad, no, just curious as to why you’ve come to me. Is something the matter that you need me to help?”

He’ll wrap his arms back around you, of course, just tell him what’s going on or he’ll start to assume things and maybe the weather will start to look a bit dreary due to that…

He has all the time in the world for you, stay with him as long as you need, and if you need any further support, he’s here to provide only the best for you

You are important, after all

“What emotions are being rather troublesome for you today, Child of man? I only wish to know so I can properly define what happens to plague you with this negative onset…do pray tell, for if you are to be happy again, everyone shall be in rather high spirits. I know for certain if your mood is sullied then it indirectly affects mine…smile, Child of man.”

Lilia 🧚‍♀️:

The younger generations just seem to be getting more and more bold with each passing day apparently! How cute of you to be doing this, you can’t possibly try to be out-cuteing him…oh, no, you’re actually not

Well…he’s gonna put on his parental side here, he knows what to do, kinda, even if his methods may be a little unorthodox but, hey, thought that counts?

“My, my! Oh, what’s wrong, hmmmm? Might I add you’re absolutely adorable at the moment? Share with me your problems, deary…”

Hugs you back tight, and his hugs don’t feel fleeting, they feel nice and warm, like home almost

If you don’t talk about what’s going on, he’ll assume you don’t want to, so he’ll improvise and start telling stories of the past, a distraction method. If you give him the chance he’ll rant for a bit, but if it helps clear your mind up and take it off of whatever is bothering you, then that’s the intended effect

“Back when I was a lad, my mother used to sing songs to me when I was feeling down…I do sing rather well, but I feel stories are more appropriate for the moment— oh, speaking of stories, a hundred or some years ago a bard traveled though and shared some interesting stories, Malleus was so little back then, no more than 17 I could guess…how time flies! Oh, speaking of time—“

Silver ⚔️:

He’s caught off guard at first. He has to take a moment to actually process what’s going on before he can even respond

He’s confused still, even after noting how tightly you’re holding on, well now he’s a bit concerned cause what is this for? Are you hurt? Is someone coming after you? Are you being stalked? His mind kinda instantly goes to those scenarios…he’ll obviously ask what’s going up

“Prefect? What’s…going on? Are you in danger at all— ok, no…then what’s the…I don’t get it.”

He’ll hug you back, albeit still judging the entire situation, but he’s got you

He won’t really say much, but he’ll listen. Just try and talk about what’s going on because this is kinda nice for him…damn, he’s feeling a bit sleepy now, he’ll just close his eyes and listen—

“Mmm…mhmmm, I see…you can come to me if you’d ever need help…so…yea…just come to me…this is nice…”

Sebek ⚡️:

Bro let’s out a loud yelp and tries to get away from you, he’ll start spouting nonsense about how this isn’t acceptable behavior from you, ignoring why you’re actually “bugging” him in the first place. He doesn’t really care at first…

After you won’t give up with your ministrations of holding on, he’ll give up on trying to get rid of you

Just like Silver, he’ll suspect the reason for you doing this is because you’re in some danger of sorts because you definitely don’t normally do this…

“Human! What is this! Human! Unhand me this instant! I— …are you in danger perhaps? Where is the threat? I shall protect you.”

There’s no threat so he’s even more confused, tell him, though he still might not understand the reason for clinging to him

He’s more so a man of his words, so discuss the subject of your mental health and he could possibly help

He’s…always here for you, so don’t worry. Any close friends of Malleus are important, and that’s totally the only reason he cares, definitely not click bait, yea no

“Human…are topics on your mind troubling you? Speak freely about them, I don’t mind one bit. Mental health is just as important as physical health, and in due time if you share these bothersome thoughts I can guarantee you’ll be in better shape again…”

That’s it? I hope so…I kinda like…gave up, SORRY I LOVE POSTING FOR Y’ALL BUT ITS LIKE I HAVE MOTIVATION FOR LIKE AN HOUR AND IM LIKE “nah, I don’t wanna do this,” THEN I FORCE MYSELF…I’m ok yall <3

Thanks for reading this hot mess either way

(Also does anybody else struggle to write for Silver or is that like a me thing cause I suck, so I apologize!)

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[fligniuz]

hot for teacher - boy meets girl

luigi mangione x reader

｡𖦹°‧ dr. mangione’s job at UH Mānoa doesn’t get interesting until he meets the cute german romanticism professor in the lunch line one chance afternoon. here’s how two awkward, clueless nerds get around a workplace romance.

word count: 5.1k • ch. 1 of hot for teacher (read here!) • sfw • read on ao3

tag list : @mangionebabymama , @mangobabygirl , @jenisaswift13 , @mangionesdaisy , @iinfinitelimits , @daydreamingwithluigi , @mrs-cactus69 , @mashkatzi , @straw8berry , @bean-is-reading , @theloverfiles , @luigis-wetdream , @difensore-del-popolo , @contrarianshitstan-blog , @lunacelia (comment to be added)

warnings : f! reader; some language; luigi being geeky

notes : prepare to get schooled

Dr. Mangione does not often find himself at the campus food court.

It’s not UH Mānoa’s fault. Really, he’s found it quite a charming place to be, and he’s thoroughly enjoyed the two years he’s spent teaching Computer Science at the IT Center—he’s made other professor friends, gets along nicely with his students (even if he’s still having trouble remembering their names), and overall has found an environment that both welcomes and challenges him at once. Returning to UPenn to secure this position for himself was by far one of the best choices he’s ever made. Even though the PhD in Computer and Information Science wasn’t the most necessary thing, it was the right thing, and he’s more than happy to have earned it.

It’s just that on-campus food isn’t the most appetizing, 99% of the time.

He lives in Hawaiʻi. There’s so many different things to eat in Hawaiʻi—so many cultures and traditions from all around the world to find on this island, and yet he can hardly get some good fucking food anywhere in this university (which is quite big, mind you). Best he’s had is a chicken sandwich, and even that couldn’t compare to the one place he tried in Wahiawā a few years back. Maui Mike’s? Whatever. He wishes Maui Mike was in charge of the chicken sandwiches here.

Someone joins him in line for bento. He notices the green badge hanging from their neck, first. A fellow educator.

Admittedly, he notices the pretty face next.

“I truly hope you’re not here for the bento,” Luigi greets.

“Why?” You turn to him, eyes curious. “I’m always here for the bento.”

Oh, he feels sorry for you! Your poor soul has probably never experienced all the bento Hawaiʻi has to offer.

He shakes his head, smiling. “I love this school, but, man, the food…”

You seem to notice his own badge, then, tucked underneath the loose button of his linen shirt.

“Ah, don’t be ungrateful!” you joke. “The cooks work so hard. Have you met Koa? He’s the sweetest.”

Luigi has met Koa, about once or twice. Koa is the one who always shorts him on fries, he thinks. A sweet cook would never short faculty on fries—but maybe Koa was just having a bad day. He’ll take your word for it.

“At this point I should pack my own lunch,” Luigi says, “but I never have time for it in the mornings.”

“You like sleeping in?” you ask.

“Nah.” He shakes his head, then tilts it quizzically. “Well, maybe. I probably turn in for bed too late.”

“Let me guess: Biographical Research?”

He smiles. “Computer Science.”

“Wow!” you exclaim, moving forward in line with him. “See, I guessed bio because nobody in that department sleeps. I think they all live off of coffee and 5-Hour Energy shots.”

“I’m not huge on coffee,” Luigi reveals.

You make a quizzical face. Cute. “How can you be a professor and not love coffee?”

“I like tea better. Doesn’t mess with my stomach.”

“Now that I agree with,” you say pointedly. “Have you tried the teahouse on campus?”

He’s really gonna have to show you some better options sometime.

“I’ve never seen you around before,” Luigi says suddenly. He’s not sure why. He should’ve just stuck to the teahouse conversation.

You smile warmly at him. “We aren’t in the same department.”

“Well, what do you teach?”

“Languages and Literatures of Europe and the Americas,” you reply proudly. “Well, that’s my department. I teach German Romanticism and general Studies in Culture.”

That’s a mouthful. A very intriguing one, at that.

“Ah,” he nods. “So you’re in Humanities, then.”

“That’s right. Hawaiʻi Hall.”

He’s stopped by a few times before—mainly to catch up with Mrs. Ito, his Philosophy pal. It’s a nice place. Friendly people. He thinks you might be his favorite so far.

“You could pop in one Tuesday,” you suggest. “See me in action. 2:30 to 3:30. We’re translating some Eichendorff right now.”

He thinks he will, if it’s not too weird. A teacher among the students could be distracting. Maybe he’ll lose his badge for the day.

Luigi offers you a hand, which you shake firmly.

“I’d like that,” he says. “It was very nice to meet you.”

Dr. Mangione has got the hots for a Humanities professor. 

It starts that next Tuesday, when he walks into your lecture—sans his badge—to sit and listen to you educate your students about Das Marmorbild, apparently one of Joseph von Eichendorff’s greatest works. It seems to be one of your favorites, anyway.

“Alright, kids. What does this statue of Venus mean to Florio?”

A brunette among the rows of seats raises her hand.

“It’s an idealization of feminine beauty,” she says, “and he feels drawn to her seductive nature, as opposed to that of Bianca the maiden.”

You nod. “We could get more specific.”

Another hand rises.

“Venus is a critique of Romanticism,” the student answers. “Florio is more attracted to art than to human connection, and it nearly destroys him in the end.”

“Good,” you praise. “Eichendorff is commenting on a familiar tale in the culture of Romanticism. Florio finds himself so attracted to this statue of Venus that it disrupts his relationships with other humans in his life, like Bianca and Donati.”

Halfway through, Luigi starts taking notes. An old habit, one he only uses nowadays when he’s reading materials for his own lectures—but he finds himself so entranced with the way you discuss Florio and his affections towards this living statue of Venus, the way you recall a story he’s never read before. He thinks then that he’d like to introduce you to some of his favorite books, just to listen to you recount your thoughts in your gentle, guiding voice.

“We see this clearly in the scene at the lady’s palace,” you continue. “Later on, when Florio leaves Lucca with his friends, the palace is nothing but ruins, and Donati seems to be a figment of his wild imagination. Eichendorff is showing us that Florio neglected the company of his friends for the mystical Venus, who may or may not exist. Pietro and Fortunato make this clear when they tell Florio of the legends surrounding the temple of Venus.”

Das Marmorbild appears to be a story of yearning and, mainly for Luigi, regret. He underlines the word for emphasis.

3:30 comes faster than he expected. By the time the rest of your students are filing out of the lecture hall, Luigi is fumbling with the zipper of his backpack. Hoping you’ll notice him.

“You showed up,” you greet once the room is empty, smiling shyly. “Did I see you taking notes?”

“Oh, yeah!” he nods. You’re making your way up to the back row of seats, where he’s stationed, playing with the spiral binding of his journal. “Um, I’ve never read any Eichendorff, so it’s a bit jumbled.”

“Could I look at them?”

He slides you his notebook, the page filled with chicken scratch of impressively well-synthesized ideas and takeaways from your lesson. It takes a few moments of silence for you to read through it all, and your eyes dance happily over the word regret underlined at the bottom.

“These are wonderful,” you compliment. “You have a good grasp of Eichendorff’s style, even if you’ve never studied him. You’d do well on my quizzes.”

Luigi smiles. “You’re an incredible teacher. I learned from the best, clearly.”

Are you…blushing?

No. Surely not. He doesn’t get the chance to see before you ruffle your hair and smile back, quick and dirty. “Well, I’m flattered.”

Mental note: Luigi has got to read more Eichendorff.

He shows up to Hawaiʻi Hall once more that evening—this time with a question of his own.

“Miss,” Luigi starts. “I hope I’m not too blunt, but I wanted to pick your brain about something.”

You’re packing up your things, stuffing your bag messily. Classic professor shit.

“Oh, sure,” you reply. “I like having my brain picked.”

“You teach Studies in Culture as well, right?”

You nod. “That's right. Latin America, specifically.”

“The cultures that you’ve researched—they used computers, correct?”

A blink from you. A lilt of the head.

“I mean, not computer computers,” he elaborates, “but systems of computing. Like…an abacus, or some kind of counting device?”

“Oh!” Now you’re nodding. “Yes, of course. Most cultures did.”

“Yeah,” he nods along. “So, I wanted to ask you: would you like to join one of my lectures sometime? You could discuss early computing in Latin America, or Germany, or whatever society you’d like.”

And…Now you’re silent. Fuck. He shouldn’t have bothered. He just met you!

“You want me…to join one of your classes?”

“Only if you’d like,” Luigi assures you. “It’s just that my students are having some trouble applying their knowledge outside of the classroom. I think they’d have a better understanding of what they’re learning if someone like you came in, explained how these civilizations created their own systems to adapt to their world. It would show them that computers aren’t a new thing, and that we’ve always needed them. You get what I’m saying?”

Man, he’s blabbing. Typical Dr. Mangione.

“And…you want me to do it?”

It’s not like he knows anyone better for the job.

“I know this sounds silly,” he starts, “but I was really impressed by your class today. Really. The way you articulate your perspective, your attitude towards your students, how you engage with them…”

It’s sexy, he wants to say. Better to leave that on the table.

“I just think you’re one of the most talented professors I’ve met in this school,” he reveals, sincerely. “Do you know the last time I took notes for a class I’m not even in? Never! I’ve never done that! And yet, I was so intrigued by you that I couldn’t stop myself from writing down everything you conveyed.”

You look down towards your nails, surveying the chipped polish and clear gel underneath. Remnants of a manicure. Who bought that for you?

“Well,” you breathe. “I think I’d need some time to prepare, read over some things first.”

“Sure,” Luigi nods. 

“But, if you think it would help your students, then I’d be honored to.”

Jackpot. 

“I’m so glad!” he exclaims, clapping his hands together. Maybe too much excitement? “I think this will be great. What time is best for you to come in? I’m at the IT Center Mondays and Wednesdays, from noon to 1:30.” 

Noon to 1:30, on Mondays and Wednesdays. Good days for you. You teach on an opposite schedule: Tuesdays and Thursdays.

“Next Wednesday would be fine,” you say. “We’re almost finished with our discussion of Das Marmorbild, and I’d like to put my full attention towards that.”

“I understand,” he agrees. “Next Wednesday works fine for me, too. I’ll plan it out, get with you on the details.”

He’s probably way too eager about this. He just really wants you in his lab, showing off for all his students. They’ll be mesmerized—if they find him impressive, you’ll certainly be something.

As Luigi is walking out of your lecture hall once more, you stop him.

“Oh, Dr.?” you perk up. “You don’t have to call me ‘Miss’. Just my first name is alright.”

He’s not sure when you learned about the PhD. He likes the way “Dr.” sounds in your mouth, though.

The next Wednesday couldn’t come quicker.

You’ve planned an outline, essentially a dialogue between you and his students that covers all the bases he wanted to touch: earliest examples of computing across cultures, why these machines were developed, who made them, their importance to modern Comp Sci. Specifically, you pay attention to female engineers (or at least, the ones allowed to practice their passions at the time): Ada Lovelace makes quite the appearance in your notes, as well as classics in the field, like Alan Turing and Charles Babbage. It’s everything he wanted—a lesson in history and culture, emphasizing the importance of this kind of study, while still relevant to his subject. It couldn’t be more perfect.

Not to mention, you show up looking like a bombshell. Nice skirt and a flattering blouse and some mascara. Luigi tries not to imagine that it’s for him.

You only spend a minute on your introduction, and then you’re diving right in:

“Can anyone here tell me what one of the very first computers was?”

Steven from the front raises his hand.

“The abacus!” he answers.

Smiling, you nod. “That’s right. And where did the abacus come from?”

This time, the room is silent.

“A few cultures utilized the abacus for counting,” you explain. “Some scholars believe the Old Babylonians used it for addition and subtraction. Many Greeks used the abacus, too, largely up until the French Revolution.”

You click the remote of Luigi’s projector, and on screen, an aged photo of an abacus-like system is displayed.

“This is the Salamís Tablet, first discovered in 1846.”

“What’s Salamís?” Steven asks.

You smile again. “Salamís is the largest Greek island on the Saronic Gulf, about one nautical mile from the coast of Athens. This tablet, made of marble, was originally created around 300 BC.”

Ah. You’ve got some geography up your sleeve, too.

“Around the same time, the Chinese were using their own abacus, called a suanpan.” You click the remote again, showing the students an illustration of the very Chinese abacus you’ve described. “The prototype of this device was first observed during the Han dynasty, around 200 BC. Some schools in China still use the suanpan for math instruction.”

Luigi prays, for the first time in a long while, that his students can’t see his eyes trailing over you as you speak.

“It might surprise you that some educators still use such ancient technology to teach arithmetic,” you explain, “but, really, these old things can show us a lot about computers back in the day, and particularly, how we used them.”

You click the remote to reveal something that looks like it might come out of Dora’s backpack.

The astrolabe.

“This is one of the world’s first analog computers, or, rather, calculators,” you explain. “The astrolabe was developed from the armillary sphere, invented during the Hellenistic period.”

A student in the far left corner—Clara, maybe—raises her hand.

“How did it work?” Maybe Clara asks. “It just looks like a faded compass to me.”

You nod in understanding. “It’s a strange looking thing. Essentially, astronomers used this tool to make specific predictions about space.”

But then you falter for a bit, looking toward Luigi. 

He doesn’t blame you. Astronomy is fucking weird. It’s also not your department. Him, though? It remained a childhood dream for a reason.

“It’s like an inclinometer,” Luigi adds, facing the lab. “It can calculate altitude and local latitude of celestial bodies, and it can triangulate, too.”

“But it had some more practical applications across cultures,” you say, seemingly back on your feet. “Specifically, it was of great use to the Islamic religion. Many of you know that Muslims pray several times a day, correct?”

Some heads nod.

“Well, the timing of prayer was astronomically determined, so the astrolabe could define the specific schedule of worship. That, and Muslims must also face Mecca each time they pray, which requires precise direction. That’s where the astrolabe came in handy for them.”

“There is another Hellenistic tool, though, older than even the astrolabe,” you continue, turning to the next slide on the projector. A fragment of aged bronze is on display, with a thick X carved right into the center. 

Luigi always forgets the name of this one.

“Behold the Antikythera mechanism.”

Right. Antikythera. Sounds like a spider, or a Mortal Kombat character. Classic Greek shit.

The students do not seem impressed.

“Looking at this thing, you probably can’t imagine any good use coming of it, right?” You gesture knowingly toward the seemingly broken thing, accentuating its jagged edges and rough details. “If I told you it’s meant to be a model of the Solar System, you’d be right to laugh in my face. But if I showed you this…”

Now, you display a much clearer image, one of a machine with refined golden parts and dashes of color and limbs branching from its dome-like center, almost like a clock with extra hands.

Steven guffaws. “That’s not the same thing.”

You smile. “Not exactly the same. But a recreation.”

Luigi can’t help but return your enthusiasm. You have a way of building up to things, revealing information in a way that’s fiercely fresh and yet not too overwhelming. You’re animated—your hands move with your lips, adding emphasis and motioning toward your slideshow. It’s entrancing.

“The Antikythera mechanism was split into more than eighty fragments when it was first discovered on the Greek island of Antikythera in 1901. The man who discovered it, Valerios Stais, suggested it was an astronomical clock, but his theory was rejected. Why do you think that is?”

A student in the front raises their hand cautiously. “Nobody knew what it was?”

Giggling, you concede, “that may have been part of it. But originally, most scholars believed the Antikythera mechanism was a prochronism, a device too complicated to have been made during its time. Lots of people just couldn’t believe that its inventors had such extensive knowledge about the universe.”

The recreated Antikythera mechanism on screen deconstructs into several parts, each accordingly labeled with annotations in the model you’ve chosen.

“It turns out, though, that this thing had a network of gears that, through the zodiac, allowed it to calculate the movement of the Sun and the Moon, eclipses, moon phases, and calendar cycles. Some even believe that it could determine the location of planets.”

It seems to make more sense to the students, now that they see a refined vision. What was once a wrecked lump of bronze becomes a magnificent symbol of ancient Greek invention—a marvel of pure, human curiosity, back when words alone could not formulate the breadth of knowledge possessed by man and machine alike. 

“It’s believed that Hipparchus may have been involved in the construction of the Antikythera mechanism,” you say, “since its ability to track the irregular orbit of the Moon is consistent with his studies. His observations likely paved the way for its invention.”

Hipparchus, father of trigonometry, once walked the metropolis of Alexandria in search of the truth of the stars. His weather calendars in Bithynia led him to Rhodes, where only a minute fraction of his legacy survived among the windmills. He was a man starved for knowledge.

“Much like Hipparchus,” you begin, clicking the remote. A portrait of a sitting man with short-cropped hair and a sandy beard is shown to the students. “John Napier was a man of numbers. His study of logarithms and his invention led to significant development in the use of counting tools.”

Now, the students see an open box with several sticks inside of it, about finger length, marked with slashes and numbers.

“In 1617, he published a treatise that detailed three devices that could aid in making simple calculations,” you say. “Most importantly, he defined rabdology and his new tool, Napier’s bones.”

A student asks, “what’s rabdology?”

“That’s the term Napier picked to describe the use of the bones,” Luigi clarifies.

“Would you like to describe how they work?” you ask him, lashes fluttering.

His heart does a record scratch.

You noticed. You noticed that he likes math. And now you’re letting him step in for the parts that he particularly enjoys. Wow. Your intuition and natural guidance of the lecture stuns him, shocks him like lightning right where he stands in front of the desk.

“Uh,” he stammers, “they’re good for multiplication and division. These square notches in the bones represent a simple multiplication table, which you can use to reduce the operation into…addition.”

“That’s right,” you affirm. “You can perform division as well, much in the same manner.”

You click the remote to turn to the next slide, revealing a portrait of a man looking quite clownish—his egg-shaped cap and star-shaped collar aren’t helping the image. 

“Can anyone tell me what this guy invented?”

Now this is his favorite part.

The students don’t respond, but Luigi knows the answer. This guy is one William Oughtred of Cambridge, inventor of the slide rule. 

“Shortly after Napier published his work on logarithms, William Oughtred crafted a nifty mechanical calculator from two Gunter rules to make what we would call today the slide rule.” You click again, showing an aged illustration of Oughtred’s tool. 

“His idea didn't catch on because of some personal drama,” you explain, “but in 1677, Henry Coggeshall took his own spin on the design, creating a two-foot folding rule for measuring timber.”

The projector displays Coggeshall’s slide rule, which doesn’t look much different, but its implications prove an impressive application to unrelated subjects. 

“Several scholars of several subjects had their own takes on the slide rule, modifying it to their own needs,” you say. “In 1722 two- and three-decade scales were introduced. Mathematician Nathaniel Bowditch created a sliding rule that included both scaled trigonometric functions and aids for navigation problems. There was even a log log slide rule by Roget, which displayed the logarithm of a logarithm. We had slide rule inception.”

Luigi smiles to himself. Slide rule inception. You are so cute.

“These slide rules were used up until about 1642, when mathematician Blaise Pascal invented a mechanical calculator after fifty prototypes,” you say, clicking the remote. On the projector screen is a blueprint of a mechanism of gears, presumably Pascal’s calculator. “Pascal made three versions of his calculator: one for accounting, one for surveying, and one for science problems.”

“Pascal’s calculator was especially successful in its carry mechanism,” Luigi adds, to which you nod. “Building it required shrinking a lantern gear.”

“Nine of these calculators still exist today,” you state. “But Pascal’s calculator influenced the design of just about every mechanical calculator that came after it. And with the evolution of the calculator, everything changed.” 

On the projector is another image, this time of what appears to be a wooden loom: a tall, intricate thing, with a roll of paper hanging from one side.

“This is the first programmable loom,” you say, pointing to the man demonstrating its use. “And this is the Frenchman who invented it, Joseph Marie Jacquard. In 1801, this weaver sought an automated way to create his fabrics. Manual weaving was difficult and time-consuming, and Jacquard wanted to make that process more practical and efficient.”

Your next picture focuses specifically on that roll of paper.

“In comes the punchcards.” You gesture towards the holes pressed into the paper, silently describing the function of Jacquard’s revolutionary loom. “Jacquard used these cards to create one row of his design. These holes punched into the pasteboard tell the loom which threads to raise or pass—and after hundreds of cycles, the final piece is ready. You can think of this mechanism as the code that made his machine function masterfully.”

A few students watch with parted lips.

Nikola—Luigi thinks—raises their hand.

“And…it worked?”

You giggle. “Oh, yes. It worked very well. Jacquard was paid nobly for his invention—Emperor Napoleon and his wife Josephine even visited Lyon to see Jacquard's loom in action. In fact…”

The next image is a simple, black-and-white portrait of a man with an unfortunately receding hairline.

“I’m sure Dr. Mangione has talked some about Charles Babbage, yes?”

Luigi catches some nods around the lab. 

Oh, yes. Magnificent.

“Jacquard’s punchcard mechanism inspired Babbage in creating his own Analytical Engine, the machine that led to the birth of the very first general-use computer.”

“And what was the first general-use computer, folks?” Luigi asks.

Some voices erupt: the Z3. You grin at the mention.

A German invention, of course. He can’t convey how attractive it is that you know about the Z3. 

“The Analytical Engine created the Z3, but do we know what created the Analytical Engine?” you introduce, clicking the remote again; this time, a more complex machine appears, a collection of numbered wheels and golden ridges.

“This is the Difference Engine.” 

Luigi even turns around himself to view Babbage’s first invention; he recognizes the image you’ve chosen as the London Science Museum’s reincarnation. The Difference Engine was certainly a product of its time, despite its first full, successful build in the 1990s: he can recall that the design of Difference Engine No. 1 weighed a whopping four tons, had over 20,000 parts, and looked…like a monster, really. Efficient, but irredeemably expensive for the British government. Not Turing-complete. Still a beauty, in his eyes.

“Babbage first designed the Difference Engine in the 1820s. It works by cranking a handle, and it utilizes decimal notation to tabulate polynomial functions,” you continue. The way the words roll off your tongue has Luigi’s nerves jittering in his body, like strings reverberating on a violin. Cranking. Decimal notation. Tabulate. Polynomial functions. This truly couldn’t get any better. It’s like you’re teaching his class for him.

He points at the machine’s metal intricacies, highlighting its functions. “Notice the double-high teeth on these left sector gears, and the mirroring of the number wheels. They can count either up or down, from left-to-right. Babbage’s machine has three steps in its overall process: the first step activates the carry lever towards the back of the engine, which is what this little tab between six and seven is for. There’s also a printing compartment on the left side, which displays the values of the calculations made.”

You smile at his technical additions, nodding along. Fuck.

“Now,” you interject. “Let’s return to Babbage’s Analytical Engine for a moment. Babbage constructed the first mechanical computers, but can any of you tell me who wrote the very first computer program?”

Silence fills the lab.

Steven raises his hand. “Was it not Babbage?”

You shake your head, grinning as you click the remote to the projector.

“This is Ada Lovelace,” you say proudly, displaying her portrait on screen. “In the early 1840s, she translated a paper on Babbage’s Analytical Engine, including a set of annotations three times as long as the original transcript.”

The information you’ve presented to his students is clearly new for them—something he should loathe, but something that thrills him as he watches it play out before his own eyes, in his own classroom.

“These notes,” you continue, “are considered the very first written computer program by many historians. Lovelace was among the first to recognize that Babbage’s machines had a more practical application, a usage outside of making calculations; in her seventh annotation, she wrote out an algorithm meant to be carried out by an engine like Babbage’s, for use with Bernoulli numbers.”

And, one of Luigi’s favorite little factoids comes up:

“Babbage respected her intellect so much that he gave her a nickname: The Enchantress of Number.”

If Dr. Mangione had a nickname for you, he thinks it would be something along the lines of “The Enchantress of Hawaiʻi Hall”.

“But Lovelace was not the only one to revolutionize computing,” you say. “In comes Alan Turing.”

There’s a lot to say about Alan Turing. Perhaps underappreciated was his stint as a philosopher—but Luigi knows much of what you are about to divulge to his class.

“All of man’s computing inventions led to Alan Turing,” you explain, gesturing to a portrait of Turing from 1951. “Turing presented the first in-depth design of a stored-program computer in 1946, a project that experienced significant delays; it was during this period of developing other softwares that he designed the Turing test, which would define the standard of machine intelligence.”

“We’ll be talking a lot about the Turing test once we get to artificial intelligence,” Luigi tells the class, to no particular excitement. When you wink at him his heart skips a beat or two, and he thinks he might need to leave the room to catch some fresh air.

“It all comes down to Turing,” you reiterate. “His ideas about computers are the central foundation of modern computing. Turing-complete is the standard for all computers today.”

The final slide that displays on the projector is a timeline, starting with the abacus around 200 BC and continuing into now. You’ve marked several points on the line where significant developments in computing were made; ancient astronomical tools, Lovelace’s notes, mechanical calculators, the Z3. From start to a never ending finish.

“And…” you murmur, “that is all I have for you today.”

A few students clap, but Luigi’s enthusiasm burns the brightest in the room. He encourages them to thank you for stopping by, and then turns to you to deliver his own message of gratitude.

“Thank you, Dr. Mangione,” you say, shaking his hand. “It was a pleasure to join you.”

A pleasure. A pleasure.

The moment the clock strikes 1:30 his students are filing out of the room (some of them do take the time to smile at you, though, which boosts his hope in humanity)—but Luigi lingers by the door as you pack up your things, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“That was something special,” he says.

You glance up at him, smiling weakly. “I just hope I didn’t bore them.”

“No, no way,” he insists, shaking his head. “They were very engaged. You keep their attention better than I do.”

“You don’t have to flatter me,” you assure him.

He frowns at that. “It’s not flattery. I mean what I say. That was a wonderful lesson, exactly what I was looking for. I’m beyond impressed.”

You sigh and shuffle on your feet, opening your mouth as if you have something to say, but nothing ever comes. 

“I’m glad you agreed to this,” he adds.

Slowly, you nod. “I think I am too.”

You turn to make your way towards the door, but Luigi stops you in your tracks:

“Hey, are you still eating the bento from the food court?”

You blink, then offer a crooked grin. Like you’re amused that he remembers. “I have nothing better to eat. Why?”

“You could have something better,” he proposes, “if you grabbed lunch with me instead.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” he affirms, nodding. “I know lots of good places. Could show you where to get some actual food.”

You get quiet for a moment, still fumbling on your feet and messing with your hair. You look a little flustered.

“I think I’d like that,” you say after a while.

Thank god.

“Good,” he says. “Next week?”

“Okay,” you nod. “Next week.”

He’ll have to make a list of ideas.

For the first time since he started this job, Dr. Mangione is excited for next week.

^ divider by cafekitsune

[valleyofthelilly]

Prologue: Texts With Katsuki but You're An Exchange Student.

NEXT

Tags: Exchange student!Reader x Katsuki, Uncle Might, Bestie Izuku, Traumatic childhood, University AU, characters are 20/21, war never happened for the sake of our happiness, reader is mentioned to be from America but you can ignore that, this is an intro for context (?) i guess, will be an smau.

Life hadn't ever been kind to you, per se. The past decade had been peaceful, and with the childhood that you endured peace was the best it would get. So you appreciated and reveled in it. Living in whichever state your heart pleased and going to University with government funds, all thanks to the hero whom changed the trajectory of your life.

You should've known better than to get comfortable with this feeling, though. It was and always would be short lived. Registering for classes was the only thing on your mind at the moment. You were scrolling through different Practicum of Battle Tactics professors when your phone lit up with a call notification. A bright smile and blonde hair took up the entirety of the screen, courtesy of All Might. You picked up the phone and answered the call, brows furrowed all the while.

"Hey Uncle Toshi, long time no talk, everything alright?"

"Actually Young (y/n), we need to have a conversation, are you sitting down?"

Ah, there goes the aforementioned peace, right out the window. Cue heart attack starting now. If All Might tells you to sit down, chances are things aren't great.

"Yeah, what's up? You have me worried."

"I would tell you to calm yourself, but you reserve every right to worry in this situation. I regret to inform you that your parents are being released from jail in a month."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Fuck a heart attack, your heart stopped.

"I know, this is a lot to take in. I was told that this is the most notice they could get me as far as a release date went. I attempted to get it pushed back, or even reopen the case to see if they could get more time based on evidence found since their arrest." You heard him sigh a heavy, defeated breath through the speaker. "However there was nothing to be done on that front. I do have another option to present if you're interested." He paused, as if waiting for permission to continue before explaining.

"I'm listening." You breathed softly, anxiously.

Over the phone you heard him clearing his throat, followed by the sound of papers rustling. A sound of satisfaction was made as though All Might found whatever he was looking for. Having known the man like family since you were a child you understood first hand how messy his paperwork could get. You could only imagine the state of his desk at the moment, where you knew he was sitting due to the time difference. Part of you felt bad for interrupting his teaching schedule even though he had called you.

"Okay so," He paused as though he was reading something, "We can have you in Japan in three days. I can have the visa and your enrollment at UA University expedited."

You held your breath for a moment. You debated if you really wanted to go overseas for a year, or longer, depending on how your case played out. But the alternative was your family finding you and dragging you back to that godforsaken cult.

They had somehow survived albeit not as strong as they once were. The loss of their leaders, your parents, put a large dent in their "community" but didn't cause them to disperse. You couldn't imagine going back there.

"Alright, I'll start packing." Was the decision you made after a minute of silence. "One thing though,"

"And that is?"

"No one but faculty knows about this. I understand the importance of them knowing, should something happen. But I'm a charity case here. Everyone has read the news story about my family and then sees my quirk and eventually puts two and two together. I want a fresh start." You rambled, ending with an exasperated sigh.

"I can assure you, a fresh start is the least I can do for you. You deserve it." All Might replied sincerely and curtly, still audibly filling out and filing paperwork. You presumed it was for your transfer. "Though it will affect your quirk training, you understand this right? You can't use your quirk at it's highest output and expect people not to figure out who you are. The story was national news Young (y/n)." He sighed heavily.

"Well, yes, but couldn't you and your protégé help me train? He kept your secret for years, don't see why he can't keep mine."

"You raise a fair point. Speaking of Young Midoriya, I have a conference to attend on the day you fly in. He'll be picking you up from the airport. I've sent your flight information over already."

"Thank you Uncle Toshi, I appreciate you more than words can say."

"Don't mention it, kid. Like I said, it's the least I can do. I'll see you soon, have a safe flight!"

"Thank you! Oh-! How do I know who to look for? I have no idea what Midoriya looks like."

"Green. Look for lots of green." He said without any added context before ending the call. The line dropped and you shook your head confused, but got to packing.

~

A few days later when you landed, you understood, and you wondered to yourself how a person could be so green. Little did you know, this little green gremlin was about to be your new sidekick.

an: i'm so excited to actually churn out the texts for this SMAU but readers background/reason for being at UA is a big part of the story. i felt like it deserved its own little background. this isn't crucial to the story but will def help provide context later down the line.

[aquagirl1978]

Can i request Ellis Twilight with the prompt butterfly?

Thank you for the request

ellis twilight x reader | prompt: butterfly | word count: 750 | tags: mentions of blood and violence; a bit angsty

It was a perfect evening. The sky above was a painted canvas, shades of pale pink and muted purples blending together, highlighted by the last golden rays of the sun, as day shifted into night; an early autumn breeze kissed the air, a much needed reprieve from hot summer months. 

Except it wasn’t. There was nothing perfect about it.

You were walking hand in hand with Ellis, and the streets were quiet. Too quiet. Instead of providing a sense of calm one doesn’t get while living at Crown castle, the quiet was the perfect breeding ground for intrusive thoughts to invade your head. 

“Are you okay?” Ellis asked, his soft voice pulling you from your melancholy. Finching, you slowed your steps and tilted your face towards his. Ellis continued to speak, his voice still soft in the still air. “You haven’t been yourself since we left…”

His voice trailed off, allowing you to fill in the blanks in your head – the docks. 

“How can anyone…” You paused, then forced yourself to continue, the scene at the docks – and the smell of blood – still fresh in your head. “... be okay after witnessing that?”

The scene was grisly, more grisly than any scene you had ever witnessed before. The mission was supposed to be simple – well, simple was a relative word when compared to other Crown missions. Go in, scare some goons, get the information, and get out. With Jude taking charge and Ellis acting as his assistant, it should have been simple. 

You smelt the salty sea air before you saw the water, the waves crashing loudly against the restraining walls signaling that you were close. Jude was a few steps ahead, ready to warn you of any trouble ahead.

“What in blazes…. What’re ya doin’ here?”

Ellis stopped and bowed his head. “Ah, Jude, not again. Whatever happened to being quiet?” Ellis muttered to himself. He caught your gaze and tilted his head towards Jude’s voice. “Let’s go. Hopefully, I don’t have to save his ass again.”

“Lemme guess, Victor got all the information he needed and yer skippin’ straight to the execution.”

A light, melodic laugh filled the air. “That’s right.” 

You glanced over at Ellis. “William’s here?”

Ellis sighed. “I’m so sorry.” 

You didn’t have a chance to wonder why Ellis was apologizing; instead, you were distracted by a butterfly that slowly glided across your path, its large orange wings still easy to spot in the waning daylight. 

It must still be looking for a place to rest for the evening, you thought to yourself. There was a twinge in your heart as you watched the butterfly flapping its bright wings, fluttering in the sky. 

Knowing what would most likely happen, a part of you hoped it would find a more peaceful place than here at the dockyards.

“Let’s go,” Ellis whispered, tugging on your arm.

And like that, the butterfly was gone, off to find a place to sleep for the night. 

“Take this knife and slit your throat.”

Ellis pulled you into an embrace, his long arms wrapping around your waist, and placed a gentle kiss upon the crown of your head. “If I knew it was gonna happen like that, I would have never brought you tonight.”

Closing your eyes, you saw William’s face. His smile, despite having just murdered those men. The drops of blood splattered on his cheek. Blood that matched his eyes. Blood that wasn’t his.

“This is my life,” Ellis continued. “This is the darkness I live with every day. It’s a part of me. And sometimes I forget you’re not used to that part of my life.”

Nuzzling your face against his chest, the scent of freshly washed linen comforted you.

Ellis tilted your face with his thumb so that you were looking up at him. “Why don’t we get you a hand pie. I think the stand is still open.”

“It's going to take more than a hand pie to make me feel better,” you said with a small smile.

“I'll do anything to make you happy.”

That’s right, Ellis absolutely would. Taking his hand, you walked off together towards the stand. Ellis wouldn't be able to erase the events of tonight, but he was able to soothe you and make things easier. 

Not long ago, you felt like the butterfly, lost while searching for your place to rest. Glancing over to Ellis, his profile handsome against the darkening skies, you knew you finally found your place. 

Tagging: @redheadkittys @themiscarnival   @coral-relevium @cyberk1ee    @kookie-my-little-sunshine    

@ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer   @nightghoul381 @randonauticrap @xbalayage

@xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia

@lunaaka @ikesenwritings @sh0jun @natimiles @valkyyriia

@candiedcoffeedrops @lucyw260   @nightfoxqueen

[icryaboutit]

It was all acting?!

SUMMARY: Imagine, somewhere in the timeline of Twst, Vil asked for GenZ!Yuu's assistance when one of the actors failed to show due to reasons. So GenZ!Yuu of course agreed to it cause why not. And the real kicker to it all is that the person they were replacing is a lover who got their heart broken, so crying was involved. Now IMAGINE, the sheer amount of suppressed trauma GenZ!Yuu have finally had a reason to come out.

or something along those lines

TAGS: Male Yuu, OOC, Angst?

WORD COUNT: 1,290 words

"What do you mean, they can't come?!"

The high-pitched voice of Vil's manager echoed through the place, garnering much attention from nearby crowds.

"Keep quiet Adeline, you are garnering unwanted attention."

Vil's calm yet somehow tired voice came from behind his manager, making her look at him with a distressed expression.

"How can I stay calm Vil! One of our actor is unreachable! And today is a big day!"

She exclaimed, clearly today's event was something that was of great importance. Which it is, the current event at play may help Vil rise in more fame, hell! It might even help him finally beat Neige LeBlanche.

"I know how important this is Adeline. But there is no need to fret and stress over something that we couldn't have known would occur."

"But Vil-!"

"Hmm? What's going on?"

This snapped the two out from their own world arguing, when a familiar voice had interrupted their talk.

"Ah, potato, what brings you here?"

Vil greeted, as Yuu stood there with some things in hand.

"Rook had asked of me to deliver this for you Vil-san."

Yuu said as he gave the stuff on his hand to Adeline.

"Thank you potato."

"No problem~ Rook promised to give me some trinkets for this trip so it wasn't really free labor."

Yuu explained with a shrug, as Vil looked at him up and down with calculating gaze. Feeling this, Yuu decided to make a quick ran for it.

"Well, then... I'll be off no-"

"Wait a minute, potato."

'Damn!'

"What is it Vil-san..?"

Yuu cautiously asked, knowing whatever Vil halted him for would end up in a disaster.

"Potato, how would you like to star in-"

"No thank you~!"

Yuu sweated bullets as he declined Vil's offer in a swift move,

"You haven't even heard the proposal yet potato."

"Whatever Vil-san was about to say, my senses were telling me that such sacred duties are bound for a much fortunate soul~!"

In short, "Hell, no, fuck off!" was what Yuu wanted to give off which was brutally ignored by Vil's next choice of words.

"Oh~? Do you think my eyes would deceive me once I see talent potato? You must have mistaken me for someone else's personality."

In short, "Give up, you have no choice." And thus, getting the message, Yuu was added in the list of actors at the last minute.

"Where did Yuu go?! I can't find him anywhere!"

"Henchman! Where are you!?"

"Maybe he just went to the bathroom?"

"HUMAN! REVEAL YOURSELF! YOU MUSN'T MAKE WAKA-SAMA WAIT!"

"You guys need to calm down..."

"Bold of ya ta even think they'll just calm down."

Currently, a group of first years were looking for a certain Yuu who still hasn't come on their meeting place.

Despite their current shenanigans, all of the first years were deeply worried as they wondered what kind of mess Yuu had gotten themselves involved in just by being in the area.

*Ping*

The sound of the notification on all of the first years' phones rang, informing them of the message that they had received.

Opening the message they were greeted by a text from the same person they were looking for.

YesImYuu: Can't make it guyz~!😥 Vil-san has me trapped!😭You guyz can go ahead and go🤧😞 AND BETTER BE ON TIME!😤

"..."

"So he's fine, good to know."

Jack who was the calmest exhaled in relief knowing that Yuu was alright. He then proceeded to push the flabbergasted group towards the entrance.

"So I can say whatever I want?"

"Yeah, we just need a way for people to gather towards us so that the plot can be constructed... I guess, I'm not sure either."

Yuu was conversing with his partner who was as clueless as him, since the one who got information about everything was the one who was currently unavailable.

"Okay... So like, do you have anything particular topic in mind?"

"Well I mean, we just need to cause a commotion that will enable Schoenheit-senpai and the female lead to meet through the crowd. And we thought, what better crowd gathering option there is but a lover's quarrel..."

At the mention of the words lover's quarrel, Yuu had a bright idea popping into his mind.

"Oh~! Then how about-"

And this was the start of the famous lover's quarrel, staring the prefect of NRC and some dude from Pomefiore.

The play had started, and just as Vil and his manager had expected, the theme garnered a lot of attention. Adeline only prayed that the scene where Vil and the female lead would end up meeting would be a success. Considering that Vil had made a choice to add an outsider the last minute.

The moment that scene appeared, the first years who were either only there for the free food, or because of some reasons or just genuine support, had their eyes widen at the sight of Yuu with some pomefiore guy as they argued in the background their voices inaudible.

Not to mention the prefect had a dress on, along with longer hair, and makeup that brought out his feminine side.

It wasn't only the first years who were shocked. Everyone who was somewhat close or friends with Yuu was flabbergasted and shocked to see him acting on the stage. Even more shocked as the play continues.

"Who are you referring to?"

Yuu's face contorted into that of confusion and anger.

"Camilla."

The man spat with a look of indifference. The fake crowd on the stage was now genuinely intrigued by what was happening with him and Yuu, as they crowded over the two who were "arguing".

"Why would I care about her?!"

"Because I care about her!!"

At the sudden explosion of emotion from the man the people couldn't help but flinch at it.

Yuu who was on the receiving end looked like he wanted to scoff at the unbelievable proclamation.

"Morning, noon, and night I care about her!.. And you hurt her."

The man looked angrier by the second, the look of insanity dancing in his eyes. Yuu on the other hand was silent, but his eyes told everyone his true feelings on the matter.

"If you hurt her... You hurt me."

There was silence as there was tension, the people watched in great apprehension as they watched the scene unfold.

The man held a broken and emotionless smile, as he stared at Yuu who held and expressed nothing on his face.

"Camilla is who I want, that is where my loyalties lie, that is who my priority is."

"Not the mother of your children?"

Gasps were heard as a big revelation came. The sky darkens as the weather visibly shifted to a much gloomier setting.

"Don't bring the boys into this."

"Alright, not the woman you married!!"

"I refuse to be blamed any longer for this grotesque misalliance! I wash my hands of it!"

It was then that thunder strike, yet none were paying any attention to the weird weather changes as they watched the two on stage.

*Slap*

It was also the time that Yuu seemed to have enough, as he raised his hands in the air, a resounding slap echoed through the stage. Yuu looked at the man with an unreadable expression, but the tears that fell from his eyes held every ounce of emotion that was left for the man in front of him.

Gasps were heard, and the sudden movement made the crowd move suddenly, as they unconsciously pushed off a woman from the crowd, who happened to be the female lead. Only to be caught by Vil, who happened to have positioned himself there.

Nothing about that act was in the plan. But in the end, the play ran smoothly.

[smg4-new-gen]

Perfect

Inside SMG4 castle, the blue and purple meme guardians were playing video games with their four kids, Beeg, Eggdog, Suzy and Ivy.

It was a fun family hangout and for Suzy this was her chance to confess something that has been in her mind the last couple of days. She paused the game and decided to speak.

Suzy: Soooo… there is this girl…

Everyone looked at her with surprise, with the exception of Ivy, her twin, she was confused.

Ivy: Wait, since when you’re out of the closet-?

Three: Shshshsh! We’re talking about that later! A girl you say?

Suzy: Yeah! Heh, weeks ago Hinata dragged me to a clothes shop and, sure, it was boring and everything but then… I saw her

Suzy: A pretty girl, the owner of the store actually… Curly brown hair, dark skin with freckles, dress up nicely with light blue clothes and geez, she was the most gorgeous girl I ever seen…

The indigo sweater girl daydreams about the girl and has a huge goofy smile on her face. A few giggles from her fathers and brothers were heard, the only one who wasn’t laughing was Ivy, she had a bad feeling about all of this. Beeg then throws a plushie to Suzy to make her fall off her cloud and get back to reality.

Suzy: OI!

Suzy throws the plushie back and just earns a laugh from Beeg. She then looks at the blue shirt girl and gives her a confused look.

Suzy: Ivy, you’re good?

Ivy: Sort of -she shrugged- I mean, good for you but I don’t know…

Suzy: What? You’re jealous that I have a crush on someone?

Ivy: Pfff, no! There is something that I can’t put a finger on, like a bad feeling- You know what, just ignore me. But is that girl really that pretty?

Suzy: Geez… very~ I never saw such a beautiful girl before… you know what it is better? She has gorgeous blue eyes!

Four: Guess she get that from you

Three: Shut up!

The kids laughed after seeing their parents.

Suzy just couldn’t stop thinking how perfect that girl was, never saw someone like her before and really wants something with her. She should start working on her courage to ask her out.

— — — — — — — —

???: You don’t think it is weiiiiird the fact that you have information about those kids?

???: No. This is my job, Rita. Keeping information of everything~

Rita: Stil…. Weird Hartley. But why did she ask for it? What is she planning?

Hartley: Don’t know. But whatever it is, we are helping her, no?

Rita: -the mouse rolled her eyes and sighed- Yes, but-

Hartley: Ah hah!

The computer head found a file from their bookshelf and took it, an indigo folder with the tag name of “Snitchy Girl”. They walked out of their room and the mouse jumped off the chair and followed them.

Both of them were heading to one of the many rooms of the studio, one in particular that had a camera sign on the door. Hartley knocked on the door and waited for an answer before they could enter.

???: Come in

The computer opened the door of the room. It was a recording room with three people inside, a blue ghost, a TV head and a robot. They were watching one of the recordings from the recent film they recorded, the robot took their eyes off the screen and quickly went with the computer.

???: You found it?

Hartley: You bet your red bow tie, my little princess~

The computer show the folder to the robot and they quickly grab it and open it, this is exactly what she needs.

???: Say Zizi… you told me you have more of this?

Hartley: But of course, my-

???: Hartley you can't be serious-

Hartley: Hush now, Doug -they said to the ghost- I have all the information that you might need for eh… -they look at the robot with the red tie- For what exactly do you need that information?

???: Right Stella, my dear. What exactly is in your mind?

Stella: -she just giggled and closed the folder- Don’t worry daddy Puzzles, I have aaaaaall under control~ Just a bit of entertainment with the Smg4 Crew kids…

.

.

.

.

Mr. Puzzles, The HDR Trio and Stella V. are valid for questions now

:]

[thessalian]

Thess vs the Proving Lab

Welp. That happened.

And here we are - what's left of HADES. I mean, I'm surprised there's anything left of HADES at all, honestly. But I guess Sylens doesn't have so much a concept of mercy.

HADES, you are a shitheel. I mean, the Derangement and the Mysterious Signal probably contributed to that, but I don't think getting mucked with by Travis Tate et al helped all that much.

So ... wait ... Sylens, are you seriously telling me you left HADES alive (insomuch as an AI is alive) specifically so you could keep your word way back when you said you'd give me the means to destroy it? ...Well, if I'm running around settlements that look like Dreamer's Terrace, I guess it's fitting that I've got Fae-wording bargains coming from this dipshit.

And now you give me a schematic to let me ignite firegleam. Only when it suits you. Ugh, fine, I'll go hunt Leaplashers. (I hate Leaplashers.)

Best way to deal with Leaplashers - from the next post code over.

"Story and Easy Mode: you do not have to shoot off the power cores--" Can I ... do it anyway?

Right. Firegleam ignited. In we go!

So ... there was no mechanic for just ... letting me swim there? Really?

We're really hammering home the parallels between Sobek and Aloy, aren't we. Also ... why can I not punch Travis Tate in the face? I mean, really, I want to punch him in his face.

.........Well, this wasn't what I was expecting the "We still have dozens of hours of gameplay to give you so we'll contrive a problem" to be, but I'll take it. This game really enjoys kicking one in the metaphorical balls.

Sylens ... these are unknown quantities trying to come through the door, and you're not tellng me nearly enough, but I've done enough reading to know that the little you say you know? Is complete bullshit.

Yeah, see? Though now I'm almost regretting having crunched that particular Focus because I want a very good, very solid, "I TOLD YOU SO" right now.

(Also, if she was carrying around a spare Focus - or several, given what she told Varl at the beginning - why did she not do that six months ago? Or even when she discovered what he did to HADES? She knew Sylens had spyware! If she wanted to keep getting answers from him, she shouldn't have destroyed the spyware-filled Focus; she should have shoved it in a belt pouch and used a different one - at least until she wanted to pry answers out of Sylens again.)

...What the fuck are you people wearing? Did you get all your ideas on future fashion from Star Trek: TOS? That's tacky as fuck, guys.

Except you, Mini-Me. ...I have a Mini-Me. Great. And someone really needs to give you some actual shoes. Your feet must be cold.

(Yes, I notice this shit.)

Okay, these are not the machines I know, and ... yeah, I read a review at some point that talked about the "new machines" and how disappointing their designs were, and ... I get what they mean now. Robots should not ooze.

"One is trouble enough". Oooooh, Sylens, I wish I'd left you eavesdropping. Just because of how much you fucking hate being wrong.

Oh, so your horrible blingy jumpsuit has a forcefield on it. So this is going to be the most annoying fight ever.

...I get Aloy wanted information, but why was there no option to just jump in the damn water and swim?!? Why did she have to play some demented version of Tag to crash an entire ... whatever that fucking thing was when it wasn't even going to hurt him?!?

So jumping puzzle plus oxygen management plus stealth out the ass. This has been the most annoying fucking thing ever and I hate it. Good thing I'm way better at stealth.

...Crippling by Cutscene. THANKS FOR THAT.

Ah. Hi, Varl. Guess you're feeling better. I personally feel like shit. But I'm going to Do The Thing anyway--

Okay, that's fucking clever. The Utaru name their settlements for music because they remembered the old "do-re-mi" scale-singing from their ancestors' Cradle teachings, and let it live on in the name of their "land-gods". And this is the first civilisation that actually acknowledges what the machines were supposed to do. Everyone else treats them as a hazard at best; the Utaru worked in concert with them. So ... basically it's the Utaru that have it right. Neat.

Yeah, go be with your girlfriend, Varl. I will stay put, I promise. If only because a) the cutscene wants me to and b) I don't want to be that much of a hypocrite given everything I've said to you and Erend over the last little while. Also, c) someone ought to have a romance option that isn't one throwaway bit in the DLC.

(YES I KIND OF WANT TO ROMANCE EREND SHUT UP.)

Aaaaaaaand my ribs are better. And little green exclamation mark. Hi, Xenophobe Lady.

...Aloy? Why could you not just explain to the Xenophobe Lady what a 'thrush' is?!? Maybe she'd stop being such a bitch!

Right. I know there's all this saving-the-world stuff (though I have to admit I'm a lot less jazzed about that when I'm fighting Futuristic Techno-Gods or whatever), but I'm going to take a break and then I am going to go and ignite every bit of Firegleam I have passed so far. It has been taunting me.

(No, seriously, Futuristic Techno-Gods who bring all of the mindsets of the Old World with them? I don't want this. I am in this game for seeing how civilisations might shape themselves outside of the influence of the Old Gods - this is speculative fiction at its finest! And now you're giving me Futuristic Techno-Gods who are, in point of fact, generations old? And where were they all this time?)

(...They were in space, weren't they. IF THIS GAME SENDS ME TO SPACE I AM GOING TO THROW IT OUT THE WINDOW. METAPHORICALLY.)

Right. Yes. Break. Then, Firegleam and hunting. I ... am weirdly less jazzed about this game now that we're bringing the Old World this far into it. There's still enough for me to love, but none of it's the main plot. It's getting space-opera convoluted here - more clones, advanced technology, people treating the civilisations that formed without APOLLO as lesser--

...Wait. If we have APOLLO and DEMETER and HADES and HEPHAESTUS ... why do we have MINERVA? Every single one of the subordinate functions, and even the rogue AI Nemesis, were named for Greek gods, so why didn't they go with ATHENA?

Anyway, we're going into a vaguely colonialist direction far beyond shit like the Carja being stuck-up about everything and I am not sure I like it. Also I want to punch Sylens in the face for effectively arming the rebel Tenakth. What does he gain from destabilising the region? More to the point, what do these Techno-God dipshits gain from it? They have to be helping with that shit somehow.

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Soothing Rain of His: Chapter V - Drifting Apart

Chapter Summary: Alina continues her lessons with Baghra and tries to find what's holding her back. You struggle to be her friend, when you see her becoming closer to Aleksander. You feel you slowly lose him to her…

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Ivan, Alina Starkov, Nadia Zhabin

Word Count: 4057

A/N: Chapter contains some plot from episode four of season one. Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089684456/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089559842/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089684643/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

On your way back from combat training, you come across Alina. She has troubled look on her face.

'Let me guess,' you say, catching up to her. 'You had a lesson with Baghra.'

'You can probably also guess how it went,' Alina murmurs. You grab her arm gently and squeeze it.

'Small steps, Alina,' you say. 'You're already doing better than when you arrived.'

'Yeah,' your friend murmurs, not exactly convinced. You observe her profile for a moment. Whatever happened during that lesson, clearly got her thinking hard.

'Alina… what happened?' you ask softly. Your friend sighs.

'Baghra drugged me,' she answers. You nod your head, understanding.

'Ah, yes,' you say. 'She tried that with me as well.'

'Tried?' Alina repeats.

'Mhm. After I drank poison once, I'm careful about what I'm drinking,' you explain and look at your friend. 'I'm assuming you already know that story?'

'The poison was meant for General Kirigan,' Alina says, nodding. 'Nadia and Marie told me about it. You're very brave. Honestly, I can't imagine doing something like that.'

'If it was someone you care a lot about, who knows?' you ask. Your friend watches you for a long moment.

'So, I'm guessing she did this to discover what's holding you back,' you say. Alina nods. But it's clear she doesn't want to say anything more about it.

'What happened after you… well, weren't drugged?' she asks instead.

'Baghra ordered me to think on my own what is holding me back,' you answer and sigh deeply. 'And it wasn't really that hard. My dad.'

'I remember him hating Grisha a lot,' Alina says, nodding. 'He thought they were monsters.'

'Still does,' you say, your voice strained. Your friend looks at you with surprise. You avoid her gaze.

'Even though you're a Grisha?' she asks with disbelief. You swallow.

'After that lesson with Baghra, I finally got enough courage to visit my home,' you start.

'Go on,' Alina says softly when you're silent for a long moment. You exhale shakily.

'My parents were of course informed about me being a Grisha,' you say. 'But I remembered how much they feared and despised Grisha. So, it took me time to go and visit them. Conversation with Baghra was the final push I needed. I went there and… I haven't seen them since.'

'It was that bad?' Alina asks quietly.

'It was very tense,' you answer. 'We couldn't find a common ground. Or a topic to talk about. It was really awkward. I left quickly and haven't visited them again.'

'Don't you miss them?' Alina asks. You shrug.

'Part of me does,' you admit and smile. 'But I found a family in my fellow Grisha. That includes you as well, you know.'

You nudge her playfully. Alina smiles.

'Thank you,' she says and sighs. 'I think I will go now. I have some things to think about.'

'Of course,' you say, nodding. 'Come to me if you need anything.'

'Thanks,' Alina says and walks away. You go in the opposite direction, to your room.

A few hours later you visit Aleksander in his chambers. You eat together and talk. Soon it becomes late and you start yawning.

'Go to sleep, milaya,' Aleksander says. 'I'll join you soon. I have to finish something.'

'I'm too tired to protest,' you murmur and stand up. Your lover chuckles and stands up as well. He kisses the top of your head and you smile. You go to his bedroom and put on a nightgown you have hidden there. Your head barely hits the pillow when you're fast asleep.

You're woken up violently by a bursting light. You almost fall from the bed, startled. You look around, dazzled. You see the source of the light coming from behind the door. You creep to it and open it silently. You look out carefully and see Aleksander. But he's not alone.

Next to him is Alina, who is the source of the light. She's holding his wrist and looking up at him with… something you can't exactly name. You only know it causes your stomach to turn. Aleksander, on the other hand, is looking at her with a certain dose of surprise.

You watch as Alina lets go of his hand. The light is gone from the room. They look at each other for a moment.

'You are not alone,' Alina finally says, shaking her head slightly, that look still in her eyes. Aleksander, who now you can see has tears in his eyes, reaches out and cups her cheek. He pulls her slightly to himself.

'I have been waiting a long time for you,' he says. You feel your heart breaking a bit. You tell yourself he means he's been waiting for the Sun Summoner to end the war, destroy the Fold. But a part of you fears it means something else.

'I should go,' Alina says. She takes a step back. Aleksander drops his hand. Alina turns around and leaves. The door closes behind her. Kirigan walks to the door. For a moment you wonder if he's hesitating about opening it and going after her. In the end, he turns around and goes back to the table.

You take a step back and stand still for a moment, your heart beating fast. You think what to do. You decide to grab a blanket and leave the bedroom. Quietly, you make your way to an armchair. You sit on it and put the blanket on your body. Aleksander either hears you, sees you in the corner of his eye or senses you, as he looks at you, surprised.

'[Y/N],' he says and smiles apologetically at you. 'I've taken longer than I wanted, didn't I?'

'I don't mind,' you say, making yourself comfortable. 'I can wait here. Take your time.'

'Surely it's more comfortable in my bed,' Aleksander says, amused.

'Well, it doesn't have you in it at the moment,' you point out. 'I don't like being away from you if I can help it.'

Aleksander walks to you. He caresses your cheek and smiles gently at you. He looks at you differently than he looked at Alina. You convince yourself that this softness is still reserved only for you.

'Thank you, lapushka,' he says.

'For what, pretty boy?' you ask.

'Always being by my side,' Aleksander answers. You touch his hand that is on your cheek.

'That's where I belong,' you say. 'I will always be by your side. You're not alone, I promise.'

He leans down to kiss you and it takes your breath away. Then, he pulls away and smiles again at you. You smile back and watch him go back to his table. Your eyes never leave him, but your thoughts are still stuck on the moment he was alone with Alina in this room. For some reason, you can't let go of what you saw.

*

'Thanks again for agreeing to come with me,' Alina says, as you two walk through the streets of Os Alta. You shake your head.

'It's not a problem,' you assure her. 'I needed some change of scenery anyway.'

'So did I,' Alina sighs. 'I'm surprised they let me out at all. I thought… you know.'

'Luckily, you're friends with me,' you say. 'I argued hard that you need to be let out or you're going to go crazy. But it's not without a price.'

'Yeah, I know,' Alina says. 'I'm not happy about it, but fine. But they do make me feel uncomfortable.'

'I feel the same.'

'Does it have to be so many of them, though?'

'Hey, you're the Sun Summoner and I keep getting kidnapped. Just before you arrived, I was kidnapped three times in the same week.'

'You're joking.'

'I wish I did. Honestly. It's scary to be kidnapped so often. But also a bit boring. I mean, honestly, how many times?'

'But why do they kidnap you?'

'Because I was General Kirigan's personal servant. They try to get information about him from me.'

'I see… But did they kidnap his previous servants as well?'

'No, which annoys me so much! I mean, why do they think I'm different? Or maybe it just occurred to them a servant is someone who can tell them his secrets when it was my turn? I don't know. But trust me, I was really annoyed by that.'

'More than by that security?'

'… Being guarded almost all the time is close.'

Alina laughs. You smile and glance behind yourself. Your smile drops immediately.

'Hey… where are our guards?' you ask, your voice a bit higher than normal. Alina swiftly turns. Her eyes go wide when she notices what you did. Your guards are no longer walking behind you.

'[Y/N]…' Alina says slowly, a bit afraid.

'Run,' you say, grabbing her hand, and sprint forward, back to the Little Palace. You barely start moving, when you hear shouts and voices. You both speed up.

'Can't we take them?!' Alina asks.

'Too many of them!' you shout back. You want to add something, but then you take a turn and have to stop to avoid running into a large man. You turn around. Other men are already there.

'Great,' Alina murmurs. 'No way out. We fight?'

Before you can answer her, you feel hands grabbing your arms. You start trashing and in the corner of your eye you see Alina doing the same, as she's too being held by someone.

'Let go!' she shouts.

'Forget about it,' a man says, coming forward, and grins evilly. 'You're going to get us quite a money from Fjerdans. And you… will probably give us something, too. Especially if we tell them you're the Darkling's servant pet.'

So, they are here mostly for Alina, but they know who you are. Not good.

'Let us go this instant,' your friend demands again. The man just snorts. He walks to you and grabs your chin. He forces you to look at him. He smiles lecherously.

'How about we get some fun before we sold this one, boys?' he asks and his man cheer. 'No offense, Miss Sun Summoner, but I'm not fond of Shu girls.'

'I'm not Shu,' Alina says with venom.

'But you look like one,' a guy says and spits. 'Filthy country.'

'Enough,' the leader says. His other hand touches your hip. You feel anger boiling in you.

'If you don't take your hands off me, in the next two seconds you won't have hands,' you say, your voice ice cold. The men laugh. You, however, glare at the man in front of you. But he scoffs.

'How would you do that with your hands spread apart, huh?' he asks and tightens his grip on you. You stare at him calmly.

'Don't forget I warned you,' you say. The man frowns. In the next moment you use all the training Botkin gave you. You headbutt the leader and move your body weight to throw the man holding you over your shoulder. Before anyone can react, you take out your knife and… cut off the hands of the leader.

'Raaaaargh!' the man screams, pressing his hands to his chest and falling on his knees. You throw your knife at the man holding Alina and hit him in the eye. He screams and lets go of her.

'Witch!' someone shouts. The men advance on you. You quickly create ice shards and throw them at them. They scream and duck.

'Come on!' you say to shocked Alina, grabbing her arm. You start running, dragging your friend with you. You hear men running after you. You speed up.

'We must hide!' Alina shouts. 'They're gaining on us!'

'No, we don't have to!' you deny. 'We just need to reach to reach that teahouse we passed earlier!'

'Why?!' Alina asks, stunned. You don't answer her. Because you see the teahouse and that causes you to smile. You take a deep breath.

'IVAN!' you scream at the top of your lungs. You hear Alina cursing under her breath, startled by your loud voice. But you don't even have time to apologise, as the door to the teahouse burst open and Ivan rushes outside, his expression dangerous. He scowls seeing the men running after you and brings his hands together.

Behind you men groan and scream. You pay it no mind. You drag Alina toward Ivan. Once you reach him, you stand behind him and turn around. You let your friend's hand go and summon water. You push it on the men's feet and freeze it. Now they can't move.

'Couldn't you do that earlier?' Alina asks, panting.

'I was improvising by then,' you answer. 'Also, I still need to concentrate really hard to turn water into ice.'

You look at Ivan. He's already giving orders to a servant that's with him. The boy nods and hurries off. Your friend walks to you and Alina.

'We go back to the Little Palace,' he says.

'Fine by me,' Alina says, eyeing your attackers.

'And me,' you agree, nodding. Ivan motions with his hand for you to walk at once. But you see a look of concern in his eyes when your eyes meet.

By the time you reach the Little Palace, you're exhausted. But it all stops mattering when you see Aleksander rushing down the stairs to meet you. You can't help but smile.

'Are you alright?' he asks. You open your mouth to answer… but Aleksander stops in front of Alina. He looks with worry at her. Not you. Your smile drops.

'I'm fine,' your friend answers with a small smile and looks at you. 'Thanks to [Y/N]. She got us out of this situation with her quick thinking.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' Aleksander says, smiling, but still doesn't look at you. 'However, I hope you know there aren't going to be any more trips to Os Alta. Or anywhere else.'

'I know,' Alina sighs. 'To be honest, at this moment, I wouldn't mind leaving my bed at all.'

Aleksander chuckles. Your stomach turns. You clench your jaw.

'We should rest,' you say, forcing your voice to sound normal. Alina flinches, as if remembering that you are here as well.

'Yeah,' she agrees and smiles shyly at Aleksander. She wants to say something else, but you're already walking to the door. She decides to hurry after you, allowing herself only to cast one last glance at your lover. It's never been so hard to control your powers than in this moment.

It's late at night when there's a knock on your door. You can feel who's outside. Usually, you call him in at once. But tonight, you pause and stand still for a moment.

'It's open,' you finally say. You calmly watch as the door opens quietly and Aleksander slips in. You can see tiredness on his face. He smiles weakly at you but seeing you don't answer it, he stays where he is.

'How are you feeling?' he asks.

'Better,' you answer. 'The men?'

'Dealt with,' Aleksander answers and sighs. 'Forgive me for not asking how you were earlier. I… I must appear I care more about the Sun Summoner's well-being more.'

Don't you?

You shake off those thoughts. You nod curtly but stay silent.

'No one can know how I feel about you,' Aleksander goes on. 'You know that. It's for your own safety.'

'I know,' you say, tired of hearing this. 'It still hurt, though.'

'I know, moya lapushka,' Kirigan says, walking to you. 'I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you.'

He cups your face. You see sincerity in his eyes. Any other day, you'd take advantage of that offer. But tonight…

'I'm tired,' you say, smiling sadly. 'At the moment I just want to lay on your chest and listen to your heartbeat.'

'Then that's what you will get,' Aleksander says, already unfastening his kefta. You do the same with yours. A few minutes later you're both in your nightwear (Aleksander has his set hidden in your bedroom as well) and climb into bed.

'Ah, yes,' Kirigan says, suddenly remembering something. 'My mother heard you managed to create ice shards in a heartbeat and used them against those men. I think she was actually… satisfied.'

'For a moment I thought you were going to say "impressed" or "proud",' you say. 'And I started to worry whether someone switched places with Baghra.'

Aleksander laughs. You can't help but smile and relax at that sound. The feeling from before slowly starts to vanish.

'Sleep, my love,' Kirigan says, putting his arms around you. 'Today was stressful. You deserve rest.'

You exhale deeply and close your eyes. Your head lays on Aleksander's chest. The sound of his heartbeat lulls you to sleep. For a moment everything is good again.

But in the morning, it's gone. Aleksander is gone. A part of you isn't even surprised. You just stand up and walk to your window. And there you see your lover. With Alina. Taking a walk.

'[Y/N]?' you hear Natasha's voice and a knock. 'Are you up?'

You don't answer. Your eyes are glued to Alina and Aleksander. You almost feel your heart slowly breaking.

*

Tidemakers often pair up with Squallers for training. At first you hated this, because everyone you were paired up with was far more advanced than you. But now you're better. Now you're good. You can easily keep up with them.

That day you are practicing with Squallers and other Tidemakers, but as a group. One person would attack a dummy with their powers and others would give them pointers. You were always nervous during such trainings. You know everyone means well when telling you what you can improve, but you always feel they're judging you because you've started training later.

You try to calm yourself down, watching a Squaller attacking a dummy. But you see something in the corner of your eye that causes you to stop paying attention. Your heart drops. There they are again. Alina and Aleksander taking a walk, talking and smiling.

You hoped that you being almost kidnapped again would bring Aleksander back closer to you. But the opposite happened. Every day you watch him spending time with Alina. Whenever you walk into the room and she's there as well, his attention is on her. He talks with you flirts with you, yes. But you feel he's not really into it. You try not to think too much about it, but it's hard when he hasn't visited your chambers since that night. He hasn't called you to his either.

You clench your fists, seeing Aleksander smiling at something Alina said. You know she's the Sun Summoner and you need her to unite Ravka and end all wars. You know your lover is charming, handsome and… you could go on. You know he needs to focus on her to achieve peace. But it still hurts seeing them together.

'Alright, [Y/N], your turn,' Nadia says. You place yourself in front of the dummy. You summon your power. You feel it at the ends of your fingertips. And then you hear a chuckle.

You turn your head slowly. You see Alina grinning and Aleksander trying to contain his laughter. Your heart sinks. He's never like that in public with you. He's always calm and composed, even if you say something that amuses him.

Anger boils inside of you. It needs to be let out. You don't think and let it consume you. You bring your hands together and see water forming in front of you. You push it forward at the dummy, fuelling it with your anger.

Aleksander and Alina are pulled away from their conversation by loud gasps and yelps. They look at the training Grisha and are stunned by what they see. Alina's eyes go wide and her mouth part slightly. She's just as surprised as every other Grisha here.

The dummy is cut in more or less half, diagonally. The edges are covered in ice. The top 'half' is laying on the ground. Cut. You used the Cut.

Bewildered, you turn to look at Aleksander and Alina, ignoring excited and disbelieving whispers around you. Your friend from Keremzin is looking at your work with awe. Kirigan is looking at it with… pride. There's a small smile on his face.

His eyes meet yours for a moment and there's that soft look reserved only for you. It makes you happy… but only for a second, as he turns back to Alina, resuming their conversation. You feel as if it was your heart that was cut.

'That… Ekhm. Well done, [Y/N],' Nadia says at a loss of words. No one knows what else to say. Because how they can suggest improving something with what you did?

For the rest of the training, you stand at the back, quiet. Then, you go by the lake. You stand there, your eyes fixed on the water. The part by the bank freezes and unfreezes. It's your relaxing method. You try to calm down with it. You can still feel tears burning your eyes, so it seems it's failing today.

You're not sure how much time have passed when Baghra shows up. Normally, it would really surprise you. You're not sure whether you've ever seen her outside her hut. She stops next to you and watches what you are doing with water.

'I've heard you managed to use the Cut,' she says after a few minutes. You just nod. Baghra turns her face to you.

'You should be prouder of yourself,' she says. 'It's not an easy feat.'

Normally, it would make you happy, hearing such words from her. But not today.

'So,' she says when you still keep being silent. 'I've always knew you had it in you. The question is, what provoked it.'

'You know what,' you say quietly. Your heart aches again at the memory of seeing the two of them together. Baghra sighs.

'He's pushing you away, then?' she asks. 'You might as well be invisible to him?'

You shake your head. It's not like that. Not really.

'It would be too easy to say that I feel invisible,' you deny. 'Instead, I feel painfully visible and entirely ignored.'

You exhale shakily and try to blink away the tears. Baghra stares at you in silence.

'I really hoped it would work,' she says quietly. Too quietly for you to hear. So, you frown at her.

'What?' you ask. Baghra shakes her head.

'It doesn't matter,' she says and looks at you with a known to you sternness. 'Don't give up hope. Never do it, girl.'

'Is there any?' you ask with doubt.

'Of course, there is!' Baghra says and you swear you can feel she's itching to smack you with her cane. 'I saw how he looks at you. It's… Something like that is not easy to destroy. Fight for it. Fight for him.'

You stare at her, stunned and confused. Baghra pats your arm and turns to leave.

'Why?' you ask, stopping her. 'Why do you care about it?'

'Because you may be the only one able to save him,' Baghra answers, not looking at you.

'From what?' you ask, even more confused. She finally turns slightly to look at you with a seriousness that chills you to the bone.

'From himself,' she answers. You stare at her. She stays for a moment longer and then leaves. You watch her go, deep in thought.

'"Himself"…' you repeat in a whisper to yourself. You don't know what to do. If it's worth to fight like Baghra encourages you. You know you don't want to lose Aleksander. But the anger you felt today scared you. Still does. You don't want to feel like that again.

You sigh deeply and head back toward the Little Palace. On your way you pass Grisha. As usual, they gossip. Mostly they do, to your embarrassment, about your achievement today. You see looks of awe shot your way. But other gossips make your stomach turn. They're about how close Alina and Aleksander now are.

You shake your head. You must stop thinking about it. You can't change the way Aleksander feels. You will continue to try to get his attention. And if Alina is truly meant to be his equal… then maybe it means you have to let go.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please, reblog, like and comment if you could.

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49547866/chapters/125615938

[drac-onion]

Back at it again. A year since I posted Beneath Her Mask. Same thing as last time. Fun facts or just looking back at something I done did write once upon a time exactly a year ago.

This is going to be very "stream of consciousness" and probably hard to read, but here goes.

First off, wow that title sucks. I came up with it like right before posting and then rolled with it. Nowadays I would put off uploading something for MONTHS if I couldn't figure out an original and interesting title. Oops.

Anyway, this one is a lot better than the last one. Promise. The whole thing is a little bit iffy still, but I was very new. The formatting is the main issue I have with. The concept is...fine, although I think I could have gone a little bit further with and then lead into where this one starts. Ya know, inform the reader as to the situation that lead to Makoto's desire to keep everything to herself? But I kinda made it ambiguous on purpose. Good thing I didn't have to follow up on this a few months later... Oh wait. The stakes were just: awkward. No gay panic (like the tags say, oops), no internalized anything, no worries over team cohesion with members of the PTs dating, none of that. If I would ever go back and rewrite this (don't fucking tempt me) I would definitely expand on things a lot more. But hey, I probably shouldn't try and go back and fix all my old stuff. I'd never get anything done otherwise.

Oh yeah, Makoto's "113 decibel alarm clock" is a real thing. I actually have one. I sleep through every other alarm clock out there. The thing is so good, it will actually scare you awake. Pretty nice. (If probably a little too loud for apartment living in Japan where the walls are very thin.)

Oh yeah, and the tense a few times. Annoying.

I dunno why I made it three chapters. It's just over 3.5k words. That would have been fine to keep as a single chapter one-shot, but I think I just had a hard time with having scenes switch mid-chapter. Chapters are a good way to signal a scene switch, but nowadays I'll just use a line break and go with it. I've just improved as a writer, I think, and so now my old mistakes bug the shit out of me.

If I named all the issues I had, I'd be here all day. So, what did I get right with this? I think the concept is alright. The dialogue is good at points. The scene in Leblanc is pretty good. Good guy Sojiro being cool with lesbians (very cool of him). And the text convos at the end are also pretty okay. The "out of your league" comment still gets me for some reason. It's kinda funny.

Also I made a custom dialogue option for Akira, referencing the very first thing he says at the beginning of the story. I think it turned out okay. (I'd like to do more art/edits relevant to my writing. I've thought about making cover/chapter art for my current project. I guess we'll see how I'm feeling. A little wattpad-y of me, but it'd be interesting.)

I'm just now realizing that I should've made the "third option" a little cheeky. Maybe something like "Come here often?" or whatever. Ah well. Next time.

So, overall? It's an improvement. It's not perfect, but it was the second thing I'd ever written. (Once again, I don't count the RE one. I should probably anon it tbh.)

Anyway, that was something. The next "retrospective" (I guess that's what these are now) will be on Beneath Their Masks.

That one is a doozy, and I think I'm going to have a decent amount to say about it. It's also really long, so that's also a thing I'm gonna have to worry about. I'll probably do that on 10/1 because that's when I posted the first chapter. Maybe I'll have enough time to write up mini retrospectives for each chapter? And then post those throughout October? That could be interesting. And tiring. But still, interesting. I could pull the original upload dates since I made a tumblr in between ACIFT and BHM. Although those are going to be VERY spaced out, especially near the end. So much for doing a month's worth of prompts WITHIN the month. But I'll save all my whining for when those go up.

Also, shoutouts again to my beta at the time, @makomaki5. I hope you're doing well.

Anyway, I think that's about it. See ya.

[kyupidos]

09/08/23’s delivery 🏹✉️ twisted wonderland

see anything different? 2 )ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ,ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ ;; summary. ‘though nothing has changed, you ask them to spot the difference.’

part one. ft. r. rosehearts , l. kingscholar , a. ashengrotto, k. al-asim

characters. housewardens : vil schoenheit , idia shroud, malleus draconia ( separate ) ;; romantic . 🖇️ tags. reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader is yuu, reader talks in emoticons, silly romantic fluff

📡 _a/n. decided to try messing around w layouts and ended up coming up w this,, do i like it?? better than my old one at least.

v. schoenheit

— “heyy, daarlinnggg? did ‘ya notice? today’s me is unlike yesterday’s ^^!” vil unconsciously hummed, doing his makeup routine as you sat beside him tapping your finger. he gave you a quick glance, eyeing your appearance shortly but entirely. his eyes close quaintly, “have you really? i don’t see any change of sort.”

— right; vil was one who put much effort into psychical appearance, you don’t doubt he memorized your usual look exactly since when you do look different, he’s one of the first to point it out. nonetheless, you couldn’t help but pout and place both your hands where your heart will be exaggeratedly. “ohh? but i could swear i look lovelier than usual ;(” vil carefully put down his makeup brush, taking the time to look at you again, but slower and more carefully so.

— he sighed for a moment, before he lifted your chin with his fingers to get a better look at you, only to adjust himself in his seat slightly to give you a peck on the cheeks. “you always look lovely, but i suppose you do look a bit lovelier than usual today.” a bit of his lipstick rubbed off onto you, so he casually went back to reapply some. and, right, again; you were sly, but vil was slyer.

i. shroud

— “yoo,” you called casually as idia played one of his less rage-inducing games, “have you guessed what makes today’s look new yet?” what. he was not informed of any of this!! you looked different today?! this feels like a question that would only be asked in normie relationships! was he being normie-fied or something?! he immediately paused his game to get a good look at you. “—uh, uhm..y-your hair?!” “incorrect~” great, what a start.

— it didn’t take long before idia started getting invested in giving a correct answer, like it was the final level he needed to complete to 100% a game. continuously, he would suggest every thing in the book—if you’re trying out a new wardrobe, maybe you’ve got different accessories on, what does he know?! he may not have been playing a rage-inducing game earlier, but he certainly feels like he is now.

— he almost felt like his hair was about to burst into red over how many tries he got incorrect, before you make an x with your arms, “rage quit yet?” “ah..rage quit.” you do a little spin to show off your look, almost as if giving him one more little chance to choose, before you skid to a halt and face him once more; “time to be honest.. it’s all the same!” “huh?!” you feigned a teardrop coming out of your eye as you sighed dramatically, “i just wanted your attention derived from your gaming session T-T”

m. draconia

— “tsunotarou, tsunotarou!” you and malleus are currently looking around night raven for his gargoyle club, but he ended up a little ahead to look at the next one, so now you’re hurrying up to him to not be left behind. “oh, child of man? hurry up now.” malleus spoke calmly, while you slid to his side, “did you notice yet? my new look? guess what it is!”

— oh? a new look? he didn’t notice it when he was admiring your beauty before, but now that you’re right before him, surely he’ll see it now. or at least, so he thought; as he observed you, asking you to turn yourself around once or twice just to be sure, he didn’t notice anything new. you were as beautiful as ever to him. “are you quite sure you’re different, child of man? perhaps whatever’s new was something detachable that fell off?”

— though, you shook your head, before pointing your finger at him casually. “bzz, incorrect!” “oh? so then?” you hummed, before concluding, “i just needed to make sure you were paying as much attention to me as you are the gargoyles <3” for a moment malleus simply stood looking at you, thoughts blank for a moment, before he warmly smiled and gave you a kiss on the cheek, “of course i am.”

[astroellipse]

Tired tag vent 😞

[mokutone]

Your tags on this post made me think that if there's any childhood pics of Yamato, they'd be absolutely cursed. Most of them probably progress and experiment contexts... and then for some reason there's one where, idk, it's just a tiny Yamato holds a kunai in his hand and the first (and only) time Kakashi stumbles upon it when he goes through the ROOT files he has a sudden moment of recognition and connection and then makes sure all those files will never ever be opened by anyone again.

oh this captured my imagination a little bit. hoo hoo. here, have something i don't usually do, write:

“Hey, Tenzō. Look at this.”

Yamato glanced up from his lunch to see Kakashi hauling a dense looking box of papers and folders onto the already-crowded Hokage desk.

“Taking on additional responsibility, I see,” Yamato said mildly, leaning back against the window behind him to get a better angle of the boxes sides, see if there’s a label. “How bold of you, Hokage-Sama.”

“There’s nothing which aids procrastination better than additional, unrelated work,” Kakashi said, dispensing his ill-gotten wisdom with two smiling, inky-black eyes. Yamato smiled back crookedly, and put his lunch to the side, finally rising to join Kakashi in whatever this new distraction was.

The box had dense chipboard sides and top, and hints of discoloration from unhindered mildew around the corners, and by the lip of the lid. There was a label on the lid’s front, but it was rusted so thoroughly that the paper had been eaten and stained so thorughly that it was unreadable. When he touched the sides, it was colder than the room they were in.

“Sai found it,” Kakashi said, as Yamato lifted the lid.

Ah. This was from Root, then. The dismantling of Danzō’s organization demanded a lot of cleanup, a lot of compiling and collection of Danzō’s libraries and resources and re-allocation of them into Konoha’s information, library, and data collections. If Kakashi was bringing this one straight here, rather than letting the experts notate, collect, label, and distribute this information, it must have been something he wanted privilege over—something too sensitive to immediately be shifted into Konoha’s resources.

Taking a guess, Yamato slid his hand among the side of the papers, feeling for the slick, cardstock texture of a photograph among the typewritten papers.

“Well, would you look at that,” Yamato said, as he felt Kakashi’s keen gaze slip from him to the image in his hand. It was of a sallow, gaunt creature that had never seen the sun, with long brown hair, wetted and slicked by preservative biofluids so that it was nearly black, legs that must have been trembling at the time of the photo which stuck out like twigs from beneath a thin, rough-textured cotton medical gown. The eyes that stared out at him though, were familiar, curious.

“It seems like they’ve finally declassified my baby photos,” Yamato said, and he tried to keep his voice light and humorous, but he tripped over a lump in his throat.

Yamato could feel Kakashi’s eyes leave the photo, and return to him, and so he turned, and pressed the photo into Kakashi’s hands before stepping back to his seat on the window, and lifting up his lunch again.

“We could burn them,” Kakashi suggested.

“That sounds like a bad idea,” Yamato replied through a wry smile. “Thanks for the offer though, always good to know you’re willing to destroy state secrets for a friend.”

“If being the hokage means I can’t even destroy my personal guard’s formerly classified medical documents anymore, then I don’t even know why I left Jōnin,” Kakashi replied, though he started picking through the box again.

Yamato resumed eating, finding himself colder and hungrier than he had been even minutes ago.

“What do you want done with it, Tenzō?” Kakashi eventually asked.

“I don’t particularly care. It can enter Konoha’s forbidden documents division, I suppose. There’s probably important details about how I was created in there, they might be of use for Konoha down the line, I suppose. Perhaps the next time, the experiments can be done consensually, and with less casualties, and perhaps without the more dehumanizing elements of all that.”

“Grim,” Kakashi commented.

“Pragmatic,” Yamato countered. He was fairly sure that there would be a next time—even if Orochimaru somehow miraculously died, even if he was somehow stopped, there would be someone else. There would be, once again, a demand for an otherwise extinct Kekei-genkai.

“I know how easy that section is to break into. I don’t know. Do you really want it in there? Even Sakura and Naruto could probably get in, if they tried, and you know how bad they are at stealth missions.”

“And whose fault is that, Hokage-sama?”

Kakashi gave him a sour look, probably about his continued use of the honorific. Yamato knew he was getting to Kakashi a little bit. “Yours. Don’t you still train new Anbu recruits? They’re not up to par.”

Yamato bowed deeply without leaving his seat, so that his nose brushed his knees, holding his meal aside with one hand. “My most sincere apologies, Hokage-Sama, I w—”

“Piss off,” Kakashi snapped. “You know you’re pretty much the only person in this village who still calls me that?”

Yamato sat back up, very pleased with himself.

Kakashi sighed, and looked back down at the box, and Yamato watched as he did, one of his hands leaving the white, voluminous robes to pick through a couple files at random, and then shuffle them back in.

“You were very young,” Kakashi said softly, looking at another document, which seemed (by a paperclip at the top) to have another photo attached.

“Most children are young,” Yamato noted, after another bite. “You probably were too, I imagine.”

“I suppose I was.”

“You’ll likely find mostly medical files and Kinoto and Danzō’s notes on my progress. I don’t think there’s much else to be recorded in there.”

“You don’t want to see any of that,” Kakashi guessed.

“I know what it will say, I lived it. As for the stuff that I don’t know, I’m happy not knowing.”

Kakashi tapped the edge of the box. “Does me looking at these bother you?” He asked.

Yamato looked out the window, where the afternoon sun was lowering but hot and bright and golden. Did it bother him? He didn’t think so.

“I understand why it’s interesting—but I’m not in that box. Whatever we would find in that box isn’t me. You know? Whatever you want to do with it, I don’t really care.”

Kakashi nodded, and put the paper in his hands back into the box, then placed the lid back where it had been.

“I’m going to put these somewhere very safe, for a while. I don’t think these should be back in circulation,” Kakashi said. “Not yet. Not for a while.”

[streamafterlaughter]

New Kid

Chapter VI: Midterms

MASTERLIST || chapter V || playlist

summary: You spend the week pining for Eddie, as you’ve agreed to a deal you wish you could take back.

tags: eddie munson x reader, gn!nb!afab!reader, impossibly slow burn (next chapter kids ;)), violence, language, mutual pining, yearning, fluff, angst, trauma bonding

a/n: the wait is almost over, next chapter things get GOOD. thank you guys for reading, it means so much to me that i’m seeing y’all enjoy it. Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated.

Eddie’s POV

He hasn’t stopped replaying the scene in his head. Taking you by the wrist in a fleeting act of confidence, hoisting you up in the air like they do in romantic movies, feeling your lips part in a smile against his own, freezing in the rain to the point of near numbness, it all feels too good to be true. But surely enough, as he steps into the living room, your clothes now warm and dry in his hands, you’re there on his couch, this time wearing his Hellfire shirt, clicking through TV channels as you munch on microwave popcorn. If he could freeze this moment in time, keep you both there forever.

“I’ll have to make you one of your own.” Eddie tugs at his shirtsleeve on you as he sits down, kicking his feet up on the coffee table next to you. He places your clothes in a neat pile on your lap, and you give them a disappointed frown. “What’s up?” He asks, noticing your expression.

“Nothing, I’m okay. Just stressed about this week, I guess. Didn’t really get much studying done.”

“Ah, screw studying, we had an adventure this weekend.” Eddie doesn’t truly mean that, he needs these midterm grades to graduate, but he wouldn’t have done a thing differently this weekend.

It’s as if you read his mind. “No, Eddie, we need to focus. I know you want out of this place, no matter how well you think you’re hiding it.” You’re right, he’d rather not die in a town that hates him. “I know if we keep spending time together, we aren’t gonna pass. We have to keep our distance from each other until Friday.”

Eddie snaps his head up to see if you’re joking. He’s met with your furrowed brow and pursed lips, deep in thought. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do you have a better idea? Because I’d love one right now. Look, it’s only five days, we’ll start tonight and we’ll reconfigure on Friday after school,” You've seemingly thought all of this out, but when did you have the time? “I don’t want to be the reason you’re held back again. I wanna be the first person you run to waving that passing grade in your hands.” You look him dead in the eyes, each word etching itself into his bones.

“Do I get a treat if I pass?” He teases, wanting to make every second he has until tonight count.

“Whatever you want, pretty boy.” He leans in to kiss you, but instead of connecting your lips, you press a finger to his. “On Friday.”

“This is bullshit.” He huffs, crossing his arms in an exaggerated display of disapproval. You take advantage of his position, leaning to whisper into his ear, “You’ll get a lot more if you behave.” Before slipping off the couch to change. Eddie sits frozen, your breath raising the hairs on the back of his neck, and he has to fight for it not to erect anything else.

—

Your POV

Eddie drives you home at eight o’clock despite his objections to your plan. You hate it too, but you need, desperately, to get yourself back on track before vacation. This is the only way, you know in your heart, that you’ll be able to focus solely on school, if you and Eddie don’t hang out until the end of the week. How cruel, you think, to let yourself have something so sweet, so perfect, only to immediately have to shove him away.

Eddie walks you up the front stairs, pausing at the door. “Guess this is where you get off.” He says sadly, but you take the opportunity to joke,

“No, that’s for after midterms.”

You can’t help but giggle at your own immaturity, your laugh ringing through the quiet evening like a bird song.

Eddie takes one more step up, making his face level with yours. “God I hope so.” His voice drips with desire, and you’re ready to risk it all and drop your pants right there on the front steps of your home. Instead, you offer, “One for the road?”

Eddie takes the final step up, and you’re pulled into him like two magnets finding each other. You kiss him deeply, like you’re moving away and saying goodbye forever, because this week is gonna feel like an eternity. You can feel his urgency in the kiss too, his hands clasped behind your back, holding your body to his own. Your hands clutch either side of his face, afraid if you let go he might vanish.

“You know I’ll see you in English, right?” He reminds you, breaking the kiss for air.

You roll your eyes, “It’s not the same now, knowing how you taste.”

Even in the dark, you can tell he’s blushing at your words. “I’ll see you.” He says, giving you a final kiss on the nose.

“See you.” You watch as he turns down the walk way, gets into his van, and vanishes from sight.

-

“Jesus Christ!” Your parents are standing huddled behind the front door as you enter. “Were you there this whole time?!” You love them, but your parents can get overly excited at your social life when it seems to be going well.

“Just long enough to watch you watch him walk away.” Your mom teases, bringing you in for a hug. “You could have let him in, we would’ve made sure not to be here.”

“I know. We’re trying this thing though where we don’t become codependent after already spending an entire weekend together.” You drop into your chair at the dinner table, already missing Eddie in the most pathetic way.

“That’s silly!” Your dad chimes in. “I couldn’t keep my hands off your mom when I met her. Still can’t,” he gives an exaggerated wink to your mom, who giggles back at him.

“Ugh, you guys are gross. Look, we both need to pass midterms if we wanna graduate, and we’re only gonna distract each other. So we aren’t seeing each other until Friday.”

“When did you get so mature?” Your dad jokes, backhanding you lightly in the arm.

“I guess when I decided I wanted a future.”

“I’m proud of you, kiddo. And if Eddie’s worth anything, he’ll be right there waiting for you on Friday.”

You desperately want this to be true. It isn’t any sort of game, you really do need to study, but in a sick way you want this week to be difficult for him. You want to be at the forefront of Eddie’s brain, the same way he’s been at yours since you watched him on that dingy stage.

Alright, I’m gonna go do some cramming before my Bio exam tomorrow, goodnight parents.” You pull yourself out from your chair, and drag your feet towards the stairs.

“Oh, honey! Robin called, she wanted to know if you were alright after whatever happened on Friday. I hooked your phone line up today, if you want to call her back.”

“Okay!” You call, already halfway up the stairs.

You dial Robin’s number, and she picks up on the second ring. “Buckley residence, may I ask who’s calling?”

“Hey, Robin! It’s Y/N.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, I thought you were dead!” Her voice brightens when she hears you.

“That’s a little dramatic, I’m totally fine! More than fine, really.” You bite your lip, wondering how much of this you can share with Robin.

“What’re they saying?” You hear in the distance on Robin’s end.

“Sh, dingus, they haven’t said anything yet.”

“Is that Steve?”

Robin's attention turns back to you, “Yeah, sorry, we just got out of work, he’s here to help me study. I would’ve asked you, but you weren’t home when I called. Figured you were… busy.” You don’t miss the suggestion she’s making. You laugh directly into the receiver, “Har, har. If you must know, I was with Eddie.”

“I knew it! Tell. me. everything.”

You feel like every tween must, kicking your feet back and forth as you gossip to your friend about your new crush. “Well, we kissed.”

“Yeah, like days ago, right? Pretty sure we walked in on that.”

“No, actually, not until today. A couple hours ago…”

“Wait, seriously?” It’s Steve again, listening to the two of you. “He’s been all over you from day one and somehow resisted kissing you until today? Doesn’t sound like Eddie.”

“Steve, shut up. Anyway, what was it like?!”

“I don’t kiss and tell!”

“Well you should! I’m living vicariously through your romantic endeavors!”

“Fine, but tell Steve to stop listening first.”

You vaguely hear Robin shoo Steve from the room. “Okay, go on.”

“Well,” You start from Friday, the emotional tension between you two after the party, the nightmare he comforted you from, the Hellfire meeting, “Wait, he invited you to Hellfire?! Boys got the bug, bad.” You tell her about Sunday, about how you thought he was rejecting you, only to give you the most cliche first kiss you ever could have imagined. You go into detail about the way he looks at you, how you feel like you could explode from gazing into his eyes for too long. Robin listens to every word, chiming in with commentary when she feels so inclined. By the end of your story, your brain is full of nothing but Eddie, and there is absolutely no hope for you studying tonight.

“Ugh, I envy your love. Maybe when you’re done teasing your boyfriend you could be my wingman!” You chuckle, promising her you’ll take her to every lesbian bar from here to Boston you can find. “I’ll hold you to that, y’know.” And you say your good nights before hanging up.

-

Eddie’s POV

It’s the last thing he wants to do, but Eddie pulls his English notes from his backpack after returning home. Wayne is cooking hamburgers on the stove, and Eddie sits in the living room, straining to read his chicken scratch when all he wants to do is call you.

“How’s your weekend?” Wayne asks, a hint in his voice, egging him into talking about you, though he would probably have without the help.

“Unbelievable, really.”

“Y/N seems like a good kid,” his uncle muses, “Don’t screw it up.” Wayne isn't an emotional guy, but he loves his nephew like his own. He saw what a life of rebellion got his brother, and he doesn’t want any of it for Eddie.

“Thanks for the advice.” Eddie mumbles dryly, skimming through the useless pages of his notebook. He really should’ve asked you for yours before leaving, but it was the furthest thing from his mind.

“I’m sorry, kid. Look, you’re smart, but you’re impulsive. You do a lot of stupid shit. I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret. Something tells me Y/N won’t put up with your antics the way your friends do.”

He’s probably right. You’re sure of yourself, comfortable enough in your skin to turn away from anyone that jeopardizes that, and he’s not willing to test that theory.

“Hence, I’m here studying, and not in their bed.” Eddie gestures to his display of study guides, exasperated. Wayne nods, sliding Eddie his burger on a flimsy paper plate. “Atta boy, I’m proud of you.” He pats Eddie on the shoulder before making his way to the recliner across the room. “They must be something special if they got you studying.”

“You have no idea.”

—

Your POV

Your alarm rouses you from dreaming about Eddie’s lips on yours, and you groan before whacking the snooze button. It’s gonna be a long fucking week without him, and English might as well be a death sentence, having to sit right next to him, his presence teasing you like a drop of water after a years long drought.

You’re not in the mood to put effort into your outfit, it’s gray and gloomy outside, so you dress to match the weather, wearing the Metallica shirt Eddie left on your floor, big baggy jeans, and a pair of black vans from your days of skating, a hole in the left big toe.

“Good mornin’, sweet child o’ mine!” Your mother sings as you drag your groggy body downstairs. “Good luck with everything, hon, I’m sure you’ll do great!”

“Thanks, Mama, I need everyone I can get to root for me this week.”

Your mother furrows her brow at you, resting her elbows on the kitchen counter. “What’s up, buttercup?” She hasn’t called you that in years.

“So, you met Eddie. Before I begin, what do you think?”

“About Eddie? I didn’t really get a chance to know him, with everything else that happened on Saturday. I do know I’ve never seen you so happy around someone like that before. So I like that he does that for you.”

“We kissed last night.”

“For the first time? I could’ve sworn you two were already in the throes of a romance by the time you let us meet him.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!”

“Sorry! You two have so much chemistry, forgive my misguided assumption!” Your mother rolls her eyes teasingly, and you can't help but laugh. She’s right, neither of you had really attempted to mask your feelings in front of your parents.

“Anyway, I told him we couldn’t see each other until midterms are over, and I think it's already bitten me in the ass.”

“Nah, you’d already been bitten by then. Trust me, I get it. When I met your father, he was all I ate, slept, and breathed for the first year of our relationship.”

“We aren’t even in a relationship!”

“Oh god, honey, you’re screwed.” Your mother laughs, a light and gentle giggle that you desperately wish you’d inherited, instead of your father’s wheeze.

“Bye, Mom!” You’re done with this conversation. You swipe a granola bar from the counter, and leave for school.

—

Eddie’s POV

“So…?” Dustin pokes and prods at Eddie as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Good morning to you too, Henderson.” Eddie gives the kid a rough pat on the head.

“Good morning, Eddie! Did you get any last night?”

“I don’t know why you guys think it’s okay to ask me that shit.”

“Because you’re an adult, we’re curious, feeble minded children, and we want to hear about our Dungeon Master’s affairs.” Dustin is confident this will win him an anecdote about Eddie’s weekend with you.

“Look, we’re taking things slow for now. We like each other, I kissed them last night—“ This earns a gasp from Dustin, “But we aren’t together, yet. We have to pass midterms first, so we’re giving it a week.”

“That is the stupidest thing I think you've ever said.” Dustin states simply, causing Eddie to hit his brake a little too hard.

“What are you talking about?”

“You think you’re the only one interested in Y/N? I heard maybe three, four separate people talk about them Friday alone, and that was before the party. Can't imagine who’ll try to weasel in once they see you’re not there with them.”

“What are you, twelve? What do you know?”

“I’m fourteen, asshole, and I happen to have a steady girlfriend that I love and cherish deeply!”

Eddie rolls his eyes, Dustin’s got him there. “It was their idea.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Oh, so they don’t want any distractions then?”

“I guess they’re falling behind in a few classes, can't help moving in the middle of the semester.”

“I guess.” Dustin shrugs, “Just, be careful, okay? I like Y/N, but that doesn’t mean I won't go head to head with them if they hurt you.”

Eddie throws his arm around Dustin’s shoulder. “Thanks, big guy.”

—

Your POV

“Hey!” Robin greets you at your locker, and you find yourself relieved having someone else to focus on for a while. “How do you feel about the test? I could barely read my study guides so I have no hope currently.”

You shrug, “I did what I could, it is out of my hands now. We have English tomorrow, I’m even less ready for that.”

“I thought English was your best subject.”

You sigh, of course the topic of conversation would already come back to Eddie. “He’s in my class, we sit right next to each other. How am I supposed to write an essay on freaking Huckleberry Finn when every other thought out of my brain is Eddie?!”

“We can go to the library after school, study a bit, I'll pretend to be Eddie to train you.”

You throw your head back in a fit of laughter, just as Eddie’s walking down the hall past you. “Robin, Y/N.” He winks at you, throwing your equilibrium off immediately.

Robin snorts, “You won't last a week.”

“Hey, fuck you!”

“That’s for Eddie to do, baby.” Robin pulls you with her down the hall, a toothy grin on her lips.

“Oh, my god! Enough about me, do you have any prospects? Steve told me about his thing for you and how he, well he misread that whole situation.”

Robin shakes her head at the memory. “Yeah, that was definitely something, but in the great scheme of what was going on with us at that point, our feelings were the last thing on my mind. As of right now, though, no one’s really caught my eye.”

You smirk at her. “Nancy seems kind of into you.”

“Wheeler?!” Robin comes to a halt. “No, no way. Not only is she the straightest straight girl I’ve ever met, but she also has a boyfriend out in LA, and she’s Steve’s ex!”

“Shit, you’re right, that all sounds really messy and not my business. How about we go out some time over vacation, try to get you out there a little bit? Steve, Eddie, Nancy?”

Robin gives you a sad smile. “If you can figure out a way for all of us to hang out together without it being entirely too weird, you let me know.” She gives your shoulder a pat. “Well, this is my stop! I do like your idea, seriously. Let’s try planning something at lunch?” You nod, and she squeezes your hand as a goodbye. You can’t help but wonder what she means, why it would be so awkward between the five of you.

—-

Eddie’s POV

He debates skipping his third period. He knows math well enough not to need his review period, but he knows you’d scold him for ditching. He drags his feet, knowing you’re about to emerge from the classroom down the hall. maybe he can cheat, get a quick kiss in before the bell.

He catches your eyes when you come out of class, and the panic in your face is undeniable. His face falls, and you’re quick to pivot on your toes, taking the long way to your next class. Eddie can't help it, he's absolutely crushed at your decision, though he admires your strength. He likes to tell himself its strength, trying not to let Dustin’s words get to him. That kiss meant something for you the same way it did for Eddie, it had to.

“Hey.” Robin collapses next to Eddie, not across the room in her normal seat. “We need to talk.”

Eddie and Robin had been fast friends. Beyond both loving the hell out of Dustin Henderson, Eddie isn't sure he has anything in common with her, but somehow they clicked freshman year, when their band instructor had scolded them for talking too much.

“Since when?”

“Since Y/N came up with a brilliant idea to go for a night on the town this weekend.”

“This is the first I’m hearing of this.”

“Which is why I’m telling you, because you two are being so fucking weird and ignoring each other until Friday, so you won’t have time to emotionally prepare. Or, not prepare. So I’m giving you that time to decide what you want to do.”

“Are you telling me to reject them?” Here it comes, the reality check he’s been watching out for. Robin has feelings for you, too, and how is he supposed to compete with something so stinking cute?

“No, I'm giving you an out. Steve and Nancy will be there, and I don’t know your history in great detail, but I know you three kind of go back a little, I don’t mean to pry—“

“Steve and I were kids. He was a fucking asshole. I'm over it, really.”

“Okay, ‘cause if he finds out you’re coming he's gonna make a dramatic scene of trying to overcorrect.”

“Let him, it’s the least he can do after what he put me through.” The final bell rings, silencing the classroom into a study hall. Eddie brings his voice to a whisper, “You think he’d fuck with Y/N? ‘Cause I’d kinda like to see him try.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Look, I know you’re not the biggest fan of Harrington, I get it. I wasn't either for the longest time. But he’s grown up a lot. I think you should give him a chance.” Eddie can't help rolling his eyes. She continues, back tracking, “I know that’s selfish, but now that you’re falling in love with my new friend and taking yet another prospect away from me with your devilish looks, no pun intended, I should be able to ask you to behave. I promise to mention the same to Steve.” Robin holds up three fingers in a Girl Scout’s honor.

“I’m sorry to have stolen a potential mate from a friend so dear to me, I really had no idea. Lest you know, ‘tis not in vain.” He’s hinting at kissing you, and Robin plays along,

“Oh, pray tell, what do you allude to?”

“I kissed them on Saturday.” Eddie’s face goes deep red, and suddenly the heat in the classroom must be working because he feels the need to shed his three layers of jackets.

“Yeah? What was that like?”

Eddie doesn’t want to tell her the truth, that he fucked up and couldn’t do it at first, that he made you cry before he could even touch your lips to his. “It was… exactly what you’d expect from someone like them. Magical, dramatic, definitely something I could write albums about.” Eddie muses, much to Robin’s enjoyment. She loves love, and seeing a close friend fall in love is unlike anything else. She does, however, know that hes not telling her everything.

“Fuckin’ liar.” She hisses, backhanding him in the chest. “They told me everything. You laughed at them.”

“Where is this disloyalty coming from?”

“A place of love, Eddie. You need to work on your game or you’re getting left in the dust.”

At this point, a classmate turns from his seat and spits, “Shh!”

Eddie lowers his voice, “Trust me, I am well aware of the situation. They’re out of my league, and I am out of training, but god help me if they’re not mine by the end of this week.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so serious about someone before.”

“I’ve never felt this seriously about someone before.”

“Good. Prove it.” Robin turns back to her book, demonstrating the end of the conversation.

—

Your POV

The bell rings for lunch, and everything inside you wants to sprint in the opposite direction. Even though you don’t sit with Eddie, you are constantly aware of his presence. Today is no different, as you sit at your table with Robin. Behind her, you can see Eddie, almost completely unobstructed save for Robin’s head, moving into your field of vision. “You okay in there?”

“Is it that obvious?” You let your head fall into your palm as your elbow rests on the table.

“More than obvious. Go talk to him!”

“I cant do that! He deserves to be able to—“ You pause, letting the scene taking place behind Robin take your focus. You cant hear over the buzz of the cafeteria, but you can see what’s happening perfectly. Eddie is talking to a girl. A pretty girl, smaller than you in height and stature, wearing a Hawkins Tigers cheerleading uniform. Eddie’s looking at her with his stupid, toothy smile, the same one he gives you, and looks deeply into her face as she responds. You feel your palms start to sweat when Eddie looks behind the girl, his eyes meeting with yours for the briefest second, before he looks away and laughs at whatever this charming, cute girl is telling him.

“Y/N?” Robin snaps you out of your inner turmoil. “What’s happening, why are you crying?” She sounds far away, her voice muffled like she’s talking to you from rooms away. You hadn’t realized you were crying until she tells you, and you quickly wipe the wetness from your face.

“I’m okay.” You sniffle. Robin takes it upon herself to turn around, spotting Eddie and the girl still shooting the shit. “Oh, no, Y/N.” Robin doesn’t know how to comfort you, which makes it worse.

“Who… who is she?”

“That is Chrissy Cunningham, head cheerleader and girlfriend of Jason Carver, last time I checked. She and Eddie have known each other for ages, fifth grade I think. Im sure that’s nothing, she’s probably buying drugs!” Robin rushes to comfort you.

“Yeah, she looks like the type.” You respond dryly at Robins feeble attempt at soothing your worries.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Chrissy, you know I’d rather stick my foot in a bear trap than go to a party thrown by Jason Carver.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, looking down at the cheerleader with pity. He likes Chrissy, and he knows she’d be cool with him going, but he can't justify taking the risk that Jason will give him shit. Besides, he has better things going on on Friday.

“Yes, I know, but it’s good money. They asked me to pull strings because you trust me.”

“No. I have plans that night.” He chances looking at you again, and finds Robin embracing you as your body heaves up and down. You’re crying, gripping Robin with all your might, and he desperately wishes to trade places with her. Did you see them? Had you been watching them, and assumed the worst?

Chrissy snaps in front of his eyes, turning his attention back to her. “You have plans? What kind of plans?” She elbows him teasingly. Usually, he and Chrissy are friendly, but he’s too concerned with you to participate.

“I have a date. I can sell you some before the party, but I'm not going.”

Chrissy pouts, but gives up trying. “Whoever it is, they’re awfully lucky.” She skips away, leaving his view of you unblocked. He can't help watching you, as Robin hands you a flimsy napkin to wipe your tears with, rubbing your back as your breathing relaxes. He feels his chest tighten, feeling like he caused this. You don’t know Chrissy, or her relationship to Eddie, and he can't help shaking his head at your misunderstanding. Chrissy wouldn’t dare flirt with Eddie, not with Jason on her heels at all times. Even if she had, you’re absolutely insane to think he’d choose her when he’s got a chance with you. He thinks it’s sweet, almost, that you think he’s desirable enough for the head cheerleader.

—

Your POV

Eddie’s already in his seat when you’ve slothed your way to class. It’s almost like he recognizes your footsteps, looking up to meet your eyes as you enter. You have stopped crying now, keeping your mouth a thin line to stifle any aftershocks, slinking down in your seat next to him, as close to the edge that you can manage.

“Okay class,” Mrs. O’Donnell relieves the tension briefly, “I am giving you today as an independent study period. Our midterm is tomorrow, and some of you,” she pauses, making eye contact with a few specific students, including Eddie, “still need more time. I will be grading papers if you have any questions. Please, do not waste this time, and absolutely no talking.” She takes her seat behind her desk, and the room shuffles with the noises of papers being pulled out of folders. You reach for your book, and when you sit back up, there’s a scrap of paper on your desk. You look from the folded piece to Eddie. He isn't looking at you, focusing intensely on his book, reading what is definitely the wrong chapter.

You unfold the note. “U OK?” written in Eddie’s same blue pen.

You click your own pen, deciding to humor him. “Fine.”

“Don’t seem fine.” He doesn’t bother hiding as he writes back, watching as you open it.

“Don’t worry about me. Study.” You slide the note back, and click your pen closed. He rolls his eyes, but goes back to his study guide. You chew on your bottom lip as your eyes blur with tears again. You’re not okay, and you can't tell the one person you want to tell. All you want is to hear that it was nothing, that she’s an old friend, or wanted to buy drugs, or something else that could assuage the jealousy you never knew you could harbor. You can't justify feeling like this, Eddie isn't even your partner. He has every right to talk to girls.

The rest of class is tense, you can feel the heat radiating as Eddie bounces his leg. You want to drag your desk over to him, place a comforting hand on his thigh, ease his mind of any anxiety. You’re not upset with him, you’re upset with yourself. You have always had trust issues, but Eddie isn’t yours to distrust.

When the bell rings, you practically throw yourself from your seat, stumbling slightly as you escape from the room before Eddie has the chance to follow you.

—

Eddie’s POV

He watches as you bolt from the classroom, a sigh escaping his lips. He fights every urge to run after you, track you down, and pull you into the biggest, safest hug you've ever received. He so badly wants you to know you’ve been the only thing on his mind, that even just today has felt like the most difficult year of his life. Every class so far has been met with daydreaming, of running into you in the halls, approaching your locker between classes, dragging you out of class to make out in the bathroom.

When the final bell rings at 2:30, he feels the tension in his muscles subside. He exits the building to the senior parking lot, where he spots you smoking a cigarette next to his van. His heart pounds, a lump forming in his throat. As he approaches, though, you catch him, turning on your heel to your own car. Eddie stops in his tracks to watch you walk away, and once again fights the voice in his head telling him to follow you.

When he reaches the van, there’s a note taped to his windshield. He rips it off, inspecting the stationary, your handwriting scrawled across it reading, “One down.”

“Four to go.” Eddie says aloud to himself, shaking his head. He flips it over and reads, “Call me tonight. 7:30.”

His breath catches. You want to talk to him? “The things I do…” He gets into his van, immediately searching for a specific tape. When he finds it, he plugs it in and cranks it as loud as it’ll go: Oh yeah! Some people say my love cannot be true. Please believe me, my love, and I’ll show you. I will give you those things you thought unreal; The sun, the moon, the stars all bear my seal… Eddie peels out of the parking lot, screaming at the top of his lungs to relieve the stress he’d built up over the second half of the day.

—

Your POV

You stomp back into the building, stubbing your cigarette out on the brick of the building. You’re not in the mood to study, you really just want to go home, lie down, and probably cry for a good six hours, but you aren’t one to flake on your friends.

Robin waves you over to a table in the corner, where she’s spread out index cards, highlighters, and plenty of erasers. “Hi.” You say, tasting the sour mood on your tongue.

“Hey, grumpy.” Robin says lightly, sliding her seat over to make room for you next to her. “How did uh… everything go in English today?”

“As well as it could have, I guess. We had a silent study period, so it made not talking to him a little easier. He tried passing me notes. Asked me if I was okay.”

“Well, that’s a good sign, right? He’s thinking about you still.”

You roll your eyes, “Can we maybe not talk about him right now? I have four days left of this stupid shit, I’d rather just keep plugging along than confront my feelings.”

“As much as I disagree with you, fine. But I promise, you have nothing to worry about. In all the years I’ve known him, Eddie has never been one to give up on someone he cares about. On top of that, I have never, and I mean never, seen him so taken with someone. You have no idea how special you are to him.” Robin takes your hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze.

You squeeze hers back in thanks before responding, “Thank you. I guess I’m just not used to mattering to someone. I was fully ready to believe he had started moving on.” You shake your head at yourself. “I’m never this emotional, not about stuff like this. I’ve never felt like this about someone.”

“Y/N, I know you’re gonna tell me its way too soon for this, but I’m pretty sure that’s what love is.”

“Absolutely not!” Your outburst is met with a look of warning from the librarian, who’d been putting books back behind you.

“It’s not a bad thing!” Robin hushes voice back to a whisper. “And I’m more than certain its reciprocated.”

You want so badly to believe her, but you find it hard to believe that you’re special to anyone, let alone someone like Eddie. You drop the subject, easing your mind with the dullness of Huck Finn. It’s not your favorite, but you retained enough of it when you read it last year. Maybe you can help Eddie over the phone, maybe it’ll be easier if he’s not so close to you. If he doesn’t call, you’ll take it as a sign that it was all too good to be true.

—

Eddie’s POV

He stares at his watch intently as the seconds tick by. 7:01. He’s sitting by his landline, English notes in hand trying to bring himself to look at them. Even if he could bring himself to read, he wouldn’t retain anything on the page. His mind races with scenarios of what you could want to talk about. Chrissy is his first thought. He imagines explaining what had happened, easing any worry you could have, comforting you only with the sound of his voice. Maybe it’s not that, though. He runs through the possibilities. Studying, maybe. Or, perhaps it’s a loophole in your own plan. This way you can talk to him without an impact on your grades. His mind eventually digs deeper, into a more devilish place in his mind.

Eddie imagines you in your bed, a clear image now that he’s been in your room. Your comforter is draped across your middle, one hand underneath it while the other holds the phone to your ear. On the other line, Eddie whispers sweet nothings to you. Asks what you’re wearing, if you could take some of it off. He’d tell you what to do, how to touch yourself to the sound of his voice. He’d listen to you whine on the other end, your breathing heavy as you beg him to come.

Shit. Eddie can feel the tent in his pants, and he looks back at his watch. 7:05. He figures he had enough time to take care of everything, but as he moves to get up from the couch when the phone rings.

Shit! There’s no way it’s you. “Munson Residence, Eddie speaking.” Eddie deadpans, expecting a telemarketer selling encyclopedia volumes.

“Hey.” It’s you. Fucking Christ.

“Hi. I thought you said 7:30?” He can’t help smiling, hearing the sound of your voice for the first time in 24 hours.

“I did, I definitely did. I uh, got home earlier than I thought I would.”

“Oh, sure. Totally. What’s up?” Eddie leans against the wall, cupping the phone between his ear and his shoulder.

“Well. I couldn’t help but notice you trying to study today. I thought maybe we could study like this? Help each other out before tomorrow?”

Eddie snorts into the receiver. “Are you serious? Or did you want to hear my voice so badly you made that up?” He’s getting cocky, but he has a feeling you’re not gonna hang up.

“It isn’t not that,” You say, and he can hear your smile behind the words. “But I know English is not your favorite, and I want to help. Plus I know you can’t read your notes.” You’ve got him there.

“Fine, we can study, I guess, but after that, we have to have a real conversation. It’s only fair.”

There’s a pause, as you consider his offer. “Deal.”

—

Your POV

The clock next to your bed beeps, 8:00. You’d been surprisingly focused on studying for the last hour, quizzing Eddie on the themes and plot of Huckleberry Finn. “You seem to get it a little better than when we started,” you observe, slowly shifting away from your text. “I guess you deserve a break. What did you want to talk about?”

Eddie hesitates, and you can hear him breathing into the receiver. “I wanted to know what happened today at lunch.” You can feel yourself go cold, did he see you crying?

“What do you mean?”

“You were upset. I saw you hugging Robin, wiping your eyes. I wanted to check on you sooner, but I also want to respect your boundaries this week. We said we wouldn’t talk at school, and I didn’t know about the phone loophole.” He chuckles.

“Oh, god, you saw that? No, no I’m totally fine. Nothing to worry about.” You try to shut him down but he persists.

“That is so not true. What happened, sweetheart?”

You groan, letting the pet name sink into your bones. “This is embarrassing.”

“You have no reason to be embarrassed around me, Y/N. Please just tell me what happened. Did I have anything to do with it?”

It’s your turn to hesitate, while you wonder if you should even bother telling him. You decide honesty is the best policy. “Yeah, you could say that. I just got stupidly jealous for a second. Which isn’t fair to you. I saw you talking to that cheerleader, Chrissy, and I guess I kinda freaked out.”

“That’s awfully flattering, thinking Chrissy would want anything to do with me.”

You roll your eyes, “Please, could you stop underestimating your likability. Everyone that’s ever met you, loves you. I’ve heard that firsthand.”

He scoffs, but makes his voice soft, gentle. “It’s still impossible to believe you’d be jealous of Chrissy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? She’s everything you could possibly want! Pretty, popular, kind, I don’t see how that’s a stretch.”

“Sure, she’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with Chrissy. But she’s not you. She’s not even close.”

Your cheeks feel hot, your mouth dry as your heart rate jumps. “Isn’t that a good thing? That she’s nothing like me?”

There’s a tense pause as Eddie thinks through what to say next. “It’s a great thing that she’s not like you. No one is. Makes it that much clearer you’re the only one I want. The only person I’ve had the capacity to think about since meeting you. It’s paralyzing, even, the way I feel about you.”

“I hope you know that feeling is mutual, pretty boy.” It’s not much, you can’t begin to put your feelings for Eddie into words. But you hope he gets the point for now.

“It’s nice to hear it anyway.”

—

Eddie’s POV

There’s a knock on his door then. Not much of a knock, more like an angry slamming against the screen. “Hold on, baby. It looks like I have company.” He places the phone on the counter, receiver up so you know he’s still there. Eddie saunters to the front door, ready to reprimand whoever has the gaul to interrupt his conversation with you.

It’s a red faced, shaking Jason Carver. “What do you want?” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, bracing for another fist fight.

“Don’t you ever talk to Chrissy again, you hear me?”

“She talked to me, dude. Told me you gave her permission,” he spits the word, disgusted with Jason’s power over his friends and girlfriend. “Told me you wanted to party. I said no.”

“Shut up. She would never do that, never want anything to do with you. Understand? Don’t talk to her, look at her, even think about her, or I’ll fuck you and your bitch up.”

He can talk all the shit he wants about Eddie, but the second he refers to you that way, he’s charging at Jason. Eddie takes him down with ease, having a good three inches on his height. “Don’t you even think of touching them, you understand me?” Eddie’s got Jason pinned to the ground, a hand gripping each shoulder, throwing his head into the grass. “Don’t look at them, don’t think about them. I’m finished letting you think you can push me around, and I am especially done with you saying shit about Y/N.” He climbs off of Jason, letting him get up. “Go the fuck home, Jason. Leave us alone. Let Chrissy live without you hovering over her. She’ll leave you, y’know. She’ll get sick of your shit someday.”

Jason grunts, brushing the dirt from his jeans. “Whatever, Munson. You’re in for it now.” He turns to walk away.

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots! Come get me, Jason! I’m starting to think you’ve got a crush!”

Jason only flips him off before getting into his car, speeding out of the park.

Eddie rolls his eyes, jogging back into the trailer, immediately picking up the phone. “You still there?”

“Hi, yes, I’m still here. What the hell was that?”

“That was Jason.”

“What?!” Your voice pitches up an octave, the fear in it unmistakable. “What the fuck did he want?!”

“To threaten me for selling drugs to his girlfriend, or something.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me. Stay away from him, though. He’s gonna target you if he can’t get to me.”

There’s a pause. “I can handle him.” You sound certain, and Eddie knows that’s true.

“That doesn’t mean you should have to. Let me worry about him for you.”

You sigh, definitely a little sick of Eddie’s heroics. “We take care of each other.”

Eddie smiles into the receiver. “Okay. I think I can live with that.”

You two talk for hours, and Eddie finds himself twirling the phone cord like a teenage girl talking to her crush. Finally, the clock strikes midnight, and Eddie hears you yawn. “Okay, sweetheart. It’s time for bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. From afar.”

“Okay, Eds. Goodnight.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

—

chapter VII

a/n i’m trying to finish chapter 7 to get it up sooner, i know this one’s kind of a filler but i need to add suspense!

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First ship: I genuinely don’t know? And now that I’m realizing I don’t know I’m actually a tiny bit sad about that. I’d started writing things that can only be described as fanfiction long before I was old enough to be online and before we evolved past dial-up in my house & being on the computer became simple enough to not feel like a hassle anyway - which is all just to say that when I did wind up interacting with fannish communities later on, fanfic specifically wasn’t something totally new to me so I never had vivid memories of my first experiences of it. As a kid fanfic was what you basically had to do when you reached the end of any media you’d even somewhat enjoyed and the author rather rudely neglected to go on telling the story infinitely - so I think it must’ve been a while before shipping became a major thing on my radar, and it probably happened gradually. I do distinctly remember finding it a little ironic in high school that so much online/tumblr specific fandom was about shipping, and I was in multiple fandoms and had several ships, but I didn’t have any big passionate (or even non-canon & in need of defending) ships for my main fandom, which was always Doctor Who - though at the time, just nuwho. There, the only things I could be said to ship were pretty straightforward pairings like the Ponds, Doctor/River, Jack/Ianto, etc. - and I’m guessing whatever things I had that counted as ships before I got into fandom were similar to those, just a kind of passing approval of/investment in ships that were already well-established elements of their source material.

Three Ships: well Two/Jamie always (connected to the above tangent, I was involved in fandom for close to a decade before I came across them, but I’d never found cause to use the term otp before then), and at the moment the other ships taking up the next-most space in my brain are probably Ben/Polly and Geordi/Data

Last Song: Ruin by the Amazing Devil (I remember it playing as I drove home last night)

Last Movie: ah see I’m actually quite bad about watching movies/even remembering they exist. There’s a real possibility the most recent one was The Final Frontier, simply because I’ve been doing a long slow chronological trek through Star Trek, and I’m currently in the early 90s so I know I must have watched that one at some point in the last year or so, and more recently than any of the ones that came out before it

Currently Reading: Ok this I’m legitimately embarrassed about, because I’m not normally anywhere near this slow with books at all, and neither of these are bad, boring, or even slow-paced, it’s solely a matter of how horribly hectic & unpredictable my life’s been for the last few months - but I’ve been both near the end of Bare-Arsed Banditti and a couple hundred pages deep into The Two Towers since the end of August (I hate that fact so much but I need to admit it. It’s available information on my Storygraph account anyway it should not be so hard to say)

Currently Consuming: Twining’s Irish Breakfast tea, black. I am often consuming twining’s irish breakfast tea black

Currently Craving: a break - or maybe just routine in general? I’ve been doing a lot of overlapping freelance work lately: short-term projects that don’t last long enough to allow for anything like ‘time off’ & have all the busy-ness of full-time without any of the stability, which kinda feels like the worst of both worlds tbh. 2022 was a rough year for me for that in general, but it got especially bad in the fall & winter and I’m hoping to get a better handle on my own schedule in the next few weeks one way or another, but I’m sorry to anyone I’ve kinda ghosted in the interim

Tagging: @uighean​ @terryfphanatics​ @seismologically-silly​ and anybody else who wants to do it!

[yzeltia]

Handed Down from Stone

Chapter 19: Etched in Garnet Characters: Y'zel Tia, A'yuhn Tia, X'pahlo Tia, Asa Obinata, Eloise Rating: T for Tias Notes: Reference to Y'zel's time as a sex worker

-Hingashi, before the resistance's reclamation of Doma -

Y’zel winced as he was led onto the floor, looking back to A’yhun Tia, his captor’s eyes upon his back. He knew better to run, failing enough now to not entertain the thought. No, he’d be good. He’d mingle among the Hingashi elite, dance and entertain in whatever way they fashioned, and, if lucky, returned to his cell for A’yhun’s future torments. Knowing better than to hide it out, he did as trained, wandering to where he could be seen.

“My my my. You seem a fish out of water, but then again, so do I,” a suave voice called out.

Y’zel’s ears perked as he turned towards the voice. Smiling at him, a Seeker dressed all in red approached, foil on his hip. Stopping before the captive, he gave him a once over before offering him his hand to pull onto the floor.

“Thank you,” Y’zel whispered, letting the other take the lead as music began to play.

“You needn't be so gracious. And watch your step. In combat I am rather agile but on the dancing floor I have two left feet, ” the man sang, wiggling his ears playfully, “What is your name? No no. Let me guess… Gota’a?”

“No…”

“Okhi’to?”

Y’zel shook his head.

“Shan’li?”

“It is not.”

The man beamed then moved in close, lips to the other’s ears, “Y’zel Tia?”

The Miqo’te froze as he heard his own name. His eyes darted to A’yhun, his captor seemingly engaged in something else. This was certainly a trap, right? Anyone who would miss him at home were occupied, and he’d yet to establish any certain means of regular communication. And his Uncle Asa…he doubted the man would care if he didn’t return.

“It’s Elliot’to…” he corrected, giving the name he A’yuhn had instructed. 

“Right then. Way off. I am X’pahlo the Crimson Knight,” the man laughed, stepping away with a little bow before waving his hand out, “Yes Yes. I am that X’pahlo but please do not feel embarrassed by having such a renowned mage in your presence. A bonafide hero of Gyr Abania. A master of martial and aetheric arts. A-”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of you,” Y’zel interrupted, watching the Seeker’s ears and tail go limp.

“I bet you’d know Deep Red,” the mage mumbled, ears flicking back in annoyance as the captive nodded, “Anyroad. That aside. I’ve heard tales that this establishment is not on the up and up. I’ve got a friend you see…an unsavory sort. A back alley cat. A rogue among rogues.”

Y’zel took a step back as the other continued to talk, feeling A’yuhn’s eyes on him. Nervously, he reached out and put his arms around the other, closing the distance as he apologetically clung to the man.

“Ah! There’s no need to be afraid of him,” X’pahlo sang, spinning, “My rogue friend works with a bunch of fine folks in Thanalan  and has been paid a handsome some of money to seek out one Y’zel Tia, son of Raiden Obinata, by the latter’s brother. It just so happens that the great Crimson Knight tagged along on his ship and I fit much better in crowds like this compared to that no good alley cat.”

Y’zel tried to keep his expression neutral upon hearing the information from the chatty mage.

“Yes, it’s only a matter of time before the resistance takes up in Doma. Once the chaos starts, it’ll disrupt all the way out to here if I imagine. I believe that sadistic Tia up there has several dealings with the Garleans in that area, he’ll be called to handle that and while that cat’s away…the other cats will play,” X’pahlo sang before dipping the Tia and looking him sternly in the eyes, “It is important that when the alarms sound, Y’zel Tia, whoever he may be, remains in his cell until found with this.”

Y’zel blinked as he was pulled back up and given a small chocobo plush. He stared at it, then looked to X’pahlo, not quite drawing it towards himself as he looked on in disbelief over the gesture, especially if this was the man who deigned to rescue him.

“I see your confusion. This is the most wondrous of gifts. The very symbol of the red mage’s power! A focus,” he whispered, putting his arm around the other as he gestured to the buffet, occasionally looking to ensure the host remained uninterested in their interaction, “I am certain from what I’ve heard about Y’zel Tia, that he will have no trouble using it to cast spells as needed when the time comes.”

“We cannot draw aether. They put a shackle on us that-”

“Ah! Yes, yes. You cannot draw in.  But that is the secret of those who take the red. The magick comes from within. When the time comes, Y’zel Tia will just have to let his aether free to ensure he and the alley cat make it out safely while leaving the destruction of this establishment to the Crimson Knight,” the Seeker said, giving Y’zel a little wink before bowing deeply, “You’ve been great company Elliot’to. Perhaps one day we shall dance again.”

Y’zel looked on as the other sauntered away, clutching the focus in his hand before looking to A’yuhn. The other Miqo’te stared back, raising a brow at the doll before giving his attention to his customers, leaving his captive to return to mingling, hoping that the gift would pass under the radar as simply an item of comfort given by a patron. If deemed invaluable, he’d have hope. Maybe he just might get to be free.

-Gubal, Present- 

"Uncle, I've cometoaskifyou'dofficiatemywedding."

Eloise tilted her head as she stared at Y'zel, "You're still saying it too fast. He's an old man Zel. Say it slow and calm."

"Who's an old man," Asa's voice sounded.

Eloise jumped as the Au Ra approached, the man furrowing his brow at the both of them, "You've got another haircut…nephew."

Y'zel nodded as he bashfully looked away as he fussed with his bangs.

"Yes Uncle."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Was there something you wanted to ask your uncle," Eloise cut in as the two awkwardly avoided speaking and eye contact.

"Right. I'm…getting married."

"Congratulations."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I swear to the Scholar, both of you will grey my hair. Asa, Zel wants you to be a part of his ceremony. Zel, your uncle will be honored. I'll be his plus one. Good? Good!"

Eloise let out an exasperated sigh, as the two were taken aback by her outburst. Asa cleared his throat shortly after, "It's not the rogue is it?"

"Oh no. If you mention marriage in the same breath he'd be malms away in an instant."

"Good."

"That's not to say I'm not seeing him as well…"

"I thought you were getting married?"

"Miqo'te tend to have many partners. I'm sure you're aware Uncle."

"I see. So then should I address you as Y'zel Nuhn?"

Eloise burst out laughing as the Miqo'te turned bright red.

"What? What!" Asa demanded between them.

"No. That's…that's not how that works Uncle."

"I don't think anyone knows how that works," the man grumbled, "So Claudien then? That's a relief over the Rogue. At least on paper."

"Well…no….not Claudien."

"You've another paramour?"

"Yes. Leonnioux de Ouraux."

Asa stiffened for a moment, face darkening with anger before slowly releasing tension as Eloise reached out to hold his wrist. The Au Ra took a deep breath then closed his eyes. "The son of the man who had my brother and you chased out of Ishgard?"

"Yes Uncle. He has suffered much for his father's sins…"

Asa pinched the scales on the bridge of his nose as he calmed himself. "Raiden wrote of him. The young lord that clumsily tried to reach out to you while you rebuffed his every advance in friendship. He was always in a panic of what to do when you started having affections for your peers and the questions you'd ask. He knew nothing of Miqo'te's and even less about matters of the heart."

"That runs in the family it seems," Eloise hummed playfully.

Asa rolled his eyes, "Regardless. He cannot be held responsible for his father's actions. Knowing Ishgard, he already had a great deal of that. Though…if he makes you shed a single tear, on my brother's honor, I will see that not a single hair of him will be found."

Y'zel's ears and tail perked hide at the declaration. "U-Uncle!"

Asa let out a hearty laugh before reaching into his pocket. "Here. I found this in some of the things from when you were away."

Y'zel tilted his head as a small chocobo plush was set in his hands, along with a key. "This is…"

"The key to your father's, Y'lem's, local estate and some toy you left behind."

The Miqo'te shook his head, "It's a focus given to me by Ioh'Juhn's friend that helped rescue me."

Closing his eyes, he inhaled, letting the toy channel his aether before letting it rise into the air. With a sharp exhale, fire flourished from it, igniting every unlit candle in the room. 

"Neat truck," Asa hummed before gently bopping the Miqo'te between the ears, "But don't ever do that around the books again."

"Sorry Uncle…"

"Now then. Was there something else you came to ask?"

Y'zel nodded, hugging the Chocobo to his chest. 

"Yes. I'd like to borrow the family bokken for a spell. Just to connect with dad…though, I think I might not need it as long as I thought," he hummed, turning the key to Y'lem's house in his palm.

"I can part with it for a time, yes."

"Thank you, Uncle," the Miqo'te replied with a bow, leaving the man to go retrieve the sword. 

Sighing, Y'zel let his gaze drift away, out the window and down to the ruined settlement, trying to make out which he'd lived in. He doubted his next confession would be as easy.

[snowdice]

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.