#also you’re WAY FARTHER AWAY THAN EMILE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wilwywaylan · 3 years

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Here’s to pretty boys who went to our beds

Fandom : Stand Still Stay Silent

Canon-compliant, post-Adventure 1, Emil x Lalli, 5104 words, gen / K+

Béta-ed by the amazing @paon-de-jour ♥♥

Emil just wanted a bed for himself and some peace, but Lalli has other plans...

Please pretend that they stayed one night in town before leaving for Reynir’s place.

Also on AO3 !

Emil looked around the room, appraising each and every minute detail. It was nothing more than a small, square space, with a single person bed, a small nightstand that had seen better days, and a giant dresser that dwarfed the whole room. Impression made even stronger by the wooden floor and panelling that tried to pass as dark and polished, but was certainly black due to old age. The only fanciness came from paper-thin drapes hanging in front of the tiny window, and a copper lamp set on the nightstand. Emil could maybe have tried to get something a little better, but the cost would certainly have climbed to high heavens, and he wasn't even sure there was anything better in that hotel. And after months spent in cramped spaces with no privacy, way too much noise, and sometimes no walls, it felt more welcoming that any house Emil had ever set foot in.

He set his bag at the foot of the bed - the room was so narrow that it ate almost all the space between the furniture and the wall - but right now, the only thing that mattered was the mattress, and a great question : would it be comfortable, or hard as a plank ? He sat down, carefully. And promptly let himself fall backwards. Oh, it was comfortable. It was better than comfortable. It was soft, it was sinful, it was heavenly. It sank under him, hugging his body in a warm embrace. What was in it, Emil didn't know. Feathers, straw... didn't matter. But it was nice. It was perfect.

He quickly undressed, setting his clothes at the end of the bed, and slid under the - soft, heavy, warm - blankets. The bedspread on top of them looked handknit - handknit ! Emil burried his face in the pillow that was maybe even softer than the mattress, breathed in the smell of soap and something that was certainly not that of a pillowcase that hadn't been washed for months. He didn't want to leave, ever. No way he could go back to a measly cot in a boat or a tank. He burrowed a little deeper under the covers, enjoying the warmth, and the quiet. After months locked in a metal can or being in the wild every night , the silence of the night was almost deafening. No motor noises to keep him awake, no cat stepping on every bed in the middle of the night, no crew mates to fill the air with random sighs (Tuuri), grunts (Mikkel), mumbles (Reynir and Sigrid) or all those mixed with tossing and turning (Lalli). Nothing but the cracks of the rafters over his head, and a gust of wind from time to time, gently whistling around the building, rattling the shutters against the wall. Any other time, he would have got up to secure them and stop that noise, but the effort needed was way too important right now. Already, his eyes were closing, his body was getting heavier and heavier. Before he could muster the energy to get up, he had fallen prey to sleep.

To shoot up only an hour later, heart knocking against his ribs. That last crack hadn't come from above like the others, but somewhere from his left. Something was out there, something that could catch him at any time, and he had fallen asleep like an idiot, without a vigil, and he had discarded his weapons, oh no where were they, he only had a few seconds before...

The shutter rattled again, managing to cut through the rising panic and bring him back to his senses. There was no troll, or giant, or any creature prowling in the dark. He was not outside in the Silent World, but in a small hotel in a secure town, in a regular bed, with a roof over his head and a hefty meal in his stomach. There was no weapon beside his bed, because there was no need. He was safe.

But that didn't explain the crack that had woke him up. And another, even closer. Troll or not, something was coming nearer. Emil patted the nightstand, trying to find the copper lamp and a way to light it, when something landed on the bed, sinking the mattress.

If someone had asked him under oath to tell the truth, Emil would still deny that he let out anything else than a small noise, and certainly not a piercing shriek. Something knocked him lightly on the side of the head.

- Stop, stupid.

Emil's heart jumped once more, but it was more surprise than fear. Now that he'd grown accustomed to the darkness, he could vaguely see a human-shaped shadow beside him. A human-shaped with silvery hair barely visible and large, blue eyes, faintly glowing in the darkness.

- Lalli ? What are you doing here ?

Emil realized then that he had spoken entirely in Swedish, and probably too fast for Lalli to grasp what he was saying. But his point seemed to reach him, because he said, with a gesture that could have been a shrug :

- Tired. Sleep.

The words took two seconds to make their way through the fog of sleep still wrapped around Emil's thoughts, and not just because of Lalli's accent. In fact, it had got a little better lately, better at least than Emil's Finnish. But good Swedish or not, there was no reasons he cound envision that would bring the mage on his bed in the middle of the night. Maybe it was another trick of his mind, like imagining Lalli in his dreams. If it had been a trick, which wasn't neither here nor there.

Lalli must have grown impatient, because he pushed him aside. Or tried to, but his arms weren't strong enough to do more than move Emil an inch to the right. At least it made his intentions crystal clear, which only served to confuse Emil even more. He couldn't remember when or if he'd ever seen Lalli sleep in a bed in a normal way, only under beds, in small spaces, or curled up in a seat in a way oddly reminiscent of a cat. But in a bed ? No, never. Which made even more puzzling the fact that not only he wanted a bed, but he seemed to have set his mind on Emil's bed. It... didn't make sense. Not at all.

- Lalli, Emil said cautiously, this is my bed, and...

- I know. Move.

- You don't have a room ? Didn't Onni...?

Lalli scoffed at the suggestion.

- Move, he repeated.

Emil could have thrown him out. He could have nicely suggested that he went back to his own room to enjoy his probably-as-comfortable bed or his probably-not-as-comfortable floor under said bed, or a tent shared with his cousin, or wherever he wanted to spend the night. He could have defended his right to his own bed after months of rooming with the noisiest roommates in the world. He deserved it, dammit ! He had earned it !

Instead, he laid down again and moved against the wall, leaving some space. Not much, it was still a single-person bed, and not a very large at that. He was expecting Lalli to lie down beside him, like they had done every time they had shared their sleeping quarters. At least the Finn didn't take too much space, built as he was, as long as he didn't flap around too much. He certainly didn't expect Lalli to just pull the covers and flop down. On him. His head hit Emil on the chest, knocking the wind out of him and effectively cutting down on all his protestations. In the several seconds it took for him to get his breath back, Lalli had settled on him, one leg thrown over Emil's and an arm around his waist. His head nestled on Emil's shoulder, moving a little to make himself more comfortable. And he stayed like this, perfectly happy with the situation.

Which wasn't Emil's case. Not that he was complaining, but... Okay, he should be complaining, a lot. Saying something, anything, because this certainly wasn't normal. There wasn't any way Lalli was right now lying on top of him like he was just another pillow, not flinching away from the contact. It was just a dream. That, or Lalli was very, very drunk. And, then, it was very, very bad of Emil to get any enjoyment from the situation. He needed to do the right thing, before Lalli came back to his senses and killed him very gruesomely.

Carefully, Emil extracted his hand from where it was stuck, between the mattress and the wall, and shook Lalli's shoulder. He was immediatly swatted at.

- Stop, Lalli growled.

- You're not... Emil started, but he couldn't get farther.

- Tired. I sleep. Talk in morning.

His voice seemed assured enough for him not to be drunk, and enough also for Emil to guess that he wasn't going to move anytime soon. Emil could have moved him himself, rolled him out of bed and in the hallway, leave him to find his way back to his room on his own. But he didn't.

Instead, he did his best to make himself as comfortable as possible. It was made a bit easier by Lalli lying on top of him instead of beside him, leaving him a bit more space. And a lot, a whole lot harder by everything else. First, because nothing, be it in the army or during their little expedition, could have help him get ready for someone sleeping on him. It was... weird. He knew how heavy Lalli was (which was, not a lot), he'd carried him or dragged him around enough to know it. But right now, he was heavy enough to pin him to the mattress, keeping him where he was with no chance of escape.

Second, because Lalli was, there was no other way to put it, pointy. His cheekbone was digging in Emil's collarbone, painfully pressing against it each time he moved. His shoulder was tightly squashed against Emil's, and his knee was poking him in the thigh. He'd probably have bruises in the morning, he thought a little bitterly.

And third, because it was starting to be uncomfortably hot under the blankets. Lalli's body was giving an impressive amouth of warmth, and wrapped as he was around Emil, he was acting like some kind of weirdly shaped comforter. Except for his feet, which were still ice cold, and pressed against Emil's legs to warm them. Leaving, of course, two freezing spots on his skin.

Still, Emil didn't even try to make their respective positions better, only pushed the blankets down a little, burrowed his head in the pillow that Lalli had left him, and closed his eyes. But even exhausted as he was, sleep evaded him. He could feel minutes pass, one by one, jumping lightly over him, his eyelids growing heavy... but still, he was wide awake, glaring in the darkness at the ceiling he couldn't see. Come on, he had managed to sleep through the noise of the tank, the snores of three-to-five people (depending on the night), being chased by monsters, and now, such a minor inconvenience would be too much for him to sleep through ? Nonsense !

But could he really put Lalli down as an annoyance ? Granted, he was annoyed, yes. That he couldn't get the privacy and full bed he had been yearning so much after. But as the minutes passed one by one, slowly becoming an hour, Emil realized that he cared less and less about it. Maybe he was finally falling asleep. Or maybe he just couldn't stay mad at Lalli for more than a few minutes. Even at his worse behavior (the breakfast incident was coming to mind), Emil kept coming back to him, trying to make himself understand, and to break the icy demeanor. Well, it seemed to have worked wonderfully, if their position was anything to go by.

The Finn didn't seem to have the same hang-ups as he did, and had fallen asleep. His breath was even, and the grasp around Emil had relaxed a little. He didn't seem disturbed by the situation. The situation he'd orchestrated and that was entirely his doing, okay. But still. For someone who was so skittish and only slept in closed spaces, he looked perfectly fine sleeping in the open, in such proximity of someone whom he could barely communicate with out of the dream realm. Very unaware or uncaring of the predicament he had just thrown Emil in. Was he even conscious of it ? Or did he just get so used to sharing sleeping quarters that he just didn't realize how someone would feel in this situation ?

Because he was feeling weird, and it had nothing (next-to-nothing) to do with the normal weirdness of the situation. Unless feeling one's cheeks burn and one's pulse running fast were usual symptoms of having one's private space invaded. His heart was beating wildly against his ribs, so hard that Lalli would surely hear it and wake up. And then call him stupid. Which seem to be more and more common, these days. Not the stupid-calling part, even if Lalli still used the word a great deal.

He hadn't thought that much, at the start. Since the first days of the expedition, he'd taken an interest in Lalli. Maybe because the mage was intriguing, with his weird manierisms, his distant attitude and his piercing eyes. Maybe because he was aloof, and being ignored didn't stand well with Emil. He had tried his best, trying to get to him, seeking his attention, talking to him despite the barrier language, getting only weird glances and muttered groans for his efforts. But they had grown closer, slightly. The pull had grown stronger, keeping Emil drawn to Lalli, more and more, and Lalli, in turn, became a little less cold, a little... friendlier, even ?

And when he was around him, when he managed to make him lose the glum expression, even for half a second, even just a slight quirk of the lips, when Lalli let his shields down around him and acted a little more comfortable, Emil's heart started beating a little faster, and he felt... strange. The first time, he had thought he had caught a fever, and actually started checking everywhere he could if he wasn't developping the first traces of the Rash, even knowing very well that he was immune. But there was nothing, and the feeling had receeded. At the time, he had felt relieved. Until Lalli almost-smiled at him, and it came back, the heart, the heat, and clammy hands at the same time. And again, and again, until Emil started to see a pattern. It was Lalli. A Lalli-induced fever. That was stupid, but he couldn't deny the link. And still, he kept seeking Lalli's presence, because being with Lalli made him feel weird, but there was also a feeling of elatement when he could reach him, a rush of energy that made him smile no matter what.

And then, of course, the whole dreamscape adventure happened. It had been weird, to be suddenly able to communicate with Lalli perfectly. To discover that the Finn was way less silent and drawn than Emil had first thought, quite sarcastic, even, and seemed very perfectly comfortable with sharing a space with him. It had been fun, in a way, enjoyable, even, to spend time together, to chat like that, and Emil did regret not being able to do it anymore.

(His mind carefully danced around the events that led to said dreamscape adventure, pushing aside the fear at being lost far away from the others, at seeing Lalli's lifeless body, the low-key despair of dragging said body across a snowy waistland without a hint of relief in sight, the pain in his arms, his legs, his head, burning and freezing, the hunger, and the loneliness, and above all, the terror, neverending, squeezing his heart, and him counting the steps as not to think about what would happen sooner or later, counting the steps at day and Lalli's breaths at night, scared of them stopping and not going again...)

Maybe that was the reason of Lalli's presence right now. A way of thanking him for not abandonning him to the dusklings or in the middle of the snow, of taking care of him even in the face of impending death. Had he caught on Emil's efforts, or maybe those feelings that even he couldn't put a name on, that made him seek the Finn through his worst moods and stay with him no matter what ? Did he see his presence tonight, the was he was holding on Emil, as some kind of... reward ? A way of getting even ?

Emil's chest suddenly felt tight, and a sharp pain on the side made him wince. No, that could be possible, he didn't want to even entertain the thought. Lalli didn't just decide to come and sleep in his bed just in exchange for saving his life, like he would have bought him dinner or a trinket or something. He would certainly have retorted that Emil did choose to help him and besides, he had already thanked him. And they had saved each other's lives enough by now not to think that one needed to find a way to thank the other. No, it wasn't just some kind of weird, emotionless transaction. It couldn't be ! He didn't want it to be ! He didn't want it to be just give and take. He wanted it to be as meaningful for Lalli as it was for him. He wanted Lalli to want to be with him, to seek his companionship as Emil seeked his. He wanted Lalli to appreciate him. To like him. And the weight of that realization was as crushing as the one on his chest.

Lalli suddenly stirred, his arm tightening around Emil. His foot shot up, hitting him in the shin and made him yelp. The noise didn't wake Lalli up, but he started trashing around, his hand reaching up to grab at his hair and pull. All idea of sleep left Emil's mind ; Lalli's nightmares usually meant troubles incoming, and incoming fast. He listened intently, trying to pick on anything that would mean troubles, a noise, a signal, anything. But the night was silent, beside the small rustling of the blanket and the strangled whines ripped out of Lalli's throat.

A pitpating outside the door drew Emil's attention. Cat paws. A cat was going down the hallway. And it didn't seem to hurry in any way. Which meant that there wasn't any danger around. Good. Then Lalli's nightmare was just that, a nightmare. This came as no surprise for Emil ; with everything he'd seen and been through, it was even a wonder that he had been able to fall asleep. He'd probably had nightmares every night since he'd managed to get out of the dream world, and even before. And he had had to deal with them alone, without anyone to help. Not that Emil knew how to help someone he could barely have a conversation with, especially when one was awake and couldn't get into the dreamscape. And Lalli hadn't shown a thing to anyone, dealing alone with hurt and fear. It hurt, it hurt a lot to think of his friend having to go through it alone.

Gently, Emil laid a hand on Lalli's forehead, slid it over his eyes. It had worked, that time, in the cat tank, and it worked again. Lalli emited a low noise, that "mrrp" that sounded so much like a cat purring, and relaxed. His hand opened slightly, the fingers still curling around Emil's collar. His breath evened out, stroking Emil's throat, making him shiver, but he didn't push him or turn away. It was a mark that Lalli's sleep had become peaceful again, at least for the time being. It made Emil smile, to see that he could still be of help for Lalli. Of course, he wouldn't be able to do that every night, unless they slept in close quarters on the regular again, like they did in the wild, or shared...

Emil shook his head to push the idea out of his mind. Not because it was in direct opposition with what he wanted (privacy, a bed just for him), but because it made him feel strangely... giddy. No, he didn't want that ! He wanted his comfort, he wanted to be left alone ! But even as he tried to focus on this, on a bed larger and larger each time, he didn't feel as elated as he was previously. He was trying to picture the numerous pillows and the heavy comforter, when Lalli moved a little against him, mrrping again, and Emil immediatly forgot about his plans.

Very gently, he unstuck his arm from where it was caught under Lalli, and brought him around the Finn's shoulders to pull him a little closer. He didn't dare turning on his side and holding him fully. Even now, he wasn't sure of how much exactly Lalli would accept from him, and he didn't want to start pushing him too far. Especially not now, when he was sleeping and could not agree or disagree. So he stayed as he was, enjoying the warmth of Lalli against him, the lull of his breath and the low sighs he gave here and there. The awkwardness had dissipated, leaving him with contentment, and horribly exhausted. But it didn't matter if he could stay like this, Lalli's head on his shoulder and his arm around his waist, safe against him.

That's how sleep claimed him, holding Lalli, the blankets tight around them like a cocoon, keeping them close.

Emil awoke with a start. He'd been sleeping so peacefully, perfectly settled in his bed, when the shutters had slammed together with a bang. He sat up, heart beating wildly. It took him a second to remember where he was and what he was doing here. Sleeping, right. Enjoying the real bed with a real mattress. Spending a real, restful night in a real room. He let himself fall down, relishing in the dip under him. He spread his arms, almost hitting the wall in the process, and let himself drift away again.

Wait.

There was something wrong with the picture. He hadn't laid like that last night, occupying all the space he could, because there was no space to speak of, courtesy of Lalli. He could still remember the Finn's weight on his shoulder and how his arm had grasped him around the waist. But there was no trace of Lalli in the room bathed by the early morning light. No warmth beside him, no footprints on the floorboards, nothing. Like he had vanished into thin air. Or rather, abandonned ship as soon as he could.

Emil tried not to feel too disappointed at the thought, but he could have guess it would end like this. Lalli may have looked for a place to sleep, but it was on his terms. Being held too close by Emil certainly didn't factor in his decision, and he probably had run as soon as he realized their closeness. He probably hated him for catching him in such a position, now, and he would certainly never talk to him again. Not that Emil minded, of course. His bed would be his and his alone.

... oh, who was he trying to kid ? Of course, he would mind ! He had made so many efforts to get closer to Lalli, and he had thrown everything out the window because he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Stupid. Lalli was right. Stupid, stupid Emil ! He would have slapped himself, hadn't he been afraid of leaving marks on his cheeks. Maybe he could fix it by going into the dreamspace and explain everything to Lalli ? But one needed to be asleep for that, and he certainly wasn't ready to go back to sleep. Not to mention Lalli was awake, and wouldn't be there. Solace wouldn't come from there. He needed to find a way to apologize, and to apologize well, or Lalli would surely hate him forever.

The door opened, and Lalli walked in, a large serving of cookies in hand. He sat on the bed, plate balanced on one pointy knee, and started eating. Emil stared at him, bewildered. Here he was, trying not to feel like his heart was ripped out of his chest, and Lalli was just munching on his cookies like he didn't have a care in the world, like nothing had happened ! How could he ! Damn bloody Finn !

Lalli must have sensed Emil's eyes on him, because he suddenly turned towards him.

- What ?

Emil scrambled to find something to say something that Lalli would get.

- Last night... he started.

And stopped, because what could you add to that ? "Why did you decide to sleep in my bed and also cuddle with me like some kind of very big cat, and also I liked that because I've just realized I like you and it felt very good" ? First, he didn't know how to say that in Finnish, he had barely reached "good night", and Lalli's Swedish was only a smidge better. Second, because he wasn't sure this wouldn't get him on the business end of Lalli's knife. Or worse, rifle. In fact, he didn't know which option he prefered, because Lalli was deadly with both.

- What ? Lalli repeated, in the same tone.

He was expecting an answer, and probably wouldn't let him until he got it.

- Last night, Emil tried again. You.... angry ?

Lalli stared at him for a few seconds.

- No, he finally answered with a frown. Tired. Not angry.

- No, no, I mean... You know... the...

The words were evading him, so Emil made a tentative gesture of hugging someone. Lalli kept staring, in the same way he did that first time on the train, the one that made Emil shiver, head tilted on the side like a curious cat.

- No, he suddenly said.

And he went back to eat his cookies, while Emil wondered if one could die of a mix of embarrasment, anger and frustration. He certainly felt like it. But still, he refrained from screaming, pushing Lalli on the floor or grab the pillow and deck him on the head. That would certainly get him punched or worse.

- You didn't ? I mean... you're not... angry ? with ?

- No.

It was a little louder, and Emil got the message. With a sigh, he moved against the headboard and leaned his head against it, closing his eyes. Good, Lalli wasn't angry against him. And still, he couldn't help but feel a little... disappointed ? Because Lalli hadn't mentionned anything about his reasons, or would he do it again, or... anything, really. And certainly nothing about doing it again sometimes. And it would have been a lie to say that it didn't hurt a little to see him so... aloof again, like it didn't hold any meaning for him.

The mattress moved, and he opened his eyes, expecting Lalli to have grown tired of his silence and apparent moodiness and left. Instead, the Finn had come to sit beside him, the now half-empty plate still on his lap. They were so close that their shoulders were touching, and their legs pressed together, lightning each and every nerve of Emil's on fire. He didn't dare looking in Lalli's direction, didn't even dare breathing, less the moment be broken. Twenty-four hours ago, he was considering being able to have a conversation with Lalli the biggest step in their friendship. But in the last eight hours, Lalli had come in close contact with him, willingly, not once, but twice, and had told him he wasn't angry at being held through the night. From him, that was a great leap, and Emil tried very hard not to dwell on it too much, lest his heart start running way too fast again. He tried to focus on something, anything, how many explosives he should buy later, and how Reynir's hair was still a mess, everything to forget their closeness, but every thought was shattered each time Lalli moved and his leg brushed against his, turning his brain into mush.

Emil suddenly realized that Lalli seemed to be inching towards him. While two minutes ago, their knees and shoulders were barely touching, Lalli's hip was now against his, pointy as ever, digging into his own luckily protected by the waistband of his pants. And he didn't seem bothered by it. Granted, he still had a plate of cookies to distract him from the issue, but still. Emil knew him enough to know that food wouldn't be enough if he was really upset or uncomfortable.

On a whim, he unstuck his arm from between them, and carefully slid it behind Lalli. The Finn glanced at him, but otherwise didn't move. Fine. So far. Now, the most difficult part. Slowly, Emil lowered his hand, put it around Lalli's shoulder. This time, the chewing stopped.

- Does it... can I ? Okay ? Emil quickly asked. I should have asked before but... I... okay ?

There was an uncomfortable silence, long enough for Emil to start regretting everything he ever did wrong in his life, which seemed like a lot. He wanted to take his hand away, but maybe it would have been worse. Lalli was now looking at him, and there was something in his eyes (weird, unreadable, beautiful) that made Emil want to run away, or maybe stay where he was forever. But finally, Lalli broke the spell.

- Okay, he simply said.

It was just a word, but one that set Emil's heart to fly. He could feel his face break into the widest grin. Lalli didn't comment on anything, but he held out the plate, offering him one of the remaining cookies. Emil took it and munched happily on it. He didn't know exactly why Lalli did agree to that, why he was now standing so close to him, and there was still the why of his presence this night. All those points were starting to trace a pattern pointing in a satisfying direction, but he didn't want to think too much about it. Just staying like this was enough for him, and for Lalli too, he hoped. Maybe he could ask him later, when they both shared the dreamscape again. But for now, this was enough. And maybe, the next night, Lalli would come and steal his bed again. Emil was certainly looking up to that.

#stand still stay silent #emil vasterström #lalli hotakainen #emilalli #poor emil will never get his bed #but I don't think he'll mind #first time writing them #they are so fun #I love them

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brain-deadx0 · 4 years

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The Lost Prince ch.3

Summary: The kingdom of Elan had once been at peace. It’s said that so long as the royal family lived the land would flourish with them on the throne. But when an unexpected enemy appeared and took the lives of the royal family many stopped believing in the legend. It was simply a ploy by a former ruler to discourage a coup. But some say that the new king sparred the young prince out of fear of the myth, and that one day the true heir would once again take the throne.

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER SUMMARY: They have a plan... it may have been a bad plan.

WARNINGS: imprisonment, forcing someone to perform demeaning acts, injury of a main character, blood, let me know if there’s anything else

As the sun began to set Virgil and Janus huddled together away from the door. As much as they appreciated the open door earlier, while looking at the flora and fauna, it was now letting in the cool evening breeze. Neither dared speak aloud outside of the safety of their room which only made ignoring their growling stomachs harder.

They hadn’t eaten since the night before and they couldn’t exactly bring along the small food stash they kept for emergencies. Virgil was actually starting to miss the stale bread when a pair of robins suddenly flew through the door.

The birds each held a small branch covered in berries as they landed in front of him and Janus. Virgil slowly held his hand out and one of the robins hopped towards him to drop the berries in his palm. Janus did the same with the other bird. The two young men nodded in thanks before the two robins flew away again.

“Didn’t know they did that.” Janus murmured before eating one of the berries.

“Unless one of them could get us the keys I don’t think we’ve needed them to anyway.”

The berries hadn’t been near enough to fill the two up, but it did help to quiet their stomachs. It took some time but eventually the two were able to doze off.

King Saul flipped though the pages of the old book while he waited for the servant to get there and translate. He couldn’t read whatever language it was written in, but the illustrations provided some clues. Most of it seemed to have something to do with the royal family and fae.

“Your Majesty, the servant is here to translate.” He heard someone call from outside his tent.

“Send him in then.”

A few moments later the servant walked through the door. “Your Majesty,” he bowed.

”Here,” King Saul said as he passed over the book, “now tell me what I need to know.”

“Of course, your Majesty.”

The servant flipped to the right page and began to translate, “If a time may come when their majesties are unable to have a child of their own volition or-“

“I don’t care for those parts. Just tell me the steps and what we need.”

“Yes, Sir.” The servant said before starting again, “The current head of the family and intended heir must share blood... Any amount will do... They then must join hands at sunset... The family head must willingly pass the bond... And both must say the spell.” He summarized.

“So we prick fingers, hold hands, and say a spell. Sounds easy enough.” King Saul mused, “And the spell?”

“I believe it’s “pactum sanguis densior sit quam ex utero sumus participes per familia necessitudines ita et in terra” your Majesty.”

“If that’s all then you may leave.” King Saul told him as he took the book back.

The servant bowed once more before exiting the kings tent. King Saul managed to locate the words of the spell and proceeded to write them down.

‘Perhaps,’ He thought to himself, ‘if the false king were not so self centered he might have realized the differences between me and the man who had originally delivered the book.’

...

By the time the sun rose on the second day, Virgil and Janus were wide awake. When the soldiers not standing guard had started waking up it was hard to ignore. Especially when they started to cook breakfast.

“Bastards...” Janus mumbled, earning a small smile from Virgil, “They could’ve at least done it down wind.”

“Some people aren’t very considerate I’m afraid.” A voice told them.

Both young men jumped and instinctively tried to move away from whoever had spoken.

“Oops, didn’t mean to startle you.” A somewhat willowy man in servants clothing told them.

Janus and Virgil shared a cautious glance at each other as the man reached into the satchel at his side before revealing a small loaf of bread. “Here,” He said as he held it out to them, “you’re probably feeling half starved by now.”

The two shared another look before Janus slowly reached forward to take the bread, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” He told them before whispering, “your Majesty.” He winked.

“... Who are you?” Janus asked cautiously.

“You can call me Emile.” He smiled, “And you two have more people on your side than you think.”

”What?” Virgil asked.

Emile’s only response was a finger to his lips and a wink before turning and walking away.

“Well,” Janus started, “that was...”

“Weird.” Virgil finished, “That was definitely weird, right?”

Janus nodded, “Probably.”

The two of them were wary of the bread at first, but whatever fears they may have had were gone after the first bite. They silently decided the taste was because they hadn’t had fresh bread in years. But neither could remember even the freshest bread tasting so sweet.

Neither mentioned it but both felt full and surprisingly invigorated despite the small amount of food.

...

Within a few hours the camp was packed up, the wagon door was closed, and the group was on the move once again.

The weather wasn’t unpleasant and they even seemed to be making good time. That is until a loud thudding sound broke the silence.

Virgil and Janus had let themselves relax as their minds wandered with the shifting of the wagon. It wasn’t until they were suddenly flung into one corner that they realized something had happened.

“Ah what the fuck?” Virgil hissed.

“Sorry,” Janus told him as he attempted to pull himself away, “You alright?”

“Yeah, you?”

“I’m fine. My landing was a bit softer than yours.”

“Oh ha ha.” Virgil deadpanned.

“What’s going on?!” Saul boomed from somewhere ahead of the wagon, “Why are we stopped?!”

“My apologies, your Majesty, but a wheel has fallen off of the prisoners wagon. It doesn’t appear to be damaged, but we’ll have to stop for a while to fix it.” Someone standing nearby said.

“Well hurry up then!”

Janus and Virgil barely managed to get themselves upright by the time the door was opened. “Don’t get any ideas.” The soldier said as he unlocked the metal door.

“Come on we don’t have all day.” He grumbled when the two hesitated.

They shared a somewhat baffled look before Virgil moved to leave the wagon. His feet had barely touched the ground before he was grabbed by the collar and flung to the side, “Hurry up.” The man spat.

“Virgil!” Janus called when his friend hit the ground.

“I’m good.” He told him as he moved to stand up again. He was halfway up when a different soldier appeared next to him and pulled him to his feet. “The ground isn’t nearly as hard as the floor.” Virgil said when Janus joined him. Janus gave a sad smile in agreement.

While several people worked to put the wheel back, Virgil and Janus took the opportunity to soak in the feeling of the ground beneath their feet. It was so soft! And squishy! Even their bed mat was nothing compared to how comfortable the ground felt.

The soldiers were nearly done when the King road over to them on a large grey stallion. “How much longer?” He asked them.

“Almost done, your Majesty. It should be ready in just a minute.” One of them answered.

Saul nodded before turning his attention to Janus and Virgil.

Janus hated the way he looked at them. Normally it was somewhere between happy that he had taken over the kingdom and pissed that he and Virgil still existed. But now there was a bit of greed there too. By some miracle it managed to make Janus hate him more.

Virgil wished he could wipe that smug look off of Saul’s face. Preferably with a chair. But unfortunately he was not that brave and not that stupid. Also he was severely lacking in the chair department at the moment.

“The wagon is fixed, your Majesty. We are ready to continue when you are.” One of the soldiers informed.

“Good. Throw these two back in and let’s move on.” The king ordered as he turned his horse.

“Wait!” Janus said before Saul could leave.

The King paused to look at him but didn’t respond.

“Please, before we go any farther let Virgil go.”

Saul smirked, “Why would I do that?”

“Please,” Janus begged, “you don’t need him. Let him go, and let him live. I promise I will transfer the magic.”

“Why should I believe that? Besides, that scullery rat is good collateral. Why would I risk letting him go while he’s still useful?”

“I swear I will do whatever you ask. Just let him go free. Please.”

Virgil was sure Saul wasn’t actually considering letting him go. There was nothing to gain after all. He just wanted to toy with Janus. As soon as he started getting bored he’d laugh in their faces and they’d be back in the damn wagon.

Honestly he wasn’t sure whether or not to be relieved by that. On one hand he couldn’t escape, but that meant he wouldn’t have to leave Janus.

Virgil was startled out of his thoughts when Saul dismounted and walked over to them.

“Prove it.”

Janus blinked. What?

“Kneel.” Saul told him.

Janus spared a glance at Virgil who shook his head.

Despite his friends opposition Janus took a breath and dropped to one knee before bowing his head. “Please, your Majesty.” He tried again, “Let him go.”

The King’s lips curled into a cruel grin, “Kiss my boot.” He told him.

“Janus no!”

“Silence!” Saul commanded.

“Janus, don’t. Please.” Virgil begged him.

Janus closed his eyes. He hated him. God he hated Saul. He could live forever and never hate anyone more. But his love for Virgil was worth more than that hate. And his life was worth more than Janus’s own pride.

“Please, your Majesty,” he forced as he shifted to both knees.

“Janus...”

“Let my friend go free.”

Virgil couldn’t bring himself to watch. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. But that didn’t prevent the hushed laughter of the soldiers from reaching his ears.

“Someone grab a rope.” Saul ordered, “I believe we may be able to work something out.”

Virgil tried to ignore everyone and everything around him as he opened his eyes. He kneeled next to Janus and tentatively reached to grab his arm. Janus didn’t look at him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. We would’ve been ok.” Virgil choked before pulling him closer in a poor excuse for a hug.

“Just make it.” Janus told him as he attempted to hug back, “Go find that useless knight of ours and don’t look back. Please, Virgil.”

Virgil clung to him tighter, “I can’t just leave you like that.”

“You can and you will.” Janus told him, “Promise me, Virge.”

He wanted to promise. He did. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t make that promise. He would stick to his plan and follow them. He couldn’t leave Janus behind. Not after everything.

“Please.” Janus begged.

But before Virgil even had a chance to reconsider he was pulled back by his hair. He attempted to cling to Janus, but was ripped away as if he hadn’t been holding on at all.

“Remove his chains and then tie him to a tree.” Saul ordered.

“What? No! Let him go! Please!” Janus yelled, “I did as you asked!”

“You did,” he agreed, “and I’m releasing him. Perhaps we can come back to check on him once we complete our little errand at the Delego.”

Janus watched as Virgil attempted to fight back against the soldiers trying to tie him up. All of a sudden he was eight-years old again. Being held too tightly by a man twice his size while his best friend fought tooth and nail just for the infinitesimal chance of escape. And once again he was too scared and too useless to do anything but cry and scream at the bad people to let him go.

The second the chains were off Virgil started swinging. He couldn’t let them tie him up. He wouldn’t stand a chance of helping Janus if that happened. He thrashed against the hands and ropes trying to get some sort of opening. He could vaguely hear Janus screaming something as the soldiers continued to close in on him with the rope.

Virgil sensed more than felt himself fall to the ground. He had to fight harder! They were gonna win and then they would take Janus away and he would never see him again.

He couldn’t move his arms anymore. His legs flailed harder, trying in vain to somehow prevent the inevitable. His legs were stuck now. Something was behind him- Wait something is by his face. He hears what sounds like a scream and his mouth fills with blood.

“Motherfucker!” The soldier who had attempted to gag him yelled when Virgil sunk his teeth into their hand. They quickly pulled their hand back and turned it into a fist.

“NO!” Janus screeched when Virgil’s head lolled to the side, “Virgil!”

“Little bastard.” The soldier spit on him as they clutched their injured hand.

“Remember your promise,” Saul said as Janus was pulled to his feet, “and then maybe we can come back and untie him.”

“You lying son of a bitch.” Janus spat.

He felt a blinding pain as the back of Saul’s hand landed against his face.

“We’ve wasted enough time.” Saul announced, “Let’s get moving.”

“Virgil!” Janus yelled as he was dragged back towards the wagon, “I’ll come back for you! I promise!”

The door was slammed shut and the wagon began to move.

~~~~~~NOTES~~~~~~

Good news: Virgil is no longer in immediate danger. Bad news: He’s unconscious and tied to a tree... Also Janus is still in immediate danger.

Y’all. I SWEAR there is going to be happier chapters. But we gotta get some of the bad stuff out of the way first. Next chapter might have some nice stuff but yeah. Don’t hold your breath for fluff.

#The Lost Prince #ts Sides #Sanders Sides #ts Janus #ts Virgil #brain dead writes

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perspective-series · 5 years

Text

Kingdom Perspective (10)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, panic, kidnapping, keeping/treating people like pets, threats, and unwanted touching/grabbing

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

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“Ah, Roman.” Picani greeted the younger prince as he entered, Logan already sat in one of the chairs across the table. “Please, have a seat. There’s an important matter of which you should be informed.”

Roman looked at the two with a raised eyebrow but took his seat. Honestly, he was still thinking about his conversation with Virgil but he knew he had to focus on this. “And what would that be?”

“I’m going to be king.” Logan said, turning to his brother.

“...Yes, I know.” Roman looked to his brother in confusion. “This isn’t new information, we’ve known about this since birth.”

“No, what he means is, he’s going to be king now.” Picani sighed. “The coronation is at the end of the week.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “What?!” Roman exclaimed, all thoughts of Virgil clear from his mind for a moment. “B-But, I thought we still had a year left? What happened?” He turned to look at Emile.

“Father is out of control.” Logan shrugged.

“Yes, the current king has been deemed unfit to rule.” Picani admitted. “It’s a very delicate political climate right now and we need a leader who isn’t so much of a firecracker. Logan will be taking the throne and overseeing all future agreements in the coming weeks.”

“...Oh.” Roman said simply. It did make sense. Their father had had this coming for a while now. But he was still a bit salty over the fact that Logan was going to be king. “Well...congratulations, I suppose.”

“Thank you.” Logan received the praise in true smug brotherly fashion.

“Now, this does mean we’ll have to move up your schedule as well, Roman.” Picani placed his arms on the table, folding his hands. “You are now next in line for the throne, which means you will need to attend the same studies Logan has finished so that, should something happen to your brother, you are prepared to take his place.”

“Great.” Honestly, Roman was not looking forward to more studying. “And when will I be starting that?”

“Ideally today, but right now we are at our wits’ end preparing your brother.” Picani pushed up his spectacles. “So, your studies will begin after the coronation. That being said, I would like to go over some of the basic details should something happen within the next week.”

“With all due respect, is my presence here necessary?” Logan turned to Picani. “I don’t mean to rush, it’s just that I do need to get to lunch and I’m on quite a tight schedule.”

“No, by all means!” Picani quickly got up, opening the door for Logan with a bow. “Go right ahead, your highness.”

Logan gave him a nod, standing up. “Best of luck, Roman.”

“Thanks.” Roman said with a slight groan and prepared for what he assumed would be a long talk.

Logan walked out of the hall, back towards his chambers.

“Here you are, your highness.” A mousy girl waited outside of the door, bowing low and presenting a tray of sandwiches.

“Thank you.” Logan took it from her, heading inside. While wait staff had used to set these things inside his chambers for him, Logan had strictly forbidden any staff from entering his rooms since Patton arrived. This was due to a few instances involving curious maids and other surprises that had startled the human terribly.

“Hello, Patton.” Logan greeted, coming over to the desk. He cleared his papers, setting down the food before opening the cage and tapping the desk top.

Patton grinned when he saw Logan and practically ran over when Logan gave him the command. “Logan! How...How is everything?”

“Stressful.” Logan admitted, ripping off part of a sandwich and handing it to Patton. “It feels as though every action I make now has more weight to it. There’s so much pressure to do it right the first time, or else everyone will look down on me for my age.”

Patton frowned, taking the sandwich and biting into it. “I’m sure you’ll do great Logan.” Patton gave him a smile. “You have to stop worrying about what other people will think and just go with what you think is best.”

“Yes, I suppose.” Logan chewed his food thoughtfully, considering Patton’s point.

Patton nodded and took another bite before realizing what he needed to bring up again. “So...about Virgil…” Patton started, glancing up at Logan.

“What about Virgil?” Logan asked, the morning’s conversation having been driven from his mind by all his advisor’s lessons.

“I-I really think it’s fine if I keep seeing him.” Patton said, feeling nervous at Logan’s answer.

“Oh, right.” Logan rubbed at his forehead. “Well, I’m not sure if that is even going to be possible. With the way Roman’s and my responsibilities are changing we may not have much overlapping free time.”

Patton’s face fell. “You...You won’t be able to make a little time? Like for lunch or something?”

“At least not for the next few weeks.” Logan informed him. “First it’s the coronation, then it’s traveling to meet for the treaty, then it’s returning home to pick up the slack from the traveling time...honestly it’s such a mess.”

No, this wasn't good. He had to see Virgil again. He had gone so long without human interaction before but he couldn’t do it again. Not now that he remembered how it felt.

And...And Virgil was counting on him to relay the information he had learned. It, it might not help them escape but Patton had promised. What was he going to do?

“...I’ll try to arrange something by next month.” Logan caved, seeing Patton looking glum.

...A month. Well, Patton supposed it was...better than nothing. Patton smiled. “Thank you Logan.” He took another bit of his food. A month was still a long time though.

“Of course, that’s also dependent on how Virgil and Roman are doing.” Logan said thoughtfully. “Something tells me they have been arguing again. Roman seemed off when I saw him today.”

“O-Oh?” That...That didn’t sound good. What if Roman punished Virgil? Patton couldn’t handle the thought. He wanted to go check him but...Logan wouldn’t allow it. Not for another month.

“Yes, I think Virgil might be too stubborn for his own good.” Logan admitted. “Roman can get quite hot-headed when his buttons are pushed.”

And that sounded worse. Patton needed to check on Virgil, now. But that would mean...He looked up at Logan and swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He took a deep breath.

He could do this. For Virgil. “Um, Logan? Could I get some water?” He asked, noticing how the servant apparently hadn’t brought any with their meal.

“Oh yes, of course.” Logan said, noticing this as well. “Be right back.” He assured Patton, going out in the hall to catch a passing servant.

Patton took in a shaky breath as Logan left the room before jumping into action, knowing he didn’t have a lot of time. He went over to the edge and bit his lip at the drop below. But...If he jumped onto the chair first, then that just might work.

He didn’t have any other options, so he braced himself and jumped. He landed with a grunt on the chair but quickly stood up and going over to the edge again. The drop was more from here but maybe instead of jumping he could shimmy down the chair leg.

Patton decided to give it a try, getting into position and started to slide down carefully. He didn’t breath until he felt his feet on the ground. He smiled. Okay, so far so good.

It was at the moment Logan returned, water pitcher in hand. He shut the door behind him, coming over to the desk.

Patton eyes widened as he saw Logan approaching and quickly hid behind the table leg, shaking like a leaf. He was suddenly very much regretting this.

“...Patton?” Logan paused, not seeing the human where he had left him. He set the pitcher down cautiously, leaning over to look all around on the desk. “Patton, where are you?”

Patton felt himself freeze as Logan called his name. A large part of him wanted to reveal himself. To show Logan he was there but he couldn’t do that. He had gone too far already, if Logan found him, he’d be in so much trouble. Patton shivered just thinking about it.

Patton glanced over to the door and waited just a tad longer for his chance.

“Patton…” Logan began to shift the books around carefully, looking behind the stacks. “This isn’t funny.”

Logan felt himself beginning to panic the longer he couldn’t find the human. Had someone else come into the room while he was gone? He hadn’t been gone long...but he had been gone long enough.

“Patton, please.” Logan called out, gaze beginning to spread farther than the desk. “I need to know you’re okay, Pat.”

Patton tried his best to block Logan out but guilt spread through him anyway. But he couldn’t give into it. He had to go for it. For Virgil. Patton pushed off against the leg of the chair and ran to the door.

He almost slammed into it, he was going so fast but he quickly gained his bearing and looked for a way out.

It only took a second for Patton to realize there was no way out. There was no room underneath the door and no way for him to open the massive thing. He had never been able to escape. He was still trapped.

Logan shook his head, trying to stay focused. He couldn’t lose Patton. Logan was the one who took care of him, Patton depended on him. Patton was the one who listened and gave surprisingly great advice the way no one else could. Logan needed him more than anyone else in the world.

“Patton, come back.” Logan pleaded, looking underneath the desk now. If Patton was still in here, he couldn’t have gotten far.

Patton paused, turning around to see that Logan was looking away from him and underneath the desk. But the way he kept calling out to him was heartbreaking. Maybe...maybe if he showed himself he wouldn’t be punished as much? It wasn’t like there was a way for him to get out of the room anyway.

Unless he waited for Logan to leave the room again and then snuck past him. Patton bit his lip, feeling guilty just considering it. He was suddenly at a loss.

Logan looked around at floor level, trying to figure out where Patton would have gone and why he wouldn’t be answering. The bed? The closet? The...the door. Logan’s eyes widened, spotting the human from across the room.

Patton’s eyes widened when he realized it was too late. His decision had been made for him. He couldn’t help it as he cowered against the door, looking up at Logan with a mixture of fear and guilt.

“Patton…” Logan slowly got up, walking over to where the human stood. He crouched down, picking up Patton and examining him for injuries. A flood of relief washed over him when Patton looked relatively unharmed.

Patton shook in the grip and looked down. “I-I’m sorry…” He mumbled, fear overwhelming him.

“Patton’s it’s fine, I just…” Logan paused, sitting down on his bed. It wasn’t fine. This was the first time in over a year that Patton had ever, ever tried to run off. Surely after all this time Patton was happy here...right?

Patton wasn’t paying much attention to Logan’s words, instead putting in all his effort to apologize. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t...don’t…” A few tears escaped his eyes. This had been a terrible idea. Why did he have to do that, now he’s ruined everything.

“Patton, calm down.” Logan rubbed his arm with his thumb, trying to simultaneously calm Patton and get answers. “Why...why did you do it? Where were you going? What were you thinking?”

Patton was startled at the touch but ended up leaning into it. “I...I just wanted to see Virgil...make sure he was okay…” He sniffed, still not meeting Logan’s eyes.

“Virgil’s fine.” Logan insisted. “And if you were really this concerned you should have told me.”

“...You wouldn’t have listened…” Patton said quietly.

“Why do you think that?” Logan asked, desperate for answers.

“I don’t know, I just...I...I don’t…” Patton couldn’t even explain himself. “I-I don’t want to wait an entire month...p-probably longer until I can see Virgil again.” Patton managed out.

“Okay, fine, you can see Virgil again.” Logan offered. “We’ll figure something out. Just don’t…” Logan sighed. “Don’t scare me like that, Pat.”

Patton looked down. “...I’m sorry.” He said, once again.

“Patton…” Logan spoke hesitantly, but after Patton’s episode here he couldn’t let it go unasked. “Are you...happy here?”

Patton tensed. “Of-Of course!” He stuttered out. “I-I am happy, um, here.”

“Are you?” Logan pressed. “Or do you just say that because you think that’s what I want to hear?”

Patton lowered his head. “I...I don’t know…I don’t know anymore.”

“Patton, do you know you’re safe here?” Logan felt his heart breaking at Patton’s answers. “I’m not going to hurt you for speaking up or...or having an opinion.”

“Of course I know that!” Patton exclaimed but he said the next part quieter. “Y-your punishments have never been...you’ve never physically hurt me. I-and I do feel safe, with you.” Patton explained. He never feared that Logan would hurt him, not anymore.

“Patton.” Logan looked down at the human with a focused expression. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I need an honest answer.”

Patton inhaled sharply but nodded. “O-Okay.”

“If you were given the choice, would you want to go back?” Logan asked.

Patton’s eyes widened. “Back...Back to my world?” Patton bit his lip. He was...at a loss. Did he want to leave this place? Yes. Did he want to leave Logan? ...No, he didn’t. Logan had been with him throughout this whole thing. He knows Logan cares about him and he cares about Logan.

“I don’t want to leave you.” Patton said, voice barely above a whisper. What would Virgil say about that? He wondered briefly.

“That’s not what I asked.” Logan’s gaze became pitiful. He certainly shared Patton’s mindset, but he certainly didn’t want to be the reason Patton stayed trapped and miserable if he didn’t want to be here.

Patton deflated and he looked down. “...No.”

“You wouldn’t go back?” Logan clarified. “You’d stay here? And...you would be happy?”

Patton nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry that I tried to ‘escape’ but I just wanted to see Virgil again. I am happy here, with you.” Patton gave Logan a small smile.

“...okay.” Logan gave a sigh of relief. “Okay, I just had to be sure.” Logan held Patton close to his chest. “I need you to be happy. Even if that had meant you leaving.”

Patton snuggled closer into Logan’s chest. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew Virgil wouldn’t be happy about this. But at the moment, he didn’t care.

***

Honestly, Roman hadn’t been paying much attention when Picani had been talking. Which, he was sure Logan would be mad at and it would definitely come back to bite him later but he couldn’t stop thinking about what Virgil had told him.

And how Roman couldn’t deny things any longer.

With a sigh, he pushed his door open and immediately went to sit down at his desk, putting his head down his arms.

Virgil glanced over, noticing the way Roman was slumped over. “Uh, you okay?”

Roman sighed and blindly reached over to open the cage. He then looked up at the human. “Virgil, I’ve been going over what you said before I left and I have...realized a few things.” Roman revealed.

“You have?” Virgil raised his eyebrows slightly, Roman having certainly gained his interest as he walked closer.

“Yes. The first thing being I really do not want you to leave.” Roman sighed. He enjoyed Virgil’s company immensely after all.

“...oh.” Virgil slumped against the cage door. “So you learned nothing.”

Roman winced and sat up straight. “Wait, you haven’t let me finish!” Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have started off with that. Or, at the very least he shouldn’t have paused afterwords. “Yes, I don’t want you to leave but I...I also care about you. I care about your happiness and you very clearly aren’t happy here.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Virgil scoffed. “I’ve been saying that almost constantly.”

“Yes and I...should have listened more.” Roman sighed and looked away. “Which brings me to the most important point I’ve realized tonight.” Roman looked Virgil in the eye for this part.

“You are a person and I am...sorry, that I didn’t see that sooner.”

Virgil stared Roman down in disbelief. “What? It took you this long to realize that?”

“Yes, yes and I realize how bad that is. Honestly, I am truly ashamed.” Roman admitted. “And we took you from your home. I put myself in your shoes for a moment and...and that is absolutely terrible. It’s no wonder you’ve been acting like this this whole time. You had every right.”

“...thanks.” Virgil said honestly. It was hard, trying to stay himself when everyone around him kept trying to push him down and make him obedient. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

“I will do everything in my power to bring you home.” Roman promised. “...That being said, only the king has the authority to send you back, so not only do we have to wait for the coronation but we also have to convince Logan that this is the right thing to do.”

“Wait, what?” Virgil could hardly believe he might actually have a chance at going home. Of course...if his chance depended on Logan, it might be difficult. Maybe Patton could convince him. “When’s the coronation? Why do we have to convince Logan?”

“It’s in a couple of days. And, well, Logan might be easier to convince to let you go...but I assumed you wanted Pat out of here as well. And that...that might take a little more convincing.” Roman winced, wondering how hard that was going to be.

“Couple days? I thought it was like a year.” Virgil grinned, eager that his chance would come so soon. “This is perfect! You can convince your brother about me, and then we can just...sneak Patton out too, right? It can’t be that hard.”

“It...it might be harder than you think. If Logan found out that Patton was missing he would probably tear apart the whole castle for him. Not only that but we also have to get past Dee. And Dee doesn’t listen to anyone other than the king.” Roman had tried in the past to give him commands, but Dee would never have it. Only his father could and hopefully, now Logan.

“Okay...well, I convinced you. Finally.” Virgil muttered that last bit to himself. “I’m sure you, me and Patton would surely be enough to convince Logan.”

“We can only hope.” Roman said, running a hand through his hair. “In the meantime, we’re going to have to do a bit of waiting. I’m not even sure if we’ll have time to speak to Logan before the coronation, he’s just been so busy.”

“Well how are we going to convince him then?” Virgil pressed, not wanting his chance to slip away. “I mean, he must have some free time. He has to sleep, doesn’t he?”

“Try telling Logan that.” Roman deadpanned. “He stays up way too late as it is. But with this schedule, I think he’s only getting an hour or two.”

“An hour’s all we need.” Virgil insisted.

“Okay, I’ll try to set something up before the coronation but I’m just warning you that it may not happen. Okay?” Roman said, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, if it doesn’t happen then I’m definitely calling you a wuss.” Virgil explained. “Because it definitely can happen and I don’t want to put it off.”

“Right, of course.” Roman said, biting his lip. “In fact, we can go check right now? If you want?” Roman asked, already offering his hand to Virgil.

“Perfect.” Virgil smiled, glad to see Roman was cooperating. He stood there for a moment, contemplating the hand offered before him. Strange. That horrible, sinking feeling Virgil felt before when faced with this dilemma had been qualmed. Virgil was still terrified, of course, of all that power hidden within a person’s fingers...but Roman was helping him now. If they were truly on the same side, Virgil had to meet him halfway and put some trust into Roman as well.

Taking a small breath, Virgil climbed into Roman’s hand.

Roman smiled and started heading down the hall. “I also thought about what you said about Patton.” Roman said, looking down at Virgil in his hands. “...You really think he’s been brainwashed?”

“A little bit.” Virgil nodded. “I mean, I convinced him to go home, but he’s definitely adapted to all this to survive.”

Roman hummed. “But he will want to go back with you, right? It’s just, I don’t think he’s ever mentioned anything about going home before. Not even when Logan first got him.” Of course, Roman barely saw him but he was sure of it. Logan would have said something.

“Well, did you ask him?” Virgil gave Roman a look.

“Who? Logan or Patton?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow at the human.

“Well I meant Patton, but I guess both.” Virgil said after considering the giant’s question.

“Um, well, no.” Roman admitted. “But I guess we’ll find out.” Roman said coming to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it. “Logan?” He called out, walking into the room.

But Logan wasn’t there. “Weird, he usually locks the door if he isn’t in here…” Roman muttered.

Patton’s head snapped towards the door when it opened and his eyes widened when he saw Roman and… “Virgil!”

“Hey Patton!” Virgil waved, throwing Patton a smile.

Roman smiled and let Virgil off on the desk before reaching over and opening the cage for Patton. Patton immediately ran out to hug Virgil. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?” Patton asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Virgil returned the hug, appreciating the human contact. “We were looking for Logan actually though, where is he?”

“Oh, he had to go back to his duties. He’s becoming king sooner than he thought.” Patton exclaimed. Roman sighed.

“Of course. I told you Virgil.” Roman looked down at the human.

“Well that doesn’t mean we shouldn't try.” Virgil insisted. “We can just wait here until he comes back.”

“Uh...well, we’re going to be waiting a while then.” Patton said, biting his lip. “Like, well into the evening.”

Roman sighed. “Maybe we should just come back later.” Patton blinked and looked between the giant and the human.

“What are you guys doing here, anyway?” Patton asked.

“We need to convince Logan to let you go.” Virgil explained, taking up Patton’s hands. “Roman finally came to his senses. Now that Logan is going to be king, all we have to do is convince him and then we can both be sent home!”

Patton’s eyes widened and he stared down at both of their hands. He bit his lip. “Um...but...what if I don’t want to go back?” Patton asked, not meeting Virgil’s eyes.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?” Did that mean he had been right?

“Patton, you don’t mean that.” Virgil’s smile faded slightly. “C’mon, look at me. We were going back together, remember? You don’t need Logan, we’ve got each other.”

“I-I know but it’s just...I can’t just leave Logan. He’s….We care about each other too much.” Patton explained, only glancing up at Virgil’s face for a second before looking back down.

Roman winced at Patton’s words. Now that his eyes were opened to this whole thing he couldn’t believe he had ever wanted Virgil to turn out like Patton. This was just...sad.

“Logan doesn’t care about you.” Virgil’s grip on Patton’s hands tightened. “He’s just made you think that. If he really cared about you he wouldn’t keep you locked in a cage still. Logan doesn’t trust you, he just sees you as a cute obedient chihuahua.”

Patton started to shake. “That’s-That’s not true. You don’t know him like I do.”

“I don’t want to know him like you do.” Virgil shook his head. “I bet he seems real nice to you but that’s just because he hasn’t been ‘as bad’ as possible. Logan’s still kept you captive for over a year, he punishes you, trains you to do stupid tricks, and is the reason you were ripped away from Earth.”

Patton felt the need to defend Logan. “He hasn’t punished me in months! And he’s never hurt me and maybe I’m better here than on Earth! At least here I have someone who cares about me!” Patton shouted, tears rolling down his face.

Roman’s eyes widened and he was at a loss of what to do. He couldn’t really say anything about Logan on either end, since he wasn’t really there.

“Patton, I care about you.” Virgil insisted, looking at Patton pleadingly. “Logan doesn’t, and even if he did he’s just one person. No one else here cares, but on Earth lots of people will care about you. I’m sure of it.” Virgil wasn’t sure of most things, but he knew with such a positive personality Patton had to make friends easily. Or at the very least people would care about him sympathetically after learning his story (or a version of it).

Patton couldn’t meet Virgil’s eyes. “He...He does care about me. I don’t care what you say, he does.”

Roman sighed. “Look, I don’t mean to make things worse by saying this but I really do think that Logan cares about him. Is it really so hard to believe? I mean, I care about you. And, I mean, I care about Patton too.” He might not have known Patton that well but that didn’t matter to him.

“Roman, you’re biased.” Virgil waved him away, sending the giant a glare. “And you’re certainly not helping.”

Roman was about to say something else, when there was a knock on the door. “Um...Prince Roman? Are you in there?” Roman heard a servant say and he blinked.

“Oh, uh, yes! I am!” He called out before going to the door and opening it to see the serving girl.

“Picani asked me to inform you that you need to get started on your duties.” The servant said and Roman sighed.

“Right, of course. Uh…” He turned back to look at the humans. “Tell them I will be right there.” The girl nodded and walked away. Roman closed the door and went over to the humans.

“Okay, so I gotta get going.” Roman bit his lip and looked down at Virgil. “Virgil? What are you thinking? Do you want to come with me or…?”

“I’ll stay here.” Virgil answered, keeping his eyes on Patton. Even if he couldn’t convince Patton, at least he could keep his fellow human company. It was certainly more appealing than sitting in a cage alone.

Patton was happy that Virgil would stay with him, despite everything he was saying. It would be nice to actually have some company. Especially with Logan being gone for so long nowadays. Knowing what was to come, Patton was already going back in the cage.

Roman paused for a moment to watch Patton do this. He frowned. Not too long ago he wanted Virgil to do that. But now...now it gave Roman this guilty feeling that he didn’t like. He looked down at Virgil. “...You won’t try anything if I don’t lock you guys in the cage, right?”

Virgil took a moment to truly consider it. Of course, it’d be an ideal time to escape, especially since Patton would be right here with him. But Roman was right, without magic Virgil wouldn’t be getting home on his own. Maybe it would be best to lay low and cooperate, wait to see if this plan worked out.

“No.” Virgil assured him, taking a step further from the entrance of the cage. He certainly didn’t want to be locked in a cage in a less familiar giant’s room. “But I certainly will try something if you do try and lock me up.”

Roman smirked. “Of course. Alright then, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Hopefully before Logan. Before he could dwell on it, he headed out.

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #giants #human!virgil #human!patton #giant!logan #giant!roman #platonic #kingdom perspective #part 10

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austinsirkin · 4 years

Text

A Lesson in Applied Mathematics

Hello, Christopher Sawyer.

Chris sat bolt upright in bed, fumbling at his side table for his glasses, and then casting his panicked gaze frantically around the room. His night light shone a warm, yellow glow on the dirty clothes scattered across the hardwood floor and the inoffensively gray walls covered in posters of Billie Eilish and MGMT. But he was all alone. He’d been on the verge of sleep, so maybe he just…

Excuse me, Christopher, I apologize for bothering you. Is this a bad time?

Chris jumped up onto his feet this time and looked under his bed: nothing. He tiptoed to his closet next, cursing the wood squeaking beneath his little feet, and pulled open the door: again, nothing.

“H… Hello?” he finally asked aloud, his enormous whisper ringing out in the quiet room.

Yes, I’m here. Are you able to do me a small favor?

Now that his wits were more about him, the voice sounded like it was coming from everywhere, but also nowhere. Maybe it wasn’t even sound at all.

“W-who are you?” he asked, tentatively. “Where are you?”

My name is Emily, and I’m… Well, I’m far away from you. I was hoping you might help me.

“Are you a ghost?” he asked. He licked his suddenly dry lips. “Or a... monster?”

There was a short pause before the voice returned.

No, no, don’t worry. I’m alive, and I don’t mean you any harm.

Chris narrowed his eyes. “You know this is sus one hundred, right? Are you going to kidnap me or something?”

Definitely not, I promise. You don’t even have to leave your house. One quick favor, and then I promise you’ll never hear from me again.

“That’s exactly what a kidnapper would say!” Chris declared.

Have you ever met a kidnapper? “Ummm… no.” Then how do you know what they would say? “Everyone knows. They’re all over the internet.”

Of course. The internet knows everything.

“I’m 11, but I’m not an idiot,” Chris declared. “I can tell that you’re making fun of me, you know.” My sincere apologies. I do have to admit that a kidnapper would be unlikely to admit their intentions. They would probably say something like, “I’ll give you a ride home”, or “I have candy in my van”.

“How do you know? Have you ever met a kidnapper?” Chris asked, mimicking Emily’s aloof tone.

...Not in person, no. “Hah!” he declared, triumphantly.

Okay, you got me. Neither of us know any kidnappers. But that means that because I know myself, and I must not be a kidnapper.

Chris pursed his lips and folded his arms across his chest. After a moment, he blew exasperated air out of his nose. ”Fine. I guess… I guess you’re right.”

Excellent. Now, Christopher, I was wondering if you might do me a small favor.

“Chris,” he said.

I’m sorry?

“My name is Chris. People only call me Christopher when I’m in trouble. If I help you, I won’t get in trouble, right?”

Of course, my apologies again, Chris. No, you’re not in trouble, and I promise that if you help me, you won’t get in any trouble. I just need you to read a book downstairs for me.

“You want me to read a book? Ugh.”

You don’t like reading books?

“No way. They’re too long. I get bored.”

I used to love reading books. Perhaps you’ll like them when you’re older.

“How old are you? I bet you’re super old.”

I’m 34 years old.

“Yikes, I was right, you’re old as dirt. What are you doing talking to a kid in the middle of the night?”

Is 11 pm too late? I don’t have any children, so I’m not really sure what time kids go to bed.

“Yeah it’s late! I was almost asleep and you legit scared me out of bed.”

That wasn’t my intention. I just needed some information from a book that’s downstairs in your house. There are no other copies, and your parents are currently asleep, so I couldn’t ask them.

“Normal people just wait for the next day.”

Do I seem like a normal person to you? “I... guess not,” Chris said, grudgingly. “Fine, where’s this book?”

It’s in your mom’s office.

Chris sighed loudly and exaggeratedly. “Alright. Hold on.”

He slipped his feet into his Adidas sandals, stuffed his phone into his pocket, and opened the door to his bedroom. The hallway was dark, but he knew his house like the back of his hand; he’d lived here since he was born. Navigating downward by feel as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he put out his hands to touch familiar landmarks: his door frame, the banister for the stairs, followed by the cool stone entryway at the bottom of the stairs. His parents’ bedroom was upstairs, so once he got downstairs he flipped the lights on without fear of waking them.

Blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted, he sighed and turned the corner to his mother’s office. The room was full of books, framed certificates, and small engraved things that bore her name that were probably awards; old people liked to get things with their name on them. Chris closed the door behind him as he entered.

“Hey, I’m here,” he said, unintentionally whispering.

Chris waited a few long seconds, but there was no reply. A few more seconds went by, and Chris tapped the toe of his right sandal on the ground, settling his foot deeper into the shoe.

“Emil-?”

I’m here, Chris. My apologies, I’m doing… many things at once.

“Weird flex, but go off,” he said.

The sound of a dry chuckle moved through his head. Okay, I suppose I deserved that. Now, the book I need is in the form of a stack of papers on your mother’s desk.

Chris climbed up into his mother’s chair, sitting on his feet, and surveyed his mother’s desk. It was officially the most boring desk ever. Her laptop was there, but the desk was also absolutely covered in books and papers. On the left was a stack of loose, unbound papers nearly three inches thick. The top page was full of small rows of text, the margins of which were thoroughly covered in handwritten notes.

“I can’t read this,” Chris complained. “I’ve never heard of half these words before, and even the sentences have sentences!”

Don’t worry, Chris, I’ll help you get through it. You’re really only looking for a specific formula, so we can just skim until we find it.

“A formula? Like a recipe?” he asked.

Of a sort, except this recipe is for math.

“Math is okay. I’m learning how to multiply fractions now, and I don’t like it.”

I understand. Math can feel very cumbersome, but it’s also very beautiful and elegant once you get beyond rote memorization and you begin to understand not just what the formulas are, but why the formulas are.

“Why the formulas are what?”

Why they exist. Why the letters are where they are, and what it all means.

“You mean like algebra, where you solve for x? Why do I have to do that? What does it mean?”

Another dry laugh. I wish I could answer that question for you, Chris, I really do. But picture math as a ladder. In order to see what’s at the top, you have to climb all the rungs first. Right now, even if it doesn’t feel like it, you’re still near the bottom of the ladder, and it will take time and effort to climb higher.

“Like in college? Is that when I’ll get to the top of the ladder?”

Maybe, but in this case, the ladder doesn’t really have a top, so you can keep climbing forever. The higher you are, the more you can see. You can even build extra rungs onto the top as you go so that you can see farther than any person ever has. That’s what your mom has done, and why I need you to read this book.

Chris furrowed his brow. “My mom… can see farther than anyone?”

When it comes to her specialty, she really can. She’s kind of amazing.

Chris furrowed his brow even deeper and he wrinkled his nose, too. “That’s weird.”

Why is that weird?

“It just is,” Chris said, shaking his head. “Look, do you want this formula thing or not?”

Alright, let’s look for it. Take a peek at the book and see if there are chapter titles. If so, read them to me. It doesn’t matter if you understand what the words mean or not, just do your best.

“If you say so,” Chris said, shrugging. He picked up the first page and looked at it. It had a chapter heading that said ‘Introduction’.

Perfect, the introduction. Now you can skip through the pages and only read the other chapter titles.

“How do you know it says ‘introduction’? I didn’t even read it yet,” Chris protested.

I’m communicating with you telepathically, so there’s no need for you to read it out loud. As soon as you look at it, I can see it, too. You don’t have to talk to me out loud, either, if you don’t want, though most people find it more comfortable. Directing your thoughts without speaking them aloud takes some practice, trust me; otherwise it’s just a jumbled stream of consciousness.

“You’re even weirder than my mom,” Chris complained.

You have no idea. Your mom isn’t weird at all. She’s exceptional. But yes, I’m very weird.

“I knew it,” he said, with a hint of smugness. “Okay, here goes. I’m going to read these chapters for you. You better be ready, because I won’t do it twice.”

Chris picked up the next page and flipped it over. Then the next. And the next. That was when he began to realize just how many pages there were in a three-inch stack of paper, so he picked up the whole stack and began flipping through them with his thumb. It was big and awkward in his hands, but he did his best.The chapter titles, bolded at the tops of the pages, were full of words that he’d never seen before and didn’t understand like “vectors” and “metaphysical implications”, but he sounded them out in his head as he went and Emily didn’t correct him. About three-quarters of the way through the stack of papers, Emily finally spoke up.

This is it, Chris! This is the chapter I need. Now, if you could go through each page and look for any math, that would be great. You don’t have to read the words at all.

“I’ve never heard of anyone ever in the history of the world who needed to learn math this badly.”

You’d be surprised. Mathematicians take their work very seriously, and I doubt I’m the first one to make a late-night call over a formula.

“Are you a mathematician, too?”

Not exactly. You can think of me more like an engineer. Your mom is a mathematician, so she does mostly theoretical work. What I’m doing is using applied mathematics for practical work.

“Hmmm,” Chris said, chewing his bottom lip. “I… think I get it. My mom makes the math, and you use the math.”

Exactly! You’re very clever, Chris.

“....Thanks,” Chris said after a moment, his cheeks tinted with red. “Anyway, let’s find this thing you need so bad.”

Moving his finger across the pages, he looked for things that might be math instead of words, and he found them in abundance. There were equations everywhere, not just in the printed text, but also handwritten in the margins. Some parts were crossed out and overwritten, too. Chris shook his head.

“How does anyone make any sense of this?”

It’s not easy, that’s for sure.

“It’s hard for you, too?”

Of course. Your mom is way smarter than I am.

“Ugh, stop saying things like that! It’s too weird. Mom is just…. Mom.”

Maybe someday you’ll feel differently. It can be tough to think of your parents as real people, but it’ll happen eventually.

“If you say so,” Chris said, shaking his head. He went back to skimming the pages, again using his finger as a guide so he didn’t lose his place. A few pages later, Emily stopped him again.

Yes! This is it! My god, your mother is a total genius.

“I said-” Chris began, irritably.

I know, I know, I’m sorry. Hold on just a moment, I need to make some adjustments based on this formula.

“Alright. Does that mean I can go back upstairs now?” he asked.

There was no response. Chris sighed, took out his phone, and began watching videos on Tiktok. There was no sense going back upstairs if Emily was going to make him come back down again, so he sat and watched videos of people doing the cell phone challenge.

After a few minutes, he switched from Tiktok to Twitter and was surprised to discover that there were tons of tweets trending about an #earthquake in California. And Nevada, and Arizona. He read a few tweets about it, and then saw that there were a bunch of new tags starting to trend: people were using #blackout, #darkness, and #whereisthesun. It was right around sunset over there, and people in cities all over the southwest were reporting that the sky had gone dark. No stars, no sun, just... dark.

Then came the pictures.

From Oregon and Mexico, people began posting pictures of an enormous thing on top of most of California. The first few pictures were denounced as photoshops, but more and more kept getting posted. Videos, too.

The thing was so huge that it was nearly impossible to take in all at once due to the curvature of the earth and the sheer height of the thing; it dwarfed the highest mountains like the highest mountains dwarf humans. Plus, it was sunset so the sunlight was getting filtered through the atmosphere, making it hard to see clearly. To Chris’s eyes, it looked like a mottled brown and gray, but some people were arguing on the internet that it was red and white.

The online world was on fire with speculation, with suggestions of everything from aliens to rock eruptions to some sort of weapon.

Ten minutes had passed since the thing first appeared and, engrossed in his phone, it never even occurred to Chris to wake up his parents. That was when Emily startled him again.

I seem to have caused a bit of a stir. Emily’s words held the barest suggestion of a sigh. That was my mistake; I seem to have misread your mother’s handwriting and thought a G was a C. Anyone could have made that mistake, really; C would make way more sense, given the context.

“Hey! You scared me. And I have no idea what you’re saying,” Chris said, distractedly. “Have you seen the thing in California? What’s up with that?”

Ah. Well, there’s no real delicate way to say this, so. Um. I am the “thing” currently above California, and parts of Nevada and Arizona. I didn’t intend to make quite a… scene. But with the mistake I made in the formula, I ended up in the wrong place. This is actually something of a best-case scenario, all things considered.

“Now I really have no idea what you’re saying.”

A sigh caressed Chris’s brain. The thing that you’re seeing pictures of? That’s me.

“That doesn’t make any sense. You’re a 34-year-old girl named Emily and a weirdo, not some big mountain thing. I hate when adults try to talk to me like I’m stupid. You’re the stupid one,” Chris said retorted, more venomously than he intended..

You asked me earlier if I was a monster, and I said no. But that wasn’t strictly… true. It’s hard to explain. But I understand if you’re angry. The thing everyone is looking at -- me -- isn’t an alien, and it’s not a weapon. It’s a woman named Emily, who is 34 years old, and who is also probably the biggest crab in the universe. And I don’t mean that metaphorically, like I can be crabby sometimes. I mean that I am literally a megacrab. Six legs. Claws. Armored exoskeleton. Size of Texas.

Chris blinked a few times, then asked, “So.... What’s that like?”

You know what? It’s okay. I miss things about having a normal human body, like being able to… Well, nevermind. Maybe when you’re older. Overall, though, I’m pretty happy.

“You mean you can’t have sex?”

Christopher!

“What? It’s not like I don’t know about it.”

I’m going to leave that conversation to your parents. Meanwhile, I came back to say thank you, and goodbye. I did promise you that you wouldn’t hear from me again after this, after all.

“Wait, forever forever?” Chris asked, taken aback. “But what if I don’t want you to go... forever?”

I’m afraid there’s no choice. If I stayed here, I would disrupt the course of human history. The various world governments would fight over me. It wouldn’t be a good look, trust me. So I’m going away. That’s why I needed your mom’s book. Maybe I’ll come back some day, but not for a long time.

“Oh. If I didn’t read the book for you, would you have stayed?”

Oh, Chris, you’re a sweet boy. It would only have delayed me by a day or two, so don’t beat yourself up. I suggest that you keep our little talk tonight between us, too. If it gets out that we talked like this, I can’t promise that you’d be safe. Powerful people would try to target you in order to get to me. So this’ll be our secret, okay?

“Emily, you’re… You’re scaring me,” Chris said, his voice cracking a little.

I know, but it’s very important that you follow these directions. If you do, you’ll be okay, and everything will be fine. I’ll try to check up on you from time to time, too, okay?

Chris fought the lump in his throat and looked at the floor. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll miss you.”

Thank you, Chris. That means more to me than you know. It’s rare that a… creature… such as myself gets treated like a friend.

“You’re welcome, Emily. Have a… have a safe trip.”

One last dry laugh floated through his mind. Don’t worry about me, Chris. You just make sure you stay alive until I come back, okay?

“I promise,” he said, wiping his nose on his arm as he blinked away his tears.

Several long seconds passed.

“Emily?” he asked, with a note of helplessness.

There was no answer.

After a moment, he checked his phone again. Twitter was overrun with the news that the “thing” had disappeared entirely. It was night, so no one saw exactly where it went, or how. People were already posting about the whole thing being a hoax.

Chris put down his phone and sighed. He sat at his mom’s desk in silence for several minutes, and a few tears left lines down his face. Then, slowly and deliberately, he pulled out some blank pages from the desk and grabbed a pen. Methodically, he began copying down everything he could remember about his exchange with Emily.

About an hour later he put his pen down and looked up at the ceiling, his work done.

“If she won’t be back for a while…” he said to himself, “I guess I’d better learn some more math.”

After a pensive pause, he mused, “I wonder if Mom will teach me.”

He leaned back in the too-big chair and watched the ceiling fan spin, his thoughts whirling around inside his head at the speed of light.

Art by Zhen Fu Li https://www.deviantart.com/zhenfuli

#fiction #speculative fiction #math #mathematics #science fiction #crab

5 notes · View notes

callboxkat · 5 years

Text

Infinitesimal (part 29)

Author’s note: Thank you to those of you who have been patient!

Warnings: worry, exhaustion, illness mention, injury mention, talk of lying

Word count: 1932

Look for the masterpost in the notes!

...

“Did we really have to block off the doorway?” Patton asked as he and Virgil wove deeper into the tunnels. A human probably would have been completely blind in this space—Patton had heard that their night vision was terrible—and even though Patton could still see well enough to not walk into a wall, it was still really dark. He’d nearly forgotten how dark it always was in the walls. He was putting his trust in Virgil, keeping a couple fingers hooked in the string around his middle to help himself keep up more easily.

“Yes,” Virgil said. “You know that.”

“But….” It was Roman. And Logan. They’d let him go; why would they come after them now? Wouldn’t they assume that Patton was going as far away as possible?

Virgil stopped, and Patton barely kept himself from bumping into him. “Patton. You know that Roman was just trying to get you to stay, don’t you?” he said, turning around.

Patton frowned. “That’s… not true,” he said slowly. “At least… I don’t think so.”

“What? Why?”

Patton shifted. “Well, why would he let me go if he was trying to get me to stay? All he had to do was….” Patton stopped himself right there with a shudder, not wanting to continue that mental image any further.

“I don’t know, Pat. Humans are weird. It was probably just some weird mind game that failed, thankfully.” He adjusted his grip on one of his crutches. “Can you promise me you won’t go seeing them?”

Patton looked down at his feet.

“Patton?”

“Okay,” he sighed. “I promise.”

…

Patton and Virgil kept going. For the most part, they remained in near complete darkness. Once again, Patton silently thanked the fact that Virgil knew where he was going. Speaking of which….

“Where do you and Emile live?” Patton asked, rubbing at his eye. He wanted to know how far they were going.

“Fourth floor,” Virgil supplied. “In the middle of the building, at the base of the wall. It might take a bit, but we’ll get there.”

“Oh… and where are we now?”

Virgil glanced back, frowning, before looking ahead again. “You don’t know?”

Patton swallowed. “I, um… I wasn’t…. I just woke up in that cage. So, no.”

“Oh… right. Sorry. We’re on the second floor.”

Patton balked slightly. They were going up two whole floors? Patton had had enough trouble with the table leg—and that had been going downwards.

Virgil, clearly sensing Patton’s worry, put his hand on Patton’s back in a comforting fashion. “You’ll be okay. We don’t have to do it all at once. You got away. They don’t know where to find us. There’s no rush.” Virgil rubbed his back gently, then removed his hand.

Patton took a deep breath, nodding. Virgil was right.

They both continued on, but they had only gone a little farther when Virgil came to a stop, turning to look up into the dark. After a moment, he looked back to Patton. “What do you think? Are you good to climb now? Or do you want to take a break?” he asked. “Either’s fine,” he added quickly, before Patton could respond.

Patton, whose head was pounding, and who was perhaps also rather dizzy, fiddled with the bandages on his hands.

“Five minutes?” he asked meekly.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

They sat down together, Patton pressed against Virgil’s side. Patton reached over and unhooked the water pouch from where it rested against his hip. They each took a couple sips from it before Patton put it back.

“Feeling any better?” Virgil asked after a few minutes. Patton hesitantly nodded, a little worried that Virgil would use this as an invitation to get going again. But Virgil stayed put. After several more minutes of silence, Patton shifted to look up at his friend.

“Is Emile nice?” he asked.

“Yeah, Pat, he’s real nice,” Virgil confirmed softly. “He’s gonna love you.”

Patton closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back a yawn. “I hope so.”

“Well, I guess—I guess you should know that he might be mad. At me. You’ve got nothing to worry about, though—you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sorry,” Patton mumbled.

“It’s my own fault,” Virgil sighed. “Not yours.”

“Still.”

“Don’t worry. Just let me know when you’re ready, yeah? We’re just going partway up to start with.”

…

Patton’s break ended up being considerably longer than the five minutes he’d originally asked for; but to his relief, Virgil didn’t seem bothered by it. Soon enough, though, Patton sat up fully, stretching and mumbling to Virgil that he was ready. Or as ready as he was going to get, at least.

“You sure you’re good?” Virgil asked as he tied his crutches to his back. “It’s okay if you want to wait. I want to get you home in one piece, you know?”

There was no denying the spark of happiness in his chest at the fact that Virgil cared so much, but Patton assured him that he would be fine. Virgil had said that they weren’t going all the way up right away. He could do this. Probably.

They started the climb, using the wooden slats of the wall like a ladder. Virgil didn’t stray far from his side. They ended up going about halfway up before Patton had to stop. They got off and rested on a platform there—a wooden support within the wall.

“Sorry,” Patton mumbled, feeling guilty about how long this was taking.

“It’s okay,” Virgil assured for what was probably the two hundredth time.

“I’m just…” Patton yawned. “I’m tired.” And dizzy… and his head hurt… and his hands were sore.

“Well,” Virgil mused gently, sitting down at Patton’s side, “There’s no reason you can’t take a nap before we go on.”

“Won’t Emile wonder where you are?”

“He’s out. We ran out of food while he was sick. He’s up on the fifth floor getting more. He'll probably be back well before us, but….”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He left right before I did.”

“You know, Virgil… I don’t really like that you’re lying to him,” Patton couldn’t help but say.

There was a long pause after that. Patton’s heart beat faster as he wondered if he’d gone too far. But Virgil just sighed and shook his head, picking at a seam on his trousers.

“Well… guess you’re in luck, then, because whatever happens, that ends today.”

Patton fiddled with his bandages again.

“How are your hands?” Virgil asked, his attention drawn by the movement.

“They’re pretty handy,” Patton assured.

Virgil snorted. “Okay, yeah, sure, but I actually meant right now. Like, do they hurt?”

“Hm… just a tad. I think I’ll get to keep them.”

“That’s good news,” Virgil admitted, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

“Mhm,” Patton agreed, rubbing at his eye. He lay down on his side, his head pillowed on his arm, not bothering to remove the blanket bundle or pillow from his back. As he drifted off, he could feel Virgil loosening the bindings that held them in place.

…

Patton woke up some time later to find that Virgil had lain down beside him at some point, one arm loosely hooked over his side. He shifted, wondering how long he’d been asleep.

“Feeling better?” a voice murmured.

Patton nodded, reaching out and stretching.

“Want to get going soon?”

“Mhm.”

…

When they finally arrived at Virgil’s and Emile’s home, Patton trailed behind uncertainly. He’d been looking forward to this for weeks—in a broader sense, years, even—but he was also incredibly nervous. Virgil had said that Emile would probably be angry, which Patton didn’t like, even if that anger wouldn’t be directed at him. Plus, what if Virgil was wrong? What if Emile didn’t like him? What if he was turned away again?

Virgil stopped just outside the door to his and Emile’s home, glancing back at Patton, who was several steps behind.

“He’s not back yet,” he said. “We can just wait for him inside.”

Patton nodded agreeably, and the two of them entered the small house. It was pitch black inside, which did not surprise him.

“Hey, Pat? You might want to cover your eyes for a second.”

Patton blinked, but he did as Virgil suggested.

There was the sound of Virgil moving something, of something clicking into place, and then the world burst into light. Patton slowly lowered his hands, squinting in the unexpected brightness. His eyes adjusted within a few seconds, and he stared in awe.

“You have lights in the walls?” he breathed, looking around. A string of what looked like Christmas lights was strung partway up the wall of the little house, the lights on it illuminating the room. Patton could see where the wire continued on into the next room, too.

“We sure do,” Virgil confirmed, a touch of pride in his voice. “Our uncle used to live in a house with a human who was something called an ‘electrician’. He picked up some things.” Virgil smiled at him. “Let me show you around.”

…

Emile was as relieved as always when his home came into view. The lights were on, which meant that Virgil was home. That was good. He hadn’t been when Emile returned from his first trip—he took two, they were so low on supplies—and Emile was always worried when he got back and his brother wasn’t there.

Emile made his way inside, taking the heavy, overfull bag off of his shoulder and setting it down on the floor with a sigh of relief. He unclipped the water pouch from his leg and set that down too, happy to be free of both of their weight. He was getting his hook and string freed from around his bicep when he heard two quiet, distinctive taps. Virgil’s crutches.

Emile bent to set his hook and rope down on the floor, straightened back up, and turned around. Sure enough, there was Virgil, standing in the doorway that led into their shared bedroom. Emile paused, frowning. Virgil’s eyes were slightly too wide, his stance too stiff. Something was clearly wrong.

“…Virgil? What’s going on?”

…

Virgil swallowed. He’d been so happy to get Patton free, to finally get him home. But now that it was the moment of truth, the moment to come clean to Emile at last, he was undeniably anxious. Face to face with his brother, his words didn’t completely want to cooperate with him. “Um… there’s so-someone here,” he said haltingly. “That I want you to meet.”

Emile’s face went blank, staring at him in surprise.

“He’s a… he’s a friend. I met him a few weeks ago. He’s—he’s had a r-ough time,” Virgil stammered. “He was captured by humans, and... he’s sick. I only got him out this morning.”

Emile stood there for a moment in silence, not reacting. Briefly, Virgil wondered if he’d absorbed any of what he said, but then he spoke. “…He’s sick?”

“Y-yeah. He was with some—some stupid girl who didn’t take care of him, up until—'til a few weeks ago. After that the people in—in 2B had him.”

Emile’s jaw had set, his eyes hardened slightly. Virgil knew that he had realized what this meant, what Virgil had been doing. But because he was Emile, he was focused on the fact that there was someone here who needed help. The anger would come second.

“Where is he?”

Virgil turned to look back the way he’d come, into the bedroom. “Come on out,” he called.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #moxiety #emile picani #sanders sides fan fiction #fanfiction #ts fanfic #infinitesimal!sides #infinitesimal fic

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sandersdelinquents · 6 years

Note

How did Emile and Pat become part of the delinquents? They seem like they where once like Logan. Actually... Can we just get a fic on how they all became friends before Logan?

Someone who gets the reference

Focus: Patton and Emile, middle school

Warnings: bullying, fatphobic comments, slight mention of strict parents

–

There are certain things that Patton knows. He knows his moms love each other and they love him. He knows that ice cream tastes best at midnight when he’s given a sneaky spoonful from one of his moms. He knows that sometimes dogs get scared and then do scary things in return. He knows that people can be good, but that people can also be bad.

Learning that last lesson had been difficult yet easy to understand. It’s not that he didn’t think people could be mean, but it surprised him how mean people could be. He never thought before his size would be something worth teasing over, he never thought having a belly would be something to hide. He had always been stocky, a little taller and a little thicker than most his age. He didn’t think it would be something to be ashamed of, but some kids did and they made fun of him for it.

Insecurity grew like thorns and no matter how many times his parents assured him that big bellies are beautiful, it still hurt, and he still crossed his arms over his stomach whenever the subject of being ‘fat’ came up. He didn’t like being made fun of for being bigger. It’s just how he grew and he didn’t know how to change that. He liked eating and he liked what exercise he did do. His mom would say he’s too young to be worrying about things like diets or slim treatments. The kids at school would say otherwise.

Patton isn’t stupid. He can hear his mom’s whisper when they think he’s gone to sleep, talking about how his school is full of bad kids with parents who forgot how to raise a child. So Patton tries to be nice, giving them all the benefit of the doubt, that maybe their home lives are sad and they take it out on him. It’s hard to believe some days, especially when they pick on him, but he tries.

He’s not the only one some of the kids pick on. His eyes glance to Emile now, doodling in a notebook, and looking very uncomfortable as Brandon and his rude friends surround his desk.

“What are you drawing? It looks stupid,” Brandon says looking proud at getting his friends to laugh from the insult. Patton swallows a lump in his throat. He and Emile haven’t really talked, sure maybe for an assignment or a trade but they weren’t friends. Emile doesn’t have any friends. Patton knows that feeling well.

“It’s from a TV show,” Emile says softly, trying to be friendly. Emile had always been that weird kid, always spouting out random things that had no correlation to anything. Patton could see the way he would light up when he tried to explain something, a connection he made to a cartoon or something, only to watch as that light died as he was shut down and told to shut up. No one liked listening to Emile talk about cartoons, it was all he talked about. Patton wonders not for the first time if Emile does anything else.

“Some stupid cartoon? Cartoons are for babies,” Brandon continues, sneering down and ripping Emile’s notebook from his desk. Patton cringes as Emile whimpers, not doing anything to get his book back.

“What are these?” Jason asks with disgust, taking the book from Brandon and pointing to a page. Patton can’t see.

“It’s symbols from a show, where four nation of elements live together in harmony,” Emile says softly, twisting his shirt in his hands.

“Everything changed when the fire nation attacked,” Patton mumbles to himself. He’s seen a few episodes of that show when his moms allow him to have TV before dinner. He keeps looking at his desk, only looking up when he realizes the conversation he had been eavesdropping on has abruptly ended. He peeks up to see Emile staring at him with what Patton can only describe as stars in his eyes.

“Have you seen it?!” Emile jumps from his seat, not caring for Brandon or his friends. He slides into the open seat next to Patton and beams at him.

“I’ve- I’ve seen a few episodes but not! Not a lot!” Patton finds his words and a smile makes it’s way onto his face. Emile practically squeals.

“Have you seen the first one? Where he pops out of the ice ball like pew!” Emile mimics the noise and Patton can’t help but giggle and nod his head.

“I like when she was trying to control her powers and accidentally soaked her brother,” Patton says what he does remember of that episode, continuing to talk to Emile as much as he can regardless of who is listening and judging. He’s never talked this long to someone without being insulted. He lets Emile ramble and go on until class is started and Emile is back in his seat, bouncing happily and giving Patton a million watt smile whenever he gets the chance. Patton returns it full force.

“And have you seen the uncle? He’s so smart and kind and I think he’s my favorite,” Emile immediately latches onto him at the end of class, eager to keep talking about the cartoon. Patton doesn’t mind, he rather likes listening to Emile talk and talk, and he certainly doesn’t mind being latched on to. Literally, Emile grabbed his arm with both hands and would not let go unless he decided to gesture wildly. It feels kind of nice to be wanted around.

“Look at these losers,” However the happy feeling is short lived as they walk towards the cafeteria for lunch, fun ramblings cut off by a rude comment. Patton and Emile turn around to Brandon coming closer to them with an evil smile on his face. Whether he does it consciously or not, when Emile pulls and hides behind Patton, Patton stands a little taller.

“Talking about some stupid cartoon. Cartoons are stupid, and so are you,” He teases. Emile makes a pained noise, grip on Patton’s arm getting tighter. Patton looks down at him, the sad look on his face, and something snaps. Every time someone has picked on him, Patton has ducked his head, made himself smaller, waited for the teasing to end. He’s always tried to be nice, but right now seeing Emile on the verge of tears, Patton wants to be mean.

“Shut up Brandon!” Patton’s voice is loud, turning heads and even making a few people stop. He twists his face up in a glare as Brandon stares back at him, shocked and confused to Patton’s words.

“What did you just say?” Brandon asks, as if giving Patton the chance to change what he said. Patton puffs up, standing at his full height, which may not be much, but at least more than Brandon has. He pulls Emile farther behind him and offers him protection.

“I said! Shut! Up! You’re a jerk!” He screams. Pent up anger and hurt makes itself known. He’s so sick of being picked on, and he’s so sick of others being picked on. He can’t stand it any more.

“Stop teasing me and stop teasing my friend!” He continues to shout. Brandon tries to act tough, getting closer and ready to say something mean and stupid back, but Patton doesn’t let him. He uses his size to his advantage for once and pushes Brandon back, letting him stumble and fall to the ground.

“Hey!” Jason says as he helps Brandon to his feet but it doesn’t matter. Other kids are laughing at the sight and the group walks away having been on the receiving end of teasing. Patton nabs Emile’s hand and pulls him along, instead of going to lunch, he leads them to the school library.

It’s a small place, a couple winding shelves with bright colored books and funky chairs for people to sit in. The librarian greets them but Patton doesn’t stop and drags them both to the far corner of the room. No one stops them and no one goes looking for them. He drops to the corner, a small spot where two bookshelves don’t quiet meet, making space for kids to squeeze in and hide.

Emile cuddles in next to him without a word.

It takes a moment, the bell rings overheard signalling the start of an another class and lunch period officially starting, for Patton to break down. It starts with a sniff then he buries his head in his knees. He’s not sure why he’s crying but he’s feeling a lot. He feels a little better when he feels Emile lean on him comfortingly.

“I’m sorry,” Patton whimpers out, rubbing his eyes to dry his face. He’s not sure why he’s apologizing but he feels like he should. Emile doesn’t say anything. They sit in silence for a bit longer, cuddled up in the corner, letting Patton’s emotions calm down.

“Did you mean what you said? About us being friends?” Emile asks, wiggling so their arms are linked. Patton nods his head not wanting to talk just yet. He’s never had someone to talk to as much as Emile did. No one’s been that nice to him at school in a long time. Emile just shifts closer.

They stay there all throughout lunch period and walk to class until their paths diverge. Emile makes him pinky promise to meet him after class and Patton takes that oath seriously. He ignores the others kids when the whisper about what happened in the hallway and lets Brandon boast about how he’s not scared. He flinches though when Patton glares at him.

Patton holds Emile’s hand until his parents come to pick him up, barking at him to get in the car quick and then speeding off. Patton twists up his nose at that, not sure why but seeing Emile with a sad look on his face when he’s going home doesn’t sit right. It’s a thought for another day as his moms pull up and he clambers into the car.

“How was school sweetie?” Mom asks him. Patton kicks his feet back and forth.

“I made a friend today,” He says softly but there’s a bright smile on his face.

“This calls for celebration!” His mother says proudly. Patton giggles at her and is more than happy to pick out his favorite pizza toppings when they get home. He turns on the TV when allowed and finds himself more giddy seeing that TV show Emile liked playing. He absorbs as much of it as he can, planning to talk to Emile about it tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and every day after that.

–

Is there something you’re curious about? Don’t hesitate to send in an ask and find out~ Any questions about the boys and their lives will be answered with fic!

–

Tag list:

@aliferous-ly @a-heartbroken-patton @wildhorsewolf @a-time-traveling-whovian @atomicljamm92 @shadowjag @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @fangirlfiles1 @snowcherri @sanders-s1des-blog @invsiblegay @the-fandoms-are-takin-over @dailyvirgildrabbles @misty-the-mysterious @echomist13 @everyday-emo-stuff @ashbosmer @a-fander-named-skittles @satanblessi @56-snakes-in-a-trenchcoat @inan-sanders

#patton sanders #emile picani #patmile #fic #two to tango

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locallygrownavocado · 6 years

Note

So I LOVED Tech Week! The AU is amazing and fresh, and the characters were true to canon but also modified nicely into the setting and situation. I would love to see some more of this universe as some cute one shots showing the different personalities of the skaters as portrayed in your AU. Love love love! 😍

Alright, so first of all, thanks so much for the ask!! I’m so glad you liked Tech Week!!

Second of all, ask and you shall receive. :) Huge shout out to @caitsyoi for betaing this quick for me and making sure it’s at least slightly coherent. :)

****

Leo was pacing. It wasn’t even the cute ‘walk three steps and turn around’ pacing, either. No, Leo de la Iglesia was spanning the whole hallway, back and forth, back and forth, music pounding into his ears at a volume that was probably louder than necessary.

Maybe if he went deaf from the headphones, he wouldn’t have to hear JJ gloat when he inevitably got the lead.

Again.

It would be just like Cinderella.

Except this year it would be worse because they were seniors. They were seniors, JJ was drama club president, and this time he’d be the actual lead instead of a love interest.

God, Mickey was going to die.

“Leo,” Guang’s voice said, somehow cutting through the music. “Sit.”

Leo looked at him skeptically but caved within seconds. He sat down on the floor and took his headphones out, giving the best smile he could.

Guang just laughed. “No use pulling that here. I’ve listened to you stress over the cast list for the past three days, I know you’re a mess.”

Leo shrugged as Guang started working through his hair. “It was worth a shot. And is that really necessary?”

“I told you. If you want to keep your hockey flow, it’s getting braided. No exceptions.”

Leo sighed but didn’t protest.

They were the first ones to the scene- Guang had a study hall seventh period and Leo had left Algebra early. Technically, they still had three minutes until the bell rang and their hallway filled with people.

Three minutes never felt so slow.

Eventually, the time passed and school was officially out. People flooded out of classrooms and into the hallways, ignoring Guang and Leo sitting by the auditorium wall.

It took less than a minute for the next drama student to arrive- he practically flew around the corner, almost knocking over a crowd of cheerleaders. Thankfully he came to a stop before tripping over Leo and Guang.

“What did I miss?” Minami asked eagerly. “Is it out yet?”

Leo just laughed. “The bell literally just rang, remember?”

Minami shrugged and sat down on the floor. “I mean, you never know. Maybe Mr. Nikiforov posted it during seventh period.”

“JHS Drama Lesson number one,” Leo said with a smile. “Nikiforov never does anything early.”

“Ever,” Guang added for emphasis as he stuck a bobby pin into Leo’s hair.

A few more people drifted into the foyer. A small group of freshmen formed in the corner, Emil and the Crispinos finding space a bit farther down the hall.

Mickey already looked annoyed.

That wasn’t a good sign.

At least Emil had put on some muscle over the summer and could probably hold him back.

Yuri was the next arrival, looking pissed off as ever.

“Leo you look like a fucking princess, what the hell.”

Guang just laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll do yours next.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and found a spot to sit against the wall.

A few more minutes went by, the remaining drama club members slowly trickling into the hallway. Guang finished Leo’s hair, poking a few more pins into the braided crown.

“Beautiful,” Minami said. “Do you do hair dye?”

Guang didn’t get the chance to answer.

“I brought cupcakes!” JJ announced as he walked into the hallway. “Nothing like sugar to keep the nerves away, am I right?”

“Buying affection yet again,” Yuri muttered bitterly.

JJ just laughed. “So you don’t want a cupcake?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Of course I want a fucking cupcake.”

“Hey, where’s Otabek?” JJ asked while passing Yuri the tupperware container. “He’s coming, right?”

“He’s with Nikiforov. He’ll bring the cast list down when it’s ready.”

“Nikiforov’s not bringing the cast list?” Emil asked from across the hall.

“I mean can you blame him?” Mila answered. “After what happened last year?”

“What happened last year?”

Leo sighed. “Alright, I’ll answer that one,” he said before JJ or Mickey got the chance to interject. “Last year we did Cinderella, right? It was a good show. But long story short, there were a few people upset about the casting of Prince Topher, and there was a bit of a fight when the list was posted. Nobody got hurt or anything, but stuff was said. Nikiforov got yelled at pretty bad, a few people quit the show. I think he’s trying to avoid a repeat performance.”

“People actually quit the show?” one of the freshmen asked. “Over casting?”

“JHS Drama Lesson number two,” Leo said. “Nobody out-dramas the drama department.”

“Ever,” Guang added for emphasis.

“Well, I mean you can’t really blame them,” Mickey muttered bitterly. “The casting was awful.”

“I’m right here,” JJ shot back. “God, could you just-”

He stopped suddenly, eyes snapping to the other side of the hallway. A few of the freshmen laughed. Yuri rolled his eyes for what had to be the fifth time in three minutes.

“Hey, Isabella,” JJ said smoothly. “Welcome to the party. Cupcake?”

Isabella smiled sweetly but shook her head. “No thanks, sorry,” she said. “I’m sure they taste great.”

JJ’s face visibly fell, but he quickly recovered. “It’s all good, don’t worry. More cupcakes for the freshmen.”

“More cupcakes for me,” Emil corrected as he reached for another.

JJ just laughed. “Should I save Otabek a chocolate or a vanilla?”

Yuri shrugged. “Give me a sec, I’ll ask him.”

For a moment, things were relatively quiet as Yuri typed into his phone.

“Wait,” JJ said. “You’re texting Otabek. Otabek’s with Nikiforov. Nikiforov has the cast list… Do you know things?”

Yuri just laughed. “Trust me. I know all thing things.”

Leo couldn’t help but perk up at that.

“Who?” Mickey snapped.

Yuri just rolled his eyes.

“Yuri Plisetsky you can’t just say something like that… And after I brought you cupcakes?”

The stage manager laughed. “Well, for starters, the role of Al Peterson is going to Sara Crispino.”

Leo hoped one of the freshmen got JJ’s reaction on camera.

“What the…”

“Haven’t you heard? It’s like a steampunk, gender-bent interpretation of Bye Bye Birdie.”

“Nikiforov would never,” Mickey said curtly.

“JHS Drama Lesson number three,” Leo said. “Nikiforov would do a lot of things if he didn’t have Lilia Baranovskaya breathing down his neck.”

“Ever?” Guang said hesitantly. “Does it work in that context? I don’t think ‘ever’ works in that context. Leo, you messed it up.”

“Sorry?”

“How the hell would you even steampunk Bye Bye Birdie?” JJ wondered aloud. “It’s set in the freaking sixties.”

“Fifties,” Mickey corrected. “God.”

“You know, this is why nobody likes you.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Starting this shit already?” Otabek said. “I mean I would’ve thought you’d be able to hold out at least through the read-through.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Look, nobody asked-”

“Otabek!”

Thankfully, the stage manager was able to move before the cast flooded the auditorium doors. Leo ended up slammed between Emil and Minami, not quite tall enough to see the list. He could hear the reactions, though.

“Wait, does that mean-”

“What the actual hell.”

“Leo de la Iglesia, my man.”

After what felt like forever, Emil moved out of the way and Leo started to read from the bottom up.

Minami was going to be Randolph.

Mila was Mae Peterson, she’d be great at that.

Mickey was Hugo Peabody, that in and of itself would be hilarious.

Sara was Kim Macafee.

JJ was Conrad Birdie.

Leo had to reread the line.

JJ was Conrad Birdie.

Conrad Birdie.

Not Al Peterson.

Isabella was Rose Alvarez, not that it mattered.

No, the only thing that mattered was the first line of the cast list, the name Al Peterson, and the name printed next to it.

Leo de la Iglesia.

All of a sudden, he was painfully aware of the whole cast’s eyes on him.

He froze.

And then Emil started what had to be the most chaotic group hug in drama club history.

“You, little man, are gonna kick so much ass,” JJ said. “It’s gonna be great.”

And somehow, standing in the middle of a full-cast group hug trying not to suffocate, it really was great.

(New to this AU and looking for Tech Week? Full story is here.)

#tech week #yoi #oneshots #stuff that came from my brain

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dryad-of-the-dogwood · 6 years

Text

Happy Friday, and happy first A Thread of Fate update of the new year! Chapter 27 is ready to view!

Chapter 27: Eyes in the Dark

Fanning is barely large enough to even be called a village, which if I had to guess is probably why I hadn’t heard of it before now. Velanna describing it as a “mining village” also seems a little… optimistic, to say the least. From what I’ve gathered from the one farmer willing to talk to us, it was more of a forced labor camp during the Orlesian occupation and the mine has stood abandoned ever since. It’s only recently that the local bann had the idea to reopen the mine, and the villagers started to find signs of the darkspawn taint and what the farmer describes only as “eyes in the dark.”

“I have to admit, I didn’t miss this part of being a Warden,” I mutter as we head underground.

“What did you miss, exactly?” Velanna wonders idly as she examines a wall of the mine in the green light from her staff. “All the best parts stick with you, I imagine—or do you not still dream of the horde on feather beds and silk pillows?”

“It gets a little better the farther you are from them,” I admit. “Sadly I’ve yet to find the specific golden embroidery pattern that blocks them out completely.”

Nathaniel snickers, then turns it into a cough. I assume he’s made up his mind not to like me already, and doesn’t want to jeopardize that by admitting I’m hilarious. And after I kept him from taking a throwing knife between the eyes or the ribs only yesterday, too. I really will never understand nobility.

Another few minutes of walking, and I stop them both with my torch thrust out to one side. “Do you feel that?” I whisper, and when they both look at me blankly, I shake my head and check again that I’m not crazy. There’s definitely something at the edge of my awareness, something blighted but too far for me to get a good idea what it is.

“The villagers were right,” I decide, pulling my shield off my back just in case. Velanna’s a mage and Nathaniel an archer, so I step forward to take point, carrying the torch at the ready like a sword. Darkspawn aren’t the biggest fans of fire, so it should make a good enough offensive surprise until I can draw my blade.

After a moment, I can hear Nathaniel and Velanna start muttering behind me, but I pay them no mind. Darkspawn senses don’t get rusty; as far as I’ve seen, they only get more refined. If they can’t feel whatever it is down there in the dark, it’s because their senses are undeveloped, not because mine are wrong.

Maker, I hope it isn’t a ogre.

The other two fall silent after a while, and I can only assume that means we’re getting close enough for them to feel it too. But the closer we get, the more confused I am. Whatever it is seems… vague? Not as clearly identifiable as a genlock or even an ogre, but definitely something corrupted. Sometimes I swear it even bubbles and separates and…

“Maker’s blood,” I groan as the realization hits me. “It’s blighted spiders.”

Nathaniel shoots me a look somewhere between confused and disdainful. “Are you trying to tell me we’re in a mine and you just remembered you’re afraid of spiders?”

“Wh—no!” I sputter in disbelief. “I’m saying what we’re sensing down there is spiders!”

Velanna too just looks at me like she thinks I’ve hit my head on something. “Are… you saying they put spider ichor in your Joining chalice, or that you were bitten by a particularly intelligent one and now—”

“Oh for the love of Andraste, no! I’m saying it’s actual, blighted-by-the-darkspawn-corruption giant spiders! Like in Ortan Thaig!”

Velanna and Nathaniel exchange looks, and he says slowly, “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Clearly, you’ve never been to Ortan Thaig,” I mutter. “They eat darkspawn that wander too far from the horde. They’re twice as big and five times as venomous. Oh, and they spit acid.”

“Lovely,” Velanna sighs, conjuring a ball of flame in her palm in addition to the light on her staff.

But it’s still a long way down, and before long she lets the flame flicker out to conserve mana. I’m not sure if trekking through the dark knowing you’re looking for giant, corrupted spiders is better or worse than not knowing, but by the time we make it down the last shaft and the ichor and webs start coating the cave walls, I like to think we would have figured it out anyway.

Then the glowing eyes start blinking at us from the darkness, and I see exactly what the farmer meant. It’s creepy, sets of eight eyes peering out of the shadows and then skittering away, even knowing what they are. Maybe especially knowing what they are.

“I don’t think there’s a queen,” I decide, though I’m not quite ready to feel relieved just yet. “So they must have come up from deeper underground, looking for food. But I count… fifteen.”

“Oh good, so it’s only five to one odds,” Nathaniel snarks, and Velanna smirks at him.

“What was it you were you saying yesterday, about how any recruit could handle this mission?”

“Yes, I’ll be sure to thank Emile for his foresight if we aren’t spider chow by the end of the day.”

“They’re circling,” I interrupt, turning with the torch to illuminate the shadows to Velanna’s right. Eighteen eyes glow in the firefight and then sink back into the darkness. “They’ll swarm, if you let them. Whatever you do, don’t let them knock you on your back.”

“So like wolves,” Nathaniel reasons, turning with his own torch to cover Velanna from the other side. “Huge wolves with eight legs and venom.”

“And acid spit,” I remind him.

“Right, who could forget about the acid spit?”

“Just stay still,” Velanna says quietly, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t charge in like a fool and—”

“Down!” I order, leaping back to the left. There’s a wet thunk and a hissing sound as acid drips off my shield. Only the hissing doesn’t stop, and now seems to be coming from all around us.

“I think you’ve made them angry,” Velanna says rather blandly for someone that almost just had her face melted off. And sure enough, the hissing turns into the clicking of far too many pincers, and then it’s like the dark starts to move toward us, the firefight glistening off of hairy black carapaces and hungry eyes.

Before I can move again, an explosion of flame bursts to life in the middle of the largest group, sending at least a half dozen of them into writhing fits on the floor. Another group starts to charge from my right, and I drop the torch as I draw my sword, kicking the brand into their midst and sending them scattering away from the fire. I cut one down as it flees, and when another tries to tackle me, I knock it back with my shield and drive the blade through its middle. A third heads in my direction, but doesn’t make it within ten feet of me before it’s struck by a fireball that sends it flying. Perhaps Velanna was more grateful than she let on.

It seems easier, somehow, than Ortan Thaig, and that’s probably saying something considering Shale was happily squashing the creatures with us back then. But I think the closer quarters actually work in our favor, giving us the chance to fight back to back without anything swooping down on us from above. At least, until the swearing starts when one of Nathaniel’s arrows glances off the shell of one especially large spider, who seems to have eyes only for the archer. He backsteps, slips on the green-black ichor pooling of one of the vanquished creatures, and falls. I can hear the crack as he lands hard on one elbow, and his bowstring goes slack.

Velanna’s back is turned, occupied roasting two more of the creatures with her magic, and without a thought, I leap in for another shield bash before it can overwhelm them. This thing must be built much sturdier than the others, because it doesn’t fly back into a tangle of legs like its fellows; it hisses angrily, then I swear it glares at me over the top of my shield. Morrigan? I wonder reflexively, and before I can even laugh at the absurd thought, the spider has overwhelmed my guard and what feels like the weight of a boulder is crashing down on my chest.

Fortunately, all that templar training seems to have taught me something, because I keep my grip on my sword. Unfortunately, it’s pinned under one of the spider’s legs and I don’t have the leverage to pull it free. I do manage to bring my shield up, which keeps the thing from taking my head off with those pincers, but smacks me hard in the face under the force of its attempt to do just that.

A fireball explodes on the other side of my shield and the spider clicks madly as it redoubles its effort to bite through the steel barrier and into my face. I mean to say I don’t think that worked, I really do, but for whatever reason, it comes out as, “I think you’ve made it angry!”

Velanna snaps something in elven that’s probably an insult and that I probably deserve. Then another arrow strikes the creature just on the leg pinning down my sword, and as it hisses away from the annoyance, I free the blade. I have to move my shield to thrust upward with the sword, and I time it mostly right; the spider shrieks as I impale it through the middle, and it only manages to gore the buckle off the left side of my breastplate instead of my head off my neck. Then, because there wasn’t enough assorted ichor and viscera all over everything already, the blighted thing explodes. I stare at the empty air above me for a moment, stunned into silence, until Nathaniel breaks into a laugh and Velanna says simply, “Well, that worked.”

I pull myself back onto my feet and sweep the area, but it appears the spiders saved the worst for last. Still, for good measure, I retrieve my torch and start looking for a sign of whatever hole they used to crawl up from the Deep Roads while Velanna tends to Nathaniel’s elbow.

“I’m no Anders, but I think that will set you right,” she says as the glow of healing magic fades.

“Well, thank the Maker for that,” Nathaniel mutters, flexing his arm. “I thought I’d made it worse, saving His Majesty here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you did, but I fixed it anyway,” Velanna assures him with a smirk, and I shoot them a look over my shoulder.

“Hey, I saved you first!”

Nathaniel grunts noncommittally, and says nothing else until we’ve filled the crevice the spiders crawled out of with rubble, lit the webs on fire for good measure, and escaped to the surface. To my dismay, it’s already dark out by the time we leave the mine. Velanna insists on securing us the only two rooms in the village’s tiny inn, and while she’s haggling with the innkeeper, Nathaniel clears his throat to get my attention.

“Thank you, for the rescue back there. It was ungrateful not to say so earlier.”

“No need, it’s all part of the job,” I say firmly. “Besides, I can only imagine what Velanna would have to say about any form of gratitude.”

Nathaniel grins. “Part of the reason I waited until she was distracted, I assure you!”

While I appreciate the gesture, all I can think of is that now it will be another day before I can be back to Nalissa. I suppose I should be grateful, I think with a sigh as I examine the black ichor streaking my armor. She’ll probably kill me when she hears I threw myself at a corrupted spider to save a Howe.

“Worried about that girl?” Nathaniel asks suddenly, and I have to stop and wonder if I’m just that terrible at hiding what I’m thinking.

“Lissa will be fine,” I say as confidently as I can manage. And she will, I know her; she could turn anything to her advantage if she put her mind to it. But that doesn’t stop me from worrying, or apparently from being obvious about it.

“Lissa?” Nathaniel repeats, his eyebrows shooting up. “Lissa Cousland?” At my nod, he sighs and puts two fingers to his temple as if he’s come down with a sudden headache. “Well, that explains a few things. Actually, if you’re with her, I think I’m surprised you didn’t let that thing kill me.”

I frown at that, and step a little towards the wall to make sure we’re out of earshot of everyone else. “You don’t think she actually wants you dead?”

Nathaniel gives me the most deadpan look I’ve ever received, and I grew up with chantry sisters. “She threw a knife at me, Alistair.”

“Well, at your father,” I correct him, and he gives me a confused look.

“Did you hit your head when that spider tackled you?”

“She thought you were your father,” I explain, or try to. “For all she knew, you had been in the Free Marches for years. I guess you look a lot like him, and seeing as the keep used to be your father’s, she… ah, she reacted.”

For some reason, Nathaniel manages to look more annoyed by that. “By trying to kill him? And I thought the Couslands were supposed to be so much better than my father.”

I don’t understand the bitterness in his voice or the sudden aggression in his stance. What exactly does he expect, for her to embrace her torturer? Stunned, I ask aloud, “You really can’t understand that her first instinct would be to defend herself? After what he did to her?”

Nathaniel crosses his arms, but the anger on his face turns to resignation as he looks away at the wall. “I… know it must have been terrible. Her family being murdered like that. I liked Bryce and Eleanor; they were always good to me. But how is she any different if her first reaction is to murder him back?”

I stare at him for a long moment before it hits me like a giant corrupted spider. “You don’t know.”

“Know what?” he snaps, switching to glaring at me. “How hard it was for someone like her to make it on her own until the Blight was over and she got her damned teyrnir right back?”

His tone has me dangerously close to snapping, so it’s probably not surprising he flinches when I grab a fistful of his gambison at the shoulder and drag him toward the hall. Both rooms are empty, because Velanna’s still bargaining for them, and I want to be very sure no one else hears what I’m about to say.

“No, what you don’t know is where she spent the Blight,” I hiss, releasing him a little more roughly than is strictly necessary, but he had better be listening if he knows what’s good for him. “After she spent months running from your blessed father and trying to keep him from murdering any more innocent people, his men caught up to her. And she spent half a year locked in Fort Drakon. Sereda was in that dungeon for seven hours and needed a healer before she could carry her shield again. Lissa was a prisoner for half. A year.”

Nathaniel’s jaw moves, but no words come out at first. Finally he manages to ask hoarsely, “My father knew this? Condoned it?”

“He was there,” I snap, then force myself to take a deep breath before I speak again. “I’m not standing here arguing with you about your father being a traitor and a murderer, because there’s nothing to argue. He was, and worse. She felt worse than she already did when Wynne told her it was you she’d tried to attack, you should know that. But if I hadn’t already run him through and it actually had been your father? I would have helped her.”

Needless to say, I get the second room to myself. Even after I finally manage to wash the ichor and spider guts out of my hair, I still can’t sleep, so I spend half the night cleaning my armor instead, thinking only of the morning and leaving for Vigil’s Keep at last.

I miss tangling my hands in Nalissa’s hair to sleep. I miss waking to a kiss and a smile and a playful threat if I fall asleep again. I miss the smell of her skin and the flash of her smile and the freckles across the bridge of her nose. When I finally pass out from sheer exhaustion long after midnight, my subconscious even sees fit to let me dream of her for a few blissful moments before the darkspawn dreams begin.

I’m sure it also goes without saying that it’s a painfully quiet trip back to Amaranthine.

By the time we leave the debriefing room after giving our reports to the Warden-Constable, it’s late enough I know I won’t have to go look for Nalissa anywhere but our room. The door is closed when I arrive, but the bed is empty and at first, I think I was wrong and she isn’t here. But Dante’s stub tail and the entire rest of his body wag furiously toward me in greeting, and when I look up from petting him hello, I realize the room isn’t otherwise empty after all. Slumped over the writing desk, fast asleep with her hair loose all over the tabletop and a long-dry quill in her hand, is Nalissa.

I swear, not even three days away and already I surely must have begun to forget how beautiful she is. Just lying there asleep, hair falling gently across her face, she takes my breath away.

She’s wearing another of those Grey Warden tunics that’s much too big for her, this one with long sleeves rolled up past her elbows, and… Maker’s breath, possibly nothing else. Her feet and legs are bare, braced a little awkwardly under the chair to keep her from slipping, and I find myself following their curves with interest. I consider whether it would be proper to carry her to bed—surely so, it wouldn’t do to leave her at the desk to wake with neck and back aches in the morning—until, just below the hem of the tunic and midway down her thigh, I spot a deep purple bruise.

“Lissa?!” I ask aloud in alarm, and her head jolts off the desk. Somewhere under her tangle of hair there must have been one of her white steel daggers, because she’s gripping it in her left hand as she blinks up at me, still bleary-eyed. And there’s another bruise darkening on her cheekbone.

I swear to the Maker, I don’t care if it was the Warden-Commander himself that laid a hand on her while I was gone, I will kill him.

I’ve been chasing down the man who paid the Crows to kill me, a silent figure in a long cloak, and just knocked him solidly to the ground. I’ve landed half on top of him, one knee pinned into the middle of his spine and the other heel crushing his wrist to the ground. My hand slips under the hood of the cloak, closes around the fabric to pull it back, and even my heartbeat goes silent in anticipation because any second now I’ll finally know who’s responsible for all of this—

Someone shouts my name and I startle, only to find myself not in any alley in Antiva City at all, but asleep on a desk with a sheet of parchment stuck to my face. My dagger is still in my hand though, and I raise it defensively as I blink into the light toward… Alistair?

“Alistair!”

I drop the dagger at once, only vaguely aware as it clatters into something or other on the table, and all but leap at him, my arms wrapping around his neck. He staggers a little and I think I probably surprised him, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’ve been so worried about him, so furious at Caron for telling neither of us how long he would be gone, that all I want to do is assure myself he’s back and safe and isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“You’re here,” I breathe, and he smells like him plus grassy fields and spring air, and I hope that means he was never in any danger at all.

But his hands push me back gently, one on my hip and the other breaking my grip around his neck, and I look up at him in alarm. Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong? I had thought Caron was being less antagonistic after our duel, but has he found some way to punish Alistair for it?

If he has, I’ll stab him for real, this time.

“What happened?” Alistair asks, and I frown my confusion at him. I wonder if I’m still half asleep and not comprehending everything, because his brown eyes are urgent, worried, and I don’t understand why. “Are you alright?” His thumb brushes my cheek, but it’s not until his other hand moves down from my hip to gingerly touch a sore spot on my leg that I recognize he’s pointing out my bruises.

“I’m fine,” I try to assure him, but his eyes remain serious and I laugh softly at myself. I’ve used that line so many times when I’ve been very not fine that it’s lost all meaning. “No, really this time! Just a few bumps from training, that’s all. But you, are you alright? Oghren was telling me some story about darkspawn in a mine! Was that true? Were you hurt?”

I take his face in my hands, brush back a lock of untrimmed hair curling down toward his forehead, examining him for any hidden injuries. He has a tiny cut above one eye, but it’s been cleaned and is barely noticeable. There’s a dent on his breastplate though, I realize, and it hangs askew with one of the buckles broken. It looks like it’s been wrenched off the chain beneath, the steel severed by something stronger. My fingers dart there, checking for a wound beneath the mail, but he catches my hand and brings it to his lips instead.

“No darkspawn, and I’ve never been better,” he says gently. “I’m back here with you, aren’t I?”

I’m sure my face is burning a little, but I can’t feel it for the warmth in my chest. I don’t know if it’s the words or the softer, lower tone when he says them, but sometimes when Alistair talks like that, I feel like my knees are in danger of melting from underneath me. I wonder if he even knows he does it. Maybe he is doing it on purpose, to distract me so I won’t ask about his damaged armor. I’m still trying to decide if he could be that devious when he gives me that smile—the slow, sweet, slightly uneven one that lights both his face and his eyes. I forget to breathe, and if I controlled my heartbeat, I’d probably forget that too.

“You’re wearing it again,” he whispers, and I can’t even piece together what the words mean until he distracts me from his eyes by tracing his thumb over the back of my fingers.

This time I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks when I realize he’s talking about the engagement ring. I hadn’t forgotten I put it back on exactly but it feels somehow right on my hand, so it was hardly at the forefront of my mind with him here to occupy my thoughts. But the way he looks at me like it’s one of the most important things he’s ever seen makes me feel simultaneously incredibly happy and… a little self-conscious?

“I—well, it—I did tell you I only took it off so I couldn’t lose it on the road,” I try to explain. “And obviously no one’s trying to steal it from me here, and it sort of made me feel a little more like you were here, so—”

The rest of my rambling sentence dies in my throat when Alistair kisses me, turning into a gasp that shudders out sounding surprised but pleased. I swear his mouth is molten against mine, and all the effort I’d put into keeping my knees solidly beneath me is lost as I melt against him like candle wax before a flame. His arms around my back and my waist, and one of mine that’s managed to find its way back around his neck, are all that keep me on my feet.

Until they don’t, until even though I don’t feel myself falling, the bed is beneath my back and Maker’s breath, he’s still kissing me. I have the wild thought that maybe I’m still dreaming—I’ve dreamt of him like this before, of his weight settling over me in bed, of his lips tracing adventurous paths along my skin, of what passion and desire might do to those gorgeous eyes—but there was decidedly less armor in those, and his breastplate pressing into my chest is entirely too pointed and uncomfortable to be a dream.

I want it gone, I have the presence of mind to think. Then his tongue passes my lips and I want all of it gone, every stitch of cloth and scrap of leather between us. I want him, his skin against mine and my name on his lips and all night to learn all of the ways he can say it. I want to hear it in a gasp and in a moan. I want to hear it with “I love you” in front of it.

It’s that last one that makes me pause, even though I’ve already undone the remaining buckle on the offending breastplate and torn it off the chainmail cuirass, even though Alistair hasn’t stopped me. My hands turn gentle against his shoulders, run along the curve of his neck, and trace lightly through his hair. I love him, all of his kindness and humor and strength and compassion… and his fears and insecurities too. How could I not, when they’re what first convinced me this strange man my brother wanted me to marry might actually be a decent person?

My lips curl into a smile against his and the kiss slows, becoming more tender than intense, and finally he smiles back at me with affection in his eyes. “I missed you too,” he says softly, one hand cupping my jaw and running a thumb along the side of my face. He kisses me again, this time slowly and softly, and I feel as though I must be catching fire from the inside. “I could hardly sleep without you beside me,” he whispers against my lips.

“I didn’t want to,” I admit, then a bizarre thought drifts into my head and bubbles out of my throat in a short laugh. “Maker, Alistair, are you quite sure you want to go back to Denerim? The regent very nearly lost his mind when my room was moved into the same hallway as yours.”

“The regent can stow it,” he decides promptly, and I decide that I’m starting to like the low, firm way he says it. Then the next thing I know, his lips and nose are trailing feather-light from my jaw down my neck. They aren’t kisses, just a slow movement like he might be trying to decide what my skin smells like, but it makes goosebumps rise on my arms and I go abruptly very still anyway. “I’m still the king, and I say I’m never sleeping without you beside me again.”

Alistair’s breath—and his words—against my neck send a little shiver down my spine that I can’t control. He draws back a little, looks at me curiously, and then a spark of mischief lights his eyes. This time, his lips on my skin are deliberate, and I bite my lip hard but still shudder despite myself.

“You really need to stop that,” I whisper as my nails rake against the back of his head, dimly aware that my own voice is now pitched lower than it was just a moment ago. “Or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

He has the nerve to chuckle against my throat before he draws back. Propped up on one elbow above me, a smile tugging at his mouth and his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them before, he might be the most gorgeous sight I’ve ever seen.

“I’m given to exaggerating, I know, but I’m not this time,” he says quietly, smoothing my hair back as he speaks. “The whole time I was gone, you were all I could think about. If you were safe, if you were worried, if… if you missed me as much as I missed you.”

“Every second,” I answer, my fingertips now dancing through the fine hair at the base of his neck. I love you, beats my heart in my ears, and this time I want to say it. I want to tell him how much I love him and why, name everything that he does, everything he is, that I adore, but it’s everything, and I don’t know where to begin.

“I love you.”

My heartbeat goes suddenly quiet—the whole world goes suddenly quiet, except for the faint sound of a single surprised breath. I look up at him, disbelieving, certain my imagination has gotten the best of me. But he’s watching me with a smile turned tentative and eyes suddenly uncertain, and I realize I didn’t imagine it.

He’s said it before I could.

“I—that was sudden,” he adds, the confidence of only a few moments before vanishing, his hand stilling in my hair. “I didn’t mean to just—to blurt it out, but you… Lissa, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and everything I never knew I did. And I just kept thinking how stupid it would be if I—if something had gone wrong, and I never had a chance to tell you that. So it’s—it’s okay if you—if that’s not how you feel about me, or—”

“I love you, too,” I interrupt him. He freezes, and I think perhaps it’s his turn to wonder if he’s hearing me correctly, so I go on. “I do love you, Alistair. For a while now, I just… couldn’t quite admit it. I was afraid if I said it, and—and something happened, it would make it worse. Or the Crows would find out and… It would kill me to lose you. You are the most important person left in the world to me. You’re brave, and sweet, and loyal, and just stubborn enough you won’t let me get away with it when I’m being an idiot. And I love you.”

At some point while I spoke, a smile crept onto my lips, because I’m beaming at him when I say it the third time. For a moment, his lips twitch as they spread slowly into a smile, like he still isn’t completely sure he believes what I’ve just said. Then he kisses me, hard, and my hands catch in the back of his collar and in his hair, and his is so tangled in mine I’m not sure if he’ll ever be able to free it. But I eventually have to ask him to anyway, when his armor starts digging into my bare legs.

Alistair apologizes, but he’s still grinning as he climbs off me. And I watch with a smile as the giant dork then struggles to extricate himself from the chainmail and somehow manages to get the breastplate I’d tossed to the floor tangled around one boot. How he can manage to be such a steady presence in a fight, or such a comforting one in general, I can’t quite explain as I smother a giggle into my hand and move to help him. But he is, even if he’s also awkward and adorable, and I love him for all of it.

And he loves me, I think with an indescribable happiness expanding in my chest. He loves me, and I love him.

And so help me Maker, if anyone in Thedas thinks to hurt him, they will have to go through me first.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #alistair #alistair theirin #cousland #nalissa cousland #alistair x cousland #fanfic #my fanfic #writing #my writing #a thread of fate #ao3

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matthewko28 · 6 years

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Stay the Way We Are / Chapter 5

Hetalia fanfiction, human AU, EstIce platonic

>>Chapter 1<<

>>Chapter 2<<

>>Chapter 3<<

>>Chapter 4<<

Chapter: 5/9

A/N: I changed the definition of their friendship mentioned in the previous chapters. Platonic is more accurate to describe their relationship but I didn’t know it until now, poor my vocab_(: _ㄥ)_

A LOT of setting in this chapter is for the plots purpose and please don’t mix it up with both Hetalia the original work and the real world.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything mentioned in the story but the story itself!

Also on ff.net: it doesn’t show me the link so i’d post it later

and Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756427/chapters/37563713

Emil soon regrets his decision the next morning. It’s not a normal time to get up, and Emil thinks it should be the reason he bumps on the furniture several times and makes a lot of noise. The sound is too annoying, even wakes Lukas up to warn him—he throws a pillow onto his younger brother. But there’s one thing Emil has to clarify that he’s not intend to provoke his brother again when he shuts the door accidently. He feels like he’s still not clear-headed enough when he rides his bike, so it’s impossible for him to behave like a brat just because he gets up early in the morning. Emil suddenly feels worried about Mathias—a grumpy Lukas in the morning is hard to get along with. Emil yawns, mumbling something like I’m sorry to his brothers while he has been far away from his home. He rubs his eyes, hurrying on his way when the traffic light turns green.

“I regret accepting the job.”

This is the first thing Eduard tells him when Emil finally arrives at the planetarium. He could make sure that Eduard is as tired as him after he witnesses the guy pushes over a row of bikes when they’re locking their own bikes. Waiting for his friend picking up the pieces, Emil can’t help but wondering; how did they both get there in a safe way?

He follows Eduard into the building, just finds they’re the only two in the huge space. The day has dawned outside though, the sunlight doesn’t spread into galleries. Emil looks around. he can merely see the exit signs in the end of those corridors. The hall is totally dark, dark enough as if a universe truly existing here. “What do you preview today?” he asks.

“English narrator for the star maps program this month. The staff here is on vacation, so my teacher asked me to give it a try.” Eduard turns back, reminding Emil to take notice of those hanging exhibits, “Would you refine my speech later?”

“Got it. You plan all the things and invite me to join you at the final step.”

Eduard only answers him with chuckle, keeps walking ahead until stopping at the double door of the theatre. He pushes the doors open and a huge dome room silently appears in front of them. They’re surrounded by a giant, pale hemisphere. The wall fittings hidden in the corners and stairs slowly enhance the light. The glow gradually turns the cool gray full of the room into warm and sunset colors. Emil wanders into the seating, looking up to the top of the dome.

He’s tapped on the shoulder suddenly. Taking a cold glimpse of his back, Emil finds that Eduard makes a gesture for sorry, “I guess you may need a nap. Find your seat first.

“You know it’ll be meaningless to sleep here.” He talks back quietly. But Eduard doesn’t hear that, he just walks upstairs in a hurry. Emil looks at his back, noticing that there are some staffs of the museum waiting for his friend at the highest place.

He walks alongside the stair Eduard passed by, searching for a seat he can curl up his body comfortably. He chooses the one located in the middle rows in the end. Taking off his backpack, Emil lays down on the tilted chair and holds his pack tightly. The dim lights are turned off one after another. Emil closes his eyes, hearing some buzzing noise from the speakers. The sounds soon turn into a male voice Emil has been familiar with. “Testing now…, üks, kaks, kolm…,” the voice is clean and soothing as always, but now speaking in a language Emil has never known, “Tere hommikust, see on von Bock…, okei…. Let’s start.” Emil opens his eyes, but just staring at the scene calmly. The silent, dark blue widens above him, stars sparkling in the night; this is not the first time Emil watches an astronomy show, since his brother has been dedicating a few years to the research field. He has to admit that he pays little attention to Eduard’s speech because he has contact with such type of knowledge for years. The starry night is gradually darkening, only a few brighter stars are left in the end. Lots of white lines appear on the dome screen, connecting the shiny dots like a connecting puzzle game. Some figures in the ancient mythology are added later. Emil looks at all these changes though, his mind is just sinking into the memory. He remembers one day in his elementary school; he and his classmates did a special experiment that day. They spent almost an afternoon building a volcano model.

He forgot how his teacher make the “magma” looks real, only remembering the red liquid climbed along the clay mountain he built hard, and finally spouted from the gap, flowing and covering the grass slope made by his friend. All his classmates were getting excited at the moment, except for Emil, he was still stunned by the red colors weaving beneath the surface, keeping quiet and couldn’t look away from the colorful layers.

The line drawings fade, the few stars are scattered by the Milky Way, uncountable white blots splash over the dome in the blink of an eye. The narration is slowly muted in a gentle piano tune. Emil sits straight up, intending to look back while Eduard has come and sit next to him.

“How’s my performance?”

“Uh?” Emil stops for a moment, realizing that he has no excuse for getting distracted, “sorry…, I didn’t focus on it.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you feel relaxed here.” Eduard says, waving at the control room behind them, “Mrs. Janssen said we could stay here for a while, but we’ve to leave at 20 minutes before the opening time.”

Emil gives a glance at his watch. They have about an hour.

“So, as for now, would you mind if I say something here?”

“What? I mean… about what?”

“About my home,” Emil turns to Eduard soon, but Eduard doesn’t make eye contact with him, “Do you know Tartu?”

“…Your hometown?”

“Yeah, wanna take a trip?”

“That’s not the point.” He sits back in his chair, knocking the armrest a little impatiently, “What do you want to say?”

“I escaped from there.” Eduard answers him a smirk though, “Sounds like a spoiled teenager, is it?”

“…Why did you escape?”

“Because I was refused.” Emil sits frozen. He’s about to jump and look at Eduard, but he forces himself to focus on the night sky. Eduard doesn’t notice that, just continuing his words, “My family opposed to everything I wished for, such as my hobbies, my high school, and my career. They think I shouldn’t decide those things on my own…. Hey, imagine a situation, you gave your child the best education in your opinion, hoping he or she succeeded in school, in the future, to praise your family. But one day the brat just told you I don’t want you to treat me like that, I don’t want to waste my time on those things ‘I do for your own good’ then left you and studied in a young university which just reorganized within years, and planned to get a degree you thought it’s not ‘useful’ at all. The brat even lives abroad now. How do you think? Do you feel it’s like a sense of betrayal?”

“I don’t agree with the thought of useless degree.”

“Neither do I. But my family is as stubborn as me. They think UT is better than all school located in Tallinn. Why do I insist on studying there when I have ability to apply to the elite university in their minds? I could tell you that up to now, my family still rejects my decision…. I’ve worked so hard to show them I wouldn’t let them being looked down on although I didn’t follow their advice. Unfortunately, I was overwhelmed by their disapproval. From then on, I started to wonder, if Tallinn is not far enough away, what about moving to a place more distant from them? At least I’m good at, um, being a good student? So I had confidence to make my plan work…. Look, I’m sitting beside you right now. I win the bet. How lucky I am.”

“Yeah, yeah, a gifted exchange student.” Emil replies mindlessly, then pauses for a second, “but don’t you think it’s another way to show your family you’re right?”

“No, I’m just an escapist. The only thing I want to do is to get rid of them, the farther the better.”

“You’re so straightforward.”

“It’s true anyway.”

“Do you ever consider going back?” He thinks of what Eduard once said; he’ll do whatever to stay in Copenhagen.

“Yes, I do. After all, I love my birthplace.” Eduard’s voice sounds a little tired. Emil hears a tiny sound like taking off the glasses. “Maybe Tartu is getting old. She’s not like Tallinn, willing to embrace the sea, embrace the world. But to me, she gives me a sense of belonging, which is impossible to be replaced by any other place. I know I belong to the city, and I’m also proud of being born there, but it shouldn’t conflict with the tiredness I have sometimes. Like now, I feel tired more than eager to stay there, but it doesn’t mean the two feelings won’t end in a draw, and maybe my passion for my hometown will come back one day. Sounds not bad, is it?”

“Feeling tired… more than feeling eager to stay?”

Emil doesn’t get answer this time. Eduard sounds like he’d not like to keep talking, his calm voice fading away, one of his arm rising and covering his face while the other one just resting on the chair. His glasses are held slightly in his fingers. Emil can’t stop wondering, is it struggling for a long time or lack of sleep to cause Eduard’s tiredness. He wants to touch Eduard’s hand if it can comfort him, but he doesn’t even know what motivates him to do that.

“Oh, by the way, I’m still willing to be your tour guide if you really want to visit Tartu.”

“Or you could be a host for your new travel channel.” Emil talks back. They turn to look at each other at the same time, under the fictional night. It feels like all their thoughts hidden behind the eyes could be read easily. Emil thinks, being about to avoid the gaze, but a sound in his mind’s just trying to convince him, he should leave something in return for their relationship, “…why do you tell me all of this?” His voice is awkward though, he looks someone in the eye at least.

“I thought you want to know.”

Emil finally turns away. What a god damn embarrassing answer.

He hears the annoying laughter as expected, almost making him want to punch the guy. Eduard spends a few seconds stopping his laughter, “Hey, I’m honest with you,” he explains after Emil turns to him again with slightly blushing, “After all, you looked very curious after we finished the work in archive room that day, but you also looked hesitant to ask me. I don’t know it was because you were scared by me or you were worried about something, after all it was the first time I showed my worst status in front of you, if I remembered correctly…. Back to the topic, I think it’s better to find a chance to talk about it, and tell you it’s okay you ask me anything. Hoping you won’t see me as a self-centered guy.”

“Well sometimes you gave me the impression. By the way, we finished the archive work one month ago, I don’t think you’re a dull person who has no reaction for such a long time.”

“No, I’m not. I didn’t mention it because you’re too slow to warm up to people.”

“Yeah, right.”

“There’s another reason,” the chairs squeak, Eduard sits up a little straighter, taking his glasses on, “besides your shyness, you look like you have no energy often, and it’s not quite hard to notice your lack of confidence from, um, average negative people. It’s just my intuition, I don’t know if you were asked before…. You give me a feeling that you’re always a foreigner. The loneliness is too hard to ignore so I can’t help but being attracted by it.”

“Foreigner?”

“Um… in fact, I think it’s more accurate to describe it as a stranger, never feeling fit in with the surroundings no matter where you go.”

Emil holds his body more tightly, pretending to not hear anything except for the noise from his squeezed backpack.

“Am I right?”

“…Hm.”

“As for why I nag all of these, you look like you’re bothered by some upset thoughts for a while, and hurry to find a way to be released from it. I think it’ll be great you don’t feel helpless anymore so sorry for sometimes being a busybody. I can’t always read the tangle in your mind completely but I can’t either leave you alone.” Eduard says, leaning his arms against the armrest of Emil’s side, “It feels like I find a resonance with you though your situation is a little different from mine. I’m not pretty sure but, you’re kinda like a combination of inferiority and strong personality. The two opposite thoughts make you feel struggled always, and bring you the anxiety you have no idea to deal with. You’re chasing a solution you don’t even know to erase them all.”

The dark sky was bleached. The warm light is rising from the corners and slowly wrapping up the white dome.

“Emil, did you ever think you’ve already found your answer? What you need now is just a little bit more courage, to prove that you deserve what you dream.”

“…Did you know? Sometimes I really want to say, I have no idea to get along with you.”

Emil stands up and looks Eduard back from a high angle—it’s rare to him to be honest.

“Haha, sounds better than your first sight.”

Eduard also stands up, picking his pack up and walking to the exit first. Emil stays for a while, then runs and catches up with Eduard, “But, there’s another thing I need… I want to tell you,” he says, approaching the door handle before Eduard.

“Thank you.”

He rushes into the hall before getting any reply, following the direction boards he could barely see, going straight and turning without hesitation. He doesn’t even know whether Eduard is walking behind him, his footsteps are too heavy and dull, but he’d make sure that his partner would realize his thought.

Emil turns back, as he’s looking forward to, meeting a warm smile within his sight.

>>original Chinese version<< (including English version Chapter 5&6)

A/N2: Some Estonian words mentioned in the chapter ˊωˋ

Üks, kaks, kolm: one, two, three in Estonian.

Tere hommikust, see on von Bock.: “Good morning, this is von Bock.” in Estonian.

UT: the University of Tartu. It’s the oldest university in Estonia, established by King Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden in 1632.

I take a reference from the youtuber. She’s sooo cute and has a sweet voice but doesn’t post any video for a while _(;3_ㄥ)_ (and google and wiki of course haha)

If there’s anything wrong or improper please drop me a message! Thank you!!

#estice #aph estonia #aph ice #hetalia #stay the way we are #aph iceland

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jainarepellista · 7 years

Text

Tower of God S2ch246 Rough Translations

NOTE: A lot of panels have been cut from the preview. I don’t know if it’s intentional or an error (although I do think it’s an error because there’s no credits at the end) Right now, I’ve removed the parts in the preview that aren’t in the official but if they are returned, please do inform me and I’ll update this post. Thank you

Updated now!

Having been drawn here by the scent of perfume after arriving..

I happened to chance upon a beautiful damsel in distress..

Could it be..

that I'm fated to be every lady's hero?

What.. are you?

U..

Urek Mazino!?

43F Hell Train - Floor of Death - 15

Urek Mazino..!!

Why is that monster here!?

..Hm?

Oh!! Aren't you Viole's companion from before? / Hi!!

(Wow, it's nice to see you!)

Don't act so friendly with me!! It's scary!!

(How long have we known each other for you to greet me like that?!)

...He knows Viole? / Just who the heck is he?

...That guy.. I think I've seen him somewhere..? / But it's weird..

If he came here alone, then he should be stronger than a ranker.. / But it doesn't feel like that at all?

.......Looks like the anklet was effective.

30 minutes ago-

Above the Floor of Death

Mazino-nim.

Please wear this before entering-

? / What's that? An anklet?

Yes. This anklet will prevent others from noticing your powers, Mazino-nim.

This was flown here specifically so that Garam-nim would not notice you.

If you wear this anklet, your powers will appear to be below that of a normal ranker.

Of course, it doesn't actually decrease your powers.. / If you use more than 5% of your power, this anklet won't be able to endure it and break, so please be careful.

But does.. it really have to be a silver anklet..

(It looks like something a stalker would wear)

Yes. The leader won't accept any design but this.. / Don't you think it matches you perfectly, Mazino-nim?

Ah- and the leader / has another message for you, Mazino-nim-

"It's a precious object so don't ever break it" / "If you get caught, Garam will definitely dump you" is what he said-

Urk...!!

Damn- That bastard. / Cursing my love life like that.

Well, this is not that bad of a handicap.

If these little punks are my opponents / 5% of this body should be enough.

What?! / His power's suddenly..!!

This is dangerous..!!

World of Darkness

Horned Whip of the Black Goat

Aah- Guess I have to correct that.

He's fine?!

I overestimated you too much.

With you, not even 5%..

but just 1% should be enough.

So-

How about you fight with this guy, instead?

My finger.

..How preposterous...

Don't get so cocky!!

I'm just

that formidable, baby-

If you can endure this finger-

Aack?!

I'll give you six wings!!

Allow me to guide you if you two are going to Hell Joe's castle.

D'za's Castle

You can go there by using this "entrance" behind me.

Hell Joe must not have noticed the existence of the shinsoo path connected to this "entrance" yet.

The shinsoo path connected to this entrance is a secret passage that was created by D'za-nim and D'sa-nim.

It is connected not just to Hell Joe's castle but to many places in South City as well. / It can be called our most powerful means of penetration right now.

Then let's go right away..!!

What? / You're going in without any plan!?

..If Yuri-noona is over there, my other companions might be in danger. / I don't know why they're there but I have to hurry, Rachel.

..You've survived so far with that kind of mindset?

Does that Joe guy have any weaknesses or something? / We can't go without a plan, you know?

...I. I'm so sorry!! / We were too afraid of him to find out..

But.. if we free D'sa-nim from being locked up.. / and borrow the power of D'za-nim's "eyes"..

There might be a way.

D'za-nim's eyes?

Yes. The moment D'za-nim and D'sa-nim saw Enryu with their eyes / they obtained mystical abilities.

And among those is D'za-nim's eyes of the "Future" which have the ability to see the future.

Once when Joe tried to break into the North City- / the power of D'za-nim's eyes and the assistance of a mysterious (lit. secret) woman

(Why is there a trap wherever I go!!)

stopped him from progressing farther than South City and caused him to retreat.

I think it would be helpful if you have the power..

of D'za-nim's eyes that brought the savior here.

The one.. who brought me here.. / You mean..!!

Hockney-ssi?!

(Win!!)

(Win, noonim!!)

(Kill Hell Joe!!)

........

Excuse me.. / D'za-nim?

Hm? What!?

Um..

Why did you call me your eyes, D'za-nim?

What?!

Obviously!!

Because those two eyes are mine!!

...Huh?

You came here once after losing your eyes / and your friend begged me to give them back!!

But because your body already lost its immortality and couldn't regenerate / I gave you my two eyes instead in exchange for doing me a favor!!

You really don't remember?

......Mata?

I.. I don't..!!

Hmm- that's weird..

But you managed to bring the savior here in that state. / You even forgot my message to "look for the princess resembling the light of deep waters"?

That was.. the only thing I remembered so I told it to Emile..

But I don't remember that such a thing happened to me at all..

T-then..!! / Maybe you know who stole my eyes?

(Haa...)

Your eyes, you say? / So you don't remember that either.

I heard it was Hell Joe who took your eyes.

Because you wouldn't cooperate with him in finding the piece of the thorn / Joe got angry and pulled out your eyes.

He tried to use your eyes to look for the piece but he failed. / Your friend then took you and brought you to me.

You don't remember anything.. / You're really weird.

..........!!

Mata.

Hockney..

I heard from D'za-nim. / That I've also been to this place before.

Yeah... / You came.. with me..

...So it was true.

Mm. I brought you here after Joe stole your eyes. / If it's the Room of Souls, then you should be able to recover your eyes..

That's what I thought.

You were Joe's underling when I first met you.

...What?

At some point since Joe occupied South City, he started trying to find the "piece of the thorn". / Just like now, I was an ordinary parasitic in charge of guarding the outside..

But one day, I got an order to find the piece of the thorn with you.

You told me you became Joe's underling after you found the "piece of the thorn" by chance.

My mission was to give you a ride in my giant worm and look for the piece of the thorn.

You were a peculiar guy who liked painting. / You always told me how you wanted to get out of the Floor of Death

And that your wish was to travel outside with your friends and to paint.

Hell Joe promised that you could go outside if you find the piece of the thorn.

Perhaps it was a downright lie but / we became a team and started searching for it.

And we finally found it.

But you became weird after "that". / You said your soul got trapped in your painting..

And then you went to Joe and told him you won't help him anymore.

He got incredibly angry that he pulled out your eyes and stole your painting. / Your eyes never came back.

So I took you, who lost your eyes, here.

D'za-nim was surprised upon seeing you / and said your body could get out of the Floor of Death.

He gave you his own eyes instead / and asked you to do him a favor.

Because it was a secret / I don't know the contents of the favor..

but you seemed to have accepted it.

But a problem came up the next day when you were leaving the castle.

Maybe it was because of D'za-nim's eyes / that you fell unconscious

When you woke up a few days later, you can hardly remember your past.

Even your promise with D'za-nim-

...........!!

I.. thought it was a good thing.

Without going back to D'za-nim / I helped you get out of the Floor of Death. / I almost got caught and killed by Hell Joe in the middle of it.

..Why.. did you..

I wanted you to forget everything. To escape the Floor of Death, / climb the Tower with your friends

and live like an ordinary person. / Because that was your dream.

And to fulfill your dream.. / I thought it would be better if you forget everything about this place.

...Mata..

Hockney..!! I!!

..Thank you.

Thank you for thinking about me, Mata. / But..

I realized when I got outside.

I cannot feel happiness.. / with an emptiness in my heart like this.

This must be my punishment. / For forgetting something important-

...Hockney.

Let's go to Hell Joe, Mata.

!! Hockney!?

I heard my painting is also in South City. So.. / if I go there, I can end everything.

I will go to Hell Joe, get back my eyes, / and find the last piece of my painting.

That's why I came back here.

...So that's what happened.

I see.. / I didn't know Hockney's eyes have such a secret..

But I can't involve him with something so dangerous..

What?!

What are you saying!! Baam!! / We need every small possibility we can get!!

..The painting he's looking for is in my lighthouse!! / I'm sure he'll come in handy if he goes with us!!

What?!

Hey.. you guys.

Are you going to Hell Joe? / I'll come with you.

Hockney-ssi?

Let me go with you. / I'm sure I could be of help.

Hockney-ssi....

I'm going too. / I'm immortal so leave the dangerous stuff to me.

Mata.

Did you hear about your eyes from D'za-nim?

Yeah. I want to get back my eyes once more.

And I have to find my soul that is in my painting.. / That's why I have to meet with Hell Joe even at the risk of my life.

I understand. / I will guide you.

And I have a favor to ask of you two saviors.

It looks like you two are competitors..

But Hell Joe isn't someone you can win against while competing with each other. / Can I ask you two to work together at least until you've dealt with him?

Baam-nim, since you seem to know that woman who appeared in the castle, / please join her and distract Joe.

Meanwhile, Rachel-nim and I will sneak into the castle and rescue D'sa-nim. / Once we've done that, we will join with you, Baam-nim, and take down Hell Joe.

..I'm fine with that.. / How about you, Rachel?

...I have no complaints too. / I can't do it by myself anyway..

Besides, Karaka is headed here.

It's better to leave this place as quickly as possible.

So will you do my favor for me?

..Yes!!

(Kill Hell Joe!!)

(That bastard!!)

If I tell D'za-nim we're going, he'll insist on coming too. / We should leave before he notices us.

Then let's go-!!

To Hell Joe's castle-!!

At the Same Time Entrance to Hell Joe's Castle

(Run!!)

(Shit!! There's no opening for a counterattack!!)

As expected. / That girl is completely toying with Sanchez.

She's strong enough to fight with me.

#Tower of God #translations #S2ch246

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