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sneakerdoodle · 5 years ago

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On Second Citadel and unity

It was interesting to me that, after making Junoverse a very poignant gender utopia (and general lgbt-utopia, too), Kabert went ahead and made their second storyline so heavily centered around bigotry and discrimination (dealing with topics of ableism, mysogyny, homophobia). now, obviosuly, Junoverse is not even remotely free of inequality, and as far as the mentioned topics are handled this utopia is not disability-friendly, with prosthetics not being readily available with no charge, which, like many other things, strips people of their autonomy, turns them into a rich man’s plaything. But here inequality is arguably explored from the point of exploitation of one human being by another, of abuse of power (interpersonal and social-scale). Whereas Second Citadel opens with an episode about two knights - a disabled one and a woman one - both of whom struggled for similar reasons, so there is supposedly little power imbalance here. And yet they do not see eye to eye, even more so, one of them furthers the other’s discrimination. We can speculate that that’s Sir Caroline’s effort to fit in - strengthen the sense of her hard-earned belonging by othering someone who never got that right to belong. Which doesn’t make it any less infuriating and damaging, but sets the tone of the story very well. There is no strong thriving off the weak. There are just people infinitely rejecting one another on the basis of their differences, often under the weight of their own rejection.

The topic of ostracization and discrimination is tackled in almost every arc of SC, but the idea of othering extends beyond it. The central conflict, the ongoing war is between monsters and humans - and while we’re more familiar with the human side of it, while we may learn more about the history of their conflict and who wronged whom first and worst, for now we’ve seen both humans and monsters express deep disgust for each other and one another’s way of living. And then the same happens on a smaller scale, within one species: we see the mutual disdain between Northerners and Southerners. Sir Caroline is different not only as a woman but as a foreigner; the Cinderclasp episode made it far too clear that the attitude to foreigners in the South is no better.

And all of that unravels against the backdrop of pretty phrases about unity that get repeated over and over. “Strength in Unity”. “Two in unity, simple, strong”. I believe those are not instruments of irony, however, but keys to the central message, echoes of this societies’ past and - hopefully - foreshadowing of their future.

Sir Caroline twists the meaning of that unity in order to keep her authority:

ANGELO: Sir Caroline, I really don't think-- CAROLINE: What is the primary edict of our Citadel, Sir Angelo? ANGELO: Strength in unity. Of course. CAROLINE: And the sooner you all remember that, the safer humanity will be in these Northern Wilds. Hypocrites. The lot of you. Unified only when it’s convenient. No better than monsters in that way: greed governs all, and everyone just does what they want to get what they want. If you just listened to authority, real authority, you might actually be safe.

And that happens to highlight what unity is not: giving up one’s autonomy and approach and unique competence to fit into someone else’s model of desired reality.

Here Damien’s words about perspectives come into play. However labored and uncomfortable they were, showing his inability to not fixate on what separates others from him, they are important as a piece of the meta puzzle: they make us think of inherent value of different experiences.

DAMIEN: My kind, kind friend. I agree that it is a shame that we cannot trust these men. They would be valuable allies, as Sir Caroline was – for moving through the world as she has, in a life quite different from ours, has clearly gifted her with ways of thinking that you and I would never come to. ANGELO: Very true, very true. DAMIEN: And so I am certain that given Marc’s...situation, he too must have a perspective of great value in our mission. But the simple fact is that he cannot be trusted.

The importance of these lines is backed up in Lady of the Lake, when Caroline is instructed to use specific characteristics of her subordinates and turn them into strength that would aid the mission. We are told over and over that true unity is in embracing our differences, valuing them and working together to make these differences work in everyone’s favour.

There is something to be said about quite careless exploitation of Damien’s neurodivergency of course, but that is once again the warped verison of true unity, showing what unity is not, but also simultaneously giving us some idea of its potential. At the core, behind Sir Caroline’s personal errors, the message is kinder, broader. We are told again and again that the importance of the unqiue approach, unique way of thought, unique operation of our minds can enrich our shared experience and cooperation beyond measure.

So when later on Sir Caroline instead tries to suffocate any challenge to her authority, any alternative point of view, it comes as the biggest whiplash.

And of course, when discussing the monster-human antagonism in this vein, the Moonlit Hermit arc gives some truly invaluable material. Rilla and Arum’s interactions are strongly based on the differences of their approach to the world, with Rilla’s being a rational one and Arum operating on what can be called intuition, spiritual sense and probably instinct. He despises attempts to rationalize the free broad flow of the universal energy.

And what we see is two of them coming together, sharing their views of the world and finding something useful, fascinating, beautiful in the point of view that seemed so unthinkable before. That culminates in the truly breathtaking scene of their discussion of the nature of music, whether it’s magic or math:

RILLA: I mean..why can’t it be both? ARUM: Nonsense. RILLA: No, I mean...maybe that’s what makes music special. It uses these predictable scales and measures and combines them with some unpredictable, something-- ARUM: Magic. And what comes out isn’t really either. It’s...more.

“It’s more”. Can’t overstate how hard this hits. And the parallel between this theory and Rilla and Arum’s relationship is more than on the nose, proving to us once again that the idea of unifying our different experiences and perspectives as something incredibly valuable, something that creates something new, rich, priceless, that is more than just a sum of the two, is central to the narrative.

What is interesting to me in the Moonlit Hermit arc is the distinction that is made between the monsters and the humans. Humans are supposedly rational while monsters speak of magic and the Universe - what a fun narrative is that! Monstrous spirituality... And then later on we have Damien raging at his saint, yelling “It is only monsters who listen to their heart above all!” - but apparently it is not.

The new season offered some helpful context to that, specifically - the Thought Stream. Obviously referencing the Tarot, it has four suites resembling the Minor Arcana while what can be called the Major Arcana is not a part of the deck usually but something that appears unpredictably (specifically: Olala’s card that does not belong to the Wilds, Wastes, Frosts or Mirrors suit).

The four Tarot suits (Swords, Cups, Wands and Pentacles) represent different areas of our life, separated: Intellect, Emotion, Spirituality/Creativity and the Material. Mind, Heart, Spirit and Body.

The four suits also correspond with the four elements. And Water is the one corresponding with Heart, with our emotions. I do not think it to be a coincidence that Saint Damien - the one encouraging his follower to listen to his heart, teaching him tranquility i.e. not losing oneself in the stream of emotion, the one teaching how to let one’s heart guide not stir - has water and the waves as his symbol.

So if Damien is Heart, Rilla is definitely Mind: she is analytical, a determined problem solver. I believe Arum represents the Wands: the Spirit and the fire - and that it is a symbol connected to monsters’ society in general.

Wands suit deals with passionate creation, with realizing one’s vision, bringing something into the world. That seems in line with the monstrous philosophy in general. They talk of one’s place decided by the Universe, they say one is justified in their actions as long as they truly do what they want, follow where their passion guides them. There is quite a bit of hypocrisy there as we can see in the Spiral Sage arc, the monster society may just be keeping the platitudes while giving in to the power of the strongest no matter the Universe’s place for the weak - but the ideal is still there, and it is one Arum seems to follow wholeheartedly. (Hence his interpretation of Damien seemingly abandoning his path as a lack of character.)

The same idea - one’s place in the Universe - is brought up again in the first part of “The Fool in the Garden of Death”, showing this belief spreads beyond monsters’ society, into the Western Wastes. None of the elements, be it Heart or Spirit, are strictly one species’; however, we’re dealing with different cultures and ways of life people are most accustomed to, prioritizing different aspects of life. And we’re being shown that maybe engaging with each other is what those cultures are supposed to do.

The Thought Stream’s deck is made up of four suits corresponding with four ends of the world, four parts of it. Where in Tarot we have aspects in Thought Stream we have places. This reinforces the concept of different aspects of life, different ways of approaching it, corresponding with specific societies.

Each of the suits is given an identity, but all of them make up one deck.

After all, what’s one aspect of a being without all the rest? Reign of just one’s Mind, Heart, Spirit or Body - how long can it last before turning destructive?

True strength is in balance of different elements - in unity that recognizes the value of each of them.

I have a theory that the ideals of the Second Citadel are the forgotten and revamped mottos of the beings of Fort Terminus: “two in unity” being not two partners but two worlds, monster and human, coming together to create something that is more, something new and powerful and full of potential. Capable of building something as impressive as the Bridge. I also have a theory that the Bridge is a parallel to the Tower of Babel. Which brings us to the idea of a divided world unable to see past the differences between societies, and through that losing the power that unity used to give it.

Showing the world where difference is shunned and leads to ostracism, where people that come from different places fail to acknowledge each other’s humanity and refuse to embrace their differences, where two species fail to accept the other’s way of living and deny the enemy their humanity/monstrosity, the Second Citadel storyline is offering a greater value as an endgoal: embracing difference and diversity, seeing strength in what sets us apart from each other, and recognizing that we all complete one another, like the four aspects of our own being, like four pillars upon which the sky rests. Deny one single pillar’s importance and wait for it to come crashing down on you. It says: to know true strength, we should welcome any and all experience, all of the unique perspectives, celebrate the differences that make our shared existence so much richer and make us so much more capable to deal with challenges of life. Strength in unity - not in uniformity.

#this got long and i blame kabert for their splendid writing #the penumbra podcast #tpp #second citadel #analysis tag

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fonulyn · 4 years ago

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hi :) do you have any advice for new teachers? i suddenly got my first teaching position and i'm kind of freaking out O_O

ohhhh congratulations!! :D ah and try to take deep breaths and calm down, I’m sure you’ll do great!

the advice kind of would depend on how old kids you’re teaching (if kids at all?) because it’s quite different working with the little ones and with the teenagers, so. personally I find the smaller children a little intimidating and I’m glad I work with 13-19 year olds, because I can handle them much better :’D

but in general what I find is the most important thing about being a teacher is being fair to everyone. it’s impossible to actually like everyone you teach, especially if you work with teenagers when there’s always one of two who try their best to piss you off. but you’ve still got to treat them all the same, and give everyone the same opportunities for guidance and help. they’re kids. i’m the adult. i’ve got to see past the spitting on floors and yelling at me how math sucks.

and usually the kids will notice you’re being fair and not playing favorites and they’ll respect that.

another thing i’ve learned is that often even when you feel like screaming and stomping your foot and throwing things, the best thing can be to smile and brush it off with a joke. like... pick your battles? don’t make a huge deal out of everything, so then when you do make a big deal out of an actually important issue it then actually sticks with them. i’m not gonna yell at them for making a paper airplane out of their exam, because it’s not a huge deal. but i am going to give them a stern talking to about for example offensive and homophobic language. because i think it’s a more important life lesson for them in the end.

most kids are really good kids. they might act tough, and act out, but in the end they’re good kids. and i love working with them. that moment when you actually get through to someone who has done nothing but give you troubles, even for a second? amazing.

some teachers have their teacher-me and private-me and that is absolutely legit, that’s valid, if you feel like you need the separation then it’s your choice. personally for me, i can’t make that distinction. i find it easiest to be myself. be as honest and as genuine as possible. it doesn’t mean i’m gonna open up about everything, god no. but like. they see when you’re particularly tired, so admitting to it usually is the better call than trying to pretend you’re not.

i’ve gone into the classroom with red rimmed eyes after crying, and all I got was “O_O are you okay???” when i was afraid they’d make fun of me. usually when they sense it’s serious, they won’t make it worse.

but like this is where your personality comes into play a lot? I know colleagues who are amazing teachers but who are very strict in the classroom and they need to focus on the subject at hand all the time. wherein me? i go off on a tangent all the time, we’ll talk about things that definitely weren’t in the lesson plan at all. i can laugh at myself, and i don’t mind if they laugh at me as long as it’s all in good fun and not mean.

and if they piss me off i can honestly tell them that c’mon, you’re being little shits right now, can’t you see how there’s smoke coming out of my ears :’D usually it gets a laugh and they do behave better.

idk i just really love this job?? i’m getting all teary-eyed here thinking about all the amazing students i’ve had :’D

OH AND one thing i learned like two years into teaching; you don’t always need to have every answer at hand immediately! i used to stress about it a lot, and felt that it made me less respectable and less of a teacher if i couldn’t answer every single question they asked. i even tried to make up an answer on the spot sometimes, until i talked with my dad (who was a teacher too lmao, as was my mom), and he was all “you’re still the one who knows the most about this in the room. they won’t mind if you need to google something.”

and you know what? they won’t! nowadays if they ask me what the price for a gram of gold is I can say “i do not know. i will look it up!” and then i will inform them when i’ve acquired that knowledge. if it’s a quick search i can do it while they’re working on some assignments or whatever, if it’s a more complex topic i’ll tell them “we’ll talk about this tomorrow” and they always accept it. they always just nod and when we get back to it they’re glad they got the info they wanted.

it’s okay not to know everything. and it’s okay to admit to your flaws. in the end they will remember the countless things you did tell them without looking them up and a few “oh man i have no idea!”s in between won’t do anything. except maybe make you look more human, idk?

and it’s good to be flexible if you can. if something you planned out for a lesson isn’t working, it’s always good to have a plan b. i once tried a different approach during a chem lesson but they hated it so we stopped halfway through and just played hangman with names of chemical compounds for a bit and it was good.

sometimes they just need an adult to be present so they can rant about something that bothers them, and if some physics has to be set aside for that? fine. we can learn newton’s third law tomorrow if today you need to talk about how our government is handling immigration.

and one important thing: go easy on yourself, okay?

not every lesson is a great lesson. sometimes it’s enough that you got them to do anything at all. sometimes nothing you plan will work out. sometimes there are lessons when everything goes wrong, no one learns anything, and all those great plans you made just flew out of the window. but it happens. move on. the next lesson will be better! the next day will look up.

i had this one group of 14-year-olds once, and there were two kids who hated me. it took us literally three months where every single lesson was a struggle. but after that it got better. by the end of the semester, there were some absolutely great lessons too. once i had a lesson so bad i cried for fifteen minutes straight afterwards bc nothing worked out. but you know what? the next lesson for the same group was great.

i love this job. it’s amazing. i wouldn’t want to do anything else. but there are bad days and it’s fine. it happens. don’t beat yourself up for it. talk to someone about it, or come tell me about it if it helps ;) but then move on and it’ll get better. you’re not a bad teacher if you have a bad lesson or a few.

and the good lessons? when you see how someone finally gets a particularly difficult topic? when a kid who has panicked every math lesson suddenly gets something right and gives you the biggest smile? when someone who thought they’d never pass a single math course gets through them all? i don’t think there’s anything as rewarding as that.

and the lessons when you get to laugh with them, work with them, everything goes as you planned and they’re excited about the topic and you get to actually enjoy every second of the lesson? that’s. that’s why i do this, seriously. those lessons feel like they’re not work at all. and there are surprisingly many of them.

have i mentioned i love this job?? because i do.

i’m sorry i rambled so much i ...don’t know if any of this is actually good or useful advice for you?? but feel free to drop me a message anytime if you need some support!! you’ve got this! :D

#i ramble oh man #Anonymous #ask and i shall answer #replies #chatty chat chat #teaching

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iliketowrite1996 · 5 years ago

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Lunch Buddies

Part 1:https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/614617294578089984/his-best-girl

Part 2: https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/614969499334197248/meet-the-music-teacher

TRIGGER WARNINGS AND THEMES- abandoning child, mentioned of dead spouse, moving and starting over, single parenthood

‘’Jasmine. What on earth are you doing?’’

The ten year old freezes in her spot at the sound of Steve’s voice, before looking up at her dad with wide, brown eyes.

‘’Um… I am making you lunch,’’ she responds, slapping yet another slice of bread on top of the sandwich that she is constructing.

‘’Alright, Jasmine. What did you do?’’

‘’I did nothing!,’’ she insists, stepping over to the cabinet and getting out some tupperware and a top.

‘’I guess this wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you got your math test back yesterday, hm?’’

Jasmine looks at Steve with wide eyes before sighing, looking to the floor, and trudging over to her book bag. She returns with her math paper… a giant red ‘’F’’ in the top, right by her name.

‘’Jasmine, come on now,’’ Steve sighs, shaking his head slightly as Jasmine constitutes stare at the floor, ‘’What happened?’’

‘’I studied, daddy,’’ she looks up at Steve, big, brown eyes filling with tears, ‘’Honest, I did! But when it was time for the test, I got so confused.’’

‘’Have you asked Mr. Isaac to help you?’’

‘’Yes,’’ she wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, ‘’But I don’t get it the way that he explains it, either. Deshaw tried to help me and Alexandria tried to help me, but it’s still so confusing.’’

‘’Okay, don’t cry, come here,’’ Steve says, allowing Jasmine to lay her head on his shoulder like she used to do when she was little, ‘’Don’t cry. Everyone makes mistakes.’’

‘’But I KEEP failing!,’’ she eventually wails, and Steve pulls her in for a hug, smoothing her curls down as he does so.

‘’Shh. Sweetheart, calm down. WhenI was your age, I didn’t understand science, and I had trouble with social studies. Your grandma had to get me a tutor. And, you know what? That’s exactly what we are going to do. I’m going to ask Tony if his intern will tutor you.’’

‘’Peter,’’ Jasmine lifts her head up and looks at Steve, continuing to wipe her tears, ‘’From church?’’

‘’Yes, your crush,’’ Steve teases to which Jasmine giggles.

‘’Okay. Do you think that he can help me pass math?’’

‘’I’m sure that if he can’t, he knows someone that will. So, what do you say, kiddo? Ready to get yourself a tutor?’’

‘’You bet,’’ she nods, looking at his lunch, then the time on the clock, ‘’Daddy, we have to get to school! I want to give my music teacher her bracelet that I made her!’’

‘’You’re right. Grab your boots and let’s hit it.’’

September has given way to fall, and Steve and Jasmine crunch the leaves under their feet as they make their way to the school building. Steve has to drag Jasmine along a bit, seeing as they got in late from church last night. But she perks up when he brings up her music teacher again.

‘Daddy, she is so nice! Yesterday, we got to makeup songs about school supplies,’’Jasmine reveals, sticking her arm out so that her dad so that he can guide her across the street through the crowds of people coming and going.

When the duo makes it to the school, they share their customary high-five before going their separate ways.

‘’Good morning, Mr. Rogers,’’ you smile as you walk past him to your classroom.

‘’Good morning. And call me Steve,’’ he beams at your retreating form, ‘’I assume I’ll be seeing you today?’’

‘’Actually, we should be all good,’’ you turn around to face him as he comes closer, on the way to his class, ‘’Unless you just like seeing me.’’

‘’I-I, um, you know-,’’ Steve begins to sputter, causing you to giggle a bit.

‘’Steve, relax. I’m kidding. But I do thank you for being so kind to me these first few weeks. I’ll see you later,’’ you turn around, taking your key to unlock your classroom.

And Steve tries to ignore the slight pang of disappointment that accompanies that statement.

‘’Thank you so much for your help, Olivia,’’ Steve smiles as he high-fives the five-year-old, who beams in response.

‘’Thank you, Mr. Rogers,’’ she nearly whispers, following her kindergarten class into the hallway and back to there room

No sooner than the students leave is Steve interrupted while organizing for the next class to come in.

‘’Mr. Rogers.’’

Steve looks up from where he is placing materials on the tables in preparation for his next art class to see you at the door, dressed in a blouse and professional bottoms…

With a giant coffee stain on your shirt.

‘’Woah, what happened,’’ he questions as you enter, futility scrubbing at the stain with a damp paper towel.

‘’Fourth grader running down the hallway. Luckily, it’s ice coffee,’’ you huff, tossing the paper towel away, ‘’Um, I’m here because Jasmine said that you had a pen to get stains out. I was if I could borrow it?’’

‘’You know,’’ Steve chuckles, walking over to his desk to retrieve it for you, ‘’We’ve got to stop coming to each other when we need things only.’’

Since your arrival three weeks ago, you and Steve stop by each other's rooms frequently. After all, you’re right down the hall from each other.

He needed a stapler, you needed a case of pencils and couldn’t find the janitor. Mr. Smith. He needed to know what time the assembly started, and you needed help with the copy room printer that always jammed and he didn't mind, did he?

‘’Thanks,’’ you sigh in relief, scrubbing at the stain, ‘’I sense you’re prone to messes, too?’’

‘’Not me. Jazzy,’’ he shakes his head fondly, ‘’She’s always moving, always rushing. She gets that from me, but her mom always used to spill on herself, too.’’

‘’I see,’’ you smile gently, pressing the cap back onto the pen before giving it to Steve, ‘’Thank you, Mr. Rogers.’’

‘’Please, call me Steve. We’re cowowrkers,’’ he reminds you, and it takes everything you have in you to bite back the smile that is beginning to form on your lips.

Okay, okay.He’s cute. But you’re his co-worker, you just got here, and you’ve got a lot on your proverbial plate already.

‘’Oh, um, listen. I’d packed Jasmine some lasagna that I made last night, but DeShawn’s mother packed her lunch today. So, if you want, since we have the same planning period…’’

‘’I’d love to. We can eat in my class, okay?’’

‘’Okay,’’ Steve nods, shoving his hands in his pocket.

‘’I’ll see you at 12:30,’’ you agree, exiting his classroom and heading back to your own to prepare for your first graders from Ms. Wilson’s class.

Just in time to miss Steve’s fist pump.

And he doesn’t see you do the same thing in the hallway.

When you first moved to New York from Texas, it was for a fresh start. You’d parked your car, and moved in with your aunt and your uncle. Your uncle is the pastor at a local church, and he was more than happy to let you move into their house in New Jersey with them until you could get your bearings.

and he’d heard about the opening for the music teacher as a way for you to more easily get on your feet. In fact, you have a meeting with a landlord tomorrow to look at a one-bedroom apartment a few blocks from the school.

You’ve been taking time getting used to your new surroundings. Every day, you take a walk right before work, taking in your surroundings and casually absorbing people. On the weekends, you find one new restaurant to try with your ‘’restaurant buddy’’. After church, you say hi to one new person. At work, you make it a point to say hi to one new co-worker each day.

For a while, though,you seem to be making it a point to find any reason to talk to one Steve Rogers.

Steve is one hundred percent handsome, and very kind. He always has a smile on his face, he is so good with the students, and you can see how much he loves his daughter.

‘’Hi, mommy!’’

You’re broken out of your thoughts by a young kindergartner who is waving at you as she clutches a hall pass.

‘’Hey, honey, why aren’t you in class?’’

‘’Teddy got sick in our class bathroom and I’m going to the big kids’ bathroom,’’ she beams, feeling proud of herself.

‘’Oooh, that’s a big step! Now make sure you go and get right back to class, baby. Mommy’s gotta go get ready for ehr new class. And you go with Ms. Potts after school, I’ll pick you up from her classroom at 4:40, alright?’’

‘’Alright, mommy,’’she nods dutifully before trekking off up the hallway to the bathroom.

Your five-year-old daughter is your first, and only child. She started kindergarten here when you moved, and it’s taking a while, but she’s slowly coming out of her shell.

When your daughter was born, you had just finished college with a degree in teaching. Though her arrival was about five years ahead of your timeline, you were ecstatic. You’ve always wanted to be a mom, and this journey just began earlier than you expected. Her dad, your then-boyfriend, Darryl, was less than thrilled at the prospect of a new baby, but he agreed to be there.

That is, until he wasn’t. One day, the texts stopped being returned, the calls went unanswered, and he didn't drop by. A quick visit to his apartment confirmed your fear- only three months after your daughter’s birth, and he had decided that this was not for him. No conversation, no warning, nothing.

And had you not had your faith, your church family, and family and friends, you’re not exactly sure where you would be. The combined forces have helped you get through your first year of teaching, your move, apartment, hunting, and most importantly, raising your beautiful baby girl.

Your next class is milling in now, so you put on your best smile and greet the students, earning high-fives and hugs from the class of second graders.

And so begins another class.

‘’Hey, lunch buddy,’’ Steve appears at your doorway, right on time.

‘’Hey,’’ you smile at him, nodding for him to enter.

‘’I warmed it up for you, hope that’s okay,’’ he speaks, placing your lunch on your desk and pulling up a chair for you as you pull two bottles of water from your bag.

‘’Thanks for sharing with me,’’ you speak up, ‘’Otherwise it would have been peanut butter and jelly again.’’

‘’Hey, nothing wrong with a classic,’’ he grins at you, ‘’I forgot to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping… you look really nice today.’’

You’d woken up a little earlier today, so you took care with your hair, slicking it back into a bun and taking the time to gel down your edges. Your favorite, red jumpsuit is on, and you’ve got the red ballet flats to match.

‘’Thank you, Steve,’’ you return the gesture,completing his outfit.

You enjoy your lunch with Steve. The teacher lounge is great and everything, but you like quiet conversation during your lunch. So it’s nice to spend time with your teacher neighbor, and relax before your last two classes of the day, and glee club practice.

‘’So, how long have you been teaching here,’’ you ask after praying over your food, silently reveling in the taste of the pasta that he’s given you.

‘’About ten years. I was hired here the year before Jazzy was born. This is, uh, actually where I met her mom,’’ he reveals, a look that you don’t quite understand crossing his face before he shakes it off, ‘’How long have you been a teacher?’’

‘’Five years ago, I started out in Texas as a grade-school special education teacher. I’m dual-licensed,’’ you move back in your chair, looking out the window, ‘’It’s quite different going from having a classroom full of students that you’re with all day to only seeing students a few times a week for 45 minutes.’’

‘’I imagine it’s also really difficult to come here from Texas. Did you have any family?’’

‘’Yeah, I moved in with my aunt and uncle. They’ve been a great help, but I think I ‘m ready to head out on my own. With their help, of course,’’ you amend, tapping your fingers against the desk, ‘’I don’t know. I just like the feeling of being independent.’’

‘’Well, you still seem pretty independent to me. But, you know, if you'd find a place, you’ve got two people that’ll help you move in. You’re Jasmine’s favorite teacher. She talks about you non-stop at home.’’

‘’She’s wonderful,’’ you shake your head, laughing fondly, ‘’And very headstrong.’’

‘’Always has been,’’ he chuckles, ‘’Just like her mother.’’

Before you can respond to that, they’re calling you over the PA system, and lunch is cut short. Steve follows you out, allowing you to lock your class door and head to the office.

And giving you a minute to feel just a tad bit sour on missing the rest of your not-a-date-lunch-date with Steve.

After the glee club picks up, you’re exhausted. Thank goodness you’re aunt is making dinner tonight, because you plan on crawling straight into bed after dinner.

‘’Mommy!,’’ your daughter screams,rushing forward and leaping into your arms.

‘’Gey, you know we don’t get that loud in the school building. But I’m happy to see you,’’ you smooth down her flyaway curls, ‘’Girl, what did you do to your hair?’’

‘’We were discussing static electricity,’’ Pepper informs you, walking over holding a first grader and a kindergartener's hands. ‘’She was absolutely lovely and so well-behaved. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’’

‘’Okay,’’ you and your daughter nod before you take her to the parking lot, ready to head home.

‘’Mommy, are we having pizza for dinner again?’’

‘’No, we’re having whatever Auntie is making. And you’re going to be polite, even if you don’t like it. Understood?’’

‘’Yes, momma,’’ she nods, to unlock the car and place her in her booster seat before heading around to the driver’s side.

Your night time routine is, somehow, a bit more chaotic than your morning routine. Baby girls are always tired from school, your aunt is exasperated after dealing with high school students all day, your uncle is tired from whatever volunteer or service he has done that day, and you’re just tired. But you’ve got to feed your daughter, bathe her, do her hair, help with her homework, and send her off to sleep before working on your own planning.

‘’So, honey,’’ your aunt tells you as you send the resident kindergartner to the bathroom to wash her hands, ‘’I’ve got this great guy at church I’d like to set you up with.’’

‘’That’s gonna be a no from me,’’ you sneak a cucumber from the salad your uncle is making, causing him to playfully glare at you.

‘’Leave that girl alone,’’ your uncle jests.

‘’She’s a smart, lovely, beautiful young woman and he’s a good man!,’’ your aunt defends.

‘’I don’t have time for dating! We just got here, I need to put down roots first. Besides… I’m not even sure that I want to be dating right now.’’

In some ways you’re still reeling from your relationship with Darryl. And you’ve been on dates, but nothing serious.

‘’Oooh, have you got sights set on someone at work,’’ your aunt smirks, earning a groan from you, which she laughs heartily at, ‘’You do!’’

‘’My sights are not set on him, but he is attractive. He’s with someone, though, so… there that goes.’’

‘’And here goes your daughter, so pipe down,’’ your uncle whispers, knowing you hate discussing dating in front of her.

Soon, dinner is served and you're grateful to put the issue to bed.

When it’s time to tuck your daughter, she’s smiling at you as she strokes the curls of your hair.

‘’Your hair is pretty, mommy.’’

‘’Thank you, sweetheart. Your hair is pretty, too,’’ you respond, taking her hand and kissing it, ‘’Time for bed, ladybug.’’

‘’Okay. Good night, mommy.’’

‘’Good night, Olivia. Mommy loves you,’’ you speak.

Then, it’s time for you to head in for the night, leaving all thoughts of blind dates, school, work and Steve Rogers behind before drifting off to sleep.

DISCLAIMER- I own no rights to any Marvel characters, places, etc.

@ashanti-notthesinger @destinio1 @afraiddreamingandloving @starsshines-blog @airis-paris14 @syreanne @chaneajoyyy @90sinspiredgirl @shemiahsmelanin @zillmonger @skysynclair19 @marvelpotterlove @constantlycravingtheunknown @imaginewhoever @wakanda-inspired @pocmarvelworks @theunsweetenedtruth @dreampovx @adrioola21 @supremethunda @thisiskayesworld @mcusocialimagines @priya212 @kumkaniudaku @airis-paris14 @alexundefined @fonville-designs @dramaqueenamby @mellowjellow6 @oceanscorazon @nerd-lovely @fonville-designs @akimi-youngblood @yoyolovesbucky @fd-writes

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #black reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfic #black reader insert #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x reader imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x black!reader #single dad steve rogers #singledad!steverogers

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a-vintage-snake · 5 years ago

Text

That’s It, It’s Split

Pairing(s): Romantic Royality

First chapter - Previous chapter - Next chapter

Warnings: Abusive parenting, threats of violence, Remus centric stuff Characters: Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Character Thomas (For like a two lines)

Summary: Roman meets some unexpected new friends who have new information on his missing brother

Word Count: 9339 (I am so sorry)

Author’s Note: Man I hope you all like long ass chapters CAUSE I GOT CARRIED AWAY HAHAHAHAHA but hey I am happy I got this chapter out, cause I am super stoked for writing the next chapter! Who knows, maybe next chapter some familiar faces will return...

People who were asked to be tagged: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme, @bihighandgivinghighfives, @atticusfinchthelegend

If you want to be removed or added to the taglist, just ask!

Read on AO3

The second Roman pushed open the doors of the library Patton let out a delighted gasp beside him.

“Oh my goodness… So many books!” Patton squealed. He let go of Roman’s hand to run into the room. Roman smiled at the adorable way Patton’s eyes grew huge behind his glasses as he took everything in. He couldn’t blame him though. The library was massive, rows of rows of neatly lined up books in oaken bookcases so large you could only reach the top shelves if you climbed one of the high ladders that were scattered among the bookcases. Spiralling staircases led up to different storeys, the dark wood decorated with fading pictures of flowers, plants and trees. The high ceiling was painted to look like a night sky, dark blue paint showing off glittering constellations. Tall windows bathed the library in golden light. Scattered between the bookcases stood tattered sofas and worn desks, inviting you to sit down with a book for hours and hours.

The scent of thousand year old tomes drifted into Roman’s nose, and he smiled. Despite that he rarely had the chance to spent time in the library it was still one of his favourite places in the castle.

“I’ve never seen so many books in one place!” Patton twirled around to take in all the scenery. “It’s amazing!”

“It is…” Roman said softly as they walked into the library. He listened with half an ear to Patton as his fiancé ran to bookcases to inspect the tomes, chattering excitedly when he found one that he particularly liked. Roman inspected the library with a scrutinizing gaze. What had it been about this place that his brother spent so much time here? Remus had never been the scholarly type…

“That’s it. I give up.”

Roman jerked up at a loud cluttering sound. Remus, who had been sitting at his desk, had made a sweeping arm movement and thrown all the contents of his desk on the floor. His inkwell shattered and tainted the carpet with a deep black stain.

“Remus what the heck!” Roman rose from his own desk to inspect the damage. “Why did you do that? Mom and dad will be mad if they see-”

His sentence trailed off when Roman looked at Remus, who had buried his face into his crossed arms, his shoulders taut.

“…Remus?” Roman frowned. “Are you okay?”

“They’re right…” Remus muttered with a sniff, much to Roman’s horror. “They’re all right… I guess I am just dumb…”

“What! No! Of course you’re not!” Roman said.

“Yes I am!” Remus lifted his head up, his eyes shiny. “If I weren’t I would actually GET this stupid stuff!” Angrily he gestured at the papers on the floor before he hid his face away in his arms again. Roman stared flabbergasted. He had never seen his twin so… so… sad before. Usually Remus was the one who pulled Roman away from his homework, grin on his face and a thousand plans for weird pranks on his mind. The castle staff had quickly learned that the 10-year-old princes were double trouble. Luckily for the princes, most of them were still swayed by their sweet faces and innocent looking eyes. Roman was quite proud of their innocent expressions- Remus and him had practised them to perfection on Roman’s insistence.

“Come on, Rem…” Roman punched his twin’s arm. “You know that’s not true! Could a dumb person ever come up with pranks as good as yours?”

No response.

“I mean,” Roman tried again. “Nailing nanny’s slippers to the floor was brilliant! Did you see the look on his face when he put them on, tried to walk away but couldn’t and fell over? That was so funny!”

A soft snort was heard. Roman grinned. Success!

“Or that time you read all about swamp monsters, so we covered ourselves in algae from the moat and scared the kitchen girls?” Roman continued.

“That was a good one…” Remus lifted his head a little, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah!” Roman had to stifle a snort in his hand. “Or how about when you had the idea to sew all the wigs of the lackeys together?”

Remus sat up, his lips pulled into a wide grin that showed off the gap between his front teeth.

“They tried to find their wigs, but there was only… THE ULTRA WIG!!” He yelled, raising his fists towards the sky. Both boys collapsed into giggles.

“Well… I guess I am pretty great.” Remus said proudly after they managed to get their laughter under control. However his look darkened when he looked down on the papers on the floor. “But then why can’t I just understand these stupid sums?”

Roman picked up one of the papers that were strewn all over the floor. Neatly written numbers their teacher had written out for them were crammed between Remus’ hastened scrawl where he tried to make sense of what was written down, and drawings of Remus stabbing the numbers with what looked like a large sharp knife. Clearly he had been frustrated for a while now.

Roman bit down on his bottom lip; he understood why. Divisions were hard. He had only gotten them after his teacher taught the class a trick to make it easier. But Remus had been pulled out of the class a while ago and given a private tutor. Apparently his brother had been ‘too disruptive of a presence for the other children’, whatever the heck that meant.

But… He could totally teach him that trick too!

“Scooch over.” Roman said as he sat down next to Remus on his chair and put the paper down in front of them. No time to get his own chair, he had teaching to do! Remus looked confused, but made room anyway. “Okay bro, this is what you do...”

For a while Roman tried his best to explain the trick. Remus didn’t understand it as quickly as Roman had. Luckily he knew his brother very well, so he added a little part to make it more interesting.

“So if you cut the witch up into ninety-eight pieces with your axe, and separate all those bits into neat piles of two, how many piles do you have?” Roman asked. Remus scrunched up his nose in deep thought. Roman practically saw him churning the math over with the trick he was taught.

“…Forty-nine?” Remus answered hesitantly.

“Yes!” Roman whooped. “Yes Rem that’s exactly right!”

Remus’ eyes widened and his mouth fell open, before he laughed and jumped up from his chair with a victorious yell.

“YES!! I did it!! Take that, math!” Remus screeched. “You ain’t got shit on me!!”

“Remus!” Roman gasped. “That’s a bad word!”

“I know,” Remus’ eyes glinted. “Shall I say it again…?”

“Noooooooo…” Roman snickered.

“Too bad! Shit!” Remus cackled when Roman nearly fell off the chair laughing. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT, SHIT, SHIIIIII-!!”

“What the devil is going on here?!”

Both boys immediately fell silent at the shocked outcry. Without them noticing their mother had entered their shared room. Quickly Roman and Remus scrambled to stand and guiltily try to hide the mess around Remus’ desk. Their mother had already seen however.

“What on earth is this?” She hissed while making her way over to her sons. She took in the black stain on the carpet, and then turned her furious glare to Remus, who shrunk into himself. “What did you do, you horrendous boy? Don’t you make enough of a mess of our lives as it is?”

“Well, I-” Remus tried to say.

“Don’t interrupt me! Ungrateful little freak!” She grabbed her son’s arm in a vice grip and shook him hard. “Maybe we should let you live in the stables, next to all the other pigs who can’t clean up their mess!”

“Mom wait! It was me!” Roman rushed out. Their mother immediately turned her attention on him. “I knocked the inkwell off the desk, like a doofus! It’s not Remus’ fault!”

Their mother’s eyes narrowed, while Remus’ eyes went almost comically wide. Roman felt his heart beat in his throat. Slowly queen Nadia released her Remus’ arm.

“Why were you at his desk?” His mother asked Roman.

“I was helping him… With his math homework.” Roman muttered.

“Y-Yeah!” Remus said, rubbing his painful arm. “I understand the math now, mom! I can do it!”

Queen Nadia looked between her sons, before letting out an impatient sigh.

“Remus, you won’t learn anything if you let Roman do your homework for you.”

Roman sputtered. “What? I wasn’t doing that!”

“He wasn’t!” Remus said. “He just showed me a neat trick, I can do the math now!”

“Oh really?” Queen Nadia raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Then tell me, what’s seventy-eight divided by three?”

“It’s… It’s…” Remus stammered. He pulled at his hair in frustration. “I know it, I do, I just need-”

“Roman, what’s seventy-eight divided by three?” Their mother turned to him.

“Twenty-six.” Roman answered automatically.

“I knew that too! I did!” Remus yelled.

“Apparently not, seeing as you took so long to answer me.” Their mother shook her head in disappointment. “Go back to your homework, the both of you. Individually and quietly.”

Her tone left nothing up to the debate. Both the princes reluctantly sat down at their respective desks and continued their sums in silence.

The next morning Roman had to helplessly watch as servants moved Remus’ bed and belongings from their shared room.

“But I don’t want a room of my own!” Remus wailed, struggling in the grip of his new governess.

“Me neither!” Roman screamed and he turned to his parents who overlooked the move. “Please let him stay! I-I’ll never do his homework again, I promise!”

“Take Remus away, he’s late for his lesson.” King Augusto waved the governess away, and the woman dragged his screaming brother away from the room. Before Roman could move to run after them his father placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Roman, please,” His father’s voice was soft. “I know this may seem harsh, but it’s the best for the both of you.”

“But… But…” He couldn’t take it anymore; the tears started to flow freely down his cheeks.

“Oh honey…” His mother’s arms embraced him and picked him up. Roman clung to her and cried into her hair while his parents rubbed his back soothingly.

“You must understand Roman,” His father said. “You are the crown prince! You have responsibilities, and your brother keeps distracting you from them.”

“I just helped him with sums…” Roman hiccupped.

“It’s sweet that you want to help him,” His mother said. “But he can’t be dependant on you forever. You two have your own lives, and I promise you’re doing him a favour by letting him discover his own path.”

“You can still spend time with him whenever you don’t have lessons or homework.” His father added.

Roman sniffled. “Promise…?” He whispered.

“Promise, sweetie.” Queen Nadia pressed a kiss to his temple. “Would we lie to you?”

Lost in his memories Roman trailed after Patton, who rushed ahead of him completely enamoured. Patton was so entranced by the library that he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps from around a bookcase until he crashed into the person.

Roman was startled from his thoughts when he heard a loud clatter and saw his fiancé nose-dive down, pulling the man he crashed into and the large stack of books he was carrying along with him. They unceremoniously fell in a heap on the floor, Patton on top of the other, knocking all the air out of the man’s lungs.

“Oh-Oh my goodness I am so sorry!!” Patton scrambled up and started gathering the books that had scattered over the floor while simultaneously trying to help the other man up.

“My love, have you hurt yourself?” Roman hurried to the pair.

“Holy shit Lo, are you okay?” A fourth voice said, the owner of said voice appearing from around the bookcase.

“I’m quite alright, Virgil,” The man sat up on his knees and adjusted his rectangular glasses that had been knocked off his nose. “Let me clear up these books. They were in a specific order.”

Curtly the man pulled the books from Patton’s hands and started to stack them in their original order. Patton held still, his hands held up in that wary position of someone torn between wanting to help and not wanting to upset the other further.

“Uuuh, Logan?” The fourth person spoke up. Roman recognized the short man dressed in purple and black robes as the court sorcerer. “Maybe that’s a bit rude…? Just saying.”

The man- Logan apparently- glanced up from his task a little miffed to look at Roman and Patton, showing off bright blue eyes behind the square glasses. They stood in stark contrast with his dark skin and wavy black hair.

“Oh, I see,” Logan said upon seeing who he was snubbing help from. “Pardon me- Let me clear up these books, your Highnesses.”

“That’s not-! Never mind…” Virgil sighed, before turning to Roman and Patton. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, that’s alright!” Patton beamed. “I would probably make it even messier anyway! We’ll get out of your hair!”

Patton turned to Roman as Logan gave a confused little pat to his hair. “On with exploring?” Patton chirped.

Roman felt his heart sink as he and Patton walked further. Why had he thought that a clue would magically present itself by coming here? How could he know what attracted Remus to this place?

“Excuse me, prince Roman?”

Stopping in his tracks, Roman turned back to the questioning voice to find that the dark-haired librarian had called out to him of all people. “Yes?”

“If I may be so bold to ask,” Logan said as he stood up from the floor, balancing the newly stacked books in his arms. “I was wondering when your brother will return home?”

Roman’s eyes widened. He barely bit back a gasp of surprise. Was this his clue? “Why do you ask?” He said.

“Well, I brought in some new books that I thought would be interesting for him, but he still hasn’t seen them,” Logan answered. “His travels normally don’t last this long, do they?”

“…No. No they don’t.” Roman walked back to the two men, curiosity awakening inside his chest. He took in the tall librarian from head till toe. Logan didn’t seem to notice, he was busy piling the books on a desk.

“So when will he return?” Logan asked. Roman felt the hollow feeling in his chest deepen at the question.

“I’m afraid those books will remain unread for now, my literary fellow,” He managed. “Remus, he…” Roman swallowed thickly. “He’s missing.”

“Missing?” Logan frowned, looking up from his task. “What happened?��

Before he could answer, Roman felt a soft hand slip into his own. Patton walked up next to him, and gently squeezed his hand with a soft smile.

“Remus has gone to the Desolate Mountains.” Patton quietly continued for Roman, which made him want to kiss Patton in sheer gratitude. “He what?” Virgil’s face drained of the little colour he had, making the dark marks around his eyes stand out even more. “You mean he actually went?”

Roman’s attention immediately snapped to the court sorcerer. “What do you mean, ‘he actually went’?” he asked sharply. Virgil flinched at the sudden cutting tone thrown at him.

“Last time I saw him,” Virgil faltered. “He was babbling nonsense about wanting to kill the warlock-”

“Last time you saw- You KNEW about this??” Roman ripped his hand from Patton’s grasp. “You knew and didn’t think of telling anyone?!” Fury swept up inside Roman. Someone else had known all along. If Roman had someone who would have backed up his story, believed him, they could have gone after his brother months ago. They could have… Could have…

“I didn’t think he would actually-!” Virgil tried.

“YOU ARE NOT HERE TO THINK!!” Roman roared at him. He didn’t care that Virgil backed away from him, holding up his hands in a failing soothing gesture. He didn’t care that Patton grasped his arms to keep him from advancing further on the man, or that Logan tried to step between the two of them. He couldn’t focus on anything else but the dull thrum in his ears, and the cowering sorcerer before him. “You are here to SERVE AND PROTECT OUR FAMILY-” “Roman, honeybee, please stop-!”

“YOU FAILED AT THE ONE JOB YOU WERE HIRED FOR!!”

“Your Highness, calm down please!” Logan stepped between him and Virgil. “I’m sure we can talk this over-”

With a mighty push, Roman shoved Logan aside. The librarian tumbled to the ground, but Roman didn’t care. He tore himself free from Patton’s grasp and stormed to the shorter man, fuming. Virgil’s eyes started to glow purple and he summoned shadows to his hands, the dark energy crackling in the air. Roman grabbed a fistful of Virgil’s robes, raised his fist and-

“THAT IS ENOUGH!!”

Everyone’s head snapped towards Logan, who had scrambled up from the ground. He was breathing heavily, his glasses standing askew on his nose.

“We are in a library, for goodness’ sake!” Logan snarled. “Have a little respect!”

Roman stared at the librarian, rooted to his spot. He then looked down at the man he held up by his collar. Virgil’s eyes were still glowing a vibrant purple, but that did nothing to hide the tinge of fear in them. Roman released Virgil’s cloak and backed away like had burned himself.

“I- I am so sorry, I didn’t-” He stammered. “I don’t- I don’t know what came over me-” Horrified Roman looked at his own hands. What on earth was happening to him?

Looking at the three men, all in various states of shaken up, Logan sighed, straightened his cravat and adjusted his glasses.

“I think,” He said calmly. “We could all use a cup of tea.”

Red-hot shame burned up Roman’s cheeks as the little group followed Logan through the library. He didn’t dare to take his eyes away from the ground, even when they climbed up several stairs to the higher levels of the library, and Patton was hugging his arm while trying to catch his eyes. Roman couldn’t answer his fiancé’s concerned gaze though. Not when he acted so shamefully in front of him. What kind of prince was he?

“Here we are,” Logan said in front of them, interrupting Roman’s spiral of guilt. The librarian opened a small door hidden between two bookcases. “Do come in, everyone.”

Stepping through the door, Roman finally lifted his head to look around. The room he just entered was an attic, large windows overhead showing off the summer sky. Every bit of a wall was hidden behind star charts and papers full of constellation drawings and notes written in a neat handwriting. Several stands were scattered among the room, displaying several models of the solar system. A spiralling iron staircase led up to a loft where a large telescope proudly stood underneath an open skylight.

“What is this place?” Patton asked, his voice full of wonder.

“My work space,” Logan answered, as he cleared up a big table in the middle of the room, overflowing with notebooks and papers. “I’m a scholar; I study the stars and the possible life beyond them.”

“I thought you were a librarian?”

“I am too. In exchange for the usage of the equipment here, I help maintain the library,” Logan moved armfuls of papers away. “It is quite a good arrangement. I wouldn’t be able to afford half the material needed for proper studying otherwise.”

“Oh here, let me help you with that!” Patton released Roman’s arm to help with clearing the table. This left Roman standing with Virgil. Both men tensed, and Virgil awkwardly tried to avoid the other’s eyes. Before Roman could think of anything to break the tension, Virgil muttered ‘we came here for tea right’ before quickly walking over to the other side of the room where a table with a kettle stood next to small sink. Roman was left standing by the door, feeling like an idiot and unsure of what to do. He decided to keep himself busy by looking at the star charts.

Virgil filled the kettle up, and lifted up a tiny jar without a lid from below the desk. A small purple flame was nestled at the bottom of the jar; it’s flames crackled softly in the tense air.

Patton stopped next to Virgil, arms full of papers. “What is that?” He asked curiously as he stared at the purple flame.

“Oh this?” Virgil said as he placed the kettle on the little fire. “An invention of my own. The flames are hot, but do not burn anything that it comes in touch with. Thought it might be useful for Logan cause-” Virgil looked up into Patton’s curious eyes, and coughed a little embarrassed. “You know… Books are flammable…” He finished lamely.

“That is incredible.” Patton said breathlessly. “You must be so talented!”

Virgil’s cheeks flared up. “It’s okay I guess…” He mumbled. “I mean, I only managed one so far since it’s so difficult to make, and haven’t been able to replicate it ever since, so I figured it was just a lucky shot-”

“Now don’t you dare talk bad about yourself, young man!” Patton said sternly.

“…I think we’re the same age-?”

“You’ve already made such an amazing thing! You should be-” Patton’s gaze flicked to something moving on Virgil’s shoulder. “ProaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

Roman, who had been inspecting a star model, shocked up at his fiancé high pitched screaming to see Patton dropping all the papers and nearly hop skipping to get away as fast as possible from a startled Virgil. “What happened??” He said as he quickly made his way over to Patton.

“SPIDER!” Patton screeched as he jumped into Roman’s arms. “SPIDER!!” He screamed again while pointing at Virgil. Following his love’s shaking finger, Roman saw what had spooked Patton so bad. Crawling on Virgil’s shoulder was quite possibly the largest tarantula Roman had ever seen. The arachnid was about as big as Roman’s hand, and had a dark purple colouring. Right now it appeared to have frozen in alarm at the sudden screaming.

Virgil followed Patton’s pointing as well, and his eyes widened in realization. “Oh, no no no! It’s alright!” Virgil gently picked up the spider from his shoulder, and now Roman felt a little queasy too when Virgil held the beast up in both hands. “This is just Romeo! He’s a good spider! He won’t do anything! He’s not even an ordinary spider, he’s-” Virgil stopped. Romeo the spider had taken one glance at Roman, and immediately took up a defensive position, letting out tiny hissy sounds and squatted on his long legs. Virgil immediately cupped him close to his chest. “No! Bad Romeo! No face jumping today!”

“He jumps on FACES?!” Patton shrieked.

“Only when I’m threatened,” Virgil answered absent-mindedly, which did exactly nothing to make Patton feel better. Virgil let a short stream of curses, before he quickly held open his cloak. “Come on Romeo, better hide. Yes, I know it’s not fun!” Virgil said when the arachnid again made short hissy sounds. “But it can’t be helped right now. Come on…”

Roman could swear that he heard the spider make soft grumbling noises, but the tarantula reluctantly crawled underneath the soft fabric.

“There, he’s gone,” Virgil said as he closed his cloak. “You can look again.”

Patton carefully peeked from Roman’s neck where he had hidden his face. Shakily he sagged in relief when he couldn’t spot the creepy crawly death dealer anywhere.

“Oh dear John that was scary…” Patton said in a trembling voice. “Uuhh, sorry for screaming there kiddo, I’m just- Terribly afraid of spiders!”

“Oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Virgil said.

A short cough caught everyone’s attention. Logan, who had witnessed the whole ordeal silently, looked like he felt a migraine coming on.

“Can we please have that tea now?” He said while rubbing his temples with his fingers.

A short while after the four men sat down at the cleared table, steaming cups of tea in front of them. Patton was still a bit rattled, Virgil steadily avoided looking at Roman and Roman himself sat stiffly, holding the cup between his hands like it was his last line of sanity holding him together.

“Well then,” Logan said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I think we can all agree that we figuratively started off on the wrong foot.”

“Understatement of the year.” Virgil muttered under his breath, making Roman wince. Logan gave him a warning glare.

“If we got off on the wrong foot,” Patton said with small smile. “Maybe we should take some steps to remedy that?”

Logan stared ahead, his face blank, yet his eyes betrayed the pain he was in. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

“I’m just going to,” Logan muttered. “Figuratively let that pass by. Anyway!” He said in a normal volume. “What brings you to my library? Also how come that our prince going missing isn’t widespread news?”

“We only realized today that he was truly missing,” Roman answered. He hesitated a second before he continued. “…A friend told me that Remus came to the library often, so I hoped to… I don’t know, find a clue here I guess?” Roman let his head hang in shame. Now Patton knew he had brought him here under false circumstances. He truly was the worst fiancé.

“Oh honeycakes!” Patton said. “Why didn’t you say so? We could have been detectives together!”

Bewildered Roman turned to Patton. “You’re not… Mad?” He asked incredulously.

“Why would I be mad about that, silly?” Patton giggled, and gently booped Roman’s nose. Amazed Roman entwined their hands together. Honestly, what did he do to deserve such kindness?

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, your Highness,” Logan said, interrupting the moment. “If his Grace left some kind of hint of his whereabouts behind, I have yet to find it. But it is true that he visited the library quite frequently.”

“Did he come here for a specific reason? Or for some special kind of books?”

“No. Despite his broad interests, the books only seemed to interest him occasionally,” Logan said thoughtfully. “I mean, take his last visit for example-”

In Logan’s eyes there would never be anything more beautiful than a perfectly organized bookcase. With a satisfied smile he slid the last book into his rightful place, and he took a step back to inspect his hard work. Very well done, if he said so himself.

Content Logan turned away from the shelf to continue on with the next bookcase, but when he turned he was greeted by an upside down grin.

“Hey nerd!” The owner of said grin cheerfully said.

“Good afternoon, your Grace.” Logan answered, observing the prince’s upside down state. Remus had his knees hooked into one of the bookcase’s ladders. “How long have you been hanging like that?”

“A while! Boy do you absorb yourself in a task! You didn’t even notice when I climbed up here!” Remus shrugged playfully, his face red and sweating. “Hey, do you think my head will explode if I hang like this for too long? Decorate these books with brain goo?” Remus giggled as he threw his arms wide. “Splat! All new paint for free!”

“That would be an unlikely occurrence. However,” Logan said as Remus let his arms drop in disappointment. “Being flipped over like that makes it harder for you to breath, heart problems may arise due to the increased blood flow, and your vision may experience permanent damage because of the added pressure on your eyes.”

“Neat!” Remus whispered, his eyes sparkling. “How long ya gotta dangle like this for that to work? Nevermind, we’ll just test it now!”

“That seems hardly healthy for you,” Logan answered.

“Oh come on, living science experiment in the making here! Isn’t that like your stuff? What kind of scholar are you?”

“The astronomy kind, your Grace, not the biology kind. Besides, today I’m here for my librarian duties.”

“Ugh, bore-snore!” Remus groaned. “Unethical science experiments are WAY better! What’s so fun about books anyway?”

“Well,” Logan said, knowing exactly how to distract the prince. “We do have a fascinating new book in about octopi.”

“REALLY!?” Remus gasped, wiggling his knees free excitedly. “Holy fuck, I gotta see that! Lemme just-!”

“Your Grace, WAIT-!” Logan started, but it was too late as Remus as elegantly as a rock thrown through a window fell on the ground with a thud. He sprung back up however before Logan could even ask if he was hurt.

“I’m okay! Whooo, headrush!” Remus snickered as he dizzily grabbed onto Logan’s shoulders. Logan diligently held the swaying prince up on his feet. “Alright nerd, show me the nerd book!”

Ten minutes later Logan was back on his task of organizing the bookcases, but occasionally threw glances at prince Remus who had sat himself down at one of the desks. He had yanked the book from Logan’s hands with an excited wiggle and was currently drawing furiously in a sketchbook, copying the pictures and diagrams of the squid with a nearly manic glee. His brow was furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out of his mouth.

Momentarily distracted by the sight Logan accidentally knocked over a pile of books that were still waiting to be organized off the desk. “Oh bother.” Muttered Logan, as he quickly gathered them off of the ground.

“You know,” the prince said, looking up from his sketching. “I don’t think I ever heard you curse! It’s always ‘oh dear’ or ‘good heavens’ with you! What gives, Geek Squad?”

“I don’t make a habit out of cursing.” Logan answered distractedly.

“But aren’t you tired of being nice?” Remus asked. “Don’t you just wanna go ape shit sometimes?”

“I hardly see how monkey feces applies to this situation.”

Logan restacked the picked up books and looked up to ask Remus if the book was to his liking, only to find the prince staring at him intently.

“As your prince,” Remus said, more serious in tone than Logan had ever heard him speak. “I order you to say a swearword, right here, right now.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, and adjusted his glasses with a sigh.

“…Well that’s just fucking inconvenient.” He said.

Remus’ eyes widened and his mouth fell open, before he burst out into wild, delighted cackling. Nearly choking on his own laughter Remus fell from his chair, screeching gleefully while rolling over the floor. In a minute Logan would remind Remus that he was in a library, and gently ask him to be quiet. But for now Logan just allowed himself a small, fond smile as he watched the laughing prince.

It was hard not to smile along with the story. Patton let out a small chuckle next to him, and even Virgil huffed out a short laugh. Roman regarded the stoic librarian with different eyes. So that’s why Remus came here so often…

“You were never… Bothered by his unusual questions or requests?” Roman asked hesitantly. He knew Remus had a tendency to frighten away people with his interest in the macabre. Logan however only shrugged.

“Hardly. He may be unconventional, but unconventional people have made some of the most amazing discoveries in our world’s history. So who am I to judge?”

Roman felt the vague urge to offer this man a hug. “I’m glad my brother found a friend in you.” He warmly said instead. Logan sputtered, his already dark cheeks turning several shades warmer.

“I am unsure if he saw me as a friend…” Logan said uncertainly. “I’m told that I’m… Not very good with friendship.”

“Oh hey, I’m sure that’s not true!” Patton said.

“Virgil only realized we were friends after I explicitly stated it at one of his ritually based conventions of supernatural conjuring.” Logan deadpanned.

“It was a coven gathering!” Virgil nearly yelled. “We were trying to exchange new magic! You were only supposed to bring a book! Seriously Lo, learn how to read a room!”

“How could I possibly read the room?” Logan questioned. “There was no text on the walls.”

“That is not-!” Virgil stopped himself and inhaled deeply. “Oh forget it…” He muttered.

“Well, uhm,” Roman said, trying his hardest not to laugh. “I believe he saw you as a friend, Logan!”

“…I hope so,” Logan said. “Truth be told, I have… quite missed him these past months.”

“Really?” Virgil asked incredulously before he could stop himself. Logan let out a sigh.

“Virgil, as we discussed many times, just because you don’t like the man doesn’t mean I have to dislike him as well.”

“You dislike my brother?” Roman asked the purple clad man. Virgil had the decency to look a little sheepish at the question.

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t exactly be thrilled either by someone who continuously screws up your magic experiments just because, and I quote, ‘why the fuck not?’ ” Virgil grumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“That-!” Roman started, pointing a finger at Virgil, who tensed, before he dropped his hand with a sigh. “That does sound like Remus, I’m so sorry.” Virgil looked up at him with a surprised look, but he shrugged.

“Eh, it’s not your fault. But thanks.” Virgil said with a brief flash of a crooked half smile. Guiltily Virgil glanced down again, anxiously twiddling his thumbs. “Look-” He started. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your brother… I honestly didn’t think that he would, you know…”

“No, it is I who should apologize to you,” Roman said sombrely. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you, or blamed you. That was very un-princely of me. The truth is… None of us thought Remus would be that reckless. I am more at fault for this mess than you, since I’m his brother.”

“Hey, I would freak out too out if my family would disappear.”

“It was still bad of me…” “Yeah, it was kind of a dick move,” Virgil agreed. “But… It’s cool. I understand.”

Both men shared a look across the table, the tension between them slowly ebbing away. Roman nearly sagged in relief when the sorcerer seemed to finally relax since they sat down.

“Come on, sweetie…” Patton patted Roman’s arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself! You couldn’t have known either!”

“I should have!” Roman pulled his fingers through his hair. “But I didn’t, and now my brother has gone into the lion’s den! Who knows what the warlock might do to him?!”

“You may not need to worry too much about that,” Logan said. “Technically we don’t even know if the warlock actually exists.”

“What do you mean?” Roman confusedly asked.

“I mean that we have no factual evidence of this figure’s reality. He might just be an overblown exaggeration of local folktales and rumours.”

“Oh, the warlock is real alright…” Virgil said darkly.

“How do you know that?” Logan asked. “Have you met him recently?”

Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers fidgeting nervously with his cloak’s sleeve. “Well, no, obviously,” He muttered, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “…But I have a feeling-”

“Saying fiction is fact based on feelings is bad science, Virgil,” Logan adjusted his glasses. “The real fact is that no one has ever seen this supposed warlock. We have documents stating a witch once lived in the mountains, but she appeared to have left a long time ago. If the warlock is actually real and not a blatant falsehood, shouldn’t we have gotten some actual proof of his existence by now?”

“Then how do you explain all the disappearances?” Patton asked with a thoughtful frown.

“There are plenty ways of disappearing in the mountains that are not supernatural in any way. For example, you have rockslides, avalanches, abrupt weather changes to name a few,” Logan rambled from the top of his head. “There’s the wildlife of course, like mountain lions and bears. Not to mention the many fantastical creatures that are potentially dangerous! Not many have encountered trolls and lived to tell the tale. Dare I say, there’s a very high risk of endangering one’s life-”

“Lo,” Virgil interrupted urgently, holding a finger against his lips. “Not the time.” He very pointedly looked across the table, where Roman had balled his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared down at the table with a forlorn expression, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Patton had his arms thrown around him, rubbing his cheek against Roman’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

“Uuh, I mean,” Logan scrambled awkwardly, trying to salvage the situation. “These are all just statistics. Your brother could very well be alive!”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Maybe he… He just injured himself and he can’t properly travel back just yet.”

“Or!” Patton added. “He met someone in distress in the mountains and he is on a quest to rescue them!”

“Perhaps he made an amazing new discovery,” Logan smiled. “And he simply must document everything before returning.”

Roman lifted his head to give the people around the table a watery smile. “Thank you…” He quietly said.

Logan looked around to see everyone’s empty cup, and rose from his chair. “I’ll make us some more tea,” He said, before pausing to look hesitantly at Roman. “Would you… perhaps be interested in seeing the books I ordered for your brother?”

Roman let out a shuddery sigh, before he nodded. “Yeah… Yeah, I would like that.”

Time seemed to fly by as fast as the wind.

When Logan returned with more tea and two books under his arm, Roman flipped through the pages as if he could find his brother in the pressed paper. One book was a bundle of quite possibly the most gruesome folktales Roman had ever read, while the other showed the inner works of the body in more detail than Roman wanted to know. Despite the morbid subjects however, Roman only felt an aching kind of fondness while reading them. Both books carried so much of Remus in them, even when his brother had never read any of the pages, that it made the hollow feeling inside Roman’s chest feel a little less overbearing.

At that point Logan and Virgil started taking turns telling stories and anecdotes about Remus. Little slices of life Roman had spent so long ignoring, but now he eagerly listened to. Every new tale only made the four men laugh harder than the one’s before, and soon the strange little group was chatting, joking and teasing like they had been friends for years.

“You’re kidding!” Roman laughed. “He actually chugged a potion you had specifically said was for cleaning the kitchen floors??”

“Man, I wish I was kidding,” Virgil groaned. “After he was done vomiting in my cauldron, you know what he said?”

“What?”

“That it tasted disgusting and I needed to add more mint.”

Wheezing Roman doubled over, clutching his stomach that was hurting from laughing so much.

“Oh gosh Roman!” Patton suddenly gasped. “It’s almost sundown! We have to hurry or we’ll be late for dinner!”

Surprised Roman looked out of the window to find Patton was right; the sky had turned several soft shades of orange and pink.

“Have we truly spent the entire afternoon here?” Roman marvelled as he got up. “So sorry for keeping you so long!”

“No need to worry,” Logan said. “This day was quite enjoyable, despite it’s… rocky start.”

“Yeah,” Virgil smirked. “No better way to start a day than almost getting in a fight with the ruling class.” “Hey nooo! I apologized-!” Roman whined. Virgil waved him off.

“Chill princey, you’re good. Although…” Virgil’s smirk grew more mischievous. “If you can convince your parents to get me more budget for a new set of beakers and potion supplies, I might not retaliate with spiders in your bed.”

Roman snorted. “I’ll see what I can do,” He said good-naturedly, before sliding the books still on the table towards Logan. “Thank you for showing me these!”

“Actually,” Logan said, as he pushed the books back. “Keep them for now. You might want them more than I do.”

Gently Roman picked up the books. “…Thank you,” He said softly, as he held them close to his chest. “That’s so kind.” He cursed that the day had ended so quickly. He had so much more questions to ask, more stories to listen to…

“Hey, I was wondering!” Patton spoke up beside him. “Do you think we could meet up again tomorrow?” Roman gave Patton a baffled stare. His fiancé only returned it with a smile and a quick wink, and Roman felt his heart swell up with love for this man.

“Tomorrow?” Logan said. “I’m afraid not, I have work to do in the library.”

“Yeah sorry, I got responsibility things too.” Virgil added.

“Oh… That’s alright!” Roman said, trying to not let the disappointment shine through.

“However,” Virgil said. “I can do Friday afternoon? How about you, Lo?”

“I do believe Friday would be adequate.” Logan responded. Roman looked between the two men, before a dazzling grin broke out on his face.

“Friday it is then!” He said cheerfully, before he followed Patton to the door. “We’ll see you then!”

Logan nodded a goodbye and Virgil gave a lazy salute while the two princes quickly made their way out of Logan’s workspace.

“They seem nice!” Patton said as they made their way to the dining room.

“They do!” Roman agreed. His thumb ran over the worn leather covers of the books grasped close to his chest. “Even after I acted so rude they remained so friendly…”

“Oh, don’t continue to beat yourself up over that,” Patton said sweetly. “Sure, you made quite a blunder, but nobody’s perfect! Virgil accepted your apology. Best way to continue on now is not to repeat the same mistake!”

Patton happily hummed as he threw one arm around Roman’s waist. Roman was too busy being flabbergasted to return the gesture. Honestly, the kindness of this man just kept surprising him.

Gently Roman pushed the dining room doors open, revealing his parents and king Thomas already seated… And, strangely enough, general Isolda standing next to his father’s seat.

“There the two lovebirds are!” King Thomas smiled as Roman and Patton entered the dining room. “We thought we would have to start without you!”

“So sorry,” Roman quickly said. “I was showing Patton the library and lost track of time-!”

“Oh, not to worry,” His mother said. “Love is distracting, after all!” She daintily chuckled, but the look she threw Roman over the rim of her wineglass was a silent warning. Don’t let it happen again. Roman anxiously swallowed and gave the barest hint of a nod.

“Well, now that you’ve made it,” His father said. “We have some great news for you!” The king gestured to general Isolda. “We have discussed it today, and the general is dispatching a group of knights to search the mountains for Remus.”

In shock Roman looked at the general. The woman didn’t look very happy about the whole situation, but he supposed he couldn’t blame her. Still he couldn’t beat down the pure hope that flared up in his chest. Carefully he placed the books he still carried down on the dining table.

“Really?” Roman walked up to the general. “You’re going to look for my brother?”

General Isolda’s eyes flicked towards the king for the barest second, before looking back to Roman’s hopeful face.

“Of course,” She said, straining a small smile. “I will… Put my best knights on the task.”

Roman couldn’t hold back the beaming grin breaking out on his face even if he tried.

“Thank you!” He said sincerely. “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t thank me just yet…” The general muttered under her breath, but Roman didn’t hear her. Instead he ran to Patton, who eagerly accepted the grandiose embrace Roman swept him in.

“That’s settled then,” The king nodded satisfied. “The knights will leave tomorrow at the first break of dawn. General, dismissed.”

That Friday Roman and Patton spend their afternoon once again in the company of the sober librarian and the sarcastic sorcerer. Laughter filled the air, but Roman couldn’t help it; his thoughts kept drifting to the knights that were sent into the mountains. Would they have found anything by now?

He hoped so…

A week passed. Roman assured himself that a week was too soon to expect news; he just needed to be more patient.

Patton left with the promise of returning soon, he just needed to work things out with the university. Patton blew him kisses out of the carriage window, which Roman pretended to catch out of the air and pressed to his lips. Numbly he watched as the carriage disappeared over the horizon. Not for the first time he wished that he could attend university as well. His parents had unfortunately always been dismissive of that idea.

Life went back to its regular schedule. No more Patton meant no more visits to the library to laugh and joke with his newfound friends, and no more lazily spent afternoons. The days ticked away in a haze of lessons, responsibilities and court meetings. On the days he spent with his old friends he was quiet and somber, mostly looking out of the window to see if he spotted anything on the horizon yet.

Outside the castle the leafs started turning orange. The farmers started bringing in the crops. The air grew crisp and vagrant.

“Any news?”

“None, your Highness.”

“Any news?” Roman asked.

“No, sweetie…” With a mournful smile, his mother rubbed his shoulder.

“Oh… Maybe tomorrow?”

“Roman, maybe you need to prepare yourself for… The worst possible outcome?”

“No! I couldn’t! He’s not-! They’re not-!”

“Roman, please,” His mother grasped both of his shoulders. “You’re not a child anymore. You can’t keep on denying that there might not be a… Happy ending to this.”

“I won’t stop hoping! I won’t!”

A month passed before Patton could visit again. His stay was filled with joy, more days spent at the library than Roman had ever done for his studies and lasted way too short for anyone’s liking. Before he knew it, Patton’s carriage disappeared behind the horizon again, leaving Roman alone with the ever-growing void in his chest.

“Any news?”

“No, your Highness.”

“Any news?” Roman asked.

“No son,” His father answered. He shook his head with a wistful look. “What a pity… So many young lives, leaving families and promising futures behind…”

Roman swallowed guiltily, and focused on his dinner.

“…Any news?” Roman quietly asked. He had asked for almost every single day now for the past weeks.

Perhaps today would be good news.

General Isolda however only shook her head sadly.

He stopped asking.

Like the falling leafs the days passed. The air quickly grew colder and colder by the day and before Roman knew it, he woke up to find the outside world had turned completely white overnight. He didn’t quite know how long he stared at the snow outside that morning. He only knew that despite his warm bedchamber, his insides felt as frigid as the ice that covered the grounds.

When Roman finally left his chambers, he had a large smile plastered on his face. He greeted everyone jovially, joked and laughed. His parents told him at breakfast that they were glad to see him in good spirits again. Well, how could he not be glad? Patton was a visitor once more, and he was able to stay to celebrate Winter Solstice and the New Year with him! What could possibly be better than that?

In fact, that afternoon he convinced his three friends to take a walk through the snowy gardens.

“Isn’t it great to be outside the library for once?” He merrily sang out. He inhaled deeply. “Aaah, smell that crisply clean air! Oh, and I do believe I smell that the kitchens are making beer stew and glühwein for tonight’s dinner! Aren’t we lucky?”

He turned and threw his arms wide, beaming at his companions. Logan barely heard him over his chattering teeth. He was buried in so many scarfs that you only saw his fogged up glasses. Virgil and Patton however only exchanged an uneasy look.

“W-W-Why did I let you convince me about this again…?” Logan’s muffled voice came from the pile of scarfs.

“Because it is fun! We could build a snowman, or have a snowball fight, or make some snow angels-!” Roman summed up. “We might even go sledding outside the castle walls! How about it, my cold comrades?”

“Roman,” Patton said tenderly, as he grasped Roman’s hands. “Roman, honey. What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Roman chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong! In fact, I have a great idea! How about the four of us go ice-skating on the moat, wouldn’t that be-”

“Roman…” Patton folded his hands together under his chin, his wide eyes turning pleading and shining. Roman grimaced.

“Pat, please no- Not the puppy eyes, you know I can’t say no to the puppy eyes!”

“Then please tell me what’s wrong…?”

“Nothing! I promise! I just-” Patton’s lip began to wobble slightly. “Noooooooo, sweetie! Don’t do that to my poor heart!”

“Pat’s right,” Virgil spoke up. “You’ve been acting all… Forced happy-go-lucky and shit today.”

“Language!” Patton said sternly, momentarily dropping the puppy eyes to frown at Virgil. The sorcerer only focused on Roman though.

“Seriously princey,” He said. “We’re all worried here. Spill.”

Roman hesitantly looked between his friends, all three of them showing mirror expressions of concern. Guiltily he glanced down at his feet, his hands nervously rubbing together. The moments ticked by as the three friends patiently waited for their prince to say something.

“…Six months have passed.” Roman finally muttered.

“Yes, that is generally how the passage of time works.” Logan said. Virgil discretely elbowed him in the side. It made Roman snort out a laugh though.

“An astute observation, my clever friend!” Roman said. The amusement faded just as quickly as it came. “But what I meant was… Six months have passed since… Since…”

“…Since Remus disappeared.” Virgil finished for him.

“And four months since a search party was send out…” Roman nodded. His throat squeezed itself shut, making the words come out strangled and shaking. “There’s still no word from them. Nothing! They’re probably… Probably-” He couldn’t say it. The word was stuck in his throat, as if he feared that the second he would say it out loud it would become reality.

“Oh honeybee…” Patton sounded heartbroken. Firmly his fiancé embraced him. Roman hardly noticed, not even when Logan soothingly started rubbing his back or when Virgil grabbed his elbow. Tremors shot through his body and his breathing was shallow.

“Princey,” Virgil said. “You’re panicking.”

“It’s all my fault,” Roman said shakily.

“This is not your fault!” Patton protested.

“I was the one who wanted a search party! What have I done?”

“Roman, listen to me,” Virgil’s gravely voice cut through the rushing in his ears. “Breathe with me. Four seconds in, hold for seven, breathe out for eight. Can you do that? Follow the rhythm.”

Virgil’s fingers gently tapped out the rhythm against his elbow. Roman tried his best to follow the soft beats with his breathing. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, surrounded by people he loved so much it ached sometimes, but eventually his breathing evened out. The silence stretched out for a few more minutes.

“You are not to blame for what happened, Roman,” Logan eventually said. “You could have not predicted that this would happen.”

“But they sacrificed themselves because I-!”

BOOM!!!

Screams of surprise left the four men all at once. The little group jumped even closer together then before. Virgil’s eyes immediately transformed to purple, Logan grabbed Roman’s back in a tight hold, and Patton squeezed Roman’s waist so tightly that Roman could barely breathe. Adrenaline coursed through Roman’s veins and his heart beat painfully fast. What was that? Was it thunder? No, the skies were clear.

“What on earth was that?” Patton squeaked. Roman could only answer with a shake of his head, wildly looking around for the source of the noise. From everywhere people trickled outside, confused and scared sounds filling the air.

“What was that-?”

“-Too loud for thunder-”

“Are we under attack-?”

“Where did it come from-?”

“We should lock up the castle’s gate-!”

Through the growing crowd Roman saw his father hurrying outside, making his way to the front castle’s wall. On a whim Roman freed himself from the impromptu group hug and walked after him.

As the king climbed up the stairs to the ramparts, Roman quickly ran up as well. If he had looked behind him, he would have seen that Patton, Logan and Virgil followed right behind him.

“What happened?” He heard his father ask.

“Not sure, your Majesty,” General Isolda answered while she handed the king a spyglass. “But we know where the explosion came from. Look.”

The general pointed to the distance, and Roman followed everyone’s gaze.

A mushroom cloud had formed, right above a peak of the Desolate Mountains. It looked rather tiny, but Roman knew it had to be enormous to be even seen from this faraway. “What the fuck…?” Virgil said behind him, and Roman couldn’t agree more.

“It must have been something big, seeing as the sound carried all the way to here,” The general continued while the king inspected the cloud through the spyglass. “We can not know for certain what caused it unless we send knights to inspect-”

“No need,” King Augusto lowered the spyglass. “Obviously it was just a minor volcanic explosion,” He said with a light smile. “We’ll send troops to nearby towns to see if the blast caused damage to their homes-”

“Falsehood.” Logan said. The king froze, before he slowly turned to Logan.

“What did you say there, son?” The king asked in a low voice.

“Falsehood,” Logan repeated, master of Not Seeing Big Red Warning Flags. “We don’t have active volcanoes in the area, and even if that was a volcanic explosion, the cloud would be black because of the ashes. Also I’m not your son. Furthermore-”

His explanation was cut short, because Virgil punched Logan hard enough in the stomach to cut him off. As Logan doubled over in pain, Virgil grabbed him in a headlock and covered his mouth.

“Yep! Volcanoes! That’s definitely what’s going on!” Virgil laughed strenuously. “Very good thinking, your Majesty! Don’t mind my friend, he has a bit of a fever!” Virgil began dragging Logan away, who was making protesting noises behind Virgil’s hand. “We will be preparing an anti-volcano protocol now! A good day, my king!”

King Augusto scowled after the pair, before he noticed Roman standing at battlements, still staring at the cloud.

“Roman.” He said.

“Yes…?” Roman answered absent-mindedly.

“Go check to see if your mother is alright. I have to discuss sending out knights to the towns near the mountains.”

Reluctantly Roman tore his gaze away from the mountains to go inside with Patton in tow, leaving king Augusto to calm the large mass of people still at the foot of the castle walls.

As the crowd slowly started to trickle down and went back inside, many of them fleeing back to their warm chambers and fireplaces, Virgil lingered behind on the snowy ramparts. He squinted suspiciously at the distant peaks of the Desolate Mountains and the fading mushroom cloud, as if an answer would present itself if he just glared hard enough.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, you snake,” He hissed softly. “But it won’t work. I won’t allow it!”

No answer came but the ice-cold wind picking up, sending shivers down Virgil’s spine.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #ts remus #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #this chapter got way out of hand

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spacegaywritings · 5 years ago

Text

Cursing into Emancipation - Chapter 2 (final)

It was not supposed to have a part two, to be fair but this is the last one.

Tags: swearwords, fainting, comedic drama

Summary: Casper learned a lot of new swearwords and confidence from Remus and now needs to implement his knowledge. He is about to meet with the other sides and practices his new skills before proudly performing them in front of his friends! Patton comes to tell him they started early, walking in on his odd exercise. Tumblr: 1. || ao3: 1 / 2 // all.

My KoFi - Support me ♥ or Commission me Story under the cut! @redyoghurtgirl

Casper carefully brushed through his light brown hair, heart-shaped irises following his movement in the refection of the bathroom mirror. He stood in front of the sink, mirror hanging above and smiling at him.

Confidence.

Tonight he would be with the light sides again and he would be with Logan too. Remus would not be around, after all Patton and Virgil did not agree to them interacting (Logan thinks it is ridiculous and for once, the pink side had to agree with the logical one). But could he really say “no” to anyone, let alone his friends?

The slightly furrowed brows above his eyes, the intense look in his carefully squinting orbs paired with the little bit of tightness around his mouth proved him right. He could see himself in the mirror, doubting look throwing itself back at him. He was not in the position to deny his friends anything. He.. he would never, he could not. He physically and mentally felt so .. wrong just thinking about it.

A part of him hardened, his hearts feeling heavy.

Remus told him to yell it out, to curse it away.

Attachment shook his head, letting every thought other than the memories of comfort he had collected with Remus leave his mind.

Focus on cursing. Curse. Swear. Curse yourself into confidence, into a riot. Stand up for yourself.

He reminded himself, repeating the words again and again to affirm himself. It was almost as if he needed to study for a test Logan would make for him because apparently sides needed studying too. At least according to Logan.

Well, maybe Patton too. A bit. Every side taught him a bit every now and then but Remus seemed to teach him the most useful stuff in the most fitting way for him to learn. It was fun and always helped him and it was not boring like maths or geography..

Casper closed his eyes.

“Fuck this”, he spoke softly.

A little tug could be felt in his heart as the words left his mouth. He could hear himself speak, he could experience the relief instantly.

Somehow, these words were the comforting pat on his shoulder he did not know he needed before this happened. This just proved how smart and precious Remus was to teach him these things.

It really helped. Immediately, even!

He took another breath, filling his lungs and confidence with energy.

“Fuck Logan”, he tried again, tone of voice turning a firmer like snow piling up so much, it pressed into a layer of something akin to ice.

A little smile appeared on his face, his lips pushing his other facial features up and making his eyes and heart freckles shine with him, bright like a star. A star was a sun! He knew that because Remus showed him!

He continued, his voice and spirits warming up as he moved on to worse words, harsher tones and more confident exclamations of comfort. His mind was set on assertion, not service.

As he went on, his voice increased in volume as well. The time was forgotten in his little space of the bathroom. He was walking up and down, even throwing his hands up when the catharsis of swearwords came cascading from his rather active vocal chords.

Strings of offensiveness were pronounced wildly by his curious yet usually ever-gentle voice of an innocent child.

Casper was so sucked into his world of good feelings and coping with all this stress, he got fired up for the meeting that had started minutes ago instead of actually attending. The sides were waiting for him and after some moments, Patton decided to pop up and check up on him to make sure he was okay. After all, he was one of his kiddos and he needed to take care of his best friends - all 4 of them.

The dad suddenly appeared in Casper’s room in his regular fashion. A patient smile was leading him into the empty space as he manifested himself into it with a cheery “Casper~”

Nothing.

There was nothing to be seen. The place looked pretty much as always. Some clutter, many many piles of memories concerning Thomas in earlier years of life such as his baby and toddler stages. Still, there was no Casper.

If the room was okay, then Casper had to be okay, too. Right? This was how it worked. Usually, rooms would change with a side’s alterations. Especially feelings were also reflected in a side’s room. The pink side’s room was the same as always, there was not even a single thing that seemed to be out of place.

Patton, however, could make out the smallest bit of noise in the background.

The moral side inched closer to the door that lead to the bathroom.

“Kiddo? We are waiting for you”, he called into the responseless space, “we have your favourite snacks”

The silence screamed at Morality, making him squirm in his spot and carefully shift his weight from one foot to the other.

As he approached the door further, he started making out the clear sound of Casper’s soft voice. The gentleness of a child marked the sound of it, making it more than evident that it was him and not anyone else talking.

“Casper, heyo!”

Patton tried again but there was a response this time, a rather loud and harsh series of spat-out words.

“Fuck THIS ALL! Stupid, fuckfaced, mother-”

It was at this moment, the reader knew, Casper had fucked up. But it was also at this moment, that Patton knew nothing but blackness. Within just the fraction of a moment, his mind blocked out any other information and his body snapped together like a folding chair. He landed on the floor like a plank rather than a person. His whole appearance was stiff, frozen from the shock of hearing such vulgar words at all but especially said by a voice as soft as Casper’s and by a person as sweet and innocent as Attachment had to be!

Casper could hear a sudden thud. Huh? What happened? Usually, Remus would be louder than that when crashing into his room all of a sudden. The chaotic side also had a sense of respecting Casper’s separation between spending time with him or the others. He would not invade without a reason.

Curious yet also peaking in a tad of worry, he stuck his head out of the door only to be met with the sight of a passed out Patton before his bed.

“Oh? Pat, Pat, what is wrong?!”

The pink side held the dad figure carefully. Slowly, he woke up.

“Casper..?”

Attachment nodded eagerly, glad to see the other awake once more. Relief taster sweeter than honey on his little tongue.

Patton sobbed softly.

“I thought you had said really bad words”, he explained between sniffles, his arms moving to hug the other, “I was really scared Remus had turned you into one of them.”

The sweetness turned bitter real quick. His whole mouth seemed sour and Casper got really sick and heavy in the stomach. Patton seemed oblivious or careless to the sudden change of heart in his friend. He was busy fixing his hair and glasses before moving on to adjust his cardigan.

“Well, I know you kiddo! I must have been excited and gotten too happy about seeing you and your nice room and memories so much I was overwhelmed and passed out! Well, silly me, I should get used to it. Anyway, my dear, how about that movie night with the others? I am super keen on it - what about you?”

Patton was rambling so much, Casper blinked a lot to process all these words. Maybe looking fast meant hearing fast? He was not sure about it but he knew that all these words made him really fuzzy in his head. His stomach was still really foul with how Patton had talked about his best friend again. Small grabby fingers brushed over the green bracelet reminding him of Remus.

“I mean.. yes. Yeah! Of course!”

His mouth was black and foul with the deception of his feelings.

His heart hurt. As usual, his lips smiled still but his eyes were dull hearts. His freckles did not glow with the enthusiasm of cuddling up with Virgil and holding hands with Patton or singing with Roman. He could not look forward to any of those things anymore.

His index poked the tentacles, one of them saying “B E S T”. When the engraved letters tickled his finger pad, he almost felt as if the world did not have to be grey anymore.

He swallowed the taste of rotten eggs.

Morality gave him a soft smile and nudged him again. He shot up to his feet and stretched out his hand.

“How about some sugar cookies, kiddo?”

Casper wanted to say yes, wanted to want going with him but something within him was still hurt by Patton’s little comment about Remus. His stomach was so sick and sensitive, if he held hands too much, he would probably cry and feel really bad. Maybe he would get a tummy ache?

He got up by himself instead and patted his clothes for good measure and manners.

“Maybe carrots?”

Remus and he really liked carrots. The other sides did not like him. He did not understand why. He felt like crying and really wanted carrots.

“Yes, sure, kiddo.”

Something in how taken aback Patton sounded made him feel as if he had done a bad thing. It was too surprising. He was too different. Too much like them.

Patton walked out of the room and Casper followed suit, his steps slow and heavy. It felt as if his freckles would fade if he did not cry. He would not cry now.

When they arrived, he got his spot next to Virgil while Patton washed and cut him some carrots. Logan and Roman were bantering. His friend soaked up the bad feelings in his heart. When Patton was back, Casper had already given up on being awake and instead fell asleep to relish in the dreams of holding hands with Remus instead. It was just them, holding hands and riding clouds because they were best friends.

“Casper is experiencing pleasant dreams, as it seems. This indicates a good overall mood and well-being.”

Patton nodded. This settled it, he had imagined the whole mess with these mean words after all!

“See popstar? He is happy with us.”

Roman gasped dramatically, touching his heart through his Beast onesie.

“How could he not be? Of course he is happy with us! We are the good guys!”

Logan rolled his eyes and shrugged, deciding to not give him the time of the day. The others redirected their attention to the screen again.

Tangled was playing and Patton and Roman started singing again as the next song came on. Virgil held onto his friend, trying to ignore just how embarrassing he felt when he hid his eyeshadow-black eyes in a pillow.

Logan measured the time it would take for the scene to end.

Not one of them noticed Casper’s heart freckles glowing. His heart was warm and his giggles were lost in the improvised sing-off between the two most enthusiastic sides. Only dream-Remus would recognise the change and call him “glow cheeks” for it.

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takivvatanga · 4 years ago

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review.

It’s ok to ask for help!

says the poster on the wall, in a room like so many others. Assire is no longer intimidated by rooms like this one. Two chairs, sometimes three. A table. The carpet patterned, a little bit threadbare. Water cooler in the corner. Sometimes there’s even plastic cups. Today, there’s none. It doesn’t matter. She’s not thirsty. A box of tissues on the table, right in the centre. In case you need to cry. Assire has set herself the challenge to never, never cry in one of these rooms, in front of one of the endless strings of people whose names she never remembers, but who are always so glad to meet her. Why do people say that, she wonders. Why say that when everyone knows that this is work, that she is work,nothing more than a name and a number written on a government form, an entry in a database, a bunch of papers in a file.

“Assire? Are you listening to me?”

The teenager looks up, startled. There are dark circles under her eyes. Assire nods briefly, folds her hands in her lap.

“You look very tired.”

“I’m fine.”

She tries to fake a smile, fails miserably. She’s never been good at pretending.

“I’m just… it’s hard. To be alone.”

It is, in fact, the hardest thing she has ever done.

Assire is not used to being alone. Back in the Community, there were always others. Her sisters, her parents, the other families. She remembers having meals at the big hall, the children at their own table, separated from the adults. She remembers the noise, the cramped space, sitting shoulder to shoulder between Jovanna and Cecilia, with Eviva curled up on her lap, a curly-haired toddler with chubby cheeks and sauce stains on her shirt. She remembers standing up, way up on the stage, holding her sisters’ hands while their voices soared, remembers the people below growing misty-eyed, their hands raised towards the skies. Like angels, people used to say. Those sisters sing like angels.

There’s a pub across from the boarding house where she now stays. They have concerts sometimes. In the summer, they open all the windows, the music drifting across the road and into her room. They are popular songs that people in the pub sing along with, rowdy and out of key, more shouting than singing. Assire doesn’t know the words, doesn’t recognise the melodies. Sometimes she tries to hum a harmony but she can never find the right key.

The woman’s name is Penny. At least Assire thinks so. Or is it Jenny? She has short blonde hair and reading glasses on a colourful lanyard. Her nails are painted red, perfectly shaped, not too long, not too short. Assire is ashamed of her own hands, dry and cracked, nails bitten almost to the quick. Penny’s (Jenny’s?) hands move quickly, clicking the pen, writing something down on an official looking form.

Assire can just make out the words Unsupported Youth - REVIEW printed along the top.

“Young people like you often feel lonely. You’re dealing with a lot, Assire. I want you to know that you don’t have to do it all on your own.”

It’s ok to ask for help!

But I do. I don’t have anyone else.

She nods again, smoothing out the folds in her sweatshirt. It’s too big for her, the colours are dull, washed out. The hem is starting to fray. She’s going to need to apply for a clothing allowance soon.

“Tell me about school.”

Assire’s eyes light up at the word, even though her body language remains guarded. She loves school and at the same time she loathes it. It is another world, full of discoveries, of surprises, but it’s not without danger. It is here that the feeling of not belonging, of being somehow displaced in a world that she can never quite make sense of is the most acute.

“It’s fine.”

“Your grades are very good.”

“I just like learning things.”

It is an understatement. Every day there is something new, another layer of lies that she used to believe peeled back. The earth is round, and it wasn’t created in seven days. Assire marvels at history, at geography, at biology. Literature made her feel guilty, at first. She never thought that such books, dealing with such matters could exist and that people should not only read them but discuss them so openly. Of course, she never joins the discussion, for fear of sounding stupid, of going red in the face, of stumbling over her words, of giving away the fact that she is, for lack of a better way of phrasing it, not from this world.

But it isn’t at literature that Assire excels – it’s mathematics. “Maths will likely be a struggle for you”, she was told when she started. “Given that you’ve always been a homeschooler. On such a restricted curriculum, too. You have a lot of material to catch up on.” In the end, she did much more than just catch up. She can’t explain how exactly it happened, it is as if she is being strung along on an invisible thread that runs between the numbers, the operations, a delicate web that Assire delights in untangling. Numbers don’t care where you came from, what you know of society, of people, of human nature. Numbers are absolute, perfect, logical. Numbers are black and white. Assire is good at black and white. She’s always been taught to think in absolutes.

“I’m trying for a scholarship. For university.”

As soon as she has said it, she feels stupid. The teenager looks up, furtive, half expecting Penny (Jenny?) to laugh at her. But she only smiles before writing something else down on her form.

“That’s fantastic, Assire. A really, really good idea. What do you want to study? Have you thought about that?”

Assire shrugs, feels her cheeks start to burn with embarrassment.

“I really like… I don’t know. IT. I’ve been teaching myself a few things, just in the library.” ”What kind of things?”

Assire inhales sharply, her eyes growing wide. Is she in trouble? Should she have said that? Is this something bad, something wrong, something forbidden? She shifts in her seat, suddenly on edge.

“Just a few things nothing bad I swear! Just… a bit of C, Basic, Java. Languages. Honestly I’m not doing anything wrong I’m just-“

“Assire. It’s fine. I’m glad you’re doing something productive in your spare time. Something you enjoy.”

Penny (Jenny?) smiles a reassuring smile, reaches out to touch Assire’s arm with a reassuring gesture but thinks better of it when she sees the way the girl’s face closes, the way her body seems to fold in on itself as she flinches away from the touch.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. You’re safe, alright?”

“I’m okay.” Assire repeats. “I’m okay.”

“I don’t really know much about computers”, Penny (Jenny?) shrugs, twirling her pen between her fingers. An attempt to lift the mood. “It’s all a bit too complicated for me. Nothing wrong with pen and paper.”

“I think technology is important. Like, really important. For everyone.” Assire covers her mouth with her hand as soon as she says it. “Sorry. I… That was rude of me.”

“Not rude in the slightest. I think it’s really important that you speak your mind. You know. Have an opinion, and not be afraid to express it.”

It’s Assire’s turn to shrug. She wants to know why this is important. It’s not like she talks to anyone anyway. Beyond the people she meets in rooms just like these, of course.

“How are you getting on with, you know. Making friends. What we talked about last time.”

Of course. Of course it had to come down to this. Making friends. All Assire knows is that making friends is most definitely not her forte. She never knows what to say, how to behave, who to be. She is endlessly awkward, her mind full of thoughts that she doesn’t dare voice, ideas that she doesn’t dare share.

“Good. Yeah, really good.”

Penny (Jenny?) gives her a look, over the rim of her glasses, sharp and more than just a little annoyed. She’s been working with young people for a long time and knows exactly when she is being lied to.

Better than you have tried, sweetheart.

“Don’t lie, Assire. Please. You’re better than that. Listen, you’re not in trouble. This… this talk isn’t about getting you in trouble. I’m not sitting here expecting you to answer my questions a certain way. All I want to know is how you’re getting on. Honestly. So I can find a way to support you. Do you know how many kids we get trying to get onto Unsupported Youth every month? A hell of a lot. Do you know how many can maintain it? Bugger all. Because it’s a lot to ask of a teenager, all these rules and all these appointments, keeping a roof over their head, keeping up with schoolwork, budgeting… I mean, you know how it is. And most kids, well, they don’t have to learn how to do all of these things first. They’re not trying to understand what is basically another world on top of everything else.”

“I’m not lying I’m just… I’m just…” This is a losing battle, and Assire knows it.

“I’m… I just need some time. I want to focus on school. And work. Other people… it’s too much.”

I’m too different.

“Can I… can I please go now? I got a paper due that I need to finish, and I got work tonight.”

“Sure. Would you like a ride home?”

”No. No thank you. I’ll walk.”

“Alright.”

Assire, visibly relieved, pulls on her jacket, picks up her backpack. The weight of the books stashed inside is solid, comforting. Something real, something to ground her. The girl takes care to push her chair close to the table, brushes a strand of greasy curls off her face as she makes her way to the door. She stops with her hand on the handle, casts a quick glance back over her shoulder.

“... Penny?”

“It’s Jenny. But never mind that, I been called much worse I can assure you. What is it?”

This time, Assire’s smile is genuine. It’s small, timid, tightlipped, awkward as anything, but it is there and it is real.

“Thank you.”

#vignette: assire #verse: modern #what do we do when depression kicks us right in the serotonin?#we write teenage assire vignettes apparently #once again i'm not happy with the structure it needed something else at the end #but i actually felt good writing this and listen my current serotonin is like negative #so i'll take it #also LMAOOO i guess i am back to writing fantasy after all because i mean #a modern world where vulnerable young people are actually supported by the system #and encouraged to heal and move forward from their past #what a fucking CONCEPT #speaking as someone who has been through the system as a teenager oh man i got some stories rifp

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no1trash2003 · 5 years ago

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GCSE is an absolute, inarguable joke.

Recently, contravercy has sprung up about the usefulness of the new spec GCSE. As of June of this year, 2019, I completed my allotted gcse's. I can say with absolute certainty that the exams I partook in were a joke.

Last year, I completed 3 GCSE courses early, English lit, Physics and Biology. My school made a complete mess of this. We learned all of my two science courses within the year, with 3 different qualified teachers (all separately after they fled the school) and 5 supply teachers, none of whom knew anything about the subject. I can say without a doubt that my year was unprepared and suffered the consequences. This, along with how hard the gcse was supposed to be now, resulted in many of my peers not even showing up on the exam day after collapsing under the pressure of preconceived failure. Many of those who tried in the gcse, learning the entirety of the course in their own time in other words, did well.

In other words, it was easy. Well, at least, answering the questions was. After getting their results back many were shocked at their low grade, but as it turns out (and as many of them knew) Mark's were not given on how correct an answer was or how thought out it was. No, Mark's were given entirely based off how many key words you could shove into your 6 marker, or how much flowery bullshit you could beat your english answer with.

Just to put this into context, I didn't try in my y10 GCSE's. I knew for my science GCSE, it was entirely based off memorisation. I knew for my English GCSE I had to spell out the obvious with some pretty words sprinkled on top. I slept in class, I drew for my art GCSE, I did maths- all in my english lessons, and my science lessons which early into the year virtually became free periods.

I went into the exam apathetic. In the holidays that followed, I lost no sleep.

We didn't have a results day, so I called up the school when the y11's got their results. In English lit, I was a few Mark's off a 9, A*. In biology, a 6, B. In physics, 7, A. To put this even more into perspective, I have dyslexia, a learning disability affecting language with which I received no accommodation for in or outside of my exams. I also suffer from auditory memory gaps.

Without a doubt I can say my exams were a joke, simply because of how well I did. My friends, who studied for hours and stressed to the point of it being labelled a disorder, came back with lower grades than me.

They knew the content better than me, without a doubt. Their understanding was deep where mine was shallow. They could recite key words off by heart. They did everything they could to do well in these exams, and were evidently lied to when they were told their efforts would be rewarded.

So, if not depth of understanding or key words separated a 9 from a 6, what does? What reason am I granted the ability of easily sliding by my gcse's when they struggled?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

In the being of the year, I'd taken one look at the mark scheme and known. My results would be completely meaningless. All it took in english, was saying the book or poem i was writing about was shit, fluffing it up with worthless words, and the mark scheme shat out an 8, A*. In my Physics GCSE, all it took was maths to get that 7. I didnt know shit about anything else. In biology, much the same.

I did well because I knew how to bullshit my way through. I knew where to slap a pretty word to seem smart and I knew how to use a calculator to its fullest potential. These skills, unfortunately, have nothing to do with the supposed gcse topic and are not in the spec.

I did better because I could lie better- and no, I didnt bother cheating

How is that not a joke? HOW can something so fickle and abstract decide my future, and the future of my friends? Why does it condemn those that seek knowledge for knowledges sake, and reward those like me, who know well enough that the whole thing was a sham?

This idea was strongly reinforced when I went onto Y11.

It was filled to the brim with more of the same. Shove in some flowery words, say something is a bit shit, do some maths. This time, however, I wanted to test a theory.

What difference would trying make?

There were exams I'd have to try in, like Fine Art and maths, but the rest were just as bullshit as the last year. For example, in chemistry, we had an actual teacher for a grand total of 3 weeks, and the course spec was so basic and boring that a 3 year old could understand it- if, you know, it wasnt overloaded with pointless bullshit to the point of looking to be gibberish. It was like asking someone to memorize a dictionary, and testing them on a small specific section of it that is to be randomly selected. The results would obviously be completely random.

Its easily understood that people are simply better at some things and worse at others. Someone who is good at this randomly selected section of the spec will do better in the exam than someone with a more rounded understanding of the spec as a whole. The exam is completely and utterly the bitch of this concept.

I find nanotubes (and related fullerines) as well as maths easy. I did well in the chemistry paper. I'm good at testing for things, I did well. My friend knew everything there was to know about atoms, radiation and reactions. This was not heavily featured in the exam, so they are marked lesser. My other friend had a good understanding of the spec as a whole, but due to this couldn't answer the highest level questions with the most Mark's as their understanding was left shallow. They are marked lesser. Trying didnt make a difference, and I see that now more than ever, at least for chemistry.

In geography, I tried my best. I know that, unfortunately, my memory issues dragged me down. As sad as it is to say, my learning disability and memory issues, both diagnosed officially, held me back in the memory based exams. Fortunately, I had my understanding of the subject as a small consolation. It was secondary to the memory aspect unfortunately, and mostly answered low mark questions. How sick is it, that understanding is secondary in the face of memory. Truly, a these exams were built around memorizing a textbook. Trying didnt make a difference. In the end, I failed to memories much of anything. The things based off understanding were obvious and required little to no effort to grasp. I know I could slept those classes away, and the only difference would be a slight increase in my health. The exam, evidently, was a joke.

Now, to the main reason I wrote this long winded and obvious rant.

The English Language GCSE.

Of course I tried my hardest. In every mock bar one I got high 9's. I helped my classmates. I participated and revised and stressed. I turned up to the exams, feverish with tonsillitis. I tried my best, both for the exam and to not throw up. I littered my words with as many false pleasantries and flowery bulshit as I could. I called the basic and dull literature what it was, basic and dull, a thing discouraged by teachers despite earning me my 9s. I wrote some depressing drivel in the final question 5, making sure to put mild, professional and somewhat abstract opinions into it (again, something that gave me 9's)

I left the exam without pride. I was sure I'd done well, but the success I was meant to feel was only grief for the years I'd lost in a classroom, miserable.

Later, I would feel proud. Maybe I'd see. Maybe, hopefully, my theory was wrong- at least in regards to English language.

Then, article after article poured into my feed. One particular article on Mumsnet called the marking scheme ' a shitshow'.

So I sat down, weeks after the official end of Y11, and reviewed the markshemes we'd based the entire course on at my school.

The articles were right. It was vague jargon, and completely subjective. It called for judicious quotes, with nothing to specify what should be considered such. It called for a high and sophisticated vocabulary, and again, completely contradicted this when looking at exams from the previous year which were marked as such. It was without a doubt the most completely ambiguous thing I'd ever read, and the people marking my exam seemed to agree. Sleep deprived and stressed to fuck, the reality of it has passed my by but was now clear as day.

In the end, my hard work didnt pay off. It doesn't matter now if I get a 9 or a 3. I know theres little chance it will be a reflection of my exam. For better or worse.

My classmates seem to understand this as well as me. So, what did the GCSE's actually manage to teach us?

It taught us to accept failure. Success is a bold faced lie entirely based off luck.

Those bold enough to say hard work is rewarded have their heads shoved in the sand.

Trying made no difference.

I see, now, what was going through those peoples heads last year, when they didnt show up for the exams or classes. Hard work is not rewarded and they were going to fail from the start.

They were too honest, and clearly, the only thing valued in GCSE's is the ability to lie so well that the exam marker is also tricked. Trying at this point would be a hopeless, draining task.

All that the GCSE's gave me was problems. Now, getting up in the morning is harder than my exams ever were. I abandoned everything for those exams, like many others. I lost my health, physical and mental. I lost my personality and sense of self. I lost years of my life, that should be cherished, to dispare. These gcse's are a tortuous joke and I wish more than anything that I'd never bothered in the first place because in the end, it wouldn't have made a difference.

Now, I'm moving on to collage to do much of the same. All I see ahead of me is misery, but unfortunately, this apearese to be an unchangeable reality placed upon us as a sick twisted joke. I've accepted this, as sad as it is, but I cant stand by as people lie to themselves and others, saying GCSE's are in any way worth it outside of a number on some paper.

Education is long dead. That's what GCSE's taught me.

Update- results: english lan, 7 (gonna get remarked), lit, 8. Maths-8. Bio-6. Chem-7. Physics-7. Art-9. Computer science-7. Geo-7

#gcse english #gcse chemistry #gcse biology #GCSE #gcse 2019 #gcse 2020 #education #school #secondary school #revision #reality #contraversy #gcse results

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fakemuggle529-blog · 5 years ago

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"HARRY DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE?!?!"

I could go on for days about the differences between the HP books and the movies (just ask my wife). 7 books, 8 movies, 4 directors, 2 screenplay writers, a myriad of actors or varying levels of talent, but this 1 line haunts every single Harry Potter fan. One comment about this line was "we're never going to get over this, are we?" That one comment sparked this post, which was originally meant to be a list of my least favorite movie moments and why.

But Harry Potter is my favorite subject, and my rant about this became a separate post to answer that rhetorical question.

Simply put, no, we're not going to get over it. But why won't we?

As with any adaptation, since the world isn't ready for a 10 hour movie based on 1 book, bits and pieces of the Harry Potter books needed to be cut out. (I'd be down for that movie, but I digress)

Things like the Draco/Pansy romance, Rita Skeeter being an unregistered Animagus, or winning the Quidditch cup ultimately don't have an impact on the plot of "evil wizard finds path to immortality, boy wizard must stop him with the help of his friends," so they can get cut pretty easily.

Even things like the Marauders' full moon adventures and creation of the Map, Umbridge setting the dementors on Harry, and Neville's parents' fate are secondary material, meant to give more weight to the main story:

- The world would still be in mortal danger without four teenagers creating a map of their school, but that map helped stop that danger;

- Umbridge would still be a cruel bitch if we hadn't known she sent the dementors, but that tidbit show her own demented state of mind and how far she'll go to get what she wants.

- and we'd still want Voldemort dead even if we'd never heard of Neville Longbottom, because we've seen the impact he had on Harry. The info about the Longbottoms just gives more depth to the characters involved.

But regardless of what they left out, the basics stayed the same: "evil wizard finds path to immortality, boy wizard must stop him with the help of his friends" continued, except the written version had more information than the visual. The fans already knew what was missing, so our brains filled it in for us. And leaving out that bit of info for the adaptation process allowed people who hadn't read the books to know what was going on and how the information fit together, even if they had less information than the fans.

(I think of the miniseries Chernobyl, when the general asks how a nuclear reactor works. He gets a bare bones explanation, and can parrot it back to his subordinates later. He might not me able to do the math or understand all of the technical jargon, but that simple explanation has given him enough info to get things going.)

As the movies progressed, we saw more and more get left out since the books only got longer, or more in depth, or both which each new addition, but no matter what, that skeleton was still there, "evil wizard finds path to immortality, boy wizard must stop him with the help of his friends." And the 'friends' part was even more accurate with supporting characters!

Hermione was the nerd from the books, Ron was the goofy best friend, Neville was the underdog, Draco was the bully!

Every single character was fitting their book counterparts perfectly, they just couldn't be as in depth in this medium!

Lucius was the oily bastard you knew he was, Sirius was the Godfather who wanted to be there but couldn't, Bellatrix was the psychotic fanatic who'd do anything to earn Voldemort's praise, Dumbledo--

And that's where the similarities stop.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is a lot of things: he's the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot (the Wizard High Court), honoree of the highest medal of Honor possible for Wizards, one of the most notable contributors to the field of alchemy, and from what I understand a PHENOMENAL dancer.

He's human, and fallible like any other human, but he is definitely not stupid.

Just in book 1, before Ms. Rowling had even gotten into her stride as a storyteller, we see Dumbledore:

Send Harry to the safest place possible; watch over him as much as possible; send updated owls to Harry with every change of address; send Hagrid as the most friendly way to introduce Harry to his true world; Send Harry the invisibility cloak as a connection to his dad; say that he 'doesn't need a cloak to become invisible;' RETURN the cloak after Harry lost it; and turned around on his trip to London on some intuition, barely managing to save Harry's life.

While he might not be the warmest of people, probably due to a tendency to think too deeply, Dumbledore shows the strongest of power when he needs to fight, the quickest of words when he needs to talk, and what seems to be a clear sense of right and wrong (the waters get a little murky with that last one, but he stands up for what he sees is wrong, regardless of what he thought at 18), and a calm dignity, even while getting his feathers ruffled.

And that's exactly why this gets under our skin so much.

As fans of the books, we see Dumbledore do it all, in great detail. Even that infamous line is ended with "he asked CALMLY" (All Caps is my addition). We see Dumbledore:

-sit next to an 11-year old who nearly died recently and promise to some day tell him about the first time he nearly died as an infant AT THE HANDS OF THE SAME GUY... Calmly, because this is a conversation he's been dreading for years, so he's prepared.

- hire a clear fraud just to fill his staff; have two 12-year olds crash an illegal flying car into a living tree AND talk down the teacher that wanted to skin them alive; deal with an unknown threat that was attempting to kill his students; get forcibly removed from the school, only return ready to console grieving parents AND watch the same 12 year olds from earlier emerge from an unfindable chamber WITH the 11 year old who was thought to be dead....calmly, because he's lost loved ones, and he knows what it is to grieve.

- Hire a werewolf; keep that a secret from his students, their parents, and maybe even the government; and have two 13 year olds illegally time travel to save an animal an a convicted felon...calmly, because an innocent man's life is important.

- Host a death tournament specially designed to 'not kill;' and slowly watch a plot to revive to worst wizard ever unfold before his eyes....calmly, because he didn't have all of the information yet.

- Get slandered by the entirety of the government, and forcibly removed from his position in the Courts; have a government spy forced onto his staff; purposefully pissed her off; evade arrest and go on the lam...calmly, because he knows he's right, and the truth will out. THEN come back, fight every Death Eater in the ministry, fight Voldemort, convince the government not to arrest him, then talk Harry through his Godfather's death....calmly, because he knows he messed up, he even says that Harry show be so much angrier, and 'please, by all means, destroy my possessions'.

- Find out he's dying; find out there's a hit on him; recruit an old colleague, and use Harry as a means to reveal a crucial part of Voldemort's past, which he's been teaching to Harry all year; find a horcrux as well as pass on as much info about them as possible; AND get psychologically tortured mere moments before being murdered....

- AND, postmortem, we find out that Dumbledore has been playing pretty much everybody, but especially Harry....calmly, because for once, it really was "the greater good."

But he was fun loving too, maybe childishly so due to the fact that he had to grow up so fast.

- Some of His first words after Harry starts school are, "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! And tweak!"

- He did what was best for the school AND Firenze by hiring the centaur, but he clearly enjoyed shoving it in Umbridge's face.

- and let's not forget the night he picked Harry up front Privet Drive. He obviously made those glasses hit the Dursleys as some small payback for how they treated Harry.

That's Dumbledore. Serious, wise, and seriously wise, with a penchant for mischief.

The movie Dumbledore gave none of that, especially with that terrible, terrible reading of that line.

That one line changed the entire character of Albus Dumbledore. Instead of the cool, calm, and collected man he always was, he lost control. In front of his foreign and governmental guests nonetheless. That would never happen to Dumbledore. He's seen the signs, and can tell something is up. That's WHY he hired "Mad-Eye."

Even that stupid Christmas scene added to the HBP movie, as much as I freaking HATE it, doesn't CHANGE anything. The Death Eaters attack and for some reason burn the house down. Boo hoo. Nobody gets hurt, nobody dies, the house is back to normal the next movie. No big deal. They just wanted to add to the drama some, instead of the usual deduction from the cuts.

This change is why we hate SO many other adaptations, or "cuts" as they call them.

-Those of us who are old enough to remember will freaking riot over the "Han shot first" argument, because we knew that there was no way in hell Han would sit and let Greedo take a shot at him, ESPECIALLY since they freaking showed it first, then changed it later.

-It's why we all hate M. Night. Shyamalan's fucking guts, because he took the single greatest cartoon masterpiece ever created, and tried to make it better. The one scene that sticks out to me is when they're trying to escape the earth-bending prison camp. First, they had to be removed from the land entirely, or their pride would cause a rebellion instantly; second, 6 benders did what we see Toph do her first lesson as a blind toddler. Unlike Lucas, Shyamalan wasn't trying to appease anyone. He just wanted a name for himself, so he decided to take on the most popular cartoon ever. Pass or fail, he has that fame now.

Some of the fault might lie with the director, or possibly even the actor himself. Michael Gambon is a respected actor, and probably had a sense for how the character would play, even if that sense might not have been based in the books. Couple that with multiple directors by this point, multiple actors having playing Dumbledore, and the books still gradually coming out, and the information and range for the character of Dumbledore might have been quite limited.

And let's not forget those cuts that needed to be made. With a shorter story comes a need to get the information across faster.

Instead of mulling it over for a moment while the rest of the group argues (and probably for a good year or so by this point), and calmly asking Harry if he entered himself in the tournament, the quick explosion both saves time by cutting the opening argument AND gives the audience a cue for suspense. They know something is wrong NOW, and they don't know what, but they'll find out as the people on screen do.

Personally, I believe that this system can be broken by a rather simple solution: TV show.

Instead of one movie, each book gets one Season, and every couple chapters or so gets an episode. I foresee problems as we get to the later books as opposed to the early one, since they start getting thick AF with GoF.

But I think the pros outweigh the cons.

-The locations for HP are actually incredibly limited. They pretty much go back and forth between the same dozen locations all seven books, so you could make sets to switch out whenever needed, and just reuse the exact same sets for seven straight years, with little to no change in between.

- We have all of the books now, and then some, and then some extra BS on top of that, and the plethora of headcanon out there, so we have more than enough information for every single thing about this place, excluding literal physical dimensions. Find a kid who looks like Harry, another actor who can flawlessly pull off Snape, and some old guy who wants to be goofy sometimes, and you've got gold.

- We could actually include the minor characters too. Peeves could pop in and out every few episodes, Dobby can play the role he was meant for, Kreacher can exist as more than 3 lines. The vanishing cabinet could actually be introduced in year 2, then addressed in Year 5, then revealed properly in year 6. Moaning Myrtle has her scenes, Bill Weasley has his, Tonks could be the most important female character besides Hermione or Ginny.....

Anyway, you get the picture. This whole thing was inspired by one comment, and I've been working on this for almost 6 hours now. Pretty sure I've worked harder in this post than any papers in high school...

Hollywood, if by some miracle you see this, I'll totally be a screen writer for the Harry Potter TV show. In the meantime, goodnight.

#harry potter series #harry potter #albus dumbledore #dumbledore #draco malfoy #ron weasley #hermione granger #sirius black #molly weasley

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tessatechaitea · 5 years ago

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Superman: Up in the Sky #4

Best DC cover ever or greateast DC cover ever? Those are the only two choices.

Die Tasche. Die Tasche? DieTasche! Die Tasche. Shtop.

The story begins with somebody talking about a race for charity between Superman and The Flash. They say it was televised and that people bought tickets to sit along the route and watch it. Seems like a huge scam to me. How long could it actually take Flash to run around the Earth ten times? Like fifteen seconds? I could probably do the math on it but I don't want to show off. But this story assumes that Flash and Superman didn't run so fast that people couldn't at least see them blur by. So this kid telling the story says that Lex Luthor offered to double the money to charity if Superman loses. And Superman heard it with his super-hearing which meant Superman was going to just have to win no matter what! He'd just have to believe he was faster than The Flash and then be faster than The Flash. Because that's how comic books work. What makes a hero is the secret reserve of strength and will and confidence that only appears when the hero is about to be defeated. People who are defeated aren't heroes because they don't have that reserve. They are losers. Big stupid losers. Did you die from your cancer? Not a hero, jerk. Did you fail to get that promotion at work because you didn't complete the project a hero would have completed at the last minute? Total loser. Did one of your kids drown in the pool because you gave up on the CPR like a big jerko loser dumb-dumb? Yeah. Not a hero. Maybe even a villain! But Superman, being a hero, now had to win the race for charity! And The Flash apparently isn't a hero because where were his secret reserves to beat Superman? What an idiotic failure. Although I haven't finished the story yet! Maybe Superman is still going to lose just like the cover implies! I bet the point of this story is that Superman loses sometimes but nobody ever gives up hope in him! And he always tries his hardest! And maybe even before the race, he made a bet in Vegas that Lex Luthor would bet a billion dollars against him which would pay off like a billion to one!

Lame. Superman wins.

Superman wins but the dumb kid telling the story doesn't explain how. The kid just goes on and on about contradictions but totally uses the word incorrectly. Like saying "Superman is faster than a speeding bullet" is a contradiction. Is it? How? If Superman is faster than a speeding bullet than he's faster than a speeding bullet and that's not a contradiction! Stupid idiot kid. The kid is so dumb I bet the kid got the story wrong and just made it up to make herself feel better. Because the kid telling the story is the girl that Superman is looking for and she has to believe that Superman can do the impossible (like win a race against The Flash) or else she's just going to rot on whatever planet she's lost on. So the story is about hope or something. Superman hopes and so Superman does. It's kind of like Oprah's Secret, I guess? It doesn't make any sense but since it's Superman, you always know he's going to win. Even that time he died, he won by killing Doomsday as well. So see? Blade was wrong. You should always bet on red! And blue! The second story is also about hope. Hey! Are all these stories about the hope Superman gives people?! I've been duped! I thought this was going to be a bunch of stories about how hard Superman can punch bad guys! Stupid DC Comics hiring some intellectual namby-pamby like Tom King! Writing stories that are all, "Superman shows how faith and hope can inspire us to be better than we are!" Whatever! I hope the next issue is about Superman punching a gigantic space monster! Superman: Up in the Sky #4 Rating: Oh yeah! The second story was about Superman interacting with Clark Kent because they were struck by magic space lightning and separated into two unique people. As if that's a thing! Somehow Superman's Kryptonian DNA makes him all logical and shit while his human upbringing makes him all emotional and valiant and sacrificial and awesome! Isn't that the way it always is? Humans are the greatest beings in the universe because they know how to cry while reading Shakespeare! Everybody else in the universe is a boring old rational Vulcan! If another alien species is allowed to be emotional, they only get one emotion. Like how Klingons are angry and Ferrengi are sneaky and Romulans have huge cocks and Guardians of the Universe are assholes. Only humans have mastered the spectrum of emotion and that makes them the best! Go Clark Kent! You teach that Superman a thing or two about hope! Now merge with him again for next issue and get to punching shit!

#Superman #Up in the Sky #DC Comics #DC #Tom King #Andy Kubert #Sandra Hope

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a-fools-jester · 6 years ago

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Hello there! I really love your writing! You capture the characters personalities and interactions very well and I always enjoy your stories. You said you wanted irondad prompts, so maybe something like Peter finds an abandoned kitten one day before going to work ((let’s be honest: just hang)) with Tony and doesn’t know how to tell him/worries he’ll be annoyed so he just tries to hide the cat while he’s with Tony, but Tony notices him fidgeting etc. and is just like “kid wtf?” Until Peter caves

In Peter’s defense, the kitten was alone and obviously abandoned, left in a box next to the garbage bin he used to keep his backpack webbed to while he was out being Spider-Man. The little fella had orange fur and pretty green eyes. “Hey, I’m Peter,” he whispered to the kitten, rubbing him behind the ears. “What’s your name, hmm?” He checked the back of the box for a phone number or a name, but alas, he found nothing but the words FREE TO A GOOD HOME.Problem: he was running late for his Stark Internship. He and Mr. Stark had always met at 4:30 on Tuesdays and Saturdays, an unspoken agreement between the two of them that Peter would come in for “work” that day. Problem number 2: he was most definitely not going to leave the kitten in a box next to some dumpster but he had no time to take it anywhere else. MJ was too far, he wasn’t close enough to home, and Ned was allergic to cats.

“What am I going to do with you, little guy?” he asked the kitten who did nothing but cling to his shirt with his little paws. Well, that was that then. There was literally no other choice. “Alright, alright. Stay in my backpack for a little while, okay? I’ll leave it open for you so you can breathe but you can’t jump out, okay?”Once little Jam was secure and content, Peter put the backpack on his chest, wrapping his arms around his little secret and running as fast as he could towards the compound. He made it in record time (thank god for being fast) and skipped security, going straight to the elevator. “Alright, it’s 4:37. Not bad, Jam. Not bad at all,” he cooed before he paused. “You’re gonna have to stay in my bag, alright? I’m not sure if Mr. Stark would… well, I’m not sure how he’d feel about having a cat around.”The moment he said it, anxiety filled his stomach with lead. Did Mr. Stark have a cat allergy?Would he be annoyed with Peter for being late and having nothing to show for it except for a small stray kitten?Was this Mr. Stark’s line of everything he was willing to accept? Peter shuffled from foot to foot, putting the backpack behind him. Mr Stark had accepted that he was a teenager with only a little bit of teasing, had accepted the fact that he was a mess and didn’t obey orders while taking down the Vulture with exasperation and mild frustration, but what if he thought this only proved how immature and unready Peter was to be an Avenger? What if he decided Peter wasn’t a good fit to be Spider-Man?Okay, perhaps this wasn’t one of his better ideas.He clutched the straps of his backpack with white-knuckled fists, keeping his head bowed when the elevator opened. The lab was as it always was, and Mr. Stark was hunched over one of the worktables, examining the robot he was working on building. Mr. Stark looked up, meeting his eyes with a nod before he turned back to the robot and gestured for Friday to turn on some of his ‘Brain Stimulating Music’- which, in Peter’s book, meant Old Man Rock.Thankful for Mr. Stark’s distraction Peter took a seat and placed Jam on his lap, opening the zipper a bit to make sure that the little guy didn’t have any trouble breathing. “I need to work on this bot for Pepper, so you go ahead and do your thing for now. I’ll call you when I need you.”Peter nodded, taking out his math book and breathing a small sigh of relief.It can’t be that hard to hide a kitten for a couple hours. Right?The minutes ticked by slowly as Peter did his homework, working on his Pythagorean theorem worksheet for Ms. Benny and studying the scatter plots for Ms. Ann. Some days, he really wished his school didn’t make all the students take math and “advanced math” at the same time, which really didn’t make very much sense. Why didn’t they just teach everything in one class instead of separating things into two subjects?Because now Peter was mentally questioning his existence in two classes instead of one. Smart as he was, he just really didn’t like math. Science was his favorite subject, but math? Torture. Ned would often roll his eyes when Peter let his opinion on the subject be known because even if it was torture, he usually got good marks. But still…Whoever invented math must have been a sadist.As Peter struggled and stared at his textbook with the blank expression of a student going through finals, Tony observed the kid arachnid. He was being weird. Less bubbly and talkative than usual, fidgety, not meeting Tony’s eyes, didn’t ask about what Tony was building. Something was off about him. Tony didn’t like it. It made him feel on edge.Was the kid hurt? Going through something? Upset?They’ve been in the lab for almost an hour now and the kid hadn’t done anything except sit at one of the worktables and do his homework silently which was so unlike him that it made Tony immediately suspicious. The lack of stories about his day and questions about whatever and quips only made Tony even more suspicious. And the fidgeting…“Alright, out with it,” Tony said after waiting another fifteen minutes for Peter to offer an explanation, eyes narrowing when Peter jumped and met his stern gaze with wide eyes. “What’s going on with you?”“Me?” Peter asked, frowning, trying to not panic as Jam crawled out of the backpack on Peter’s lap. “There’s absolutely nothing- nghhh! Um, nothing wrong with me. Sir.” Peter shifted, wincing in discomfort when little Jam decided on using his shirt as a scratching post. The shirt he was currently wearing. The thin shirt which did not protect the soft flesh underneath it in the slightest. Luckily, the work table was high enough that it kept his lap and lower body hidden from Mr. Stark across the room. Not so luckily, Jam kept on scratching his stomach and it hurt.Tony’s eyes narrowed further, looking almost like he was trying to use X-ray vision on Peter. “You’re being really quiet, you came in late, you’re being all-” he gestured vaguely over Peter as he shifted to try and inconspicuously get Jam to stop. “-this. Tell me what’s wrong. Is it May? Her new boyfriend? Some boy at school bother you?”“What? No!” Peter responded immediately, frowning sourly at the mention of May’s new boyfriend. Jake the Joke was what the name Peter put him down under in his contacts list. Ugh. “It’s got nothing to do with Aunt May or Jake or school. There’s nothing wrong, Mr. Stark!”His wincing was not helping his case.Tony walked forward, putting down the screwdriver and scratching his beard. He had a look on his face that Ned and MJ had once called the Dad Face when they came over and Tony saw the nasty bruise on Peter’s jaw. “Listen, Peter…” Tony began, crossing his arms that he suddenly had no idea what to do with. “I’m not usually a heart-to-heart type of guy, alright? Emotions give me acid reflux. They’re not my forte. But if you need someone to talk to, I am here and I will listen and probably give you advice. I’m not sure how reliable said advice will be but it will be given. You’re my mentee and I take my responsibilities seriously- or, well, seriously for my standards. So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong so we can figure out-”Tony stopped, blinking in bafflement, and Peter’s mind supplied him with a vine he saw that was relevant to his situation- the one with Jessie J going n-n-n-n-n-no no no no NO NO NONO.“Is that a kitten on your lap right now, Peter?” Tony asked, voice torn between being angry and laughing. “What the fuck, kid?”“Mr. Stark, I can explain-”Tony gestured to the cat. “Explain nothing! You’ve been here for an hour being all weird and I thought you had some type of problem and it’s- A cat! You brought a cat to the lab! Jesus. Anxiety issues, remember? I honest-to-god thought there was something wrong.”Peter nodded, shifting and placing Jam on the table now that it was out in the open. “I know, sir, and I’m sorry but Jam was alone and he was next to a garbage can and I was already- I was already running late so I just took him and ran here. I wasn’t sure if you’d let me take a cat in here or get mad so I just… didn’t tell you.”“Jam?” Tony repeated, bending over to look at the little ball of fur closer. “You named it?”“Yes?” Peter responded, looking sheepish, eyes soft in that horrible way that Tony firmly believed should be illegal. That was unfair. Peter using his puppy-dog eyes meant that Tony’s chances of being angry were greatly reduced by 40-50 percent.Jam took Tony’s lack of attention to move forward and nuzzle closer to him and he sighed. Goddammit. He really wanted to be upset about this entire thing but it seemed the universe wasn’t going to allow it. “Alright, maybe he’s not too bad for a little mouser. Are you going to take him home?” He looked up, catching Peter’s shifty eyes with a frown. “Well, actually…”“Oh no! No no no no, sir! Under no conditions is this creature going to stay here with me!” With his record, the thing would be dead within a week. Most things he came into contact with often suffered from that fate. Or maybe the kitten would make Tony fall into a false sense of safety and contentment and then run off with a team of strays, leaving Tony all alone again. Cat-tain Apurrica. “Mr. Stark, please? I’ve always wanted a pet and Aunt May always said no because our apartment complex doesn’t allow them-”“Then move. Easy peasy. I’ll pay for the entire goddamn transition if needed, but this-” “-and- and it would only be for a little while until I can either convince Aunt May or Ned or maybe MJ-”“-cat is not going to stay with me!”“-to let Jam stay with them. Please, Mr. Stark! I promise I’ll be super duper good on missions and I’ll do anything you want. Please.” There was a beat of silence. Tony met Peter’s eyes, which were cranked up to 11 on the puppy-dog scale. Again, unfair, but Tony was also doing his best stern glare so it might be a little bit more acceptable. Tony spent the silence telling himself every reason why he should not let the cat stay in the compound with him.He wasn’t fond of cats. (Not completely true, his mother had one.)He was too busy. (Not busy enough to keep his mind clear.)He was irresponsible. He wasn’t good at taking care of things. (True.)He couldn’t even take care of himself very well. (Also true.)He didn’t care about some stupid cat Peter brought in and wasn’t going to be the sole caretaker of it simply because Peter asked. (Well…)They stood there in a silent staring contest, a battle of wills going on between them. “Please?” Peter said after a few moments of silence, eyes pleading. “Anything?” Tony asked, putting his hands in his front pockets, his expression thoughtful. “Anything.”With a defeated sigh, Tony nodded. “Alright. You’re going to go with Pepper to the upcoming gala. You need some experience being at social events like that anyway, and I definitely do not want to go.”“Isn’t that the one that's… dedicated to you?” Peter responded, perplexed. “You're… not going to attend the party that’s specifically meant to show you how much you mean to the world?” Tony nodded jerkily. “Having hundreds of thousands of people confess their love to me got tiring after a few years. You’ll be fine.”Peter considered his options. He really, really didn’t like parties that were big and grand, but… “If I go you’ll let Jam stay here?”“You have my word.”Peter bit his lip, nodding. “I’ll go.”Tony flashed him a thumbs up, grabbing a screwdriver and tossing it Peter’s way. Peter caught it easily, not needing to break eye contact with Tony. “Come here, show me what you can do with this bot. Work your magic.” With a grin, Peter walked forward, carrying Jam and taking him to the other worktable so he could be nearby while Peter worked. Tony watched him with an intense look, but it wasn’t awkward like it would be if it was anyone else because it was Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark kept watching him as he attached the two servo ports to the serializer, only humming from time to time in approval or surprise at his choices with the robot. The hours passed quicker after that and when day turned into night, Mr. Stark suggested he stay and give May a text to let her know. They put on a movie and ordered a pizza, sitting in the lounge with Jam laying down between them. Mr. Stark got Happy to buy some cat supplies and the bemused man did so with only a few quips, bringing Jam some food, a bed, toys and a purple collar with a heart nametag that said ‘If lost, return to Spider-Man or Iron Man’. Peter remembered how the compound had been like when he’d first visited, how empty and gray, like the very walls were hungry for light. It felt like a lonely place to stay, let alone live in. There were too many empty spaces, empty rooms, empty silences with nothing but music and one person’s breath to fill it.Peter watched as Jam nuzzled up to Mr. Stark and Mr. Stark had rolled his eyes at that, but Peter saw the way he was smiling at Jam with a fond look in his eyes.Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Sorry this took a while to get done! I hope this is okay because fluff is sorta not my forte hahaha 😅

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pikapikaprecure · 6 years ago

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Pikapika☆Precure Under The Big Top episode 3- Merchandise saves the day!? Return of Takura’s robots!

“Félicité Bow!“ Jubilee summoned her weapon, and fired her arrows, being careful not to get hit by anything. She stepped back, and held her weapon in the air, as did Carnival, Cheer and Parade. “Pretty Cure Cirque Charge!”

The enemy had been defeated, or so the girls thought.

“Miss Adachi! Miss Adachi!”

It was Suzume’s math teacher, Mrs. Kagabu. “Will you answer this question please?”

“Oh! uhhh,” Suzume looked to her notes “forty-nine.”

“Correct.”

Suzume had never been a daydreamer, but lately this Pretty Cure thing had been taking up a lot of her mind lately. She was constantly thinking about who would attack next. It really stressed her out, but at least she could vent to Ellie. Just not in school. She would have to wait until she got home, and that she did.

As soon as she stepped into her house, Suzume ran into her room, and unattached Ellie from her backpack. “I’m nervous,” she said, without hesitation.

“About what-oh. That’s completely normal. Any Earthling would be.”

“I mean, I think we’re gonna win, but what if we all die?”

“You won’t die, I promise.”

“You better fucking mean that.”

“I do.”

“Good.”

No more than a minute later, Emica burst into the room, sitting on her bed. “Suzu! Suzu! Suzu! Suzu!”

Suzume let out an exasperated sigh. “Whaaaaat?”

“I promised my friend Kaede I would come to her house today! She got toys for the new Precure team, and I wanna see!”

“Is it really that important to you?”

“Yes!!! Please?”

“Ugh, fine. Get out of uniform first, though.”

“No! I want to go NOW!”

“Fine, then. Let’s go NOW. Come on, come on, come on.” Suzume picked up her sister and brought her downstairs. Then, she pushed her out the door, slamming it behind her. “We’re gonna walk to Kaede’s now, let’s go.”

Luckily, Kaede’s house was just two blocks away. Kaede was already sitting on the porch, that crappy merchandise in a pile on her lap. Suzume always hated Precure merch, but now that she was the one being commercialized off of, she despised it even more. “Yeah, have fun,” she told her sister, walking off to go back home.

“Boo!”

Suzume turned around. Tamiko was right behind her.

“Were you following me?”

“No, just found you. I live right across the street. Wanna hang out at my place for a little while? Or we could go to the rink or something.”

Suzume was shocked. Did this girl, who hated her for a pretty long time, just invite her over? “Is this some sort of practical joke?”

“Nope!”

“But I thought you hated me...”

Tamiko started cracking up. “You seriously fell for that?”

“For what?”

“Me hating you! It’s all just for attention! Now that we’re not in public, we can be friends!”

“I’m not even that popular, you made me so mad I called you a-”

“If I went for anyone more popular, everyone would hate me.”

Suzume was not having it, so she continued on her walk home, too angry to notice Tamiko’s visible disappointment.

When Suzume got home, she immediately went to her room to check on Ellie, who was fast asleep until the door was opened. “Suzume!” Ellie squealed. “Wanna go to the circus and practice your magic?”

“Um, why the hell not? Should we get the others?”

“Of course! You know where they live?”

“Well I worked on a project with Airi once, so I know where she lives. None of the others, though.”

“Well let’s go to Airi’s.” And that they did. When the pair got to her front door, Airi’s mother answered. “Uhh, hey...” Suzume told her, strategically hiding Ellie, who forgot to go to keychain form, behind her back. “I’m Suzume, from Airi’s class. We’re working on something together, uhh, I don’t know if she told you but we need to go survey people all over Horitori for a study. You know where she is?”

“Yep! She’s in her room. Want me to grab you girls some to go snacks?”

“That would be so nice of you! Please do!”

Not more than a minute later, Airi was downstairs, with a bag of cookies. She closed the door, immediately addressing Suzume. “What is this town survey and why haven’t I been told about it?”

Suzume gestured to the compact peeking out of Airi’s purse.

“Oh,” Airi replied. “I know where Aina lives, she’s just up the block. Should we go get her?”

“Of course!” Ellie answered.

So, the trio went to Aina’s house, only to be stopped by Aina herself. “Yeah, I figured you’d be around here, let’s go.”

“Are you psychic?” Airi asked.

“Nope! Just got a good sense of what’s going on. Where’s Noa?”

“No idea,” Suzume answered.

“We’ll probably find her,” Aina said. “Let’s get going.”

Airi hesitated. “Are you so sure we should just-”

“Yep.” Aina replied. “Are we going or not?”

Aina was right. Noa was found outside the park on the way over. The group made their way to the circus, where Stripe and Whiskers were waiting for them, weapons in hand. Airi was about to put her key in her compact.

“Not yet!” Stripe yelled. “First, you must familiarize yourself with your weapons.” Whisker handed the weapons to their respective owners.

“Alright Aina, you first.”

Aina held up the Bonheur Wand.

“Pikapika Dream Blast!!”

Aina repeated.

Meanwhile, Airi and Noa were working with Stripe to learn spells with the Chanceux Sword and the Fête Ribbon.

On the other side of the tent, Ellie was having a hard time teaching Suzume how to use the Félicité Bow. Suzume was also confused, she seemed to do good with it the other day. Maybe she needed to be transformed? Now that Suzume thought of it, she didn’t fire too much, it was mostly used for that group attack. Either way, she was having a hard time. Ellie painted a target onto a nearby prop to see if that would help with aim. It didn’t. Both of them were frustrated.

“Alright Suzume,” Ellie said. “I didn’t think you would have such a hard time. Try again.”

Suzume tried again, and for the tenth time, the arrow landed on the floor. “I quit.”

“No! Don’t quit! Keep trying. Here, I’ll give you some tips. See all those stars?” Ellie gestured to the star pattern on the bow’s handle. Those will give you better grip. Try holding the bow from those.”

Suzume did so.

“Stand with your feet apart. Be very careful near the arrow. Take a deep breath, and fire!”

Suzume followed Ellie’s instructions. She prepared to fire, but there was a sudden, loud rip in the circus tent. Suzume ran to see what caused the rip, and the fairies followed her. It was Indigo, along with two other, identical robots.

Same pale white metal, same small, bright red eyes, same otherworldly vibe. Suzume just assumed that all of Takura’s robots are the same, the only difference was power, because aren’t the bad guys supposed to get more powerful? At least that’s what Emica and her friends say.

The three robots grabbed onto Airi, Aina, and Noa. Luckily, there wasn’t another to grab Suzume, so she helped push them out so the four girls could transform together.

“Magic circus jubilee change!“

“Magic circus carnival change!”

“Magic circus parade change!”

“Magic circus cheer change!”

“For the happiness of the world! The Pretty Cure of beauty and grace! Cure Jubilee!”

“For the happiness of the world! The Pretty Cure of bravery and friendship! Cure Carnival!“

“For the happiness of the world! The Pretty Cure of creativity and love! Cure Parade!”

“For the happiness of the world! The Pretty Cure of peace and hope! Cure Cheer!”

The Cures begun to chase the robots, until they were in the middle of the street. They kept on going until they were right by Kaede’s house. Jubilee would have kept going but she saw Kaede on her balcony, cheering. She went inside and came out with Emica. “Hey, look, we’ve got fans!” Carnival whispered to the others. Jubilee knew that to Emica, seeing this fight live would be amazing. “I think we’ll stop here,” she told the rest of the group. Carnival ran over to the three robots, and repeatedly kicked them one by one. Jubilee joined in. When Parade also decided to join in, each girl took one robot. Cheer sat out for a minute, but eventually summoned her ribbon. “Pikapika golden tangle!” She called, which extended the ribbon to the robots and tied it around the three of them, with just enough time for the Cures to escape.

Indigo lifted his arm over the ribbon. It looked like he was going to do something, but he didn’t. He just waited.

Meanwhile, the girls decided it would be best to perform an attack.

“Chanceux Sword!”

“Bonheur Wand!”

“Félicité Bow!”

The four girls held their weapons in the air.

“Pretty Cure Cirque Cha-”

Indigo moved his hand, and moved the weapons into his possession.

“H-how...” Cheer stuttered.

Jubilee had a sudden realization. Emica said that Kaede had a lot of merchandise for “the new Precure team”, obviously referring to Jubilee and her teammates. These weapons might not be magical, but they could be what they need. “Hey!” Jubilee shouted up at the balcony. “You got any merch?”

“Yep!” Kaede responded.

“She has all the merch!!!” Emica exclaimed.

“Toss it down here!” Jubilee told the younger girls.

Kaede and Emica threw it all down.

“What are you doing?” Parade asked Jubilee.

“Just watch.” Jubilee grabbed the replica of her bow.

Cheer, catching on, grabbed the merchandise of her ribbon and tied it on Indigo’s hand and the traces of her real weapon.

Jubilee remembered what Ellie told her before.

“Stand with your feet apart. Be very careful near the arrow. Take a deep breath, and fire!”

Being very careful, Jubilee separated her feet and straightened her back. She held the arrow right by the star pattern on the handle, and fired!

That cheap plastic arrow seemed to have done the trick. It broke the invisible barrier keeping the weapons away from the Cures, and they could finally attack.

“Pretty Cure Cirque Charge!”

As soon as they spoke those words, all that was left of the robots was a pile of scrap metal. The girls gasped. They had defeated their first enemies.

Kaede and Emica came down to grab their merchandise, and with a lot of persuasion, got them to sign it. Much to Carnival’s pleasure and Jubilee’s dismay, a few selfies were also involved.

Emica looked up at the girls and smiled. “There’s a reason I love Precure so much.”

“And what would that be?” Parade asked.

“Moments like this! You guys always win, and defeat the bad guys! You keep our world safe! I wanna be like you one day.”

“And maybe one day you will,” Ellie said. “Thanks for your help.”

When Suzume got home, she was mor than happy to let Emica show off all the selfies she got, including a video of the Cures saying “Hi Suzume!” (That one was awkward.) Normally she would be annoyed, but, although Emica didn’t know it, she made her happy today. There was no better feeling than that.

#pikapika precure under the big top #precure #pretty cure #precure fandom #precure fanseries #pretty cure fanseries #fancure

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scathecraw · 6 years ago

Text

Upon the Rock - Chapter 1 - Normal

So I started writing again, and I figured I’d give fanfiction a shot. I’ve got several chapters already out on ff.net and Ao3 under the same name, so if you want to read ahead, by all means.

The subway rattled along, same as it ever did. Nothing ever really changed, Billy mused, on his way to a school he was bored of, with classmates that thought it was fun to pick on him. When he remembered it was Monday, he sighed with the realization that he'd have to try to fit in all the usual work the school assigned before helping clean the group home in time to meet the foster parents looking to interview. It rarely happened. ‘Oh well. I can probably find the change for a soda to stay awake and finish. Maybe. At least I get Mondays off at the station,’ he mused. He scrounged his bag for coins until his stop approached.

The train slowed and stopped, allowing the normal early morning press of students in uniforms, businessmen in their constricting looking ties, and the last few laborers of the morning. Billy couldn't shoulder his way through like most did, but he slipped through the throng and slid his way out of the car and up the stairs, for once thankful he was short.

The walk was as uneventful as the ride, and as deep in thought as Billy was, he nearly missed his friend Freddy on the entrance stairs. “Billy. Billy. Hey! Man, are you ok? You look beat.”

Billy’s face-splitting yawn gave lie to his garbled denial, but Freddy just laughed as he prodded Billy along with his crutch. ‘His leg must not be troubling him today,’ Billy thought, allowing himself to be ushered up the last steps and into the entrance of Fawcett High.

He wasn't distracted enough to miss the usual crowd of burnouts that spent most mornings harassing Freshmen, though. Freddy was a common target of theirs, despite being taller than some of them and a sophomore. “It started,” Freddy had explained, “with being crippled. But my mouthing off to them is what made sure I was their favorite.”

Billy had always been privately sure that it had something to do with hanging around the Honors class enrolled, secondhand clothes wearing, freshman aged Billy. Not that Freddy would ever admit it.

In unspoken agreement, they attempted to time their approach to blend in with the crowd. The average student was kind enough to avoid jostling Freddy, so their chameleon approach was defeated by the empty space around them and the empty space that always seemed to surround the bullies. This early in the morning, the harassment was never much. Just enough to give a bad start to the day. This morning it was limited to just some malicious laughter and a barely audible “Cripple.” Freddy breezed past, but Billy stopped short for just a moment, and only resumed walking when Freddy said, quietly, “C’mon. It’s not worth it.” Billy scowled and, once he had caught up, said “It is to me. You’re ten times better than they are.” Freddy just laughed and said, “I know. I don’t need to get beat up to prove it.”

Classes were as they always were. Honors chemistry, honors math, honors english, each assigning work like they were the only one that mattered, and then a too-short lunch that Billy ate alone while trying to get a head start on the work. Mr. Hayman, the group home leader, had packed him a peach. For all his stuck-up behavior and lectures, making sure Billy had his favorite fruit to enjoy at school showed how much he cared.

After lunch, heading upstairs to his slew of afternoon classes, he saw Freddy heading down lunchroom. His head was down, and he was moving fast. Billy was too far away to get his attention, and he didn't seem to want to wait around. Freddy always tried to get out of the hallway as fast as he could, and never relied on the always hovering excuse of his leg. As the press of students intensified and the jostling backpacks and traffic jams buffeted Billy back and forth, he thought that maybe hurrying to class wasn’t such a bad idea.

The afternoon proceeded much the same as the morning, but with more sneaking of his other classes’ homework. By the time the day was done, his work was nearly so. After his last class, he felt free to move with a little more leisure. Freddy’s ride didn’t come until nearly 4, and he had the timing to the Subway down pat to still get the fast train back to the home. He could take his time and get to the first floor before Freddy was ready to leave his last - and worst - class.

He reached the door just as Freddy walked out, calling out his thanks to his teacher for the extra help. When he noticed Billy, he said with a smile “Got all my Lit work done. Why do I keep you around for help when I can have Ms. Morsen explain it, again?”

Laughing, BIlly responded “Because she can teach you Lit, but she’s not the one who stays up writing your papers with you and pity laughing at your jokes.”

When Freddy slung his arm over Billy’s shoulder, he knew that Freddy was feeling good that day. He almost never risked taking his crutch’s arm brace off in public, and was hardly putting any weight on Billy’s shoulder. They walked, separating before they reached the stairs in front of the school, planning to wait there until the van Freddy rode had arrived.

“You crashed last night before you told me your favorite superhero.” Freddy said, carefully stretching his leg as he sat.

Billy scoffed, “That’s because you talked to me about your crush on Wonder Woman for two hours. I must’ve passed out from boredom.”

“Oh yeah, right. I talked about how cool she was. Her being attractive doesn’t have a thing to do with it.”

“Keep telling yourself that buddy. I dunno, anyway. I don’t really have a favorite. Probably just Superman.”

Freddy pulled a face at that. “What a cop-out. Everybody’s favorite is Superman. It’s boring.”

“Fine then, Mr. I’m-So-Smart. Flash. He’s funny and everybody likes him. Plus he seems like a lot more fun than most of the rest of them.”

The conversation devolved into friendly ribbing and Freddy’s crush on Wonder Woman from there.

Just as the last bell of the day rang to release the kids held back for detention, the van Freddy rode in pulled up.

Billy was almost pulled off balance as he helped Freddy up and walked with him to the van, trying to get a little more hanging out done before the night’s chores and watching the younger kids.

Freddy pulled Billy onwards, ignoring the same upperclassmen that had mocked him that morning, moving between the back of the van and the front of an empty bus to put his bag in. Just as Freddy was closing the door, Billy was shouldered to the side, tripping on the curb and falling hard on his bookbag, the breath whooshing out of him. Freddy was instead pushed hard against the grille of bus, three rough looking jerks shoving their way to surround him. Faster than Billy could get up, or even call out, the shortest of the lot had grabbed the crutch Freddy had been casually holding and tossed it aside, nearly hitting Billy.

“Look guys, the cripple can walk without his cane! It’s a miracle,” the bulkier one said, pushing Freddy back up against the grille and held him there with a hand.

“Back off, Kyle.” Freddy said, somehow looking confident even with the odds stacked against him. “It’s more a miracle you were even allowed back after screwing your grades so badly you got kicked off the football team.”

A knee to the bad leg was all it took for Freddy to crumple with a gasp of pain, and Kyle let him slump to the ground.

Billy had stood up with the cane, but was motivated to do more when the tall one on the far side spit onto Freddy as he lay curled around his leg and wound up to kick him while he was down.

He didn’t think of a clever quip, or really think at all when he said “Hey, jerk,” and promptly jabbed Kyle in the gut with the crutch as he turned. The enormity of what he did dawned very quickly on him after that, and he dropped the crutch and ducked away from Kyle’s wild swing in his direction. Wild-eyed, he did the only thing that made sense to him when faced with such overwhelming odds. He turned and sprinted away. The chase was brutal. The older boys had longer legs and weren’t burdened by their backpacks, and all Billy had was familiarity with the direction and nimble feet to sneak through closing gaps in pedestrian crowds.

The route he took was longer than his normal path, but he managed to reach the subway with practised timing, approaching the passage down as the train disgorged its exiting passengers and dodging a grasping hand long enough to slide down the railing of the stairs. He slapped his wallet onto the RFID reader and slid through the turnstile, barely aware of his pursuit hopping the gate to chase him. He stepped into the train as the doors closed and turned, just in time to take a fist to his nose through the closing portal, knocking him down for a second time that day.

With his nose throbbing, he hardly noticed the hand that helped him off the ground, and especially didn’t notice the dirty nails or shaggy beard of the man he was thanking for his help. “No problem,” he responded, smiling wide and asking “Got any change?”

Billy smiled back, suppressing a sigh and fishing out the change he had gathered that morning. The man smiled even wider and said “Thank you, son. You should get that nose looked at when you can.”

“I will, sir,” Billy said as he placed his bag on the seat and took a close look at his reflection in the window.

A shadow passed over the traincar while he was looking closely at himself, and he didn’t notice that the car was emptier and quieter without seeming to change at all. There was a chill in the air that seemed out of season to the spring thaw, and the shadows seemed to come faster and longer, the wheels of the train clacking faster and faster. Billy noticed this all in a rush, and fell flat against his seat. His breath came faster, visible in the chill. Sparks crawled over the doors and the now darkened overhead lights, and he screamed as the wheels and tracks merged their howling into one cacophonous roar.

Just as suddenly, it stopped. The scream caught in his throat as the doors opened to a stop he had never seen, all old stone and distant lights in the tunnel. The lights stayed out, and the doors stayed open, and the eerie silence of the place would have convinced him it was a dream except for his heavy breaths and the persistent throbbing of his nose.

A voice whispered, far down the tunnel, carrying over the still air. He strained his ears listening, hearing three words, repeated over and over. “Come to me,” it said. And Billy found his legs moving on autopilot as he walked to the door.

He stepped out into the darkness.

#shazam #fanfic #superman

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imagine-knb · 7 years ago

Text

First Argument [Kasamatsu Yukio]

"If it's bothering you so much, you should go and apologize, Senpai."

Kasamatsu chewed his lunch slowly, staring at the cellphone he had set in his lap as he allowed his blonde teammate to talk. He mentally willed it to vibrate, signaling him for a new incoming message, but he knew it would be a long shot before that would actually happen. He had just gotten finished explaining to Kise what had happened between himself and [Name] the day prior, though he hadn't mentioned her name, and he had started to feel a bit better after getting it off his chest. He wasn't completely healed from the ordeal however, seeing as he hadn't heard from the Seirin female ever since the argument occurred.

He didn't know how it had ended up this way. Kasamatsu and [Name] were sitting at the table in his kitchen, the both of them slowly getting frustrated as time went on. She had a pencil in her hand, furiously scratching out answers on a piece of paper set before her. Every so often she would flip the pencil around so she could erase a mistake. Kasamatsu was sitting next to her, his knees bouncing up and down in a fidgeting motion as he watched her work. After a while, she sighed heavily, setting her pencil down beside the paper.

"W-Wait, Kasamatsu-kun, I don't really understand."

Kasamatsu groaned in annoyance for the hundredth time that day, taking the worksheet from the girl's hands with his own shaking ones before working through the problem himself. As he worked on the word problem, he explained his steps to the first year, hoping that she would finally understand. Glancing over in her direction a few times, he noticed that she was watching his hands intently, earnestly trying to comprehend the steps he was taking to get his answer.

"Oh, I see," she said after a moment once he had finished the math problem. "So you use that equation in order to solve this type of problem. It seems so much simpler now that you've explained it."

Taking the paper back from him, she moved on to the next question. Her fingers drummed on his kitchen table as she read through the next word problem. Every so often she would pick up her pencil and circle key words and phrases she thought applied to the math equation. Once she had finished reading the word problem, she paused and thought about it for a while. After a minute, she picked up her pencil and balanced it on her upper lip, her thoughts not quite focused on the problems before her. When Kasamatsu noticed she had yet again become distracted, he grunted, effectively gaining her attention.

"Oh, the math problem," she said through half lidded eyes as she skimmed through it once more. After reading it for a second time, she looked at him seriously. "I don't get this one either."

Kasamatsu felt a frustrated growl reverberate in the back of his throat as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn it, this isn't that hard, [Name]-chan."

His sudden brashness caused [Name] to bristle and she instantly felt defensive. Her pencil fell from her upper lip as she sat up straight to face Kasamatsu. It rolled away from her easily, slipping off the table and noisily landing onto the tiled floor below. Both teens paid it no mind as they fixed each other with a glare.

"It is for me," [Name] retorted, crossing her arms in front of her chest with a huff. "Of course you think this stuff is easy. You've already taken it and passed. I'm two years younger than you, Kasamatsu-kun. I haven't even seen half the things this worksheet is talking about yet."

Kasamatsu rolled his eyes a bit, pointing at the paper. For a moment, his shakiness was forgotten as his mind was overcome with frustrated anger. "All the equations you need are on the front of the sheet of paper. All you have to do is copy them down and fill in the blanks. It's seriously not that hard."

"But I don't understand the equations," [Name] whined, pushing the paper away from her. "We haven't learned any of this stuff yet!"

"I've been explaining it to you for the last half hour. If you would just pay attention while I'm showing you how to do it, you would know by now!"

"I do pay attention while you explain. I've been paying attention this entire time! Your explanations are just really crappy!"

"They're not crappy," Kasamatsu replied angrily.

This argument was going nowhere and he was started to lose his patience. As he closed his eyes to fight off harsh words, Kasamatsu continued to listen as [Name] yelled and complained. Between his emotions fluctuating from extremely angry to slightly frustrated and [Name] yelling at him about his teaching style, Kasamatsu was starting to feel a small headache forming. It reminded him of a time where Kise had been particularly annoying at school and Kasamatsu could feel his fist clench as he compared that situation to the one currently at hand. Before he knew it, his mouth had opened and a familiar insult had slipped passed his lips.

"It's not my fault you're just too stupid to understand this stuff!"

Realizing what he had said, Kasamatsu looked towards [Name] with wide eyes. He hadn't meant to insult her in such a way and he wanted to apologize, but the moment he opened his mouth to do so only incomprehensible syllables sputtered forth from his vocal cords. He noticed how she had gone silent the moment his insult left his mouth and she was staring at the piece of paper before her on the table. He couldn't see her eyes from the angle she was facing, but he judged that they were squinted in anger due to the present frown that marred her face. Her hands, which had been gripping onto the edge of the table, tightened their hold and he could see her knuckles turn white. Suddenly she stood from her seat, stooping low to pick up her pencil before packing it away into her schoolbag along with the math worksheet.

"I should go home." She spoke with a voice that sounded close to apathy and Kasamatsu instantly knew he had once again screwed up big time.

He watched as she grabbed the rest of her personal belongings before heading towards the exit. Kasamatsu could only flinch as he heard his front door slam shut. After she had left, Kasamatsu immediately tried contacting her to apologize, but he was only ever answered with silence. He assumed she had ignored her phone in annoyance. By the next morning, he had left five missed calls and ten text messages.

She answered none of them.

"Senpai, are you listening?" Kise waved a hand in front of the Kaijou third year's face, effectively getting him to look up with a scowl. "Just listen to what I have to say, okay? Trust me."

Kasamatsu sighed, not really wanting to go through with Kise's plan, but seeing as how it had sort of worked the last time, he thought it couldn't hurt to try again. Slumping his shoulders, Kasamatsu nodded to the blonde as a signal that he would listen to whatever crazy scheme the model could cook up this time. As long as it wasn't over the top ridiculous, of course.

[Name] sighed as she watched the final minutes tick by on the classroom's clock. She felt bad for not responding to any of Kasamatsu's messages. Once she had left his house, she had angrily sent her mother a text message that she would be returning home promptly, however, once that single message was sent her phone had died. She had been left to survive the rest of her journey home without any communication. When she had finally recharged her phone it was hours later and she was afraid he would be angry that she hadn't responded right away.

Upon returning home, [Name] had once again tried to study the math worksheet. Being on her own and thinking about the problems in her own way, she had slowly started to come to the conclusion that Kasamatsu hadn't been that bad of a teacher and some of his tips had actually made sense. She felt horrible for mouthing off to him before storming away, but she didn't know how to apologize to the male. Lost in her thoughts, [Name] barely registered the ringing of the final school bell.

"Trouble in paradise?"

[Name] rolled her eyes as she threw a wadded up piece of paper at Kawahara. He only laughed, swatting it away before it could hit him in the face.

"We had an argument yesterday," [Name] admitted, her eyes returning to the notebook that lay open and unused on her desk. "I asked him to tutor me in math and we started yelling at each other when I couldn't understand what he was teaching me. It's my fault, really, but I don't know how to apologize."

Kawahara rolled his eyes as he watched [Name] start to pack up the rest of her things. Once she was finished, they both walked out of the classroom together, waving a farewell to their teacher as they did so.

"Just go up to him and say sorry. Simple as that."

"I don't know if it's that easy…"

The pair stopped just outside the school building where they would have to part ways, Kawahara towards basketball practice and [Name] towards the school gates.

"He's a guy," Kawahara explained as he placed a reassuring hand on [Name]'s shoulder. "We don't need much as an apology."

[Name] nodded, smiling at his encouraging words before separating from him. As she walked, she could hear Kawahara yell something about lingerie doing the trick if words couldn't and she chose to ignore him, a heated blush making its way onto her face. Taking her solo trek towards the school gate, she barely noticed the pair of steel gray eyes searching for her at the entrance of her school. She had to stop herself from yelping in surprise when a hand suddenly reached out and latched onto her upper arm, stopping her from escaping.

"[Name]-chan."

[Name] stared up at the taller male in shock, confused as to why he had showed up in front of her school all of a sudden.

"Kasamatsu-kun? How did you get here so early?"

Kasamatsu looked away from her for a moment, his hand releasing her as he went to cover the blush forming on his cheeks. She noticed how his hand seemed to be shaking a little less today and she wondered if he was finally starting to get used to her presence.

"I-I left early today…" He stammered out. Suddenly his other hand was in her line of sight, his fist tightly clenched around a red rose with its thorns clipped. "H-Here." He shoved the flower into her hands and she couldn't help but be reminded of the time he had asked her to be his girlfriend the first time.

"W-What's this for?" [Name] stuttered in confusion as she absentmindedly brought the flower to her nose. She inhaled its sweet scent, barely aware of the other students pointing and gossiping as they left the school.

"A-An a-apology," Kasamatsu mumbled, scratching at his cheek a bit as he glanced at her to gauge her reaction. "I'm s-sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't h-have said those things."

[Name] frowned a bit, shaking her head and for a moment Kasamatsu panicked as he thought he wasn't forgiven. When she placed a hand over his, lacing her fingers with his own, he felt his body tense. The words she spoke almost didn't register in his mind since he was distracted by her touch, but he forced himself to pay attention.

"I should be the sorry one. I overreacted and said some pretty mean things too." The two stood in silence for a moment as they each considered the other's apology. Squeezing Kasamatsu's hand in her own, [Name] gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll forgive you if you forgive me."

Kasamatsu nodded at the idea, his own small smile playing on his lips. As he did so, [Name] leaned up and pecked him lightly on the lips, leaving him a red, stuttering mess once more.

All had been forgiven.

{EXTRA}

As they walked down the sidewalk towards the station, hands intertwined with each other's, [Name] explained to him how her day had went.

"Oh, by the way," she chimed after a while. "I didn't tell you, but the math test you helped me study for was actually today. We got them back early too, so I already know my grade."

"Oh?" Kasamatsu was honestly curious, lifting a single brow as he looked down at the girl.

"I got a C-," she said, smiling sheepishly. "You really aren't a good teacher, Kasamatsu-kun."

"O-oi, shut up! I-Idiot…"

[Name] grinned. She would have to get used to his flustered insults.

#kasamatsu #cof

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