#no plans to try again cause that's against Da Rules but know in your heart of hearts it would take about 12 seconds to get to the bottom

[oofouchstovehot]

"Allow me to revise a previous statement"

*deletes an old fanfic and posts a new one*

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Partners

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: None

A/N: 

Okay, so this one has a lot behind it. Technically, this is the first request I ever received (I’d say I got this one around late July?). It was 100% my intent to do all three characters, and it still is, but I got caught up in Bakugou’s and kind of konked on the other two. Also I realized how fricking long this was and thought it would be weird to have as a headcanon-y format.

I spent way too much time strategizing this (I remember literally laying in bed from like 2-4 AM rewatching episodes to get Bakugou’s fighting technique down and taking notes while also thinking about my new OC, who debuts here), but I honestly had the most fun writing this??? Like, I was high key using my brain for this and it was fun. Anyway, I hope it didn’t come out too cringey. If you want to talk to me about my OC, please please please come in my inbox, I am so happy to see you there!

I will finish this request! Sometime! When motivation re-strikes me! I’m about half-way done with Kirishima’s and I have a solid idea for Amajiki’s (different quirks).

I really hope you like this! This was new and experimental for me, and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

-Sugar

The class of 1-A stood in a small grouping, facing their teacher, All Might. They were preparing to begin their hero training for the day, anticipating for when the instructor would receive the go-ahead to begin class. Finally, All Might tapped a finger to the piece in his ear, a person on the other end offering confirmation that the grounds were ready.

"All right, young boys and girls," he said. "Today, we're doing some sparring practice in pairs. You will be graded on your tactic and skill."

He began to go over the general rules, which were the same as always; quirks are completely allowed, nothing dirty, he would interfere if he thought necessary. The objective was much like the sports festival where you needed to either immobilize your partner or push them out of bounds, yadda dadda da.

When he finally began listing off teams, you eagerly listened for your own last name to be read off his sheet.

"—Tokoyami and Shouji, (L/N) and Bakugou, Midoriya and—"

There it was! Your name! And a certain someone else's . . . .

Your eyes flicked around your assembled class, easily locating the blond spikes haphazardly sprouting from his head.

If it wasn't your sweet rival, Bakugou Katsuki.

The two of you were at the top of the class, constantly bumping heads on everything from test scores to hero training.

Oh, this is going to be good . . . .

You'd never fought one on one with quirks with each other before, and you already anticipated getting to know how your respective powers might clash. It wasn't as though the thought hadn't crossed your mind before—quite the opposite, in fact.

You felt considerably prepared for your mini battle with how much you'd watched him over the past months; learning his moves, how he thought, anything from what drove him forward to things that made him tick. You'd caught glimpses of Midoriya's hero notebook where he had information on all his classmates, and a part of you cockily doubted that you would even need something like that when it came to how well you knew your rival by now.

Nevertheless, you began to plot out strategies and stretch while you waited your turn, scenarios playing out in your head as you attempted to plan for any move he could try to pull against you.

Your quirk was called Panic. You could affect the fear response in someone's brain with high frequencies. Your signature attacks came from long, loud screams to make someone wet their pants, but you were also perfectly capable of making odd squeaky noises for a tasty sense of looming uneasiness in your opponent. You had learned some combat techniques, but for the most part you did better at long range; trying to immobilize the enemy enough to swoop in unexpected and secure them.

No one was wearing their hero costume, only in their gym uniforms. This would provide a slight disadvantage to you because you didn't have your directional speaker, but it wasn't the most necessary support item. You could function well enough without it.

Every now and then, you'd be knocked out of your meticulous scheming to watch some of your fellow classmates spar. There were a few pairs going at one time, but you were placed in one of the last sets, so you had the advantage of time to strategize. Eventually, however, you were called into one of the training rings, straightening and confidently adjusting your blue and white jacket.

You met Bakugou's fiery red eyes from across the way, teasingly waving at him and smirking. His gaze darted away from yours, stubbornly deciding to glue itself to the floor.

He wouldn't go easy on you. In fact, quite the contrary. You knew he'd give you everything he had and more, and you were more than prepared to do the same for him.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were planted in the loosely packed dirt of the training ring, several meters away from where Bakugou stood across from you, stretching out his arms. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for the signal to go, scraping the most important points you'd worked out earlier to the front of your brain.

After what felt like forever, the siren blared in your ears, causing you to tense, ready to begin your round with your explosive rival.

You shot towards him, wanting to get as close as possible. You expected he might try to stay away, keeping a distance so your quirk wouldn't affect him so much. Instead, he stood his ground, holding out his palms to you as you approached. Internally, you faltered, wondering what he was planning to do.

Nevertheless, you kept running forward, getting as close as you dared before drawing in a breath to scream and release your power. You noticed Bakugou flinch as sound began to leak from your throat, but he quickly fired off an explosion in your direction, drowning out the sound.

Of course! You internally smacked yourself. You relied on him being able to hear your screams in order for your quirk to affect him. He would have to use his explosions to drown out the sound.

Your mind began to spin, trying to formulate a new plan, when he began making an advance on you. Loud, crackling explosions danced off his hands, not horribly powerful, but boy, were they loud. You cringed at them, resisting the urge to cover your own ears to protect yourself from the noise. He kept coming closer, heat and smoke flickering over your face, causing you to take a step back, then another.

So that's his plan, you thought, taking another step in the direction of the boundary lines. He knows he can't really fight hand-to-hand, and there's no way either of us are going to admit defeat, so he's trying to push me out.

Your objective was to either knock him unconscious or chase him out of bounds, but this could be used to your favor if you timed it correctly.

Quirks are physical abilities too, you remembered hearing Midoriya say. Even Kacchan has his limits.

Push him to his limits. That's what you had to do.

You let him fire off blast after blast, keeping as far out of his reach as you could while leading him around the arena. He didn't have much choice but to keep going. If he stopped, you would be able to use your quirk on him, and you had a good chance of winning with one as powerful as yours. He simply had to keep a clear head and try to push you further towards the white boundary lines. Every now and then, he would lunge forward, trying to grab at you, and you would shriek at him, smirking as a moment of panic flashed across his face when the piercing noise slipped into his ears. This also served to make him all the angrier, lips curling into a snarl at your dominion over his emotions.

You made sure to keep your distance. You weren't wearing your hero costume, which would have helped in the sense that he wouldn't have been able to grab your mouth from under the directional speaker you wore over your mask, but you were grateful you didn't have to deal with his gauntlets.

You didn't like that he kept moving, and a small part of you was almost certain your fear and anxiety-inducing quirk would make his palms sweat even more, but there wasn't more you could pull against him. You just had to keep going until one of you exhausted yourself.

The smoke wasn't helping you. It scratched at your throat and stung your eyes. The scent of burning sugar filled the air, and you wondered how much more the both of you could take.

There it was, a wince from behind one of the black clouds, a falter in one of the fiery blasts. He was growing tired, but you knew from his expression of blank determination he wouldn't stop no matter what toll it took on his body. Anything for him to win, but you were the same way. Though he'd been focusing on the sound levels of his quirk rather than the force of each blow, it had still been taxing, and you knew that now was your chance.

The whole time, you'd been on the defensive, trying to save your voice and keep out of the way until this very moment, but now was the time of offense. You began to work the two of you over to the boundary lines, hoping to lull Bakugou into a false sense of security that he was getting you where he wanted.

Without warning, you leapt forward, going in to knock his feet from under him. If you got him on the ground, it would be easier for you to secure his hands and grab his head, which would ensure the win for you.

He snarled and leapt back. His reflexes were phenomenal, but in his moment of defense, he dropped from using his quirk. Bingo.

A deafening sliver of silence followed his motion, which you quickly filled with a piercing scream, one of the loudest you could muster.

His eyes widened and he stumbled, another explosion firing off as a flash of fear coursed through his body. You went for his feet again, and this time you wouldn't let up, pulsing high-pitched shriek after shriek to keep him on edge. He tried to keep on his toes, swinging at you almost blindly as you darted forward and dodged.

You'd learned that if you didn't do it enough, the fear and adrenaline of your enemy could work against you, heightening their senses and reflexes, and if you did it too much, your opponent might get used to your effect. Now, however, you knew to work quickly, forcing your influence into his head until he would struggle to think clearly, landing a good blow to his knees.

He crumpled forward, and you straddled yourself on top of him easily, taking his hands in one of yours behind his back and using the other to clutch at the base of his neck. You could feel his heart pounding underneath you, see his eyes rolling in his skull. The thought crossed your mind to pity him.

You loved your quirk, occasionally delighting in how easy it was to assert a certain amount of control over people. But you weren't a monster, and the idea of needlessly terrifying your classmates brought a curl to your lip in distaste. But this was your rival, Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe he deserved to be put in his place. Just a little.

You leaned forward and put your lips to his ear, letting out a final, high-frequency hum directly into his canal. You felt him seize up beneath you, hearing how his breathing changed as he tried to suck in breaths to calm himself. You wouldn't let up, however, and before long, you felt him go limp under your belly.

You stood after making sure he had slipped from consciousness, pride filling your chest. You'd done it. You'd won out over your rival.

You looked around and made eye contact with Cementoss, who had been monitoring your half of the fighting rings. He nodded at you approvingly and advanced to take Bakugou out of the ring.

You flounced back to the room where your classmates had been watching the sparring matches, allowing yourself to relish in the way everyone's eyes turned towards you.

"(L/N) shojo," All Might said. "Excellent job."

The silence of the class was cleared and everyone who was still in the room surged forward to congratulate you.

"You beat Bakugou!"

"That was amazing!"

"You really did it!"

Once everyone had settled, you excused yourself to go to the locker rooms.

On your way, you ran into Bakugou, who had since woken up from the little nap you'd forced him into.

"Oi, Bakugou," you said, the sound of your voice causing his blond head to whip around. You approached him and stuck out a hand. "Good match."

He glared at your hand and smacked it away. Why did his reaction kind of . . . hurt?

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Next time, you won't—you won't beat me so easily, mouse." He nearly choked when he had to admit that you had won against him.

"Still calling me a mouse?" you asked, tilting your head and smirking.

"You still squeak like one," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't think I'm done with you. You might have won today, but don't get used to it."

"Oh, I think I just might," you said cockily, breezing past him to slip into the girls' locker room door.

Bakugou growled at your disappearing back. What the hell was wrong with you? More importantly, what the hell was wrong with him?

He gripped at the back of his neck where you'd grabbed him, shivering at the memory of the sensation of your lips to his ear.

He had to snap out of it. You were his enemy. The only place you should have in his mind were in thoughts of how to overcome you, how to pound you into the ground until he came out on top above you.

And yet you wouldn't leave his head, and he found his eyes chasing your form nearly every day he saw you.

Bakugou snarled to himself, snapping him out of these thoughts and pushing himself from the locker room entrances. He would find a way to beat you. He wouldn't stop until he figured out a way to do it.

He wouldn't rest until he sorted out these feelings too, whatever they were.

Bakugou's black boots clicked on the floor as he exited the building. This was only the beginning of your saga together, and the two of you refused to enter passively.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⁎*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​​

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon, it makes me really happy and comforts me that you enjoy reading what I submit. It makes me really happy to write all of this and finally be able to tell someone my ideas. Thank you so much.

At first he kept trying to deny the father figure role, but when one night Jackie had a nightmare and came to him and ended up calling him dad, he stopped denying it and accepted it. And once he accepted it he did basically adopt all of them. Jackie and Grievous are literally chaos incarnate most days. They regularly love to prank the contestants and just act insane. Ran and Jackie just kind of hang around eachother, like Ran could be reading and Jackie training and they'd enjoy eachothers company. They do sometimes nap next to eachother, or play card games (which is a rare instance where Ran gets (playfully) rilled up and competitive). Grievous and Ran bonding sadly gets interrupted when Ranbob suddenly drops in, but before that Grievous would try to talk to Ran about what book he's reading and just try to make conversation with him.

Oh the height difference definitely remains. And its both terrifying and hailours to new people. It's even better when it's a 2v2 fight because Jackie has a habit of just climbing Ran like a monkey gym and sitting on his shoulders and its terrifying.

Well, since the drinking age is 3, I personally think the age limit is like 14 or something close. I believe I made their ages as Ran is 19 (almost 20. Maybe 4 months away), Jackie is 16, Watson is 30 something, Grievous is 22, and Ranbob is 28 (Ran is younger than his brother by 9 years) I have written down all their ages somewhere (and the ages where the events of Mizu took place) and if I got any wrong I will submit another ask with their ages. The other gladiators have managed to keep good relationships with most of eachother. A few like Grievous and Genevieve are close, Edward, Levi, and Watson are drinking buddies. Lagguis sadly isn't as involved cause he is sick and can't vist often at all. (I think I got everyone. Tell me if I missed anyone please, I cant check cause whenever I exit tumblr, tumblr deletes everything in my ask :') )

I dont have many rules for the Pit rn but I do have, no injuries that could cause long term or chronic damage, no sabotaging opponents, no teaming unless its a team round, no blackmail or anything of the sort to force an opponent to forfeit, and in order for a battle to end due to forfeit both sides must agree to it. But the Pit in general is a lot of things, there's fights for money, fame, and positions (like general). There's tournaments meant for nothing other than to show skill and just to fight your heart out. It's open to anyone above 14 and anyone under 80, to people from Subbin to those just passing through.

And there are different battles in the Pit, theres singles, the ones we saw in the Tales of the SMP episode. Teams, where teams of 2 battles against eachother. Free-for-all, where literally everyone fights against eachother. And Ion battles, battles where there are super powered weapons (like flame 2 iron sword. Or strength 3 potions) that spawn in the area at random. Typically Ran and Watson work best toghere, as their strategists and plan everything with back up plans, and they always call out warnings and watch eachothers back so its incredibly hard to actually hit them. And Jackie and Grievous work best toghere, with the two going insane and often taking people by surprise with their unmeasure and randomized movements and attacks.

At the start Ranbob was completely under Dreams thrall, not being able to really think for himself and even foregoing self care. When Ranbob starts to become himself again the fishermen are more than confused and hesitant, with Cletus especially stating multiple times that it may just be a trick. So it takes a while but Isaac actually is the one to suggest maybe it isn't a trick, and has to do with the mask that was found. This is later confirmed when the mask is brought to the group and Ranbob has a massive negative reaction that sets him back to how he was when they first met him.

Im honestly not sure yet, I think I want it to be a 'lets never go back' type thing but im not positive yet.

I dont have a solid backstory for the fishermen, but I know I want a little bit of it to tie to the story. Do you have any ideas for their backstory or nah? I do know I want them to have met eachother while they where in unfortunate situations and because of those they got family level close.

Ranbob doesn't take the little space well at first; staying outside when able too, even though that really upset Benjamin; and Ranbob has no idea how the outside works and has no idea how to read the weather or what he can and cant eat, but hey the enderman boi is trying his best to make up for everything he's done. And trying to build his own house to not impose on the fishermen (much like Ranboo did with Techno), but Benjamin wouldn't accept that and kept dragging him inside. It wasn't that hard for Benjamin, Isaac, and Charles to get used to Ranbob, already being used to sharing a small house, it was more Cletus with him refusing to leave Ranbob alone even for a second because he doesn't trust Ranbob at all.

The two groups actually get along surprisingly well! They like eachother and Watson once said, "It was like a family reunion. Or like long lost siblings finally found their way home."

I am once again not sure! Originally I planned for them to stay in Subbin and in the Pit. But the more I think about it the more boring that is and more I like the idea of the groups traveling toghere in the world.

I like this question! So enderman travel in groups called hauntings right? I personally headcanon the enderman in this group are basically family, biological or not. And ever since Ran and Ranbob lost their family they lost their haunting, which can be mentally damaging to a enderman. Once Ran found Waston, Jackie, and Grievous and started hanging around them more, he started feeling a connection ot them he hasn't felt on a long time. He's claimed them, as his haunting, his family. And he'll defend them with his life against anyone and anything. And then suddenly Ranbob came in, a enderman that should be part of his haunting but isn't, a enderman that killed his previous haunting. So Ran is incredibly defensive over his group, and is trying his best to keep Ranbob as far from his haunting as possible, to protect them.

Now Ranbob also got a haunting, his being Charles, Isaac, Benjamin, and even Cletus. So Ranbob is also defensive over his family. But unlike Ran, Ranbob still considers his brother as part of his haunting, his family (and yes, Ranbob did think Ran was dead when he first chased him out years ago, so he's shocked and relieved that his baby brother is still alive). And he sees how his family gets along so well with Rans family and then starts to even consider Rans haunting part of Ranbob's. Basically Ranbob has a big heart and is willing to accept almost anyone into his family, no matter what they've done.

Yep, the reason Porkius is so interested in Ran is because he's an enderman hybrid. And no one else is a hybrid expect for the two brothers (and Porkius, with him being a piglin hybrid).

Porkius is excited! He's excited to see what happens and is more than happy to agree to help as long as he is kept in the loop. Though unless he's directly asked to be involved he prefers watching from a distance at whats happening. Just so he doesn't get mauled by a pissed off enderman.

Sorry for any spelling mistakes (its late) and its so long! Im probably going to try to shorten them.

I’m glad you’re happy, it’s a nice thing to feel. Your ideas are really cool, and I hope I’ll get to see more of them in the future.

Now, can I simply say how adorable so much of this is? Jackie going to Watson when he had a nightmare, the Rans being protective of their groups, Jackie climbing Ran? I love that, it’s very heartwarming and cute, and it made me smile.

So Watson wasn’t really sure what to do with his new title at first, hm? And then Jackie called him dad? How’d he feel about that? How’d Jackie feel about the slip? Or did he even notice? He’s parenting them all, he’s gonna have a dad voice and everything. How do the adopted ones feel about him embracing it?

Jackie and Grievous, two people to truly fear when they wish to cause havoc. Tremble before them. Do they prank people, or do they just become absolute madmen on the battlefield? Or something else. Honestly, anything with these two just instantly makes me amused. 

Jackie and Ran being chill buddies. very nice. Ran getting competitive over card games is a funny thought. Does he win often? Does Jackie? What kind of card games do they play?

Rather sad Ran and Grievous bonding is interrupted, but it’s nice to hear Grievous trying it. Hopefully they’ll get there someday. 

Oh my god, it’s the height difference. Jackie getting on Ran’s shoulder sounds absolutely terrifying. Imagine being some poor new guy pitted against these gremlins and the short ones climbs on the tall ones shoulder-both look absolutely gleeful with the destruction they’re about to wreak, and you already know you cannot outrun them. 

Jackie...Jackie...he’s da youngest. He’s small, and young, and you have no idea how much I’m laughing at this. I don’t even know why, it’s just really, really funny to me. Probably something to do with what a complete force of chaos we all know this boy is. Oddly fitting, but hilarious. How does Jackie feel about this? 

How do the others? Are they a bit more protective over him? Does Ran like to flaunt his three years more over him? 

Grievous and Genevieve are buddies! Very nice, they seem to have a good dynamic. Watson, Edward, and Levi also being close? Very interesting, has a lot of potential. I bet they share a lot of funny stories.

So we’ve established the basics of The Pit. Doesn’t seem too bad, for a fighting arena, to be honest. Seems pretty popular, actually. Do the gladiators live there? In the palace? Or do they just have a house somewhere nearby? What kind of establishments and areas are around? Food places, stores? 

So Ran and Watson are the scariest team because of their strategy, and Jackie and Grievous are the scariest team because of their randomness? It checks out. I’m curious though, how do the other combinations work out?

Ranbob sounds like he has a less than fun time here, and the poor guy could really use some closure. What’s he like, free from the influence of the mask? He seems pretty close to Benjamin, so at least he’s got that going for him. Though he and Cletus don’t seem to have the strongest bond at first. How is that resolved?

And how does Ran feel about his brother’s new haunting, after everything? I imagine that he’s at least a little bit unhappy with it, for one reason or another-and there’s quite a few reasons for him to pick from.

How did that house-building attempt go, between Ran never being above water, and probably never building a house before? I can’t imagine too well.

Some ideas for backstory, well, hm. Isaac seemed dressed a bit fancier than the others, perhaps he comes from a richer family than the others? That’s about all I’ve got for now, sorry. 

It’s nice to hear they got along, who clicks the easiest?

Possible road trip? Always fun.

So, the enderman hybrids have adopted their respective groups as their hauntings. You’ve mentioned Ranbob’s pretty cool with this, how does Ran feel? Obviously, he’s less than pleased with Ranbob, but what about the fishermen? Protective Ran and Ranbob! How protective exactly? Is it subtle, or overbearing at times? Actually, how do their instincts lead to them interacting with their groups overall?

Porkius must not see Ender hybrids too often, if he’s so interested in them. It’s nice that he’s willing to help out though, and his concern is valid. I wouldn’t want an angry enderman hybrid after me either. 

Are hybrids not overly common, then, if there’s only Ran, Ranbob, and Porkius around currently, or are they just not mentioned a lot?

Thanks for the ask, a lot of it made me smile. I enjoyed reading it, and I hope you’ll be willing to send more when you have the time.

[guqin-and-flute]

Jin Guangyao supervises a-Fu and a-Ling's first sleepover while Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue are night-hunting

[Well, this was SUPPOSED to be just fluffy, but that’s a little hard inside of JGY’s head]

A-Fu bounded his way into the room and flung himself into Jin Guangyao’s arms with such force that it nearly knocked him over. “Oof--my child, please--” he chuckled as he caught him and A-Fu rubbed his face all over the embroidered Sparks Amidst Snow peony on the front of his robes, likely wiping his snot off on it. His clothes were still cold and damp from their flight.

“We--” A-Fu reared his head back, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. “Are gonna stay up all night!”

A-Yuan appeared to have stayed behind by Lan Xichen’s side, because the pair made their entrance at a more measured pace as Lan Xichen reminded, patiently, “While the rules of Carp Tower may be different than Cloud Recesses, staying up all night is not good for you.” 

Rather shyly, A-Yuan bowed in greeting to Jin Guangyao and he nodded back, smiling down at the boy. It had always been vaguely amusing to him that A-Yuan had more patience and decorum than A-Fu, who was born a Lan. One had to wonder if it was the influence of the slightly more rowdy Nie Clan exposure or simply innate. “Seeing how I am the one watching you and I cannot stay up all night, I’m going to have to disagree with you, Fufu,” Jin Guangyao slotted his gentle negation right alongside Lan Xichen’s and braced for the inevitable pout.

Instead, he received a sunny smile. “Oh, okay, then you’ll just go to bed at the Lan time and we’ll stay up to help the sun rise!”

A-Yuan was looking between the adults with a rather furtive smile, as if trying to silently communicate that he did not, in fact, condone this plan and would not like to be a part of the repercussions. Jin Guangyao grinned and hefted A-Fu over to his side to brace him on his hip, his back beginning to complain. “Ah, what a creative set of ears you have, Fufu--we say ‘you’re not staying up all night’, and yet they hear ‘you’re allowed to stay up until sunrise’! Truly remarkable.”

Quite dramatically, A-Fu sighed and smushed his hands up onto Jin Guangyao’s face, smearing his cheeks around. “Dieeee, don’t be a party pooper, it’s our first Jin sleepover with all of us!”

Gently, Jin Guangyao shook his face free of his cold fingered grasp and turned toward Lan Xichen to receive the kiss to his forehead. Despite A-Fu beginning to wiggle, he leaned into it, let himself inhale the scent of ozone-sky, clean wind, and sandalwood that clung to his robes and hair. The habitual tension torqued at his core loosened, like a sigh. “Easy trip? You’re not too tired after carrying them both, are you?”

Lan Xichen chuckled, slid to kiss his temple. “I’m fine, A-Yao. I’m sorry again for the short notice--Wangji is off on his own night hunt and this cannot wait.”

Shaking his head, Jin Guangyao smiled. “It’s no trouble. A-Ling is very excited.”

“And you?”

“Also very excited--ah!” A-Fu made a lunge off of his hip, not being content to simply wiggle his displeasure at being kept from pelting about and Jin Guangyao had to stoop to catch him before he hit his head on the ground. “A-Fu!” The boy froze, guiltily, and let himself be lowered down to his feet. Jin Guangyao crouched down and straightened his robes and headband with little tugs to lessen the sting of his scolding, brushing his hair back over his shoulder. “Patience is valuable. You’ll hurt yourself that way.”

As soon as no more admonishments came, A-Fu brightened immediately. “You wouldn’t drop me. A-Yuan!! Let’s go find A-Ling!”

Darting away, he seized A-Yuan’s wrist and dragged him out and down the hall, already excitedly chattering about the plans of the night as Lan Xichen chuckled and shook his head, winding an arm about Jin Guangyao’s waist when he rose. “Good luck. He couldn’t keep still the entire trip and told me the same thing when I reminded him that dropping from my arms in the sky was a bad idea.”

“Aiya,” he shook his head and, since they were alone, turned inside his embrace and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m sure it will be fine,” he murmured against him. “But you will be careful, yes?”

“Mm,” Lan Xichen tilted his head, pressed a firmer, more complete kiss against his lips, slipping his arms fully around him before pulling back to smile down at him. “I always am. Da-ge will be with me.”

With practiced ease, he swept aside the tangle of anxiety, old hurt, regret, and darker things the mention of Nie Mingjue bubbled inside his gut and smiled back. “Of course.”

The boys were already fighting by the time Jin Guangyao found them in Jin Ling’s toy room down the hall--something about the colors of toy swords--but quieted down fairly quickly when he mildly suggested that perhaps they wouldn’t need more sugar after dinner because they were already so lively. Eating went well, as both A-Ling and A-Fu were too busy inhaling food like they were starving and A-Yuan was making like a good Lan child and not talking during meals. He contented himself watching them dart around afterward, announcing in grandiose little voices the various heroes they were and what monsters they were battling. Without direct adult interference, A-Yuan grew a little more vibrant and playful, and though he never reached the same volume of the other 2, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Soon, Jin Guangyao faded into the background for them like so much furniture. He smiled as he watched them play. It was funny how sometimes it worked on children as well as adults. 

That is, until A-Ling twisted around like he suddenly realized something. “Hey, you’re a hero of the Sunshot Campaign, right, shushu?”

Jin Guangyao blinked and smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say all that.” Modesty was a good trait to teach your children. In any case, his father would certainly agree with his hedging and Madam Jin would certainly take exception if her grandson began calling such a bastard a hero in her presence. “Most people of my generation were a part of the Sunshot Campaign. Why do you ask, A-Ling?”

“Well, you just seem so normal.”

Jin Guangyao did not let the slightly darker, wry humor he felt coil in his chest bleed into his perfectly reasonable smile. “I’m pleased that you think so.”

“But heroes aren’t normal, though, they’re heroes,” A-Fu seemed to understand whatever A-Ling was failing to adequately explain. “They aren’t moms and dads and stuff.”

“What should they be instead, then, A-Fu? Simply stories?”

His son squinted his eyes at him, like he was solving a particularly difficult equation and looked over at A-Yuan and back. “But...you didn’t have...like...sleepovers and things, right?”

Jin Guangyao was silent for a moment, keeping his expression perfectly balanced. There had never been another child to whisper the night away with. No adult in the corner to watch him play. Nights were not a time for fun. “No, A-Fu, I didn’t. But plenty of others have.”

A-Fu cocked his head. “Why not?”

Jin Guangyao smiled. “Why don’t we see if the cook has any sweet buns leftover? I know she baked them fresh this morning.”

After the hunt and acquisition of their prize and after the children had licked their hands clean, A-Fu looked up at him with a few crumbles of sugar stuck to the tip of his nose and said, “You can be part of the sleepover if you want, though, die, ‘cause this is our first one all together too!”

Heart pinching, flooding with warmth, he reached out and brushed the little crystals off with his thumb, tilting his head. “So thoughtful, xiao-Fu. I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun.”

“You’re fun, die! Right, A-Yuan?”

With a shy smile, A-Yuan nodded. “I liked when you taught us about the plants in the woods, that one time.”

The time in question had been more than 2 years ago when they were quite a bit younger, not too many months after the boy had recovered fully from his illness to be well enough to leave the Hanshi where he was staying with Lan Xichen and A-Yuan for extended periods of time. Even as A-Fu screwed up his face in confusion, the strange buzz of realization that he lived in the minds of these children in ways he did not control rushed through Jin Guangyao. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know this, cognitively or as if this wasn’t true of everyone, but...when they were small and unsteady on their feet, still learning the ways of the world and the words for things, one forgot to consider them people on the way to becoming themselves. Recording and collecting moments that were inconsequential to their grown ups. When he considered his own childhood, there wasn’t a boy who lived there, but himself, as he ever was, reflected back through time, the story written and unyielding. He had never felt particularly like a child.

And yet, here was a boy who remembered him fondly from an insignificant walk from some recordless day for pointing out a few edible plants along a path. 

He found himself wondering if his mother had ever been taken out of her own head for a moment, watching him watch her, not knowing the picture she painted across his memory. For good or for ill. 

Always good.

He blinked back to himself and made sure to smile at A-Yuan. “I’m glad.”

“I don’t remember that,” A-Fu complained just as A-Ling said, “I didn’t get that! Shushu, tell me about plants!” 

That startled a genuine laugh out of Jin Guangyao and he knelt down. “I’m no expert, but in the morning, what if I took you all out to the gardens and told you about some of the plants that we have growing here in Carp Tower? Would you boys like that?”

The answering, competitively loud yells of YES from both A-Fu and A-Ling had him wincing but A-Yuan’s eager nod made him smile. 

There was whining and stalling at bedtime, misuse of soap, and a hastily declared armistice of a mutinous pillow fight because there are lanterns in here, A-Ling, you know better, but, finally, they were tucked in, 3 dark little heads on the pillow with the blanket pulled up to their chins. “Are we going to greet the sun?” Jin Guangyao asked with knowing patience, kneeling beside their bed, leaning with his elbow in his own nightclothes.

“Nooo?” A-Fu widened his eyes, as if his own father didn’t know when he was trying to be innocent.

Smoothing a palm over his forehead, bare of its headband, Jin Guangyao raised his eyebrows. “What happens if I find you trying to stay up to greet the sun, A-Fu?”

“Youuuu...join us!”

Jin Guangyao blinked slowly, smile still fixed on his face. A-Fu sighed grumpily. “I probably have to clean dishes for a month or something.”

“Or something,” he agreed. “I’ll leave it up to your blue father.”

A-Ling snickered as A-Fu stiffened. “Nooo, don’t tell him!”

“Then I will advise you, Fufu, to not do it at all,” he replied indulgently, stroking his thumb between his eyebrows.

Tucked in the middle so the other two didn’t fight, A-Yuan piped up, saying, “I won’t let them, bo-fu.”

When A-Yuan gave him a smile, he felt his own soften without his say so--but here, with uncalculating eyes and sleepy shadows, he supposed that was alright. He reached over and patted A-Yuan’s round cheek, resisting the illogical parentally-encoded impulse to pinch them. “Thank you, A-Yuan.” Then, he reached farther to do the same for A-Ling. “Goodnight, boys. Sleep well.”

As Jin Guangyao rose and moved to the door, A-Fu chirped, “Love you.” He paused as the other 2 echoed the same words, like A-Fu had reminded them of an important ritual. 

Drawing in a deep breath around his suddenly tight throat, he turned back and smiled. “Love you, too.”

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 38]

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

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Not sure how long I’ll go. Maybe be an hour may be six. We’ll have to see!

Chapter 15

Patton strolled up to the doors to the royal wing, his arms crossed casually around his middle.

Kalani raised an eyebrow as he approached and gave her the most innocent expression he could. “Whatcha got there, Pat?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he asked, as his sweater squirmed. “What do you mean?”

She considered him for a moment. “Well, I see nothing suspicious here,” she said. “Do you Owen?”

“Nothing,” he replied without hesitation.

Patton grinned at them both.

Kalani leaned in like she was going to tell him a secret. “Who is it?”

Patton made a show of glanced around like he was hiding it from anyone passing by. Then he shifted around to pull up just the bottom of his sweater.

 A small black paw reached out from the depths of his sweater and swatted at the air.

“Ah, I see,” Kalani said, reaching out to touch the little paw. “Hello, Mittens.”

Patton giggled as Owen poked the cat’s stomach gently through the sweater, making her wiggle a bit and try to bite him.

“Well,” Patton said. “I better be off with my totally normal sweater.”

Kalani nodded and stepped to the side, and Patton was free to head down the hallway to Logan’s room. Patton knocked on the door with their new extra secret knock and Logan all but ripped open the door. “I’m late. I have to go,” he said, darting past Patton.

 Patton smiled, happy that his plan to be running a little late to come watch Virgil had worked so well, even though he felt a little bit guilty about it. He hoped Logan wasn’t late to his meeting, but he also knew that if Logan had noticed Mittens, he wouldn’t have let her into the room.

Virgil was already out of the closet, sitting on one of the chairs. Patton came in and smiled at him. Unlike Logan, Virgil’s attention was immediately drawn to the oddly shaped lump in Patton’s sweater.

“You’re not very good at hiding things,” Virgil said.

 “It worked on Logan,” Patton defended himself.

“Logan was about to rocket into space if you didn’t show up in 5 seconds,” Virgil pointed out. Patton just shrugged, and Virgil tilted his head. “What do you have?”

Patton grinned wide and carefully pulled Mittens out of his sweater. She did not resist this maneuver at all, simply purring. He held her up for Virgil to see. “Ta da!”

“A cat?” Virgil said.

“This is Mittens,” Patton said. He then turned to Mittens. “Mittens, this is Virgil. I thought I’d introduce the two of you!”

Virgil blinked at the cat. Mittens blinked back. Patton thought maybe he should have let them sniff each other from under a door before doing this.

 He didn’t need to worry though, as Mittens started purring after a moment. “You can pet her,” Patton offered. Virgil looked up at him. “Just…” he said.

“She likes chin scratchies!” Patton prompted.

Virgil reached out a hand to scratch under her chin and that was the end of it. Mittens stretched out her chin happy to get the attention and Virgil’s eyes widened at how soft her fur was. It was a work of minutes before Virgil was sitting down on the floor and Mittens was happily kneading his thighs and spinning around in circles to make sure he pet every inch of her.

“I did not understand why people like cats,” Virgil commented. “All I’ve seen of cats is people coming back with bloody scratches from trying to pet them, so I never even tried.”

“Well,” Patton said. “Cats are just like people. If you’re nice to them, they’re more likely to be nice to you.”

 Virgil’s hand paused briefly on the cat’s head, but then continued with the petting a moment later. Patton wondered what he was thinking about, but didn’t press.

“She seems to like you,” Patton said.

“Don’t know why.”

“Hey, don’t be mean.” Patton scolded.

Virgil hands jerked away from the cat he’d been petting and then were forced abruptly to his side in reaction. Mittens meowed, seemed very unhappy with the jostling as well as the sudden lack of petting.

“Sorry,” Virgil said, eyes wide. “What did I do wrong. I didn’t mean to be mean to her.”

It took Patton a moment to sus out what he was talking about and felt a pang in his chest when he did. “Oh, no honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I meant don’t be mean to yourself.”

 Virgil gave him a confused look. Mittens bumped her head against his chin and with a blink, he cautiously went back to petting her.

“Of course, she likes you sweetie, you’re a good boy.”

“I came here to kill the king. I’ve killed before.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I don’t think you ever wanted to,” he said. Virgil seemed to grow very interested in mitten’s ears. Patton scooted over so he was sitting beside him and carefully brought a hand up to touch the top of his head. Virgil sort of curled into him, pressing his face against Patton’s shoulder, but continuing to pet the cat.

 “It’s fine. You’re going to be okay now,” Patton said softly.

Virgil shook his head against Patton’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Patton insisted. “You’ll be okay. You won’t have to go back.”

Virgil didn’t respond for a long moment. “You can’t keep me in Logan’s closet forever,” he said softly. “When his dad comes back, you’re going to have to turn me in.”

Well, that was true, but… “It’ll be okay. No one will hurt you.”

“The kings would be assassin?” Virgil asked skeptically.

“Thomas is nice. He’ll understand.”

“He’s nice to you. He’s nice to Logan. Maybe he’s even nice to the people he rules over, but what am I? An enemy assassin who would have slit his throat if I hadn’t gotten the wrong room.”

 It…it did sound bad when he put it like that, but, but… “Thomas will understand,” he promised, hugging him tight. “He will, and we’ll keep you safe and I’ll introduce you to every single cat in the castle. In fact, we’ll get you a cat to keep as a pet if you want and he or she can snuggle you as much as you want. I’ll show you all around the gardens and introduce you to Mama and help you figure out what your favorite type of cookie is. You’ll never have to hurt anyone again and no one will ever hurt you again.”

 Virgil drew away a bit and shot him a half smile. He clearly didn’t believe him, and it made Patton’s stomach twist a bit. Patton knew. He knew Thomas would be nice. There was no way he’d hurt Virgil. Virgil was just a kid and with Logan and Patton on his side, there was no way anything bad would happen to him. He could see it from Virgil’s perspective though.

“I like her feet,” Virgil said, touching Mittens’ little black paw that contrasted her otherwise white coat. Mittens purred and began kneading his legs again with those paws. “I’m guessing that’s why she’s named Mittens?”

“Yeah,” said Patton softly. “‘Cause she looks like she’s wearing mittens.” Virgil leaned forward to kiss her little head and that little action made Patton’s heart ache for him. He deserved so many kitten kisses. So many.

Patton was determined to make sure he got them.

  Chapter 16

“Well done,” Logan complimented when Virgil looked up at him for approval. It was the first time Virgil was trying to make the protection charms without Logan’s instructions. Logan was of course still in the room in case he had questions and the boy had a written set of instructions next to him, but for the most part Virgil was doing it on his own.

“Now,” Virgil said squinting down at the paper next to him, “we wait for 35 minutes.”

“Fifty actually,” Logan corrected offhand, focused on his own potion.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Virgil said. He grabbed the timer and set it for the appropriate time.

 Then, he stepped away from Logan’s nontoxic potion station. Logan saw him edge a bit closer to peak at what Logan was working on, though he was careful to maintain a distance. Logan wasn’t sure if this was because he’d been warned of the possible harmful substances Logan sometimes used at his experiment table or because he was worried Logan might not want him to approach.

Logan looked up at him. “You can come closer. Nothing here is very dangerous.”

Virgil nodded and walked over to peer at the boiling pot. “What are you making?” he asked.

“I am once again attempting to invent a potion that will reliably remove cat hair from surfaces,” Logan said, glancing over at Patton.

 Patton looked up from the bracelet he was making and stuck his tongue out at Logan.

“I can never seem to find an adequate solution,” Logan said.

“The solution is to accept all parts of kitty love!” Patton insisted.

“Or maybe the solution is to exile you from my room for the rest of time,” Logan muttered. Patton chose to ignore him and go back to working on the bracelet.

“Do you want any help?” Virgil offered Logan.

Logan smiled at him. “I’m actually almost finished with this step and there isn’t much left to do but thank you.”

Virgil nodded. “Oh, okay,” he said. He shifted back and forth a few times.

 “You’re well on your way to mastering this potion,” Logan said. “I was thinking that next I could teach you how to make a tracking charm. I marked a passage about it in the book on that shelf.” He gestured to one near the station Virgil had been working at. “Why don’t you go ahead and read that while you wait?”

“The…” Virgil said. “The green book?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “I left a bookmark in the correct page.”

“Um… yeah, sure. I’ll go… read that.”

Logan nodded and turned back to put the finishing touches on his own potion as Virgil walked away.

 Logan finished up his potion up after a few minutes and covered it to let it simmer. He looked over to see that Patton had flopped onto his back, still working on the bracelet and Virgil had sat near to him with the book on his lap open. Logan walked over to them.

“What do you think?” Logan asked.

Virgil glanced up at him. “Erm,” he said. “Looks good.”

“Which option do you like better?”

“…The second one.”

“Really?” Logan asked, surprised.

“Uh… yes?”

“I’m surprised,” Logan commented. “I figured you would shy away from the ones that required a blood sacrifice.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “I… didn’t notice that. I would like to not do that one, please.”

“You didn’t notice?” Logan asked. “Half of the entire first page is dedicated to a discussion of it.”

There was a beat of awkward silence.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “Can you read the first paragraph on that page?”

 He grimaced.

“You can’t read?!”

“Logan, tone,” Patton snapped when Virgil flinched.

Logan took a breath. “I am not upset that you cannot read, but what have you been doing for the past week when I have given you written instructions for the protection charm potion?”

“Not… read it.”

“How have you been making the potion?” Logan asked.

“I just remember the steps, and if I’m not sure I ask. You’re usually distracted enough that you barely notice.”

“If I had known this, we would have done a completely auditory explanation.”

“Sorry.”

Logan sighed. “You didn’t need to pretend, Virgil.”

 Virgil blinked up at him. “Sorry.”

Logan just shook his head. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for. In fact, you are the one who is owed apologies from many people in your life for a multitude of reasons.” He knelt down to take the book from him. “Here,” he said. “For now, I will read this passage to you while we wait for the potions to finish brewing. Later we can talk about changing my lesson plans in reference to the potions as well as adding reading lessons into your schedule.”

“You… want to teach me how to read?” Virgil asked.

 “If you are willing,” Logan replied. “It’s a useful skill to have and opens up many doors.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it,” Virgil said with a frown.

“If you can memorize an entire potion recipe from start to finish with inadequate vocal instructions, I’m sure you can learn the alphabet perfectly well.”

“Okay,” he replied sounding a bit doubtful.

“And once we get you to an appropriate level, I’ll let you read a book about stars I enjoyed in my youth.” He seemed pleased with that prospect, and Logan smiled at him. “For now though, let’s read this together.”

 “Okay,” Virgil said. Logan opened the book in his lap and started to read. He noticed that Virgil was leaning over to look at the page despite the fact that he couldn’t read it, and so he began to point to the words as he read. His reactions to the words on the page were honestly quite funny when Logan caught them. His nose would scrunch up in confusion every time he thought an instruction nonsensical, and he’d squint his eyes at the words as though willing the sounds and letters to connect in his head. Logan wouldn’t be surprised with his memory if he had parts of it memorized by the end.

26422

After a few minutes of reading, a light weight descended on Logan’s shoulder. Virgil had settled his chin on Logan’s shoulder to peer at the words. Logan did his best not to draw attention to this fact and shot a glare at Patton when he clearly noticed, sitting up to smile widely at them. Luckily the boy was sensible enough not to squeal as he oh so clearly wanted to. Logan pointed out a picture while explaining what the caption said and then giving a personal antecedent. Virgil touched the page curiously and asked a question about the story before laying his head back down on Logan’s shoulder. They continued in this way until the potion was finished.

  Chapter 17

Virgil’s suspicion was growing. Logan and Patton seemed to have something planned. Luckily, whatever it was didn’t seem to be malicious, at least, Virgil hoped it wasn’t. He truly didn’t think that Patton had it in him to be so clearly excited about anything cruel. He also didn’t think Logan had it in him to be cruel, he was just was better at masking his excitement.

“What?” Logan asked innocently when Virgil gave him a pointed look the second Patton left to do ‘something’. Virgil would almost believe he truly wasn’t planning anything if it wasn’t for the way his lips twitched just a bit at the corners. Virgil glared harder.

 Logan dared to laugh lightly at the expression on his face. “Come here,” he requested. “Patton wanted me to make you pick out a book for him to read to you tonight since, I quote ‘You’ve gotten to read him all sorts of stories the last few days.’ I attempted to explain that it was not purely for fun, but he insisted.”

Virgil grumbled, but wandered over to look over at the books laid out on Logan’s bed, settling his chin on Logan’s shoulder. “What do they say?” he asked.

Logan pointed to each in turn. “Five Dragons and a Flame. The End of May. A Stone in the Meadow. Or you can continue to read The Never-ending Garden.”

 “I want to finish The Never-Ending Garden,” Virgil decided.

“Good choice.”

“Now will you tell me what you’re doing?” Virgil asked.

Logan just chuckled. Honestly, it was like he didn’t know that he had an assassin right next to his carotid artery. “Why do you think something is happened?”

“Patton’s a shit liar.”

“Be careful,” Logan said. “I might just have to tell him you said that.”

“Then I’ll tell him what you said when you accidently dropped the lavender into that potion,” Virgil threatened back.

“Hmm,” Logan said. “Truce?”

“On that,” Virgil agreed, “but you still need to tell me what’s going on.”

 “It is a surprise. A nice surprise,” Logan informed him. He looked at Virgil’s face. “Don’t pout at me.”

Virgil had not been aware that what he was doing was pouting, but he did whatever it was harder.

“Patton would murder me,” Logan claimed, “but I suggest you try that on him the next time you have a chance. You will certainly get whatever you want.”

Virgil sighed and gave up, figuring he’d learn whatever the surprise was soon enough. He chose to flop down on top of the pile of pillows on the floor that had been laid out already. It was his fourth ever slumber party and the first had only been a week ago. He did not know much about slumber parties, but that felt like a lot.

 Goodness, it had already been two weeks. He looked up at the ceiling. He felt safe here. He felt like he didn’t need to watch Logan’s every move as he organized things in his room, but it wasn’t going to last, was it? The king was set to be back in a week. Virgil needed to actually attempt to escape soon. He hated that fact. He didn’t want to leave, and he certainly didn’t want to go back. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d figure something else out, but no mater what, he did have to escape, and soon. He looked over at Logan who was slotting the books Virgil hadn’t picked back into place on the bookshelf. Not tonight.

 There was a knock on the door in a familiar pattern, and Logan walked over to open it for Patton. Virgil sat up to shoot a confused look at the giant thing that Patton rolled in.

“Ta da!” Patton said excitedly.

Virgil blinked at him.

“It’s food,” Logan explained.

Virgil perked up immediately. That must be a lot of food if he needed that to carry it.

“I know you haven’t gotten a chance to try a lot of different foods, so I asked Mama if I could use the kitchen earlier today and made a bunch of different type of food samples for you to try.”

 That sounded like literally the best idea in the universe. These people were very good at surprises and Virgil would not question them again ever for the rest of his life (or, well, the next couple of days he was around them before he tried to escape and either managed it or died a bloody and painful death).

Patton seemed to feed off of Virgil’s excitement, practically vibrating himself as he gestured to different parts of the cart. “We have a bunch of types of cheese and crackers, mini sandwiches, different smoked meats, six types of pasta, and every leftover I could find on this shelf. On this shelf, we have things with hot sauce, things with spicy dry rubs, curries, and things with a lot of peppers. I’ve ordered them by spiciness level so we can what you can handle, and we’ll only go as far as you want. Then this shelf is a bunch of types of cookies, mini cakes, pies, and ice cream!”

 “We are not starting with the sweets,” Logan said firmly.

“But Lo!” Patton whined.

“We do not want to make him sick, do we?” Logan asked.

Patton pouted. Virgil honestly had no preference. All food was good food in his experience.

“Fine,” Patton said. “We’ll start with the cheese.”

They had him sit back in the center of the blanket pile and handed him little portions of things. Some of the cheese tasted weird at first and Patton would giggle at the faces of surprise he made, but Virgil managed to if not like, then tolerate almost all of them.

 Then came the different sandwiches, some hot and some cold and all of the pasta and leftovers. Virgil eyed the plate of fettuccine alfredo long after they had moved on.

“You can have some more at the end if you still have room,” Logan promised with a fond smile. Virgil frowned at him. “You want to try all of the food, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can’t eat an entire plate of fettucine alfredo.”

“Maybe you can’t,” Virgil said darkly.

Logan just rolled his eyes and passed him another plate.

Eventually they moved on to the next shelf full of what was deemed ‘spicy food.’

 “Part of this is figuring out what level of spiciness you can handle,” Patton said. “So, tell us when it gets to be a bit too much and we’ll move on two the deserts. Also, milk helps wash the spicy stuff that so drink some if you need to!”

Virgil nodded and accepted the first dish on that rack.

Virgil, it turned out, liked what they called “spicy” food even though some of it made his nose run a little bit. It was kind of fun to eat them, honestly. Some of them hurt a tiny bit, but they also tasted really good. It was strange.

“I am impressed and horrified,” Logan said when he finished that shelf. “Do you… have nerve endings in your mouth?”

 Virgil shrugged. “Well,” Patton said, sounding pleased. “Now it’s time for the best part! Assuming you still have room.” Virgil nodded immediately and Patton handed him a plate he’d covered with chunks of cookies he’d torn off. He ate every single one of those and then went through the rest of the deserts. Everything was fantastic and he’d like to investigate a few of the cakes once more, but…

He pointed insistently at the fettuccine alfredo.

Logan shook his head but handed it over. “How many stomachs do you have?”

Virgil did not care to respond, choosing instead to shove his mouth full of pasta.

 When he was done with that, he laid back to relax and digest the food, feeling very content. Logan and Patton had also eaten a bit of the different dishes and were finishing up themselves.

“You good there?” Patton asked after a moment of Virgil just laying with his eyes closed.

Virgil nodded.

“Did you like your surprise?”

“Uh huh.”

“It seems he will not be doing any of the other planned activities for a little while at least,” Logan said. “So now might be a good time for you two to read,” he suggested. “I’ll get the rest of the food stored in case we want something more later.”

 “Okay,” Patton agreed. Virgil didn’t open his eyes, but felt Patton settle next to him. Virgil rolled slightly, so his head rested against the side of Patton’s leg. A hand touched softly down on the top of Virgil’s head and Virgil heard a page flip. “So, let’s see. I’m not sure when exactly you fell asleep last time, but how about we start at the Troll Bridge?”

Virgil hummed his ascent.

“Okay,” Patton agreed as he started to read. “‘Melly stepped onto the bridge backwards while sticking her tongue out at Al, but Lydia’s eyes widened as a large looming figure stepped up behind her….’” Virgil listened happily to him read about the four children. He liked this book. He hoped they managed to finish reading it before Virgil had to go.

  Chapter 18

They made it all the way to the big blowout between Al and Melly where Melly got mad and left the group to their fate in the magical garden by the time Virgil awakened completely from his food coma (he’d never actually fallen asleep, or at least he always responded when Patton asked) and squirmed around for a bit before sitting up.

Logan hadn’t been particularly interested in the story he’d heard many times before and was reading a book of his own on Patton’s other side, but he put a bookmark in his book when Virgil sat.

“Want to take a break from reading?” Patton asked. “We can do a bit more later, but we have more than just food and books planned for tonight.

 “Okay,” Virgil agreed easily.

“Great!” Patton said clapping his hands. “We’re going to introduce you to the most fun sleepover party event ever!”

Virgil tilted his head.

“Dress up!” Patton said. “Also make-overs. We’ll do you first and then we’ll help you learn how to help pick out other people’s outfits and make-up. If you want to, of course.”

“Sure,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“Yay!” Patton hopped to his feet. “You stay here. Lo and I will get everything ready.”

He pulled Logan to his feet and over to the chair that was the perfect height for doing make-up.

 They set up what they’d need for make-up and then Patton instructed Logan to grab the clothes of his they usually used for this sort of thing out the closet that Virgil wasn’t set up in while he grabbed the pieces he himself had brought upstairs and strew them over the bed so they could see anything.

Smiling happily, Patton looked over at Virgil who had stood up in the giant pile of pillows and blankets to watch him with intense eyes. He looked like he was memorizing every action Patton took as though expecting a test at the end. He was so adorable. A rush of affection and a touch of mischief hit him suddenly.

 “Hey Virgil,” Patton said. Virgil looked over at him. “Can I tackle hug you into that pile of pillows?”

“Tackle hug?” he asked.

“I run over and hug you so hard that we fall into the blankets. I do it to Logan all the time without warning, but I didn’t want to confuse you.”

Virgil considered the offer for a couple of seconds. “Okay,” he finally decided.

“Great!” Patton did a little hop before launching himself across the room. He slammed into Virgil, who apparently had very good balanced because they didn’t immediately fall backwards, but then he seemed to remember that he was supposed to let Patton slam him into the pillows, and so he fell back on his own power.

 Patton giggled when they hit the ground and drew back to look at his face. “I got you!” He leant forward to kiss him on the nose. “Oh wait! I should let you fight back.” He propped himself up on one arm and held out the other hand. “Pinkie promise not to hurt anyone if I let you use the 3rd setting again?”

“Pinkie promise,” he agreed with a grin, linking their pinkies.

“Great!” Without hesitation, Patton did the hand motion to allow the restraints to be in the third setting.

Patton was on his back almost instantly, but he didn’t even have a chance to think about worrying before Virgil pressed a kiss to his nose in a mirror of what Patton had done a moment before. “I got you,” he said proudly.

 “So, you do,” Patton agreed with a laugh. He reached up on of his hands to card it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil leaned into the touch and then practically melted on top of him. “Virgil,” Patton laughed. “It isn’t nap time.”

He grumbled something unintelligible into Patton’s neck making Patton giggle more.

“Sweetie, please.”

Thankfully Logan saved him from the unrelenting cuddling by poking Virgil in the side. “I have finished preparing the stations for the makeover and dress up. You need to get up now.”

Virgil made a noise that sounded like a growl, but he did roll off of Patton.

 Patton hopped to his feet and helped Virgil up before pulling him over to the piles of clothes. “We pick the outfit first, but you don’t put it on. Then, we do your make-up and hair based on it. Then, we get you dressed and do touch ups. Okay? Pick anything you want.”

Virgil looked over the options, eyes going a bit wide. “It…” he said. “It all looks really fancy and expensive. Are you sure you want me to touch any of it?”

“We wouldn’t be offering anything we didn’t want you to touch,” Logan said gently. “In fact, I insist you touch all of it. Beyond just appearance, making sure the texture of the fabric is agreeable is a large part of this activity.”

 Patton picked up one of the pieces of fabric he knew was very soft and offered it to him. He touched it with careful fingers, his eyes lighting up at the feel of it. They had to continue nudging him into feeling the different fabrics, and he hesitated when they asked him to pick his favorite at the end, but eventually he shyly pointed at a dark purple dress.

Patton clapped. “Great! Ooo, I already have some ideas for make-up that will go with that.”

Virgil let Patton pull him over to the chair they’d set up and settled down on it.

29009

Patton hummed. “I think silver and purple make-up mostly?” he said.

Logan nodded and they grabbed a few things from the make-up kit. Logan let Patton do most of the make-up as he tended to be better at the more creative parts, but Logan was the one who gave him the fancy winged eye liner with purple sparkles because he was really good at them.

“You look fantastic!” Patton squealed when they were done. He held up a hand mirror for Virgil who studied himself in it for a long few moments. “Do you like it?”

“It’s really nice,” Virgil confirmed. Patton smiled and hugged him.

“Next hair. We have a lot of accessories. I’ll let you pick from the purple ones.”

 He and Logan sorted through the jewelry box full of different hair accessories for the royal family and ended up finding three purple ones. Patton hesitated a bit over one of them, but Logan picked it up and set it in front of Virgil for him.

“Your choice from these three,” he said.

One was a purple feather with little hooks to braid into hair, one was a smattering of purple and silver stars that would weave through the back of someone’s hair, and the last was a string of silver leaves with purple tips that would wrap up the back of a person’s head from a bun.

Virgil thought for a moment and then pointed to the one made of leaves.

 Patton glanced at Logan who took the hairpiece. “I’ll do your hair right for that one,” he said. “I know how it fits.”

He grabbed the brush and carefully ran it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil seemed to like the attention, leaning into the touch, and a smile flickered over Logan’s face. Logan started gathering the hair together to make the low bun that would be the base of hair arrangement. Patton honestly did not expect him to speak, but then he did as he started to secure the piece with pins.

“This was my Pa’s favorite hairpiece,” Logan said. “Not the father you came here for, but my other one. He died when I was six.”

Virgil went shock still. “I don’t have to...”

“I wouldn’t have let it be offered if I wasn’t okay with you using it,” Logan said.

 Virgil didn’t move as he finished securing the hairpiece. “There,” Logan said when he was done. He picked up the hand mirror and positioned it so Virgil could see. “It suits you.”

“I…” Virgil said. His eyes were wide, and he clearly didn’t know what to say.

“Now,” Logan said. “I believe there are some other pieces of jewelry that would match this very well in the other room. I…” he turned away. “If you will excuse me.”

He turned away and exited through his bedroom door into the hallway. Patton watched him go and then turned to Virgil. “I’m going to go make sure he’s okay, okay?” Patton asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong, there’s just a lot of emotions.”

“I can take it out…” Virgil said.

“No,” Patton said. “I think he likes that you’re wearing it.” Virgil bit his lip. “He never really moved on,” Patton felt inclined to say. “This is… a lot for him, but I think it’s good too.” He leaned forward to kiss the top of his head, being careful not to mess up his artfully done hair. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned to follow Logan out of the room.

  Chapter 19

Thomas sighed in relief as the door to the royal wing finally came into sight. He was exhausted from his journey to Lamir for many reasons. Beyond just the physically taxing journey, he’d also had to deal with the emotions of loosing someone he had thought of as a friend while also trying to help her young daughter who had just had the crown thrust upon her.

Now he just wanted to see his own child and curl up into bed. He smiled at Owen and Kalani as he approached. “Is Logan here?” he asked.

Owen nodded. “The prince and his royal advisor are having a slumber party.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course, they are,” he said.

 He said goodnight to the two guard as they’d be getting off duty soon even if he did manage to drag himself out of his room again tonight and walked past them into the hall.

He walked past the room where they kept the jewels, though was unsurprised to see that the room was unlatched as Patton loved playing around with the different jewelry and had probably left it open when he grabbed them. He was however surprised when his son’s room’s door was thrown open, as Logan usually couldn’t stand for the thing to be open with or without him in it.

 Thomas didn’t think much of it however, and simply walked over to look inside. He was surprised when he didn’t see his son or Patton and instead saw that the only person in the room was a young boy that Thomas did not recognize. He was seated in one of Logan’s chairs and had his head tilted looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed to be trying to get a look at the ornament on the back of his head, and Thomas felt his heart seize a little bit when he recognized the hairpin.

He hadn’t recovered from that gut punch when the boy’s eyes drifted and met his in the mirror. There were a couple of long seconds where the two of them stared at each other in silence.

“Hello?” Thomas finally managed to get out.

Panic. There was suddenly horribly intense panic in the child’s eyes, the likes of which Thomas had never seen before. Thomas could only blink dumbly as he hopped to his feet like his seat was suddenly made of hot coals and then threw himself across the room to the opposite side from Thomas.

He looked around himself, back to the wall and considered Thomas with wildly spooked eyes. Clearly, he realized that he was pinned in Logan’s room by Thomas being in the door.

The boy dropped suddenly and disappeared under Logan’s bed.

 “Uh,” Thomas said, confused and shocked and still a bit in pain from seeing that piece of jewelry in use. He crossed slowly over to the bed and bent down to look under it, moving the bed skirt slightly to the side. He saw a small shaking blob curled up into itself under the bed. “Um, hi,” he said softly.

The blob did not respond except to continue shaking.

Thomas frowned and settled himself onto the floor. “It’s okay,” he said softly. Had he been here stealing things? Thomas had to wonder as he wasn’t sure why someone here for legitimate reasons would be acting so terrified of being caught. Though, that posed the question of how he’d gotten past the guards, and why Logan hadn’t noticed him. “I’m not mad,” Thomas said. “You’re fine.”

The boy looked up briefly from his knees looking terrified. Thomas tried to smile at him gently, but that just made him hunch into himself more, his breathes coming faster. That wasn’t good.

“No, shh,” Thomas said softly. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He did not seem to believe him, and Thomas winced. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave him here but trying to talk him down himself didn’t seem to be working.

Luckily, a familiar voice spoke from behind him then. “Dad?” Logan asked.

Thomas looked back at him. Both Logan and Patton were standing at the door, a couple of pieces of jewelry in their hands. They seemed very surprised to see him.

“You… seem to have a guest,” Thomas informed them.

 “I…” Logan said, beginning to edge into the room like he was expecting something to blow up at any moment. “Yes.” He got to Thomas and squeezed himself between him and the bed, putting a physical barrier between Thomas and the boy. Confused, Thomas took a couple of steps away without challenge. “That,” Logan glanced behind him. Patton had moved to the opposite side of the bed from Logan and Thomas and had gotten to his knees to look under it. “That is Virgil.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Virgil?” he asked.

“He’s… new to the castle,” Logan explained. Patton started speaking softly the boy, but Thomas could not make anything he said out. “Patton and I… invited him to a sleepover.”

“The guards didn’t mention anything,” Thomas said, sure that they would have warned him if there was a stranger in the royal wing.

“Uh, well, Virgil is… shy and we didn’t think you’d be back for another week. So, we snuck him past them.”

“Shy?” Thomas asked doubtfully. That was a lot more than shy.

“Particularly of adults,” Logan said.

Thomas took a moment to let that sink in. “Oh.” He was… scared of adults. Thomas could imagine many reasons why that might be the case and none of them set well. “I see.”

“Hey, no, sweetie, stop that,” Patton said, sounding distressed. Patton had managed to draw Virgil out from underneath the bed, though they were both still mostly hidden behind it and Thomas had no question in his mind that if he went to step towards them, Virgil would be back underneath it in a moment. Currently the boy seemed to be clawing at his own head. “No, baby shh,” Patton said, trying to stop him from tearing the pinned in hairpiece out, Thomas realized. “I’ll get it out,” Patton promised him. “Just calm down and let me do it.” He sounded close to tears, and Thomas couldn’t particularly blame him with the way the boy was acting. “You’re hurting yourself, baby.”

He must know, Thomas realized. If Logan had known he was here, then he must have allowed him to use that hairpiece. He’d probably even told Virgil that it belonged to his dead father. Now he was probably terrified that Thomas would be mad at him for touching it, especially when he’d come in to find Virgil alone without Logan to explain.

Patton managed to get all the pins undone and placed the piece delicately on the bed before wrapping himself protectively around the boy and hushing him.

Logan was looking back at them as well. He looked between the puddle of upset on the floor and Thomas. “Could…” he said. “Could I maybe come and see you in a few minutes, Dad?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. “Of course, I’ll go wait in my room. Take as much time as you need.”

He was careful to move slowly as he stepped towards the door, so the poor thing didn’t notice him move and mistake it for him approaching. He closed Logan’s bedroom door softly behind him feeling even more drained than he’d been before as well as anxious and a bit sickened. He went to his own bedroom to wait for Logan.

  Chapter 20

Logan let out a slow breath as his father closed the door behind him. That could have been very, very bad. He turned his attention to Virgil and Patton. Patton had curled himself around Virgil as much as physically possible and had tucked the boy’s head under his chin.

Logan slowly rounded the bed and knelt in front of them. “It’s alright,” Logan said, cautiously moving to put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil didn’t pull away. “I asked him to leave. It’s alright.”

Virgil tilted his head slightly too look at him. Logan rubbed a circle into his back as he slowly got control of his breath.

 Logan smiled softly at him and reached out to touch his cheek with a gentle hand. “You… didn’t hurt him. You didn’t even try to hurt him.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Why not?” Logan asked curiously. “It was a perfect opportunity.”

“Promised Patton,” Virgil mumbled, and the idea that perhaps the thing that had saved his father’s life was a pinky promise just about gave Logan a migraine, but then Virgil ducked his head. “And it would make you sad.”

“I see,” Logan said, heart in his throat.

Virgil kept looking towards the floor, his eyes starting to fill with tears again. “Are you going to turn me in now?”

 He was shaking and barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. Logan knew of course that no one would hurt him here if he turned him in to his father and the guards, but he also knew that Virgil would be terrified if he did so. He was already terrified. Logan didn’t want to know what he thought the fate Logan would be condemning him to.

“No,” Logan said before he could even truly think it through. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked.

“Well, there wouldn’t really be a point, would there?” Logan asked. “The reason we planned to turn you when father got back in is because you posed a danger to him, but you have just demonstrated that is no longer an issue.”

 “Really?” Virgil asked, sniffling a bit and Logan saw Patton’s arms tighten even more around him.

“We will have to figure out a better cover for you than just that you’re new to the castle, but I believe it will work fine. No one besides the two of us would ever guess your origin anyway.”

“S-so I can stay?” Virgil asked, “and you won’t throw me into prison or execute me?”

“I promise you were never going to be executed Virgil,” Logan said. “Even if we turned you in, but yes you can stay with us. We’ll figure out a backstory for you that doesn’t involve assassinations and you’ll have to keep up the lie, but I doubt anyone will question it.”

 “I’ll do whatever you want,” Virgil said, chocked up. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go.”

“Well, you’re our friend now so there will be no going anywhere,” Patton said kissing him on the cheek. Virgil relaxed back into his hold, pleased with the affection.

Logan smiled at them both. “Can I see your wrists, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked but offered them and Logan tapped the restraints doing a quick incantation. They popped off after a moment.

“You’re letting me go?” Virgil asked, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Logan said. “We’re not just going to keep you prisoner for no reason.”

 “That’s…” Virgil said, eyes watering as he clearly was trying not to cry. “You’re the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that was not so clearly the case,” Logan replied. He slowly reach up and set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go speak with my father. Patton will stay with you.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, seeming a bit hesitant.

Logan smiled softly and leaned forward to gently touch their foreheads together. “I will be right back,” he assured. “We will finish our slumber party, though perhaps we will table the rest of the dress up activity for another night.”

 He stood then, leaving Virgil in Patton’s capable hands to exit his own bedroom and cross the hallway to his father’s. He took a brief moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

Logan opened the door to see his father sitting on one of the armchairs in his room. Despite the almost disaster that had taken place a few minutes ago, Logan found himself smiling at the man. It was nice to have him home.

“Sorry about that,” Father said.

“It was more my fault than yours. If I knew there was a risk of you coming home today, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

 “Is he alright?”

“I believe so,” Logan answered. “Patton is with him and will certainly smooth out any lingering distress.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good.” There was a pause and then he gestured at the seat beside his.

Logan settled himself down on it. “How was your trip?” he asked. “You’re back a week early.”

“Yes,” Father said. “The trip went better and worse than anticipated.

“How so?” asked Logan curiously.

“Well,” Dad said. “The purpose of the trip was to convince the new queen of Lamir, Cecil not to ally with Mocnejsi, but by the time I’d arrived there wasn’t really a risk of that.”

 “Why not?”

“After investigation, it turned out that Cecil’s mother had been poisoned by an assassin from Mocnejsi.”

“Oh,” Logan said, mind already racing.

“They figured out that one of the young women who had been hired on in the kitchen for the winter had done it, and had learned her origin when they questioned her,” Dad informed him. “Considering Cecil was immediately approached for an alliance with Mocnejsi, their aim was likely to manipulate her going forward because of how young she is. Luckily, Cecil is a smart girl and has the help of her mother’s advisor as well as her own. By the time I got there, my only real role was to extend my condolences and reaffirm out alliance. I would have stayed longer, but the possibility that Mocnejsi may think to attack us in a similar way hastened me home.”

 “That…” Logan said. “That is wise. I assume you are going to institute more security.”

“I am, yes,” Dad replied. “I would like your input on plans in the coming day.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

Dad smiled at him, “But for now,” he said, “I think it’s time you get back to your slumber party and I get to finally go to sleep.”

Logan nodded and got to his feet. He leaned over to hug his father perhaps a bit longer and harder than was strictly necessary, but Dad did not seem to mind at all. “Goodnight,” Logan said.

“Goodnight, son.”

  Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

 Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

 “You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

 Virgil ate his food quickly, and then glanced over at Logan once he was done. Virgil was honestly at a bit of a loss. Usually, they came and got him out of the closet only once they were ready to do something, but Patton was still sound asleep on the floor and Logan looked engrossed in his book.

Virgil fidgeted slightly, unsure what he should be doing or even if he should be doing anything. Considering Logan hadn’t given him any instructions, he should probably not do anything. He didn’t want to screw up the first day of… whatever this was now.

 Logan glanced over at him after a few minutes. “Don’t forget about the potion,” he reminded.

Virgil nodded and stood, walking over to the closet since it would still be in there from the previous morning. It was about half gone now and it had gotten to the point where Virgil didn’t feel any immediate affects from it anymore other than some warmth. It basically just felt like drinking tea.

He said as much to Logan when he walked back over to him.

“That’s good,” Logan said, “it means it has been working. It has healed any damage it can from malnutrition. Any internal organs that were damaged should be mostly healed. You may even notice your eyesight getting slightly better. Your immune system should also be boosted. You will likely also find it is easier to gain muscle and while you likely will never be as tall as you could have been, you will likely still grow a few inches during your next growth spirt.”

 Virgil studied his hands where they were sitting on his thigh now as though he could see the changes that allegedly had already taken place in his body. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Logan replied, eyes already back on his book like it was some normal thing and not a huge kindness he’d bestowed on Virgil before even really knowing him. As though Virgil didn’t just owe him more than just his life going forward.

They sat in silence then for a few more minutes, before the was a soft sigh from the floor and Patton started to wake. He sat up and looked around. His eyes landed on both Virgil and Logan sitting together and he seemed to light up.

 “Good morning!” he chirped.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan said as Patton popped to his feet, “I have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you Lo,” Patton said, throwing his arms around Logan’s neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Virgil presumed from the lack of surprise on Logan’s face that this was normal for morning Patton, not that the fact surprised him considering how night Patton acted.

He still managed to be somewhat surprised by the fact that Patton turned to hug Virgil a second later. Patton’s lips were pressed briefly to Virgil’s head and then he turned to grab the plate Logan had saved for him.

 “So, what are we doing today?” Patton asked.

“I was thinking Virgil and I could continue our reading lessons if he is not opposed,” Logan said. Virgil nodded, happy with that prospect. “Other than that, I have no plans. I have already spoken with my father before the two of you woke. He is going to spend most of his day catching up on things he missed and said I could take the rest of the day off royal duties.”

“A whole day to relax then!” Patton said, happily chewing on his toast. “Reading sounds fun, but we should do something more active too.”

 Logan hummed. “We can show Virgil the courtyard after the reading lessons,” he said.

It took a moment for it to register, but then Virgil froze. “Wait,” he said. “We’re going outside?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“So, we’re leaving your room?”

“Are you alright with that?” Logan asked cautiously.

Virgil nodded quickly.

“Oh,” Patton said at his enthusiasm. “I guess you have been cooped up a while, haven’t you?” He smiled sadly and turned to Logan. “Maybe we can do reading lessons in the garden.”

“That would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Patton said. He looked over at Virgil. “If we’re going out, we should probably put your hair up and get you in some clean clothes.”

 Logan nodded. “You finish eating, and I will help Virgil find something to wear.”

Logan found him an outfit, though it was a bit baggy on Virgil and the hem of the shirt went halfway to his knees. When Patton finished breakfast, he sat Virgil down and carefully worked a brush through his hair.

“Can I braid it?” Patton asked.

Virgil hummed his consent. Having his hair brushed and done up by another person was a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He’d liked it when Logan did it the night before, though he had to very firmly push away thoughts of where that led.

 “Okay!” Patton said after a few moments. “You look good. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and they both led him out into the hall. He paused before they got to the door. “What about the guards?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve already given them the same story as I did Dad,” Logan replied. “They know you’re here.”

Virgil still hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Patton promised. “Here, hold my hand?”

Virgil took the offered hand immediately, and Logan stepped in front of them both. Virgil felt himself relax a bit knowing the prince was between him and the guards.

They led him to the door.

 Logan greeted both of the guards at the door, and they said good morning back. Both of them glanced at Virgil curiously for a moment making him shrink into himself, but they quickly averted their gazes.

Patton pulled him past them without incident and soon they were in the small dining hall Virgil had passed through his first night here. He remembered how he’d snuck around at the edges of the room in the shadows with the aim to kill the king, but now he was being pulled through the middle with the prince having just wandered past the royal guards in broad daylight like it was nothing.

 It was so strange, and Virgil still couldn’t totally believe this was happening. The retraced his exact steps back down the spiral stairs near the kitchen and out of the door he and the nice gardener had came through. He could even see the shed he’d been hiding in from here. With a blink, he remembered they were going to the garden, and he wondered if he’d see the man again.

For now, he just looked around them as Logan and Patton led him past the garden shed towards an area with many trees. Orange and yellow leaves were starting to fall from many of the trees.

 They made a satisfying crunching sound under his feet as he was led to a tree. He had seen the group of trees when he’d first arrived here and had even thought about hiding amongst them instead of in the shed, but they’d seemed scary in the dark. They were pretty in the daylight, however, and Virgil found himself tilting his head to watch the branches sway in the slight wind.

Logan sat down under it and pulled out a book and some writing materials from the bag he’d brought. Virgil settled down next to him so they could both look at the book at the same time and Patton flopped down on the other side, immediately setting to work tying fancy knots in the yarn he’d brought with him. Patton shuffled slightly to the side so they bumped shoulders as Logan opened the book and started Virgil’s reading lesson.

  Chapter 22

Patton bit his lip to keep from laughing or awing. “Do you like the flower, Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil glanced up at him briefly and then his eyes returned to the flower he’d found. “It’s nice,” he said.

They’d finished the reading lessons and let Virgil explore the garden a bit. He’d found a dark purple and yellow flower (a pansy, Patton thought) and seemed to be endlessly fascinated by it. He’d been staring at it for minutes now, almost as though he expected it to do something. Patton did not quite understand his interest, but he was still adorable.

 Logan sat next to him and the flower, smiling at him softly. “I imagine you’ll enjoy the garden in the spring,” Logan said. “There are many more flowers then. Of all types. We’ll have to show you all of the best spots. Mr. Deknis has a particularly good eye for colors, and it is always quite beautiful.”

“Who is Mr. Deknis?” Virgil asked.

“He’s the head gardener,” Logan said. “He’s a nice man, though a bit prickly when it comes to his garden. We may see him today if he’s in this part of the garden.”

“Would he have been the multrum I saw in the gardening shed when I hid there?”

 “Ah, yes, that would be him. I was unaware you interacted with anyone in the castle.”

“He caught me in his garden shed, but he wasn’t mean,” Virgil said, he tilted his head curiously at Logan. “Why…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“Why is he the gardener?”

Logan looked confused, “Well,” he said, “I guess because he wants to and is good at it.”

“No,” Virgil said with a frown. “I mean. Shouldn’t he… he’s…”

Logan seemed to think hard for a moment. “Right,” he said. “You’ve been under a blood compulsion. I’d guess you would have only worked with multrums in the military.”

 “I guess I didn’t realize that they could be other things…”

“Of course, they can,” Logan said. “Their abilities don’t make them any less of people. Mr. Deknis likes to garden so he gardens.”

Virgil blinked at him.

“…Of course, all things considered, that may not be a familiar concept to you.” Virgil turned back to look at the flower instead of answering. “Right,” said Logan.

There were a couple of awkward beats of silence. Patton bit his lip and happened to glance up. “Oh,” he said. “Speaking of Mr. Deknis.” He gestured to the gardener who was coming up the path between the trees.

 Logan sat up on his knees as Patton waved at him. He saw Patton and turned to walk towards them. “The two of you had better not be up to mischief in my garden,” Mr. Deknis called, his voice a bit gruff. He clearly did not see Virgil who had laid flat on his stomach to stare at the flower.

Logan rolled his eyes automatically. “We were just reading Mr. Deknis,” he said. “Your piles of dirt are safe.”

“No mud cakes?” Mr. Deknis asked skeptically still coming towards them.

“It has been a literal decade…”

Patton saw when Mr. Deknis was close enough to see Virgil.

 He stopped in his track and looked down at Virgil who was already watching him a bit warily. “Hello,” he said, his voice a lot softer than it’d been a few moments before. His expression completely flipped in a moment to something very gentle when he saw Virgil and the cautious look on his face. Virgil did seem to have that effect on people.

“Hi,” Virgil replied.

Mr. Deknis looked at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Virgil. “This is our new friend, Virgil,” Patton offered.

“Hello, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a nod.

“Virgil, this is the gardener Mr. Deknis.”

 “He’s not nearly as grumpy as he sounds,” Patton assured.

“Well,” Logan said, “yes he is.”

Mr. Deknis shot him a look that only served to prove Logan’s point if Patton was being honest. Logan just smiled back. Mr. Deknis apparently decided to let it slide because he turned back to Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mr. Deknis said. “Are you feeling better?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m a lot better,” he said. Mr. Deknis considered him for a moment, clearly reading how true that statement was. Patton was glad he seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I see you’ve met these two.”

 “Yeah,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly. “Be careful with this one,” he said, pointing to Logan. “He’s a bad influence.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. “He’s the prince,” he pointed out.

“And a bad influence,” Mr. Deknis repeated. “He’s a beacon of irresponsibility and mischief and he corrupts that one,” he nodded to Patton.

“I am completely responsible,” Logan replied.

“Need I remind you of the cucumber incident.”

“I was 8,” Logan said.

“I know how old you were,” Mr. Deknis replied, “and you are hardly any older.”

“I resent that.”

Mr. Deknis just smiled and turned back to Virgil who was watching the interaction with pure curiosity.

 “I just picked a few more of those apples for Patton’s mom to make into apple sauce. Would you kids like some?”

Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Patton replied for them all, standing up. Seeing that, Virgil also climbed to his feet.

“It’s back this way,” Mr. Deknis said, inclining hid head back the way he’d came and then turning to lead them that way. Patton followed him. He glanced back to see Logan put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and give him a gentle push to get him going. “So, what are you kids up to today?”

[marybethsjournal]

Fare You Well, Dear Sean

Summary: Karen finds out what happened to Sean in Rhodes

Pairing(s): Sean Maguire x Karen

Warning(s): kidnapping (Jack), major character death, religion talk, reference to vom!t, vague thoughts of suicide, super vague implication of pregnancy(?)

Word Count: 1749

A/N: To the anon that asked for Karen x Sean fluff, this is not it lol. Yours is coming, but this is just pure sadness

Also, here’s the link to the song from RDR2 that inspired my title: https://youtu.be/S5N-nLY32KA

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29829786

Today was absolute chaos. It had started out normal enough. Karen had woken to Sean shaking her wildly just like she always did when he actually made himself useful and went on a job outside camp. He thought she cared so much about what he was doing for the day. He hadn’t gotten the hint that she didn’t care. Well maybe she cared just a little… but not much! She knew that he wanted her to be impressed and think that he was some sort of hero, but Karen had a strict rule against getting impressed by stupid men. Especially stupid men named Sean Maguire.

“Miss Jones! Wake up and give your suitor a kiss goodbye!”

“In your dreams, Sean.” Karen mumbled, opening her eyes and swatting her hand at him.

“I always was told I’m a dreamer. My da-”

“No, not today. Too early.” Karen cut him off. Sean’s face fell for half a second, barely detectable, before a smile was plastered on his face again.

“You’re right, it is early. You know what they say, though, the early bird gets the worm! Sad to say that my worm-” Sean was going down a path that Karen did not like the looks of.

“Sean! That’s disgusting!” Sean laughed, glad he was able to get a reaction out of her. Any attention from Karen was good attention, at least in his mind. 

Karen patted the ground next to her, signaling for him to sit. “Where you boys off to today, then?”

Sean's face lit up as he sat down next to her, happy to be able to tell of the important job that he was going to go on today, “The Grays need security so naturally they called upon Dead Eye Maguire. Nothing gets past me! I could do it by myself, you know, but I decided to let Bill, Micah, and Arthur on the job. Poor boys needed something to do.”

Karen rolled her eyes at the inflated story Sean just told, but upon hearing that Micah would be there, she felt her instincts screaming that this job wasn’t such a good idea. All of Micah’s plans were terrible, truth be told, but Dutch thought differently, for some reason. “Be careful, alright. I don’t trust Micah as far as I can throw him.”

“Ahhh he’s a bastard but he ain’t got nothing on ol’ Sean Maguire. Don’t you worry your pretty little mind about that.”

Karen sighed, remembering that anytime she expressed any concern, Sean’s ego grew. “Forget I said anything.”

A silence, neither particularly comfortable or uncomfortable, grew between them. Karen thought that for once, maybe Sean was just going to leave her alone and go on about his business. But then he wouldn’t be Sean.

“Can I have my kiss now?” Sean puckered his lips and leaned forward. Karen could hardly find it in herself to not slap him.

“Hell no. Go bother someone else.” She tried to shoo him but he wouldn’t leave, not that she particularly expected him to.

“I know you love me, you should just stop fighting and admit it. I’m irresistible”

“I wish I was resistant to you” 

“You’ve got to stop wishing such pain onto yourself,” Sean paused for a second before remembering something that he apparently deemed far more important than further pumping up his ego. “You feeling better today?”

Karen sighed. No she was not feeling better, not at all. She’d been feeling worse and worse every day since she had first fallen ill a little over a week ago. She appreciated Sean asking but didn’t feel like worrying him (and she especially didn’t want to confide in him about what she thought may be causing his illness). “Maybe a little. I’m fine, I promise.”

“Karen, you puked on my shoes last night.” Sean pointed out. 

“Ugh, okay, maybe I’m not fine, but I will be. I’ll be alright, Sean.” Karen’s tone grew softer at the end.

“I’ll pick you up some cola syrup in town. Maybe that’ll help?” 

“That’s not gonna make me kiss you, Sean.” Karen teased.

“I know. Just want to help, is all.” Sean took Karen’s hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Cause I love you, I really do.”

Karen sighed, feigning exasperation. “Oh alright, come here, you.” She pulled Sean in for a quick kiss. It lasted no more than two second but it was more than enough to make Sean happy.

“See everyone, she loves me!” Sean yelled way too comfortably for Karen. He was practically floating on air, skipping across camp. 

Sean had already gotten up onto his horse before Karen yelled back at him,”I do not, you ass!”

Several hours later, the whole gang had turned to chaos. Something had happened to Jack, he was nowhere to be seen. Karen had thought woefully that when no one was watching, maybe he had tried to go swimming in the lake and had drowned. The thought sickened her. But soon enough, Kieran came forward and said he had seen some men come by and had thought they were coming for a meeting. Since no meeting had taken place, it was then assumed that someone had taken Jack. Karen hoped against hope that he was safe.

Karen, trying desperately to comfort Abigail, barely noticed when Micah, Arthur, and later on, Bill returned to camp. And she certainly didn’t notice that Sean didn’t join them. It wasn’t long after Bill returned, however, that Reverend approached her, a solemn look in his eyes.

“Miss Jones, I need to take you somewhere private to talk.” he grabbed for her hand.

“Are you crazy, you drunk bastard? Jack is gone! We all need to help look.”

Reverend’s face changed to a look of pity, which made Karen’s heart sink. She didn’t know what had happened, but something was terribly wrong.

“You’re right, we need to look for Jack, but I still need to talk to you first.”

“Alright.” Reverend led her over to one of the far sides of camp, next to a wagon. Karen grew more uncomfortable with every passing second

“Karen,” Reverend started, “The boys went into town to see the Grays this morning.”

“I know that already!” Karen interrupted impatiently.

“It was a setup. They shot Sean.” Reverend bowed his head.

“Well where is he? I’ll go to the doctor to see him, right now. I’m sure he’ll want to see me.” Karen rambled quickly.

“No, you don’t understand. He um, well he passed. Bill told me earlier and said there was nothing they could have done.”

Karen backed away from Reverend, her hands shaking. “No, no. That-no” She didn’t know what else to say.

“I’m really sorry, we all cared so much about him.” Reverend awkwardly hugged her. She normally didn’t like physical affection, but she didn’t want anyone to see the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. This couldn’t be happening. Sean hadn’t done anything to deserve this. 

“Bill buried him, nice and proper, he said. I’m going over there now. Couldn’t read him his last rites, but hopefully I can still pray over him for a safe journey to Heaven. I’ve got to at least try. I’d like for you to come along, if you can find it in you.”

“Of course I can find it in me!” Karen cried.This was her last chance to say goodbye and there was no way she was going to pass it up.

Reverend helped Karen up onto the wagon and they went on their way. They sat in mutual silence, save for Karen’s soft crying, for most of the ride. Karen didn’t feel up for conversation, understandably. 

When they were getting close to Sean’s final resting place, Karen finally broke the silence. 

“God, I hope he didn’t hurt for long.”

“Bill said they blasted a bullet straight through his skull, so I’m sure he died immediately. Didn’t see it coming.” Reverend responded, without thinking much over how his words might impact Karen.

“Oh my god don’t tell me that!” Karen sobbed, placing her hand over her face.The sentiment made her feel sicker to her stomach than she already had been that morning. This had to be the worst day of her life, no contest.

“I’m sorry Karen-”

“I think I’m gonna be sick” 

“Hold on, we’re almost there.” Reverend assured her.

A moment or so later, they arrived at a little patch of grass, shaded by trees that overlooked Flat Iron Lake. 

“Sean! No no no!” Karen jumped off the wagon and ran to the grave before the horse had made a full stop. She collapsed in front of the grave and cried harder than she had ever remembered doing in the past.

“I know it’s hard, but he’s in a better place now.” Reverend said in an attempt to console her. “You think?” Karen asked between broken sobs.

“Yes, I really do.” Reverend told her, kneeling down and patting her on the back.

Karen, while sitting through Reverend’s prayers for Sean, recalled how poorly she had treated him. She was the worst girlfriend, or whatever she was to him, in the world. No sooner had Reverend said “Amen” before she looked at the cross, which had Sean’s name engraved on it and began rambling.

“I’m sorry I called you an ass. I really didn’t mean it, I swear. I love you, I can’t believe I didn’t tell you, God I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Karen, he knew. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that he knew that.” Reverend assured her genuinely.

“You promise?” Karen looked back at him, her eyes full of tears and puffy from crying.

“Of course. He’s probably watching over you right now. And I think he’d want you to be strong.”

“I don’t want to be strong. I want to be with him.” In fact, the last thing in the world that Karen wanted to be was “strong”. She was pretty sure she didn’t even have it in her.

“Here, Bill found Sean’s satchel. You can keep it if you like.” Reverend picked up the small bag from the other side of the tree and handed it to Karen.

Karen's hands shook as she opened the satchel. Inside was a wad of money, a half eaten chocolate bar, an unfinished letter he’d written to her that was dated back when he had been taken prisoner by Ike Skelding’s bounty men, an Emerald ring, and the Cola syrup he’d promised her that morning.

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

My laptop is currently updating, so while I have that working in the background, I wanted to share a series of six short, mostly-opera-inspired autobiographical narratives/prose poems I wrote last April and May:

I would kill to have some wine right now.

There is a bottle of red wine sitting on the kitchen counter. My father bought it when he went to the store the other day─ don’t ask me what day it was, I don’t remember, the days already blend together as is─ and I have considered pouring even just a little bit into a glass and downing it.

And then proceeding to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it.

I’ve been contemplating doing that a lot lately.

True, I would kill to have some wine, but if I did go ahead and pour even just a little bit into a glass, and down it, and possibly then proceed to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it, I would most likely be killed before I had the chance to kill.

Kill or be killed. We are all trying our very best to do neither these days, but it happens anyway.

I am sixteen years old. As I start writing this, I am nine days away from turning seventeen. For me, alcohol consumption is thus not only not approved by the Parents, but also illegal. But then again, so is voting blue in the 2020 US Presidential election. That is also something neither approved by the Parents nor legal for me. But I digress.

Thirty-one, twenty-nine, thirty-one again, sixteen now, that makes sixty, ninety-one, one hundred and seven days since I watched one of my classmates get drunk at a New Year’s Eve party. She downed a whole bottle of peach wine (I didn’t even know that was a thing) and looked at me with her red eyes and silver-sequined halter top and curly dark brown hair in a high ponytail. You’re more beautiful than Jesus she told me and you’ll go to the moon on a rocketship. I laughed.

I laugh when something’s so unexpected I can’t do anything else. I laughed when I first heard Notre Dame Cathedral had caught fire because it seemed so ludicrous that I couldn’t do anything else. Notre Dame on fire? You can’t be serious, it can’t be serious.

It was serious.

I’m not sure if she was.

A little part of me wishes she were.

When I was in sixth grade, I told the same girl I thought her hair was luscious. Sixth-grade me didn’t know the word had a sexual connotation; the girl did and was offended.

Maybe a little part of me did know, somehow.

***

As I write this next part, I am working on a paper about state-sponsored censorship. I have picked this topic because it is a fascinating topic, it fits the requirements for the paper─ write about a major global problem─, and because I feel censored myself.

Expressing anything that conflicts with the Parents’ thoughts and opinions is strictly forbidden. If you are different, you are ostracized. I am different, so I am ostracized.

I am too proud, too strong to succumb. But it still hurts.

As I write this, I am listening to Act IV of Rossini’s Guillaume Tell, an opera about liberation, appropriate for both me and my paper. At this moment, Hedwige is calling on God, ‘the hope of the hopeless’, to save her husband and break the yoke of oppression that binds Switzerland.

It’s very nice, and the sentiment is good and true, and it works for her and Mathilde and Jemmy and the Swiss women, but it does not work for me. I lost my faith a long time ago. Ironically, it is French grand opéra, the genre to which Guillaume Tell belongs, that is partially responsible for my loss of faith.

It was impossible for me to watch Verdi’s Don Carlos for the first time in eighth grade and Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots in tenth and not be horrified by the things people do in the name of religion, to kill people senselessly just because they believe slightly differently than them─ even their own daughters (as is the finale of Les Huguenots).

How can a good God allow such things?

Do I realize these works are fictional? Yes. But do I know they are based on history, on real events? Yes.

“These things are meant to happen; they are all in God’s plan.” Well, can God just not find another way to make what’s meant to happen happen? I cannot believe in a God that allows these things to happen. To say that an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good God who can allow such things exists is a lie.

***

Now that Guillaume Tell is over, I am listening to another grand opéra, Les vepres siciliennes, albeit in its Italian version, I vespri siciliani. Another opera about occupation and liberation, but a liberation that comes at a horrible cost: the entire French ruling class is massacred by the Sicilians at the end of the opera.

If I didn’t care, I would stage my own personal ‘massacre’: I would turn my back, walk out the front door with the possessions I most needed to survive on my own, and never come back.

But I do care. They may not care, but I do.

One of my greatest curses is that I care about what I care about too much. My heart is too deep to not care.

There are some battles that are not worth being fought.

If a massacre is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing. Or, at least try to find another way.

Right now, I am at the beginning of Act III, at Monforte’s aria “In braccio alle dovizie”. In the original French, it’s called “Au sein de la puissance”. At the breast of power.

Monforte is the hated French governor of Sicily, the revolutionaries’ primary target. When he sings this, he has just learned that one of the main revolutionaries, Arrigo, is his long-lost illegitimate son.

By rape.

‘The breast of power’ indeed.

Just like with a massacre, if rape is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing either.

Just a thought.

I’m a woman. What do I know, in the eyes of many out there?

One of my friends said that Verdi gave Monforte his just deserts, but also overly beautiful music. “He couldn’t help it, though, not when his Dad Music Instincts were activated.”

I feel guilty listening to the aria, even though it is truly a beautiful piece and the recording I’m listening to─ a 1989 recording from the Teatro alla Scala, with Giorgio Zancanaro as Monforte─ is absolutely gorgeous.

Can we separate the music from the character, the art from the artist? I do not know. Everyone has something utterly heinous to someone else. Once we stop separating the art from the artist, where do we begin again? And yet, I do not want to support people who do horrible things to others.

Perhaps it is all relative.

Perhaps everything is.

Perhaps nothing is absolute at all.

That frightens me.

***

Today is Rome’s 2,773rd birthday. As a six-year Latin student and future classics and history double-major, this is cause for celebration.

If things were normal and I were at school, my Latin teacher would bring birthday cake for all the Latin students, and we’d eat it and sing “Felix dies natalis, Roma”. Happy Birthday, Rome.

But things are not normal, and I’m at home multitasking between this and a presentation script for that paper, and still listening to I vespri siciliani.

Now I’m at the end of Act IV. Everyone is celebrating the impending marriage of Arrigo to Duchess Elena, one of the Sicilian revolutionary leaders. Sicilian and French, united at last. Everything is set to work out.

But there’s still Giovanni da Procida, the other major revolutionary leader, who is hellbent on revenge. He sees this wedding as the perfect opportunity to strike down the French once and for all.

And thus, the massacre.

Everything can be set to work out, but there is always something that comes up. A massacre, a pandemic, a set of internal troubles that bring a proud empire to its ruin.

Now I’m in Act V, at Elena’s bolero ‘Merce, dilette amiche’. She has no idea about Procida’s plans; she’s just excited to marry Arrigo and bring peace to her beloved Sicily at last. I think I’m going to change operas again after this is over; the act is rather uneven (though I still very much like it) and I would prefer not to listen to everything falling apart today.

I debate listening to Berlioz’s Les Troyens, the closest thing to an opera about the founding of Rome and a masterpiece itself. But there is still too much about collateral damage for my tastes today: one kingdom falls and another loses its benevolent queen, all in the name of a supposedly greater destiny. And that’s just based on the first third of the Aeneid. I wrote an essay about that first third once for English class, using that thesis; my English teacher said it was one of the best essays he’d ever read. But I digress.

After a quick refresher on the synopsis, I decide to change styles and go with a story from the heyday of the Roman Empire: Handel’s Agrippina. Lots of plotting, but everyone gets what they want in the end and it ends happily for all. No collateral damage here. I am weary of that.

Sometimes I feel like collateral damage.

It’s tough to remember that you’re the master of your own story, not just a side character or a scapegoat in so many others’.

Everyone in this opera knows they’re the masters. That’s the problem. But it ultimately works out.

I want nothing more than for it to work out for me. It hasn’t yet.

But I have a feeling it will.

***

I got maybe halfway through the first act of Agrippina yesterday. I love Baroque opera, but I guess only in small doses.

No matter.

Today I’m listening to the beginning of Act II of Verdi’s Don Carlo. This is the fourth time in a row I’ve listened to it.

I read John Green’s Turtles All The Way Down recently. The main character frequently finds herself stuck in ‘thought spirals’, where she keeps thinking more and more about the same thing. I have those too, although I tend to picture my mind more as a bullet train: it always moves hundreds of miles an hour, faster than I can control, from one thought to the next. I constantly find myself retracing the figurative map of my mind to figure out what I was thinking about, what I need to remember but simply cannot. And it’s like my mind keeps returning to the same stations a lot; these are my equivalent to the spirals.

This opera, this moment, is one of my frequent stations.

Make that five times in a row now. This will be the last, I promise myself.

In this scene, a group of monks chant, praying for the rest of the dead Emperor Charles V, whom, I note with a smile, was himself a character in one of Verdi’s earliest operas, Ernani. In that opera, he sings an aria where he confronts his destiny as the next Holy Roman Emperor. My legacy will live throughout the ages, he sings.

Including in two different Verdi operas.

But there I go again on another bullet-train route.

The monks are singing now, their stark minor-major shifts making me feel as if I am there, in the cloister of San Yuste or in any of the great cathedrals of Spain, looking up into the vaults of the ceiling, of heaven itself, seemingly. The only lights come from candles in my mental picture, and I gaze up, my head uncovered, my mind only partially spellbound, more by the visual beauty and the history than by any religious feeling.

I am a heathen.

I have only been inside a Catholic church once, when I was fourteen; it was an impromptu side trip during a school-sponsored tour of colleges in St. Louis. One of the chaperones said the Cathedral Basilica had can’t-miss art, and thus managed to get a large section of the attendees to come with her.

She was right. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. And that was all I thought.

Okay, that’s a lie. I did wonder what it would be like to be able to have faith again, to be able to kneel in one of the pews, and pray, and believe, as my ancestors have done before me; after all, if religion were something you inherited in your blood, then I would be half-Catholic.

But I cannot kneel and pray and believe.

In this scene, one of the monks claims that Charles V fell because he was too proud, because he believed that he was greater than God. If a god exists, I do not claim to be greater than them. I am not perfect, not by a long shot.

He did not die because he did not believe in God. He died because everyone dies, even those who are supposedly the greatest of us.

God alone is great, the monk proclaims. I do not, cannot believe that. We are all great to begin with, but some of us are led to believe we are not.

We are the masters. I must remember that.

And I realize that I have let it play a sixth time.

Sometimes I am not the master of my own mind.

***

The sixth time was the last.

Now I am at the end of the act, listening to the showdown between Filippo II, King of Spain, and Rodrigo, Marquis di Posa. Filippo is the guardian of the way things are; Verdi called Rodrigo an anachronism, and indeed, he was the only principal character who never existed.

Rodrigo, he said, was at least two centuries ahead of his time.

I don’t know what exactly Verdi’s feelings were about this, but personally, I do not think this is a bad thing. Progressivism is often progressivism in any age.

At any rate, Rodrigo, who has recently returned from Spanish-held Flanders, has taken his chance─ a rare private meeting with the King, who is confused as to why Rodrigo has never approached him for favors like all the other courtiers─ to confront him about the horrific conditions of Flanders and its people. Give them liberty, he pleads.

No. I have given them the same peace I have given Spain.

A horrible peace!, Rodrigo fires back. The peace of the tomb!

We should not have to suffer until death.

Let history not say of you, “He was a Nero.” A murderer of innocents, a torturer of the defenseless, an occupier, a denier of liberty─ perhaps the greatest torture of all.

I once watched a video in which a director said, “To live in an occupied country is to live only half a life.” I would say that to live in an occupied country, or even any place where you cannot be free, cannot live fully as yourself, is not even that. It is to barely live at all. It is to merely have a beating heart and breath.

To live in spite of this, to simply be as you wish, is the ultimate act of defiance.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Control - Ralph Anderson x Shifter!Reader 2 (The Outsider)

Sequel to Halfway Home

@mandy23b​ @wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ #mendotagsquad

Author’s Note: This song, this damn song, oh my god. I confess I hadn’t listened to any Halsey at all (besides a couple of collabs with other artists I like) until I was music swapping with @mandy23b​...  But I honestly don’t think I’ve loved an album this much lyrically in a very long time! Anyway, a second part was always in the works. This song for sure inspired the finish of it.

Thank you @mendelskrull​ and @crawlingmist​ I really REALLY hope the sequel was worth the wait 🙈🙈🙈🙈

Control - Halsey

Disclaimer: gif not mine / lyrics not mine / The Outsider & all associated characters not my property!

I wrote this before I read ‘If It Bleeds’ but I see the immediate eerie similarities in my Shifter species. I think I might cover it off in the finale...

Premise: After a particularly erratic encounter with Ralph Anderson, you wait on your fate... can you trust the Detective to make the right choice? Can he trust you, at all?

Words: 5737

Warnings: Swearing  

⚠ Major Angst/Hurt Caution Warning (Again) ⚠

_____

They send me away to find them a fortune A chest filled with diamonds and gold The house was awake, the shadows and monsters The hallways, they echoed and groaned

I sat alone, in bed till the morning I'm crying, "They're coming for me" And I tried to hold these secrets inside me My mind's like a deadly disease

I paced around for hours on empty I jumped at the slightest of sounds And I couldn't stand the person inside me I turned all the mirrors around

I'm bigger than my body I'm colder than this home I'm meaner than my demons I'm bigger than these bones

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" I can't help this awful energy God damn right, you should be scared of me Who is in control?

---

Your first visitor the following morning surprised you. You thought Ralph might just have blanket banned the entire city from seeing you, but apparently some just wanted to break the rules. DA Kenneth Hayes stood hesitantly in the doorway watching you, clutching papers close to his chest – and you were inquisitive enough to wonder if he was about to serve you, or, you were going to be dragged into a questioning room. You sat yourself straight against the wall and folded your arms; “What will it be Hayes?” He jumped, and for a moment you thought you’d get a good laugh out of the papers scattering – no such luck though. “Detective Anderson has already appeared to have considered the full 48 hours. I just hoped as the DA you’d be able to shed a little light on the subject.” He was staring at you like he couldn’t believe you were talking, like an animal had suddenly found a human voice. You weren’t in the mood; “Look if you can’t tell me anything-” “Ralph told us to stay away from you.” “Then why are you here?” You realised how exasperated you sounded, but you hardly cared. “Are you… are you really…?” It was obvious that Hayes couldn’t bear to even voice it. “Yes. I am what he says I am. No, I didn’t have a hand in anything that happened here…” You tilted your head, “I don’t see why it has much consequence to you. They didn’t even tell you.” “But I know now.” You sighed; “Hayes just put me out of my misery, what’s the big plan!? I know I’m behind bars but I’m not an animal in a zoo.” Your eyes flashed, and it caused him to step back, truth was you were no longer trying to hide it, and they could all blame Ralph for that. “Least you could do is stop gawking at me like I’m about to spring into some kind of murderous, child-killing rampage, or change form.” He swallowed, “Ralph has it all planned out and I trust him.” “You know he put a gun to my head yesterday, right?” “I’m aware.” “Sounds like intent to me.” You scoffed, “I suppose to you I wouldn’t come under the remit of human rights, huh?” The way your eyes were burning an odd iridescent silver, and emitting light the way they were, made Hayes even more uneasy than just the thought of you really being a Shapeshifter, and he backed away – heart racing, “Good day, Y/N.” You shook your head after him with a roll of your eyes – Humans had always been so typical. Part of you wished for the days of old, when your kind was fascinating, mystifying and worshiped – and you could all coexist. Before humans, as they did, got ideas beyond their station. Now you were still revered, but not for being so unusual – for the thought alone that you could threaten their existence.  People like Kenneth Hayes would brush this off as a bad dream and would never allow it to be mentioned or lingered on again, even if it was witnessed. Ralph would never forget – and it would scar him deep; that was without the added heartbreak of you. You were the final nail in the coffin for your beloved detective. You were sitting against the bars with your eyes closed the next time someone joined you. And you were immediately suspicious by the level of calm they issued – for one, you weren’t even in the mood to have visitors now. Ralph hadn’t come by, and by now you were thinking of refusing an apology if he even offered one. “Go away.” You groaned softly, “I don’t need you all staring at me like I’m some form of entertainment.” There was a tap against the bars and you cracked your eye open, greeted by a disposable coffee cup; “I’d rather make sure you were okay.” You took the cup from Detective Sablo, “Why? You were in Tennessee too. Your best friend know you’re doing this?” Yune sighed as he crossed the room to sit on the bench opposite your cell; “He’s not my best friend.” “Yeah he is…” You took a sip, and hummed in gratitude; he’d remembered your coffee order. Yune smiled gently; “I’m not afraid of you.” “You should be. He is.” “He loves you.” “Loved. I think you’ll find.” And you’d not forget that soon enough, your heart still greeted you with a sharp pain in remembrance. “Ralph’ll come around.” You indicated to the cell that you were stuck in, and it made him grimace, “Okay, I know. It’ll be a long time…” He ran his hands through his hair, “But I believe in the two of you – Look, Y/N, I want all of us to get out of this… I’ll talk to him; we’ll get you out of here. I promise.” “I’m not sure he wants to see me.” You took a few gulps of coffee, “At least not alive.” “Ralph’s not like that, you know he’s not like that.” You finished the cup and placed it outside of the cell for him to collect. “Yune, answer me one question.” He nodded, ready for it, and you breathed, “Who killed the Shifter in Tennessee?” “…I think it was a joint effort.” “Answer the question.” “I wasn’t there-” “Yune!” He had to realise that skipping around it was just as bad as what you knew the answer was. He swallowed hard, and couldn’t meet your eyes, “Ralph did.” You gave him a pointed look; which made his statement all but useless, “RALPH did.” ***  Surprisingly Ralph Anderson did make his way down to you. You thought he might leave it the full two days and deal with you when he had to let you go, or when Hayes had figured out something that would lead to you spending a lot of time in prison. Maybe they’d even work out a way to pin the death penalty on you. You wondered if it’d work – but you weren’t sure you wanted to be the test subject. Or maybe he’d found a lab somewhere that was going to take you in – despite the fact that he’d spent the later part of his threats yesterday telling you that he’d rather no one knew you existed. You were back to lying on your bed and studying yourself with a depth of self-hatred – that this was something you’d chosen for yourself. That if Ralph Anderson came face to face with the real you, he probably wouldn’t have hesitated with pulling that trigger. That the blood flowing through your veins looked like the ink Ralph would make notes with in every interview he’d ever conducted, otherworldly, ethereal… dark and cold – rather than the rich red that could be associated with such emotions as anger, love and passion. The kind of emotions that were easy to feed on – your preference was love. Love was strong, and it only got stronger, and even when it wasn’t some kind of all raging passion when two people were all over each other, it was still there. And if you could surround yourself with couples (particularly those that had been in love a long time) you were at your happiest; and also your strongest. You supposed your Cherokee City counterpart had the same edge, but for fear, anger and total chaos. You could eat like a human, but you could sustain yourself on emotion alone. If he’d chosen a better path, he would have been able to as well – but he had to cause the pain he fed on. Which is why he had to move so frequently. After all, you couldn’t keep those close that you made angry or fearful of you – let alone if they died. But if someone loved you, if someone really loved you, you could live the rest of your life on them alone. You’d spent the best four years of your life living on his. But that was not the emotion that overtook Ralph Anderson’s body as he entered the room. It never would be again. You turned your head to him, and were met with that icy steel blue; calmer than last night, which you were glad of – you didn’t want to have to face that erratic anger again. But it hurt you; because your heart stirred just to see his face, and you had to push all of that back once more. He kept track of your every movement, but said nothing. When Ralph was satisfied, he opened the door; “Out.” You raised yourself, “What, they didn’t give you the full 48?” His eyes narrowed slightly; “I said out.” You stood and he unlatched the handcuffs from his belt “Hands front.” You raised an eyebrow in questioning but did as he asked. This was even more painful for Ralph – half of him felt terrible for going so out of control yesterday; half of him knew he was face to face with a monster, a woman who had lied to him for four years and broken his heart. He wasn’t about to apologise – and didn’t think you were either. He still kept his eyes on you as he picked up the bag, hating the fact that you were wearing one of his favourite shirts – he should never have given you that. But Ralph didn’t want any of your things in the house. He pulled himself upright to full height – you took half a step back, still not sure of exactly what he would do to you. You didn’t think Ralph knew himself. “Lets go.” He pulled you out of the cell and down the corridor – Ralph wasn’t about to tell you where of course, and it left you wondering if you were about to be met by a lawyer and a judge, and the same kind of water tight evidence that Terry Maitland had been. You supposed to the humans here your race deserved nothing less. And perhaps they were right. Humanity had never scared you; even when it had driven your race to hiding – you’d grown up around them, and you’d blended well. But humans had become the kind of scary stories told to children that ‘monsters’ were to them. Ralph’s reaction was simply proving every one of those stories true. When he pulled you back to the elevators you wondered if this was about to be Terry and the courthouse part II. Crowds of hundreds wanting a glimpse of a terrifying creature, and a few well aimed shots… “Stop it.” He growled, although he refused to look at you – talking to him was only going to make it worse, but upon flicking your eyes to the elevator doors you realised that all the thoughts in your head were causing your eyes to burn silver again. You blinked a couple of times and they returned to their ‘natural’ colour. Ralph gripped you tighter as he pushed you in, and as you found yourself in the parking lot, you were surprised to see there wasn’t a soul in sight. That only made you turn to him; “Where are we going?” He ignored you, pulling him along to his car and opening the back door – your stare was defiant and this time you demanded it, “WHERE are we going!?” “Get. In. The. Car.” Ralph’s voice shook with every syllable and you knew he was dangerously close to losing it with you again. He also probably didn’t like that you weren’t about to just let him order you around here, you’d always had a little bit of push about you – it was an aspect of your personality he really liked, especially when you were snarking someone he didn’t. Right now, Ralph didn’t need or want it – he just wanted you to get in the car so that he could do what he must. You only conceded because you weren’t sure you wanted that stalemate to end with getting shot – a little too aware of the pistol on his utility belt. He slammed the door on you and took a deep breath; it wouldn’t take much – he’d done it before. If he could keep a clear head, he could do it again – Ralph could finish this easily. All he had to do was get through this. *** You realised very quickly that you were heading for the city limits and sat up, twisting around in your seat. No court case? No going back home? You knew where the jail was and he certainly wasn’t heading that way. What was he doing? You bit your lip, knowing it couldn’t be good. Wondering if Ralph was numb to it all, or was simply that good at controlling his emotional output. It scared you that you weren’t sure of the answer. And suddenly you wished you didn’t know the answer to the question you’d asked Yune; one tear leaked and you rubbed your cheek on your shoulder to hide it, heck, now you wished you’d never asked that question in the first place. When Ralph finally stopped the car you weren’t sure ‘middle of nowhere’ covered it. You weren’t even sure what you were supposed to feel – and he’d been off-roading for so long he might well have been lost. Maybe Ralph Anderson wanted to get lost. It occurred to you that he might not want to be found out here; maybe he’d take that pistol and kill you before turning it on himself. Ralph didn’t seem like the type, but you felt perhaps now you’d seen him at his worst (what else would you call the previous evening), maybe he was… maybe he could do something that devastating. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel for a long time before he decisively shut the engine off – gathering his radio, cell phone, and gun, Ralph hopped from the car and pocketed all items before opening the back and dragging you out. Ralph marched you a little way from the vehicle and stood you roughly in the grassland before growling at you to stay still, and walking back towards the car. He stopped, maybe 10 paces from you and turned back. You blinked, but no emotions crossed your face. That only made him angrier, but Ralph wasn’t sure what he wanted to see out of you – blind rage and anger that would prove to him you really were the monster underneath your guise? Tears streaming down your face and begging him for mercy – as you rightly should be, after everything that had gone down in the past few months, after what you’d done to him for years. Maybe even controlled acceptance of your situation, that it had to end this way and you were alright with that. But there was nothing; not even that shiver inducing silver in your eyes. The silence eschewed and you found yourself looking around, fields and farmland to one side rolling for miles into hills, and a forest in the distance on the other – too far to think that even with your decent sprinting you could get into cover before he put a bullet in your body. Maybe if you weren’t human, but you weren’t about to give Ralph Anderson the satisfaction of seeing your true form. You looked back to him and took a step; “Look, whatever you’re gonna do… Will you just do it already.” The pistol was drawn immediately; “NOT another step.” “You’re really gonna use it this time-!?” You couldn’t help your cold laugh; “I swear to God Ralph Anderson, if you have it in you, it better be a good fucking shot.” If he wasn’t about to keep the venom out of his voice then neither would you. Ralph just shook his head. Paying more attention to his gun than you, he checked everything was in working order; “How could you do this-!? Do you not even think about what you’re doing to the person you’re with-!? How utterly selfish it is to play someone like that?” You flinched, pulling back a few paces – the metal of your restraints cutting into your wrists. What right did he have to ask you something like that? “Look at me, Ralph Anderson.” He didn’t. And this time you weren’t sure if you were crying from anger or because it was hurting you so much and you were just letting it; “RALPH! LOOK AT ME!” You yelled it, “Look me in the eye and tell me that even without the Frankie Peterson case, if I’d have told you what I was then you wouldn’t have reacted in exactly the same way-!” He raised his blue eyes to you, and he didn’t have to answer, the guilt was already there. “Tell me the second I said shapeshifter you wouldn’t have thought me insane – that the second I’d have shifted into someone else to show you, you wouldn’t have cast me out as a freak and wanted to use your damn pistol on me anyway.” “You could have HELPED the case!” “It’s NOT the case-! Stop pretending it’s the case! If you knew what I really was Ralph, you’d run 1000 fucking miles and not look back and you know it. The case!?” You looked around you again and now he could clearly see the tears running, “The case has put me in a field in handcuffs waiting for the man I love to kill me.” “NO. Don’t!” He held his hand up, “Don’t tell me you love me. You gave up that right.” “Then for Godsake Ralph,” you presented your body to him, “Just get it over with because I can’t take this.” your eyes narrowed, flickering again, “But don’t you dare presume to tell me that I can’t love you.” That was decisive enough and he swept his pistol up to aim for your head; yet Ralph knew he was thinking too much. He just wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was – wasn’t killing you just as bad as murdering someone? Sure, he’d killed one of you in Tennessee – but you weren’t an evil murdering entity (as far as he knew). You were you. And what Ralph would have to accept was that even if you were a monster, he couldn’t end your life without killing a part of himself. You watched all of this cross his face, even though his look maintained the utter hatred and disgust for what you really were, and you were soon yelling at him again; “Oh, why don’t you just aim for my heart—!!!!” He gritted his teeth; “Because that won’t work!” Hadn’t your counterpart taken a shot gun and a knife to the chest before he’d crushed its head with a rock? How many bullets would you take? Could he count on it being a one and done? You gave a shrug, wondering if there was just enough love in Ralph left for you to somehow talk him out of it, “For him maybe-! For me who knows-!” You focused acutely on his body, you knew that DNA so well by now; you could feel Ralph Anderson coursing through your veins even when he wasn’t a part of you. His breath was small, but still significant – the safety gave a click, and you realised this was the time to be anything that you could be but scared. Even if your fear was driving you to this. You didn’t really want to die, after all. You hadn’t come all this way in so many lifetimes for a Cherokee City detective to end your life in the middle of nowhere. “If shooting me is so easy for you, do it Ralph. But I should show you what you’ll do to yourself-!” Ralph would have asked you what the hell you meant. Ralph would have asked a million questions that he never got the chance too; because real fear finally flickered across his face, and his body became rooted to the spot, eyes wide. One second he’d been staring at you, defiant even in the face of your own death by his hand – until your eyes illuminated once more; but instead of it just stopping there, your whole body seemed to shimmer out of focus and pixelate. It clearly didn’t take you months to shapeshift into someone else – because now Ralph Anderson was standing face to face with himself. And if it wasn’t for the fact that your eyes were still a gentle silver colour (always the last thing to accurately render), it would have been just like looking in a mirror. Instead Ralph got chills; he’d seen a lot, he would admit to that much, but he’d never seen anything as unnerving as this. He had no choice than to immediately look away from you, hand over his mouth, for fear of throwing up over all this once again. Your eyes narrowed and you tipped your head to follow his movement – he better not think he was getting away with that. Unfortunately, your straining on the cuffs still didn’t cause them to break, and you could already feel the likelihood of leaving Ralph’s DNA in the middle of the field as pretty high, considering how raw your wrists now looked. “Look at me.” Oh, that was much worse. The shudder that coursed through Ralph’s body must have been visible – his voice coming from you; well him, but- It wasn’t him. He shook his head continuously. This was too much. This was way too much and Ralph was suddenly aware of how in over his head he was. He should have brought back-up. He should have listened to his friends. Ralph Anderson suddenly realised just how alone he was out here; and finally comprehended just what was in front of him. “LOOK AT ME!” This time you screamed it, repeatedly, admitting to yourself that there was a certain power that came with being in someone else’s body whilst also facing said person. And it’d never felt so good as this moment. Eventually Ralph Anderson did – but you could feel him when you were like this – and if anything, he was only looking at you because he wanted it to stop. He straightened; the pistol was still very much in play but lowered and hesitant, still you didn’t trust him not to take out your knee at the way he was holding it, and that finger was still hovering on the trigger. “What is wrong with you?” You continued, wondering if he might even listen to himself, “I can tell you what I think is wrong with you, Ralph Anderson, and you can hate me for it all you want – but I think it’s about time someone told you the truth.” You took a step and the pistol raised a little higher; “You have survivors guilt for whatever the hell happened in Tennessee, you feel guilty about everything that happened to Terry; from the way you arrested him to the way he died, guilt that you’ve left the Maitland family in the state it’s in and two girls without a father, guilt for the Peterson family because they’re all gone now – not forgetting the fact you shot Ollie. You think you’ve got off lightly with therapy sessions. For the record, I think he’s a God awful therapist and I get the feeling you don’t hold him in regard much higher than I.” You took a breath, “You feel guilty about everything that happened on this case, and every other fucking person that suffered at the hands of that shapeshifter and everything it ever touched.” You pointed to yourself… or… himself. “But I am NOT it, Ralph!! I didn’t do ANY of that. And you’re still here! You’re still alive and you’re still breathing! And you have friends and people who LOVE you!!!” You shook your head, suddenly a picture-perfect image of the man who’d been on the other side of your cell yesterday; “Face yourself—!! Face the person YOU are-!! How hard can it be!?” You couldn’t place your fingers exactly on the look on has face, it was such a distinct form of fear. No-one in the world should have to face themselves in such a way as this; and you could see it, Ralph Anderson was terrified of you. And you acknowledged that with a twisted smile; “Yeah. You’re damn right! You should be scared of me.” But it wasn’t just you, was it, that’s what you were getting at; “Scared of ME and yourself – at the man you can become!”

By this time Ralph was shaking, his hands were trembling and all he needed was one shot. Perhaps that was the point – was that what you were saying? By ending you, he might finally have peace? Or were you saying that’s what he thought he could have and it wouldn’t be that way? That he should face everything he’d done… that he thought he might have done, even when he hadn’t, and feel better. You didn’t want to die, but if he was going to do it the only thing you wanted right now was Ralph Anderson to be free from everything that haunted him. Even when you’re pointing a gun at my head I still fucking love you… But the shakes became sobs, and even Ralph knew he couldn’t hold that gun steady enough to take a clean shot. His vision blurred as tears ran; “God dammit-!” The pistol left his hands, settling in the grass – and Ralph’s hands went back to his face, trying to wipe those tears away as if you hadn’t been staring at him long enough to see them. Knowing it was over, you shimmered back to yourself, and although you wanted nothing more than to run over to him and hold him close to reassure him – the situation still had you standing calmly in the spot that he had placed you – waiting for Ralph to free you himself. Your detective crossed the grass to you, tears still staining his face, and again you found yourself wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him close. You weren’t sure you’d like the result of that one – he had pointed a gun to your head and been seconds from pulling the trigger. Twice. In two days. Even though his hands were still trembling as he pulled yours towards him, he managed to unlock the cuffs with ease. “R-Ralph-” “Go. GO-!” He wiped his eyes again, nudging you away from him; resolve completely done. And you had a terrible feeling that Ralph Anderson was more broken than he’d ever been before. You shook your head, closing the gap again and trying to get him to look at you; “You don’t mean that…” You whispered gently, glad that he didn’t put away when you placed your hand delicately on his arm, “…You don’t.” “I do.” If there was ever a time to let him know that no matter your race you were still you, it was now. Maybe he expected the monster to run for its life. The woman who loved him would stay. “Tell me, Ralph Anderson. Tell me you want me to go. Right now. Say those words. That full sentence.” He was still determined not to let his eyes meet your face; “I want… I want….” But his body was still shaking; and his lip quivered. Ralph didn’t finish his sentence before he was sobbing again. “You can ask me to stay. Ralph. We can go back. I know this is going to take time, maybe a lot of time… but we ca-” “No. We can’t.” He shook his head, “I won’t.” Your face fell as he held out his car keys, “Take it. Take the car and go - I don’t care where, anywhere - just not Cherokee City. Not back to me.” “Ralph…” Your disbelief was more than evident, after all, you hadn’t done anything wrong and yet realised you were the one begging for his forgiveness now; “…Why? What about you?!” “Yune can pick me up. Look TAKE them!” He closed your hands around the keys and stepped away from you again, “Leave-! I’m letting you go, God dammit just GO!” “NO!” You shook your head again, “Why won’t you let us fix this? We can make this work! You know we can!” “BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE WITH YOU ANYMORE!” You were forced into a stunned silence, and your eyes couldn’t help but burn again. If you expected anything from him, it wasn’t that.  You opened your mouth, but suddenly found it hard to form words. “I DON’T EVER WANT TO EVEN SEE YOU AGAIN-!!! BUT I CAN’T EVEN KILL YOU – I LOVED YOU TOO MUCH TO KILL YOU, AND WHAT DOES THAT MAKE ME!?” Ralph ran his hands through his hair, and suddenly that strange crazy energy he’d given off the evening before was back – but a hell of a lot more erratic. “R…Ra…Ralph.” You weren’t sure it was something you could reason with; and he snapped, just to prove you right; “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! FUCKING GO!” His advance on you made you stagger back, and this time the fear that ran across your face was something he’d never seen before. It unnerved him but he couldn’t stop now; “LEAVE! NO ONE IN CHEROKEE CITY WANTS YOU AROUND ANYWAY!” That was just a little too much, there was a knife already through your heart, he didn’t have to twist it. You were staring at a man you’d loved for four years, and you didn’t recognise him at all. ‘Oh my god, who… who is this man?’ The pain was unbearable, and you didn’t want to cry – you couldn’t show him he was upsetting you; but Ralph Anderson probably already knew exactly what he was doing. You shook your head, continuing to walk backwards towards the car – staring at him hard, even if you couldn’t hate him you could still let him know how angry you were. And you’d show him your anger before you let him upset you. ‘Human beings, all the same… I should just have listened…’ Throughout history when weren’t you told to never get involved with one? Lifespan was the least of the worries at the top of any other shapeshifters list; but you’d always been fascinated – and their biggest advocates. They were afraid and they had to drive you to this point, that always made sense – but they were fragile, and emotional, and they could love in ways so unconditional that you’d never seen another species replicate. Yet here you were, and the one you’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with was doing this. And Ralph Anderson was one of the good ones. “You have it wrong, Ralph Anderson. So fucking wrong. You think you don’t know me... but really, it’s me that doesn’t know YOU.”  You didn’t turn as you kept backing towards his car, “How can you – YOU – prove my race so fucking right!?” You opened the door, still glaring at him, you wanted to say it, you wanted to tell him that you couldn’t believe you’d ever loved him. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to pretend you felt that. Because even now when he was breaking your heart – you’d never loved a person as much as you had him. And you knew you didn’t know where you’d go from here – but you knew you’d carry that feeling with you for the rest of your life. There would never be another Ralph Anderson. You stopped looking at him, slamming the door shut, belting yourself in and starting the engine, throwing it into gear. You paused with a deep breath and allowed yourself one last glance at him. Standing there in the middle of a field alone watching you leave. Take a good hard look, Y/N, because you will never see this man again… You peeled your eyes away with an exhale, and closed them, counting to 10 before you pushed your foot to the pedal and the car began moving. But now you were stuck with eerie silence, and the echoes of his voice in your head – the remnants of his DNA in your veins. You knew Ralph would never let you go, but right now you couldn’t handle that. And suddenly realising how alone in the world you were, you had to pull over to the side. Tears were running before you’d even slowed to a stop, you buried your face in your arms against the steering wheel and all you could do was let out huge, shaking sobs. God damn you, Ralph Anderson… Why?! *** 9 Months Later…

You’d watched him for a little while, sitting in that little corner coffee shop. You would call him new in town; only you’d seen him a few times whilst running around. He drew you in in a similar way to the detective whose face you wore a little more often than you’d care to admit. Ralph’s body made you feel safe when you were alone, especially at night – he was familiar, his voice was familiar. Comfortable. Yet, with Ralph you could torture yourself for everything you’d ever done – and you were no longer content with looking at your own form. This man was gone because of you. Still, there was something about the one you were watching that you couldn’t quite put your fingers on… You tapped your stirrer against the top of your cup and bit your lip gently – never a fan of making the same mistake twice. But you knew that aura well, and he wasn’t human. Which was why you were sitting here and you looked like you again. Even though you couldn’t let him go; it was still Ralph’s shirt you were wearing, it was still his car you were driving, it was still him that you cried over every night. That didn’t mean that the man now turning from the counter with his coffee didn’t intrigue you enough to try it; had you found one just like you? His eyes met yours, and that silver flashed. And this time you couldn’t help but smile, using exactly the same tell on him. He wasn’t expecting it, and immediately froze, despite the tiny smile making its way to his lips.

And for the first time since you’d left Ralph Anderson in a middle of nowhere field, you didn’t feel quite so alone…

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I really appreciate your support for this series 💕 Thank you for your readership! I’m sorry!

[stormhawksplanb]

Storm Hawks Fanfiction: Plan “B”

https://myhushhushdarling.tumblr.com/PlanB

Chapter 7

For those who are on Mobile, Check out the #planb for all the chapters and related content!

The next few hours were quick. The terra was cleaned up, and the art exhibition was cancelled. No winners, no anything. The damage caused by the attack was surprisingly small. Houses were destroyed, and the ground we walked on had dips and small shallow craters. No one was badly hurt which was the good part.

It took a while, but when we accounted for everyone, including the COGA members, The Storm Hawks had taken off on their skimmers to search the terra for any other invaders. Leaving me, Stork, and Junko to deal with the wreckage. Usually that would be no problem, but I don't think any of them want to talk to me after my "This was my war long before any of yours" comment. But like with any negative situation, I try and correct it. After all, it'll make things easier if I at least try.

"Junko! There you are erm- doing... What are you doing?"

I caught him at the center of the town, pulling out the broken canvases and left over art utensils.

"Well the building structures are useless now. But a lot of the art work and other stuff is only partially damaged... So you know..."

My heart sank a little bit. He wouldn't even look me in the eyes. Was what I said that bad?

"Hey uhm. I just wanted to try and apologize for my behavior earlier. I shouldn't have said what I said..."

Junko turned to me, his head tilted. Then all at once it was like a lightbulb went off in his head.

"Oh that! No, yeah, it's fine. We've all heard worse. No need to apologise."

I was almost dumb founded by his reaction. He seemed so mature about it. Then it dawned on me.

"So... How long have you been a storm hawk?"

"Oh uh, since I was 15... I'm 16, going on 17 now..."

"Oh... That makes sense."

Despite how well put together the team was, I seem to have forgotten that they were in the same predicament I used to be in. They were all dealing with the carnage of a war they never started. My only other reaction was to give a quick nod goodbye and head to my next target. Why I did that I don't know.

Upon seeing the condition of the Condor, I cringed. There were scratches on the outer material, burn marks on the paint job, and some cracks in the glass. Glued to the hip of the Condor was Stork, working away at some patch work. Taking a deep breath I stood beside him, and hesitated to tap his shoulder. I jumped a bit when he grunted and glared at me.

"Heeey, do you need any help with repairs? I uh, I know how to paint and I can even get out most of those burn marks!"

All he did was turn away from me, and scoff. I gave an audible groan, wanting to get this done and over as quick as possible.

"Ok! Fine! I'm sorry for being a brat earlier, and I'm sorry for getting in everyone's way! But you can't just keep on ignoring me like this-"

I was silenced by a paintbrush being swung out in front of my face.

I felt embarrassed as the heat stroked my cheeks. He still didn't look at me, as I took the paintbrush and started working beside him. Something tells me he didn't really care about what I said. Or what I did...

After a few hours of hard labor, and helping Junko find the owners to the left over artworks, consoling some children who were lost on their way to the bathroom, the rest of the Storm Hawks squadron came back to the terra. All of their faces covered in mud and dirt. I held back a Chuckle since none of them were very pleased with their new look.

Soon enough the whole Terra surrounded us, hoping to hear about what had happened to them. Aerrow had looked away from the bombardment of "Are we safe?" And "Who was that?!". He Seemed, uneasy.

"It was... Cyclonians..."

Aerrow seemed defeated for a split second, and he faced the crowd again when the murmuring and disbelief subsided.

"It's not Master Cyclonian herself. But one of her lackeys had taken her thrown… Recently."

I locked eyes with Piper and muttered Ravess’ name in hopes the current spectators didn’t notice. She nodded at me, acknowledging my hypothesis to be true, and Aerrow continued.

"I know today was supposed to be important to everyone here. It was supposed to be a step towards our recovery as Atmosians... But today..."

It was like he froze on everyone. We all just stared at each other. My brain kicked in and I stood beside him, a sorrowful look across my face replaced with a sincere smile, and he gave me a grateful one in return.

"Today is the day we prove to everyone who dares question us. And that we now keep what was once taken by the Cyclonians."

It was a short statement, but not false. The crowd cheered and I looked back at Aerrow. A small smirk and a nod my way as another thanks.

Eventually, this part of the Terra was cleared out. Thankfully some neighboring Sky Knights arranged for people to stay at their own Terras while the properly qualified went to work to restore buildings. I had other plans. One of which was to try my shot again at convincing Aerrow to let me bum a ride to my home terra.

Walking on the drop down ramp to the condor, I more or less physically bumped into Piper. Arising a small squeak from her.

"Oh! Sorry!"

I shook my head at her, and playfully rolled my eyes.

"It's fine. It's not like you snapped my arm in half. What's up?"

She rolled her eyes back at me.

"oh you know. Navigating maps, saving a whole Terra, just normal Sky Squad stuff. And what are you up too?"

I shrugged at her, not wanting to disclose to her that I was looking for Aerrow.

"Well if you're not doing anything, could you help me with something?"

"Yeah, what do you need?"

I followed her off and away from the ship as she explained her plans for the terra.

"Well, the unexpected Bombing left us vulnerable, and out in the open. So we’re setting up a temporary Shock Wave Crystal tower. I'm not sure of how aware you are about the war against Master Cyclonis, but-"

She gave a heavy grunt as she moved a box of unmarked Crystals from a table to the floor, then taking out an old map.

"Terra Atmosia had a Sky knight named Carver who betrayed them, and joined an alliance with Master Cyclonis herself."

I grunted and scrunched my face up at the name, Carver. It rang a bell, but I decided not to press on about him. And Judging by her attitude, I'm guessing no one's a real fan. Least, not anymore.

“That also means the Terra is still without a Sky Knight. What's left of his squad still helps out, but it's hard to have a Squad without a leader."

"Why is that?"

She gave me a slight judgmental face. Shaking it off and smiling at me, deciding to humor me anyway.

"Without a Sky Knight or some kind of leader, the Squadron loses their title and rights to their Squad name. The Sky Knight is responsible for not just leading the team. They keep it together, and take responsibility for the whole squad. Those rules can be bent and flexed but the concept stays the same."

I gave a quiet "Ah" in response. It made sense. Something still bugged me though.

"If that's true, Then why don't they just recruit a new Sky Knight?"

I got the idea of what she needed help with, which was moving crates and sorting maps. My mother showed me how to organize maps, so I could do that much.

"It's not a hard thing, but because of Carver's stunt, people are scared to be the new Sky knight. It's an old wound. Some Atmosians have gone as far as to threaten the Ex-Squad members. Some people think that the whole team was involved, and carver freezing his crew mates was just for show."

"Ew."

Piper let out a huffy laugh, shaking her head.

"Storks right. You really are different from other Sky Knights. Speaking of which. Can I ask you something?"

I nodded my head, finishing up on the last map. It looked like they were creating blueprints for new energy launchers, and a radio scrambler.

"What Terra are you the Sky Knight of? Stork said you mentioned something about being a sky knight yourself."

I gave a deep sigh, making sure to look her in the face. The obvious tone mocking Stork, all whilst hinting at her curiosity.

"It wasn't my choice..."

"Is it ever really a choice?"

I gave another sigh, (Just now realizing that I’ve developed a nasty habit of doing that).

"I was designated to become a Sky Knight when I was 10. I live on Terra Argonia. I was actually hoping that you guys could swing round that way and drop me off..."

"Terra Argonia! But that Terra was swept out clean by the Original Cyclonis! That was YEARS ago."

I chuckled at her.

"Terra Argonia is home to the Nova Crystal. Why do you think they call me Nova?"

Piper was looking at me in amazement, blinking rapidly. I could tell right off the bat she was going to mention Dusty.

"That means you're the daughter of the infamous Dusty of the Raving Vultures!"

Yup. There it is.

"Ta da? I think. I don't know why you're so impressed. He's infamous for a reason."

"I know, I know! But do you know why?"

I felt an old wound open up in my chest. My face must have given away my anger because Piper was quick to apologize.

"O-oh. Right. You'd know. Can I ask what happened?"

Before I could speak a hand was placed on my shoulder. Arrow had joined us in our little circle. His face was serious.

"You're gonna have to hold that thought. We're receiving a stress signal from Terra Rex. We might also have a lead on where Ravess is hiding currently".

[emily-strange]

Growing Pains...

Chapter 4! Emmy has some confessions to make…

Summary: Emmy has been with the gang since she was a little girl. Her mother moved on, leaving her to be raised by Dutch, Hosea and Susan. Arthur and John are her brothers (argue and she will fight you). Becoming a woman is hard when everyone still sees you as a child. Since the Blackwater mess she’s trying to find her feet while dealing with her new feelings for the gangs resident douchebag.

Pairing: None yet, eventual Micah x female OC.

Warnings: Swearing, One Excitable Irishman

Chapter 4

 I make my way through the trees and spot Sean sat lazily at the campfire. He sees me instantly and gives me a signal to stay where I am. I crouch down as he stands up and dramatically stretches to look around for Dutch. He makes eye contact with me and beckons me over. I put my head down and walk briskly to Sean. We give each other a small, quick low-five and I continue my walk to the horses. I grab hay from a bale and start feeding some to my horse, Jett. She’s a beautiful, white roan Nokota that Arthur helped me break when I was 13. That was my favourite birthday.

I start to brush her as Dutch comes to stand in front of me.

“Emmeline” he greets with clear annoyance in his voice. He stands with his hands on his hips and I glance to the campfire to see that Sean is watching. I glare at him and all he does is laugh.

“I was callin’ you” Dutch comments. I just continue to brush Jett while I speak and try to keep my voice light. “Oh, was you? Sorry” I reply.

“Yes. Yes, I was. Where were you?” I look at Dutch then and shrug, “Oh, around. Dozed off a bit after cleanin’”. All he does is hum and nod.

“Emmeline. I know you’re bored…” Dutch begins but I’m so tired of hearing his excuses!

“I’m not just bored Dutch. I’m useless here. You need to let me get back to what I do best.” I plead. I know to others it probably sounds like I’m whining. Like Molly does all the time. But Dutch knows me. He knows I’m not one to complain unless I feel it necessary. “I know we’re still in…dangerous terrain…but we need money to get outta it. You know I can help.”

Dutch looks to the ground and nods.

“Little miss, you’re the closest thing to a daughter I will ever have. I will protect you till the day I die. And if that means keeping you in camp while you curse ma name? Then that, miss, is what I will do.” He finishes his little speech with a kiss on my forehead. God I want to scream at him so badly but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Instead I clutch Jett’s brush tightly and when Dutch turns to walk away I throw it to the group with a thump.

I place my forehead against Jett’s but pull back when I see Bill and Lenny approach with Micah in tow. “Miss Grace” Bill greets as he and Lenny start to saddle their horses. As Micah gets closer, I can see that he’s changed into a black shirt and a waistcoat. I smile but he remains emotionless and even bumps my shoulder slightly as he passes. “Hey watch it!” Lenny shouts as he mounts his horse and gives me an apologetic smile.

“Thanks Lenny” I say trying to keep the hurt I’m feeling out of my voice, “You going to the homestead?” I ask and as Lenny starts to detail the plan, I chance a look behind him at Micah who’s saddling Baylock. Once he’s done, he gives him a treat from his saddlebag and places his forehead against his for a moment. Just like I do with Jett. The act is so, gentle.

I zone back in for the end of Lenny’s explanation and wish him luck. Telling him and Bill to be careful.

“Always am!” he replies happily and I watch them trot out of camp, followed closely by Micah who doesn’t even look back. I shake my head and will the tears I feel to just go away.

“Don’t be so stupid” I mumble to myself and close my eyes. I tilt my head up to the sky and do as Bessie taught me. I take a deep breath and start to count to 10. I make it to 7 before an overly excitable Irishman claps me on the shoulder and shakes.

“And how’t it go with Dutch ‘little miss’?” Sean laughs. I give a humourless scoff and just whisper “perfect” while I look at the ground. I can’t bring myself to explain how frustrated and upset I now am.

Sean seems to consider me and the camp for a few short moments before holding out his hand.

“Walk wid me?” he asks and after a moment I smack my hand into his. He tugs me through the camp towards the water and then along the shoreline. So that if anyone really wanted to, they could see where I am but still giving us privacy.

We walk for a good 5 minutes or so, talking about nothing in particular, until we reach a dry area far enough away from nosey ears. Sean plonks himself down on the ground and gets out his pipe. I sit next to him and lean back on my hands, enjoying the sun and quiet. For a few seconds.

“So. Super-secret circle. Talk.” he mumbles while fiddling with the pipe. I’ve been telling him for years that a circle definitely needs more than 2 people. I love how much he cares though and like Arthur, I won’t get away with pretending I’m fine.

“Okay. But super-secret. Swear on your da.” I say sternly. He holds up his hand, clutching the pipe to his heart. “I swear on me da and any other MacGuire folk out there.” he says.

We’ve been doing this forever. Finding a quiet place and swearing our oaths. It’d always be his da and for me, whichever brother I liked more at the time. It changed daily. I don’t even remember how it all started, just that since I met Sean, I felt like I had a real friend. He never judged me. Not that he really has a leg to stand on if he tried! But he’s never tried.

I’ve told Sean my deepest, darkest secrets and he’s told me his. Like when I was pouring medicine from different bottles into the fire one night as a child, just to see what would happen, and I caused a mini forest fire….not my finest moment. No one but Sean knows it was me and no matter how drunk that boy gets, he’s never told anyone.

“I don’t really know where to start,” I say “I feel like I want to scream at Dutch. He…”

“Nah nah, not Dutch” Sean interrupts and I quickly snap my gaze to his. He can’t mean? “I saw the way you lookt just then by da horses. Positively….forlorn” he teases, “that ain’t about old Dutch.”

I take a moment to breathe. I can feel my face heating up and I actually think I might be sick. When Sean sees my obvious distress, he softens and squeezes my knee reassuringly. “You can tell me Em.” He says quietly.

I nod. Of course I can tell him. He’s Sean. This is our circle. Or whatever a group of two is. A pair? Yeah, a pair. A secret pair. That sounds dumb.

“Em?” Sean’s voice breaks me from my inner monologue.

“Okay” I say quietly and close my eyes. Maybe this would be easier if I wasn’t looking at him. “I think I might…like someone.” After a couple seconds of silence, I open my eyes. Sean looks…relieved? He begins to chuckle.

“Is dat it? Jesus Christ Em, I thought you were pregnant or summit” he laughs. I find myself feeling quite alarmed at his admission. “What? Why!?” I ask while glancing down at my stomach and feeling it, “Do I look pregnant?!” Surely I can’t look pregnant, we hardly ate in Colter and since then its hardly been a banquet every night!

Sean’s laugher subsides and he shakes his head. “No no, course not. But I’ve never seen you look so…so upset and…and confused?” he explains with some difficulty. It’s almost as if his thoughts are as jumbled as mine are. “You like someone though dats good. Right? Oooh is it our young Lenny? He’s a fine chap.”

I smile at his excitement. “No, unfortunately it’s not Lenny. It’d be nice if it were actually. You’re right, he’s lovely.” I admit.

“It um, it ain’t Bill?” Sean asks tentatively. I can already see where his mind is going. He must have been watching me when they were getting ready to ride out. “No” I laugh “It’s not Bill Williamson”.

Sean dramatically performs the sign of the cross. Wrongly I should mention. And thanks God. I brace myself for the next question. If he thought it was Lenny and then we’ve ruled out Bill, I know where he’ll go next…

“Okay” he regains his composure, “So, Javier?”

For a moment all I can do is blink at him. Javier? Where did Javier come from?

“Um…no. Not Javier.” I say slowly. Almost like I’m confused by my own words.

“Why not? He’s a sexy man!” Sean shouts and I burst out laughing. I also feel the need to look around as knowing our luck Javier would be standing nearby and he’d be very confused. But also, probably very flattered. That man likes to know he’s fanciable.

“Yes, yes he is. Shush!” I giggle and Sean takes a big puff of his pipe. He blows out the smoke and pokes the top of it while scrunching his forehead like he’s in deep thought.

“Okay, so not Lenny or sexy Javier. Or Bill, phew by the way….hold up, I will fookin’ end him if it’s that O’Driscoll sod!” he shouts equally as loud. “Hey!” I shout back “1 he is NOT an O’Driscoll and 2 NO it’s not him”. I smack Sean on the arm for being so mean about Kieran, poor guy.

“Well then I am fookin’ stumped.” he mumbles, throwing his arms in the air theatrically while holding his pipe in his mouth. He then seems to have a moment of clarity and I feel myself wanting to vomit again. He takes the pipe out of his mouth slowly and quietens down. “It” he clears his throat “It isn’t…me?” and this time it’s my turn to laugh.

“Alright!” he says mock defensively and I will myself to calm down. “No” I say through the deep breaths, “It’s not you Sean. I love you but….no” I finish with a kiss on his cheek. He smiles “Well thank goodness for dat. We’d make a great baby though if we were dat way inclined!” he states and we both laugh.

“Can you imagine? My brains, your hair! The kid would be unstoppable!” I wheeze and we take a moment to calm ourselves down.

Sean coughs and empties his pipe.

“Alright I’m done with the guessing game. Em, who do you like? But just know if you say Arthur or John, yes you are sick and yes I will dump you in the middle of nowhere to be eaten alive by wolves.” He smirks and at his statement I want to vomit but for a very different reason.

“Ew Sean, why?” I cringe before taking a deep breath.

“It’s um, it’s….Micah.” I whisper and look out at the water. I can’t imagine Sean’s face right now and I don’t want to look. His silence says everything.

“Right. Okay.” He says slowly and all of a sudden, he gets up and throws me over his shoulder.

“What the fuck Sean!!!” I shout as loudly as my position allows. He starts to walk further down the shoreline, away from camp.

“Well you’re clearly beyond hope so I’m gonna find some wolves.” Sean replies and I can only groan and hit him on the back. “Oh put me down you prick!” and with that he plonks me unceremoniously onto my feet. My hair is everywhere and I take a moment to pull my skirt down. Once I’ve gathered myself and the bloods rushed back to my brain, I see he’s laughing and I punch him in the arm as hard as I can.

“Ow! Violent little ting aren’t ya? Dat why Micah likes ya?” he laughs and I feel like I’ve been hit in the gut. All the wind has been completely knocked from my lungs and my eyes go blurry with tears.

It’s in that moment I realise, I like someone for the very first time.

And they don’t like me back.

[astrology-with-charu]

Gemini Season & New Moon in Gemini June #Astrology #Horoscope

Bike riders are out on the roads with a devil may care attitude - you know Gemini season is here.

Socially distancing, the neighbours are celebrating birthday screaming from one balcony to another cute wishes, you know Gemini season is here.

Something inside you doesn’t let you sit - you pace, you tweet, you read, you tweet again, you have to have to tell someone that thing you might have heard & might be true or not - you are 60% sure it’s true, ok 50% sure, ok who is ever more than 30% sure of anything anymore & subtract 10% cause it was told by my aunt to my other aunt, you know Gemini season is here.

Silly antics & a bit of belly laughter - it was a joke, a bit of tall tale - but it made you laugh didn’t it - when we are able to joke a little bit even in middle of a pandemic - you know Gemini season is here.

This is one of those rare years as 2020 has decided to be on all accords, where Gemini Season is beginning with a new Moon - Sun & Moon in Gemini - oh that’s not all Mercury, Venus, North Node in Gemini !!! That’s a lot of exclamation marks & it deserves it so.

Gemini heavy energy keeps things light within even when we don’t know if this is hope or delusion - there is no way to tell right now. Gemini season brings overload of information but there is no discretion in that - we don’t know what’s false what’s true.

It’s information - unprocessed, raw - all for our quick consumption & action. But we mutate, grow mentally in Gemini season - we are able to use all of that information coming our way to create something meaningful. We always walk off wiser, learning, reading, writing, selling, creating something of real commercial value after Gemini season - our mind grows as does our knowledge. And reskilling is what I feel we must dedicate this season to.

We will have the stormy summer of eclipses which I spoke of in my Eclipse note

(https://www.facebook.com/595133057621535/posts/847026582432180/)

but we will have Sun in topical zodiac sign of Gemini till 20 June - giving us flexibility, agility to mutate to new life situations. But things aren’t going to be fixed in stone - expect speed, too much information / news coming our way, things changing quickly but trust also your capacity to respond to it.

This new moon in Gemini which will have strong influence on us for next two weeks - walks the thin line of hope & delusion. At 2° Gemini it prompts return to State of Innocence, to never loose that child like belief in marvel of life - imagination, play, possibly bringing us back to books & games we enjoyed as a kid.

This is a bit of discovery process - discovery of new & of what looks impossible. We to some extend are prompted to not poke holes in our imagination - not shoot darts of reality at the moment. Sometimes hope in current moment is more important than thinking about larger life plan - small victories are more important than waiting to win the larger scale life battle. There is a bit of self indulgent denial of uncomfortable truths in this moment.

2° Gemini in Sambian astrology is depicted as “Santa Clause furtively filling stockings hanging in front of the fireplace” - there is a deliberation in creating optimism cause this journey of discovering the impossible that we are on requires a bit of faith, just pure child like faith in life. And the new moon at this degree of innocence is trying to gently wake that back up in us - through play, through reminder of the past, even through this lovelorn nostalgia doing circles in our mind. We are being reminded that we dream, we hope & we create from a place of possibilities not from a place of lack. It’s reminding us possibly of happy times so we can start working on creating happier ones.

You and I both know there is a whole lot of misinformation & sometimes unfounded optimism which is doing rounds. But within limits is that so bad ? Neptune is a strong influence right now & will be till mid June - that breeds deception, misinformation but it also rules miracles, faith, solidarity, higher octave of Venus - selfless love & compassion for others in the common boat. But it’s not the music of sinking titanic that Neptune is blaring, though many of us would be strongly hearting the blues cause the cocktail of Venus retrograde & Neptune square usually ends up in nostalgia or worst romantic mistakes. Neptune creates the fog of hope too - helping us walk beyond our current existence & our current limitations. Helping us do things that are frightening sometimes even heroic. Beautiful things come out of loss sometimes with Neptune faith cause it dissolves what’s not real in our life.

Conjunct the fixed Star Alcyone - known for Mercury of Freud - this is opportunity to plant a new seed devoid of judgement cause there is possibility of real insight provided we don’t yet - not yet - poke holes in the possibility by making a list of all the reasons why it won’t work. Return to state of innocence requires more than just laughing with your friends again - it requires us to create hope against hope. Collectively it puts the responsibility on all of us to put our thinking caps on, leaving the wallow of the past behind to create for the future. This is the star of Leonardo da Vinci - inventive, artistic, visionary. It’s linked with blindness to what’s in front of us but it’s also linked to third eye opening - there is potential for a visionary idea, real insight provided we stay off our own rushed judgements against our own possibility of success.

But this is your vision - not of a cult leader - that’s where we need to be careful of the deception element of this season. Easy test is to know whether you are working on your imagination & idea or another man’s dream that was sold to you. This star is also linked to Jim Jones - you know the spiritual leader that led a flock of 500 followers to mass suicide on the basis of his “spiritual” vision - yes one of those we gotto stay off.

As I mentioned in North Node In Gemini & South Node In Sagittarius note -

(https://www.facebook.com/595133057621535/posts/849354288866076/)

road to success till early 2022 is to learn to see world in simpler terms & making life decisions using facts not philosophy - no cults, manipulators of information calling themselves “guru or Teachers or worst saviours”, staying in present - here & now, not a 2030 plan but a now & here plan, empty mind of old information / learning / philosophies- reskilling, staying local versus globe trotting, flexible, media savvy, staying off extreme belief systems & extreme philosophies, staying far off from people peddling those as well. Rahu will continue to manipulate & exaggerate information - think of time post 9/11 when north node was last in Gemini - think of information/ misinformation spread post that as well as impact on our belief system, faith & on mundane level how globalisation and travel was changed forever.

While you sift, sort absorb information overload, stay on a plan - don’t get distracted by theories of people peddling them for click baits & views. Your time is precious & this period is crucial for you to reskill, learn, get more involved in your local communities, become a student of life - that feeling of being a student who hasn’t yet chosen his or her specialisation - he/she is confused yet full of possibilities cause anything is possible & there are multiple options cause everything is being recreated in some ways.

Both Mercury & Venus in Gemini are out of bounds till early June - this is our mind & heart together in uncharted territory. It’s great for developing new ways of thinking, hearing those imaginary noises in our head 😉, lateral thinking, learning information on things we didn’t think possible before. Shocking talks with no way of knowing validity of the tall claims by people, our talk till atleast 9th June will have no censors, no limitations. It will lead to the diplomatic issue on global relationships in first ten days of June which we spoke of in Venus retrograde videos & notes. We would say things we haven’t said before but we would also open ourselves to possibilities we haven’t opened ourselves to - out of norm bold expression of unique. If you listen to Howard Sterns - he has Mercury out of bounds! It gives creative talent for dissolving boundaries of what is normally possible - we are able to go unorthodox and with Mercury zooming ahead of Sun it’s the time to try the untested.

This will happen in love & intimacy too with Venus out of bounds - but remember Venus is retrograde - experiment but don’t get attach to whatever quirky pleasure or relationship you are trying out. It may not fit post the retrograde so don’t overextend financially or emotionally or in fashion / dramatic change in looks - we are bound to go for the ne real tried before fashions & styles.

In this out of bound period - you would find yourself or yours taking the risk to go for a job or career or project never tried before but more to their liking.

Next week 25-27 May we would see a display of exaggeration or hyperbole unfortunately & it will escalate tensions. There is need for adjustments on these dates - need to be flexible to see things from others perspective as our compulsive side or of others we deal with can get out of control. Arguments are possible as anything that’s being created contrary to what we want can bring up fears or rule us up while our mind & heart is out of bounds. We would need to consciously stay humble in our talk but still communicate what we need.

On 28th May North Node in Gemini will meet Mercury first time in 19 years - unicorns won’t fly but we would get amped up to talk & a chance discussion or messaging or thought can give a hint like boulder to a growth opportunity. Next 6 months we are going to be growing it & perfecting over next 18 months with North Node here. If you miss it don’t worry - we can’t really miss our destiny - we would have Sun make the same aspect right before summer solstice in June. But make an effort on these days to listen to signs, to yourself, as you would be just beginning to develop awareness to what growth opportunities north node in Gemini will bring to us. 28 May, 19 June & 5 August are exact dates when our personal planets would make first contact with nodes - support required to respond to upcoming opportunities usually comes on those days so listen in.

On 29th May all the way to end of month - Saturn with Virgo moon will guide us to partition our big ideas into actionable steps. Words may not come out in the way we want - I won’t choose this time for external communication but more for a step by step plan & to create real ways to create gains from those out of bound ideas.

While eclipses will bring storms & fated changes - Gemini season always reminds us to not forget to play, connect & laugh.

https://www.facebook.com/595133057621535/posts/860613727740132/

After a bit of panic attack, I played Candy land today - we are never too old to play, never too old to learn new skills - many brilliant ideas came from play!

[writersmacchiato]

Oh, Wicked? | Supernatural AU! Dead Poets Society {Prologue}

Summary: Morin Harbor is a small, run-down coastal town with more superstitions than there are residents. There aren’t many rules, but you find yourself breaking the most important one: don’t enter the woods.

———

“Don’t go past the wood line.”

It was a warning that was often spread by the town’s folk, a whisper, as if prying ears were just around the corner, waiting. Your parents were told by their parents who were told by their parents who were told by their parents to never venture farther than the wood line. It was a clear divide where the town ended and the forest began.

The town of Morin Harbor was once a lavish and bustling seaport full of trade and commerce. When the war began, it took the men and boys and the women had to continue the work. It was dark times. The weather, always so dismal, was a constant cloud that hung over the townsfolk as they worried over their loved ones. It was a joyous affair when the war was declared over and the men from Morin Harbor began to trickle back to town, only they weren’t the same men who had left. Something was taken from them that couldn’t be fixed. Life returned to normal, but there was a tension that lingered and never spoken of.

Until the incident with the Russell family.

Billy Russell was the son of a sea captain, often seen trailing after his father as a young boy. The Russell family were well respected in the community. It was a given that Billy would enlist when the war began, he left behind his wife that was a few weeks pregnant. When he came back from the war, he was one of the only ones from his unit that survived, he was different. The light, cheeriness behind his eyes was gone. Billy was quiet, hardly speaking a word. The baby was two years old, uncomfortable around the stranger that was meant to be his father. Billy didn’t like the looks his own child gave him.

He spent most of his time on the coast of the harbor, staring out at the horizon, like he used to when his father would leave on a exhibition. Billy’s wife, Margaret, was worried about him. He wasn’t the same man she married. Her mother heard her concerns but did nothing to appease her, saying that it was her duty as a wife to stay with him. Margaret became pregnant again, and this time Billy was present for the birth. And for the nights spent with a screaming baby. The baby, a wee girl, had quite the pair of lungs on her. She never stopped crying, it seemed to Billy. Every night, just as he drifted off to sleep, he would be jostled awake to the screaming of the baby.

Margaret was tired. Spending two years with her son, all by herself, and having to support herself and her child was exhausting. With Billy back, she thought it would change. If anything it worsened, for she now had to support her entire family. And, the baby, the beautiful baby girl, oh so precious, just never shut up. Margaret cried herself to sleep, thinking that she was an awful wife and mother. The image of her own mother reprimanding her caused her to sink further and further into herself until she was just a shadow of who she used to be.

One night, it was horrible outside. There was a storm brewing, all the townsfolk had boarded up their windows and stockpiled their food. It was something nasty in the air. The air tasted like metal. Margaret was deep asleep, her son next to her, a book still in her hand. Her son, James, was still awake, playing with the golden ring on her finger. It looked like copper, dirty with time, but he enjoyed playing with it. His eyes drooped shut, sleep wrapping its embrace around him.

“MA!”

It was a strangled cry from the room where his sister slept. She was crying, as usual, but not from hunger. Terrified shrieks left her mouth, instantly waking James. His mother was still dead asleep, looking so pale in the light of the candle.

“Mama.” He shook her shoulders, but she didn’t even flinch. “Wake up. Something’s wrong with Mary.”

Margaret didn’t stir, and unknown to James, wouldn’t move ever again.

James was a brave child, even at the age of four. His mother told him so often and he did anything to please her, he knew that she wanted him to protect Mary. His feet dragged against the wood floor, fear almost paralyzing him but the thought of defenseless Mary moved him forward.

The door cracked open and he peers through, catching sight of his father hovering over Mary’s bassinet. Mary is no longer crying, but his father is.

“Da?”

Billy’s head snaps toward the noise, a madness in his eyes that scares James.

“She wouldn’t stop crying.” His voice is raw, cracked. “Just wouldn’t shut up.”

“Mary’s okay?”

Billy is no longer recognizable to his son, who realizes with horror that Mary isn’t breathing. James is quick, running out the front door before Billy can comprehend it.

James doesn’t have a plan, just knows that he has to run.

Run. Run. Run.

Far away from his father. It’s dark, the clouds are alive with thunder and covering the moon. Branches scratch at his face, but he runs. He hears a twig snap behind him, driving him to run faster than he ever has.

“James!” He hears the yell of his father, stomping after him.

James forced himself to stop, trembling against the trunk of a tree as he tries to gather his bearings. The nearest house was Mr. Wilkinson, but it would be almost impossible to find it in the dark. The sounds of his father get closer and James clutches the pendent around his neck, given to him by his grandfather; a simple compass to guide him.

“James.”

It isn’t his father who calls him, instead a soft warm voice similar to his mother. Behind him, he sees a light.

“James!” His father yells, spurring him to flee deeper into the woods toward the light.

The townsfolk never know what happened to James Russell. Some say he stands at the wood line, waiting to lure young children into play with him. Others say his father caught him in the woods and killed him, just like he did with his wife and daughter. Billy Russel was hung in the town square.

Your parents, warned by their parents, warned you to not venture past the wood line. There were bad things in the forest. Of course, they never said what was in the forest.

And, oh how you should have listened...Your cat Milly disappeared last week and you spent every day looking for her. She wasn’t in the graveyard, the church, the alleys of Main Street, and your backyard was so overgrown with weeds that not even a raccoon could venture out there. There was one place you hadn’t checked, somewhere that was forbidden.

The forest.

It was a sunny day, the clouds were nowhere to be seen, and it cast a warm glow over the leaves as you slowly walked down the faint trail. Everything was fine, until you heard a snap of a twig farther off the path where there was a thicket of trees. A giggle sounded off, eerily similar to that a little boy. Instantly you think of James Russell who is rumored to be here in spirit. It was dark by those trees, the sunlight failing to reach this neck of the woods.

There is a rustling of leaves from behind you. When you turn there is nothing but the leaves waving in the breeze. A chill runs down your spine.

Milly wouldn’t venture out here, you think, glancing back the way you came. No longer could you see the outline of houses or the crisp peak of the church.

You were alone.

And, then, just as you’ve made up your mind to go back home, you hear it. A soft meowing coming from within the trees.

“Milly?” You try to call, but your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper.

It sounds again, this time fainter as it fades. You see a light through the thicket of trees, another rustling of leaves behind you. Rather than face what is lurking behind you, you walk fast toward the faint light until it becomes brighter.

It was a house. No, it was a manor. Overgrown with vines and weeds, it looked dreary but stood proud. A window shining bright on the second floor, what drew you through the trees.

“I believe this is yours.”

You spun around at the voice, eyes widening to see a man holding Milly in his arms. Milly looked content, neck stretched out as the man scratched under her chin.

“Yes.”

You made no farther move, heart pounding. The man smiled, he seemed harmless, but why was he out here?

“She’s been waiting for you to come get her. I’ve tried to get her to leave but alas, someone kept feeding her treats.” Was it your imagination or did the man look back at the manor, like he was talking to someone?

This was, without a doubt, the most bizarre thing to ever happen to you.

The man sets Milly down, who slowly walked over with her tail swishing back and forth. She settled in your arms, looking perfectly innocent as if she hadn’t almost worried you to an early grave.

“I trust you know your way back.” The man checked his watch. “The sun will be setting soon, best for you to be on your way.”

“What!” You step forward, mind racing almost as fast as your heart. “What is this place? Who are you? I mean, I didn’t know this place existed.”

“Well, how could you? For all extents and purposes, it doesn’t exist.” He turns away and you know he’ll leave it at that.

“What’s your name?”

A pause, and then a small chuckle. “You’re very curious. We like that here. I hope to see you again, Y/N.”

How did he know your name? Before you can ask, he’s gone. One moment he’s there, and then the next he’s gone. In the blink of an eye.

A part of you wants to go to the manor, but something, your sanity most likely, has you turning around.

Milly purrs in your arms, when you glance down you see the tag on her collar.

Milly | If lost, return to Y/N L/N.

Well, that answered one question.

. . . .

You had to be hallucinating, you were sure of it. There was nothing in the woods. Nothing. The Russel family had been on your mind all week after your teacher had talked about it in class, you were projecting. There had to be plenty of abandoned houses in the woods, it was vast and largely unexplored. Several attempts at expanding the town never took place, something keeping it at bay.

Despite your insistence that it was nothing, you found yourself outside the door of Gerard Pitts.

Gerard, who went as Pitts, was a year older than you. He was quiet, but friendly, and often teased for his belief in the supernatural. While you never believed yourself, it was somewhere in the middle after today.

“Hello?” Pitts opened the door, brows furrowed as he looked at you. “Can I help you?”

“Uh, hi. I need to talk to you.” You say. “It’s...for school?”

Pitts looks confused, but he lets you inside.

Pitts’ room looks like that of a typical teenage boy, except his bookshelf is covered in titles ranging from cults to werewolf lore. There is a bulletin board against the wall that has a red string on it, newspaper clippings and photos stuck to the board with a pin.

“So, school project?”

“What?” You blink, before you remember the lie. “Oh, right. It’s about the woods.” So much for being subtle.

“The woods? As in, the woods?” He looks interested, leaning against his desk.

“Yeah, the woods.” You say.

“What class is this for?” His confusion is back.

You deflate. There was no point in being dishonest and Pitts seemed like the kind of guy you could trust and his belief was needed right now.

“It’s not for school.” You hesitate. “I went there today.”

“You what!” He gasps.

“My cat was missing and it was the last place I could think to look.”

His mouth opens and closes as he tries to think of a response. “What was it like? Did you take any pictures?”

“No, why would I?” You frown.

“Did you find your cat?”

“That’s the thing, I did.” Your voice drops, as if fear of someone listening. “And that wasn’t the only thing I found.”

Pitts leans forward eagerly, nodding along.

“I found a house, well it was more like a manor. Kind of like a boarding school, but it was abandoned.”

“Did you go inside?” Pitts looks so excited, like he might burst.

“No, but that isn’t all. There was a man. I talked to him. He seemed normal, but he just disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Pitts runs a hand over his face, looking deep in thought. “I wonder if...”

He trailed off, going to his bookshelf for a moment before pulling out a dusty, tattered book. His fingers trace the cover, before he flips through it.

The Welton Academy, 1959.

You feel as if ice water is poured over you, looking at a photograph of the same building from earlier, only in its prime. There was no mistaking that it was the same place that you had seen earlier, complete with the gate and statues. Pitts continues to go through the book, before you have him go back a page. It has the teachers all lined up with their names and you’re startled to see the man from earlier, the exact same man, smiling softly in a picture. Professor Keating.

“Oh my god, that’s him. That’s the man I saw.”

“That’s not impossible. This was over twenty years ago.”

“Pitts,” your voice is shaky, legs wobbling as you sit down. “The man in that picture is the same man I saw today. I talked to him, he was holding Milly...”

“We have to go there.” Pitts heads toward the door. “I’ll call Meeks and we’ll head over there tonight. This is exactly the break we’ve been looking for!”

You’re in half a daze, wondering how it was possible for the man, Professor Keating, to be alive. Was it his son? That could explain it. But, they were identical down to the tie.

“Y/N, come on.” Pitts comes back into the room. “I called Meeks, he’s meeting us here.”

Pitts rummages through his room, pulling out a bag that he puts a recorder in as well as a camera. He turns on a flashlight, grimacing when it shines in his eyes.

“So, wait.” You stand up. “We don’t know what it is going on but you’re willing to just go to some abandoned building where a strange man is? What if he’s dangerous?”

“Haven’t you heard of Oh, Wicked?”

“What?”

“It’s the name of our podcast. We investigate things that happen in this town that aren’t normal. This isn’t normal.”

“But—“

“You don’t have to come along.” Pitts pauses. “Of course, we’ll interview you for the podcast but you don’t need to come.”

“Pitts, this is insane. I—“ you suddenly remember what else happened, too shaken up by the man to think about it. “There’s something else.”

A light tap of a horn sounds from downstairs, interrupting you. Pitts looks at you, then grabs your hand. “You can explain on the way.”

Steven Meeks got some of the highest marks in school and you never would have guessed that a boy like him would be involved in the “unusual occurrences” that he and Pitts supposedly investigated.

“Meeks, this is Y/N. Y/N, my partner in crime, Meeks.”

Meeks rolls his eyes at the introduction, shaking your hand. “This idiot didn’t drag you into this, did he?”

“Well, not really.”

Meeks shrugs, turning on his car and pulling off the curb. “So, Welton huh?”

“It’s real.” Pitts chimes in. “Just like I told you. Y/N saw it.”

Meeks looks at you in the rear view mirror, as if to confirm.

“It’s true. I was looking for my cat and I just stumbled upon it.”

“Stumbled upon it?” Meeks’ eyebrows raise.

“She saw it, Meeks.” Pitts cuts in, turning to face you. “What else did you see?”

“It’s not what I saw, it’s what I heard...” You say. “When I first went into the woods, I heard a little boy giggling.”

Meeks and even Pitts look uneasy. The story of the Russell family was told to every child in Morin Harbor. Mothers told their children to stay away from the woods, there was something lurking among the trees that would snatch them up if they got too close. When the sun was up at midday it wasn’t as scary, but with the moon shining overhead it was suddenly daunting.

“It was probably just a neighborhood kid.” Meeks breaks the thick silence that had fallen over the trio. Pitts doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s thinking.

When Meeks pulls into an empty lot, a couple of blocks away from the wood line, you let out a shaky breath. You were going back to the manor to get answers, but now you weren’t so sure you wanted them.

“This is it.” Pitts unpacks a flashlight to give you, “no going back after this.”

“I’m in.”

———

{Next part}

DPS taglist: @rctroeras @ponyboyvhs

Everything tag: @venusstarlight108 @knivestheresnothingtoit @yajairayellow @awesomefaith14 @ardentmuse @salladwinston @maddieb97222 @anchy-bananchy @staygoldponebone @unique05sstuff

[enrinkari]

Ambush

Note: YUP MORE TYRAJIN SHIT FUCK YOU.

-------------

Tyrathan was never a fan of the holiday Love is in the Air. It felt very fake and way too commercial for his liking. He participated in it, of course. His ex-wife and kids had loved the holiday, and he loved to see them happy, so he did it for them. Now, however, he was wishing the whole holiday would disappear.

"I don't be seein' why ya be actin' like this, love," Vol'jin sighed. They were in the throne room in Orgrimmar, Vol'jin sitting and Tyrathan standing far away, back turned to Vol'jin. "Ya know dese necklaces be meanin' nuthin' but a means for dese adventurers to get some of da tokens da vendor be needin'." Right as he finished saying this, a group of three female trolls came in to deliver their necklaces, giggling and blushing as they handed them to Vol'jin. One of them even blew him a kiss as they ran out, laughing at each other.

"Oh yeah, they seemed to be here just for the tokens," Tyrathan huffed. He didn't like that he felt jealous. He knew Vol'jin would never leave him, but he had also thought that about his ex-wife. "I'm going to go shoot at targets. i'll be back later." He stormed out of the building before Vol'jin could say anything, leaving the troll feeling very confused and, honestly, a little hurt.

When Vol'jin could finally get away from the adventurers a few hours later, he went immediately to the practice range. However, no one there had seen Tyrathan that day. Walking around the city, no one else had remembered seeing him. Starting to panic, Vol'jin went to their private dorm. Tyrathan wasn't there, but a note was.

Dearest Vol'jin,

I do apologize for how I acted today. This holiday just isn't a good holiday for me for various reasons. As such, I will be away on a hunt for the remainder of the holiday. Please know it has nothing to do with you, and I will return. I just need some alone time.

Yours eternally,

Tyrathan

Vol'jin felt his heart drop. Two weeks without his human? That was the longest they've been apart since they reunited after Vol'jin became Warchief. What was bothering Tyrathan so much, and why couldn't he talk to Vol'jin about it? Vol'jin flopped face down on their bed and sighed. His human was so confusing sometimes.

------------

Fwoosh.

The sound of his arrow flying through the air towards his target was always music to Tyrathan's ears. The death squeal of the basilisk that the arrow hit was like a symphony. He walked over to his kill and started to skin it. He could sell both the skin and the meat for a decent price back in Orgrimmar.

It had been a week since Tyrathan fled to be alone, and while his heart ached to be back by Vol'jin's side, he knew it was better if he was away. Being alone also gave him time to try to sort through his issues and try to convince himself that what had happened to him before would never happen again with Vol'jin.

The snapping of a branch brought him back to reality. There was nothing - and no one - in sight, which made the snapping even more suspicious. Focusing intently, he silently drew his bow and let out an arrow. It landed in the arm of a stealthed Gurubashi troll, causing him to break out of stealth and cry out in pain. Tyrathan's eyes narrowed. He was about to be ambushed. Quickly he turned around and let loose another arrow, this time into the throat of another troll. Breaking their stealth, five other trolls ran towards Tyrathan, weapons at the ready. Tyrathan quickly sent arrows their way, and a few found homes in the trolls' bodies, but it didn't slow them down. One was quicker than the rest and raised his club up high, ready to smash Tyrathan's head in. He shot an arrow at the troll's feet, causing the troll to jump over it, surprised. As the troll was in the air, Tyrathan bent down and caught the troll with his shoulder. He then flipped the troll over his back and the troll landed with a thud. Tyrathan stabbed him in the neck with an arrow, taking care of one of his attackers.

The other four, now a little wary of this hunter with close combat moves, still charged at him but as one unit now. Tyrathan gave a leap backwards, firing off four more arrows in quick succession. Three of them landed in the legs of three different trolls and they stumbled to the ground screaming. As Tyrathan landed, however, his bad leg gave out and he rolled on the ground a few feet. When he finally stopped and tried to pick himself back up, he had just enough time to look up before the last troll brought his club down on head, knocking him out cold.

----------------

It had been a restless week for Vol'jin. Sleeping without Tyrathan by his side didn't feel right, and when he could sleep, he had nightmares constantly. Either Tyrathan was leaving him for good, or Tyrathan hated him, or worst of all, Tyrathan was dead. However he had to keep a happy face on for the adventurers. Walking towards the throne room, he rubbed his face with his hands. Just one more week of this. He could do it.

"My my my, someone been missin' dey beauty sleep," he heard a voice laugh behind him. Vol'jin knew that voice. He stopped walking and quickly turned around. "Bwonsamdi, wat you be doin' 'ere?"

"Can't I check up on one of my favorite trolls?" Bwonsamdi smiled. The smile gave Vol'jin the shivers.

"I not be dyin' today, Bwonsamdi, so ya should be gettin' back to wherever ya should be."

Bwonsamdi shook his head. "Vol'jin, do ya remember our last meetin'?" How could Vol'jin forget it. He had begged Bwonsamdi to return Tyrathan to the living world after the human sacrificed himself to save Vol'jin. "What I be tellin' ya dat day?" Bwonsamdi continued. "Dat it wasn't forever, right?" Bwonsamdi gave off a low laugh. "I wish I had known that ya not be keepin' him that long or else I might 'ave said no!"

Vol'jin looked at Bwonsamdi confused for a few seconds before he understood what the Loa of Death meant. He felt his whole body grow cold and felt his heart fall into his stomach. "Tyrathan..." he whispered softly.

"Oh don't be crying now, mon," Bwonsamdi teased, walking over to Vol'jin and putting an arm around him. "Your human not be dead yet. But he's almost there, and well... I be waiting for 'im." Bwonsamdi laughed again, but then yelped when Vol'jin held him against the wall by his neck.

"WHERE BE TYRATHAN?!" Vol'jin roared at him, his eyes almost glowing red with anger. "IF YOU NOT BE TELLIN' ME AND HE ENDS UP DEAD I SWEAR I WILL PERSONALLY END YOU MYSELF BWONSAMDI!"

For the first time in maybe ever, the Loa was scared. "Okay, okay, mon! I be telling you! Just don't be hurting my face! That's my money maker!" Vol'jin slowly put Bwonsamdi down, but stayed glaring at him. "He be in the Stranglethorn Vale. Look, I'll open a gate there, but that's it. Up to ya if he dies." He raised up a death gate from the ground. Vol'jin shot one last dirty look at Bwonsamdi and went through the gate.

-----------

Tyrathan's head was pounding as he slowly came to. He heard voices talking in Zandali, and decided to keep his eyes closed so they would think he was still out cold.

<This human is too dangerous! We can't keep him alive. We need to get rid of him.>

<I've always wanted to see what human tasted like...>

<You're always hungry! Stop thinking with your stomach for once!>

<Hey, wait a minute guys. I think I recognize this one.>

<What do you mean?>

<This one is Vol'jin's pet!>

<What?! Really?!>

<Yeah! I bet we could use him to get anything we wanted out of Vol'jin!>

<Or maybe... we could lure Vol'jin into a trap and kill 'em! They we can rule the Horde for the Gurubashi!>

<Now see what happens when you think with your head not your stomach?>

<You will NOT harm Vol'jin,> Tyrathan mumbled. He had no strength to fight, but he would do what he could to prevent them from hurting his troll.

<Whoa! He can speak our language!> One of the trolls walked over to Tyrathan. <I can't believe Vol'jin's pet knows so many tricks. Maybe he also knows how to sleep.> The troll punched Tyrathan in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to pass out again.

-----

The death gate had put Vol'jin at the sight of Tyrathan's attack. He couldn't help but be a little proud that his human had gotten some of his attackers, but he knew he didn't get all of them. He growled when he noticed they were Gurubashi. He wanted to wipe them all out here and now, but he had to first focus on getting Tyrathan back. He got down on his knees and began to "pray," as Tyrathan called it. <Gonk, the great hunter Loa. Please hear my plea. Help me track down and hunt the ones who took my mate from me. Help me save him.> Almost instantly he could feel Gonk give him a boost in power. He could see the way the trolls had taken Tyrathan. He began to run in that direction, hoping he wouldn't be too late.

He found them around a campfire in some ruins. There were five of them, though one of them was still healing a wound in his arm. He looked around and saw Tyrathan, tied up and on the ground, unconscious and breathing fast. Vol'jin tried to control his rage and think of a plan, but then he saw one of the trolls kick Tyrathan in the stomach, causing blood to come out of his mouth. Vol'jin felt the anger overtake him, and he roared, running into the camp faster than a troll should, eyes red with rage.

The five trolls jumped to attention, but before they could even think about what was happening, Vol'jin threw his spear at one with such speed it went thru him and pierced his heart, killing him instantly. The one closest to the now dead troll watched his buddy fall and turned back to face Vol'jin, but Vol'jin grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground, shattering his skull. He then turned to the other three and roared again, more animal than troll.

The three slowly started to back up, too afraid to run but afraid of staying too. One of them had Tyrathan's bow and quiver, and shot an arrow at Vol'jin. The arrow hit him in the chest, but he just pulled it out. <YOU DARE USE HIS WEAPONS?! YOU DARE HURT MY MATE?!?!> Vol'jin threw the arrow back at the troll, hitting him in the eye. Vol'jin used the distraction to run and remove his spear from the first troll's corpse. As the troll pulled the arrow out of his eye, Vol'jin slashed his throat open and watched the troll quickly bleed out.

The other two decided now would be the best time to run away. Vol'jin wouldn't allow them to, however. He tackled one of them and easily ripped his head off. He threw the head at the other head, knocking him down. Before he could get up, Vol'jin was on top of his, squeezing his throat and choking him. <WHEN YOU SEE BWONSAMDI, TELL HIM HE'S NOT IN THE CLEAR YET,> Vol'jin growled as he squeezed the troll's throat tighter and tighter until the troll no longer moved. Vol'jin stood up straight and roared, ready to kill the rest of the Gurubashi.

"Vol...jin..." he heard Tyrathan call out softly and all his anger, all his strength was gone. He quickly ran over to Tyranthan and carefully picked him up. His human was still breathing fast, but at least he was breathing. "Vol'jin...I'm..."

"Hush now, mon. Save what energy ya can," Vol'jin whispered, running a hand gently down Tyrathan's face. "You're okay now. We'll get ya to a nearby camp and then get ya home and 'eal up, okay?" Tyrathan nodded his head slightly before he lost consciousness again. Vol'jin held him tight and ran to the nearest camp. He had to get Tyrathan healed soon or Bwonsamdi would be getting six souls from the Stranglethorn Vale.

----------

This didn't feel like the afterlife. If it was, the afterlife felt like a giant bed. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he wasn't dead, but in his bed in Orgrimmar. He slowly sat up, then winced in pain. His head was still killing him, along with his stomach and leg. But he was alive. He looked around the room and saw that it was covered in the necklaces from the holiday. He picked up the closest one and his eyes got wide. It was for him from Vol'jin. Looking at the others that were close to him, they were also to him from Vol'jin. He guessed that his troll had made all of them for him. He went to get up but gasped at the pain in his body.

He heard frantic footsteps running towards the door, and it swung open revealing a very worried looking Vol'jin standing there, staring at him. Before Tyrathan could say a single word, Vol'jin rushed to his size and embraced him with a hug that was so tight Tyrathan thought he was going to break in half. "Tyrathan, ya okay!" The troll buried his head in Tyrathan's neck, and Tyrathan felt tears starting to fall from Vol'jin's eyes. "I thought I be losin' ya for good dis time. I be so worried. I... I...."

Tyrathan hugged Vol'jin back, rubbing his troll's back to calm him down. "It's okay Vol'jin. I'm okay, thanks to you. Once again you saved me."

After what seemed like an eternity, they let go of each other, but Vol'jin kept a tight grip on Tyrathan's hand. "Why ya be leavin'? Why can't ya talk ta me about it? Did I do sometin' wrong?"

Tyrathan shook his head. "Of course not. I just..." He sighed. "I am afraid you are going to realize one day that you are too good for me and I'm going to lose you. I've been left once before. That plus the fact this holiday has memories attached to her and my kids, and I just was a mess I guess. I knew it would be better if I was away." He chuckled. "At least I thought it would be better."

Vol'jin pulled Tyrathan into another embrace, but was more gentle this time. "Ya shouldn't be thinkin' like that. I be not too good for ya. Ya be too good for me! But I would never, and will never, leave ya, Tyrathan." He softly gazed into Tyrathan's eyes. "You be my home. My mate. And not even da loas themselves will keep me from being with ya."

Tyrathan snuggled into his troll and sighed happily. "Oh," he said suddenly. "What is with all these necklaces?"

Vol'jin smiled. "I be wantin' to show ya how much I care about ya'. I made dem all myself. And even though dere be many, it still not be enough to show ya' how much I love ya. I just ran out of supplies."

Tyrathan gave Vol'jin a kiss, which the troll returned with a hunger. "With necklace to token conversion, I think you have enough here for a mount. What do you say?" Vol'jin didn't say anything, he just began to kiss Tyrathan all over. His human was so confusing at times, but he loved every minute of it.

[paladin-andric]

An Enemy Within

A sequel to Darkest Hour! A short story set in an alternate, grim future where the human race was nearly annihilated, the last known holdout being a small colony in a bunker deep underground. In this, we learn of the surprising fate of one of the previous characters, and more about the survivors! This bunker-colony is pretty heavily influenced by XCOM. Speaking of which...mood music!

“So that’s the plan.”

The group of officers leaned over a round table of metal, staring up at the mystifying scene above them. Floating above the table, a holographic globe of the planet sat silently, ever so slowly spinning.

They were in the command room, the heart of strategic operations in the resistance. Though humanity was relegated to a small group of survivors in this underground bunker, that didn’t leave them helpless.

The best and brightest they had to offer had invented so many useful things, both on their own and using the stolen technology from the monsters above.

The bastion of humans were extremely militarized, acting more like a special forces division rather than a colony. That was born of necessity, though.

With such low numbers, they needed as many people able to handle themselves as possible.

It had been hundreds of years since the vile sorcerer succeeded in his plot. He poisoned the very air of the world, and all who were exposed turned into hideous abominations, utterly obedient towards the dark sorcerer, who now ruled the world in an iron grip.

Those scant few who managed to seal themselves away waited. They hid and hid for generations, until technology allowed them to seal themselves in suits that could keep them safe from the elements above. Now, they carried out a guerilla campaign against the sorcerer, determined to send him and all his mindless slaves to hell.

In the most recent operation, the survivors investigated a tip of a possible other bastion of survivors, still untouched by the infectious air on the surface. On their way however, they were ambushed by the sorcerer’s minions, and none survived.

Well, except for...him.

He stood with the officers, observing the hologlobe along with them, nodding along and acting as if nothing was wrong.

The fact that he WAS one of those monsters, however, made the scene very unsettling for Albert.

The “man” was a biped with two arms, but that was where the similarities ended. He was covered head to toe in black scales, towered above the others, looked wide enough to stop a car in its tracks, had monstrous, clawed hands and feet, a long tail, and bore a terrifying reptilian visage.

He looked like any other one of those horrible beasts up above...and yet here he was, standing in the beating heart of the last holdout of the human race, somehow not being gunned down right where he stood.

Ah, but that was because he was still sane.

That’s what they had told everyone when he returned, his suit in tatters, clutching his head and groaning quietly, before he was tied down and dragged off into the medical ward, and everyone else was ushered back to their posts.

It had been over a week since that day. Apparently, he was all good now...but was he really?

As the officers all disbanded and walked off to wherever it was they were headed, the monster remained behind, still staring up at the hologlobe. The young soldier approached, causing the beast to turn its inhuman eyes toward him.

Albert felt his heart thud against his chest, half expecting the thing to surge forward and tear his heart out in one swift motion.

But he WASN’T an “it”, and he didn’t do anything of the sort.

“Ah, Albert.” the voice was unlike any the man had ever heard, deep, warbling and distorted...almost as if a demon was standing before the human, speaking to him.

It threw him for quite a loop, and he was certain he failed to hide his fear, but Albert nodded. “Err, Captain Fields, sir.”

“Please. Jacob will do.”

He couldn’t discern the look on the creature’s face. Of course he couldn’t. He could read humans, not...these things!

“Uhh...alright, Jacob.”

The reptilian beast drummed his claws against the metal table in a steady rhythm. “Is there any reason you’re here? I don’t dare imagine you came to see my good looks.” Jacob followed that up with a short, shallow laugh.

“No sir. I just, well…” he hesitated. It was a stupid question, and he was an idiot for bothering with it, but he went ahead anyway.

The soldier cleared his throat. “I was just wondering…” he leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper. “...what’s it like?”

“What do you THINK it’s like?!” Jacob countered. Even though his visage was utterly alien to him, Albert could tell from the way his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed that he was angry.

The soldier didn’t have any reply. He couldn’t think of anything to say at all.

The monstrous thing sighed and shook his head. “It’s horrible. I keep thinking this is some nightmare I’m gonna wake up from, but every morning I open my eyes, and every morning I’m still THIS,” he said, sweeping his clawed hands over himself.

Albert could almost swear the lizard-thing looked crushed as he finished. “This is hell.”

The soldier struggled to find words. “T-that’s...shit, man.”

The creature turned back to the table and resumed leaning, head lowered. He nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

The once-human’s words were nearly inaudible, he spoke them so quietly

Albert felt a pit in his gut. He really didn’t know what he was expecting, but...this was difficult to stomach. Despite how monstrous and terrifying the creature next to him looked, he could only imagine the man he once knew, looking crushed and forlorn as he stewed over his fate.

There was a lengthy period where both men stood in silence, leaning over the table and staring down at nothing in particular. After a while longer, Albert finally found his voice again.

“I was wondering something.”

“Mhm?”

“Well...from what I’ve always been told...there’s no coming back from this. Once you turn...you’re a monster, a mindless animal, a killer. No one’s ever...turned...and come back.” The soldier finally looked up and over at Jacob. “How did you do it?”

The reptilian tapped his claws against the table once more. “I’ve told this story a million times before.”

“Shit, man, I’m sorry-”

“No, no,” Jacob said sadly, “It’s...it’s fine.”

With a deep breath, the former human repeated what he’d told all the doctors and officers before.

“We got ambushed...I took a shot and went down. I lost consciousness. Dunno how long went by, but by the time I woke up, the things were gone...and everyone else was dead. I-I realized my suit got torn open from the hit, and I started hobbling back. My mask ran out of reserve air, and so I started breathing in the surface air...by the time I got back...I was already one of them.”

Albert grimaced. “Oh God…”

“I heard voices, screaming, had these urges. It was...I guess it’s the same stuff everyone else feels when they turn...but thank God, I was already back here. Nearly got plugged full of holes, but I surrendered and by some miracle, they took me in instead of shooting me.”

“Voices? Urges?”

“The dark one’s corruption,” Jacob answered, “Doctors said the infection shatters your mind, and rebuilds you into a beast that answers only to him. I couldn’t have resisted much longer. If we were any further away when that happened...they’d know our location by now. If I hadn’t blown my brains out before the infection broke me, anyway.”

“Lord in heaven…”

The beast nodded. “I still hear them, you know. They’re quieter now, but I still hear the voices. Still have those insane thoughts. Still feel those...urges.”

Jacob noticed that those words had caused Albert to take a step back, eying him fearfully. He held a hand out and shook his head. “T-there’s nothing to worry about! They’re just...little thoughts now. It’s easy to suppress.”

“I-I just…”

“If I was a threat, would the doctors have let me go?”

The soldier shrugged. “I guess not…”

“Albert, look. I know it’s...hard to believe, but…”

“...you’re still you,” the soldier finished.

The way the lizard winced was quite extreme. “W-well...not exactly.”

Albert’s stomach churned, dread settling over him again. “B-but I thought you…”

Jacob shook his head. “I told you, they’re still there. Faint, but there...and the only reason I haven’t become...feral yet…”

The reptilian dug into a pouch on his belt, pulling out an orange, transparent bottle with a white cap.

“...are these.”

Jacob raised a brow. “Pills?”

“Meds, yeah. They’re used to help people with schizophrenia.”

Albert was more confused than scared now, and Jacob could tell. The lizard shrugged, the pills inside the bottle loudly shaking as he did so. “Docs figured since this infection causes so many of the same symptoms, they might as well try it...and it seems like it’s actually working.”

“Shit, man. You lucked out.”

“You can say that again,” the beast agreed, tucking the bottle away in his pouch again, “Still, it’s not perfect.”

“What do you mean? Seems as good as it could be.”

“I mean, it is, kinda...but still. The boys in the lab can only make these so quickly, and uhh, can only grow the ingredients so quickly. Plus...it’s not like I have a cold. I’m not just taking these and waiting for it to go away. It’s not a cure, Albert...it’s a treatment. Plus, if anyone else gets infected like this, and they can’t make enough meds for us in time...”

“...we’re in deep trouble,” Albert finished knowingly. Jacob nodded.

“That’s right.”

The soldier sighed. “Well, at least you’re okay for now. Glad you’re back.”

“Thanks, I am too. I just wish Irene…”

“I know,” Albert answered with a deep frown, “We were friends, too.”

Jacob looked down, that same pained expression from before clearly visible. Albert crossed his arms.

“Hey, if you ever need someone to talk to...I’ll be all ears, alright?”

The transformed beast’s frown slowly turned into a grin, which was rather terrifying on his serpentine visage. “Thanks. That’s...nice to hear. I’ll have to take you up on that. It’s been pretty lonely in the medical wards.”

“I can’t imagine. Sitting in a bed alone all day…”

“Yeah, it really sucked. Thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it.”

With that, the pair smiled and nodded at one another before the soldier turned and began to walk away.

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Jacob called out.

“Albert!”

The soldier quickly stopped and looked back. “Yeah?”

Jacob approached, appearing...conflicted? Albert was still getting a handle on how the former human’s face worked.

The serpent put a hand on the man’s shoulder, claws hanging over and onto his back. “Listen. I’d rather die than let anyone here get hurt.”

The soldier’s face warped into one of confusion. “Err...yeah?”

“Look. If what I said comes true...if they run out of meds...if I lose it...if I stop being me…” the lizard furrowed his nonexistent brows and gave the man serious look. “Promise me you’ll take care of it. Don’t hesitate. Alright?”

Albert swallowed hard, unwanted thoughts running through his head of his friend going berserk and tearing him in half. “Ah hell Jacob...I can’t make a promise like that.”

The reptilian appeared distressed by that response. “Albert...please…”

“I’m just saying...I don’t know if I’ll be able to.”

“But if it happens-”

“It WON’T happen,” Albert said firmly, his own expression now one of serious resolve, “You’ll make it though this, alright?”

The beast’s face softened as he stared back at his friend, hand still on his shoulder.

“...you’re a good man. Fine. If you can’t promise to put me down, and I can’t promise not to lose it...let’s both just try our best, alright?”

“Deal.”

The large creature slowly stepped back, wearing what appeared to be a smile. “Thanks, Albert. Thank you. Take care of yourself.”

“You, too.”

Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadhorner,  @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @candy687, @fierywords, @shewrites-sometimes

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 39]

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

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

I only have a bit of stuff to finish up, so I’m not sure how long this will go.

Chapter 15

Patton strolled up to the doors to the royal wing, his arms crossed casually around his middle.

Kalani raised an eyebrow as he approached and gave her the most innocent expression he could. “Whatcha got there, Pat?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he asked, as his sweater squirmed. “What do you mean?”

She considered him for a moment. “Well, I see nothing suspicious here,” she said. “Do you Owen?”

“Nothing,” he replied without hesitation.

Patton grinned at them both.

Kalani leaned in like she was going to tell him a secret. “Who is it?”

Patton made a show of glanced around like he was hiding it from anyone passing by. Then he shifted around to pull up just the bottom of his sweater.

 A small black paw reached out from the depths of his sweater and swatted at the air.

“Ah, I see,” Kalani said, reaching out to touch the little paw. “Hello, Mittens.”

Patton giggled as Owen poked the cat’s stomach gently through the sweater, making her wiggle a bit and try to bite him.

“Well,” Patton said. “I better be off with my totally normal sweater.”

Kalani nodded and stepped to the side, and Patton was free to head down the hallway to Logan’s room. Patton knocked on the door with their new extra secret knock and Logan all but ripped open the door. “I’m late. I have to go,” he said, darting past Patton.

 Patton smiled, happy that his plan to be running a little late to come watch Virgil had worked so well, even though he felt a little bit guilty about it. He hoped Logan wasn’t late to his meeting, but he also knew that if Logan had noticed Mittens, he wouldn’t have let her into the room.

Virgil was already out of the closet, sitting on one of the chairs. Patton came in and smiled at him. Unlike Logan, Virgil’s attention was immediately drawn to the oddly shaped lump in Patton’s sweater.

“You’re not very good at hiding things,” Virgil said.

 “It worked on Logan,” Patton defended himself.

“Logan was about to rocket into space if you didn’t show up in 5 seconds,” Virgil pointed out. Patton just shrugged, and Virgil tilted his head. “What do you have?”

Patton grinned wide and carefully pulled Mittens out of his sweater. She did not resist this maneuver at all, simply purring. He held her up for Virgil to see. “Ta da!”

“A cat?” Virgil said.

“This is Mittens,” Patton said. He then turned to Mittens. “Mittens, this is Virgil. I thought I’d introduce the two of you!”

Virgil blinked at the cat. Mittens blinked back. Patton thought maybe he should have let them sniff each other from under a door before doing this.

 He didn’t need to worry though, as Mittens started purring after a moment. “You can pet her,” Patton offered. Virgil looked up at him. “Just…” he said.

“She likes chin scratchies!” Patton prompted.

Virgil reached out a hand to scratch under her chin and that was the end of it. Mittens stretched out her chin happy to get the attention and Virgil’s eyes widened at how soft her fur was. It was a work of minutes before Virgil was sitting down on the floor and Mittens was happily kneading his thighs and spinning around in circles to make sure he pet every inch of her.

“I did not understand why people like cats,” Virgil commented. “All I’ve seen of cats is people coming back with bloody scratches from trying to pet them, so I never even tried.”

“Well,” Patton said. “Cats are just like people. If you’re nice to them, they’re more likely to be nice to you.”

 Virgil’s hand paused briefly on the cat’s head, but then continued with the petting a moment later. Patton wondered what he was thinking about, but didn’t press.

“She seems to like you,” Patton said.

“Don’t know why.”

“Hey, don’t be mean.” Patton scolded.

Virgil hands jerked away from the cat he’d been petting and then were forced abruptly to his side in reaction. Mittens meowed, seemed very unhappy with the jostling as well as the sudden lack of petting.

“Sorry,” Virgil said, eyes wide. “What did I do wrong. I didn’t mean to be mean to her.”

It took Patton a moment to sus out what he was talking about and felt a pang in his chest when he did. “Oh, no honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I meant don’t be mean to yourself.”

 Virgil gave him a confused look. Mittens bumped her head against his chin and with a blink, he cautiously went back to petting her.

“Of course, she likes you sweetie, you’re a good boy.”

“I came here to kill the king. I’ve killed before.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I don’t think you ever wanted to,” he said. Virgil seemed to grow very interested in mitten’s ears. Patton scooted over so he was sitting beside him and carefully brought a hand up to touch the top of his head. Virgil sort of curled into him, pressing his face against Patton’s shoulder, but continuing to pet the cat.

 “It’s fine. You’re going to be okay now,” Patton said softly.

Virgil shook his head against Patton’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Patton insisted. “You’ll be okay. You won’t have to go back.”

Virgil didn’t respond for a long moment. “You can’t keep me in Logan’s closet forever,” he said softly. “When his dad comes back, you’re going to have to turn me in.”

Well, that was true, but… “It’ll be okay. No one will hurt you.”

“The kings would be assassin?” Virgil asked skeptically.

“Thomas is nice. He’ll understand.”

“He’s nice to you. He’s nice to Logan. Maybe he’s even nice to the people he rules over, but what am I? An enemy assassin who would have slit his throat if I hadn’t gotten the wrong room.”

 It…it did sound bad when he put it like that, but, but… “Thomas will understand,” he promised, hugging him tight. “He will, and we’ll keep you safe and I’ll introduce you to every single cat in the castle. In fact, we’ll get you a cat to keep as a pet if you want and he or she can snuggle you as much as you want. I’ll show you all around the gardens and introduce you to Mama and help you figure out what your favorite type of cookie is. You’ll never have to hurt anyone again and no one will ever hurt you again.”

 Virgil drew away a bit and shot him a half smile. He clearly didn’t believe him, and it made Patton’s stomach twist a bit. Patton knew. He knew Thomas would be nice. There was no way he’d hurt Virgil. Virgil was just a kid and with Logan and Patton on his side, there was no way anything bad would happen to him. He could see it from Virgil’s perspective though.

“I like her feet,” Virgil said, touching Mittens’ little black paw that contrasted her otherwise white coat. Mittens purred and began kneading his legs again with those paws. “I’m guessing that’s why she’s named Mittens?”

“Yeah,” said Patton softly. “‘Cause she looks like she’s wearing mittens.” Virgil leaned forward to kiss her little head and that little action made Patton’s heart ache for him. He deserved so many kitten kisses. So many.

Patton was determined to make sure he got them.

  Chapter 16

“Well done,” Logan complimented when Virgil looked up at him for approval. It was the first time Virgil was trying to make the protection charms without Logan’s instructions. Logan was of course still in the room in case he had questions and the boy had a written set of instructions next to him, but for the most part Virgil was doing it on his own.

“Now,” Virgil said squinting down at the paper next to him, “we wait for 35 minutes.”

“Fifty actually,” Logan corrected offhand, focused on his own potion.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Virgil said. He grabbed the timer and set it for the appropriate time.

 Then, he stepped away from Logan’s nontoxic potion station. Logan saw him edge a bit closer to peak at what Logan was working on, though he was careful to maintain a distance. Logan wasn’t sure if this was because he’d been warned of the possible harmful substances Logan sometimes used at his experiment table or because he was worried Logan might not want him to approach.

Logan looked up at him. “You can come closer. Nothing here is very dangerous.”

Virgil nodded and walked over to peer at the boiling pot. “What are you making?” he asked.

“I am once again attempting to invent a potion that will reliably remove cat hair from surfaces,” Logan said, glancing over at Patton.

 Patton looked up from the bracelet he was making and stuck his tongue out at Logan.

“I can never seem to find an adequate solution,” Logan said.

“The solution is to accept all parts of kitty love!” Patton insisted.

“Or maybe the solution is to exile you from my room for the rest of time,” Logan muttered. Patton chose to ignore him and go back to working on the bracelet.

“Do you want any help?” Virgil offered Logan.

Logan smiled at him. “I’m actually almost finished with this step and there isn’t much left to do but thank you.”

Virgil nodded. “Oh, okay,” he said. He shifted back and forth a few times.

 “You’re well on your way to mastering this potion,” Logan said. “I was thinking that next I could teach you how to make a tracking charm. I marked a passage about it in the book on that shelf.” He gestured to one near the station Virgil had been working at. “Why don’t you go ahead and read that while you wait?”

“The…” Virgil said. “The green book?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “I left a bookmark in the correct page.”

“Um… yeah, sure. I’ll go… read that.”

Logan nodded and turned back to put the finishing touches on his own potion as Virgil walked away.

 Logan finished up his potion up after a few minutes and covered it to let it simmer. He looked over to see that Patton had flopped onto his back, still working on the bracelet and Virgil had sat near to him with the book on his lap open. Logan walked over to them.

“What do you think?” Logan asked.

Virgil glanced up at him. “Erm,” he said. “Looks good.”

“Which option do you like better?”

“…The second one.”

“Really?” Logan asked, surprised.

“Uh… yes?”

“I’m surprised,” Logan commented. “I figured you would shy away from the ones that required a blood sacrifice.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “I… didn’t notice that. I would like to not do that one, please.”

“You didn’t notice?” Logan asked. “Half of the entire first page is dedicated to a discussion of it.”

There was a beat of awkward silence.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “Can you read the first paragraph on that page?”

 He grimaced.

“You can’t read?!”

“Logan, tone,” Patton snapped when Virgil flinched.

Logan took a breath. “I am not upset that you cannot read, but what have you been doing for the past week when I have given you written instructions for the protection charm potion?”

“Not… read it.”

“How have you been making the potion?” Logan asked.

“I just remember the steps, and if I’m not sure I ask. You’re usually distracted enough that you barely notice.”

“If I had known this, we would have done a completely auditory explanation.”

“Sorry.”

Logan sighed. “You didn’t need to pretend, Virgil.”

 Virgil blinked up at him. “Sorry.”

Logan just shook his head. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for. In fact, you are the one who is owed apologies from many people in your life for a multitude of reasons.” He knelt down to take the book from him. “Here,” he said. “For now, I will read this passage to you while we wait for the potions to finish brewing. Later we can talk about changing my lesson plans in reference to the potions as well as adding reading lessons into your schedule.”

“You… want to teach me how to read?” Virgil asked.

 “If you are willing,” Logan replied. “It’s a useful skill to have and opens up many doors.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it,” Virgil said with a frown.

“If you can memorize an entire potion recipe from start to finish with inadequate vocal instructions, I’m sure you can learn the alphabet perfectly well.”

“Okay,” he replied sounding a bit doubtful.

“And once we get you to an appropriate level, I’ll let you read a book about stars I enjoyed in my youth.” He seemed pleased with that prospect, and Logan smiled at him. “For now though, let’s read this together.”

 “Okay,” Virgil said. Logan opened the book in his lap and started to read. He noticed that Virgil was leaning over to look at the page despite the fact that he couldn’t read it, and so he began to point to the words as he read. His reactions to the words on the page were honestly quite funny when Logan caught them. His nose would scrunch up in confusion every time he thought an instruction nonsensical, and he’d squint his eyes at the words as though willing the sounds and letters to connect in his head. Logan wouldn’t be surprised with his memory if he had parts of it memorized by the end.

26422

After a few minutes of reading, a light weight descended on Logan’s shoulder. Virgil had settled his chin on Logan’s shoulder to peer at the words. Logan did his best not to draw attention to this fact and shot a glare at Patton when he clearly noticed, sitting up to smile widely at them. Luckily the boy was sensible enough not to squeal as he oh so clearly wanted to. Logan pointed out a picture while explaining what the caption said and then giving a personal antecedent. Virgil touched the page curiously and asked a question about the story before laying his head back down on Logan’s shoulder. They continued in this way until the potion was finished.

  Chapter 17

Virgil’s suspicion was growing. Logan and Patton seemed to have something planned. Luckily, whatever it was didn’t seem to be malicious, at least, Virgil hoped it wasn’t. He truly didn’t think that Patton had it in him to be so clearly excited about anything cruel. He also didn’t think Logan had it in him to be cruel, he was just was better at masking his excitement.

“What?” Logan asked innocently when Virgil gave him a pointed look the second Patton left to do ‘something’. Virgil would almost believe he truly wasn’t planning anything if it wasn’t for the way his lips twitched just a bit at the corners. Virgil glared harder.

 Logan dared to laugh lightly at the expression on his face. “Come here,” he requested. “Patton wanted me to make you pick out a book for him to read to you tonight since, I quote ‘You’ve gotten to read him all sorts of stories the last few days.’ I attempted to explain that it was not purely for fun, but he insisted.”

Virgil grumbled, but wandered over to look over at the books laid out on Logan’s bed, settling his chin on Logan’s shoulder. “What do they say?” he asked.

Logan pointed to each in turn. “Five Dragons and a Flame. The End of May. A Stone in the Meadow. Or you can continue to read The Never-ending Garden.”

 “I want to finish The Never-Ending Garden,” Virgil decided.

“Good choice.”

“Now will you tell me what you’re doing?” Virgil asked.

Logan just chuckled. Honestly, it was like he didn’t know that he had an assassin right next to his carotid artery. “Why do you think something is happened?”

“Patton’s a shit liar.”

“Be careful,” Logan said. “I might just have to tell him you said that.”

“Then I’ll tell him what you said when you accidently dropped the lavender into that potion,” Virgil threatened back.

“Hmm,” Logan said. “Truce?”

“On that,” Virgil agreed, “but you still need to tell me what’s going on.”

 “It is a surprise. A nice surprise,” Logan informed him. He looked at Virgil’s face. “Don’t pout at me.”

Virgil had not been aware that what he was doing was pouting, but he did whatever it was harder.

“Patton would murder me,” Logan claimed, “but I suggest you try that on him the next time you have a chance. You will certainly get whatever you want.”

Virgil sighed and gave up, figuring he’d learn whatever the surprise was soon enough. He chose to flop down on top of the pile of pillows on the floor that had been laid out already. It was his fourth ever slumber party and the first had only been a week ago. He did not know much about slumber parties, but that felt like a lot.

 Goodness, it had already been two weeks. He looked up at the ceiling. He felt safe here. He felt like he didn’t need to watch Logan’s every move as he organized things in his room, but it wasn’t going to last, was it? The king was set to be back in a week. Virgil needed to actually attempt to escape soon. He hated that fact. He didn’t want to leave, and he certainly didn’t want to go back. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d figure something else out, but no mater what, he did have to escape, and soon. He looked over at Logan who was slotting the books Virgil hadn’t picked back into place on the bookshelf. Not tonight.

 There was a knock on the door in a familiar pattern, and Logan walked over to open it for Patton. Virgil sat up to shoot a confused look at the giant thing that Patton rolled in.

“Ta da!” Patton said excitedly.

Virgil blinked at him.

“It’s food,” Logan explained.

Virgil perked up immediately. That must be a lot of food if he needed that to carry it.

“I know you haven’t gotten a chance to try a lot of different foods, so I asked Mama if I could use the kitchen earlier today and made a bunch of different type of food samples for you to try.”

 That sounded like literally the best idea in the universe. These people were very good at surprises and Virgil would not question them again ever for the rest of his life (or, well, the next couple of days he was around them before he tried to escape and either managed it or died a bloody and painful death).

Patton seemed to feed off of Virgil’s excitement, practically vibrating himself as he gestured to different parts of the cart. “We have a bunch of types of cheese and crackers, mini sandwiches, different smoked meats, six types of pasta, and every leftover I could find on this shelf. On this shelf, we have things with hot sauce, things with spicy dry rubs, curries, and things with a lot of peppers. I’ve ordered them by spiciness level so we can what you can handle, and we’ll only go as far as you want. Then this shelf is a bunch of types of cookies, mini cakes, pies, and ice cream!”

 “We are not starting with the sweets,” Logan said firmly.

“But Lo!” Patton whined.

“We do not want to make him sick, do we?” Logan asked.

Patton pouted. Virgil honestly had no preference. All food was good food in his experience.

“Fine,” Patton said. “We’ll start with the cheese.”

They had him sit back in the center of the blanket pile and handed him little portions of things. Some of the cheese tasted weird at first and Patton would giggle at the faces of surprise he made, but Virgil managed to if not like, then tolerate almost all of them.

 Then came the different sandwiches, some hot and some cold and all of the pasta and leftovers. Virgil eyed the plate of fettuccine alfredo long after they had moved on.

“You can have some more at the end if you still have room,” Logan promised with a fond smile. Virgil frowned at him. “You want to try all of the food, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can’t eat an entire plate of fettucine alfredo.”

“Maybe you can’t,” Virgil said darkly.

Logan just rolled his eyes and passed him another plate.

Eventually they moved on to the next shelf full of what was deemed ‘spicy food.’

 “Part of this is figuring out what level of spiciness you can handle,” Patton said. “So, tell us when it gets to be a bit too much and we’ll move on two the deserts. Also, milk helps wash the spicy stuff that so drink some if you need to!”

Virgil nodded and accepted the first dish on that rack.

Virgil, it turned out, liked what they called “spicy” food even though some of it made his nose run a little bit. It was kind of fun to eat them, honestly. Some of them hurt a tiny bit, but they also tasted really good. It was strange.

“I am impressed and horrified,” Logan said when he finished that shelf. “Do you… have nerve endings in your mouth?”

 Virgil shrugged. “Well,” Patton said, sounding pleased. “Now it’s time for the best part! Assuming you still have room.” Virgil nodded immediately and Patton handed him a plate he’d covered with chunks of cookies he’d torn off. He ate every single one of those and then went through the rest of the deserts. Everything was fantastic and he’d like to investigate a few of the cakes once more, but…

He pointed insistently at the fettuccine alfredo.

Logan shook his head but handed it over. “How many stomachs do you have?”

Virgil did not care to respond, choosing instead to shove his mouth full of pasta.

 When he was done with that, he laid back to relax and digest the food, feeling very content. Logan and Patton had also eaten a bit of the different dishes and were finishing up themselves.

“You good there?” Patton asked after a moment of Virgil just laying with his eyes closed.

Virgil nodded.

“Did you like your surprise?”

“Uh huh.”

“It seems he will not be doing any of the other planned activities for a little while at least,” Logan said. “So now might be a good time for you two to read,” he suggested. “I’ll get the rest of the food stored in case we want something more later.”

 “Okay,” Patton agreed. Virgil didn’t open his eyes, but felt Patton settle next to him. Virgil rolled slightly, so his head rested against the side of Patton’s leg. A hand touched softly down on the top of Virgil’s head and Virgil heard a page flip. “So, let’s see. I’m not sure when exactly you fell asleep last time, but how about we start at the Troll Bridge?”

Virgil hummed his ascent.

“Okay,” Patton agreed as he started to read. “‘Melly stepped onto the bridge backwards while sticking her tongue out at Al, but Lydia’s eyes widened as a large looming figure stepped up behind her….’” Virgil listened happily to him read about the four children. He liked this book. He hoped they managed to finish reading it before Virgil had to go.

  Chapter 18

They made it all the way to the big blowout between Al and Melly where Melly got mad and left the group to their fate in the magical garden by the time Virgil awakened completely from his food coma (he’d never actually fallen asleep, or at least he always responded when Patton asked) and squirmed around for a bit before sitting up.

Logan hadn’t been particularly interested in the story he’d heard many times before and was reading a book of his own on Patton’s other side, but he put a bookmark in his book when Virgil sat.

“Want to take a break from reading?” Patton asked. “We can do a bit more later, but we have more than just food and books planned for tonight.

 “Okay,” Virgil agreed easily.

“Great!” Patton said clapping his hands. “We’re going to introduce you to the most fun sleepover party event ever!”

Virgil tilted his head.

“Dress up!” Patton said. “Also make-overs. We’ll do you first and then we’ll help you learn how to help pick out other people’s outfits and make-up. If you want to, of course.”

“Sure,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“Yay!” Patton hopped to his feet. “You stay here. Lo and I will get everything ready.”

He pulled Logan to his feet and over to the chair that was the perfect height for doing make-up.

 They set up what they’d need for make-up and then Patton instructed Logan to grab the clothes of his they usually used for this sort of thing out the closet that Virgil wasn’t set up in while he grabbed the pieces he himself had brought upstairs and strew them over the bed so they could see anything.

Smiling happily, Patton looked over at Virgil who had stood up in the giant pile of pillows and blankets to watch him with intense eyes. He looked like he was memorizing every action Patton took as though expecting a test at the end. He was so adorable. A rush of affection and a touch of mischief hit him suddenly.

 “Hey Virgil,” Patton said. Virgil looked over at him. “Can I tackle hug you into that pile of pillows?”

“Tackle hug?” he asked.

“I run over and hug you so hard that we fall into the blankets. I do it to Logan all the time without warning, but I didn’t want to confuse you.”

Virgil considered the offer for a couple of seconds. “Okay,” he finally decided.

“Great!” Patton did a little hop before launching himself across the room. He slammed into Virgil, who apparently had very good balanced because they didn’t immediately fall backwards, but then he seemed to remember that he was supposed to let Patton slam him into the pillows, and so he fell back on his own power.

 Patton giggled when they hit the ground and drew back to look at his face. “I got you!” He leant forward to kiss him on the nose. “Oh wait! I should let you fight back.” He propped himself up on one arm and held out the other hand. “Pinkie promise not to hurt anyone if I let you use the 3rd setting again?”

“Pinkie promise,” he agreed with a grin, linking their pinkies.

“Great!” Without hesitation, Patton did the hand motion to allow the restraints to be in the third setting.

Patton was on his back almost instantly, but he didn’t even have a chance to think about worrying before Virgil pressed a kiss to his nose in a mirror of what Patton had done a moment before. “I got you,” he said proudly.

 “So, you do,” Patton agreed with a laugh. He reached up on of his hands to card it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil leaned into the touch and then practically melted on top of him. “Virgil,” Patton laughed. “It isn’t nap time.”

He grumbled something unintelligible into Patton’s neck making Patton giggle more.

“Sweetie, please.”

Thankfully Logan saved him from the unrelenting cuddling by poking Virgil in the side. “I have finished preparing the stations for the makeover and dress up. You need to get up now.”

Virgil made a noise that sounded like a growl, but he did roll off of Patton.

 Patton hopped to his feet and helped Virgil up before pulling him over to the piles of clothes. “We pick the outfit first, but you don’t put it on. Then, we do your make-up and hair based on it. Then, we get you dressed and do touch ups. Okay? Pick anything you want.”

Virgil looked over the options, eyes going a bit wide. “It…” he said. “It all looks really fancy and expensive. Are you sure you want me to touch any of it?”

“We wouldn’t be offering anything we didn’t want you to touch,” Logan said gently. “In fact, I insist you touch all of it. Beyond just appearance, making sure the texture of the fabric is agreeable is a large part of this activity.”

 Patton picked up one of the pieces of fabric he knew was very soft and offered it to him. He touched it with careful fingers, his eyes lighting up at the feel of it. They had to continue nudging him into feeling the different fabrics, and he hesitated when they asked him to pick his favorite at the end, but eventually he shyly pointed at a dark purple dress.

Patton clapped. “Great! Ooo, I already have some ideas for make-up that will go with that.”

Virgil let Patton pull him over to the chair they’d set up and settled down on it.

29009

Patton hummed. “I think silver and purple make-up mostly?” he said.

Logan nodded and they grabbed a few things from the make-up kit. Logan let Patton do most of the make-up as he tended to be better at the more creative parts, but Logan was the one who gave him the fancy winged eye liner with purple sparkles because he was really good at them.

“You look fantastic!” Patton squealed when they were done. He held up a hand mirror for Virgil who studied himself in it for a long few moments. “Do you like it?”

“It’s really nice,” Virgil confirmed. Patton smiled and hugged him.

“Next hair. We have a lot of accessories. I’ll let you pick from the purple ones.”

 He and Logan sorted through the jewelry box full of different hair accessories for the royal family and ended up finding three purple ones. Patton hesitated a bit over one of them, but Logan picked it up and set it in front of Virgil for him.

“Your choice from these three,” he said.

One was a purple feather with little hooks to braid into hair, one was a smattering of purple and silver stars that would weave through the back of someone’s hair, and the last was a string of silver leaves with purple tips that would wrap up the back of a person’s head from a bun.

Virgil thought for a moment and then pointed to the one made of leaves.

 Patton glanced at Logan who took the hairpiece. “I’ll do your hair right for that one,” he said. “I know how it fits.”

He grabbed the brush and carefully ran it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil seemed to like the attention, leaning into the touch, and a smile flickered over Logan’s face. Logan started gathering the hair together to make the low bun that would be the base of hair arrangement. Patton honestly did not expect him to speak, but then he did as he started to secure the piece with pins.

“This was my Pa’s favorite hairpiece,” Logan said. “Not the father you came here for, but my other one. He died when I was six.”

Virgil went shock still. “I don’t have to...”

“I wouldn’t have let it be offered if I wasn’t okay with you using it,” Logan said.

 Virgil didn’t move as he finished securing the hairpiece. “There,” Logan said when he was done. He picked up the hand mirror and positioned it so Virgil could see. “It suits you.”

“I…” Virgil said. His eyes were wide, and he clearly didn’t know what to say.

“Now,” Logan said. “I believe there are some other pieces of jewelry that would match this very well in the other room. I…” he turned away. “If you will excuse me.”

He turned away and exited through his bedroom door into the hallway. Patton watched him go and then turned to Virgil. “I’m going to go make sure he’s okay, okay?” Patton asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong, there’s just a lot of emotions.”

“I can take it out…” Virgil said.

“No,” Patton said. “I think he likes that you’re wearing it.” Virgil bit his lip. “He never really moved on,” Patton felt inclined to say. “This is… a lot for him, but I think it’s good too.” He leaned forward to kiss the top of his head, being careful not to mess up his artfully done hair. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned to follow Logan out of the room.

  Chapter 19

Thomas sighed in relief as the door to the royal wing finally came into sight. He was exhausted from his journey to Lamir for many reasons. Beyond just the physically taxing journey, he’d also had to deal with the emotions of loosing someone he had thought of as a friend while also trying to help her young daughter who had just had the crown thrust upon her.

Now he just wanted to see his own child and curl up into bed. He smiled at Owen and Kalani as he approached. “Is Logan here?” he asked.

Owen nodded. “The prince and his royal advisor are having a slumber party.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course, they are,” he said.

 He said goodnight to the two guard as they’d be getting off duty soon even if he did manage to drag himself out of his room again tonight and walked past them into the hall.

He walked past the room where they kept the jewels, though was unsurprised to see that the room was unlatched as Patton loved playing around with the different jewelry and had probably left it open when he grabbed them. He was however surprised when his son’s room’s door was thrown open, as Logan usually couldn’t stand for the thing to be open with or without him in it.

 Thomas didn’t think much of it however, and simply walked over to look inside. He was surprised when he didn’t see his son or Patton and instead saw that the only person in the room was a young boy that Thomas did not recognize. He was seated in one of Logan’s chairs and had his head tilted looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed to be trying to get a look at the ornament on the back of his head, and Thomas felt his heart seize a little bit when he recognized the hairpin.

He hadn’t recovered from that gut punch when the boy’s eyes drifted and met his in the mirror. There were a couple of long seconds where the two of them stared at each other in silence.

“Hello?” Thomas finally managed to get out.

Panic. There was suddenly horribly intense panic in the child’s eyes, the likes of which Thomas had never seen before. Thomas could only blink dumbly as he hopped to his feet like his seat was suddenly made of hot coals and then threw himself across the room to the opposite side from Thomas.

He looked around himself, back to the wall and considered Thomas with wildly spooked eyes. Clearly, he realized that he was pinned in Logan’s room by Thomas being in the door.

The boy dropped suddenly and disappeared under Logan’s bed.

 “Uh,” Thomas said, confused and shocked and still a bit in pain from seeing that piece of jewelry in use. He crossed slowly over to the bed and bent down to look under it, moving the bed skirt slightly to the side. He saw a small shaking blob curled up into itself under the bed. “Um, hi,” he said softly.

The blob did not respond except to continue shaking.

Thomas frowned and settled himself onto the floor. “It’s okay,” he said softly. Had he been here stealing things? Thomas had to wonder as he wasn’t sure why someone here for legitimate reasons would be acting so terrified of being caught. Though, that posed the question of how he’d gotten past the guards, and why Logan hadn’t noticed him. “I’m not mad,” Thomas said. “You’re fine.”

The boy looked up briefly from his knees looking terrified. Thomas tried to smile at him gently, but that just made him hunch into himself more, his breathes coming faster. That wasn’t good.

“No, shh,” Thomas said softly. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He did not seem to believe him, and Thomas winced. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave him here but trying to talk him down himself didn’t seem to be working.

Luckily, a familiar voice spoke from behind him then. “Dad?” Logan asked.

Thomas looked back at him. Both Logan and Patton were standing at the door, a couple of pieces of jewelry in their hands. They seemed very surprised to see him.

“You… seem to have a guest,” Thomas informed them.

 “I…” Logan said, beginning to edge into the room like he was expecting something to blow up at any moment. “Yes.” He got to Thomas and squeezed himself between him and the bed, putting a physical barrier between Thomas and the boy. Confused, Thomas took a couple of steps away without challenge. “That,” Logan glanced behind him. Patton had moved to the opposite side of the bed from Logan and Thomas and had gotten to his knees to look under it. “That is Virgil.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Virgil?” he asked.

“He’s… new to the castle,” Logan explained. Patton started speaking softly the boy, but Thomas could not make anything he said out. “Patton and I… invited him to a sleepover.”

“The guards didn’t mention anything,” Thomas said, sure that they would have warned him if there was a stranger in the royal wing.

“Uh, well, Virgil is… shy and we didn’t think you’d be back for another week. So, we snuck him past them.”

“Shy?” Thomas asked doubtfully. That was a lot more than shy.

“Particularly of adults,” Logan said.

Thomas took a moment to let that sink in. “Oh.” He was… scared of adults. Thomas could imagine many reasons why that might be the case and none of them set well. “I see.”

“Hey, no, sweetie, stop that,” Patton said, sounding distressed. Patton had managed to draw Virgil out from underneath the bed, though they were both still mostly hidden behind it and Thomas had no question in his mind that if he went to step towards them, Virgil would be back underneath it in a moment. Currently the boy seemed to be clawing at his own head. “No, baby shh,” Patton said, trying to stop him from tearing the pinned in hairpiece out, Thomas realized. “I’ll get it out,” Patton promised him. “Just calm down and let me do it.” He sounded close to tears, and Thomas couldn’t particularly blame him with the way the boy was acting. “You’re hurting yourself, baby.”

He must know, Thomas realized. If Logan had known he was here, then he must have allowed him to use that hairpiece. He’d probably even told Virgil that it belonged to his dead father. Now he was probably terrified that Thomas would be mad at him for touching it, especially when he’d come in to find Virgil alone without Logan to explain.

Patton managed to get all the pins undone and placed the piece delicately on the bed before wrapping himself protectively around the boy and hushing him.

Logan was looking back at them as well. He looked between the puddle of upset on the floor and Thomas. “Could…” he said. “Could I maybe come and see you in a few minutes, Dad?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. “Of course, I’ll go wait in my room. Take as much time as you need.”

He was careful to move slowly as he stepped towards the door, so the poor thing didn’t notice him move and mistake it for him approaching. He closed Logan’s bedroom door softly behind him feeling even more drained than he’d been before as well as anxious and a bit sickened. He went to his own bedroom to wait for Logan.

  Chapter 20

Logan let out a slow breath as his father closed the door behind him. That could have been very, very bad. He turned his attention to Virgil and Patton. Patton had curled himself around Virgil as much as physically possible and had tucked the boy’s head under his chin.

Logan slowly rounded the bed and knelt in front of them. “It’s alright,” Logan said, cautiously moving to put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil didn’t pull away. “I asked him to leave. It’s alright.”

Virgil tilted his head slightly too look at him. Logan rubbed a circle into his back as he slowly got control of his breath.

 Logan smiled softly at him and reached out to touch his cheek with a gentle hand. “You… didn’t hurt him. You didn’t even try to hurt him.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Why not?” Logan asked curiously. “It was a perfect opportunity.”

“Promised Patton,” Virgil mumbled, and the idea that perhaps the thing that had saved his father’s life was a pinky promise just about gave Logan a migraine, but then Virgil ducked his head. “And it would make you sad.”

“I see,” Logan said, heart in his throat.

Virgil kept looking towards the floor, his eyes starting to fill with tears again. “Are you going to turn me in now?”

 He was shaking and barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. Logan knew of course that no one would hurt him here if he turned him in to his father and the guards, but he also knew that Virgil would be terrified if he did so. He was already terrified. Logan didn’t want to know what he thought the fate Logan would be condemning him to.

“No,” Logan said before he could even truly think it through. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked.

“Well, there wouldn’t really be a point, would there?” Logan asked. “The reason we planned to turn you when father got back in is because you posed a danger to him, but you have just demonstrated that is no longer an issue.”

 “Really?” Virgil asked, sniffling a bit and Logan saw Patton’s arms tighten even more around him.

“We will have to figure out a better cover for you than just that you’re new to the castle, but I believe it will work fine. No one besides the two of us would ever guess your origin anyway.”

“S-so I can stay?” Virgil asked, “and you won’t throw me into prison or execute me?”

“I promise you were never going to be executed Virgil,” Logan said. “Even if we turned you in, but yes you can stay with us. We’ll figure out a backstory for you that doesn’t involve assassinations and you’ll have to keep up the lie, but I doubt anyone will question it.”

 “I’ll do whatever you want,” Virgil said, chocked up. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go.”

“Well, you’re our friend now so there will be no going anywhere,” Patton said kissing him on the cheek. Virgil relaxed back into his hold, pleased with the affection.

Logan smiled at them both. “Can I see your wrists, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked but offered them and Logan tapped the restraints doing a quick incantation. They popped off after a moment.

“You’re letting me go?” Virgil asked, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Logan said. “We’re not just going to keep you prisoner for no reason.”

 “That’s…” Virgil said, eyes watering as he clearly was trying not to cry. “You’re the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that was not so clearly the case,” Logan replied. He slowly reach up and set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go speak with my father. Patton will stay with you.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, seeming a bit hesitant.

Logan smiled softly and leaned forward to gently touch their foreheads together. “I will be right back,” he assured. “We will finish our slumber party, though perhaps we will table the rest of the dress up activity for another night.”

 He stood then, leaving Virgil in Patton’s capable hands to exit his own bedroom and cross the hallway to his father’s. He took a brief moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

Logan opened the door to see his father sitting on one of the armchairs in his room. Despite the almost disaster that had taken place a few minutes ago, Logan found himself smiling at the man. It was nice to have him home.

“Sorry about that,” Father said.

“It was more my fault than yours. If I knew there was a risk of you coming home today, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

 “Is he alright?”

“I believe so,” Logan answered. “Patton is with him and will certainly smooth out any lingering distress.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good.” There was a pause and then he gestured at the seat beside his.

Logan settled himself down on it. “How was your trip?” he asked. “You’re back a week early.”

“Yes,” Father said. “The trip went better and worse than anticipated.

“How so?” asked Logan curiously.

“Well,” Dad said. “The purpose of the trip was to convince the new queen of Lamir, Cecil not to ally with Mocnejsi, but by the time I’d arrived there wasn’t really a risk of that.”

 “Why not?”

“After investigation, it turned out that Cecil’s mother had been poisoned by an assassin from Mocnejsi.”

“Oh,” Logan said, mind already racing.

“They figured out that one of the young women who had been hired on in the kitchen for the winter had done it, and had learned her origin when they questioned her,” Dad informed him. “Considering Cecil was immediately approached for an alliance with Mocnejsi, their aim was likely to manipulate her going forward because of how young she is. Luckily, Cecil is a smart girl and has the help of her mother’s advisor as well as her own. By the time I got there, my only real role was to extend my condolences and reaffirm out alliance. I would have stayed longer, but the possibility that Mocnejsi may think to attack us in a similar way hastened me home.”

 “That…” Logan said. “That is wise. I assume you are going to institute more security.”

“I am, yes,” Dad replied. “I would like your input on plans in the coming day.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

Dad smiled at him, “But for now,” he said, “I think it’s time you get back to your slumber party and I get to finally go to sleep.”

Logan nodded and got to his feet. He leaned over to hug his father perhaps a bit longer and harder than was strictly necessary, but Dad did not seem to mind at all. “Goodnight,” Logan said.

“Goodnight, son.”

  Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

 Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

 “You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

 Virgil ate his food quickly, and then glanced over at Logan once he was done. Virgil was honestly at a bit of a loss. Usually, they came and got him out of the closet only once they were ready to do something, but Patton was still sound asleep on the floor and Logan looked engrossed in his book.

Virgil fidgeted slightly, unsure what he should be doing or even if he should be doing anything. Considering Logan hadn’t given him any instructions, he should probably not do anything. He didn’t want to screw up the first day of… whatever this was now.

 Logan glanced over at him after a few minutes. “Don’t forget about the potion,” he reminded.

Virgil nodded and stood, walking over to the closet since it would still be in there from the previous morning. It was about half gone now and it had gotten to the point where Virgil didn’t feel any immediate affects from it anymore other than some warmth. It basically just felt like drinking tea.

He said as much to Logan when he walked back over to him.

“That’s good,” Logan said, “it means it has been working. It has healed any damage it can from malnutrition. Any internal organs that were damaged should be mostly healed. You may even notice your eyesight getting slightly better. Your immune system should also be boosted. You will likely also find it is easier to gain muscle and while you likely will never be as tall as you could have been, you will likely still grow a few inches during your next growth spirt.”

 Virgil studied his hands where they were sitting on his thigh now as though he could see the changes that allegedly had already taken place in his body. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Logan replied, eyes already back on his book like it was some normal thing and not a huge kindness he’d bestowed on Virgil before even really knowing him. As though Virgil didn’t just owe him more than just his life going forward.

They sat in silence then for a few more minutes, before the was a soft sigh from the floor and Patton started to wake. He sat up and looked around. His eyes landed on both Virgil and Logan sitting together and he seemed to light up.

 “Good morning!” he chirped.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan said as Patton popped to his feet, “I have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you Lo,” Patton said, throwing his arms around Logan’s neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Virgil presumed from the lack of surprise on Logan’s face that this was normal for morning Patton, not that the fact surprised him considering how night Patton acted.

He still managed to be somewhat surprised by the fact that Patton turned to hug Virgil a second later. Patton’s lips were pressed briefly to Virgil’s head and then he turned to grab the plate Logan had saved for him.

 “So, what are we doing today?” Patton asked.

“I was thinking Virgil and I could continue our reading lessons if he is not opposed,” Logan said. Virgil nodded, happy with that prospect. “Other than that, I have no plans. I have already spoken with my father before the two of you woke. He is going to spend most of his day catching up on things he missed and said I could take the rest of the day off royal duties.”

“A whole day to relax then!” Patton said, happily chewing on his toast. “Reading sounds fun, but we should do something more active too.”

 Logan hummed. “We can show Virgil the courtyard after the reading lessons,” he said.

It took a moment for it to register, but then Virgil froze. “Wait,” he said. “We’re going outside?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“So, we’re leaving your room?”

“Are you alright with that?” Logan asked cautiously.

Virgil nodded quickly.

“Oh,” Patton said at his enthusiasm. “I guess you have been cooped up a while, haven’t you?” He smiled sadly and turned to Logan. “Maybe we can do reading lessons in the garden.”

“That would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Patton said. He looked over at Virgil. “If we’re going out, we should probably put your hair up and get you in some clean clothes.”

 Logan nodded. “You finish eating, and I will help Virgil find something to wear.”

Logan found him an outfit, though it was a bit baggy on Virgil and the hem of the shirt went halfway to his knees. When Patton finished breakfast, he sat Virgil down and carefully worked a brush through his hair.

“Can I braid it?” Patton asked.

Virgil hummed his consent. Having his hair brushed and done up by another person was a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He’d liked it when Logan did it the night before, though he had to very firmly push away thoughts of where that led.

 “Okay!” Patton said after a few moments. “You look good. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and they both led him out into the hall. He paused before they got to the door. “What about the guards?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve already given them the same story as I did Dad,” Logan replied. “They know you’re here.”

Virgil still hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Patton promised. “Here, hold my hand?”

Virgil took the offered hand immediately, and Logan stepped in front of them both. Virgil felt himself relax a bit knowing the prince was between him and the guards.

They led him to the door.

 Logan greeted both of the guards at the door, and they said good morning back. Both of them glanced at Virgil curiously for a moment making him shrink into himself, but they quickly averted their gazes.

Patton pulled him past them without incident and soon they were in the small dining hall Virgil had passed through his first night here. He remembered how he’d snuck around at the edges of the room in the shadows with the aim to kill the king, but now he was being pulled through the middle with the prince having just wandered past the royal guards in broad daylight like it was nothing.

 It was so strange, and Virgil still couldn’t totally believe this was happening. The retraced his exact steps back down the spiral stairs near the kitchen and out of the door he and the nice gardener had came through. He could even see the shed he’d been hiding in from here. With a blink, he remembered they were going to the garden, and he wondered if he’d see the man again.

For now, he just looked around them as Logan and Patton led him past the garden shed towards an area with many trees. Orange and yellow leaves were starting to fall from many of the trees.

 They made a satisfying crunching sound under his feet as he was led to a tree. He had seen the group of trees when he’d first arrived here and had even thought about hiding amongst them instead of in the shed, but they’d seemed scary in the dark. They were pretty in the daylight, however, and Virgil found himself tilting his head to watch the branches sway in the slight wind.

Logan sat down under it and pulled out a book and some writing materials from the bag he’d brought. Virgil settled down next to him so they could both look at the book at the same time and Patton flopped down on the other side, immediately setting to work tying fancy knots in the yarn he’d brought with him. Patton shuffled slightly to the side so they bumped shoulders as Logan opened the book and started Virgil’s reading lesson.

  Chapter 22

Patton bit his lip to keep from laughing or awing. “Do you like the flower, Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil glanced up at him briefly and then his eyes returned to the flower he’d found. “It’s nice,” he said.

They’d finished the reading lessons and let Virgil explore the garden a bit. He’d found a dark purple and yellow flower (a pansy, Patton thought) and seemed to be endlessly fascinated by it. He’d been staring at it for minutes now, almost as though he expected it to do something. Patton did not quite understand his interest, but he was still adorable.

 Logan sat next to him and the flower, smiling at him softly. “I imagine you’ll enjoy the garden in the spring,” Logan said. “There are many more flowers then. Of all types. We’ll have to show you all of the best spots. Mr. Deknis has a particularly good eye for colors, and it is always quite beautiful.”

“Who is Mr. Deknis?” Virgil asked.

“He’s the head gardener,” Logan said. “He’s a nice man, though a bit prickly when it comes to his garden. We may see him today if he’s in this part of the garden.”

“Would he have been the multrum I saw in the gardening shed when I hid there?”

 “Ah, yes, that would be him. I was unaware you interacted with anyone in the castle.”

“He caught me in his garden shed, but he wasn’t mean,” Virgil said, he tilted his head curiously at Logan. “Why…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“Why is he the gardener?”

Logan looked confused, “Well,” he said, “I guess because he wants to and is good at it.”

“No,” Virgil said with a frown. “I mean. Shouldn’t he… he’s…”

Logan seemed to think hard for a moment. “Right,” he said. “You’ve been under a blood compulsion. I’d guess you would have only worked with multrums in the military.”

 “I guess I didn’t realize that they could be other things…”

“Of course, they can,” Logan said. “Their abilities don’t make them any less of people. Mr. Deknis likes to garden so he gardens.”

Virgil blinked at him.

“…Of course, all things considered, that may not be a familiar concept to you.” Virgil turned back to look at the flower instead of answering. “Right,” said Logan.

There were a couple of awkward beats of silence. Patton bit his lip and happened to glance up. “Oh,” he said. “Speaking of Mr. Deknis.” He gestured to the gardener who was coming up the path between the trees.

 Logan sat up on his knees as Patton waved at him. He saw Patton and turned to walk towards them. “The two of you had better not be up to mischief in my garden,” Mr. Deknis called, his voice a bit gruff. He clearly did not see Virgil who had laid flat on his stomach to stare at the flower.

Logan rolled his eyes automatically. “We were just reading Mr. Deknis,” he said. “Your piles of dirt are safe.”

“No mud cakes?” Mr. Deknis asked skeptically still coming towards them.

“It has been a literal decade…”

Patton saw when Mr. Deknis was close enough to see Virgil.

 He stopped in his track and looked down at Virgil who was already watching him a bit warily. “Hello,” he said, his voice a lot softer than it’d been a few moments before. His expression completely flipped in a moment to something very gentle when he saw Virgil and the cautious look on his face. Virgil did seem to have that effect on people.

“Hi,” Virgil replied.

Mr. Deknis looked at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Virgil. “This is our new friend, Virgil,” Patton offered.

“Hello, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a nod.

“Virgil, this is the gardener Mr. Deknis.”

 “He’s not nearly as grumpy as he sounds,” Patton assured.

“Well,” Logan said, “yes he is.”

Mr. Deknis shot him a look that only served to prove Logan’s point if Patton was being honest. Logan just smiled back. Mr. Deknis apparently decided to let it slide because he turned back to Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mr. Deknis said. “Are you feeling better?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m a lot better,” he said. Mr. Deknis considered him for a moment, clearly reading how true that statement was. Patton was glad he seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I see you’ve met these two.”

 “Yeah,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly. “Be careful with this one,” he said, pointing to Logan. “He’s a bad influence.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. “He’s the prince,” he pointed out.

“And a bad influence,” Mr. Deknis repeated. “He’s a beacon of irresponsibility and mischief and he corrupts that one,” he nodded to Patton.

“I am completely responsible,” Logan replied.

“Need I remind you of the cucumber incident.”

“I was 8,” Logan said.

“I know how old you were,” Mr. Deknis replied, “and you are hardly any older.”

“I resent that.”

Mr. Deknis just smiled and turned back to Virgil who was watching the interaction with pure curiosity.

 “I just picked a few more of those apples for Patton’s mom to make into apple sauce. Would you kids like some?”

Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Patton replied for them all, standing up. Seeing that, Virgil also climbed to his feet.

“It’s back this way,” Mr. Deknis said, inclining hid head back the way he’d came and then turning to lead them that way. Patton followed him. He glanced back to see Logan put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and give him a gentle push to get him going. “So, what are you kids up to today?”

 “We wanted to show Virgil the garden and courtyard,” Patton said. “He’s been cooped up inside for a bit.”

“I see,” Mr. Deknis said. He glanced back at Virgil. “Feel free to come out in the garden anytime you like. As long as you don’t go about purposefully destroying stuff, I don’t mind you being out here.”

“I won’t destroy anything,” Virgil promised instantly.

“Well I hope you manage to keep that attitude even while befriending the large upright groundhog behind you.”

Virgil looked a little bit nervous. “He’s just teasing Virgil,” Patton assured. “He loves Logan.”

Mr. Deknis glanced back again and seemed to read the same thing Patton had read on Virgil’s face.

 “Yes, of course,” Mr. Deknis said. “I have simply known the prince for a long time and joke with him in that way often. Logan is aware of that.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, his hand squeezing a bit on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil relaxed a touch.

Mr. Deknis stopped and reached down into a bucket next to a tree. “I wouldn’t offer my apples to people I don’t like,” he said, tossing an apple underhand to Logan. Instead of trying to catch it, his eyes widened and he dodged out of the way.

“You would however throw apples at them despite knowing they have never been able to catch things.”

 Mr. Deknis just rolled his eyes fondly, but Virgil frowned and turned to Logan. “You don’t know how to catch things?” he asked scandalized. “You should know how to catch things. What if someone throws a knife at you?”

Mr. Deknis looked… probably the right amount of concerned about that statement coming from a 14-year-old’s lips.

“Haha, yeah,” Patton said awkwardly. “Maybe you can teach Logan how to catch things Virgil, but later. Right now, why don’t we just get the apples and then show you the courtyard.”

Virgil was still frowning, but he did not argue with Patton’s suggestion.

 Thankfully, Mr. Deknis did not push, though Patton did have to dodge many a meaningful side eye. He might… need to make sure he did not get cornered by the gardener in the coming days… or brush up on his lying without lying skills.

For now, though, he just handed out the apples, not tossing them this time. Virgil thanked him softly and Patton could see the way the usually fairly gruff man went all melty at that. He even slipped an extra apple to Virgil for later which Virgil perked up at.

Patton and Logan pulled him away gently after that so Mr. Deknis could go back to work, but Virgil seemed happy with the apples and copied Patton at waving goodbye to him cheerfully.

Despite the fact that he liked Mr. Deknis and he’d been nice, Patton still took a calming breath when they were no longer at risk of lying about something and getting caught by the man’s powers. They went back into the castle towards the courtyard.

  Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

 Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

 “Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

 To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

 Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

[wheneveryourereddie]

The Heart Wants What It Wants

Inspired by this edit 

Read on AO3 

Summary: Richie and Mike are twins but couldn’t be anymore opposite. Even though Mike is happy with his relationship with Jane (Eleven), he can’t get his brother’s boyfriend out of his head.

Warning: There is this thing called ANGST near the end, so yeah, there’s that.

A/n: I’M STILL A REDDIE SHIPPER! PLUS MILEVEN IS ALL THE FUCKING WAY! I just saw this edit from instagram and I thought it was a cool idea, besides all the angst.

——————

Richie and Mike maybe identical twins, but they couldn’t be anymore opposite then each other. Richie would always be coming up with the most ridiculous ideas while Mike would be needing to calm him down somehow. Even the way they dressed was different! Richie always had his glasses and Hawaiian shirts and ripped jeans. Mike could just be easily found wearing his navy blue hoodie or a decorated sweater and normal jeans. The two do love each other, they just don’t show it much.

“Did you do the homework?” Dustin hoped, pulling out his notebook.

“Yeah, it’s due next lesson,” Will nodded.

“Shit!” Dustin curse as he messily scribbled down something.

“You do this every time with English!” Lucas exclaimed.

Dustin groaned, “I’m sorry, but since when do I need to know Shakespeare’s work on Romeo and Juliet in my life!?”

“Right now would be a great time!” Max groaned.

“What does he do?” Jane asked confused.

“Leave his homework to the last minute as some sort of statement,” Lucas tried to explain.

“Jesus Christ!” Dustin sighed, “Mike, back me up here!”

Mike wasn’t listening to their stupid argument. His mind was far away from what was going on in front of him. Instead, Mike was watching something completely different. His attention was drawn towards his twin brother, Richie and his little boyfriend.

Of course, Richie had once again somehow injured himself. Only god knows how he did it, but there he was with Eddie. The two were sitting on the staircase of the school halls while others past by them. Richie was going on about something he probably saw while Eddie would make a comment here and there.

“Mike? Earth to Mike Wheeler?”

The last bandage went on and Eddie let out a sigh of relief. Richie smiled as he laced his fingers within Eddie’s little fingers. A small smile formed on Eddie’s lips, leaning his head onto his boyfriend’s shoulder. Mike saw his brother say something stupid, earning a disgusted face from the smaller figure. Laughter erupted from Richie as Eddie chuckled along with him.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Mike!”

It didn’t take long for Richie to soon start placing kisses on the side of Eddie’s face. That’s where Mike ruled the line. His eyes darted way from the happy couple. His gut was getting all twisted and jumbled up from what he saw. Mike clenched his jaw as he tried to forget the memory.

He had no idea why the hell he’s been feeling like this for a while. The Wheelers have known the Kaspbraks since kindergarten, they were cabin buddies in the 4th grade! It was just that Richie ended up being the gay, well bi, one of the family. With that, he found out the guy he liked was gay and thought fuck it. Mike knew Eddie was gay, and into guys like Richie for some reason. Hell, Mike wasn’t anywhere near gay, let alone bi like Richie! So then why the living fuck can’t he get Eddie out of his damn mind!

“oh my GOD! MIKE WHEELER!”

“What!?” He finally gave them the attention.

“Lucas is yelling at me for not doing my English homework, but in reality I won’t be needing it in the future!” Dustin tried to catch him up. “Now! Could you please explain to Lucas that there is no reason to study it.”

“You guys are freakin’ children,” Mike rolled his eyes.

“No we’re not!”

“We’re all children, you idiot,” Max corrected them. “We’re still under the age of 18.”

Dustin shook his head in annoyance, “You guys are fucking useless,” stuffing his notebook back into his backpack.

Will looked around, trying to find a clock, but stumble upon something almost illegal, “oh god.”

“What?” Max asked, looking in the same direction. “Is your brother trying to swallow him?”

Mike looked over, only to regret it later in advance. Richie’s arms were wrapped around the smaller figure as he pulled Eddie closer to him. Eddie had both hands on Richie’s face, trying to steady the hormonal boy. Meanwhile, both the boys looked like they were trying to eat each other until one is gone. Mike really wanted to stop the two, he really did, but he knew once he goes over he’ll never hear the end of it.

“Just ignore them,” Jane pulled Mike away.

Lucas, “yeah guys, just ignore them.”

“How about as revenge, dress up as Richie and try to make out Eddie,” Dustin thought.

“And this is why I come up with the ideas,” Lucas sighed.

“Even if I could, or wanted to,” he won’t lie, Mike did want to, just to see what it was like, “Richie tried dressing up as me for halloween, thought I was so emo it would be scary.”

“Did it work?” Will asked.

“He burnt himself with Nancy’s straightener and couldn’t even leave the house without bumping

into something.”

“Why?”

“Probably because a bat can see God compared to Richie!”

The party all nodded and tried to ignore the two. It was like a gift from the Lord when the bell rang. The group disbanded to the classes they had next. Mike, being the gentleman he is, he walked alongside Jane to her next class.

“Are you alright?”

“What?” Mike asked, confused.

“When Lucas and Dustin were arguing, you kept on looking at Eddie and Richie,” Jane explained. “You didn’t look happy.”

“I was just grossed out by them,” Mike shrugged off. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Jane asked, a little more hopeful this time.

Mike gave his girlfriend a warning smile, “trust me, I’m alright.”

Jane returned the smiled, then gave him a quick peck before skipping off to her next class. Mike smiled and continued his journey to his own class. That’s when it clicked. Oh shit, Eddie was in his next class.

~~~

“Why is Richie’s t-twin staring at you?” Bill asked, looking behind them.

“I don’t know,” Eddie looked behind him.

Oh god, Mike was full on staring at him. It took Mike a few seconds to realise Eddie made eye contact with him. He shuffled in his chair then starting paying attention to the lector. Eddie rolled his eyes as he pull his phone out.

“Wh-wah-what are you doing?” Bill asked.

“Texting him,” Eddie laid his phone out flat on the table, “cover me.”

Edd K: u need 2 stop starin

Mike’n Ikes: i wasnt starin!

Edd K: bullshit! u left scars on my head!

“What’s he saying?” Bill asked.

“Nothin’ yet,” Eddie sighed.

Edd k: why u starin’ anyways?

Mike’n Ikes: ur big head iz in da way

“Mr. Kaspbrak!” The teacher erupted, making poor little Eddie jump. Her heels clicked against the titles as she strutted forward towards the boys. Her hands were glued to her hips, “texting in my class?”

“I was texting him!” Mike stood up.

The teacher turned around, her stand becoming more strong, “and why would that be?” Mike hesitated, he couldn’t think of a lie right on the spot. “Well Mr.Wheeler?”

There was nothing but complete silence within the air. It would’ve possible to hear a pin drop.

“Still nothing?”

“No, ms.”

“Then how about continuing your conversation in the principal's office?”

“What?” Mike questioned. “Ms, come on!”

“Now!” Then turned back to Eddie, “You too Eddie.”

All Eddie did was groan and flung his backpack over his shoulder. Mike did the same thing and followed Eddie down the hall.

The two boys sat in complete silence, probably planning on how to kill each other. Mike had his backpack by his feet and his hands in his jacket. Eddie had one leg over the other, twiddling his thumbs in stress. Fumes were leaving Eddie’s ears in smoke.

“My mom’s gonna kill me!” Eddie sighed, running a hand through his comb hair.

“Sucks to be you then!” Mike groaned.

“This is your fault!”

“No, it’s not!”

“If you just paid attention, none of this would’ve happened!” Eddie started.

“I told you! Your giant head was in the fucking way!”

“We were on completely different sides of the class!”

“You’re annoying!”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up Einstein!”

The door opened as a student left the room. It wasn’t surprising that it was Richie himself leaving the principal's office. What was surprising was finding his boyfriend and his brother there though.

“Wait there for a few minutes boys,” the administration instructed, then closed the door.

A smirk grew on Richie, “oh my holy shit!” His smile grew bigger. “What did my little bro and little spaghetti do?”

It was almost like on command, the two said together, “he did it.”

“Woah,” Richie chuckled. “You gotta explain at lunch!”

“I will,” Eddie sighed. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya,” Richie pecked his cheek, then turned to his brother, “you’re fucked.”

“Piss off,” Mike hissed.

“Whatever you say, little bro,” he smirked, then walked off.

“You’re only older by 8 seconds!”

~~~

“He hasn’t been acting up!”

“Richie! He has!” Eddie tried to get his message across. “He’s been staring at me a lot more the usual, tries to start conversations with me, more touchy-,”

“Touchy!?” Richie stood up properly against the lockers. “How touchy? Touchy as in hand holding, or as in wants to have a taste of your special sauce?”

“Richie!”

“I’m only asking Eds!” Richie defended for himself. “I’ll talk to him.”

“A, stop call me that & B, I better do it,” Eddie groaned.

“You sure? Cause I’ve been told we look almost like clones?” Richie was going on. “You could mistake him for me, and then that could lead to you being on your hands and knees like the other night!”

“Richie! I’ve known the both of you for god knows how long!” Eddie tried to calm him down. “I’ve got it.”

“Ah, Fine!” Richie slouched against the lockers. “I guess I won’t be your knight in shining armour!”

“You aren’t even a Knight!” Stan walked up to the couple, along with Bill and Beverly. “Let alone one in shining armour.”

“Wow, thanks, Stan!” Richie pulled a fake smile, the flipped him off.

“What did the p-principal say?” Bill asked.

“Principal?” Bev asked. “What happened Eddie?”

“Richie’s brother, that’s what happened.”

“Don’t worry Little Eds!” Richie smiled. “I’ve already got my revenge plan.”

“I said I was gonna talk to him.”

~~~

He knew where to go. This place was special to them, the three of them. Now it was different. They grew up and moved on to other things. Yet, whenever one of them is asked to meet here, then it defiantly serious.

This was those times.

Eddie waited for him there. His hands were constantly shaking in fear. The tension was already high in the thick air. He couldn’t wait anymore, where the hell was he?

The sound of gravel being pushed around startled him. Footsteps got louder the closer they came to Eddie. A tall figure took his seat next to Eddie on the log. The two did not make any eye connection whatsoever. Now it was time.

“I called you every night.”

“Yeah, I saw.”

“And did nothing!?” Mike asked, almost sounding heartbroken.

“What was I supposed to do?” Eddie finally looked over to Mike. “It was one stupid kiss, Mike!” Eddie stood up. “We were forced to kiss, remember?”

“Yes!” Mike stood up too. “Very clearly!”

“But that was months ago,” Eddie’s voice was more gentle now. “Mike. Ever since that damn party you’ve been acting differently towards me.”

“I know,” Mike sighed his bottom lip quivering, “and I fucking hate it.”

“If you continue this, Jane’s gonna find out,” Eddie tried to convince him.

Mike licked his lips, “she did this morning.”

“What did she asked?”

“That I was alright,” Mike hesitated, “because I saw you and Richie together, on the stairs.”

Eddie remembered that, oh so very clear. He just didn’t consider who was watching. He and Richie were too caught up in the moment to even care if a teacher had seen them. If only he was cautious a few hours ago.

“Mike,” his voice was soft but broken, “What I need right now is an explanation, not a full one, but at least an idea on what the hell is going on with you!”

“You wanna know!?” Mike cracked. “I wish I knew too!” Eddie was taken by his sudden outburst. “I wanna know why you’re always on my mind! I wanna know why it hurts so much me seeing you and Richie together! I wanna know why I want Richie to hurt you so I could be there for you! THE LIST GOES ON EDWARD KASPBRAK!” Mike had grown sick of this pain, now he was letting go of it. Tears started to drip down his cheeks and onto the gravel. “I wanna know why I’ve felt like this since that damn night.”

Eddie pressed his lips together as he swiped his tears away with his sleeve, “so what? Are you gay now or something ?”

Mike huffed, “I don’t know if this makes me gay, or bi or whatever the hell people want to identify them with these days.” Mike stepped closer to Eddie, the air getting thicker. “All I know is that, whatever these feelings are, there for you.”

“Mike,” Eddie sighed as he tried to hide more of the tears, “you know I can’t accept this, even if I wasn’t dating Richie or if I just wanted to.”

“I know,” Mike let out another tear. “I can’t force you to.”

“I love Richie, you’re twin.”

“That’s the only thing we have in common, besides our looks,” Mike chuckle. “We both love you.”

Another tear left Eddie’s sore eyes, “I really am sorry, Mike.”

Mike nodded, “it’s okay.”

“Goodbye, Mike.”

“Goodbye, Eddie.”

Then like that, he was gone.