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i like my pretty pretty ugly

Summary:

bug boy realises he is gregor samsa

Notes:

i couldnt be bothered to finish this properly but its mostly for me anyway so . Who Care.

title from linda ronstadt by ajj

(See the end of the work for other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

Around midway through his second year at St Churnley’s, something strange begins to happen to Edward Gadfly. 

It starts with headaches. He has never been particularly prone to headaches - not when he’s wearing his glasses, anyhow - so the sudden frequency with which these headaches occur is surprising and annoying. All too often he finds himself leaving class or skipping playtime to go and lie down, burying his head under his duvet and waiting for the pain to fade. He’s tried everything - drinking water, going to sleep earlier, but even Elliot’s berries don’t help. The pain remains. 

He visits Lenny, and he’s able to help sometimes, but Edward feels bad for the man - he’s getting these headaches at such a rapidly increasing frequency that it’s not fair on the already over-worked nurse to deal with it every single time. He has actual injuries to treat; Edward doesn’t want to bother him with his non-issues. 

Then Neil finds Edward in their dorm, curled up on the floor, screaming into the carpet as his hand pull desperately at his hair. Panicked, Neil calls into the common room for Elliot, who comes rushing in with Monty. Elliot kneels next to him, as Monty caws nervously from Neil’s shoulder, but it’s no use. Ed pushes Elliot away, screaming, thudding his head against the ground, anything to make it stop. 

“Get a teacher.” Elliot turns to Neil and Monty. It’s not a request. The two of them scarper, leaving Elliot to hover uselessly next to his friend, his nails digging into his palms. Within no time at all, Sarge crashes into the room, takes one look at Edward hurting himself, and lifts him bodily out of the room in a fireman’s carry. Mr Kelly appears in the common room soon after, taking Elliot and Neil aside and talking quietly to them as the students who watched Sarge carry Ed away murmur quietly among themselves. 

It’s late by the time Edward comes back to the dorm. Everyone has gone to bed - or at least, retreated to their dorms - except Elliot and Monty, who wait on the sofa in the common room anxiously. Ed barely acknowledges them, walking blankly through the room, face pale. Sarge follows him, bends down to whisper something to him, and he nods, disappearing into his room. 

“Sarge? Is he alright?” Elliot asks quietly. Sarge looks at him tiredly, her face drawn. 

“He’ll be fi-functional, after a good nights rest. As will you, lad. Go get some sleep.” Her voice is firm, no-nonsense, but as Elliot heads reluctantly to bed, she places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, before nodding at Monty and spinning on her heel. 

Edward sleeps through breakfast the next morning, but shows up midway through first period - Respect. Mr Kelly gives him a warm smile as he enters and quietly takes his seat next to Elliot. 

“You okay?” Elliot whispers over to him, expression full of concern. Ed, visibly tired but otherwise seemingly fine, nods.

When they break off into pairs to do an activity set by Kelly, Ed quietly explains to Elliot and Monty what had happened. 

“Feel my head,” he says, taking Elliot’s hand and placing it on his scalp. 

Elliot gently strokes his palm across Ed’s head, soft hair (thankfully granola-free) tickling his palms and a blush lightly dusting his cheeks. 

He keeps petting, confused, until:

“Oh,” 

And then, again:

Oh.”

“Mmhmm,” says Ed. 

Elliot brings his other hand up to Ed’s head. Underneath his hands, hidden by Ed’s messy hair, are two small - yet noticeable - lumps. 

“What - what are they?” Elliot continues curiously touching Ed’s head, gently stroking with his fingertips. Ed leans into the touch subconsciously as he shrugs. 

“Dunno. But Lenny reckons they’re why I was gettin’ all the headaches. Mr Hexmaster thinks they could grow into horns, or something.” 

“And… how are you feeling about that?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Ed pulls away, and Monty and Elliot share a look.


As the year progresses, it becomes abundantly clear that it is not horns that are growing on Edward’s head. Instead, the two lumps grow long and thin, stretching upwards and fading into a shade of pale green. As the end of the school year approaches, he has two threadlike antennae sprouting from the top of his head, antennae that were highly sensitive. 

“Elliot,” Ed crashes into Elliot and Dante’s dorm without knocking. Dante and Dennis don’t even look up from where they’re sat reading on Dante’s bed. “I need your help. Come with me.” And with that, Elliot is being dragged out of his room and into the bathroom block. 

“Ellie. I cannot go home like this.” 

“Like what?”

“Like.. this.” He gestures wildly at his antennae. “I need you to find a way to help me hide them.” 

Elliot blinks. 

Hide them? Why would you do that?”

“Because we are going home soon, and there is absolutely no way in hell that I can let my parents see these! What if - you know what Ollie said, last year. What if they try that on me?” He whispers, desperate and afraid. “I - they - I need to hide them. Somehow.” 

Elliot is quiet for a long, thoughtful moment, before sighing - a little sadly - and agreeing. 

“Okay. I’ll help you. But you won’t be able to hide it from them all Summer. You’re gonna have to tell them at some point, or they’ll find out.” 

That’s what you think, Edward thinks. 

They get to work brainstorming different ways to hide the antennae, but eventually go with the most obvious; Elliot gives Edward his St Churnley’s hat, and they manage to twist the antennae so that they sit beneath the hat.

It is… remarkably uncomfortable, bordering on painful. He grimaces the entire time Elliot bends the appendages, and winces as he tugs the hat down his forehead. Still: it does the job. It covers them up completely, and he can replace the St Churnley’s hat with a baseball cap once he gets home. Sorted. 

Nevermind the fact that the feeling of his antennae being squashed causes his senses to overload. Over the past few months, he has become accustomed to the extra oomf the antennae give to his senses. They affect his sense of smell, and are extremely sensitive to touch. They help him find his way in the dark (particularly useful when sneaking around the school at night). To have them muffled in such a way is like being blindfolded, or having his hands cut off. It’s a complete removal of one of his senses, and he hates it. 

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