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w0rmm1lk · 5 months

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Texting.

Reader: not mentioned.

characters: all characters i write for (besides kota and eri)

type: can be read as both platonic and romantic

sumarry: how i think the mha characters would text.

warnings: possible swearing, denki being denki.

👾Mina Ashido👾

she abuses her emoji privledges. like nobody will ever receive a message from her that doesn't have an emoji. lots of all caps.

👓Tenya Iida👓

oh you were texting him? bitch writes as if he's writing a formal email. your ass is lucky that he doesn't start that shit off with "I hope this message finds you well.". not even kidding will proof read every message he sends at least twice.

♾️Ochaco Uraraka♾️

will end every message that isnt on a serious topic with :D. its so sweet tbh.

⚡Denki Kaminari⚡

this man uses so many abbreviations that even if you think you use a lot just know you're learning a new one everyday. not even kidding makes up his own shit. once sent mina "lmkiydthesicci" and nobody could figure out wtf he meant. lowkey flirting with every mssg he sends. every single person in the class, girl or not has received a message from him that just says "hey bbg ;)". he received a very long lecture from iida and a very confused reply from todoroki. todoroki didn't actually know wtf bbg meant. thought he misspelled bbq at first.

🪨Kirishima🪨

unironically sends messages that just say "rawr". uses the :} face a lot bc he thinks it looks like his unbreakable.

🐙Mezou Shoji🐙

i feel like he has such a low screentime that if anyone needs to text him he's only available for like an hour a day. accidentally leaves ppl on read. messages seem very bland usually.

❄️Shoto Todoroki🔥

another bland person but tbh hes the worst out of them all. like he can look at a whole paragraph asking him if he wants to go to the movies with the rest of the class and all he will reply with is just "ok." uses periods at the end of every message but I swear he's not mad.

💥 Bakugo💥

if he receives any messages past 8pm the "reply" will be you getting left on delivered even if he's still up, or a message just saying "shut the fuck up and go to bed.". also bland but he's more of a "k" bland rather than a "ok." bland.

🥦Izuku Midoryia🥦

he will not even kidding receive a message that just says "hi" and will send a whole paragraph that is basically just a lengthened "hi! how are you?". uses the smiley emoji a lot.

💫Momo Yaoyorozu💫

lots of ! at the end of messages, you can feel the happiness through your phone screen. uses heart emojis at the end of messages and memorizes the meaning of each color so she can use them accordingly.

🖤Shihai Kuroiro🖤

another :} user, sometimes uses :] but mainly :}. only ever texts ppl at hours like 2-4 am. you cant convince me he gets enough sleep.

👔Neito Monoma👔

you think hed text you?/j kinda just an average texter, any message about class 1a will be in all caps.

😈Dabi😈

oh look. another bland ass texter, at least he takes the time to actually type out "okay," only sends emojis if he's talking about how weird the emoji looks.

🔪Himiko Toga🔪

uses :] all the time. not :}, or :). just :]. if anyone texts her, even if its just a simple "hi." and she isn't busy, congrats you've agreed to a 3 hour face time call.

✋Tomura Shigaraki✋

he leaves everyone on read. if you question why he left you on read all you're getting is an "if its so important then talk to me face to face."

🃏Mr. Compress🃏

so you know how earlier i said you were lucky Iida didnt start with "I hope this message finds you well,"? your luck ran out. he writes it like you're a long distant friend who he is sending some fancy ass shit letter to. not even kidding ends each message with "--Compress."

🪽Hawks🪽

types so fast his phone doesnt even register his hands. half his messages be looking like "se tht ouds ood". he doesn't even bother to edit it or correct himself.

👁️Aizawa👁️

he texts like a dad. texting this mf be like:

"ok👍"

"*photo of a weird boat*"

🌙Midnight🌙

miss girl uses so many ;) that its hard to tell if shes suggesting something weird or not. ended every greetings message with that one kissy emoji.

🙂Mirio Togata🙂

uses the 🙂 all the time because he thinks it looks like him. it does.

🌀Nejire Hado🌀

lots of !!! and :D, also uses the :> a lot lol. lots of blue heart emojis aswell.

🦋Tamaki Amajiki🦋

sends articles about different butterflies he likes or thinks the person he sends it to would like along with a message along the lines of "I think this fits you :]". rarely texts first but when he does he clicks send and sitts on the other side of the bed as his phone while staring at it intensely, just waiting for the reply notif. wont actually read the reply for a good minute.

🐈‍⬛Hitoshi Shinsou🐈‍⬛

sends photos of random animals he sees while out and about. usually just cats. (no way this man doesn't feed the strays around ua) another person that only texts at night time.

🛠️Mei Hastume🛠️

uses >:D a lot, shows blueprints of her new babies all the time, ngl they are usually rlly messy. texts are just :

"LOOK AT THIS NEW BABY IN PROGRESS >:D"

"* incomprehensible image of a blueprint *"

⭐Yo Shindo⭐

uses the thumbs up way to much but like in the passive aggresive way yk? but also if you send him a photo of something ur proud of he will reply with a simple "oh that's cool!" but there's so much fucking emotion behind it ur just kinda like ???

🛡Melissa Shield🛡

her messages are so sweet. sunset pictures of the ocean every other day. lots of :).

wrote this is one go and now my hands hate me. i think this was at least 20 characters-? idk I'm struggling to count.

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7k9sinthee · 4 months

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Random headcanons;

⌑ Nsfw/Sfw?: SFW

⌑ Reader?: No

⌑ Genre?: Fluff, headcanons

⌑ Editted?: in the process...

Characters: Romeo, Juliet, Tybalt, Benvolio

ㄨ Romeo

⁺ Although extremely stupid- as exhibited from his irrational behavior, I believe he actually learns quite quickly.

⁺ When he was dancing at the Capulet part (1968 film), he learned quickly how to dance, although a bit poorly.

⁺ Anyways, he'd be the type to mess up a bit, glance over to someone else doing the same thing and then copy off from them.

Has probably tripped once or twice and always snaps his head back to blame someone for tripping. (Tybalt has been there once or twice...)

Secret handshakes with Mercutio and Benvolio- sometimes making one that requires all three present at once.

Everytime he's scolded his brain just. Flatlines. He literally doesn't take anything in. (Although a lesson not to do whatever got him in trouble in the first place.)

Plucks flowers from gardens to gift to Mercutio/Benvolio as a joke- more seriously to Juliet (..or yourself, if you'd like).

Every time he writes letters to specifically his friends, he adds a small " ! " to his signature.

Has so many inside jokes..

If he were to fall/trip, he'd fall right on his face. I don't make the rules. (I do)

When Romeo is happy, he always has a little pep in his step- like he's all giddy and happy.

Scratches his head when he's confused.

Seems like the type to be writing something and then accidentally misspell the easiest word ever.

Has a habit of just dozing off, leaving a lot of his friends confused

Sneaks out a bit, not a lot like Mercutio may but a reasonable amount to either meet up with friends or just for himself.

Writes horrible poetry that Benvolio and Mercutio support.

Definitely is the type to have a bedtime and tell his friends, "I can not come, as the moon rests high in the sky and beckons for me to sleep!"

Sneezes like a little girl imo

He definitely has a goofy, silly little smile.

Juliet

I just know she smells like flowers every day- how she does it? Remains a mystery..

So many little jokes with Nurse that no one else would know about.

Doesn't openly call Nurse "mom" but she enjoys to refer to Nurse as she would a mother rather than her biological mother.

Also kind of clumsy, she couldn't carry a bucket full of only water to save her.. (💔)

Actually sometimes indulges in reading poems time to time.

Very, very much the type to pick a flower and smell it.

Loves to pick up flowers, pedals, feathers, etc.

Probably has a collection of dried up flowers gifted to her over time.

Juliet really enjoys incorporating little cute things in her outfits!

Views Tybalt as an older brother rather than her father's cousin.

Makes references to things only Nurse knows so it leaves everyone else much confused- and on rare occasions Tybalt might get it, too.

Picks up her dress when she runs, like a princess.

Definitely the type to be like, "Excuse me. Mind your manners..." whenever she hears someone curse.

Whenever she sees Romeo, she faces fully towards him and holds her hands out - and he comes to pick her up and spin her like a little ballerina !!

Has attempted to draw/paint multiple times before, and whenever done- Lord Capulet always hangs it up with much pride no matter if it looks "funky."

Tybalt

"Grab me my rapier"

Definitely the type to take great pride in his swords

Actually, seems like the type to keep a GIANT sword collection.

He's definitely the type to overhear conversions in secret but then give the fattest side eyes/disgusting glares.

Tybalt 100% has his lips sealed with any secret. Never could get anything out of him.

Juliet actually hides behind Tybalt quite often (not usually physically), and Tybalt isn't afraid to defend his younger sister.

Also, 100% defends Nurse, or rather any woman in his life. He's most definitely a woman's boy.

Has the most sly grin you'll ever see in your life.

His deep voice actually very often scares people, so depending on who he's talking to; he'll either lower his volume and attempt to speak softer or keep speaking in much confidence.

He'll soften his voice for the nicer, quieter folk and speak loudly for the annoying and cocky guys.

Little bitty scars all over him from him attempting to perfect his sword fighting skills.

Very often flaunts off and attempts to look flashy and show-offish.

Even though he's old enough and pretty mature, he'll never ever consider drinking or smoking. He believes it's far too disgusting for himself.

Although Nurse isn't Tybalts true mother- Tybalt will have moments where "momma Nurse" slip out.

Actually kinda enjoys keeping things neat in order - in his room at least, outside, he doesn't mind getting a little messy.

On that topic... Tybalt very often helps out Nurse with chores and such, but no one really notices because he doesn't want to be seen like that (question mark)

The definition of wet soggy cat

Other than that- he just is overall very sweet and polite.

Benvolio

Definitely the type to write little poems or works of literature but always puts it to the side to "continue later"-

He never finishes them and usually Romeo would come by and read those works out to Benvolio as a way to just tease.

Has very, very specific humor- he only really laughs at inside jokes.

Of course, he'll have a nice laugh at a funny joke but, inside jokes are what really get him.

The type to accidentally snicker at the wrong moment and have to excuse himself. (😭)

Though this would only be around friends, he most definitely can control himself from laughing around Lord Montague and such.

Very polite fellow

Seems like the type to like cross his hands when sitting down and he sits down very politely and tightly-

He doesn't want to take up much space on benches anyways.

If he was a cat, he'd be that one cat with an apple that just sits there all polite getting pet by a giant wooden spoon.

Very gentle with everything and everyone. Either physically, emotionally, or verbally-

Despite being extremely polite, he is the one that has the best insults ("thee mother looks like a yellow belly, tavern hopping maniac, it's no surprise thou looks alike!", also said in the most polite way possible)

Has a nice, gentle voice. Slightly accented, though, unlike many.

The hat he usually wears - the one seen in act 1 (1968 film) - is one from long ago.

It was gifted to him, and he constantly wore it when he was a teen-ish, but it was a bit too big, so it'd cover quite a bit of his face.

Longer hair >>>

Somehow, has extremely beautiful, long lashes.

He strangely enough seems like the one to get hurt least often, but when he does, it's like the worst thing to ever happen. (Que Benvolio accidentally falling out a window)

Picks up little branches and sticks to collect randomly ?? He doesn't really do anything with them. The sticks either end up getting thrown out or forgotten about.

The type to be writing something and then accidentally slip up and create a massive mark in the middle of the paper without a way to hide it.

Has maybe fallen out a window before ?

Benvolio has so many unnecessary items laying around in his home

He has a collection of beads/rocks of sorts- all very polished and shiny.

Just a friendly reminder that these are all headcanons 🫶

#romeo and juliet #juliet1968 #tybalt king of cats #tybalt capulet #tybalt capp #tybalt headcanons #romeo headcanons #juliet headcanons #romeo and juliet 1968 #benvolio montague #benvolio #benvolio 1968 #headcanons #fic #romeo and juliet fanfic

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wildnya · 1 year

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Big Sister Draconia

@leclerc-eisner @imvietnamesenotchinese ask and thou shall receive

i wanted to make an overpowered oc for twst. this is the result.

important edits:

~ no she is not to be taken seriously she’s here to make thing’s funny and entertaining

~since the diasomnia chapters have come out take anything that goes against canon with a grain of salt those are subject to change

i don't have a name for her just yet so if anyone has some suggestions that would be very appreciated(i want to keep that trend of 'mal' or something with `Mel' being the start of the name since granny draconia's name starts with it too) (and yes i have considered Mallory but it's too cliche for me). for shits and giggles her middle names are Meredith Sue

this is a bunch of rambling everything is out of order grammar is weird words are used incorrectly misspellings exist bear with me

i added my christconia edit to catch people’s attention it has nothing to do with the post

tagging @cupids-chamber @twisted-lusty @writing-for-me-at-this-point @bestwishes2u @stupidneko @mrsmephisto @leonakingscholarship @honey-milk-depresso for clout reblogs and mutual attention seeking

first things first, appearance. she is gorgeous and when i say that i mean natural super model body make the girls wet the boys hard the theys/thems sweat and asexuals and gays reconsider their sexuality drop dead gorgeous. she looks like a female version of malleus. but she is much taller than him. if they stood directly in front of each other mal's face would be in front of her chest. the end of her hair stops where her hips and midriff meet and is black and silky soft. what does she use? dish soap yes you heard me she uses dish soap. vil has begun to believe it has to do with growing up in Brair Valley. her boobies are on the bigger side but nothing extreme. hands are rough and callus from combat. same eyes and horns as mal. she looks like she has no muscle on her arms but it is quite the opposite there isn’t anyone alive that’s able to beat her in arm strength. oh and she has a six pack.

she never talks. ever. this is not an exaggeration. no one has heard her utter a word for centuries not even meemaw draconia remembers what her voice sounds like. and then there’s the permanent resting bitch face. only Malleus has been able to get her to smile and even then it's rare.

her magical energy is on a whole other level compared the everyone else’s. she’s so strong she isn’t included in the worlds strongest magicians. has enough magical energy to power all the magic devices in the world for at minimum a century. in this AU of mine there are certain individuals that are excluded from the top magicians list because they’re power is just so immense and can’t be measured. (i actually have two other oc’s in the same situation if anyone wants to hear about them-)

the reason malleus is the heir instead is because she didn’t want it. she’d rather do her own thing, and by that i mean go around the world fighting anything worth her time and enjoying her hobbies. she will leave for years at a time without notice and no one will hear anything about her til she teleports into the castle covered in blood dragging whatever she picked up on her adventure behind her. it is extremely unsettling and terrifying. malleus got used to it at a young age so he has grown immune to such sights.

one time she destroyed a whole empire because the ruler had the audacity to keep bothering her with letters begging to marry her. after that she tossed the responsibility of the aftermath to some trusted subordinates before peacing out like two decades. she’s also annihilated multiple nations for the smallest offenses. insult my retainer? everyone in the castle dies. look down on me for being a fae? you get to watch your friends and family be tortured to death. challenge me to a duel in a rude &/or condescending manner? say goodbye to any appendage that allows you to indulge in your favorite pastimes. you try to feel me up without consent? you will be neutered and be awake for the whole procedure. touch my baby brother? we don’t talk about what happens to anyone who does that.

her dragon form is a lot bigger than mal’s but nothing close to their memaw’s size. for reference malleus has canonically said she is much bigger than him.

lilia served under her during a few wars. not once did she lift a finger. the most that she did was patrol a border once or twice. the only thing she was somewhat active in was helping out citizens.

she likes things that are either much smaller or bigger than her. if you are a short king or queen she might take interest in you. but that depends on if she finds you amusing enough. she will put you in her lap and kinda just, toy with you. your face will be squished, hair will be twirled, and head patted. then she’ll leave you alone to do whatever. but you stay in the lap. the lap is where you live now. she will hand feed you. ask for whatever you wish she’ll get it for you. sweets? on the way. books? give the servants 20 minutes. latest game console and games? you might have to do some explaining to the servants but don’t worry you’ll have it before the next hour.

mal is too big to sit in her lap comfortably like he used to but he likes to snuggle close into her side and cuddle. he’ll rest his head on her boob while she does whatever. if his tail is out it is wagging. there have been numerous times someone has made friends with the floor thanks to the force of the wags. he is obsessed with her to the point he’s lowkey a platonic yandere. had certain things been different he absolutely would be. big sister does not like dealing with troublesome people though so that's that.

honestly if you’re unfortunately malleus’ darling and she exists in this universe you 100% be safe. she may not seem like it but she cares a lot about her homeland and how her family acts as they are a big part of it's image.. she has dealt with many yandere’s over her many years of life and knows how suffocating it is with them. she will not think twice about helping you. and if that means she has to beat some sense into her brother than so be it. she is happy to cast a curse that makes it impossible for malleus to be near you or spend years investigating a way to send you home. and if it really comes it she will be the death of her brother. she loves him more than anything but there is no way in hell she is gonna allow him to taint their home and bloodline.

she is nearly 1000 years old. when lilia first saw her he wasn’t even in the double digits of age yet. at that time she was the equivalent of an older teen in fae years. if you ask him what his first impressions were he’ll say that he thought she was awe inspiring and part of the reason he decided to be a soldier. they first met during his training to be a guard. she was sent to survey their progress. lilia will talk fondly about how some big shoots challenged her to spar and got their asses whooped with out her even taking her hands out of her pockets

speaking of pockets she really likes them. if the outfit doesn’t have pockets for her hands it’s unacceptable someone fetch the royal tailor these pants do not suit my tastes. she likes to go clothes shopping for herself others and pets. she has a lot of pets. she has her own castle up in the mountains and a whole section is dedicated to any animals she has picked up. they are the most spoiled animal babies to ever exist. each one has there own room, area to relieve themselves, and food made only with the best ingredients to match their tastes. her favorite baby is a corgi named Jellybean. she loves it so much she placed a spell on it to always be reborn like a phoenix so long as she lives. malleus has a life long one-sided rivalry with this pup. jellybean loves him. the feelings are not mutual.

she always disguises herself when she’s out shopping. y’all thought malleus had it bad when it came to people being terrified of him? ha even dark fae are petrified of big sister. if you read any parts of the story where mob diasomnia members interact with something related to their fae prince you will see they act similarly to sebek and silver. if big sister is in the room they would be acting the same as the majority of the school population does to malleus. she walks into denny’s and within minutes the entire restaurant is cleared. can’t blame them though she actually murdered grandpa draconia cuz he was tainting the family name. while memaw, papa, and mama draconia unconditionally love her even they feared her power to a point. mal is one of the so few the number doesn’t even reach the double digits people that isn’t afraid of the power within. that’s mostly because of his sister complex tho.

back to shopping she prefers to go out and shop for already made clothes. she can be very impatient so if she does need to get something custom made the poor unlucky individual has to literally close shop/put everything else on hold to make her outfit less they get on her bad side. only granny draconia and her late mother were able to get her to put up with this. they’d go as far as to hire the best of the best and have them collaborate to complete the job within a few days to keep her from coming after them. she likes turtlenecks a lot. more likely than not if she’s on an outing she’ll be wearing a turtleneck. same goes for lounge clothes. a perfect go to gift for her. malleus made a self designed matching turtleneck sweaters for her and himself one year for christmas. every year he designs a new pair for them. she has kept every single one, but she’ll never admit to it.

she loves to drag take those she cares about on shopping sprees. if she takes you you are the focus. she does not take multiple people if she can help it and this is her way of saying “I care about you” so suck it up and let her do her thing. you will be woken up before the crack of dawn and won’t make it back home until jesus crispy it’s 2 in the fucking morning please take me home i am about to pass out. on the bright side she will buy you anything you desire, clothes or not, and carry you around if she already isn’t.

do not complain. she does not take kindly to this and this is a way to get kicked from her proclaimed harem. yes she has one but not in a traditional sense.

like dragons in fairy tales she’ll hoard anything she finds interesting. she gets bored easily when something isn’t challenging enough. that’s where living things come into play. as stated before she has a whole section of her castle dedicated to pets. well there is a smaller castle located not far from her main one that is solely for those in her “harem”. it’s not actually a harem harem. just a bunch of people she thinks are amusing that she kinda just, kidnaps whenever she feels like it. of course they all have their own room like the pets but they also each get a personal servant and chef provided by her. (a lot of them are actually the ghosts of people who she killed, they are bound to serve her until she either releases them or dies oof) when malleus took part in the masterchef event he begged her to visit. as the best big sister ever she granted his wish but didn’t join as a judge. she is very aware of others view of her and didn’t want to ruin the other kids fun so she waited until after the event. malleus convinced ruggie to stay and cook too as he wanted the experience to be as close to what the others had. big sis took one look at the yeen and knew immediately he was going to be added to her collection. Malleus can pick up on the subtle changes in her body language easily after years of trailing after her whenever he could. he has complicated emotions about her harem and is very hostile towards the males apart of it in particular. poor ruggie is so confused and terrified for his life why is malleus suddenly glowering at him with smoke coming from his nose and why is his sister staring at him like she wants to eat him. needless to say the kitchen was pretty hot after that. but hey, at least ruggie can mooch off of the seemingly endless money big sister has. (she has expired a small amount big business bosses too for being greedy assholes and taken over their companies instead of destroying them. y’all thought kalim’s was wealthy? ha she makes sunshine child look poor) she has picked up others from NRC too, Riddle and Epel are 2 of them. they are smol angy kids in her eyes and she loves to carry around cute tiny things like them. Idia and Ortho are there too. ortho is a robot with a soul and who is also an adorable mischievous child he is a prime example of her favorite characteristics. idia had fascinating hair and is easy to fluster, another prime example of what she likes.

she does not like Grim. his voice annoys her.

more likely than not she’ll probably like what personification mc has taken on too. mc is probably the only man malleus approves of in the harem if he identifies as such.

this is getting long imma end it here if ya want to know more pop into my inbox i’m more than happy to answer questions

ps i will be posting a nsfw version on my adult blog so if ur interested hop over there-

#malleus draconia #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst malleus #she is the definition of a girlboss #nya rambling

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synchronousemma · 2 years

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1st July: Emma is rebuffed

Read the post and comment on WordPress

Read: Vol. 3, ch. 9 [45]; pp. 256–257 (“and the following morning” to “‘in want of any thing’”).

Context

Emma invites Jane Fairfax to take a drive with her and is refused; she sends some arrow-root, which is sent back.

We know that this occurs “the following morning” (p. 256) after Emma’s first invitation to Jane.

For “arrow-root,” Jane Austen’s original manuscript had “arra-root.” Austen wrote to her sister Cassandra on November 26, 1815: “The Printers continue to supply me very well, I am advanced in vol.3. to my arra-root, upon which peculiar style of spelling, there is a modest qu:ry? [query] in the Margin” (Le Faye, p. 300, qtd. in Sutherland, p. 301). Kathyrn Sutherland writes that “The printed text’s correction to ‘arrow-root’ represents gain and loss—the regularized spelling and so immediate intelligibility, but the loss (now that we know it) of a rare clue to Austen’s own pronunciation. It is important to resist the assumption, however, that she was a consistent misspeller; some of her seemingly idiosyncratic forms were in fact permissible eighteenth-century variants” (pp. 301–2; see also Gilson pp. 64–5; van Ostade p. 130).

Readings and Interpretations

Repent at Leisure

Edgar Shannon Jr., whose reading of Emma is a conventional one according to which Emma must repent of her character flaws and wrongdoings to be morally redeemed by the end of the novel, writes of this incident as evidence that Emma’s “repentance” has begun:

The visit to Miss Bates produces […] evidence of Emma’s sincere alteration. “Her heart had been long growing kinder towards Jane” [vol. 3, ch. 8 [44]; p. 249]; and after Miss Bates’s account of her niece’s ill health, Emma invites Jane to spend the day at Hartfield, to go for an airing in the Woodhouse carriage, and to accept, from the Hartfield stores, some fine arrow-root. When Jane refuses the invitations and returns the arrow-root, Emma learns that a few days of attention cannot compensate several months of neglect; she understands that her former merits the present rebuff. Yet she has “the consolation of knowing her intentions were good” [vol. 3, ch. 9 [45]; p. 257]. (pp. 641–2)

Whatever its motive, Emma’s newfound focus on Jane ends up necessitating ego-saving measures: her reflection (upon learning that Mmes. Elton, Perry, and Cole had been admitted to see Jane) that she “did not want to be classed with the Mrs. Eltons, the Mrs. Perrys, and the Mrs. Coles, who would force themselves anywhere” (p. 256) seems a way of avoiding the realization that she in particular is not welcome. We may also wonder whether Jane’s message (“‘Miss Fairfax’s compliments and thanks, but is quite unequal to any exercise’”) truly represents “tremulous inequality,” or whether it is instead deliberately terse. Helen Dry points out that this sentence must be FID focalized through Emma, due to the hidden dative phrase “for Emma” implied in “impossible to quarrel” (p. 94).

Discussion Questions

Is Emma’s charity regarding the arrow-root an instance of good household management and genuine repentance, or is Emma (as Susan Korba suggests) only interested in Jane now that she (Jane) has been humbled?

Bibliography

Austen, Jane. Emma (Norton Critical Edition). 3rd ed. Ed. Stephen M. Parrish. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, [1815] 2000.

Gilson, David. “Jane Austen’s Text: A Survey of Editions.” The Review of English Studies 53.209 (February 2002), pp. 61–85.

Korba, Susan M. “‘Improper and Dangerous Distinctions’: Female Relationships and Erotic Domination in Emma,” Studies in the Novel 29.2 (1997), pp. 139–63.

Le Faye, Deirdre, ed. Jane Austen’s Letters. New York: Oxford University Press (1995).

Shannon, Edgar F. “Emma: Character and Construction.” PMLA 71.4 (September 1956), pp.

Sutherland, Kathryn. Jane Austen’s Textual Lives: From Aeschylus to Bollywood. Oxford: Oxford University Press (2005).

Van Ostade, Ingrid Tieken-Boon. In Search of Jane Austen: The Language of the Letters. Oxford: Oxford University Press (2014).

#Emma #Jane Austen #Emma Woodhouse #Jane Fairfax #Miss Bates #e

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pearlsoftheparticular · 1 year

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notes on chapter 5

The opening quote (pg 41) by Narayan is from his work "The Guide".

"... tears her into pisces" (pg 41) - This mistake, "pisces" instead of "pieces" comes up multiple times after this. - Fish imagery - Water imagery. Also, if I remember right, the other times that this mistake is made is in Johnny's footnotes or the letters in the back. It is not made in Zampano's text again. Reminds me of pgs 12-16, when Johnny added "Water" to "Water heater" in the manuscript. Does this make the manuscript unreliable, because Johnny has been making edits to it? Should we take typos like "pisces" as Zampano's mistakes and misspellings, or Johnny's?

"Adonta ta Mele" - Her still singing limbs. Translation originates from actual myth. The symbol that follows it is the alchemical symbol for Earth, and is the first of many in this chapter.

"In both cases, unfulfilled love results in the total negation of Echo's body and near negation of her voice." pg 41. But the chapter continues by showing all of the different ways that Echo's voice lives on, in and through other things. Interesting that this is told alongside all of the alchemical symbols, because as stated HERE: "The principle, or underlying, intent of alchemy is then understood as one of making of the body a spirit and of the spirit a body through transmuting the bodily consciousness into spirit and through fixing the spirit in the body." Alchemy and reanimating the dead often go hand in hand, too.

References to Ovid's Metamorphoses - these stories are all about creatures/people/beings in the wrong bodies, being forced into different forms.

Echo quote: the trees/leaves hide a being (pg 42)

The symbol on pg 42 is the astronomical sign for Pluto, the combination of a P and L in honor of Percival Lowell, who published a work called "Memoir on a Trans-Neptunian Planet", after a 10 year search for an as yet unseen planet. (note Neptune, Roman name for Poseidon, more water imagery). Fourteen years after his death, Pluto was discovered.

"To repeat: her voice has life. It possesses a quality not present in the original, revealing how a nymph can return a different and more meaningful story, in spite of telling the same story." (pg 42) - This is followed by a Don Quixote quote in the notes, calling to mind the ref to Dulcinea on pg 17, and the ref to a mother in the quote itself which perhaps brings out Grendel's mother refs again (back to the Mead Hall on pg 21), and foreshadowing to his own. That same note also holds another ref to WWII.

"Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote" is a short story by Jorge Luis Borges. Menard wants to rewrite Cervantes' work by perfectly setting up his life in such a way that the exact same story line and text would come to him naturally, as it did to Cervantes. The fragments that Menard "comes up with" are verbatim to the original text, but he claims they are better, more subtle and inspired, than the original. It was supposed to be satirical, calling out stuck up critics. Funny that Zampano plays along with the joke, acting like Menard really has come up with something original. Though Johnny responds in aggravation, he is doing something similar, as his own living situation and mental state seem to be mirroring Zampano's in the end.

"...or better yet listening to a bitter curse, realizing a whole lot wrong's being ushered into the world but still missing the words,... both written out on brown leaves of paper..." (pg 42)

"This much though I'm sure of: I'm alone in hostile territories with no clue why they're hostile or how to get back to safe havens, an Old Haven, a lost haven, the temperature dropping, the hour heaving & pitching toward a profound darkness, while before me my idiotic amaurotic Guide laughs..." (pg 43) - Heaving & pitching are distinctly marine terms, calling up Rime of the Ancient Mariner again.

Zonules of Zinn (pg 43), otherwise known as ciliary zonules, are the elaborate systems of extra cellular fibers that center the lens of the eyes, bringing distant objects into focus. Named after Johann Gottfried Zinn.

Symbols: first symbol on pg 43 - planetary alchemical symbol for Mars

Second on pg 43 - Planetary alchemical symbol for Mercury

First symbol on pg 44 - Waning moon (pinpoints ebbs and tides, life and death, also known as the sickle of the moon)

Second symbol on pg 44 - Planetary alchemical symbol for Jupiter

Third on pg 44 - Infinity, or Lemniscate, which comes from the Greek word for Ribbons.

Fourth on pg 44 - Planetary alchemical symbol for Omega, symbol for Death, or the End.

"Textual transfiguration" (pg 44)

"Literature's rocky caves" being marked by an omega.

Wordsworth poem ref'd on pg 44 is Ode to Duty.

"He becomes thence... an earthy, weake, worthlesse thing, and fit sacrifize for only eternal oblivion..." (pg 44)

Talaraia (pg 44) - "Of the ankle," referring to Mercury's winged sandals.

Occludes (pg 45): stop, close up, or obstruct (an opening, orifice, or passage).

Pgs 45-46 are spent discussing a typo in a poem: "cares" vs "caves" in relation to Echo.

""I beleive that sky opens & closes on certain periods..." (pg 46, footnote 59. Typo added by editor, not Johnny.

"Ironically, hollowness only increases the eerie quality of otherness inherent in any echo." (pg 46) This brings to mind Heidegger's unheimlich from previous chapter, the "uncanny", which also brings up Uncanny Valley vibes, especially in this context.

"Divinity seems defined by echo." (pg 46)

"...the hallowed always seems to abide in the province of the hollow." (pg 46)

The symbol that appears on pg 47 is the planetary alchemical symbol for the Sun. So, his formula reads:

(Sun) Sound + Time = Acoustic Light

"... his own creature darkness, taking me completely by surprise, a sudden protracting, and just so you understand where I'm coming from, I consider "... long past midnight" one claw and "empty hallways" another. (pg 48)

"Or even an ancient Samuel O'Reilly @ 1891..." (pg 48) Samuel O'Reilly patented the first electric tattoo machine on Dec. 8, 1891.

"Bars of an EKG" (pg 48) - EKG, Electrocardiogram. Records signals from the heart to check for different heart conditions.

"QRS complex" (pg 48) is the combination of 3 of the graphical deflections seen on a typical EKG.

"... The failure which began it all in the first place, probably right after one burning maze but still years ahead of the other loss, a horrible violence, before the coming of that great Whale... Spanish gold..." (pg 48)

"Sleep... that bloody handmaiden..." (pg 49)

Truant: A student who stays away from school without leave or explanation." from Middle English, referring to a person begging through choice rather than necessity. Or, Scottish Gaelic: wretched.

"...confined to the sharp oscillations of yellow and blue..." (pg 49) There is an uptick in color being noted from here through the rest of the chapter. Best guess on this one: Yellow = maize (corn/maze/land) Blue = water (pisces, Neptune, sea)

"Of course, Lude didn't see it. He was blind. Maybe even right." (pg 49) Further proof of Lude being Johnny's Virgil.

The entirety of footnote 62 is a doozy, but not much is written on it. General consensus seems to be that it is all about Johnny's traumas, which is definitely fleshed out in Appendix II-C and the Whalestoe letters later.

"At least the next step was clear.//Some act of violence would be necessary.// And so it was that before another synapse could fire within my bad-off labyrinthine brain, he was already lying on the floor." (pg 52) - Should we take these "visions"as daydreams, or hallucinations?

Colors from 51: Cinnabar: bright red mineral consisting of mercury sulfide. It is the only important ore of mercury and is sometimes used as a pigment.

Lemon.

Celadon: a willow-green

Indigo.

(red, yellow, green, blue, like the keys later on in the chapter).

"...Out of nowhere. Out of the blue." - pg 52

"I love how enthralled she remains by this festival of living." (pg 54)

"...always talking blue streak to my boss..." (pg 54)

"...For this year's ruling April fool." (pg 54) maybe no actual relation but calls to mind the Fool from the Tarot deck, who is seen as the "main character" on a journey of self enlightenment.

"...a goddamn spatial rape." (pg 55) Brings to mind Greek mythology, Zeus, especially Ovid's Metamorphoses.

"Karen is upstairs, sitting on the bed playing with a deck of tarot cards..." (pg. 56) Not so off base with the Fool theory from pg 54 then?

"Karen spent every night of her fourteenth year composing that smile in front of a blue plastic handled mirror." (pg 58) Blue again

Aphonia: loss of ability to speak through disease of or damage to the larynx or mouth.

Pyritic - a brass colored mineral... also called Fool's Gold

pg 58-59 shows Navidson avoiding his and Karen's trauma. Perhaps their avoidance of their traumas and focus on the House simply transfers/gives power to those traumas, and the House reflects that.

"Karen's attacks, which I suspect stem from early adolescent betrayal, increase proportionally with the level of intimacy - or even the threat of potential intimacy - she experiences with Will Navidson or even her children." (pg 59)

"The ensuing tension is more than temporary." (pg 10)

"The bad bodhi wall." From footnote 72 on pg 60 - Bodhi is a fig tree considered sacred in Buddhist practice. Cont. tree imagery. Also, descriptions of the ill will exuding from the walls include the word "oily", which is not the last time in this chapter that word is used.

"Unfortunately, as he twists the last key, the accompanying sound contains a familiar ring. He grips the red kye and tries it again. As the dead bolt glances the strike plate, the resulting click creates an unexpected and very unwelcome echo." (pg 61) - could the typos be related to when the House gains strength, as it defies reason/structure such as proper language?

"Blue seracs" (pg 68) Blue again.

Margaretha Geertruida Zelle. (pg 69)She was a Dutch exotic dancer and courtesan who was convicted of being a spy for Germany during WWI and executed by firing squad in France. Her name has become synonymous of the seductive female spy. Also went by Mata Hari.

Moither: (Yorkshire) bother or harass (UK) toil, labour, perplex, confuse. (70)

Black and purple (pg 70). Reference back to pg 26, list of colors includes lilac, mauve (purples), and pelican black (pelicans will come significant later), in addition to rootbeer (will come significant later), midnight blue, south sea green, maize (yellow), and cochineal (red)

"Dis(as)embling...." (pg 71) Odd phrasing.

"What wail embattled break." (pg 71) - Whale.

"Another Maldon or no Maldon at all" - The Battle of Maldon in Essex, in 991 AD

"... The already foreseen dissolution of the self." (pg 72) - Reference to his mother?

"My face has been splattered with purple... preserving me." (pg 72)

"...in the spirit of the dark; in the spirit of the staircase - "Known some call is air am." Which is to say - "I am not what I used to be." (pg 72)

We have hit a significant moment. The monster from the story seemed able to physically mar Johnny in the present. He has seemingly changed moving into the future. And we are invited now into his past.

"...Daisy, wearing a red and gold dress, barges in and begins tugging on her father's sleeve." (pg 73) Red and Gold significance?

Neologism: newly coined word or expression.

Selah.

#house of leaves #mark z danielewski #mzd #hol

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years

Text

Dear Heart - Chapter 3

Dick Winters x Melanie Davis

Summary: Melanie Davis is a nurse from North Carolina who has lived a sheltered life since her father died. Her father’s best friend, Colonel Sink, invites her to experience more as a regimental nurse for the 506th PIR of the 101st Airborne. She embarks on the adventure of a lifetime.

Tag list: @easy-company-tradition If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy the update!

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3 here we go!

England was unlike anything Melanie had ever seen. Of course, she had never been out of the country before. It was cloudier than she was used to, but she oddly enjoyed it. Aldbourne was quaint, like Toccoa, only with a much richer history. Camp Toccoa was new and fresh. Aldbourne was old and lived in.

The best part of Aldbourne for her was the weather. It was refreshing to experience the cool English autumn after years in the humidity of the American South. She had even teased Dick once for his aversion to the heat. So Aldbourne would be pleasant for them both.

The paratroopers had a ton of training they had to complete while in Aldbourne to prepare for the invasion of German occupied France. In the evenings, Melanie had dinner with Dick. Nixon joined them fairly often, but sometimes he was busy up at battalion. Those were her favorite nights, where it was just her and Dick, talking together. She relished these precious moments with him. She didn’t know when they might come to an end.

She didn’t even mind that he usually had something to say about Sobel. She appreciated Dick being so honest with her. It was rare for him to speak so frankly, especially when it was something unpleasant.

“It makes me nervous,” Dick said. “His combat inability is harmless now, but we could be faced with the real thing any time. He could get a lot of men killed.”

“Is there anything you can do?” she asked. “I know he’s not an easy man to be reasoned with.”

“It’s not just difficult, it’s impossible,” he returned. “He’s too stubborn to take someone else’s advice when he’s in the field and unsure. And there’s no talking to him outside of training when he has the most control.”

“Have you thought about going to Colonel Sink?” she wondered.

“If I go over his head, it’s not a good look for Easy or for me,” he explained. “Not to mention, Easy’s so well trained, it’d be hard to convince Colonel Sink that anything is wrong.”

“It just seems brutally unfair for you all to have to go to combat with someone incompetent,” she said. “Because you’re right, it could mean life or death for you all.”

“It is unfair,” he agreed. “But I guess all we can do is rely on our platoon leaders and NCOs. They’re who’s really keeping Easy together anyway.”

She considered all this as she chewed and then swallowed.

“Would you like me to speak to Colonel Sink?” she offered.

She had done it once before but wondered if he’d change his mind since the stakes were higher now.

He smiled. “That’s kind of you, Melanie, but it feels too sneaky. Like I’m still going over his head, just in a roundabout, less ethical way.”

“I understand,” she said. “I just wish I could help somehow.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he said. “But you are helping. Just by listening.”

“You can talk to me any time,” she assured him. “About anything.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s one of the things I like most about you.”

She felt heat rise to her cheeks, and she looked down at her plate to hide it. Dick actually liked when she blushed. It always struck him in those moments how beautiful she was to him. A thought which gave him both a rush and a jolt of nerves.

He was being honest, though. He trusted her almost as much as he trusted Nixon. In fact, the only thing he confided in Nix that he didn’t say to her was his feelings for her.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Dick always walked her home. They were quartered with families who were neighbors, so it was convenient, but she had the impression he would have walked her home even if she was staying on the other side of the village. She just soaked it all in as extra time with the man who was quickly becoming her favorite person.

Autumn turned to winter, and then spring. Things with Sobel were not improving, and Melanie could sense Dick’s frustration growing. Every day it seemed there was something else that went wrong and the company’s morale was affected now.

One afternoon, she had a rare moment of down time with Dick. He and Nix were standing outside while Nix smoked a cigarette, so she joined them. After exchanging greetings, a jeep pulled up, disrupting the basketball game going on in the street. Sergeant Evans emerged from it and walked up to the trio off to the side. He looked grimly serious.

“Lieutenant Winters,” Evans said, and they all exchanged salutes. Then he held out a letter. “With Captain Sobel’s compliments, sir.”

Dick glanced between Evans and the letter before taking it. They saluted again before Evans stalked back over to the jeep. He climbed back into the passenger seat and they pulled off. Melanie, Dick, and Nixon watched him go.

“Well, what does it say?” she asked, nodding toward the piece of paper.

Dick opened it and she and Nix leaned over his shoulders to see. She was shocked by what she read, but Nix released a small chuckle.

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud,” Dick muttered.

“Misspelled court martial,” Nix pointed out.

Dick crumpled the paper and she gazed up at him, mouth agape with disbelief.

He left to confront Sobel about the incident with latrine duty, and she just stared at Nixon.

“This can’t be real,” she said. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s Sobel,” Nix said. “Anything is possible.”

“I should go with him,” she said hesitantly. “I’ve got a feeling this is going to be...dramatic.”

“He’ll want you close by then,” he returned with a smile.

She nodded, said a quick goodbye, and then followed Dick to battalion HQ. Sobel’s voice echoed from the stairs, so she followed it. She spotted Dick’s frame disappearing to the second floor. She continued after them, keeping a safe distance. She stopped outside the office, to the left of the doorway, and listened.

“My endorsement, sir,” she heard Dick say. “I request trial by court martial.”

She bit back a gasp. Dick was a man of principle, though, and she admired him for standing up to Sobel at this injustice. Dick halted outside the office when he spotted Melanie there. He almost smiled since she was just the person he was going to see.

“Did you hear?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m sorry. Are you worried?”

He glanced around the hallway before nodding slowly. She held his gaze and they just shared a look for a long moment. Then, they both sighed and embraced each other. They stood there, wrapped up in each other’s arms and held on tight. What was coming next didn’t seem so bad from where they were standing now.

Dick was transferred to battalion mess while the court martial proceedings went on. Melanie knew it was killing him because the invasion was so close, and if things continued this way, he could miss it. Which left the company only in the hands of Sobel. Dangerous was the only word for it. She couldn’t take it anymore, so she decided to go to Colonel Sink herself. Even though Dick didn’t like the idea, she couldn’t allow this.

She had known Colonel Sink her whole life, and now as she stood outside his office door, she felt her stomach twist with nerves. It wasn’t really her place to have an opinion on the management of Easy Company, and he could chew her out for speaking out of turn. But she had to do this. For Dick and the rest of the men. After all, she was the battalion nurse, and this was in the best interest for an important part of the battalion.

She knocked softly on the door.

“Come in,” said the familiar voice on the other side of it.

She took a deep breath and pushed it open. He looked up from his paperwork and grinned at her.

“Melanie, how are you?” he asked.

“Very well, sir,” she said. “But there is something I wanted to discuss with you.”

“What is it?” he wondered.

“Well, it’s about Di - I mean, Lieutenant Winters’ court martial,” she said, and she watched his smile flip upside down. “I know it isn’t really my business, but -”

“You’re right, it’s not,” he cut across her.

She bit her lip and looked at the floor, regretting her decision already. She opened her mouth to apologize and dismiss herself, but he continued.

“As it is, though, I value your opinion. So tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Really?” she gasped.

He nodded. “Yes, really.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said excitedly. “First, I want you to know how serious this is. From what I understand after my talks with Di - I mean, Lieutenant Winters - is that Captain Sobel’s strength is not combat strategy.”

“Winters has spoken to you about this?” he questioned, brow furrowing.

“Here and there,” she said, grossly underplaying how much Dick had confided in her. “I hear some things from the NCOs as well.”

“I see,” he said. “And what have you derived from all this?”

“They don’t want to go to war with Captain Sobel, sir,” she said. “They’re afraid his lack of ability will get many of them killed, and put unnecessary stress on the platoon leaders, especially without Lieutenant Winters.”

Sink leaned back into his chair and scratched his chin.

“This isn’t to say that Captain Sobel is a poor leader,” she went on, fearing she had lost Sink’s interest in the matter. “He’s trained Easy Company to be the best in the regiment. So, I think - from what I’ve been told - his strength lies in that training.”

“I know Sobel has had his moments,” Sink said. “But to take his company away from him...it seems drastic. The men can’t be so opposed to him that -”

At that moment, there was another knock at the door.

“Hold that thought, sweetheart,” Sink said. “Come in!”

The door creaked open and all the NCOs from Easy Company entered the office. Each held in his hand, a written note. Melanie looked between them and the colonel, anxious.

“What’s all this?” Sink asked.

Sergeant Lipton stepped forward, collected the notes, and placed them on the desk. She caught a glimpse of what they said.

“Our resignations, sir,” Lipton said.

Sink’s eyes went wide. Melanie clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. Sink looked down at the papers then back up at the men. She looked on with bated breath. He glanced this way several times, as if to confirm he was not imagining what was in front of him.

“Melanie, am I dreaming or is this really happening?” he asked.

“I’m afraid it’s really happening, sir,” she said. “But I hope you realize now just how important drastic action is.”

His face hardened and he scowled.

“I ought to have you all shot,” he snapped. “This is nothing less than an act of mutiny while we prepare for the goddamn invasion of Europe.”

She observed, astounded, as he dismissed Sergeant Harris from the regiment. He busted Ranney down to private, and proceeded to shame the remaining sergeants as disgraces to the Airborne, and reminded them that if the invasion of Europe was not imminent, they’d be facing a lot worse than this.

“Now, get out of my office and out of my sight,” he demanded.

They saluted, which he did not acknowledge.

“Get!”

They filed out of the office and she caught Lipton’s eye. He offered a short nod, and she understood that they had risked it all for Dick. When they were all gone and the door was closed again, Sink heaved a sigh.

“This really is bad, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“I need some time to think about this,” he said, standing up. He went and opened the door. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course,” she agreed, and started to leave.

He stopped her right at the door and she faced him with an inquiring expression. He only smiled half heartedly and gave her cheek a paternal pinch. She smiled gently.

With that, she left him. She felt silly now for going there at all. If she’d known that NCOs were planning such a statement, she would have just let them make it. But she hoped that it was her and the men who had swayed Colonel Sink. She walked outside and saw the NCOs cutting a salute to Dick as they passed him.

He spotted her and smiled, which she returned. She approached him.

“What’s all that about?” he asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” she told him.

The following evening, Sink asked that Melanie come and have dinner with him. As she headed up to his office, she saw Sobel storming down the corridor. He glared fiercely at her and halted. She did the same, facing him.

“You had something to do with this, didn’t you?” he demanded.

“With what?” she wondered.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“You wanna play innocent, that’s fine,” he spat. “But congratulations, you and your precious Dick are getting exactly what you wanted.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she returned levelly.

He stepped closer to her, towering over her, but she didn’t shrink away.

“You lost me my company,” he hissed.

“You don’t frighten me, Captain Sobel,” she said, hoping he believed her. “As for your company, you did a perfectly fine job of losing it yourself.”

She sounded braver than she felt. Her heart was pounding, and she could feel beads of sweat forming on the back of her neck. To speak that way to a man was unprecedented for her.

“It won’t make him love you, you know,” he sneered.

“You’re wrong again,” she said, knowing exactly who he meant. “Nothing I do is with the intention of earning the love of Richard Winters. He’s a man I could never even hope to deserve.”

He blinked, taken aback by the statement. But she meant every word.

“Good evening, Captain,” she said coolly, and then swept away.

Despite the tension with Sobel, she had a pleasant dinner with Colonel Sink. He asked if she had heard from her mother, and she said she hadn’t yet, and the colonel admitted she was shunning him too. They shared a melancholy sort of laugh about it. After the meal, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Sink said.

“Good evening, sir,” said Dick as he entered, offering a salute.

Sink returned it.

“How can I help you, Dick?” he asked.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could walk Melanie home,” he said. “I’d hate to disturb our routine anymore.”

She beamed. “Thank you, I’d like that.”

“Well, we’re all finished here, if you’re ready to go,” Sink said. “Thanks for looking out for her, Dick, it means a lot.”

“I’m happy to do it, sir,” Dick replied.

“Good night, Colonel,” she said to Sink. “I hope we can sit down together again soon.”

“Me too,” Sink said.

He pecked her on the cheek and said good night, and then she left with Dick. As they headed out into the cool night, she looked up at her companion and smiled again.

“So, I guess you heard about Sobel,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “You did too?”

“Yep,” he said. “I think the company’s having a party if you’d like to join.”

She chuckled. “No thank you. I much prefer where I am.”

He smiled that bashful smile of his, which always melted her heart so much she was shocked she didn’t just turn into a puddle and soak into the earth.

“Sink didn’t happen to share with you who’ll be taking Sobel’s place did he?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact, he did,” she said. “Lieutenant Meehan from Baker Company, I believe.”

“I don’t know much about him,” he said with a slight frown.

“Well, it can’t get any worse than Sobel, can it?” she returned, but immediately felt guilty. “Oh, that’s a nasty thing to say, I -”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said. “This whole business has been pretty nasty.”

“Have you been reinstated as Easy’s XO?” she asked.

“I have,” he said. “And I suppose I partly have you to thank.”

“Oh, Dick, how you do run on,” she said. “I did speak to Colonel Sink about my own concerns, but it was the actions of the noncoms that sealed the deal. Turns out they are absolutely loyal to you.”

“Or they just really hate Sobel,” he joked.

She chuckled again. “That could also be the case.”

She shivered as a chilly breeze rolled through, and she subconsciously moved closer to him. He offered his arm, which she took. Just holding onto him, bodies pressed together, helped with warmth. But she always felt a bit warm around him.

As they walked together, they chatted some more, eventually reaching subjects other than Sobel. They shared a few laughs and even some peaceful quiet as they reached the house. They came to a slow stop in front of her door.

“Well, goodnight, Dick,” she said.

“Goodnight,” he returned.

This time, there was no hesitation before she hugged him. He seemed a little surprised, but soon eased into her and wrapped his arms around her waist. It was so safe there, she hated to let go.

They grinned at each other as they both pulled away, and said goodnight again. Then, to her dismay, she went into the house to head to bed.

Dick remained on the street and watched her bedroom window until the light flicked on. He saw her silhouette flit back and forth across the room as she changed and let her hair down. He stayed there until her light went off again, and he pictured her crawling comfortably into her bed. Only then, knowing she was safe and secure, did he go in.

***

Upottery was fairly similar to Aldbourne, only with fewer buildings. The Army set up a camp there, with tents scattered throughout the main field to house everyone. Luckily, the weather was warm enough.

The invasion was so close now. Melanie had no idea when it would actually take place, but she had heard the plan several times already. The paratroopers would jump behind enemy lines and then have to clear the way for the Navy who would be landing on the two beaches - Utah and Omaha. It made her incredibly nervous because she would be separated from the regiment during the invasion. Her job was to go in with the rest of the Army Nurse Corps and set up aid stations.

One morning, she had her coffee by the sand tables and looked over them for what had to be the millionth time. She knew her part, but she wanted to remember exactly where Dick and the rest of the 506th would be. Dick found her there by herself.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you really studying before breakfast?”

She nodded. “I couldn’t really eat anyway. I just keep thinking about this and how...big it all seems.”

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Of course, I’d be a fool not to be,” she said. “But it’s you all I’m worried about most.”

“We all have our part to play,” he said. “Just focus on your task at hand and -”

“Don’t, please,” she cut across him. “You’re entirely too logical for me just now.”

He chuckled, but it stung him a little. Did she really think him unemotional? He tried to maintain his composure for the men, and for her, but he never wanted to give the impression that he didn’t care.

“What would you like me to do?” he wondered.

“Lie to me,” she said, and he appreciated her honesty. “Just once, lie to me and tell me everything is going to be alright.”

He stepped closer to her and she rested her head against his shoulder. He put an arm around her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Everything’s gonna be alright,” he said.

She hummed happily. “Thank you.”

She finally got the news that the big day was to be June 5th. On that day, she went to the field before she was scheduled to join the other nurses. She walked among the men and offered hugs and words of encouragement, especially to the ones she was particularly close to. Most of it was Easy Company.

“If you’re looking for Winters, he’s up with first platoon,” Guarnere told her as she wrapped up with him. “I’m sure he’d love to see ya.”

“Thanks, Bill,” she returned. “Take care of yourself.”

“You know I will, sweetheart,” he assured her, patting her arm.

She found first platoon quickly and spoke to each of the men. Finally, she spotted Dick. He offered a kind smile as she approached him.

“Dick, I…” she trailed off.

She had no words to express what he meant to her, so she threw herself into his arms. He caught her and held her, stroking her hair tenderly. She swallowed the lump in her throat as her heart began to sink. What if this was the last time?

Dick was thinking the thing. So he held her as long as he could, committing to memory the feeling of her, the way she smelled, and the sound of her voice.

She sniffled as she pulled away.

“I, uh, brought something for you,” she said.

“You did?”

“Yes,” she said, reaching into her pocket. She retrieved a small, velvet box, which she opened and held out to him.

“A pocket watch?” he questioned, taking it carefully out and holding it up in front of him.

It was a fine, old fashioned, gold one. The initials JFD were engraved on the front, for Jesse Franklin Davis.

“It was my father’s,” she explained. “It always brought him luck. The only day he didn’t have it was the day he...well, you know.”

A softness came over his eyes that might have made her burst into tears if she wasn’t already trying so hard to keep it together.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I can’t take it, though, it’s too valuable.”

He tried to hand it back, but she only took his hand and curled his fingers around it.

“Please,” she said. “Consider it a loan. You may give it back only when we have found each other again.”

He looked happily at where her hand was atop his and then back up at her face.

“I’ll cherish it,” he said.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip so he wouldn’t see it trembling. He pulled her into one more embrace. When they parted, she swore she felt her heart cracking.

“Good luck, Dick,” she choked out.

He cupped her cheek in his free hand. She closed her eyes to his touch. A tear leaked out of her eye and he wiped it away with his thumb.

“Melanie,” he said, and she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “I will return it to you.”

She attempted a watery smile. “I know you will.”

Several yards away, most of the company had gathered to watch, though they couldn’t hear what Melanie or Dick were saying.

“He’s gonna kiss her,” Buck said. “He’s got to. Look at that.”

“Nah, he won’t,” Guarnere added. “He ain’t that kind of man.”

“I dunno, Guarno,” Toye said. “I’m with Buck, it’s looking like he might finally get the balls.”

“Oh, shit, guys!” Malarkey gasped. “His hand is on her cheek. The hand. Is on. The cheek.”

“He’s not even leanin’ in though, look,” Guarnere argued. “He ain’t gonna kiss her.”

“Five bucks says he kisses her,” Buck said.

“You’re on,” Guarnere replied, and they shook on it.

Lipton approached looking concerned.

“What are all of you doing over here?” he wondered.

“We’re waiting to see if Winters is finally gonna kiss Melanie,” Skip explained. “Buck and Bill have placed bets.”

Lipton glanced over at her and Dick and then back at the men.

“He’s not gonna kiss her, Winters isn’t that kind of guy,” he said.

“Wanna get in on the bet, Lip?” Guarnere offered.

Lip sighed and shook his head.

“Does it count if he kisses her cheek or something?” Malarkey wondered.

“No, we’re talking a full on lip kiss,” Buck said. “Oh, look!”

They all turned eyes on Melanie and Dick and watched. He was leaning toward her, and for a moment, even she thought he might kiss her, but then he leaned back on his heels. They whispered their final goodbyes. And then, chest tightening, she turned away from him and walked toward the jeep that was waiting for her.

“Damn,” Buck sighed.

“Told you, fellas,” Guarnere gloated as he collected his winnings. “Winters ain’t the kissing kind.”

Dick watched the jeep disappear into the countryside, doubting himself for the first time. He tucked the pocket watch away inside his jacket. Right next to his heart.

That night, after the jump was cancelled, and he stood outside with Nix, he pressed his hand over it and thought of Melanie. He was carrying her with him, no matter when or where he jumped.

#dick winters #richard winters imagine #dick winters x ofc #band of brothers #melanie jo davis #dear heart series

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sugarcomatosed · 3 years

Note

i love your stories so much!! and was wondering if you can give some writing tips perhaps? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Breaking this up into sections for you + putting it under a cut cause I went overboard. 😅

General Writing Tips

These work for both academic and creative writing.

Make an outline.

It doesn't have to be a formal one, but having at least a general idea of the scenes you want to include is helpful. If I know my fic is going to be a longer one (like Don't Hesitate was and my current WIP is), I break down the larger story beats i want to hit on a piece of paper or my iPad.

It's good to know what you're planning to do, in a any piece I usually have a single specific scene I want to do and depending on what it is, I might either just do the scene I want to or turn into something longer.

Draft, draft, draft.

I cannot stress the importance of going through and reviewing your work. This is a big part of any sort of writing.

Your first idea isn't always your best idea. As you work on a piece you might find your original idea is holding you back, focus shifts! Don't be afraid to let your work change as you go. It's not always easy to let go of your original idea but if you find it's not working, you have to let it change. Sections will need to be rewritten, things have to be readjusted to fit with later sections. Reread for clarity while you're drafting and look to see if this makes sense to you, or reads well to you. If you can't follow it and you wrote it, chances are your reader can't either. Did you use the same phrase again and again? Find and search it on your doc to double check.

Sometimes you have to cut things you really like because they just don't contribute to the fic anymore. Save those bits and use them somewhere else!In a lot of my longer pieces I will write a paragraph, realize that's not where it should go and cut/paste it into another part of the doc because the pacing/scene doesn't make sense where I had it originally, but it works somewhere else.

If you're stuck, skip around, come back and then stitch the bits you have written together.

Don't Focus on a Word Count

This might be controversial, but I'm of the opinion just because something is longer does not make it better. Some works are short, and that's okay! I very rarely try to aim for a specific count of words unless it's for a prompt exchange or a personal challenge. I write till I feel the piece is done. Some stories require more words, some require less.

Don't Hesitate is a great example of this again, because all I wanted to do was a bittersweet first kiss fic, but jumping write into the kiss wouldn't get the full effect I wanted. Meanwhile, with Old Habits all I wanted to do was write dumb comedic kisses, we didn't need a 2k preamble.

Get Someone You Trust to Edit

My go to editor for the past six years or so is one of my good friends. She has edited everything from college papers to my fics for me before I post them to read for clarity, find any funky phrases or misspelled words I missed, and I do the same for her when she asks! A fresh set of eyes makes a world of a difference. Find someone to trade fics with or ask a friend! They might have good suggestions you never thought of, or be able to tell what you were going for when you don't even know yourself.

I also rely on my friends a lot to brainstorm and talk my ideas out before I start because it helps me think and figure out what I need. It's super common for me to text someone and say "im gonna spitball at you, that okay?" and then spend twenty minutes chatting through my ideas.

Have Reference Material

For my 13sar fics, I regularly go back and review/screenshot videos of the dialogue to make sure I am staying consistent with story events, character nuance and small details. You don't have to go crazy, but it is really helpful to have your source material to go back to and check yourself against. In non creative writing I always had a pile of papers highlighted with my own notes on the margins.

Take Breaks/Pace Yourself

Know your own limits, and if you are working and working on something and it's not coming out leave it alone and come back to it. I'm really bad at this personally because when I get an idea in my head I want to see it through but sometimes you gotta step back! It's not healthy to keep working on things and overwork yourself. Stretch, get up go for a walk.

Write What You Want to Write

Don't focus on what people want to read. Focus on what you like. Find a topic, a scene, anything that you are passionate about and the rest will follow. The only time I write fic for other people is when I am writing for a friend. Even prompt requests I only take open ended ones, if I am not interested in writing it it's not gonna happen. I know it's super hard and I get really anxious sometimes about letting people down now, or worrying people won't like something but then I step back and remind myself this is a hobby and I'm doing it for fun.

Play to Your Strengths

You shouldn't try to write like me, you should try to write like yourself. Find what skills you have and use them to your advantage!

I can't give you a step by step list to write like me, because nobody in the world has my background! We're all unique. Everything I've listed so far I know because I'm not a beginner anymore! I'm in my twenties and have come from a strong academic writing background.

I took on an intensive course load in high school, and then went onto college for a sociology degree. I very rarely had test based finals and at the end of each semester would have five 10-15 page papers to submit. Straight up some of my skills come from having read and studied the works of anthropologist Clifford Geertz. I am not saying you should read anthropology/sociology texts. Unless you like that sort of thing lol

I also have 6+ years of theater experience (acting & directing), I use this all the time for my writing. When I think about a scene, I think about how I would work through it as an actor, how the character would move, and how would things read to an audience. The GOTE ("Goal, Obstacle, Tactics, and Expectation") method of acting by Robert Cohen is really useful hear if you want a more technical breakdown of what I mean by that.

This leads to a lot of what we called "business" in acting, doing small tiny things while you talk or move around on stage to give the sense you're a real human. I don't have to think or try on these sort of things because they're in my skill set already!

Things I do Personally

As in, these are not transferable skills this is just the stuff I do while working on projects.

Find a Vibe™️

I come into any fic with usually a goal I want to hit, a line of dialogue or something I want to capture. Just like, the general idea of a feeling a song even if the lyrics don't match up. Make a mood-board, a playlist, just find something you wanna do. It's less about the actual words on the page and what you're aiming to do.

Look to things that inspire you

Don't Hesitate got written because I wanted to write a fic that captured the same vibe as a scene in Macross Frontier, where two characters have a bittersweet kiss before the final battle and that scene still has me fucked up six years after watching it.

My current WIP is doing the same thing but with the song All I've Ever Known from Hadestown. Two characters working through loneliness, the sudden feeling of falling in love and the frustration that feeling can bring on sometime.

I don't plagiarize them word for word, but these are scenes that inspire me! I also patchwork quilt ideas together. Using Don't Hesitate again, I also ended up pulling from a bunch of shoujo anime, Toradora, Sailor Moon, Yona of the Dawn, Princess Tutu...specific scenes I enjoy to blend and create something new.

Goof Off While You Write

I name my documents stupid things, I write dumb placeholder dialogue or vague sentiments like "insert better word here", I make memes when I'm struggling and roast myself and my predictable tastes.

I spent twenty minutes texting a friend Juro's name with different letters spelt out and then the "fuck your chickenstrips" vine saying it was Juro during destruction. Just have fun with it!

Listen to J-POP On Loop for Hours at a Time

i am not kidding I do this all the time. Perfume, AKB48, anime idol osts, Sailor Moon's OPs/ED, vocaloid songs. I like technopop and Japanese is good because it usually doesn't distract my brain since I only know random phrases, but still know what the meaning og the song is.

I love music, it helps me vibe out.

Thank you so much for enjoying my work ;o;

I hope this is useful to you in some way! I'm so sorry it's so long winded but I am overly thorough and love to teach people ;w;

#sugar speaks #sugar writes #okay to reblog

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thelarryficrecplace · 4 years

Text

Larry Fics Masterpost - Christmas Edition 2019

Merry Christmas people!! It’s this time of the year again! Following my previous masterpost, I’ve decided to make an updated one!

Here’s some more of my absolutely favourite Christmas fics:

Home for the Holly Days by LadyLondonderry:

Summary: Or, Louis’s participating in the Secret Santa exchange between all the Hogwarts professors stuck at school over the winter holidays, and the Sorting Hat may fancy itself a bit of a matchmaker.

Word count: 2,421

Do Not Falter (There's a Star Ahead) by LadyLondonderry:

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and every single one of Louis' family members are crowded inside his little flat. Really, what more could he ask for on his birthday?

The present he never knew he wanted - in the form of an omega from his past - might just make this his most memorable Christmas.

Word count: 2,853

You Should Be Here With Me by dimpled_halo:

Summary: Louis is finishing the last touches of his outfit when the doorbell chimes downstairs. He freezes midway through buttoning his shirt. Again, if he’d known what was going to happen today he’d have brought a better outfit, but it’s whatever. He holds his breath, hearing as the door is opened and some murmurs Louis can’t quite make out. He doesn’t miss the deep rumble of Harry’s voice. Louis may not be able to understand what is being said from up here, but that deep voice is unmistakable. It sends shivers through his body.

Louis is home for the holidays and doesn't expect his mum to invite his ex and his family over for Christmas. All the feelings he's had bottled up since breaking up with Harry before going to uni come back in full force.

Word count: 3,000

Snowdrops and Mice Pops by OhHarold:

Summary: The boys are stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas incapable of taking the Hogwarts Express back to London. A botched together friends Christmas would have to do.

Word count: 3,300

Make The Yuletide Gay by hollytabatha:

Summary: Louis has a disdain for Christmas songs and ugly Christmas sweaters, but maybe spending a night with Harry will change that for good.

Word count: 3,411

One Week, Eight Hours by daggerinrose:

Summary: or: a production assistant with no experience in front of a camera interviews a rockstar with old shoes and a distasteful attitude.

Word count: 3,560

Unto You by LadyLondonderry:

Summary: Louis is a lamplighter celebrating the saturnalia season in his own way.Harry is heavily pregnant and new in the city.The holiday of Christmas is yet to be created.

Word count: 3,671

pull your-elf together by EmmyLouWho:

Summary: Or: Santa's Winter Wonderland is a great place to fall in love.

Word count: 3,947

Santa's Lap by larryatendoftheday:

Summary: A Christmas story about unexpected gifts, featuring Harry as a mall Santa and Louis as a great big brother.

Word count: 4,227

Is that a candy cane in your pocket? by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie):

Summary: Louis accuses Harry of shoplifting. Harry was definitely not shoplifting.

They work it out.

Word count: 4,868

i'll be yours for christmas by rina_a:

Summary: My family invited you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry.

Word count: 4,874

since we've no place to go (let it snow) by midnights:

Summary: ft. harry flaunting his cooking skills, crying at classic christmas movies, and a dog named george bailey.

Word count: 4,759

Set Your Heart A-Whirl by QuickedWeen:

Summary: Harry comes home for his family's big Christmas party and learns something surprising about his past.

Word count: 4,975

In this light (I fell for you) by Larryfissure:

Summary: Christmas AU where Harry is going to perform his very first concert and Louis is his mute (and very supportive) boyfriend. Also lots of kittens, bad puns and boyfriends being cute.

Word count: 5,334

Sympathy For The Devil by taggiecb:

Summary: Or the one with Santa Harry and Satan Louis and a series of misspelled letters to Santa.

Word count: 5,412

I'll Wait Up For You, Dear by dimpled_halo:

Summary: After not being able to afford to go home for the holidays, Louis is resigned to spend Christmas alone. When he stumbles upon his neighbor, Harry, he realizes he might not be so lonely after all.

Word count: 5,753

I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm by haloeverlasting:

Summary: Or, Louis' heat is out, Harry's a terrible upstairs neighbor, and an empty Christmas tree is the perfect excuse to fall in love.

Word count: 7,477

You're Never Alone with a Moon this Bright by HelloAmHere:

Summary: Louis was a monster. But sometimes, even monsters get a Christmas.

Word count: 7,619

Rated R by cherrystreet:

Summary: Louis gifts Harry with a surprise sex tape, and it accidentally makes its way into Harry's family Christmas party. Ridiculousness ensues.

Word count: 7,635

A Story For the Ages by FallingLikeThis:

Summary: He should have known it was coming. After seven months of pretending to have a boyfriend in order to keep his mum from meddling in his love life again, he should have realized he’d have to actually introduce her to someone eventually.

Word count: 7,706

Moon Wrapped in Gold Paper by larrymylove:

Summary: The first time Louis meets Harry, several things go very wrong.

Word count: 7,932

A Christmas Wish by Snowy38:

Summary: "So when are you going to tell him?"

Louis pursed his lips at his sister, his Skype video call relaying his thoughts on that subject perfectly.

"Next question," he mused.

Lottie rolled her eyes.

"It's your birthday in four days, Louis."

"What difference does that make?" He scoffed.

She shrugged.

"You can get drunk and confess how you feel and take it back afterwards if he doesn't feel the same."

That might work if Louis wasn't in love with Harry. But Lottie didn't know that and she didn't need to find out.

"Thanks Lots," he said anyway.

"Seriously Lou what's stopping you?"

Louis sighed.

"Fear mostly."

Word count: 8,780

Meet Me Underneath The Mistletoe by 4ureyesonly28:

Summary: Louis flies out to Chicago for business just before Christmas... His flight home is cancelled because of a snow storm and he ends up going to his colleague Niall's Christmas party where he meets the most gorgeous man he's ever seen. And if they end up under the mistletoe within less than an hour then that's nobody's business but theirs.

Word count: 8,831

There's really nothing better (than a beautiful boy in an ugly Christmas sweater) by we_are_the_same:

Summary: In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Louis takes on a few more shifts at his part time job to be able to buy Christmas presents for his family and friends. In comes Harry, who might be everything Louis had never asked for. Featuring ugly Christmas Sweaters, too many Christmas songs, and not enough snow.

Word count: 9,087

you've set my soul to dreaming by we_are_the_same:

Summary: Or: Thirty year old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall.

Word count: 9,279

Make The Yuletide Gay by flowercrownfemme:

Summary: A Christmas In Connecticut AU in which Louis is a mommy blogger, Harry is a pop star, and nobody's really what they seem. Featuring a lot of lying, tons of domesticity, some badly faked heterosexuality, and a few Christmas kisses.

Word count: 9,769

sidewalk angels echo hallelujah by nooelgallagher:

Summary: When Louis' dog goes missing 7 days before Christmas, he doesn't have much hope for a Christmas reunion. But miracles come in all shapes and sizes, and Harry just might take the form of his.

Word count: 9,978

Brighten My Northern Sky by twoshipstiedup:

Summary: Harry, Louis, a phone number and fate

Word count: 10,030

make my wish come true by flicker_album:

Summary: Or the one where Louis starts decorating for Christmas in November and Harry indulges him.

Word count: 10,137

The Clock Strikes Christmas by jacaranda_bloom:

Summary: OR the one where Louis needs someone to love, Harry needs a miracle, and sometimes, wishes really do come true.

Word count: 10,498

Candy Cane Eyes by larryent:

Summary: It’s the Christmas season in New York City. There are far too many mistletoes hanging in Harry's apartment building and there is a pair of mischievous candy cane blue eyes who is responsible.

Word count: 10,703

and marshmallows by BriaMaria:

Summary: The one where Harry has a personal attachment to Louis' house, and Louis can't stop picturing the beautiful stranger dancing in his kitchen.

Word count: 10,729

Take Your Time by Layne Faire (HisDarlin):

Summary: When Harry finds himself in the middle of a messy break-up with no place to live, Louis offers a spare room in his flat. Unbeknownst to Harry, Louis has been infatuated for years. Over the objections of their friends, who know the truth, Harry accepts. Can Louis survive Harry moving into his home…and closer to his heart? Will Harry see what's right in front of him?

Word count: 11,556

Maybe I'm Crazy To Suppose by twoshipstiedup:

Summary: A breakup before Christmas sends Harry back to a place he'd been avoiding for years.

One night with a stranger makes him want to stay.

Word count: 12,665

If the Fates Allow by afirethatcannotdie:

Summary: Louis yells at a stranger in a shop and a few days later, needs his help. Desperately. Then he discovers he’s kind of in love with him.

Word count: 13,039

The Christmas Lift by homosociallyyours:

Summary: Louis lies about having a boyfriend to avoid being set up on a blind date by an overzealous co-worker, but now he's in desperate need of a fake boyfriend for his office holiday party. He’s complaining about it on the phone to Liam when Harry, his unknown but hot neighbor, overhears him in the lift and offers to help.

It doesn't take long for Louis to realize he wishes things weren't quite so fake, but he's afraid it'll take a Christmas miracle to make anything happen.

Word count: 13,150

Christmas, Baby by nikogda:

Summary: Or, The one where the exact thing that Harry thinks is derailing his life plan might be exactly what he needs.

Word count: 13,191

Wrap me up in your Love by wickedarcher_08:

Summary: Or the one where Louis is pregnant and keeps getting interrupted in the most obscure ways every time he tries to tell Harry.

Word count: 13,223

to the light by fondleeds:

Summary: AU. Harry is a mermaid lost at sea and Louis is a boy determined to make his first Christmas a memorable one.

Word count: 13,304

Moments Stay When People Leave... by lovelarry10:

Summary: Harry gets lost in the memories of the best relationship he'd ever had, and then threw away, breaking two hearts. He makes a decision just before Christmas, and can only hope Louis feels the same...

Word count: 13,855

All I Want Is You (This Christmas) by Dont_Stop_Larry:

Summary: Harry broke up with Louis early in 2014. Louis is trying to figure out life without Harry. Being stuck together on a Christmas vacation might just mend everything.

Word count: 14,019

Come What May by sincewewereeighteen:

Summary: The one in which Harry and Louis have been separated for almost a year, but their kids ask Santa to bring them together again.

Word count: 14,049

Made From Love by lovelarry10:

Summary: It's almost Christmas, and amongst the preparations, Louis' realised something about his husband Harry.

Harry, however, seems to be oblivious.

Louis' determined to open Harry's eyes and make him realise the real magic that's happening this Christmas...

Word count: 14,690

This Winter's Day by QuickedWeen :

Summary: Louis is Harry's stablemaster, and when he falls ill and his mother turns to Harry to help her try and find someone he can settle down with, it's only natural that Harry suggests himself.

Word count: 14,871

The Lights Will Guide You Home by Dont_Stop_Larry:

Summary: The one where two oblivious men haven’t quite figured it out yet - but it may be too late for them.

Word count: 16,916

Christmas at the Holly Lodge by lululawrence:

Summary: Or the one where Louis is the owner of the Holly Lodge, Harry is an investment advisor, and maybe Christmas miracles really do exist.

Word count: 17,387

Make You Feel My Love by rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife):

Summary: Harry decides the best way to go about telling his best friend that he's in love with him is to catch him under a conveniently placed mistletoe but that's not what happens.

Word count: 17,442

My Only Wish by rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife):

Summary: Or an Secret Santa AU where Louis doesn’t know how it works and keeps giving Harry gifts and being not so obvious about his flirting.

Word count: 17,918

An Aurora Grove Christmas by dandelionfairies:

Summary: Harry gets lost on his way to St. Louis. The roads are horrid because of the snow and he ends up spinning into a ditch. Lucky for him, he finds a cabin nearby, as well as a cute blue-eyed man who immediately helps him. Unfortunately, his car is stuck for the night, but at least he has a place to stay with Louis. With the snow continuing to fall and another storm front coming through, will he ever make it out of Aurora Grove? Does he even want to?

Word count: 17,930

Holiday Greetings (And Gay Happy Meetings) by 2tiedships2:

Summary: Or the one where Niall's dead car and and a foot of snow conspire to force Louis into spending time with an alpha he hates.... or does he?

Word count: 18,474

Part 2 here

This Winter Dream by hopeneverdies:

Summary: Louis Tomlinson is on his way home from New York City to spend Christmas with his family, but his trip is temporarily halted when his car breaks down in a small town upstate. A lonely barista, named Harry, offers him a place to stay for the night. It doesn't take long before Louis wants to offer something to Harry in return.

Word count: 19,065

Reindeer Games by Throwthemflowers:

Summary: Louis is a disgruntled elf and Harry is one of Santa’s reindeer. Featuring classic miscommunication, heaps of unrequited pining, gratuitous smut (with a bit of, shall we say, horseplay), a pinch of NYC holiday magic, and a sickening amount of Christmas Spirit.

Word count: 19,639

Six Weeks by LadyLondonderry:

Summary: When Harry takes the afternoon shift at the cafe, he meets a boy who drinks a lot of tea and never remembers his umbrella.

Word count: 20,023

All I Want For Christmas (Is Lou) by wickedarcher_08:

Summary: Or the one where Harry and Louis are each others Secret Santa

Word count: 20,550

So Put Your Hands In (The Holes of My Sweater) by Kat_rawr:

Summary: Harry and Louis go on a lot of not-dates.

Word count: 21,355

Better Not Pout, I'm Telling You Why by runaway_train:

Summary: The one where Harry still believes in Santa Claus and Louis doesn't want to be the one to burst his bubble.

Word count: 24,545

Lovin' you is a gift by messofgorgeouschaos:

Summary: With his 28th birthday approaching, Louis was looking forward to celebrating in New York City with an all-expenses paid trip. He just didn't expect to spend it with an escort when he suddenly finds himself single a few days before it. A Pretty Woman AU.

Word count: 25,462

Waited All Year To Be Near by lovelarry10:

Summary: Harry’s preparing for the holidays at home with his four children while Louis is deployed. All he wants is his husband home for Christmas. But Louis’ half a world away...

Word count: 27,399

Let It Snow by crescentmoonshine:

Summary: Four years, four disastrous Christmas parties, four disastrous attempts to get it right.

Word count: 27,858

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups:

Summary: Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.

Word count: 31,880

From the Start by Anonymous:

Summary: Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

Word count: 32,185

Frosted Kisses by bromanceorromance:

Summary: Harry and Niall run a bakery called Sweet Cheeks. Louis is in line to become the next Santa Claus, but his best friend, Zayn, is the only one that knows. Louis wants Harry as soon as he sees him, but he's not ready to interrupt Harry's life with the "I'm the next Santa" news until it's almost too late.

Word count: 34,135

Latching Onto You by reminiscingintherain:

Summary: Or, the one where Louis wants to book Harry Styles to perform at his best friends' wedding.

Word count: 34,313

Find You Home by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie):

Summary: When Louis lies to his family and says he’ll bring his new boyfriend home for Christmas, his best friend and roommate Harry agrees to play the part. It’s that, or be left alone over the holidays.

What will happen? No one knows! Perhaps Santa will swoop in with a Christmas miracle.

Featuring lovesick idiots, kissing and cuddling, pies and Christmas clichés.

Word count: 35,388

Feels Like Christmas by lovelarry10:

Summary: Harry Styles has always loved Christmas - it’s his favourite holiday, but there’s always been something missing.

Louis Tomlinson has been running from his pain, and is determined to ignore the holidays once more, choosing to spend them in solitude.

When they meet - entirely by chance - it could be just what they both need this Christmas...

Word count: 49,630

the impossible now by stylinsoncity:

Summary: A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

Word count: 64,839

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darth-salem-emperor-of-earth · 4 years

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Not to my surprise, I’m on the late side with my first entry for @naruto-fantasy-week but better late than never, as they say (let’s see if I can actually produce my six other planned fanfics for this event. XD). But I was dying to write a soulmate/soul bond AU and this prompt offered the chance to me on a silver platter. I had a lot of fun with this story and had to find a decent place to stop because my brain kept churning with ideas to make this oneshot even longer to the point I should save this concept for later and either explain on it with a sequel or a multi fic. I did a little editing but it was mainly looking out for typos, misspellings, or missing words. Hopefully, I got them all or most of the mistakes. Happy reading! <3

If anyone is curious, the title for this fanfic “Our Two Souls Destined to Be” are lyrics from the song “Until Eternity” by Blackbriar.

Summary: Soulmates, soul bonds, whatever you call them, they were deemed special. But not to Neji. It didn’t matter who he was bonded to, for the main family would never allow him to find his true soulmate. Naruto Fantasy Week, Day 1. Prompt: Soul Bonds. [Neji x Sakura]

Flashback

Thoughts

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“He is half of my soul, as the poets say.”

― The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every shinobi village treated soul bonds with care but they all had their own ways to manage how these destined people found each other. In Konoha, soul bonds were celebrated and considered a thing of beauty but the village leaders, even the Hokage himself, left the clans alone in their decision regarding the treatment of soulmates, even if it meant the clan heads would tear the soulmates apart for their own agenda. The Uchiha and Hyuga clans were particularly known for this, especially in the branch Hyuga family.

Neji was no stranger to how little of a chance the branch family would have in being allowed to meet and marry their soulmate. Unless their bond directed them to a civilian or another branch member, they were demanded to ignore such signs and tether themselves to the person of the main family’s choosing. His father had no such choice in the matter and neither would Neji. And he already knew what color eyes his soulmate would have.

Neji's father, Hyuga Hizashi, regarded him curiously when the four-year-old asked him what color the grass and leaves on the tree was. He glanced at the twisted tree decorated with bright green leaves and budding, light pink blossoms. He knew what that meant if his son couldn't see the color green and there was no Hyuga in the entire clan that possessed such an eye color. Neji was bonded to an outsider, as the main family would see it.

"How long haven't you been able to behold the color green?" Hizashi queried gently, sitting down beside him as Neji stared at the blades of grass strewn across his palms.

"Since I turned four and before oji put the Caged Bird Seal on me." Neji tilted his hands to the side, watching several bits of grass immediately fall back down to the ground while a few still stuck to his warm palms. "I don't want anyone but you know about my soul bond. I don't want Hiashi-oji finding out and deciding he needs to uncover and lock up my soulmate."

His father remained silent at this admission, not even wasting his breath to assure Neji, his uncle–Hizashi's older twin brother–would never do something so horrendous to prevent Neji from being happy with someone destined for him. Hiashi rarely permitted the branch Hyugas be with their soulmates, especially when the union threatened the main family. That was one reason why he kept Hizashi's soulmate hidden and out of sight–that and the fact she was in love with Hizashi, even though Hisana was Hiashi's intended when the bond was initially revealed. The two of them tried to elope together but were eventually caught by a squad main Hyuga jonins and then were subsequently dragged back to the main family's manor. Hiashi never forgave his brother for ‘stealing’ his bride and her love, and punished them both by making sure they never saw each other ever again. Hisana's new home became her prison, living in exile in her own estates while Hizashi had to sneak around to smuggle in her gifts and letters to keep their spirits and hope alive.

As if remembering the painful memory, Neji's father gazed forlornly back at the tall, imposing stone walls that barred Hisana from her true freedom. His jaw locked in a tight grimace. "Not this time, Neji."

Neji jerked his head up in surprise. "Chichi?"

His father looked back at him, a grim yet resolute gleam in his light eyes. "You will find your soulmate, Neji. You deserve happiness with your soul bond and I'll fight with every fiber in my being to grant you that opportunity, even if it kills me."

Not too long after that private conversation between, his father was gone. Murdered by the main family, even though the official claim was he died at the hands of an assassin trying to kill Hiashi and abduct Hinata. Neji doubted the genuineness of that story, for that tale was a mere cover-up to shield their sordid crimes from the village. They didn't even announce which enemy village attempted to kidnap their precious clan heir, claiming they didn't want to start a political quagmire.

The main family were always crafty, elegant liars.

Neji's pale lavender eyes blankly stared at the trees of the village, their leaves vibrant to everyone else but him. To him, they were a lightly toned grey hue. And if his uncle had anything to say about it, the color green would remain elusive to him forever.

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When Sakura received her soul bond mark, she didn’t tell her parents.

The symbol was a family crest, no doubt, one she was not familiar with but it burned itself along her neck, right above her collarbone. She stuffed her mouth with a pillow to muffle her screaming, utterly relieved that her parents were outside, enjoying the warm weather, and couldn’t hear her agonized noises. Then the scalding throbbing stopped and she frantically looked in the mirror to see an upside triangle with a curve up top, encompassing a small, thick swirling cloud. Transfixed, Sakura hesitantly reached out to trace the emblem, the marking smooth like ink instead of an iron hot brand. She had never seen this sigil before but then again, she came from a civilian upbringing and was unaware of the many important shinobi clans Konoha boasted to have among their ranks. She needed to learn more about the other important, non-civilian families in her village, especially since she already joined the Academy to become a kunoichi.

Checking out a record scroll listing all the known shinobi clans, both existing and defunct, was an easy task at the local library. Sakura spent her afternoon reading every name and analyzing their emblems to see if they matched the sketched replica she made earlier of her soul bond mark. The clan names were listed alphabetically and she was rather shocked to see how many ninja houses, both great and lesser, there were in the world. By the time she reached the ‘F’ section, her stomach grumbled and she had to take a break for lunch, the scroll tucked securely underneath her armpit.

About an hour and a half later, Sakura stared in shock at the perfectly inked Hyuga family crest in the scroll’s documentation, the elaborate sigil identical to the soul bond mark on her neck. Instinctively, she reached out to touch the spot, wondering what this could mean for her. There were stories and known instances of people from differing clans, both ninja and civilian, being tethered together through the soul but this was the Hyuga clan, one of Konoha’s greatest and prominent shinobi family since the founding years. How could her, a budding kunoichi-in-training (and a civilian as well), be bonded to a Hyuga?

Setting the scroll aside, Sakura finished the remnants of her lunch in a melancholic mood, frantically debating if she should finally tell her parents about her finally being bonded to another soul or remain mum on the matter. Memories of her parents’ reluctance, almost near protest, to her decision to become a shinobi of the Leaf, crept back in her mind and she cringed. If her parents still hadn’t warmed up to the idea of her being kunoichi one day and kept waiting for her to quit, then how would they come to terms that her soul mate came from one of the most prodigious clans known to shinobi?

No, she was better off not telling them the truth about her soul bond. The less her parents knew, the better.

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Due to the shifting, tense conflicts with the other villages, the Hokage decided to pass a mandate that allowed certain classes of genin to graduate a year early. Neji and his fellow classmates were already on their way to gradate but the genin who were all year younger had the chance to pass the Academy and be allotted their own genin team and teacher.

Neji barely cared who they assigned as his teammates when he graduated.

All it mattered he was in the top of his class, his success and herald as a prodigy flying straight in the face of his uncle and the claim that branch members could never rise higher than the main family. He wished he was there to witness the look on Hiashi’s visage when he realized his nephew showed far more promise as a ninja than his precious heir.

Pale lavender eyes surveyed his classmates, observing their reactions rather than their eyes. He once searched for the color in their eyes, hoping to find that missing hue. There was one classmate who supposedly possessed such an eye color but nothing happened between them and the hue remained elusive to him. Of course finding his soul bond wouldn’t be so easy.

“Hello, Neji-san!” greeted one of his teammates, Lee, in a far too cheery tone. “I look forward to working with you on the many missions to come!” Neji’s other teammate, Tenten, sighed, shaking her head.

“Lee, don’t bother Neji-san.”

The said man blinked. “I wasn’t! I was simply introducing myself to him! We’re teammates, after all, so shouldn’t we get to know one another?”

I could care less.

Without saying anything, Neji stood from his desk and removed himself from the room, leaving behind a bewildered Lee and Tenten exclaiming, ‘See? I told you so!’

He didn’t know why the sight of Lee or his over-enthusism grated him so. Maybe he didn’t like overly friendly or cheerful people or maybe it was because it was well known his two teammates already found their soulmates and their bonds lead to each other. Regardless, he had to get out of this damned academy.

“Forehead Girl, I can’t believe you ended up on the same team as Sasuke-kun! I don’t know why you aren’t as excited as me about this!”

“Ino, please! Keep your voice down! I don’t think the entire village learned about who my new teammate is.” scolded a second voice. Soon enough, two girls rounded around the corner, one blonde, the other sporting brilliant pink hair. The second voice belonged to the pinkette.

Neji stopped, his eyebrows furrowing. He had heard about some other shinobi-in-trainees from other classes (like Uchiha Sasuke and other clan members) before but nothing as odd as a kunoichi with pink hair. She must be decent enough to be paired with Sasuke in their three man squad.

The blonde–Ino–shook her head, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “Well, Sakura, if you’re not going to take advantage of being teammates with Sasuke and cozying up to him, then maybe I should come around and visit you guys while you train.”

Sakura snickered. “Sure, but I can’t guarantee he’ll notice you, Ino Pig.” She looked away from her friend and in that instant, her gaze crossed with Neji’s.

And the color green, so brilliant and lustrous, exploded in his vision.

He gasped unwontedly, reeling from the shock of such a vivid arrival, and couldn’t take his eyes off the girl who the universe bonded himself too. She was staring at him too, one hand clutching her neck and shoulder. Their eye contact never broke, even if her face was locked in pain, like she was burning upside. Their bodies remained frozen, partially out of fear that this was all just a dream and the other would disappear the moment they moved. The other reason, Neji, suspected, as he adjusted to seeing green for the first time while his soulmate controlled her ragged breathing, was they didn’t know how to proceed next. Despite the common occurrences of soul bonds, there really wasn’t a textbook example in how to meet your intended soulmate. At least, one that wasn’t a mere marketing ploy to garner a quick yen or two.

Neji opened his mouth, but the girl–Sakura was her name, he recalled–beat him to it.

“It’s you,” she breathed out in wonder. She took a small step forward, those beautiful, dazzling jade eyes wide and curious. He couldn’t recall the last time someone looked at him that way–or at least, not with utter loathing or total indifference.

“I am Hyuga Neji,” he found himself replying, unsure what else to say to her. There was no need to confirm they were each other’s soulmates, the intense exchange between them upon their first encounter was enough proof.

He was still processing how he should now approach this matter when Sakura let out a victorious squeal and launched herself at him, catching him off guard long enough to trap him in a tight but warm, welcoming hug. He stiffened. Soulmate or no, she was a kunoichi and shouldn't resort to such childish behaviors—

“I found you. I finally found you.” Her face was pressed up against his chest, almost nuzzling his neck so he felt her breath tickle his skin. The sensation felt pleasing, much to his surprise. “After all these years of searching and waiting...you’re here. Just like that.” And then Sakura just had to tilt her head up and peer up at him with those beguiling eyes, their green depths pulling him in. Bonded adults who found their other soul always talked about the strength of that instant connection you experienced when you first meet your soulmate yet Neji never esteemed the soul bond would be this powerful, this intoxicating. Maybe that was why Sakura felt compelled to run up and embrace him full-heartedly.

Into those green irises he gazed on, finding his voice at last when she released him from the enfoldment. “Here I am. We are soulmates, Sakura.” He tested the words out. New as they were on his tongue they still seemed right. “And as my soulmate, I will protect you.”

His father once stormed and braved all the shinobi of the main family to set his soulmate, his beloved Hisana, free from her gilded cage and allow her to seize her own life by the reins. Even though their love story turned into a tragedy, Neji wanted to honor them and at least take the chance at life with his soulmate. It was what his father would have wanted.

Sakura blushed, no doubt thinking he was referring to enemy villages but in truth, his uncle was the main foe on his mind. Neji would have said more if it wasn’t for Sakura’s friend, the one nicknamed ‘Ino Pig’, had to barge and interrupt their precious moment quite boisterously to remind them of her presence.

“SAKURA, WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOUR SOULMATE WAS A HYUGA?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The minute people started poking their heads outside of classrooms or followed the sound of her friend’s voice, Sakura seized the opportunity to grab Neji by the hand and get them both out of the Academy and to one of the training grounds for more privacy. She felt bad for not giving him any warning as she tugged him along, her feet picking up a quick sprint to avoid their classmates’ prying eyes and nosy attention. For the first day with her soulmate, Sakura didn’t want anyone else butting in and spoiling their moment. Judging how willingly Neji allowed her to drag him away from the building without warning, he harbored similar sentiments. He didn’t complain once about her sudden actions and kept up with her pace with ease. Sakura had a sneaky suspicion Neji was faster than she was and like most Hyugas, excelled in taijutsu.

Maybe we could train together some time and he could teach me how to improve my taijutsu? Iruka-sensei keeps saying I’m doing fine but never tells me exactly which areas I can improve in.

“Finally, some peace and quiet, and more importantly, privacy!” she declared out loud, even though she glanced around them one more time to make sure Ino didn’t try to follow them. Then again, she probably was telling anyone who’d listened about the soulmate meeting she just witnessed between her best friend and Hyuga Neji. And knowing Ino, she’d probably over embellish certain parts for dramatic or romantic value. Sakura’s cheeks flushed at the mere thought of how...descriptive her childhood companion could be.

“For how long? Sooner or later, our teammates are going to catch wind of our disappearance and scour the Academy in search of us.” Neji pointed out, crossing his arms, his back against a tree trunk.

Sakura resisted the urge to chew her bottom lip, knowing while Sasuke wouldn’t care where she had gone but Naruto would heatedly clamor for her whereabouts and butt into her and Neji’s personal conversation, demanding to know what was going on. While Naruto wasn’t nosy like Ino, he definitely lacked tact and perception, especially in the more delicate or sensitive matters.

“Maybe ten minutes or so, if we’re lucky,” she estimated, silently praying to Kami that her teammates were far away and wouldn’t come along to muck up her very first meeting with her soulmate. “Not a lot of time to talk but we can still try to get to know each other a little bit before we have to go back to our teams.”

Neji nodded. That seemed reasonable enough. “What do you want to know? My skills as a shinobi?”

Heat flared up on Sakura’s cheeks and she wished that practical matter was her first thought. “Well, that too. I was thinking about asking questions more on the line on what we like or dislike, favorite foods, what’s your favorite color--you know, fun little facts to learn about each other.”

Neji couldn’t remember someone asking him such mundane queries or expressing an interest in him outside of the Academy or shinobi lifestyle. He wasn’t sure if he should find the whole point such discussions pointless or refreshing. Albeit he had to admit, he was curious to learn more about Sakura. Despite his grim resignation of the main family preventing him from ever discovering the end of his soul bond, he had often wondered late in the night before going to sleep what his soulmate would be like. Would they be a shinobi like him or a civilian? Were they from a clan or have no distinct, esteemed connections of their own? And would his soulmate even be a denizen of Konoha? At least now he will finally have some answers to the questions his younger self frequently contemplated about.

“Why do you go first, Sakura?” he offered politely. She seemed to know what questions she wanted to ask him anyway.

She nearly bounced in her feet. “Okay! Let’s start with your favorite food and color. Oh, and your least favorite food!”

That was straightforward enough. “Herring soba. I hate the flavor of pumpkin and any spicy foods. As for my favorite color…” He paused, realizing he never truly thought about it until now. Sakura’s brilliant verdant eyes snare his focus again, subtly offering him an option. Her eyes were a pretty shade after all. Perhaps fate had an answer for him after all. “Let’s go with green. Now that I can see it, I don’t think I can get enough of it.”

Sakura’s jaw dropped open. “You couldn’t see the color green for years?!” She had heard that each soul bond was different, that soulmates weren’t necessarily marked the same way but to never behold the color belonging to your soulmate’s eyes until you two finally met (if the union ever betided) seemed like such a huge sacrifice to endure and wait for its end.

Neji shrugged with indifference, knowing Sakura meant well but until today, he was used to not gleaning the color green and all its various shades. Now, he couldn’t unsee the hue and that was perfectly fine with him. “It doesn’t matter now. I fathomed if I had the chance to meet my soulmate, they’d be worth the wait.” His lavender pearl eyes leveled with her jade ones. “And I was right.”

Sakura sucked her breath in, trying her utmost best to remain calm and collected while inside, she was squealing with glee. While she had always been excited at the prospect of one day finding the match to her soul bond, deep down she was nervous, frightened even, that she would be rejected because she wasn’t good enough, that she didn’t come from a noble or prestigious ninja clan or carried a formidable bloodline in her veins. She was a simple civilian girl who aspired to be a strong kuniochi one day, regardless of all the taunts and abuse the younger girls heaped on her in the early days of the Academy. And Hyuga Neji, her soul bond, seemed to have no issue with her civilian-like background. It was enough to have her heart fluttering all over again.

“T-Thank you,” she managed to say without blushing as crimson as her cheongsam but was unable to stop a grin from overtaking her lips. Neji’s smirk at her reaction was hardly inscrutable now, even as she quickly changed the subject back to her earlier inquiries. “My favorite color is red, as you might have guessed, and I have several favorite foods: anko dumplings, umeboshi, and, oh, anmitsu! But I can’t stand spicy food either. I just don’t understand how people can enjoy burning their tastes buds.” Sakura made a contemptuous face, remembering the last time she tried an overly spicy and seasoned dish. She had to gulp down an entire glass of milk to stop the fire from spreading along her tongue. That was when she learned water didn’t alleviate the fiery discomfort at all.

“I don’t understand it either,” Neji agreed, granting her a sympathetic look. He had to admit, learning such trivial pieces of information about his soulmate was rather fun. These small talks helped him understand Sakura a little bit better, especially if they seemed to be so unalike in various ways. He was about to propose a question of his own when he sensed very faint but approaching chakra signatures heading towards his and Sakura’s covert location. Instinctively, he activated his Byakugan. He did not fail to notice the way Sakura’s eyes widened with surprise or the expression of awe and wonder flashing across her features as she witnessed his kekkei genkai in action for the very first time.

“What is it? Who’s trying to locate us?” She kept her tone hushed, preventing her voice from echoing over the tall, shrouded trees they used as refuge from curious onlookers.

“Two senseis,” Neji groused, thoroughly displeased with this interruption. If the intruders were fellow classmates, they could have easily been shooed away. “Looks like we’re found out.” His gaze returned to normal.

Sakura sighed exasperatedly, dejected by these turn of events and crossed her arms irately. She had hoped her and Neji would have more time together and no one would notice their absence until much later. “We already have graduated and yet, they still want to lecture us on something we won’t remember or care about now that we’re genin and can finally go on missions.”

“Just ignored them,” Neji advised, a shadow of a smirk gracing his lips. “It’s only for today. And after that, the Academy will be a thing of the past.”

Sakura brightened at his words, standing up tall. “That’s right! And we can have more time to see each other! Do you think you’ll be free tomorrow?”

“I should be, if my new sensei doesn’t keep us training for the whole day. I’ll come find you after practice. What’s the number they assigned your team?”

“Seven. What about you?”

“Thirteen.”

“There you two are!”

In a sudden swirl of smoke, stood two Academy teachers, both eyeing their respective student from their classroom. One of them was Neji’s teacher, who merely cut him a disapproved frown while the other teacher, who was tan and supported a long scar across his nose, smiled worriedly at Sakura.

“Iruka-sensei, you shouldn’t pop in on us like that! Neji and I were having a private conversation!” Sakura protested indignantly.

Iruka almost appeared apologetic the way he shot her an empathetic glance, his smile unwavering, before addressing them both. “I’m sorry to cut this moment short, but you two need to go with your genin team and meet your new sensei. I’m sure the two of you have plenty of time later talk to each other.” He then winked knowingly, now wearing an absurdly goofy grin while ushering both a stoic Neji and an irked Sakura out of the canopy of trees and back to the Academy. Before they parted to be formally introduced to their shinobi squad, Sakura gave him an eager wave, her eyes alight with the promise of them meeting up tomorrow. Even though he only knew her company for such a brief time, he did enjoy the way she beamed at him like that, rife with hope and supreme joy, as if they were the only two people in the world and nothing else mattered. Neji was beginning to understand the inexplicable bliss of having a soul bond much better now. And he had Sakura to thank for that.

Feeling lighthearted for the first time in years, Neji glanced hopefully at the doors to the Academy and the cherry blossoms trees that framed the grounds around the building. He wondered if Sakura liked cherry blossoms or she preferred other flora in Konoha.

Next time they talked, he’ll have to ask her what her favorite flowers were.

#narutofantasyweek #narutofantasyweek2020 #NejiSaku #Sakura x Neji #my writing #soul bounds #naruto fantasy week #naruto-fantasy-week #Naruto #Soulmates AU #Soulmates #Soul mates

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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

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HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-05-19

Figured an upd8 was coming, it’s felt like enough time has passed for one.

Huh, looking at my last post I’d completely forgotten I was supposed to play through Pesterquest sometime... work is busy and stressing me out a bit, I’m not sure when I’ll have the energy on the side to do that. (Maybe I’ll livetweet it like I did Undertale a while ago, but this time not looking at my twitter replies so I don’t get spoiled by One Guy™?)

Also, including bonus commentary on A Threat Sensed.

Okay, going in completely blind. I’d guessed from context that we’re hopping over to Meat side to get a chapter there before we can come back to actually see Yiffy?

Yep. Okay, what is this about exactly?

(Agh, dammit, I’ve been copying and pasting so much at work remoting into Windows lately that now I’m automatically trying to hit control-C instead of command-C to copy.)

> CHAPTER 9. How Goes The Eulogizing, Dear?

CONTENT NOTE: This chapter contains Child Abuse.

Which one???

Wait

JANE: (Where is he?) JANE: (It's a question I've found myself asking many times in recent days.)

Holy SHIT we get two Candy chapters in a row??? So we might see her right away?? No, it’s gotta just be another tiny glimpse.

(Has two Candy chapters in a row happened before? Future Boots, scroll back up and put this here. FUTURE BOOTS: “I forgot to scroll back up and put that here.” EDIT: Also, not the first time with two in a row, but it IS the first time with THREE in a row, huh.)

So Jane has to be talking about either Tavros or Dave. --Oh, if this was a Candy Side chapter title, I guess Rose or Jade is eulogizing Dave for John?

> (==>)

JANE: (Where now is our merry savior?) JANE: (Where is the horn that was honking?) JANE: (Where is the cape and the codpiece, and the...) JANE: (The...) JANE: (Oh, fiddlesticks.)

What? Is she reading a childrens’ book? --Oh. She’s eulogizing Gamzee. So that gives us a third option, where the rebellion crashes the funeral somehow, probably audiovisually rather than in person. (Which would make sense, given Candy practically began with Gamzee crashing Dirk’s funeral.)

> (==>)

Ah never mind, she’s still writing it.

That sure is a single button drama-remote that’s going to be pressed at some point. Oh, and who the fuck keeps a spork in a pen cup??? --No no, don’t say it’s one of those pens with a spork at the eraser end, either ready-made or rubber-banded to the side. That would make sense. You totally know it isn’t that and is just a spork.

JANE: (Okay, poetry is out.) JANE: (What else?) JANE: (Hrm...) JANE: (I've always been pretty good at crying on cue.) JANE: (Could I try staging an emotional breakdown?) JANE: (That could work; playing to people's humanity.)

Why were you crying in Jake’s arms about his death if you didn’t care that much? Did you just want him to hold you and kinda make him feel in on things again? Or did you just cry yourself out about him?

JANE: (Or whatever is the more inclusive term.)

I bet the rest of Earth C figured out a more inclusive term millenia ago FUCK I accidentally added millennia to my dictionary misspelled instead of correcting it hold on--

...There, killed the entry for it. ...Huh. Take a look at my Chrome dictionary’s custom-added words over the years, apparently:

Caliborn Eridan Kanaya Matriorb Meenah Tavros alchemiter dichotomic nephilim reblogged uncaptchalogues uncaptchaloguing

That’s fun.

Okay back to reading. Millennia. Phew! Where was I.

JANE: (One really good and calculated weep could do it, I think.) JANE: (But then there's the danger that I might get carried away and do it for real.) JANE: (And I can't risk that.)

So still feeling something, just too used to calculating over the past years.

JANE: (What can I say about him that will stir up their emotions?) JANE: (Do I mention the stuff about the milk?) JANE: (Think Crocker, think.)

WHY would you-- how much did Gamzee normalize adult breastfeeding?!

JAKE: Ahoy over there!

Not the best time.

(The thing with the divorce papers from the Epilogue and John implying he was planning with Jake to execute something that sounds like a divorce... is that going to be sprung here? Did her lawyers send the divorce papers way back when she was in a fit of pique, and he just had them available to sign now at the tactical moment? Or... let me pull the exact text...)

JOHN: now, harry anderson, i know that you and tavros haven't always gotten along. JOHN: but i am going to have to ask you to try and look out for him for the time being. JOHN: your uncle jake and i... well, i'll explain later. JOHN: let's just say that gamzee isn't the only family member jane is losing today.

(So is John going to submit the papers? Or did they already go through a while ago and default custody to John or something who’s going to adopt him too or some nonsense? And did he plan this out with Jake NOW, or a while ago, and if only a while ago, is Jake going to KNOW whatever John’s about to pull in that respect is about to happen??)

> (==>)

Butte

Janepalme

> (==>)

JAKE: Er... how goes the eulogizing, dear?

Gah. I completely forgot again that capitalized-first-letter chapter names don’t mean KANAYA is saying them. That probably makes a lot more sense out of my wondering about the chapter title earlier to those of you who didn’t realize I was making that mistake.

JANE: It turns out that it's mighty difficult to find touching things to say about a person, the relationship with whom was predicated on deep-seated mutual loathing.

Hah!

--A loathing you regarded as largely more important to you than Jake ever was, by the way. You asshole.

JANE: I imagine this is one of the reasons no funerary tradition was ever established on Alternia, besides the barbarism of their culture. DIRK: Jesus christ. JANE: Not only did a significant proportion of their interpersonality depend on romance in the form of hatred, but it was a society based on cruelty and violence. JANE: What reason could they have had to provide for the dead? JANE: What kind of last rites could they have even imagined?

I wondered for a moment why (bg!)Dirk of all people would react to a single line of her starting to bring up prejudices, but then I realized that (1) Brain Ghost Dirk is a little more Jakey, and (2) Dirk knew that more ranting would follow the first line.

JANE: I can't think of anything good to write about him because deep down, I hated his guts. JANE: But he was and is beloved of the multitude, so I have to think of something regardless. JAKE: Im not sure i understand. JANE: Don't worry your pretty little head about it. JANE: This is politics, Jakey. JANE: Lying through your two front teeth about people you hate is about as good a definition as it's possible to get. JANE: But, by gum, is it tiring work.

Mm. It’s a position Jane put herself in, but it’s still a legitimate position once you’re there.

JANE: The funeral is tomorrow, after all.

Got it.

DIRK: Dude, the bowl. JAKE: Hm? JAKE: Oh, right. JANE: What is it now, Jake. JAKE: I brought something for our guest as well. JANE: You mean the prisoner. JAKE: Y...es.

Wait, bowl?

Oh god damnit which of you had the idea to feed her with a DOG BOWL. Either of you could have thought of it, and either of you would be horrible for it.

> (==>)

Huh, that outfit on Yiffy looks familiar, like a reference to something. And a black tail? This definitely isn’t quite the look I was expecting from Jade Plus Rose, but I suppose the snazzy tie is a Roseish vibe. Also reminiscent of Jade’s old Dead Shuffle dress. Formal wear and soccer cleats??

JANE: She's over in the corner. JANE: Don't worry, she won't bite. JANE: I've seen to that already.

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN. I don’t see anything over her mouth! Did she stick something in it, or drug her? File her fucking teeth???

I mean I did forget the Child Abuse trigger warning to be fair. Hoping whatever would be on her mouth is just not shown in-panel yet for stylistic reasons.

> (==>)

JAKE: Its only mac and cheese, sorry. JAKE: Its all I know how to make, haha. JAKE: ... JAKE: I um... hope you can safely partake of cheese? JAKE: ... JAKE: Well, JAKE: Bon appetit.

How the fuck did Jake eat on his island then? --Oh right, preserved food cans that Grandma Jade stored up, I think I remember. Why would cheese not be a thing for them, if it’s fine for Jade? I know he’s probably not just worried about lactose intolerance.

Either way, if she’s drugged here, that’ll mean we won’t get a good idea of her for a while, so which is it...

> (==>)

DIRK: Bon appetit. DIRK: Seriously dude? JAKE: (What? Did i pronounce it wrong?) DIRK: Jake. DIRK: You put the food in a fucking dog bowl. JAKE: (It was all there was, ok???) JAKE: (I feel awful enough as it is without you getting on my case about it.)

Ah, missed the bone pun. AND, yeah, Jake, you’re a fucking idiot, you could have put it in a cup or something.

JAKE: (So far ive yet to see anything come of that brilliant plan of yours.) JAKE: (Are you sure sending that message to the others was enough?)

Okay, so he IS coordinating this slightly.

> (==>)

Horrifying image to contemplate, eh Jane?

Or anger-inducing?

> (==>)

Seems about right!

> (==>)

Oh that’s a GREAT exasperated Jane face.

JANE: I hope you're not expecting dessert, young lady.

I like how Jane didn’t notice, comment on, or care about the bowl. How can you hate a kid so much??

> (==>)

Oh I know why I felt like I recognized the outfit style, it’s because it’s ANIME AS FUCK. Feels like some Persona 4 Arena nonsense, and I say that not having played any of those games or even remembering what they looked like. Also, white hair, black fur’d dog parts? Nice change of pace.

YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR... JANE: Oh no you don't.

Red text? What color exactly... “#D00009”? Huh. That’s nowhere near Alt-Callie’s #FF0000, and darker than Dave’s #E00707. In fact, let me go back and check those spilled color pins the commentary pointed out from an update or two ago... no, the red pin is #E63225, closer to Dave’s color. (Also, is Yiffy blocking the doorway out? That’s a pretty slack chain then.)

Did Jane see to it that she wouldn’t bite with like, a water spray bottle?

(EDIT: Oh my FUCKING GOD, THAT's why it's #D00009...)

> (==>)

FUCK I didn’t notice the shock collar in the Yiffy image! FUCK YOU, Jane.

> (==>)

Keeping someone in line with collars, especially ones that punish whenever one strays out of line, has always been a decent way for her to mix in some Doomy control of others to show how she’s “grown” to balance her main role and her Tiara-controlled-like inverse for more power. Doom in part represents boundaries that you can’t cross without getting hurt or punished.

> (==>)

FUCK, those little buck teeth!? D’:

JANE: That's more like it.

She HAS to have more of a reason for hating her than hating her parents, right? Like, more than that and general racism applying to partdogfolk?

> (==>)

Hey fuck off with that!

> (==>)

This is a pretty cool ima-- are those piercings on her dog ear? I didn’t notice that in the first shot, neat.

JANE: You've been a thorn in my side ever since I agreed to enroll you at the academy, little madam. JANE: Back then, I was doing a favor for two old friends who made a disgusting mistake. JANE: I'm no longer going to play nice with you just because of your parents, however. JANE: That truce is over. JANE: Do I make myself understood?

What the fuck? WHY would you do that? Why does Jane run "Ms. Paint’s Home for Inconvenient Girls”? What did Yiffy do to piss her off so much there, how much trouble could she have caused?

I don’t know if she’s referring to the behind-Kanaya’s-back part as disgusting or she’s just being MORE racist.

> (==>)

JANE: We don't want you passing out during the ceremony, do we?

Oh, just showing the hostage off during the clown funeral, huh? Classy much?

> (==>)

JANE: Now, be a good hostage and get some rest, Yiffany dear. JANE: We've got a big day tomorrow.

For a politician, Jane’s not good at looking at herself in a mirror.

> (==>)

JANE: Night night. JANE: Hoo hoo.

> (Yiffy: Lights out.)

Huh, dream stuff is gonna be relevant out in Candy then? *click*

Okay, dark background all of a sudden. Properly dramatic? You even have to highlight the non-link “>” part of the Next link to see it.

> (==>)

-- thespiansGlamor [TG] began pestering adamantGriftress [AG] --

Well, I don’t know WHY it’s happening, but the white-backed pesterlog suddenly on the dark site framing is certainly evocative. Of like, a mood, or something.

TG: i thought he was pretty quiet down there. TG: we'll make a rebel of him yet! AG: Lol. AG: I think it's more that he can't sleep. AG: I know how he feels. TG: yeah. TG: today was a lot. AG: ... TG: do you wanna talk about it? AG: Ugh, not you as well.

It’s really jarring to transition between Homestuck’s “kids jarringly mentally resistant to freaking out about the end of the world” to HS^2′s more realistic “kids traumatized by their first firefight even though it was an overwhelming victory-escape”.

TG: but seriously, do you? AG: Not really. TG: not even about... you know? TG: her? AG: No. TG: ... are you sure? AG: A8solutely. AG: What are you, my moirail? AG: Just leave it, Harry. TG: ok.

Are they about to have an “I wonder what Yiffy’s like” talk?

> (==>)

Very similar Tav/Vrissy convo to the previous one.

GG: I havent ever shared a bedroom before,,, GG: Not even for a slumber party,,, AG: Tavvy, you are just a8out the saddest person I've ever met.

Well, we have an even better idea how horrible Jane can be with kids, now. From Nanna to THIS is quite jarring. I wonder how the double Nannasprites that must still be around here somewhere feel?

> (==>)

TG: nothing about my dad is cute. TG: what are you even saying. AG: Lmao. TG: seriously! TG: i think he has something against that word, even. he gets super weird about it. AG: He's a strange and funny m8n. TG: yeah. TG: ... TG: i think something bad must have happened.

...um. What? Why would John have some sort of trauma about the word cute or being called it?

Did John dress up as a hint of his buried June ambitions as a kid and Dad lavish him with “SO CUTE” praise in an epic supportiveness backfire that caused him to shelve the idea of wearing non-masc clothes and being happier on the flipside of gender ever again??? Because if that’s how June gets canonized as promised, it’s a little harsher than the back of my mind was hoping. I guess it kind of had to be though from the premise of how it was read into his childhood for the original idea, though. Fuck, I hope this Cute business is about something different from that (like a Terezi reference or such) just to get less John Sads. (But still June. Definitely still want to get June.)

> (==>)

Oh, and now Vrissy is doing nothing but talking about what she said she didn’t want to talk about, of course. (Also I like how JANE’s now being called the Batterwitch.)

AG: And the worst part was they didn't even fight a8out it! AG: That made me madder than 8nything else. AG: It felt like I was the only person who even W8S mad! GG: I dont think thats true,,, AG: What would you know a8out it?! GG: Maybe nothing,,, GG: Sorry,,, GG: Its just,,, GG: To me,,, all the way through the conversation,,, aunt kanaya looked even angrier than you,,, AG: ... AG: Adults are so fucking weird.

Guh, I don’t want to be reminded how hurt a good chunk of the fanbase is by Kanaya getting hurt this badly.

Original Tavros was always SLIGHTLY perceptive of others sometimes, but maybe perceptiveness is being hinted at as a Tavros specialty? We still don’t know his classpect/hero-title or have any firm guesses based on purely him evidence. (Also, frightened kids of abusive households tend to learn to get perceptive pretty fucking quickly I hear.)

> (==>)

TG: dad was sitting in the cafeteria with aunt jade and your moms. TG: it looked like they were discussing something important... they were whispering and stuff.

[etc etc] Alright, the what-happened-to-Dave bit. And I imagine they’re kind of helping John grieve there, since Rose and Jade have talked that out already.

TG: aunt kanaya's was the only face i could see. TG: she was standing next to them, but she wasn't looking at what was going on. TG: almost like she couldn't bear to. AG: I doubt it. Kanaya's got a8out as much Emotivity as a very reclusive stone. TG: ok, i think that is bullshit but whatever. TG: she saw me standing there, but didn't say anything. she just shook her head slightly, and pointed back out into the hallway i came down.

Yep, giving them some space to grieve. Also-- gosh, shouldn’t Vrissy have the same emotive senses that Aranea implied Vriska shared with her? Kanaya isn’t that EXPRESSIVE but she’s certainly full of emotion. Also, I hope part of her not bearing to watch wasn’t lingering anger toward Jade and Rose mixing with that, but there probably was a bit of that too, though Dave being gone is so much harsher than that. --I just realized they might not have broken the news to Karkat yet, either.

AG: I guesadxcxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz TG: vrissy?

Put to sleep by someone slumping down on your phone keypad, or surprised by something about the other conversation?

Oh shit, “other conversation” reminded me I didn’t look at Tavros’s chumhandle:

glutinousGymnast [GG]

HHHHHhhhhuh. Hm... huh? hhhh. huh? what, but. Why would. ?????

I really don’t understand what that chumhandle or any of its entendres should signify in this context.

Also, this means for our new four kids we have TG, GG, AG, and ??.

> (==>)

GG: I think she might have succumbed to sleep quite suddenly,,, GG: It would explain the,,,,,, interesting messages I've been getting for a while,,, TG: hehe. TG: i guess that tracks. TG: she does that from time to time.

That’s... strange. Homestuck’s taught us to be suspicious of that.

TG: ... TG: tav? GG: Yes,,, harry anderson,,,? TG: what does it feel like to know someone who's died?

Who is Harry referring to? (EDIT: Yes I know Gamzee for Tavros, but I meant Harry talks like he's worried he'll have to feel that way soon?) Is he just kind of inferring that something bad might have happened to Uncle Dave? Got that perceptive “parents are about to tell me about a death in the family” vibe? Or did he overhear more than he let on to Vrissy?

...alright, that’s the last page of this update. Looks like this chapter is going to continue to have a good bunch of grieving, or talk around it.

---

Now for Bonus Commentary for A Threat, Sensed. For some reason I have a dim memory of like... reading this myself without commenting on it? Or skimming it? But I’m pretty sure I didn’t do that. Weird. Must have imagined doing it.

Ah, I think I saw the opening paragraph scrolling Patreon, and my mind kinda filled in the blanks, this is still looking new to me.

Okay, mostly banter and japes in the commentary here. About Dirk “throwing a huge tantrum in his philosophy cave”.

We’ve had quite a bit of speculation on whether this is “really” Andrew. To that, I think we’d say that it doesn’t “really” matter.

Really? That was speculated about? :/

Here we discover that Dirk has not, as some people have speculated, been directly intervening into the Candy timeline, or influencing it in any way. In fact, he has a very hard time seeing anything going on there at all.

Mhmm, and that was a pretty important thing to learn.

A couple of years ago I might have agreed with the take that everything happening in Candy is simply too outlandish to ever happen naturally, without direct, villainous interference, but that was before literally every fucking batshit insane thing that has happened on Real Life Earth started going down, and now I will believe literally anything.

This is a nice bit of distraction from the idea that at least the opening parts of the Candy story were written/narrated by Original, Alive Calliope over on meat side. To refresh your memory of what was pointed out to me:

ROXY: back when jade first got all effed up callie saw somethin and it made them freak out ROXY: it took me weeks to convince them that it was safe to come home ROXY: but now we got the opposite problem and they arent leavin the house at all ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls TEREZI: WH4T? ROXY: its not as bad as it sounds i promise ROXY: some of it is like ROXY: weird and violent?? ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um ROXY: nudity???? TEREZI: >:? ROXY: yeah yikes ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit ROXY: anyway thats kept callie kinda busy

Which tracks with the initial out-of-character-seemingness of almost everyone at the start of Candy, and how they kind of tried to railroad things back onto the “Happy??” track after Dirk derailed it with his weird self-accumulation suicide, along with some of the flowery-idyllic descriptions of characters seeing each other bathed in a halo of light and such.

Of course, they’re not going to out-and-out STATE that Calliope was at fault for that narration, helping the Candy story not necessarily fall out the way it did “naturally”, until we finally get a glimpse of her on the heroes’ ship in Meat probably still painting the continuing Candy events, inspiring them into the void of the singularity with her latent powers. Til then, it’s a bit of misdirection whenever the topic is to be brought up. Along with a mix of Roxy’s late-Candy point to John of more or less “why COULDN’T we have done this naturally? you don’t know”.

He might even think that he has more direct power over the narrative than Hussie does himself. Surprise, motherfucker, you are a fictional character.

I’ll quote this next part in full:

There’s been talk of whether or not this bonus was written in the two days between its release and the Yiffy reveal chapter. The answer is--no. It was written over a month ago. But I think the things it addresses were not difficult to suss out. Obviously, Dirk is highlighting the issues that the readership are having with Yiffy, in his typical Dirk fashion. If it seems a little defensive, well...I suppose it is. Yiffy is one of the two hard lines drawn in the sand, and all of us love her, and we’re hoping that everyone else will love her too. But more than that, it focuses on the fact that update culture has a rhythm to it--shock, revulsion, acceptance (or not), and then excitement (or not). Will it follow that pattern this time? Who knows. I guess we’ll find out.

Yeah, given what was going to be dropped on us I expected they would have had exactly this lined up, especially because Andrew specifically mandated Yiffy. --I wonder why they aren’t mentioning that somewhere in the commentary and only on one of their Twitters?

Also quoting this:

There’s something both incredibly “cringe” and self-indulgent, as well as philosophically intriguing, about the author arguing with his villain, especially since he’s writing both halves of the conversation himself. You are, for all intents and purposes, trying to solve a problem that you have created for yourself. You are looking an aspect of your personality in the eye and asking, hey, what the fuck, man?

But in the end, isn’t that what every story is? Trying to untie knots that you put in the rope yourself?

Since it’s part of the central struggle of this story, and kind of the question Andrew’s tried to imply with every Homestuck work about what right we have to keep these characters trapped in a story, and if they’d be better off escaping it.

I’m really trying to avoid quoting so much of this, since the commentary is paid... but I think we can make an exception here? I’ll have only quoted about half of it; just, the really plot-important half. Plus, I left out a LOOOT of japes.

Dirk has a certain idea of how stories are supposed to go. That’s pretty much what the Epilogues is about. The audience also has a certain expectation of how a story is supposed to go. In a way, the Epilogues were also about that. They were taking a story that had reached the traditionally “acceptable” happily ever after, and saying, wait, no. What happens next? Thinking past happily ever after in any story is a terrifying prospect. Once Cinderella marries the prince, what then? Sure, she got what she wanted, but who knows that it will be everything she dreamt it would? What if she changes her mind, if not today, what about ten years from now? What if the prince dies of malaria?

And I’m...

Yeah I don’t have anything else to add here, I’m kind of out of brain juice to think about this tonight. BUSY day I had. Y’all take care!

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #spoiler #spoilers #Homestuck Commentary

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enchanted-prose · 4 years

Text

#8 Just a Day in the Life

100th post = returning from teeny tiny hiatus! Special thank you to my darling editor, and @ piratekingimogen for screaming about the lack of Jarogen fluff in the fandom with me!

Word count: 5,295

Characters: Jaron, Princess Amarinda, Feall (Original Character), King Oberson (Original Character), Harlowe, Imogen

Notes: Expect a few fluffy fics hurtling towards you, please consult your dentist if you develop cavities bc it’s too sweet and it happened to me. Edited

Enjoy!

Jaron drummed his fingers against his right leg.

The leg he'd broken.

Sometimes he touched it to make sure that it was still healed. Even though it had been years since he'd gotten the injury, he still had trouble realizing that he was alright.

He wasn't broken.

Lord Feall and King Oberson were seated in front of him, separated by Jaron's large desk. Both men were silent. Both were unable to look at Jaron for very long.

In a way, Jaron enjoyed watching them squirm, they'd crossed a line by not telling him about Queen Danika's missing investigators sooner.

Was this how Mott felt each time Jaron did something he wasn't supposed to and got himself caught?

"Your Majesty, we-," Oberson began, but he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"We'll discuss the situation when the ambassador arrives," said Jaron.

However, Feall didn't agree with Jaron's declaration, it seemed. "If I must be honest, we don't even know the situation anymore."

"Lady Amarinda does, and we'll wait for her to come before we make any assumptions, Lord Feall. I'm a little disappointed, I thought we were friendly enough to discuss political matters."

Feall frowned, and didn't respond.

Boredom was turning Jaron's feet to stone. He hated being bored. There was too much to do and too much to see.

And it was raining still.

He promised Fink they'd go out and hunt for frogs to terrorize Roden with.

The door to Jaron's study creaked open, and in walked Amarinda in a wide-necked blue gown. Her hair was strung up in a golden net. There wasn't any sign of a frown on her face. She dipped her head in greeting when Jaron, Feall, and Oberson stood up.

"My lords," she smiled. "I've brought several papers with me if you'd much rather read my words rather than listen to what I have to say."

"Please, start from the beginning. Reading wastes time," Jaron waved his hand in a dismissing motion. He was joking, of course.

Oberson shrunk in his seat with his head in his hands, but aside from his posture, didn't voice any complaint about listening to Amarinda's debrief.

There were some people who could dominate their foes on the battlefield. Others could crush their enemies without shedding a drop of blood. They could outwit their opponents with words.

Amarinda was a battle master when it came to using words for weapons. She never degraded her opponents with crude words. Never compared people to dehumanizing objects. She recognized that while people didn't agree with her, they were still human beings.

This was how she guided her foes into a corner, their only option being to take her hand and join her cause.

Her goal was not to destroy. Her goal was to create, that's what Tobias claimed.

And he was right.

Amarinda created gateways for better ideals.

Jaron caught himself grinning as he prepared for what Amarinda had to say.

She clasped her hands behind her back. "Gentlemen, we share a home country. One we take pride in. We've given many privileges to those who prove themselves to be just servants of society, but unfortunately, there was an abuse of power several years ago. I know you are aware of what happened on Idunn Craich to Noble House Thay. Rumors were sparked and an entire family was executed without a proper trial.

"Though Their Majesties Queen Danika and King Norman don't condone chasing every rumor they hear, they've made an exception. They were informed that Mireldis Thay, who would've been a child during her house's execution, managed to escape into Carthya. Many of the most skilled researchers and investigators were sent to Carthya to confirm these rumors. Their goal was to find evidence supporting Thay's innocence, and bring her home.They were stopped on their way here for several days, and during that time, I was informed that you King Oberson, went out of your way to visit them without informing the Carthyan Crown that they'd arrived," Amarinda held her head high, almost challenging Oberson to deny her claims.

He didn't, not couldn't he.

Many people had seen him ride out to meet with Danika's representatives.

A heavy pause hung over the air. Both Jaron and Amarinda were waiting for either men to try to deny her claims.

When they didn't speak, Jaron nodded. It was his turn to continue the conversation.

"Lord Feall, I was told by my captain of the guard that the investigators who were sent here were, in actuality, trying to find evidence against Thay, and that you were promoting the search in defiance of Queen Danika's orders, is this true?" Jaron kept his gaze steady, looking for any flaws in Feall's face that would betray him.

Another heavy pause.

Feall didn't squirm, and he looked at Jaron with a fierce, burning loyalty in his eyes. "King Jaron, I did request that the investigators search for evidence against Thay as well."

He fell silent.

Probably waiting for Jaron to condemn him.

However, Jaron was intrigued. He appreciated Feall's honesty. It was something that didn't come often within circles of power. Jaron motioned for Feall to continue.

"I felt a duty to ensure justice," Feall remained stoic. "While I do believe that Thay is innocent, I don't agree with only playing one side. Without considering if House Thay was really guilty, it is possible that Queen Danika's quest for reparations will bring disaster upon Bymar. Thay would likely take revenge, and as a servant to my country and to yours, I will not allow that to happen."

Amarinda's face darkened, but only for a moment. If Jaron hadn't known her so well, he would've missed her momentary weakness.

Though he wanted to support his friend, Jaron couldn't deny that Feall had a perfectly good point.

People weren't black and white.

Too much mystery shrouded what happened with House Thay.

"Do you have any reason to believe that Thay would cause harm?" asked Jaron as he tapped his chin.

Perhaps he should grow a small beard. People might take him more seriously if he stroked his beard each time he was about to say something. Many regents tried to do that, usually it was right before they did their best to be an advisor to Jaron.

If you were going to act the part, you needed to look the part.

To Jaron's surprise, it was Oberson who answered the question, and not Feall. The portly king withdrew a letter from within his coat. "The seal belongs to Thay, and you- and you can read what she wrote yourself. It was sent to me, but it- but it is clearly directed at Lord Feall."

Jaron beckoned for the letter.

The words had been written in jet black ink, and the paper was much cleaner than Jaron would've expected. The curling letters obviously belonged to a woman.

Several words had been misspelled:

King Obrson, I understand you've travelled with lord Feall. you know how much he owes me, and I reqest that you give him to me. if you comply, I promise I wont bother you again. please understand my perspective on this, you know me, sir, you know my family

So, Feall did indeed have a good reason to think that Thay was guilty.

"What would you do with Thay if you found her?" Amarinda kept a calm demeanor.

"I would return her to Queen Danika," Feall explained "Unless, however, she attacks me outright. In which case I would have jurisdiction to decide her fate. An eye for an eye."

"Those laws may work in Bymar, but that's not how we do things here."

"Then, by all means, my lady, I would try to go through with Carthya's judicial process."

Unlike other countries, Jaron didn't enjoy upholding the notion that for every crime committed, you could commit the same in return. Instead, he'd tried to emulate Mendenwal's way of enforcing justice: a vote by a body of people. Typically, two options were given, usually suggested by those who'd been the victim of the crime and the other given by the king.

Death penalties for crimes had to be completely unanimous.

"Do you think that Thay is trying to attack you still?" Amarinda asked, her hands clasped behind her back once again.

Both Feall and Oberson nodded.

"Which explains why he's looking for the Faola," nodded Jaron.

"Captain Harlowe informed me that the Faola only began traipsing through Carthya a few days before King Oberson and I arrived."

"This doesn't excuse the fact that you didn't tell us that you lied to me and Lady Amarinda about Queen Danika's representatives."

"And I humbly apologize for that," Feall held his hand over his heart. "If there is a way for me to prove my regret, tell me, and I will do so."

If he and Feall had been better friends, Jaron would've made a joke about the only way to prove his loyalty was by cleaning Jaron's feet, but he doubted the offer would go over well.

Jaron looked to Amarinda, wondering if she had anything in mind.

She only frowned ever so slightly.

There were many ways that Jaron could force Feall to prove his loyalty. Cruel and humiliating ways. Feall had to have known that. He had to have known the depth of his words.

He'd quite literally given Jaron power over him.

But Jaron didn't enjoy watching people endure humiliation of any sorts. He didn't think that proving loyalty should come at the expense of anyone's dignity.

A clever idea crossed Jaron's mind.

"I'd like you to continue helping Captain Harlowe in patrolling the streets of Drylliad," began Jaron, carefully masking his cleverness. "But you must leave capturing the Faola to him, as well as my friend, Mott. You must trust us to take care of the situation, and that's how I'll know that I can continue to trust you."

Feall inhaled deeply, his brows furrowing together. "Sir, I can't, what you-. No, I mean yes. I will do as you ask, your Majesty."

"Take good care to tread lightly, Lord Feall, this test also represents King Oberson."

"What?" King Oberson burst, his chubby cheeks jiggling with his ferocious outcry. "You can't do this! I need Feall to protect me!"

"You have all of Carthya's guards to keep you safe, as well as your own," Amarinda pointed out.

Several more spluttering protests escaped through Oberson's plump mouth, but eventually, he realized that no amount of begging would get Jaron to change his mind.

A victory, in a way.

Jaron was getting another capable military leader to ensure safety in his city, he'd done his best to uphold justice, and he managed to gain a better understanding about the Thay dilemma.

Unfortunately, however, he also recognized that he probably wouldn't ever understand what happened on Idunn Craich.

But perhaps Avenia's king, Kippenger, might know a little bit.

He hadn't been to Avenia in ages, and was overdue for a visit to check in on the reforming nation. Jaron made a mental note to suggest a diplomatic mission to Sparling.

Everybody could use a little change of scenery.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do, your majesty?" Feall asked, sitting as tall as he could in his chair.

"Yes, I'd quite like it if you gave me your desserts as well. Especially the fancier ones with the tiny decorations." Jaron frowned when Amarinda snorted, as he was being completely serious.

A tiny smile flickered across Feall's face. "If that is what you wish, your Majesty."

"It is what I wish, actually."

"Then I solemnly swear to do all that I can to ensure that your wish is fulfilled. When would you like me to begin patrolling the streets? Would you prefer me to ask Captain Harlowe my questions, or would you like me to ask you?"

Ah, Jaron hadn't thought of any questions that might need answering.

"Go to Captain Harlowe," he said. "And if Captain Harlowe can't answer them, bring your questions to me. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir.”

Several days ago, Imogen’s new lady-in-waiting, Renlyn Karise, pointed out just how bland the great hall was. Of course, Jaron had taken down and sold many decorations on purpose, but Lady Renlyn’s various attempts to sell him exquisite imported decor were slowly growing on him.

No, he needed to use the royal purse to better the lives of his subjects first.

Beautification could come later.

When he settled into his throne and allowed for his first subject to come forward, Jaron fooled himself into thinking that court would be smooth and quick.

However, as he heard his forty-ninth claim about chickens, he realized that court was going to drag on into the next decade.

It was then that Jaron began wondering if he should heed Renlyn’s advice and have her decorate the great hall.

Maybe he’d have something more interesting to look at than whitewashed stone walls.

Jaron tapped his chin as he listened to complaint after complaint after complaint. He did his best to listen. Did his best to be a good king, but his patience was running out.

“We have never had a dispute between property before,” said a man from outside the city walls. He was holding a chicken, and pointing at the other villager beside him ever so often. “Always got along, me an’ him, we never did fight. Respected his property, I did, an’ he respected mine. But one day a chicken wandered through both of our yards-”

The chicken holding villager’s friend cut in. “A chicken wandered through both a’ our yards an’ then laid an egg on the line between our two properties!”

“We didn’t really worry about it because we’ve both got our chickens. It wasn’t really worth our time.”

“And then the egg hatched, it did! An’ now we don’t know what to do wif it! It’s a good layer, we’ve been tradin’ off every couple a days, but that just doesn’t cut it! We need you to decide for us!” Finished the second villager, vehemently pointing at the chicken tucked under the first villager’s arm.

“Well, I suppose that answers an age old question. What came first, the chicken, or the egg?” Jaron mused, buying himself time through a joke.

Both villagers frowned.

By the Saints, he didn’t like explaining jokes, humor always lost when it needed to be explained.

"There's a riddle people tend to ask when they want to annoy somebody," Jaron explained, sitting forwards in his throne. "They ask what came first, the chicken? Or the egg? And in this case, it was the chicken who came first. Actually, I suppose even that chicken came from an egg. What a conundrum."

"But who gets the chicken?" Asked the second villager with a frown.

"Who cares for it more?"

Both men raised their hands, trying to jostle each other out of the way. The second villager raised his hand to smack the first villager across the back of his bald head.

The first villager only tucked the chicken into his chest and ducked.

No blows were given, the second villager wasn't stupid enough to start a fight in the throne room.

"I have a proposition," said Jaron. He knew it didn't really matter, as he was the king, but he tried to involve his subjects in decision making as much as he possibly could.

"We're listening, your Majesty." The second villager bowed until his nose brushed his boots.

On the other hand, the first villager only bowed as far as he could without risking dropping the chicken.

A slight smirk crossed Jaron's face. "How many eggs does the chicken lay each day?"

"One, like the other chickens," the second villager nodded. "I checked every morning while I housed the chicken."

"Actually she lays one egg on the first day of the week, one on the second day, but she lays two on the third day if she is fed scraps from the table instead a grain," the first villager said proudly, holding the fat hen up for everyone to see.

The hen gave a tiny cluck.

"It's worse than I thought," Jaron muttered, wishing he had Mott beside him to joke with.

"You- you haven't decided who gets the chicken?" The first villager stuttered. "But-"

"He's the king, you fool, he can take as much time as he wants."

Jaron tilted his head at the first villager, who was nervously petting the chicken he cradled.

He wanted to smile with somebody. Wanted to smile about the fact that somebody loved their chicken so much that they knew how many eggs she laid every day.

If he were a cruel king, Jaron would've called for the hen to go to the kitchens, only to declare that he wasn't being serious and give the hen back to her rightful owner.

But over time, he'd learned that some tricks and pranks weren't truly funny.

"I know what's best in this situation," Jaron declared, waving the two villagers away and motioning for the next petitioner to come forward. "The man holding the chicken the same way he'd hold his newborn son gets to give her a permanent home."

He ignored the complaints from the second villager as they were escorted out of the great hall.

The next petitioner was a young man, requesting that his father be taken out of debtor's prison. Jaron, who was prepared to fight with nobles over situations with people in debt, agreed on the premise that the young man return to inform them if there was another threat from debt-collectors.

Ah, Jaron did get quite the rise out of showing kindness when the nobles had none.

Court went much quicker after that. As he thought of the first villager happily carrying his hen home, Jaron grinned.

How somebody could love a chicken so much, he didn't know.

Late into the afternoon, Harlowe made his way into the great hall, much to Jaron's relief.

He stood and clasped Harlowe's weathered hand, unashamed of how big his smile had grown. "I'm hoping you came to relieve me of my duties."

"I have, actually," Harlowe said with a grin. "Today was much busier than anybody expected, and I didn't think it quite fair to keep you cooped up inside."

"On the contrary, I didn't mind being held up here for once. It's raining with enough fury to challenge the Devils."

"Ah, but you won't let that stop you from what you wish to do with your afternoon, I hope," chuckled Harlowe, his blue eyes sparkling with a glimmer of content.

"Absolutely not." Jaron couldn't hide his smile. "My bones are aching from sitting."

"I wish I could tell you that aching goes away, but it only gets worse. No, no, I tease."

Jaron couldn't resist. He threw his arms around Harlowe's neck in a sloppy embrace. "Thank you, thank you for coming to fill in."

Harlowe patted Jaron's shoulder. "As prime regent, it's my obligation to ensure that the king can handle his duties. And as someone who cares about you, it's my obligation to make sure you don't run yourself into the ground."

It was still odd. . .

Having multiple people care about his well being.

"I really appreciate it, Harlowe, and I mean it."

"Then go, my king." That sparkling contentment in Harlowe's eyes rivaled the lazy Roving River. "Your friends await you."

Was it wrong to take pride in what he’d managed to set up?

It had taken almost all afternoon, and required the help from not only Roden and Tobias, but from Jolly, Lady Renlyn, and Mott too.

In the end, it was perfect.

For several weeks, Jaron had been meaning to take Imogen away from the hustle and bustle of castle life. Although they weren’t in a position to leave for more than a day or two, they could manage to spare a night away from their duties.

And he’d finally done it.

“Don’t tell Imogen anything,” Jaron said firmly, trying his best to stare down Lady Renlyn Karise as they stood in one of the castle hallways.

It wasn’t easy.

Lady Renlyn was taller than him by a good inch.

“I promise I won’t tell,” Renlyn crossed her arms. “But be thankful, the queen isn’t always the type to enjoy a surprise.”

“See, people say that, but then get excited when they’re surprised.”

Renlyn only stared in response.

“Mad that I got you cornered?” No, no answer from that either. Jaron waved his hands in defeat. “You’re dismissed, I don’t need you and your disapproval.”

“Disapproval?” Renlyn arched an eyebrow.

“Yes! Disapproval, you’re not exactly subtle about it, Lady Karise.”

“Good, it means I’ve finally got my point across.”

“Aren’t you in a feisty mood today?” Jaron snickered, putting his hands on his hips.

He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he wanted from Renlyn. She was remaining completely placid. “This is how I always behave, my king.”

“Is not, you’re nicer to me.”

“On the contrary, I think I’m being nicer to you now.”

He’d known the Karises before.

From his days when his family was still alive.

Jaron hadn’t been the closest to Renlyn when they were children, it’s true. She’d rather mix various ingredients together to eliminate her least favorite dolls while Jaron would rather track dirt all over the place.

In a way, it also reflected the way they handled situations at court.

Renlyn wasn’t afraid to do what needed to be done. Already the notorious gossipers of court were spreading their opinions on Renlyn’s ambition. She had but one fear: Recognition. Most of her opponents slipped away in the night, never to disturb her again.

Jaron would much rather stay away from gossipers and the like.

Made things less messy.

Unfortunately, Jaron didn’t get his retort spoken in time, as Renlyn walked away, taking the final say with her as she went to Imogen’s study.

Their exchange couldn’t bring Jaron down from the excitement searing through his veins.

Each step he took made him feel light, yet heavy. Time couldn’t pass fast enough. He was beginning to pace. To the wall. Back to where he’d stood. To the wall again. Back to where he stood. The pattern continued for what seemed like ages, but Jaron knew better than that.

The clock stationed by the door, a huge monster of wood and metal, chimed.

It was better that a few minutes passed rather than no minutes at all, Jaron reasoned.

And then Imogen quietly stepped into the room.

Dressed in a pale blue blouse with matching split skirts, Imogen couldn’t hide her smile. For a moment, Jaron suspected that Renlyn spilled the secret surprise waiting just outside the castle walls.

He offered an arm out to Imogen, escorting her through the great hall and out into the courtyard.

“I really hope there’s no crocodiles involved,” Imogen muttered as Jaron helped her into Mystic’s saddle.

Jaron cringed as comically as he could, and then swung into place right behind Imogen. “Well, ah, guess you’re not going to like what I have in store.”

Imogen’s laugh was worth all of the hassle Jaron had put into his special surprise.

The sun was barely dipping down below the horizon, throwing golden rays of light into the crisp air. A slight shimmer appeared on Imogen’s cheeks. Jaron pressed a kiss to her temple, her hair, her chin, anywhere he could reach.

She was giggling when she pushed his face away.

“Let me kiss you, silly girl,” Jaron hummed, only to once again be pushed away.

“Absolutely not, it’s embarrassing!”

“I want the entire kingdom to know how much I love my wife! It’s not embarrassing at all!”

“Yes it is!”

“No it’s not!”

“Get your filthy lips off my hair,” Imogen laughed. “I’m serious, Jaron! You’re going to run us into a-,” suppressed giggles prevented her from finishing her sentence.

“Last one, I promise.” True to his word, Jaron pressed one last kiss to Imogen’s temple, and pulled away.

Imogen leaned back against his chest. “Renlyn and I were discussing what to do with the trio of children Roden brought to us.”

“Please tell me you gave them new names.”

“We suggested it, but they didn’t seem to catch onto the idea.”

“What did you and Lady Renlyn decide? Are you going to ship them off?”

“Quite the contrary, actually,” Imogen was smiling, Jaron could hear it in her voice. “Renlyn took the subject to a business ally she has in court, and the children are to become wards here in court. We’ll be able to keep an eye on them.”

“I do love more company, maybe those three will take the spotlight off of my antics.”

“Very unlikely, but you can always hope that’ll happen.”

“Oh Imogen of such little faith.”

“Oh Jaron of such high energy.”

With a snicker, Jaron buried his face in her hair for a moment. “Copying my words now are you?”

“I suppose I am.”

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery.”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Imogen countered. “Do you prefer that I copy everything you say? Is that what makes you happy?”

“Is that what makes me happy? No, it doesn’t.”

“Then what does?”

“Being with you.”

A blush spread across Jaron’s face despite the fact that he was the one saying silly flowering comments, not the one they were directed at.

He loved Imogen.

She was safe.

Without the company of guards, it was much easier to have a personal conversation.

Much easier for both Jaron and Imogen to just. . . be together.

“I, ah, I confronted Feall and King Oberson,” Jaron said over the sound of Mystic’s hooves on Drylliad’s cobblestone streets.

Imogen reached back, her hand trailing down the side of his face. “And what happened?”

The simple, shy gesture left warmth careening through his toes. Jaron tightened his arms around her waist. His heart pounded through his ribcage, but not with fear.

His heart pounded with pure, sunshine comfort.

Sunshine comfort that didn’t fade away with each new morning.

“I questioned them both, and made an offer to Feall. He trusts us to take care of the Faola, and I won’t expel him back to Bymar,” said Jaron. “I, ah, I’m playing this game for the long run.”

“As you should,” Imogen gestured to a group of ducklings swimming in the Roving River, then motioned for Jaron to continue.

He shrugged, “I plan on speaking with Kippenger.”

“Regarding House Thay?”

“Yes, but also no. Kippenger is my ally despite the history between us. I want to ensure his, and Avenia’s, success. I want to know if Carthya needs to send aid in any form, and if we need to, I fully intend to send the best.”

Kippenger was a new king.

There was no doubt that there were some Avenians who disagreed on Kippenger’s right to reign.

Revolution had to be brewing on their minds.

Imogen paused, connecting what Jaron said and what he was implying. “You need a backup in case you have to send Roden and military reinforcements to Avenia.”

“I don’t want to put Mott in any more danger than he puts himself in,” Jaron muttered. “Feall’s reputation is spotless. He wouldn’t be there for very long either, maybe a few weeks. And it’s-”

“Jaron, you don’t have to explain your choices. I trust your judgement.” Imogen said, but then she tilted her head, preparing to amend her statement. “I trust your judgement when it comes to people.”

“You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Though she didn’t say anything, Jaron could feel her quiet grin radiating through the air.

They rode in silence through the woods, waving at the few people they passed, and breathing in the sunset air.

And yet, despite the comfort, Jaron couldn’t fight the anxiety gnawing at his insides any longer.

What if Imogen didn’t like what he’d set out for her?

What if-

No.

If Lady Renlyn Karise, notorious stone-faced, heartless, ambitious businesswoman, liked what had been set out, Imogen certainly would.

The road curved left. Imogen only protested slightly when Jaron guided Mystic to continue straight.

“We, ah, I’m going to dismount,” Jaron stuttered. “But you can stay on, I’ll just guide Mystic.”

“I can walk,” Imogen insisted.

“If- ah, if you want to, I won’t stop you.”

He knew she’d enjoy the surprise, and yet, he was afraid.

Afraid that she wouldn’t-

No. Imogen was his wife. There was nothing to be scared of.

Nimbly, Jaron dismounted, and held out a hand for Imogen to do the same. He held Mystic’s reins with one hand, and entwined his fingers with Imogen’s with the other.

“Your palms are sweaty, Jaron. Are you alright?”

“I dipped them in the fountain before we came, they must not have dried.”

“You’re acting a little- oh.” Her face shifted from confusion, and then to shock.

Before them, Jaron had brought a ragged quilt he’d found in Tithio, boasting squares Imogen’s mother had made herself. Large pillows were scattered about in all shapes and sizes, some hidden behind additional blankets.

Plates of food rested on curling iron stands. A bucket of ice housed two large bottles of something sweet, Jaron hadn’t been able to decide what to take, so he relied on his head chef’s opinion. Candles on holders and stands were placed in clusters in strategic positions. Crystals hung from tree branches.

“I thought about bringing music, but I could only think of Jolly, and I didn’t want him eating everything I brought,” Jaron said sheepishly. “This- this,ah, isn’t all. I have-”

“I love it, Jaron, I absolutely love it,” Imogen was quiet, her fingers steepled together and resting against her nose.

“That’s not all, I, ah, there’s more to the surprise.”

Fink’s head poked out from one of the trees, but thankfully disappeared the second Jaron frantically shooed him away.

Imogen was still marvelling at the quilt. “This is perfect.”

Once again, Fink appeared.

Changing his plan, Jaron motioned for Fink to bring the final gift. The transaction happened in the knick of time, Fink was dashing back to the castle before Imogen looked up from the quilt squares.

Jaron held the package behind his back. “I, um, I couldn’t resist. I wanted to spend time with you. Just you, Imogen.”

“I really appreciate it,” her smile was tinged with a bright pink blush. “I don’t-, I don’t really know what to say.”

“This will probably make it worse, then.”

“Jaron? What are you-?”

He held out the package for Imogen to see.

In his hands, rested a cream colored cat with a bright pink bow hanging loosely from its neck. Imogen covered her face with her arm for a moment. When she finally looked at the kitten again, she was beaming.

“You got me a kitten,” she mumbled, covering her bright pink cheeks with her hands. “Is it mine?”

“If you want it, yes. And ‘it’ is a ‘she’, if that influences what her name is going to be,” Jaron said as he sat down beside Imogen, holding the small cat out to her.

“Where did you find her?”

Jaron didn’t mean for an instant scowl to ruin his smile. “Renlyn sold it to me.”

“Ah, I think I know why,” Imogen scratched the cat’s ears. “We were discussing different royal pets. Supposedly, there are specific cats you can train to listen to you.”

“I’m not quite sure how true that is, especially coming from Renlyn.”

“We’ll just have to find out.”

The tiny cat mewed, and tried to climb up Imogen’s blouse sleeve. She untied the ribbon, cradling the cat to herself.

Nothing in the world could’ve made Jaron feel the same way that Imogen’s smile did.

#okay I love jarogen don't yell at me #prince jaron #imogen #some people don't ship them and I don't blame them but that means its my duty to convince them that theyre wrong #the ascendance series #the ascendance trilogy #the false prince #fic friday #fic Friday except its a sunday

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paulieshore · 4 years

Text

Part 2 Obey Me / SCM Au Series

Warnings: conflict of interest, curses, drama, minor angst

Words 2670

I do not own the rights to these characters, characters belong to:

· Obey me! Shall we date

· Star crossed myth - Voltage

Part 2: Obey Me / SCM Au Series

*Note:

Turns out I have been spelling Hue’s name wrong by one letter LOL ‘Huedhaut’ is Hue aka Huedaut, God of Aquarius … Sorry for all previous chapters misspelling his name, ill edit it when i can be arsed. <3

Chapter 1: Shame on You

Lucifer’s Pov

As I passed by the mirror of the bathroom, I was slightly taken by surprise by my sight.

When did I get so weak?

My clothes were in shambles, I couldn’t tell whose blood was whose. My skin was filthy, riddled with marks and scruffs. Thankfully my demon powers started healing my wounds, though my energy still felt depleted.

I wonder how she must be feeling? The thought occurred to me.

Walking to the doorway, peeking to the unconscienced beauty on the sofa. Her eyes closed; fear swelled inside me; hoping they would open soon.

Such a fragile life, even in my own anger I had nearly done the unthinkable to her. My mind was racing with so many questions, neither mind nor heart aligned.

Is that why I feel the way I do towards Y/N? Is it guilt that compels me to care? Does this have to do with mother or Lilith, or is this guilt for my brother?

Mammon… I scold myself for being so reckless; shame on you.

I should have known he would go to her, even when told not to. When does he ever listen to warnings or advice? A fleeting smile creeps on my face as I think about it, gone far to soon as my thoughts wonder.

I got careless, oh perhaps I didn’t care enough.

So many feelings and emotions stirring, things I thought I’d lost long ago.

I have fallen so far from grace, and feel as though I continue to fall.

Shame on you.

Inside the House of Lamentation

Lucifer stormed out of the hall with Y/N, the remaining five brothers and Solomon; silent as the grave. Each of them seeming to be thinking the same things.

‘Mammon the Idiot.’

The house was quiet without his noise, far too quiet.

Lucifer asked that they believed in Huedhaut but, they had already been let down by him; twice. How could they believe in him now after so long…?

…

Beel breaks the silence “Do you think it’s worth praying for him?” Looking to Belphie

Solomon replies before anyone else is able too, “Can you?”

They all look at him dumbfoundedly.

“What do you mean, Solomon?” Asmo asks

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever known demons to pray, and to whom?”

A genuine question, which none of them, had any idea where to start.

…

Solomon suggests something, “Why don’t you pray directly to him then?”

Demon’s Lord Castle

Huedhaut’s Pov

I truly did not believe Kivy, my king, my old friend, would save Mammon.

I turned to the young prince of the underworld, betting on the chance he may. Mammon wasn’t gone yet; I could feel his soul still intact. I however, did not possess the power it required to heal him completely.

I proposed to Diavolo, in exchange for his help, I would grant him one wish.

Whatever that may be.

Kivy will surely want my head, but I already owed these boys so much. I was willing to do anything at this point; I know Fate would agree with me. Seeking balance for all that I didn’t do, or maybe I’m searching to be punished further?

“Lord Huedhaut, in aiding you with this and granting me said wish… Will you not fall from grace?” The young prince asks me. His pitch hiked slightly, and dipped deep again; uneasy.

Whether he was genuinely concerned or merely probing my emotions was futile.

“I cannot say for certain but, I will be tried in court. That is definite.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look away from Mammon, one blink and he could truly be gone. Shame on you Huedhaut; I could practically hear Fate cursing me for failing our children.

“Then who’s to say that I, Prince; will not be tried too? For interfering in such affairs”

A reasonable counter, I thought. His last words nearly had me laughing out loud though, playing the innocence card?

“You weren’t punished for your last ‘interference’, why should this be any different?” I challenged him, what more did I have chance of losing?

“It was I that came to you, it was I and I alone that proposed this deal. So, it will be me, Huedhaut; who will face whatever may.”

I looked to Diavolo, and meant every word, then turned my sight back to Mammon.

They stood together against Kivy when Lilith broke the law. I once again took the kings side over my family… Not this time, not anymore.

Third times a charm? Isn’t that what the mortals say.

Heaven

Simeon and Luke were just informed of the recent events, all of heaven in an uproar.

“What should be do Simeon?”

“Honestly I don’t kno-”

Simeon stopped talking mid-sentence, a faint chant filling his ears.

Luke’s head shot back and forth, barking out “Can you hear that? Those voices?”

Simeon stood still and closed his eyes, listening further. A smile spreads across his face.

“They’re praying.”

Zyglavis was reporting to Kivy when sounds start to fill the throne room. Zyglavis was unable to finish his report, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the voices.

The King too is amused “seems even black sheep are in need of guidance” his laugh drowns out all other noises.

He would allow this once; their voices to be received to the recipient.

…

The House of Gods

Partheno slips in, he knew there was going to be questions to his disappearance. Weirdly though no one was bombarding him, it felt suspicious.

He enters the common room “Urg, you would not believe the day I have had?!”

No one takes any notice of him; they all seem to be listening to something.

“Gents? Am I being ignored?” He pretends to pout. “I know I shouldn’t have skipped out on”

Scorpio scowls at him “SHHH, listen!”

They all fall silent again, prayers can be heard in almost a whisper.

Teorus points out, “Those voices, can it be?”

“You know, I feel sorta sad for them…” Aigonorus barely squeaks out.

Ichthys and Dui nod their heads in agreement.

The Human Realm

*SNAP*

Karno and Leon were feeling the toll, dealing with the aftermath and erasing memories. Took a lot out of them, luckily though the news cameras were not live filming. Fiddling with mortal minds was a breeze, fiddling with a dozen mortal minds in a polluted realm was another. Luckily, they only had to deal with a relevantly small community, between the two of them they divided the work.

Leon was feeling a bit annoyed no one else came to aid them, not that he needed help.

“Chief, that’s the last of them.” Karno walks up to him, whose sprawled out on a bench. His head hanging over the back, arms draped over the back support of it.

“I hate the human realm; I feel disgusting.”

Karno laughs featherily, “Well to be fair, you are covered head to toe in filth.”

Leon shoots him a dirty glare, stands up and begins walking away. “Well if were done here, let’s leave to Devildom immediately. The sooner we finish the sooner I can have a drink”

“Leon, we should head back to The King and report before doing so.”

“No, we are not going back until we have the girl. She’s in danger Karno, more importantly look what she has done here. Whether it was intentional or not, she can not be allowed the freedom to roam. Let alone the fact now those demons see what she can do, how do you think they’ll manipulate her” He turns and notices the look on Karno’s face. “Is there something you’re not telling me, my vice minister?”

He looks down, guilt written all over his face. Nodding “Yes, which is why we must report to the King.”

Leon pauses, Karno was not one to lie to him. Which led him to believe that whatever it was, the king’s opinion was indeed needed as much as he disliked admitting it. “Very well, but then I WILL be going to Devildom, even if I have to go alone.”

Devildom

“It’s rather simply, Barbatos will place me in another time line. I will swap the Mammon here, with the Mammon there.” Huedhaut outline’s his plan.

“I see where you are going with this. However, in doing so, we will cause a ripple affect within all other time lines. Mammon’s fate has already been sealed.” Barbatos points out.

“You’ve done something rather similar before no, and look how well that faired out.” Hue was done with their petty mind games.

He did not like people taking him for a fool.

Barbatos face was slapped with truth and shock. Diavolo squinted his eyes to the god, it seems the heavens were well informed on what has been going on within his kingdom.

“So, let’s just get straight to it. I have seen how this will play out, and what exactly is needed to be done in order to do so. I will do it; I need to get back to the day Mammon snuck out of school. That is when I will swap and set everything up.”

Diavolo doesn’t quite understand what Huedhaut intends to do “Set everything up?”

“Yes, someone was following them that day; Crow. I will use that given opportunity as an assassination on Mammon. There for, feeding fuel to the fire, the others will believe Mammon was killed by the disciple even in that time line. I can use my powers, not be seen or detected, and bring Mammon safely back here. However, I will need you though Diavolo, as prince you are relevant in all the timelines. You must keep the secret of the truth to yourself in that alternative time line, I will come to you there and explain in further detail.” Giving Barbatos the side eye.

Diavolo realises then, Huedhaut was indeed a god not to be toyed with. He wasn’t just known for being wise, but being dangerously clever. It started to make sense, the similarities he saw in Lucifer, the siblings and him. The past started to piece itself together “Very well then, you have my word.”

“I need your permission, grant me power to carry out my task.”

Diavolo’s eyebrow raises suspiciously, “I; Diavolo, first of my name, prince of the underworld. Grant you, Huedhaut; the power to carry out your quest, under the regulations and laws that guard my people.”

No sooner after those words left his mouth, Huedhaut glowed. It momentarily blinded both him and Barbatos, as the light faded and Huedhaut could be seen again. He was no longer in uniform; he was in god form.

It was stupendous, he wore holy attire, set on his forehead a golden diadem. Dark blue clothes draped on his sleek and lean figure. Around his neck was a two overlaid gold necklace that sat tidily on his collarbone, dangling from gold links were 3 inched; sapphire gems that sparkled like crystal blue stars. The necklace matched the diadem on his head and the sandals upon his feet. His right arm covered with more deep blue cloth and silver in stitched patterns down the sleeve, which resembled waves. His left arm was mostly bare but two gold accessories; a gold armlet that fit snug around his perfect bicep, another sapphire rock can be seen on it. Around his wrist was a gold bracelet with more pebble size gems, his bottom half was a long skirt, matching the colours above. His upper body was slightly revealed, show casing his glowing skin. Around his waist, a gold and blue sash with patterns that came together and dangled to the right side. The very sight of him screamed divinity and grace from head to toe.

Diavolo was much to busy spectating every inch of Hue, to hear a word the he was saying.

Huedhaut inhaled deeply, “That feels much better, my regards Diavolo.” In an almost sinister voice “Well then Master Barbatos, shall we be off?”

Mammon’s POV

Y/N pointed to me; I didn’t have enough time to turn. The pain that shot into me then my body felt so cold with each spasm around the entry point. It all happened so fast, I think I was stabbed.

I didn’t cry, Me? The great Mammon, never cries…

Okay…fine.

Hell, I cried a little, the hurt was one thing, but the look on her face was the kicker. It sent my mind and heart into torture, while I felt discomfort physically. My body betrayed me and I fell to the ground hard, my mind was the only thing I felt I had a smidge bit of control over.

Soon her face came into view from above, she looked afraid.

Did something else happen, or is that look for me… Am I dying?

She whispered so softly to me, and for a moment I wished we stayed like this forever. Her arms were so warm, I knew she was pretty... But being so close I really seen how pretty she was. Her voice was heavenly, comforting me as I felt myself slipping into panic. I don’t want to die, I tried focusing on all her heavenly features.

“H-hey b-buddy?”

She stuttered, how cute! If it wasn’t for how cold I felt I bet my face would be burning right now. I feel so sleepy, these damn tears just won’t stop. Nothing is agreeing to obey me.

“Y-you’re going to be o-okay, y-you have too! You’re the GREAT M-Mammon after all!”

Damn right I am, thank you for confirming that! I wish I could laugh and make you smile. I really don’t like seeing her like this, lip quivering; she’s starting to cry.

It’s getting harder to breathe now... I notice lights flying above our heads, but I can’t really hear much, nor can I speak. This is annoying... Her voice breaks me from drifting off.

She claims she’s going to save me; she doesn’t look very confident though. Hey! HEY LOOK AT ME! WHO ARE YOU LOOKING AT OTHER THEN THE GREAT MAMMON!?

I muster all the strength I can and barely touch her chin. Her face glistening with tears, with the last of everything I got I try to tell her the truth…

‘You Already Have, Thank You!’ I tried to scream to her face, and smiled. She’s such a worry wort, I’m so glad we became friends; you really are the best.

Then darkness, everything got really quiet.

“Y/N?! Whoa hey my voice is back!”

Not that it mattered, I couldn’t see anything or anyone. I also have feeling again in my body, I give myself a little shake to confirm.

“Nice! Hmm, I wonder where everyone went?” I started wondering around in the dark.

…

I don’t know how long I have been wondering, there’s literally nothing. Even my own hands are shadowed over, what a pain in the ass. Suddenly I hear voices, but I have no idea where they’re coming from.

“I pray for you brother, please forgive me for all the times I called you scum!”

That’s Levi’s voice, but where the hell is he?! It’s maddening, running in one direction I believe his voice is coming from. Only I start hearing, Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie too. Surrounding me in this abyss of darkness.

“You and Lilith take good care of each other on the other side, will see you both someday”

What Beel says stops me in my tracks… What does he mean, other side? Holy shit, I’m fucken dead!?!

Another voice joins in… His voice…

Yes, my son, you are…

To Be Continued

Thanx for reading

29 notes · View notes

ineffably-good · 4 years

Text

Too Close For Comfort

Just a little piece of fluff and nonsense inspired by this tumblr post the other day...

Enjoy!

Read this on AO3

It had been a perfectly ordinary Tuesday morning, Crowley thought. He’d slept in quite late, misted and shouted at the plants, and made and downed a total of seven espressos with his nifty new kitchen toy, a shiny espresso maker that somehow never needed to be plugged in or washed. He was just downing the seventh one, standing up at the kitchen counter in the way of true Italians, when there was a sudden shimmer in the air behind him and everything went haywire.

“You got DISCORPORATED?” Crowley thundered at the shimmering, misty shape behind him that still somehow managed to retain the distinct appearance of wearing a bowtie. “How in the everliving fuck did you get yourself discorporated??”

The mist that was Aziraphale couldn’t blush, of course, but it nonetheless managed to communicate the sensation that it was blushing. “I stepped in front of a bus.”

“You stepped in front of a bus,” Crowley repeated, deadpan. “And why was that?”

“Well obviously because I was distracted!”

“You were distracted!” Crowley scrubbed a hand over his face and hair, messing it up wildly. “Oh, fine, you were DISTRACTED. There’s just the small problem with the fact that Heaven isn’t likely to give you another body, you realize. They’re not particularly cooperative about these things now that we’re on our own side!”

Mist-Aziraphale made a shushing gesture and Crowley, never having been shushed by a noncorporeal being before, found himself quieting down just at the novelty of it.

“I know, my dear, I know,” Aziraphale said. “But I have a plan. Just calm down and listen to me for a moment, please? You can yell at me later.”

“Oh I WILL,” Crowley threatened, looking grim. He plopped down on a kitchen stool and folded his arms over his chest. “Start talking.”

“I don’t know whether that plan is brilliant or stupid,” Crowley groused.

“In that case,” the mist said primly, “let’s go with brilliant. It will work, Crowley, I know it will.”

Crowley frowned and considered making himself an eighth espresso just to gain some thinking time, but he discarded the notion. His nerves were on edge enough.

“So you want to merge with me,” he said. “Angel and demonic in one corporeal shell. How do you know we won’t both explode? We couldn’t do it the last time you were floating around like this.”

“Well yes,” said the mist, “but we weren’t together back then. I think it’s safe to say that we have both gotten our corporeal selves much more used to each other’s essences now. I don’t think my presence will harm you at all. And if it seems to, I will back out quick as a snap. No harm done.”

“It’s not like you have much of another option, I suppose,” Crowley said, resigned to his fate. “All right, let’s give it a try.”

He braced himself on the kitchen counter and waited. And waited. And waited.

“Anytime now, angel,” he snipped, looking up. “What’s the hold up?”

“Oh,” dithered the misty shape. “I just feel… like I’m imposing on you. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, hard. “Just get on with it.”

Mist-Aziraphale took a deep breath, managed to somehow look apologetic, and flowed into him.

No one combusted.

It was, Crowley thought, a positive sign.

It was an unusual thing to be inhabiting a body with one’s boyfriend, thought Aziraphale. He had thought that he knew every inch of Crowley’s body rather intimately at this point, after over a year of dating and even once swapping bodies completely, but he found it was rather a different thing to be locked inside someone’s body while they were still in it. He found himself feeling unexpectedly shy, and rather unsure of the etiquette of the whole thing.

For example, when one wanted to take a turn using the vocal cords, did one just – do so? Or did one clear their throat politely first?

He decided to try the throat clearing trick. “Ahem,” he said politely. Crowley instinctively fought the sensation at first, then relaxed when he realized it was Aziraphale trying to speak. “I wonder, might we make a cup of tea? It’s rather… jittery in here.”

“Sure, angel, whatever you want.” Crowley headed for the kitchen and began filling a kettle.

“Ahem,” the other voice inside him said again. “Would you mind terribly if – that is to say – oh dear, this is complicated to manuever…”

Crowley turned off the water and put the kettle down. “You want to make the tea, don’t you.”

“Well, I do make it better than you do,” Aziraphale said politely. “Could I perhaps drive the body for just a moment?”

Crowley sighed and did his best to relax. “I suppose?”

Aziraphale manuevered around and happily took over the demon’s brainstem to control his physical movements; there were an uncomfortable few moments not unlike when you are changing gears in a strange car for the first time, but then everything proceeded smoothly as Crowley sat back inside his own head and watched Aziraphale put together the tea in the same fussy way he always did.

When the water had boiled and the bone china cup had been appropriately warmed before being filled with just the right amount of tea with just the appropriate dash of sugar and a saucer had been found and both had been carried to the living room and the angel-driving-the-demon had finally been seated and taken his first indulgent sip and let out a contented sigh, Crowley finally nudged at him to relinquish control of the steering wheel, so to speak, which the angel did immediately.

“Great,” Crowley said, back in control of the vocal cords. “Let’s move this into the office – I need to get on the computer.” Without waiting for Aziraphale to agree, he picked up the cup and saucer and sauntered them both into the other room, where he sprawled down in the chair and opened his laptop.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale complained, “I wanted to actually drink the tea.”

Crowley sighed and picked up the cup in a rather big hurry and took a huge gulp.

“That’s hardly the way to enjoy it, my dear,” Aziraphale said.

“Is that a pout?” Crowley said. “I absolutely refuse to let you make me pout, angel.”

He felt the angel sigh and release his control over the mouth muscles. “Very well,” he said primly. “Just give me a drink every now and then while you’re using the arms, ok?”

“They’re not ‘the’ arms,” Crowley reminded him, “they’re ‘my’ arms. And you are a guest in there.”

“I’m well aware, dearest,” Aziraphale said, sounding a little hurt.

Crowley stuffed down a vague sensation of guilt, which he was oddly aware that Aziraphale was well aware of, since they were sharing a brain, and got to work pulling up his infernal email account.

“Let’s get moving on this,” he muttered. “Time to contact the powers that be.”

“I can hear you thinking,” Crowley said as he worked on writing his most threatening email to Michael, the archangel who had already demonstrated a slight moral ambiguity and willingness to play by slightly more shaded rules than the others.

“It’s just that you’re being so rude,” Aziraphale said. “Also you misspelled ‘wanker’ in line seven.”

“I’m being rude on purpose,” Crowley said, “it’s a threatening email.”

“Nonetheless, manners are important,” Aziraphale prodded.

“So, you’d like me to write a polite threatening letter.”

“It can certainly be done,” Aziraphale said. “If you’ll just give me control of the arms for a moment, I can make a few edits for you –”

Crowley shut the laptop lid. “Forget it. I’ll call her instead.”

“Oh well now, that’s a very good idea.”

“Michael!” Crowley said jovially. “How’s tricks?”

“Demon Crowley,” Michael said coolly. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

“Need to talk with you,” Crowley said. “You see, Aziraphale’s been discorporated, and you’re going to help us out with getting him another body.”

“And why on earth would I do that?” Michael asked. “I can’t think of anything that would possibly entice me to get that traitor another body.”

“Well you see,” Crowley said, “Aziraphale has set up shop inside my corporation for the moment.”

Crowley could almost hear Michael wrinkling her nose in distaste. “That sounds unpleasant, but is hardly my concern –”

“No,” Crowley cut in. “It’s quite largely your concern. Because I now have all of the powers of Hell at my disposal, plus all of Aziraphale’s grace. Imagine what I could do with that combination?”

Michael thought for a moment. “That’s preposterous. Such a thing isn’t even possible. Your base matter is incompatible.”

Crowley gave in to the incessant nudging and allowed Aziraphale to take over the vocal cords. “Was incompatible,” Aziraphale said. On screen, Michael blinked as Aziraphale’s voice somehow began emerging from Crowley’s mouth. “We have mingled our essences enough times prior to this, however, that this is no longer the case.”

“I really don’t need to be privy to that type of information,” Michael sighed.

“And you know,” Aziraphale continued, “I can’t really do anything to stop Crowley while he’s –” he stopped and grasped for the right word – “hosting me. I can take control for short periods of time but only if he allows it. And he’s quite right that he has access to all of my powers. And all of my knowledge of heavenly infrastructure. Battle plans and whatnot.”

Michael’s eyes glittered. “You wouldn’t dare let him have full access to your memory banks.”

Crowley nudged Aziraphale and took back control. “He certainly would,” he said, “and even if he didn’t want to, he couldn’t stop me.” He waited while Aziraphale quietly fed him a few alarming bits of information. “Taking a look around right now,” he said airily. “You have exactly 124 battle regiments at present, armed with – what is that Aziraphale? Oh, stop fighting me, you idiot. I’m going to see it anyways – armed with a combination of light and heavy –”

“All right, all right,” Michael shouted, leaning forward anxiously. “What is it you want me to do?”

“You’re going to steal us a corporation,” Crowley said. “The same corporation he’s had, I know you have extras. And you’re going to deliver it to the bookshop.”

“That will take some time,” Michael muttered.

“How long?”

“Forty-eight hours.”

“Fine.” Crowley gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Nice doing business with you, Michael.”

“Oh, can I drive?” Aziraphale asked as they settled into the driver’s seat of the Bentley.

“Can you –” Crowley sputtered. “Absolutely not! And if you so much as touch a single neuron while I’m driving us over to the bookshop I will wait until you’ve got a body again and then kick your ass. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” sniffed Aziraphale.

Crowley swung into the bookstore and headed directly for the liquor cabinet.

“I didn’t mean to,” Aziraphale said. “It was just – you almost hit that old woman and her cart!”

“Not my fault she’s out there taking terrible risks, is it?” Crowley said, uncorking a bottle of gin and taking a long swallow.

Aziraphale spluttered. “Oh, must you, my dear? You know I dislike the taste of gin.”

“My tastebuds, my rules,” Crowley said.

On the desk to their left, Frederick awoke from that deep stillness that meant sleep and examined his pointy friend.

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I’VE BEEN HUNGRY FOR DAYS!

It had been six hours at most. Crowley huffed and went to the freezer for a mousicle. He took one out, popped it in the microwave to thaw, and turned his focus back inward.

“Anyway,” he said. “Don’t change the subject. You took control of the wheel and nearly wrecked us.”

“What was I supposed to do, close my eyes? That would have wrecked us too, since they’re your eyelids.”

“I don’t know,” Crowley sputtered. “just mentally read a book or something.”

“I will try that next time,” Aziraphale said consolingly.

The microwave dinged and Crowley made a disgusted face. “You feed him, angel,” he said.

Aziraphale, feeling agreeable, quickly popped the mouse into Freddy’s cage. “There you are, dear friend,” he said. “So sorry about the wait.”

Frederick reared up his head and examined Crowley closely.

WHY DO YOU SOUND LIKE THE FLUFFY ONE? he shouted.

Crowley took back control. “It’s a long story,” he said. “Suffice it to say that Aziraphale is in here with me for the moment.”

SOUNDS CROWDED, Frederick said doubtfully. DON’T GET ANY BIG IDEAS ABOUT PUTTING ME IN THERE TOO. YOU MIGHT HAVE EATEN YOUR FRIEND, BUT THAT’S ALL YOU GET.

“I didn’t eat him!” Crowley insisted.

LOOKS THAT WAY FROM HERE, SNAKEBIRD.

Crowley sighed and headed for the bottle of gin again.

It was going to be, they both thought in near unison, a long two days.

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pencilwritessometimes · 4 years

Text

A Dragon’s Eccentricates (Part two)

Wattpad link

Part One

TW: Curse word

The next day

Lillian woke up to the sound of birds chirping. She yawned, not fully awake, then rolled over in her bed. She stayed in that position for about five minutes before realizing that her father was leaving on another business trip, and would expect her to be at the door to say goodbye. In gaudy clothes that he thought were “normal”. If this was normal, she didn’t like it that much.

So she got out of bed, and put on a fancy dress, a bit of makeup, then styled her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror. Tall, and a bit lanky. Fair skin, bright green eyes, and long black hair that was half-up, half-down. Instead of her usual lilac dress with a bit of black embroidery, she was wearing something pink and frilly, much like Lottie’s princess dress from The Princess and The Frog. But underneath the mess of frills, were a worn out pair of leather Victorian-Style boots her mother had slipped her once. (At least she thought it was her mother, they were sitting unmarked at the foot of her bed one day.) No one- not even her father- could make her take off her boots.

She looked at the clock- 7:25. Five minutes to get downstairs. It might sound like a lot, but as she never got used to walking in really fancy dresses, it might be a close call.

As she walked downstairs, she thought of her father. She had mixed feelings for him. On one hand, she loved him with all her heart. He cared about her. He always made sure to be home on her birthday, even if he had to tell his work he was “sick”. But on the other hand, she didn’t much like his ideals. She remembered a day when she was five or six. She had told him about how she wanted to share stories with the world! But he said that it was a man’s job. That men were the ones to share stories. A women’s job was to get married, then have and raise kids. That was all.

And then came the part that she would never-could never-forget.

“But Father, what if a woman doesn’t want to get married, or have kids? Or what if she wants to do more?”

He gave her a look that she could only describe as terrifying. She almost cowered. “Women want to get married. Women want to have and raise kids. Do. You. Un. Der. Stand.” He snarled, each syllable of every word pressing down on her like a hammer to a nail.

“Yes Father.” she said meekly.

She didn’t mention those things again.

By time Lillian had finished reminiscing, she was downstairs. “Hello Father!” Her father turned around, as he was just heading out the door. He was tall and plump, with salt-and-pepper hair and mustache. He was wearing his nicest suit, the one he always wore when leaving for a business trip. “Oh, hello Lillian! I’m sorry, but I must be leaving now. Goodbye!” He closed the door. “...Goodbye.” she said sadly. Unfortunately, this was not the first abrupt goodbye, nor would it be the last.

But now that her father was gone, she could finally start writing stories. She started towards the library, then thought that she should probably get out of her dress into one more favorable.

After she had changed, she raced towards the library. She removed A Lesson in Practicality from a shelf, to reveal the quill-and-ink set she had gotten from A Dragon’s Eccentricities. She sat down at the desk, a piece of parchment paper already set down. And she started to write.

After about ten pages, she set the quill back into the ink bottle. She looked over it, to make sure she hadn’t made any spelling or grammar mistakes, when she noticed something odd. Random letters were written in red ink. She was quite puzzled, as she had been writing in black ink, and hadn’t switched ink colors. She looked at what the letters spelled, if anything.

“E”

“C”

“E”

“N”

“T”

“R”

“I”

“C”

“I”

“T”

“I”

“E”

“S”

“Eccentricites” A bright flash of while light emerged from the ink bottle. Out of the feather came an Albino dragon, starting as large as the quill, but growing steadily, until it was about three feet tall, and seven feet long. Lillian blinked, her mouth open in awe. “Holy sh*t.”

The dragon gave her a mom-type look. “Oh, sorry. But I mean, a dragon just emerged out of my quill. I think that’s a valid reason to say sh- The s-word.” The dragon rolled it’s eyes. “I’m Lillian. What’s your name?” The dragon lifted it’s head, to reveal a red ribbon with a medal. Upon closer inspection, Lillian realized it had words on it.

Annabelinda

Female Dragon, Quill-and-Ink

A Dragon’s Eccentricites

“So, your name is Annabelinda? Can I call you Anna? It’s much shorter.” Annabelinda snorted, as if to say, “Sure, why the heck not.” Lillian stood in front of her, not really sure what to do now. “What happens now? Usually, there’s a magical adventure after someone finds a dragon in the quill-and-ink bottle, right?” Annabelinda shrugged. “Well, if it’s not mandatory, I’d like to proofread my story.”

So Lillian sat down, and as she started to re-read her story, Annabelinda curled up around her chair. As she read, she traced her finger along the words, and mumbled under her breath. But suddenly, about five minutes into proofreading, Annabelinda let out a small burst of white flames.

“What the world Anna!” cried Lillian. “You could have burned something, and no one can know that you’re here.” But Annabelinda ignored her, and simply put a claw on her story. Lillian re-read the sentence. “Oh.” Annabelinda had simply been pointing out a grammar mistake. The girl fixed it. “Thanks Anna.”

So, for the rest of the pages, Annabelinda assisted with her proofreading- as it turned out, she was quite the editor. After they had gone over the story about five or six times, she stopped. Without thinking, she put the quill back into the ink bottle. The second Lillian had done that, she realized that she might have just sent Annabelinda back into the feather! She quickly went to pull it out, but not before she heard something that sounded like a laugh-Annabelinda!

“Anna! You scared me!” The dragon showed no sign of remorse. “Well, what do we do now?” Annabelinda smirked, and Lillian noticed a glint in her eyes. “Wha- Oh no. No, we are not doing this.” Annabelinda lowered down, and spread her wings, almost as if to say, “Oh yes we are!” Lillian looked at her. “Do I have a choice?” The dragon shook her head. Lillian sighed, put the quill in her dress pocket, then got on her back.

Annabelinda backed up a bit. She then took a running start, and forced herself through the wall, making a hole in the tower that was the library. Lillian looked back, and stared at what Annabelinda had done. “You- how- what-,” Annabelinda shook her head, suggesting that Lillian should just enjoy the view.

Lillian looked down, and gasped. The bird’s eye-dragon’s eye?- view of the town was remarkable. She could see the sweet shoppe, the grocer’s, and even the lot where A Dragon’s Eccentricites had been only 24 hours ago.

They kept flying- over lakes and rivers, hills and mountains, flatlands and plateaus. They flew for hours, until Annabelinda landed them in front of a small house. Lillian got off, and looked around. She knew this neighborhood! It was only about a fifteen minute walk from her house. Annabelinda pushed her forwards. She knocked on the door.

A middle aged woman with black hair greeted her. “Oh, hell- Lilian!” Lillian stared in shock at her. “Mother?” she said. Her mother had disappeared years before, so it was a surprise to find her right here, in front of her!

The woman ran towards her, and wrapped her up in a hug. Lillian started crying of happiness. “I can’t believe I found you!” They kept hugging, Lillian not wanting to leave her mother’s embrace. But she needed to ask her mother the question that had been bothering her for years “Why did you leave?” Her mother released her from the hug briefly. “You know your father, and his ideas about women.” “But he loved you!” Lillian said. “No sweetheart,” her mother told her, “He loved the me that fit his ideals. That wasn’t the real me. I just couldn’t stay.”

“How’d you find me anyways?” “My-” Lillian stopped herself. It might not be the best idea to tell her mom that a dragon brought her there. “I just stumbled upon the neighborhood.” Her mother nodded. “Alright. I’m making dinner, do you want to come in?” “Sure! I’ll be in in a minute.” “Ok!” her mother said, then closed the door.

Lillian walked around the house. There lay Annabelinda, in the small alley between the homes. She went over and hugged her. “Thank you Anna.” she said. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?” Suddenly, a voice filled her head. It was rich as chocolate, and sweet as honey. “Be my friend.” Lillian went up to her ear, and whispered into it.

“Already done.”

~~~

30 years later

1924, United States

Lillian was walking back to her home on Stars Ave.- her father had left it years ago- when all of a sudden, she stopped. Right there, in front of her, was A Dragon’s Eccentricites.

1600 words exactly! (not counting this note, or part one)

Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it, and that this ending worked well.

If I misspelled anything, or made any grammar mistakes let me know in the comments, along with your general feedback!

If you enjoyed this story, please vote!

Have a great day/night!

(also, I know I spelling “Eccentricities” wrong, forgive me, this is old writing and if I edit it somehow it will end up a very different story...)

#pencil's writing #dragons #19th century #fiction #short stories #my writing

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tlbodine · 5 years

Text

How to Love Revision

A lot of you lovely folks are doing Nanowrimo right now.

Which means that, in a few weeks, you will have a steaming pile of pages. A rough draft. A word-baby, if you will. And you might, at some point, want to turn that messy jumble into a real book, perhaps something to send to a publisher or publish yourself or just share with people.

I see a lot of writing advice about finishing first drafts -- and a whole lot of it is in the vein of “Just write it! Fix it in post! Finished is better than perfect!” which is great advice for pushing through, but does tend to leave future-you -- the editor you-- with problems.

Lucky for you, I happen to love editing (really! it’s my favorite part!) so I am here to give you some advice on how to turn those pages into a proper story without ripping all of your hair out or screaming into the void (but if you need to scream, it’s OK, I won’t judge you.)

First Off: Credit Where It’s Due

My current revision process draws heavily from Holly Lisle’s One-Pass Revision technique: https://hollylisle.com/one-pass-manuscript-revision-from-first-draft-to-last-in-one-cycle/

Her writing guides are golden, and I heartily recommend reading them all, starting with that one up there.

I don’t do one-pass revisions, but her ethos really helped me. Before I found her advice, I would get caught in the endless revise/rewrite cycle. I was going through 9+ drafts of every story and it kept morphing into something new and sprouting new problems, hydra-style, every time I tried to redo it. So nothing was ever finished, nothing was ever satisfying, and I hated it.

So I found a better way! And it freed me! I’ve written six books since then, four of them published (one Wattpad-exclusive) and I learned to look forward to the second draft.

So how does this magic work? Let me show you!

Step One: Put the Damn Thing Away

Editing requires intellectual and emotional distance. So finish your story, and set it aside for a while. Stop thinking about it. Actively put it out of your mind. Work on something else for a while. Read a book. Catch up on all the TV you missed. Whatever. The point is -- you don’t want to come back to revise your story until you can look at it with fresh eyes.

How long this will take depends on you, of course. It’s a very personal thing. It could be weeks. It could be months. For me, a good guideline is to wait until I can no longer quote whole passages from memory.

Now then. Let’s do some triage.

Before you can start editing, you need to know your goals. If you’re a planner, this might be easy because you have an outline you can compare against. If you’re a discovery writer like me, well, this is the time to figure out what exactly it is that you discovered. Grab a notebook (or a notepad file, if you’re a digital native) and follow this process:

Write a one-sentence elevator pitch that roughly encapsulates the concept of the story. It doesn’t have to be pretty -- you’re not showing this to anyone but yourself -- but it does have to be honest. My one-sentence pitch for River of Souls was “Self-aware zombies struggle for equal rights, but the medication they rely on to retain their humanity doesn’t work as advertised.” My pitch for The Hound was “Lesbian thrift shop owners invite the devil into their home after buying a cursed taxidermied dog.”

Write down your theme(s). In the draft, themes might take the form of questions. In this draft, you’ll want some answers. What do you want the reader to feel when they’re done? What is the message you’re trying to tell? When I wrote Nezumi’s Children, I knew it was a story about religion -- “What should we put our faith into?” In the end, I decided the answer was, “We should put our faith in each other.” That dictated the ending. (I also wanted to be careful not to inadvertently support abandoning your pets -- so I couldn’t let the rats be happily feral at the end. A happy ending for them meant being owned and cared for).

Write a 250-word synopsis of the story. Again, it doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to introduce the characters, the world, and the general shape of the story arc -- the inciting incident, the escalating stakes, and how the character changed at the end.

You may find that you struggle with this part, and that is totally find (and honestly to be expected). You may discover, for example, that your character doesn’t actually change, or that there isn’t a core conflict. That’s okay! That’s what you’re here to fix! I have absolutely, definitely written a book and then discovered 80,000 words later that it didn’t have a plot. It’s OK though, because you’ll fix that problem in the next step.

If you do indeed have a plot and escalating stakes and characters who go through developmental arcs, you’re ahead of the game. Now you’ve got the skeleton of an elevator pitch and the makings of a query letter (or a jacket blurb).

Next: Map Out Everything

When I was in elementary school, I had to start writing my first essays. I was supposed to make an outline, then write the paper to follow the outline. I wasn’t very good at doing it that way, so instead I would write the paper, then hastily draw up the outline to match what I said. Oops. Nothing has changed, honestly.

With your trusty notebook (or blank text document), compile the following:

Write out a list of scenes. Just a couple words describing the events of what happens. Now - are all of those scenes necessary? Are any redundant? Do you need to add foreshadowing or establish something earlier in the story to make sense of it? Are the scenes in the wrong order? Does every scene do some work to advance the plot, deepen the character, flesh out the world? Does the ending resonate with the theme? Re-write the scene list in the correct order, with scenes added or removed as necessary to tell the proper story. Now your scene list is a handy dandy roadmap/outline for your revision!

List out all of the characters in the story. Write down their role in the story. Does every major character have a goal? Do motivations make sense? Does each one change in some way during the story? Are all of your walk-on roles necessary? Are there characters who don’t really do much, and could you combine them?

Fixing plot holes on your scene list is a lot easier than fixing them in the manuscript itself. Keep tweaking your scenes until the story feels like it works. Make sure there’s a logical flow between events -- cause and effect, escalating stakes. Consult structure guides like the Hero’s Journey or the Three-Act Structure if you need some help with your plot.

Here’s a part that’s really important so it’s going in all caps: THE SCENE LIST IS FINAL. Make all the adjustments you need to the plot while you do the scene list, but do not -- DO NOT -- deviate from the story once you move on to the next step. You don’t stop modifying your scene list until you’re happy with the story, and once you’re happy, THAT is the story you’re writing. Get new ideas for things that can happen? Great, save ‘em for the next book.

Now Roll Your Sleeves Up And Get Dirty

Some people like to print their manuscript off and do edits in pen, but I don’t have reliable printer access most of the time and hate wasting paper. So instead, I pull up the rough draft and adjust it so it takes up one half of my monitor. Then I pull up a fresh, empty file and put that on the other half of the screen.

Now, using my scene list as a guide, I pull up the rough draft and rewrite it, scene by scene. Yes, that means re-typing every word. You’ll find that when you do this, you’ll fix a lot of language mistakes without even realizing it. I’m an under-writer, so my drafts usually double in length during this process because I spend more time lingering on sensory details, adding scenes, teasing out character dynamics, etc. etc. etc. Just let yourself go, get immersed into the scene. If you forget what you were doing, just refer back to your outline and original draft to get back on track.

I find this process works best if you can do it quickly. Try not to let the story get cold. Ideally, work on this every single day, or even set aside a long weekend to just hammer it all out.

Finally: Make a Second Pass

Now that you’ve got a second draft under your belt, it’s time to celebrate! Set the book aside. If you have beta readers or an editor, now is the time to send this to them. Hang out for a bit. Figure out who you’re querying, if you’re doing that. Find a kick-ass cover, if you’re self-publishing. Build yourself a Lego mansion. Whatever. Just sit on your draft for a little bit.

Now that a couple weeks have passed, it’s time to make a final pass. Gather all of the feedback you’ve gotten from beta readers and editors and decide what advice you should take and what you can ignore. Here’s a guideline: If someone says something and you think, “oh, yeah! that’s exactly it!” then you take the suggestion. If they say something and you think “uh, well, no, that’s not really the story I was trying to write....” or something similar, you can ignore the feedback. Good feedback will always feel true in the “duh, why didn’t I think of that” way.

Open up your new draft and, starting at page one, just read the damn thing. Make adjustments to the writing as necessary:

Correct any misspellings and typos you come across.

Eliminate weak words and phrases and replace them with stronger ones.

Add some variation to sentence structure if you notice that it’s become repetitive.

Eliminate redundancy. Fix your metaphors. Fix your symbolism. Keep your poetic language on-theme. In The Hound, I replaced a ton of random metaphors with dog imagery. It’s subtle, but it lends thematic cohesion.

Some people use things like Grammarly or Hemmingway App to help with this. I’ve never used them, so I can’t speak to their effectiveness. But if you find that they help, awesome! Use them!

Here’s a really important point: This step can ONLY come AFTER the rewriting stage. There is no point at all in tweaking sentences and fixing up the language in a story that has no plot. Fix your structural issues FIRST, and be sure they are AIR TIGHT, before you start dicking around with the words. Ok? Ok. (Someone go back in time 15 years and tell this to young me please)

And now...you are done!

Spend some time tweaking your elevator pitch and query letter at this point, if necessary. But no matter what, you do not go back into this document and change ANYTHING unless an editor tells you to. The book is DONE. Maybe give it a final proofread before you self-publish it (but honestly, you’re better off hiring someone to do it at that point, you’re going to be too zorched to notice the typos you missed) but otherwise don’t touch it. Don’t think about it. Write the next book.

And that’s it! That’s my mostly painless revision process!

Obviously every person is different, your mileage may vary, etc. But I hope this serves as a helpful jumping off point. I am more than happy to answer any questions or provide clarification on things -- just drop me a line :)

#writing advice #writing tips #editing #writeblr #long post

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