#I may post a longer bit for wip Wednesday
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katmiscellanious · 2 years ago
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Six Sentence Sunday!
I’m back for six sentence Sunday with a continuation of last Wednesday’s post (which I accidentally posted on Tuesday, whoops!)
For those who didn’t see last weeks post, this is an Enchanted Au for Snowbaz.
 Simon Snow is a hero of the land of magic. Known for slaying dragons, Simon is finally ready to find true love. He thinks he’s found that in Princess Agatha. A beautiful maiden who seemingly fits all the criteria of Penny’s spell designed to find his true love. But when she disappears down a well into another realm hours before their wedding, Simon goes after her, intent on rescuing her and securing his happily ever after.
Baz is a lawyer new to New York, having moved recently from London to escape his family and the loveless marriage forced upon him. He just wants to complete his divorce and win the custody battle to keep his daughter, Tasha. He lost hope for finding love years ago. But his world gets rocked when he meets a very handsome, and very insane man with dragon wings threatening him with a sword.
The story currently in it’s rough draft stage, but is coming along nicely.
“True love! I’m tired of the dragons and the beast slaying. I want my soulmate, the other half of my soul, my heart! I want that special, once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. The beautiful Maiden who is destined to complete my heart’s duet. You can’t get love like that from any old girl from the village!” I wrap an arm around her shoulder, “and when we meet, I’ll just know! You know! And we’ll come together to share true love’s kiss.”
Thank you for reading and I hope you stick around for more updates.
Special thanks to @martsonmars for the tag.
And for the rest a ya (I forgot to double check my tags, so apologies who didn’t get properly tagged. I made sure to check everyone this week.)
@martsonmars @bucketfishy @captain-aralias @carryonvisinata @aristocratic-otter @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @raenestee @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @johnwgrey @cutestkilla @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @confused-bi-queer @larkral
Under the cut I’ll have a little bonus content for anyone interested
A preview of Baz’s daughter, Tasha. She’s a quirky child, she loves birds, hates ketchup, and she loves her dad.
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Next we have a meme. I thought this was a fun and non-spoilery out of context joke about my own plot points.
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kredenakrejn · 6 months ago
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Last update: 15d.10m.24y.
Welcome on my blog :D
Plz note, if I am not answering your ask for a longer while, I plan to draw something to that, and just don't have time to do it now
Trick or treat asks are welcome :)!
Pfp was made by my lovely friend Me! And the banner was made by also Me!
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✦ Side Blogs @Kre-UTMV-Art @Bad-Sanses-SMP @DailyGenoArt
✦ Other Socials Twitch YouTube (I have literaly the same name everywhere where I am, to make it easier for you guys)
✦ Personal Tags #Ask #Krejn's Talk #Not my Art #Krejn's Art #MySona #MyOC #MaFren #Krejn's Post
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✦ About me
My name here is Kredena or Krejn I love nicknames too :3
My Sona's ref (I'll add it later)
Multifandom artist Mostly UTMV stuff for now But I also like: RotTMNT, LMK, HelluvaVerse, MLP, Tadc and many more!
B-Day on 13 of April
She / They
I am Aroace (Aromatic / Asexual) Maybe a bit Pan and Demiromatic too..? 'Am not sure
I will die / bite for my friends (they are like a family to me.)
Sometimes I use "we" but I am just one person here It's just sometimes more comfortable to write like that
I sometimes have problems with knowing what emotions I feel at the moment I sometimes over-react just to be silly Or sometimes I just feel empty
I work at McDonalds (save me) on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and every other Sunday
No problem with saying stuff about myself, just someone needs to ask
✦ Boundaries
If I say "I love you" I don't say it in a romantic way I only say it in a platonic way. So don't you dare think 'am flirting with you.
DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY ART ANYWHERE You may reblog it (some people think it's the same as reposting, but it's not.) You may use it if it was a gift for you You may use it if you asked me before that (but you NEED to credit me.)
If something is not clear about me Plz just ask I get sad when people just assume stuff about me
Plz do not use any images, gifs, or videos with smol children, when you talk with me They just disgust me, I can't help it
If you gonna hurt even one of my friends, you gonna have a bad time buddy.
Plz, don't add ship tags when there is none of 'em on the original post
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If you like what I create, plz consider supporting me on Ko-Fi! I will be making doddles for every donation :3
Before donating, plz note:
I have work, so I will not be able to draw the same secound you send me a donation, but I will draw something for you! (Just tell me what, in my DM's on Ko-Fi)
I will not draw N5FW, T-C3ST or PRO5HIP stuff, so plz do not ask me for it
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Yes I am kredenadark Some may be curious why I will no longer be active there Well, my old discord account got hacked, tho I was able to buy my data back (*cries*) I did not feel safe on my old accounts, so I decided to make new ones where I could, or change every emile and password I had I tried to recover form my old blog whatever I could, for some time, I will be just rebloging my old stuff, so I will not lose it too Becouse of the fact that before re-instalating my windows, I saved my files on the pendrive the wrong way, all the stuff from my laptop is gone, so all my WIP's are lost, sorry, I was not able to show them to you
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sentientcave · 2 months ago
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Hey friends! I'm Charlie (He/They). Writer, occasional artist, always just some guy. Doing my best, and hoping to get better.
Blank and Ageless Blogs will be blocked.
Requests tentatively open? I should be working on my longer fics but I've been real burned out lately, hoping to spark things back up. I'm lowkey vanilla so don't ask for anything too wild or I'll faint like a scandalized Victorian.
Twitter - AO3 - Ko-fi
~Master List~
Two Graves - Phillip Graves is haunted by the memory of his older brother
Fuck-ass Mohawk - Johnny likes it when you're mean to him (And Ghost does too)
Pompeii//Good Grief - Dealing with loss during a mission gone wrong- Or maybe gone right.
Please, Mommy - A little gender fuckery with everyone's favourite Captain. (FtM Reader, read contents for kink warnings)
And They Were Roommates
Fem!Soap x Fem Reader - You're looking for a roommate, and Jaime Mactavish figures she's the right woman for the job.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
Heavy Weighs the Crown
Fantasy AU - A princess in self-imposed exile is forced to come home to face the man who took her father's crown and the life she left behind. 141 x Reader.
Chapter Index
Retirement Party
Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You. (Dark fic! Read the content warnings)
Chapter Index
Honey It's Alright
Slasher AU with some of my OCs. Dark fic!! Read the warnings
Part 1
Sadie Blackmoore-Price in
Nobody Does it Better - Sadie and John reconnect for a night
You Only Live Twice (In Progress)
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
When Rory "Scout" Price moves in with her dad after a rough break-up, she's looking forward to reconnecting while she gets her feet back under her. But unfortunately, a post-divorce Kyle Garrick is moving in too, and he seems determined to be a pain in the ass. But then again, he is kind of hot.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
Please Say Yes
Starting fresh after a divorce, Chelsea really only has one thing on her mind: Starting a family. But going through the process of dating and marrying another man that could very well be lying about wanting kids, just like the last one, she's determined to make her family all by herself. She only really needs a man for one part of the process, and she has a particular man in mind, her neighbour, one John Price.
Part 1
Let's Riot!
When the Reader St arena gets bought out from under them by Morgan’s vengeful ex, Pippa Graves, The Reader St Riots suddenly find themselves without a practice space. Pippa may say she’ll play nice, but Morgan knows that she’ll either have to get back under Pippa’s manicured thumb or the whole team will be out on their ass in no time. Problem is, the only other practice space around that’s not booked up to the tits belongs to Jo Price, captain of the Femme41, and well… Morgan has a bit of ugly history with her too.
Still, Jo’s at least a little more reasonable than Pippa, and Morgan may hate to beg, but she’d hate to see the Riots disbanded more. And well, maybe there’s room for a little cooperation, especially when their teams get along so well.
Part 1
Sparrowverse
Fics in an extended original character universe. I'll get around to posting Sparrow one of these days.
Cherry Bomb - Nikolai meets one of his Aunt's old school friends and tries not to fall in love.
You Drive Me Wild - Nikolai and Helena meet again three years later
WIP WEDNESDAY BAYBEE
Snippets and previews of things in the works
Rugby - Rugby Again - More Rugby - The Righteous Hand - Impound - More Impound - Sparrow - TNT - Lucky Bunny - Daddy's Girl - Sparrow Again + Retirement Party
#Cave Writing for unlinked works and me complaining about writing
Image credit - Banner made in Canva
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tj-dragonblade · 8 months ago
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Slow Progress Saturday
Okay, so my WIP Wednesday post netted me 23 new sentences due on this 1889 rain kiss thing, so here those are. Bit over count, actually, but some of them are single-word sentences and some would be a single sentence in someone else's pov but I like to break things differently in Dream-voice but ANYWAY.
~ It is a thrilling, satisfying moment spent indulging this long-held fantasy before he is able to draw back. His grip has gentled, his hands curled softly in Hob's lapels now, and Hob is cupping him behind the elbows, holding him close in a way that does not encircle or entrap him. Careful. Considerate. Unnecessary, but appreciated.
Hob's eyes flutter open, dark and adoring, wonder in their depths. "Dream…my Stranger, my Friend…" He is gazing up into Dream's eyes from a breath away, blinking away the pouring rain that runs over his face, mats his lovely hair flat. "What is this?"
He looks less as though he is truly concerned with the answer and more as though he longs to be kissed again; conveniently, Dream wishes to kiss him again, and so he does.
'This' is an uncertain certainty, an inadvisable course that he has resisted out of necessity, propriety, for so much of their acquaintance; he does not care to resist any longer, should Hob be amenable.
The eager curl of Hob's tongue beckoning Dream into his mouth speaks volumes of his amenability.
Still, Dream thinks, even as he follows that invitation, he should ask, should speak of his own feelings and make clear his intentions in words, where there is no mistaking the why of what he has done. He should seek Hob's intent as well, confirm his interest, leave no doubt between them on either side.
But Hob is dreaming. Hob has already expressed concern over how much he may remember; better, perhaps, to save such conversation for the waking world, where they both can be certain of Hob's full awareness. Hob would appreciate this consideration, he is very sure.
If he feels marginally relieved, not to have to bring the words to bear right now, well.
The dream shifts about them, as dreams are wont to do, directed by Hob's subconscious. They no longer stand kissing in the middle of the street; now Dream is pressing Hob back against the wall of a narrow alleyway, still more or less 1889 London, still beneath the pouring rain. His arms are tight about Hob's waist and Hob's are wrapped behind his neck, one hand threading up into his hair as they kiss. It is an ardent touch, full of care, longing, devotion and Dream. Will deny himself no longer.
He moves, reaches to grasp the backs of Hob's thighs and lifts, still pinning him to the wall, still kissing him fiercely.
The sound Hob makes is delectable, a warm bouquet of surprise and approval over arousal and excitement; his hands shift to touch Dream's face, cradling it while Dream devours his mouth. Dream holds him up by the grip on his thighs, by the press of his own body into the spread of Hob's legs, where Hob's thoughts on the situation are very much in evidence.
And Dream wants.
"I would have you," he manages, the words brushed against Hob's parted lips, and Hob whimpers, plainly audible beneath the rushing of the rain.
"Please. Please do—"
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hircines-hunter · 2 months ago
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WIP almost Wednesday
still got the Ulfric brainrot. It’s getting worse if I’m buying merch…. Oh well! Maybe I need a new hobby! I’ll see. couldn’t decide on what to actually post. So, I’ll post this thing since I made an image for it and everything.
Gonna tag @thequeenofthewinter @umbracirrus @mavariel @madamefluffnstuff @vivifriend
Anyone else that wants to do you can tag me please!
Dyrvina paced in the main hall. She sighed heavily. She messed with the red beads on her wrist.
Several weeks had passed since Ulfric and his army left for Solitude. Dyrvina grew worried with every passing day and night. The people grew worried. She was frequented by the same people at court daily. All of them concerned with the state of the war. As if anyone had time to report to her.
Frits moped around with her. Lerke followed her lady’s every step, armor clanking with each footfall. Dyrvina sighed again. She knew he was alive. There would’ve been reports, otherwise.
She bit at her nail. She stopped, walked to the throne, and sat down. How did he sit on this for so many years?
Dyrvina looked up when the doors burst open. She stood up. A Stormcloak scout ran towards the throne. Lerke stepped between the scout and Dyrvina. Her hand rested on her sword.
“The war….” He took a deep breath, trying to catch his breath. “Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak has won. The Empire and Thalmor have retreated to Cyrodiil. He….” The scout doubled over and panted. “Apologies, my lady. A letter. From the Jarl. To you.”
Lerke took the letter from the scout and walked to Dyrvina, who stepped down the dais.
Dyrvina looks at the letter. She traced the Stormcloak seal before carefully opening the letter and reading the contents.
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Dyrvina found another folded piece of paper. She opened it. A list of casualties from Solitude, from both sides. Divines. Dyrvina felt her eyes water. “Jorleif.” She dabbed the tears in her eyes.
“Aye, my lady.” The steward appeared from the war room. Llaareni followed behind him. She gave Dyrvina a soft smile.
“This is from Ulfric for you. Please.”
The steward walked over and grabbed the paper. He glanced over it and nodded. “We will handle this.” He turned to Llaareni and nodded.
Dyrvina turned back to the scout. “Thank you for your speedy return with such important news. You may rest. The barracks are through that door.” She turned. “Please grab whatever food and drink you need. But please rest.”
“My lady. You should address the city.” Jorleif spoke up.
Dyrvina froze. She messed with the beads of her dress. “Town crier. Get a town crier. Ulfric is better at speeches.” She swallowed. She messed with the bracelet again. She took a deep breath.
“You can do it, Lady Dyrvina. Jarl Ulfric has entrusted you with his duties and the city. You have been doing an exceptional job. This is far too important to leave to a town crier.” Jorleif smiled.
Dyrvina nodded. “Okay…. Aye. I… I don’t have a fraction of Ulfric’s charisma.”
“The people still love you.” Lerke spoke this time. “We will be there.”
She nodded again. “Aye. I’ll try. Should I change? Is this dress okay to wear?” Dyrvina looked around for Maera.
“You always look great, Lady Dyrvina.” Lerke smiled. “It is Stormcloak blue. You wear a bear cloak. You look everything a Stormcloak Queen should look.”
“Llaareni and I will gather the city in the courtyard.” The steward and his assistant hurried out of the Palace.
“Can I even speak loud enough? I don’t have a voice or Thu’um like Ulfric?” Dyrvina wrung her hands. “By Talos. I wish he had just came into the city himself!” She cursed.
Lerke laughed. “Did you not want to take over Dawnstar at one point? And now here you are fretting over your duties.”
“I’ve had the perfect husband in that sense. I have found that I much prefer short term duties over long term. It has been a long month without him. And I have to wait longer. And I can now understand why I grate his nerves. By Talos. I cannot wait until he returns.” She sighed.
“Have you fallen in love with him?” Lerke laughed, knowing the answer.
“Not like that. He is family. And I care about him. I never realized how often I relied on his strength and support since we’ve been apart.” She turned when the doors opened and Jorleif and Llaareni returned. “Well…. I will let Windhelm know the news.”
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onthewaytosomewhere · 9 months ago
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Happy WIP Wednesday!!
So apparently some of y'all have been busy and well I'm gonna get this in now before I don't get a chance to because while it's still rough draft, this bit of 'baby just say yes' (that tswift fairytale) is really quite cute and deserves to be seen by more than just me b4 April
so thank you @adreamareads @stellarm @duchessdepolignaca03 @suseagull04 @sophie1973 @england-would-fall so much for the tags I am so excited to read what ya posted ❤️
Prince Alex is still ten years of age when it happens, just days before Prince Henry is to turn twelve, they are practicing their magic lessons together in the garden, learning how to wield their magic together. They are working on a lesson they learned from Prince Henry’s parents, Princess Catherine and Royal Earl Arthur, on strengthening each other’s magic. They have been working at it for quite some time to no avail, and young princes are growing frustrated when there is a sudden poof! of magic between them.  Prince Alex closes his eyes at the flash of light accompanying the burst of magic, and when he opens them, Henry is no longer sitting in front of him. The young prince lets out a screech that he denies whenever the story is retold as he feels something small jump in his lap. The young prince looks down, and the most adorable, almost-blonde kitten is staring up at him; the kitten's eyes look like Henry’s shade of blue in them. The prince is so excited to show Henry the kitten when he finds out where he is. When Arthur finds him, Alex is still sitting with the kitten curled up in his arms, petting and kissing its adorable face. The magic emanating from the area gives some indication of what happened, but he asks anyway, “Alex, where is Henry? I was under the impression the two of you were out here practicing.” Alex sets the kitten into his lap and looks up; the fear in his young eyes is evident to any who takes a moment to look. “Well, we were practicing, working on some of the tandom magic you and Catherine showed us, and - something happened. I don’t know what, but there was a poof!” Alex says with an exaggerated movement of his arms, continuing, “And I closed my eyes because of the very bright light, and then when I opened them, Henry wasn’t here, and this adorable kitten was instead. I may have gotten a little distracted when we were working, and now I don’t know where Henry is.” Alex stops speaking when the kitten starts to bat at his arms, which are still moving around. He picks the kitten back up into his arms, and it snuggles into his chest. Arthur barely has to use any of his magic to know that the kitten Alex is so attached to is his son, Henry. The young prince, Alex, is devastated when he is told that his friend, his best friend, other than his sister, June, is now a kitten. He is so smitten with the kitten that he only lets it out of his sight when he falls asleep. He deems it his job to care for Kitty Hen as he has taken to calling the kitten; after all, he blames himself for the magic mishap that caused the change. Alex spends his days at the palace in Windsor caring for his friend; he asks his favorite cook in the kitchen to help him make a cat-friendly cake for Henry when it’s obvious that he won’t be turning back before his birthday. He finds only the best tuna for his friend, which he finds funny because he’s never known his friend to eat tuna when in human form. Alex brings Kitty Hen with him everywhere and sometimes swears to those around them that the kitten is trying to communicate with him; the prince has yet to figure out how to understand the cat, though. The Prince has found that if the kitten must do his business inside, he will attempt to climb onto the toilet rather than use the litter box that has been provided. This leads to Alex finding the kitten fallen into the toilet the first day, and from then on, he has spent almost every waking moment he can outside with the kitten to give it somewhere it won’t fall into to do his business. If when Henry is in human form, Alex gets them into most of the scrapes they get into, then in kitten form, Henry is definitely making up for that - as Alex follows the kitten everywhere, and kittens have a much easier time getting around unseen. Every time Alex receives a scolding for one of their adventures, the kitten that is his friend climbs into his lap and purrs until he forgives him, only to do it all again.
Ok so some no-pressure tags going out to (if you've already posted - just saying 'hi' cuz well I didn't check today) @agame-writes @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @dragonflylady77 @firenati0n @firstprinces @forever-fixating @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @nocoastposts @piratefalls @priincebutt @sunnysideprince @taste-thewaste @typicalopposite and bcuz it's relevant to our convo @littlemisskittentoes
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tealeavesandtrash · 3 months ago
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✨WIP Wednesday✨
I've been working on this one fic on and off 18 months or so now and I think I may be getting to the point where I am almost ready to post it (eternal battle with myself about whether to wait until it's all drafted or start posting soon and risk abandoning it like every other multichapter fic I've tried to write) BUT the more little bits I post along the way, the longer my motivation lasts sjssksks
2nd August
Moony, It's been weeks since any of us heard from you and I'm getting really worried. I never thought I’d say this, but I really hope you’re mad at me. I keep trying to remember if I did something to upset you but I can’t think of anything. Just let me know what I did so I can figure out how to fix it.  Please tell me what's wrong and that you’re okay.  I miss you. Yours, Padfoot
Sirius makes sure the letter is safely secured in Dilly’s talons, gives her half a Weetabix for the journey. “You get the other half after you make sure Remus gets that,” he explains.
She twits at him in agreement, like she understands the importance of the task at hand. Sirius isn’t sure if the Potter’s owl is actually well trained enough to fully comprehend his instruction, or if she's just learnt to recognise that Sirius always gives her treats before and after sending her out on a delivery.
She spreads her wings wide in the late morning sun - a magnificent display as she bats them in the wind, building up power before taking to the sky.
There’s a bustling from inside the house, doors opening and closing, low chatter that Sirius can’t make out. He waits on the back doorstep, watching until Dilly is a distant dot in the sky before he finally steps back inside.
James is sitting at the kitchen table, confusion etched on his face as he glances cautiously between Sirius and his mum who stands in the middle of the room looking, well. Sirius would say her expression is frantic except Effie doesn’t get frantic. She is steadfast in logic and composure, ever the voice of reason. Calm and collected no matter what the crisis at hand might be. 
“Oh good, you’re here,” Effie says as Sirius joins them, although her expression says it’s anything but good news. Her face is flushed, brows drawn in concern. “I’ve just been talking to Remus’ mum.”
And Sirius feels his heart drop.
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kaylinalexanderbooks · 1 month ago
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@mk-writes-stuff you sent an ask but Tumblr has eaten this so many times but I WILL ANSWER IT
I'm just trying it in a normal post.
It's called the shop talk ask game (here)! Thanks so much for the ask!
🌓- Show us a snippet of a before and an after between drafts! What did you change and why?
This is a good one! Since TSP has been around for so long, I have five main drafts to pull from! One of the scenes that has always stayed is, of course, the discovery of the portal. I posted a WIP Wednesday a while back that went over the five different ways, but as a treat I'll post longer excerpts and go into detail about what changes.
This should be long, so it's under the cut!
Draft One (2013)
The beautiful blanket of May flowers stretched out all the way… to my house. <3 I sighed. Nothing was better than… “AAAHHH!!!” I whirled around. Aurora had disappeared! I moved the grass where she had been standing. A rock. A metal rock? I stood up, confused. I put my bag down, next to Aurora’s (which she probably dropped) and felt the rock with my hand. “AAAHHH!!!” I screamed. EVERYTHING WENT BLACK
In my defense, I was ten. No paragraphs, a random heart, no ending punctuation, random ellipses-- it's a mess! The action goes way too fast, the first sentence does nothing to convey the imagery I was going for, and Alexia and Aurora's personalities are not given a chance to shine at all in this. It's unclear what happened when Alexia touched the portal or why she passed out. Obviously, when rewriting this I decided to add a bit more detail and pondering.
Draft Two (2014)
I was so busy daydreaming that I wasn’t talking to Aurora like I usually do. I snapped out of my daydream just in time to hear a scream. I turned around as fast as I could to see what Aurora was so scared over. But all I saw was a backpack. I didn’t even see Aurora. [Chapter break] I stared in the place that I was pretty sure Aurora was standing. I stared at the backpack. I was pretty sure that it was hers. I looked at the name plate. Yup. Her handwriting. Aurora Austin Where was my friend?!?!?! I looked all around. Nothing. The only place I hadn’t looked was the ground. Why would she be in the ground? I have no idea. But it’s worth a try. I moved the grass. The only thing I saw was a rock. As I looked closer, the rock seemed to be metal. I crawled a little closer. It still looked metal. I reached out to touch it when…. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I was falling through nothingness. All I saw was a bunch of rainbows swirling around me. I kept falling and screaming. Then everything went black.
Technically, I succeeded in my original goal. The pacing is still fast, but slow enough for the reader to process that something has happened. Alexia gets the chance to look around and wonder where her friend was, but instead of authentically noticing the backpack or looking at the ground, it's like the book is forcing her to do those things so the plot can happen. The portal itself gets more description, now with the addition of rainbows swirling around Alexia, but it's unclear what happened when she actually touched the portal or why she passed out. We don't get a lot of her personality here, since most of her actions could've been done by anyone. In revisions, I knew I needed more character, descriptions, and dialogue in order to make the pacing better.
Draft Three (2015)
I had been so into daydreaming I hadn’t realized we weren’t anywhere near the meeting place. Instead, Aurora and I were in the middle of the field. I looked around, but I didn’t even see the school. “Where are we?” Aurora shrugged. “I was just following you.” She set her black-and-white backpack on the ground and started to go back where we came from. “I’ll try and find the school! I’ll come back if I do!” I watched her go for only a few feet. Then she disappeared! I ran to where the last place she was, but the only thing there was a rock. [Chapter] I stared at the spot where Aurora was standing. The rock was still there, and a few feet away was her backpack, but Aurora herself was nowhere to be found. I set down my backpack and violin and crept forward. I looked at the rock. It looked metal. I got out my metal detector just to check. Yup! Definitely metal. Then I thought of a crazy thought. What if the rock was a portal? I knew it was impossible, but it was the only explanation to why Aurora disappeared. If it was a portal, what was on the other end? Air? No air? Well, whatever was behind it, I knew I had to go. Aurora was in danger. Possibly. Actually, I don’t know. It might be Band Land over there with all the boys you can crush on. I slowly crawled away from the portal and shuddered at that thought. Band Land would be anyone who wasn’t in band’s nightmare. Band is just noise to me, so Band Land must be torture. I shook the thought away. That was a stupid thought. Maybe this was a dream. Well, usually in dreams you don’t think they are dreams, but I actually did have a dream inside a dream, and I knew I was dreaming then, but in the dream, the edges around my vision were a little foggy, and I could see perfectly fine here. Well, except for the fact I wear glasses. Without them, I can’t see worth crap. I crawled back to the rock. Last year, we learned metals rusted after rain. And it was super rainy this year. So, why was it shiny? This was frying my pour brain. Despite whatever was behind there, there was still a chance Aurora could be in trouble. Without thinking, I reached out my hand and touched the rock. I watched as the field dissolved around me. It soon seemed like all the color didn’t matter anymore, and soon, rainbows were all around me. I stood up and looked around. The field was gone. Rainbows were in its place. I looked at my feet and saw that the field hadn’t disappeared completely. I was standing on the only patch of grass above a long tunnel. A tunnel that was going down. “Oh, crap,” I said as the grass disappeared. I hovered in the air for a moment, then I started falling. Then the millions of color all came together in a blackness.
Now we finally have the addition of what I now call The Gateway before the girls find the portal. This was mainly added to help with pacing so Alexia and Aurora could react to weird things happening together (which means I had to play catch up with the world building aspect of it but yes that's why it's so convoluted... PACING!). Already, the addition of dialogue helps break up the narration and add more variety to the story. Alexia does get more character moments here, with her inner monologue and tendency to overthink (in this draft mainly), though the tangent about Band is quite weird. She did figure out the rock was a portal, so at least that's out of the way. The portal forming gets much more description than it has. However, despite her character moments, Alexia doesn't get a lot of emotions regarding the situation, and Aurora gets two lines of dialogue. Still in need of improvement! Next draft!
Draft Four (2017-2020)
Ash laughed, then stopped. “Um, Lexi…? Where are we?” I looked around. The tennis court wasn’t anywhere in sight. In fact, neither was the school. Ash and I were standing in the middle of a seemingly endless field. And as far as I knew, there were no fields anywhere near Falcon, except for the football field. I set down my backpack, binders, violin--all the crap. “I don’t have any clue.” Ash set her backpack beside my stuff, and the two of us surveyed our surroundings. “Where did—how did we get here?” Ash soon asked. I had no answer. All I saw was grass, and more grass...and more grass…. “Okay,” I said. “Maybe if we go back the way we came, we will return to the school.” “Right,” said Ash. The two of us retrieved our stuff and turned back the way we came. We walked a couple yards, but nothing. We dropped our stuff again, and sat down on the grass, our backs facing one another, though not touching. “I can’t believe this,” I said. “I’d say we were dreaming, but that’s a little cliché, and I’m never aware that I’m dreaming in my dreams, so either we’re experiencing a very strange reality, or we’re hallucinating.” I laughed weakly. “Verisimilitude. Remember that word? ‘The appearance of being true or real’. That took forever to memorize on that quiz, right?” I waited for Ash to answer, but she was silent. “Ash?” I asked, making sure she was okay. I turned around, about to say something based on her reaction, but she wasn’t there. “Ash?” I said, standing up. I looked around in all directions, but there was no sign of Ash. “Ash!?” I said louder. Still no response. “ASHLEY!” No answer. I fell on the soft, green grass and tried to hold back the tears, as I often did if I were stressed and felt lost, not a clue what to do. I had no idea what was happening, and frankly, wasn't even sure it was happening. I fell on my back to contemplate what happened when I hit something hard with my head. I cried out in pain, and shot up, rubbing the back of my neck. I turned to see what I hit, and jumped when I saw millions of colors shoot up from the ground and wrap around me. I looked around and watched the endless field disappear around me. I must’ve hit my head hard. I looked down at the ground and watched as the colors started to erase the grass around me. “Oh, sh—” The ground disappeared completely and I fell through a tunnel of millions of colors. I never knew there were so many in the world. I would’ve been in awe if it weren’t for the fact that I was falling to my death. I ended up spinning around somehow, which caused me to fall headfirst down the tunnel. At the end, I saw a bright white light. Was it Heaven? Was I dead? The light became bigger and brighter and whiter as I fell closer, and closer, and closer. Soon I landed in the light, and I felt it enclose around me, sucking me up in its brightness. I felt content, safe, and warm in the light. But then I felt a cold wind at my feet. I felt cold air-like ropes tie themselves around my ankles. I was suddenly yanked down. Then everything went black.
For the first time since Draft One, this scene doesn't have a chapter break, and I think it flows a lot better like this. The pacing is better, and we have much better characterization for Lexi. She has a constant inner monologue with her thoughts, opinions, and emotions about what's going on. There's even more dialogue now to help make the scene feel more natural. Now, where would I improve it? Well, the rope things for the portal is a weird addition. Ash still gets no true characterization. While Lexi emotionally reacts to things, I wouldn't mind more. The descriptions are bare bones, and while I can see what's happening to an extent, it's hard to feel like I'm there. Also, why did Lexi black out? Very unclear. So let's do this one more time.
This is all they're letting me post so to be continued....
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blackbloodteeth · 2 months ago
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Okay so last night I decided to use this week's ficwip's Word Game Wednesday post as a writing prompt ("Magic"), especially since I was casually prodded into writing a snippet by a friend. However, I was apparently possessed by my sleep debt demons, and not only did this reach 2.6k, I didn't even use the prompt word at any point. Nice.
As said, this is a little bit of a long snippet and apparently awkward dialogue takes me places, but here's somethin' for today while I see if I got the spoons to finish The WIP™️ after having actually gotten some sleep today despite accidentally staying up 23 hours previously.
Reject normality, return to italics.
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The feeling of sand continuously clops beneath each slow step as he quietly sighs again, looking down at the pitch-black sea stretching endlessly throughout the darkness surrounding him. If it weren't for his light keeping him company he wouldn't even be able to see his legs, and he's quite grateful for it as he holds onto it as the only thing he has out here, but… feels like the more he wanders, the dimmer it's been getting.
Another sigh drags on while he wonders how long he's been wandering, how much longer he has to go, and if his family even misses him right now. Do they miss him? I mean, they'd have to, right? Even if he's not… the smartest or the most talented… or…or……
He gives his head a good shake to toss those thoughts out when the darkness starts to creep across his steps, instead trying the best he can to think about their worried faces and his poor ol' nana… Well he misses them, even if they don't notice he's gone, right where he shouldn't've ran off to……
The ache in his chest weighs him back down to his light weakening up his arms, leeching the hope of finding his way along with it. If only he could say sorry. He's always been the cracked stone of the family, but… but…… maybe if he……….Huh? What's that?
His head suddenly perks up when he spots a different light in the distance, new and- and exciting, breaking him into a gallop just to catch up with it and finding a warmth he's never felt before begin to fill his chest when he gets close, its light glowing brightly against his body. He trots in place a little, curiosity practically bounding around it at this feeling it gives him, like… being strong? Brave. It looks kinda like… a star? Weird…
Lowering his neck, it doesn't particularly smell like anything, but somehow it reminds him of all the bright, warm days of spring as they lead into summer. It makes him giddy to think that this may even be some sort of exit, like a portal, and with an eager prod of his horn to investigate this theory, the contact instantly engulfs him with the same light and makes his mind go blank.
. . .
…Huh?
Suddenly his eyes are blinking open again, and here he is, sitting in some kind of… field? Or well, less sitting and completely slumped over onto the grass as he's overwhelmed by the sensation of a world around him, and soon the voice of someone right next to him before he notices they're there.
"Hey, are you okay?"
He jolts when the… girl? Bu-But not like him, with weird colors and front legs that reach up to him with small horns at the ends- "I said are you okay? Geez, you might actually have a concussion…"
Both his mouth and his stare are just gaping at her(?) and how flat and hornless her face is, with the only thing he really recognizes being the pretty mossy eyes and the mane dangling where her ears are supposed to be while her weird, furless face keeps moving around like that- Until he scrunches back when she tries to prod him with her freaky arm horns because this just too weird-
"Okay, now you're just being a jerk," she snorts, which he thinks might be a laugh?
Like you're one to talk, you're just being weird…
"…So, you gonna say anything, or…?"
Wait, what are you on about, can't you hear me?
"…Ooookay, guess not…" His head darts wildly up and down when the weird girl gets up- on just two of her legs?!? What the h- "What? Are you going to keep staring at me like that, or are you actually having a stroke or something?"
Frantically, having no idea how to communicate at this point given apparently whatever had just happened to him weakened his horn too much, he begins flailing around like any still-sane horn-haver would until, as it just so happens to turn out, he is not in fact still sane: Completely frozen in place after seeing his arms and… an-and they're not right in the slightest! They're just like hers, with- with the color hide over him and the freaky flesh horns and- what happened to his hooves?!?!?
"Okay, so this might be a stupid question at this point, but like are you actually okay; you're really starting to worry me now."
His face whips back up towards her, lungs breathing a gallop a second while he quickly reaches his hoofless arms into his mane and- Oh. Oh no, oh starlight where is his horn- No no no no no-
"Soooo… you did hit your head?" He completely ignores that as his twisted, messed-up flesh hooves jitter and tap all around his eyes and feeling everything wrong with his freaking face being flat and furless and- and-
When she goes to talk again he's cutting her off by slapping his hooflessness in desperation on top of his hornlessness, causing her to jump down to his current eye level and thrust her arm ends into his mane. "Wait, crap; Are you bleeding-"
Just like that, another wave of light from before swallows him like a current, whirling through his mind and body until almost just as quickly he's sitting again, but differently this time, held up entirely by her hands.
Wait. Wait.
"…Um."
Hands. They're called hands?
"Y…Yes?"
Wait, you can hear me now!?
"Oh good, so you do speak." The girl… Maka? How does he know this and that she's laughing because she's nervous- "Okay; one, um, step at a time…"
He sits there as he's told, partly because he's trying not to freak out right now, and especially because he's really trying not to freak out about how he can't move while avoiding looking at his body again so that he can remember how to breathe normally.
"Okay, so… Yeah, I'm Maka. I have hands, you're… currently in my hands… and I just met you after you suddenly bumped into me out of thin air, and for some reason I have a really big feeling you weren't a human boy before this." Human… Human, that's what… Why… "One step at a time. I've got this right so far?" …I think so. "Okay… So you're a human now, I guess, and just learned about hands and that you… don't have a horn anymore? I think??"
Deep breath, deep breath- Yeah. I have… I had a horn, and now it's gone because I guess I… turned into a human after touching that light I found, and I- I'm… Wait, why can't I remember what I'm named, Maka; I know yours but I-
"Okay, don't freak out. Just… I can kind of… see? That you were somewhere dark until you saw the light, and you got flashbanged by it, so I think…" That it made me forget some things when it changed me? "Exactly. Now that we're on… the same wavelength kinda, and know we both just met and are really confused and for some reason you can talk to me through my head because I guess you don't normally speak with your mouth…"
He lets Maka take a deep breath as the dread of their conclusion slowly lifts her hands to straighten his handle up.
"…Why did you just turn into a scythe when I touched you?"
Maka, I'd reeeeally love to answer that right now.
The dread fully plummets down his nonexistent stomach when she flops her forehead against him and he finally lets himself look at his body now being a metal pole and his horn… blade curves longer than probably even her size. It's black on top, and sharp and red on the bottom, which kinda isn't that much different from what his horn was like actually except its much more… vivid. Pronounced. Clear works, actually.
"God, this is so weird… Just like all the stories my papa used to tell me when I was a little kid……" Something curious bubbles up even through his deluge of anxiety and bafflement, making him interested enough to speak up a So you… have a family too? Like a human family? "Of course I have a family," she chuckles, at least until it snuffs out. "Had."
I don't think I'm supposed to ask, but somehow I feel a lot like you're feeling just now.
"Yeah, weird how I can feel that too… Do you have a family? Not humans, or…" Yeah, but we looked a lot like each other when I wasn't here. All of us have a horn and hooves, and a mane… oh, I guess you call it hair. 'Cause normally you don't have short fur all over you. "Yeah… Wait."
Somehow he can still move his eyes (although only at the same time and just one is facing her) to watch as Maka suddenly cranes her head up, staring at him with… wonder? Intrigue? Man, he's learning way too many words today- "Are you… are you telling me you're actually a unicorn?"
Images flow through his head like sand into water, of… horses, with long seashells for horns, and… That's… pretty close to how we look, actually. Is 'unicorn' what we're called to you? I don't think we have a same word for our family…
"Holy crap you're a unicorn…" she utters as if that somehow was any less strange than whatever the hornhole is going on with him right now, and also her. "All this time you're actually a unicorn, and now you're a scythe- and oh god, I must be dreaming. Hit by a car because I finally studied too much. I'm probably in a coma right now and this is all just a dream and you're just in my head, or an angel, or-"
Maka. One step at a time.
He feels her breath shudder when he does the same thing she did just now, playing his memories for her like reflections on calmed water of his brother and him racing through the burrows, and his nana humming her tune that turns the air into waves of starlight, and his ma and da greeting each other with their horns before he inevitably can't make his horn glow as strong as his brother's- Okay, maybe not that one.
A lighthearted giggle, like the fluttering wings of a bird taking off, raises Maka up onto her feet, looking right at him again with… a smile. It's so… warm, and… pretty? I like that a lot actually, it's a lot like when the sun hits the sea when- Oh my godlight, I just said that to you.
There's a way her face is turning red that he is just now learning is blushing and is the exact feeling of embarrassment she is showing by covering her mouth with one of her hands and not being able to look away while her voice goes soft from under her palm. "I've never been called pretty before- by a unicorn…"
We-Well you've never met a unicorn before so that makes it different and it's not like horn-sparking so just- I was just saying what I saw, yeah, he deflects, much like one deflects the dirt off of their shovel while digging their own grave. And yet somehow, mysteriously, he feels like he's deep beneath the ground where he could end up finding that dark place again at how she's… laughing? Happy? Entertained? This is too many words and thoughts to have in my head anymore.
"Y'know, when I imagined actually meeting a unicorn, this definitely wasn't what I thought of." Yeah that's one way to put it. I'd probably say the same thing if I even knew about humans first, and also hadn't turned into one. And then a scythe. "Well, um…"
Her smile falters when he can feel that the particular detail on the 'becoming human' bit also made him unable to think of what he's called (like as himself, not being a unicorn) so she has no idea what to refer to him as. "…Do you want a name right now?"
…I think that would make things a little easier, yeah.
"Okay, how aboooout…" Strange reflections ripple into him again, much faster this time so he doesn't have much room to grab onto any of them until they start to slow down, memories of some… movie? What's this fast-running pictures of?
"Oh sorry, I was remembering the time I used to watch The Last Unicorn when I was a kid; just trying to think of a name that would fit, sorry if that's offensive." He laughs, No, it's… interesting. I want to see it sometime, just maybe after I figure this out. "Yeah, alright. Let me try to actually pinpoint a name for you."
Words of stars and light rain like droplets through his mind, and strange words he could not possibly understand fall like pebbles, things that tie this earth to people and ones that reach the heavens, while everything in between- "Okay, potshotting now – How about Aether?" What a weird word. "I'm trying, okay- Grimm? Edgar? Stephen?" These are all weird words.
"Uggggh, fine," Maka rolls her head back, very much out of frustration until a moment of… something different goes through her head to him. "Okay, this might be a little stupid, but I think I have a good name…"
Should I want it if it's stupid?
"No, no; the name is fine, it's just the reason I thought of it…" A sense of interest looks at her with what he feels is called an eyebrow raise when another movie? gallops through his head, ushering her to well, tell me, then. "Alright hear me out, but… It's a name that's kind of similar to my dad's but I thought of it because there's a, um, horse movie with the same name, so I thought since you're like a horse- but cooler, I thought I'd give you… a name like that, but cooler than my dad, so…" he's on the edge of his what the hell is a seat when Maka takes a deep breath through her teeth and offers it up hesitantly. "…Can I call you Soul?"
…Y'know… I think I finally understand what grinning is.
Soul starts to get infected with her laugh as she readjusts his handle in her hands, the name likewise looked around in his head like he's had hands his whole life. "…So, I take it you want it?"
Yes, actually, this is like, the opposite of stupid. It's so cool even though I've never heard it before but it's cooler than your dad. Like cooler than cool, like- This feels like my name. Like you call me this and it's what I'm called- His feelings in his- his soul light up like they were his horn again, voice all giddy and practically leaping in place. Maka, call me it. I wanna be called it.
She can't help but chuckle, "Okay, okay; You're Soul. Nice to meet you."
Yeah. Yeah. That is so my name- THIS IS AWESOME!!
"Yeah! Yeah it is!!"
This excitement racing through them both is unstoppable and unlike anything he's felt before, almost like he is strong and bright, better than he ever could be on his own – but in a way that made him not alone, and like running across the world, also.
It's just something so unique and precious and he wants to hold onto it forever, much like the way Maka actually starts twirling him around while they both start whooping, until she pauses as a quieter thought rises up to the surface of even his mind. "…Hey Soul, if you came from somewhere else… what are you going to do now?"
And it just sinks into him for a moment while they're standing there out in the middle of a trail in the woods that he doesn't recognize.
…Huh.
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milowren29 · 3 months ago
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No longer a WIP, no longer a Wednesday
Hey hi hello! Thank you for the tags on WIP Wednesday @caterpills and @clockwrkpendrxgon! Work got pretty hectic for me this week, so I'm posting very late and also cheating a bit since the WIP I've been sharing snippets of for the last several weeks was completed and posted on ao3 this past Monday - so I'm taking this opportunity to promote it here in lieu of sharing anything new!
For some end-of-summer vacation/road trip/only one bed shenanigans, check out Oh Henry! (And yes, this entire fic was inspired by a candy bar that I saw on my own travels last month.)
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If you follow me on twitter, you may have seen that I am preparing to move across the country in a few weeks, which is very exciting and also extremely daunting! As a result, my posting will probably be pretty sporadic for the next month or so - please bear with me and I apologize in advance if I'm unable to participate in tags for a while! My hope is that I will have more time to write once I get settled in out there. :)
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split-spectrum · 1 year ago
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Water and Rock
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Interlude
Pairing: Obi Wan × FemReader
Warnings: None
Length: 1K (A Short Preview)
Spoilers below the cut...
☆☆☆
I wanted to show some appreciation for everyone who's been so kindly and patiently waiting for chapter ten, so here's an (early) WIP Wednesday bit.
This chapter is longer than the others, and I'm admittedly less comfortable with the technical aspects of spacey things so I'm very, very grateful people have been so nice about the long wait while I edit down 9K words, which I initially thought of splitting into two chapters, but eventually realized flows better as one.
I hope to have it posted very soon (this week-ish) and in the meantime, I'd like to share the first 1K in gratitude for those who have stuck through the wait.
Thank you again!
--
Several years ago, in the gardens of the Jedi temple on Coruscant...
"Please, Master. Be honest."
His eyes seem to snap back into focus when the tone of your voice goes up at the end of the question. He'd been looking at you, you realize, and you don't know for how long. The way he resets his posture before answering, he'd almost seemed... uncomfortable? On edge? You can't quite place it. Perhaps, you think, he senses your uncertainty. Your weakness.
With each second that passes before he responds, your anxiety increases. He shifts on the bench, sliding his gaze to the foliage in front of him, a whisper of a smile on his face.
"Often I am told," he says softly, "that these final days before one's padawan completes the trials are celebratory. Peaceful and reflective..."
You widen your eyes a bit and tilt your head, expectant - knowing he's feeling the tension of you staring at him without needing to look in your direction. But he does, eventually, turn to face you, dropping the act of the put-upon master.
"The council believes you are ready. They would not have asked you otherwise."
"That's not what I asked."
He holds your gaze. "I know you will pass. I have every confidence in your abilities."
You break eye contact. "Thank you. But that's not exactly what I asked, either."
He gives you a wry look. "Then perhaps you could clarify precisely what question I'm answering?"
You're tugging a loose thread at the end of your sleeve, hands in your lap. "Do you truly believe I'm ready?"
He doesn't answer right away. Your fingers still, stopping their fidgeting when you force yourself to look at him again. "Is it not normally the master who approaches the council when a padawan is ready for the trials? Isn't it unusual for the council to make a request like this?"
His brows raise in acknowledgement, and he nods slightly. "It is indeed unusual. But these are unusual times. And you possess a unique gift. The council does not make these decisions lightly."
"You still haven't answered my question."
The corners of his bearded mouth tip up into a melancholy smile. "Whether I believe you will pass or that you are ready may be two different questions, but my answer changes nothing. As Jedi, we have a responsibility to protect life and serve the Republic. You have been called upon, and if you are capable, you must answer." His expression becomes more sincere. "And you are capable."
You try to mirror his smile, but your stomach is upside down. "I understand."
You watch another pair of Jedi as they stroll through the greenery in the distance, seeming to take much more pleasure in their surroundings than you presently are. Silence hangs between the two of you, and it's a kind of silence that's never been there before. You're on the precipice of something, and it's not just the trials. Something about him in this moment is different. It's in the way he's looking at you; the way he hesitates before answering. He's not just thoughtful, or pensive. It's something else.
But then, something has changed in you, too - ever since the council shared those fated words.
You venture another question, your voice even quieter this time.
"Once I'm... no longer your padawan," you begin haltingly, "is it still permitted for me to seek your guidance, if I need it?"
As you tense your shoulders in anticipation of his answer, he just offers another smile. "You have my guidance whenever you are in need of it."
His words might have brought you comfort, if he'd left it at that. But he goes on.
"Even if I were to fall in battle tomorrow, the lessons I have passed on will always remain, as a part of you." He places a hand very gently at the side of your shoulder. "The teachings of generations of Jedi are within you. You need only ask for guidance, and you shall always have it."
He's rarely this affectionate, and it forces the rest of your words to stay wrapped up tightly inside you. It seems ungrateful, now, to ask whether you can still bother him for tea and meditation.
You bite back the question you'd really wanted to ask - the one that had been on your mind ever since your first discussion of the trials: Would you still be a team, even when things were different?
You pull your mouth into a tight smile that lacks the proper strength. All you can do now is nod.
Then, you do as he's always instructed - as you always have - and reach out into the force, releasing your feelings.
"Thank you, Master. You're right. I am ready."
--
Several years later, approaching the Separatist outpost on Asar-2...
"Are you alright?" Obi Wan asks after your second sigh permeates the silence in the cockpit.
The closer you get, the more reality is setting in, and you're struggling to hide it. Your initial thought is to lie, but it occurs to you that you're both in too far at this point to turn back. You tell the truth.
"I'm nervous."
A beat passes. He flips a couple of switches and you can't be sure whether he's silent in response to your answer, or just because he's concentrating on flying the ship. You squirm, just slightly, but enough for Obi Wan's muscles to stiffen. Yet again you have to remind yourself to stay still, and more words tumble out of you.
"The time pressure, and what's at stake... If we don't..."
"Commander," he interrupts you softly. "You have made your decision. Now you must be at peace with it."
This silences you. He's correct, as he usually is. And after this morning's heated discussion regarding your part in the mission, you can't have expected him to comfort you.
But he does anyway.
"There is no emotion; there is peace," he reminds you, his voice decidedly calm and even.
All at once, everything - the noise in your head, your buzzing nerves, the tense air that surrounds you - all of it begins to fade. The familiar mantra leaves your lips in answer to him. "There is no ignorance; there is knowledge..."
You finish the lines, and he helps you, murmuring the words just behind yours, as he moves a gloved hand here and there to keep the ship on course.
"There is no death," you complete the last line slowly. "Only the force."
There is no death...
"We'll be landing in a moment. Remember, we approach from the West - landing South and coming over that ridge, there." He gestures through the windshield and your eyes follow. "You'll need to deactivate the lateral thrusters for me. I can't reach them with you sitting like this."
He points again, to a switch just above your knee. You lean forward. "Alright. Just tell me when."
His breath is shortened, his voice strained when he answers. "Thirty more seconds."
...
--
More to come soon!
Tag List: @cosmicsierra @projectdreamwalker @guacam011y @thriving-n-jiving @reverieisaway @cursedfaechild @honeymoon7770 @hedvighedvig @cool-ontherun-world @ladytano420
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inafieldofdaisies · 1 year ago
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WIP Whenever (not me thinking yesterday wasn't Wednesday for a good chunk of it and then being too drained to post... just pretend I ain't late) | Tagged by @direwombat @adelaidedrubman and @nightbloodbix ❤️
I'm coming with Calahan and Mary May POVs for this week's check-in. All the feels, for sure. 💔
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Light streamed into the living room of Mary May's place on the second floor of the Spread Eagle, making Calahan change positions and bury his face in the couch cushions in an attempt to get a couple of extra minutes of rest. The previous night, he had sneaked back into the bar with Leslie for a celebratory drink after they had successfully gotten Zorro and his clothes out of his Peggie infested cabin. Once they had parted ways, he had climbed upstairs as quietly as he could and crashed on the couch without a much craved shower, knowing Mary May would be out cold at the late hour and wouldn’t appreciate him barging into her bedroom unannounced. The first thing he heard that early morning as he did his hardest to stay asleep were her footsteps as she left her room and headed for the small kitchen. She was humming under her breath as she made coffee, the scent carrying over to him and teasing his senses. A few minutes later, a cup was placed at the coffee table next to him, and he could feel Mary May looming over the couch. When she didn't move, he reluctantly turned and looked at her with blurry eyes, "Is it an emergency?" He took a second to take in her messy blond hair and oversized t-shirt, ignoring the slightly annoyed look on her face. "Good morning to you, too, Rookie.", she rolled her eyes at his impatient tone before moving back to the kitchen to make herself breakfast. "I could feel you staring, you know.", he retorted and threw a hand over his eyes, deciding he would lay down a little bit longer seeing how for the past few days he had been running around the Valley on so many errands and barely getting any sleep. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, I was making sure you were still breathing. Can't have the Resistance lose its leader." Calahan let out a laugh at her dodging his flirting yet again, "Whatever you say, gorgeous."
Mary May took a seat on the small kitchen table that only had two chairs thanks to the tiny space she was using as living quarters. She bit into a piece of toast before asking, "So how did it go with John's doppelganger? What trouble did you get him into?" "He's got potential, that's for sure. Helped me get my shit from the cabin, and we had fun doing it. Remind me to have a word with Sabrina for hiding him." "And did "your shit" also include a certain raccoon?", she raised an eyebrow. Calahan peeked over the back of the couch, sending a smile her way that usually worked in convincing people to see things his way. With Mary May, sadly, all his tactics seemed to have the opposite effect usually. "Zorro will be on his best behavior, I promise. You won't even notice he's around. Plus… he gives mean foot rubs." "Rookie.", disbelief seeped into her tone. "Fine. The foot rubs were a lie. Though, I can take up on that task." "You ain't coming anywhere near my feet, Rookie." "Your loss. And Zorro?" "You really love gettin' on my nerves early in the morning." Calahan gestured around her living room, "He won't take up much of your space and he will be out with me, anyway." Mary May let out a laugh, the first sign he was getting somewhere, "It's like you're trying to sell me a piece of furniture." "I couldn't leave him behind, gorgeous. He's my son." A huff escaped her, probably at the pout he followed his words with, "He's a raccoon."
"Still my son. He was defending the cabin, you know. Costed one Peggie a finger. Scared the life out of Leslie, too, to the point he tried to flee the room like a bat out of hell. It was hilarious.", he couldn't help the proud smile that emerged at the memory. His words piqued her interest, "Did he now?" "Told you I was teaching him tricks before Joseph's takeover. He is one of us, just stuck in a raccoon body, unable to talk." Mary May rolled her eyes before saying, "Fine. He can stay. Just… keep "your son" in check. I find something in here destroyed, he gets the boot." "You love him, you just don't want to admit it. Thank you.", he blew a kiss her way before lying back down and shifting his gaze up to the ceiling as his mind ran over the potential tasks he could take on next. He was dying to take a drive and check up on Hurk and Sharky, knowing the two were probably in the deep with the cult, but he knew chances were less capable of taking care of themselves people needed his help in the Valley. "Have him scratch a Seed's eye out or something, and I might start to like him." Silence took over as Mary May finished her breakfast while Calahan closed his eyes, set on enjoying the precious minutes of peace, knowing with the County on lockdown that never truly lasted. Eventually, she got up and walked to the couch, her arms came to rest on the back as she leaned over to look at Hartley. "You're staring again.", he muttered before cracking one eye open and meeting her baby blues, "Not that I mind." "Whatever you say, Sleeping Beauty. It's rare that you shut up, forgive me for thinking you had fallen asleep on me." "Sleeping Beauty, huh? There's a proven method to wake me up then, gorgeous." "You say, 'a kiss', I'm banning you from the bar for a week, Rookie." "You're no fun.", he stuck out his tongue, before asking, "So… why did you need me awake?"
Mary May took a deep breath, for once looking uncertain, "I know you have enough on your plate as is and I don't want to join in with all the folks asking you for help…" Calahan rose up to a sitting position that brought him on the same eye level as her when he said in a serious tone, "Whatever you need, just ask." He was well aware only inches separated them to the point he could start counting the freckles scattered across her nose and she seemed to have realized the same thing as her gaze darted to his lips for a second. It happened so quick he could have missed it if he had blinked, but he didn't. You like me, Angel. Too bad you refuse to admit it, let alone act on it. But in a way Calahan was glad about her faking disinterest. He told himself it was for the best, that it would be an unwanted complication in the middle of a holy war, that the last thing he needed was to fall for anyone and he was certain with her it would be unavoidable and as natural as breathing. The biggest trouble I can ever get myself into. He had wholeheartedly expected Mary May to pull back and put more space between them, but as the seconds ticked by, she remained glued to the spot with an unreadable expression on her face. She finally cleared her throat, "I was wondering if you'd help get the Widowmaker back." "Your daddy's truck?" Mary May nodded, sadness swimming in her eyes, "John had his men steal it. And as you know, I was too "preoccupied" to chase after them.", a frown appeared as she added, "Bastard doesn't know how to keep his hands off my things, does he?" "We're getting it back, gorgeous. And the next thing of his I fuck up, you bet would be dedicated to you." A small smile that pulled at his heart erased the scowl, "Can I come with?" "Like you even have to ask me that.", Calahan booped her nose and got up, heading for the bathroom as he called out, "I'm going to put a word out, find where they're keeping the truck."
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Mary May watched Hartley disappear into her bedroom and stayed put until she heard the bathroom door close behind him. The second it did, she took it as a sign to move and entered the room, trying to ignore the sound of the running water and the visuals that threatened to appear in her mind. She quickly changed into a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, wanting to not waste too much time in case Calahan decided to cut his shower short. She couldn't deny for some reason it had taken her a more than the usual amount of willpower to stop staring at his bare chest as he slept on her couch that morning. The fact he had called her lingering gaze out didn't help matters. Should tell him to find a new place to sleep at or at least shower elsewhere. Definitely to stop walking around shirtless and promise I'd throw him out otherwise. Yeah, he'd have a field day hearing that one. Mary May immediately hated the idea of making him leave, she had grown used to having his presense around the bar and how he was always willing to try to make her crack a smile or offer a distraction from the headaches John Seed was causing her. Calahan Hartley was a ball of chaos, but also a breath of fresh air and a helping hand to anyone that needed assistance at dealing with the cult. Days back John had spared no resources in taking over Fall's End, finally succeeding at closing down the Spread Eagle with her en route back to his bunker, to the hell she had barely escaped last time.
Or so the bastard thought. The victory hadn't lasted long. Just until Hartley had barelled into town in no other than a stolen Peggie truck and wipped out John's men like nobody's business. Then he had rushed at her with worry in his eyes, curse words directed at the youngest Seed spilling out of his mouth as he had cut her free. "Are you hurt, Mary May? 'Cause I swear to God, John won't know what's coming for him… I ain't losing anyone else.", he had asked while he examined her all over, his tone dead serious, promising of good old trouble headed John's way. As she, Calahan and Jerome had pried away the boards nailed to one of the only things her father had left her: the bar and reopened it, Mary May had been the first to offer the Deputy a place to stay when he needed it, feeling like it was the least she could do as a thank you for helping her keep her promise and her old man's wish alive. Off-key singing pulled her out of the memory and she found herself biting back a smile at the idea that the man that was rapidly turning into the Project's number one enemy and had somehow ended up leading a resistance against it, was currently showering in her very bathroom and acting like anything but a vicious vigilante. Not all heroes wear capes, alright. Some work as deputies that have broken more laws than the people they arrest and own a raccoon they consider a son. She quickly exited the bedroom and strode downstairs, set on preparing the bar for the day and putting any thoughts of Hartley at the back burner, where they belonged.
The first thing to greet her were small feet scurrying off across the wooden floors that made her release a sigh before she called out, "Zorro." Initially the name had no effect until seconds later when a head poked out from behind the bar and "Calahan's son" rushed at her, wrapping his paws around her leg in what his owner deemed as "greeting". "Morning to you, too, boy.", Mary May muttered as she stared down at the raccoon, then pointed towards the stairs, "Up to your father you go now. I have to open the bar. Can't have you chasing off paying customers." The raccoon made no move, dark gaze trained on her face, forcing her to repeat more sternly, "Up, Zorro." At the command Zorro finally sprung into action, waddling over to the stairs and sneaking a look her way to see if she was following as he began to climb up. He got half of the way and stopped, making Mary May shake her head, "What? Want me to come too? Fine. Guess I do need to open the door for you. Maybe he should teach you how to do that." The second her boots hit the first step, the raccoon resumed his ascend. "Bit off a Peggie's finger, did ya now?", Zorro's ears perked up as if he understood her words, "Good job.", then she frowned, "And I'm talking to a raccoon. Your daddy is rubbing off on me, Zorro." She pushed open the door that separated the downstairs area and her living quaters and followed him inside at the exact moment Calahan chose to emerge from her bedroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist as he dried off his hair with another.
"Jesus, Rookie.", the words left her before she could stop them, winning a laugh out of him. "Thought you headed down. Sorry.", Hartley explained sheepishly, while his smug smile was anything but apologetic and only widening at the fact she was most definitely gawking and yet to get anything else out, "Enjoying the view, gorgeous? For the record, I don't blame you for coming back for more." Pull yourself together. Mary May returned her narrowed gaze back to his face, and after a final look at him, she twirled around and said, "Make sure your son behaves." The door cut off his throaty laughter while she took the stairs two at a time and tried her hardest to stop her mind from wandering into a dangerous territory, of wondering what the small tattoo above his hip spelled. Sure as hell ain't asking him. He won't let me live that one down. Back down in the bar, she made it her mission to exorcize him from her thoughts, focusing on taking down the chairs and making sure everything was in place for opening and when she ran out of tasks to keep her preoccupied, she moved onto the small kitchen, arranging whatever Casey had left out of place. Mary May frowned at the knowledge her only employee was no doubt going to be late, that she had nobody to distract her with small talk.
She was used to Calahan's advances, to his casual flirting, had gotten pretty good at ignoring it all and having an array of reasons why she had to do it. Yet as the months passed and he stuck around, the list with reminders of why getting involved with him was out of the question had suddenly started to become shorter. She was starting to forget. To yearn. It was the worst idea to harbor. Especially now that everything had gone to shit. Maybe I should send him to sleep at the church… make him Jerome's problem. Then she'd be all alone again. Left to dwell on the past, on everything she had lost and regretted. Or she could continue laughing at Calahan's jokes. Have his devilish blue eyes be the first thing she saw each morning. Yes, keeping him around for the time being sounded like the better option. A car engine cut off outside, followed by the jiggle of the bell above the bar's entrance that made her poke her head in through the serving hatch of the kitchen, "We're not open yet." Her breath hitched for a second as her eyes settled on the person that had entered.
Phantom pain shooting across her chest inevitably came next, just like it had with his surprising arrival the day before. It was almost as strong as it had been in that awful moment she had found herself in John Seed's chair, teary eyes staring at him bathed in red hues, her blood becoming one with the room when he made true on his promises of immeasurable pain. Her hopeless screams filling the dead silence, drowning out his patient voice as the realization nobody would come for her sank in. She could still hear his sick reassurances how she had made the right choice by finally "saying Yes" after hours of torture, that the fact she had confessed her "sins" meant she was a step closer to his precious Eden. The twisted delight in his blue gaze still haunted her. The memory lingered just like the crude scar he had left he with. Seeing Hudson on screen anytime she turned on the TVs in the bar only reopened her old wounds. You're still standing. Free. Alive. The bar is open. He hasn't won. And never will. "Morning, Mary May. Should I come back then? Figured I could catch up with Cal before he runs off somewhere.", the apologetic tone and genuine smile were a quick reminder she wasn't facing the man that had made it his job to destroy everything she held dear. Not that she would ever actually confuse the two, but she had to admit the resemblance was quite jarring and she'd need time to get used to not wincing at the sight of his face.
"Ah, now, as the owner of this fine establishment, I can always make an exception, Detective. Anything to drink?" Leslie shook his head as he pulled out one of the chairs at the bar and sat down. "Still not at the stage where I'm morning drinking." "Stick around some more, and you'd get there, Les. It's a rite of passage for anyone settling down in the County ever since the Seeds came along.", Mary May retorted as she exited the kitchenette and slipped into her usual spot. Gary Fairgrave used to have those days where he'd throw back a glass of bourbon while cursing the Project to hell and back before heading off towards the bar after bidding her and her mother a goodbye. "I knew that family was rotten down to the root from the moment they got here. Shit smells like shit, no matter how much french perfume you spray on it.", it was what her old man used to say, taking pride in how his gut instinct had been right about the Seeds. Years later, she was the only one left from the Fairgraves to carry on his legacy and keep the deep-seated hate alive. Leslie gave her a sad smile, seeming at struggle with his own demons, "It all feels like a nightmare, yet my alarm for work is yet to ring and wake me up." A grimace pulled at her features, and her hands set back to straightening the pile of glass coasters at the bar, ignoring how many of them had Calahan's phone number on them, "Wish I could say things would get better…"
"Hope.", Leslie muttered with a strange look. "Hm?", she couldn't help her bitter laugh. "It's what we always have left. Hope. Sabrina would always tell me that. Tell it to any worried family we had to meet with." His words made her release a sigh, "You two are going to find her." Yet a part of her worried. That John had his claws deep into the bright-eyed Deputy. That Calahan was wrong about Sabrina's unwavering conviction. That maybe she had been a traitor all along, and all of them had just failed to see it. Whistling carried from the stairs accompanied by Calahan taking the steps quickly, and in record time, he was at Leslie's side. "My new partner returns.", he exclaimed in a greeting before playfully slapping his back and taking the seat next to him. "Come on, my boy.", Hartley reached down and picked up Zorro from the ground. "Chairs are for paying-" "-customers.", he finished her complaint as he set the raccoon down in one of the empty chairs, "Come on, gorgeous, how can you turn down such a cute face?" Mary May frowned at his puppy dog eyes and the fact they were working. A little. "Doesn't change the fact he's an animal." "A member of the Resistance. And… I was talking about myself." "You ain't cute, Rookie."
Leslie choked back a laugh as Calahan rubbed at his chest, groaning in pain for good measure, "One day, you're gonna realize what you're missing, gorgeous. And I won't be looking for payback for these insults. Too much." He sent a wink her way before clicking his tongue at Zorro in a signal, then turning to Leslie, "Shall we go then, partner? See what plans of John's we can sabotage?" The detective was the first to get up, followed by no other than Calahan's son on the way to the door. Hartley remained seated as he regarded her with a heated expression before leaning over the bar the same way he had earlier that morning and whispering, "I will see to locating what you need me to find. Try not to think about me too much while I'm gone." All she could seem to do was exhale and then involuntary inhale his scent while his baby blues stayed glued to hers. "Thank you for breakfast, by the way. I sure can get used to it." "You gonna start paying me rent, Rookie?", she finally managed to croak out, adding, "For two preferably." Calahan ignored her words and the fact he had someone waiting on him and observing the whole thing, "Can you feel this?" "Hmm?", she gave him a confused look, refusing to back away first and prove that he was getting to her. "How good we could be… if only you weren't so damn stubborn." He moved back, finally putting space between them again and with another wink was gone. Mary May stared at the door, willing for the pesky longing to go away and refusing to admit how for a second, it felt like he had taken all the oxygen from the room with him.
Tagging @clicheantagonist @josephseedismyfather @socially-awkward-skeleton @thesingularityseries @detectivelokis @aceghosts @madparadoxum @chazz-anova @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @dumbassdep @shegetsburned @poisonedtruth @cassietrn @voidika @harmonyowl @v0idbuggy @strangefable @schoute @jacobsneed @strafethesesinners @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @nightwingshero @josephslittledeputy @euryalex @florbelles @neonneurons @simplegenius042 @vampireninjabunnies-blog and anyone with something to share ❤️
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wip wednesday
Double-tagged by my beloveds @walkinginland and @theawkwardterrier 💜 Thank you friends!! I do have bits and pieces for chapter 9 of Seaside in the works, but everything feels a little spoilery at this point for this next arc, so dropping a whole scene from my tbbfiy wip instead, which just might end up getting shared piecemeal in tumblr posts at this rate 😅 
Claire woke slowly, her awareness returning in pieces. It was dark in the room, and completely still; no crying children running to their bed for shelter or someone banging on the door for a healer. That wasn’t what had woken her this time. There was warmth over her belly — a hand, she realized belatedly, with the thumb stroking softly in half-circles over the fabric of her nightgown. Jamie’s hand. Jamie’s voice, too — barely above a whisper, and the only sound in the room. 
“—and two wee sisters who will love and dote on ye. Faith may order ye about but she’s a fierce wee protector of those she loves, and ye’ll be glad to have her looking out for ye. And Brianna will just want tae be yer friend and playfellow. She’s never had a younger sibling, ye ken, so it’ll be new for her.” 
Claire didn’t want to move or even breathe, lest she disrupt the conversation Jamie was having with the baby, but she felt a lump rise in her throat listening to him talk so. Had he felt the same as he’d described for Brianna, when his mother was carrying his baby brother? The one he never got to meet… 
Don’t follow that train of thought, Beauchamp.
“—And what can I say about yer mam that ye don’t already ken? If ye decide to stay, you’ll have the most wonderful mother this life can give ye. She loves ye so much already… as do I.” 
Tears were spilling hot down her cheeks, and she couldn’t even say for sure that her hormones had anything to do with those. “Stay put, mo chridhe.” It was the same fatherly tone he used with Fergus and the girls when he expected absolute obedience, when it was a matter of their safety and wellbeing — stern and protective in equal measure. She felt Jamie press a kiss to her belly and beg in a tight whisper, “please.” 
It was the begging that did her in. She couldn’t lie there unaffected any longer; she reached for him, carding fingers through his curls and clutching his head to her belly. She loved him — endlessly, for a million reasons — but in that moment she loved him most for how scared he’d always been of the risks to her and any child she carried, and that he’d still given her this next chance, fears and all, when she’d asked it of him. She loved him for his wide-open heart for a life that might never be, especially when they’d already been down the path of heartache and loss before. “Come here,” she murmured to him. He shifted up the bed until his head was level with hers. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, deeply. 
They would be alright, she knew. No matter what, she would be alright as long as she had him with her, for the good days and the bad. 
But she hoped to god she hadn’t seen the last of Jamie Fraser’s face when he held his child for the first time.
I’m not sure who is currently working on a wip they’d like to share, so no-pressure tagging @lord-jen-grey @lara-frasers and @frasers-of-my-heart and anyone else who might want to participate, consider yourself tagged!  
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darlingpoppet · 9 months ago
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WIP Wednesday — WTDF Ch 7 Excerpt #2
Whenever I participate in WIP Wednesday it’s usually already Thursday in my timezone so I hope you’ll allow me to post during my Wednesday right at midnight, haha.
Where The Dead Forget chapter 7 is coming along nicely and as I get closer I still seem to be on track for a roughly end-of-February-beginning-of-March publication. I said in the last check-in that the chapter is mostly Patroclus-pov so today I offer a sample of what he is getting up to! This scene also offers a big hint as to which Iliad characters are making their cameo appearance in this story. That scene is in the home stretch now and it is LONG but I’m pleased so far by how it’s turning out :)
Sorry that this excerpt plops us right in the middle of a scene but if I may offer a bit of context: Patroclus has been speaking to a group of drunken shades who are passing around a bottle of ambrosia between them while they sloppily recount a very contradictory and off-color version of a Certain Achilles-related myth, until this happens:
“That is no way to speak when an honored guest is present, now is it?” A voice says.
Patroclus turns toward its source, and sees a shade approaching them. The man reaches out to wrap a friendly yet protective arm around Patroclus’ shoulder. He makes a small show of shaking his head in disapproval, tisking loudly.
“I swear, the manner of this realm grows more barbaric with each passing age. It is as if everyone here has forgotten how to uphold the sacred customs of hospitality, or even basic manners.” He faces Patroclus, addressing him directly: “These shades have been acting quite rude to you, haven’t they? Not once did they even offer you some of their drink.”
“Hey, now see here,” one of the shades growls. “This bottle was hard-won, I’ll have you know. We earned it in the arena fair and square, and we shouldn’t be expected to give it away to any random shade who comes wandering up to us. If he wants it so bad, he can go get some himself!”
The shade shakes his head ruefully.
“You see what I mean? No sense of brotherhood or principles among this lot, whatsoever. I’m guessing they didn’t even invite you to sit down.”
“No,” Patroclus says. If he were being honest, he doesn’t much care for this one swooping in with his sudden and unprompted gallantry. But it is easier for Patroclus to answer truthfully, and his growing irritation with the group gives him no incentive to make any effort to defend them.
“If you’re so keen to show this fellow a good time, why don’t you take him back to your place yourself,” another shade slurs out with a roguish grin. “He seems to be asking around for the best hero to fuck.”
“As if you weren’t the one who was just speaking of his fondness for men’s holes.”
The ribald banter has the group swooning with drunken laughter once again.
“Oh, all of you are incorrigible! Vulgar barbarians,” the shade huffs, speaking to Patroclus over the noise with an almost exaggerated, dignified haughtiness. “Come, my friend, we do not have to listen to this filth any longer. I shall take you to where we are able speak in peace, if you are willing. You wish to know about someone in particular, do you not?”
“Er… yes,” Patroclus answers, his eyes darting to the now distracted shades, still in the throes of laughter, before flickering back to this other shade, who by now he has identified as someone familiar to him, though his mind still searches as to exactly how. “All right.”
The shade smiles pleasantly at the acceptance of his offer. His teeth flash brightly against the the deep color of his sun-browned skin—he has a snaggletoothed canine on one side of his mouth which gives his grin a youthful charm, in spite of the stately handsomeness of his face.
The shade leads Patroclus to a secluded clearing not too far away. It is not unlike Patroclus’ own glade, hidden behind vines and easily passed over by anyone who does not have a mind to look for it. The shade pulls aside a lush curtain of hanging leaves to unlatch the gate, inviting Patroclus to enter ahead of him. Patroclus, acting cautious, does not move right away—instead looking to the shade with an unwavering gaze, giving him his full attention.
“Thank you, son of Hippolochus,” he says pointedly. The shade grins.
“You remember me then,” he says. “I am glad. Go on, son of Menoitius. And please do not worry. We offer our hearth to you in friendship.”
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evolutionsbedingt · 6 months ago
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Wip Wednesday Snippet
Hello and welcome back! Now that I've finally settled on a zi for Yue-zhanglao/Elder Yue I can share a bit more of what I've been working on more recently!
Much of yesterday and today was spent buried in naming guides and websites, poetry books and two separate Chinese dictionaries. I'll infodump on Yue-zhanglao’s ming and zi on another post though!
Our heroes have recently arrived in the capital and moved into a residence provided by the man who invited them!
★★★
Within the first few days of their journey, Shangjue and Zijian-xiongzhang agreed to keep their civilian disguise while they are in the city and they stick to this plan now. But the servants of the manor seem to know too little of their identity and Shangjue doesn’t quite know what to make of their confusion in addressing them until the manservant assigned to him finally asks a rather illuminating question.
“This lowly one begs Gong-daren’s forgiveness for asking so brazenly, but may this servant know which station Gong-daren’s esteemed xiongzhang has? This servant was not instructed to expect someone other than Gong-daren.” The man looks truly contrite, wringing his hands as surreptitiously as he can, and Shangjue can't fault him for asking.
It also dawns on him then that his reverent treatment of Zijian-xiongzhang as his Elder and Zijian-xiongzhang’s deference towards him as the one more experienced with the outside world and the leader of this particular expedition must leave the servants at a loss as to who is in charge of the household, if it can be called that. They’ve both been directing the disciples of Jue manor and the Jade Guardians and, having many weeks of practice now, their orders didn’t contradict each other, so the servants had no chance to observe whose order would supersede the other’s. And both the disciples and the Jade Guardians have gotten used to calling them both "Shaoye" now, only switching to Yue- or Jue-gongzi if it can't be avoided.
Shangjue realises they never discussed how to deal with this particular situation beyond deciding to pretend to be civilians. Well. Hopefully, the manservant will accept the truth and Zijian-xiongzhang won’t mind Shangjue telling it. “He’s my older paternal cousin who ranks above me in matters of the family, but I’m in charge of the public facing side of our business and the matters of this journey.”
The manservant’s face hasn't quite decided on an emotion to settle on yet when they're approached by someone.
“Mei-guanjia, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Zijian-xiongzhang says, seemingly oblivious to the situation he has just stepped into, smiling mildly at Mei-guanjia when he startles at being addressed. “But I was told that you were the one to speak to in regards to the meal plan for both Shang’er and I. I’m afraid there are a few adjustments that need to be made, for Shang’er in particular.”
“I- Of course, yes, this servant will be right with-” he struggles for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a number of times before he weakly settles on the formal, “you.”
“Will xiongzhang join me for dinner? There are a few matters I’d like to discuss with you before we retire,” Shangjue says, turning to Zijian-xiongzhang and hoping that his amusement at the servant’s struggle isn’t too obvious.
“Of course,” Zijian-xiongzhang says with an elegant nod, his face serene as ever. “I’ll just see about getting the dishes adjusted. And if you could have someone send our tea to the kitchen?”
“I’ll have it done,” Shangjue says, nodding to both Zijian-xiongzhang and Mei-guanjia. “If your question was answered, I’ll leave first.”
“Yes, Gong-daren, thank you for your explanation,” Mei-guanjia assures him hurriedly, folding his hands in a salute. “This lowly one won’t keep Gong-daren any longer.”
Despite his best efforts, Shangjue’s amused smile slips out and he quickly steps away, only barely hearing Mei-guanjia ask Zijian-xiongzhang whether there are any particular dishes from Fujian Gong-daren would miss. When he glances back he sees the faint look of confusion colouring Zijian-xiongzhang’s handsome face and he has to look away lest he start laughing.
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fanfic-scribbles · 4 months ago
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WiP Wednesday - Dinner Date Ch 34
(Lotta writing rambling; skip to the ~ if you wanna get to the good bit but warning that something big happens in the next Dinner Date chapter and I included it because it's fun so consider this your spoiler warning if you don't wanna know anything.)
So I swear I have been working hard. I've just been working hard on TWO chapters that are both becoming much longer than I expected :') I have a chapter of "Digestifs" I'm trying to get done first, since it happens technically on the timeline before "Dinner Date" but...I'm having a hard time focusing. So I continue to work on whatever catches my attention each day and if DD finishes first then I'll just put a note on "Digestifs." It's gonna feel a little weird if you follow both but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Anyways. Here's a snippet of the next Dinner Date chapter that I debated posting because it gives away a major Thing that happens, but...I'm not making a story for the plot twists, and it's going to be obvious that this is the main subject of the chapter probably from the summary. If you don't wanna know anything until the chapter is up I totally get it, I hope you don't mind my long-winded whining on why Writing Is Hard (BOTH of these chapters doubled in size what is wrong with me istg), and I will see you hopefully soon with something. For anyone who does want proof that I am Doing Something and doesn't mind a bit of a hook, click behind the cut :)
~
As soon as the door shut and Maria and Phil were buckling up in front, I leaned over the seat. “Is Steve okay?”
“He’s going to be just fine,” Phil said and started the engine. “Buckle up.”
At least I had that, so I sat back and did as he said. “Why did Natasha call me instead of him? Is he hurt bad? Why did you come to pick me up? What is going on?”
“Most of it I think I’ll let Captain Rogers tell you,” Phil said, sounding almost business-like. He’d never talked to me like this before, so I paid attention. “But the facts are this: there was an altercation with a potential enemy agent known as the Winter Soldier. Captain Rogers engaged him while Agent Romanoff and Falcon attempted to retrieve important intel.” Phil looked in the rearview mirror at me. Maria was pretending not to exist, so I focused on him. “Steve is in the hospital, but he shouldn’t be there for too long. Overnight at most,” Phil said, a little gentler. “But he was still hurt in the scuffle.”
There was so much I wasn’t being told I felt like I was fucking choking on the elephant. “He’s been hurt and in the hospital before. Why did you guys come to pick me up?”
Phil looked back at the road, and didn’t glance at me anymore. “We have more information now, on the Winter Soldier,” he said, going matter-of-fact flat again. “His past, his…identity.”
There was silence. I tried to peer around the seat. Maria looked at him sharply, but I couldn’t see Phil’s reaction. Just hear him as he picked up like he’d never left off. “And some of his movements over the past couple of years. We have reason to believe he may know who you are. Specifically, who you are to Captain Rogers.”
Well. That was unsettling. I sat back in the seat. “Does it really matter that much?” I asked. “And what does ‘potential enemy’ mean? Who is this guy?”
“It’s complicated,” Phil said. “Captain Rogers will tell you more.”
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