#darla jade | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chronicangel · 21 hours ago

Text

lavender moon: Act 1 Chapter 7

Link to this fic on AO3. Words: 5312 Date posted: January 7, 2024 Summary:

The Dersite royal family are famed for their powerful magic, but Prince Dave does not have any. Prospit is an insular nation who believes magic to be inherently corrupting and wicked, and yet Princess Jade has magic flowing through her veins. When their marriage is arranged to end a centuries-long war, they have a lot to figure out.

This fic will be on a brief (ish) hiatus. We'll be back with our usual programming in February!

The morning of Jade’s wedding, her mind occupies itself rehashing all of her old anxieties and mulling over new ones.

Maybe she had been oversimplifying things when she told Dave last night that she was only a little nervous about going to Derse. She’s sure that things aren’t anything like she imagined based on the horror stories she was fed as a child about their rival kingdom. Dave is a shining example of how kind and wonderful they can be. But that doesn’t mean she’s not still scared.

What if she gets there and they’re just as violent as she was always taught they are? Dave and Karkat would never let anything happen to her, but who’s going to stop anything from happening to them? She doubts anyone is going to be endeared to the loud-mouthed Prospitian soldier she dragged along with her, and Dave is already the black sheep.

Or what if they’re not? What if she gets there and they’re all perfectly lovely, and she has to know with certainty that they were wrong? That her family spent hundreds of years waging a war on an innocent country for the crime of allowing magic to flourish and feeding the people propaganda so they wouldn’t question it? Then the only thing Derse ever would have done wrong was accepting people like her, while all of the people she loves would have been complicit in an attempted genocide.

And it would be easy if that were really the thing she was most afraid of, but it’s not. If the worst thing that happened because of her marriage was that she learned the worst people she had ever heard of weren’t actually that bad, overall, she would call that a win. But regardless of what happens in Derse, Jade is leaving Prospit.

She’s afraid of what she’ll miss.

Her father is sick and dying, and as much as she wants to believe that she’s going to learn the magic that she needs to heal him and make it all better, she’s so scared that he’s going to die and she won’t even be there. That she’s going to move away and then that’ll be it, and she’ll just never see him again. How is she supposed to live with herself if her father’s light is gone from the world and she doesn’t even see it fade away? And then they’ll put him in the ground somewhere, and she won’t be at his funeral, and she’ll never visit his grave, all because she thought that maybe she could save him if she ran away.

And it’s not just Dad. Her brother has just been crowned king, and when they were growing up, she always thought that she would be there to support him. They both knew that it was going to be scary and hard, and now he’s going to have to do it by himself because she’s leaving him. The idea of missing all of his milestones is devastating. Yesterday they were joking about how he’ll have to take a queen someday, and now all she can think is that she’s never going to be able to go to his wedding, not like he’s here for hers. She’s never going to hold his first child, or visit the capital city with him.

Dad and John and all of the rest of their family are here for this wedding, and it might be the last time she ever sees any of them, and that’s terrifying.

And it’s not like the family that she’s joining is exactly welcoming. Dave seems terrified of them, or at least, he closes off anytime he talks about them, and she can’t get the image of his face when their arrival was announced out of her mind.

She wants to know why he seems so scared of them. She wants to know if it’s more than just being the black sheep, if something happened to him, but there’s no way to ask that—or if there is, then no one ever taught her how. Are they cruel? Are they going to be cruel to her? For a moment she tries to comfort herself that nothing could be worse than the utter isolation she’s lived with in Prospit her entire life, and immediately she’s struck with such an intense wave of guilt that she almost buckles under the weight of it. Her family loves her, she knows that. And for whatever reason, Dave doesn’t have that same assurance.

“What do you think?” Kanaya’s voice cracks through her rising despair like it is made of ice, and suddenly her attention snaps back to the room around her and the mirror in front of her. She had almost forgotten Kanaya was dressing her.

Jade’s clothes are not the rich, royal blue that John’s had been. Her base dress is made from a brocade in a lighter shade of blue, much like the summer sky peering in from the nearby window, with thin strands of gold expertly woven into the fabric, shimmering like fields of wheat in the breeze. The sleeves of the underdress are made from a different material from the bodice and skirts, a lighter taffeta dyed a shade of blue so pale it’s almost white, like puffy clouds. The real sleeves are tied with thin silk ribbons to the bodies, made from the same silky brocade.

Her skirts are held in a bell-like shape that billows from her hips by a farthingale made from taffeta and whalebone. If she were getting married in the winter, she would have several layers of petticoats creating a fluffy, cloud-like appearance at her feet instead, but such a thing simply isn’t practical for late summer.

Kanaya has been dressing her for formal events long enough that the bodies are not pulled uncomfortably tightly, but Jade can see how much they thin her waist, anyway. They work with the long skirt, the ends of the fabric just barely shorter than floor-length to show the tips of her toes, to make her look just a little bit taller. She’s wearing the sort of shoes with thick heels that are mostly worn by men to give her just a couple more inches. Standing in front of Dave, she’ll need as much help in that area as she can get.

They have all sorts of gold jewelry on her: layered necklaces, heavy earrings, and delicate chains woven through her hair and around her neck and shoulders. A circlet she thinks must have belonged to her mother sits on top of the intricate braided bun all of her hair has been piled into, which feels so heavy it’s hard to keep her head up. She wants to believe that’s the only reason.

It’s beautiful, but it all blurs together into a muddy blue mess as her eyes grow bleary.

“What’s wrong?” Kanaya asks, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and Jade doesn’t look at her but she can hear the concern in her voice.

What is wrong? How can she even begin to explain any of this to Kanaya? And would it even be okay to explain any of this to Kanaya?

She blinks and feels tears spill over and run down her cheeks, and she can only be grateful that they had opted to put her in minimal makeup. Something about the value of modesty that she had rolled her eyes at. She’s not rolling her eyes now. Instead she’s wiping at them hastily and sniffling sharply, and just so that she’s said anything at all, she asks, “What do you think of Dave?”

She never found the opportunity to ask why Kanaya had avoided him for so long. Standing up for him against Jane and Vriska’s scrutiny at dinner the other night had been the first time Jade heard her say anything positive about him, and even since then, she still hasn’t spoken directly to him at dinner. Jade doubts that it’s the usual prejudice against him simply for being Dersite, but that could just be wishful thinking on her part. She doesn’t want to believe that one of her best friends could believe those things, especially when they’re about to live there.

With the tears no longer pooling in her eyes, her eyesight is a little less blurry, and she sees Kanaya’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion or concern. She’s not sure which. Maybe both. After a long moment, though, she finally says, “I had my… hesitations about the arrangement. I didn’t like the idea that you would be forced to marry anyone, and when I first met him, I wasn’t exactly impressed. But… I have to admit that Dave is a good person, and I’m glad that he seems to make you happy. He does make you happy, right? You’re not having any second thoughts?”

“No,” she says, and it somehow manages to be halfway between a laugh and a sob. Kanaya pulls away from her to get a handkerchief, and Jade pushes her glasses up to let her dab at her eyes. After a shuddering inhale, she says, “He makes me very happy.”

“Alright… then, what is wrong?”

Jade swallows around the lump in her throat as she tries to gather her thoughts again. “I’m just… scared. It feels like I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Any of this! I can’t live up to any of the things everyone is expecting me to do.”

Kanaya takes one of her hands and gives it a firm squeeze, and after a second, Jade gives a feeble squeeze back. “I don’t know what things you think everyone is expecting you to do, Jade. Nobody has any idea what to expect about any of this. Your parents were the first international marriage in a very long time, and as far as I know, no Prospitian noble has ever married a Dersite or vice versa.” None of this exactly makes her feel better, and Kanaya must realize this, because she pulls Jade to sit on the nearby chaise and pulls her head into her lap. They can’t risk undoing all of the work that went into her hair, so Kanaya brushes her fingers over Jade’s eyes instead until her eyelids flutter shut and continues, voice soft, “This is your wedding day. The only thing that matters is that the two of you are happy together. Anyone with eyes can see that Dave is completely enamored with you, and you just said that he makes you happy, so forget about the rest of it. Just enjoy today, and we can figure out the rest of it as we go, alright? And I’ll be with you the whole time, so if you want to run away, just say the word.” Jade breathes a laugh, sniffling again. “Do you want to run away?”

Jade opens her mouth to answer, but before she can say anything, they’re interrupted by a knock at the door. “Are you ready to go?” John’s voice.

She and Kanaya make eye contact, and Jade manages a small smile. Kanaya nods, and Jade gets up and crosses the room to open the doors.

When John’s eyes land on her, he stares for a moment, eyes wide. The opportunities to see her dressed so nicely have been limited, and this is definitely the nicest dress they’ve ever stuffed her into. She imagines that it must be a little overwhelming for him. “Wow,” he practically breathes before holding his arm out for her. When she loops her arm through it, he leans down to murmur, “You look just like Mom.”

She wishes that people would stop telling her that, and it hurts even more knowing that their mother’s brother and sister are in the hall with everyone else waiting to catch their first glimpse of the bride. She’s never met them before, and she doubts they’ll exactly have time to talk before she’s swept away to Derse.

“I don’t think I’m quite as elegant as Mom always looked,” she says carefully. Of course, Jade only knows her face from paintings, which probably don’t provide as accurate a picture as she’d like to pretend, but how much can John possibly remember? He was only a toddler when Mom died, not even fully weaned yet.

“Jade, I’m serious. If I hadn’t seen the portrait of her and Dad in their wedding clothes a thousand times, I’d think I was looking at a ghost. The only difference is the dress. No one in that room is going to be able to take their eyes off of you.” As the doors to the grand hall where the ceremony is taking place comes into view, she hesitates. It’s not what he’s said, she knew that everyone was going to be staring at her, it’s just…

Suddenly, she throws her arms around John and squeezes him tight, and she feels him tense for just a second before he hugs her back awkwardly around the waist. “Are you okay?”

She wishes that people would stop asking her that. “I’m going to miss you,” she mumbles into his shoulder, and he squeezes her a little tighter. When she doesn’t have to look at his face, it’s easy to continue, “I’m scared… I’m scared of leaving home. I know that I spent my whole life wanting nothing more, but now that it’s happening, I just keep thinking of everything that I’m going to miss. I might never see you or Dad again, and that’s scary. Is that stupid?”

He pushes her away enough to look up at his face, blue eyes blazing as he says, “Yes. It’s extremely stupid.” Hurt slices through her before he continues, “You’re not getting away from me that easy, Jade. You think just because you’re going to Derse, we’re never going to see each other again? I’m the king, and there’s not a soul in Prospit or Derse who could keep me from seeing my little sister. You’re stuck with me. You and Dave.” She softens a little bit, and when he says it like that, it feels so silly to have worried in the first place.

“Then why were you so worried about me feeling isolated in Derse? You were so insistent in that meeting—”

“Because I know how isolated you are here, and I know how miserable it makes you.” His voice is soft, tinged with what she thinks must be guilt. “I wouldn’t care if you were going to Derse for a week. How could I send you there if you were going to be all alone and unhappy where I couldn’t even try to make it better?”

“John…”

“You’re my sister, Jade. And Dave is my brother—or, well, he’s about to be. Whatever. The point is, I’m never gonna leave either of you alone. Okay?” She nods a little bit, and he tugs her into another hug and squeezes her so tight it makes her ribs ache. She couldn’t be happier about it. “Now. Are you ready to go get married?” She nods again, and he presses a kiss against the top of her head before he loops his arm through hers again. “Then let’s go.”

When they finally take the first step into the room, her breath catches in her chest at the sight of the hundreds of people piled inside and the feeling of all of their eyes on her. There are even more than there were at John’s coronation. They’ve been cleared from the center of the room to form an aisle, all crammed together so she can only clearly see those people lining the edges of the crowd. One little girl reaches out as though to grab her, which makes Jade smile and a barely-contained laugh bubble up in her chest while her mother grabs her arm and pulls her in against her. The closer she gets to the front of the room, the nicer the clothing gets.

There are relatives she has never met in person in attendance. Her mother’s siblings stand next to each other close to the front of the room with expressions like… well, like they’ve seen a ghost. Her uncle looks so much like John, and she finds this startling because she’s always thought of her brother as a near-perfect doppelganger for Dad.

At the very front of the crowd stands a line of guards separating the rest of the guests from a row of chairs on either side of the aisle. On one side, Dave’s parents and sister sit. On the other, her father sits, and he doesn’t look quite so far away as he did yesterday. When they pass this point, John gives her arm a squeeze and then lets her go to take an empty seat next to Dad, and then she’s alone in front of the crowd—and in front of Dave.

He doesn’t immediately react to seeing her, and her heart sinks. He looks so far away, like someone threw his soul directly back to Derse and left his empty body here to shuffle through the wedding without any conscious awareness. Likewise, his body is stiff, his shoulders tense and back straight like someone’s stuffed a metal rod up the back of his jacket.

If she was especially naive, she might think that it was because of how aggressively Prospitian they’ve made him look. It’s Jade’s understanding that in Derse, the fashion tends toward darker colors—black, burgundy, and midnight purple. As such, the blue of Dave’s suit, with delicate golden embroidery on the lapels of his waistcoat that she can only see because of how close to him she’s standing and the slight sheen of velvet, doesn’t look right. It occurs to her she’s never seen him in real velvet before, only the cheaper and sturdier velveteen she’s used to associating with knights and not princes. It only adds to the overall effect: He looks like they’ve stuffed him into a costume. The only part of Dave that remains are his glasses.

She’s not especially naive, though. Her eyes slide over to his family, so close by, and she thinks back to everything he’d told her about them. His father’s face has that same blank look he’s worn nearly every other moment she’s seen him, like he couldn’t care less about where he is or what’s happening. His mother’s face is a little more complicated, like she’s trying to push through some fog. Jade wonders if she’s already drunk, even though it’s still only mid-morning and her only son is getting married. Rose is watching them intently, leaning in just a little bit rather than sitting with her back ramrod straight like Jade gathers she is supposed to.

“You may join hands,” the man next to them says, and it’s like Dave lags a second behind before he processes the statement and reaches out for her. When she takes his hands, she gives them a delicate squeeze, something comforting that she knows the rest of the crowd won’t be able to see. After a dragging second, he squeezes hers back, just barely.

The officiant is perhaps the only person in the room nearly as ornately dressed as she is. His cream-colored robe is so loose-fitting that it swallows any shape his body may have tried to give it, with sleeves that come down just above his wrist and then spill open into something almost like a bell sleeve, revealing a silky white garment layered underneath. They’re embroidered with simple braid-like patterns twining around each other from the shoulder all the way down to the wrist in golden thread, just barely darker than the fabric they’re sewn into. Near the center of his chest, there is a symbol much like a cloud embroidered with thread that is a shade of blue so light it’s nearly white, and he wears a tall hat in matching colors.

He looks ancient. He could be twice her father’s age easily, and it makes her wonder if this is the same priest who officiated her parents’ wedding—she might even be persuaded to believe he had officiated her grandparents’ wedding, though her paternal grandparents had both passed away before she was born, so this wouldn’t mean very much to her.

“A wedding marks the beginning of a new chapter in a young couple’s life,” he starts, and his voice has a throaty quality, low and deep and just a little bit rough with age. “As they stand in front of loved ones and speak their vows to one another, they unite their souls both here in Prospit and above the clouds. Their blue garments represent the sky in both light and darkness, as, too, shall their lives be. The golden goblets represent the prosperity, material and spiritual, that their union may be blessed with. The wine represents their blood, poured together to symbolize the mixing as one in a new family line they shall create together.”

Jade can’t help the way that her eyes slide over to the items in question. The goblets on the small table between them and the priest must be hundreds of years old. They’ve been in her family longer than anyone can remember. You wouldn’t guess it by looking at them, though; they’ve been polished so they shine as bright as the sun.

Until now, the priest has been looking at them, or at least had his head lowered to such a level that it seemed like he was looking at them. She guesses it would probably be harder to actually look at them both from so close, what with the way they’re standing. Now, though, he lifts his head, directly addressing the crowd.

“This wedding represents more than just the union of these two souls, however. This wedding represents a union between two noble houses, kept apart by politic. This wedding represents a union between two kingdoms, plagued for centuries by war. This wedding represents the coming of a blessed period of peace and light.”

Jade feels like her heart is hammering against her ribs, and she feels Dave’s grip on her tighten, but as her eyes slide over now to look at the crowd, she sees people nodding and smiling. She gives Dave a small smile and gives his hands another tiny squeeze. He doesn’t smile back, but she feels his grip relax a little. “As witnesses of this union, you express your support for the nation of Prospit and the nation of Derse, and of their royal houses, and of the bride and bridegroom, with your presence and your prayers. Let us all take a moment of silence to pray that the sun continues to shine on these two.”

Jade bows her head respectfully the way that she was always taught to growing up, but she stopped believing in all of the clouds nonsense years ago. It’s her own personal theory that it all started as a way for particularly clever Prospitians to get around prohibitions surrounding magic. Oracles and clergymen would claim to see visions in the clouds, to gain power to perform certain miracles from the sun, and once it was attributed to an external force—a religious one nonetheless—suddenly they were exempt from any consequences one might usually face for the use of magic. Maybe if she had been smarter as a child, she would have made the same claims.

Out of the corner of her half-lidded eyes, she can see that the Dersite royals keep their heads straight up, and she can only quietly hope it won’t cause any sort of incident.

“Now.” The priest lifts his head to look between the two of them. “The exchanging of vows.” Jade has read the traditional Prospitian vows a thousand times before. They appear in all sorts of works—historical texts, religious ones, fairy tales and stories of romance. She has had nursemaids and governesses coach her through them, and even the other residents of the castle have offered to recite them with her in the last few days before the wedding. Somehow, none of that prepared her for actually saying them.

Dave is asked to speak first, repeating after the priest for every sentence: “I, Prince David III,” and there is something so wrong about the use of his full name and title in this moment, “vow to protect my wife, Princess Jade, from any darkness or danger that may come her way. In shadow or in light, in rain or clouds or sunny skies, I vow to stay by her side. If the clouds above should bless us with children, I vow to protect them and their mother with my life, by pen or by sword. I vow to always treat her with kindness and respect, until death do us part.”

It’s the first time she detects any emotion in his voice, just the slightest warble at the end, and she could cry for the relief she feels. He’s still not doing anything with his face, still standing so rigid and petrified, but he’s here. He’s here with her.

The priest looks to her now, and she swallows hard. “I, Princess Jade, vow to support my husband, Prince David III, through any darkness or danger that may come his way. In shadow or in light, in rain or clouds or sunny skies, I vow to stay by his side. If the clouds above should bless us with children, I vow to nurture them with all of the warmth and light of the sun. I vow to always treat him with kindness and respect, until death do us part.”

When her parents were married, they shocked the nation of Prospit by kissing after their vows. It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone that a kingdom that worries about the corruption of magic worries about the moral corruptions of public displays of affection. Matters of intimacy are, somewhat ironically, shrouded in darkness in Prospit, restrained to stilted lectures on how to satisfy one’s future husband from nursemaids that ultimately amount to ‘lie down and wait for it to be over.’ She doesn’t even know what they must tell young men. But in Golgotha, the couple wrap each other up in their arms and kiss after their vows. It is meant to represent an embrace of each other’s lives, whatever struggles they may endure. An exchange of breath, to let their souls meet and combine into one. She had always admired the way her mother stubbornly stuck by her own traditions, and there’s a part of her that desperately wants to honor that part of her heritage.

With the oldest priest in Prospit (possibly the world) standing next to them and Dave dressed in the most aggressively Prospitian formalwear they could find, the weight of tradition bears down on her. It would be a scandal to kiss in front of all of these people, and their wedding is already scandalous enough on account of who the groom is. Plus, she doesn’t think she wants their first kiss to be in front of all these people.

So the priest holds both of his arms up, toward the rows where their families sit, and says, “The blood relatives may now step forward.”

She’s surprised when it’s Dad who stands up instead of John. Based on John’s face, he’s surprised, too. None of them say anything, though, as Dad joins them at the front of the room, standing right at the officiant’s side and beaming at her with pride. His blue eyes are shimmering, and her breath catches in her chest because it’s really him.

All three of Dave’s relatives exchange a look. No obvious emotions pass over their faces, but Jade is used to reading Dave enough by now that she thinks she can catch the microexpressions, and they make her heart sink somewhere to the pit of her stomach. His father is the hardest to read, naturally, but if she had to put a name to it, she’d say he seemed… annoyed. Like this entire Prospitian ceremony is so involved and he’d rather just be done with the whole thing. Like his son’s wedding is nothing but a waste of time. His mother and sister both look guilty, like the especially stoic expressions they’re wearing are compensating for their knowledge that they’re doing the wrong thing. They’re not going to come, she thinks, horrified, and she doesn’t know what they’re going to do because she doesn’t think this has ever happened before.

Then she sees Rose’s jaw harden, and she stands up, smoothing her skirt down with both hands. Both of their parents stare at her, their mother’s eyes widening a little bit while their father’s, in contrast, narrow into slits, the only indication that he’s noticed anything. Mirroring Dad, she steps up to the front of the room and stands at the priest’s opposite side, and Jade thinks she and Dave must lock eyes for a moment, his shoulders relaxing marginally.

The priest gives some speech as Dad and Rose pour two of the goblets of wine to full that Jade doesn’t listen to. Rose pours heavier than Dad does, and Jade doesn’t bother suppressing her amused smile. Once they’re filled and their relatives have each taken a step back, she looks back to Dave, and she gives his hands a last squeeze before she drops them. When he squeezes back, it’s much stronger than before.

They each pick up one of the golden goblets, and it’s a good thing that Jade’s isn’t as full as Dave’s is, because she can’t completely stop her hands from trembling. Slowly, she pours half of her wine into the two empty goblets on the table, then watches as Dave does the same. They pick up the new cups and twine their arms through each other, bringing them up to their lips.

It is bitter on her tongue. She has had wine before, and while she’s never been an especially big fan of it, she swears it was less acrid. This tastes like fruit that’s gone sour—which she supposes it is, but she thinks they could have done something to mask it, surely. It takes an effort to gulp it all down without pulling the cup away from her lips.

Once they’re emptied, they place them both back on the table and turn to their relatives. She’s not sure if Dave studied the wedding traditions or if he just understands this part intuitively. She hugs her father for what she is extremely aware may be the last time in her life, and he squeezes his arms tight around her. With the way she has her head turned, cheek squished against his chest, she can see Dave hugging Rose, and although it’s blurry through the tears beading up in her eyes, she’s pretty sure she sees him murmuring something in her ear. She feels Dad drop a kiss against the top of her head, and she lets out a shaky breath.

When she’s pulled away and had a last moment of proud, hopeful, grieving eye contact with her father, Dave offers her his arm and she threads hers through it, squeezing herself against his side. For the first couple of steps, it all feels so easy, until they pass by that first row of guests. His parents. Against her, Dave tenses, and his movements become almost mechanical. He stares straight ahead like if he makes eye contact with anyone, he’ll crumble into dust.

With one hand, she makes an effort to smile and wave at the right people as they pass, and with the other, she gives his arm another careful squeeze. Another check-in. If he notices, he doesn’t do anything to respond to it, until they’re out in the hall and he breaks away from her. She stares at him as he retreats, torn between running away to hide in her room and chasing after him.

She wishes she had kissed him.

END OF ACT 1

#Darla writes #Homestuck #Jade Harley #Dave Strider #DaveJade #John Egbert #Rose Lalonde #Karkat Vantas #Kanaya Maryam #Dad Egbert #Kingdomstuck #Fantasy #Arranged Marriage #Slow Burn #lavender moon #This chapter was cross-posted late because I was having a LITTLE BIT of a menty b #Sorry it will happen again

5 notes · View notes

holly-mckenzie · 2 years ago

Text

After you left, I looked and I found reports from the provincial courts about mothers losing children. Yeah. This thing that happened to you and to your family... This is disgusting. When I first met you, you were all dressed up in a nice dress, but you didn't smile. And I thought, "She has lost everyone... I have lost everyone, this is a good match." It wasn't true. You had a family. So, now you need to make decisions for yourself. You need to choose what you want. What do you mean? I mean, this is your life. You choose.

LITTLE BIRD (2023) ｜ Episode Six directed by Zoe Leigh Hopkins

33 notes · View notes

dreaming-of-texel · 2 months ago

Text

Little Bird (2023)

#Little Bird #TV Series #canada #canadian #darla contois #lisa edelstein #braeden clarke #ellyn jade

3 notes · View notes

jasminejarss · 1 year ago

Text

Little Bird: 1.01 (2023) dir. Zoe Leigh Hopkins & Elle-Máijá Tailfeathers

19 notes · View notes

gible-love-nibles-archive · 2 years ago

Text

Girls' night, aka my main Toons! I really need to solidify the other two's designs and decide all of their outfits, but I like these headshots for now

(Please reblog! I like reading tags :] )

#🐉🎮.txt #clare's art #oc: ginger honeyjinks #oc: jade razzlesnout #oc: darla petaltail #toon tag #toonblr #the sillies :]

7 notes · View notes

movienized-com · 10 months ago

Text

Little Bird

Little Bird (Mini-Serie 2023) #JanetKidder #AlannaBale #EllynJade #DarlaContois #KerisHopeHill #OsawaMuskwa Mehr auf:

Mini-SerieJahr: 2023 Genre: Drama Hauptrollen: Janet Kidder, Alanna Bale, Ellyn Jade, Darla Contois, Keris Hope Hill, Osawa Muskwa, Darren Ross, Gideon Starr, Lisa Edelstein, Eric Schweig, Kristian Jordan, Michelle Thrush, Rowen Kahn, Tayton Mianskum, Charlotte Cutler … Serienbeschreibung: Die Miniserie mit sechs Episoden folgt einer indigenen Frau auf ihrer Reise, ihre Familie zu finden und…

View On WordPress

#Alanna Bale #Darla Contois #Ellyn Jade #Janet Kidder

1 note · View note

gucciwins · 9 months ago

Text

harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned

word count: 5896

a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜

Y/N was nervous.

She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment.

Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through.

As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop.

“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke.

It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area.

“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.”

“I said it’s okay.”

Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.”

It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough.

Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.

“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”

“Course. Guard it with my life.”

Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop.

“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head.

The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day.

Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time.

“Excuse me, sir?”

He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?”

“How do I know you?”

The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him.

“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”

Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”

The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.”

That’s odd, Y/N thought.

“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time.

“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.”

Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t.

“Can I walk you out?” He asks.

She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move.

“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit.

“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters.

Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact.

Harry S.

It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say.

Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?”

Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.”

“Oh.”

Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number.

“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.

“Hopefully for us to plan a date.”

“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened.

“I’d like to see where it could go.”

“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”

Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?”

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him.

“Good. Thursday it is.”

Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life.

Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.

Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him.

“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.

Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed.

Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong.

Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N.

“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N.

In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.”

Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.”

“Anne,” Y/N repeated.

“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie.

Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined.

Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.

Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.

“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story.

Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.”

“Your face didn’t change.”

Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.”

Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.”

Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”

“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.

Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.”

“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.”

Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem.

“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.

Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister.

Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home.

“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.

Harry sighs, “never been happier.”

Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.”

Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.”

She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”

Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”

“It’s clear she’s after something.”

He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”

“Your money.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled.

“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.”

“How would you know?”

“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.”

“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”

“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”

Harry’s anger is overwhelming him.

“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.

“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs.

He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.”

Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset.

“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.”

Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”

Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.

She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed.

Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.”

“It’s only my sister,” he defends.

“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.”

Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”

“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.”

“It is when she needs a wack to her head.”

“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”

Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”

Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her.

Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.

“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”

“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out.

He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful.

Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But Gemma–”

He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”

Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset.

“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”

Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.

“I love you, Harry.”

He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.”

Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.

The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect.

There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word.

“My daughter owes you an apology.”

“Anne–”

She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.”

Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.”

Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside.

Harry greeted her with a kiss.

Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it.

Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle.

Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug.

“Hi,” Y/N greeted.

“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked.

Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.”

“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.

“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.”

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.”

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.”

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“Morning, pretty girl.”

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.”

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“Morning, pretty girl.”

“Hi, Harry. I love you.”

Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.”

“And did it?”

“Mmm…like magic.”

“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions.

“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.”

Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“But she’s your–”

“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”

Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, my love. So much more.”

Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.

thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles story #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst story #harry styles fic rec #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

598 notes · View notes

gnomewithalaptop · 2 months ago

Text

Batfam Time Travel Fic Recs

Because @clarenceislazy requested it on my last fic rec compilation, here's a list of my favorite DCU time travel fics! They're all pretty Batfam-centric, but eh niche is niche what can you do

Damian fics:

A Good Place by LemonadeGarden - Damian gets sent back in time to a Batman who's never had a Robin. Very sweet, very fun.

The Rule Stands by Engineerd - After Dick's death, Damian has to deal with a time-displaced ten-year-old Dick Grayson. Love a good Dick and Damian bonding moment, PLUS this gets a happy ending <3

to stay in one place by Jezebunny - Injustice!Universe Nightwing!Damian time-travels/dimension-jumps to a timeline where Dick Grayson is still alive and his counterpart is still Robin. Ugh this is so angsty -- I have an unreasonable amount of love for Injustice Damian

looking for the shapes in the silence by popsunner - In a world where Dick died on the job, Damian falls through a hole in reality where Dick is still alive and finds that some things don't fit the way they used to. SUCH an amazing representation of complex grief -- literally every time I read it, I cry

Steph fics:

time slip by almondrose - A mistake in time leads to six Robins meeting. Honestly, this one is kinda cracky, and only barely qualifies as Steph-centric, but I still like it a lot

and we'll never be the same by almondrose - Steph and Tim go on a road trip to figure out the post-universal-reboot anomalies. This is more of a post timey-wimey-bullshit fic than a real time travel fic, BUT I think it's real cute regardless

Tim fics:

Tractors by lieu42 - Ooh this one is honestly so so fun! In a reimagined universe where DC's heroes operate out of the UK, Red Robin Tim finds himself right back in the year before everything went to hell. He has a duty to get back to his correct timeline so he can find Bruce, but with Bart and Kon still alive, there's a part of him that doesn't want to leave. Literally SO well written and trippy as hell -- this fic deals a lot with addiction, drug use, and grief, so definitely go into it forewarned. TimKon

not for very much longer by CreamOfTomatoSoup - ugh what CAN'T I say about this fic, apart from the fact that it's one of my favorite time loop fics of all time. Post Cult of Dionysus Bernard Dowd finds himself reliving the worst day of his life -- the day Darla got shot. Featuring identity porn, Steph as Robin, Original-Personality!Bernard, the grief of a childhood you can never return to, and the weirdness of having to interact with your significant other when he's currently a sixteen year old who doesn't know he likes dudes. Don't look at the incomplete warning -- it's not abandoned, just a wip, and I legitimately cannot recommend this fic enough. This fic made me read War Games. This fic made me a Darla Aquista stan. This fic made me ship timbern. Please read this fic.

Jason fics:

The View From Jade by lowflyingfruit - Jason Todd accidentally travels back to before Bruce took Dick in. I feel like this is on every time travel rec list, but what can I say: I'm a basic bitch

Two Dead Birds by InsaneTrollLogic - Jason Todd wakes up in the middle of his Mob Boss Era and immediately decides to rewrite his own history. This is very funky fresh of him, just in my personal opinion.

Dick fics:

So It Goes by 60sec400 - Bruce from Dick's Robin era receives a troubling call from Nightwing. Be warned -- this fic is angsty as hell. Implied major character death. Don't look at the incomplete warning -- it's a lie (the author has specified they intended it to work as a oneshot)

In This Or Any Other Universe by wildsofmarch - Dick-as-Batman ends up in Battinson-era Gotham. Again, I think this counts more towards the Dimension Travel pile than the strict Time Travel variety, but I'm still putting it here because I enjoy the hell out of it

a million dreams by CaptainOzone - In the seconds between the trapeze line snapping and their bodies hitting the ground, John and Mary Grayson find themselves transported twenty years into the future. SO GOOD I honestly can't stand it.

If you think I missed a fic you love (or if you've written any yourself and want to self-plug), feel free to drop a link in the reblogs! Especially if you know of any that center around Steph, Cass, or Duke -- istg I've scrolled through fifteen pages of the AO3 Time Travel tag, and I've found like maybe two fics that center around any of them. It's honestly a little ridiculous

122 notes · View notes

noh07 · 2 months ago

Text

updated list of mixed name ideas (nov 5, 2024)

in this list, there's any type of names (mostly for english-speaking people though): typical first names, noun names, mythology names, etc.

i sorted them into three categories: androgynous, feminine and masculine.

if you have more ideas of names for trans folks, writers, etc, just lemme know! (Can also be not-so-cool names for the writers, we need them for the asshole side characters :3)

i will update the list every time I have a lot of new name suggestions. you can always find the newest list under the tag #updated name list on my profile, which is currently this one.

(alphabetical list with 712 mixed names under the cut)

--- androgynous ---

Addie/Eddie

Aki

Alex

Alexis

Alli/Allie/Ally

Am/Em

Amethyst

Ares

Ari

Artemis

Ash

Asher

Aster

Azure

Basil

Beluga

Bennie/Benny

Bermuda

Bev

Beverly

Billie

Blair/Blaire

Calypso

Caramel

Cat

Cave

Celeste

Charlie

Chrissy

Coco

Crimson

Crow

Diamond

Edie

Eli

Ellori/Ellory

Emerald

Emerson

Emi/Emmie/Emmy

Evie

Finn

Forest/Forrest

Frances/Francis

Garnet

Gem

Goldie

Gray/Grey

Hayden

Hunter

Indigo

Jackie/Jacky

Jade

Jamie

Jess

Jessie

Jupiter

Lark

Lenny

Lori/Lorie/Lory

Lou

Louie

Mag

Maggot

Mars

Mauve

Max

Meadow

Mercury

Mika

Miko

Mizu

Moss

Neptune

Noah

Nori

Nyx

Ollie

Onyx

Opal

Paris

Quinn

Rafa

Rain/Raine

Raven

Reg

Remi

Remu

Robin

Rocky

Ronni/Ronnie/Ronny

Sage

Saturn

Shilo/Shiloh

Silver/Sylver

Sky/Skye

Snow

Val

Venus

Vin

Vinny/Vinnie

Wilson

Wither

--- feminine ---

Abby

Abigail

Adelaide

Adeline

Agatha

Aileen/Eileen

Aimee/Amy

Alana

Alena

Alessia

Alexa

Alexia

Alexandra

Alice

Alissa

Alli/Allie/Ally

Alura

Amalia

Amber

Amelia

Amelie

Amethyst

Amity

Andromeda

Anela

Angela

Angelina

Angeline

Angie

Anika/Annika

Anisa

Anita

Anna

Ann/Anne

Annie

Anastasia

Andrea/Andreea

Antheia

Arabella

Artemis

Ashley

Astra

Atlanta

Audrey

Aurora

Autumn

Azura

Bailey

Becky

Bella

Belle

Beluga

Bettie/Betty

Beverly

Billie

Brenda

Brie

Calypso

Candace/Candice

Caramel

Carla/Karla

Carmen

Carol

Carolina

Caroline

Catherine

Celeste

Celestia

Celina/Selena/Selina

Celine/Selene/Seline

Charlotte

Christina/Kristina

Christine/Kristine

Claire

Clara/Clarah

Chloe/Chloé/Cloe

Cindy

Cissy

Cora/Corah

Dana

Daniela/Daniella

Danielle

Dalia/Daliah

Daria

Darla

Debbie

Debora/Deborah

Delilah

Diamond

Diana

Dianne

Dora/Dorah

Dorothy

Eburia

Eclipse

Eda

Elena

Eleanor/Elenor

Elisa/Eliza

Elise

Elizabeth

Ella

Ember

Emerson

Emery

Emi/Emmie/Emmy

Emilia

Emilie/Emily

Emma

Esme

Esmeralda

Euphemia

Euphoria

Eva

Evie

Evelyn

Felicia

Fenya

Finya

Fia

Fiona

Francisca/Franziska

Freya

Fuchsia

Gaia

Georgia

Gina

Ginny/Jeanie

Hanna/Hannah

Harmony

Hazel

Heather

Hecate

Helena

Helene

Hera

Hestia

Holly

Hope

Iana

Irena

Irene

Iris

Isa

Isabel/Isabelle

Isabela/Isabella

Ivonne/Yvonne

Ivory

Ivy

Izzy

Jade

Janice

Jasmin/Jasmine

Jenna

Jennifer

Jenny

Joelle

Joelina

Jolene

Julia

Julianne

Julie

Juliet/Juliette

Juniper

Kaia/Kaya

Katarina/Katharina

Kathy/Katy

Kelly

Kira

Lana

Lara/Larah

Laura

Lauren

Laurel

Lavender

Lena

Leia/Leya

Levina

Levinia

Lia

Liana

Liara

Lilac

Lili/Lilli/Lilly/Lily

Lilian/Lilien

Lilith

Lisa

Liv

Livi

Livia

Liz

Lizzie/Lizzy

Loanne

Lola

Lorelei

Lori/Lorie/Lory

Louisa/Luisa

Louise/Luise

Luce/Luz

Lucy

Luna

Lydia

Maggie/Meggie

Meg

Madeline

Maira/Myra

Mara/Marah

Margaret

Marge

Marla

Marlene

Maria/Mariah

Marie/Mary

Marina

Mauve

Melanie

Melissa

Mellie/Melly

Meryem

Mia

Michelle

Milly

Mina

Minerva

Minnie

Miriam

Mona

Monica

Naira/Nyra

Nancy

Natalia

Natalie

Natasha

Nellie/Nelly

Nessie

Nina

Noelle

Nora/Norah

Nori

Nyx

Oliv/Olive

Olivia

Ollie

Paris

Pascale

Patricia

Paula

Peggy

Penelope/Pinelopy

Penny

Petunia

Philippa

Pia

Pippa

Polly

Poppy

Queenie

Ramona

Rania

Rebecka

Regina

Robin

Rose

Roxana

Roxanne

Ruby

Safira/Saphira

Sandra

Sara/Sarah

Sari

Serena

Silvia/Sylvia

Sofia/Sophia

Sofie/Sophie

Stella

Stephanie/Stephany

Tara/Tarah

Tatiana/Tatyana

Tess

Tessa

Tia

Tiana

Tina

Valerie/Valery

Vanessa

Vela

Venus

Vera

Veronica

Victoria

Viola

Violet/Violette

Viona

Vivian

Viviana

Willow

Xandria

Xenia

Yana

Yasmin/Yasmine

Zehra

Zoe/Zoé/Zoey

--- masculine ---

Achilles

Aiden

Aion

Alex

Alexander

Amon

Angelo

Angelino

Anthony

Anton

Arcturus

Ares

Asher

Audrey

Ben

Benjamin

Bennie/Benny

Benson

Bill

Billie/Billy

Bob

Bobby

Brendan/Brendon

Brian

Bruno

Calvin

Carl/Karl

Chad

Charles

Charlie

Chase

Chester

Chris

Chrissy

Christopher

Conan

Damian

Dan

Daniel

Dave

David

Davon/Devon

Dionysos

Don

Donald

Dorian

Dylan

Elia/Elijah

Elio

Eliot/Elliot/Elliott

Emerson

Emilio

Erion

Evan

Felix

Fred

Freddie/Freddy

Gian/Jan

Gus

Hannibal

Harald/Harold/Herald/Herold

Harry

Hendrick/Henrick

Henry

Hunter

Ian

Icarus

Jace

Jade

Jack

Jackie/Jacky

Jaden/Jayden

James

Jamie

Jasper

Jay

Jeremy

Jerry

Jimmy

Joe

Joel

Joey

John

Johnny

Jona/Jonah

Jonas

Jones

Julian/Julien

Julius

Jupiter

Justin

Kevin

Lance

Larry

Laurence/Lawrence

Lee

Lenny

Leo

Linus

Logan

Lori/Lorie/Lory

Louis/Luis

Louie

Lucc/Luke

Lucas/Lukas

Luigi

Marc

Marco

Mario

Mars

Max

Mercury

Michael

Mickey

Mike

Milo

Nathan

Neptune

Nick

Nico/Niko/Nikko

Noah

Noel

Oliver

Ollie

Orion

Paris

Pascal

Patrick

Paul

Pete

Peter

Philip/Philipp/Phillip

Ray

Raymond

Reg

Reginald

Regulus

Remi

Remus

Rick

Ricky

Rob

Robbie/Robby

Robin

Ron

Ronald

Ronni/Ronnie/Ronny

Rubeus

Sam

Sammy

Samuel

Saturn

Sean/Shaun/Shawn

Sebastian

Simon

Sirius

Stephan

Steve

Steven

Theodore

Thomas

Tim

Timmy

Toby

Tom

Tommy

Tony

Valentine

Victor

Vince

Vincent

Wilson

Yan

Zach/Zack

Zeus

If you want me to add meanings, origins, etc., just tell me ^^

20 notes · View notes

grimmbitty · 7 months ago

Text

Trying to re-work my Shazam character designs. Obi first up is Billy.

I didn’t want to modify them too much because I like what I’ve done so far. However, I really wanna try and them them all model sheets, so that requires a lot more focus and intention with my lineart than I’m used to lol,,,

I was also inspired to work on this today specifically because I read the new chapter. At first I thought it was gonna be the same, “Billy’s long-lost parent ruins Vasquez family adoption” plot line that the new52 had, but I was pleasantly surprised. I can’t tell which run I like better so far because like,,, I’m really confused on why Billy & the Captain are 2 different people??? I have a hard time following that part. But, I enjoy the characterization a LOT more in this one. In the new 52 Billy is a little too much of an asshole imo. 💀

Like, I think in this new Dawn of DC version of Billy would have never yelled at Darla, and wouldn’t have picked random fights with Mary. Unlike his 2013-2019 counterpart lol. I really DO like characters who are a bit jaded & a little snarky though. I guess it’s a fine line that writers have to try and not cross.

Anyways that was my little ramble. If you would like to discuss the new run with me, or maybe let me know which version of Billy you prefer both my DMs & comments are open, as always. :)

Enjoy! ~ ⚡️❤️

#captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett comics #shazam #shazam 2019 #dc comics #billy batson #shazam:cobl #digital art #digital illustration

25 notes · View notes

chronicangel · 22 days ago

Text

lavender moon: Act 1 Chapter 4

Link to this fic on AO3. Words: 4038 Date posted: December 17, 2024 Summary:

Oops, I forgot to cross-post yesterday. Although I've been thinking about delaying cross-posting to Wednesdays anyway?

As the weeks stretch into months, Dave settles more into the castle, and the fondness its occupants have for him only grows. She’s caught him and John walking the halls together and chatting late in the evening after dinner more than once. She’s not sure she’s ever seen her brother bond with anyone like this. She allows herself to imagine what their lives would be like if instead of going to Derse after they were married, they simply stayed here. Maybe he could convince John to let her see Prospit as a whole under his protection.

It’s a pipe dream, though. The longer Dave is here, the more evident it is that they’re going to be leaving soon. He pushes to see her less and less, spending more and more time with the knights and soldiers that live on the castle grounds for training. Derse’s soldiers have magic to rely on, which she imagines must require stricter training regimens. Combine that with the fact that the majority of Prospit’s military is housed in Skaia, the capital city, half a country away where Dave does not have access to them, and it’s clear that Dave isn’t only trying to train them to his standards, but trying to get them to a level where they can train others to his standards. She supposes this in and of itself must be a compromise, staying here with her rather than riding off to Skaia to broaden his impact.

She is in the gardens with Kanaya, her fingers buried once more in the dirt, pulling the latest summer weeds away from the plants they cling to the most stubbornly. She grows several plants that serve as natural pesticides, so they don’t deal with the grubs and other insects that her books talk about watching for signs of, but she hasn’t yet found any way to keep the plants trying to encroach on her garden’s abundant space and resources away. It’s frustrating because it eats up the time that she could be spending poring over medical textbooks to find what’s ailing her father. The physicians have been visiting less frequently since Dave has been staying with them, most likely part of the conspiracy to conceal the illness from him, but it means that she has even less information to work with than she already did.

She wipes at sweat starting to bead on her forehead and feels dirt smudge from her fingers to her skin. It’s the peak of summer now, and though it’s not as hot this far north as it is in the rest of the country, Prospit’s climate borders on subtropical. There’s a dampness in the air that practically clings to her skin, only wicked away by the cool fabric of her preferred gardening clothes. With Dave staying in the castle, she’s been stuffed into nicer dresses most days, but those dresses are hot. The outfit that she wears now is simple, leaving her in only three layers counting her chemise, all of them made of breezier cotton and linen fabrics that give her skin more room to breathe and cool off. She thinks again that anyone who looked at her like this would be forgiven for not immediately recognizing her as the princess.

A shout echoes off the stone walls of the castle, less words and more like a loud grunt of pain. Jade can’t help but look up, and she notices Kanaya pause where she’s standing a few feet away watering big, bright flowers to look toward the noise, too. There’s another sound, like two objects clanking together, and then the quiet, serene atmosphere of the garden is gone, occupied instead with yells, grunts, and clacking. She supposes the knights must have started training for the day, most likely on the grounds past the little stone wall surrounding the garden. “What do you suppose it is they do all day?” she asks, and Kanaya shrugs.

“Training, I guess,” she says eventually, and Jade can’t help but roll her eyes. Yes, obviously they’re training, but training what? What could they possibly need to drill day in and day out when they’re supposed to be ending the war?

Jade shores up her resolve and straightens, wiping her hands on her skirt. It’s brown anyway, so she doesn’t think the dirt smudges show as much on this compared to her green ones. “I’m going to go see what they’re up to,” she declares, and Kanaya watches her for a moment like she’s debating whether or not she should intervene before she shrugs again and returns to watering the plants. Kanaya is nosy at the best of times, but Jade guesses that her avoidance of Dave, which has outlasted any of the castle’s other occupants, must outweigh that. She makes a mental note to ask her about it later.

The air inside of the castle as she walks through the corridors to get to the other side of the grounds is cool, and by the time she gets back outside, she doesn’t feel hot at all anymore. It’s inconvenient, because she would love an excuse for the flush to her cheeks as she finds a dozen soldiers all divided into pairs, shirtless in the broad daylight and covered in sweat as they seem to spar with each other with wooden swords like children might use.

Her eyes scan over the crowd, knights, squires, and pages, until they land on Dave sparring with Karkat. His body is covered in scars of varying sizes and colors alongside some fresh bruises on his chest and arms. His skin is glistening with sweat, but more than that, he’s so pale that he almost seems to be glowing under the Prospitian sun. Jade can see a tinge of red on his shoulders and back that paints a clear picture of him out here like this for hours each day. The thought brings a flush to her cheeks, but she can’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from him, transfixed by the serious expression on his face. She sees what the servants were saying about the complete shift in personality.

“Sir, I’d like to request a break,” one of the pages says. She recognizes him as Tavros Nitram, the newest recruit sponsored by the Serket family.

“Do you think there are going to be breaks at war, Nitram?” Dave says, not necessarily scolding but certainly stern. “It hasn’t even been an hour yet. Remember, next week we’re doing all of this in armor.”

Karkat seems to spot her at this point, and he gestures to catch Dave’s attention before nodding in her direction. Dave looks at her, and he doesn’t smile at her, but she swears she can see some sort of softening in his features. She holds her head up high to mask her embarrassment at the whole scene as she approaches them, and it has the side benefit of meaning she isn’t completely eye level with his chest when she finally reaches him. “You’re very impressive. It seems that Sir Vantas got a few hits on you, though,” she says, and she grins at the face Karkat makes at the formal title.

He’d been brought to the castle when they were both children, and Kanaya’s mother advocated for him to be a page. She had spun some story about finding him at the border of Beforus, which was under revolution at the time. He couldn’t have been older than five or six. Jade wasn’t supposed to be listening in, but her grandfather, who usually occupied her time, had only died a few months before. Her father didn’t seem keen on letting such a small child train to join the military, and Jade, desperate for a friend, had burst into the room to advocate for him. With an amused smile, the king said that someone should really keep a better eye on her, and Karkat was assigned as her personal guard and attendant. He worked diligently to rise through the ranks and become a proper knight, and as much as it hurt to watch someone so important to her grow so far away as he became more important, she can’t help but support him anyway. The only thing he’s ever wanted to be was a leader. He’s pointedly clung to his role since the day he got it, all but forcing everyone to call him by his proper title—everyone except for Jade.

She wonders what the story behind Dave’s knighthood is. She knows that it is common for princes to fight alongside their armies, to train with the knights and the soldiers so they can ride into battle, but she doesn’t think it is necessarily common practice for them to truly become knights. Was this his consolation prize for being removed from the line of succession, or is this simply the only use his family could find for him? Distaste swirls in her gut.

“He’s a good soldier,” Dave replies, snapping her out of her thoughts. Karkat scowls for reasons Jade can’t possibly determine and walks away from the both of them. He joins the rest of the knights with a sword still in hand, apparently ready to start another spar.

“One of the best. He’s been my personal guard for as long as I can remember. I’m going to miss him when we leave. I wish we could bring him.”

Dave’s lips quirk at the corner, which makes her heart flutter nearly as much as his bare chest did. He is never very expressive, which means that her eyes catch on every small change to his face. He only ever seems to smile like this, as much as it can be called a smile, for her. “Vantas is a good soldier,” he repeats, and his voice almost sounds like he’s bargaining. “I’m sure he would be a strong addition to Derse’s army. I’ll make a case for him to come with us.”

It strikes her suddenly how much she would like to kiss him. She even finds herself staring at his mouth for a moment before she internally berates herself for it and almost misses when he half-turns to face the rest of the soldiers and holds his wooden sword up. Everyone drops their swords to their sides obediently and turns to look at him for orders, and her cheeks flush again. He commands so much respect.

“Nitram, you’ve got your break,” he says. “Everyone go cool off. Drink some water, get out of the sun. Be back here in ten minutes.” As the knights shuffle inside, he turns back to her, taking her hands in his and sending her heart into her throat. She should have washed them. He doesn’t seem to notice the dirt. “I don’t have much time to talk. Was there something that you needed?”

She doesn’t want to admit that she had just missed him and gotten curious about what he was doing. Instead, she says, “Kanaya and I were in the gardens when we heard the training start up. I figure if I’m going to be married to the commander of an army then I should know what it is he gets up to all day.”

He chuckles and brings one of his hands up to rub his thumb against the dirt smudge on her forehead, just like he had weeks ago. “I see that.” Her cheeks flush.

“Will you have time this evening?” she asks before she can stop herself. “If you’re not exhausted from training,” she adds, trying to offer him an out.

He seems to consider this for a moment, and then pulls his hands back to himself, one coming up to rub against the back of his neck. “I could probably end training a little early to see you before dinner. I’ll need to wash up first, so we might not have very long. Could I meet you in the gardens around sunset?”

The thought of Dave bathing makes her cheeks flush and she can only hope that the tinge doesn’t show enough through her brown skin for him to see it. Thoughts of bare skin and dirty water flash through her mind before she can banish them. She nods rather than answering him verbally, and after only a moment of hesitation, practically peels herself away from him.

Kanaya has finished up everything in the gardens before she gets back, so Jade takes the opportunity to sink into her own bath and scrub the dirt and sweat off of her skin and out of her hair. She doesn’t ask the servants to help her with this, though it increases the amount of time she has to spend washing her hair at least threefold. Flower petals drift along the surface of the bath water as she lathers soap infused with lavender and sage from her garden into her scalp. It takes two hours to fully lather soap into all of her curls, carefully wash it out, and brush them until they’re neatly separated with no tangles in sight, and another for them to dry.

She spends the rest of the hours before Dave will be free in the library, devouring one of the medical textbooks they had acquired in the village. The section she’s in is about pregnancy, and she cannot help but think of the future of their marriage. What will they do if their child is a mage? She wonders if she should tell Dave. She knows that he does not carry the same prejudices that the people she’s been surrounded by her whole life do, but the idea of anyone finding out has such an ingrained panic response conditioned into her that even considering telling him makes her stomach twist into knots. She turns past the chapter into the next section, which is about cancers.

When the peek of sky visible through the windows is more orange than blue, she strolls out to the gardens to find Dave already sitting there. He’s dressed in casual clothes rather than the formal attire or armor she’s used to seeing him wearing around the castle, and his hair is still dripping wet. She wants to reach out and touch it, but keeps her fingers firmly locked together in front of her, instead just smiling warmly to greet him. “Good evening, princess,” he says, and there’s that familiar twist in the pit of her stomach again.

“You can call me Jade.” She tries not to sound too hopeful, and he seems taken aback for a moment before he smiles and offers her his arm. She laces hers through it and follows him as he starts to lead her through her own gardens. He smells like soap, without any of the fancy infusions hers has.

“In a month we’ll be married. I’ve been thinking about it,” he says suddenly, and her heart lurches in her chest as she’s struck by anxiety that he’s going to tell her that he’s decided to call the whole thing off. He seems to sense her swelling panic, because he stops them and turns to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Relax.” She lets out a breath. “I’ve enjoyed what little time we’ve been able to spend together,” he starts, and she ignores the little thrill that runs through her before he adds, “I won’t be able to spend so much time with you when we’re living in Derse.”

This makes logical sense to her. Even the past couple of weeks she’s barely seen him, and he’s not even responsible for the Prospitian army. There are perhaps a dozen men answering to him here, and if he trains a small group that he holds so little responsibility for so strictly, it must be even worse at home. She should be thrilled. She’ll have more time to devote to her studies, won’t have a husband pressuring her for children. So why does it feel like such a heavy weight has just been placed around her neck?

“My father sends me away often,” he says, and he tilts his head up to look at something in the space above her head. Maybe he’s just trying not to look at her. She furrows her brows as he continues, “There’s nearly always some sort of conflict somewhere, and sending in the army either sends the message to de-escalate or stops the situation before it has the chance to evolve into a problem.”

Her mind is spinning at this information. She’s familiar with Derse’s military demonstrations at the border, but she’d figured it was a part of their extended conflict. With the war between Prospit and Derse coming to an end with their marriage, won’t he have more free time than ever? She asks him as much, and the smile he sends her is different from his usual smiles. It makes something cold ball up in the pit of her stomach.

“Prospit is hardly Derse’s only enemy,” he says. Then, with a speculative tone, he adds, “If anything, my father might view this as an opportunity to move the soldiers stationed at the border to make moves against some of our other enemies.” Her chest tightens, and it’s not helped by him bringing a hand up to cup her cheek, a touch she can’t stop herself from leaning into. “I’m rarely home at the palace. I just don’t want you to be lonely.”

“I’m used to it,” she dismisses immediately. She sees his eyebrows knit together and explains, “My father and John think they can lock me in a tower like a damsel in a fairytale and keep me safe from all harm.”

“I’ve noticed that,” he says, and she tries to ignore the bitter feeling that rises up in her gut. Her father and brother have spent her entire life treating her like a damsel in distress, and now they’re going to corrupt the one person who can finally get her away from that pressure. “Why do they think you need so much protecting in the first place?”

She hesitates a moment and pulls away from him, turning to look at a nearby bush of white roses so she doesn’t have to look at him. “Our mother got sick when she was pregnant with me. They thought it was just a difficult pregnancy, but she was so small, and then I was born so early and mother…” she trails off, shuddering, as she thinks about it. As much as Grandpa always assured her it wasn’t her fault, she can’t help but blame herself for her mother’s death. “The isolation started as a matter of safety. I was small and sickly. I struggled to breathe. If I was ever exposed to anyone who had even been near someone who was sick, I’d catch something, and then I’d be stuck in bed for weeks. I almost died several times. I suppose that they just didn’t trust it when I finally started to get better.”

She can feel herself shaking. The air in the garden has cooled off since high noon when she’d first been outside, but it’s still warm and damp. The temperature is no excuse. “You seem cold,” Dave says anyway, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we go inside?”

She nods wordlessly, and when she grabs one of his hands, he doesn’t make any move to pull away from her. She wants to retreat to her bedroom and hide in there for the rest of the night until all of the guilt and shame and bitterness goes away. It would be improper to bring him there with her, though, and she doesn’t want to leave his side yet. She leads him to the library instead, the large wing being perhaps as far away from anyone else in the castle as she can get sans the privacy of her bedroom. They sit on a long couch at the back of the room, leaving an empty seat between them.

They’re silent for a long time, and her mind races as she tries to think of something to say, something that she can ask him so he’ll just talk to her.

“My mother is still alive, but sometimes it feels like a part of her has died, in a way,” he confesses somewhat abruptly before she comes up with anything, and she stares at him. “Our parents weren’t especially close even when Rose and I were kids. It always kinda seemed like they were… friends, maybe? But they just kept growing apart. He barely even looks at her anymore, and she just drinks and wanders mindlessly around the halls in the palace.”

She moves a hand to rest on his knee while she tries to think of something to say, and he gives her a sad smile. Maybe mother-related trauma isn’t the most appropriate thing for them to bond over, but she hates the thought that he might feel how she feels about her mother for even a moment when his is still alive. She hates that his family seems so cold. The way that his father had looked at him during that meeting made her want to run away and hide, and she can’t imagine how it must have felt for him. She wants to kiss him again.

“I’m sure that she must love you very much.” She had hoped it would be comforting, but his face visibly tightens. Swallowing, she tears her eyes away from him and stares at the portrait of her mother hanging over the doors. “I think she must hate me, wherever she is.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she thinks she sees his eyes widen a bit. Then his face settles back into something more neutral and he looks over at the painting, too. “Was that her?” Jade nods once, her grip on his knee tightening a little bit. “You look just like her,” he says, voice so soft she almost wonders if she was meant to hear it.

“People tell me that a lot.” She can’t keep looking at the portrait, so she stares down at her hands folded together in her lap. She takes in a shaky breath and then says, “I wish I had gotten the opportunity to know her. I wish the stories people told me meant anything to me. I wish… I wish I hadn’t killed her.”

There’s a dragging moment of silence. Then, he murmurs, “There was a rumor in Derse, once.” When she looks up at him he’s still staring at the painting. “Nobody had ever seen the Prospitian princess before. People started to whisper to each other that she was dead, that Prospit was lying about there being a princess at all. It was all a ruse to move into that castle, so close to the border. They wanted to keep an eye on us, that was all.”

She feels sick again. “Did you believe it?”

When he looks at her, his smile is sad. “No. Not for a moment. I know what it’s like to be hidden by your family.”

She wants to ask him whether people still believe the rumor. It seems like the sort of thing that could be important, if they’re supposed to be marrying each other and people think she’s a fake. Then again, what difference would it make? The war would still be over, and she would still be Dave’s wife, and he would still never be king. Then, she wants to kiss him. This moment feels so intimate. It would be the perfect time. Maybe their only opportunity.

Instead, she reaches over to pull his head down into her lap and buries her fingers in his hair. It’s something her grandfather used to do when she was little, hold her head in his lap and brush his fingers through her hair until she fell asleep. It’s not a kiss, but she hopes that it’s comforting. She hopes that he can hear her thanking him for listening to her without her saying it out loud, that he can feel how grateful she is that he was vulnerable with her. Eventually, she thinks he must fall asleep like that, and when Kanaya comes to tell them it’s time for dinner, she sends her away without a word.

#Darla writes #Homestuck #Jade Harley #Dave Strider #DaveJade #Karkat Vantas #Tavros Nitram #Kingdomstuck #Fantasy #Arranged Marriage #Slow Burn #lavender moon

5 notes · View notes