#hope u enjoyed the silly lil outtake !! :D

[snickerdoodlles]

You have an upcoming old guard au and howl's moving castle au for patpran? 👀

i do!! :D the old guard AU was inspired by this edit by @/patprans because i went feral the second i thought of patpran being in love for 2000 years. its premise is 'what if pat and pran were immortal in bbs canon?' and runs from there. of the two AUs, it's also the one closer to being finished (nearly 8k long too! who am i even!!). i rly need to completely scrap the last 1.5k of the fic or so and rewrite it completely, i just havent been able to bring myself to do that yet lol. id love for it to go up before the month is out but...we'll see how well i stick to that plan 😂 💦

the howl's moving castle AU...well, if im in a fandom, assume i have a HMC AU. howl's moving castle is my favorite series ever (and Diana Wynne Jones my favorite author ever) and it really influenced a lot of my writing style in general, so i fall back into that universe quite often lol. the PatPran HMC AU will be called listen with your heart (dont have much in that tag yet, but. soon. i talked a little bit about the opening premise in the tags of this post though)

it's high school era!PatPran (specifically their senior year) and it starts with Pran accidentally attaching his revolving door to Pat's bedroom door instead of his own (always double check your maths kids!!) but he won’t be able to move the door to his proper bedroom one for Reason. so as you can see, Pran is Howl, Pat is Sophie, and Calcifer will be an OC named Fig, and i think ive made @jemmo cry over this AU no less than 10 times already. i dont know when i'll finish this fic because its getting um. Long. but its a big love letter to Pran's kindness, Pat's care, and knitwear, so I'm really pumped to share it when i can 🥰

and since it's going to be a lil while til its done, here's a little outtake (~1k) from the first time Pat meets Fig the fire ghost under the read more :D ~

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No sooner does Pat reenter his room when he hears the tell-tale whistle-click of his door changing. All thoughts of changing out of his school uniform fly from his head as he dumps his schoolbag in his entryway immediately and turns on his heel to bother Pran. He grabs hold of his doorknob with an eager wiggle and after a quick mental count to three, throws open the door and lunges in.

Pat fully expects to fall onto Pran and get shoved back into his room with a shout and a scolding. But instead of Pran, all he meets is empty space. He stumbles into the home beyond his door with a gasp and--barely--manages to get his feet under him before he falls flat on his face. 

Pat gapes at the newfound territory in awe. He’s stolen glimpses of this room before, of course, but this is the first time he’s seen it. It’s a strange place; Pat had thought Pran now lives in a dorm at his new school, but this looks more like a full cottage to him. The living space has been converted into one large workspace, tables littered with half-finished projects, shelves crammed with textbooks and supplies, a cheerful fire crackling in a large fire pot beneath an open window. A small open kitchen is tucked into the corner and just past it, Pat can see a small hallway of doors open to bedrooms, a bathroom, and extra storage space. Everything smells overwhelmingly of spice and smoke that make Pat's nose itch like he needs to sneeze.

“It is a wizard’s space,” he murmurs to himself as he admires the strange room and begins to poke around. He’s never been in a magic workshop before--all the laboratories in school are firmly locked to only allow magiks in--but after he gets used to the overwhelming newness, he starts picking out little bits of Pran in the smiley faces decorating the spice jars and the animated faces on the strings of globe lights. Pat admires one of the faces making an exaggerated scowl at him with little inked huffs and giggles to himself. He resists the urge to explore more when Pran isn’t here, instead turning to the fire in the corner with a raised eyebrow. “Does Pran know you let me in?”

A grinning shadow of a face appears in the fire. It’s hard to make out completely, like Pat’s looking at something through the heated ripples of a mirage, but silvery flames emerge through the pink-gold flames of the fire’s body to form two mischievously slanted eyes and a jagged gash of silvery grin. It looks positively wicked, and Pat can’t help but grin back at it.

“Not many people see me, much less so quickly,” the fire ghost says. Its voice sounds like the hiss-spit of a burning wet log, but Pat gets the impression its pleased all the same.

“Did Pran say you could let me in?” Pat repeats stubbornly. He’s curious, but not that curious. Besides, it’s no fun breaking rules if Pran’s not there to scold him.

The fire ghost’s grin doesn’t falter. "You were always here,” it says in a pleased whine. A log in its pot cracks in a giggling spit of sparks. “I just opened the door.”

Pat purses his lips suspiciously. So that’s probably a no. He’s not sure a fire ghost will just let him leave if he goes about it directly though--and it must sense Pat’s plans, because the sharp whistle-click of the door changing sounds behind him, leaving Pat trapped until Pran gets back. Pat’s not annoyed by this, per se. He doubts Pran would let a fire ghost that would harm him or his guests into any home of his. It’s just embarrassing to be stuck here until Pran can come bail him out, and Pat had left his cellphone in the bag he dropped in his room like an idiot. He’s not sure what else he can do but wait though, not when the fire ghost offers him a seat on the stool nearby its pot and admires Pat with open curiosity.

"I’m Fig.”

“Pat,” he offers with a friendly nod hello.

“I know,” Fig says. It crackles with a little flare of warmth. “You’re the one Pran likes to visit.”

Despite his best intentions not to snoop, Pat can’t help but perk up with a pleased grin. “He said that?”

Fig lets out a series of spitting sparks and cracks that Pat thinks is supposed to be merry laughter. “Pran shares everything with me,” it says conspiratorially.

Pat raises his eyebrows dubiously. “Why would Pran tell anything to a fire ghost?”

Fig flickers sulkily. “I’m his fire ghost. Of course he shares everything with me.”

Pat laughs and leans closer, not hearing the door latch release. “Pran bound himself to a fire ghost? My Pran?”

Fig flares brighter right as a voice echoes coldly from the doorway. “Snooping, Pat?”

Pat whirls around with a sunny smile, and Fig echoes his greeting with a bright flare up that washes the whole room in warmth. “No! Fig brought me in, he said I was supposed to be here,” he rats out shamelessly, eyes glued to Pran.

Pran ignores him in favor of glaring at the fire ghost flickering big and bright just behind Pat. “Did he now?”

Pat lets out a small sigh from his nose. He’d known that must’ve been the case, but he had hoped...

“And I didn’t snoop,” Pat adds on mulishly. “I was waiting for you to come back.” Pat brightens with a gasp. “But you’re here now!” he says cheerfully, and dives for the nearest shelf full of books and jars to poke through.

“Ai, Pat!”

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