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friend-crow · 2 years

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I have a relatively reasonable thing to ask, but I am afraid it touches on controversial elements in places.

I am very much a plant person. A lot of my magic happens that way. In my garden, in private, quiet enjoyment of living things growing.

I know about some herbs that can be used for tea (if it is on the shelf at Safeway, I can be generally sure it is safe for human consumption if I can get it and grow it fresh i.e. chamomile and lavender) and I have a variety of things that I grow and use just for that.

If I wish to improve my acumen with both magical and culinary/botanical uses of plants, how would you suggest I proceed? My Mom used to keep a copy of "The Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs" on the shelf in my house, and I have flipped through a copy recently and sort of put it in the "sus" pile.

I have 4 different field guides, including Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast, which has very good photos and occasionally mentions when/if a plant was used by native peoples if that is known, and in roughly what capacity (generally medicinal).

I know enough about plants to know that phytochemical concentrations vary widely even within species, and that without great care and experienced tutors, trying to use plants medicinally is Quite Dangerous. The danger Triples if you add mushrooms into the equation.

Do you think I should just Leave off the idea of getting better at herbal magic and learning herbal medicine? Is it just toeing controversial lines that are not worth it anymore? Read any good books lately??

Hello hello! Thank for you stopping by, and my apologies for the long time spent in rumination on this. Plants are a passion of mine, but I am far from an expert, and as you clearly know they can be very powerful, and even fatal, so.... obligatory disclaimer because I know you're not the only audience for this post.

I'm not sure there's much I can tell you that you don't already know, but perhaps I can supply a different angle on your existing knowledge, or else point you at some folks who are more knowledgeable than I am.

I think that local field guides and/or foraging books are a great place to start. I have Pacific Northwest Foraging by Douglas Deur, which has been useful in learning about edible native plants -- there were many moments of "oh yeah, that's everywhere and easy to ID" while reading it. Several of the "weeds" growing in my garden already are edible, so that's a good place to start regarding culinary uses.

I also have one on herbalism (The Herbal Apothecary by JJ Pursell -- I honestly don't know how this one ranks compared to other options), which goes over types of herbal remedies and techniques for preparing them, as well as many medicinal plants, though to be honest I plays it pretty safe when it comes to herbal medicine.

Plants like mullein and broadleaf plantain are, to my knowledge, pretty safe (assuming you don't have an allergy to them) and versatile, plus they grow as weeds in the PNW, which makes them easy to forage. They both have internal and topical uses, which means you can get familiar with various preparations with either one of these plants, which I think is a lot of fun.

@wildjuniperjones is an actual herbalist who might be able to give you better suggestions for books and/or ways to safely get into plant medicine than I can. I also get the sense that @elminx might have some insight into this area, or at least works with plants a lot and might have some useful input regarding the larger conversation.

As for magical uses, there are a few different approaches here (and these are just what come to mind for me -- this is in no way comprehensive, I'm sure), the first two of which don't require you to ingest anything at all. Bear in mind that I personally am coming to this from an animist perspective -- much of the magic I do is based on a spirit model, which is great for working with plants, but also might not be your jam.

Some approaches that immediately spring to mind (and all of these things overlap according to my framework, but I list them separately as that might not be the case for you):

-plants as spirit allies -plants as correspondences -achieving altered states using plants

as spirit allies

You already enjoy spending time with plants. I can't recall if you're interested in spirit work as well, but this can be a rewarding avenue, and a way to have a magical and/or spiritual relationship with some of the plants that at least I personally would not be comfortable fucking around with medicinally.

Personally I find plant spirits to be less communicative than, for instance, my ancestral spirits. I've been able to chat with some via divination, but it hasn't been as easy to tease out what they're trying to tell me. Basically plants are not like us, but they have spirits, and you can still form a bond with them by spending time together, observing them, talking to and caring for them. Spirit flight may also be a viable way for you to "meet them halfway" as it were, if you're into that. Over time you may feel comfortable calling on them for assistance in your magical workings.

@windvexer and @stagkingswife are both more experienced spirit workers than I am, and might have useful insight in this area.

correspondences

Personally I'm not into taking those pretty unsourced infographic lists of correspondences at face value -- I like knowing the history and reasoning behind them (because there usually is a reason). However, the more you learn about the medicinal uses of plants, the more you can glean about related magical uses.

A lot of correspondences are also based on folklore. Perhaps you have ties to a culture with plant folklore that you can research.

Coming back to the animist/spirit work angle, as you get to know plants as individuals and understand their spiritual nature, you may be able to recognize additional correspondences. There's nothing wrong with UPG as long as you recognize it for what it is, and you're not presenting it to others as something else.

Personally I don't really consider plant correspondences as ingredients in a recipe so much as friends with relevant skills I can ask for help (kind of like tagging other bloggers to help with an ask when I'm in over my head *cough*).

Putting the part I'm gonna get yelled at for under a cut 🥺

altered states

I'm probably gonna get some flack for this, but once again I encourage anybody reading this to do a ton of research before ingesting anything. This isn't just a disclaimer to cover my ass, it's important. Do the research. Know what you're getting into. Keep in mind any health conditions (mental or otherwise) which might make the use of these substances dangerous to you.

There are many psychoactive plants that I would personally not fuck with in terms of internal (or topical, for that matter) usage. I just don't have the knowledge, and as you say, dosage can be very difficult or impossible to gauge. Some of these substances can do you real harm, and it's not worth the risk to me.

With that said, altered states are a part of much of my magical work, though most often I do not use substances to achieve these states. Some believe that it is counterproductive to do so. Personally I don't feel that way, but it is different, and when it comes to chemically altered states it's important to note that you can't just turn it off -- you have to wait for it to run its course. This can mean sitting with intense discomfort, fear, paranoia, trauma, etc. for hours, and not everybody is prepared to do this.

Cannabis is an easy one to start with (and legal in many states at this point). Personally I prefer strains with low or no THC, but different people react to it differently, and where it makes me sleepy and/or anxious, other people find it eases their anxiety.

Mushrooms (usually cubensis or cyanescens, at least around these parts) are where you're more likely to hear of people having spiritual and/or healing experiences. Personally I had some bad trips when I was much younger, and will likely never do more than microdose at this point. They've been decriminalized where I am, for the record. I'm.... I'm not telling people to break laws, just explaining things that exist 👀

Returning again to spirit work, and this is where I think you would probably get the most enjoyment from this section, if you are interested in experimenting with mushrooms (I mean for all I know you already have and this is kid stuff to you, but whatever): I have known several people who have taken great satisfaction in growing their own mushrooms. I haven't done it myself, though I might try at some point. Obviously research on growing, dosage, etc. would be required.

Also weed. You can obviously grow your own weed, often legally.

I suspect that the combination of A. growing the plant/mushrooms and knowing them personally/as allies B. achieving an altered state using the plants you've cared for and bonded with and C. using the resulting altered state to do magic would be particularly potent.

Flashback to freshman year of college when I took mushrooms with a friend and spent all night theorizing about how "maybe when we get high on plants the plants get to experience consciousness through us, man"... Yeah, that's a bit embarrassing.

Obviously this section is not going to be for everyone, and that is perfectly valid. It is by no means a requirement -- just a possibility.

#ask #promiseiwillwrite #please don't yell at me for posting this

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makeroftherunes · 8 months

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"The Elysium" for WIP Wednesday?

The Elysium, Pt 2!

Thank you so much for requesting this one - you get the very tail end of the original kernel of my idea, so it's all down hill from here. Good timing!

Zeus winced. Persephone was perhaps one of the few gods to whom he actually listened - she never let him forget the way he’d bartered her freedom away to her mother like a business, and that he had never seen fit to correct the mortals on their perception of our marriage. It also could have been that she’s never taken his womanizing shit - Hera could learn something. The King of Swans or whatever bowed slightly to my wife, acknowledging his mistake.

“My apologies, Persephone. This young mortal has been chosen for a quest, and as they are-”

“Hold it.” She held up a hand, and even Zeus stammered to a halt. She turned to Mel. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“M-Mel,” Mel said.

“Hello Mel,” Persephone knelt down and shook their hand. “I’m sorry to meet you like this, but I am glad you’re here and that my husband is taking care of you. I have to ask you some questions, sweetheart, is that okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mel said, sitting up a little straighter. I examined their expression. They seemed to want to make a good impression, but they weren’t checking her out. More like, they wanted her to like them. I wanted to tell them not to try so hard - Persephone didn’t make her affection the carrot.

“How old are you, Mel?”

“I’m, uh, 16. Or I will be soon.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“Um, next Sunday.”

“Aha! The 18th, then. Lovely. Have you had any water or seen a doctor?”

At the mention of doctors, the kid shrunk away from her. “No doctors,” I said gently, “No hospitals. I promise.” They looked at me, and nodded a little.

Persephone straightened, and looked straight at Zeus. “This child is 15 years old. Do you really think that they are in any way, shape or form the ‘hero’ you need? They should be in school! They should be working on homework and going out for burgers and sneaking joints-” I noticed Mel suddenly looking anywhere but me- “NOT going off to be bloody QUESTING. It is the Modern Age, Zeus, for the love of Chr-”

“Please, not him.” Zeus interrupted. “Upstart immortal thinks he can-” His mouth suddenly filled with flowers.

“Persie!” I half chuckled, half warned. The flowers wilted and fell, Zeus sending the last petals spinning with his coughing. “I agree, Zeus, this is a matter that can’t be ignored, but this kid is not going into danger injured and alone. There’s not a chance in hell I’m letting you pick them.”

The room got very quiet.

“You let me?” Zeus growled. The air seemed to crackle again. “I might be younger, Hades, but I am your King. I am King of the Gods, and no matter what hellfire you have at your disposal, I rule you. My word is law. You. Allow. NOTHING.”

Persephone pulled Mel and their chair back, stepping in front of them.

My body flared in anger, the veins of ambrosia sizzling. I answered his might with mine, shadow and dread creeping from the shadows behind me. The light above the table flared, died, flared, died, as though caught perfectly between. Zeus’s human form seemed to age before me, wrinkles appearing, neck bending, eyes clouding-

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” Zeus and I said at the same time. The light bulb screamed in rage, then blew the filaments entirely.

“I’ll do it,” Mel repeated, leaning around Persephone to meet my eyes. “Look, I don’t even know anything about you guys. I read some books in school. Percy Jackson was cool, but I don’t know you. But you know, whatever. Will it get me out of here?” They gestured vaguely, which I took to mean this existence in general and not an offense to my nightclub.

“Mel, this will be dangerous,” I said, easing back my anger. “You could die, there will be terrors, horrible things -”

“Yeah, I know, horrors beyond my comprehension, etc. Listen, uh, Mr. Hades, Lord Hades? I work retail. I have seen humanity at its worst. Literally anything would be better.” They got to their feet, and Persephone glanced at me. I gave her a frustrated look. I couldn’t let this kid do this. Alone, anyway. Persie nodded to me.

“Mel, are you sure?” She asked.

“Yes, Lady Persephone Ma’am,” they said, giving her a non-convincing smile. “I think I am. Chances are, I’m already dead or hallucinating this whole thing. And if I’m not, who would believe me?”

“Fine,” I said, putting a hand on their shoulder, “then you aren’t going alone.” They began to say something, but I let the shadows come back a little. “There are some things I cannot allow, and my brother making a fucking kid go on a quest alone is of them. I can’t stop you, but I can help.”

Zeus snorted, and stepped forward impatiently. “Well then. If you’re finished.” I snarled at him but stepped behind Mel. They started a little, shifting to the side. Zeus held out his hand - no longer aged. “You accept this quest, to find the god-killer and stop them, at all costs and with great danger?”

“I, uh. I do.” Mel clasped his hand.

A small bolt of lightning ignited across their hand. They yelped, though I knew it hadn’t burned them. They jerked their hand away, and I saw the branching mark across their palm.

The hero’s mark, they used to call it. When heroes were alive and Gods still ruled.

#writing #badger scribbles #wip wednesday game #writeblr #wip wednesday #writing games #the elysium

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jeremy-ken-anderson · 10 months

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A Goal is Not a Plan

A little bit ago I "should all over myself" and listed out a bunch of my intentions and goals.

This isn't a bad thing to do! In fact it's good to do on a fairly regular basis - not every week, but like, at least twice a year - to keep track of what actually matters to you, because that can change over time.

Let's turn some of those goals into events to which I need to Show Up.

Java Specialization: This one's the easiest to grok because it's a class. I succeed at it by completing the assignments within the deadline period. In general I complete the assignments by doing the readings, watching the lectures, and then programming stuff in the IDE they provide.

Get a Job: This is a very fishing-oriented process. Or a better analogy would be crabbing, perhaps. You lay out a lot of lines, and you examine what bites you get, and you throw stuff back when it's unacceptable for your standards and eventually take one that you're okay with. I'm not willing to start this process until I'm at least halfway into the final course of the specialization, so that I can be reasonably assured I'll be done with the course before I interview with anyone. The plan for now is to gather info on groups I might want to work for, based on their corporate behavior and their overall mission.

Lose 15 Pounds: As a man without any known illnesses, this has a good chance of being as simple as "proper diet and exercise." This involves staying within my calorie count on my app and making sure I get 3 workouts (30-minute aerobics, 1-hour hike, 20-minute slow walk) each day. My overall goal is 25 pounds, but not necessarily by the end of the year. I want this to be a sustainable shift.

Catch Up With OCR Formatting: Done!

Prod My Publisher Re: Shadowrift: Oh yeah! I need to do that. That's a single email so it's less of a "plan" and more of a "do the thing."

Complete Work on the Book I'm Editing: First is to finish reading it, and make sure that Section 2 is comprehensible. Section 2 is a toolkit, meaning on the one hand that less is subject to editorial input and on the other hand that what editorial input is allowed is absolutely necessary. Once that's done, we look into rearranging Section 3 for style and flow, much like Section 1. As far as an action plan I think I'll start setting a timer for 30 minutes a day. This will both keep me from getting bogged down and give me an easy way to mark my hours.

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razorblade180-heated · 3 years

Text

Too much

[It’s a smut]

It was a normal day at Beacon. Same old classes. Same old delicious lunches. Same old Blake. Well, not entirely. The girl had a problem, a snag if you will. She was currently on her bed in her school uniform, sulking more than she usually does. She patiently waited for the door to open. As she did, The words of Weiss Schnee replayed through her brain…

xxxxx

“YOU ARE DATING J-” The heiress’s mouth was covered quickly by Blake, who looked panicked.

“Ssssshhhh! What part of secret did you not understand!?” Blake said through her teeth, “we don’t want attention.”

Weiss swatted the hand away and whispered, “Sorry, but you should know better than to reveal truths out of the blue like that by now. This is crazier than the last one to be frank.”

Blake wasn’t too thrilled in Weiss’s choice of words in regards to White Fang secret, but now wasn’t the time to bicker. Blake needed her help. “Weiss, I’d like…advice. Also a bit of help.”

“Okay? On what exactly?” The concern in her voice was palpable.

Blake’s face grew a little red. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “Any...any ideas to get a guy to sleep with you?”

Now it was Weiss’s turn to blush. “Just who do you-” she lowered her voice in consideration, “just who do you think I am!? Why are you coming to me for this!?”

“Yang gets too involved in people’s business and Ruby is...she’s Ruby! I love the girl but this is not the topic she can handle.”

Weiss looked Blake up and down. Why the girl needed help was beyond Weiss’s comprehension. It was shocking Blake wasn’t beating admires back with a stick! “How long have you been dating Jaune?” She asked.

“About...five months now? That sounds right.”

Weiss could not believe her ears. Five months, how has no one noticed!? How didn’t she notice? Then again, she did find it a bit out of character of Jaune when he stopped all of romantic efforts. Looks like this was the reason why. It might’ve been her ego talking but it stung a little to know a guy moved to the next letter in her team’s name. Would Yang have been next if Blake, hold on. A thought just occurred.

“Did you ask him out, or did he ask you?” Weiss was very curious about this

Blake blinked. That was an unexpected question. “Me, why”

“No reason.” Well that actually made Weiss feel a bit better. Not that she cared or anything! “Why do you need help with...that? I would think he’d be all over you. Can’t you, ya know? Drop hints?” A terrible expression hit Weiss. “Please tell me that dunce is ignoring basic signs?” She groaned. It would only make sense.

Blake must’ve agreed because she laughed a little. “Hehe, No Weiss, he isn’t.” Blake rubbed her head in embarrassment, “He’s well aware I’m down for sex. With all the neck kisses and body touches, the message is clear.” Blake saw Weiss’s face scrunch up. “What?” She said defensively.

“It’s unpleasant thinking about Jaune in anything less than his armor. You know that hoodie apparently has a rabbit on it, right?”

“Grow up, and that hoodie is fine. You walk around pretending to be taller than 4’11”

“I just like these shoes, and I’m five feet even when they’re off!” She proclaimed, “What is the matter then? Does he not find you physically- actually, don’t answer that.” Weiss didn’t need to know any physical reactions from Jaune. “Just tell me what typically happens as safely as possible.”

Blake took a deep sigh before speaking. “It’s usually the same song and dance. We go on dates, have a good time, find a place to get cozy, I start making moves, he starts building a little momentum, but then he stops.” Even with the bow on, Blake’s ears were clearly drooping. “He just apologies and says he can’t!”

Weiss raised a brow, “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” Blake nodded, “that’s the long and short of it.”

The problem sounded simple, and normal. Like… too normal. Weiss knew besides herself, Blake was the smartest on their team. Although not sociable, Blake could read a room better than Yang or Ruby. “Blake…” Weiss said, befuddled, “How is Jaune on these dates? Attitude wise, like is he nervous?”

“No, not really. We just talk and have fun. In the beginning we were both a little awkward but now we talk and act like we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Now Weiss was a little jealous at Jaune this time! Five months was all it took to get Blake chatting like an old friend!? The amount of groundwork Weiss and the terror sisters had to put in for Blake to even go out into town casually with them was at least two months' work! Now she’s over here trying to sleep with the guy, a thing nobody saw coming.

“I gotta say, this whole thing feels a little wild. To think five months of secrecy lead to this conversation? If he’s as calm you say then I can’t think of many reasons to panic. I mean I get someone having a little anxiety when giving up your first time, but I hear that’s mainly on the girl’s part. You’re all calm though.” Weiss said. She wasn’t expecting Blake’s eyes to shift away slightly, as if the girl was hiding something. “You are calm, right?”

“Huh? Yeah I’m totally calm” Blake clucked her tongue, “because...it’s not my first time.” Her body swayed back and forth out, trying to finish her sentence. “I’ve been in a couple relationships before this. Some good, some abysmal.”

Yet another surprise to add to the list. “Wait, you’re not a virgin?” Weiss couldn’t believe this. Who knew Blake surpassed her in many social and mature experiences. The way she usually was, Weiss couldn’t imagine Blake being that way. The girl once spent an entire weekend reading in the dorm room. This new information though made Weiss come to realize that she previously assumed. She just had to ask one more question. “Does Jaune know that?”

“Of course.” Blake said, feeling a little insulted. “I wouldn’t lie to him or not be open enough to talk about my past.

Weiss sighed in disbelief at her faunus friend. Perhaps her assessment of Blake reading a room well was a little off. As much as Jaune had been annoying to Weiss, she felt bad for his clearly anxious soul. “Blake, I expect this kind of cluelessness from our leader.”

Blake looked rough left and to the right as if anyone else was there to explain. “Uhhh what?” She said, actually a little stumped.

Weiss put her hands together like she was dealing with an interviewer with zero experience. “Let’s put it this way. You have asked me why your boyfriend, who is most definitely a virgin, shys away from sleeping with you? A beautiful girl who’s already had experience. Ya don’t think he’s you know, incredibly nervous of not meeting pre-established expectations? You know you’re boyfriend, Jaune Arc, the same Jaune Arc that worries about everything else in his life going well?”

Blake just...sat quietly for a moment. Her brain wasn’t even having a gears turning moment. She was upset with herself that those gears weren’t spinning from the beginning. There was nothing to figure out at all! She had simply glanced over that possibility! Her hands held her head as she let out a long groan. “Uuuuugggg What is wrong with me? Of course he fucking is. I’ve been so caught up thinking I was doing something physically wrong, or I was wrong.”

A part of that sounded like baggage. Baggage Weiss wasn’t about to unpack. “Well, question solved. Unfortunately, he’s right to worry. I can’t imagine anybody giving a good first performance. Has he even seen you fully naked?”

“We’ve sent pictures, and did a bit of touching. That second one though was always in...un-private areas, so clothes stayed on.

“Did you just tell me you two are doing things in public?” Weiss criticized. At this point, the girl known as Blake Belladonna might as well be a stranger. Weiss didn’t know this person! Her Blake was not this forward. When did they have time for any of this!? Was she not actually reading in the dorm room!!? “Also, I may not have ever slept with a woman, but I’m sure seeing their assets over a screen is less stressful than in my face.

Blake uncovered her face. “Explain Yang walking out the shower naked then?”

“That’s not stress you see, that’s envy. Next time she does it I’m turning the droplets on her into ice, and stop changing the subject!”

Blake threw her arms up, “Having a secret relationship means not having access to our dorms. That actually brings us to the favor I mentioned…”

“No, I will not give you money for a hotel.” Weiss deadpanned.

Blake’s jaw fell open. “Why not!? It doesn’t have to be a suite.”

Weiss rubbed the bridge of her knows as she thinks about her bank account. “No one carries enough cash to pay for a hotel room. Theoretically I could swipe my credit card, but then the bill is now in my purchase history. I do not need to explain in any capacity why I’m staying in a hotel. A person is bound to assume what I’m doing is exactly what you want to do. Nah uh, can’t do it.” Blake put her head down. Weiss couldn’t help but feel a little bad for her. She’s clearly been putting in the effort to sleep with Jaune, for some reason. Well he was...no no, that’s a rabbit hole that could stay closed. “How long do you need with him?” Weiss asked, committed to solving this problem for the sake of already being included.

Blake’s head popped up quickly . “Two, no, three hours. Give or take an extra half hour.”

Weiss blushes, “wh..why so long?”

“Just in case…” Blake mumbled, “Anything could happen.”

“For three hours? What are you, an animal in heat?” It didn’t even take a second for Weiss to realize how fucked up that question was. She placed her hand over Blake’s mouth as her friend's eyes were getting hostile. “Sorry! That was unrelated to anything, honest!”

Blake was kind enough to believe Weiss at her word, but still petty enough to lick the girl’s hand, making her shriek.

“Eeeiiik!!! Blake!”

“Three hours please.”

Weiss sighed, “Fine. Getting Ruby and Yang to stay out of there that long is doable. They always wanna drag me around to do things that will give me ‘culture’ as they put it. How are you gonna handle Jaune?”

“I….good question.”

Yep, definitely doesn’t read the room well. “Blake, just be easy with him. Reassuring words, all that stuff. It’s his first after all.”

Blake was surprised by the advice. “Wow, that’s really sweet of you to care about him like that.”

Weiss crosses her arms and turns away. “I’m doing this for you, not him. And for me. Jaune moping is way worse than when he’s confident. Hmph!”

xxxxx

“Come on Jaune! What’s taking so long?” Blake thought, fidgeting on her bed. A click of the door lock made her jump to her feet as it opened slowly. Jaune’s head peaked into the room, confused.

“Umm hello?”He looked to the right and saw Blake. “Oh, hey. I got your text and Weiss told me to swing by the moment I could. Everything okay?” Jaune walked in completely and shut the door. Something about this felt uncharacteristically serious. Even for Blake.

She took Jaune’s hand and guided him towards her bed to sit. “Okay, how to start this?” She sighed.

“I hope it starts with you telling me this isn’t a break up?” He said, worrying that he was in trouble. “That would be nice.”

Blake rubbed his back and smiled. “Relax, this isn’t that kind of talk. It’s actually...kinda the opposite.”

“The opposite? Like...marriage?” Jaune’s eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting that kind of conversation. “Don’t you think we’re too young for all that?”

Blake’s face turned red. The fact that’s where his mind went was actually pretty sweet. “Sex Jaune. I see how you got there, but I was referring to sex.” Blake mumbled. “Can we talk about it? We keep building up to it, but then you stop.”

His face got red. “I...it’s just…ummm” he couldn’t find the words. If Yang was here then he was sure a cat having his tongue pun would’ve been said. Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed about wimping out. Speaking only got worse when Blake took it upon herself to straddle his lap. Gods, she was too beautiful. Her eyes left him defenseless. The way her hands slowly ran up his chest and over his shoulders as the smell of lavender wafted over him. “Bl-Blake?”

“I like you.” She suddenly confessed, “I like you for who you are. The things you can do, can’t do, and never have done; I’m okay with all of it. If you’re thinking I’m ranking you to any previous experience, you’re wrong. The only experience I think about with you, is us. Our experiences.” Her right hand pulls his collar away from his neck. The urge to bite her lip is overwhelming as an urge in her core starts to burn. “Let me experience you.” She whispers. Blake leans in and begins kissing his neck. Honestly, she wanted to take things slower for his sake, but all but yearned for Jaune to touch her. So much so that it was a bit dizzying.

Jaune’s body flinched as Blake’s lips grazed his neck, nipping and licking it. “Blake…” Jaune moaned. His mind was still playing catch up, but his body was right on pace. His hands traveled up the feline’s toned legs and squeezed the round ass that rested on his lap, earning him a moan. Blake moved from his neck and captured his lips. Her hands went to his jawline to keep his face close. As if he thought about escaping.

Blake openly moaned as she felt his fingers kneed her ass like dough. She caught him by surprise when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, luring his into her own. Slowly, Blake locked her body back and forth to stir him up. The low groan he let out was a good sign she had done her job. Still, they have gotten this far before. Blake was determined to get further.

Her lips finally freed Jaune. The boy was flushed completely, catching his breath in rhythm with hers. Blake took the opportunity to remove only her blazer, then brought Jaune’s left hand away from her ass and onto her breast. Her fingers overlapped his and pressed down, making him squeeze it gently. “Touch me…” the lust in her voice flowed like a river. The way she felt Jaune’s hand quiver told her that he was still pretty anxious.

Jaune found it within himself to bring both of his hands to the top button of her shirt. A small smile on Blake’s face appeared as she closed her eyes and puffed her chest out a bit more as a sign to go ahead. “Take your time.” She said. Being patient wasn’t Blake’s strongest quality, but with Weiss’s advice in mind, she did her best to contain herself. It was funny. Jaune being nervous was actually making her heart beat faster.

Cool air hit her chest as her shirt was undone, revealing a purple lace bra. Firm hands went around her back. “I can handle the bra if you’re having tr-” a little pop noise was made as her bra strap was undone faster than her shirt. “Trouble…” she finished.

Jaune let out a sheepish chuckle. “Hehe, seven sisters, remember. I’m no stranger to how bras work. They left them everywhere.

“Jaune, you’re like a bag of tricks.” Blake smiled, “I just never know what comes next with you. That being said, I have a good idea that I'll be leading from here.” Blake let her bra fall, making Jaune gasp under his breath. Blake found his reaction to her D sized chest. His face got redder by the second as Blake brought his hands to them.

Jaune refused to speak. He’d hate to ruin the mood right now. He couldn’t believe how soft Blake felt. The way his fingers pressed against her as he massaged each boob. His pointer fingers grazed over her pale, pink nipples made the girl settle more into his lap.

“Mmmm~” Blake moaned, biting her lip from the touch. Jaune took it as a sign to keep going. A wise choice. Blake once again started to buck her hips against what had to be Jaune’s rock hard erection. Even with clothes on, it’s heat reached Blake’s equally hot core. Blake’s hands got busy. She scooted back a bit for them to have enough room to unbuckle Jaune’s pants. Her fingers traced along his lower stomach before dipping below the waistband and wrapping the throbbing erection. Blake leaned forward to capture his tongue yet again as he groaned from the feeling of her nimble fingers stroking his down.

Blake managed to pull his length up and out of his pants completely. She scooted forward again and rubbed his exposed cock against her wet panties. Her clit ground against the shaft. Blake mewled lustfully from Jaune squeezing her breast harder than before. Blake felt her tongue get drawn in and sucked on lightly. Someone was getting excited. The hot precum that ran down her hands only made it easier for Blake to pump faster.

Jaune couldn’t contain his groans and grunts. His hands gripped Blake’s ass again to hold her close. His kiss with her was broken by her going to kiss and bite his neck. “Blake…”

“Sshhh” Blake whispered, “cum for me.” If it wasn’t for her underwear, Jaune’s cock would be sliding up and down her soaked folds right now. The tip pressed against her clit and sent a shiver through Blake’s body that made her grind harder against it. She could tell Jaune was at the end of his rope. His hands gripped her even tighter as Jaune’s throbbing length finally let out a thick white seed that painted Blake’s moist thighs and panties. Blake smiled seductively as she slowed down the roll of her hips, letting him ride out his pleasure and wring out whatever remained inside.

“Blake!” Jaune hissed from the pleasure. Her hands pressed against his rising chest, making him lean back until his forearms had to support his body. Blake dismounted him to stand up for a moment then raised the sides of her soiled skirt, giving Jaune a clear view of the mess he made on the girl.

“Someone’s healthy.” Blake teased, “I wasn’t expecting so much.” Blake’s face became a deep red. Imagining the thought of this load inside her made her weak in all the right ways.

The sight of his and Blake’s arousal slowly trailing down her well toned legs was enough to leave anyone speechless. It didn’t help that her black panties were damp enough to outline the entrance to what Jaune would know to be a very intense experience. And as bad as he wanted it, Jaune couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by his performance. “Not to kill the mood or sound ungrateful, but cumming alone is a bit… ehhh” was the best way he could describe himself.

Blake playfully rolled her eyes. Boys will be boys. “Well it’s not like we’re finished yet. Besides I literally told you cum. Rest assured I’ll get my moment a bliss before the end of this. Just have a bit of confidence. We’re still foreplaying.”

“I’m not an expert on this but is foreplay always this intense? I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard.” He admitted.

“It varies. Honestly...” Blake looked down at Jaune’s semi-flaccid dick. She slowly walked closer to the bed. Her hand tugged on Jaune’s slacks, prompting him to scoot down a bit more until Blake felt he was close enough. The young woman pulled a bit harder to pull his pants down and of the way of getting ruined. All why never taking her eyes off of him or is cum covered length. “....I like watching how good I make you feel.” She purred, getting excited again.

Jaune has no response to such a confession. Nor could he say anything as she bent over to grab his dick. Just her touching it was enough to make him grow. To get points even further across, Blake’s golden eyes looked right into his eyes as she made him tremble from placing her tongue at the base and lick up; agonizingly slow and deliberate too.

Blake took her time swirling around Jaune to collect the remnants of his load before taking him into her mouth for real. Jaune’s body tensed immediately and hand instinctively went to her head to brace himself as she bobbed up and down. His fingers wrapped around strains of hair, tugging them. Blake purred again with him down her throat and began watching him squirm.

“Blake!” He gasped. The girl only sped. Each time she went lower and lower while her tongue stroked the underside of his shaft. Before Jaune knew it, he was fully erect again and felt like he could cum again if she continued. “Blake! T-Timeout!” He yelled.

Blake gladly stopped. She had proved her point, gotten him hard again, and was pleasantly surprised to learn Jaune wasn’t that bitter in the slightest. Maybe it was his natural scent or something but Blake could see herself getting a bit too into sucking him off. That taste lingered on her and made her body burn up. “Need a break?”

“Not really.” He fibbed, knowing full well a girl who just went down him could probably tell just how into that experience he was. “I just… If I’m coming twice, I’d rather you get some action too.”

“Oh, okay.” Blake’s heart fluttered a bit. He really wanted her to feel good with him. “Then, let’s skip to the fun part.” Blake removed her panties that really should’ve removed earlier, along with the skirt.

Jaune marveled at his beautiful girlfriend who stood before him. Yeah they had sent pictures and sure she’s been topless for several minutes now, but it felt different once everything came off. Her long, beautiful legs went on each side of him, letting him have a full view of a wanting velvet core that hovered above his cock. A thin line of Blake’s arousal made both of teens blush as it dripped onto him. Jaune took his right thumb and pressed against her entrance, rubbing it slowly and watching how it coated his thumb.

“Mmmm~” Blake let out a breath that shook with excitement. Her chest began to rise and fall more distinctly and her back arched ever so slightly as she closed her eyes. “Please don’t fucking team me too long.” She moaned, nudging her hips to gain more friction.

Jaune was mesmerized by the way she acted. He sunk his thumb into her just to watch her crane her neck up and moan again. If he wasn’t excited before, he was now. “You’re so fucking wet…” pushing further in to feel her walls tighten. He kept a slow rhythm when pulling out, just to push right back in.

Blake bit her lip. Her hands ran up his shirt to expose his chest. She had to remember to thank

Pyrrha for putting Jaune through such rigorous training. He was well on his way to being the huntsman he so dearly dreamed of. It was funny but the more Blake thought it about, the more she realized what made her so drawn to him. Even when Jaune lacked experience, he set his sights high. Sure they could be a little too high at times, but you know what? There was something great about that. “I thought I told you not to tease me? I want you to give it to me.” Blake purred. She mustered the resolve to pry Jaune’s hand from her body and took hold of something much bigger and lively. “Ready for a ride? Just relax and let me lead okay?”

Jaune nodded. He watched Blake lower herself without a second thought. His hips instinctively bucked up as he felt the indescribable pleasure of wet, heated walls pulled him in tightly, refusing to let go. Jaune closed his eyes and gripped her waist.

“Feeling good?” Blake shuddered. The feeling of Jaune rubbing her insides so deep made her want to move immediately. Blake put her hands against Jaune’s chest and began rocking her hips. The grip Jaune had on her tightened. A low groan strained from his throat. Blake leaned forward until her breast pressed against him. “It gets better.” Her knees started feeling weak as raised her hips, having Jaune’s dick slid out until the tip remained. Blake then dropped her hips down, slamming his cock back inside of her. Again and again she did that, picking up the speed each time until the sound of her ass smacking against his lap filled the room and rocked the bed. Blake’s body was on autopilot. The feeling of her womb being invaded and walls being grazed, shocked Blake each time Jaune’s dick spearheaded inside of her wanting pussy. “Oh fuck yes…” Blake gasped, licking and biting Jaune’s neck.

The boy was going through it right now. Never had Jaune felt this kind of heat. No amount of foreplay could prepare anybody for this. Each slight movement felt like a jolt of lightning. His mind and body were conflicted. On one hand, Jaune wanted to hold out as long as possible. Yet his hips had other plans. Jaune couldn’t stop himself from timing his movements with Blake’s, thrusting deep into her for even greater pleasure

Blake had no problem with this whatsoever. “Ahhh~ just like that!” Blake encouraged, “You’re so deep...mmmm” the heat between them only grew. Their bodies worked up a sweat and Blake found herself panting more than moaning. Letting Jaune cum once was a good idea. Not only for him to last longer for this moment, but even Blake wasn’t confident her experience would give her an edge against his stamina. High sex drive or not, Blake knew herself well. Satisfying her needs wasn’t as trying as Jaune might think. Especially when she’s topping.

Blake sat up and leaned back a bit. She braced her hands behind her back and began rocking back and forth with Jaune completely inside of her.

Jaune couldn’t take his eyes off of Blake’s body as it grinded on him. The woman’s eyes were shut tight as she focused on the pleasure, while her boobs bounced from each rock. “You’re so beautiful.” He said without thinking. The compliment was heard though, since Blake immediately started going even faster. Jaune let out another groan. He wanted her so bad. Sitting still just wasn’t his style.

Blake’s concentration was broken when she felt strong arms around her lower back. She opened her eyes to see the blonde knight sit up as well. “Jaune?” She said confused. Instead of answering her. Jaune gave her a chaste but strong kiss before his mouth went suck on one of her tits. “Jaune!” She moaned, gripped his hair. Blake arched her back as she felt him lick and suck it, while groping the other one. The assault on her body only intensified when his remaining free hand fell to her ass to squeeze it while she continued to fuck herself on his dick until her mind felt foggy. “This is...too much!” Her hand clung to him. “And you were worried!?” She asked knowing he couldn’t speak right now.

Jaune might’ve been happy by the question if he wasn’t too busy fighting off his fast approaching orgasm. It was crazy Blake was the one saying he was doing too much. Her scent, the way her body pressed against his, the sounds that escaped her beautiful lips, and the way she moved her hips. As if she was trying to milk everything out of him all at once. Every part of her wax too much yet Jaune could only want more, surrendering to the embrace of her soaked walls. Jaune gasped for air. “Blake, I….I can’t...”

Words were beyond him. All he could do was buck in between Blake’s legs.

A seductive smile grew on her face as she went faster. “That’s right, fuck me just like this….and cum. Blake leaned into his, “Hard…”

A slave to her voice, Jaune obeyed Blake’s words without fail. He could only manage several more intoxicating moments before the urge to cum was too strong to deny. Jaune held her close and kept her there; shooting ropes white inside her.

Blake felt Jaune bite down on her shoulder as he filled her deep. All the rough touches and spasms was more than enough to push her over the edge. “Shit…” she said with a shrill voice. Her arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body and Blake buried her face in the crook of neck. Blake tried resisting but her nails dug into his back as her orgasm finally hit. Every muscle in her body tensed up. Her toes curled and she could feel Jaune throbbing inside her as her body tried taking everything the boy had to give.

Neither could speak. They could only cling to each other for what felt like forever before the waves of pleasures finally subsided. Blake was the first to loosen her grip. The girl's limbs released tension and she had zero desire to move an inch. It was only when Jaune went to tilt her head up by her chin that the two looked at each other with a mix of gratification and exhaustion. Blake positioned his hand for her head to rest in, purring at the feel of his touch.

Jaune let out at chuckle. He fell backwards onto the bed with Blake following him down. The girl laid on top of him and continued purring.

“Yeah I don’t see what you were worried about.” She said, teasingly.

“Hey, when Blake Belladonna says she wants to have her way with you, panic sets in. So, good time?”

Blake flicked his forward. “You have me laying on top of you naked and purring.”

“Yeah, fair point. Phew, well that’s good. I like making you happy.”

Blake blushed as she felt his arms hold her gently. “Hmm well looks like you’ve given me a new experience after all.”

“What, cuddling after sex?”

“Mmmhmmm.” Blake hummed, “No time to cuddle when you’re you know, working in a cult. Luxuries like that don’t exist.”

Jaune smirked, “Gee, I never would’ve guessed.” Blake pinched him for that sarcastic remark. Not that it actually did anything. “Well I’m happy to be your first post sex cuddle experience. Though it’s a little risky isn’t it?”

“We have like three hours before anyone shows up. It’s fine.”

“Not exactly the issue I had in mind but good to know.”

Blake’s eyelids felt heavy. That was until the feeling of Jaune’s hands on her butt shocked her away. The feeling of him swelling inside her again made her shudder. Stamina was dangerous. “Please, fifteen minutes. We have like three hours.” She groaned. “Then I’ll have you screaming all over again.”

“Fine by me, but this time I’m getting you off at least twice. Two to one just isn’t fair. I want you just as pleased as me.”

Looking back on things, Blake mentally retracted her statement about boys and their pride. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. “I’ll hold you to that.” Blake closed her eyes and got some rest.

xxxx

“We’re back!” Yang shouted as she walked in with her two teammates. She looked over to see Blake chillin on her bed reading in her sleeping clothes. “Gee if it wasn't for your clothes then I would’ve believed you actually sat there and read the entire time. I’m surprised you haven’t finished all of your books.”

“I’m a slow reader.” Blake blatantly lied. “I did finish a couple of times, books I mean.” Her eyes looked up from the pages to see Weiss staring at her in voiceless disbelief. She wiggled her eyebrows, making Weiss turn red.

The heiress turned around and walked out the room.

“Weiss, where are you going?” Ruby asked.

The Schnee sighed and kept walking. “A place that makes sense.”

Ruby didn’t know what that meant she looked at Yang who shrugged, then to Blake who masterfully controlled her laughter. “Huh, I guess Blake reading slowly through her for a loop?”

It was impossible for Blake not to place her book over her face and smile behind it. “Never change Ruby.” She muttered, “Never change.”

#rwby #blake belladonna #jaune arc #rwby knightshade #weiss schnee #ruby rose #yang xiao long

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mourntheantagonist · 3 years

Text

#HarringroveApril Day 7: Daisychain

***

“Mr. Harrington? Who’s your favorite student?”

The question came about at least once every year without fail, and he’d always answer in the same, textbook way.

“I don’t have favorites. I love all my kids equally.”

And, deservedly so, the whole class would grunt and moan because they knew just as well as he did that it was a load of bullshit. Steve loved every one of his kids, that part wasn’t a lie, but… he also definitely had his favorites.

For the graduating class of ‘90 when he was only a teaching assistant his name was Daniel. He was the youngest in his class because he started early, and he was incredibly bright. He could count higher, he could read quicker, and his mind just worked in ways that no adult could possibly understand. But it wasn’t the textbook intelligence that made Steve fall for this kid. It was his emotional intelligence. He was funny and he was kind and five year olds were cruel, but he never let that get to him. He had an outlook on life that Steve was jealous of, so when the other kids would turn him down for a game of checkers, Steve would happily join him, because Steve saw it as his job to keep that kid kind.

For the class of ‘91 it was Christopher. He was nothing like Daniel. He was held back and was repeating kindergarten, and that was evident in the way he walked through life. He was quiet and would voluntarily remove himself from the rest of the class. He’d sit by himself and read a book and get frustrated when he didn’t understand one of the words, he would swing by himself and he always tried to sneak off with the first graders when it was time to line up. And Steve perfectly resonated with that feeling of watching all of your friends move on without you. He was left in the dust too. When all his classmates moved on to college or hightailed it out of Hawkins, Steve was left there by himself, working at Family Video with his only friend in the grade below him, and it took her leaving him as well for Steve to finally get his shit together, haul his ass west of the Mississippi, and enroll in a community college and work towards his teaching degree.

And he did it, against all odds and obstacles in his way, he did it. It took extra work and the support of his best friend who he followed, and he did it. He saw himself in Christopher, and he wasn’t going to make that kid wait as long as he did to realize that setbacks don’t define his future.

Steve usually took a liking to the quiet kids, and that only changed in ‘93 with the girl named Amy and the familiar last name. She was loud, vibrant, and everyone loved her. Her smile was contagious and she could be the sweetest little girl at times, but she also wore her heart on her sleeve. She cried quite a bit, just the littlest thing could set her off. A boy accidentally knocking over her blocks, not knowing how to spell a certain word, accidentally coloring outside the lines. She didn’t throw tantrums like he saw in the other kids. She would just bow her head and cry and it would break Steve’s heart every time.

But other than those few moments, she was bright and charismatic and with the last name, the blonde curly hair, and the big personality, Steve really should have put it all together much sooner than he did.

He didn’t put it all together until he saw Billy Hargrove in the soup aisle at the local grocery store wearing a chain of little daisies on his head like a crown, and he knew exactly where it was from.

It was from the little girl named Amy Hargrove who frolicked in the field instead of playing on the playground, collecting flowers that she meticulously made into bracelets and crowns and anything else she put her mind to. She gave them to friends, she even gave one to Steve, and of course she would give one to her dad too.

He looked so different, and yet exactly the same. He still had the damn mullet, just dragging the eighties with him as far as he could, he was a little more cleaned up but still had a similar style to what it was in highschool. Still with the same denim jacket, denim jeans, Canadian tuxedo type deal. In a side by side picture situation you wouldn’t really be able to tell the difference. It wasn’t his dress or his hair or anything physical about him that made him look so different, it was the way that he carried himself. It was the relaxation and the eyes that didn’t droop and the smile lines that didn’t used to be there that made him almost entirely unrecognizable from the Billy Hargrove who pushed freshman against lockers and drove his car too loud and too fast and had cigarettes for three meals a day. Not the kid who ran off to California as soon as the hospital released him with only his Camaro and a small suitcase and a large sum of money the government used to keep his mouth shut, leaving just a note for Max on the fridge that didn’t get any more specific than that about where he was going, not even leaving a phone number for her to contact him with. He also didn’t look like the kid they all pictured in their heads after basically the whole town found out about exactly what Neil Hargrove did to his son behind closed doors.

Steve wanted to go up to him in the store, but he stopped himself. Because Billy left. Without a trace or a word, and who was Steve to think that Billy having to be reminded of something he voluntarily abandoned without a second thought would have any sort of positive outcome?

So he turned down the aisle and kept his distance from the man in the flower crown because he was scared. He wasn’t scared that Billy would see him and turn back to his old ways and hurt him again, he was scared that he’d turn back to his old ways and hurt himself again.

Because he’d been hurt enough already.

Steve successfully avoided Billy until parent teacher conferences had rolled around, and instead of seeing Amy’s mom on the list of names he’d be seeing that day, it was Billy’s.

Steve would be lying if he didn’t think about calling in sick and sending his TA in his place. But he still had to be her teacher for another six months, he just had to get the interaction over with.

Many of the parents that came before Billy had to have known he was on edge about something considering he excessively tapped the table with the eraser of his pencil and stuttered his way through conversations. His organized folders and notes of talking points had been entirely thrown out the window and he was an absolute nervous wreck. And he could only anticipate it being ten times worse when the cause of said anxiety walked through his door with the long hair and the leather jacket. It was only with the help of the little girl in the sunflower dress and daisies in her hair skipping from the entrance to the chair in front of him that calmed his nerves just a bit.

But Billy had just stayed at the door, no movement, and any hope that Steve had that perhaps his new haircut and the glasses on his face would be enough to keep Billy from noticing the obvious vanished when Billy snapped his fingers like the lightbulb in his head finally flickered on.

“I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence.”

Steve just held out his hand to shake like he did with any other parent, unsure how to gage the situation because Billy’s words could go either way and his facial expressions didn’t give him anything to go off of. It would be weird to introduce himself, he didn’t know what to say.

“Hi, I’m Amy’s teacher. Should we start?”

Billy looked a little confused, but he sat down in the little kindergartener chairs anyway. This meeting was almost more organized than the ones prior, likely because he was trying to go as quickly as possible and get it over with. Steve showed Billy some of her artwork and commented on how her reading comprehension was great but she could work on her spelling a little more. He didn’t want to bring it up, but he brought up the crying and it hurt to see how him bringing it up set her off again. The same bowing of the head and quiet sniffles into her sleeve.

But Steve thinks he just fell in love a little watching Billy comfort her. With one hand rubbing circles into her back and the other holding her small hand. Steve feels like shit watching her cry because of him and is also semi-fearful for his life because he already knows he can’t take Billy in a fight.

“Baby, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with crying. It’s okay.”

“You’re dad’s right Amy. I think it’s very healthy. Crying is good for you.”

She looks up at Steve with those big blue eyes and tear stained cheeks when he says that.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah! I’d say it even makes you more mature. Even some adults I know don’t let themselves cry and it’s not good.”

“My daddy cries a lot too.”

Steve looks at Billy who’s eyes widen when she says it, then tries to laugh it off like she didn’t just say that.

“Hey Amy, you wanna go and play while your daddy and I talk for a minute?”

She just nods her head and wipes away her remaining tears and quickly hauls the bucket of Lincoln Logs off the shelf.

“So. It’s been a while. Hasn’t it?” Steve starts.

“Yeah it has. So, you’re a teacher now.”

“And you’re a father. That’s crazy.” Steve was fiddling with his hands, trying to make the conversation less awkward. “She’s wonderful by the way.”

“Yeah. She doesn’t get it from me.”

Steve just shakes his head. “No. I don’t think that’s true. She has your charisma, and it appears you found a better way of channeling your emotions since last we saw each other. She’s a lot like you.”

“Thanks.” Billy blushed. He actually blushed. “I don’t know if this is allowed considering you’re her teacher, but would you want to catch up sometime? Maybe dinner or something?”

There it was. That was the olive branch. And Steve would be an absolute fool not to take it.

“I’d love to.”

Before they could come up with a time or a place, Amy was running over to the table with loudly stomping feet.

“I almost forgot! Daddy! show Mr. Harrington what I brought him!”

Billy reached into his pocket upon her demand and pulled out a little bracelet made out of little daisies and honeysuckle and handed it over to Steve.

“Thank you Amy! It’s lovely.”

“Daddy show him yours!”

Steve looked to Billy’s wrist where he slowly lifted his sleeve to reveal an almost exact replica to the bracelet in his hand.

“Looks like we’re matching.”

#harringrove #stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #harringroveapril #this one will probably get a part 2 but who knows #it got too long and I ran out of time !!

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Note

hi! I hope you’re having a great day! I really like how you write the cubs dynamic and I wanted to ask if you could write some fluffy o’knutzy smut?

Hi! I had a lovely day. I hope you have too!

Thank you so much for your kind words :D

A rare turn of events, I was struggling to write the smut for this so its basically two thousand words of Leo simping for his boys (and food). I hope you enjoy it anyway!

CW: Food (oh so much food) and Sex.

Rating: M

Leo, Logan and Finn are original characters created by the lovely @lumosinlove. I love these boys and you should too. Go check out her writing to see more of them!

"Je vouidrais duex baguettes, sil vous plait," Finn asked, showing the vendor two fingers. The words were stilted and barely comprehensible, but even from a short distance away Leo could see the pride spilling off of him. The vendor gestured to the array of breads in front of her. Leo saw her mouth moving, but he couldn't quite make out what she was saying. Whatever it was made Finn's eyes widen in panic.

Leo watched Logan place a reassuring hand in the small of Finn's back. It was pleasant to not be so on guard all the time. They hadn't abandoned caution completely, but at least there was some element of anonymity here. Preoccupied with the small gesture, Leo missed whatever interaction had happened. It seemed any falter in communication had been repaired now, Finn handing over the required euros with a beaming smile.

"Merci! Bonne journée," Finn's grin stayed in place as he slipped the two baguettes in a cloth bag and he clutched his hard earned purchases to his chest.

The vendor shared a laugh with Logan. Leo noted that she looked younger than the other stall-holders, barely older than himself, and the smile appeared to slice another few years off. He couldn't help but imagine himself in her position. Not here, but in New Orleans. An array of freshly caught seafood on offer: crab and lobsters and oysters. Another life. Maybe better. Maybe worse. Definitely different.

He shook himself out of the thought, looking up to see Finn and Logan heading towards him. Logan threw his hand up in a wave, despite the fact, they had been apart for less than ten minutes. His skin had tanned, a few shades darker than normal, his hair grown out long enough that it was beginning to curl. Leo knew he would cut it soon; Logan hated the feel of it brushing the name of his neck, but he'd enjoy it while it lasted.

"Hey," Leo asked once they were nearer, "How'd it go?"

"Fish continues to bastardise the French language, but I'll forgive him because he's hot," Logan shrugged.

"No fucking baguettes for you," Finn huffed.

"I was joking, of course," Logan bumped his shoulder against Finn's. "We'll get you fluent yet."

"I want your French in France accent. It's sexier than your French in Canada accent."

"Excusez-moi! My accent is always sexy."

Leo let the two of them banter, listening on with an easy smile. He tugged the second of the traditional market baskets from Logan's hand, their acquisitions making it much weightier than when Leo had last had hold of it, and inclined his head in the direction of the Tremblay's townhouse.

"Yeah, let's go home," Logan agreed.

Leo led the way back, the route familiar after a week of being here. Finn and Logan occasionally drew him into their playful argument for his opinion, but mostly he just replayed the day in his head.

After a breakfast of fresh croissants and coffee, the three of them had ventured down to the beach. Leo didn't want to objectify his boyfriends, but a topless, sweaty Finn and Logan playing volleyball had definitely been a highlight of the morning. Having worked up an appetite, Logan showed them a tiny restaurant nestled into the houses on a side street. Mr. Ollivander, with his white hair and shaking hands, served them an absolutely sublime lunch of ratatouille and grilled tuna. Mopping up the last of his sauce with a hunk of bread, Leo had attempted to charm his way into getting the recipe but alas, the old man was immune. He had, however, recommended the market stall which sold the quiche currently weighing down Leo's basket, so he couldn't be too begrudging. Even though they hadn't made plans for evening yet, Leo was sure whatever happened it would be the icing on top of the metaphorical cake.

The walk back was short, no more than ten minutes. With the markets to the west, and the beach an equal distance away in the opposite direction, the house's location was ideal. However, it was built into the cliffs, and hauling groceries up the cascade of steps in the heat always left Leo hot and clammy. Finn didn't seem to mind; as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, he abandoned the baguettes to the sideboard and draped himself over Leo's back.

"I missed you."

Leo laughed, spinning around so they were face to face, Finn's arms wrapped around him. "I've been with you all day."

"Yeah, but he hasn't been able to do this." Logan drew up onto his tip-toes, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Leo's mouth. Logan seemed to give off a lighter air here in Nice, or perhaps it was the two bottles of wine they'd shared over lunch.

"Hey! Stealing my kisses," Finn protested, furrowing his brow into a mock frown and pressing his lips to the same spot as Logan.

"Alright, alright," Leo laughed. "No need to fight boys, there is plenty of me to go around." He rested his forehead against Finn's, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Finn smelt like the gingerbread syrup he used in his coffee, no matter what time of year it was, and Leo didn't want to let him go. The basket was beginning to feel heavy by his side though. "First I need you to let me put this thing down before my arm falls off."

Finn grumbled, but after another quick kiss he reluctantly let Leo pull away.

***

Leo was ushered from the small kitchen, Finn and Logan insistent on putting the shopping away for once.

Alone in the living room, Leo took the opportunity to look around again. It seemed that no matter how much he snooped he still found himself discovering new things. The bookcase, a grand antique, was an endless source of treasures. There were dog eared comics, a yellow sun hat that was probably small enough to fit Katie Dumais, and a wristband from the local aquarium, faded with age. They were just ordinary objects, left behind over years of vacations, but each one gave Leo an additional piece to the Tremblay family puzzle.

A mismatch of frames dominated the shelves. Leo browsed, his fingers settling on one that was slightly out of focus. A baby Logan was red faced, squirming in his sister Aubrey's arms, their mother reaching out to take him. Someone had penned the words 'The reality of it" underneath in an elegantly scripted hand.

Aubrey had her own child now, a daughter named Cordelia. She and baby Logan looked remarkably similar.

"Peanut!"

Leo jolted, almost knocking over the entire shelf.

"Sorry," Finn apologised, nudging Leo's shoulder gently. "I called you a few times. What's got you all up the stars, huh?"

Leo glanced at Finn, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. "Just thinking of Lo in uncle mode." He swore Finn's eyes dilated as he splayed the back of his hand across his forehead, pretending to swoon.

"Yeah, okay. I'll give you that one," Finn laughed.

"Don't you know it's rude to talk about people behind their back."

Logan's voice took Leo by surprise again, but his reaction was somewhat more restrained this time. "Are you two trying to give me a heart attack today?"

"I can think of more fun ways to get your heart rate up," Logan said, his tone a little cheeky as he sidled up behind Leo, pushing his hands under the hem of his shirt. His thumbs massaged slow circles into Leo's skin and he pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. Leo gave a low moan, leaning back into the ministrations.

"Is this what you want to do with your evening?" Leo chuckled, although he wasn't doing much to dissuade Logan's actions.

Finn made a show of checking his watch. "Seems like a perfect time to go to bed."

"It's 4pm," Leo quipped.

"You wanted to rollerblade along the promenade tomorrow, right? I read that it was like 4 miles each way. We'll need all the rest we can get."

Rest. Leo rolled his eyes, his smile betraying his amusement. "You can just ask if you want to have sex."

"We were trying to be romantic," Logan said, his words muffled against Leo's back.

"Oh, my bad," Leo drawled, straightening up a little. Logan, ever the limpet, moved with him. "I'm ready to be romanced now."

"You're the worst," Finn laughed, the unrestrained joy was one of Leo's favourite sounds. "Leonardo Knuttius, if you would do us the honour of allowing us to rock your world, we would very much appreciate it."

Logan snorted, his grip loosening on Leo's hips. "What he said."

Leo blinked a few times, unable to think of words suitable enough to respond to the absurdity that had just left Finn's mouth. "I'll pretend you didn't say that," he pursed him lips, allowing himself to be tugged in the direction of the bedroom.

***

Leo whined, low in the back of throat as Finn sank into him. He tilted his head back, hands grasping at Finn to pull him into a kiss.

Logan panted, pushing back against Leo. "Fuck me."

"Always so impatient," Leo chuckled. He meant to tease Logan a little longer, but Finn fucked into him and Leo knew Logan could feel every bit of it.

The three of them were adventurous, they enjoyed experimenting with different positions. Sometimes the results were spectacular. Sometimes they ended up laughing too much to get anywhere. But, this, Finn fucking into him, whilst he fucked Logan. It would always hold a special place in Leo's heart. They were smoother now. Logan could hold off his orgasm better now - if he wanted to. But it would always be reminiscent of that first time together.

They rocked together, grasping at every spot of skin they could. A roll of Finn's hips. The squeeze of Logan's ass. Finn finished last as always, spilling down Leo's throat. Logan kissed him afterwards, his tongue seeking out Finn's taste. They lay together, chests heaving until one of their stomach rumbled. They all denied it, but each of them admitted to being able to eat something.

***

It felt a bit like of an injustice to the quiche to be eating it like this, all sweaty and riding the high of their orgasms. Or perhaps, this was exactly how the cook wanted it to be experienced; woven into love.

"Stop it, you're going to get crumbs on the bed," Leo reprimanded Finn who was leaning across him, a slice of the tart balancing precariously in his hand.

"I won't, it'll be cute," Finn argued. He smushed the quiche into Logan's mouth, less romantic, and more reminiscent of a cake smash. Inevitably, the pastry flaked all over the sheets. Finn glanced at the mess, then looked up at Leo, smiling impishly, "I'll clean that up, I promise."

Leo felt warmth. A different kind of warmth to that of the sun beating down on him. This one seemed to radiate from the inside outward. It was the kind that occurred when you knew that your boyfriends were idiots. And that still, you loved them very, very much.

#logan tremblay #finn o'hara #leo knut #sweater weather #lumosinlove #rating:m #cw:food #cw: sex #18+

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Crown For Two {3}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Slow Burn, Tease, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 7.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride continues. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} |

Chapter Three

-Y/N-

When you opened your eyes again, your head felt a lot different. It wasn’t spinning. It didn’t feel congested, heavy, or muddled. You saw everything with clear eyes, alert eyes. Glancing around the room, you took in your surroundings like it was your first time, though you were sure it wasn’t. Closing your eyes, you tried to remember everything that had happened. You remembered walking through the streets, taking pictures, and even watching the locals go about their business. You also remembered going into a bar and drinking that god awful drink.

When you remembered seeing Henry’s face, you couldn’t help but smile. Your conversation played over and over in your head and how easy it was to talk to one another. Even his smile and goofy laugh had you snuggling deeper into the plush bedding. He was definitely attractive. All of a sudden, the accident flashed into mind. You’d been struggling with the wind and the snow and couldn’t see not even two inches in front of you. The pain of being hit was absent. It was like it happened so fast that you were out cold before your pain receptors could adequately translate it.

You bolted up as the words “prince” and “your highness” echoed in your head.

“Shit, he’s a prince.”

You rubbed your forehead, then pinched the bridge of your nose. Of course he is, you thought. Why would you meet some normal person in this clear fairytale country? Leaning against the headboard, you chewed your bottom lip, beginning to wonder about several other things. One of them was your exchange in the bar. He clearly knew who he was. You were not naïve when it came to the attention of men. There was evident flirting going on.

“Was he trying to charm me into being some royal conquest?”

Before you could think on the topic any further, there was a knock at the door. You sat up straighter while trying to figure out the right way to sit. You lied back casually but decided that was too casual. You then straightened your back and took note of how your breasts were accentuated thanks to the proper posture.

“Too much,” you whispered, slouching again.

The knock came again.

“Ma’am?”

Shaking your head, you sighed and said, forget it. You had no idea how to answer, so you said the first thing to come to mind.

“You may enter.” You didn’t know why you decided to add an uppity British accent. Slapping your hand to your head, you shook it, already tired of your own shenanigans.

When you looked, it was the doctor you’d seen the night before.

“Good morning, ma’am.”

You gave him a polite smile as he approached with his black doctor’s bag.

“How are you feeling today. Better, I hope.”

“Much, thank you.”

He nodded, then placed his bag on the bedside table.

“How did you sleep? Any pain?”

“No—well, not severe pain. I’m just mainly sore.”

Dr. Alfonsi. nodded. “You can take aspirin for those aches. They should subside in another few days, as will the bruises.”

You nodded again.

“May I begin my examination?”

Giving him a demure smile as permission, he approached and began doing all the things a doctor would at the beginning of any appointment. He took your blood pressure, checked your reflexes and your temperature. He examined your eyes, listened to your heart, followed along with your pulse and respiration, all the while taking diligent notes on his phone that he held in the breast pocket of his white coat.

Ten or so minutes later, he closed his bag and then brought over one of the chairs in the room. Once he sat, he softly clapped his hands together.

“And that is that. I am pleased your vitals are appearing better and better. Are you feeling the return of your strength?”

“Not really,” you confessed.

“As I explained yesterday, I had concerns from the results of a few blood tests I did. Did you know that you have several vitamin deficiencies?”

Your eyebrows quirked. “Uh—n—no. I didn’t. What do you mean?”

“Well, in an effort to provide a most comprehensive recovery plan for you, as I do with every patient I see in the royal family and elsewhere. I ran a full panel of tests and came back with several alarming finds. You have a deficiency of vitamin B12, Vitamins D, and E, you’re severely low in Iron and Folate. Have you ever been diagnosed with Anemia?”

Your head swarmed with all the words and letters he’d just flung at you.

“Uh—no. I don’t think so.”

“I am diagnosing it now.”

You watched his mouth move as he explained the dangers of the deficiencies and listed the symptoms one would expect, which all coincided with what you’d felt on and off for some time. The explanation seemed to go on and on. With every word Dr. Alfonsi. spoke, your breathing sped more and more. He must have seen the terror on your face because he reached out and took your hand.

“It’s all right, dear. Though it is not as soon as I would have liked, we caught it. we now know that there is a serious problem.”

“I—I didn’t know. I mean, I guess I’ve been busy these last few months and on the go, but—I never--,” you trailed off.

“Calm down. It’s easy to fall behind on our health, but it is important we catch up. In order to do that, you’re going to have to make some changes.”

“What kind of changes?”

“Lifestyle and occupational. You’re going to need to change your diet, incorporate the therapies and medicines I will be prescribing, as well as taking it significantly easier than I suspect you have in the past,” Dr. Alfonsi explained.

“Taking it easy? What exactly does that mean?”

“Well, I mild cases I’ve seen in my years, I’ve recommended a month of strict relaxation along with what I’ve said before. That meant decreased hours at work, perhaps a sabbatical, bed rest until the patient begins to regain strength to prevent chances of falling and bone breakage.”

“Bed rest?”

“Yes, and that’s just for mild cases. Your case, I’m afraid, is a lot more serious. While I recommended it for others, for you, I would have to insist.”

You sat up, giving him a look that said he was crazy.

“I can’t go on bed rest. That’s not just decreased hours; that is complete incapacitation,” you protested.

“I can understand your alarm, but that is how serious your situation is, ma’am.”

“God, please stop calling me ma’am. My name is Xari.”

“Ms. Xari,” he corrected.

Several moments passed in silence. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, you hadn’t gone to the doctor in almost two years and didn’t take multivitamins and oftentimes forgot to eat, but you worked out, ate your greens—sometimes, and experienced plenty of holistic activities throughout the world. You had no idea you were in this bad shape.

“Do you understand what I am saying, Ms. Xari? If you do not make drastic changes for the foreseeable future, you may not see the blooming of spring flowers.”

Your jaw dropped. He was laying on pretty thick, but it was working. You were alarmed. Sighing, you rubbed your forehead.

“What exactly do you suggest then?”

“What you’re doing now, bed rest. I will communicate with the staff your dietary needs for the coming weeks as well as instructions for your medication--.”

“Wait, hold up. What? You don’t mean for me to stay here, do you?”

Dr. Alfonsi looked at you as if you were missing a few screws.

“Yes.”

You flung your hands out. “Nope. Absolutely not. I can’t stay here.”

“Why not? I am more than sure the prince would allow you to remain here until you are fully recovered, especially seeing it was his highness’ royal car that hit you for us to discover your ailments.”

“No. I can’t stay here. I don’t—I’m a stranger to these people. I am—there’s no way. I can’t ask him or anyone here to wait on me.”

Dr. Alfonsi smiled. “I understand your apprehension, believe me, I do, but it is unnecessary. I have known the prince since he was a child. He is a kind man and would never dare turn someone who is in need and sick away. You will be safe here.”

Hearing how highly he spoke of his prince piqued your curiosity. It could have been one of those things where one’s subjects loved them so dearly they had not one bad word to say about them, or one’s subjects fears them so much that they didn’t dare utter one negative thing about them. You wondered which was the real story. Perhaps a little in the middle, you thought.

Sighing, you leaned your head on the headboard, still adamant you didn’t want to stay here.

“I have a life to get back to. I’ve already been here for two days too long.”

“Two days?”

The question in his voice had your head snapping to him. You cautiously opened your mouth to speak. “Yes,” you squeaked.

“No. I’m afraid it’s been more than two days. It’s been a week since you’ve been here, Ms. Xari.”

Your eyes bugged, and you instantly began searching for your phone.

“What are you looking for?”

“My things. Where are my things? My phone?”

Dr. Alfonsi looked around the room then walked to a large wardrobe before he came back with your purse. You unintentionally snatched it from him, digging through it for the desired object. Once you had it, you discovered it was dead.

“Fuck.”

You began trying to get off the bed, but as soon as you stood, you dropped back to the bed, your legs unable to hold you.

“I would caution against doing too much too soon. I’m impressed you were able to attempt an escape once. I doubt you’d be successful a second time.”

“I need my charger. Where are my things? I’ve been off the grid for a week. I have family, people who will worry. I need—need--.”

Your chest pounded so fast you could barely catch your breath. As you struggled to get a full breath, you began to panic. Dr. Alfonsi was to you on the other side of the bed in seconds, checking your pulse and instructing you to breathe slowly and deeply. You would if you could and wished you could shout that to him. Before you knew it, darkness was all you saw.

~~~~~~~~

When you opened your eyes, you were again tucked in the bed, but you were now hooked up to an IV. You took a deep breath and noted the heaviness that resided in your chest. Groaning, you slowly sat up. Once rested against the headboard, you remembered your mission. Your phone. Kicking off the covers, you used the rolling IV rod as if it were a cane and stood on wobbly legs. After a full minute, you began moving though every step you took felt like you’d fall to the floor.

What should have taken you seconds took minutes. The steps proved to be more challenging to maneuver with the IV stand. You searched the room, but you didn’t see your luggage. That was when you saw your phone plugged into a charger on the nightstand to the left of the bed. You wobbled toward it then quickly unlocked it. Feeling yourself shake even more, you used the wall as your brace as you scrolled through. You saw the bounty of missed calls, unanswered messages, and emails of alarm. As expected, everyone was worried to death about you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You found your sister’s number and dialed it. It didn’t ring; instead, it went to voicemail. Your frustration was evident as you knocked over the small glass figurine on the bedside table. You ignored the shattered pieces and grabbed the IV pole, ready to walk out of the room in search of your things. Once you opened the door, your jaw dropped, seeing another luxurious room similar to the bedroom but decked in different colors.

You took one then two steps, and your knees gave out. Before you tumbled to the floor, you heard a shriek and your name being shouted; then you were in someone’s arms. You looked up into blue eyes that were framed by long lashes and thick eyebrows.

“Are you all right?”

You snorted. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” you teased with a soft smile. It was a smile Henry returned.

“I cannot make any promises.”

Henry then lifted you into his strong arms and carried you where you’d just come from. As he held you, you couldn’t help but glance over the side of his face that was perfectly in view. If you thought his jaw was chiseled to perfection before, now—you were certain there was not even one flaw about it. When he placed you back in the bed, he hovered over you for a few seconds. They were seconds that felt like minutes, especially with the intensity you saw in his eyes.

“Xari.”

Tearing your eyes from his, you glanced to your left to see Anika, your sister.

“Nika!”

She leaped onto the bed and scurried across to you, then threw her arms around you.

“Oh my god. What’re you doing here!? How’d you get here?”

“I’ve been so worried! I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Relief filled you, and you found yourself relaxing a little more.

“I don’t get it. How are you?”

Anika pulled back with a wide smile on her face. She looked up, bringing your eyes to the man who still stood beside the bed. His arms were crossed across his chest, and a soft smile decorated his lips.

“Him. He’s how I’m here.”

You were still confused, and you knew your expression showed it.

“I couldn’t reach you. I called and called and no answer. A few days ago, I got a call back, and it was the prince,” Anika began giving you a wide-eyed look when she said, “prince.”

“Henry, please, I insist.”

Anika smiled and actually giggled before she continued. “Henry. He explained everything and kept me in the loop with your condition. Because of that damn storm, I couldn’t get here. He ended up sending the royal jet for me once the storm passed enough to bring me here, so you’d have someone with you.”

Wow, you thought, letting all she’d said register. He’d done a lot. You slipped your eyes to him and found them on you.

“He’s been very kind, Ri,” Anika added.

You were speechless. What were you supposed to say? Clearing your throat, you said the first thing you thought of.

“Thank you.”

Henry nodded and held your gaze. “It was done for you alone and with you in mind.”

Well, shit, you thought, unable to take your eyes off of his. After a few moments, you heard Anika clear her throat, and it was Henry who looked away first.

“Right. I was bringing your sister here for you to see. Now that you have her, I will give the staff instructions to see whatever the two of you will need for your stay.”

“Uh—about that. It won’t be necessary,” you piped up.

“Excuse me?”

His intimidating aura increased, making you feel like a disobedient little whose daddy was about to punish her. At that comparison, you had a quick thought about whether or not he was a vanilla prince or one with plenty of shades of grey. Straightening your back, you held your head higher.

“While I appreciate all you’ve done for me thus far, it won’t be necessary for you or your staff to fuss over my sister or me any longer. We’ll be leaving.”

Henry cocked his head to the right, then tightly clenched his jaw.

“Is that right?”

“Why are we leaving?”

Ignoring Anika’s question, you decided not to look away from Henry feeling a challenge in how he looked at you.

“According to Dr. Alfonsi, you’re in no shape to be going anywhere.” He nodded to your IV pole for emphasis.

“I will stay at the inn that is in town or a hotel.”

“Nonsense. It was my fault you were hurt, and my responsibility to rectify the damage and harm I have caused.”

“He’s right, Xari. It’s his fault, and you should let him accrue the expenses,” Anika voiced.

“Nika!”

“What! He’s a prince, Ri. He got it,” she replied a little under her breath but still loud enough for him to hear.

“I must agree with Lady Anika.”

Anika snorted and laughed. “I’m definitely not a lady.”

Henry smirked at her then quickly looked back to you. “I must insist you remain here. At least until Dr. Alfonsi has given you the seal of good health. I am afraid if you were to go anywhere, something would happen to you, and I would not be able to forgive myself.”

You studied him for a few moments, taking in the expression on his face as well as the tight clench of his jaws. Your eyes moved down to his still folded arms and the muscles that bulged because of his stance. He was definitely overwhelming like this, and though you hated to feel like a bother, you suspected that here was the best place for now. Glancing to Anika, she gave you a stern eye that said, “just give in already.”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Fine, but only until I’m well enough.”

“If that is your wish, just know you are welcomed here for however long you wish.”

“My goodness, such a gentleman. They sure breed them differently here, huh sis.”

Henry smiled, then glanced at Anika. “Everything is different here in Brexendor.”

“I bet,” Anika finished.

“Since it is settled, I will proceed to advise the staff. Dr. Alfonsi has already given several strict dietary orders as well as health orders. If there is anything you require do not hesitate to speak it. Lady Anika, I have already instructed a bedroom be prepared for you, but I will instruct it be as close to your sister as possible.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded, then looked back at you. “I sincerely hope you feel better soon.”

“Are you leaving?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I am afraid I have quite a lot to do today. By all means, though, feel free to go where you please. My home is yours, ladies.”

With that, he curtly bowed his head then walked toward the door. Before he walked out, he stopped.

“Oh, Xari, try not to escape again. I cannot guarantee I will always be there to catch you.”

You saw the hint of a smile on his lips and instantly knew he was teasing you.

“Somehow, your highness, I suspect you will magically appear at the mere hint of a faint.”

He chuckled to himself then walked out, closing the doors behind him. Once alone, Anika wasted no time.

“Holy fucking shit, he is hot as fuck!”

You snorted and laughed as you relaxed into the bed.

“Wonderful censor you have there, Nika.”

“Fuck censor.”

“Well, that last time I said fuck here, I was looked at like I was the most uncouth Neanderthal. I suggest you keep your fucks to a minimum.”

Anika bounced you. “Will you be able to keep your fucks to a minimum?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Anika rolled her eyes. “Whatever! The air hasn’t even gotten a chance to come back down from the sweltering levels your guys’ flirting raised it to.”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me! There was no flirting.”

“Yes, there was, and it was not on your side alone. He was flirting with you too. What in the world is going on? I need the whole story without even the smallest detail left out.”

You sighed then proceeded to tell her the whole sordid tale. As instructed, you didn’t leave anything out. You even told her about that exchange between you and Henry before you walked out of the bar. At the end of story time, Anika had a huge grin on her face.

“What are you grinning at?”

“You. Leave it to you to get whisked away by a prince and have him fall; for you in record time.”

“No, no, no. Falling? Nika, you’re imagining things. He hasn’t fallen for anyone. He’s a prince, for crying out loud. They don’t fall for anyone, let alone some commoner. Have you never watched The Crown?”

Anika snorted and dropped to the bed at your feet.

“First of all, The Crown is whack. Second of all, this is not England. This place is fantastic. It’s like some Hallmark country where everything is beautiful, quaint, and perfect. You smiled and bit your bottom lip, agreeing fully.

“Third, I was sitting right here, listening to your banter. I think he could totally fall for you if he hasn’t already.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring everything she was saying. Anika loved to play matchmaker, though you hated every time she did it.

“You’re practically in his bed. We just have to get you there.”

You rolled your eyes again, shocked at how quickly she’d gotten there. “Okay, down, girl. According to this doctor, I’m falling apart, Nika. Any bed I’ll be in for a while is this one.”

“Well, now you have me here to encourage you to lap up the luxury and hospitality of his highness the prince of Brexendor. Get the fuck outta here!”

The two of you laughed loudly. This situation you’d found yourself into was the most ridiculous one either of you could have ever begun to imagine.

A few hours later, you found yourself alone while Anika settled in her room. Another knock sounded at your door. Being unable to open it yourself, you instructed them to come in. Once the doors opened in walked a beautiful girl about your age with long black hair and features similar to Henry’s. In your head, you suspected she was a family member. She smiled sweetly as she approached you. When she was by your bedside, she dropped onto the mattress.

“Hi.”

You returned her warm smile. “Hi.”

“My god, you are beautiful.”

You snorted, then pinched your lips together, trying to suppress your laugh. She was insane. You looked the worst you’d ever looked.

“You’re being kind. I haven’t showered in a week and only today got to comb my hair. You’re being very, very kind.”

She giggled but still looked genuine.

“I’m Jemma,” she said, holding her hand out to you. Once you took it, and instantly noted how soft they were.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I have been trying to get here to introduce myself, but Henry told me to stay away so you could acclimate. Otherwise, I would have been here much sooner.”

You smiled and assured her it was fine.

“How are you doing?”

You shrugged. “I guess I’m okay.”

She didn’t look convinced and took you in for a few moments. “I’m sure my brother has brought all the best doctors for your care and has thought of everything that would ensure your comfort. With that treatment, I expect you to make a full recovery in no time.”

“Brother.”

“Yes. Please tell me you did not think I was his girlfriend or something of the sort.”

She looked disgusted, which made you laugh.

“No. I suspected a family member. So you’re a princess.”

Jemma rolled her eyes as she sighed out as if she was already tired of the conversation.

“Yes, but I promise it is not nearly as glamourous as you’re thinking. The only nice thing about it is the diamonds, everything else, eh.”

You smiled, already liking her. she gave off an air that said she didn’t take herself seriously and even liked to have a bit of fun more times than not.

“The staff is all abuzz with news that you will be residing with us for the next few weeks. Henry has told them to cater to your every whim, and because it came from him, everyone is in a tizzy over it, prepping to ensure you are at your most comfortable,” Jemma explained.

“What. No, that’s not what I want at all. They don’t have to go all out.”

“It’s okay.”

“No. then everyone will think I’m some prissy thing who likes to be waited on when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Jemma took you for a little while, then took your hand and squeezed it gently.

“Not to worry, Xari. I assure you no one will think that.”

You sighed then tried to forget it because it was too late to change whether or not they thought it. You were sure everyone was already whispering about you and Anika, the two Americans who’d somehow found their way into the palace.

“Also, we are not as gossip centered as other monarchies. I promise,” Jemma added, raising her hand as if to swear it.

When she sensed you relaxed, she proceeded to ask a plethora of questions about you, ranging from where you were from to what you did and the all-important if you were single. You felt like you were on a modern-day “Who Wants to be Friends With a Princess” tv show. With every fact, you revealed she revealed a similar one and so on. After an hour, you found that you had plenty in common, something that was shocking for you.

When Anika came back, the party really stated. Your laughter picked up, as did the stories that Jemma revealed about royal life. Those stories prompted Anika to tell stories of life as a commoner in America as she called it. The only thing was her stories we mainly all about partying, dating, and men. With each story, Jemma’s eyes widened, and you felt like slowly Anika would end up corrupting her.

“Nika, stop. You’re going to have her on an episode of Princesses Gone Wild,” you joked, which had both of them in stitches on your bed.

“I will have you know that I am not some innocent wallflower. I know things,” Jemma countered.

You couldn’t help but laugh loudly. Just the way she said that told you she didn’t know very many things. That was when Jemma proceeded to list the names of the men she’d dated, a list of three men. Anika was the one to ask the nature of these relationships, to which Jemma said she knew in great detail the kind of underwear each man wore. You lost it right then and there, dropping onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

Exhaustion caught you off guard, dampening the mood of the night. Jemma assured you that she’d keep Anika company and show her around to give you time to take a nap. After thanking her, the two women walked out of your room, leaving you to silence. Once the door closed, it opened again. this time it was the woman named Audrina.

“Good evening, ma’am. Is there anything I can bring you?”

“No. I’m all right.”

She nodded, then closed the door leaving you again. You quickly drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~

-Henry-

He’d never met anyone quite as beautiful as you. he remembered when you’d walked into the bar and sat down beside him like you were right where you were supposed to be. You had no idea that the bar was empty because it was closed for him to be there, had no idea that he was not some ordinary citizen. He liked being a no one, especially if it meant he could sit there with you all night. He remembered wanting just that. If his phone hadn’t run, if he’d had more time, he probably would have tried to hold your hand. If he’d had more time, he would have gotten himself into an even bigger predicament than he was now—attracted to a woman he knew better than to touch.

Slowly he looked over the features of your face and took in each detail. He pressed the elements of your face to his memory so he could call on them when he was alone, buried in work. A sigh escaped him as a lite feeling filled him. It was an unfamiliar one. He wanted to touch you. It was an urge that was so strong he almost couldn’t overpower it—almost. He balled his fist and sat back in the settee beside your bed, trying to ignore the feelings that washed over him.

“Remember yourself,” he whispered before he looked back to the work he’d brought with him when he’d decided to pay you a quick visit.

This quick visit was an hour ago. When he found you asleep, he should have turned around and left, but he couldn’t. He intended to sit here for a few minutes, ten tops, but he still had yet to tear himself away. He mustered what was left of his control and focused on the screen before him and tried to write his speech for the new world bank’s upcoming opening.

This was one of his father’s pet projects, and he was filled with pride to see it to fruition, but also it made him miss the man more. Sighing, he closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples. Every time he thought of his father in the last few months, it brought him added stress. It was this stress that prevented him from sleeping longer than four hours a night.

“Christ,” he whispered.

“Are you all right?”

Jerking his head up, he saw you awake with your head still atop the pillow. You looked like a dream, or perhaps his best nightmare.

“I am sorry. Was I too loud?”

“No. I um—just happened to open my eyes.”

You slowly sat up, allowing the blanket to fall from your chest to your lap. As you adjusted yourself, he moved his laptop to the other side of the settee.

“You didn’t answer me, though. Are you all right?”

A smile tugged at his lips, but he fought it. “Me? Should it not be me be asking you that?”

“Can’t we ask each other?”

He studied you for a few moments, then nodded. “I am fine.”

“Liar.”

His jaw dropped, half shocked you would go there. There weren’t many people in his life that would dare.

“I take it no one calls his highness a liar,” you teased.

“You take it right. Maybe Jemma or my mother on occasion and a few of my friends but not many.”

You smiled, then shrugged. “I call em’ like I see em.’”

He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Pray tell, what gave me away to make you insult me so?”

Your smile widened before you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, bringing his eyes right there. He adjusted in the seat he sat and waited for you to continue.

“Your eyes are red, under your eyes puffy, and one doesn’t just say Christ to say Christ.”

You had him there. He pushed his fist under his chin and continued to watch you.

“So you are implying I look bad.”

You smirked then, and he picked up the change in the air.

“I mean, I’m sure I look the same as you. So take comfort in that.”

A chuckle escaped him. “So that is a yes; I do look bad.”

You looked at him but didn’t answer.

“I will take that as a yes on my part. however, regarding you, you look far from bad.”

You snorted then laughed, and it was the most shockingly endearing sound. It wasn’t a laugh he would hear from others in his company. Their laughs would be all dignified, but yours was genuine. It was also downright terrifying, but he preferred it.

“Now I know you’re a liar. I look absolutely disgusting. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this, but I haven't showered in a week.”

He pinched his lips, hiding his smile. You looked so uncomfortable admitting that.

“Oh my.” He placed his hand over his mouth as if the fact mortified him.

You pinched your lips.

“Please tell me you have at least brushed your teeth.”

“Today was the first day in just as much time.”

Again he put his hand over his mouth and widened his eyes for emphasis. “Appalling.”

You snorted again, and the delightful laugh came back. This time the laugh looked to encompass your entire being, and you glowed. When your laughter subsided, you dabbed at your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. He held out his handkerchief to you. When you took it, you used it to replace your fingers.

“Thank you.”

When you finished, you inspected the fabric, then looked at him.

“You must like your women disgusting to still be here.”

He shrugged.

“How are you feeling?”

“After that nap, I’m feeling well.”

That made him happy.

“Are you feeling well enough for some dinner?”

“Uh—I was told I’m to stay in bed.”

“Yes, Dr. Alfonsi has informed me and the staff as well. That is why--,” he began before walking across the room to the door.

Once he opened it, the staff rolled in three carts filled with platters, trays, and bowls of plenty. Once the carts were parked, he thanked the staff and let them see themselves out.

“Dinner is served.”

The look on your face said you didn’t know what to say, so he uncovered the treys finding the menu items he’d chosen for the meal.

“I was not sure what you liked, so I had them bring all of it.”

He took up a plate and brought it to you. It took a few moments for you to take it, but you did. That was when he went back for his to sit back on the settee.

“Also, do not feel as if you have to eat ladylike for me,” he began.

You took up your fork and shoved an overflowing fork full of mashed potatoes into your mouth, letting a small glob rest at the side of your mouth.

“What was that, your highness?”

That was all it took for his attraction to turn to yearning.

The two of you ate in silence for the most part. He asked you questions to get to know you better, and every new piece of information he found out only made him like you more and more. When you spoke about your career, he heard the passion in your voice, and it spoke to something in him. It had been a long time since he’d been around anyone who was genuinely passionate about the things they enjoyed. It stirred something in him, something he wasn’t quite ready to uncover.

“I am sorry that I did not tell you once we met who I was.”

You paused with your fork in your mouth.

“It’s okay. To be real, why would you reveal to a stranger your secret identity. That’s like Clark Kent walking around in his incognito glasses with an S on his chest. It defeats the purpose.”

“Clark Kent. Superman.”

“Yes, one of my favorite superheroes.”

A soft smile spread across his face before he nodded.

“What’s yours? Wonder Woman?”

He scoffed, then shook his head as he stood and approached the carts, ready for dessert. It wasn’t the Strawberry Cheesecake he truly desired, but it would have to do. When he returned to his seat, he placed your plate in front of you and sat.

“It’s Wonder Woman, huh, or maybe Poison Ivy, ooh, Catwoman.”

He sat there patiently, letting you list them off. He couldn’t help but wonder why those were chosen.

“Before I answer, can I ask why you chose them?”

He saw the mischievous glint twinkle in your eye as your lips quirked up into a smirk.

“Oh, this, I must hear.”

“No reason. They’re just seen as the most desirable by fanboy standards,” you responded while rolling with your eyes.

He suppressed a chuckle to put a piece of the cheesecake into his mouth.

“So?”

“None of those.”

“Oh, please do enlighten me,” you quipped.

Resting the fork on the side of the dish, he responded. “Nubia and Storm.”

He sat there and thoroughly enjoyed watching the emotions wash over your face. Shock was the first, then disbelief, and finally awe. Now you sat there assessing him as if you thought he was pranking you. He was not. You opened your mouth to say something, and he stopped you before you did.

“I suggest you do not repeat it. I assure you I am not.”

Your eyes darkened right at the moment you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth. Losing his train of thought and head for control, he put another piece of the cake into his mouth, licking the back of the fork. Your eyes lowered to his mouth and your teeth sunk into that delectable bottom lip. If he were a weaker man, he would have tossed the plate he held to the side and been on you in under five seconds, but he was not a weak man. As future King, weakness had no place in the monarchy.

Weakness was not an option until he saw you put the fork in your mouth to mirror his actions, only your tongue swirled around the teeth of the fork in a way that made his pants instantly too tight. Christ, help him.

He cleared his throat and changed his position on the couch to one that would hide your effect.

“Interesting. I didn’t expect those,” you stuttered.

“What did—what did you expect?”

You shrugged and toyed with the fork against your lips. “Something else, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

Your eyes met again, and the temptation he felt was somehow more than he’d ever felt. He wanted you. He’d wanted you since you cursed about how disgusting the drink was at the bar. The only thing was, this want had shifted.

“I am happy it is pleasantly.”

Again your eyes lingered, and he wanted nothing more than to give in to the heavy cloud of temptation that filled the room.

“What’re you working on?”

He cleared his throat again and straightened himself. “Uh—a speech. One of my father’s projects premiers in a few days, the first since his um—” he cleared his throat again. “Since his passing, and I am going to be the one to cut the ribbon on it.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Keeping his eyes turned downward, he nodded. The sincerity in your voice touched him. “Thank you.”

The silence between you stretched for a few seconds before you spoke again.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The speech, um—I do not know. It just does not feel right.”

“Want me to take a look?”

“Do you have an aptness for speeches?”

You placed your place to the side and adjusted your posture.

“Not speeches in general. I do have a knack for words. I’ve spent the last few years writing about the places I’ve gone in such a way that makes people want to go there themselves. I might know a little something, something.”

He smiled, put the plate beside him, and leaned forward to hand you his laptop. He watched as you read through the few paragraphs he’d already written and wondered what you thought of it. Every lift of your brow or nibble of your lip had him more and more curious as to the thoughts in your head. After a few minutes, you nodded.

“This isn’t bad. You sound like you’re on a good roll.”

“No critique?”

“How about you leave me with it for a day or two, and I’ll have some notes. Or, you could give it to your royal speechwriter.”

He chuckled. “What makes you think I have one of those?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Hello, this is a monarchy. I am sure the monarchy employs people to make sure their dear prince is always PC.”

You were right.

“I think I would rather leave it with you,” he replied, making you smile in the process.

“Okay. I’ll knock your socks off then.”

“You already have,” he said, standing to take your plate.

He tried to arrange the empty plates, dishes, and classes on the carts in a way that wouldn’t have them falling once they were moved.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?”

He turned in time to see you wobbling toward him, clutching the IV pole with one hand and a plate with the other. He saw your knees buckle and wrapped you in his arms, taking you to the bed in the process. With you underneath him, he couldn't deny how right this felt. Your breathing was heavy, your eyes bright and chest heaving. The way you were looking at him made his next move the only possible one.

He brought his lips toward yours but right before he claimed them, he hesitated. The tiny sliver of space between your lips made it easy to feel the literal electricity that sparked between you. He was so close, but so far, and he wanted to get closer. The fact that you didn’t look as if you objected to this made his blood bubble with desire even more than it had hours ago when he first walked in.

“I apologize,” he whispered before he pulled away from you with whatever ounce of strength he had remaining. He stood before you then held his hands out to you.

“Let me help you.”

You placed your hands in his letting him hoist you up. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you back to the side of the bed you’d been this entire time. When he eased you down, he spread the blanket over you and assured you were comfortable. Being sure to keep his eyes away from yours, he turned to his things and gathered them.

“I will let you get some rest. If Dr. Alfonsi found out I were here preventing that, he would give me a stern talk.”

“Thank you for this,” you said.

He took his laptop from your bed and nodded. “I will email it to you.”

“You have my email?”

“I am head of this country; I have multiple resources at my disposal,” he replied, smirking at you. Your smile said you fully understood his meaning and knew he was teasing. You understood him. Yet another thing to like about you, he thought. He quickly averted his eyes then gave you a slight head bow.

“Good night, Xari.”

“Good night, your highness.”

He walked toward the door and poked his head out to instruct the waiting staff to remove the carts. The walk back to his room was filled with several stops as he thought to go back, but when he realized he couldn’t, he carried on his way. He’d never been filled with so many conflicting wants and thoughts before, and he suspected as the coming weeks stretched, this would be just the tip of the iceberg.

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

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

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

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#crown for two fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x black ofc #black fanfiction #royalty au #henry cavill au #christmas fic #cheesy christmas fic

124 notes · View notes

craftypeaceturtle · 3 years

Text

Distanced, part 2

Summary: How are these useless students coping with life?

Note: This is a group chat fic, my first one so this might not be that good! Also this contains swearing. Eventual intrulogical.

Part 1 here!

MESSAGES: To Remus Prince (Presentation)

Friday, 13:02

Hello, sorry to interrupt, but I just want to ask where you gathering your sources? Are there any particular databases you’re using? Thank you.

Remus Prince: I’m just going through the read list.

The reading list? But that only has one text that could be anything remotely useful for this topic!

Remus Prince: ye but it’s a starting point

Remus Prince: like u can read it and then read whatever it references.

Are we allowed to do that?

Remus Prince: wha

Remus Prince: DUH!

Surely that must count as plagiarism or something of the sort. You can’t use someone else’s sources.

Remus Prince: u sound so stupid

Remus Prince: u’ll read the book it references and form ur own interpretation.

Remus Prince: u’ll get different quotes

Remus Prince: u’ll be using it for a different argument

Remus Prince: why would u not be allowed to read texts!

MESSAGES: To Remus Prince (Presentation)

Friday, 14:13

Okay I emailed Dr Smith and he said it was fine. Thank you for the advice.

Remus Prince: OMG

Remus Prince: You actually told the teacher on me!

The teacher agreed with you? You’re not in trouble.

Remus Prince: THAT WAS MY SECRET!

Remus Prince: now the teachers actually think I’m capable

If it makes you feel better, I did not mention your name.

Remus Prince: you really had to double check?

Maybe I was being a little paranoid but I don’t think you understand the crisis I’m currently having. I typically spend hours running around the library and searching random titles to figure out suitable texts. When all this time I could have just been using the references! I am beyond furious and relieved at this new technique to research.

Remus Prince: ah of course

Remus Prince: you totally came across that way in the 2 messages you sent

My world view has been fractured, I think that justifies not texting much.

Remus Prince: why did you apologise

Excuse me?

Remus Prince: HAH

Remus Prince: now who sucks at reading!

Remus Prince: You said sorry in the first message.

I wasn’t sure if you were in a lecture or class. It’s polite.

Remus Prince: nah

Remus Prince: I’d answer even if I was.

That is not nearly as comforting as you are intending. How far along are you in your research?

Remus Prince: honestly?

Remus Prince: I’ve read five pages in on a book on the reading list.

Remus Prince: I’ve done like nothing.

That’s indeed some amount of research. Again, as long as you are done by the 15th then whatever it takes.

Remus Prince: See you said no judgement but I picked up a lot of judgement

We have already agreed your reading comprehension is not the best.

Remus Prince: HAH

Remus Prince: so what are u up to?

Actually working on the research project.

Remus Prince: im bored

Remus Prince: I’ve been sitting waiting for my washing machine for like 9 hours

Remus Prince: maybe later I will do work

I sincerely doubt it has been nine hours. How come you’re washing your clothes at such an awkward time?

Remus Prince: Awkward?

I can’t think of many students who would wash their clothes in the middle of the week day with classes.

Remus Prince: every1 washes their stuff on the weekend

Remus Prince: plus everyone knows the weekend is for doing nothing. Might as well get all my jobs done now.

You really plan to do nothing during the weekend?

Remus Prince: hells ye

Remus Prince: maybe, at most, I’ll send Dee to campus coffee

As long as you’re done by the 2nd. Though I really should congratulate you on your superior taste to coffee shops.

Remus Prince: ?

If universal opinion existed, then Campus Coffee being the best coffee shop would be considered one. For whatever ridiculous reason, both Patton and Roman don’t really like it.

Remus Prince: really

Remus Prince: I thought I saw Ro go in.

Roman occasionally practises lines with his other theatre colleagues and that is always where they meet up. But he never buys a drink as he is apparently a literal man child and cannot cope with a drink that isn’t just chocolate and milk.

Remus Prince: RIGHT??????

Remus Prince: my roomie V likes to pretend he takes coffee but he can only drink hot choc.

Remus Prince: He doesn’t deserve coffee anyway

Exactly! Have you talked to Remy there?

Remus Prince: YE

Remus Prince: He practically forced me to be his friend with how incredible he makes coffee

Remus Prince: He’ll even add energy drink to mine!

Okay maybe that is a little strange. But I wholeheartedly agree with the sentiment. He finally convinced me to leave my usual order of a white coffee and I have not regretted it.

He doesn’t actually add energy drink to your coffee right?

Remus Prince: ye he does but don’t worry he bullies me for it

Remus Prince: The entire time I sit and drink it he’ll be holding up his phone with 911 dialed.

That seems fair.

Remus Prince: without being so incredibly forward

Remus Prince: do you want me to grab you a coffee now

What do you mean?

Remus Prince: Well im bored

Remus Prince: and it’s your fault for talking coffee

Remus Prince: now I really want coffee

Remus Prince: I’m now heading that direction.

I’m sorry but I cannot meet up right now. I’m doing work and then I want to be prompt coming home to help my roommate.

Remus Prince: fair thought id offer

MESSAGES: To Remus Prince (Presentation)

Friday, 14:20

If you’re still willing, I am sitting in the library and I would truly appreciate it if you could drop off the coffee.

I can pay.

Obviously this is up to you.

Remus Prince: soz was walking

Remus Prince: ye I can do that

Sorry for not being able to sit around, but I do appreciate this.

Remus Prince: ur fine

Remus Prince: what u want

Firstly, it is “you’re”. Secondly, without sounding like a cliche film character, just say my name. Remy makes an effort to give me a slightly different order every day to “widen my tastes”.

Remus Prince: wow

Wow?

Remus Prince: For the very epitome of the nerd stereotype, did you really hit me with that “just say my name and they’ll know” trope?

Please, I can be cool.

Remus Prince: Are you begging?

Remus Prince: Also

Remus Prince: what do you look like again?

I’m sorry?

Remus Prince: reading comprehension! Fairly simple question.

I am wearing a black polo shirt with a blue tie. Caucasian with shaved hair. 5′10.

Remus Prince: how efficient.

May I ask why?

Remus?

Remus Prince: Soz I just got our orders.

Remus Prince: I’m really bad at faces.

You could have simply asked where I would be. I’m on the second floor, computer room 209. There’s a few others here but I’ll wave once you walk in.

Remus Prince: okay maybe that would’ve made more sense

Remus Prince: shutup.

I know I have stated this before, but we have indeed talked before. You will recognise me.

Remus Prince: listen I’m not fucking around.

Remus Prince: I am genuinely shit at faces

Remus Prince: it was one question prick

I apologise. I didn’t realise.

Remus Prince: Hey I’m here, now heading up.

MESSAGES: To Padre!!

Friday, 16:00

Greetings wonderful Pat! Did you perhaps end up baking today like you said you would?

Padre!!: Heya Ro! Yeah, we made cupcakes! We didn’t fancy making icing but we did have choc chips!

AW YEAH! Just wanted to check so I know whether to buy cake. Anything I need to pick up while I’m here?

Padre!!: All good here.

Padre!!: Logan saw Remus today.

hE DID????????

Padre!!: Yeah, he brought him coffee. Some special coffee, not his white coffee.

ASJKDGA

(also how on this great big boundiful earth do you know his usual coffee order?)

Padre!!: Because that’s what family does!

Why would he bring him coffee?

Padre!!: I have no idea. Logan didn’t really talk about it.

He didn’t talk about it?!?!?!?!?!?!!?

Padre!!: I don’t know what to tell you. He got all quiet. He makes it sound like they don’t even like each other but he still brought him a coffee.

EWEWEW

YOU DON’T THINK HE’S TRYING TO MAKE A MOVE

Padre!!: I don’t know. It sounds like it but Logan said they had a bit of a tiff in the texts.

... a tiff?

Padre!!: Like a small argument.

No I knew what it means, I meant it in a “omg you’re so adorable for describing a disagreement as a tiff”.

Padre!!: I want to joke around Ro but I am a little worried about him. He acted fine after the coffee and he said they didn’t talk. It just seems like such a weird thing to do! I’m worried Remus would try and pull something. This sounds exactly like how all those stories you tell begins.

Lo’s not an idiot.

He’s a nerd.

There’s no way he would fall into his trap. He’d let us know if something wasn’t right.

Padre!!: Good point.

I’ll be home in like 5 mins. I’ll run.

Padre!!: You don’t have to Ro.

Padre!!: I’m just overreacting.

Padre!!: Ro?

Padre!!: You better make sure you’re still looking both ways even when running!

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #fanfic #My writing #roman sanders #patton sanders

25 notes · View notes

trillgutterbug · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Questions!

tagged by @palamedessextus 😊 thanks friend!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

64! only five more to the magic number ayyyyy and then i’m legally obligated to never post another one.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

289,575 apparently??? which seems way way way higher than i ever would have guessed, wow. who knew!

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

31 on ao3, although that’s lumping, eg, all marvel subfandoms together. but i have a ridiculous amount of wips in all kinds of other fandoms that i haven’t/won’t post, soooo.... more than that! and i don’t want to list them all bc that’d be a long boring read!

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

it serenely disdains to destroy us, a magnus archives fic that, i somewhat vainly note, has been orbiting in the top few top kudosed fics in the tag since i posted it womp womp.

concerning flight, because we all thirsty for thor/loki+gender and i for one support us.

untitled porny snippet (yes that’s actually what it’s called), because same as above. (i see u, kudos-to-comment ratio and i aint mad but.... i see u. all you dirty birds out there shamefully yet silently jerking it. kudos to YOU.)

an experiment in posthumous subsistence, a batman/joker zombie au i wrote fucking TEN YEARS AGO ALMOST. why???? why is this fic so popular?? i’m barely a good writer now and i sure as shit wasn’t one a decade ago! the terrible title alone should disqualify it from being read, but i guess the people want what they want. and what they want is batman and joker handcuffed together, trying to escape the zombie apocalypse ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

all good things, some stucky hydra trash party-adjacent smut regarding piercings. i stand by this one 100%, it deserves every kudo(s?) tbh.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i do, depending on the comment! i don’t think comments like “loved this!” / “thanks for writing!” are written with the intent to receive a response (or at least, when i write them on other people’s fics, i certainly don’t expect one). they’re like an extra kudo(s?), and i appreciate them a lot, but they’re not really an invitation to Discuss. whereas if someone clearly has put a lot of thought into a comment, or asked a question, or made some observations that i jive with, or just seems like they want to engage, then hell yeah i jump in there. love that shit.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i guess arguably thine own self, which is some hydra husbands abo. laugh all you want, it’s one of my fave of all my fics lmao. probably specifically bc of the unpleasant/open ending.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

probably moderation is a memory! since it, unlike 99% of all my other stuff, isn’t just total smut, and the whole point of writing it was to wallow as deep as possible in the sauce of giddy teenage infatuation, it got the opportunity to have an actual emotional arc (more or less). furthermore i could not possibly bring myself to break johnny lawrence’s tender little heart ever, that would hurt me far more than it would hurt him.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

i only realised while answering this question that apparently.... no i don’t write crossovers! which is not at all a deliberate choice, i guess a compelling enough one just hasn’t occurred to me yet!

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

shockingly no! by some accidental miracle i’ve managed to fly under the radar so far, despite some of the really buckwild stuff i’ve posted. however, considering some of the stuff i’m probably ABOUT to post.... that clean track record might soon come to an end lmao.

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

lmao. uhhhh. almost exclusively, and i guess??? all kinds? this is clearly a question composed by someone who does not write smut.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of, and i wouldn’t really care if i did.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah i think a few....? a number of people have asked anyway and i always say yes, so probably there’s at least one floating around out there somewhere.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have! just once, and we really made it count. it’s called a reptile dysfunction, which should tell you all you need to know.

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

thorki, probably. i always have and always will come back to it, no matter what. it’s got such a ferociously timeless staying power and so much potential variation, i don’t think i could ever get bored of it, regardless of what level of marvel-exhaustion i might feel at a given time, or what tropes, kinks, or stage of literary pretension i’m at. truly the oh tee pee.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

ohhhhh all 836575927 of them, but. there’s this one thorki fic i started almost ten years ago as an experiment with a new-to-me style, which turned out over the intervening years to become my main style, and looking back on that fic, which for many years was a touchstone of writing-to-aspire to for me, it’s actually Not Very Good lol. but i still love the core concept, which is a canon divergence berserker thor au, but not only is it a somewhat inaccessible (admittedly less so since the deadpool movies came out, which was a hilarious pipe dream back when i started writing it) x-force comics crossover, but i wrote myself into a bunch of corners and have yet to dig up the energy to write myself back out of them! i go and reread it every year or so and think “hmm... maybe now...” but tbh it’s just not really good enough to bother! perhaps someday i’ll repurpose the best elements of it into something new.

16) What are your writing strengths?

man, it’s so hard to say. in much the same way that you can spend hours every day staring at yourself in a mirror, yet be utterly incapable of picking yourself out of a lineup, i spend a lot of time eyeballing my writing, but stepping back it seems like a chaotic mass of nonsense with few cohesive throughlines. i’m good at writing smut, i know that much! and in that vein, i think i am good at smut bc i am very good at committing to the bit, as it were. getting into the nitty gritty of experience and sensation (physical or emotional) and rendering largely abstract internal concepts in fairly comprehensible ways. i think my prose is quite decent on a sentence level too.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

utterly incapable of finishing anything! or plotting anything! can’t mange a cohesive emotional arc! write myself into overly structured corners or out onto a vast plain with no structure in sight! all the macro elements of storytelling totally elude me, which is very frustrating when i have all this tasty fleshed out micro-level character stuff, but no narrative skeleton upon which to drape it.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? don’t! unless you are very sure you know what you’re doing, and the other language bits are a) very few, b) easily contextually understood, and c) actually adding something other than a weird flex that you know google translate exists.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

11yo me wrote spock/kirk/janice rand and thought she invented the concept of a threesome. brand been stronk since day one 🤘. (the vulcan salute is right next to the devil horns in my emoji list, so....)

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

i love the (ongoing) better with you series very much, not least because i’m still absolutely flabbergasted that i wrote something that long. i think it’s actually pretty good all things considered and it’s very dear to me on many many levels. but the fic that i just viscerally adore, that i love the style of, and that i had such a transcendent, invigorating, organic Experience writing, is temper its strength, adding honey until quite cold, which is a terror fic with the inexplicable pairing of edward little/hartnell, featuring crossdressing and gender stuff. it just burst out of me fully formed one day and i don’t think i’ve managed to top it yet!

lowkey tagging @lingua-mortua @pitcherplant @kaasknot @froggy-babyy @deputychairman @nomercyonlytears @clockheartedcrocodile

#writing meme #whoops it's 3:30am #excellent life choices courtesy of: yours truly

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rotationalsymmetry · 3 years

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A brief history of Unitarian Universalism (casual, with swears, have not fact checked as such but I think it’s correct): In New England back before US independence, there was Calvinism -- you know, that predestination thing, you’re already going to go to heaven or hell, but you should be good anyways so people will think you’re going to heaven, or something like that. Then there wasn’t. Then there was Congregationalism. Which was a lot more chill, but still very “fuck Catholicism”. And around this time, deism was on the rise: the idea that maybe God created the universe, then fucked off, and hasn’t been actively involved with anything since. Then, some people who were actually reading the Bible, because you can’t look down on Catholicism unless you actually read the Bible, were like... wait, maybe Jesus isn’t all that. You know -- the Savior, the Son of God, one third of the Trinity, all that. Maybe he was just, like... a prophet, or some guy who said some interesting things. A teacher. And other congregationalists were like: uh, what, no, Jesus has to be all that. If you don’t think Jesus is all that, how can you even call yourself a Christian? And they decided they couldn’t really be around each other any more. So the first group, which was mostly in Boston, started calling themselves Unitarians (because they rejected the doctrine of the Trinity and instead believed in a one part God), and incidentally at some point also stopped calling themselves Christians because the other guys had a point, and the others called themselves the United Church of Christ (UCC.) Emerson and Thorough -- sorry, Thoreau -- were both Unitarians, as were John Adams, John Quincy Adams, and pretty much everyone else from Boston in early US history. (We like to claim Jefferson, because his beliefs were kindasorta similar to Unitarian beliefs at the time, but as I understand it he was never actually part of a Unitarian congregation.) (Btw: if you’re lgbtq+ and Christian, they’re a pretty friendly denomination. If you’re lgbtq+ and Christian and you think the UCC is too liberal (in the religious sense) or you want a majority-lgbtq+ congregation, consider MCC, which is otherwise unconnected to all this. If you’re not Christian and are lgbtq+ -- atheist/agnostic, or maybe something else if you’re down with worshipping with people that aren’t specifically your thing -- Unitarian Universalism tends to be pretty good. As in: we have a bunch of gay/lesbian ministers and other religious leaders, and a few transgender ones. (Knowledge of less mainstream lgbtq+ identities can vary a lot between congregations and generations -- the younger generations tend to be more aware than the gen x’ers.) I’ve been involved with Church of the Larger Fellowship for most of the past year, which did zoom worship before it got cool and serves people around the world, and people like me who live a mile from a UU brick and mortar congregation but still can’t get their disabled ass over there anyways. Anyways, CLF has more POC on the worship team than most UU congregations (the denomination does tend to run pretty white), is very social justice oriented even by UU standards, and is somewhat more cool about general weirdness than most congregations, which again for UU congregations is saying something.) Then, at some point (sadly, I’m significantly more familiar with the history of the first U than the second) there was this other protestant denomination in the South (as in, the US South) where people decided that God was too nice to send people to hell for all eternity, so they started calling themselves the Universalists, as in Universal Salvation. All dogs go to heaven. Well, time passed, each denomination evolved in its own way. (In particular, Unitarianism caught humanism pretty hard -- the joke was the Unitarians believe in one God at most.) In the -- ok, I’ll look this one up -- in 1961, there was a big old merger, creating Unitarian Universalism, and in the process, everyone got together and was all...wait, so what are our official beliefs about God and stuff? Should we even have official beliefs about God? Maybe we can unify around some ideas around how people should treat each other instead. So they did: they drafted a set of Principles (broad-strokes guidelines on how people should act -- peace is good, truth is good, people have value, stuff like that) and a set of Sources (where UU’s get their ideas about God and morality and so on from, starting with direct experience) and left everything else up to the individual. And then a little while later, the tree-huggers got a seventh Principle and a sixth Source added in -- respect for the environment and Earth-centered religions, respectively -- so now the joke is that UU’s believe in one God, more or less. Currently there’s a movement on to add an 8th Principal that explicitly names racial equality and fighting oppression as something we value, since while the current Principles mention justice and equality, they don’t specifically name race, and the people of color who have stuck with the predominantly white denomination figure Unitarian Universalism can and should be doing better on that front. Unitarian Universalism runs religiously liberal (ie, decentralized, individualistic, non-authoritarian, non-dogmatic, inclined to believe science over the Bible) and politically progressive. Unitarian Universalist congregations tend to be very politically active and concerned with social justice, mostly in a well-educated middle class kind of way: committees, Robert’s Rules of Order, donating to non-profits, Get Out the Vote, inviting in speakers and asking “questions” that aren’t really questions, forming partnerships with other congregations and community organizations, etc. Many UU congregations have put a Black Lives Matter sign out (and when necessary keep putting it out when it gets torn down or vandalized), shown up for the protests, opposed the weird immigration BS that’s been going on in the US recently, etc. In addition to more charity style work, like food pantries and homeless shelters.

Point is: yeah it’s got flaws (don’t even get me started on Unitarian Universalism’s flaws) but if you’re a social justice person and want to meet other social justice people who are doing things, Unitarian Universalism can be a good place to look for that. You get more done in groups.

You’re less likely to burn out, too. With marginalization, it’s complicated, right? Again, for LGBTQ+ people, it’s going to be better than most religious organizations. For people a little bit on the autism spectrum, you probably won’t be the only one. (If you’re unmistakeably autistic, people might be weird/ableist; it might depend on the congregation.) If you’re from a working class background or are currently kinda broke, you might run into some frustrations or feel like you don’t fit in; if you’re a poc or if you’re disabled (or your kid is) or you want a lot of personal support, you might struggle more -- this really might vary a lot, but at least the congregations I’m used to tend to assume congregants can mostly stand on their own feet, metaphorically speaking, and have some extra time/money/skills/whatever that can be directed out into the wider world. It can be a good place for pagans and Buddhists and other people who don’t want a church but are having trouble finding a church-like religious community where you can hang out with people on the same spiritual path. (Uh, for a while UU congregations were emphatically not churches and some officially still aren’t; others gave up and were all “eh, it looks like a church, whatever, we’re just a weird church.) Some congregations are more atheist-dominated than others -- many avoid Jesus language most of the time, some avoid God language most of the time (UU’s who believe in God tend to believe in God in a relatively abstract/metaphorical way), some I hear are pagan-heavy, others do use Christian language a lot more. In all honesty you don’t have to go to Sunday worship if you don’t want to, and really a lot of UU’s don’t; if you want to be heavily involved in the congregation but don’t want to go to Sunday worship and don’t want to deal with pressure to, one way out is to teach RE (religious education -- basically “Sunday school”) the RE curricula are amazing, just absolutely astounding, and if you’re teaching it you get a ton of leeway with adjusting anything you don’t like. (Which could happen -- a lot of this stuff was developed before the idea that cultural appropriation is a big problem became mainstream in social justice circles.) What adult worship is like has basically zero correlation (perhaps negative correlation) to what RE is like. (Which sucks for young adults coming of age in a UU congregation, like I said don’t get me started on UU’s flaws.) Finally: for people who care about sex positivity and sex ed, Unitarian Universalists (in partnership with UCC) developed Our Whole Lives, a sex ed curriculum that, well, it’s not abstinence based education. You wouldn’t expect sex ed coming from a religious org to be better than the sex ed in schools, would you? And yet. Comprehensive sex ed that acknowledges gay bi and trans people and that disabled people have sex too and teaches about birth control and masturbation and abuse and consent and boundaries and bullying and internet safety and abortion. It’s good stuff. The course aimed at teens is most popular of course, but there’s actually (age-appropriate) OWL curricula for all stages of life: young kids, adults, older adults, everyone. And it’s versatile enough to be taught in secular contexts (after school programs etc). Given the direction that unfortunately a lot of school districts in the US have been going in in terms of sex ed, it’s a really important program.

#Unitarian Universalism #unitarian universalist history #feels weird plugging the denomination when I get so frikkin frustrated but still #if it's not something you know about and you care about social justice #it's something you should know something about #even if you're not interested personally #I'm open to questions on this drop me a line

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jwillowwolf · 3 years

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Magic and Miracles - Chapter 3

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 3! < Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist Summary: “Remy? Remy? Remington? Oi, Remy, wake up!” Virgil said, shaking the snoring man.

“Huh? Where’s the dragon?”

“Here,” Janus answered.

“Eh? Oh, hey Snake-Eye, Wolfie, Lo, Violent.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You weren’t responding to the gentle shaking.”

“That’s no reason to make a man think there’s an earthquake.” Warning/s: food mention. Characters: Logan, Remy, OC, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus. Tag List:@theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

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3 | Lessons Begin

Waking up, walking to the dining hall, and eating breakfast had been uneventful. Logan felt like the atmosphere was relatively peaceful despite the tension from last night. Then again, everyone was still rather groggy from sleep, so he wasn’t going to make any assumptions yet.

Once the seven students had reached the classroom though, they seemed much more awake, aware, and eager to learn about the mysteries behind magic. They all sat at the desks they had claimed the day before and waited silently as Remy came into the room. Remy looked at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you all in trouble already? I’ve never known kids to be quiet without adults shouting for them to be so… never mind, let’s get this lesson started. The first spell that all young magic users should know is Stat Check. Do you know what that is?”

The class shook their heads no.

“Good! Because it’s meant to be a closely guarded secret. Never written down or spoken of among anyone but wizards and their first-year apprentices. Before I can even teach it to you, you need to solemnly swear to me that you shall guard this secret as fiercely as all mages before you.”

“That seems rather dramatic,” Janus commented.

“This is magic we’re talking about! Of course, it’s dramatic,” Remy said with a grin. “Now, swear that you’ll keep this secret locked inside your soul.”

The class did as Remy asked, with a bit of speculation but agreement all the same. Unfortunately, I can not repeat the spell, but I can tell you that it is activated by holding a finger to your wrist and saying the ‘activation’ word which I shall from here on censor as ‘stats’.

Remy demonstrated the spell and once he said stats a sheet of light projected from his wrist. Written on the sheet of light was:

Remington Animosni

Titles: Lord Animosni, Friend of the Crown, Expert Wizard, +...

MP: 52 - Full

HP: 100 - Full

Skills: Magic, Potion Making, Charisma, +...

“So this is your main status board,” Remy explained. “It shows your name, titles, MP aka magic points, HP aka health points, and skills. You can interact with it by tapping on whatever to expand the information on it.”

Remy demonstrated this by tapping on the title Expert Wizard, which caused the screen to change to this:

Expert Wizard.

Title earned by increasing MP above 45. Perks: increased HP. Drawbacks: none.

“This is how you can better understand your own magical capacity and skill set. If you want to view your stats privately, then just say S stats. If you want to see someone else’s stats then say X stats while pointing your wrist at the person you want to check. You will only be able to see their name, HP, and MP, but that’s still good to know if you’re perhaps fighting them.”

“Why would magic-users fight one another?” Patton asked.

Remy sighed. “The world is a complicated place, Pat. But never mind that. Try checking your stats, everyone.”

The students nodded then tried out the spells for themselves. All opting to view their stats privately. Logan opened his and read it critically.

Logan Picani

Titles: Loyal Friend, Loving Son, Apprentice Wizard.

MP: 10 - full

HP: 40 - full

Skills: Magic, Baking, Student, +...

He raised an eyebrow curiously and tapped on the skill Student.

Student.

Level: 23/100

Rare Skill. Perks: faster reading and comprehension, easily picks up new skills. Drawbacks: none.

That seems like a good skill to have. Logan wondered if it was the reason for his ability to teach himself so well. He tapped the word again and the screen changed back to the main status board. Then he tapped onto the title Apprentice Wizard.

Apprentice Wizard.

Title Earned by unlocking the skill Magic. Perks: MP access. Drawbacks: HP conversion.

“Um, Mr Ainmosni?”

“It’s Remy, kid. What’s up?”

“What does the drawback HP conversion mean?”

“Ah, well, if you run out of MP during casting a spell, then your HP will automatically be turned into MP. This is a drawback because it can mean draining your HP to below five, which causes you to fall unconscious and die if it reaches zero.” Remy explained.

“Isn’t there a way to stop that from happening?” Willow asked.

Remy shook his head. “It’s an automatic drawback that comes with becoming an apprentice wizard. There’s no way to stop it apart from being conscious of what spells you’re using and how much MP they take. Calculating this will hopefully help you to keep from draining yourselves, so keep that in mind when you’re trying out new spells, kay?”

Everyone nodded.

“Okay, now that you’re more familiar with your stats, let’s do a quick assessment of your magical knowledge, shall we? What are the basic magical categories… Virgil?”

“Rock, animals, water, plants, fire, air, healing, and mind.”

“Correct. Logan, why do these categories exist?”

“They are the eight-core magics. All spells fall under at least one category, and depending on which there will be a different Initiation Word.”

“Correct. Willow, what are the eight Initiation Words?”

“Mowntayn for rock, Pawyng for animal, Ignyght for fire, Groh for plants, um... Rayne for water, Stahwynd for air, Embraes for healing, and... Wysdome for mind.”

“Right. Janus, how is a spell cast?”

“You say the initiation word, draw whatever runes are necessary, then end off with the sealing word.”

“Good. Patton, why do we use runes?”

“The runes represent what specific spell you want to cast.”

“Yep. Remus, how many runes are there?”

“A million?”

“Close enough. Roman, what is the sealing word?”

“Solhart.”

“Correct! Now,” Remy grinned. “Let’s get to the tough stuff.”

The following days were pretty much the same as this one. The class either revised what basics they knew or Remy explained what they didn’t know. They practised pronunciation, studied runes, and learnt about different potion ingredients. Within the first month, the kids had pretty much memorised the basics of magic.

Logan had visited home every weekend and told his dad and Everleigh about it all, but his eagerness from that first week seemed to be slowly wearing out as the class did nothing new. He had thought that today was going to be the same, but instead of leading the students to the classroom this morning, Remy led them to the gardens.

“Uh, Remy? Where are we going?” Roman asked.

“Today, you kids will be going on your first quest,” Remy announced.

The group perked up. “Quest?”

“Yep. I’m confident in your understanding of basic magic, so I am going to let you go off on your own to find some potion ingredients for our first potion making class.”

Remy pulled out seven different pieces of paper. “I’ve made each of you a checklist for what we will need, and while you all have different items, I hope you’ll work together to find what you need. Oh, and before I send you off, I need to teach you a new spell. Inventory.”

Remy stopped and the kids circled around him to watch as he demonstrated the new spell. He picked up a stone and held it in front of him. “Stawynd.” with the indigo light that flowed from his fingertip, he drew a rune that looked like a locked box onto the stone. “Solhart.”

The rune turned white and then vanished with the stone, causing the students to gasp.

“Where did it go?”

“Right here.”

Remy opened his status board and showed the kids a small icon in the corner of the screen that looked like the rune he had drawn. He tapped on this icon and the screen changed to show a bunch of different slots, mostly empty apart from two. One with a picture of Remy’s flask and the other a picture of the stone from before.

“This is an inventory,” Remy explained. “You can put different items into each slot, and depending on your proficiency you will have more or fewer slots. To add items to your inventory, you do as I did to the stone. And to take them back out, you just double-tap,” Remy tapped the stone and it reappeared in his hand. “Tada! Okay, you try with your lists.”

Everyone tried out the new spell and practised it a few times before Remy let them all go on their quest. They went out a gate by the fence that seemed almost hidden and set off into the deep dark woods. Of course, it wasn’t very dark since the sun was shining brightly in the sky, and filtered through the trees to light their way.

“Should we check what each of our individual lists says?” Logan asked.

Patton nodded agreeingly. “Yeah, then we can keep an eye out for the different things.”

“Actually, I think we should just look for our own stuff. More things to look out for means we might miss our own.” Roman said.

Willow frowned. “But this is meant to be a group project.”

“Technically, Remy said he hoped we’d work together.” Remus pointed out.

“I have an idea,” Janus suggested. “Let’s work in teams.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I just said that would be hard.”

“I mean smaller teams. One team works individually and the other works together, then we’ll see which way is better.”

“How are we going to split up though? There are seven of us.” Virgil pointed out.

“We can have a team of four for the working-together group. That’s four people working together but also the team of three will have fewer things to find, so It works out fairly.”

“Well, how are we choosing teams then?” Patton asked.

“Well, obviously I would be one of the team leaders. I’m a natural-born leader.” Roman declared.

“Yes, the leader of the losing team, because I’ll be leading the winning team.” Janus states.

“Remus and Patton are with me, and we’ll be the individuals.”

“Sounds good. We’ll see you three later then.” Janus said before walking away from the group.

Virgil, Logan, and Willow followed after them till the four were out of earshot. “So, lists?”

“I have blackroot, ginfleck, and wild ginger,” Willow reported.

Virgil frowned. “What’s ginfleck?”

“A medicinal herb used commonly in potions for stomach aches,” Logan replied. “It looks like a sunflower but pink.”

“Why not call it a pink sunflower then?”

“Because… I honestly don’t know.”

“Logan, you live nearby here right?” Janus asked.

“In town, but yes.”

“Any idea where we could find some of this?”

“Well, I think I remember seeing a ginfleck patch somewhere along the road.”

“Let’s go there first then. We can keep an eye out for everything else along the way.” Virgil said, turning in the direction of the road.

And so they went and collected the pink sunflowers and everything else on their lists. It was only late afternoon by the time they returned to the house, but they found Remy lying on a hammock in the garden, napping in the sun.

“Remy? Remy? Remington? Oi, Remy, wake up!” Virgil said, shaking the snoring man.

“Huh? Where’s the dragon?”

“Here,” Janus answered.

“Eh? Oh, hey Snake-Eye, Wolfie, Lo, Violent.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You weren’t responding to the gentle shaking.”

“That’s no reason to make a man think there’s an earthquake.”

“Whatever. Have the others come back yet?”

Remy shrugged. “I think the twins are in the house.”

“Patton wasn’t with them?” Willow asked.

“No. Did you all split up?”

“Yes, but we didn’t think they would split up. We divided ourselves into two teams.” Janus stated.

“Well, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about and Pat will be back soon. Why don’t you guys head inside and get some lunch.” Remy suggested.

The kids exchanged anxious glances but nodded and headed off to the dining room. While they were not exactly a close group of friends, the one person who’d befriended each of them was Patton. He was a kind little ball of sunshine and no one wanted any harm to come to him. Once they were inside the house, the four found Remus worriedly pacing by the door and Roman gloomily watching her from the corner.

Remus paused. “Did you guys see Patton?”

“No. Did the three of you split up?”

“I thought we could cover more ground that way,” Roman answered. “This is all my fault.”

“Let’s not go jumping to conclusions just yet,” Logan said. “Maybe he couldn’t find one of his items?”

“No. I saw Pat’s list before we split up. They were three common types of wild berries that he could have found easily.” Remus declared.

“You’re sure?” Willow asked.

“I saw them all over while I was getting my stuff.”

“He must be lost. It’s rather easy with how thick these woods are,” Virgil said.

“We need to find him,” Janus declared. “We’ve got to go back and look for him.”

“Where and how though? He could be anywhere,” Roman said with clear fear in his tone.

“Willow can track him. They’ve been trained in finding lost people.”

“Yeah, but I’d need a scent to go off of.”

“Like from clothes?” Remus asked.

“Clothes, or a personal item he keeps close.”

Remus ran away then returned in record time with a teal blanket. “Would this work?”

Willow took the item and smelt it. “Yes, this is perfect.”

“We might have to sneak past Remy, in case he tries to stop us.” Janus said.

“There’s another gate that’s closer to the house that we can get through.” Virgil declared.

“Who’s we though? We’re going to need to choose who is a part of this rescue.” Roman pointed out.

“I don’t think any of us are willing to stay behind, not if we could help. Patton may be in danger, and his getting lost is evidence enough that no one should venture off on their own. We need to work as a team here. A real team.” Logan stated.

Janus looked at the twins. “I’m willing to call a truce in the name of teamwork if you are.”

Roman nodded in agreement and Remus grinned. “Let’s go save Pat!”

The group followed Virgil outside and through the second hidden gate. From there, Willow took the lead as she sniffed out Patton’s scent. The group grew anxious the further Willow led them. Patton had gone quite far, from the looks of it, but it felt like something was wrong.

“Why would he have gone so far?” Logan wondered.

“I hate to suggest it, but something may have chased him,” Janus said and Willow nodded agreeingly.

“Wouldn’t that leave a scent of its own?”

“Yes, but I can’t discern anything. There are a lot of smells out here.”

“Can you smell anything?” Roman asked Janus.

“No. I can’t smell at all.”

“What?”

“I’m a dragon. We don’t have a sense of smell like humans do. We use a special organ on the roof of our mouths.”

“Aren’t you half-human?”

“That just makes it easier to shift between my humanoid and dragon form. There aren’t many other differences.”

“Wait, do you hear that?”

The team paused and listened. The only sounds Logan could make out were the normal ambience of the forest. But then he heard it.

“Hello? Is anyone up there?”

“Patton?!” Remus bolted towards the voice, the others followed him close behind.

He came to stop at the edge of a hole and looked down. “Patton? How did you get down there?”

“Remus! Hi! I jumped.”

“You jumped? From this height?” Janus asked, eyeing the drop disapprovingly.

The hole looked like the beginnings of a well, around three stories deep and some stones piled like a wall around the one side. Either the well-maker had abandoned their project halfway, or half of the well had mysteriously been taken away. That wasn’t important though, because right now the team had to figure out how to get Patton back up.

“I’m fine! The water was here to break my fall!”

“Why did you jump in the first place?” Roman demanded.

“I was being chased by some bees.” Patton sheepishly admitted. “My mom always told me, if that happens then you should get below water, quickly. Bees don’t like water.”

“How did you antagonise these bees?” Logan inquired.

“I was trying to get some honey for Remus.”

“Aw, Pat, that’s really sweet. But I’ve been worried sick about where you went!”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You’re safe now. Um, how do we get him back up though?” Remus asked the group.

“I can grow a long strong vine to use as rope for us to hoist him up,” Roman suggested.

Janus nodded. “Well then, get to growing. We don’t have all day.”

Roman quickly did as he was told and once the vine-rope looked long enough the team tossed one end down to Patton. Each of them lined up and held onto the other end then pulled to get him out of the hole. With all six of them working together, it was a quick and easy task. Once Patton was clear of the well, Remus attacked him with a hug, and he thanked everyone for coming to rescue him.

The entire group was relieved to have him back. So relieved that they didn’t feel any worry, until they returned to the manor and came face to face with Remy.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was? You didn’t even suggest you were going out! And what do I find? Not only one of my students is missing- all of them are! Gone without a trace! Like, poof, never there! What were you thinking? Actually, scratch that were you even thinking?!”

He went on like that until dinner time and the kids decided that among all the lessons they’d learned today, ‘Don’t Freak Remy Out’, is now at the top. Also, maybe it would be better to stick together than separate. They made a good team when their prejudices weren’t getting in the way. But above all, they should never freak Remy out.

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

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inscribed-in-asteroids · 4 years

Text

AN: Here’s chapter four! We get into some character interaction.

Title: The Ripple Effect

Canon Characters: Entrapta, Hordak, Scorpia, Perfuma, Mermista, Seahawk, mentions Catra and Adora

Original Characters/Fankids: Odessa, Hydrangea, Tristan, features Adam and Molly

Pairing (i.e. ones having actual moments): Entrapdak, Scorfuma

Rating: M

Read on AO3. It always has more info there.

Venture

Entrapta places her recorder in her pocket, done for the time being. There have been advancements in the settlement on Beast Island. It continues to grow in size and technology, and contains more portals than other places on Etheria. Most places only have one portal, with Bright Moon having a few. The Whispering Woods contains the second-highest amount after Beast Island, predominantly so that if anyone gets lost, they will eventually find a portal and land in one of the main kingdoms, with that particular portal having that kingdom’s crest.

She and her lab partner have been diligent in the upkeep of Beast Island. It had taken time for the island to become fertile. First One’s tech had buried its roots deep within the earth, far below what anyone but drones could see. Soil had melded with machine, somehow: dirt containing minerals that were not of Etheria, and when they attempted to dig out the First One’s tech—mostly from the other princesses’ insistence that it be done—they learned their mistake when slumbering beasts and inanimate plants had sprung to life and attempted to kill them. That had been terri-fun-fying!

But it did confirm what Hordak and she suspected: Beast Island and the First One’s tech had morphed into one gigantic organism. A problem to be sure, however, they also proposed a radical hypothesis: by changing the code of First One’s tech, they could alter the parasitic relationship to a symbiotic one. That had been a major doozy, since there was so much, but it worked! The island had released its many species from its catatonic state, and they had called She-Ra to aid the process run smoother with her magic.

The First One’s tech proved to be a valuable asset in not only repairing Beast Island, but creating a thriving metropolis that used the natural resources and ancient machinery available. Buildings, bridges, plumbing, aqueducts, everything made by Horde clones was molded around the landscape. They were determined to function alongside the proper residents of Beast Island.

It really surprised everyone how well they behaved when not obeying the rules of a tyrannical madman.

Entrapta found life on Beast Island exciting and peaceful at the same time. Being the princess of Dryl, she would still go to her old home, but she pretty much gave it to Wrong Hordak and the other clones who desired to live a little closer to the other kingdoms, to mend relations and have a better comprehension of the way Etheria works. Hordak’s brothers were curious, inventive and engaging once they were free, and went through rehabilitation to cope with the loss of Prime.

They were all so cute!

Entrapta looks to her left, watching Hordak move around the room. He keeps his eyes on the clipboard, hair falling over his forehead. He taps the back of it with his fingers, humming to himself as he kneels down to inspect a piece of equipment.

Entrapta smiles, propping her cheek against her hand.

Hordak senses a gaze on him, and he looks at her, smiling, “Did you need anything?”

“No, I’m content,” she says. But none as cute as him.

Odessa disembarks first, greeted by several of her uncles, her parents and siblings. Imp flies toward her, landing lightly against her back. She instinctively moves to the piggyback position, kissing his cheek. Emily whirs happily, and she leans over to kiss the top of her dome.

“Find anything fascinating?” Imp plays back in Entrapta’s voice.

“Yes! There was a lot on the flagship that we had to explore,” she says.

“Ooh, what’d you get?” Entrapta herself asks, hanging upside down from a rafter.

“I’ll show you in a bit. Right now, I need these two to go,” Odessa says, annoyed.

“Your friends?” Hordak asks, confused.

“No,” she points at Adam and Molly, who are standing behind Tristan and Hydrangea.

“What are you two doing there?” Entrapta asks.

Adam, shameless, grins at her, “Oh, we snuck up on the ship! It was awesome!”

Entrapta blinks, surprised by this development. She furrows her brows, “Wait, so you two were on the ship for that long?”

“Yeah, it was great!” Adam says, jumping over to stand by Odessa. “Can’t wait to do it again!”

Odessa glares at him, the urge to grind him underfoot intense, “You could’ve jeopardized the mission!”

“Uh, but we didn’t? I don’t see the problem,” Adam replies, folding his arms.

“The problem is that we had to have two additional people on board! Our supplies were meant for three, you’re lucky we had spares!”

Entrapta moves in, looking at Adam, holding his arms out with her hair, “Ooh, so you used my suits! Tell me, did it affect your mobility? What was your heartrate? Can you grab me your suit so I can scrape your skin cells off the inside?”

“Mom, please,” Odessa begs. “I want to yell at this idiot!”

“I know, sweetie, but can’t it wait ‘til after I pluck some hairs?”

“No way, you can’t go plucking my hair!” Adam protests.

Odessa whirls on him, poking his shoulder not-too-gently, “You get involved with my mission and you think you’re in any position to object to anything!”

Hydrangea approaches her, “Des, calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when he gets out of my sight! Having to deal with you for this long was torture!”

Entrapta hovers over Adam’s head, measuring his body with her tape, lost in thought.

“Entrapta,” Hordak says, getting her, and their, attention. “Perhaps this is the time to lay out ground rules.”

“Oooh, gotcha!” Entrapta swings over to him, sitting atop her hair in a swift motion. She nods at Hordak.

He walks forward, hands behind his back, coming up to Adam and Molly. Molly shrinks under his scrutiny, while Adam has the decency to look like he fucked up for once. “I will send the two of you home by portal immediately. I will be speaking with your mothers to inform them of your behavior, to ensure neither of you tell them anything different.”

Molly groans inwardly, knowing she’ll be the only one to care. Adam is likely forgetting everything as it’s said.

Adam’s ears flatten against his head, annoyed, “Dude, no offense, but we didn’t do anything to risk her mission.”

“It is not a matter of you managing to be competent aboard the ship,” Hordak chastises. “It is the matter that you were not privy to the information or mission itself to begin with. Your inability to think ahead has always been a problem.”

“But—”

“Do not argue with me,” Hordak whispers, deadly quiet, leaning close. At Adam’s silence, he pulls back. “The two of you will accompany me to the portal now. Come.”

Adam keeps from huffing, crossing his arms, ears pressed to his head. Molly rubs her left arm, looking over her shoulder.

Tristan meets her gaze, giving her a reassuring smile.

With that, she follows her brother and Hordak.

Odessa turns to her mother once they’re out of range, “I found some things on the ship that I know you’ll be interested in.”

Entrapta squeals, “Oooh, I can’t wait to see it!”

Hydrangea yawns, patting Entrapta’s shoulder, “I’ll have to see you all tomorrow, I need to go home and see how things have been.”

“Aaaaw, so soon?” Entrapta asks.

“Unfortunately,” Hydrangea says, hugging her tight. “I’ll be back later after I get some rest.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gea,” Odessa says, opening her arms for a hug of her own. Hydrangea shakes her a little, the two laughing, before heading toward the portal. Odessa looks up, “What about you, Tris?”

He shrugs, “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“You’re welcome to hang out with us!” Entrapta shouts.

Emily spins in place, beeping with excitement.

“Awesome,” Tristan says, giving Imp a high-five as he flies around his head. “I can hang out with your siblings while you and your Mom talk science.”

Odessa touches her mother’s shoulder, “So, do you think Dad is going to be gone a while?”

“He does have to talk to Adora and Catra, so probably,” she replies.

“Okay, because maaaybe I should show you one of the things I found without him.”

Tristan raises a brow, while Entrapta blinks in puzzled silence.

“Oh my,” Entrapta breathes, peering into the case. “That’s my girl! Not a single mark or blemish on it.”

Odessa grins, “I know! It came out perfect.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to let your dad know?” Entrapta asks a second time. “I think he might find it interesting, too.”

Odessa’s lips are pursed for a moment, folding her arms across her chest. She sighs, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell Dad. I’ll ask him some questions to hint about it, I suppose, but I don’t know how he will feel about it.”

“I think it would be best to be upfront,” Entrapta says.

Odessa bites her lip, uncertain.

Entrapta continues to study the brain in the jar. These discoveries could be important, but she understands her daughter’s concern. Hordak has been making reparations for decades now, but when it enters especially sensitive territory about his time serving Horde Prime, he becomes sullen, despondent and incapable of holding a good mood. She doesn’t blame her husband either. That’s a part of his past that continues to pain him. The years have softened his heart, and he feels shame and guilt every day for things he had done. She doesn’t want to lie to him, but she doesn’t want to hurt him either.

She imagines that’s how her daughter feels. Ethical dilemmas are her least favorite kind.

“I will see how he feels by implication,” Odessa reaffirms. “I won’t do more than that, at present.”

Entrapta nods, not liking any of this, but standing by her child’s decision. She takes the jar in her hands, “We will study it later. Why don’t you go and take this to your room?”

“Alright, I’ll put it away real quick. I’ll be back to show you and Dad the other thing I found,” Odessa says, jumping toward the ceiling and heading into the vents.

Entrapta sighs, then her smile returns when she hears Hordak’s voice from behind, conversing with Tristan.

“You’re more than welcome to spend the night,” Hordak offers, clasping his hands behind his back. “We have plenty of rooms to accommodate your needs.”

Entrapta bounds over, eager, “We’re having mini pancakes in the morning!”

Tristan smiles at them, “Thank you! I’d be happy to.”

Odessa hops down at this moment, grabbing him into a headlock, “Cool! If Gea was here, it’d be like old times!”

Chuckling, Tristan pats her forearm, signaling for release, and she obliges. He gives a yawn and stretches, “I’m gonna head to bed, then.”

“Imp, Emily, can you show him to his room?” Odessa asks.

More than happy to, the three exit the room, leaving Odessa and her parents in the sanctum. She walks to her bag, “There wasn’t much on the flagship, but I did discover this.”

Hordak and Entrapta stare at shining fragments, clattering softly on the table. Entrapta holds one in a hair strand, “Pretty! Where was this?”

“It seemed to have been located in one of Prime’s trophy rooms.”

“Look, hon,” Entrapta says, holding it up to Hordak. “The craftsmanship for this must’ve been delicate and precise.”

Hordak takes it between his fingers, inspecting it slowly, quietly. It does have an air of elegance. He somewhat recalls seeing it before in that room. Lined with trinkets from planets no longer around. Hordak frowns, placing it on the table, “Did you find anything else?”

Odessa considers her words carefully. She says, “I did find an area that had past Primes.”

“Was it intact?”

“More than we expected.”

“Did anything of consequence come about?”

“I did interact with one of the bodies,” Odessa tells him. “But it’s nothing that important.”

Hordak peers closely at her, and Entrapta glances at the ground, trying not to pull down her mask.

“An entire vicinity filled with inanimate bodies, and you didn’t do anything with them?” Hordak asks.

“Not really. I turned one on by accident, though, so I got to take a close look at it.”

“That must’ve been elucidating, on some degree, I suppose,” Hordak scowls, tilting his head. He adds, “Well, there’s no need to go to the flagship anymore.”

“I know, Dad,” Odessa says, sitting on the table. “That part’s done with.”

Hordak pats her head, an unexplainable relief coming to him.

Odessa’s stomach grumbles, and she gives a sheepish grin, “Oh, guess I’m hungry.”

Entrapta beams, “Late-night snacks! We got lots of fizzy drinks! I missed my little drinking buddy.”

Laughing, Odessa hops to her feet, “Mom, the day we get actually drunk together is gonna be nuts.”

Tristan wakes up to the sound of scuttling on the walls. Seeing Imp climbing around, Tristan closes his eyes, getting drowsy again.

“Morning!” Odessa yells, jumping on top of him.

Tristan throws her off him, smirking as she falls, “Des, I’m sleeping…”

Landing with ease, she stands, arms akimbo, “But don’t you want to eat?”

He debates whether to leave the warm comfort of the bed or enjoy the warm comfort of mini pancakes.

Noooooo…

“Gea’s bringing the really good syrup,” Odessa teases, poking his shoulder with her hair.

He opens one eye.

Tristan doesn’t take much convincing afterward, pouring caramelized fruit syrup onto an assortment of small pancakes, his third helping. Hydrangea pours him and her a cup of green tea with lemon, setting his cup down in front of him. He says thanks with a full mouth, and she smiles at him.

Odessa, on her third plate too, licks her lips, “This is so good! You’re turning into a pro at making syrups.”

“Thank you,” Hydrangea blushes. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Taking a healthy sip of his tea, not minding the burn, Tristan lets out a satisfied sigh, “You keep this up, there’s no way I’ll be able to move.”

Entrapta looks up from her plate, peering closely at his face, “Have you been experiencing a slack in your metabolism? Are your joints functioning, or are you showing signs of muscle atrophy?”

Tristan smiles reassuringly, “No, no, I’m okay. The food’s just delicious.”

“It is!” Entrapta says, returning to her meal. She turns to Hordak, “Do you want to try any?”

“Hmm…” Hordak looks at the sweet cakes, drizzled with thick syrup. All of it golden in color. Pleasing to the eye, but he isn’t sure.

Entrapta grins at him, expectant.

“Very well,” Hordak says, taking her fork. He tries to not be aware of the eyes on him. Giving it a delicate sniff, he sticks it into his mouth, chewing meticulously. Thinking.

He looks at Hydrangea, giving a nod, “Excellent work.”

“T-Thank you!” she stammers, beyond shocked. She is going to remember this compliment for the rest of her life.

Entrapta, delighted he had a good experience, finishes up the rest of her food. Getting up, she announces, “Well, we’ll see you later! Hordak and I have a lot of work to do, so we won’t see you until tonight.”

“Alright, Mom,” Odessa says. “You two have a good day!”

Squealing at how adorable she is, Entrapta kisses her face multiple times as she says goodbye. Hordak pats her head before joining his lab partner.

“So,” Tristan begins, dabbing his mouth. “What are we up to today?”

Odessa turns to him, “I was thinking we might begin preparing for our next trip.”

Hydrangea sips her tea, “Our next trip will be when, do you think?”

“Preferably, sooner than later, and I am going to begin preparations in the coming days,” Odessa explains. “The next trip is going to be significantly longer, even with using portals.”

“How long do you expect?” Tristan asks.

“It might be more than a year,” Odessa answers.

“Oh!” Hydrangea says, setting down her cup. “More than a year… Where are we going?”

“I’d been thinking about it since we left the flagship,” Odessa says. “I think it would be provident to visit my uncles on Inicos. If no one on Etheria knows, maybe I have relatives that can give me better answers there.”

Tristan and Hydrangea glance at each other, both wondering what it would take to prepare it all.

“I understand it’s a lot,” Odessa tells them, aware that they’re unsure. “There’s no rush, since it will take a little time to prepare. I will inform you before we launch. Take your time to figure it out!”

Hydrangea smiles at her, “Alright, that’s good. It might take my parents a little convincing.”

“And you, Tris?”

“I’m sure I can figure something out with my folks,” Tristan replies.

“Excellent. I have a little bit to do around here for a couple hours, but I’ll meet up with you both later today.”

“That’s fine, I got stuff to do too,” Tristan stands, stretching out his arms.

Hydrangea claps her hands together, “I’ll see you guys later!”

Tristan doesn’t go home.

He swims through the ocean for several hours, thinking. Enveloped in the comfort of water, Tristan swims further down into the water, the light dissipating as he descends. Tristan looks to his side, shadows moving in the liquid black. He reaches out, skimming the surface of smooth skin. The aquatic behemoth lets out a sound of greeting, its voice thrumming through the water.

Swimming deeper, the pressure intensifying, darkness consuming his sight. He senses the scales of another animal, and it swims beside him for a while, enjoying his company. He loves to come down here. Communicate with all the oddities beneath the ocean, gliding along its floors, descending into greater trenches.

Despite what people think, the bottom of the ocean isn’t silent. There’s a cacophony of sound here, all varied in tone, pitch, and layered.

His mother never went beyond where dolphins ranged. Her demeanor, his father had told him, has remained exactly the same since they were young adults. But she has a penchant for cuter creatures, spending her time with more mammalian ocean-life.

His interest in creatures from dark depths was something she had no qualm telling him wasn’t to her taste. The first time he told her he would like to go out and swim into less shallow ends, she looked at him like he was bluffing. Like what he was telling her was a mere joke. At his insistence, she gave in, with much reluctance.

They swam toward the black, but never entered past where the dim sunlight ended. She told him it was an uninteresting place down there, and was rather disgusting. Made it obvious that she thought his choice was inferior to her own.

Tristan didn’t ask her to accompany him after that. He would only tell her he was going out, until it got to the day he knew it didn’t matter if he informed her of his whereabouts or not. She occupied her time and he was expected to do the same.

Being in this unfathomable space, he found a sense of peace. There was so much life here, unseen and unwanted by all above the surface.

He isn’t sure if anyone in his family had this desire for the darkness of the ocean, but he knows that he takes after his grandfather. Where once, Tristan shared the similar dolphin tail to swim, the more time he spent on his own, exploring, sensing, he found his own identity. His fin elongated, skin becoming sharp. No longer as agile or fast, but powerful all the same.

He pushes onward, tail propelling him downward still. Lost in thought and the feeling of not knowing where to go, but believing that if he keeps moving, he’ll eventually reach somewhere.

“I don’t like it,” Perfuma objects, arms crossed.

Hydrangea bites back a sigh, “Mom, it won’t be forever.”

“I think she’ll be able to handle herself,” Scorpia says.

“But for more than a year—”

Hydrangea sets down her teacup, “Mom, I know you’re worried about what will happen, but I would be among friends. And we would use a portal to help speed up the trip.”

Perfuma frowns, looking down at the table.

Scorpia turns to her daughter, “Hydrangea, hon, where is it you’re going again?”

“Inicos,” she explains again. “That planet where a majority of her uncles went to.”

Scorpia turns to her wife, “See, that’s good! That’s a planet where she’ll be more than okay.”

Perfuma rubs her temples. The idea of Hydrangea being gone for that long isn’t one that is sitting well with her. She would prefer if she remained in place. A child needs roots; what good would it do her to be away from home for that long? And there’s the fact it’s Odessa. There is no chance that this will be a one time thing. Hydrangea has been her friend for years; Odessa is too much like her mother—fixated on her goals.

“Mom, I don’t see any reason why you should be against this,” Hydrangea tells her.

Perfuma rises from her seat, “I’m going to bed. I will think about this.”

Hydrangea watches her mother go, knowing better than to continue her argument.

Scorpia sighs, “I’ll see if I can talk to her about it later.”

“Okay. There’s time left, but I would prefer to know sooner than later. You know how Odessa can be,” she replies, smiling.

Scorpia nods, sipping from her mug. There’s no reason for Perfuma to reject the notion, and with little base to go on. She knows Perfuma means well. She always does.

Once she encourages Hydrangea to retire for the evening as well, Scorpia leans against her bedroom door; she stares at Perfuma, brushing long yellow hair. Approaching her, Scorpia leans down to kiss the top of her head.

“I’m not wrong to be worried,” Perfuma says.

“I know.”

“I just…” Perfuma trails off, gently setting down her brush. “Hydrangea is growing up so fast, and I would prefer that she spend her time here, with her family.”

“I know it can be difficult. But when I was her age, I was getting ready to go out into the world.”

“Not for good reasons,” Perfuma says.

“The reasons aren’t really the point,” Scorpia says, holding up flaxen locks in a claw. She tried brushing Perfuma’s hair, once; she clipped right through it, and, horrified, she refrained from touching her for a good while. With practice, she can do it now, but only because she forced herself to try again. Even now, though, she feels… out of place. Bizarre and incongruous. She doesn’t want Hydrangea to lose her connections. To feel alone, and not know who she is. “The point is to let her discover what she wants out of her life.”

Perfuma reaches behind her, trailing her fingers along Scorpia’s jaw, “I know…”

“Give it some thought, at the very least,” Scorpia tells her.

Glancing down, Perfuma meets her wife’s eyes in the mirror, “I will see how I feel.”

The brain floats in its case. Undisturbed.

Odessa furrows her brows, wondering what she should do. Should she inform her father of her true intentions, or should she wait until she finds something of value to offer him? To show that it’s worth the effort?

She has deliberated over it for a while. She doesn’t want to exclude her father from the potential discoveries that await within the stars. But Prime…

He’s beyond a sore subject for Hordak. Her father is confident, proud, and immovable. But when Prime is delved into, either on a shallow or intimate level, he becomes sullen and distant. Similar to how he used to be, according to her mother. It normally takes Entrapta to bring him out of whatever reverie decides to perturb his thoughts.

Is it really a good idea to bring it up?

Odessa is not the sort to believe her father is weak. To the contrary, she has the highest respect and adoration for Hordak. And that’s partly why she hesitates to confide in him her plans.

He will eventually find out, though. He might not be good at picking up lies, but he is suspicious by nature.

Folding her arms, Odessa sits back in her chair, allowing the front legs to hover in the air. If she kept it a secret, he wouldn’t like it, but he may understand her reasoning if she explained why.

Ethical dilemmas are the worst.

“Odessaaaaa!”

“Hey, Mom,” she says, looking up at the ceiling.

“So, I was wondering what to prepare for your journey, and your father suggested that we give you a mini portal,” Entrapta says, hanging upside down. “The portal to Inicos will save you some time getting there, but if you want to send us something of value ahead of your arrivals, a mini portal might help!”

“Oh, that’s a good point!” Odessa says, feeling uncomfortable. “I’ll thank Dad for the idea later…”

Entrapta brushes Odessa’s cheek with a lock of her hair, “What’s wrong? Do you feel bad?”

“A little,” Odessa admits. “I don’t like not telling Dad anything, and, perhaps, I’m being unfair to you too—for having you keep it under wraps right now.”

Entrapta sits on her hair, “It’s not too late to be honest with him. Your father can handle more than we give credit for.”

“I know he can, but he has reservations about anything involving Prime,” Odessa says, shifting the chair back and forth. “He didn’t object to going to the flagship, but everything that comes after might not be to his liking.”

Entrapta places her hands on her cheeks, leaning forward, “Maybe we can try again to hint at it?”

“Dad’s too smart,” she says, setting the chair legs back on the ground and mimicking Entrapta’s position.

Entrapta and Odessa sit in silence for a few moments, each wondering about the best course of action.

“I still feel we should tell him,” Entrapta says.

“I do too, but I don’t want to risk Dad getting upset.”

“Then… I won’t say anything until you do.”

“Thanks,” Odessa replies, staring at the brain in the jar.

She doesn’t know why she hesitates so much when it comes to this. But she has inkling he might not approve. That isn’t a potential circumstance she wants tainting this trip—that he might not give his full support if he knew that this whole thing was to find out their origins.

Tristan lays in his room, staring up at the ceiling. Music plays in his ears, low and smooth in its lull. He can hear the faint sound of seagulls beyond his window, which gives him a growing sense of calm.

A knock on the door disturbs that calm. Annoyed, he says, “Yes?”

Mermista enters the bedroom, walking in. She inspects the room for a moment before addressing her son, “Are you busy?”

“No,” he answers, continuing to look at the ceiling.

“Good,” she tells him, folding her arms. “Because you’re needed downstairs to discuss matters in Salineas.”

Tristan groans, “I don’t know why I need to be down there.”

Mermista raises a brow, “You’re the prince, that’s why.”

He waves a hand in the air, “Still don’t see why I should.”

“Because I say so, how’s that for a reason?” Mermista declares, turning on her heel. “Hurry up, we can’t keep members waiting.”

He doesn’t move, wanting to drown out everything.

“Tristan, I said now!” she snaps from outside the door.

At the command, he throws his arms in exasperation, getting to his feet in a huff, “Fine!”

Walking quickly through marbled walls, Mermista shakes her head at him, “It wouldn’t kill you to be more involved with your kingdom.”

Tristan rolls his eyes.

“Don’t give me an attitude,” Mermista chastises. Another shake of her head, and she pauses mid-step to reach for his hair. “You don’t look the least bit presentable!”

“You told me to get going right now, you can’t get upset about that!”

“You should’ve been getting ready a while ago,” Mermista says, continuing to—very poorly—comb through his locks.

He steps backward, waving an arm, “I’m not a child, stop touching my hair!”

“If you didn’t look like crap, I wouldn’t need to,” Mermista says.

Tristan flushes in embarrassment and anger, “I never look like crap.”

“Right now you do,” Mermista insists. “Straighten your back.”

“It’d be a lot easier to do that if you got off my back,” Tristan snaps.

Mermista turns to narrow her eyes at him. She lets out a groan, “You know what, go back to your room. If you’re going to be immature, I’d prefer you not be there.”

With that, she continues walking without him.

Tristan stands there, miffed. Another waste of time! What does she even want? Whirling, he stomps back to his room.

This whole place is fucking stupid.

Hydrangea approaches Perfuma in the garden. Her mother seems to be in a good mood, “Hey, Mom.”

Perfuma turns, smiling, “Hello, dear! Would you hand me that water container please?”

Doing so, Hydrangea decides to mosey through the pathway. She lifts her hand over a row of violets, brushing their petals lightly with her fingertips. They respond to her touch, swaying gently beneath her palm.

“Is there something that you wanted, sweetheart?”

Hydrangea doesn’t look at her, listening to the flowers hum quietly, “I was wondering if we could discuss the trip.”

“Oh? I thought we dropped the matter,” Perfuma replies, tone nonchalant.

“No, Mom, you did,” Hydrangea says, voice equally collected.

Perfuma walks over to another section, pouring water into the soil, “There’s no reason to give an attitude, my young blossom.”

“Mom, no one is giving an attitude to you,” Hydrangea says, turning to her. “You’re the one who’s been avoidant about the issue since I mentioned it. Don’t you think you should hear me out?”

Perfuma sighs. Setting down the water pitcher, she places a hand on her cheek, “Alright… what is it?”

“All I’m asking is to go on an expedition for a while. I don’t think it’s that large of a request.”

“I believe you’re forgetting that you are a princess; you can’t go wandering the galaxy whenever you please—you have responsibilities here to your people!”

“I don’t understand your resistance. You’re always telling me that the best way to understand others is by putting yourself in their position.”

“You don’t have to travel around to do that,” Perfuma scoffs. “You can learn everything possible right here on Etheria.”

“Mom.”

“You aren’t ready to go out and be away from home for so long.”

“Traveling the galaxy is infinitely more safe than fighting a war, yet you did the latter around my age.”

Perfuma sighs, irritated, “You are being too argumentative.”

“I’m not being argumentative,” Hydrangea says, keeping her voice even, despite her own growing sense of frustration. “I’m trying to explain to you why this isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. This could be a really good experience for me!”

Perfuma shakes her head, “You are asking for too much at your age. You should be concentrating on your duties here on Plumeria, as well as your studies.”

“I haven’t slacked at all when it comes to my princess responsibilities. My studies are just fine, not to mention that if I travel around, I can learn about plants from other planets.”

Perfuma clasps her fingers together, taking a deep breath. Count to ten…

Hydrangea waits, knowing not to interrupt.

“I’m going to be frank with you, Hydrangea. I don’t like the idea of you traveling without proper support.”

“I’m not without support—Tristan should be coming too, and Odessa is capable. We’re going to be communicating with her parents, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“They’re not going with you?!”

Crap… “No?”

“That’s even more reason to not let you!”

Her patience wears a little thin, though Hydrangea keeps her temper levelled, “Mom, this isn’t a scary trip that is going to harm me. We’re going to a planet that has lots of Odessa’s relatives, we have a portal to go back to in case we want to arrive sooner, and we’re always well-stocked on supplies.”

Perfuma inhales through her nose, exhales through her mouth. She can’t help but be nervous about the idea of her baby girl going through the universe with absolutely no parental guidance whatsoever. She might not be a young child, but she has a lot to learn. Scorpia thinks she is being too restrictive, even though she doesn’t believe so. She didn’t have her parents during formative years, and she would’ve wanted to have direction when she was around Hydrangea’s age.

But she knows that Hydrangea is determined to help Odessa in any way possible.

Perfuma walks over to her daughter, patting her shoulder. She stares directly at her face, solemn. Hydrangea stares at her, expectant. Sighing, Perfuma gives a small smile, “Very well. I feel this is against my better judgment, but you are free to go.”

Hydrangea breaks into a beaming grin, “Really?! Thanks, Mom!”

“I want you to let me know what’s going on every day, okay?”

“Mom, I can’t do that, I’ll be busy. Once a month?”

“Weekly.”

“Biweekly.”

“I guess that will do...” Perfuma gives in. She can’t help but hug her close when Hydrangea embraces her tightly in her arms.

Hydrangea couldn’t believe her luck—she was actually given permission to go! This is going to be awesome!

“You want to do what now?” Mermista asks.

“I want to go with Odessa and Hydrangea on a space trip.”

“No.”

“Why?” Tristan asks.

“I say so.”

Leaning his cheek against his palm, Tristan scowls, glaring at the fruit spread along the table.

Mermista doesn’t look up from her food, “If you continue to frown like that, you’re going to get wrinkles faster.”

Tristan bites back a retort, knowing there’s no point arguing.

“I don’t understand why you even want to go space travel. There’s nothing out there that’s important to us Salineans.”

Tristan rises from his chair, “Fine. I get it.”

Mermista watches him go. He’s been more insistent on being away from home the last several years; he didn’t spend much time here for about a decade or so, choosing to go frolic with his friends nearly every day, and it was more so when Odessa would return from her trips. Mermista is not quite sure if this is something that all teenagers go through, or just her son in particular.

She spent much of her time in Salineas, occasionally visiting her friends from other parts of Etheria. But Tristan is the opposite of that.

Sighing, she doesn’t bother to call him back, listening to the faint echo of his footfalls past the doors. If he wants to be a brat someplace else, that’s his issue.

Tristan strides through the hallway in a huff, discontent written across his face. Never breaking his pace, Tristan heads outside, where the once calm surface churned and frothed as a raging sea. Diving straight into the waves, his tail morphs the moment his skin makes contact with cold water. The weather was unexpected, but that’s fine—he loved storms.

Racing through the darkening ocean, Tristan swims northwest. He doesn’t think of anything—simply revels in the sensation of darting through water. Eventually, the seas revert to a quiet demeanor. Approaching nearby docks, Tristan catches the sounds of roughhousing and glass breaking. Changing from tail to legs, Tristan moves his arms in a simple motion, wrapping water around the lower half of his body, he lifts himself onto the pier.

Walking toward the tavern, Tristan enters the establishment. Without another thought, he slides to the right, avoiding a body that got flung in his direction. Not looking down at the unfortunate patron, Tristan heads to the center of the room, glancing around.

“Alright, men! What do you say we go set a couple boats on fire!”

Tristan turns in the direction of the voice, accompanied shortly after by exasperated groans and complaints.

“Well, don’t everybody jump up at once,” Seahawk complains.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll come around when they’re not hungover,” Tristan says.

Seahawk looks up, grinning from ear to ear, “Tristan, my boy!”

“Hey, Dad,” he replies.

“Pull up a seat, son! Barkeep, a drink for the young man!”

Tristan watches one of his father’s friends fall onto the floor, passed out. Taking the chair for himself, he says, “You seem to be in a good mood.”

Seahawk twirls his moustache, “Ho ho ho, my boy, you’ll be pleased to know that I have an expedition coming up! A crew and I are supposed to go south and find a coveted treasure that hasn’t been seen for hundreds of years!”

“Oh yeah? What’s it called?”

Seahawk hums to himself, then waves his hand, “I can’t remember right now. But it’s bound to be a glorious trek across the grand blue that is the sea!”

The bartender places a drink in front of Tristan, who nods his thanks before taking a generous gulp. Tristan sets the mug down, “That’s great! It’s been awhile since you’ve done anything like that.”

“Indeed, my boy. And what about you? Have you been answering the wild call?”

Tristan traces the side of his mug, “Odessa does have an expedition coming up that would be fun.”

“Ah, sweet Odessa! That girl is always ready to explore. Hydrangea is going too, I presume?”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”

“From the sound of it, you’re unsure about your place in this. Why don’t you go too?”

Tristan rolls his eyes, “You know how Mom can get.”

“My dear Mermista does tend to be unyielding,” Seahawk says, then shrugs. “Your mother doesn’t have to get upset about what she doesn’t know.”

Tristan smirks, “Dad, are you giving me permission to go?”

“No, but I’m not denying you the call to adventure, either!”

Shaking his head, Tristan takes another swig of beer. He slams it down on the table, much to his father’s delight. Seahawk shouts, “Barkeep, more of your finest alcohol, please!”

Tristan smiles to himself, relaxing in the midst of chaos. He might even sing a shanty with his dad for the shits and giggles of it.

Hordak has noticed a change in Odessa’s demeanor, however slight.

He didn’t think much of it, at first. She has been preoccupied with her upcoming mission, but she’s been working near non-stop since she returned from Prime’s flagship. Not wanting to pry into her affairs, Hordak believed it would be best to let her do as she pleases.

And it’s not that she’s pulling away from him. On the contrary, she’s always been an affectionate child with him and Entrapta. She’s, in essence, a good kid. But that’s the thing about good kids—they’re not total experts at covering up what they don’t want you to see.

Hordak comes up to Odessa, tinkering away with one of her personal tech projects. He leans slightly forward, “If you turn that bolt to the left, you should be able to get the polarity to work.”

Odessa, mutely, does so. At the sound of it working, she smiles at him, “Thanks, Dad!”

Smiling in turn, he pulls up a chair and sits beside her. He reaches for a wrench, and tightens a loose bolt, “You’ve been deep in thought as of late, Odessa. Are you excited for the expedition?”

“Yes! It’s going to be exciting,” she replies. She takes the wrench from her father with a lock of hair. “I haven’t heard from Tristan yet on whether he can come, but Hydrangea informed me her mothers are allowing her to go.”

Hordak gives a quiet nod. They enter the state of routine: Odessa works, and he watches. She asks for tools and he hands them to her. Their roles reversed from when she was a child. In addition, he gives her suggestions about what to do next and she’ll do it, or make notes for future projects. Hordak glances at Odessa. Not wanting to disturb the silence, but she breaks it first.

“What is it?” Odessa asks.

“Traveling to Inicos will take a fair amount of time,” Hordak begins. “Even with a portal taking you a part of the way, you will be absent for a while.”

Odessa giggles, looking up at him, “Aw, are you going to miss me, Dad?”

“Of course,” Hordak says, sincere. He turns to her, eyeing her movements. “You are my daughter. I want you to be safe on this mission. You’ve been gone before, but this is different…”

“It’s not too different,” Odessa replies, eyes centralized on her work. “I’ve been on trips before.”

Hordak inhales deeply, then exhales. “I know.” But there’s an aspect to this venture that is niggling the back of his mind. “You have a… passion for this journey that is dissimilar to the ones prior.”

Odessa’s hair moves around the table, skimming over the tools, “I guess I do.”

“Odessa.”

She looks up, meeting her father’s eyes.

“You would tell me about your goals, wouldn’t you?”

Odessa’s eyes flit over Hordak’s face, his expression earnest, open. “Yeah, Dad. I would.”

At his smile, Odessa stands up, “I’m going to get a snack. Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you. I’ll wait for you to return.”

“Okay,” Odessa tells him, walking out of the room.

Hordak’s smile fades, unable to shake that niggling sensation.

“Launch day!” Entrapta yells. “Are you excited, my little cupcake?”

“I’m born to be excited!” Odessa shouts.

The two look at each other, shaking their hands and screaming in anticipation. Emily spins in a circle, letting out a long beep, as Imp yells in his natural voice.

Hordak stands with his arms folded, chuckling.

Entrapta kicks her legs in the air, cackling at the top of her lungs, “This is an absolute thrill, and I’m not even going! Ooooh, my baby is going away for a while! Ah, I’ll miss seeing that cute widdle face every day!” For added emphasis, she squishes Odessa’s cheeks together, kissing her nose.

Odessa doesn’t pull away, a light blush on her cheeks, “I know, Mom. I’m gonna miss you too.”

Withdrawing, Entrapta goes into scientist-mode, “Now, remember: your uncles will be there to greet you and answer any questions you may have. By the time you arrive in Inicos, they should have a portal functioning again, so they can send you back to Etheria directly. Make sure to contact them when you are nearby.”

Odessa nods, shaking in place. Her heart always beats faster when she’s about to head out into space. She hasn’t been to Inicos in a long time, that it’ll practically be new. She has so much to look forward to! She hopes this won’t be a dead end before her true exploration begins.

She looks to her left, waving, “Gea! You’re here!”

Hydrangea walks up, Scorpia at her side, “Hey!”

Entrapta scuttles over to Scorpia, the two going for a large hug. Scorpia picks up Hordak, and he shakes his head in resignation, despite the smirk on his face.

“Must you?” he asks.

“Every time, Lord Hordak!” Scorpia teases.

“Scorpia,” he threatens.

“Whoa, haven’t heard that tone for years!” Scorpia says, setting him down. “Brings back memories.”

“I know,” Entrapta says in a softer tone, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Hordak blushes, clearing his throat.

Hydrangea glances around the hanger, “Where’s Tristan?”

Odessa shrugs, “I’m not sure. I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

“He’ll be here soon, I think,” Hydrangea replies.

Odessa isn’t sure. She’s been holding out on his reply for weeks. Well, it’s not that she isn’t sure about his intentions; it’s his parents she isn’t certain of, and even then it’s just the one.

Hydrangea touches her shoulder, “I’m going to get my things inside the ship. Relay the plan to me when I get back.”

“Alright,” Odessa says. Arms folded, she taps her fingers quickly against her skin.

The hours pass and Odessa sets the final cargo in Celeste’s compartments. Sighing, growing frustrated and upset, she continues moving about the ship.

Hydrangea stares out at the front, equally worried.

Entrapta walks up to Odessa, “Has he arrived yet?”

“No.”

“I have everything set up for you in the cockpit,” Entrapta says, sitting on her hair.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Entrapta pats her back, “You still have an hour before you head out.”

“I know.”

Hydrangea suddenly yells, “Tristan! There you are!”

Odessa looks up, screaming at him, “You son of a bitch, where’ve you been?!”

Tristan runs up to them, an apologetic grin on his face, “Packing!”

Hydrangea holds a hand to her chest, “Thank goodness, we were beginning to worry.”

“If you missed out on this trip, I was going to be pissed at you forever,” Odessa tells him.

Tristan laughs, placing his luggage in the ship, “Well, you can love me more now.”

Odessa rolls her eyes, despite the smirk on her face.

Soon enough, they’re heading inside the spaceship. Entrapta is squealing in joy, kissing Odessa’s face. Scorpia hugs Hydrangea tightly, and pulls Tristan in for good measure.

“Have fun! Keep me updated on all the cool stuff you find!” Entrapta says.

“You got it, Mom!” Odessa replies, giving a salute.

Hordak comes up to her, patting the top of her hair, “Take care, Odessa.”

She pushes the top of her head into his palm, “I will. You know me, I can handle anything.”

He smiles down at her, “I know you can. But…”

“But?” she repeats, eyes bright and alert.

“Nothing,” he replies. He draws his arms behind his back, “I wish you safe travels.”

Odessa beams at her parents, kissing both of them on the cheek. She runs into Celeste, and waves at her family as the ramp closes, “I’ll see you all soon!”

Hydrangea and Tristan are already in the cockpit, awaiting her instructions.

“You guys ready?”

“Ready!” they crow together.

“Let’s go!”

Celeste rises into the air, and once it breaks the atmosphere, it gives a jolt of energy and light.

Scorpia wipes her eyes, “Ah, I forget they’re not little anymore.”

Entrapta pats her shoulder, “We made food, do you want to join us?”

“That’d be nice,” Scorpia says.

Entrapta turns to Hordak, “You coming?”

“In a moment,” Hordak replies, staring up at the sky.

Smiling, she pushes up from the ground on her pigtails, placing a soft kiss on his lips, “She’ll be okay.”

Hordak’s gaze scans the stars. Wondering if he should’ve been more forthright with his thoughts. He supposes he can talk to her at a later point…

Observing the sky, he waits until it darkens before heading inside.

#entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #odessa #entrapdak fankid #shera #spop

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rigelmejo · 3 years

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sometimes it is a bit frustrating how purist some language learning forums can be about their learning method being best and unquestionable, unable to find resources from more. like, i get liking a study method that works for you, we all do! i do not get shooting down resources that can and already helped someone, just because they didn’t help you personally (or you don’t like using them particularly), so it makes it hard for another person to find those resources and discourages using them in the first place.

the post (featuring some interesting links) by Strong-Philosophy-46 : https://www.reddit.com/r/Refold/comments/n09cxk/i_think_shadowing_should_be_used_in_the_early/

from all what I've read, shadowing seems to improve phonemic awareness (the ability to hear phonemes), listening comprehension and even pitch accent in Japanese. Which all seem to be the whole point of doing an only input/no output period in the beginning.

I was on the Refold reddit again (used to be massiveimmersionapproach). And someone mentioned that shadowing may have benefits earlier on in language study - compared to Refold, which does do shadowing but not until you are basically passively able to comprehend most things to all overall things in a language (so 1-2 years into study at least). Refold insists it is efficient (I would argue while it certainly is, it amounts to srs flashcards to speed up memorization and lots of comprehensible input and ambiguous input which generally will help learners at any stage improve comprehension skills). And that its goal in mind is to learn effectively.

I sort of think, to a degree, some people who do Refold appreciate the fact there’s no encouraged output early on - either they don’t like talking, practicing with people, don’t feel comfortable writing grammar until they have a much more solid foundation compared to when textbooks make you from day 1 (that last reason’s a big reason I tend to put off output until I know more grammar). Now its great to do what you prefer! Because it will get you to KEEP studying, and that’s always more effective and efficient than what makes you give up/avoid the language. So in that sense yes avoiding output until later, if you desire, is probably the more effective choice to make.

But at the same time? Refold encourages NOT doing output sooner, even if you feel the urge and even if some Refold studiers outputted sooner, the general consensus is ‘you will mess up accent, build bad habits, sacrifice your eventual output quality’ so people tend to discourage it. By earlier I mean like 5 months, in 10 months in - not day 1 of study. So if research happened to find, that shadowing at those earlier stages of 5 months etc actually Improves long term output skills? Then that’s great! It shows Refold’s tendency to discourage output until excellent passive comprehension fluency is achieved is unnecessary, and if you desire to output sooner (and it will motivate you, since what’s most effective is always what you’ll DO versus quit), then it would be great to know shadowing is something you can do sooner! And that it may even help your goals faster!

As I mentioned, Refold still eventually encourages shadowing after you’ve reached a high level of comprehension fluency - and at that point, you still have to do all the same shadowing techniques and work (you don’t get to skip steps, though the sounds might be more familiar). So ultimately Refold does use shadowing and already knows its helpful. I do wonder though if some people feel they need to justify their desire to not output earlier as ‘its better for my skills to Wait.” When like... in some ways that sounds to me just like perhaps a textbook/classroom learner who refuses to try to read target language novels for 2 years because they haven’t learned “the skills yet” and might misinterpret the grammar of what they read or reinforce fuzzy understanding - even though no matter how long its put off, immersion in target language content will eventually have to happen and be practiced.

Like, the unwillingness to do shadowing earlier even if it proves to be more effective - especially if the arguement is “oh well despite proof i think it will be less effective” just rings to me like people trying to avoid what they dislike. And i think its fine to avoid what one dislikes, because for an individual it IS going to be more effective always than quitting. I just also think that Reason is good enough on its Own - there is no reason to belittle other learning approaches and strategies as less effective (especially if its proven they are more effective, but even just if someone finds them useful they’re effective to the person who will do them), when your reason of ‘i prefer not to yet’ is really good enough. Its good enough.

Just to emphasize, I’ve seen the exact opposite - traditional learners claiming ‘refold’ is ineffective and should be avoided and it ‘slows’ progress and is inefficient and a waste of time. I really do think those kinds of discouragements just keep learners who might learn or simply prefer to study DIFFERENT from you from finding wonderful ideas/materials/resources that may suit them much better, simply because a person would rather shoot down offering more resources rather than just say “well that’s useful to someone, but for me I hated doing it so I do it this way since it works better for me/I can stay motivated.”

When I started studying chinese, I looked up lots of “how to read chinese” articles and forum posts. Since I wanted to read asap. I found some good advice. I also found a lot of angry posts. There were some people on chinese learner forums who insisted one must learn up to HSK 6 vocabulary (some were huge proponents of using anki, some hated anki - i relate to the can’t do flashcards crowd lol). And then even after that, start with graded readers, learn 3000+ hanzi before being able to tackle target language novels made for natives with a dictionary. Its pretty clear from what I describe, they probably had a personal preference for little ambiguity when engaging with chinese (too much incomprehensible input would cause them to want to quit/burn out and that’s perfectly understandable since most people generally don’t like tolerating under 95-98% comprehension).

They were very opposite of the Refold method’s idea of immersing in content from day 1, so huge amount of ambiguity for many months. Well these people on this forum really insisted reading in chinese even with a dictionary was an insurmountable task without years of study. I obviously ended up not following their preference. But they didn’t talk about it like “oh I dislike ambiguity so I prefer to prepare this much to make the material tolerable to immerse with” they instead talked about it like “doing it any other way is hopeless and will result in needing to do this anyway.”

I ended up following the advice of people who wanted to learn like I like learning - I found examples of people who did it more like I would, knew they succeeded so I’d have some success, and copied them. There really are all kinds of methods for different people and needs/wants. I read an article of a guy who read some radical basics (me too), learned 2000 common words in memrise with a linked deck (I did it too it took 2 months, but I spread it out over 4 months of a month on then a break then another month on). Then they said they just started reading, with a dictionary, learning more words from there. I did that too - it worked for me too. I also knew from prior japanese study I needed hanzi learning help so i read a reference for maybe 500 hanzi during those months. I knew from french prior study I did better reading a grammar summary ahead of reading, so I did that too (before the common words, it took 2 weeks). I did NOT end up having to wait for years, to learn up to HSK 6, to start reading with a dictionary (my initial goal). It took about 8-10 months for the grammar to click enough that vocab lookup became the only issue, and one month burst studying about 500 more hanzi in a Hanzi Mnemonic Anki deck to quickly learn some hanzi I was running into in reading and just wanted to remember easier. So about a year in, I could move to just reading for enjoyment and looking up words with a dictionary without new hanzi frustrating me (learning them the same as words now just looking them up) and without grammar confusing me. So that base goal, that some people’s experiences learning up to HSK 6 I read - they could not even tackle some graded readers by HSK 6.

I think part of what held back their progress there was just... not wanting to immerse and insisting it would be ‘too hard’ to try sooner. While its fine if it kept them studying, for people like me who need to engage right away? It could’ve been discouraging and caused some people to feel less motivated if they happened to be setting up such expectations. I still don’t know a lot of HSK 6 words, and about 2/3 maybe of HSK 5 words? After HSK 4 the common 2000 words I studied didn’t match up as much to HSK, and also I started picking up words mainly in my reading and shows so now what words I know is much more related to the genres I engage with. I’ve read some stats that The Little Prince has a low unique word count but about 50% of the words aren’t in HSK - so if you learned only from HSK without outside sources, its still not necessarily 98% comprehensible. Whatever smattering I learned from must have shared more words than 50% (though not 98% either I don’t think - not quite that easy).

My point is just like... yeah I am aware the lack of listening i did in french held me back, the lack of shadowing/producing in chinese is now my weaker area. I know i avoid them more because i’m less interested and mainly just would not be as motivated to write a journal/talk regularly right now as i am in other things. But i also think if people learn differently? Things may work better for them, we all have different preferences. Anything useful, that might get someone To study, I think is worthwhile to share.

#article #april #refold #mia #yeah i ran into some wild takes on chinese language learner forms #massive immersion approach is usually pretty chill because its flexible #but certain things i think relate to a lot of ppl who do it not liking the output skill work as much #which like. its fine. but also there's other studiers out there who love output and its how they get so good!#like people who choose to speak only in the language when they start learning - ive seen people do that for korean and chinese #and it worked well for them though id n #Neverrrrr wnat to do it personally #but them sharing what they did could help someone who learns/appreciates those activitities the same way a

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