[Fic] “In Spite of Time, and Death, and the Space Between the Stars” - Homestuck
Summary: Jade calls her little brother one week before his birthday. (825 words)
In Spite of Time, and Death, and the Space Between the Stars
Jade calls her little brother one week before his birthday.
She thinks it’s a terrible idea as soon as she finishes dialing. He’s going to die in a week. Rose has seen it. She’s seen it, through viewscreens in the Medium. What’s the point of reestablishing contact when she’s only going to lose him for good and for keeps in a handful of days? Besides, they’ll end up fighting — they always do — and she doesn’t want her last memory of him to be voices raised in anger.
The phone rings five times before he picks up. She’s about to push the ‘end call’ button on her latest cell phone when the tinny fake bell cuts out and she hears his voice, a little wavery and cracked around the edges with age but still familiar down to her bones.
"Hello?" he says.
"Hi, John," Jade says. "Long time no see."
"Yes," he agrees. "Two years for any real contact, and it’s been a few months since I even glimpsed you in passing down in LA. I’ve been forced to rely on newspapers and television for any information on your health and whereabouts, and they can be so enthusiastically misguided. Is it true that you’re setting up a super secret South Pacific volcano island lair from which to pursue your goals of worldwide technological dominion? Or are you simply taking a long-deserved vacation?"
"Secret lair, I’m afraid. Complete with my own midget henchman, muahaha," Jade says, glancing over at Jake, who is sitting on damp sand and slapping at each new incoming wave with cross-eyed determination.
DAWN OF THE FINAL DAY
Only 29 hours remain to SIGN UP FOR JADEFEST.
What is Jadefest?
Jadefest is a fandom gift exchange all about Jade. You will be assigned to one other participant and create a fic/drawing/video for them, and you will receive a fic/illustration/video of your own.
Sign ups close at 11:59 PST Saturday, 15 February.
Before signing up, you should look at our:
If you have any questions or concerns, or need an AO3 invite, please email us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
I decided to sign up after all. What the heck, I didn’t need my free time anyway. *grin*
wherein Liz throws a story fragment at the internet in hopes that it will somehow kindle writing inspiration
From the department of “stories I am still working on, I swear!” — that tragically still untitled Dave/Jade/Terezi crossdressing porn.
Here, have an excerpt:
When the retaliatory tickle fight is over — Jade and Terezi win, since the corset ruins Dave’s ability to hold his breath and keep a poker face — Jade snuggles down between her girlfriend and boyfriend and says, “I have one word.”
"Nuclear," Dave suggests.
"Rifle," Terezi offers.
Jade wiggles her fingers dismissively. “So little imagination! No. The word is logistics. As in, how do we work around the corset? It takes a whole bunch of positions off the table.”
Dave makes a scandalized face. “Harley! All these years and you never told me you were into tables? For shame. Think of all the fun we’ve missed.”
This is a blatant, stupid lie, since they had sex on and against his coffee table just last month, but whatever. Jade sticks out her tongue and forges onward. “Like, your breath control’s going to be weird and you can’t bend as far as normal, not with the corset ribs jabbing you if you twist the wrong way. So we have to make plans.”
This time Dave makes an offended-hissy-cat face. “Oh Jesus, not another negotiation scene.”
"Yes, another negotiation scene," Terezi corrects. "Negotiation is very sexy and I know you think so too, but if you want to play unimpressed, Jade and I won’t stop you. Just be aware that there will be punishments for breaking character, should you choose that route."
"Punishments, you say? What kind of punishments?”
"The sexy kind, duh," Jade says. "Come on, people, the faster we figure this out, the faster we can all have sex. Yay sex! Such happy, many cool. Wow."
Dave rolls his eyes at her. Jade thinks Terezi does the same, but without visible pupils and with trolls’ thick, non-wrinkly skin it’s a little hard to tell.
"Fine. You’ve beaten me into submission with your superior mastery of internet memes," Dave says. "In honor of that achievement — and in no way, shape, or form should this be construed as a comment on my breath control or lack thereof while wearing this bodacious body gear vulgarly known as a corset — I will lie on my back with my legs open and think of Texas while you deflower me. T-Z can sit on my face."
I cannot believe this fic is over 11,000 words long and I still haven’t reached the actual sex. (Also, I think I’ve been writing it for 18 months now. *headdesk* Time management is not my friend…)
[Fic] “The Transient and the Eternal: Giving up” - Angel Sanctuary
I’m doing thirtyforthree again, this time for Kira Sakuya/Mudo Setsuna/Mudo Sara from Kaori Yuki’s Angel Sanctuary. There will be spoilers in nearly every theme — given the characters, it’s nearly impossible to avoid them! — and a lot of potentially objectionable content. This is because the source manga has a lot of potentially objectionable content. If incest squicks you, or you know you’ll be bothered by some unusual and often negative interpretations of Judeo-Christian theology, you probably won’t want to read any of these stories.
With that said…
The Transient and the Eternal: Kira/Setsuna/Sara, or Lucifer/Alexiel/Jibril, through the changing years and incarnations. What lasts and what falls away?
Theme: #3 - Giving up
Notes: This fic is set way the hell pre-manga, and is the bridge between Get out (in which Jibril visits Alexiel in Eden) and Love bites (in which Jibril makes a bargain with Nanatsusaya). As always with this project, I am assuming Jibril was a lot more active in protesting the state of heaven than Raphael gives her credit for. (2,500 words)
The Transient and the Eternal: Giving up
Lucifer held out his hand, and Alexiel placed her fingers in his grasp.
"You carry the sword," he said as he gathered her close and spread his wings. "I don’t know how far the suppression field extends, and there’s no point leaving you defenseless."
Alexiel gripped the hilt of his sword between suddenly sweaty palms and braced herself for the dizzying swoop of flight.
This wasn’t freedom — she could never be free, not until God stopped toying with Rosiel — but God wasn’t keeping his half of their bargain. Forging a new bargain with Lucifer gave her the chance to act, to reset the battlefield to her advantage.
"There will be pursuit," she said as Lucifer sprang into the air, his wings straining for purchase against the sky.
"I know," he said. His breath was hot on the back of her neck, tickling the edge of her ear. "I made arrangements. Once we pass through the gates of Atziluth, out of his direct influence, I can break the barriers around heaven and take us safely to hell. If we can’t reach the gates, I’ll play distraction. You will go here.” Directions and the image of a secluded house sliced through Alexiel’s mental walls and unfurled in her mind.
They flew past the limit of Eden’s aura. Power shocked through her soul like thunder.
She tore herself from Lucifer’s arms, her wings beating furiously, and raised his sword to strike. “Don’t touch me. And never presume like that again.”
kijikun asked: When I was a kid I chewed the feet off of Barbie dolls.
I’m having a lot of trouble deciding between ‘you didn’t chews the cannibal life’ and ‘you didn’t shoes the cannibal life’ this is very distressing
All of my Barbies were lesbian. In retrospect, that should have been a very big hint re: future sexuality.
My barbie dolls had epilepsy. Well, or whatever ailment I was obsessed with that week. Usually epilepsy.
Mine got really short haircuts before I pulled their clothes off and made them mud-wrestle while making growling noises like they were supposed to be dinosaurs or something.
Posts like this always make me happy. I like to imagine there are thousands of kids out there who take these little icons of consumerism and object female sexuality and use them to tell all the weird stories that said consumerism doesn’t find profitable. Tiny acts of resistance before we’re fully conscious of what we’re resisting.
Mine lived in a draconian sex-slavery palace run by the two evil ones, who bribed the ken dolls to be their enforcers. There was definitely a lot of costume-based humiliation for the rebellious ones. Also two of the slaves had matching scars from a motorcycle accident. They were girlfriends.
oh god. mine were always tied naked to the feet of various tables and chairs. also, lots of being thrown across saddles and kidnapped. Welp.
My sister and I thought our Barbies and Barbie knock-offs were a lot more interesting after our dog ate bits of them. *wry* Suddenly there was a dramatic car crash in their backstory! (Their cars were sneakers, because our parents didn’t think we needed accessories; they were right, btw.) This explained why one was missing a hand, and another was missing both legs below the knees and one arm up to the elbow.
Some of our other Barbies formed a punk rock band, just because they could. It was called Bloody Mary, and only had one (fictional) man in the lineup, because we had precisely one Ken doll and he was narratively occupied elsewhere — being useless, mostly. There were a lot of single mother households in our Barbie collective.
Somehow this never struck us as odd.