#a retelling

[incorrecttml]

matthew knies, over text: i just wanted to say i have a massive crush on you

bobby mcmann: oh

bobby: who’s the other guy?

kniesy: i added him for moral support

bobby: LMAOOOO ARE YOU SERIOUS

jospeh woll: i’m here for you man

woller: do your thing

[keatoncollective]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24635941/chapters/59522086

Imp hopped through the vents, knocking some covers loose to clatter to the floors below as he went. The alarms blared on, but it wasn’t a completely uncommon occurrence. He sniffed, tracing the oil-sweet-electric smell. She always smelled vaguely of his Maker, which made tracking easier to find.

He poked at the vent where her scent was strongest, shifting a pile of food wrappers that were securely tucked into the ducts to get better access to the opening, giving it a little rattle that couldn’t be heard over the continuous noise. He could make out her voice, but only just. The grate shifted, but didn’t give right away. He was just using his sharp little claws, picking at a screw that seemed to have jimmied itself into an awkward position, when he heard a door slide open. His ears perked when he heard the object of his search increase her voice, his head cocking. Her voice was normally excited, but this sounded… unhappy. And when she was unhappy, Maker was unhappy.

His ears swivelled forward, focused, as the one that smelled like fur-anger-static confronted his Maker’s partner.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Ghost Ships at Midwinter

I’ve always been fond of stories that have an ending that could be either lovely or terrible, depending on the way you choose to interpret it. This is a Dutch seafarer’s legend I found in a sadly incoherently sourced book from the seventies. It has tragic lovers and ghost ships and I like it.

It's about a dashing young sailor who's sharp as a tack and bright as the day, but with too quick a tongue and too cheeky a grin. And everyone knows he's a good man, but everyone also knows it's a good thing that he's a sailor, because a man such as that will never settle down.

Except he falls in love with a sweet, rosy girl and he puts stars in her eyes with his words and she puts lead in his feet with her love, because he never wants to leave her ever again.

Still, sailors do as sailors must and his ship, The Expectation, is sailing out in the morning. And Jamie (he has a silly name in Dutch, let's call him Jamie) he's loud and boisterous because he's missed the sea. And little Marianne is not afraid to let him go, because she knows he'll come back. He promised.

Except it's a journey of three months, and The Expectation doesn't return.

Every day little Marianne walks to the harbour, on het dainty feet, with her long, fair hair playing in the wind and her starry eyes looking up at the people at the docks and she asks:

"Any news of The Expectation?"

And they're all forced to shake their heads.

And three months turn into four, then five, then six, and little Marianne still goes to the harbour every day, but she doesn't ask after The Expectation anymore. The Expectation is overdue, lost at sea, but still she asks every time:

"Any news of my Jamie?"

And every time she asks it hurts the harbour masters more to have to shake their heads.

The whole year turns around, and then another, and Marianne stops asking. She still walks to the harbour, but she simply looks at the sea, with the wind tugging on her fair hair and her little feet planted on the shore. And her smile has grown near paper-thin, but it is still so sweet.

She grows pale now, instead of rosy, and the stars in her eyes dim. Her hair is still fair, but it grows white instead of golden, and her feet are still dainty but no longer as quick.

The years pass, leaf over leaf, and the seasons make themselves known as they always do and midwinter comes again. And the grey skies turn black as the sun sets to begin the longest night.

And in that darkness, a bell starts ringing. The lighthouse bell rings and rings and rings.

No ship should sail in the stormy winter seas, but the bell only rings for a ship. A ship does come into port.

And the townspeople pour from their houses, with running feet and shawls hastily wrapped around themselves because the cries from the harbour are that there is a ship. And these are keen eyes, some of which have built every vessel that ever left this place and one voice, stunned but self-assured cries out:

"It's The Expectation!"

Marianne's little feet are quick again, quicker than anyone else of the town. She runs to the docks, hair flying in the wind, but there the town is all assembled and they are standing in shocked silence. Because it is not The Expectation, not just The Expectation.

In the mist on the horizon, dancing above the dark sea, there is a fleet of ships dancing on the waves. And the townspeople recognize them. The Expectation, the Roose, the Lady Anne Riis, the Maiden of Utrecht... All ships that were lost at sea. Some of them gone for so long that people barely remember them.

And still the lighthouse bell rings and rings and rings, but, looking up at the tower, the bell hangs unmoving. And in the shocked, staring silence of the crowd and old sailor speaks up, his voice rough with age but soft with awe and says:

"Midwinter... At midwinter once in a hundred years, all those who were lost at sea can come into port."

And the town looks, at the ghostly silhouettes of ships that float on the sea but do not draw any closer and they nod. These ships were lost, and now they have returned. This is things made right.

Slowly, one by one, bowing their head in reverence and remembrance, the people of the town turn away. They turn from the sea and return to their homes. To warmth and light and carefully fastened doors. Because this is a Midwinter of spirits and they are alive.

But little Marianne does no such thing. Her head is not bowed, her chin in raised. And she walks straight towards the sea. Suddenly there are lights, lights like lanterns carried by unseen hands seem to be dancing in the mist.

Marianne doesn't feel when her feet dip into the water, she has her head raised, her eyes fixed on the mist full of light and she raises her sweet voice so that it drowns out even the wind:

"Any news of my Jamie?”

The townspeople see her at the edge of the water, but they do not hear the voice. But Marianne hears it, coming from behind a lantern, and a shadowy shape that might be a rowboat.

"Yes! Yes, come little Marianne and you'll go to him!"

And in that moment Marianne's cheeks were rosy once again, the stars returned to her eyes and her dainty feet stepped into the water, into the mist, into the Midwinter vision. With a laugh of happiness drifting in the wind the last single thing, to promise that little Marianne had found her Jamie again.

[blazingacrossthesky]

I posted this review for More than Enough on Amazon for this book and I JUST found out that the author has a tumblr so I figured I’d repost it here and tag them so they see it! Everyone should read this book, ace and non-ace alike!

Oh. My. God. This book. I bought the paperback version of this book and put it on my shelf because I loved it that much. But, originally, because I couldn't wait any longer, I caved and bought the Kindle version and started reading it as soon as it was in my Mac's library. When I read it and after the book was over (it took me about 6 hours to read in total, give or take) I found myself crying, a lot, and like the main characters in this retelling, I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. I myself am asexual and this book was an incredibly emotional read for me because for the first time ever I finally felt seen. I am Fier. I have been Fier. I am still Fier. Fier is me. To finally see what I was going through and who I am being put so eloquently into words was something indescribable--it felt like a mixture of relief, a little bit of pain and sadness from remembering a recent experience dealing with my sexuality, validation, and longing for someone as loving, kind, and understanding as Petra. I do not know if the author of this book will see this review but if they do, thank you @ajumbleofpages​ for writing this, thank you for the visibility, thank you for the representation, it means way more to me than you know. I will not only recommend this book to everyone I know, I will treasure it forever. If you are ace and even if you aren't ace, I highly encourage you and urge you to read this book. It is beautifully written: the language Elizabeth Wambheim employs throughout the tale is incredibly expressive and all in all the book is a work of linguistic art. You will not regret it if you pick it up. Buy the book in digital or paperback format here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1976225418/ref=oh_aui_detailpage_o02_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

[mushizone]

Viktor knew

A retelling of one of the part in Ejen Ali season two, part one of Misi: Orientasi

Ali was strangely restless today. He barely talked to Viktor, though paying attention just well so Viktor didn’t say anything about the obvious gleam in his eyes as Ali wandered off to his own world.

 The bell barely rang when a swoosh movement behind him caught Viktor off guard from putting his books into his bag. He raised his head up. Ali ran out of the class, seeming in rush. His eyebrows raised.

 “Ali?” Viktor called out, but of course Ali was too far ahead to hear.

 Weird. Ali didn’t say anything exciting throughout the day, except that he couldn’t wait for school to finish. It’s not like he didn’t know Ali. Just like him, Ali often spent his time at home, doing homework and playing game whenever Viktor invited him over.

 Though, for the past few months, he noticed his best friend changed. For the better, he could tell, because Ali was more focus in class now and he rarely did careless mistakes anymore. At least, lesser than what he used to be.

 He had his suspicions, but he couldn’t let them out for Ali to hear anytime soon. Not when Alicia always threatened Ali to be careful and don’t do anything stupid, even when Ali wasn’t in the state of doing such in her presence. And definitely not when he could see the clear similarity between Ali’s appearance and the now silent Cyberwira’s, yet Ali didn’t even bother to boast about him being the admired figure.

 Ali was keeping it quiet, and Viktor didn’t want to pry what he shouldn’t.

 The only interesting thing happened to his best friend lately was that he was recruited into the Stamp Club, a club he only knew of the existence yesterday. That was his sole lead, and Viktor had no other choice anyway. So he went to the pitiful club room, hope rising as the door was slightly opened, much to his delight.

 “Ali?” Viktor didn’t wait for long because the next second his best friend fumbled out of the room, Comot in tow. Now that the white cat was in his sight, he noticed that Ali didn’t bring her to class today. So she was here all along?

 “What are you doing? Why did you went out so fast earlier?” Viktor asked him mundane questions, yet Ali was looking so stiff. Right then he knew that one, Ali didn’t expect Viktor would be there, and two, that Ali didn’t know how to answer him and three, that his brain was racking for some cover up.

 “Uh…for Stamp Club of course.”

 That was a fact.

 Still, both Viktor and Ali knew club activities would mostly be done once a week. “Didn’t you had one yesterday? Today too?”

 This club was something else then. The deal with the library was fishy enough. Everyone would see it as Alicia doing her job properly, punishing the unruly student and watching the said student while she could be somewhere else. But Viktor had been with Ali for so long, and wasn’t it doubtful that whenever Ali was gone, Alicia did too?

 Ali smiled sheepishly, “I know right! Well, I did came in late.”

 Connecting one and one together, Viktor raised his eyebrows a bit. “Why do you seem so excited to go?” Viktor peeked from Ali’s shoulder to see what inside. “Oh?” Perhaps the school renovated the room, and it was fancy, unlike what the outside view showed. “Is it fun?”

 Ali’s panicky expression couldn’t be mistaken for a happy one, but he knew for sure that Ali wanted him to go away fast, for the reason he didn’t want to accidentally said something he shouldn’t, and because he did was excited for the club.

 Though, Ali spread his arms to prevent Viktor from seeing the club room, as though a stamp book was a bizarre thing. It was, because who used stamp nowadays? But it would be Viktor’s amusement, if Ali had a stamp collection he hided somewhere in his room. Ali’s reaction to Viktor’s sudden enthusiasm was an indicator, that Ali was the worst liar he ever met.

 “Eh? Ah…I-” Ali gulped. Viktor’s laid back act made him nervous, but he was fast to think of something, though it was a poor attempt. “Not fun at all! It’s really boring. Besides, the student’s intake is full. If there’s too many students, there’s won’t be enough stamp!”

 At most everyone knew that Alicia and Ali were the official members of the Stamp Club, and probably the only ones. Say Viktor was talking nonsense, but he pretty sure these two places, the library and this club room, had a hidden pathway to their secret thing.

 Viktor was silly for putting the school best student into his ridiculous thought, but how could he not.

 “.…really?” Viktor narrowed his eyes, because for sure nobody would be interested to be in the old school club. But it’s not like Viktor would be getting the answers he wanted to hear soon, so he shrugged. “Well then. When you are done later, we meet online, okay?” Viktor bid him goodbye, and went away.

 Guess he would be keep in the dark for as long as it took, huh?

[tigstripe]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

The final chapter has been posted! And with that, I mark the first submission (of many, hopefully) of mine into this fandom. This was a lot of fun to write. I’m rather proud.

Please, leave any comments you want to, I would love to hear from other fans.

[kierarutherford]

White Santinalia

Here it is! My Christmas baby. We have for you today, and until Christmas a story based off the 1954 movie, White Christmas. My all time FAVORITE Christmas movie, I watch a MILLION times each December and NEVER get tired of. 

So my changes are: modernized. It’s a current day telling which creates it’s own dynamics. Also I have added a twist. The ski resort owner (the General in the movie) is now a gay couple (and 2 Generals). It’s a small twist but I like it. 

We have Alistair Theirin, Cullen Rutherford as the army partners. We have two OC girls, Kiera Lavellan and Niera Surana playing the sisters role. The General(s) are Duncan and Greagior. 

I’m trying to pump out a chapter a day, we’ll see how that goes. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, we have 2 chapters with this first release.

Chapter 1: Home for Santinalia Chapter 2: Jingle All the Way