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rymenhild
secretly desires 
Meg Murry What's Your Ultimate Fandom OTP?
Shiver My Timber--A Pirate RPG
smooches 
Bran Davies What's Your Ultimate Fandom OTP?
Shiver My Timber--A Pirate RPG
If anyone writes me Hermione/Meg Murry, I will die of love.
I might just have to write the Kazul/Bran myself, though.
ETA:
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calanthe_b considers the model of the modern literary theorist here:When I know what is meant by 'deconstruct' and 'ideology',
When I can spot assumptions hegemonic from a mile away,
When I accept my preconceptions all need reconfiguring--
When I learn words like 'feminist' and use them without sniggering...
When I learn how to jettison all concepts common-sensible,
When I forget entirely what is meant by 'comprehensible',
In short, when I've adjusted to kaleidoscopic spectacle--
Well, then I'll be postmodern which is equally respectable!
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-10 03:01 am (UTC)But somehow, she doesn’t think that this girl standing in front of her is really going to want to hear that.
“Are you one of them?” Meg asks.
“One of who?”
“Are you an echthros?” She swallows, thickly, and Hermione watches her throat bobbing “You are, aren’t you?”
“I’m a girl,” Hermione says. “From Hogwarts.”
“What do you want from me?”
And Meg looks frightened, so terribly frightened, that Hermione cannot say what she wants to say, cannot reassure her, because Meg, heretofore, has only been a character in the dog-eared copies of books she read back before she believed in things like time travel or farandolae, and now that she does she can only try to imagine what might have happened if someone stepped into her world, and told her they knew all about her life. She imagines there would be terror. She imagines she would not want to know them, not want to try and understand how they knew so much about her. For her to know Meg this deeply, to understand that she has a baby brother named Charles Wallace and a father who was stuck in a tesseract and seven children who to her have not yet even been born, is a betrayal of a trust they cannot possibly form.
It’s harder being smarter than everyone else, Hermione wants to say, to extend the olive branch of similarity, even if one is in math and one is in magic and neither could exist in overlapping universes, except for the part where they do.
But she doesn’t say that. She can’t.
Because she looks at the frightened girl in front of her, really looks, and her mouth cannot find the words to break open the reality that has refused to be stable for Meg for so long. “Nothing,” she says. “Nothing at all.”
And Hermione tosses a handful of floo powder, and whizzes through dimensions, all the while wondering what it must be like to be a character in a book all your life, and never notice it but once.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-10 03:26 am (UTC)Fabulous! A wonderful way to put them together and a brilliant ending. Also, that is not an ethical issue I would have imagined coming up, but, yeah, good point. It would be odd if some random girl came up to me and started excitedly spouting all my innermost secrets...
*waits hopefully for
And yay for radio stations that play good music.
FANGIRL!
Date: 2004-11-10 04:38 am (UTC)The last line is absolutely perfect. The rest too, of course. I love the way Hermione knows exactly what she wants to say, but can't say it.
In return, something that I hope might improve your mood with regard to Wicked-fic. Sadly, I don't have canon here, so forgive discrepancies.
**
Elphaba was no one that day, that year. She was a broom sweeping floors, a pile of dark cloth, the most silent woman in a house of silence.
Glinda came to be seen, in a pink lace gown larger than the confessional stalls. Why bother with philanthropy if no one notices? "Such a lovely place, the maunt sanctuary. You do such good work here, with the hospice and all. I don't suppose a small donation would be... of course, I can't give much, but..."
Mother Yackle, overwhelmed by the size of Glinda's offering and the size of her tiara, led her guest through judiciously chosen sectors of the house, ending at the Mother's own parlor for more than a few glasses of sherry and something special from a colored glass bottle. The silent maunt folding the bedsheets went unnoticed.
When Glinda stumbled into the hall, tiara askew, a broom caught her. The broom had bony green hands protruding from her robes, and never turned her eyes upward. Glinda thought she recognized her: that manuscript picture, Lurline or the Kumbric Witch, perhaps? Some odd, familiar smell, like oil or parchment, filled the air. Glinda grasped at the broom-woman’s waist, fumbling for balance. The woman shuddered, squirreled out of Glinda’s grip, and looked up finally.
“Elphie? I never would have guessed you for a maunt.” Glinda laughed, shakily, drunkenly.
The broom-woman did not move. Her eyes said, I am no one, and I do not know you.
“You’re the Kumbric Witch, then, and you just look like my old roommate. See if I--”
Elphaba’s eyes blazed and her shoulders straightened, and suddenly Glinda was on the wooden floor, splinters sticking into her gown, staring up at some figure that gleamed and glinted and burned in Glinda’s vision. The Fairy? Ozma? The Witch?
Elphaba’s voice was rusty, but it burned. “No one,” she said, and the hall was empty, but for a woman in a torn pink lace gown and a pile of dark cloth.
No words, I tell you.
Date: 2004-11-10 03:28 am (UTC)What's Your Ultimate Fandom OTP?
Shiver My Timber--A Pirate RPG
And I'm sure it'll be even funnier once I've finished the Sandman series.
Re: No words, I tell you.
Date: 2004-11-10 04:40 am (UTC)If you refresh, you'll see that I wrote Fox some non-Elphaba/Glinda instead of writing the Kazul/Bran.
Am taking the evening off, though, so the Kazul/Bran might happen too.
Re: No words, I tell you.
Date: 2004-11-10 12:47 pm (UTC)Once I've stopped laughing, of course.
Re: No words, I tell you.
Date: 2004-11-10 04:48 am (UTC)What's Your Ultimate Fandom OTP?
Shiver My Timber--A Pirate RPG
no subject
Date: 2004-11-10 08:46 am (UTC)*raises eyebrow*
*contemplates*
*whimpers*
no subject
Date: 2004-11-10 09:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-10 08:47 pm (UTC)I'll let you write it.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-10 07:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-10 08:20 pm (UTC)What's Your Ultimate Fandom OTP?
Shiver My Timber--A Pirate RPG
I could click on that sucker all day! :) :) :)
Spamming your comments...
Date: 2004-11-11 02:49 am (UTC)