#Fergus meet the cores

[viva-la-runaway]

I think I mentioned my headcanon about Wheatley’s siblings in the RickRatt post. So, I thought I'd share these while I work on my Pride Month drawing.

All the siblings are characters either from the game, or from the series “Meet the cores” on Youtube by Harry101UK. I own none of these characters.

Small TW: Implied child neglect (nothing too detailed.)

I’ll start off by showing y'all my more recent Wheatley design. This is the one I usually stick to these days

Then right here is the older design, and with him is my human design of Space core.

Headcanon time, yippee :D

So, almost all of Wheatley’s siblings come from different moms, but they all have the same dad. Ray, Clark, and Rose have the same mom because they're triplets. Rick and Wheatley have the same mom, but she died while giving birth to Wheatley

Most of the kids don't have much contact with their moms, as they all grew up with their neglectful fathers. Their mothers were never in positions to care for them entirely or were products of one-night stands, so they usually just ended up in the care of the oldest three brothers.

Rusty, Fergus, and Chuck were in charge growing up. They each worked jobs to help feed the younger siblings, while the middle kids did things for their neighbors to earn extra cash.

For such a chaotic and sometimes rather unfortunate life, they all turned out fine and got jobs at Aperture. Wheatley’s good record at work actually helped most of the siblings get jobs there, even if some of their jobs were rather unimportant in some peoples eyes.

Wheatley was actually rather brilliant before he was turned into a core. He was still very talkative while working at Aperture. He also tended to be a bit clumsy and often made mistakes, sometimes forgetting to do his work because he was too busy yapping at his coworkers. Those little flaws are what I imagine led to his selection for the core experiments.

If you guys want more specific headcanons, I have a TON. I guess this could be considered an Au, so I'd love to share more if you guys have any questions about it. :)

[fanmade-cores-competion]

ROUND 1

[lifeandtimesoftrying]

Eddie McKenna and the connection between his kindness and his willingness to be wrong

(hi again! It’s Eddie day for TOTA takeover. There will be some spoilers for the show, hence the cut)

I think that one of the most remarkable things about Eddie is that he’s so *willing* to admit when he’s wrong, and this is directly influenced by his kindness. We see this in the very first episode—his first reaction to meeting Campbell is to assume that he’s one of the staff, because he has preconceived notions about what the patients should be like. But once he knows he’s wrong? He’s fine with it, and throughout the series we see him repeatedly advocate for Campbell.

(spoilers start here!)

Eddie repeatedly insists that he and Campbell are a team, and when Radio Scotland want to take Campbell but not Eddie, Eddie… agrees. And furthermore, he *tells* Campbell to take the job.

You also see this worldview with his treatment of Francine. Within the show, she’s the most unstable character, but Eddie actively tries to learn about all aspects of her, and doesn’t dismiss her out of hand. And with Fergus, Eddie continuously insists that he’s qualified, which provides a stark juxtaposition with employers’ and psychiatrists’ treatment of Fergus. And this isn’t because that Eddie went into the job already being accepting��as noted earlier, he *did* have preconceived stereotypes. But he was willing to actually get to know the patients and adjust his assumptions.

He’s also a generally selfless character. He pays Harriet’s lunch (she was the little old lady), and gives his grandmother 3,000 pounds so she can go to Lithuania, even though he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. He goes against his job as a double-glazing salesman and tells the single mother that her windows are fine, just loose, and if she has putty he can fix them for her.

Furthermore, he’s incredibly honest. This is demonstrated with the window example, but it also heavily influences his relationships with the patients, particularly Campbell. Eddie repeatedly tells Campbell to not get his hopes up, and while this creates conflict between them, Eddie’s stance is sympathetic—he isn’t saying it to discourage Campbell, he’s saying what he has experienced and has full reason to believe is true so that Campbell isn’t misled and later disappointed. Eddie is also unusually self-aware. He readily acknowledges that he hates his day job, and in episode 6 when Campbell confronts him, he doesn’t go back on that, but instead makes it clear that what he wants is financial security and respect “for this first time in [his] life.” There’s also the line where in response to Campbell saying “Eddie, you don’t see that job’s killing you!”* Eddie replies, “No, Campbell, my dreams. My dreams are killing me.” And in some ways it’s *true*. Eddie’s job is soul-sucking because of the kind of person that Eddie *is*, and Eddie realizes this, even if he doesn’t give himself credit for it.

(*note: this line might also be “Eddie, don’t you see that job’s killing you!” I believe it’s the former but there are no subtitles to check against.)

The combination of Eddie’s willingness to be wrong, selflessness, and honesty is also what makes the line “he’s funnier than me” (referring to Campbell) so impactful, because it very clearly showcases all three of those characteristics. That statement encapsulates a core part of Eddie’s character, and we as the audience know that, which is why it hits. It’s not false modesty, or a cop out, or something that’s going to be undermined—it’s part of the reason that we want Eddie’s to succeed, and seeing it used in a place where Eddie is going to be punished for it *hurts*.

Finally, I think that this triad is what makes Eddie’s arc of recognizing his alcoholism compelling. This is really the one thing that he doesn’t honestly acknowledge about himself for most of the show, which indicates that it’s far more difficult for him to be wrong about than anything else that we’ve seen. There’s also a double standard between him and the other characters; he is routinely kind to those around him, but isn’t nearly as kind to himself. He views himself as a failure and lets others take his agency away from him, and the first time we really see this stop (or at least pause) is after he and Francine go to Lithuania night. While this could be interpreted as ~romantic love makes everything fine~, considering the sheer amount of respect the writers have for the characters and that the message is clearly not that, I think that that scene shows that Eddie needed someone to be kind to him and appreciate him in order to realize that he *can* and *should* be treated with kindness and respect, which includes him treating himself that way.

[trasho-pando2011]

Meet the Cores but it's just Fergus

[spiegelgestalt]

Women of Argatha is messy Part 2

But lets get to the stuff which stayed with me and will stay with me and why i'm writing this rant in the first place.

The TL/DR is: WOA is a survivors story and the messy feelings which happen if you survive.

Great female villains rambling under the cut:

Sherezade doesn't want to die. She tells us this the moment we meet her. Once she was a hero. A tyrannical king slept with virgins one night and than killed them the next day. Sherezade stops that. She offers herself and goes to the king. She tells stories over and over again until there is nothing left of her except one single desire: I don't want to die. I know the story of 1001 nights and i never realized the horror at it's core. Hell in the mythos she marries the guy. FGO calls this out for the bullshit it is. I like that.

Sherezade becomes a heroic spirit. And she doesn't see herself as a hero - she sees herself as a whore who did everything to survive and now she has to die over and over again. It is hell for her because she never got out. Then she gets summoned by an evil demon who understands her and offers her a way to die permanently. Sherezade doesn't want to die but if she can't live forever she rather dies once. So she takes it. With his help she creates this world where women abuse men. And the world mirrors what Sherezade survived - there is an evil pirate queen who kills every man she sleeps with, there is an empress who tortures her citicens out of false idealism, there is an amazon queen who rapes the men she wants to have children with. WOA works as Sherezades revenge fantasy. It works as a reflection of what she has endured. But the thing is: this violent fantasy doesn't help her. The demon doesn't offer anything to her - just death. Sherezade stays in a bad place. As a survivor who gets abused by the strong women around her. A survivor who wants to stay alive at all cost. Who grovels and sells out everything that is dear to her just to stave off death. She hates herself for it. Calls herself whore and coward and plans her own suicide.

But FGO disagrees. And it goes to great length to show that Sherezade has more to offer than her body: she is a great tactician, she nows all the stories, she is smart and resilient and knows how to play the room - hell she surprised me when it turned out that she was the bad guy behind all this. And the story ends on a hopeful note - maybe not all guys are like the evil king, maybe there can be savety and even consensual sex (with Fergus UGH but okay), The evil demon is separated from her (and there is neat little metaphor in there how some toxic relationships can keep you in a bad place, even though the people in it love each other)

I like the hope. I like that Sherezade is saved. That way WOA becomes a story about overcoming trauma/depression and survivors guilt and that resonates with me. I'm glad to have read it.

[wheatley-imagine-scenarios]

Hello LGBT Community Part 4

Kinda funny how I thought I was done after part 2 and now I’ve realized how many characters there truly are. Anyway, this part is for Meet The Cores specific characters. This might be put in multiple parts because there’s quite a few of those guys. I’ve been made aware of The Underground fan series as well, but I probably won’t use that, just because the characters have pretty small part and I just don’t really know what I’d say about them. Anyway, here’s some gay headcanons, with the obligatory mention that all Aperture bots/employees are trans.

‘Onathan (Ego Core)

He gives off sophisticated gay vibes

He has never loved a woman in his damn life

Trans man, he/him pronouns

Turret Core

Demigirl

I headcanon the human turret as demigirl and human defective turret as demiboy I just like thinking of them as the yin and yang of each other, just thought this would fit here

Asexual panromantic

Rusty

Gay for reasons I can’t put into words

Trans guy, he/him

Ray

Pansexual

Trans man

I’ve heard people ship him and Space Core, and I haven’t decided my thoughts on that, but I can definitely understand it

I also just want to appreciate his chaotic energy and also pray for his VA’s larynx

Glitchy

Trans dude, he/him

Literally his whole role in the series was him wondering what his purpose was

Getting maybe abrosexual vibes from him?

Rose (Botanical Core)

Definite bisexual

Trans woman, she/her

I’d say lesbian, but I can’t deny the romantic undertones of when she was talking to Fact. (Yes I think Fact is gay, but he’s also an entirely different character in Meet the Cores from what I’ve created. Kinda like how Caroline is in the Portal 2 Musical)

Fergus (Gel Supervisor)

Asexual homoromantic

Trans man, he/him pronouns

Dr. Alma

Lesbian, so very lesbian

Trans woman, she/her

[harrycallaghan]

A reel of bloopers and improv from the latest Meet The Cores 3 recording session with Sean Oxspring and Greg Holgate. ;)

[higheverlost]

@absolutionabsolved​ sent: ❝ you still feel something’s wrong. don’t you? ❞ (from ginny!)

Ginerva’s words sting in a way that makes Ellis feel strangely vulnerable. A strange sort of calm had engulfed him, though it was anything but peaceful. The feeling was cold, like the frost that came before a snowfall. Fostbite had settled in his veins, inching through his body & into the very core of his being. The events that had passed had happened too quickly & too slowly all at once. It seemed like their life in Highever was another lifetime entirely & the days since had trudged on in an uncomfortable funeral dirge. Everything was wrong, as far as Ellis was concerned.

Though he lifts his gaze to meet hid sister’s, there is a tentative spark in his eye. He had made an active effort not to wallow in his misery & yet it still hung over him like a cloud. Their life was gone, their family was gone. The most they could hope for was to find Fergus before some other plot could hatch & leave their brother as a rotting corpse. The thought made his stomach turn. The two of them had been running for what seemed like ages & had survived the joining the night before, their success surrounded by even more death.

" No. “ It’s a blatant lie, icy & short. He can’t help but furrow his brow, exposing a fraction of the ice that threatened to take over his being. Ellis had made the decision to kill Rendon Howe with his own hands, regardless of what that meant for the Blight. No one would stop him, not even Duncan. He supposed he should know better than to lie to his sister. She knew him better than anyone & was likely the only person he had left he could trust. But... she had her own burdens to carry. His next words have a flat sort of optimism to them. It was an ingenuine phrase, an empty attempt at keeping the storm of emotion in his chest from showing,“ We’re alive. That’s all we can ask for, I suppose. “

[popculturebuffet]

The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck: The Last of the Clan McDuck!  Review “It Was Worth THE Dime”

This is one of my faviorite comic book stories of all time. Given i’m a massive comics nerd, for both books and strips, that is the highest praise I can give this wonderful, epic, beautifully drawn and deeply emotoinal story. I first discovered it in the local library that had the second volume, and found the rest online at a now long dead fan site. And while it took me longer than I care to admit to really dig into Duck Comics, and even now i’ve only scratched the surface, I can say without a doubt this story is the reason I’m so deeply attached to Scrooge as a character, and that I was excited as  I was for Ducktales 2017. This comic showed me just what Scrooge McDuck should be at his core as a character, and showed me what a wonderful character that is. So with all that glowing praise as you can guess i’ve been wanting to cover this for years, and even considered though back when I was more primarily a comic book reviewer last year. Any time i’ve reviewed stuff before now, i’ve considered it, and with Scrooge’s Sisters Hortense and Matilda presumably and definitely debuting on Ducktales soon, and it’s about damn time, the timing could not be better or clearer to dig into this utter triumph.  But before we can take a look at the story itself we naturally have to take a look at the man behind it: Writer and Artist Don Rosa. Don Rosa is easily one of the best Duck Comics writer out there, seen by many as only second to his own faviorite duck comics writer and God of Ducks, Carl Barks. For those 1 of you who do not know, Barks was the man who created pretty much everything in the duck universe comics wise and a bit in animation too: He created Daisy, Scrooge, Gladstone, Magica, The Beagle Boys, The Junior Woodchucks, Gyro, Little Bulb, Glomgold, Rockerduck, and the list goes on. While he didn’t make EVERY duck, he made so many that it’d be impossible to imagine either version of Ducktales being possible without him.  So of course Rosa was a fan and while he took up the family buisness, he was also an artist and duck comics fanboy on the side. So when, even if it meant a paycut, the opportunity to actually write and draw them came up, he lept at it and thus became one of their publishers go to guys, even if said publisher published the stories overseas where the Duck Comics are far more popular and still going to this day, and ironically where most duck comics printed nowadays get their stories from. Rosa was known for his meticous historical research and gorgeous art that he took his time drawing to get just perfect and showed on the page. The man has easily some of hte best and most detailed duck art around and I still haven’t found a duck artist that can match him.. and if you have or found one close i’d genuinely love to see that. He is a genuinely talented, spirited guy who was sadly mistreated by disney and that, coupled with tragically failing eyesight, eventually ended his career. He’s still around and I genuinely hope to meet him some day as he still does conventions.  The man is not without fault: I don’t get his hatred of superhero comics, as while I get them overshadowing funnybooks and that around the time of his career they were in decline, but it’s just as unfair to write off Superhero comics as mindless.  garbage as it is for people to write off the Duck Comics as “only for kids” and I genuinely wish he’d see that and see how the medium has evolved so much since then. I also grumble a bit as his refusal to allow anything besides barks into his bubble, and having to be forced to include fethry on the family tree, but that’s more personal preference. I like using as much material as you got. IT’s why i’ve wanted to, and hopefully will eventually get around to, write a sonic fanfic using bits of all the various universes that for legal, ken penders being an absolute waste of a human being, and sega being stupid reasons can’t be used anymore. I like taking everything in a franchise and putting it in a blender and it’s why I love the reboot. But there’s nothing wrong with taking things as is, not stepping on toes canon wise, but still being awesome. We’re just diffrent people and that’s okay.  And a lot of his fanboy showing actually lead to REALLY good things: Goldie O’Gilt was a one off character, and while used ocasoinally overseas, didn’t really pick up as a character again until a combination of Ducktales 87 and Rosa’s work with her, as he always loved the character, and fleshing her out lead to her being used more, and gaining a sizeable fandom. He also gained the Cablleros an even bigger fandom by giving them two stories of their own, and fleshing them out a bit more.  And this very comic is the peak of that, taking EVERY mention of scrooge’s past from various backstories to set up adventures, every tiny scrap, and to his credit going to both Barks Himself and various other Barks Experts Rosa was friends with to check his work, especially difficult given he likey had to find these stories in issue or pullt hem from disney archives, and complied it into one long epic that not only uses all this info effortlessly, but spins a compelling story that gives us a clear vision of what Scrooge should be, how he became the man he is, and how he lost himself only to find himself again with the help of three precocious boys and a cynical 30 something duck. So taint all bad is what i’m saying.  As for how this got started, thankfully rosa himself provided the origin story for this project in the back of the volume of his works that contained the first 7 chapters of life and times, as well as detailed notes for every chapter. At the time Rosa was working for Egmont, the big european publisher who handles Disney’s much larger european comics market, hence why most of his stories appeared years earlier in Europe before debuting here. The american publisher at the time , and an old friend of his, called Rosa with an idea: A 12 issue Maxi-Series focusing on Scrooge’s history, since at the time they were all the rage.. and really even today mini series are still a viable market and many indie titles just have several minis instead of an ongoing. So it wasn’t a bad idea, Rosa just simply offered a tweak: He’d tell his publisher at Egmont about the idea, and let her get a crack team of writers and artists to do this proper, and thus Disney could publish it for free once it was done and for no extra cost. Rosa gave his publisher a fax detaling both the idea and the fact that it needed to be done right, given to the best person possible, and done with the greatest care. She agreed.. and naturally handed it to him, as he admits he hoped. She made the right call, a legend was born and here we are.  One last bit before the read more and before I get to the first story itself at last: Since barks wrote a lot of side stories that fit into the canon, I COULD slot them in between chapters, but have instead chosen to review the original 12 part story as was, and do the various side stories and two epilogues, the utterly fantastic “Dream of a Life Time”, easiliy one of my faviorite comics ever, and the also really great “Letter From Home”, which will likely on some level be the basis for the upcoming at the time of this review “Battle for Castle McDuck!”, after completing the story. In other words i’m probably going to be at this for years. so join me under the read more won’t you as I begin the journey of a thousand miles with a single step as we look at the humble start of a legend. 

We begin, after a fun short teaser with present Day scrooge saying his past is no one’s buisness only to get hit with an oh yeah?,  with a scrap book title for the issue, something I want to bring up since while I got that’s what it was what I never got, and  must’ve glanced over when I first read rosa’s notes when I got this copy, was that it isn’t SCROOGE’S scrap book, but his sister Matilda’s who dutifully and happily catologued her brother’s adventures. It’s a really sweet moment.. and something that will hit VERY hard when we reach Chapter 11. If you haven’t read this story or heard of it.. .that’s this story’s equilvent of “Last Crash of the Sunchaser” and clearly Frank and Matt drew from that story a bit for it, but we can get more into the parallels when we get there. A smaller but fun note is that Rosa had specific coin drawing templates, for different indentions and what not he used, and used them for the coins in these intro bits. Yes he admitted he has a problem and yes that’s damn impressive anyway. 

It’s Scrooge’s 10th birthday, and his father Fergus has taken him up to see the family land, Dismal Downs to tell him of the mighty Clan McDuck and show him the ancestral lands, graveyards and Castle. He admits to having taken this long because the Clan McDuck currently lives in Glasgow so it’s kind of a long trip just to show your son “Hey look at the decay and rot that’s our ancestral homeland”. The Clan is on hard times, as a bad shipping deal, the backbone of a rather good barks story and I wont’ be interjecting for every barks reference as it’d get rather tiring though for what it’s worth Rosa provided tons of detailed footnotes in the back of each Fantagraphics collection, so good on him. Speaking of which though they do include 10 pages of Mc Duck family history that was supposed to open this story.. until Rosa’s editor wisely pointed out the story isn’t about them but scrooge and having read his roug draft, yeah.. there’s a good gag here and there, as well as “Dirty” Dingus McDuck, scrooge’s Grandpa and the reason Dewey is cursed with that middle name. Why anyone thought Dingus was a good name is beyond me, nor why Donald thought that was a good middle name back in 2009 is again, beyond me. Good on Don though for getting that past the censors.  But yeah with no money they can’t buy the land back and they were scared off it years ago by a mystical ghost dog, the hound of the whiskervilles. There is treasure in the castle, Sir Quackly’s gold, but he accidently sealed himself into a wall while sealing his treasure in there. Their interrupted by the town assholes, the Whiskervilles who have been grazing sheep on the land and are naturally behind the hound, using the sound of it to scare off Fergus once they realize he’s a McDuck. Because apparently you can keep a Scooby Doo style hoax up for Centuries if you don’t have meddling kids around. Who knew.  Back in Glasgow, we meet the rest of Scrooge’s family: His Uncle Jake, his sisters Matilda and Hortense, and his mother Downy. Jake hasn’t really been mentioned at all in Ducktales and I know next to nothing about him, which given I share a name with the guy you’d THINK I would. I mean I know a decent amount about this Jake. 

But nothing about who the hell Jake McDuck is or why he lives with his brother and his family. Here, you guys watch the dancing Jake, i’m going to probably do that for hours after this review is done, i’m going to go sort this out.  Okay one google and finding the Scrooge Mcduck wiki page on him, Jake shows up here likely because he was referenced in the story “A Christmas For Shacktown” and apparently borrowed from Scrooge and never paid it back. Otherwise.. there’s not a lot about him and unlike the rest of Scrooge’s family he really dosen’t do much that I can remember. Except like 2017 Scrooge, he apparently has become extremely long lived, as Scrooge and Donald STILL think he’s alive in the 1950′s.. and likely is STILL alive in some form in the Don Rosa stories, given his take place after Barks and thus in the 40′s and 50′s where Barks stories were set. Hence why unlike the Reboot, Scrooge isn’t inexpecilbly over 210. But Jake McDuck sure as heck is. Maybe this highlander is a highlander.. you know the movie and tv show type. Maybe someone cut off his head. That’s what i’m going with.

This does bring me to another point about this story: While Barks gave all of scrooge’s family their names, it’s where Rosa got them after all, it’s Rosa who really made them into characters. Fergus as a loving father ashamed his family legacy has fallen and wanting his son to do better than him, Downy as an equally loving wife and mother, Matilda as his sweet and caring sister and later her brother’s moral center, and Hortense.. well here she’s just a babbling baby but her character will become clear and glorious as we go. She is adorable here though and we do get some great bits with her.  Getting back to the plot now i’ve made my points, Jake is riled up wanting to understandably kick the Whiskerville’s asses with Scrooge, who even as a sweet innocent ten year old still has the family temper already, agreeing.. but Downy gently shoots them out pointing that two middle aged-ish men and a 10-year old just aren’t enough to fight an army of them and while she doesn’t mention it the fight would just tire them out for work and accomplish nothing as while it is the McDuck’s land the combination of the hound and the lack of money to move back means it’s pointless. She also mentions their younger brother Pothole, who went to America. This will be important later. 

Scrooge storms off and Fergus laments, in a scene that’s more painful the more I think about it, how his clan has fallen, with he and his brother lamenting their chances at glory are long gone.. but Fergus has hope his son can do better, and for his son’s birthday makes him a shoeshine kit in the hopes of inspiring him to greatness. This scene still resonates since many of us are poor, struggling and not doing so good money wise. I’m sure many parents have doubts and regrets about not being able to do more for their kid.

 Not only that but the story carefully avoids the trap of Fergus accidently being abusive by you know, pinning his family’s future on one 10 year old. While yes he is asking a lot of Scrooge, to restore their family name.. it’s very clear he mostly just wants his son to do better than him. Even if Scrooge was just slightly more successful, Fergus would likely be happy with that. He’s not using the legacy as a “This what you must be” like say the Gems in steven universe did for Steven with Rose’s Legacy, the kind where it sort of suffocates you till youc an make it your own. He’s just saying “this is what you can be” He believes his child can be great and simply once him to reach his full potetial and is simply giving him a means to hopefully do so, a simple home made shoe shine kit. While Jake scoffs, the narration notes the idea isn’t worth a dime.. it’s worth THE dime. The dime that would set Scrooge’s destiny in motion. 

The next morning, Fergus goes to check up on his son and his new buisness but Scroogey’s having no luck and about ready to just quit, the poor child. Also Matilda is dragging her baby sister around like a doll and it’s entirely precious as it is funny. 

But as for those Dorty Boots, Matilda wonders why her dad dosen’t just tell Scrooge that Burt the Ditch Digger is coming. Fergus tells her to quite and then explains his plan: he’s sending Burt to scrooge, with an American dime Fergus and Matilda found, to teach his son a lesson: By giving him a hard days work, he’ll teach him what hard work truly means.. and by having Burt “cheat” him with the American dime, it’ll give him the motivation to keep going and to nto be as wide eyed and trusting. It’s a well meaning if harsh lesson, and the kind you’d expect from 1900′s parenting and fits the origin well: Scrooge still earned his first money square, as he still did work.. but his getting cheated being a lesson dosen’t diminish what it taught scrooge, and helps flesh out what I talked about above, Fergus knowing his son has great potential he just needs inspiration to reach it. And instead of just telling him that he does a con job but it’s the 1900′s. This orign, and Fergus’ part in it would be entirely untouched in Ducktales 2017, the first scrooge based adaptation since this comic came out, and I bless them for it. Frank even said this comic was used as a bible by the writers and while theirs clear deviations, and we’ll get to that, they were mainly done for good reason, and it’s very clear that while scrooge’s history is very VERY diffrent in the reboot, the core of his past is still there. 

So the plan is on and young scrooge spends half an hour killing himself to get Burt’s shoes clean before getting his dime.. and realizing he’s been had, makes this proud decleration that will be the bedrock of his entire life and character. 

Scrooge being naturally stubborn as you can see takes his cheats a leson: There will always be hard honest work, and he will be there to do it and he’ll be tougher and sharper than anyone trying to cheat him out of his pay. Fergus’ plan has the intended effect, and Scrooge having learned a hard lesson now has the drive and determination we know him for. As for why it gives it to him.. I had to think on it a bit but it makes sense: For some a setback like this would make them quit.. for Scrooge it’s just proof he CAN find customers, he CAN do this job, or any at his hardest and instead takes this as a lesson to be prepared ot out think and outfight anyone who dares cheat him again, and to not earn his money by being the kind of guy who cheats a kid out of an honest days pay, but as a good honest duck like his father and his father before him. =He will make his money square so he can be the kind of person this seeming stranger SHOULD have been. Granted we’ll see Scrooge doesn’t end up as the best person at times but .. we’ll get there.  So with the fire inside turned from a spark into the flame Scrooge soon got to work, and by the next panel we see he’s eventually worked his stand up from a small box given to him by his dad, to a three seater shoeshining bench, who he wipes all at once by stretching one of his mother’s girldes over a light pole, a detail I didn’t get the first time around but now love. Naturally being a good kind boy much like his Nephews, Scrooge always gave his proud father a portion of his earnings, if with a full receipt for tax purposes. Because he’s still scrooge after all. His dad wonders he did too good a job while Hortense glxbit’s in agreement. 

As the years go on, a now tween Scrooge is eventually able to save up for a horse cart, and starts selling Fire Wood up in the city. He eventually realizes Peat, an earthy subtance found in bogs I only know about because I had to look it up for this review, is more profitable and with some snappy marketing moves into selling Peat for the rich instead, also showing the young lad already has a grasp of how to sell to obnoxious rich people. 

But while his business is booming, our young hero can’t resist visiting his family’s ancestral home and longing for it, hoping one day to have it for himself and in a nice show of how despite his temper and tenacity forged over the last few years he’s still at hear the kind, sweet optimistic lad he was just a few pages ago, he decides to tidy up the Clan’s Cemetary while he’s here. 

Unfortunately as proof that Donald and Della’s terrible luck comes from both sides of the family the Whiskervilles are sub-glomgold levels of human beings.. or Dogfaces in this case, and are digging up the McDuck Clan’s graves to hunt for treasure. Scrooge tries to simply do the smart thing and flee, but the asshole brigade catch sight of him and mistkaing him for a peat burgalar chase after him.. and spend WAY too much time and energy chasing a teenage boy over some fucking bog grass you clearly aren’t selling yourselves. I mean spare a thought for how dumb this is: They could easily sell of of that peat to put up a fence or chop down some trees to get the material if their really that concerned about someone getting in the bog. Then again this isn the 1800 and 1900′s where the child death toll was simply “Yes”, so they likely thought whose gonna notice one more dead child on our property?

Scrooge heads toward the castle and is gestured in by a friendly mystery duck who gladly shows him around and can tell he’s a McDuck just by look, showing the castle is still in glorious condition as the whiskervilles are too spooked to go in, hence why they didn’t chase Scrooge inside. I’d say being afraid of ghosts but not murdering a child is weird but these are the same guys who thought murdering a child was plan A. We’re not dealing with a brain trust is what i’m saying.  So the mystery duck shows Scroogey around, showing off some colorful stories about his ancestors recycled from that scrapped prologue I mentioned. THe mystery man, who brushes off Scrooge thinking he’s a McDuck asks Scrooge what he’s doing to restore the family glory and while Scrooge points out he’s already working on it, Mystery Duck points out he’s still missing something: He has the drive and the dream, but peat and shoeshining, while getting him good money for his family, aren’t the thing you can build a fortune or a future off of. He then points out where Scrooge’s dime comes from: America.. and that gives the boy the idea to head to the states. As for what he could possibly DO there to start, the mystery guy mentions his uncle pothole. So Scrooge has the dream, the drive.. and now a plan: Go to america, work for his uncle on the riverboats, and work his way up from there till he finds his fortune and restores his family name.  But while his future is settled, the present is still an issue and Scrooge wants to teach the child murder club a lesson and thus borrows, though MM wisely points out it’s all his property a horse and some armor, and stuffs the armor with peat. As for what his plan is.. welllll

That.. is fucking awesome. And far from the last fucking awesome moment in this thing. It also shows off even as not quite a teen yet, Scrooge is still a badass already, and while he doesn’t have his trademark strength or fighting skills quite yet, his ingenuity is already there.. and that will always trump both. The Whiskervilles run away and into some quicksand and Scrooge vows to return one day as laird and reclaim his family land. But that’s a story for a few chapters down the line. As for who the mystery duck is, he’s naturally Sir Quackely himself, or rather his ghost, who was simply guiding Scrooge and didn’t give him the treasure as simply handing him the money wouldnn’t restore their family’s good name or continue their bloodline now would it? 

For now Scrooge returns to work for a bit before finding his way to America: A cattleboat to New Orleans looking for a Cabin Boy. And so Scrooge bids farewell to his family. His Dad, feeling bad he can’t even give his boy shilling, gives him the family pocketwatch with jake pitching in with the family gold dentures. While Scrooge naturally refuses to sell the watch, he does plan to sell the teeth as soon as possible for good reason. We then get some sweet goodbyes with him, his sisters (With hortense uttering her first words to everyone’s astonishment) and loving mother as he wonders just what awaits him in America. 

And there he stands on the bow of a ship, heading for a new land, in New Orleans he can be a new man. And we’ll see just what kind of man he becomes as this series continues. For now this is the end of a chapter but the beginning of a lifetime. 

Final Thoughts on Last of the Clan McDuck:

This story is excellent. While there are even better chapters to come, this one is still one of the most memorable and most joyous, showing just how Scrooge became what he is, where some of his values come from, others will be instilled along the way , and beginning to flesh out his family. We see Scrooge’s love of wealth comes from starting from the bottom, growing up with a family that barely had anything and badly needed everything, but was loving and instilled fine morals in him. We also see a Scrooge far removed from the bitter old man he is in present day, an optimistic naïve young lad who only wants best for his family. It’s a nice stark contrast to who he’ll become, good and bad, and a nice way to both compare him to Huey Dewey and Louie and break your heart as his own hardens before briefly turning black later on.  The art, as is standard for this series and Rosa, is breathtaking, and the story isn’t lacking in good jokes, their just downplayed so the story itself can take center stage. There’s nothing really more to say: it’s an excellent start to an even more excellent tale and stands proud among an already stellar story as one of it’s finest outings. 

NEXT RAINBOW: Scrooge goes down to the mighty Missipi to work on the riverboats and meets one of his signature Rogue’s for the first time in their first form, as well as Gyro’s dad.. or grandpa.. or possibly both I don’t know his family tree. Point is, tune in next time for some riverboat hyjinks.  Until then if you’d like to comission an episode of any animated show, especially ducktales and the various other duck related disney shows, or another Duck Comics story you really like from Rosa, Barks or whoever you want really, I take commissions for 5 dollars a review, with 5 dollars off your full order when you put in for more than one episode or issue. You can also follow me on patreon.com/popculturebuffet and for just two bucks a month get access to polls (which i’ll start once we have at least three patreons), and my exclusive discord server. And if you liked this review be sure to reblog it to show off. My self promotion done until next time: There’s always another rainbow. 

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Place to Belong Chapter 29: Caitlin

Content warning: this chapter contains detailed descriptions of infant death.

Chapter 28

Read on AO3

December 3, 1749

Considering this was Jenny’s fifth pregnancy, the labor took considerably longer than Claire thought it would. Michael and Janet had taken a bit longer than expected, but they were twins, so that was understandable. Claire had been certain that any more children after those two would have been out in under an hour. 

So when the labor lasted well into the next day, Jenny was biting her tongue from slurring through every curse in the English and Gaelic languages.

“Ye swore, Claire, ye swore to me this one would be quick!”

“I know, Jenny, I’m sorry…sometimes it’s unpredictable even when someone has had as many as you have.” Claire dabbed at her forehead again.

“Ye’re sure the bairn is in the right position? That’s no’ the problem?”

“The baby isna breech, Mistress Murray,” the midwife assured. “Everything is perfectly normal. No blood, either. He’s just taking his time, is all.”

Jenny collapsed onto the pillows with a frustrated grunt. “If I knew it wasna going to get any easier I’d never have let Ian touch me again!”

“Now, now,” Claire chuckled. “You don’t mean that.”

“I think I know what I mean, Claire,” Jenny snapped.

Claire bit her tongue to keep from laughing again. “I’m sorry, you’re right. You’re the one in labor, not me.”

“That’s fer damned sure!” Jenny’s angry shouting dissolved into an anguished cry, and she blindly reached for Claire’s hand. “It’s coming! Now!”

They quickly moved her to the hay in front of the fireplace and positioned her properly.

All the rest happened much too quickly.

“He’s almost here, Mistress! Keep going!”

“Fine, Mistress Murray. One more push should do it!”

“Oh, thank Christ…”

Sure enough, a few minutes, much screaming, and one big push later, the baby was out.

“It’s a bonny wee lassie!” the midwife said.

“There, it’s over,” Claire said, wiping down her face again.

But something was not right.

The midwife cut the cord and whisked her away to be cleaned as Claire helped Jenny deliver the afterbirth. But aside from Jenny’s panting, there was not a sound to be heard. Claire went to the nightstand to get Jenny a glass of water, but by the time she returned, Jenny was already sitting straight up.

“She’s no’ crying…” Jenny pushed the glass away. “Why is she no’ crying?”

Claire rushed to the midwife’s side to check her breathing and pulse as she was wiped down. At first, Claire wasn't at all certain that she was alive; she had to feel around multiple different places to find her pulse. And she was so, impossibly small for a baby only a few weeks early. Claire’s heart sank when she finally found a pulse.

“Claire? What’s wrong?”

Her pulse was far slower than it should have been. And then she heard it: the slow, raspy breathing. The midwife paused her ministrations, seemingly realizing at the same time Claire did. She gave Claire a sad, knowing look.

This baby was not going to live very long.

“She’s breathing, Jenny…” Claire said, biting her lip. “But she…she’s weak.”

“She needs milk,” Jenny said curtly. “Give her to me.”

As the midwife finished up with the baby and swaddled her, Claire helped Jenny off the floor and back into the bed. By the time the midwife brought over the little bundle, Jenny had already untied her shift and freed one of her breasts. Jenny sighed with relief as the baby nestled in her arms, and the midwife shuffled about the room, cleaning up.

“Hello, wean,” Jenny whispered. “Come on, now, ye’ll be stronger when ye eat.”

Jenny held the baby to her breast, but she didn’t move. Claire watched helplessly, her vision blurring with tears.

“It’s alright, mo chridhe,” Jenny crooned, stroking her cheek with one finger. She began coaxing her in Gaelic, holding onto her breast, pushing the nipple right up against the baby’s lips, but she would not latch on.

After several seconds, Jenny’s calm melted away, and her head whipped up to look at Claire. “She willna eat. Why will she no’ eat?”

Claire wet her lips and swallowed thickly, wracking her brain for the right thing to say…

“Do something!” Jenny shouted, causing Claire to jump and a single tear to roll down her cheek.

“Take her! Help her!” Jenny held the little baby up, reaching for Claire.

Claire stepped slowly forward. She placed a hand on the baby’s chest, gently pushing her back down into Jenny’s cradling arms. “I…can’t, Jenny.”

Jenny’s frantic expression melted into horror, and she jerkily shook her head. “Ye…ye have to help her, Claire…ye have to…”

Claire put a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “There’s nothing I can do. She’s just…too weak.”

Jenny looked down at the baby, and Claire watched as tears dropped from Jenny’s eyes and onto the little bundle.

“I’ll get Ian.”

“No.” Her head snapped up again. “I dinna want him to see her like this…it’ll break his heart…”

“He deserves to meet his daughter, Jenny,” Claire said gently. “And you need each other right now.”

Jenny’s mouth opened and closed as if to say something else, but instead her eyes fell back on the baby. She nodded wordlessly.

Claire breathed deeply, steeling herself before opening the door. After she shut it behind her, everything seemed to catch up with her, and she had to bite her lip to stifle the audible sob that bubbled up from her chest. She covered her mouth, and tears fell freely over the back of her hand. After a few seconds, she took another breath, wiped her eyes, and put on as neutral an expression as she could muster. As if in a daze, she made her way down the stairs and out the back door, praying not to run into any of the children.

She found Ian near the stables, pitching hay. He noticed her immediately, and his face lit up.

“Has the bairn arrived?” he called, setting the pitchfork against the wagon and walking to meet her where she stood.

“Yes,” Claire said flatly. “It’s a girl.”

“Another wee lass,” he said with a hearty laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. He finally got close enough to see the expression on Claire’s face, and his smile disappeared. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s…she’s very weak.”

“What do ye mean?”

“She won’t live very long,” Claire said, taking all of the strength within her to not completely shatter. “I’m…I’m so sorry, Ian.”

Panic suddenly etched itself into every one of his features. “Jenny?”

“She’s alright,” Claire said quickly. “She just…needs her husband now.”

His eyes averted her gaze, and he nodded. “I’ll, uh…go to her, then.”

Claire nodded silently, staring at the dirt between her feet as Ian disappeared into the house.

“Maman?”

Fergus suddenly appeared from within the stable, pitchfork in hand. Claire slowly picked up her head to look at him. Fergus immediately set down the pitchfork and rushed to her side.

“The baby?” he asked gently, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Auntie Jenny?”

“Jenny is fine,” Claire assured him. She wet her lips again. “The baby is…she’s not going to make it.”

Without another word, Fergus pulled her into a strong embrace, and it was enough to make her fall apart. She could not allow herself to really cry in front of Jenny or Ian; it was their loss, not hers. She had to be strong for them. But to deliver four of their six children and lose one, to know so intimately the cacophony of little voices crying Auntie! and to know that there was one voice she’d never hear…it broke her heart.

And that pain…that pain that Jenny was feeling was all too familiar to her. It was a pain she would not wish on her worst enemy. To know that Jenny, her sister, her dearest friend, her very own pillar of strength had to endure the worst pain Claire had ever known shook her to her core.

She wept into Fergus’s shoulder, clinging to him for dear life. Somewhere through her veil of grief, she realized she couldn’t tuck his head under her chin anymore, that her face was buried into his shoulder instead of the other way around. When on earth had he gotten so tall…?

She lost track of how much time had passed; she didn’t realize when they’d started rocking back and forth. Claire finally came to her senses, swallowing the remainder of her tears. She pulled away from him so that she could look into his eyes, and she ran a hand through his curls.

“You are thinking of her, no?” Fergus said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of Faith?”

Claire nodded, biting her lip as more tears threatened to resurface. “It’s a pain that…that never leaves you. Never.”

“Auntie Jenny is strong,” Fergus assured her.

“I know she is.” Claire nodded.

“It will be alright, Maman. We will grieve, but we will heal. Yes?”

Claire nodded, her vision blurring again. “I know, darling.” She caressed his face, painfully aware of the lack of boyishness in his features. “I love you, mon fils.”

“I love you, too.”

He hugged her again, briefly, and Claire’s heart suddenly leapt into her throat.

“Where is Brianna?”

“She is around front with the dogs. Mrs. Crook has been minding her and Kitty.”

Claire nodded. “I need to see her, to…to hold her right now.”

“I understand.”

Claire made her way around the house to the front yard, and she had to stop for a moment to collect herself when she caught sight of them. Brianna and Kitty were bundled head to toe to protect them from the December chill. They were positively squealing their heads off chasing after Jehu, the newest addition to the Murray clan of dogs. The first rat terrier, Luke, had passed away a few months ago, and the children were having a ball with Jehu’s never-ending puppy energy. Mrs. Crook was hanging laundry, and Maggie was sitting on the porch with Bran. Even in his youth, Bran had never been much for rambunctious play, but especially now, he was more than content to sit idle as Maggie pet him in long, gentle strokes.

The sound of her daughter’s laughter, accompanied by the laughter of her very best friend, her cousin, Claire’s little niece, was overwhelming. Claire steeled herself before walking closer, and Jehu immediately took note, sprinting toward her. The girls squealed again and darted after him. Claire smiled despite herself, stooping to pick up the little mongrel yapping at her feet.

“Ye caught him, Auntie!” Kitty giggled.

Claire handed him to her, and she shrieked in amusement as he lapped at her entire face.

“Take him to Maggie, would you Kitty?”

She nodded and began bounding back toward the porch, and Brianna started to follow.

“Brianna,” Claire called. “Stay here, please.”

Brianna whirled around. “In trouble, Mummy?”

“No, darling,” Claire assured her. She knelt in the grass and opened her arms. “Come here.”

Brianna obeyed, approaching her mother and allowing her to take her in her arms. Claire let out the breath she’d been holding, sighing shakily in relief. She held her daughter tightly, cradling her head into her chest, kissing the top of her head, breathing her in.

“Mummy sad?”

“Mummy just needed to hold you, sweetheart.” Claire stroked her hair. “Do you know that I love you? So very much?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“I do. I love you so much, Brianna.” She cursed herself when her voice broke, and she held her tighter.

“Love you too, Mummy.”

Claire felt pangs of guilt radiate through her chest, knowing full well that as she sat here, cradling her living, breathing daughter, Jenny and Ian were clinging to a baby girl that was withering away in their arms. She was reminded of the horrible jealousy she’d felt when she and Jamie had arrived at Lallybroch right after losing Faith to see baby Katherine, healthy and beautiful. She was reminded of the intense pain of watching Jamie cradle that little baby, her throat burning, her mind screaming that it should have been their baby.

How wicked of her was it to be jealous back then? She had never said it out loud, not even to Jamie, but she’d been downright resentful of Jenny back then. She’d been able to bring three healthy, beautiful children into the world. Claire had tried for years, and when the Lord had finally seen fit to bless her with a child, her body had killed her. True, Maggie’s birth had been dangerous, but she still lived and breathed. No one could save Faith.

Even through that jealousy, that misplaced resentment, Claire would never wish any harm on those beautiful children, or any Murray children that came thereafter. Knowing that their newest daughter lay dying in her mother’s arms was enough to rip Claire’s heart out of her chest. Death and tragedy do not know faces or names; no one is spared, no one is safe. For Claire to have assumed all those years ago that her womb was cursed and Jenny’s was blessed had been grossly unfair. Those feelings had gradually faded away as her grief and anger gradually lessened, and she’d honestly forgotten about them. Until now. And now the guilt of ever allowing herself to think that way was making her stomach turn.

“Mistress.”

Claire almost jumped out of her skin. She looked up to see Mrs. Donnelly standing before them.

“I’ve been sent to fetch ye by Master Murray.”

Claire quickly wiped her eyes before releasing Brianna. “Go back to Kitty, love. And mind Mrs. Crook.”

Brianna nodded, and Claire stood up, watching as Brianna bounded back toward the front of the house.

“The Priest is here to Baptize the bairn before the Lord takes her,” Mrs. Donnelly said. “They want ye there.”

Claire nodded wordlessly and made her way toward the house, hearing and yet not being able to process Kitty and Maggie calling out to her as she stepped over Bran on the porch. She ascended the steps again, her feet feeling heavy as lead. She made her way to the Laird’s room and gently knocked on the door. It was Ian who answered, and Claire almost broke down and cried again at the sight of the heartbreak on his face.

“Come in, Claire.”

Claire entered the room, and Ian shut the door behind her. She locked eyes with Jenny, and she had to bite her tongue.

Strong, Beauchamp.

Father Gregor was standing over Jenny, his hand hovering over the baby in her arms, chanting in Latin, his eyes closed. He finished that particular prayer and opened his eyes upon hearing Claire’s entrance.

“The Godmother?” he asked gently.

Claire’s throat constricted.

“Aye,” Jenny answered for her. “Claire is Caitlin’s Godmother.”

Claire swallowed thickly, then put on a tiny smile. “Caitlin?”

“Aye. Caitlin Maisri Murray.” Jenny was staring at her adoringly, bouncing her gently.

“Beautiful,” Claire said reverently.

Father Gregor nodded. “Shall we begin?”

Ian sat in the bed beside Jenny, a strong, solid arm around her shoulders. Jenny gestured for Claire to sit in the chair beside the bed, right next to Jenny and baby Caitlin. Father Gregor spoke in gentle Latin, and Jenny and Ian responded in Latin when necessary. Claire was, admittedly, lost, but she understood enough to know what was happening at least, and whenever a particular chant was repetitive enough, she joined in after a few times.

At a particular point, Jenny gently nudged Claire, and she snapped to attention to see that Jenny was holding Caitlin out to her. Numbly, Claire reached out for her, cradling her close when she was placed in her arms. Claire stood, facing Father Gregor.

“Vis baptizari?”

Claire stared dumbly at the priest.

“Volo,” he whispered kindly.

“Volo,” Claire repeated, nodding. “Volo.”

Father Gregor nodded, and gestured for her to hold Caitlin over the bowl.

“Caitlin Maisri Murray.” He poured water over her head once.

“Ego te baptizo in nomine Patris.” Twice.

“Et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.” Three times.

“Deus omnipotens, Pater Domini nostri Iesu Christi, qui te regeneravit ex aqua et Spiritu Sancto, quique dedit tibi remissionem omnium peccatorum, ipse te liniat Chrismate Salutis in eodem Christo Iesu Domino nostro in vitam aeternam.”

“Amen,” Jenny and Ian said behind her.

“Amen,” Claire repeated.

“Pax tibi,” Father Gregor said.

“Et cum spiritu tuo,” all three of them recited together this time. Despite Claire’s lack of practice of Catholicism, years of Church in her youth could not erase the reflexiveness of the standard call and response.

“Vade in pace et Dominus sit tecum. Amen.”

“Amen.”

Claire instinctively crossed herself, and she saw Jenny and Ian do the same from the corner of her eye.

“She will be in Christ’s embrace now,” Father Gregor said softly.

Claire pressed a brief kiss to Caitlin’s little forehead, unable to ignore the sound of her strangled, labored breathing. She placed her back in Jenny’s arms and sat back down in the chair beside her.

“Thank you,” she said to both Jenny and Ian. “I’m honored.”

“We thank ye as well,” Ian said.

Jenny was lost in adoring her baby for a moment, and Claire was lost in watching her.

“Will ye stay wi’ us, sister?” Jenny’s voice was thin and frail in a way that Claire had never heard before. “Until the Lord takes her?”

A tear slipped out of Claire’s eye and she nodded fervently, putting a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Of course.”

It was impossible to say how long they sat there, Jenny crooning to her daughter in Gaelic with Ian occasionally chiming in, Father Gregor chanting in Latin. It could have been hours and hours, days and days…but it was still not long enough.

Jenny pressed her face closer and closer to Caitlin’s as her breathing grew quieter and quieter, desperate to still be able to hear her very last breath. She rocked her gently, back and forth, pressing her closer and closer until Jenny was practically doubled over, their foreheads touching. Claire kept her hand on Jenny’s back, rubbing soothing circles. Ian brushed her hair back, kissed her temple, rocked with her, unable to let her go.

Claire would never forget the sound of the horrible silence that began the very second a little baby was no longer struggling to breathe.

Jenny did not stop rocking, but the sound of her sobbing was unmistakable.

“Requiem aeternam dona eis, domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescat in pace. Amen.”

“Amen,” Ian choked out.

Claire could not speak.

Father Gregor approached the bed and placed his hand atop Jenny’s head as she shook with the force of her tears.

“May God grant you comfort in this sorrowful time. Take comfort that your daughter is at peace, and the little time she had in this world was full of love beyond measure.”

Ian nodded. “Thank you, Father.”

“I’ll return tomorrow for a burial?”

“Aye. Thank ye.”

Claire covered her mouth with both of her hands, and Ian gathered Jenny in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. Silent tears trickled down Ian’s cheeks and disappeared into Jenny’s hair.

Claire stood as Father Gregor gathered his things, and she followed him out of the room; if she’d stayed she would have felt like she was intruding on something very private.

She closed the door behind them, and as she turned to keep walking, she was surprised to find that Father Gregor had stopped. She looked tearily up at him.

“Have courage, my child.” He touched her head as he had Jenny’s. “He is with you, all of you. Have faith.”

Claire felt her throat close up.

Have Faith.

Father Gregor smiled kindly once more before disappearing down the hall and down the steps.

Her back against the wall, Claire sank slowly to the floor, landing with a soft thud. She curled into herself, arms resting on her knees, face buried in her arms, and she wept.

Have Faith.

That word, that name hadn’t destroyed her so thoroughly in a very long time.

[lostinfantasies38]

Summary:            

Alistair watches his fellow Warden across the campfire, wishing it were possible for Zane to share his feelings. The ones that aren't forged between brothers-at-arms. Needing to regain his composure, Alistair leaves camp and goes for a walk in the woods. Clarity is found in the dark.

A sheet of night, glimmering star-like in the flickering glow of the fire. He’d never paid attention before to how long it was, but when pulled from the bun at the nape of his neck, his hair cascaded to the top of his shoulders in silky tendrils.

Like ink running across a sheet of vellum, Alistair mused idly.

It suited him. The Warden’s olive complexion and angular features were more prominent against the dark backdrop. Of course, the shadows cast by the flames only enhanced his chiseled jawline and noble nose.

He shared a laugh with Leliana, the rich tone booming around the clearing, and Alistair’s stomach somersaulted. From his vantage point he couldn’t see the man’s eyes, but he didn’t need to. Hazel green with flecks of gold, at once intense yet sincere. They had immediately captivated him upon meeting him and over the last few weeks that feeling in his gut loomed large in the other man’s presence.

The son of a Teryn, Zane Cousland had a noble lineage rivaling his own. Not that it did him much good, at the moment, with his brother missing and his ancestral lands usurped. As a Warden, Zane was incapable of holding a title, which meant the teyrnir was in danger of passing to another line.

Yet, as much as Zane worried for his brother, Fergus, he didn’t seem concerned about the rest. Which was part of his appeal. A man from one of the most powerful families in Ferelden who wasn’t power mad? It seemed so novel. But there he was.

Zane glanced across the fire at him, and Alistair shot him a weak smile before lowering his gaze. It wouldn’t be possible for the other man to feel the same. They shared a rapport, certainly. Borne of war and desperation after Ostagar rattled them both to the core.

Flashes of the battle played through his mind. Zane’s daggers whistling through the air, onyx droplets spinning in the torchlight, following the momentum of his blades. The man’s wicked taunts shouted across a chamber to distract their mindless foes from swarming Alistair.

They’d fought in the Wilds before the fateful battle and in countless skirmishes since, but in the warrior’s mind the memories of that night were coated in a patina of nostalgia. It was the night they fought as a team, boosting strengths and bolstering weaknesses, taking hits meant for each other as they clawed their way through the tower overrun with darkspawn.

Read the rest on AO3 

@bigfan-fanfic @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold @kittimau @schoute @scharoux @dalish-rogue @sharkapologists @river-of-asgard @charlatron @fandomn00blr

[fanmade-cores-competion]

Presenting!!! The Fanmade Cores competition!!!

Jumping on the bandwagon to these things!!! This competition is gonna be for the fan-made cores in some portal series and games! Obviously I probably didn't get everyone, but The Underground is already sort of obscure enough I didn't want to use more unknown ones that were definitely going to loose anyways because only 5 other people knew about them!

All of the cores I'll be using are from Meet the Cores 1-3, Portal: The Underground, Portal Stories: Mel, and Aperture Tag! And these are ONLY the Cores, so no turrets, P-body/Atlas variations and others won't be included here!

With that out of the way! Here are the matchups (no links right now since I'm still setting up the polls!)

ROUND 1:

Avery vs Enrichment Core

Ray vs Gaming Core

Chuck/Security Core vs General Core

Fergus/Gel Supervisor vs Rusty Core

Narrator Core vs Dr. Alma

Omni Core vs Oxygen Core

ST4NL3 Core vs Humour Core

Glitchy vs Music Core

Loose Screws Louis/Jazz Core vs Ohnothan/Ego Core

Rose vs Turret Core

Legal Core vs Quest Core

Virgil vs Heavy Metal Core

Rainbow Core vs Nigel

Paranoia Core vs Storyteller Core

Friendship Cores vs Optimism Core

Ambition Core vs Interview Core

Protocol Core vs Elite Core

Once I get the polls set up these will all have links! For now please rb to spread this to other Core fans :]

[splendidcas]

Please tell us about meeting Misha 😊💙 Have you also met Jared and Jensen? And if so, how was meeting them?

BUCKLE UP FRIENDS. IT’S TIME TO TALK ABOUT MEETING J2M (bc when I start I can’t stop).

I’ve been very fortunate to meet Misha many times, Jared about 3 times and Jensen twice. I’ve also been lucky enough to get photo ops/autos with Richard and Rob, David Haydn Jones, Adam Fergus (kind of...we ran into each other going to/from the bathroom lmao), Tahmoh, Rachel Miner, Felicia Day, and Kim rhodes. every single one of them was SO sweet. 

Out of J2M, I would say that Jared was the easiest to talk to; when it’s your turn, he gives you 100% of his attention, his eyes/focus totally on you, waiting to hear what you have to say. It was very calming honestly. Jensen is so easy going and laid back, and it was intimidating haha. he was so nice though. he thanked me and called me sweetheart, and Jared said I was a doll *sobs*. when I did my j2m photo op, jared was the only one I could manage to look at lmao. I stuttered so bad with all three of them looking down at me. I said, “c-could I have a, uh, a hug?” Jared grabbed my waist, spun me around, and all 3 of them were just on me lmao it was INCREDIBLE.

and since I’ve met misha multiple times I’ll share the most memorable experiences I’ve had with him, bc I can’t pick just one lmao. 

*one thing I’ll say about every time I’ve met him is that he always smells good. and hugging him is like a comfort. like, you just feel safe.

the first time I met misha, I was in the very first photo op group and was in the photo op room waiting for him to come in. my heart was POUNDING. and when he finally came in, the only thing my brain could think was “he’s real. he’s real. HE’S REAL.” he’s even more stunning than in photos/videos, and taller haha. when it was almost my turn I could not get enough oxygen in my lungs and for real thought I was gonna throw up lmao. that particular photo op was really fast bc he was EXHAUSTED from a delayed flight, poor guy. so I just asked for a simple hug and cried when it was over lmaoooo. it definitely has become a lot easier the more I’ve met him though. here are the photos from my first con with J2M.

my favorite experience with misha was during a Cas op. I had bought two photos, so when I came up to him, I showed him my castiel enochian tattoo. his face lit up when he recognized the enochian and he goes “no way! what does it say?” and after I told him he grinned and said it was awesome, and then he gave me a hug even though he wasn’t supposed to *weeps*. I then told him my mom was nooot happy about it and he grinned and said “hell yeah, good for you.” so the first photo I asked for what Cas’ reaction would be to the tattoo, and then the second one I just wanted to hold hands and look happy. this was the outcome. I weep. I did not know he was looking at me at all, let alone like that. 

another time, I never shared this experience with anybody, but at another con I was next in line for my misha photo op when a creation employee came up to me and said, “would it be okay if this woman went in front of you?” I looked over and it was an older woman in a wheelchair. obviously I was like “yes of course!” and the employee thanked me like 10 times and I told her she didn’t need to thank me, it wasn’t a problem at all. I didn’t realize misha was watching the entire time, and when I looked up he was staring at me. he gave me a smile and an approving nod, and when I stared grinning back at him he winked. dsfgjhdfljghlsdjfg. 

another time at an autograph, I gave him my supernatural research paper for my final core class in college that was 17 pages and I put my blood, sweat and tears into it. this is what happened.

aaaaand finally, I met him at a gishwhes meetup in atlanta, where I live. this is what happened. I made him laugh. and my favorite part about that time was that he saw my friend shove me to the side so he didn’t put his arm around her like he had to me lmao. 

TADA. sorry this is so long, when I start talking about cons and misha, I can’t stop lmao. if you read the whole thing, I hope this made u love misha even more <3

[mo-nighean-rouge]

Gone- IV

Jamie Fraser prepares to send Claire and Faith through the stones. A last-minute interference puts them all at stake.

A/N: Thanks to my bonnie beta @abbydebeaupreposts for telling me what needed to go, and what could be done better. This chapter happens to correspond to @gotham-ruaidh‘s writing prompt, “Five Years.”

Part I | Part II | Part III | AO3

Previously:

Jamie placed an open hand at Claire’s belly. “Name him Brian?” he whispered. “After my Da.”

Claire nodded as he lifted her right hand and kissed her ring, followed by each finger, then placed it on the tallest stone. “Until we meet again.”

They faded away before his eyes, just as Claire had nearly done on another bleak morning, years ago.

They were gone.

November 1, 1953 | Oxford, England

Jamie rolled his shoulders against the stiff, artificial material of his new coat. He marveled once more as he took in his surroundings. Claire’s stories about her time had been full of rich descriptions, but his meager imaginings didn’t match the sights he observed now.

Events from the past few months were a blur, save Fergus conspiring with the local men to break him out of prison at Fort William. Fergus. Though Jamie’s heart ached to leave him behind, he had no choice in the matter. The lad had not heard the call of the stones. Thinking about that beastly place turned his wame almost the same way as thinking about Fergus. Jenny and Ian. The bairns that called him uncle.

He thought instead about his son. He would be nearing his fifth birthday and while he had missed so much already, Jamie could not wait to finally join his family in a period of safety.

Even still, the air felt trapped in his lungs as he turned down one narrow street after another, closing in on the most recent address listed for the Randall family. Seeing those words printed together so matter-of-factly had sent chills through him. Much as he knew it was right, he had little idea of what would occur once he walked back into their lives. James Fraser, forced by circumstance to be nothing more than an absentee father. The last thing he’d ever wished to be in his lifetime. But such injustice would end today.

Jamie’s fingertips stroked the latch of the wee gate as he closed it gently behind him. Had the brass tarnished from Claire’s delicate hand caressing it in the same place each day as she went out into the world to answer the call of those who needed her?

He took a deep breath to steel himself as he climbed the last step and lifted the worn door knocker. He rapped it three times, clearly and confidently, as if to prove that it was no trifling matter that brought him to this place.

The door swung open, but no face was immediately visible on the other side.

Jamie looked down to meet crystal clear blue eyes set in a fine-boned face. Brown curls spilled over her shoulders, much longer than he’d last seen them.

He could scarcely see her through his tears. “A nighean,” he muttered over the knot in his throat.

Faith’s small brow crinkled. “May I help you?” she asked in a polished English accent.

Jamie’s heart fell to his stomach. “It’s m—” Jamie began. “Christ, but I should’ve expected ye might not remember.” He tugged the hat from his head and nervously fiddled with its brim.

“Is your mam home?” he asked softly.

“Faith?” called a deep voice of a cadence strangely familiar to Jamie. A figure stepped into the shadows just behind his lass.

“Faith Randall, you know better than to answer the door to strangers.” The man emerged fully into the light, and Jamie took a defensive step forward as if to put himself between this man and his child.

The man responded with a tight smile and placed a hand on Faith’s shoulder, even as she tensed under his hold. “Pardon me, but I do not believe you have any business here.”

“Frank?” called a soft voice from farther back in the house. Claire suddenly appeared from the recesses of the gloomy interior, and it was as if the sun finally came out on this dreary day. Beside her trailed a wee lad  – smaller than Jamie had expected.

But naught about her was recognizable. The lavender smudges beneath her thin eyelashes made his heart twinge. But what nearly undid him was the empty look in her eyes as they met his.

Claire squinted. “…Jamie?” she asked, as if trying to recall an acquaintance from a different lifetime.

“Aye,” he choked out, leaning forward to see around Frank. “Sassenach—”

“I don’t know what you’re about, but we don’t use that word in this home,” the other man said with an air of haughty reproach and moved to block Jamie’s view.

The bairn tugged on Claire’s hand, trying to get her attention.

She tilted her head toward him disinterestedly.

Jamie’s breath caught as the boy’s cinnamon curls reflected in the light from inside the house. “Will this be Brian?” he asked, hopeful. This was not any thing like the warm, joyful reunion he’d prayed for, but perhaps if he could stay just long enough to meet his son…

Claire cocked her head to the side, an empty smile forming on her lips. “There is no Brian. This our little Jack.”

Colors and sounds swirled around Jamie as he struggled to understand the bizarre scene in front of him. The only thing familiar was Faith, whose eyes hadn’t left him.

“Da?” she asked.

Did she remember him after all?

He stumbled forward to reach her. He’d pry her from Frank’s grasp if he had to, but he needed to touch something that he knew to be real amid this maddening farce. Faith suddenly broke free and ran toward him.

“Da?!” she beseeched.

Jamie woke to the weight of a clammy hand on his cheek. He shakily covered it with his own. Still tiny. Still there. He sat up in the dark and crushed Faith to him, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Taing dhia. What troubles ye, a leannan?”

“A-are ye sad, Da?” her little voice quivered against his chest.

He took a cursory glance to their right and spotted Claire’s tangled cloud of hair on the dusty floor, Fergus tucked under her arm. Just as they had been when he fell asleep earlier that night. “Nay, lass.” Filmy tears ran in his eyes. “No’ so long as ye’re with me.”

Faith snuffled against him.

Jamie stroked her back, realizing he’d likely frightened her with his greeting and thrashing about. “What’s all this, then?”

“ ’M scairt,” she muttered into his shoulder.

“Aye?” he whispered. “Of what?” But he had a terrible feeling that he knew.

“The man,” she whimpered. “He talked nice but he was sae mean, Da.”

Jamie closed his eyes, reminding himself that everything that had transpired in the past day was over. “Ye’ll no’ ever see him again, a chuisle. I swear to ye.”

Faith’s breathing returned to normal as he cradled her against him. She fell asleep with her hand gripping the collar of his shirt.

He wrapped her tighter in Claire’s tartan shawl and laid her next to Fergus, breathing a quick blessing over the both of them. He laid a hand on Claire’s shoulder.

“Mo ghraidh,” he whispered, brushing the back of his hand across her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open, her face falling as her gaze focused on him. “Is it time?”

“Nay, but I hoped ye’d have a word with me?”

Claire let him pull her up and place a gentle hand on her hip.

Murtagh startled at his post as he registered them passing through the door. His expression lightened only when he saw that Faith was not with them.

Jamie led his bride away from the hill, noting the way her features relaxed the further they traveled from it. He lifted her knuckle to his lips, then held her hand tightly with both of his.

“Sassenach, I must ask your forgiveness…”

Claire began to tug away, features downcast. “Jamie, just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I don’t understand it. You don’t have to keep defending yourself—” Her hand went limp in his and she spun around to head back to the bairns.

“Claire!” he caught her by the shoulders, forcing her to meet his eye. “I’m asking ye to stay.”

Her eyes widened. “Y-you’re… You’re sure?” Her hands found his tense shoulders.

“Aye. I… I’m no’ sure I can explain it.” He swallowed deeply, placing one hand on her belly. “But I think we can do it. We’ll hide in the priest hole until we can stow away on one of Jared’s ships. Or, Christ, there’s even a cave in the woods at Lallybroch. I’d sleep in a loch if it means I can keep ye…”

Jamie trailed off as he noticed the ravenous look in his wife’s eyes.

Their time together in the wee hours of the morning before had been gentle, savoring what they believed to be their last touches, and saying an impossible goodbye.

But there was something feral in the way that Claire tugged him down and climbed over him now.

She would have her revenge, and he wasn’t of a mind to stand in her way.

________________________________________

They embraced while laying on their sides, hands clasped. Her J entwined with his C, bound once more.

The sun rose over the fairy hill in the distance, casting an eerie glow around it.

The stones could kiss Claire’s English arse for all she cared, now.

She studied the face of her sweet lad, more relaxed now than it had been only moments before. There were still lines of worry caused by the unclear path that lay ahead, to be sure. But his heart still beat steadily beneath her palm, his hot blood warming her to the core.

Claire’s own pulse flickered rapidly as she recalled the events of the last 24 hours. How she’d hated him, and then grieved his loss all at once.

“I was so worried. For you, for Faith.” She knew her voice warbled, but there was hardly anything she could do about it at this point. Her emotions were likely to take free reign now that her deepest fears were relieved.

“I didn’t know how she would react to him…” She paused. “To Frank. The resemblance isn’t always obvious, Jamie. There are times I can almost forget.”

Claire remembered her hands shaking as she had tried to separate the two in her frantic mind that very morning. Was it Jack or Frank that she was cutting down? Or both?

Ultimately, it hadn’t mattered. Not when it was her baby girl in harm’s way.

“I wasn’t sure whether I could have faced him again,” she whispered into Jamie’s neck. “Knowing everything that I do now about the man he so revered.” She shuddered. “He would have touted that inglorious history to our children…”

Jamie had fallen silent, his throat working as he considered his next words. She palmed his cheek and met his eye. Tell me, she implored.

“Claire, I saw it.” The sharp edge returned to his voice, the only way he could speak of what he’d dreamt. “I dinna ken how or why, but I did. Poor Faith shied away from his touch. And…” Jamie ran the pad of his thumb over the bridge of her nose, then tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Your bonny eyes held no life. All the joy was sucked out of ye.” He swallowed.

She stroked his chest through the opening of his shirt as she listened.

"I’m no’ sure if it was yer grief or the despair of Frank's house but it was as if ye couldna even see the bairns,” his words rumbled, ragged.

Claire tilted her head. “Bairns? Not just Faith?” she questioned.

Jamie’s face flushed. “I saw a bonnie lad, Sassenach. Red curls and blue eyes, with yer delicate cheekbones.” He pinched the feature in question, as if marveling that she was still there with him.

“Brian,” she whispered, and watched peace fall over his face.

She held tighter to his hand. “We won’t let that happen. We’ll give them so much of our attention they’ll be sick of us.”

Jamie smirked, then leaned in closer to meet her lips. “All dozen o’ them.”

Claire chortled. “Keep dreaming, Fraser.”

“I think…” She paused to consider. “I think that if it hadn’t been for today, maybe it would have been okay.” She shuddered. “Going back there again. Frank would have done his best, and he would have been good at it.”

Claire paused to brush a rogue curl from his eye. “But it’s all different now.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you. For fighting for us. But also for being willing to give it all up.”

Jamie nodded, overcome, then squeezed his eyes closed. “Anything for ye.”

They watched the light rise in the sky, content to enjoy the first of many moments together in their reclaimed life.

“Murtagh will wonder what’s keeping us.”

Claire smirked, running her fingers through his locks. “One look at your hair and he’ll figure it out.”

Jamie’s hands lost themselves in her curls, then brandished the thistles he’d discovered. He gave her one of his classic attempts at a wink, making her heart soar.

*****************************************

They were both admittedly worse for the wear as they made their way back to the doorway of the ramshackle cabin.

Murtagh raised a bushy eyebrow. “Roll down the hill, did ye?”

Jamie gripped Claire’s hand tightly as they approached him as a united front. “Change of plans, a gostidh.”

*****************************************

They’d curled back up with Faith and Fergus for a scant half hour before rising again, just watching their children sleep in peace. Neither quite understood what Jamie had planned to sacrifice for their family, but Claire would make sure to tell them when they were older.

Their party was headed onward to seek refuge with Jamie’s uncle at the abbey. After much deliberation, they deemed it the safest place to bide for the remainder of her pregnancy, or at least until they plotted their next steps.

Jamie was of a mind to sleep during the day and travel under the cover of darkness. Claire glanced toward Fergus in time to watch the boy shake off encroaching slumber. They’d stopped only out of necessity, most often for her to relieve the growing pressure on her bladder or belly.

Murtagh’s horse crept several paces ahead, the Scot scouting the safest path. Lost in her own thoughts, Claire watched his profile disappear into the valley below.

Eager for a bit of lie-in herself, Claire was relieved to see the glow of dawn on the horizon. Jamie would be sure to know of a shady place for them to lay their heads.

She guided Brimstone over the steep decline of the hill, only to nearly slam into Jamie’s abandoned horse.

He stood stricken in horror, staring ahead.

Murtagh was being pulled down from Donas by two Redcoats. As they set his feet on the ground, he met Claire’s eye, his own full of guilt and shame.

She slid down from her own horse and sidled up to Jamie’s back as he tried to make himself impossibly bigger to hide her, lowering Faith to her arms.

Over his shoulder, she studied the English officers in the dim light. There was something oddly familiar about one of them.

To be continued.

[baronccorbin]

The Little Ones

Paring: Lucifer x Reader Prompt:  Lucifer and the reader had been together for a few months, the pregnancy went well until angels started to feel the power of their babies. Lucifer and the reader went to live at the bunker and I suck at this summary thing!   Part 1  Part 2 Word count: 3,510 Warnings: Smut, 18+

You moaned as Lucifer’s hand roamed your body, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he lifted your right leg, opening you completely for him. You rested your head on your pillow, loving the sensation of your husband’s cold fingers against your hot skin.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” he asked as his hand cupped your sensible breast, his fingers pinching your hardened nipples making you throw your head back in pure bliss.

“Please” you whisper, feeling your core ache in need, you didn’t need a lot of foreplay lately, just a few touches and kisses and you were ready to take Lucifer.

“Are you wet enough for me?” he asked, letting your breast go and moving his hand towards your heat “so ready for me” he whispered, leaving a wet kiss on the crook of your neck as his finger tips brushed over your sensible lips, growling at the feeling of your wetness coating his fingers.

You moaned as his fingers started to rub your clit, soft and gentle little rubs were enough to make you moan his name loudly. Lucifer loved that, he loved to have you begging for his cock with one single touch, he loved how desperate for release you got every time, he even loved you big baby bump, he loved the possessive felling that washed over him every time he saw your stomach swollen with his children, even when now the only way he could take you was sideways on the bed, he secretly loved that too.

“Lucifer” you moaned as he thrust a finger inside of you, making your hips jolt backwards

“Y/N” he moaned as your ass rubbed against his cock, you smiled knowing how ready he was for you and repeated the action, making sure that his cock rubbed against your ass with every thrust of his finger “you want it so bad, don’t you my love?” he asked as he pulled his finger out, taking it directly towards his mouth to relish your sweetness

“Yes” you nodded vigorously making him chuckle

“Okay” he whispered before taking his cock on his hand and giving it a couple of pumps, he positioned it so the tip was right against your entrance and slowly started to thrust it inside of you.

“Fuck” you moaned, feeling his thickness stretching your walls deliciously as he kept thrusting into you inch by inch until he was inside of you completely.

He moaned as he felt your warm wall surrounding him, never feeling more completed than when he was inside of you. His hand made it way towards your stomach, rubbing slightly before pressing his palm softly against it.

“Move” you whined “please baby” and that was everything you needed to say, he started pulling out all the way out until only the tip of his cock was inside of you before pounding it inside again. Your arm reached behind you until your hand grabbed a fist full of his dirty blond hair, using it to guide his face to yours and crash your lips together.

His cold and slightly chap lips felt incredible against your soft and warm ones, and you couldn’t help but moan when you felt his tongue exploring your mouth and dancing against yours. You sucked it harshly before breaking the kiss to let a loud moan out.

“Lucifer” you moaned as you felt the pleasure increasing to the point of explosion, clenching around him as you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Come on, Y/N” he whispered in your ear as he grabbed your leg and tossed it over his to open you up for him even more, using this as an advantage to rub your clit to make bring you over the edge

“Fuck” you screamed as you came hard around him, you walls clenching around him tightly igniting his own orgasm

“Y/N” he grunted as he came inside of you, his warm seed filling completely as he rode your high.  

“That was amazing” you whispered as you felt your heartbeat starting to get normal

“It is always amazing, Y/N” he smiled making you melt even more.

You were about to respond when you heard the flutter of wings and a loud intake of breath. You jumped trying to cover yourself as you turned to meet a wide-eyed, flustered Castiel standing by the door of your room.

“Little brother” Lucifer grunted, waving his hand and covering your naked bodies with clothes “haven’t those Winchesters teach you about this little thing called knocking?”

The dark headed angel nodded before looking at you in the eyes, the little blush never leaving his cheeks.

“Apologies, Y/N” he said before looking at his brother “I thought you were sleeping, it never occur me that you would be… intimating” he looked so adorably embarrassed that you couldn’t stop the giggle from leaving your mouth, Castiel looked at you again and smiled a little, relieved that you weren’t mad at him.

“No problem Cas” you smiled, sitting up by the end of the bed “wow” you whispered as you felt the little twitch at the side of your belly

“Are you okay” Lucifer was behind you two second after, his hands rapidly moving towards the baby bump, Castiel was also really close to you, a hint of worry on his eyes

“I’m fine” you laughed, lifting your shirt to reveal your big belly “someone is up” you smiled, tapping your skin lightly with on finger and smiling even wider when you saw your baby responding the gesture,  his whole hand pressing against your skin.

“Wow” you heard Castiel say, looking in awe at your stomach

“Amazing, huh?” you smiled at him and he returned the gesture

“It is… why the other baby is not doing the same?” he tilted his head, looking back at your belly intensely

“She’s right over…” you used your hand to touch around you bump, seeking for the now familiar feeling of your baby girl pressed against you “here” you pressed your palm against the opposite side “she doesn’t really wake up until later”

“Oh” he said, still not looking at you

“This is good and all” your husband’s voice made Castiel straighten his posture “but why are you here?” he asked making you roll your eyes

“He’s your brother” you elbowed him “he’s welcome here”

“Not at 7 in the morning” the archangel scoffed

“You don’t even sleep”

“But you do” he wrapped one arm around your body, bringing you closer to him “you need rest, Y/N. You are six months pregnant with two half angel babies… you need as much rest as you can get”

“Is not like I was sleeping though” you smirked back at him making him chuckle

He was about to respond but you were interrupted again by the angel on a trench coat, who cleared his throat loudly to draw the attention towards him again, he was kind of scar you would start “intimating” again, right in front of him.

“Sorry” you whispered, feeling your face heating up

“No problem” your ‘brother in law’ smiled at you, but then his face became serious “I am here to take you with me” he stated “your babies… they are powerful, and their power can be sensed by other angels” you gasped, knowing that it wasn’t a good thing “I need to take you to the bunker, we can protect you there. Just until we can stop Michael”

“How do I know your damn Winchester won’t try to hurt her?” Lucifer almost growled, wrapping his other arm around you and tightening his hold, soon enough you saw his soft, white wings wrapping around you as well.

“Luci” you whispered but he didn’t look at you, he was too busy looking at his brother with narrowed eyes

“We are not going to harm them, Lucifer” Castiel assured “you know Dean loves her like a sister, he has been in this house, and he helped you set the Demon tramps when you moved here”

“He’s right, Love” you muffled voice was heard from inside the feather forth “you know Dean won’t do anything to hurt us”

“What about the other one?”

“Sam is okay with this too” Castiel said “even if he isn’t he won’t hurt her either… you will be there, I will be there… even Crowley will be there”

There was silence for what it felt like hours until Lucifer decided that even when he didn’t like to admit it, he wouldn’t be able to protect you by himself and he would rather lose all his pride than lose you or his children

“Okay” he sighed, unwrapping his wings from you “let’s go”

-

The first thing you felt, after the normal dizziness of being transported by an angel, were two strong arms being wrapped around you, you didn’t even need to open your eyes to see who it was, the smell of whiskey, motor oil and mint were enough.

“You’re so fat” you heard the deep manly voice of your big brother muffled against the fabric of you shirt

“Fuck off, Winchester” you groaned, shoving it to the side and faking annoyance

“Still beautiful, though” he smiled making you chuckle a little

“I missed you” you smiled

“Me too, Bobby will be here in a few hours” he informed you, taking your bag from Lucifer’s hand and walking towards your old room

“Hello to you too” Lucifer grunted as you took his hand and dragged him towards the direction Dean was taking

“Hey Luci” the older Winchester smirked making you kick his leg “Ouch!”

“Shut up” you hissed

“You had to tell him” you husband sighed as you entered your room

“Wasn’t me”

“It was me, actually” you heard the British accent from some part of the room; you turned around to see Crowley standing by your bed, a big smirk on his face.

“You promised not to talk about that, Fergus” you groaned earning a laugh from Dean

“I forgot about that name” he said between laughs

“You’ll pay for this” the King of Hell said

“Right” you scoffed “Will you send Juliet to chase me?” you asked, faking horror

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me” he ignored your last question “I need a drink” and with that, he was gone.

“Okay” Dean sighed as he calmed down “this will be your room for the next days or weeks, I don’t know” he walked towards the door, but stopped as he saw you caressing your belly “how my nephew by the way?” he asked walking towards you to place a hand on top yours

“He’s good, Dean” you smiled; taking his hand and placing it on your belly, letting him feel your hyperactive child. He chuckle in awe as he felt your son kicking his hand.

“Your niece is good too” Lucifer said as he began unpacking your clothes

“N-niece?” Dean looked at you with wide eyes “I knew it wasn’t normal for you to be this fat” he blurted out, making you roll your eyes

“She’s not fat, you ass” Lucifer scoffed, walking behind you and wrapping a protective arm around you “she’s bringing new life to this world”

“I know” Dean raised his hands “I’m kidding” he smiled at you, letting you know that he didn’t mean it “do you have names yet?”

“We are naming the girl Iris” your husband informed him, smiling proudly at the name he chose

“That’s pretty” Dean nodded “what about the little guy?”

“Dean” you said, wrapping your hand around Lucifer’s, waiting for his reaction.

“What?” he asked, looking at you with his eyebrows raised

“Dean” you repeated “we are naming him Dean” you watched as his eyes widened, realization washing over him

“O-oh… that’s… oh god” he closed his eyes before wrapping his arms around you, pulling Lucifer into the hug as well

“Are you okay with that?” you asked against his shirt

“Okay?” he scoffed as he let you go, wiping some tears from his eyes “of course I’m okay, Y/N” he smiled and you returned the gesture

“Just make sure you live long enough for my kid to know who he was named after” you half joked, earning an eye roll from the green-eyed hunter

“Of course” he laughed and you laughed too, but all the laughter was gone when a tall figure appeared by the door, it didn’t take long for the pair of wings to wrap around you once again, making you sigh and shake your head

“H-hi… Y/N” Sam muttered from the door

“Hi Sam” you smiled tightly

“Can we talk?” he asked you but he was looking directly at Lucifer who tensed behind you

“Come on, Luci” you whispered you loud enough for him to hear “we’ll just talk” he slowly unwrapped his wings but didn’t move, not until Dean tugged his shirt and dragged him out of the room saying something along the lines of ‘She won’t leave you, you already knocked her up’

“So…” you trailed off as you sat at the edge of your bed “what’s up?”

“Listen…” Sam sighed and sat next to you on the bed “I’m sorry… about everything that happened between us, about me leaving you like I did” you flinched at the memory “it wasn’t me, Y/N… it was the demon blood, you know that I wouldn’t have done that in my right mind”

“What you need to understand Sam is that you did it in your right mind” you shook your head, standing up to get some distance between you “when Ruby approached you, when she talked with you about all that nonsense, you were on your right mind” you shook your head when you saw that he was going to respond “it never occurred you that maybe your girlfriend needed to know what you were doing, all those hunts Sam, you told me they were minor and in reality you were meting her”

“I’m sorry”

“I don’t know what you want from me” you whispered

“I want you to forgive me, I want you to look at me like you used to, I want you to talk to me… it kills me to know that Dean goes to your house and sees you but I can’t”

“I will never look at you like I used to, Sam” you shrugged “I looked at you with love, but I don’t love you anymore” he winched at your words “I looked at you with respect and that’s something you lost… you lost my respect the day you betrayed me, the day you lied to me looking straight to my face. You lost the right to talk to me the day that you left me on the floor, crying for you to stay with me” you shook your head

“I’m sorry” he whispered over and over again

“I’m sorry too, Sam” you said, swallowing a lump in your throat “I’m sorry that we had to end up like that… but it wasn’t because of me… so now don’t ask me to talk to you like nothing happened, maybe someday… maybe someday I will be able to trust you enough to let you back into my life, but right now I can’t Sam”

“I… I understand” he said after a few minutes

“Good”

-

It was a weird, stressful months for everyone at the bunker. With angels trying to find you and rouge demons trying to kick Crowley’s ass, everyone was busy with research and with hunts. You didn’t ask many questions, you just listened to the updates Lucifer gave you before you went to sleep or the little information Castiel let slip out when he went to see you and the babies.

It surprised you to see Lucifer and the guys working together, especially with Bobby, who still wasn’t too familiarized with your husband. But together they managed to send Michael to the cage where Lucifer used to be, but that didn’t end there. They spend more time trying to find a way to get Adam’s body out without Michael in it; they looked for the answer everywhere but couldn’t find it.

It was a hard time for everyone, expect for Crowley who really didn’t care about it but faked sympathy when you kicked him under the table.

Dean felt guilty about the whole thing, but tried to fake a smile on his face when he was around you, not wanting to upset you and hurt you or the babies, it didn’t work though, you saw right through it and he finally broke down in front of you, letting everything go as you rubbed his back and told him everything was going to be fine, just like he had done whenever you felt bad about not saving someone.

Right now you were cooking some breakfast, tired of the food from the diner a few miles from the Bunker, you decided to make some eggs and toasts for everyone in the bunker, everyone that actually ate.

“You need to rest” Lucifer groaned for the 100th time, giving you everything you needed form the counters and not letting you do much

“I am fine, Lucifer” you rolled your eyes “I can make breakfast”

“There’s no need for that, Y/N” you heard from the other side of the kitchen where a too tired Dean stood “I can go for something”

“No need” you sighed “I’m just finshi-“ you couldn’t finish you sentence as you felt and foreign popping sensation within you, followed by a warm liquid wetting your shorts and dripping from your legs “uh-oh”

“What?” Lucifer and Dean asked at the same time following your gaze and looking at your now wet legs and wet floor

“Gross, Y/N” Dean groaned “I didn’t know pregnant woman couldn’t control their bladders”

“That’s not pee, you ape” Lucifer grunted, standing behind you and lifting you bridal-style “She’s having my babies”

“Oh shit” Dean gasped, looking at you wide-eyed “what do we do? Where do we go? Castiel!” he started panicking making you roll your eyes

“My room” you said “Call Bobby”

“How are you this calm?” Dean asked, running towards Bobby’s room with Lucifer behind him as he carried you towards your room

“The contractions haven’t kicked in yet”

-

“Come on, Y/N” Bobby padded your leg, encoring you to push again

“It’s not that fucking easy” you growled before doing as he said “AAAHG” you screamed as you pushed with everything you got, the pain making you scream more than the force you used.

Lucifer couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted you to finish as soon as possible, the little help he could give you wasn’t enough anymore

“Come, my love” he whispered, kissing your clammy forehead “I know you can do it… just our baby girl and you’re done”

“Better said than done” you rolled your eyes before pushing again

“Not so calm now, huh?” Dean asked from the corner of the room with little Dean on his arms

“SHUT UP” you screamed as you pushed harder

“I see the head” Bobby announced

“Thank God!” you exclaimed, feeling too exhausted to keep pushing for another hour  

“Just one more”

“AAAH!” you screamed as you pushed with everything you had, squeezing Lucifer’s hand for some sort of support.

“That’s it” you heard before a loud cry filled the room. Dean hurried to bring a towel and a blanked to cover your little girl with and handed them to Bobby who cleaned her and wrapped her before putting her on your lap “wanna meet your little girl, mom?” he asked

“Oh my God” you whispered as you held your baby girl for the first time. She was swollen and red and probably looked weird to everyone else but for you she was the most beautiful baby girl you had ever seen  

“Don’t forget about Casanova over here” Dean said as he placed your little boy on your free arm  

“Hey” you whispered as you saw little Dean stir in your arms, his little hand gripping the fabric of your shirt tightly  

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Lucifer asked, looking in awe and adoration at the little ones on your arms.

“Yes” you smiled, kissing his mouth softly

“Thank you, Y/N” he whispered, resting his forehead in yours and wrapping an arm around you and the babies “for loving me, for giving me a family”

“No need to thank me, my love” you smiled “you helped me with this, you made it possible when you looked for me”

“I love you” he said before kissing you once more “I love you and my little ones” he rubbed you little girls cheek and gasped when she wrapped her little hand around his finger

“They love you too, baby” you smiled “not more than me, though”

“You’re so cute it’s gross” Dean groaned

“Let the be happy idjit”

“Do they have wings?”

“We can’t see them if they do”

“That’s not fair”

“Shut up, Dean” everyone in the room groaned

[phaedrecameron]

House of Fraser, Chpt 11 - Three Days

This is for the anon asking for the next chapter 😀

“Umph.” Geneva leaned heavily against Jamie’s side as he pushed open the door to her flat. After she announced her plans to go to a pub and get laid, Jamie decided to see her home. He knew she wasn’t serious; that she was drunk - said it to wound him and to protect her pride, but he wouldn’t see her hurt in case she tried it.  He hailed a taxi and slipped in beside her as he directed the driver to her flat. She quickly fell asleep against his shoulder.

Once in her flat, Jamie placed her in a chair at her kitchen table. As he was putting her shoes near her feet, she reached for his shoulders and tried to kiss him.  He held her back by the upper arms. “No, Geneva. I canna. It isna fair to ye.”

“But I don’t care. We can still be together,” she tried to touch him, but Jamie held her in place.

“I canna be with ye anymore, not when I love another.” He watched her swallow and look away.  He crouched further down and forced her to look at him. “It isna fair to me either, aye?”

He released her and stood.

“Perhaps a break?  She doesn’t want you anymore. Once she’s married, you’ll never see her again….maybe you’ll forget?”

“No.”

She started as though he’d struck her.

“I’m sorry, Geneva.”

He turned and left.

                                                  ******

“Ugh.” Jamie pushed back from a desktop work station in his studio. The textures and patterns of his spring line refused to take shape. He walked to his drafting table, adjusting the waistband of his fitted jogging bottoms along the way. In the past, pencil and paper had always helped him push past a creative block, but not today. Today, he was in a ‘mood,’ as Marsali had said after he apologized for snapping at her this morning. Jamie tapped his thigh and looked to his office desk where his mobile sat.  

After leaving Geneva’s flat, he’d texted Claire to ensure she safely made it home. ‘Yes,’ was her one word reply. Jamie brushed off her terseness as due to her being tired. The next day he emailed her the final design drafts for her dress. Her wedding was two weeks away and there was but one fitting left. She usually replied to his emails within the hour; this time a full day passed before she responded, ‘thank you.’ Jamie tried to tamp down his unease. He knew this was coming, knew she’d marry Randall and leave his life as quickly as she’d entered it.

From beneath a stack of sketchbooks and fabric swatches, he pulled out Claire’s photo. It was the first photo he took of her. He smiled to himself. From the very first moment he saw that curly wig and her whisky eyes, he was done for. She’d wrecked him. Ruined him to his very core.  He didn’t want think she was mad at him for what he’d said about Randall, for maybe they could still be friends. He scoffed. How could they be friends? How could he be near her and not want her? It might be doable if Randall were remotely worthy of her, if he knew her man would do right by her, but Randall would not. Everything that made Claire who she was Randall wanted to snuff out. He would slowly kill her spirit and that, above everything else, angered Jamie.

“Jamie!”  John shouted from the entry way, “Claire called to reschedule tomorrow’s fitting. You’re at HQ for the next two days after, so I told her Friday? Good?”

“What?” Jamie replied perplexed.

“I said, Claire called –“

“Aye, aye. I heard ye. Good. I understand.”

But of course Jamie didn’t understand. Claire always scheduled her fittings through him. He went to his office and grabbed his mobile to call her. It went to voicemail.

                                                        ********

Claire walked into Helwater Fashions and slowly removed her scarf. She looked back at the door she just entered. How many times had Jamie entered that same door? She swore to herself she’d be strong. Meeting Jamie had irrevocably changed her life. She wouldn’t be sad. She would be happy - for herself and for him. She heard voices.

“Hullo?”

John came to the front and stopped at seeing her. “Dr. Beauch..Claire? I thought we rescheduled for Friday. Jamie’s not here. He’s at a meeting with corporate.” John began moving to his desktop to check the schedule.  Marsali entered and looked over John’s shoulder.

“Oh, I spoke with Jamie yesterday,” Claire lied, “I told him I’d be nearby and asked if I could see the dress.”

Marsali and John exchanged looks.

“I can try to call him Claire. He’ll come if he knows you’re here, but he can be hard to reach at corporate,” said Marsali.

“No!” Claire softened her voice.  “I mean, he’s very busy. I don’t want to disturb him. It’s almost finished, yes? I just wanted to try it.”

John’s eyebrows knitted while he finished checking the shared calendar, confirming Jamie made no entry about Claire’s arrival. “Well, Jamie’s pretty good about telling me his schedule, but he has been out of sorts the last few days. Marsali, pull the dress for Claire.”

Claire nodded her thanks. She followed Marsali down the long hallway to Jamie’s studio, looking into each room as she passed.  She saw the conference room where she’d first met Jamie; the room where he found her on her mobile before their first fitting; the side hall where he first took her photo. She stopped at his personal office. She looked through the window and saw a photo on a back shelf of a puppy Fergus with his nephew.

“Are ye alright?” Marsali put her hand on Claire’s arm where it covered her heart.  “Maybe we should try Jamie?”

“No.” Claire shook her head and tried to smile. “Thank you, it’s just been a long day, just the dress if you please.”

Marsali hesitated, “Okay, wait in the studio.” As Marsali disappeared to retrieve the dress, Claire walked to Jamie’s drafting table. A smile split her face as she picked up his glasses. She realized for the first time that he had multiple pairs of glasses. Of course he did. She shook her head as she sat them down. There was a wool scarf on the back of his chair. She touched the scratchy material and ran her fingers across the Harris Tweed label. She looked around for Marsali. Not seeing her, she snatched the scarf and brought it to her nose.  She was flooded with his scent.  “No tears. He’s happy,” she whispered out loud. Claire sat down the scarf and turned to the small table with his ‘sporran box.’  She tilted it and peered at its contents; caps for missing pens, a nail file, half broken colored pencils, paper clips, staples, and pencil erasers. She looked to the side of the box and saw a new packet of unopened hair pins. “Oh god.”

“What’s that?” Marsali came floating in with Claire’s wedding gown.

Claire swallowed her tears. “It’s nothing, will you help me into it?”

Claire stood before the mirror, John and Marsali on either side. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” said Marsali, “it really suits ye. Jamie knows what he’s doing, aye?”

“Yes,” Claire breathed out. This time she let two tears escape. Turning to John, “will you take my picture? I want to remember it.”

John and Marsali exchanged another look.

John took several photos of Claire. He printed a few on HF’s high resolution printer and handed them to her. “We’ll see you on Friday for the last minute detailing?”

Claire didn’t answer his question, but pulled out her credit card. “I know you charged Frank Randall for the deposit, but will you refund his money and charge the entire balance to this.”

John said nothing, but grabbed her card and turned to complete the transaction.

“Will Jamie get in trouble? If the dress isn’t seen?”

John turned back to face her. Marsali was at her elbow, “do ye want a different dress?”

“No, no. I was just curious.”

“Well, no,” John answered. “It isn’t public that Jamie or HF is designing your gown. No one’s expecting it. If it were well received it would help his career, but if you don’t wear it, the public would be none the wiser. Also, Geneva’s kept most of the details under wraps from HF’s other designers and corporate. He’d be fine.”

Claire felt queasy remembering Geneva’s arm entwined with Jamie’s as they went home together.

“I see.” Claire pulled an envelope from her purse. “Will you give that to Jamie when he returns to the studio on Friday. It’s not important, it will keep till he returns.”

She thanked them and was gone.

                                                       ********

“Christ! I almost slit my own wrists.” Jamie announced to John as he entered the studio. “Ye’ve no idea how asinine those meetings are – why the hell do the designers need to be there?”  

John laughed, “boss problems, eh?”

Jamie flipped him off on the way to his office. He noticed a small Christmas tree on his desk. Marsali. He moved it to a back shelf and glanced at his overflowing inbox. He ignored it and sat.  He felt exhausted - he’d barely slept the last three days. It was as if his subconscious decided it could slow down the passage of time by not sleeping. Delay the arrival of today; the day of Claire’s last fitting.  Jamie hadn’t left a message when he called her. He didn’t know what to say. Claire didn’t return the missed call either. He scrubbed a hand across his face and reached for his inbox. There he noticed a small stack of photos that were paper clipped together. It was Claire. Claire, in her nearly finished gown, in a photo he had not taken. What the devil? He stood. He flipped the first photo over and then back again. He fanned through the rest of the photos and ran to the door.

“John! Marsali!”

After they both explained, Jamie stood silent.

“I knew we should have called him,” Marsali said to John.  She looked to Jamie, “what’d her letter say?”

Jamie blankly stared.

“I attached an envelope to the –“

Before John could finish his sentence, Jamie ran back to his office and reached into his inbox. Her letter had become separated from the photos.  He tore open the letter.

Jamie,

Thank you. The dress is exquisite. Absolutely stunning. But knowing your talent, it could not have been otherwise. I deeply apologize for wasting your time, but I couldn’t go through with it. I left Frank.

Jamie’s hands started to shake. He stopped reading and touched the discarded envelope. If the envelope were real, that meant the letter was real. He focused back to her letter.

I hope you’ll forgive the cowardly way I’ve chosen to tell you about the dress, but I’ve always hated goodbyes. The dress is fully paid for and you have my unreserved permission to sell it to someone else.

Jamie, I must have re written this letter a dozen times and I’m still unable to adequately express what meeting you has meant to me. I’m not embarrassed to admit that you saved me. You saved me, James Fraser. You helped me to save myself. And I will be forever grateful.

I wish you all the success and happiness that you so richly deserve.

Claire

“Damn you!” Jamie yelled at her letter. “Damn you, woman!” Shock turning to desperation, “why did ye no come to the studio!?” His fists curled. A sense of shame washed over him – he knew something was wrong since the gala, yet he’d let her be just as Randall would have done.

Now, his only thought was finding her. It didn’t matter how or where, whether she wanted him or no, he had to see her.

His fingers were unusually slow and clumsy as he tried to dial her number.

“Here.” Marsali took his mobile. She’d come to his office door to check on him.

Jamie thanked her as she left and closed the door. The line immediately went to voicemail. Ifrinn!

“Claire, where –“

Jamie heard raised voices through his office door.

“Fraser! You bastard!” Said the unmistakable voice of Frank Randall.

Jamie walked to the lobby.  Randall’s eyes focused on him as he spat, “Where the fuck is my wife?!”