#I love Dirk he is my precious baby]

[landwriter]

Ten Books To Know Me

Rules: 10 (non-ancient) books for people to get to know you better, or that you just really like.

Tagged by @softest-punk, thank you for utterly derailing my afternoon into nostalgia <3 My problem is less not picking ancient books and more not picking exclusively Canadian and English children’s lit published between 1995 and 1999. (Still the first three picks all the same though because it is like, the opus within which my psyche is almost wholly contained.) This got long but I'm going to be very brave and not apologize about that at all. I love talking about books, and these are some of the books I love the most. In chronological order of arrival into my heart.

Some of the Kinder Planets - Tim Wynne-Jones This book has been a part of my life for so long I cannot remember when, exactly, I first read it - only that it was taken from my gran’s shelf; Tim had sent her a copy with a lovely inscription. It’s a short story collection which remains today (and forever) my favourite format. Ted Chiang’s Exhalation, Karin Tidbeck’s Jagannath, Karen Russell’s Orange World, Margaret Atwood’s Stone Mattress are all fabulous examples, stacked before me at my desk, but Some of the Kinder Planets itself lives (alongside my two most precious childhood stuffies) at my mum’s house, the safest place of all. The stories are kids being kids in the way you want to read as a kid yourself: clever and wondering and scared and brave. Special mention also to his Zoom trilogy, beautifully illustrated in black and white by Eric Beddows.

Skellig - David Almond Another book likely pilfered from my granny’s library. There’s a little magic in Some of the Kinder Planets, but here is ALL the magical realism, and it changed me. This book has a sickly bird-or-man-or-angel in a garage being nursed to health by a boy with an ill baby sister in hospital that he can’t help at all; the indelible image of surviving off bluebottles and then getting snuck Chinese takeaway and brown ale; nature and weird kids and William Blake poems. I will weep if I continue thinking about it.

[Not Any Book But Just A Lot Of Books] - Kit Pearson, Diana Wynne-Jones, Kenneth Oppel, Philip Pullman, Madeleine L’Engle, etc. Listen, I know this is an INSANE cop-out but if you know the authors you know more or less exactly what I mean. These are the books that made me more tender than I already was, made me believe in Good, and Kindness, and Love, in a totally immutable way I thankfully do not ever want to change, because I don’t think I could.

Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett My first introduction to Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, and footnotes. Also one of the first books I did not simply pick up because it was Lying Around. I bought it because my older cousin listed it as one of her favourite books on Facebook, and she was (and is) impossibly, horribly cool. I was maybe 13 or 14 and wanted to be cool too. I’ve since read a smattering of Gaiman but I’ve yet to read Terry Pratchett on his own. I’d like to! I know I’d love it.

The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul - Douglas Adams Loaned to me by my best friend before we were best friends. It is, apparently, the second novel in the Dirk Gently series, and I remember nothing of it except a very good bit about a couch getting stuck in a stairwell; nonetheless it’s listed here because this is clearly actually a thinly disguised chronology of sentimentality, and also because Douglas Adams is a wonder and delight to read and I don’t need to fully remember the book to know that in my bones. I’m not sure if it’s fair but I’ll also blame Douglas Adams for my inability to be brief and to resist using semi-colons. Could’ve been someone else. But it was definitely someone English.

Sailing to Byzantium - W.B. Yeats This is not a book, but it was in my English Literature textbook in high school, so it counts. If it wasn’t, I would still count it. Why a sixteen year old girl connected with a poem that begins “That is no country for old men.” is irrelevant, as is every stanza but the third, which contains the fateful, ruinous lines: “Consume my heart away; sick with desire / And fastened to a dying animal / It knows not what it is;” I remember when I read it, and I remember the chill feeling of Yeats’ spectral hand reaching all the way from his grave in County Sligo, across the whole Atlantic and the enormous landmass called Canada, to reach into my chest and cruelly grab my own heart, and I remember thinking How, and Exactly. The first thing I read that named the strangeness I felt inside of me. The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost of all my teenage angst. Written on my bones to this day, if I’m being honest.

Hamlet - Shakespeare We got off on the wrong foot, after I was personally victimized by the line ‘Brevity is the soul of wit’, but I do love Shakespeare. I credit this to having an excellent teacher for it, and reading it aloud in a cohort of tryhards and musicians and theatre kids. A case of familiarity breeds...appreciation, actually. We did a lot of Shakespeare, but we were asked to learn 20 lines of Hamlet specifically, and rewrite them, marked down for every error. Forty lines for bonus marks. There was much grousing and it seemed like a cruel, outdated task of rote memorization, but writing this a decade later, I am belatedly realizing this was a sneaky way to get a bunch of kids to recite a soliloquy so much that they couldn’t help but find the life in it, the rhythm and meter to make it stick in our minds. And now look! I love it! I am writing fanfic in iambic pentameter! Wherefore art my fucking restraint!! I learned my lines so hideously well that when I pulled up the scene just now (2.2, from “Yet I, a dull and muddy-mettled rascal peak”), I a) noticed and b) was offended by, minute differences from the version I memorized, which I then searched out and knew the moment I found. Incredible?!  

Still Life With Woodpecker - Tom Robbins The most recent time I’ve read a work of fiction and been rearranged by it, at the tender age of 21. here I am, I wrote, in my journal, after a very good sob, happier and more rudderless than ever. This man writes with totally unfettered joy and unhinged sincerity, two things I am hopelessly into, but also with a deep distaste for institutions and conformity that I desperately needed back then: lost, returned from a year of magical realism and the sort of adulthood growth spurt that makes you feel dizzy, home and yet horribly missing the home I’d made for myself elsewhere, all my nearly-fulfilled ambitions towards security and prestigious government postings feeling sort of hollow and reeking in my hands. It comforted me that I wasn't wrong as much as it spilled my own guts into my hands, and while I went on for another year seeing things through, it planted a seed that quickly grew proper roots and pushed me right off the ledge of respectability. And it’s a love story, of course.

It’s his prose that sits glowing on the horizon to me when I try to write richly: a distant shore of orgiastic language (from which you can surely hear the wind-carried cries of people fucking day and night), towards which I, still shy and prudish, ever point my prow.

How to Be Happy - Eleanor Davis A comic collection. Sharp and wonderful and alive. Another Best Friend gift (bless those around us with impeccable taste), of which every single panel is MARVELOUS. I meant to share one of my favourites here but apparently it has! Gotten up and left!! I will buy another copy in hopes of coaxing it back out of wherever it’s hiding.

Down to Earth - Monty Don This did not rearrange anything. But it does give me a good hug about it, so to speak. A month-by-month gardening guide which is chock-full of brilliant, sensible advice, and also so cheerfully comforting in a highly specific English way that I actually feel like I’m drinking a cuppa whenever I read a page or two of it. It makes me think of my grandmother. And so we’ve come full circle, eh?

I hope some of you are now nodding thoughtfully and thinking, well, Chrissakes, that explains it. Very sorry, hope this helps, etc. Passing on the tag to @fancy-rock-dove, @chubsthehamster, @broomsticks, @wordsinhaled, @btwimkindagay, @hardly-an-escape, @xx-vergil-xx, @that-banhus, and anyone else who wants to expose themselves on main and chat about their fave books

[what-if-nct]

Also Dirk Benedict who played Face in the A team can sing I am crying. Also Face gets shot. I'm crying again. Also he was chased by a man with a gun. He looked around and then bumped into a T R E E lmao. He literally saved himself by throwing a bible at that man and ran away. It was so random but so funny.

No I am not obsessed with the A team. Also Murdock is like the weirdo and he's like so weird. He's like me. He came back from nam as a weirdo. Thats the plot honestly. But like there was this one scene where's a gunfire, and Murdock has to sit in a ton in the middle of the fire so he can fire back from closeby. He was wearing earprotectors, but as he actually had to get up, he stayed down in the ton and covered his ears, cringing from the sounds of the bullets (and dynamite Face was throwing dynamites). Poor baby :((((( (He did manage to get up and shoot back, but as the bad guys drove away they ran over Murdocks ton my poor baby :((((((((( )

No I am NOT obsessed.

Anyways so Mark Lee is the adorablest person ever. Hendery is so weird. Yangyang. Yangyang i love that baby. Also the Kun Xiaojun Mickey tiktok I remember that move in Kick Back. I always watched Xiaojuns pretty coloured hair kickback focus cam. I love him so much. I have read a fanfiction about Kun unvirgining Xiaojun and it was so sweet. They were making sweet love.

Also animals are the best creatures ever. I love cats. Also geckos and foxes. And sheep. Sheep are so amazing and cute. Also goats. And ponies. Actually every animal except the scary ones.

I read Andy Griffiths book 'just disguisting' and it was so disguisting. Theres a list of disguisting things in it and theres 'cockroaches without head' and 'saliva' and 'when youre drinking a cup of cold water but you realise you accidently drank a cup of cold saliva'. I recommend the book. Do you know the treehouse series from Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton? It's literally the best.

-sneeze

I love how much you love the A-team. I also love how you talk about them. I can just feel how much the show makes you happy. And like jumping in a tree to get away from a bad guy already funny but defeating him by hitting him with a bible, like that is comedic genius. Awww the war ptsd got to him, poor little guy.

Hendery is a little weirdo I love him. Also I really need people to put respect on Hendery's version of the Ok lyric. It goes Jeno, Hendery, Yangyang, Mark, Taeyong. Am I biased to deeper voices? Yes but I said what I said. Honestly Hendery and Yangyang are tied for second. And I miss kick back wayv. Xiaojun's hair was so pretty. But I am in love with his hair now, I hope they keep it for their next comeback. And they posted a wayv x dream vlog or a Renjun hanging out with his cousins and Haechan tagging along vlog.

Animals are the best, I was at my mom's house yesterday and there's a cat in her apartment complex and I went to pet the kitty and she laid down and let me pet her, she was so soft and fluffy and let me rub her belly. My mom said she was a guard kitty cause she protected her from the birds. And she was the most precious guard kitty.

I looked up just disgusting cause it sounded familiar and I knew it did, I always saw it in the library at school, but because I was in elementary and this was the early 2000s, I was like ew that's a boys book I don't wanna read that, I wanna ready Madeline and Junie B Jones. And Arthur I loved Arthur. I still watch Arthur as an adult. But now as an adult and I no longer see things as boys stuff and girls stuff, it looks really cool and I wanna check it out. And I'm surprised its written by Andy Griffith, it look me so long to realize Matlock was Andy Griffith, I always knew who don knotts was no matter what age cause he always looked the same plus I use to watch threes company as a kid, Christie was my favorite.

[dedicatedfollower467]

MDZS and Homestuck

✪ ω ✪ thank you thank you you're so good to me

mdzs/cql:

blorbo (fav): lan wangji, my precious darling baby boy! he is just a funky little autistic man who is madly in love with an adhd wreck and he's perfect

scrunkly (cuteness overload): a-yuan!!!! he is! just a little baby! (literally!) and it is so goddamn cute!!! literally started screaming at one of the scenes he's in and could not stop because it's so goddamn adorable!! i can't believe it's fucking CANON!!!!

scrimblo bimblo (underrated): gonna go with Jiang Yanli here, because nobody (NOBODY) appreciates her enough, not even her little brothers.

glup shitto (obscure fave): hm. i don't think i really have one? i am kinda new to this fandom and i'm still very obsessed with the main dudes atm and on top of that i am not usually much of an obscure fave person so idk.

poor little meow meow (“problematic” fave): jin guangyao. just. so problematic. so fave.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): lbr here they're ALL fun to torment but i think so far i have had the MOST fun tormenting jiang cheng. because. he just cries and screams so pretty y'know.

eeby deeby (send them to superhell): jin fuckface the bastard-maker, yes that's what i call him, no i will not learn his actual name.

homestuck:

blorbo: dave strider is love. dave strider is life.

scrunkly: oh the mayor 100%

scrimblo bimblo: nobody appreciates Jane Crocker enough and it SHOWS.

glup shitto: do they count as an obscure fave if its an au version of a canon character from an implied potentially-canon universe? if so, beforan karkat. if not, idk probably the Helmsman.

poor little meow meow: you know under other circumstances i would probably go with dirk but honestly? honestly i'm kinda feeling hal strider tonight. hal is just a bitter sarcastic little robot boy and it's not his fault.

horse plinko: dirk strider is INCREDIBLY fun to torture.

eeby deeby: currently feeling very "fuck that guy" about grandpa harley

[burberryfaerie]

If Tonks had a younger sibling Pt 4 :

Pairings : Cedric diggory x gryffindor!reader

Warnings : Angst, fluff, character death, torture, crying, swearing, a war basically, possible spelling mistakes

A/N : In case if you're asking, yes i was crying during writing this.

Tags: @loveitsonlyforthebrave ❤️

Hermione apparates you to a place called Tottenham Court Road.

“The heck is a cappuccino? Is it better than butterbeer?”

Your ring suddenly rings violently and you can't understand why?

Dolohov and Rowle rudely interrupt your thoughts.

Going to Grimmauld place knowing damn well you're being followed.

Arthur Weasley's patronus reassuring that everyone is okay.

Remus's unlikely visit.

Muggle-borns are targeted by the ministry.

Your father and best friend are targeted.

Dora's pregnant.

You'll have your own niece / nephew.

But he wants to leave her.

“Me and my family went through shit Remus, and I won't let you break my sister's heart.”

Hating Remus with every inch of you.

Because how dare he breaks Dora's heart.

Kreacher's tale.

Regulus died as a good person who lived beneath the shadows of his prejudiced family.

The locket is with umbridge.

well, fuck

You know what's fucker?

Snape is headmaster

“WHAT ABOUT MINNIE?”

“who the heck are the carrows?”

Going to the ministry after drinking polyjuice potion and morphing in your case.

"Magic is might"

Seeing 'Umbitch'

Harry stupefying umbitch.

Escaping the ministry before Yaxley gets hold of you.

Apparating to a mysterious place.

A forest apparently.

Ron's splinched.

Hermione's protection spells.

“How do you have time to learn all this stuff? Last time I checked we go to the same school,”

“Last time I checked you don't study a word.”

Taking turns in wearing the locket since you can't destroy it.

Feeling so cruel once it rests around your neck.

It's a part of voldemort's soul afterall.

Ron leaving three months later.

Crying your eyes out every night because you miss your best friend so much it hurts.

Same thing with Hermione.

“Why haven't you told him Mione?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you love him”

You give her a knowing look, she returns it with the faintest of smiles.

Going to Godric's Hollow.

Looking at the statue of Lily, James amd baby Harry with sadness and awe.

They were too young to die.

Too innocent to die.

You visit their grave.

You smiled because you suddenly felt their presence, two warm souls watching over you.

Bathilda Bagshot.

Fuck that's a snake.

Voldy is here and he was about to murder the three of you right before you apparated.

Fast forward when Ron returns.

You're so. bloody mad at him but can't help it and pull him into a hug.

“You're such an idiot, Ronald Billius Weasley.”

Hermione's so mad too but you know damn well she still loves him.

Ron and Harry telling the events of last night, first horcrux is destroyed, wohoo.

Visiting Xenophilious Lovegood.

The deathly hallows and the tale of the three brothers.

Luna's painting of you, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and her.

“She's so precious.” you think.

Xenophilious's betrayal.

Hermione wiping the fuck outta his memories.

fast forward a couple of days later.

listening to potterwatch. the norm.

lee jordan's voice

“Let's take a moment to report those deaths that the Wizarding Wireless Network  and Daily Prophet don't think important enough to mention. It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell.”

Feeling the worst heartache you've ever felt.

feeling as if every muscle, every cell in your body stopped functioning.

“No”

he can't die.

he was always okay. he can't just die.

he's expecting a grandchild. he can't just go.

The trio rushing to hug you.

Harry not able to meet your eyes.

“I'm so sorry” Hermione sobs into your neck.

You don't cry.

You can't cry.

You just sit there, feeling emptiness.

You suddenly get up, shoving everything in your way.

Ron holding you back.

"it's okay, I'm here” he reassures you.

You letting out a heart-wrenching scream that came out from god knows where.

Thank god Hermione has protection spells.

The trio tuck you into bed, making sure you were asleep.

You slept almost instantly, dreaming of your father who speaks to you.

“I'm always here, watching over you. Don't give up sweetheart, fight for your mom, dora, Remus and Cedric.”

“How'd you know about Cedric? ”

“I knew all along” he smiled

Waking up feeling slightly better the next day.

Fast forward when the snatches caught you.

Taken to Malfoy Manor

Bellatrix torturing you and craving "traitor" on your arm.

She also tries to slit your throat.

“You know? I want to murder you so badly, so you'd end up like your mudblood father, but I'll torture you, unril you beg for mercy.”

Literally screaming throughout the whole process.

“I know about Diggory, he's quite of a traitor, but his blood is pure, he won't want a filthy half-blood traitor like you with him.”

“SHUT UP, YOU DON'T KNOW HIM, SHUT U—”

being cut of with her dagger cutting your skin.

she moves on to Hermione next while you watch helplessly.

Dobby, Harry and Ron save you two.

Apparating to shell cottage.

You spot a small, weak figure in the distance.

You try reaching out for it, but you're too weak.

You loose consciousness in Ron's arms.

Next thing you knew you were in a room, Fleur watching over you.

Learning that Dobby's lost his life.

Feeling so weak.

Remus visits.

Little Teddy is born!!!

Can't help but feel so happy and hugging Remus, forgetting about all the drama.

Harry's Teddy's godfather.

yay

Gringotts

You hide under Harry's cloak.

You get caught.

Robbing Bellatrix's vault.

Getting the horcrux and giving griphook the sword.

Aaaaaand Griphook betrays you.

Escaping on a dragon.

Basically having to head to hogwarts.

To get the horcrux.

Hogsmeade at Abeforth Dumbledore.

Ariana Dumbledore's portrait.

NEVILLLEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Him looking terrible yet dashing at the same time.

From your conversation, you concluded that the carrows and Snape are absolute assholes.

Reuniting with all your friends!

Harry goes to Ravenclaw tower with Luna.

The order is here .

Cedric spots you.

He literally just picks you up and kisses you.

infront of everyone basically.

including the adults.

feeling sorta awkward but you don't care.

“YOU ESCAPED GRINGOTTS ON A DRAGON?!! DAMN IT LOVE HOW CRAZY CAN YOU GET?!!! ”

Harry interrupts your adorable moment.

Voldemort wants Harry.

“Potter's right here! someone grab him”

yeah of course, pugface parkinson.

literally everyone jumping in to defend Harry.

The battle has started.

You seeing Dora and running to hug her.

“MY BRAVE SISTER!” she shouts.

“Once we're outta here, we're spoiling Teddy with every inch of me.”

“I kinda approve though”

Duelling multiple death eaters.

Including Dolohov, Rookwood, Rabstan Lestrange.

Saving Malfoy's arse from the flames in the room of requirement.

Going to the shrieking shack to face Voldemort.

Snape's dead.

He's acting weird all of a sudden.

Voldemort wants Harry to meet him in the forbidden forest.

The chaos has calmed down.

You enter the great hall.

Your eyes roam around the room to find the redheads huddled together, the Diggorys, somewhat crying?

You take a closer look, seeing what they're all mourning.

You shake your head in disbelief.

Remus and Dora?

Your sister?

Your soulmate?

They just had a baby.

You felt Fred and George hug you, Hermione and Ginny hugging eachother.

You kneel down.

Your world is crushing.

They're dead but they look so peaceful.

You hugged Dora.

Ever so tightly.

The last time you'll ever hug her.

You wished you can turn the clock back, to listen to to weird sisters together, to giggle behind the Malfoys back together, to annoy your mother together.

Perhaps you could've been able to save her.

You rest your head on her chest.

Muffled voices of everyone else speaking were in the background.

But you didn't care.

You let out a cry, a small one.

You let out a slightly louder one.

You felt your chest tighten, your stomach churn, you felt your eyes twitch underneath your lids.

You heard Cedric's comforting voice.

“Shhhhhh.. I got you love”

But his words are not comforting you.

You just lay there on Dora's chest.

By that, you knew your hair will never turn pink again.

You don't know how many minutes or hours had passed by.

You heard the familiar snake-like vouce of Lord Voldemort.

“Harry Potter is dead He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together.”

You slightly lift your head.

The great hall was deadly silent.

You were sure he was lying.

You slowly walked up, holding hands with Ron and Hermione, exiting the great hall.

Voldemort and his army stood and your eyes spotted Hagrid.

He was carrying someone.

It was Harry.

Your body can't lift you anymore.

Mconagall let out a terrible scream followed by yours , Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Cedric's then everyone else.

Neville standing up to Voldemort.

He- he killed the snAKE??!!!

You just watchung Neville like a proud mom.

Cahos erupts once more.

Harry's gone?

No like seriously, he's just vanished.

poof

Spotting Cedric taking over three death eaters all at once.

Just being so proud of him.

You duelling Rodolphus Lestrange.

Took over him (as you should)

Moving to Bellatrix Lestrange.

Duelling her with Hermione, Luna and Ginny.

Bitch just aimed a killing curse at Ginny??!

About to make your move but-

“Not my daughter you bitch”

literally internally screaming because MOLLY WEASLEY DID NOT JUST CUSS???

Bellatrix's downfall.

Just felt a bit relaxed.

Voldemort is about to kill Molly but—

FUCK??

HARRY??

DID THIS MOTHERFUCKER TURN INTO A GHOST TO KILL VOLDEMORT?!!

Voldemort's downfall.

The man who everyone feared sayimg his name, just, fell down.

dead

Post-battle

You hug your mom so tight , she knew about everything.

You raising Teddy along with your mother and Harry.

You still have nightmares and trauma from the war.

But, Cedric was always there for you.

Not like he was any better, but you two comfort eachother.

Him placing soft, small kisses around your "traitor" scar after telling him about the Malfoy Manor events.

You, Harry, Ron amd Hermione gather at the burrow, just sitting there in comfortable silence, holding eachother.

Three years pass by and Cedric's on one knee, asking you to be his forever.

You frantically saying “Yes” before hugging him.

You were now an auror, just like Dora.

The wedding was so simple.

You had Hermione, Ginny and Luna as your bridesmaids.

Looking at the empty seats made especially for your father, Remus, Dora and Sirius.

Saying "I do" before leaning in and kissing him.

And for the first time in three years, your hair turned pink again.

[let-the-dream-begin]

“To Be Slowly Born”

Part 3 of the “Ships in the Night” universe

Read the rest on AO3

Murtagh had been right about her eyes.

Jamie, great, large man that he was, collapsed to his knees with a thud, never for a moment tearing his eyes away from her.

My child.

A baby girl with copper hair meets her father for the first time.

——

A baby girl with copper hair meets her father for the first time.

Murtagh stood in the quiet stillness of the L’Hopital graveyard, his teeth clenched painfully, his knuckles white at his sides, his eyes locked on the simple stone.

Claire Fraser

1715 - 1744

“She was…alone, then?”

“Not entirely, Monsieur,” the soothing tones of the one called Mother Hildegarde filled his ears. “We prayed over her daily, nightly. I myself hardly ever left her side.”

Murtagh nodded, his throat constricting any words he attempted.

“And she would not let go of the child,” she continued. “She held her in her arms until she could not any longer. She was…we were all worried the child would be lost.

“The boy was with her as well,” she said softly. “The one called Fergus. He brought her flowers.”

Christ.

Murtagh hadn’t thought it could sting any more, but then the thought of that wee lad holding her hand as she wasted away in front of him nearly had him gasping for air. He was a pesky wee thing, always finding some way to get under Murtagh’s skin. But the thought of him experiencing such horrors…

“Was he…there? When she…?”

“Non, Monsieur.”

Murtagh wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or another dagger to his chest.

“He was here, but he was asleep. It was the middle of the night,” Mother Hildegarde explained. “I was praying over her, she’d already been given her last rites, she and the child. She was growing weaker by the second. I knew she would be gone soon. But something strange happened…just before.”

“What’s that?”

“She was looking at the child, always, of course, but something…changed, suddenly. She seemed to come alive again…for the briefest moment I thought we had been granted a miracle.”

Murtagh looked up from the delicate lettering of her name for the first time since laying eyes on it, bushy brows furrowed together as he looked upon the old nun.

“How d’ye mean…?”

“The color returned to her cheeks, her eyes opened up and sparkled, and she smiled.” The woman’s eyes seemed to sparkle themselves, in quiet amazement at the brief miracle she’d witnessed. “She looked at the child as if it were her first time laying eyes on her, and said: ‘My God…it was her.’”

Murtagh felt all the more confused.

“Who was who…? What does it mean…?”

“I do not know, Monsieur, I wish I had the chance to ask her. Before I could, her eyes slid shut, and she leaned back, all her strength leaving her again. I heard the softest whisper, the last thing she ever said: ‘She’ll be alright.’” Her eyes held calm seas of sadness as she went on: “And then…she was gone.”

Murtagh sighed heavily, running a hand over his face, taking with it several lingering tears.

“She…is alright? The bairn?”

“Oui, Monsieur. That is a miracle that did last,” she confirmed. “Madame de La Tour came for her. She helped with the burial as well. She brought us the dress she is buried in.”

As if he’d forgotten, the reminder that she was indeed buried beneath his feet nearly had him crumbling to the ground.

“As far as I know, she is still in her care,” she went on. “As is the boy.”

“I…I thank ye, Mother. Ye’ve been…most kind.”

She nodded solemnly. “I will leave you now. My deepest sympathies. She was…a remarkable woman.”

“Aye,” Murtagh breathed hoarsely. “She was.”

He lowered himself to one knee in front of the short headstone, crossing himself and kissing his fingertips.

“Oh, lass…” he muttered, his shoulders trembling. “I ken I never said it, and I’ve no reason other than my being a damned fool…but I loved ye, Claire. Ye were my own lass, sure as Jamie is my own lad.”

Christ…Jamie…

How am I gonnae tell him…?

——

He didn’t believe him.

Rather, he refused to.

Murtagh told him in the carriage that was taking them directly from the Bastille to L’Hopital. All he said, or rather growled, was a terrifying:

“No.”

It wasn’t until Murtagh dragged him through the graveyard and practically shoved him in front of the stone that something finally registered. He fell to his knees at the sight of her name carved in stone, his eyes unblinking. His hands fisted the grass, his fingers drilling holes into the dirt, as if he could rip the ground apart and drag her back to him.

“Her last…” Jamie stuttered, his beard trembling fiercely. “Her last…moments. Tell me.”

Murtagh stood behind him, not touching him, calmly relaying everything the sisters had told him: Claire had spent every last conscious moment breathing life into their child, singing to her, feeding her. She didn’t let go of her until life was gone from her arms, and she passed with a smile on her face.

Jamie didn’t seem to be listening. He was dragging himself on all fours closer to the headstone until his knees touched it, and he began running his fingers over the lettering of her name.

“There’s something ye’re no’ saying.”

It made Murtagh jump.

“Tell me. Now.”

Murtagh swallowed thickly, knowing full well that what he’d deliberately left out should have stayed left out.

“The sisters said that she…she cried out to ye. In her fits and fevers.”

Murtagh may as well have plunged a dirk through his stomach; Jamie doubled over as if he had.

The great man trembled violently, bringing his forehead to rest on the cool marble of her headstone. He gripped the edges with white knuckles, the way he’d seen him grip the lass’s shoulders.

Oh, Jamie, lad…

And then he screamed.

——

After Murtagh had pulled some strings and granted some favors, the King had been quite gracious in allowing them a few weeks to get themselves together before the banishment from France was put into full effect. Time was running out, however, and there were several issues left unaddressed.

Murtagh had assumed that Fergus would be coming with them regardless; even before this whole ordeal he’d fully expected to find the lad bounding about Lallybroch when he returned from his now abandoned wine venture in Portugal.

None of that mattered now anyway.

Murtagh had already thought ahead of perhaps signing oaths of loyalty to the king of England, lest Prince Charles try anything foolish that would endanger Lallybroch or take Jamie away from his child.

To Hell with that blathering fool now.

But it would appear Jamie didn’t need to be given a reason to be away from his child.

The lad was a ghost, a shadow moving from room to room through Jared’s house. No one could blame him, of course. The Bastille had left him thin as a corpse, and it seemed to be getting worse since he’d gotten out, much to Suzette’s dismay.

Murtagh had fully expected the lad to demand to see his child much in the same way he’d demanded to see Claire’s body, her grave. He expected him to sleep on the floor of the nursery, or even never put her down at all.

But he didn’t even acknowledge that she existed.

Murtagh made it a point to spend time with the wee thing every day, which Suzette found endlessly endearing (not that either of them had the heart to pick up where they’d left off after everything, but there was still a tender fondness there). The more time he spent with the bairn, the more it gnawed at him that Jamie would not. Murtagh was already in love with the lass, had been since he’d laid eyes on her and seen the son and the daughter of his heart in her every feature. She was precious to him.

And every day that passed where Jamie would not appreciate the gift he’d been given, Murtagh saw more and more red.

Jamie was wallowing alone in his bedroom, pointedly not the same bedroom he’d once shared with his wife. The bairn was crying, and had Murtagh not heard the wet-nurse already scuttling to tend to her, he would’ve been up to the third floor two steps at a time himself.

And yet Jamie remained in his chair by the window, staring unblinking at specks of dust on the curtains.

“D’ye no’ hear her, lad?” Murtagh suddenly burst, unable to keep it in any longer. “Is that it?”

Jamie didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.

“Does it no’ bother ye even a bit to hear yer child cry and no’ even ken what she looks like?”

“Leave me be.”

“No, Jamie. I willna any longer. Enough is enough.”

Jamie abruptly stood up, every vein in his neck protruding, freshly shaved face red as a beet. “I said, leave me be.” His voice was gravelly, low and dangerous.

“Have ye gone daft?” Murtagh went on, regardless of the fact that Jamie was more than capable of killing him with his bare hands. “Have ye plain forgotten that ye’ve a daughter sleeping above yer head?”

Murtagh jabbed a finger upward at the ceiling to emphasize his point.

Jamie braced himself on the wall with one hand.

“What d’ye want, Jamie?” Murtagh said bluntly. “Ye’ve been home fer two weeks now and ye’ve avoided the nursery like the bloody plague.”

Jamie’s jaw was hard, his eyes unfocused, unblinking, staring at the floor.

“D’ye no’ wish to keep her?” Murtagh continued, his voice harsh and accusing. “D’ye wish tae leave her wi’ strangers, never to ken her father?”

Jamie’s face softened a bit at that, but he didn’t move. “Perhaps that’s best.”

“Ye canna be serious!” Murtagh shouted, his face redder than it had been in a long time. “Ye’d truly abandon yer flesh and blood? Claire’s flesh and blood?”

“Don’t.” Jamie finally turned, throwing his arm down from the wall, the vein under his eye straining against red skin. “Do not say her name.”

“What would she say, Jamie? To ken that ye’ve rejected the last thing she ever gave ye?”

“No! Enough!” Jamie roared, his hands clenching into tight fists.

“What is it? Can ye no’ bear that she’s the thing that killed her?” Murtagh dared a step closer, despite knowing it could end with his face bloodied. “D’ye curse the bairn fer taking yer wife away?”

Jamie’s face grew impossibly redder, one fist loosening to run his fingers through his hair, trembling like mad.

“Answer me, lad! D’ye accuse yer child of killing her?”

“No…God, no…”

Rather than the anger, the boiling, shouting rage Murtagh had expected, Jamie’s voice was cracked and small, as if the anger was swelling up in his throat and then dying on his lips.

“Then what, Jamie?” Murtagh pleaded, taking more steps toward him. “What is stopping ye from holding yer child?”

“I canna face her!” he suddenly exploded, fist slamming into the table at his side, knocking over the vase, landing in shattered pieces at his feet. “I canna look at her wee face and ken that I…I…”

“That you what, Jamie?”

“D’ye no’ see…? The bairn didna kill her…I did.”

Murtagh was taken aback, stunned into silence.

“I dinna deserve to hold her in my arms after I’ve taken her mother away!” Hot tears were streaming down his face. He was holding his hands uselessly in front of him in little cups, as if picturing what it would be like to hold her, and yet trembling, as if the thought horrified him.

“These hands…dinna deserve to touch that sweet wee thing…it’s my fault that she started bleeding in that field…”

“Jamie…”

“And then I wasna there!” He brought his shaking hands to claw at his face, as if to cover his tears, and yet unable to cease punishing himself. “She screamed…God…she screamed my name…and I couldna go to her…and they took me away…and she was all alone…” A sob tore through him, and he took a deep, shuddering, sputtering breath. “She brought my child into the world, and she died wi’out a comfort in the world…”

“She wasna alone, lad.”

“No one was even there to name the bairn!” He exploded again, fists colliding with the wood with a force so great that Murtagh thought the table itself would shatter. “Her own mother didna have the strength to do it, because of what I did to her, and her own father wasna there because…” His voice was getting thinner and thinner, as if he was running out of air in his lungs, until it finally only came out as a hiss.

“Jamie…ye couldnae known that they were in danger.” Murtagh chanced another step closer. He could reach out and touch him if he wanted, but he didn’t.

“Don’t ye see…?” Jamie hissed, his face itself trembling now like his hands. “I canna…I canna look at her, a goistidh…I failed her. I failed her all the months her mother carried her, I failed her the moment she came into the world, and I will keep failing her fer the rest of her puir life.” He ran out of air again, and Murtagh genuinely thought the lad would collapse.

“Claire is dead,” he said woodenly, as if to convince himself more than anything else. “She is gone, and she is never coming back. My child is motherless because I was a selfish, worthless fool.” More tears spilled out of his eyes as he closed them for a moment, breathing. “She deserves to be brought up by people that havena hurt her as I have. By people that…that didna kill her mother.”

Murtagh’s chest ached more fiercely than it had in years, perhaps for the first time since poor Ellen left this Earth. He’d never known such pain as losing her, until seeing the pain of her son losing the love of his life.

He had no words, nothing to say that would convince Jamie to let go of his guilt. There was no denying that perhaps if the lass had gotten help sooner instead of rushing to the duel, things may have been different. No matter how he worded any rebuttal he tried, it would not ease the lad. She was gone, and he would feel that loss for the rest of his life.

But the child was not gone. And Murtagh would be damned if he let her be lost to him as well.

Only one thing came to mind to say:

“She has her eyes, Jamie.”

The lad staggered back like he’d been delivered a blow to the gut, his eyes shutting in pain.

“The color is exactly the same. Couldna tell the difference if ye looked at just her wee eyes.”

Jamie exhaled sharply, bracing himself on the table.

“What…what else…?” he stammered, eyes still closed.

“She’s started smiling.” Despite his sorrow, Murtagh’s chest warmed at the thought of her sweet wee smile. “Sweetest thing ye’ve ever seen. Does it in her sleep, as well.”

Jamie’s face screwed up, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

“She has ears that poke out just the smallest bit. Tiny wee things.”

Jamie finally opened his eyes, swimming with turmoil and hurt.

“She’s beautiful, lad.” Murtagh didn’t expect the tightness in his own voice, but he couldn't say he was surprised. “Fergus, the wee gomeril, is quite attached.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, thinking. “If ye leave her behind, ye’d have to leave the lad, as well. He willna be parted from her.”

Jamie remained unchanged, lost in thought.

“Will ye leave wi’out saying goodbye to the lad? He’s grown quite fond of ye.”

Still silent.

“And the bairn,” he proceeded with caution. “Ye ought to bid her farewell as well. If no’ fer yer own sake, then fer Claire’s.” He waited for a reaction, for the anger he’d been met with the first time he said her name, but it didn’t come.

“I dinna begrudge ye wanting to leave her after what’s happened,” Murtagh said, despite how the very marrow of his bone argued against it. “But ye ought to respect yer wife’s memory. Just the same as ye bid farewell to her grave, ye ought to bid farewell to the only living piece of her left. That’s all.”

Jamie remained silent for a long time.

“Aye,” he said finally. “I’ll say goodbye. Fer…” His voice failed him for a moment, as if he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Fer Claire.”

He hadn’t said no, nor had he acknowledged that once he’d seen her, he’d never be able to leave her. Which Murtagh knew to be true.

Apparently the lad’s resolve was not as strong as he’d like to think.

Murtagh hesitantly closed the rest of the space between them and put his arm around Jamie’s shoulders. “Come on, a bhalaich.”

——

Jamie had listened when Murtagh spoke of the bairn. He’d heard well enough about her eyes, her smile.

But, God, words could never compare.

He’d opened the door to see Fergus sitting on the rug in the center of the room, waving a rattle over the squirmy little thing laying there.

Fergus looked up, freezing immediately in shock. His blue eyes got impossibly wider.

“Milord?”

Jamie could not speak.

Christ, look at that hair…

The squirmy little thing made a grunt of disapproval, apparently missing the rattle that Fergus had let fall limp at his side.

“Go on, Jamie,” Murtagh whispered.

Jamie could not move.

“It is alright, Milord,” Fergus said softly, sitting back on his heels. “She is healthy now.” He scooped her up and cradled her like it was the most natural thing in the world. “See?”

Oh…My God…

Murtagh had been right about her eyes.

Jamie, great, large man that he was, collapsed to his knees with a thud, never for a moment tearing his eyes away from her.

My child.

“Bernadette taught me how to hold her,” Fergus said proudly. Bernadette was the wet-nurse Suzette had sent for when she’d learned that Claire was not coming home with the baby.

“Do you want me to show you?”

The wee thing shoved a little fist in her mouth, and Fergus laughed, bouncing her a little.

Still unable to speak, Jamie just nodded.

Fergus stood up carefully, holding her close as he got to his feet. He slowly crossed the room to where Jamie knelt, nearly as tall on his knees as the lad’s full height.

“You must mind her head, Bernadette says,” Fergus recited as he transferred her weight into Jamie’s arms. “In the…the creux de ton coude.”

As the weight of her downy soft head settled into the crook of his elbow, Jamie’s entire world shifted.

Lord…Oh, Christ…

She was staring up at him with those eyes, her eyes, wide and curious. Her wee fist wasn’t in her mouth anymore; instead, her lips were parted in a sweet ‘o’ shape, as if she were gaping at him.

He stared back at her, hardly breathing, unblinking. Christ, she was so tiny. He had never held a living thing so tiny in his life. So tiny, so beautiful, and so his.

And hers.

Unprompted, her lips curved into a gummy smile.

Jamie fell apart.

His entire body wracked with guttural sobs, his mighty frame trembling as he fought to keep his arms steady, to keep her steady. He found himself rocking back and forth, as if by instinct.

He could easily cradle her with one arm, so he did, and he used his free hand to sculpt the lines of her squishy face, to wrap her beautiful red curls around his fingers, to stroke soothing patterns on her impossibly tiny cheeks.

“Oh…mo chridhe…” he croaked, stroking her hair. “My bonny wee lass…” He sniffled pathetically. “I’m…I’m sorry, m’annsachd…Christ, I’m so, verra sorry…” He took great, shuddering, heaving breaths as he lifted her closer to his face. “Ye’re sae beautiful, a leannan…A Dhiah…” He pressed his trembling lips to her little forehead. She was so warm, her skin so soft, and she smelled like Heaven.

He hadn’t realized until just then, but Murtagh and the lad had long since gone, and he was alone with his daughter.

“I’ll never let ye go again, mo chridhe. Never, ever again.” He buried his nose in her curls, inhaling her sweet scent. “You are blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I’ll no’ be parted from ye. My sweet little lass…”

She cooed, reaching up to attach her little hands to his wild curls, curls that matched her own. Somehow, despite the jagged, sharp pain cutting through his chest, he laughed. It sounded more like a snuffling grunt, but the giddiness he felt was unmistakable.

“D’ye like yer Da’s hair, then?” he said softly, pressing his head down further so she could reach better. God, she could pull each strand out from the root, and he’d let her if it would bring her joy. She gurgled and tugged gently, not strong enough yet to hurt him.

“Ye hear that, lass? I’m…I’m yer Da.” His voice choked up again. “Aye, that’s right. I’m yer Da, and I will protect ye, always. I will never, never let anything happen to ye. I swear it on my life.”

She grew tired of his hair and moved on to grabbing at his cheeks, which made his eyes water fiercely.

“Aye…I’m here, m’annsachd. I’m no’ going anywhere, ever again. I’m…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed. “I’m sorry I didna protect yer Ma. I swore an oath before God to protect her…and I failed. But I will not fail you. Aye, I already have by no’ protecting yer mother…but, by God, I’ll spend the rest of my life making up fer it.” He stroked the back of one of her hands with his pinky, overwhelmed by just how tiny her wee fingers were.

“I’ll no’ fail ye again,” he said solemnly, looking into her honey eyes.

“Oh, Claire…” He started weeping again, pressing the wee thing into his chest. “Oh, mo ghraidh…Angel that ye are…you are my gift that keeps giving.” He could feel the little weight getting heavier with sleep, so he leaned against the wall and laid her on his chest, watching in complete amazement as she nuzzled into his sark.

“Thank ye…fer her.” He laid his head into the wall, craning his neck and looking upward. “Forgive me, Claire, I’m…I’m a coward. I’m sae weak wi’out ye,” he said helplessly, tasting his own tears. “I will be strong fer her, I swear it. She’ll no doubt have yer strength, mo ghraidh. Maybe she can make me strong again, as you did.” He silenced himself for a moment, hearing for the first time the sound of his daughter’s snores, her deep, sleepy breaths.

“I dinna deserve her, I ken that. Like I didna deserve you. And she deserves better than me. But she deserves to know you, her mother.” He swallowed thickly again. “So she will. She will know ye, and she will love ye. And she’ll know how ye loved her. How ye still do.”

He sighed, feeling his tears leak down his temples and into his hair. “I will never stop trying to be worthy of yer daughter, Claire.”

The wee girl in question whimpered and smushed her face into his chest, turning her head to lay the other cheek on him in her sleep. His heart felt like it would either burst out of his chest or break into a million jagged fragments. He pressed a fervent kiss to the crown of her head.

“Our wee Faith.”

[renee-writer]

An Invisible Thread Chapter 21 Mr. and Mrs. Fraser

She stands before the full length mirror, a bride. On pure white, lace, silk, and taffeta. Jenny had found it in a shop in Inverness. Everyone had done their jobs well and now it is finally the day. She will be Claire Fraser soon. Making official something that has been a fact for quite awhile now.

 

“You are so beautiful.” Her mum says. The tears she can’t hold back drip down her face. Thank God for waterproof make-up.

 

“Thank you mum. I can’t believe this day is finally here.”

 

“Finally?” a laugh as she takes a seat at the vanity table in the Laird’s room that is being used as a bride’s room. It will be a wedding night room also, a fact that makes Claire flush with embarrassment and anticipation.

 

“I have loved Jamie since I was two and knew I would marry him since I was eleven and we shared a first kiss. So, yes finally.”

 

“I can’t argue with that. Mary and Willy have the baby ready. He is so precious. Not,” she adds, “that I wish you making me a grandma anytime soon.”

 

“I have been on the pill for a month now. We are good.” Her eyes drift to the bed and she flushes again.

 

“That type of pre-planning is very responsible. You two are so young but, the responsibility you are showing makes me think the others are right. That you are ready for this.”

 

“We are truly.”

 

“For all of it?” Again she flushes. She wants him and badly. But the actual act, especially the first time, well, it was a bit intimating.

 

“I am a bit concerned about tonight.  We have been good. Not done that. Things but..”

 

Her mum smiles. They thought so, her and Ellen, but to have it confirmed. Now to help her daughter. “Claire, the stuff you two have done, did it feel pleasurable?” Her flush deepened. She nods. “Brilliant. Tonight do a lot of what you have been doing then move on to other things, eventually coming to together. You will know when it is time. It will sting a bit, but, if you find pleasure before, it won’t be to bad. Also, urinate before and after. Trust me. You don’t want a honeymoon bladder infection.”

 

“Ah, thanks mum.” She takes a seat on the edge of the bed. Her dad will be here within minutes. They will follow Geillis and Willy, and Mary carrying William down as a ring bearer.  Her mum will push the wheelchair as Claire holds her dad’s hand. A bit unconventional but a way for both her parents to walk her down the aisle.

 

“Oh my beautiful daughter.” Henry calls out when he wheels himself in a few minutes later.

 

“Isn’t she exquisite?” Julia replies.

 

“She is.”

 

“All ready dad?”

 

“Yes. Your procession is all lined up. William is so bloody cute in his tiny kilt.”

 

“Brilliant. And Jamie?”

 

“Well, I can’t tell you what he is wearing but you will soon see. He awaits you.” She lets out her breath and stands, soothing her gown out. Her mum adds the veil and they step out.  They head to the lift that the Fraser’s had added for Henry and head downstairs.  Her bridal party waits at the door that leads to the back garden.

 

“You are a vision Claire. My brother is a blessed man.” Willy comments.

 

“As you and Mary. William is the cutest baby I have ever seen.”

 

“Thank you Claire and for including him in the ceremony.” Mary softly says.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“Ready hen?” Geillis asks. She nods before replying.

 

“Very. I have been for years.”

 

The music starts. The Wedding Song( Where there is Love) and her heart speeds up as Mary and William step out. She smiles at the sounds of awe from their guests at the sight of the baby. Geillis squeezes her hand before threading her arm through Willy’s and stepping out next.

 

Claire takes a deep breath and takes her dad’s hand. The music swells at the lyrics, “a man shall leave his mother and a woman leave her home”. Their cue. Julia takes her husband’s chair and they step out.  A trellis covered with flowers cover them as they walk down the aisle. It is beautiful but all Claire sees is her groom.

 

Her Fire Jamie is a Highland Viking Warrior, with his kilt, high boots, sword and dirk, linen white shirt, tartan held over his shoulder with a broach engraved with the family motto. He is magnificent.  By the look on his face, he thinks the same about her.

 

They move slowly, to slowly, as the music continues. “A woman draws her life from man and gives it back to him. And there is love.”  A few more steps and they are in front of Jamie.

 

The music stops and the priest smiles at them. “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

 

She hears her dad utter ‘woman?’ under his breath before he answers, “Her mum and I do.” He then takes the hand he still tightly holds and places it in Jamie’s.  Julia wheels him back towards the chairs and she is his. Her soon-to-be husband’s. It is a bittersweet moment.

 

She smiles at him as his warm hands enclose over hers. “I love you.” She mouths as the good father begins to tell their guests why they are gathered together.

 

“I love you.” He mouths back.

 

“Now the couple have vows they wish to pledge to each other.” He says after they have said the traditional ones. “Claire.”

 

“From the time I was your Curly Care,” a twitter of laughter runs through their guests. She, focused on him, talking only to him, continues, “I knew there was a bond between us, even if at two I was unable to express it. Being away from you was like being away from family. Finding you again at ten was coming home. I knew then we were more then mates. With our first kiss, I knew we were heading here. Jamie, you have been my second home, my soulmate, and now you will be my husband. I love you more then words can say and will as long as our souls exist.”

 

The laughter was now soft sobs as Jamie tells her, “So Fire Jamie and Curly Care finally made it here. I knew it too, as soon as I so you that day 16 years ago. I was inconsolable when my Curly Care wasn’t there at kindergarten. But, even then, I knew, knew, that someway, somehow we would come back together.  That the bond wouldn’t be broken. So, I was awed but not surprised when you returned. I did vow I wouldn’t lose you again. Now you stand here pledging to be mine forever and it is as it should be. As it was fated to be. Te agam ort, Claire. Forever.”

 

There isn’t a dry eye among their guests as they exchange rings. As Brian binds their wrist for the older part of the ceremony.

 

“You are blood of my blood and bone of bone. I give you my body so us two may be one. I give you my spirit until our life’s be done.” They pledge.

 

“May I present Mr. and Mrs. Faster. Kiss you two.” They do, tasting each other’s tears as their family and friends cheer.  He lifts her up and carries her back down the aisle to the laughter and cheers of the others.

 

The cake is perfect for them as the side, on each layer, shows a couple from weans until their wedding day, growing up and growing closer. Their story.  They carefully cut into it and feed each other. They dance, together and with her dad and his mam. They are toasted and feed. Claire throws her bouquet which Geillis catches. Jamie her garter, after removing it with a blush. He tosses it to Angus. Pictures are taken.

 

“We are leaving,” Jamie announces after a few hours. “You guys are welcome to stay as long as you like. Thank you for all you have done for Claire and I. We love you guys.”  

 

He takes her hand and they head to the house. Bird seed and bubbles follow after them.

[quiver-full-of-sims]

[AN: This is gonna be a long post, because I have tons of pictures. Sorry about that! Also, Callie Gilliland is wearing PANTS (!!) for some of the pictures, and I didn’t notice until it was over, so just use your imagination and pretend she’s being appropriately modest! As a final note, what do you think of this writing style? I’m planning to do a mix of 3rd-person and blog posts, is that okay?] 

No Rest for the Rowans

HEY FRIENDS! I’m writing this tonight as a MOMMY OF TWO!!! 😊😊😊 Yes you heard that right. I have been SO BLESSED this week!!!! I’ll GET BACK to the “mommy of two” thing later, but for now let me talk about my baby shower/gender reveal!

On Monday I had a joint baby shower/gender-reveal with 3 other SWEET LADIES who were also expecting, at our church, Willow Creek Holy Baptist! I am so glad I got to share this PRECIOUS MOMENT with them! We all brought a dish- I made a big dish of DELICIOUS SPAGHETTI CASSEROLE!!!! It’s just so important to eat healthily- there’s lot of VITAMINS in that tomato sauce! 😊

We had a great time with these AMAZING FAMILIES. We each revealed the gender of our LITTLE MIRACLE BLESSINGS. (more on that later!) And then we got together to take some BEAUTIFUL photos! 😊😊😊😊😊😊

This one is of me and my SWEET friends who were also expecting. From left to right there’s me, Lana Dreamer, Kristin Denning, and Desirae Scott

This one is of me and the truly SPECIAL women in my “Ladies Lunch” club. Sitting on the table from left to right is Kristin Denning, then me, then Lana Dreamer and on the bench from left to right there’s Callie Gilliland, Adalee Hoover (the PASTOR’s wife!) and Desirae Scott.

(L-R: Me, Brooke Gilliland, Lana Dreamer) Here we are talking to little Brooke about the JOYS of WOMANHOOD

(DIrk Dreamer and my SWEET HUSBAND talking about BUSINESS) Above are a couple photos from this GREAT event 

Here’s a couple photos that Charlotte Hoover (PASTOR and Mrs. LEONEL HOOVER’S daughter) took! She definitely has a GIFT from the LORD! I absolutely LOVE how these turned out- we’re SO BLESSED!!1!1! 😊😊😊😊😊😊

(L-R standing: Dawson Dreamer, Dirk & Lana Dreamer, Carson Hoover, PASTOR Leonel Hoover, Caden Hoover, Adalee Hoover, Me, Henry Bob, Alex, Desirae & Travis Scott, David Denning, Kristin & Jordon Denning, Abby Denning) 

(L-R sitting: Charlotte and Cayla Hoover, Casen Hoover, Tessa Gilliland, Brooke Gilliland, Zachary Gilliland, Callie & Peyton Gilliland, and Thomas Gilliland standing in the front)

And finally here’s a picture of everyone! Charlotte set up the camera timer and everything- she has SUCH a SERVANT’S HEART!!!!! I hope my little GIRL has that kind of JOYFUL COUNTENANCE too! 😊😊😊

Yes, a helpmeet- you heard me right!!!! I gave BIRTH to our PRECIOUS HELPMEET Isabella Marie Rowan a few days after the baby shower!! (We’re planning on calling her IZZIE- isn’t that just PRECIOUS??) 😊😊 I’ll be glad when she AGES UP into a toddler- I’ll be TRAINING her to help me with chores from A YOUNG AGE. 😊😊😊😊

Henry Bob had to watch Alex for a while while I had the baby in the other room- he wasn’t happy at all but it’s not like he had a CHOICE!!!! I apologized to him IMMEDIATELY after birth however- he WAS right, men SHOULD NOT have to do the role the Lord designed for WOMEN!!! That’s two out of two births he’s MISSED but it’s not THAT big of a deal. 😊

Alex wasn’t so happy too, but I reminded him that mommy and daddy NEED to have lots and LOTS of children to PLEASE the LORD. I also told him that God would be VERY angry with him if he has BAD THOUGHTS about baby Izzie, and I sent him to his room without dinner to REPENT for his SINS! (Remember, EVEN TODDLERS can go to HELL!!)

That’s enough for today, I’ve said QUITE A BIT!! We’re planning on getting some more portraits done with the NEW MIRACLE. I just LOVE Charlotte Hoover’s photography, and she does them for FREE (!!) because Henry Bob helped out her father Pastor LEONEL HOOVER with FINANCES at a discounted rate!! (After all, he is the PASTOR!)

BE BLESSED!!

~Kaylie 😊

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-04-13

Happy 4/13 upd8!  Glimpsed part of the title when I was checking but otherwise blind.

Time to liveblog this quickly and pile into RevScarecrow’s first-readthrough stream of Cascade.  It REALLY hurts to see him tortured having to read through long conversations with dyslexia, but at least he gets to draw purer enjoyment out of the huge flashes.

EDIT:  Added an important clarification from a friend to the bottom, regarding the tail end of the upd8.

Well here we go.  Whose daughter?  Candy Vrissy as Rose/Kanaya’s?  Or some weirder metaphorical Roxy/RoboRose thing.

> CHAPTER 8. A Daughter Astray

Huh, not where I thought we’d start a chapter named like that.  We can’t leave Candy so soon after cutting to it though.

JANE: Assassinations, open warfare, so-called "revolution," and where has everyone gone? JANE: They've ABANDONED me. They've taken our precious son. And now...

Are we going to see some of the beginnings of John’s plan in action, from her perspective?

> (==>)

Steven King novels???  Like an IT joke?  Sure, I guess?

DIRK: Itadakimasu.

I mean he would.  Especially the Jake-imagined version of him.

JANE: "An eye for an eye." JANE: Once we have rescued our son from their clutches, I'm going to take something of my own; something as valuable to the rebellion as Tavvy is to me. JANE: Two can play at the hostage game. That loathsome daughter of theirs should fit the bill nicely.

Okay.  That’s certainly a plan, I guess.

Wow, she really runs everything by the seat of her pants, doesn’t she.

(She seems less murderous than usual now that the spotlight of HS^2 is on her instead of Epilogue darkness, though, all things considered.  Walking back some of the negativity of the Epilogues in general.  That’s the impression I get anyway.)

> (Kids: Converse.)

Vriska, come on.

--Oh!  Oh and there’s:

That middle photo!  Harry, Roxy, and Calliope hanging out, yes!  Glad to see Candy Roxy and Callie were definitely not as distant as they appeared throughout the Epilogues when we were being convinced everything was going out-of-character as a Meat!Callie-written fanfic instead of what Roxy would plausibly actually do.  (Which... it kinda was, so they need to soften the blow by showing not everything was ruined by the way it was written.)

((And there are lots of cats everywhere, but this is outside Harry’s room so it’s all Roxy, no classpect.))

HARRY ANDERSON: so... HARRY ANDERSON: um. vriska? VRISKA: The one and o........ VRISKA: (Ughhhhhhhh) VRISKA: I mean, yeah. That's me!!!!!!!!

It’s hard to get enough of Vriska’s irritation with her reduced relevance.

VRISKA: From now on your name is just Harry. HARRY: o... k?

Dick move, but I have to thank you for shortening his chat handle there.

HARRY: but um, yeah. john and roxy are my parents.

Yeah, deal with that, Vriska.  Nice job wooing John.  :)

Aaaand then Harry’s Egbert genes kick in and he starts going off on a tangent describing a piece of media he likes with a situation barely mappable onto this one.

HARRY: ok, so have you ever seen the musical calamity jane? HARRY: i guess you probably haven't. HARRY: but so there's this part at the beginning, where the title character comes back from chicago, and she talks to all of the old-timey locals about how bizarre and new-fangled everything was, and VRISKA: Godddddddd it really is like talking to teenage John all over again. VRISKA: No I haven't seen Chastity Jane or whatever the stupid title was. It sounds like a total snooze!!!!!!!!

Calamity Jane and Chastity Jane.  Probably means nothing.

VRISKA: And anyway, what are you trying to say? VRISKA: That I sound outd8ed?

HA.  Now you’re a boomer!  Eat that Vriska.

HARRY: i mean, we've done stage fighting before, but never the real stuff. HARRY: but i bet i could learn. i took kickboxing with my mom for a month and half when i was nine.

Yaaay Roxy-style martial ar-- oh wait only a month and a half, huh?

We’ll have to see if he’s really as inexperienced and kinda-thinking-too-well-of-himself as he looks, or if this is all just a joke setup for when he proves to be pretty combat capable later.

VRISKA: He totally freaked out the first time I told him I killed some8ody. HARRY: haha, that sounds like my dad.

Harry and Vrissy look clearer together by the minute, dynamic-ways.

But now he's not so sure. Ever since hearing that one of his dad's old friends had turned up, that border between past and present has felt fainter by the minute. And as they talk, he begins to think that Vriska seems so much... fresher. More real. An actual, authentic, bona fide god from another universe. Harry can’t imagine his dad even talking to someone like her, let alone punching her in the face.

Freaking out about murder, though; that's definitely something Harry can see his father doing.

Kind of like a fresh breath of relevance, huh?  I mean Vriska had to carry a little in with her.

HARRY: i'm not allowed ONE vriska in my bedroom. HARRY: i don't even want to THINK about how much trouble i'll be in if she finds out i had TWO of them up there.

PFFFF.

And Roxy grew up the kind of mom to set those limits, huh?  Nice.  She’s definitely proving a less lonely and inscrutable mom than she was to Rose.  (And Rose had the additional disadvantages of Horrorterror- and Gamzee-induced fear- and certainty-amplification to help drive her to believe her mother hated her, on TOP of all of Mom’s glaring flaws/abuses vis-a-vis drunken responsibility-aversion.)

HARRY: of course i am freaking out vriska! HARRY: i'm freaking out what i think is probably a good amount about this. the fashionable amount of freaking out.

I’m starting to really take a liking to this asshole.

HARRY: he's going to absolutely flip his fucking lid if he ever finds out about this!! HARRY: or worse, it might just make him as miserable as before, and he'll be really disappointed in me, and then he'll just leave again, or... or SOMETHING!!

Auugh.  God damnit, Past!John, raising him to believe this.  Luckily, Current!John will most likely disabuse him of the notion at least SOMEWHAT by the end of this story.

BECAUSE JELLICLES CAN AND JEEEEEEELLICLES DO JELLICLES DO AND JELLICLES CAN JELLICLES CAN AND JEEEEEELLICLES HARRY: oh fuck.

Why is he hiding the CATS poster in his room, but has a whole ringtone set up with it?  Either a global one or a John-specific one?

Is it John-specific because he has to outwardly play it cool about how much he loves and needs his dad, just like Cats?

VRISSY: Check it out, someone's already cospl8ying my fit from tod8y.

Oh nice!  Inborn popularity at work.

VRISSY: Good? It's Infuri8ing!!!!!!!! VRISSY: UGH! So many f8ke accounts pretending to 8e me. Stealing my hard-earned Clout. Fakey f8ke F8KES.

Mhmm, why give up any attention?  She wouldn’t want to share it.

VRISSY: Damn Right it's import8nt Tavros! Image is a8out as Important as it gets.

(classpect blah blah)

VRISSY: Relax Tavvy. VRISSY: You're starting to Sweat Nervously. You know I H8te it when you Swe8t Nervously. TAVROS: Thank you,, VRISSY: Th8t wasn't a Fucking H8mance Complim8nt, I do genuinely Hate it and not in a Fun Way. TAVROS: Oh,, TAVROS: I'm,, sorry,,,, VRISSY: Ugh. Whatever. VRISSY: I'm just... 8eing a 8itch. Forget about it.

Look how INCREDIBLY much more mature Vrissy is right here than Vriska ever was.

And Vrissy’s understandably a lot more worried than we are about Vriska moving in on Harry.  Even though with Vriska’s experience she would hardly be likely to see anything in him to--

Oh.  Fuck, what am I saying.  Of COURSE Vriska would be tempted to move in if it meant stealing attention from Vrissy.  I keep forgetting this is ORIGINAL VRISKA we’re talking about.  That’s got to be a conflict at some point, right?

TAVROS: I know you don't like to talk about these kinds of things,, TAVROS: Having said, on previous occasions, stuff like,, TAVROS: "Feelings are for adults and babies, not real people," TAVROS: And i'm not,, necessarily, saying that you have some unaddressed feelings, TAVROS: But,, maybe if we're going to be around her, TAVROS: You should try to be honest, about the feelings, that you don't have,,

Nailed it like a true Tavros.

VRISSY: It's Something about the W8y she Looks at him. VRISSY: The Rest of us too. VRISSY: Like we're not even Real.

That’s right.  Making it important that you be extra careful that she doesn’t hurt you, because she’ll undoubtably or neglectfully TRY.

VRISSY: And to 8e Honest, I think I Understand why! VRISSY: Everything Here is so dwee8ish and 8oring!!!!!!!!

A little more complicated than that, Vrissy.

TAVROS: Because you're worried harry anderson thinks she's cooler than you,, TAVROS: Because you're jealous,,,, VRISSY: W8. VRISSY: What? VRISSY: No! VRISSY: Tavros, were you Listening to 8NYTHING I was Just Saying? VRISSY: I'm not worried a8out Harry Fucking 8nderson right now! VRISSY: Hell, I'm so Unconcerned that I think I'm going to start just calling him Harry from now on! It'll Save Everyone a lot of Valua8le Time! VRISSY: Listen Tavros, Vriska will get 8ored of Harry in a Heart8eat! VRISSY: That's the whole point!!!!!!!! VRISSY: She shouldn't 8e w8sting her Time on someone like Him! VRISSY: SHE SHOULD BE T8LKING T8 ME!!!!!!!!

Hm, jealous of the attention Vriska’s giving Harry, not the other way around.  Huh!

And here come the Crocker cops...

> (Harry: Pick up.)

Wait, I don’t understand this picture.  Who are those two silhouettes outside?  Isn’t this Roxy’s house?  (Is that Jake facing away on the left? Them being already here would be pretty good reason for alarm.)

HARRY: ok everyone, my dad's calling. HARRY: if he finds out you're here then he will definitely put two and two together, so PLEASE just keep quiet and let me do the talking.

Is John going to play along?  That could be fun.

Hm.  If Harry hasn’t turned off his phone’s signal, then that could be a way Jane can find and use him to find Vrissy.  (Or already have.)

HARRY: er, HARRY: hi dad. VRISKA: HI JOHN!!!!!!!! VRISSY: Hi Mister Eg8ert!!!!!!!!! HARRY: oh god dammit.

THEIR NEED FOR ATTENTION BYPASSES ALL SURVIVAL INSTINCT.

JOHN: HELLO SON! JOHN: I AM JOHN: SO JOHN: VERY JOHN: PROUD OF YOU!!!!!!!! HARRY: JOHN: PHEW, that felt good to say. JOHN: or to yell, i guess. heheh. JOHN: sorry about that, harry anderson. JOHN: i just didn't think i'd be seeing your handiwork all over the news quite so soon!

Yeah, John really needs to take a page or two out of his Dad’s playbook right now!  Because Harry really fucking doubts that his father is proud of him, and John’s Dad would never have let him come under such a misconception.

JOHN: it looks like you tried to pull one of the biggest pranks i can think of. JOHN: and it backfired! HARRY: y... yeah. JOHN: but that's ok!!! JOHN: it could have happened to the best of us. JOHN: ok, so maybe it wasn't the most original idea. JOHN: and you should probably have steered clear of such a blatant nod to weekend at bernie's without seriously planning some of the logistics in advance.

John, please stop so aggressively framing this in terms of YOUR interests.

JOHN: heh. two vriskas is NOTHING. JOHN: when i was your age i lost count of all the vriskas i had to keep track of. JOHN: it was probably some preposterous number.

¬_¬”

JOHN: now, harry anderson, i know that you and tavros haven't always gotten along. JOHN: but i am going to have to ask you to try and look out for him for the time being.

Harry could really use some reassurance from YOU you know?  That you’re working to make sure he’ll be okay through all this?

JOHN: your uncle jake and i... well, i'll explain later. JOHN: let's just say that gamzee isn't the only family member jane is losing today. HARRY: dad... if you wanted me to KILL tavros, you only had to ask. TAVROS: (Um,,,) HARRY: couldn't resist.

What?  Moved for custody in the divorce?

I feel like the divorce is SOMEHOW involved in whatever John is referring to here.  Even though the Epilogues say that Jane initiated it.  Maybe we’ll find out later that in the cut from then to now, Jane apologized a bit and didn’t go through with it, but he still had the papers to finalize it, or?  No, that doesn’t quite add up with what Jake was afraid of before... hm.

> (==>)

Oh, the paparazzi.  THAT’S a problem.

JOHN: the word "fuck" was invented for moments like this.

Nothing to comment on, just had to quote it.

JOHN: some guidelines that any budding prankster or newly fledged fugitive should know. JOHN: don't panic, JOHN: don't make a scene, JOHN: and whatever you do... JOHN: don't get caught!!

This is a reference to something, right?

> (High above the clouds...)

Jesus, that’s a visual. Hi, probably-the-only-source-of-happiness-between-Kanaya-and-Rose-we-might-have-onscreen-up-until-the-very-end.  (Are those cat chairs, or just headrests with lil horns?)

As the world seethes with the acid sting of war, they have stood steadfast and resolute; when hope has seemed at its most distant, they have shone as a beacon of possibility.

Further cementing Hope’s ties to possibility, then.

Individually, they each represent immeasurable gains for the rebel faction. The rebellion's stratagems have never had a fiercer bite; their uniforms have never looked so fucking sharp.

Why you gotta do Kanaya like that, narrative?

> (==>)

Full glow?  Kanaya must be nervous.

(I don’t think this short hair on Rose quite does the justice that short hair on her should.  I suppose it’s punk to match her clothes, though.  Still, I feel like short hair should look SO GOOD on Rose and the style chosen just doesn’t here.)

ROSE: I just wish I had answers!! My useless powers aren't being any help, and what's worse, ROSE: I can't see ANYTHING useful on this stupid news channel!!

I can imagine that a Seer of Light might find it harder to operate in a realm long void of most of its relevance, not to mention whatever measure of strength she gave up to concede herself into the “specific” and not ult-self manifest... but there are two Thieves of Light involved here and no Void players, beyond this being at Roxy’s house.  Are they really stealing that much visibility from the situation to not blaze like beacons in Rose’s vision?

ALFONZ: excuse me mA'Ams

I don’t know how to feel about this troll’s name or quirk.

Kanaya’s ending every sentence with a shout pole, by the way.

> (==>)

ALFONZ: the reconnAissAnce teAm is bAck eArly, mA'Ams ALFONZ: the ship docked A few moments Ago ROSE: And the scouting party??? ALFONZ: i expect she's Zipping her wAy up here now, mA'Am

Karkat and Meenah?  That’s just a singular “she”-- ah fuck it’s Jade isn’t it.  The Jade here who had Dave ditch her suddenly to become a robot and abscond without telling her.  That’s why there was so much talk about Jade in the background today, dammit.  Please still be generally not despairing???

> (==>)

What is that bulky suit?????  Is it seven layers of sweaters?  Was she scouting the arctic??

> (==>)

Angry camo?

> (==>)

KANAYA: Jade It Is Okay JADE: its........ JADE: *sniffle* KANAYA: Please Take Your Time JADE: we dont HAVE any time!!! JADE: its too late!!!!!! JADE: janes forces were just too fast... KANAYA: Oh No ROSE: You don't mean... JADE: theyve taken her

Jade, you aren’t talking about Vrissy.  Who the fuck ARE you talking about?  Is this gonna be a punchline again?

> (==>)

JADE: THEYVE TAKEN YIFFY!!!!!!! D:

Okay, I’m hoping for the best but there’s precedent that this is Jade in full fucking despair mode right now.  Having named pets like that and being this concerned about them.

Then again, if Dave and Jade had a pet they WOULD name it that wouldn’t they.

> (==>)

Sigh.

Well, let’s hope it’s mostly sunshine and rainbows on Jade’s front, unlike what it looks like?

That can be a caption for HS^2 going into the next two thirds of 2020 like this.  “Let’s hope it’s mostly sunshine and rainbows.”  Catch y’all another time.

EDIT:  Oh fucking MAN, it might not be a pet after all.  Quoting Discord:

[REDACTED] Today at 5:20 PM there’s a reason Rose knows but Kanaya wouldn’t possibly and look back at the chapter title BlastYoBoots Today at 5:21 PM I'll... correct that possibility. Did NOT realize it could have been a pet name for Dave instead of a pet. wait, what? no, they'd never have named a daughter that, Dave is NOT that cruel. (unless it could be nickname-shortened to that, that's just enough plausible deniability for Dave to hide behind.) [REDACTED] Today at 5:22 PM If it were a pet name for Dave, why would they use she/her in reference to him? JANE: Two can play at the hostage game. That loathsome daughter of theirs should fit the bill nicely. BlastYoBoots Today at 5:22 PM oh, and you're implying that the surrogate daughter thing happened with Jade and Rose-- [REDACTED] Today at 5:22 PM yes BlastYoBoots Today at 5:22 PM OH, and that they meant like, not Vrissy? [REDACTED] Today at 5:23 PM perhaps BlastYoBoots Today at 5:23 PM Why would Rose NOT tell Kanaya about her then? or is Kanaya just not interested in keeping up to date? [REDACTED] Today at 5:23 PM unless the yiffy ruse is a distaction BlastYoBoots Today at 5:23 PM it would be a pretty spectacular thing to spring on us though, a child the epilogues didn't mention, so...

SO, this could be a cheeky pet name for their daughter, who we’ve never met and Jane just legitimately planned to kidnap in front of us.  Making Davebot’s abandonment of this timeline all the more dickish, essential as it might be.  On the upside, new interesting HS^2-original characters that have nothing explicitly to do with the epilogues!  (Beyond Jade hinting at how a surrogate child would be conceived possibly!)  Plus another reason for Jade to steel herself and buck up about Dave not being there, to take care of her daughter, possibly.  On the downside... Robo!Dave is going to be a little infuriating.  Maybe to make him a little more palatable to miss if he goes down doing anything dramatic.

((EDIT2: "ROSE: Where is John? KANAYA: Where Is Dave" --ah FUCK, I missed that line. So if Kanaya's asking that, Dave probably only just vanished... I really was hoping she wouldn't have to deal with that onscreen.))

[fangirl-screaming]

A, C, and K :0c???

Thank you so much for the ask anon!!! 💕

A) Ships that you currently like a lot.

Ok these are going to be only the romantic ones in my recent fandoms because if I include all the family/platonic ships, it would've been a long, long list.

I absolutely adore Catradora, Glimbow, Seamista, Scorfuma and Entrapdak from She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. (The gays were strong on this show and I'm loving it 🏳️‍🌈!!)

I'd literally die for Rayllum, Janaya, Ezran/Aanya and Ruthari from The Dragon Prince 💕.

Lukivia, Axlivia, Je(ss)tra, Jesskas/Lukesse, Luktra, Olitra, Harpvor and Magnugaard from Minecraft: Story Mode are just 👌👌👌👌

Troy/Benson from Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, give it up for my two boys!!

Airspeed, Garycato and Ash Graven/Little Cato from Final Space, my precious babies 😟

Even though I've distanced myself from this fandom a bit, I really like Kidge, Plance, Hidge, Klance, Shadam and Lotura from Voltron: Legendary Defender.

Kataang, Sukka, Zutara and Maiko from Avatar: The Last Airbender! I love themmm 💓

Jlaire, Toby/Darci, Dromura, Staja, Kreli and Señor Uhl/Miss Janeth, Stricklake and Varvatos/Nana Domzalski from the collective series Tales of Arcadia! I'm really excited (and hella scared) about what Wizards will bring us.

These are a bit smaller ships, but I'm starting to ship Miko/Five from Glitch Techs; June/Jack and Dirk/Quint from The Last Kids on Earth!

C) A ship you never liked and you probably never will.

Violet Baudelaire/Count Olaf from A Series of Unfortunate Events. Don't come at me.

(For the record, the age of consent in Turkey is 18 and I'm going to build my arguments on this. I'm not "hating" on the ship, I can't stop you and I won't hate if you like this ship, I'm just stating why I find it problematic. Alright? I don't want unnecessary hate or drama. Also, I read the books but I didn't watch the TV show, so I'm going off with what I remember from the books.)

(Also, spoilers.)

Starting off, Violet is 14 (she ages and is 16 at the end of the series but it doesn't change anything in my eyes) while Count Olaf is at least 35 (his hair has whites and all). Usually I don't have a problem with age gap relationships if both ends are over the age of consent and the want of relationship (is that how you say it??? English isn't my first language I'm sorry) is reciprocated by both ends. I don't think the "relationship should be reciprocated by both dudes" box is checked because 1- Count Olaf only wants to marry Violet because of the family's fortune and 2- yeah have I talked about how this guy forced Violet to marry him and he almost succeeded? And now Olaf's literally stalking the Baudelaire siblings, changing into different personalities in order to get his hands on the fortune?

That doesn't exactly spark a "healthy relationship feeling" in me.

Again, I will neither stop you nor hate on you if you like this ship or if you make content about this ship. I'm not hating on it either. I'm just stating why I don't like it.

K) What character has the best/your favorite development arc?

This has to literally be the hardest question on this list 😂

Um, I could be incredibly basic and say "Zuko's redemption arc" which is one of my favorites, but I have wayyyy many more than that. Here are a few:

Usagi's arc throughout Sailor Moon, my god she gets one HELL of a glowup!! From an annoying crybaby to the BAMF we know as the reincarnation of Princess Serenity. Holy crap sis you slay!!!

Catra's redemption. Just... AAAAAAAA!!! It's amazing!!!

Wolf's development from Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts. I'm just so happy to see her finally be able to let her guard down and have such good friends after so long! We know she deserves it. She's amazing.

Freaking 👏 Olivia 👏 from 👏 Minecraft: Story Mode. Like s1 ep 1- she's super anxious and she overthinks a lot (which honestly, SAME). S1 ep5- bRO she kicks ass and she kicks that ass with SASS. I love her with all my heart.

Jim Lake Jr. I love how he went from "screw this I didn't ask for this bs!" to "y'know what I didn't ask for this bs but here we are!". It really shows how much he has grown and how he starts to accept what has already been done instead of denying it and he tries to accustom his life around the given circumstances. I forgot how many times I yelled "JIM I LOVE YOU" to my tablet screen as I was binging Trollhunters tbh.

I'm sorry if this is a bit too long, but here are your answers anon!! Thank you so so much for asking!!! 💕

[dahniwitchoflight]

Candy 37-End

Vriska isn’t wrong when she’s picturing Earth C’s Sky as being like Skaia, where you see in the cloud’s of the sky what is real and canon, which is exactly what’s happening here in this Sky of Earth C, because everything, even the visions in the clouds, are being bent unconsciously to John’s will.

If John were a much more selfish person, willing to take and enjoy everything he ever wanted, this would be a paradise to him, thank god he’s not though, but still sucks to be him

Love the infinite character loop that is the character arc of “Vriska” that she just can’t seem to escape btw

“Asshole teenager does horrible things in the name of role model who she thinks is cool but is actually terrible and another version of herself from another life and its only once she falls into her own bullshit does she realize life could have been different, been better”

Maybe this would all be different if all these Baby Vriska’s didn’t choose asshole versions of themselves as a role model like some kind of terrible self fulfilling prophecy

I don’t messaging Terezi is gonna work, pretty sure she’s dead, but Vriska doesn’t know that, she skipped right past the latest conversation and went to the top didn’t she? yup

Good to see that, from Roxy’s point of view, she didn’t just stop existing, she did just naturally swerve into the kind of person John would like, but from John’s point of view and what he knows, it did make her feel like some kind of ingenuine puppet. Sad to see that once again, she just wanted John to be happy, but her attempts, since they were coming from her, would just be futile in his eyes due to the context of the situation they found themselves in

But hilariously ironic if it was literally just the normal relationship troubles of becoming estranged from him because he was becoming estranged from her because he stopped treating her like a real person because he felt like she wasn't real

when from your own perspective, yourself is always real. From Roxy’s perspective, she could be real while no one else isn’t, it kind of a side effect of reality feeling like it’s being warped, everything gets dilated and stretched to kind of orbit around only your own perspective and you get disconnected to everything else

and of course, you can’t help but think, is Roxy only acting real NOW because John and thus the narrative finally really wants her to be? It’s a circumstantial question without an answer, it really depends on which perspective is being written from and who you ask

but still, the one factor no one can really account for is the house juju, while they are all god tier players with ultimate selves, John has retcon power, and that IS an advantage over everyone else’s wills, whether anyone likes it or is aware of it or not

it just happens that due to John’s non interference policy as much as possible, the changes were more subtle and thus no matter how warped, it was “well written” is the only way to explain it

so even if Roxy is a puppet or a real person, she is indistinguishable from either one

But can’t forget that Skaia is not entirely neutral either, it contains an author with a narrative and an opinion, who may be doing his best to remove himself just like John but did it is still one version of events over others, Hussie himself

that’s the real seemingly inescapable canon that makes things feel right or wrong or real or fake, whatever Hussie thinks is so

and maybe because Hussie was their original creators, some part of their cores will always be tugged back to his vision in some way, that piece of narrative influence that gives an unfair sway to one thing over another

Just like the what the cursor does to John

like Roxy is 100% accurate in what she’s saying in Candy too, IF everything was equal in it’s influence, if Skaia was a pool of everyone’s wills and not the will of just one man doing his best to not be that

Once again, the biggest problem in the story is the plothole of the cursor, but that’s one Hussie can’t be the one to solve or else the problem of influence just continues on in his own work

So it makes sense to do what he’s done so far and give the reigns over in ways to others, have other people write the epilogues, have other people in the hand of creation for things like hiveswap and pesterquest

and yknow of course fandom and audience, but things that come from the audience won’t ever be real and canon, like fanfiction won’t solve this problem either, no one would ever really accept that

it has to be a scenario where the originator entrusts decisions to other people aka Hussie hires an official team to do something and then they take the reigns from there

WhatPumpkin, maybe without Hussie, has to be the one to solve the plothole of the cursor to everything to feel truly “right”

maybe not do everything themselves obviously, but that problem has to be solved by someone who isn’t Hussie, that’s what I feel

That’s what I think, that feels acceptable and satisfying to me

mood whiplash incoming:

OBAMA?? oh my god damn fucking fuck

this is how he shows up in the epilogues, goddammit

I’ll be honest, while this is hilarious as a joke, it’s actually very derailing to the narrative

It feels like something that should be happening in sweet bro and hella jeff, not Homestuck

Like I enjoy it, but I know it’s wrong here, not supposed to be happening

This is absolutely a test for the audience, basically a dare, how much are we willing to accept as “Canon”? outright challenging us to change the narrative now

because if we justify changing this, we can justify changing other things, and then that basically opens the floodgates

That’s honestly probably what a lot of the content in these epilogues was meant to be, each thing presenting more and more of a challenge to swallow as real, how much can we take before we decided enough is enough and start making it different?

I actually hit that a while ago with nearly every implied sexual escapade of Gamzee’s none of them are things I want to be in Homestuck proper straight up I can think of no good sexual relationship Gamzee has ever had in the history of Homestuck

I actually don’t like where this is going though, like it was shock but now it’s getting weird vibes

The fated place of this planet is to be a cherub nest for the big bad (and also Calliope)

Why is Obama so concerned about the fate of where it’s meant to end up at? Nowhere good is the answer. And also his speech is starting to sound vaguely Dirk like or at least Dirk justifying and I don’t like how it’s taking all of Dave’s attention like he’s getting a sudden pump of that Dirk withdrawal.

“OBAMA: Haven’t you been improved by the knowledge of what you grew up to be in my time? Can you really say you’d be what you are today without the memory of him?”

Which “Him”? because if you say Dirk I don’t trust like that

 All of this is such a lampshade though about the whole idea of the narrative, that’s so glaringly clear.

Obama was found by Adventuring Grandpa Jake as a kid??? I mean, sure, why not, I guess all of humanity is related to Jake technically just like the rest of the god tiers

Oh wow their just straight up making Obama another “Kid of Jake” story like Jade and Joey, “lonely kid lives on island, distantly related to an old man version of Jake English, turns out the Island holds some secret that unlocks the key to more knowledge.”

Also there making it pretty clear that the rest of the Earth Kids DO have SOME power to influence reality, since John wouldn’t think of this, I really don’t think he would, it’s just that when John is involved his everything outweighs everything

Even now it goes back to the shades John gave him over and over.

“OBAMA: I think Dirk would be proud if he could see how you turned out.

OBAMA: In fact, I know it.“

I DON’T TRUST LIKE THAT I DON’T TRUST LIKE THAT

I’m also really actually uncomfortable with how far this joke is going, like, Obama is a real person outside of homestuck, putting all this shit into his mouth just feels really in bad taste, like it’s taking the joke of how much Dave ironically likes Obama way waaay too far

“OBAMA: Believing is the key to understanding the truth underlying the words, the truth underlying the ideas they represent, and the truth underlying who we are as individuals.

OBAMA: The power of belief, the power of Hope, that’s what endows that which is intangible, ephemeral, or uncertain with a sense of reality.

OBAMA: It brings focus to the insubstantial, the mirages of the mind, the multiplicity of what is possible, of what could be, and isolates it—concentrates it—to turn it into that which is.OBAMA: And the result of that, Dave, is what we call truth.“

This is neat though, basically confirming Hope as a power of Reality has a direct ties to Canonical Truth

“The only thing he knows is he needs to listen carefully to every precious syllable. To listen with his ears, his heart, his entire being.“

Is the Ultimate Self of Dirk actually just extending to like, every person who potentially holds his DNA now??? Like, as one of the ecto progenitors of Mankind itself like how Grandpa Adventure Jake was implying??

Because that’s a terrifying thought

or maybe not, this Obama IS a constructed hologram, I forgot, pull back the reigns, Dirk could have easily constructed a robo-holo version of himself to look and act a fake story of Obama just for Dave’s sake

that makes more sense

“OBAMA: He taught me about many things. Combat, philosophy, life, love... “

Yup there is no way this isn’t some version of Dirk like a strange Obama-fied autoresponder

Okay, bad taste jokes aside about using Obama as a literary device going a bit to far

Dirk using that phrase as like, it seems to be confirmation that Dirk feels a need to “train” his romantic partners and people around him to be the people he wants them to be, servants for him and that’s so gross

“ The sliding panel reveals a recess, and in the recess stands a robot. It’s a gleaming, polished silver replica of Dave, but without shades. It stands totally still, unpowered. Dave struggles to make sense of what he’s looking at. “

IT’S A TRAP DON’T GO INTO THE ROBOT BODY THAT NEVER WORKS OUT FOR ANYONE.

IT IS *LITERALLY* CONSTRUCTING A VERSION OF ANOTHER PERSON TO WHATEVER IT IS YOU WANT THEM TO BE.

God, you never really get just how control freak and obsessive it is to literally want to remake every single cell of a person and program them obsessively so that they do whatever it is that you want while also seeming indistinguishable from themselves, perfectly programmed and perfectly written

I say this not without missing the irony that doing that is exactly what Hussie wants all of us to do as well, and even I think things could be better written but that’s still hubris too isn’t it?

Calling it a choice for Dave even now rings so entirely hollow, because Dave is being written here like he would never choose anything else, so really when did he ever have a choice?

The fact that Obama seems to actually have hope powers and the way that his backstory included that note about he was related to a version of Jake English though more just makes me think Dirk’s Ultimate self got a hold of Jake’s as well, and this holobama is more just Jake English twisted incomprehensibly into another being by Dirk Strider

"Dave’s eyes widen, his mouth opens as if to scream, but he doesn’t make a sound. Infinite experience flows through his consciousness, an unimpeded torrent of raw potentiality. He sees everything. The roads not taken, the lives not lived, the thoughts, desires, fears all unacted upon. The Doomed Daves, the Davesprites, the Davepetas, life with Jade, life with Karkat, life with both, life with neither. It’s like soaring through the clouds at supersonic speed, too quickly to make out the shape of any single puffy nimbus, like a breakneck jaunt through Skaia. Huge clouds rushing by, small ones, clouds with visions, empty clouds, white clouds, then a great dark one. And then, the briefest possible glimpses—most too fleeting to be noticed—of Dirk. “

You know I just realized something too, In it’s own Messed up Way, I can see how Dirk think’s what he’s doing might be good too

if the natural conclusion I came to is that all the characters themselves need to take a swill of that house cursor thing to all be on equal footing and decide together how they want the story to be

Dirk may think he’s technically doing the same thing by unlocking everyone’s ultimate selves and merging them into his

because then it is technically every version of all of his friends all making a decision together, not just his friends, all the aspects of reality itself

except their all strapped to his will and only his will

theyre not making decisions together, theyre making decisions together for Dirk how Dirk wants is to be

they all have to have equal footing and they all can’t decide how each other’s lives are going to be

If they all get canon imbibing power and want to remake homestuck, they have to only be able to only affect their own lives, nothing more, or we get this problem

and well, Dirk just got Dave’s Ultimate self now

“JADE: as it happens, this projection within me serves as a stable conceptual foothold from which i can sense and resist another growing threat which is determined to jeopardize the canonical plane of reality.”

So again if it hasn’t already been confirmed before, Dirk doesn’t want to uphold Homestuck’s “Canon” he wants to upend it for his own purposes.

Neither Meat or Candy is Canon, but both are affecting it.

Oh cool, Alltie is actually going into with Aradia how the narrative can be condensed in such a way that they can then be applied loosely in multiple different ways, just like how I was talking about before with how Vriska’s arc seems to loop around

haha I wonder if I can do the same thing

“A brat admires an asshole, becomes one, and regrets it.”

wait I can do better

“A brat imitates an asshole and regrets it.”

that was actually a neat little exercise in how entirely strip something of all of it’s context in order to broadly apply it to multiple scenarios. Stripping the cloth in order to create a narrative thread. 

“It’s a feather, burnt at the edges, flickering orange and green.”

Oh Ultimate Dirk’s definitely eaten Ultimate Jake

“JADE: consume his body.

JADE: absorb his essence.

JADE: and then using this host, i will generate enough power to move beyond the staggering pull of the event horizon encasing this world.

JADE: a prison of my own making, which can be escaped only through the supreme unification with my other half.

JADE: it is crucial to the cosmos that i succeed.

JADE: the prince of heart has to be stopped.“

Ah, Okay, now I understand that ending part of Meat, that was actually the end of Candy, so now I assume the ending of Meat is gonna happen here on the next page?

Also, Alltie, I dunno if merging with LE is exactly the thing you want to be doing here, unless you think you can win the battle of wills on the ultimate self scale, absorbing Dirk into you instead?

You probably can, I mean, even if Dirk is an especially manipulative human given godlike power to manifest his reality and put his will over countless other only humans so far

You are a Cherub who has a specific biological advantage on this field over overturning wills and you also have godlike cosmic power

Is that why our Callie is so afraid of you? Because your soul and will and ultimate self is just as much of an all consuming black hole as what you physically became? If she gets too close she’ll stop being her, pulled in by your inescapable will?

Alright, so this is Meat PostScript technically

Now I kinda wanna deconstruct the label of Post Script here though

If “Intermission” actually means “oops the story got to long, here’s a break.” but actually continues on with it’s own story not actually providing a break from long winded scripts but instead fighting with it for space and attention

If “Epilogue” actually means “oops, forgot some story, here’s some more.” not actually being an ending chapter but a tell of more to come, a bridge between stories

Does “Post Script” it’s its meaning of “After Story” an addition, a sequel coming after the original story

actually just mean “oops, I wrote the wrong story, here’s a different one”?

after all, a sequel to a story, is actually just writing a different story altogether, but one still related to the original

and why write a different story if the one you already wrote was enough?

so you think a sequel is going to be a sequel, because of the name, a different story, happening after the first, like were leaving what happened in Homestuck behind us

but in actuality it’s the same story, told in a different better way

I’m still harping on that Homestuck 2.0 is just gonna be the story of Homestuck but written differently this time, top to bottom front to end nice and neat using one elegant stroke the whole way through

Anyway one sec while I quickly reread the last actual chapter of meat before I read this postcript because I want it be fresh in my mind

Okay Dirk’s leaving at lightspeed in a spaceship with Rose and the rest of the gang are being directed by essentially a geiger counter/shield for Dirk’s presence in Jade’s body

Oh right, now I’m remembering bloody Jade tearing into flesh (LE’s flesh I guess) while Aradia watches and then her and Robot Dave and Aradia all rocket into that gaping hole, so I guess Robo-Dave might not be all that Dirk influenced? Or that Dirk sent him specifically to keep tabs on Alltie, subtly, they didn’t exactly greet eachother or interact at all or wait for him, so they don’t seem totally allied. 

Then following Dirk’s spaceship:

It looks like a shark? Interesting

Considering Void a great Ocean, Shark is fitting a predator of that Ocean

Like how the end of Meat had someone tearing into Meat viciously

and now the end of Candy has someone daintily mowing down on a bowl of Candy, very sour candy it seems

Rose doesn’t seem to happy in a robo-body. It’s pretty clear she’s struggling to hold on to any sort of humanity or normalcy, which is interesting, if she’s so unhappy and doesn’t consider herself Dirk’s servant, why is she still with him?

So something important is needed for her flesh body, something that will have something to do with canon I suppose. Tiara imagery never bodes well, so I’m guessing it’s not just moving her consciousness over its probably also controlling it somehow

It sure makes princess imagery ominous anyway, Rose is a right sleeping beauty, or maybe a snow white if the glass coffin is anything to go by.

Oh, theyre intentionally creating a new session of Sburb?

“New Race” so maybe not humans, trolls or cherubs? Interesting, still could be new human race though

Gotta love how it ends on a dismissive tone from Dirk lol

So, is Rose all in on the idea of starting up a new session for some purpose?

and what does her flesh body have to do with it?

The only thing I can think of is that it’s meant to be a vessel for something, and right now the only person using flesh vessels on Dirk’s radar is Alltie

Do they mean to trap her in Rose’s body for some reason? and through that control her in some way?

I can’t help but think of Callie’s word again, that this is not a purple rose, but a red rose dyed blue, Alltie is certainly Red, and in Rose she’d be a “Red Rose” like how currently in Jade she makes a “Red Jade”

Dying her Blue, using Candy to control her then? Her one weakness was basically her eternal reverence for the CandyPop which if Alltie ever took part of would be the one time she’d basically lose control and think there was no problem with anything, putting her into her own drugged haze of not caring, basically the only thing you could do to stop her if you wanted to

As for this new session of SBURB, I can only guess that it’s importance lies as their attempt to rewrite their own story top to bottom starting from Humanity as a whole, only this time it’s Dirk writing everything not Hussie

So Dirk really is doing the Doc Scratch thing like with Alternia

Again, he thinks he’s doing the right thing, but he’s just totally wrong about it

That’s it then for the “Epilogues” it was a good read!

Can’t wait for the “Sequel” :)

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Beauty Chooses Part II

On AO3

Ch-1  Ch-2  Ch-3  

Chapter 4 The MacKenzie Calls

Hearing the voices of many men downstairs I quickly got up to dress and left Faith with Glavia while I went to investigate. There were men all over the lower level and my heart started pounding with this intrusion. I pushed through them to the kitchen where misses Crooke was pressed against the counter while men searched the cabinets.

“What do you think you’re doing! Misses Crooke come with me please.”

The man in the cabinets was Angus, I remembered from our wedding. I assumed all these men were with the MacKenzie clan. They sort of gathered around me looking quite menacing if I didn’t know better.

“What is it you men want? Sorry, it’s lovely to see all of you again, now what do you want?”

“Colum wants to see Jamie, mistress, so we’ve come to get him and bring him back.”

“Do you always use so many men to deliver a message?” I remembered this man as well, Rupert. He held my hand when I felt ill at my wedding.

“No a message, mistress, we’re takin Jamie back with us. Where might we find him?”

“I imagine he is out in the fields, let me think, sorry gentlemen I don’t remember but he is on the property. They started to move to the outside and I counted twenty-five in all. The door was open for so long the cool April air filled the lower house so I was shaking from the cold. Maybe I was shaking from the dreadful foreboding I felt from the visit. If Jamie was leaving Lallybroch to speak with Colum I wanted to get Faith ready to say goodbye.

I opened the door to the nursery and found misses Crooke and Glavia standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the cradle. With wide eyes, they looked behind me, for a monster by the look of them.

“What on earth are you two doing?”

When they didn’t speak I figured it out. They were expecting to be invaded by bad men and were standing in front of Faith to protect her.

“It’s alright ladies, I promise. They look worse then they are but they are friends to Lallybroch.”

I gently moved them aside and scooped Faith out of the cradle kissing her cheeks and smiling at her precious yawning face. I bundled her up for a trip outside in the fresh air and walked out to find Jamie. He wasn’t hard to find surrounded by so many men. Even now he was commanding and showed no fear of the twenty-five swords and dirks that surrounded him. Jamie turned toward the house when one of the men grabbed him only to be knocked to the ground savagely by Jamie. I could see his face suddenly and felt alarmed.

“Sassenach, come, get into the house.”

Glavia took Faith and Jamie led me into our room. He was moving very fast, putting heavier clothing on and better boots.

“I have to go and speak with Colum. I hate to leave ye but I must. I will be home tomorrow night and I’m leavin Murtagh here to watch over ye.”

“What is this about?”

“Jacobites.” he spat the word out and looked murderous doing it. “They are gathering the clans together to fight for Prince Charles. I expect they want my commitment to bring my men. He pulled me to his embrace and I held him so tightly.

“Are you going to lead your men to battle Jamie?”

“No. I stand by my promise not to participate in this blood bath they’re walkin into.”

“I love ye Sassenach. If ye need anythin Murtagh will be right here.” He kissed me like he wanted me to remember it forever and then left.

I forced myself to get busy and not dissolve into frantic tears. That would not help anybody. Today we will gather all the items in the house that have value to Jamie, sentimental or monetary and bury them in the priest hole, tomorrow I will get Murtagh to ride with me to the gorge and look for one bright blue rock. The mere thought of taking this family into the future was preposterous and I should concentrate on passage to America but it would be nice to have a backup, just in case.

We gathered all the silver objects in the house and put them on the large dining table. Anything that had been handed down through the generations was placed on the table. Murtagh set to work deepening the priest hole and long after dark we packed our treasure deep in the earth.

“Ye ken what’s comin and its a bad thing for Scotland, am I right?”

“Yes, Murtagh.”

“How bad? Red coats patrollin and causin trouble for the farmers and tenants? What else?”

“Murtagh, please don’t make me answer you. Jamie promised we would be leaving for the new world before the uprising and I believe him. Can we leave it at that?

Murtagh stopped walking and stared at the ground.

“Nae lass, I think we’ll be talkin about what er makes Jamie turn his back on Lallybroch.”

We sat near the fire and moved our chairs close together so as not to be overheard. I explained everything I knew about the Jacobite preparation and the ultimate conflict on Culloden Moor. Then I told him about disbanding of the clans and making kilts, bagpipes, the Gaelic language, clan tartans and owning weapons illegal by order of the king. Highlanders that joined the uprising are executed and their lands turned over to the crown.

Murtagh stared straight at the fire while I talked. When he looked at me I could see the pain and anger in his eyes. He stood up and banked the fire and said goodnight. My breasts were painfully engorged with milk by that time so I ran for the assistance of my sweet Faith to help ease my discomfort.

Later I laid Faith on my bed sound asleep and a belly full of milk. I blocked her in with pillows and fell asleep beside her.

The following day I asked Murtagh to take me to the gorge, well, where ever things land that are thrown into the gorge. We mounted and rode for maybe an hour when he pointed straight ahead and then up to where Jamie would have been standing when he threw the blue rock. I tied my horse and ran through the rubble looking as quickly as possible while I dodged Murtagh’s questions. I was bitterly disappointed at not finding a single shard of blue and vowed to come back another day alone. Most of the ride home we were silent.

“So what’s to become of Jenny when we leave for America?”

“I have asked Jamie many times to check on Jenny and Ian but he still refuses. If I can’t change his mind I imagine we will leave them behind. I won’t stop trying Murtagh, I promise.”

The day dragged on and on and I became more agitated with every passing hour. Where was Jamie? The men he left with were like his brothers they say and I have no reason to fear them in his regard but he should have been back by now. At ten o’clock I fed my smiling daughter and again laid her in my bed. Sleep would not take me so I turned the lamp up just enough to see her face and I slowly calmed down and slept.

Jamie made his way home after a full day of arguing with the clansmen of Leoch who wanted to fight and agreeing with Colum who stood firm on neutrality. It was cold and damp tonight, conditions that were comfortable and reassuring to him. The crisp night made the stars twinkle above him in absolute silence. It was good thinking weather so he made his way slowly and thought about his options.

If the Highlanders took up arms to fight for the freedom of Scotland how could he turn his back on defending the land he loves. He wanted to work with his men and prepare them to survive but how could he on a ship bound for America. He was the Laird of Lallybroch and a warrior. Deep inside he wanted to fight and win by crushing those who oppressed Scotland and especially the Highlanders. If Sassenach was right, many of the Highlanders will die, along with their way of life. If he survived the battle he would be hunted as a traitor to the crown and his family subject to the harsh justice of the British.

His beautiful Sassenach made full disclosure of what lies ahead and still, he committed her to a century that was not her own. He was bound to her by love and now by promise to see her safe with their daughter. He wanted to spill English blood on Culloden Moor but love was by far more powerful. His baby daughter had opened up a whole new level of love that added so much depth to his existence. Faith had the power to drop him mid-stride with gurgles, or bubbles, or a smile. It was not a decision to be made, whether or not to fight for Scotland. The love he had for his family eclipsed everything. He nudged Donus into a lope wanting desperately to hold his wife and forget the rest.

Jamie pitched hay into Donus’s stall and grain in his feeder. “Yer a good lad Donus.”

He made his way through the house and up the stairs without making a sound. When he looked down at Claire, Faith had wrapped her fingers around her mothers pinky and both were lost to their dreams. He felt the tears well up in his eyes because of this beautiful sight and all he had to lose with the coming war. He was desperately tired and slid into bed behind Claire as quietly as possible.

Jamie tossed and turned for the rest of the night. He wanted to bury himself in his wife and feel her grip him. He pushed back on his need because Faith was in their bed but he could not stand the throbbing in his groin. Jamie touched Claire’s leg and the feel of her skin helped him calm down. He reached between her legs and touched her making her squirm against him. He continued his light assault of her skin until she was breathing audibly and he would drag her to the floor if he had to. All stop….

Faith was feeling her empty tummy and started making her little noises. The first warning to adults it was time to act fast or pay the price of a punishing volume. Claire pulled the baby to her lap and leaned against the headboard as Jamie’s hand caressed her inner thigh. He watched Faith suck at her breast and surrendered to the pull of his arousal.

Claire felt the warm wet tongue touch her most sensitive skin where the nerve endings were already screaming to be touched. She forced herself to remain still as he pressed his tongue into her and moaned. Claire moved Faith to the other side as Jamie’s fingers and tongue made his intention clear. As soon as Faith closed her eyes she shot out of bed and put her down in her cradle where Glavia slept peacefully beside her.

Claire jogged back to their room pulling her rail off and jumped on Jamie kissing him with the intensity of her love and her need. She could not get close enough to him and held his face to hers for kisses that were sustenance to the starving. She felt the length of him push into her body and he pressed her knees open and watched her face as he pushed into her again and again.

“Come for me Sassenach.”

Jamie ground into her core and kissed her deeply until he heard her moan low and slow, the signal of her surrender to the bliss. He fought his need to crash into her and kept his pace slow enjoying every second of this delight. When Claire opened her eyes and touched his cheek he fell in love all over again.

“I love you so.”

He laid in her arms panting and wiping sweat off of his face. He would forever be astounded by the power she had over him. How a statement of love whispered so quietly could make him shatter and grip her for dear life. He would not question his decision. The arms that held him were stronger than the entire British army. He would prepare to depart for America in the coming months and leave his homeland forever. 

There were many demands placed on the mistress of Lallybroch and Claire’s proficiency in planning, executing, greeting, and helping the tenants made Jamie very proud. The months flew by and there was a loving peace that descended over their home that reminded Jamie of his childhood.

Many times she would try to discuss Jenny, Ian, and their son but her stubborn husband would not engage in the conversation and Claire was desperate for word of them. When Murtagh went into Edinburgh to sell grain Claire asked him to find Jenny and make sure they were safe. When he returned his scowl would have scared a blind man to death. She learned they lived in a single room above the tavern she worked in. Ian cared for the baby during Jenny’s twelve-hour shifts. They both looked pale and soulless, hollow eyes, expressionless faces.

Claire’s heart broke for Jenny. The next time Murtagh went into town she took as much money as she dared from Jamie’s desk and gave it to Murtagh asking him to give it to Jenny. She didn’t much like the look on his face and brushed it off in her need to help them.Claire continued to take money from Jamie’s desk when Murtagh was heading into town. She just didn’t think about it, about her betrayal. Murtagh’s request for her to stop fell on deaf ears and she would include notes to Jenny but never received a reply. She couldn’t stop, even if Jenny refused to write her back, she couldn’t stop.

One Saturday afternoon Jamie asked Claire to meet him in the study. She noticed Murtagh sitting in front of the fire and thought it odd with the warm temperatures outside. She was walking into an inquisition where she would be tried and found guilty and did not even know it.

“Sit mo chridhe.” Jamie stood up from behind his desk and walked behind her chair to lock the doors. No one would enter, no one would exit until he said so.

Claire sensed the heavy energy in the room and although Jamie was using his terms of endearment she heard them as empty words. Jamie was being diplomatic, as he was with tenants before he ruled against them charging fines and other penalties to restore what was lost in the wrongdoing. Claire figured this out very quickly. He discovered the missing money and would find her guilty of conspiring against him. She lifted her chin in defiance and waited.

Jamie stared at his beautiful wife and watched the color drain from her face. She knew what this was about and was posturing defiantly. He could not let this go, the offense was too great, so he would make her miserable in any way he could short of physically striking her. He took a deep breath.

“There is money missing from my bank Sasenach. Do ye ken about it?”

She didn’t move or speak and he watched her with a pinch of respect she didn’t try to lie to him.

“Sassenach?”

“What?”

“Do ye ken where the missin money is?”

Again, no answer, just defiance. She was forcing him to lay out his evidence and accuse her before she committed to anything. Very smart, he thought, but still a tiring game. So be it.

“Sassenach, I believe you stole money from me and to what end I cannot imagine. It matters not in the eyes of the law and ye will be jailed for thieving. I wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself before the bars on yer cell slam shut and you are lost to yer family.”

Claire was a monument of strength as she listened to her husband. To look at him would be an admission of guilt so she stared out the window and struggled to control her breathing. When he mentioned jail she almost fell out of her chair. How could he give her over to the law, the red coats, for justice. He knew the fate of women prisoners and was willing to condemn her to the same. She felt hot tears coming down her cheeks and dropping into her lap but she did not move or look at him.

Jamie was getting concerned that she would stonewall him all the way to Fort William. This plan had backfired because she was not talking and seemingly accepted her punishment. He already knew what she had done. Given money to Glavia or misses Crooke because a family member was destitute or convicted for debt. Her heart was huge but her remedy would not be permitted. He watched her tears fall off her face continuously as she stared straight ahead. Her face was sheet white and Jamie’s heart broke.

“Sassenach.”

“Yes, Jamie.”

“I would like you to confess and talk to me about why you took the money. Your punishment would not be so severe but you have to be honest with me.”

“I’m afraid my honesty will make you shoot me in the head and forget about Fort William. I would rather not.”

“It’s yer decision lass. We leave in an hour.”

“Jamie! Let me hold Faith until then, please.”

He watched her sobbing uncontrollably, looking at him pleadingly.

“Fine.”

Claire ran for the doors to the study thinking she would open the door and run up the stairs. When the door didn’t open she hit her head soundly on it creating a river of blood down the middle of her face.

“Claire!”

“Open the door Jamie, please just open the door!”

Jamie grabbed her and held her so she couldn’t run. He half dragged her into the kitchen for a rag and water for her face. If he eased up on his hold she would bolt for the stairs so he kept a crippling hold on her waist.

“My sweet Sassenach, this has gone too far. I did not expect your bravery or strength or silence for that matter. I could never hand you over to Fort William. I was just tryin to scare the truth from ye. By your words the truth is somethin dark so I got to hear it. I’ll remind ye that I forgave ye anythin ye have done, or would do, in the presence of God. Ye will be forgiven.

Jamie looked at her sad bloody face and waited for what looked like a gathering of courage. He was perplexed at her unwillingness to speak about it and suddenly his mind went to certain places and saw her doing things that filled with red rage.

“Now Sassenach, do not test me anymore, speak yer truth,” he growled.

“I gave the money to Jenny and Ian. They are suffering and starving and they are all alone. They live in a small room above the tavern where she works. Ian takes care of the baby and Jenny works, all day every day. I had to help them.”

Jamie left the kitchen quickly and the door slammed behind him. Claire raced upstairs and grabbed Faith clutching her close to her body. Glavia was startled by Claire’s face but she had no chance to ask about it. Claire was gone with a swirl of skirts.

Once Faith was fed Claire cried her eyes out. Deep, gut-twisting sobs that broke her heart. After an hour she wiped her face and paced her room. She was desperate to feel Jamie’s strength and love. She believed she would cease to breathe if she didn’t see him.

Claire peered into the barn and saw Jamie sitting on a hay bale. She timidly walked to him and said she was sorrier than she had ever been in her life. The sobbing made her breath come in hiccups and she tried in vain to breathe normally. Faith was bundled up against the cold and blew bubbles at Jamie making what noise she could to get his attention.

Jamie could see how Claire was shaking and standing bravely in front of him. There was not a thing more she could do to show her contrition and in that instant, he was over her betrayal. He pulled her into his lap and kissed Faith causing her little legs to kick and her hands to seek him. Claire was silent and stared at the ground just so happy to be in his lap.

Punishment was given so the offense would stop and he would bet his life she would not betray him again. It was time for love and forgiveness and his bride was running very low on both at the moment.

“Suppose ye give Faith to Glavia and come for a ride with me before supper?”

[saintdirk]

(( oh i immediately reacted viscerally as i always do with rebellion daves because (ugly sobbing) ALPHA DAVE AND JADE ARE MY FAVES but also like... consider: itty bitty baby dirk and roxy being catapulted into the rebellion era instead of like a billion years into the future or watever. still making those tender recordings because their future is uncertain, grappling with the paranoia of the empire breathing down his neck, and trying his utmost to keep the most Precious Thing In His Life Safe, while also fighting for what he staunchly believes in. sitting up late at night just looking at lil baby dirk snoozing and reminding himself there is Good in this world and to remind him What hes fighting for, a better future for this tiny lil bean. alpha rose, as his companion thruout this nonsense: putting a quiet hand on his shoulder late at night after the babies have settled down to snnnnz because shes the only other person who understands him and knows that constant scrutiny and need to be More, and to Protect their kids, and really just the convoluted pathway parenthood takes in general let alone when ya baby just gets hucked into your arms by a meteor and you know with visceral fear that the future is encroaching way too fast and ur death? impending. this baby? needs you. and so even if ur doomed.. ur still gonna do the most! bcuz thats what a good parent does, a good dad does, love their kids with all theyve got

[the-meat-machine]

Double drabble for day 7 of @hsderseweek: Future - Roxy/Dave/Rose/Dirk.

This is a sequel to the above drabble, so... read that one first. see, this one is in the "future" relative to yesterday's drabble, so it totally fits the theme. shut up

Contents include: praise kink, mommy kink. Gently NSFW

"Now aren't you glad Dave and Roxy talked us into this?" says Rose.

You mumble something incoherent in response, too blissed out to form words. Someone runs their hand up the inside of your thigh.

"Shh, shhhh, no need to talk. You were soooo good for us, Dirky," Roxy says. Warmth blooms within you at the praise.

Beside you, Dave sits up on his elbows. You shuffle closer to him instinctively. "Was I good too, Mommy?" he asks, not as deadpan as he's probably trying to be.

"Oh my God," mutters Rose.

"Of course you were, baby! You're all my precious kiddos, ok?"

"Oh my God," Rose says again, but when you crack open your eyes to look at her, you see the flush in her cheeks as Roxy smooths a hand through her hair. She catches your eye and the two of you come to an instant, wordless agreement to never tell anyone how much you both love this.

Your eyes fall closed again. You're sticky and sweaty and you should probably get a shower soon. But, you think as Dave tangles his fingers with yours, it couldn't hurt to stay like this for just a few more minutes.

Drabble for day 6 of @hsderseweek: Polyshipping - Dave/Roxy.

Slightly NSFW language, I guess?

"C'mon Davey, you know Dirk would do aaaaanything for you."

"That's the problem. I want him to agree because he wants to, not out of guilt or whatever."

"Welllll, if you insist, I can talk Dirk around instead. But then you gotta deal with Rose."

You groan. "On second thought, you know who I love propositioning for incestuous orgies? Dirk."

Roxy nudges your bare shoulder with her own. "You're gonna have to face Rose eventually if we pull this off, y'know."

"Yeah, but. Not yet, ok?"

"Fine, fine. We have our assignments. Operation Family Reunion: Sexy Style is a go!"

[wizardsnwookies]

DFD022218 - Stories by the Fire

Raven quietly bussed the empty dishes in front of one of her regulars, Talmuld the carpenter and was thanked with the traditional nod. The inn was filled with the usual suspects tonight, with no indication it would be unlike any other. She brushed a lock of her ebony hair out of her faced and contemplated again cutting it short. Back in her adventuring days she would keep it no longer than below her ears, chopping it hap haphazardly with her dirk if it got too long. These days there weren’t much cause for worry regarding a goblin grabbing hold of her locks and pulling her head back to slit her throat, it helped keep her neck warm, but damned if it wasn’t a nuisance.

The banging of the door as it slammed back against the wall broke into her thoughts, the cold wind blew in from the night and flakes of snow wafted in onto the floor. Heavy boots tracked it in even further. She’d have to mop that up. She looked at the clock that never kept that well a time, but it was enough to estimate. Everyone who was going to show was either here or came and went. Travelers. Her spirit lifted at the thought of full coin purses and she turned to greet them warmly, her smile was immediately wiped clean off her face when she saw who was among the newcomers.

“What is this a temple? This is a place of revelry and warmth!!” Baldric twirled off his coat and handed it to the nearest table to hang up for him, kicking the snow from his heels and already identifying the easy pickings in the crowd. “Come, pull up your chairs and I will tell you of our treacherous journey to your lovely town!”

Surtur rolled his eyes and relieved a confused young woman of Baldric’s coat, tossing it outside into the snow. “Long story short, he was hit by a kobold’s sling and cried!”

Baldric ignored the shot and sat on top of one of the tables, leaning in towards the crowd that had quickly become drawn to his energy. “Why, it’s so cold out there you’d freeze your beard off!”

“NO, not my beard!” A drunkard gasped.

“YES! Why look at me. When we began this journey I had a magnificent beard, but now...” Baldric rubbed his bare chin for effect. “Smooth as a baby’s arse!!” Baldric bellowed with laughter, slapping his knee. Laughter tended to be infections, even if it was disingenuous. Sure enough, the sleepy crowd followed in turn, perking up from their tankards.

Surtur and Siggrun hung their furs up on the rack and founds seats at the bar, trying their best to ignore the commotion beginning to grow around them. Raven moved towards them with baleful eyes cast in the bard’s direction.

“Food and drink, if you please.” Surtur set down his flail in the chair next to him as if it were his precious son.

“Of course.” Raven coldly poured two pints and shoved them towards the pair of dwarves. Her sour mood only to get worse.

“-for days now, with nothing but the packs on our back. Our feet have become bloodied and blistered, our bellies filled with nought but dried beef well past it’s due, our whetskins so dry we wring from them nought but the oil used to tan them...” Baldric was laying it on thick now, but damned him if it didn’t work.

“Raven! Get this man food and drink by Gods! On me!”

“Why sir, I am astounded and humbled by your generosity. If I may repay you for such kindness,” Baldric removed the look from behind him and shot a wink in Raven’s direction.

“Ugh...what are you doing traveling with him?” She scribbled the order down on a scrap of paper and slammed it down on the window behind her leading into the kitchen.

“Hoping to make a man out of him.” Surtur wiped the ale from his whiskers. Curious, it tasted somewhat sweeter than common ale, more like mead than anything else really.

“Good luck with that. Some free advice? That one’s bad news.”

“Aye, we’re well aware lassie.” Siggrun folded his arms on the counter and pulled a face. “Unfortunately we’re stuck with ‘em for the time being. Eh, but mebbe we get lucky and the mountain will put him out of our misery.”

“Not Death Frost?” She slid two bowls of steaming yak stew in front of them, the color drained from her rosy cheeks.

“Aye, that be the one.”

“Let me guess, Lord Umber?”

Siggrun and Surtur exchanged looks.

“You’re not the first he’s sent up that mountain, not the first dwarf either. About five years back, name of Winston. I tried to warn him that the pass was haunted but he wouldn’t hear anything of it. No one’s seen him since.” Raven felt a chill run up her spine. In her days of blood and glory she never stood down from anything that lay in front of her, but even thinking of that mountain...

“Hey, you pansy ass bastard, get over here, we’re talking business!” Surtur leaned over his shoulder and made sure to shout loud enough for the whole inn to hear. The look Baldric shot him could curdle goat’s milk.

“Please, do excuse me. I’m afraid I’m the brains of this operation, can’t do a thing without me.” Another boisterous laugh left his lips but was cut short the instant he was out of earshot. “What the HELL are you doing?? I was working that crowd!”

“And they weep for their loss I’m sure.” Siggrun shoved him into the counter, knocking the wind out of his chest before continuing. “Funny you should mention Winston, I ‘ad a friend of mine head up this way looking for ‘im. Human by the name of Norquist, ring any bells?”

Raven shook her head. “No, and we don’t get many visitors around here.”

Siggrun frowned and took a solemn pull from his tankard, such news didn’t bode well. “Well, you were saying something about a pass?”

“Yeah, leads you straight up the mountain.” Raven cast her eyes over to the wall, as if looking through it and out into the snow, towards the dark shadow that loomed over the entire town. “Word is it’s cursed, so it’s still not something I’d recommend doing, but considering the alternative.”

“The alternative being?” Baldric slouched over, he was already bored.

“Scaling the mountain yourself, which is a death sentence. But in your case, be my guest.” She stared daggers at him. This one had been a thorn in her side before. Strolling into town with nothing to his name, coming into her inn, fleecing her customers, and walking out with everything he could carry.

The bard smiled, a thought slithering its way through his lizard brain. He wondered, did she hate him enough to not be worth the attempt? The payoff, on the other hand, was quite tempting. What the hell, let’s give it a go.

“I’d listen to her my friends, she may look like just another beautiful young maiden behind a bar. Don’t let that fool you. Why, in her day she was a thing of legends. I have sung songs of her achievements that have left the crowd in nothing short of awe.”

Wow. Did he actually think that would work on her, Raven thought? Did he think her simple? The bastard. She looked at the other two for some kind of sympathy or shared disgust in this little wart. These two dwarfs seemed decent enough men. Sturdy. Brave... I wonder?

Raven looked around her at the inn that sometimes seemed like it was falling down around her. Talmuld was a miracle worker with a hammer, but even he could only repair something so far before it needed fresh wood. Up here, that tended to get expensive in the quantities she would need it. New stairs, roof patching, doors, stools, table tops...we’re talking a lot of gold. The kind of gold an adventurer would pull in...

“Alright, you want me to go with you? Fine.”

Baldric smiled, got her!

“On one condition,” she jabbed a finger into his chest and dug in. “You pay these people back everything by paying their way tonight.”

Surtur chuckled, he liked this one! Meanwhile, Siggrun was busy admiring the well toned muscles hidden by her simple tunic. The way they bulged out of the fabric when she poked the bard in the chest told him she was no stranger to wielding a sword. There would be no objections from him.

“Fine.” Baldric surprised them all, gently taking her finger and moving it away form his chest he turned and bellowed into the crowd, arms raised high above his head. “Everyone!! Next round is on me!!!”

A deafening cheer rang out into the inn, tankards were raised in a toast to this delightful young man. Sour old men that Raven had yet to see smile at all this evening walked up and slapped him on the shoulder, eager to receive their next drink. Raven squinted her eyes, this, she was not expecting. Baldric spun back around and returned her confusion with a smile that was dripping with self satisfaction and pulled a small shift of paper from inside his tunic and handing it to the barmaid.

“You’ll want to pack your heavy coat. It’s bound to get cold up there.”

Raven examined the piece of paper and she cursed to herself. It was a expense slip, all to be charged in  the name of Lord Umber.

---

“Hey...whazzin this pie?” Surtur’s speech slurred as he struggled to maintain balance on the stool, eventually he gave up and leaned against the bar top. He gestured with his fork to the half eaten slab of warm fruit pie in front of him. It was all the Inn served, and he had had more than his share of it.

“Frostberries.” Raven smiled, taking the opportunity to slide his tankard away, hiding it under the counter. “It’s about the only thing that grows up here, so we use it for everything we can. Even the ale.”

“I thought it tassssssted sweet.”

“Come on now lad, I think you’ve had enough.” An armored arm wrapped itself around Surtur’s shoulder and pulled him to the ground, making sure he stood nice and sturdy on his own two feet. Siggrun tossed a purse of coins behind him to Raven. “I’ll see him to bed. Now get yourself some sleep, we’re off early in the mornin’.”

The two dwarves slowly made their way upstairs, stopping every few steps to make sure Surtur didn’t fall or worse, wretch all over the priest holding him up. In the corner of the inn, Baldric smiled and watched them dissappear at the top of the stairs and waited until he heard two doors close solidly. Separate rooms, thank the Gods.

They had been traveling together for some time now, and aside from the night at Lord Umber’s manor they had been sharing a tent the entire time. Two dwarves and a human, three sets of armor, Surtur’s ungodly large flail, and their packs, all crammed into a humid tent bathing in the scent of three individuals who were covered in callouses, scars, and had not bathed in days. Baldric was aching for a soft bed, and more pleasant company.

Looking around he was dismayed to find he was the last one awake, all of Wolfshead’s residents were warm in their beds now as far as he can tell...that is, all except himself and Raven, whom he suspected would awaken him with a knife in the back considering her past attitudes.

Although...perhaps not. He had managed to get her to come along hadn’t he? Besides, imagining a warm soft body smelling of ale and flowers was far too tempting. He could at the very least give it the old college try. Who knows, he might get lucky.

“So, Raven.” He poured every ounce of charm he had on reserve into his voice. The look he gave her was not promising towards his odds of success. “Seeing as we’re going to be spending a lot more time together, I was just wondering...

“Well, it’s awfully cold out there tonight, and you know what they say about body heat being the best way to keep warm.” He slipped his hand across the counter and rested it gently on hers. For a moment he braced himself, expecting a knife to come crashing down, sacrificing her own hand just to spite him.

“You know what Baldric, I think you’re right.” Raven cooed sweetly.

“I am?”

“Absolutely.” She leaned forward before pulling away, showing off her assets as she made her way into the kitchen. “Just let me get a few things.”

Wow, thought Baldric. I honestly didn’t think that would work. He smiled to himself noting to never again doubt his abilities. His self congratulatory mood was broken however by the emergence of a massive orc pulling off a stained chef’s apron.

“I hear you like body warmth.” Baldric’s eyes watered at the foul breath that leaked from a mouth of half rotten teeth. The orc’s hygiene habits made the dwaves seem like primed and proper. His massive chest was as if chiseled from stone and covered in a forest of hair. Scars littered his skin, the areas that weren’t covered in warts and sores that is. From beneath his arms an acrid stench combined with the breath and made the bard light headed. That cramped tent, suddenly seemed far more appealing.

Behind the orc Raven leaned against the jamb of the door leading into the kitchen, a triumphant smile plastered on her face. Touche, Raven, Baldric though. Well played indeed, but I’ll be damned if I let you think you’ve won. Otherwise, the journey up that mountain would be doubly insufferable.

Baldric straightened an composed himself, holding his chin high he turned and headed for the stairs. “Well, looks like I’m the little spoon then.”

---

Gor, prayed Siggrun, give me strength so that I may continue the work of the Bloodyhand. Your servants fought this evil once before, if it not be finished, I will bring their work to a close in your glorious name.

Ice cold winds pelted his skin, melting for the briefest of moments before freezing in his beard. He could feel the cold pressure of the snow through his furs as they trudged through the drifts of the covered pass. This was only the beginning, they had a long ways yet to go. He had strength enough for now, but he knew only Gor would ultimately decide his fate. He only wished that his god was kind enough to let him die a beautiful death, with a weapon in his hand, and blood upon his face. A warriors death, as all deaths should be.

On their second day of hiking, the town below appeared as it could be held in his palm, but still the mountain loomed ahead of them. He looked back at the Bard, struggling to keep up as was expected. Raven took the rear, bless her. She knew Baldric’s pride would not allow him to be the last in line. As long as she kept pace behind him, Baldric would keep moving and they would keep to their time.

“Hold up, we’ve got something up ahead.” Surtur held up a fist allowing Siggrun to catch up and peer through the flurries. Dusk was falling, so he was forced to squint to catch the rest but a warm campfire was easily spotted just outside a cluster of trees.

“What is it? We making camp?” Raven shoved the lagging Bard forward, not a bead of sweat on her brow.

“Someone is. A tanner maybe, or a fur trapper from the looks of it.” Siggrun motioned to the camp before them. They could smell it from here, the fresh gore of hide hanging from the trees. Wolf pelt, fox, even a bear. Bones and antlers littered the red puddles of melted snow, and the naked corpses of animals heaped to one side gathering snow.

“Old Zeke.” Raven wrinkled her nose as the stench, her voice lowering to just above a whisper. “Best be careful from her on out. He’s a bit...off, but long as we don’t upset him we should be fine.”

The group pressed forward slowly, more details coming into view and the foul odor coming more and more pervasive. On each hanging skin, were names, scrawled with a trembling hand and written in blood. These names it seemed, were being copied onto wooden plaques, delicately carved. Each one resting in various stages of completion below their corresponding skin. Just as they were about to hail the resident within the crude shack, a massive figure pushed back the heavy skins and stepped out into the snow.

The man was massive, standing nearly two heads taller than Baldric. The cold eyes that stared back at his visitors showed his years, years that had not at all been kind or easy. Blood covered him head to toe, dried flecks of red stained his long grey beard. For a moment there was only the dull clatter of the wooden bowl and spoon tucked under his arm as he examined the group before a weary grin curled from his lips.

“Well now, been a long time since I’ve had visitors up these parts. Raven, keeping them lads at bay down at the inn?”

“Best I can.” Raven forced a slight smile, but her stance was tense Siggrun noticed, ready for anything. A warrior’s stance. He was liking this woman more and more. “How you keeping up here?”

“Oh, I manage.” An old chuckle fell out of him and Zeke groaned as he lowered himself down onto a hunk of tree pulled up to the fire. Wrinkled hands, seemingly not bothered by the frigid temperatures reached out and stirred a bubbling pot of stew within a small camp cauldron. “Supper just about came on, you’re welcome to it if you like. Warm you up ‘fore your way back.”

“‘Way back?’“ The bard shifted in his place and sucked his teeth. Siggrun noticed it as a nervous tell, he was uncomfortable. For once, the warpriest couldn’t blame him.

“Afraid I can’t let you got much further than here.”

“Why not?” Surtur shot a careful look Siggrun’s way, a part of the unspoken communication they had perfected through their journeys. A careful look in his direction betrayed a slight tightening of his grip upon the flail heaved over his shoulder.

“It’s cursed land.” Stew slopped and steamed into Zeke’s bowl. Not once did he look up from it. His voice steady, very matter of fact.

“I ain’t afraid. I’ll punish whatever’s up there.” Siggrun finally spoke up, pulling aside his furs to flash the sigil of Gor emblazoned upon his armor. Only then did Zeke’s eyes lift from his dinner, they paused briefly on the sigil, then stared into Siggrun’s eyes with a burning intensity that sent a shock through his system.

“If you ain’t afraid, you ought to be. I’ll say it again, I ain’t letting you up that mountain.

“Ask Raven, she’ll tell you what the people in Wolfshead think of me. Think me simple, maybe even mad. Now don’t go fibbing little lady, I know it’s true.” Zeke held up a hand to stop Raven’s feeble attempts at protesting. He closed his eyes, setting his bowl into the snow and leaned forward on his knees.

“Fact is, I know more of the truth than most down there do about this mountain. Those that do, they’re content to keep quiet of the fact, try and forget. That’s fine, I understand. Some things are just too much for folk to bare. Sometimes the only way to keep on is to forget. Some days I wish I could, but the fact is, someone has to remember, for them.” Zeke motioned to the names carved on the plagues, painted in blood on hanging skins above them.

“I seen them graves the cult dug for them. Little more than holes in the ground really. Tossed them aside like rotten vegetables from the cellar. So many bodies, can’t hope to remember them all. They kept good records though, if’n I hadn’t lost my nerve I’d have made a copy of them while I was up there.”

Surtur sat down across the old man warming himself by the fire and grabbing his own bowl from his pack. “Maybe you can tell us where to find it. We could bring it back-”

“Ain’t you been listening?” Zeke snapped, almost moving to a stand. Siggrun felt his muscles tense instinctively, beside him he watched Raven’s hand reach for the hilt of her sword, Baldric was conveniently absent. Surtur put a hand up, shaking his head, the signal to hold.

“I told you, that place is cursed. You don’t bring nothing down from off that mountain or you’ll bring it with you, and you ain’t going up there anyhow. What you want up there anyways?” The old man’s eyes narrowed, staring through each and every one of them.

“Gold, obviously. What other reason is there?” Finally showing himself, Baldric was immediately met with Raven’s elbow in his gut. But it was too late, Zeke had heard him and replied with by spitting on the ground.

“What good is gold if you’re dead?”

“I’m looking for someone who went missing not a few days ago.” Siggrun stepped forward and returned Zeke’s stare unflinchingly. “He went looking for a mutual friend who was sent up that mountain on a quest and never came back.”

For a moment, Zeke’s eyes softened, his muscles relaxed some, and he almost appeared to sink back into the stump, deflating as he let out a long sigh. “He like family?”

“Aye.”

Everything was quiet, the only sound the crackling of the fire and soft flutter of snow falling from weighted branches. “It’s getting dark. Eat up, you can share my shack for the night if you wish.” He offered nothing else and ignoring his half-eaten dinner in the snow beside him, Zeke stood and retreated to his tent.

The group looked at each other, neither of them sure of what had happened, or what to expect from the morning. Eventually, cold and hunger forced them to comply and fill their bellies with a hunters stew of water, blood, and tough hunks of meat. Upon entering the shack they found the old man already asleep in a pile of furs in the corner, and when they awakened the next morning, he was gone.

[asterdeer]

For the fandom ask! Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency? I still haven't seen ittt

aaaaaaaaaaahh! you should def watch it (as long as you don’t mind p strong language a couple times an ep), it’s s o good man

How I entered/learned about the said game/show/movie/etc of that fandom i was just watching star trek on bbca one day and the commercial came up? and of course i knew dirk gently was a douglas adams thing and i’ve been a douglas adams fan for years, plus it had elijah wood, and it looked pretty good, so–!!

Fave character dirk!! dirk!!! dirk!!!! my precious sunshine stringbean man (i really love farah too like honestly she is SO CLOSE to being my favorite that she and dirk might as well share places but i think dirk is fav for now. i’m confident that s2′ll make me love farah even more)

Least fave character mmmmmmm probably gordon rimmer, besides the fact that he’s where most of the extreme language comes from (i swear more than i wish i did but i can’t do g-d lmao) he just frustrates me a lot. like dude chill

OTP(s) brotzly obviously, i love farah/amanda (faranda?), also i could REALLY get behind dirk/farah bc they’re adorable as frick

Pairing that everyone likes but I don’t get i mean this fandom is such a baby so far that there aren’t really that i’m not into. they’re all cute

Fave thing about the fandom it’s so small and enthusiastic and kind of has that family vibe without the negativity!! also really cool edits/fanart! just good stuff to be had all around 

The most despised thing like i said this fandom is a baby (it’s like. five months old dude) so i haven’t seen anything particularly awful from it, here’s hoping that stays true #staygoldponyboy

If there is something I would change from said game/show/movie/etc., what would it be. [redacted] IS [REDACTED] DADGUMMIT THEY GOTTA BE OKAY

[skyphile]

Happy V(b)day!

GIFTS

a pair of whirlwind like piercings, a silver, smaller set like this, for his cheek dimples

matching fish toys for him and bongwater, this one for the cat, a Way bigger version for the… larger cat /:

a cardbox built castle shaped like a bong - for bongwater (google failed me here… )

non sweet chocolate pastries - using the alternian chocolate to make sea-salt based sauce and savory churro dough for the pastry

his reinterpretations (piano and softer) of the entire écailles de lune album - the og album here

this dumb vday card

a pair of luvdisc plushies like this, with magnets on the tip of their mouth

a whole nest! - from the same verse he’s taken daven to. john’s found an entire network of underwater tunnels made from some definitely alien tech, that serve as an observatorium of the sea life right there. the tunnels are mostly metallic, but they have several entryways into the sea, protected by nothing but a barrier you can phase through, but still keeps the liquid perfectly outside. there’s several rest points too, which john’s littered with cushions and other comforts, and one of them even has a kitchen area with a teleporter especially made to receive john’s fridge-like sylladex cards. john knows nothing of the civilization thats made these - if it even still exists - but figures fucker will enjoy the mystery. he knows very little of the marine life of this verse too, except it’s Very different, but also gets it if fucker wants to go out and explore too. the kitchen has a PLEaSE FEED ME button, that sends a signal to john whenevers pressed and he can respond to.

LETTER

In plain white paper, in pretty blue swirly cursive,

happy birthday, and merry heart day double whammy, fucker!!

ordinarily i write a very tender one of these any time an important birth event comes, but i figure it’s only fair i up my game for you - the big perk of landing the one day that should be about showing love and not be shy of it, to remind your important people why their place in your life matters.

so here it is…..

looking back at our first conversations now, it makes me so surprised to see how far we’ve come, from the the nervous back and forth of few words to…. the straight up sin that comes with the… pokemon fucking… topic. but, um. anyway!

for the longest time i honestly believed that i was? annoying to you, some sort of a loud factor that you had to take in small doses, and i didn’t want to give cause to make that worse or put pressure on you at all, so i guess that’s why i never really tried to talk much… i hope this doesn’t sound accusatory, because i don’t mean it to be!! it’s perfectly normal for people to be compatible with different ones in different moments of their lives. and i still got to secondhand see you and sbw work together, and the nice impact that had, and that made me very, very happy too.

now i realize that. we’re actually pretty similar in our origins here, the trouble that comes with opening up for the first time, to sow the seeds for something better, and i recognize that and i’m!! so proud of you for getting this far and, it’s very very nice to share this boat of recovery with you. i couldn’t ask for better company!

and also… i’m just… very happy that the veil of insecurity was drawn away and, well… we happened too!

because from day one i’ve seen you as someone grand and whose opinions i admired, someone who kind of? ressonated with me even if in subtle ways, someone who could shift my mood like five tiers better just by saying something nice, by giving me even the smallest compliment.

your insight has always been! really valuable to me, and to feel like we shared some key ideas on life and stuff has always felt very empowering.

seeing you talk of me with such honest kindness, to learn that!! the way that i am - which i struggle with on the regular because it’s… so easy to feel like anything that falls outside the norm is bad and bound to fail - is something you admire and even strive to achieve in your own terms, i can’t!! begin to describe how wonderful it felt, to have that kind of validation from someone i hold in such high esteem, for something i do without even thinking. so thank you, so much…

but it isn’t just that.

that opened the door to!! so much more. from then on, it kind of clicked on me that i’d been!! dumb and wrong all along, and that my paranoid feels of immediate rejection were. so silly to begin with… and as you helped me strip off that, everything else fell into place and! i found my way to be with you. and how wonderful that is!!

i adore that you carved your way into my home, and i love every second you spend here - i love laying back and feeling its heart beat, and knowing that the cadence of your own bloodstream is entwined in it. i love it when sbw gets teary over the new baby and thanks you under his breath, i love it when daven touches something up in the mirror and goes about how right you were over something you’ve mentioned about color combos, i love holding up sord to slice through veggies and they start humming something i’ve heard you hum before. you’ll always have a place here - you’re already embedded in the walls! 

no matter where life takes you, you’ll have a haven here.

and then i love it so much, the ease with which you’ve set camp in my own heart too.

from distant admiration through to mutual support of our out-of-the-norm, amazing ventures, it’s so natural to want you close, to love you with the friendly purity and joy of a child, to see you flourish, to tend to you in ways that’ll help you get there better.

i know this is because you’re so tiny (:P), but it makes me smile to feel how cosy you fit in my arms, and it makes me melt just! how tenderly you react to even the gentlest shows of affection, just how!! fucking adorable you are, and how nice cuddling you is… i hope it’s just as good to you, and please know that you deserve these and more, given regularly and by people who know how, and i’ll be on my toes to volunteer my tribute every time - i am!! that smitten, yes!! to see you soothed down and relaxed, breathing easy and at peace, is such a thing to treasure.

from then on there’s just!! a series of many other tiny ways you make me smile, that you fill up my heart with, you’ve made my life brighter…

you’re gorgeous, skin deep and every layer below that, in either form, in every shade of action i’ve seen you in, and i’ll fight you if you ever disagree with any of it (with more hugs and face kisses, i mean. i am kind of shit when it comes to aggression, although i guess sparring would be fun too?? I DIGRESS…). some of the events that happened to!! help break the ice between us were unorthodox as heck, to say the least, and very… flustering still to look back on and remember, but in the best way possible. ://)

i can count literally in one hand, the people i feel comfortable sharing that more!! intimate, sexual side of myself, and there’s an undefined bond now, because you got to feel as i feel, and more than that, you’ve?? treated it with such respect, described it in a way that? has really made me tear up like a dweeb, because gosh, you?? get it, you understand the amount of love i endlessly pour into them, and if anything that’s made me feel like i’ve made the right choice, however impulsive, when i dragged you to all that…

like you’re a comfortable presence there too.

i don’t know if anything similar will happen again, but i know now that i’d really love to, to even have!! a more active role in it, because! i feel as comfortable with you there as i am with them, and that’s. a rare, special thing for me. even if i’ll!! always need daven to be near to Want to put any of it into action….

to get to kiss you, to get to make you feel good in added other ways?? (gay peter pan voice) would be an awfully great adventure…

but then at the same time i realize how complex your relationship with sex is by now, and more than anything i want you to know that!!! my epitome of happiness already happens through looking after you, through feeding you and holding you close, and despite the attraction still DEFINITELY being there, the best way i can be with you is the way where you’re just as happy as me, and. yeah…

in many ways, this weird, unique intense mix of different ways i’m drawn to you, fits the qpp Experience™ for sure. because it’s its own thing, it’s still pretty wild to get used to it, and a big exciting adventure to figure out as well!! the languages i’m comfy talking you in, and again, i don’t want this to put any pressure on you either way, or for you to feel like you need to?? indulge in any of these things for me to be happy with you in my life, for me to want you to stay.

because i want you for you! no matter what!

if anything i figured!! baring open my full feelings for you here would be fitting for the day and would be… a good way to show you just how much of a positive, growing impact you’ve had on me, and how my happiness has weaved to yours in ways i don’t want to untangle.

how much i!! want to be the same to you.

i hope you can remember this, even when things get rough, but i will never be too far that i won’t want to remind you either!

finally it’s just. infinitely precious that we get to build on all these broad and diverse and wonderful scenarios where dirk and you and i are together, tackling the odds and creating a family based on love and trust and support, and i love getting to spend time with both of you almost like kids, sprawled belly down on the floor with lots of paper and crayons, drawing up our castles and treehouses, our effigies holding hands. it’s been!! such a blessing to get to love you both, and thinking about our verses helps add sugar to this one and… honestly, i hope that our friendship translates just the same, in our own safe ways.

and then i… wanted to say, just how obvious it is, how much you’ve grown, just how awesome the path you’ve taken is, and how?? happy i am to see you here and now, rid of things that had you down, and surrounded by others that get your eyes twinkling and your fingertips typing for miles, on love and devotion, cherishing and respect, happiness.

love and happiness look so good on you, you are!! infinitely lovely when you delve in subjects that instill either and both in you, and i hope i always get to hear you talk about your boyfriend and the people you coexist with, your projects that keep you pumped, all the little quirks and things that make you yourself - because all that is so good…

so!!! here’s to all this… to keep this going and see where it leads, like a bottled message in the current, all those fish that migrate far into the sea, only to always be led back home. i am really excited to keep loving you, and i hope these tokens and these words always help.

stay well, fucker! i love you!!

~ john