#Vivienne Pond

[starlightpixels]

New Sim?

[the-diary-of-vivienne]

[practically-an-x-man]

Your OCs' partners have been turned into frogs! Unfortunately, they also have been dropped in a pond, filled with other, identical frogs. How fast are they able to true loves' kiss them back?

Oooooh, that's fun!! Thank you!

Rae: It takes a few minutes, but they're quiet minutes. Really, she just takes a few steps back and waits for the chaos to sort itself out. She knows Warren will look for her, he always does, and it's definitely easier for him to locate her than vice versa.

Robin: The issue is not identifying the right frog. The issue is catching the right frog, because it's hopping around about twelve times faster than all the others in a vaguely brownish-green blur.

Madison: She just has Bravo scare them off, after verbally describing this plan out loud to the pond - the real frogs of course will scatter immediately, that's just natural instinct, but Alex should linger behind because he 1. heard the plan and 2. doesn't have that reflex, or at least not as strongly as the real frogs.

Ophelia: A couple buttons and buzzers from around her lab should do the trick. One frog hopping on one buzzer is coincidence, but the same frog pointedly hopping on each buzzer in turn is clearly intentional, and has to be Peter. It's the same premise as those dogs that use buttons to communicate.

Gia: Kinda just... sits around and waits for one of the frogs to do a particularly Kate-like thing? She's not sure what else to do. This might take a while.

Jasper: Tries to pinpoint Kyle through his emotions, which haven't changed too much and are still relatively distinct from the other frogs. At the very least, it'll get Jasper to the right general area of the pond, and they can do some more sussing-out from there.

Katherine: One she's in tune with the magic, she can kind of sense this spark within each of the museum exhibits that comes from the magic keeping them alive, and that includes Ahk. She can sense which frog is him, though she probably way overthinks the fairytale "kiss the frog" thing and starts cycling through all the frog-based myths and legends she knows to try and find a solution.

Kestrel: Simple. Turns into a frog themself and asks around a bit. It's a lot easier without the language barrier.

Quinn: I don't even know where to start with her. Even just assuming she actually does recognize what's going on, since I'm getting tired of just being like "oh well there's no magic here so she probably assumes it's just a hallucination", she still wouldn't know what the hell to do to fix it. Probably just, like, yell at the frogs to get them to hide and scatter and then sort through whichever ones are left.

Eris: Honestly... probably just sits down and starts kissing the frogs one by one. Time doesn't matter to them, salmonella especially doesn't matter to them, and it's just simpler than trying to work out some complex solution. It does take a while, though.

Nikoletta: I mean... in theory, she just has to wait a bit for the polka dots to start showing up again, right? They come around a few times a day when he's human, so she's got at most a few hours to wait before the physical cues start to show themselves. Not a fast solution, but an easy one.

Jimmy: Much like Eris, just works through the pond one frog at a time. Maybe Lars would have a more sciencey solution if their positions were switched, but it's the only thing Jimmy can really think to do. And it works, though it takes a while and Lars is never letting that story go.

Vivienne: Again, like Eris, probably just starts kissing frogs until it stumbles upon the right one. Once you get past the threat of salmonella (basically nil when you're a near-immortal siren or metahuman), it's really just the most straightforward solution out there.

[viviennebeaufort]

who: @a-small-drop-in-a-big-pond (jensen) where: Rhythm Realm

Vivienne sauntered down the quaint street of Raven’s Peak, her gaze drifting over the charming little shops that lined the avenue. The town had a cozy, welcoming feel to it, and she found herself drawn to its unique charm. As she strolled, she noticed a small, eclectic record store tucked between two other establishments. The sign above the door read "Rhythm Realm," and it seemed to beckon her with its promise of nostalgia and music.

Curious, Vivienne made her way inside. The bell above the door jingled softly as she entered, and she was immediately enveloped in the warm, familiar scent of vinyl and old paper. She looked around, admiring the neatly organized rows of records and the cozy, retro decor.

Behind the counter, a young man with a friendly demeanor was helping a customer. Vivienne couldn’t help but notice his charming smile and the way he seemed to genuinely enjoy his work. As the customer left, she approached the counter, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Good afternoon,” she began, her voice smooth and inviting. “I couldn’t help but notice this delightful little shop. I’m Vivienne, and I’m new to town. I must say, you have quite the impressive collection here.”

She leaned in slightly, her smile widening. “I’m on the hunt for something special. Do you have any recommendations for a newcomer looking to explore the local music scene?”

[wellthebardsdead]

The loved & the forgotten pt16

Part 15 here

———

Vivienne: *hidden from prying eyes with the ring of khajiiti, only his under cloth and Kaidans cape covering his blood soaked skin as he runs through the bulwark and out into the ash wastes, covering his mouth as he sobs, feeling disgusting from being touched by a man who’d used him so viciously in the past, feeling disgusting for being used at all and daring to find love thinking he’d ever be worthy of it, and feeling disgusting as the blood painting his beautiful body dries and sticks uncomfortably to every crevice it can* I need- I need to be clean I need a bath I need to be clean- *chokes in a mouthful of ash as he hyperventilates as a panic attack wracks his body and the sounds of his loved ones calling his name ring in his ears* I need to be clean in- *coughs and sobs as his foot finds clay amongst the dry earth* wh-what?… *looks up slightly to see a small stream, babbling down the hill from a waterfall tucked away behind rocks and trees* … *walks to it and gasps softly, seeing it forming a large pond, filled with giant lotus leaves and blossoms towering taller than even Kaidan, and the water itself, guarded by the cliff face and towering trees, free from ash fall and so clear he can see goldfish the size of his head swimming beneath its surface* … *drops the invisibility and sheds Kaidans cloak and his under cloth before stepping in and shivering at how cold it is, reasoning it must come from the snow near the Skaal village* f-fuck… *wades his way in and slowly stares down at his reflection rippling in the crystal clear surface… his reflection… his face, stained with blood not his own* …I’m not Vivec… but… who are you?…

*meanwhile*

Kaidan: *standing with the group by the abandoned farmhouse theyd first met captain Veleth at* The suns going down he’s only got my cloak and his spear he must be terrified out of his mind and he’s caked in blood! Predators will hunt him from all the way across the island if they catch a whiff of him!

Taliesin: kaidan he’ll be okay we’ll find him-

Kaidan: There’s werebears on this island! Dragons to- where’s miraak?

Miraak: *suddenly flies overhead on sarhrotaar followed by other dragons loyal to him*

Taliesin: searching by the air…

Veleth: it’s no good us searching as one group. I’ll lead my men past the standing stone and see if he went that way.

Kaidan: *sighs* okay, Tali, you’re with me.

Taliesin: *nods sadly just looking so tired and worried* okay.

Kaidan: hey… *gently strokes his cheek* we’ll find him…

Sero: I’ll stick with inigo and Lucien so they don’t get lost. Solstheim is even more dangerous after dark.

Kaidan: Aye, we’ll meet back at the bulwark in 3 hours. Everyone keep a torch spare in case you get lost so miraak can find you yeah?

Everyone: *nods*

???: If we may, we’d like to help too.

Everyone: *turns to see nerevar & voryn both approaching, dressed in their armour and looking more suited than everyone (except teldryn) to handle the islands elements*

Kaidan: oh I- I don’t mean to ask for your help again sir but, we really need it.

Nerevar: *nods* no no please it’s no burden we… We knew him… when he was Vivec… I know we did not have a chance for proper introductions before and time is of the essence now but, I am Indoril Nerevar and this is my husband, councillor and guard, Voryn Dagoth.

Voryn: *nods* …He’s calming down…

Taliesin: what?

Vivec: oh he’s attempting to scry on him but it’s as if somethings blocking him… he’s calming down then?…

Voryn: …I hear water… search near water.

Kaidan: …Were on a focking island.

Taliesin: *slaps his arm* They’re trying to help!

*an hour later*

Vivienne: *scrubbed himself clean all over, quietly hiding away amongst the lotus leaves and flowers as he hears dragons fly over head, too fragile and tired to fight, too scared to face his friends, too ashamed to face his beloveds, and too cowardly to face the beautiful mer from his memories of vivec* … *looks at the golden hue casting over the rocks and trees, blanketing the ashy landscape in long shadows and a fiery sunset as the sun gleams its last light* … *sighs and turns back to the waterfall and flowers, gently patting the fish as they swim up to him and away again, not noticing the two figures casting a shadow by the stream as they follow it all the way up to his little hiding place…*

Voryn: *gently pulls nerevar behind a rock* stay here, I’ll speak with him-

Nerevar: Ryn… please… *holds his hands gently in his* let me try…

Voryn: … *sighs* okay… I’ll wait here…

Nerevar: *gently kisses his helm where his lips would be and steps out, approaching cautiously trying not to make too much noise, only to audibly gasp as he takes in the vision before him* gods…

Vivienne: *a good few hundred years younger than him, his body smaller and slender in build but still fit and somewhat muscular, like a well toned dancer. His clean white hair falling into damp curls and waves over his shoulders and face, and his blue and gold skin sparkling in the water, looking like a painting come to life as he stands amongst the water flowers* …huh? *ear twitching hearing nerevars awestruck whisper*

Nerevar: *bends down a little, hands up where they can be seen, wanting to appear as friendly and non threatening as possible* Vivienne?…

Vivienne: *spins around, eyes wide as he backs up in a panic, clinging to the wet rocks near the waterfall* g-GO AWAY! L-LEAVE ME ALONE!! *screams and tries to claw his way out of the water but can’t get any grip*

Nerevar: *immediately backs up seeing he’s still in shock* easy, easy shhh shhh… *removes his sword and shield and sets them down* shhh, im a friend-

Vivienne: NO YOURE NOT!! *sobs* shaking his head* You’re here to punish me for what I did to azuras shrine! For what I did to boethias shrine! You’re here because you think I’m Vivec! I’m not Vivec! I’m not a monster I’m not! I’m not him! I wasn’t the one who killed you it wasn’t me! Please just leave me alone I won’t bother anyone I won’t! I won’t ever bother anyone again please- p-plea… *looks up feeling a warm towel suddenly wrap around his shoulders to see nerevar standing in front of him, still in his armour but unarmed* I…

Nerevar: I brought some clothes you can wear… im sure you’d like that more than your partners cape yes?…

Vivienne: *visibly trembling and staring up at him as vivecs memories flash through his mind* v-vivec is sorry…

Nerevar: I… what?… *looks down at him confused*

Vivienne: v-Vivec told me he’s sorry for what h-he did to you- I promise I’m n-not lying- im not crazy or a liar he told me himself in a dream please b-believe me- I don’t want to be sent back to work in a-a b-brothel I don’t want to be in jail again.

Nerevar: shhh shhh. *pats his hair gently seeing another panic attack starting up* you’re not in trouble, you’re not crazy either… I believe you…

Vivienne: wh-why? I sound I-insane it doesn’t sound real I sound like I’m lying…

Voryn: *steps into view holding a warm blanket* I have the clothes ready…

Nerevar: *smiles back at him then looks back at Vivienne* because someone else close to me experienced the exact same thing…

[dragonridernoobie]

Hi! I’m here to request for Vivienne again, uhm, recently I’ve been going through a hard time mentally again, and I’m looking for some Vivienne comfort cause reading about the ocs interacting with her helps for some reason, could you possibly do something with Vivienne where she’s showing the bots her little cottage in the woods? Something sweet, with Vivienne extremely excited cause no one ever visits besides her brothers occasionally, I’m also considering going more into Vivienne backstory cause she’s originally a creepypasta oc and her lore intertwines with that- but I’m so nervous cause I don’t want her to seem, cringy, that’s the only word I can think of. Would you like to hear about my wonderful, possibly cannabilistic French lady?🧐

And just a daily reminder for all of you, you’re doing an amazing job! Make sure to take time for you kiddo

IL try my best, sorry this took a bit to go out, my job pulled a 360 on me and now I have a completely new schedule now. Also, I would love to hear about you're OC's story. I'm always down to listen to everyone's OC's story.

TransformersPrimeXVivienneCabin

There has been no decpticon activity so the autobots have been able to relaxed. The kids where out with their guardians. Currently, wheeljack, optimus, and ratchet where at base, doing their own thing. Ratchet was at the computer, wheeljack was flirting with ratchet, and optimus was doing his own thing. Vivienne was sitting on the couch, reading a book. While she reads, she looks up and sees how everyone is calm. She then gets an idea. She gets up and walks to find optimus.

She finds him in his berthroom, reading some deta-pads. When the door opens, he looks up.

Optimus: "Vivienne, is there I can help you with?"

Vivienne: "everyone seems so calm today, and I think it's a perfect day for everyone left on base to explore."

Optimus: "explore?"

Vivienne: "yes explore. I had a small cabin I have that I like to stay at. It's in the woods so you guys will be hidden."

Optimus: "that does not seem like a bad idea. Why don't you go tell ratchet and wheeljack to get ready."

Vivienne: "ok, ne prends pas longtemps" (Don't take long)

Vivienne then returns to the main room where she finds ratchet pinning wheeljack down, holding a wrench, yelling at wheeljack.

When Vivienne clears her throat, the two looks at her.

Ratchet: "sorry for you to see this Vivienne."

Ratchet gets up and goes back to the computer.

Wheeljack: "how can we help you vivi?" (Wheeljacka nickname for her)

Vivienne: "optimus wanted me to tell you two that we are going on a trip."

Wheeljack: "a trip?"

Optimus then walks into the room.

Optimus: "indeed. Vivienne has explained to me that everyone is relaxed and she has a small cabin she would like to show us."

Ratchet: "no, absolutely not. If we get cought, we will be in a huge amount scrap!"

Vivienne: "on y va" (here we go)

Optimus: "Vivienne has explained it is in the woods. It is gonna be very hidden."

Wheeljack: "that's enough for me, let's get going!"

Ratchet tried to voice in again but everyone already started to put in the cords. He just sighs and goes alone with them when they open the groundbridge.

When they exit thru the groundbride, they are met with a small wooden cabin, a pond nearby, and a little spit for cutting wood.

Pitcher of cabin

Wheeljack: "wow, this place is nice."

Optimus: "indeed, it is very hidden and quite here."

Ratchet: "...."

Vivienne: "follow, amis." (Friends)

Vivienne has a small skip in her step while they walk toward the cabin. Soon, they come close to it and ratchet, wheeljack, and optimus transform into their vehicle mods and go into their haloforms. They follow Vivienne in and they see how cozy it is.

Inside of cabin

Ratchet: "this place seems very comfortable."

Wheeljack: "I agree."

Optimus: "...." (he is focused on the shelf with a bunch of books)

Vivienne smiles and offer themselves a seat. When they sat down, Vivienne, goes into the kitchen and makes some yellow flower tea.

For the next 4 hours, Vivienne, ratchrt, wheeljack, and optimus sit in silence while reading.

When the end of the day comes, everyone gets ready to head back to base.

Optimus: "I enjoyed that very much."

Wheeljack: "I did to, I say we do this again but keep it between us."

Ratchet: "agreed, I rather not have bulkhead ruin anything here."

Vivienne: "I'm so happy you guys like it here!"

They return to base, just intake thay the other autobots arrive. They noticed how ratchrt, wheeljack, and optimus seem more....relaxed.

Ya, I don't blame then for being a little frighten.

I tried my best! I hope you like it!

[ulkaralakbarova]

A pastor preoccupied with writing the perfect sermon fails to realize that his wife is having an affair and his children are up to no good. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Walter Goodfellow: Rowan Atkinson Gloria Goodfellow: Kristin Scott Thomas Grace Hawkins: Maggie Smith Lance: Patrick Swayze Holly Goodfellow: Tamsin Egerton Petey Goodfellow: Toby Parkes Mrs. Parker: Liz Smith Rosie Jones: Emilia Fox Mr. Brown: James Booth Bob – Pond Workman: Patrick Monckton Ted – Pond Workman: Rowley Irlam Mrs. Martin: Vivienne Moore Vicar’s Convention Master of Ceremonies: Murray McArthur Reverend Campbell: Morgan Gower Billy Martin the Bully: Rupert Simonian Train Ticket Collector: Alex MacQueen Policeman on Train: Paul Viragh Police Interrogator: Tony Denham Judge: Roger Hammond Mark – Boyfriend #2: Andrew Thomas Jones David – Boyfriend #1: Jack Ryan Grant the Goth – Boyfriend #3: Nazim Kourgli Jereny Z – Boyfriend #4: Jack Zimmermann TV Chat Show Presenter: Terry Alderton TV Chat Show Pundit #1: David Schaal TV Chat Show Pundit #2: Chrissie Cotterill Billy Martin’s Gang: Rory Dorling Billy Martin’s Gang: Max Murley Billy Martin’s Gang: James Galloway Film Crew: Screenplay: Niall Johnson Producer: Julia Palau Author: Richard Russo Music: Dickon Hinchliffe Director of Photography: Gavin Finney Production Design: Crispian Sallis Costume Design: Victoria Russell Production Manager: Ray Freeborn Executive Producer: Steve Christian Producer: Noel Donnellon Associate Producer: Peter Fudakowski Executive Producer: David Garrett Executive Producer: Bertil Ohlsson Producer: Matthew Payne Executive Producer: Marc Samuelson Executive Producer: Anne Sheehan Executive Producer: Steve Wilkinson Co-Producer: Nigel Wooll Editor: Robin Sales Casting: Andrea Clark Casting: Jeremy Zimmermann Makeup & Hair: Darren Evans Makeup Artist: Nicola Matthews Makeup & Hair: Aileen Seaton Makeup & Hair: Joan Stribling Set Decoration: Neesh Ruben ADR Mixer: Sandy Buchanan Sound Recordist: Colin Codner Foley Artist: Howard Eaves Dialogue Editor: Sarah Morton Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Brendan Nicholson Foley Recordist: Richard Straker Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Richard Street Foley Artist: Ruth Sullivan Foley Artist: Trevor Swanscott ADR Mixer: Ian Tapp ADR Mixer: Kevin Tayler Movie Reviews:

[still-single]

New Heathen Discos / more reviews to follow

Some radio shows to ease your troubled minds.

Episode #296 (June 12, 2022)

HOUR 1

Flanger Magazine – Sympathies to the River

David Nance – Amethyst

Kikagaku Moyo – Effe

Azita – Bruxism

Tommy James and the Shondells – Crimson and Clover

Cocteau Twins – Lorelei

Weird Nightmare – Sunday Driver

Eggs – This Party Never Ends

Cyrus Pireh – Adomono Tone Control

Magazine – The Light Pours Out of Me

HOUR 2

The Neon Judgement – The Fashion Party

Beau Wanzer – Blood Type Gravey

The Gruesome Twosome – Hallucination Generation (Joker’s Revenge Edit)

Alan Vega – Saturn Drive

Dharma – Dreams of a Final Theory

Chevalier Avant Garde – The Killing Fields

Green-House – Produce Aisle

The Stroppies – Material Condition

Kitchen’s Floor – Haunted Houses

Sorcery – Woman

Rats – Mainhorse Cowboy

Estus – On the Wings

Freda Payne – I Get High

Roller – Homunculus

HOUR 3

The Modern Lovers – Don’t Let Our Youth Go to Waste / Dance with Me

Nite Fields – Take My Side

à;GRUMH… - Another Brick in the Wall Part II

Midas – One O One

Bomb the Bass – Don’t Make Me Wait

L/F/D/M – Midnight Muscle

Penza Penza – Merman

Linton Kwesi Johnson – Reggae fi Dada

Glenn Branca – The Ascension

BABY? – Babbling Brook (Vintage Dust)

Forest Management – Liminal Suite Pt. 2

The Velvet Underground – I Found a Reason

Episode #295 (June 5, 2022)

HOUR 1

The Leather Nun – Slow Death

Afrorack – Last Modular

Astaron – As Time Joins In

TSAP – Vile Corporation

Danse Macabre – The Voice of Bulgaria (instrumental)

Brian Case – Our Ruin

Horsegirl – Homage to Birdnoculars

Long Odds – Not Enough Stars

John & Beverley Martyn – Auntie Aviator

Smoke Bellow – Maybe Something

Rose Mercie – Sweet Place

Daniel Villarreal – 18th and Morgan

Steve Hillage – Musick of the Trees / Palm Trees (Love Guitar)

HOUR 2

Vivienne Styg – Leather Love

Jess Scott – Climbing Numbers

Dick Diver – Private Number

Microdisney – Town to Town

The Party of Helicopters – Neverending Cycle

Tar – Goethe (live)

Rudimentary Peni – Vampire State Building / Blasphemy Squad

New Age Steppers – Fade Away

Forest Management – One After Another

Fievel Is Glauque – Decoy

Cookie Jar – Far Out As Near As Can Be

The Neon Judgement – Hot Sally

Roller – Habit Man Zero

The Arms of Someone New – No City Fun

Kim Phuc – Razorblades

Cyrus Pireh – Message of Universal Solidarity

Goblin – Tenebre

HOUR 3

Mr. Big Mouse – Duck the Mouse (Ascorbic Acid Mix)

Tomaga – Very Never (My Mind Extends)

System 56 – They’re Only Dreaming

Construction Crew – Break That Beat (That Noise Mix)

Heavenly Bodies – Rains on Me (extended mix)

Brandon Coleman – We Change (Part 1)

Chronophage – Spirit Armor

Doramaar – Monestrial

Blue Öyster Cult – Don’t Fear the Reaper (demo)

Episode #294 (May 29, 2022)

HOUR 1

Mess Esque – Sweet Spot

Just Mustard – Seed

Bardo Pond – Don’t Know About You

Mosquitoes – Outlines

Th’ Faith Healers – Love Song

Penza Penza – Merman

Siouxsie & the Banshees – Hybrid

Th Blisks – I Don’t Fade

Anne Clark – Counter Act (instrumental)

Apiento featuring Harriet Brown – Down That Road (Apiento & Tepper Dubbed It)

Depeche Mode – Nothing

Winged Wheel – Central Ceiling

Felt – All the People I Like Are Those That Are Dead

HOUR 2

Zusammen Clark – Rest Position

Comet Gain – Allende

The Go-Betweens – Head Full of Steam

Bailter Space – Robot World

Neu! – Hallogallo

Green-House – Flora Urbana Absumpto

Stephanie Mills – What Cha Gonna Do With My Lovin’ (12” version)

Paul Haig – Blue for You

Sleep D – Twin Turbo

Wally Badarou – Hi-Life

Silver Apples – Lovefingers

Tommaso Moretti – ESM

Viva L’American Death Ray Music – Getting Better

HOUR 3

Mura – Younger Brother

Mary Lattimore and Paul Sukeena – Altar of Tammy

Small World Experience – Side Projects

The Garbage and the Flowers – On the Radio

The Breeders – When I Was a Painter

Delivery – Personal Effects

Ebi Soda – Pseudocreme

Vacant Gardens – Field of Vines

Spread Joy – Discomfort Is Palpable

Sparks – At Home At Work At Play

Severed Heads – Halo

Chris & Cosey – Until

James Brown – I Can’t Stand It “76”

Best Bets – The Point

Yo La Tengo – Deeper into Movies

Episode #293 (May 20, 2022)

*insert image of Wednesday Addams here*

HOUR 1

STRING – Plus Operator

Maya Hardinge – Living Behind Smoke

Trisomie 21 – Jakarta

Bauhaus – Stigmata Martyr

Levon Vincent – Tubular Bells

For Against – Loud and Clear

The Cure – Object

The Scissor Girls – D1 Test (Cracked Swanreons)

Crime of Passing – Ways of Hiding

Automelodi – Angoisses D’Orléac

Winged Wheel – Central Ceiling

Austra – Beat and the Pulse (extended mix)

HOUR 2

A Split - Second – Close Combat

Fad Gadget – Lady Shave

ADULT. – I Am Nothing

16-17 – Davul

Cairo Pythian – Puce Cross

The Birthday Party – Junkyard

Kelly Lee Owens – S.O (2)

Modal Melodies – Standing Still

The Terminals – Hide Yourself Away

The Glove – Looking-Glass Girl

Ashrae Fax – Decaax

Xmal Deutschland – Nachtschatten

The Veil – Manikin (extended mix)

Whatever the Weather – 25° C

HOUR 3

The Wedding Present – Never Said

Prefab Sprout – Desire As

Shirley & Dolly Collins – Rambleaway

Roller – Au (Gold)

My Bloody Valentine – Feed Me With Your Kiss

The Litter – Breakfast at Gardenson’s / Future of the Past

Green-House – Mycorrhizare Dreams

Deep Tunnel Project – Elysian Fields

Spiritual Mafia (ft. Alan Partridge) – Bath Boy (30 Mil From My Gland remix)

The Hazmats – Empty Rooms

Drive Like Jehu – Super Unison

Marley Marl feat. Biz Markie and Heavy D – We Write the Songs

2022 Demo

Book me to play records at yours.

[starlightpixels]

The Pond Siblings Charlotte "Charlie" Ximena McBryde, 30 (Left) Vivienne "Viv" Elena Pond, 27 (Middle) Arthur "Art" James Pond (Jr.), 23 (Right)

[the-diary-of-vivienne]

[wellthebardsdead]

Pffft omg no im imagining Voryns scouts (assassins) finding them first and of course their first initial instinct is to panic because fuck vivec is right there! So they try to save steren and end up getting their asses whipped by steren himself plus team dragonborn because Vivi is still recovering. They turn up battered and bruised back to voryn and nerevar and the poor bastards are so confused like “I think he’s hypnotised him l-lord dagoth- I can confirm he’s got the hortators left swing though. Kohl is missing a tooth and my underling has a black eye.”

But yeah when they all finally meet Steren would be so protective of Vivi and suspicious of EVERYONE outside of their group. Meanwhile Vivi would be distraught trying to push steren to his parents because now everyone thinks he’s vivec and he’s trying to seduce the hortators son 😭

But omggggggg!!! Steren finding vivienne in the lotus pond after he runs away, poor Vivi is so exhausted he just falls asleep in the shallow water after crying his heart out and he’s just so pretty and steren is so angry and heartbroken to see him hurting but also pretty abf he hmogsatlkgsfffffff!!!

me: [siting an doodling]

brain: hey

me: oh god no

brain: what if. vivi au. from bambi.

me: dont even start

brain: but steren gets told his parents will be alive in this universe by azura. he just has to find them

me: please shut uppppp

brain: and mephala interferes and drops him in skyrim super early in vivi's adventure before vivienne even knows who he is. meanwhile neht and ryn are just getting memories from a different timeline of a son they had and freaking out looking for him when they get the word azura and boethia are fighting over vivec and azura lets it loose that mephala interfered and drop neht and ryn's son with vivec so now everyone is fighting and scrambling to get to skyrim

me: this is chaotic nonsense.

me: why are you STILL making me think about it im not gonna write two of these aus

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

To Dance With Danger | Jurdan Whump Fic

Anon asked: “Can you write something about how Jude gets hurt somewhere and the Court of Shadows and Cardan go looking for her.”

Summary: These feelings lingered, dripping as fresh wounds. He felt them all anew. “I wish it had been me instead,” Cardan said.

Rating: T

CW: No content warnings. Just broken hearts.

Part I    |    Part II    |    AO3    |    Masterlist

Part III- From the Woods

The High King of Elfhame was overwrought and pacing.

In the sitting room of the royal chambers, time became a blur of hushed voices and pitying looks, little clay cups filled with tea and a panoply of offerings. Everything from handkerchiefs to the strongest wines from the farthest bowels of the palace cellar, shoved in front of him as if they beheld some magical cure to the awfulness of what he was feeling.

They did not.

Cardan knew the oblations were meant as comforts, but he didn’t want them. There was a sickly feeling in his stomach. It curdled like bad milk and guilt, and only made the consoling worse.

So the High King refused everything, even the wine. Wine was what he used when he could afford to feel nothing, and this was not one of those occasions. A twisted part of him wanted to soak in every horror of the last day—to make a tender meal of pain.

It was the least of what he deserved.

Cardan was busy wearing a faded track into the great ornate rug in the sitting room, tail lashing back and forth, when Vivienne showed up.

The eldest Duarte flew into the antechamber, face sallow with panic. Suddenly, every explanation Cardan had mulled over these many hours burst in his head like overripe fruit when he grasped for them.

How could he explain this to Vivi when he could hardly explain it to himself? How could he tell her that he’d stood by as Jude stumbled to the brink of death, yet again?

So, Cardan stood frozen near the bookshelf at the opposite end of the room, watching Vivi cross the length of it. Her hair was plastered to the sides of her face, the mortal clothes she wore soaked through as if she’d rode through a torrent to get there.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a heavily pregnant woman entered.

Cardan stilled. For a heart stopping moment, it was Jude coming through those doors in a gown of dusky rose that swished about her ankles like bulrushes when she walked—one hand resting protectively over her swollen belly.

A ludicrous thought, if he’d ever had one. Jude was not pregnant, at least as far as Cardan was aware. He frowned.

Always he’d been able to tell his wife from her twin. Only when his wits had been poison addled and bewitched by Grimsen’s monstrosity earrings had he ever mistaken one for the other.  Now, it was some cruel taunt his mind had spun up from its sleep-deprived and fraying edges.

A lump nestled right in Cardan’s throat. He was unable to meet Taryn’s eyes after that.

“How is she?” Vivi asked as they approached.

Cardan swept up a sprig of baby’s breath from a cut crystal vase on the bookshelf and swallowed. “I do not know.” He leaned back against the wall. “They have barred the door to everyone.”

Vivi’s mouth set into a hard line. “Even you?”

“Especially me,” he said, voice stretched taut. He twirled the stem between his fingers. “The Bomb forbade it.”

“Forbade?” Vivi’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead.

Taryn looked like he’d told her something offensive.

“Well, not expressly. But the implication was clear enough,” he told them, which made Vivi’s face turn a half-amused expression, though Cardan could not imagine why. He lolled his head back against the wall, looking down the bridge of his nose at the pair of them. “I would be too overcome by my emotions to be of any use.”

“You’re the High King, though,” Vivi said, as if he needed reminding. “If you want to be in there, you need only demand it.”

“Yes,” Cardan sighed. “But alas, I’m afraid she is right. I would only get in the way.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. A shrill, sharp pain had started in his feet.

The sitting room was not devoid of places to sit, by any means.

There were several cushioned chairs of fern-green velvet, a handful of upholstered stools dotted about, a large plushy sofa by the fireplace. In the corner, sat a divan crafted to look like a mermaid lying on its side in the waves—an opulent wedding gift from Nicasia, if not a bit on the nose.

Even the rug he’d been pacing probably would not be so bad to sit on.

Instead, Cardan slid down the wall, taking up a spot on the floor. Vivi followed suit, sitting cross-legged in her wet jeans and hoodie on the carpet. Taryn perched herself atop a small cushioned stool, surprisingly prim for a woman at her ripe stage of gestation.

They sat together in exhausted quiet. Runny green light from the wall sconces made the room seem bathed in faerie wine. A pixie with citrine hair brought a towel to Vivi, who was doing a good job of dripping a small pond onto the rug.

Cardan hadn’t cared enough to notice.

Vivi gave an appreciative nod to the chamber maid and began patting her hair with the towel. The pixie returned a few moments later with a tea tray, and placed it on a nearby bench before making her exit.

Cardan peeled at the stem in his hands. Taryn fidgeted with the tassels on her stool. Vivi dried herself as best she could, observing the High King while she worked. He could feel her curious stare as he tore off little blooms and scattered them across the floor.

“How are you, Cardan?” Vivi finally asked.

He picked another white bud. “How do I look?”

“Like death.”

Cardan furrowed his brows. “I feel much worse than that.”

In the last day, such a riot of emotions had lay siege to him, he could hardly tell one from the next. They all smeared together, like someone had swiped a hand through the oil painting of his mind.

“What happened?” Taryn said, when a moment had passed.

Unable to lie and unable to give a concise excuse for Jude’s plight, Cardan began to recount the day’s tale. How it had all started with a deceptive note and had quickly spiraled into a horror from hell.

Leaving out his personal sentiments did nothing to ward them off. The fear that something had happened to Jude, the dread he’d felt when he figured out where his wife had truly gone, the terror of finding her in her grave state. Anger, too. Flashes of it, hot and streaking across his fretful night like stars.

These feelings lingered, dripping as fresh wounds.

He felt them all anew.

“I wish it had been me instead,” Cardan said, at last.

Speaking everything aloud, he felt no less awful, but he was far less alone. The stem of baby’s breath in his hands was now just a stem; having picked off all the blooms and leaves. Silence draped heavy festoons in the air around them.

When Cardan glanced up, Taryn was giving him a strange look.

“Have I told the story wrong?” He asked her, adust. Whatever Taryn was piecing together in her head, she need not gawk. He was tired of all the gawking, the tiptoeing. As if he was a thin layer of ice and not the whole frozen lake.

“It is no small thing to offer your life in someone’s stead,” Taryn pointed out. “Especially when you could live forever. Even more so when you are bound by your word.”

“Well, and I would,” Cardan said. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Unfortunately, no amount of words or promises from me will make it so.”

Taryn folded her hands in her lap. “You must love her very much.” Then, hastily amended, “I knew you cared for her, of course. I just did not know how deeply.”

Cardan blinked. He was unsure of whether to be glad for his transparency now, in such dire circumstances, or offended that anyone had doubted the depth of his feelings for his wife in the first place.

He was saved from deciding when the doors to the chamber opened.

Cardan, Vivi, and Taryn scrambled to their feet. Two nurses exited the royal bedroom, one with great horns sweeping skyward from the crown of her head, the other with brown feathered wings sprouting from his back. They kept their expressions carefully neutral, and closed the doors behind them.

“Any news?” Taryn asked, breathless.

Cardan could barely breathe, himself.

“Her Majesty is stable, my Ladies. Your Majesty,” the horned nurse replied, giving the High King a polite curtsy. The entire room seemed to exhale, at once. “The doctor will be out shortly to oversee your visitation.” With that, the nurses quit the chambers.

Cardan’s eyes flitted to the large oak doors of their bedroom. They suddenly seemed very small and very far away.

Cardan felt a hand alight on his shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking.” Vivienne’s voice came to him. Ripping his focus from the doors, he turned to face her fully.

Vivi’s cat eyes nearly glowed in the verdant light. “This is not your fault, you know.”

“Isn’t it?” Cardan lifted a brow. “Jude is my wife. We are supposed to tell each other things. I have little doubt she knew the danger, and yet, she did not tell me of this. What does that say about me?”

“It says more about Jude, I think.”

At that moment, the Bomb slipped out of the bedroom, carrying a basket of bloody rags. She placed it on a lectern, close by. “I had to put her under with a sleeping draught,” she told them, eyes darting from face to face. “She’s still out, but she will recover eventually. You may see her now.”

Taryn and Vivi rushed for the doors without hesitation. When Cardan made to follow, the Bomb held out a hand to stop him.

“I should like to speak with you alone, Your Majesty,” she said in a low voice. Her gaze was sharp, turned shard-like by fatigue and worry. “I have to tell you something.”

Cardan’s heart sunk low in his chest. Whatever news the Bomb bore, he suspected it was not happy. She glanced toward the door, making sure Vivi and Taryn were well inside the room, before turning back to him.

“What is it, Liliver?” Cardan dreaded the answer before it came.

The Bomb pursed her lips. “It’s about something Jude said. Right before she went under.”

☽☽☽☽☽

The High Queen of Elfhame was dreaming. She was sure of it because her husband, whom she was fairly certain resented her dearly, was reading something aloud.

She heard the fluttering of pages. Perhaps it was their terms of annulment.

His voice came soft and muffled, as if through several closed doors. “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.’”

That was indeed how his voice sounded. Like a downy quilt, cocooning her. Through the thick sludge of sleep, she wondered if, after everything, he could still love her as the snow did the trees.

☽☽☽☽☽

When Jude woke once more, she was too warm. A sheen of sweat clung to her skin like morning dew. Or, more probably, like a layer of dirt. A film she couldn’t quite pare.

It felt like she hadn’t bathed in a week.

She recognized the royal chambers. The great sweep of their bed; the large cherrywood wardrobe where they kept all their clothes, heaps of chiffon and lace spilling out of looking glass doors. The writing desk by the window, a mess of papers and ink pots.

On the beside table, there sat the well-worn copy of a familiar two-book bind-up she’d once pilfered from Hollow Hall.

Everything was quiet. Still. Only the crackle and low amber light from the fire filled the room. Apparently, everyone had vacated.

Everyone, except for one person.

He sat next to the bed in a chair, scooted right up close so he could hold her hand. He was holding her hand in both of his, head bowed to press against them on the mattress. His hair stuck up, every which way, as if he’d been raking anxious hands through it.

Jude felt her heart hitch in her chest.

“Your hair looks like a coppice,” she croaked.

Cardan’s head snapped up. He stared at her with bleak eyes, rimmed in red fatigue. He was staring at her, not saying anything; but he was holding her hand, and that was all that mattered.

Then, he dropped it.

Which was the opposite of what she wanted.

Jude surveyed him more closely. The dim light threw shadows across Cardan’s face that made him appear more haggard than she’d ever seen him, though still ruinously beautiful.

He was looking at her like if he blinked, she might turn to dust.

After a long moment, Jude cleared her throat. “How long have I been out?” Speaking felt sand-papery, but she had to say something.

“Three days,” Cardan murmured.

Her brows snapped up. Had it really been that long? She must have been completely unconscious for a lot of it.

Her muscles did feel stiff. She tried to stretch, but winced, remembering her leg. It didn’t hurt, not like before. Now, it was a mere dull throb.

Jude dared a look down.

Her trousers and tunic had been removed, replaced with a thin, white nightgown. Her left knee was wrapped in a heavy chrysalis of bandages and propped up by a pillow.

“The Bomb stitched it up,” Cardan informed her.

“What about my magic?”

“The magic only works if you remember you have it.”

Right. The glimpses. They could make you forget your very person. It was likely they could make one forget the powers they possessed, as well.

“What about your magic?”

Cardan shook his head. “Only you can heal yourself, Jude.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Jude misliked the idea of her husband speaking in double. No matter how right he was.

Cardan’s eyes stole across her face. “There’s, um…” His bottom lip wobbled. “A coat of peppermint leaves under the bandages. For the pain.”

Jude had never seen him at such a loss for words. Nor so distraught. Her heart ached at the worry lines on his face, that trembling lower lip. She’d never cared overmuch about her own pain. Only his. She wanted to smooth it all away with her thumb, her lips.

Instead, she reached for his hand.

Cardan sat up straight, the wooden legs of the chair groaning as he drew back. He dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling out the curls. He seemed to be gathering himself, spooling himself back in.

Something bobbed in Jude’s throat.

“What happened?” She meant it in the sense of how they’d come to find her, but maybe she was speaking in double, too.

When Cardan looked at her, his eyes were dark, like the way it might feel to swallow a cold stone. “What happened, Jude,” he said with frightful calm, “Is that you lied.” He pulled a piece of folded up parchment out of his pocket and cast it onto the duvet.

“What’s this?” she asked, picking it up.

“Your note.”

Jude winced. She’d completely forgotten.

“A lie of omission, to be sure,” Cardan said, “But which was also very nearly a lie in earnest.” The temper in his eyes seemed to eddy, a roll of thunder through a storm cloud, pinioning her to the spot.

Jude knew which words he meant.

I won’t bore you by dying.

She’d scrawled them across the paper in such haste to depart, she hadn’t thought about the implication if she failed to return. Now, it seemed glaringly obvious.  

She pressed her lips together, then folded the paper back up. “You’re angry with me.”

“That,” Cardan scowled, “Is a gross understatement, I assure you. And entirely irrelevant to the heart of the matter.”

Her brows knitted together. It unsettled her, not knowing his meaning.

“How could you do it?” He wondered, and Jude’s eyes went wide.

Suddenly, she was back in the cave, fever dreams flitting before her eyes. Locke. Valerian. Balekin. Cardan. All looking down at her in disgust. Her stomach roiled, as if it might turn itself inside out all over the coverlets.

Jude reeled, but she was no coward. This was the conversation they ought to have. Except, she hadn’t prepared any words, and she hadn’t caught a glimpse. So how was she to explain herself?

She was wholly unprepared for this. She was wholly unprepared for Cardan to hate her again.

“I- I don’t know.” Her voice quavered. “I was so angry. So full of hatred. It just happened.”

“If I had known, Jude…” Cardan blew out a breath, looking down at the floor. “You should have said something. I did not know.”

Which was confusing. Had he somehow found out about Balekin, and what she’d seen him do to Cardan? Had someone told him of everything Balekin had done in the Undersea? There was a part of her that would feel glad if she did not have to speak to it.

But then, why had Cardan asked for an explanation?

Jude turned a wary eye on him, but found his face unreadable. “I was afraid to tell you,” she said.

The corners of his mouth turned down and he fixed her with a long look. “If you are unhappy here, Jude,” Cardan said in a strained sort of voice, “If you are unhappy with your life as Queen, or unsatisfied by your life with me in any way, you need only say it. I would never hold you against your will. I would not begrudge you or bring you harm for leaving, if that is what you so choose.”

Nothing of what her husband was saying made any sense to Jude. Her head was spinning.

“But do you truly hate me so much,” he continued, “That you would risk your life to voice your discontent?”

“Discontent?” Jude’s brows drew together. “Cardan, what are you talking about? This is my home. I am happy here.”

“You don’t have to lie anymore, Jude.” His tone was needled with such derision that Jude almost flinched. Cardan’s features turned knifelike.

She balled her fists at her sides. “I’m not lying,” she huffed, her cheeks blooming with heat. “If this is some sort of trick to get me to leave again, I swear to—”

“It’s no trick,” he interrupted. “The Bomb told me what you said.”

“And what, exactly, did I say?” Jude clenched her jaw, defiant, spearing him her most ruthless glare.

I will always be a challenge, she had promised Lady Asha many moons ago.

She might be mortal, unbeholden to her words, but that had been a promise Jude intended on keeping. She would not go quietly, if that was her husband’s hope.

“‘Tell him that I hated him. Tell him that’s why I did it.’” The words seem to grit at Cardan’s teeth as he said them. Then, his eyes shuttered, and squeezed shut. He ran a hand down his face. When he spoke again, his voice held none of the contempt it had before. “I knew you hated me, once. I did not know how deep that well still ran. You must hate me a great deal, however, for it to be your dying wish to tell me.”

Oh.

Oh, no. They had sorely misunderstood one another. There was a largeness rising like a parachute in Jude’s throat.

“Cardan,” she choked out, “I don’t— That’s not what I… Come here.” She held out her hand, reaching for him.

Cardan looked at her like she held a poison apple in her palm. Like she was a death trap. Maybe she was. She certainly felt like it sometimes.

“Please,” she rasped.

The High King assessed her for so long, Jude thought he might very well reject her. To her surprise, however, he stood from his chair and circled the bed slow.

Cardan slid onto the duvet with her but remained sitting upright, leaning back against the headboard. He’d left ample space between them. Enough so that he did not feel any closer.

To Jude, that short span of satin sheets was a wide chasm. She hated every inch of it.

It would be a small thing, she thought, to close that distance. To take him into her arms. Instead, Jude twisted as much as she could without sending a spike of pain through her knee, and scooped one of his hands into hers. She fiddled with the rings on his fingers.

“You’ve mistaken me,” Jude said, suddenly feeling very shy. “I did not go to catch a glimpse because I hate you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Cardan gave her a blank stare. “I am not sure I know your meaning.”

A movement behind him caught Jude’s eye. The dark tuft at the end of his tail. It whipped through the air, to and fro.

Jude gnawed at her bottom lip. “I am not good at conveying the depth of my feelings.” She traced a thumb down the centre of his palm. “I am much better at showing them.”

He shivered at the touch. “I know.”

“At the revel a few nights ago,” Jude recalled, “A courtier asked me to dance, and I got flustered. You stepped in, which I was very grateful for, and you told him that I do not heed the requests of others.”

I’m afraid heeding requests, even my own, is the singular skill which evades my wife’s grand arsenal.

When Cardan did not reply, she barreled on, for Jude would rather do that than look him in the eye.

“It reminded me of one such request you made long ago—a request I was unable to heed.” Jude paused, steeling herself. “For a while now, I have been contemplating how best to explain my defiance. So when I saw the glimpsing fog, I thought it would be better to show you in a way that removes all doubt. ”

Understanding was dawning across Cardan’s face when she peeked at him. He shook his head, incredulous, then shifted so that he was lying down on his side. He laid his head on the pillow next to hers.

“I cannot fathom why I would doubt you if you told me,” Cardan said, softly. His pine sweet breath fanned over her face.

“Because I am mortal.” Jude frowned. “I can lie.”

“Yes,” he said. “You can also be quite nonsensical for so sensical a woman. Don’t you know by now that I trust your word over most everyone’s?”

“I can’t see why you would,” she muttered. “I am the most capable out of anyone of deception.”  

His eyes bore into hers. “And yet, I trust you, Jude.” Even if he were able to lie, she could not deny him this.

Through their past, Jude could see every time Cardan had put his trust in her hands so very clearly, like fulgent pinpricks in her night sky—a bright needlework of stars. And threaded through with darkness was every time she’d betrayed that trust.

How dark his sky must be, how starless.

“I do wonder, however,” Cardan said, “What I’d need do to earn yours. Tell me what it is and I will do it, if you’ll let me. For I should very much like to try.”

Jude thought about trust and all its requisites. How trusting someone other than herself felt very much like throwing herself off a cliff. Or pitching herself into a raging sea. Or falling in love with someone you’d vowed to hate.

She looked at Cardan, the planes of his face, sharp edges casting shadows in the lambency. Their fingers lay on the bedspread, laced together.

He made no move to draw away.

Maybe trust and love were the same thing. They were, at the very least, similitudes of each other. Mirrored objects. Both felt like losing control, though Jude had never been very good at that.

She thought about Cardan and how he’d oft lose himself in faerie wine and revelry. How even though he had known bare scraps of affection as a child, he’d been undaunted in the face of love.

Jude envied him, just a little, his ability to throw himself to the fray. To glory in that great tailspin.

It was certainly much braver than swinging a sword at your enemies every time they crossed you. That was brave too, but there was more certainty in it—a tangible aim, like throwing a bridle over the yawning head of fear and pulling it tight so that you might feel in control.

Jude felt a gentle nudge at her leg. Though there was still space between them, Cardan’s tail had come to curl around her calf.

There was a greater kind of bravery, Jude thought, in feeling every flayed nerve of fear, and not letting it control you. Maybe that was cutting off the head of the serpent.

“I love you,” Jude blurted.

Cardan blinked at her once, before his ink-slick eyes went globelike. “While that relieves me enormously to hear, my love,” he breathed, “I’m afraid it does little to help me understand.”

“That’s why I went to catch a glimpse,” she said, “And why I killed him.” Then, it all came rushing out of her on the crest of a breath, as if it had been living in her lungs this whole time. “I love you and I killed Balekin when you asked me not to and I don’t feel sorry for it. I don’t even feel a little bit guilty, because he deserved to die, but I hate the pain it caused you and I hate myself for being the one who caused it and I love you.”

When she finished, Jude clamped her mouth shut, not feeling the least bit comforted by her admission.

Her heartbeat a melee against her ribcage. She was both tense and heavy, at once. Saying it outright was more exhausting than almost dying. Which maybe should have concerned her more than it did.

Cardan had gone still as a stone next to her. “You went to catch a glimpse,” he murmured, “Because you wanted to show me why you killed Balekin.”

She nodded. “I knew that if I could catch one, it could show you the irrefutable truth of what I saw him do to you, what he did to me in the Undersea, how horrible he was. How all of those things made me betray you and how it was not at all out of spite.”

Jude drew a ragged breath. She felt raw, exposed. She sagged under the weight of it.

Rain tapped unsure fingers on the window. The fire in the hearth was down to the embers, consuming itself from the inside out.

“But I have not managed even that, and now…You must hate me,” she said to the coverlets, because it was easier to speculate with inanimate objects than to bear witness to Cardan’s expression.

“No.” A long, cool finger crooked under her chin, tilting it so she met his gaze again. “You’ve mistaken me, my love. I do not hate you. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Cardan stroked a thumb down the line of her jaw.

Her heart faltered. “Well,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “That is a relief.”

“Oh Jude,” Cardan said, and then he was closing that distance between them on the bed, cradling her against his chest. Jude slid her arms around him, holding him with as much fervency.

She breathed in his mossy scent and really, really hoped this was not another fever dream. Or if it was, that she would never get well again.

“I thought you knew,” Cardan whispered into her hair. “I forgave you long ago, my love. I thought you knew it was not your fault.”

Jude leaned back to give him a bemused look, but Cardan’s face was wholly sober.

“You’re serious?” She gaped at him. “Cardan. I killed him.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I drove a knife through his throat.”

“I’m aware.” Cardan narrowed his eyes. “Though, if you could be so kind as to spare me the rest of the details, I’d rather not hear them.”

She ignored that last jab, well and truly at a loss. “How is that not my fault?”

“It is certainly your doing, Jude,” he said, “But I don’t believe any of us could have shielded Balekin from his own demise.”

“You mean, because he was a traitorous bastard?”

Cardan snorted. “I daresay that’s part of it, yes,” he said. “Though, I think fate and magic had a good hand in it, as well.”

“How do you mean?”

“Do you remember the crown’s curse?”

“The one that made you turn into a snake?” She gave him an incredulous look. “Yes, of course. I don’t really like to reminisce about it.”

“Not that one,” Cardan said, a wraithlike smile tugging at his lips. “The other one. The curse that would befall the person who murdered the crown’s wearer.”

Dulcamara’s words from a time long past echoed through her pool of memory. The crown is cursed so that a murder of its wearer causes the death of the person responsible.

Jude squinted at him. “But Eldred wasn’t wearing the crown when he was murdered.”

“He wasn’t.” Cardan tilted his head to the side, considering. “But he was its wearer in every other sense of the word. Until he placed the crown on another’s head, it would have been tied to him.”

“If that’s true,” she said, “Why didn’t he do something? Why didn’t he stop Balekin?”

“My father had been ingesting poison unwittingly for months before the coronation,” he reminded her.

Jude grimaced. That particular revelation in the Court of Shadows had brought shock to them all.

“He was weak,” Cardan said. “As a result, so was his magic.”

She recalled the flowers on the throne, withering to brown and falling onto the dais during Balekin’s coup. She’d thought that it had signified Eldred’s loss of magic, but perhaps Cardan was right. Perhaps it was the very opposite.

“So you’re saying,” Jude said slowly, trying to puzzle out the meaning of what he was telling her, “That my killing Balekin was because of Grimsen’s curse?”

She was not sure whether to feel offended or relieved. The idea of being a pawn, much less when it was without her knowledge, was a dislikeful one. Worse still, if it served Grimsen’s foul design. Jude could not deny, however, that such a curse would exonerate her in a more concrete way than a glimpse ever could.

Maybe she should be grateful that her husband was so astute.

“I was only suggesting.” Cardan gave a lazy, one-shouldered shrug, his curls spilling onto the pillow. “Whether or not there is truth to the theory, I cannot be sure. But I do not fault you for his death, either way.”

“I appreciate that,” she said, quiet, into their small sphere of reality.

It was unfair, really; the way he was looking at her in all his vicious beauty.

“You scared me again,” Cardan said, taking one of her hands in his. “It was like watching you fall from the rafters all over. And then, I was afraid you hated me again.” She marveled at his touch, his confession.

“I do not hate you, Cardan,” Jude said. “And when I do hate you, it’s because I love you very much, and you have done something incredibly stupid.”

A laugh burst from his lips. “I do not have to wonder how that feels,” he said, and Jude’s heart gave a great squeeze.

Maybe sharing their fears was a little like taking off armor. They may only do it in this room, in this bed, but it was a comfort all the same. If there was anyone who deserved her unguarded, Jude knew it was him.

“I was afraid you resented me,” she told him in a small voice.

“I do not resent you.” Cardan shook his head. “Not even a little.”

“So, what you said at the revel, about heeding requests…”

“That,” he said, black eyes glittering, “Was about you being obstinate in the face of everyone’s wishes but your own. A quality which you needn’t have proved, on account of most people knowing it to be true, but which you insisted on proving, nonetheless, by frolicking straight into a Glimpsing Fog.”

“I was never actually in the fog,” Jude grumbled. “And I most certainly did not frolic.”

“I cannot express to you how much I don’t care for semantics right now.”

Jude couldn’t help the impish grin twisting at her mouth.

“Why are you smiling?” Cardan asked, beleaguered.

“I’d forgotten how fussy you get when you’re worried.”

He gave her a bewildered look. “You almost died, Jude.”

“It’s just nice,” she said, shrugging, “To be fussed over.” After a moment, she added, “We never had much of that with Madoc.”

He sighed at that and pulled her close again. “Worried and fussy are the least of what I am.”

Jude pillowed her head on his chest. She could hear the erratic beat of his heart.

“What are you then?”

“Beside myself.” Cardan said. “Driven mad. Terrified.”

“Semantics.”

“Regardless, I much prefer you terrify me in your usual ways.”

She angled her head towards him. “With knives and swords?”

“Don’t forget claws and sharp teeth.”

Her grin turned mischievous. “I don’t think I’ll have any problem heeding that request.”

“Later,” Cardan said, kissing her forehead.

“How much later?”

He arched a brow at her, fixing her with a pointed look. “You need to rest, Jude.”

“Okay,” Jude sighed, eyes lingering on his mouth.

It was most certainly not okay, but there was the small matter of her leg and her almost death to contend with. Jude reckoned she’d have to fight tooth and nail to lift a finger anywhere in the palace for the foreseeable future. Much less do anything strenuous.

So they lay like that for a long while, limbs tangled together as roots. Taking each other in like air into lungs. A tender thing floated, diaphanous and shimmering in the air between them.

Above their heads, blue bellflowers and deep plum hollyhocks blossomed, beautiful spangles of petals bursting from the loam. Cardan glanced at the wall, his mouth a crescent moon. When he regarded her again, it was slowly; bewondered.

Jude slid her gaze to his. There, she found two mirrors.

There, she was reflected.

☽☽☽☽☽

If you want to know more about Cardan’s theory, read this Jude is Balekin’s curse theory

Last Part

Liked this? Try:  You Are  |  Kiwi  |  King

Masterlist

Title Inspo: From the Woods by James Vincent McMorrow

AN: Wow, this has been such an epic journey/test of my writerly will. This final part took me more than a month to write, but I have to say, I’m thrilled with the result. To everyone who found this fic when it was still in its first stages, and sent me so much love and encouragement to see it through, I can never thank you enough for taking the time to reach out and tell me your thoughts, or just generally express your excitement. It meant the world. And to the nonnie who requested, I thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this!

If you enjoyed this please let me know in the form of comments, reblogs, keyboard smashes, messages, and/or asks. I truly do read and appreciate every single one. If you’d like to be tagged in any future Jurdan content, let me know and I’ll add you to the tag list!

Back to the forest now. -Em 🖤💫

Tag List: @velarhysismine​ @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte​ @knifewifejude​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @jurdanhell​ @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @hizqueen4life​ @nite0wl29​ @mysweetvilllain​ @thesirenwashere​ @babycardan @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ @queenofgreenbriar​ @pilesofriles​ 

[bbytetsu]

HAIKYUU!! AESTHETICS: NEKOMA + FUKURODANI

kenma: face framing highlights, 2000s tamagotchis, oversized knit cardigans, thigh high socks with bows, ren hang photography, biking along the river with your best friend at night, blunt bangs above the eyebrows, projecting movies onto your bedroom wall, stick and poke tattoos, wes anderson cinematography, colored eyeliner, shoulder pads, comme des garcons campaign posters, hand painted skateboards, embroidery on literally anything, kenzo 

kuroo: layering gold and silver necklaces, alexander mcqueen, slightly smudged lipstick, hajime sorayama, y2k cropped tees, long sleeve dresses with thigh high slits, the reflection of the moon in water, bold typography posters, vivienne westwood corsets, buckles, tartan print, a glass of red wine, glossy eyelids, collarbone tattoos, the stoplight reflected in the puddles on a rainy night, drawing on your bottom lashes with eyeliner, coffin/almond shaped nails, cropped band tees, balconies or rooftop terraces

yaku: a guitar strung over your shoulder, fluffy bangs, chain rings, junji ito manga, kitsune masks, traditional japanese calligraphy, space buns, frilly white socks with tall platform shoes, faux fur bags, square necklines, pastel colored hair, old record covers, gogo yubari from kill bill, the opening scene of vertigo, oversized band tees, david carson typography, vivienne westwood (forever and always), harley davidson motorcycles, chocolate dipped strawberries, garter belt sets, dark concert halls with hazy lighting

akaashi: messy buns, raf simons menswear, matte lip tints, oversized blazers over anything, all wong kar wai films, suits and suit dresses, a slip dress under a tailored trench coat, clear umbrellas on a rainy day, bright turtleneck sweaters, japanese lanterns strung up at a festival, leather gloves, wispy eyelashes, berets, lace sheer detailing, greek statues, art museums, stole-my-boyfriend’s button up look, cherry blossoms, lace gloves, fluffy white snow that makes you feel like you’re in a snowglobe

bokuto: floral suits, gucci cruise 2019, backless dresses, big floppy hats with a dark pair of sunglasses, ear length bob cuts, 35 mm film photography, huge house plants, flared jeans (pants as a statement piece!), desert sunsets, big hoop earrings, wearing a ton of highlighter during golden hour, floral sundresses with chunky sneakers, lily pads or koi fish ponds, tilted typography, gradients, multicolored nails, stretched type, surrealist illustration, mismatched earrings, single colored outfits, ballpoint colored pen scribbles

[favefandomimagines]

Soul Surfer 6

AN: SURPRISE BITCHES chapter 6 came early!!! we get some cute Kie/Sarah/Violet action in this as well as some John B/Violet! we stan healthy platonic relationships!!

ALSO: i can’t tag anymore people 😭 i’ve reached the 50 tags limit! if anyone has any suggestions to tag more people, dm me!!

It had been around five days since Violet had spoken to JJ. Kiara made sure that the girl still knew that her, John B and Pope still wanted her around. They weren’t about to give up two friends because JJ was being an idiot.

Kiara knew that Violet was worried that they’d stop hanging out with her because JJ was their best friend. But to Kiara, Violet was also her best friend. In such a short amount of time too.

Violet had been throwing herself into work, all of the orders keeping her mind busy from wandering to JJ. Which it often did most nights and then she resorted to watching true crime shows on Netflix as a distraction.

JJ wasn’t doing any better. He kept trying to get her to talk to him so he could apologize but it was no use. Violet wouldn’t budge. He hated not being able to see her and to talk to her. He had to go back to sleeping at John B’s whenever he was afraid to go home. Of course he was grateful he had a place to go, but he wanted it to be Violet.

Violet hadn’t seen Pope and John B since the night at the Boneyard. She didn’t want them picking sides between her and JJ. It would have made her feel more guilty than she already did.

Kiara and Sarah, however, made sure they stuck by her like glue. Violet couldn’t seem to shake them but she didn’t mind at all.

Violet, Sarah and Kiara were presently at The Wreck having a well needed girls day.

“Okay, okay, Vi. If you had to choose: Harry Styles or Tom Holland?” Sarah asked. “That’s not fair! It’s like asking me to pick a favorite child!” Violet replied. Kiara and Sarah laughed at the girl’s response as she pondered the thought.

“Okay, fine. Harry Styles. Any day of the week.” Violet answered. The three girls sat at their table, falling into mindless conversation about boys and clothes, just happy they were able to spend time together, when the bell on top of the door rang.

Their attention was grabbed by the sound. Violet’s heartbeat sped up rapidly when her eyes landed on the blonde boy.

“Vi, I didn’t know he’d be here.” Kiara said quietly. “It’s fine.” Violet said, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.

“Hey guys! You didn’t tell us you were hanging out today.” John B greeted the three. “Last time I checked this is girls day. Which you are not.” Kiara sassed back.

Violet refused to look up at her friend as they conversed with each other. She could feel JJ’s eyes on her and it made her skin feel on fire.

It was starting to slowly overwhelm her and she heard JJ utter a few words, she quickly got up from her chair and exited the establishment. Sarah and Kiara looked at each other before JJ followed after her.

“Violet!” He called. Violet didn’t stop walking, not wanting to face him. “Please talk to me.” JJ begged, grabbing her arm gently. “I told you to leave me alone.” Violet said, ripping her arm from his grasp.

She still refused to look at him, knowing that if she did, she’d actually end up listening to his potential apology.

“God, can you at least look at me?” He asked. Violet paused a moment before she finally looked up at him.

Only then did he see how upset she really was. At the Boneyard, the darkness hid her face and he silently wished for that again.

“What do you wanna say, JJ? You’re sorry? Sorry for what you said? You wish you could take it all back? Well you can’t! I trusted you. I didn’t tell anyone about my mom and you decided to use that against me.” Violet snapped. “Violet, I,” JJ started before the brunette scoffed and turned away.

JJ was persistent, however, going after Violet once more in another desperate attempt to get her to listen to him.

“I screwed up! I know that! I was mad at Rafe for what he said and instead of finishing to take it out on him, I took it out on you and I’m sorry!” JJ said.

Violet rolled her eyes and kept ignoring him by the time they approached her house.

“Please, JJ, just stop.” She pleaded quietly. JJ could see the hurt in her eyes. How her once bright, cerulean blue eyes were now a darker shade. He would describe it as how the ocean looked during a storm. And he wanted nothing more than to stop her pain.

Before either of them could continue with the painful conversation, the sound of raised voices alerted them both.

“Vivienne, you need to leave now.” Rob’s voice said. JJ watched as Violet’s eyes widened and the color seemingly drained from her face. “She’s my daughter too, Rob.” A woman said.

The two ‘adults’ walked on to the porch and their conversation ceased when they saw Violet and JJ.

“Violet, honey,” Vivienne started. “No. No, this is not happening.” She muttered. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Violet sneered. “Language, young lady.” Her mother scolded her. “You lost the right to tell me what to do when you gave up your parental rights!” Violet yelled.

“Vi, it’s okay.” Her older brother, Nick, said. Violet looked at her brother in disbelief at the fact that he was defending their mother.

Nick was three years older than Violet, the two being inseparable since Violet was born. That was until their mother took him and left. When Nick was old enough, he reached back out to Violet and their father trying to rebuild that bond they once shared. It worked for the most part though Violet never told Nick where they moved to.

“Both of you shut up.” Violet snapped. She turned around quickly when she realized JJ was still standing close to her. “You were right. Guess I am a sad little rich girl with mommy issues.” She muttered to him before she took off running.

“Violet!” Rob yelled. “Vi!” JJ added. The two males looked at each other momentarily before their gaze returned to Violet’s fleeting figure.

__

“You shouldn’t have come here, Vivienne. You knew what this would do to her.” Rob told his ex wife. “She’s still my child. I have a right.” Vivienne said. “You lost your right when you left! You signed away your parental rights to Violet the second you signed the divorce papers.” Rob yelled.

The room fell in a silence, though that didn’t stop the two teenage boys from eavesdropping on the porch.

“It’s been 10 years. 10 years and I’ve taken care of Violet just fine. We have been just fine.” Rob added.

Back on the porch, JJ and Nick sat on sides from each other. “So, you Violet’s boyfriend?” Nick asked, breaking the silence. “God, I wish.” JJ muttered before quickly correcting himself.

“Uh, no. We’re just friends. Or at least we were before I messed it up.” He added. Nick was quiet for a moment as he moved to lean on the porch railing.

“Take it from me, losing Violet sucks. But, if you beg and plead enough, she’ll let you back in.” He said. “Did you tell your mom Violet and Rob were here?” JJ asked. “God, no. Violet didn’t even tell me. Just because I’m back in her good graces doesn’t mean she tells me everything.” the older boy answered.

JJ thought for a moment until he realized he might know where Violet went.

On one of the many adventures JJ and Violet had together, JJ took her to a secret clearing he once discovered when he was running from his dad.

“Where are you taking me?” Violet asked with a laugh. “You ask too many questions.” JJ answered. “I’ve seen Criminal Minds, is this where you kill me?” She questioned. “No, pretty girl. I couldn’t survive without seeing that face every day.” JJ replied flirtatiously.

Violet rolled her eyes until they came upon a clearing in the woods. There was a small waterfall that went into a small pond below. “Wow, it’s beautiful.” She commented.

“That’s not the only thing.” JJ said, hoping Violet wouldn’t hear him but she did. “I know how you’ve been missing home so I thought this would help.” The blonde said.

Violet looked up at JJ before she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you.” Violet whispered.

JJ knew Violet wouldn’t want him to be the one to find her, so he sent a text to the rest of the Pogues.

Kie had to work, as did Pope, and Sarah was dealing with her own messed up familial issues. John B was the only one able to go find Violet. JJ trusted him to talk her off whatever edge she found herself on.

The boy wandered through the woods, following JJ’s instructions, though the teenager wasn’t so good at giving directions. He swatted at the numerous bugs getting in his face when he found the clearing.

He saw Violet sitting on a rock, her feet dangling in the water. “Fancy seeing you here.” John B announced.

Violet turned around and saw her distant friend standing a few feet away. “How’d you find me?” She asked. “JJ. He figured you wouldn’t want to see him but he wanted to make sure you were okay.” John B explained, walking towards her.

He sat down on the rock next to her as the two looked at the waterfall for a moment.

“Did he tell you what happened?” Violet asked. “No. He told me some family stuff was going on and wanted someone to check on you. Said it was your story to tell.” He answered.

Violet sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. “He’s really trying, isn't he?” She asked him. “He really likes you, Vi. He’s never fallen this hard before and I don’t think he knows how to handle it. But yeah, he really is trying.” John Be said.

After an hour, John B drove Violet back home. By that point, the sun had set and it was already dark.

Violet sat in the van, staring at her house for a moment. Scared of what she was going to walk into. “It’s now or never.” John B told her. “And I’ll tell JJ you’re okay.” He added.

The girl groaned before getting out of the van. She gave John B a small wave as she slowly walked up the stairs.

“You’re back.” A voice said. Violet jumped and turned in that direction to see her brother sitting on the porch swing. Violet sighed and took a seat next to him.

“That guy was here for a while. At least two hours. We heard mom and dad fighting about you.” Nick said. “He really cares about you.” He added.

“So I’ve been told.” She muttered. “You sticking around?” She asked. “That’s why I’m here. I’m getting emancipated and I needed dad to sign off on the papers and mom followed me here. When I caught on she said it had something to do with getting us back or whatever. She’s crazy.” Nick explained.

“Tell me something I don’t know. So can I count on you to help me get rid of her?” Violet asked. “What are brothers for?” NIck replied.

Violet rested her head on her brother’s shoulder, her brain working a mile a minute.

Tag list: @outerbxmalia @hockeyschmockey @allie-mcginn @prejudic3 @sexualparkour @k-k0129 @iamaunicorn4704 @milamaybank @jj-maybabe @diverrdown @sweetwatermelonsugar @alexa-playafricabytoto @aaleksmorozova @fandom-phaser @princessmugglecup @infinityspaceuniverse @teamnick @lulbabes @frankiebcanon @srirachabi @starxdame @holadrxrry @lopineapples @belledutchess @floridabornandraised @obbx-tings @x-lulu @hopelesswritingxd @prettyboyspence @junkiemuppettxx @shawnssongs @theloxersclub @99sxuxii @jeyramarie @miliefayy @rudths @y0ungandfuckingdumb @xealia @hotel-colson @bubblesam06 @outrbank @thebendslikebendover @wasted-on-5sos @booksandshish @drizzlethatfalls @runway-to-my-aid @never-ever-too-many-fandoms @xlittlemissydjx @strawberryblondies @haharudy @chickencrispers666 @simonsbluee @httpstarkey @kylable

[dragonagecompanions]

hi there, so in love with your works. Seriously *bows head* thank you all so much. If its not too bad, I wanted to know how everyone in DAI from the advisors to the companions would react to a teen inquisitor who is brilliant at cooking? Yet the inquisitor has no idea about people from Leliana's agents to everyone else pinching her food.

Cassandra: She thinks she is being sneaky and subtle, insisting that because of their age and responsibility it is better for their young herald to stay close to camp and not take a watch when they leave Skyhold. There will be time for that when they are older, and bearless of a burden. If they will take on the difficulty of closing the rifts, then the most they should have to do is help around the camp, and after a long day nothing is appreciated more than hot food.

No one contradicts her, and the Seeker is left to silently congratulate herself on enjoying the absolutely divine way that their young leader has with rabbit and Hinterland herbs without making the Inquisitor feel worthless.

(And if everyone else lets her take a lead on that because she has mattered the speech, well...it’s really good stew.)

Varric: Damn, this is the stuff. Its like being back in the Hanged Man, except the bread is trying to actively strange him, and the pies aren’t staring back and.. 

It’s nothing like the Hanged Man, really, but the sheer comfort of phenomenal food at the end of the world? The same kind of warmth as sitting with your friends as the city goes to shit and laughing at a joke no one else gets. Their young protagonist has a good skill set on their hands, and If Varric’s writing table moves a little closer to the door into the kitchens, well.

Keeps the ink from freezing.

Solas: It had been a passing comment about the frilly cakes in Val Royeaux,  some exchange of banter with Varric about time passing and philosophy and the unending banal that one takes on to keep the miles from turning monotonous. He’d had no idea the Herald was listening, and so it makes it all the more touching when- after waqving to them as they take on the climb to the library- he comes down from his painter’s perch to find three petit fours waiting for him on his table. 

It drives home that they are a thoughtful young person, so different from the rest of this world, and if he uses the sweetness of the frosting and cake to drive away the twinge of guilt that his plans still move at speed....it does not take away from their talent, or their kindness. He will be content with that.

Blackwall: Food is food, particularly on the road. Hard tack and sausage has kept many a soldier alive, and he is the last person you’d hear complaining that he can’t put his pinky out eating meat from a spit. Luxury is for soft handed nobles, not men and women striving to make the world better. Let them have the best cuts-- Blackwall would starve before he robs true heroes of a hot meal.

And yet the first time he comes back from gathering firewood to find that the reason the inquisitor was tying so much string around the side of a wild hog was to make a porketta, and he got a good whiff of roasted pork slowly spinning in it’s own drippings....It would be a harder sacrifice. It made the Inquisitor so happy to watch their work be enjoyed and help people though, that it would the crueler not to take some. 

And if he dreams about the tender meat and crispy skin all perfectly seasoned and roasted for days afterwords, that’s no one’s business of his own. 

Vivienne: She cuts an imposing figure, and for the Madame de Fer is quite proud. It has cowed more than one recalcitrant novice into place with only a long legged stride alone, and for that she is a legend in her circle. Of course the stories do not tell how she would never be cruel or unfeeling to a child, and particularly not one far from home and frightened of every shadow like the ones that the Templars rip from families and depost in a new and strange place.

She expects a similar attitude from the young Herald, particularly after her (rahter stunning) entrance on their first meeting. And perhaps they were a bit overawed, but before it could become something she needs to address Lady Vivienne is pleasantly surprised to find their young leader coming to her for advice from a letter from some minor Orlesian lord. And while surely it will be up to Josephine to craft the response Vivienne is delighted that the Inquisitor wants her input.

That they went to the effort to bring beignet’s with them as a bribe...For that, she will give them every secret of the author’s well kept family scandals. 

Sera: Their Bitty Herald can make cookies better than Sera can make cookies, but they aren’t the kind that you throw at people as a prank or that come out all rock hard and brown and blegh. They are the soft gooey kind that make you want to steal the whole plate and eat them on your roof but also throw the plate at their Quizznitor because....because cookies!

She will trade pranks for cookies, who ever her Jenny in training wants to see doused in water or flour or...or...pudding! Pudding for cookies is the most fair.

Dorian: Southern food is bland and tasteless, and Skyhold’s resident ‘Vint will endure it for as long as he must to help defeat this ancient magister and get things on the right track. And the beer isn’t the worst, much to his own dismay as his delicate palette accepts the swill. But the food is all friend or brown or smothered in gravy, and he’d just as soon not.

So when they finally stop for the night under the endless web of branches that keep the sky from meeting the Fallow Mire, the pond water full of dead people sounds more appealing than one more night of Varric’s nug stew. Which makes the fact their valiant young Herald just ladled him a bowl of Minestrone so much more impressive. Their shrugged explanation of ‘I’ve always wanted to make it and the merchants had actual artichokes on the way here and you can tell me if I got it right’ does nothing to take away the warmth and delight the gesture brings to him. 

It would be like coming home, if anyone had ever made sucha rustic and delightful soup for him without strings and hooks attached in Tevinter, and for the first time on the whole mission Dorian isn’t chilled the rest of the night. 

The Iron Bull: He isn’t sure which one of the Chargers talks to the Herald (lies, it was  Krem), but one night half the fortress is piled into the Rest and the Inquisitor is waiting with four bowls of unreadable origin. The explanation that these are four kinds of curry and each is hotter than the last is the best gift he’s ever gotten, but the wager of a single coin (he won’t steal more than that from the kid) that the Iron Bull can’t finish them for the spice is even better. 

Three hours later finds him chewing on one of Stitche’s poultices for a burnt tongue (and throat and stomach and probably ass in a few hours) but one coin richer and hoarse voiced from the roaring laughter he’d gotten after a straight face convinced Krem to try the last bown and he’d literally wept.

Good times. 

Cole: The nug is made of bread, and it isn’t a nug but it looks like one. And it’s wearing a tiny hat! ‘Roll the dough out, has to be thin so it rises to keep the shape, he likes nugs so much and doesn’t ask for anything and Sera bet me I couldn’t.’ You made it for me. Thank you! He says hello back!

Josephine: When their ambassador hears that not only does the Herald have an aunt who married into a merchant house in Antiva but the inquisitor spent a summer there and learned to make authentic Paella, Lady Montiliyet’s mind is a whirlwind of plans and thoughts of just the appropriate bribe that would spare her from getting down on her knees and begging a fifteen year old to make her favorite dish. Eventually Leliana gets tired of little doodles of steaming bowls on all their meeting notes and sends a raven  three windows over, Josie, really with an ‘anonymous’ request to make it and leave it in the war room in exchange for a trade of equal value. 

And when Josephine finds out that all the Inquisitor wants is the creepy love letters from young  Orlesian nobles to go away, she takes great delight in her strongly worded letters to their mothers in between heaping mouthfuils of white wine rice and shrimp and the warm bite of saffron that will always be home.

Leliana: It is written on no report or schedule, and her agents will go to the grave without speaking of it to another soul, but the Inquisition’s spymaster has a man in the kitchens whose only role is to fetch firewood and water and try to one day recover his shattered after a terrible mission in her service. It’s easy work for a man who gave so much, and somewhere he is able to do good work until the tremors and the nightmares stop. The kitchen staff is kind to him and treat him well, but his true mission is known only to himself and his mistress.

The second the herald starts making  Cassoulet he is to fetch her immediately. She won’t be caught in a meeting and miss her favorite food again, damn it.

Cullen: It’s hard for the Inquisitor’s commander to be at ease with someone who is both a child and at least nominally his leader. They are someone he wants to protect, but also the key to stopping the world and someone who must be on the front lines. That is gift alone to the world, but when the rumors begin to swirl that they will also go out of their way to make things that people like it brings a small smile to his face. The world would be better if had more people like the herald in it. 

Especially if they could all make little crocks of shepards pie like the one that sits on his desk after a day of long meetings and a lyrium migraine. That might make everything right again.

-- Mod Fereldone

[ultraglittercat]

Drabble 130

Snowfall

Winter had come to Old Corona and with it a fresh blanket of snow. Quirin kissed his wife and son before heading out to shovel snow, but for Vivienne and Varian snow was something fun to explore and not a chore. Vivienne dressed her 9 month old baby in a warm jacket, gloves, little boots, and hat. It would have been quicker if Varian hadn't torn the gloves off twice.

“Come on, Varian. Gloves are very useful. They protect your hands from things that are otherwise too hot or cold to touch. Mommy wears gloves when she does her experiments, and you like that, don't you? Wouldn't you like to be like Mommy?” Vivienne coaxed. Varian grinned at the word 'experiments'. Alchemy was a special, secret thing he did with Mommy because for some reason Daddy didn't approve, even though alchemy made things bubble over, or change color, or melt, all very interesting changes Varian could observe. Having finally persuaded her son to actually wear his gloves, Vivienne scooped him and mother and baby went outside.

The first thing Varian noticed was that it was very cold. The next thing he noticed was that the ground and trees were all covered in something white. And the third thing he noticed was other, bigger children were running around, playing in the white stuff. Well, David and Katie were running around. Pamela was just sort of standing there, looking bored.

“This is snow, Varian and it happens every year when the weather gets cold enough to change the rain to snow. You've seen rain before, haven't you?” Vivienne explained.

“Buh.” said Varian.

“Varian!” Katie squealed and stopped in her tracks. This gave David the perfect opportunity to tag her.

“Gotcha!” David announced gleefully.

“No fair, I was distracted by the baby. Varian's gonna play in the snow!” Katie bounced up and down in excitement. Pamela rolled her eyes and walked in a slow circle around the group.

“He's not really big enough to play like you kids do. But this is his first time seeing snow and I thought I'd set him down and see what he does.” Vivienne gently placed Varian on the ground. Varian immediately began crawling and scooping up bits of snow with his gloves, looking a little puzzled.

“Snow is solid, Varian, not a liquid like water. You can pick it up and shape it into a ball. See how Mommy does it.” Vivienne demonstrated by forming a snowball and tossing it at a tree.

“I can make snowballs too!” David boasted. He picked up a handful of snow and threw it in Varian's face.

“Ba guh!” Varian wailed.

“David, don't! You could hurt or frighten him. He's just a baby.” Vivienne brushed the snow off Varian.

“Yeah, David. Be nice to baby Varian.” Katie scolded. David stuck his tongue out.

“Remember, he's a little young for snowball fights. You have to play gently with him.” Vivienne told the kids, but David wasn't really listening to her instructions.

“I guess he's too young to go to the pond, too.” Katie realized sadly. “Mommy takes me there every year and it's really fun, Varian.”

“He can't skate. He'd just fall over. That's all he does anyway.” David scoffed.

Right on cue, Varian rolled over, flailing his arms and legs uselessly. Vivienne righted him and he began crawling again.

“He only falls because he's little. Daddy says everybody's like that when they're a baby.” Katie said in Varian's defense.

“Nuh uh! I was never like him!” David protested.

Vivienne laughed. “It's true, all babies fall down. But Varian's getting around much better than he used to. He also makes more sounds every day. I think he's going to talk soon.” Vivienne predicted.

“Ooh! I wanna hear Varian talk!” Katie cooed. “Say hi to me, Varian!”

“Gugga.” said Varian.

Vivienne shrugged. “Not quite, but he's nearly there! Learning to talk and stand are big accomplishments for a baby and Varian's not even a year old. I heard you were 14 months old before you talked Katie, and David and Pamela were 15 months old.” Vivienne recalled.

“No way Katie was faster than me!” David scowled.

“Ha!” this time Katie stuck her tongue out at David.

“It's normal for babies to learn to talk about that age. We just have to give Varian a little more time.” Vivienne said wisely.

“Huh. He seems to be doing alright with the standing part.” Pamela noticed, a hint of a smile on her face.

Varian had pushed down with his hands and managed to pull himself into a standing position. He soon fell down, landing in the soft snow.

“Good job, sweetie! You're getting good at standing!” Vivienne praised.

“Buh ba!” Varian reached for his mother who bent down and picked him up.

“I think that's enough play time for now. You can't be out in the snow too long or you'll get sick. You can play for longer when you're bigger.” Vivienne decided. “Wave goodbye to your little friends, okay Varian?”

“Goo!” Varian waved at everybody.

“Aww, so cute. We'll see you later Varian. Us big kids are gonna finish playing tag.” Katie said.

“I already tagged you so you're it!” David gloated.

“That wasn't fair, we weren't playing then, we were looking at the baby.” Katie argued.

“It still counts!” David hollered.

Pamela sighed. “Does it really matter if it's fair? You two would just fight about it anyway.” she complained.

Vivienne held back laughter. It was cute watching the children play, even if they squabbled some. Someday soon Varian would be joining them, and Vivienne could only hope the cancer would slow down and give her time to witness more of Varian growing up.

The End

You know when kids get together and play there's always one kid who thinks to heck with the rules and does what he wants. David is that kid. Varian's much better behaved. He's gonna talk really, really soon, and then he'll be walking a few weeks later.