#happy birthday to the love of my life king you're living forever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

panda-writes-kpop · 2 years ago

Text

a question of morality, or a test of loyalty?

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! This was written as a birthday present for @ghastlybin , so happy birthday to a wonderful friend and fellow clown. ❤️ Also, this was heavily inspired by the works of @kingmaker-a (you can probably spot the references and thank you to King and @neon-city-dreams for fielding my questions since this fic was a bit out of my wieldhouse)

TW: ACAB and anti-capitalism themes, betrayal, alcohol, food and drink mentions, OOC SuA, a surprise guest at the end :)

Summary: One wrong turn can change your life forever. Some, like SuA, are resistant to change, while others are at the forefront of it all. Where will you lie after everything in your life changes?

♡ Masterlist ♡

"Hey, Geek Squad, over here!"

SuA waves you over with what surely is a weapon in her hand.

"What did you do this time?"

Your lab coat freely flows behind you as you walk towards SuA with haste.

"I think you mean 'What did we do?'" A smirk lies on SuA's face, and the tamed wilderness that rests in her brown eyes should tell you that nothing but trouble is on the horizon. "Watch this!"

With a simple click, the cylindrical object in her hand comes to life. It emits a deep violet color before SuA begins swinging it around. You duck before she swings the object over your head.

"What are you trying to do, behead me?"

She bursts out into a fit of laughter before turning it off.

"No, it doesn't have the capability to do that, but you may have given me an idea for my next project."

"C’mon, be serious. What is this thing for?" You gesture to the object that SuA tosses in the air carelessly before catching it.

"It's a zoning device. The superior asked me to work on it since you haven't had any great ideas as of late."

Your eyes widen as you fold your arms.

"Genius takes time-"

"Genius takes time -" SuA imitates you with a high-pitched voice as you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"You're acting like a child-"

"You're acting like a child!" She imitates you again, but this time, she uses a deep voice.

"I hate you."

"I love you~"

"That's not what I said." You matter-of-factly say as she lightly pushes against you.

"Well, that's what I heard." She smirks, again, before grabbing onto your arm.

You do your best to hide the shyness on your face as you lead her back to the lab.

"Speaking of genius-"

"Speaking of genius-" SuA bursts out laughing before squeezing your arm. "Okay, I'm done, you can continue on."

"Remember that car design that wouldn't work due to the spring constant-"

"Oh, here we go with the math stuff-"

"It's Physics, Sua," You're quick to correct her, "but I managed to fix it, and I should have the plans for you by tomorrow so you can start building."

"Look at you go, Calculator Watch!"

"You're so mean to me." You joke before poking her sides.

She screams and you flinch before breaking away from her.

"Don't do that! I'm sensitive." She crosses her arms in front of her chest in defiance, but the soft smile on her face tells you that she knows you're joking around. "Are you going to get drinks with me tonight?"

"I've got to change first, but yeah, I'll come." You adjust your lab coat before grabbing your ID from its protector. "Same place as usual?"

"Yup," She nods as you place your ID in front of the scanner, "and I don't think you need to change. You make the lab coat look hot, if I'm being honest."

A bit of red dusts your cheeks as the light in front of the scanner turns from green to red.

"Thanks." You mumble before waving her on. "Let's get this done so we can get those drinks, huh?"

"Now you're speaking my language!"

Living in the city had numerous benefits, and one of which was the fact that you could walk from your workplace to home and then back again. You liked taking the scenic route home as you could admire the delicate, dainty work that the city gardeners had created in the small gardens that dusted the sidewalks.

You liked taking the 'good' way home, or at least, that was the name that your co-workers gave it. They didn't like to go through the regular parts of the city due to the high crime rates, so they stuck to their same-old ways. You weren't against the poor and out-of-luck, but safety was a real concern for you, so you take the routine way home every day.

Today, however, was not your lucky day as there happened to be unavoidable construction work on both your regular and alternate route home. That meant that you would have to take the back alleys home, and although you weren't fond of the idea, you didn't want to be late to meet SuA.

Arming yourself with one of your homemade projects, a knife-like object that would send the victim to sleep once it penetrated the skin, you carefully walk through the alleys as you keep your head up. Awareness was a key tool in surviving in the city, especially if you weren't rich or happened to be in the wrong area at the wrong time.

The walk home was nerve-wracking but mostly peaceful. A few stragglers gave you some strange looks, and you couldn't blame them. Your pristine clothes and pure white lab coat must've looked strange next to a worn-down building covered in graffiti. You paid them no mind, and to the stranger that went too close, you flashed your weapon which caused them to quickly back away.

Everything was peaceful, and you felt yourself relax as your apartment building came into sight. Since you were on a main walkway, there were armed guards everywhere, which caused you to slip your weapon back into your pockets. Your quickened steps turned into a relaxed stroll as you tried to find your keys in your pocket.

After giving yourself a quick pat-down, you find the keys in your left pants pocket. You fish them out as you approach the building.

You're stopped by a crowd of people who are talking among themselves. You try to navigate around them, but the crowd's density causes you to reconsider. You'll be heading into the street if you want to do that, and considering how fast most cars go, you choose to stay off the roads.

You shoot SuA a quick text saying that you'll be late, and you slip your phone back into your pocket as you try to weave through the crowd. You stop dead in your tracks when a piercing scream breaks through the hustle and bustle of the city.

With that, the crowd breaks as people go running in different directions. You're left confused until you look to your right.

A girl who couldn't be older than fifteen is shoved against a wall by a couple of guards. She wails again, but they pay her no mind. One guard looks at the other for a moment before pulling out a skinny blue metal rod. You gasp when it illuminates blue after the guard turns it on.

The girl screams and thrashes against the guards, but you're unable to help her. Interfering in the business of the guards in a serious offense, and you don't need that sort of thing on your record.

Besides, if you did rescue her, what would you say?

"Oh, you see that torture device in that guards hand? Funny story, actually, since I'm the one who designed it."

Conflicting opinions battle in your mind as you unlock the door to your apartment.

Should you have intervened, even if it meant your own demise? Would it mean anything if you did? Would those above forgive you for the transgressions against society?

You carelessly throw your lab coat on a nearby coat hanger as you nervously pull at a strand of hair from your head.

That image is scorned into your memory, and you know that you can’t go back to work and continue to do what you did every other day before. The thought of it makes you nauseous, but the question remains to be answered.

What are you going to do next?

You try to pick an outfit in peace, and you’re successful for a moment before another wave of guilt crashes over you.

That little girl could’ve grown up to be something great… god-knows-where she is now, or if she’s still alive.

Still alive, you hope as you get dressed, please be alive.

You have to hope she’s alive. Otherwise, the guilt would eat you alive.

“Hey, you made it!” SuA roughly pats your back before rubbing your arm. “You look nice, all dressed up like that.”

You nod and bite your lip before ordering a drink.

“You alright?” SuA tugs at your arm as you sit next to her. “I know you’re quiet and withdrawn at times… but this is strange for you.”

“I have a lot on my mind.” You confess as you thank the bartender for giving you a drink.

“Like what?”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.” You shake your head as the thoughts come to the front of your mind.

“I worry about you.” Her voice softens, along with her mannerisms. “You can tell me, you know.”

“If I do… you won’t judge me for what I say, right?”

“Not unless you say something stupid.” She shoves you with her shoulder before grabbing your hand. “I’m all ears.”

So you tell her everything.

Everything about what you say. Everything that you had thought in the past hour. Everything, everything, e v e r y t h i n g.

When you finish, SuA quickly hushes you before speaking in a low tone.

“You can’t- you can’t do anything about that girl-”

“That won’t help me sleep at night.” You mummer back. “What do you think?”

“I… You need to move on.”

“SuA, I… I can’t.”

“I know.”

“So?” You softly say.

“So.”

“You can’t… you can’t just say that!” You exasperatedly say. “You need to tell me something.”

“What do you want me to say?” SuA asks with a bit of anger in her voice.

“I need you to tell me anything, SuA, I need you to tell me it’s alright.”

“You’re an adult. You can comfort yourself.”

“I need you to be on my side because I love you!” You raise your voice a moment before lowering it again. “I can’t stand the thought that you believe in these… sick, twisted ideas that this company, this city, this world promotes!”

“You love me?” SuA softens further before embracing you. “I’m sorry that I never said anything before.”

“What do we do now? How do we move forward?”

“I think that’s a question that can be answered after a few more rounds of alcohol.” SuA suggests before pulling away from you.

“Oh… okay.”

“Hey.”

“Hey?” You tilt your head at her.

“I love you too, you nerd.”

It was a dangerous plan.

It was a bad plan.

But it was your only option at the moment.

You and SuA would go into work tomorrow like nothing was wrong. During the shift, however, the two of you would be destroying any of your work that could pose a threat. After that, you’d wipe SuA and yourself from the computer system so you’d be completely untraceable. Then, after you had called in a favor from an old friend, you had a couple of electric motorcycles that would get you out of the city before anyone knew anything was wrong.

It was, most definitely, a horrible plan. One error could end with the both of you dead.

It was your only chance to right a wrong, and your chance to escape this nightmare with SuA, so it had to be a good plan that went well.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you got dressed this morning. After combing your hair into place, you grab your lab coat and head to work.

One last day, you tell yourself, and the rest of your life can be spent doing something good for once.

You offer SuA a gentle nod as you clock in with your idea. She smirks before poking your side with her elbow.

“Why so gloomy?”

“I’m trying not to be.” You mumble before walking in the lab. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

Brief greetings between the two of you were rare, but you had to hope that none of your co-workers thought that anything was wrong. Luckily, no one paid either of you any mind as you slipped into the lab.

You offer a glance backward as you see SuA walk towards the workshop with a phone in hand.

She’ll be fine, you know it. SuA’s a burning fire that’ll do whatever it takes to survive.

You just have to hope that your own resolve can last through an entire shift.

The day goes smoothly, to your surprise. In between working on a comfort project for one of the rich families, you’re able to delete or modify most of your work that would’ve led to the development of weapons or something worse.

As you stare at the weapons in front of you, you can’t help but wonder why you didn’t see this before. Was it the money that blinded you, or were you truly ignorant and resigned to what the people above you were doing?

It didn’t matter because you were going to be done with this life in an hour.

An hour. 60 minutes. 3600 seconds.

Yet the time crawls by at any agonizing pace.

One hour.

You look at the clock in front of you before pulling your flash drive from the device in front of you.

Three minutes.

Three minutes left, and all of you had to do was remove this flash drive from the premises. Maybe you could take it with you and try to amend the war crimes that you had committed by association, or-

The sound of your boss calling your name causes the hair on your arms to shoot up. You discreetly put the flash drive in your pants pocket before turning around.

“Yes?”

“Did you delete all of your work?”

“I-” Shit. “It was an accident.”

“Liar.”

They step aside to reveal SuA behind them.

Your mind races through a million possible explanations before landing on the one that hurts the most.

SuA betrayed you.

She mouths an ‘I’m sorry’, but you’re too blindsided by her actions to say anything.

She did this? After everything she said last night?

“You can hand over the files, and I’m willing to let this go due to your history of good behavior.” Your boss says as they extend a hand out.

You sigh before fishing the flash drive out of your pocket.

“Good, now just hand it to me-”

You hesitate before gripping onto the flash drive.

Could I really live with myself if I did something like this?

You drop the flash drive on the ground before stomping on it with your foot.

You hear SuA gasp as you dryly laugh.

“Whoops.”

“Seize them!”

Public execution.

You knew that was the fate that was destined for you before it came from the judge’s mouth. You had committed treason against one of the biggest companies in the city, which basically meant that you had committed treason against the whole city.

You didn’t really care, though. The one person you actually cared about turned you in, and for what gain?

You thought SuA was honorable, kind, funny, and respectful. There were many nights where you had dreamed of being something more with her. Now, she was repulsive to you. Everything that you had adored about SuA became something that you cursed at. You were so, so wrong about her.

You, however, were right about SuA in one respect: She would do whatever it took to survive.

The guard stationed at your door had told you that SuA wanted to come and see you, but you refused.

Why would you want to see someone who doomed you to death?

Well, you did that part yourself, but it still hurts.

You were numb, so death didn’t seem so bad.

Three days. 72 hours. 4320 minutes. 259,000 seconds.

The amount of time that you had left to rot in this cell before you died.

You had stopped eating a day ago after you found out SuA was paying the jail to provide you with meals that you liked.

You’d do anything to spite her at this point. You knew that she couldn’t handle the fact that your blood would be on her hands, so you’d relish in the thought of making her waking hours as torturous as possible.

You trusted her.

You had the two weeks before your sentencing to mourn the loss of that relationship.

In the place of cold, wet tears and lonely nights were fiery anger and bitter words, but you knew that you couldn’t say any of it to SuA.

She’d apologize, you’d apologize, and she’d get the closure she needed.

So you wouldn’t let her get close. If you had to be punished, then so did she.

The guard in front of you knocks to signal meal time.

“I’m not hungry. You should already know that.”

When they look at you, you realize that this guard isn’t the same one that you’ve had.

“Sorry,” You grumble before hugging your knees close to your chest, “you must be new.”

“Well, I’d be new if I was a guard in the first place.”

“Huh?”

You quickly stand as the guard tosses their hat to the side. Light purple waves of hair fall down her shoulders.

“Who are you?”

“We’re impressed with your efforts, Scientist Zero.” She smiles before fishing keys out of her pocket. “You’re coming with me if I didn’t make it obvious already.”

“What do you want with me? A private execution?” You bitterly spit as she offers you her hand.

“You can sit and rot in this jail if you want, but I think you have some amends to make, right?”

“How do you know so much about-”

“Do you want to come with me or not?” She offers you an ultimatum, and you sigh before cautiously taking her hand.

“I’m choosing to trust you in the hopes that you don’t stab me in the back.”

“I’d never dream of it.” She jokes, and the laughter squeezes the vulnerable part of your heart.

“I need a name before I fully put my life in your hands.”

“Lee Gahyeon.” She answers before pulling you to the side.

Another person, dressed in similar prison wear, takes your place in the cell before Gahyeon closes the gate.

“Don’t tell me they’re going to-”

“We do what we have to.” Gahyeon darkly answers. “A lot of people have faith in you, including myself, Zero. Is it alright if I call you Zero?”

You pause as you think back to the names you’ve been called before.

Geek Squad, Calculator Watch, Nerd.

“I’ve been called worse, believe me.”

63 notes · View notes

tiny-librarian · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 3,542 times in 2022

That's 56 more posts than 2021!

428 posts created (12%)

3,114 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@tiny-librarian

@princessanneftw

@lilkearnsie

@theroyalsandi

@redxluna

I tagged 3,491 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#long live the queue - 1,358 posts

#royal birthdays - 311 posts

#marie antoinette - 195 posts

#bridgerton - 194 posts

#princess anne - 160 posts

#elizabeth ii - 150 posts

#18th century - 134 posts

#magnificent century - 125 posts

#house of the dragon - 116 posts

#louis xvi - 105 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#if you prefer marie & fersen to marie & louis i'm going to assume you either know nothing about ma or you're just incredibly shallow 💅🏻

My Top Posts in 2022:

@shiftythrifting

A Stein that made me laugh and a picture I would have bought if it hadn't been 13 bucks.

312 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

A statement from Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie:

Our dearest Grannie,

We've not been able to put much into words since you left us all.

There have been tears and laughter, silences and chatter, hugs and loneliness, and a collective loss for you, our beloved Queen and our beloved Grannie.

We, like many, thought you'd be here forever. And we all miss you terribly.

You were our matriarch, our guide, our loving hand on our backs leading us through this world. You taught us so much and we will cherish those lessons and memories forever.

For now dear Grannie, all we want to say is thank you. Thank you for making us laugh, for including us, for picking heather and raspberries, for marching soldiers, for our teas, for comfort, for joy. You, being you, will never know the impact you have had on our family and so many people around the world.

The world mourns you and the tributes would really make you smile. They are all too true of the remarkable leader you are.

We're so happy you're back with Grandpa. Goodbye dear Grannie, it has been the honour of our lives to have been your granddaughters and we're so very proud of you.

We know that dear Uncle Charles, the King, will continue to lead in your example as he too has dedicated his life to service.

God save the King.

With our love,

Beatrice and Eugenie

329 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

349 notes - Posted May 26, 2022

A stone slab engraved with the names of Queen Elizabeth II, her late husband Prince Philip, and her parents King George VI and Queen Elizabeth, has been installed at St George's Chapel in Windsor.

Source

393 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

“There was no greater man than Julius, and the Romans left him dead on the Senate floor.”

Cleopatra’s Daughter - Michelle Moran

1,277 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Everyone else is doing it #I question several of these but whatever

4 notes · View notes

water-mellie-seeds · 2 years ago

Text

My TOP 100 SONGS ON SPOTIFY 2022

Check yes juliet-we the kings

Misery business-paramore

Symptomatic-peach prc

Diet soda society-the maine

Rick kids-new medicine

Ghost-envoi

Bulletproof love-pierce the veil

Blondes-peach prc

Oh no-marina

The diary of jane-breaking benjamin

Everybodys fool-evanescence

Temporary bliss-the cab

More than a friend-girli

Songbird-the technicolors

Explode-patrick stump

Bruises-chairlift

Devil town-cavetown

Hermit the frog-marina

Lemons-brye

God is a freak-peach prc

Feed the wolf-breaking benjamin

Holy-pvris

Wrong-finish ticket

Josh-peach prc

I hate everything about you- three days grace

Call me when you're sober-evanescence

All around me-flyleaf

Newport living-cute is what we aim for

Tonight you are mine-the technicolors

Sweet sacrifice-evanescence

Dance with the devil-breaking benjamin

Kiss me again-we are the in crowd

Warm me up-the audition

Blood runs red-78rpm

So alright,cool,whatever-the happy fits

Afraid- johnnie guilbert

Determinate-lemonade mouth

You and i-anarbor

Breezeblocks-alt-j

High school never ends-bowling for soup

Rät-Penelope scott

Dirty little secret-the all american rejects

Wires-the neighborhood

Colorblind-peach prc

All signs point to Lauderdale-a day to remember

EAT ME-demi lovato

What do you want from me-forever the sickest kids

Ocean avenue-yellowcard

You were wrong go back-omori

ost

You be the anchor that keeps my feet on the ground,ill be the wings that keep your heart in the clouds-mayday parade

Crying in public-chairlift

The saltwater room-owl city

Afraid-the neighborhood

Bring me to life-evanescence

Popstar-new hollow

Sunburn-owl city

Too many faces-cherri bomb

Fast in my car-paramore

Say you like me-we the kings

The curse of curves-cute is what we aim for

One too many-new medicine

Adhd-truslow

Skyway avenue-we the kings

Now you know-jonah green

Own it- adelitas way,new medicine

Pete wentz is the only reason we're famous-cobra starship

Anime intro-public theatre

Demons-hayley kiyoko

Alive-adelitas way

Kill the lights-the birthday massacre

Thanks i hate it-simple creatures

30 minute break-the luka state

Close enough-arrows in action

La la lainey-forever the sickest kids

Hello seattle-owl city

Fear of dying-poppy

Faceless-new years end

Baby you're a haunted house-gerard way

Passion for publication-anarbor

Cherry-FLETCHER,hayley kiyoko

Dead inside-younger hunger

Finding something to do-hellogoodbye

Tokyo-bubblegum-leat'eq,peach prc

Stop me when youve had enough-nural

Joyriding-frank iero

Fuck it-new medicine

Breaking up my bones-vinyl theatre

Make a move-icon for hire

Bad day-charlotte sands

Fire up the night-new medicine

Hell of a ride-bo burnham

Today is gonna be a great day-bowling for soup

Welcome to the black parade-MCR

HOLY FVCK-demi lovato

Waiting for superman-daughtry

Arise-flyleaf

Teenagers-MCR

HEAVEN-demi lovato

Dear vienna-owl city

Little lion man-mumford and sons(punk goes pop)

Dont stop-innerpartysystem

6 notes · View notes

writerdream22 · 4 years ago

Text

requested by no one, but once again @nemesis729 suggested an amazing scenario and wanted me to write a fifth part of this series, so here it is! I really hope you all like this ✨🌻💛

pairings: Thomas Shelby x twin sister!reader, Alfie Solomons x Shelby!wife!reader

warnings: angst. There might be some grammatical errors since English is not my first language

Thomas felt worthless after you showed that you were determined to cut off all the threads that bound you to the Shelby clan

After such a long time, he'd understood that he'd done a mistake, leaving you for Grace— who in the end turned out to be the “bad guy”

He wanted to do something, he wanted to redeem himself in front of your eyes without excessively interfering with your life

So, he wrote you a letter. And this time it was a long letter, full of sadness and grief

He knew he'd done everything by himself, so he began writing his letter like this:

“My dear y/n, I'm writing you this letter hoping you'll read it, someday. I did an unforgivable mistake by estranging you from the family, and I know that neither of us is going to forget what I've done in the past years. Everyone was against my decision, and I understood that they were right way later than I was supposed to. Grace is not who I thought she was, so you were right on that. Something has happened within me, and I need to atone for my faults—”

After spending hours writing, Thomas carefully closed the letter in a beige-colored envelope, then personally went to your house and left it just before the door

He hid behind a bush from which he could see the house clearly, and waited for you to come retrieve the mail

Not much later, you opened your house's door holding what seemed to be a crying newborn baby in your arms

Almost eight months had passed from Samuel's birthday. Were you already pregnant then? And was the baby a male or a female?

It was indeed a female, born just a few weeks prior to the event we were recounting, and you and Alfie had decided to name her Winifred

Anyhow, you instantly saw Thomas' letter and recognized his handwriting

You reluctantly took the envelope in your hands, careful not to drop Winifred, and walked back into your house

After assuring himself that you were far enough to not see him, Thomas walked to one of the living room's windows (he somehow knew you would have gone there) and cautiously overlooked your actions

You sat on a green-colored armchair and put the letter beside you, still holding Winifred close to your chest

“And he expects me to read this?! He wants forgiveness, after what he's done? Never.”

And so you shred the envelope to pieces and threw it in the crackling flame of the fireplace

Your twin brother looked down, feeling disappointed and hopeless, and walked to his car, which he had parked far away

The long walk made him think about what he'd lost because of his own selfishness and irrationality, because of his desire to become as close to a king as he could be

He'd lost what he cared for the most, the person who had helped him solve every problem of his, who had stayed with him through thick and thin, who had always fought alongside him, against what the world held for them both

He realized way too late that his twin sister, y/n Shelby, had been hurt so much that her scars would have never healed completely

He realized way too late that his twin sister had found complete happiness in the arms of someone who gave her everything, who always helped her and never left her behind, unlike him

Thomas Shelby had completely lost his twin sister

He knew he would have never been the same person that he was before the war, just like you would never have been the same girl who played in the mud by the cut and loved talking with other people

Nevertheless, you once knew that your brother was by your side, that he would have been there forever

But now, because of Grace Burgess, both you and Thomas had lost an essential part of your life

Even though you had found yourself in the arms of Alfie Solomons, the man you went on to marry and build a family with, you always felt an immense void in your heart which had been left by Thomas' betrayal

You weren't willing to get hurt again, you wanted to live as peacefully as you could (even though it wasn't actually possible) and care for family

You had found the courage to start again, away from everything and everyone you knew, and Thomas wasn't going to take it away. Not now, not in a thousand years.

“Oh dear brother, my dear Tommy, you'll never read this letter because I don't have the courage to enclose it in an envelope and send it to you. You need to know that I'll always love you, but you need to understand what you've done even though it hurts. Just think about what you've done to me- you're just feeling a minuscule part of what I felt. I sincerely hope you will gain your senses before it's too late, before you do something reckless (which you've certainly already done) and get hurt, or worse. Even though you hurt Alfie, my husband, he won't be against you passing by our residence for lunch and stay with our children, play with them for a while. A lot of time has passed, so much time since we've properly rode horses around Watery Lane and talked. I hope you're living a happy life, that our siblings and aunt Pol are doing well and that Small Heath is like I remember. I will never forget you, brother. Me and you against the world, remember?— ”

250 notes · View notes

let-the-dream-begin · 5 years ago

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 4: The Past Can Hurt

Chapter 3

Read on AO3

Claire peeked at the rear view mirror again, and smiled again at the sight of her happy daughter. Faith's favorite "reward meal" was McDonald's. Claire had pinky-promised that if she was a good girl with the horses today, they would get McDonald's for dinner on the way home. She was contentedly waving around the Minion toy that had come in the happy meal, humming and kicking her little legs. Claire had both of their meals on the passenger seat, knowing full well that her daughter would make quite the mess if she let her eat in the car. So would Claire, to be frank.

Claire had made it abundantly clear how proud she was of Faith, had reminded her several times already how she'd been such a good girl. Whether this made Faith happy to hear, or she was simply still in the afterglow of petting a horse, was anyone's guess. Claire hoped Faith could see, could truly understand how happy her mother was. She supposed if she said it enough it might sink in, if it hadn't already.

Back at home, the moment Claire unbuckled Faith from her carseat, she insisted on carrying her meal in herself, to which Claire was more than happy to oblige. She watched, amused, as Faith scampered up the steps to their front door, waiting rather impatiently for her mother to catch up. This was something that Faith had done whenever they'd arrived at their home in Oxfordshire: squirm out of Claire's grip and bolt to the porch, rocking on her heels or bouncing while she waited for the door to open. As Claire pushed the key into the lock, her heart felt a little lighter.

She already feels like this is her home.

Faith immediately scampered inside and right to the kitchen, and by the time Claire got the door shut, stuffed horse onto the couch, and shoes off, Faith was already halfway through her chicken nuggets, sitting up on her knees at the kitchen table. Claire shook her head, laughing.

"You are certainly in a good mood, aren't you, darling?" She ruffled her curly hair and sat down across from her, opening her own paper bag, pulling out her burger and french fries. The teenager at the drive-thru had been quite bewildered when she'd asked for crisps. Such strange lingo these Americans used.

Faith was finished eating before Claire was even halfway through her burger, and she slid off her chair and reached for the chocolate shake that Claire put on the counter to be out of her reach until she finished. Claire sprung out of her seat to grab it herself before Faith could cause it to topple and make a mess.

"Let Mummy help, Faith," Claire said, frantically. "You have to ask for help..." Claire sighed in defeat, handing over the milkshake. She sat back down as Faith settled in again, knowing better than to leave the kitchen with food of any kind. Claire watched her little cheeks hollow out as she guzzled down the liquid, her honey eyes light with joy.

Faith's being nonverbal was not as much of an issue as it could have been, but it was an issue nonetheless. The worst of it was when she was clearly distraught and could not communicate the source of her distress. Had she made a mess of her chocolate shake due to her inability to ask for help, it would have been quite the inconvenience, but Claire supposed mealtime could have gone much worse. Claire knew her daughter by now, better than Claire even knew herself. She'd become accustomed to the various grunts and whines, associating meaning to each different sound over the years. She supposed, however, that this would not be a sufficient way to communicate to a teacher someday, or Mrs. Lickett when Claire was no longer able to stay home with them.

Claire's anxiety lessened a bit at the thought of the woman; Mrs. Lickett was certified to teach American Sign Language to nonverbal autistic children, and she promised Claire she'd have Faith doing basic signs by the time she was ready to start school, whenever that may be.

Then she remembered how close they'd come to a meltdown in the stable, and how easily Jamie had calmed her, how proud he'd been to introduce the horse to her as a reward, how happy it had made Faith. Claire's heart swelled for perhaps the hundredth time since they'd left. The sound of slurping filled the room as Faith reached the end of her milkshake.

"All done, lovie?" Faith took her mouth off the straw and smiled contentedly at her mother. "Clean up now, Faith. Garbage in the bin, please."

Faith did as she was told, and then Claire beckoned her into her lap.

"Come here, darling," she crooned, enveloping her in her arms. "Mummy is so very proud of you, baby. I'll never stop saying it." She kissed her cheek, and Faith giggled. "Are you happy, Faith? Hm?" She rocked her gently, but Faith just hummed and traced patterns on Claire's arms with her fingertips.

"Happy, Faith?" Claire said again, remembering the thumbs-up maneuver from earlier, and employing it now. "Are you happy, love?"

Faith giggled again and grabbed Claire's thumb in her little hand.

"Faith, no..." Claire couldn't help but chuckle, as well. "See? Thumbs-up if you're happy, Faith. Happy?" She tried again with her free thumb.

Faith giggled yet again, but this time, she returned the gesture. Claire laughed out loud and brought the little fist, still holding her thumb, to her lips to cover with kisses.

"I'm happy, too, baby girl," Claire said. "Very happy."

She gave another little giggle before squirming out of Claire's arms and pattering out of the kitchen. Claire cleaned up after herself and returned to the table to continue nursing her own milkshake. Faith bounded back in with a DVD box in hand and held it expectantly up to Claire. Claire smiled and took it in her hands.

"Ah, all about animals today, hm?" She cocked an eyebrow at Faith. Tonight's choice was The Lion King. This was typical, even back in Oxfordshire. Faith would toddle up to either Claire or Frank with a DVD after dinner and expect help to get it ready, so she could watch her movie before bed. More often than not, Frank would wordlessly hand the box over to Claire instead, and after a while Faith learned to only bring it to Claire.

Claire put the DVD in as Faith went into her room, returning with her baby Simba stuffed animal to watch with. She settled onto the couch, now righted to its position in the middle of the room, centered and straightened. There were still boxes and messes, but things were slowly coming together. Claire took this opportunity while Faith was glued to the telly to get to some more boxes. She peeled the tape off a particularly heavy box, and smiled to herself at the sight of the picture frames inside, covered in bubble wrap. She moved behind the couch to the long table pushed against it, exactly where she'd planned to put said pictures. She unwrapped them all lovingly and arranged them on the table: an infant Faith fast asleep like a little angel on Claire's shoulder; Faith in the photo studio with a large, plastic number "1" for her first birthday; Claire holding Faith on a carousel, smiling like a fool at her toddler aged daughter; Faith, two-and-a-half, grabbing at Frank's cheeks and laughing her head off.

Christ.

Claire froze, a hard lump forming in her throat as the opening chords to "Circle of Life" filled her ears. What was she supposed to do with this? Why had she even packed it? Well, that was easy enough: Faith looked simply darling. But...

She ran trembling fingers over both of their faces behind the glass, sighing with a shudder.

Oh, Frank...How happy we once were.

Indecisive, Claire put the frame back in the box, reaching for another to unwrap: Faith mid-bite of a chocolate-chip pancake at the breakfast table. The older she got, the less complacent she'd been for photo opportunities, so Claire had to content herself with capturing candid, silly moments like this, and she honestly would not have had it any other way. She stood it up next to the carousel shot and reached for another.

God damn it.

Claire holding Faith at the church the day of her christening, Frank's arm wrapped around Claire's shoulders, smiling proudly.

Fuck you.

Claire pressed the frame face-down into the table, biting her bottom lip to stifle a sob. How dare he stand there, looking so proud of the family that he would so quickly discard? How dare he let that little girl touch his face like that, how dare he smile at her so brightly, lead her to believe he'd always be there?

Her fingers trembled as they hovered over the keypad of numbers. Was it worth it? Couldn't she just put Faith on the plane and change her number, disappear forever?

She supposed that might not exactly be legal, no matter the terms on which Frank had left the house two weeks ago.

She somehow found the nerve to finish dialing the number and bring the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

She gulped. "Hello, Frank."

"Hello, Claire."

She cleared her throat. "I'm...I'm taking Faith to the states. And I don't think you have any right to try and stop me."

"I shouldn't think I do."

She shuddered with hatred at his indifference; though she'd expected as much, it didn't sting any less. "Alright. Good. I don't want anything from you, Frank. I am perfectly capable of taking care of her basic needs on my residency salary."

"Alright."

"But there's one thing. It's the least you can do. For the love you once bore me."

"I did not stop loving you, Claire."

"Oh, yes, you did," Claire spat.

“Claire — ”

“No, that’s enough,” she said, firmly. “Listen. I want nothing from you but the exact amount a certain therapy will cost. It’s expensive, but the doctor thinks it can really help Faith. I’m asking nothing else of you, Frank. Just around six thousand a year, broken up monthly, to pay for the therapy.”

Claire knew she likely could afford the therapy, but things would be tight. Rent on Long Island was not cheap by any means; neither was the general cost of living there, and neither was the kind of babysitter with the qualifications necessary for taking care of someone with Faith’s needs. Not to mention she wanted to start setting money aside for a service dog, which would be an enormous investment in and of itself, but one that would certainly be worth it if it would make it easier for them to be in public places. The extra money from Frank would be worth it, no matter how sick to her stomach it made her to ask it of him.

“What sort of therapy costs that much?”

“Equine therapy.”

He scoffed. “You really believe — ”

“Yes. I do.” She had to clench her teeth and take a very deep breath through her nose to stop herself from attacking again. “Will you pay for it or not? As the man who sired her, who owes her something? Will you?”

A slight pause, then he sighed. “Fine. I don’t care how much it is, I just don’t want to deal with it.”

Claire almost choked on the expletives she swallowed. “I understand. I’ve already set aside a separate bank account for you to make deposits.” She read him the account number and the routing number, along with exact amounts needed each month.

“All you need to do is make the deposits every month. And you’ll never hear from us again.”

He sighed again. “Claire…If I could change things…”

Claire almost fell for it…but she knew what he meant.

He did not mean: “If I could change my behavior, the things I said.” He meant: “If I could change what our daughter is.”

And it made her sick.

“Goodbye, Frank.”

Faith’s humming and rocking brought Claire back to Earth. She looked up from the box to see Faith holding her stuffed Simba in the air, mirroring Rafiki on the screen doing just that. Claire chuckled to herself and swallowed any remaining urge to cry. Claire put the christening picture back in the box, deciding that she’d make a decision on what to do with it later. Perhaps she could try her hand at scissors, combine the two pictures in one frame. It would certainly be satisfying to literally cut him out of those moments in Faith’s life.

But on the other hand…was that cruel? Would Faith someday learn to verbally or otherwise communicate the question: Where did Daddy go? Should she keep these pictures intact for that purpose? What Claire would want to say in response to such a question would be that Faith did not have a Daddy and that she didn’t need one. But perhaps that was doing her an injustice.

Claire reached for another picture.

Yes…that was something that could wait to be decided on.

Claire had made a considerable dent in her unpacking venture by the time Faith’s movie finished, and she was altogether quite satisfied with her work.

“What do you think of that, Faith?” Claire sighed contentedly as she removed the DVD from the player and put it back in the box. “Your disorganized-as-all-get-out Mummy is actually getting somewhere with her organizing.” Faith slid off the couch to take the box from her so she could put it back where she found it. “Isn’t that a marvel?”

Claire watched with piqued interest as Faith sat on her knees in front of the little entertainment center, the cupboard beneath the telly opened for her inspection. Faith had a system, some sort of arrangement of her movies that she always abided by. Not a single movie was ever out of place. Claire could not for the life of her decipherer what the system was; it was something created and used only by Faith. Claire had unpacked all their movies and put them inside, only for Faith to gut the entire thing and arrange them herself. It had greatly amused Claire at the time. She’d been at it for hours.

It didn’t take long for her to return The Lion King to its apparent correct position, and then Faith shut the cupboard.

“Alright, lovie. Time to brush your teeth.”

Claire stood and led Faith into the bathroom. Claire lifted her up onto the counter to sit and Claire got to work brushing her own teeth first. Faith had not yet mastered the coordination of tooth-brushing, and Claire still did it for her every night. But her psychiatrist had said that if Faith watched her mother do it enough times, something might strike a chord one day, and she’d suddenly be an expert at dental hygiene. Apparently, Doctor Garner had seen this happen plenty of times before.

So Claire brushed, tilting her head slightly toward Faith as usual, and then moving on to brush Faith’s teeth. When she finished, Claire handed her one of the little paper cups they kept in the bathroom.

"Rinse and spit," she crooned, as she did every night.

Routine was everything to Faith, and Claire had even begun clinging to the lifeline that was knowing every next move for every day. It soothed Faith's ever present anxiety and gave her expectations for every day, and it kept Claire grounded in the reality of their lives. This was why she'd been so scared to move. Moving to the house next door to them in Oxfordshire would have been a big enough change to merit Faith's discomfort, let alone moving across an ocean to a completely different style of living. There'd certainly been an adjustment period for her routine-conditioned little girl, but it hadn't been nearly as long or as difficult as Claire had anticipated.

Doctor Garner had suggested that no matter how disorienting things were when they'd arrived at the new apartment, the sooner Claire could reestablish that same routine that Faith had been accustomed to in Oxfordshire, the better. It was the reason she'd had furniture sent to the apartment before they'd even arrived. The sooner Faith could associate the new home with the commonplace furniture, the sooner she'd begin to realize this was home now. And all that, combined with maintaining their old routines in a new place was actually working quite well.

Teeth brushed and pajamas on, Claire tucked Faith into her bed. Faith's brand new princess comforter had arrived on Wednesday, and Faith was over the moon. Claire hadn't yet had a problem getting her to sleep since they'd put it on the bed. Claire filled the medicine dropper from the liquid Risperdal bottle, and Faith dutifully opened her mouth to let Claire drop it in, her face screwing up in the usual disgust to taste the bitter liquid.

"Swallow, please," Claire said, cocking an eyebrow. Faith grimaced, but obeyed. "Good girl."

Claire knew full well that Faith hated the taste of her medicine; it had been an utter nightmare to get her to take it every night at first. She'd had to bribe her with a Smartie every time she took it. Claire had a little stash of M&Ms (apparently the American equivalent) just in case Faith was ever particularly stubborn.

Claire set the medicine aside on the nightstand and tucked Horsie (who had been properly cleaned and disinfected after being dropped in the dirt in the stable) under her arm.

"There's Horsie, darling. So you can dream of all the horses you saw today, like Pippi." She leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, love. Today was a very, very good day."

Faith smiled a toothy grin as Claire rose to turn on the nightlight. She stopped at the door to flicker off the main light and take one last look at her daughter, savoring the contentment settling in her chest and warming her from the inside out before shutting the door.

——

The next few days were not as smooth sailing.

Jamie had been quite right when he’d predicted the riding helmet would bother Faith. Since Mrs. Lickett only came by on weekdays, Claire decided it was as good a time as ever to give the helmet a try. After breakfast, Claire sat Faith on the couch and retrieved the helmet and Horsie.

“Alright, little girl.” She sat down, horse and helmet in hand. “Mister Jamie gave us this helmet. See?” She held it up to Faith. “Mister Jamie said you can’t ride Pippi unless you learn to wear the helmet.” She held both the horse and the helmet in front of Faith. “See? Horsie and helmet have to go together. Yes?”

Faith hummed happily and reached for Horsie.

“Alright…let’s see…” Claire carefully attempted to lower the helmet onto Faith’s head, but her face immediately darkened and she groaned in annoyance, averting her head.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s just a little hat. Come on, now…”

She groaned again, louder, shoving the helmet away with both of her hands.

“Wait,” Claire said quickly. “Wait here, Faith.”

Claire scrambled into her bedroom and into her closet, tearing through its contents, throwing things behind her until she found what she was looking for. A plain blue visor that she hadn’t worn in years, but kept around just in case.

“Here, Faith, look.” Claire returned to the couch and sat down. She put the visor on her own head. “See? A hat.” Faith stared at her blankly. Claire smiled and took off the visor, plopping it onto Faith’s curly head. “See?”

Faith giggled, and Claire felt a renewed sense of hope. She took the helmet back in her hands and placed it precariously atop her head. “See? It’s just a hat. It doesn’t fit Mummy’s big head, though. It was made just for you.”

Claire playfully swiped the visor off Faith's head and replaced it with the helmet, and she did not squirm away.

Claire gasped with contrived shock. "Look at you!" she gushed. Faith was beaming. "What a lovely hat, Faith!"

She hummed and bounced, and Claire laughed.

Victory!

And that was when she made her fatal mistake. She got cocky.

"Now let's just fasten it, and then you're properly wearing your new hat, yes?" Claire reached for the chin strap and fastened it. "There! All ready to ride!"

Faith's entire demeanor changed, her little brow furrowing. She reached for the chinstrap and tucked her fingers underneath, starting to tug.

"It's okay, darling."

Faith began groaning.

"Hey, it's okay, Faith." Claire, having prepared for exactly this, reached for the yellow stress ball from the stables on the coffee table. "Faith, here, love. It's okay." She put the ball in one of her hands, but Faith did not latch on. She let it fall to the ground, not removing her fingers from beneath the chin strap. Dread settled into the pit of her stomach.

“Faith…” Claire stooped down to retrieve the ball, then realized it had rolled halfway across the room. She got up from the couch to pick it up, and when she turned around, Faith was tugging forcefully on the helmet, the chin strap digging into her throat.

“Faith!” Claire dropped the ball again and practically leapt back onto the couch. “Stop!”

Fingers trembling, Claire frantically fumbled with the clasp of the chin strap, desperately trying to stop her daughter from choking herself. The second she was free, Faith gave a loud wail and hurled the helmet across the room, causing Claire to jump back in shock.

Claire was too stunned to scold her right away, her medical degree kicking into full gear as she examined her neck and throat for any marks, listened to see if her breathing was normal. Once she was certain everything was alright, Claire firmly seized one of her wrists.

“We do not throw things, Faith.” Faith began squirming, pawing at her mother’s hand. “Faith, look at me, please. I need you to look at my eyes, Faith.”

She gave a loud wail and a particularly hard yank.

“We do not throw things. Do you hear me, young lady?”

A sharp pain suddenly stuck itself into Claire’s hand, and she cried out. She immediately released Faith’s wrist and recoiled her hand into herself.

She bloody bit me.

Faith wriggled off the couch and bolted for the front door. She started tugging on the handle, determined to open the door and get as far away as her little legs would carry. Claire knew she’d really do it, too, if the door wasn’t locked.

Claire briefly sucked at the blood that started slowly trickling from her hand and then strode to the front door.

“You’re not going anywhere, little girl.” She scooped Faith around the torso with one arm and carried her, kicking and screaming into her bedroom to deposit her on the bed.

“Listen to me, Faith. If you do not calm down this instant you’ll not have any dessert tonight. Do you hear me?”

Faith shrieked. She’d certainly heard.

“I’m going to count to ten! If I get to ten and you’ve not stopped crying, no dessert.”

Claire hadn’t even gotten to three when Faith started throwing her stuffed animals in her direction. Claire continued counting calmly, knowing full well that the cotton toys would not hurt her. It was only when she reached for the lamp on her nightstand that she stopped at seven, lurching forward to stop her.

“No!” Claire shouted. Faith immediately released the lamp and clamped her hands over her ears, and a horrible, searing guilt burned her gut.

“Faith, baby, I’m sorry…I’m sorry, darling…” Claire sat down on the bed beside her and made to wrap her arms around her daughter, but she hesitated. Would she bite again, or punch, or kick?

Claire felt shameful tears stinging her eyes. Was she no better than Frank, raising her voice at her audio-sensitive daughter when she was being slightly difficult?

She shouldn’t have fastened the chin strap. She should have just let her get used to the helmet itself first. She maybe should have even waited for Mrs. Lickett to try the chinstrap. And now, because of her carelessness, she’d triggered her daughter’s biggest anxiety, and the poor girl was screaming her little head off, red in the face, because of her own mother.

Claire noticed, almost too late, that her hand was about to bleed on Faith’s brand new comforter. She hissed a frustrated “fuck” under her breath and quickly made her way to the bathroom to tend to it. She hastily wrapped some gauze around it and made her way back into Faith’s room to find her in the exact same position, hands on her ears, screaming. Claire sighed in defeat and quickly wiped her eyes clear of the tears that threatened to spill over. Perhaps it would be best if she just left her for now. There was no telling if she’d do something violent again if Claire tried to comfort her, and there was no consoling her otherwise. Claire decided to remove the lamp and anything else heavy that she could throw before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

Only when the door was shut did Claire finally allow herself to cry.

She didn’t care that Faith could have broken a lamp and shattered a lightbulb on the new wood floors; she didn’t even care that her own daughter had drawn blood from her with her teeth. What hurt worse than that was knowing that her little girl was in turmoil because of triggers that her own mother couldn’t understand, couldn’t make better, things that Faith was not able to communicate to her or to anyone. And to make matters worse, she couldn’t even comfort her. When she was a baby, before she was symptomatic, all Claire had to do was scoop her out of her crib and rock her, bounce her, sing to her, and all her anxieties would cease, her crying would stop. But now, the older Faith got, it felt like Claire was less and less capable of providing that comfort, that sense of security.

I’m her mother. That’s my job.

And I’m failing.

Claire dumped the contents of Faith’s room that she’d emptied onto the couch and collapsed next to them, letting her tears fall freely. Somewhere in her fevered brain, she had the sense to pick up her phone from the coffee table and text Gillian. She typed: “Hey, could I call you right now?” then quickly backspaced and tried again: “Hey, are you busy right now?” She hit send, and then frantically added in a second message: “No emergency. Just miss you and want to hear your voice.”

After she hit send the second time, she let her phone rest in her lap and rested her head back on the couch cushion. Leaving Gillian had been the hardest part of leaving England. She’d been Claire’s best friend all throughout college and medical school. They’d decided to be roommates sophomore year after meeting in the pre-med program, and they’d never lived separately again until Claire’s wedding, at which, of course, Gillian had been the maid of honor. They were two peas in a pod, though one wouldn’t think so to see them separately. Gillian was brash and loud, and delightfully inappropriate more often than not. Gillian liked to say that Claire was the odd one out, that she was much too proper.

Gillian had been there for Claire after Faith’s diagnosis when Frank had not. He’d muttered something about needing some air the minute they got home from the doctor, and Claire had immediately phoned Gillian, sobbing into the phone for hours.

“He’s going to leave me, he’s going to leave us…I can’t do this alone…”

Gillian scoffed. “Wi’ the way he’s acting now, I bloody hope he does leave. Feckin’ louse.”

Well, she’d gotten what she wanted.

“I never bloody liked the bastard. I knew I should ha’ said something when he proposed. God dammit.”

Gillian had been the one to assure her that she was a good mother, that Faith’s triggers were not her fault, that she was doing the best she could.

Claire just needed to hear that right now.

As expected, Claire’s phone buzzed shortly after. She picked it up, expecting it to be a text in response, but Gillian was already calling her. Claire smiled to herself and sniffled.

“Hello?” she said, already embarrassed at how snuffly she sounded.

Gillian was quiet for a moment, then said: “Oh, is that wee Faith?”

Apparently, her shrieks were loud enough to be heard across the ocean. Claire sighed. “Yup.”

“She’s having one of her meltdowns, and ye’re all upset and feelin’ like you failed her, aye? That ye made the wrong decisions?”

Claire’s eyes quickly welled up again. “Yes,” she croaked.

“Oh, Claire. Ye ken that lass thinks ye’re a bloody queen, don’t ye? She worships ye.”

“When she’s not biting me. Or throwing things at me.”

“Och, biting again, aye? Well…ye ken that’s the autism. That’s no’ yer wee Faith. She canna help it when it takes over.”

“I know. I just…”

“She loves ye, Claire. I’ve seen it wi’ my own eyes. And I ken that she knows how fiercely ye love her. The autism just makes it hard fer her to see sometimes, aye?”

Claire breathed shakily. “I know you’re right. I mean…I know all this already. It just…”

“I ken. Ye need the reassurance. ’Specially since the Sperm Donor hasnae given ye any such thing his whole miserable life.”

Despite the pain that that fact caused, Claire could not help but smirk at Gillian’s newest term of endearment for the man who sired Faith. “Right.”

“Must be hard over there, all alone.” Claire could hear the twinge of sadness in her voice.

“I miss you, too, Gi.”

“I’m counting down the days ’till Christmas. Canna wait to see my two favorite lasses.”

Claire smiled. “And I can’t wait to see my best friend, and my daughter’s Godmother.”

“I’ve got to run, I had to sneak into a supply closet to call ye. I’m in the middle of a shift — ”

“Gillian,” Claire admonished. “You shouldn’t be doing that — ”

“Nothing more important than making sure my girls are okay. Aye?”

Claire sighed and rolled her eyes, but her smile widened.

“I hear she’s still carrying on, but just let her get it out of her wee system. She’ll be back to her humming and her movies soon enough. Just wait it out. Ye ken.”

“Yeah…I know.”

“I love ye, Claire. And I miss ye. Hang in there. I’ll call ye again sometime this week when I’m no’ in the middle of a shift. I wanna hear all about this Long Island of yers.”

Claire chuckled. “Alright. I eagerly await.”

“G’bye.”

“Bye, Gi. Thank you. Love you.”

“Quite welcome.”

She hung up, and Claire dropped her phone in her lap again. Faith was going to be inconsolable for at least another half hour, and Claire didn’t think she could bear just sitting there and listening. She didn’t turn on the telly or any music, lest she miss a suspicious noise or not hear that she stopped crying, but she did get to work sorting through a few more boxes. On her way over to a particular stack, she tripped over something. She looked down to see the riding helmet. Claire grimaced and gave it a strong kick, sending it rolling under the coffee table. She almost laughed: she’d only just admonished her daughter for doing almost the exact same thing.

“Bloody fucking helmet bastard piece of shit…”

She dissolved into an incoherent string of expletives, grateful that Faith, nor anyone else, could hear her.

#outlander #outlander au #outlander fanfic #outlandwr fanfiction #claire fraser #fergus fraser #faith fraser

109 notes · View notes

disappearinginq · 4 years ago

Note

If you're still doing these: Top 5 fictional characters? Top 5 books?

I like avoiding chores, so yes - definitely still answering asks:

Top 5 Fictional Characters:

1. Sherlock Holmes - I will admit, the more recent versions of this character with Benedict Cumberbatch and Robert Downey Jr. are probably my favorite versions of Holmes, but I will read or watch pretty much anything about this man. I have even Young Sherlock and Moriarty sitting on my shelves, and even House of Silk (when I get the time). I just...I like characters that are the smartest in the room, and while I appreciate the surprise of a humble smart character, I am much closer to Sherlock and his “you can’t really be this dumb...oh. Shit. You are.”

2. Robin Hood - again, I will read or watch pretty much anything about this character, though I will always love Kevin Costner’s Prince of Thieves - and I actually did like Taron Edgerton’s portrayal in the most recent one, even though both versions were absolutely panned by critics. Probably because I wholeheartedly subscribe to taxation is theft, but also because I like any character who rips off people who have it coming to them.

3. Merlin - I should say the mythology of King Arthur and Knights of the Round Table and anyone associated with it. But anyone who knows me likes a bit of subtle magic and either snarky secret wizards or cantankerous old wizards, and to this day, Sword in the Stone is my favorite iteration of this storyline.

4. Tony Stark - Probably for the same reason I like Sherlock Holmes, I like Tony Stark, especially in the MCU. It’s one of the few times that someone is shown with a relatively not pretty version of CPTSD, and how it can alter your brain chemistry to the point of making wildly poor decisions because in your mind, it seems perfectly rational. (Do I like how Steve and everyone else just compacts the problem by complaining that Tony tries to control everything but also that everything is Tony’s fault? No - but that, in a way, is also accurate). Tony is also one of the few characters that witnesses fallout to his decisions, and learns from them. Again, not always the right lesson, but his character does learn.

5. Aliena of Shiring from Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett - I will admit, I added her after wondering why I had no women fictional characters, but I realized most of it has to do with the terrible way that women characters are written. Aliena manages to be what I would call unconquerable. The amount of crap that woman puts up with for 1000 pages and still manages to not break, keep strong, think and out maneuver life is truly awe inspiring. I love her character so much.

Top 5 Books.

Hmm. Well, we already said I would read anything about Sherlock, Robin and Merlin, so...let’s branch out.

1. Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. Follett primarily wrote spy and action novels, so this historical epic about cathedral building in a small town in England in the 12th century. It has epic everything. The characters are fantastic - True Good and True Evil, there’s a nun who places a curse on the bad guys and becomes a witch who lives in the woods. It has everything that is good about the church and everything that is bad about the church. It deals with the every day peoples’ dealings with the constant change between rulers (Empress Matilda and Stephen of Blois were going at it in a civil war after the death of Henry’s only legit son). It has a literally epic love story between Jack and Aliena, to whom every love story will forever pale in comparison, and Aliena legit walked across all of Christendom to find her True Love. Movie counterparts are Eddie Redmayne and Hayley Atwell. Everyone who is good gets a Happy Ending. Everyone who is evil gets their goddamn comeuppance in the most horrible of ways and they fucking deserve that shit.

2. Okay, so on the heels of “the most epic story of all time”, I present to you a “It’s not the greatest but I love it anyway” - Rise of Renegade X, by Chelsea Campbell, which is in fact a series, and I love the second and third installment the most, but it’s about a made up city where there are superheroes and supervillains and that’s just how life goes. Heroes are marked with an H on their thumb when they turn 16, villains with a V (it’s a plot point to explain why, but it’s a genetic thing, like a finger print), and on the main character’s 16th birthday, he expects a V and instead gets an X. He eventually tracks down his super hero dad who didn’t know that he existed, and convinces the kid to come live with his family - where he has three other children, and a wife who was permanently crippled by a supervillain. As it goes along, the series deals more and more with prejudice, racism, classism, Good versus Evil compared to Right versus Wrong, and the MC, Damien is the first person narrative, so you get all of his snarky sarcasm first hand.

3. Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo. 100% because of the world building, the fact that it is a fantasy version of Ocean’s Eleven, but also because I truly and deeply adore Kaz Brekker. One of the few characters with no particular power, he’s perfectly human, and absolutely terrifying. And while he has a character arc that I adore, it does not fundamentally hinge on him changing who he is. At the end, Kaz is still a fucking cold hearted, brilliant and scheming bastard, but the audience has an insight to him that maybe Kaz doesn’t even have himself. His issues don’t magically go away. He doesn’t have a Scrooge moment. He has his own set of principles and he stays by them, and what is so lovely is that the love interest accepts that.

4. Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater. Murder horses based on Irish/Scottish Mythology, and a horse race with said murder ponies. Need I say more?

5. Book of Lost Things by John Connolly. This is going to sound weird as a recommendation, but this book is the book of fucking nightmares. I read it for a class on Ireland because we had to pick either a story about Ireland, takes place in Ireland, or was written by an Irish person. I read this in I think an afternoon and I didn’t sleep that night. Despite the main character being like 11 years old, I would never let a kid read it. It’s a dark, true-to-Grimms’-source fairy tale that is like the twisted version of the Chronicles of Narnia, and a psychological trip and a half. I loved it. It is a true fairy tale - the kid, David, mom dies in the first chapter, and David feels like he failed her because he’d developed this SEVERE OCD ritual that he believed would keep his mother alive (it obviously doesn’t), and his dad, months later, remarries and has a second child, whom David hates. The baby cries all the time, the young mother is preoccupied with a baby and no husband (he’s off fighting in WWII), and David is left to occupy himself most of the time. They move out of London because of the Blitz, to David’s mother’s family estate. It’s old, and creepy, and the garden seems like something is calling to him, that sets a dread in the pit of his stomach when he goes near it. Enter the Crooked Man, a man who offers to give David everything he wants if David tells him his brother’s name. David refuses, and that night, a German plane crashes in the garden, and it turns out, that’s the portal/wardrobe to another world, and David gets dragged into it. And it just goes from there.

Thanks for the asks! They’re always fun!

10 notes · View notes