#let me kill for tamarack

[rui-drawsbox]

The silly(s)

Cove and mermaid mc r based on this post specially

[pigtailedgirl]

Due South and a Canadian White Girl North-ish

I'm so nervous. Addition: Perhaps some trigger warning for abuse and illness talk?

So I read this great Due South fanfic.

BLESSED

I think it's going in my top ten. And I have a bunch I like that deal in the same theme. In Fraser's fit of himself in the city versus northern Canada and how he finds something in the contrasts.

Still this fanfic, though it does a neat re-examine overall, and others, have an image I guess that is put out by Fraser, by the narrative, of Canada that just does not work for me.

EXAMPLE

***

"Think about being somewhere else," Cleve told him as the strings began to vibrate again. "Anywhere but here."

And he did. Where did he want to be? Anywhere but here. Yes, Cleve had indeed answered the question for him.

The MacKenzie River, strong and swift, slicing through the spruce and pine, cutting a path between the snowcapped mountains.

The frozen, inhospitable Beaufort Sea, where a man could see his own breath turn to ice on the air and blow back to his face, clinging crystals of ice on his skin and lashes.

The mighty forests of tamarack and poplar that covered the western slope of the coastal mountain ranges. The warm, gentle breezes of heady lodgepole pine scent. The soft hiss and crackle of campfire, mellowed by a handful of cedar bark.

"There you go," Cleve decided at last in a quiet, satisfied voice.

Ben smiled until his face hurt, not quiet ready to open his eyes and let go his vision just yet. The strings felt good, like the strips of cedar bark he had imagined for the fire, the neck of the guitar a more than adequate rendering of the canoe paddle the MacKenzie demanded. The smooth, time worn wood of the box pressed into his belly, a body that complemented his, perfect in its unyieldingness, yet matching his every bend and twist.

Stella the True.

Ben would have given her another name.

His eyes opened then, noticing first how the world seemed to have blurred in more ways than one, and that the smile had faded away as the memories had faded in upon him. The world was only blurry for a few seconds more, until he realized that once he blinked the beginnings of tears from his eyes, the world became amazingly clear. So much became amazingly clear.

"Don't give up on yourself, son," Cleve Abernathy's voice came from somewhere very, very far away. Fraser gave his saturated eyes to the man who had spoken.

***

"Where I come from, people help one another. If one goes without, then all go without equally, so that everyone has a chance. You don't let your neighbor's coal run out in January. You don't let their stomachs go empty when your kill is plenty. When their children don't return from the trail, you go looking for them. That's just the way it is."

***

It's beautifully written, but feels wrong to me. Feels like lies to my lived experiences. Being from a small place like Fraser, this is a beautiful sentiment, and not at all true to it's realities.

When Fraser, Due South's narrative and comedy, and fandom view the otherness of the wilderness or northern Canada, make big deals to study it, never mind just mark Canada different in broad... It feels othering. Othering in a way I think is really important to how Fraser doesn't fit in if he's got this perspective too.

I've grown with stories about people and family who lived the same kind of lives as the Fraser family. In modern ways my home here still is like this. I even lived some like this and I'm baby in comparison.

Remote and isolated. Lots of nature to be in. Law, education and medicine as tiers in the community that are mostly outsiders to the community either brought in short-term or recurring.

Even those who live here permanently now, have founded themselves career wise, and have to, going away to do it or having been born and raised elsewhere. Christ, we have to basically leave after high-school more than 1000km away. HAVE TO.

And there is a definite disconnect between this group who are outsiders and the what I would call settled persons in the emotional connection to the place and town and the ability to fit in.

If it's a truism to me, this idea of grand north, natural beauty or isolation in a small town, with the people, to get in touch with an emotional growth is the biggest lie I have ever witnessed done by people to themselves. And this is an idealism of outsiders. You don't come out into isolation or live it to get NEW emotional needs met. You don't grow yourself thinking this is something special or the true way or will fix you.

Those that say living like this is a personal spiritual ride are:

1. High on their own supply as it were, aka, either tapping what they had dormant before or pretending.

2. Doing so off the backs of those who just don't think too much about it and are where and what they are.

If I had a dollar for every doctor or therapist I met who came here and were enamored by the place, the seas and freedoms and kind people and opportunities in solitude, expected it to change the people here and them, and then ran wild because they were always dumbasses, or took advantage, or after a year of seeing it day to day still wouldn't or didn't understand how to live with it and ran or got burnt out...RICH.

Because the truth is that small communities and remoteness don't make special or perfect people or places. We aren't magic, we aren't even that different, we just face a different or smaller reality.

I'm struck by the story One Good Man paints of Fraser's grandmother, who faced early trauma, and to me tells a reality you maybe don't want to embrace fully but should reflect on before concluding the nature of life here. A young woman who saw her town burn, who saved some of the children in it, but watched the others and adults die and was also horribly physically and probably emotionally scarred by it. Who only had an idea, and with it, bravery in the face of that moment, and after the strength to hang on as her backbone tip of surviving. Any wonder then, the tough it attitude and gift of wisdom was maybe her main survival and emotional mantra. That what tied her there to keep trying to give knowledge to people and how she pushed that above emotion on her grandson was this.

I think canon does a good job of highlighting an undercurrent of why Fraser and family still didn't fit in and why Fraser and Due South is a story of growth as a person and finding his home/community is going outside. His emotional needs weren't here. That's alright to find elsewhere when you need it.

@juniperpomegranate made a really great point of difference of Fraser's north, so often idealized in show or fic, and how it isn't actually like a town. It's not imagined or filled or understood in the reality of a community. Which is hella important. Because your community and relationships is how you really fit in a place like that or in my home.

And that's people. People to connect to. People who aren't wildly different. Experiences only seem wild to outsiders. Perfection or an image of better peeps is only lauded to cover in my opinion.

We face hardships and issues. We don't face them mythically. Nature is pretty and it requires work and understanding of it, learned only from experience and listening or knowing others who have, to survive and thrive in.

The reason we have outsider law or medicine or education come in is...

Well it can be real fun when the town is faced with say influenza and has no resources, or knowledge about it. Where you have to be cajoled to get immunized by your sister dressing up in the nurse's coat and leaving, to trick you into coming out of hiding. Where Dad tells stories of my great-grandma who plastered everyone with coal oil for cures as the rock of the town. Or where, when you have criminal stuff or domestic violence or mental illness and you can't treat or stop. A woman who hurt her family for decades because she was sadly untreated and unknown Schizophrenic. When another woman my dad's age wrote of her harrowing experience of childhood, of her mom dying from cancer and her father putting her to work as a teenage girl to care for the siblings and home, and then not providing any of his income or the support people gave him for them, until she and her siblings were literally found starving. Cause he fucked off to the neighbors. Cause the whole town knew it was happening, but there was no alternative, this was just their monetary and work survival versus that family and that family's lack of social capital paired with no place to go. Where solution was when law finally came in an forcefully moved the minor kids to different fosters in villages 100s of kilometers away, this was just a daily continuation of life though for most here.

See law, as external resource, can't even do much beyond come in twice a year and judge people. Punishment for crimes is more social than moral and depends on taking a person out of the community most times. Bob Fraser, Mounties and cops who ship around to different spots, if they are good get then respect sure, but they were and always have to stay detached to not bias too. It's a hard one. It's you can have impact and respect, for example the priest use to come a couple times a year and get the good dishes out for him, but you don't build the emotional connection of say staying for the weddings after-parties of music and dancing all night. Of people crossing islands to visit each other at the end of weeks' work.

In this vein I'm not surprised Bob had a great reputation and a lot of "friends" he didn't know.

And education. Where it's people come to knowledge at you, or knowledge from you. Where it's students come to study you like you are a tropical native of the 18th century. Write their papers and go back and take your history and skills to sell and forget the here left behind. Or come dodging the drafts of the States. All our stories or archives are in a "local" museum we can't even get to without a plane ticket yo. Or again those who come to give wisdom like they are the holders and we are heathen plebs. With maybe a one in ten being someone or something honest or decent. Though I'm a little bias here. My mom was a teacher who came here in the 70s and spent her whole life teaching grade school. Literal one room school house start. Who met and married and stayed with my Dad here. Some people do catch. Some, I think like maybe the example of Fraser's grandma, which I have soft feeling for probably because of this, just really want to impart shared knowledge and get happiness from seeing it grow and having that personal shot to help it. In a small community that seed growing outwards, to see it, is freaking awesome. But key is shared. You got to learn from too.

Finally, small isolated communities need and foster their connection through the people. Who you know. How you are all related. The meme of does everybody know everyone in Canada hits lol. But that's got the inverse too. There is no privacy. Loners be seen and judged. Again, social fit and capital being supreme.

That's why the nature loner or lover is myth too. Drop you off on a pretty snow covered lake. Pretty yes, magical and just for you, no. You still need the community knowledge to know where the fish, which direction is inland or sea, where is best shelter, where is Indians in the country to help you trap, when does the supplies boats and airdrops come. Nothing is done alone okay, trust me on this. You go out to snowshoe alone on a clear day, and weather strikes and you die.

I guess my point I keep trying to rope back into is maybe the experience or place or people sound different, or magic, but it's superficial. It's no different than how stories of history or cities sound to some. Emotionally I think we run the same. I think the true beauty is in seeing that reality. That you can't be the best stuck in an unreality or hiding from finding your fit. And again the true charm of Due South and Fraser, is his going south grows himself to see it. The show gets us to play and have fun seeing it.

And that the best of people or place, Canada or States, small town or city, outsider or no...is accepting and acknowledging that difference and sameness is the way to grow. Is the best beauty.

It's how my community did grow out of most of it's struggles imo, and hopes to go further I tell ya.

So here are my recs on the wonder of difference and sameness in Due South. Again like the fic above, can't rec enough.

Here are a small sampler of finding yourself near and away.

Stars, I Have Seen Them Fall (squidge.org)

Smaller Gods - arrow (esteefee) - due South [Archive of Our Own]

Our Dancing Days - sdwolfpup - due South [Archive of Our Own]

Also, does anyone have a link to an old ds flashfic of Fraser wandering Chicago in a power outage? I loved that one.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi I was wondering if you could help me find a fic? It was a season 3 fix it that started at the tamarack scene with Sherlock telling john that they "could just run" and they leave the tamarack and hide at baker street from Mary who is obvs pissed. They talk about their relationship and get together but somehow john has to go back to mary to protect the kid I think? and they secretly write to eachother but mary finds out anyway and tries to kill them. theres a big showdown at a factory...?

Hi Lovely!

OHHHHHH!!! Hmmm, I have no idea which this one is! I need it. OMG, someone let us know which one this is!!

[allofmyfoolishways]

I wrote a thing? Eee? It’s a scene from the October Daye story that’s been rattling around in my head. I wrote it from the perspective of Toby, like all of Seanan’s books have been, because that seemed to make the most sense but I may redo it at some point. I don’t know. But hey, I wrote something for the first time in years and that’s something. 

Jolene stood at the head of the trail, arms held across her chest. Her face was impassive as she watched us approach. Quentin and I made small scrapping noises on the gravel of the parking lot as we walked, Tybalt moving soundlessly beside us. As we came to a stop in front of her, Jo’s mouth lifted in a slow tight smile and she shook her head, looking regretful. “I’m sorry, Toby, but he can’t come with you,” she said, looking at Tybalt.

I stiffened, “What?” Her mother’s domain may not be hostile territory exactly, but it was still unknown territory and I would feel a lot better with Tybalt there. Glancing up at him, I fought surprise as the outrage I expected to see on his face wasn’t there.

“No Cait Sidhe are allowed within my mother’s lands,” Jolene said, her voice softly tinged with regret. “She has a…long standing prejudice against the Courts of Cats. Tybalt may be a King, but within my mother’s domain he’d be a trespasser. It isn’t safe for him.”

I frowned, looking between her and Tybalt. He seemed far more resigned to not coming with me than I would ever have expected, which made me think that he’d been aware of this before we got here. Before I could ask, though, Jolene continued, “He can wait in the cabin, if he feels the need to wait for you,” gesturing towards the small wooden house tucked into the trees that hadn’t been there moments before.

Tybalt turned to me, holding my hands in his for a moment and looking into my face with forced calm. “Go. Find what you’re looking for. I’ll be here when you return.”

I couldn’t hold on to my frown in the face of such a send off, smiling despite my worry I squeezed his fingers before letting go and turning to Jolene. “Alright. Let’s get this over with then.”

Jolene turned without another word, heavy black boots clacking on the wooden boardwalk. Quentin and I followed, a crisp abrupt chill in the air signaling our cross over into the knowe. The thick undergrowth of the mixed temperate forest of the park gave way to an entirely different type of forest less at home on the northern coast of California. The Summerlands where like that, just because the door of the knowe opened up into Pinnacles National Park didn’t mean that’s what the inside was like.  The trees around us now were the small dark spires of spruce and tall ragged silhouettes of tamaracks, the wet ground around the boardwalk was covered in sphagnum moss and small low blueberry bushes. Jesse and Jolene had been born and raised in Maine, their mother’s realm clearly reflected her home for all that the anchor to it had moved.

We walked in a tense, brisk silence for about twenty minutes before the boardwalk ended, the bog opening out into a small clearing surrounded by paper birch and hickory trees. In the center of the clearing was a small stone keep, rough dark stone completing the feeling that we’d just walked into a place closer to Camelot than San Francisco. Instead of walking straight to the large wooden door set into the stone, Jolene continued walking, following the curving wall of the tower. At the back of the tower, opposite the door, was a small stone plinth about three feet high. On top was a small sculpted cat, curled up as through sleeping. Jolene stopped in front of it, and without looking at us, said softly, “This is the only cat allowed on my mother’s land.” She inhaled, slowly, and exhaled, hesitating just a moment before continuing. “When she was young, and foolish, one of my mother’s daughters fell in love with a young Cait Sidhe and he fell in love with her in return. You know how the cats are, they fall in love rarely and even when young, they fall in love hard. If he hadn’t been a Prince…” she stopped, sighed heavily, and then with an air of determination began again, “His people didn’t approve. They found her alone on the mountain, and beat her. She was a changeling, they were breaking no laws - they didn’t care whether they killed her, only that she stopped her impertinence of leading their Prince astray.”

Jolene turned to us, face as stony as the tower itself, “As I understand, Tybalt found her. He brought her to our mother’s door, bloody and broken, and for that she did not kill him. But forever after the boundaries have been closed to all his kind.”

[peachiseas]

oh this is fun <3 admittedly i dont have a LOT but here we go <3 all of these are ol fics that might not ever see da sun

The Killing of a Sacred Deer

A Baxter centric fic that focuses on Baxter and his ties to his family, and what first caused him to realize that they are awful people because I refuse to believe he started hating them at the age of 19. its baxter's no good very bad time

Qiu Lin's Training Arc

sort of self explanatory? qiu and eve have a training montage of sorts throughout step 2 while discussing Thangs <3 Inner Vices and Outer Demons

My demon cove au, its smut but like... smut with a lot of plot and drama. the smut is there but there's always that underlying sense of horror throughout. or at least i hope so. who knows. i'm publishin that one soon in lieu of spooky season ending

Cherry Pies and Rainy Days

my tamarack/mc fic! this one also features eve cause their pookies, essentially tamarack bakes a pie while waiting for her parents to pick her up and eve stops by to keep her company

The Recital

this. this is my qiu and tamarack fic that has been staring at me and gnawing at my flesh, its about qiu being forced to go to tamarack's recital to support her. they don't understand why at first but they see for themself that maybe, just maybe that only watching out for themself has negative consequences they havent even bothered to consider. its taking a while cause its a very heavy story despite there being no violence

--------

Aand that's it! I really don't have anyone to tag for this since I follow a lot of artists but! Feel free to reblog from me! I don't mind! Also let me know if you want to know about certain stories more <3

WIP game! thanks for the tag @jeonghoneyss <333

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I only have one wip but the document title is:

62 F HJB dance partners seungjin

I will tag @lumineescente if she wants to and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it can say I tagged them!! <3 (don't be shy really!!)

[storytimefortoasty-blog]

Lost: The Adventures of Lethallan and Kadan Part 2

Original work by Leannan420 Frightened and unsure of the situation, Lethallan attempted to fly away, but one of her wings just wouldn't work. It hung limp down her back. Fresh tears streamed down her face harder than before. "Don't be scared, Little Fairy" Kadan said in a hushed voice. "It's just a flesh wound, and I promise not to harm you. You may call me Kadan." Taking in the fear in the fairy's face and tasting it in the air, he winced a little from the gash in his torso as he backed away from her. How long was Lethallan just standing there staring at this magnificent beast, she didn't know. Dragons were a rare sight, even more rare in the woods, and thought to myths or extinct in her community. Her mind raced with questions as the silence grew. A few minutes passed and they never broke eye contact. Lethallan forgot how to work her voice and was embarrassed.... "how do I make my mouth make noise?" Her mind screamed at her! "Leth......Lethallan...." she stuttered meekly, still frightened and unsure. She mentally shook herself and spoke up, with a tad bit more confidence in her voice "My name is Lethallan. And... and....and I th-th-thank you for saving my life." Then what Kadan said finally registered. She noticed a cut on his chest and thought it odd to see silver liquid oozing from the wound. Slowly Lethallan moved toward Kadan to inspect his wound. Was she frightened still? Yes! Very! But she couldn't let him suffer in pain and bleed all over. She scanned the cave for some moss, but couldn't see any. "I'm sorry Kadan, I didn't mean to invade your home.... I also didn't plan on getting nabbed either, but it seems today just isn't my day, but then again that's what I get for exploring unknown territory. My biggest fear was getting lost-" "Stop! It's fine!" Kadan interrupted her ramble. He was worried she'd explode "you are lucky it was my cave you invaded, other dragons in the area aren't as friendly, neither are the trolls. Why are you staring at me like that?" "Oh, I'm sorry. I ramble when I'm nervous or frightened. And, you're.... well.... bleeding? I'm sorru I unsure if your blood is silver... I can pack it for you." Intrigued with this small winged creature, Kadan humored her questions, and offer of tending to is wound. He would simply decline her offer, she can't be serious... "I don't see a stream near by, is there one in here where I can find moss?" Lethallan interrupted his internal ramblings. Kadan was stunned that this innocent, frightened fairy is more worried about him, than her own safety. "There is a stream a little deeper in the cave, or if you are more comfortable we can fly to one outside the cave." Flying?! Lethallan couldn't possibly fly anywhere with her wing in its current condition. A small panic started to build in her chest her breath getting shallow and rapid, her only thought was of her home, true she didn't have many friends among and with the other fairies, but she's never slept away from her home. "Lethallan? It's alright, you needn't panic, I won't harm you, but you also do not need to stay and mend me. The bleeding will stop and I will heal later...." his words trailed off once his sharp green eyes spotted the limp wing on the ground. Kadan shook his head and continued "no wonder you're frightened, I maimed your wing." Feeling shame, he turned away. "Master Dragon, you didn't maim me, the goblin did when he snatched me. I can bind it to my back, I just can't fly. But more importantly, let's get to the closest stream and get some moss." Kadan and Lethallan wandered deeper into the cave. Lethallan looked around taking in every detail incase she needed to flee. Looking at the walls, she noticed that they had a natural sparkle to them. It looked as if the Goddess of night had placed the stars from the night sky on the wall. The passage ways around the cave twisted and turned, but soon they came to upon the stream. Lethallan gathered some moss from a nearby rock, ripped some fabric from her dress and went straight to mending Kadans' wounds. "How long have you lived here?" Lethallan asked, trying to make small talk. She was still afraid she would be eaten. "50 years. It's been quiet and a little lonely. I never get visitors, and I only leave to hunt and stretch my wings." He winced a little as Lethallan started to pack the moss. "Thank you, by the way, I know you're afraid of me, and it is kind of you to tend to me. Please don't be frightened, I won't cause you harm." Lethallan looked into his sharp green eyes and Felt the truth in his words. She was being silly, he could have eaten her at anytime. She let out a long breath and placed her hand on his wound. Her hand warmed, killing any bacteria or germs that started to grow I the gash, and stopped it from bleeding further. "I'm sorry I can't heal you completely, my magic isn't that strong yet. 50 years! And I've never seen you!" "I'm not easily seen unless I want to be. But it's getting late. Is there any place I can take you? Or I can set you up a bed roll? Like I've said, I'm not sure of proper edict. You are injured, cannot fly, and I want to help you. Admittedly, I don't know much about your kind, but I am fascinated and eager to learn much about you.... that is if you are willing to share with me." Lethallan and Kadan spoke the entire night. Kadan told stories of dragons and lore, Lethallan recited poetry and legends. They shared personal stories from their childhood, favorite foods, and even secrets that no one else knew! As the night went on, their friendship blossomed and grew. Oi and Tamarack looked down on this unlikely pairing. "Kadan isn't like the rest of my children." Oi said casually. "But he is happy! And little Lethallan is the perfect friend!" Tamaras' smile was wide on her face and with happiness in her voice she agreed. The night turned into day and after a small nap, Kadan flew Lethallan back home to her community. He landed just outside where he wouldn't frighten the other fairies if seen, but close enough that Lethallan didn't have far to walk. Lethallan hugged her new friend and promised to visit as soon as she was healed. As Lethallan walked back to her home, Kadan hid and started to journey home. Both eager to see one another again.