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sgiandubh · 9 months ago

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Onlies at large

Sometimes (often, even), I can't sleep. And when I can't sleep, I get easily bored, if not focused on something. And there was nothing of particular import on Netflix or Amazon Prime, yesterday night. Aaand, as I don't have access to my bookshelves back home, I went looking for a light something to read myself to the Land of Nod.

I am, since forever, a solid reader of non-fiction. Memoirs, diaries are a special interest, too. So I just wanted to see if there were any nice memoirs of people who went to Scotland in search of a new life/love/whatever, Under The Tuscan Sun -style. Everand/Scribd is a decent starting point for the such, at 2 AM.

There weren't and I wonder why. But as I was browsing around, lo and behold, I found a tiny, self-published memoir by a certain Ninya (not her real name, of course): Scotland with a Stranger (2020).

Great literature it is not. It is naive and the narrative line sounded really, really meh to me: a 43 year old Alabama depressed divorcee finds healing and a renewed purpose for life, while traveling to Scotland with an improbable companion.

So, I skimmed and skimmed and skimmed (FFS, when is she going to PACK, this one?). Then, I found this and no, I am not sorry AT ALL for the length (passages are bolded by me).

Thank you Baby Jesus, she finally made it to her EDI flight:

'(...) I noticed a little emblem on the shirts of many of the women on this flight. It looked like mountains and said Peaker. All the women were laughing and chatting and carrying on like they had known each other forever.

“Is this your first trip to Scotland?” I tried to make small talk with the lady next to me.

“Heavens, no! It’s my sixth.”

“Wow,” I said. “It’s such a big world, but you keep coming back here?”

“Yes, it’s just incredibly beautiful. I never get tired of it. There is no other place as magical on earth.” She smiled wistfully. “I’m actually coming for a gala.”

“A gala?” I parroted back to her. I thought galas were reserved for Barbie movies. In my social circle, no one I knew ever attended a gala.

“Yes! It’s called My Peak Challenge.” She leaned in closer, excited to share. “Have you read the Outlander series?”

“Funny you ask that because I just downloaded the first book.” It seemed like required reading when you went to Scotland. I loved to read and had nothing but time due to my social media fast, so it was sitting unopened on my iPad.

“Well, the character of Jamie is played by Sam Heughan, and he is the founder of My Peak Challenge. It’s not just a club; it’s a movement, and every year they have a gala in Edinburgh. People come from all over the world for this event.”

The germaphobe next to me chimed in. “This is my first year, but he has truly changed my life. I’ve lost twenty-two pounds.” I was impressed, having weighed nearly two hundred myself at one point. Losing sixty of it was one of the biggest accomplishments of my life.

“Losing weight is so hard,” I commiserated with her. “How did you do it?”

“The boring way, eating right and exercising.” She laughed, and I laughed with her because I knew too well it was the only way that worked long-term.

She continued on. “My Peak Challenge is a training and nutrition program where we support and challenge each other, but it’s not just that because Sam has raised nearly two million dollars for charities all over the world. He’s just incredible.” She was practically swooning and literally fanning herself. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was hot, or because she was.

That nutrition program must include the Sam Heughan is a God Kool-aid.

“This conference includes a meet and greet and a gala and a special workout that Sam leads. He’s just an amazing human being,” she gushed. She clearly was in love with Sam Heughan.

“I have been chosen to introduce him,” the sweet older lady to my left said. “So, I’ve got the next eight hours to figure out the words to say to introduce the man who has completely changed my life.”

“Yes!” She went on. “It’s an incredible organization. He’s really affecting change on a global level.” (sic!)

Great. I am stuck between two evangelists at a Sam Heughan-is-the-greatest-human-in-the-world presentation.

“We have a Facebook group, and everyone is just so awesome and supportive. It really is a family.”

“And how much does it cost to be in this family?” I asked skeptically.

“It wasn’t much,” she defended, quickly changing the topic. “Nearly every penny is donated to charity. He is changing lives,” she stressed so incredibly seriously I had to cover my mouth to stifle a giggle.

Is this a cult? It sounds like a cult. I am trapped on an airplane for the next eight hours with the Sam Heughan cult.

Luckily for me, headphones exist. It was an overnight flight, which meant I could close my eyes and pretend to sleep, and there were movies to be seen.' (Ninya - Scotland with a Stranger: A Memoir, Chapter Thirteen).

For some reason, I doubt Ninya ever opened that OL first tome, on her IPad or elsewhere. But the point of my post is not to poke fun at SRH, MPC and all the gracious Peakers who read and often comment on this humble blog (@ladyjane-lj, @rosfrank immediately come to mind and I am sure they are not the only ones).

The reason I quoted this passage at almost full length, despite the paltry writing skills and abysmal grammar/spelling on display (Sweet Baby Jesus, please make people see the real difference between affect and effect, thank you and amen) is that we are dealing here with a unique perspective on a sizeable chunk of this fandom. You see, Ninya has no damn agenda to promote, in OL terms. She is not a shipper, but she is not an Anti, either. She couldn't care less if S+C=❤️, or if Tait rhymes with Fate (it rhymes with Bait, if you ask me). She doesn't know anything about OL, its cast, its Best Fans Ever, you and me and her.

And this is precisely why her perspective is so damn interesting. She is a mere passer-by, who failed to be grabbed in by the OTT Only Mommie gushing and who saw possessiveness and objectification disguised as love. She saw the most problematic, hypocrite and unimportant side of this whole experience and this whole fandom. And it's terrible and I am really sorry she did.

Maybe someone else than us reads this. For once, I wish they did, for it is an unadulterated, faraway echo of Real Life and the Real World. Selling that Toy Boi image is WRONG, *** and PR and TPTB. It's counterproductive and a total turnoff to real people who can't be arsed to even look for the Balmaclellan Adonis on Google, just because this fan substack is really, really embarrassing.

Of course, they blindly buy the booze, religiously sign in year after year to just about everything he sells around. Of course they show up every single time and pitch their tents on the rude city pavement in front of God Knows Which liquor store in Whoville, America. But they also show up with baked lasagna, pinch his ass (Madame Tussaud's, anyone?) and geriatrically swoon front row, cackling and giggling and catcalling like they were 12. It's also because of these women that OL lost its fabulous innocence and authenticity and it's because of these women we do have the Global Merry-Go-Round Seasonal Shitshow that keeps all of us (sickly, I am the first to admit it) engaged here.

Finally, this is also why I am closely following all the business side of this ahem, universe. It's the road less traveled by and of course, probably the most rewarding.

Shoot me, the very moment I turn into Neilie. Let it be clearly known beforehand. And no, please do not resuscitate. I'd be too ashamed.

#fandom #shitshow

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devilsrecreation · 8 months ago

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Buckle up bc this is gonna be heavy

Imagine an “It’s a Wonderful Life” type TLG fanfic/episode (ik ik cliche much?) where Jasiri starts having doubts about being an under-appreciated ruler of the Outlands after a particularly bad day. She doesn’t wish that she was never born, but she DOES start to wonder if she made the right choice of agreeing to the role of Prime Minister. Cue Ushari’s ghost visiting her in her dreams and telling her how the Outlands would be worse without her ruling it, and it soon devolves to what an alternate world would look like without her in it

-Without her, Kion’s perception of hyenas wouldn’t have changed and he wouldn’t have learned “Sisi ni Sawa”. Not only him, but she showed a lot of animals how there were good hyenas

-Not only has she saved Janja’s life multiple times, but she changed his views on life in general. He would have never started respecting the circle of life. At the most, he’d probably be dead and his boys would follow through without a leader

-Janja may have told Kion how to defeat Scar, but it was really her who convinced everyone to actually listen to him in the first place

-Life would have definitely been harder for her clan if she was never born. Madoa wouldn’t have a shoulder to cry on or anyone to assure her that the clan will get through their hardships. Hell, I don’t know if Wema and Tunu would have made it without her since she always put their needs over hers

-The rest of the Outlanders would have never had another chance had she not been a prime minister

-Reirei and her pack wouldn’t have accepted to respect the circle of life and would have been worse off had they moved

-Kiburi’s float would have stayed independent…and that would have been their downfall. Unlike the Pridelands, the Outlands have less food and water. Because of Kiburi’s pride, he wouldn’t think or trust anyone to ask for help and his float would have been starving and dehydrated. This would lead to arguments and Kiburi pushing his friends away…eventually, for good

-Mzingo would have tried to rule the Outlands, but no one, except for his parliament, would listen to him. Not even the hyenas. This would make him give up and flee the lands in search for a better life, leaving the animals they raised to fend for themselves without their wisdom

-The skinks would have stayed cold and bitter about Scar and Ushari’s deaths. If not for Jasiri’s idea to reform, all they’d be to the rest of Africa was another food option, since they wouldn’t meet Kenge or Sumu to protect them

-Speaking of Kenge and Sumu, she’s been their therapist. She listens to their problems and she’s taught them that not everyone is bad. Without her rule, the two wouldn’t have pushed themselves to be better animals and instead be all alone and bitter, the both of them dying emotionally AND physically

It could be the same for Kiburi as well. Maybe he’s tired of messing up or he doesn’t believe that he could really change because of all the bad things he’s done. But believe it or not, he’s done a lot of good things without even realizing it and the world would kind of suck if he had never been born:

-Piga would have never genuinely smiled or have his spirits lifted, not even with Ucheshi. Kiburi is his pride and joy and had he never existed, Piga simply wouldn’t have been happy. And to add on, Piga would be much harder on his kids, with Ucheshi being effected the most

-Ucheshi may be the exact opposite of Kiburi and he HAS said things like “How are we related?”. But he has never EVER encouraged her to change who she was. Kiburi is the reason she’s so happy and free, because he let her be herself. Piga wasn’t like that. Under his rules, she would have lost her spirit and become cold and untrustworthy, making others cry instead of laugh. Not to mention, Kiburi played a role in her and Makuu’s love story. His banishment and their argument was essentially the cause of them falling on love, with Makuu comforting Ucheshi and Ucheshi making Makuu laugh, which made him develop feelings for her and show his tender side. Have I mentioned how close they are? Like Kiburi is genuinely a good brother to her

-Tamka wouldn’t be accepted for who he is. Everyone judged him, everyone dismissed him for lacking intelligence. But not Kiburi. Kiburi was the first friend Tamka ever made and who didn’t seem to judge him, thus why he remained loyal. Tamka wouldn’t have anyone to really depend on without him

-Oh Nduli….poor poor Nduli. His life would have been miserable if they never met. Kiburi was the one Nduli really looked up to, the one who was always so nice and welcoming when he first hatched. It was Kiburi who convinced Piga to take him in after Kinywa died, it was Kiburi who cared for him most of his life, and it was Kiburi who promised that nothing bad was going to happen to him no matter what. Who knows what would happen to him without the best croc in his eyes?

-Neema wouldn’t have anyone to appreciate his intelligence. Sure, he’d follow Makuu and he’d still live in the Pridelands with Tamka and Nduli, but he wouldn’t be happy about it. He always really sided with Kiburi about a lot of things, he just kept quiet about it.

-If you think about it, Kiburi’s the reason Makuu turned out to be such a great leader. As hatchlings, Kiburi was Makuu’s greatest support system ever since he said he wanted to be the next leader. Makuu beating Kiburi proved to be good sparring practice and he used those skills to win the mashindano. Even after the friendship ended, he still inadvertently helped Makuu grow, with him repeatedly defeating Kiburi proving his development to the members that were still wary of the new change in leadership.

-Hodari would have never joined Makuu’s float. Hodari helped Makuu defeat Kiburi with a hurt leg and that got him to be an honorary crocodile. Without him, the rejection would have destroyed his lively, happy-go-lucky personality over time with broken dreams

-Even though it was Makuu who used to idolize Pua, not even he took some of his lessons to heart like Kiburi did. It’s subtle, but Pua can tell when someone listens to his advice and he appreciates that. It’s the little things that keep Pua going :)

-Kiburi didn’t think anything of it, but calling Kenge “big” did something to the lizard. The only other animals who did that were ones (mostly reptiles) that were smaller than him, but to have someone bigger say it so casually, it hit different. For the first time, Kenge felt truly validated. He got to be seen as an equal and that wouldn’t have been possible if Kiburi didn’t exist

-Hukumu would have kept thinking that bad/evil animals don’t change for the better, but when she met Kiburi…that changed. It was understandably hard for her to accept that her love wasn’t…the best crocodile, but he proved that he changed since then

-Wakali’s simple. Without a father to adopt and love her, she wouldn’t be alive

-Oh and Hatari would still be alive and have eventually killed all the crocodiles in the Pride Lands. His crocodile-hating reign of terror wouldn’t have ended if Kiburi wasn’t there to stop him. Not to mention the effect the lack of crocodiles would have in the circle of life

-If there’s one good thing that Kiburi is constantly doing, it’s how he ALWAYS has his friends’ backs. How he’s so protective over them and deep down, just wants everyone to be treated right. Before the dry season, all of his intentions were good. He just went about it via the crocodile way bc that’s how he was raised

Jasiri ends up getting an appreciation party for all the stuff she goes through and Kiburi comes back feeling more grateful about where he is now

#curse you brain #how dare you make me feel things for a crocodile #this is simultaneously wholesome and angsty at the same time #this whole thing is basically a jasiri and kiburi appreciation post lol #headcanons #the lion guard

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margareth-lv · 11 months ago

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🤐 Well, silence is golden, right? 🤐

I watched 'The Couple Next Door' on YouTube and I don't get it, I don't get anything at all. The series is not provocative or exciting, and even less sexy or fascinating. Episode three? Blaaah.

The most believable relationship is that between Sam and Jessica de Gouw. The chemistry between Becka and Danny in their everyday life is just electric (but it is really nothing compared to two characters from Outlander that we know very well, You-Know-Who, They-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named).

But I have to admit that there is more between Evie and Danny than the sum of lingering glances and exposed body parts.

From the other side, Danny's possible attraction to Evie is inexplicable. Why did she catch his eye? When?

(I can understand Eleanor falling instantly in love with Sam's character, with his magnificent six-pack and charisma compared to Alfred Enoch's oatmeal blandness).

But why did Danny want to get laid by Evie?

Of course, I leave aside the swinging issue and that it was "Becka who made him do wrong". Not everything can be explained by a failed exchange of sexual partners.

I feel Danny's tragedy should also be that he REALLY wanted to fuck Evie. But why did he? Nobody knows.

I know this is going to sound rude, but could Eleanor's Stiff as a Yule Log make anyone think sexy? Personally, I doubt it. So, no, I'm not buying the story.

*** *** *** Anyway, Eleanor seems much less rigid in real life than on screen. Look at the lovely, frivolous Christmas wishes she made this year in the company of her husband.

*** *** ***

🎄🎄🎄

Meanwhile, Sam spent his holidays exclusively in the company of a bottle of booze (which shares a nickname with You-Know-Who, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, though this is purely coincidental).

*** *** ***

🎄🎄🎄

She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, on the other hand, is not there at all; she has disappeared. Maybe that's even better. Sometimes non-existence is better than existence, especially given the history of unfortunate Caitríona’s Christmas posts on social media.

🎄🎄🎄

Caitríona's last IG post is from October 2023.

In a fun extra bonus to shippers, both Sam's last post (the one with the Christmas greetings) and Caitriona's last post have been liked by Villa No Ego from Los Angeles.

[December 27, 2023]

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cyarikaplease · 2 days ago

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ride

dom!din djarin x f!reader

summary: you ride the hilt of din’s vibro-knife as punishment for flirting at the club.

warnings: explicit smut, must be 18 years or older to read, dom/sub

The loud music in the Outlander Club vibrates your entire body, and the smoke hanging in the air fills your lungs. Kriff, this sucks. But it was your idea to help Din distract this bounty. You’re wearing a scantily clad dress, moving through the crowd, and scanning the room for your target; a human male named Colo. You took a good look at his bounty poster before heading inside the club but you’re still going to have to be vigilant. This place is packed and he could easily slip away without you or Din noticing.

Din’s hanging out off towards the wall to not draw too much attention to himself. He tends to do that everywhere he goes so that’s why you offered to help. And just as your eyes land on the bar, you spot Colo, sitting alone and sipping on revnog.

Now you can set your plan into motion. It’s time to flirt.

You walk up beside him, resting an elbow on the bar and looking around with wide eyes like you’re lost or something. He notices you out of the corner of his eye and turns towards you.

“You come here often?” he asks, mouth curling into a smirk.

“No,” you say, making your voice a higher pitch, “What about you?”

“I’m a regular, baby. How about I buy you a drink and show you what’s good?

“I think I have an idea about what’s good here,” you wink, internally cringing at yourself.

Maker, please be over soon.

“Oh, really?” he says, picking up what you’re unfortunately putting down.

He leans forward and rests his hand on your hip, slowly inching towards your ass and squeezing it.

“How about you tell me what that is?”

You open your mouth to respond but before you can, Colo is against the bar with Din pressing his vibro-blade against his neck. It all happened in a blur. The second the hand cupped your ass Din was on the move.

“Hands off,” he growls.

But before the fight progresses any further the bartender shouts, “Take that outside! Now!”

You’re frozen, unsure of what to do next until Din grabs your hand and physically drags you out of there. You still can’t grasp how fast all of that happened, keeping your eyes averted to the floor to avoid the stares of the club-goers before stepping outside.

And now here you are, silently walking the streets of the lower levels. You know Din is fuming underneath his helmet but… What does he have to be mad at you for? You were just trying to help.

“Din?” you say softly, looking up at him. The neon lights reflect off his armor and you can’t deny he looks sexy right now, especially when he’s mad. You looove to get under his skin even more. You know he likes it when you act like a brat. He can deny it all he wants but you know it’s true.

He doesn’t answer you so you continue.

“I don’t get why you’re mad. I was just trying to help,” you say matter-of-factly, folding your arms and pushing your breasts together. They threaten to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress. And that’s when he can’t take it anymore. He grabs your hand again and drags you down the street, but he’s going in the opposite direction of the docking yard where the Razor Crest is parked.

“Where are we going?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder at the direction you should be going.

“To teach you a lesson,” he growls, stopping at what looks like a motel, a sleazy one at that. The neon sign is broken, only a few letters lit and one of them flickering. You can’t even read what it says. He pulls you by the hand inside, and the interior is even more abysmal than the exterior. Seedy characters lurk in the shadows of the lobby, staring at you and Din while he drags you to the front desk. You’re so stunned by his actions. Din never does stuff like this. He prefers to sleep in the comfort of the Crest where he’s in control of his surroundings. Not left at the mercy of whatever goes on at night in this sleazy motel.

You don’t question it when he gets a room for tonight, anxious to see where the night takes you.

“Room one hundred and three. Down the hallway on your right.”

He takes the room key from the front desk worker and heads down the hallway, the lights flickering above you. He stops at a door, unlocks it, and shoves you inside. As soon as the door is closed he presses you up against it, bringing his helmet by your ear.

“Do you know why you need to be punished?” he growls, a hand sliding up your waist.

“...No.”

“Really?” he says with a low chuckle, “Maybe I need to help you remember.”

He grabs you by the waist and drags you over to the bed, setting you down on the edge. He stands in front of you, the bulge in his flight suit directly in your face. He grabs your chin, angles your face up towards his visor, and says, “Now, cyar’ika. Tell me why you’re getting punished.”

You try to look at the bulge that’s so close to your face by moving your head slightly. But he grips your chin tighter and teases you, “Nope. Eyes up here, slut.”

“For… for flirting with that guy at the club.”

“That’s right. I think you need to be reminded about who you belong to.”

You gulp and the hand not holding your chin pulls his cock free from his flight suit.

“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” he says, pulling you towards his groin. You open your mouth wide and keep your tongue flat, taking his length in your mouth. He thrusts back into you, forcing his cock down your through as far as it’ll go. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes but you keep going, trying your best to be a good girl for him. His hands move to either side of your face as you bob your head up and down.

You look up at him and his visor is fixed on you, watching his cock moving in and out of your mouth.

“You like sucking daddy’s cock?” he says, slapping you across the face.

You moan in response, sending vibrations down his length. He curses under his breath and slams into you harder. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore he cums down the back of your throat, holding your head flush against his groin.

“Take all of daddy’s cum like a good girl,” he commands, wiping away a tear on your cheek.

He finally releases your head and you catch your breath. Wiping away the cum leaking from your lips you ask, “My turn?”

“Not quite,” he teases, reaching forward and pulling the comforter off the bed. You watch as he grabs his vibro-blade from his boot, activating it and plunging it through the mattress. You let out a gasp, in shock that he just ruined this motel’s mattress.

“Din, what did you-”

“You can sit on that,” he says sternly.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You look at the blade vibrating inside the mattress and gulp before stripping your clothes and getting on the bed. You straddle the hilt of the vibro-blade, hovering over it. He moves behind you, reaching forward and cupping his hand under your mouth.

“Spit,” he commands.

You do as you’re told, spitting into the palm of the glove. He rubs your saliva on the hilt, lubricating it for you to sit on. You take a deep breath and lower yourself on it, feeling the vibrations throughout your core.

“Fuck yourself on it,” he says, hand returning to your chin.

You rock your hips back and forth, just as Din’s other hand caresses the outline of your breast. He pinches your nipple between his fingertips eliciting a loud moan from you. The hand on your chin clamps down on your mouth.

“Good girls are quiet,” he reminds you.

You nod and let out a soft whimper, continue to fuck yourself on the hilt.

“You have to cum on this first. Show me you’re worthy of daddy’s cock,” he continues, growling directly in your ear. He releases your mouth to take off his helmet and set it on the bed. He grabs your chin and angles your head up to face him. You catch a glimpse of him, his curls matted and his skin glistening with a layer of sweat. There’s a truly dark and primal look in his eye, watching as you writhe against him.

“Open,” he commands.

You open wide and stick your tongue out, just as he spits directly into your mouth. Just for him to clamp it shut again and return his hand over it, making you stay quiet.

With one last grind of your hips, the hilt is buried even deeper into you, and you can’t hold on any longer. You whimper against his gloved hand, trying to signal you’re gonna cum soon. You’re worried that if you don’t ask for permission somehow he’ll deny you your release.

“Gonna cum?” he says, amusement in his voice.

You whimper some more and nod incessantly.

“Soak it.”

You cum around the hilt, your walls fluttering around the metal. You feel your wetness seep out of you, running down your thighs and soaking the sheets.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, slowly releasing your nipple from his fingertips. He removes his hand from your mouth and pushes you forward so you’re on your hands and knees. The hilt slips out of you as you stick your ass up in the air for him, getting ready to take his cock.

Din hooks his hands on your hips, aligning himself with your soaking wet cunt. He thrusts into you in one clean motion, cursing under his breath before pounding into you unforgivingly.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you moan out.

“Who?”

“I belong to you, daddy!” you cry out.

“Good girl, that’s right. Daddy owns this cunt, huh?”

“Yes, daddy. It’s all yours!” you cry out again, just as he slams into you with the most force he’s used so far. You cum around his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him. He cums inside you with his cock pressed right up against your cervix, letting out a guttural moan. He pulls out of you when he’s done and you fall forward, collapsing onto the bed. The vibro-blade is still impaled in the mattress. He pulls it out and deactivates it, leaning forward and hovering over you.

“Do you understand why you were punished now?”

“Yes, daddy,” you sigh.

“You had a big night, mesh’la. Get some rest,” he says softly, lying down beside you and rubbing your back.

Just before sleep overtakes you, you whisper, “I don’t know… Maybe I need to act up again.”

“Oh there’s no maybe,” he chuckles, “You’ll act up again. But that just means I have to keep reminding you that you’re mine.”

“Sounds good to me,” you whisper, drifting off to sleep under Din’s touch.

You wake up the next morning and get ready to check out of the motel room, weirdly missing it already. But just as you turn to leave the building, one of the housekeeping employees stops Din.

“Sir?”

Oh, this is definitely about the mattress.

You both turn around to face the worker, an older woman who seems nice enough. She continues, “I don’t want to know how exactly the mattress was damaged. But we can’t let you leave until you pay a fee.”

“Okay…” Din says awkwardly.

She leads you back to the check-in desk and lets the employee stationed there handle the transaction. The woman whispers something in the other employee’s ear. You can only catch bits and pieces of what she said but definitely something about a weird stain on the mattress by the puncture mark. You look over at Din, who's staring directly at you. You’re sure he’s glaring at you under the helmet. Yeah, you’re definitely not coming back here again.

The woman sets off down the hallway to finish cleaning the mess you and Din made, just as the other employee says, “That’ll be six hundred credits.”

Six hundred credits.

Din hastily pays and grabs your hand, dragging you out of the motel and back onto the street.

“See what happens when you act up?”

“You’re the one who stabbed the bed,” you say, folding your arms.

“You're going to end up costing me a fortune,” he sighs.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” you tease.

He doesn’t deny it, of course. That’s what you thought.

#din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

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inglorionamy-ammy · 4 months ago

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Of Home and Haven (Ch4/6)

Chapter snippet:

The time has come for you and Gale to gather before your friends and families. A wedding, a departure, and some revelation.

Summary: A tender tale between an outlander barbarian and a scholarly wizard, navigating life, love, and belonging (aka. What "being together" means for them) in Waterdeep and beyond.

Pairing: Half-orc Barbarian F!Tav X Gale Mature

Word count: 3.5k

@senualothbrok: As always, my wonderful beta.

AO3 link: Here

Chapter Three: Here

[This chapter's illustration hides at the end ;)]

You have a dream; no, you never recall those fleeting fabrications of the mind. This is a memory.

You remember standing at the edge of the misty forest. As the first ray of sunshine lit up the vast plains before you, you took your first step.

You felt Da’s gaze, steady and proud. You heard Ma’s voice.

“Go, my love, my savage daughter,” she whispered, so as not to break the tranquility of the moment. “Weave your tale with your steps, one at a time. Perhaps one day, you’ll find your path back here again. But if not, then you’ll go far and wide, and be the fiercest of them all.”

So, you march, unwavering, towards the breaking dawn.

You feel Gale stir, finally. You woke up three hours ago, and have already packed your luggage and eaten your breakfast. Now you are back in bed to cradle him.

He moans hoarsely. You can almost hear his wince. Smiling with closed eyes, you reach forward and press slow circles between his shoulder blades with your thumb, eliciting a sigh of relief.

“Morning, my love,” he yawns, “I appreciate the effort, but for it to be truly effective, you may have to massage a much wider area, namely, my whole body.” He barks a surprised laugh when you reach straight to his morning erection.

Instead of using the teleportation scroll that Gale painstakingly prepared for all the guests, your parents have opted to travel on foot to Waterdeep. Ma explains apologetically that they would love to be on the road again, for nostalgic reasons. Gale beams with adoration, and almost successfully hides his slight disappointment. Only you see through how much he longs to immediately return to his tower for your shared four-poster bed.

Still, ever the gentleman, he refuses Ma’s suggestion for you two to go ahead without them. You gratefully give his lower back a comforting little rub as a promise of later massages, cheering his spirit up a bit.

“An escort mission it is, then!” Ma’s eyes twinkle with excitement.

Da grunts his agreement, swiftly throwing her luggage on his back, together with his full-battle equipment and traveling pack. Being on the road again clearly delights him. Following suit, you also lift Gale’s luggage off the ground, and when he protests, you lift him up as well. Ma’s ringing chortle echoes in the forest.

Da takes a final long look at the hut and everything else they have built over the past three decades, flooded in warm sunlight. One piece at a time, your parents had turned the desolate land into somewhere you could be birthed safely and called home. Ma quietly leans against his arm, listening to the sound of the waterwheel, lost in thoughts. You hold Gale’s hand a bit tighter than necessary. He frowns, puzzled, but he won’t be for long. You know his brilliant mind will soon connect the dots, just as you had silently found out the truth five days ago, when your Da dueled you under the moonlight.

“IT’S TIME,” Da decides.

With that, you turn and leave.

Your father has always been a silent man. He never really sits down and tells tales like Ma does, including his own. But he doesn’t need to. You can observe.

You saw how among all enemies he destroyed orcs with the most intense hatred. Every time, he would mark their bodies at the back of their neck, the same place where he has a scar.

You saw how hard he trained you to be self-reliant and dominant, so that you would never fall prey to any malicious intent, no matter who you might encounter. Never subservient, never a slave.

You saw how he hoarded gold and jewelries in the secret basement under the hut, things that were worth nothing in this forest but were worth a fortune in any nearby settlements, and pressed the keys into Ma’s hand, preparing for the inevitable.

You saw his eyes soften with affection, when you and Ma had laughed over some witty jokes Gale made, and he thought no one else was watching him. You saw his silver dreadlocks, once dark but now fully grayed, glowing under the moonlight. You saw him training, harder than ever, ready for the road again. You know he has made his choice.

One evening, you and Gale are sitting next to the campfire, alone at last. Earlier, your parents had retired for the night, saying that they would like to stargaze together at a nearby ruin.

At first, you had wanted to bear the secret alone for a little longer, to not overshadow his joy for the approaching wedding. Yet, you can recognize the look of hesitation and the urge to know on his face, so you prepare for his enquiry.

“There’s more to this trip, isn’t there,” he starts, carefully choosing his words. “There’s something…solemn, about it,” a nervous chuckle, “I certainly hope that it wasn’t inspired by our union.”

You immediately shake your head. Nothing is further from the truth. In fact, Da would not make this decision if he had found Gale unworthy.

“No,” you pause, “Just that Da is about to leave.”

“Leave?” He raises an eyebrow, “What, you mean, alone? And at this age—”

He halts, realization hitting him. He has read every scattered piece of research he could find on half-orcs. Not much was written on culture, since many assumed your kind don’t have that. But a great deal on your physicality was available. He knows that half-orcs mature faster than humans, that at sixteen they are considered an adult, at fifty an elder, and most don’t live much longer than sixty. For a robust warrior like your Da, extra physical prowess came with the cost of quickened deterioration. In a few years’ time his health will sharply decline, and he will no longer be able to support his heavy, muscular physique, let alone wield it in a meaningful way. A weapon will turn into a burden.

You nod. With a pat you invite him to sit on your lap, a futile gesture of comfort. Still, you reach out to slowly apply soothing pressure to the muscle at the back of his neck, as you explain Da’s teachings.

“A half-orc does not die in bed with sickness and old age, immobile, mourned and pitied. They die in the battlefield, breathe their last breath as a warrior and are celebrated as one. It is in this way that those who cherish them will always remember them by their potency and glory, not by fragility and death.” His fights replay in your mind, always proud, always ready. “After the wedding, Ma and I will see him off.”

For a while Gale is quiet, and so is the world. The only sound you can hear is the fire crackling. You continue to knead into him, untangling the knots in his body. A moment later, he lets out a deep breath.

“Every time I think I have deciphered the truth of your heritage, I am always humbled by the limits of my understanding.”

He chuckles in resignation, then turns to you, his voice soft but burning with urgency.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way…but I might never be able to see the appeal in that. Back when I was afflicted, a lonely, brutal death had seemed to be my fate. I used to think I could embrace it, like some sort of martyr, and it was you, my love, who showed me otherwise.”

His palm moves to your hand on his shoulder and holds it, fingers intertwined.

“Now, without it, I’ve always hoped that my last moments would be spent in the arms of my beloved, surrounded by friends instead of foes.”

You think about that.

“That’s beautiful too,” you decide.

Five days before your wedding, Gale’s tower has turned into some kind of tavern. You watch him, in awe, as he uses scrolls combined with his own magic to remold the interior, stretching corridors, opening new rooms, and decorating them with a snap of his fingers. Ma claps with wonder, clearly enjoying the performance. Even Da nods his approval. Gale makes an exaggerated bow in gentlemanly fashion, barely hiding a smirk.

Halsin, the massive former archdruid, is the first to arrive. After a brief handshake, a big hug follows, and between the two of you Gale is thoroughly squeezed. Shadowheart arrives an hour later, silvery hair matched by a slivery gown. You only get to greet each other briefly before she is whisked away. Her elegant presence has attracted both the attention of Morena and your Ma, and as they chat away you sense Gale’s slight unease. Hidden childhood embarrassments are sure to be spilled. You politely fight the urge to listen in.

A day later, a sudden rush of sulphur fills the front yard, follows by a snap of the air. You and Da immediately spring into a battle stance, only to relax as Karlach and Wyll step out from the Hell’s portal, hand in hand. A warmth fills your heart.

“Wyll, my friend!” Gale shouts in excitement, pulling the man into a tight embrace.

With her lover occupied, Karlach looks around and spots your Da. The pair’s gazes lock, and wild grins are shared. After that, there isn’t a day that the tower is free of the sound of sparring. You sometimes join in as an effective way to flirt with Gale.

In the evening before the union, Astarion knocks on the door, face hidden under a cloak. The rogue rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance when Gale jokes how surprised he is that the man is in fact capable of knocking. Astarion however immediately gets his comeback when he silences you all with a removal of his cloak, revealing a red and black doublet with the most intricately golden embroidery you have ever seen, his own proud work. The vampire spawn is gorgeous.

“Well, my dear wizard, I could still offer some fashion advice for the most special day in your life, if you ask very nicely,” he purrs, dragging out every syllable.

It is late, but none of you are preparing to sleep. The ceremony starts tomorrow night so you suppose you can steal a rest the coming morning. Except for Lae’zel, Jaheira, and Minsc and Boo, who will be attending the ceremony directly, the whole party has once again gathered. There are too many drinks to down, songs to sing, and gossips to share. Shadowheart and Astarion have retreated to a corner, making sarcastic remarks with wine twirling in their hands. Halsin and Da somehow find themselves in an arm-wrestling contest with Ma as the judge, and you are amused to find Morena right next to her watching with bated breath, the two mothers nearly inseparable for the past few days. At the corner of your eye, Wyll is reporting to Tara on the arrangements for tomorrow, the Blade of Avernus heeding command from the mighty Tressym. You feel at home, at ease, with your favorite wizard reclining in your embrace.

Karlach walks over, slightly drunk.

“Soldier!” She salutes.

You hum, smiling, signaling her to sit beside you. Over the past days you have learnt that her war in the Hells is almost over, and she has gained more allies than any of you would have expected. The House of Hope is now a rebellion camp. You are so proud of her.

“Awww, you two are so sweet!”

She throws an arm around you and leans on your shoulder, her mechanical heartbeat loud and hot. You tilt your head slightly to give her space without bumping into her horns.

“I could say the same about you and Wyll!” Gale replies with a chuckle. “I have always suspected a spark. All it takes is some hells fire to ignite it.” His eyes are dreamy as he asks, “when will we be attending your wedding?”

“Oi, you!” Karlach swats his arm, making him wince. “Another word from you and I may end up hijacking your big day!”

That gets a throaty laugh. “I am not sure I’m opposed to that.” Gale glances up at you with his bright brown eyes. “My love, I suppose we have room for a double wedding?” He adds cheekily, “Please?”

“Making plans without me, hm?” Wyll walks over, standing in front of you all with mock parental disapproval, hands on hips. “I’m sorry to be the one who ruins the fun, but Lady Tara has ordered that the bride and the groom must be separated for the night, not to meet until the ceremony.”

Gale whines unceremoniously and you hold him tighter. “Make me,” you challenge.

Karlach lands a tickle attack.

Instantly the room breaks into chaos. As you and Karlach end up on the floor wrestling in laugher, and Wyll tries to pry Gale away while avoiding the kicks and grabs, you see Da shaking his head with a toothy grin.

He is contented.

The time has come for you and Gale to gather before your friends and families.

The ceremony is held at the Heroes’ Garden. When the band starts to play, you step forward with your parents. Two gigantic half-orcs and a delicate human woman proves to be quite a sight. You hold your head up high, letting the moon rays light up the gold braided in your hair and adorning your body.

The aisles of chairs are filled with faces both familiar and unfamiliar. The Dekarios clan does take up a large portion of the seats, all of its members transfixed with curiosity, except for Morena, who looks at you with warm encouragement. Several wizards in formal attire, which you assume are Gale’s closer colleagues, quirk their heads as you walk past.

In comparison, your companions’ reaction are much more passionate. You are grateful to see all of them make it on time. Lae’zel has arrived in the form of a slightly flickering astral projection as promised, giving you an approving nod. Minsc and Boo almost jump up from their seats in excitement, barely held down by Jaheira. You are also greeted by some jolly tieflings, among them Alfira, who is wiping her joyful tears. Next to her a dragonborn stranger is clinging to her, somehow sobbing harder. Even Omeluum and Blurg grace you with their presence, and behind them is Elminster, who has closed his eyes as if enchanted by the melody.

Then you see Jina hugging her two sons, one on each side. You smile and give her a little wave. The boys squeal in excitement, shaking their mother.

Only then do you finally, finally, allow yourself to gaze upon Gale Dekarios, your husband-to-be, standing before the altar in his full glory. He looks back at you with the same fervor, his eyes wide with amazement, as if he cannot believe his sight, his luck. As he slowly exhales, you can tell that he is trying hard to control his expression. Wyll, who is standing next to him, gives him a supportive little bump.

He is so beautiful, and in a moment, he will be yours. You will away a primal urge to claim him right then and there, and instead nod to Halsin, signaling for him to start the ceremony.

“And now, standing among Nature and the beauty of Oak Father’s abundant creation, the bride and the groom shall exchange these rings to seal the vows.”

Wyll brings out a pair of earrings, two simple golden pieces adorned with blue sapphires. You have chosen the form of an earring instead of one worn on the finger to avoid the jewelry getting in the way of a throwing fist. Gale has chosen the style, opting for stones that speak of loyalty, of the joining of your souls.

His tender fingers reach out to you, quivering slightly as he lets out a shaking breath. They glaze past your cheek before reaching their destination, and gently fix the small adornment on your left ear lobe. You grin at him, and he mirrors you.

You then reach for him, your thumb wiping away his tears in a featherlight stroke, before slipping to his ear. There his silver earring confronts you, dangling. You slowly remove it, resisting the urge to dump it somewhere far, and drop it into his palm.

Because for him, keeping the symbol of Mystra is less about clinging to a lost love than a continuous process to navigate her inevitable role in his life, for the past, the present, and the future. You know that as a wizard, he will always be connected to her in one way or another, but in what ways, he will have to decide for himself. For so long you have waited, and now the time has come. In the meantime, you silently replace the empty space with your shared symbol of love, giving him a new anchor.

When you are finished, he lowers his gaze to his open hand.

He closes it, and with a deep breath throws the earring into the pond behind you. Someone in the crowd cheers.

With that, you crush your lips into his. You are now as much of a Dekarios as he is a Riversong, your dancing tongues celebrating your union. His scent of sandalwood embraces you fully, as much as your musk, a mixture of the warmth of the sun and the freshness of the soil, fills up his world. You cup his face, pulling him even closer.

“Welcome home,” he mumbles against your lips.

Some parts deep inside you wish the morning light would never come. You wonder, when you were sixteen and ready to leave, did your parents feel the same?

Yet after all the singing and dancing and feasting, the dawn does break, and now you are standing at the city gates of Waterdeep, with your parents and your new husband by your side.

More have come. Your companions, having now made the acquaintance of your father, march together from the garden to the gate. Karlach has picked a weapon with him from the collection you have built up during your shared adventure. You are still in your wedding dress, your dreadlocks styled by your mother into a gilded braid, spiraled like a crown on your head. A simple golden necklace sits on your exposed collarbones, shiny against your purplish skin. Ma told you that it was something she had worn on the day she followed Da into the wild. You touch its chain softly, worshipping the memory it carries.

Your father seems joyful. He has told you, with spoken words more verbose than usual, how honored he is to be seen off by the Heroes of Baldur’s Gate. A sign of fortune, of victory.

He stands in front of Gale and greets him with a bow. Gale, though with turmoil in his eyes, returns the gesture. You remember how Gale struggles to see absence as an act of love, growing up with a father who disappeared without a word, leaving him and his mother to mend their broken hearts.

Da then walks to Ma and cups her face with his palm. Gently, their foreheads rest against each other.

“ELENA, MY LOVE,” he says. “BE WELL.”

And Ma simply nods with a smile, eyes shimmering. Everything that needs to be said has already been conveyed through decades of companionship.

Finally, he walks to you.

“MY GIRL, DO NOT GRIEVE MY DEPARTURE.” He holds your gaze, intense as forge flame. “IN SOLITUDE WE COME, IN SOLITUDE WE GO. SUCH IS OUR PRIDE, THE DESTINY OF A HALF-ORC.”

At the corner of your eye you see Gale turn away, the words too heavy for him to bear. He has just welcomed you into his embrace, far from ready for a foretelling of parting. Your heart aches for him, so you must ask—

“What about for a half-human?”

Gale’s eyes snap back to you, and for a while your father is startled. Then, a beam, the brightest you have ever seen, blossoms on his face. With his wrinkles softened by the morning sunlight, he suddenly looks young again. Perhaps that was what he looked like when Ma first met him, when he saved her from an orc raid all those years ago.

“THAT, MY GIRL, IS FOR YOU TO FIND OUT.”

You snort. What a cheeky answer from him, your lifelong coach on half-orc matters. You suddenly realize that perhaps what he has been teaching you was just his own experience, as a wandering lone ranger who fought his way out of servitude and into a noble’s heart. That perhaps there was never just one way to be a half-orc, a half-human, or anything between and beyond. So, you call to him, a resigned grin on your face.

“Go then, Da, my savage father. Walk far and wide, and be the fiercest of them all.”

With a roaring laugher, he marches, unwavering, towards the breaking dawn.

Chapter 5

The reason this chapter took forever was actually because of the illustration lol

My ambitious ass tries to capture all the key themes in this chapter in one drawing, so the complexity of it worsens my procrastinating tendency sigh

Anyway, it is here now! I have been looking forward to posting this. I see this chapter as an experiment to juxtapose the beginning and the end of a relationship.

Thank you for reading till the end. Would love to hear your thoughts :D

More of my works: Here

#bg3 #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #galemancer #fansart #myart #gale posting #barbarian tav #gale fanfic #gale x reader #gale romance #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanart

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solgasart · 9 months ago

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Ho-ho, the new cartoon stickers pack is ready! 🫰So those ones who were waiting to decorate a new Outlander page in the diary can finally grab the set right now in my RedBubble. 😻 You know what the part of the story it is, don't you? 😉

#outlander #outlander season 3 #jamie and claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #printshop #outlander starz #outlander stickers #outlander art #outlander fanart

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hiswhiteknight · 11 months ago

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Unbelievably Outlandish - Part 12

Summary: Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: It has been a super long time since I've posted, like a year or more. I'm going to try to post weekly, but it depends on my schedule. As for a tag list, I'll be starting a new one – please send me a message to be added to the tag list. I don't always get to look through comments, so please message me.

Note Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2700 (SO LONG)

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

It turned out, in Angus's mind, the dog turned out to be a good distraction for you. It kept you from running around because you found yourself always training the dog. She was an angelic thing, who always got into some kind of trouble along the way. Your whole life you've been much of a rule follower, but as of recently you were finding you had a lot in common with the dog.

With this being said, you have yet to find a name you'd like for her. Often you found yourself filling the boredom by naming old fictional characters you loved when you remember the character Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. Outside from being incredibly charming, he was intelligent, kind, and had patience and devotion for the ones he loved. You imagined you had a lot in common with Anne Shirley or you hope you did. And with that thought, you named the dog Blythe.

Jamie enjoyed watching you work with the mischievous creature. He could tell this was the first time you were filled with joy since you arrived in Scotland, "Why don't you go over and talk to the girl," Murtagh said from next to him.

He shook out of his daze, acting like he wasn't doing anything weird, "I like my bullocks, thank you."

Murtagh shook his head, "She wouldn't have that mutt if it wasn't for you, you know."

The men continue to work around and pack things away, "You and I both know she is a stubborn woman, if she wanted that dog enough she would have got it without myself or Ned mentioning a word."

"Coward," Murtagh whispered to Jamie.

"Damn right," he chuckled back.

You were working on the pups reactivity and word commands. While growing up you didn't get to have a pet, but your mother told you about when she raised dogs as a child. Your family moved around a lot, so having a pet wasn't in the cards. "Don't get too comfortable girl, we're going to be off soon," Angus barked at you from afar.

You turned around losing the smile on your face. With the time being away from the castle, you still hadn't earned much trust and you most definitely didn't give the men much energy. Outside of the pup, you were like a empty soul and it was coming to be more evident with every passing day. The dog plopped herself next to you watching Angus with her tongue out. Even Blythe was better respected and well liked by the men, even Angus though he'd deny it if anyone commented. Their acceptance of the dog made you more tolerant to their attitude and patriarchal manner. "Yes master," you bow.

"It's nice you are starting to learn your manners," he smirked back while making gestures towards the men.

With a deep inhale and low tolerance of attitude today you started to trudge towards your horse, "It was sarcasm, idiot," you grumbled.

He appeared to have the same tolerance of my attitude, "Watch your tongue girl or you'll get it cut off," Angus advanced forward while gripping his dagger.

Jamie and Murtagh were about to make a move when another man's voice appeared, "Everything alright miss," a British voice caught your attention.

Angus directed an aggressive response to the man. You turned to look at the man and in your daze started to register things about this man. He had a proper accent, boots, and his hair read a gentleman. He was clearly a British soldier and he could mean serious trouble. You turned to look at Jamie for a split second before charming a smile, "Excuse me sir," you asked, ignoring the comments from the other man to rile this man. This was not the time and place.

You could tell the tension with Dougal increased. He didn't trust what you would say, "I was asking if you were alright," he stepped forward again, ignoring the men behind you.

"Oh, I'm sorry you had to hear all that, sir. You shouldn't have had to hear a lady speak out of tune like that. It was very unbecoming of me," you looked embarrassed. Let's hope your acting skills are up to par. You ignored Murtagh mutter unbecoming to make fun of you, "It's just Angus here is a very, very, very," you paused to look at him, "Very distant cousin." You turn back to smile at the officer, "I sometimes gets so overwhelmed by his voice and tone I just lash out. I apologize," you put you hand on your heart. The dog looked up at you oddly, not recognizing your behaviors.

He smiled at you, not acknowledging the grumbling Scots behind you, "Not necessary, my lady I understand quite well actually." He bent down to scratch the puppy sitting in front of you, "I'm sorry your accent."

You scratch the back of you neck, "Right, I must sound so improper. I'm Y/N O'Mulligian. I came to visit some family here from the colonies at my brother's request. He said I could use some real life hard work. He likes to call me a debutante," you sent him a teasing smile.

Responding well to your story, he rises and smiles at you. A relief was lifted off your shoulders, you were almost past this moment when Dougal interrupted, "Enough," he shouted, "She is the guest of the clan MacKenzie and her business is none of yours." You clearly spoke too soon because the officers defenses shot back up.

"So off you go," Angus finished.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "Are you sure you are alright, miss," he looked unshaking at you. He clearly felt so much privilege he did not care remotely about the strapping Scottish men standing around him. You wanted to smack yourself in the forehead how stupid these men had to be to not recognize the importance of this one man.

Dougal looked as if he was going to fight the man. You put your arm on his bicep to stop him, "Of course, good sir," you smile, "It's nice to know chivalry is not dead. I have more hard work to learn as you can see, it was very nice meeting you."

"Pleasure is all mine," he smiled back before frowning around the man watching this moment. He backed away into the blacksmith area to continue his work.

A minute passed by and you felt a firm grip on your arm drag you towards your horse, "It's best you didn't speak," Dougal scolded in your ear.

Anger surged through your body and it took every fiber of your being to say nothing. But as you were shoved onto your horse, you looked in the direction of the soldier and back at Jamie. You knew if you yelled it'd bring attention to Jamie, a fugitive to the English Army.

You continue to seethe on the ride. Blythe sat up, doing her best to see over the horses head to look ahead. "What's the dog's name," Jamie trotted next to you.

"Blythe," you muttered directly.

"What a cute English name," he emphasized on one word of his sentence.

You pulled back on your horse and halted, "Excuse me?"

He chose to stop with you, trying to not say directly what he'd like to say. It's been odd between you and Jamie. You weren't sure if you were pushing him away out of anger or fear, but none the less at this moment it appeared to be anger, "Nothing, it's a cute name."

A sarcastic laugh left your mouth, "No, no, you had a tone," the man halt to watch another scene unfold, "You clearly have something you want to add, some hidden message you feel you want to hide. Say it."

"Nothing, you seem to just like the English a bit more than an Irish Woman from the colonies I thought would," he said like his words meant nothing. It didn't matter the fact that maybe he felt jealous or he had a right to comment on any intention or likes you have. That comment engulfed your whole body into volcano, hell fire fiery.

Heat was written all over your face and Murtagh didn't have enough time cool down your fire with rationality, "The boy is just saying, you were awfully chummy with the Brit," Angus chimed in, "like a girl in heat."

And there goes Mt. St. Helen, "Un-Fucking believable, do you know how fucking dumb you are, like every single on of you are just egg head fucking dumb," you scream enough to make the echo quake the woods around you.

"Lass," Ned sent a warning your way.

Tears started to brim your eyes and Jamie knew he'd set you up to fail again. You point to Ned, clearly a man of reason, "That man back there," you continued to yell, "Was an English Officer out patrolling." You looked to Jamie and everything deflated in you. Everything from the past and the reality of your new world just collapsed in your soul, "I was trying to save you."

A sigh leaves your lips and you talk lightly while using your hands to emphasize your point, "Men are idiots and will always fall for charm, so I used mine to protect you all," you continued to go on, "Call me a hussy, I don't care. And that plan to charm the officer actually worked until you opened your trap, my lord," you bowed your head at Dougal. Something than broke in you, in that moment, you were exhausted at being angry. You had no more fight in you. You gave Jamie another look, "I was scared. I was trying to save you," you whisper.

Taking a deep breath, you dismounted from you horse, "Now where are you going," Angus shouted at you.

The anger stirred up again, spinning around to look at him, "To relieve myself, thank you," you speak loudly while stomping into the woods.

You knew what Dougal did to Jamie in the pubs and you weren't sure why. It wasn't much of your business, but you could see it chipping into Jamie. You were stuck again in your thoughts, give into this new world and let these people in or continue to bury who you knew you were inside a dark cave and never leave.

The ride to the next village was quiet, especially after finding Scottish men hung out on display. You wanted to vomit at the lack of humanity in the cruel act. If this was the normal the British did to Scots, I'm not all shocked of their lack of kindness and trust towards me. I'm sure I wasn't helping the matter either.

When you got to the pub, you chose to join in with the drinking. The owner made a bee line as Blythe trotted behind you and laid at your feet, "Lass, we do not let do-," he stopped mid sentence from the look you were giving him. You were sitting up straight, dead face.

"You were saying, sir," you answered curtly.

"What can I get for you miss," he finished instead.

"A pint of whatever, I am not picky," you said, resting your feet on the chair in front of you.

The men went a distance away from you, you imagine to process the thing they just witnessed. A man approached you with a smile on your face and you shake your head putting your other foot on a chair and shoving it away from your table. He quickly turn around, "You'd make more friends if you weren't so prickly."

Murtagh patted at the dog, "My expression and acts are nothing but kind, sir." He shook his head, "Plus, I don't need any more friends when I only need you."

He chuckles, looking at Jamie, "It was a kind thing you did with the soldier. I'll be the only one to admit, that was a good eye you have."

"Don't think much of it, it was also self preservation because I'm not a exactly the kind British soldiers have a keen sense to protect," the man brought you your pint and you started to drink while you viewed in your surroundings.

He pointed at you, "You like everyone to think you're this cold hearted she witch."

"Maybe I am those things," you said like it didn't bother me to have that reputation.

Murtagh shook his head, "You are quite the opposite lass and the only person you are hurting are you." You roll your eyes sighing as he looks at your with a smirk, "And maybe a red headed boy who I suspect would do anything to see you smile once again." You sit up straighter as Murtagh stands while looking at you, while gesturing to Jamie. He lifts his eyebrows speaking you the truth, "Don't think I only talk to you because your good company. I get sick of seeing the boy mope around with his worry for you. A single smile from you can set his day."

You glare at him as your cheeks warm red, "Mind your business."

When he walks away, you sit and continue to process your reality and options. Every now and again you catch a glance at Jamie. You could see his expression and the change in him over the last few weeks. You stand walking your glass over to the bar with Blythe walking behind you. You could tell Dougal was about to start his speech. He wouldn't need Jamie today if you guessed right. Those hanging men were part of this community they didn't need to see Jamie's scars. You leaned against a pillar near Jamie, "You alright," you asked him catching eyes with Murtagh.

You shake off his knowing look. Jamie stood up straight looking at you bewildered from the sudden change in your demeanor, "Are you talking to me?"

"Don't make it a thing, just answer the question," you whisper.

"Aye, I'm fine," he whispers back, glancing at you for a second too long into silence. He clears his thoughts, "If you don't mind me asking, what changed your mind with speaking to me?"

You smirk, "Murtagh paid me."

He shook his head, "Sure," he was trying to hold back a smile. Something appeared to pop up in his head, "Look Deoiridh, I'm sorry about."

"No," you stopped him, "Jamie, I'm stubborn and I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not from a place like this, so."

You noticed a change in his eyes when you said his name instead of Mr. MacTavish. This is where he stopped you, "I only want to help."

"Does that mean you agree I'm stubborn because Murtagh implied I was prickly earlier and that's why I don't make friends," you say while trying to hold back a grin.

He shook his head making his red hair shake with it, “You see comments like that are a trap and I will not be stepping on that one.”

“Smart man,” you say to him.

“And now a compliment, I might think you are wanting to be my friend again,” he whispered back with a smirk.

You see Dougal getting ready to do your speech, “I should be getting out of here and up to my room. I shouldn’t be down here when,” you stopped to look at Dougal, “Well good night.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered back.

“And Jamie, just for transparency sake, the jury is still out if we are friends,” he paused appearing to hold his breath. You offer a small smile, “I need you to walk over to Murtagh and tell him I was nice then I'll consider being your friend. You know for the sake of proving Murtagh wrong. It's the price you have to pay for my friendship.” And before he can respond, you and Blythe make your way upstairs.

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