#the chaos of her texting is hurting my soul

[donquixotehomura]

Dracule Mihawk x Reader “Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

Angst, Hurt no comfort, just me feeling sadistic one day and writing it down

Master List

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

“wow… you're pretty” was the first thing she said to him when they met, not at all the usual that he heard, he did get compliments from women who wanted to get into his bed, but this was not a usual statement.

………………………

She confused him to no end, she didn't want to fight him, kiss up to him, get into his bed, get a favour, what's up with this woman?, he could feel her very obviously staring at him across the room, looking at her making eye contact she smiled and waved ‘odd woman’ 

………………………

“Yo! Can we be friends?” Excuse me? He looked at her as she said that, her smile radiant “pardon?” “friends! You're cool and I like how you are, let's be friends!” she said again totally ignoring the semi glare that would scare most people away, what an odd woman. 

 …………………….

“I wanna go with you! I hate it here, I want to be with you!” Mihawk looked at her, she had chased him across the garden of the extravagant palace on his way out ”you can't… This is where you belong, not on the seas” there was no safety on the seas it was dangerous for her “I don't care! I wanna go with you and I won't change my mind, either you'll let me go with you or I'll follow you on my own!” stubborn woman… (Y/N) had no experience sailing on her own, especially in the terrible storm that seemed to have covered the island representing the turbulent future, Mihawk looked at her, she had the most serious look on her face he'd ever seen not a shred of playfulness or doubt “Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?” What you're giving up? You're giving up everything to be with me“ he argued hoping she'd decide to stay “no I'm not… If I stay here and leave you, I'd be giving up everything for some useless titles and empty things” she said it so clearly, no hesitation, Mihawk was shocked and couldn't even hide it, “alright then… You better not regret it, odd Woman” he turned around to hide the small smile, (Y/N) grinned at the nickname she'd earned since they first met, grabbing the two bags she packed she ran after him to catch up then fell into pace with him.

(Years Later)

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

Rain poured down relentlessly, the sky a dark, swirling mass of clouds. The ground was a mix of mud, rain and blood turning the once serene landscape into a battlefield of chaos. (Y/N) laid on her back, her vision blurred and her mind disoriented. The cold, relentless rain mingled with the warmth of her blood, seeping into the ground beneath her.

She struggled to focus, to understand how she had come to be in this state. Flashes of memory pierced through the haze, fragments of moments shared with Dracule Mihawk.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

She saw him in their library, a rare smile touching his lips as he read aloud from an ancient text, his voice a soothing balm to her soul. They would spend hours there, wrapped in the tranquillity of their shared silence, words unnecessary to convey the depth of their bond.

Mihawk sat reading a book on the balcony, a glass of wine in hand as the sun illuminated the sky in the early hours, he felt arms wrap around him, her usual giggle filling his ears “mornin’ love” she mumbled still sleepy, he smiled faintly pulling her to his lap, her head finding place on his chest, eyes closing again “Good Morning, Mi Vida” she just giggled, she loved when he used his mother tongue.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

Another memory surfaced, of them curled up together on a stormy night much like this one. The howling wind outside was a stark contrast to the warmth and safety she felt in his arms. His fingers traced gentle patterns on her back, his voice a low murmur as he spoke of dreams and futures they would share.

(Y/N)'s heart ached as she remembered the vulnerability in his eyes during those quiet moments, the way he would let his guard down just for her. The world saw him as the Greatest Swordsman, but to her, he was a man of deep emotions and quiet strength. His words of affection, though rare, were always heartfelt and sincere.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

The memory of his proposal came to her then, vivid and clear amidst the fog of her pain. The setting sun, the ring with its radiant sapphire, and his voice, steady yet filled with emotion as he asked her to be his wife. "Will you marry me?" he had asked, his eyes reflecting a depth of feeling that took her breath away. She had said yes, tears of joy mingling with their embrace.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

A sharp pain brought her back to the present, a reminder of the severity of her injuries. She could feel the life draining from her, her strength ebbing away with each passing moment. Panic tried to take hold, but she pushed it back, focusing instead on the love she felt for Mihawk.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

As her vision dimmed, she sensed a familiar presence. Mihawk was there, his aura a beacon of strength and determination amidst the chaos. She felt his arms around her, lifting her gently from the mud.

"(Y/N)," his voice broke through the haze, filled with an urgency and fear she had never heard before. "Stay with me."

She managed a weak smile, her hand reaching up to touch his face. The rain blurred her vision, but she could still see the worry etched in his features, the desperation in his eyes.

"I can't wait to marry you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm.

Tears mingled with the rain on Mihawk's face as he held her close, his grip tightening as if sheer willpower could keep her with him. "You will, (Y/N). You will," he vowed, his voice breaking.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

Her world faded to black, but not before she felt the overwhelming love and determination emanating from him. The last sensation she was aware of was the strength of his embrace, the promise of a future together, a future she desperately wanted to see.

---

Mihawk sat motionless, cradling (Y/N)'s lifeless body as the storm raged around them. The battlefield, once filled with the sounds of clashing swords and battle cries, was now eerily silent, save for the relentless downpour and the occasional roll of thunder.

His mind raced, replaying the moments leading up to this tragic end. He had been too late. The ambush, the enemies—he had fought with all his might to reach her in time, but it hadn't been enough. The greatest swordsman in the world, yet powerless to save the woman he loved.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

Memories of their time together flooded his mind, each one a dagger to his heart. Their quiet nights reading by the fire, the soft laughter they shared, the dreams they had woven together. The proposal, filled with so much hope and love, now felt like a cruel joke played by fate.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

Mihawk looked down at (Y/N)'s pale face, her eyes closed as if she were merely sleeping. The sapphire ring on her finger sparkled faintly, a heartbreaking reminder of the future they had planned. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his hand trembling.

"I will find a way," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I will bring you back to me."

But as he sat there, the weight of reality pressed down on him. The wound was fatal, and no amount of skill or strength could undo what had been done. The realisation hit him with the force of a thousand blades, cutting deeper than any physical wound ever could.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

In the depths of his grief, Mihawk made a silent vow. He would honour her memory, he would carry her love with him always, and he would never forget the promise they made to each other. Even in death, their bond would remain unbroken.

As the rain continued to fall, mingling with his tears, Mihawk lifted (Y/N)'s body gently. He would give her the burial she deserved, a final act of love for the woman who had touched his heart in ways no one else ever could.

“Are You Even Aware Of How Dangerous It Is?”

The storm raged on, but in the midst of the darkness, Mihawk held onto the light of their love, a beacon that would guide him through the shadows of his grief. And though the future they had dreamed of would never come to pass, their love would endure, a timeless testament to the strength and beauty of their bond.

So Dangerous that Even I couldn’t Protect You

[masculinepeacock]

the story doesn't touch her

@garcavisconde || Strange Girl, Laura Marling || The Anthropocene Reviewed, John Green || Poems, Louise Glück || How Bad I Wanna Live, Maya de Vitry || Ritual is Journey, Chris Abani || @creacherkeeper || The Anthropocene Reviewed, John Green || Myth, Amythyst Kiah || @aweega

[Image Description: Ten images of text.

1: *covered in blood* i will.... *trembling* CHOOSE TO BE KIND... *in pain* i will be... NICE to others... *wanting to kill* i will see good in EVERYONE *yielding a knife* i will NOT be like those who hurt me... *screaming* i will be BETTER then who i was..."

2: "My lonely girl // MY angry girl // My brave // I love you, my strange girl".

3: "For many species of large animals in the twenty-first century, the single most important determinant of survival is whether their existence is useful to humans. But if you can't be of utility to people, the second best thing you can be is cute. You need an expressive face, ideally some large eyes. Your babies need to remind us of our babies. Something about you must make us feel guilty for eliminating you from the planet."

4: "My soul has been so fearful, so violent: forgive its brutality."

5: "only place for my heart is the very next step // only place for my hands is holding to the ground around me // i was lost from my body worse than i thought // now i love her more than ever, yeah she's all that i've got".

6: "As you lay dying I asked, What if your biggest regret? // Every kindness withheld, you said. // Every flicker of pleasure denied, you said. // Look, you said, sunlight."

7: "story magic is scared of her and the god of evil death and chaos wants to put her in a jar".

8: "But it's an exceptionally minor vice, and for whatever reason, I've always felt like I need a vice. I don't know whether this feeling is universal, but I have some way-down vibrating part of my subconscious that needs to self-destruct, at least a little bit."

9: "I said, somebody somewhere // will find what's left // Oh yeah // And we'll become a myth, man, // oh man".

10: "characters with prey animal rage // characters with both the abject terror and murderous desperation of an animal that knows it is cornered and destined to be eaten. you just can't get that kind of angst out a successful hunter. but alternatively i posit: predator animal fear. which is a totally different thing". /end ID]

[vaalthus]

Convergence Part 2 (spoilers)

Let's get into it.

Honestly, I fell in love with this full synchronization animation alone and I can see from the quality, as well as everything that comes after, is the reason why the release had to be delayed.

Truth be told, prior to this release, I was expecting Jaania's fully synchronized form to be quite the visual abomination. What with her soul being in tatters and the circumstances regarding Hesperrhodos' creation. So imagine my surprise to find a certain level of beauty in this form and it's one that perfectly encapsulates Jaania's character.

The way I see it, if Uaanta's transformation was the last stand of a hero offering up all her devotion and faith to her gods through her body and Remthalas' transformation was that of an eldritch monstrosity puppeteering its slave, then Jaania's transformation is that of a scarred woman, hence her face scar being highlighted in the transition, frantically control the order of the very world itself. Her many hands meant either guide or cut away whatever she deems fit in her eternal era of perfection.

I like how in spite of the noble intentions that's clearly driving her, these few lines really reveal the egotism that's mixed up in her reasoning. It's "her" perfect world we stand in the way in and it's our fault for wanting to stop her from a plan that could doom the very world she wants so desperately to protect. And that is reason enough determine that we don't have a future worth preserving.

I love how Draco tried to pull the same little attack on Jaania that they did to Voyna, but she just doesn't even react to it. Never change little fella.

The entire boss fight that ensues after this is truly something. Very thematically fitting in terms of Jaania's character while also somehow managing to be a step up above even the last one in part one. I'd say in spite of it being elevated to the complexity of the Inn at the Edge of Time, it still felt pretty manageable even as a Chaosweaver, so I get the thrill of kicking Jaania's butt as a weaver twice.

In addition, I feel like a lot of the pop up text and status effects that Jaania has, or gives, really cement my thoughts in that she is rather similar to Notha's character, but unlike Notha, who existed on the side of Doom/Chaos, Jaania is the epitome of Order and Destiny. Which makes her vision for Lore all the more terrifying when she shows us what a world of perfect order looks like to her because it's a complete nightmare for the Hero.

A frozen stagnant world, forever kept in stasis. One that keeps everyone from ever being hurt again but one that also keeps people from growing as they should in this world.

Fortunately, we once again prove we are more than a match for Jaania rejecting her delusion of control.

And honestly, this just as much of the sorry sight I expected to be. All that time and effort she put into the Rose, to trying, in her very misguided way, to protect everyone and everything and it's all down the drain. Her hair is almost completely white now, meaning her soul is on the very brink and the people that were sacrificed along the way have essentially been wasted.

One of these days I would like to take a further look into how the Hero views, well, heroism and how they've struggled with because it's an interesting sight.

I'm not sure what comes next for Jaania at this moment. She didn't die in her fight but it's clear her soul is not in good condition anymore. Even if she survives the trek back to surface, the Magesterium made it pretty clear they wanted her in their custody for judgement. Not only that, the judgement that remains back home in Greenguard for her actions and that of the Rose. Even if she's kept from any harsh punishment, where does she go from here? Will she sit in a wallow in misery? Try to atone for what she's done, provided she can be made to see the error of her ways? Perhaps Kara could help with that but beyond that I'm not sure what lies ahead for Jaania but I'm curious as to what comes next. I am satisfied with this conclusion.

However, there's that one little wrinkle to deal with.

THIS BUTTHEAD IS STILL BREATHING AND ABOUT TO DO THE THING!!!

....AND HE'S JACKED. I mean seriously I know the experiments made him strong as hell but good lord! I suppose it makes sense it would end this way though as our band, and even the hero, has no means of actually subduing or harming Akanthus and so it's a race to ensuring that bomb does not go off in the Mana Core as there is still no telling what it might do to the Core though my guess is still that it might corrupt it with doom energy.

As for Akanthus himself, I'm not sure. It's starting to feel like he might actually just straight up and try and bathe in the core itself to connect with it at this point. Either way, this is ending in a titan fight. >:)

We are soon to reach the end of this saga Loreians. Get ready.

[aashiquidreams]

Saturday morning, I woke up to an unexpected text message from someone from my past, a person I hadn’t heard from in a year or two. I was intrigued as I read his words. I answered his message, curious about what made him reach out after all this time. He told me he had a dream about me, stirring emotions I thought I had buried deep. I managed to stay calm and asked him what happened in the dream.

He described a scene where he was sharing personal thoughts, discussing his life with me. It felt good and relaxing—a comforting experience after a long period, he said. Hearing this brought back a flood of memories—both joyful and painful—reminding me of the complex dance of emotions we shared in our long-distance situationship.

Looking back, our relationship was a delicate fabric of dreams and fantasies, bound together by a longing that often felt unattainable. I remember the early days, the thrill of our late-night conversations where we bared our souls, each word laced with hope and desire. Yet, as time passed, the reality of our situation crept in, revealing the shadows beneath the surface. I realized I was often drawn into a cycle of hope and disappointment, chasing a mirage that never truly materialized. I had learned the hard way that sometimes we create fantasies that don’t align with reality.

After it ended, I promised myself I wouldn’t pursue relationships with men who were emotionally unavailable and from that cultural background again, nor would I engage in long-distance relationships. The emotional toll was too heavy, and the rigid expectations placed on women felt suffocating. I yearned for the freedom to express myself and live authentically without the constraints of tradition weighing me down. So when the text arrived, I felt a whirlwind of emotions—nostalgia, sadness, and the lingering whispers of what could have been.

As we continued to chat, he revealed that he was now married to his cousin, an arrangement orchestrated by his family. Hearing about his marriage reminded me of the patterns I had worked so hard to break free from in both my family and past romantic relationships. He talked about his new life with a sense of defeat, implying that his happiness didn’t really matter—what was important was his family’s satisfaction. Before that, he expressed regret for the way things unfolded between us, saying I was the best woman he ever met and that he had lost me. I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for his wife; it’s a delicate situation to navigate when a partner reflects on their past in such a way, and a reminder of how easily emotional boundaries can be crossed. I’m thankful I’m not in her position, and it struck me how easily that could have been my reality.

Yet, as I reflect on this journey, I can’t deny that a wave of nostalgia washed over me. I think about the fantasy we built together—a virtual escape from our realities, woven with hopes and dreams of an intertwined future. It was a beautiful illusion, and I felt a profound heartbreak when it came to an abrupt end. I still vividly remember the anguish of those nights, crying uncontrollably, desperately calling him while he remained silent, leaving me without an explanation or the courtesy of a goodbye. That experience mirrored the deepest wounds of my past, echoing the pain of my mother’s sudden absence during my teenage years. He knew this part of my story yet chose to replicate that abandonment, which cut even deeper. It’s an unsettling feeling when someone’s actions resurrect old traumas, reminding me just how sensitive those core parts of me still are.

Reflecting on my journey, I realize just how far I’ve come. The hurt he caused me, along with the emotional chaos, forced me to confront myself. This experience brought out the worst in me at times—towards him, but perhaps more towards myself. I learned through therapy and self-reflection that my value is not determined by how others perceive or treat me; my worth lies in how I view and feel about myself. Embracing the process of loving and caring for myself deeply, I have emerged stronger and more resilient. It’s fascinating how people from our past often resurface at the moment we’ve finally moved on and solidified our boundaries, reminding us of the growth we’ve achieved.

As I navigated these emotions, I also felt a profound sense of relief. I believe this whole experience with him reaching out was meant to show me that I was divinely protected from a life and dynamic that would have led to deep unhappiness. I really feel like I dodged a bullet—perhaps even literally. The strict expectations surrounding women in his culture would never align with my independent lifestyle. It also doesn’t completely align with how I was raised. Sure, my parents had a similar cultural and strict background, but it wasn’t as strict as his. Growing up in the West shaped me into an independent woman who thinks and acts for herself, and I cherish my freedom. Yesterday, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I used to think I could make it work with him, but now I see it clearly: I would have never fit into his world, and they would never have accepted me for who I am.

Astrologically, this relationship highlighted important emotional patterns and life lessons. With his South Node and Lilith falling in my 12th house, where I have Pluto, the connection had a deeply karmic undertone, often making it feel like we were working through unresolved issues from another time. This placement highlighted powerful themes of transformation and healing, suggesting that our bond would trigger profound introspection and spiritual awakening. This has definitely been the case for me, as I was pushed to confront my fears and unacknowledged parts of myself. The intensity of our connection, though sometimes liberating, also resurfaced past traumas that required healing. With Pluto in Capricorn nearing the end of its 16-year journey and set to transition into Aquarius in November, there’s a clear sense of closing old chapters and stepping into new beginnings. The fact that this reflection came just before the autumn equinox, a time symbolizing balance and transition, feels significant. Additionally, with Libra season now beginning—a sign tied to relationships and harmony—it feels like a cosmic reminder to fully embrace the balance I’ve found within myself. The ongoing Libra-Aries eclipse series, now approaching its final stages, resonates with my Libra rising and 7th house in Aries, emphasizing themes of relationships, balance, and personal growth as I reflect on the lessons from this chapter of my life.

As I move forward, I embrace my journey with confidence. I don’t know what the future will bring; life can be unpredictable. While I may cry or feel dramatically defeated at times, with so much fire and air in my natal chart, it can be challenging to stay calm. However, I trust in my fiery strength to guide me through. Above all, I know that God always has my back and that I’m being divinely guided and protected, even if I don’t see it in the moment. Afterward, it always makes sense. I am capable of navigating whatever lessons come my way, and each past version of me has contributed to the courage and resilience I embody today. Although my life may not be what I once envisioned, I can look in the mirror and be proud of the strength and wisdom I’ve gained.

[depressopax]

First of all. Love, love your writing! It's so good!

Secondly, if I may request some Mike ehrmantraut headcanons with a lover(reader) who is about his age. Who is just as hardened by life (they both work for Fring) but is soft with Mike when the two get close. Thank you<3

Heyyy! THANK YOU SM for your kind words! 😭❤ I'm so glad you like my work ahhhh <3

And thanks for the request!! I had so much fun writing this. It's not the type of text and genre I usually write, so it was a fun challenge! Also, I know it said headcanons, but once I started writing I came up with a whole story lol

Hope you like it and have and AMAZING day <333

The things we do - Mike Ehrmantraut x gn! reader

Fandom - Better Call Saul

Pairing: Mike Ehrmantraut x gender neutral reader Genre: Feel good, fluff, hurt/comfort Warning(s): Mentions of grief, unemployment, divorce, mental health and growing up. Cuss words. Reader is gender neutral, is 50 y/o and has two kids.  Words: 1K Summary: As close as possible to the request! Reader is turning 50, Mike 60 y/o for this story. - You and Mike have been together for about a year. The two of you share so much experiences and can relate to one another. Both being older and working for Gus Fring, you make a good team, despite the scars from the past... English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 AO3 link

“Hey… Cheer up! It’s your birthday tomorrow.” 

Mike says. You turn to give him a tired smile. It’s a rare thing to hear him be optimistic, but you love it.

“Yea… I’m just sour because she can’t be there.”

Your daughter is a free soul, ever since she was a kid, she had dreamt of a life away from Albuquerque. Now she’s 21 and studying abroad in the United Kingdoms. She was gonna travel back to New Mexico to celebrate your birthday, but with snowstorm chaos and exams coming up, she had to cancel. You’re not angry at her, rather sad, since you haven’t seen her in half a year. You still talk on the phone daily, despite the different time zones. At least you have your son, too. He’s 17, in high-school and lives at home with you, in a beautiful apartment on the calm streets of Albuquerque. You’re a bit paranoid, since you know the dangers of town. In your almost 50 years alive, you’ve seen and met many dangers. Keeping your kids safe has been the priority since. Being a single parent has made you even more protective of them. The divorce between you and your ex was bad and you haven’t heard from them since.

When Mike’s phone buzzes you feel relieved, happy to be distracted from your bitter thoughts. Since Mike is busy driving, you take his phone.

“It’s the boss”

“Can you reply?”

The two of you talk about it so casually, as if working as enforcers for a drug kingpin like Gus Fring is nothing weird. But to you and Mike it isn’t weird. 

Working for Gus is challenging and dangerous, so you’re happy to do it together with Mike. You know the risks of the work, but happily do it to provide for your kids. The things you do are for them. 

It’s been a year now, since the company you worked for shut down, and left you unemployed and in need of money. The only perks of having a criminal past is the work opportunity Gustavo Fring gave you.

That’s where you met Mike Ehrmantraut, an older ex-cop from Philadelphia, with a past just as fucked up as yours. 

At first you didn’t trust anyone in Gus' team, and to be honest? You weren’t really popular amongst your new colleagues. You were one of the oldest assets to the team, and your trust issues made it hard to get along with people. Luckily, Mike was the same. He was only a couple years older and just as “bitter” as you. The two of you went from sitting quietly next to each other, to exchanging a couple words to each other. One day, you took the courage and started a conversation with him, and some days later he kissed you. Since then, you and Mike have been inseparable. He is your partner in crime, literally, tho. You both struggle with guilt from the tasks you’re forced to do, but being together helps you both heal and forgive yourselves. 

“It’s just the things we do, for ourselves, and our families”

Mike usually says, giving you the reassurement you need. He’s been in this career for longer than you and knows his way around things. 

An odd pair, but still, you like to believe he’s your soulmate.

Mike can be very intimidating, and you too. So the two of you together tend to make people avoid your eyes. Your colleagues see you as the “grumpy old couple”, but to you, it’s the opposite. Mike makes you feel things you thought you could never feel again. He made you believe in love again. 

You answer the phone and recaps the completed mission for Gus, who seems satisfied with your work. As you hang up, you look at Mike.

“Fring told us we did a good job. Mission complete, as usual. Wanna celebrate?”

Mike chuckles.

“I thought you didn’t wanna celebrate?”

“I wasn’t talking about the birthday.”

“I think you’re having a mid-life crisis, y/n my dear”

You scoff at his words, even though it’s kinda true, but you can let him know that.

“I just don’t feel like celebrating.”

You don’t need to explain further, he knows what you mean. He doesn’t like celebrating birthdays either, since the loss of his son. 

He brings your hand to his lips, making you melt as he kisses your knuckles whilst driving through the cold night in Albuquerque. 

The sun almost blinds you when you blink your eyes open. The thin white curtains in your bedroom let in the morning sun. You let out an annoyed grunt. How many times haven’t you promised yourself to change curtains? You yawn as you turn around in bed, facing the left side, which is empty. 

“Mike?” 

You call out with a low, raspy voice. You start wondering if he had to leave early…

No, his phone is still on the nightstand. The door opens to the bedroom and he walks in, wearing a morning robe which originally is yours. You can’t help but smile.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. Happy birthday.”

Right… Your birthday.

“Let’s pretend I turn 40 and not 50, ok?”

He chuckles.

“Absolutely. I made you some coffee.”

As you get dressed, you get stuck by the mirror for a bit, noticing the love-drunk smile on your lips that doesn’t fade. It’s a change from your usual serious, almost intimidating expression. A good change.

Life hasn’t been easy and apart from the dangerous work for Fring which often makes you question yourself alot. Sometimes you wish that life was more normal, or that you could turn back time and do things differently. But not anymore. You’ve met your soulmates, after everything you’ve gone through. 

When you walk into the kitchen, Mike is already sitting in the kitchen, saying something that makes your son laugh. You smile at the sight, and look at your boyfriend, realizing that you love him, and you don’t wanna be without him. He always tells you how you made his life better, but he did the same to you. 

As you sit down with them, the thought of celebrating a birthday doesn’t seem to be so bad. You feel at peace. 

Crying shaking throwing up I love Mike THE WAY I SOBBED WHEN WRITING THIS 💀

[pod-together]

Pod-Together Day 8 Reveals 2023

A Single Drachma (Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types) written by TsarinaTorment, performed by stereden Summary: Alone. Injured. Hunted. Michael doesn’t know where he is, but he knows he’s running out of time, and he’s only got one shot at calling for help. He’s got to make it count.

Lost in the time (Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Obi-Wan Kenobi (TV)) written by HadrianPeverellBlack, performed by reena_jenkins Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi couldn't accept that Anakin, his brother, became Darth Vader. He tried to change that. Sometimes things can't change. Other times they could.

taking care (Welcome to Night Vale) written by Koschei_B, performed by xianvar Summary: Cecil comes home covered in blood and miserable.

Soul Swapped Soulmates (แค่เพื่อนครับเพื่อน | Bad Buddy: the Series (TV)) written by FlutterFyre, performed by sunkitten_shash Summary: “Pran, is that you?” “Now why would I be calling myself? Oh, wait, could it be because I’m stuck in your body? What the hell, Pat?” Pran’s sarcasm was coming through loud and clear. Pat’s irritation rose. He stalked over to the window and threw the curtains open. Sure enough, Pran – in Pat's body – was standing in Pat’s bedroom, glaring through the windows at him.

Are Flames Buried, Too? (One Piece (Anime & Manga)) written by CricketBones, performed by mistbornhero Summary: When a letter involving Banchina comes to Usopp, Luffy realizes something he had not thought about before; Does Ace have a grave? How do we handle grief, and past hurt, and how can the Strawhat Pirates help?

A Day In The Life: Archive Support Clerk Extraordinaire (Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types) written by bluegeekEM, performed by litra Summary: Archive support clerk Edwina Ro embarks on her first day in possession of a newly elevated clearance level, ready to do battle with the forces of archival chaos and instill organization wherever she goes. At the very least she hopes to tackle more interesting projects. Discovering that the "Accidental Marriage or Marriage-Equivalent" form is now on her "commonly referenced" list of forms? Not what she'd expected, actually.

there ain't no easy way out (i won't back down) (Leverage) written by JuneOokami, performed by farkenshnoffingottom Summary: After the Rundown Job, Eliot has some realizations about his relationship with Hardison and Parker

人過留名 | Reputation (魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù) created by dragongirlG and DrPanda99 Summary: Jingyi is the only one awake when Jin Ling texts the group chat at midnight. Hey so remember my dead uncle on my mom’s side? He's back What, Jingyi responds. WHAT EXPLAIN YOURSELF - Jin Ling's uncle returns from the dead during Chinese New Year. Meanwhile, Lan Jingyi decides to investigate the return of mysterious stackoverflow user yilinglaozu.

you and i, we are matter (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), The Owl House (Cartoon)) written by hopelessgemini, performed by lady_mab Summary: instincts kick in. catra freezes in place and tries to reconcile herself with the fact that she is very suddenly not where she was before. why does this keep happening to me?

or, catra accidentally lands herself on the boiling isles and in the care of one mara eternia. a toh she-ra au, written for pod_together 2023. there WILL be shenanigans.

The Lost Gods [text, audio] (Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types) written by hiddendruid, performed by roseszain and SerenaEW Summary: A cushy house-sitting job, a mysterious journal, a creepy guy at a pool, and... a rescue crew with arrows and wolves?

Suddenly, this summer job had gotten a whole lot more interesting

Of Trade Winds and the End of Our Peaceful Days (Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types) written by Elle_dubs, performed by Hangebokhan Summary: Jaskier helps in his inimitable way to raise a dragon, and the found family he has surrounded himself with is forced to contend with plans for the future.

Stones of the Sea: Relics of Sea & Sand (shell) (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, A Stitch in Time - Andrew Robinson - Fandom) created by BardicRaven and RisalSoran Summary: Even ruined, reduced to a shell of its former self, Tain’s house held its share of dangers. Elim Garak knew that, walked cautiously through its shattered walls and fallen rooms. But even he could still be caught.

[namig42]

Part 6/7 of this ask from @inaconstantstateofchange

This time, we're talking about

Helena

My sweet, anxiety-ridden rogue with socialization issues has dealt with a lot of trauma. She steals and causes chaos to keep herself isolated from others in her own way, whether or not she realizes it, because she fears being abandoned or rejected. She never knew her parents, she grew up with no one who cared for her, and so she made a point of distancing herself from everyone on her own terms in order to keep herself emotionally safe. It wasn't until she found a kindred spirit of sorts in Astarion that she began to open up and let her guards down a bit, revealing a whole lot of trauma she would now need to learn to process and work through.

But what if just one person had shown her some sort of care when she was a kid? What if one adult had stepped in to raise the little problematic tiefling?

Let's say when Helena was still fairly young, about 8 or 9, she stole a bracelet she thought was pretty off of a lady walking around the Lower City. A member of the Flaming Fist caught Helena in this scenario, and instead of berating and punishing her harshly, he simply asked Helena for the bracelet back. When she finally gave it to him, the guard dragged Helena back to the lady the bracelet belonged to and forced her to apologize.

Maybe the same Flaming Fist guard catches Helena a couple more times, holding her accountable in a way that actually teaches Helena what's wrong with her actions rather than hurting her like the other guards tended to do.

Let's call this particular guard Vernon. He's an older gentleman who's never married and has one son that's all grown up and moved away to Waterdeep in order to study magic. Vernon raised his son on his own the best he could, but things weren't always perfect. He never let his son read magic text in the house and discouraged the arcane heavily, but it only drew them further apart. His son left to pursue a "brighter, better future" as he phrased it, and now the two haven't spoken in nearly a decade. Vernon is a fairly stoic, traditional older man with a bushy moustache and bushy brows. He comes across as unassuming because most assume him to be past his prime, but he's still pretty quick and strong. He simply started graying earlier than most. He's only in his early fifties, but he looks much older.

Anyways, Vernon notices Helena more often while he's out on patrol these days, watching her as she runs around and plays little jokes on people. They're all mostly harmless jokes, and he does get a chuckle or two while watching the little tiefling girl run around, thinking that no one sees her being sneaky. He really only steps in when he sees Helena crossing a line.

He catches her one day stealing some produce from a stand near the Lower City entrance gate, and after catching Helena in the act, Vernon goes back and pays the grocer for the goods that Helena stole. He looks at what Helena grabbed and asks her with a snarky tone, "and just what the hell were you going to do with a raw fish and a carrot?" Helena shrugs, then he offers to show her something she could technically cook with what she grabbed. He brings her back to his home to make a fish and vegetable stew, using the things Helena stole on top of his own food, and feeds her a proper meal. The way she scarfs the stew down tells Vernon that this kid hasn't eaten anything good in her life. After she finishes her bowl, Vernon starts to ask about Helena's parents, but she immediately tells him she has none. He asks where she lives, and she tells him the orphanage. He asks why she runs around pickpocketing, and she shrugs and tells him that it's fun. All of her answers are short and only a couple words, but Vernon can see a sweet soul under all the fear. He can see that Helena is a good kid in a bad situation, and it makes him want to do something to help her.

Over the next year or so, Vernon keeps an eye on Helena as she plays around the city during the day. He keeps her out of trouble, and even starts packing little meals for Helena that he gives her when he spots her. Eventually, she starts to open up to the old man, smiling at him occasionally and playing jokes on him sometimes now too. The way she opens up tells Vernon that he's doing something right, and one day, when he's handing Helena a small packed lunch, he kneels down and asks how she'd like to eat like this everyday. He's awkward in how he poses the question, but the gist of it is that he offers to adopt Helena and take care of her, give her a room, and feed her good food. He doesn't tell her this next part, but he hopes to also teach her some different skills or help her find a new direction to keep her out of trouble.

Helena tells him that she think he's a nice old man and that she'd like to have her own room, so she agrees, and within a couple days, she's living with Vernon. Over the next few years, Vernon teaches Helena how to cook for herself, how to fish, how to fight, and how to read. Anything he could think of that may be of any kind of interest to Helena, he'd try to show her. Vernon is afraid of pushing Helena away the same way he pushed his own son away, so he's a bit more lenient about small things that Helena likes. As long as she stays out of trouble, then he does his best not to pry or deny her things. The two would grow close over time, and Helena would learn how to communicate better and keep out of trouble, though most of her pranks would now be directed solely at Vernon. It's a small price to pay though for him to see Helena so happy.

By the time she becomes a proper adult, instead of becoming a rogue that gets mixed up with the Guild, Helena would be an aimless young adult that works any job she can find around the city in order to help support Vernon as he gets older and can't work the way he used to. She keeps getting fired from each of her odd jobs for one reason or another, always causing some kind of commotion before her boss tells her to beat it. She would try working as a store clerk, a newspaper runner, a construction worker, a janitor, and whatever position she could land. She wasn't qualified for much, so the jobs weren't ritzy, but she never complained about the work. Her issue was that she would do something dumb, sometimes on purpose, but more often on accident, and get fired fairly quick. Things never felt quite right, but she didn't care about the work. She just wanted to support Vernon and help him the way he helped her when she was a kid.

She'd eventually find herself as a bartender at a little restaurant on the water of the Lower City, and realize that she likes working in a bar. She sometimes gets regulars that come on through and learns about them, being able to connect with them and keep them coming back because they enjoy Helena's company. In time, she finds herself even making friends with some of the regulars, and her life begins to turn into a regular episode of Cheers.

As she goes through her twenties, instead of causing chaos and then hiding herself in a room full of stolen trinkets, Helena makes a proper home with her father figure, finds a place to go and work a job she enjoys at the tavern, and manages to find herself being able to connect with others, even if it's not on the deepest level just yet. It's a much different life, and though it's not glamorous, it's one worth living.

---

If this version of Helena got taken by the nautiloid, I don't think that she'd be much different than her original timeline. She'd still enjoy sowing a bit of chaos with Astarion, though likely not nearly as much as before, and would still bond with him the most. This time though, since she's learned how to talk to people and connect with others thanks to Vernon, she'd likely grow closer with more companions than just Astarion, leading to a stronger bond between the party as a whole. She'd also be a bit more accountable, so Yellena (my friend's Tav) would hopefully not despise her so much (lol).

[skirtsandsweaters]

me reinventing the wheel in 4k. this was doesn't accurately describe me anymore as it was written years ago. there's some insufferable melodrama but i did genuinely feel that way at many points in my life so it gets to stay. there's a gem or two past the melodrama. if u don't find any, then i never said anything.

---

cold sorrow :( shivering sadness :( so alone and so over it that you're sad then numb then sad :( misery so freezing that you lose your limbs and cry about it but there's no end to the tears :( endless unhappiness :( just upset forever eternally

KNOWLEDGE IS A SERVICE: why do we have to pay for knowledge? why isn't it free? knowledge is free, accessing all there is to know is virtually possible should you try. we pay for the (((labour))) that goes into compiling, collecting, translating, and modifying the knowledge of the world into consumable pieces like research papers and classroom curriculums.

BRIGHT TILES NEED A LOT OF BLEACH: horror but the scary people are those who aren't disfigured because their untouched state speaks to the amounts of violence and scheming they've done to stay that way. the baddies are those unaffected, the protags, or the status quo is being hurt

MUSIC AND REPETITION: i call my favourite songs "good" regardless of their objective quality because they make me feel good. they make me feel good because i am familiar with them and my brain releases endorphins for pattern recognition. since i know them front to back they are sure to make me feel good or comfortable. this causes me to stick to a few songs and be hesitant or wary of trying new music because i don't want that penalization from my brain for not recognizing the patterns of new music when all i'm looking for is easy dopamine and "comfort"

UNINTENTIONALLY DETRIMENTAL ADVICE IN Horror MOVIES: it's common for horror text to have unaware people suggest that those haunted by demons should face them, not knowing that they'll end up hurting themselves more

NO TWO WORDS MEAN THE SAME THING: rhymes but doesn't repeat, similar package, different meaning, do the same ((way)) i do but not the same ((thing)) i do

STORM: cold front meets warm front creates storms - mom's worldview meets other people's worldview causes chaos (in general), feelings of cornered prey, lashing out (both in her), instability (in general)

FALLING FOR ETERNITY: is there a place where it's always stormy? (every year has its december --> what if it's always december)

DISCONNECTION FROM OBSESSION: a lost soul is someone who is obsessed with something that disconnects them from life

THE MIND: the element of a person that enables them to be aware of the world and their experiences, to think, and to feel; the faculty of consciousness and thought.

JOYFUL SUFFERING: the grace of that cross changes the Cyrenean's heart and from the compulsory task, it becomes a privilege and joy.

CALL OF THE VOID: L'appel du vide

GHOST/GOES: solid ghost, so it goes (---> so it goes as in so light and barely tangible, oh "there it goes" as expected, leaving quickly and easily. --> solid ghost as in you're human and corporeal and take up space and are visible but it feels as if you aren't any of those things, like a wallflower, a living ghost :) )

- Voice so low / Sneaking around, so it goes / I always try my best to listen

- Pacing around, watching my feet / Batteries drain, I get the memo / "I think that I might have to let you go" (reminds me of Noah)

BACKWARDS ECHO: repeats what will be said instead what has been said.

VICTIM BLAMING: We take to victim-blaming because we are problem-solving people who want to feel secure. We view a crime as something that happened, like a natural disaster, because we can't control or understand the actions of the assailant, instead of something that was done to someone by someone. We don't see any efficient or immediate way to have stopped the crime on the wrongdoer's end so we blame the victim, ask them what they did wrong, how they could have gotten out of it, because we want to assure ourselves that it will not happen to us. We view crimes like sexual assault and shootings as comparative to running down the stairs without looking where you're going.

HUMAN VALUE: " Our true value lies in the core experience of being a conscious being who feels and perceives.” In other words, rather than making our self-worth contingent on categories such as academic success, appearance, or popularity, we must value ourselves solely for the fact that we are human beings and accept that failure is part of the human experience. "

SWEARING: using swear words in descriptions to avoid intimacy or vulnerability - as a distraction

COLOUR: older and younger generations tend to see (identify, name, call) colours differently - pink and red, green and yellow, brown and orange - education, personal relationship with colour, circumstances could be factors

[sleepyowlwrites]

Oops hit the wrong button when trying to send an ask. Time for me to go to sleep apparently.

How about you? What are some favorite very specific tropes that you have?

Hi rainstormdaughterdearest

Twins. Bonus points if they have magic (3/4 sets do)

Guy takes himself way too seriously and is oblivious as to how unhappy it makes him

Ambiguous older person who knows so much stuff that they won't tell the protagonists

"I don't need friends" vs "this one. I'm gonna be friends with this one"

The soul of the group that everybody else would protect with their lives

Plucky young lad who didn't ask to be the main character but here we are

Chill and competent lass who observes the chaos around her and sometimes also partakes

Cuddle piles

Fights that absolutely would be flirtatious except that the majority of my characters are non-romantic (at least I never mention if they are)

Everybody's some kind of asexual unless specifically stated in the text

Long-lost (ish) siblings and you better believe it's complicated

Opposites becoming good friends, often through coercion from their respective friends

Protagonist is not the main character

Random lingual stuff: slang, greetings in older dialects, the latin of the wip, phraseology

Sidekicks in various forms: twice possessed skeleton, talking animals, the resident clairvoyant, your brother who knows stuff, sunshine or raincloud, etc.

Can I interest you in some heavy emotions for a couple thousand words?

Sneaky magic

It's hot outside a lot for some reason

Thiefs. But the good kind?

Hurt/comfort sandwiched in between shenanigans

⬆️ that's just my main thing. All my wips can be summed up thusly

Bonus list of tropes I like

Bonus list of romance tropes I like

Thanks for asking 😊

[hungry-axolotl]

Prompt "Who did this to you?"

Theme : Betrayal, Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Death mentioned, Blood, Fantasy, One-shot(?)

The colored texts are considered emotions. Hopefully this doesn't make it hard to read.

She grunts in exertion, leaning her back against the pile of rubble conveniently behind her. Pain resonated throughout her body as rain pelted on the cuts and bruises on her body mercilessly. “f**k... This damned rain…”

She sighs heavily as she finally settles uncomfortably against the rubble. she looks up slowly, closing her eyes, letting rain fall on her face. The rain stole away her warmth, and yet she felt comforted by the rhythmical way the droplets seemed to fall on her skin, as if it was her father that used to comfort her whenever she tripped and fell. She stayed that way for a minute, savouring the fleeting moment of respite. Her thoughts drift, the memories of happy days with her family, then the unforeseen betrayal.

The surge of emotions caused tears to well in her eyes, slowly mingling with the ice cold raindrops, she opened her eyes, unflinching as rain fell onto them. The sound of several light footsteps splashing puddles of water, disturbing the peace she tried to hold on to. ‘A familiar sight, when was it?’ She gazed at the familiar uniform of the knights as she thought to herself, ‘Ah. The day of my father’s burial.’

“That’s an awful lot of people trying to end a weak, pathetic, injured little princess, don’t you think?” She chuckles, her brown irises turning red, she stands slowly, her breath shaking. Her eyes trace through the crowd surrounding her, counting a number of 57 Imperial Knights.

“Cut the crap, Demoness Lilith.” The attackers’ cold gazes bore into her, her nickname seemingly invoking bravery into her.

She pursed her lips, as if those words hurt, closing her eyes, she discarded the past. A cruel smirk donned her face as if fear wasn’t in any part of her soul. Her eyes fly open, a murderous glint in them. She swiftly draws her sword, at a speed that one would never think that she was injured. The initial red sparks ignite small flames around her and, along with the bloodlust emitting from her startles the enemies.

The voice of the commander cracks, “P- Prepare for combat-”

One. Small sparks of blue flame crackled, shrouding her before exploding in the air, heat spread across the area, boiling the rain into steam, acting as a smokescreen. She dashes, staring eye to eye with the commander before…

“KUgHh!!” The light blue blade effortlessly slices through the commander’s helmet then his head diagonally from the right of his neck to his left eye. Blood sprayed into the air from his opened head, visible to those behind him they flinched fear overtaking their previous bravado.

Two.... Three. Lilith doesn’t let the opportunity pass, slicing through them without hesitation.

They could only hope to regroup before they were wiped out, her shadow hazing in and out with flashes of blue flames as she cut down each of them one by one. Amongst the chaos and disorder, screams of pain and terror reverberated into the air, blood combusting turning the air rancid and the steam red. A scene right out of an apocalypse.

“FIND HER!” a commanding voice echoed through the field as she darts within the scarlett rancid steam, swiftly dispatching them.

Four… Five… Six- She growls, as a barrage of icicles stopping her rampage, she had to dodge this. She dashes to her right, before just barely leaping away with her life intact. A strong breeze swept through the battlefield, dispersing the blood mist, cruelly removing her only advantage in the battle.

She looked behind her, the Imperial Knights lagging behind. She swiftly tries to stand before crippling back into the ground, she grits her teeth in pain, looking down calmly while pulling out the icicles stuck in her left calf. The attackers caught up, their numbers dwindled, roughly twenty? or thirty? She couldn’t really care less anymore, ignoring the pain, she persistently pushes through the battlefield.

Seven… Eight… Nine… Her injuries slowly increased, her movements slowing, heads flew, blood painted her face. Her focus slowly died out, her eyes hazy with exhaustion, yet her body instinctively moved to cull any moving objects with practised ease. ‘Why isn’t it ending… for how long… do I need to do this?’

Ten. She freezes. The pain and warmth in her belly brought her gaze down, a dark red sword that seemed awfully familiar. Traitor. Blood spewed out of her throat, her heart that was already broken, crumbled.

“Brother…” She chuckled dryly. “Fancy… meeting you here…” She winces as more swords come piercing into her limp body. “Have you and mother been well?” a gentle smile rests on her forlorn face as she falls, dropping to her knees. She gazes blankly at her surroundings, there were more dead bodies then the 57 she had counted earlier.

“We've been well ever since you disappeared. Don’t worry, Sister. No. Lilith.. I’ll be the king and the hero in your stead, mother will be pleased.”

She chuckles at the heartless comment of her brother, sighing in resignation as they leave her, letting her die a bitter death in the rain.

She closes her eyes, resting as she hears the fading footsteps, trying to think of happy things to entertain herself before Death himself comes to hug her. A face surfaces in her thoughts, she smiled. She used to hate the annoying voice that always accompanied the owner of that face.

“...Cecilia.” A voice called out, it sounded pained and desperate. A pale face. One unlike him. She missed hearing this voice, the voice of the evil villian, her sworn enemy.

She stares blankly at him. “Hey… you came?” She coughed in pain, blood accompanying it. His eyes widened… rushing to her with his hands trembling dearly as he tried to figure out just how to help her.

“Who..did this…” he growled, his voice rough and feral. His eyes stared at the swords stabbed into her body. “WHO!!”

She watched quietly, reaching out to lightly brush away the tears on his cheeks. “...thought you’ve always wanted me dead, Lucifer.” She smiles, gentle and delicate.

“Not… not this way…” Lucifer growled, tears rolling down his cheek while he slowly put his hand on her wounds, trying to stop the bleeding and remove the swords that were lodged in her with his dark magic. He freezes when a red glimmer catches his eyes. His gaze shifts to a familiar dark red sword in her belly, his face darkens as growing silent for a moment. “Is it your brother?”

She chuckles softly, a pained expression donning her face. “You've got it right, as always.” she winces as Lucifer slowly heals her whilst peeling the swords away from her belly.

“... Cecilia… please… survive… you still have your mission as a heroine to-” he pauses. A kiss… it's cold.

“You know well just how close I am to death, Lucifer.” She rests her head on his shoulder. “you can see it… right? My heart it's… slowing down.”

His voice cracks in sorrow. “Why… why must it be you… Aren’t you the prophesied heroine? How has it become this way!?”

“...I don’t know. I don’t even know if I really was the prophesied child.” She stares at him weakly, her breathing becoming weak and unstable. “Be it as a wretched demoness or a glorious heroine, I’m glad I’ve managed to at least save you… Lucifer… ”

He carries her after peeling that repulsive red sword from her back. He sobs silently, hugging her dearly as if holding a glass rose. “I love you… I love you… I love you…”

She smiled sadly, “... I love you too, Lucifer.” Her eyes dimmed slowly. “...I’m sorry, I couldn't give you the end you've always wanted…” her eyes closed slowly, arm falling limp to her side.

“...I love you… So please…” he hugs her cold body, hatred and sadness boiling in him. “Don't leave me all alone…”

:> This is a one-shot. Though I could definitely explore expanding the story, requests and suggestions are absolutely welcomed. It is my first time writing one. Hopefully, it's satisfactory.

[kagedbird]

See, the whole thing is perfectly in ties with literally everything being everyone when you consider the Aldmeri / Altmer texts on a lot of lore things. (I was saving this for my fanfiction but FUCK IT I love sharing lore ideas.)

Back before Creation began, there was Anu and Padomay. Anu, the Stasis of Everything, and Padomay, the Change in Everything. They were born of the Void- a term used occasionally to refer directly to Oblivion. Between them they created Creation, Nir, who they both fell in love with; but she chose Anu over Padomay.

Padomay, enraged at being scorned, attacked Nir while she was pregnant, fatally wounding her. She gave birth to 12 worlds- the ones that contain the names of the Gods- before dying. Padomay then destroyed these worlds, shattering them into pieces.

Anu fought him off and woefully put pieces of his children together. But why? He is Stasis- all that is will remain in equilibrium, to cease for a period of time. Change should be the thing that brings them back, as it is time in motion, shouldn't it? But it's because of his love for Nir, his original want to create a new plane, that he takes their children in hand and forms Mundus. Pieces of the various 12 worlds from before, now joined into One.

When Padomay returned to destroy Creation once again, Anu pulled them both outside of Time itself, ending their conflict's threat to Creation, though Creation remained abundant with many Anuic and Padomaic spirits. Anu's blood, spilt during the battle with his brother, became the stars- the Magna Ge- and the mingled blood of the brothers became the Aedra.

Altmer tradition dictates that Anu personified his own soul- to represent a quality or concept by a figure in human form- into Anuiel, "so that he might know himself", and Anuiel's son was in turn personified into Auri-El.

"Gods with an Anuic basis, those "bound to Anu's light", include almost all the Aedra and most deities associated with the creation of Mundas and Nirn."

Even the Skaal, who only believe in a single Deity, the All-Maker, give recognition to someone called the Adversary; a malevolent and multifaceted tester who works to corrupt the All-Maker's dominion. They are similar to the two- Anu and Padomay- constantly fighting one another even outside of Time.

AND THEN BACK TO DAGON BY THE WAY, he was literally cursed by Alduin to BECOME as he is now; horrible, destructive, causing and sowing chaos (Aurbis??) onto the planes he was supposedly to inherit. He was created by the Magna Ge with one of Oblivion's most precious assets:

Hope.

Now tell me- why would a god of destruction be born of Hope if he was meant to domineer and take over the land? To steal it away from all of Creation's spirits?

I think he was meant to be the rebirth of his mother, Nir. But the ties of Padomay were stronger inside Alduin, and thus he cursed Dagon to be as he was- to feel the anger and hurt that Padomay still feels.

They're ALL LINKED. Every bit of them- Sheogorath, Lorkhan, Akatosh, Auri-El; ALL OF THE GODS ARE LINKED. THEY ARE THEM, BUT THEY ARE NOT.

Because what are you if not pieces of the people who made you, and those who have touched your very being over Time, even as you live as yourself?

Sheogorath IS Lorkhan!!!

My take on the creation of Mundus goes like this. Lorkhan god of space wishes to create the physical realm Mundus.

Why? Because his fellow Et'Ada may all be powerful gods but with nothing to do they would remain big balls of untapped potential for eternity. In other words, what use is space to grow with no limitations from which to break through? Or bounce off of? You can't build muscle without resistance. You'll never fulfill your potential if there's no motivation to do so. Take Arkay, a god like any other but with no mortals to live and die, no souls to psychopomp, what is he for?

So Lorkhan decides to create Mundus by playing a trick on some of his fellow Et'Ada, while recruiting others to help him play the trick. Those he tricked would one day become the Aedra, Magna Ge and the Earth Bones. Those he recruited, as well as those who refused to take part one way or the other, would become the Deadra.

But part of Lorkhan's plan was its failure. He intended to get caught last minute, and at the moment of Convention Magnus and his followers fled Mundus creating the sun and stars, while the Trinimac and the Aedra ripped Lorkhan apart, his broken body created the moons, his heart was launched into the sea where it would create Red Mountain and eventually the Numidium, and his soul was shattered throughout time and space to wander Nirn as the Shezzarine. This is when the Deadra who didn't follow Lorkhan saw their opportunity, and attacked. Jyggalag, the mind of Lorkhan that sought to bring order to this crazy universe, was driven mad and cursed to live as Sheogorath.

In short, Mankar Camoran was right. So where's my proof?

Let's start with linguistics. The Bretons are man-mer, one foot in both sides of the Ehlnofey schism. They have the merish view of Lorkhan as this devilish trickster god, but they call him Sheor, like his manish name Shor.

Shor - Sheor - Sheogorath

Lorkhan is also known as Shezarr, the missing god of the Cyrodiilic pantheon. That Lorkhan shaped hole keeps getting filled with gods of war/ spirits of the endeavours of man. One such god was Ebonarm, sworn enemy of all Deadra, with the notable exception of Sheogorath. Why is that? Perhaps Ebonarm sought vengeance for Lorkhan's betrayal, which Sheogorath is not only innocent but one of the victims?

How about that guy you meet in The Shivering Isles, Dyus of Mytheria? He is the one thing of Jyggalag's world that Sheogorath refuses to destroy after returning from the Greymarch; his librarian. The keeper of the knowledge of CREATION ITSELF! Not only is Sheogorath unable to bring himself to destroy Dyus, he keeps him immortal and imprisoned in the library.

"As the Great Library, it once contained all the knowledge in creation. However, spare me your grief. My imprisonment is as meaningless as my immortality. Time and place are nothing. Constructs of a feeble mortal mind attempting to categorize and understand the world around it. If you were one of the fortunate few, you would one day understand and accept this. However, you are not and you will not."

"Contained within its walls were the logical prediction of every action ever taken by any creature, mortal or Daedric. Every birth. Every death. The rise of Tiber Septim. The Numidium. Everything. All predicted with the formulae found within Jyggalag's library."

It's interesting he uses both Tiber Septim (Talos) and Numidium as examples as both are examples of those Lorkhan shaped gods filling the Shezarr hole, and both use the heart of Lorkhan/Mantella to achieve divine power. So Jyggalag/Sheogorath hold the knowledge of creation, which they would know because they are manifestations of the mind of the creator Lorkhan.

Mankar Camoran believed that Mundus was a realm of Oblivion as Lorkhan was a Deadric Prince (Jyggalag??), so Dagon has every right to inherit it. This can easily be written off as an excuse to dominate the mortal plain, but if my theory is right then this belief is a legitimate way of interpreting it. If Mehrunes Dagon was one of Lorkhan's loyal recruits he might want to conquer what he sees as his inheritance.

"How little you understand! You cannot stop Lord Dagon. The Principalities have sparkled as gems in the black reaches of Oblivion since the First Morning. Many are their names and the names of their masters: the Coldharbour of Meridia, Peryite's Quagmire, the ten Moonshadows of Mephala, and... and Dawn's Beauty, the Princedom of Lorkhan... misnamed 'Tamriel' by deluded mortals."

"Yes, you understand now. Tamriel is just one more Daedric realm of Oblivion, long since lost to its Prince when he was betrayed by those that served him. Lord Dagon cannot invade Tamriel, his birthright! He comes to liberate the Occupied Lands!"

Consider Boethiah. If Lorkhan was plotting against the other Et'Ada who would make a better ally than the Prince of plots? Consider what she did to Trinimac, the Aedra that "killed" Lorkhan. She not only humiliated him in battle, she ate and excreted him as Malacath. In doing so she transformed his followers into the Orcs. She exposed the grandest Aedroth knight to be just the same as the Deadra, using Mundus as a playground and mortals as toys, and she turned his merish followers into ugly brutes, exactly what the mer accuse men of being. And she did so in the service of the Chimer, leading more elves away from their "ancestors". I mean, she could have just killed him... But she chose to destroy what he was. Strip away his pretensions. It just feels personal. Vengeful.

Consider also that Boethiah is almost certainly the Night Mother of the Dark Brotherhood. Think about it. Why would Sithis care about contract murder in Tamriel? He is the void. Boethiah on the other hand is all about sneaking around plotting to murder people, and tricking a bunch of goths into worshipping the wrong god. Using the corpse of some poor Bravil girl she has made a cult to Lorkhan, who is a being of Sithis. Ever wonder why the statue of Sithis in Oblivion is of a man with his heart ripped out? Remind you of anyone?

But it's just a theory. It gets crazier when you accept that Lorkhan and Akatosh are the same person. But that's a rambling theory for another blog.

[goldenreign]

@frcznreign,   magnus said: 

[ 📲 • sms ] —— i can’t stop thinking about you.

[ sms: magnus ]   hey !! [ sms: magnus ]   oh my goshhh,   i was just thinking about u 2! [ sms: magnus ]   i miss you so much :(( [ sms: magnus ]   dont tell felx im texting u, im pretty sure its against the rules [ sms: magnus ]   u know what sucks??   like my heart just hurts.   all the time.   it never stops [ sms: magnus ]   and i want tosee you and i miss u but you dont ever seem to care [ sms: magnus ]   do you want to come over tinoight? 

[arend000-blog]

Hello welcome to my blog. If you came here because you were confused as to what the heck is going on in one of my posts I hope this post will help.

Here’s some basic information if you want more it’s under the read more

In normal text it's Nick, “me”, you can assume it's me if there's no other indication in the tags if i think it's necessary i’ll add Nk: in the tag to clarify it's him speaking.

In red and/or cursed we got Azerium, the demon, in the tags i’ll lead with Az: if he’s saying it.

Green is the overworked and tired Berrian, half-elf feywanderer ranger, Br: in the tags

And finally in golden text it's Amashiel, the angel, going by Am: in the tags.

Quick reference: me, Ames, Az, Berrian, me and Az, me using my powers, god of true ends🎶

Boreon, Sol, Cinys

Who are using this different font cause i ran out of colours a bit

Boreon is a ghost with ice powers

Sol is some kind of sun spirit

And Cinys is a lying manipulative ash demon

All of us (except Cinys) are no longer sharing my body, still sharing the account though it is an rp thing it's just me playing them they're not actually living in my head

Hope this helps!

Alright time to introduce them properly

Let’s start with “me” Nick(this is me for all intents and purposes, no this is not my real name but you may address me as such), he/him pronouns (at least at the moment i don’t really know my own gender or sexuality so the best you can get out of me regarding my oc’s is pronouns), okay so he’s kinda stuck in a roguelite-like kind of loop spanning the entire life of the multiverse, link here if i ever write that down, he's an inter dimensional gaurdian but he can’t really use his powers at the moment (don’t tell the-crimson-river-society or florida, i’m trying to keep up appearances), the only one with common sense and enough self restraint to not stab people, has the most control over who gets the body, still ends up sleep deprived despite only needing two hours of sleep, likes milk chocolate, doesn’t like swearing and is currently playing host to an angel and a demon but probably more somewhere down the line.

Okay onto Azerium, the living blade, as they like to call themself, a demon straight from hell and actually got banished from there for promoting the idea to kill all the damned souls now, since they would end up down there anyways, it didn't help that he’s a halfbreed, a result of a succubus and a fallen angel, which makes him the lowest ranked demon in hell even below puny imps, pronouns are he/they, might look like they’ll go apeshit but will actually sit down and let you cry your emotions out before setting the responsible party's house on fire hopefully with them in it, only wants to kill the damned souls, supports the lgbtq+ with pure chaos energy especially the arsonists, somehow pretty good and responsible with kids, also the one who usually gets us out of trouble, he’s the only one with actual combat training and is also training us, absolutely loves duels and fights especially if there’s swords involved, despite having wings he can’t actually fly, has a tiefling like prehensile tail, likes dark chocolate, swears the most easily out of us and often takes over to have Nick not swear.

Now for the angel Amashiel, protector of the innocent, got kicked out of heaven by the archangels because she wanted to guide humanity instead of simply sitting back and letting them figure out their own problems, may look like a cinnamon bun but will absolutely go on a crusade should someone hurt one of their friends or loved ones, also has only one brain cell which is mostly occupied with figuring out how absolutely everything works, might make it as an technician if she remembers to unplug whatever they are dismantling, initially disliked Azerium but now they quarrel like siblings, somehow the more vengeful of the two, also the more annoying one, we call her Ames, might look like the team mom but is somehow the most irresponsible one out of us, they almost got us electrocuted twice already, also not good with kids, inexplicably has sparkles appear whenever they are in control, she's also british somehow, hard to piss off even harder to calm down, likes white chocolate and pronouns are she/they.

Fun tidbit, apparently chocolate is a very good substitute for prayers and whatever the heck demons get their powers from, screams, terror, human souls? nah it’s just terror if we used human souls for power we’d run out of ones to torture Oh alright!

Quick rundown of abilities and powers:

Nick: having a body, knowing how the human world works, phoenix fire healing power, being the best host an angel could pray for, thanks ames, having potential as an eldritch knight, creating and stabilising portals, being able to go into a trance like state and keeping all the other ones on track.

Azerium: being able to transform his arms into tentacle blades, fighting skills, having a prehensile tail, being able to set his hands on fire and simple curse magic. i also have my own blog now @azerium don't tell the other

Amashiel: creating force fields, simple healing and blessing magic, flight and emitting enough light to rival a lighthouse.

Together we got resistance to non supernatural damage and a downright immunity to fire, also only needing two hours of sleep a day.

And here's the posts with some charcter artwork

Ames is now working for osha

[ftf-appreciationweek]

Questions and answers were taken from Ursa’s telegram chat

Chaos wielders can freely move the paths of chaos to any distance, or can they go crazy from it too?

Ursa: Read more about Chaos in the new update of our exciting journey to a nervous breakdown :DD oh. I mean, in the new chapters of Tiamat.

Did Nikkal tell Su about the night she spent with Kingu? Will there be a scene where you can discuss your love interest with her?

Ursa: Communicating with minions about scenes with other minions is difficult within a novel. I try not to push them together until a certain point, because it gives rise to sooooo many difficulties - both technical and plot. It’s just a shame to spend an insane amount of lines on LI's reflection. This, of course, is very beautiful, but not always justified within the framework of the novel.

When fighting with Kingu in the stable, Nikkal slashed him with a sword - she wanted to hurt him, was she aware that she could seriously injure him?

Ursa: She was scared, she believed that her life was in danger and she defended herself as best she could. And Kingu has never looked frail.

Is Nikkal's mother an earth mage?

Ursa: Yes.

How soon will we learn about the comet and its impact on the plot and characters?

Ursa: :DDD I'm afraid only in the book.

And will it be possible to bring other characters together if we are not following their branch (for example, Niall and Ereshkigal?) Or Niall and Su?

Ursa: Yes to me, no to you.

Can you describe the next update in one word?

Ursa: My nervous breakdown. Or "watch a screenwriter work 14 hours a day"

Will we see more initiative from Kingu in the future on the branch with him?

Ursa: I think so. He doesn't show any initiative because he doesn't think he has the right to push Nikkal into a relationship, but if that's her choice...

Question about Kingu's makeup: does he really like this way of expressing himself? And if so, why?

Ursa: I'm going to tell you a terrible thing... Without makeup, the art was not so interesting :D

Will there be hints of a relationship among the LIs, without a branch?

Ursa: I don't think they will have a relationship.

Is this Nanna really harmless?

Ursa: Depending on what is considered harmless... Nanna is a bit patriarchal. Although he is cute and funny, I don't like him one bit :")

Who promises Ereshkigal souls? The people themselves/mages or someone who can do it for them?

Ursa: Mmm... spoiler.

Ereshkigal was very upset that he would go in and out without giving anything in return. Could she arrange this on a regular basis? Niall, entering Irkalla, would this harm his soul?

Ursa: She doesn't control Irkalla the way you think. If she had control, she would be able to calmly enter and exit. But she feels her moods and desires well: and yes, for me, Irkalla is also a character, with her own desires.

Was Niall born in Ur or was he a foreigner?

Ursa: Ur is not the only city, but he was born in the lands of the Five, yes.

What subject does Niall teach? And does he teach in addition to the main subject?

Ursa: Not an "object". He teaches self-control well, can show any combat technique, air magic techniques and movements, techniques of other types of magic. Private lessons - well, yes, Nike gives lessons! Lessons are given...

When Niall first called Nikkal a spark, then there was a text that she associated this appeal with a blanket and honey... Is this a direct association, that is, a kind of memory? Or did your brain just randomly associate this nickname with coziness because it's cute?

Ursa: There is a little scene about it. About Nikkal's training, about her failure, and how he called her Twilight and comforted her after her failure. I won't tell you in full - suddenly I'll describe it beautifully somewhere.

Why does Ethan call Nikki a sprout? Is it related to his element?

Ursa: He considers her the youngest even though they are twins. There is something patronizing in the "sprout".

Is the question about Kingu calling Nikkal “lady” a spoiler?

Ursa: Wait for the new chapters.

Will we see Nikkal stroking Niall's hair?

Ursa: Oh well... we can do it, why not.

Was Enlil joking when he asked Nikkal to stay with them? Or was he and Shamash really not against her company?

Ursa: If she agreed, it would not be a joke. And no, it's not about/not necessarily about 18+.

[duskwood-legacies]

"Days Like These"

Fandom: Duskwood

->Episode 7 Spoiler!⚠️

Pairing/Character: Jake (x MC)

Word Count: 787

Genre: Angst

-----

Nothing would be enough to fix the damage that's been done.

No words would be enough to soothe the pain she had to endure.

On days like these, where the thunder silenced the birds and rain crashed against the window like bullets, on days like these the world seemed to turn it's back on you.

I'm so sorry you had to endure this. I can only imagine the panic flaring in your chest right now, the disturbing tingling of adrenaline pumping through your body as the mind goes dull and numb.

"How far is too far when it comes to a person's life?"

"As soon as another life is in danger because of it"

I shouldn't have taken it as lightly as I did. I watched as your messages filled the group chat, each text a greater sting in my heart. I may find a great weakness in sensing emotions behind messages, but I can see you're hurting. A lot.

On days like these, where the sky is hidden above a sturdy blanket of darkened clouds, on days like these the world unleashed it's greatest suffering upon innocent souls.

I couldn't look anymore. The unbearing ache that took over my heart as you frantically cried for help with each message was too much to handle.

"You are talking as if they are only means to an end"

I'm so sorry you had to see Richy fighting for his life, I'm so sorry you had to look into his eyes as he grew weaker, second by second until his phone collapsed and denied you to look at him any longer. You couldn't do anything. You were helpless.

"Please, MC. Trust me."

Only now did I understand the value those people hold to you. Only now did I understand the deep bond all of you shared.

I got up from the old wooden chair and walked over to the window. My heart rattled against my rib cage with undimmed violence.

On days like these, where the wind spiraled into a merciless storm that forced trees to bend and flowers to break, on days like these the world prepared it's monstrous torture for unexpecting hearts.

The forest behind the motel was burnt down and ashen, far back only few trees that survived a past fire arched their crowns high into the sky.

My hands squeezed into tight fists on the window sill. The sound of incoming messages still echoed through the room, alerting me that things are far from being calm.

"Hey Jake?"

What am I supposed to do? I want to ease your pain, I want to take those bad memories and breath-blocking panic away. I want you to wake up and realize it was a bad dream. But it's not. It's reality.

"Thank you for confiding in me, despite all of this"

My freezing breath got caught in my burning lungs. Thoughts ricocheted in my head, so loud I couldn't hear any of them. No, I may could not hear them, but I could feel them in the deepest parts of myself.

I'm so sorry you have to go through all of this, I'm so sorry you have to bear this tremendous pain, I'm so sorry you have to suffer this exceptionally.

Images crept into my mind. Images of you crying, screaming, shaking with sobs, praying. Heart-crushing sounds that weren't even there filled my ears, forcing my eyes tightly shut.

On days like these...

On days like these, I was missing the right words, the words to make things okay, to make the world a little bit better.

I assure you, under no circumstances I expected everything to turn out like this. Chaos and destruction now lined your life, while you could be, should be, out there living the peaceful life you deserve.

I clentched my jaw at the thoughts of all the things gone wasted for you. I'm so sorry...

The pinging noises of the group chat that I had been drowning out halted.

I strolled back to my laptop, heart still beating heavily in my chest. I couldn't focus on the messages, my thoughts still stayed with you.

After I've managed to make out the main parts of the conversation, I realized how bad things were. The group was drifting farther apart. Leaving the fight aside they called an ambulance, but they blamed her for the attack on Richy.

With all the little courage I had left, I opened our chat. I lingered, stared.

You needed somebody. Urgently. You gave me hope, now it's my turn to re-pay this favour.

I hesitated for a moment. What was I supposed to say?

I just typed the first thing that came into my mind.

Hello, MC.

-----

Hey everyone! This was my first Duswood one-shot and I hope you enjoyed it💕 I'm always open for feedback and constructive criticism!

I apologize for any grammar mistakes made, English isn't my native language🙇🏼‍♀️

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair

Chapter 33: Existing in the Bit That’s Left

Summary: Life goes on, whether we will it or not

Read on AO3

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 33: Existing in the Bit That’s Left 

***

When a hermit crab dies, its shell is left behind, sitting at the bottom of the ocean. Empty and lifeless, it remains motionless as the waves cover it with sand.

Jamie had once owned a hermit crab. After it had died, it rattled him that the beautiful shell that looked so much like his pet remained even though the crab was gone. 

Now, Jamie himself was nothing more than a hollowed out shell. 

He knew his heart was gone, every ounce of love within him ripped away, but what had surprised him was that it was as if she’d taken his very body with her as well as his soul. He didn’t have the energy for even the most basic tasks. Food was tasteless. His vision seemed foggy. As tired as he was, he couldn’t sleep. Life seemed to happen around him, but he hardly managed to bring himself along with it. He was being buried under the weight of the emptiness. 

Nothingness shouldn’t have been so heavy. 

He spent three weeks laying in his bed. Barely eating, barely moving. 

Jamie was aware that he was wasting away, but he couldn’t seem to care. Claire wouldn’t want him to give up without her. Even more compelling, he wouldn’t want her to act like this without him. Even as he’d sent her back through the stones, he’d told her to live a good life without him. He wanted her to be able to move on. Except he couldn’t bring himself to do the same, and he never would. After knowing the joy of a full life, there seemed nothing left for him in this hollow existence. 

If he could have reached out and grasped onto some sort of hope in his new life without her— not that any seemed to exist— he still would have chosen not to. All the right decisions, the healthy decisions, the ways to cope and move forward— they all seemed like a betrayal. He didn’t want to move on; he wanted Claire back. 

The first time he’d uttered the horrible truth of Claire’s absence outloud was when Murtagh had forced it out of him. His godfather had come banging on his door after Jamie had ignored his texts for weeks, eventually barging in on Jamie’s state of depressed chaos. He had dragged him out of bed, forced food down his throat, and shoved him in the shower. After Jamie looked less like a corpse, Murtagh coaxed the story out of him— at least, the only story Jamie could give. 

“She’s gone,” he forced out. Hearing the words aloud was like a knife to the gut. He’d known they were true— every beat of his heart without the answering one of hers next to him made that truth abundantly clear. But being forced to say it aloud brought a whole new level of pain. 

Murtagh clearly didn’t know whether he meant she’d broken up with him or died. His godfather tried to probe him for details, but Jamie didn’t have it in him to explain anymore. 

“There’s nothin’ left for me,” Jamie rasped, “she was it. Claire—” his voice broke on her name, but he forced it out, finding some amount of reverence in the shape of it on his lips, “ Claire was my heart and soul. I dinna ken what to do, a ghoistidh.” 

“Ye do what ye have to, lad,” Murtagh said firmly, “ye keep going.” 

“How?” he looked up at him with tears shining in his eyes. “How can I keep going without her?” 

Murtagh brows drew together as he grew thoughtful. His expression reflected the gravity of the situation. His godfather knew that he was desperate for a reason to keep going, crying out for help. Words couldn’t heal him, but something had to be said. Murtagh took his time before saying them, very carefully. 

“Ye’re no’ without her, though. No’ really. Ye’ll carry her memory wi’ ye. Ye keep going, and ye bring her wi’ ye, even if it’s no’ in the way ye would have liked.” 

Jamie swallowed the bile rising in his throat. All he could hear was buzzing, the cotton in his ears growing somehow thicker. 

“I don’t want to,” he forced out, shaking his head, “I don’t—”

The meager contents of Jamie’s stomach rose, and he rushed to the trash can before collapsing to his knees and heaving into it. The grief in his heart tried to force its way out of his body, and he wished it could just end this and tear him from inside out. Murtagh hovered behind him, offering him a wet towel, and Jamie sat back heavily against the cool wall. 

“I ken she wouldna want me tae give up,” Jamie said quietly, barely above a whisper, “but I just dinna want tae keep going.”

Murtagh’s eyes swam with emotion and his face crumpled underneath his beard as his brain came to a conclusion. Clearly his godfather thought the love of Jamie’s life had truly died. And she may as well have been to Jamie, or maybe she had actually di—

The fear that Jamie had been fighting for weeks rose inside him again. It was possible that Claire really was dead. More than just possible. She’d said coming through the stones had been torture, and she’d been so weak afterwards when Jamie had found her the first time she’d gone through. He could only imagine what the trip had done to his barely conscious lass, hanging on by a thread. Or maybe he had waited too long and it had been too late. Maybe she’d gotten back and was too weak to even draw energy anymore. Maybe she’d died on that hill, all alone, grieving his loss as much as he grieved hers.  

This fear haunted him, both waking and sleeping, tearing him into pieces. Seeing Murtagh’s face as the man thought Jamie was mourning her death, Jamie wasn’t so sure he wasn’t . He wished he could know what became of her— anything to stop this horrible speculating that churned his mind. But he was left in the dark. Left to hold on to the tiny comfort that he had done what had to be done. 

For his wife. 

Jamie let his head fall onto his knees, hugging his arms around them so they were pressed tightly to his chest. 

“Jamie. I willna allow ye to waste yerself away,” Murtagh said firmly. “I ken ye’re hurting, and I would never suggest ye ignore it. I only ask that you take care of yerself, even when ye dinna want to. If not for the memory of her, then do it for me, aye?” 

He raised his red-ringed eyes enough to see his godfather, and he realized there was real fear lingering on Murtagh’s face. 

As much as he wanted to let himself fade away, he could never do that to the man sitting in front of him who he loved so dearly. 

“Alright,” Jamie agreed, “alright.” 

***

When Jamie was young, his parents had a yearly tradition where they would send him to his grandfather’s house to stay for a couple of nights. His grandfather was loving enough, but every time Jamie went, he was overcome with intense homesickness. He would cry himself to sleep each night of the visit, feeling like the guest room was freezing to the bone as he imagined the warmth of Lallybroch. 

Every day now felt like that homesickness magnified a hundredfold. 

Claire had been the true home of his heart. Jamie longed and ached for her in ways he hadn’t known possible. 

Only that home had been lost. And he was left lying awake at night dreaming of her warmth and missing her with every fiber of his being.

***

While driving on the highway during a long road trip, inevitably one will see a plastic bag being blown down the road. Aimless, empty, and completely at the mercy of the wind. Jamie would watch them sometimes, tracing their progress before they drifted away. But he never asked himself where it would end up because it didn’t matter. The bag would simply continue on, moving forward without a destination. 

Jamie was no more than a bit of plastic pushed by the breeze. He stayed rooted to his life only by his promise to Murtagh. He began to go about his days with empty precision. He would wake up at 8, brush his teeth, eat one cup of parritch, and head into work. Every night he would come straight home, take a 30 minute walk around his property, cook himself dinner, and fall asleep to the murmurs of the tv. 

On the rare nights when he allowed himself out of his robot-like trance, he would venture into the closet of the guest bedroom where Claire’s dresses still hung, and he would bury his nose in it, hugging it close to his chest, searching desperately for a whiff of her earthy-rose scent. 

On those nights, he would cry himself to sleep. 

Jamie continued on, but he had no idea what he was moving toward. 

***

When he was a lad of about 5, he and Willie had gone out to the barn to play. They had a bit of rope with them, and Willie thought it would be fun to try to walk a baby goat like they walked their dog, Rufus. They’d fashioned a leash for the poor thing, but when the time came to “walk” it, the animal had simply laid on its side as he and Willie had dragged it through the dirt, wailing its disapproval but not moving a muscle until Jamie’s parents had run out and grounded them for a week. For the goat, there hadn’t been so much active resistance as simply a complete shut down. 

When Jenny showed up at Jamie’s door one night, ordering him to get in the car to come over to dinner, Jamie had simply obeyed. Getting dragged was easier than fighting. 

She’d driven him straight to Lallybroch, where she, Ian, and the brood resided, and Jamie somehow managed to find a weak smile within himself for the sake of his nieces and nephew. 

As soon as he came through the door, he was overcome by a stampede of little feet and grabbing hands. Chubby arms wrapped around his legs, his hands were grasped, and his body became a playground. 

“Weans! Where are yer manners?! Say hi to Uncle Jamie!” Jenny admonished. 

“Hi, Uncle,” came the obedient responses from wee Jamie and Maggie. 

Before Jamie even had a chance to respond, he was obliterated by an innocent, well meaning question that cut him the core. 

“Uncle Jamie, where is Ms. Claire? Can she come to dinner too?” 

Jamie froze, every muscle coiled up on instinct from hearing that name. He’d tried to numb it out, tried to let himself get dragged on through life without the roadblock that was any mention of his lost love. 

Jenny knew, of course. Murtagh had told her about Claire’s “death”. Her face shown with sympathy as she watched Jamie stumble back onto the bench seat behind him. He sat down hard, pressing his hands to face, and peered down at wee Jamie. 

His voice was thick, nearly unrecognizable, when he managed to force out the following words: 

“She’s gone to live forever with the faeries.”

His eyes flicked up toward Jenny, whose face showed raw grief. She may not have liked Claire much, but hearing about her death spoken in such terms, or at least seeing Jamie like this, seemed to wreck her. 

Only somehow, speaking those words— the truth, disguised as a fairytale for children— actually freed a tiny knot in Jamie’s chest. 

Wee Jamie looked both disappointed and intrigued at the news. 

“Gone to live wi’ the faeries?” he echoed. 

“Aye,” Jamie nodded. He glanced up at Jenny again, and then back at the weans. Every thought in his head seemed to vanish, and he hadn’t decided to do anything, but his body was moving. He leaned down closer and gestured them toward him. Lowering his voice, he said, “can I tell ye a secret? If ye promise ye willna tell?” 

Both children nodded eagerly, waiting with baited breath. 

“Claire is a faerie. I found her on the faerie hill one day, and I took her in. She wasna meant to be here, you see, it was an accident. But we fell in love, and she decided to stay.” 

“But why did she go back then?” wee Jamie asked. 

Jamie swallowed hard. “She… well, she ran out of faerie dust. She needed tae go back to live with the faeries so she could have all the faerie dust she needs.” 

Tears gathered in his eyes, and he had to blink hard not to shed them. 

“I”m sorry ye lost yer faerie, Uncle Jamie,” Maggie said, reaching out her hand to rest it gently on Jamie’s knee. 

He took it in his, marveling at just how small it was. But brought him comfort, and for the first time in the past three weeks, he thought maybe he wasn’t entirely alone in the world. 

“Me too, Maggie. Me too.” 

***

a/n: One more chapter to go in arc II, and it's a big 'un. See you tomorrow and thank you so much for reading!!

Next