#i was forced to stop speaking scots aged five in school | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

desperationandgin · 5 years

Text

Strawberry Wine; (Part I, Chapter 2)

Rating: General Audiences (for now)

Author: desperationandgin

Also Read On: AO3

Previous Chapter

A/N: Thank you so much for the enthusiasm surrounding this story! I have to thank my betas, @smashing-teacups, @missclairebelle, and @lcbeauchampoftarth - without the three of you, this would read like a college freshman’s first drunken essay. Thank you to my future-wife @filledwithlight for the incredible mood board. Here we go!

Chapter 2: Thirsting for Knowledge

By the time supper was served, more people had arrived than I expected. It became a reunion of sorts with everyone and my uncle, and I didn’t mind that it left me free to engage in my own conversation down the table. I was seated next to Jamie's childhood friend, Ian Murray. Across from me sat Jamie, and by the look on his sister, Jenny’s, face, she was happy to follow my lead and speak with the person across from her.

“Jamie, your home is beautiful. It must take a lot to maintain the grounds. Do you take care of by yourself?” I asked curiously.

When he shook his head, red curls bounced to and fro, barely grazing the sides of his neck. “No, I’m braw, but no’ quite that braw,” Jamie admitted. “Along wi’ my da and I, Ian helps in the stables and my godfather, Murtagh, lives wi’ us as well to help.”

My eyes scanned the faces at the table, unable to place a face with the name.

“He’s no’ here at the moment,” Jamie explained, realizing what I was doing. “He tends to business on my father’s behalf, ye see.”

“Well, I do hope to meet him, though I’m sure I will at some point in the next few months.” The prospect of living here, in the same house with the man across from me, made my stomach knot and my mouth dry.

“Oh, aye, should be the day after next. He’ll likely be bringing more wine from a shipment coming in from my cousin Jared’s warehouse in France,” Jamie explained, even as he poured to fill my current glass.

“Your family is quite impressive,” I noted with a soft smile. “What is it that you hope to do one day?” I realized I’d hardly touched my food and corrected my mistake by eating a few forkfuls of meat pie.

“At the end of the summer planting, I’ll be going to finish my studies in France along wi’ Ian, travel a bit and see more of the world. But after that, here is where I plan to be, to live and work the rest of my days.”

He would build a family here, I thought, as my mind drifted to thinking of his own curly, red-headed moppets, following him around and hanging on his every word. So far, I’d spent no more than ninety minutes or so with him, counting introductions and the courses of our meal. That was plenty of time to know anyone with common sense would follow Jamie anywhere. I couldn’t explain it, but he had an ease about himself that made him seem invincible. Not that he realized it, I posited. He was so charming and endearing that the word precious came to mind. His life would be filled with manual labor, but if seeing him without his shirt was any indication, his body was built for it. He’d looked like a strong, Viking warrior, taller than most Scots. I imagined his life would be filled with laughter as well; his eyes always seemed to dance with it.

“What about you, Sassenach?” he asked casually.

I blinked, turning my brain over in search of the meaning of that word. “What?” I responded ineloquently, wincing internally at myself.

“I mean, what do ye plan to do at the end of the summer?”

For some reason, I could feel my cheeks flushing red, and I cleared my throat, switching to the cool water glass for a sip. “I’m going to nursing school, in London,” I finally answered. “And after that, I’ll keep traveling with my uncle, I suppose, going from place to place.” Finding and discovering new things, and always on the move.

“Ye dinna think of ever settling down somewhere?”

His eyes seemed to be boring into my own, and when I wet my lips, I saw his stare drift down, then back to my eyes.

“I don’t know. I haven’t had a permanent home since the age of five. I believe the longest I’ve stayed anywhere was a year and a half, and that was only because I became ill and was bed-ridden for weeks.”

“What happened to ye?” he asked in alarm, looking me over now for signs that anything was still wrong.

I smiled, hoping that it eased him. “I was fourteen and contracted mononucleosis. It causes a fever and sore throat, not to mention extreme fatigue. I recovered fine, I promise,” I assured him.

He seemed concerned still, but soon settled back in his seat. Before he could speak, raucous laughter drowned him out, and we glanced down at the men laughing over one another’s stories. My gaze moved back to Jamie as he stood, then came around to my side of the table, bending to speak against my ear.

“Would ye care to walk wi’ me, Claire?”

I felt an involuntary shiver run up my spine and wet my lips once more before smiling up at him. I nodded, then scooted my chair back before offering my hand. When he took it, I stood and found myself just a bit shorter than him, my chin tilted up a slight bit to meet his gaze directly. Still holding my hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it. This is what having butterflies in your stomach feels like I thought to myself, feeling my stomach twist in a pleasant, likely cliché, way. Leading me away from the table, he tucked my arm into his and we walked through the dining room, the living room, and eventually out through the front door.

“What did you call me earlier? When you asked me what it was I wanted to do with my life?” I was curious; I assumed it was a Gaelic phrase and hoped it didn’t mean anything unpleasant.

“Oh, I called ye a ‘Sassenach,’” he replied easily. “It doesna mean anythin’ more than ye’re no’ from the place ye currently are. I suppose wherever ye go then, ye’ll be a Sassenach.”

I was quiet for a moment as I processed what he was saying. Maybe I was quiet for too long.

“I’m sorry, Claire, I didna mean to offend ye,” he apologized hastily, and I quickly looked over to reassure him.

“It’s alright. What you said isn’t untrue, I suppose. I’ve always thought of myself as a gypsy. Going from place to place and trading stories of other lands with the locals before moving along. And eventually, I’ll be able to help with medical needs in small communities with no access to proper health care.” It was the most I’d said about it so far, and I instinctively began to apologize for dominating the conversation when Jamie interrupted me.

“Ye must learn so much of the world, see things that most people never will,” he said in awe.

His appreciation of it and understanding why I would choose such a life put me at ease, and I nodded over at him. “I had one of the best educations a child can get, in my opinion. The world was my classroom.” Which sounded a bit forced to my own ears, so I swiftly changed the subject.

“When you travel, where do you want to go first?” I asked, eager to hear more of what he had to say.

“I dinna ken just yet,” he said, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I found a journal that my mam must have kept. She died when I was younger, so I read it, to be reminded of her. There was a list in the back, of all the places she wanted to see, so I thought I might honor her memory and begin there.”

I felt my heart swell in my chest at his sweet words and thoughtful idea. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Jamie,” I encouraged. “Let me rephrase my question then. Where would you like to go first from your mother’s journal?”

“The first country listed is Greece; she wrote that she wanted to see all of the ruins. Have ye been, Sassenach?”

I nodded and turned my gaze toward him. “It’s beautiful and old. Even despite that, it’s so easy to see what it once was. I enjoy the mythology of it all, and the ocean is beautiful.”

“When I leave at the end of the summer, it will be the first time I’ve seen such large waters, and I’ll only be flying over them.”

“You’ve never seen the ocean?” I asked curiously as we walked on a path that meandered lazily toward a field of heather. The moon was bright and full, making the purple flowers seem translucent.

“No. After my mam died in childbed, my brother, Willie, died of a fever as well. I’ve never thought to leave Lallybroch and no’ help. I went to school each day, down in the village wi’ my sister, but ‘tis only because of my godfather moving here permanently that I feel alright wi’ going away now.”

And even then, in a few years, he would be right back here. He was a good man, a good son, and I found myself, for the first time, longing for that sort of feeling. To know that I could go anywhere and always come home.

“I’m sorry that you’ve lost so much, Jamie. I do think following your mother’s list is beautiful. Perhaps I could even help you plan, tell you where to go in each place that’s especially worth seeing?”

His grin at me was broad and I couldn’t help but return it.

“Aye, that would be verra kind of ye, Sassenach.” I supposed I had a new nickname, and I couldn’t find a reason to dislike it coming from his mouth. As we walked through the heather, his free hand grazed along the flowers before speaking again. “My da told me a wee bit about ye, that ye live a nomadic life. Has it always been you and yer uncle, then?”

I could tell he was curious but trying not to be blatantly nosey, and I reached to pat his arm both in reassurance and so that he would stop and we could sit on an old stone wall that cut across the field. Once settled, I crossed my legs at the ankles and braced my hands on either side of me. “My parents died when I was a very little girl, and my Uncle Lamb took me in, rather than have me shipped away to a boarding school in the mountains.” I thought back, to the first time I’d slept in my new (temporary) home. Everything had felt so cluttered with books and papers; it felt claustrophobic, and the bed hadn’t been mine. I could still remember lying awake until, eventually, my uncle began his nighttime ritual which included smoking his pipe. The smell had wafted to my nose and been such a reminder of home, that I’d fallen right asleep.

Jamie reached out to cover my hand and pulled me out of my thoughts. “Ye’ve lost too much as well then,” he said in understanding, but not pity.

“I suppose I have. But I can’t really remember my mother the way you remember yours.” I didn’t know how to explain it, that I’d spent more of my life without parents than with. It didn’t truly feel as though there was anything to mourn when I was raised by someone I loved and lived a life others envied. “I just mean, I don’t miss as much because there wasn’t enough time for me to make cohesive memories.” I had a sinking feeling I was making myself sound like a terrible person, but Jamie surprised me.

“Aye, I understand ye, Sassenach. Ye never had cause to truly be sad and lived happily. Ye dinna need to worry about that, ‘tis genuine.”

Without even realizing it, he’d soothed a quiet voice in the back of my mind and I couldn’t help but scoot a bit closer to him. When my hand drifted to rest on his leg, the rough fabric beneath my fingers reminded me of something I’d wanted to ask. “Do you and your father, your godfather, always wear kilts?”

“Aye, we do. Once the ban on them was lifted a couple centuries ago, it became a custom of the men left in the Fraser clan to wear them. And so, we’ve always upheld the tradition. There are times that call for trousers, but ‘tis my kilt I’ll wear on my travels as well.”

He was a proud Highlander; it was clear he would bleed for Scotland through and through. “I like that. The spirit of keeping your traditions alive, honoring your ancestors who fought and died on this land,” I murmured as I leaned into Jamie. The sounds of night were all around us, various insects coming to life somewhere beneath our feet, which dangled from the wall.

“May I ask ye a question, Sassenach?” Jamie asked, turning his head just enough that the words fell into my hair.

“Of course,” I responded, my speech lazy and unhurried to end the conversation and thus the walk with Jamie. So far, it seemed the attraction was mutual on both sides, and I decided to let the evening --and conversation-- go where it would.

“Do ye think in the future, our paths could cross on our travels? I ken ye said you’ll be going to nursing school, but after that, perhaps.”

I looked up at him in surprise. “You would want to travel with me?” I asked. Wasn’t the point of a young man traveling (before settling down) to experience life on his own, sow oats, and make memories, as it were?

“Who better a companion than someone who’s likely seen every place on my mam’s list? Besides, something tells me she wouldna want me to do it alone. She’d want me to bring someone along.”

I smiled softly and pulled back so I could look at him fully. “You would wait until I finished school?”

“Oh, aye. Two of those years, I’ll be finishing school myself, so that’s no’ a problem, Sassenach. And after that, I can do a bit of traveling wi’ Ian before circling back to London for ye.”

He already had a well-thought-out plan, and I stared at him in shock and amusement. “How long have you been coming up with this?”

There was only a small pause, small enough that I noticed it before Jamie spoke again, the tips of his ears turning a lovely shade of red. “Since I saw ye in the window, staring.”

His confession made my stomach twist in a way that made me tense in some sort of anticipation. Of what, I wasn’t sure. “Jamie, you should do some traveling alone, too. Experience things at your own pace for a while.”

“I will, there will be time for it when Ian and I part ways. He’s promised to Jenny, ye ken? So he’ll be coming back here to wed her I suppose, and after the wedding, I’ll have time enough to travel on my own.” He had a plan for every part of this and looked at me in expectation.

I couldn’t deny that the idea thrilled me. I wanted to know more about Jamie, I wanted to never stop talking with him. Already I missed the warmth of being pressed into the crook of his body. I’d never dated seriously before now and I suddenly understood why: it was supposed to feel like this. Nothing ever had before. I found myself agreeing before thinking any further on the matter.

“All right, Jamie. When I’m done with school, we’ll meet in London, and then go to Greece. Together.” Saying it made me smile; I’m sure it looked a bit crazed, because that’s how I felt making long-term plans with a man I’d only met hours ago. Still, I rationalized, for four years we would be slowly getting to know one another.

Taking hold of my hand, Jamie kissed the back of it. “Then it’s settled. I’ll wait for ye, Sassenach.”

We held one another’s gaze for a while, before the sound of Uncle Lamb calling for me from the house slowly filtered into my ears. For the most part, he knew I was a wanderer, but he was still protective of me in some ways, knowing I’d wandered with a boy.

“Come, Sassenach,” Jamie offered, standing and reaching out. He didn’t offer his arm this time, but his hand.

Smiling, I lowered myself to the ground before reaching out for him, tangling our fingers gladly. We seemed to fit together and walked leisurely back to his home. We let go of one another once we were within viewing distance, but exchanged sly looks as we walked through the archway. Moving toward Lamb, I kissed his cheek.

“You really should go on a walk of the property, Uncle. It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, yes,” he’d agreed. “And moreso in the daylight, I’m sure.”

His comment made my cheeks flush a bit and I was glad it was likely too dark to see. Once inside, the four of us were soon joined by Jenny and Ian, and we all enjoyed a dram of whisky. I listened as Brian regaled us all with a story about Jenny getting stuck in a tree and Jamie having to bribe her down with sweets. It was the sort of memory I lacked; one filled with playing with another child. I had no siblings, and it was always difficult to make friends as a young girl, traveled as we were.

Eventually, I could no longer hold my eyes open, and when I jerked awake after briefly nodding off, Jamie was looking at me, features soft.

“I could walk ye to your room if ye’d like,” he offered.

Deciding it was likely for the best, I bid my uncle and our company goodnight before letting Jamie lead the way upstairs. I fell into step beside him as we walked down the hallway, admiring portraits along the walls as we went. Outside of my door was a portrait of a woman with hair as red as Jamie’s.

“Your mother?” I guessed, my fingers hovering over the canvas, not touching.

“Aye,” he confirmed with a soft smile. “A self-portrait. She did all of them,” he explained, gesturing down the hall.

“She was an incredibly talented woman, Jamie,” I breathed out in genuine admiration. Pulling my eyes away from the portrait, I opened my bedroom door before turning to face him. “Thank you for your company this evening.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, but I hated that it sounded so formal. I hoped to remedy that by reaching for his hand, holding onto him again.

We locked eyes, and for a moment he let go of my hand, only to cradle it in his before tracing the lines of my palm with his fingers. I didn’t know what it was that made my heart tighten in my chest, but it also made my lips part and the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Ye’re sae bonny, Sassenach,” he murmured then, fingers dragging along my life line. “And delicate.”

“I’m not made of glass,” I managed, swallowing heavily.

His eyes flicked to mine, and then he smiled, full of warmth, before raising my hand to his lips and bowing his head to kiss it. He lingered for beats longer than typical before letting me go.

“Goodnight, Sassenach.”

I felt myself reach behind me to grip the doorknob in an effort to keep from falling over.

“Goodnight, Jamie.”

I watched him smile one more time before walking down the hall and disappearing into his own room. I only had one thought as I stepped into my own quarters and shut the door behind me.

He’d picked a hell of a time to be a perfect gentleman.

Next Chapter

#outlander fic #outlander #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #strawberry wine #my fic

243 notes · View notes

defenestrata · 6 years

Note

erich + ALL (too bad suffer w me)

stares into camera like i’m in the office. thanks realm. i lov having friends on the internets. i’m still figuring out erich’s character bc he was ( and likely still is ) a little bland but what’s under the cut is long so enjoy djhsjhfs

QUESTIONS FOR YOUR OCS

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

about half an hour at best, to be honest. and he’s the most patient person in his family.

How easy is it for your character to laugh?

not easy, not at all. erich isn’t no-nonsense, he just doesn’t have a tendency to open his mouth and laugh. sharp exhales and repressed smirks all around.

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?

sleeping pills. due to a couple of past incidents, erich has a crippling discomfort in the dark. and he’s also not rich enough to keep the lights on all night. about 1/3 of the time, he doesn’t need artificial medication, but sometimes he does.

How easy is it to earn their trust?

full and complete ‘i’d die for you and i know you’d die for me’ trust ? near impossible ! erich’s trusted like five people in his life, one of which went missing, two of which were separated from him and the other two that betrayed him.

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

his idea of mistrust is pretty black and white. which means that he only decides to lose faith when you do something that stabs him in the back. that’s probably why two people have already stabbed him in the back. maybe one more will.

Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

laws are only good for making sure everyone stays out of everyone else’s way. otherwise, miscellaneous laws like piracy and intellectual property aren’t that important to him.

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

the one particular thing that triggers nostalgia for him is snow. erich’s memory of snow is not separate from his memory of old friends and family. until the point that he didn’t reunite with his fam, he felt nothing but a hollow bitterness. now, seeing snow is a little more calming.

What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child?

alright, so for one, for the longest time he was supposed to be an important role model for his sister, younger than him by five years. so he was pushed to start being responsible from a pretty young age. after that he had to be pushed to participate in things at school, which he hated doing because it was all silly and he was bad at arts and crafts.

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

oh yeah, sure. he has no sanctity when it comes to that kind of stuff. his first swear word has to be shit. but in german, so scheiße. mama was absolutely shooked.

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

unfort, erich has told and continues to tell a lot of lies, some little and white, others less so. the most significant lie he’s told is hiding what really happened while he was on his own from his family. okay, this needs some insight on his backstory jhsjfds but uh to summarise: he was separated from his family, under the guardianship of a stranger for a little while, but got involved in deep web conspiracies and eventually got himself kidnapped and psychologically tortured for a bit but he hasn’t told his fam about it after they reunited.

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

his pride, damn it. he will never admit he hasn’t understood anything ever, he’ll just nod and try to fill in the gaps himself and i hate him.

How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

try his best to reach it. his parents didn’t raise a quitter. probably just duck into a quiet place if there are too many people around.

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

he thinks he looks really good in this grey jacket he has, which he’s especially partial to. it’s pretty shit. what he really looks good in are stark colours, especially black and white.

What animal do they fear most?

dogs. he has allergies. other than that, maybe raccoons.

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

he rehearses absolutely nothing and dies like a man. however, to be honest, speaking isn’t really his thing, it’s kind of a last resort. he’s much, much more of a listener. that being said, he has the tendency to say things that aren’t socially tactful, but not frequently.

What makes their stomach turn?

later in his arc he’s forced to be a decent protagonist and blackmail the antagonist with what the antagonist loves the most. he doesn’t like being in a position where there’s absolutely no doubt he’s doing something bad. basically if he knows he’s breaking the golden rule, he’s going to be uncomfortable.

Are they easily embarrassed?

yes. yes. and his friend jamie, another oc, will use this to her advantage until she dies.

What embarrasses them?

compliments. insults. mentions of his past. just anything that’s about him, being said by another people. he talks about himself, others talk about themselves

What is their favorite number?

what’s the point ?? he has no favourites.

If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

noah fence but he’s a terrible person to ask about this. he’d literally say “familial love is like platonic love but for family” and “romantic love is platonic love but when you kiss”.

Why do they get up in the morning?

fuck if he knows. first it was because he’d get dragged out of bed by his physical therapist if he didn’t show up. now it’s because he’s being hunted down by an organised crime cult thing.

How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

erich has difficulty making personal attachments to anything, so he isn’t frequently overwhelmed by strong feelings of jealousy. if he is, he has difficulty making anything of it beyond “i am mad. why am i mad. what”.

How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?

for the first week erich does try to take some kind of moral high ground and ignore it, but second week leads to bitterness and snideness. although envy is not really a big deal for him. he has a fairly healthy family dynamic once he reunites with them, finances aren’t terrible etc. if i had to attribute a fatal flaw to them it’d be either pride or wrath.

Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

i mean, in theory he’s comfortable because he doesn’t think of it as some super taboo subject. sure, sex. but because he’s been socially constrained for much of his life he’s just kind of bleh about it.

What are their thoughts on marriage?

marriage is marriage. woop. does he want to get married ? heck no, he’s got shit to do.

What is their preferred mode of transportation?

the london tube (he lives in london). the organisation of so many lines with all the crossover points is so, so satisfying.

What causes them to feel dread?

forgetting. names, places, faces, details. especially when he can’t remember if it was important or not. he hates being surprised by events.

Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

yes. yes. absolutely yes. truth is way overrated in society in his opinion. nothing is really true because everything is subjective. in which case, people can just pick the reality that suits them. if it doesn’t hurt anybody, why bother.

Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

no. his ideal isn’t as much an image of himself as it is the goal of taking down aforementioned organised crime ring. he hasn’t done that yet.

Who do they most regret meeting?

i’m so very glad you asked. albert michael strauss, a colleague of erich’s father, who took him in after he was separated from his family, and took splendid care of him — for the first year. after that, he realised that erich was involved in shady business and gave him out to the police without a blink which later led to the kidnapping. yeah, erich wants him dead.

Who are they the most glad to have met?

kisha and jamie, his physical therapist and her mentee respectively. they were pretty successful in bringing him out of his shell after the torture, giving him support, asking about his family, helping out with finances, and finally even letting him stay with them when he gets evicted later in the story.

Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

if erich’s super comfortable with you he may tell you stories of his younger sister being dumb. of which he has quite a few. otherwise, if he’s feeling a little prideful, he’ll tell you the story of how he got onto a plane and got off it scot free without a boarding pass or a passport. yes, that did actually happen, and he’s so proud.

Could they be considered lazy?

no. he knows what he wants and he’s proactive enough to get it.

How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

oh boy, okay so erich rarely does things that make him feel a super genuine sense of guilt. he tends to justify it with ‘it was necessary’. but if something does indeed make him feel guilty he will he haunted by it for days and days.

How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

he listens and nods and maybe even quips. if its someone very close he’ll agree to help if needed. he’s got a very impersonal kind of supportive system that i’m still figuring out.

Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?

i mean provided that a) he trusts someone, and b) cares about them to the extent that he has such strong platonic love that he begins to be confused about his feelings, he’d be in love. but that’s a huge process. so no thanks.

Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?

not really sksksk he forgets things like a cool person.

What memory do they revisit the most often?

memories of being locked in a tiny dark room, memories of being kept in a blindingly white, noiseless room. memories of being bombarded with loud and overlapping speeches and music till he can’t even hear his own thoughts. that kind of memory.

How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?

difficult. his natural cynicism of people emphasizes on their flaws and may even ignore their good points. even with his best friends, he can’t ignore flaws when they pop up. it doesn’t diminish his appreciation of them, however.

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

facts: erich’s sense of self is awful. he is pretty much playing a video game character of himself in the real world, interacting with objects and making observations with little attention on himself. if someone did call them out for being apathetic, cold and/or straight up duplicitous and condescending he’ll go “yes but what’s your point”

How do they feel about children?

okay, kids are a bit of a weak spot with erich, mostly because he has a baby sister. he likes how silly and unbothered about the world they are, it’s very amusing to him. also, objectively, he’s relatively decent at calming kids down and taking care of basic needs. once the mess that is his plot is over he wouldn’t mind having a kid.

How badly do they want to reach their end goal?

he wants to take down mettugi pretty badly but he’s not passionately blindsided enough to do something stupid. he’s willing to kill but he’s not willing to die. if he plays his cards right it won’t be necessary.

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

shrug emoji. it all depends on who he can connect with.

QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS

A) Why are you excited about this character?

i’m excited mainly because i want to break a really gross trope in writing him. there’s this trope of tall, dark, handsome boys with dark pasts that are abusive to their friends and generally flat characters with no real meaning to them. i want a surface level tall, dark and handsome with genuine wit, capacity for sympathy and a moral code skskks

B) What inspired you to create them?

oh boy long story short i doodled a person on the back of a test paper in ninth grade which gave me an idea for a detached character who hacks in solitude and he’s sort of developed over the years into what he is today. no single thing inspired him.

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

no, because they’re the protagonist for the first segment of this story.

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

absolutely not ! draft one erich was much older, and ethnically german. this erich is younger and the son of turkish immigrants to germany.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

i think we’re both too detached and awkward to get along and get close, but we certainly wouldn’t have arguments.

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

frustration because ARGH i’m having trouble getting a hold of him and fleshing him out

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

erich is meant to be a little volatile, but i’m having difficulty defining it very well. also it gets everyone around them to pull away just when they were getting close and that’s frustrating as an author too.

H) What trait do you admire most?

casual sympathy ! erich won’t hold your hand and tell you it’s alright but he will try to cook for you. he also tends to be generous to buskers and the like just because.

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

yes but i do that with all my ocs because they’re so defined by their context and canon.

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

uh i’m not 100% sure what this question is asking tbh but the way this story is proceeding it’s very much driven by the characters — the story doesn’t make the muses, it’s the other way around.

#LONG POST FUCK #realmzenith #oc talk.

5 notes · View notes

blacknovelist · 6 years

Note

To get your mind working through the haze of woozyness from the anesthesia, A more specific ask for the AU+AU of the Canon!1-A and Ageswap!1-A in Role Reversal world: Both classes meeting Number 1 Hero All for One, Principal Stein, and both Deku's and Toshinori having an encounter with their villainous counterpart. And being aided by Hero!AFO and Shigaraki, who both Canon and Ageswap pupil's had discovered was a bit of a shy dork beneath his detached demeanor. At least in school.

Hoh, the effects were mostly gone, I think, but thank you for the thought! Mostly, the anaesthetic just made it so I couldn't much stop talking, but that's not too different from me on the regular anyway, haha. :PBut nonetheless, to go into greater depths concerning each class's reactions to specific characters in the Role Reversal verse... Not much changes from the previous answer, admittedly, apart from some more specific little bits.Ageswap 1-A would have the easiest time of adjusting, so to speak, though encountering Principal Stain would still be Weird as Hell bc Stain more or less stays the same between universes tbh (him being cast as principal is a surprising choice, but I can't say I don't think it's interesting! :0). I imagine their reaction to seeing Canon 1-A's villains as heroes and that would be, just, off in general. You know something isn't quite right, but, you can't exactly say anything about it either. Encountering All for One as the top hero, for Ageswap Deku especially, is damn surreal. They only know AfO as the calm, cool, collected student of a fully grown Shigaraki, but seeing him as this larger than life figure, only comparable to Ageswap Izuku's status?? They know they can trust this alternate, logically, but instinct is a bitch - only the fact that they're used to, again, young AfO, really helps however little. The same goes for Role Reverse Shigaraki, too.Poor canon 1-A has no such fallback. Most of the kids have difficulty accepting and getting used to Shigaraki and AfO as "good guys", especially Shigaraki. Though, Role Reversal Shigaraki would be a bit younger than canon Shigaraki, I guess? Which isn't much, but it'd help, a bit. I envision their reactions to Role Reversal AfO, Shigaraki and Stain to be a lot like their reaction to Ageswap Enji before they really got used to him, except about ten times worse and lasting three times as long. Toshinori is the worst off when AfO is around, though at least RR AfO wears a different outfit from canon, I imagine.A lot of characters who were more directly affected by the villain counterparts (canon Toshinori, all the kids who went to Kamino Ward to find Bakugou, canon Bakugou, etc) find themselves unable to keep their eyes off the Role Reversal guys, though not for lack of trying. They sleep in shifts for the first few months, for their own peace of mind most of all. Mostly it's all very disorienting. I mean, imagine someone you hate at work or at school is suddenly a good person trying to help you even though you know they hate you back in reality - you want to be able to like them back, but memories and life experience are a bitch. Slotting in timeline-wise, chances are, when canon and Ageswap 1-A encounter the Role Reversal villains, it's mostly RR!Izuku and a handful of other RR villains like RR!Tenya, RR!Tsuyu, and RR!Ashido. Mostly because in my head, they (and a few others he took with him there's no way he'd go with like three ppl) would be best at getting in and out of places and chances are, RR!Izuku didn't attack the 1-A's to prove a point or cripple anytime, he did it to suss out his hero counterparts. Still, even outnumbered, RR Izuku is not a force to be messed with, and he makes it known. For canon Izuku, and canon 1-A, it's all just shock. What comes to mind are a bunch of initial plans I had for A Place to Be, where Hisashi was originally a criminal/villain and made that fact known to Izuku and the others, tho the way I wrote Izuku's reaction in the final drafts didn't change much even tho he's not technically outright anything bad in APTB now. But the tldr of it is, a lot of heavy shock, and also the entirety of canon 1-A aggressively converging around canon Izuku and hammering into everyone's head that their izuku is not the man in front of them wrecking shitWhile canon Izuku reboots and the rest of canon 1-A split between holding off the Role Reversal villains and looking after their Izuku, Ageswap are moving in to also stop the villains. This villain Izuku, while it's strange to be fighting someone who shares faces with their teacher/dad and a dear friend, is still different enough that tbh it isn't.........a huge challenge to fight him and the other RR villains. That's probably the only real good thing about all this multiverse jumping - even if their faces are the same, their ages and experiences and outfits change too.When canon Izuku is ready to get in on this, no one holds back against the villains, regardless of faces. It would be a disservice to everyone, if they didn't treat this fight like a real possible life or death one, because you just really never know if something is gonna go wrong, ever. What ends up most jarring, though, is definitely the sight of RR!Shigaraki leaping into the fray with RR 1-A and the teachers, and with all the ferocity of a very angry cat. Before this, Shigaraki probably kept distance - he, too, has his fair share of weariness, but also in general he's not a huge people person. But here, in a fight, keeping people safe? That's his scene, man.Ageswap Deku has a minor heart attack (or five) watching little Shigaraki leap into the fight, at first because he can't get the image of his students disintegrating out of his mind, then because it turns out that sometimes Shigaraki of the RR universe can get a wee bit reckless out there and Jesus Christ boy watch your sides please be careful holy shit please don't die(Canon Toshinori is watching with him and thinking about how this could have been his Shigaraki, his Tomura, once upon a time. It hurts, thinking about it, because it reminds him again of every single way he's managed to fail his Nana and her family.)RR Izuku and them back off quickly and get away scot-free, though not for lack of trying. They just know what they're doing. The juxtaposition of RR Shigaraki in a fight and RR Shigaraki in any other situation on planet Earth is massive, reminds everyone of Ageswap Enji, and does well to diffuse a few of the lingering tensions after that brawl. Some of canon and Ageswap will never really be able to be casual or normal around the Role Reversal guys (Canon Tenya and Ageswap Enji to Stain, canon Toshinori to AfO, both Deku's to Shigaraki), but, there's less reason to sleep with an eye open once you understand a little bit more about the other side.

#Boku no hero academia #BNHA #My hero academia #mha #Ageswap AU #Role Reversal AU #Novelist answers #anonymous #this is a bit of a boring answer and I apologise for that but I'm not sure what else to say I'm afraid #Thank you for sending such interesting asks AU Anon!! :D

5 notes · View notes

writtenthroughtime · 7 years

Text

Mo Chridhe - Part 12

Previous Installments: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Jamie pulled Claire down the sidewalk at a run, while keeping a soaked newspaper overtop of her head. The rain relentlessly hammered all around, the trees swayed with the force of the storm. Seeing a faint glow of lights ahead, Claire redirected Jamie to the establishment.

The smell of tea, coffee and old books surrounded them. Jamie taking a deep breath and letting out a contented sigh at the comforting smell.

“Where have ye brought us, Sassenach?” he asked, looking around the cramped space. Worn leather arm chairs and sun faded plush velvet chairs were strategically placed around windows and bookshelves.

Claire shrugged while running her fingers through the drenched curls.

“Storms really ragin’ innit?” a deep Appalachian accented voice said from directly behind Claire, causing her to jump and let out a gasp. Jamie whirled around to face the stranger.

The old man had a permanent hunch, and his beard would rival that of Brianna’s favorite Harry Potter character, Dumbledore.

“M’name’s Art Altizer, and this here is my shop. Feel free to come ‘round to the back to dry off by the fire.” In his accent it sounded like ‘far’. He gestured to follow as he weaved around furniture and books with surprising ease. “I have a small selection of drinks and cakes if you’re interested.”

Jamie quirked a brow at Claire, and she smiled in response. They followed Art to the back where a teen leaned against the countertop, her tattooed hands tapping on her cell phone.

“Dee here can make the fanciest coffees you’ve ever seen, with little designs and everything floating in the cup!” the old man complimented his worker.

With a hug and an eye roll Dee corrected Art, “It’s latte foam art Grandda, not rocket science.”

Art smiled and let out a chuckle. “Ah, so you’ve said before. Her lattes are almost too beautiful to drink,” he said, turning back to Jamie and Claire.

“We’ll take two, but make one decaf, please,” Claire said to Art who beamed and clapped.

“Very good! Dee, m’dear…”

“Already ahead of you Gramps!”

Jamie guided Claire to a loveseat that sat directly in front of a roaring fire. He sighed and peeled off his jacket.

“Weatherman said this is the storm off the latest hurricane. Should last few more hours. Y’all are welcome to stay as long as you like. The books are free to read and borrow. I have a sign out sheet just over there.” Art pointed a crooked finger at an owl carved podium.

“Thank you. You’ve been so kind to us,” Claire said, taking the latte from Dee.

A small bell dinged and Art’s eyes lit up again as he scurried towards the front to welcome another customer.

“Gramps loves having people here. Not too many people stop by anymore, not since the Barnes & Noble opened up down the street,” Dee commented, pulling at a loose purple strand of hair.

“I’m sorry to hear that. This place looks incredible!” Jamie said in earnest. Dee gave a half-hearted smile and shrugged.

“He spends all his time here since my Granny Deeana passed last year. He opened this place for her because she loved sweets and a good book at all times,” she said with an imitation of her grandmother and a smile. “I was named after her and spent all of my childhood in here. I fell in love with the place too. I wish more customers would come.”

“We saw your light, that’s how we knew to come here. All along the street, the windows were dark and uninviting, but this…” Claire waved her hand. “This place showed warmth and led us here.”

Dee snorted. “Yeah, well, three more buildings down and you’d have found a Starbucks and the Barnes & Noble. That’s where tourists want to go.”

Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by her grandfather ushering in another disheveled person.

“...oh yes sir! We do have scones. Butterscotch, blueberry, chocolate, and vanilla flavored ones all in this here case. Which would you like and I’ll have Dee warm it up for you?”

The man chuckled. “Surprise me.”

Ice formed in the pit of Claire’s stomach at the voice, a voice she hoped didn’t belong to who she thought it could be. When the stranger turned around, his blond hair and light blue eyes confirmed Claire’s dread. Her ex had found her.

“Cl-Claire?” John stuttered and Jamie stiffened at Claire’s side.

“Hello John,” she said tersely.

“I can’t believe it! Claire Beauchamp as I live and breathe!” he exclaimed, pulling her up into a hug. Claire patted his back lightly. “What are you doing stateside? Last I heard you were in South Africa on some wild goose chase of a dig with that hairbrained uncle of yours.”

Claire’s lips tightened and she nodded. “Yes, well, time does move on and that was nearly fifteen years ago. I was in South Africa looking for a magical talisman my Uncle believed to be hidden near the cape, but that was on my summer holiday from uni.” Claire groped behind her for Jamie’s hand, when he laced his fingers with hers, she pulled him to her side. “This is my husband, James Fraser.”

“Hu-husband?” The smaller man’s adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes shifted nervously, taking in the large form of Jamie Fraser. “Ni-nice to meet you. Claire and I go way back.” John stuck out a hand that Jamie took, squeezing harder than necessary.

“Aye, weel Claire hasna ever mentioned ye.” His Scots burr thickening with each word, overpowering the nasal british accent of John’s, who nervously laughed.

“Ah, you see, we ah… didn’t end things on good terms.”

Jamie arched an eyebrow as John nervously played with the hair at the back of his head.

“No, you see, ah… well. I mean that… what happened was…”

“He cheated on me with the local paper boy then tried to force me into marriage because his mother wanted him to marry a woman, all while maintaining his relationship with the underaged boy. Mind you, this happened when I was eighteen and had no inclination to be wed,” Claire stated with little emotion. “I had just been accepted to Oxford and several schools here in the US. I wanted to be a doctor, not a nobleman’s beard.”

Jamie tried hard not to laugh, a quick pinch to his side stopped it from exploding out of him.

“Aye, weel then, John. Did ye and yer paperboy lover continue after Claire rejected ye?”

John jerked his head. “No. Percy decided that he’d rather take his chances with another man than me.”

“Then who was the lucky lad that married ye?” Jamie nodded at the golden band on John’s hand.

John shoved his hand into his coat pocket. “Her name is Isobel, and we have a son together. My mother got what she always wanted. A grandchild and for me to marry a woman.”

Claire arched an eyebrow at this. “Well congratulations, John. I had no idea you were willing to give a woman company again.”

A feminine hurmph came from behind Claire.

“Isobel!” John said nervously, walking around to get his wife and the toddler at her side.

“Izzy, this is Claire Fraser and her husband James. Claire, this is my wife Isobel and my son, George.”

“Hello,” Isobel sneered.

“Hello,” Claire said sweetly then turned to the child. “And hello to you, young man. How old are you? I believe my son may be about your age.”

“Five,” George said, sticking out his hand showing all of his fingers.

“Oh my! You are a big boy.” George nodded and gave her a toothy smile.

“My daddy says that I’m gonna be even bigger than he is!”

Claire smiled at the boy and nodded. “I’m sure you will be.”

“Do not speak to my son like that,” Isobel said hatefully.

“I’m sorry, in what way?” Claire asked confused, eyebrows drawing in.

“Like a condescending bitch! I know exactly who you are, Claire Beauchamp! You’re the bitch who ruined my life!”

Taken aback, Claire looked from Isobel to John, who was frowning at the ground. “I don’t--”

“Don’t give me that! It was your fault I had to marry a queer! Your fault I had to give him a sorry excuse of a--” She cleared her throat. “It’s your fault! If you would have married him when told, I wouldn’t be in this situation. Do you have anything to say now?” she demanded, her face turning puce.

“Your hat is crooked,” Claire said calmly.

George had begun to cry and jerk his hand away from his mother, who was squeezing it to the point of pain. John walked over to her, but she threw the child’s hand away and stormed out of the shop and back out into the rain.

“John, I am so sorry,” Claire said, tears in her eyes. John shook his head picking up his son trying to soothe his pain and ease the crying.

“Let Claire take a look at him, aye? We’ll keep an eye on him if ye want to run after her,” Jamie offered, patting John on the shoulder.

He nodded reluctantly. “Georgy?”

The boy’s red and tear tracked face dug deeper into his father’s neck. “Georgy, I’m going to let Mrs. Fraser hold you and look at your hand.”

George shook his head and a muffled ‘no’ could be heard.

“Yes, dear one. Mrs. Fraser is a doctor and knows how to help hurt people.”

A small, ‘okay’ was murmured and John handed over his son to Claire.

“I’ll be back shortly. This isn’t the first time Izzy has spoken out like this. I,” he sighed. “I don’t think she’s happy with our new move to the states, or my other preference.”

They both nodded at John as he took off after his irate wife. Claire didn’t even have to ask when Dee and Art brought her cloths and ice in a plastic bag. She checked George’s hand, and didn’t think anything was broken. He cried and hiccupped himself to sleep on her chest while cradling the ice wrapped hand between them.

Jamie smoothed back the boys light brown hair. “At first I was jealous and angry at yer ex, but now all I feel is pity. The lad shouldna have to experience what’s to come.”

“He’ll need a friend,” Claire confirmed.

“Aye, maybe a whole houseful of friends, the lad and yer John.” Jamie kissed Claire’s temple and rubbed George’s back.

“I think the Fraser clan can help there. So long as you don’t mind the past…?” Claire asked nervously.

“It’s yer past, Sassenach. I ken I wish I was yer only man, but I canna fault ye for lookin around when I wasna there.” He kissed her again and she leaned into his embrace.

“One day, I’d like to have a less exciting trip to a coffee and tea shop,” Claire mumbled and Jamie laughed.

#Mo Chridhe #Modern AU #Jamie and Claire #featuring: LJG #Claire is pregnant with another Fraser Bairn #The Ex a Dragon and A Wizard #Prompt from A03

128 notes · View notes

randomconnections · 7 years

Text

2017 Gallabrae

NOTE: I’m running a bit behind with the blog posts and I’m trying to catch up. This was from last weekend. Also, this is the first post since making some changes to the site, so I’m hoping this goes smoothly.

The Scots were back in town! That meant parades, weird music, weird athletics, and even weirder food. This year we participated in the Great Scots Parade, as we usually do with the Upstate Minis, and I made the Saturday trek up to Furman to see the games.

Great Scots Parade

The activities started Friday afternoon with the Great Scots Parade through downtown Greenville. As we have done in the past, we joined the Upstate Minis to bring up the rear of the parade. This time, however, there was a twist. Joining us in the Mini would be my sister, Glynda, and our great niece and nephew Olivia and Ethan.

For this parade most of the Mini owners decorate their cars with tartans and other Scottish accouterments.

Usually we don’t, but this year Laura wanted to decorate, so she brought flowers to festoon the back of our car.

While Olivia put flowers in her hair, Ethan had his own ideas about decorating for the parade.

It was a long wait for the kids until parade time. They watched as folks in kilts and various other costumes walked by. One of the problems with being in a parade is that you don’t get to see all of the other stuff.

Just before the kids went too stir crazy it was time to load up and line up for the parade. Somehow we managed to fit all five of us in the Mini.

Ethan loved the parade. He waved at everyone, and even greeted folks from his school. Olivia was a bit more…reserved. We had to coax her to wave at everyone. Both kids loved the parade, though, and it was great having them with us.

Furman Scottish Games

This year I had a goal. I wanted to spend as much time listening to music as possible. It really didn’t matter to me if I saw any of the athletics or other competitions. I had seen that they were having a “Celtic Happy Hour” at 5:30. My plan was to go over early and listen a bit, then maybe come back later for the 5:30 event.

I arrived about mid-morning and there was already a crowd gathering. I stopped by the British Car Show to see my friend at Upstate Minis. I also had to drool over the other cars, too. Rolls Royce was the featured brand this year.

Laura had been able to get me a ticket ahead of time, so I was able to skip the line and walk on in. I could hear piping competitions and athletics on the field, but my first stop was at the vendors. There were tartans of all stripes, so to speak, and enough stuff to turn anyone into a Scot, or at least make them look like one.

One tent had Bodhrans. I’ve been wanting one since I’ve gotten on this percussion kick, and thought at least one of the vendors might have something like this. Alas, they were made of plastic and had some tacky Irish designs on them. Plus, they were far too expensive. I decided it could wait. I also decided to pass on the Utilikilts.

This year, as in the past, there was lots of merchandise aimed at the “fantasy Scot.” This is just another form of cosplay, but with a William Wallace/Braveheart bent to it.

I took a quick turn through the clan tents. In the past I’ve always checked in with the Cameron Clan, which is supposedly my clan by virtue of “Taylor” being a sept of that group. However, the last time I was here they were no-shows, and this year there was also no one from the Camerons. I have no clue why.

What I discovered was that I could claim kinship with probably a dozen of the different clans through other ancestor surnames. For example, courtesy of my great-grandfather Nathaniel Calloway Todd, I could claim membership in either the Gordon or McTavish Clan. Other family surnames put us with the McGregor, Lamont, and McPherson Clans.

At 11:30 on the main field there was a Memorial Day tribute to Armed Forces, complete with paratroopers and mass pipe bands. There was also a flyover featuring vintage WWII aircraft, once in a delta formation and then in the “Missing Man” formation.

After the salute the games began again. I watched a couple of caber tosses, but didn’t stick around.

It’s been 30 years since I’ve been to Scotland. I ate some weird things – blood sausage, strange hamburgers, etc., but I never tried any haggis. I decided to give it a shot today. I found a vendor that didn’t look too crowded and got a haggis pocket. It was…interesting. I don’t think it will be one of my favorites, but at least I didn’t wretch.

I actually had that before the military tribute. Afterwards I was still in the mood for something, so I found another vendor and got a sampler plate that had Scottish BBQ (pulled pork that seemed no different from what we have around here), shepherd’s pie, and haggis. By itself the haggis wasn’t so great, but it was OK when mixed with the other two.

Finally I got around to the music. I entered the tent as the band Cleghorn was getting started. Basically it was a heavy metal band with bagpipes and fiddle. The standard uniform seemed to be black tank top and kilt – for band members and groupies alike. And, yes, there were groupies.

I had a beer and listened to them for awhile. Crowds under the tent began to gather. After a brief break the group Barleyjuice came on stage. This was an odd line-up featuring bagpipes and three drums. Yeah, they also wore black tank tops and kilts.

I have to confess. I was disappointed in the music, and tired of the self-absorbed theatrics quickly. It all seemed over the top. I guess I was hoping for something more along the lines of what I’d heard in the pubs in Ireland. The musicians were quite talented, no doubt. It just took on an air of staged silliness that wore thin very quickly.

Back in our early years together Laura and I attended the Black Mountain Music Festival. The featured group was Rare Aire, and they struck us the same way – over the top and full of self-importance. The other close analogy is from the movie Serendipity, and the character played by John Corbett – the shanai-playing new age musician. Ugh.

Oh well…

I decided that the Celtic Happy Hour would just be more of the same, and that I’d probably had enough. I called it a day and headed on home.

I enjoyed the Scottish Games, and will probably be back in the parade next time we can join them, and will probably be back to listen to more music. It’s just that a little can go a long way. So in 2019 when we’re back in town, I might have recovered enough to enjoy it again.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2rKxR6v via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes