if you seek you shall find

On the authority of Abu Abbas Abdullah bin Abbas (may Allah be pleased with him) who said:

One day I was behind the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) [riding on the same mount] and he said,

“O young man, I shall teach you some words [of advice]: Be mindful of Allah and Allah will protect you. Be mindful of Allah and you will find Him in front of you. If you ask, then ask Allah [alone]; and if you seek help, then seek help from Allah [alone]. And know that if the nation were to gather together to benefit you with anything, they would not benefit you except with what Allah had already prescribed for you. And if they were to gather together to harm you with anything, they would not harm you except with what Allah had already prescribed against you. The pens have been lifted and the pages have dried.”

“The secret of getting ahead is getting started.” – Mark Twain

“Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking.” – William Butler Yeats

“It always seems impossible until it’s done.” – Nelson Mandela

“The best way for you to predict your future is to create it.” – Abraham Lincoln

“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” – Confucius

“Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.” – Thomas Edison

“Don’t watch the clock; do what it does. Keep going.” – Sam Levenson

“What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.” – Zig Ziglar

“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” – Benjamin Franklin

“I am not afraid…I was born to do this.” – Joan of Arc

“The most effective way to do it, is to do it.” – Amelia Earhart

“We aim above the mark to hit the mark.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.” – Helen Keller

“The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.“ – Walt Disney

“Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do.” – Pope John XXIII

“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” – Arthur Ashe

“When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on.” – Franklin D. Roosevelt

“What you do today can improve all your tomorrows.” – Ralph Marston

“Perserverance is failing 19 times and succeeding the 20th.” – Julie Andrews

“The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph.” – Thomas Paine

“I attribute my success to this–I never gave or took any excuse.” – Florence Nightingale

“Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do.” – Johann Wolfgang van Goethe

“Who seeks shall find.” – Sophocles

“Change your life today. Don’t gamble on the future, act now, without delay.” – Simone de Beauvoir

See Part 2 for more motivation.

Masterlist (This thing is getting long. wtf do i do)

Steve Rogers

Aw Hell No
Is This A Test?
The Scent
The Scent pt 2
I Hope You Remember Me
I Hope You Remember Me 2
Seek and You Shall Find
Pizza Anyone?
Bloodless pt 2
Out of Breath
A Simple Touch
Daddy’s Little Patriot
Hey Good Lookin
Hey Good Lookin pt 2
Socially Awkward, Awkwardly Strange
No Matter What
To Dream in Black And White
Star Spangled
How Much
Angels Fall Sometimes
Asgardian Love
Jealousy Is the Key
Hakuna Matata
Tied Up In Knots
Strongest Wolf
This Means War, Soulmate
Seen It In Color
Seen It In Color pt 2
These Scars Won’t Last Forever
Left Hand, Red
Yes, Your Highness
Hole In One

Johnny Storm

Cutie Patootie
Hello Little Flame
Hello Little Flame pt 2
Hello Little Flame pt 3
Hello Little Flame pt 4
Fly With Me
Grind On Me
Thanks Sharky
Greater Than Man
Drive By
What Kind Of Question Is That?
Hey Baby
Give Me The Thing That I Love

Curtis Everett

Cheer Up

Nick Gant

The Waiting One

Chris Evans

I’ve Got A Secret
Goo or Gaa
Whatever Comes To Mind
I Got You
Wait What?
Come Over Here and Make Me
Family Tree
This Gap Between Us
I Knew It!!!
Just A Kiss
What We Fight For
Do It Again
Turn Me In
Off Limits
Just To Hear Your Heart Beat
To Leave A Message
Oh Dear
Fountain of Love
All By My Lonesome
Iron Man All The Way
Makin Movies
Flight 268
It’s Gotta Go
Prank Master
Fear the Beard
These Hands of Mine
Wise Guy
Preference: Dating
Premier Night Plans
Such A Pain with Rain
It’s Not Funny, Chris!
Super Soldiers Really Can Get Sick
What A Beautiful Picture You Paint
How’s That Presentation Going For Ya?
You Found Me
When the Clock Starts Ticking
Happy to the Birthday
It’s A Spectacular Show, Trust Me
The Oscar For Best Fight Goes To…
Diving Boards Are Evil
When We Have Bad Days
The Icing On The Cake

Chris Evans - Sebastian Stan

Sweet Temptations
Sweet Temptations pt 2
Oh Butler!
Slice of Heaven
The Bees Knees

Steve Rogers - Bucky Barnes

Mother Nature, Shut Up
I’m Flufftastic
Bring Me Back To Yesterday
Uptown Funk You Up
Don’t It Feel Good?

Bucky Barnes

Taste The Flesh
Enjoy The Ride
Birthday Boy
Paper Toy
At The Tone
At The Tone pt 2
Sugar Sweet
Picture This
Won’t Go Home Without You
Nobody Gets Left Behind
Nobody Gets Left Behind pt 2
The Frustration of A Fanfic Writer
Doctor, Oh Doctor
Your Shadow
Your Shadow pt 2
Your Shadow pt 3
Your Shadow pt 4
Your Shadow (Final)
College Would Be Fun, They Said
Baby, Baby
Ms. Sassy Pants
Talking To the Moon
Disney Movie Cheer Up
Till Death Do Us Part
I’ve Seen It All
Hey Jude
Color Me Satisfied
What We Left Behind In The Past
What We Left Behind In The Past pt 2
What We Left Behind In The Past pt 3
What We Left Behind In The Past pt 4
What We Left Behind In The Past pt 5
What We Left Behind In The Past pt 6
What We Left Behind In The Past pt 7
What We Left Behind In The Past pt 8
What We Left Behind In The Past pt 9
What’s Your Number, Doll?
Menace? Menace, My Ass!
A Thousand Years From Now
Iron Giant
Small or Large?
Order In The Court
Don’t Wanna Know
Familial Love

Wade Wilson


Natasha Romanoff

Dark Reflections

Johnny Storm - Steve Rogers

She’s Mine!
You Little Prick
Left or Right
Respect the Lady
Take It From Me, Jealousy

Logan Howlett


Pietro Maximoff

Sister, Sister

Sebastian Stan

Voices In Our Head
Voices In Our Head pt 2
Baby Blues
Baby Blues pt 2
Caramel and Coffee
Takes Two
Wedding Vows
When I Broke Your Heart With Just A Kiss
In The Middle Of the Night
In The Middle Of the Night Pt 2
Fancy Seeing You Here
Shine Bright Like A Patriotic Diamond
We’re Never Going Slow
This Line Won’t End Now
Give Me That Gold
Give Me That Gold Pt 2
Fall Into These Arms of Mine
Slice of Heaven
You Didn’t See That Coming?

Jeremy Renner

This Is Mine

Avengers cast

Dimensionalist pt 2
(Rape Scene that was cut out from Dimensionalist Part Two)
Dimensionalist pt 3
Dimensionalist pt 4
Dimensionalist pt 5


Happy Birthday, Sparky
Our Best Girl

Seek, and You Shall Find: Chapter 3

I’ve been a little slow with my writing lately, but here’s chapter 3! 

*Note: The italics in quotes are meant to show the men speaking Gaelic. I didn’t want to translate incorrectly, and I wanted you guys to know what they were saying.*

Chapter 1    Chapter 2

They arrived at a crofters cottage an hour later. A dozen horses were hobbled in front; the other men were already there.

Jamie felt Claire stiffen, muscles contracting in fear. He placed a hand on her shoulder, caressing with his thumb. Calming her like a skittish horse.

“Do ye remember what I said? That I wouldna let any harm come to ye?” A sharp nod. “I dinna make promises lightly, Claire. Yer safe with me.”

As she dismounted Donas, Jamie noticed her limbs shaking with effort. She was much weaker than he first thought. He wondered when she last ate.

“Let me tie up Donas, and then we’ll go inside.” Another sharp nod, and she turned her back toward him.

For the first time since they met, Jamie saw Claire as a woman. The setting sun shone through her thin shift, clearly outlining the slim shadow underneath. A lovely nipped in waist flared out to an even lovelier round…

But, he shouldn’t be thinking of her this way. She was injured, frightened, and he was her protector. He turned his head, guilty.

“Mistress? Could ye come here for a moment?” She did, grass crunching beneath her bare feet. Jamie shrugged out of his coat, and handed it to her. “Here. Put this on.”

Claire cleared her throat, still swollen and raspy. “W…why?”

“I promise ye that men willna hurt ye. But I canna promise that they willna look.”

She looked down, as if she had just noticed her undress. And perhaps she had. Being in her state, Jamie thought clothing was probably the least of her worries.

She slipped into the coat, and it practically consumed her. The sleeves too long for her arms, the hem came to her knees. But it covered her, and the woolen garment would keep her warm.

“Are ye ready, Mistress?”


Jamie led Claire into the cottage, keeping her behind him. He wasn’t worried; he knew the men wouldn’t hurt her. It was mainly for her, to give her peace of mind.

Jamie!” He recognized Rupert’s boisterous voice in the dim lighting. “We were worried the English got ye! Thank God! We dinna ken…” He paused, seeing Jamie’s shadow.

Every man glanced their way simultaneously, it seemed. It would have been comical in any other situation. As it were…

What have ye got there, lad?” His uncle, Dougal, came forth into the firelight. His eyes were pale and calculating, the lewd possibilities of Jamie’s meeting with this half-dressed woman flashed behind them.

“This is Claire. I found her.”

“Ye found her?”

“Aye. Randall had her. Tied up and beaten.”

“Randall! Christ, and what did he say when he saw you?” Jamie knew what Dougal was insinuating. That he was reckless, stupid. That Randall knew he was alive now, and would hunt him to the edge of the world. And all for what? A girl?

“Nothing. I ran him through.” A short ‘whoop’ came from the dark corner Rupert faded into.

“Ye killed Randall?” This was Murtagh, his usual monotone voice sparking with interest.

“Aye, I did.”

Murmurs waves across the room, all favorable. But, Dougal wasn’t having any of it. “Now we’ll have the whole British army after you! After us!”

“No one saw, Uncle.

“And how do ye ken this woman wasn’t…wasn’t planted there to tug at yer tender heart? Ye know nothing about her!”

“Are her bruises deception as well? Or has she-”

“We canna trust her! She’s could be a spy! Did ye ever think about that, ye idiot?!”

“I dinna-”

“Excuse me.” The raspy voice broke through, distracting with its staccato Gaelic. “I mean no harm. You can trust me.”  

The men were taken aback by this small English woman, speaking to them in their own language. No secrets, then.

“Claire.” Jamie leaned backward, speaking to her in an aside. “I didna ken ye spoke Gaelic.”

“I…I’ve lived in Scotland most of my l…life,” she explained. Turning to the men: “Please. I j…just want a safe place to stay.”

Dougal’s eyes narrowed, wariness apparent. He wouldn’t believe this strange woman so easily. Jamie knew that from the start. But, he didn’t put too much weight in what his uncle thought. “Fine. She’ll come with us, and we’ll puzzle it out later.” He leaned in, inches from Claire’s face. “But, I dinna trust ye. One wrong move, and my dagger might just slip…”

She raised her eyebrows, daring him. But, Jamie saw the slight tremble of her hands.


They all agreed to stay in the cottage until nightfall. Until then, the men seemed happy enough to munch on stale bannocks and warm whiskey.

Claire had wedged herself in between Jamie and Murtagh on the splintered floorboards. She took quick nibbles of her bannock, much like an overly large squirrel.

“D’ye want mine?” Jamie reached over to hand his own dry bread to her, but she pushed it away. “Come, Mistress. Ye need it more than I do.”

She looked down, her bannock mostly eaten. Sighing, she relented. “H…half. You need some t…too.”

“Fine. Half.” He broke it in two, making sure to give her the larger portion.The three of them listened quietly to the other men, regaling the tales of the redcoats they bested.


“Christ!” Angus, though small in stature, had fallen to the ground loudly, holding his leg. Most men started at the sound, and began crowding him in curiosity. 

Rupert stepped over to him. “What happened?”

“Damn English shite knocked me off my horse earlier. I didna think much about it then.”

“Did ye at least get him back?” Rupert asked, eyes twinkling.

A toothless grin spread across Angus’ face. “Aye.” He gasped again, his grip on his leg tightening.

Jamie glanced to his left, opening his mouth to speak to Claire. But, she wasn’t there.

She had crept over to the commotion in the middle of the cottage. Kneeling in front of Angus, she spoke soothingly. “Let m…me see.”

Angus, surprisingly, was speechless. He did not argue. Instead, he held out his injured leg to her.

She grasped it, feeling around. “It’s n…not broken. Your knee is out of p…place. If someone steadies him, I c…can fix it.” When there was no response, she looked around at the men. “Now.” Rupert, ever the friend, grabbed Angus by the torso, holding him.

“This w…will hurt.” A twist and a push, and with a pop, Angus’ leg was back in place.

Dougal caught Jamie’s eye, giving him a self-satisfied smirk.  I told you so, it said.

And he was right. There was more to this woman than Jamie first thought.

Royalty Starters

“Your Grace, a petitioner has come to see you.”

“My sword, my arm, my life, I pledge to you, my king/queen.”

“The beast has demanded the princess as tribute.”


“I will fight your champion!”

“Your highness, your father/mother is dead. You are now King/Queen.”

“You have been charged with High Treason against the Crown. How do you plead?”

“I find you all guilty of High Treason against the Crown!”

“What punishment does Your Grace see fit to give such a low creature?”

“That boy/girl there is a false heir. I am the True Prince/Princess!”

“I seek your hand in marriage, my lord/lady.”

“Shall I make the engagement arrangements, Your Majesty?”

“The prince/princess has run away with a stablehand! I’m gathering a force to bring him/her back.”

“This war has lasted too long. May we find peace between us?”

“There will never be peace so long as that fat king rules!”

“The enemy has invaded the western half of the kingdom, and the wild tribes of the south are rising up. What are we to do, Your Majesty?”

“The heir is born!”

“The heir has died!”

“The prince/princess is excelling in their lessons, Your Grace. You must be proud.”

“The princess has taken an interest in swordplay. What do you say of this, Your Grace?”

“The prince/princess has taken an interest in magic. What do you say of this, Your Grace?”

“Have you heard the news about the Prince and that floozy of a maid?”

“I heard the King is having an affair.”

“Everyone knows the King/Queen is sleeping with the court fool, give me some new news!”

“All hail King/Queen ___! Long live the King/Queen!”

anonymous asked:

Tell me I'm not the only one who hates Chennai Express. On top of all the offensive stuff they've used Kerala aesthetics all over a movie set in Tamilnadu. South India is just one big stereotype to bollywood.

You and 95% of all South Indians, my friend- myself included. The internalised racism is strong in Rohit Shi/etty I assure you. As far as Bollywood is concerned everything below the border of Maharashtra is just one big cultural clump. I guess that’s part of the reason (another being the ridiculing of the culture of said clump) as to why so many South Indians seem dissatisfied with mainstream Bollywood nowadays- again, myself included. But we’ll just keep powering on regardless of what they think of us. 

Seek, and You Shall Find: Chapter 2

A little later than I hoped, but here’s chapter 2!!

Chapter 1

The woman’s shaky ‘trust’ in Jamie became immediately evident as they continued to ride. Slowly, slowly her head began to fall backward, resting on his shoulder. Her soft snores echoed in his ear against the strong breeze.

The need to protect something so defenseless strengthened. Jamie pulled her closer with his free hand, careful not to irritate any possible injuries on her torso. 

It was strange, this protectiveness. He had felt it before of course; for his sister, his family, sometimes even the horses. But, never for a stranger.

Perhaps he felt a kinship with her, both having been on the sharp end of Black Jack Randall’s sickness.

Perhaps…perhaps he wished someone would have protected him.


Jamie rode hard, eager to be away from Redcoats and kinsmen alike. He needed to speak to this woman before effectively handing her over to the MacKenzies. However, she still slept peacefully on his shoulder, despite the roughness of the ride.

They would have to stop soon to water Donas. And then…then they would talk.


Jamie heard the bubbling of a nearby creek. Pulling the reigns, he steered Donas toward the sound.

“Mistress? Mistress?” He shook the woman gently, trying to wake her from her rest.

She started, then, head popping quickly in the air, a hairsbreadth from knocking Jamie’s teeth in. She began to struggle, catching herself just in time before toppling off the horse.

“Mistress, mistress. It’s me, remember? From the creek?” She whipped her head back to glance at him over her shoulder. She had a proud profile, and Jamie thought that perhaps she was lovely underneath her bruises. “I’ve got to water the horse. I thought… perhaps we could talk.”

She stared at him, judging, contemplating. Her eyes looked him up and down. The were honey, he noticed, but not sweet. Shrewd. Intelligent. Wary.

And can ye blame her?

Her head bobbed once, a quick nod of acquiescence.


Jamie hobbled the horse, letting him graze gently on the fertile land surrounding the creek. He didn’t tear his eyes away from the woman, however. She had wandered to the water’s edge to carefully wash her damaged skin.

Once Donas was settled and munching happily, Jamie walked to her, slowly as to not startle her again. He dropped down on the bank as well, careful to give her space. She didn’t look at him when he sat, though. Her eyes were transfixed on the rippling current before her. He knew she didn’t truly trust him, that her faith in him came from the fact he was the lesser evil of two men. But, it was just the two of them for the moment, and he hoped to gain her favor. He wanted to help.

“My name is Jamie.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but did not face him. The same cold shrewdness was still hidden in those depths. “What’s yours?”

He watched her throat bob, working against the bruising and swelling that hindered her voice. Finally, a quiet rasp: “C…Claire.”

“Weel, Claire. How did ye find yerself here?”

She scoffed, and finally turned to face him. In another whispering croak, “Long st…story.”

“Aye, alright. Later then.” She turned away from him, clearly not looking forward to the prospect of ‘later.’ “Listen, I ken ye dinna know me, and my word means nothing to ye. But, I promise to keep ye safe.”

“D…Don’t lie. You don’t kn…know me.”

“That’s true. But, I know Randall. Knew Randall,” he amended. “Whatever ye did…ye didna deserve that bastard’s ire.”

Jamie watched Claire’s throat move again, straining. “You don’t know th…that.”

“A truly evil person does no fear, for he has nothing to lose. And ye were frightened, I saw yer face. Am I wrong?” No response, but a small shrug. “I didna think so.”

“I… I didn’t do anything. I’m not a c… criminal.” She was looking straight at him then, eyes still wary but sincere.

“No, I didna think ye were. But, we’re at the mercy of the powerful, are we no? Their truth and the actual truth can sometimes differ.”

Another small shrug. Then a nod.

They sat in quietly, the bubbling water loud against the uncomfortable silence. Both of them contemplated Jamie’s words, feeling them weigh on their shoulders for they had both been at the mercy of someone else’s truth.

Donas stamped his feet impatiently, breaking the semi-tranquility.

“We’d better go.” Claire was startled by his voice, tensing slightly. “I’m sorry, I didna mean to…”

She waved him off. “Wh… where are we going?”

“Weel, we’ll be heading to Castle Leoch. But first we must meet up with the other men.”

“Other men?” For the first time since Jamie rescued her, Claire looked truly afraid of him.

“They’ll no hurt ye. I’ll make sure of it.” He could tell she didn’t believe him. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Ye think I’m lying?”

“N… no. Just don’t m… make promise you c… can’t keep.”

“Dinna worry. I won’t. Come.” He held out his hand to help her. She was still weak from her injuries, and the lack of food and doctoring wasn’t helping her.

“Y… you said earlier you kn… knew Randall. How?”

He thought she had put it perfectly earlier. “It’s a long story. Come on, we have a long way to go.”

OneRepublic sentences

Something I Need

  • “I had a dream the other night about how we only get one life.”
  • “I had the week that came from hell.”
  • “You got something I need.”
  • “In this world full of people, there’s one killing me.”
  • “If you only die once, I want to die with you.”
  • “Last night I thik I drank too much.”
  • “If we got nothing, we got us.”
  • “I know that we’re not the same.”
  • “I’m so damn glad we made it to this time.”
  • “If we only live once, I want to live with you.”

Counting Stars

  • “Lately I’ve been losing sleep, dreaming about the things that we could be.”
  • “Swing my heart across the line.”
  • “Seek it out and ye shall find.”
  • “Old, but I’m not that old.”
  • “Young, but I’m not that bold.”
  • “I feel something so right doing the wrong thing.”
  • “Everything that kills me makes me feel alive.”
  • “I feel the love and feel it burn.”
  • “Hope is our four letter word.”
  • “I don’t think the world is sold and just doing what we’re told.”
  • “I feel something so wrong doing the right thing.”
  • “Everything that drowns me makes me want to fly.”
  • “Take that money watch it burn.”
  • “Sink into the river the lessons I learned.”

Love Runs Out

  • “I’ll be your light, your match, your burning sun.”
  • “We’ll feel alright ‘cause we’ll work it out.”
  • “I’ll be your ghost, your game, your stadium.”
  • “I’ll be doing this, if you ever doubt, until the love runs out.”
  • “I’ve got my mind made up and I can’t let go.”
  • “Got an angel on my shoulder, and Mephistopheles “
  • “Momma said ‘do what you want, say your prayers at night.’”
  • “I’m so devout.”
  • “I’m killing every second until it sees my soul.”
  • “We all want the same thing.”
  • “We all run for something.”


  • “I need another story, something to get off my chest.”
  • “Need something that I can confess until my sleeves are stained red from all the truth that I’ve shed.”
  • “I’ve been on the brink.”
  • “Tell me what you want to hear.”
  • “I’m gonna give all my secrets away.”
  • “Amazing how we got this far, it’s like we’re chasing all those stars.”
  • “I don’t really like my flow.”
  • “Sick of all the insincere.”
  • “This time, don’t need another perfect lie.”
  • “Got no reason, got no shame.”
  • “Got no family I can’t blame.”
  • “Just don’t let me disappear.”
  • “I’mma tell you everything.”
  • “Don’t care if critics ever jump in line.”

I Lived

  • “Hope when you take that jump you don’t fear the fall.”
  • “Hope when the water rises, you built a wall.”
  • “Hope if everybody runs, you choose to stay.”
  • “Hope that you fall in love and it hurts so bad.”
  • “Hope that you don’t suffer but take the pain.”
  • “Hope when the moment comes you’ll say I did it all.”
  • “I owned every second that this world could give.”
  • “With every broken bone, I swear I lived.”
  • “Hope that you spend your days but they all add up.”
  • “Hope that when the sun goes down, you raise your glass.”
  • “I wish I could witness all your joy and all your pain.”
  • “I did it all.”

Feel Again

  • “I’ve been everywhere and back trying to replace everything that I’ve had ‘til my feel went numb.”
  • “Heart still beating but it’s not working.”
  • “I reach out trying to love but I feel nothing.”
  • “It’s been a long time coming since I’ve seen your face.”
  • “I’ve been everywhere and back trying to replace everything that I’ve broke ‘til my feet went numb.”
  • “But with you I feel again.”
  • “I’m feeling better ever since you’ve known me.”
  • “I was a lonely soul but that’s the old me.”
  • “A little wiser now from what you showed me.”

All The Right Moves

  • “We’re going down.”
  • “They’ve got it better than anyone’s told ya.”
  • “I’ll be the King of Heart, you’ll be the Queen of Spade.”
  • “We’ll fight for you like we were your soldiers.”
  • “I know we got it good.”
  • “The grass is looking greener each day.”
  • “I know things are looking up, but soon they’ll take us down before anyone’s knowing our names.”
  • “All the right friends in all the right places.”
  • “All the right moves in all the right places.”
  • “Everybody knows where we’re going.”
  • “Do you think I’m special?”
  • “Do you think I’m nice?””
  • “It can’t be possible that rain can fall only when it’s over our heads.”
  • “The sun is shining everyday but it’s so far away.”
  • “It don’t matter what you see, I know I could never be someone that’ll look like you.”
  • “It don’t matter what you say, I know I could never face someone that sounds like you.”
Lana Del Rey on Religion

“My understanding of God has come from my own personal experiences… because I was in trouble so many times in New York that if you were me, you would believe in God too. When things get bad enough, your only resort is to lie in bed and start praying. I dunno about congregating once a week in a church and all that, but when I heard there is a divine power you can call on, I did.“ 

“Well, I mixed it with my studies in theology, because it was the best school for the Jesuit faith and all of the Jesuits taught philosophy classes. There was just a lot of talk about going back to that basic question: Why do we exist? How did reality come to be? Why do we do what we do? And how not to become the butcher, the baker, the candlestickmaker, the guardians of the middle-class—that really interested me. I don’t know. Yeah, I loved being around people who wondered why we were here.”

“I guess I would say that the beautiful thing about feeling connected to something greater is that even at my lowest point I always have a feeling that I’m being taken care of. “

“And Jesus—I mean, being raised Catholic, it was just a way of life. Spirituality and religion were strong. I was in Catholic school until I was 13. Like a lot of other people, I think foundationally I was hymn inspired—musical hymns, not Him, Jesus. [Laughs.]”

“Like so many people, they always state the difference between faith and religion. The faith that I’ve come to find is a science of my own through lots of trials and errors. I’ve been through so many different walks of life that I’ve needed to ask a lot of questions that no human power can answer. I’ve had to seek a lot of guidance. I’ve had to pray a lot because I’ve been in trouble a lot. But it’s not until you do that that you realize there are answers out there to be found.”

To thine own self be true. Seek and ye shall find. There’s a science to prayer, I would say. I think sometimes when you’re really faced with a huge life dilemma or problem and you’ve turned to every sort of thing for answers, sometimes the last resort is to pray and to put out a question to the universe in your mind. Even when you put your question out there, you ask that invisible whoever “What do I do?” you sort of get answers; you forget the problem all over again.”

“I went to a Catholic school called St. Agnes and I loved going to church. I was very interesting and curious about the idea of a divine plan and that there was something bigger than us out there. I don’t have a traditional Catholic view of religion or God though – but I enjoy the feeling of being looked after in the spiritual sense.”

She attended a Catholic elementary school called St. Agnes, and was the cantor of the church across the street. “I loved church,” says Del Rey. “I loved the mysticism, the idea of something bigger, the idea of a divine plan. For me, the concept of religion transitioned into a really healthy idea of God–I don’t have the traditional views of a conservative Catholic, but my imagination was opened within the big blue-and-gold cathedral walls. I liked the idea of being looked after.”

I would say, ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen.’ She’d say, ‘God didn’t save you from drowning just to beat you up on the shore. All you really need is patience when you have persistence.”

“I feel a strong relationship with God and I feel my ties are with him. That’s how I honestly feel. Everything I do, I do it for somebody I’ve never met before, something in the great beyond. That’s my primary relationship, really, is with something divine. I feel a connection as real with that as I’ve ever had with anybody on this earth.”

“There’s one song called “God Knows I Tried” which has a little gospel feel to it.”

anonymous asked:

I finally watched baahubali 2. I cant rn. I cried like there was no tomorrow!


Why People Mistype Characters

(Gif: Kenzi, Lost Girl. ENFP.)

I mistype sometimes. It happens. When I discover it, I own it. And I’m going to tell you why… and maybe cast some light on why other mistypes happen.

Sensor Bias: Sensors can become adept typists, but they must first learn the details of typology and then access their intuition, in order to recognize the bigger picture in addition to the details. Sensors sometimes mistype characters by focusing too much on minor details that are inconsistent with the big picture.

Intuitive Bias: Intuitives can become adept typists, but they must first learn the theory of typology in detail, rather than skim-read a handful of descriptions and then use their “intuition” to assume they know theory better than they do; often, intuitives rush to start typing characters, but lack the study / knowledge to be accurate. The Ni’s “fill in the gaps” with their OWN theories on typology (or their impression of the functions), and neglect information that counter-acts their wrong perception (low Se); Ne’s can lose touch with their knowledge, or fill in the blanks with abstraction projections that are not realistic to the character (low Si). They neglect the details.

Some things that cause character mistypes:

Preconceptions: You find what you are looking for. If you go in looking for an intuitive, you can read intuition where it does not exist. This is how a lot of ESFP characters wind up mistyped as ENFPs. What you seek, you shall find.

Rapid First Impressions: You see a character, they act a certain way, you assume they are a type other than they are, and ignore subsequent evidence to the contrary, since you’re viewing them through a type lens and ignoring any contradictory evidence. This perception may even be based on a stereotype: oh, they are flighty and fall in love with two men at once and buck the system and say they don’t care what people think! ESFP! … and yet she goes on to talk in depth about her feelings to everyone and isn’t really that radical with the environment (Se) so much as she pursues external ideas (Ne). ESFJ. Oops.

Carried Over Assumptions: Or as I fondly call it, sheer laziness. This character was an ENTJ in the original, he’s an ENTJ here! Except he’s an ESFP this time, since the writers are new and reinvented him. Woops!

Typing From Memory: This works for sensors with a sharp memory for details and a complete knowledge of typology; for high Ne’s? Nope. Bad idea. Your detail retention is BAD. Your intuition is HIGH. You will not remember the character accurately, you will read into their motives, you will twist them to suit the type, instead of basing the type on the character. (Learned this the hard way. Boo. Hiss.) Wanna get it right? Revisit the character. Reread the book. Watch the movie. Hit the strongest episodes. Forget the type you assumed they were. Go in with an open mind.

Assuming They’re an Intuitive: If you are typing every single character an intuitive, or five out of seven characters an intuitive, you’re probably mistyping a lot of characters. Learn the value of sensors. Learn how sensors work. Look for sensors. In fact, assume everyone is a sensor until their intuition slaps you so hard across the face, your neck cracks.

Lack of Comparisons: Establish a solid baseline character for each type that you use for comparisons. When you are stuck, ask yourself, does this character think in the same way as the baseline character? If not, try a different type. Do a different comparison.

Own It: You were wrong. That’s life. The fact that you changed your mind means you’ve learned more than you knew before. You’re better this time. Don’t dismiss people’s arguments out of hand; listen to them. Learn from them. They see something you do not. They may be wrong. They may be right. But read every contradictory argument. Debate type. Consult others you respect if you’re stuck. This is a learning experience. And it takes time.

Be cool, peeps.

- ENFP Mod

Neverland’s Queen

A one-shot based off of the song Going to California by Led Zeppelin? Like the lyrics are a prophecy that Peter goes out to fulfill? “Someone told me there’s a girl out there, with love in her eyes and a flower in her hair. (..) She is red when skies are grey. (..) They say she plays guitar and cries, and sings…” ^Prophecy idk. So Peter goes to find this dream girl or whatever and finds it she doesn’t really exist. He comes back to Neverland where the reader is staying, and realizes that SHE is his dream girl. Idk the whole request is a mess:)

warnings: slight swearing, also i loooove this request. it’s detailed and different so i really went all out
1990 words

“There’s a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
When the sea burns red and the sky stains grey,
And the mountains and canyons then tremble and shake
As the children of the sun begin to awake,

You will find a queen without a king.
She plays a song and cries and sings.
She rides a white mare in the footsteps of dawn.
She is a woman who’s been never born.”

Peter Pan gawked at the mermaid, stunned by her sung prophecy. He never had any use of the Seer of the Sea, until recently, when he had grown restless of his lonely life, and so had come to the Lagoon seeking out the maid who gave oracles to those who could capture her. The King of Neverland was tired of a solitary reign. He needed someone to rule beside him, someone who could love and protect the island just as he did. There were his Lost Boys, of course, and they were fiercely loyal and true of heart, but he couldn’t very well make any of them his queen.

There was you, however. A girl fiercer than any of his boys, and much prettier, Peter mentally added. Of course, he would never tell you that. You infuriated his entire being. Truly, it was a miracle that Pan restrained himself from begging the Shadow to take you back. He loathed you. He loathed your snark, your quick witted remarks shutting down his attempts at annoying you, he loathed your sweet laughter when you could convince the boys to tease him too, and he especially loathed the gentle curve of your lips when you smirked at him, absolutely plump and delic- NO.

Peter forced a heavy wall down onto those thoughts. Now was not the time to be thinking about your infuriating lips. He needed to find his queen. “Where is she?” Peter boomed at the mermaid, and it was not so much a question as a command to tell him of the prophesied girl’s whereabouts. The oracle merely smiled knowingly, and began to float away. “Wait!” His voice was desperate, and the maid, sensing this, turned around slowly in the water, silver hair shimmering with the last of the sunset’s light.

“The girl you seek is from the place without magic.
And you shall soon find her surrounded by manic
But search well, dear King, and keep sharp your sight.
You may only find her until the break of first light.”

It took seconds to comprehend her second riddle, but Pan was quick, and shortly exasperated then after. Until the break of first light. Sunrise. “I only have sunrise to find her?”

“Cherish my gift of foretelling.
Do not be led astray.
My words’ magic, it shall run out
At the first light of the day.”

With a flick of her brilliant indigo tail, the mermaid was gone, and Peter was left alone with little time and a prophecy.

… … …

Night had finally fallen, and Peter strode into camp, headed straight for Felix. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he saw you atop the boy’s shoulders. Laughing, as his second in command paraded you around. Blushing, as Felix cracked a joke about you being the queen of Neverland. Stroking, your fingers idly gripping the boy’s blond locks, and Peter’s own hands clenched at the display before him. Felix was clad in a white shirt tonight, a contrast to his usual earth-toned raiments, but the Lost Children had planned a special feast this evening, and it seemed he dressed up for the occasion. Dressed up for you. As Peter’s right-hand boy spun you, forcing sweet laughter from your lips, the King decided he had had enough of his horsing around.

“Felix,” he barked, not wasting any time as the moon rose into the sky. “I’m leaving the island for a little trip. You’re in charge,” Peter said, turning away from the sight of you together. He halted when your voice rang from the other side of camp.

“Finally tired of us, Pan?” You slipped off from Felix’s shoulders, eager to goad the clearly agitated leader. You couldn’t miss an opportunity to push his buttons. “I thought I’d never see the day you’d abandon us. And here you are, leaving us defenseless without a leader to protect us.”

“You’re damn well aware that you’re more than capable of protecting yourself, (Y/N).” Peter’s sharp response surprised you both. That almost sounded like… a compliment? No, it couldn’t be. You eyed him confusedly, and an unnameable tension that had been between you both for quite a few weeks now filled the air between you, humming as the Lost Boys began a bonfire far behind you.

Felix coughed from where he stood to the side, smirking at his leader with an understanding twist of his lips. Peter shot him a dirty look. It was a misfortune, he thought. That his subordinate should also be his best friend. He knew more about Peter than Peter knew about himself, and Pan hated it. He hated the knowing smirk on his subordinate’s lips. Felix did make up for though, when he cleverly dispersed the tension to save his friend from an awkward encounter. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Pan?”

The time. Peter looked up at the sky, and found the moon rising even higher into the night. “Shit,” he breathed. “I’ll be back by sunrise,” he stated, running off into the forest before flying up, up, and away to another realm. You watched him go, his beautiful form snaking throughout the trees and disappearing into the stars. Once he was out of sight, Felix whistled at you, and you grinned at your friend, hopping onto his back as he made his way to the feast.

… … …

Nothing. He had found fucking nothing these past few hours. Peter racked his mind for the bits and pieces of the prophecy he still retained. What had it all meant?

When the sea burns red.
She rides a white mare.
A woman who’s been never born.

How would the sea ever burn? Which white mare was it? If the girl he was searching for had never been born, what the hell was he doing looking for her? The oracle’s words swum in fragments in his mind.

Peter had searched all over the land without magic, flying over red waves of rock in a desert, searching through grey storms in chilly towns, and ending up in various pubs and bars, trying to find his prophesied queen. His equal. He did come across many beautiful girls where he searched, and they all took an interest in him, but he knew in his heart that they were not the one he had been looking for.

Everything about them was wrong. Their hair was wrong, their too-sweet words whispered into his ear were wrong, and even their lips were wrong, the slope of them not at all right. The feel of the girls was foreign, and unfamiliar. The moon hung low in the sky now, and Peter Pan had lost faith in finding someone who would fill the barren void in his heart. With a reluctant sigh, the King decided that there was no such queen for him, and with a crumbling heart, he flew home.

… … …

Peter made it back, unnerved by the fact that the Lost Boys were still dancing. He caught sight of you.

There’s a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
When the sea burns red and the sky stains grey,

He saw the crown of poppies and other wildflowers adorning your head, and something tugged at the back of Peter’s mind. The moon was gone now, and a sliver of the sun’s fire was rising from the horizon, turning the ocean into a sea of red. Grey fog lined the skies.

And the mountains and canyons then tremble and shake
As the children of the sun begin to awake,

The Lost Boys continued to dance around of the fire, its flames mimicking those of the sun. It seemed as if the boys’ stomping quaked the very earth beneath them. The sun began to peek out from beyond the sea, driving the boys even wilder.

You will find a queen without a king.
She plays a song and she cries and she sings.

Your flower crown was beautiful upon you, Peter thought, the various shades of the petals bringing out the glow in your face, the mirth in your features. You sang a tune as the boys stepped in time, the beat never faltering.

She rides a white mare in the footsteps of dawn.

Peter took notice of your position on Felix’s broad shoulders, and his eyes widened as he realized his second-in-command had played as your steed for the night .

She is a woman who’s been never born.

Peter staggered backwards. The mermaid didn’t mean that the girl had not been born yet. She had been never born. Never born. Neverborn.

It was you, he realized. His queen, adorned with a crown and steed to match. You were an ordinary girl back where you had come from, but when the Shadow brought you here, oh, how stupid of him not to realize! Peter stared at you in awe. Once you were brought to Neverland, you were reborn as a Lost Girl. A queen. His queen. And the King had come to claim you.

“Peter!” You slipped off Felix as you caught sight of the green-eyed boy, eager to give another jab at his ego. He stalked towards you, a determined look on his face, and you smirked, ready to let the banter begin. “How kind of the King to return to his people,” you remarked, Peter walking faster towards you. “I was beginning to think-” You actually had no time to think, or to even finish your sentence, for that matter, because as soon as he had strided close enough, the King of Neverland pulled you in by the waist for the most breathtaking kiss.

… … …

It was quiet. The camp was quiet.

The fire was quiet.

The forest was quiet.

Hell, even the boys were quiet. Silence had swept over the island in a single breath as Peter Pan crashed his lips to yours. His mouth danced along your own, and you couldn’t comprehend how long it was the pair of you stood there in the middle of camp, your hands rested on his chest as his hands caressed your hips, all while you returned his fervent motions. You came up for breath, and peered up at him.

You tried to think of something, anything to say. At this point, you couldn’t care less if it was witty or not. You just needed to know…

“Why?” It was the least you could say, and you hoped it conveyed everything you wished to ask. Why was he kissing you? Why did it feel so right? Why you?

“Because you’re my queen,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. And although you were unaware of most of the meaning, somehow, you understood what he meant. You understood the meaning of the tension that had been building up between you two, the meaning of his playful teasing, and the meaning of the words he spoke now. You smiled up at Peter, at your King, and leaned in for another kiss. He was more than happy to oblige, and the boys began hollering once again at the pair of you, Felix rolling his eyes as if to say, “About damn time.”

The magic of the island thrummed as if in understanding that its queen had been found, and somewhere beneath murky turquoise depths, a grin bloomed on the face of someone with silvery locks, who beamed up at the surface in approval before swimming away with a flick of an indigo tail.

(A/N): I fucking loved writing this, and I hope you guys enjoyed it too! 

Seek, and You Shall Find

An Outlander Fic

Jamie’s blood ran hot and cold, alternating between the ice of vengeance and the flames of anger.

The bright red of his coat was unnatural in the woods, an infection that could cause a sickness on the fertile land. Something the world should be rid of immediately.

But, Jamie considered himself an honorable man. Stubborn and passionate, but honorable. He’d never consider killing a man with his back turned.

At least, that was before Randall appeared in the clearing before him, unsuspecting and unarmed. Washing his hands in the creek.

No, it wouldn’t be right. But, the sound of shots and yells from behind created an echo in his brain: There’s a fight going on. Who would ever know it was you?

No. He would know. And could he forgive himself? Eventually. Maybe.

Jamie stretched, feeling the friction of his shirt on the long healed scars on his back. That gave him pause; another contemplation. Could he? Should he?


The wind whipped around him, and he lifted his face, nostrils flaring. He smelled the tang of blood in the trees around him, remnants from the attack. He heard the distant cries of his kinsmen, the sharp clanging of metal, a low sound from a wounded animal.

He opened his eyes, taking one last glance at Randall, and turned. A flash of white caught his eye, and made him stop.

Nestled against the rocky crag was a woman. She was roped, tied hand and foot. Bruised and beaten, he only saw glimpses of her pale skin between the purple and black spots that littered her body. She was stripped down to her shift, the flash of white that had caught his eye.

Was this Randall’s doing?

That was a stupid question. Of course it was. Randall was capable of anything, Jamie had learned quickly. Beating and binding a small woman was just one of his crimes.

Jamie’s feet were moving before his mind could catch up.Instinct. He felt much less human than he ever had, crouched and sneering. He didn’t feel the weight of the sword in his hand. He didn’t feel the earth beneath him. All thought, all energy was focused on the bright red of his target.

Muscles tensed and rebelled against the foreign object being plunged within them. But, it was too late. The sword went through Randall’s back, the tip sticking out of his heart. And he collapsed.

Jamie stared at the colorless face, black eyes stared unseeingly back. A dishonorable death. But, did he deserve any better?

Jamie had no time to ponder such inquiries. He jogged to the woman, her eyes wide and frightened. But she did not flinch when he pulled the gag out of her mouth.

“What’s yer name?” Jamie asked. She coughed and spluttered, but did not answer. He noticed her mottled throat, bruised from fingers pressed tightly against it. His face grew hot. “It’s okay. Do ye trust me?”

Her eyebrows drew together, and she shook her head. No, of course she wouldn’t.

“Aye. I suppose not. Do ye trust me more than him, though?” He motioned to the corpse by the creek. “Or any of the other soldiers about?”

She nodded without hesitation then.

“Come wi’ me.” He cut her ropes with his dirk, and lifted her into his arms.

Voice over:  Meanwhile, King Arthur and Bedevere, not more than a swallow's
             flight away, had discovered something. 
Knights of Ni: Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni! 
Arthur: Who are you? 
Knight of Ni: We are the Knights who say.....   "Ni"! 
Arthur: (horrified) No!  Not the Knights who say "Ni"! 
Knight of Ni: The same. 
Other Knight of Ni: Who are we? 
Knight of Ni: We are the keepers of the sacred words: Ni, Ping, and Nee-womm! 
Other Knight of Ni: Nee-womm! 
Arthur: (to Bedevere) Those who hear them seldom live to tell the tale! 
Knight of Ni: The knights who say "Ni" demand..... a sacrifice! 
Arthur: Knights of Ni, we are but simple travelers who seek the enchanter who 
        lives beyond these woods. 
Knights of Ni: Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni! 
Bedevere: No! Noooo!  Aaaugh!  No! 
Knight of Ni: We shall say "Ni" to you... if you do not appease us. 
Arthur: Well what is it you want? 
Knight of Ni: We want..... 
(pregnant pause) 
                             A SHRUBBERY!!!! 
(dramatic minor chord) 
Arthur: A *WHAT*? 
Knights of Ni: Ni!  Ni!!  Ni!  Ni! 
Arthur; No!  No!  Please, please, no more!  We will find you a shrubbery. 
Knight of Ni: You must return here with a shrubbery... or else you will never 
              pass through this wood...   alive. 
Arthur: O Knights of Ni, you are just and fair, and we will return with a 
Knight of Ni: One that looks nice. 
Arthur: Of course! 
Knight of Ni: And not *too* expensive. 
Arthur; Yes! 
Knight of Ni: Noowwwww.... GO! 
Arthur: O Knights of Ni.  We have brought you your shrubbery.  May we go now? 
Knight of Ni: Yes, it is a good shrubbery.  I like the laurels particularly. 
              But there is one small problem.... 
Arthur: What is that? 
Knight of Ni: We are now *no longer* the Knights Who Say "Ni"! 
Other Knights of Ni: Ni!  Shh! Shh! 
Knight of Ni: We are now the Knights who say "Ekky-ekky-ekky-ekky-z'Bang, 
              zoom-Boing, z'nourrrwringmm". 
Other Knight of Ni: Ni! 
Knight of Ni:  Therefore, we must give you a test. 
Arthur: What is this test, o Knights of..... 
        Knights who 'til recently said "Ni"? 
Knight of Ni: Firstly, you must find.... 
                      ANOTHER SHRUBBERY!!! 
(another minor chord) 
Arthur: Oh not *another* shrubbery!! 
Knight of Ni: (excitedly) THEN... Then, when you have found the shrubbery, 
              you must place it here, beside this shrubbery, only slightly 
              higher, so we get the two-level effect with a little path 
              running down the middle. 
Other Knights of Ni:  A path!  A path!  A path!   Shh, shhh.  Ni!  Ni! 
Knight of Ni: Then, when you have found the shrubbery, you must cut down the 
              mightiest tree in the forest... 
              Wiiiiiithh....  A HERRING! 
The Goddess

Candles are lit, the incantation is complete.
Incense smoke rises, fragrant and sweet.

Breathing deeply, you open your mind’s eye.
There you hear a faint whisper…A bellowing cry.

The candles’ flames dance as She draws near.
She is your Mother; there is nothing to fear.

A misty haze envelops you as She begins to gracefully manifest.
She only answers to those who are truly blessed.

Darkness wraps around Her pale and beautiful skin.
A stirring power can be felt deep from within.

A penetrating glare shoots from Her stunning eyes.
They know of your humble beginnings and your untimely demise.

Her voice is a haunting melody echoing an ancient story.
She stands before you in all of Her endless glory.  

Words cascade from Her delicate lips like a waterfall.
When She speaks, you always heed the call.

“My child, you are wise and strong.
You will find your place, where you belong.
I am with you as you grow.
I am the guiding light, a never-ending glow.
The answer you seek is deep within,
But you may call to me when the veil is thin.
If you honor my wisdom, I shall be just and kind.
Disrespect me and I will torture your fragile mind.
Your witchcraft is your vessel to me.
Use it wisely and you will unlock doors with my Key.”

She suddenly vanishes without a trace.
Your heart starts beating with a quickened pace.

Was this a dream or was this real?
Was The Goddess standing before me as I kneel?

The candles are extinguished with haste;
You cannot delay; there is no time to waste.

Remember Her voice and what She said.
She holds the secrets of those long since dead.

You sense Her as you handle a poisonous plant or cast a spell.
You can hear Her voice in the soft tolling of the copper bell.

The black dogs howl towards the cosmic sky,
They know a secret truth you cannot deny:

No matter where you go or what you do,
The Goddess will always be with you.

Originally posted by siriuskitty

Original poem by @eclecticwitcheryafoot aka Marisol.

This poem is meant to be a dedication to Hekate.  Feel free to use it as you like but please give me credit.

mother of mother sea 

we find a fallenness

where the plumes loom
late with the wolf-moon;

I seek my kind
and find none

assailed by winter-fever

no matter,

there was you, loitering
by the river

willing me to rise,

while your sisters busied
themselves with the field’s
hallowed harvest

all clad in white,

in the deep honor and stain
of being

so it happens -
who is left to carry [you]
the unholdable -

some dead thing proclaiming:
I have you               and you

I go to summer’s book,
and write of winter

of girls as sweet as briar ,
as thoughtful as  

the cursed mist shall lift and
all the beasts’ breath moan

I will ready myself,  
I will unfasten the last,

I will be good
where goodness cannot

for what else is there -

the simple bitterness
of the plea 

you never planned to 

Seek, and You Shall Find: Chapter 4

I decided to split this chapter in two, so this is just the first half :) Enjoy!

Chapter 1    Chapter 2   Chapter 3

After riding on horseback for a full day, the dull gray stones of Castle Leoch were a welcome sight. Jamie could feel every man sigh in relief as that large shadow came into view. All except one, that is.

Claire’s tension grew with each passing step. As the foggy outline of the castle sharpened, her muscles tightened under Jamie’s hands. He tried his best to soothe her without speaking– an arm around her middle, a thumb caressing her shoulder. He did not want to draw attention to themselves.

Claire had put on a brave, hardened face for the other men in the party. But, as her body weakened– from pain, from hunger, from exhaustion– so did her resolve. The fear became apparent in those tawny eyes, and her initial anger began to dissolve. She looked lost.

He only hoped that some of his own strength would seep into her. Entering a world full of strangers is no easy feat, Jamie knew. Especially for this English woman in the Scottish countryside, where all she had was that weakened brave face.


There was no grand welcome when they entered the courtyard. The few people milling about greeted them quickly before going about their business. All except one.

Mrs. Fitz was a small, plump woman with contagious energy. The keeping of the castle took stamina, which she seemed to have an endless supply of. “Yer back! Wonderful! I’m sure yer starving. Plenty of food in the kitchen.”

With a rustle of skirts, Mrs. Fitz made her rounds. With a ‘Hello,’ and a pat on the shoulder, she sent them away to eat.

Jamie wasn’t exactly sure how to explain Claire to Mrs. Fitz. He supposed the truth was his best option, but would Claire want everyone to know of her situation?

“Angus, what happened to ye?” Angus was limping, an arm slung around Rupert’s shoulder for support.

“Ach, a soldier knocked me off my horse. Dinna fash. Our traveling nurse fixed me up.” He nodded toward Claire, who was still astride Donas.

Jamie reached up to help her down, but she stiffened at the new found attention. Mrs. Fitz was staring, at a loss for words.

“Mrs. Fitz, this is Mistress Claire…” He realized for the first time that he didn’t know her last name. She never said it.

At the sound of her name, Claire relaxed, shaking herself from her thoughts. “Beauchamp,” she croaked. “Claire Beauchamp.” She then placed her hand in his, and he heaved her to the ground.

“Well, Mistress Beauchamp, this is Mistress Fitzgibbons.”

Claire inclined her head politely, and Mrs. Fitz mirrored. “Well, Claire. How about ye come with me? Ye look as if ye have some injuries that I could help he with.” She wrapped her arm around Claire, and began to lead her toward the castle.

Jamie watched as they left. Claire turned back to him, her eyes wide and fearful, before disappearing around the corner.


Jamie did not see Claire for the rest of the day. He knew she needed her sleep, more than anyone else. However, his worry did not subside.

When she didn’t appear in the hall for dinner, he sought out Mrs. Fitz.

“Mrs. Fitz!” He found her by the kitchen hearth.

“Jamie, lad!” She stretched out her arms to him, and he gladly accepted her embrace.

“Hello. Um… where is Mistress Beauchamp?”

“Mistress Beauchamp? Claire?” 


Her forehead creased. “She’s still in her room, I believe. I havena seen her since this morning.”

“Was she all right?”

The lines on her face deepened with sadness. “Aye, I suppose as well as she can be. Considering…”


“What she’s been through.”

“Did she tell ye everything?”

“Nay. But she told me enough. I’m sure she’ll be up and about tomorrow, though. Dinna fash, dear. She just needs her rest.”

Jamie nodded. His worry hadn’t abated, but he was comforted a bit by Mrs. Fitz’s presence. “Thank ye.”


Mrs. Fitz was wrong. Claire didn’t show up for breakfast the next morning.

Jamie wasn’t sure was sure what possessed him… But, he decided to go see her.

The Limerick Bard Makes a Friend

So first and foremost: Yes, this campaign is still going. Second: one of the GM’s friends joined in and rolled a paladin that is kind of like a classic samurai in attitude.

GM: [giving the rundown of the characters] He’s a druid and has a wolf as his animal companion. She’s the party rogue, formerly of the circus, and in training to become a thief-acrobat. His barbarian’s name is “Nectar”, pronounced “Nek-Tarr”. Don’t get it wrong. And he’s… a bard. He speaks entirely in limericks.

Paladin: Why?

GM: I didn’t want him to play a bard so I set an impossible standard for him to meet and he met it.

Paladin: Holy fuck that’s amazing.

[Fast forward to when we actually meet the paladin in game.]

GM: You come across the warrior in the clearing, surrounded by a ring of bandit corpses. She cleans off her single-edged sword and sheathes it with a practiced meticulousness. She hears your approach and rises from her station.

Paladin: The battle was long.
              I fear I killed far too much.
              Do not judge me. Please.

Nectar: This is a mighty warrior indeed! What do you call yourself? Will you fight with us?

Paladin: My name is Elya.
              Tell me: Do your cause be just?
              If so: I will fight.

Druid: We seek to kill necromancers and their undead legions. What cause can be more just than that?

Paladin: Stand with you, I will.
              So, in carnage, I shall bloom,
              Like flowers at dawn.

Bard: That verse, I know it true.
          I don’t mean to offend you,
          But would it be crime
          To call your rhyme
          The verse known as “haiku”?

DM: [Looks over at his friend] I swear, if you do this, you’re dead to me.

Paladin: You’re trained in your craft
              To recognize ancient form.
              I like you, indeed.

Bard (OOC): Booyah! Poetry prevails

DM: I am going to find an excuse to kill both of you, I swear.