Yes, I like spikes.

Was first sketched with a finger on a water-drop covered bus window. Later redrawn in a better, updated, purple and red colored (because I lack my awesome black pen) version during a highly boring presentation in geography about predicting tsunamis. Conclusion - you can’t really predict tsunamis. Isn’t that a surprise. (I’ve been watching too many Zero Punctuation videos. Can you tell?)


I’ll just… let everything speak for itself. Ah… I hope @not-poignant will offer me an asylum in case any waterhorses come for my head…?

Also, Gwyn, the hockeyplayer, called me and said that skater Augus is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Also, the hospital called, said that they have someone named Ash, who has almost died from laughter after seeing his brother rapping.

I’m an educated man, mistress, if I may be so bold. Maybe not as educated as you, but I had a tutor, a good one.He taught me Latin and Greek and such, not childhood stories of fairies, devils, waterhorses in lochs. But I am also a Highlander, born and bred, and I dinna believe in tempting fate by making light of old Nick in his very own kirkyard.

So when you would come here as a boy to prove your manhood, What exactly would you do? 

Not much. Caper about, mostly. Climb the walls. Maybe defy the devil by pissing on the stones.You might be lucky and find some berries or wood garlic to eat.

Wood garlic? And you’d eat it?


Can you show me? 

Oh, I didn’t like the taste of it, but some folks find it a treat.

This isn’t wood garlic. It’s convallaria majalis, lily of the valley.

Lily of the valley?

Claire and Jamie


going home  [instrumental tracks with that magical sense of finality which makes coming home feel not just like the end but also a new beginning……]

[ LISTEN ] [ download in 8tracks description]

1. River Road - Nancy Wilson | 2. Comptine Du Autre Ete  - Yann Tiersen | 3. The Waterhorse main titles - James newton howard | 4. The Journey to the Grey Havens - Howard shore  | 5. Portum in Ultimo - Codex Calixtinus   | 6. The New World - James Horner  | 7. Sunrise on Lake Pontchartain - Alexandre Desplat | 8. Your Hands are cold - Dario Marianelli | 9. Mother’s Journey - Yann Tiersen | 10. I Waited  - Rachel Portman | 11. The Departure - Michael Nyman | 12. The Last Man - Clint Mansell | 13. Anne Dreams of her childhood - Trevor Morris | 14. Silent Wings - Secret Garden | 15. Kay’s Vision of his Father - Mychael Danna  | 16 . I The Eighth Henry Brandon - Trevor Morris | 17. Northbound Train - Martin Phipps | 18. Let Justice be Done - Rachel Portman | 19. Maester  - Ramin Djawadi | 20. Gravity theme - Steven Price | 21. Setting Sail - Bear McCreary | 22. Waters of Irrawaddy - Hans Zimmer | 23. Illusionist Finale - Sylvain Chomet | 24. Interstellar main theme - Hans Zimmer | 25. I was never going to Africa - Abel Korzeniowski

anonymous asked:

That latest update with the golden age okay wow wow wow damn you are amazing at writing. I was trying to sudy and augus kept popping into my head with this pland would be useful because of this venom and oh waterhorses could of evolved from this, i'm trying to finish my zoology degree XD and all i'm getting from him is sensory deprevation with gwyn and how how them both being teachers in a uni or augus in a library, do they ever do that to you? like do not leave you alone? i hope your well x

Okay firstly, reading this ask was a total rollercoaster my dude. Here have some hot cocoa and some fairy bread because I simultaneously think you need to calm down but also keep going. <3

And yes, yes, they don’t leave me along all the time. I think about them every day. For years, they just are like a part of my life. It’s a cool thing that others get to experience this too, I think it’s like, one of the most amazing parts of being a writer like… if other people obsess about your characters or can’t stop thinking about them, and in that process of obsession, they become your characters too, and you give them a life of their own and new stories or new scenes and it’s just a really awesome process.

But they first didn’t stop leaving me alone during SAL, and when I started writing Game Theory, it was like - I dreamed about them, I daydreamed on car trips about them, I wrote random things about them in my phone, I made myself cry while on walks thinking about them, and I still do that, it’s just now they have to share space with Mosk and Eran and a few other characters.

But Gwyn and Augus are loud little fucking shits and once they take brain space they don’t like to move out again! (And Ash has his own ability to do this, with certain readers, like Ash just moves into people’s brains and takes care of them I think, and it seems to happen in a uniquely ‘Ash’ kind of way).

Jamie: I’m an educated man, mistress, if I may be so bold.Maybe not as educated as you, but I had a tutor, a good one.He taught me Latin and Greek and such, not childhood stories of fairies, devils, waterhorses in lochs.But I am also a Highlander, born and bred, and I dinna believe in tempting fate by making light of old Nick in his very own kirkyard.

Shifted - Part 3

Every Tuesday I’ll be posting a chapter from my brand new AU story. The premise is simple - what if Claire had gotten pregnant with Brianna a month or two earlier in the story, and she and Jamie had re-evaluated their priorities and decided that the cause was lost, and they were able to slip away from the army and quietly return to Lallybroch?

Author’s Note: This part contains only one chapter. Part 4 will begin next week!

Previous installments…

Part 3 - The Dream

Lallybroch, Spring 1753

“This is what you get for thinking The Odyssey is suitable bedtime reading.”

Claire sighed as Brianna’s head snuggled deeper into her chest, sniffing softly. One soothing hand stroked her daughter’s back as she glared at her husband, who had propped up on one elbow and wrapped his other arm around his women, holding them tight.

Jamie’s determined gaze met hers in the candlelight. “I dinna want her filling her heid wi’ only the Bible and fairy stories. She’s smart – she should learn the classics, and appreciate them.”

“She’s six, Jamie.”

“I ken that. But she’s got such an imagination – I thought -”

“You should think again.”

He sighed. Brianna had uncharacteristically padded down the hallway from the room she shared with her cousins and pushed open her parents’ door – running directly to her father’s side of the bed, tears streaming down her face.

Jamie had bolted upright at the noise, quickly wrapping his arms around his daughter and lifting her to sit on his lap. “What is it, a leannan? What’s wrong?”

Brianna hiccupped, wrapping her tiny limbs around Jamie’s torso. She mumbled something into his shirt.

Jamie’s brow furrowed. “What?” One big hand stroked her back, and he felt her nod furiously.

“Jamie?” Claire, now awake, sat up gingerly, carefully negotiating the bulge of a five-month pregnancy.

“It’s all right, Sassenach – wee Brianna had a bad dream.”

Jamie turned to face Claire – and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, nestling Brianna safely between them.

“Mama’s here, love,” she murmured, kissing her daughter’s red curls. “Do you want to tell us about it?”

Brianna’s face pulled away from Jamie’s shirt, blinking slowly. “It was the Cy-clops, Da. He was here.”

“The Cyclops? From The Odyssey?”

“Aye, he was here, and in the dooryard, and he was chasing me and Maggie and Katherine and Mrs. Crook, too.” She squirmed in Jamie’s lap and turned to face her mother. “He was going to eat us and some of Auntie Jenny’s lambs were there too and – ”

Seas, a nighean.” Jamie’s hand cupped Brianna’s small shoulder. “Stop now. Dinna get yerself all worked up again.”

Brianna sniffed. She shifted to curl herself around Claire’s belly. “I couldna let him get in the house, Mama. I couldna let him get you or Baby William.”

Claire’s palm met Jamie’s on Brianna’s back, squeezing his fingers. She swallowed. Brianna was so convinced that the baby was a boy – and she’d decided he would be named William, after the uncle she’d never known but seen every day in the portrait hanging over the stairs.

“Shh. I’m fine, the baby’s fine. Awake right now, thanks to you – but fine.” Claire slowly eased back onto the pillows, drawing Brianna down with her. Jamie followed, holding them tightly and stroking Brianna’s hair. Slowly, slowly they felt their daughter settle back in to sleep.

“I know it’s maybe not the best book in the world for her to learn, aye?” he said at length, voice low. “But Claire – she’s never been more than five miles from Lallybroch. She’s never seen the world as you and I have. And I dinna want her to think that this is all there is.”

Claire sighed. Jamie had long been frustrated with the terms of his pardon – he hadn’t left the estate in almost seven years. But it was a price he’d been more than willing to pay – well worth his wife and daughter’s safety.

“I know you only want what’s best for her. But do you remember when you were her age? How easy it was for you to believe anything?”

Jamie’s thumb traced the base of her neck. “That schoolmaster down in the village will never help her understand the world as I wish her to. So I must do it myself.”

She leaned toward him across Brianna’s peaceful dreaming face, kissing him gently.

“Shh. I know. She’s lucky to have a father who cares so much.”

He kissed her again, lightly. “I worry that one day, when she’s grown – she’ll think this is a dull place, she’ll no want to stay here. I – ” He exhaled. “I want her to live her life in the way she pleases, but Claire, if that means she wishes to part from us – ”

Claire butted her nose against Jamie’s and kissed him for a long while, silencing him.

When she finally pulled back, she drew her nose up along the side of his, kissing his closed eyes.

“She’s six, Jamie. We have years and years until that may come to pass. And now with this other one – she’ll be such a wonderful sister. That will be a motivation to stay.”

He nudged her chin with his, finding her lips again.

“I dinna wish her bad dreams – but it’s nice, the four of us together like this, aye?”

“You say that only because you don’t have one child kicking you on the inside and the other kicking you on the outside.”

She felt his smile against her lips.

“Ye’ve made me so happy, mo nighean donn. I dinna tell you often enough.”

Claire’s hand traced his jaw in the candlelight. “You don’t need to tell me, idiot. You show me every day.”

He hummed, and she delighted in the feel of it under her fingers.



“Maybe the fairy stories for a bit, all right?”

He sighed, settling his head directly next to hers on the pillow.

“All right then. But ye willna begrudge me if I share wi’ her a tale I’ve been thinking of on my own for a while?”

She rubbed her nose against his, intrigued.

“Tell me?”

He kissed her chin. “Ah well, it’s just a wee story about a beautiful brown-haired lass who fell through magic stones, ken? And somehow ended up 200 years in the past.”

Jamie’s hand slid to her side and drew her palm away from Brianna’s back. He tangled his fingers through hers, thumb tracing her iron ring.


He smiled. “She missed her own people, and her own time. But her life was full of adventure – living in castles, sleeping in the heather, seeing waterhorses. She was a rare healer, too – with a kind touch, and a good knowledge of plants and herbs.”

Many times they’d lain together like this – in the deep of night, noses touching, limbs tangled or bodies still joined after the act of love – whispering to each other. The topics always changed – her time, his time. Brianna, Jenny, Ian, his parents – and even Faith. Recently, this new child. But always they discussed whether – and when, and how – to share Claire’s secret with Brianna. She had a right to know – but how much? And to what end?

Perhaps this was the best way to introduce her to the idea – after all, the best fairy stories are those with a bit of truth to them. And on the day when Claire and Jamie would tell their daughter the full truth – she’d be at least familiar with the idea.

She squeezed his fingers. “What about her knack for getting caught by enemy soldiers? Or sticking her nose in clan politics?”

His thumb caressed her knuckles. “Aye, she got into heaps of trouble along the way. Did I mention that she was English, but fell back in time to the Highlands? So she didna fully understand where she was, or why people thought of her the way they did.”

“Part fairy story, part morality tale. I think Brianna would like that.”

“I hope so. One more part, though – right after falling through the magic stones, this beautiful lass met a young lad whose shoulder was in need of mending. And after she patched him up, he was drawn to her – he knew she was a stranger in a strange land, and he swore an oath to protect her. And she needed protecting from the fairies and witches and waterhorses, though she didna ken it at the time.”

Her heartbeat quickened. He swallowed.

“He admired her spirit, her knowledge, her character. Her beauty. He always wanted to be wi’ her when she got into scrapes. And slowly the lad fell in love with her. But he didna say anything to her about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because she wasna ready – she wasna sure whether she wanted to stay, or go back through the stones, to her own time. He didna want to say anything, because he didna want to pressure her to do anything. But it tore the lad up inside, ken?”

Tears slipped out of Claire’s tired eyes. “I ken,” she said softly.

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Ah. And one day, the beautiful lass got into trouble again – but this time, she realized she needed the lad’s protection. And he gladly helped her. And then she realized that she loved the lad, too. And from that day forth, she wanted to live in the land of fairies and castles and waterhorses – not on the other side of the stones. She told him she loved him, and he was filled wi’ such joy.” His forehead met hers. “So they quickly got married – but it was still proper, though – in a kirk wi’ a priest, her wearing a nice dress, and wi’ witnesses, because that’s what she deserved. Then the lad swept her up on his horse and took her home with him.”

Claire sniffed. “Let me guess – and they lived happily ever after?”

Jamie’s thumb brushed away her tears. “Yes. It wasna easy – they didna always agree on things, because they came from different times, and she sometimes didna think she needed him to protect her. But they loved each other too much to stay mad for long. But they were – are – happy. So happy.”

Claire had no words – she could only kiss him, long and hard.

“I think she’ll like that story,” she whispered against his lips, several moments later.

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Ah well. I suppose I can fit in the Greek and Latin somewhere else then.”


A double feature:

“Twin Moons” and “Fluttershy’s Kelpie Adventures” or, “How to Make Friends with a Giant Murderous Waterhorse, Because Making Friends with Weird Animals is Something Fluttershy is Great At and I Really Like Seeing Her Do it, Like with That Bear She Hangs Out With, That Stuff’s Great”

that title doesn’t really roll off the tongue, though

anonymous asked:

Oh my gosh! It's open!! It's really actually open! I come here most days and it must be my lucky day to see your ask open. Ok so my ask is this: Imagine in an Alternate Universe, Claire came through the stones with Fergus and he's her biological son from a parallel universe Jamie!

Hello anon. With the exception of the biological part, this sounds a lot like my Fergus through the stones AU. Here are the links for the first few installments. 

Mod Lenny ; )

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 

Fergus pulled the blankets up around his ears.

“I am not well, Mother Claire,” he pled, drawing his knees up towards his stomach. “I will be sick if I go out of be.”

Claire lowered herself onto the mattress beside him, grimacing as the springs creaked under her weight. She put a hand to his forehead and frowned.

“Sit up,” she told him. Encouraged, he did so and lifted his head high while she felt along his throat. “Mmmhmm,” she murmured. She took his wrist and felt for his pulst. “Interesting…”

Fergus’ eyes went wide.

“You most certainly have come down with a serious case––very serious,” she told him taking his hands in hers.

“A serious case?” he asked, swallowing hard.

“A very serious case of nerves,” she nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately, the only cure is to face the day and see it through. To the best of my knowledge, everyone feels nervous on their first day of school.” She rose and pulled the blankets back to the foot of the bed, exposing Fergus’ pale legs.

He sighed and climbed out of bed.

“What do you mean, ‘to the best of your knowledge’?” he asked as he began to dress.

Clare set about straightening the bed as best she could maneuvering around her over-large belly––she was due sometime in the next two months.

“I didn’t have much in the way of formal schooling myself,” she told Fergus. Adjusting the pillows she added, “My uncle tried dropping me off at a boarding school when I was five or six but that didn’t last very long. So he took me with him on his expeditions for work and I learned what I could on my own and with him tutoring me.”

“If you did not go to school,” Fergus objected, pulling a sweater on over his head, “why must I? You will be home with le bébé soon. Can you not teach me then?”

Claire smiled at him as she rubbed her belly. “I’ll be a bit busy with the baby,” she pointed out. “Besides, I can’t teach you everything you’ll need to learn.:

“Milord did not attend such schools.”

“Milord went to université. Are you worried about the other students?” She leaned against the table Fergus would use as a desk as she watched him tie his shoes. Her crossed arms rested atop the swell of her belly.

Fergus’ neck went pink.

“You’ll have Roger in your class,” she reminded him. “He’ll introduce you to everyone.”

“I am older than him and the others. And he already knows more than I do. They will laugh and they will think me…” He couldn’t find the word he wanted and instead of reverting to the French, as he was wont to do, he groaned loudly and flopped onto the bed. He started as the springs caused the mattress to bounce rather than give way––another reminder he would never feel entirely comfortable in this strange future time.

Claire sighed and sat beside him once more. She reached over and brushed one of his dark curls from his forehead.

“You’ve been doing really well here in this time,” she remarked.

“I had more…” he faltered again. “I was valuable to milord without schooling. To go back now it… it is… lowering.”

“Milord would not have seen it as such and neither will anyone here,” she insisted. “You will find ways to make friends and you will find a place for yourself––I promise––but you have to go to school and try first. You deserve to get to be a real child for a change––to not bear the weight of the responsibilities you had before. Growing up is not…”

She trailed off as Fergus sighed again. She didn’t need to remind him of the horrors the world held; he’d seen many of them first-hand before she’d even met him. What he needed was a mother.

She slipped a hand behind his back and did her best to raise him up.

“You’re going to be late and I want you to have a decent breakfast before I walk you to school,” she told him. “Any and all further griping must wait until the end of the day when you have something new to gripe about.”

Fergus allowed himself to be led from his room.

Keep reading

my brown-haired lass  {a light and mostly instrumental playlist for jamie and claire from the ‘outlander’ series.} 

LISTEN ] [download in 8tracks info]

1. didn’t get wet - james newton howard | 2. the bathtub - behn zeitlin | 3. strang’s leap - shaun davey | 4. northern pastures - two steps from hell  | 5. new tail - john powell  | 6. homecoming - george fenton  | 7. laughter montage - rachel portman | 8. spring - thomas newman | 9. waterhorse suite - james newton howard | 10. merry men  - marc streitenfeld | 11. river road - nancy wilson | 12. as i roved out - loreena mckennitt