#this is chapter 1

[marstonandson]

Tearful Reunions

read on Ao3

words: 2183

Now that he's on his own, Jack stumbles across two people from his parents' past and gets a little comfort along the way.

--

Chapter 1: Mrs. Adler

Jack glanced up at the saloon, one he’d never been to before, wondering if this was even a good idea. It was possible she wouldn’t even remember him. The last time they saw each other, he was just a boy, but his few memories of her were good ones. She’d always been good to him, even from the beginning.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the saloon doors and strode up to the bar, surveying the place while he waited for the bartender. “Hey there, friend. Whiskey, if you could.” The man nodded and poured out a drink, sliding the glass toward his outstretched hand. Without any reservation, Jack downed it, barely making a face, and met the bartender’s eyes. “I was told I could find someone at this here saloon.”

In turn, the bartender narrowed his eyes. “Depends. If you got the proper motivation I may be able to help you.”

Without blinking, Jack reached into his pocket and slammed ten dollars onto the counter. “Do you know a woman named Sadie Adler? I was told she frequents this place.”

The bartender’s gaze slid down toward the money, where he carefully picked it up to leaf through it. Without looking back up, he nodded. “Comes in here to play poker from time to time. Should be in the back. She’s a scary one though, mister, I suggest you find someone else if you’re looking for company in bed.”

“Thanks.” Jack knew better than to argue about the situation, pushing off of the bar to walk past the drunken fools around him and toward the door the man had indicated. As he approached, he could hear voices.

“I fold.”

“Aha! I told ya, Thompson, you ain’t gonna get a cent outta me!”

“Of course not. You’re just a cheatin’ whore!” A chair scraped against the ground.

“I know you are, so what am I? See you next week when you’re ready to give me more money!” The door swung open and a middle-aged man stormed out, bumping Jack’s shoulder hard. Another man inside sighed.

“Oh, give it a rest, Adler. One day it’ll be your brains on the wall.”

“As if he could even move fast enough to shoot an armadillo stuck in mud. If it’s a duel he wants, it’s a duel he’ll get, but he ain’t walkin’ away from it.”

Jack breathed in, trying not to look as nervous as he felt, and pushed the door open. In the poker room sat a man and a woman. The woman had her feet up on the table, dozens of poker chips around her. Her blonde hair was streaked with gray, cut about shoulder length and adorned with a white hat. She glanced up as the door opened, and the smile faded from her face as she pulled her feet off the table.

“John?” she asked, nearly breathless. “I heard…I thought you was dead!”

For what felt like the thousandth time, Jack’s heart shattered. God, he really looked like his father, didn’t he? “I’m…I’m afraid he is dead, ma’am.”

“You know this feller, Adler?” The man beside her asked, looking between the two like it was a game.

Sadie’s face twisted from shock, to confusion, to recognition. She blinked once, then twice, then suddenly got to her feet, the chair scraping loudly against the wood. “Jack?”

His eyes pricked, but he blinked and smiled to hide it. “Yeah. ‘M all grown now.”

“That you is! You son of a bitch, c’mere!” She rushed forward, hugging him less than gracefully, and as relief coursed through his veins, he returned it. “You was just a boy last time I saw you! Now look how big you’ve gotten!” Sadie pulled away after a moment, inspecting him closer, her eyes taking in every detail of his new look. “I’m so glad to see you. How the hell are you?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, for a moment a little uncomfortable about the coddling when there was a stranger in the room. On the other hand, she reminded him of his mother, and he took comfort in that.

Sadie looked at him like she knew his answer was a lie, then gestured to the table. “C’mon, take a seat. And Mr. Martin, get out of here.”

“But -”

“I said get out.”

The man looked at Jack, then Sadie, then sighed, grabbing his hat. He sent Jack one last look before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. She grinned at Jack, gesturing toward the table again, and they each took a seat.

Sadie leaned her elbows on her knees, watching him like she was looking at a dead man. He supposed, in a way, she was. He was John’s legacy.

“How’s your Ma?”

Jack knew this question would be coming, but it still hurt as if a train had collided with his chest. “...I buried her last month.”

“Oh, no…” she murmured, her eyes darkening as she looked down at the ground. After a few seconds, she reached forward, placing a hand on his knee. “I’m so sorry, Jack.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering how frail Abigail had become after John’s death, how her health had just been deteriorating for years on end until it finally claimed her life. He hoped, wherever they were now, they were together.

“I heard you was in Armadillo, Mrs. Adler,” he said, opening his eyes to change the subject. “Wasn’t even sure if you’d remember me, but I figured I’d stop by for old times’ sake.”

Sadie’s brows shot up. “Not remember you? The Marstons’ boy? How could I not remember you, Jack? You was always a little firecracker. I liked you. Never hesitated to give your old man some of that backtalk.”

Jack found himself smiling a little. “I’ll never forget those sweets you snuck me before dinnertime. Ma just about killed us.”

She lit up. “Thankfully we could use Uncle as a scapegoat, the old dog.” Jack hadn’t heard his name in a while, either. His chest twisted painfully again. She seemed to notice, and got to her feet. “Stay here, partner. I’m gonna get us some drinks, on me.”

“You don’t have to -”

“‘Course I do. You’re family.” She smiled, then left the poker room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Glancing up at the ceiling, Jack let out a long sigh and slowly reached for his father’s hat, taking it off to place on the table. His gaze wandered to the bookshelf in the corner, and he wondered if he ought to start writing that book he always joked he would write. Would that make John proud? Or would this, this life he was living now, make him proud?

For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted to be like John. And John always fought against it. Now, he supposed, he knew why.

The door swung open and Sadie returned with three glasses. She slid two of them toward him, smiling kindly. “Looks like you needed the extra.”

He didn’t even have the energy to thank her, and instead wordlessly picked up one of the glasses. Swirling the liquid around for a moment, he furrowed his brows. “You…lost your husband a long time ago, didn’t you, Mrs. Adler?”

Her eyes softened. “Yes, I did. It’s how I ended up joinin’ the gang. And jeez, Jack, call me Sadie already.”

“Sorry.” He watched the alcohol ripple in its glass. “After Pa died, I was so focused on takin’ care of Ma like he always told me to and…and now that she’s gone, I…” As his eyes began to burn, he brought the glass to his lips, trying to focus on the burn in his throat instead. He took a deep breath. “I found him, Sadie. Found the man who killed my father, and I killed him. I thought it would make things easier, but it ain’t. Nothin’s easy.”

Sadie was quiet for a moment, then scooted her chair a little closer. “No, it ain’t easy,” she said, the gentlest he’d ever heard her be, “It ain’t easy ‘cause you’re your pa’s kid. Y’know he did the same thing.”

“What?”

“Him, and me, and Charles, we all went after the feller who killed your Uncle Arthur,” she explained, leaning back in her seat. “I always heard the folk in camp talk about Dutch’s philosophy, or whatever it was. ‘Revenge is a fool’s game’, they’d say. But revenge kept us all goin’. It’s the only reason we survived this long. I killed the man who killed my Jakey, and I don’t regret it one bit.”

Jack looked down at his lap, placing the glass down and squeezing his gloved hands into tight fists. “It felt good,” he admitted, remembering the surprised look on Ross’ face before he fell to the ground. “Real good. But since then, nothin’s made any sense. Nothin’s fair. I…I miss ‘em both so much.”

“It’s a cruel world we live in, Jack Marston,” she agreed. “The pain gets easier to bear, but it also sometimes hits ya out of nowhere like a group of bandits. Someday, you’ll find a nice lady, settle down like they always wanted you to. You’re still young. You’ll be fine.”

“It don’t feel fine,” he choked, wondering why he was even saying all of this. Hot tears spilled over and began falling down onto his lap. The sound of a scraping chair filled his ears as Sadie came closer. His head soon rested against her chest, a gentle hand running through his hair. He cried harder, knowing he hadn’t been treated this kindly in months, making him miss his mother more than ever.

Sadie held him for a while, not saying anything, just letting him cry. Eventually, as it slowed, she sighed softly. “I never got around to havin’ children,” she said, “and it ain’t my place to say, but I’m proud of you, Jack. Real proud. You’ve grown into a fine man.”

Carefully, Jack sat up, wiping away at his face. “...Thank you.” He didn’t feel like one, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think our reunion was gonna go like this.”

“Nonsense, don’t apologize. I just have that charmin’, put-you-at-ease effect on people.”

He smiled slightly. “I think my Pa would disagree with that.”

“And I’d kick his ass for it,” she replied, returning the smile. “Where you been stayin’?”

“Camping around, mostly,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since Ma died, I…can’t bring myself to stay at Beecher’s Hope.”

Sadie nodded, getting to her feet. “I didn’t have that problem. Micah burned my fuckin’ house down,” she sighed, offering a hand. “C’mon, my house ain’t far. Just for a night, let’s get a roof over your head.”

Jack blinked. “You sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure. Your parents were friends of mine, Jack, so you’re a friend of mine, too. C’mon now.”

Forcing air into his lungs, he nodded, reaching forward to take the last glass and down it. Then he took Sadie’s hand to let her pull him up. Together, they headed outside, mounted their horses, and he followed her to a small cabin a little outside of town. It was everything one person could need; a small kitchen, a single bed, a bathtub. 

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?” she asked, which completely caught him off guard.

“Um…few days, maybe,” he admitted. Sleep was harder than it had ever been in his life before. He’d be lying if he said the fatigue wasn’t getting to him; his whole body felt heavy.

Sadie gave him a knowing smile, like she had once gone through the same thing. “Lie down then, partner.”

“Oh, n-no, no, this is your bed. I can’t possibly -”

“It’s an order. In you get, before I cut off that pretty hair of yours.”

Jack gulped. No wonder his father always seemed to follow Sadie’s lead instead of the other way around. Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed, then moved to lay down, breathing in the smell of smoke and whiskey. Sadie sat beside him, shaking her head slightly.

“Do you still read them storybooks you used to love?”

“Sometimes.” His body felt heavier by the minute.

“Last time we saw each other, you were readin’ one about…uh…flyin’ monkeys or some such…”

Jack smiled, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Wizard of Oz.”

“Yeah! The man behind the curtain. Callin’ himself a wizard is mighty high self-praise though, I’ll tell you that. And I’d be surprised if a scarecrow could walk around without a brain, but plenty of fellers do that every day…”

While she spoke, for a moment, he was on the couch at home, with Abigail in the armchair and John by the fire. He was safe. He was happy. He was young.

He was happy to have that, for just that moment, before sleep whisked him away.

[m-to-the-6th-power]

Gonna start doing WIP Wednesday, I'll either share snippets I've written that ive got planned for later in the fic. Based on an idea from this tumblr post that put the plot bunny up for adoption.

Gideon stared down at the paper for a long tense moment. A commission, not only that but an officer's commission. 1st lieutenant in the cohort. Sponsored by Aiglaminaie and marked with the seal of the Ninth. Signed by both the Revenant, no Reverend Mother and Father. She looked up at her teacher. "Why?" She asked plainly and openly, sensing a deeper current just waiting to pull her under. 

"You need freedom. The house needs from you. I convinced our lady to let you go with this commission if you swear by The Tomb and The Rock that you will keep your tongue in your head, return after your commission is up for at least five years, and if you will keep an ear to the ground for any who have no love for their house," Aiglaminaie gave a stern look to Gideon. "Any new blood would be a blessing. And I'm sure if anyone can draw a crowd, it will be you Nav." 

Gideon felt a surge in her chest at that, not quite pride but close. "And what? Convince them to come and live here? I hate it here, how will they feel?" 

Aiglaminaie looked at Gideon for a long moment, peeling her layers away slowly. "There are many who tire of war, of fighting. There are chances for silent contemplation and art here. It is mysterious, and it is holy. Those will be your selling points." 

Gideon nodded, "Freaks and geeks, got it," Gideon said, holding up a hand to forestall Aiglaminaie, "I'll try to get anyone i can, maybe I'll even find a nice older swordsperson for you. To take over training of course. Any preference?" 

Aiglaminaie stared at Gideon for a long moment before her mouth quirked up into what for anyone else would be a smile. "As long as they are sufficiently deft with a blade, theirs or others, I'm sure they'll do just fine." 

Gideon gave an honest smile and a hug to the only person who had ever loved her on the Ninth. "When do I leave?" 

"The shuttle arrives in 2 hours. Pack your bags and be ready. Lady Harrowhark wants to see you before you leave, she'll probably just run over everything I've already covered. But until you're on that shuttle you're still a member of this house first, don't make her regret sending you."

Gideon grasped Aiglaminaie by the shoulders. "I will make you proud," She said before turning and starting to gather items around her cell. 

Aiglaminaie gave a soft, "You already have Nav," before leaving the cell. 

------ 

Gideon arrived at cohort headquarters five hours later, her shades firmly in place and head spinning with the press of humanity all around her. It should've only taken 4 from the time Aiglaminaie had first given her the commission, but as usual Harrowhark Nonagesimus had to waylay Gideon for an hour being spooky and all around weird. The first item in her itinerary was to get her picture taken, then the physical testing, and finally getting her room assignment and new wardrobe.

As Gideon waited in line, the person behind her tapped her shoulder. When Gideon looked, she saw a girl about her age, tan with a necromantic build, with brown hair the color of Drearburh dirt and eyes the color of ink. "Yes?" Gideon asked, attempting politeness. 

The girl blushed immediately, looking down at her hands now clasped in front of her. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I think your hair is gorgeous, and I really like your glasses."

Gideon felt her mouth drop open, shocked at the compliment. "Thanks," Gideon said, feeling her chest puff slightly as she felt the warmth spreading up from her stomach. "I really like your eyes. It's like looking into space." 

The girl thrust out a hand, "Eleanor Chatur. Necromancer of the Fourth House. Commissioned Second Lieutenant. Available." 

Gideon felt shock roll through her at the forwardness and took the hand carefully, she didn't want to get in trouble before her picture was even taken for breaking another soldiers hand. "Gideon Nav. Two hander swordswoman of the Ninth. Commissioned First Lieutenant. Also available for a late lunch after all this."

"It's a date," Eleanor said, grinning. "But just a warning ninth, don't forget. The Fourth is all about fidelity." She said, imbuing the last word with such import that Gideon felt a shiver go down her spine. 

Gideon was searching for an appropriate quip as a head popped out of the door next to her, "Next picture."

Gideon turned to Eleanor, "They'll have to lock me up to keep me away," Gideon said before turning back to the man standing at the door looking peeved. "Let's meet in the cafeteria around 3."

As Gideon sat for her picture, lenses tucked safely in her pocket and appropriately solemn look on her face, she felt her head spinning. The first day of the rest of her life was starting off well. She was joining the cohort, away from Nonagesimus, and she had a date. Nothing was going to bring her down today. 

That is right up until the terminal began to beep incessantly and everyone in the room trained their weapons on her. "Place your weapon on the ground and place your hands on your head. Slowly."

Gideon did as instructed, staring down the barrel of the gun pointed at her face, the interior like the yawning void of space. "What's this about?" She asked, feeling cold bands begin to wrap around her ribs. 

"Your picture triggered quite a few warnings in our system," One of the men inside said, reading off the terminal. "What's your mother's name?"

"What's yours asshole?" Gideon responded before her verbal filter could fully catch up. "I don't know, okay?" Gideon said plainly after only a moment. "She landed on the Ninth in a haz suit with me, I survived, she didn't. Couldn't get anything from her but my name."

The man nodded slowly. "Fine, fine. You'll be held in the brig pending communications with the first house," The man gestured to the one standing closest to Gideon, "I'm sure we'll get this all figured out with no issue lieutenant, and you'll be able to get back to your duty in no time."

As Gideon was lead away the bands tightened around her chest. 'I'm not making it to that lunch date am I?'

-----

The first day was the hardest. She was free of the Ninth house. She was at the cohort to become a soldier, and she was already back in a cell. The cuff on her ankle was disturbingly familiar in a way that made her skin crawl and the spot between her shoulders itch. She didn't even have her sword.

The floor felt odd against her hands. It was slightly soft and had give. It made her pushups harder to do, but star jumps and sit ups felt better overall. She felt herself slipping, like her recent height had been built on a dune made of Drearburh silt and it was starting to slip away faster and faster, skeletons from Nonagesimus forming from the silt to strike her down for her hubris of believing she could escape a cell. 

After her training and a meal, a double helping of spiced ground beef covered with a vibrant yellow cheese that did not look safe and strips of potato with the skin still on in parts covered with salt, she felt better. She stopped and thought about her options as she lay down to sleep. They had said once everything was cleared up she could return to duty. She would find Eleanor and explain that they actually had locked her up and hopefully get that date. She would take the field, first on the ground, hopefully in a battalion with Eleanor as her Necromancer. As she began to imagine what it would be like in the field, Eleanor and her in the officers berth together, sitting together and chatting after a long difficult battle. Eleanor removing Gideon's leathers, running her delicate hands over her shoulders from behind her, reverential like she was something precious and holy. Eleanor resting her head between Gideon's shoulder blades just beneath the knob of her spine and saying, "That was truly exceptional. Your skill with a sword is unparalleled." The hands run down her sides, nails dragging softly along her ribs and abdominal muscles, coming to rest at the hem of her cohort undershirt, skin just barely brushing skin. "Color me impressed Griddle,"  Was the last she imagined before sleep took her under. 

When Gideon first awoke the next day, she had a moment of extreme disorientation. Had everything, being freed from the ninth, coming to the cohort, meeting Eleanor, been a dream? Grief welled up in her chest, cold as a night spent outside in a Drearburh winter. She began to spiral downwards faster and faster like a shuttle caught in the gravitational well of Dominicus until finally she looked down at herself and noticed the stark white of the cohort undershirt and briefs she wore. The image of those instead of loose, flowing, black, Ninth house sleeping gowns immediately snapped her back to reality and released gravity. 

Gideon took a long moment to appreciate that at least one part of her freedom was still fully intact before levering herself up in the bed, tucking one foot under her thigh, the other ankle under her calf and deciding on a next course of action. She was going to fall behind in her physical fitness and classes sitting in here, the first could be mitigated by training, the second she would have to try to train herself in that area too. With that acknowledgement, Gideon stood and went to the door of her cell, three hard knocks bringing a cohort sergeant to the other side. 

"Chow is still an hour out Nav," The sergeant said with the faintest familiar accent and a glance at his watch. "I've known a few fresh Niners, was one myself 20 years ago. All of us were one step away from scurvy when we first showed up. I think I put on as much weight in my first two weeks from proper nutrition as I did the training."

At the mention of food Gideon realized that she was ravenous. "That's great Sergeant but not what I was gonna ask about," Gideon said shortly, "Can I get books in here? Something to pass the time and all that?" 

The sergeant nodded, "Oh yeah, you can get textbooks, comics, fiction and nonfiction from the library, just about anything they put on flimsy except skin mags. You can get skin mags from the store. Get them from the PX too, older issues are cheaper but they're fully digitized. Got stuff going back almost to the resurrection itself," He stopped and studied Gideon's face slowly, "Don't worry too much, most soldiers throughout their career will spend at least a few days in the brig, normally it doesn't result in a loss of station or anything, just a slap on the wrist really."

Gideon gave the man a grin, his reassurance surprisingly effective with that sight Niner lilt to his voice. "Thanks sergeant... I never caught your name," Gideon realized with a sheepish grin. 

"Anastas Nav," The man replied easily, spreading his hands. "I guess that almost makes us family huh?"

Gideon blinked, remembering the question from yesterday. She'd never had a family. The feeling was... nice was a good word for it, if a bit vague. It'd give Ortus conniptions to hear her be so lazy in descriptions. "I'll take any family I can get here," Gideon responded. "Any chance you could get me some books on tactics, strategy, anything that might be useful for a commissioned officer? And, if I promise to get you back for the cost, a skin mag?"

Anastas laughed, "The learning style books, sure, sure. No problems there. Unfortunately the skin mags are technically contraband, sorry cousin," He shrugged with a rueful look as if to say 'My hands are tied,' "It's a real pain when you're in here a week for a simple pub brawl and you got a copy of Fidelity of the Fourth and Naughty Nuns of the Ninth that you've barely creased waiting in your berth."  

Gideon's mind ground to a screeching halt at that. She felt her ears warming as she blushed, remembering Eleanor's comment and something fuzzy from her dreams the night before. "I'm sorry, what were those titles?" 

"Oh, I forgot you're fresh from the Ninth. You don't get those all the way out there. You've only got Mithraeum and Playadept right?" He asked as a bell began to ring, sounding the time. "And that's the chow bell. I'll see about getting you an extra helping of food like last night, and after my relief shows up, I'll see about getting you some light reading material."

Gideon's stomach took that moment to growl, low and sustained. "Thanks, if there's anything I can do for you once I'm out, just let me know."

Anastas nodded thoughtfully. "My old sergeant, man by the name of Ajax, always said the better the officer the sooner they end up in the brig," As he started walking away he called back, "When you're running this place, just remember your dear cousin Anastas."

Gideon found herself grinning when she started her workout, even in a cell with no clue of when she would be released, even with her fate fully uncertain, she had family. Someone with her name, someone who would claim her. She got entirely through her sit ups and push ups, standard and clapping, before the scrape of metal on plex sounded, a tray of food slid into the room. Just behind it was two truly massive cups of a black liquid with small wisps of steam coming off of them, with a bowl of white powder and a red and white carton following soon after. 

"Took me a while to get there," Anastas said from the other side of the door. "They were getting ready to clear down to begin lunch prep, so I got as much as I could grab. I need to take the sugar bowl, that's the white stuff, back PDQ, so go ahead and make up your bari how you like it and slide that back on through so I don't get busted down to cleaning the pissers, again."

Gideon moved the tray, watching it bow slightly in the middle as she lifted it and sat it to the side. She took 3 heaping spoonfuls of the sugar for each cup and slid the bowl back through. She opened the white and red carton, taking the hint and adding a small pour to each cup, suddenly entranced by the way the color shifted to tan as it spread through the drink. When she took her first sip, she found it sweet and smooth, feeling energy flow into her. When she turned to her tray she found a tray so loaded with food a necromancer would have been hard pressed to lift it. Slices of bread piled 5 high on one side, a pile of crusty looking almost bread on the other covered with a light glaze of some brown liquid, between them a massive pile of something a much milder yellow  with chunks of the dangerous yellow in it with three different kinds of meat, a patty that looked similar to her meal last night, something more tubular, and almost flat strips of meat dark red and white, all of this overtop of finely shredded potatoes, somehow clumped together and deep fried. 

Gideon Nav ate, no Gideon Nav feasted. She took a bite of everything before digging in with wild abandon. For the first time in nineteen years, she was sated, she was full. She found herself with a half piece of bread, pensively sopping up the last remnants of grease from the tray and thinking. While she ate Anastas had dropped off her books and she had started leafing through them. The books on tactics was fairly dense, and supremely dry, but Gideon had lived within hearing range of Ortus Neigenard for years. She could soldier, or well prisoner, through this. 

Through the day, Gideon studied, Gideon ate, Anastas dropped by after his shift had ended and chatted with her for a while. It was a bit strange when she stopped to think about it. She was in prison, back in a cell, but her needs were being met more strongly now than ever before. At least she wasn't in the dark any longer. 

After a few hours of reading Gideon felt an itch begin to crawl up her spine like she imagined a necromancer drawing her fingers slowly up her back would feel, barely there and ghostly. It made her squirm as she imagined Nonagesimus drawing those bony fingers along each knob of her spine. The feeling made her want, no need, to move. She did star jumps and push ups until the feelings abated. When she felt like herself again, Gideon settled back on her bed and studied more. The fingers came back faster the next time. Gideon forced herself to buckle down and focus solely on studying even with the distractions. She didn't notice how fast time was moving until the clatter of metal on plex sounded, a tray of food being pushed through the door towards her. She ate less ravenously this time, slowly working her way through the tray of food, still studying between bites. 

When sleep finally came for Gideon Nav, she fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of all the tactics she had absorbed through the day. She dreamed of working next to a necromancer that she never got a good look at who despite the action still found time to take hold of Gideon's hand at the end of the fighting, turning her palm inwards and pressing her lips softly to her palm, leaving a smudge of alabaster and charcoal paint behind. 

It was 2 weeks later when Gideon awoke to the sound of a tray sliding through the door. When she saw Anastas standing on the far side, a grin split her face. Anastas had been a great friend so far, even though he'd come from the Ninth, he might be willing to return. As she took the tray she leaned against the door. "You came from the Ninth, right?" Gideon asked, trying to figure out how to broach the topic. "How'd you like it back then?"

Anastas shrugged, "It was okay. I still have my prayer bones, and I still sometimes send off letters. The only one to consistently reply has been Orty," Here Gideon gave a mighty snort, "but that's not too surprising. Most Niner kids don't need to learn their letters, and he adds replies for most everyone still kicking. I know that almost all the other Nav kids died in that bad vent flu that went around. I'm glad at least one of us survived. How... How many others made it?"

Gideon felt a hot flush of shame as she thought back to the Ninth. "I'm not a true Nav kid, Anastas," Gideon admitted in a small voice, suddenly finding her fingernails incredibly interesting. "My mom crashed down the drill shaft in a haz suit with me in a bio container. She wouldn't give the necromancers anything when they pulled her spirit back, just my name, Gideon. They named me after what she said and gave me the last name Nav. I don't have any family, not really."

Anastas laughed, causing Gideon's head to snap up to meet his eyes so fast her neck gave a frightening pop. "My dad was like that," Anastas said by way of explanation. "Most of the Nav kids, you just have to go back 1 or 2 generations and you'll find the beginning of the line. You just don't have any tracing to do. But you're a Nav all the same. You're one of us Gideon Nav. Gideon of the Ninth; cousin." 

Gideon felt warmth pooling in her chest at his words. They didn't need blood, they didn't need a traceable link, they were family. "Thanks Anastas, that means, well, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." Gideon said, finally meeting his eyes. "As for the flu, only I survived. Nonagesimus wasn't quite born yet, and everyone else got taken," Gideon said. 

Anastas had the look of a man doing numbers in his head before opening his mouth. "Wait a minute, when you say Nonagesimus, do you mean Harrowhark Nonagesimus? The Reverend Daughter, future leader of the Ninth?" Anastas asked, the shock doing strange things to his voice. "That's the girl you left behind that you've been dreaming about?"

Gideon felt her face flushing in rage at the implication, anger causing her jaw to drop just before a call from the guard post interrupted. "Nav, Gideon, you have a visitor, prepare yourself."

Gideon jumped at the voice, shoving her tray out of the way of the door and running her fingers through her hair quickly, trying to make herself presentable before pulling her aviators over her eyes. After another long moment, Anastas opened the door to a truly massive man with dark red hair cropped short. His biceps put Gideon's to shame, and his green eyes looked out of place on his face. "Um, hi?" Gideon ventured, "Can I help you?"

He looked her up and down once, focusing on her hair. "My name is Gideon Pyrrha, I'm the Third Saint to serve the King Undying, one of his Fists and Gestures, an Immortal, and your father," Gideon Nav felt bands tightening around her chest at his name, growing tighter with every word spoken, the last word knocking her back against her cot with shock. "I'm here to take you home."

[twosomeofcuteness]

Part 2! This is a prequel fic in my secret santa verse (You, Me, and Our Ten Kids), and I'm just thrilled with how it came out! Anyway, will things go smoothly or does Jenny need that backup plan...

Jenny Calendar Day 2023 @jenny-calendar

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[possuminthetrashh]

What can I say, I sure love raccoons and parks

[tamanegi-san]

the first thing I thought about after reading 118

[littlestarprincess]

While I'm not one to advocate for all daughters to love their mothers, it's fascinating to me that we're opening with daughter vs mother vs grandmother and it's rooted in calling each other "dramatic" and "ridiculous".

Her mother is a bitch for not wanting Adeline to live in Parson's Manor, but she describes seeing her gynecologist as more painful. (Why her gynecologist? I dunno.) but we're meant tk understand that it's more about how her mom is always like this.

Her dead grandma was so nice and sweet, looking at the world through rose colored lenses, and her mom is a bitch who's rose colored lenses got smashed (probably on the way out of Nana's vagina. We're on page six and this is the second reference to vaginas. It's giving pussy power.)

"She wasn't raised this way".

There are a lot of allusions to this ideal of femininity and it seems like Adeline's issues with her mom are more rooted in her mother's failure to live up to this standard. There's a brief mention of her mom not being able to tolerate her when she was growing up, even though one page ago her mom was complaining about Adeline living too far away. Adeline gives us a quick breakdown of her background and does not reference a change of attitude.

We finally get an actual example of bitchiness halfway down the page, when her mom seems to change her mind *again*, and talks about wanting Adeline to do more than waste away in that house, even though Adeline is a successful write who has traveled around the country after quitting college. This inconsistency is also not noted. Adeline's mom refers to Adeline's grandma as worthless and Adeline tells her to fuck off.

This could be meant to portray narcissistic abuse, except even within Adeline's internal monologue we get no indication that her mom is being inconsistent or that the expectations she's expected to reach are extreme.

Parson's Manor is described in a way that creates an interesting parallel to Zade. The lawn needs a haircut; it's dark and menacing and looms over the woods "as if to say you shall fear me."

A curtain flutters and she doesn't doubt what she saw even though "nothing should be able to move [them]".

There's a lot of little traits that tie Adeline back to the author's blurb -- her love of horror, being a fantasy author (the author loves paranormal shows). I wouldn't be super surprised if she and the author are the same age.

Adeline comments to herself on being a successful author in defiance of her mom's words, so that does happen even if the timing is weird.

*Nana* got along with *her* mother. How *dare* Adeline's mom not do the same? It's very much giving the impression of a young girl absorbing the bitterness of her caretaker and perpetuating it, despite Adeline's insistance that Nana is soooo nice.

We get a random reference to Adeline's nipples because the thermostat was set to 62° and that's practically arctic. The narrative is incredibly insecure about Adeline's femininity.

"Nana used to say she liked it best when she was the brightest thing in the room". That's a really weird characterization tidbit given the Nana VS Mom thing.

We now get a scene of Adeline Being Successful. I have never been to a book signing but this isn't how I pictured one.

She's now described as being terrible at social situations despite the back of the book trying to make her sound badass.

Her book is the Wanderer. Does Addie also write self inserts? Self insertception.

(I want to pause and say that self inserts aren't a thing I dislike, just something I'm tracking because of my premise.)

Okay, Zade's visuals are kind of cool.

Her friend is bullying her into agreeing to getting laid. Super normal. She sexted someone on Addie's behalf, because that's not violating at all.

This is after some objectifying comments on Addie's body because again, the narrative is worried we won't think Addie is hot. But it does being up a weird thing I've noticed, which is that conservative women tend to be weirdly sexual with each other.

Probably because sex is a power thing as well as an intimacy thing? Idk.

This is the most stressful sex scene. How is this blowing off steam?

Pause to remind us that Addie has great tits

(We're on page 18. This is the fifth reference we've had to objectifying Addie's body from the narrative.)

"A *real* man" -- so now we're starting to broach the expectations Addie was raised to have of men.

What *was*the relationship between Greyson and Addie? Were they dating? FwB? Daya made a beeline for him.

Anyway, I expect he's dead now.

[ohwormwood]

the collection plays deltarune: part 1

noelle and isabeau share the same freak energy and i think its hilarious

-

i voiced susie it was a lot of fun :)))

[nekoo3001]

Aizawa from MHA429

[bumblebeebats]

As much as i love Dungeon Meshi, i do think that given Ryoko Kui's attention to realistic worldbuilding there ought to be a companion series called Dishes Meshi where they spend 2hrs washing and drying and packing away. Alll the goddamnfuck dishes they just made

[kuni-kuun]

Kunikida-san?

[north-noire]

perhaps catching up a bit wouldn't hurt?

[panties-on-boys]

i actually fucking hate mentioning IT and the person i’m talking to goes “oh the movie with the clown??” like. yeah. i fucking guess. IT IS THE LEAST IMPORTANT CHARACTER IN THE WHOLE FILM. IT’S FOUND FAMILY. IT’S BOYS IN LOVE IN THE 80s. IT’S BREAKING THE CYCLE. IT’S A GIRL BEING ONE OF THE BOYS. but i guess the stupid fucking dancing clown was also there. wasting everybody’s FUCKING TIME and killing RICHIE TOZIER’S BOYFRIEND

[akanemnon]

Shouldn't there be a minotaur in the labyrinth? Who put this goat here? This is not accurate to the mythology! /j

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MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[originalaccountname]

a little collection of Dazai being fascinated by Chuuya fighting

[nyan-bynary]

Anyway brainrot time