#tharkuun

I'll be sure to search for some Kaleshwi stuff for you 😊

Blood - here's something fucked up from a WIP i'll need to circle back around to eventually

Leshwi pulls her arm back. Kaladin loses his grip on Syl at the motion. His hands feel numb. Leshwi surges back in and drives her weapon forward, and he has a second to appreciate the shock on her face as he doesn’t get Syl back in time to parry— and her lance punches straight through his chest. For a moment they hover there, Leshwi’s lance pierced through him, Kaladin hunched over it, wheezing, too shocked even to feel the pain of it. Leshwi stares at him in— in horror, her rhythm taking on an erratic quality. Clearly she thought he would dodge or parry the blow. Leshwi yanks her lance back out, slick with his blood, which pours over Kaladin’s hands as he presses them to the wound. It still doesn’t hurt. His ears are ringing. Syl appears before his eyes, looking panicked. Kaladin’s lashings falter. He’s— he’s just about out of stormlight. He is out of stormlight, and gravity catches up to him, pulling him down— Leshwi catches him before he can fall.

Surprisingly little bruises going on in my WIPs... I think it all went down in the chapters that have already been finished and posted 😂

For broken - here's some Moash POV from between shadow and soul

The thing is, the world is just better off without some people. And someone needs to step up to make it so. But despite the rift between them, despite the shadow of almost, despite the betrayal and the heartbreak and the world he can see where it didn’t have to happen, despite how he mourns the filing down of Kaladin’s teeth, the banking of the fire— Moash can’t ever count Kaladin among that number. The blessed honorable fool has done too much good and tried too hard to fix this broken fucking world for Moash ever to be able to think it could be better off without him.

I just halted a hyperfixation upon reading the words WORSENING DREAM DERISION— HOW DARE. HOW. After everything he's been through? He's the most compassionate, sweet, darling thing in this show, more so than Hob "fandom saint" Gadling. I love Hob to bits however if it was Hob lying on the floor, life choked out of him— our guy's first concern would NOT have been the 'dreamers being "hurt"', not even killed or anything, just hurt. But you know who did think first thing about his dreamers? That's right. Dream.

And Lucienne "fandom better than thou mom" who upon learning of Rose immediately was like 'kill the b' but you know who didn't, you know who didn't? Dream. That's right. Dream who was curious, sweet, interested. I JUST— HOW DARE THEY RIDICULE OUR SWEET BOY WHO HONESTLY just does his very fucking best in every turn of this show, only to be hit over the head eVERY SINGLE TIME.

Dream is the ultimate character, he is so full of EVERYTHING, he is so lovely, he is so good. He is a character who despite everything he had seen, had experienced, had suffered— who by all means should have went mad long ago— still tries, still goes on!

It's easy to look at Death and say ANGEL (and tbh yes but also) her work is brief, she meets and walks them, but it's a one time thing. For reference, about 67.1 million people die a year. You know how many people sleep EVERY SINGLE DAY???? 8 Billion. You know how many a year?????? two trillion nine hundred twenty billion.

That is how many people Dream's mind tends to EVERY, SINGLE, YEAR. So yes, Death is amazing, and bless her beautiful wings, however her job doesn't even scratch the SURFACE of the complexity of what Dream does every single day!!!!! So yes excuse Dream if he's strict on his rules, that are in place not for personal gain but for his dreamers PROTECTION. Dream who doesn't allow himself ANYTHING, Dream who works day and night with no breaks, sleep or food— Dream who still finds it in his heart to SMILE somehow.

Like I'm just???? How???? Dare???? Just. Look at him??? He's so good??? Despite his own flash and blood conspiring against him. Despite his own parents giving zero fucks about him, he still finds the compassion to care for a single child's life???? ?? ?? ? ? ? Dream who tries, despite the restrictions in place to be kind??? Who, honestly, taken really logical and sound decisions all through the series????? Like????

Bonus: Even Dream's own name is a showcase at how earnestly he wishes to be seen as good. How much he wishes for kindness from the people closest to him. Dream, he calls himself Dream. Not Sleep, not Nightmare— even though he is all of those things. no, he chooses to call himself a Dream and wishes for his loved ones to call him gently, to call him a Dream.

This one has been such a pain to write for some reason. While it is complete, something tells me that it’s missing Something, so it’s remained unfinished since…September, now? But it involves a lot of musing about loneliness, the ordeal of being known and immortality.

———

But Eleanor didn’t have chance to fall for what he was before, for the mercenary, the fighter, the man who had little qualm about spilling blood to get what he wanted.

Did she know him at all?

Hob thought these parts were still him. He thought they were, perhaps, important parts of him too, but all Eleanor knew of them were stories told in a sentence or two.

(“You have soldier’s callouses on your palm,” his dear, lovely Eleanor mused.

She held his hand in her own. The difference between his—tanned, soldier’s hands just as she mentioned—and hers—soft, delicate, made for music and art instead of blood—was a strange sight, a beautiful study in contrasts.

”Yes,” he agreed softly. He was proud of them, of the callouses he developed over the course of his life. They were rough where he held his sword, where he drew his bow. They were marks of all he learned, all he accomplished.

Marks of how much he lived, too. That was really the part he was proud of. The body he lived in was old, frozen in time and a little worn. Scars and callouses marred his skin, and his bones and muscles ached with the age immortality didn’t erase when it was given to him. All of those marks meant he continued to live, meant he made the most of what he was offered—even if the Stranger didn’t quite see it the same way, if the disinterested way he listened to Hob’s wide-eyed tales was any indication.

His love hummed softly. She had a musical voice, dear Eleanor. Hob thought he could listen to it again and again. Bottle it for future use, and never get tired of it. “Where are they from?” she asked him. The question made him tense, but she turned ice-blue eyes his way, and he could do little against the curiosity that shone inside them. “I’m afraid I still know rather little about your life, my love.”

He was helpless against the look she levelled him with. Helpless against that curiosity, the sudden desire for her to know him. To understand him, and all that he was. All he had been. That was what love meant, wasn’t it? To know somebody and choose to love them unfalteringly, flaws and all?

(Part 1 of crepes) | Part 2

After my last post, I decided to break down any multi-part food mentions in a story to at least two posts, which is more time-efficient and also gives me a chance to talk about the recipes in detail. These are actually the toppings for the crepes in the story. The strawberry compote is not mentioned in the fic, but I added that because it's one of @tharkuun's favorites!

With Mother's Day today, I thought it would be a great idea to make the crepes for Mom and also as she has the patience of a saint when I tell her about Dreamling. It's hilarious how familiar she has become with all my favorite stories and authors, minus any NSFM elements (not safe for mom 😉). I told her I was making the lemon curd and strawberry compote the night before and she immediately said, "oh like you made the caramel for tiramisu for that other Dreamling story" 😂 (it was @valeriianz Scratch a little itch)!

Coming back to "nor bid the stars farewell", Hob and Morpheus make crepes in the epilogue, and have various toppings to go with the crepes, which I'll add in my next post. It's partially an academic AU but also beautifully deals with grief and loss.

"Bereavement leave. Such a small term for something so vast. There is a yawning pit inside him still, where Eleanor and Robyn will seemingly forever live." ...

"Part of Hob wishes to say that he would stay here forever, that he would lay at their side and melt into the earth, lay down in the green grass and remember when he loved them. But Hob still has much to live for, and Eleanor would not ever have begrudged him that." ...

"He will always like cars. Trapped in amber, sealed into his grave, Robyn will always love cars."

Hob and Eleanor's storyline is deeply personal to me, and these lines reminded me of something I wrote years ago:

"Like a firefly in the amber of my heart, forever frozen in time."

Aaahhh Ok. “Alright, Hobsie,” he says to himself. “You’re alright."

Now back to lemons. Here's a happy excerpt from the story.

-----

"Good. Good! I brought coffee, and I see you’re starting to make something or other.” Hob presses a to-go cup into Morpheus’s hands, and it is pleasantly warm. Smells wonderful."

[I meant to get two to-go cups of coffee but it's raining so hard today (a rare occasion), so I'm just going to stay inside and be cozy!]

“Crepes,” he says. “Though I confess I have not gotten far.”

“Alright, well, we have about an hour and forty-five until we have to go. You want a hand?”

“Yes – I shall make the batter.” Morpheus starts sifting flour into a mixing bowl set on a scale. “Perhaps start on the toppings?”

“What’ll it be today? Maybe…” Hob taps his fingers against his lips while he thinks, then: “Gruyere? And for sweet, I think we have some lemon curd and icing sugar.”

-----

I really like how these turned out, especially the lemon curd, which I made for the first time. I ground the freshly grated lemon zest with the sugar. After the rosemary sugar from my Dreamling cookies, this is my new favorite sugar!

As mentioned earlier, while the story didn't have strawberries, tharkuun likes crepes with strawberries and whipped cream, and so do Mom and I. So I added these and they look so pretty!

[ID: a cover with a background of pink hearts on a dark, reddish background with pink, neon text reading “The Monsterfucker Rec List: a Haven Discord Production”]

The Monsterfucker Rec List: a Haven Discord Production

Featuring works for Critical Role, The Locked Tomb, New York By Night, The Untamed, The Sandman (Netflix), and Voltron

Authors: @demenior | Demenior, @jelenedra | Ritualist, @ladyofrosefire | ladyofrosefire, @mischiefseven | mischiefseven, @notaficwriter | NotAFicWriter, @tharkuun | tharkuun

You can find the list in the link above (to a google doc) OR under the cut. The google doc has pretty formatting and a gif version of the banner.

Part 2 of crepes | Part 1

Alright, now that the toppings from Part 1 are ready, let's continue from where we ended last time. I made the crepes for Mother's Day with the lemon curd and strawberry compote, which had beautifully set by morning. The story continues:

-------

Morpheus yawns, absently pulling out ingredients to make crepes.

...“What’ll it be today? Maybe…” Hob taps his fingers against his lips while he thinks, then: “Gruyere? And for sweet, I think we have some lemon curd and icing sugar.”

They each set to their tasks, working smoothly around each other. Morpheus sips his coffee while waiting for the pan to heat up, batter smooth after being run through a sieve.

It is the love in it, he thinks. The love in the making of food for another to enjoy. By doing it together, it is a commitment that reassures Morpheus that yes, they are still here, together; that yes, he has the freedom of making food and choosing whether or not to enjoy eating it.

[This part is so real in its domestic simplicity and wholesome companionship, it makes me want to cry 😭].

They work in companionable silence until the table is set with a stack of lacey crepes, a bowl of shredded gruyere, chopped green onions, a jar of half-full lemon curd, and a small bowl of icing sugar.

[Thanks to @tharkuun for the tip of using a cast iron pan! The texture of the crepes is so much better and it didn't even stick like I was worried!]

He [Hob] sets quickly about demolishing most of the food laid out. He learned a while ago to ignore Morpheus as he picks slowly through one plain crepe smeared with butter, then another that holds a thin layer of cheese and onion.

-----

Here's where I added a strawberries and whipped cream version as the author likes them, although it's not in the story. The fresh whipped cream went perfectly with the sweet and tart strawberry compote and soft crepes, which disappeared in seconds! And instead of coffee, I served these with the amazing cloudberry black tea that I got from my dream trip to Norway!

Extra lemon curd crepes picture below because yellow makes me happy.

And... the end!

Thanks again to @tharkuun and all the fantastic writers of this community. Your words have the power to literally make things real, at least the food you write about!