#apprentice ariadne

[hoaxghost]

Is your demon oc Ariadne an assistant/apprentice to Stolforns?

Astute observation! Didn't think people woulda given thought to Ariadne since I don't talk bout her much.

She was part of a shared universe I had with an old friend that featured a lot of my demon ocs + Tiff. She was actually Stolforn's daughter created through a dark magic spell where a doll is imbued with life. He wasn't really the best dad in the world alas... but due to File Recovery becoming it's own separate thing, Ariadne's origin just didn't fit with anything anymore so she was kinda cut.

I can still see her being an assistant to Stolforns but she's no longer his canonical daughter.

[marcoritasdorm]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

UNIQUE MAGIC

Cage of Delusion- The image of an object is changed to whatever Ariadne desires. Returns to its original form when the trick is realized.

🦋That drunkard butterfly has made its way to your window once again…

Cages for a million things Cages able to even hold kings That is the witch’s specialty Even if others find it disgusting But a witch like her was not always this  *yawn* -way.  She was sweet until a certain day A little apprentice turned crying fool when her classmates treated her far too cruel “Witches who look like hags Witches who make men gag Witches who have nothing to their name Those witches die alone and sad.” But back to the cage, those words sent her into a rage “No one to love the little miss, fine, I’ll catch something and make them mine!” But jokes on her, jokes on her! She will catch no one, not even a bird! For she lives, under lock and key In her own cage, and will never be free!

It flew away… And what a creepy song! If there was a scandal about such a witch, you’re sure that a classmate would have told you about it. Hm, asking one of the more magically attuned students about such an event might be worth a try…

[ariadnelives]

Dokkaebi Fire - A Short Story

Author's Note: The bulk of this story takes place during the events of "Force Majeure," directly between chapters 8 and 9, during the crew's time in hiding in Xiagu. It is not intended to be read in sequence. If you'd like to catch up on the series so far, you can do so on ao3 or tumblr.

“Cookie?” Pilar called into the flat as she entered, not waiting to be let in. “It's me today. Ariadne's making final preparations for her surgery tomorrow, but she'll be by as soon as she's back on her feet.”

Aoibheann sat on the armchair in the living room, pointed at the television which appeared to be carrying a local news broadcast from one of Saturn's other moons. She had a blanket draped over her lap, and she watched the news broadcast idly, taking in none of it.

“Remember, starting tomorrow, Ariadne won't remember anything beyond the six-month point in our stay here, and we have to keep it that way, so, be careful what you say around her.” Pilar laughed without joy.

Aoibheann did not.

“You know,” Pilar tacked on, “I'm a complete liar. You could dime out the whole plan and I'm pretty sure me and Ari would absolutely leap for joy as long as it meant you were talking again.”

Aoibheann glanced over at Pilar wistfully, dark circles under her eyes, but said nothing. These little responses indicated their old friend could still hear them in there, that they could get through to her, even if she couldn't muster the strength to respond. She'd barely spoken since they lost the station. She was usually a tightly-wound powder keg, full of fire and passion, and she had to direct it towards her purpose or else she’d explode. Now, it was like all that fire inside her had gone out, and all that was left of her was an exhausted shell of a woman.

She seemed able to move around on her own, but rarely found the motivation to do so. She had grown somewhat thin and gaunt, as she only ate when fed, so every day, Pilar or Ariadne or one of her apprentices would stop by to see her and make sure she ate. Sasha had been spreading herself far too thin on Ariadne's project, but still found time to check in on her and monitor her physical health. Her apprentices had removed all sharp objects, belts, and shoelaces from the premises, but Pilar thought that was overkill. She had known Aoibheann long enough to know she would never physically harm herself. Still, it didn't make it easy to watch her torture herself like this.

Pilar sat next to her, and gently took her hand.

“I hate having to feed you this stuff, Cookie,” she said, opening up a small gray package she'd brought with her. “Replicated MREs. No wonder Baltimore and Beam went to a convenience store twice a week when they were in the army.”

Aoibheann looked with disdain at the lump of meat before her, served with a mush that could only be described as “prepared grain.” She hated eating it as much as Pilar hated serving it to her.

In their small hidden town of Xiagu, all of the food came out of the replicators. Xiagu had a surplus of energy, with its passive solar collection and years of nobody to use the stored power, so nobody was worried about the expenditure of creating food and water from reserves.

Back on the station, they had only managed to earmark power for replicator use two years previously. Like most spacecraft, all of the water fixtures were powered by replicators, generating as much water as needed from a stored bank of energy, which was in turn refilled by a device in the drains which converted waste-water into energy. The food replicator could make prepared meals, but crew members would only be allowed to use it if they could make up the energy cost. This happened pretty naturally, as everybody had to use the bathroom regularly and could credit this to their account, and had the handy benefit of encouraging people to clean up after themselves-- every time you emptied your trash into the energy-reclamation chute, you added replicator energy to your canteen account.

However, back home, most people didn't bother to use the replicators, because truly, Cookie's food was better fresh than anything they could produce, and she loved making it. Here in Xiagu, however, the replicators had nothing but military-grade “Meals Ready to Eat” and raw ingredients programmed into them. When the town was alive, there had been gardens to produce the vegetables, and people to tend them, harvest them, and cook them in the many small restaurants. Now, all that was left was replicators.

Cookie's star apprentice, Yellow, had been put in charge of the replicators while Cookie was indisposed, and had very few requests for anything other than the prepared MREs since they'd been there. Everyone on the crew was required to learn to cook, from Cookie, and nobody particularly felt up to trying to fill her shoes. Everyone had pretty much accepted meals of nondescript lumps of meat, vegetables, and starches on the firm belief that any day now, Cookie would be back on her feet, doing what she loved.

Yellow was the one in charge of food distribution, and had desperately been asking Ariadne to authorize them to reopen Cookie's kitchen, with her at the helm, until Cookie was well enough to resume her post. It's what Cookie would want, she insisted, but Ariadne was taking Cookie's condition unusually poorly, and had refused to allow the kitchen to operate without Cookie present. Yellow was frustrated, but understood. Nobody would feel right about having communal meals like before without Cookie.

Pilar carefully cut up the packaged meal and fed bites to Cookie, who halfheartedly complied with each bite. She offered her a cup of tea, which Cookie held for warmth but wouldn't drink without prompting.

“Look, Aoibheann...” Pilar said, “I know you're not well. I know this has been harder on you than anyone.”

Cookie met her gaze.

“But I don't...” Pilar began, and choked. “I don't think Ariadne will go through with this with you in this condition. She cares about you too much. You know what you mean to her. To me. She's not going to put herself at risk until she knows you're okay.”

Aoibheann looked downcast.

“She needs you,” Pilar whispered. “I need you. Please come back to us.”

****

Aoibheann's mind drifted back to when she’d met Ariadne and Pilar, thirteen years previously. She had been living on the streets for two years and had only passing contact with Pilar. She had been homeless since the Hanguk-Éire massacre, when Susan Weaver’s bombs had incinerated her family’s house and restaurant, left her and her mother destitute, and claimed her father’s life. Her mother had turned to drugs to cope with the loss, and ultimately found herself bleeding out in the gutter after an altercation with a pusher who she couldn’t pay for her latest fix.

She had distrusted the new girl at first. In her experience, another new person living under the overpass was another person who might get to the good scraps before her. She didn’t need any more competition. There was, however, a certain unspoken respect between her and the Aguilar girls. They were the only kids living on the streets of that particular block, and they had to look out for one another. They didn’t talk much, but they had struck up an arrangement. Pilar needed to go foraging to keep Sasha fed, and knowing that she would have to dig through trash bins and steal from loosely-guarded shops to make this happen, she felt it was too dangerous to bring her nine-year-old sister along with her.

So, she struck up an arrangement with Aoibheann: if she kept Sasha safe while she went out on runs, Pilar would try and steal a little extra food so Aoibheann could eat as well. Pilar and Sasha had been squatting in an abandoned house on a nearby side-street, and Aoibheann could crash there in exchange for keeping an eye on Sasha. It was shelter, and food, and it was a better deal than she was getting anywhere else. Under normal circumstances, Aoibheann would’ve developed a mighty crush on Pilar, but crushes were the sorts of things normal girls got to have. Aoibheann needed to focus on staying alive.

The new girl had been Racquel when they met. She had been raving about how the world was going to end, a secret conspiracy to reign atomic hellfire onto the bio-domes. It was the standard fare of the doomsaying lunatic, so nobody paid her much mind, but she’d named Ramos and Ramos specifically in her raving, and that caught Pilar’s attention. Nobody hated the Ramoses like Pilar, although Aoibheann didn’t yet know why.

So, Pilar and Racquel started going out on runs together. Suddenly, they were bringing back more than enough food, not only for the four of them, but they even got to share it with the others under the bridge. One day, they came home clean, wearing fresh clothes, and carrying a bundle of new clothes under their arm. They told her that Racquel’s name was Ariadne now, and that they would be needing her help a lot more often. They’d found some sort of mentor, who would “get them out of here,” but they’d need to spend hours, even days, with her at a time.

Aoibheann wasn’t a fool. She knew that if they succeeded in getting out of here, that she would be left behind. She couldn’t, however, risk being thrown out on the street. She’d watch Sasha and crash on the floor of this abandoned townhouse as long as they’d let her.

Sasha seemed like such a little kid then, although Aoibheann knew on a logical level that she was only three years older.

“If you could be anything in the world when you grow up,” Sasha had asked her one day, while the other girls had been away at their mysterious mentor’s for a few days, “what would you be?”

“I’m just trying to grow up,” Aoibheann said, “if I can make it that far, I’ll see what I can get.”

Sasha scrunched her nose. “You’re not playing the game right.”

“I’m being realistic,” Aoibheann said.

Sasha breezed past this. “I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up.”

Aoibheann considered pointing out that Sasha had a third-grade education and no money, but thought better of it, and instead just sighed. “Well, it’d be a crying shame if you starved to death before then,” she said. “Let’s see what your sister left us.”

Aoibheann looked at the handful of scraps Pilar had left on the table. Pilar had stolen them an entire rotisserie chicken, which Aoibheann had admonished her for-- the abandoned house did not have a working refrigerator, she pointed out, so she’d have to use the meats straightaway or they would quickly spoil and attract flies-- and several cans of diced white potatoes, which Pilar figured would keep Sasha’s stomach full, but Aoibheann pointed out had very little nutritional value. This was, of course, in addition to the six chocolate bars Pilar had, being thirteen years old, been sure to nab on her little excursion.

Aoibheann had nothing in the way of seasonings, except for a variety of salt and pepper packets she’d taken from a loosely-supervised outdoor seating area at a nearby restaurant, as well as, on one extremely lucky day, three sets of cheap silverware and a bottle of hot sauce.

She did, however, have access to a small metal trash can with a lid, water from a neighbor’s hose spigot-- Aoibheann felt bad about this, because water was so tightly regulated on Mars and the owner would surely be steeply charged for the waste, but this was a low priority compared to their survival-- and an old gas stove that the new girl had rigged up to illegally supply them with heat.

Aoibheann had cut the meat off the bones of the rotisserie chicken and plopped the bones into the cold water with all the fat and gristle, and opened up a few of the salt packets into the mixture. She put it on the stove and let it heat up to a boil, then turned down the gas and watched as the mixture turned a translucent yellow. She eventually fished out the bones with her knife, and dumped all the potatoes, and the meat from the chicken, into the broth.

After it had stewed for a while, Aoibheann took a taste. It was thin, watery, and somewhat bland, but it would do for the time being. Using the now-empty potato cans, she scooped out two servings of soup and handed one to Sasha.

“Now, we just have to keep it just hot enough,” Aoibheann said, “and it won’t go bad. We’ll be able to eat this until your sister gets back.”

Sasha took a taste. “It’s…” she had been taught, if she had nothing nice to say, to say nothing at all, so she didn’t finish her sentence. Aoibheann had spent enough time with her to know what she meant.

“It’s a tick bland like this,” Aoibheann shrugged, passing her the hot sauce. “Give it a dash of this, it’ll be a sight better.”

Sasha complied, tasted it, and her face made it clear that while it was in fact a sight better, it still wasn’t quite tasty.

“My mom used to make potatoes with a cheesy sauce,” Sasha said sadly. “They were really spicy. Pilar’s favorite food.”

“My dad was more of a cabbage man,” Aoibheann said. “My mom handled the meats, him the veggies. Hanguk-Éire cuisine is… all about things coming together in the pot.”

Sasha added a little more hot sauce to her soup.

“I wanted to be a cook,” Aoibheann said. “Like my folks, before, all this. My dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. And so on and so on, all the way back to our homelands.”

“You could still be a cook,” Sasha said, eyeing her soup. “...someday.”

“Well, we’ll have to get your sister to scrounge us up some quality ingredients, then, won’t we?” Aoibheann said.

The two of them finished their soup, and Aoibheann noted that it was getting late, and insisted that Sasha go to bed. Sasha refused without a story, and Aoibheann tossed back a “tough titties” which was met with an infuriatingly irresistible pout.

“FINE,” Aoibheann groaned, and improvised a story.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom,” Aoibheann began. This was how all her stories began, they all took place in this kingdom. “The kingdom, you see, had been through every horror you could put a kingdom through. It had been invaded. It had been burned. It had been taken over and torn in half and put back together again more times than you could count. Every evil overlord you could name had taken the place over, at one time or another. So the people in the kingdom, they were always sad, and they started to wonder, would they ever be free? And then, one day, they found out, there was another kingdom, just like them, halfway round the world, and they decided to join forces. But then, after a few decades of unity and prosperity, the entire world fell into darkness, and the people of the two kingdoms had to run. They ran far away, and found a new promised land in the desert, and built a home there.”

“Then, one day, in the new kingdom, there was a little girl who lived in a little house with her ma’ and her da’, and she loved her life. The dark creature from the old world, it caught up with them. It took her da’, and burned down her house, and she and her mother had to go out into the woods.”

Sasha looked scared. “The woods?”

“Aye,” Aoibheann said, “and her mother dear didn’t last long. There were these flares of Dokkaebi Fire, the goblin lights, and mother dear thought surely she could follow them to safety… Pretty soon, the little girl was all on her own.”

“I don’t like this story,” Sasha said, trying not to betray how frightened she was.

Aoibheann sighed. “Neither do I. But see, the story has a happy ending.”

“Happy?” Sasha asked.

“Happy enough,” Aoibheann replied, “for now. See, the little girl knew not to follow the goblin lights. She ran into the dark, and there she found… a brave, dashing adventurer. A gorgeous girl, noble and good, who’d been lost in the woods herself.”

Sasha’s eyes brightened at this. “Did she have a sword?”

“A little one, aye,” Aoibheann laughed. “And she was on a quest, to find a way out of the woods. But the problem was, she had to look after a sweet, wee little baby, and couldn’t leave it long enough to make any real progress. So the little girl, she’d faced all the darkness in the world. She could handle a wee little baby! She agreed to take care of the baby while the adventurer looked for a way to save herself and the little one.”

“Did she find a way out?”

“Someday she will,” Aoibheann said, “but all she found so far was… a sorceress.”

“This story has everything,” Sasha said.

“The sorceress was as beautiful as the adventurer, and sharp as a tack, but she was untrained. Powerful magic, but she didn’t know how to use it.” Aoibheann explained, “so, together, they managed to track down the Baba Yaga, a wise but crafty old witch, who could teach the sorceress and adventurer how to find the way.”

“And the little girl?” Sasha asked.

Aoibheann thought about this. “The little girl gets to spend time with the sorceress, and the adventurer, and that sweet wee little baby,” she said, “and she appreciates the time she has with them. Someday, they’ll find their way out, and she’ll still be in the woods, but she’ll always be glad to have met them. The end.”

Sasha crinkled her nose. “That’s a bad ending,” Sasha said bluntly. “The little girl should just leave the woods with them. Then find the creature that took her house, and kill it.”

“And how’s she gonna do that?” Aoibheann laughed.

“The adventurer and the sorceress will help her!” Sasha said. “Maybe the Baby Yaga can tell her some spells!”

“Baba Yaga,” Aoibheann corrected. “Okay, so say she does. Say she tells the adventurer and the sorceress everything that happened, and they go slay the evil creature. What happens next?”

Sasha thought about this. “Maybe they fight another creature,” she said. “An octopus?”

“Why are they fighting an octopus?” Aoibheann asked, still chuckling.

“It’s guarding a treasure,” Sasha said as though it were the most obvious thing in the universe. “You have heard a story before, right?”

“Fair enough,” Aoibheann said. “And then, say, they beat all the creatures. What then?”

“Happily ever after,” Sasha said triumphantly.

“Well, you’re a sight more deft at this than I am,” Aoibheann said. “Let’s get you to sleep, I’ll do better next time.”

Aoibheann swaddled Sasha in the dirty, tattered blanket that they’d found a few weeks earlier, sat out in the hallway, and began to cry.

In the present day, Aoibheann thought back to her sobbing in the hallway. At the time, she was convinced that Ariadne and Pilar would surely abandon her when they finished training with Blue. When they started building their first spacecraft in an alley under the bridge, she’d defended it from thieves and scrappers at knifepoint, even thinking that they would use it to leave her behind. When, against all odds, Ariadne had built a spaceworthy craft, she was stunned into silence when they invited her along.

“Don’t be dumb,” Pilar had said, extending a hand to her “of course we’re taking you with us. We started this crew to keep Sasha fed. How are we gonna do that without a cook?”

And so, Cookie had been born. As the goblin lights lit the way to ruin, Pilar’s hand pulled her onto the right path.

****

Now, Pilar’s hand was busy cutting up bites of nondescript meat and placing them into Aoibheann’s mouth.

“Do you remember… back in our street urchin days,” Pilar asked, “Me and Ariadne would come home from Blue’s, put Sasha to bed, and then you, me, and her would stay up late gossiping. We’d show you all the cool stuff Blue had taught us in our lessons, and you’d take the ingredients we’d stolen for you-- better ones, after you started giving me lists-- and you’d teach us how to cook like you.”

Aoibheann almost smiled, and Pilar saw it.

“Alright, you’re right,” Pilar said, cutting her another bite and placing it in her mouth. “Nobody can cook like you. Don’t let it go to your head. But you taught us to cook better than most people.”

Aoibheann accepted another bite wordlessly.

“You know, Ariadne used to use Blue’s tricks to fix up that abandoned house, Alan’s house, and I used to show you all the martial arts tricks, and you’d be rapt with attention,” Pilar said. “When me and Ari started dating, we had a friendly debate about it. See, I thought you had a crush on her, and she thought you had a crush on me. Joke’s on us, turns out you were more than capable of having both.”

Aoibheann came close to smiling again.

“Funny, that’s a fond memory now. Back then, it was the worst year of our life,” Pilar said. “Wonder what we’ll remember fondly from now, when we’re older.”

Aoibheann’s fractional smile faded away. She couldn’t imagine anything worth cherishing from this time. But then, she couldn’t back then, either.

“And we don’t have to talk about…” Pilar cut herself off. “I mean, the… what we’ve had together��� The unspoken closeness between the three of us. Rare as it might be that we’ve acted on it, it’s still special to me. To us.The problem has never been that we don’t feel about you, the way you feel about us. If you wanted... what’s between the three of us... to be more, it’d be yours in a heartbeat.”

Aoibheann looked down at her lap.

“We’ve always loved you, Cookie,” she explained. “And don’t get twisted up on the definitions. Every sense of the word. Whatever you’re thinking I surely can’t mean… I mean it. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. I just hate to think that… I mean… we’re going into the most dangerous time we’ve ever faced. If something happens, to me or to Ari… I just want to know you know what you mean to us. To me.”

Pilar gave her another bite, and Aoibheann didn’t fight her on it.

“Do you remember our wedding?” Pilar asked, and laughed. “Of course you do. Hard to forget something like that. Do you remember how angry you were that we wouldn’t let you cook us a grand feast?”

There was a spark in her eyes that demonstrated that she had not, in fact, entirely let this go.

“We stole the supplies for hamburgers from a local grocery store, and made Beam cook them,” Pilar said. “We actually almost got caught, pulled over for speeding on the way home. Ariadne told the cop her name was Ariadne Baltimore. Small town, local cops, everybody knew their parents, they figured they’d just miscounted the sisters, and let her go. Idiots.”

Pilar sighed.

“You weren’t allowed to cook because Ariadne needed you by her side,” she explained. “You were her maid of honor for a reason, Cookie. Our crew, our marriage, our family… where would we be without you? Would we even be us?”

Pilar offered Aoibheann another bite, and she didn’t take it. Pilar looked concerned. She hadn’t eaten nearly enough to be satisfied yet.

“What is it?” Pilar asked.

Aoibheann opened her mouth, thought hard, her eyes darting back and forth as though she was trying to make sense of something she couldn’t put words to.

“Aoibheann, are you… are you alright?” Pilar asked. “Should I get Sasha?”

Aoibheann shook her head vigorously. She had been lost in her depression for months, wondering if she was really better off waking up in the morning, but suddenly, the floodgates had come open, and she couldn’t wait one more second to let out what had been eating at her and destroying her soul ever since they’d lost the station.

Her voice was dry and raspy. She had not spoken more than two consecutive words in weeks, and her body vehemently protested the sudden change in this policy.

“Was it my fault?” She asked, thinking back to a conversation she'd had with their tormentor years ago. “Did I do this to us?”

****

“Excellent work today, everyone,” Cookie’s voice boomed through the kitchen. “The festivities went off without a hitch. This is an anniversary our captain won’t soon forget.”

“Thank you, Chef,” her crew echoed back.

“Dismissed,” she said to the assembled kitchen staff, and then quietly approached one of the greener pirates who’d recently started the galley rotation that was mandatory for the whole crew. “Libby, a word?”

Cookie ushered Libby into a small room at the back, which she used for prep when she was working on more intimate, personal projects. This was the room where she prepared birthday meals for Spacebreather, Ariadne, and Sasha. This was the table on which she’d painstakingly crafted Ariadne and Pilar’s wedding cake. The small walk-in freezer was the one where she’d had a brief, clumsy tryst with Blue on a rare visit to the station, after Cookie had enraged her by challenging her to a contest to see who could make a better mole negro oaxaqueño sauce, and then winning it.

Libby had been invited into the inner sanctum, and the look on Cookie’s face made it absolutely clear that it was not an honor.She was in deep trouble. Worse still, there was a salt shaker on the table in front of her.

“Do you think this is funny, lass?” Cookie asked. “Is this a fun game to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chef,” Libby said, actually looking somewhat convincing.

“The cap of the salt shaker was unscrewed. One shake, and dinner would’ve been ruined.” Cookie said. “It was your responsibility to set the table in the captain’s quarters.”

Libby got immediately defensive. “Anybody could’ve done that,” she said, “I didn’t do it, it’s totally unfair that you--”

“Anybody could’ve,” Cookie said. “But I gave you a responsibility. You were responsible for the Captain’s table. You signed off on a table with an unscrewed salt shaker on it. That makes you responsible for the salt shaker, whether you placed it there or not.”

“How is that fair?” Libby replied indignantly.

“Lass, why do you think Ariadne requires all crew to complete a rotation in my kitchen before they’re cleared for field service?” Cookie asked.

“She needs someone to cook for her?” Libby asked derisively.

Cookie sneered. She did not care for Libby, and never had. The girl seemed to attract drama. How, she wondered, could someone with so few friends be so perpetually in the middle of a falling out with a group of them? “And why do you think my standards are so meticulous?” Cookie asked.

Libby declined to answer, because she knew her honest answer would get her in trouble, but her face betrayed what she wanted to say: “Because you’re a huge bitch?”

Cookie answered her own rhetorical questions. “The skills you need to be successful in here, will be invaluable to you out there. You didn’t go over your loadout with a fine-toothed comb. You didn’t take the responsibilities you were trusted with seriously. You allowed your crewmates to operate with faulty equipment, that, had I not intervened, would’ve caused the mission objective to fail.”

“To be clear,” Libby said, “the ‘mission’ was serving them dinner.”

“IN HERE IT’S DINNER,” Cookie bellowed, her eyes full of all the rage and fire that she kept tamped down in her heart every second of every day, and slammed her fists on the table, knocking down the salt shaker. The chrome lid clattered off, and salt spilled onto the teak countertop. Cookie wordlessly grabbed a pinch of it and tossed it over her left shoulder. “In here, you fail in your duties and it means dinner isn’t very good that night. Out there, you fail in your duties and your sisters in arms die. That’s why Ariadne makes you work with me before you’re allowed to work for her. You can’t be trusted to handle the stakes out there if your team, and your commanding officer, can’t even trust you to do your job correctly when the stakes are only whether tonight’s chicken will be a little dry. Is that crystal clear?”

Libby looked as though she was about to protest, or accuse Cookie of being melodramatic, but Cookie cut her off. “Think very carefully about what you say next,” she said, “and if you’re lost as to what answer I’m looking for...” She pointed at the band that she kept tied around her head, so that even if one of her brilliant red hairs slipped out of its tight bun, it would still not fall into her face. It was white, and said, in bold black text, “YES CHEF.”

Libby grumbled. “Yes, chef,” she said. “next time, I’ll check the table settings more carefully.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cookie said. “But I think it’s important that you know… I know you put the shaker on the table.”

“What?!” Libby snapped.

“If the Captain, or her first mate, were to be poisoned, I would need to be able to verify who’d done the deed.” Cookie said. “Every step of my meal preparation is accounted for. There is a record of every action taken in this kitchen, cupboard-to-table. If something goes wrong with a meal, within seconds I will be able to identify the point of failure and exactly who was responsible for preventing it. Of course, it helps to have a private video feed into the captain’s quarters.”

Cookie tossed her communications device onto the table, and hit play. It projected a small, but surprisingly clear, hologram of Libby setting the table, smirking as though struck with an idea, and unscrewing the cap of the salt shaker.

“You have… a security camera… in their quarters?!” Libby asked.

“I’m the only person in the system they trust with it,” Cookie said. “I trust them with my life, and they trust me with theirs. Now, I gave you a chance to confess to your little prank, and you decided to lie, to pass the buck onto someone else. I’m afraid I can’t let that slide. I’ll have to fail you for this rotation. Come back at the start of the next one and you can reapply.”

“What?!” Libby snapped again. “I’m two days away from finishing! I have to start my galley rotation over again just because you caught me playing a harmless prank on your little pervy peep-show?”

“Call it pervy if you like,” Cookie said dismissively. “The nature of my relationship with the captain and her first mate is enthusiastically sanctioned and is, frankly, none of your concern. The behavior you showed in here, would’ve only spoiled Captain Ariadne’s dinner. If you showed the same level of carelessness and irreverence out there, it might’ve gotten someone killed. ‘Harmless’ indeed. You’re not responsible enough for field work until you can prove you can handle kitchen duty.”

“This is bullshit,” Libby said, gathering up her things to storm out of the room. “Like it even matters whether that bitch’s little dinner is ruined.”

Cookie slammed her fists on the counter again.

“Captain Ariadne is the greatest woman who ever lived,” Cookie growled, “and if I hear you speak of her like that in my presence again, you’ll lose a hell of a lot more than your galley rotation.”

Libby moved to storm out, but Cookie rushed the door and held it shut.

“Now, you listen to me, you little twerp,” Cookie said, jabbing a finger into Libby’s chest, shaking with anger. “That woman pulled me out of the gutter-- pulled all of us out of the gutter. There is nothing more important than the work she does, and we are the beating heart that allows her to do it. So if you want to be a part of this crew, you’ll show her some goddamned respect and start taking your work fucking seriously.”

Libby looked furious.

“What do I want to hear?” Cookie asked pointedly.

Pilar was astonished. “You think… because you were hard on the Nameless in her galley rotation… that she went totally off the rails, tried to kill us, and drove us out of our home?”

“Yes, chef,” Libby grumbled after a beat, and Cookie allowed her to pass.

****

“She tried to say we were like a cult,” Cookie said weakly. “That we were just minions blindly following Ariadne’s orders. That we turned against anybody who didn’t fall in line.”

“Is any of that true?” Pilar asked rhetorically. “Does the crew actually act like that?”

Cookie let the tears come. “I do,” she said. “What if she… how do I know she isn’t holding my devotion, my zeal, against the entire crew?”

“You… blindly follow Ariadne’s orders?” Pilar asked, entirely rhetorically. “That’s a surprise, I thought you really believed in our mission.”

Cookie was taken aback. “I do!’

Pilar smiled. “There’s some of that fire,” she said. “I’ve missed it. Aoibheann… when is the last time Ariadne actually gave you an order?”

Cookie had to think about this, but came up short.

“Exactly,” Pilar said. “This is what’s been eating you, all this time?”

Aoibheann looked afraid to reply, so she just asked what she’d wanted to ask, ever since they were driven out of their home.

“Do you forgive me?” She asked. “Does she… does she forgive me?”

Pilar looked Aoibheann square in the eyes. “Cookie, you’ve never needed our forgiveness. An insane terrorist attacked our home. There’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent that.”

This was not what Aoibheann wanted to hear.

Pilar sighed. “Of course we forgive you, Aoibheann,” she said in a voice that sounded entirely earnest, but using words that betrayed how sarcastic she was being: “for not allowing someone who turned out to be a sexual predator and an actual serial killer tamper with our food and ruin our anniversary. We forgive you for being the most devoted friend we’ve ever had. Because someone else mistreated us, it must’ve been wrong that you treated us right. We will always forgive you for loving us, Aoibheann. You will never lose our forgiveness for that.”

Aoibheann was struck speechless again.

“Don’t go quiet on me,” Pilar said affectionately, “I just got you to talk again! I’ve missed your voice.”

“I appreciate your taking care of me,” Cookie admitted, “while I’ve been… not myself.”

Pilar gently put her hand on Aoibheann’s, and gave it a squeeze, and then told her the most reassuring truth she had.

“The Nameless is a user,” she said. “She wants a bunch of people who act like puppets and put her well-being first. Ariadne spends every second of every day encouraging her crew to think and act for themselves, and to put each other’s well-being above all else. That’s why she thinks Ariadne’s a tyrant. Not because you defended her honor after a sociopath tried to ruin her anniversary and then called her a bitch.”

Aoibheann felt as though she’d just received absolution for something that had been dragging her through the muck for months. How could she not believe Pilar, of all people? She began to cry openly.

“Hey, hey,” Pilar said, “it’s okay! I got you.”

“I’ve let the crew down,” she said, “had them eating this flavorless mush for however many months. I’ll be back at a stove first thing in the morning, don’t you worry--”

Pilar laughed. “Aoibheann… Cookie, I’m glad you’re back but… don’t push yourself too hard, okay? Let your apprentices handle it for a bit. Besides, you haven’t walked by yourself in a pretty long time. It’ll take a bit before you’re seaworthy again, let alone fit to run a kitchen.”

Aoibheann looked downcast. “Well, I’ve spent enough time sitting around like a lump being no good to anybody,” she said indignantly.

“You’re plenty good to us,” Pilar said flatly, “just by being here. We love you, Cookie. You don’t need to… justify your existence by being a devoted servant.”

Aoibheann was uncomfortable with this sentiment, and it showed on her face. This was, after all, how she showed her affection for Ariadne and Pilar. How could she show them her love and devotion without being able to cook for them?

“I don’t know how to…” Cookie began. “Please… Please, just… tell me what to do.”

Pilar sighed. She knew Cookie was far too devoted to her duties to go completely without orders. “She and I will be back in a few hours, for dinner. Let her hear your voice. Tell her you love her, and wish her luck on her procedure. If you have the strength, give her a hug. And, most importantly, just… please, be okay. Be kind to yourself and take all the time you need to get back on your feet. We’ve only got the one Cookie, so take care of her for us, okay?”

Cookie smiled, and squeezed Pilar’s hand back with what little strength she could muster.

Pilar picked up the now-empty tray that the MRE had been on. “Now that you’re back, do I have your permission to start up the kitchens? Let your apprentices do some real cooking?”

Cookie nodded her head.

“Then I guess this is truly an event worth of celebration: you’ve had your last Meal-Ready-To-Eat,” Pilar laughed. “I’ll see you tonight, Cookie. I want to put some meat back on your bones, so I’ll be cooking, and I expect you to be looking over my shoulder and barking orders at me the whole time.”

Cookie looked at her and smiled, and Pilar’s heart melted. It had been a long time since anyone had seen that.

****

Cookie’s apprentices stood in a straight line at the back of the Hotpot Spot, an abandoned restaurant that Sweettalk had identified as her childhood favorite. Cookie, wearing the chef’s coat she’d fled the station in, freshly laundered, and her trademark “YES CHEF” headband, limped into the restaurant, supported by a cane that Sweettalk had fished out of her childhood home, and said had belonged to her grandfather.

Cookie was still not back to full strength, but her apprentices could see the fire they’d come to fear and love had returned to her eyes.

“As you may have noticed,” Cookie announced, the natural loudness of her voice undiminished by her time indisposed, “I have been… unwell, of late. As such, I am unable to resume my duties at this time.”

Her staff turned to her chief apprentice, Yellow, for guidance. Yellow remained silent, so the rest of them did as well.

“It’s alright, kids,” she said, stamping the cane on the ground loudly. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not my old self yet. It’s fine. I wouldn’t feel right resuming my post here anyhow. This isn’t my kitchen. I’ve called you all here because you are the apprentices most equipped to run a kitchen of your own.”

Yellow nodded in assent.

“As such, I have a new directive for each of you, until such time as we’ve retrieved my kitchen, and I’m back to my usual vim and vigor, each of you is to select one of the defunct restaurants in this town, take your pick of the remaining staff and any available volunteers, and you will run your kitchens to the standard I have taught you.”

Cookie sighed.

“I know what you all think,” she said. “I know what you’ve said to me, in the past. You think your best is only a pale imitation of my cooking. But I need you all to know that… isn’t true.”

“Chef?” Yellow asked.

“I was the fourth person on this crew, lass,” Cookie said. “The first person to join, after the founding members. At the beginning, we had one mission: Keep Sasha Fed. There is nothing I value more highly than that mission. I live for it, and if I’m blessed with the chance, I will happily die for it. We may have expanded the definition of ‘Sasha’ to include everyone we love, but this mission is and will always be my life’s labor. Food doesn’t just sustain us. It is love, in physical form. The Captain and the First Mate have been very gracious to me, in the time we’ve known each other, by allowing me to show them my love and devotion in the way I’m able to offer. Over the last nine months, they have shown me the devotion was not one-sided, and given me the love I was able to accept. So your mission is, as it always has been: get in the kitchen, and show your love to the crew. Fill their bowls with it, in the way only you can, with or without me. And when your cup is empty…”

Cookie choked up a bit, and did a halfway decent job masking it.

“...When your cup is empty, allow those who love you to fill it back up, until you’re ready to pour from it again.”

After a long, uncomfortable beat, her crew shouted back “Yes, Chef!”

“I have been derelict in my duties,” Cookie said. “I let you go this many months without loving one another properly, because you wouldn’t do it without me.”

“Chef, permission to speak freely?” One of her younger apprentices, a quiet young boy who specialized in pastries, piped up.

“Granted,” Cookie said.

“You never ordered us not to run the kitchens without you. In fact, before…” He paused carefully, then opted to leave it unsaid, “before, you always taught us how to take the lead for the rest of the crew, when you had to cook for the Captain’s table. We wouldn’t run the kitchens without your say-so because…”

“It’s okay, lad, no need to be scared of the likes of me,” she reassured him.

“We were ordered not to,” he told her. “The Captain was very clear: ‘There’s no crew without Cookie.’”

Cookie leaned on her cane and looked a bit sad.

“She couldn’t handle it, Chef,” Yellow explained. “Knowing somebody else was doing your work, while you were suffering the way you were.”

Now Cookie could feel her heart melt. “She said that, did she?”

The young baker boy winced. “She said that there’s nothing more important than the work you do, and that everything the crew does, is just so you can do it,” he said. “She said… well, she said she was derelict in her duty to you, and that she couldn’t replace you until she’d made it right. Until you’d forgiven her for letting you down.”

Cookie laughed. “We’ve known each other a long time, indeed,” she said. “The captain is a sentimental one, I’m afraid. She blames herself for all this. For my condition. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s still more Catholic than she’d like to admit.”

Everyone’s eyes flared at this. Of course none of them would tell her she’d said that, as they all valued keeping their heads attached to their necks too much. Cookie was one of the only people in the system who could get away with saying something like that in front of Ariadne.

“She could never let me down if she tried,” Cookie said, “and even if she did, I will always forgive her. That you can repeat to her. Now, that’s enough prattling on from an old fool. You all have restaurants to open. To work!”

“Yes, Chef!” Her apprentices all shouted, and broke formation to claim their restaurants.

“And remember,” she shouted after them. “If you talk to the Captain, this was her idea!”

She had, in fact, passed her forgiveness along to Ariadne the previous day, before her surgery, and assured her that she didn’t need forgiveness, the same way Pilar had done to her. After her procedure, Ariadne wouldn’t remember Cookie giving her consent to reopen the kitchens, but she was delighted that when she came out of it, she seemingly remembered, on some level, that she had been absolved of all wrongdoing.

She was relieved when, during the fight Alicia staged with her, Ariadne had suggested they put her apprentices to work in the kitchens. Despite being set back several months, she was done punishing herself, and letting everyone else punish themselves with her. It was a do-over many were not fortunate enough to get, and after all she’d lost, Aoibheann was not one to turn her nose up at a second chance.

****

Months later, when all this was over and Sasha’s medicine and a lot of good eating had restored her muscles into mostly proper working order-- she still felt uneasy at times, and preferred to keep the cane on hand, just in case-- they were repatriated to their home, the Nameless had been defeated, and the station had erupted into a celebratory frenzy. Yellow and the kitchen staff had burned the candle at both ends to supply enough party snacks to keep anyone from drowning in all the wine. Two former crew members, Baltimore and Beam, had returned to the station to join in the celebrations. Sweettalk and Sasha had, believing themselves slick, pulled Ghostrunner and her new girlfriend Vigil back to their quarters. Alicia had brought Blue back to the station and, in the haze of wine, loudly announced her intention to start a relationship with her, before disappearing back to her own quarters. Cookie and Blue had, despite their past rivalry, a deep, abiding respect for one another, and Blue was one of the few people who was authorized to do as she pleased in the kitchen. Cookie knew firsthand that after Blue’s enthusiastic and athletic lovemaking, she would likely need something to eat, and a bit more wine, so she’d set a bottle of red and a bowl of fresh mozzarella in conspicuous locations in the hopes that she would find them. Cookie was, uncharacteristically, not in the kitchen that night.

If she had learned anything from the past year, it was that she had to sometimes set the weight of the world down, and allow the people she loved to take care of her as much as she took care of them. So, as had become tradition, once per month, she would retire to the Captain’s quarters instead of her own, and allow her friends to show them how much they loved her. Pilar spent the day marinating meats, just the way Cookie had taught her, and Ariadne had built a heating element into her personal dining table so that Pilar could cook them some of Cookie’s favorite foods.

They would then retire to the bedroom for a night of passion-- Ariadne always had some new device she’d built and wanted to show off. Being married to Spacebreather, she was in the unfortunate position of being a bit of a pillow princess, but not on pillow principle, and so never had anyone else to use it on, and Cookie was the only person other than Ariadne who Spacebreather was willing to touch. They would spend this time laughing, and experimenting, and making sure not an inch of her, or the captain, went unkissed, and then they would fall asleep in each other’s arms, all the while gossiping and reminiscing the way they had back on Mars.

Sometimes, on these nights, Cookie would think back to what Spacebreather said to her, during her episode, about how if she ever wanted something more between them, she could have it.

The thing was, she didn’t want something more. She treasured these nights they had together, but as far as she was concerned, nothing had changed about what they were to her. They were her best friends, and they were her calling in life. She would, to the best of her ability, serve their mission with almost religious zeal. Even unto her death, she would prioritize keeping her loved ones happy and healthy. She had already loved them, more, she believed, than she could ever love anyone else, even when they had started an exclusive relationship with one another, and she was just a heartbroken teenager pining after them both. How could she want something more, when she couldn’t even imagine something better than what she already had?

The first time the three of them had ever fallen into bed together, years after Ariadne and Pilar had made it clear they were soulmates, they had been a ball of teenage hormones, propelled by a raunchy party game that had gotten a bit out of hand. Aoibheann had awoken mortified and furious at herself for daring to succumb to her own desires like this. Her whole life, whenever she’d allowed herself to love something, it was taken away, and that only when she accepted that something was beyond her grasp, would she stand a chance of being lucky enough to attain it. She was sure that by admitting to her wants, and acting on them, she had ruined everything. Except, Ariadne and Pilar noticed her embarrassment and simply chose to behave as though nothing had changed. It had happened only occasionally in the past, and each time, Ariadne and Pilar would wait for Cookie to bring it up. Otherwise, it was completely unspoken.

The one crucial difference was, now, Aoibheann “Cookie” Gyeong, once the saddest girl on Mars, had finally accepted that it was okay to want, and to act on those wants, that this was not following the goblin lights to her death as her mother had. She, who loved her life so much that she shut down for the better part of a year when she feared it had changed irreparably, spent most of her time refusing to acknowledge what she loved about it. She did her job, showed her love, and asked for nothing in return except for the ability to keep doing it.

“You know,” Ariadne said, running her fingers through Aoibheann’s long, smooth, bright red hair, as a sleeping Pilar cradled them both in her arms, “we don’t do any of this for you. We do it because we like doing it. It’s fun for us.”

Cookie laughed. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” she quipped.

Ariadne smiled, and told her something she’d waited years to be sure Cookie would be ready to hear. “Thank you,” she said, “for being my friend. For loving me. For making what we do worth it.”

Aoibheann shot a smile right back. “I could say the same to you.”

[yloiseconeillants]

me: i am so fucking normal about sidequest npcs with 6 lines of dialogue

also me:

so there's this 6 lines of dialogue sidequest npc in Amh Araeng that's like, a Traveling Historian who is investigating the Church of the First Light and he is so fucking cute and I love him and immediately was like 'i need to make this guy an alt or smth'

so I did that but I also decided that he was somehow related to some incarnation of Ariadne's on the first since we started talking about like, both Ronkan shards and shards around the time of the Flood of Light so I unilaterally decided that his great grandparents were 1. that Lugarhoo fate enemy but Blorbo-ified (it is literally just the Traveling Historian with a different hair color and cut)

and 2. the last heir of the king of the Laxan elves (??????) because I accidentally made pastel Medusa while fucking around in character creator with a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT shard concept

and decided that 'actually yeah I do need a pastel elf-' and then three seconds later 'and why shouldn't she be a princess that is actively seduced by the Shadowkeeper-'

with some vague aspirations of making her Forgiven Rebellion because have you seen that thing

*points* Clown Daughter. BUT I had ALREADY decided that the Current Ariadne Shards on the First were the Eulmoran Jongleurs because why not so said Princess could not possibly be Forgiven Rebellion without some major fuckery and I needed to stop stealing Fate bosses for Blorbos anyway so instead she was given plot armor to survive the Flood, which she needed to do anyway since she was, as conceived, the great-grandmother of my 6 line npc alt who I STILL HAVEN'T NAMED

I was content to leave it at "girl who fucks up big time and falls way too easily for Ascian plot in order to get laid and spends the rest of her life defending a village in Kholusia from sin eaters as penance' but the power of Yes-Anding and Friendship lead to Princess (now named Nimue) having

UNBREAKABLE BONDS OF CHILDHOOD FRIENDSHIP WITH KNIGHT ASPIRANTS AND A DREAM ALCHEMIST AND AN ANCIENT RONKAN WIZARD AND HIS TROUBLED APPRENTICE ALL WHILE DEALING WITH HER AWKWARD COUSIN

that like. her inevitable betrayal in falling for the Ascian plot in order to get laid actually HURT now??? like wow way to be the worst version of yourself and for what- like how to Justify the Plot and a Genuine Redemption Arc where before I was just sort of Handwaving Her Survival rather than actually developing a character

WELL glad no one asked-

but Nimue is under TREMENDOUS amounts of pressure from childhood to be the Last Heir of a crumbling dynasty (her father is a bit eccentric) that is facing threats from other countries, other noble families, and the growing so-called Elven rebellion AND she may or may not be haunted by the influence of a captured trickster god who whispers secrets to her it's fine it's chill. Said pressure has made her temper quick and sudden and she makes many, many mistakes she immediately regrets, but learns to recover from with the help of her friends, and her friends would also help her with the child that resulted from her foolishness with the blorbo-ified Lugarhoo that would be raised in a post-Flood world

and she ends up perfectly fine! Her daughter, Eglantine (Egg to literally everyone), is perfectly fine!

She's a bartender! Her knight friends visit often and help raise Egg who becomes the village's staunchest defender!

She's got a revolving door of traveling suitors but has a long-time partner who is dealing with the sudden redundancy of the shipwright business in a world without tides and other continents.

I STILL HAVEN'T NAMED THE FUCKING NPC ALT

[amysnotdeadyet]

When a sexy boy and a nonbinary hottie build a beehive together... Only in a solarpunk, magic, post-post-apocalyptic universe and alternate future London. This is a very chill book, there is a lot of tea, shopping, food, and a slow-build romance that takes its time while Jade figures themselves out enough to share. Some sex, but not a lot, and, of course, a cat.

I'm almost done writing the sequel, and it's the first thing I'm finishing for my "finish ALL the things" NaNoWriMo this year!

The astute fan will notice this was Inception fanfic for 0.7 seconds (or about 3 chapters) before I decided to shift some things around. Only 2 characters from the film are in there really, Arthur & his apprentice, Ariadne, and even they diverge from their canon characters pretty fast. Still, you can imagine JGL and Ari from the show, if it pleases you to do so. I also recommend young Tom Hardy for Jade, but that's entirely up to your discretion.

Anyway, read my books! Support living artists and writers!

[videogame-ocs]

Ariadne’s relationship with the crows pre veilguard (light spoilers)

Lucanis was essentially Ariadne’s celebrity crush. They never met but he was basically her idol as soon as she got taken in by the crows as a young teenager. She grew out of the crush….but….that might come back as something stronger 😉

Illario, she didn’t know personally but Ariadne saw him as Lucanis’ side kick ( sorry Illario, you’re actually cool)

Teia basically was Ariadne’s older sister, she took her under her wing, basically they had that dynamic of ‘partner‘s younger sister looks up to me and we get on like a house on fire’ vibe.

Viago. Viago is basically Ariadne’s long suffering older brother. He calls her an idiot, was constantly ripping his hair out at her antics, especially when she was an apprentice (she canonically was not a very good student and went out on late night escapades more than once) but he loves her dearly really.

Caterina was very suspicious of Ariadne. They never met until Veilguard, but Caterina knows who her father is and is very wary of her because of that. She never brings it up.

Zevran. Yep I’m talking about Zev here because Zevran fucking Araini is Ariadne’s biological dad. Neither know of each others existence (Ariadne was conceived after a one night stand in the brecillian forest with her biological mother Ashara some point after the werewolf thing on his travels with the hero of Ferelden and Ariadne grew up adopted by a tevinter woman and then in slavery before running off to antiva and to the crows). Ariadne really has no interest in finding out who her father actually is but….a part of her does want to know.

Bonus (spoilers below):

Ariadne meeting her future LI, Lucanis.

[mister-eames]

I hope you don't mind that I keep using you as a sounding board instead of making my own posts, but I always preferred talking about things with someone, especially when new to a fandom, and this feels more like a conversation. And I like to read your own opinions too <3

It's very interesting how Arthur and Eames are so prickly with each other at first, when they aren't really like this with anyone else (except maybe Eames with Cobb but we all agree he doesn't like him at all). And I think, in consideration of my headcanon about the first inception attempt, it's because there's so much unresolved baggage between them, the last vicious words they exchanged, Arthur's absolute radio silence while hopping around the world with Cobb (as well intentioned as it might have been), it made them both defensive around the other.

Also what happened with Mal shook them on a more personal level too and made them (or Arthur at least) rethink the merits of a relationship over the risk to end up like the Cobbs.

Though of course, as we see in the movie, the tension between them eases as time goes on and they remember how easy it is to work together, how bloody fucking competent they are and how in awe and love with the other they are. They naturally side with each other as shit hits the fan, and their mutual fondness starts to bleed through.

I like to believe they talked a bit, maybe during that week of waiting to wake up from the first level of the dream. Arthur was a mess of guilt since Cobb and Saito didn't wake up, and at some point Eames got tired of him beating himself up so much and tried to reach out. At first Arthur was reluctant to open up but eventually he allowed Eames to comfort him (there are some very good fics about this). And then they confessed they missed each other and apologized, and then they shared what happened on their levels and Eames was so in awe at how Arthur had been that he kissed him. And they agreed to talk more about 'them' once topside.

I do not mind at all, I love hearing your thoughts and analysis!! <3

It really is interesting how prickly their first interactions/mentions of each other are in contrast with their last scene together in the film, they'd really worked something out between those times -- and nothing like a little threat of limbo/scrambled eggs to put your priorities in order (flirting with your true love).

"They naturally side with each other once the shit hits the fan" - SO TRUE. I think, on a subconscious level, that's part of what makes Arthur/Eames hit so hard for me. Yes they've both been lied to and betrayed, but they're so in sync, they don't even think to suspect each other - they both know they would never sell the other out, they are the only person in that room that they can trust. It's never articulated, but it doesn't need to be -- despite their earlier bickering what doesn't need to be said is just how much the trust each other, this is evident in the movie - it's canon. That after all they've been through, after just being betrayed, I don't need to worry about trusting you. It's second nature. It's doesn't even warrant the question. It's us (and our apprentice and our fatally wounded employer) against the world, baybee.

And that week in the first level - I think it's such an interesting concept to explore, and one I admittedly tend to overlook. But I can absolutely see how that week and the end baggage carousel scene bridge together, if I think about it. I imagine there are a lot of games of dream poker with Ariadne and a lot of Arthur doing his fret-mother-hen routine -- your headcanon is absolutely lovely and I would read a fic of it in a heartbeat. Thank you so much for this, this was such a tasty and thought provoking read!!!

[enokvirkow]

It was a perfect accident. The best kind. Enok's feet left the ground and he was about to show off a dragon incantation — then he lifted higher with a strong power surge and his head struck the rocky overpass.

The immediate reaction was one of shock. Eloise rose to her feet and outstretched her hand in concern.

But then came the foreign tongue. Probably a lot of Galahdan cursing that would make the ocean goddess proud. Accompanied by a furious rubbing of his head.

That was when the shock faded and Eloise burst out laughing.

"Yeah, no, I'd rather not learn that move thanks. My brain is already on the endangered list."

Dragon Incantations were fickle. Like the flame of a dragon, hard to control. And he had specialized himself in other aspects there. Not the roaring of a dragon. And yet... he ha to demonstrate it. Because there was another Tarnished involved now. His young apprentice.

Enok cared for little beyond Ariadne and their race to the Elden Throne - and thus a better future and life for the Lands Between.

Yet he had found Elle. She was young and brash and... funny to keep around. She was as naive as Enok had been. And yet she also was full of trickery. he liked her. He had nudged Ariadne, who had been wary of this one and whispered to her with a little spark in his eyes.

If we ever are blessed with a daughter, I hope she is similar to her.

And thus he had taken Elle under his wing. Because her eyes had been set on the magic of Dragons - a magic that many pursued and few survived. He wanted her to survive, so he showed her how.

Throwing the girl a small accusatory glance at her comment, Enok shook his head and rolled his shoulders to hopefully get rid of the impending headache.

Embarrassing.

He should know better, he had walked the path she was set on to the utter grim end... and denied a gift that would have changed him forever...

"You will have to learn it, there is no question about it. I just want to caution you to be careful with it... as I demonstrated. You will lose your runes if you knock yourself out. A dragon's breath and roar might sound brash and loud - it is your duty to tune it as fine as the merchant's string instrument."

@madeofthreads

[crush-like-that]

you are Icarus??

I AM Icarus reincarnated.

Yall gotta know the story of Daedalus for this to make sense tho.

Daedalus lived with his nephew, Perdix. Perdix was something like an intern or apprentice for Daedalus. One day, Perdix was showing one of his new inventions (either the compass or the saw) to Daedalus who, because of his hubris, became jealous very quickly. Daedalus tricked Perdix and let him fall off the Acropolis. Daedalus was tried for his crime and was forced out of the kingdom, leaving him to flee to the court of Minos. There Daedalus builds a wooden bull for queen Pasiphae, wife of Minos. He then builds the labyrinth for Minos to trap the Minotaur, born from Pasiphae. THEN he shows Theseus the ball of thread he needs to escape the labyrinth and go off with Ariadne. Minos, upon finding out that Daedalus allowed the Minotaur to be killed and the labyrinth to be escapes, traps Daedalus and his son Icarus in a tower over the labyrinth.

Everything that happens to Daedalus is some misfortune of his own work. But it’s self made. It’s not a curse or a punishment from the gods. He does everything to himself because of his pride.

So now we have Daedalus and Icarus trapped in this tower, over looking the labyrinth on terrible horrors. Icarus is a child strung along in his father’s punishment. But he doesn’t know that, he loves his father. So day and night, while Daedalus works, Icarus plays. He looks out the window of their tower, up to the sky, because looking down would mean looking directly into the labyrinth. Icarus watches the sky, the sun. His father detests the gods and their power, Icarus knows that, but he still asks his father to tell him stories. Tell him about the sun.

Icarus, trapped in that tower, with his working father. Egotistical father, with all his greatness and pride. He has endless stories of the great things his inventions have caused, yet Icarus’s favorite stories are those of the sun and the creatures of the sky.

And then they are able to escape, able to fly. Of course, Icarus is delighted. After years of those stories, now Icarus is free, now he can live. Is there any reality in which Icarus wouldn’t have gotten excited? Wouldn’t have reached for the sun, in all its holy glory? Icarus’s father was Daedalus, the smartest, most prideful man alive. Maybe Icarus was tired of hearing his father’s stories. Maybe he finally learned to ignore his false hearted warnings. Maybe he wanted to have a story of his own to share. Of course Icarus reached for the sun. And he flew, by the gods did he fly. It was beautiful. It was all he ever needed

[milesmentis]

I saw @turbulentpumpkin43 do this for Ariadne and thought, why the hell not ... I always love a chance to talk about my Most Archetype of All Time Guy! 💗

(More below, but the rows basically line up to his looks, themes, and personality in that order)

Boromir (Lord of the Rings) - From the start, Daren's whole concept was "what if Boromir escaped his tragedy?" [Daren's relationship with Alistair is basically a direct inversion of Boromir and Aragorn]. I love Sean Bean to death and when I needed a comfort character to recreate "just for fun" of course it was going to be him. I have him to thank for Daren's tenacity, protectiveness, and stunning profile (and for teaching me how to love my nose by proxy).

Peter Pevensie (Chronicles of Narnia) - The character I used to temper him on Daren's second playthrough! He's the source behind his idealism, dry humor, and faithfulness. I had just rewatched The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe at Christmas for the first time in several years and reimprinted on Peter like a baby duck. If I was going to play a noble, I couldn't think of anyone nobler. Also they're both big brothers ... which is why I NEEDED to make Maeve Cousland canon.

Odysseus (The Odyssey) - I love Love LOVE giving characters classical mythology parallels, before or after the fact. This is a more recent inspiration ... I used to say he was my Achilles because of his struggles with rage and PTSD, but that didn't feel quite right. Then I realized his propensity for lying, bargaining, and above all enduring made him a perfect Odysseus. All he wants is his home and family back, and that's his reward after a harrowing journey, but it's changed and so has he. You can never truly go back :) .

Eliot Spencer (Leverage) - This slot was up in the air and for a while I strongly considered putting Murtagh or Jaime Lannister here, because I really felt like this list needed a villain. And specifically one that was charming yet had a very particular relationship with violence. But in the end I chose Eliot, because he has the exact right mix of self-aware control, gentleness, and absolute ruthless brutality. For Daren, this applies to both his battle prowess and political/social clout and he can wield both as equally deadly weapons. He knows how dangerous he is, so he's content letting the people around him forget from time to time.

Horace Altman (Ranger's Apprentice) - Just like Daren, Horace is a secondary protagonist and serves as the strong arm and reliable ally to the titular hero. He's a champion, a prodigy when it comes to warfare, and head-over-heels for the princess. While he started as a lunkheaded bully, he grew into an honorable, thoughtful man. I'm finally reading the last book in the series where he is in his late 30's and I realized that he and Daren got the exact same ending. All the way down to saving the world, marrying the queen, and having a precocious adventure-seeking daughter. Way to go, fellas.

Clark Kent (Superman) - I have been obsessed with Lawful Good Paladin-coded Heroes since I started reading Justice League comics at the age of 5. Although he has more internal ethical struggles than Clark (usually) has to deal with, they both respond to injustice with the same open, uncomplicated desire to save people and Do The Right Thing. Daren is, under all his stoic responsibility and PTSD, just a big fat goober who tries to hide his feelings so his friends never worry about him. He's used to being the strong one, the reliable one, and his most important and deepest bonds form with people who make him feel safe to be vulnerable and see the toll that shouldering the weight of the world takes. Also, they both love women who boss them around.

[just-horrible-things]

I posted 451 times in 2022

That's 81 more posts than 2021!

188 posts created (42%)

263 posts reblogged (58%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jaws-and-canines

@ashintheairlikesnow

@justplainwhump

@whumpsday

@magnificenthurt

I tagged 433 of my posts in 2022

Only 4% of my posts had no tags

#others' writing - 156 posts

#my writing - 124 posts

#meta - 38 posts

#au: chewtoy - 36 posts

#verse: resistance - 36 posts

#prompts and ideas - 31 posts

#others' stuff - 30 posts

#chewtoy!ariadne - 29 posts

#ariadne milonas - 28 posts

#unlikely salvation - 25 posts

Longest Tag: 112 characters

#wanted to try and convey night time with the colours but i'm honestly not sure if this works or is just too dark

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

They gasp and shudder in her arms, fingers clinging feebly to her shirt. When they look up at her, their eyes barely stay open. There's a smear of blood across their cheek. 

"Did…" they rasp weakly, "Did I do… a good job?"

She looks around at the carnage on every side. The strewn wreckage. The flames still roaring, close enough that the pair of them feel the heat. 

She looks down at their injuries, their torn clothes, the exhausted heave of their chest. 

She takes a deep breath. 

"No," she says. "You really screwed this one up." Against her shoulder, they wheeze a thready laugh. "Yeah," they agree, eyelids fluttering. "I guess… I really did."

85 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

#4

“What are you giving me?” the prisoner asks. The fever distorts his voice, makes it unfamiliar, like someone else is speaking from his throat. “It is called terizocam.” The mask and goggles and hairnet make the doctor seem scarcely human, but her hands are gentle. “I think it will make you better.”

He barely feels the needle. The drug stings a little as it goes in, but not a lot. Almost more an itch than a pain.

“... you think? You don’t know?” “Maybe it will harm you. I do not think it will harm you.”

The needle goes into a bag marked BIOHAZARD. The doctor puts a little fabric plaster over the injection site, as if the prisoner is a child.

“You don’t know,” he repeats. His thoughts move like oil. “This is… I’m a guinea pig.” “I am afraid so.” “You can’t do that,” he protests weakly. “It’s not… it’s illegal…” “Someone must be the ‘guinea pig’,” the doctor says. “You are very sick. With no medicine, I think you will die. This drug might help you.” “Or it might kill me.” “I do not think it will kill you. It has not killed anyone else.”

The prisoner shudders as the room flips from unbearably hot to freezing cold once again. He has been shivering so long that it hurts.

“I don’t want to be a lab rat,” he whispers. “If the drug makes you more sick,” says the doctor, “you tell me. If there are side effects, I will help you. I do not want to harm you. I want you to get well.” “But I don’t get a choice.” “No,” she agrees. “I am sorry.”

104 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

#3

Sources

Magic always has a price, and most often that price is measured in suffering.

The first of the sorcerers used their own pain, in rites of scarification and coal-walking, of harrowing and mortification of the flesh.

But magicians are enterprising creatures, and soon turned to sources outside of themselves.

The courtly mages use condemned criminals.

Any city of sufficient size produces a steady supply of miscreants. While lesser criminals go to the gallows, the most reviled vanish into the deep labyrinths beneath the palaces to fuel the great works of their betters.

Out here in the hills, life doesn't come so cheap. How often do you see a murder out here? Not in my lifetime.

Our mages take familiars for their sources, and never will you see such a miserable creature under the sun.

Some familiars are condemned, like their shorter-lived cousins beneath the courts -- sentenced by a magistrate, or purchased from a city dungeon and dragged out here to the hills.

Some are debt-slaves, paying off with blood and misery the debts they could not pay with coin.

Some are even apprentices, enticed with promises of power to call their own some day -- if they survive the demands of the master long enough to see it. Whether any ever graduate from such wretched tutelage, well, who can say.

Magicians are crafty creatures, and not renowned for kindness.

The wise make no bargains with them, and keep well away from the places where magicians make their lairs.

Who is to say whether the scarred creatures that creep at their heels were ever given fair trial, whether they owe a rightful debt, or whether they were simply snatched from shaded woods and lonely mountain trails?

We don't travel alone, up here in the hills, and we don't trust lightly.

178 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

#2

"See, you're worth a pretty penny, but not nearly as much as I'll get for bringing in the rest of your little nest. So I'm willing to cut you a deal -- you lead me to your hidey-hole, and I'll let you slip the net."

267 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Today's mood: gloves.

Stylish black leather gloves, fitted as close as a second skin.

Gloved fingers gliding over bare, vulnerable skin. Tipping a chin up. Gloved hands wrapped lovingly around a throat.

Fingerless gloves. Gloves with hard plastic reinforcement over the knuckles for more effective beatings.

Tough work gloves. Wear-resistant fibres rough and abrasive against narrow, bruised wrists. Gloved hands dragging a struggling body.

Black gloves, knuckles cracking before they get to work.

Bright coloured gloves, a distinctive splash of colour that will always remind the victim of their attacker's hands.

Gloved hands cupping the side of the face. A gloved thumb digging in under the jaw, digging into a bruise. Gloved fingers tracing over the marks left by the whip.

Gloves protecting the torturer's hands from their tools -- barbed wire, sharp metal, a hot brand.

Prison guards wearing gloves rather than deign to touch the prisoners they manhandle.

Latex or nitrile gloves suggesting that the subject is contaminated, too filthy to touch. Or that it's not safe to touch whatever substance they are about to be introduced to.

Surgical gloves.

Delicate formal gloves on a villain who doesn't like to get their hands dirty. Silk clad fingers elegantly curled round the stem of a glass, watching an underling carry out their will.

And then of course, the moment when their temper snaps and the gloves come off.

272 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ao3feed-briennejaime]

Evil Author Day - 2023

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/nmN2oUq

by c_m_li

I basically went through by WIP folder and each chapter is one story that is sitting in there and gathering dust while I work on finishing up my Dark Star series.

Chap. 1 is the index and the lengths of each EAD vary. Yes, the tags are a little all over the place. No, there's nothing I can really do about that.

Words: 6014, Chapters: 2/8, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Evil Author Day

Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Teen Wolf (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Moon Knight (TV 2022), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Static Shock, Inception (2010), NCIS

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Arthur (Inception), Eames (Inception), Catelyn Tully Stark, Ned Stark, Ariadne (Inception), Sansa Stark, Robb Stark, Jon Snow, Arya Stark, Bran Stark, Rickon Stark, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Quinlan Vos, Tholme (Star Wars), Jango Fett, Jaster Mereel, Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, Ygritte, Jethro Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo, Caitlin Todd, Jeor Mormont, Robbie Reyes, Marc Spector, Steven Grant (Marvel), Jake Lockley, Dick Grayson, Virgil "Static" Hawkins

Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception), Catelyn Tully Stark/Ned Stark, Jon Snow/Original Female Character(s), Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Claudia Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Sansa Stark/Original Male Character(s), Gendry/Arya Stark, Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Layla El-Faouly/Marc Spector, Layla El-Faouly & Jake Lockley, Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant, Robbie Reyes/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Dick Grayson & Virgil Hawkins

Additional Tags: Non-Graphic Violence, Mentioned warfare, non-con in reference to biting in teen wolf, Panic Attacks, Child Soldiers, Guns, Betrayal, Attempted Murder, idk how to tag this, Planet Melida | Daan (Star Wars), Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Stiles Stilinski Speaks Polish, Werefox Stiles Stilinski

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/nmN2oUq

[ao3feed-arthureames]

Evil Author Day - 2023

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/xdjHzlL

by c_m_li

I basically went through by WIP folder and each chapter is one story that is sitting in there and gathering dust while I work on finishing up my Dark Star series.

Chap. 1 is the index and the lengths of each EAD vary. Yes, the tags are a little all over the place. No, there's nothing I can really do about that.

Words: 346, Chapters: 1/8, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Evil Author Day

Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Teen Wolf (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Moon Knight (TV 2022), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Static Shock, Inception (2010), NCIS

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Arthur (Inception), Eames (Inception), Catelyn Tully Stark, Ned Stark, Ariadne (Inception), Sansa Stark, Robb Stark, Jon Snow, Arya Stark, Bran Stark, Rickon Stark, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Quinlan Vos, Tholme (Star Wars), Jango Fett, Jaster Mereel, Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, Ygritte, Jethro Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo, Caitlin Todd, Jeor Mormont, Robbie Reyes, Marc Spector, Steven Grant (Marvel), Jake Lockley, Dick Grayson, Virgil "Static" Hawkins

Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception), Catelyn Tully Stark/Ned Stark, Jon Snow/Original Female Character(s), Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Claudia Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Sansa Stark/Original Male Character(s), Gendry/Arya Stark, Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Layla El-Faouly/Marc Spector, Layla El-Faouly & Jake Lockley, Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant, Robbie Reyes/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Dick Grayson & Virgil Hawkins

Additional Tags: Non-Graphic Violence, Mentioned warfare, non-con in reference to biting in teen wolf, Panic Attacks, Child Soldiers, Guns, Betrayal, Attempted Murder, idk how to tag this, Planet Melida | Daan (Star Wars), Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Stiles Stilinski Speaks Polish, Werefox Stiles Stilinski

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/xdjHzlL

[enokvirkow]

She did not want to... at least she was hesitant. She had always known so much more about a banisher's business than him. She was the one who explained the laws to him. The natures of ghosts, curses and rituals. She knew everything... and he was just her apprentice. He had to listen, he had to learn. And Enok had always followed her instructions. If she called for caution, she had always been right.

But now...

Now was the first time Enok wanted to argue back. And vehemently.

His face distorted into pain again, as he felt another wave of desperation wallow up in his chest. He bowed forward, still gripping her hand and pressing his forehead against the uneven cave's floor.

"Please... I have nothing without you... if I lose you, I lose myself. That man I was... he will never return, if you die... you are my world, Ariadne. And without a world, there is nothing for me, I don't belong here, if you aren't here, too..."

The mere thought terrified him. To be without her... the few hours he had experienced thinking she was completely gone, before he had found her ghost again... it had been the darkest hours of his life. He had thought about simple driving his swords through his chest. He couldn't do that again...

His sobbing quieted again.

"If you really want to go... I will help you... If that is your only wish, I can't deny my love that. But...I will leave with you."

Ariadne closed her eyes. There was a feeling of shame that weighed on her, how easily she had taken from him. Though it was only a small piece, how many small pieces would she accept, small bites that didn't seem too much until it all added up. She could already understand how quickly she could lose control. How she could lose herself.

The process had already begun.

"The people sought help from two banishers... the nightmare proved its nature." Her foggy eyes opened again and she looked to him.

She could feel his grip, however distant the feeling, it was still there. Of course she wanted to be at his side properly to face what laid ahead of them. Of course she wanted her life.

But she tipped her head with a sorrowful look. "Enok." Her voice was softer. "The magic you speak of is brutal. Unstable. There is a reason it is forbidden — even if you succeed, you will have lost so much of yourself." And then there was her... the very real chance that she could come back... wrong.

"I wouldn't have you torn to shreds so that I might walk the earth in my body. Even if it were guaranteed, I would never sacrifice the man that you are."

[enokvirkow]

"You have a home here." Anja spoke quietly from behind him. Enok had been sat at the table lost in his own thoughts when she returned from strengthening the perimeters. The boy who never stopped his talking had fallen silent, guarded. Fingers that had been stained in dark, smoky ash reached to hold him by his shoulders with a measured squeeze. "Your purpose is here. You can be a protector. I would lead you to a life with meaning — you need only ask."

He didn't belong here. He knew that. But he didn't know where he belonged to else, either.

The islands he had come from? He could barely remember them at times. The rows and ranks of the witch hunters? Some had been like family, some like friends - many like enemies, ready to cut his throat. And the life had been hell. A purpose forced on them, he didn't want it at all. The forests here? he loved them. He had learned to love them, quietly, calmly. Watching the witch. Being with her familiars. But when he breathed in the misty air, his lungs sought the warmth of a seabreeze.

That girl with her silver hair. It was like she had nudged him out of a sleep.

Because for some time, Enok had believed he could stay here. Remain with Anja. Become her apprentice. Learn the way of the forest. But Ariadne had reminded him of a life outside of the thick dark pines.

Looking down on his own hands, Enok shrugged quietly.

"I feel like I don't belong anywhere... and I feel like I won't be good enough for your work. The forest... I try to listen, and you taught me how to hear its song. But I can't understand the singing. And I think I never will. I would fail you."

@anjaofthewild

[starryskylullaby]

two more because i just rly love coloring in this style and i love these two girls

@lemlynx‘s aisling as khloris, the goddess of flowers and new growth

@sunsetsorcerer‘s ari as hemera, goddess of daytime