#as a person who had been envious of her friends her whole life cassandra really stuck with me and I suddenly felt so seen by disney

[llamasgotoheaven]

In Celebration of Cassandra: The Princess With No Happily Ever After

(Quick Note: This essay contains major Tangled The Series spoilers. Read at your own risk.) 

I really appreciate Tangled The Series so much.

In more than a dozen ways.

My favorite thing though, is the way it wrote Cassandra, and juxtaposes her against her sister Rapunzel. 

Lemme explain:

Since the very dawn of disney princess movies... Since Snow White and Cinderella and Aurora sang about what they wanted and wished for, and pushed themselves to endure in their hardest moments, we always saw them being rewarded by fate for it.

They get a found family, and a prince who rides off with them into the sunset, they become a beloved queen in their kingdom, lavished with love and riches. 

That is a narrative so many young girls grow up being spoon fed. It’s the feminized version of the American Dream that was born of an era when war was so overwhelming nobody really knew wtf else to do other than survive the horrors and anxiety engulfing them. I can appreciate that for how motivational and powerful it is as a message.

That said, there is a bitter reality many of us know. Whether you’re a girl, any kind of minority, or a white man, odds are you’ve possibly had the experience of several consecutive horrible years, or you will have that experience sometime in your life. 

We all at some point have the experience of doing our damndest every day, of toiling to reach our goals, and to be the best version of ourselves, hoping deep inside of ourselves that it will pay off.

What happens when it doesn’t? What happens when somebody you love gets everything you ever dreamed of? What if it looks like they had it handed to them, while you had to bust your ass and get next to nothing in return? 

What happens when you have a character like Cassandra? A girl who from the start, was just as goodhearted as any disney princess is, and you as narrator throw so much pain and hardship at her, while she has next to no emotional support to encourage her through it all? A disney protagonist like Cass, who still does her damndest and then watches her best friend get everything she’s dreamed of, while not getting any of it herself? In fact she’s actively blocked from some of her wishes by Rapunzel’s victories.

Cassandra’s vengeful, understandably upset character arc happens. 

To top it all off she is being manipulated by an evil ancient spirit to be even more bitter. Of course she’s pissed and afraid by the end of the show. 

The brilliance of this lies in the fact that disney is again being self-conscious and reflecting upon how hokey their repetitive, somewhat commercial optimistic messages can get. This particular character arc is disney taking its old “dreams do come true if you don’t stop believing” mantra and turning it on its head. It’s subverting our expectations. What if they don’t come true for so long that you have a harder and harder time believing, until you give up? What if your friend is the one who has it all, who is a really good friend but still cannot possibly understand or conceive of the layers and layers pain you’ve been through?

I think this is something true of many of us who grew up indoctrinated by disney rhetoric. Particularly millenials, who had access to a lot of movies growing up.

A lot of us feel like Cassandra. Many of us didn’t get a happy ending once we grew out of our adolescent years, even if we did our best most of the time. This happened to some of us while we grew up in an americanized culture that told us we could have anything if we work our hardest and preservere through pain. Tangled The Series effectively said: “Y’know what? Those girls and those people deserve to be seen as well. They deserve to have their story told, they deserve to be empathized with.” They became self-aware of the fact that not everybody will or can feel a deep connection with characters like Eugene and Rapunzel, who always seem to bounce back into a chipper optimistic mindset.

To wrap this commentary up I want to end on a more positive note: While it’s true that Cassandra has suffered incredibly, and as is put in a place where she inflicts pain on the people who care on her herself... She manages to forgive herself, and to move on to carve her own path. She removes herself from the life that’s making her miserable. She’s also incredibly resilient, indomitable and capable because of her negative experiences. They turned into opportunities for growth, maturity and self-reflection. I’m convinced that because Cassandra is so powerful when she’s self-isolating and bitter, she can be unbeatable once she accepts the help and love she deserves. 

Hopefully we can all bounce back the way Cass does in the finale, and gradually let go of the pain to become less cynical and more wise individuals.

Maybe we can let love in again, and accept that we’re incredible with our without our dreams coming true, 

We should by no means overglamorize hardship, or seek it out, but maybe our fairy godmother not showing up to save us is a different type of happily ever after. It’s a happily ever after that is nuanced, self made, and realistic. It’s one that prepares us for the volatility of life outside of traditional fairy tales, and doesn’t disappoint us when the universe is unfair.

[shannaraisles]

Set in Darkness

Chapter: 45 Author name: ShannaraIsles Rating: M Warnings: Language! Summary: She’s a Modern Girl in Thedas, but it isn’t what she wanted. There’s a scary dose of reality as soon as she arrives. It isn’t her story. People get hurt here; people die here, and there’s no option to reload if you make a bad decision. So what’s stopping her from plunging head first into the Void at the drop of a hat?

Fair Warning

Mornings in Skyhold were an education in the myriad wonders of mortal man.

Take Iron Bull, for example. Every morning, those still sleeping in the tents were roused by the sound of the big Qunari breaking the ice on the communal water butt with his head, and swearing like a sailor as the frigid water tricked down to his pants. It wasn't uncommon to hear fresh icicles breaking off his horns as he went to wake the Chargers.

The next to wake after him were usually the warriors - Cassandra, Blackwall, Cullen. Which, of course, meant that Rory was also invariably one of the first to rise. But where she would sit huddled under a blanket with a mug of steaming tea, they seemed to think running drills was the perfect way to wake up. It wasn't that she couldn't appreciate their dedication and skill; she just didn't approve of the display of energy at such an ungodly hour. They were inevitably joined by Kaaras and Rylen, and other officers, exerting themselves until they actually steamed in the icy dawn.

As the sun began to peek into the courtyards, Evy would crawl under Rory's blanket with her, and not long after, Dorian generally joined them. The Tevinter mage wasn't much of a talker before breakfast, usually focused on taming his hair and mustache in sleepy silence, his eyes following the energetic warriors with vaguely envious disgust for their display of prowess. Varric wasn't silent when he roused himself, though he tended to limit himself to muttering his complaints as he went about his morning routine. To hear the grumpy dwarf tell it, the whole world just felt wrong, and only a cup of ale and a round of toasted cheese could make it right.

Josephine and Leliana emerged only when breakfast was ready to be served, each perfectly turned out, not a hair out of place, and by that point, Rory was usually working to rouse her patients so they could wash and breakfast. Some needed help with both, which meant she herself tended to be among the last to eat. Solas, Cole, and Vivienne breakfasted apart from the main throng, sometimes not becoming evident among the bustle of people until the sun was high in the sky. And eventually Sera would drag herself out of her blankets around mid-morning, well after everyone else was already about their business, and threaten to camp out in the kitchens unless someone fed her.

Thankfully, the Orlesian nobles who had started to arrive at Skyhold got up even later than Sera did, so they missed these fascinating insights into the early workings of the Inquisition. Just as well, really. Some people really weren't made to cope with seeing Inquisitor Adaar burn his tongue on his tea every morning without fail, and turn the air blue cursing about it. But Rory found that she enjoyed these layered wake ups. For someone who had hated early mornings for most of her life, it was a strange feeling. It wouldn't last, though - the rooms of the fortress were quickly becoming habitable. Soon, they wouldn't see each other until breakfast at the earliest.

Of course, as the days passed, there were more people to add to this morning routine. The merchants, who gossiped and chattered through their yawns; the new recruits under Cullen's immediate command, who swore and complained but dragged themselves out of tents to run laps before being allowed to eat; Master Dennet and his stable-hands, who made sure their four-legged charges were fed, watered, and already exercising before Bull attacked the water butt each morning. And eventually, the alchemists and apothecaries, some of whom had been up all night to tend the stills.

Elan Ve'mal, a member of the College of Herbalists, was the undisputed senior when it came to the small army of apothecaries, assistants, and Tranquil. She had apparently been in contact with Adan while he was in Haven; when she arrived, she had immediately sought out Rory and her team, quick to put her people to work on replenishing the Inquisition's stock of potions for healing and soothing various ailments. Only when that was done would the elven woman countenance using her equipment for other potions, such as the contraceptive Granthis had given Rory the recipe for what felt like an age ago. Elan had even gone out of her way to improve it, distilling the formula down until the dose was only a mouthful a day. That meant the healers would be able to give out potion bottles that would last a sensible woman a month or more, rather than force them to come back each time they got careless for a fresh dose.

It was a relief when Elan finally told her the first batch was ready. Rory had already confirmed four pregnancies by that point, three of which she'd then assisted in terminating at her patients' request. Whether she agreed or not, it wasn't her place to judge. It was her place to be supportive, and to offer options that would not result in certain death. The do-it-yourself alternatives were too awful to even consider. Her method wasn't pleasant, but it solved the dilemma without killing the patient. Still, she was glad to have the preventatives to hand again. Even if a woman was certain she had made the right choice, the process of inducing a miscarriage was painful and traumatic. Far better to use the contraceptive than to put people through that unnecessarily.

"They're talking about expanding the herb garden," Elan was saying as the two women made their way into the cloistered space. "That would be a great help. Most potions can be made with dried herbs, but occasionally we need them fresh."

"I'm sure if they're talking about it, it's likely to happen," Rory assured her with reasonable confidence. "Unless some alternative is being floated."

"The sisters are pushing for the garden to be made a place of contemplation." The elven herbalist sighed. "I can't see why it couldn't be both."

"Probably because people who don't know anything about herbs would pick the pretty ones if the space isn't clearly defined," Rory suggested ruefully. "The noble visitors aren't exactly what you'd call considerate."

"That is true, I suppose," Elan said in a regretful tone. "And sharing the space might result in the Chantry sanctioning what we are allowed to grow and use."

"Mmm, they don't really approve of medicine," Rory agreed. The Chantry certainly didn't approve of contraceptives outside the Circles, that was for sure.

"I wanted to ask you something, actually," the elven woman began curiously as they passed through the cloister around the garden. "Why did you confiscate those leeches? Every other healer I've known swears by blood-letting."

Rory grimaced at the memory of the jar filled with blood-suckers that she'd tipped into the waterfall that morning. "The only thing blood-letting does is weaken the patient further," she told Elan. "There's only one situation I can think of where relieving that kind of pressure might help, and no amount of leeches can accomplish what trepanning does in that case."

"Is it true that even medical leeches spread disease?" the herbalist asked. To be honest, the question surprised Rory - she hadn't realized people in Thedas were becoming aware of cross-infection methods. The majority of healers seemed still to rely on the dubious four humors theory, which she knew was absolute codswallop.

"It is very likely they do," she answered her colleague's question easily. "It's not as though you can sterilize a leech. What it picks up from one person's blood, it can easily pass onto the next. Like fleas and lice do."

"And that's why you don't use them?"

"Well, if I'm honest, they also make my skin crawl," Rory admitted sheepishly. "But if they did any good, I'd use them. Luckily for me, they don't."

Elan chuckled, pushing open the door to her workshop - a large chamber that was very crowded these days. "You're too honest for your own good," she smiled, inviting the healer inside.

Oh, I'm really not. "Well, I need people to trust me if they're going to tell me what's bothering them," Rory pointed out with a shrug. "The truth can be hard to hear, but it's better than living a lie you're not even aware of."

"Seen in that light, it makes a kind of sense," Elan agreed, leading the way between work benches stacked high with bubbling glasswork, each potion watched over by her many assistants, Tranquil and otherwise. "You're sure you're happy for me to keep this recipe?"

"You've improved it," Rory reminded her. "It's more yours than it ever was mine. If Granthis complains, he can take it up with me."

"Oh, Master Perivale created it?" The elven woman nodded to herself with a smile. "He mentioned that he knew you."

"He's a friend." A friend that I wrote, but still a friend. "How is he?"

"Still charming his way through the ranks of the Imperial Court," Elan told her in amusement. "There are rumors that even the Empress patronizes him from time to time."

"You know, that really doesn't surprise me," Rory drawled. "No wonder he's on the guest list for the Wintersend Ball."

"Always has his eye on the main chance, that one," Elan agreed sagely, coming to a halt in front of a reasonably clear table, on which stood a small open crate packed with bottles. "Most of this batch has been sent down to the city, as you requested, but this lot should do the fortress for a couple of months."

Rory nodded, silently counting the bottles. Plenty to be going on with. "And what was the new dosage again?" she asked, wanting to confirm that she had it right. It wouldn't do to start overdosing her patients just because the formula had changed.

"Two fingers for a human," the herbalist told her promptly.

"And half that for an elf or dwarf, right?" She nodded again as Elan confirmed she was correct.

"I'd ask them to take the first dose in front of you," the elf added. "If they're already carrying, they'll throw it straight back up again. Because it's so strong now, a pregnant body will reject it totally if it can."

"Good to know." Better than shoving my hand up their hoohar or playing with wee. Rory lifted the crate easily. "Thank you, Elan, this is an enormous help. We'd be lost without you and your team."

"It was an honor to be asked to continue Adan's work," Elan told her simply. "Now go away, I have work to do."

Laughing at this no-nonsense dismissal, Rory obediently took her leave, retracing her steps out of the workshop and back to the lower courtyard with the crate secure in her arms. Cullen's table was gone - he'd finally been set up in the far gatehouse tower as the finishing touches were put to the newly-rebuilt walkway over the lower space. Most of the tents were being cleared, accommodations having been found inside for almost everyone. It would still be some time before Skyhold was fully put to rights, but they were well on their way. Kaaras might even have a room of his own when he got back from the Emerald Graves.

Offering a grin to Evy, who was learning how to shave a man in the afternoon sunshine, Rory ducked into her consultation tent, setting the crate down next to the rest of the immediate treatment potions they held in stock. Pulling her stool up to the makeshift desk, she absently poured a measure of the preventative for herself, swallowing it down as her attention turned to a request for additional trained staff for the infirmary down in the city. She sighed wearily. Who would have thought that the senior healer would have all this admin to do? Her daily duties saw more writing than seeing patients these days. Reaching for her quill, she began to scratch a note to speak to Roderick about it ... and abruptly stilled as a wave of nausea swept through her. It only took a moment for the shock to give way to panic.

"Oh, fuck ..."

Pushing away from the desk, she only just made it to the chamberpot in time, heaving up not only the potion but the remains of her lunch as well. The smell was revolting; if she'd had anything else to throw up, she would have done. Sweaty and shaking, she reached for her ever-present cup of water, washing her mouth out before slowly sipping to calm her roiling stomach.

"Fuck," she said again, with feeling. Her body had certainly rejected the preventative, right enough. But that doesn't necessarily mean what I think it does. Could be anything. Just check it out. It's probably just because you're not use to the brew being this strong, that's all.

Checking the toggles on the tent flap were secured, she found a glass beaker, and set about the business of collecting a urine sample. Thank goodness I'm wearing a dress today, was all she could think as she willed herself to relax. She didn't need much, after all. Just enough to run a test she'd done dozens of times for other women. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but she did manage to produce about an inch, trying not to panic prematurely. Washing her hands, she located the little pot of powdered Amrita Vein, tipping a pinch into the beaker with trembling hands. Now ... stir for one minute.

The act of counting the seconds helped to calm her down. There was no reason to think she might be ... that, not really. Yes, she'd missed the last month at least, but that was nothing new. Her cycle often skipped a month or two when she was under stress, and the journey from Haven had been all kinds of stressful. Not to mention, she and Cullen had been careful not to risk it. All right, so there had been that one time against a tree, but surely not. One mistake in the heat of the moment couldn't possibly have happened at exactly the right time, could it? That would hardly be fair.

The minute up, she looked down at the mixture in the beaker. Who ever said that life was fair?

"Shit."

[impalaanddemons]

Gravity - Part 10

Summary: Reader’s a young security officer (Lieutanent Junior Grade) who happened to be on an away mission and fall hard for a certain Chief Engineer. Both of them aren’t the most outgoing regarding their feelings and tend to just watch each other from a distance, which is going to change.

Wordcount: 1600

A/N: Writing that was hard on a personal level. I still think that the whole scene is important and necessary.

This fiction is set in AOS

Warnings: death, hurt, comfort, burial, fluff

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

„Lieutenant Cassandra Maximoff was, first and foremost, a friend to many of us.“ The words, though chosen with love and spoken while biting back tears, sounded hollow in your ears. You hated saying them, because they felt like a lie to you. Your mouth moved, but your mind was far away. If you concentrated on this speech, you’d break down in front of everyone gathered here. So many had come. You weren’t surprised exactly - burials somehow always attracted all different kinds of people - but it was easy to forget just how popular Cas had been. Your world had revolved around her for such a long time, you had forgotten to notice anymore. It stung. Half of security was there, it seemed. It was a stern faced crowd, eyes focused on you. You saw science blues and commanding yellows here and there. Some faces you knew, others you had seen fleeting by, some were unknown to you. There was Engineer Mihan - the man she had died protecting - and the stony expression of his faced was carved with guilt. His right arm was in a sling and, yes, there was a nurse perching on his shoulder. McCoy had probably insisted. Captain Kirk was there - he turned up at every burial. To your knowledge he’d never missed a burial, not when circumstances allowed it. Being in security, the division with the highest death rate, you’d seen a couple of burials already and were well accustomed to Kirk being there. And next to him was … Monty. He donned his grey uniform jacket with the choker, tight-fitted and accentuating his slender build perfectly. He stood there and the expression in his face was enough to make your heart overflow. With him, you would’ve been able to take on the universe itself.

„When I first met her, we were both in starfleet academy. Same year, but she already seemed capable taking care of everything the world would throw at her.“ Everything but this damn mission. There was not even a fire fight. You had gone in to accompany the engineering team, there was something wrong with the nacelles or whatever it was - it had heated up and they had been to slow and the fucking thing exploded and pierced her leg and scattered an arrangement of metals on and into everyone nearby that would’ve made an metallurgist envious. It was an accident. A stupid freak accident. One moment they’d been smiling and laughing because it was all a piece of cake that didn’t even require you to do real work. Maybe if you were more cautious … maybe you could’ve … no. There were no ifs and buts.

„Lastly, Cas would always believe in her friends. Her last words…“ you stopped and Bancroft and Mihan who’d have been there, just before the explosion, managed to smile and cry at the same time. „Her last words to me where a question. She had asked if I were going to ask a boy out.“ a grin crept on your lips and you felt tears running down your cheeks. A burial was always a last goodbye. Last chance. „She always believed that, even if you contemplated jettisoning yourself out of an airlock, you should never give up on your dreams and hopes. Never letting reality get the best of you. She was the person to strive for the best in not only herself, but everyone around her. And this is something that we should always remember, if only in her honor.“ Silence. You stepped down from the little podium, right into Scottys arms. His hands caressed your arms gently. The rest? The rest was ceremony. Captain Kirk stood up to say a few words about starfleet and the line of duty, but you didn’t listen anymore. „Goodbye, Cas. I’ll try not to make an ass out of myself without you.“ you whispered.

A burial always provided a closure, even if people thought they didn’t need one. It was some sort of a reset button that would allow you to finally ease back into a daily routine. Of course it would never be the same as before - it was the nature of a loss to fundamentally affect your life. Nonetheless you eased back into routine, even if it wasn’t the one you were used to. There were slight changes that would catch you off guard sometimes, but as time passed and shore leave approached it got slowly better. First you started patrolling again, the easiest of all your duties. Patrols on alpha gave you a great opportunity to see and meet people all over. Beta was always busy. Nightshift were the times to ponder on life and coming shore leave. Discussions amongst operation where to take the party to on Yorktown were already heated. There were a couple of clubs that had been suggested by crew members who’d already been to Yorktown, but the debate would surely dominate mess hall for the next couple of days until arrival. You had decided not to interfere, as you would attend day one of the party - but had planned on spending at least some amount of time with your boyfriend. If he wanted to. You hadn’t actually gotten around to ask him for his plans and some of the guys had already been chiding you for it. They were, of course, right.

„Ya know, lass“ Scotty scooted around in his room, while you lay on his bed, stretching and holding a hand-to-hand-combat manual over your head, lazily eyeing the pictures depicted there. „This picture here is complete bullshit, Monty.“ you turned the book around to show him the picture and he raised his eyebrows as he examined the picture. „Looks painful to me.“ you laughed at his answer: „Yeah, but it’s bullshit, if you shove your arm around someones neck like that, it’s completely ineffective. You should just grab his other shoulder with the arm that’s around his neck, you know …“ He cautiously shook his head and smiled at you: „Remind me to never get in a fight with ya.“ The engineer chuckled and you rolled your eyes, throwing the book to the site and looking at him. „What where you saying before?“ A sigh left his lips and he leaned back on his office chair, crossing his arms in front of him. „Ya know, I’ve thought … it’s a bit crazy, I admit it. But maybe … I’ve talked to the Captain and he doesn’t care .. well… he does care of course, but it’s our decision he says, and …“ - „Spill it. You’re babbling worse then I am.“ He cleared his throat. „I thought, maybe, ya’d want to share rooms with me.“ At that you stared at him dumbfounded. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. Not with everything that had happened. And the fact that you were merely a thing for about 2 weeks now. You did spent an awful lot of time at his quarters, though. Well, actually - both of you spent most of your free time here, apart from your excursions around the ship. „I …“ you began, still somewhat wordless. „Not right now, of course, ya’ll keep your quarters and all, but.. maybe after Yorktown .. maybe when ya’re more sure about this, I thought … thought this sounded nice.“ A smile tugged at your lips and at that he came over to the bed and positioned himself over you. „We should .. explore that idea.“ you pondered and lifted your head to steal yourself a kiss. He was so … eager. Everything he did, he really meant. There was no trace of a lie in this man, only earnest fondness. „On another note“, his voice lost an octave or so as he spoke, his right hand leading your wrists one after another over your head and gently keeping them in place. He kissed you once more. „What are you’re plans for Yorktown?“ You would have to talk to him about being sexy and holding important conversations at the same time. Your head felt dizzy and your thinking was not in prime condition. „Well, later in the evening there’ll be the usual operations party. Place still to be determined, as far as I am up to date with the mess hall talk.“ pausing for a second and enjoying the view, you smirked up at him: „But maybe news in the officers mess is different?“ He snorted and his hand left your wrists, simply leaning over you now. „Officers mess is very, very nosy about a certain chief engineer and his suddenly blooming love life.“ You had expected as much. „But!“ he lifted a finger and grinned: „I know for a fact that we’re going to arrive early on Alpha. and I’ve planned a few things besides getting wickedly drunk in the evening, so I hoped you hadn’t planned anything yet?“ Your cheeks flushed with excitement as you shook your head. „As a matter of fact, I haven’t, as I was hoping to ask a certain Engineer with a rekindled love life out. What have you planned?“ „Ha“ he laughed at your question and lifted himself from the bed. „You’ll see.“ „So it’s a surprise?“ „Aye, lass.“ You straightened yourself and wiggled your eyebrows: „Any way to coax you into telling me?“ „Nah, it’s a surprise“ he seemed to enjoy this quite a lot. You nibbled at your lower lip, pondering. „Don’t pull tha’ face, lass. Jus pick somethin’ nice to wear.“ This man never stopped to intrigue you.

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