#but I never speak as an authority and would never gatekeep

[arschbiene]

wow gil albinism hc is a sore spot XD

Is it?? Idk if you mean my tone or other talk, I don't really see any talk on a glance through the search but it shouldn't be a sore spot imo, everyone should just do what they like and stand by what they like.

Just because I have a differing opinion doesn't mean anything like at all, I cannot stress how little the opinion I express matters to anyone BUT ME and my personal interpretation of a Gilbert that I vibe with. Truly, just do what you like to your little meow meow that makes you happy and rejoice.

[dukeofdelirium]

????? creepy…? Aang didn’t view Katara as a mother or mother figure within his life, lol. Like, ever. Show me when and where Aang ever thought of her in this way?

Y’all are invalidating the love Aang had for his father Gyatso who actually raised him from the time he was a baby. Aang viewed Gyatso as his parent. He loved Gyatso as his parent. He proudly states to Katara and Sokka that Gyatso “taught me everything I know.” Stop erasing Aang’s bond with his actual parental figure in canon. Aang’s love for Gyatso and grief over losing him is what everything else in the story revolves around. The disrespect you idiots show to this relationship is ridiculous. We need to start gatekeeping this show I’m so serious

The first thing Aang did when he met Katara was to ask her to go play with him as the children they are. He then reminded her that she was still a child, too. Aang always viewed Katara as his peer and equal, his best friend—NEVER his parent.

If Aang viewed Katara as his parent, that means he would view her as having authority over him. Which he doesn’t. That also means he would expect her to care for him, which he very much doesn’t.

In fact, the exact opposite is depicted. Aang actually canonically struggles with and rejects Katara’s affections toward him, multiple times. It is portrayed as difficult for him to allow her to show him love, something he has to get over as the show continues. Aang never asks Katara for anything, and he doesn’t expect her to do things for him. She does all of these things of her own free will. Katara also hates that Toph views her as motherly. The only time Katara even speaks on this is when she is arguing with Sokka and Toph. Guess who isn’t a part of this in regards to viewing Katara as motherly? Aang. He doesn’t speak on any of this and the episode doesn’t focus on his and Katara’s relationship because they don’t treat one another the way Katara treats Toph and Sokka. The only time Katara ever acts “motherly” toward Aang is in that very episode, and it’s played for laughs… because she isn’t his mom lol

Also, the EIP episode wasn’t “insane” 😂 and it definitely wasn’t proof that Katara didn’t love Aang. If anything, she’s verbally affirming she does love him romantically. She just set a boundary, because she was afraid he might die and she would be unable to revive him like she had in the book 2 finale. It’s really not that difficult to understand…

Also.. if Aang getting broken out of the ice is a metaphor for …. Childbirth…. Then did Katara birth Appa too ? 😭😂 help it’s sending me

[ladydiaries]

hihi! i dunno if requests are open rn but if they are, can i request nsfw or sfw hcs of vox x (preferably AMAB! reader, but gn's fine too!) a socially awkward reader?? tysm!! take care of yourself and take your time! :3

Sparks ✧˚ ༘ ⊹ .ᐟ .ᐟ

CW; minors do not interact, 18+ content, praise, vox electrocutes you like twice, AMAB, biting , edging , breeding, oral (giving). Rambles + hcs under the cut!

SUMMARY; general SFW &&. NSFW hcs of vox x socially awkward AMAB! Reader

HCS + RAMBLES

AUTHORS NOTE; TYSMMM for requesting!! I'm excited to write an AMAB reader. There is a serious drought of them, Going to use he/him pronouns for this one.

Of course, if this relationship is established I believe he would treat you like you're the only man in the world. His bitchy exterior is totally a front and inside he's a bit more lax, corny, and to your surprise, charming. Taking you on dates, presenting you with flowers.

Even better if he had intentions of manipulating you first, spiralling into the embarrassing realisation that he's in love with you. Ranting to Valentino and Velvet about his dilemma. Sure to tease him about it whenever you're around. Fast forward into the actual relationship, at the beginning he would have trouble not seeing you as some sort of possession.

Something to hide and keep, which due to your introverted nature, you didn't particularly mind not going out often, overtime he would loosen up, taking you on dates, more focused on showing you off then gatekeeping you, confused as to why you were so much more shy in the public then in private.

hogs the bed, face (screen) down, limbs everywhere.

An AWFUL cook. Could imagine a baking date and if you are good, wonderful. You can teach him, and if you too are also awful, you can feed your shit cookies to Valentino.

Insists on doing small things for you to boost his ego, will speak for you at restaurants and public settings

Will make you learn how to repair and upgrade his systems. Thinks it's romantic

If you work for him, he will purposely give you jobs that don't require public speaking, will never admit to it though.

NSFW.

This man FUCKS. You are a lucky boy because he has stamina. Will fuck you for hours on end, clawed hands running loosely against your cock as he pistoned into you from behind. Barely touching you enough to make you cum, you've been here for hours. Bringing you so, so, close to your sweet release before daggered fingers plunge into your soft skin.

He's the type of man to use praises while you suck him off. Unyielding grip on your hair. Hips rutting up slowly into your mouth. The intrusion making you struggle to swallow your gag reflex.

Whiny. He's the epitome of whiny men. Screen scrolling in between different levels of brightness, furrowed brows as you place open mouthed kisses against his body. Fingers mingling around the back panel of his screen.

very experimental, will try pretty much everything

If he overheats, he will pass out. Had to install a better cooling system due to shutting down too much.

Cock is ridged. A steel navy blue colour, leading towards a blue tip. Detachable, can change sizes, widths or not have one at all.

Cums a lot, a thick substance. Likes to watch it drip out of you, tastes like pennies.

Thrives to see your embarrassment while teasing you in public. Hand wandering too far down your waist or foot pressing against your groin while sitting across from him during a meeting.

Depending on his schedule, he can either be the best or the worst at aftercare. On a busy day he could probably care less but on day's off or weekends he's all for it. Bathing you, gathering treats, snuggling neatly in bed to watch whatever show peaks your interest in the moment.

[statustemporary]

take my hand, take a breath

SUMMARY: Viscount Bridgerton was stubborn, frustrating, got in his own way more often than not, and there was a melancholy about his person most times when she saw him, but she gave him more leeway than she did nearly all of the rest of the Ton.

Except when conversing with her charge before an introduction, a conversation that is decidedly not their first.

//

Or Lady Danbury notices Kate has given them the slip during the Conservatory Ball and she finds her charge having a conversation with the viscount in the garden.

RATING: General Audiences

WORD COUNT: 1,760 words

TAGS: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conservatory Ball AU, First Dance, no beta we die like edmund bridgerton

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: ahhh not only is this the most i've written since like october??? but this is also my first work for bridgerton. kanthony brainrot has never left me so time to put it to paper. anyway this was inspired by one of my 87 different fanfic prompts i've been posting to tumblr (on @myficprompts) in hopes others will write it but i got impatient on this one and figured i'd just do it myself. (would love to see someone take on the original prompt though! please!!!!! thanks!!!)

***

Despite the way they have butted heads since their introduction, Lady Danbury had a begrudging respect for Miss Sharma. Her obstinance in the face of harsh truths was admirable to a degree. Frustrating, to be certain. Ill-mannered, to some extent. Yet the firm set of her shoulders, straight back, and words infused with a note of smugness proved she would be a formidable gatekeeper for her sister’s suitors.

If only the miss would not write herself off so young. Old maid by the Ton’s standards, unfortunately, but by her own, she had a full life still ahead of her.

Miss Sharma may have rejected her suggestion of a match but the curious way in which she admired Viscount Anthony Bridgerton also proved that the walls fortified around her young heart were not impenetrable.

Which meant that Miss Sharma’s disappearance in the midst of her sister’s first dance raised alarm.

As much as she had written herself off, she was still under Lady Danbury’s protection. Personal declarations of not being on the marriage mart did not make her unsusceptible to being compromised or other scandal. A thought that she would have hoped Miss Sharma to consider before wandering off but as Lady Danbury learned earlier, there was still much for her to learn about the Ton.

The dowager parted ways from a nervous Lady Mary with nothing more than a quip about watching her thirst before she moved about the room. The music covered the sound of her cane clacking against the wood floor and gave Lady Danbury the ability to slink along the walls of the conservatory.

Her stop at the set of windows near the entrance door proved most fruitful. She heard the faint sounds of gentlemen departing for the smoking room and, just before she continued her search, she spied her own charge stepping into close proximity to the viscount.

In view of the ballroom and still a respectable distance to not cause scandal, Lady Danbury did not appreciate the familiar nature in which the two conversed, especially as they had not been introduced. Huffing, she made her way to the entry garden.

“…as deficient as your horsemanship. I shall bid you goodnight.”

Lady Danbury came around the hedge at the same moment as Miss Sharma, their bodies nearly colliding.

“Miss Sharma,” she drawled, resting both hands on the head of her cane. She scrutinized the young woman, her eyes traveling to the flustered man who gaped at them like a fish out of water. “Viscount Bridgerton. How curious to find you both out here. Together.”

“My apologies, Lady Danbury – ” Viscount Bridgerton attempted to speak before Miss Sharma cut in suddenly, louder.

“I simply needed air. I did not realize I had to alert you of my need for a break.” She smiled, thin-lipped and with a hint of frustration – at the viscount, at her, at the situation – before bowing her head to Lady Danbury.

“Yes, well, seeing as you are under my protection,” Lady Danbury said, a warning glance to Viscount Bridgerton as he looked equal parts fearful and thrilled at the information, “I fear I did not stress the seriousness of some of the Ton’s etiquette specificities. It is of the utmost importance that they are understood, to lessen any troubles of your sister making a good match. Understood?”

Miss Sharma bit her tongue, her eyes darting to the side to the silent viscount behind her. “Of course, Lady Danbury,” she forced out.

“Lady Danbury, if I may – ”

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the boy she’d known since he was in leading strings. A boy no longer if the title of Rake he’d worn without care for years meant anything. She always had a soft spot for the Bridgerton family. Her own connection aside, to find a love match such as the one between Edmund and Violet, a love match that proved fruitful until the eighth viscount’s death, was a rarity in the Ton. The strength of the family bonded by that love match showed in the closeness of the children and the genuine love and affection they showered upon each other. Even when she’d watch the children squabble and fight, it was never with the nasty cold demeanor of the rest of the Ton.

Then to watch as Anthony took on the role of viscount, father, and provider before heading to university had softened her more. Lady Danbury admired the way he took care of his family and how he not only kept them afloat following his father’s death but ensured that they thrived. He was stubborn, frustrating, got in his own way more often than not, and there was a melancholy about his person most times when she saw him, but she gave him more leeway than she did nearly all of the rest of the Ton.

Except when conversing with her charge before an introduction, a conversation that is decidedly not their first. She did, after all, recall Miss Sharma’s slip of the tongue on the edge of the dance floor.

“You have done quite enough, Viscount Bridgerton.”

Her glare silenced the viscount as his mouth thinned and his brows furrowed in displeasure.

“Lady Danbury, I must go see to my sister – ”

“Your sister is being looked after by your mother, Miss Sharma. Perhaps you should let those of us seasoned within the Ton take over from here.”

Miss Sharma pressed her lips together for a moment before she responded. “With all due respect, as I mentioned earlier, I was the one to prepare my sister for her debut and I really should be helping to vet the quality of her dance partners…”

The young woman’s words never made it to Lady Danbury’s ears as her eyes were too busy taking in the scene before her. They flickered between Miss Sharma and Viscount Bridgerton with a quick and startling realization.

Cut from the same cloth, they stood before her as the eldest siblings of their families, the caretakers and providers, with strong shoulders upon which the heavy burdens of their families laid. The protectors who cannot see the wood for the trees in regards to the marriage mart.

Equals.

“Hm,” Lady Danbury cut Miss Sharma off. “A dance is a brilliant idea.”

“My lady?” Miss Sharma asked, blinking her eyes in confusion.

“Pardon me?” Viscount Bridgerton asked behind her.

Lady Danbury hit her cane against the ground. Even without the sound of its impact, the two before her stood just a hair taller. She raised her voice as the doors to the ballroom opened. “How wonderful of Viscount Bridgerton to ask for your next dance. Splendid indeed!”

Miss Sharma huffed. “He absolutely did nothing of the sort. He cannot even dance.”

Viscount Bridgerton rolled his eyes. “Now you object to my dancing abilities?”

“I saw how you nearly trampled the young miss on your last dance.”

A smug grin worked its way onto his face as he stepped closer. “So you admit to eavesdropping and watching me now?”

“As I said, it is not eavesdropping if you speak loud enough for the entire party to hear!”

Lady Danbury cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows expectantly at the two in front of her. She swung out her cane, hitting their shins and watching in satisfaction as the two stepped apart though neither were entirely pleased.

“Yes, a dance will be a nice way to tidy this situation up. Afterall,” she said, lowering her voice, “it would not do well for others to know of your conversations and familiarity prior to an introduction. And I will require to know just how familiar you are with each other.”

Miss Sharma laughed off the suggestion. “That will not be necessary, Lady Danbury. I do not host any of the, what was it,” she turned to the viscount for a moment with a saccharine smile before facing Lady Danbury once more. “Ah, yes, impeccable qualities that Viscount Bridgerton is in search of in a wife.”

This time, the huff came from the viscount’s mouth. “That is completely unfair and you know it, Miss Sharma,” he said, a teasing lilt endearing to his voice as he said her name, negating the frustration that colored it prior. He cleared his throat before she could respond and grinned at Lady Danbury much like the cat that ate the canary. “However, you are right, Lady Danbury. A dance is a wonderful idea to mitigate any chance of scandal.”

She watched in amusement as Viscount Bridgerton’s grin widened when he turned to Miss Sharma. He lifted his hand and held it out to her, waiting for a moment.

“Miss Sharma, may I have this dance?”

Despite his proud swagger, the viscount’s request came out soft and like a whisper. His eyes crinkled and his gaze warmed, melting the arrogance that so often moved him forward. For a moment, Lady Danbury felt as if she was witnessing Edmund charming Violet all over again.

Miss Sharma’s breath hitched in the back of her throat at the intimacy that laced his words and she swallowed before quietly answering her agreement. Her hand shook, though Lady Danbury assumed she was the only one to notice, as she lifted it to place in the viscount’s.

Lady Danbury hummed in satisfaction as she allowed the two to enter the ballroom before her, Viscount Bridgerton’s perfect posture only lending to the peacocking he did as he led Miss Sharma to the dance floor. If she knew the viscount as well as she believed to, his peacocking, was less of a matter of besting Miss Sharma at their undisclosed challenge and more at having her on his arm, contrary to what he was currently telling himself. The way their eyes never strayed from one another as they readied themselves only proved her point.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Violet’s jaw drop minutely before their eyes met.

Did he willingly ask…? Her oldest friend seemed to ask. Lady Danbury nodded with a smug smile. The viscount who saw finding a wife more of a duty and chore than a chance for happiness, bewitched by a so-called spinster.

The music started and the two moved in perfect harmony. Their connection was palpable and they enchanted the room as they seemed to float through each step. Only when they began to whisper amongst themselves, a mix of bickering and flirting, did Lady Danbury notice the queen’s arrival at her side.

“What an interesting season this will be,” Queen Charlotte murmured, her smile pleased and mischievous.

“Interesting, indeed.”

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Ten

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: You would laugh when I tell y'all the hours I spent trying to study High Valyrian and make sure I used proper grammar. Because, like... who does that?? I still don't think I used correct grammar and sentence structure, but who's going to know? This chapter takes place over a few years. I wanted to clarify that ahead of time in case of any questions. I also wanted to say that the woman depicted in the cover art is not necessarily what I imagine the main character to look like. She has black hair like her mother, and she's not conventionally skinny. She has a semi-muscular but broad body due to her training, and her eyes are as described. Other than that, the MC can be whatever you picture. xD ANYWAYS... Thank you so much for your continued support as we embark on this journey together. It means so much to me.

Chapter Warnings: Gaslight, gatekeep, girl boss, time jumps, italics equal High Valyrian when speaking.

"I survive off the idea that one day my rage will be witnessed by the men who poisoned me with it in the first place." - Maya G. Wolf, Being A Woman.

Prince Daemon was excited when you arrived at Dragonstone. He dreamed of having a son of his own. One to train and spar with. Though he loved Baela and Rhaena, they were not encouraged to take up the sword, nor did they want to. Rhaenyra's sons, Jacaerys and Lucerys, were trained in swordsmanship but were less committed than Daemon would have preferred. They had much heavier things to worry about, like ruling entire kingdoms.

You were the only child in Dragonstone with no future prospects. You had no claims to land. None would be passed down to you as everything was already set to your father's true-born daughters. It did not matter if you were the eldest and held the most seniority. You were a bastard, and bastards were nothing but a stain on noble houses. You were lucky even to be allowed into the same wing as your father's family.

Even though you were a smudge on the Targaryen name, the Targaryens treated you as anything but and welcomed you with open arms and hearts. You were hesitant, at first, to accept their love, only clinging to a man you shared a slither of a connection with.

It became Daemon's project to integrate you into the family. It was what gave him joy in the never-ending days tucked away at Dragonstone. Furious at the world and everything around her, he transformed an angry girl into a warrior.

He saw you reborn through his gruesome training, sand melted and forged into glass. The lessons he taught began to shine through as time progressed. You eventually viewed those curly-mop-headed boys as your brothers and Rhaenyra, your mother. The family became the most important thing to you, your love for each stored close within your heart. You all were that each other had.

You had heard the rumors that plagued Rhaenyra and her children concerning their lineage. It was surprising how much people would let slip around the "bastard of Daemon Targaryen." You could not help but feel a sense of empathy for them. You needed to protect one another from the world, from the cruel whispers that trailed not too far behind each of you.

But if one of your brothers decided to pull your hair one more time when you weren't paying attention... the Stranger would have two more souls to guide.

***

You and Daemon had developed a routine here on the sandy beaches of Dragonstone.

You would run in the morning when the sun had not risen yet, and the wind still held the same damp, nightly chill in the air. He would send you around the inner grounds of the castle, then up and down the many rocky and steep hills leading to Dragonmont, and finally, around the beaches, where he would begin your proper training.

"A warmup," he would call it as you vomited on the shore, panting like a dog the first dozen times you did it.

He pushed you, sometimes too far, you thought, when you screamed, exhausted with tears in your eyes. Daemon would always say the same thing every time you nearly gave up.

"When you are at your lowest, stand back up, and spit in the face of your enemy. They will not take pity when they see your weakness. They will kill you. Do not let them get the chance." You could not argue with his logic, your pride beginning to mirror his over time. Weakness was never an option for a bastard in the House of the Dragon.

Within years, your limbs were not the soft linear sticking of bone they once were but toned, strong, and sturdy from the many bags of grain you carried. Your body no longer reflected the malnourished peasant girl but a warrior, the likes of which no one had seen since Queen Visenya.

***

"Tell me again, Maester Gerardys, of the dragons here on this island," you asked sweetly, resting your jaw on your palm.

You wanted to hear about something other than the hierarchy and the politics of the North, your mind entirely elsewhere. You knew that if you batted your lashes enough, the Maester would forget about today's lesson.

"Well, Princess, we have had many over the years, but currently, there are your family's dragons. Caraxes, ridden by your father. Syrax by your mother. Vermax by your younger brother Prince Jacaerys, and Arrax by the second youngest, Prince Lucerys." You nodded along, seeming to care about the claimed dragons honestly.

"I heard rumors from the servants of several unclaimed dragons. Ones that steal the common folk's livestock and another that is so silver that it blends into the sea mist. What of those?" You pouted your lips slightly when you talked, leaning forward in your palm.

"Ah, yes. There are wild dragons that reside on the island. Some are in the cliffs overlooking the port, Dragonmont, or in other hidden caves where we cannot find them." You smirked slightly, appearing to have no ulterior motives in the conversation. "There are three riderless dragons. Seasmoke, which belonged to the late Lord Laenor Velaryon, Silverwing, who belonged to Queen Alysanne, Vermithor, who belonged to Jaehaerys Targaryen, your second Great Grandsire. Vermithor resides inside the Dragonmont and has a large body of bronze. They called him the Bronze Fury, and oh, was he a sight to see in the skies! The way the sun would shine on his scales was magnificent!"

Maester Gerardys shook his head, smiling to himself and getting rid of the memory of the beautiful beast. "There are three wild dragons which have been attempted to be claimed, but none have ever succeeded. They are nasty, those three. And should you ever come across them, run in the other direction."

He began to turn back around, beginning to continue the lesson from before. You couldn't let him finish; you still had many more questions.

"What do those wild dragons look like," you quickly asked, almost showing a worrying amount of enthusiasm.

The Maester swallowed, returning to you as you display your best puppy dog eyes. You knew they were his greatest weakness—the brown orbs reflected in the candlelight, the small ring of violet shining around your pupil.

"Gods, be good," he whispered, clasping his hands behind his back.

"The first is Grey Ghost, the one you heard the servants talking about. He has a pale coloring to his scale and almost becomes invisible when he flies within the sea mist. He does not bother the smallfolk much, leaving for long periods. The second is Sheepstealer. He is a real nuisance to the smallfolk, always snatching any mutton he can wrap his teeth around from here to Driftmark and Wendwater. " You nodded along, urging him to keep talking until you had every drop of knowledge one could obtain.

"The worst one, Princess, is Cannibal. He is said to be as black as coal and has green eyes that would scare the most battle-hardened of men. He is the largest of all three wild dragons and by far the most dangerous, feasting on his fellow species. His den is said to be covered in the bones of those who have attempted to claim him."

Maester Garardys was worried he might have scared the poor Princess with the discussion of the fearsome dragons, but when he looked at your face, your features showed no fear. You had a slight grin gracing your flushed skin, your eyes bright, and your mind hanging onto every word he said.

"Where does Cannibal reside, Maester?" You questioned eagerly, forgetting yourself.

He squinted his eyes momentarily, unsure if he should give you the answer considering your demeanor. "He resides in the back of the Dragonmont on the eastern side." He began to turn away but stopped, feeling uneasy. "Princess, why do you have a sudden interest in the dragons here on the island? We had a lesson on them barely a fortnight ago, and if you do not mind me saying, you seemed somewhat disinterested in it."

Your smile did not falter momentarily, a lie quickly finding its way onto your tongue.

"I had decided to do some extra reading on my family's history in my spare time and was somewhat confused about which dragon was where, who rode what, and what they looked like. There is so much for me to learn," you fidgeted in your seat, wringing your hands, "and my brothers have such an advantage on me with having you as their teacher for their whole life... I feel very inadequate compared to them."

Maester Garardys gave you a pitying look that made your blood boil as you continued your defeated expression. "Oh, Princess, do not be too hard on yourself," he cooed. "This is not a traditional education that women like yourself get, but your father insisted you be taught the same as your brothers. I will remember for the next lesson to take more time with you."

"Thank you, Maester Garardys," you said, feigning bashfulness as your nails dug into your palms. The urge to jump over the wooden table that separated you and punch that soft-hearted look off his face was strong, but you held fest, continuing the doltish girl act. "If it would not be too much, ser, could you please not tell my father about what we discussed? I do not want him to think I am incapable of doing what he assigned me."

"Of course, Princess," he smiled kindly as if he was talking to some simple-minded fool and not a growing woman with the compacity to understand simple subjects.

Finally, he returned to the original lesson, speaking slower than before and explaining things in more detail than you thought necessary. You swallowed the anger threatening to spill past your lips as you adjust your posture.

You would show him. You would show all who thought the same as him how wrong they were about you. You were not to be spoken down to and underestimated, and you would make sure anyone who did would live to regret it. You were not some peasant girl with a fancy title; you were a Targaryen. You are the firstborn of Daemon Targaryen, the brother of the King, the husband of the heir to the Iron Throne, and they would do well to remember that.

***

You only had a few hours before someone would realize you were gone. You had told Rhaenyra that you were nursing a severe headache after your training with Daemon today and could not participate in your daily embroidery lesson for the afternoon. She, of course, understood, knowing how her uncle could be if left on his own with a sword and a weaker opponent.

There was only a slightly guilty feeling in your chest as you lied to her.

Years of the gruesome time your father had put you through paid off as you snuck past countless guards and servants, using the hidden passages within Dragonstone's walls to escape. There were no maps of the caverns inside Dragonmont, which left you nothing but the information Maester Garardys gave you and your instincts to guide you.

The first half was easy, you told yourself. You only needed to sneak inside Syrax's lair and steal an egg. Daemon had come boasting not too long ago about how the she-dragon had laid a new clutch of eggs, a sign that his "Targaryen seed was strong" and your mother was surely with child again. You felt bad that you could be taking a dragon away from one of your future siblings, but you only needed one, nothing more. Indeed they would survive if you just took one.

Syrax was nowhere to be found as you silently crept into her den, placing the torch you had for light in an empty holder. You sighed in relief as you gazed upon six eggs laid on a pile of sand she had made, a nest to keep them warm. Plenty would be left. You smiled as you stuffed an egg inside your satchel, positioning it with your other supplies.

The low rumble of heavy steps shook the ground, signaling that Syrax was most likely returning from where ever she was, and you needed to get the Seven Hells out of there. You cursed the Gods for this unfortunate timing, snatching your torch and scrambling out of the cave and in the opposite direction of the cold-blooded animal.

You ran further into the darkened caves, the idiotic nature of your plans finally coming to fruition as you realized you were lost. You could feel the panic beginning to rise in your chest, your breathing speeding up. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you stumbled, dropping your only light source and tearing the seam of your dress as you fell onto the rocky ground. You cried out in pain, your body forcing the tears to fall against your will as you wiped at your face.

"You will not be weak," you said, echoing along the warm stone. "You are not weak," you gritted out again, digging your palms into your eye sockets.

You yanked your arms away, readying to push yourself up and continue your quest as you opened your eyes. Standing over you in the dim lighting was a creature as black as night, its scales reflecting off your lost torch as a rush of hot air wafted your cheeks. Cannibal's piercing green eyes stared back at you, his pupils dilating as he scanned your frightened form.

Quickly, you moved to create a safe enough distance between you and the beast, wincing as you noticed the blood dripping down your shin. He tilted his head at you, seeming confused to see such a small and pathetic thing so far back into Dragonmont as he stepped closer. You grabbed the egg faster than Cannibal could move and placed it between you and the dragon, offering peace between two isolated individuals. He proceeded instantly, walking over to your discarded torch and consuming the egg in one bite, bits of shell flinging across the cave floor.

The fallen torch illuminated his body over top of the light. Rows of black horns protruded along his head and neck, teeth the size of your forearm glistening with yolk. His feet had shiny black claws that could slice a man in half. He was not the majestic creature that songs were sung about. He was a monster. A monster you would scare a child with so that they would come home on time.

No one would think you were weak with a dragon such as him by your side. They would all cower away as the Bastard Princess sat atop her Cannibal dragon. It was divine fate that brought you to this moment, face to face with the most dangerous dragon in all the realm. A creature that many men had tried to claim, but all failed, their bones scattered across his den. 

You were no man.

Courage filled your limbs as you stepped closer to him, your chin held high as you took about another item you had brought. You had stolen pork legs on your way to the caverns, the kitchen maids too preoccupied with other tasks to see a cloaked figure hiding amongst the shadows. You took a deep breath, holding the first leg out as Cannibal's nostrils flared at the smell.

"Dohaerās (serve)," you commanded, and the dragon stared, unmoving. "Māzīs naejot (come forward)," you tried, insecurity creeping into your mind when he did not move. "Māzīs," you repeated, with more force, still holding the pig leg before you. "Māzīs naejot issa (come to me)," you barked.

You knew this would take some time, but surely, waiving a piece of raw meat in front of a dragon named Cannibal would yield quicker results. Still, he ignored you, his head lowering to the ground as he sniffed it, beginning to lick it.

"What in the Seven Hells are you doing?" You questioned, exasperated as you stepped closer to him.

At speed too quick for a dragon of his size, his head snapped up, his green eyes becoming black as a low growl came from his chest, looking as if he would charge at any second; you threw the leg and retreated. Once again, he swallowed it in one bite, returning to the same spot on the ground.

You looked closer, forcing your eyes to adjust in the darkness as you realized that was the spot where you fell, seeing the dried blood. Your body was faster than your mind, swiftly finding the dagger Daemon had gifted you for your first name day with him and cutting your hand, smearing your blood on the raw meat. Finally, did you have Cannibal's full attention, his nostrils flaring as he smelled the air.

You steeled yourself again, holding the pork out.

"Māzīs (come)," you demanded proudly. He snarled, the sound booming inside your ears as you repeated yourself.

You could sense his anger at this tiny creature believing she could command him, and when you repeated a third time, his patience wore thin. Cannibal inhaled, his throat grumbling as you saw him lift his head and open his mouth. You were not an idiot. You knew what came next, seeing it countless times with Caraxes, but with nowhere to run, you stared at the bright orange flames.

***

The sound of clinking silverware and laughter echoed in the dining hall of Dragonstone, even with one less member of the family. Jace had butchered a Valerian pronunciation, Rhaenyra attempting to stifle her laughter, and even Damon chuckling in amusement. Everything was going normal, each person blissfully unaware of the Princess deep inside Dragonmont.

"Mother," Luke spoke during a lull in the conversation, "could I bring sister some dinner?" No one had seen you since high noon, not wanting to bother you while being ill.

"I am sure she would love that, sweet boy," she said gently. Rhaenyra smiled, nodding to Luke and motioning him to come in for a quick kiss before going to your chambers. He proceeded on the usual route to your apartments but stopped short as he looked down at the plate the servants had prepared for you. 

Luke knew how much you loved sweets, sneaking him and Jace under the rouse of them wanting something in the kitchens and not you. Both boys would always play along with whatever schemes their rebellious half-sister thought of for the day. Either racing across the halls and seeing who was the fastest, playing with wooden swords inside the castle, or putting pins on her Septa's chair if she was a "particular cunt" that day.

Lucerys went down the small passage leading to the kitchens rounding the corner with your plate of cooling food still in his hands as he surveyed the freshly baked trays of pastries. He could not decide which ones you would like more. Sadly, nothing with apples was made.

"Could I help ya' young prince?" An older woman asked, her gown a drab grey woolen color and a white bonnet on her head.

"Oh yes," the young boy answered, slightly startled by her sudden presence. "My sister is not feeling well this evening, and I wanted to bring her some dessert to help her recover."

The woman hummed, nodding in agreement as she missed tying off her stained apron. "That's a mighty fine idea, my prince. May I help ye' in yer selection?"

"Oh, yes," he repeated, "her favorite is apples, but I cannot seem to find anything with some."

"Ah. Apples are not in season at the moment, so our imports of them have been scarce, but I'll see what I can do for the young Miss. I am sure we'll have some somewhere."

The woman began her search for the fruit wandering off into small rooms and digging through random barrels until she found what she was looking for. "Do you know what the lady prefers?" She questioned as she began to rinse the red fruit.

"I believe she likes something called apple muse. I think that is how she called it," he said, unsure. The woman nodded again and smiled as she gathered some bowls, pitchers, and utensils.

"She's a girl after me own heart," the lady commented, peeling the apples. "We eat this all the time for dessert, and it's very easy. I'll be done faster than a crow's fly."

Luke smiled and sat on a stool to watch the woman work, picturing your joyful face when he brought you the food.

***

Luke finally reached your grand oak doors, knocking with his free hand. You were not feeling good, so he knocked again and opened the door, calling out your name. You did not answer, which he wasn't surprised about. He still had the same grin, excited and happy to do something nice for his sister.

"I have brought you some dinner," he said gleefully. "It is your favorite. I even had one of the servants make you some Apple Muse." Still, you did not answer as Lucerys moved further into your apartments.

Your seamstress hid hints of the Targaryen crest throughout the different items in your entry room. Black and red decorated every fabric with curtains to match. Leather-bound books and armor were thrown haphazardly on velvet chairs and benches. No doubt you had told your maids you would clean it up later.

He figured you would be in your bed chambers, knocking again on a smaller door as he entered. He nearly dropped the plate he had put some much heart into when he saw your empty bed, the sheets undisturbed from when they were made early this morning.

Swiftly, he sat the food onto a nearby stand, ringing the bell for your maids. Within moments three women came up, surprised to see the young Prince Lucerys instead of their Princess. They all bowed, one readying to speak before she was cut off.

"Where is my sister," he asked quickly.

"We are not sure, Your Grace. She has not returned since her bath after training," the one he believed was called Edith said.

"How do you mean? She must be here," he denied, panicked. She told my mother she was retiring in the evening due to a headache."

The three girls looked at each other, each bewildered and confused. "I am sorry, Your Grace, but we have not seen her since then."

Luke nodded curtly, hurrying out of your rooms and back to the dining hall, his red pants swishing with each step. He would catch the rest of his family leaving if he were fast.

He ran past servant after servant, dodging some carrying stacks of linen, some with brooms and dusters, and others he bumped into without apologizing. Luke felt betrayal in his chest, his heart cracking into pieces as his eyes began to water. His young mind went to the worst possibilities, remembering how you told him of the terrible punishment to your former Aunt and handmaid for trying to abduct you. Perhaps someone else from your old life attempted it again? That would be the only reason you would lie.

How could you leave them? They were your family. They loved you. He loved you.

He sprinted blindly, wiping at his eyes as he ran into a warm body, instantly recognizing the floral smell.

"My sweet boy, what is the matter?" Rhaenyra asked kindly, stroking her second son's curly hair.

"It's Sissy," he cried, reverting to the old name he called you before Jace teased him. "She is not in her rooms, and-and none of her maids have seen her!"

"Calm, Lucerys. Take a deep breath and tell me again," Rhaenyra said calmly, with a nurturing, motherly tone.

"I went to give Sissy her food, but she is not in her rooms, and her servants said they have not seen her! I think they took her! Like before," Luke cried into his mother's thick skirts.

"Why do you think she was taken, Lucerys? Perhaps she is just along the beaches resting as she as done before?" Luke couldn't argue with her reasoning, but he still could not help but feel a sense of worry. She gave him a wry smile, looking over to her husband, who had a concentrated look on his face, his eyebrows creased.

Before Daemon or Rhaenyra could think of their next move, a Kingsguard ran toward them, their polished armor clanking.

"Princess," he nodded to Rhaenyra, still out of breath. "Prince Daemon. We believe in having spotted the young Princess on the eastern cliffs of Dragonmont," the knight known as Ser Steffon paused, glancing at the floor momentarily before looking back at Daemon, "naked and riding a dragon."

Rhaenyra's eyes widened in shock, covering her mouth as she went to grab her husband's hand. He took it without hesitance, squeezing it reassuringly as he pulled her closer. Jace and Luke both made disgusted faces at the mention of their sister without clothes, their true maturity showing no matter how righteous they tried to act.

"I will mount Caraxes," Daemon declared, his voice becoming what he used in war. "Gather serval knights, Ser Steffon, and alert the Dragonkeepers."

"I will go with you, father," Jacaerys interjected, puffing his chest out proudly.

"No," he said with finality, "Vermax is still not fully grown, and you do not have proper control over him yet. It would be too dangerous."

"But-" Jace pleaded before Daemon cut him off with a wave of his hand, rushing to his dragon. Jace stepped back dejectedly, nodding his head as his eyes fell to the floor.

***

The wind tore through your hair, ripping it out of its pinned style. Water leaked from your eyes as Cannibal flew through the skies at lightning speed. You held onto the horns on his back for dear life, your palms sliding as he did a sharp turn. The air was freezing on your bare skin, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins kept you warm.

The black dragon had been soaring wildly through the orange skies, accelerating to altitudes where you thought you might lose consciousness before he suddenly dipped back down. You had forgotten the commands you had memorized in High Valyrian, more focused on not falling to your death and having your family find your crushed, naked dead body.

Your mind was still reeling from the fact that you were alive. Cannibal had bathed you in his dragon fire, burned every inch of clothing on your body, and even melted the dagger your father had gifted you. But you were alive. You were still alive. A dragon had breathed its fire on you, and you lived. You had only heard fables of something like this happening. You did not believe it yourself. Experiencing the contents of myths and legends was not something you thought possible.

Suddenly, Cannibal made a sharp turn causing your body to slip to one side and dangle as he righted himself. He was a wild and untamed beast, possessing the stamina of a Dornish sand steed and taking you to places you did not want him to go. You knew if you did not gain control of him soon, everything would be for naught as he brought you close to the blue waters of the Narrow Sea, his spiked wings cutting through.

"Dohaerās (serve)," you shouted over the wind whistling in your ears, but Cannibal did not listen. "Dohaeragon aōha kipagīros (Serve your rider)!" As if he was trying to defy you, he started to ascend, his body a near verticle line as he flew towards the sky.

You realized you could not direct him from where you were sitting, making the split-second decision to use the horns along his spine as a ladder to reach his head. He began to straighten out, acting as if he was just going to glide across the fluffy yellow-tinted clouds, but then, he suddenly dipped, descending to the water below at blinding speeds. You were sure you felt like an insect crawling on his back, pesky and annoying as it moved just before you could swat it.

You grabbed the horns on his skull, leaning all your weight backward to stop your fast descent. Cannibal released a thundering roar, furious that someone would try to control him as he shifted to his side, his wings pointing above and below. You grabbed the horns on his skull, leaning all your weight backward to stop your fast descent. You captured the horns on his skull, leaning all your weight backward to stop your rapid decline. You held steadfast, shifting your weight in the opposite direction he went. He repeated the same tactic, moving too much into your opposing grip and rocking you back and forth.

"Nyke emagon claimed ao, zaldrīzes. Nyke aōha kipagīros, se ao līs dohaeragon issa lest īlon both morghūljagon! (I have claimed you, dragon. I am your rider, and you must serve me lest we both die!)" You screamed into the air, counteracting his next attempt to shake you off.

A piercing screech cut through the skies, both you and Cannibal turning your heads to where it came from. You had no doubt who it was. Your family had most likely discovered your absence and decided to send your father after you. Fear rushed over you as you saw the Blood Wyrm cut his way through the clouds, its skin a terrifying granite of red and black, your father's lean body sitting atop it.

Cannibal moved to turn and face Caraxes, known to have a deep aversion to other dragons; he no doubt would try to kill him and your father in the process.

"Daor (No)," you bellowed as you countered his attempt, jerking his head in the opposite direction. "Udrāzmī ao rȳbagon naejot issa (You obey my commands)." You leaned down into what you assumed was his ear, "Tegon, sir (Land, now)."

Cannibal slowed. You could sense he was thinking, debating whether or not he would win a fight against a battle-hardened dragon, and if he did win, would he even be worth the kill?

By an act of divine intervention, he moved, descending at slower speeds than he had before, succumbing to the power of a tiny girl. He landed on the southern shores, his breath releasing small puffs of smoke. 

Cannibal lowered his head, which startled you, but you tried not to let him see as you climbed off the dragon. Your hand slid along his neck feeling his blood pulsing in his throat as your eyes locked onto one another. You wanted to thank him for letting you be the one to break him but could not find the proper word. He let out a low sound, not quite a purr, but you knew he could sense how you felt as he turned away, his green eyes blinking slowly.

Your father and his dragon landed on the same beach, far enough away that Cannibal wouldn't feel threatened but still too close for his liking. He didn't recognize Daemon as a threat as he walked towards you carrying something in his arms.

You had prepared yourself for his harsh words before you even set foot inside Dragonmont. Nothing he could say would make you falter. You slinked out from behind Cannibal's large body, your chin held high and your hands clasped behind you proudly.

"You are naked," he said blandly, scanning your body with a judgemental smirk.

You gasped, all your mental preparation from before crumbling as you remembered your current attire, attempting to cover your body. Daemon laughed, throwing the bundle he had in his arms toward you. You raised your eyebrows at the pair of brown trousers with a shirt to match, questioning if that was really what he wanted you to wear.

"Come," he motioned his head, and you followed. "You have claimed a dragon in which there is much to learn. Though I am happy," he spoke leisurely, kicking the sand with his boots, "your mother is not. I suspect you will deal with a great tongue-lashing once we return to the castle."

You sighed through your nose, the sound blending into the folding waves on the shore, pursing your lips as you nodded. "It is easier to seek forgiveness than ask for permission," you quipped, pulling up the pants he had given you.

He laughed softly, smiling as you struggled to keep up with him in clothes two times your size.

In truth, Daemon was still shaken. The moment that Lucerys had come running back from your rooms with tears in his eyes he panicked, his mind going to the worst places imaginable. He did not believe you would go willingly if someone from your past life had managed to sneak their way onto Dragonstone. He knew you had found comfort in your current life. Your indulgences for the finer aspects told him all he needed to know, but he could still sense the reservations whenever Rhaenyra would display an array of gowns when a Lord arrived. Though they may have been small, the habits of your old life were still there. He just didn't know how much was left.

Despite how terrified he was near moments ago, Daemon displayed nothing of the sort. Laughing and teasing his dragon rider daughter as you walked toward the castle. He was giddy that there was another aspect he could add to your daily training and could barely contain his excitement of eventually seeing your frustrated face when things didn't go as you wanted.

It was another challenge he could guide you through as your father, doing what his mother did for him and making up for the years he did not know of your existence. How he wished he could return to the past and change things. So many things...

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I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! I feel like it was pretty controversial for me to choose the Cannibal as the reader's dragon, but out of all the options that she had, I feel like this resembles her the most. I'm sorry about the no Aegon, but we gotta bring some juice to the story. Some meat and potatoes, if you will.

The main character I created is strong. She's raw, visceral, the feeling of triumph when you cross the finish line and win the race. She's the rage you have bottled up throughout your entire life from everyone telling you to contain your emotions, act a certain way, and accept the wrong you have been a victim of. And Cannibal is the only dragon I feel canonically embodies the same fucking rage and power the reader has.

Well, I may have given you too much info on the reader that you could figure out on your own as you read.

I also wanted to say that, canonically, the Targaryen's are not fire proof. We've seen them get burnt to death by dragon fire and just regular fire. The MC only survived because she inadvertently used blood magic and sacrificed a dragon egg. So, sadly, she is not fire proof. She's just lucky. It would be cool if the Targaryen's were tho!

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @buckysmainhxe-deactivated202303, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan,@dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfilit, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @iiamthehybrid, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee,@sunny-boy-06 

[theinfernalsanctuary]

Unfortunately, a very common theme surrounding Satanism is that we are all cultists, unfortunately, this stigma cannot be avoided. Moreover, this stigma is perpetuated by the uneducated that sit amongst our ranks, those of us who pray with no knowledge or background of why we do so. No knowledge of the sacrifices our Lord Satan has made to make our worship meaningful. In this weakness, derision, hate, and cults thrive and poison the very heart of our community, taking the name of Lord Satan and other denizens of Hell and turning them into a mockery. The uneducated will be a never ending scourge on our noble religion, those who use depictions of the devil to justify the pain they cause others, to satisfy their desires though they hold no true faith. 

I have seen no end to the struggle surrounding the uneducated in our midst, and I can only do so much to assist in educating those who choose to walk this path, without gatekeeping the entire religion as a whole. Though my concern is less the fact that people don’t know, as much as it is those who repeatedly show themselves to be dangerous to themselves and others in the community while proclaiming themselves to be spiritual leaders. I would like to say this before I continue, I am not a spiritual leader, I am not trying to be a spiritual leader, I am merely trying to be a guide to those who need a push in the right direction. More than once on this journey I have been asked in private about whether or not I believed myself to be of any special significance to the faith, that answer is wholeheartedly no.

In my time on this platform I have seen a slew of people declaring their intentions of becoming a spiritual leader without understanding what that truly means, the dedication it comes with, and the education it requires. The blind attempting to lead the blind so to speak. With all of that said, there is a stark and notable difference between someone who is aiming to guide, and someone who is looking for power. A guide walks among you, one with the group, sharing knowledge and calling out those who are doing harm from within, the power hungry walk with a confidence they have not earned, declaring themselves to be looking into your best interest, while spewing misinformation. They will talk constantly of the people that have come to them for guidance, “a 23 year old from (here), a 19 year old from (there), ect.” I have even seen people adding prayers to the end of their messages that include their own name as an authority, “Lord Satan, in the name of (person) I bid thee enter me…” These are the ones to watch out for. The ones who will lead you down a much more dangerous path than that of Satanism. These are the want to be cult leaders that will pull you off the path of Lord Satan’s grace and into a mire of uncertainty. 

No one will ever know your craft better than you. No one will ever know your thoughts and feelings better than you. It is so important that we are critical of all information given to us and the people who give it. Pay attention to their intentions and make sure to step away when you feel as though someone is attempting to lead people astray or cause harm to a community who is already dwindling. Call out the people who are doing harm, calling themselves evil doers and whatnot, as they will poison the well of information that our community can provide. Call out those who refuse to acknowledge the facts in favor of a pretty truth. But most importantly, keep yourselves safe. Most of these people do not realize the harm that they do, and that isn't an excuse to allow them to continue to do it because they “mean well.”

I have faith in you all to continue down this path in a manner that aligns you with Lord Satan. I will always be here to guide those of you who struggle, but I will never ask you for any sort of devotion to me or this page.

May Lord Satan's light guide you even in the darkest of times!

Ave Satanas!

[sky-kenobye]

Fic Tag Game

Thanks @ineffable-snowman for the tag! :D

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

7 works, 5 of them are my own fics and the other 2 are translations (in french) of other people's fics

2. What's your Ao3 word count?

18,740 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only Star Wars at the moment. I used to write for Harry Potter but not anymore, and one translation is from a Sherlock fic and I sort of tried to write for that fandom but never managed anything.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Who's having a gay crisis? (424 kudos) (HP)

2. Partenaire Particulier (397 kudos) (HP)

3. Not exactly common (221 kudos) (HP)

4. Happy as a stick bug (132 kudos) (SW)

5. I wish you with me always (99 kudos) (SW)

(I honestly don't think they deserve to be in that order, I would put the entire thing upside down lol. But drarry/hp in general is a much bigger fandom than obikin and they're older fics, so more time to get kudos. And my top one doesn't deal with aroace stuff so it must have helped too.)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to, yes! I might not if it's just a few emojis or a very very short one, and sometimes I just forget, but I like when authors answer my comments so I try to do the same.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None of them, I'm a fluff writer, I can't handle the unhappy endings 😅 I guess the worst one might be my very first fic, that must still be somewhere on ff.net, it was a pretty angsty/bittersweet fic (and probably very badly written, yikes)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them? They all end with people cuddling/holding hand/being really sappy 🤷 The one where the characters are the happiest is probably I wish you with me always though, it's the only one where nobody's traumatised one way or another.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't so far, luckily. But I don't have that many hits either so less people reading it=less likely to get hate (I think?)

9. Do you write smut? What kind?

Nope! No smut for me I'm afraid, I think I'd be pretty bad at it tbh. I'm not ruling it out but being an aroace virgin myself, I think I'd be a bit out of my depth lol. But if I ever do it'll probably be the sappiest most vanilla smut you've ever seen x)

(I enjoy reading way kinkier stuff, but I don't think I have it in me to write it)

10. Do you write cross-overs?

I haven't so far. If we're talking about characters crossover(?)(like, making characters from different media meet) I'm not sure I ever will, I'm definitely not inspired at the moment. If putting characters in another universe counts as a crossover (like, idk a pacific rim au?), then I probably will eventually, yeah.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so, probably not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I did some translations myself. I'm vaguely thinking about translating my own fics in french though. It's thanks to translations of fics that I started reading in english, and it's thanks to that that I became so good in english, so like, I owe fic translators a lot? And I also feel kinda bad about speaking french but "gatekeeping" my fics by writing them only in english. Idk.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, I don't think that's for me, too much pressure to write something good and that the other author(s) actually like.

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

Hmm 🤔 I want to say obikin because they're my current absolute fav, and they might rank first in term of investment, and maybe even intensity, but it's a relatively recent ship for me soooo 🤷 My oldest and longest lasting was Harry/Ginny, but I wasn't quite as much into it as other ships. Drarry was a pretty intense one for a while but I went multiple times from being obsessed with it to being almost squicked by it, so I don't think they can go first. Stucky, Dinluke and Johnlock are up there too but idk.

15. What's your WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Idk if it counts but I wanted to write a sequel to Partenaire Particulier. I didnt have anything really planed but I really wanted a sequel and I promised up and down that I would write it, no matter how long it took. And uuuh, now I left the fandom and don't intend on getting back to it 😬 So that's haunting me a little bit.

16. What are your writing strength?

Strength? No strength here sir.

I'm kidding but I really have no idea. Dialogue comes the easiest to me but I'm not sure I'm actually good at it, i tend do make my characters ramble and go on emotional rants.

Or in middle school I wrote a scene description so good that my teacher read it for the whole classroom, so maybe that was my strength back then? I was twelve though.

And I dont know if it's a strength, a weakness or just a fact but almost all my fics so far are about aro/ace/qpr stuff (projecting much? me? naah. 👀)

(If anybody wants to tell me what's good in my writing I'd kiss you on the mouth)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Blending dialogue and not-dialogue (forgor the name). I either write 1k without anyone speaking or 1k straight of dialogue but you don't know what anybody's doing. I try to blend both when I edit but it's haaaard.

Also sometimes I feel like I have the vocabulary of a 5 years old.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it can be perfectly fine if the pov isn't supposed to understand what's being said, or if it's translated straight away, but when you read a long fic with mando'a every 5 seconds and none of it is translated (or all at the end) it gets pretty annoying and doesnt really add much to the fic. imo if you want a character to speak in a different language you should just write in english, put it in italics, and specify that they speak the other language or something.

The other thing that bother me that I see a lot especially with mando'a in fics, is just putting the word in mando'a in the middle of an English sentence. That's not how being bilingual works!! (at least not that much). Like, I don't call my sister "my soeur", so why do the clones call each other vode in basic? Idk, it doesn't bother me enough to stop reading, it's more of a mild annoyance, but it doesn't really make much sense to me.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter! But Star Wars is the first fandom where I'm actually (somewhat) active and interacting with people instead of lurking and blurting out a fic every once in a while.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I'll go with I wish you with me always. I think I made a decent job at writing it and qpr are just so important to me. It also made me sooo happy to see so many other people liking it <3

But I think my wedding au will steal the first place if I ever manage to finish it!

I feel like everybody had already done this a while ago, so I'm tagging whoever is reading this and hasnt done it before!

[padfootastic]

Ahaha thank you for the nice comments in tags <3 i love Remus but he seems bit like a spineless people pleaser and after dating somebody who would rather lie about their feelings than have people be mildly upset with them..... I chose violence 🗡

no but ur so right because!!! i’ve been sleeping on this for a while but let’s talk about remus’ personality traits and how they have the potential to make him a bad/absent partner, at best, and an abusive one, at worst. everyone wants to turn him into this image of perfection just bc he’s such an ‘uwu victim’ figure in fanon but that’s SO far from the truth omg

(i am…just gonna put this remus character analysis under a cut bc it got unnecessarily long and i wouldn’t want u to read it if u didn’t want to lol)

so, for one, he’s manipulative. he has no combinations in twisting the truth or dodging it entirely for his own benefit. like, the man could stand in front of his dead best friend’s orphaned son & not even allude to the fact that he knew his dad. he had no problem bringing james & lily up in the most twisted ways possible to guilt/emotionally influence harry. so remus in a relationship would have the capacity to either knowingly or unknowingly manipulate his partner. the definition of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss except more sinister.

next, his spinelessness. either as a defensive measure to deal w anti-werewolf hostility or as an innate personality trait, remus has the habit of just—not standing up for things. he looks away when his friends act like assholes, even when he’s in a position of authority (which yes, u can argue that he’s afraid of losing them but atp they’ve literally risked life & magic & azkaban for him so either way, he comes off badly—either he doesn’t mind himself, or he doesn’t fully trust their friendship, or it’s just easier to look away). in a relationship, this can manifest as bottling everything inside u until it makes u bitter or u violently unload on the other person in an entirely disproportionate manner. the dynamic would also be a bit skewed. the people pleasing u mentioned is also such a big thing that people usually overlook. when ur constantly trying to make the other person happy and don’t want to rock the boat, that is a cocktail for miscommunication and breakdown of relationships. ur also constantly putting the emotional burden of constructively dealing w issues on ur partner instead of doing it urself.

connected to his cowardice is his habit of running away when things get tough. remus is conflict avoidant; he does not like to put himself in a position where he has to take a decisive stance, especially if it’s against what others around him believe in. he runs away when things get tough, and tbh, for me, this comes from a constant spiral of self hatred & self victimisation, both of which stem from his experience as a werewolf. in every difficult situation, he centres himself & his discomfort and instead of dealing with it and moving forward for a constructive solution, he decides that stepping back from it altogether is better. which, yeah, works well for him bc he can temporarily put a pin in it but it’s kinda terrible for everyone’s who’s left behind. so i also think that remus is a profoundly selfish character who doesn’t look beyond the end of his own nose. u can imagine how those traits might manifest themselves in a relationship.

and his people pleasing!! so this might be verging on fanon but his gratitude and/or devotion to dumbledore sets an…interesting tone. it’s also another example of how he cannot conceive himself in any other term except as a victimised werewolf. the marauders did a lot for him, arguably even more than dumbledore’s token representation formula, but he never felt indebted to them the way he did for D. dumbledore also kind of makes him feel needed? validates his feelings? and that just speaks to a very twisted sense of self for me. which, again, won’t bode well for his other interpersonal relations.

also, on a very hc note, i also feel like remus just…does not have any significant capacity to love. he takes and takes and takes but doesn’t give much in return. this doesn’t even have to be an actively malicious decision, tbh, just a very self-centred one. he doesn’t realise how much he’s taking bc he’s only thinking about his own circumstances.

all of these are also just why i can’t see r/s working out in any healthy manner. remus is exactly antithetical to everything sirius is/believes in, and not even in the fun ‘opposites attract’ way. but that’s another rant no one asked for lmao

[panic-at-the-waffle-house]

I don’t like BookTok :)

I know the is isn’t the “hottest take” but I just don’t like it for a lot of reasons, one big one is that it spreads the idea of “you can’t read that book”.

Growing up, I always lived by the idea that you should read what you enjoy/makes you happy. Reading in general does wonders for the brain and creativity. This is coming from not only an avid reader, but someone whose mom was a reading teacher, albeit for elementary school. The growth of all of the students was amazing and they weren’t English speakers at all. She had students who could fluently speak it/read it to kids who knew nothing. I grew up in a VERY diverse town in the Midwest. Like white people were the MINORITY. So that also meant we had a lot of different cultures and different books/entertainment that was specific to that culture.

Anyway back to books lol.

The biggest critique I have with BookTok is that if there’s a book or series you like, someone is bound to nitpick it for some reason. I love criticism of a book, I think it’s great and being able to point out flaws leads to deep discussion. But a lot of the time, people like these books simply because THEY LIKE IT. You don’t have to like it, but they like it. Main examples are books by Colleen Hoover (I have my gripes with her, I can’t stand her books), but the people who read her books enjoy them so I’m not going to harass or bully them for something they enjoy. SJ Mass is another author who gets a lot of flame, again for reasonable reasons, but even I have enjoyed her books.

I really got into YA fantasy like early high school and late middle school. One of the first series I read was the Throne of Glass series which I picked up since my mom had the first book. I actually really enjoyed it and I was in like 7th grade at the time so some of the simplicity and common tropes were well worth it for me. But as I got older and tried to re-read the series, I couldn’t. I fell in love with the side characters more than the main ones. (Dorian was my number one boy and he still is. I was so excited whenever he appeared. Still my fav character.) I didn’t care for Aelin, Rowan, or some others simply because I just didn’t really care for them. They’re fine, just not my favs and I know some people love them which is valid.

I couldn’t even finish ACOTAR. I got halfway through and DNF’d it. I don’t care for first person point of view in general and I didn’t like her characters or the plot. Roman e was never my thing—I love it as a side plot but if the entire book is about romance I find it boring. I barely made it through The Selection.

Before fantasy YA, I was big into dystopian. THG was my first real YA book and I loved it, with the Maze Runner after it. It’s my favorite YA fictional series to this day even though it has its flaws. The move from dystopian to fantasy was very much in a certain span of my life and now I see it being so popular in media which is great. Except for the people who don’t know how to respect OPINIONS. Not only that, but gatekeeping makes me mad.

All through my life I liked reading classics, classics of every region. My mom always had classic books lying around so I would pick them up and the ones from the different ethnic groups and cultures were always at the public library for me to read. That’s how I got books like

Crime and Punishment- Russian Literature

No Longer Human- Japanese Literature

The Iliad- Greek Literature

Dracula-Irish Literature

Journey to The West-Chinese Literature

The Idiot- Japanese Literature

Don Quixote-Spanish Literature

And so many others at an early age. Some of them are well known and some aren’t—which is normal. But when some people who read classics look down on others or say “you can’t read that because you’re doing it to be quirky”, it bothers me. I always wanted to talk to others about these books and damn it I was STRUGGLING to find people to talk to about The Great Gatsby who actually liked it in seventh grade. This is PROMINENT in the BSD fandom since the characters are named after famous classical authors and some people are stuck up, not wanting these books to be read.

It never made sense to me. Maybe I’m the stupid one.

Overall, there are very few people on BookTok who I enjoy watching or listening to. Each series has its highlights and its flaws, like humans do, so just let people enjoy a book damnit. And if people want to vent or explain why they DONT like a book let them damnit.

Anyway what’s a book that scarred you for like???? I read Where The Red Feen Grows at like 10 years old and am still traumatized by it. :D

[anti-lies]

Anti-Endo Affirmation: Remember That Endos Expecting You to Read Sources Is Bigotry

You know what is real and that's all that matters. You've heard The Truth from close friends. You've heard it from strangers. You've seen it in Carrds people have linked.

These endos like to push lots of "sources" from "doctors" that contradict what you know is true, but you don't have to trust or read them.

Remember that what so-called sources they provide are often packed with dense and confusing language and you should never feel obligated to read or try to understand them in order to act like an authority on the subject.

Know that you're on the right side no matter what and be confident in that. Your own experiences and beliefs, and those of your friends, are all the sources you need.

And because the language in endo "sources" is so hard to understand and the papers are so long, them expecting you to read those sources is actually bigoty.

Not everyone can read long peer reviewed academic papers. So therefore, they shouldn't have to if they want to act like an authority on them.

Some of us have mental illnesses that make it difficult. Some of us have poor educations for socioeconomic reasons. Some of us may not even be in high school yet so our brains aren't fully developed.

If an endo tells me to read their "sources" to be able to talk about something, I would tell them that expecting me to do that is bigotry. It's ableism, classism, and ageism against us.

Endos are trying to gatekeep our ability to speak as an authority on a topic simply because we lack education and understanding of that topic. And that, I've decided, is wrong.

Remember that The Truth is whatever you make it and whatever you want it to be. Your ability to state The Truth confidently as fact should never ever be deterred by a lack of knowledge or understanding. And to say otherwise is bigotry.

[growing-yet-into-magic]

Hello there! Firstly i want to say that i have been following your blog for a while now, and the posts that you have gathered here have been incredibly informative and thought-provocing and for that i wanted to thank you!

Secondly, i have a question that i hope you will answer, because i need a second opinion, and yours would mean a lot to me.

I have read a particular passage of rules that are associated with the subreddit r/witchcraft:

„We all practice the craft in our own way, and this subreddit's official stance is that anybody can practice anything that they want in witchcraft. We firmly believe that all humans are capable, able, and "allowed" to study and practice witchcraft however they want.

**We do not allow, gatekeeping, crusading or evangelism.**

**Racialization:** Telling somebody that they "have to be" a certain ethnicity "in order to practice" anything within witchcraft.

**Gatekeeping:** The act of telling others what they may or may not practice.

**Crusading:** The act of forcing your virtues or ideals upon others.

**Evangelism:** The act of preaching or spreading Christian ideals.

This subreddit is here for all to practice witchcraft, and all of these listed ideals are exclusionary.

#***Exclusionary ideals are not tolerated on r/witchcraft.***“

Now i agree with most of the things that are being said, but i believe that there are practices out there that are closed, and that not everyone should practice them because of a whole array of reasons that you are probably able to distinguish.

Adding onto that, i have read there that basically the belief is presented that a practice isn't „closed“ anymore when there is information about it available to public, and can therefore be practiced by everyone. And that specifically irked me in several wrong ways.

I'm sorry for the incredibly long explanation; i basically wanted to hear your opinion on this, because i know that you're surely able to add your valuable 2 cents to this train of thought. Thank you for your time!

*takes a long sip of 10pm coffee* You know what? I don't even have a good response for this. This is just Bad. If an ethnic religion has a central authority or mode of conversion or set of rituals, of course there's going to be reasons as to when and how you can participate. It's not even "gatekeeping"; it's dictating the field of play. You can probably join in IF you do X Y and respect Z. People are allowed to determine the standards to uphold their local beliefs. That's what initiation and training are for.

And "racializing"? As in making things newly about race? For the first time? Lots ethnic religions ARE racially derived BECAUSE of how they formed and how they operate as ancestral practice. It is weird to demand aid and prosperity from African ancestors if you're not Black, actually. Divorcing aspects of the craft from their original peoples and sources is at minimum, ignorant, and is at most, re-perpetuation of colonization. I certainly couldn't ask kami for favors I haven't earned or speak to aboriginal ancestors as if they were my own. What?? Why would you walk up to a random old lady whose name you found in the phone book and say "Grandma can I have $300 please 🥺"

It's so weird to be like "And how DARE you force your beliefs onto others!!" when it's like...minority ethnic groups and smaller cultural niches trying to fight back against forced homogenization in an age of cultural Christianity. Keeping these spaces hostile to minority ethnic groups, religions, and spiritual practices just means that you're going to end up with a largely White cloud of casters, and you know how amazing that turns out for diversity of thought, empathy to others, and cultural competency /s 🥲 it's never gone wrong before! /s

[djemsostylist]

In general I feel that most adaptations are terrible, and, at least for all modern adaptations, exist purely to make money for a studio desperate to become "The Next Big Thing™". Now by and large I don't particularly care; does it suck that The Witcher ended up being a super boring political slog instead of a fun monster of the week adventure with a girl and her parents? Sure, but I'm not a part of the The Witcher fandom, most book/game fans recognize the show is shit, and by and large its skipped the public consciousness such that it makes little no impact on much. In fact, The Witcher might, if anything, shed light on creators crapping all over existing IPs to make a name for themselves by using a preexisting IP as a resume to make the things they actually want to make.

Wheel of Time I have no investment in, having never watched the show or read the books, but I'm given to understand that by and large, its fairly universally disliked, and that the book fans are disappointed but largely unaffected by it's current crapness except to note its crapness and move on.

That's not to say that these sort of shit adaptations aren't disappointing; they certainly are, but because the two fandoms were largely unknown in the public conscious, and bad enough that even the most "normy" of people skipped by them, their effect on the existing IP is little.

Star Wars is it's own sort of hell, because while the characters I love are mostly safe (thanks in large part to Disney deciding to write their own stories, thereby inadvertently saving my characters from a fate worse than death), the utter crapness of the current DisneyWars saturates enough of my online fandom life to be mildly annoying in that I can't avoid it. But also, people who are obsessed with Ezra or think that Ashoka Tano are the best thing ever don't bother me much, bc in the Star Wars I knew and loved, these people never existed.

Tolkien is different in a way that is often hard to express, but I think it comes down to both his feelings about his stories, and also the general view of the public. I've had this argument with people a million times, that while yes, the books will always exist, with the current way that media is consumed, the amount of people who have actually read ANY Tolkien at all is smaller than you'd think. I've stumbled across countless posts from people talking about how they are huge Lord of the Rings fans, and have never even read Fellowship.

Now, I'm fully aware that there are people who will be offended by this so called "gatekeeping", but I remain baffled by the sheer number of Tolkien fans who have never actually consumed any of his written works. I'm aware that the Silmarillion is dense, and I'm certainly not about to recommend HoMe to the average reader, but the number of people who speak with authority (and incorrectly) on the themes of his works that have never read past Rivendell is astounding.

And the issue is, by and large, Tolkien is known now more by the Lord of the Rings movies made in the early aughties than he is by the works he wrote. Christopher Tolkien worked tirelessly to ensure that this father's authentic work would be persevered, that anything published posthumously would adhere so strictly to the vision of his father that large chunks remain unwritten to this day.

And then Amazon comes in and bulldozes over everything, and we are asked to be okay with it. More than that, we are asked to accept it, to stop being worried or concerned about it, to just shut up and live with it.

It doesn't matter if you like Rings of Power. It doesn't matter if you have never read a single Tolkien book in your life. It doesn't matter if you think Tolkien is an overblown writer who cared too much about nature and language and not enough about stories (an argument I have sadly seen far too much). The fact remains that Rings of Power and its writers did not give a single fuck about writing anything close to what Tolkien wrote or would have wanted. Rings of Power is crafted to be a resume for it's showrunners on their next steps to Hollywood, and attempt to create the next "GOT", the next Big Thing that will garner them enough fame and attention to let them do what they really want in Hollywood. The show cares nothing for it's source material--that much is clear from the handling of the characters, the butchering of the timelines, the mere fact that they seem to have not even given a single thought to theme or message or meaning.

And while sure, I will always have Tolkien's works for myself and those people who actually love Tolkien, and not the visual representations of his works, butchered onscreen (and yes, I do mean the Jackson movies as well), by and large with the passage of time, Tolkien will come to mean less the stories loving written of a world he envisioned, and more to mean the corporate schlock turned out for profit or the lovingly misguided fan interpretation of one of the greatest fantasy stories of all times, at least to the larger public conscious.

I will never feel bad about my criticism of Rings of Power. Never. Because it wasn't created for anything more than corporate greed and resume building, and each new fact revealed cannot convince me otherwise.

Celeborn is merely the longest in a long line of characters who are victims to a story that uses their names but not their likeness, not their soul, not who they are to the story they were used to create. At this point, it doesn't even make me mad, it makes me sad. The Second Age has always been important to me, for the stories it told and the characters it created, and watching it be handled like this hurts. And I doubt it will ever stop.

[meevling]

Writing my thoughts here because I have no interest in creating a big scene and I know my audience on tumblr is small and wholesome but I desire to say some of my thoughts out loud. 

I am a queer creator. I make jewellery for a living. I’m in my first year of business of doing this full time and I am struggling as all new businesses do, but I’ve been applying to vendor shows that I think suit my work and doing my best to keep at it! 

So this June, I applied for a show in a local town. This show was made to be an inclusive pride-type event. Now, why I don’t say it is strictly pride is for several reasons. One, I know the people organizing the event and they are not part of the queer community. They did not feel comfortable running a pride event because they didn’t want to try and speak over queer people. A second reason is because here in Canada it is Indigenous History month. Now this town is undeniably built on the genocide and displacement of indigenous people. This is very important to acknowledge and talk about it. So these organizers were hoping to allow this event to branch out into not just pride, but also discussing diversity and lifting up marginalized people from all walks of life. Because of this, they advertised it as a celebration of diversity, instead of a pride event, simply hoping to open up more safe spaces for discussion of acceptance in our otherwise very white, very conservative community. 

I was very excited about this event. I am asexual, as is my girlfriend. We were both going to be running a booth together, me selling my jewellery, and her selling her book as well as books by other local queer authors. 

However, our local pride community saw this advertising, saw its vague wording, and immediately assumed that it was because they didn’t want to rub the more conservative locals the wrong way. I’m not here to say that this is completely wrong, nor am I here to discredit this concern. I also had a similar thought when seeing the first advertisements. I still believe that some mention of pride could even be added, but after speaking to the people running the event, I do also understand their feelings. They were also open with me about the fact that they would happily help groups such as this pride group to run events and organize a march. They had tried to reach out to the group but hadn’t received much communication back. 

Now this group has decided to protest the event. Instead of trying to reach out to the organizers and discuss with them the concerns they had, they went ahead and organized a protest/march on the same day at the same time and publicly made it clear that they disapproved of this event being wary of calling itself a pride event. Because of this, a large majority of the vendors have dropped out and now it looks as though the event will be cancelled altogether. 

I am absolutely defeated by this news. As an asexual, I have hesitated to try and involve myself in pride after so much erasure and gatekeeping that I’ve experienced. I’ve often been made to feel as though I don’t belong. With this being my first attempt at stepping into a more forefront involvement in the community, only to have it be cancelled by the very people who it was supposed to help bolster, simply makes me feel as though I will never be able to fit in. 

What frustrates me even more is the fact that it just feels as though the homophobes have won and they didn’t even have to lift a finger. This was going to be the first real pride I have experienced in this small town, and now it probably won’t happen. The goal of this event was to be INCLUSIVE and it feels so much like the gatekeeping I’ve already experienced that it’s being protested for this. Should pride not be about inclusivity? Should we not be able to celebrate marginalized groups from all walks of life? Why can’t the two coexist and help bring those together who have so often felt out of place and unwelcome here? 

I dunno. I understand why they were upset, I understand that these people are people who have had to fight tooth and nail for acceptance and inclusivity wherever they go and so often feel the need to start things with a fight, I’m just so tired of having to fight my own community. If we worked together, we could have created a wonderful event. I wish the pride group all the luck with their march and protest. I hope it goes well, I hope they are able to show people that queer people are allowed to exist as well, I just wish that this all didn’t come at the expense of other queer people.

[nowgiveusakiss]

tw: talks of assault and minor safety, but nothing graphic or detailed

so apparently i missed some really awful, disturbing, fucked up stuff in the fanfiction community over the last couple of days. specifically the eddie munson fanfiction community. i haven’t been scrolling the dash recently as i’ve been going through a specific authors masterlist but i guess i’m glad it’s been taking me so long because i don’t know if would’ve been able to handle seeing that content.

with all that being said, as this is mainly an eddie fanfic rec blog, i want to publicly state that i do not and will never condone that behavior/content. i work in an environment where i read police reports of things of that nature every day and it is NOT something to “fantasize” about. it’s vile and i cannot put into words how absolutely horrific it is that people are creating content glorifying such traumatic and life ruining events.

i have not seen the post, nor the blog as it seems it was (thankfully) taken down. i only know it’s contents based on posts from blogs i follow speaking out against the situation. it is very comforting to know that my favorite authors/blogs have spoken out and condemned this behavior.

i would also like to take this moment to reiterate that if i see any minors interacting with this blog, you will be blocked. my blog is not meant for minors. and no, it’s not “gatekeeping” content by restricting them. we are protecting them. they do not need to be engaging with adult content as they are not adults. period. end of sentence. and like someone else said, it isn’t our job to police the entire internet. however, i will and have been policing my little corner (this blog).

anyways, i don’t have much more to say that hasn’t already been said. like i mentioned, i missed all of this over the last couple of days and was only made aware of it about an hour ago.

due to me being absent for a majority of this, if you know of any blogs that were interacting/supporting that blog/post, please PM me so i can block them accordingly. i haven’t seen anyone i follow supporting but i’d like to keep all of the people who do as far away from me and my safe space as humanly possible.

i’m so grateful that the majority of this community is so wonderful. so thank you to all of you who make this community worth being a part of. know you will always shine brighter than the bad.

[theprayerfulword]

August 04

John 10:10 The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.

Matthew 11:28 Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Hebrews 13:5 [God] has said, “I will never leave you or forsake you.”

Isaiah 55:11 The LORD said, “My word . . . that goeth forth out of my mouth . . . shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please.”

Colossians 1:11 We also pray that you will be strengthened with all his glorious power so you will have all the endurance and patience you need. May you be filled with joy,

Psalm 42:5 Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him for the help of His presence.

May you willingly give of the abundance God has blessed you with, whether skill in music, or truth from the Word, or understanding in prayer, or encouragement in fellowship, or ability in organization, for all you have has been given to you by God, that others around may know the joy of worship in the fullness of what the Body of Christ can bring to Him. 2 Chronicles 35

May you gladly support your fellow-workers as they go about their duties, and bring to them the enjoyment and refreshing of the fellowship of the Spirit, strengthening the bonds of the love of God, even as the Levites did, during Josiah's Passover, to all who ministered, from the priests to the gatekeepers. 2 Chronicles 35

May you understand that God will use those who do not confess or proclaim Him in order to establish His will, for when Nebuchadnezzar took the sacred articles from the temple in Jerusalem and carried them to Babylon, God was preserving them in safety until the time when His people would return to rebuild the place of His worship. 2 Chronicles 36

May you always thank God because of His grace given you in Christ Jesus, for in Him you have been enriched in every way – in all your speaking and in all your knowledge – because the testimony of Christ is confirmed in you. 1 Corinthians 1

May you eagerly wait for the Lord Jesus Christ to be revealed for He will keep you strong to the end and make sure you do not lack any spiritual gift, so that you will be blameless on the day of the Lord Jesus Christ. For God, Who has call you into fellowship with His Son Jesus Christ the Lord, is faithful. 1 Corinthians 1

May you walk in agreement with each other, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought. 1 Corinthians 1

May you always preach the gospel, but not with words of human wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power. 1 Corinthians 1

Give heed to My Spirit, My child, for He is your appointed teacher. Any who disregard His promptings, any who dismiss His help, any who disobey His directions, will not prosper but will fall, losing even what they thought they had. To ignore the Spirit of God is to ignore God; to reject the Spirit of Truth is to reject the power and authority of My Word. To refuse the discipline and chastening of the Holy Spirit is to refuse the love of the Father and His comfort in times of distress, as well. Do not fear the work of the Spirit in your heart and your life, My dear one, for He is the envoy the Father has sent you at My request. There is no greater gift that I could give you than that of the Holy Spirit once the first part of My work on earth was done. He searches all things, even the deep things of God, knowing the mind of God and revealing to you that which will strengthen, correct, encourage, and lead you in the paths you should follow. The work of the Spirit is to prepare a Bride for Me, My dear one. He searches the hearts of men, going to and fro throughout the world making much of Me, knowing each one whose heart quickens at His description of the Groom. He draws each one whose desire is to know more; He pours out the love from God into those hearts. To each one who echoes it back, stirring to life, responding with love in return, He speaks more about Me, revealing My truth to you, and transforming you into My image. Open your heart to My Spirit, My yearning one. Know that I give only good gifts from My love for you, and the gift of the Holy Spirit is the way I have chosen to show you how earnest and serious I am about the promises I have made to you. If you hear Him and obey, you will receive from Him that which you are seeking from Me. Walk in the Spirit, My doting one, and you will not walk in the flesh but be victorious as one of My over-comers, and will be transformed in ways you have no words for nor have the concepts even entered into your imagination. Let Him lead you into praise for He knows Me fully, even as you shall before long. Your yearning heart for Me is only a reflection of My yearning heart for you which He has revealed to you. Follow the leading of My Spirit, and we shall be together in eternity.

May you have no fear of the enemies who advance against you – for who is worthy of such fearful regard when you have the Lord as your light and salvation? Psalm 27

May you not be afraid though an army besieges you, for the Lord is the stronghold of your life. Psalm 27

May you be confident in the Lord even though a host of the enemy deploys against you. Psalm 27

May you ask of the Lord that you may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of your life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek Him in His temple. Psalm 27

May the Lord keep you safe in His dwelling in that day of your trouble, and hide you in the shelter of His tabernacle, setting you high upon a rock. Psalm 27

May you sing and make music to the Lord at His tabernacle where you will sacrifice with shouts of joy, for the Lord will exalt your head above the enemies who surround you. Psalm 27

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for December 2, 2023

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 29:15-17 (KJV): 15 The rod and reproof give wisdom: but a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame. 16 When the wicked are multiplied, transgression increaseth: but the righteous shall see their fall. 17 Correct thy son, and he shall give thee rest; yea, he shall give delight unto thy soul. Proverbs 29:15-17 (AMP): 15 The rod and reproof give wisdom, but a child left undisciplined brings his mother to shame. 16 When the wicked are in authority, transgression increases, but the (uncompromisingly) righteous shall see the fall of the wicked. 17 Correct your son, and he will give you rest; yes, he will give delight to your heart.

Thought for the Day

Verses 15 and 17 - The theme of correcting children is addressed many times in Proverbs. This indicates how important it is to discipline our children. As we have seen in several other studies, we must do several things if we desire our children to bring us delight and not shame.

Here is a quick summary of what we have already studied. First, we need to realize that correction is an integral part of raising a child in God's ways. It is not an option if we desire to have joy and not shame from our children. Second, we must administer correction with the rod (spanking). Young children need the discipline of a spanking from time to time, though it must never be administered in anger, which can lead to abuse. Instruction is necessary before and after a spanking, for a child always needs to be told very clearly what he did wrong. Third, we must continue to correct our children by reproof. As a child ages, the rod is used less, and reproof is used more. Even as young adults, our children require the correction of reproof from time to time. This prepares them to receive the reproof and correction of the Lord.

Verse 16–We have looked at several proverbs that speak of the dreadful impact that wicked leaders have upon a nation. This proverb reminds us that regardless of how much wickedness may increase in these last days, Christ will one day return. And we, together with all the righteous by faith from all the ages, shall see the fall of the wicked. The Bible tells us in many places that the Lord will remove the wicked from the earth when He establishes His righteous reign. “For the upright shall dwell in the land, and the perfect shall remain in it. But the wicked shall be cut off from the earth, and the transgressors shall be rooted out of it” (Proverbs 2:21-22).

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, we thank you for the blessing of children. Lord, help all Christian parents to heed the Bible's instructions for rearing their children. Father, there are many voices in the world telling us how to do things; however, we want to know what the Bible says about child-rearing. Lord, since You created us, then surely Your advice would be the best advice to follow, as You know how to do all things in perfection. Give us divine wisdom in the area of child-rearing, and give us grace to spank our children when they need that discipline. I ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen. From: Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ,  gatekeeperwatchman.org Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups, Friday, December 1, 2023, Jacksonville, Florida., USA.  X ... @ParkermillerQ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller, #Eldermiller1981 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Sparkermiller.JAX.FL.USA