#i could go on forever and ever. they are such a feast of interesting complex emotions.

[sciderman]

Ngl, I usually get disinterested in romantic fanfics/fancomics/etc... after the two main characters get together because to me the fun is all the shenanigans that come before that point... Ask-spiderpool is one of the only exceptions I've found because everything after is still so interesting !! The drama ! The miscommunications ! These boys still have a long way to go and the plot is still alive and well and I am here for it <3 You just make them so interesting. They have so many issues. I love them

GOD they have so many issues...

i think i see so often this sentiment that like, once the couple gets together that's it, and they're healed. they're sorted – i don't think humans operate that way - and god, characters like wade and peter? dear god. these guys????????????????

these guys...

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Five

Love in the Dark: You discover an intense connection with an enigmatic dream lover, yearning for a love beyond physical appearances. As your encounters blur the lines between the waking world and the Dreaming, your grapple with the complexities of desire, friendship, and mortality. Can you truly love in the dark?

Warnings: Language.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.7k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Perched atop a marble table in the grand library, you swing your legs back and forth, enjoying the peace and quiet that permeates the room. Or perhaps not so quiet, you are having a conversation. Matthew and Fēlix are both at your side, engaged in a light-hearted debate about palace rumors. The former's feathers ruffle as he speaks with the distinct lilt of a man turned raven. A spicy one at that.

"Lucienne told me that Cain and Abel are at it again," Matthew says, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "They've been arguing about who gets to host the next feast."

Fēlix scoffs, shaking his head. "Those two could argue about anything," he replies, his eyes glinting with mirth. "Eons and they still can't seem to get along. I blame it on their story."

"Yeah, doesn't Cain kill Abel every day?" You hum a yes to Matthew's question and wonder how Goldie is doing.

"They have to relive their story; it's part of them being denizens within the realm," you explain, glancing at Fēlix who nods in agreement.

"Must be exhausting," Fēlix muses, leaning forward now, his interest piqued. "I mean, imagine going through that every single day. Cain digs a hole, every single day, forever. At least he doesn't seem to mind it, I've seen their laundry bills. Blood is a bitch to get out of clothes."

"That's what hydrogen peroxide is for," You interject lazily, swinging your legs some more. You glance around the library, taking in the high ceilings, intricate carvings, and towering shelves filled with books, their spines stamped in glimmering gold.

The scent of old parchment and ink fills your nose, bringing a sense of comfort and familiarity. Despite its grandeur, the library has always felt like a cozy sanctuary to you. A place where you can escape the chaos of the Dreaming and simply lose yourself in the pages of a story. When not within the arms of your dream lover.

"So, what else is new around here?" you ask Fēlix, picking up where your conversation left off. "Any other juicy tidbits you've heard?" You pull up your legs and lean forward, resting your chin on your knees, eager for some form of entertainment.

Fēlix pauses for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I heard that Rhyme is trying to teach Riddles how to dance," he says, grinning, his cardinal compass glowing brightly. "Apparently, they've been practicing in one of the empty ballrooms."

Matthew snorts, shaking his head. "Can you imagine? Riddles, dancing? I bet it's quite the sight."

You can't help but laugh at the mental image. Riddles, with his perpetually stern expression and rigid posture, attempting to glide across the floor in time to the music. It's quite amusing to think about. He doesn’t have the feet for dance.

"I wonder if they'll ever perform for the rest of us," you muse aloud. "It'd be quite the show, I imagine."

Fēlix shrugs, his shoulders lifting beneath his dreamy golden robes. "Who knows? Maybe we can convince them to give us a private performance sometime."

"Or just have a ball," You throw in.

Matthew's beady eyes sparkle at the idea, and he hops up and down, a flutter of black feathers. "A ball? In the palace? Can you imagine? The music, the food, the dance! The food!"

"You said food twice," You point out as Lucienne, seated across from were you are perched on the table, lifts her head from the book she's been engrossed in. Her glasses perch on the bridge of her nose, reflecting the warm light of the candles scattered around the room.

"A ball?" She raises an eyebrow, peering over her spectacles. "What's all this about a ball?"

Fēlix leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and grinning at Matthew. "It was just an idea," he explains. "Imagine how fun it would be to have everyone dressed up and dancing around!”

Lucienne looks thoughtful for a moment before shrugging. "It could be fun," she admits. "But it would also be a lot of work and we would have to broach the subject with Lord Morpheus."

You glance at Lucienne, intrigued. "Do you think he'd go for it?"

Lucienne shrugs, her glasses glinting in the soft candlelight. "Who knows? Lord Morpheus is full of surprises."

Matthew lets out a soft caw, his feathers ruffling in amusement. "I'd love to see him all dressed up for a ball! He's got style."

Fēlix chuckles, the sound echoing around the quiet library. "Who says he hasn't done it before? I've heard stories about his penchant for balls. What do you think, Kora?" Fēlix asks, turning to you. "Would you like to dance with Lord Morpheus at a ball? I bet you would look incredible."

"I've never even met him, why would I dance with the Lord of the Realm?" You ask, hugging your arms around your folded knees. "Besides, I have absolutely no idea how to dance and you all know I have eyes for someone else, thank you very much."

"Like I wouldn't teach you," Fēlix huffs.

You blink at Fēlix, a small chuckle escaping your lips. "You? Teach me to dance?" You give him a playful nudge with your elbow. "That'd be a sight."

Fēlix shrugs nonchalantly, his cardinal compass glinting. "I happen to be a great dancer," he says, feigning offense. "Matthew can vouch for me."

Matthew chortles, the sound akin to the crackling of dry leaves underfoot. "Fēlix has two left feet," he caws, earning a light swat from the dream in question.

"You're just jealous," Fēlix retorts, sticking his tongue out at Matthew.

The raven only squawks in reply, fluttering his wings.

Ignoring their banter, you slide off the table and wander over to one of the towering bookshelves. You run your fingers along the spines of the books, their embossed titles glimmering beneath your fingertips.

"What about you, Lucienne?" you call over your shoulder, plucking a book from the shelf at random. "Would you dance at this hypothetical ball?"

Lucienne hums thoughtfully from her spot across the room. "Perhaps," she replies after a moment's pause. "It's been quite some time since I last danced."

You grin at her response and open the book in your hands. It's an old fairy tale, one you've read countless times before but never tire of. A loud raven call draws your attention away from the book and back to Matthew and Fēlix who are now arguing about whether Goldie could beat Cain in an arm-wrestling match.

"I think she could," Fēlix says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "Goldie's stronger than she looks."

Matthew squawks in disagreement, flapping his wings in indignation. "Cain is the eldest! He's got strength on his side."

Rolling your eyes at their antics, you stride over to the pair. "Alright, you two. Enough about Cain and Goldie. We all know Goldie could take him down without breaking a sweat. It would only take a look."

Matthew caws in protest, but Fēlix only grins at you, a twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, look at you, defending Goldie's honor," he teases.

Ignoring his jibe, you cross your arms over your chest and give them both a stern look. "What's next on the agenda? Gossiping about who's dating who?"

Fēlix leans back in his chair. "Speaking of dating, Kora," he begins, a teasing lilt to his voice, "I've been wondering about this dream lover of yours."

Matthew ruffles his feathers and turns to look at you with a quizzical tilt of his head. "Oh yes, your secret lover. We've all been dying to know more.”

You roll your eyes and try to wave them off, but it only seems to fuel their curiosity.

"Come on, Kora," Fēlix insists, grinning like a cat who got the cream. "Give us a hint. Is he a dream or a nightmare?"

Matthew hops closer to you on the table, his beady eyes sparkling with interest. "Yeah, does he have wings? Or maybe horns? Ooh! Or maybe he's one of those fancy types with a crown?"

You let out an exasperated sigh but can't help the smile that tugs at your lips. "You're both incorrigible," you chastise them lightly. "I'm not telling."

Fēlix pouts at you, feigning hurt. "Not even a little hint?"

"Especially not a hint," you retort playfully.

"You don't even know, do you," Fēlix finally huffs. "Always with the blindfold. Come on, give me some detail about him. How tall is he? What's his voice like? How big is his coc—"

"Respectfully," You loudly exclaim, cutting Fēlix off before he had your cheeks blazing with fire. "shut up."

"Aw, come on, Kora," he whines, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes. "Just a tiny hint?"

"No hints!" You declare firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. "And no more asking about it either."

Felix sighs dramatically, slumping back in his chair with a huff. Matthew, however, seems amused by the whole exchange. He gives a caw of laughter, ruffling his feathers.

"I told you she wouldn't tell," he teases Felix, hopping around on the table. Before Felix can respond, the library doors swing open and in walks what you can only describe as the palest goth you've ever seen with the most incredible eyes.

Lucienne straightens in her seat at the sight of him and clears her throat. "Lord Morpheus," she greets formally while you continue to gawk. Holy shit, this, is Morpheus!? Morpheus walks into the room, a picture of gothic elegance. He's taller than you expected, his lean form draped in dark coat that seem to drink in the light around him. But his eyes, his eyes are incredible. "Lord Morpheus," Lucienne repeats with more emphasis, eyeing you out of the corner of her spectacles.

You realize you've been caught staring and quickly avert your gaze, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. You'd heard tales about the Dream Lord, but seeing him in person is an entirely different experience. Matthew and Fēlix are silent for once, their playful banter dying on their lips as they too turn to acknowledge the ruler of this realm.

"Lucienne," Morpheus responds with a slight nod of his head. His voice is deep and velvety smooth, resonating through the library with an uncanny echo. It's as if he carries the whispers of countless dreams and nightmares within him. It's almost familiar to you, but you are fairly sure you would remember meeting a being like him. Even his voice matches his regalness, dripping with a poshness that you can only contribute to him being an Endless. Morpheus nods in response and turns his gaze towards you. His eyes hold an unreadable expression as he takes in your presence. "And who is this?"

You clear your throat and Lucienne seems to pick up on something because she suddenly stands from her seat and gestures towards you. "Kora," she says, catching your attention. "I don't believe you've formally met Lord Morpheus."

You blink at her words before turning to look at Morpheus again. Despite all the times you've seen shadows him around the palace, you've never really spoken to him or been formally introduced. Or really gotten a look at him. And yet... something about him feels familiar. His voice is too deep, too formal, for you to have met him before, surely.

"Lord Morpheus," Lucienne continues, gesturing towards you with an open palm. "This is Kora. She's been a great help around the palace and she's... well, she's become quite a fixture here in the Dreaming and a good friend to Matthew."

His gaze shifts to you again and he gives a slight nod of his head. "Kora," he says, his voice low and rich. "A pleasure to meet you." Oh you definitely would have remembered him with the way he speaks your name. Yet the pesky thought of familiarity still lingers.

You swallow nervously and give a small curtsy, suddenly feeling out of your depth. "The pleasure is all mine, Lord Morpheus," you reply, wracking your brain for some sort of idea on what you were supposed to do in the presence of an Endless. Your mind came up with nothing.

A slow smile curves Morpheus' lips. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," he says, his voice deep and resonating throughout the library. "What were you discussing?"

Matthew's beady eyes shift from you to Morpheus and back again, his raven head tilting in curiosity. Felix merely grins, the corners of his mouth twitching with barely concealed amusement. The raven's gaze is heavy on you, but you refuse to meet it.

"Oh, nothing much," you reply nonchalantly, trying to sound casual. "Just... discussing the possibility of a ball."

"A ball?" Matthew scoffs, flapping nearer and shaking out his feathers. "We were discussing your romantic escapades, girl!" You air out a screech of annoyance in the back of your throat and slapped a hand to your face. "Don't get sassy with me, you’re the one running around having sexcapades with one of the boss’ creations."

Matthew's laughter rings through the library, a series of sharp, raucous caws that echo off the high ceilings. He flutters his wings, sending a few loose feathers spiraling down to the floor.

"Oh, Kora!" he cackles, his beady eyes gleaming with mischief. "Your secret's out now!"

Morpheus, however, remains silent. A hint of amusement flickers in his incredible eyes, but he doesn't say a word. Instead, he watches you with an intensity that makes you squirm in place. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he speaks. "It seems you've been enjoying your time in the Dreaming," he remarks, his voice painfully smooth. "I am… pleased, to hear that."

Oh you could crawl in a hole and die hearing him tell you that!

You feel a flush creep up your neck and settle on your cheeks at his words. Matthew squawks again, hopping around on the table with glee. "Oh, she's been enjoying it alright!" he teases, earning a glare from you.

"If the rotisserie speaks again, I am not helping him preen his feathers any further!" You hiss at the cackling bird.

Matthew pauses mid-caw and cocks his head at you. "Hey!" he protests. "You promised not to call me that anymore!"

"I did no—" you try to exclaim, but a wave of weariness overwhelms you, causing your sight to blur and the library, along with everyone in it, to lose focus. You blink, only to discover you're in your bed, with the gentle glow of dawn illuminating your room. "Oh, give me a break," you groan, pressing your palms to your eyes. "I can't believe I just had that conversation in front of Dream of the Endless."

Back in the Dreaming, Matthew watches as you disappear, his beady eyes filled with a strange sadness. He flutters back down to the table, his black feathers ruffling up around him like a cloak.

"It gets quiet when she's gone," he mutters to himself. He picks at his feathers with his beak, straightening them out with meticulous care.

Fēlix glances over at Matthew from where he's seated at the table. He gives a slow nod of agreement. "It does," he says softly. "The palace isn't quite the same without her."

Lucienne adjusts her glasses and returns to her book without comment, but there's a tightness around her eyes that wasn't there before. Even Morpheus seems affected by your departure. His incredible eyes hold a far-off look as he gazes at the spot where you disappeared from.

For a long moment, silence fills the library — a silence that's not quite comfortable. It's a silence filled with thoughts unspoken and words unsaid. A silence that speaks volumes about how much they all miss you when you're gone.

Finally, Matthew breaks it with a soft sigh. "I miss her when she's not here," he admits quietly. The others don't respond right away, but there's no need for words. In their own ways, they all miss you too.

Date Published: 9/30/24

Last Edit: 9/30/24

Previous | Masterlist | Next

[sithsecrets]

A Matter of Expediency - Part XI

After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

—

Part 11

4.5k words

Mentions: pregnancy, swearing, mild sexual content, discussions of past relationships, menstruation

—

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask your husband, hesitantly settling in his lap as he starts up his TIE-fighter, flipping switches and pushing buttons.

“Oh yes,” Kylo assures you, absently pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I would never put your in danger.”

You’re still not convinced, unsure about two people galivanting through space in a one-man vessel, but Kylo’s arm is strong around your waist, his words comforting. And honestly, you’re too excited to really be bothered, thrumming with anticipation at the notion of zooming around the ship with your husband after hours.

Kylo is careful as he guides your ship out of the hangar, exiting the Supremacy with care. But as soon as the two of you are fully out in the inky expanse of space, he punches the accelerator, sending the little craft off at an exhilarating speed. You giggle as Kylo whips you around the ship, squealing when he makes sharp twists and turns with master precision. Hux had told you that your husband was an excellent pilot, but you had no idea what that really meant, accustomed to traveling on casual transport vessels. But Kylo is being anything but casual, telling you to hold on as he executes rolls and loops and other tricks that make your heart jump up in your throat.

Clutching onto your husband tightly, you’re absolutely delighted to realize that he’s enjoying himself too, grinning against the side of your face as he tells you to brace yourself before he does something complex. Stars, he even laughs, the sound of his joy coming from deep in his chest. He loves this, you realize, loves to fly. Your husband, a serious man, a man with little time to himself and so much to do, loves to go out and do the one thing that probably makes him feel truly and supremely free. And what’s better still, he’s decided to share this hobby of his with you.

By the time Kylo lands the TIE back in hangar two, you’re breathless and giddy, flushed with elation from all that’s just happened. As soon as Kylo pops the door open to give the both of you a bit more air, you’re on him in an instant, pressing kisses to his face as you laugh and laugh. He kisses you back, holding you and smiling into your mouth.

“Did you have fun?” Kylo asks, finally peeling you away from him.

“More fun than I’ve ever had in my life!” you exclaim, turning to fall back against his chest with a sigh. Wistfully, you add, “Oh, we should do that every night.”

Your husband settles his arms around your middle, nuzzling into your hair. “If the Empress commands it, then so it shall be.”

You smile at that but say nothing, content to stare out at the stars glittering in the distance before you. Kylo’s got his little craft positioned so that the two of you can gaze out the back of the hangar, safe inside the climate preservers and blastshields. The two of you hold one another for a long while, sitting in comfortable silence until Kylo finally speaks.

“Did you have any lovers before me?” he asks, settling you in his lap.

“I told you the night we wed that you were my first,” you reply, brows drawing together in confusion. You thought the whole thing had been rather unforgettable, but maybe that was because you were the one who wiped a bit of blood from between your legs when all was said and done.

“Well of course,” Kylo says quickly, sensing your disconcertment. “But did you have any other… beloveds? A boyfriend, or just someone who cared for you?”

You shake your head. “No. Mila was very good at turning others against me, and there are many beautiful girls my age in my husband’s court. Everyone passed over me, I think.”

Kylo kisses the top of your head upon hearing this, arms holding your tighter. He hesitates as he goes to speak though, almost as if he’s choosing his words carefully. “Even the women who attended to you?”

You balk at that, caught off-guard by the question. Memories flit through your mind like flashes of light, and for the first time in years, you think of Sabe’s hands, of the way her lips felt on your neck. The two of you had been so young then, barely Helda’s age when you first kissed each other in the dark. It was an innocent little tryst for the most part, two teenagers sneaking into each other’s beds to make out for a couple of hours while everyone else was asleep. There was only one time that something “serious” happened between the two of you, something that was a bit more than simple kissing. You had been so nervous when Sabe opened the front of your nightgown, self-conscious about your body back then. But her mouth was warm and soft and wet as she suckled at your breast, laving her tongue across your nipples in a way that made you sweat. She never touched you, never actually made you cum, but that was the first time you can remember really wanting to have sex with someone. No promises were made, you never courted one another, but you would be lying if you said there wasn’t a bit of puppy love at play all those years ago. Obviously, though, the little fling ended, fizzling out with the heat of the summer months. You thought Sabe had moved on forever and a day ago, but you’ve been rethinking the idea of that since her little post-engagement explosion.

“I see,” Kylo says softly, breaking you from your thoughts. Embarrassment washes over you then, staining your cheeks with crimson— he saw what you were thinking about.

“I don’t miss her,” you say at once, rushing to explain lest your husband mistake your reminiscing for longing or pining. “We were virtual children then, curious and bored and accessible to one other. I just don’t like how we ended our friendship is all. Sabe was very angry when I said I wanted to marry you, even after you offered me a chance to break things off. Myself and my other ladies ended up having a fight with her about it, and it was ugly. She was ugly.”

Kylo gives you a squeeze around the middle, comforting and companionable. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug, mildly upset and completely unaffected all at the same time. The little relationship you had with Sabe is all water under the bridge, old news from years ago that you look back on with fondness. But her cruel comments towards yourself and Lydia have not faded with time, and they still sour your image of her overall.

Tired of thinking about the matter, you shake your head to clear away of images of Sabe, of her mean eyes and her soft mouth. Reaching a hand back to toy with a lock of your husband’s hair, you decide it’s his turn in the hot seat.

“What about you?” you ask, inquiring about his past relationships. “I’m sure you had many beautiful lovers before me.”

Kylo plays it modest, simply saying, “I took women to my bed on occasion, yes, but they were never anyone special.”

You won’t let him get away that easily, though, pressing for details. “Who did you sleep with?”

Once again, your husband is casual, speaking the truth without boasting. “Women I met through diplomatic work, mostly. The parties and the dinners, you know how it is.”

In actuality, you don’t know how it is, but you nod companionably nonetheless. You’re an adult— you understand the basic premise of what he’s saying.

“You never had girlfriends, lovers you saw regularly?”

A shake of the head, and then, “None of them interested me. But I certainly didn’t string anyone along. I watch officers do that to people all the time, and it disgusts me to no end. My intentions were always clear from the outset.”

You admire and respect that sentiment, pleased to hear that your husband never went through a womanizing phase like so many men of station do. And not because he wasn’t desired, either, for you’re sure the women (and men) flung themselves at Kylo back in the day the same way they do now.

Your final question is perhaps your most invasive, but you think Kylo won’t be offended if you ask it. “What was your first time like?”

“When I was twenty-two, Supreme Leader Snoke sent me to negotiate a treaty on Valdera,” Kylo begins. “As you know, the President of Valdera and his Parliament like to partake in quite a bit of… merrymaking when they receive guests. They threw me a feast, and many important officials were there. Nearly all of them were drunk before we even began eating, but I didn’t feel comfortable becoming inebriated amongst strangers.”

You nod, pressing a kiss to your husband’s knuckles to show that you’re listening.

“Anyway, as I was having dinner and trying to ignore all of the foolishness going on around me, I felt as though I was being watched. When I looked down the table, I saw that it was a woman who was staring at me. She was seated in a dignitary’s lap, and I thought at first that she was his wife. But then I noticed that other women had come to the table as well, and I understood at once that she was some sort of concubine. Or a prostitute, maybe. In any case, she was very beautiful, and I could see everything she was picturing in her head as she looked me over.”

“She was fantasizing about you,” you say, and not without a bit of jealously. This woman is long gone, a relic of Kylo’s past, but you still can’t help yourself from being a bit miffed.

Your husband must sense the change in your mood, because he draws you closer to his chest, laughing lightly. “Yes, you possessive little thing, she was.”

Though you’re not ready to be done sulking just yet, you crack a smile nonetheless, unable to stay mad when Kylo’s teasing you and nuzzling his nose against your ear.

“Naturally,” Kylo continues, “I was a bit taken aback, but I didn’t say anything there at the table. A few hours later, I retired to my rooms for the night, and she came knocking not long after. I was unsure of myself, but I let her in anyway. She said she was there to spend the night with me, a gift from the President himself. I told her at once that she wasn’t obligated, that she didn’t have to stay if she wasn’t truly willing, but she was insistent, putting her hands all over me as she told me that she was tired of fucking old men. I warned her that I wouldn’t be much of a partner, given my inexperience, but she said that was no matter.

“She taught me much that night. All of the ways a man can fuck a woman, what to do with my hands and my mouth… She probably enjoyed the sex more than I did that first night, but I tried my best to please her.”

“I’m sure you did just fine,” you tell your husband, unable to fathom him being a bad fuck. “Did you see her again after that?”

“Yes, but only for the remainder of my stay.”

You pause, hesitant to hear the answer to this next question. “… Did you care for her? Or any of the others?”

Kylo says nothing for a moment, rearranging in his lap so that you two may look at one another a bit better. His face is set, expression serious as he cradles your cheek delicately in his palm. “I always treated my partners with respect, but none of them ever meant anything to me, not really.”

For just a moment there, in the chill of the hangar, you feel safe enough to lay bare one of the soft spots on your heart. “Do I mean something to you?” you whisper, too afraid to ask any louder than that.

“You are my wife,” Kylo replies, caressing your skin. You kiss your husband then, heart bursting at this quiet, almost unspoken admission of his love for you.

The two of you retire to bed not long after that, walking hand in hand back to your quarters. Kylo lets you hold him so tightly that night, falling asleep with his face pressed against your chest. You breathe in the scent of his hair as you nod off, warm and content.

---

Palgodu is just entering its winter months, the air nipping at your exposed face and ears as you walk up the steps of the royal castle. Snow hasn’t fallen yet, thankfully, but you step lightly anyway, not wanting to graze over an icy patch and go tumbling. Kylo is by your side, of course, shrouded in a black as per usual. He keeps you close, probably trying to warm you up himself even though you’re draped in furs and thick fabrics. The two of your take in the great castle before you together, noting the fine stonework and carpentry. It’s a sturdy building, built no doubt to keep warmth in and invaders out. Guards are lined up all along the front of the place, armed to the teeth. They may be there for you and Kylo’s benefit, a welcoming party of sorts, but you doubt it. If your planet just ended a civil war, you’d keep yourself covered on all sides as well.

King Eli awaits you and Kylo as soon as you enter the castle, grinning broadly as he welcomes the both of you to his home. The first thing you notice about the King is his size, for he is tall and wide, made exclusively of thick slabs of muscle. He would be imposing with his full beard and beastly hands, you think, if his demeanor were not so warm.

You and Kylo amble through a corridor just off the castle’s entrance hall, following in the King’s wake. You pass many tapestries along the way, precious pieces of handiwork that seem to depict the history of Palgodu. They turn your head, these works of art, and you find yourself studying them intently until you’re shown into a small receiving room at the end of the hall.

The first thing you feel when you lay eyes on the Queen Eleanor is envy. Before she even so much as speaks, you’re plagued with it, the jealousy you feel so white-hot in your veins that you’re afraid your skin will glow from the heat. She is heavy with child, the Queen, her stomach round and swollen underneath the skirt of her gown. To make matters worse, the bundle of blankets that she clutches to her chest is squirming, confirming that she already has a little one out here in the world as well. And then a young girl dashes out from the corner of the room, giggling as she evades being picked up by her nurse, and you feel as though you might actually burst into tears.

It’s idiotic, you know, to be jealous of a woman simply because she has children, but you can’t help the way your mind rages at the sight of Queen Eleanor and all the bounty of her womb. She has so much of what you want, so much of what you’re worried you’ll never be able to have. Still, it’s impossible to hate her for long— the Queen, like her husband, is just far too kind.

She welcomes you with open arms, beaming as she declares that she feels as if the both of you already know each other. And you sort of do, you suppose, given how much you’ve communicated these past few weeks. Like you, Queen Eleanor handles her regime’s charitable efforts, and you’ve spoken at length over comm about donations and food and a myriad of other subjects. She’s practical and a bit headstrong, passionate about protecting those who rely on her and her husband for help.

“I apologize for not meeting you right when you arrived,” Eleanor says to you. “The baby needed to eat, and Maudie is always so restless when she’s forced to stand still.”

Finally, you snap out of you sad little trance, remembering where you are and what you’re doing. “Oh please, don’t be sorry,” you reply, waving her off with a gesture and a sweet little laugh.

Though your feeling of envy pass quickly, the sudden burst of intense emotion does leave you feeling disoriented. The rest of the afternoon is mostly a blur, and you barely feel like you’re there as you and Kylo dress for dinner. You must put up a good front though, because neither Miriam nor Kylo says anything as about your demeanor as they interact with you.

Dinner consists of a large feast, and you’re grateful for the crowd around the table. There’s much talking and laughing, and you’re able to shrink back into the noise, more content with observing rather than participating tonight. You do feel a bit better though, fortified by your warm meal and a few sips of wine. And of course, Queen Eleanor continues to be a lovely friend, trying to rope you into conversations regarding the upcoming charity gala that the two of you have worked so hard on.

Just as you’re digging into your dessert, however, you feel it, that round, aching pain that most women know all too well. Your good mood evaporates immediately, overtaken by an empty sort of melancholy that’s even more painful than the cramping in your abdomen. Keenly aware of your audience (and the fact that you’re wearing black), you try desperately not to let your emotions show on your face. And stars does that take all you have, the task made even more arduous by the fact that your husband sits beside you. You don’t want him to perceive the shift in your mood, so you must guard your thoughts more closely than ever before.

Mercifully, your mask never slips, your defenses do not fail, and you’re able to excuse yourself from the table with ease. In a surprising turn of events, Kylo actually accepts King Eli’s invitation to play cards, and watching your husband walk away from you is perhaps the biggest relief of all in this moment.

The walk back to your chambers is relatively short, but your limbs are so heavy as you make the journey. Miriam is there waiting for you, but you have no heart to perform for her, stumbling into the ‘fresher with little more than a weary ‘hello’. When you check , your underwear are stained, just as you suspected. And though you already knew what happened the moment you felt your stomach cramp up at the table, this confirmation of your worst fear makes you breakdown completely.

Cleaning yourself up sloppily, you leave the ‘fresher with tears in your eyes, startled to find Miriam there in the doorway when you try to go back to the bedroom. She’s poised to get you whatever you may need, mouth already forming the words, “What can I do for you?” when the two of you lock eyes. You don’t know why you do it, but you collapse into Miriam’s arms right there, offering no explanation for your actions as you dissolve into sobs.

“What’s the matter?” you attendant asks quickly, supporting your weight as you sag against her. Miriam’s hands are on your back, in your hair, rubbing and petting and trying in vain to soothe you.

You draw back from Miriam’s chest, hiccupping pathetically. “I started my period,” you tell her, and the fact that you sound like a distraught twelve-year-old girl is not lost on you in the moment.

Miriam looks confused for a moment, asking, “Did you—?” But then her face dissolves into a look of sympathetic understanding, and she puts her arms around you again. “Oh. Oh, my lady.”

You beg for a bath, unable to do anything else as your attendant holds you close. Miriam does as you ask, letting the hot water run as she unlaces your gown and lets down your hair. Trying to be useful, you take off your jewelry on your own, but even this small task feels insurmountable in the midst of your breakdown.

The heat of your bathwater feels like a warm hug against your skin, but not even this serves to soothe your aching heart. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you curl in on yourself, choking on your own tears and sniffles. Miriam allows you to have a moment, sitting patiently by the bathtub as you settle yourself. Finally, she speaks.

“What’s the matter?” she asks softly, reaching out to stroke your hair again. You don’t brush her off, though your tone is less than charitable.

“I already told you,” you reply curtly, hugging your legs closer.

Miriam maintains her composure, speaking gently. “I know. But I have a feeling that this is about something more than a bit of blood in your underwear, Empress.”

Swallowing thickly, you contemplate whether or not you want to get into all of this right now. But Miriam is your only resource, really, the only older woman in your life that may be able to offer you a bit of advice.

“I just want to be pregnant,” you finally croak, voice raw from crying for so long. Miriam sighs at that, nodding solemnly.

“I know, my lady,” she says companionably, still carding her fingers through your hair. “Has the Supreme Leader said something to you? Gotten angry or expressed his dissatisfaction?”

“No,” you say quickly, moving to sit up now. Your head pounds, clogged with congestion from all your crying. “It’s… it’s the Queen.”

Miriam starts at that, eyes ablaze, her tone indignant. “Queen Eleanor said something to you?”

You can’t help but laugh then, touched by your attendant’s defense of you. “No,” you say, any joy you experienced just now dissipating. “She’s a lovely person, it’s just… It’s just her children. She has so many, and I—”

“And you have none,” Miriam cuts softly, finishing your sentence for you. You nod, chewing on your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“I just don’t understand it,” you declare, utterly bewildered. Miriam lathers up a rag, washing your body as she listens to you talk. “Kylo and I have sex nearly every night it feels like. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!”

“It’s not about what you’re doing,” Miriam soothes, rinsing you with her hands. “Sometimes these things just take time, that’s all.”

You throw a look Miriam’s way, eyebrows raised. “It only takes once.”

Miriam laughs a bit at that, nodding. “Yes,” she concedes, “technically once is enough. But that’s not the case for everyone.”

That makes you sigh, mostly because you know she’s right. Still, you can’t help but feel betrayed by your body, by your womb.

“Have I ever told you about the first woman I ever served?” Miriam asks, redirecting your attention away from your thoughts.

“No.”

“She was a senator’s wife,” your attendant begins, pouring shampoo into her hand now, “and she was desperate to get pregnant from the moment she got married. Like you, though, it didn’t happen for her right away, and she became rather upset. She began doing anything she could to conceive after a few months, drinking these disgusting teas, standing on her head after she and her husband had sex— just all sorts of nonsense. But after a year, she still had no child. Doctors assured her that she wasn’t barren, but of course she thought otherwise.

“After a lot of crying and wasting away in her bed, my mistress decided to just put the whole thing out of her mind. It destroyed her to do so, but she decided that perhaps she wasn’t supposed to be a mother. But do you know what happened after she quit fixating on the idea of getting pregnant?”

“She got pregnant,” you answer, already seeing where Miriam’s going with this story. She nods, confirming that you’re correct.

“That’s right. She went on to have another three children after she had that first baby, and they were all healthy and beautiful.” Miriam hooks her fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at her. “The same way yours will be. But you must relax, Empress. If you fester in this desire to bear a child, the stress will prevent you from getting the very thing you want so badly.”

You want to argue, to say that you aren’t working yourself up into a frenzy about having a baby, but that’s simply not the truth. You think of conceiving each and every time you and Kylo make love, you pray and yearn and hope as you as you wash him off your body. You even dream of it sometimes, giving birth, and not all of the things you see in your head are pleasant.

“Just enjoy being with your husband,” Miriam advises, almost as if she can read your mind. “If you relax and allow yourself to let go when the two of you make love, a baby will come quickly. I promise.”

You desperately want to believe you attendant, but your own anxiety forces you to remain unconvinced. Still, you’re grateful for the reassurance, figuring that everything will be brighter in the morning.

Kylo comes back from his card game not an hour after you get out of the tub, kissing you soundly as he grumbles about drunken aristocrat and a particularly poor hand that came his way during the event. You almost tell him about your little episode but ultimately refrain from doing so, figuring that it’s not worth the trouble. Still, your husband is intuitive as ever, asking you if everything’s all right as the two of you retire to bed.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” you tell him, more than happy to snuggle down under his arm.

Kylo doesn’t press the matter, though you’re not sure he believes you. But he holds you close anyway, shielding you from the chill of the room.

That night, you dream that you’re running all through the Supremacy, chasing after a small child that giggles and squeals as they continuously evade your grasp. It’s frustrating, for they always seem to be just ahead of you, just around the corner or already running down the next hall over.

Just as you get close enough to grab the back of the child’s shirt, you wake up.

[c-harli-e]

His Fall (Part 2 of 'His Silence') 《Charlastor AU》

His cheeks puffed out as he carefully considered the process in front of him.  

    Alastor grimaced when he saw himself in the mirror for the eighth time that day; it seemed that Heaven was adorned in mirrors. Instead of the prim red he was accustomed to wearing, his outfit had been changed out for a white suit. His nose crinkled; it just didn’t suit him. 

    His ashen skin hadn’t changed; most angels either had the crisp white skin and very few had ashen colored skin. He had been told at one point that it was due to him being redeemed. Not many angels had actually been redeemed during their demonhood and it caused very few to actually be in Heaven. He’d initially thought he’d gravitate toward the ones that had been redeemed, but they tended to be such a stickler for rules.

    Alastor had spent many days sitting idly by, wondering how he had gained this reputation. During his human years, he’d spent his entire short life slaving over the idea of death and murder. In Hell, he hadn’t been much better. His mind had slowly come to the conclusion that over the past several years, since the birth of his eldest, he had slowly been garnering ‘good’ deeds over the ‘bad’ ones. 

    What even was ‘good’ and what was ‘bad’? He was certain that murdering another demon couldn’t compare to cleaning a wound from one of his children, though he couldn’t be sure. It’s not like anyone could answer his questions.

    Anyway.

    He was seated beside a fountain near the house he had been given. It was more like an apartment; everything was built so that it would encourage partnership and accommodating. It sickened him.

    He couldn’t fathom why he was staying. Alastor had lost track of time by this point because there was no day / night cycle in Heaven. It was always daytime, shimmering sun and angels slept when they felt they needed to. It really messed with his inner need to have everything strictly organized; the one thing he had passed onto Margret.

    His grin twitched. Still consistently smiling was his trademark; there were occasions that he had been told his grin was creepy and he should knock it off.

    All the more reason to keep it on.

    Alastor’s eyelids fell as he stared into the water. The sun glittered across the surface and he reached out, placing a finger into the water and swirling his finger around. The little waves that emerged from his movements caused his grin to fade just the slightest bit. 

    A butterfly effect.

    One little thing he could do here could lead to him going home. 

    His eyes shifted from the water up to the clouds and sun that rest above him. His cheeks flushed at the warmth; so unlike the overbearing heat that surrounded each demon in Hell. Here, the heat was crisp and a soft breeze fluttered by. There was birdsong and the soft, hushed sound of angels speaking to each other.

    No screaming, no drug deals, no thievery.

    Alastor was finding this /boring/.

    “Al, sweetheart?”

    A voice interrupted his quickly souring thoughts. He turned slightly, pulling his finger from the water and shaking the droplets off. Behind him stood a sight he had still not gotten himself used to; his mind reeled even though he had seen her everyday for however long he had been here.

    His mother, in all her smiling glory, sat down on the fountain beside him. She wore a simple white dress, her cheeks rosy and pink. For a moment, his chest twanged; her cheeks were the same color as Margret’s.

    There were so many similarities between his mother and his children. He wasn’t sure he had ever even sat down and told her about them; he hadn’t spoken too much since he was sent to Heaven. Alastor found quickly that the things he wanted to speak about weren’t generally allowed and there wasn’t much he was able to do about that except keep his grin sealed.

    “You doing alright today?” Her voice was melodic; like most angel’s voices were. 

    He hummed and nodded, reaching over and taking her hand in his. She looked startled by the contact; he was never one to initiate anything. Alastor’s eyes dropped back to the water, where there were still some ripples moving softly across the surface.

    “You remind me of Margret.” His voice was soft, the grin faded to a close lipped one.

    “Margret?” Her head tilted to the side and he felt his insides fall just the slightest bit. She would never meet his children; had he even mentioned them at all?

    He hummed, clearing his throat. After so long of disuse, his filter was a little bit more rough around the edges, “My daughter.”

    Alastor’s mother’s eyes widened and she leaned forward toward him, gripping his hand just a little bit tighter, “A daughter?”

    He nodded, squeezing her hand and letting his other one reach down into the water, “My eldest. I have two daughters and a son, down in Hell.” Alastor moved his finger along the surface, just enough that he could feel his finger getting wet but not enough to cause too many ripples to surface, “My middle child is my daughter, Beatrice. The youngest is a boy, named Franklin.”

    “You’ve never spoken of them before.”

    “I suppose it’s because it hurt a little too much.” He allowed his finger to create ripples, “I left them down there.”

    “They can’t come up here?” Her voice was soft, hushed. He supposed it was for the best that their conversation remained among them; Angels were such chatty creatures.

    Alastor shook his head slowly, peering over at her. She looked starstruck; not only did she just gain a grandchild, she gained three, “They’re Hellborn! Stuck down there forever.” The filter over his voice crackled with static and he felt a rush of energy, “The poor dears can never be redeemed. No matter how sweet,” His hand tightened on hers, “No matter how much Margret does or works for, she will never reach this end.” There stirred a fire in his chest; something he hadn’t felt since he was in Hell, “Perhaps that’s for the best.”

    “What do you mean -”

    “Maggie’s a sweet little thing. You’d like her, mama. Always doing her best to be strong for everyone. She’s been part of the redeeming process since she was able to walk.” Alastor’s grin twisted; this was the first time he’d actually spoken about his children since being sent to this cursed place, “Bea’s a mischief maker. Always curious, however. A smart one, but only when she’s interested. Franklin is something else - something even I’m not sure. The opposite of an empath - sociopath, I believe is the term. He’s always smiling, though. He finds joy in the oddest of things.” Alastor shrugged a shoulder, “There’s another demon, Sir Pentious, I believe is his name. Franklin is obsessed with the little Egg demons that Pentious keeps around him.”

    His mother stayed quiet, listening to him as he spoke.

    “And Charlie.” His throat tightened, “The mother of my children, my mate.” Alastor chuckled dryly, “The poor doll. I do hope she’s okay. I suppose I’ll know soon enough.”

    Alastor dropped his mother’s hand and stood in a flourish of his white suit. He gazed around the area and felt a weight settle in his chest. She stood beside him and for a moment, she knew exactly what Alastor was planning.   

    “When?” She was quiet; a bare whisper above the heavenly breeze that drifted around them.

    “Now.” 

    It was a warning, if she’d ever heard one. Without a moment’s hesitation, his mother wrapped her arms around him and he reciprocated; squeezing her as if his life depended on it. And at that moment, it did.

    “I love you, mama.” His voice, deep with the Southern accent he’d acquired as a boy. Without static, without filter. Just the pure, small boy he had been once upon a time with his mother at his side.

    “I love you more, Alastor.” She pulled back from him and grabbed his cheeks, “You tell those babies of yours that their grandma loves them very much.”

    He grinned widely then, a spark igniting in his eye. They parted and she turned, leaving him beside the fountain.

    The fun was about to begin.

    There was a gathering a few streets over. The pavement itself glittered as he walked; indented with gold. His eyes shimmered against the light of the gold and the sun and he found himself feeling so much more energy than he had in weeks.   

    For the past several days, he had been avoiding eating. He knew that he was going to need a rather large appetite and as the days sped on and he didn’t consume the food that was at the food halls at the end of every street, the stronger he became. Alastor wondered idly if there was something tainting the food; something suppressing the inner demon of every angel in Heaven. 

    There was music playing from harps and flutes and if Alastor truly enjoyed being in Heaven as much as he’d thought, he might take a moment to listen. However, he was not interested in the music playing and opted to go straight for one of the musicians.

    The angels around weren’t strong ones. He hadn’t been placed in a housing complex with incredibly strong angels; for that he was grateful. The ones he was housed with had died primarily old and sick and had brought on some of that weakness with them into the afterlife. They wouldn’t be able to stop him.

    Alastor heard a rush through his ear drums the moment he grabbed onto the first angel. There were hesitant noises that quickly turned into screams of terror when he violently ripped and snapped the angels neck clean in half; removing the head from the body. A few angels began to speed away but with a body in his hands and a heart in his mouth, Alastor was stronger than he had been in a very long time.

    Blood caked his hands - still red, like humans and demons - as he continued to grab onto another angel that had tried to bolt. He furiously ripped through the chest cavity and ripped the angel’s heart out, feasting upon it. His head swirled and he felt high; this was the life he had left behind so long ago and he wasn’t sure why he had denied this part of him for so long.

    Something hidden in him snapped and he felt his hands start to morph; his head began to ache. His legs lengthened and he felt so utterly strong - nothing could stop him. He furiously snapped at the air and grabbed onto another angel; his now lengthened claws made it easier to shred through skin and bone and find the heart. 

    Blood coated his mouth and Alastor let out a static-filled growl, his antlers returning full force to the top of his head. In Heaven, his role as Deer Demon had been revoked and he had reverted much to his normal human self; save for his ashen skin. Brown hair quickly reverted to red, brown eyes to red. His teeth elongated and sharpened and power surged through his entire being. 

    There was a Demon ravaging the streets of Heaven.

    Wherever he went, corpses of dead angels and rivers of blood lie. There were tracks in the blood, left to look nothing like the feet of the once-angel. His maw was coated in drool and red and he was still starving. Another angel’s heart joined the rest in his stomach and the body was discarded - he wasn’t intending on getting full based on just a few. He wanted to capture the hearts of many.

    It didn’t take long for him to be cornered, like prey, by an assortment of the most upper level angels. He had torn through any guardians they had sent after him before; their blood was lighter and so much more refreshing. His eyes glared around wildly and he snapped at the air, blood still feeling his nostrils and driving his inner Wendigo mad.

    There were a few hushed whispers from the Guardians that surrounded him. He could hear each whisper, about how they had let him go unnoticed, how he couldn’t remain in Heaven any longer.

    One angel in particular strode through the commotion, his own feet dyed red in the color of his brethren’s blood. His arm raised and with a few words spoken in Latin, Alastor was falling.

    His grin returned as he fell.

    Soon.

[dastardlydandelion]

I am very belated sharing my response, but here goes:

Fave character:

Taissa and Shauna are still pretty much tied for first place for me…but I also love Natalie sm, hell she's tied too now. Lottie also really fascinated me in season two. i just. love them all in different ways. 🫀

is having Shauna as a fave really an unpopular opinion? i know many fans disliked the Sadecki family saga in s2, but…I mean, I too felt the Sadecki family saga ate up an excessive amount of screentime in s2 but still love Shauna.

Fave s1 scene: the feast of the first episode! oh man, that was everything. I went into the show on a whim while dog-sitting at my cousin’s house and had no clue what I was in for. The close ups of the teeth, the audio, the music, the scenes of feast juxtaposed with party scene, just. Whew, I was hooked and there was no going back.

that must be my very favorite, but there were so many good scenes. special shoutout to Shauna’s dream about birthing the chicken infant, that was hysterical. 😝

Fave scene of s2:

the adult Yellowjackets reuniting and dancing together around the bonfire. they have such a complex history and they did unspeakable hideous things in the name of survival but at the same time…they DID survive. And they understand each other in ways nobody could ever come close to, and their bond is beautiful in all the places it isn’t horrifying. 25 years later and they’re still a team; they bring out the best and worst in each other and I think the chemistry of the adult actresses is oft overlooked, but that scene really showcased it.

Another favorite scene from s2 is Shauna eating Jackie’s ear. we all know Shauna is going to eat that ear, and it’s so…gripping and human, I believe, that it’s not just one motivation for her to do so. She’s pregnant and starving, but she’s also grieving. she keeps the ear in her pocket all day. Shauna touches it so lightly, like the disgusting and precious thing that it is. she cannot look at herself when she pops Jackie’s into her mouth, she has to close her eyes. PERFECT usage of Cornflake Girl.

circling back here for a sec too— that is something I find so interesting about Shauna’s character. She can’t look at the horrible things she does. has to close her eyes before she eats Jackie’s ear. Rolls over next to Lottie when she’s done beating her to pulp, face pointed toward the ceiling so she’s no longer staring at Lottie’s bloodied face. Shauna makes Natalie turn around before she’s supposed to kill her and when Natalie forces her to look her in the eye, she falters. Shauna pulls her hat over her eyes as she carves open Javi, sweet Javi who’d had a crush and carved her a wolf.

I truly wonder at which point this Shauna turned into the adult Shauna of the present timeline, who unflinchingly stares right into a man’s face with a gun in her hand as she describes the sensation of peeling human skin. As a teenager Shauna couldn’t bear to witness herself but as an adult, she’s the only Yellowjacket aside from Misty who clearly longs for some of what that lifestyle was— the violence as well as the freedom.

What I want for season 3:

as far as resolution goes, i know the show was made with a five season plan! So it’s not going to go on forever, the end is definite.

Jeff Sadecki to die! I cannot with his waste of screentime anymore. he was fine, great even, in small doses, but…too much was too much last season.

i also think it would be neat to see more of what the girls’ lives were like pre-crash! I would also want to see more of the time period directly after they were rescued. I wonder if their rescuers saw the religious paraphernalia dedicated to the Wilderness entity? because the public fascination with the Yellowjackets 25 years later and some of the things that awful racist politician said to Taissa in the present timeline seem to indicate the public knows the girls did more than the kind of cannibalism people generally would find sympathetic given their circumstances. I also think it’d be neat to explore some of what that immediate adjustment was like for them.

I would like the flanderization of Misty’s character to end in the adult timeline. She was always kind of goofy but I genuinely feel like Walter functioned as a deus ex machina and that Misty’s character devolved into a caricature of her former self with his entry into the story. all that remained of her depth was buoyed by Christina Ricci’s acting prowess, only.

I want to see more of how the girls cope without the cabin and how the dynamics between them evolve now that they’ve officially begun hunting each other and worshipping the Wilderness Entity.

I also want to see more of the adult timeline focused on Taissa, Van, and Lottie. I feel like Tai especially only got crumbs in the adult timeline and we didn’t even know Van did survive to adulthood until s2.

thanks for sharing your thoughts, bud! sorry i was so late to offer my own.

greetings, friend! i hope you are well! feel free to ignore this if it's a bother, but with yellowjackets s3 finally in production, i thought i may buzz a little in your inbox! 🐝whoo is your fave character? fave scene in s1? fave scene in s2? what do you want for s3? on the other hand, is there something you do not want in s3??

Hi! Spoilers coming! I want to know yours too, btw

Fave character:

Misty. Damn, she is soooooo fun to watch both as a teen and as an adult. Plus there isn't a lot of women socyopaths (or whatever she is) on screen.

Followed closely by Natalie (she just rocks) and unpopular opinion, Shauna.

Fave scene of season 1:

Jackie's feast, of course. It was so well filmed, so visceral, and on top of that the Roman setting...

Another minor faves were the first scene (so misterious) and the plane crashes -the Yellowjackets and Laura Lee's (I'm a sucker for plan crashes, don't sue me).

Fave scene of season 2:

The birth. It makes you think it will suck and the baby will die slowly on screen but oooops, Shauna wakes up and the reality hit you like a train.

The girls choosing their sacrifice, Misty accidentally killing her friend, the girls chasing Javi and the cabin burning were also brutal.

What I want for season 3:

Some kind of resolution for everything, I can't think the show can continue for much longer, to be honest.

-Discover the identity of Pit Girl.

-The meaning of the pictures carved on trees.

-How they are going to survive the cabin burnt.

-When they are going to chase and eat Scott.

-More Natalie (teen and adult), please. I want her having a proper farewell.

-More about the Antler Queen.

-Specially, more insight into the girl's life before the crash, that part was a bit lacking but the stakes for all of them were interesting on their own to have their own episode like Natalie's more or less did (from where Shauna's obsession with perfection comes from, if Jackie had something hidden on her life, Lottie's parental abandonment and mental sickness, Misty's parents dealing with her or Misty dealing with bullying, Van's white trash life and how it was for Taissa being a biracial lesbian child in the 80s/90s)... Maybe even something from Scott, Travis & Javi

[terrorhqs]

hello to each and every one of you absolute wonders !! first of all, we would like to apologize for the wait - when we saw 8 apps hitting the inbox in the last few hours, we knew we would have some Serious Work on our hands. it took us longer than we expected to go through all of them, mainly because every single one was absolutely incredible, and this entailed several very, very tough decisions. we also wanted to be as accommodating as possible for certain applicants who inspired us to make a few changes along the way - with their backstories, their line of thinking, their amazing character, which we will note below. this truly was a round of acceptances where we thought we might create a whole new batch of skeletons just to showcase each app. thank you to everyone who applied. and for everyone who got accepted, please make sure to send in your accounts in 24h !!

HENRY for THE COMMANDER (james norton)

henry, your writing was an absolute treat, but it was truly your future plot ideas we were feasting on! we absolutely loved how tightly tied to fitzwilliam’s psyche they were, how terribly heart wrenching they were - particularly the first one - we have to admit it made us weepy and excited in equal measure.

GEN for THE DEVOTED, captain’s steward (richard deiss)

gen, your writing flourishes and entrances and beguiles, just as rowan does, and the two of you do it so effortlessly. your in-character response was a brilliant show of creativity and development in showing how rowan reacts to the same question asked by different people, and we knew he would be a phenomenon onboard the promethean. your app was showstopping, and we couldn't wait to welcome you aboard.

CAIT for THE SOCIALITE (tuppence middleton)

the whole personality of stella was a whirlwind in motion !! we were so eager to read more about them from the very first seconds. and the prose ! how beautiful ! (Worship the altar of this consuming, rebellious  heart and wear it in red, bathe in this baptismal font of sordid gossip, glory, erupting nights of heated duels between wit and ego) - this is the epitome of what we wanted for them, and even more than we could’ve hoped !

KAT for THE DOCTOR (dev patel)

kat, please let us dwell with jonathan in his sunshine and pure spirit forever?? we are all rosa diaz on this blessed day and he is a golden retriever puppy we would all kill for. we love his love for nature’s wonders and for people alike, but we also adore the depth and understanding you brought to his future plots. we welcome you and jonathan to the crew with such, such open arms !

ALICE for THE DOE-HEARTED (su yihan)

alice, your writing was a siren song that lulled us into the depth of sybil's story - in a heartbeat, we would drown in it all over again. you kept the essence of the doe-hearted but took it so much further in making her a girl haunted, the buildup of sybil and her story a grimm fairytale to be told again and again. "You were born by the water, sweet thing. Your story is the sea with but an island in the middle of it." you have truly woven a complexity to the doe-hearted that we never expected - we'll all be holding our breaths to see how our dear fairytale fares on open waters !!

BEAU for THE INTREPID (tobias menzies)

oh, beau. the entire process of your application was as beautiful and chaotic as a natural phenomenon - it felt like we need albert in this rp, and that weight had the certainty of force? we knew we have to give him the leeway for development he deserved. i cannot properly convey how much we loved the schematics of his past, and how it contrasted with his ideals for the future. he is a map of contrasts and we are so eager to see him on the dash !

NAYAB for THE ENIGMA (katrina kaif)

nayab, the way you illustrated jaya's rich history was absolutely delectable - we were positively screaming over the intricate detail you put into the creation of such a nuanced, interesting, and fiery character. the research and thought you put into jaya absolutely wowed us, and it was impossible not to love (and admittedly, cower a little before) her. "what if this expedition makes you encounter what even you - with your cautious gait, and sharp, dark-eyed gaze - never saw coming?" what a cannonball she is, and what an impact she had on us !

JINHEE for THE HARUSPEX (avan jogia)

jinhee, ashwin is an absolute delight and so was reading your application! as rhi screamed, ‘FUCK I BELIEVE IN HOPE AGAIN??’ we loved the icarus imagery and were not prepared to be completely undone by this line: (and weren’t you told never to touch your idols? warned that the gilding will stick to your fingers?). the way you took his father’s ancestry and tied into his present feelings for britain was absolutely chef’s kiss. we were enamored from start to finish - well done.

KYLIE for THE IDOL (garret hedlund)

oh, what a STUNNING app !! it is so difficult to balance guilt and righteousness, and we feel like you did that thoroughly for jack. your level of close-reading through our skeleton was genuinely flattering, but the way you took it to new depths (and heights) was humbling. we are so, so eager to see how the tide will turn for jack, and all the possible ways you can give him a redemption arc - or the lack of one.

N for THE LOVER (zoe kravitz)

N, let me prostrate myself at eleonore’s feet. your application was so rich and beautifully written, truly embodying the lover’s feline lethality that you want to pet anyway despite knowing she might very well be your downfall. “feed me was all she had ever asked in exchange for burning day and night for him.” hello yes, we volunteer.

TILDA for THE NOBLE (madeline madden)

it was very hard choice for the noble, but tilda, i adore helene’s family’s backstory, how it seemed to rot from the core until collapse. you truly grasped the character and her yearning for abandon, her desperation, and her voice/dialogue in your in-character response was utterly delightful! we can’t wait to see her voyage from sea-legged noble lady to tide commanding shanty.

ADRIAN for THE PURSER (matthew goode)

if only you could see how we reacted when we received this app ! and trust me, the hype only increased when we got to reading it. did we channel that excitement through God-honest tears? uh, yes. we did. ( dead can’t receive letters but Edward still writes them anyway. ) we clutched edward to our chest time and time again through that - and the SPLENDID letter added at the end, what a treat to us ! we are so thankful just at the privilege of reading this. we’re even more thankful that we’ll see him on the dash.

EMI for THE ROMANTIC, wardroom steward (yang yang)

emi, we've concluded with all of your beautiful plot points that you and june do indeed, have the range - you gave us such a variety of wonderful exploration of june's personality, psyche, hopes, and dreams all wrapped up in the beautiful poetry that fit june's character like a second skin.  "the light upon the ice. a brilliant, sightless mirror. it comes not from the sun but from our prometheus, barrelling out from dark waters with an inexplicable gift: fire." you've captured him so beautifully and we cannot wait to see how he will be the promethean's sun to the open seas !

CLAUDIA for THE SCION (rome flynn)

you really manged to send a :59 app and still steal the show ! how very Scion-y of you. in all seriousness, i adored augustus background so MUCH - his maternal connection, the wishy-washy tides of his family’s structure, the conflict inherent in his very development !! so so good. you took a carefree skeleton and you gave it a million possible depths. we, as both admins and players, are so grateful for it.

AERIN for THE SHADOW (sebastian stan)

aerin, it is not an exaggeration that your app had us literally with our jaws open the entire time ? you truly took us turn after turn into elijah's story and hours later, we're still breathless and trying to recover from it. you captured the shadow's overcast history the way a shadow slowly looms over you - we were absolutely consumed by the end of it, and we're all here absolutely begging for more. we can't wait to have enoch onboard this expedition !

CASS for THE GODKILLER (kofi siriboe)

this is the sort of role dreams are made of. i think i speak for everyone when i say we never could have envisioned a skeleton as terrific, terrifying, tectonic as abel. stop me with the alliterations - lapsing into poetry is genuinely the only thing left to do when the support of prose fails you? you brought us to the end of prose. their role just jumped out for us and we knew it called for an entire skeleton. what an app !

ANNIE for THE STOWAWAY (riana hardesty)

i have to confess, we had such high expectations for the stowaway, because we knew their motivation would be one of the toughest to crack - and annie, you exceeded literally even the most optimistic of them ! (You’re no musician, but playing the melody of someone else, someone who can weasel their way in and out of a bad spot - that’s one song you know how to sing well enough.) that is such a fantastic rendition of their personality, and written so, so beautifully !

LEO for THE VETERAN (toby stephens)

i think this app was the one which sent me in a banshee-screech session that was genuinely disturbing to everyone on a 100 miles radius. the way you phrased the headcanons at the end had me in stitches - which was a welcome change for how DEEPLY i was feeling wells’ backstory. from sobbing to laughter just like that, huh. you have an unprecedented power, leo, and we love to see it !

[kimshavacado]

Dead Heat Ch. 1

Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader

Genre: Yet another Arranged Marriage/Mafia AU

Summary: Three extremely powerful families with enough power to bring down entire governments, all with vastly different views on how things should be run. The Min family thinks everything can be solved with money, the Jeon family think everything can be solved with violence, and the Kim family relies more on thought which leads to a lack of action. When Kim Y/N loses her father, she only has one way to save herself and her family. But it involves having to give herself over to a stranger. How the hell is she not supposed to punch him in his stupid rich face?

Dead Heat Masterlist

A/N: Hi there lovelies. This is the first time I’ve ever written anything of my own, I usually just edit friends work, it’s something I’ve been doing for years. I came up with this weird plot and thought I’d take a shot at it. I’ve also always wanted to write Y/N as a badass. This is just another stereotypical fic, and I’m not really sure how long this will be, but I’m kinda looking forward to it. :D

Chapter 1: The Fire In Her Eyes

Never once have you felt the way that you feel right now. Even when you think about all the shit you’ve been put through the past 24 years of your life, nothing comes close to the scale of the fire coursing through your vanes in this moment. It’s not just anger, it’s bigger and more complex. Sure, you’re angry. At your father, at yourself, and at the asshole standing in front of you. But there’s something that adds a hollowness to the melting pot of emotions inside of you. Loneliness. Helplessness. That man’s stupid face as it looks at you certainly doesn’t help. He has this confused expression that’s just dying to be wiped off of his face by a sharp cut of your hand. It seems comical how dull someone could be. You feel everything piling up to the point where you’re about to explode. But instead of keeping face as usual you storm toward the man with fire in your eyes.

*2 weeks earlier*

“Y/N, it’s time to go.” Your best friend of over 20 years says down to you. Instead of responding, you get up off the couch that you’ve been sitting on for the past 2 hours and silently follow him as he leads you both down the building’s main staircase. As you walk through the crowd of people dressed in black he glances back at you a couple of times, most likely trying to analyze your vacant expression.

“The fact that you haven’t even said a word today makes it seem like you’re actually sad he’s gone.”

At hearing this you stop walking. You finally look your friend in the eyes and notice the worried expression on his face. Your hard stare causes his expression to fall. He looks away from you and towards the floor as you continue walking past him. When you reach the base of the stairs, you barely notice the faces of the well-dressed people you pass as you head directly out the door. You’d rather die than receive looks of pity from people you barely know.

Once outside you find solace in the dark and quiet car that’s been waiting for you. You’re alone for less than a minute before Jimin finally joins you inside. When the car starts moving, he doesn’t say anything else to you because he knows you more than anyone. He knows exactly what situation you’re in right now. You’re not even remotely sad about the death of your father. Not with all the shit he put you through growing up.

On one hand you feel like a weight has been lifted off you because he’s gone. No one is left to tell you what your purpose in life is. On the other hand, a new weight has been placed on your shoulders because of what’s about to happen to your family. Something your father had never anticipated happening was dying and leaving you in charge. Yet his untimely death had spoiled his plans. You, being unmarried and an only child, were all that were left of the Kim’s.

As the car finally pulled up to the decently sized mansion you and Jimin still sat in silence. You didn’t notice when Jimin turned his head towards you as you sat there contemplating the events over the last few days. You heard him let out a sigh and let ti hang in the air before you finally faced him and broke the silence.

“I’m sorry. Thanks for today.” You say as you finally look away, not feeling the need to say anything else.

That was something that was great about your relationship, words weren’t always needed. He knew you needed time to sort your thoughts out before a heartfelt discussion on what the hell you were going to do about your situation. You might have seen a slight reassuring smile on his lips after your thanks had you not already been dragging yourself out of the car leaving him inside as you make your way up the steps of your home.

Before you know it you are laying on your bed in your pajamas staring at the ceiling. You barely remember walking up your large staircase or even changing out of your black funeral dress. The house is quiet and empty which makes every moment stretch on forever but simultaneously flash by in the blink of an eye. Your mind is in this surreal state of limbo, but it gives you the peace to go over your options.

Your family is likely to support your father’s opinions on you taking over. They’re very traditional and have their eyes set on a strong male head of the family. There are some who would support your claim, but many don’t know of your abilities to lead since you were so inhibited by your father. Theoretically, someone else in the family could take over, most likely Jin. He’s never expressed interest in leading the entire family but he’s highly respected here. But then what happens to you? You can’t just leave and start a new life, and know you’d never be able to.

If this is the case and someone else takes over, you’ll probably be given away to someone. Jin is married already so that ruins your chances of coming even close to staying as you are in the family. Not that you want to marry him anyway, sure he’s got a pretty face, but he thinks a lot like your father, which is something you aren’t very fond of. Still, your life will never be the same. You just hope that that’ll be a good thing. So long as you get out of it alive.

That night you dream of your childhood. There are a few moments from when you were younger that let you forget the truth about your lifeand future and you are lucky enough to recall them tonight, when you need it most. Tonight you recall the night that you and Jimin became friends.

It was during some annual family get together. It wasn’t a fancy ordeal, just a time for everyone to be together. All the parents had left the children to mingle in a separate area of the house. Jimin had always seen you around at these things. When you were around all the other kids he was intimidated by you.

You were loud and friendly while he was quiet and shy. This is why little Jimin found it strange when he didn’t see you in the center of the room feasting on the attention of the other kids. After wandering, he instead found you in a room down the hall sitting outside of an open window looking up at the sky. It was the first time in days it had been clear enough to see the stars.

Jimin climbed outside to join you and sat next to you silently. The two of you star gaze for quite a while without saying anything.

“What do you think it’s like to be a star?” You ask the young boy next to you. 

“I… don’t know.” He timidly answers.

“I think it’d be wonderful. You can look down and see everything that’s going on everywhere in the world, and you get to see a ton of other stars too!” You excitedly answer your own question.

“I heard that when people die, they turn into stars.” Jimin adds.

“Really!? So one day I’ll get to be a real life star!?” Jimin sees you bursting with excitement and is only able to give you the biggest eye smile you’ve ever seen as he nods in confirmation.

You two spend the rest of the night alternating between talking about what you would do as stars and gazing in silence. It was really the first time when you felt you could be yourself around someone else. Maybe it was because of how innocent he seemed. You wish you could relive moments like that every night, when times were simpler. But with morning comes the reminder of the harsh reality that you are going to have to face.

The next day is a meeting with some high-ranking men in the Kim family. They too have been wondering what the hell was going to happen with your father gone. It’s no surprise to you how quickly it was decided that Jin, one of your father’s right-hand men would take over at least temporarily. At this point you shut your brain down, just wanting to be anywhere but here, especially when they move on to politics of the change and relationships with the other families.

After over an hour of the board’s relentless debating, you let your mind start to wander away from all the issues in your life. You’re about five seconds from dozing off when you catch the end of a certain sentence.

“…best interest to ally families.” Your eyes immediately shoot toward the direction of the speaker knowing exactly where this is going. Jin, one of your father’s righthand men, notices your sudden attention on him.

 “Since the death of his father last year, Min Yoongi has become the richest man in the country. Your father and his were in good standing with each other before their deaths. Marriage between our families was something that was discussed but never acted upon because of unfortunate timing. I’ve talked with Min representatives and it’s something that they’d still be interested in.”

 “What would that do for us?” I ask. “So what, I go marry him and become a Min?” 

“Like we were saying before, Y/N, we’re not in the best financial position.” Jin responds, realizing you weren’t listening to everything before.

“Why do you think that is?” You challenge.

“Y/N-“

“We pride ourselves in what? How smart we think we are? How we think things out and come up with long term plans that we never carry out?” You interrupt. Somehow you keep face and continue your rant towards the board.

“We’re a sorry excuse for a family, we’ve got no power and can easily be cut down by everyone else because my father, who you seem to hold in such high regard, was a misogynistic pig who cared more about how many different brands of scotch he could collect that the longevity of the family-”

 “Y/N!” Jin stops you and stands up, staring you down. So you do the same. You stand and place your palm of the table. You direct your serious expression towards the faces of the surprised members of the board until you land back on Jin.

You look pissed but composed, an ability you got from your father which made it look like you could set fire to the entire world and still have the same look in your eyes. It looks like Jin is about to say something, but you don’t give him the privilege.

 “You know I’d do better.” And you calmly turn and walk out.

 You’ve lost, but you’ve also won. Things were decided in the meeting that wouldn’t be easy to change, but you did gain something. The words you said about the family and your father would’ve gotten anyone else killed, but instead it showed them all who you were. Not many people had seen the fire in you come out when your father was alive. Women were always supposed to behave and save face, but that never changed the fact that you are your father’s only child.

Even though he wasn’t a good man, he was a frightening one. He was intelligent and everyone knew that he was capable of horrible things. You on the other hand, knew he didn’t care about horrible things or what his job was as the head of the family. There was a time where he might have been an awesome scary boss, but you surely hadn’t seen it.

He was more content on just existing and having the power, which might have worked had there not been other families and had we not been involved with organized crime. And now he’s dead for it. You, however, know what it takes to be the biggest player in the game and hope you get to be as cunning as he was because you know you wouldn’t waste it. But for now, you have to worry about crap like marriage instead.

Min Yoongi, the richest bachelor in the country. How lucky are you? You bet he’s just like his father.

Min Yoongi sits across the table from you with an unreadable expression on his face. It’s almost like he doesn’t care that any of this is happening. Like it’s some minor annoyance and he’d rather be somewhere else.

The meeting is fast and formal and you two don’t say a word to each other. Papers and pens are exchanged as well as conversation between family representatives.

Eventually you catch his eyes and you two remain unmoved in a stare down. The intenseness of your expression causes Yoongi to furrow his brows. It’s an expression of curiosity, afterall, he’s never met you why are you suddenly looking at him like you’re about to jump across the table and stab him with one of the pens?

The men around you interrupt your little exchange by shaking hands and collecting papers. You watch as they act like they just bought a car or something. Not just put two incompatible people together.

By the time you turn away from the final handshakes, you see Yoongi is gone. What a charmer. At least that means I may not see him often. Your men collect you and take you home, which will soon not be your home. 

That night you’re out on your balcony with Jimin watching the sky as you talk about the strange meeting.

“Was he cute at least?” Jimin asks you.

“I can’t remember, I was too focused on the dumb look on his face. How could someone not care what the hell someone else does with their life? It was like I was some minor disruption in his day.” Jimin looks at you expectantly basically ignoring what you said.

“He’s not fat.” You concede. “Not horrible looking, but he is short. You’d probably like him.”

“I’m gonna assume you say that because he’s attractive and not because you think I’m short.” He responds. You snort at this as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“What am I going to do?” You ask yourself after a moment.

“Use the situation to your advantage and take what’s yours. It’s what you do best.” Jimin tells you, somehow knowing an answer that would work for you. You knew you picked a good best friend. The two of you sat under the sky and star gazed that night for what would be the last time.

A/N: I promise it’ll get a little less cliché in future parts. The first scene I wrote which made me want to write this in the first place is coming soon along with some Yoongi. I had to rewrite the entire plot of the first chapter so I hope there are no holes so far. I hope this turns out well. Thanks lovelies.

Next Chapter

[pennys-th0ughts]

Loser... 🥀

A long sigh came out of my mouth like some kind of relieving sensation that had been trapped deep inside my chest for so long, but I didn’t feel any relief, only frustration. I picked up the three balls lying on the floor, gathered the rest of my stuff inside my duffel bag and got out of the big tent hearing the mocking laughter at my back. “You will never be good enough as a clown” someone said, “¡your parents must be ashamed of you!”, “¡Go back to the stinky hole you came out of!” and the insults kept on coming until I finally got out.

I looked around searching for a quiet place to put myself together. Once I spotted it I headed there and sat down on the edge of an empty wagon belonging to the circus I just finished performing one of my complex acts just to be rejected, as had happened in the previous one. It was my fifth try and I still had no luck finding a circus that wanted to hire me. The owners kept telling me that I was too old to be a clown and they wouldn’t take the risk of hiring someone of my age or they would just say I lacked experience. So many lame excuses…

The day had been long and tiring and the heat was overwhelming. The summer season was at its highest peak and some days the temperatures were barely tolerable. The key to survive such weary time of the year was to remain away from the sun and stay hydrated, and one of those things was becoming the hardest to get.

A couple or guards began to look at me in a uncomfortable way so I left that place and ended up catching my breath sitting under a tree. I was enjoying its cool shadows when a thin hand landed on my left shoulder. I sighed and didn’t dare to find out which body that small and delicate hand belonged to but since it seemed not to belong to one of the guards, I finally raised my eyes trying to avoid the rays of the sun. The other hand offered me some fresh water and also an apple.

Moved by such kind gesture I saw myself forced to stand up and thank to whoever was being benevolent enough to offer me such things, but both hands didn’t allow me to, instead, this mysterious person knelt by my side.

– You must be tired – the smooth and calm voice said-. Please, don’t bother yourself in standing up. ¿May I?

The young lady pointed an empty space next to me, I nodded and moved a bit to make some more space so she could take a sit and shelter herself from the sun. We spent some minutes in silence whilst I took some sips of the fresh liquid and later bit the sweet fruit. In the meantime, I could sense her staring at me as if was some kind of peculiar creature, like the most the circus would hid behind its red curtains. I devoured the apple in a couple of bites and then I realized how embarrassing that must have looked like. She just chuckled.

– I must apologize – I used the back of my sleeve to clean up my chin-. I was starving, to be honest…

She raised both hands to let me know it was okay and laughed amused. The innocence of her waysput a smile on my face instantly. Her smile was as bright and warm as the sun and her manners were as fine as the ones of a princess. We stayed under the shadows talking and laughing about so many mundane things until the sunset gave its lasts breaths and the purple blueish tones began to paint the night sky. The laughter she ripped off from my lips was so plenty that my eyes watered many times washing part of my make-up.

The little lightbulbs surrounding the big tent began to light one by one bringing some light to the vast territory the circus occupied. The people belonging to it started to walk to their tents to get some rest from another long hot day. I realized that that painful moment to say goodbye had come and I would need to leave before the owner of the circus could tell I was spending my time with his daughter. The less I wanted was to get her into trouble so I stood up and got ready to leave but she grabbed my hand and almost dragged me towards her tent in some kind of stealth mode. We successfully avoided a couple of guards, a handful of jugglers and some lion tamers who were taking those exotic animals back to their cages. The excitement of hiding from the circus owner in his daughter tent was the most thrilling experience I had in many years since the last one when I was around ten years old which consisted in the fruit stealing from the neighbor’s tree.

That night my heart was beating exactly in the same erratic and fast way it did that day but there was something different now and the company made it a lot more interesting.

– You have never told me your name… – I point that out in a very curious tone of voice.

– ¡Oh, you are right! – She said looking notoriously embarrassed-. My name is Elizabeth but everyone here calls me Liz.

– Delighted to meet you, Liz – I kissed her knuckles and introduced myself as well-. I'm Robert Gray but you can call me Bob.

The mystery was solved and I was even more interested about discover more about this girl so I began to cherish every minute of our conversations. I took a last peek outside the tent to make sure nobody had seen us and once I felt reassured I turned around with a confident smile on my face. Liz poured some water in a metallic bowl and wet a piece of cloth.

– Have a sit – she invited me-. I will help you remove the make-up.

– That’s really not necessary, Liz… – I tried to avoid her selflessness help but it was in vain.

– Don’t be so modest, Bob – she insisted-. Besides, if you keep wearing it, it might spoil your skin.

I sat on the little bench and she placed the bowl on a table almost of the same size next to me, and carefully, she began removing the paint of my face. When she finally finished she stared at me for some long minutes as if she was admiring the very uncommon features of my face. She brushed my ginger hair backwards and fixed her blue eyes with mine. Then a painful memory came to my mind when the soft tip of her index finger followed the irregular line of one of my scars. Instinctively my hand grabbed her wrist by impulse but without any intentions to hurt her. When I realized what I just did it was a bit too late.

– I'm afraid to ask but – she hesitated- ¿how you did get these?

I lowered my eyes until I had the dusty floor in front of me; I took a deep breath and told Liz the story about those peculiar scars. In the meantime people outside their tents were getting ready for the typical midnight feast in which many of them would eat and drink until early hours of the morning and probably sleep big part of the day to get rid of the hangover. Those would be precious hours to share with Liz and I was looking forward to prolong our talk. She made me feel like I was at home and for some reason the need of being with her was becoming imperative. Liz didn’t care about my aspect without the make-up and her interest in me since the beginning was touching. She gently caressed my forehead and the scar that made its way over my eyebrow and ended up in my cheek. She made me close my eyes and, out of the blue, she sat down on my lap. A little smirk curved my lips whilst Liz kept stroking my hair backwards making the experience even more intense with the perfume her skin was letting go. The scent was delicate and yet it was all over the place as if the aroma was coming from a bucket of just trimmed flowers. Then I felt them. At first the feeling was suffocating but warm, soft and finally passionate. Elizabeth had the tastier lips I could have ever kissed and her possessive way of seducing me was delicious.

– Liz – I made my best to talk her out of it, that what she was trying to get wouldn’t probably end well- if your father catches us red handed he will definitely throw me inside the lion’scage.

– He won’t – she shut me up placing her finger on my lips-. He would have gotten drunk enough by the time we have left.

I blinked several times, uncredulous but mostly dumbfounded. Leaving the circus with the owner’s daughter was definitely a very bad idea that would mean a certain death for me and a severe punishment for her. I shook my head in denial; I had to do something about it and fast.

– I will be forever doomed to steal you from your father’s hands and I will happily live with it but ¿can we reconsider the possibility that your father will haunt us just to make our lives miserable?

Liz remained some minutes in silence probably having second thoughts about my words. I knew what she wanted from the moment she suggested to leave the circus, but leaving in that way will only cost us more than we could bear, so we carefully thought and planned our escaping way starting that very night. We still had a few hours ahead so we would take our time to do whatever we wanted to do.

Her hands were soft as cotton as all the skin wrapping her little but harmonious body whilst the curves of her breasts and waist were almost perfectly shaped like the silhouette of a glass cup. She was out of her usual vestments and the light of the fire was bathing her smooth skin in red and gold tones. As the flames were dancing making the whole room dance at their compass, Liz started her own choreography taking off in each turn a piece of clothing. The lines of her back seemed to resemble the dunes of a vast dessert whilst her long black hair, shinny and silky, was like the oriental night sky. She took possession of my mouth again but this time I could feel she was more than certain of she was doing so I let her go over me without any restrictions. It had been long time since the last time I was with a woman and Liz was beyond attractive to deny her charms.

The night went by wonderfully like some kind of mixture between a romantic novel and an adventure tale. After making love for almost two wild hours we decided to soothe our appetite, for food this time, so we ate richly and drink a delicious sweet wine, as for dessert we tasted some fresh fruits and a strange pudding with a filling I have never ate before. Once our bodies were satisfied in many ways, we fall asleep. Liz wrapped her thin arm around my chest and hid her face in the hollow of my neck. To feel the peacefulness of her breathing tickling my skin was all I needed to dive into an intoxicating sleep.

Rooster’s badly tuned song woke me up from a very pleasant dream just in time to avoid prying eyes. I gently shook Liz’s shoulder to wake her up. She got dressed and helped me to put my make-up back only this time she painted my face in a very different but interesting way which I liked more. She made the lines that crossed my eyes vertically longer and connected them with the corners of my lips, so the new design ended up looking like a big “U” shaped smile starting in my forehead and finishing in my mouth. I borrowed some clothes from her wardrobe and put them on, maybe that would help me avoid the guards on my way out of her chambers.

Another day went by and Liz and I were keeping our love adventure out of the circus thus behind the curtains. I have never felt so excited before and the feeling itself was captivating. I was looking forward to see her every time the circus closed its doors and everyone went to sleep just to discover our naked bodies once more, swim in the lake or eat delicious evening meals at the candlelight. Tonight we had planned to leave and spend some hours at the quarries and enjoy the night and its sparkling stars.

– The moon light is so bright tonight – Liz pointed that out looking up the sky as if she was a little girl looking at some marvelous treasure.

I took her hand and guided her towards the shore of the lake. The temperature of the water was nice and it was an unspoken invitation to get into it. We looked at each other in complicity and ready to throw each other to the lake but we didn’t, we just took our shoes off and got our feet into it to avoid ending in a water fight. The songs of the crickets, the hoot of the owls and the wind whispering all around us was making of that brief moment something worthy to live for.

– Moon looks like a tiny firefly compared to you…

Careless words got out of my mouth like a bunch of wild horses and by the time I realized what I just said, it was too late. I shut my eyes tightly feeling my cheeks going beetroot in no time, but the night was allowing me to stay low key regarding my feelings. Liz accidentally put her hand on mine and I immediately hold on to it as if it was a life jacket to what she only gave me her most shy but tender smile.

– You turned to be a very sweet man, Bob – Liz hold my hand back-. And I really like you…

– Liz – I unintentionally interrupted her, fearing that her final words would probably be painful for me since I was sensing some kind of hesitation in her voice- I know we barely know each other from few days ago but I have really wanting to tell you something…

Her blue eyes began sparkling under the pale light of the moon and my heart started racing like a steaming machine out of control. I got my hand inside my pocket and took a little box out of it; I opened it trying really hard to keep my shaking hands at bay so she didn’t notice how nervous I was. Once the shiny red stone caught her attention I felt confident enough to say the big words.

– ¿Would you marry me, Liz?

Judging by how hard she was squeezing my hand I could tell she had been caught totally by surprise and her reaction gave me hope. She took the small object out of the box and looked at it full of excitement and perplexity and started nodding until she finally said yes. My heart was pounding inside my chest like a giant old bell, not leaving more space for any other feeling but joy. Her face was distorted because a big smile that kept making the moon to look even smaller. We sealed our union with a long kiss and agreed to leave next day at night. We both knew that Elizabeth’s father won’t allow us to leave and less knowing that her daughter was planning to run away with a loser.

I have never had more than five dollars in my pocket and a clear destination where to head to but this time, this time was so different, I was carrying something with more value I could ever imagine and I had, for the first time in a long time, a crystal clear idea where to go. For the first time in my life I was certain about my future and happy to meet the person I was going to share it with. I might still be a loser with nothing to lose or maybe I'm just a lover with everything to live for...

Image: credits to the owner

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

Blind Au

Drabble 3....uhhhh here you go, slides this out closes rock door and hides probably like forever. Will probably notice typos misspellings so on so forth after posting lol.

"Are you sure this is permanent, I cannot exactly give you a diagnosis when I have not been allowed to study you before."

Flug was looking over the readings on his clipboard, Hat had never so much as even let himself be scanned prior to this moment, how was the Doctor supposed to instantaneously understand all this jibberish, such complex equations, beyond anything ever seen before, it said Black Hat existed and yet didn't that he was alive but not, the coins edge neither one side or the other, absolutely perplexing to the mind but fascinating all the same.

"Are there not...those of your kind trained in the medical field?"

He enquired, already having a feeling he knew that answer, but finding one here seemed like it might just very well be impossible the doctor thought while turning the page.

The demons mint coloured teeth were clenched, jaw tense as he ground out

"My kind as you put it are not in the business of caring for each other...I destroyed anyone I thought would be a decent challenge...they were all worthless in the end."

Black Hat was currently sitting on one of Flug's desks as he'd refused to go in the infirmary where he would have been left alone in his darkness with only irritating beeps and other small sounds that may as well have been screaming at him.

" Well you seemed to think taking Demencia's eyes was good idea, obviously though her eyes are genuinely too important too take..."

He paused a moment, fingers drumming on the clipboard before suggesting

"Perhaps we could set up a ceremony in your cult, make some elaborate lie that you need to feast on the body and keep the eyes as treasured memorabilia that someone willingly fed themselves to you."

"Or we could just get someone off the street and take their eyes."

Black Hat returned flatly, how in the hell was Flug...Acylius, so matter of fact about all of this!

He could hear the scrawling of the pen, his breathing, heartbeat...while Hat was showing himself to be fine, he was honestly anything but.

Everything was so intense, despite only seeing a world of ebony he could feel those harsh cold lights, all of the doctor's chemicals, while able to detect each one singularly they also merged as a whole, a part...well more than a part of him wanted to press his face against Acylius's throat, take in his scent.

Even when he'd made the annual visit to see the troops at his University he recalled how the doctor had smelled even then, it was the first time they met.

Pfft please, no mortals eyes deserve to rest in your skull, they are not worthy enough.

Flug thought in response, scoffing at the idea, inwardly of course.

The demon though was letting his mind wander recalling he'd even asked him why he donned such a peculiar object on his head.

(waves hands, why don't we just do a flash back, bloody idiot writer.)

Black Hat had seated himself on the edge of a desk in his University that belonged some teacher, ankles crossed as he half looked with interest over a black and red paperweight, colours swirling within, similar to something akin to a place he'd once considered home.

Claws tapping over the object he then pocketed it, this supposed top of the line student was running late.

A few more minutes and he would leave, his time was too valuable too waste.

Finally the large oak door creaked open, fear filling his nostrils as well as coffee and fast food, he near expected some slob to come through but instead what stepped through was a lean man of six ft and seven inches to be precise.

He was a near tower of a man, for some strange reason he wore a recycling bin on his head, no wait he could sense an energy all around him, he was wearing something that disguised him to the world, some type of hologuise band on his wrist, so what did the others usually see then, the demon allowed his sight to be tricked by this creation.

Ah so that's what they saw, a nervous man hunched over and a good foot shorter, the bin was very real though and that nervous disposition seemed somewhat genuine, there had been photo's of Kenning Flug slys taken and shown to him or so he had assumed until now, now it was a question of was there were in fact any images in existence of this man.

Even Kenning was an Alias, his real name was Acylius Flug.

So question was what did this doctorrr look like?

What did it matter, he was here to study his work...not pick up on the subtle hints of vanilla...sandalwood, oh? Was that a surprisingly expensive whisky in there to amongst that myriad of tantalising aromas, sweet and warming, touching the tip of his tongue to his teeth, wondering what he'd taste like, especially with that intoxicating smell of smoke that only fires left behind.

Pupil momentarily dilating in excitement, it was not unheard of that Black Hat would bed a student at the University if they took his fancy for Five minutes.

Holding out a hand the demon snapped, usual scowl falling into place, good job that bin was on his head, he was supposed to be angry at him...not expressing an interest in his...everything.

"You are late, you had better pray that your work makes up for it"

"My apologies sir, it is not a mistake I intend to repeat again."

Oh no...even his real voice held that of a warm gavel, cigar smoke evenings mixed with a feeling of deep velvet red.

(Ultron's voice without the robotic sound)

Clearing his throat he returned

"You are correct in that matter, if you do continue such behaviour, you forfeit any possibility in working for me."

The slight nervousness in Acylius Flug's voice seemed a little forced, intriguing.

A brow raised, flipping through the pages in hand he had to admit these were extremely organised and well put together and what was here put this man as being one of the most intelligent beings on Earth.

(Alas sadly I am not, so do not expect any cool scientific facts from me LOL)

His scientific prowess was almost reaching off world levels, even that hologuise did not change his form with the shift of light to be made hard, it literally changed his cells to transform his body.

"I am curious, why exactly do you wear that bin and make your self look like that? With your natural height you could put the fear into most..."

He trailed off, looking him up and down, thinking of those long...long legs wrapped around his waist in an attempt to crush him, did they ever end, that height did send tingles down his spine as he bit his bottom lip.

" I do not want people staring at me for one and I would rather they had their attention drawn to the bin than my face."

Flug replied curtly, fists clenching, he knew that tone all too well.

"Are you having fun imagining me in bed with you sir? We are supposed to be here discussing my work are we not...also when I reveal myself to a victim I get to enjoy their horror as they realise the mistake they have made."

A smirk forming on his features

" I am sure you have sensed, I am not entirely human."

"Yes indeed and perhaps I was, there is no shame in admiring art when it is there to see."

"Oh, what next you intend to draw me like one of your French boys or some ridiculous shit."

Studying Flug's work once more he actually snorted at his students response, sensing the eye roll even under that bin, he was liking him all for more because he wasn't throwing himself at him.

"Does it not get a little warm under there, all that hot breath, condensation on the plastic, the air is no doubt hot and stale in there."

Black Hat was trying to make him want to take that thing off, make him feel claustrophobic inside of that recycling bin, he wanted to see his face, of course he could have demanded it but where was the fun in that.

Chuckling at the audible swallow, watching as his hands fidgeted.

"Why not take it off, perhaps I could give you a little fresh air."

He purred, coming in closer.

"No offence sir but I would prefer to be taken seriously in my work."

The old demon was disappointed when he moved away, practically flinching at his advances, should he be offended?

Perhaps, but it wasn't disgust he sensed from him, no it was something more guarded.

"You are being taken seriously, though a little pleasure with business never hurt."

Usually he was not so fascinated by the presence of a student, none who had been in his sights in this way had lasted with their clothes on for long and in this case bin as well and it well and truly seemed like they weren't making it to the office desk or floor anytime soon.

"My work is my pleasure, outside pleasures are mere distractions."

(End of Flash back)

"It was so green."

Flug had been taking in the readings on the medical charts, if they could even be called that and checking him over when he heard that wistful voice, making him pause, only the soft humming of machines in their quiet with the odd beep here and there could be heard.

That distant stare in his masters eye was unsettling, that was something he was going to need to get used to...something Black Hat would have to live with forever.

"Acylius, are you still there?"

Black Hat knew he was, though the mostly quiet was beginning to close in around him, all this darkness there was nothing visual to focus on, to distract.

It was like being born again, when existence was not even a thing where he was no more than a single thing, dark within darkness, when the first light spread open its flowering petals he wept at its beauty, never knowing he'd feared that endless abyss would be all he'd ever know until now.

"What was green sir?"

The doctor asked gently as he set down his clipboard, the sound he noticed made Hat twitch and focus on its source , shoulders falling at a near audible breath.

"That ridiculous bin you used to wear on your head."

Hat rolled his eye, unaware that Flug had just been about to examine his eye again, partially bent down, Hats hand landed directly on his face...his bagless, bare face.

He was tense, feeling the warmth of his skin through his glove, then again his clothes were a part of him, they were him.

So.

Flug just felt NOW would be a good time to expose his face when he couldn't see.

In another circumstance his fingers would have explored over his features, lips, nose to see what he looked like finally...but this stung, it was a cruel joke, he usually was up for those...but not like this.

Flug might as well be mocking the fact that he was blind!

Claw tips pressed into flesh as a distinct growl of annoyance left him, Acylius had dared not moved in case Black Hat decided to rip his face off.

"So, you're taking advantage of my condition, my eyes unable to see are now your masks to which you hide behind. You are to tell me that bear even Demencia have seen this exposed, but not me?"

His eye went grey with streaks of blue as the rage swelled within him, those colours had changed with the demons affliction

"Do you find my condition some kind of joke, do you enjoy mocking me boy, are you amused now!"

Black Hat snarled shoving him back, hearing the stumbling and desperate grabbing at items a sudden yelp he near laughed until the sudden thud of something hard and the scent of blood.

People usually complained when bleeding, whimpered, made some kind of fuss....

His brow furrowed

"Flug?"

Silence....

"Acylius?"

Silence...

"Mine?"

He asked weakly, climbing off the table, hands out trying to search for his doctor, why wasn't he answering, he could still hear him breathing-

The demon tripped on one of Acylius's long legs, eye widening, using his hands to feel over him.... Well that was impressive....no focus, not the time, Flug could be dying right now, he needed to find where the blood was coming from.

Everyone believed he could control how long his workers lived for, what stupid nonsense, he'd even admitted to vomiting on his last scientist and saying 'and now we have Flug.'

This man was his, even if the bastard felt nothing for him, the doctor belonged to him, no one was going to take Acylius away, the demon would fight death itself blind or not!

Resting his hand on the tiled floor he came in contact with a thick warm liquid, this...this needed to go back inside.

That labored breathing was growing more and more shallow, crimson light engulfing his hands, the blood started receding, coming alive almost as it crawled back to where it'd spilled from, following the trail to the back of his head, hair clumped and matted until it wasn't.

His doctor was still unconscious, but he would live, no one would believe him capable of the evil he could do, especially as he lay there with his head on Flug's chest listening to his heart beat.

With each beat he made his breath follow, taking in his warmth.

Black Hat, once truly believed seeing the first light had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen...but that day they met, that wonderful soul, it's burning red, like fires endless and bright, he'd seen and knew there were no words in all the billions of languages to describe Acylius.

It didn't matter if he was still faceless to him, this being was the first true light in his dark world.

What had his doctor hurt himself on...reaching out, it must be something close.

There was something wooden...with a metal front, claw tips finding all the little holes and jack ports, knuckles knocking on its surface, he knew that dull metallic sound.

Demencia's amp, Demencia had been the reason Flug had nearly died, he was going to kill her!

(He's shifting blame obviously, Flug will absolutely set that straight I assure you!)

End

[maiddegree71-blog]

Our Favorite Videos of 2018

We put out a lot of videos this year, but the ones we've chosen to highlight below were are our personal favorites, the ones we cooked from and watched the most. These videos made us hungry, made us laugh, and helped us become better cooks. We learned how to roll out flaky and crisp paratha, cook dosa batter, emulsify a perfect pasta alla gricia, and more.

[Video: Serious Eats Team]

This is a great video. Maybe it's because Stella uses the term "Flufftown, USA;" maybe it's because of the really sexy chocolate-dipping shot to kind of Batman-ish soundtrack; or maybe it's because "Boop Boop Boop" has made it into Serious Eats vernacular. Aside from that, I truly appreciate the effort Stella made to develop the recipe. These Klondike bars are absolutely perfect, and the video made me feel like perhaps I could be successful at making them myself. —Ariel Kanter, director of commerce strategy and editorial

What Wouldn’t You Do for a Homemade Klondike Bar? »

[Video: Serious Eats Video.]

I don't think Stella will mind me telling you that she really, really doesn't like being on camera. I, however, love watching Stella on camera. Not because I'm sadistic and like seeing someone in discomfort; it's because she so successfully takes that "I don't want to be here" feeling and converts it into a perfectly snarky, yet still very likable, persona. This video is just one good example of Stella doing the thing she hates doing so well. —Daniel Gritzer, managing culinary director

Texas Sheet Cake Forever »

[Video: Natalie Holt]

Every time I eat dim sum (read: every single weekend), I marvel at the enormous towers of bamboo steamers coming from the kitchen. Providing a behind-the-scenes look at how these restaurants function is a fascinating idea, but doing so from the vantage point of a dim sum cart is both hilarious and revealing. Plus, the video illustrates just how talented—not to mention hard-working—the chefs and waiters at our favorite dim sum establishments are. —Elazar Sontag, editorial assistant

A Day in the Life of a Dim Sum Cart »

[Video: Serious Eats Team]

I really love this short and fun video. It’s a great combination of Sohla’s delightful energy and fun camera angles, and Vicky and Daniel’s hilarious cameo certainly help. Not to mention how fantastic the elote risotto pancake looks! —Grace Chen, office manager

Elotes Meet Risotto al Salto in an All-Star Mashup »

[Video: Serious Eats Team]

This starts out as an elegant but straightforward recipe video for a pressure cooker corn risotto, playing out to what looks like an orderly conclusion, only to carry on into an anarchic “next day” epilogue. It's a celebration of the impulsive spirit of making new dishes from leftovers. —John Mattia, video producer

Pressure Cooker Corn Risotto Cooks in Four Minutes, Tastes Like Summer »

[Video: Serious Eats Video]

Before I start, I need to give y'all a preface: I'm allergic to shellfish, and therefore did not eat this crab. But I did get to participate in the filming of it, where we hauled a big vat of crabs out into the courtyard of our office complex and had ourselves a little afternoon respite. I have happy memories of sitting and drinking beer in the sunshine, watching my coworkers savagely tear open crabs with their bare hands while following Daniel's instructions. The final product was one of our most-viewed videos of the year, which incited a lively debate in the comments on the semantics of "crab feast" versus "crab boil," which I moderated with great joy. — Kristina Bornholtz, social media editor

Zen and the Art of the Maryland Crab Feast »

[Video: Vicky Wasik]

I never jumped on the slime video bandwagon, and I think this is as close as I'm ever going to get. Equal parts strangely satisfying, suspenseful, and trypophobia-triggering, it’s got all the components of those videos you watch on the internet but you’re not really sure why. Plus, I learned how to griddle a dosa. —Maggie Lee, designer

Dosa (Indian Rice-and-Lentil Crepes) Recipe »

[Video: Natalie Holt]

In my personal life, I strive to maintain a nonjudgmental attitude, but my professional self knows that strong, sometimes unpopular, and well-founded convictions make good food writing, and, as it turns out, good food videos. (The "well-founded" aspect is an element I find to be missing from a lot of clickbait-y food opinion pieces out there.) Plus, food waste is a pet peeve of mine, so I had to love Wing Hysteric Daniel Gritzer's office exposé/mini tirade against those half-hearted eaters who lose interest in their chicken wings once they catch even a glimpse of bone. C'mon, people! Even your dog knows better than that! I especially like the theatrically sneaky jog into the kitchen around 1:05. —Miranda Kaplan, senior editor

The Right Way to Eat Chicken Wings Is All the Way »

[Video: Serious Eats Video]

I'll be honest: I really thought this video had a chance of going viral. Then I showed it to my sister-in-law, who looked confused and asked me what an Instant Pot is. Having to explain a joke isn't an encouraging sign about its quality; it also isn't really the kind of thing you want to do for a second time when you show it to your mom. And a third when you show it to your best friend. But, BUT! I'll do it for you anyway, because really, I promise, once you get it, you'll think it's just about the most hilarious thing you've ever seen. Premise: Instant Pots are all the rage! And they're great. They're also just...electric pressure cookers. When we decided to do this video, we thought we'd poke some inside-jokey-fun at the fact that Pinterest/Instagram/Facebook/The Whole Internet had become obsessed with a specific brand of a product that's been around for a long time. So...how about now? Is it funny now? DO YOU GET IT? I hope so. It's pretty great. —Niki Achitoff-Gray, executive managing editor

How to Get the Most Out of Your Instant Pot »

[Video: Serious Eats Team]

Toum really is the garlicky eggless mayo that goes with everything—watch the video—and it really is easy to make, and you really should make some yourself. But I picked this video as a reminder and warning for my past and future colleagues and friends: If you visit the Serious Eats office, you, too, might get tricked into singing Toumbop (to the tune of Mmmbop) on camera. —Paul Cline, VP of product

Traditional Toum (Lebanese Garlic Sauce) Recipe »

[Video: Serious Eats Team]

There's a lot to love about this video: parathas are one of my favorite foods; the double-coil technique; the weird, kind of creepy jazz. But the main reason I love this video is because of the "ooh" Sohla lets out when she puts her back into flattening the dough. — Sho Spaeth, features editor

Paratha (Flaky South Asian Flatbread) Recipe »

[Video: Serious Eats Team]

I could watch pasta videos for hours. Let's be honest, I have definitely done that. —Sasha Marx, culinary editor

Gricia Is the Silky, Porky Roman Pasta Everyone Should Know »

[Video: Natalie Holt]

As much as I love copycat recipes AND Lao Gan Ma brand chili crisp, it never occurred to me this was something I could make from scratch. But Sohla's excitement for breaking down the complexities of the recipe and straightforward technique won me over, and I wound up making a life-changing batch for myself. The video made it look like a lot of fun to try at home, and it was! —Stella Parks, pastry wizard

Chili Crisp: Spicy, Salty, Crunchy, Tingly, and Good on Everything »

[Video: Serious Eats Team]

I love this video because it took Stella and Sohla out of their comfort zones, and let their natural instincts shine through. This was one of the more chaotic/labor intensive/challenging shoots to date, but getting them out into the world at the farmer's market and then back in the kitchen was worth it for all the fun moments. I also think it gave the audience a closer look into how the Serious Eats test kitchens work. —Vicky Wasik, visual director

Mystery Box Cooking Challenge: Sohla Versus Stella »

[Video: Natalie Holt]

I'm a sucker for a Sohla video, and this one doesn't disappoint. Not only is it doubly informative, teaching you how to make a pan sauce and fix a broken one, but there's also a bit of comic relief towards the end. Two dogs, a Brad, and Sohla's crack-up laugh really round out a cooking video. —Tim Aikens, front-end developer

How to Make a Pan Sauce, and How to Fix a Broken One »

[Video: Serious Eats Video]

This video has changed my life. Okay, maybe a bit extreme, but it's true—I'll never pronounce "pestle" wrong again. The main reason I love this video so much is that it shows the level of research and obsession Daniel and the rest of the Serious Eats crew have for food, and all the ways you can prepare and cook it. Seeing Daniel test out and speak his mind about what applications each M&P succeeds and struggles with, I finished the video feeling like an expert. —Joel Russo, video producer

How to Pick the Best Mortar and Pestle »

[Video: Serious Eats Team]

How can you not love Stella's videos when she says stuff like, "Scraping a bowl is a way of showing a dough you care." It doesn't matter to me that this video is all about holiday gingerbread cookies, which I don't even like. I love this video for the same reason I love all of Stella's videos for Serious Eats. I think the way she interacts with the camera ends up putting the viewer at ease, and makes her incredibly delicious work seem all the more approachable. —Ed Levine, founder

Quick Gingerbread Cookies for Busy Holiday Bakers »

This post may contain links to Amazon or other partners; your purchases via these links can benefit Serious Eats. Read more about our affiliate linking policy.

Source: https://www.seriouseats.com/roundups/our-favorite-videos-2018

[artificialqueens]

Contact Epilogue (Trixya) - Stella

A/N: So normally I would just use this as a summary for the work, but I feel like I should explain a few things here instead. I know I promised a few more chapters, but I truly feel like this fic has reached it’s natural end. People don’t seem as interested, and it’s been way more work than it’s worth to write. After talking it over with some people (thank you Köhler for helping), it just feels right to end Contact here. It’s been an amazing five months, and I hope you guys will be just as enthusiastic about the other fics I have in the works as you all were about this one. If you have any questions please feel free to message me at @artificialstella!

Secrets were the hardest thing for Trixie to keep from Katya. She shared everything with the other woman, from the smallest mundane parts of her day to things she’s never told anyone before. Katya was just so easy to talk to that filtering herself felt like an impossible task. But sometimes secrets were necessary. Especially when it was keeping Katya from figuring out that there was a giant surprise party waiting for her back at their apartment.

“I want to look at it again babe, show me,” Trixie pleaded. Katya beamed, and held out her sleek folder to Trixie. Inside, Katya’s freshly printed Certificate of Naturalization was tucked in the pocket, a physical sign of her U.S. Citizenship. The feeling of pride towards her girlfriend had been making Trixie emotional all day, but every reminder that Katya had achieved her dream had a fresh round of tears springing in her eyes. She closed the folder and pulled the two of them to a stop so she could envelop Katya in a tight hug.

“God, I’m so proud of you,” she mumbled, pressing a kiss to Katya’s cheek. Katya laughed, probably for the millionth time that day. They were both in such high spirits, it was impossible for them to keep cool.

“I could not have done it without you maylsh,” Katya countered. “Now let us go, we are getting in the way of everyone else on the sidewalk.”

Trixie took Katya’s hand in hers again and they continued to walk back to their apartment complex. The closer they got, the more nervous Trixie got. She knew Katya would like the surprise she had planned for her no matter what, but she still wanted to make her happy. It was a huge day for Katya, probably the biggest in her life. Trixie wanted to prove to her that she had people who cared about her and wanted to celebrate her success with her.

“We should go to that restaurant on fifteenth street for dinner,” Katya suggested as they walked down the hall. Trixie hummed non-committedly, knowing full well that they weren’t going to need to go out for dinner. There was plenty of food waiting for them on the other side of the apartment door. Trixie held her breath as she inserted the key into the door and pushed it open.

“Congratulations Katya!” Everyone that was crammed into their small apartment cheered loudly, waving their little American flags. The entire living room was decorated with as much red, white and blue that Trixie could find at the party store. Even the guests were dressed in theme. Katya’s face was priceless as she gaped at the scene before her in shock. Slowly she turned to Trixie.

“Did you do this all for me?” She asked carefully. Trixie laughed and pulled her girlfriend in for a kiss.

“It’s a big day Kat, you deserve it,” Trixie replied. Katya pressed another kiss to her lips before turning to her party.

Trixie had made sure to invite everyone they were close to, and then some. Greg and his fiance Shannon were in the corner chatting with a few other couples from their building. There were a few of Katya’s old co-workers from the office clumped together, and thankfully her pervy old boss was nowhere in sight. The biggest group of people seemed to be those from Katya’s new job. Katya seemed to thrive as a yoga instructor, the fact that she had power over herself and got to wear all the pattern-problem clothes that she wanted to giving her the confidence she never had as a secretary. Plus, the women in her class adored her. Katya’s eccentric personality and thick accent always drew in a crowd to her classes. Of course Trixie had to invite her most faithful customers to cheer on their yogi. It was those women that immediately pulled Katya in, gushing over her cute business suit. Trixie smiled as she watched Katya interact with people. It’s been a long road to get to this point, and the relief was clear on Katya’s face. She looked so young, so full of life with her little flag pin gleaming on her blazer.

“You look like a lovesick idiot,” Pearl teased as she slipped next to Trixie. She handed her a cup filled with some sort of punch, probably made by Pearl herself for the party. Hopefully Katya would know to stay away from it tonight. But, seeing as Trixie wasn’t abstaining from alcohol she tapped her solo cup against Pearl’s and took a sip.

“Probably because I am one,” Trixie countered, her eyes still trained on her girlfriend.

“How was the ceremony?” Pearl asked.

“It was cute, everyone was so happy. It’s the first time I think I’ve ever seen an immigration officer smile,” Trixie explained.

“I feel like she’s been in this country forever, I can’t believe she’s just now become an official citizen,” Pearl continued. Trixie hummed in agreement. Pearl didn’t even know the half of what it took for Katya to get that little piece of paper. Hours of them staying up together, pouring over books and online tests. Hours of interviews, trying to find any little fault in Katya. It was a grueling process that took a lot out of both of them. That’s why this party was so important, it was their first sigh of relief in almost a year.

“So now that she’s an American are you gonna pop the big question?” Trixie nearly choked on her drink at Pearl’s words.

“Jesus, subtle much?” Trixie grumbled.

“You’re my best friend Trix, I just want to know what’s going on in your life,” Pearl said, feigning innocence.

“If you must know, we’ve talked about this and decided marriage wasn’t really for us,” Trixie explained. After Gregory, Katya wasn’t too in love with the concept. Marriage was just the legal word for two people who think they’re going to have happily ever after and want to write it off on their taxes. But neither of them wanted children, and they didn’t need a piece of paper to prove they were going to last. Marriage meant complacency, and forced expectations. Neither of which Trixie and Katya wanted for themselves.

“God, you two really are the modern couple,” Pearl groaned. “I’m gonna go hit on Katya’s hot yoga students. We should make athletic leggings mandatory uniform.”

Pearl pushed off the wall and made her way over to the gaggle of athletic young women in the center of the room. Left alone once again, Trixie decided to find her way over to their table where a feast’s worth of appetizers and finger foods were set up. She started loading up her plate with mini quiches and veggies, avoiding anything that looked like it had meat in it. Her day had been so busy that she hadn’t had the chance to eat a proper meal. As Trixie reached over to grab some cheese and crackers she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.

“Did you finally escape your students?” Trixie teased, leaning back into Katya. The older woman giggled and pressed her lips against Trixie’s neck.

“They are distracted by a certain predatory lesbian who is complimenting them all on their sports bras,” Katya hummed.

“Damn, I didn’t know Rosie O’Donnell would actually accept my invitation. I’ll have to go tell her how much I love her show later,” Trixie shot back with a grin. Katya snorted and dropped her head to Trixie’s shoulder.

“The only gay woman you are allowed to pay attention to today is me,” Katya pouted.

“Right, I’m sorry. Getting up at five in the morning to go with you to your interview, then your ceremony, all while planning a surprise party for you isn’t enough attention. I’m a terrible girlfriend, you should break up with me immediately,” Trixie sighed dramatically.

“I should, but I really like the water pressure in this apartment so I guess I will stay with you,” Katya mused.

“Using me for my water pressure, I knew it.” Trixie turned around in Katya’s arms and pecked her lips. “Do you like your party baby?”

“Of course! I will admit, I did not see it coming. You hid this from me very well,” Katya replied. “I do not know what we are going to do with all of these little flags, though. As an American citizen I would be offended if we just threw them out, you know.”

“We’ll make people take them home as souvenirs, I promise,” Trixie assured. Katya seemed pleased by her response.

“Good. I am going to go say hi to Ginger, I just wanted to check up on you,” Katya explained before disappearing back into the crowd. Trixie shook her head fondly and popped a carrot stick into her mouth. She was a lovesick fool, but she wouldn’t want it any other way.

The party lasted for hours, and Trixie was both physically and emotionally exhausted by the time the final guests trickled out of the room. Their cozy apartment was littered with plastic cups, paper plates, and decorations that had fallen to the floor throughout the night. Trixie knew it was going to be a monumental task cleaning up, but that was a problem for tomorrow’s Trixie. For now, all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed in a comfortable pair of pajamas and sleep until noon. Katya looked ready to pass out as well. All the excitement from the day was catching up to her, and it looked like she could barely stand on her own.

“C’mon Miss America, let’s get you to bed,” Trixie teased, wrapping her arm around Katya’s waist. Together they moved into the bedroom and changed out of their clothes in comfortable silence. Trixie was almost sure that Katya was going to pass out as soon as her head hit the pillow, but as the climbed under the covers, Katya brushed her fingers along Trixie’s cheek.

“I love you,” she murmured, her voice soft and eyes sincere.

“I love you too Kat,” Trixie replied easily. Katya’s hand moved to card through Trixie’s hair.

“You remember when we first got together? The night at the club?” Katya asked. When Trixie nodded, she continued. “I still mean what I said, you are always going to be the most important thing to me. Today would have meant nothing if it did not mean I get to spend my life with you.”

Trixie could feel a lump forming in her throat. Today had been too emotional, and now Katya’s admission on top of it was making it hard to keep from turning into a giant sap.

“I’d marry the fuck out of you,” Trixie whispered. A small smile twitched on Katya’s lips.

“I know maylsh, maybe one day. For now, this is all I need.” She cupped Trixie’s face and leaned forward to brush their lips softly together.

There was nothing more that had to be said to end such a perfect day. No declarations of love or continued sappy words needed to fill the empty space in the room. The only thing necessary was for the pair to do but fall asleep with the knowledge of their newfound freedom heavy in their minds.

[theculturalvacuum]

A Storm of Fan-Fic Asks Round-Up!

This is the last of the bunch that I’ve been hoarding. What we learned is that this story doesn’t have enough characters and that their relationships aren’t complex enough.

The next chapter is going to be a long one so, like, don’t hold your breath. (I promise it’ll be worth it?)

The Story: A Wedding in Sunspear

Anonymous said:

Lovin the tales you are spinnin My Lady, one little ask, why does Ormond never mention his mother when he asks about his sister and Clarion? Did she die? Run away to spouse island? Went home? Gone native and living with a paramour? Been fridged?

I mean, having one parent be mysteriously non-existent is kind of a Martin-esque tradition when it comes to Dorne… I don’t think she’s dead. Her name isn’t grey on the family tree. She may be like Senna on Project Voicebend, except she never asserts that she is also there?

I doubt Edgar pays her much attention, and the kids take their cues from him.

Anonymous said:

Wow, Daeron is a dick, but very realistic. Especially with all his privilege and probably no one ever telling him the truth. Even Jeremy probably still sugar coats things to him, given their situation and the massive difference in rank. Also for Daeron all the love matches around him he probably makes him think he deserves a bite of that pie too. Everyone else in his family broke engagements why shouldn't he. Maybe he didn't want to be left out of that club.

Daeron is, indeed, a dick.

Like, Jeremy deserves so much fucking better. Any decent thing Daeron has ever done was only because Jerry was there having a positive influence. What does he see in the spoiled dickhead?

Sorry, sometimes I forget that I made up this relationship dynamic and it makes me angry.

Anonymous said:

Are you sure you didn't get the lineages wrong with Deneza and Joleta. The one without the Martell Mama is the one who seems much more Martell (or at least the devotion of job and duty) and the one with the Martell Mama seems to embrace the Martell special status she gets from it but not take on any of the duty aspects.

Ha. Maybe that’s Joleta’s Gargalen side? I have no clue. They’re certainly more chill than Martells.

Deneza’s job is kind of a big deal. And this wedding is the biggest thing she done. Joleta is kind of being a jerk.

Anonymous said:

What's the coat of arms of House Laq? I'm guessing it's got light green on it somewhere, considering Kylie's family tree

Yes, it’s a light green field with a grey stone watchtower. Their words are “Our Ground Remains Firm”. Because, like, they live in a river valley in the middle of a desert that floods seasonally, like the Nile, so the literal ground isn’t so firm, by they are. Because they’re so steadfast and junk.

Yeah.

Anonymous said:

Well now I have to know more specifics So what fruits is Deneza into? Dates? Berries? Apples? Figs? Pomegranates? Apricots? Or is she a junk food dornish style kind of gal who? Is she secretly into dornish eggs? The ones that don't exist like spaghetti Bolognese doesn't but weirdly she likes this northern appropriation of what they think is a dornish dish.

She likes persimmons, because they’re the best and she has good taste.

She thinks all those northern “Dornish” dishes that they think are spicey but totally are not are adorable.

Anonymous said:

I feel like the big thing that's coming is dany and maron fucking in the middle of a feast or something. Am I close?

Omg. No comment.

Anonymous said:

Is Simon Leygood the indebted Simon who tried for Rohanne's hand? Or is he another Simon? Lets hope Lady Blackmont keeps him away from money if he's the same guy.

No, that dude would be, like 100 years old by now. Those Leygoods have family names, I guess.

Anonymous said:

Will we hear a bit more about how Owain is coping in Dorne in the upcoming chapters? I wonder if in the future he'll go native. His life will be interesting and a bit freer. He's there with his cousin who is going to be the consort of the Princess of Dorne and he's staying there so he'll be a well connected match for a lady of Dorne who wants to be closer connected to the Princely house. He seems quite easy going, Dorne might agree with him. Plus he's under miles less pressure than Eliott

Well, he’s Eliott’s BFF, so he’ll be around for sure.

I’m sorry, but anything like the phrase “Dorne agrees with me” just reminds me of Madison and her stupid slutty dress. Maybe Owain will start wearing a bathrobe of sex appeal?

JK, he doesn’t wear a sword on dates either.

To be honest, I haven’t given much thought to Owain’s future, maybe he’ll hook up with Alyse Ladybright. She would see all the social climbing implications that you mentioned.

Anonymous said:

Daenella is the best. Kind of nice to see a sort of somewhat anti-martell who doesn't take her responsibilities so seriously. I'm sure those poor smallfolk where she is were delighted when she came thinking that they'd get answers to their questions and then action and now they're probably sitting around wondering if they could exchange their martell for another one

Aw, poor smallfolk.

I wouldn’t call her an anti-Martell, though. Her ability to flit around doing whatever is just the other side of the privilege coin as Loree and her tyrannical tendencies.  

Anonymous said:

Yay, was cool seeing a bit more the bigger non POV characters again like Joleta and Rhona. Rhona is a superstar, she not only gets all the shit done, knows everyones name, now she's lost her bed as well. I'm glad she seems to have job satisfaction though, lol, she has a fantastic position at court in the ear of the future ruling Princess a job she'll likely have for a long while is the grooming to take over goes well, I'm sure losing her bed for a little bit is no huge price to pay

Yeah, Rhona has a pretty plum gig. And she’s good at her job and everyone knows it. I think her brand of administrative competence is admired the same way that martial abilities in men are admired. It’s the same reason Deneza is thought to be such a badass, for example.

It’s kind of a bizarre world where you can parlay a job helping a lady put on her jewelry into one collecting taxes or whatever, isn’t it?

Anonymous said:

Poor Genna that must have all been very unpleasant. I don't thik she expected that to happen probably a dornish guy wouldn't have bragged in the same way or at least not in that particular setting, plus the dynamic would have been different with a dornish guy. don't think she was quite prepared for this mess at all, nice to see her with Gallwel though, although he's a younger brother so that's probably a different kind of dynamic than one where Maron sees her as a younger sister to protect.

Yeah, Genna might have the Martell lack of perfect judgement when it comes to sexual partners, but she wouldn’t have done it if she knew that would happen. And gender roles still exist, so most women would think they need a bro to punch dudes in the face.

Anonymous said:

What do you mean you hope Joleta and Deneza don't hit any rough patches, you naughty author!!!!!! You are the boss of them don't let them control you, you tell them to behave and play nice and be together and happy forever. Thank god there isn't any bullets in this world or else you know exactly who those damn things will be attracted to like magnets. Thankfully lesbians seem to have less issues with arrows.

You know, relationships are hard.

I’m not saying arrows will be involved, but there will be exactly one death in this story.

Anonymous said: How widely known is it that Arion is Genna Sand's father? Maron, Dany, and Genna herself all seem to know, as does Ariandra Fowler (who seems to think it's her duty to know everyone's business). Is it one of those things that almost everybody knows, but it's considered rude to talk about?

Dude, everyone knows. It’s officially just a rumour, but it was obvious from day One.

Anonymous said:

How do you imagine Ormond and Olyvar Sand's relationship? Ormond squired for Olyvar and was knighted by him, but he seems to have a closer relationship with Rhod than Olyvar. Speaking of Ormond, do you see him a foil for Loree? Loree is almost a perfect reflection of her father, while Ormond is quite different from his own father. Is that just a product of being raised at Sunspear/the Water Gardens or would Ormond and Edgar be different even if Ormond were raised at Yronwood?

Yeah, I should put some work in that relationship. Olyvar is kind of intense, so I think Ormond couldn’t really turn to him for that more nurturing father role that he needed, and Rhod is a total softy. But as I said, I’ll put thought into this.

As for Ormond being nothing like Edgar… I suggest rereading “Ormond I”?

Anonymous said:

I'm really enjoying your Rowan's. I was always going to like the Martells because well duh!!, but the Rowans have really got my attention, particularly the two cutie pies of Sarra and Aelora, as well as my main man Adwin. Eliott is fun but I foresee him having a rocky road ahead before he finds any kind of solid ground in Dorne. Corret is like the typical Reach dude who even has his own courtly love story that could be a song. It's good to see them holding their own in the character stakes.

Thank you. Women with patriarchy brain are the most fascinating characters ever, and Corret is a bit of a challenge. It’s really tempting to make him a total asshole, but I have Tybutt for that.

Anonymous said:

I'm strangely positive for virgingate. I feel like Eliott needs to have his bubble properly burst before she can actually get his head around the life and marriage he's going to have. Once he's done that then he can slowly start finding a place in his new world and creating an actual relationship with Loree and learning and embracing soft power and a role he never thought he'd have. But until the bubble truly burst he'll keep clinging to the image in his head of how he thought his life would be

Well, I guess the question is if he’ll be able to get over himself.

Anonymous said:

Okay so I'm sorry, but in a modern au what are the cliche college tropes for your characters? Lewyn is the likeable jock, for instance.

Okay, here we go:

Loreza - the legacy kid who still gets straight As.

Eliott - Soccer player who everyone likes. Very good at beer pong. Secretly came to university to actually learn.

Alyse - the naturally brilliant one who doesn’t need to study.

Horas - Asshole football player who everyone tolerates because football in American universities terrifies me.

Dany - the younger sister who came for a tour and ended up drunk.

Rhona - Obsessed with her resume

Morgan - the younger brother who has all the college sweatshirts and wears them to middle school

Maron - the legacy kid who wouldn’t have gotten in otherwise

Lewyn - the good hearted football player everyone likes

Joleta - the party girl/star of the tennis team

Ormond - Double major in english and history. He didn’t make the team. He’s invited to all the parties but ends up taking care of the drunk people. His dad is in jail for a while collar crime.

Elda - the one who’s in the pictures from all the parties, but is never tagged

Genna - the cool one who also has a tragic backstory

Jeremy - closeted water polo player

Daeron - the fine arts major with blue hair. His thing is graphic design. It’s his passion.

Rolyn - IR major who likes to play frisbee on the lawn of the frat house. Member of the debate team, but he makes it cool.

Eldon - Baseball player who’s fucking a professor. He’s a really good pitcher, but chose college over the farm system. General mensch.

Mariah Florent - the cheerleader that no one finds hot

Olenna - in the marching band.

Ami - the one who you don’t understand how the hell she got into a university in the first place. Oddly devoted to her boring, and much less hot, boyfriend.

Tyia - Scholarship student who studies accounting because she’s sensible. Plays the flute in the orchestra.

Alleza - High school kid who takes college courses for fun.

Alastor - Brilliant history grad student with a substance abuse problem. He’s the TA who shows up shit faced.

Deria - Cool professor, buys the underage students beer.

Artyr - Perfectly adequate polisci grad student overshadowed by his sister.

Deneza - Economics postgrad well into the tenure track. Somehow got herself involved with a student.

Anonymous said:

Maron only likes three people? I'm assuming that means Arion, Morgan and Dany. But he seemed to like Genna well enough. Does he not like his grandfather and mother and aunts, and uncle? Even though one of his aunts and his uncle are so much younger than him, he surely can't dislike those two that much, Devan in particular is only a kid. I can imagine though when he is at Wyl him and Ariandre have an interesting relationship to say the least.

I’m not sure how much Maron like Arion, to tell you the truth. He did kind of, like, abandon him for ten years. His formative years too. And a lot of Arion’s proud papa stuff with him is guilt. (He’s still a Martell, after all.) This is another thing I should actually explore, I think….

But yeah, I meant Dany and his two sibs as the three people. He thinks the rest of his family are okay, I guess, but those are the three people he would actually get off his ass for.

Anonymous said:

My main take away from this new sumptuous chapter was, Deneza works too hard, Joleta feels neglected, probably horny and Deneza feels like Joleta doesn't care about how much pressure she's under right now. Not sure much else happened in this chapter, think there was some guy called Daeron involved in some fuckery but mainly my attention was fully on my OTP of this canon having a domestic. When this is all over Deneza and Joleta need some alone nakey time and a looooooong chat, then more nakey.

You know, if sex could solve all relationship problems like that, I would never have any relationship problems ever. What a world that would be.

But yeah, Joleza are way more interesting that Daeron had his general dickishness.

Anonymous said:

I have no idea what you've got planned (or not planned) for little Ellaria Uller but I hope we get to see her interact with her dad when Corret I around. I just want to see the contrast between them, but also secretly I want Ellaria to be the very clever type who Dylan hopes might one day be a Keeper of a Tower, or another high ranking job. And Corret is just bewildered by it all, and how Dylan is so into the idea of having a clever daughter who will help run Dorne.

I like this idea. She wants to be just like her Aunt Deria when she grows up.

And poor Corret.

Anonymous said:

Besides Daenella, would you describe any of the Martells in your fic as hot Martells? Rhod and all his siblings seem to be pretty cold (even Arion only seems lukewarm) and Loree and Lewyn both seem pretty cold as well. Would Maron and Joleta count as hot Martells because they're half Martell or are the disqualified for not having the Martell name?

Well, the Hot and Cold Martell paradigm is a gross oversimplification of complex personalities. People like neat stories.

That being said, Rhod and Loree are both about as Cold as you can get. But even they both have… moments. Keep reading.

Arion is more than fifty, so he’s mellowed out. In his youth he was as Hot as Oberyn was, even if he never managed to kill any of his dad’s bannermen. Trystana is… not as Cold as she’d like to think. Lewyn is quite lukewarm. Maybe because he’s just a kid or maybe because I haven’t really characterized him all that well.

I don’t think people in Dorne would consider Maron or Joleta Martell enough to have a temperature.

Anonymous said:

Is the lack of Fossoways at the wedding intentional? I'd have thought they'd be all over this situation given their close blood connection to Eliott?

To tell you the truth, I never considered them. This story already has so many characters.

God, this ask round-up is all about my failings as an author isn’t it? If you like you can pretend they’re there in one of the giant retinues, but never do anything worth mentioning.

[dfroza]

Today’s reading in the ancient book of Proverbs and Psalms

for Saturday, August 22 of 2020 with Proverbs 22 and Psalm 22 accompanied by Psalm 64 for the 64th day of Summer and Psalm 85 for day 235 of the year

[Proverbs 22]

A beautiful reputation is more to be desired than great riches,

and to be esteemed by others is more honorable

than to own immense investments.

The rich and the poor have one thing in common:

the Lord God created each one.

A prudent person with insight foresees danger coming

and prepares himself for it.

But the senseless rush blindly forward

and suffer the consequences.

Laying your life down in tender surrender before the Lord

will bring life, prosperity, and honor as your reward.

Twisted and perverse lives are surrounded by demonic influence.

If you value your soul, stay far away from them.

Dedicate your children to God

and point them in the way that they should go,

and the values they’ve learned from you will be with them for life.

If you borrow money with interest,

you’ll end up serving the interests of your creditors,

for the rich rule over the poor.

Sin is a seed that brings a harvest;

you’ll reap a heap of trouble with every seed you plant.

For your investment in sins pays a full return—

the full punishment you deserve!

When you are generous to the poor,

you are enriched with blessings in return.

Say goodbye to a troublemaker and you’ll say goodbye

to quarrels, strife, tension, and arguments,

for a troublemaker traffics in shame.

The Lord loves those whose hearts are holy,

and he is the friend of those whose ways are pure.

God passionately watches over

his deep reservoir of revelation-knowledge,

but he subverts the lies of those who pervert the truth.

A slacker always has an excuse for not working—

like “I can’t go to work. There’s a lion outside!

And murderers too!”

Sex with an adulteress is like falling into the abyss.

Those under God’s curse jump right in to their own destruction.

Although rebellion is woven into a young man’s heart,

tough discipline can make him into a man.

There are two kinds of people headed toward poverty:

those who exploit the poor

and those who bribe the rich.

[Sayings of the Wise Sages]

Listen carefully and open your heart.

Drink in the wise revelation that I impart.

You’ll become winsome and wise

when you treasure the beauty of my words.

And always be prepared to share them at the appropriate time.

For I’m releasing these words to you this day,

yes, even to you, so that your living hope

will be found in God alone,

for he is the only one who is always true.

Pay attention to these excellent sayings of three-fold things.

For within my words you will discover true and reliable revelation.

They will give you serenity so that you can reveal

the truth of the word of the one who sends you.

Never oppress the poor

or pass laws with the motive of crushing the weak.

For the Lord will rise to plead their case

and humiliate the one who humiliates the poor.

Walk away from an angry man

or you’ll embrace a snare in your soul

by becoming bad-tempered just like him.

Why would you ever guarantee a loan for someone else

or promise to be responsible for his debts?

For if you fail to pay you could lose your shirt!

The previous generation has set boundaries in place.

Don’t you dare move them just to benefit yourself.

If you are uniquely gifted in your work,

you will rise and be promoted.

You won’t be held back—

you’ll stand before kings!

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 22 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 22]

A Prophetic Portrait of the Cross

For the Pure and Shining One

King David’s song of anguish

To the tune of “The Deer at the Dawning of the Day”

God, my God!

Why would you abandon me now?

Why do you remain distant,

refusing to answer my tearful cries in the day

and my desperate cries for your help in the night?

I can’t stop sobbing.

Where are you, my God?

Yet I know that you are most holy; it’s indisputable.

You are God-Enthroned, surrounded with songs,

living among the shouts of praise of your princely people.

Our fathers’ faith was in you—

through the generations they trusted and believed in you

and you came through.

Every time they cried out to you in their despair,

you were faithful to deliver them;

you didn’t disappoint them.

But look at me now; I am like a woeful worm,

crushed, and I’m bleeding crimson.

I don’t even look like a man anymore.

I’ve been abused, despised, and scorned by everyone!

Mocked by their jeers, despised with their sneers,

as all the people poke fun at me, spitting their insults,

saying, “Is this the one who trusted in God?

Is this the one who claims God is pleased with him?

Now let’s see if your God will come to your rescue!

We’ll just see how much he delights in you!”

Lord, you delivered me safely from my mother’s womb.

You are the one who cared for me ever since I was a baby.

Since the day I was born, I’ve been placed in your custody.

You’ve cradled me throughout my days.

I’ve trusted in you and you’ve always been my God.

So don’t leave me now; stay close to me!

For trouble is all around me and there’s no one else to help me.

I’m surrounded by many violent foes;

mighty forces of evil are swirling around me

who want to break me to bits and destroy me.

Curses pour from their mouths!

They’re like ravenous, roaring lions tearing their prey.

Now I’m completely exhausted; I’m spent.

Every joint of my body has been pulled apart.

My courage has vanished and

my inward parts have melted away.

I’m so thirsty and parched—dry as a bone.

My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

And now you’ve left me in the dust for dead.

They have pierced my hands and my feet.

Like a pack of wild dogs they tear at me,

swirling around me with their hatred.

They gather around me like lions to pin my hands and feet.

All my bones stick out.

Look at how they all gloat over me and stare!

With a toss of the dice they divide my clothes among themselves,

gambling for my garments!

Lord, my God, please don’t stay far away.

For you are my only might and strength.

Won’t you come quickly to my rescue?

Give me back my life.

Save me from this violent death.

Save my precious one and only

from the power of these demons!

Save me from all the power of the enemy,

from this roaring lion raging against me

and the power of his dark horde.

I will praise your name before all my brothers;

as my people gather I will praise you in their midst.

Lovers of Yahweh, praise him!

Let all the true seed of Jacob glorify him with your praises.

Stand in awe of him, all you princely people,

the offspring of Israel!

For he has not despised my cries of deep despair.

He’s my first responder to my sufferings,

and he didn’t look the other way when I was in pain.

He was there all the time, listening to the song of the afflicted.

You’re the reason for my praise; it comes from you and goes to you.

I will keep my promise to praise you before all who fear you

among the congregation of your people.

I will invite the poor and broken,

and they will come and eat until satisfied.

Bring Yahweh praise and you will find him.

Your hearts will overflow with life forever!

From the four corners of the earth,

the peoples of the world will remember and return to the Lord.

Every nation will come and worship him.

For the Lord is King of all, who takes charge of all the nations.

There they are! They’re worshiping!

The wealthy of this world will feast in fellowship with him

right alongside the humble of heart,

bowing down to the dust, forsaking their own souls.

They will all come and worship this worthy King!

His spiritual seed shall serve him.

Future generations will hear from us

about the wonders of the Sovereign Lord.

His generation yet to be born will glorify him.

And they will all declare, “It is finished!”

The Book of Psalms, Poem 22 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 64]

For the worship leader. A song of David.

O True God, hear my voice! Listen to my complaint!

Guard my life; keep me safe from my enemy’s threats.

Hide me from the sinful circle that conspires against me,

from the band of rebels out to make trouble,

Who sharpen their tongues into swords,

who take aim with poisonous words like arrows.

They hide in the shadows and shoot at the innocent;

they shoot at them without warning and without any fear.

They persist in their evil purpose

and plan in secret to lay their traps.

And they say, “Who will see them?”

They plot their offense with precision and say,

“Now we have the perfect crime.”

The human heart and mind are deep and complex.

But without hesitation the True God will shoot at them;

His arrow will surely wound them.

He will use their very own words to bring them to destruction;

all who see will be appalled at what happens to them.

Then everyone will fear the True God;

they will proclaim His deeds

and will reflect upon all He has done.

The righteous will delight in the Eternal

and will take shelter in Him.

All those with an honest heart will glorify Him!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 64 (The Voice)

[Psalm 85]

Mercy and Truth

For the Pure and Shining One

A prophetic song, composed by the sons of Korah

Lord, your love has poured out

so many amazing blessings on our land!

You’ve restored Jacob’s destiny from captivity.

You’ve forgiven our many sins and covered

every one of them in your love.

Pause in his presence

So now it’s obvious that your blazing anger has ended and

the furious fire of wrath has been extinguished by your mercy.

So bring us back to loving you, God our Savior.

Restore our hearts so that we’ll never again

feel your anger rise against us.

Will you forever hold a grudge?

Will your anger endure for all time?

Revive us again, O God! I know you will! Give us a fresh start!

Then all your people will taste your joy and gladness.

Pour out even more of your love on us!

Reveal more of your kindness and restore us back to you!

Now I’ll listen carefully for your voice

and wait to hear whatever you say.

Let me hear your promise of peace—

the message every one of your godly lovers longs to hear.

Don’t let us in our ignorance turn back from following you.

For I know your power and presence shines on all your lovers.

Your glory always hovers over all who bow low before you.

Your mercy and your truth have married each other.

Your righteousness and peace have kissed.

Flowers of your faithfulness are blooming on the earth.

Righteousness shines down from the sky.

Yes, the Lord keeps raining down blessing after blessing,

and prosperity will drench the land with a bountiful harvest.

For deliverance and peace are his forerunners,

preparing a path for his steps.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 85 (The Passion Translation)