#its about food work and sacrifice and never expecting a reward

[rabdoidal]

thinking about my sad cleric and religious responsibility and trying to find controlled moments of chaos to feel like you have control over your life (and trying not to have gay feelings)

🌹 kofi link in bio if you’re feeling generous 🌹

[yandere-sins]

Favorite

You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.

Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)

a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)

Darkness is a vampire's best friend. 

It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn. 

Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them. 

Deeper and deeper into the darkness.

"Hello, darling."

You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.

The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night. 

Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.

He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you. 

Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course. 

You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.

"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.

Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position. 

You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.

You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.

"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.

"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows. 

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes. 

"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."

His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.

A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head. 

"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."

A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace. 

"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."

You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"

"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."

This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear. 

"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"

The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words. 

Favorite. You were his favorite.

You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt. 

"You're my undoing, pet."

"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."

Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.

 "It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."

"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.

"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."

And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees. 

You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.

"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.

Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."

"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."

It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."

"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything. 

"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."

"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food. 

"Oh, the food!" 

His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it. 

"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything,  I promise."

His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.

"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."

There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.

"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."

"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin. 

"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."

For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.

"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."

"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now. 

"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."

There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?

But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place. 

 "That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake. 

You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care. 

By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.

"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."

You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead. 

"And you're mine. All mine."

At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.

And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.

Because you were his favorite.

And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.

[thequeendomhq]

NAME. Belladonna AGE & BIRTH DATE. 576 & November 2nd 2448 AC GENDER & PRONOUNS. Cis Female & She/Her NATIONALITY. Lysaran SPECIES. Genasi ( Circle of Dreams ) FACTION. N/A OCCUPATION. Owner of Veil of Veins FACE CLAIM. Kate Siegel

biography

( tw: starvation, physical abuse, cannibalism )

Under a star of blessings, Belladona was born chosen. 

Fate’s savior, golden child, destiny’s gifted weave. 

A Dúnedain that remembered her first life as keenly as she remembered her name. A child who explored the realm of dreams and stars as if it were her own. A destined savior, a shining star to lead in the ever growing dark. The Arches called her, their whispers drawing her near in the world of dreams and she knew she would answer the call. 

It was the only path she could take that would end the hunger.

Fate’s savior, golden child, destiny’s gifted weave. 

Under a star of blessings, Belladona was born hungry.

The hunger sits at the pit of her stomach, ever present-never satisfied, waiting to be feed and despairing when it is. Meager scraps decorate the plate before her, her mother, Fiona, mustering the last of their food to give her a meal to dull the roaring of Belladona’s gut. Fiona doesn’t eat, ignoring her own hunger to feed her child, ignoring the pangs with the practiced ease of someone who had gotten used to ignoring the pain of her husband’s fist. Isolated as they are in their village, there is nothing she can do about their situation, there is no friendly face to turn to, no helping hand reaching to lift her and her child from the hell she had accidentally signed herself to after falling in love with a disgraced adventurer. 

There are worse places than the Abyss, and sometimes those places feel like a rotting home. 

A weak yet steadfast mother, an erratic and rageful father. 

An empty stomach. 

An overwhelming hunger.

It’s not what she deserves, after her sacrifices in her past life. Not what she is owed, after a lifetime of suffering and forcing herself to be what the Weave wanted her to be. A friend, a helper, a healer, a savior: Belladona once wore the titles with pride, knowing she was fulfilling the Weave’s pattern and following its will. She was hungry in that lifetime, too, but back then it had been a point of pride. She had been chosen above all others to be the golden child, destiny’s gifted weave. What did it matter if she went to bed hungry, if she gave her bread to a child that would later save hundreds and would remember her fondly? What did it matter, if she felt stomach eating itself, as she worked herself to the bone to mend the wounded and steady the faltering? She was a Dúnedain, beyond worldly concerns. An acolyte to the Weave, following dutifully without reward or recognition, because that was what she was meant to be, that was what others meant her to be. 

It didn’t matter how starvation sunk into her very bones, drawing from her marrow and weakening her with every step as she coveted the bread she gave away. It didn’t matter how the frostbite seeped into her fingers as she gave away a coat to a future leader, all because the Weave urged her to give away the clothes from her back, no matter how much she liked them. It didn’t matter, it couldn’t, because she was fate’s savior. 

She was a blessed star for her kind and all her efforts would be rewarded. All her suffering, all her sacrifice, it would all be worth it at the end, in this life or the next. If she lived up to expectations, if she became the chosen they said she was; one day she would go to bed with a filled stomach, and a soft warmth to welcome her to her dreams. 

If she bled herself to the bone, if she flayed herself playing her role, if she played the chosen one as she was supposed to be. 

It would all be worth it. 

It had to be. 

Once, she believed her future was predetermined, her lives arranged to reward her for her faith and devotion. Once, she thought it would be all worth it. Once, she did not fear dying for she knew the Weave would bring balance and for all that she had sacrificed, she would be given an equal reward.

Once, once, once. 

Then Belladona died.

Alone, forgotten, and hungry.  

And the hunger followed her to her next life, into a home that felt like the Abyss. Into a house haunted by her living mother, and terrorized by her drunk father. 

The seed of darkness was planted as she stared down at her plate, her father’s leftover all that was left to her. It would not be enough to satisfy the hunger, she knew, and for a moment she wondered.

Was all that she had done, all she had given up to follow the Pattern, for this?

The thought is quickly erased, the weight of the expectations she knows will fall upon her shoulders once she reaches the Arches, squishing away the dissent. 

Fate’s savior, golden child, destiny’s gifted weave. 

Under a star of blessings, Belladona was born chosen. 

Again and again, she told herself this as she hid away in the realm of dreams and stars to hide away from her father’s wandering fists. Again and again, she reminded herself of her duty, as she watched her mother grow thinner and thinner, and the food before her grow scarcer and scarcer as her father grew fatter and fatter. Again and again, she whispered the belief as she wandered the channels of dreams, the Arches looming in the distance and feeding the longing to end the hunger. 

Her hunger, her mother. 

They were all she had, and all she would ever have unless she answered the call of the Arches, unless she went to reach them and met the destiny that she had always been told she had. There is no hesitation as she leaves her home behind, called by the signs of the Arches. A quick promise to come back to her mother binds her to return to the home that feels like the Abyss, an empty rucksack hangs from her shoulders as she considers the distance, and a snoring father allows her to slip away unnoticed and unbruised.

There is no hesitation as Belladona steps into the Arches. Memories of her first time accompany her through the journey, the comparisons keeping her steady as she crosses one arch, then another, and then the last. There is no fear as she walks through her tests, knowing her old self fully and unknowing of the dark seed hidden within herself, ready to sprout in the right conditions. Belladona steps out of the Arches with her head height, in that moment every bit the golden child, the fate’s savior, destiny’s gifted weave.  

Then Belladona returns home, ready to take her mother’s hand and pull her away from the darkness, just as she is expected, just as someone else should have. Younger than she had been when she crossed the Arches in her first life, Belladona is hopeful, eager,  to see her mother again, to bring her the salvation she needed after watching Fiona sacrifice herself night after night for her. If there was someone who deserved the Weave’s love, she thought, it was the mother that defended her child from the threats within her home. 

Belladona soon comes to learn that there is no such thing as the Weave’s love. 

Destiny is written in the stars for those who can read them, and Belladona had been unable to read her mother’s fate. What she finds when she gets back is a battered corpse and a drunk father. Helper, healer, friend. Not once in her first life she had turned away from a person in need, and yet destiny had repaid her by ensuring her mother never received the helper-healer-friend she needed to survive.

The dark seed that had been born from hunger germinates, bathed in her mother’s blood, and once more, Belladona finds hunger. It’s a different sort of hunger, this hunger born of anger and the desire for revenge, out of the unholy visions shown in the Arches she had dismissed as unbelievable but now saw otherwise. It’s a hunger unlike anything she has felt before, and as her mother lies dead on the floor, Belladona is unable to resist it.

It’s all she has now, after all, no shining destiny as she had been promised, no kind mother as she had been gifted, no better life as she had expected.

Only the hunger, only the desire. 

The dark manifests from a thousand and more intrusive thoughts, nourished by the Arches and the ambitions planted on her head by those who whispered of her greatness. Belladona had been told she would be great, and she had thought that with greatness came comfort. But for all the power she had over the realm of the dreams and stars, she could not save her mother’s life. For all her efforts and all her hopes, she did not know if her next life would be better than the last. 

The night is dark, and regrets are few as she licks the grease out of her fingers, her mother’s corpse on the table with her as she feasts on roasted adventurers, his blood collected for the plan she is building on her head. 

The Weave was fickle with its blessing, a lifetime of efforts unrewarded and a future uncertain. There is no knowing whether her hunger will ever be satisfied if she follows the pattern’s will, there is no knowing if her next life will  be less harsh than this one. 

Belladona is tired of hunger, she is tired of a lifetime of work with no rewards. 

Following the Pattern, being its favorite little acolyte, had given her nothing but pain and hunger, nothing but toil and trouble. It was a gamble, to continue serving a destiny that would not serve her. Would she suffer again in her next life? Would she be born to riches? To rags? 

There is no knowing, there is no divining. 

The Weave’s will had always been her guide, but it had never given the answers she sought.

Destiny wanted her to gamble, wanted her to follow the well-trodden path, wanted her to break her bones and back serving the future that did not reward her. 

Belladona was tired of the odds, so as she feasted on her father and satisfied the hunger born from starvation, she planned. 

She was sick and tired of uncertainty, of hesitation. The future was unknown, her final destination blurry, but there was one way to clear the doubt, one clear to open the path ahead far and wide until she could see the end. 

Until she could know how she would end. 

If the Weave wanted her to gamble, she would go all in. 

Building the altar she had seen in her distant dreams was easy, the memories clearer than usual, as if someone was guiding her hand, promising her that her choice was well made. Spilling her father’s blood over the altar is easy, determined fingers painting the symbols etched in her mind with single-minded dedication until the invitation is complete. Then, her blood drips over the symbols, blurring them and mixing with the ancient magic and the intent. 

Her deal with the Dark One is simple: she gives him the world of dreams, and he gives her everything that the Weave owes her. 

Belladona gambled with her life, she gambled with her soul, for at least, as a Genasi there was no uncertainty: she would always know where she would end. 

personality

+ Playful. Confident. Persuasive. – Bitter. Gluttonous. Dishonest.

played by ori. est. she/her.

[slashbitch2]

Extra Complications

never expected to be crushing on an animated character but here we are

Next Chapter

It was sneaky. Perhaps cheating by some standards. But from your perspective, it was a damn good plan.

Ironically you'd seen the advertisement for the Alchemax internship right after being flung into a wall by the very same woman who'd likely approved the broadcast. Olivia Octavius, or Doc Ock as you ought to refer to her in costume. Though she'd given you little time to read up on 'how to apply', as moments later a car was thrown in your direction, which was very inconsiderate of her, but was also all the persuasion you needed.

At this point, you'd be willing to do anything if it contributed to thwarting her, surely, very evil plan. Of course you admired the woman for her general genius and eccentricity, but the constant unprovoked conflict was becoming tiresome. It felt as if she were trying to determine how much of a threat you posed, whereas, you liked to think your legacy as 'that Spider-Person who sometimes saves the day' was all the evidence necessary.

Honestly, you weren't certain as to what exactly her, no doubt, villainous plan entailed besides patrolling the streets in green swimming goggles and black spandex with ridiculous plastic tubes jutting out of her back. In fact, it was ridiculous that no one had made any attempt to stop her yet. Unlike your identity, kept secret by a more modest spandex suit, hers was public knowledge.

Sometimes, it seemed as though you were the enemy here.

Which is precisely why infiltrating her team of scientists was more than appropriate. You were about to single handily take down an international threat, one hidden in plain sight, but left untouched due to the company's vast money, leverage and prestige.

Someday the city would thank you for your many sacrifices. Specifically for voluntarily working another job without pay. Y/N Y/L/N, broke intern by day, friendly neighbourhood Spider-Person by night.

"Excuse me?" A voice called from the left, your vision of them obstructed by an inconveniently placed potted plant. "Are you the new intern?" The person stepped closer, briefly glancing up at you, then back down at a sheet of paper. "Y/N Y/L/N?" The woman's timid appearance hardly screamed villainous scientist, but then again, looks can be deceiving.

"Yes, that's me." You stood, reaching out to shake her hand.

She sighed in relief, shaking your hand a tad too enthusiastically. "Lovely to meet you. I'm Marie and I'll be getting you settled in for the first few days."

A spark of disappointment flashed across your mind. Olivia hadn't been there for your interview, nor had any sway in your hiring, and now she wasn't even the person greeting you on your first day. Although you had no right to be, you felt rather offended by the lack of challenge she was providing. It was almost too easy.

---

To be fair, Marie was the perfect candidate to give you a tour of the facility. She was kind and patient, but not condescending. She seldom spoke beyond what was required of her, unless you asked something work related, when her lengthy response would affirm her status as an epicure of scientific knowledge. By midday, you'd decided she was someone to befriend, and subsequently accepted her invitation to have lunch together.

You were also hoping that the team would eat lunch as a group, but alas, more disappointment. Instead, you spent the break sitting in an awkward silence with Marie, who seemed to loose basic communication skills when presented with food. In spite of her lack of engagement, you still took the opportunity to try and ascertain information about the project you'd be working on, though each time she expertly diverted the interrogation, or ignored your question entirely.

Who knew working for an evil, secretive corporation would be so boring?

It was a test of patience to be sitting in the same building as Olivia Octavius, while forced to shadow an incredibly kind, but slow eating woman. Realistically, you knew there'd be plenty of time to investigate, though you were reluctant to end the day without any progress. So, while Marie was still distracted by her lunch, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

She dismissively approved with a wave of her hand, allowing you to slip away from the dining hall. You vaguely remembered the location of Olivia's office as being on the top floor, indicated by Marie's imprecise pointing. She'd explained that very few had clearance to get in, but you'd already thought of a way to get passed the security.

Who aside from the highest ranking scientists had access to every room? Janitors, of course. Because, for some reason, cleanliness was more important than security.

It didn't take long to locate a cleaner, or much effort to pickpocket the security card. To be on the safe side, you even had an excuse ready: that the man had dropped it, that you were simply looking for him to return it. And if Olivia caught you in her office, well, she wouldn't (Spider-Senses and all). Again, it was almost too easy.

There was a minatory silence as you walked along the final corridor toward her office. Part of you felt as though this was some kind of elaborate trap, the repeated phrase 'too easy' coming to mind as you reached the door. Though the logical part of you must've known this was a fatuous suggestion, and took control.

With a final pause to confirm nobody was approaching, or was already waiting inside, you scanned the key card. The action was rewarded with a satisfactory beep, followed by the door sliding open so fast it appeared to have vanished.

The office was smaller than you anticipated. Or maybe it was the bareness of the room that caught you off guard. The woman was insane, yet her work area hardly reflected her deranged mental state. Everything was so perfectly neat that you began to wonder if you'd actually walked onto a movie set, or a photoshoot, which would've explained the strange ring lights hanging from the ceiling.

Upon reaching the centre of the room, you were struck by the realisation that you truthfully had no reason to be here. Even if the office had been as messy as you'd expected, it was unlikely that she'd leave her super evil plans lying around. Rather, It'd been some morbid curiosity that had lured you here. To see where The Doc Ock worked, where the alter ego was likely created. The reality was underwhelming to say the least.

Deciding that you'd spent enough time admiring an incredibly bland office, you exited back out into the empty corridor, nonchalantly throwing the security card behind you, certain someone would eventually return it. Then, as if right on cue, you sensed somebody approaching, soon followed by footsteps resonating from around the corner. With no way of avoiding them, you kept your head down with the intention of blending in.

Olivia Octavius rounded the corner, not sparing a glance up. She was frowning at a piece of paper, her full attention directed to it, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Instinctively, your entire body tensed at the sight of her lithe frame and mass of hair spilling out of its messy bun. Any other circumstance and you'd have fled by now, through a vent, out of the window, it didn't matter. Though you had to remind yourself that there was no reason to be afraid now. There was no possible way she could know your identity.

Nonetheless, as you passed her with less than a metre of space, you held your breath. She said nothing and you both kept walking in opposite directions.

It seemed the coast was clear. You released the breath you'd been holding and kept moving until. "Hey, wait a minute."

You froze, aching to ignore her and escape. Her voice was deep, more so than you were prepared for. While fighting, few words were exchanged, and even then they were unintelligible. Although, now was the worst time to be thinking about previous interactions, so with much difficulty, you cleared your mind. As far as anyone knew, including yourself, you were just the intern.

You ran a hand through your hair nervously, straightening out your lab coat and turning to face her. She was stood at the far end of the long white corridor, entirely unthreatening when compared to Doc Ock, who would've loomed over you menacingly.

Remembering the role you were meant to be playing, you choked out a response. "How can I be of assistance?"

"You're the new intern, right?"

"Yeah." You considered approaching to shake her hand, but the idea of awkwardly marching the length of the corridor to greet her was rather unappealing. "That's me." You settled for a polite smile and shoulder shrug instead.

She screwed up her face in consideration before crooking a finger. "Come with me."

Swallowing any concern, you nodded hesitantly. The prospect of returning to the office you'd broken into only moments ago had you dragging your feet.

She waited patiently until you were by her side to continue. "Don't worry." She scanned her key card. "I don't bite." Her tone was playful, her eyes kindly mocking.

"Good to know." You muttered, following her inside. You took a second to look around the room with mock curiosity, feeling her eyes trace your every move. Like a predator, eyeing up its prey, determining your weaknesses. Unlike the encounters with Doc Ock, it was uncertain who had the high ground here. Her gaze was putting you on edge, not dissimilar to how your character of 'the intern' would react.

"So..." She shuffled some papers around on the desk, finding what looked to be your application. "Ms. Y/L/N right?"

You confirmed with a nod, summoning the resolve to amble toward her desk.

"Take a seat." She gestured to the chair opposite, letting you sit before proceeding. "Tell me about yourself, Y/N."

You started to think of an adequate answer, but she interrupted a second later, contradicting her initial inquiry. "Are you okay with me calling you Y/N?" She leant her head on a closed fist, narrowing her eyes.

Although the question sounded considerate, you didn't feel the implied sincerity. Even if you wanted to say no, that didn't feel like a suitable response. "Sure."

Somehow, it felt like she was establishing dominance through the polite act, and combined with being under her scrutinising glare, the performance was working.

"Great." Suddenly, she leant back in her chair, all evidence of the hostile act disappearing instantaneously.

"What'd you want to know?" Mirroring her relaxed posture, you attempted to re-establish some control.

"Oh, anything." A flicker of something passed in her eyes, piqued interest possibly?

You began routinely rattling off some basic facts about yourself, nothing too specific or personal. Facts that would answer any follow up questions she might have, and yet said nothing about you. Surprisingly, she seemed hooked on your every word. The thought crossed your mind that this might be the real interview, that everything else up to this point had been a sham. But you settled on a more unsettling justification. That she was committing everything you said to memory.

Coming to the end of the informative monologue, you decided to take a risk. "Do I get to ask a question?" You raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Inquisitive. I like that." She stated, folding her arms on the desk. "Go ahead."

You decided to see how far you could push your luck. "Tell me about yourself." You smugly repeated her vague first query. It was the Doctor's turn to come up with an answer to the ambiguous demand.

She scoffed, realising your plan to make her struggle. "Touché. But I'm rather busy, so how about you pick a more specific question."

Narrowing it down, there was only one thing you wanted to ask. "Can I see the-" You waved your arms around, imitating tentacles. "the suit?"

She chuckled, slowly standing. Judging from her lack of surprise, this was likely a request she'd heard many times.

First, she removed her glasses. Then slipped out of her lab coat. Next to go was the shirt, which she pulled over her head while maintaining eye contact. You wanted to look away, out of respect, yet you didn't. Without the shirt, you noticed she was already wearing the suit underneath and had the harness strapped to her back, confirming your suspicion that she always had access to the weapon. As she was stepping out of her trousers, the arms (tentacles?) inflated, and within moments were threateningly extending to their full potential.

She smiled proudly, enjoying your stunned expression. "As good as you expected?"

"Better." Unable to resist any longer, you stood to investigate the suit in further detail. You'd never seen it stationary, or had the opportunity to try and gauge the details of how it worked. Although you argued this would be beneficial for your next fight, in reality you just wanted to admire the contraption. You circled round, marvelling at the simplicity of the design. It was convenient, yet elegant. "It's beautiful."

Coming to a stop in front of Olivia, she had an unreadable expression. A mix of emotions, most prominently confusion. To your delight, a faint blush coloured her cheeks. Whatever unspoken game you'd been playing, you were winning, or were until she said. "How'd you like to intern for me?"

You quickly recovered. "I already do."

"No." She sighed. "I mean personally. As my assistant? You'd get your own desk, an almost guaranteed job at the end of it and so much more experience than you'd bargained for." She leant forward, a little too close for comfort. There was an unhinged look in her eyes more reminiscent of Doc Ock that both convinced and deterred you. "So what'd you say?"

She genuinely wanted you to work with her.

This hadn't been part of the plan. You'd expected to spend no longer than a few months working at Alchemax. To uncover their evil scheme, figure out how to stop it and hopefully take down the company. An optimistic plan, sure, but one you'd been assured you'd stick to. Although, the opportunity to work closely with Olivia Octavian, with the Doc Ock, was too good to pass on. Not to mention, infinitely more interesting.

You grinned, embracing the insanity that your answer would incur. "I'd love to."

She clapped her hands together. "Great!" Then offered her hand for you to shake formally. "I'll sort out the paperwork and details this evening, but right now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

She left before you had the chance to say anything else, still in her suit, which left you confused for the following half hour. You finally understood upon catching a glimpse of a news alert on your phone.

Doc Ock Seizes Bank, Has Taken Hostages!

You sighed. Today was going to be a long day, and things were only going to get more complicated.

[whatgaviiformes]

The Personal Trash

Okay, I needed the catharsis of writing this out, but I am throwing it under a read more because I honestly don’t expect anyone to read this. Family shit below

I feel like before I start I have to say first I love my husband very much and am continually excited by the life we are and have been building together, and the only goddamn constant in these circumstances is that he is my best friend always. 

The second part of this before I jump in is that his mother, my mother-in-law lives with us, and there are parts of this story I can’t tell because it’s her story and I am not that kind of person.  One of the things I love about him is his loyalty to family. I am the same way. Living with elders does not make me bat an eyelid - they��ve taken care of us, it feels comforting that we can take care of them.

But I need to share the context of our home - it’s a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom townhouse with the three of us, three dogs, with almost every space shared. One kitchen, one living room. It’s a small place. My husband purchased the house in September 2014, and it was around when we started dating. One of our first outings was his housewarming. It was, and still is, a starter home. 

So since he’s had the home, I’ve been around - starting with a weekends, back and forth, and finally a moved in in 2017, married in 2019, and now we are here. Four years later. 

We’ve talked upsizing, getting an in law place if we can. But the housing market is a sellers market at the moment, and things have been good. For four years. 

For four years, the family unit has been the three of us. We’ve all contributed in different ways, and in that time, MIL has retired, husband has switched jobs a few times, and mine has been constant. And I *adore* my job. But it keeps me incredibly busy, overwhelmed often. Work-life balance is a bit of a joke for sure. Like anywhere there are days that I’ve gotten off work and cried. Or, checked out mentally that I couldn’t engage in other things. It’s can be intense, but its rewarding. And there was a period through the past few years where I was the source of income keeping our heads above water. And we were - we were fine.  But it put a lot of stress on me.

In the meantime there have been some health issues - which I will gloss over. Not my story. But MIL has had few different things, on top of us worrying about COVID. We’ve taken her to some different appointments and such.  

We had one such scare two weekends ago, and it kind was a catalyst to a bunch of other stuff that I’ve been dealing with behind the scenes lately. So on Sunday, husband and I went to the grocery store (she was supposed to go on a trip for four days or so) so we were going to use the opportunity to cook a few things together, and we needed to replenish. We were about to grab lunch, and called to see if she wanted anything, and she told him then she wanted to be taken to the hospital. She told us a few days earlier she was having some problems, but only mentioned to my husband that she was worried this might happen. But to me this forewarning was not mentioned, and I was only told because he advised her that she needed to be upfront of what was going on. (For the record, she still was vague). 

This ^ will be a theme.

So we skipped lunch, came back home, I unloaded the food and started putting stuff away because he and I agreed that’s what we do and I told him to keep me updated, and she left without saying anything to me or vice versa.  Husband comes home because COVID means you can’t stay with anyone. Also no beds, so it took awhile (F*CKING GET VACCINATED PEOPLE SO PEOPLE WHO DO EVERYTHING RIGHT AREN’T LAID UP FOR YOUR STUPIDITY  -alsoyesiknowthereareotherreasonspeopleareinthehospitalforcovidjustgivemethisimfrustrated)

11:30 PM that night we picked her back up. It was late, I was tired.  A few days later she tells us that she had a lot of time to think while at the hospital, and tells us she is going to move out. 

First - you know what we did while she was in the hospital? We freaking worried.  Okay - so all of that is facts, details, and I’ve gotten you caught up to the this-happened-then-this-happened. The rest of this is feelings so buckle the fuck up

Husband  - immediately lashes out because he doesn’t like the reasons (still doesn’t) and I find out that there was a conversation the day before between the two of them I wasn’t a part of  - and he felt because she was not being honest with me, he was forced to have to lie to me, his wife, and didn’t like that feeling. 

Me -  feeling confused, a little like this is out of left field, and only not completely surprised because this has happened before with husband telling me, and then it never happening, we misunderstanding. and more times than not it never made it from her mouth to my ears. Also it was never for *this* reason. See how this escalates more  below.

Husband- “I had to learn to live with strangers, and you just can’t stand not being in control” Me -  so wait I am a stranger now?

Husband - do you even like my wife...

and so on. So apparently everything I thought I knew about our home changed in the course of this conversation. What I was able to get out of the cacophony of chaos is that I am insensitive because I don’t interact with her the way she expects me to? And she feels like she’s intruding all the time, despite us assuring her she’s not, inviting her to game nights, and in general sharing in the things that you do as a family like vacations and dinners.  And the more we argued, the more little things came out and little clues.  She’s mentioned leaving before, almost on a 6 month cycle, and the last time was this one -  

So like... when we got Della, and three days in she was like “If they don’t get along I’m going to take Dino and my own place” and so   like... hold up, you can’t just throw away a comment like that. They’ve barely gotten a chance to know each other. (they are fine by the way. Della is a puppy and gets in his face a bit, but she’s still learning. They play, sleep together fine, and we are constantly taking care of the fur kids).

And from what I get from the comments to leave  - because shit there’s still so many pieces to this I feel like I am missing -she will rationalize other reasons like the dog example above.

So when this happens it sends my husband in a spiral, he tells me because she won’t say anything, and the one time we did try to have a conversation about it, she shut down and made it sounds like he misunderstood and made him out to be the asshole. Then in the same breath tell him its not his job to fix everything as a stab at me, but like continue to talk only to him when it involves everyone.

I don’t know if that makes sense. A lot happens without me involved.

So then  - those clues - the hints that all of this is really about me: 

health - i stopped asking because she stopped telling me things, so how am I supposed to know what she can and can’t do. but im at fault for like... not asking.  but she’s not telling.

home - apparently my understanding and my husbands understanding about the stuff she does around the house  - some cleaning, groceries (we pay for) and loading dishwasher, cooking sometimes,. We thought she liked doing them to help around the house, and she’s never told us differently. EDIT- no, she’s told us she likes to help. Cue - you can stop right there, I am an adult and I never asked you to clean up after me.  

I feel like whatever feelings she has for me started a long time ago, and  she continued to let them harbor instead of talking to me about it, until it got to the point where it couldn’t really be solved.

I mean, I am not lacking the self-awareness to recognize that, yeah, I can be messy, and yeah, I can be single minded. There are days where my husband is talking me and I just space answering him because I can’t or or I just mentally lose it in processing.

I am seeing this mirror reflected back at me of like - I have all these expectations for you, and you are a problem and, but like.... it kind of goes both ways? And I feel like you’ve made these circumstances yourself? And if  you want to leave that’s fine, but its not from our doing? 

And so in the end *I* feel like I am the one under scrutiny for everything I do or say and how I interact in my home. And it feels like selfishness, and self-victimizing behavior that I’ve seen time and time again, and I don’t really see a way out. 

So husband just wants to keep the family together, he’s taking this to heart - its his mom, and there are feelings there about how they’ve provided for each other. He would feel differently if they got the house and she moved in with him under the notion that she was going to save, get her own place. But it wasn’t, and so he has this weight on his shoulders for it, for failing in some way.

And I  - well. I didn’t really realize the family unit we had wasn’t working... at least to that extent and that it stemmed from me and I’m really hurt by it. Aside from the stuff above, I am really easy going - I try to give everyone space, and make everyone happy. I shut down if I am processing something. I’ve never intentionally tried to make her feel unwelcome. I’ve invited her to my family vacations, we’ve all equally enjoyed dinner’s out. 

And though I’d be willing to try to do better, i am absolutely livid that this conversation waited until it was at its worst. So now I don’t really want to try to do better because I am mad and hurt, and don’t feel like my sacrifices or contributions are being acknowledged, nor do I think she will do the same thing to be self-reflective and recognize her own part of all this. And above all things, I truly hate to be misunderstood. And I will completely shut down under that kind of self-victimizing behavior and thoughtlessness to other people. I don’t want to lose myself over this, in my own home.

So neither path is really an easy or right solution. She moves out, husband loses a bit of respect in her and the relationship they have.. She stays, recognizing your own part in lack of communication is a long term thing, and I have to feel this awkward limbo for that whole process.. if it  even gets there.

I feel like I am walking on eggshells constantly. 

I should never have to question if a “Hello” will be taken the right way and that’s how i fucking feel. 

[iceeckos12]

tma fic recs

I’ve seen a couple of fic rec posts floating around. since ive been reading so many excellent fic recently, i thought that id make one as well! please note this list is going to be 99% jonmartin. also buckle up, because this is going to get long.

Completed

the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)

"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus��� carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees

Notes: This is probably my go-to fic if i want an apocalypse never happened scenario. The jonmartin is wonderful, as is the h/c.

Diary and Prenon-nous la main by luftballoons99

Diary summary:

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

Prenon-nous la main summary:

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

Notes: Do you love impeccable safehouse jonmartin characterization? do you love characters grappling with the mortifying ordeal of being known? do you love softness so tender that it makes you want to weep? please read these fic. im begging you.

i’ll tell you about all the times i’ve smiled because of you by cryptidkidprem

Summary:

Martin thinks about their shoes, sitting beside each other on the floor by the bed. Thinks of the way Jon wears Martin’s cardigans more often than he wears his own, the way Martin’s started keeping elastics around his wrist because Jon always forgets his own when they go out.

He thinks about all the gentle touches and fussing over each other they’ve done, and how much is still to come over the next… however long Jon will have him.

They have a long way to go, an entire life to build out of the wreckage Jonah Magnus and Peter Lukas left them, but laying together in a comfortable, sleepy quiet, Martin thinks they’ve got a good start going.

Or, Jon quits the Institute, saves the world, and it turns out to be exactly what he needs in order to heal and start moving forward towards building a life with Martin.

Notes: how many times have i reread this fic? more than i can count. jon quits the institute and it’s just full of soft jonmartins. they get married! god i love them.

go softly by doomcountry

Summary:

And there is nothing else besides this.

Notes: every time i remember this fic i reread it. please heed the tags because martin is blinding jon, but he’s like. blinding jon in the most heartbreaking way possible. idk how the author made this so tender but i know i was certainly crying so!

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by  Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)

Summary:

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Notes: Do you like time travel fixits? i sure like time travel fixits. reverb is an excellent one. heavy on the h/c, I wanted to hug jon so so badly. 

Yesterday is Here by  CirrusGrey

Summary:

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Notes: Yet another time travel fixit! also excellent. the teasing was HYSTERICAL. also Im just going to say this now - CirrusGrey in general writes incredible tma fic. You can’t really go wrong.

unassigned supplementals by  bibliocratic 

Notes: I won’t put in a summary just because it’s a long series of oneshots, but bibliocratic’s writing is amazing. Again, you can’t really go wrong with one of their fic!

let the soft animal of your body by autoclaves

Summary:

Standing in the warm kitchen, slats of sepia light filtering through onto the counter in front of him, Martin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He half expects them to go through the countertop entirely, glossy and solid as it is. He isn’t used to any of it, yet. The safehouse. Jon. Beams of sun pouring into his hands. After being deprived of everything of significance for so long, the longing that crashes over him is almost painful in its tangibility. He wants to laugh, to sob, to scream and hear it echoed back against the neat, square walls of the safehouse.

In the end, he doesn’t do any of these things. He makes eggs instead. He can do that, can’t he? Use his hands for something simple and plain and good.

(Or: In the safehouse after it all, Martin starts cooking.)

Notes: this fic really speaks to me a) because i project on martin like crazy and b) because food is also my love language. this fic is incredibly soft and it’s all about cooking!

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” by shinyopals

Summary:

I hope you find your new role as Head of the Institute as rewarding as captaining the Tundra, wrote Elias Bouchard, to Peter Lukas. There are so many people working there: all with their own interesting lives, and all desiring your attention and support. I'm sure you will relish the challenge it will bring and enjoy every moment spent with the fine men and women of the Institute. In time I'm confident they'll become like a family to you.

The Magnus Institute has a new boss. The Magnus Institute also has a new tech support technician. These two facts are unrelated, except they both happen at the same time.

Meanwhile Jon's woken up from being dead for six months and for once he's trying his best. He just wishes Martin would stop avoiding him and answer his messages...

Notes: if you’re looking for a good laugh, this fic is SO SO SO FUNNY. i was dying. basically the magnus institute being an absolute bureaucratic nightmare.

hello my old heart  by  firebirdsuite

Summary:

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Notes: it’s all about the yearning. and trust me, the yearning in this fic? im just. i sure do love jonmartin, and this is such soft, loving jonmartin it just makes you want to cry

two ships passing by pyrites

Summary:

Gerard Keay is 10 years old the very first time he tries to run away from home, right around the time that Jonathan Sims has just come into possession of his first Leitner.

Or: One dropped stone can change the way the whole ocean moves.

Notes: again, JONGERRY. MY GOODNESS. this fic is beautiful, the writing is absolutely breathtaking and it owns my heart. im so in love with it. the author said you’re going to have emotions about jon and gerry and jongerry and i said OKAY

Terminal Sight by viv_is_spooky

Summary:

Spider silk weaves through the visions of two Seers. Monstrosity is dawning on them both.

Notes: I’d never read a gerryoliver fic before this, but the execution is EXCELLENT and now im sold on the ship forever. This fic has wonderful prose and great characterization and i love it a whole lot.

Incomplete

assistant archivist au by  PitViperOfDoom

Notes: I won’t put a summary since I’m reccing an entire series, but. it is absolutely no secret that i adore jongerry. pit’s assistant archivist au slapped me over the head with some gorgeous jongerry oneshots and then gave me the gift of the main fic (which is still in progress) about head archivist martin. i love this au so so much

dustsceawung by  callmearcturus

Summary:

Martin had always been favored by the summer courts, and moving up north to the little village of Lacuna is a difficult adjustment. It's rainy and lonely and everyone seems to have a strange, distant relationship with the local faerie court.

However: there is a strange man in a cloak who walks past Martin's remote little cottage every few days.

However: there is a moth that keeps getting stuck in Martin's house during the rain.

These events are not as disconnected as they first appear.

Notes: you ever just read a fic that you didn’t know that you needed until after you read it? yeah. featuring the fae and moth jon and excellent characterization.

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

Notes: This is also the moment where I reveal that im a sucker for jongerrymartin. please read this fic. gerry is brought back from the dead in s4 and everyone is far better off for it.

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

Summary:

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Notes: this time travel fixit is shaping up to be an absolutely incredible read. i love the way this author writes jon so so much, and the characterization is spot on. this whole fic just satisfies some little part of me. god. also!! bubonickitten’s writing in general? beautiful. please check out their other works.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea

Jon tries to force the Spiral to send him back, but the Sprial's corridors never twist things quite the way you want them to. Back in 1996, Elias has no idea why or how the Eye made such a powerful Avatar out of an 8 year old, especially when said 8 year old doesn't actually know he has any powers at all. Clearly such a child cannot be left outside the Institute's care. 

Notes: This fic is legitimately brilliant. The author manages to capture the big ADHD mood and the precociousness of baby Jon while managing to write a wonderful storyline. Time travel! Elderly lesbians! A Jonah who is wildly in over his head but was walloped over the head with paternal instinct! Baby Gerry! What more could you possibly ask for?

rooms full of people who do not love each other yet by seaer

Summary:

“Wanted to ask about a book.” The boy has his hand on the counter, and he leans into it, nonchalant. The library is air-conditioned, but by no means frigid, and Jon can’t help but feel sweaty just looking at the layers he’s wearing; what looks like old leather over an olive-green Magnus pullover over his school shirt. “Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Jon says, tetchily, “We’re about to close.”

“I know. Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Notes: I am so in love with this author’s writing style and the way they write the characters!! The jon and gerry friendship is PERFECT and the character interactions are all darling.

if you read these fics please send the authors some love, they definitely deserve it!! 

[ahgastae]

worst chefs in seoul (outline) – kim seokjin x gn!reader

➥ word count: 3.9k | reality/cooking show au | crack | fluff

➥ m.list

➥ a/n: we’re back at it again with another wip i never finished lol. this one is the outline for what was intended to be a social media au (as evidenced by some of the notes i left for myself), though it’s likely that’s not how it actually would’ve come out. i’d love to hear some of your thoughts/reactions, and i hope you enjoy ♡

day ???

start w y/n and yoongi goofing off on twitter

the whole y/n eating a moldy grape thinking it’s a kiwi thing

and yoongi panicking bc of it

could transition into them talking about the finale episode of their favorite show: worst chefs in seoul

they’re both huge fans, and equally complete disasters when it comes to culinary skill

yoongi likes the show bc he likes the competition aspect and tbh he got addicted after y/n forced him to watch the first season w them

y/n also likes it for that reason, but the main reason they watch it is bc of a certain kim seokjin

anyway, they talk about the finale, and then yoongi says something about the next season’s ‘nominations’ coming up soon

y/n jokingly says they’re going to nominate yoongi bc of that one time he made tacos with dog food

and yoongi fires back w the time they managed to light the microwave on fire making cup o’ noodles

they agree to let each other live

…..for now

sike!

the two actually do end up nominating each other w/o the other knowing

y/n honestly just thought it would be funny if yoongi got picked and yoongi was like “fuck it why not”

little did they know…..

while the nomination guidelines assure that the selection process is completely random, this is a reality show

meaning for anyone w a brain that’s obviously not the case

contestants are actually chosen by the show’s assistant producers and approved by the chefs themselves and then the higher ups

but who are those assistant producers??

none other than park jimin and kim taehyung

neither of them keep their involvement with the show a secret, and one takes it a teensy bit more seriously than the other

anyway, they’re usually told to find a batch of contestants (that they feel) would conjure up the most drama for the show

it is tv, after all, and they have to keep people watching

and that part is crucial

to their credit, they do (somewhat) succeed for the most part

jimin selects yoongi and namjoon from the nomination pool bc he thinks joon’s clumsiness w yoongi’s nonchalant nature will work for max chaos

and taehyung chooses y/n and jungkook bc while their competitive drives are similar, y/n’s subdued nature has a big chance for conflict w jk’s out-there attitude

(how do they know all this? they’re experts at what they do leave me alone)

day ??? 2.0

y/n (and yoongi, secretly) is ecstatic when they get the emails/DM/whatever that they’ve been “chosen for the next hot season of worst chefs in seoul!”

but then yoongi asks if it’s allowed for them to know each other and accept the nomination

like they’re best friends. is that going to present some kinda problem that’ll get them both kicked off??

should only one of them accept it?

(he’s immediately ready to sacrifice his own nomination bc he knows how much y/n cares about this stupid show)

y/n says they’re not going to let him do that bc they were both chosen, meaning they both should get to go

but—

“it’s fine!! we can just pretend we don’t know each other when we’re on set!”

and so they’re off

to some undisclosed location in seoul

day 0

jimin and taehyung are the first to greet everyone, collecting all four contestants together for a tour of the dorms

and y/n starts texting yoongi in a panic bc both of their dumbasses forgot that the contestants are separated into teams as soon as they arrive

yoongi prolly says smth like i’m two feet away from you why are you texting me

(y/n reminds him they can’t make it seem like they know each other)

yoongi acts like it’s not that big of a deal

prolly says there’s a good chance they’ll end up on the same team

and if they don’t they can just hang out in the dorms when the cameras are off and away

which is when jimin loudly announces that this season, each team is getting their own dormitory

and that contestants will be required to stay in their dorm while filming the season, except for approved ‘outings’ for the show

he moves on before anyone can ask what that means

they’ll be allowed to pick whichever dorm they want to stay in for the first night, since they want to get the contestants’ reactions on camera when they reveal the teams

but after they’re revealed tomorrow, it’s your dorm and your dorm only

y/n and yoongi automatically gravitate towards each other

they end up together in the ‘new’ dorm, which yoongi grumpily notes is practically bigger than their whole apartment

y/n wonders if they ended up in seokjin’s dorm, and gets excited at the thought of this being a ‘test’ to see which chef’s team they’ll be on

to which yoongi asks what makes this dorm his?

“idk i just...feel his aura in here”

“.......okay, weirdo. i’m gonna go ‘feel his aura’ in the bathroom and take a—”

“yoongi!!”

y/n can either ask what yoongi thinks of the other contestants or they can both pretty much blow them off entirely for the time being

idk which yet

day 1

next morning, the contestants are woken up bright and early by none other than our favorite assistant producers

the wake up call comes in the form of a new group chat between the six of them

along with a link to ‘download’ the calendar for the shooting schedule

(which is really an app/virus that disables certain functions on their phones)

((such as most social media and texting numbers outside their ‘parameters’))

after that’s all hashed out, jm & t explain that this group chat is for any and all notifications and updates about the show, as well as any questions and/or concerns the contestants might have

like

“can i just vote to eliminate myself now and go home?” and

“how do i get this fucking thing off my phone” and

“when do we find out what team we’re on??”

the answers to which are

no

you’ll find out when filming is finished

and right now!

they tell the contestants to get up and get dressed as their first day on set officially starts now

y/n and kook immediately jump into action and leave the gc

joon lags behind a little confused but follows the flow

yoongi, ever the people person, gets aggressive when they don’t answer his questions about their goddamn malware

“is this even legal?? are you even fucking allowed to just disable our devices like this?”

“what if there’s an emergency??”

“looks like you’ll just have to find out, huh?”

yoongi’s phone then crashes and won’t let him unlock it until the first block of filming is finished

jm: “oops ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ”

day 1 recap

we find out through our superfan what happens during the first episode

(maybe do something like this person is some kinda press/‘news’ account dedicated entirely to w.c.i.s. and the two chefs)

((mayhaps they leak the contestant list before it goes public??))

((jimin and tae could have some kinda unspoken rivalry w them lol))

anyway the story is told through them in a series of twitter threads

(plus a few messages from y/n to yoongi freaking out about the teams they get put on)

first event of the day is: the team announcements

yoongi and joon end up on team kim seokjin and y/n is on team jyp w kook

being split up puts a bit of a damper on their plans, and with this stupid cell block they don’t know if they’ll even be allowed to talk to each other

none of them get much time to react, though, as they’re then shuffled off to their respective kitchens

where they finally meet their respective chefs

and, lo and behold, y/n is goddamn terrified

jinyoung is even scarier in person than he is on tv

“don’t laugh at me yoongi!! this is the guy who made a girl sob on live television!”

“and now ur gonna be the next person what’s the problem lmao”

while y/n tries to get past their fear, they’re given their first official task: work together with their new partner to create a meal of their choice

the catch is that they aren’t allowed any help from their chef yet

and since the teams were just announced literally like 10 minutes ago, none of them have had much of a chance to get to know each other

(the network knows this, and does this on purpose since most of the seasons’ first episodes are spent either arguing or being completely lost)

things go about as well (read: badly) as expected

y/n and kook soon discover their very conflicting personalities and spend the majority of the round bickering back and forth about what to make/how to do it

meanwhile yoongi slaps a piece of sliced cheese directly on the stove while joon runs around like a chicken w its head cut off

in the end, team jyp somehow manages to come out victorious

they cobble together some (semi) edible banana milkshakes to present to the judges

(‘together’ meaning y/n wanted to make plain vanilla milkshakes and kook switched it for banana milk when they weren’t looking)

yoongi and joon tried (keyword being tried) to make grilled cheese

but between yoongi’s cheese-to-stove method and joon dropping their two pieces of burnt toast right before the timer rang

they didn’t get many points

as their reward, team jyp has the honor of picking what they’ll be making tomorrow

they’re given the rest of the day to think and talk it over while team ksj is told to reflect on what went wrong in today’s trial

back at the dorms (now in their separate teams), y/n finds that yoongi finally graces them w a response

(and that they were right about which one was ‘seokjin’s’ dorm)

yoongi tells them about ‘that little shit’ locking him out of his phone and that he honestly just wants to get tf out of there contract or not

y/n convinces him to stay and stick it out, if not for them then for the prize money at the end

yoongi then asks what dish they’re going to pick for tomorrow, and asks if they can pick something he at least has an idea how to make

cue y/n saying that they were thinking of suggesting one of seokjin’s signature dishes but not knowing if kook would go along w the idea

“he kept trying to switch out our ingredients for banana milk and i don’t know how to tell him to knock that shit off”

“honestly you know i’m not one to take charge but he wasn’t even listening to me!! what’s to say he’s actually going to listen to the PROFESSIONAL chef here to help us??”

“aNd SPeAkINg oF THaT”

cue y/n whining about how they wanted to be on jin’s team and it’s not fair that they both got stuck w jinyoung AND a bratty kid on their team

yoongi sympathizes since he was looking forward to them being on the same team, but makes y/n agree that if he has to give the competition a chance then they have to give kook one too

“i mean yeah he seems like a bit of a dumbass but isn’t that why we’re all here? bc we have no fuckin clue what to do in the kitchen?”

hmm...fine they’ll give him a chance

but they still think he’s a lil shit and don’t really wanna talk to him at all, let alone reach some kinda compromise on what to make

they don’t get much or a choice, though, as they both receive a mysterious message from...jungkook? in another group chat?

the contestants find that they have all been manually added to another gc

except this one is missing the two assistant producers who love to breathe down their necks

everyone but jk is immediately suspicious

is this some of trick to get them to screw up?

to break some kinda hidden clause in the contract none of them actually read?

wasn’t that thing they downloaded supposed to block incoming messages like this?

“but wait, yoongi, then how were we able to…?”

but as of right now, they don’t get any answers

and they’re all too afraid to ask anyone but each other

“well we’re all here so...we might as well get to know each other right?? :D”

this is where we get our first in-depth look at the four people stuck on this show together, who in their lives nominated them and why

(y/n and yoongi’s lying skills are put to a bit of a test as they each rush to pull stories right out of their asses)

kook talks about bambam and says his nomination said smth about “adding banana milk to everything f*ckin thing he makes”

he doesn’t really get why that was enough to land him a spot on the show but he thought it would be pretty cool to be on tv and just went along with it

namjoon talks about hobi and emphasizes that he’s not that bad of a cook

he just gets nervous and confused when it comes to recipes and cooking which expresses itself in the form of his unabashed clumsiness

joon then asks if they’ll really be prevented from having any outside communication until filming is finished

he, like yoongi, questions the legality of deceitfully installing the block on their phones

y/n says there probably was some kind of hidden clause that allowed them to do that, as they “can’t imagine seokjin would take part in a competition that abuses its contestants”

to which joon replies that they don’t actually know seokjin so they can’t really ‘imagine’ anything about how he will or won’t act

right as yoongi is about to jump in and tell him to back off, jungkook decides that that’s way too much legal talk for him

he forces changes the subject back to the gc as a whole and says that even if they’re prevented from talking to their friends he’s happy they’ll “at least have each other :D”

y/n feels like part of that is directed at them and feels bad for how they thought he was ‘just a dumb kid’ before

namjoon, however, is still hesitant

he’s not sure if this chat could get them in trouble in regards to the show and their contract and what not and says that they all should probably delete it just to be safe

but that is unanimously vetoed by y/n and kook (and yoongi, reluctantly) and they decide that if the block allowed it to pass through then it must be allowed

before joon can argue anymore, they all receive a message from tae in the ‘official’ gc

he briefly explains the lights out policy of the dorms and tells them that they’re probably going to want a good night's sleep for their ‘big day’ tomorrow

yoongi then says smth like “well...guess that’s lights out then” and jk responds excited as ever w “night guys!! see you all in the morning! :)”

and y/n can feel their soul leaving their body for even thinking anything ill about him

day 2

contestants are woken up bright and early by alarms they didn’t set

(“oh great, so they just hijacked every app on our fucking phones then”

jimin tells them all to hurry up, get dressed, and meet the chauffeur outside bc they can’t afford to be late

(“literally! every second you waste is money docked from the network’s wallet! so get your asses in gear, guppies!”)

y/n and kook get outside first, but yoongi and joon are nowhere to be seen

y/n decides to text the q & a gc to get the dirt on seokjin

they kinda start sucking up to jimin and tae to see if they’ll reveal any info, particularly about what the chef is like and if it’s possible for him to talk to the ‘other’ team’s contestants

and while the producers are pleasantly surprised that one of the contestants actually want to use that gc for something other than yelling at them

they unfortunately can’t give much info besides what most people already know

and confirm that one of the chefs talking to the other’s students was probably not allowed, but that it’s also never really happened before so they’re not really sure lmao

(“taehyung!!” “what? was i not supposed to say that?”)

jimin cuts the conversation short there as yoongi and joon arrive and they all get on the shuttle for the set

taehyung does say one last thing tho

“good luck!! hopefully they don’t tear u up too bad!”

but first

our superfan gives us the downlow on the competition and how it works

after being split into teams, the contestants will rotate between ‘training’ w their chef and competing against each other in timed trial rounds

prizes can be won for both events, but the ones for the trial rounds are generally more competition based while the ones for the training rounds are more about luxury/quality of life while filming

each trial round win counts as a point towards the team’s score in the competition

only trial rounds affect this score

once a certain number of points has been reached (5), that team moves into the next phase of the competition

instead of working as a team, they are split up and now have to work against each other to win the favor of their chef

and in the finale, after one last big cookout competition, an individual winner is chosen and crowned a ‘former’ worst chef in seoul

once the contestants arrive on set, the chefs reiterate that today is just a training round

(they all let out a collective sigh of relief)

and it’s a good thing everyone woke up so early bc they’re just in time to learn how to make breakfast!!

“it’s not like we had much of a choice-oof.”

“anyway! team jyp, since you won the pretrial round yesterday, you get to decide what both teams will be learning how to make today. so, y/n, jungkook. think carefully. what do you want for breakfast?”

y/n is about to suggest seokjin’s signature strawberry and cream crepes when jungkook, who is still half asleep, blurts out “omelette”

(also i’ve decided that jackson is the host of the show now and i’m not changing my mind)

and it’s decided. they’re makin’ omelettes

(y/n is only a little bit peeved)

shuffled off to their separate kitchens, y/n is reminded of just how terrified they are of jinyoung

sure, they thought he was scary yesterday when they realized they were on his team, but now he has to actually teach them and they can’t help but think he’s going to make them into an idiot sandwich by the end of the day

as such, they try to keep half-asleep kook in between them and jinyoung at all costs, even if it meant running around the kitchen like a lost puppy

jinyoung, fully aware of how the show portrays him and how fans view him, notices this almost instantaneously

but he unfortunately doesn’t get to pull y/n aside to address it before jungkook starts digging through the fridge for banana milk and almost throws the entire carton of eggs on the floor

professional chef jyp mode: on

and they’re off

it’s a little difficult with y/n dancing around the kitchen anxiously and jungkook’s absolute aversion to being told what to do (as y/n predicted), but jinyoung manages to whip them into shape long enough to (barely) make a ham, cheese, and “green onion? wtf is that?” omelette

team seokjin, however, does not favor as well

yoongi apparently doesn’t know what tf a green onion is either and just throws in whatever green vegetable he can find while jin is struggling to keep namjoon from setting himself on fire

….and it turned out to be celery

that, plus joon somehow managing to burn the omelette to a crisp, costs them the training round

y/n and kook start to celebrate their victory and actually working as a team when jackson informs them that their ‘prize’ is they get to eat what they cooked while the other team gets whatever is left over on the catering table

“i hope you listened to your chef!”

“...jungkook, please tell me you used actual milk in this”

“um…”

back at the dorms, the contestants share their thoughts on their first day of training, as well as their first official day w their chefs

(also include y/n saying something about their banana milk omelettes actually not being half bad)

y/n immediately recalls how much they were terrified of jinyoung, almost cutting their finger off when he glanced over their shoulder when they were slicing the green onions

jk agrees, adding smth about how he didn’t think a scowl could ever be so intimidating

“it reminded me of my mom’s face when she found out i tried to pierce my own ears in the bathroom in middle school!! i was too afraid to push the needle all the way through and walked around with it in my ear all day until one of my teachers finally noticed and sent me to the office!”

...ok jungkook

during all of this, yoongi and joon are both like...wtf

“seokjin was literally nothing but nice to us. even when namjoon almost set his sleeve on fire lmao”

“hyung how did u manage that” “doesn’t matter”

jungkook thinks the difference in the chefs is hilarious, but y/n is only upsetti spaghetti

they go on a bit of a rant about how badly they wanted to be on jin’s team

saying something about how jinyoung is scary and mean and they’re almost positive he can sense their fear or something and probably use it against them while jin’s team would be so much better on the sole fact that they wouldn’t feel like he would turn them into an omelette for getting something wrong

cue jk being all babey asking “you...don’t wanna be on a team with me? :((“

and y/n immediately PANICS and tries to explain that NO, it’s not HIM but yoongi saves their ass by saying that seokjin is just their favorite and that’s all

jungkook feels better, but then namjoon is like “hol up. we all just met. how could you possibly know that?”

insert more y/n fumbling and jk confusion

yoongi (once again) covers w some bullshit story that he was able to just guess that based on what y/n’s said in the gc so far

joon wants to question it further, but jungkook informs them that the lights out call just came in before he can

another yoony/n sigh of relief

in private, y/n freaks out to yoongi for almost blowing their cover to the others

prompting a short conversation over whether they think they can trust them or not

y/n admits that they’re warming up to kook, but is a little suspicious if namjoon will keep their secret yet

convo ends with yoongi saying something like “well, the kid’s right about one thing. at least we know we have each other”

end.

[beforetheflowers]

Poinsettia

SPNAdventCalendar2020 prompt: day 13, poinsettia

Read complete on AO3!

Ok, I’m a little late with this, but here we go. Read the first half below the cut!

Hunters might not get paid for doing their jobs, but it was not uncommon to receive gifts of appreciation. These gifts ranged from invitations to sit down for a home-cooked meal, boxes of snacks and drinks, a good bottle of scotch, gift cards to restaurants… actually, the gifts took the form of food quite often. 

It was curious, this human impulse to show their love by feeding each other. Taking care of each other’s most basic need, giving the blessing of not needing to worry about where the next meal was coming from. 

Though angels did not, as a rule, feel hunger, Castiel understood it intimately. He’d been human quite a few times in the last decade, and he knew the dull ache that could only be filled by sinking his teeth into something delicious.   

Of course, Castiel made a point of breaking heaven’s rules. He never told Dean this, but occasionally he would fly out into a field or forest and let his grace drain into the Earth, depleting his own power so that he could become something close to human. It wasn’t easy to do in winter; someone would probably get suspicious if a grove of trees suddenly sprouted greenery under their blankets of snow, but he made it work. 

Let’s just say that a particular river in Kansas was full of incredibly vigorous fish, and leave it at that.

Draining his power in that way allowed Castiel to experience mortality with Dean. His vessel aged, so subtly that Dean hadn’t even noticed yet, but Cas was determined to grow old with him. They had their eternal youth to look forward to in the afterlife. 

It also allowed him to feel human drives; hunger, thirst, desire, pain. All the risks and rewards of freedom.  

Castiel also felt that taking care of the Earth was a proper angelic duty. He wasn’t interested in being an agent of fate, or a tool in Chuck’s arsenal. But blessing the Earth with life gave him great joy and contentment in his role as an angel. His grace was a gift he could give to wild things. 

So, although Castiel understood humanity’s gift-giving impulse on a personal level, he found it quaint and charming nevertheless. In times of hardship, humans reached out for each other instead of turning away, they gave more generously instead of less. Despite the flaws of their species, Castiel believed they were good at their core. He wasn’t sure he could say the same about angels.

The winter holidays seemed to motivate humans to give more than any other season. Perhaps it was simply the darkness and lack of plant growth in winter that pushed them to share resources, but… they took care of each other.

Cas was, however, sometimes baffled at their choice of gifts. 

One day in late November, he had gone grocery shopping while Dean was at work and had seen rows and rows of tiny replicas of popular fictional characters, stuffed animals in unnatural colors, pink models of kitchens, and even boxes of toys that weren’t assembled yet. How any of these objects helped humans survive winter, Cas didn’t know. 

Musing about the nature of humanity along the ends of the toy aisles, he had walked past a little red creature that started singing at him. He finished his shopping quickly after that. 

Also in November, Cas had received another bewildering gift from a family he had saved from a poltergeist. Dean had been at work again when Cas heard a strange report on the police scanner; officers had responded to a call about a strange man smashing up the neighbor’s house while everyone was out. 

When they had arrived, they found all the doors and windows closed and locked. Inside was indeed smashed up; the dining table was broken down the middle, stuffing was ripped from the couches, glass littered the floor from shattered picture frames and ceramic decorations. There was nobody in the house.

The mom left work right away after the cops notified her, and - Cas perused the subsequent report - she had mentioned instances of paintings falling off the walls, doors slamming, furniture being moved, but nothing close to the destruction of that day. The police had chalked it up to a very clever home invader and told the family to invest in a better security system. 

A security system wouldn’t work against a poltergeist, if indeed that was what the family was dealing with. 

Cas packed a duffle bag with ghost-hunting paraphernalia and teleported to the end of the family’s driveway. The family had been unwilling to trust him at first - apparently, they didn’t appreciate blunt honesty - but when the sun went down and the poltergeist started hurling knives around the kitchen, they welcomed Cas back inside, where he made quick work of the poltergeist. 

As it turned out, they had recently purchased a painting of a sunset from a charity auction. All seemed normal until Cas tore off the paper backing, revealing the signature of the painter; it was not created by some local artist as the family had assumed, but by someone who went down in history as a serial killer. The alizarin crimson was fortified with actual human blood, and the victim had become a restless spirit, tethered to the painting and unable to rest. 

Cas burned the painting and the spirit finally moved on. In their gratitude, the family had insisted he take home the apple pie that had been cooling on the counter and shoved a plant into his hands. Arms full of ghost-hunting equipment and the family’s generous gifts, Cas left, waiting until he reached the cover of shadows before teleporting home. 

The pie was a good gift because it made sense. Food. And a dessert at that, a delectable treat. Dean especially would like it. But the plant?

It had broad red leaves with tiny yellow blooms in the center. The lower leaves were dark green. A poinsettia. 

The Aztecs had cultivated this plant for its usefulness as medication and dye, but surely the family didn’t expect him to use it for those purposes. Of course, Cas knew about its association with Christ. Legend held that an angel encouraged a girl in Mexico to give a gift, no matter how plain, for Christ’s birthday. She gathered a bouquet of roadside weeds, but when she placed them on the altar, they became the blazing red, star-shaped leaves of the poinsettia. 

Cas had no idea which angel had performed that particular miracle, but it sounded on-brand for the heavenly host. Most angels only helped humanity when it served the glory of the Lord. Or maybe Cas was just a cynic. 

Either way, it didn’t explain why the family had given him one. They didn’t know he was an angel, right? The plant symbolized sacrifice, success, happiness, or purity; was it perhaps a wish that he would experience one of these? He’d take success or happiness, but he’d sacrificed far too much already, and he was so far beyond purity that it was almost a joke. 

Dean was already home when Cas, bypassing the struggle of opening the door with his hands full, teleported into the kitchen. 

“Hello, Dean.”

Flinching mightily, Dean nearly flipped the contents of the pan straight onto the floor. He chuckled weakly when he saw who it was. “Jesus Christ, man. Could you try knocking first, or something?”

“My hands were full,” Cas explained, finally setting everything down. He put the pie and the plant on the table and returned the duffle bag back to its place in the basement before returning to Dean. 

The smell that pervaded the house was wonderful; garlic and rosemary under the scent of sizzling steak. Cas’s stomach growled, and he realized he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. It was easy for an angel to lose track of such things, but Dean always took care of him. 

“Have a glass of wine,” Dean said, handing him a cab sauv. He leaned his back against the counter, watching Cas and his cooking at the same time. “Tell me about your day, baby.” 

Cas told him about the poltergeist and the gratitude of the family. “I don’t understand why they gave me this plant,” he ended the story, brushing one soft, red leaf between his fingertips.  

“What do you mean? It’s a poinsettia.” 

“Yes. It’s a holy symbol that often represents the crucifixion in the Western, Christian tradition. Why would they want to remind me of that? It was a horrible event, really. A man died.”    

Dean gave him that look, half exasperation, half amusement, that usually meant Cas had failed to understand some social norm. “People always give each other poinsettias around Christmas. It doesn’t really have any deep symbolic meaning these days, it’s just pretty to look at.”

Well, that was certainly true. It was a vibrant little thing, with plush crimson leaves and yellow center, like it was both reaching out for the sun and reflecting it deep within. Cas could feel the life buzzing inside it, drawing water and nutrients from the soil and exhaling oxygen through its broad leaves. 

It was a good gift, he decided with a little smile. 

But that wasn’t the end of it... 

[oneyanderegirl]

Desire

Genre: One-shot, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Rating: T Sasuhina Month 2020 Theme Day 7 (Desire) 

A/N: I decided to skipped over Day 6. I swear I feel like every time I write, it gets longer and longer lol. Part of my one-shot series for Sasuhina Month 2020. You can read the other parts by going on my profile and clicking the fanfiction tab. They’re not written in a particular order since they are one-shots that are supposed to work as stand-alones, but there are hints here and there about when and where things take place. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Warnings: Mentions of death.  

@sasuhinamonth (in case this doesn’t show up in the tags)

It began on a whim.

Sasuke did not anticipate becoming this involved in her life.  

The woman named Hinata Hyuga was an odd mystery in his eyes.

They had known each other since childhood due to being born from the two biggest clans in Konoha. The Uchihas and Hyugas were famous for their rivalry as well as their prowess. He remembered attending several meetings with his family to socialize and discuss clan issues with the other prominent ones, including their rivals of course.

The adults had called it parties.

He called it boring.

But those days had long been over. The Uchihas had eventually died in cold blood because of the man known as Itachi Uchiha. He was one of the strongest shinobi to have ever lived in this world.

He was also Sasuke’s older brother.

Even that seemed like a far away memory now. Itachi was already dead. Sasuke had finally avenged his clan. Or that was what he had thought before he had found out the real reasoning behind his brother’s actions. The demise of the Uchiha clan was due to Konoha itself; they had been afraid of the Uchiha’s growing influence within the village and afraid of an uprising to overthrow the system in place. They had ordered Itachi to nip it before anything could take place. They had forced Itachi to kill his friends, lover, and even his own flesh and blood.  

Yet despite the horror that his brother was forced to go through, Itachi’s last wish was for Sasuke to continue to protect the very village that had essentially killed the Uchiha.

He never understood why his brother would still want to protect the village after what they had done to their clan. It had left Sasuke with more questions than answers. He could never tell what his brother was thinking. It was something that Sasuke was still trying to figure out. It was why he had decided to leave Konoha to travel in the first place.

He needed time to think.

He needed time to ponder. There were too many things to do, too many things to figure out. He couldn’t stay in the village. He had to leave. He had to in order to find the answers he needed.

So Sasuke travelled.

He travelled wherever the wind blew. Whether it was far or near, he would go. He would explore and learn about the different cultures that existed. He had developed a habit of recording what he saw and what he learned. It had almost become a ritual at this point. Sasuke didn’t mind though, rather he found it calming and fulfilling to do so. It gave him a purpose.

A hawk landed on a rock where Sasuke was currently sitting. The bird ruffled its brown feathers before dropping an envelope in front of him. He reached into his brown bag to grab a piece of dried fish and tossed it to the bird as a reward for a successful delivery. Sasuke watched the hawk squawk in joy as he eagerly devoured the food before looking at the letter he had just delivered to him.

The letter was wrapped neatly in a lavender colored envelope with his name written nicely in the front. There was also a blue paper charm that contained pressed petals from a sunflower taped next on top of the envelope. Sasuke was quite perplexed by the gift as he was not expecting anything from her.  

“ Sora, she’s quite persistent isn’t she?” He asked the hawk.

Of course, the hawk was much too busy enjoying his snack to respond.  

Hinata Hyuga.

She was the heiress to the Hyuga clan, famous for her highly developed Byakugan. Although they had attended the same academy and became shinobi around the same time, the two of them were mostly strangers towards one another. His most prominent memory of her was her famously large crush on his best friend during their genin days. Other than that, Sasuke could not really recall much about the woman other than her heritage.  

Yet for some reason, ever since the War had ended, she had constantly and desperately tried to seek him out.

He remembered that night when he had decided to visit Naruto to catch up about life and his travels, he had spotted her quietly watching them. At first, Sasuke had thought that it was his best friend who she had wanted to see, but then he noticed that she had kept staring at him instead. When he had finally finished talking with Naruto and started to leave, she had tried to follow him.

“ I...know this is a selfish request of mine, but...i-if it’s okay with you...I would like to see you again,” She asked between each breath.

Hinata slowly looked at the man towering before her. His cool expression gave away no emotion. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She wondered if it was a mistake to ask him.

“ What good will that do? We aren’t friends, Hyuga. I have no interest in doing so either. I have my own things that I have to do. If you want to grieve then do so at your own expense. Don’t come to me to do it,”

“ Please...Please, Sasuke-kun,” She whispered.

She begged him.

She begged as tears started falling from her tired eyes.

But Sasuke was already gone.

He quickly buried away the letter and the paper charm into his bag before starting to eat.

Sasuke was not stupid. He knew why she had seeked him out. It was like that when he had been hospitalized as well. She had seeked him over there too.  

“ If you’re going to come in, then just do it already, it’s already late.”  

Sasuke had felt a presence in front of his door. Surprised at who the person was behind the door, he made it known that he could tell she was there. He watched as Hinata slowly came into the room. He could make out the scrapes and bruises that had formed on her body from the War. What stood out the most though were her silvery eyes.  

They held no light within them.

“ I never expected you, of all people, would come and visit.” He said.

His words held no malice nor its usual coldness. Sasuke felt tired after all. The War had just ended only a few days prior, yet his mind was still not at peace. He watched the woman sit on the floor and bury herself into her hands and knees. Perhaps she too was tired.

Tired of war.

Tired of death.

Tired of the corrupt world that existed.  

Tired of living.

It didn’t matter though because in his eyes, Sasuke felt exhausted. He questioned the wish that his brother had left behind. Itachi had suffered due to Konoha, yet it was his dying wish for Sasuke to continue to protect it. Why? He couldn’t understand.

“D-do you think I’m being s-silly right now?” She suddenly asked.

Sasuke didn’t know what to say, so he decided to stare out the window to look at the moon. The moon was shining brightly in the sky, brighter than any of the stars. Yet despite the beauty it held, he could only think of how dull and lifeless the moon looked as it stood alone by itself in the vast darkness.

“ A-ah...Sorry. I know I sound a little strange right now. I apologize for disturbing you. I just had a lot on my mind lately. I’m sure you’ve heard that my...cousin had died.” Hinata tried to explain.

“ I know. I heard.”  

Neji Hyuga.

A Branch member of the Hyuga clan. He was regarded as a prodigy, much like himself, during their academy days. Although he never did get to properly fight him, Sasuke respected the man. Even though he was of a lower class, Neji had worked hard to make himself strong. He was probably the strongest Hyuga of their generation. When Sasuke learned of his death, he felt that it was a shame the Hyuga never received the proper chance to prove himself. “ How do you deal with the pain of losing a loved one?” She finally asked.

Sasuke kept staring out the window for what felt like an eternity before turning to face her. Neji had died protecting the woman he considered a sister in a way similar to how Itachi had tried to protect Sasuke. Though the methods they had taken in doing so were different, ultimately, they both had ended up dying in order to protect their most precious person. Though he could not understand why either of them had decided to make such a sacrifice, Sasuke knew one thing.

“ We move forward. We have to live. We have to strive to protect them. If we can’t protect their physical bodies, then the least we can do is protect their ideals. It doesn’t matter how much you cry or suffer, you have to live anyways. If you don’t, then it just means their deaths were in vain. Don’t waste the life they gave you.”

The words that he had spoken were more for himself than it was for her, but Hinata still looked surprised at his words.  They weren’t words of sympathy or pity. There were no apologies nor were there empty condolences within the words he had spoken. They were truly his own thoughts.

Words that he held in his heart because Sasuke knew that no one else would ever understand him. They would never understand the pain that he had to go through, the pain that he was still going through. The pain of not just losing a loved one, but of losing someone that had loved you more than anyone else in the world. More than their friends, more than their lovers, they had sacrificed their own lives due to the love that the two had held for them. That was how important Sasuke and Hinata were to their older brothers.

Perhaps that was why she had started crying when he had said those words to her.

She had cried and cried until there were no tears left. When the last of her tears were wiped, she had started to leave. She bowed to him before turning towards the door.

Sasuke didn’t know why she had decided to come to him for advice, but he knew that she was going through the same emotions that he had gone through. The grief that Hinata was experiencing was something that he was all too familiar with. For the first time, he felt something other than grief and rage bubble up inside of him. Perhaps the War had worn his heart out, but watching her cry had, in some ways, reminded Sasuke of himself.  

It had reminded him of the loneliness he had felt as he watched his clan members die.

It had reminded him of the helplessness he had felt as he watched his parents be murdered in cold blood. It had reminded him of the pain he had felt as he watched his brother, the last remaining family member, perish into the heavens.

An experience that no one should have to endure alone.  

“ Hyuga,” He finally called out, surprising both Hinata and himself.

The moment her pale grey eyes met his dark ones, Sasuke felt a sense of mutual understanding between them. An unspoken connection that had formed from their shared pain. Sasuke didn’t know why, but he felt the desire to comfort her in that moment. It was irrational of him to do so, it just wasn’t in his nature, yet that was the only conclusion he could come to as he tried to make sense of this unfamiliar feeling forming in his heart.

“ You’re not silly for feeling what you feel. Remember that.”

The only response she gave was a small smile before leaving his room.

Yet it was a smile he would never forget.

It had all begun at that point.  

The night after he had rejected Hinata’s desire to see him again, Sasuke kept thinking back to the hospital. He kept thinking back to the moment they had shared together. Her smile, her tears, her expressions, they kept preoccupying his mind. The emotions he had felt watching her as she reminded Sasuke of himself in his own grief was a strange experience. The desire to comfort her was odd. So out of this desire that he couldn’t get rid of, Sasuke had decided to allow her to write letters to him.

To his surprise, Hinata had graciously accepted.

She would write about once a week to him. Sometimes the envelopes felt very bulky. Other times, it would feel like there was no paper at all. Although Sasuke never wrote back, she still continued to write to him.

He never bothered to read them. When his hawk would fly by to drop the letters, Sasuke would just bury it in his backpack and forget about them. He was much too occupied with his own things to worry about hers. Still, she never stopped writing to him. It soon became a routine for them, she would write to him, he would shove it in his bag and continue on the day. He didn’t mind, she didn’t seem to mind either. So Sasuke left it at that.

But you could only travel alone for so long before the sensation of loneliness sinks in.

-----

One day, after almost a year of travelling alone, almost six months since Hinata had started writing to him, Sasuke suddenly felt a wave of loneliness hit him. It was a starless night with the moon hidden away, Sora had already flown into the forest to rest for the night while Sasuke laid in his sleeping bag trying to sleep. He was only halfway through slumber when he had woken up from a nightmare.

Nightmares were common for the Uchiha. He first started having them after watching his parents die. It was something that Sasuke had learned to get used to over the years.

But it was especially bad tonight.

Knowing he couldn’t sleep any more, Sasuke stared at the vast sky. The forest was eerily silent tonight. Not a sound could be heard. Even the wind itself was still. The darkness felt like a black void waiting to ensnare him. All he could see was a vast abyss of nothingness.

There were no stars.

The moon had disappeared.

There was no light.

It was then that the thought finally hit him.

Sasuke was truly alone.

When was the last time he had talked to Naruto? When was the last time he had a decent conversation with his friend? When was the last time he had seen him in person?

When was the last time Sasuke interacted with someone?

He felt the palms of his hands become sticky with sweat. His heart rate had jumped up significantly from his own panicked thoughts. His throat felt dry. His breathing became shallow as if there was no air left to breathe. He felt his body tremble with fear as if there was a monster hidden somewhere in the forest.

But there was no monster.

There was no one.

He was alone.

Sasuke couldn’t stand it anymore. He felt the need to leave. He had to leave. He had to do something, anything, to get this chilling feeling out of his mind. Grabbing his bag, he quickly opened it to get a drink of water to quench his thirst.

However, when he looked inside, he stopped.

Letters.

He had forgotten about the letters.

All his previous thoughts had vanished when he saw the piles of letters inside his bag. All of his attention had shifted to the letters Hinata had written to him. He had never bothered to read a single one. He was not interested.

But now, perhaps due to the discomfort and panic that he was feeling, Sasuke slowly reached into his bag for one. He chose one of the lavender envelopes with his name neatly on it. His fingers gently brushed against the surface, feeling each delicate stroke she had written so elegantly to ensure that he knew it was addressed for him.

Then he slowly opened it, careful not to rip off a part of the letter.

And he began reading.

He never realized how much she had written to him.

Some of the letters were as long as five pages, others were as short as one paragraph, but within each letter, Sasuke could tell that everything Hinata had written came genuinely from her heart. She wrote to him about various things. From trivial things, such as what she had for lunch that day, to much deeper topics such as the regrets she had felt after her cousin had died, she wrote about them all.

Sasuke faithfully read through each one, making sure not a word was missed. He wasn’t sure why Hinata had written so much, but he found her words comforting in a way. It felt as if he was getting to know her little by little through each letter. Before he knew it, the panic he had experienced earlier had already dissipated along with the isolation that he had felt. The only thing left over was a sense of tranquility. A new profound peace that he hadn’t experienced in a long time.  

Perhaps the reason why he had helped her that night in the hospital and why he had decided to let her write to him wasn’t because he had wanted to comfort her. Rather, it may have been because deep within his heart, he knew that the one who had wanted to be comforted was himself.

After reading about half the letters, Sasuke finally felt exhaustion hit him. He decided he would finish reading them in the morning, so he neatly placed each one back into his bag before laying back down in his sleeping bag. The moment he laid down, he felt sleepy. A tiredness that felt relaxing rather than full of distress. And as Sasuke finally fell asleep, a new unfamiliar emotion started to grow in his heart.  

It was desire.

A desire to see Hinata again.

[skyrim-said-that]

Lyrvekkas interactions with the Daedric Princes

(any princes not mentioned are known to her, but no interaction due to their lack of interaction in Skyrim. also all of this was written with a very small amount of research, mostly just me reading the wikis for each quest to remember how they go.)

Vaermina: Lyrvekka wanted to help Erandur, as he seemed kind and she had nothing but respect for priests of Mara. She also wanted to help the people of Dawnstar, since she takes her duty as Thane seriously. She certainly didn’t appreciate the frost trolls, or the hallucinations, or the fact that Erandur was not honest with her in the first place. Despite all this, she chooses to help Erandur destroy the skull, and ends up befriending him.

Azura: Lyrvekka retrieved the star and returned it to Azura, this was also an excuse to go see the beautiful statue up close. She defeated the man defiling it from within and was rewarded the lesser star for helping Azura. She has a small shrine to Azura near her home for good faith, and the star remains in the middle of it. 

Boethiah: She does not sacrifice anyone to him, therefore he rejects her as his hero. She is somewhat indifferent, she holds a small amount of respect for him as a daedric prince, but since he is the Prince of deceit, conspiracy, treachery, and sedition, she avoids him and his followers. 

Clavicus vile: She returns Barbas, and then retrieves the axe for him. She does not kill Barbas, and is rewarded the Masque of Clavicus Vile. She enjoyed helping Clavicus and Barbas, and told them as much. The Masque is hung in her home. Clavicus is one of the Daedra who she has a shrine to near her home, and one of the three Daedric princes who has repeatedly spoken to her outside of canon Skyrim quests. 

Hermaeus Mora: She works with Septimus and retrieves the Elder scroll as the main game goes. She does use the essence extractor, but she only extracts blood from those who attack her first. Mindless killing is not her thing. The quest continues as expected, and she gets the Oghma Infinium. However, the book and the death of Septimus make her unwilling to hold onto it. She discusses it with the greybeards who tell her she can't pass it off or destroy it, so it is hidden in the cellar of her home as not to get anyone else hurt.

Hircine: Lyrvekkas encounters with hircine and Lycanthropy are rare. She learns of the companions affliction early on, and chooses not to get too close to that. She does, however, do a lot of research on other Daedra, and when the ones who actually speak to her are feeling kind(usually Clavicus, Sanguine, or Sheogorath), they give her information on him (or anything else)

Malacath: Lyrvekka is eager to help the Largashbur stronghold and does so as the canon quest goes. Agreeing to kill the giant for their chief seemed like a good idea, but the way things turned out made her really sad. While she understands that Orismer traditions are sacred and Malacaths word is final, she can’t help but feel disappointed. Needless to say, she respects Malacath but doesn’t use the Warhammer. 

Mehrunes Dagon: Lyrvekka collected all the pieces of the dagger, eager to help Silus in the preservation of Daedric artifacts, and refuses to kill Silus when commanded. Unfortunately, he died at the hand of one of the dremora. She put the dagger back in the museum and arranges for someone to take over with her power as Thane of Dawnstar. 

Mephala: Lyrvekka doesn’t love Jarl Balgruuf’s kids, but what she heard about Nelkir worried her and she would never want to see him or his siblings hurt so she investigates. She gets as far as “borrowing” the key from Farengar and speaking to Mephala. She receives the Ebony blade but once she learns how it works she never uses it. But she can appreciate a beautiful dagger and certainly can’t leave the weapon to the kids. So it is in a case in her home. 

Meridia: Lyrvekka touched the beacon. She had been wanting to see the beautiful shrine up close anyways, so she returned it to Meridia. She makes her way through the Dungeon, figures out the puzzle, defeats the necromancer and gets Dawnbreaker as well as Meridia’s Blessing. She does not have a shrine to Meridia, but has a healthy respect for her as a Daedric Prince.

Molag Bal: Lyrvekka already knew basic information about the Daedric princes before she met each of them, so before she even met Molag Bal she hated him. The moment she realizes its Molag Bal speaking to her, she knew she wouldn’t be following through on his words. She left and did not follow his instruction. He would find a new champion to do his deed.

Namira: Lyrvekka helped investigate what was happening to the dead in Markarth. When she discovered Eola and what she was doing she killed the cannibal woman. After all the bodies she had desecrated, she knew that would be the only way to end it. She received the Amulet of Arkay, she does not interact with any of Namiras followers ever again. 

Peryite: Lyrvekka got as far as meeting Kesh, but declined his offer to speak to Peryite through whatever crazy incense he was making. This decision was mostly based on what she knew of Peryite, she didn’t want to get the sickness that the Afflicted had. 

Sanguine: Lyrvekka started the drinking contest with Sam Guevenne because he claimed to have heard a rumour that she was boring and didn’t know how to have fun. Due to the time spent living away from society and the words she heard when she would interact with others, his words hit a bit of a weak spot. Also, she was pretty sure that her Dragonborn blood would keep her from getting absolutely wasted, but she did not account for whatever daedric liquor Sanguine served her. Needless to say, the quest went on as usual once she woke up in the temple of Dibella. She feels especially guilty about how things went down with Moira the Hagraven. Once she finally got into Misty Grove she wasn’t even mad Sam Guivine, she was just hoping he would fill in the gaps of what had happened. She ends up staying in Misty Grove with Sanguine for a meal, under the promise that the food would get rid of 3-day hangover she still had. She wasn’t even that mad about the whole prank, she mostly blamed herself for being so naive as to fall for it. So after having a feast with Sanguine and accepting the sanguine rose, he become one of her favourite Daedric princes. She has a shrine to him near her home as well, and the sanguine rose is on a rack above her bed. 

 Sheogorath: Lyrvekka was mostly trying to help Dervenin, the poor man seemed lost without his master. She took the man to the Winking Skeever and bought him a meal and a drink, and then went to the castle. She went through the motions and got the key from the maid, and eventually ended up in Pelagius' mind. After a long conversation with the mad Daedra, she took the Wabbajack and completed each challenge. Sheogorath gives her the Wabbajack for good and sends her back to the castle. She finds the Wabbajack to be far too unstable and unpredictable, and so the staff remains on a rack in her home. Unfortunately, Sheogorath is the third of the Daedra that speaks to her outside of quests. She doesn’t like him that much but would never let him know. She does not have a shrine to him. 

[silenceinthenull]

Witchery (part 1?)

It started with a package. It didn't have a return address and really just showed up one day on his doorstep. At first he was hesitant to open it, but Joshua got curious and started using his puppy dog eyes and he couldn't resist. He carefully cut open the box to find what looked like an old book. Joshua, being disappointed it wasn't anything more exciting, went back to his toys as if it had never been there in this first place. He would chuckle then at his son's short attention span (something he recognized that the boy got from him) and looked the book over.

It was old. So old it was probably entirely hand written. He had never been very good at reading other people's handwriting but he was curious. He opened the book to find the phrase "may ye not use the wisdoms in this tome for misdeeds or mischief, lest ye fall prey to the folly of man."

He was very intrigued and started reading. It appeared to be a witch's spell book? He thought the spells and stories within were intriguing. He'd never seen an ancient writer use this style, but then again, he didn't study history or literature.

He found the spells and potions so intriguing he finished the book in a day, and read it over and over during the next couple weeks. By the next month he had the book memorized and was genuinely curious about witches and witchcraft, wanting to know more about what they were supposedly able to do. He looked online for more books and spells, finding very little, but he didn't mind, he had fun learning.

The first time he tried one of the spells it was a minor luck spell. It was easy to do really. All he had to do was "bathe an object of good fortune in the light of the full moon and water holding crystals of quartz." He didn't notice much after trying it until his son came home one day with a small, weak, feeble black kitten. Gordon rushed it to the vet just in time to save the poor thing. The vet constantly reaffirmed that he was very lucky that he got the kitten the help it needed when he did.

In the end Joshua named the poor thing "lucky" and Gordon couldn't bare to part from the sweet thing. Lucky went everywhere with Gordon, playing with him happily and watching over Joshua in the night. She was an excellent companion and a dear friend by the time Gordon tried another spell. This time it had been just for fun. A spell to bring about a harvest moon. Gordon "grind the bones of a creature lost to nature's cycle and spread them on the earth on the night of a new moon." Lucky was kind enough to provide several small rodents for grinding so Gordon preformed it, thinking it wouldn't work, but it would fertilize his garden at least so he figured it wouldn't hurt anyone. The next full moon was in fact a harvest moon and Gordon realized what happened.

Being ever the man of science he couldn't accept it for the pattern it was without a third instance, so he thought back to the book for a spell he could use to get immediate results... he thought of one...

He gathered the supplies the next day and on the second night of the harvest moon he performs the ritual. He makes a circle with chalk and candle wax, surrounding the entire thing in salt just to be safe, he carefully lit the pure white candles and laid out the black quartz in the proper position before backing up and quietly whispering his call.

He didn't expect a response. He didn't expect anything, but he heard it regardless and it terrified him.

"... huh?"

Gordon looked up at the man(?) Before him in shock.

"Bro, why'd you summon me? I was taking a nice nap between gaming sessions... had to wake a bro up..."

The part that confused him the most was his outfit. It was a security guard's outfit. He expected something more... animalistic... when he decided to "summon a guardian."...

The man was unaffected by the salt as he walked right up to Gordon and looked him in the eyes.

"Got a passport?"

"... what?"

"Passport. Do you have a passport."

"Uh... yeah... inside..."

The man turns and abruptly heads for the house and Gordon runs over to stop him, not wanting this stranger near his son. They argue for a moment before the man agrees to wait outside for the passport. When Gordon goes and brings it back to him he only gives it a quick glance before passing it back and disappearing entirely... well that was strange.

After figuring out magic was real, and that he could reliably use it, Gordon took to practicing in small ways during the day, drawing magic circles in notebooks, quietly mumbling incantations and mixing weak potions, though he never tested them on himself, only ever on plants. (they were either good fertilizers or herbicides. There is no in between... poor poor cactus...) he never did any of this together unless he was trying to do something specific.

One day, as Gordon was cleaning and cooking and tending to his new herb garden before his son got home he decided it was becoming too much. He started thinking of an incantation to summon a "helper" as he made his son an after daycare snack and without even thinking started mumbling, making the necessary circle absentmindedly with his son's food. Unlike summoning the man before this was very flashy, with sudden winds whipping away some of his son's chips and the loud snap of sharp jaws slamming down on them in a flash of light. Gordon stared at the massive dog in front of him as it snatched up his son's lunch and licked the plate (and his fingers) clean... oh right. The spell to summon a helper involved a sacrifice of food, a simple circle and a soothingly quiet incantation... he really should look back through the book next time.

"Uh... hi..."

The dog stared for a moment before barking and wagging its tail happily.

"Are you the helper big guy? I just needed some help around the house..."

The dog perks up and quickly gets to work moving furniture and sweeping the floors with it's big fluffy tail. Gordon is shocked it understood him, but not complaining as he makes his son, and the new friend, some more food. The dog works quickly and Gordon is Surprisingly pleased with the results. It straightened everything, dusted and swept all on it's own and Gordon happily pampered it with pets and some extra deli meat with it's delicious rewards.

Just as Gordon was about to head out the dog's ears perked up and it ran out back barking loudly. Gordon, worried for the creature followed it out, shocked and terrified when he saw the fucking hell portal in his back yard! He rushed over to the dog and grabbed it's collar before it could jump in, only to be dragged in as well. Gordon closed his eyes as the passing scenery made his head spin and his stomach churn.

Suddenly, the dog was gone and Gordon felt himself falling. He tried to open his eyes only for his incomprehensible surroundings to make him nearly vomit. He slammed his eyes tight just before he felt something grab the back of his shirt and pull.

"You're not supposed to be here bro. Don't got the right clearance."

He couldn't bare to open his eyes again, but he knew he recognized that voice from somewhere. He felt something dragging him for a moment before he was gentle set down in some grass and his eyes shot open just in time to see the hell portal closing in front of him...

What the fuck just happened... he had no Time to think about it as his alarm to go get Joshua went off and he rushed inside to get his keys.

[ftpthemovement]

You are loved beyond your wildest dreams. The sacrifice that Christ made on the cross was to set you free from a life of guilt, shame, condemnation, and judgment. He came so that you would live a life of abundance, free from fear and the ways of wicked men. He came to set the example of the life you should live that is pleasing and honorable to God.

Men make the choice daily, second by second, of who they choose and what they represent. Every-time we open our mouth we are wielding one of the most powerful weapons we have accessible to us. Our words have the ability to shape the world as we know it. They can control masses of people, countries, armies, animals, etc. It is such a powerful force, it can sway the hearts of even the most resentful men.

Scripture says that men desire unfailing love. That means at our root core, every one of us long to be loved free from judgment, free from guilt, and free from the condemnation of sin and the fear of death. Christ came and set the example of what that looks like by laying his life down for us. In doing so, he gave the commandment to love one another, that the world would know his followers by how they loved one another.

If our words and our actions are seasoned with grace and focused on love, we produce a harvest that leads to righteousness. When we allow ourselves to operate outside of those key disciplines set by Christ, we are operating in the realm of the flesh. The flesh is not pleasing to God, because it is rebellious to his will. He came so that we would live operating in the spirit, and put to death the deeds of the flesh.

Once the spirit of God is in you, the flesh and the spirit are at war with one another. The spirit is the deposit guarantee that you have eternal life, and an inheritance set aside for you in the life to come. The flesh however is a constant reminder of death. It is always trying to get you to trade your hope in the victory to come, for the short term temporary satisfaction that the world has to offer.

Another major struggle you will find when denying yourself daily and picking up your cross is the shortcomings you experience in your own hometown, and among your own family. Scripture says, that a prophet won’t receive a prophet's reward in his own hometown, or in his own family. For many, this is where they drop the ball. They like to apply all that scripture has to offer in accordance with their faith, but here’s where most decide to stay, trading away the hard scripture for an easy excuse.

But not me, I’m going to address these hard scriptures. Because unlike most who shy away from the truth and try to sell you a watered-down version of scripture that fits their comfort zone, I’m gonna give you the real.

The Bible says “everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life.” Matthew 19:30

Where in scripture have you heard of a return on your investment like that other than the tithe? Ever wonder why the reward is so great? I believe it’s because he knows that’s where all of the excuses start to flood in. Men always use the ways of the world that seem right to a man but ultimately lead to death. They say they can’t because of their family, wives, children’s, jobs, circumstances. Forgetting that Christ says, "If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters--yes, even their own life--such a person cannot be my disciple.

Most like to leave that part out of their daily remembrance. Through some do understand the accuracy of the translation to mean, “love less than,” they still choose to avoid the truth by setting up excuses using scripture such as

“Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” 1 Timothy 5:8

They cling to this verse for the safety of the security found in their excuse. But what does scripture say about the work that God requires?

“Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For on him God the Father has placed his seal of approval.” Then they asked him, “What must we do to do the works God requires?” Jesus answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.””‭‭John‬ ‭6:27-29‬ ‭

So if the work God requires is to believe in the one he sent, then we are to believe in Jesus Christ and his finished works. Yet scripture says, “whoever claims to live in him must live as Jesus did.” (1 John 2:6) So how did Christ live?

We can see in scripture that John The Baptist clearly knew what to expect from how the messiah would live. So he sent his servants to question Jesus, so Christ told them to report to him this, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.”

If we are to live how he lived, Is this the work you are doing in your life? Is this the job you are dedicated to? Let’s look a little further into the scriptures to see the work Jesus has called us to do:

“Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matt 28:19-20

“He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. And these signs will accompany those who believe: In my name, they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well.”” Mark‬ ‭16:15-18‬ ‭

Is this the work you are dedicated to on a daily basis and do these signs accompany you in your daily walk with Christ? I know it’s easy to avoid the tough truths of scripture. It’s even easier to want to go do what you want to do and trade the truth for a lie. But, in the end, these are the words of God, the very same God that told us to calculate the cost of what it meant to follow him.

Yet, you still have so many who refuse to answer the call, especially those who use providing for their family as a scapegoat. Even though there is more than enough scripture provided above to convict them to repent, maybe it’s best to include this one as well.

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:26-34‬ ‭

Isn’t it wild what happens when you read scripture in proper context, and not through a filter of comfort!? I’ve found that scripture without a doubt, never leaves room for an excuse. Why? Because God predestined you to be adopted into sonship to complete the works he had prepared for you before he laid the foundation of the earth. So when we choose him, we operate in his will, but when we choose the flesh, we operate in the will of the enemy. God doesn’t leave room for excuses, he gave his son so you wouldn’t have any. Instead, that you would come to the understanding that a life of discipline and obedience through the Holy Spirit, leads to a fulfilling life of love, grace, mercy, and peace for eternity.

Sin ultimately created the separation between us and God, but Jesus bridged the gap so that we have access to the father for all of eternity. He didn’t lay his life down so that we would eventually go to heaven. No, he laid his life down to free us from the power of sin and death, to walk as his living representatives here on earth. He commissioned us through the power of the Holy Spirit to finish the mission most call “The Great Commission.” To walk as living representatives of love through action and truth. Spreading the good news of the gospel to all creation, baptizing them in the name of the Father, The Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Are you willing to face the hard truths of scripture? Are you willing to walk like him and not just talk like you know him? What are you willing to give up to complete the mission? Are you willing to deny yourself daily and pick up your cross, or are you going to keep saying you have faith, but your actions don’t follow the way of truth?

Selfish or selfless? Pick up your cross and deny yourself daily, or say you believe and not walk as he walks? Trade the hard scriptures for a bubble gum gospel that fulfills your carnal desires, or stand in front of God and hear, “Well done my good and faithful servant?” -ES

[padalickingood]

-NEED HELP MOVING OUT-

Hi everyone! This one’s gonna be a long one but I hope I can implore you all to take a quick minute of your time to read this and hopefully share it with others TvT. I’ve really been taking my time procrastinating from writing this because I never liked talking much about my own personal situation and dumping that on people, but I’ve unfortunately reached a point where I'm a bit desperate for any kind of help If I am going to try and make this happen.  

Recently I’ve started a serious goal of saving up enough money in order to move out by early next summer. I have attempted to make plans to move from my family home many times in the past couple of years and unfortunately have never managed to get anywhere near to achieving that goal due to my financial situation. Things have gotten increasingly stressful and emotionally exhausting in my current situation and I’ve officially hit that point where I’m willing to ask for assistance online.  

As a freelance artist, even with my Etsy, Patreon, ko-fi, and commission work combined I barely manage to make enough for basic living essentials which doesn’t include any sort of insurance or homeowner/apt owner expenses. Currently I do my very best to pay for as much as I can on my own and even so I still require support from my parents by them allowing me to live with them and them providing internet etc. What I pay for out of pocket is limited to things I need personally such as food, clothes, basic living supplies, art/store supplies etc. I’ve also recently limited myself from buying anything that is not completely necessary for essential living like eating out, movies, buying gifts over a certain price limit for friends, as well as canceling any travel plans from here on out. 

At this point I feel like It’s important for me to explain why I am a freelance artist as opposed to having any other type of job that could potentially be easier and pay better. This may be a bit of a tl;dr but I feel like it should at least be mentioned because the impact it’s had. Several years ago (I wanna say 2013 ish?) I dropped out of my community college because of essentially having a breakdown. The entire experience had left such a negative impact on me that my mood had very noticeably 180’d from high school to 2nd year of college. It was probably the closest I've come to being any level of depressed, which is not a word I throw around lightly as it’s something I don’t think I've felt anywhere near the level of those who struggle with it. Overall those years were so incredibly demoralizing and difficult for me that I made the tough decision of leaving school, something I had never even considered doing in my past (I never even skipped class in high school up until last day of senior year lol). Deciding to leave when I did though was probably the right decision because to this day, I still feel the lasting negative effects those years had on me. After I left school, I picked up a retail job and worked there for about a year and half. It wasn’t something I was really eager to do but was necessary as I wasn’t going to school anymore. With no degree though a minimum wage job was my only real option. Unfortunately, my experiences working weren’t all that positive either (as something I'm sure many of you also experience). I struggled to maintain motivation and continued to feel incredibly negative. It got so bad that it effected my relationships with family and friends as it kept me in a very antisocial mood. I ended up quitting that job shortly after and decided to try and go full freelance. Ever Since then I've worked on building up my store, commissions and anything else I could to try and make money from my art. To this day I still struggle with building up my online presence to the point where I can make a living off of it, but one thing that drastically changed for the better was my mood. My mental health has always been an absolute priority for me and I make a conscious effort to never force myself into anything that I know will have a negative impact on my health, which is why I dropped out of college and quit that job. I knew that if I stayed there it would have absolutely gotten so bad that It would have left much deeper scars than it has. And Although working in Freelance is no easy task and comes with its own degrees of stress, I find it far more rewarding and worth managing that stress. 

But as a result of those years I’ve been afraid of going back to either school or a minimum wage job. I know if I return to a job like that it will pull me back into a mental space that I'm just not willing to sacrifice myself to, and as far as College goes, I simply can’t afford it. However, with deciding to become a freelance artist I've dedicated my time to trying to build myself back up with my art and create a presence online where I can simultaneously do what I know makes me happy while also earning a living off of it. My progress has been slow and over the years I've felt like I've hit a standstill which brings me to my overall goal of wanting to move out. As I mentioned before I had been making attempts to move since around the time I worked in retail. Things haven’t panned out since then as I am still struggling to try and build up my store/Patreon/overall customer basis online. Unfortunately, also within these past few years tensions have been at a pretty constant high in my household because of it. There’s an added weight of still being so reliant on my parents after all these years and it being used against me, that the stress I’ve accumulated from it has kept me from being as productive as I would like. Recently with some current events I’ve just about hit a breaking point and am willing to do anything I can in order to save up so I can officially move out. I’m incredibly tired emotionally from still being here and I’ve started to take serious steps to making this move happen. Luckily I’ve been able to find a friend I can move out with so I won’t be paying rent on my own and I’ve calculated how much I could potentially make a month if I stick to a packed workload schedule. It’s not ideal but I’ve committed to this freelance work and I’m willing to work as hard as I can to reach my goal, and if all goes well then by this time next year i’ll be able to move out.

In writing this I hope that I can ask for support in helping me raise enough so I can try and move out of an unhealthy situation into hopefully something better.  

And to be clear I'm not doing a kickstarter or gofund me. That’s just simply not something this warrants. I know have options and I know that all I need to do is to work much much harder than someone with a 9to5 in order to earn what I need. The only reason I decided to write this out is to share WHY your support is so incredibly important to me and why sharing my work to anyone you can is very essential to my livelihood. Right now, I am very far away from earning nearly enough on a monthly basis in order to move out within a year, but I'm hoping that can change for the better. I simply ask for those who support my work to continue to do so and for those who haven’t and are absolutely financially able to consider supporting my work and share it with anyone you know. Whether it’s commissions, store merch, Patreon rewards, ko-fi etc. Every tiny bit helps me so much!  

---------------------------- 

Here are the ways you can support me!

✪ Patreon: With the cheapest tier being 2$ a month you guys can get early access to all of my artwork a month in advance as well as other bonus content at the 2$ and above tier that is exclusive to patrons only. I have details about my rewards and goals on my Patreon that you don’t have to pay to view! Simply visit my homepage and browse through the rewards and bio to see if it interests you! 

✪ Ko-fi: I recently added a moving goal fund there which will show its progress with each kofi donation! The goal is ambitions and I don’t really expect to reach it but I wanted to just aim high and try and earn as much as I can. Also, I do sketch commissions there occasionally and may do other types of small commissions. So, if you’d like to support me while also getting something for yourself keep an eye out for my announcements on my twitter! 

✪ Commissions/adoptables: I’m going to officially be opening up my commissions soon but before that I wanted to try my hand at selling some adoptables! I’ll have more information about them after I finish up my current batch of commissions but I'm going to try and stick to those for now with some small YCH commissions sprinkled in between. After those though I’ll be opening up regular commissions again ^^ 

✪ Etsy:  I’m actually not sure If I'm going to keep my store up for much longer since I get charged a fee on each listing but before it closes you could help support me by buying merch from my store! 

-------------------------- 

And lastly, I want to thank everyone who took the time to read through this and for those who follow me/support me in any way that you can. Even your reblogs/retweets on my work mean so much to me and help me so much I could never fully express how much I’m thankful to have such an amazing and lovely following of people <3 Thank you for your time

[bluesat12]

Gene Kerrigan, writing in the Sunday Indo ...

Countdown to a Christmas like no other

LOOKING forward to Christmas? Any plans yet? Next Saturday it’ll be a year since Brown Thomas opened its 2019 Christmas Shop.

A little over two months from now, working on the 2019 schedule, there’ll be selection boxes in the supermarkets and the first Christmas adverts will be popping up on TV.

Of course, the schedule we’re working off these days is a world away from that long-ago 2019.

Three midlands counties — 400,000 people — are suddenly back under lockdown. A week ago, such a twist never entered their minds.

Who knows what next week, or next month — much less next December — has in store for any of us, or all of us?

Our success or failure in dealing with this bloody virus will be decided to a great extent by the type of Ireland we’ve made.

Or, to be more accurate, the type of Ireland we’ve allowed others to make for us.

Don’t know about you, but I’ve stopped saying, “When this is over, I’m going to...”

I’m not confident Covid-19 will be beaten in my lifetime, though I’m still hopeful.

You can feel the mood in the country: tired of it, pissed off at it, we’ve done the virus thing, now let’s move on.

There’s an irritation at the Government and at Nphet, for imposing restrictions that put our lives on hold, that lock down the economy and perhaps do damage to our children.

We speak as though Nphet imposes a form of penance. And we did our penance. We flattened the curve, we followed the rules, we washed our hands, we stayed indoors. When we came outside we wore the mask, we stood apart from each other, we made dreadful sacrifices — funerals and weddings foregone, hugs and kisses denied, friends unseen, no cinema, no sports, no theatre, no shopping trips, no holidays, no restaurant meals, no pints.

Some are edging towards a wild solution: let it rip, the cure is worse than the disease, they say.

However, polls have consistently shown that the resilience of most of the people is greater than the resilience of the politicians or the pundits — whose impatience threatens us.

The virus has killed over 2,300 on the island, over 720,000 globally. Unless tamed, it has the potential to take thousands more of us. Countless numbers of those who survived it, with organs ravaged by the virus, will suffer the effects for years.

Here’s the truth about Nphet...

They’re a bunch of nerds, some of whom have devoted their lives to studying things too small to see. They know how to gather data, where to get it, how to read it, what to make of it. They’ve access to whole libraries of information on the virus — and it’s still mostly a mystery.

They’re aware that the decisions they make can damage us, the wrong decision may kill us.

It can’t be fun being them, they’re not impulsive people, they probably go to sleep thinking about this bloody thing and wake up the same way.

They are making evidence-based calls, on closely analysed data. They may get things spot on, they may make mistakes.

More then anything else, their efforts will be affected by the realities of the country they’ve been given the job of protecting.

You may already have seen the video.

Three months ago in the Dáil, Paul Murphy TD questioned the Agriculture Minister Michael Creed about the meat factories, saying all was not well and the State should intervene.

Murphy raised this more than once. Creed replied to Murphy with the selfimportance of a senior Fine Gael minister, son of another Fine Gael minister, 30 years at the top, facing down a mere TD. A lefty TD, a knownothing trouble-raiser.

All respectable politicians know they shouldn’t take lefties as seriously as they take Michael Lowry or Danny Healy-Rae.

Murphy gave details, based on the experiences of the meat factory workers and their unions.

Creed replied without detail. He dismissed Murphy’s carefully worded concerns with an unfounded accusation that Murphy was engaging in “a smear tactic dressed up as concern”.

Murphy also raised the matter with the Taoiseach, back in May. Mr Varadkar said he didn’t know, but he’d ask.

I’m sure he’ll get the answer one of these days.

The dogs in the street knew about the meat factories, so did the cows in the field. And now, we all know.

And 400,000 people in the midlands are suffering the consequences of leaving the safety of the meat factories to the factory owners.

As soon as the lockdown happened, local Fine Gael TD Charlie Flanagan roared that the measures were “draconian”. Concerns about the meat plants were flagged weeks ago, he said.

Ah, yes, Charlie, they were indeed. By Paul Murphy. Who was accused by Charlie’s Cabinet colleague, Mr Creed, of smearing the meat factories.

No doubt Charlie leaped to defend Murphy, to denounce the complacency of the government in which Charlie was Minister for Justice. I’m sure he made an angry, storming speech in defence of Murphy.

If you’ve a copy of that speech, let me know.

The meat factories might as well be designed as playgrounds for the virus.

In case the virus found meat factories too difficult, the state crammed people into direct provision facilities.

There, if you have Covid symptoms, you ‘isolate’ yourself on the other side of a ‘partition’ — a piece of wood, where you’re inches away from other beds. And you share the facilities used by those who don’t have the virus — yet.

This is the Ireland in which meat factory owners, builders, bankers, vultures and the rest of the monied classes, have the ear of the government. Where they are consulted on impending legislation.

This is the Ireland where groups of workers are paid as little as possible, with few rights, in ‘challenging’ conditions, where labour inspectors are few and far between.

They’re disposable units of labour, to be plugged in when needed, to be torn out and scrapped according to the needs of the boss.

This is the Ireland that Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael have for decade after decade collaborated in making.

In that Ireland, countless times, workers, trade unions, activists, left-wing politicians and concerned citizens have raised such issues.

The state of the primary schools was raised — shanty schools, leaking roofs, scant facilities, an absurd pupilteacher ratio. Now these schools are expected to be the cutting edge of the economic revival.

The state of the hospitals was raised — under-staffed, using charity to buy crucial equipment, medics working 26-hour shifts.

Now that body of medics wonders what it faces through the winter.

To break the first wave, they worked long hours in tough conditions, for weeks. They saw colleagues sicken, they saw patients die. They are worn out. By a system they told us repeatedly needed fixing.

It was moving when we put candles in the window and applauded, but it wasn’t enough.

In this same Ireland there have been grotesque excesses — vast rewards for the well-placed.

Yet, the crisis showed us who the people are who keep the country on its feet: the medics, the cleaners, those who maintain the food and transport chains. We told each other we’ll remember this, and in the Dáil the FFGreen-FG cabal voted down worker protections. Mind you, first they had to wake the leader of the Greens.

Anyway, we had the Patrick’s Day ‘like no other’; and the summer ‘like no other’. Dare we hope the Christmas is old-style?

‘Well-founded fears about the meat factories were dismissed as a smear tactic dressed up as concern'.

Countdown to a Christmas like no other

[thedeevirus]

NYGMOBBLEPOT FICLET: ‘Together’

Fix It Fic (Kind of): Ed and Oz in the limo without any bat interruption ;)

As requested by @buntesfuenkchen!

Hope you all enjoy.

***

‘I don’t understand. How did Jeremiah know we were exchanging letters?’ Oswald asked.

He engaged the ‘privacy’ button set into the limo door. A security screen rose between the driver and the back of the limo. Oswald had no doubts about his chauffeur’s loyalty but he still wanted privacy for his and Ed’s conversation. Especially in such intimate environs. As he watched Ed shake his head, Oswald remembered the last time he and Ed had shared a limo after a recent release from Arkham. It was amazing how Ed’s smile at catching sight of him still had the power to make Oswald weak at the knees.

‘He must’ve snooped through the mail’, Ed said, ‘Looking for which buttons to push’.

‘Why pick you?’

‘I might have stabbed him in the leg once’, Ed shrugged.

‘He always was a petty individual’.

‘I can’t believe he manipulated me like that!’ Ed groaned, ‘I was just so…’

He trailed off, glancing out of the window.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I just realised I haven’t asked where we’re going’.

‘To one of my safehouses. If-if that’s okay? Sorry, I should’ve asked if there was anywhere you wanted to go’.

Oswald’s heart sank. It had been foolish to assume they would just pick up where they left off. Ed probably had a dozen other places he wanted to go. There would be time later for them to reminisce.

‘No, no!’ Ed protested, ‘Don’t apologise! There’s nowhere else I’d rather be-that is, rather go!’

They both laughed, each eager to put the other at ease.

‘Besides, knowing you, there’ll be something to drink’, Ed winked, ‘And it won’t have been fermented under a radiator’.

‘That I can guarantee’, Oswald smiled.

As they drove on, their smiles slowly faded.

‘Those letters kept me going, you know that?’ Ed offered after a few moments.

‘You know I do. I’m just sorry the presents I sent got confiscated before they could reach you’.

‘I never found out what they were’.

‘It doesn’t matter’, Oswald said reassuringly, ‘They were only little tokens I picked up around the prison’.

Ed looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

‘Ah, unsolved mystery’, Oswald said abashedly as he realised how the mystery must have been torturing Ed, ‘Um, there was a flower I found in the exercise yard, a small sculpture I made in arts and crafts that I hid a shiv inside, a few drawings, a feather, a breath mint…I can’t remember the others’.

‘That is way more than I thought’, Ed commented, cataloguing the items. Perhaps he would consider potential methods to retrieve them from Arkham later.

‘Plenty of time on my hands. Which reminds me’.

Ed swallowed as the relaxed environment suddenly grew tense.

‘Ed’, Oswald asked in a deliberately emotionless tone, ‘Why did you end up in Arkham in the first place?’

Ed swallowed. He had been anticipating this conversation sooner or later but the undercurrent of hurt in Oswald’s question was far worse than the anger he had expected.

‘The lawyer I got you was supposed to get you sent to Blackgate’, Oswald continued when Ed didn’t answer.

‘He was’, Ed agreed, Oswald’s implied, unspoken words of ‘with me’ echoing in his brain.

‘And he said you didn’t say what you were supposed to at your trial’.

‘No’.

‘Did Gordon do something to stop you?’ Oswald asked quietly, ‘Why wouldn’t you say what we planned?’

‘Because we would’ve both ended up with life sentences. In Arkham’.

Oswald’s eyes widened, causing his monocle to fall out. Ed caught it deftly and began to clean it as Oswald tried to process Ed’s words. At least he was free to process the perfect storm of emotions in the privacy of his own limo rather than suffer the horrific realization in silence in a courtroom. Like a mouse that had just noticed the brass bar of a trap.

‘No. No! No, Dent assured me that-‘

‘He lied Oswald. I figured it out while I was sitting in the court room. The bastard actually winked at Gordon. So, I got up and said I was the ‘brains’ of the whole thing. Wasn’t hard to make them believe it. Took the jury half an hour and that was just because they wanted lunch. Arkham for the crazy, cop killing Haven bomber. Ten years for his best friend trying to protect him from himself’.

Ed handed the monocle back to Oswald who took it with shaking fingers.

‘How long in Arkham?’ Oswald asked.

‘It didn’t matter’.

‘Of course it mattered!’ Oswald barked but then his voice softened as his gaze drifted to the monocle, ‘Wait, did you do it because of this?’

He pointed to his false eye and Ed’s eyes darted away.

‘I told you this wasn’t your fault!’ Oswald cried, voice cracking, ‘You didn’t need to protect me!’

‘It didn’t matter because you were safe!’ Ed snapped, cheeks reddening.

‘It did-does matter! We would have been together!’ Oswald banged a fist on the car seat. ‘We were supposed to be together!’

‘Trapped together inside a madhouse with no hope of release! Just like Gordon wanted. Be angry at me if you want but I couldn’t stand the thought of him playing ‘Happy Families’ while you rotted away behind bars!’

Oswald said nothing. Ed placed a hand on his knee, careful not to aggravate the injury. He was reassured when Oswald made no attempt to remove it.

‘Oswald’, Ed said gently, ‘Why do you think I never tried to escape?’

‘You did try to escape’, Oswald corrected him bitterly, ‘I missed letters from you for a month because a guard dog bit your hand and you couldn’t write, remember?’

Ed clenched and unclenched his fingers as phantom pains stabbed through his hand.

‘Had a moment of weakness’, Ed said, pushing his glasses up as he ignored the sensations.

‘So, the riddle you’re asking me to answer is: why didn’t you try to escape? Why did you sit in Arkham for ten years without trying to save yourself?’

‘Yes’.

Realization flashed across Oswald’s face and the seething, frustrated atmosphere instantly evaporated.

‘If you’d escaped they would have taken extra steps to keep us apart’, Oswald said softly, ‘And you knew I would come for you once I got out’.

‘I hoped’.

‘You were right. I would have. That’s why you didn’t question the letter Jeremiah forged’.

‘When I read that letter it was like a dream coming true’.

‘I’m sure it wasn’t that-‘ Oswald began, adjusting his monocle but Ed interrupted.

‘I always thought about what I’d do if…when we saw each other again’.

‘Me too’, Oswald said, ‘How does some Chinese food to start sound?’

Ed chuckled at Oswald’s innocently eager expression.

‘Well, it sounds great but it’s not quite what I meant’, he said.

Oswald looked at him questioningly and Ed decided to be bold since subtlety wasn’t working. His hand on Oswald’s knee began to slowly slide up Oswald’s leg. Oswald stiffened, mouth agape.

‘Ed?’

He gasped as Ed suddenly straddled him, his head nearly grazing the limo’s roof. Oswald froze as Ed gazed down at him. The passing streetlights danced in the lenses of Ed’s glasses, casting golden flecks into his dark eyes.

‘Tell me this is real’, Ed said, eyes half hooded yet pleading.

Oswald pulled him close instinctively.

‘It’s real’, Oswald said into his shoulder, blinking hard as he inhaled Ed’s achingly familiar, too long absent scent, ‘We’re here. Together’.

Ed shuddered, his warmth breath tickling the shell of Oswald’s ear.

‘Together’, Ed breathed huskily.

There was a clinking sound and Oswald realised Ed was undoing his belt. He took hold of Ed’s arms and halted him. He ran his hands along Ed’s arms as he spoke, focusing on the pattern of Ed’s tie.

‘Ed. I’m not what I was’, Oswald said, ‘And let’s not ignore the fact we’ve both been in prison’.

‘I’m keenly aware’, Ed said with dark humour.

‘Even though the prisoners had limited options they didn’t even want me…that way, in Blackgate’.

Oswald let go of Ed’s arms and gestured to himself. To his ruined eye. His injured leg. His unsightly, comical paunch.

‘You can’t seriously want something like this?’

Oswald’s self deprecation made Ed’s heart ache. He leant back, making a show of surveying Oswald, as if considering his options. When Oswald still didn’t look at him, Ed reached out and raised his chin, forcing Oswald to look at him.

‘Someone’, Ed corrected pointedly, removing Oswald’s hat.

Oswald smiled bashfully but Ed wasn’t finished.

‘I love this’.

Ed stroked the right side of Oswald’s face, fingertips tracing around his monocle. The sacrifice Oswald had made for him without even thinking.

‘And this’.

He touched Oswald’s knee tenderly. The first of so many scars. The sign of a survivor. A warrior. No matter how many times he was knocked off his feet, Oswald got back up.

‘And this’.

He playfully rubbed Oswald’s stomach and was rewarded with a soft chuckle. It was wonderful to see that Oswald had been eating. Too often he had seen Oswald skip meals in the past giving him an underweight borderline starved appearance. The weight suited him. He had felt warm when he had embraced Ed. Ed couldn’t remember when he had felt so safe. Oswald felt solid. Real.

‘I love you Oswald’, Ed declared.

Now Oswald was looking at him. He hadn’t looked at Ed that way in years. Ed recognised the emotions now. Hunger. Longing. Adoration. Love.

‘I’m sorry it took this’, Ed tapped his head, ‘So long to figure it out when this-’

He touched Oswald’s chest. Oswald’s breath hitched. Ed could feel his pounding heart resonating with Oswald’s. Perfectly synchronised.

‘-knew it all along’.

Ed blinked hard as time suddenly made its presence, or more accurately its absence felt. So much time wasted.

‘I was so stupid’, he sighed.

Ed suddenly felt leather glide smoothly over his cheeks and his dark eyes met Oswald’s. One glassy blue, the other a blazing green. Ice and fire.

‘Don’t ever call yourself that’, Oswald commanded and pulled him into a kiss.

Oswald’s gloved fingers tightened on Ed’s face and Ed responded by looping his arms around Oswald’s neck. Ed moaned into Oswald’s mouth as their tongues danced, warmth suffusing his body. Ed’s fingers teased Oswald’s hair, luxuriating in the feathery texture as he wordlessly prompted Oswald to keep going. As the kiss deepened, Ed began to roll his hips. Beneath him, he could feel Oswald’s arousal growing. Ed deliberately positioned his ass above it, teasing his entrance. Oswald growled deep in his throat and nipped at Ed’s lips, his sharp teeth sending tingles along Ed’s spine. Oswald’s monocle fell out again and both men broke the kiss at the sensation of the object bouncing off their cheeks. They both laughed breathlessly, blown pupils in their glittering eyes above red cheeks.

‘Someone’s excited’, Oswald grinned, looking at the conspicuous bulge in Ed’s trousers.

‘I did say I had been thinking about what I’d do when we were together again’, Ed shrugged, unrepentant.

Oswald surged forward and nuzzled into Ed’s neck. He planted breathy kisses along one of the pale blue veins, making Ed squirm on his lap.

‘You have a vivid imagination’, Oswald whispered, ‘Did you imagine it would happen in the back of a limo?’

‘I’m flexible’, Ed said, with a teasing eyebrow.

‘I’m sure you are’, Oswald said, then suddenly winced, teeth gritted.

Ed realised Oswald’s knee was spasming and hastily got up. He carefully extended the leg and began to massage it. Oswald smiled at him gratefully.

‘Sadly, it seems I’m not’, Oswald said, ‘Shall we continue this conversation in a warm bed?’

‘It seems like this conversation could continue all the way until breakfast tomorrow’, Ed smiled.

‘They are best together’, Oswald said.

[bigfan-fanfic]

What I’ve Learned from Disney Princesses

Sorry - super long post that isn’t a fic and doesn’t have anything to do with much. Just a rant - something I thought about and had to write down.

I firmly believe that in life, we are always learning. And from a young age, I have been learning from Disney - I think that my rather large vocabulary comes from learning Disney songs by heart at a young age - there are some pretty complicated words in there, people!

I was born and currently identify as male, but the Disney Princess movies have taught me valuable lessons over my life. The Princesses espouse admirable qualities, teach life lessons, and introduce us to the harsh truths of life. I’d like to share with you what I found the message these characters send to be, and maybe see if anyone feels the same?

So, under the break, I’m going to discuss all 12 of the official Disney Princesses, as well as Elsa and Anna, because I feel they have a lot to offer as far as life lessons go.

1. Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs)

Snow White does teach valuable lessons. She is just a young girl during the movie, but she shows remarkable fortitude in her ordeals. She does put herself in a servant role to the Dwarfs, but think about it -she’s been made a servant by her stepmother, so it’s likely the only thing of use she knows how to do. Not to mention she’s paying for her lodging and food by working. Snow is a princess, but she shows remarkable humility by being willing to work and earn her keep. 

Snow’s story also teaches us the downfalls of seeing the good everywhere. A little bit of cynicism is healthy, and keeps us alive. Snow’s willingness to see the good is what allows her to be so cheerful and loving towards the Dwarfs, but also makes her an easy target for a certain apple salesperson.

Be humble. Be fair. And don’t be so trusting.

2. Cinderella (Cinderella)

Cinderella might seem to be a passive, submissive example of a princess who “needs a man to rescue her.” But I think differently. Cinderella shows courage and strength in doing the only thing she can: surviving. Think about it: Cinderella has basically no other option but to be slave to her stepfamily. Her mother and father are dead. But does she complain? Does she give in to the idea that there might not be a single human left in the world who cares about her?

No.

Cinderella teaches us the quiet strength of endurance, of compassion and love even when we don’t receive any. Cinderella remains positive and hopeful in the face of adversity, and she is rewarded. 

Cinderella teaches us the harsh truth that sometimes, we have no other option but to muddle through and hope. Dreaming and wishing can be our refuge, and we must not let ourselves be broken by our circumstances. We must always show compassion and love where we are shown none, to those that need and deserve it. Cinderella cares for her animal friends, even though they can not conceivably do anything for her, and this “paying it forward” is rewarded.

And yes, Cinderella does have to depend on the kindness of others. But this in itself is a lesson. We, like Cinderella, do not always have agency over our lives. Sometimes we are kept from the ball. Sometimes the spell has to end at midnight. But Cinderella’s endurance and spirit is what sees her through.

Be strong. Be kind. Be like Cinderella.

3. Aurora (Sleeping Beauty)

True, there isn’t much to take from Aurora’s actions, due to her getting little screen time. But, Aurora teaches us the power of intent. She has been sheltered all her life and cut off from contact. And yet, she is unafraid to dream of finding more. And she does, though probably not how she expected to.

Aurora teaches us the harsh truth that we can be punished for something we had no control over. She was cursed to effectively die for an insult her parents gave! (Incidentally, a lesson I learned from Sleeping Beauty was to show respect at all times, to avoid grudges) 

Aurora may not teach us much directly. Her lessons involve having no control, and just having to deal with it.

So, yes, there will be times when your life won’t be fair. And, sorry, but you’ll just have to hope for the best. Hold on to your dreams for when life hits you hard.

4. Ariel (The Little Mermaid)

For a long time, Ariel was my least favorite Disney Princess. She’s the “girl who has everything” but can’t appreciate it.  She’s got material goods, family who cares, friends, a killer singing voice, but she takes it all for granted. Not to mention she skips out on prior commitments for selfish reasons. But Ariel teaches us a lesson about parenting that we would do well to remember:

Share with your child. Ariel’s curiosity about the surface world stems from her father’s insistence that she should never come in contact with it. Triton could’ve avoided a whole lot of trouble by maybe showing Ariel the human world a little at a time, or told her about why Ursula was so bad. 

Ariel also a lesson of her own: that it is okay to depend on others. Yes, she needs Sebastian to help her romance Eric. Yes, she needs Eric to help her defeat Ursula. But these do not make her weak. Ariel’s pure love and curiosity for whatever she happens to come across is her strength, and is what charms everyone around her. She is willing to selflessly defy her father in order to save a surface person from almost certain death. We all need to realize that we are not alone in this world, and it is okay to rely on those we can trust. When, like Ariel, we are voiceless, we should be able to count on our loved ones for support.

So, parents, share and be honest with your children. Kids, know that you aren’t alone, that it’s okay to rely on your parents and friends for stuff. You aren’t weak. We all need each other.

5. Belle (Beauty and the Beast)

Belle is possibly my favorite Disney Princess of all time. She’s got it all: brains, confidence, beauty. But the real virtue she shows us as people does not come from her book learning. It comes from emotional intelligence. Belle’s greatest quality is her understanding. 

Belle lives in a small town full of “little people,” and she is insecure about how different she is from them. The repetitive life they lead is not enough for her, and she wonders if anyone can understand her. There’s “no one [she] can really talk with.” And later, the villagers will state in “The Mob Song” that “we don’t like what we don’t understand; in fact it scares us, and this monster is mysterious at least.”

She is the only one who can see through the facade that Gaston puts on for all the villagers. She is able to see through the Beast’s posturing and get him to become the man inside. Belle sees Cogsworth’s pride and uses it to get him to show her the castle, and recognizes that the Beast won’t hurt her. Her understanding of people, and her ability to look past the outer shell is her greatest power, and ultimately allows her to break the curse by recognizing her love for the Beast, despite how mean and vicious he may appear. Belle shows us the value of attempting to understand those that may look and behave differently from us, and how reaching across that divide may not be as difficult as we think.

Belle’s story also teaches us the harsh truth that talent and wisdom often go unappreciated compared to beauty and looks. No one believes “Crazy Old Maurice” when his word is against Gaston, the village golden boy. None of the villagers see anything other than a scary, mysterious castle with a vicious beast in it. Even the Beast himself was cursed due to his inability to look past the Enchantress’ disguise. 

So seek to understand those you meet, both their flaws and qualities. And don’t judge a book by its cover. 

6. Jasmine (Aladdin)

Jasmine is pretty cool. She has a pet tiger, so... 

Anyway, Jasmine shows us how to be free. She doesn’t want to be wed to someone she doesn’t love, and so she tries to escape her life. She has Rajah attack suitors who try to get too close. She doesn’t take anything from anyone. Jasmine is generous and righteous, and although she might get into trouble due to her sheltered upbringing, Jasmine teaches us that we can’t let people deny us our freedom.

But Jasmine’s story teaches us the harsh truth that there are people out there who will stop at nothing to get what they want. Jafar resorts to manipulation, mind control, and then outright force to get what he wants. Even Aladdin uses the Genie’s incredible power to deceive his way to Jasmine. But even though Prince Ali seems perfect, Jasmine doesn’t really start to like him until he semi-reveals himself as Aladdin by asking her “do you trust me?” And Jasmine defies Jafar, even when he has the Genie’s power, even when he has her father under his power.

So, even when the greedy and selfish seek to use you, remember to hold on and exercise your freedom. It’s your life.

7. Pocahontas (Pocahontas)

Pocahontas is possibly the most controversial on the list, but I think that she is important in the lessons she can teach.

Pocahontas is independent and true to herself, but she also wrestles with tough inner conflict from duty. She wants to hope that something “waits just around the riverbend” but is in conflict with her tribe’s mantra of keeping steady and not rocking the boat. But her greatest virtue is her commitment to peace.

 Pocahontas not only promotes peace between cultures, but peace between man and nature. “We are all connected to each other/in a circle, in a hoop that never ends.” Pocahontas believes in this value of peace so much that she is willing to sacrifice herself for love rather than live in a world where war has broken out among the two sides. Her main adviser is not a human, but a spirit of nature itself. 

And the movie reveals harsh truths about how people treat those they do not understand. The song “Savages” is especially poignant, as Pocahontas deals with her inability to save John Smith while both sides abandon any hope for peace/cooperation and prepare for war. A strain from “Listen With Your Heart” plays before the second part of the song, showing that Pocahontas will either prove that peace is possible or die trying. As the end of the song arises, Pocahontas throws herself onto John Smith, forcing her father to either choose to back down or to kill his own daughter. 

Yes, Pocahontas sanitizes a lot of the struggle of the period. But the idea that one selfless act has the power to affect change is a powerful one. Pocahontas shows us that peace is an ideal worth dying for, even when it seems that no one will listen.

8. Mulan (Mulan)

Mulan starts her film chafing against her society’s constraints, unable to be herself and attempting to force herself into the mold of “perfect porcelain doll” that she is expected to be. Mulan’s love for her father is what motivates her to join the army in his place. Ironically, as her story deals with deception and deceit for the greater good, Mulan teaches us to be true to ourselves.

While she masquerades as Ping, Mulan is largely ineffectual, starting a camp-wide brawl on her first day and earning enmity from her comrades by adopting an overly-macho facade. It’s only when Mulan uses skills from her true personality that she thrives. Her ingenuity is foreshadowed in the way she does her chores by setting up Little Brother to do them, her sense of fairness is shown when she gives a little girl back her doll, and her incredible persistence is shown in the way she steadfastly goes through with the matchmaking ceremony, even when she has to resort to cheating to get through it. 

Mulan’s creativity allows her to climb the pole to retrieve the arrow, and her victory against Shan Yu in the mountains is brought about by her creative use of the cannon to cause an avalanche.

Mulan teaches us the harsh truth that there are things in life that we will just not be good at. Mulan does not excel at the memorization and graceful movements that other girls in her society are expected to use. But she does excel at tactics, thinking creatively, and adapting to situations as they come. And though her society prevents her from using her true talents, she finds a way to break out of that box and use her abilities to their fullest extent.

We all have our strengths and talents, and we must find a way to use them rather than be constrained by the norms of society. “The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.”

9. Tiana (The Princess and the Frog)

Tiana is different from the other Princesses because her best quality is also her flaw - she is focused and hard-working. Tiana is so diligent towards achieving her goals that she doesn’t allow herself to enjoy life. Tiana mostly teaches others how to focus on what they really want, but she’s got her own lesson to learn. 

“I remember Daddy told me/”Fairy tales can come true,/ But you’ve got to make them happen/it all depends on you.” Tiana has learned this lesson that blood, sweat, and tears are dependable - fairy godmothers are rare. It is hard to determine what Tiana needs to learn because she has so many good qualities - responsibility, self-sufficiency, diligence

“Blue skies and sunshine” are what Mama Odie recommends to her, and Tiana realizes that she doesn’t have to deny herself fun to achieve her goals. She starts out with several jobs to save up for her restaurant, and it all turns out to be for nothing. Tiana already knows that she must rely on herself to make her dreams come true, but she needs to learn to stop and smell the roses. She learns that she doesn’t have to solely dedicate herself to one thing. She can take time for fun, time to dance with her mother before getting back to work.

But Tiana’s story also teaches us the harsh truth that people are often far too open to temptation. “This whole town can slow you down/People taking the easy way...” Dr. Facilier and the Friends from the Other Side take advantage of what people want but don’t want to work for in order to manipulate them. “You got what you wanted/But you lost what you had.” Tiana, however, recognizes the value of hard work and does not give in to the Doctor’s manipulations. Even when Facilier gives her her restaurant, where she is loved and respected and dressed up, she quickly realizes it is nothing but an empty offer. Tiana does what none of the other characters tempted by Facilier have been able to do - say no.

So, work hard, but don’t forget to play sometimes. And know that your dreams won’t come true overnight - hard work is often needed.

10. Rapunzel (Tangled)

Rapunzel’s story teaches us perseverance. Every year, the king and queen send up lanterns for the lost princess - never losing hope that their daughter is out there. And it is these very lanterns that draw their daughter back to them. Rapunzel perseveres in her tower, waiting for her life to begin. And when opportunity finally strikes, Rapunzel seizes it. She doesn’t just grab the bull by the horns, she swipes it upside the head with a frying pan!

Rapunzel teaches us the harsh truth that trust is never to be taken for granted. Even the people who are supposed to love us and care for us might not always have our best interests at heart. Rapunzel spends much of the movie fearful that she is betraying her mother, only to find out she was lied to her whole life. The folks at the Snuggly Duckling encourage her to chase her dreams, but also inadvertently set Gothel on her trail. And Gothel is easily able to manipulate Rapunzel into distrusting Eugene.

So never give up, and be sure that those you place your trust in deserve it.

11. Merida (Brave)

Merida, like Mulan, struggles with societal constraints. Like Ariel, she can be flighty and irresponsible. But ultimately, Merida teaches us about the give and take of relationships, even among parents and children. Merida feels her mother lacks understanding. And her mother feels the same. Their relationship, once so close, is broken by the divide between them, represented by Merida’s damaging of the tapestry her mother made.

As Merida and Eleanor go through their journey, Merida learns about her mother’s strength and power, which comes from calm words and the bearing of a leader

12. Moana (Moana)

Moana is a really great addition to the lineup. She’s strong, funny, and smart, and she is wise. Moana, unlike Mulan, does not struggle with fitting in to society. She is able to competently assume the role of chief under the guidance of her father. And it is important to note that when Moan first tries to go to the sea, she fails. It is only when she does so in order to save her people that she succeeds. 

So, Moana’s virtue is also her tough lesson. There are things in this world more important than ourselves. Maui’s need to be loved is also the source of his great insecurity, and led him to steal the heart of Te Fiti. Te Ka’s anger nearly prevents Moana and Maui from restoring her heart. Moana’s grandmother and mother teach her the power of selflessness. Moana’s grandmother is the one to teach her about their people’s past as voyagers, and Moana’s mother - though she may fear for her daughter’s life - allows her to go and helps her pack for her journey. And Moana teaches Maui about doing things for others, not for gratitude, but because it is right. 

And Moana leads her people into voyaging once more. Not because she desired to go to the sea, but because it is the way of her people that was forgotten. Because it was the only solution to save her people when they began to overfish and helps spread them across the world. Moana’s motivation grows from a selfish one to a selfless one. And in a weird way, this comes from self-acceptance. “I Am Moana” is what she learns, that she can do things, and her talents are to be used to help her people, not just herself. 

Be yourself. Use your talents and follow your dreams. But never forget to use your abilities and gains for the good of others.

13. Elsa (Frozen)

Elsa is forced for much of her life to live in isolation, even from her beloved sister, which practically destroys their relationship. “Let It Go” may be a song for accepting herself, but it also occurs in isolation. Elsa feels the only way she can be herself is through this isolation. “Yes, I’m alone, but I’m alone and free.” She’s not really accepting who she is, but rather accepting the idea that she’s a dangerous monster, but when no one’s there for her to hurt, she can be happy.

Elsa learns through her sister’s love that she isn’t a monster. And she learns that love is how she can control her powers. Her parents worry that her powers will make her a target, but the fear of herself instilled in her makes them more uncontrollable. After all, if Elsa’s had these powers all her life (and shows remarkable control over them at a young age), the loss of control is directly linked to self-suppression. It is only when Anna sacrifices herself that Elsa regains true control -  because Anna repeatedly shows that she loves her sister, no matter what. And this unconditional love makes Elsa truly believe that she isn’t a monster.

So, Elsa teaches us that to truly accept ourselves, we need to accept others. You don’t have to be as cheery and personable as Anna, but isolation isn’t healthy.

14. Anna (Frozen)

Anna, meanwhile, learns a similar lesson. Also forced into isolation, Anna desires to have experiences, to live life. “For the First Time in Forever” really indicates Anna’s longing for connection and experience. Part of why she’s so willing to love Hans and believe he loves her is because of this isolation. In her point of view, Elsa rebuffs her one day with no warning, and practically never even sees her again for years. “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?” shows Anna’s regret and sadness as the years pass, and is heartbreaking as she slowly stops trying to communicate with her sister.

Anna teaches us about trying to communicate, about showing unconditional love. “Please don’t shut me out again,” she begs Elsa. And even though her sister has (accidentally) hurt her, Anna consistently tries to bridge the gap. 

Anna’s arc shows us the tough truth that relationships, even close ones, can decay. The close sisterly bond has all but faded between them. But Anna also shows us that no matter the difficulty. At the final scene, when the tune of “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman” plays, it signifies that Elsa and Anna have finally repaired their relationship, that they finally can be family again.

So, we learn from Anna to give our love unconditionally. Because forgiveness, trust, love, and most importantly the desire to make a connection all help us repair our broken relationships.