#so i made my way higher up to like an attic and there was a *separate* paramilitary group and the two groups ended up fighting

[ghoastixx]

What about Castiel with a kid who’s constantly climbing things? Like when he needs them and can’t find them the first place he has to look is the rafters or the roof because they’re always climbing something?

Castiel w/ an an active kid!reader

synopsis above

notes: OH MY GOD!! I saw this when it came in last week and got so excited I literally love this. (I may or may not favor castiel) This is such a cute request that I'd be more than happy to fulfill!

Author's notes: Reader is gender neutral and there is no specific age but its probably 7-16. For the sake of plot, reader is a Winchester.

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You had always been a little clingy when it came to your brothers. When they introduced you to Castiel, he instantly became included in your clinginess.

As Castiel started to spend more time on earth and more time around humans, when he was starting to become less stern and cold, he started to take more of a notice to your behaviors. You were quite active.

That was good of course! Children should be active, after all. Especially with a life like yours, constantly on the road and in and out of schools.. sports never an option.. hiking be dangerous.

He found this out when you two went on a walk to the local park in the town the Winchester's were hunting at. They had asked Castiel to assist you on your journey out.

"Aw, sick! A jungle gym!" Was all the angel had clocked before you ran off towards the play park. He watched in strange fascination as you quickly made your way to the top of it, perching in a way that was reminiscent of a bird to him. He sat down on the bench and watched you.

He watched as you made your way on top of some monkey bars, climbing rock structures, to the top of slides and tunnels. He had never seen a human do something like this. Just climb.

So he started to pay more attention.

He began to notice how you would climb onto the top of Dean's impala if you were all waiting around outside, sitting down on it to wait. How (If you were old enough for hunts) you'd always take the higher up places, checking attics or little crawl spaces in the ceilings. How whenever you went to Bobby's, you'd just disappear in the rafters of his attic. Crawling around as if you were a spider.

Dean walked into the kitchen. Sam and Bobby were sitting at the table, Castiel glancing out the window. "Where's Y/N?" Dean spoke up, breaking the silence.

"Attic," Cas said before anyone else could answer.

"Why would they be in the attic," Sam cut in,

"They're climbing the rafters. They are feeling restless." The stoic angel's gaze never wavered from the window.

"Well, can you go get them, I'll take them outside to run around or something."

"They are not an animal," Castiel grumbled before going to retrieve you.

He ducked into the attic, brushing some dust away, "Y/N,"

Undisturbed and unalarmed, your head peeks down from the rafters, a smile on your face, "Cas!"

He smiled, ushering you down. "Come on, time to get down, you're needed downstairs."

As you leapt down, you looked at the angel. "How did you know I was up here?"

Castiel smiled a bit, "I pay attention."

[ultrone]

🏹﹒♱ ┊ hunting lessons. hunter nat scatorccio

🎧 𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶 fade into you by mazzy star

synopsis. nat teaches u how to hunt.

cw. friends to lovers trope (?), shooting an animal.

wc. 2.8k

n/a. just finished binge-watching yellowjackets and fell in love with nat (and shauna and pre-crash lottie), i almost combusted and threw up when i saw the lack of fics 😖 had to do something abt it so here y'all go 🙌🏻

It was already afternoon, and you had devoted most of the entire morning to chopping pieces of wood. The stack of wood grew steadily higher, as you meticulously arranged each piece, ensuring there was enough to sustain a warm fire for at least three days. It was a laborious process, but one you found solace in, the repetitive motion calming your thoughts.

The crisp winter air filled your lungs as you swung the axe, each powerful stroke splitting the logs with a satisfying thud. Your breath formed small clouds of vapour, mingling with the falling snowflakes. As you continued your diligent work, wood cracking echoed through the quiet surroundings, accompanied by the occasional chirping of distant birds.

With the woodpile complete, you wearily cleaned your tools, removing any lingering wood chips, and carefully stowed them away in their designated place. As you finished, a gentle voice called out from behind you.

"Are you finished?" Tai asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Turning towards her with a tired smile, you nodded and replied, "Yes, finally done. I managed to gather enough wood to last us for a few days. I'm just going to take a quick nap upstairs, though. My body could use a rest."

Tai's eyes widened slightly, her concern evident. "You've been working so hard today," she said empathetically. "Make sure you get some good rest. I'll keep an eye on the fire and wake you up if anything happens."

You appreciated her thoughtfulness and gratitude washed over you. "Thanks, Tai," you replied, "I'll only be upstairs for a little while. Wake me up if you need anything, okay?"

She nodded and gave you an encouraging smile. "Take care. I'll see you later."

With a final wave, you made your way wearily inside, your tired footsteps echoing on the wooden floor. Climbing the stairs, you reached the attic, shedding your heavy outerwear and sinking into the comfort of the bedsheets. The weariness of the day settled upon you, and as your eyes closed, you drifted into a much-needed slumber.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs stirred you from your sleep. You groggily registered the noise but dismissed it, assuming it was just the usual household activity. However, your drowsiness was quickly interrupted when you felt someone settling down beside you. Startled, you blinked your eyes open to find Nat, grinning mischievously.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to hibernate for three hours instead of twenty minutes," Nat teased, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes and turning to face her. "Damn it, Nat. I can't believe I overslept like that. Why didn’t you wake me up?"

She smirked, propping herself up on one elbow. "Oh, and miss the opportunity to witness your adorable sleeping face? No way. It was too good to pass up."

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving her shoulder. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Guilty as charged," she replied, grinning unabashedly. "But hey, since you're finally awake, are you ready for your hunting lesson? Or do you need another three-hour nap?" She teased.

Your groggy mind took a moment to process her words, realizing that you had completely forgotten about the hunting expedition. With a tired sigh, you covered your face with the blankets, only peering out with an adorably exasperated expression.

"Nat, do we seriously have to go hunting?" you whined, your voice muffled by the cozy fabric. "I mean, can't we just... I don't know, I honestly wouldn't mind chopping wood for the rest of my life. It's a lot less daunting than tracking down wild animals, don't you think?"

"Chopping wood for eternity? Seriously? That's your alternative plan?" Nat replied, amusement lacing her voice.

"Hey, at least chopping wood sounds a little less intimidating than embarking on a hunt. And besides, check out these guns I’ve got now," you said, flexing your biceps with a hint of cockiness.

Nat chuckled and teasingly poked your side. "Oh, come on, Mr. Lumberjack. Where's your sense of adventure? Besides, hunting isn't just about killing animals; it's about survival, connecting with nature, and embracing the wild." She said with a fake inspirational tone.

"Damn, now you sound even crazier than Lottie," you jokingly remarked.

Nat widened her eyes in mock surprise, placing a hand on her chest in an exaggeratedly offended manner. "You better take that back," she playfully retorted.

"Okay, c'mon now, let's go," she urged, her tone indicating a hint of excitement. "It's gonna get dark in just a couple of hours, so we better get moving." Taking the lead, Nat reached out and gently took your hand, tugging you downstairs. Her touch was warm, and you couldn't help but feel your chest flutter a bit at the contact.

In the dimly lit room, Nat guided you towards the equipment laid out on a table. With care and efficiency, she helped you put on the necessary gear, ensuring everything was secure. As she fastened the straps and adjusted the fittings, her touch was gentle yet purposeful, a tender familiarity you couldn't help but notice.

She then retrieved a neck gaiter and gently slid it over your head, adjusting it snugly around your neck. Pulling it up slightly, she positioned it to cover your mouth and nose, shielding you from the chill in the air. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that exchange, a flicker of unspoken affection passed between you.

Nat took a step closer, her gentle touch pulling the hood of your attire snugly over your head. With utmost care, she tucked away any stray strands of hair behind your ears. The simple yet affectionate gesture didn't escape your notice, and a warmth stirred within you. However, both of you remained oblivious to the unspoken attraction that lingered in the air. Underneath the fabric concealing your face, a faint blush spread across your cheeks, as her considerate actions revealed her protective nature, further endearing her to you.

Breaking the silence that enveloped you both, Nat let out a playful remark, bringing a smile to your face. "Alright, let's get going before Lottie goes all wicca on us,” she quipped. “Last time she made Travis and I down one of her weird ass drinks and it tasted like shit," she added with a grimace, eliciting a chuckle from you.

With determination in her eyes, Nat led the way as both of you stepped outside into the pristine white landscape, the snow crunching under your boots. The biting cold nipped at your cheeks, but the excitement of the hunt kept you warm from within. Heading north, you scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of movement or animal tracks. The towering trees stood tall, their branches adorned with a delicate layer of snow, creating a picturesque scene that contrasted with the anticipation pulsating through your veins.

"Remind me again, Nat, why couldn't we just stick to shooting cans in the comfort of our ‘backyard’?" you asked, your tone filled with a mix of curiosity and mild protest.

Nat flashed you a wry grin, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and wisdom. "Shooting cans is child's play, Y/n,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of playful sarcasm. “I wanted you to experience the real deal, the hands-on thrill of hunting. You know, the kind that makes your heart race and your senses come alive,” she exaggerated her tone with fake enthusiasm. “Don’t be a pussy," she added, teasingly emphasizing her point.

"Yeah, right. Whatever you say," you huffed, eliciting a grin from Nat beneath her face-covering.

You continued walking for a couple of minutes, the snow crunching under your boots with each step. Suddenly, you felt Nat's arm gently press against your chest, bringing you to an abrupt halt. Instinctively, you turned to look at her, only to find her blue eyes locked onto something with an intense focus. You followed her gaze, directing your attention to the right, where a tree stood proudly. Underneath its branches, a small, fluffy bunny nestled peacefully in a bed of fallen leaves. Its delicate form rose and fell with the rhythm of its slumber, completely unaware of your presence.

With a cautious demeanor, Nat carefully retrieved the gun from her side and placed it in your hands. Sensing the need for stability in your aim, she commanded you to lie down on the ground, where you could rest your arms against the earth. It was a thoughtful decision on her part, recognizing that shooting while lying down would provide a steadier position, especially since your aim needed improvement. In this way, she intended to teach you to utilize the support of the ground, enabling you to better control your shots.

As you settled into the prone position, the weight of the gun pressed against your palms, and the coldness of the ground seeped through your clothing. Nat positioned herself intimately close beside you, her body snugly fitting against yours, perfectly mirroring your stance. She delicately wrapped her arms around you, providing a comforting embrace.

As you were about to adjust your face-covering to facilitate better communication, Nat's delicate touch reached out and gently tugged it down for you, revealing your faces to each other. In that moment, her gaze lingered deeply on your lips, and then her eyes met yours with an intensity that stirred a flutter in your stomach.

Whispering softly, her warm breath grazed your ear, creating a delicate shiver that traveled down your spine. The proximity of her lips to yours was tantalizing, and you could feel the gentle warmth of her breath caressing your mouth. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible magnetic force, drawing you closer together.

"Remember to load the gun," she reminded you, her voice barely audible over the winter breeze, but her words were merely a backdrop to the unspoken tension that swirled between you. Her arms encircled your body, providing not only stability but a sense of security and reassurance. In this moment, you were acutely aware of her presence, her body fitting perfectly against yours, as if you were two puzzle pieces destined to interlock.

As you prepared to take your shot, the weight of the gun became secondary to the fluttering sensation in your stomach. Nat's captivating gaze and the proximity of her touch made your heart race with intensity.

"Take a deep breath in... and exhale," Nat instructed, her voice a soothing melody cutting through the crisp air. And with each inhale and exhale, you felt your racing heart steady, the rhythm of your breath aligning with the tranquil surroundings.

As you aligned your sights, the world around you blurred, leaving only the target in your vision. In a fluid motion, you squeezed the trigger, the recoil rippling through your body. The shot echoed through the air, a testament to your growing skill.

The bullet found its mark, striking the bunny with precision. A sense of excitement and accomplishment washed over you as you witnessed the small creature stir and then lie still.

Elation bubbled up within you, and turning towards Nat, you couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. "Did you see that? Nailed it!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with both triumph and a playful undertone.

Nat's eyes sparkled with surprise. "To be honest I wasn't expecting much from you," she admitted, a playful smirk curling on her lips. "You've definitely surprised me."

"Ouch, no faith in my skills, huh?" you replied with a mock pout, pretending to be hurt by her lack of expectations.

She chuckled, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Well, you know, I've always believed in your ability to surprise me in the most unexpected ways," Nat retorted, her playful tone matching yours, as a glimmer of tension began to weave its way into the air.

In that moment, as Nat spoke, her eyes caught sight of a stray strand of hair gently drifting towards your face. Without hesitation, her fingertips delicately brushed it behind your ear, her subtle touch sending a shiver down your spine, and as your eyes met, you both felt an undeniable tension building between you. Time seemed to slow as she lingered there, her gaze shifting from your smile to your eyes, softness settling over her features.

Your heart quickened as you mirrored her actions, and the magnetic pull between you grew stronger, intensifying the tension. With each passing second, the unspoken connection sparked in the air, enveloping you both. As you leaned in, the space between you narrowed, causing the world around you to fade into the background.

But just as your lips were about to meet, a rustle in the distance broke the spell, bringing you back to reality. Startled, you instinctively pulled away, the moment shattered but not forgotten. A mixture of disappointment and curiosity filled the silence, leaving an unspoken question lingering between you: What could have been?

As the charged atmosphere slowly dissipated, and you and Nat found yourselves back in the present moment, a voice broke through the silence. "Finally, there you are! Dinner's ready, guys. We're all waiting for you," Shauna said, unknowingly interrupting the moment.

You both turned towards her, momentarily startled by her arrival. You exchanged a glance, a mixture of disappointment and gratitude for the timely interruption. Nat composed herself and returned Shauna's smile. "Thanks, Shauna," she replied, her tone masking any hint of the emotions that had filled the air just moments before. "We'll be right there."

With a nod, Shauna turned and walked away, leaving the two of you laying there, caught in a mixture of emotions. Instinctively, you both decided to mask the intensity of the moment and carried on as if nothing had happened.

You quickly regained your composure, and without missing a beat, you casually reached down to retrieve the bunny. Nat followed suit, and together, you started making your way back to the cabin for dinner.

The journey back to the cabin was quiet, each step accompanied by a lingering tension. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the surroundings into a dusky embrace. As darkness settled around you, the soft glow of the moon emerged, casting an ethereal light upon your path. Words seemed unnecessary, as the weight of the unspoken hung between you.

Just as you were about to reach the cabin, lost in your thoughts, Nat's hand unexpectedly found yours, causing you to turn towards her with surprise. Without a word, she turned you around and pressed you against the closest tree. The moon's soft glow highlighted her intense gaze, and the tension between you grew palpable.

In an instant, Nat leaned in, her lips meeting yours with an intensity that left you breathless. The forcefulness of the kiss took you by surprise, but you quickly responded, fueled by the eagerness and pent-up desire that had been building up between you.

In that moment, you let go of the bunny, allowing it to drop to the ground, as your arms instinctively wrapped around Nat's neck. Your fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, desperate to deepen the kiss. The urgency between you was palpable, as if you both had been waiting for this release, a long-awaited culmination of unspoken feelings. Nat's hands slid down to your waist, pressing against you with a fervent desire.

As the kiss deepened, you felt Nat's playful nibble on your lower lip, and you softly parted your lips, wordlessly inviting her to explore further. With a gentle push of her tongue, she sought entrance into the intimate depths of your mouth, craving the taste of it.

After what felt like an eternity, Nat finally pulled away, her breath mingling with yours as she rested her forehead against yours. A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry," she breathed, her voice filled with a mix of apology and exhilaration. Her breath came in short bursts as she tried to regain composure. "I didn't mean to pounce on you like that, It's just that our moment back there kinda messed me up, and I couldn't wait any longer,” she confessed, her voice tinged with a touch of self-deprecating humor.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, trying to catch your breath as you looked into her eyes. "Well, that was quite the way to show it," you replied, your voice laced with a teasing tone. "But I can't say I'm complaining. I was hoping you'd make a move. Shauna interrupting us almost gave me blue balls," you joked.

Laughter erupted from both of you, the lingering tension from earlier dissipating into thin air as you shared this lighthearted moment. With that, the two of you straightened your clothes and made your way back to the cabin, joining the rest of the team for dinner.

[paisholotus]

ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ FOUR

༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ Capture The Flag Buddy۪۪۫۫? ༄ؘ

Percy's Pov

Once I got over the fact that my Latin teacher was a horse, we had a nice tour, though I was careful not to walk behind him. I’d done pooper-scooper patrol in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and, I’m sorry, I did not trust Chiron’s back end the way I trusted his front. We passed the volleyball pit.

Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the minotaur horn I was carrying. Another said, “That’s him.” Most of the campers were older than me. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters.

I wasn’t normally shy, but the way they stared at me made me uncomfortable. I felt like they were expecting me to do a flip or something. I looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than I’d realized—four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort.

I was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught my eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct impression I was being watched.

“What’s up there?” I asked Chiron. He looked where I was pointing, and his smile faded. “Just the attic.” he mumbled. “Somebody lives there?" I asked, looking up at him.

No,” he said with finality. “Not a single living thing.” I got the feeling he was being truthful. But I was also sure something had moved that curtain. “Come along, Percy,” Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. “Lots to see.” We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.

"Where's Selene? I haven't seen her today." I asked, him, but mostly mumbling to myself. The brown skin girl stayed on my mind, the fact that she was a full Goddess and chose to be here, confused me. I know some of the campers had to not like her, because she's a Goddess. But, she told me she wanted to be here because she wanted friends. But, she couldn't seem to make any real ones, due to everyone treating her as something higher than them, as then their equal. But, to be honest, it's probably not easy being friends with a Goddess.

"She's in Olympus with her parents. But, your little girlfriend will be back later on today." He mocked, as he walked forward, not looking back. I glared at the back of his head, and smack my teeth. Nobody, asked you to be a asshole, gramps.

Chiron told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. “It pays our expenses,” he explained. “And the strawberries take almost no effort.” He said, Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.

I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. I wondered if Grover could work that kind of magic with music. I wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D.

“Grover won’t get in too much trouble, will he?” I asked Chiron. “I mean…he was a good protector. Really.” Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horse’s back like a saddle. “Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable." He murmured, rolling his eyes slightly.

"To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill.” he said, folding his arms, frowning.

“But he did that!” I yelled back at him. I didn't like how he was insulting my friend. Grover may have lied to me about what he was, but he's always been there for me. And, I wasn't going to let this old gass bag down talk him, like he was nothing. Grover tried his best!

Chiron huffed and started walking again. "Come, along Percy, we have much to discuss."

-Time Skip-

“Clarisse,” Annabeth sighed. “Why don’t you go polish your spear or something?” Annabeth, tiredly crossed her arms. “Sure, Miss Princess,” the big girl said. “So I can run you through with it Friday night.” Clarisse threatened. “Erre es korakas!” Annabeth said, which I somehow understood wasGreek for ‘Go to the crows!’ though I had a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounded.

“You don’t stand a chance. We’ll pulverize you,” Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. Perhaps she wasn’t sure she could follow through on the threat. She turned toward me. “Who’s this little runt?” she said, glaring me up and down. “Percy Jackson,” Annabeth said, “meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares.” I blinked. “Like…the war god?” Clarisse sneered. “You got a problem with that?” “No,” I said, recovering my wits. “It explains the bad smell.” I said, trying not to chuckle.

Clarisse growled. “We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy.” she said, walking towards me, smirking.

“Percy!" I corrected. “Yeah, whatever. Come on, I’ll show you.” she said, devilishly low. “Clarisse—” Annabeth tried to say. “Stay out of it, wise girl.” Clarisse yelled out.

"Clarisse, must you terrorize every person you see? I mean really, you don't have anything else better to do?" A familiar voice said behind me. I turned around and gasped seeing Selene walking up behind me. She turned to me and gave me a gentle smile, I felt my cheeks get hot as I looked into her deep brown eyes, that seem to sparkle gold.

Clarisse glared at Selene and walked towards her stopping five inches away from her. "Why, don't you go do what other Gods and Goddesse's do, and mind your business." Clarisse said, threatening low, making the other Ares children shift uncomfortably.

I sorta held my breath watching them. Selene really didn't seem scared or bothered by, Clarisse's presence. She looked her directly in the eyes.

"Clarisse it's seems you have a terrible notion that I'm afraid of you. You may can scare everyone else here, but I can assure you, I am not one of those people. I do not fear you." Selene said, confidently and strongly.

I looked at Clarisse's now balled fists, she clenched her jaw giving Selene deadly glares. Which I know if looks could kill Selene would be dead, maybe that would be the case for normal people. But, I don't even think deadly glares could kill a God or Goddess.

"You don't belong here. Why, don't you go back to Olympus and sit on your throne. Nobody wants to be your fucking friend!" She seethed out. I felt myself get angry all of a sudden, I didn't like Clarisse talking to Selene like that.

Selene gave Clarisse a gentle smile back, "no, sweetheart, nobody wants to be YOUR FRIEND! The reason I have friends is because I care, and despite me being a Goddess, I win and lose. I show SPORTSMANSHIP! People aren't afraid to come up and talk to me. Can people say the same about you? You think these Ares kids in this cabin love and respect you? THEY FEAR YOU! And, that's how we're different Clarisse."

She said, walking towards her so there was no space left.

"And, that's why I'll rise above you each time." She said, proudly, holding her head high. For some reason, that made me smile. The way she stood up for herself was admirable.

Clarisse looked like she about to hit her this second. But was stopped.

"HEY, HEY! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?" Mr. D said, walking towards us. Clarisse backed away, turning her glaring eyes away from Selene and now glared at me.

"She can't save you forever." She said, to me walking away with the other kids.

Mr. D, shook his head and walked away too.

I felt a tug on my shirt and turned to see Selene now in front of me. "Percy how would you like to be on I and Annabeth's team for capture the flag?" I looked into her eyes and froze.

"S-sure." She squealed, and laced our fingers running us to a different direction.

"Let's practice then."

[roseinyoursaltwater]

So I don't change much when it comes to the warriors themselves. I'll update in a different post, I haven't planned out to much lore hahahah. Most of this is just like phrases or books or stuff like that pertaining to the story. (PLEASE NOTE - I am not religious and my knowledge on religion is either ancient civilizations or what I've been exposed to which is Christianity. I do apologize) ALSO - I obviously don’t support some of the standards listed below but like I’m creating a sexist religion for plot sooooo)

Phrases

• Oh My Irene - Oh My God (Same as cannon), I feel this would change names depending on the region you're in. But Irene is the main one used) (ie, regions who ship Esmund would use his name and Irene's interchanging)

• Holy Divine - Jesus Christ (I made this up. I think it's funny hehe)

Books

• The Divine is the main book which covers the life of Irene and her wars, sayings and just life. This book is widely used in Ru'Aun. It has been altered over the years

• each region has books that paint their gods in good light. Though characters in different regions aren't exposed to those books.

• They are unknown books, "lost to time" that depict the wider picture of those years of history (they probably live in Hyria's attic let's be honest) (she probably wrote them, let's be honest)

Desired Traits and Standards/Culture in Ru'aun Based on Religion

• Giving, helping your family, neighbors and foes. It's a huge part of the religion. Irene is seen as the matron and so you must be as understanding as possible. This message is slowly lost overtime.

• Purity. Mostly enforced by places like O'Khasis. Purity is a huge fixation on the religion. Whether it's sexual or with ideas or violence. You're expected to only do "dirty" things when needed

• motherhood is heavily emphasized. Caretaker, nurture, protect. Women are seen as these bringers of life who radiate kindness and love their children.

• Violence being needed. Only take lives when needed and when there is no other way out. Try to be diplomatic. O'Khasis and other powerhouses disregard this.

• The standards of giving allow for good trade amongst the land. O'Khasis uses this standard to mooch off of it's civilians by taking as much as they can from them. Other places like Meteli or Phoenix Drop take this saying to heart

• Saving yourself for marriage and being a homemaker is emphasized greatly to the higher classes of wealthy villages and kingdoms

• Occults like Werewolves and Meif'was are looked down upon, mostly by powerhouses. O'Khasis deems Meif'was as immature and that their magicks aren't "beautiful" like Irene's - that they're naive. Werewolves are seen as barbaric and their polyamory is frowned upon.

• Shadow Knights are hated in the region. Valued by power houses for their strengths. They are usually killed on sight in villages and strong followers of the Divine will kill themselves when brought back as Shadow Knights due to the disgust at themselves.

• All powered beings besides the Jury are looked down upon. Even if used for their strengths. Places like O'Khasis doesn't value their humanity.

[turbulenthandholding]

The Bear Season 3 Musical Speculation: Sydcarmy Edition

After all of the discussion of what songs from Monster could end up in The Bear season 3 last week, I have been inspired to take a look at R.E.M.'s other albums to speculate which song (or songs) might pop up in The Bear season 3.

I'm going to do it in three parts: this one, which is focused on Sydcarmy (and extrapolating what song could pick up where Strange Currencies leaves off), followed by two additional parts - general songs and a totally unserious third part.

There has been a lot of excellent meta about how, with the panic attack scene in s2e9, Strange Currencies actually ends up being a Sydcarmy song.  (This post by @myloveismineallminee is a great example, as are this post by @chansoooo1-blog, this post by @bellassima, and others)

In thinking about season 3 and the importance that R.E.M. songs have played in the show so far, it makes sense to me that they will carry forward what they have been indicating about Carmy and Sydney’s relationship:

these words, you will be mine

these words, you will me mine, all the time

But using another R.E.M. song that is an emotional sequel to Strange Currencies.  Strange Currencies is, as @thoughtfulchaos773 says here, a song about wooing (see tags especially). These are the songs that I think could be that and make (at least some) sense to continue and expand upon that in a season 3 arc.

My seven song ideas follow - definitely interested in hearing what people think!

Be Mine (New Adventures in Hi-Fi)

@thoughtfulchaos773 has posted about this one before here and I agree.

Mike on Bus version from 25 year anniversary edition (this one is even lovelier than the original Album version)

It’s a little obsessive, and totally focused (I need your focus like you need mine), and fits a potential deepening of their relationship.  The lyrics of the whole song apply, but to choose a section:

you and me, you and me

you and me, you and me

and if you make me your religion

I'll give you all the room you need

I'll be the drawing of your breath

I'll be the cup if you should bleed

Hairshirt (Green)

Album version

A hairshirt is a very uncomfortable shirt made of animal hair that would be worn as a self-imposed form of penitence to self-punish or repent something, for religious reasons.  To me, Hairshirt is a song about letting go of the things that you have used to punish yourself (or held over yourself or others’ expectations or any number of other things) to be able to embrace a relationship with someone.  This fits their story to me in that both are working through grief and past trauma; they likely will need to let some of it go to be able to fully embrace each other.

And hang your hairshirt on the lowest rung

It’s a beautiful life

And I can hang my hairshirt

Away up high in the attic of the wrong dog’s life chest

Or bury it at sea

All my life, I’ve searched for this

Here I am, here I am

In your life, it’s a beautiful life

My life, it’s a beautiful life

Your life

You’re In The Air (Up)

Album version

The lyrics of this one are a little more generic, but it does feel like something of a follow-on thought to Strange Currencies.

Key lyrics:

You wanted a challenge that’s calling you higher

I landed on my feet by crawling

I remember standing alone trying to forget you, idling

I hate to admit that that’s my reference point

But there it is, you say you want me

I’m what you found, I’m upside down

You’re in the air, you're in the air, and I am breathing…

You Are The Everything (Green)

Album version

I have posted about this before - and it’s kind of a nice call back to the line in s1e3 Brigade when Carmy tells Syd, “you, you are everything else.”

I interpret this song a bunch of different ways, not all of them romantic, but I think it does make sense in a romantic context here, especially with the kitchen lyric (especially knowing the way that Storer and Senior have no qualms about cutting songs at the points where the lyrics make the most sense to the story they are trying to tell - see also: In Too Deep by Genesis in s1e3 Brigade as well as Strange Currencies, in the panic attack scene in s2e9.

Key lyrics:

I think about this world a lot and I cry

And I've seen the films and the eyes

But I'm in this kitchen 

Everything is beautiful

…

You are here with me

You are here with me

You have been here and you are everything

Perfect Circle (Murmur)

Album version; this live version has me by the freaking throat

Perfect Circle is a gorgeous love-ish song; Michael Stipe has said the song is about longing in a relationship but that it could mean lots of different things. a perfect circle of acquaintances and friends speaks to the found family aspect of The Bear. It’s about the vibes to me for this one; depending on how it could be used it could mean many, many different things, including love.

Key lyrics:

Put your hair back, we get to leave

Eleven gallows on your sleeve

Shallow figured winner's paid

Eleven shadows way out of place

Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room

Me, Marlon Brando, Marlon Brando and I (Collapse Into Now)

Album version

Me, Marlon Brando, Marlon Brando and I is a song about heroes and idolization.  I’m not exactly sure that it’s relevant for season 3 but it does feel like it is a song relevant to Sydney and Carmy.  Certainly by this point in their personal and professional relationships, any blinders she had about him as someone followed his career, are gone.  He’s very much a real person to her and she definitely sees him in his entirety rather than someone to be held up on a pedestal.  It’s probably not super likely for season 3, but I feel like there’s a least a little bit of a through line here and wanted to mention it.

Key lyrics:

Sift through the annals of our flavored times

Our heroes and all their fatal flaws

Me, Marlon Brando, Marlon Brando and I, sing

Lay me down, down, down, down

Lay me down, down, down, down, down

Help me off to sleep

Take me deep again

Animal (In Time)

Album Version 

This one is admittedly a little out there as a suggestion.  But there's something to me about Carmy’s mental state at the end of s2e10 (“I'm a fucking psycho.  That's why, that's why I'm good at what I do.”) that really speaks to his inner animal, but then adding into that the way that the table scene in S2E9 sets his and Syd’s relationship (in all of its facets) apart and as something that helps instead of hurts his focus…it feels like this song brings both of those elements together.  

Key lyrics:

Hey, what's the big deal?

Tell me how to feel?

I know where we boomeranged and fell from grace

Point me to the stars

I'm up for the chase

I know where we fell on our face

Jump with me, you jump with me

…

I am vibrating at the speed of light

Take my hand, we'll wind up the night

Spin me, win me, lift me, kiss me

Trip me, trust me, cuss me, judge me

Touch me now, you take my hand

You trust me now, you understand

So, what's the big deal-

I'm an animal

(The answer landed on my rooftop. Whoa.)

I'm an animal

(The future and the truth, on my rooftop. Whoa.)

I'm an animal

(It's calling me to work it out.) (Whoa)

I am vibrating at the speed of light

[marciabrady]

Sorry if you've already answered something like this before but I'd like your thoughts on cinderella 3? As a huge cinderella fan I can see the appeal it has to the wider audience but idk I've never gelled with it?

No worries! I'm in the same boat as you, for a multitude of reasons. I still remember, when I saw the third movie for the first time, thinking it was okay but then never wanting to watch it again. Something about it didn't ring true, but it just wasn't on my mind much and I never felt compelled to revisit it (as opposed to the original which I rewatched on a daily basis at a certain point of my life). Then, later, as an editor, I returned to it to continue engaging with the Cinderella fandom by giffing things that hadn't been made before. I tried to admire it for a while, because that film brought many people to Cinderella that otherwise didn't like her but...the more I sit with it, the more I realize how much it isn't for me. Now, it isn't that it's bad. That's a subjective thing, obviously, and it has a comparatively higher production value for a film of its kind. However, I think the way the film presents itself as blending with canon is extremely flawed and I think it's led the fandom to a lot of conclusions that I'm downright uncomfortable with. It's fine as its own thing, but I'm growing increasingly uneasy with it being considered a canonical part of the fandom.

Cinderella herself. No adaption of Cinderella ever gets Cinderella right (the live action is the worst offender) but I think, in some ways, it's more glaringly obvious here because it's supposed to be a direct continuation of the one media that did get Cinderella right? No one could ever live up to Ilene Woods' Cinderella, and I know that's an impossible assignment, due in no small part to how natural she was in the role and how it overlapped with certain areas of her personal life. Jennifer Hale is fine enough but her performance doesn't ever feel distinctly Cinderella and seems more suited for the video game performances that she's amassed a ton of critical and commercial success with. While she's given interesting responses regarding her view of Cinderella, I don't think I'd trust her with carrying the mantle (again, she's said intelligent things but she downplays Cinderella by insinuating she was limited in the first movie and how her own portrayal is more of a 'warrior' and how Cinderella is everyone's favorite princess until they grow up and 'rightfully' start to like more action oriented princesses). The film itself doesn't even understand Cinderella and just gives her a Belle and Ariel redesign, along with a soaring Broadway song where they completely change her singing style. It also changes her entire motivation to be fighting for love (a step back and not how she was in the original, I also think it lends credence to criticisms saying she's silly for only falling in love after one dance unfortunately whereas the original, in my opinion, didn't fall into that trap) and there's so many instances where they frustratingly make her slow ("Lift the spell- make him remember!! Bi- ahh!!"). I also think she's relegated to a side character in her own film and Anastasia is treated infinitively better, which is an issue to me. I also hate how they robbed her of her greatest victory. Cinderella producing the slipper and being her own savior might be my favorite scene in film history. Taking that away from her and making her openly stumble in front of Lady Tremaine, someone who just locked her in the attic and abused her her entire life, was...a choice. Just like her almost handling her *glass* slipper to Lady Tremaine, only for it to be broken, was. It just made her look dense and the entire thing came across as un-cohesive with what was previously established. Like, I'm sorry but...

This Cinderella was so raw, so layered, gritty, real. She grew up in an abusive household with no resources, skillfully masterminding her own exit. She understood the nuances of her captor, and always kept one trick up her sleeve. When she descended upon the staircase, she made her way through her stepfamily actively discouraging her- an orphan with no one else in the world- to the visiting nobility. They called her ridiculous, impossible, out of her mind, just a scullery maid from the kitchen- an imaginative child. She made her way past them, knowing that- if the grand duke believed them or left or if any detail of her plan fell through- she'd forever be stuck with these three women that would practically kill her once the door shut. But she persisted, and even when Lady Tremaine thought she was the one with the trick up her sleeve, smashing the glass slipper, Cinderella pulled a reverse uno and produced something no one else thought possible- the slipper's mate. Compare that to...

The third movie where Cinderella has to run down the stairs, escaping from her attic entrapment, and waves around her glass slipper in front of her stepmother, explaining to her in full detail that transpired the night previously at the ball, putting herself in a position that 4 seconds later allowed Lady Tremaine to crash that slipper and gaslight her into forgetting. Like...why??? I have so many issues with the way Cinderella is depicted in the film, but we'll leave it here (not even going to get into why people only like her in this version more because she displays more masculine strength by "fighting" and being physically combative which...again, there's more than one way to be strong and the fact that they tried to make her just like any other modern Princess is disappointing to me).

The Anastasia problem. This is something that only continues to upset me more and more as time goes by. In the original film, it's established that Anastasia actively abused Cinderella for the better part of her life. She taunted her, lead to Cinderella being punished multiple times, and blocked off Cinderella's escape or pursuit of a healthy life so many times. The way she's enabled the cycle of abuse to continue and actively, not only participated it but, spearheaded it on a few occasions, explains to us why she's the antagonist. I think it's dangerous that she appears in such a sympathetic light, especially without ever once offering a substantial apology to Cinderella. All of Anastasia's actions in this film, too, are completely self-motivated and I just think it lead to this trend where a lot of people see Anastasia as the protagonist (because she has the most screentime in this movie) and I just think it's poor form to sympathize with an abuser and, frankly, a dangerous moral to espouse. Like, even in the finale where they show Cinderella trying to reason with Anastasia is so toxic. Someone who's been on the receiving end of an irrational abuser's whims their entire life should never try to reason because "they know a good person is there, deep down." And I've seen a lot of people call them "sisters" and talk about how Anastasia had it worse than Cinderella because she's considered conventionally unattractive...which. I could write essays about this and how it's projection, but physical beauty doesn't go that far in this universe. Walt even had an animator redrew Anastasia's smile to be more attractive because he wanted all the characters to be somewhat sympathetic in favor of realism, as opposed to 'all good' and 'all bad.' Again, in this universe, the Prince sees an endless line of beautiful women in amazing clothing so that isn't what attracts him to Cinderella. However, I do think it's worth noting that Cinderella ceases to exist in her society when she doesn't appear 'eligible' by having markers of wealth. She's symbolically stripped of her dignity and hidden away, all of her opportunities taken from her. You know who never suffers that lived experience? Anastasia and Drizella. They're slovenly, over-privileged, and completely self-motivated and this sudden rewrite that they're poor victims because, in our world, they wouldn't be seen as beautiful and that qualifies them for a more traumatic upbringing than an orphan they helped abuse is ridiculous to me.

The disregard for the original characterizations. There are so many things here that just don't make sense. In the original, the King was hellbent on getting grandchildren and even displays a delightful meta commentary multiple times (when it's touched on how ridiculous it is that the Prince would marry any girl that fits the slipper, since that's been a critic of the original story, the King shrugs off that his son said it in a lovesick stammer and sees this as an opportunity to get those grandchildren "that's his problem; he's given his word, we'll just hold him to it). All of a sudden, this King is telling his son it's ridiculous to marry a girl who wears a size 4 1/2 and that's no reason to choose a bride??? And is showing Anastasia his late wife and trusting the clumsiest person I've ever seen with a delicate seashell? OKAY. Not only that, but just so many things that made the original characters unique are eroded so they can be like every other Renaissance character. Like, Lady Tremaine was such a great villain because of her presence and charisma and her cunning virtue. To omit all of that and how her waving around a magic wand and yell Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo was unnecessary.

Too much mice. I know many feel that way about the first film, but I think they were skillfully intertwined. It was way too much here and there was no place for them.

The art design and color palette is more gaudy and unappealing to me. I could keep going but lol

[katyspersonal]

3, 18, 24, 29, 32 for Mico :3

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

3) What first drew you to this character?

Like I said, my first introduction to Micolash was his theme song, paired with a concept art image of him since it was on Youtube. And I already was instantly captivated! My initial impression was that for some reason he was a helpless puppet, and I wanted to know of what exactly! So I've caught up on his lore.... and was sorely disappointed, because back then Fromsoft barely giving information was a novelty for me XD Still, I appreciated the madness, and the mystery. I was really impressed as he felt like someone on much higher level of knowledge, in NO way I felt like he was "silly" or "a joke" x)

18) Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

Both! Imagining him laugh genuinely, not in madness, is one of my most comforting fantasies... ;-; I love seeing him peaceful, happy and, of course, loved! At the same time, I enjoy depictions of him recollecting his humanity only to collapse in tears and horror. Reflecting on how far everything has gone, on the people he had lost (usually Rom), on having lost himself..

24) Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

This is... a heavy question. Micolash used to frequent my dreams. There is a whole saga about it, in a way, ahaha! I think my very first dream about him truly bound us. I dreamed about being Rom (even before I knew or created anything about her), walking on the water surface of the lake but it had water lilies, and seeing Micolash's back turned as he was praying. I tried to reach out to him and call him, but got absolutely ignored, then I looked down in the water and realised that although "I" perceived myself as a girl, I in reality became a spider. Realisation made me wake up, strangely with extreme nausea and thirst, even if I was not sick or poisoned.

But there were many other dreams a while later after that one. In this order: he invaded my average nightmare about my stepdad saying 'she is ours now' to him; him pulling me down into the sea to drown; him deceiving me with "loving me back" whereas he was hypnotising me to follow into apparently a trap (sort of an attic full of dust, books and mirrors) and I woke up when I snapped out of trance; the dream where he kept tormenting me by putting me through death by Frenzy over and over yet I kept respawning and unable to change my situation, and once I found a Sedative that was my only chance to get out of the 'loop' I've given it to a mother whose child kept suffering the same fate. When he saw it, he spared me and teleported me into a bed to have a rest... while he was very, very harshly scolding me for being "too obsessive" and weirding HIM out, that I was too much for HIM, and that he'd never love me and I was nobody for him?

And the last one in this 'line' was when I was little again, in my room, in the time where a very particular trauma happened to me. Except, it was full of the same fog as Nightmare of Mensis, and Micolash was there, offering to undo it...? Unfortunately, it didn't happen, but I appreciated the offer. Ironic that THE nightmare man would offer to stop my nightmares (or rather, take control over them, as "lesser evil"). And, of course, don't forget semi-regular Micolaurence dreams!

29) Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

I DO! And sometimes not for a good reason. It is like an instinct! xD Like, at times I am unable to take the joke about him being "just silly unwashed unhinged failure wet cat" fsdhfhds I am dead serious, I actually sometimes pout and want to write a long essay on how WELL AKTUALY he is very complicated and deep and messed up character! This is why other simps don't like talking to me anymore fhshdfshfs

The most defensive I've ever gotten about him was when an anon complimented an artist that (deliberately) prettified Micolash because they liked "aesthetic" or whatever. Anon praised the artist for "fixing" the "ugly" character, without exaggeration, and for making him "actually attractive" :/ But you've been there with me, you've gotten mad at that anon with me, you remember. Saying that someone made the non-conventionally attractive character aKtUaLLy lOoK GuD by replacing him with idealised version true to one's own preferences in appearance.. You know how Gehrman haters say that 'Doll is prettyfied idealised version of Maria crafted to his tastes that in no way reflects Maria's actual vibe'? I think as hard as I cringed at that moment, but in the end, I am able to understand how Gehrman haters feel when gamerbros simp for Doll!

So yeah, after realising that I have this problem of getting too defensive over integrity of my favs, including appearance, I have to restrain myself and rationalise. For example, 'maybe he used to look much prettier and healthier in Byrgenwerth times!' is reasonable! I just... won that trait in 'unlikeable' autistic fan traits lottery. You know, that one. That, if left unattended, will surely one day make the fan completely alone. As anyone is scared of telling them anything in fear of being "corrected". With only the characters they so-much-cherished to keep them company now. What a sad fate. I am sure there will be a better use for it one day than acting as though fictional characters have human rights sighhhhh....

32) If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

Well, look at this man, he never eats anything anymore because he's too focused on his research, so ANY meal would be good for him x) But greenish skin tone instantly makes me think of iron deficiency, so I would offer him chickpea spinach curry!

Thank you for asking!!

[funkyratman]

Now it’s Your Turn🫵 Hand us your Hollow Knight hcs🔫 (if you’d like)

Omg so ok. Most of my headcanons are more focused on worldbuilding than individual characters but!! That’s okay because I still have a decent chunk of them for individual characters thanks to trying to figure out their storylines for a fic I’m writing, I’ll try not to repeat any that you also said lol cause there was a decent bit of crossover

General context that’s sometimes relevant for the character specific headcanons -

The way aging and growing is a little different, for bugs that experience complete metamorphosis they do still have that but instead of as the transition between child and adult it happens at like. Pre-school or early elementary school age just depending on how capable the larvae were. Something similar happens for bugs that have incomplete metamorphosis, they still get the big final molt that would mark the transition from childhood to adulthood but here it happens like at the start of puberty. Just because I think it’s easier to give characters childhoods when their experience isn’t ‘oh I was a grub for 18 years and then I became an adult :3’.

When it comes to inter-species reproduction if they’re in the same order it works (I’ll probably go more in depth on how I think it works in another post)

Zote -

I absolutely subscribe to nosk Zote, because it’s fun of course but also because it adds texture. This fucking guy is a nosk?? Wonderful.

Emilitia -

Honestly, I don’t think her life pre and post infection changed much. She says that she was already a social outcast before the infection, no real reason to go outside. Undoubtedly she’s from a wealthy family, they would probably still support her financially even if they didn’t talk about her (think ‘madwoman in the attic’) so she just kinda stayed home all day.

Oh she is spiteful, she absolutely despised the rest of the upper class bugs, both for excluding her and just in general even before, full of grudges and repressed rage.

The flowers were something she kept before the infection, but since the infection started she saw no purpose in keeping them in her pots. It was very satisfying to watch them take over the room.

Cloth (& Cicadas) -

Ok important context for Cloth. I think Cicadas do in fact in the context of hollow knight have wings. Cloth didn’t lose hers in a battle or anything dramatic, they just didn’t harden right after she molted. The lower parts had to be removed but she still has the tops, just partially hidden under her clothing.

She and Nola grew up together, and Nola was the one to suggest they leave to adventure. They were on their way to Hallownest together when Nola died, and Cloth wanted to at least finish the journey for her.

She knows how to sew specifically because she picked Cloth as her name and what kind of Cloth can’t sew?

Tiso (& ants) -

Ok so to me ant queens are definitely higher beings. Their society works similar to actual ants in that the queen lays all the eggs and reproductives go off to start new colonies. Workers are her followers and very much not higher beings themselves.

He made basically a whole new identity after he left the colony (not in small part because leaving the colony meant being able to transition), doubtful anyone he knew back then would recognize him now

He’s absolutely horrible with geo nobody let this man touch money

Anyways to me Hallownest is inside a mountain with dirtmouth in a crater at the top. The wastes are the sides of the mountain.

[fizzingwizard]

are you ready xD for some self-indulgent screenshots of the house Moomin builds in my snufmin ficlet from some months ago, A Promise of Snow, which I tried my best to reproduce in the Sims

Some game-related limitations: I just couldn't make the house as small as it should be. It really should be more square than rectangular. The light wood is Snufkin's "alcove" (which is an addition, not an alcove xP) and it should be half that size. And the upper floor should be just a dormer, not a whole floor, but my sims needed space upstairs.

The porch was meant to stretch all the way across, but I didn't like how it looked. In sims if your house is too boxy it ends up looking stupid. Same reason why it's more cluttered. Overall I like how th build came out though. I was so patient, waiting for my game to hit autumn before I took pics hahah.

Interior and extras under the cut.

The inside of the alcove. I love, love love love the window. Just imagine sleepy Snufkin curled up in this bare, cold room under the window...

Entry to the main house. Little rustic dining table. Homemade, hand-painted furniture. Moominmamma's influence in the kitchen. Mouse hole caused some theatrics in game lol

Through the archway into the living room. This is pretty much just how I imagined. The piano, though, is a game-only touch. Gotta give your sims things to do or they play video games on their phones aaaall day, even if you gave them the "hates video-gaming" trait. Lovely fireplace, although it's too grand, but none of the smaller ones really had the right vibe.

And a delicious looking autumnal spread - party food? :3

The ending scene when it starts to snow ^^- I just love the lighting and wish my computer could handle Sims at higher graphics settings...

Some extras!

Bedroom - in my idea for the fic, the bed is a pull-out couch and upstairs is just a small attic with not much in it. But in game things take more space and I definitely didn't want the murphy bed. So I made a bedroom upstairs and based it on how I decorated Moomintroll's room in my Moominhouse build.

Piano nook because it may have nothing to do with the story but it is so pretty.

Picnic! Idea that I stole after salivating over plantsimsgirl builds

Of course the house is by the sea. It's meant to be kind of high up on a hill, with a bit of a winding walk down to the shore and some trees in the way. But I love this lot in Windenburg and it's really too small to do a lot of terrain editing, so we just imagine.

And a sweet November evening moment of snufmin <3

I had a lot of fun building this instead of you know doing other more important things xP But you can't imagine the difficulty I had shooing neighbors away. (Because this is a generic lot, not residential/rental, so the public can just come in.) I didn't want a fence because snufmin!!! so I had to keep putting dressers in front of the doors when I took photos to keep people out hahaha

[dreamyautumns]

Borrower Yoshizawa and Human Amamiya fic here we go :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the attic of a café, in a small crevice near a table, a small head peeked out into the light. A tiny figure, no bigger than someone's thumb, ducked out the crack in the wall and looked up.

"Ok! I need to go grab some snacks for today, so... I think I saw the human leave a package of crackers on top of that desk over there."

Sumire, a Borrower, quietly exited her hiding spot and looked up at her ladder made from loose staples and chips of wood. She grabbed hold of the makeshift platforms and slowly began to haul herself up to the top of the desk.

~

When she reached the desk, she hid behind a giant hammer and peered over it. There was one more cracker left on the desk, which was lucky for her. She could easily take it without the human noticing, right?

Sumire leapt over the hammer and bent down to pick up the giant snack. "I hope the human doesn't mind if I take this..." Sometimes, Sumire wondered if the human ever noticed if some of his things ever went missing.

Just as she went to break the cracker apart, she could hear distant footsteps. The human was coming back, and Sumire was still out in plain sight. She quickly finished stuffing as many pieces of the cracker in her makeshift bag as she could and quickly turned to her ladder.

"Hmm?"

Sumire could feel something staring at her - rather, some*one*- from behind. She froze in place as footsteps drew closer to her location.

*Please go away, please forget I was ever in here...!* she prayed.

It didn't work.

In that instant, a cold, dark shadow stretched over her. Sumire whirled around as a gigantic, monstrous hand began to cover her body. She did the only thing she could do in that moment; she screamed.

~

Sumire's screams were muffled by whoever had grabbed her between giant fingers. She desperately looked for a way out of this mess, but she couldn't deny reality; she had been caught by the human.

The human brought her higher into the air. Sumire's body was shivering as the whiplash from the rising air could be felt across her entire body. She desperately clung to one of the giant's fingers, hoping for even an instant, she'd be ok.

When she could feel she had stopped moving, the digits encasing her slowly lowered. She was sitting in the palm of the giant human, her heart pounding and her breath racing. Sumire turned around to see giant, silver eyes staring down at her. She screamed again and covered her face, shaking like a leaf.

"I-I'm so sorry! Please don't hurt me! Please, oh please!" she begged. Tears began to form in her eyes as she pleaded to be spared.

The human began to speak, his voice deep and thunderous. "Please, don't be afraid. It's ok... I promise."

Sumire stopped shaking as much and slowly lifted her head. The silver eyes that stared down at her were not full of danger, but rather, they were comforting. The giant's gaze softened instantly as Sumire looked at him. She was no bigger than his thumb.

"Y-you won't hurt me?" she asked, voice shaking intensly.

"No, don't worry." The giant's voice dropped to a whisper. "I've never seen you before. What's your name? And what exactly ARE you?"

Sumire placed her hands down on the human's palm, her heart rate slowing. "I-I'm Sumire... Sumire Yoshizawa. I'm a Borrower."

"My name's Ren Amamiya. You'll be ok, Sumire. I promise." Ren lifted his index finger on his other hand and gently pat her on the head. The tiny stopped for a moment, then slowly exhaled.

She was certain that this human would bring her no harm. Her fear began to dissipate as Ren looked down at her.

"I didn't mean to make you cry, Sumire. Were you scared?" He took his pinkie and moved it beneath her cheek, slowly wiping her tears.

"I w-was. I was just trying to find some food and... I'm sorry. I was stealing."

"Well, if you're a Borrower, you're borrowing, right? Even if you don't give it back, I wouldn't mind. Whatever you need, I'll get it for you."

Sumire was in shock. Why was Ren being so nice to her?

"Are you lonely?" Ren asked.

Sumire looked up at his gentle eyes. "Lonely?"

"I can be your friend."

The tiny's eyes lit up. "I've never had a friend... let alone a human. I was always so afraid you'd come after me if I exposed myself."

"But I'm glad I did find you. You'll be ok, Sumire. I'll gladly be your friend if you'll have me."

Sumire smiled. "I'd love that!"

[thesaddestsadboi]

Entry Four: Horn of Jurgen Windcaller

Alright, feet, time to get up and get a move on! Upon waking up, there was a scrap of paper flying about in the wind. After looking like an idiot for five minutes, I finally caught ahold of it. It looked to be a page from a journal detailing something called Aethernautics. I would have to look into this later. My pile of quests were starting to pile up and I had no idea when I'd be able to deal with it all.

We had gotten back to Riften a few hours later and I was stopped by a courier, who gave me three letters. One from a Mandyn Hlaalu requiring my assistance in Riverwood. The second from Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath, asking for my aid. And the last was an unsigned letter asking for me in Winterhold. Looks like word spreads quickly of my title of Dragonborn.

Anyway, back to the task at hand. My party and I spoke with the carriage driver and made our way over to Morthal, as it seemed to be close to Ustengrav. Inside were your typical bandits and draugr. The bandits and necromancers were easily overwhelmed by the undead, serves them right, honestly.

Continuing through Ustengrav, there was a familiar wall structure inside with the dragon tongue written on it. I absorbed the knowledge of the word of power, like I have done in the past and we went along on our journey.

There was some sort of speed puzzle across the bridge. Seemed simple enough, thanks to my Whirlwind Sprint shout. As I passed each of the stones, they glowed a brilliant red color. Just as I ran through the last stone, I shouted and made it through the gates before they closed. When finally on the other side, all three gates opened back up to allow my companions a way through.

We were finally at the end when we found no horn, but a sword. My party grumbled about stinking of draugr for days and no horn to show for it. I could hardly blame them, as I was also peeved at the absence of the Horn.

In the palm of the hand was a note from a mysterious writer, claiming to have the Horn. It would take all of my power to not shove my swords into the spine of whoever made us waste all this time.

With our mood severely dampened, we made our way back over to Riverwood, like the note directed. On our way to the inn, we were stopped by two cultists who attacked us.

Once dead, I looted their corpse and found a note, asking for my death in the name of their leader, Miraak.

Apparently, they came from a place called Solstheim, which is an island north of Morrowind, if I recall correctly. I would have to speak to the captain of this Northern Maiden and find out more later. After all, I'm already on a quest. I don't need to juggle this on top of the journey I'm already on.

Inside the Sleeping Giant Inn, I spoke with the innkeeper, asking for the attic room as discussed in the note. Apparently, there was no attic room, which made my blood boil even more. Was this "friend" just here to waste my time?

In the room directed to me, the innkeeper had followed me inside. Turns out, she was the "friend" discussed in the note. I reached for my blade, but stopped. What good would come of killing her? She clearly has information I need and she could prove useful.

She told me to follow her, then close the door. After following her directions, she open a secret passage being a wardrobe. Clever, yet paranoid. I shook my head and followed her down the steps.

Once down the steps, that was when she dropped important information onto me. Not only were dragons returning, they were coming back to life. At first, it seemed like a silly idea. But, she explained to me that she was looking at, now empty, dragon burial sites. What other answer would explain their burial sites being empty?

She said our next stop was Kynesgrove, but I had to finally deliver the Horn to the Greybeards. After all, they were my teachers. They were the ones who could teach me more about my abilities. So they were of higher importance to me.

The journey was long, but we had finally made it back to High Hrothgar. Our feet were killing us after the long trek up the mountain again. When inside, I gave the Horn back to the Greybeards. Gods only know what they were going to do with it.

They taught me the final word of power: Dah, for my Unrelenting Force shout. I knew this would come in handy and would be a go-to in my arsenal. Arngier then told me they would speak to me in the dragon tongue.

They did as they said and once done, they seemed surprised. Arngier mentioned that not many could take the combined force of their voices. As for why they'd shout at me, thinking it would kill or injure me, I have no clue. Now I was officially Dragonborn in the eyes of the Greybeards.

Now to prove it to Delphine....

The journey to Kynesgrove was a long one. We had made our way back to Riften and caught a carriage over to Windhelm as that was the closest city to the small village.

Once there, there was a familiar sight. A black and red dragon overhead. I got flashes of the sight at Helgen and I grew worried. Was this dragon going to burn down this village too?

I finally caught up with Delphine and the two of us witnessed the dark dragon raise another dragon from the dead. Great! A necromancer dragon! All we needed....

Sahloknir was the dragon's name, according to the other dragon. We had to kill it before it lay waste to the village below. I rushed out and began attacking it, as the other dragon flew off. Delphine and my party were right at my heels as my blade made contact with the dragon. It had almost slaughtered us, but we were able to put the flying lizard down, hopefully for good.

Upon its death, I sucked up its soul, with Delphine standing there with her mouth agape. She was finally ready to answer all my questions.

Apparently, she was one of the last members of the Blades still alive. I should have guessed, due to all the Akaviri weapons in her hidden room. And a copy of The Rise and Fall of the Blades on the small table. Now that I'm thinking about it, it was obvious from the start.

Her theory was that the Thalmor were behind the dragons coming back. She seemed so sure of it, but I wasn't really following. It would make no sense as there was no proof. Even Xelzaz agreed. This led her to her next task.

We had to get inside the Thalmor Embassy. How we'd do that is a mystery to me, but she said she'd get in under control. She just needed time.

Time was something I've wanted since I was approached by the Companions woman. I needed this time to get stronger and face these dragons. I'm sure Delphine would send word for me once she was ready. So until then, my next priority was the Companions. Something told me that they'd be my way of getting physically stronger.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thanks for reading, I greatly appreciate those who do! This one was a small one due to being the conclusion of Act 1 of the Main Quest. As mentioned above, I will be completing the Companions questline next!

Also, sorry for my lack of posting the last two days. Tuesday was just an off day for me. And Wednesday was my partner's birthday, so we went out and celebrated.

[journallingweeks]

feelings

My feelings towards my family members are so complex that I feel I'll live to deeply regret saying them out loud if anything were to happen to those family members, but not saying them or voicing them I believe, after reading, is literally bad for my health.

My complex relationship with my mom: I feel she is solely focused on her own life and our relationship is similar to that of really good friends - her love language is gifts, as is mine, so when she does this for me I am deeply deeply touched, and feel guilty for everything I've ever said. But at the same time, growing up we weren't given nutritious dinners - most nights we were getting food from the Deli or Joop - I often remember my uniform being stained and having a pile of clothes that I couldn't face on my bedroom floor - she could grow cold or distant when she was upset and could snap unexpectedly - she let me down a lot during college, when my friend died, or when everyone else's parents drove up often and sent up meals or made a fuss of their 21st, or helped them to learn to drive or encouraged them to begin at least - she knew I worked 40 hour weeks during the summers to pay for fees, whilst on 65 grand a year - finding out she had been purposely hiding this info from me, because in turn, I'd realise how far away we were from government funding, something I was trying to organise out of desperation for weeks. In college I sat in our year head's office crying because I had found out that day that my fees were going to be €200 more and that amount of money was colossal to me at the time- and I realised I simply couldn't pay them and had no-one to turn to. €200. It hurts that she hasn't shown much interest in seeing my bf's place that I'm moving into, or the attic in my sisters two summers ago that I spent weeks of my life renovating. It hurt when I came home from travelling for 3 months and the fridge was empty. It hurts to think how freely she'd bitch about my dad, taking full reign to turn us against him - realising in hindsight how skewed that perspective is - the hoarding being a massive issue that she won't face. Making out to be a monster and attempting to open up about my parent's sex lives which is so ridiculously out of my depth and something I'd literally hate to get into - the fact I even need to shut that down and tell her its a boundary is bizarre. The fact my sister, was 13 going out with a 19 year old, and when he gets exposed as a sex offender years later, she announces she feels sympathy for him.

the beautiful things about my mom! I love her so much. In some ways I have felt I will probably never love someone as much again. It is unconditional and I literally can not imagine my life without her. I feel like bawling my fucking eyes out when I think of her as a young girl, or on her wedding day or as a 13 year old. Or her relationship with our dog, or how much she'll miss her dad forever. She still wells up when she speaks of him and he died in 2017. She is softly spoken with tiny hands and shoulders. She loves crafts, music, art, scary films, milky tea, fantasy, shopping, going for coffees, her sister. She is a sensitive soul and emotional being. She will surprise me with my favourite lip balms and orders from cult beauty and hot water bottles. She will thoughtfully remember things I've mentioned in passing and loves to surprise. She loves trinkets and things. She has a stack of books higher than her bedside table next to her bed. She loves lavender and lemon. She is more gentle than I'll literally every be, in the way she moves and talks and thinks. She ADORES the cinema and fiction in general - 'anything escapist'. She's a feminist. When I was a teenager, and I had terrible mental health, she really really tried for me. She moved me out of a school I hated and absolutely fucked my least favourite teacher out of it, not only in person but following up with a scathing, well-articulated letter. She encouraged my artistic side by buying me paints and colours every Christmas. She made a massive effort for Christmas to be special - to keep the magic alive in it - we'd go to Blarney Woolen Mills after school and get Butler's hot chocolate there. She'd take us to Fota Christmas even as adults! We'd watch love actually by the fire with the dog. She has a great sense of humour - slightly dark and would throw her head back laughing at things. She has a secret language with her sister seemingly - that they can only understand. She loves to sing and has a beautiful voice. I love her so much. She makes an amazing milky coffee. If someone I met told me I was just like my mom, I would be so flattered. She wearings beautiful craft earrings with a matching printed coat and dress with clogs of some sort - stunning blue eyeliner with the cutest bob haircut and a fringe, always. Sometimes, in casual wear, she'll wear a low tiny bun, gold sleeper earrings and an oversized sweatshirt and it is so effortlessly beautiful. She uses her tiny hands when she's speaking or telling a story. I love her so much

[obeythebutler]

okay so. idea tiem. i am simply yelling my brainwyrms at u here pls enjoy or ingore at ur leisure, rlly is fine either way~

cowardly mc. mc who feels genuinely relatable to like. regular real world people. they are not brave and not dumb and not doing any kind of "standing up" to demons that could kill them. imagine being this mc

you're kinda a loser. you flunk every class at RAD bc of course you do, this is a goddamn Devildom curriculum. satan has to tutor you a LOT (he's testy bc lucifer forced him to do it, and you can tell, which has you scared shitless)

nobody likes you except probably mammon who will simp for any MC no matter what (plus,,, fellow loser energy). but the demons are hot and after being in the HoL for a while, having okay interactions with them, you start. crushing on lucifer.

and hey. lucifer doesn't respect you because you're a coward. okay. you're not stupid, you can understand that. so what if... you COULD be brave? what if you could do something impressive, what if you actually TRIED to demonstrate to him that you're capable of more?

you confess to him that you have feelings for him, and you'd like to go out for coffee or something sometime and - SHUT DOWN. lucifer is distantly polite about it and you are crushed, but accept his rejection as gracefully as you can and run away to cry and nurse your wounds.

because lucifer isn't... being his best self in season 1. he used to be better at connecting to people, listening to them, seeing their potential past their flaws, and trusting them. that's the person his brothers love him for being. bitch used to communicate.

and then the rest of season 1 happens. and things don't go down exactly the same but you have your moments.

lucifer doesn't want you, sure, but there's other hotties, an actual cause of peace between the realms to support, you've made friends, and you're still so so scared but you have a reason to fight past your fears.

and then lucifer realizes he's got a couple weeks to tell you that he loves you, actually.

that watching you grow, watching your cowardly, tearful self trembling with fright and still trying, it feels like Falling in reverse, as if he could rise up to the heavens and higher still

then he sees that look that satan gives you. then mammon catches his eyes, drags him out back where no one can hear.

and tells him in no uncertain terms just how wretched and miserable you felt, just how hard mammon heard you cry when lucifer turned you down.

just how hard it was for you to even approach lucifer in the first place. and mammon's pretty sure you have feelings for satan, but you're too scared to say them now because of someone-

lucifer doesn't want to hear this anymore, but it's too late - and now he has to decide if it really is too late.

Your Courage, My Love

I got carried away with the idea, and here is the result....I really hope I didn't get anything wrong or flew off tangent, but I have acquired the brainworms and they told me to write.

Coward MC and Lesson 16 here! Part 2!

The voice from the attic hasn't stopped bothering you.

It's been three whole months since your stay in the Devildom, and apart from random demons trying to eat you, the mysterious voice from the top of the stairs has not been letting you fall asleep.

You suppose it's tempting.

And yet, you don't want to investigate.

You're wary of many things here—from the food—to the environment. Being thrust into another realm has not been easy, and you find yourself on the verge of crying. The cuisine is strange, to say the least, and Hell Beetle sauce isn't exactly your favourite condiment. Demons in the streets have attempted to "taste your soul," and that is why one of the brothers has to accompany you wherever you go, so that the human exchange studen is kep out of harm. You wanted to scoff, for this is ridiculous that you have to follow one of the brothers like a child, but it is necessary, and you would rather be roped into Mammon's schemes than run for your life. Studies are another chore to be fulfilled, albeit grudgingly.

You can't make sense of the curriculum, for starters.

What you learnt in the human realm is not at all applicable here in this realm. Languages are a pain, even more so when demons around you sneer in their native language, leaving you scared; for you know they are talking about you. And so you stick to the brothers, and try staying out of trouble.

Mammon throws you off tangent sometimes. With his tsundere ways and half-hearted digs at you, you're left confused as to whether he even finds your company enjoyable. But he's not cold at least, unlike Lucifer.

After the introduction to the Devildom by the Prince, you locked eyes with the Avatar of Pride, as you came to know later. A man with a gaze so intense that it made you want to hide from his intimidating form.

And the demon for whom you developed a crush on.

Morningstar, once the most loved by his Father. A being so beautiful and yet so intimidating, who chooses the best for himself. Someone who will be on par with him, with courage and determination that the strongest possess.

You're not brave.

Just a human in the Devildom. Powerless, for most matters, and fearful.

You don't have the courage to stand your ground. You never did, instead choosing to run away from danger at first sight.

When the giant snake was chasing you, or whether when in the underground tomb Lucifer threatened you. Your throat tightens when you think of Luke, utterly terrified, and yet standing with Beel—tall and powerful—who was equally wary of his brother's anger.

And what did you do at the first sign of danger?

Ran away.

Like a fucking coward.

You were so scared, you reminisce, hand underneath your chin. Your knees were trembling, eyes widened and adrenaline rushing through your veins, dreading the prospect of being killed. The humiliation to you was not spared, either, for you could have intervened, and pleaded, the very least, for the demon to think rationally.

You are just a human.

You don't possess magical powers like Solomon, or have the knowledge of any spells or incantations yet.

Your hand still hurts from the time when Lucifer grabbed and squeezed it as a warning, that he would do harm if his brothers were threatened.

You can't even bring harm, let alone try.

You don't even have the courage or the admirable streak of defiance.

All the qualities which the Morningstar possesses.

You wish you had those very qualities in you—confidence and courage—to name a few. All of which the demon has. His virtues had you enraptured, and you found yourself crushing hard.

And again, you can't even talk to the man while looking him in the eye.

The door is the final hurdle to catching Lucifer alone—not the last of many challenges but a beginning.

You'll confess today.

After having gathered up courage from weeks of coaching yourself and nitpicking your appearance, finally having deemed yourself presentable in front of the Avatar of Pride you stand here, in the hallway.

Your heart beats wildly in your chest.

And the familiar tendrils of fear find their way, again.

The urge to run away back to your room and slam the door shut is strong, nearly overpowering your desire to confess. But you persevere, grounding yourself with the knowledge that it is better to take confess here and now than wallow in your feelings, that there is a chance that Lucifer might want you, small if it may be.

You take a deep breath, albeit shaky, and knock sharply on the wood thrice.

The silence that follows is of no help, either.

You stand, waiting, fiddling with your fingers. The worst of assumptions creep into your mind: that he did not hear you or chose not to, that Lucifer might have been asleep and may storm out of the room in a fury as to why you disturbed his rest. Maybe one of the brothers might witness the sight and admonish you for staying up late. Maybe you should retreat back to your room—

"Come in."

"I'm sorry," He says, voice loud and clear. "I'm not interested."

Words die down in your throat. Maybe we could go out for coffee sometime? Whenever you're free?

Cold dismissal fills the room.

It feels like the strength has left your body, your heart sinking into your chest, dampening the courage you had gathered to even step into his room. It shatters the moment he speaks those dreaded words.

The demon looks at you with an unreadable expression, and even in such a situation you admire his ability to appear composed, which you can't muster. Perfection is the normal for Lucifer, who maintains himself to the highest standards, and would desire the same in a partner.

Which you don't have.

You're sure if you open your mouth, what will spill past your lips will be sobs.

"That's alright," You mumble, voice flat and tiny.

It's not alright.

Forcing yourself to swallow the lump in your throat, you clench your fist behind your back. "That's alright. I understand, and I-I," Your gaze falls on Lucifer, who is still eyeing you with cold apathy. "I'll be taking my leave now. See you at breakfast tomorrow."

As soon as the door closes, the first of many sobs spill past your lips.

Small, muffled, insignificant, you slap a hand over your mouth and rush to your room near the kitchen, praying Beel isn't there. Your vision is blurred by tears, and your trembling fingers grab the handle of the door and push, stepping in until the door quietly locks behind you.

This time, the whimpers that spill past your lips are not muffled.

This time, your heart is crushed in the Devildom.

This time, a demon outside the hallway hears your cries.

But the world around you is blurry. You cry and weep, slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle any noise, lest anyone hear. You're sure you'll be taunted, looked down upon.

You were foolish to think you could be loved by Lucifer. It was stupid to even try and gather strength. He deserves and requires the best, which you are not.

You never are. Not here, not on earth.

Your cries continue well into the darkest hour of the night.

You wake up in your bed the next day, tucked under the blankets with your head resting comfortably on the pillow. Groggily, you open your swollen eyes, and realise that your throat is parched.

You don't remember falling asleep in your bed.

And when you finally stand up, thankful for the carpet on the floor that prevents the cold from shocking you first thing in the morning—you squint and stare at the jug of water on the table.

That wasn't there before.

The days are passing by smoothly.

Smoother than before, for time has dulled the pain of the wounds that you acquired on that night. A lot happened, and currently you're in your room with Satan, perched on the bed with a notebook as the blonde demon questions you on Curses and Hexes, sitting besides you.

"There is a relief sculpture at the entrance to the Devildom royal tomb, where demon royalty are laid to rest. What is the sculpture called?"

"Three-legged crow."

"Correct," Satan says, a smile on his face as he nods and turns the page. You wait in anticipation, confident that you will answer correctly whatever he throws at you.

"What was on the Devildom at the time of its existence?"

"Water?"

"Incorrect."

You frown, trying to recollect the information you're pretty sure you had reviewed the night before. There was a ocean, countless miles of water before—

"I've mixed Devildom history and human-world geography," You groan, settling your hand under your chin. "Ugh, this is confusing." Besides you, the demon nods in understanding.

"It can be confusing, but you're learning. See, you even pointed out that your answer was incorrect." Satan soothes, showing you the textbook page, pointed by his index finger to the line where it is clearly mentioned that forests were spread all over the Devildom during the time of its existence. "You've improved. I'm proud."

You smile. "Thanks," You mutter, suddenly wanting to shy away from his gentle gaze. "It couldn't be without you tutoring me."

"I don't mind," Satan says, a twinkle in his eyes.

Some time ago, the blonde demon would have crinkled the page in irritation, fueled by your failure at answering even the most simplest of questions in RAD subjects.

Underneath his calm veneer, you noticed how he would grip the book, sharp nails threatening to reveal themselves. You would tremble; afraid of getting another one wrong in fear of provoking the demon even further, leading to nothing but panic, which has never borne good results. You would attempt to sit as far away as you could from Satan, heart pounding in your ears, studying with the invisible sword of his wrath in front of your neck.

Some days, you would avoid those sessions, leading to extra classes to make up for syllabus lagging behind, and sleepless nights tainted with fear.

But things improved, slowly but steadily.

"Would you mind going to this new cat cafe that opened up recently tomorrow?" Satan asks, voice nearly a whisper. "You've been working really hard, and I'm sure that you will do well on your mid-terms."

"You put too much faith in me," You respond, but agree all the same, excitement thrumming in your veins for the day to come.

"You will perform excellently," The demon affirms, getting up from his spot to place the book on the table. "Sleep well," He says, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Goodnight, MC."

"Goodnight!" You respond, letting yourself fall on the bed.

You close your eyes, the exhaustion of the day sinking into your bones. A three-hour study session has thoroughly drained you, but brought along with it satisfaction. Apart from that, you did not miss any due dates for assignments this week, which would have resulted in staying back, a common occurence for you earlier.

But you have progressed. Slowly but steadily.

It was hard to face Lucifer the morning after. The memory brings a sour taste in your mouth. You could barely look him in the eye, and did not speak much, keeping your eyes trained on your plate. Mammon kept staring at you, though, but you had ignored in favor of not breaking down in front of everyone.

A humiliation you did not want to endure. A weakness you did not want to display.

And some time after, you met the demon in the attic. Who told you stories weaved with pity, and urged you to make pacts. Killed you.

And dealing with the fallout after wasn't easy. Though you suppose that you're an exception, merely because of the fact your survived your own death.

You trembled, hands calmly and adrenaline running through your veins at the mere sight of the seventh-born. You eyed his hands, which he would flex lazily in front of his face, still in the haze of sleep. Those same hands that he wrapped around your neck and choked you.

But you worked through it all.

And these were just some of the many events that you witnessed and partook in, and there are many more to come in the Devildom.

But the only event you're interested is the one tomorrow with Satan.

After weeks of pondering, you've come to the realisation: that you have fallen again for the blonde demon. Satan reminds you of Lucifer, with his body language and mannerism, but he is not him. No, he is Satan, Avatar of Wrath, your tutor and your dear friend.

A lover?

You hesitate, turning over so that you face the wall. The memory brings stinging tears to your eyes, but you blink them away.

You dream of cats and green nail polish.

Lucifer remembers his first flight.

When he was a young angel, still learning the ways of the Celestial realm. With the three pairs of wings gifted to him by Father, it was imperative that his most beloved creation was to learn to fly.

And he did, jumping off from the top of the Celestial Palace, when angels were supposed to sleep. It took time and courage—the former to muster the strength to simply get to the apex of the structure and stand with trembling knees, and the latter to take the plunge.

The wind rushed past his ears, the Sun's rays radiating off his wings.

A mighty flap—moving upwards—against gravity, and Lucifer's laugh could be heard by all.

And this time, it feels as if he could fly higher and higher, closer to the warmth of the Sun that the Devildom can't offer, closer and closer to the salvation he lost.

Lucifer reminisces, hands crossed behind his back as he idly gazes at the scene before him. Belphegor and Beelzebub on either side of you, with Satan behind your shoulder, nearly breathing into your neck, the position which has irritation brewing in the demon. Asmodeus perched on your knee and Mammon nearly hanging off the couch.

A DDD in your hand, a unknown video playing.

It's perhaps the first in a long time that his brothers are able to sit together without squabbling. It's also the first instance where you truly look at peace.

You didn't use to come out of your room. He could hear your footsteps late at night as you creeped into the kitchen to get a glass of water or to grab a book from the library. When he had fetched a book for you from a tall shelf, you had cowered under his gaze, meekly stammering out words of gratitude before rushing back to your room. Like a little lamb.

That time when you had run away from him in the underground tomb, leaving Luke and Beel behind. "Pathetic," He had sneered, wings bristling in anger. Someone who had no courage deserved no respect, and so your value deteriorated in Lucifer's eyes.

And he had rejected you, cold dismissal on his tongue as he watched your expression falter.

He had no feelings for you, back then.

The demon sighs, his shoulders sinking. He walks away from the cacophony of laughter in the room, instead opting to open a bottle of Demonus.

As he pours the beverage, he remembers how he had threatened you. The stairway to the attic was not to be climbed, and the demon was confident enough that magic would have sufficed in hiding his shame.

You had, of course, gone back to your room with the offer of a tea that could make you sleep forever.

He takes a sip of the drink, and finding it to his liking, ever the same as before, settles down on the plush couch, faint chatter a background noise.

But then you revealed that you had seen Belphegor.

Turning into his demon form, brows scrunched together, he had growled, angry and furious.

Lucifer remembers you cowering.

But you did not run away.

You stood there, fists clenched and heart beating wildly, still standing despite his expectation of you running away.

And then you were sent to another timeline.

You were scared, that much Lucifer knew. He takes another swing, each one more longer than the last. Hesitant, but ready to do what was necessary to free his brother.

It was dangerous.

(He had expected you to run, like you always did)

But you said yes, and the last of you he saw back then was the uncertain smile you gave everyone. Lucifer assured himself with the fact that you would return, not questioning why the idea of your absence sent a sinking feeling in his chest.

And, in another timeline, Belphegor threw you down the stairs.

Lucifer's chest tightens at the memory, and he gets up to pour himself another drink. The bruises on your neck, and the harrowing laughter of Belphegor, and the way Mammon cried and begged you to stay awake.

You must have been so scared, he thinks, settling down again. But so would have been Lucifer, if he was in your place. He imagines your panicked expression and grimaces as the demon realises that he was the reason for your fear, most of the time.

How did you even find the courage to forgive? He questions, downing the drink in an action that does not suit the demon's impeccable manners. And, did you even forgive him?

The demon takes another swing, and curses. The glass is empty.

He strides over and picks up an unopened bottle. This time, Lucifer doesn't bother with the glass, merely opening and downing the beverage.

The only time that you and him sat down and talked without any condescending tone or cold contempt from the demon was when he had lost his memories.

You looked so happy, with the smile that only his brothers caused, this time the reason being Lucifer. He remembers joking and laughing together, as if you both were old friends.

His throat tightens as he remembers falling asleep with you and Belphegor in the attic.

You've had enough to drink, He admonishes himself, and sets down the bottle, finding the stinging of tears to sober him up better than any pill. The shine of the dagger flashes in his mind, and brings back the memory of your expression, as you had angled the dagger at your chest with shaky hands

"Stop," He had uttered, dumbfounded and yet in awe.

After regaining his memories, he found you to close off from him again.

His angelic self saw the courage that you had grown to harbor, the way you trembled and shook and still stood your ground—and tried, even if you failed.

The demon saw himself in you.

Fearful, afraid, and yet gathering the courage to rebel. The way his hands shook as he handled the sword, clutching it tightly, and yet trembling, for it was to be used to cause harm to those he knew.

Courage is not the absence of fear.

His past self saw the good in you—that despite your cowardice, you were still trying, still learning, still growing.

That watching your teary eyes gaze at him in fear, when he roared and shouted at you for meeting Belphegor, Lucifer saw that you stood up to him. That you were not what he thought.

But why did he notice it only now?

What was it that he had left behind with his white wings and halo?

Was it empathy?

The demon snarls, and yet he is unable to ignore what is in front of him. Pride blindens.

"No fair! This would have made for the perfect Devilgram post for my blog!"

Asmodeus pouts, in his hands his DDD with a picture of you and Satan, surrounded by cats and tea. There's a cat attempting to squish your cheeks with its paws, and with one arm around the feline and the other around the blonde demon, you both posed for the photo.

"I heard the cakes there were good too," Beel laments, a hand on his stomach despite the fact that he is eating one of Luke's pastries right now.

"We'll go along next time," Satan says, still smiling at the picture on Asmo's phone. "Besides, the kitties there are adorable."

You smile, eyes fixated on the photo as you sit besides Asmodeus. There's a serenity in your expression that Lucifer wishes he could see more, but the scribble of the pen brings him back.

"You've left the previous page blank, haven't you?" Lucifer questions, a stern brow raised at the white-haired demon besides him, who has indeed, skipped the page in favor of getting off earlier.

"I just—I just wanted to see what more was to be left! That's it!" Mammon gulps, turning the page swiftly and putting all attention on the face, which Lucifer knows he is only making a show of.

Leviathan is immersed in his game, with Belphegor asleep in his lap, the soft bleep-bloop noises not as much of a hinderance as the demon had assumed.

It's comforting, even.

But then his catch the expression that Satan has while gazing at you, ignorant to Asmo's comments on the photos in his DDD.

Lucifer's eyes widen.

That same look—the one he had seen in many books and stories. The one which—

"Oi, Lucifer?"

"What?"

"Need you to come outside."

"Why?"

"Just come!"

The urgency in Mammon's voice does not allow Lucifer room to question his intentions, and it's also unnerving to hear the serious tone of his brother's voice, usually so carefree.

He walks along with Mammon, to the balcony. The latter leads on, but Lucifer steals one look at the scene that he's leaving: of Satan's gaze at you, and his bantering brothers.

"Why did you bring me—"

"Cut the crap, Lucifer."

The demon's expression is one of surprise, and then his brows furrow in acceptance.

"What did you want to tell me?" He asks, crossing his arms over his chest, a familiar pose for the demon. Besides him, Mammon leans on the railing, the structure strong enough to withstand. Usually, he would have reprimanded him to not slouch, but he knows that Mammon can fly. And besides, demonic strength is impeccable.

"Did ya even realize how wretched MC felt that night?" Mammon's tone is flat, not even the barest of emotions revealing themselves in his tone. Usually, he would be stammering. But this time, his brother is completely serious. Lucifer gives no reply, instead choosing to stare at the Castle in the distance, refusing to meet his brother's eyes. "They had been mustering up the courage to confess to you for weeks," He continues, staring at his brother. "They barely slept, and I thought you knew, Lucifer."

"Do not taunt me."

"Seriously?" Mammon's expression weaves into one of disbelief. "You're going to just sit there and ignore your mistakes?"

"I am aware," Lucifer snaps, teeth bared in a display of frustration. "I know what I did, and I had a reason."

"Were ya even aware of what it caused?" He questions, disappointed at the sheer ignorance on his brother's behalf. "I thought you knew better, big brother. I thought you knew how hard they cried after you dismissed them that night. I thought you knew how crushed they were."

"How scared they were."

Lucifer's lips form into a thin line. "They fell asleep crying, and it was hard for MC to piece themselves together after you destroyed whatever confidence they had gathered."

"You're blaming me?"

"I am blaming ya, Lucifer, but not for rejecting," Mammon responds, gazing coldly at his brother. "I'm blamin' you for how cold you were."

"I know I was harsh," The Avatar of Pride admits, his shoulders sinking with an invisible weight.

"I'm pretty sure MC has feelings for Satan," He clicks his tongue, shaking his head at Lucifer. "But they won't confess now because of what ya did...."

Any words Lucifer had to speak die down in his throat.

He should be happy that his brother found love. He should be happy that you found love in his brother. He should be happy at his family's happiness, he should—

But Lucifer loves you too.

"What even happened to you, Lucifer?," Mammon says, but his brother isn't listening. "You didn't—Lucifer?"

"Fuck."

It is all that the demon says.

And all that comes to mind.

"I've fucked everything," Lucifer says, running a hand through his hair. "I've ruined everything."

"I know," Mammon says, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But ya can make up for it. Apologise, let—"

"I love MC."

In that moment, Lucifer feels that his heart might burst from his throat.

"You—what—when—"

"I do, and that's all I know."

The look Mammon offers him is one of despair.

"You know that MC might love Satan," He begins, and Lucifer closes his eyes in frustration. "And he might love them too."

The demon's eyes shoot wide open, and he grabs Mammon's shoulder with such tenacity that the white-haired demon nearly shrieks.

"Is it too late?" He nearly screams in despair, the words spilling past his lips in a rush. "Or is there time?"

Mammon sighs.

"I don't know, Lucifer, I really don't know." He admits, gently unfurling his brother's fingers from around his shoulder, and giving them a squeeze. "Maybe it is too late."

"But—" Lucifer's voice cracks, the weight of the situation finally dawning on him. That Satan might love you. That you might love him. That Lucifer knows he loves you.

And that your courage gave him the courage to love, without which Lucifer doesn't know what he will do.

Behind them both, laughter still rings out, and the demon can make out your and Satan's laugh.

And in front of him, Mammon is wiping away a stray tear that fell from the Morningstar's eyes.

[romione-trope-fest]

A Weight Off My Chest

Of course, @edie-k nails this second kiss!

------------------------

Title: A Weight Off My Chest

Author: Edie K.

Trope: Second Kiss

Rating: Teen for language and innuendo

Summary: A strappy vest forces Ron to have a difficult conversation.

Word Count: 2050

++++++

Ron exited the bathroom, footsteps careful and light. At this time of the night, everyone in the Burrow should be sound asleep. But Ron knew as well as anyone how hard it was to achieve that peace these days and didn’t want to be the one to disrupt it.

He spotted Ginny’s closed bedroom door and grimaced. Part of him wanted to crack the door and poke at his sister, but in the end he was too worried about what he would find. And really, they were doing him a favor.

After nearly losing both Harry and Hermione in the last two months, Ron’s selfish preference was to have them by his side at all times. But some things needed more leniency–that’s why Harry was in there with Ginny, and not Hermione.

On the first night back at the Burrow, he could see how uncomfortable it made Harry to share his room while Hermione slept in Ron’s bed. And Ginny had been shirty about sleeping in her room alone. So the next morning, Ron stuttered out a barely coherent request to Hermione, asking if she could fix the situation. She seemed to understand (though she gave him an amused look), and patted his chest, promising to talk to Harry.

He tiptoed up the stairs to his attic bedroom and the temperature climbed higher with each step. It was stuffy and warm, even for early May.

The benefit of the heat was that like him, Hermione ended up sleeping in vests and shorts. He couldn’t deny the thrill he got from her smooth legs brushing up against him in the night. Ron shook the thought away. Going down that path would not lead to him resuming sleep.

He entered his room, softly closing the door behind him. The room was much cooler than the stairway, thanks to Hermione’s brilliant spell work. He gently pulled back the light bed covers to slide in next to a sleeping Hermione and was greeted by—

Her bare left tit.

Immediately Ron whirled around and tried to push the image out of his mind but it was hopeless. Even though it had been mere nanoseconds, her naked breast with its skin paler than the rest of her and rosy pink tip was burned into his brain forever.

The tit in question must have somehow worked its way out of the strappy vest Hermione had gone to sleep wearing and was now laying near his pillow.

On the one hand, this was a dream come true. Literally. There were many, many dreams featuring Hermione’s bare tits and the reality was better than any of them.

On the other hand, all of those dreams had involved her awake and actively participating in the reveal of her tits. In this way, the reality was much worse.

And to top it off, he had no idea if she wanted him to see her tits.

Yes, she had kissed him in the heat of the battle but in the week that passed, there had been nothing.

Okay, not nothing— they were sharing a bed. She also let him hold her hand, hugged him, and sat close to him whenever possible. But there was no more kissing.

She was waiting on him. The night before Fred’s funeral, they had been sitting together on the dock, kicking their bare feet in the grimy pond water. She lightly ran her fingers over his hand and said, “I know that all of this is a lot for you right now. It is for me as well. I just want you to know that when you’re ready to talk about it, I am too.”

Deep down, he knew she had to be interested in something more than friendship. She wouldn’t have said it that way or act how she was if she didn’t want something more. But how much more?

He was in love with her. He had known since that dark, rainy night he left her. Did she feel the same, or was it more for convenience? It was plausible, especially now that Harry and Ginny were paired up again. Or had she kissed him in the heat of the battle and then decided that snogging might be a fun way to spend the summer?

What was she ready to talk about? It was all pretty terrifying.

Regardless, he doubted she wanted him to gawk at her bare tit while she slept. He needed to think through his options.

Option 1: He could get up for the day. Except it was currently 3:30 in the morning. He was exhausted and had just worked hard to not wake his family so that seemed like a bad idea.

Option 2: He could sleep on Harry’s old cot. If he did that and Hermione woke before him, she would ask questions. Or worse, realize he had seen her tit. Nope, no, not going to work.

Option 3: He could carefully climb back into bed and go to sleep so Hermione would never realize he had gotten up. This seemed like the best plan on parchment except for the significant flaw that he could not sleep in a bed with Hermione’s bare tit.

As he was contemplating his choices, he heard sudden shifting. He turned around to see Hermione roll on her other side, now facing away from him slightly, exposed tit up. He glanced away.

Okay. New option. Get into bed carefully, facing away from Hermione. Nudge her in the back as fast as he can and feign sleep before she wakes up completely. Then she can fix herself, never knowing he’d seen her tit. This seemed to be the only way to get a complete night’s rest while not destroying his opportunity to get a second kiss in the future.

He crept to the bed and while holding his breath, he lowered himself to the bed as gently as possible. Then he swung up one leg and paused before pulling up the second. He carefully laid back on his pillow.

No movement detected.

Acting with more caution than he had at any point in his life, he shifted onto his side, turning himself completely away from Hermione. He tried to put as much space between the two of them as he could. Unfortunately, that left him balanced uncomfortably close to the edge of the mattress.

Once situated, he waited a full minute to calm himself enough that he could pull off fake sleep. Taking a steadying breath, he reached blindly backward to poke her in the back.

But instead, his hand came in contact with the smooth and soft skin of her bare tit.

“Fuck!” He yanked his hand back so quickly that he threw off his balance and fell right off the bed, bashing his shoulder on the nightstand.

“Ron! What happened?” Hermione was now sitting straight up in bed, wand in hand.

“I’m fine,” he muttered from the floor. She peered over the side of the bed to look at him. And unfortunately, she was still completely unaware she was half exposed.

“Did you have a nightmare?” she asked, leaning forward to offer him her hand.

Ron closed his eyes. The movement was too much. He had no choice. “Uh, Hermione, you might want to adjust your shirt.”

In his mind, he could picture her glancing down. The thought was validated when he heard her let out an embarrassed squeak.

Ron picked himself up off the floor and sat down on the bed next to Hermione. He hazarded a look at her and wondered if his face was as red as hers.

“ ‘m sorry,” Ron mumbled.

“Sorry for what?”

“For-for groping you. It was an accident, really!”

“WHAT? When did you grope me?”

“Just now! That’s what woke you up!”

A confused look crossed her face. “You falling on the floor is what woke me.”

Ron shook his head. “I only fell because I was groping you in order to wake you up. Accidentally.”

Hermione stared at him, her expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry! I came back from the bathroom and your— uh, your shirt. It was wonky. And I panicked but then you moved so I came up with a plan to get in bed back to back with you and sort of nudge you awake so you’d shove your, uh, I mean, it back in but I missed your back and poked you in the… But it was an accident. And then I fell off the bed. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied, her voice quiet.

“Please, don’t be mad. Or don’t be mad for long. I really didn’t mean anything by it.”

To his shock, she gave him a little smile. “Ron, it’s okay. We’re sharing this small bed. There’s bound to be unintentional contact.”

“I just don’t want you to think I don’t respect you or something. Here I am grabbing at you when we haven’t even…”

“Haven’t even what?”

Damn it. “Uh, talked.”

“Talked?”

“About stuff. Like you said before Fred’s funeral.”

“Oh.”

The silence in the room was even more stifling than the humidity outside of it.

“So you envisioned that after we talked about-about things between us that you would be able to-to touch me there?”

Now Ron couldn’t help but stare at her. He would have expected those words to be delivered in an angry and indignant tone–and rightfully so. Instead her voice was timid and dare he say, hopeful.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “No, or at least not right after. Are you saying you would want me to-to do that?”

She finally met his eyes. “I kissed you, didn’t I?”

“Yes but I wasn’t sure what it meant to you.”

“Ron.”

It was just that. His name. The moment the word was out of her mouth, he felt like an idiot for ever thinking she felt anything other than the same way he did. Something between them could never–would never–be something they did for convenience or distraction. It was real.

“I love you,” Hermione said softly.

“I know,” answered Ron.

At that response, Hermione’s eyes widened slightly and she let out a nervous giggle.

“Shit. I mean, I love you too. Sorry.”

Hermione's laughter continued but her eyes now looked slightly shiny. “It’s okay. It’s just from— never mind.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask.”

Ron grinned before cupping her face with one hand and leaning in to capture her lips. Without the destruction and terror of battle looming, he allowed himself to take the moment in fully. Hermione responded with an eagerness that he hadn’t expected but realized that he should have. As she pressed herself close to him, he wound his free arm around her back, trying to pour out all of the things that he had failed to say to her in his actions. After a few moments, they pulled apart.

“Wow,” Ron said, still feeling overwhelmed by what had transpired.

“Yes,” agreed Hermione. And then she yawned. Ron couldn’t stop his face from falling. “Oh, no, it’s not that! The kiss was amazing. It’s just that… even with everything going on, this being unresolved between us is what’s been keeping me up at night. Especially when we’ve been sharing a bed. Now that I know it’s real, I can finally relax. We have all the time in the world now.”

The idea of sleeping in bed with the woman he loved and had kissed for the second time wasn’t particularly relaxing to him but he nodded and laid back on the bed, gesturing for her to cuddle next to him. She rest her head on his chest and he wrapped an arm around her.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I love you,” Ron replied, eager to say it first this time.

“I love you too.”

Ron closed his eyes. To his surprise, he felt himself drift off almost immediately. He really shouldn’t be shocked— Hermione knew everything.

“Ron?”

“Yeah?” he mumbled, sleep just within his reach.

“Just… the next time you uh, touch me there? Make sure I’m awake to enjoy it, okay?”

Ron’s eyes flew open. Shit.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Pym Particles and House Spiders- A Marvel Fanfiction

Note: Y/N has ice powers in this fic; takes place in the same Marvel Universe as Cryogenics and Kidnappings

The spider crawled over the boxes of old suits and pieces of tech. The young Avengers’ attic was huge, but it was also rarely used, so it gave plenty of opportunities for little creatures to make a home inside of it. The spider made a leap over a set of old katanas, then landed precariously on a vial of red liquid. The cap must not have been screwed on all the way, however, because as the spider jumped from the vial, its top fell off and the contents inside dribbled down onto the floor… right where the spider landed.

The spilled Pym particles took effect immediately. The spider grew to the size of a small elephant, its back reaching to the attic’s rafters. Unbothered by its change in size, the spider quickly went to work building its web, and the inhabitants of the mansion were none the wiser.

…

Y/N woke up to the sound of bumping. She bolted upright in bed. Deciding that she must have just been hearing things, Y/n went to lay back down, but then, it happened again. Bump. Thump. Bump.

That does it, Y/N thought, and she got out of bed and reached for her room’s intercom.

“Guys, wake up,” Y/N said into the tiny machine on the wall, “someone’s in the house.”

A groan crackled out from the intercom.

“Y/N, it’s four o’clock in the morning,” Miles’s voice rang out, “some of us were up all night crime fighting.”

“Well get ready to do some more crime fighting, because like I said, we’re in the middle of a home invasion.”

“It’s probably just Doreen grabbing snacks again, you worry too much.”

“Hey!” Squirrel-Girl’s voice came on, “I grabbed all of my nuts and acorns at midnight, thank you very much. My squirrels and I were sleeping peacefully until someone woke us up.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. Was no one else worried about the intruder?

“Where did you hear the noise, Y/N?” Peter asked.

“It sounded like it came from the attic,” Y/N answered.

“Then I’ll meet you there,” Peter said, “everyone else, don’t go back to bed just yet. We might need back up.”

“Thank you!” Y/N said, “at least someone’s taking this seriously.”

…

Y/N met Peter at the ladder that would lead to the attic. The webslinger hung upside down on the ceiling, fully clad in his spider-suit. Y/N had also gotten dressed in her suit and was ready to take down whoever was dumb enough to break into a house full of enhanced teenagers.

“Okay,” Peter said, landing on the floor, “I’ll go first, then you follow. Got it?”

Y/N nodded. She followed Peter up the ladder and through the trap door to the attic. Y/N watched Peter look around with his night-vision lenses, then felt him immediately tense up.

“What is it?” Y/N whispered, “HYDRA? AIM? The brotherhood of evil mutants?”

“Worse, it’s so much worse,” Peter whispered back, “abort mission. Go back down.”

“What!?”

“Y/N, I’m not joking, go back down,” Peter said.

There was an urgency in Peter’s voice that compelled Y/N to oblige. She descended the ladder, with Spider-Man right behind her. He closed the trap door and sealed it shut with a web.

“Gather the team,” Peter said, “we’re leaving.”

…

“What?” Y/N asked, “Leaving? Peter, who’s up there?”

Before he could stop her, Y/N pushed past Peter and climbed the ladder to the attic. She tore off the web with an ice shard and pushed the trap door open. She flicked on the light to the attic and gasped at what she saw. A giant spider, the size of at least three cars, in a corner of the attic. The spider had covered the attic in webbing and was clicking its pincers menacingly. It arched its back and shot a web from its rear. Y/N felt Peter’s arm tug her down just in time. She heard the web whizz over her head. Peter reached past her and closed the trap door, sealing it with a web once again.

“Right,” Y/N said, her voice significantly higher than usual, “I’ll go get the team.”

[medea10]

My Review of Princess Sara

And now I return for more World Masterpiece Theater.

Today’s classic is something I’m somewhat familiar with. The series is loosely based on the novel titled, “A Little Princess” by Frances Hodgson Burnett. There were several adaptations for film and television throughout the past several decades including a Shirley Temple film in the late 1930’s, an Americanized version in the 90s, and about a bajillion Filipino adaptations. The one I’m most familiar with was the one that came out in 1995. I remember this film very well as it was played a lot in my youth and as an adult, I would come across it from time to time on HBO or some other station playing it. It was fine and all, but I knew that this film took artistic liberties and changed around a lot from the novel.

After watching several of these World Masterpiece Theater animes, I’ve come to realize that these series are pretty damn accurate when it comes to capturing the original source material. I mean yes, Les Mis took a lot of liberties to remove several characters from being killed off, but it was still top tier best version. All of these animes have to take a few liberties as they are all G-Rated. But they’re still very good nevertheless. I was curious about this particular story for the longest time and thought it was high-time I sit down and watch the anime version.

Sara Crewe and her father arrive in London from India. Back home, Sara was treated a lot like a princess and she acted like one. Not the bad kind, the Princess Diana kind, she’s a sweetheart. Sara is about to be admitted to a boarding school, Miss Minchin’s all-girl’s boarding school that is! Once at school, Sara was beloved by most of the students and praised by teachers due to her academic skills. On top of which, her father is loaded! Yeah, her father is in the diamond business back in India and so he has enough money to keep her daughter happy.

Unfortunately, when Sara’s father dies news also comes that the family is bankrupt leaving Sara without a penny to her name. Surely Miss Minchin will care for the poor orphan girl, right? Ha, I already know this story. Miss Minchin strips Sara of her education, clothes, and housing. Even though she tossed around the idea of casting the orphaned girl to the streets, Miss Minchin takes pity on the girl. Sara will live in a cold attic and work as a scullery maid. Sara is to do as she’s told by her higher-ups, never talk with the other students, and must work until she pays off her debts to Miss Minchin.

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: As I’ve mentioned in the past, only a few of the World Masterpiece Theater animes were dubbed into English. And this was one of them…sorta! Our good friends at Animax did one. And if you’re unfamiliar, this is the company from Southeast Asia that dubs anime into English. And if that still doesn’t ring a bell, look up the Cardcaptor Sakura dub and you’ve got your answer. As usual, this anime has made its way across the globe to many different countries and territories. Apparently, it was a big hit in the Philippines. So much so that there’s a plethora of memes surrounding this one series! As for the cast, it’s a mixture of veteran voice actors that are still voicing today, lesser-known voices, and one-timers. And as this is a part of the World Masterpiece Theater collection, some voice actors here were heard in other works throughout the years like Naoko Watanabe and Eiko Yamada. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

*Sara is played by Sumi Shimamoto (known for Okita’s sister on Gintama, Kanata on Lucky Star, Ishizu on YGO, and Flora on Berserk 2016)

*Becky is played by Teiyuu Ichiryuusai (known for Masao on Crayon Shin-chan)

*Miss Minchin is played by Taeko Nakanishi

DISLIKED CHARACTERS: Oh-ho-ho, I knew going in that I was going to hate two specific characters! Those two are Lavinia and Miss Minchin. Though when I watched the movie, it was more of a hatred for Miss Minchin overall and Lavinia was a passing thought. Has this anime changed my thoughts on these two?

Right from the starting gate, they are both detestable and will continue to be that.

Lavinia is a snot-nosed brat who gets jealous every time Sara gets attention from the teachers. But the greatest injustice done to Lavinia was that Miss Minchin took Lavinia’s role of class rep and gave it to Sara. So the bitch was butt-hurt. But when Sara’s father died and she loses her wealth, Lavinia showed absolutely no sadness. In fact, she was the only person in the room smiling. What a bitch! And when Sara became a scullery maid for the seminary, Lavinia made sure to screw around with Sara by any means necessary. She gets a kick from making the poor girl suffer or get yelled at. Seriously, every time you see this snot-nosed brat glare at Sara I’m screaming, “JUST LEAVE THE POOR GIRL ALONE!”

Thank God there was a second of peace. Lavinia’s father learned that Sara was once a student but is now a scullery maid and Lavinia being so insistent that Sara become her personal maid. He slapped the freckles off that bitch’s face. Give that father a cash prize and a trophy! Mind you I said one second of peace. The next episode she was right back giving Sara (and Becky) a hard time. Lavinia does so much to Sara that I can’t believe Sara managed to remain civil throughout the entire ordeal.

And as for Miss Minchin, she’s had it out for Sara from minute one. But because her father was wealthy, she decided to use Sara to show off to high society people. And the brewing point for Miss Minchin to vow vengeance against Sara was because Sara hid the fact that she was fluent in French. The audacity of this bitch! But again, because of Sara’s father, she sucked up. Miss Minchin’s true colors came out in front of Sara when it’s learned of her father’s death and failed diamond business. No pity on the girl who just lost everything. She was ready to throw her out on the street, but was begged by others to keep her as a maid.

Miss Minchin would be terrible to Sara. She physically abused her, starved her, forced her to live in unlivable conditions, and had the other workers (Molly and James) work her like a slave. One of the worst moments was when Sara got severely ill. Never mind pushing Sara to the point of illness, this woman had to think for a moment to get a credible doctor to look at her. She got the cheapest, drunkest doctor they could find who misdiagnosed her. Miss Minchin even thought about sending Sara to a sanitorium if this persists. Bitch, I can’t even with you! At least in this version, Miss Minchin never sent the police on Sara. Of the three versions to this story I’ve watched, I think this Miss Minchin was the cruelest. Only because we do witness her slapping Sara several times!

SHIPPING: I know I shouldn’t be shipping anyone with anybody. Most of the people in this story are young. VERY YOUNG! As for the adults, there were no romantic interests for anyone here. It’s plainly clear that Miss Minchin is going to die a spinster. None of the teachers had secret relationships with some guy like in the Shirley Temple version. And Miss Amelia didn’t run off with the milk man like in the 1995 version! None of that went down in this adaptation.

With that said…

Peter x Sara is cute! I would support the hell out of this even though it probably isn’t canon.

ACCURATE OR NOT: So let’s see if Princess Sara really stacks up to the novel “A Little Princess”.

*Oh-ho-ho, time to nail my childhood to a wall. As you know, I’m well familiar with the 1995 rendition of A Little Princess. If you’re like me and know this film from start to finish, get ready to have the balloon pop. Becky’s not black. The story takes place in London, not New York City. The story really takes place in the late 1800s, not World War I times. Ralph Crewe didn’t leave his daughter to fight in a war. And finally the most important fact, Ralph Crewe remains dead. Most of the things I mentioned here were used correctly in this adaptation.

*There are some new characters added to the series. And quite frankly, I’m not entirely sure who these people are. Except for the animals! With the exception of Ram Dass’s monkey, I don’t think Miss Minchin’s cat Cesar nor the family of rats exist.

*Most things in this anime are pretty accurate to the original source. But there’s a good chance that most of the episodes were either fabricated or stretched out to fit the running time. You know, fillers! Call me crazy, but I don’t think the book had chapters involving a Halloween party. Same goes for that episode where Amelia opens up to Sara about her past with her sister.

*It is unknown how long this experience for Sara lasts anime-wise. In the book, Sara’s time at Miss Minchin’s seminary was approximately 2 years. The way I see it, I don’t think Sara was a scullery maid for more than a year in the anime. If she were, we would have probably gotten an episode of Sara celebrating her first birthday without her father.

ENDING: Around episode 30, the home next to Miss Minchin’s seminary was sold to a gentleman from India named Mr. Carrisford. He was able to survive a gnarly bout with Jungle Fever, although now he’s confined to a wheel chair. But Mr. Carrisford has an overwhelming sense of guilt due to how things went down in India. See, he convinced his long-time friend to go into business with him involving a diamond mine. But the friend died from his Jungle Fever, leaving behind a daughter and a whole legal battle involving bankruptcy.

In case you’re not keeping up, Mr. Carrisford’s friend is Ralph Crewe, Sara’s father. Sara is just several feet from the gentleman who can save her from the living hell of Miss Minchin’s seminary.

But Medea, we’ve got over 15 episodes left!

Correct, dipshit! Mr. Carrisford doesn’t remember a lot, probably due to the Jungle Fever. He doesn’t remember Ralph’s daughter’s name. And he forgot where Sara was sent for her education. In fact, he was way off. Mr. Carrisford had his friend travel by boat to France in search for this girl. So I’m sitting here episode-after-episode screaming at the screen, “SHE’S RIGHT THERE, YOU IDIOT”. But because of Sara’s friendship with Ram Dass (Carrisford’s caretaker), he saw to it to repay Sara for her kindness. Ram Dass would spend days and nights going to the attic to give Sara warm blankets, clothes, and food. Sara thought it was a magic spell or a guardian angel looking out for her. It wasn’t long before Miss Minchin saw these special items in the attic and threw Sara out to sleep in a horse stable.

Things only get worse from here when one night the stable catches on fire and Sara almost burned to death. And then she gets blamed by Miss Minchin for starting the fire! This is the one and only time I’ve ever seen Sara stand up to Miss Minchin as she was not at fault. I know it’d be asking too much to have Sara tell Miss Minchin to fuck off, but this was big for Sara to stand up for herself. In actuality, Lottie accidentally dropped a candle when she was scared by (you guessed it) Lavinia and her friends. But no, Miss Minchin jumped to every wrong conclusion and threw Sara out of the seminary. Fortunately, Sara was taken in by Peter and his family and she was even able to get a job like many of the other children in the area.

Sara’s going to be a little match girl!

This anime hurts to watch. This anime hurts a lot.

Thankfully Sara’s stint as a little match girl was short-lived as Miss Amelia came looking for her and brought her back to the seminary. The only reason behind that is because there was a big care package addressed to Sara. Miss Minchin made it very clear that she still despises Sara. But Minchin flips her light-switch when she sees the care package contained beautiful clothing and such. Because she thought Sara was being watched by a wealthy and anonymous family member, she allows Sara to live in the attic and attend classes instead of doing chores with Becky. She goes back to kissing her ass. Again, the audacity of this bitch!

Moving back to Mr. Carrisford’s dilemma! He sent his solicitor to France in search of Ralph Crewe’s daughter. He returned with no such luck of a daughter. Then, they decide to hone their search to right here in England because this is where Ralph was from. Thankfully, fate intervened before they start another grand search as Sara came by the home to return Ram Dass’s monkey. Here it is, the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Sara meeting Mr. Carrisford! He learns Sara knows some Hindu and grew up in India. He put 2+2 together and realized the girl from next door he’s been secretly helping was really Ralph Crewe’s daughter all along!

When Miss Minchin went next door to retrieve Sara, she was in for the shock of her life. Carrisford is going to adopt Sara. The diamond mine that was rumored to be a bust, was really fortuitous. Sara’s debts are wiped away. Not only is she inheritor to her father’s share, but she will also obtain Carrisford’s share when he passes (he has no heir of his own). And to top it off, he knows about the abuse of Sara so Sara is going to live next door instead of a creaky attic. You know, it’s not nice to kick people while their down. But fuck that, this bitch has needed a royal-ass beat down since episode one. Time for Miss Minchin’s sister to have her say!

MISS AMELIA: Throughout these 40-odd episodes, she is seen as the submissive sister, doing whatever Miss Minchin says. Amelia just stands there looking concerned every, single, fucking episode and does fucking nothing! She sees Sara suffering in silence with a smile on her face and says nothing to her sister. She even goes a step beyond that by begging Sara to forgive her sister several episodes prior to this very moment. We do get some light shed on Miss Minchin and Amelia’s past about how Miss Minchin worked odd jobs to take care of Amelia due to lack of parents. Not sure if this is really true or not, so I’m leaving it off my accuracy list. When Miss Minchin returns to the seminary and tells her sister what went down with Mr. Carrisford, Miss Amelia let her sister have it.

It was a long-time coming and I can understand a person like Amelia letting loose. Some people hold it in for so long until they’re filled to the top and explode. I’m one of those people, so again, I can relate in a way. Amelia spent this whole time contemplating whether to speak up about Sara’s abuse by her own sister or to shut up and do what her sister says. Hearing about Mr. Carrisford taking Sara snapped Amelia and she had a total breakdown. And all I can say is, “Bravo”! Amelia was absolutely right and I’m glad Miss Minchin heard it. It was all her fault. And if the seminary closes because people hear about Sara’s abuse, it’ll be all her fault.

BACK TO THE CONCLUSION: Fortunately for Miss Minchin, Sara is kind and forgiving. She had Mr. Carrisford give a sizable donation to Miss Minchin’s seminary. Miss Minchin was a notorious penny-pincher, so this should settle her. Sara gets quite the happy ending as she gets to live with Mr. Carrisford and still go to school. She has Becky become her personal maid. All of Sara’s belongings that were taken away when Ralph died are returned to her on Christmas. A little starving girl she helped early in the series has a happy ending as well. And we end with Sara and her new family go back to India. It’s for 4 months to settle things on the Crewe estate, but she’ll be back.

At least when she comes back, Lavinia won’t be there. Good riddance! At least they come to some sort of truce.

No matter what version of A Little Princess you watch, it’s always going to be a tough watch. Because of the size of this series, it can sometimes be too hard to watch. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good story where a character takes on adversity and struggles. But there comes a time when struggle just becomes borderline torture-porn. You know those stories where the hero has to go through so much pain and agony and eventually get some sort of satisfied conclusion. The anime The Rising of the Shield Hero and the movie Precious comes to mind. Thank God Sara never had to endure what Precious did. Still bad though! At least with the movie adaptations to Princess Sara, we only watch Sara’s struggles for like, what, an hour or maybe less. This is over 30 episodes of watching this girl get abused. That’s 23 minutes per episode, mind you! Not just from Miss Minchin, but the cooks and one smarmy brat who has a vendetta. All the while, you’re telling yourself, “Dude, you know this story and it’s going to get better”. But it’s not an easy watch! There are scenes where you just wish they’d leave Sara alone or just wish for things to get better.

Is this my favorite adaptations of A Little Princess? Hmm…I don’t know! I really liked this version of the story, but I still have an attachment to the 1995 film. Granted, the animation is always a bit of a drawback when it comes to these animes. But I have to cut some slack as this was mid-1980s here. If you were a fan of this story, whether you saw the 1995 film, the Shirley Temple film, or any of the other adaptations out there, I give a recommendation. Track this down and give it a watch.

Okay Randomizer-kun, I’m giving you another shot. Please don’t give me an obscure hentai to watch in place of this.

Oh thank God, another Nippon animation!