#[urban fantasy] mirror and stone

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Do you have any visions for an fantasy race/society of gorgons? I brainstormed about it on discord like a week ago.

Complete fantasy societies really aren't my forte, but if I was going to put gorgons in an urban fantasy setting as a humanoid species...

● If the world was suited for it, I would keep their more monstrous appearance, fangs and claws and all.

● If the world wasn't suited for it, I would let them look human apart from snakes instead of hair on their head, sharp teeth, piercing eyes and - just for fun - the wings they are often depicted with on Greek pottery, but which rarely show up in stories.

● For convenience's sake I would stick to the "if you look them in the eye you turn to stone" rather than the "if you look directly into their face you turn to stone". So gorgon's living among humans would wear veils, mirrored glasses, etc., to shield their eyes.

● Also, while the turn to stone thing definitely works on humans, I think it shouldn't work on everyone. Maybe vampires are immune, for instance. I'll also pull from fairy tales and say there is a "water of life" potion which is capable of reversing the petrification. It's hard to make, but most hospitals would have some on hand.

● And just to give them an edge, I'm going to say they can practice blood magic! The concept from Euripides' play Ion that gorgon blood can be either a potent cure or a terrible poison is very interesting to me and a good basis for blood-based magical powers.

[orbleglorb]

also give us the webcomic world building rant i want to see it

i accidentally exited out of the app and lost the 3-4 paragraphs i had but i will try to recreate them. im not rlly sure it made sense anyway

so the thing about worldbuilding is. i am go big or go home. i cannot do "current civilization but slightly to the left" i need to take climates and terrains and then figure out what kind of cultures would grow there. i am, right now, focusing quite a bit on the main city and getting solid ideas for my main characters. not, you know, fully fleshed out, but what kind of character i want/need and how i would be interested in writing that. is there a plot? maybe. maybe not. im stuck between a story where the problems are mostly interpersonal vs. a story where there's external problems like The Prophecy or The Cursed Artifact or whatever. so far i think the main guy gets isekai'd and probably gets some manner of Cursed Object but it's like excalibur from soul eater instead of the ring from lotr. and he's stuck with it and it annoys him deeply

the other isekai'd character (there's probably more but this one is like an important side character) is turkish. which is Interesting. okay so main guy is either cuban (miami) or mexican (texas)-- the character he's based off of is cuban but admittedly i know so much more about mexico and the mexican american community. they're really very different cultures which is part of what makes it so hard. and if i go with cuban then that is two places i have to research bc i truly don't know enough about turkey. like probably more than most people but not enough for a character surely

i decided that the main religion (of the city, anyway) would be Judaism based instead of the usual Fantasy Christianity because 1) would be a nice break from how it normally goes and 2) before i decided much of anything i hit a character with my jewish beam and gave her an (ace attorney ass) jewish name (aviva blumenthal) and i got attached

my main point here is worldbuilding is hard and i worry i will be bad at it. im going back and forth on whether to make the climate hot and arid or hot and humid. it will be hot and no one will like it 👍

OH my list of names for the turkish character (last name will probably be Avci/Avcı or Koç (last letter is pronounced ch)

Mihra (means "love," could have fun mirror symbolism if that is ever relevant)

Sevda (love, from arabic word meaning black bile, melancholy, sadness. both turkish and azerbaijani)

makbule (community impressions on "behind the name" are "urban" and "strong" which is the vibe im going for)

zeynep (valuable stones, gems, beautiful, flowering fragrant tree)

dilek (wish)

ezgi (melody)

aynur (moonlight)

aygün (from "ay" meaning "moon" and "gün" meaning "sun")

cemre (warming of temps at the end of winter; nice opposite to aviva?)

eylül (september; another opposite for aviva. also a hebrew month that takes place around september)

şadiye (singer)

yağmur (rain)

yıldız (star)

as you can see im indecisive. there will be four "main" characters (all 3 above plus one) so i gotta figure out even more names. i do generally love that part but it takes forever. i know without a doubt that the hardest part of this will be trying to get any website i host this on to accept turkish and spanish letters and not give me some error.

im running out of steam so Goot Bye

[travelwriter23]

Jaipur Heritage City: A Royal Stop on Your Golden Triangle Tour

If you’re planning your Golden Triangle Tour, there’s one place that perfectly balances royal grandeur, vibrant street life, and historical depth—Jaipur Heritage City. Known globally as the “Pink City,” Jaipur is not just an Instagrammable destination with ornate architecture and colorful chaos—it’s a UNESCO World Heritage City that offers an immersive dive into India’s regal past and cultural soul.

Let’s take a closer look at why a Jaipur Heritage City Experience with Golden Triangle Tour is an absolute must.

A City Painted in History (and Pink)

Founded in 1727 by Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II, Jaipur is one of the first planned cities in India. The layout, designed by architect Vidyadhar Bhattacharya, followed ancient Indian sciences like Vastu Shastra and Shilpa Shastra, resulting in a harmonious grid with wide streets and structured sectors.

The famous pink hue? That came in 1876 when the city was painted in terracotta pink to welcome the Prince of Wales. The color stuck—and now it’s iconic worldwide, giving Jaipur its unforgettable nickname.

In 2019, UNESCO officially recognized Jaipur as a World Heritage City, thanks to its blend of traditional urban planning, architectural marvels, and cultural significance. Today, the walled city of Jaipur stands as a testament to India’s royal heritage and timeless creativity.

Top Attractions in Jaipur’s Heritage Zone

Here’s what makes the Jaipur Heritage City Experience truly extraordinary:

🏰 Hawa Mahal (Palace of Winds)

This five-story architectural wonder was built for royal ladies to observe the bustling street life below without being seen. With 953 windows and a honeycomb-like façade, it's a symbol of Rajput elegance.

🕉️ Jantar Mantar

An 18th-century observatory that features giant stone instruments designed to track celestial movements. It's where science meets sculpture—one of the most fascinating spots in the city.

👑 City Palace

Still home to the royal family, this complex combines Mughal and Rajput architecture. The palace also houses museums, courtyards, and rare artifacts that offer a peek into royal lifestyles.

🏯 Amer Fort (Amber Fort)

Though technically just outside the city center, Amer Fort is inseparable from the Jaipur experience. Perched on a hill, it features marble palaces, mirrored halls, and elephant rides up to the main gate—pure fantasy.

🙏 Govind Dev Ji Temple

Located within the City Palace complex, this temple is a major spiritual hub. Expect a vibrant crowd, devotional songs, and a charged atmosphere during aarti (prayer) times.

🛡️ Nahargarh & Jaigarh Forts

These hilltop forts offer panoramic views of the city and were originally built for defense. Don’t miss Jaigarh’s claim to fame—the world’s largest cannon on wheels.

Where Exactly Is Jaipur Heritage City?

The Heritage City area refers primarily to the walled city—a historic core bursting with activity, charm, and landmarks. Neighborhoods and highlights include:

Badi Chaupar & Chhoti Chaupar – central city squares

Tripolia Bazaar & Johari Bazaar – paradise for shoppers, especially for traditional jewelry and textiles

Hawa Mahal, City Palace, Jantar Mantar – all within walking distance

You’ll find yourself navigating through narrow lanes, open courtyards, and traditional haveli-style buildings that make you feel like you’ve stepped into another era.

Getting There & Around

Reaching Jaipur is easy, especially as part of a Golden Triangle Tour:

By Air: Jaipur International Airport (JAI) is just 30–40 minutes from the walled city.

By Road or Train: Jaipur is well-connected to both Delhi and Agra—the other two points on the Golden Triangle—making it a convenient stop.

Local Transport: Uber, Ola, and auto-rickshaws are widely available. But within the heritage area, most sights are walkable, letting you truly soak in the city’s atmosphere.

Why Jaipur Completes the Golden Triangle Tour

The Golden Triangle Tour covers three of India’s most famous cities—Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur—each offering a different slice of history and culture. Jaipur brings a heritage city experience that ties the triangle together with elegance and energy.

From Mughal monuments in Delhi to the eternal romance of the Taj Mahal in Agra, and finally the vibrant streets and royal palaces of Jaipur—this tour is India in its most iconic form. And with Jaipur Heritage City now recognized on a global scale, there’s no better time to witness its grandeur.

Final Thoughts: Make Jaipur the Crown Jewel of Your Trip

Whether you're wandering through the echoing corridors of Amer Fort, watching the sun set from Nahargarh Fort, or shopping for bangles in a centuries-old bazaar, the Jaipur Heritage City Experience with Golden Triangle Tour is guaranteed to leave you spellbound.

This isn’t just a stopover—it’s the royal heartbeat of India’s cultural journey.

[houseofnotedswords]

THE operative fallacy here is that we believe that unconditional love means not seeing anything negative about someone, when it really means pretty much the opposite: loving someone despite their infuriating flaws and essential absurdity.

“I Know What You Think of Me” BY TIM KREIDER

[fatehbaz]

[S]and has acquired a conspicuous profile in contemporary urbanization over the past two decades. [...] [S]and but also gravel and crushed rock, are the fastest-growing category of extracted material. Their extraction has increased six-fold in the Asia-Pacific region over the last two decades. Singapore, a city-state in Southeast Asia the size of New York City and half the size of London, is the largest per capita importer of sand in the world. The city-state’s urbanization and never-ending construction [...] is partly responsible for its considerable appetite for sand, but this use pales in comparison to the amount it requires for its land reclamation project, which has seen the city-state expand its territory from 585 square kilometers in 1959 to 724 in 2022. Singapore’s construction of territory, and the sand it has imported from all over Southeast Asia to resource its geophysical projection of sovereignty, invites us to consider the implications of urbanization’s enrollment of greater and greater volumes of sediment, and the geopolitics of the global sand crisis. [...]

As sediment flows and locks into place, it expresses characteristics of all three states of matter, depositing and eroding [...]. A geomorphological errantry, sediment is always on the move [...]. In its multiplicity, sand becomes a kind of narrator for those elements [...]. In its modulation [...], sediment sutures together landscapes that are neither solid nor fluid, but the porous interplay [...].

---

Between 2006 and 2016, Singapore, with a population of less than six million, was the top importer of sand in the world four times. Land reclamation there truly began with colonization by the British East India Company, with Boat Quay in 1822, when three hundred or so convict laborers who were paid pittances chopped down hills and cut up stones to embank a swamp, lest it remain fallow. When Singapore became an independent city-state in 1965, reclamation projects initially cut down hills for fill material, flattening the interior and exterior of the main island alike. [...] As these projects grew more expansive and the city-state’s demand for sand intensified, Malaysia and then Indonesia banned sand exports to Singapore [...]. This [resulting] price spike shook the city-state to its core, prompting the opening of a series of construction sand stockpiles [...]. The government began purchasing sand through its web of contractors and subcontractors from Vietnam, Cambodia, the Philippines, and Myanmar. [...]

The securitization of sand in multiple stockpiles in Singapore eerily mirrors what happened in the extractive sandscapes of its origin: similarly sized dunes bloomed along the banks of mangroves in Koh Kong, Cambodia, like a dream herniating into reality, an invasive species of landscape bursting at the seam where the land met the water, still haunting riverbeds years after the dredging stopped. [...]

---

[T]he fantasy of reclaimed land through dubiously sourced rudiments of city-statecraft. [...] This kind of work is normally kept out of sight behind physical partitions as well as the labyrinthine contractual involutions of procurement arrangements, until it is seamlessly assumed by the whole, consumed by land as a homogenous legal entity [...] [B]ehind the mask, another mask. [...] [T]he sand barges and ships enter the maritime waters of Singapore from [...] legally undisclosable sources of its origin.

The eponymous proclamation [...] is the legal mechanism by which a piece of reclaimed land is “proclaimed” as state land proper by the president. A reclamation can only become state land by the text of a proclamation, a eucharistic procedure which purifies the land of its ambiguous sedimentary origin. Prior to that it is foreshore or seabed, but once it has been proclaimed, “thereupon that land shall immediately vest in the State freed and discharged from all public and private rights [...] over the foreshore or the sea-bed before the same were so reclaimed.” [...]

---

The limit to seeing like a state is that the state has a way of doing things that it can’t see, and of refusing to register that which does not meet its threshold of intelligibility.

It blinds itself through the loophole, the nondisclosure agreement, the handshake and its subtle para-political fission. [...]

Singapore’s continued economic prosperity depends on the speculative projection of its territory through unequal economic exchange, disguising it through fabulations of sovereign ingenuity like the Gardens by the Bay. [...]

[There is an] asymmetry between its curated artifice and the remote terraqueous landscapes this curation predates upon, unsettling the ground on which the city-state projects its most delirious fictions of sovereignty [...].

But those very spaces of nondescript hinterland are the logistical and industrial engines which make the Gardens possible. [...]

---

[T]he sheer colonial and postcolonial history of geographic expansion and environmental transformation implies that there are still further worlds to extract for reproducing the global city. Urban form rewired by geo-economic fortune and political repression subversively enroll land and labor into its globe-spanning machinery: it needs to keep on expanding to stay ahead of whatever anticipated global economic movement will buoy it in the future. [...] The transmutation of Singapore’s development trajectory is not historical, but contemporary: Singapore is the global city as a centripetal conjugator of space-time, funneling either term through supply chains that pass through it to produce territory as a plasticity [...].

The calamity it visited on the population of Koh Sralao was first pioneered all over Singapore and its outlying islands in the name of necessity, modernization, and the nation, displacing Orang Laut and Orang Pulau communities, who faced a choice to either abandon their maritime ways or resettle further afield in Malaysia or Indonesia. Many of Singapore’s southern islands were grafted together and erased by land reclamation, with Jurong Island in particular becoming an agglomeration of eighteen different islands, their Malay names now lost, sunk together into the catacombs of a dedicated petrochemical refining and storage complex.

Instead of being haunted by the sediment it has reclaimed its land with, and the rhythms and ecologies this sediment subtended, the global city and its subcontracted tendrils haunt those vestiges of maritime and riverine life bound by sediment like a vengeful ghost, compelled to repeat its actions, and to forget them in the projection of another tabula rasa.

---

All text above by: William Jamieson. “Extracting Sovereignty: Land Reclamation in Southeast Asia and the Emergence of the Global Sand Crisis.” e-flux Journal Issue #137. June 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism.]

[new-revenant]

PhantasyPhest2022

Day 1 -Canon Rewrite(Make it Magical)

Also technically day 6 magical-ghost-zone-ieskai because this was the only thing I could come up with for these two days! Also this just loosely fits the prompt, but don’t worry, that will in fact continue with the prompts to come because reasons :) This also technically fits with day two urban fantasy but it’s fine.

I actually made a whole au thing for this week, called “Mirror World of Mine.” I will unveil more and more details about it as the week goes on.

Basic summary: Danny tries to get of his powers in PP but turning on the portal led him to a world similar to his own-with much more magic and a bit less science. I barely mention much PP stuff and it’s really only the beginning of it and no mention of the Disatoriod or however you spell it.

Danny was tired of it.

Tired of being the hero, tired of having to fight ghosts everyday, tired of being hunted everyday, tired of being tired from it all. Tired of having to bear this stone of responsibility that comes from being this abomination of both ghost and man.

If other people could do his job better than he could, what was the point of keeping it?

So he would step back into that portal without a problem. If it meant getting his normal life back, he’d do anything. He had a feeling that everything wouldn’t go back to normal, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to stop feeling like he had to carry the world on his shoulders.

What better way to get rid of the stone he had to bear than to destroy it? Shatter it into thousand of pieces so that he’d no longer would have to think about it again.

Of course, his friends were just a bit more sensible than him-after all, their minds weren’t clouded by the chance to be a normal kid again. But they were powerless to stop him as he pushed that button for the second time.

Danny saw-and felt-that all too familiar green of ectoplasm, but the feeling that he felt when he become the so-called freak that he is was absent. The feeling of being tugged between life and death, back and forth, infinitely lasting for moments on end. But it felt more like simply going through the portal normally. But with the added bonus of feeling like he was being stabbed by glass. Then he felt like was shot out into a blender, before feeling a numb sort of pain all over his body.

He was lying on a stone floor, as far as he could tell. It was cold and smooth, and definitely nothing he’d recognized from anywhere. He pushed himself off the ground, trying to get a grasp of his surroundings. His head was spinning and his eyesight was blurry, but the general layout or the room seemed vaguely familiar.

Danny groaned, “Where in the zone am I?” He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times, his eyesight coming back to him. Then, he noticed something, a whisper from somewhere, circling around him. He couldn’t see anything, but he knew where it came from, a gut instinct, staring right at it.

“Uhh, hello?” Danny waved to the empty air, feeling quite silly. But the whisper answered.

“Who are you? Why are you here? What’s going on?” The whisper asked, panic enveloping every single word. Panic rose in Danny as well, as he could tell that the whisper’s voice was exactly like his. That’s probably not good.

“Okay, okay, my name’s Danny, Danny Fenton,“ The whisper gasped, “I stepped through my parents’ portal that they built in their basement,” another gasp, “and now I’m here, in a…” Danny looked around his senses having fully came back to him, “…a stone version of their basement. Sweet Clockwork what year is it?”

“Okay, okay,” the whisper mimicked back, “I think I know what’s going on, don’t freak out.”

“It sounds more like you’re the one who’s freaking out.”

“I am! But, you don’t need to freak out, the years um, 2004, and I’m pretty sure you’re from another world?”

“2004, that was a year ago!” Danny exclaimed, “So today must be July 18…the day of the accident.”

“The what? Wait, what accident, what’s going to happen?” The whisper-or well, the other Danny asked in an even more panicked voice then before.

“Well…” Danny turned behind him, facing this world’s portal, it being the same shape of his own’s, yet there was no sense of technology around it, but there were runes upon runes that glowed a sickly green. 

“That, is the accident,” He pointed at it, only now noticing that he was wearing what appeared to be a black turtleneck. He pulled his hand back in, “Wait a minute, what am I wearing?”

The other Danny panicked, and panicked and panicked, “Oh no no no, I think-“

“I’m stuck in your body aren’t I?” Danny asked, deadpanned. The other said yes, and Danny groaned, “Great, just great,” Danny walked a bit aways to get a better look at the portal.

“Welp, might as well spare you and this world’s Amity Park from the horrors of this stupid portal.” Danny clutched his fits and the familiar green ectoplasm surround them. Danny immediately dispersed the ectoplasm after he noticed it. He was definitely in some sort of human form, so he shouldn’t have been able to concentrate so much of it so quickly. It wasn’t like he was overshadowing the other him-it definitely didn’t feel like that. It felt more like when Sidney swapped their bodies, minus the slight feeling of disconnection.

Nevertheless, Danny clutched his fists again and shot at the biggest rune that looked like a ghost. There was all types of symbols, but there were ones that definitely looked like a ghost. Instantly, the portal shut off, and Danny sighed.

“Did the accident give you cool powers?” The other asked excitedly. Given that this was the first time that the other him wasn’t talking all panicky, Danny just nodded.

“That and an invasion of ghosts that keep trying to destroy our town,” Danny then shot at a few more runes.

“Woah woah woah! What are you doing?” The other Danny almost shouted at him, but it still came out as a whisper. It was just as strange as when Danny was able to tell where he was, without being able to see him at all.

Danny looked at where his other was, and said simply, “Stopping an invasion of ghosts that will destroy our town.”

As Danny continued to shoot down the runes, the other kept yelling at him, trying to yell at him, but Danny ignored it, continuing to shoot at rune after rune, the portal crumbling bit by bit. The other Danny’s pleas only got more and more desperate, but Danny was determined. Before he could finish, he felt like he was yanked away, like a failed overshadowing. In a flash, he was out of the body, one that was almost exactly the same as his, minus the turtleneck and his doppelgänger hair’s being blue with black tips for some reason. It was a look. To himself Danny looked like a shadow, only vaguely being able to see his own limbs.

The other Danny looked around frantically, breathing heavily. Just then, the portal collapsed, loudly. He yelped, looking upon the debris in utter horror.

“No, no no no, I can’t-it can’t,” he mumbled, backing away from the scene, “Why-why did you do that?!” He whipped around to face Danny as he yelled at him.

“I told you, I was stopping a very bad and very destructive ghostly invasion. Mom and Dad can just build another portal-better yet, we can take the blueprints so that we can make a portal later so I can get back home.” It was then that it dawned on Danny that he just destroyed his only way home. But, he could just rebuild the whole thing, it would be fine.

“Uh, we don’t really have blueprints?” The other Danny squeaked, “It’s um, all magic and stuff.”

“Okay, do have a book or something? Or did my-your parents just cobble a bunch of stuff together-“

“They cobbled a bunch of runes together,” the other Danny whispered with a hint of shame, “We’ll just have to wait for them to rebuild it. I’m-I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” panic now filled this Danny’s voice, “Have any idea when that’s going to happen buddy?”

“Months.”

“Months.”

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry-“

“NIEL?! ARE YOU DOWN THERE?” A familiar voice-Jazz, it was definitely this world’s Jazz-called from a few floors up. The other Danny’s face paled.

“Niel? Wait a minute, do you go by Neil?” Danny struggle to hold in a laugh.

“Yeah, Daniel, Niel, you know,” ‘Niel’ spoke quickly, “She can’t find me-us-down here like this oh god,” he ran a hand through his hair, panicking as he does.

“Well, I can turn invisible AND intangible, so if your willing-“

“Please! Anything! Hurry!”

Just as the lab door opened, Danny pulled Niel out of his own body and possessed him. This was possession, true possession, it had to be. Danny stumbled a bit, the switch between the two states he was in into the one he was in now was jarring. Fortunately or not Jazz saw that. This other Jazz looked different as well, wearing a aqua, long bell-sleeved v neck and white bootcut pants with a aqua stripe on the end. She was also wearing a black choker with a quartz pendent. She had the same aqua headband and the same auburn hair as the original Jazz.

“Niel! Oh my goodness, what happened?! Are you okay?” Jazz ran over to him, before suddenly stopping in her tracks a few feet away from him, looking at him quizzically.

“Niel, what color are your eyes?” She asked slowly.  Danny raised his eyebrow, confused.

“They’re blue? What happened, are they not blue?!” Danny tried to mimic thee panic that Niel seemed to emanate consistently as far as he could tell. Not to mention that he was also somewhat panicked since boy howdy would this make things even more difficult in the long run.

“Okay, don’t freak out,” Jazz said in her familiar comforting voice, “But your eyes may or may not be green right now.”

“Like the portal?!” Danny didn’t mean to say that but man would he go with it. “The uh, portal turned on-somehow-I swear i didn’t do anything-but it did turn on, and it was green, and I definitely did not go in-“

“Niel,” Jazz put her hand on his shoulder, “breath in, breath out.” Danny did just that.

“Okay, then after that it just-collapsed. I don’t know how, or why, but it did and please don’t tell mom and dad!” Danny pleaded.

“Huh, that was good, great, thank you,” Niel told him in the whisper he seemed to be stuck with. Probably should find a way to fix that later.

“It’s okay Niel, but we’ve got to tell them, it’s the right thing to do,” Jazz patted him on the back and started to lead him out of the lab.

“The right thing to do is to crush their hopes and dreams?” Danny squeaked.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jazz restated, “Now, how about we go to Crazy Burger? Well, maybe after we fix your eyes huh?”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good, maybe I could just wash out whatever got stuck in my eyes-I just don’t want to bother you or worry mom and dad-“

“Niel,” Jazz said in a stern voice, looking Danny right in the eyes, “Remember what I told you?”

“Um, stop being so self-deprecating?” Danny answered with a nervous smile.

“Exactly,” Jazz said with a smirk, “now, washing your eyes is a good idea, I’m proud of you-“Danny and Niel smiled softly, “But don’t just use normal water alright? We have Blood Blossoms extract in the mirror cabinet in the master bathroom, so go use that!”

“Okay!” Danny smiled and began his way towards said bathroom, “Thank you Jazz! Please don’t tell mom and dad!” Danny heard her say ‘I will!’ as he dashed up the stairs. Thankfully, the general layout of the was the same, but everything else was different. Less test tubes and scrap metal was strewn about, but more glass bottles and pieces of cloth. Yes, test tubes and glass bottles are basically the same, the feel to it was different. Less scientific and more…magical.

Danny slammed the door open to the bathroom, breathing heavily, both physically and mentally exhausted. Walking inside, Danny closed the door and he stopped walking almost immediately once he saw his reflection. Well, he didn’t see his reflection, he saw the reflection of Niel floating around. Niel noticed this too and stood next to him, mouth agape.

“What is happening?” Danny whined, putting his head in his hands.

“Magic?” Niel said with a shrug. Niel’s voice was clearer now, no longer a whisper and more of just a regular talking voice. It was weird being able to see him now, but only in mirrors apparently. Weirder yet, his own reflection was just…gone.

“None of this makes sense, what do you mean by ‘magic?’”

“I don’t know, it’s just…magic. Magic’s weird, I don’t really know too much about it, mom and dad research it a bunch but they can’t really do it,” Niel’s talking speed increased as he went on, “Somehow I was able to open the portal so that mean I can do magic or-“

“Listen, listen, if anyone can do…magic, here, it would be me. But magic,” Danny closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Magic is just science yet to be explained. And now I am sane.”

“So you and our-mine-yours-whatever-they’re more scientific than magic right?”

“The difference between alchemy and chemistry except my parents just mash things together and hope that it works!” Niel nodded along, clearly familiar with that experience, “Seriously, my ghost catching device, was made out of a thermos.”

“Huh-“

“The microwave is extremely radioactive, our food regularly comes to life, and now I realize that my life is not as normal as I thought.”

Niel laughed, and Danny did too. A moment of solidarity passed between the two. At the end of the day, they were the same person after all, just in two different world on very different paths.

“Hey Niel, I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll help you survive this year of high school while you try to find a way to separate us, sounds good?”

“Yeah! Ooo, I wonder what your magic would do to a vampire!”

A pause. “Vampires are real?”

Another pause. “Do only ghosts exist you would or something?”

“I mean, as far as I know yeah.”

“Sounds kinda…boring. Uh, no offense!”

“Heh, wait till you see the genie ghost, or the time ghost. Ugh, why do I feel like Clockwork had something to do with this?”

“Genie-time ghost?!”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell you later. Right now you need to get back in this body so we can go to Crazy Burger! I’m guessing that’s this universe’s Nasty Burger huh?”

“…Nasty Burger?”

“Look the food’s really good okay! Just get back in the body-that’s probably not the strangest thing I’ve ever said-and let’s get out of here.”

“Sounds good me!”

“Just call me Danny.”

“Sounds good Danny.” And Niel was back in control of his body. He looked back over to where Danny was now floating, almost a mirror version of him, just with the black hair he used to have and bright, neon green eyes. Niel smiled and said, “Thank you.”

And then the duo left.

[parfumieren]

New York (Parfums de Nicolaï)

While going to art school in Manhattan, I lived in a claustrophobic railroad apartment on 43rd and 8th -- the heart of good old seedy pre-Disney Times Square. The apartment (an illegal rebuild in a building zoned strictly for business) belonged to an artist and her filmmaker husband. In exchange for room and board, I nannied their delightful two-year-old and stretched endless painters' canvases in the upstairs studio, where I could actually see the sky.

Only the width of 43rd Street separated my tiny bedroom from that monument of sleaze, the Times Square Hotel. The room right across from mine housed a young drag queen who often sat in front of her dressing room mirror, smoking Virginia Slims and examining her exquisite face for flaws. In this cold and ugly city, we were two loners connected only by the view from our windows. Yet in the hours I spent watching her watching herself, I felt a sense of wordless connection to this lovely, remote stranger. She was my New York.

That winter, every plywood wall around every construction scaffold in the city seemed to be plastered with posters advertising Rattle and Hum, the documentary film chronicling U2's Joshua Tree tour. As a longtime fan needful of distraction from the grey city streets, I went to see it in the theatres two or three times. Its iconography - deserts, highways, endless stretches of open sky -- proved a potent consolation for a small soul stranded on a hostile urban planet.

The first time I sampled Parfums de Nicolaï's New York, I was sharply startled by the inconsistency between its name and its aim. What, if anything at all, does this painted-desert fantasy have to do with the city? There's no sagebrush, no sweetgrass there. No space.

Then I remembered that when I lived in Manhattan, hemmed in all sides by concrete and stone, I longed for nothing more than to be airlifted to Joshua Tree or some similar wide-open landscape in the American Southwest. In fact, I doubt I could have understood this perfume if I hadn't lived there and been desperate to get out. New York the fragrance is not meant to provide a portrait of New York the city, but rather an olfactory mirage of the sort all city-dwellers dream about-- sky and land that stretch all the way to eternity, and no damn buildings in the way.

The best way to describe this unisex fragrance is "L’Heure Bleue Pour Homme”. It encompasses many of the same notes (citrus, carnation, vanilla) and special effects (that ineffably soft focus! those melancholy shadows!). But just as Guerlain arrived at Mitsouko by marrying a fresh peach accord to a pre-existing chypre, his descendant Patricia de Nicolaï took the supremely feminine L'Heure Bleue and Americanized it with a dash each of tumbleweed and testosterone. The results shimmer with desert heat-- but a desert of the sort ruled by Priscilla the Queen, elegant, tough, tolerant, embracing all genders, generous to a fault with her great, big, wide-open heart.

When I wear New York, I think of my New York-- a boy teetering on the cusp of womanhood, hiding her tender young heart beneath the brittle exterior of a grand courtesan. I wonder where she is, what window she looks out of now, what she sees in her mirror. If I could, I would go back in time, take her out of that dark little hotel room in the city, and give her all the skies in the world to play beneath. I'd tell her: Forget the mirror. You're perfect, you are.

Scent elements: Lemon, petitgrain, bergamot, lavender, artemesia, pimiento, pepper, patchouli, cedar, vanilla, leather, amber

[ninja-muse]

2022 Release TBR

Where the Drowned Girls Go - Seanan McGuire (contemporary fantasy) - January 4

Heartstopper, Volume Four - Alice Oseman (YA romance) - January 4 🏳️‍🌈

Battle of the Linguist Mages -  Scotto Moore (contemporary fantasy) - January 11 friend says it’s probably not my thing

Anatomy - Dana Schwartz (YA historical fantasy) - January 18

The Servant Mage - Kate Elliott (fantasy) - January 18 🏳️‍🌈

Love and Other Disasters - Anita Kelly (romance) - January 18 🏳️‍🌈

Some by Virtue Fall - Alexandra Rowland (fantasy) - January 25 🏳️‍🌈

Hot and Sour Suspects - Vivien Chien (cozy mystery) - January 25 BIPOC

The Christie Affair - Nina de Gramont (historical fiction) - February 1

Bluebird - Ciel Pierlot (science fiction) - February 8 🏳️‍🌈

Dead Silence - S.A. Barnes (science fiction/horror) - February 8

Age of Ash - Daniel Abraham (fantasy) - February 15

Carolina Built - Kianna Alexander (historical fiction) - February 22 BIPOC

Gallant - V.E. Schwab (YA fantasy) - March 1

The River of Silver - S.A. Chakraborty (historical fantasy) - March 1 BIPOC

Spelunking Through Hell - Seanan McGuire (contemporary fantasy) - March 1

Umboi Island - J.J. Dupuis (mystery) - March 8 🇨🇦

Memory's Legion - James S.A. Corey (science fiction) - March 15 I’m three books behind on the series, no way am I getting to this this year

When We Were Birds - Ayanna Llord Banwo (fabulism) - March 15 BIPOC

The Cartographers - Peng Shepherd (mystery) - March 15

How to Take Over the World - Ryan North (science/humour) March 15 🇨🇦

Comeuppance Served Cold - Marion Deeds (historical fantasy) - March 22

The Diamond Eye - Kate Quinn (historical fiction) - March 29

The Wolf Den - Elodie Harper (historical fiction) - March 29

Conversations with People Who Hate Me - Dylan Marron (memoir) - March 29

Portrait of a Thief - Grace C. Li (thriller) - April 5 BIPOC

Shadows of Berlin - David R. Gillham (historical fiction) - April 5

Amongst Our Weapons - Ben Aaronovitch (urban fantasy) - April 12 BIPOC

Persians - Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones (history) - April 12

Rosebud - Paul Cornell (science fiction) - April 26

Not Good for Maidens - Tori Bovalino (YA fantasy) - May 3

Seasonal Fears - Seanan McGuire (contemporary fantasy) - May 3

I Kissed Shara Wheeler - Casey McQuiston (YA romance) - May 3 🏳️‍🌈

Trailed - Kathryn Miles (true crime) - May 3 🏳️‍🌈

The Fairy Tellers - Nicholas Jubber (history/travel) - May 3

Siren Queen - Nghi Vo (historical fantasy) - May 10 BIPOC 🏳️‍🌈

The Hacienda - Isabel Cañas (gothic) - May 10 BIPOC

Bloomsbury Girls - Natalie Jenner (historical fiction) - May 17

The Stardust Thief - Chelsea Abdullah (fantasy) - May 17 BIPOC

Uncommon Charm - Kat Weaver and Emily Bergslien (historical fantasy) - May 17

A Cruel and Fated Light  - Ashley Shuttleworth (YA contemporary fantasy) - May 24 🏳️‍🌈 🇨🇦

A Lady for a Duke - Alexis Hall (historical romance) - May 24 🏳️‍🌈

Bad Gays - Huw Lemmey and Ben Miller (biography) - May 31 🏳️‍🌈 The more I think about it, the less I’m interested

The Rise and Reign of the Mammals - Steve Brusatte (science) - June 7

Minique - Anna Maxymiw (historical fiction) - June 7

The Grief of Stones - Katherine Addison (fantasy) - June 14 🏳️‍🌈

Hot Moon - Alan Smale (alternate history) - June 14

A Mirror Mended - Alix Harrow (fantasy) - June 14 🏳️‍🌈

A Taste of Gold and Iron - Alexandra Rowland (fantasy) - June 21 🏳️‍🌈 BIPOC

Epically Earnest - Molly Horan (YA romance) - June 21 🏳️‍🌈

The Ballad of Perilous Graves - Alex Jennings (contemporary fantasy) - June 21 BIPOC

Rogues - Patrick Radden Keefe (true crime) - June 28

Katzenjammer - Francesca Zappia (YA horror) - June 28

Death By Bubble Tea - Jennifer J. Chow (cozy mystery) - July 5 BIPOC

What Moves the Dead - T. Kingfisher (horror) - July 12

Let’s Do It - Bob Stanley (music history) - July 12

The Lady’s Guide to Fortune-Hunting - Sophie Irwin (romance) - July 12 - decided against it

The Half Life of Valery K - Natasha Pulley (historical fantasy) - July 26 🏳️‍🌈

Mint Chocolate Murder - Meri Allen (cozy mystery) - July 26

A Half-Built Garden - Ruthanna Emrys (science fiction) - July 26

A Strange and Stubborn Endurance - Foz Meadows (fantasy) - July 26 🏳️‍🌈

Don't Fear the Reaper - Stephen Graham Jones (horror) - August 2 BIPOC

High Times in the Low Parliament - Kelly Robson (historical fantasy) - August 9 🏳️‍🌈 🇨🇦

The Monsters We Defy - Leslye Penelope (historical fantasy) - August 9 BIPOC

The Oleander Sword - Tasha Suri (fantasy) - August 16 🏳️‍🌈 BIPOC

Love in the Time of Serial Killers - Alicia Thompson (romance) - August 16

Babel - R.F. Kuang (historical fantasy) - August 23 BIPOC

Be the Serpent - Seanan McGuire (urban fantasy) - September 6

The House With the Golden Door - Elodie Harper (historical fiction) - September 6

The Marriage Portrait - Maggie O’Farrell (historical fiction) - September 6

Aces Wild - Amanda DeWitt (young adult) - September 6 🏳️‍🌈

Notorious Sorcerer - Davinia Evans (fantasy) - September 13

Terry Pratchett - Rob Wilkins (biography) - September 29

Warrior of the Wind - Suyi Davies Okungbowa (fantasy) - October 4 BIPOC

Into the Windwracked Wilds - A. Deborah Baker (fantasy) - October 25

A Restless Truth -  Freya Marske (historical fantasy) - November 1 🏳️‍🌈

The World We Make - J.K. Jemisin (contemporary fantasy) - November 1 🏳️‍🌈 BIPOC

Tread of Angels - Rebecca Roanhorse (historical fantasy) - November 15 BIPOC

Remainders of the Day - Shaun Bythell (memoir) - November 29

The Water Outlaws - S.L. Huang (fantasy) - date unknown 🏳️‍🌈 BIPOC

This is fine.

[architectuul]

FOMA 42: Architecture Dead Language: The Case of Sagunto Roman Theatre Restoration

Some years ago, while working on my research regarding fragments and collective memory, I came across the book of Giorgio Grassi Architecture Dead Language (1988). The strong title-statement attracted me and engaged me to dig deeper into the world of Giorgio Grassi, his controversial restorations and eventually into the restoration of the Roman Theatre in Sagunto, Spain.

Grassi had been developing the book while he was working on a commission with Manuel Portaceli, requested by the Regional Government of Valencia to carry out a study for a potential intervention in the Roman Theatre of Sagunto. The building, constructed in the first century AD, suffered a gradual decay over a long period of time and eventually a series of conservation works led to a distortion of the original construction. Instead of the requested study, Grassi presented a complete restoration proposal based on the existing ruins and the roman theatre typology. 

He suggested to demolish all the additions from the 20th century (which actually have altered the Roman typology into Greek), bring the ruin into his original state and eventually create an open museum with all the original theatre pieces. Despite the opposition expressed by many people in Sagunto, the work started in 1990.

Dead is a language that has no speakers and cannot be used to convey meaning. Grassi uses this analogy to talk about decayed pieces, about ruins. He explains that fragments of the past are impossible to reconstruct and make sense, because they have lost their context to which they referred, have lost their coherence and meaning thus becoming a “dead language”. 

A still life whose only ability is self-projection. In this way the idea of architecture is interpreted, for Grassi, as a museum of objects. A museum is the place where all objects, moving in space and time, are exhibited as important works becoming merely images of themselves. His restoration works were creating a timeless context/background (like a boundless hall of mirrors) in order to display fragments with architectural value, fragments of memories which they were removed from their original places and their usual functions. 

The architect’s work was limited to understanding and locating these fragments. In Grassi’s case the meditation on the essential in architecture is the rediscovery at the zero point, at the origin, of fundamental elements. The wall, the empty space, the place, the relationship with existing forms, the typology and morphology, the simple – too simple and archaistic in some cases – rules of construction.

In this work, the ruins of the Roman theatre became literally the stones on which the new structure was constructed. According to Grassi, the value of the ruin is highlighted by the fact that it is always part of a whole. Thus, using the ancient fragments and with the aim of restoring the form of the Roman theatre, which had been lost from the previous interventions, the architect proceeded to the construction of the scene (scanae), which would be the border of the amphitheater (cavaea) and at the same time would complete the typology of the theatre. The scenewas for him "a space of fantasy in which architecture and theatre are intertwined". [1]

In general, the scene in Roman theaters was a special and flexible place. It was divided into two levels (in contrast to the ancient Greek), of which the first level (pulpitum) essentially connected the stage with the orchestra and was the place of action of the actors. Grassi describes it as the 'useful part' and reconstructs it from the remains of ancient fragments. The second and upper part of the scene (frons scanae) was rebuilt, retaining the most important elements of its typology: the three entrances. 

The other openings throughout the stage do not take part in the action, but are necessary for acoustic reasons. Grassi followed a strictly architectural system in the restoration of the whole theatre stage, since it was the most fundamental feature of the Roman theatre, which remained unchanged over the years.

Reconstructing the upper part of the scene (frons scanae) was the most demanding and detailed work of the whole intervention, since Grassi literally created an open air museum. The architect worked on dismantling an old archeological museum, located at the base of the Roman theatre, which exhibited material from the ongoing demolition of buildings in the historic center of the city. Most of these exhibits consisted of pieces of decorative elements, parts of statues and some larger pieces of mosaics of special value. 

Grassi, placed all these spolia on the theatric scene turned into an architectural iconostasis. He also, used the larger exhibits at the lower level of the stage, recalling the composition of the ancient Roman scanae, with great immediacy. Thus, the whole stage witnessed the brilliance of the ruin, while at the same time it reminded of "the densely decorated theatre scene found in the illustrations of old art history books.”[1] Grassi somehow, managed to reveal the internal mechanisms of the scene, turning it into the fantastic place it used to be and at the same time a spectacle of itself.

Regarding the amphitheater, a partial restoration was carried out, with the central sector being its only renovated part. The ruin remained intact in several places, an architectural solution that seemed more consistent with the stage work.

Grassi's work on the Roman theatre in Sagunto touched on a subject that often divides archaeologists, architects and conservation experts. Due to the reactions against the new construction that hid the amphitheater, obscuring at the same time the view of the city from it, the works stopped for a long time. However, the Grassi claimed that: "we built a theatre in the way of the Romans and we did it with means: our culture and the eyes of our time. This is exactly how a Roman theatre could be built today.” [1] For the architect, there is no difference between reconstruction and new construction. Since the relationship with the historical experience is a necessary and unavoidable condition for every project, then all the projects are, for Grassi, reconstruction projects.

Of course, Grassi did not aim to build a project that would be the lesson for all subsequent studies. After all, he himself was never dogmatic with his ideas and adopted doubt as the only creatively acceptable attitude. "To be perfect, without omitting anything that is not self-canceling" [2], he specifically mentions as an epigrammatic phrase for the work of the architect. However, through this project he raised an important question: is there a correct way of intervening in our architectural heritage? In which level, in the end, reaches a reconstruction work and what is the significance of strict historical preservation laws that mainly lead to mimetic reconstruction and thus a mimetic destruction of fragments of the past?

Gadamer argues that “Understanding is to be thought of less as a subjective act than as participating in an event of tradition.” [3] In this sense, Grassi seems to express a broad understanding of tradition. He invokes tradition as a continuum of human coexistence with the built environment within its temporality. His method could be understood as an endless process of understanding the typology and forms of the past, through a repetitive, almost aphasic, construction logic that redefines new meanings, each time creating an invisible grid of tensions.

—

#FOMA 42: Christina Serifi 

Portrait photo © Norman Posselt

Christina Serifi is an architect, researcher and urbanist. She isalso co-founder of TiriLab (Future Architecture Platform Fellow) an initiative which explores multi cultural heritage related to techniques, technologies and culture specifics from communities in northern Greece. Christina is associate researcher in Terreform, where she has coordinated various publications regrading indigenous knowledge, alternative educational models and self sufficiency. Her work investigates forms, collective memories, typologies and local practices, focusingon urbanfragments, in-between spaces, as well as osculation of architectural and social space, Christina has been awarded with the Fulbright fellowship and Urban Design Award ’14 from CCNY.

All Photos © Chen Hao

_

Notes: 1. From Grassi’s interview in Displayer magazine, vol 3/2009. 2. Patestos, K. (1998), “Giorgio Grassi: Texts for Architecture”, Athens: Kastaniotis. 3. Gadamer, H.G. (2004). “Truth and Method”. Trans. J. Weinsheimer, D. G.Marshall. London: Continuum.

[honourablejester]

Kindly forgive a random burst of ego, but I’m reading back through Northern Babylon, a dieselpunk LotR AU I wrote back in 2015, and … okay. I think I did pretty good on the worldbuilding? I mean, looking at it with D&D on the brain for the past year or so, I feel like the city of New Rhovanion would make a pretty good Eberron-ish campaign setting.

A Metropolis-esque dieselpunk fantasy city, built by a semi-forced alliance of elves, men and dwarves driven from their previous homes (Moria, Mirkwood) by the encroaching Southern Powers, some of them very dark (Dol Guldur).

A city of vertical layers, the vast stone-and-ironworks of the dwarves at the base, carved into the stone of the mountain the city rings, the vast transplanted forestscape of the elves at the top, a towerscape of gardens and glasshouses and aqueduct gondolas, and then the homes and markets of men in the lakeside district and the middle heights of the towers.

A city torn apart in recent memory both by the occupation by a dragon in elven disguise which temporarily drove out the dwarven and human inhabitants, and resulted in significant structural and racial damage during the insurrection that followed, and then later the results of a vast continental war that, while it didn’t do too much direct damage to the city besides airstrikes on the elven towers, still left a lot of scars.

A city struggling to rebuild itself, both in terms of buildings and relationships, in the new and sudden peace, where almost all the old enemies have been defeated, and it’s time for old grudges to possibly be laid aside and new cooperation build once again. Possibly.

Like, this bit:

The city had been spared most of the ravages of the war in the south. They'd held off Mordor's advance south of the Running, managing to avoid military occupation, though the Lake District, the still-extant swathes of Mirkwood Forest, and the surface towers of the city itself had taken some damage. The first two had been the cost of stopping the Easterling ground advance, something Gimli knew had a much higher cost in lives, dwarven, elven and human alike, than it had in infrastructure. The latter had been the result of Nazgul airstrikes relatively early in the war, before the Thornhoth Eagles had driven them back south and the land war in Gondor had taken up too much of the Witch-King's attention to bother with anything north of Dol Guldur.

The strikes hadn't done too much serious damage. Not to the structures themselves, at least. New Rhovanion's towers had held strong against dragonfire bombs less than a generation ago, things that could melt rock and steel and concrete as easily as flesh. They'd withstood the explosive anarchy of Smaug's terrorist campaign, when over half the city's dwarven and human populations had been forcibly expelled, and urban fighting in the undercity had killed hundreds more. Nazgul overflights, for all their potency as a terror weapon, just didn't have the same kind of destructive power.

They'd taken chunks out of the city-top forestscape, though. Now that he had the eye for it, Gimli could see the places where it was still under repair. Several of the vast tiered balconies and the street-spanning aqueducts had given way altogether, even now still in the process of being rebuilt, and there were a thousand strange shards of sunlight to be seen as the great glasshouses and refracting mirrors were moved and repaired across the upper city. Worse than that, though, at least for those to whom mattered, were the vast barren stretches where the forests and gardens themselves had been burned away, leaving only cold concrete, melted steel and blacked earth behind them. The great hanging gardens of New Rhovanion, the city-top cathedral of light, had apparently taken the brunt of the city's physical blows this time.

It was strange for Gimli to find himself noticing that, to find himself understanding the pain of it. Dwarves in New Rhovanion didn't spend a lot of time looking upwards, after all. They had their own section of the city to be thinking about, the vast underground mines and thoroughfares, the lower reaches of the towers and the surface streetscapes where the city monorails and the vast ironworks lived. The Ereborean District, carved back into the mountain and the rock beneath the city, its oldest and purest part, was where Gimli had spent so much of his life. It was strange for him to spend so much time looking upward, moving upward.

He'd changed, though. The war had changed him, the things he'd seen, the things Legolas had shown him. He had an idea, now, what that damage meant to the elves of New Rhovanion. He'd seen his elf's face when their train had finally pulled into sight of the city and the scars across its upper reaches had become obvious. He'd seen the blankness that had slipped into Legolas' eyes.

And somehow, because of it, here he was. Gimli Glóinson, an Ereborean dwarf born and bred, standing on a balcony on the side of the Greenwood Oropherion Tower, trying desperately not to think about how many hundreds of feet too high into the air he was. Below him, down at street level and just above it, the great central depot of the Iron Rail Company spewed trains out onto the raised tracks above Oakenshield Avenue, and lighter engines onto the magnetic monorails a few storeys above them. With the repaired mirrors on the upper reaches of the tower filling the street canyon with light almost all the way to the bottom, it was terrifyingly obvious exactly how many feet above that familiar sight he now was.

It wasn't the same, the heights compared to the depths. He'd looked into chasms hundreds of feet deep in Khazad-dûm without a qualm, the great bridge spans of the subterranean Dwarrowdelf inspiring more awe in him than terror. That had been no less of a fall. With the artificial electric suns, no less visible a one either. He knew that. It was just ... it was different up here. It was different on the surface, on one of the tallest towers in New Rhovanion, on some flimsy elven balcony that had blasted tree roots sticking out of the bottom of it. He could see half the city from here. More to the point, he could see how it was all beneath him.

He should have stayed inside, he thought desperately. He should have kept to the interior atrium. The balconies and rooftops and external terraces were the realms of the elves, but the towers that bore them all up were still dwarven construction. The internal shafts, insulated from the sheer external drop and lit exclusively by light refracted from above, had managed to stay comfortably subterranean in feel despite the best efforts of their human and elven occupants. Even the Greenwood Oropherion, the great bastion of Wilderland Elvendom, full of light and water and greenery and with as much of the exterior reaches open to the elements as elvenly possible, hadn't been able to disguise the solid, quintessentially dwarven nature of the stone it was built in.

Like. I feel like I did good there? I feel like that has teeth and potential. Heh. A dieselpunk fantasy city, with a lot of wars behind it, and a tentatively hopeful future.

And this little description of High Elven Councillor Thranduil:

He'd seen Thranduil Oropherion before, of course. Mostly in newsreels, but from a distance as well. The Elven High Councillor had a talent for being seen looking imperiously downwards from various heights, and had a particular fondness for the skycars and the aqueduct gondolas. He was easily recognisable, wearing those long, almost archaic greatcoats the elves favoured, all bronze and green, with his long golden hair bizarrely braided back with something that looked for all the world like live ivy. Even the most deep dwelling, surface-averse dwarves could recognise Thranduil on sight.

He looked a little different now. Some of it was the informality of his dress. Gimli was almost positive that few, if any, dwarves had ever seen the Elven Councillor in shirtsleeves and waistcoat before, his hair looped back into a tail that was, yes, held with an actual trailing plant, for reasons probably only an elf would know. It made him look smaller, somehow, maybe a little bit more fragile. Not quite the distant, impressive creature he usually appeared.

Why do I have so much more fun with worldbuilding and characters than I do with things like, you know, actual plot?

[bookshopkat]

Asian Fantasy Novels for the Lunar New Year

Photo by Thyla Jane

Happy Year of the Ox!  The Lunar New Year, or Spring Festival, is a major celebration in many Asian countries.  Marking the first new moon of the lunar calendar, this celebration lasts for days and is a time for family and friends, lantern festivals, dragon and lion dances, gifts of money, fireworks, and feasts.  There’s something enchanting about the Lunar New Year, with its bright lanterns lining every street and its sparkling starbursts lighting the night sky.  At its heart is tradition, cultural beliefs, and a mixture of mythology and magic.  Simple charms are used to bring good luck and drive away evil.  The supernatural has a firm place amid the celebrations, from shoe-stealing ghosts in South Korea to Vietnamese kitchen gods to the lion-like monster Nian in China.  As such, this holiday presents a marvelous opportunity to both celebrate various Asian cultures and conjure a sense of wonder.  So, to celebrate the Lunar New Year, here are four fantasy novels rooted in Asian culture and lore.

Jade City by Fonda Lee

On the island of Kekon, jade grants those with the ability to wield it special powers, but promises pain and death for anyone lacking the right genetics who tries to use it.  As a result, jade smuggling is a profitable business and those families with the capacity to use the mineral, called Jade Bones, make up the highest class of society. But now ordinary citizens are somehow gaining the ability to use jade, and it is throwing the society of Kekon into turmoil.  As suspicion fuels inter-clan warfare among the noble class, the future of the island nation hangs in the balance.  In the midst of this chaos stands three siblings. Kaul Lan, the new, young, peace-loving leader of his family, finds himself faced with the uncomfortable necessity of bloodshed as he tries to steer his clan through these uncertain times.  Lan’s brother, the hot-tempered and passionate Kaul Hilo, is like a warrior straight out of old tales: honorable, protective, and hungry for battle and glory.  Their sister, Shae, is an independent modern woman who chose to cast aside her jade along with her traditional roles in favor of freedom and marriage to an outsider.  Added to this cast of characters is Wen, Hilo’s forbidden lover, who is burdened by the combination of coming from a disgraced family and being a rare Stone Eye, a supposedly cursed person completely immune to jade.  All four have their differences and disagreements, and the tension between them mirrors the growing strain in their homeland at large.  It will take them all, however, to find out who is responsible for the dangerous drug allowing non-Jade Bones to wield the sacred stone before it is too late.

This is a novel that bridges high fantasy and urban fantasy, weaving a tale of heroism, betrayal, and intrigue against the backdrop of a thoroughly modernized enchanted society. Lee’s narrative is intricate and interesting, her world building is exceptional, and her magical system is comprehensive and intelligent.  Running throughout the entire tale are elements of Chinese myth and culture, with folklore concerning gods and monsters playing a vital part.  Complex, well-written, and engaging, Jade City is grand and unique fantasy adventure.

Tears of the Wind by Phung Lam

This collection of short stories is a touching as it is magical.  Taking place on the fictional Island of Wishes, each tale explores human nature and the deepest desires people harbor in dark corners of their minds. From a lonely heart seeking solace to a soul hungry with ambition, this anthology explores the not only the power of wishes, but the question: what would people do if the one thing they truly wanted most could be theirs?  It’s basically impossible to find an English version of this book, and I had to rely on the Smart Book translation application for the ebook format.  That led to some odd phrasing in portions of the text, but the collection was nonetheless enjoyable. That is because Lam writes not only with imagination but also with a keen understanding of humanity.

The narratives are dreamlike, the content somewhat akin to magical realism and the tone ultimately surrealistic.  Ranging from heartrending to horrifying, Lam weaves stories about the darkest parts of ourselves, when we harbor wishes we dare not name, as well as about the unforeseen and often terrible consequences of getting exactly what we think we want.  The author explores the nature of love, the power of longing, and the baser side of our very nature. It’s an engaging collection that seems, and its core, to turn upon one basic thought: be careful what you wish for.

The Ghost Bride by Yangsze Choo

Set in late-nineteenth-century Malaya, on the island of Borneo, this novel sparkles with folk beliefs and superstitions.  Li Lan is a spirited girl and only child from a family wrapped in what can only be called genteel poverty.  Her life is certainly not perfect—her mother is dead, her father, although loving, has allowed his grief to lead to opium addiction, and her marriage prospects are extremely limited—but things aren’t so very bad.  Apart from occasional longings for beautiful new clothing such as she sees other wealthier girls sporting, Li Lan would be reasonably content if it weren’t for one thing: her father has asked her if she would like become a ghost bride.  He says it almost as a joke, but the moment he speaks the words, the wheels of fate start to turn. The rare tradition of ghost brides is meant to mollify the spirits of wealthy young men who died without marrying, and it presents both tempting and terrifying prospects. While accepting would mean financial help for her aging father as well as a place for Li Lan herself in one of Malacca city’s most affluent households, it would also mean giving up any dreams of love, passion, or children of her own.

Li Lan, of course, refuses, especially when she starts to develop feelings for another decided living man.  But the choice may not be as easy as the thinks.  She finds herself haunted by Lim Tiang Ching, her spectral suitor, and he is determined to have her.  Tiang Ching, the young woman soon learns, was selfish and cruel when he was alive, and death hasn’t improved him. Desperate, Li Lan seeks the help of a local wise woman, and unwittingly finds herself embroiled in a supernatural struggle where ghosts are all too real and her only hope hangs on a mysterious young man who may be more than he seems, and who is most definitely keeping secrets.  On top of that, she begins to realize that the Lim family is harboring some dark secrets of their own, and one of them may be deadly.  

Choo’s narrative is imaginative as well as brimming with cultural folklore and traditions.  A blend of mystery and fantasy, it is engaging from start to finish.  Many of the characters are interesting and a little quirky, although a couple feel less well developed and there were a few moments when I felt the protagonist was a bit too flighty for my tastes. Nonetheless, this is a fun, entertaining fantasy book, perfect for an evening of light reading with a cup of tea or coffee at your side.

When You Trap a Tiger by Tae Keller

This is a truly wonderful novel blending together magical realism, mythology, family drama, and a deeply touching coming of age tale. It’s a beautifully written and imaginative narrative where opposites don’t so much collide as they do interweave in a complex dance.  Dreams tangle with reality, childhood blurs with adolescence, Korean tradition intersects with modern America, folklore mingles with daily life, and stories become solid enough to touch. Through it all runs a profound understanding of emotion and the human spirit.

Lily has always loved visiting her Korean grandmother, catching stars to learn what stories they hold and listening to traditional tales from their ancestral homeland.  This, however, is different.  Now Lily, along with her mother and her sister, are moving in with the old woman because Lily’s grandmother is sick, and isn’t getting any better.  A new city, a new school, and new fears about her beloved relative would all be difficult enough, but Lily has another problem: upon arriving, she sees a tiger straight out of one of her grandmother’s tales.  This is both a metaphor for many things: words unsaid, terminal illness, fear, and long-ago mistakes.   It is, however, also an introduction of the magical real.  Upon informing her grandmother about the big cat, Lily begins unraveling the old woman’s greatest tale yet, and takes the first step in a personal journey to discover family secrets and leave her childhood behind.  As marvelous as it is heartfelt, When You Trap a Tiger addresses conflicts between generations and cultures, as well as the reconciliation of the past, through the lens myths and storytelling. At its core, this is a novel about the power of both love and stories, as well as about one girl finding herself.

Perhaps one of these books will make an excellent companion over the next several days as celebrations of the Lunar New Year progress. Blending Asian folklore with a sense of the fantastic, these works may prove to be the perfect way for those not immersed in these festivities to still capture a bit of the season’s spirit.  Readers hungry for an interesting narrative that is a little out of the ordinary will likely find any one of these to be a feast for the imagination, as well as a wonderful way to start of the Year of the Ox.  Happy Reading!

[gimme-a-hand-scaevola]

A review of the book The Rook by Daniel O’Malley that nobody ever asked for...

Ok so @chemcat92 recommended me this book and I listened to it on audiobook and I just... have a lot of thoughts. I haven’t read the sequel and I’m torn if I will. Having watched some AMVs of the show, it’s a hard pass. My review is going to be in three parts:

1. The plot

2. Wasted Potential - In General

3. Wasted Potential - Gestalt the Most Wasted Character Potential I’ve Read since Drizzt Do’Urden 

Obviously spoilers under the cut. 

Part 1: The Plot - i.e. I think Daniel discovered books four days before he started writing 

Ok so... The plot of this book. It starts off STRONG I will give it that. Myfanwy Thomas wakes up in a rainy part surrounded by bodies wearing latex gloves and no memories. She soon discovers her previous self lost her memories but because she was organized and knew it was coming, she has eased new Myfanwy’s transition. She gets to choose to stay in her life through letters and then we get an easy way to give flashbacks. Anyway this part RULES. 

Honestly, the book starts strong as hell. Myfanwy discovers she has supernatural powers over people’s nervous systems and is a trained bureaucrat for a supernatural wing of the government. This all runs sort of like a combination of Heroes and Harry Potter in the best way possible. And here is where we find the strongest part of the book: the superpowers. 

We don’t have to look that far to find Heroes type shows or books where everyone has a special ability, so if you’re going to go that route, you’ve gotta bring it. And honestly, Daniel brings it. They powers are cool as hell, they’re inventive, they’re well bounded. I felt like I understood what people’s powers and limitations were. We were in a land with magic, but it never felt cheap. This is going to dovetail into my absolute RANT about Gestalt but give me a sec to get there. 

Ok. So honestly I don’t even have any complaints until the third act. Act one gives us the set up, act two introduced the big bad the Grafters and so far so good. We’ve got good but elitist supernatural guys vs. bad but more egalitarian supernatural guys. We also know that it was someone in the supernatural org (it has a name but the name is so stupid I can’t spell it) that betrayed our protag and stole her memories and they’re still around and teamed up with the evil Grafters. Intrigue?? Don’t know who to trust???? Love it. 

For some reason everyone is either old, or hot, or so inhuman it’s viscerally horrifying. Love this touch. Eleanor from the Good Place taught us that it’s totally free to imagine everyone in a story as super hot. And it is. So they’re all super hot. Love it. Good commitment, Daniel. 

But then we get to Act three. So, this was a big swing on ol Danny’s part because a lot of the effect of this had to do with carrying out mystery. We’d built a lot of tension on the suspense  Who Betrayed Myfanwy. So obviously it’s really important for me to be surprised or at least satisfied with who this is. (As an aside, I would have been ok with guessing correctly, I definitely don’t subscribe to surprise trumping cohesive plot). Ok. With that on paper... like... holy shit. What a stupid “reveal.” 

So in part 1, like the first scene we get of old Myfanwy’s letters giving us context, she says that her apartment at work was inherited from a dude Conrad something that got promoted. And then she says it’s super badly decorated, and later we see it and this shit is straight out of Austin Powers, mirror over a round bed, The Whole Shebang. But she also says that this guy who otherwise is supposed to be very smooth and charismatic like... asks her about the decor.... every time they interact. Every Time They Interact. The second this was mentioned (WHICH IS AFTER WE KNOW SHE WAS BETRAYED) I'm like “oh ok so this guy bugged her room he’s the villain” and I only wasn’t sure because it was WAY too obvious. 

But no. He’s the villain. He has a big reveal where he’s like “AND I BUGGED YOUR ROOM” and I'm like... well... yeah. Of course you did. But here’s the thing tho... Myfanwy’s like... WHOLE ASS JOB is planning covert ops. So... is she good at her job??? IS SHE???? 

But we also don’t actually show how characters are based on their actions, we are just told how they are. But we will circle back to that in the Gestalt part. That’s honestly the sum of my rant about the plot. It was nothing. It put all its eggs in the basket of the worst most boring reveal of all time. Daniel, I think you might just be boring. 

Part 2: Wasted Potential - Everything but Gestalt who gets a special part to themselves.

The big sin of this book might just be too many good ideas. There’s a lot of characters, they all do cool stuff, but we have like 200 pages, so there wasn’t enough time to do anything with all these guys. I got lost about who was who like 80 times because they’re basically all sneaky hot magic guys. One of them smokes and is a soldier and he seems chill. 

There’s a vampire and he gets a scene and a long intro that reads more like a wiki page. Like it was interesting but you would have lost NOTHING cutting him as a character except that he was cool. You never ever believe that he was the bad guy because it’s super well established in the Certified Back Story that he could give two shits about the politics of the humans. He’s there bc he’s an adorably young vampire who is very curious so his dad set him up as a powerful government agent as though it was enrolling him in a prep school. Love it, but again, we don’t.... need him around. 

There’s a lady who can walk through dreams and I thought she was going to be important based on the fanfare of her introduction but then we forget about her basically entirely. 

There’s a whole American wing that we also only see anything interesting about in side story. Basically the world building is really good. Like pretty superb to be honest. But it’s bracketing a story that is nothing so it makes even good characters seems really random. And that bring us to:

Part 3: My Darling, Gestalt. My Type. My Weakness. What a Sad Little Thing You Are (Also misogyny)

Alright... if the rest of this review wasn’t salty enough for you... let the salt begin. Gestalt. So named because of the word meaning larger than the sum of its parts. And so they were destined to be. And so they were most definitely not. So Gestalt’s whole thing is that they are one consciousness with four bodies. They can either control one body at a time and sort of shut the others down or they can control them all at once but that becomes harder if one of them requires more attention than another, like if one is in a fight. 

Two twins (men), one fraternal brother, and a sister. If anyone is thinking “uhoh, only one girl, hmm can Daniel handle that? Seems like maybe some Smurfette style misogyny-lite is coming,” you would be wrong. Super wrong. Because it is not misogyny-lite. It’s aggressive Fight-Me-In-A-Perkins-Parking-Lot misogyny. So go fuck yourself, Dan. 

Alright, so to number Gestalt’s sins. 

1. Scrape off some of that intro mustard.

They’re introduced in the LONGEST fucking passage I’ve ever read telling me that this dude is hard to talk to and weird. Like, I’m in an urban fantasy book already, I'm all set. Also... bitch SHOW ME they’re weird. Like can I see some interactions that give me second hand embarrassment??? No. It is actually never uncomfortable to talk to Gestalt. I only know that because people are super fucking rude about them. But it is never earned. So I don’t feel sympathy when people are like “Oh noooo you have to spend a car ride with Gestalt? Ewwwww sorry.” I’m just like, “What’s your fucking problem? They seem fine.” 

2. They’re supposed to be Bad At Planning but when?? 

Alright so there ARE times they’re bad at planning and we will GET TO THAT. But it’s only post-reveal like... what we are told during a monologue that they were dumb as shit. And that wasn’t even like not being good w/ details like it’s implied they are, it’s literally like doing dumb ass stuff. And it felt more like my bud Dan didn’t have a good handle on why stuff was dumb as rain than Gestalt being silly. 

Also.... this is a stupid use of this sort of character. They’re dumb and bad at planning??? THEY’RE A JOINT CONSCIOUSNESS why would you waste that making them “Good at kicking ass.” ugh. Fine. 

3. They get sidelined IMMEDIATELY 

So a guy named Pumice Stone or Kettle or Lil boy Bad At This or something outs that Gestalt is working with the Grafters because he like.... wasn’t paying attention. It was boring. But anyway so they capture two of the bodies and then stop addressing Gestalt until the end. They have one weird scene where the protagonist like.... freaks them out but ok. Fine. Why is Gestalt so Yelly. Why are so many villains in this book yelly. Ew. 

4. The REVEAL MONOLOGUE. 

I know this is a long ass review already. But my Feelings Must be Heard. So in the end when Conrad surprises no one but “smart” Myfanwy that he was the bad guy, we also get a reveal from the surviving Gestalt bodies that:

a. There’s an incest baby

b. They’re afraid of death

c. They’re so phenomenally stupid I have lost all interest in them

So... this is where the misogyny comes in. I’ll note here that the only time we interact w/ Eliza, the special girl body, is when she takes a carried to Hogwarts the super secret magic school with Myfanwy and she doesn’t do anything except we get the internal note that she’s like... gained weight. This is the misogyny-lite we expect. (And no, Dan, you don't get any points bc a female character is the only pleased she got pudgy bc YOU wrote the female character so we’re all set there.)

And then we discover that the weird blonde (lol oh yeah they’re all hot blondes) baby that Conrad “Evil Austin Powers” British-Last-Name has with his weird wife is actually a Gestalt body that Eliza had after she boned down with her other body who is genetically a brother and consciously herself. 

K. Ok. I have. Ok. Alright. Daniel. Ok. 

SUBPART A: My Feelings about Gestalt: Oh Eliza, my darling, my dear, would that I could bring you Justice

So after Eliza is shot dead one of the interchangeable boy bodies of Gestalt yells at Myfanwy about how terrible that is bc it was the only body who could bear children so now THE HORROR they’ll die. 

For god’s fucking sake Daniel O’Malley. What the fuck is your goddamn problem. You LITERALLY wrote a Smurfette Syndrome character who is only important because she can have babies. She is literally just there to be a baby-box. What the fuck. Get fucking wrecked. Thank GOD Starz cut your program and fuck the Aurealis Awards for giving you an award for this fucking book. But they’re a sci-fi award so this is probably super progressive for them. I was pleasantly annoyed by the basic nature of this book until this part. Now I am just done with your content. This was more overtly sexist that Supernatural. So... real swing and a miss. 

ANYWAY FORTUNATELY this opens a whole new can of worms that I get to ruthlessly mock certified Basic Bitch Daniel O’Malley for. 

SubPart 2: Gestalt Raises Interesting Philosophical Questions Daniel Isn’t Smart Enough to Address

So, remember, I would have cut this dude more slack if he didn’t do that to Eliza. Gestalt, to be honest, this whole review is dedicated to what you Could Have Been. 

Interesting Questions or Comments We Could Have Asked:

Does having a baby being one of five of your bodies affect your consciousness? That thing doesn’t have object permanence? Is there like an intellectual cost to having another baby body? No, we don’t care. I think we just had there be a baby bc “Weird sister-sex” was as interesting as Daniel could get. Side Note: The obvious question of “lol haha lol is it incest or mAsTurBation is not going to be addressed here bc it is literally too boring to consider)

Does having a body who textually is said to have post-partum depression affect your joint consciousness? If not, why bring it up?? Bc she has “weird lady disease” is that why???

Are they....afraid of death????? Why didn’t you ever bring this up? Why have they showed only excitement at the prospect of very dangerous fights up to this point? Why are all four bodies in the field. 

WHY ARE ALL FOUR BODIES IN THE FIELD. Ok so here is one of those points that is definitely stupid but stupid in a dumb as dirt way. If you were afraid to lose your baby-box body, why would you send her into battle? 

Why didn’t they freeze a bunch of her eggs? In fact, why did she bear it at all? Why put your one female body that you only want for babies through that sort of danger? Canonically they all get paid an absurd amount and Gestalt is paid for each body, they can afford a surrogate.  

Why let a weird dude who is at best contemptuous of you raise your baby body? Why wouldn’t you want to do that? Doesn’t that give him a huge amount of leverage over you? 

Is the quality fo Gestalt’s form destined to decline if genetically they can only make more bodies by full genetic sibling offspring? Does that scare them? Again... does their physical brain affect their consciousness? 

If so... maybe that would be a good reason for them to want to join up with the Grafters who are way ahead in genetic research and engineering. 

ANYWAY Gestalt is sexist as shit and boring as hell and had SO MUCH WEIRD POTENTIAL. 

In summary: It was definitely fun but Fuck you, Daniel O’Malley 

[yuexuan]

Fic Tag Guide

I’m not the most conscientious when it comes to providing warnings and basic information in my fic recs. So I thought I’ll create a guide about the common tags used for CN fiction summaries/tag systems.

Disclaimer: This is not all-encompassing and most of them are drawn from my reading of danmei novels (although tag application may extend beyond the danmei circle). I tried grouping them under similar tags, but know that these groupings are not set in stone. Feel free to let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Additionally, please check out Link 1 and Link 2 who have also done similar posts.

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古代/古风 (Gǔdài/Gǔfēng) “ancient times/ancient style” - Stories set in historical timeline or contain historical elements

武侠 (Wǔxiá) “martial heroes” - Heroic stories focus on martial arts; may or may not integrate more fantastical elements.

仙侠 (Xiānxiá) “immortal heroes” - Fics falling under the xianxia genre typically draw heavily from Chinese mythology/folklore, Taoism, Buddhism, mixed with some martial arts. The concept of ‘cultivation’ (修仙 Xiūxiān) to achieve immortality is central to this genre. Fics are usually set in historical periods.

民国 (Minguo) “Republic of China” - Fics with backgrounds set in the time period of the Republic of China/Minguo Era (~1912-1949). Stories under this category tend to include a lot of tragedies, wars, complicated politics, and anti-Japanese sentiments. I tend to avoid minguo fics, but of the few ones I read, the trope of a military officer (军官 Jūnguān) falling in love with an opera actor (sometimes derogatorily referred to as 戏子 Xìzi) is quite popular.

宫廷 (Gōngtíng) “imperial court” - Fics focused on imperial court drama.

玄幻 (Xuánhuàn) “fantasy” - Stories with elements of Chinese mythology/folklore. Note that xuanhuan novels are NOT limited to historical settings.

魔幻 (Móhuàn) “magical realism” - A genre of novels incorporating ‘magical realism’ (think Lord of the Rings). Alternatively, another term 奇幻 (Qíhuàn) is also commonly employed.

西幻 (Xī huàn) ‘Western fantasy’ - This is sometimes used interchangeably with Móhuàn, but can also refer to general stories with Western-fantasy/folklore elements (e.g. vampires/werewolves). Alternatively, the term 欧风 (Ōufēng) - ‘European style’ may be used.

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现代/都市情缘 (Xiàndài/dūshì qíngyuán) “modern day/urban love” - Fics set in the contemporary era/within urban setting.

豪门 (Háomén) “wealthy elite” - Featuring one or more characters originating from wealth. A common trope is the ‘Cinderella’-esque dynamic where a commoner gets noticed by a rich dude and is embroiled into the conflicts of the rich.

娱乐圈/演艺圈 (Yúlè quān/yǎnyì quān) “entertainment/showbiz” - Stories where the characters are actors/celebrities. A common trope is the ‘Cinderella’ dynamic where an unpopular artist (e.g. 十八线艺人 ‘18th-line artist’) gets into a relationship with a top-tier celebrity (e.g. 影帝/一线明星 ‘1st-line celebrity’)

网络/网游/网配 (Wǎngluò/wǎngyóu/wǎng pèi) “Internet/online games/online matching” - Characters in the fic develop their relationship through the web. Entails a lot of chat-speak and web memes. A common trope involves the main pairing meeting each other online and in real life, but not knowing their alternative web ego until the Big Reveal.

军文/军旅生涯 (Jūn wén/jūnlǚ shēngyá) “military adventures/life” - Characters are part of the military, usually involves power couple dynamics.

职场 (Zhíchǎng) “workplace” - Office-setting fics. A related category is 霸道总裁 (Bàdào zǒngcái) “domineering CEO”  featuring the popular trope of a possessive, rich, and popular CEO with his partner

校园 (Xiàoyuán) “campus” - Romantic slice of life stories set on campuses.

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未来世界 (Wèilái shìjiè) “future world” - Fics set in futuristic timeline

末日/末世 (Mòrì/mòshì) “doomsday” - Fics with apocalyptic-settings; usually contain survival-focused plots

丧尸 (Sàngshī) “zombies” - Usually survival-oriented fics with zombies

星际 (Xīngjì) “interstellar” - Fics set in outer space and alien planets. A common plot features the conflicts between the ‘Federation’ (i.e. 联邦 Liánbāng) vs. the ‘Empire’ (i.e. 帝国 Dìguó). May or may not include a third party: the ‘worm/insect species’ (虫族 Chóngzú).

机甲 (Jījiǎ) “mecha” - Futuristic fics where mecha with virtual personalities are prominent features.

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盗墓 (Dàomù) “tomb-raiding” - A specific genre dealing with tomb-raiding adventures and hauntings.

灵异 (Língyì) “supernatural” - Self-explanatory

悬疑推理 (Xuányí tuīlǐ) “mystery” - Suspense and mystery

探险 (Tànxiǎn) “adventure” - Self-explanatory

无限流 (Wúxiàn liú) “Infinite flow/style” - This genre of fics is all inclusive; i.e. including elements from sci-fi, history, religion, myth, game, animation etc. where characters enter into different settings. A common example is where the characters are forced into a game in which they have to pass through multiple levels/settings in order to survive. For more details on this genre and their sub-division, please see here.

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重生穿越 (Chóngshēng chuānyuè) “rebirth and transmigration” - The main protagonist died and is transmigrated either back in time or into another dimension or timeline. Alternative/related tags that you might see include:

穿书/快穿/系统  (Chuān shū/kuài chuān/xìtǒng) “book transmigration/quick transmigration/system” - System specifically refers to the transmigrator having an internal system that interacts with them in their new body. Think RPG style games lol

金手指 (Jīn shǒuzhǐ) “golden finger(s)” - A common trope in transmigration novels where the transmigrator is gifted with talents/powers that allow them to thrive in the new world.

前世今生 (Qiánshì jīnshēng) ‘past and present” - Characters continuing their relationships from their past lives.

破镜重圆 (Pòjìng chóngyuán) lit. translated as “re-rounding the broken mirror” - Fix-it reunion stories

异能 (Yì néng) “special abilities” - Characters with special abilities/superpowers/mutants

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甜文 (Tián wén) “sweet fic” - Fics that are filled with fluff and tooth-rotting sweetness.

种田 (Zhòngtián) “farming” - Piece of life, fluffy stories featuring the main couple; often takes place in rural areas (hence the whole farm image lol)

爽文 (Shuǎng wén) “satisfactory or feel-good fic” - The whole point of this type of fic is that the readers feel good after reading it. A common trope is a revenge style plot where the main protagonist regains what they lost through taking revenge on those who had wronged them.

沙雕文 (Shādiāo wén) “silly fic/crack” - Homonym for ‘傻屌’ (Shǎ diǎo; silly/stupid); these fics are not intended to be serious

美食文 (Měishí wén) “food fic” - As the tag suggest, don't read this type of fic on an empty stomach lol

虐文 (Nüè wén) “angst fic” - Self-explanatory

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ABO “alpha/beta/omega” - Self-explanatory; you can read the fanlore here

哨兵向导 (Shàobīng xiàngdǎo) “sentinel-Guides” - Based on the original Sentinel fandom (see fanlore here).

兽人 (Shòurén) “beast/anthros” - Similar to abo. Males (雄兽 Xióng shòu) are capable of transforming between an animal and a human, whereas “females” (雌兽 Cí shòu) retain the human form and can get pregnant. There may also be the beta, in this case referred to as 亚兽 (Yà shòu) who can neither transform nor get pregnant/difficult to impregnate. Usually set in some prehistoric era and entails the protagonist transmigrating into this world as a “female”. In the same vein, for the interstellar insect species, some fics developed the male, female, and sub-insects trope.

哥儿 (Gē er) - A ge er is similar to an omega, basically men who can get pregnant and are marked by a flower shaped pattern on the forehead. I’ve only come across 3-4 fics with this trope and all of them are set in the historical era where the ge er tends to be very feminine. If anyone has any more info on this trope, let me know!

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攻宠受 (Gōng chǒng shòu) “top pampering the bottom” - The top in the relationship will care very well for the bottom. The opposite would be 受宠攻 (Shòu chǒng gōng) “bottom pampering the top”. Alternatively, the writer might just mark it as 宠文 (Chǒng wén) “pampering fic” in general.

年下 (Nián xia) - Younger top and older bottom; one common phrase you might encounter describing the younger top is 小狼狗 (Xiǎo lánggǒu) or “little German Shepherd”, referring to handsome and domineering young man.

On the note of dogs, you might also see 小奶狗 (Xiǎo nǎi gǒu) “unweaned puppies) referring to cute and soft young men, and 二哈 (Èr hā) “dumb husky” referring to silly characters

年上 (Nián shàng) - Older top and younger bottom

As a warning, age gaps in these types of fics can sometimes be large depending on the context, and could overlap with more controversial, dubcon genres 

师生 (Shī shēng) “teacher-student” - Fics featuring the relationship between teacher and student

师徒 (Shī tú) “master-disciple” - Fics featuring the relationship between the master in a martial/cultivation sect and their disciple

[eomerra541]

I wanted to share a portion of the first chapter of Blood and Ink with you all!! Zierra LeFay is my leading lady in this fanfiction with a two-world plotline. Middle Earth and a fantasy style Earth. Hope it draws you in!!!!

YTD 2019, October 31st

Location: Hillsboro Oregon, USA Bishop/LeFay/Boleyn Coven

"So, what do you think?" Zierra had been facing her over-the-door mirror and swiftly turned to look at Tutela, who had taken her most frequent form as a black cat. Her tail swayed as she meowed approvingly, rubbing herself against Zierra's leg. Her vibrant eyes smiled as she seemed to almost break out into a gentle grin.

"You're totally right. I look gorgeous." Running a finger through her dark curls, Zierra adjusted the waist armor that was snug against her maroon long sleeve tunic. Zierra's black pants were tucked beneath a pair of black leather boots that dawned a hidden pocket inside meant for a small weapon but she used it to hold her cell phone(she was a witch after all… Zierra was a weapon all on her own).

Moving toward her dresser, Zierra grabbed two silver wrist guards, placing them over the sleeves of her tunic before tying the leather strings. She then reached for her satchel, double checking to make sure all the essentials were still inside before readying herself to leave.

To Zierra, Halloween was much more than a chance to dress as her ancestor Morgana LeFay(though she thoroughly enjoyed that part). It was also her birthday and a day when witches, like herself, felt a sudden boost to their magic. For All Hallows Eve was one of the nights where the universe's magic was at its most potent.

Grinning, Zierra motioned for Tutela to follow. "Vamonos, let's get to the coffee shop."

With a nod, Tutela moved toward the open window while Zierra headed for the door of her one bedroom apartment. Grabbing her keys, Zierra watched as Tutela examined the area, making sure no one would see her transformation, before taking the sudden form of a blue jay, flying about and patiently waiting for Zierra to meet her outside. With Tutela outside, Zierra used to magic to close the window and made her way outside

Zierra's apartment was located near the Trimet( Tri-County Metropolitan Transportation District of Oregon) at Orenco Station, an urban neighborhood filled with decades old brick buildings as well as those with wide windows and a modern appeal.

It was within walking distance of her work as an RN at a senior living facility, and an even closer walk to her mother's coffee shop, LeFay Lounge. Orenco Station was by far her favorite neighborhood in the Portland area, and as Zierra stepped outside, she smirked taking it all in. It was a view sje wouçd admire for years to come.

Her eyes fell on Tutela before she began to walk toward LeFay Lounge. The lively street was filled with evening joggers, mom's taking their kids out trick or treating, as well as a young man playing his guitar for money. She threw in a few dollars as she passed while Tutela flew overhead, keeping her flight patterns headed in the same direction as Zierra, without looking as if she were following her.

Taking a right, she could see her mother inside the coffee house just ahead. She was nervously pacing the floor while typing some message in her phone. The sudden ping from inside the pocket of her boot made her realize Ellie, Zierra's mother, had been texting her.

Reaching for her cell, Zierra glanced toward the screen.

I thought you were gonna get here before everyone else?!

Zierra's mother had never been the controlling or worrisome type, always trusting her daughter to do the right thing. More than that, Ellie had an amazing truest gift(every witch can do most spells but every witch also has their own strength known as their truest gift) of foresight and was always one step ahead. She knew when danger was truly imminent and when to roll with the punches. Still, that didn't mean Ellie could foresee every outcome. The future was often unpredictable and depended on the decisions of others(if everything was black and white, Ellie would have been able to protect her husband from his untimely death). Nevertheless, it was because of that special gift that if Ellie was worried, Zierra ought to be as well.

"Ay dios mio." She said, quickening her pace. She gazed toward Tutela, pursing her lips. "We better get in there fast. I'll let you in from the back." Tutela made a loud chirp in reply just as Zierra took a deep breath, hoping it wasn't too serious before reaching the front door.

Inside the shop, lanterns adorned the walls along with quotes written in an Old English font. The floor was made of stone, and the arched ceiling was painted to look like the night's sky. In every way, the coffee house symbolized their great heritage of Medieval Times.

Ellie, who had been facing toward the large fireplace, quickly moved toward her daughter as she entered. "Zierra, we don't have a lot of time." Ellie's voice sounded panicked before she fixed her eyes on the large glass window that showcased her coffee house. She raised her hands as a gold mist began to emit from Ellie's fingers before floating toward the walls of the building, circling it entirely.

The Glamour Spell was used to keep those without magic from ever witnessing or hearing the practice of magic. From outside, LeFay Lounge would appear silent and still, without a soul occupying it, concealing their every action, no matter who arrived for the meeting or what magic they chose to use.

"Mom, what's going on?" Zierra asked worriedly. She hadn't seen her mother this distraught since the night their father died.

Turning to face her daughter, Ellie looked anxious. "Zierra, I've just had an awful vision. It was about you, and it's going to happen soon."

Zierra, seeing the sudden fear in her mother's eyes moved forward. Her mother reached for Zierra's hands before continuing. "In the vision you were standing before a hideous creature with flesh that looked burned. Its' fangs were long and it had stocky legs. It wanted to kill you. It wanted to eat your flesh." Ellie's breath seemed to hitch as a tear fell across her cheek. "You used your magic to defeat it but then as many as fifty came toward you, with some riding on the backs of unnaturally large dogs." Ellie shook her head as her eyes closed for a moment, carefully remembering every detail. "I- I thought at first they were werewolves but their structure wasn't quite the same. Not to mention wherever you were did not look familiar at all."

Zierra could hardly keep up. She pinched the bridge of her nose trying to comprehend her mother's words. "Mama, calmete." She placed her hands on her mother's shoulders. "What are you talking about? What creature? Werewolves? I thought they were extinct?"

Ellie drew in a breath, feeling frantic. "No, I'm saying I thought it was a werewolf." She waved her hand as if to move on. "That's not what's important Zierra, I'm trying to tell you something bad is going to happen, and whatever those things were, I have never seen in all my studies of magic."

Zierra bit her lip. This was supposed to be a typical meeting between three joined covens. Those that were direct descendents of Bridget Bishop, Anne Boleyn, and Morgana LeFay. She thought she'd get to celebrate her birthday as well as Analise Bishop's(they'd both been born on All Hallow's Eve and as such their magic was a great deal stronger than even those on the councill). She thought the two of them would finally be initiated into the councill, as it was typical on a witch's twenty fifth birthday. Instead, she began to fear for her own life.

"Have you told the council your vision? What did they say?" She asked, hoping the coven could help. Whatever her mother had seen, she strongly wished to prevent it.

Ellie gripped her daughter's hands, her eyes growing large at Zierra's question. "You can not even mention my vision! We have to figure this out on our own and be ready for anything that might happen tonight."

Zierra was growing more concerned by the second. "Why aren't you going to bring this up to the councill? I thought all visions of foresight had to be shared-"

"Not when I think a bloodwitch is the reason these creatures were created!" Ellie interrupted.

Zierra furrowed her brow. Analise had been the first bloodwitch in centuries. They were uncommonly rare and could use their own blood to spark life to inanimate objects or bring back dead things(though no matter what they brought back to life they were never entirely the same, their bodies needing constant repair). The two girls had never truly gotten along but Zierra wouldn't suspect Analise of wanting to harm her. Analise had always been full of herself but given that they saw each other a few times a year it just didn't make sense. Analise was a beautiful girl with her own damn life in Rio De Janeiro! She had money, power, and popularity and was miles away from Zierra.

"Mom I don't understand-" Before Zierra could continue, a blue flame suddenly formed within the large fireplace to her left before the stone began to expand. Then, stepping beyond what Zierra knew as Doorway Flame, a woman with red hair and pale skin gave them both a warm smile.

"Merry Hallows Eve, Zierra and Ellie." Lisa greeted. "And Happy Birthday, Zierra."

"Merry Hallows Eve." Zierra and Ellie replied in unison.

Lisa's smile began to fade, taking in Ellie's blotched face. She knew she must have been crying. "What's wrong Ellie?"

Ellie composed herself, giving Lisa a wide grin before waving her off. "Oh we were just reminiscing of when Byron was still alive." She lied.

Lisa's head tilted as she gave them both a look of sympathy. "I can imagine how hard it must be to not have him here for a day like Zierra's birthday." Lisa turned to Zierra just as the others began to arrive. "I heard about you finishing your degree. Congratulations on becoming an RN and for snagging such a prestigious job right out of the gate!"

"Thank you." Zierra answered with a smirk. "I did apply on a friday the thirteenth." She admitted, which was açeatd a day of luck for witches and wizards.

Soon each young descendent(future council women when they were of age and maturity) and council members began to arrive, totaling thirty women. There were ofcourse male descendents, but their magic was typically never as strong(an old curse caused by Mordred was responsible) and as such it was always women who led councils across the globe. They greeted each other kindly, taking seats at the many tables in Ellie's shop, with Ellie LeFay, Lisa Boleyn, and Octavia Bishop standing near the fireplace as the head council women.

"Zee!" Zierra spun around when she heard her cousin's voice, who immediately wrapped her arms around Zierra. "Happy birthday, gorgeous!"

Zierra released her cousin with a pleasant grin, momentarily pulled from her troubled thoughts. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Aliyah's costume.

"You look, muy bonita!" She exclaimed, remembering the dress as one of Regina's from their favorite TV show, Once Upon a Time (The pair loved the world's interpretation of magic and all the irony behind its hidden truth)."I think you could give Lana Parilla a run for her money!"

Aliyah slowly spun around to give Zierra a full view nodding as she spoke. "So true, cousin. So true. But it's not just the party that has me looking so spectacular." Aliyah's smile was wide and filled with excitement, she gripped Zierra's forearms biting her lip. "I'm going to ask Ezra to marry me!"

Zierra's mouth fell open. Ezra Leveau's- who was a half witch half Faery- ancestry came from Marie Laveau and his coven held a council with two other families in France. His mother's marriage to Veyro, an ambassador for the Fae kingdom, had also helped solidify a peace treaty between both parties.

Zierra had been so happy to see them together. And though it had only been six months since they started dating, anyone with eyes could see it was meant to be. "Does that mean you're asking him-"

"Tonight? Yes! And at the Festival? Also yes!"

Zierra practically screamed before giving Aliyah another hug. "Yey! I am so happy for you both! Seriously he is perfect for you! And at the festival no less! Which I get to see happen!"

The two girls sat at one of the round tables, still giddy from excitement just as Analise Bishop had taken the last chair. Zierra's smile immediately dropped as fear crossed over her eyes.

"How were your summers girls?" Analise asked quietly, looking down at her black polished fingernails. Her skin was painted green and her dark hair was fastened into a beautiful dutch braid. She glanced at Aliyah first, waiting for a reply.

"Paris was just as romantic as they say." Aliyah answered with a reminiscent grin. Despite how annoying Analise's ego could be, Aliyah had never been rude to her. It wasn't in her kind nature. But as she looked toward her cousin, Aliyah was quick to notice Zierra's sudden apprehension. Her body had stiffened and her eyes were momentarily filled with vigilance and though Zierra had been quick to recover, Aliyah was much too close to her cousin to miss it.

"I got hired at a senior care center. It's great money and I'll always have the same shift, unlike if I took a job at a hospital. It was a gig most wouldn't have fallen into having just finished school but I did apply in a day if luck, so I was bound ti get it, but I plan to stick around."

"Oh yeah, you finished your nursing degree." Analise stated. She glanced Zierra up and down as if she were beneath her. It was the same self righteous expression Analise often carried, but this time her eyes seemed sinister and it only caused Zierra's fear to grow; her mother's strange vision painting gruesome images inside her head as she contemplated whether Analise would ever want to hurt her. What would she gain from doing so? She asked herself, not able to come to a rational conclusion.

"Love the costume by the way, and happy birthday." Analise added, taking Zierra by surprise. Her smile seemed genuine and the darkness she had seen a moment before was gone "Don't I look ravishing in green?" She winked, gesturing to her costume as The Wicked Witch. Maybe I hadn't seen it at all, Zierra considered. But mom seemed really scared.

"Thanks, and happy birthday to you as well.' Zierra's eyes narrowed for a moment. She truly didn't know what to think. The two had never had any bad blood. So why now? Trying to hurt Zierra meant Analise risking her position on the council and giving up even the slightest opportunity at power felt out of character for Analise. Still, her mother's vision kept Zierra on guard. She gave Analise a slight grin before nodding, turning her attention to her mother who was about to speak..........

Here's a link if you want to read more!!!!

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13695267/1/Blood-and-Ink

[mz-elysium]

[Photo ID: four book cover style images, titled by Hiraeth, subtitled with City of Fallen Angels. First cover is a red-tinged fancy social event. Second cover is a person drowning, hands clasped in prayer. Third cover, hands hold broken mirror fragments, which reflect their eyes. Fourth cover, a man in an expensive suit holds a glass of whiskey. End ID] 

 City of Fallen Angels. Book 2. Hiraeth

hiraeth: homesickness or nostalgia, an earnest longing for an idealised past, or a sense of regret.

GENRE: vampire urban fantasy; gothic-punk; grim-dark with a light at the end; romance (m/f, f/f, m/m)

INCLUDES: fluff and angst, Everyone is a Monster/No Heroes, hopeful ending, everyone lives (sometimes living is worse), found family, everyone needs hugs and therapy, vengeance, political intrigue, morals and facing who you are as a person

POV: third person; alternating four characters

LENGTH: anticipated 300k, 50 chapters

SETTING: Los Angeles, Dec 2003, thru early 2004; using Vampire the Masquerade setting, takes place the year before Bloodlines.

SYNOPSIS.

Los Angeles is under siege. A traditionalist faction of Camarilla, led by the enigmatic Jan Pieterzoon, cunning Victoria Ash, and the once-Anarch Prince Bartholomew Vaughn, has taken the San Fernando Valley and looks to the rest of the city. Brewing in Westside, an overly ambitious ancilla, Sebastian LaCroix, has brokered an alliance with the Voerman sisters and claimed his own crown. What remains of the fractured Anarchs squabble, terrified, and Nines’ Downtown barony hangs together with duct tape and promises. In the dark and dank, Sabbat stir and Tremere warlocks plot.

Hiraeth is a novel of personal horror and political intrigue, where the worst monsters are always in the mirror and the greatest weapon against evil is compassion. A journey-to-the-center of the character story, set against the backdrop of a vampire cold war over Los Angeles.

POVS

Monroe might’ve secured independence for himself, building a domain in Central LA with the untrustworthy Ashley Swan, but the walls are closing in. His debt to Pieterzoon remains unsettled. Refugees from the burgeoning cold war pour in, eyeing each other with suspicion on the brink of a civil war. Miss Hawthorne, a winter ghoul he sired upon her death, brims with loathing and returns to him, but not of her choice. His decades old friendship with Bartholomew Vaughn is tested. And the Ventrue Beast eyes Monroe’s increasing power with a greedy eye.

Jack and his long-time mage lover Ryuko are more married than any ceremony could make them. As Jack finds himself putting out fires across the city, he recognises the signs. Ryuko has found new friends in the vampire community, ones who seem to be perfect, have all the answers, and even a neat ideology to wrap it up. Facing being alone for the first time in decades, Jack struggles to put together who he is. Downtown’s iron facade cracks on the seams, as the Sabbat leak from East LA. 

Zari learned to run when her fangs grew in. She fled her cruel foster sire, Ashley Swan, her sire’s gang, and her human family. And now, Ashley offers to fix their messy relationship and her daughter, Aisha, has been Embraced. As Aisha adjusts, she brings horrible news from the mortal family. Ashley speaks gravely of the war to come. Zari does what she has always done: bury her feelings and run. She offers to infiltrate the Westside Prince’s court for Monroe, who accepts it at face value. She relies on old Anarch instincts, to make herself indispensable to survive, but finds herself diving deeper into the Camarilla court. Unfortunately, everywhere she runs, she discovers she has gotten there first. 

Charlie tentatively believes the worst is behind her. All ties have been severed with her human life. The nightmare is over. In the peace, though, she has to face what she did. Her sire and murderer, Rhys Wilson, has lost everything because of her. Carrying the guilty secret, she attempts to mend bridges. The famed vampire hunter, Jesse Harper, for all her brooding mystery, holds her own immense pain. Together, Charlie begins to explore her sexuality — though she might’ve bitten off more than she can chew.

Updating chapters Mondays and Fridays on AO3 (link in pinned post/bio)

Taglist (if you want to be added/removed, leave a comment or message me)

 @blaine-is-tired​

[Photo ID: banner with a weathered stone angel on the right and red shimmering network of city roads or veins on the left. Titled City of Fallen Angels by Elysium in gold, with a header of “Check out my pinned post for more”. End ID]

[bibliothesoph]

Neverland, Wrinkles and Worries (part 8)

This is the biggest feeling that Baz has ever had. It's bigger than all of the anger at his father, his adoration of Mordelia, and his fear of growing up. The feeling he's having right now, the feeling that comes with (finally) kissing Simon Snow is the best and biggest feeling that he is capable of. Simon sighs against his mouth when he kisses him again, taking him by the back of the neck. It's a proper kiss this time. Baz pulls at Simon's hair to tip his head back so he can swipe his tongue between Simon's lips. He parts for Baz and Baz explores Simon's mouth in the way that Simon has probably explored the caves of Neverland. He wants to draw a map of it so he can remember it forever, even if this won't last.

It hits him, as he kisses Simon, that this is a fantasy. Staying in Neverland was never really an option, even when he climbed out of his window, but that was okay because at least he would have some memories of joy and excitement to get him through his darkest days in the future. But now he realizes that only half of him will return to London because his heart will always be here in Neverland with Simon Snow. And it makes him want to cry because the thought of returning home to his big, lonely house feels so drab and painful when he knows that Simon Snow will be somewhere out there missing him as much as he misses Simon. And it hurts because Baz will grow old while Simon stays young forever.

Baz pulls away because his heart is too full and his brain is too busy to carry on with this for now. Simon smiles at him and presses their foreheads together.

"Want to go home?" he asks.

Baz's heart freezes in his chest. He's terrified that Simon means London and that this was all some sort of game to him. Just another adventure.

Simon puts his hand back on Baz's cheek (it'd made it to his back, somehow) and nuzzles his nose against Baz's. "I meant my home."

Baz lets out a staggered breath. He doesn't know what time it is or even if Neverland has time, but he figures that it must be getting late. The people below have started to retreat back into their huts for the night and the fire is being put out.

"Yeah," Baz says. "I do."

They make their way back to Simon's house. Simon shows Baz the secret knob and lets him push it to open up the hidden door. They slide down in a fight of laughter and suddenly Simon is landing on Baz and on top of him from the impact. Behind them, the fire roars. Simon smiles softly at him and leans down to kiss him. Baz happily obliges, no longer feeling the weight of harsh reality on his shoulders. It feels so much better to kiss Simon than to think, anyway.

"Are you gay?" Baz asks, pulling away from Simon's lips for a moment.

"Gay? 'Course I am."

"Didn't you have a girlfriend?"

Simon cocks an eyebrow at him. "I––what? I'm confused. Why's that matter?"

Baz sighs. "Simon, what do you think 'gay' means?" He realizes that Simon's vocabulary isn't as modern as his.

"Happy? Carefree? That sorta thing."

Baz wants to give this boy access to Urban Dictionary. "Okay, so I meant, uh, homosexual."

Simon doesn't look happy or carefree now. "Dunno. I've never really thought about it."

"How do you just not think about it?"

Simon shrugs and rolls off of Baz but intertwines their fingers to make up for the lack of contact. "What's it matter? All I do is fight or save people. And it's not like I've got a line of suitors here."

Baz rolls over to face him, propping his head up on his arm. He can feel some of his hair draping across his face, but he can't bring himself to push it back. "I just...how do you know that you want this?"

"Wait, are you homosexual?"

"Yeah," Baz says without a second thought. "Completely."

He's known since he was young. If he's being honest, he's known ever since he saw Simon Snow on the cover of the book. It was a silly little drawing and not at all accurate, save the outfit, but there was something about Simon standing with his head high, chin out, and those damn tights that made Baz want to reach out and trace over the image with his index finger. And he did. His mother would always set the book down on his bedside table and he would wait until she had said goodnight to turn his light on and just trace over Simon's features.

"Well, I know that I like this. That I like you," Simon tells him. "And what we've been doing."

Baz grins at him.

Simon yawns and stretches out his arms. "We should probably get some sleep, yeah? Don't mind sharing a bed, do ya?"

Baz finds the idea of sharing a bed with Simon completely nerve-wracking, but he won't say so. It's nerve-wracking in the best way possible. The way that makes his heart ache for it. What he would give to spend the night curled up into Simon's side. He just shakes his head and smiles at Simon as he gets up, takes off his shoes and shirt, and crawls into bed.

"Aren't you going to change?" Baz asks, standing up and looking for his backpack.

"Into what? This is all I got."

Baz locates the backpack on the couch and digs through it to find a tee shirt for himself. He also grabs an extra pair of boxers because he has the feeling that Simon isn't wearing any bloody pants. He wants to tell Simon that it's disgusting to wear the same thing all the time, pantsless, but he doesn't want to be rude so he just tosses the boxers over to Simon.

"What's this?" Simon holds them up and examines them in the dim light. He sticks his arm through them and Baz can't help but laugh.

"You put them on like your trousers."

"They your's?"

Baz nods and takes off his shirt, facing away from Simon. He figures that Simon has already seen him shirtless so it doesn't really matter. Then he takes off his trousers so he's in his boxers and a shirt. He puts his old outfit back into his backpack and zips it up.

When he turns back around to crawl into bed, Simon is sitting on top of the blanket in Baz's boxers. He finds the whole thing very attractive and he would like to snog Simon senseless, but he realizes how tired he is from everything and that sleep is probably a better idea. He and Simon both crawl under the fur blanket and find each other under it, illuminated only by the dying fire from the stone fireplace. Simon wraps his arm around Baz and presses the two of them together.

"Goodnight, Baz," Simon yawns.

Baz smiles and pushes his face into Simon's hair, inhaling the scent of it because he doesn't know when he won't be able to anymore. "Night, Simon."

Baz falls asleep faster than he has in years.

Baz is used to dreamless sleeps. He expects them at this point, so he's surprised when he finds himself dreaming. He knows it's a dream, or he certainly hopes it's a dream, because he's back in his room in London. His window is open and he's in bed so he goes to shut it. He turns to go back to bed and hears someone tapping at it. He turns again and finds Simon hovering outside with that silly grin on his face. Baz walks towards the window and watches as Simon's face turns from glee to horror. He opens the window for Simon but Simon staggers backward.

"What's wrong, Simon?" he asks.

Simon gapes and points at him. Tears are forming in his beautiful blue eyes. "You––you promised, Baz! You promised me!"

Baz has no idea what he's on about so he just watches as Simon works himself into a blunder.

"What did I promise?" he asks. The words sting his throat. He reaches for his throat to massage it but the skin he finds there isn't the skin he remembers at all. He tries to walk backwards but he trips over his own feet and onto the ground by his full-length mirror. He looks at the mirror, at his reflection, and thinks he might be having a heart attack.

His skin is wrinkled and saggy. His eyes are dim and his hair, or what's left of it, anyway, has gone white. He looks back at Simon who is still at the window sobbing and telling Baz that he broke his promise.

"What promise, Simon?" he asks even though the words burn and the voice is not his own.

"To never grow up."

Baz wakes with a start.