#dead trove?

[acourtofquestions]

TOWER OF DAWN

MAJOR SPOILERS

Chapters 61-68

+ bonus?-ish one

(Thought I should just put it all in one post cause chapter by chapter quotes don’t work here😅😅😂)

A tomb--and a trove. And at the very back, rising up on a towering dais ... Duva. The khagan's now-youngest daughter. She smiled at them as they approached--and the expression was not human. It was Valg. "Well," said the thing inside the princess, "it certainly took you long enough." The words echoed down the massive chamber, bouncing off stone and gold. Chaol assessed every shadow, every object they passed. All possible weapons. All possible escape routes. Hafiza did not move as they neared, walking down the broad avenue between the endless, glittering gold and sarcophagi. A necropolis. Perhaps one enormous, subterranean city, stretching from the desert to here.

IT WAS DUVA!!!

"Don't," Chaol rasped, the word full of blood. Duva had destroyed it-destroyed everything. From the blood coming out of his mouth, up his throat... Yrene wept, the dagger poised over the princess's neck. He was dying. Duva had ripped open something within him. Duva's brows began to twitch and furrow as she stirred. Now. She had to do it now. Drive this blade in. End it. A life. She had sworn an oath never to take a life. And with this woman before her, the second life in her womb ... The dagger lowered. She'd do it. She'd do it, and-- "Yrene," Chaol breathed, and the word was so full of pain, so quiet ... It was too late. Her magic could feel it, his death. She had never told him of that terrible gift--that healers knew when death sat near. Silba, lady of gentle deaths. The death she would give Duva and her child would not be that sort of death. Chaol's death would not be that sort of death. But she ... But she ... The princess looked so young, even as she stirred. And the life in her womb ... The life before her ... Yrene dropped the knife to the floor. Its clattering echoed over gold and stone and bones. Chaol closed his eyes in what she could have sworn was relief. A light hand touched her shoulder. She knew that touch. Hafiza. But as Yrene looked, as she turned and sobbed-- Two others stood behind the Healer on High. Too much. Too many broken and torn and ravaged things-- His chest was barely rising. He did not open his eyes. "Wake up" she ordered him, her voice breaking. She plunged into her power, but the damage ... It was like trying to patch up holes in a sinking ship. Too much. Too much and-- Shouting and steps all around them. His life began to thin and turn to mist around her magic. Death circled, an eagle with an eye upon them. "Fight it" Yrene sobbed, shaking him. "You stubborn bastard, fight it." What was the point of it, the point of any of it, if now, when it mattered-- "Please," she whispered. Chaol's chest rose, a high note before the last plunge-- She could not endure it. Would not endure it-- A light nickered. Inside that failing mass of red and black. A candle ignited. A bloom of white. Then another. Another. Blooming lights, along that broken interior. And where they shone ... Flesh knitted. Bone smoothed. Light after light after light. His chest continued to rise and fall. Rise and fall. But in the hurt and the dark and the light … A woman's voice that was both familiar and foreign. A voice that was both Hafiza's and ... another. Someone who was not human, never had been. Speaking through Hafiza herself, their voices blending into the blackness. The damage is too great. There must be a cost if it is to be repaired. All those lights seemed to hesitate at that otherworldly voice. Yrene brushed herself along them, waded through them like a field of white flowers, the lights bobbing and swaying in this quiet place of pain. Not lights ... but healers. She knew their lights, their essences. Eretia--that was Eretia closest to her. The voice that was both Hafiza and Other said again, There must be a cost. For what the princess had done to him ... There A living chain of power. All the healers in the Torre, young and old, stood in that room of gold and bone. All connected. All channeling to Yrene, to the grip she still held on Chaol.

And Yrene knew it did not belong to Hafiza or the Other. Did not belong to any healer alive. But to one who had never left her, even when she had been turned into ash on the wind.

The CoM full circle reverse!

A daughter of Fenharrow will pay the debt of a son of Adarlan?

The Other said, You offer this of your own free will? Yes. With my entire heart. It had been his from the start, anyway.

THEN CHAOL THEN THE HEALERS THEN AGH

And where that scar had once sliced down his cheek ... only unmarred skin remained.

But there is always a price

"What was the cost," Chaol rasped. If she'd given up anything, he'd find a way to retrieve it. He didn't care what he had to pay, he'd-- "To keep your life tethered in this world, we had to bind it to another. To hers. Two lives," Hafiza clarified, "now sharing one thread. But even with that," She gestured to his legs, the foot he slid up to brace on the floor. "The demon broke many, many parts of you. Too many. And in order to save most of you, there was a cost, too." Yrene went still. "What do you mean?" Hafiza again looked between them. "There remains some damage to the spine--impacting the lower portions of the legs. That even we could not repair." Chaol glanced between the Healer on High and his legs, currently moving. He went so far as to put some weight on them. They held. Hafiza went on, "With the life-bond between you, Yrene's power flowing into you ... It will act as a brace. Stabilizing the area, granting you ability to use your legs whenever Yrene's magic is at its fullest." He steeled himself for the but. Hafiza smiled grimly. "But when Yrene's power flags, when she is drained or tired, your injury will regain control, and your ability to walk will again be impaired. It will require you to use a cane at the very least--on hard days, perhaps many days, the chair. But the injury to your spine will remain." The words settled in him. Floated through and settled.

is this like Elide & Lorcan?

Good question Yrene I wondered the same thing

"Can't I just heal him again?" She leaned toward him, as if she'd do just that. Hafiza shook her head. "It is part of the balance--the cost. Do not tempt the compassion of the force that granted this to you." But Chaol touched Yrene's hand. "It is no burden, Yrene," he said softly. "To be given this. It is no burden at all." Yet agony filled her face. "But I-" "Using the chair is not a punishment. It is not a prison," he said. "It never was. And I am as much of a man in that chair, or with that cane, as I am standing on my feet." He brushed away the tear that slipped down her cheek. "I wanted to heal you," she breathed. "You did," he said, smiling. "Yrene, in every way that truly matters ... You did."

This arc😭 “in every way that truly matters”

"When it is time, whether the death is kind or cruel ... It will claim you both." Yrene's golden eyes were still lined with silver. But there was no fear in her face, no lingering sorrow--none. "Together," Chaol said quietly, and interlaced their hands. Her strength would be his strength. And when Yrene went, he would go. But if he went before her-- Dread curled in his gut. "The true price of all this," Hafiza said, reading the panic. "Not fear for your own life, but what losing your life will do to the other." "I suggest you not go to war," Eretia grumbled.

Yrene .5 seconds later😂 / the true war at hand

But Yrene shook her head, shoulders straightening as she declared, "We shall go to war.” Pointing to Duva, she looked at Sartaq. As if she had not just offered up her very life to save his--"That is what Erawan will do. To all of you. If we do not go." "I know," Sartaq said quietly. The prince turned to Nesryn, and as she held his stare ... Chaol saw it. The glimmer between them. A bond, new and trembling. But there it was, right along with the cuts and wounds they both bore. "I know," Sartaq said again, his fingers brushing Nesryn's.

This sounds familiar… I KNOW SOULMATES BOND WHEN I SEE THEM/IT FOR BOTH OF THEM

Nesryn met Chaol's eyes then. She smiled softly at him, glancing to where Yrene now asked Hafiza about whether she could stand. He'd never seen Nesryn appear so ... settled. So quietly happy. Chaol swallowed. I'm sorry, he said silently. Nesryn shook her head as Sartaq scooped his sister into his arms with a grunt, the prince balancing his weight on his good leg. I think / did just fine. Chaol smiled. Then I am happy for you. Nesryn's eyes widened as Chaol at last got to his feet, taking Yrene with him. His movements were as smooth as any maneuver he might have made without the invisible brace of Yrene's magic flowing between them. Nesryn wiped away her tears as Chaol closed the distance between them and embraced her tightly. "Thank you," he said in Nesryn's ear. She squeezed him back. "Thank you--for bringing me here. To all of this." To the prince who now looked at Nesryn with a quiet, burning sort of emotion.

This moment😭🫶 HEALING / GROWTH ALL. OF. IT.

Alive, Yrene had said to him. As they walked out of the dark, Chaol at last felt it was true. Sartaq took Duva to the khagan. Called in his brothers and sister. Because Yrene insisted they be there. Chaol and Hafiza insisted they be there.

This bond between them ... She could feel it, almost. Like a living band of cool, silken light flowing from her--into him. And he truly did not seem to mind that a piece of his spine, his nerves, would retain permanent damage for as long as they lived. Yes, he'd now be able to move his legs with limited motion, even when her magic was drained. But standing--never a possibility during those times. She supposed they'd soon learn how and when the level of her power correlated with whether he required cane or chair or neither. But Chaol was right. Whether he stood or limped or sat ... it did not change him. Who he was. She had fallen in love with him well before he'd ever stood. She would love him no matter how he moved through the world.

What if we fight? Yrene had asked him on the trek over here. What then? Chaol had only kissed her temple. We fight all the time already. It'll be nothing new. He'd added, Do you think l'd want to be with anyone who didn't hand my ass to me on a regular basis? But she'd frowned. He'd continued, And this bond between us, Yrene... it changes nothing. With you and me. You'll need your own space; I'll need mine. So if you think for one moment that you're going to get away with flimsy excuses for never leaving my side-- She'd poked him in the ribs. As if I'll want to hang around you all day like some lovesick girl! Chaol had laughed, tucking her in tighter. But Yrene had only patted his arm and said, And I think you can take care of yourself just fine. He'd just kissed her, and that was that.

Out of the dark… they found their Rowaelin🥹 (really the HoF & book parallels are crazy to me)

I am not afraid of you, Yrene said into the dark. And you have nowhere to run.

Her name is Yrene Towers and she is not afraid.

Your world shall fall. As the others have done. As all others will.

This better not be foreshadowing…

No, prince am I, girl. But a princess. And my sisters shall soon find you.

holy shit there’s valg princesses (and they talk like Yoda?) *screams at sky UGH Maeve* PSPS don’t skip this book it’s crucial SIDE NOTE points Chaol😂 We love our fictional husbands just giving a pat on the back for support

“I DIDNT know they could do that… for some reason this chapter brought out the John Mulaney ever since Hasar said Hush”

Lethal--with rage. Not at Yrene, not at Duva, but the man who had sent this to their house. Their family. Duva's face relaxed on an exhaled breath, color blooming on her cheeks. Duva's husband tried to surge for her again, but Yrene stopped him with an upheld hand. Heavy-her hand was so heavy. But she held the young man's panicked stare. Which had not been on his wife's face, but the belly. Yrene nodded to him as if to say, I will look. Then she laid her hands on that round, high womb. Sent her magic probing, dancing along it--the life within. Something new and joyous answered back. Loudly.

POOR DUVA HOW DID NO ONE NOTICE — I MEAN HER HUSBAND & THE ENTIRE MARRIAGE… ow man… not to be that person but seriously??? (and also the sister line broke me TALK ABOUT TRAUMA the poor girl) — THE DAMNED SNEAKY NEW FANCY RING TRICK

P.s. point to the Khagan for switching from his “fight to death children” mantra

And extra spy points to Kadja😂 guess the weird chicken recipes distraction didn’t work🤣

But it did not frustrate him, did not embarrass him. If this was to be his body's natural state for the rest of his life ... it was not a punishment, not at all. He was still thinking that when they reached his suite, mulling over how they might work out a schedule of him fighting in battle with her healing. For he would fight. And if her power was drained, he'd fight then, too. Whether on horseback or in the chair itself. And when Yrene needed to heal, when the magic in her veins summoned her to those killing fields and their bond grew thin ... he'd manage with a cane, or the chair. He would not shrink from it. If he survived the battle. The war. If they survived.

Y’all better survive after the EoS ending I can’t handle anymore of that

MAEVE IS THE VALG QUEEN!!!

Still not over that😅😅😬 possibly the biggest plot twist/name drop of the series? Like Aelin I expected BUT THAT

"That explains why the Fae healers might have fled, too," Yrene murmured when Nesryn fell silent. "Why Maeve's own healer compound lies on the border with the mortal world. Perhaps not so they can have access to humans who need care... but as a border patrol against the Valg, should they ever try to encroach her territory." How close the Valg had unwittingly come when Aelin had fought those princes in Wendlyn. "It also explains why Aelin reported an owl at Maeve's side when they first met," Nesryn said, gesturing to Yrene, whose brows bunched. Then Yrene blurted, "The owl must be the Fae form of a healer. Some healer of hers that she keeps close--as a bodyguard. Has let everyone believe to be some pet ..."

I KNEW IT

"The demon told me it was not a Valg prince... but a princess." Silence. Until Nesryn said, "The spider. It claimed the Valg kings had sons and daughters. Princes and princesses." Chaol swore. No, his legs would not be able to function anytime soon, with or without Yrene's slowly refilling well of power. "We're going to need a Fire-Bringer, it seems," he said. And to translate the books Hafiza said she would gladly hand over to their cause. Nesryn chewed on her lip. "Aelin now sails north to Terrasen, an armada with her. The witches as well." "Or just the Thirteen," Chaol countered. "The reports were murky. It might not even be Manon Blackbeak's coven, actually." "It is," Nesryn said. "I'd bet everything on it."

NO SHES NOT AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WE NEED A FIRE BRINGER BUT YALL GOTTA GO GET HER LIKE RIGHT FRIGGIN NOW THIS IS KILLING ME AGHHHHHHHSAVANKWWIRHRBD

But yes keep calm and trust in Manon & THE 13

Okay yeah Yrene can heal them and now Nesryns got a ruk ITS ALL GONNA BE FINE (it all better be fine)

Nesryn The Empress has a nice ring to it don’t ya think

Now we’re really like Heir of Fire only it’s Nesryn Heir of the Southern Continent

The world he laid at her feet. She trembled at it. What he so freely gave. Not the empire and crown, but ... the life. His heart. Nesryn wondered if he knew her heart had been his from that very first ride atop Kadara. Sartaq smiled as if to say yes, he had. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was tentative, and soft, and full of wonder, that kiss. He tasted like the wind, like a mountain spring. He tasted like home. Nesryn clasped his face in her hands as she pulled back. "To war, Sartaq," she breathed, memorizing every line of his face. "And then we'll see what comes after." Sartaq gave her a knowing, cocky grin. As if he'd fully decided what would come after and nothing she could say would ever convince him otherwise. And from the courtyard just a wall away, her sister shouted, loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, "I told you, Father!"

I’m so happy to see her happy and her family and her see her family🥹 I NEEDED THIS😭 & THE HOME QUOTE (again Rowaelin much?😉😘🫶)

Home. They were to sail home today.

Home🥹😭

"I wish I had never said a word to you on the steppes that night." Yrene began to shake her head, unsure of what to even say. "I have missed having you--as my friend," Kashin went on. "I do not have many of them." "I know," she managed to get out. And then added, "I missed having you as my friend, too." For she had. And what he was now willing to do for her, her people ... She took Kashin's hand. Squeezed it. There was still pain in his eyes, limning his handsome face, but ... understanding. And a clear, undaunted gleam as he beheld the northern horizon. The prince squeezed her hand in return. "Thank you again--for Duva." A small smile toward that northern skv. "We shall meet again, Yrene Towers. I am certain of it."

Props to Kashin & also hopeful foreshadowing for once (& no one better die when they meet again)

She smiled back at him, beyond words. But Kashin winked, pulling his hand from hers. "My sulde still blows northward. Who knows what I may find on the road ahead? Especially now that Sartaq has the burden of being Heir, and I'm free to do as I please." The city had been in an uproar about it. Celebrating, debating--it still raged on. What the other royal siblings thought, Yrene did not know, but ... there was peace in Kashin's eyes. And in the eyes of the others, when Yrene had seen them. And part of her indeed wondered if Sartaq had struck some unspoken agreement that went beyond Never Duva. To perhaps even Never Us. Yrene had smiled again at the prince--at her friend. "Thank you, for all your kindness."

beyond words “Never Duva. Never us.” never again

Even in the early morning, the tower was a beacon, a jutting lance of hope and calm. She wondered if she would ever see it again. For what lay ahead of them ... Yrene braced her hands on the rail as another gust of wind rocked the ship. A wind from inland, as if all thirty-six gods of Antica blew a collective breath to send them skittering home. Across the Narrow Sea--and to war. The ship began to move at last, the world a riot of action and color and sound, but Yrene remained at the rail. Watching the city grow smaller and smaller. And even when the coast was little more than a shadow, Yrene could have sworn she still saw the Torre standing above it, glinting white in the sun, as if it were an arm upraised in farewell.

So many HoF parallels (also the Tower at Dawn imagery *chefs kiss* PERFECTION)

Never for granted😭

The way we went from the EoS ship bonus sneak peek to here & soon to be KoA

Also is it the same storm?

"Watching the horizon won't get us there any faster," he murmured onto her neck. "Neither will teasing your wife about it." Chaol smiled against her skin. "How else am I to amuse myself during the long hours than by teasing you, Lady Westfall?" she snorted, as she always did at the title. But Chaol had never heard anything finer--other than the vows they'd spoken in Silba's temple at the Torre two and a halt weeks ago. The ceremony had been small, but Hasar had insisted on a feast afterward that put to shame all the others they'd had in the palace. The princess might have been many things, but she certainly knew how to throw a party.

No longer Yrene Towers--but Yrene Westfall.

WHERES MY WIFE VS LADY WESTFALL I CANT decide if I’m healed or more broken … also the way we went from Lord Westfall “it’s Chaol” to this🥹

Gods help him when Hasar and Aedion met.

This better happen cause now I can’t wait😂

Hellas Horse “Butterfly”

New fav character😂👏

She smiled down at the locket, the silver near-blinding in the midday sun. "I suppose I don't need my little note any longer." "Why?" "Because I am not alone," she said, running her fingers over the metal. "And because I found my courage." He kissed her cheek, but said nothing as she opened the locket and carefully removed the browned scrap. The wind tried to rip it from her fingers, but Yrene held tight, unfolding the slender fragment. She scanned the text she'd read a thousand times. "I wonder if she'll return for this war. Whoever she was. She spoke of the empire like…" Yrene shook her head, more to herself, and folded it shut again. "Perhaps she will come home to fight, from wherever she sailed off to." She offered him the piece of paper and turned away to the sea ahead. Chaol took the scrap from Yrene, the paper velvet-soft from its countless readings and foldings and how she'd held it in her pocket, clutched it, all these years. He unfolded the note and read the words he already knew were within: For wherever you need to go--and then some. The world needs more healers. The waves quieted. The ship itself seemed to pause. Chaol glanced to Yrene, smiling serenely at the sea, then to the note. To the handwriting he knew as well as his own.

The fact that he knew her handwriting — Forgiveness can you imagine? 😭 — & THE story

For wherever you need to go--and then some. The world needs more healers. There, in her handwriting ... Chaol looked up at last, blinking away tears as he scanned his wife's face. Every beautiful line, those golden eyes. A gift. A gift from a queen who had seen another woman in hell and thought to reach back a hand. With no thought of it ever being returned. A moment of kindness, a tug on a thread ... And even Aelin could not have known that in saving a barmaid from those mercenaries, in teaching her to defend herself, in giving her that gold and this note ... Even Aelin could not have known or dreamed or guessed how that moment of kindness would be answered. Not just by a healer blessed by Silba herself, capable of wiping the Valg away. But by the three hundred healers who had come with her. The three hundred healers from the Torre, now spread across the one thousand ships of the khagan himself. A favor, Yrene had asked of the man in return for saving his most beloved daughter. Anything, the khagan had promised. Yrene had knelt before the khagan. Save my people. That was all she asked. All she had begged. Save my people. So the khagan had answered.

The way it all weaves together like SO YOUR TELLING ME ALL OF IT🥹😭 once upon a time there was a princess who loved her kingdom very much *gonna go sob now*

Chaol folded the note along its well-worn lines and carefully set it back within Yrene's locket. "Keep it a while longer," he said softly. "I think there's someone who will want to see that." Yrene's eyes filled with surprise and curiosity, but she asked nothing as Chaol again slid his arms around her and held her tightly. Every step, all of it, had led here. From that keep in the snow-blasted mountains where a man with a face as hard as the rock around them had thrown him into the cold; to that salt mine in Endovier, where an assassin with eyes like wildfire had smirked at him, unbroken despite a year in hell. An assassin who had found his wife, or they had found each other, two gods-blessed women wandering the shadowed ruins of the world. And who now held the fate of it between them. Every step. Every curve into darkness. Every moment of despair and rage and pain. It had led him to precisely where he needed to be. Where he wanted to be. A moment of kindness. From a young woman who ended lives to a young woman who saved them.

The unwritten Captain and The Assassin bonus is complete😭 … I cannot wait for Aelin to read that (I’m gonna need it) “a moment of kindness”

He did not regret. He did not look back. Not with Yrene in his arms, at his side. Not with the note she carried, that bit of proof... that bit of proof that he was exactly where he was meant to be. That he had always been headed there. Here. "Will I ever hear an explanation for this dramatic reaction," Yrene said at last, clicking her tongue, "or are you just going to kiss me for the rest of the day?" Chaol rumbled a laugh. "It's a long story." He slung an arm around her waist and stared out toward the horizon with her. "And you might want to sit down first." "Those are my favorite kinds," she said, winking. Chaol laughed again, feeling the sound in every part of him, letting it ring clear and bright as a bell. A final, joyous pealing before the storm of war swept in. "Come on," he said to Yrene, nodding to the soldiers working alongside Hasar's men to keep the ships sailing swiftly for the north--to battle and bloodshed. "I'll tell you over lunch." Yrene rose onto her toes to kiss him before he led them toward their spacious stateroom. "This story of yours had better be worth it," she said with a wry grin. Chaol smiled back at his wife, at the light he'd unknowingly walked toward his entire life, even when he had not been able to see it. "It is," he said quietly to Yrene. "It is."

The most beautiful scene which is needed pre bonus chapter😭

Fireheart

😭😵🫥☠️💔🖤

Don’t even get me started on that final piece KILL ME NOW SARAH OH WAIT YOU ALREADY DID

They had entombed her in darkness and iron. She slept, for they had forced her to--had wafted curling, sweet smoke through the cleverly hidden airholes in the slab of iron above. Around. Beneath. A coffin built by an ancient queen to trap the sun inside.

To trap the sun inside… she’s the sun… crying again

Draped with iron, encased in it, she slept. Dreamed. Drifted through seas, through darkness, through fire. A princess of nothing. Nameless.

“Nameless is my price”

The princess sang to the darkness, to the flame. And they sang back. There was no beginning or end or middle. Only the song, and the sea, and the iron sarcophagus that had become her bower. Until they were gone. Until blinding light flooded the slumbering, warm dark. Until the wind swept in, crisp and scented with rain. She could not feel it on her face. Not with the death-mask still chained to it. Her eyes cracked open. The light burned away all shape and color after so long in the dim depths. But a face appeared before her--above her. Peering over the lid that had been hauled aside. Dark, flowing hair. Moon-pale skin. Lips as red as blood. The ancient queen's mouth parted in a smile. Teeth as white as bone. "You're awake. Good." Lovely and cold, it was a voice that could devour the stars. From somewhere, from the blinding light, rough and scar-flecked hands reached into the coffin. Grasped the chains binding her. The queen's huntsman; the queen's blade.

The huntsman… Sarah don’t go getting all fairytale Grimm on me again now

He hauled the princess upright, her body a distant, aching thing. She did not want to slide back into this body. Struggled against it, clawing for the flame and the darkness that now ebbed away from her like a morning tide. But the huntsman yanked her closer to that cruel, beautiful face watching with a spider's smile. And he held her still as that ancient queen purred, "Let's begin."

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ENDING IT LIKE THAT

[carrionhearted]

I showed someone a photo of my room, and their response was “I thought this was a photo of a haunted house attraction at first”

I think. This is a success.

(This was the photo)

[sav37]

You know what Nesta Archeron or as I like to put it- The Queen of Queens deserves?

The position of the High Lady of the Dusk Court.

The entire Valkyrie army under her (filled with the priestesses from the library because they need to break away from trauma and not live down there forever)

All the Illyrian women forming another legion under Valkyries because that would kick ass-

The dead trove and all the made weapons (Gwydion, Ataraxia, etc... etc.)

Better friends than the Inner Circle who only like to drink and go lingerie shopping but I'd say she has already found them- #WeLoveGwyn #WeLoveEmerie

A badass High Lady beast form like a Dragon or something.

Fenrys Moonbeam

Eris Vanserra

In short, a better husband because my girl deserves a prince 😭 not a sex hungry brute. (Sorry, not sorry)

Basically...

EVERYTHING

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Art by: airiruriru

[nyxreads]

So what do you think the next book will be about? We know it will be about Elain, but how do you see it going? What will be the main storylines? I am curious about what everyone is thinking.

Hello anon, sorry this kinda took me long to answer and honestly I am lazy and can't explain articulately what's in my mind but I'm gonna link you to some theories/analysis (based on canon) that I truly loved and agreed on about Elain and her upcoming book:

[misteria247]

I WARNED YOU ABOUT THE STAIRS BRO-

[xxvalkyriesxx]

Death's End - Chapter Two

Masterpost

Read AO3 or below

AN: Hello again <3 It's been a little bit since I've been back in this story's world. Yall are gonna have a super big treat tonight as I'm doing a double chapter release tonight! Chapter three will be up soon <3 Chapter two was just a little short for my liking plus I need to sit down and write which will hopefully be the epilogue soon and the next chapter of Flying Changes.

Thank you so much for the support! Enjoy <3

CW: graphic descriptions of violence, violence against women/children

Snippet

“Do you know who I am?” Cassian taunted the male.

The male cried out as the dead pushed his head into the snow. Cassian strolled up to him, placing his boots on either side of the male’s head.

“I think I asked you a question.” Venom dripped from his words.

“Y-you’re the Lord of Bloodshed. The Prince of Bastards.”

Cassian growled. “Lord of Bloodshed will do just fine.”

He pulled the male’s hair making him look at Nesta. She stood stiff and tall, her arms at her side.

“Who is she?”

“T-the witch.”

Cassian yanked his hair harder, sneering. “Try again.”

“T-The High Lady’s Sister.”

The General of the Night Court tsked. He looked over to the empty eye sockets of the skulls that stared at Nesta. He had seen more death than anyone should in five hundred years, however, the dark magic that ran through the corpses made Cassian stay on edge. He killed thousands, but the dead didn’t come back, not like this.

Swiftly his hand yanked the male’s hair, dragging him out of their grasp before bringing him to Nesta’s feet.

“Her name is Lady Death.”

**

Cassian watched as his mate broke the bargain she had made with her sister, his High Lady. The fear of her future rolling tides of anxiety and dread into his soul.

But even with the broken bargain, Cassian could only watch in awe as Nesta pointed to the ground near her. The ground shook as skeletons clawed out of the earth. The disturbed ground made the dirt swish to mud as the skeletons rose. Some had armor on them, some had nothing at all. Some of the dead were fully intact while others not so much.

Illyrian skeletons stood with their boned wings spread, talons still sharp. There must have been fifteen, maybe even thirty of them. Mother, it was probably more than that. They stood, watching Nesta, waiting for their orders.

Nesta pointed to the Illyrian rebels that surrounded Cassian, a death sentence bestowed upon them. The rebels shook in fear, coming face to face with dark magic that was so powerful it made Cassian bow his head in respect.

“What in the bloody fucking Mother is that!?” Screamed one the rebels.

“What is your witch whore doing? Tell her to stop.” Another yelled at Cassian, yanking at the collar of his armor.

Cassian could only smirk in response. “What my witch does best. Making males scream.”

The dead ripped the rebels away from Cassian, holding them down as they screamed and tried to fight their way for an escape, the dark magic doing its work. Nesta strode into the center of the clearing where Cassian and the rebels were. Her grace was the exact same to a wolf’s that found its prey. The rebels screamed as Nesta approached them, Ataraxia reflecting the moonlight off the blade. Cassian’s siphons glowed in response.

She didn’t ounce a word as the dead held the rebels in execution positions, holding them down by their shoulders as their knees snuck into the snow. Swiftly Nesta made one head roll, then two, three. Screaming pleas were useless as two more heads fell to the snow, the faces frozen in horror. Blood spattered onto the snow and onto Nesta; the Masked now tainted.

The last remaining rebel alive sobbed as urine stained the snow he kneeled in. 

He was the one who called Nesta a whore.

“Please, please let me live. I’ll tell you everything. Anything you want, jus-just let me live.” The male pleaded, tears streaming down his face.

Nesta tilted her head, a clear sign to Cassian she was still there even with the Mask on. A moment passed before she put Ataraxia away, back in the sword’s sheath. The rebel broke into sobbed prayers of gratitude, however the dead illyrians still held onto him. Nesta raised her hand again making the newly dead stand up on their feet, headless and ready to serve.

Quietly Nesta walked over to Cassian, silver eyes glowing from the Mask.

Never stare into the eye’s of a predator. A lesson Cassian was taught from a young age that shaped him into being a predator himself. But now standing several inches shorter than him, Cassian looked right into her eyes.

Death’s eyes.

Lady Death.

They were going to get into so much trouble with this stunt. Fuck it.

Cassian purred. “It’s been awhile, Sweetheart.” He picked up her cold hand, kissing her knuckles. Her silver eyes blazed from the mask’s cutouts. He pulled away, picking up his broadsword from the ground. The blade’s girth was wide, catching the mirror expression of the Illyrian male him.

“Do you know who I am?” Cassian taunted the male.

The male cried out as the dead pushed his head into the snow. Cassian strolled up to him, placing his boots on either side of the male’s head.

“I think I asked you a question.” Venom dripped from his words.

“Y-you’re the Lord of Bloodshed. The Prince of Bastards.”

Cassian growled. “Lord of Bloodshed will do just fine.”

He pulled the male’s hair making him look at Nesta. She stood stiff and tall, her arms at her side.

“Who is she?”

“T-the witch.”

Cassian yanked his hair harder, sneering. “Try again.”

“T-The High Lady’s Sister.”

The General of the Night Court tsked. He looked over to the empty eye sockets of the skulls that stared at Nesta. He had seen more death than anyone should in five hundred years, however, the dark magic that ran through the corpses made Cassian stay on edge. He killed thousands, but the dead didn’t come back, not like this.

Swiftly his hand yanked the male’s hair, dragging him out of their grasp before bringing him to Nesta’s feet.

“Her name is Lady Death.”

“L-L-Lady Death. I-I beg you.”

“She doesn’t answer to whiny males. I would know.” Cassian muttered before he handed Nesta his own sword.

“Would you like to do the honors, Sweetheart?”

Nesta glanced from Cassian to his sword then back to him. A moment passed as the male kneeling in front of them screamed and cried.

“Together.” Her voice was barely a whisper reaching for the handle of his sword.

“Together.” Cassian echoed her. Clasping his hands over hers, they held the sword over the Illyrian male’s head.

The male shouted out pleas and curses and prayers right as the broadsword sunk into his head, his voice going quiet. Foul smells of shit and tears engulfed the newly corpse. The look of horror frozen onto the face. Cassian put his sword away, never taking his eyes off Nesta.

“Come on, Nes. Playtime is over.” He coaxed.

But Nesta made no move to take off the Mask, instead she stood where she was. The tips of his fingers tapped against the side of his leg. Even in the cold he felt sweat build up on his forehead.

Cassian sighed, cradling her face in his hands.

“Nes, come out. We can play after you’re back.” His voice husked, trying to lull her back like when she scried years ago to find the Dead Trove item that jailed her.

Nesta flicked her hand out, making the ground shift. Footsteps and bones rattling grew closer as the dead stood around them. The dead were a mix of skeletons, rotting corpses, and the freshly killed. Cassian noticed all of them seemed to be males by their size. 

Cassian’s heart leaped from his chest, unsure what his mate was planning. “Nes..?”

His mate stood next to him, her gaze on their audience.

“Sweetheart, you need to take the mask off. Now.” He asked.

There was a settle shift from the dead, causing Cassian’s siphons gleamed in power as he took a stance, ready to fight them. However before he could grab his broadsword, Nesta pulled his head down to her’s, kissing him.

The kiss was familiar and new all at once as their lips connected. Somehow Cassian felt the power rumble from the Mask as the two shared the intimate moment. Eventually Nesta broke their kiss, leaving him breathless as Nesta turned, pointing to the dead. Cassian stood on weak knees as his head turned, seeing that the dead were no longer standing, but were on the ground, kneeling. 

Nesta sneered at them, the silvery eyes blazing in control and power before she screamed. Her scream echoed, making birds fly off the trees. Her voice was pain, trauma, and darkness. The pitch was loud, but Cassian dug his nails into his palms, refusing to cover his ears. They were equalled in life and in death. Was the ground shaking or was it all in his head, Cassian couldn’t tell.

She fell to her knees as her screams died down. The Illyrian warrior walked over to her, kneeling next to her. Tears were streaming down her face from beneath the Mask. Nesta peeled the Mask off her face moments later but Cassian swore it was a lifetime. Nesta’s body fell to the snow  as the dead did the same, dropping like flies.

Cassian pulled her into his arms, her body shaking. He kissed her head as heavy sobs racked through her. She clung to him tightly, her voice too hoarse to speak. Gently, his hand traced her back, creating soothing motions. When he pulled away, he saw her rose colored eyes from the tears. Her mouth moved, but not a sound slipped out. 

I love you.

Then she went limp in his arms, her breathing slow. Quietly he held her as he picked up their swords before flying off to a small cabin he hadn’t been to in centuries.

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed):

[hoodiehydra]

OMG I LOVE IT! I would be down for a sequel! Maybe there would be a part with how Sarv would feel about Ruv's relationship with the reader! If you don't want to do a sequel, it's fine.

OOOOO YEAH THIS IS GONNA BE FUN

honestly I think I’m gonna fuck this request up too.

I can’t do something good around here ;-;

Ah well.

Ruv x gn! reader (part 2)

Honestly didn’t think you would like it this much so ty for the ask!

I like to make my fics a little comical, so more fourth wall breaking!

4th wall: No... more... please

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fuck off, she’s mine

It’s been... how long since you two started dating? Oh yeah, a few months. Ruv was a very sweet and caring, but also stoic and silent type of boyfriend, but the good thing was that he would never talk over you, and he enjoyed listening to you talk. He was a good listener, and in return, you were a good speaker. You had a lot of topics that you loved to talk about and he enjoyed listening and watching you talk about them. You always looked so cute whenever you shared about them to him, and despite him always with a neutral look, he found it so adorable with your face looking at him with that innocent childish look and excitement. It always made his heart melt.

Your relationship was so sweet and cute, Sarvente was adoring it. You two were perfect for each other, definitely more than her and Ruv (yes she knew about it). As a friend that helped you connect with Ruv, a mutual friend, she was incredibly proud of herself for playing the matchmaker card and helping the two of you get into a relationship together.

Sarvente, the sweet nun, was definitely making the right choice when she introduced the two of you to each other. It wasn’t a mistake.

*Pats Sarvente on the back* Good job girl! CANYOUPLEASEGETMEABFPLEASE???

Sarvente would definitely delete the existence of people who try to get in the way of both you and Ruv’s relationship, if Ruv hasn’t killed them first, that is. Powerful, sweet demon lady and a stoic murderer would do anything to protect you and your relationship. I will kill whoever tries to upset you too.

You would often find yourself at the church to either hang out with Sarvente, or to find Ruv for general couple-y stuff. Basically just for comfort and stuff if you ever need it. Usually Sarvente would also gush about how you and Ruv look so cute together, which either leaves you a blushing mess, or if Ruv overhears, he’s gonna blush a little. BUT he does think about what Sarv says behind closed doors, when it’s just him. It usually makes him blush a lot too. Not as much as you, but it’s rather obvious.

Both your writer and Sarv think you two are adorable!

EXTRA: your ex comes to disturb the relationship.

You were at the park with Ruv, just enjoying the view and nature in all. The fresh air felt so comforting as you breathed it all in. You no longer felt confined within the small walls of your home and you were feeling very pleased with that. Finally, you two could just hang out, no work, nothing to disturb you.

Apparently, when I said “nothing”, the universe translated that to “your ex”.

Do I really need to state whoever just decided to waltz back into your life after cheating on you? No? thank goodness.

“Hey there, my lovely Y/N.” Ayden tried horribly to flirt with you.

You glared at him, obviously wanting him to be finally gone and done with. You shooed at him, but you forgot he was stupid and blind, and he can’t ever take a hint. Groaning, you said, “Get out of my sight, you awful cheater. We were only together for-? A few days? I don’t see that as an actual relationship, unlike my current one over here. And I’m not yours. So please, leave.”

“You’re really gonna stoop so low? For this guy? I’m pretty sure I can offer more.” Ayden smirked, which only made you cringe in disgust.

You failed to notice Ruv giving Ayden a death glare, and Ruv muttered, “Go away, asshole.”

Ayden was appalled. Fucking APPALLED. This bitch- oh Ruv was about to kill him. But not in the park. He wouldn’t make this place a crime scene in a few minutes, even though he really wanted to.

He gently guided you away from Ayden, and pointed the middle finger at the cheating asshole, and he mouthed “Don’t follow us if you want to leave, fucker.”

This caused Ayden to stop in his tracks. Ruv was absolutely fucking terrifying, and definitely not someone he wanted to mess with. You two left, but  Sarv saw the whole thing since she wanted to tell you two in person about finally discovering her demon form.

The whole thing played in front of her.

Might as well put this new form to use, heh.

And none of you ever saw Ayden again.

GOOOOO SARV GOOOOO WOOOOHOOO

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

And that’s it! Sorry it took a while, heh. I hope you liked it.

[caterpillarinacave]

well this sucks

[dndtreasury]

Scepter of Dead Suns

[acourtofquestions]

Okay… so what’s the deal with ACOTAR 6??? — Was there an announcement/date/title/plot confirmation!?!

[real-russ-jackson]

Behind the scenes special Show Me More: The Walking Dead: Dead City

[devinwolfi]

new motw supplement... means i am wanting 2 play

[navree]

you know you probably could make extraordinarily good biblical epics, like, even new testament based ones, but the only people who would want to do that are fucking freaks (derogatory)

[sophiamcdougall]

You're a reasonably informed person on the internet. You've experienced things like no longer being able to get files off an old storage device, media you've downloaded suddenly going poof, sites and forums with troves full of people's thoughts and ideas vanishing forever. You've heard of cybercrime. You've read articles about lost media. You have at least a basic understanding that digital data is vulnerable, is what I'm saying. I'm guessing that you're also aware that history is, you know... important? And that it's an ongoing study, requiring ... data about how people live? And that it's not just about stanning celebrities that happen to be dead? Congratulations, you are significantly better-informed than the British government! So they're currently like "Oh hai can we destroy all these historical documents pls? To save money? Because we'll digitise them first so it's fine! That'll be easy, cheap and reliable -- right? These wills from the 1850s will totally be fine for another 170 years as a PNG or whatever, yeah? We didn't need to do an impact assesment about this because it's clearly win-win! We'd keep the physical wills of Famous People™ though because Famous People™ actually matter, unlike you plebs. We don't think there are any equalities implications about this, either! Also the only examples of Famous People™ we can think of are all white and rich, only one is a woman and she got famous because of the guy she married. Kisses!"

Yes, this is the same Government that's like "Oh no removing a statue of slave trader is erasing history :(" You have, however, until 23 February 2024 to politely inquire of them what the fuck they are smoking. And they will have to publish a summary of the responses they receive. And it will look kind of bad if the feedback is well-argued, informative and overwhelmingly negative and they go ahead and do it anyway. I currently edit documents including responses to consultations like (but significantly less insane) than this one. Responses do actually matter. I would particularly encourage British people/people based in the UK to do this, but as far as I can see it doesn't say you have to be either. If you are, say, a historian or an archivist, or someone who specialises in digital data do say so and draw on your expertise in your answers. This isn't a question of filling out a form. You have to manually compose an email answering the 12 questions in the consultation paper at the link above. I'll put my own answers under the fold. Note -- I never know if I'm being too rude in these sorts of things. You probably shouldn't be ruder than I have been.

Please do not copy and paste any of this: that would defeat the purpose. This isn't a petition, they need to see a range of individual responses. But it may give you a jumping-off point.

Question 1: Should the current law providing for the inspection of wills be preserved?

Yes. Our ability to understand our shared past is a fundamental aspect of our heritage. It is not possible for any authority to know in advance what future insights they are supporting or impeding by their treatment of material evidence. Safeguarding the historical record for future generations should be considered an extremely important duty.

Question 2: Are there any reforms you would suggest to the current law enabling wills to be inspected?

No.

Question 3: Are there any reasons why the High Court should store original paper will documents on a permanent basis, as opposed to just retaining a digitised copy of that material?

Yes. I am amazed that the recent cyber attack on the British Library, which has effectively paralysed it completely, not been sufficient to answer this question for you.  I also refer you to the fate of the Domesday Project. Digital storage is useful and can help more people access information; however, it is also inherently fragile. Malice, accident, or eventual inevitable obsolescence not merely might occur, but absolutely should be expected. It is ludicrously naive and reflects a truly unpardonable ignorance to assume that information preserved only in digital form is somehow inviolable and safe, or that a physical document once digitised, never need be digitised again..At absolute minimum, it should be understood as certain that at least some of any digital-only archive will eventually be permanently lost. It is not remotely implausible that all of it would be. Preserving the physical documents provides a crucial failsafe. It also allows any errors in reproduction -- also inevitable-- to be, eventually, seen and corrected. Note that maintaining, upgrading and replacing digital infrastructure is not free, easy or reliable. Over the long term, risks to the data concerned can only accumulate.

"Unlike the methods for preserving analog documents that have been honed over millennia, there is no deep precedence to look to regarding the management of digital records. As such, the processing, long-term storage, and distribution potential of archival digital data are highly unresolved issues. [..] the more digital data is migrated, translated, and re-compressed into new formats, the more room there is for information to be lost, be it at the microbit-level of preservation. Any failure to contend with the instability of digital storage mediums, hardware obsolescence, and software obsolescence thus meets a terminal end—the definitive loss of information. The common belief that digital data is safe so long as it is backed up according to the 3-2-1 rule (3 copies on 2 different formats with 1 copy saved off site) belies the fact that it is fundamentally unclear how long digital information can or will remain intact. What is certain is that its unique vulnerabilities do become more pertinent with age."  -- James Boyda, On Loss in the 21st Century: Digital Decay and the Archive, Introduction.

Question 4: Do you agree that after a certain time original paper documents (from 1858 onwards) may be destroyed (other than for famous individuals)? Are there any alternatives, involving the public or private sector, you can suggest to their being destroyed?

Absolutely not. And I would have hoped we were past the "great man" theory of history. Firstly, you do not know which figures will still be considered "famous" in the future and which currently obscure individuals may deserve and eventually receive greater attention. I note that of the three figures you mention here as notable enough to have their wills preserved, all are white, the majority are male (the one woman having achieved fame through marriage) and all were wealthy at the time of their death. Any such approach will certainly cull evidence of the lives of women, people of colour and the poor from the historical record, and send a clear message about whose lives you consider worth remembering.

Secondly, the famous and successsful are only a small part of our history. Understanding the realities that shaped our past and continue to mould our present requires evidence of the lives of so-called "ordinary people"!

Did you even speak to any historians before coming up with this idea?

Entrusting the documents to the private sector would be similarly disastrous. What happens when a private company goes bust or decides that preserving this material is no longer profitable? What reasonable person, confronted with our crumbling privatised water infrastructure, would willingly consign any part of our heritage to a similar fate?

Question 5: Do you agree that there is equivalence between paper and digital copies of wills so that the ECA 2000 can be used?

No. And it raises serious questions about the skill and knowledge base within HMCTS and the government that the very basic concepts of data loss and the digital dark age appear to be unknown to you. I also refer you to the Domesday Project.

Question 6: Are there any other matters directly related to the retention of digital or paper wills that are not covered by the proposed exercise of the powers in the ECA 2000 that you consider are necessary?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 7: If the Government pursues preserving permanently only a digital copy of a will document, should it seek to reform the primary legislation by introducing a Bill or do so under the ECA 2000?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 8: If the Government moves to digital only copies of original will documents, what do you think the retention period for the original paper wills should be? Please give reasons and state what you believe the minimum retention period should be and whether you consider the Government’s suggestion of 25 years to be reasonable.

There is no good version of this plan. The physical documents should be preserved.

Question 9: Do you agree with the principle that wills of famous people should be preserved in the original paper form for historic interest?

This question betrays deep ignorance of what "historic interest" actually is. The study of history is not simply glorified celebrity gossip. If anything, the physical wills of currently famous people could be considered more expendable as it is likely that their contents are so widely diffused as to be relatively "safe", whereas the wills of so-called "ordinary people" will, especially in aggregate, provide insights that have not yet been explored.

Question 10: Do you have any initial suggestions on the criteria which should be adopted for identifying famous/historic figures whose original paper will document should be preserved permanently?

Abandon this entire lamentable plan. As previously discussed, you do not and cannot know who will be considered "famous" in the future, and fame is a profoundly flawed criterion of historical significance.

Question 11: Do you agree that the Probate Registries should only permanently retain wills and codicils from the documents submitted in support of a probate application? Please explain, if setting out the case for retention of any other documents.

No, all the documents should be preserved indefinitely.

Question 12: Do you agree that we have correctly identified the range and extent of the equalities impacts under each of these proposals set out in this consultation? Please give reasons and supply evidence of further equalities impacts as appropriate.

No. You appear to have neglected equalities impacts entirely. As discussed, in your drive to prioritise "famous people", your plan will certainly prioritise the white, wealthy and mostly the male, as your "Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin and Princess Diana" examples amply indicate. This plan will create a two-tier system where evidence of the lives of the privileged is carefully preserved while information regarding people of colour, women, the working class and other disadvantaged groups is disproportionately abandoned to digital decay and eventual loss. Current and future historians from, or specialising in the history of minority groups will be especially impoverished by this.  

[nasa]

What We Learned from Flying a Helicopter on Mars

The Ingenuity Mars Helicopter made history – not only as the first aircraft to perform powered, controlled flight on another world – but also for exceeding expectations, pushing the limits, and setting the stage for future NASA aerial exploration of other worlds.

Built as a technology demonstration designed to perform up to five experimental test flights over 30 days, Ingenuity performed flight operations from the Martian surface for almost three years. The helicopter ended its mission on Jan. 25, 2024, after sustaining damage to its rotor blades during its 72nd flight.

So, what did we learn from this small but mighty helicopter?

We can fly rotorcraft in the thin atmosphere of other planets.

Ingenuity proved that powered, controlled flight is possible on other worlds when it took to the Martian skies for the first time on April 19, 2021.

Flying on planets like Mars is no easy feat: The Red Planet has a significantly lower gravity – one-third that of Earth’s – and an extremely thin atmosphere, with only 1% the pressure at the surface compared to our planet. This means there are relatively few air molecules with which Ingenuity’s two 4-foot-wide (1.2-meter-wide) rotor blades can interact to achieve flight.

Ingenuity performed several flights dedicated to understanding key aerodynamic effects and how they interact with the structure and control system of the helicopter, providing us with a treasure-trove of data on how aircraft fly in the Martian atmosphere.

Now, we can use this knowledge to directly improve performance and reduce risk on future planetary aerial vehicles.

Creative solutions and “ingenuity” kept the helicopter flying longer than expected.

Over an extended mission that lasted for almost 1,000 Martian days (more than 33 times longer than originally planned), Ingenuity was upgraded with the ability to autonomously choose landing sites in treacherous terrain, dealt with a dead sensor, dusted itself off after dust storms, operated from 48 different airfields, performed three emergency landings, and survived a frigid Martian winter.

Fun fact: To keep costs low, the helicopter contained many off-the-shelf-commercial parts from the smartphone industry - parts that had never been tested in deep space. Those parts also surpassed expectations, proving durable throughout Ingenuity’s extended mission, and can inform future budget-conscious hardware solutions.

There is value in adding an aerial dimension to interplanetary surface missions.

Ingenuity traveled to Mars on the belly of the Perseverance rover, which served as the communications relay for Ingenuity and, therefore, was its constant companion. The helicopter also proved itself a helpful scout to the rover.

After its initial five flights in 2021, Ingenuity transitioned to an “operations demonstration,” serving as Perseverance’s eyes in the sky as it scouted science targets, potential rover routes, and inaccessible features, while also capturing stereo images for digital elevation maps.

Airborne assets like Ingenuity unlock a new dimension of exploration on Mars that we did not yet have – providing more pixels per meter of resolution for imaging than an orbiter and exploring locations a rover cannot reach.

Tech demos can pay off big time.

Ingenuity was flown as a technology demonstration payload on the Mars 2020 mission, and was a high risk, high reward, low-cost endeavor that paid off big. The data collected by the helicopter will be analyzed for years to come and will benefit future Mars and other planetary missions.

Just as the Sojourner rover led to the MER-class (Spirit and Opportunity) rovers, and the MSL-class (Curiosity and Perseverance) rovers, the team believes Ingenuity’s success will lead to future fleets of aircraft at Mars.

In general, NASA’s Technology Demonstration Missions test and advance new technologies, and then transition those capabilities to NASA missions, industry, and other government agencies. Chosen technologies are thoroughly ground- and flight-tested in relevant operating environments — reducing risks to future flight missions, gaining operational heritage and continuing NASA’s long history as a technological leader.

You can fall in love with robots on another planet.

Following in the tracks of beloved Martian rovers, the Ingenuity Mars Helicopter built up a worldwide fanbase. The Ingenuity team and public awaited every single flight with anticipation, awe, humor, and hope.

Check out #ThanksIngenuity on social media to see what’s been said about the helicopter’s accomplishments.

Learn more about Ingenuity’s accomplishments here. And make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[ataraxiaspainting]

Stuck Replaying the Memory.

Yan Aventurine x GN (Avgin) Reader.

Synopsis: Life exists with the support of the Aeons, but malice is something humanity has reigned over for thousands of years.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, human trafficking, the reader is described having blonde hair and Avgin eyes, descriptions of past abuse (not from Aventurine), and major spoilers for Aventurine's backstory.

Word Count: 700.

a big thanks to my friends @harmonysanreads and @mochinon-yah for proofreading some of it!!

*~*~*~*

You were taught to keep your head down and your hopes just as low – hell seems like heaven this far beneath dead soil and skeletons of the past’s nameless victims.

Your new god makes no critique of your stance that is akin to a prayer’s and not a slave. Despite your posture being near perfect from the eleven or so past lords and ladies that would burn your skin and tongue with hot iron if you had done otherwise, you still find your posture imperfect. Impolite. There were screams and fires just moments before – your master and his new wife fleeing with guards, pleading for mercy that they had never granted to you – and then silence from outside your chamber.

*~*~*~*

“Hair like honey,” The man’s fingers brushing through your locks are cold and have long nails; the same ones that the woman caresses your scarred back with. “Eyes like jewels. Pretty rare little thing; there aren’t many of you left… If you misbehave, perhaps that number will decline even further.”

*~*~*~*

The divine starts to kneel before you – one of his hands caressing the tattoo on the side of your neck. 

It’s an odd sight; so odd that you have the urge to look up.

You don’t though, because you have been taught how not to get hurt when great beings bless you with their presence.

You hear him read your new name aloud. “Sun…”

You wince from the past memories of it being called in the places where dinner guests would populate the most on the estate. The gardens and the banquet table especially. They would gawk at you and give you all their unwanted attention. Your behavior would be evaluated and you would either be rewarded with gifts befitting that of a royal or chains befitting that of a dog.

“That isn’t your real name, right?”

 The question is raised with a tone that is often paired with your wrist, or worse your hair or ear, being tugged until you confess an answer to the presumption or question. Suspicion of treason leads to you getting charged for the crimes you did to help yourself – a small tunnel being dug with a spoon, a lockpick made from a bobby pin one of the maids put in your hair, bleeding feet from running as fast as they could carry you – most of the time you get hurt or put in a small room by yourself until you beg to be released from it.

*~*~*~*

“But if you listen, the promise to love you will never be broken.” His wife adds.

*~*~*~*

This god looks like you.

Eyes akin to a galaxy that has lost its stars. Flowing hair that reminds you of your lord’s treasure trove locked down below. There is a tattoo on his neck similar to yours, but has some imperfections that only you would notice. It says ‘Slave’ but the outline of the word seems a bit rough. The artist had an uncooperative muse it would seem.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. His tone is sweeter now – possibly from how he had taken note of the trembling you were trying so hard to hide. Your ears register his voice and your brain compares the many screaming, yelling, heinous voices from the past. The memory starts to play in your brain like an electrical shock one of the maids would give to you whenever you would do so much as to look past the doorway to the outside world.

“Kakavasha?”

“It’s Aventurine now,” Your old friend stands up holding the chain attached to your handcuffs. Something tells you they won’t come off any time soon. “We have a lot to discuss, [First].”

He swings the key in his other hand and puts it in his pocket.

“I’m not letting you go again.”