#the contrast between them may not be so sharp as this post suggests.

[bridonebrere]

for all the shit lewis sometimes gets for his heavy-handed christian allegories, tolkien's work feels more deeply saturated in it tbh... christological themes of course echo throughout but on a more fundamental level, his cosmology (more than lewis's) hinges on racial and spiritual hierarchy. the racial elements are fairly obvious, but even individual races are subject to rigorous ordering: the seemingly arbitrary inequality between valar and maiar; the mightier and fairer high elves who saw the light of aman and the moriquendi who did not; men of darkness, men of the twilight, men of the west of diminished glory who are, or were, higher than the others, stronger and wiser, longer lived, and naturally owed allegiance. better, higher bloodlines: far from social constructs, confirmed by prophecy and magic. all over the place, detailed classifications that prompt questions like "why is it like this? why does it have to be this way?" and for all their equally detailed in-universe justifications, behind it all is the fact that hierarchy is divinely ordained and the unquestionable condition of the world. kind of a bummer honestly

[tremendously-crazy]

Ranting about ACD Johnlock because these Victorian husbands need to be happy for me

What the hell happened between Holmes and Watson in 1902 and 1903?

Context: 3GAR is described as happening in July 1902, and ILLU happened in 1902. CREE and BLAN happened in 1903.

In 1902, Holmes and Watson were inseparable.

I don't even need to elaborate when I mention 3GAR. "It was worth a wound" should be enough to remind you of why. I was so touched when I read Holmes seeing his Watson injured and rushing to his side. He is terrified at the thought of losing his friend. It was amazing to read this seemingly cold, distant, and unemotional man threatening to murder the man who almost killed his best friend. There was loyalty, there was love, and it was beautiful.

According to ILLU, in 1902, they're also frequenting Turkish baths together. (which, I might add, was a common place for homosexual men to gather, do with that knowledge what you may) They're lying side by side on two couches with nothing but a blanket on either of them as they dry off. Watson hears Holmes is injured and nearly passes out, and he rushes to Baker Street to see him as soon as possible. He is terrified at the thought of losing his friend. He gingerly sits at his bedside to ensure that Holmes is okay. These are all very intimate things to do between friends. Indeed, this even suggests the possibility of the two being lovers.

IMAGINE that. These two are inseparable. Clearly, these two stories help to build on the idea that they love each other (platonically or romantically. To me, they seem romantically involved, but even as friends, they do love each other. It's all up to personal preference.) Their relationship is so strong, more than anything we have seen before. These stories showcase their love for each other and how passionate they are for each other.

Now, flash forward to 1903, when CREE and BLAN take place, and we are given an entirely different narrative. Watson describes himself as one of Holmes's "habits" in CREE, saying he felt as though he was an accessory to Holmes. Their relationship is "peculiar," and he is only called over to Baker Street as some kind of tool Holmes can talk to or use on a case. Holmes can rely on Watson, and he is, in a way, taking advantage of his reliability. Throughout the entire story, we can feel the tension between these two (remember how Watson had to stress over his practice in order to join Holmes on the case, and Holmes seemingly did not care at all). It seems partially resolved by the end, but there is still a feeling of bitterness that was fully apparent to me while I was reading it. It seemed like their interactions were angsty and passive-aggressive.

In BLAN, Watson does not even live with Holmes anymore, around a year after 3GAR and ILLU. Holmes explains he has "deserted" him for a wife, which he described as "the most selfish action I can recall in our years of association." Holmes was alone. In the story, Holmes cannot stop talking about how much he misses "his" Watson.

These four stories have such a sharp contrast. They have been absolutely terrorizing my brain a lot as of late. I feel like them being so close in ILLU, and *the* moment in 3GAR are some of their strongest moments together. They are both so terrified to lose each other. How is it that a year later, according to the canon, they are barely on speaking terms? My question is, if we are to trust the canon dates, what happened during those months that caused them to drift apart so terribly? How could Watson leave his Holmes for a wife so recently after these frightening events?

Another point about this supposed second wife. I don't think she even existed. (I do think Mary was really Watson's wife, and I might've reblogged a post about it somewhere) But about the second wife. As far as I'm aware, she's mentioned one (1) time in one (1) story by Holmes, and it was likely just a ploy by ACD to separate them (oh well, I'll just give him a wife. That'll separate them good enough.) It's easily enough ignored for that reason. Watson was, in fact, away from Baker Stret, but the idea of a wife was, in all probability, just made up by Holmes as an excuse for his absence.

I'd like to add my personal headcanon because the continuity in Sherlock Holmes is actually so messed up. John is called James in one story (TWIS, if you want to see for yourself.) October 9, 1890, is called a Saturday when it was really a Thursday (REDH) There's a story set in 1892, when Holmes was supposedly dead... etc, etc. Given the known unreliability of dates in these stories, would it be so unreasonable to suggest that the dates of the four I have talked about were swapped? That, in fact, CREE and BLAN were a falling out in their relationship and that ILLU and 3GAR was their healing? That the former were set in 1902 and the latter, in 1903? I can understand that after knowing someone and living with them for so many years, you may start to take them for granted. But after you narrowly lose them, you would not do such a thing again. (Especially not only a year after such a traumatic experience!!) Therefore, I believe CREE and BLAN were examples of how their relationship was beginning to fail and were actually set in 1902 (or some other date in the latter days of their relationship), and ILLU and 3GAR were reminders of how much they meant to each other, and they happened in 1903 (or, more simply, a year after CREE and BLAN).

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. I know this is completely incorrigible and nobody's gonna read it but I just wanted to get it out there.

TL;DR: Late Sherlock Holmes canon sucks. No way that they had both near death experiences in 3GAR and ILLU, and less than a year latery they can barely stand each other in CREE and BLAN. My personal headcanon says CREE and BLAN were moments of stress in their relationship and that 3GAR and ILLU happened afterward to remind them of how much they appreciated each other and help reconcile them.

[yuurei20]

Twisted Wonderland 2nd Novel translations (pt2)

(first post has run out of space 💦)

Cafeteria Meeting "Cater is seated next to Riddle. Deuce sits beside him and asks, 'Clover-senpai isn’t with you?'"

Meeting Jamil and Kalim (pt1) "‘Why Jamil, Kalim. I did not expect to see you in the cafeteria.’"

Meeting Jamil and Kalim (pt2) "‘Information gets around quickly.’ ‘We just so happened to hear about it. May we bother you for the details?’ In response to Riddle’s inquiry, Jamil narrows his eyes."

Meeting Jamil and Kalim (pt3) "Jamil waits in silence for the conversation to pause, and then continues once more."

Riddle and Unique Magics "‘It's not something that just anyone can do. But the foundation for unique magic often lies in common, basic spells. A mage takes those spells and combines or improves upon them as needed.'"

Grim's Realization (pt1) "‘Magic that can control other people's movements? Man, if I had a unique magic as convenient as that, I'd be controlling the teachers to make every day a self-study day.’"

Grim's Realization (pt2) "‘…Cay-kun thinks Grim might be on to something here.’"

Ruggie Escape (pt1) "Though Yuuya had been hoping that their last class of the afternoon would somehow never end, today it concluded exactly on time."

Ruggie Escape (pt2) "With everyone situated Cater begins with, ‘Let’s get straight to it. Ruggie-kun, do you know anything about this?’"

Ruggie Escape (pt3) "As Riddle does not know the nature of Ruggie’s unique magic, he will need to make the first move."

Ruggie Escape (pt4) "Ace and Deuce immediately look down at their own breast pockets—their magical pens are gone."

Ruggie Escape (pt5) "They are attracting onlookers, now, who further trip up Grim and the others."

About Riddle (pt1) "‘I kinda envy you though, being able to respect your housewarden like that.’"

About Riddle (pt2) "‘Ah!’ Deuce suddenly exclaims aloud, looking to Yuuya for support."

Riddle and Jack (pt1) "‘You have deduced Ruggie Bucchi’s unique magic?’"

Riddle and Jack (pt2) "The look on Deuce’s face seems to say, 'Now you bring this up, after all of that?’"

Riddle and Jack (pt3) "‘It’s just like Yuu says. You haven’t gotten anywhere, and you’re just going to keep repeating what you've been doing like some kind of moron?’"

Riddle and Jack (pt4) "‘I will keep it brief,’ Riddle continues without the slightest shift in his expression."

Savanaclaw Dorm (pt1) "Ruggie had only intended to pass through the lounge, but he is stopped by Leona calling out to him."

Savanaclaw Dorm (pt2) "Ruggie has always suspected that the sharp contrasts between Leona’s reactions are one of the ways in which he manipulates others."

Savanaclaw Dorm (pt3) "‘Heh. Celebrating already, when you’ve barely got claws in your prey.’"

Morning Jack "‘Hey. I said wake up.’"

The Day of the Tournament (pt1) "'All right! Is everyone here?'"

The Day of the Tournament (pt2) "The march itself was suggested by the chair of the spelldrive tournament management committee, the housewarden of Octavinelle."

The Day of the Tournament (pt3) "Instantly, the auditorium erupts into sound."

The Day of the Tournament (pt4) "’He’s saying that, but both Ace and I have already accepted it.’"

The Day of the Tournament (pt5) "‘Saying he should stop causing so much trouble for his vice-house warden, that kind of stuff.’"

The Day of the Tournament (pt6) "‘I heard that it’s because the housewarden tutors people who are at risk of failing their classes."

To the Festival (pt1) "They descend the long staircase, turn onto Main Street, and suddenly everything is different from what they are used to seeing."

To the Festival (pt2) "Shops line sides of the street, offering colorful foods and goods packed together under white canvas awnings."

Jack and Yuuya "First-year student, Jack, has been selected to play for Savanaclaw."

Meeting Azul (pt1) “'Oh my, is that Jack Howl of Savanaclaw?’"

Meeting Azul (pt2) "‘My name is Azul Ashengrotto, and I am honored to be the housewarden of Octavinelle. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’"

The Potion (pt1) “‘Attention all visitors of the Night Raven College Interdorm Spelldrive Tournament."

The Potion (pt2) "Ruggie sees nothing wrong with this."

The Stampede (pt1) “‘Ruggie is not in the procession.’"

The Stampede (p2) "Everyone nearby who had been enjoying their day just moments before has joined in the screaming, fleeing in all directions."

The Confrontation (pt1) "Shutting down his unique magic, Ruggie runs towards the tower at the edge of the sports field."

The Confrontation (pt2) "‘Well, well.’ Leona greets Riddle with an exaggerated bow."

The Confrontation (pt3) "‘Points for enthusiasm, but what’s left for you to do?"

The Confrontation (pt4) "‘How. You should have all been caught in that stampede.’"

The Confrontation (pt5) "He straightens his posture even more and raises his voice once again."

The Confrontation (pt6) "‘There is no chance. At all,’ Leona asserts in a clear voice."

Leona's Unique Magic (pt1) "From somewhere comes a low voice. At first Yuuya cannot tell who it is, but looking around him he notices Ruggie, his eyes dark and shimmering."

Leona's Unique Magic (pt2) "Yuuya looks up at the sky in a daze, and then feels something tickle at his ankle. Gently moving sand is pricking at his skin."

Leona Collared "Leona fights to remove the collar by force, his hair whipping about his face in his violent struggle."

Facing down an overblotting Leona, Riddle has a confession to make "Riddle confronts the glowering Leona with determination. ‘I am not mocking you. Leona-senpai. I respected you.’"

Leona and Lilia "Riddle is already looking ahead. He has his regrets and his turmoil, but he still continues on the path of becoming a good housewarden."

Leona and Ruggie, to overblot (pt1) "‘Leona-san, what are you thinking!?’ Ruggie steps in front of Leona. ‘Why would you use your unique magic like this…if you keep going—‘ ‘Why?’ Leona interrupts. 'Obviously, it’s to shut you all up.’"

Leona and Ruggie, to overblot (pt2) "‘Right, Ruggie? I really can't stand people who don't listen. I thought you would've figured that out by now. You're skilled at reading people's moods and selling them flattery, after all.’"

The Transformation "‘It is you who should be silent!’ Lilia shouts."

Cater and Yuuya "'Ruggie is lying nearby. Yuuya wraps one of Ruggie’s arms around his shoulders and Grim attempts to take a share of Ruggie’s weight by grabbing onto his thin waist, but the limp body weighs them down."

Ruggie Wakes Up "Jack's agile wolf body slides across the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and dirtying his fur. Leona gives him a cold, piercing glance."

The Overblot Battle "Columns of sand rise up and advance towards Ruggie and the others, engulfing everything in their path."

Leona and Falena "From the moment I was born, there’s been a boulder on top of me that’s too heavy to move."

Post-Overblot Leona (the flashback monologue) "I grew tired of thinking, so I decided to enroll at Night Raven College, though I had no interest in it. I knew I was just running away from the pain, but my heart felt lighter, nonetheless."

Leona Wakes Up (pt1) "Ignoring Yuuya's attempts to stop him, Grim brings his mouth so close to Leona's ear that they are nearly touching, and takes a deep breath."

Leona Wakes Up (pt2) "‘It is possible that you are not yet thinking clearly. It is wholly understandable that you are still confused’,’ Riddle says, but Leona’s confusion does not have anything to do with the desperate Grim.

Overblot Aftermath (pt1) "'I see… understood.'"

Overblot Aftermath (pt2) Coming Soon

Jack and Leona (pt4) "‘All this messing around. We don’t have time for this!’ Released from Ruggie’s unique magic, Leona rubs against his reddened cheeks and raises his eyes."

Trusting Riddle "In the very front row, Riddle puts a hand to his mouth as he shouts, ‘What are you getting despondent over? Defeat Leona-senpai, beat the crap out of him!’ The normally refined Riddle swings his fist around."

The Exhibition Match (pt1) "The disc passes to Deuce as he races down the side of the field. Deuce is not as skilled as Ace, but he has stamina, and he is fast on his feet. He effortlessly overtakes the grouped players of Yuuya and the others, steadily advancing towards the goal."

The Exhibition Match (pt2) "With a glance for the ghosts who come for him, Leona sharply calls out, ‘Jack!’"

The Exhibition Match (pt3) "Ruggie and Jack rush to Leona, who has fallen to his knees, his hands flat on the ground."

Yuuya Knocked Out Grim is called over, the ghosts are gathered, and Yuuya huddles with Ace and Deuce to set the strategy for their next move.

Cheka (pt1) "‘Unca, I finally found you!’ Something bounces like a ball into the infirmary."

Cheka (pt2) "Cheka looks to Jack with his large, round eyes, only to turn abruptly about and go to hug Leona again."

Cheka (pt3) "'Perhaps realizing that he is being laughed at, Cheka looks around the room with a curious look."

[katakaluptastrophy]

TLT meta post suggestion: explain the biblical significance of Paul to someone who knows jackshit about Christianity?

Paul is what happens when a clever person with establishment clout has a searing moment of metaphysical transformation that allows them to become a real nuisance...

The very TL;DNR version of Paul in Christianity (Bible!Paul, if you will) is that he was once an observant Jew called Saul who was involved in persecuting the early church. But one day, while enthusiastically doing this, he is struck blind by a huge flash of light and hears the voice of Jesus. From that point on he is known as "Paul", becomes an enthusiastic follower of Jesus, and helps to spread the gospel. Specifically, he is referred to as the 'apostle to the gentiles', taking the teachings of Jesus beyond its early Jewish roots to the wider Mediterranean world.

On a basic level, Necro!Paul being 'Paul' is probably a reference to that blazing moment of transformation - Bible!Paul is both continuity and change: the same passion, but expressed very differently. Well-educated, willing to cause trouble, and energised by something beyond the human norm.

But it's their speech to Ianthe where the Biblical stuff really starts to come through. It's worth noting that letters written by Bible!Paul (or 'written by him') account for nearly half of the books of the Christian New Testament and are hugely foundational in Christian theology.

And Necro!Paul's speech to Ianthe is full of Biblical references:

"I know how hard it is for you to kick against the goad," said the new person. "But there are more worlds than this. Come with us. We are the love that is perfected by death - but even death will be no more; death can also die."

That first line, 'kick against the goad', is a direct reference to Paul's 'Road to Damascus' moment where he hears Jesus:

I saw in the way a light from heaven above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me, and them that were in company with me. And when we were all fallen down on the ground, I heard a voice speaking to me in the Hebrew tongue: Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? It is hard for thee to kick against the goad. And I said: Who art thou, Lord? And the Lord answered: I am Jesus whom thou persecutest. - Acts 26:13-15

To kick against the goad (or, in the slightly more colourful language of the KJV 'kick against the pricks') is to engage in an excercise in futility. It's a reference to an ox goad, a sharp instrument used to steer oxen in farming, which would hurt the animal if it tried to kick against it instead of following where it was being directed.

It's an acknowledgement that Ianthe is doing something that rubs profoundly up against the metaphysical grain, that her own proud self-direction will only hurt her in the end.

'More worlds than this' is a reference to Hamlet, which Dulcie of course also quotes in TUG. (Hamlet rather seems to haunt the question of the River Beyond, but that's not what we're discussing right now...)

'We are the love that is perfected by death' is, I suspect, meant to reference two different Bible verses. The first is:

Put me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy as hard as hell, the lamps thereof are fire and flames. - Song of Solomon 8:6

Despite centuries of the church trying to claim that it's about the spiritual relationship between God and man, the Song of Solomon is now generally accepted to be a sexy poem about sex. So that's an interesting thing for the fusion of Palamedes and Camilla to quote... But perhaps more salient here is what's contrasted to the strength of love and death, which is jealousy and hell. Ianthe is being offered a chance at redemption - which is of course Bible!Paul's whole thing - which she summarily rejects. I'm sure, given NTN ending with Harrow going off to, one assumes, er, harrow hell, that this won't be relevant at all...

The other verse that 'love that is perfected by death' may be referencing is:

In this is the charity of God perfected with us, that we may have confidence in the day of judgment: because as he is, we also are in this world. Fear is not in charity: but perfect charity casteth out fear, because fear hath pain. And he that feareth, is not perfected in charity. Let us therefore love God, because God first hath loved us. If any man say, I love God, and hateth his brother; he is a liar. For he that loveth not his brother, whom he seeth, how can he love God, whom he seeth not? And this commandment we have from God, that he, who loveth God, love also his brother. - 1 John 4:17-21

The quotation in the Douay-Rhiems translation (apparently the preferred translation of lesbian necromancers in space, if Gideon the Ninth is anything to go by) is a little opaque, but 'charity' is an old timey way of translating 'love'. Essentially, this passage says that those who love God and are loved by God do not need to fear the day of judgement, and clarifies a bit about what it means to love God.

There are two things that are important.

The first is that this is from 1 John. There are five Biblical texts associated with St John: the Gospel of John, the Book of Revelation, and three Epistles (letters). Revelation is John's vision of the end of the world - and if you're wondering whether it's relevant that The Locked Tomb features a guy called John who ends the world, yes, it is - but the Epistles were written right at the end of his life. And 1 John has two themes that might be relevant to The Locked Tomb: the first is the question of what it means to love god (spoiler: the answer is not 'dinner and a movie'), and the second is whether your actions matter.

The second thing that might be relevant here is that just before this in 1 John 4, there is a warning about not heeding false prophets. Specifically, it warns about the antichrist. You know, the thing Necro!John says he was repeatedly accused of being? The point is that love - love properly understood - can protect you from the wiles of the antichrist. Probably not a relevant theme as we head off into the 'you have not yet begun to witness the horrors of love' book where people are presumably facing down a pretender god...

The final part of Paul's speech to Ianthe - 'death will be no more' - is also Johannine: this time from Revelation:

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes: and death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be any more, for the former things are passed away. - Revelation 21:4

This comes from a section where the Biblical John watches as the old world is destroyed and the new Jerusalem descends from Heaven. Death and sorrow are ended, and the righteous will rule with God. The sinful have a less fun time of it, involving fire and brimstone and 'the second death'. If that sounds familiar, it's because Necro!John cribbed that particular bit when making up his shoddy Space Catholicism (TM). (The implications of this really deserves a much longer treatment, so watch this space...)

One of the nice things about Tamsyn Muir's Biblical parallels is they're not generally exact. But it's perhaps relevant to note that amongst Bible!Paul's rather dramatic adventures are quite a few instances of casting demons out of people, starting at least one riot, shipwreck, and an "Incident at Antioch". Also...it's probably not relevant that the writings of St Paul were the turning point in the conversion of St Augustine...specifically a section about how the end of the world is nigh so you'd better get your act together...

All in all, Paul is...a very niche joke about Plato, hopefully not a joke about Dune, and mostly very, very apocalyptic. A new beginning at the end of the world! An offer of redemption to those swimming against the current! A warning to false gods! A sign that the end is nigh! All of which suggests Alecto the Ninth is going to be a wild ride (as if we didn't know that already).

[ashysmultifandomcatdump]

Rambles about my Lord Wander AU yippee :)

finally Properly drew my lord wander design...he's basically the same but with more sharp edges (inspired by craig mccracken's concept sketches!) and a goofy outfit for when he's Eviling Out with s shooting star motif on it to contrast lord dom's bleeding heart!!! he does have a suit which the shooting star would be more Clear on but i have yet to get around to drawing it...i have been thinking about this AU for over a year now and i think i've finally figured out enough to talk about it so i will under the cut :)

i think for Structural Purposes i will talk about dominator and sylvia first. wander and dom are the only main swaps in this AU (with a smaller swap i think between the hat and dombots because it's Fun) so everyone else stays the same, though due to sylvia's proximity to dom, she has a significant enough change to discuss!!! (i am gonna sneakily reuse art from my last post for this bit hehe)

dee and sylvia travel around together on their own ship! i think the overall tone would be opposite the actual show—while WOY having wander as the main character has it be a goofy, silly show about love and friendship that's interrupted by dominator who's more serious and designed to be more like an anime villain—the tone of the AU with dee at the head would have it be more generally serious and wander's presence brings in something a bit goofier (this is kinda what he does in the show anyway. like everyone takes things seriously and then wander doesn't and people learn from him)! so dee and sylvia are both more keen to use a bit of Violence to get through everything. though that's not to say there's No goofiness, of course there is i mean. when your main opponent is lord hater of course there is!!! dom's also a menace to him like wander is, just in a bit of a different way. they just normally show up and beat them and hater doesn't react well to that of course—his degradation as a villain still ends up happening

dee also builds her little bot friends, for both practical purposes and companionship purposes :) she still names them in numbers though, not out of lack of care she is just absolutely dogshit at naming, forgive her

anyway a reason i brought up the tone thing is that wander isn't necessarily revealed just in the 'season 2' of the AU. there's kind of a looming threat in the background contributing to that. it's gone by lots of different names in lots of different galaxies, but generally is referred to as The End of the Galaxy (or just The End for short!). as suggested by the name, loads of different galaxies have been destroyed in the past. kind of like a force of nature. survivors don't really seem to be sure what exactly it is, only that it's been called by a different name each time, and nobody could stop it before it was too late. and guess who that is!!!!!!!!!!

our silly little friend whom we love the best!!!!!!!

i REALLY REALLY love roleswaps that keep the characters' personalities as intact as possible and that's what i tried to do here!! this guy may be evil as hell, but he's still Wander. he loves friends and having fun and still has that cheery attitude! he almost seems completely harmless at first! and that is part of the Plot in my head is, actually. my first ever thoughts of that spurned the creation this AU were him being a seemingly completely innocuous recurring character throughout the first 'season' of the AU, just showing up at random times, being Wander, you know. all that stuff. with the main gang not really paying him any mind, calling him a 'wandering weirdo' (since he always disappears before they can actually ask what his name is...). and none of them recognize him as The End until he actually reveals himself.

but see, he's actually grown quite attached to them! through all his time following them around, he thinks oh...aren't these folks just lovely!! he truly actually sees him as his friends. and so to honor their wonderful nickname for him, and to pay homage to his dear buddy hater, he decided his name this time around would be Lord Wander! and he'd be a Professional Villain, so they could hang out even more!! isn't he just so nice!!!

and he just doesn't seem to play by the rules at all...while they're trying to fight him, he's giggling and dodging out of the way, hitting them with...pies? just generally bugs bunny-ing out on them? he spends his time messing with them, annoying them, all the same insisting he won't fight because it's Too Violent—you know, the guy who's Killing People. it frustrates them all and he has such fun Playing with them...except dee.

one of my favorite things in the show is how wander just straight up does not like dominator. so i felt it'd be funny to keep that. dee ignores him when he's being all zany like that and he HATES her for it. he won't say it Directly, but it's kinda clear in his attitude how much she annoys him. and with all his Evilness, this would not lead to good things.

another thing about the way He Is is his exemplified traits of the other characters. like how dom was more excitable than wander, tougher than sylvia, more evil than hater and smarter than peepers; lord wander i think would be more chaotic than dom, faster than sylvia, more obsessive than hater, and more strategic than peepers (spinel if you're reading this Thank You for those last two).

anddddd i also must mention his luck because that's Very interesting in this scenario...i do think he has some form of Natural Luck Magic, and he does still have his hat (there's lots i have in mind about the hat. but i won't get into it right now), but a non-insignificant portion of his luck in the show does come from the good karma he receives from helping others. meanwhile lord wander does lots of Bad Things. does he rack up bad karma? does he do good deeds when not Eviling Out in order to cancel it out? i had these same questions a year ago and honestly i am not sure which i want to go with. both are fascinating to me

i do think that unlike dominator he would be in some way redeemable. i don't have his entire methods and motivations mapped out yet, but it's hard to find a way where he just Wouldn't be redeemable. because he's wander. you know? unlike dominator being lonely being why she didn't just kill everyone, wander does genuinely see them as his friends. he's just got a really, REALLY fucked up way of showing it. i've even considered the idea that he doesn't Actually go out of his way to kill people and only destroys the planets, making sure there are survivors but Hmmmmm i don't know about that one. it's a tough balance trying to make sure he's an actual threat. but it is something i consider. him being like a natural disaster in a sense.

this ended up being very disjointed but iiiii needed to get my thoughts Properly out there. here's the twitter thread i made last year of my initial thoughts. i Do have More in my head but i'm not really sure how to get them down in a way that makes sense...i would love to talk more about it though (especially since i have not talked much about the others other than wander. sorry he is my favorite. but i do think about the others A Lot i just didn't know what things to talk about hegshgshhg) so if anyone wants to hear more insane ramblings👍👍👍tell me👍👍👍👍👍👍i'm not normal about it👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍

[rosekasa]

what are your top five books? (love your writing by the way!!)

ANON THANK YOU!!! and thank you x2 for this question i was actually hoping id get asked this when i reblogged the post HAHEJEJEJWJEJEJ

im gonna paste the reviews i wrote for them (if i have them logged)

these are my top 5 books for 2024!

1. a thousand splendid suns - khaled hosseini (reread)

i think, above all, this is a love story in the broadest way possible. it is about love interwoven with fear, in an environment where survival is not guaranteed -- or, rather, is not guaranteed to be easy. in the context of the afghan war hosseini brings together two women under the same roof in a co-wifeship, and how, despite all the differences between them, love blossoms from their shared sisterhood and desire to protect one another. allyship against their abusive husband turns into a friendship turns into what becomes a mother-daughter relationship, a sharp, tearjerking contrast from the harsh conditional tolerance the rest of the world treat these women. a quote from the beginning of the book encapsulates this story perfectly: a man's heart is not like a mother's womb. it will not stretch to accommodate for you. it will not bleed. but despite not being of each other's wombs, mariam and laila did exactly this for one another, stretched and bled until, at least through one of them, they could experience a birth into a better life.

2. lolita - vladimir nabokov (reread)

lolita is not a love story. i have said this every time i have read the book, but in my third pass, as a 20 year old instead of a 14 or 17 year old, all the flowery prose, the carefully hidden details feel like they've been peeled off like a fruit skin and left the bare rinds of what this story is. humbert humbert kidnapped a 12 year old girl, drove her around the states, and raped her for a year. not to mention the abuse that continued after that.

this book deserves five stars because nabokov is clearly a master in creating an unreliable narrator. there were times i questioned whether anything we knew about humbert was real at all -- the small suggestions that he has embellished certain details, this insistence of creating 'art' and taking liberties for that purpose. you could argue that humbert is delusional, but i actually don't think he is. i think he knows exactly what he is and what he did but is psychopathically aware of creating a new version of himself and his story to make a good story for the 'jury'. because we do see his true colours, very often, in fact, colours that betray his claims that he loves lo, that he believes she's the one who can control him -- for example, the evaluation of Charlotte haze in his ability to 'twist her wrist' as he did with valeria, his almost disgust at some of the regular 12-year-old things lo was into (magazines, etc), and, most importantly, the fact he states the murder of quilty was actually the intended climax of his memoir all along, the whole purpose of his work. that's not to mention his obsession with 'capturing' lo -- in his journal entries, in the desire to take photos of her while she played tennis, in the very act of calling her 'lolita'.

i think this book is a disgusting, monstrous work of art. always enthralled by nabokov's mastery everytime i read this

3. rumi: selected poems

(this review was a load of nonsense so this is the redacted version)

like soap washing with our dirt, rumi cleans us, leaves us empty, draws our awareness back into the infinite.

4. gora - rabindranath tagore

after reading this i had to sit in silence for a while to just. process. because WOW. out of all of tagore's translated novels, this may have been my favourite -- the critical commentary on identity that home and the world could have been if it were longer! when binoy grows close to a brahmo family, conflict arises between him and his best friend gora -- a fierce adherant to hindu principles, especially the separation of caste. what follows are a series of events that brings into question the foundation of each character's religious principles -- what is impurity? what does it mean? how much of a person's worldly community should a person be expected to sacrifice for their religion? and how much of these principles are intrinsic, inherent in the hearts of all believers, and how much is learned, a garment clutched onto by believers for a sense of identity? to what extent can this garment be actually beneficial -- and to what extent harmful, weaponised to separate oneself from others and monochromise a world filled with different colours? filled with as many perspectives as there are characters, tagore observes the nature of religion, with all its guidance and restraints, and how spirituality can turn into tyranny in times where one's identity is threatened. a work extremely relevant to the british raj and the divisions thus created within hindustani society!

5. a little life - hanya yanagihara

i hestitated to pick this up because i've definitely heard some interesting opinions about it, to say the least. i've heard people say it's one of those books that are sad for no reason, that pile on the trauma just for the shock value. and, while on one hand, i can see where opinions like this come from, i can't disagree more. the sadness is there for a purpose. maybe not in a way that the characters can see, but in the way that we can see -- the purpose of showing us that no matter how much meaningless sadness, the unfairness of pain we have in our lives, the people who love us will always try to fight for us to stay alive, and, at the same time, how this fight may, at the end of the day, be for nothing, and yet it doesn't stop us from fighting. yanagihara explores friendship, love, and devotion, the decision to keep loving someone, the decision to make someone 'less sick' if they can't make them get better. heartbreaking in the futility of efforts, in the decades-lasting scars from experiences jude had no control over, in the complications in all his relationships, the people who want him to stay, and the trauma in him that makes it so hard to stay, we see that loving people isn't necessarily about how easy it is to be with them, but about how much we are willing to try.

ask me my top 5 anything

[angelosearch]

Rinoa's Side of the Scene

WARNING: This post contains spoilers for Chapter 17 of Chaos Theory! I wrote a scene from both Squall's and Rinoa's perspectives to decide which one I wanted to go with. I ended up going with Squall's, but I thought I'd share Rin's anyhow! Heads up I also haven't done any editing to this version so it may not exactly align with the final scene anymore.

This is related to a scene at the very end of Chapter 17. Read at your own risk!

In the light of the candle, Squall’s intense blue eyes were cast a lively grey. Yellow swept over his high cheekbones and the shadows gave his jaw and clavicle a greater sharpness in the contrast. Rinoa was entranced by each flicker. He was truly beautiful, even now, in his stress and vulnerability. Maybe even more so.

“Rinoa,” he said in the darkness.

Has he always said my name that way?

“You’ve been… really nice to have around for all of this.”

It was barely a platitude from someone else. But from Squall, it made her heart leap. She wondered if he could see her smile with so little light.

He was looking at her now, really looking at her. And for once, when she met his gaze, he did not look away. He may have even leaned forward slightly.

Rinoa pursed her lips, and then looked at Squall’s. He still hadn’t looked away.

She took a few careful steps forward, closing the distance between them until they were standing chest-to-chest. Rinoa could not determine what Squall’s exact expression was, but she could see the silhouette of his head tilting.

She took that as the signal.

She her arms on Squall’s shoulders and pushed herself upwards until her lips met his. They were as warm as the firelight suggested, and pillowy soft.

They also… didn’t move.

At all.

Rinoa stayed in place for several seconds, giving Squall time to respond in any way whatsoever. It would make sense if something like this would take him a second.

But it was as if someone had cast Stop on him.

Rinoa pulled away sharply.

OH FUCK WHY DID I DO THAT! STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!

Squall still hadn’t moved. She was beginning to wonder if she should throw a dispel his way.

“Uhhh… I… umm…”

“Oh I am so sorry. I am so sorry,” Rinoa stammered.

Her face was hot, her stomach in knots. She wanted to cry, and also change her name, or perhaps be locked away and never seen or heard from again.

“You had a really hard day and I think I just got swept up—you know what, it doesn’t matter, that was stupid and you can forget it ever happened!” Rinoa blurted out as quickly as she could.

She turned and started to walk away. 

“Golly gee, I am super beat so I am just going to go! Goodnight, sir!”

She made the strange choice of saluting him before she bolted up the stairs.

[kindheart525]

Which characters in the Auraverse and Thirdverse have pets?

I thought this was such a fun question that I decided to draw out my answers! Right now I’m only answering for the Auraverse because there are a lot just for that ng, and thus it might be less overwhelming to show the Thirdverse pets in a separate post.

1, 2, and 3. Each of the ColorOak sisters has their own cat, and they reflect just how different (and alike!) the sisters are. Red Cedar has a big, fluffy Maine Coon named Mint Bliss. He is just as majestic and noble in attitude as Cedar likes to imagine his namesake is, and his name reflects her strong grounding in her own faith.  In sharp contrast, Blue Velvet has a hairless Sphinx cat named Velour, to go with her own name. This kitty is spoiled rotten and put in all kinds of outfits for aesthetic photos (which she accepts; Blue wouldn’t make her do it if she fought against it). I mustn’t forget her little corn snake Precious either, who has become Velour’s best friend. Velour loves to chill out with Precious wrapped around her like a sweater as if it’s the height of luxury. Much like her own position between her two sisters, Violet’s kitten is a middle ground between the other two cats in being a regular domestic shorthair. As a black cat, often thought of as a harbinger of bad luck, he was the last in his litter to get adopted. But Violet took one look at him and fell in love, naming him Maestro to reflect the kind of greatness she saw in him. He’s also registered as her emotional support animal to help with her anxiety, and he is very good at doing so.

4. Varmint Venom works with snakes of all shapes and sizes for a living, but only two of them permanently belong to her. You’ve met them before, but here we have Bartholomew (green) and Brenda (brown). Brenda is a real escape artist, never able to be left alone unsupervised even when she’s sealed in a tank. Bartholomew can be a feisty one, always watching for potential prey and flicking his tongue in anticipation, but Varmint knows just how to keep him tame and happy, being the snake whisperer she is.

5. After getting her career back on track, River Morganite eventually gets to a place where she can relax and pursue other interests, which includes adopting a macaw for companionship. Her name is Regina, which is short for Princess Regina Pluma Corona the First. She’s not quite as much of a diva as her name would suggest, as blue and gold macaws are known for being quite sociable. But she still wants to be the center of attention at all times, which is fine by River as they make quite a fabulous pair. She loves letting Regina perch upon her horns like she’s her crown…but she may have also accidentally taught her some curse words. Bloody hell.

6. Due to a mispronounced chant during one of her witch coven’s biweekly meetings, Milkweed has found herself the “mommy” of a giant, carnivorous plant that was once naught but a tiny sprout. When she tried to make the plant grow she didn’t expect it to grow this big, but she doesn’t regret this mistake one bit. Itsy Bitsy is as sweet as can be…to her at least, and to those that she has made clear she trusts. She wouldn’t let him hurt a fly though…I mean a pony, because he does eat flies. She loves to sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider song to him while feeding him spiders, flies, and other bugs and small critters, as their special nightly tradition.

7. Eclipse’s best friend is a little hermit crab named Io, named after one of Jupiter’s moons but much preferring to hide from the great big universe around him. A feeling Eclipse can relate to all too well. They feel like the little crab understands them in this way and that brings them comfort. When they talk to Io about their day to get stuff off their chest, he just sits there with his cute little claws folded and listens, which is all Eclipse could ask for sometimes.

8. While not one individual pet, Snowcone is a friend of the butterflies, having started raising them as a form of therapy. It brings her great joy and comfort to be part of something bigger in contributing to the health of butterfly populations, but she also loves to watch them flutter around in freedom and peace for the sake of each individual. Glasswing butterflies are her favorite, looking so delicate yet being some of the most beautiful of all!

9. Rosemary has an ant farm! When she’s not out playing with Sandpiper, or visiting her grandparents and cousins, she loves nothing more than to sit down and watch her ants roam around, sometimes for hours. It’s so fun to see the inner workings of their lives in such a small box, and it’s a quiet activity that she sometimes prefers over the constant activity of family time.

10. Also not really a pet, but Amour Étreinte really has a charm with the birds and other woodland creatures! Almost everywhere she goes at least a few of them are following her, even in the Crystal Empire which doesn’t have any real forests. And every note she sings has the birds tweeting along in perfect tune. There’s something absolutely magical to it, a surprise and delight to many even in a world where magic is the norm. She’s a true Disneigh Princess!

11. Duchess Daisy Lace Raspberry III is the only dog who has ever been worthy of Best in Show, and anypony who even dares suggest otherwise is a jealous, vindictive bitch. She’s Southern Belle’s pride and joy but everypony else’s nightmare, with a nasty bark AND bite and a trail of slobber following her almost everywhere except when she has to look nice for the cameras. Even other dogs whine and cower in her presence. But Southern Belle is fine with that, in fact she’s downright proud of her dog’s reputation. That only means she’s the best of the best, just like her owner.

12. One might think that a high-society, somewhat snooty filly like Ingenue would have a sharp distaste for rodents, but that couldn’t be further from the truth when it comes to rats. They’re very clean, sociable and intelligent animals and she sees through all the myths that suggest they aren’t. She even has three of her own, a trio of sisters named Dolly, Dora, and Donna. Yes they look kind of alike, and yes their names are remarkably similar, but Ingenue will still get extremely insulted if you dare get them confused. If anything, their little tutus should be a dead giveaway to their individuality (and their owner’s fashion taste). 

13. If anyone would be the type to have a spoiled little dog who’s literally ancient and racks up thousands of bits in vet bills, it would be Saltwater Taffy. Little Gumdrop has hardly taken a single step outside of her purse in his 21 years of life because Taffy wouldn’t dare make him get his tender little paws dirty. Nor has he eaten a single bite of brand-name dog food because he deserves much better than that. (I’m exaggerating with the walking bit, he does get adequate exercise and is legitimately well taken care of despite also being coddled.) If Taffy dares leave him to fend for himself alone in her big, lavish castle, even for 10 minutes, he is absolutely beside himself. And in true Taffy fashion she enables all of it.  But the arrival of her daughter meant welcoming another new furry friend to the family. For Spring Palooza was born with some disabilities that required more assistance with mobility and pain management to help her achieve her best life, assistance which could be best provided by a service dog. Enter Jellybean, the slobbery, constantly-shedding, yet eternally easygoing Saint Bernard tasked with meeting Pally’s caretaking needs. Taffy didn’t expect to be the owner of a dog like this after choosing such a tiny, prissy little creature for herself, but it’s the breed Pally chose among the options presented for a service dog. And Taffy would do anything to make her little girl happy. As for Gumdrop’s opinion, Jellybean is his sworn enemy, but Jellybean has not a single clue about this feud.

14. Because of Stockholm’s love of all things historical, Discord thought it would be a great idea to gift her a real life prehistoric animal as a pet. Now. he could have been extra chaotic and pulled a Jurassic Park with some dinosaurs, but after seeing her get emotional over the evolutionary relationship between Joshua trees and the now-extinct giant ground sloth (Megatherium), he decided that was what he would create for her. Stockholm couldn’t be happier with his selection, loving nothing more than to lounge in the sloth’s favorite tree with her new friend who she’s named Coconut.

15. For as long as she could remember, Slumber Party had always wanted a cuddly little pet to call her own, but she couldn’t have one in the orphanage. But in her free time she did do some reading and decided pretty early on that she wanted some guinea pigs. So when she got adopted, it didn’t take long for her to successfully convince Luna to take her down to the pet store to pick out her new best friend. She settled on a bonded pair, who she’s quite fittingly named Snuggles and Cuddles. She could sit in her room for hours just watching them play and giving them lots of love!

16. As a young adult, Etheria decides to really lean into their gothic and intellectual side and get a pet raven, just like in the poems of old. Edgar lives up to expectations in being extremely intelligent, able to solve puzzles and even use tools to aid Etheria in her work. In her true blunt fashion, Etheria likes to pit their pet raven against her brother Raven, even though the latter is plenty intelligent in his own right. It’s all just affectionate teasing.

17. When he reaches his teenage and young adult years, Meteor Shower follows his mom’s hoofsteps in being a lover of reptiles and gets a badass-looking bearded dragon as a pet. Many reptiles are considered stereotypically masculine pets, especially when the owner is such a guys’ guy like Meteor, but despite his friends’ confusion his little lizard is actually a girl! Pepper is obviously completely indifferent to what she’s called, and is content being part of his aesthetic because it also comes with companionship and quality care.

18. After seeing how much Sahar adored the sea and all the colorful life teeming within, Heavenly Glow decided to give her the ultimate surprise for her birthday and commission a personal fish pond to be built just for her. Needless to say Sahar loved it; in fact, it’s one of her favorite birthday gifts she’s ever received! She loves to watch the fish explore their colorful little habitat, and Heavenly loves watching her love enjoy herself. Although, as something of a half-fish, Heavenly is surprised to find herself feeling slightly jealous when Sahar picks a favorite fish from the pond.

19. The apartment building they live in isn’t particularly welcoming towards pets, but even if it was, Minted Glacier and Blueberry Sticks probably wouldn’t have room to take care of one after putting all their time and money into raising Mint’s daughter. But a pet found its way into their lives anyway when a raccoon fell through their ceiling one day and Mint was unable to deny the begging of his daughter and sister. The young CheBe named him Stripy, but Blueberry has her mind in the gutter with her choice of spelling. Unsurprisingly, this literal wild animal soon proved to be too much to handle, so after less than a week Mint finally put his hoof down and “gave him to somepony with a bigger house” (released him in the wild).

20. Meet Polished Antique’s prized purebred Pekingese, the latest in a long line of esteemed show dogs. Her name is Priscilla Pearl (AKA PeePee), and she is the daughter of Jet Set’s dog William Warwick (AKA WeeWee). PeePee lives a very pampered life with only the most expensive dog food and most luxurious beds. But her whole lifestyle goes out the window when she finds anything even slightly edible on the ground, including literal garbage. Which is what Polly’s cooking looks and tastes like, but he doesn’t seem to realize that even when it sometimes sets the smoke alarms off. In his mind he’s just making his precious girl a special treat. And of course, her eager approval of such putrid sludge tells him absolutely nothing about the actual quality of his dishes.

21. While she doesn’t have a pet of her own, Luster Dawn has a pond behind her house that’s a popular attraction for ducks. When she’s not busy studying or spending time with Flurry, she likes to sit by the pond and meditate on its stillness during her breaks. When she’s lucky a duck will come by and accept her offering of corn and peas that she tosses into the water, and sometimes even a family! Seeing the little ducklings follow their parents reminds her of herself in a bygone era, but in a heartwarming way. She’s happy for them.

22. Following his family’s legacy, Bumblebee has healed many ponies and woodland creatures alike, but one case is extra special to him. One day he found an injured baby squirrel with no parents in sight and vowed to do whatever it took to nurse him back to health. He always tries to follow proper protocol to not hurt their chances of returning to their proper habitat, but he just couldn’t help but fall in love. He even gave the little critter a name, Theodore (AKA Teddy). The time eventually came to release Teddy back into the wild, despite how much it broke Bumble’s heart, but it only took Teddy a couple days to return and make it clear that he was staying. He wasn’t physically incapable of surviving alone, he just didn’t want to. Now he’s Bumblebee’s little companion and helper, and neither would have it any other way.

23. After her father died and it became clear that her family would be spending a lot more time at the rock farm, Limestone decided to buy a rooster for the place to keep everypony’s schedules on track (really because Applejack wanted a piece of Sweet Apple Acres there and she couldn’t say no). She named him Igneous as a homage to the late patriarch, even though this rooster is a lot more loud and boisterous than his namesake ever was. He technically belongs to the whole family, but aside from his parents, Mountain Peak is the one who enjoys interacting with him the most. He just needs to invest in some earplugs!

24. As if the universe didn’t hate Summer Beauty enough, it also made her allergic to literally every furry animal. Yes, even the hypoallergenic and hairless ones, it is possible. And she doesn’t particularly care for reptiles or fish so she hates that those are her only options if she doesn’t want to be sneezy or hopped up on allergy medicine all the time. Applejack (despite her own disappointment) tried giving Winona away to another branch of the Apple family when Summer was little and her allergies were first showing up. However, the filly was so utterly and despairingly beside herself that AJ realized Summer really would rather sacrifice her sinuses for her mental health. So Winona came back and now the family has another dog named Ryder, who Summer insists is “the only one around here who likes me anymore.” She loves him the most out of all her siblings and cries the hardest when he dies, and the allergies are only a small price to pay for his love.

[claraphotoblog-ardn632]

ARDN632_Clara_CichoskiKelly_Image Seeing

I created this image to represent humans' complicated relationship with the environment and their role in changing nature. At first glance, the overall picture may seem simple, a calm beach scene with a bird. This is designed to draw a person into the picture, as people can be drawn to lovely scenes of water and oceans. But off to the side, are signs that you could miss or even choose to ignore and just focus on the calm beach scene. In drawing the viewer into what seems like a beautiful simple image, I am appealing to emotion with the image being a metaphor for the way humans interact with their environment [1].

The beach scene is a representation of our environment. The image is bordered by land which has lush green trees. There are several other land masses further away in the image representing the future.  The land from the beach is close to the viewer in the image and represents the earth at this moment, something that is accessible, while the other land masses that represent the future are not easy to access, as the future is unknown.

The bird in the image is positioned on a small rock. It may appear at first that the bird is facing away and looking towards the future, however, a closer look shows that the bird is looking straight at the viewer. The goal of the bird was to make it hard to see it was manipulated, I used an object selection tool to drag it into the beach image. The bird represents hope and the ability of the human race to both witness the environment as well as the potential to take action. The bird is stationary because he has a choice, like the choice humans have, to protect and nurture the land.

The sign to the side of the image is a clue that not everything is calm and wonderful. I also used object selection to add the sign to the image. I used a spot-healing brush to remove grass from the signpost. The two signs have slightly different meanings. The sign in the foreground says “Impassible during high water” which is in contrast to the water in the image which is clearly not high. The viewer should question why this sign would be at this place.  The confusion is a purposeful placement to say that anything is possible, including what seems improbable.  The second sign located behind the first is to suggest the improbable it  reads “Flash flood area.”  A flash flood would not make sense in an ocean, and it should add to the confusion of the first sign.  The message is that nothing is as simple as it seems when it comes to nature, particularly the impact that humans have had on the land.  Both the bird and signs were added to challenge the viewer to what is real or not, a concept used by Erik Johansson [2].

The image is in color rather than black and white because the color is necessary to both represent contrast and to enhance how the viewer interacts with the image [3]. The ugly, sharp yellow signs stand out as a stark contrast from the beauty of the blue serene ocean, a small white bird perched upon a small stone, and the surrounding, almost perfectly cropped landscape. The clouds in the image are wispy and reinforce the calm. They are not storm clouds, adding to the confusion of the signs. This represents the tension between human impact on nature. The thought that humans bring chaos. My intent for this total image was to challenge the viewer in their thinking by using context and text to influence how the image is viewed [4].  Would the viewer choose to simply enjoy a serene beach and ocean view, ignoring the signs that so boldly are telling them to be warned and take action, even if there is no immediate evidence that action needs to be taken? Or would the viewer take in the total meaning, that the only way for the beauty of nature to survive is that we must look at the things that don’t make sense, and consider their impact, and if, like the bird we are brave, stare straight into the now to take immediate action.

Bibliography 

[1]  Post-truth was the word of the year for 2016. It is defined as: ‘relating to or denoting circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief.’ ‘Word of the Year 2016’, Oxford Languages, https://languages.oup.com/word-of-the-year/2016/. Quoted in Catlin Langford. “A Brief History of Photography and Truth,” International Festival of Photography, 01-24-March, https://photo.org.au/channel/a-brief-history-of-photography-and-truth-2/

[2]  Erik Johansson. “Surreal Photography,” Projects 2007-2024, https://www.erikjo.com/

[3] Jessica Stewart, ‘History Comes to Life Through Beautiful Colorized Photographs’, My Modern Met,  9 November 2018, https://mymodernmet.com/retronaut-dynamichrome-colorized-photo-book/. Quoted in Catlin Langford. “A Brief History of Photography and Truth,” International Festival of Photography, 01-24-March, https://photo.org.au/channel/a-brief-history-of-photography-and-truth-2/

[4] Gwinnett County Public Library, “How Photographs Can Tell Lies”, YouTube Video, April 14, 2021, 25:14, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yj0AhfAf_Fs&t=29s

[navyhyuck]

sweeter than honey — 0.9k words, lee jeno

warnings: pretty explicit drug usage (estascy), vampire!jeno, biker!jeno (eh kinda), suggestive, biting

a/n: i’m so sorry. i will simply pass away after i post this. many thanks to @lebrookestore for reading this and listening to my small but necessary vampire bite pleasure paragraph. please don’t do drugs, this is purely for the sake of the au.

Kisses are sweet.

You can savor them on the tip of your tongue each time a pair of lips press against yourself, the taste so lively under the pressures of pleasure and sin altogether. Some may describe them as sour, bitter, or even spicy. Sour—you presume—for the rush of immediate craving. Bitter, for the growing regret of trying. Spicy, for the ultimate final addiction. You, however, choose to drink them sweetly.

Black nights call for city lights; city lights lead to short velvet dresses or ripped stockings or deep jewelry draped over people deprived of their will. Pretty smiles pass by officials and quick hands dip into plastic bags. Giggles and sighs resonate in silence, if possible, yet kisses continue. Sweet kisses continue.

The dimmed lights around you allow your legs to spread wider in comfort, although the fear of being caught may increase, the boy beside you slips on a hand onto your thigh, and you relax. He whispers something into your ear, sliding closer and closer until his offers drip of seduction and you find yourself seeking more. It makes you want to give in—the promise of more—and you almost roll your head back over your shoulders, until you don’t.

Even with the darkness surrounding you, you witness flashes of blond hair that belong to an individual: one that pushes the other away with a small word. You manage to gather your senses, pulling your body closer to you, and look over at the stranger.

“What is your name?”

“Y/N,” you reply, almost too quietly to be heard. You catch a glimpse of a black choker, and a small curve of ink to skin. The person in front of you speaks, though you barely register it. “Who are you?”

“You may call me Jeno. May I kiss you?”

Your hand reaches out into space, only to be stopped by a rather calloused counterpart. Nodding, you continue to grasp until you halt. “Do you have anything? On you? Now?”

Although your mind spins in confusion and pleasure and want, you hear the other mumble a yes. It sets a fire inside of you, willing you to push closer in eagerness. You only stop when your knees no longer allow you to move forward, and careful hands land on your waist.

“Patience.” The voice is male, deep and silently demanding. “Will you allow a bite, sweetheart?”

The thought has you reeling in excitement, but you contain it to the best of your ability. You’ve managed to snag a vampire, an attractive one at that, one that asks politely. Gathering your legs together, you nod again.

“Good. Come outside with me. I have what you wish for.” A freezing hand softly slips into yours, guiding you to rise from the couch. You shiver. “Is that alright?”

“Yes.”

Your expectations of Jeno’s appearance are exceeded when you’re pulled away into the brightly lit parking lot; vampires, you hear, are the most attractive creatures of them all. With deep eyes to lure their prey and overpowering dominance of words, they can have it all. And Jeno’s eyes pour into yours when he finally looks at you. The color of the deep sea, with pupils blown to the maximum point.

“You may sit,” he gestures, and your eyes fall on a dark motorbike. You oblige, watching cautiously as the man dips his head to retrieve a small plastic bag. It makes you perk up. He opens the bag, pulling one singular product into his hand, watching you with devilish eyes you fail to realize. “Oh? Makes you excited, does it?”

It catches you by surprise when Jeno raises his hand to his mouth, dropping the content to his tongue. You watch as his eyebrows perk at your reaction. He approaches you—in caution once again—before he leans closer, resting a hand over your cheek. Fingers brush over your lips, parting them slowly. You seem to get the memo.

You curl your hands into the flimsy shirt that clings desperately to his body as the tip of your tongue pushes out easily, urging for acceptance. Jeno heaves his chest as he sees you plead with your eyes. He decides to give in.

Only a number of seconds after you’ve managed to catch your high, Jeno murmurs for consent to a kiss—to which you agree with no haste—and he doesn’t hold back. A strong hand keeps you steady when he moves his lips fiercely against yours, offering no time in between for breathers. You giggle in ecstasy as he digs his fingers into your waist, feeling the inability to stay in control.

An inhumane growl leaves him when you loll your head back, exposing your neck in happy sin. He pulls you closer, leaning down with no warning as you feel a soft kiss to a particularly sensitive area. It’s a sharp contrast from the sounds leaving him—the vampire—but you run your hands up his own neck, settling your fingers to thread through his long, blond hair. And with a short lick to your throat, you feel a drag of sharp fangs against you.

The pleasure you drown in is far too high for you to comprehend—not with your fingers tugging hard and your mouth running off with the sound of the vampire’s name over and over—it makes your head lose sight of all things real. You lose yourself in it all, unable to contain any longer.

It’s that moment you realize kisses aren’t only sweet. Sinking fangs draw ecstasy faster than any drug ever could. Sweeter than anything man-made.

kiss-and-tell masterlist

[lordoftermites]

OF CLOVER & IRON

Part One

Pairing: Roiben x Kaye

Summary: fluff(ish), angst, obligatory smut (later). fluffish smangst, let's go with that.

My first fic for these two—and all around the first one I've ever written, period. I finally got to a point that I can confidently post parts 1 & 2 without obsessive editing so yeet haw let's fuckin go. Set the day after Ironside Ch. 13. {there's a slight deviation of the wound placements also, because I just really wanted to see Kaye lovingly take care of her Emo Black Knight™. Everything else is canon-compliant. I hope.}

Rating: M for suggestive themes, smut in future chapters

Also I was listening to Beautiful Crime by Tamer and If You Care by Evan Barlow the whole time and if those aren't the most Roiben songs I've ever fucking heard—

*buzzfeed voice* let's get into it

________________

Each step I left behind Each road you know is mine Walking on a line ten stories high Say you'll still be by my side If I could take your hand, oh If you could understand That I can barely breathe, the air is thin I fear the fall and where we'll land

"You realize I have attendants for this, don't you?"

Roiben was reclined, rather awkwardly, against the mountain of plush pillows on his bed. Their down stuffing jutted through the timeworn fabric and pricked along the sensitive skin of his bare back.

While the gash Talathain's sword had wrought the day before had since been cleaned and bandaged, the end of those feathers still managed to find their way through to jab at the still-open wound, eliciting from him a wince, as though he needed reminding of the events that had transpired had, in fact, transpired.

Ruefully, Roiben found that he did not need reminding.

"Mhmm, I know." Kaye replied absently beside him, drawing him back to the present. She was perched on the edge of the bed, inky-black gaze fixed on his hand in her lap; she was gently applying a viscous paste to the scarlet, angry line along his palm—another gift from Silarial's green knight. The mixture had a cooling element to it, not at all unpleasant against the dull burn of the wound. Kaye was careful, dedicated as she worked. Her tender, feather-light touches sent an involuntary shiver down the base of Roiben's spine.

“I admit, I do not mislike having you for a nursemaid instead of an ill-tempered hob." He grinned down at her as she finished, gently wrapping a milky-white cloth around the pad of his hand, tying it off in a small knot at the base of his wrist. He didn’t think anyone in his service would have tended to him with such attentive care; actually, they very well may have relished an opportunity to see him wince. Indeed, he much preferred this.

She glanced up at him through thick lashes and gave him a small smile of her own, but it faltered on her features, wavered there until it faded into something Roiben couldn't name. "I guess,” she began, dropping her gaze back down to his newly-dressed hand in hers. “I just wanted to do… something, for a change." Roiben's brow knitted at the sadness in her voice, the way the guilt, thoroughly misplaced, steeped her words. There was a twinge in his chest that was reminiscent of the arrow she had pulled from it not four months prior. Automatically, his hand reached up to touch the new scar, a rose-tinted indentation in the middle of his sternum. A phantom ache bloomed under his fingers.

She had been only a human girl then, guised as she was, and unfortunate enough to be the one to find him bleeding out, collapsed there against the gnarled tree he would have gladly let become his grave. She had saved his very soul that night in the rain, though neither of them had known it at the time. It was very likely she still didn't.

And here she was again, nursing the consequences of his own obstinate pride and blaming herself for it. Too often, too willingly did she take the weight of his burdens as her own, while he futilely sought to keep her safe from them. Safe from him. She was the most stubbornly kind creature he had ever known; a knight of her own design—a savior he had never had any right to.

Roiben reached out to tuck a loose tendril of viridescent hair behind her ear. The slight movement pulled at the lesion on his back, threatening another wince. He resisted. "Kaye," he started, and when she didn't meet his eyes, he crooked a finger under her chin and canted her head to him.

"There is nothing you have done—not since the moment I met you to now, that was not something." His thumb ran over her emerald jawline, the smooth skin silk in contrast to the roughness of his own. Kaye's eyes fluttered and she leaned into his touch. "I know it is my failure, in not telling you as such, that you mistakenly think yourself so inadequate. For that, I am well and truly sorry."

Through the burning discomfort of his wounds, Roiben drew her down to him and captured her mouth in a kiss. He had never been a master of apologies— or much else for that matter. And for reasons he was unable to name, his way of begging Kaye's pardon seemed to often be sought with his mouth, as if he hoped she could taste it on his tongue— and forgive him with her own.

Her lips, softer than satin and more delectable than any wine he had ever tasted, parted in a soft, lilting sigh. The sound, as it so often did, caused the muscles in his lower abdomen to coil with a rush of warmth. His bandaged fingers moved to tangle in her wild hair as her tongue danced between his teeth, languorous at first, then quickly shifting into something nearer to frenzy. He could feel his pulse quicken, the familiar strain across the front of his trousers when her hand splayed his chest, soft fingertips pressing into his bare skin. His breath hitched.

And then Kaye's lips were gone and she was pushing herself back up, away from him, her breathing ragged. He watched her dazedly, lamenting the abrupt loss of her closeness. She combed a hand through her mess of green hair, and Roiben realized she was trembling. He frowned.

"What is it?" he asked, drawing himself up to a sitting position, jaw clenched against the sharp tug of the bandage stretching from his shoulder to his hip. "Have I done something to displease you?" He glanced down, sliver gaze settling on a fraying thread of gauze on his wrist. "Perhaps my apology wasn't quite the one you were looking for, but I—"

"That's not it." Kaye cut him off, and when he looked back up to meet her eyes, he was disconcerted to find their pitch depths were suddenly glistening. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kaye raised a hand to forestall him. He pressed his lips together, obediently falling mute. "It… it's not you. I mean, it's a little bit you. Okay— maybe it's a lot you. But… I'm just…" She let out a frustrated groan, as though she couldn't quite manage to untangle whatever thought she was trying to get out. The back of her hand swiped angrily across her eyes.

Roiben knew she hated crying, but he was unsure whether it was explicitly crying in front of him, or if it was the act altogether. Whatever the reason, there was a nagging in his gut, a temptation to reach up and wipe away the glittering tear that rolled down the curve of her verdant cheek.

But he stayed patiently, painfully silent beside her, fingers worrying the fabric over his knuckles instead as she worked through unweaving her mind. Roiben found himself suddenly wishing he had the power to read it, if only to help wrench her free of whatever trap that held her there, apart from him. Finally, she sighed—a dispirited sound that reverberated through the otherwise quiet stillness of his chambers.

"Why did you come back? Why did you find me at the diner? Why did you choose me?"

The string of questions— rather, the way she asked them, whispered, bordering on anguish, stung him like the gilded edge of Talathain's blade. Roiben gaped at her, for a moment too stunned to respond. Her expression was contorted slightly, the emotions that coursed through her scrambling over one another to find purchase on her face. Still, she held his gaze with an unwavering severity that bored into his very being and rooted him to the spot.

He knew she would not accept his usual indirect summarizations, those with which he so carefully guarded himself. He was now well beyond the safety of that delicate thread of tightroped truths he danced.

She expected—commanded his unreserved forthrightness, with that look that held the power of his name without it ever needing to cross her lips.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Crime Scene.”

WARNING: Relatively graphic depictions of a dead alien, and discussion about a horrific crime scene, so read at your own discretion.

This idea was taken from a suggestion by some of the readers and then adapted a little bit, so I hope you all like it. 

Rain drummed down in great sheets from above, falling like curtains from the uppermost spires of the city skyscrapers and lofty towers. Rain collected on open wires and came dripping down in trickling runnels of water, only to collect in great puddles on the pavement gurgling away into the gutter to vanish down storm drains.

Massive, colorful, neon signs hung above in the driving rain, casting reflection down onto the sodden pavement giving an eerie sort of light to the darkness. There were few people on the street at this time, though figures could be seen flitting from the shadow of one overhang to another. Despite their efforts, the soaking cold was nearly impossible to avoid.

As unoccupied as the street was, it gave more than enough room for a dark figure hurriedly splashing through puddles as his long leather coat whipped behind him, collar pulled up against the rain.

Massive television screens running with rivulets of water rose up on all sides boasting advertisements ranging from fur care to skin cream to casino resorts. The voices of these advertisements babbled through the rain, impossible to understand with a background of white noise.

The echoes rose upwards, following the trail of advertisement screens as they rose ever higher into the night, taking up every available surface until the very peaks of the skyscrapers high above in the rainy mist.

The darkly clad figure was joined a moment later as two other figures hurried from the shadows, one no more than two feet tall, and another that towered over the first figure by nearly a foot.

Little eruptions of water leapt up from where their feet splashed through the puddles.

A delicate silver halo outlined the figures as rain bounced off their bodies and back into the air.

With a motion of his hand, the first figure motioned his companions sideways, and into a long-dark alley. The stream of water that ran down it’s middle was nearly ankle deep, and the three figures made to avoid the worst of it, walking along the side of the alley, though sometimes they were made to choose between ankle deep water or refuse.

The rain grew harder, drumming down against their backs as they hurried across another cross street, down another alley and towards their final destination.

Foot  traffic had picked up now, though it happened to be as a direct result of the bright neon caution holograms blocking off an area of buildings just to the right of their alley.

A dark furred Tesraki, posted out under an umbrella-like energy field waved them through without bothering to check their ID.

The three of them stepped through the cation hologram and towards the shopfront passing under a curtain of water, and into the little shop beyond where they stopped.

They waited there for a few moments, until a figure appeared from the long line of shelves: A Tesraki wearing a large hat, with holes cut in it for the ears.

“Admiral, I’m glad you could make it.”

Admiral Vir shook water from his coat, and undid the belt that held the front together, allowing it to hang open. He then removed his hat, shaking it out beside the door.

To his right, Sunny shook runnels of water from her carapace, while Dr. Krill cleared droplets from his prismatic orange eyes.

Admiral Vir adjusted the collar of his shirt, absent of a tie, “We came as soon as we heard.” He said fitting the hat back onto his head. His face was slick with humidity, though the protruding brim of his hat had kept the worst of the rain from his face.

“We do appreciate it.” The Tesraki lifted a hand, “Follow me, but don’t touch anything.”

Admiral Vir held up his hands to show the mostly-dry leather gloves he wore, “Not a problem.”

The Tesraki nodded it’s head and led them further into the shop past lines and displays of cheap touristy trinkets likely manufactured for a quarter of the price on Noctopolis. Just to their right a refrigeration unit hummed. Peering past the glass Admiral Vir was surprised to see cans of human soda preserved behind the glass.

They passed through the side of the shop, and were stopped outside the opening to the back room, where another Tesraki insisted they put plastic covers over their shoes and feet.

Everyone was supplied with gloves, before they were allowed in.

Sunny flexed her hands against the strange rubber synthetic, though Dr. Krill seemed right at home.

Admiral Vir was the first to step through, passing into the dim back room to immediately be met by the sharp tang of blood. He paused as if he had hit a wall face screwing up in response to the smell. It wasn’t human blood, of course, it was Tesraki blood, a smell that had been all too common during the Drev war.

He blinked hard, allowing his eyes to adjust to the room, which was dark, mostly, except for the flickering holovision on the wall across. A couple of technicians were busy setting up flood lights on the side of the room. His vision was mostly obscured, by a large sofa just to his front, but slowly, and with direction from the Tesraki, he inched around the side until he was finally able to get a good view of the scene before him.

He crushed immediately and turned his head away fighting down a sudden and surprising bout of nausea, though it passed within moments.

He turned his head back inch by inch grimacing slightly as he did.

Rosy blue light from the holovision glittered down on the scene before him glittering lightly off a coagulating green pool that appeared almost black in this lighting. The figure was stiff and still having not been moved since it was found.

The dead Tesraki lay sprawled on its side in a pool of his own blood, an expression of fear and horror frozen on his face. Admiral Vir had to force himself to look closely at the body, which he could see was missing it’s tail, a leg, and one arm. Looking around he could find no sign of where the missing limbs might have gone.

“We’ve never seen anything like it before.” The Tesraki said, walking up to stand beside him.

Admiral Vir grimaced, “Never?”

“No, never, which is why we called you.”

He turned to look at the Tesraki, long leather coat brushing against his pants just above the knees, “Why? I’m no detective.”

The Tesraki nodded, “We know, but you have to understand, we have NEVER seen anything like this… not EVER.” He leaned into his emphasis, turning to look at the Admiral, “Tesraki don’t commit crimes like this. If we want someone dead, there are always traffic accidents and poisoning.”

Admiral Vir raised an eyebrow, “I wasn’t aware Tesraki were even capable of committing murder.”

“Not directly, no.” 

He paused staring at the body as the implication set in, “You don’t think a Tesraki did this.” 

Off to the side of the room, the technicians had managed to rig up the lights, and the room was suddenly filled by double beams of blinding white light illuminated the scene before them with sharp contrast. The black blood became green, the shadowy mound, which had been the body was suddenly brought into sharp relief, each hair visible in excruciating detail on it’s dismembered body.

“Sweet Jupiter.” He muttered 

His oversvation from before had been correct. The Tesraki was missing three of his five limbs. The blood pool in which he lay was a good four foot circle around him. The eyes were open and glassy, staring up into nothing. His face and lips were twisted into an expression of pure horror. Coagulated blood matted the fur along his back and sides. His remaining arm was covered in a line of deep and shallow defensive wounds while the fur about his chest was matted with green icor.

“What do you know so far?”

“Nothing much, we’ve been waiting for them to set up the lights.”

Admiral Vir motioned Dr. krill forward, “Think you can take a look?”

The doctor nodded his head, “I believe I can.”

At his announcement one of the Tesraki walked forward offering up a floating platform for the Dr. to stand on. He looked as if he was about to reject the offer, but took it, using it to keep off the floor around the crime scene as he floated closer to the body.

Admiral Vir rested his hands on his hips as he watched.

“Who is he?”

“His name was Inenor, the owner of the shop you came through on your way in. Admittedly he was no one of great renown, mostly profited in selling high priced and cheaply manufactured trinkets to tourists, a practice that might be frowned upon, but not one that generally gets you killed.”

“Or dismembered.” Admiral Vir added, reaching down a hand to rub absently as the junction where his stump met his prosthetic.

The Tesraki nodded, “Yes, by all rights he was your average shopkeeper in the tourist district. None of his wares are particularly expensive, he had no more enemies than his average shop rivals, no family, and, based on our cursory glance through his online history, no involvement in any other nefarious groups, plots, schemes or otherwise.”

“Shop rivals?”

“The other shopkeepers in the area selling the same thing.”

“And you don’t think it could be one of them.”

The Tesraki shook his head, “No, they may not like each other, but Tesraki business owners rely on competition to keep the economy working in each district. Prices fluctuate between shops creating a constant cycling of where the tourist goes for the least expensive or highest quality goods. It avoids stagnation, and allows for a dynamic environment where money is always trickling in. They may hate each other, but they understand how to work a balanced system between each other.”

Admiral Vir glanced over at Kril, who was busily scrutinizing one of the Tesraki’s stumps 

“So you think a human did this.”

The tesraki held up his hands, “I didn’t say that.”

“It’s alright. I can see where you are coming from.” again, he looked away from the body, “A nobody who works a shop in the tourist district on an alien planet is brutally murdered and then dismembered. There is not history of such a crime ever being committed by Tesraki in living memory. The Rundi couldn’t do it  as the water content in Tesraki blood could hurt them, not to mention they aren’t known to be tourists. We can rule out the Gromm, Celzex, Bran and Iotins for similar reasons.” He took a few steps forward, “Gibb and Vrul are completely off the table as they aren’t nearly strong enough or vicious enough to do something like that.”

The Tesraki was nodding in agreement.

“So you must have come to the conclusion that there are really only three options. Burg, Drev…. Or humans.” He walked around to the other side of the couch to get a better look at the missing tail. Though the stump was matted with congealing green and black blood, he could still see a small spike of bone protruding from the flesh, “And the Burg have been withdrawn from GA airspace since the burg war, and are only now starting to return, so it couldn't be one of them. That leaves Drev and humans. Drev have a history of dismembering their victims but…..”

Sunny stepped up beside him just then, resting a hand on his shoulder. He felt her squeeze lightly, though to everyone else it wouldn't have been noticeable.

“But generally they do not take the limbs with them.” She added before pointing to the body, “Those cuts are too clean. A drev would rely on power first cutting into the leg, breaking the bone and then ripping through. IT would be a much messier process.”

Admiral Vir nodded, allowing her hand to linger on his shoulder longer than was absolutely necessary before stepping away.

Dr krill leaned back from his work and looked over at them, “I tend to agree with Sunny’s oversaviton. These cuts were very clean, probably cone by a sharp knife or scalpel of some kind. The bone itself has been sawed through. Now whoever did this were no medical professionals as the cuts were half hazzard and mostly center on the middle of the bone.” He turned to look at them more intensely, “Besides, whoever came here came for his limbs specifically.”

There was a shocked pause.

“You mean.”

“I mean the Tesraki was dismembered postmortem. Cause of death was likely strangulation.”

Admiral Vir shook his head in disbelief, “You mean they came here…. Specifically for his limbs.”

 Krill nodded, “it would seem so.” He glanced over at the Tesraki, “Nothing else is missing.”

The Tesraki shook his head, “Credits are still there, and the manifest is showing that all his wares are here as well.”

“Why would someone take the limbs?” Sunny asked, incredulity coloring her voice as she stared down at the gory scene before them.

Krill sat up “How about the prodigum, they are known to feast on decaying flesh.”

Admiral vir shook his head, “No, if it was a prodigum they would have taken the whole body, not just the limbs, besides, they have connections with the slave trade and get most of their exotic feeding there. This entire thing doesn't make sense for them.”

“Does that mean, Admiral, that you are suggesting….”

“Suggesting that humans did it?” He finished, and the Tesraki nodded.

Admiral vir paused for a moment before sighing, “It would seem so as much as I hate to admit it. Humans are more than capable of doing something like this, and brutal murder is not somethng we are strangers to.” He walked around to the other side of the body again, holding onto the lapels of his jacket, which were now mostly dry, though he couldn't feel sure past the leather gloves he wore, “We have a brutal human-like murder on the edge of a major human tourist district. No cash or credits are missing, none of his wares (which don't seem worth thieving anyway)  and whoever they are they likely went after his limbs for…. Some reason.”

From the corner of her eye, Sunny saw a flash of guilt on the man’s face, and knew he was withholding something.

“How long ago did this happen.” He asked 

“Not more than a few hours.”

Admiral Vir tapped his foot on the floor, “Than they couldn’t have left planet just yet. It wasn’t a military installation as I know where all of those are located, and none of the fleet were here during the time of the murder. It would have to be a civilian.” He pulled up his sleeve to check his implant, “i will call in and order all civilian transport grounded. That should give us enough time to investigate if you find anything, don’t send any of your men in, but call me.”

The Tesraki nodded in agreement, “Thank you Admiral.”

“Let me step out to make the call.”

The Tesraki let him go, and he stepped out the door, pulling the now soggy plastic covers off his boots as he made his way to the front of the stoor. Sunny listened patiently as he called a halt to all civilian transports, smiling a little when he ordered the man to stop complaining and do as he was ordered by power of the combined UNSC and GA.

Eventually, he cut the call and turned to look at her.

She could tell by the pained expression on his face, that his original thought had only gotten worse.

“What are you thinking?” She mumbled softly, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening.

He paused before answering, “I think I know why they took his limbs.”

Sunny paused, “What! Why?”

The human grimaced, his face shot through with pain and shame, though that seemed odd as he hadn’t done anything.

“I think…. I…”

A horn blasted from outside making the two of them jump before it faded into the distance.

Admiral Vir hung his head, “I think they are going to….”

She put a hand on his shoulder, “spit it out.”

“Eat him!”

Sunny froze, and the two of the locked eyes, one horrified, the other ashamed.

“No….”

“Yes….”

[butterflies-dragons]

Loved your post on the similarities between Jon and Waymar Royce and Sansa's preference in men. I would like to add something else on the table. The Royces have Stark blood through the maternal line. Catelyn even suggested to name them as a possible heir to Robb. So Sansa really has a thing for the Stark look. This might be incestuous in nature. But isn't there a phrase that women tend to fall for men who remind them of their father? In Sansa's case it's more literal than usual lmao

Hello there! 

Thank you very much ♡

You know, when I was writing my meta, I was suggested by @lostlittlesatellites, to write about the Royces with Stark blood, but I decided not to bring the subject up because we don’t really know who they are.

I know about what Catelyn said to Robb regarding the Stark relatives in the Vale: 

“Young, and a king,” he said. “A king must have an heir. If I should die in my next battle, the kingdom must not die with me. By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her.” His mouth tightened. “To her, and her lord husband. Tyrion Lannister. I cannot allow that. I will not allow that. That dwarf must never have the north.”

“No,” Catelyn agreed. “You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son.” She considered a moment. “Your father’s father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest … it might have been a Templeton, but …”

“Mother.” There was a sharpness in Robb’s tone. “You forget. My father had four sons.”

She had not forgotten; she had not wanted to look at it, yet there it was. “A Snow is not a Stark.”

“Jon’s more a Stark than some lordlings from the Vale who have never so much as set eyes on Winterfell.”

“Jon is a brother of the Night’s Watch, sworn to take no wife and hold no lands. Those who take the black serve for life.”

“So do the knights of the Kingsguard. That did not stop the Lannisters from stripping the white cloaks from Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Boros Blount when they had no more use for them. If I send the Watch a hundred men in Jon’s place, I’ll wager they find some way to release him from his vows.”

He is set on this. Catelyn knew how stubborn her son could be. “A bastard cannot inherit.”

“Not unless he’s legitimized by a royal decree,” said Robb. “There is more precedent for that than for releasing a Sworn Brother from his oath.”

“Precedent,” she said bitterly. “Yes, Aegon the Fourth legitimized all his bastards on his deathbed. And how much pain, grief, war, and murder grew from that? I know you trust Jon. But can you trust his sons? Or their sons? The Blackfyre pretenders troubled the Targaryens for five generations, until Barristan the Bold slew the last of them on the Stepstones. If you make Jon legitimate, there is no way to turn him bastard again. Should he wed and breed, any sons you may have by Jeyne will never be safe.”

“Jon would never harm a son of mine.”

“No more than Theon Greyjoy would harm Bran or Rickon?”

Grey Wind leapt up atop King Tristifer’s crypt, his teeth bared. Robb’s own face was cold. “That is as cruel as it is unfair. Jon is no Theon.”

“So you pray. Have you considered your sisters? What of their rights? I agree that the north must not be permitted to pass to the Imp, but what of Arya? By law, she comes after Sansa … your own sister, trueborn …”

“… and dead. No one has seen or heard of Arya since they cut Father’s head off. Why do you lie to yourself? Arya’s gone, the same as Bran and Rickon, and they’ll kill Sansa too once the dwarf gets a child from her. Jon is the only brother that remains to me. Should I die without issue, I want him to succeed me as King in the North. I had hoped you would support my choice.”

“I cannot,” she said. “In all else, Robb. In everything. But not in this … this folly. Do not ask it.”

“I don’t have to. I’m the king.” Robb turned and walked off, Grey Wind bounding down from the tomb and loping after him.

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

This passage is very interesting because Robb said: By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her.  But since Sansa was married to Tyrion Lannister, Robb had to name another heir.

This is a contrast with Jon.  Stannis use the same argument to convince Jon to accept his offer to be Lord of Winterfell, he called Sansa “Lady Lannister”, but no matter what, Jon didn’t accept it.  

“But, instead of Tyrion, Willas or even Robert, who pursue Sansa’s claim over her, there is a man that has been offered Winterfell and choose her over it. Among all the high lords interested in becoming the Lord of Winterfell by marrying Sansa Stark, the bastard Jon Snow refused to despoil his sister Sansa of her rights, even if her claim is the one thing he has wanted as much as he had ever wanted anything.”

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon IV

Robb and Catelyn were both pushing to prevent Sansa and Jon to get Winterfell, and ironically enough, I think that Sansa and Jon will be the Starks that will retake Winterfell.

Now, about who may be the Royces with Stark blood...

“Your father’s father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest … it might have been a Templeton, but …”

This means: Ned Stark’s father Rickard had no siblings, but Rickard’s father  Edwyle, had a sister Jocelyn who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch, Benedict Royce.  

Jocelyn Stark and Benedict Royce had three daughters:

Daughter 1 married an Unknown Waynwood

Daughter 2 married an Unknown Corbray

Daughter 3 might have married an Unknown Templeton

See? we really don’t know who the Royces with Stark blood are. We don’t even know if they have the Stark features. We don’t even know if they are still alive… 

Also take note that Jocelyn Stark married a Royce from the junior branch, called House Royce of the Gates of the Moon.  While Waymar Royce was from House Royce of Runestone. 

So I addressed the subject only with this line:   

The resemblance between the Starks and the Royces [of Runestone] maybe has to be with both houses being descendants of the First Men.

Now back to House Royce of the Gates of the Moon.

At this point in the books, the known Royces of the cadet branch are: Nestor Royce and his children: Albar and Myranda.  Imagine Myranda having a claim to Winterfell, Alayne will hate it…

Also imagine Lyn Corbray having a claim to Winterfell, Alayne will hate it even more…

About the Templetons, we don’t even know for sure if the third daughter of Jocelyn Stark and Benedict Royce married into House Templeton…

Now, about the Waynwoods, this is exactly why @lostlittlesatellites​ suggested me to write about the Royces with Stark blood, because at this point at the Books, Alayne is very linked with the Waynwoods. And even Harrold Hardyn’s mother was a Waynwood! Imagine Harry the Heir having not only a claim to the Vale but also to Winterfell!  Alayne will like this scenario a bit more… This is unlikely,  but it was funny to think about it… 

Harry the Heir doesn’t have the Stark Look tho.  But his Waynwood cousins do. So they could be the descendants of Jocelyn Stark and Benedict Royce.  Let see:

In the first Alayne chapter of the Winds of Winter, Sansa meets the Waynwoods and Harry the Heir:

“Lady Myranda. Lady Alayne.” Anya Waynwood inclined her head to each of them in turn. “It is good of you to greet us. Allow me to present my grandson, Ser Roland Waynwood.” She nodded at the knight who had spoken. “And this is my youngest son, Ser Wallace Waynwood.  And of course my ward, Ser Harrold Hardyng.”

(…)

Ser Roland was the oldest of the three, though no more than five-and-twenty. He was taller and more muscular than Ser Wallace, but both were long-faced and lantern-jawed, with stringy brown hair and pinched noses.  Horsefaced and homely, Alayne thought.

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

Ser Roland Waynwood and Ser Wallace Waynwood have three features that match the Stark Look:

Both long-faced

Both horsefaced

Both have [stringy] brown hair 

Sansa/Alyane doesn’t find the Waynwoods attractive tho, not like she fancied Ser Waymar Royce. Maybe this have to be with their other features: lantern-jawed and pinched noses.

The lack of attraction to the Waynwoods was another reason why I didn’t bring this subject up in my meta.          

In contrast, the Waynwoods seems pretty attracted to Sansa/Alayne:

“Had we known such beauty awaited us at the Gates, we would have flown,” Ser Roland said. Though his words were addressed to Myranda Royce, he smiled at Alayne as he said them.

“To fly you would need wings,” Randa replied, “and there are some knights here who might have a thing to say concerning that.”

“I look forward to a spirited discussion.” Ser Roland swung down from his horse, turned to Alayne, and smiled. “I had heard that Lord Littlefinger’s daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief.”

“You wrong me, ser. I am no thief!”

Ser Roland placed his hand over his heart. “Then how do you explain this hole in my chest, from where you stole my heart?”

“He is only t-teasing you, my lady,” stammered Ser Wallace. “My n-n-nephew never had a h-h-heart.”

“The Waynwood wheel has a broken spoke, and we have my nuncle here.” Ser Roland gave Wallace a whap behind the ear. “Squires should be quiet when knights are speaking.”

Ser Wallace reddened.  “I am no more a s-squire, my lady. My n-nephew knows full well that I was k-k-kni-k-k-kni –“

“Dubbed?” Alayne suggested gently.

“Dubbed,” said Wallace Waynwood, gratefully.

Robb would be his age, if he were still alive, she could not help but think, but Robb died a king, and this is just a boy.

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

And about that phrase you mentioned: “women tend to fall for men who remind them of their father,” it is true that the Asoiaf Books have plenty of incestuous undertones with the Targaryens, Cersei and Jaime, Asha and Theon, Crater and his daughters, etc. But in the case of the Starks, GRRM uses the pseudo-incest trope. After all, Jon and Arya, that are lookalikes, were intended to be in love in the so called “original outline”.

We also have the issue of the First love’s Resemblance: Sansa fell wildly in love with Ser Waymar, and Jon fell in love with a wildling girl kissed by fire.

Waymar Royce looked like a Stark. Waymar Royce was Jon’s lookalike. And Jon is Ned lookalike:

Riding through the rainy night, Ned saw Jon Snow’s face in front of him, so like a younger version of his own. 

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard IX

More about it here.

And Jon’s first love was Ygritte, a redhead, with blue-grey eyes, and to make the Tully look even more evident, Ygritte called herself half a fish:

“Ygritte punched his arm. “You know nothing, Jon Snow. I’m half a fish, I’ll have you know.”

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

Sansa’s first crush having the Stark Look and Jon’s first lover having the Tully look, reminds me of Catelyn being first betrothed with Brandon Stark but marrying Eddard Stark instead.  Brandon, died like Waymar.  Ned said Jon’s is a younger version of himself.  Ned never imagined marrying Catelyn, he had a young infatuation with Ashara Dayne, but he never acted on his feelings for her, and she died.  Ned also killed Ashara’s brother Arthur.  

Sansa fell wildly in love with Waymar, but she won’t marry him, he died.  She will probably fall in love with Jon in a more mature and calmly way.  Jon Snow, after a non-con beginning, ended loving Ygritte, not a lady, that offered him a “comfort level of femininity”, but he won’t marry her, she died.  Jon will probably fell in love with Sansa, freely and willingly.    

Thanks for your message.

[lizardkingeliot]

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @phoenix-ascended thank you!!!! 💖

Okay SO. I’m gonna cheat a little bit here. The first nine I’m going to post are all going to be from the first nine chapters of time cast a spell on you (but you won’t forget me) but to be fair the chapters are so long they each might as well be a story all their own lmao. ANYWAY. Here we go. I’ll post the first paragraph from each I guess, in order of chapter number obvs:

1. Quentin shook out the tension in his hands. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t getting any easier. For days on end he’d been trying to perfect the illumination spell the rest of his fellow First Years had nailed in a matter of hours. But no matter how he tried, Quentin couldn’t seem to make anything more than a spark.

2. Quentin waited until Eliot was asleep to slip out of bed and hastily tug his clothes back on. The illuminated screen of his phone told him it was just past 12am. Clutching his shoes to his chest, he opened the door as quietly as he could manage and tip-toed out into the hall, all but running to his room and clicking the lock shut firmly behind him.

3. Dry-mouthed and groggy, Quentin woke in Eliot’s bed alone. He groaned, groping around for his phone to check the time for a long moment before remembering he’d left it in his room. Quentin rubbed at his eyes, rolling over and up to his feet, muscles he didn’t even know existed screaming as he went. He picked his bathrobe up from the floor and pulled it on, then tottered down the hall to empty his bladder and brush his teeth and gulp down frantic handfuls of water from the bathroom sink.

4. Tuesday morning was hell. Quentin woke just before eleven, empty as a husk. Filthy, all used up. His thighs sticking together where Eliot’s come had dried there in the night. Quickly realizing he’d already missed his first class of the day, Quentin pressed his face into his pillow, pulled the covers up over his head, and surrendered to the blank comfort of late morning sleep.

5. Quentin couldn’t feel his face, or much of his body for that matter. Which was… fine. It was great. It was fucking phenomenal. As long as it meant he also couldn’t feel the sinkhole that had formed in the center of his chest. The one that had been there for days, weeks, months, fucking years. He couldn’t feel anything at all.

6. Quentin felt a lever turn inside his chest, the source of his magic eking out a spark. Enough at least to send a message to Julia back at Brakebills. One of those little enchanted paper airplanes they’d learned his first week in Practical Applications that he never could get to fly quite right. He scrawled his SOS on a cocktail napkin and watched it flutter away like the world’s saddest butterfly. The universe took pity on him. Quentin figured he was probably due. 7. Christmas morning was a lackluster affair.

Exchanging gift cards over coffee and devouring great mounds of Ted Coldwater’s Famous Ham and Eggs while still in their pajamas. After, Julia and Quentin lay on the living room floor and Skyped with James, his grandparents waving hello from Pennsylvania in the background. They opened the stack of impersonal and overly-extravagant gifts from Julia’s mother that had been delivered to the house the night before. Quentin received a pair of cashmere socks and a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle.

8. Quentin stood at the bathroom sink, watching his face shift in the steamy mirror glass. Stark naked save for the towel looped around his hips. Hair dripping in cool, fat beads down onto the planks of his shoulders. So clean he swore he could feel himself sparkling from the inside out.

9. Quentin tossed his phone down onto the floor and leaned back into Eliot’s heat. “It’s almost like you want my dad to know I’m faking sick so I can stay in and let you fuck me until I pass out.”

Some patterns I guess: I love how chapters 2-4 all open with Quentin in bed after hooking up with eliot but all with very different vibes. In chapter 2, he’s just experienced subspace for the first time without having any idea that’s what actually happened to him and he is having A Time. In chapter 3, they had a very intense hook-up the night before and Quentin is sneaking out again, but this time he fully plans on returning right after. And in chapter 4, we see the joy of their beginnings at Columbia contrasted hard with the misery of where Quentin is at Brakebills.

ALSO 2/3 of the chapters begin with Quentin’s name which feels right considering just how deep into his headspace we are in this fic.

Okay. Anyway. Moving on:

10. Eliot loved watching Quentin lose himself in a moment.

It could be anything really: mastering a brand new spell; savoring something decadent and sweet; fussing with his hair when he thought no one was looking; focusing very hard on making himself a cocktail and getting the ratios just right; ranting about his Fillory books; reading his Fillory books, to himself but especially aloud; reading anything; riding dick...

That last one held a particularly special place in Eliot’s heart.

(from but i would die for you in secret aka the one where eliot is pretty sure quentin is only using him for his dick. spoiler alert: he’s not they’re just idiots)

11. Teddy was turning six years old. There was nothing in the world he loved more than stories.

His favorite was a version of Lord of the Rings Quentin had cobbled together from memory. He must have told it to their son a hundred times before it occurred to Eliot he could contribute more to story time than ogling Quentin’s hands while he spoke, or popping in to suggest when the Balrog should actually be making an appearance, Quentin.

(from in a land far away aka the mosaic fic where eliot makes margo hand puppets for teddy)

12. The words came out of Quentin’s mouth without a single coherent thought behind them.

“I’m just about to catch a movie with my boyfriend!”

There, outside the coffee shop on Eighth Avenue, Quentin’s maybe-friend from high school whose name he couldn’t even remember shot him a wide-mouthed grin. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” she said. “Which movie? My wife Danielle and I don’t have any plans for the afternoon and we’d love to tag along. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

(from your name like a song (i sing to myself) aka the one where quentin’s memory is shit and he and eliot pretend to be boyfriends in a post-monster world)

13. Eliot dropped the last box onto the floor. “Daddy’s wardrobe is safe at last,” he said, lowering himself down into the gold chair with a sigh. “Though I can’t seem to shake the terrible feeling that Todd raided my closet at the Cottage before I could get to it all.”

Quentin surveyed the damage from his spot on the sofa: there were at least seven large packing boxes bursting at their seams scattered around the penthouse. “I don’t know how you would even be able to tell. I’m pretty sure one of those boxes is just vests.”

Eliot quirked a brow in his direction. “Some of us are cultivating an aesthetic, Quentin,” he said. “And I didn’t see you complaining when I let you dress me for dinner last night.”

Quentin couldn’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t call picking between two pre-approved ties dressing you, El.”

“I’m also counting the fact that you said my ass looked great in my new pants.”

(from the parentheses (all clicking shut behind you) aka the suspender porn fic)

14. The night Quentin Coldwater died, a brand new star appeared in the sky over Brakebills. A little brighter than Venus, it stayed fixed in the same position for weeks on end. Eliot hardly would have noticed such a thing if it hadn’t been for the way that it hummed. Or at least, that’s how it felt. A humming in his bones. An old, familiar presence. Margo thought that he’d gone mad with grief. Alice was the only one who could understand.

(from a myth of devotion aka the one where eliot is sorta icarus and quentin is sorta the sun)

15. It didn’t happen the way Eliot expected it to. He dropped the letter into the mailbox, and pain blossomed in his abdomen so brightly it was like he’d gone supernova.

And everything went dark.

(from by night, beloved, tie your heart to mine aka the one where eliot sends the letter)

16. Eliot stretched out over the mosaic, his shirt riding up just a little as he clicked a yellow tile into place, and Quentin’s pulse leapt in his neck once, twice. Three times. His breath hitched. It was becoming nearly impossible to focus. In the heat of the sun, watching the sweat soak Eliot’s shirt clean-through.

(from i won’t deny (all the things i would do) aka the one where quentin and eliot start hooking up three months into their life at the mosaic)

17. After they decided kissing on the mouth was okay, Quentin and Eliot wanted to do it all the time. In every corner of the penthouse (“If you don’t stop sucking face while I’m trying to eat my sandwich,” Kady said one afternoon, “I’m literally going to feed you to the Baba Yaga.”), outside coffee shops, in between bites at the sushi place in Chelsea that Eliot loved. Once, they went to see a movie they couldn’t even remember the name of just to make out for two blissful, uninterrupted hours in the dark.

(from and a song of praise upon your lips aka part three of the box of chocolates series where quentin and eliot are definitely dating and finally talk about their feelings)

18. Eliot startled awake to something sharp and pointed slamming into his shin. He opened his eyes, and the toe of Margo’s shoe made contact one last time. Pain seared up the side of his leg, and he winced. Jesus, she really did not realize her own strength sometimes. Or the strength of her Jimmy Choo’s.

(from that you may know (the secrets of your heart) aka part two of box of chocolates aka the one where hand stuff is still banging)

19. Eliot Waugh was High King in his blood, and somehow that felt right. When they first arrived in Fillory, Quentin assumed he would be the one to wear the crown. He’d dreamed of it most of his life after all. On the throne in Whitespire, a fleet of talking animals at his disposal, a noble quest waiting around every corner to ferry him away to the next grand, heart-stopping adventure. But when the blade bit into his palm and drew no blood, and Eliot’s came up red, it felt like the final piece of some perfect puzzle clicking into place.

(from and this is the map of my heart aka the one where quentin wants to marry eliot and they have some incredibly filthy sex before everything falls apart)

20. Eliot walked into the penthouse to an eerie quiet. He found Quentin sitting in the kitchen under a dim illumination spell, drinking a beer and poking at the screen of his phone.

“Hey,” Eliot said, setting his shopping bag down on the counter. “Where is everyone?”

Quentin sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Out. I don’t know.”

Eliot squinted at him. “You didn’t want to go with them?”

Quentin lifted his eyes, shot Eliot a look. “No.”

(from for love (if it finds you worthy) aka part one of the box of chocolates series)

And I have now been here doing this for so long I no longer have time to try and find anymore patterns lmao BUT I will be tagging: @thelucindac @akisazame @fishfingersandscarves @nellie-elizabeth @freneticfloetry @rubickk7 and anyone else who wants to play!

[mybhagyashree]

A brief description of NFTs.

What Are Non-Fungible Tokens (NFT)?

A digital asset representing real-world objects such as art, music, in-game products, and videos is known as NFT art and is sold or brought from an NFT marketplace. They’re bought and sold online, sometimes with bitcoin, and they’re usually encoded with the same program as many other cryptos.

Although they’ve been around since 2014, NFT tokens are gaining popularity as a more common way to buy and sell digital art.

This is in sharp contrast to the vast majority of digital creations, almost always available in unlimited quantities. If a given commodity is in demand, cutting off the supply could theoretically increase its value.

At least in these early days, some of the NFT token designs are based on digital creations that already exist in some form in other places, such as classic video snippets from NBA games or securitized versions of digital art that is already floating around on Instagram. When a buyer purchases an NFT token, they are able to keep the original object, as well as benefit from built-in authentication and ownership proof. Those “digital bragging rights” are highly valuables.

Difference Between an NFT and Cryptocurrency

The term “non-fungible token” means a token that is not fungible. It’s usually programmed in the same way as Currency cryptos like Bitcoin or Ethereum, but that’s where the similarities end.

In other words, physical money and cryptocurrency can be swapped or exchanged for one another. And they both have the same value; a dollar and a bitcoin are worth the same amount. In addition, cryptocurrency transactions are safe because of their fungibility.

Unlike other materials, NFT has not been priced the same way as others. A digital signature identifies each NFT and its value, which prohibits them from being replaced for or compared (hence, non-fungible). It’s not the same every day just because they’re both NFTs. (Also, one NBA Top Shot clip isn’t always the same as another.)

Increasing creators’ earnings

The most popular application of NFT arts today is in the field of digital material. This is because the market is now in a state of disarray. Platforms are sapping content creators’ sales and earning opportunities.

An artist who posts work on a social media website generates revenue for the platform, which sells advertisements to the artist’s followers. In exchange, they gain publicity, but exposure does not pay the bills.

NFTs fuel a modern creator economy in which creators retain control of their work rather than handing it over to the networks that promote it. Ownership is ingrained in the materials.

When they sell their work, the money goes straight to them. If the new owner sells away the NFT, the original developer will be entitled to royalties. The creator’s address is also an essential part of the token’s metadata and can’t be changed, so this is guaranteed every time it’s sold.

Increasing the gaming opportunity

Game developers exhibited an immense interest in NFTs. NFTs can be used to keep track of who owns what in-game, fuel in-game economies, and provide a variety of other benefits to players.

In several classic games, you can purchase things to use in the game. If the item was an NFT art, you have the right to recoup your investment by selling it once the game is over. If the item becomes more valuable, you might even make a profit.

Whenever an item is resold on the open market, game makers could receive a royalty as NFT token holders. Dadurch arises an economic model in which both players and developers earn from the secondary NFT market, one that is mutually beneficial.

This also ensures that even though the developers stop supporting a game, the things you’ve earned remain yours.

In the end, the in-game items you grind for will outlast the games themselves. Your things will still be under your influence, even if a game is no longer maintained. As a result, in-game objects become digital memorabilia with a meaning beyond the game.

Decentraland, a virtual reality game, also allows you to purchase NFTs that reflect virtual land parcels that you can use however you want.

NFTS and their working

NFTs are part of the Ethereum blockchain and provide some added details. The critical part is the extra material, which enables them to be represented as art, video, music, etc., in the form of JPGs, MP3s, images, GIFs, and other formats. They can be purchased and sold like other art forms because they have value – and, like physical art, their value is primarily determined by market and demand.

That isn’t to suggest that only one digital edition of an NFT art is available for purchase on the internet. As with art prints of an original, copies of an NFT are still valid sections of the blockchain, but they may not have the same value as the original.

Don’t assume that by right-clicking and saving a picture of an NFT, you’ve hacked the machine. You will still won’t be a millionaire as your download file doesn’t include all the details. Does that make sense?

What Is the Aim of NFTs?

Artists have a one-of-a-kind ability to monetize their work thanks to blockchain technology and NFTs. Artists do not have to sell their work through auction houses. Instead, they can market it as an NFT directly to the buyer, allowing them to get a maximum portion of the profit. Additionally, artists can program royalties into their software to earn a percentage of revenue when their work is sold to a new owner. This is a desirable aspect since most artists do not earn future proceeds until their first sale.

Making money with NFT worth isn’t limited to art. Snoop Dogg and Lindsay Lohan are among the celebrities who have jumped on the NFT bandwagon, revealing exclusive memories, artwork, and moments as securitized NFTs.

How to Purchase NFTs

If you’re interested in starting your own NFT set, you’ll need the following items:

To start with, you will need a digital wallet that can hold both NFTs and cryptocurrencies. Depending on what currencies your NFT provider supports, you will probably need buying some cryptocurrency, like Ether. After that, you may transfer it from the exchange to your preferred wallet.

When researching your options, keep fees in mind. When you buy crypto, most exchanges charge at least a percentage of the transaction.

Should You Invest in NFTs?

Investing in NFTs is essentially a personal decision. However, remember that an NFT’s worth is determined mainly by what someone else pays for it. As a result, rather than fundamental, technological, or economic indicators, which usually influence stock prices and, at the very least, form the basis for investor demand, demand will drive the price.

Capital gains taxes apply to NFTs, just as they do to securities sold for a profit. However, since they are considered collectibles, they may not be eligible for the same preferential long-term capital gains rates as stocks. They may even be taxed at a higher collectibles tax rate. Still, the IRS has yet to decide what NFT arts are considered for tax purposes. Keep in mind that the cryptocurrencies you used to buy the NFT may be subject to taxation if their value has risen since you purchased them, so consult a tax professional before adding NFT worth to your portfolio.

Also read: A brief description of DeFi

For currency crypto best investment deals visit at- Telegram

For further information, visit at  Instagram and Facebook

[bts-storys]

Vampire Boy

Author: bts-storys

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

Rating: 15+

Genre: Strangers to lovers/ Nightclub AU /Oneshot

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,511

Summary: You spot a stranger at a nightclub who instantly catches your attention.

A/N: Hey there, this is my first post and I will probably change my writing perspective in the next fic. Hope you like it nonetheless.

He stood there, right in front of the club.

His black hair as dark as the night, but shining in every color because of the dancing lights. As soon as she looked at him, she knew she was a goner. His tall figure casually leaned against the wall as if there wasn't -10 degrees outside. He was wearing only black. Black pants, a black shirt under a black vest and black leather shoes. His silver earring was blinking in her direction like an invitation. She was freezing in the entrance line waiting to get in, getting more impatient by the second. He turned around, leaving to climb down the stairs to get inside again. She knew she should have been more observant as the people in front of her grew fewer, but she could only stare in the darkness behind him. 

 Finally, it was her turn to get in, her friends being impatient as well but for different reasons. When they got down the stairs, meeting the hot air, people were standing everywhere. Dancing, drinking, talking, having a night to remember. The chances of seeing who she had secretly named 'Vampire boy' were getting tiny. After putting away their jackets, she and her friends headed towards the bar, when her breath hitched. There he was. 

Talking to one of his friends while waiting for his drink. It was even more thrilling to look at him from nearby. His lips were in a deep tone of red while his eyes were as dark as his hair and his skin as white as hers. She couldn't look away, even if she had wanted to, when he turned his head looking her straight in the eye. A small smirk appeared on his lips like he knew exactly that she had been staring the whole time. Embarrassment flooded through her body making her look away, blushing. One of her friends suggested to get some drinks and everyone agreed. 

 She was standing behind them, waiting to get what she ordered, when she felt someone bump against her, making her loose balance. The floor was getting dangerously close until a pair of hands grabbed her waist, keeping her from falling. Her back was pressed against someone's chest and while taking a surprised gasp she instantly knew whose it was. He smelled like midnight and cherries and it made her head spin even more. 

 "Are you okay?", a deep voice asked right next to her ear. 

She turned around and his hands left her waist, keeping her left arm instead, as to make sure she wouldn't lose her balance again. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you." she said breathlessly, her face right in front of his. 

"Maybe you could come with me. We have a lounge upstairs. It's less dangerous than getting run over down here." 

He was being nice and kind of funny, but she could hear in his voice that this was so much more than a simple invitation. She was truly paralyzed by the way he looked at her until she saw the question in his face. 

Turning around, her friends were already looking at her, throwing smiles and thumbs ups. The next moment he took her hand, guiding her through the people and up the stairs. His movements were soft but strong, he never once had to stop his steps and the way his hand wrapped around hers felt just safe. 

 Upstairs she found herself in front of a big chilling area with sofas and tables. The music from the dancing area was still loud and present, because there was no window in between, but there weren't as many people. She could tell he was heading to a side table further away where some of his friends and another girl were already waiting. All of them had dark, black hair and the girl looked really beautiful with her painted eyes and tinted lips. 

She knew she wouldn't fit in. 

Her eyes had too much contrast and her hair was too bright, something even her black dress and black tights couldn't change. But when he positioned her between himself and the other girl, someone handed her a drink and she forgot the thoughts she had before. The liquid had a reddish brown color and tasted bitter at first but then some kind of sweetness was pushing through. 

It was just the kind of taste she imagined his lips to be and when she looked at him, he was already staring at hers. She put a strain of loose hair behind her ear, shyly looking away because of the intensity of the moment. She felt his hand under her chin turning it back his way. 

 "Don't look away." 

 Even though he was almost whispering she could understand every word clearly. 

 "What's your name beautiful?" 

"I'm not gonna tell you. But I'll go with ‘beautiful’ instead, vampire boy”, she said with a smile spread across her face. 

At first, he seemed a little taken aback from her reaction but then he was smiling too, playing along with her little game. 

"Give me your phone." 

She gave it to him and he was typing for a long time while she was taking another sip from her drink. She felt a small hand on her shoulder and turned around just to see the girl next to her smiling welcomingly. 

"Do you want another one of that?", the girl asked pointing to the almost empty drink. 

Agreeing she let her pour in some more liquid from one of the bottles on the table. 

"This is one of my favorite drinks, do you like it?", the girl asked while pouring in something else. 

"Yes!", she said. "It tastes really good, almost like there wasn't any alcohol in it." 

"Those are the worst ones", the girl said with a little wink, handing her the finished drink. 

"Cheers!" 

After taking a sip she felt his hand on her leg. He was handing her the phone back, capturing her eyes with his again. Her chest felt tight and for one moment she forgot how to breathe. His features were sharp but soft, just where they should be and his eyes were looking at her seriously but also playfully. 

"Do you wanna dance?" 

She nodded as soon as the words left his lips, standing up just as quickly. Leading the way, she took him away from the sitting area to the front, where they had a fantastic view over the whole club. She couldn't make out her friends down there but they would surely be dancing right now. She could feel his breath on her neck and in her hair as she started moving slowly to the beat. Then his hands were on her hips, going with her dancing and bringing her closer to him at the same time. 

He was now looking at her from above and that's what made her feel like the queen of the whole club. Dancing on her own stage with only him as her viewer. It felt like there was nobody else in the room, only them and the music. When she felt his lips on her ear she took a sharp inhale. 

"You look so beautiful." 

Growing more confident she leaned back, still moving, but letting her hands find their way down his neck. He let out a low growl. 

"You okay, vampire boy?", she asked teasingly. 

"Why 'vampire boy'?". His breath was brushing down her neck again and she felt her belly get hot. 

"Can't you tell? Because you look like you're gonna be the death of me." 

Now he was smiling into her hair. "Come on beautiful, let's go back. I wanna introduce you to my friends." 

"I'll catch up on you in a few minutes", she said, heading for the bathroom.

Even though the club was boiling hot, her body felt cold without him. Looking into the mirror she exhaled briefly. Her cheeks were a little pink but her hair was still in place and her eyeshadow wasn't smeared. 

"Excuse me, may I use that too?", she asked the girl next to her who was redoing her lipstick. Without a word the girl gave it to her. It was a deep red color making her lips stand out of her pale face even more. 

On her way back, she headed up the stairs again, just to get stopped by a tall boy. "Hey do you want a drink? What's your name?", he said conversationally while trying to guide her to the bar with his hand on her back. 

"Hands off." 

A deep voice suddenly spoke up behind them, forcing the boy to turn around. Vampire boy grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the bar into his embrace. 

"I said hands off." 

The boy first looked like he wanted to resist but then just shrugged. "No problem man, didn't want to take something from you", he said leaving without a second glance. 

Vampire boy took her back to his lounge again but didn't let her sit down. Instead he placed her on his lap as to make sure no one would touch her again. His hands rested casually on her thighs, while hers began sweating because of his soft touch. Her body stiffened trying not to show any kind of reaction but he noticed anyway. 

"You okay, beautiful?", he used her own words against her. 

She could just nod, which made him laugh. The vibration of his laughter went through her body and she had to control herself even more. 

"Let me introduce my friends to you.", he said right next to her ear. "The boy on the left side is called Jimin. He looks cute and doesn't speak much, but he always gets what he wants. Be careful around him." 

The boy he was talking about had pink lips and his cheeks looked a little chubbier than the rest of his face. He looked younger than everyone else but maybe she was just thinking that because of his appearance. 

"The boy next to him is his older brother Namjoon. Their parents are both lawyers. The girl is called Nadja. She's his girlfriend and the only girl he ever talks to so don't blame yourself if he won't answer to any of your questions." 

All of them wore expensive clothes and watches but she could tell the brothers looked just a little richer than everyone else. Except for vampire boy. 

 Just when she looked at the older brother his gaze was wandering through the room, not even stopping at the sight of her. She gulped one time, looking away as fast as possible. Vampire boy was explaining to her who everyone else was, but she found it hard to focus, as he had started to rub circles with his thumb on her right thigh. After some time Nadja and the brothers went off for some dancing which she hardly noticed because she had to focus on breathing regularly. 

"Are you listening beautiful?", his low voice pulled her out of her trance, his thumb stopping its movements. 

"Hm?" 

"I said everyone's gone, there's enough space for you to sit next to me", he repeated himself with a smile. 

There had been enough place before but she didn't say something. Smirking she turned her head. 

"What if I want to keep sitting right here?" 

Instead of moving next to him she turned around on his lap, straddling him. Suddenly his face was only inches away from hers and she felt her heart beating faster in her chest. He was so beautiful and she didn't know where to look at. His gaze was on her lips the whole time, but when she tried to push herself further away, he looked into her eyes, holding her in place with his hands on her hips. 

"Don't. Stay." 

His fingers brushed over her cheek, fiddling with a strain of her hair, running down the side of her neck. She leaned into his touch, her body warming up again. Her hands were resting on his chest and she could feel his muscles underneath the material. Her fingers played with the edges of his vest while his were stroking down the sides of her body. When they came to the one sensitive spot right below her breasts a small sigh escaped her lips. She could smell his perfume, wanted to drown in it, but most importantly she wanted to know if his lips were as soft as they looked like. 

Her hands were now touching the skin right above his collar. His chest was raising fast and he looked even more dark than before, while she was almost glowing under his touch. The tingling in her belly felt like a thousand stars rushing through her veins. His hot breath smelled like Alcohol and mixed with his heavy perfume, it made her head spin. The tension between them was almost touchable. 

Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore his lips crushed with hers. They felt soft and smooth even though the kiss itself was nothing near it. His hands were all over her, brushing, stroking, gripping, while she pulled some strands of his hair, scratching his neck with her nails. He grabbed her hips pulling them even closer, grinding against her. He bit down on her bottom lip giving his tongue access to her mouth. The kiss grew sloppier turning into a heated make-out session. His low growls mixed with her faint moans, letting both of them forget everything around. 

He tasted even better than she had imagined. His lips were sweet but at the same time his breath was sharp and addicting. The lack of oxygen made her feel dizzy but she couldn't get enough until he pulled away slowly. Both of them were breathing heavily like they just came back from a run. Her cheeks were flushed and his eyes had a dark glimmer in them. 

"Let's go for another dance, beautiful", he whispered, pulling her up with him.

 On the way downstairs, her legs were trembling and only his hand kept her from falling down. Dancing with him was even more overwhelming than before. With their bodies pressed against each other he made sure no one would touch her except for him. Every part of him was electrifying and she could never get enough of it. 

When her friends came searching for her after what felt like an eternity, he pulled her into a long, deep kiss before turning around without glancing back.

 On the train back she couldn't focus on what her friends would tell her. Their words were only hushed noises in the background, all she could think about was him. Her phone buzzed pushing her out of her dreams back to reality. 

On the display it said "Vampire boy" which made her heartbeat increase within one second. The message included only an address of another club and the words 

Friday night. 11 o'clock. Be there. 

A smile sneaked onto her lips. There was no need for an answer. 

She would be there and he knew.

© Bts-Storys, 2021. Do not copy or repost without permission.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it!