#us cracks who ? ha/ot !

[gloryride]

HA/OT FOREVER ♥

Photoshoot session for @bnbc Kou and Vanessa ♥♥ Best crop by the amazing @wingdeer !

[ruairy]

.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

fun things to inflict on a pilot who bases his value on how useful he is to others:

temporary blindness >:3c

141 accidentally pierce an old mustard gas canister during an operation. Nik takes the brunt.

cw: injury, temporary blindness, distressed character.

Price paced up and down the base hospital ward wringing his hands as he waited for news, his heart in his throat. The mission had gone south so bloody quickly, and no matter how many times he retraced their steps, Price couldn't pinpoint the exact action that had caused such a monumental fuck up.

Old world war one bunker. Old old. The perfect place for a terrorist cell to store chemical weapons, or at least a lead to them. They had jumped early that morning with Nik because it was in east Germany and he had the knowledge they needed to break through the security systems. The USSR had used it as a base of operations during the Cold War, so without Nik, getting in would have been like chipping away at granite with a toothpick.

They got in. They secured the intelligence - no bloody weapons though - and were on their way out. A small detachment of enemy combatants had infiltrated through a different entrance that hadn't been recorded on the schematics they were working from. There had been an exchange of fire. A stray bullet caught a canister and...

Nik ignored the most fundamental rule of chemical warfare. You sort your own fucking mask first. But no, the stupid wanker grabbed for Gaz's first, because he was closest to the explosion and had only a split second to react.

Nik had been too slow with his own as a result.

Holding Nik in the casevac had been one of the most difficult experiences of Price's life. The skin lesions across his face had been like second degree burns, his eyes swollen shut, streaming. Anywhere there was moisture, the old gas had attacked. Despite the wounds, Price had seen the terror on his face as he tried to wrench the damp gauze off. He couldn't see.

"John, ya nye mogu videt! John... gdye ty? Gdye ty!" His usually calm, sombre voice, with its laid back drawl, broken and cracked in desperation.

In the end, Price had taken the decision to sedate him in the heli, one of those big hands clenched in his to keep him anchored as the drugs brought his heart rate under control and soothed his panic. He had lashed out at Gaz blindly - "otyebis ot menya!" - but between them they had managed to get the sedative into his thigh.

There were other wounds; bumps, scrapes, but none as serious.

"Sir, I'm sorry," Gaz had rasped, chucking the needle back into the bag. "This is my fault."

"No," Price had shaken his head. "Not your burden to carry. G'won, go eat somethin'."

The door at the end of the hall opened and the doctor summoned him with a flick of the head. "Well?" Price demanded, ignoring the pursed lipped irritation he got in return.

"It's temporary," the doctor said, his arms folding. "The gas was old, degraded. Still potent enough to cause damage, but with the right treatment, he'll get his eyesight back."

"How long?"

"Difficult to say. Four to six weeks for the skin lesions to heal. His body will decide on the rest... uh, captain," the doctor reached out a hand as Price tried to walk past, "there is a risk of long-term dyspnea, respiratory problems, awful stuff mustard gas, it attacks the central nervous system too, it can cause changes in mentation, and I understand from his file that he has a medical history of--"

"--I know what's in the file."

"We may be looking at more damage here than just his eyes. But only time will tell."

When Price stepped through the door, Nik startled, looking in his direction even though the heavy bandages over his eyes prevented him from seeing. Price spoke softly as he closed the door at his back. "S'just me, Nik. Easy."

Price nodded tightly, walked by and shouldered his way into the next ward. He found Nik's room but hesitated outside. Nik was awake. He was trying to grope around the table in front of him, searching.

"Captain, it is... well, I would say good to see you but..." He gestured vaguely at his head, his wry smirk shaky, and then that hand returned to patting around the table.

"Did they explain everything? Did you..." ...understand. Fuck, Price didn't understand half of the medical jargon, so he wouldn't be surprised if Nik struggled in his fourth language to parse what they were saying. Fourth out of eight. Asking felt like an insult to Nik's intelligence. The doctor's comment about mentation lodged in Price's throat like a shard of glass.

"Da. It will heal but there may be some future complications, I..." Nik suddenly slammed his fist against the table, anger twisting his mouth into a snarl, "..blyat, where is my phone? I need.." Nik's voice cracked and his chin tilted down with the shame of it, trailing off into miserable silence.

Price reached for him and tried not to let the resulting flinch shred his heart. Once Nik realised it was Price's hands and not whatever phantom his mind has conjured, he relaxed. Price sat down on the edge of the bed. "You don't need t' do anythin' but heal. We've got yer covered."

The way Nik's jaw twitched, teeth clenching at the back, his shoulders rising a little towards his ears; Price could see the clawing discomfort without needing to see his expression.

"You're gonna have to trust us, Nik. I need yer to trust me."

"I do," Nik croaked. "It is... This is not your burden to carry."

"Even if you weren't who you are, you still got injured in one of my operations."

"I let you down. And now I am useless." Nik's other hand clenched into a fist at his side, making the finger monitor creak under the strain.

"Temporarily out of commission. Not useless."

Nik turned his head away, refusing to hear it. They sat in silence, Price's thumb stroking back and forth over Nik's knuckles, giving him a point to focus on that wasn't his burning skin or the darkness of his vision.

"Nik, short of turnin' me over to Al Qatala, you could never let me down," Price said, finally.

Now was the time. Now Nik needed to hear it more than ever.

"You... mean the world to me. I..." he rubbed at his face, tugging at his whiskers, "...I love you. And when I saw you go down, my heart stopped for a second. The world stopped. Believe it or not, I was glad you were screamin' bloody murder in that chopper, cause that meant you were still here."

Nik drew a stuttering breath, but he didn't say anything. The man who had a one-liner or a bit of sass for every occasion sat in mute silence. It made Price ache in a way he never had before.

"'M not gonna abandon you, Nik. Wouldn't have even if this had been permanent. An' I know you don't believe me. I know. But... 'm gonna show ya. And you can grumble and cuss at me 'til the cows come home."

Nik's head fell back against the pillow and he sniffed, scowling with a muttered curse.

"You olrigh'?" Price squeezed his hand.

"Da. I am crying like little girl and it is stinging my eyes."

Price chuckled, patting their joined hands against his own thigh. "Soppy git."

That had to be a good sign. Tear ducts were what the eyes used to heal and maintain themselves, right? And he could feel the tears. Positive. This was positive. Price lifted Nik's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles, lingering there to feel the warmth of his skin.

Nik swallowed, his fingers tightening in Price's grip. "If I had known that losing my eyes would have earned me John Price, I would have cut them out years ago."

"Fuckin' 'ell, Nik," Price said incredulously, always somewhat taken aback by the intensity with which Nik expressed himself when it was just them. He sighed. "Yer've had me all this time. I just... I'm just not as brave as you are."

Nik huffed. "Bravo Six is the bravest man I know."

"Only for some things. Not feelin' particularly brave right now, and you're the one in the gurney."

Nik tilted his head towards Price, so desperate to see his face. Price was glad he couldn't. His damn eyes were watering. "Then, I will be brave for you. This, I can do without my eyes."

Price smiled and made sure Nik could feel it against his palm, promising him silently in that moment that he wouldn't waste a single second more of their time together on this bloody earth. "Sounds like a plan."

[toomanythoughts4myhead]

A drop of poison goes a long way

Summary: More insight in Coriolanuses work life and the veil of what is going inside his past loves head is finaly revealed. Coriolanus is offered what he wants. Will it be his doom again?

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow and his brain; mentions of attempted murder, shooting, gun violence, prosthetic as result; Capitol people.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I am so sorry it took me this long to write this. December wasn't 🎄Decembering🎄 it was 📝Decembering📝. I hope you enjoy and I will try to be more on schedule. Hope yall enjoy.

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Coriolanus liked to think of himself as a sensible individual by Capitol standards, to say the least.

Then why has he been on the verge of ripping his hair out for the past day and a half?

Ever since Dr Gaul had presented to him his "fixed" songbird he has been in a state of mind unbecoming of the image he has built himself to be. He even had to cancel his lunch outing with Solicis Saddler, a hefty sponsor of the games with an odd bloodthirst for someone who was missing most of his natural teeth and had gotten a tacky golden replacement.

Dr Gaul hadn't allowed for him to take you home or stay long, not that he had been able to protest, eyes glued to your form like ot would set you on fire or make you crawl back in his arms. He didn't want to think about the consequences; he knew he had failed whatever test this was supposed to be. He should have remained stoic and proud, barely sparing you a glance. Instead, he gaped at you, hopefully with a closed mouth.

He had gotten used to troubling his mind with various plots and schemes before bed, usually that kept his mind at bay and away from you. Now, you came back in strutting to render him powerless over his own being. He felt stupid and weak, unsure who to hate more - himself or you.

He decides he hates you most.

After the encounter, he had gotten back in his car and gone to work, collecting himself now that you were out of sight. With the rise of popularity after the 11th and especially 12th game the making of the Hunger Games had become a lot more professional and lavish, the personal had expanded and even changed and added buildings to the office.

As a head game maker, he worked and operated over the main building, the center, and the gem of the whole operation. The building itself was in various shades of whites and blacks, and all in-between, a lot of the structure was from black and white marble with golden cracks. Coriolanus liked working there, in his expensive suits and office at the top of the building, overlooking the whole Capitol. he felt powerful, as he should. He was the one in control.

The main game makers teams were separated and had multiple departments that discussed locations, structures, finances, networking and so on and forth, anything needed for the games to run smoothly and be as entertaining as possible. He was the one who organized meetings and approved ideas and made sure they would also be reasonable by the almost limitless budget. This meant he technically worked only a few hours; the other time, he spent building ties and attending lunches and dinners that would benefit him. Technically, since he is the head and face of the operating, whatever helped him helped the community. So, no one complained or questioned him.

This day was horrible and he breezed by most of it, he felt that on the back of his mind he was reliving this morning over and over and decided its best not to interact with one of his best sponsors when not fully with hus mind. He had fumbled some excuse on his way back from work that he didn't feel good, which was partly true.

Now, the hot water of his shower was burning his skin as he increased it again. He didn't like the burning hot but thus was about discipline. I remember who he was now and for what eh stood. He wouldn't allow you to take this away from him again.

His sleep was troubled and came upon him way too late, his skin felt raw and sensitive from the waterx maybe he shouldn't over do it too much, he wouldn't like for people to notice. His carefully glided back curls were sticking everywhere, and he felt aggitated, but he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. Not uncommon.

° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ °

In the morning, he felt better. He rose with the same confidence he had adopted and went out for a run. At least his stay in the districts had taught him discipline and instilled the need to train his body, something all the spoiled and often drugged up or obese people of the Capitol seem to lack. It made him stand out, with his sculpted torso and wide shoulders, strong but not intimidating brutishly so, he filled out his shirts and suits in way he never could back when he was barely eating anything with substance.

It had snowed again last night, surely a good fortune. His sneakers left imprints in the still not cleared up paths in the near park, his breath fanned over his face in clouds of white smoke, he could feel the chilling air nip at his sides through the thin running clothes he had. He felt alive.

By this time, his avoxes were up and on the go, tending to the apartment and the his work clothes and breakfast. He knew their routine like the back of his hand, and so they didn't dare step out of it; it felt good. Each day he got the same royal treatment, no back talk (or any talk for that matter), after a while even he didn't have to talk to them, they knew what to do, he would often limited himself to simple commands. It was a pleasant start to his day since he had to deal with pompous arrogant moneybags for a living.

When he reached the street on which his apartment resided the sun was starting to turn the sky redish. He felt a faint sheen of sweat on his doby and shuddered as his body started to cool down from the exercise, what caught his attention was one of his avoxes waiting for him at the threshold of the apartment. Coriolanus raised an eyebrow as he approached, straightening his back and slowing down his breathing. Judging by the unsure look on their face he knew something had gone wrong, they weren't supposed to be here.

"Could you explain to me what you are doing outside?"

The avoxe looked up at him with gaze that held too much fear, sure he had punished avoxes before but not so cruelly. A mere doubling of chores or less food had been all he had done, merely disciplinary shows of power. The same way a dog needs to be taught, so do humans. The avoxe passed him a note, an envelope sealed with red wax in the capitols symbol. A message from the Citadel.

Coriolanus lifted an eyebrow. Receiving mail isn't exactly an out of the ordinary thing, he doesn't think it's really worth it freeze his ass of and catch something over a letter, but his gnawing intuition told him it was something bad. The realization seeped through and he felt an unpleasant churning in his timach as he ripped the envelope and read the letter.

It would hardly be called a letter since it consistented barely two sentences but It made his head spin.

"Take this as an encouragement from the staff of the Citadel for all your hard work. We hope you don't mind we clipped your Songbirds wings a little."

It wasn't signed but it didn't have to be. Who else could have scared his staff this badly but Dr Gaul? The implications of the letter set in and he barged into his apartment way too quickly, almaot shoving the avoxes down the stairs.

Snow fells and littered his floor, making wet spots on his white rug, but it wasn't the only thing tainting his apartment. There on his couch he found you, sitting cross-legged and fighting woth the decorative bouquet of roses on the coffee table. Your gaze snapped to him, watching hiw with curiosity and a startled look in your eyes as he stared back with such intensity it made you feel uncomfortable.

The hospital gown he had seen before had been switched for a creame white knitted dress that reached your knees and black leggings with boots, semi-useful for the weather and surprisingly basic for the extravagant taste of the Capitol. In the natural light seeping from the glass wall your prosthetic arm looked too natural. You looked too natural, unchanged, maybe even bettered by some fancy Capitol equipment.

What surprised him most was the way you looked at him.

He had spend a long time going over all possibilities of interactions between him and you, he had imagined a cold shoulder, yelling, screaming, maybe you would even try to attack him. But you looked at him with admiration, your face brightened as you placed your warm gaze on him. Not lovingly like before, you didn't seem to recognize him fully.

He walked closer until your knees were a hairstarnd away from his thigh and stopped. He didn't know how to react, he could feel the grasp of control he wielded best at his own house. You just had that effect on him, maybe it was the puppy smile on your face.

As he approaches you stand up, now he can clearly see the white bow on your head, truly wrapped like a present for him.

"Dr Gaul sends her warmest regards. And im here to thank you personally for all you have done for me."

Coriolanus despote everything found himself even more confused. Sure, he had done a lot of you: kept you alive during the Hunger games, cheat in the Hunger games for you, carry out some duty in district 12. He hadn't imagined you'd be thankful for it now. His lack of response must have confused you.

"I am so very thankful you saved me from the districts. I would have been left for dead if you hadnt sent your team of doctors to help me." - you add with a sweet genuine smile and loving gaze.

What?

"Well i couldnt leave my girl for dead among these animals. You know I'd do anything for you." - he smiled back and went as far as to gently grasp your hand in a sweet gesture.

He is grasping at loose straws here. It was evident that your memory was very... selective and altered. He could somewhat force himself to imagine that it was all due to the incident, but he knew better. This was all Dr Gauls idea and work. He needed to figure out more of the scenario Dr Gaul had constructed for you. And to find out how.

You seemed to like the gesture, squeezing his hand into your smaller one. Your hands were softer, not calloused or rough from playing guitar or surviving, but soft and inviting. Your nails were even done, he had to give it up.to the person in charge of your presentation, they had truly went all in.

"It all happened so fast, the doctors never filled me in fully of what exactly happened." - he said feigning ignorance and worry.

"It was horrible. After i returned i wanted to see my family so bad, but everyone turned on me. They chased me down through the forest because i had managed to get a glimpse of what thwy want - wealth and power, even if briefly from the Capitol. My own family tried to shoot me." - you said and it visibly made you upset, your voice became more uneven, wobbling lightly with along with your bottom lip.

Your own blood? You had no living family, you'd said so yourself before. It appears the lab team had decided to do this in the most dramatic way possible.

He put his thumb on your slightly trembling chin, running his knuckles over your reddening bottom lip and coo at you sympatheticly, as much as he could.

"My poor girl, im so sorry it took us this long to get you back and kicking. Those people certainly did a number on your poor body." - he ran his free hand up on the prosthetic bicep, it felt colder to the touch, not as squishy as human flesh and fat, but surprisingly close.

You nod into the palm of his hand, looking at him with big watery eyes. This is amazing, Coriolanus thought. He had you right how he always wanted you, under his thumb and eating out of his palm. You were like a frail little fawn waking up after the cruel winter had passed, everything is different but so so familiar. He would be your guide, he will show you the right way, he will be your light and your dark. You will worship and thank him for taking your control and responsibilities away.

All hate seemed to be burried for now, this opportunity made Coriolanus too excited, to have his favorite toy back. You weren't the girl who had sicked a snake on him, no, that girl was dead, trapped in her own body but permanently erased. Whatever he had now was the perfect doll with your face slapped on it.

"Oh my precious lamb, welcome home."

He cooed and tried to keep the sadistic glint in his eyes from showing too much. He put his arms around you, big hands digging into the warm material of your lower back, the rose ring on his pointer finger scraped the material. Your cheek was pressed against collarbone, nosing at his neck. Even a few seconds in his embrace and the sickeningly sweet smell of white roses was clinging to your whole body. Even a few minutes were enough for his poison to take root.

He runs his hands up and down your back, keeping you close. It felt good, to feel your warmth again, it made something tick in his brain whenever he felt your warmer weaker body against his. Call it animal instincts or a sick mind, neither are too far off.

"Ive missed you" he croons in your neck, his nose bumps your pulse point and it makes your head feel lighter. You are alsmot too loat in each other, but the feeling of being watched makes you open your eyes to find a nervous looking older woman. You instinctively true and pull away from Coriolanuses tight embrace but he doesn't let up, his hands just dig deeper into the fat on your hips and sides.

"Where do you think you are running off to? Are you not happy to be mine?" - he asked with a mocking tone but the intensity in his eyes never wavered.

"Corio, there is someone her-"

"Just an avoxe, no need to be shy. She wont say a peep." - replied clamly and stood back to his full height, keeping you good to his side like an accessory. Your face was held to his chest by the back of your neck, the hold wasn't strong but you hadnt tried to break free either. It made your cheeks burn a tad bit. "What seemes to be the problem?"

The woman stood still and pondered how to explain it without actual words but the loud bickering of an old man that could be also drunk and rattle of metal made Coriolanuses breath hitches for a moment.

Solicis Saddler.

He had promised dinner at his penthouse to make up for canceling, to go over the future plans of the games to keep the bloodthirsty man at bay and his wallet open for all gruesome scenes. Judging by his pompous screaming and yelling at his staff he had taken the invitation to heart.

Coriolanus had completely forgot about this. And it made him feel like the ever-growing tower that was his life was tilting, he was getting sloppy. He needed to focus again. He won't repeat the same mistakes.

Pressed against him, Coriolanus could feel you flinch as the octaves kept on getting louder. He needed to apologize to his neighbors tomorrow for all the chatter. He gave your waist a squeeze and kept you locked to him.

"Let him in."

(Not my best but lemme cook chat, i.swear ill do better next time.)

[charmwasjess]

Thoughts about Dooku and Sifo Dyas in the imperial era? Like if they role-swapped with Cal Kestis' or something?

Oh, this is SUCH a fun ask, thank you. :D 

Dooku in an Imperial world. It seems like it would be so tasty, but I might be getting too distracted picturing him in those slutty little uniforms. 

The problem I see is that Dooku by RotS seemed so genuinely fucked up to me, to the point of being almost incapable of thriving in an Imperial world. Legends does a great job depicting his absolutely crumbling mental and emotional state, a man who loses track of his own POV and replaces it with Sidious’s in the middle of a book he’s narrating, but I think even in the relatively sparser depictions of him during that time in current canon, the cracks show. He’s not scheming against either Palpatine or the Jedi effectively, he seems like he’s losing control of his own kingdom of lies, his final (?) Clone Wars appearance with the ritual to psychic-attack Yoda, he seems downright fucking miserable the whole time. He’s like just sitting in a room dissociating when Sidious calls to tell him he’ll need his blood for this ritual, and you can fucking HEAR his sigh. 

Beyond his emotional and mental state, I don't feel like we have a clear idea of what Dooku thought his own end game for after the war. Stover’s batshit “honorable retirement in Sidious’s wonderful new Empire” smells a little off to me and I think the RotS novel got decanonized? I could see him wanting to take over training of the Inquisitors - fuck, he’s been trying to do that with his Sith apprentices for ages - but really, is Sidious going to let him anywhere near that project? Somehow, I don't think so.

I think Dooku ends up quite like he himself daydreams about in Yoda: Dark Rendezvous:

I don’t see a depressed, lightning-cooked shell of himself doing particularly well or lasting long in a cutthroat Imperial command structure. Vader was groomed for the role for years and still is shown struggling with his position in the OT. 

Of course, it’s much more fun to picture him coming to his senses, realizing Sidious’s bullshit, and joining the fight against the Empire in some kind of personal vendetta against the man who convinced him to destroy everything he loved and then planned to dump him, but… I don’t know. Dooku seems broken and defeated to me at the end, and coming to his senses about everything he gave up to get to that rock bottom, I think would completely collapse him as a person. I’m trying to do something like this in my fic The Thunder Answered Back, which... perhaps tellingly... hasn't been updated in a year because Dooku just keeps lying down on the floor. 

Sifo-Dyas is much more interesting and likely to my mind, because he’s essentially been preparing his whole life for this moment. The Living Force has him by the end of his life being able to use his precognition effectively enough that the Council is using it as a tool, presumably that would be a huge advantage in staying one step ahead of Imperial raids and Inquisitors. He’s also a Jedi Master, former High Councilmember, trained by a High Republic era Jedi Master himself. He represents a huge amount of generational knowledge of the Jedi Order.

@dapurinthos had a FANTASTIC Sifo-Dyas on the Path AU post reply somewhere that I wish I could find because they are smarter and funnier than me and it was truly perfect. In summation: yes, Sifo-Dyas is a huge pain in the ass for the Empire. Boinking Inquisitors on the head features strongly.

Now. Fanfic nonsense it? Swap in younger idealist Dooku and his seer bestie Sifo-Dyas into a Cal Kestis scenario? Two brave fated young Padawans against the Empire? No. They die the first day. Going off just the first part of Dooku: Jedi Lost, those two idiots lost a fight with: a bookshelf, each other, literally some bacta, a hallucination (several times), Dooku’s dad, moss… and that’s just going off the top of my head.

Sorry guys. They get crushed in one of those scary doors in like the first two seconds.

[monimccoythings]

Sore Loser

This fic was written using ai, which stands for an introvert, which is me. No, seriously, I'll never use ai to write, even if my writing becomes shit. Speaking of which, another one! :D This (fish) man has the worst of tempers and doesn't like to share.

Arlong hated many things: humanity, for starters; being mocked; waiting; discrimination against his people... and the list went on.

But if there was something he specially hated, was losing. Back in his early days in the Fishman district he was one of the worst options to play with, his competitiveness was such that just a small loss at any game was enough to send him into a fit of rage that made him punch the wall until it cracked or his knuckles bled.

There was something specially bitter about losing, it meant humilliation, it meant recognising that the other was better than you. There was nothing to learn about defeat. Just to do better next time, if there was any...

And losing to a human meant double the bitterness.

It's not like you were a great prize; Hell, you sure weren't, you were human after all, at least that was what he constantly told himself, just a simple reminder that was becoming more of a lie with each day that passed.

He wanted you. More than he had ever desired anything. He needed to possess you, to consume you over and over again, to have you by his side at all times and to wake up by your side every morning.

He didn't know where his infantuation had started, but it had spread through him like an infection. He had stopped fighting against those feelings long ago, it was pointless. At first he thought he could keep you as a trophy, a memorabilia of his triumphs over the lesser race, but at some point those feelings of conquering had begun morphing into something else, something he swore he would never allow himself to feel for the enemy.

His behavior towards you had also subconsciously changed due to his growing feelings. He found your presence increasingly more tolerable, not entirely welcomed, but more tolerable than it had initially been. At least he no longer threatened you with painful death each time you came across each other in the ship, and whenever he made a jab at the human race he made sure to separate you from the rest of humanity, referring to the whole species as them. That had to count, right? He was doing his best. And he was playing to win.

That's why he couldn't stand seeing you so close to another man, a human man. When had you two gotten so close? You had just met a couple of hours ago and had already achieved a deeper emotional connection than you had with the rest of the crewmates or him. Was it a human thing? Did he miss something?

As you laughed once again at one of those supposedly hilarious quips that idiot made, he clenched his fists with barely concealed rage, muscles swelling and veins bulging. He was making a huge effort self restraining himself from what he perceived a threat towards his territory, and somehow you weren't able to notice, too busy chatting with your would be suitor.

Arlong wasn't a patient fishman, and the second he saw that bastard's hand on your shoulder, he decided that enough was enough and that it was a perfectly good time to eat some fresh meat. His intimidating presence and furious expression gave him the look of a rabid sea king ready to attack, which was probably the reason why many of the people who saw him stomping towards you immediately ran away to avoid crossing in his path. First wise thing he had seen a human do in his entire life.

As he was about to lift his kiribachi to slice that asshole in two, you quickly said your goodbyes and turned towards him with a sheepish and apaologetic look on your face.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Turns out his father is from the same island I was- I mean, am." Arlong rolled his eyes at your attempts to correct yourself, as he had no intention of letting you go from his side, ever. "One thing led to another and before I noticed we already knew each other's life histories!" You said it with a nervous chuckle, completely oblivious at the way Arlong gritted his teeth. Jealously raised its ugly head inside him.

"Stop wasting my time and let's go back to the ship!" It came out harsher than he had intended, but given his rising anger, you should be thankful he was behaving this well.

"B-but the supplies!"

"I do not wish to spend one more second in this dump, move it!" He was not going to risk another pathetic attempt at flirting in his presence. No human was going to beat him to you.

He put his webbed hand close to your lower back, which made you blush a little. It wasn't close enough to touch you but it was close enough so everyone who was foolish enough to look at you knew that he had already staked his claim.

And he was not going to lose it.

[dailydragon08]

I hate the “no attachments” rhetoric so much and I hate that both Ahsoka and Luke in Mando and TBOBF fell straight back into it. Cuz they especially should know more than anyone that the feelings of isolation, feeling like you’re not in a safe space to healthily process your emotions—which requires actually feeling them and being in an environment where you’re allowed to feel them—and feeling like you have a support system where you can speak your feelings without judgment to get guidance and support is REQUIRED for Jedi to stay on the light side. Cuz loneliness, feeling like a burden, feeling like if you have one bad emotion it makes you all bad because of rules around feelings that are unrealistic and too rigorous makes you way more susceptible to the dark side.

Trying to beat bad emotions out of people completely is unrealistic. Expecting literal children to not feel those feelings and just know what to do with them cuz you’ve created a space where those feelings are forbidden is unrealistic. Pushing feelings and emotions down and “burying” them (re: obi wan telling luke “bury your feelings deep down” in ROTJ) and expecting those people to be perfectly healthy is unrealistic. Wanting this level of control over people, their thoughts, and their emotions, and this black and white thinking is not only toxic and dangerous, but is akin to cult culture. The PT era Jedi were extremists in this way and just too blind and couldn’t accept any criticism enough to see it because for some reason, a bunch of old guys decided evolution was not allowed and they’d just keep running the system the same way they always had with no room for change and that would somehow be this foolproof path to survival—which is a complaint a lot of people have about our current irl political system and is causing a lot of damage, btw.

Like wasn’t that the whole point of showing the Jedi’s fall? And doesn’t clone wars especially show how this thinking created all these cracks in the system that Palpatine was easily able to exploit and manipulate and Anakin was just someone who wanted change in the order and he was ostracized for it, so Palpatine latched onto him and Anakin was like “oh finally someone values me,” just to be manipulated and abused and have his whole life blown up to the point that he thought the empire was his only option (obv not excusing the atrocities, just saying I can see how he got to where he did mentally by ROTS)? Like he literally tells Luke that they can team up to overthrow the emperor and in ROTJ, when Luke tries to get him to run with him pre-throne room battle, he says “it’s too late for me,” so he KNOWS this is bad and only going to get worse, but has resigned himself to it.

Like wasn’t the whole point of the OT and the “I can’t kill my own father/there’s still good in him/I can turn him back to the good side” meant to prove that Jedi DO NEED healthy connections in order to thrive and stay on the light side? If they wanna forbid anything, they should be forbidding possession and control, but the PT Jedi Council instead used that for their own benefit and lacked any self awareness to see they’d just become what they were preaching against.

Like give me a post-OT Jedi council who teaches healthy connection and letting things go that aren’t meant for you to control and that friendships and relationships can be powerful things that bring you back to the light in your darkest moments, and a more Legends-esque New Jedi Order that values emotional health and well-being and is a safe space for not only the galaxy, but Force sensitives, no matter how they’re built instead of trying to force everyone into the same box. This is the order I wanted to see Luke cultivate in canon and I will forever be salty that this isn’t what we got.

[chuplayswithfire]

Nuance is something that can be soooo hard for online spaces to hold onto. Hell, offline spaces too, for that matter. Today I'm thinking about kink and the concept of kinkshaming, when I think about nuance: that people should be allowed to enjoy and engage with kink, especially in fictional and fandom spaces where even bad kink etiquette can't actually harm anyone should be a given. Personally, as long as someone is tagging correctly and creating with self awareness, anything goes in a fictional space, you do you, your content deserves to exist online. I have personally created a variety of kinky works, both publicly available and not, and would really not have a leg to stand on trying to declare otherwise. In a time where people are cracking down heavily on kink and trying to decry it as deviance that shouldn't exist, being kink positive can be a very important, good thing.

At the same time though, the people have squicks, and when it comes to kink and a good culture towards sex in general, people have to be allowed to have squicks. If anyone's hearing the term for the first time, a squick is essentially a concept that just grosses you right out, you do not want to see it, you do not want to learn more, maybe it even distresses you to see it, but not to the extent that you would consider ot triggering content. A couple of common tend to bodily excrement: piss and shit, alongside guro (extensive bodily mutilation combined with sexual imagery). A squick doesn't have to be extreme, it doesn't have to be unusual, it's just something that grosses an individual out, and they don't want to see it. (And because this is tumblr and it must be said: no, racism is not a squick.)

Sometimes, we lean so heavily into the negative that we refuse to allow positivity. Sometimes, we get so into positivity, that we refuse to acknowledge negatives. People are allowed to talk about their squicks. If people see something that grosses them out, they don't have to shut up about it just because it's someone else's kink. Kinkshaming, the idea that someone would go up to someone else and tell them they're gross for their kink, is something people shouldn't do in general. But expressing disgust and distaste for a kink in general isn't kinkshaming - that's just talking about your squick.

Your Kink Is Not My Kink And That's Okay is about not hating on other people or demanding their works not exist because you hate the kink, not pretending that you find every kink, fetish, or sexual concept totally wonderful and would never react with disgust towards one. This idea in fandom that if you don't like something you should never say anything publicly because what if someone does like that thing, and is upset that you publicly don't like that thing, is ridiculous, and it has been for a while. Negative emotions have a place in fandom, especially in regard to sexual content. You shouldn't harass people who share a kink (especially when their content is tagged this is why everyone should read the tags) - but you also shouldn't go around saying people aren't allowed to use their own online space to process their disgust.

I've been seeing a lot of people lately saying anyone discussing how much they dislike a kink concept is just a kinkshamer, an anti, the purity police, and it's getting beyond ridiculous. We have the right to engage in kink, to write about kink, to make kinky art, create audio for it, and to in general delight in all kinds of kinky works. We also have the responsibility to make sure we're tagging correctly. Others have the right to dislike kink, including our own kinks, and to talk about how much they dislike those kinks. They have the responsibility to make sure they're curating correctly, that they're reading the tags and warnings on a work, and that they work out their negative responses in their own space.

Multiple things can be true: kink is a great way to explore sexuality and desire and a wide range of topics. people deserve to share their interest in kink without harassment or being belittled. one person's joy can be another person's squick. people deserve to share their squick without harassment or being belittled.

[royal-bubble-tea]

Stray Kıds Headcanon

As we all know Stray Kıds are pocket sized, so I want to induldge myself once more and write Stray Kıds Members with a tall significant other. I am 1,80m/ 5'11 so I am using my own height as reference.

Stray Kıds x tall! gn! Reader

Bang Chan

I think Chan does not care about someone elses height. He knows that you both can do nothing about each others height so you can only embrace and love each other just the way you are. Just picture the two of you standing next to each other and him looking up at you. There are hearts in his eyes, dimples showing and so happy to have you by his side. One of his favourite things to do is taking pictures with you. Especially ones were you are posing and him jumping as high as he can. After landing he would look at you all smug and proud with himself. While you are just standing there shaking your head a smile adorning you face.

Lee Know

He would tease you but would stop in an instant if he notices that you would not like his teasing anymore. He has a hard time showing his affection openly. So he would put things in high places and later ask you to grab them for him. He would smile and blush so hard at how happy you are by being useful. Lee know just finds it so cute to look up at you and admire you.

Changbin

This short King is everything you could hope for in a partner. He worships the ground you walk on. He would puff his chest in pride when walking around with you in public. The way you are turning heads makes him smile so much, knowing that other people may look but only he can get the real deal. He absolutly loves touching your legs, running his hands up and down the lenght of them. Changbin also loves to just lift you up at random times, just because he can. He twirls you around and hearing your laughter makes his heart burst with love.

Hyunjin

You two are pretty much the same height. And let me tell you Hyunjin absolutely adores your height. With you being equal to him no one has to bend down awkwardly or has to dance and balance on their tippy toes. You can kiss each other whenever you want and nuzzle your noses together. But what Hyunjin loves the most about your height is that he can easily gaze into your eyes and get lost in them. Just image being out on a date with him and he keeps looking deep into your eyes, lost in tought and a serene smile on his face, just happy to share this moment with you.

Han

This little shit would not let you breath. It is either constantly cracking jokes with you and teasing you a little bit about your height or him just clinging to you like a koala to a tree. It is mostly the latter. He would often cling to you. Being draped around you or over your back, grasping your arm tight and pulling you closer to him. But sometimes it can be something more calm, like him holding your hand or the tip of your shirt. He loves how much comfort you give him and how he can just forget about the hectic world around him by being held in your warm embrace.

Felix

Heart eyes. That is the main thing about him. Just hearts, and stars and even an entire galaxy in his eyes when looking at you. He is so much in love with you and your height. Felix loves to point out your height and the height difference between the two of you to others. Instead of being embarassed by it he absolutely adores it. He thinks it is just so cute. Another big plus for him is the fact that you can swallow him up in an embrace. He loves to just disappear when you hug him. It makes him feel loved and protected and you would do everything to make your sunshine happy, even if you sometimes have to roll your eyes at his antics.

Seungmin

Is pretty much neutral about you height. He fell in love with you and your personality. He once admitted to you that he chose you for the content of your character not for your physical features. He will always stand proud next to you and would (verbally) fight everyone who would make you feel bad about your height. You two would be each others own personal hype person, when one is lacking confidence the other would build them up again and shower them with love.

I.N (Jeongin)

He would blush constantly when looking up at you. He does not mind at all that you are taller than him. The only thing that might concern him is his members teasing you. But after they saw how much he adores you their teasing would be very mild and you would always laugh along with them. Jeongin secretly loves the thought that he his your cute little other half. He loves having your legs on top of his and just running his hands up and down the lenght of them.

Hope you like this little Headcanon. I absolutely adore our pocket sized/ short kings Stray Kıds members. ☺️🤭

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Oh my god, I’m like so stressed but of course I decide to start writing something else while In the midst of writing something else. 🙄 so have a bit of venom steve with spiderman eddie. Promise that Never Say Die will be updated tomorrow after I get out of school (:

Eddies fingers stuck to the ceiling, somehow holding his entire weight. Now, years later he was still confused as to how the hell a ceiling didn’t just collapse when he was crawling across it. There is no explanation for the things he can do. All he knows his that he can do them, and no matter what he’s going to bring Justice for his Uncle. The Harrington’s were the last stone that was left unpicked. The last clue to the mystery. If he didn’t find answers here then Wayne Munson’s death was going to be for nothing. And worst of all his Uncle wouldn’t receive Justice. So that’s how he finds himself crawling around Robert Harrington’s office. Waiting patiently for the older man to leave.

The man’s glasses were falling off his nose, but he was so concentrated on reading his papers that he doesn’t even notice. Whatever that was in those documents must be really important. Eddie moves closer to the window like doors that lead to the balcony. Of course the rich bastard had those. Slowly, and as silent as possible he drops down from the ceiling. Crouching on the carpet, hoping that he didn’t make a wrong move and alert the man. Which was why he hadn’t entered through the doors now behind him. Carefully, he crawls to one of the curtains. Using it as a cover, moving and standing behind it. Becoming one with the cloth. He felt stupid but he didn’t care.

His legs start to ache from standing for so long. Twenty minutes pass before anything exciting happens. Robert Harrington’s doors fling open the rest of the way. A loud crack from the wall, where the door knob created a reasonable hole in. There, stood the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. Wearing a outdated polo and blue jeans. If he wasn’t currently on a mission, he would have fallen on his face from stupidity. He would be lying if he said there wasn’t a slight drool puddle forming in his mask. He knew he was gay, but this guy buried any doubt in his mind (which there was very little to begin with) into the ground.

His eyes have a fiery look to them. Like he was on a rampage of some sort. How a angel like him could possibly hurt a fly was beyond him.

“Stop drooling over Steve Fucking Harrington, Eddie. And focus on what they’re talking about. The suits not catching their voices dipshit.” Henderson’s voice startles Eddie back to his main purpose. If he could move, he would shut off his ear piece the other hand made him. Internally he’s already making note to swat the little shit upside the head when he got home.

Discreetly moving his hand, he subtly rolls one of the gadgets Dustin made him. Watching it roll under Robert Harrington’s desk. The mic catching their voices now. Though Eddie could hear them with the naked ear, Dustin could not.

“Father-” Steve Harrington’s voice is louder then what Eddie imagined it to be. Though he doesn’t understand why he was imagining it in the first place.

“Don’t talk to me like that young man. Remember who you’re talking to.” Mr. Harrington’s voice is in a low growl. Holding his authority the best he can. Though, like with his business the authority he once had over his son was slipping through his finger tips.

“Yeah- I’m talking to Robert Harrington. The biggest fraud of New York City.” Steve has a feral grin on his face. Eddie could barely see him through the curtain, his heart was racing as he’s sure he could see him if he glanced over at any second. “Now- Mom wanted me to tell you, that Dinners done. And that if you don’t go down to eat, she’s going to to cut your balls off.” Steve grins.

“Eddie there’s something off about him.” Dustin’s carefully mumbling into his ear now. “Look at his hands.” He points out.

Eddie listens almost immediately. Eyes flashing towards the others hands that now gripped the corners of his fathers desk. His veins didn’t look right. They looked black? And like they were crawling under his skin. Eddie wasn’t sure what was making his hands to look like that but there was something terribly wrong. He’s heard tales about the Harrington boy. About how he was the nicest one out of them. Now Eddie didn’t personally know him, but his gut was telling him that there was something off about this guy. Most likely he didn’t act like this way normally.

Robert Harrington stands up, jaw set tightly as he moves slamming the book that he was looking through. Moving and closing it in a drawer and locking it shut. Before he’s moving, walking out of the room without a word. Steve’s eyes immediately flicker to the curtain. A amused look on his face as he relaxes his shoulders a bit. “You know there are better hiding places in here.” He says calmly. Hands fidgeting a bit as his veins seem to start to crawl faster. Wrapping themselves around his hands.

Eddie doesn’t see the point in hiding anymore. He moves, walking carefully with his hands up in defense. Steve’s eyes never leave him. “What are you doing in my fathers study?”

“Looking for answers.” Eddie says simply. Sounding vague.

“Hm- mind sharing with the class?” Steve sasses. Crossing his arms over his chest. Hiding his hands, trying to control whatever that was currently happening to his body. Though Eddie could now see that the others veins on his neck were beginning to do the same thing. Moving up to his face, which was scrunching up in a pained expression.

“Eddie.” Dustin’s warns. Sounding a bit to anxious for Eddie’s liking.

“Um- Justice? Hey dude are you alright?” Eddie asks moving forward carefully. Not expecting the other to turn violent. Just as fast as the other entered the office, whatever black substance takes over his body. Reaching out and grabbing ahold of Eddie, before throwing him out the glass door.

Before he is forcefully removed from the others property though, he swears he catches a glimpse of panic and remorse written all over Steve Harrington’s face. Up until whatever that shit was, warps it’s self around his face. Creating a new one. One that he recognized from a few of his past crusades.

Venom

[stormcloudrising]

Why are the Others Back?

What is everyone’s thoughts on the Others? Why are they back? How are they connected to the Starks?

The Others are the ice to the dragon’s fire, and the two are the great existential threats looming over Planetos. Yet, we know more about the dragons and dragon lords than we do the Others. They and their connection to the Starks, the core family of the story, is at the heart of the great mystery of the books.

They are presented as a great threat that needs to be contained, but there are also a lot of obvious contradictions in what we’ve been told about them…starting with the Night’s King and Corpse Queen. What do I mean by contradictions?

Well, if the NK and CQ were the leaders of the Others and they are a destructive force, why is the Hades/Pluto and Persephone/Kore myth so baked into their legends? At its heart, the legend of two Greek/Roman gods is a fertility myth. 

Hades, the chthonic ruler of the underworld was a fertility god. The planted seeds were his bounty which he stored and nourished in the earth until they bloomed in the spring and were harvested in the fall to feed the populace before the process started over again with the planting season. His abduction of Persephone ties into this myth with her descent for three months representing winter and her yearly return to be with her mother Demeter a signal of the start of the spring and harvest seasons. 

Hades/Pluto was the Lord of the Underworld, but he was also the god of the hidden wealth of the earth, from the fertile soil, which nourished the seed-grain, to the mined wealth of precious metals. Also, he is the god who welcomes all, whose realm is full of guests. He does not cause the death that brings men to his realm, because death comes to everyone, and all are welcome in his realm. 

So, my question is why George has so closely associated a renewal myth with the legend of the leaders and likely progenitors of the Others. Another contradiction has to do with what is implied in the Qarthian myth about two moons in the sky. 

"He told me the moon was an egg, Khaleesi," the Lysene girl said. "Once there were two moons in the sky, but one wandered too close to the sun and cracked from the heat. A thousand thousand dragons poured forth and drank the fire of the sun. That is why dragons breathe flame. One day the other moon will kiss the sun too, and then it will crack and the dragons will return." —AGOT Daenerys III

The name of the series is A Song of Ice and Fire. By the way, I think it’s interesting that George reversed the order of things in his series name. Instead of Fire and Ice as in the Frost poem, he went with Ice and Fire, which I think was a deliberate choice with meaning behind it on his part, but that a discussion for another day.

My point is that the two moons in the sky represent the two factions in the story…ice and fire. The fire moon cracked and symbolic fire dragons likely black meteors were born into the world. The destruction of the fire moon likely was the main reason for the Long Night and the great floods legend tells us about. That left one moon in the sky…the icy one. We know this because George drops one of his plays on words with “one day the other moon will kiss the sun too, and then it will crack and dragons will return.”

 These dragons that will return aren’t the fire breathing ones, but the icy Others as they represent the ice moon. They are not the animalistic type of dragons like the fire breathing ones, but they are George’s version of ice dragons.

However, here is where the contradiction comes in. What saved Planetos from destruction previously is that only one moon was destroyed. The ice moon remained in the sky. If the ice moon were to be destroyed as well, it would spell the end of Planetos. 

That ice moon in the sky is a type of balance. It can possibly survive a slight cracking, but it can’t and shouldn’t be destroyed or else, that’s the end of all life on the planet. Thus, maybe part of the reason the Others have returned is to prevent the destruction of the ice moon, maybe by the actions of the fire faction whether knowing or unknowingly…especially Euron whose goal is to reshape all life in his image.

So that’s a second contradiction in the legend of the Others. A potential third one is not about them specifically, but it could tie into their myth. This third possibility has to do with the confusing myth of old northern warriors going out into the frozen cold to hunt, but basically it was to commit suicide. 

Legend tells us that this was done because of the scarcity of food. Leaving their families and going out into the cold meant there was one less mouth to feed, their families could survive on rations a bit longer. 

Now this story seems a bit off for a couple of reasons. First, legend also tells us that the White Walkers were roaming the land, hunting maids and everything with hot blood. They were also known necromancers who brought back the dead to be their armies. So why would warriors leave their families to go out and basically become a weapon of the White Walkers to be used against their loved ones. They had to know that’s what it meant when they went out into the cold.

However, there is possibly another explanation that may make more sense and the legend of old warriors going out into the cold may just have been put out to cover up the actual truth. 

With a winter lasting several years…if I had to guess, I would say about 13, there would have been an extreme shortage of food. Cannibalism is hinted at throughout the text, and it’s likely something that will be practice throughout Westeros when the Long Night falls again. The old warriors may have simply volunteered to be food for their family or forcibly used in this manner. The legend of them going out to hunt could have arisen to hide this truth.

If this was not the case, and the old warriors did indeed go out “hunting” as the legend states with the implication being they knew they wouldn’t return, one can argue that they knowingly went out to join with the Others. The question then becomes why.

EDITED SECTION BEGINS.

It is popularly believed that Dawn, the famous sword wielded by Arthur Dayne and other past Daynes as “Sword of the Morning,” is in fact the ancient house sword of House Stark that Catelyn mentions in her first chapter of A Game of Thrones.

"I am always proud of Bran," Catelyn replied, watching the sword as he stroked it. She could see the rippling deep within the steel, where the metal had been folded back on itself a hundred times in the forging. Catelyn had no love for swords, but she could not deny that Ice had its own beauty. It had been forged in Valyria, before the Doom had come to the old Freehold, when the ironsmiths had worked their metal with spells as well as hammers. Four hundred years old it was, and as sharp as the day it was forged. The name it bore was older still, a legacy from the age of heroes, when the Starks were Kings in the North. —AGOT, Catelyn I

The current familial sword of House Stark is just about 400 years old and is not the original. It is instead named after a sword from the Age of Heroes. Now what sword in the story could that be? Possibly one forged from the heart of a fallen star that landed at Starfall.

House Dayne, or more specifically their house sword will be central to the final events of the story. However, they are as mysterious as the Others. Not much is known about them as George says it would spoilery to reveal more. Nonetheless, we do know some things, like they are a First Men house.

At the mouth of the Torrentine, House Dayne raised its castle on an island where that roaring, tumultuous river broadens to meet the sea. Legend says the first Dayne was led to the site when he followed the track of a falling star and there found a stone of magical powers. His descendants ruled over the western mountains for centuries thereafter as Kings of the Torrentine and Lords of Starfall. —The World of Ice and Fire-Dawn: Kingdom of the First Men

We also know a little about their famous sword. It’s very similar to Valyrian steel except for one aspect.

The Daynes of Starfall are one of the most ancient houses in the Seven Kingdoms, though their fame largely rests on their ancestral sword, called Dawn, and the men who wielded it. Its origins are lost to legend, but it seems likely that the Daynes have carried it for thousands of years. Those who have had the honor of examining it say it looks like no Valyrian steel they know, being pale as milk glass but in all other respects it seems to share the properties of Valyrian blades, being incredibly strong and sharp.  —The World of Ice and Fire – Dorne: The Andals Arrive

We have a sword made from the heart of a fallen star and that is described as pale as milk glass unlike Valyrian steel, which is described as almost black, but is also made from a mysterious metal.

Tyrion wondered where the metal for this one had come from. A few master armorers could rework old Valyrian steel, but the secrets of its making had been lost when the Doom came to old Valyria. "The colors are strange," he commented as he turned the blade in the sunlight. Most Valyrian steel was a grey so dark it looked almost black, as was true here as well. But blended into the folds was a red as deep as the grey. The two colors lapped over one another without ever touching, each ripple distinct, like waves of night and blood upon some steely shore. "How did you get this patterning? I've never seen anything like it." A Storm of Swords, Tyrion IV

When you consider the two opposing factions of the story symbolized by the two moons in the sky, one ice, and the other fire, it makes sense to assume that the fallen star Dawn is said to be forged from was likely a piece of the icy moon that fell to earth in Dorne. On the other hand, Valyrian steel blades, including the first ever blade, which was likely the one used to kill Nissa Nissa, and which I believe to have been Blackfyre, are made from shards of the fire moon. 

The Qarthian myth tells us that many pieces of meteors from the fire moon fell to Planetos, which makes sense if that moon was destroyed or thrown out of orbit. Thus, it also makes sense that there are many more Valyrian steel blades around and likely hundreds more lost during the Doom of Valyria. However, the only meteor from the ice moon we’ve told fell to Planetos is the piece at Starfall.

As the quote up thread shows, Dawn is described as pale as milk glass several times in the text, one famous instance being the mysterious battle at the Tower of Joy that Ned remembers in his dreams.

"And now it begins," said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milk glass, alive with light. A Game of Thrones, Eddard X

Do you know what else in the text is described as pale as milk glass and or alive with light? You guess it…the Others and the swords they carry. Here is the description of the one killed by Sam.

Sam rolled onto his side, eyes wide as the Other shrank and puddled, dissolving away. In twenty heartbeats its flesh was gone, swirling away in a fine white mist. Beneath were bones like milk glass, pale and shiny, and they were melting too. Finally, only the dragonglass dagger remained, wreathed in steam as if it were alive and sweating. Grenn bent to scoop it up and flung it down again at once. "Mother, that's cold." A Storm of Swords, Sam I

And here is the description of the sword wielded by the one who attacks Waymar.

A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. "Come no farther," the lordling warned. His voice cracked like a boy's. He threw the long sable cloak back over his shoulders, to free his arms for battle, and took his sword in both hands. The wind had stopped. It was very cold. The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor. A Game of Thrones – Prologue.

Like Dawn, the Others are described as pale as milk glass and their swords are alive with light. What does all this information have to do with Dawn and the contradiction I mentioned about the Others?

Well, if Dawn was made from a piece of the ice moon, and is indeed the ancient familial sword of House Stark, who wielded it in the ancient past?

The Starks have a mysterious connection to the Others in their ancient past. Now we see the sword that potentially is the ancient blade of their house, might have been made from a piece of the ice moon, and has icy connotations in that it is described exactly as the Others are in the text. 

So again, who wielded the sword in the ancient past? Might it have been the Night’s King, and leader of the Others, who I’ve argued is the male progenitor of House Stark? I think the answer is quite likely yes…especially as it’s foreshadowed in the text that Jon will bear the sword in the future.

Now here is where the contradiction comes into play. The Others are said to come during the night. Some have even argued that they bring the night, but I don’t think that’s the case. But what happens to milk glass in the dark? If it was not clear to you in the alive with light references, George spells it out for you with Jorah’s words to Dany while they are in the Dothraki Sea.

"Here and now," Ser Jorah agreed. "You ought to see it when it blooms, all dark red flowers from horizon to horizon, like a sea of blood. Come the dry season, and the world turns the color of old bronze. And this is only hranna, child. There are a hundred kinds of grass out there, grasses as yellow as lemon and as dark as indigo, blue grasses and orange grasses and grasses like rainbows. Down in the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai, they say there are oceans of ghost grass, taller than a man on horseback with stalks as pale as milk glass. It murders all other grass and glows in the dark with the spirits of the damned. The Dothraki claim that someday ghost grass will cover the entire world, and then all life will end." That thought gave Dany the shivers. A Game of Thrones, Daenerys III

Now there is a lot of symbolism at play in that passage such as who are the spirits of the damned, that I will be exploring in a future essay. For now, I just want you to see how with Dany’s shiver, and description of the ghost grass, George wants pale as milk glass to be associated with the Others. And what does milk glass do in the dark, it glows.

This raises the question of why, if the Others are this destructive force to be overcome, George is positioning them, and their Night King leader, and the sword he quite likely bore as what one could call, beacons in the dark. 

Because that’s what Dawn is. It’s a herald in the dark. So why was a sword that heralds the end of the Long Night and the start of a new day wielded by the Night’s King, and leader of the icy Others? And why is it called Dawn and not say, Night, or maybe even Blackfyre? See what I mean about contradictions in the legend of the Others. 

Why was Dawn, the sword foreshadowed to be wielded by the leader of the battle for the dawn previously wielded by the Night’s King, because that’s what’s implied in George’s description of the sword and him comparing it to the Others.

So, what are your thoughts about the Others? Why do you think they are back and what is their role in the story…especially if they end up being led by Jon as I’ve proposed.

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Friday Everyone! Lets dive into our next ep.

1x05 'The Round-up'

Tim being excited about the round-up is actually pretty cute. He’s like a kid in a candy store. There’s an excited spark there it’s adorable. This clearly means a great deal to him. Shock surprise Tim Bradford is competitive. Who would've thunk?

Lucy is about to see the extent Tim is willing to go in order to win this competition. She's about to see a side to Tim she hasn't experienced yet. First would be his incredibly competitive side. She's about to see how serious he takes this. Second is a side that shocks her. Him being super nice and flirty with someone. Her reaction to seeing this is priceless. She has no idea who this person is with Nell but its not Tim LOL

Tim is giving it his all to Nell. Laying it on super thick. Lucy’s face as Tim flirts with her. I’m dying. She’s like who are you? And what have you done with Tim Bradford? Melissa's facial expression is killing me 😂 She must feel like she is on another planet while Tim works his magic.

Naturally she was quick to be on his ass about keeping it fair. Never misses a beat with him. Cracks me up. Always ready to speak her mind with him, this time she backtracks wasn't worth it to hang out in the drunk tank haha He's ready to do anything and everything to win this whether she's on board or not.

Even though she’s not supposed to be his ‘Pollyanna’ that doesn't stop her from bringing up Nell. She knows what he’s doing is wrong. Using his charm and good looks to get what he wants from her. He clearly thinks it’s harmless... Where she knows what he’s doing isn’t ok. She's doing more than just a 'Favor' Timothy and you know it.

He's always so defensive when's she’s calling him on his shit. Lucy has his number and he's still not used to it. So naturally he shuts down the convo before it can go any further. Goes right back into hard ass T.O. mode. Its a default for him when he's not wanting to deal with something with her. That tough love coming out in lieu of continuing with Lucy's line of questioning.

I couldn't find a gif set of the DUI call they get. But its a good scene for them. You see Lucy questioning Tim and his motives. Their suspect has been impaled and bleeding out. Tim reading his rights just until he about passes out. He demands to get a blood sample before he's loaded into the ambulance. Tim claims to get him in a jail cell and not to lose evidence.

She is wondering if he was trying to get their suspects blood because they should or because it was good for their score. When the man was bleeding out in front of them. It clearly shakes her when he tells her their suspect doesn't get a pass just because he got a boo-boo. Then tells her to put their score on the board once they get the blood. Which is conflicting her further. She’s not sure why he’s pushing so hard to win this thing.

They go to lunch after where Nolan only serves to piss her off LOL She’s clearly grumpy in the shop after her lunch talk with Nolan. So Tim tries to engage her and talk about the DUI they had. Reminding her that what they did was the right thing. That its their job pretty or not. It's all about ‘maintaining perspective.’ Right before they get their next call about a armored truck being stolen.

Her throwing his words right back at him shortly after they get this call is primo. I’ll always love how Lucy calls him on his crap no hesitation whatsoever. He tries to deter her with 'tough love' and all it does is spurn her on. I love their dynamic so much. She refuses to be anything but herself with him. Speaking her mind even when he clearly doesn't know what to do with it.

Naturally he replies defensively cause he’s not used to a worthy opponent like her. She returns fire with him no matter what. That part of their relationship is so key to them. Her challenging him. There was an article where Eric said ‘Lucy returns fire with care. ‘ 100% what she does. She's not afraid to fight this man who's clearly made other rookies tremble. He’s definitely never experienced this with any other rookie.

I love Talia and Angela rigging the competition for him. Their secret way of showing him they care, and know what this means to him. It's obvious to Lucy there is an emotional component to this for him. She just doesn't understand why. It's why she jumps in on the conversation.

Lucy of course thinking it might be better for his healing to lose. Not be so caught up in this. She’s always looking from the perspective of how to help Tim. How she can best protect his emotional stability. To her makes more sense to have him let it go.

Angela shuts it down with her reply. Lucy realizes this is cathartic for him whether he knows it or not. Then concedes to Angela’s point. Tim is clearly still a hot mess still when it comes to Isabel. To let him have one thing that doesn’t send him completely off the edge about her is huge. That look of realization is written all over Lucy's face. So she lets it go after that.

We get to the end and yay Tim and Lucy have “won” the competition. Tim owes Nell a drink. We do see Tim does grow in this ep. (Because of Lucy of course). Not that he is realizing that at this point. But he does realize she’s right and he’s been leading Nell on. Owns up to the hot mess he currently is and lets her know he’s married and it’s complicated. Her reply is hilarious ‘I don’t do complicated’ baha

~~~

Not really a lot of non chenford side notes for me in this one.

Just getting past the cringey post breakup stuff with Lucy and Nolan. Lucy nailed it at the beginning of the ep. ‘You were on the rebound from 20 year marriage this was never gonna last.’ Sure wasn’t one of many reasons it wasn’t going to.

Thank you all once again for the comments, likes and reblogs they do my heart wonders. Feel free to comment should you choose 😊 Do my best to get another ep or two done this weekend.

Till we meet again in 1x06 :)

Gif credit to the amazing blogs below.

Chenfordsource

Chenfordgifs

therookiecentral

[dargum]

001: First Impressions

PAIRING: hunter x OC

SYNOPSIS: where Zerith finds a strange boy in the forest while training and for some reason they keep meeting.

GENRE: slow burn, fluff, angst, crack

MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

Being the golden guard is not something simple, the job consumes me. Everyone needs my help or immediate presence everywhere. “Please me, and that way you will please the Titan, that is the priority of the golden guard”, “The Titan has big plans for you”, that’s what I constantly hear from Belos, those are the reasons that make me relevant, being an important part of the Titan’s plan. These are all the reasons why I always try to ace every task I am assigned, without any mistakes and always look for beating expectatives. I have to be useful. Even though i have all this responsibilities on me, being consumed by my job makes me not give my 100% to it, due to stress, so for work and only work related reasons, i find myself getting out of my room in my free hours to have time for relaxation, yes i may feel some guilt from it, but at the end of the day, it is an occasional -almost nonexistent- rest that helps me keep up the pace with my duties. For this very-important-for-my-duties-break I tend to go to “The Knee”.The cold weather and the snow offer a strange comfort, plus the silence that is only natural in a place like this helps even more with my relax duty.

Today the silence that tends to take over the place seems interrupted in a weird way, as I said; a place like this tends to not have tourists, and if there are they are never noisy, everybody knows that the Slither Beast lives here, fear is another of the reasons that keeps the Knee alone and peaceful. So the question here is, why does it sound like someone is trying to commit hate crimes against a tree?

I approach with caution towards the moving tree and now some screens come into the battle, against a tree? like seriously? That tree must be a criminal.

I have to make sure to keep a considerable distance to not get noticed by the tree slaughter, and get a good view of who it is. Against any prediction of mine, the tree fighter is actually a young lady, with a weird way of spelling, is definitely a completely different way of how I was trained to do. For her apparent age, she seems to be skilled.

Silence comebacks at my brain where i notice that my surrounding went back to it as well

And suddenly I feel my body strangely cold.

— Spying on people is pretty weird if you ask me — I try to look behind me, where the voice comes from, but I quickly realize that I'm trapped in some sort of ice rock, oh Titan please help me.

Kind of nervous i clear my throat to make sure that my most goldenish guard of the goldenish guardish voice comes out

— Who says that I'm spying on you? — Great, okay, lying is not exactly my greatest ability. I give up on trying to look over my shoulder, only to be met face to face with a girl hanging from a branch. Startled by this a not-so goldenish guardish squeal comes out from the depths of my soul. Titan why do you do this to me?

— Oh is that so?, cause i'm pretty sure that looking at someone from behind a tree without them knowing counts as spying, sir — Ok maybe that was not my best most smart move

— Actually it could count as stalking, so, do you have to say something in your defense?

I take a second to think about an answer, and when nothing comes to mind I just roll my eyes annoyed, because yes she is right, but why would she? — Don't you have something else to do?

Her smile only gets bigger — See?, i'm right — she gets down from the branch — Now give my a valid reason to ot let you trapped here for the rest of the day, maybe ill even use you for practice, who knows.

Now is my turn to smile as a clever enough answer comes to mind — Did you just admit that you want to use me? What kind of freak are you? — I give her a judging look but i am not able to hide my smile in front of her offended expression

— Its called torture

— So?, you like hurting people?, is that it?

— I don't do it cause i like it, It's a punish for being a total weirdo

— Punish?, oh yeah sure, keep hiding the fact that you want to see me suffer for your own satisfaction, freak. — I spit the last word, never dropping the same shit eating grin that she was giving me before, suddenly i lose all balance as i fall straight to the ground with an oof

— Oop, my bad, I have to work on durability— I take advantage of her distraction, reaching for my talisman. One strong swipe with it and I make her fall down onto her back, obviously a perfectly done move because I am just cool like that. Golden guard,  remember? I get up as quick as i can and point at her with my weapon

— So who will torture who now? i think i missed that —  I simply can’t help my smile teasing her like this, she gives me a dirty look as if something smells bad and an immature and frustrated hit to the ground, or that is what it looked like before that same punch raised a pilar from the ground i am standing on. After flying some meters back I manage to stand on my feet and before I can say anything she is already up and tidying her clothes.

— Nice reflexes.

— Nice spell — I run my hand on my cheek getting snow out of my face

— Well, it was nice meeting you but honestly, this isn't the weather to fight, you know?, doesn't the cold air burn your nose when you agitate?, weird right? — It is obvious how she walks back while making small talk.

— Why are you running away?, coward, only giving excuses

— Who are you calling a coward? stupid spy

— I wasn't spying on you! — I stomp my foot on the ground

— Yeah whatever Hunter

My expression drops to all seriousness, i look directly into her eyes with a slight frown

— How do you know my name?

 She shrugged with her shoulders — You have the face of a guy whose name would be Hunter

I blink in disbelief looking at her, there is absolutely no way she just guessed that.

Absolutely. No. Way. 

— Hey?, you okay?, i think i awake a weird trauma of yours, you know from your face, so i fell the responsibility of saying sorry, just in case you know

I blink awake — What are you saying?, i don't have traumas, is just weird that someone you never saw just guesses your name

— What can I say? i'm a genius

— Yeah, why not.

We stand in silence

— So are you gonna tell me your name?

— Hey, i guessed yours with honest effort you don't get to have me just tell you mine

I rolled my eyes at her childish argument

— Not even a clue?

— Nu uh

She started to walk away and eventually got onto her talisman. I waited until she got far enough to get onto mine and go to the palace. I sigh before taking off, surely a long day of work waits for me back there.

[ancientevangelions]

For the salty asks

9 10 11 12

Most disliked character(s)? Why? Gendo Ikari because he is an abusive father who is only really held accountable for his actions in End of Evangelion. Feeling bad for being abusive isn't an apology. Trying to kill the world is a pretty serious crime.

Most disliked arc? Why? I don't like the last Rebuild movie because it is heavy on escapism instead of trying to fix things/atonement. I hate deus ex machina-style endings; Everything is fixed and okay now, and everyone is happy . Me: real life takes work, accountability, community, etc. We won't heal the world by waiting for one person to save us; we must work together to make a better tomorrow.

Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn't? Why? It used ot be Ritsuko, but I think she's popular now. I find her much more relatable and likable as an adult.

Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn't? Why? Magma Diver is a good episode, and episodes 8-12 are essential to establish character background ties between Asuka, Shinji, Rei, and Misato. Plus, they showcase what the series would be like if the kids were able to work together without stress/pressure (well, less because they are still child soldiers) It sets up a lot of background information that will be important later.

Salty Ask List

gsut

What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?*

Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?*

Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?*

Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?*

Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*

Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?*

Have you received anon hate? What about?*

Most disliked character(s)? Why?

Most disliked arc? Why?

Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

Unpopular opinion about the manga/show?

If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen…

Does not shipping something ‘popular’ mean you’re in denial and/or biased?

What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?

What is the purest ship in the fandom?

What are your thoughts on crack ships?

Popular character you hate?

Unpopular character you love?

Would you recommend XXX to a friend? Why or why not?

How would you end XXX/Would you change the ending of XXX?

Most shippable character?

Least shippable character?

*several of these questions are taken from a list that was not rebloggable

[fiercynn]

ID: Cover of an article at Fikra Magazine published on April 17, 2024 by Nicki Kattoura. The headlines reads, "The Nameless Soldiers that Kill Us & the Palestinian Call for Abolition". There is an image of crowds in a street at night, perhaps at a protest, with a blurry image of a Palestinian flag in the foreground. The cover art is by Faris Treish. /end ID.

Israel’s campaign of ethnic cleansing has been relentless and vicious. Justice for the killing of an unquantifiable number of Palestinians is therefore unattainable. No dollar amount could satisfy victims’ families and no prison sentence could bring our martyrs back to life. No legal settlement or incarcerated soldier will reverse over 75 years of settler colonial apartheid (although it might be a welcomed punishment for some). This is why the Palestinian call for freedom has always been structural. We are not interested in reforming a brutal occupation, we are committed to abolishing it. That abolitionist response requires dismantling all its physical infrastructures, including checkpoints and the apartheid wall, and securing freedom of movement for Palestinians. It would require lifting the decades-long siege on Gaza. It would require disbanding the Israeli military and returning annexed territory to indigenous Palestinians. It would require all of us forced from our homeland by Zionism the right to return to our ancestral lands. Palestinians, who face the brunt of occupying violence every day, know this. It is precisely for this reason that they don’t demand the firing of killer soldiers. The demand has always been freedom. Abolition therefore opens up new strategic alternatives for Palestinian liberation, offering an alternative framework for delivering justice by concerning itself with the prevention of violence rather than punishment after the fact.  Abolition aims to identify and dismantle the structures and institutions of violence, removing the conditions that create martyrs in the first place. As abolitionist scholars Fred Moten and Stefano Harney explain, the goal is “[n]ot so much the abolition of prisons but the abolition of a society that could have prisons, that could have slavery, that could have the wage, and therefore not abolition as the elimination of anything but abolition as the founding of a new society.” This approach shares much with those Black revolutionaries that counter the limited liberal call to “arrest killer cops.” They recognize that charging Derek Chauvin did not save Tyre Nichols, or Walter Wallace Jr., or Tony McDade, or Ma’Khia Bryant, or George Floyd. As writer Derecka Purnell poignantly writes, “[e]very now and then, a conviction will slip through the cracks and people will celebrate, similar to how slave patrols were punished and sometimes sent to prison for their mistreatment of slaves. But, the underlying power to be violent will remain virtually unchanged and many more people will die because of it.” [x]

[manavamp7]

Short story I'm working on for class^_^

- not proofread

- (tw?)talks of blood,implied death

- all characters are ocs

- unfinished!!

- 1007 words

Footsteps In The Snow

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Luwin (pov)

A grunt escaped my cold chapped lips, my teeth chattered inside of my mouth, my usually pale cheeks were rosy and cold to the touch, and it felt as if my face were completely numb. Each step I took caused a loud crunch sound to be made, it feels like I'm stepping on a thousand tiny little needles as my bare feet hit the below freezing snow.

The hushed atmosphere of the night sky was eerie as there were no animals in sight at this time. It is winter after all, the dark hollow trees stood tall and their branches started to bustle as a heavy gust of wind caused me to topple over a bit. I steady myself by gripping tight onto the nearest tree trunk. Pieces of the bark get stuck under my nails. I let out a small huff as I tried to catch my breath. “I wish I were in Seifer's house at the moment… being in the cozy fire at his home sounds much more comforting than dragging heavy bags through this heinous snowstorm…,”. After a while dragging myself through the woods, I finally reached my destination, my parents' old cottage.

It was covered with snow and deep green colored vines. Cracks with wilted plants that had grown into them ran along the withered antiquated outside exterior. In a way it felt oddly comforting to be back at my childhood home, but that comfort quickly dissolved just as soon as it arrived once I remembered what I came here for. A grave expression etched my features as I shifted my gaze to the two hefty bags that I had dropped. I hurried myself back over to where I had set them down and dragged them behind the house to the cellar. Hastily, I start unwrapping them, and as soon as I do, a dark pool of metallic sanguinary seeps into the white frosty snow. Looking at their mangled corpses causes a wave of bliss to wash over me. Being able to have the honor of exterminating such evil souls in our village created a sense of pride in me.

Quickly, I take the key from the necklace that hangs around my neck, unlock the cellar, and toss the limp bodies down. “Ah… I hope he'll be happy. . .”

Seifer (pov)

Uneasiness settled in my stomach, my whole body felt so numb…so empty. It feels as if I have been continuously stabbed in the chest, I'm unable to breathe. There is just no way any of this is real. Luwin held me tightly in his arms, trying to shield me from the gruesome scene that lies before us. My parents, dead. Both of their bodies were positioned on the floor of our kitchen. Fresh crimson blood is splattered everywhere, coating our once beautiful and neat interior. My breath becomes shaky and I grip onto Luwin tighter, bile builds up in my throat. “How. . . how could anyone commit such a… a horrendous deed . .?”

The remaining tears that had collected in the corners of my eyes start to fall, I am unable to stop them as they soak into Luwins shirt leaving a dark patch on his shoulder. “Who would do such a thing? My parents were good people . . . they showed kindness to all in the village, they have done no wrong . . . so why would some wretched soul take them” I look up at Luwin. “Some people in the world are just cruel Seifer and there is nothing we can do about that.” Luwin lets out a sigh before backing away “come on, let's take you to Father Peregrine.”

After about ten minutes of walking we reach Father Peregrine's cottage. Luwin had explained the situation as I stood there with a hopeless expression on my face, unable to speak. “Oh your poor thing,” Fathers warm but slightly huff voice snaps me out of my trance, “Come inside I'll prepare you some tea.” I slowly trail behind the both of them. His home has always had a welcoming and cozy vibe to it, it's very comforting. I take a seat on the couch and Luwin stands beside me. “It seems that i'll have to leave you for a while i have to investigate the scene with the other detectives,” he pauses for a moment then looks at me with a soft gaze. “ You stay here and rest for the remainder of the day, today has been alot for you my friend.” Watching Luwin leave the residence causes a slight pain in my heart from the lack of his presence, but I do not let it show as Father Peregrine comes back with some biscuits and two cups of tea.

I suddenly awake from a noise outside, I find myself lying on the couch with a blanket draped over me. It seems I have fallen asleep, I dont remember that happening. I take a quick look outside the window and see that it is nightfall, carefully I take the blanket off and tip toe my way to the front door. I wish to see them one last time, i start my journey to visit my once cheerful home. Walking inside causes the reality of the situation to settle in. They are gone. They aren't coming back. I half expected my mother to engulf me in an embrace as soon as she saw me, but that won't be happening anymore.

The first thing I noticed wasnt the fact that our back door was open. But the lack of bodies that were supposed to be here. Confusion and fear are the only things I am feeling at the moment. Were they not dead after all? No.. their bodies were completely butchered, like wild animals. Where in the world are they ? It's like my mind was moving faster than I could speak, like I was overheating or buffering. But that's when I noticed the trail of blood leading to the open back door. . . I carefully stepped outside but all that was left were . . . the footsteps in the snow.