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saccharinesunsetretired · 2 years ago

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Yours, Anyway | Revivebur x Reader

Fun little piece I did for this event using one bed, forced proximity and a tiny bit of enemies to lovers as my trope prompts :) I don't know how good this is but I will cut myself some slack

Summary: Wilbur gets lost in a snowstorm after the destruction of the burger van. With frostbite, exhaustion, and desperation setting in, he ends up on your doorstep despite believing that you despise him. After all, what other choice does he have?

Warnings: Brief mentions of vomit, unhealthy eating habits and weight loss (Revivebur is not the healthiest guy)

Word Count: 4.6k

Minors DNI

The last thing Wilbur had wanted was to get caught in a snowstorm. After days of no sleep and hardly eating, it was the last thing he needed. Yet, there he was, knee-deep in the snow as wind whipped his face. His ears were nearly numb, (he cursed himself for not owning a hat) and his fingers were aching, the first sign of potential frostbite.

The plan had been to make it to Phil’s house. After the…incident at the burger van—now a pile of rubble—Wilbur needed a place to stay, to lick his wounds and relax while attempting to assuage his guilt. The weather had other plans.

He braced himself against the wind, pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders. He would have buttoned it, except all the buttons were slightly loose and would probably have popped off had he tried. Considering this was his only coat, he couldn't afford to ruin it. With the combination of the wind blowing his hair into his eyes and the snow hitting the side of his face, he could hardly see ten feet in front of him.

However, he could see a light in the snowstorm, the warm glow of a fireplace through a cabin window. “Finally,” he murmured under his breath, his words immediately carried away by the harsh winds. As he approached, however, he realized this wasn’t Phil’s cabin at all. It was yours.

Wilbur’s relationship with you was…tense, to say the least. You had struck up a friendship with Phil and Technoblade after Wilbur’s death, becoming a member of the Syndicate and training under their guidance. You’d heard about Wilbur, of course, the man who betrayed his friends and reduced his own country to rubble. The man who, in your eyes, repeatedly took advantage of his father’s kindness and resources, only to squander any opportunity at bettering himself. You had become protective of Phil, viewing Wilbur as a threat to his father’s well-being. While he couldn’t always disagree, Wilbur’s bitterness toward you hadn’t faded in the slightest. After all, what did you know about his relationship with his father? Who were you to judge him?

When he recognized that the cabin was yours, he nearly kept walking. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make heads or tails of where he was. He knew Phil and Techno’s cabin couldn’t be far, but he didn’t know which direction he was looking in. He had no compass and no map, and even if he did, it would be nearly impossible to use them in this weather.

Despite his reservations, he found himself knocking on your door. With any luck, you wouldn’t toss him out the second you saw him.

The door opened. Wilbur could feel the warmth radiating from inside, and it was tempting to shove his way in despite any protest you might have. However, he refrained, meeting your eyes instead.

“What are you doing here?” you asked. Despite the harshness of your tone, Wilbur couldn’t help but be mesmerized. You were far from being friends with him, but despite that, he found himself drawn to you. You were tough, principled, independent. Unlike him, you didn’t need to rely solely on the kindness and leniency of others to keep yourself afloat. He envied you for that. Ever since his revival, it seemed that all he did was survive off other’s pity.

But you didn’t pity him. You treated him as a person. And even though the two of you didn’t like each other, he was drawn to you. It wasn’t surprising to Wilbur. He’d always been attracted to things that were bad for him.

“Was trying to get to Phil’s,” Wilbur said. “Got lost.”

“I can see that.” Your eyes narrowed at him. “What do you want?”

“Shelter. Obviously.” Wilbur motioned to the flurry of wind and snow behind him. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a storm going on. A pretty significant one. And I don’t exactly have proper winter gear.”

“And whose fault is that?” you asked sarcastically. “Maybe, instead of mooching off your father, you should’ve gotten yourself a place. Somewhere that you won’t get caught in a snowstorm by yourself.”

“Yeah,” Wilbur replied tersely. “I get it. Look, can I please come inside? Just for a bit, to warm up until the storm is over, or at least has died down.” He shivered, a little more than he actually felt the need to, just to show you how cold he was. Wilbur had become good at evoking pity.

There was no pity in your expression, however. “Are you armed?” you asked. Wilbur shook his head. “Good.”

To his relief, you stepped aside, allowing him to enter the cabin. He was hit with a wave of warmth. He closed his eyes, standing just inside your cabin and soaking it in. He heard the soft click of the front door being closed, and he opened his eyes as you walked past him further into the cabin.

Once his eyes were open, he took a moment to absorb his surroundings. The cabin was simple, only two rooms. He could see the fireplace in the center of the room, made of stones cobbled neatly together. A small pile of firewood sat to the left of the fireplace, logs ready to be burned in order to keep the place blissfully warm. There was a window beside the front door, the one he’d seen while stuck out in the snow. You had a bookshelf as well, full of neatly placed books and some random objects that you’d found on your travels. A cushioned loveseat sat in front of the fireplace, and beside that sat a comfortable-looking chair. To his left was a small room—most likely a bathroom—and tucked against the wall was a bed. On the opposite end of the room was a kitchen, stocked with the bare necessities. A table sat in the corner, only big enough for three people, perhaps four if you tried hard enough.

It wasn’t a large, luxurious place, but it was comfortable. It reminded him of his childhood, spent in small homes and cabins similar to this one. “Nice place,” Wilbur said. “I’ve seen it from the outside, but I’ve never gone in.”

“You’re right,” you said. “And there’s a reason for that.” You turned your back to him, walking over to the kitchen. Wilbur watched as you filled a glass of water and handed it to him.

Wilbur took the glass, confused. “Then why let me in? Why help me?”

“As much as I dislike you,” you replied, “I think Phil would be pretty upset with me if I left his son to die in a snowstorm.”

“You dislike me? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Then you’re even dumber than I thought.” You looked Wilbur up and down. “You look like shit.”

It was true. He still had ash clinging to his coat from the burger van incident. The bags under his eyes had become more pronounced, and he hadn’t eaten in ages, which he figured must be evident based on the way you were looking at him. “Thanks,” he replied simply. He took a sip of the water you gave him. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until he took a sip, and the glass was emptied in less than thirty seconds.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” you asked.

“A while. Why?”

“You’re just going to throw up all that water if you don’t eat,” you said. “Your body won’t absorb it.”

Wilbur didn’t mention that eating often went poorly for him since he came back from the dead. It was as if his body knew he wasn’t supposed to be alive, that his time was supposed to be up. If he ate too much or too quickly, he often felt nauseous. He’d thrown up more than once by not being careful and eating too fast. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. “I don’t exactly carry a meal on me at all times,” he said.

“Sit down,” you said. “I’ll make you something.” He looked at you in disbelief. “Are you going to sit, or you going to stand there and stare at me?”

“I’ll sit.” Wilbur glanced around the room. “Do you want me to take my boots off?”

“Just set them by the door,” you said. Your back was already turned to him again, gathering ingredients to make him something to eat. “You can hang your coat up as well.”

“Thanks.” He did as you said, removing his worn, leather boots as well as his coat. He cringed at the sight of it, the coat that had carried him through Pogtopia, through the afterlife, and all the way to your front door. It had seen better days.

Actually, he supposed it hadn’t. He’d only started wearing it when he was cast into exile from his own nation. The only version of himself that wore that coat was the version that was broken, fractured into a million pieces. The coat had only ever belonged to a man who felt like the shell of his former self. The man who hurt everyone he loved.

He shook the thoughts away and hung up the coat next to one of yours before walking into the kitchen area, trying not to let the guilt consume him. He sat at the table, perching himself on one of the wooden chairs. “The chairs look handmade,” Wilbur pointed out. “Reminds me of the ones my dad made for the house I lived in as a kid.”

“He taught me how to build,” you replied. Your eyes were focused on your work. “Helped me assemble the chairs. And the table, for that matter.”

“So you’re my dear old dad’s new kid then, huh?” Wilbur asked. “His new project.”

You rolled your eyes. “Your jealousy is showing, Wilbur. It’s not a good look on you.”

“How would you know? You’re not even looking.”

You turned toward him. His breath caught in his throat. In the dim light of the kerosene lamps that lit your cozy cabin, you looked practically ethereal. At first, he thought you were going to say something, but you faltered and turned back to your work.

Moments passed in silence. Wilbur tapped his fingertips lightly on your kitchen table, a nervous habit. Before long, a bowl was placed in front of him.

It was oatmeal, sprinkled with some brown sugar. There were fresh berries in it as well, berries that he figured you’d likely picked yourself. “Thank you,” he said. He hadn’t had oatmeal since L’Manberg. The thought made his throat feel like it was closing up.

“You’re welcome.” To his surprise, you sat at the table with him. He felt unnerved by your proximity. If he scooted a few more inches to the left, his elbow would brush against yours.

He feared that one touch from you would be his undoing.

He ate a few bites of oatmeal, resisting the urge to devour it. Instead, he ate slowly and carefully, trying to appease his sensitive, post-revival stomach. He could feel your eyes on him even when he wasn’t looking at you, and he tried to ignore it. You, unfortunately, were very hard for him to ignore.

It didn’t take long for him to finish the oatmeal, despite him trying his best to eat slowly. The second he was finished, the bowl was lifted and carried to the sink by you. His eyes followed your movements, then looked away as you turned back toward him.

“Better?” you asked.

Wilbur nodded. “Much better. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome again.” To his surprise, you smiled at him. He’d seen you smile, but never due to something he’d said or done. The sight was a pleasant one. “I didn’t know if you were capable of being polite,” you said. Your tone was more teasing than malicious.

“What can I say? I’m a regular gentleman.” Wilbur returned your smile with one of his own. He felt an unexpected pang of guilt. Multiple times, you had scolded him for taking advantage of Phil’s resources and generosity, and here he was, proving you right by doing the same thing to you. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, attempting to assuage his guilt by asking if he could help you in some way to return the favor.

“Yeah, actually,” you said. “You can go take a shower. You’re stinking up my cabin.” Once again, the words were said in a way that were more indicative of banter rather than malice. Wilbur wasn’t sure what to make of your kindness.

“Can do,” Wilbur said. “A shower sounds…wonderful, actually.” He’d washed himself off recently, of course, but hadn’t had a proper shower. He didn’t have access to one. “Except I don’t have any other clothes with me.”

“Phil lent me some of your old ones once,” you said. “Mine got dirty.”

“How did you manage to get so dirty that Phil needed to lend you my clothes?” Wilbur asked, amused.

“Sparring practice,” you replied. “Technoblade kicked my ass, and I ended up in the mud.”

Wilbur snorted. “Sounds like Technoblade.”

“Don’t worry, I got him back for it later.” You walked over to your dresser and shuffled through the drawers before pulling out some clothes. Wilbur recognized them—an old, gray sweater, a pair of sweatpants. He hadn’t seen those clothes in ages. He wasn’t even aware that Phil had kept any of his old clothes. “Bring these with you into the bathroom,” you said. “There’s a blue towel hung up in there that hasn’t been used. The shower water takes a minute to warm up, and you can’t stay in there too long. Waste of water.”

“Got it.” Wilbur stood up and gently took the clothes from your hands. “Thanks.”

“Enjoy your shower,” you said.

“I will.” The notion of warm water on his skin sounded heavenly to Wilbur. He was still chilled from being outside in the storm. The second the bathroom door was closed behind him, he was stripping himself of his clothing and turning on the water. Just as you’d warned him, it took a moment for the water to warm up, but as soon as it did, he stepped into the shower.

The water felt so good that he could cry. He scrubbed every inch of his body, lathering himself in more soap than was probably necessary just because he could. He washed his hair, working his fingers through all the knots and tangles. By the time he was done, he felt brand-new. Plus, he smelled like you, now, like lavender and honey.

He got dressed and exited the bathroom. When he stepped out, you were sitting in bed, dressed in your pajamas, flipping through a book. You looked up from your book at Wilbur, still damp from the shower. “You look better when you’re clean,” you said.

“I feel better when I’m clean.” Truthfully, Wilbur dreaded having to leave, having to carry his dirty clothes, to put on his boots that were nearly worn through and his coat with loose seams. He dreaded the walk to Phil’s house, and he dreaded the moment he would have to tell Phil that he’d ruined everything. Again.

One day, you would hear about it, and once again, your scorn would be tossed in his direction. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind. Right now, things were peaceful. Surely, he deserved a bit of peace for a while longer.

“I bet you do.” You watched Wilbur, who looked unsure, not quite knowing where to sit or what to do. To his surprise, you scooted over. “Sit.”

He obeyed, sitting on the bed and crossing his legs. His eyes drifted toward the window. The snow was still coming down hard, flakes of it hitting the window. “Do you think this will let up before morning?” he asked. You were so close to him that the two of you were nearly touching. He could almost feel your warmth, so close and yet so very unattainable.

“It’s not likely. My guess is you won’t be able to leave until the sun comes up.” You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “I would suggest that you take the couch, but it’s just a loveseat, and considering how freakishly tall you are I doubt you’d fit on it.”

Wilbur couldn't help but laugh a little. “I could take it anyway. It’s just one night.” At least he’d be warm, he figured.

“One more problem,” you said. “I don’t have extra blankets.”

Wilbur blinked a few times. “You live in the arctic. How do you not have extra blankets?”

You shrugged. “Never needed them. It’s not every day some guy shows up asking for a place to sleep.”

Wilbur, despite trying to shove his pride away, couldn’t help but say something. “‘Some guy’, huh?” Despite intending to joke, his tone came out sounding needlessly defensive. He cringed at his own words.

“Ah, right,” you replied. “You’re the infamous ex-president of L’Manberg turned burger van owner. That’s quite the name you’ve built for yourself.” Your tone wasn’t teasing anymore. It was back to reprimands.

“If you dislike me so much, why are you letting me stay here? I feel like one second, you don’t hate me, and the next, you want me gone again. Why?” Wilbur watched you intently, trying to read every shift in your expression.

“Because one second,” you retorted, “you’re pleasant to be around, and the next, I remember what a self-important dick you are.”

“I’m self-important?” Wilbur laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. He watched as you got off the bed, clearly not wanting to sit next to him any more. Even as he spoke, he could tell that he was about to take it too far. As usual, though, he just couldn’t stop himself. “Have you seen yourself? You show up out of nowhere, make friends with Technoblade and my father, and now you think you’re so special because they let you join their book club. It’s pathetic.”

“Oh, look who’s talking,” you snap. “Poor, poor Wilbur Soot, showing up on people’s doorsteps in the snow reeking of ash and body odor, relying on other people’s generosity. Do you not realize how pathetic you look to everyone else? Everyone is either scared because you’re a ticking time bomb or sad because you’re so pitiful.” You crossed your arms. “Like I said, I helped you because I can’t in good conscience turn you away after Phil has been so kind to me. That’s it. It’s not because I like you. It’s not because I care. It’s because of who you’re related to. So maybe, just maybe, you should grow the fuck up and realize that you only get so many second chances.”

Wilbur stared at you for a moment, your words slowly sinking in. He’d had the same revelation himself the moment the adrenaline from the burger van incident wore off. All he had done since he was revived was fuel a petty rivalry and get people hurt. And for what? For a desperate power grab that was doomed to fail. For a sense of control that he’d lost long before his death, a sense of control he may never have possessed in the first place.

“You’re right,” he said slowly. His eyes met yours. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.” He should have known that he wouldn’t be able to outrun the guilt forever. It always came back, like a dog on a lead that he wished he could just let go of. And there I am being selfish again he thought to himself. Wishing I didn’t feel guilty for the things I deserve to feel guilty for.

You shook your head. “It’s not me you need to apologize to. I’m not one of the people you’ve hurt.”

Wilbur nodded and looked away. He felt the bed shift as you sat back down, arms still folded, eyes fixed on him. “Yeah, I know.” He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. “I know that I’ve been selfish. Selfish and prideful and careless. And I know that…that you have good reason to not like me. I’ve hurt and taken advantage of people that you care about. I doubt I would like me much either if I were you.”

A moment of silence passed, and Wilbur’s eyes reopened to look at you and gauge your reaction. “How do I know you’re not saying this because you know it’s what I want to hear?” you asked.

Wilbur shook his head. “You don’t. I guess you have to trust me. And I know how stupid that sounds, but it’s the truth.”

“…So what are you going to do?” You asked.

“I’m going to apologize,” Wilbur replied. “I’m going to try and make things right, to make amends as best I can.” He hesitated before speaking again, unsure how much he should say to you. “I apologized to a few people when I first got revived, but it wasn’t…earnest. I wanted to be forgiven. I wanted people to forgive and forget and move on.”

“And what do you want now?” Your tone became softer, quieter. You looked at him with a look of curiosity, sympathy, even.

“Closure,” Wilbur replied. “For the people I hurt. And maybe, one day, for me.” He gazed at you, you, who was so much stronger than he had ever been or ever would be. “Are my answers to your satisfaction?”

“Are they to yours?” Your shoulder brushed against his, and Wilbur hadn’t realized how much he craved someone’s touch—anyone’s touch—until this very moment.

“I think so.” Wilbur went quiet, deep in thought. “For what it’s worth, I admire you. You came here, joined the Syndicate, made a name for yourself. I’ve seen you spar with Technoblade, and it’s impressive. And Phil speaks highly of you.” He paused. “You're doing well for yourself."

The silence that filled the room was long. Just as Wilbur was about to speak again, you spoke for him. “The storm stopped.” You tilted your head toward the window, motioning for Wilbur to look. Sure enough, the storm was over. Snow was no longer falling, and the world outside the cabin looked still and calm.

“Looks like it.” Wilbur made no move to get up, not wanting to move from his spot on your warm bed. He knew he had to at some point, that you were bound to kick him out, so he soaked up every second he could get.

“For what it’s worth,” you said suddenly, “I don’t think you’re a bad person.” He turned around to look at you. “And…and I don’t think Phil is blameless in all of this. You may have asked him to kill you, but he shouldn't have done it.”

“I deserved it,” Wilbur said. He tried to focus on the crackle of the logs in the fireplace rather than the soft sounds of your breathing beside him. “You may not have been there, but you know all about it. You know what I did. And now Ranboo got hurt because of me, and I…” He realized that his fists were clenched, and before he could un-clench them, he felt the soft weight of a hand over his own. He looked at you in surprise.

“What happened to Ranboo?” you asked softly, your hand gently holding his.

Wilbur swallowed. It was hard enough to talk about this, but confessing this to you while you were being gentle with him felt impossible. He never wanted that touch to go away. “He, uh, lost a life,” Wilbur says quietly. “We set up this—this stupid trap for Quackity, and everything went wrong, and Tubbo was going to get hurt, so Ranboo sacrificed himself.” Wilbur squeezed his eyes closed, waiting for the reprimand.

You sighed. “Wilbur, I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“It’s a lot. I know.” To his surprise, your hand was still there, resting atop his.

“Whatever else happens, you need to apologize to him for dragging him into your shit,” you said. “And you should definitely apologize to Tommy. From what I’ve heard, the kid has gone through hell for you.”

Wilbur felt his heart squeeze in his chest, felt the guilt weighing him down. “I know.” He laughed, but the sound was empty and self-pitying. “Still think I’m a good person?”

“I never said you were a good person. I just said you’re not a bad one. And I stand by that.”

“You also said that I only get so many second chances.”

“I did.” You squeezed his hand gently, and he un-clenched it, properly taking your hand in his. He reopened his eyes, finally having the courage to look at you. “I don’t think you’re out of second chances yet. I think you have time.”

Wilbur faltered. “What if I don’t deserve that?”

You shrugged. “Whether you deserve it or not, you have it anyway.”

Wilbur felt his throat close up, tears threatening to build up in his eyes. He was so tired, so tired and so ashamed that it felt like it could kill him. And there you were, someone who didn’t even like him, showing him kindness anyway. He wanted to say thank you, but he feared that he’d sob the minute he opened his mouth.

“Stay,” you said softly. “You’re not dressed to go back outside in this. I’ll take you to Phil’s tomorrow.”

Wilbur didn’t have it in him to fight you, nor did he want to. He managed a nod and watched as you let go of his hand and slid under the covers. The second your hand left his, he felt the absence of it. “Not tired yet?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Very tired,” he replied.

“Under the covers, then.” Wilbur complied despite his nerves. The nerves disappeared, however, as soon as he was warm under the blankets. He sighed with relief, happy to be in a proper bed instead of a ratty mattress in the corner of the now-destroyed burger van.

Once he was comfortable, he became hyper aware of each of your movements, every small shift and breath. “You didn’t do all of this just because I’m Phil’s son, did you?” he asked quietly.

“Unfortunately for me, I have a bit of a soft spot for you,” you confessed. “Despite you being a careless idiot.”

“Thanks…I guess.” He stared at the ceiling for a few moments before turning on his side. You were on your side as well, facing away from him. “I’ll try to be less of a careless idiot in the future.”

“And I will believe it when I see it.” He couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at your words.

“Fair enough.” Wilbur relaxed even more, unable to stop looking at you, even if all he could see was the back of your head. “Thank you, by the way. Genuinely. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.” Slowly, you reached a hand back, tugging gently at the front of his shirt.

Wilbur laid there, confused. “Wait, do you want me to-“

“Yeah. Get over here.” Wilbur hesitantly scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “See? Cozy.”

“Yeah.” Wilbur was grateful you couldn’t see his face. He was willing to bet that he looked just as flustered as he felt. He wanted to question you, ask why you wanted him like this, but he felt he already knew the answer.

He wasn’t sure that he deserved your affection, but he had it anyway. And that was enough.

#The Common Fanfiction Trope Writing Event #The CFT Writing Event #revivebur x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #saccharine writes

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toiletwipes · 2 years ago

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PIECES | vampire! wilbur

Part 1 — I'm here again

Summary: There's a vampire, wandering and mourning for a love that died by his hands. He wanders and drifts along the universe until the love has found him.

In this part, we meet Wilbur, a man turned into a vampire and the love he has for someone.

THIS FIC IS PART OF THIS EVENT! [The Common Fanfiction Trope Writing Event] Mainly mainly for oblivious pining! i bet i could squeeze friends to lovers in this though.

[Warnings: blood, mention of death and killing, the usual vampire stuff]

~2.6k words.

title and chapter title from the song pieces by red

———

He walks. For a long time in his life, it was all he ever did. He would walk and walk, never really needing to stop. Walked until there were no sidewalks, until there was only dirt. Till he tilted his head up and was unable to recognize the stars above him. And then he’d continue. One foot after the other.

There was never a reason to stop walking, other than to stop and feed but that was getting rarer and rarer. Starving himself wasn’t ideal but with how often he walked and how often he would walk miles without noticing it, his head somewhere else. In a different time and under a different set of stars. But starving himself was the only right thing to do, nowadays. Sure, the hunger was unbearable… if he was focused on the present.

And then… one day while he was walking, it's late at night and he entered a new town, one he hadn’t been in before. He doesn’t know why, why he stops walking for the first time in a week, why he stops and turns his head but when he does, the wind is knocked out of him, his chest tightening in knots when he sees your face.

His first victim, the first drop of blood came from you. Your death solely defined his role as a monster. It was his one regret out of all of this- becoming an eternal nightmare, cursed forever to starve and ache and burn under the heavens while everyone else lived and breathed and loved and died. Becoming this only happened because he was too weak to stay away from you, starved himself of his nature, starved himself of you.

Your death had been the nail in the coffin.

And yet.

There you stood, in an old diner, taking orders and serving drinks and meals. A smile on your face while you did it. Talking and walking and breathing and… alive.

And he hasn’t fed in a while. Couldn’t bring himself to, stuck in the useless cycle of why bother? And he could feel it in his throat, the unbearable itching, the burning. The empty pit in his stomach. It almost was too much, all of these feelings and seeing your face. Seeing you and hearing you and only able to feel the hunger consuming him. He fled the scene, hiding behind a building, and sucking down on the rats that didn’t scurry away fast enough.

An older woman had opened the door next to where he had slid down. “Oh, there you are, Wilbur, I told you not to come through the back again, there’s rats out here darling.” He ends up realizing she’d mistaken him for her grandson or someone else, but she drags him in anyways. The rats had been enough to curb the hunger, and he let her take him inside of her home. She gives him free reign of the bathroom, handing him clothes that weren’t torn to shreds by the course of time and the elements.

When he looks in the mirror, he finds a creature of extreme camouflage. A monster that blends in so well, you’d almost be entranced by the sight of him alone. The clothes are loose, they hang off him like he has no meat, and to be fair, he doesn’t have a healthy diet, but they fit well enough. And when he helps her into bed, tucks her in and closes the door behind him, he thanks her quietly and hopes her grandson makes it home safe so she won’t be alone in the morning.

Standing outside, freshly scrubbed and in a set of clothes that don’t belong or smell like him, he feels like an imposter, a wolf in sheep’s clothing if you will. He looked closer to normal and human, to something less dangerous than before. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

He finds himself heading to the diner again, unable to help himself. Were you a hallucination? Were you a dream, a mirage in the distance with his hunger caving his mind in on itself? A horrible trick to get him to slip up and fall at the hands of a well-sharpened stick?

Didn’t matter because before he could begin to think of an escape route, a bell slams against the door-frame as he steps through, the lights sting his eyes and he barely manages to seat himself in the corner with the light bulb out. It’s just a shade darker but that’s all he needs. And before he could register it happening, he sees your face, the light framing your face as if an angel to take him away. He can hear your voice clearly, asking him about his night and such as you pour him a glass of coffee. The steam rises as you nudge it closer to him. “Need anything just call for me,” you wink, tapping at the name tag pinned to your shirt. You are the one and the same in every possible way, and it's haunting.

He leaves after a few minutes, sure that had he been alive, the only thing he would hear is his heart pounding in his chest and the blood rushing to his ears but the worst part, is that he could only hear yours. Everyone else has been drowned out by how loud you are, how noisy your life is. It’s as if you’ve built a neon sign pointing at yourself, calling out for every bloodthirsty being to come and claim your soul. Maybe that’s just him. Maybe this is his personal hell. Maybe he was supposed to live through this and find it painful.

He knows he’s a sick bastard, but he didn’t know how sick he was until he returned the next night.

He returns for a week straight until another vampire catches him before going in, taking him to their place and telling him he needs to go eat, to change clothes, and to do something because he’s attracting a lot of attention for someone laying low.

So he shackles up with him, gets clothes with him less he wants to get caught wearing something from thirty years ago. Time is fast, these days, you can’t blame him for not paying attention to the fashion.

The eating part is hard. Because every bone in his body, every inch of his skin wants to see you. Wants to taste your blood, the sick part of him wants to know if you’d taste just as good as you did the first time. He wants to know what’s changed and what hasn’t but so far the only thing that’s changed is that you’re alive and you don’t know him at all.

He could survive it, he survived your death, he could survive your rebirth.

That is, until you caught him behind the diner, blood smeared over his clothes and six feet from the back door. He insisted on no doctors which frustrated you, he could tell, but despite the freezing temperature his body is always set at, you drag him inside. Unaware of the dead body tossed carelessly in the dumpster behind the two of you.

You sit him in the bathroom, wiping the blood from his face and demanding that he take his shirt off of his body. You even turned around, a dangerous endeavor with a creature like him. Alas, he just fed so he… felt normal. Enough. Normal to pretend that he’s a human for a brief moment and normal enough to pretend that he doesn’t want to tilt your body into his, to nudge your head to the side and kiss it like he used to. To smear praise and worship over your skin, to taste the salt off your skin and hear you call his name.

It’s times like these that he reminds himself, he’s not alive, you’re not you, the one he knew, the one he killed, and that you’re waiting on him.

You take great care of looking him over, checking for any open wounds and despite not finding any, you bravely asked if taking his pants off would be too much. He almost felt dizzy.

He puts his shirt back on and lets you tug him back to his corner, pouring him a coffee and letting him be with a soft touch to his shoulder, throwing a stern look over your shoulder as you tended to your other regulars.

He tries drinking the coffee, just to try, just to feed into his delusion if not a little bit.

He found himself back in the bathroom ten minutes later, gagging as the coffee forcefully left through his throat. It burned his mouth and throat as he sat back on his heels, trying to steady himself. You come in seconds later, brushing his hair back and feeling his forehead. The sensations are nauseating and making him lean into your touch, into your body. His nose is pressed against your apron waist as you try to talk to him.

After unsuccessfully trying to get him to call someone he knew, which, wasn’t that a funny new thing, calling and phones? He tried to laugh, though he could only let out a pathetic sigh, feeling weak.( And he fed on some poor stranger. He’s a monster, and not even a good one, at that.) But when you finally realized he wasn’t going to be any help, you heaved him out of the bathroom and took him to the back, sat him against the wall. You crouched in front of him, pushing his hair out of his forehead and looking him over, “I have one more hour and then- then I’ll. I’ll- fuck, I’ll figure something out but you’re sick and you should get checked out by a doctor or something.” And when he could only respond with a noncommittal hum, you sighed, your head dipping down.

Picking yourself back up, he can barely watch through the slits of his eyes your disappearing figure. He tried to call your name, in the language he once knew, but his mouth barely opened. And when he blinked his eyes open again, there stood the other vampire in the area. He pulls on the collar of his shirt, tugging him forward and onto his knees. “You trying to get us killed, there are hunters-” he cuts himself off, looking around, before he stares him in the eyes. “Listen to me. We’re getting you to my place, fixing you up, and you’re gonna get out of here, no more lolly-gagging and no more dilly-dallying, do not pass go and do not collect 200-” he speaks while he’s slinging him over his back. Assuming he checked for nobody watching the two of them, the vampires make an escape.

He wants to know what you think when you go back there to get him, already to go home and relax or whatever humans do nowadays, and you find him gone. He wants to know what you’d think, what you’d say. He knows it’s bad. Bad to be this obsessed already but you haunt him, every night he could dream, those he just recently found out he could have, you’d be in there. Sleeping until you’re not, smiling at him with this emotion in your eyes, fingers stroking his cheek and jaw and running your hands through his hair.

When the other vampire drops him onto the couch, he throws something squishy at him. He smells it before he even opens his eyes. It’s blood.

He just had some.

“You’re malnourished, unsocialized. You need to talk to people, yes, but they need to be like us.” The very helpful vampire grounds out. Like us, dead, crystallized in a beautiful tomb of eternal suffering. Monsters till the end of time. While he tears the corner of the blood bag open, he tries not to think about how refreshed he feels. He tries to not think too hard about how he would never enjoy blood like he enjoyed yours. It’s the only semi-clear memory he has of drinking blood from people. They’re few and far in between instances, and he doesn't like it. But it happens. And the only time he ever enjoyed it, had been— horribly— yours. The sweet and nectarine taste, soothing his throat, the high he’d been on, how full he felt- of course, that all attributed to the fact he practically mauled your throat and drained you till you died in his arms.

This is his defining moment as a monster.

Of course— he would’ve left immediately, he had some blood, felt normal enough, changed clothes and when he looked in the mirror, he looked more human than he had the last time he checked.

And when he was asked what his name was by the vampire, he didn’t think about it for long, choosing to stick with what he knew. “Wilbur,” he said, turning to the window. They’d gone so high up, he wondered when did the humans ever begin to fly, how did they get here? He was curious but as he pulled away from the window and dragged to a shop, for the purpose of an ID- he doesn’t know why, he’s left to fend for himself.

He begins walking again, and against the wishes of the very same vampire who’s clothed, fed and identifies him, he knows where he starts to walk.

“Your name is Wilbur Soot,” he recalls the vampire telling him, “you’re just passing through, making his way home. And if someone knows about, you know- your condition, show them this.” He looks down to the business card the vampire had given him. “They’ll help you. This is all I can do for you.” He walks and keeps putting one foot in front of the other until it takes him to a diner. Your diner.

“You scared me last night,” you murmur to him, reaching over to give him a one-arm hug with a tray stabilized on your other hand. “How did you even leave?” He knows, he just doesn’t know what to tell you. After following you to an empty table, you make your rounds to the other customers before you return to him. “Did you at least see a doctor?”

He licks his mouth before looking up to you, finding it easy to lose himself in your eyes, your expression. Eyebrows pinched together from concern and a frown as you continued to wait for an answer.

“I… I didn’t eat enough and the coffee just didn’t sit right, I suppose.” He wonders if you believed him.

“You supposed? There was literal blood when you were puking.” Your name is called and you call back over your shoulder. You press your lips into a firm line, staring him down. He wonders, if it helps that after aching for you for so long, he would be satiated for the rest of his life, enough to leave you behind and truly keep you safe this time. “You’re fine now?” He nods, he’d never be fine. He’ll be a monster longer than you’d ever be alive, but for your sake, he nods. You tap your fingers on the tray as you quickly think, “we’re not done talking about this,” you warn him, pointing a finger at him in warning as you walk away from him.

And well, his heart almost leapt out of his chest, bloody tendons connecting it to him, but safely tucked away in your hands, he could see the metaphorical lines thin themselves out as you disappeared behind a door.

He comes to grips with himself and realizes he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satiated. Not when you care so freely, not when you are breathing and living and existing again. Not when you pass him by and squeeze his shoulders as you go.

He knows for a certainty he’ll be alive for many more centuries, he’ll stay this way, needing the living’s blood to make sure he doesn’t wither away. He knows that for an absolute certainty… but he doesn’t know if he could survive the separation from you again.

He knows he wouldn’t want to.

#au: vampire #c: wilbur soot #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fanfiction #The Common Fanfiction Trope Writing Event #The CFT Writing Event

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theobscurepotato · 8 months ago

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Dear Yuletide Writer 2024

Dear Yuletide Writer:

First off, thank you! I hope you are as excited about your assignment as I am to receive it. Hopefully the lateness of my Yuletide letter didn’t panic you too much! I enjoy a wide variety of fic, and these are truly some of my favorite canons, so really you can’t go wrong...but if you are looking for a spark of inspiration, I hope this letter provides it.

General Likes/Dislikes:

Things I love in a Yuletide fic: M/M, UST, hurt/comfort, banter, happy endings. When I look at the canons I chose, one consistent theme is that they all end on a note of hope, yet the characters I chose within these canons don't always get to experience that. I think, more than anything, what I would love to see is a chance for these characters to catch a glimmer of it for themselves (or for each other, in the canons where I've selected a pairing).

Things I generally don’t like in a Yuletide fic: AU’s set outside of the canon setting (coffee shop, etc), MPREG, graphic gore, body horror, unhappy endings. That being said, if you have a wild idea that goes against these, these are definitely more loose guidelines than DNW’s.

___

Coldfire Trilogy

Damien Vryce/Gerald Tarrant Not sure if there will ever be a Yuletide where I don't request CFT fic. I do write frequently for this fandom, but just because I write in a certain style, please don’t restrict yourself to my “usual” topics. For this canon especially, I’m excited to read what you want to write. I’m starting my millionth re-read of the trilogy, so I am excited to read anything set either during canon, or a post-canon fix-it. Give me all the banter. Give me all the UST. Give me Gerald Tarrant doing something kind (while doing mental gymnastics to justify it to himself as FOR SELFISH REASONS ONLY). Give me Damien forgetting to agonize over what GT is and just enjoying a moment with him (bonus points for him Prophet!fanboying). Give me physical contact of some sort between them, give me the soul bond! I ship these two hard, but I am happy to read pre-slash/gen.

Dimension20: Escape from the Bloodkeep

Leiland (Kraz-Thun) I watched Escape from the Bloodkeep 2 months ago(?) and once I was done, I immediately restarted it and watched the series again. Bloodkeep has some of my favorite Dropout cast characters, but of course it was Matt Mercer’s Leiland who stole the show for me. Someone on Reddit summed up Leiland as “All that dark power and regal lineage turned into a benny hill skit” and in response I can only say, that’s exactly why I’m here. I am happy with both pre and post-canon fic, gen or shippy (and not picky on ship). I’d really love to see Leiland navigate how to be Leiland, and not Kraz-Thun, and getting more comfortable in the ��evil” found family he has created. Galfast Hamhead, while not requested, is of course 1000% welcome in any story. Yoroiden Samurai Troopers (Ronin Warriors)

Shuten/Rajura

This was my first real fandom, well over two decades ago now, and Shuten/Rajura was my first ship. I definitely carried a binder plastered outside with the Masho chibi from Amanda Swiftgold’s page and stuffed to the brim with too much printed fic from Mink’s Yaoi Cake archive. This was a rare ship even then, and I am absolutely fine with gen, and fics that include all the Masho. I would of course love a fix-it fic, but I am open to exploring missing canon scenes also. I would enjoy a fic either from Rajura or Shuten’s perspective that grapples with their encounter out on the tracks, and that sprinkles in some of their shared complex history. Feel free to bend canon details in terms of what the armor enables.

Uprooted

Solya/Marek These two have taken up residence in my brain and will not leave me alone. They truly enable each other in a way that is absolutely toxic, but I would love a fic that lets them attempt to do better by each other. I would prefer that Marek lives in your fic, whether that means exploring pre-canon events, or a missing scene during their story, and I would definitely enjoy a fix-it (just think of the hurt/comfort possibilities!) where they get to figure out their version of a happy ending. How do they navigate a world where they both wield less power? Would they be able to make their peace enough with that to carve out something new? Or would they chafe against that lack of power, and it would be that struggle that entwines them further?

#yuletide 2024 #yuletide letter #coldfire trilogy #uprooted #dimension 20 escape from the bloodkeep #yoroiden samurai troopers

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karolinarodrigueswrites · 2 years ago

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Oh yeah - just casual reminder Can't Fake This is also a human au of Can't Play Dead

Can't Play Dead is a horror poly romance with witches and witch hunters that I was struggling to write due elements of character development that were lost in the lore and plot (plus lack of outline), so I made a human au to focus on the humanity of the characters and their potential connections,

But it got out of control and it became its own thing

If CFT's fluff inclined drama doesn't do it for you, then maybe the problematics of Can't Play Dead could as the polycule gets together because a man throws himself at a witch in hopes of a home, even if it kills him; another is also a witch and goes after her, aiming to scam her out of her money and sacrifice her to his familiar; and the last is a hunter supposed to help kill her, but instead most genuinely falls for her

All while death and this witch permeate the story and events in such a manner, they can't be told apart at times as they essentially haunt the world and the narrative

The wip intro is outdated, but still, just thought I'd comment about it

#kr rambles #cpdwip #cft wip

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coinwealth · 3 years ago

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Crypto and NFTs meet regulation as Turkey takes on the digital future

In her monthly Expert Take column, Selva Ozelli, an international tax attorney and CPA, covers the intersection between emerging technologies and sustainability, and provides the latest developments around taxes, AML/CFT regulations and legal issues affecting crypto and blockchain.

Turkey — the cradle of civilization — is quietly digitizing despite its high-inflation economy, and the lira’s volatility might be correlated with the prices of Bitcoin (BTC) and Ether (ETH). During the fourth quarter of 2021, the TRY/USD exchange rate crashed from 9 to 18.5 liras per dollar in the six weeks leading up to mid-December before strengthening to as high as 10 liras and then falling back to 13.87 liras at the time of writing, rendering the currency a highly volatile asset.

The lira’s volatility stemmed from a contrarian interest rate cut made by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan amid high inflation and against the advice of central bankers. High inflation tends to devalue cash and drive investors �� including major professional and institutional investors alongside top hedge fund managers like George Soros — to invest their money in cryptocurrencies. With inflation soaring above 20%, Erhan Kahraman, news editor at Cointelegraph, told me that during 2021:

“Bitcoin and other cryptocurrency usage in Turkey increased elevenfold.”

Unexpectedly, the cryptocurrency market crashed during the first trading week of 2022, and as a result, Bitcoin and Ether — which rose 100% and 300% during 2021, respectively — entered bear market territory. The crash was blamed on a combination of three events.

The first event was the release of the minutes from the United States Federal Reserve’s December meeting. They hinted that the U.S. central bank would reduce its pandemic-era stimulus and begin raising interest rates sooner than expected. This news triggered a sell-off in the global stock markets that spilled over into the cryptocurrency markets, with Bitcoin’s price ultimately crashing over 40% from its all-time high set in November 2021. Similarly, Ether dropped over 13% after the news to as low as $3,300.

The second event was the anti-government riots in Kazakhstan, the world’s second-largest Bitcoin mining hub, which led to the country’s government being sacked and internet services shut down, leaving an estimated 13% of the world’s Bitcoin mining operations offline.

Related: Bitcoin miners’ resilience to geopolitics — A healthy sign for the network

The third event was the rapid worldwide spread of the Omicron variant of COVID-19, which wreaked havoc on long-term social and economic development by leaving millions sick and inundating healthcare systems that were already buckling under the cumulative toll of every previous surge. Reinforcing the idea that people shouldn’t live in constant fear of the virus, Ugur Sahin, the German-Turkish co-founder of COVID-19 vaccine maker BioNTech, highlighted that despite the virus being here to stay for a couple more years, the COVID-19 variants are becoming controllable, and that BioNTech is keeping its eye on new variants and new strains.

Nevertheless, the unexpected market crash was not enough to shake Turkish investors’ faith in cryptocurrencies being a hedge against a weakening lira and double-digit inflation.

The first-ever eco-friendly, secure cryptocurrencies

While Satoshi Nakamoto is credited with designing the first cryptocurrency, it was actually Turkish-American Emin Gün Sirer — CEO of Ava Labs, professor at Cornell University and co-director of the Initiative for Cryptocurrencies and Smart Contracts — who designed the first in 2003, six years before the launch of Bitcoin. Named “Karma,” it was based on a proof-of-work protocol.

Since 2019, Sirer has been focused on building Avalanche, an eco-friendly blockchain that uses a novel consensus mechanism for high-transaction throughput. As Sirer explained to me: “Avalanche is a high-performance, eco-friendly blockchain that scales hard math and science, rather than expensive, energy-intensive hardware. At its core, the innovation of the Avalanche consensus reduces the amount of communication required between validating nodes, which also decreases the hardware and power required to secure the many billions of dollars in value on the network. Taken a step further, Avalanche is a ‘quiescent’ protocol, meaning that if network activity slows, nodes will not perpetually expend energy as we see on almost every other platform. Nodes will simply wait until they hear another transaction to broadcast and move swiftly toward the next decision.” He added:

“Sustainability is critical to the blockchain industry’s ability to overtake traditional infrastructures, as well as a core ethic of this entire ecosystem of using innovation to better the lives of people.”

Sirer continued: “Much of the inertia that climate activists have faced is from incumbents who wield far too much power. Decentralizing their power and putting more economic control in the hands of individuals, rather than institutions, is an incredible step forward. Momentum toward mass adoption of decentralized services continues to accelerate, and users are also witnessing that high performance and eco-friendliness of a blockchain platform are not enemies. In fact, they are necessary companions to achieve mass adoption, doing right by both people and the planet.”

Sierra Nevada Corporation (SNC), a cybersecurity and aerospace company co-founded by Turkish-American couple Eren and Fatih Ozmen, partnered with Ultra to modernize the cryptographic infrastructure of SNC’s legacy AN/PYQ-10 Simple Key Loader devices to protect against mounting cyber and electronic warfare threats and to protect, store and distribute sensitive information. SNC has joint ventures with Aselsan and Havelsan, which are state-owned defense, software and electronics companies that are part of the “Digital Turkish Lira Collaboration Platform.”

President Erdoğan has said that Turkey’s main objective is to produce all its equipment used in high-tech and aerospace systems, including cyberdefense systems.

Central bank digital currency

According to the Atlantic Council, there are 87 countries — including Turkey — exploring a central bank digital currency (CBDC).

As part of the Central Bank Digital Turkish Lira Research and Development Project, the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey established the Digital Turkish Lira Collaboration Platform in close collaboration with Aselsan, Havelsan and Tübitak Bilgem. The project is researching the potential benefits of introducing a digital lira to complement the nation’s existing payments infrastructure. The results of the first phase of this research are expected to be announced in 2022 after the tests are completed.

Cointelegraph Turkey’s Kahraman explained to me that “Turkey’s digital banking, or ‘fintech,’ industry is already miles ahead of many regions across the world in terms of adoption and technologies used. Local banks are offering a myriad of digital services to their customers. Cashless payments are already above 50% of all transactions, per PwC’s 2020 payments research.” He added:

“So, while there are clear benefits for the Turkish government and financial institutions in issuing a central bank digital currency, I don’t see a significant advantage for the citizens.”

Nonfungible tokens

“Machine Hallucinations: Coral Dreams,” a work by Refik Anadol — an award-winning Turkish-American new media artist — was the talk around town during 2021 Art Basel Miami Beach.

Anadol is the first artist to use artificial intelligence in a public immersive artwork, partnering with teams at Microsoft, Google, Nvidia, Intel, IBM, Panasonic, the United States National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory, Siemens, Epson, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Harvard, University of California-Los Angeles, Stanford University and the University of California-San Francisco. He applies the latest, cutting-edge science, research and technologies to his body of work, which consists of data-driven machine learning algorithms that create abstract, dreamlike environments.

Related: 2021 ends with a question: Are NFTs here to stay?

Kahraman explained to me that “There are several platforms that Turkish artists are actively using to create and sell their NFTs. The first one is OpenSea — it’s probably the most popular NFT marketplace globally. Turkish artists like Refik Anadol, Cem Yılmaz and others have already created and sold their NFTs on the Ethereum-based platform. However, the Ethereum network’s high gas fees (multiplied by the exchange rates in Turkey) place a barrier for many lesser-known artists and their communities. Coupled with the popularity of Avalanche in Turkey, I am seeing several artists publish their NFTs on eco-friendly Avalanche-based platforms, then sell their collections on Kalao. But to be honest, the majority of Turkish users are also using global apps like Binance, Huobi, etc. BtcTurk and Paribu are the top two heavyweights of the local NFT ecosystem. Icrypex and Bitci are also rising in popularity with new partnerships and global projects.”

Avenue 10 Gallery, founded by Luc Navarro and with branches in Paris and Bangkok, digitizes physical artworks to offer high-end NFTs sold on Ethereum-based OpenSea. Navarro, a Turkish-American artist, invited me to make NFTs out of my “Art in the Time of Corona” series of oil paintings, which includes, among others, a portrait of Erdal Arikan — the inventor of the world’s first channel coding scheme (polar codes) for 5G technology.

Regulation of cryptocurrencies

As Kahraman explained to me:

“There is currently no clear regulator governing all the crypto-related developments in Turkey. President Erdoğan said the legislation regarding crypto assets is ready for the parliament (TBMM), but there’s no definitive date yet.”

He added: “Cryptocurrencies are referred to as ‘crypto assets’ in published government documents. Different bodies working on different aspects of crypto assets are: The Financial Crimes Investigation Board (MASAK) is actively overseeing crypto service providers (crypto exchanges) on AML and compliance issues. The central bank is regulating the payment aspect of crypto assets. In April 2021, it banned the use of crypto assets from being used as a payment method. The Capital Markets Board (SPK) governs the crypto market, including ICOs and token offerings in a case-by-case manner.”

During the spring of 2021, two Turkish cryptocurrency exchanges, Thodex followed by Vebitcoin, shut down, with thousands of investors falling victim to a $2 billion fraud.

On May 1, 2021, President Erdoğan issued a presidential decree that added cryptocurrency exchanges to a list of institutions that must operate under Anti-Money Laundering and Counter-Terrorist Financing regulations. The same month, MASAK published a guide for crypto asset service providers that aims to prevent money laundering and the financing of terrorism through crypto asset transactions by obligating cryptocurrency exchanges to: 1) identify customers; 2) report suspicious transactions; 3) provide information and documents; 4) consistently provide information; and 5) retain documents. MASAK also ramped up its investigations of cryptocurrency-related operations in Turkey.

So far, MASAK has found deficiencies in the Anti-Money Laundering controls of BN Teknoloji, the Turkish branch of Binance — the world’s leading cryptocurrency exchange — and ordered it to pay a fine of 8 million lira (approximately $750,000 at time of the announcement).

Separately, Turkey’s Ihlas News Agency reported that Turkish police carried out simultaneous raids in 11 places, arresting 40 of 44 suspects who used Twitch’s Bits virtual currency to launder around $10 million.

Taxation of cryptocurrencies

Turkey’s citizens are increasingly using cryptocurrencies. Nevertheless, there is currently no regulation on the taxation of cryptocurrencies or NFT transactions. Eren Can Ersoy and Ezgi Kartın of Kılınç Law & Consulting explained that if cryptocurrencies are characterized as “securities” or “commodities,” the tax treatment would be as follows:

Securities: For cryptocurrencies to qualify as securities, such as initial coin offerings, they must be treated as “financial assets.” In this case, gains made from the purchase and sale of cryptocurrencies and the commissions earned by cryptocurrency exchanges in 2021 that exceed 19,000 liras will generally be subject to income tax, but not subject to value added tax (VAT).

Commodities: If cryptocurrencies are considered as commodities, such as Bitcoin, and the taxpayer is not engaged in a trade or business, then any gains for 2021 above 43,000 liras will generally be subject to income tax. If the taxpayer is engaged in a trade or business, the profit will be commercial gain and cryptocurrencies will be subject to income tax as well as VAT.

The views, thoughts and opinions expressed here are the author’s alone and do not necessarily reflect or represent the views and opinions of Cointelegraph.

Selva Ozelli, Esq., CPA, is an international tax attorney and certified public accountant who frequently writes about tax, legal and accounting issues for Tax Notes, Bloomberg BNA, other publications and the OECD.

source https://usapangbitcoin.org/crypto-and-nfts-meet-regulation-as-turkey-takes-on-the-digital-future/

source https://usapangbitcoin.wordpress.com/2022/01/24/crypto-and-nfts-meet-regulation-as-turkey-takes-on-the-digital-future/

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s-c-i-guy · 8 years ago

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Why Is M-Theory the Leading Candidate for Theory of Everything?

The mother of all string theories passes a litmus test that, so far, no other candidate theory of quantum gravity has been able to match.

It’s not easy being a “theory of everything.” A TOE has the very tough job of fitting gravity into the quantum laws of nature in such a way that, on large scales, gravity looks like curves in the fabric of space-time, as Albert Einstein described in his general theory of relativity. Somehow, space-time curvature emerges as the collective effect of quantized units of gravitational energy — particles known as gravitons. But naive attempts to calculate how gravitons interact result in nonsensical infinities, indicating the need for a deeper understanding of gravity.

String theory (or, more technically, M-theory) is often described as the leading candidate for the theory of everything in our universe. But there’s no empirical evidence for it, or for any alternative ideas about how gravity might unify with the rest of the fundamental forces. Why, then, is string/M-theory given the edge over the others?

The theory famously posits that gravitons, as well as electrons, photons and everything else, are not point-particles but rather imperceptibly tiny ribbons of energy, or “strings,” that vibrate in different ways. Interest in string theory soared in the mid-1980s, when physicists realized that it gave mathematically consistent descriptions of quantized gravity. But the five known versions of string theory were all “perturbative,” meaning they broke down in some regimes. Theorists could calculate what happens when two graviton strings collide at high energies, but not when there’s a confluence of gravitons extreme enough to form a black hole.

Then, in 1995, the physicist Edward Witten discovered the mother of all string theories. He found various indications that the perturbative string theories fit together into a coherent nonperturbative theory, which he dubbed M-theory. M-theory looks like each of the string theories in different physical contexts but does not itself have limits on its regime of validity — a major requirement for the theory of everything. Or so Witten’s calculations suggested. “Witten could make these arguments without writing down the equations of M-theory, which is impressive but left many questions unanswered,” explained David Simmons-Duffin, a theoretical physicist at the California Institute of Technology.

Another research explosion ensued two years later, when the physicist Juan Maldacena discovered the AdS/CFT correspondence: a hologram-like relationship connecting gravity in a space-time region called anti-de Sitter (AdS) space to a quantum description of particles (called a “conformal field theory”) moving around on that region’s boundary. AdS/CFT gives a complete definition of M-theory for the special case of AdS space-time geometries, which are infused with negative energy that makes them bend in a different way than our universe does. For such imaginary worlds, physicists can describe processes at all energies, including, in principle, black hole formation and evaporation. The 16,000 papers that have cited Maldacena’s over the past 20 years mostly aim at carrying out these calculations in order to gain a better understanding of AdS/CFT and quantum gravity.

This basic sequence of events has led most experts to consider M-theory the leading TOE candidate, even as its exact definition in a universe like ours remains unknown. Whether the theory is correct is an altogether separate question. The strings it posits — as well as extra, curled-up spatial dimensions that these strings supposedly wiggle around in — are 10 million billion times smaller than experiments like the Large Hadron Collider can resolve. And some macroscopic signatures of the theory that might have been seen, such as cosmic strings and supersymmetry, have not shown up.

Other TOE ideas, meanwhile, are seen as having a variety of technical problems, and none have yet repeated string theory’s demonstrations of mathematical consistency, such as the graviton-graviton scattering calculation. (According to Simmons-Duffin, none of the competitors have managed to complete the first step, or first “quantum correction,” of this calculation.) One philosopher has even argued that string theory’s status as the only known consistent theory counts as evidence that the theory is correct.

The distant competitors include asymptotically safe gravity, E8 theory, noncommutative geometry and causal fermion systems. Asymptotically safe gravity, for instance, suggests that the strength of gravity might change as you go to smaller scales in such a way as to cure the infinity-plagued calculations. But no one has yet gotten the trick to work.

#science #physics #string theory #mathematical physics

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berkeleyjobsite · 5 years ago

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Permanency Social Worker

Level: Experienced

Job Localtion: Berkeley Headquarters – Berkeley, CA

Position Type: Full Time

Education Level: Master’s Degree

Salary Range: $54,000.00 – $60,000.00 Salary/year

Job Shift: Day

Job Category: Nonprofit – Social Services

Job summary:

The Permanency Program Social Worker (PPSW) will provide cross-over functions in the following areas: Adoption, Foster Care, Intensive Services Foster Care (ISFC), Therapeutic Foster Care (TFC) and Transitional Housing. The PPSW will conduct home environment assessment, psychosocial assessment, and prepare a Written Report for resource families. This position will: develop, coordinate, and supervise treatment plans for children living with our resource families; arrange trainings for parents; conduct home-based case management services for resource families; develop, coordinate and supervise family service plans, assessing and identifying family needs and connect families to available resources. Participate in Child and Family Teams (CFT).

Provide case management to assigned Foster Care/Adoption caseload including: completing appraisal, needs and service plans, quarterly reports, case notes from weekly visits/contacts, working in collaboration with county placement agency social workers and working towards children/family case plans with agency approved resource families.

Job Duties and Responsibilities:

Understand, interpret and apply the interim licensing standards and applicable laws governing the operations of public social services agencies, Foster Family Agency homes (FFA), transitional housing programs and adoptions including California Alliance and Joint Commission standards

Orients and explains the Resource Family Approval requirements to applicants and resource families

Evaluate and assess the application of the potential resource families

Interview and establish rapport with applicants; work with diverse populations including with resource families, birth families, kin caregivers and extended family members

Conduct trainings to small and large groups

Conduct a home environment assessment, psychosocial assessment, and prepare a Written Report

Incorporate an assessment of an applicant’s mental health and substance abuse into the risk assessment

Assess a variety of information including, but not limited to, historical, social, cultural and economic factors pertaining to individuals

Summarize, evaluate, and make a final determination of an applicant in the written report

Utilize teaming and collaborative strategies to engage resource families

Ability to assess and identify children who have been abused, neglected, or maltreated

Evaluation and assessment of a child/NMD for placement and continued placement in a resource family home

Matching child/NMD with a resource family home

Participate in the Child and Family Team (CFT) process for the child/NMD

Development and updating of the child’s needs and services plan, including identifying individuals who are important to the child

Provide case management services including direct contact with the child or nonminor dependent and the resource family

Provision of support services to resource families assigned to the social worker

Recognize how personal beliefs, values, norms, and world views can affect the dynamics of case planning and outcomes

Maintains records of all services provided and documents all assessments, meetings, decisions and reports

Establish and maintain contact with community service providers

Facilitates support groups

Plan and attend social events for families

Perform other duties as assigned by supervisor.

Qualifications

Qualifications and Characteristics Desired:

Master’s Degree from an accredited or state approved graduate school in social work or social welfare, Master’s Degree from an accredited or state approved graduate school in social work or social welfare, marriage, family, and child counseling, child psychology, child development, counseling psychology or social psychology

Ability to be register with the Board of Behavioral Sciences preferred

Excellent clinical skills including knowledge of developmental stages of childhood and effects of trauma on development, as well as the dynamics of system involved children and families

Experience with behavior modification interventions preferred

Strength-based, culturally competent approach to supervision, participant and community service

Excellent organizational, computer, writing, and communication skills

Ability to complete adoption home study assessments using Structured Analysis Family Evaluation (SAFE) format

Manage a high volume of work, practicing effective time management and prioritization skills

Excellent interpersonal skills and ability to engage and establish rapport with multi- and inter-generational families

Experience working with Transitional Aged Youth and Transitional Housing Programs

Experience with conducting trainings and informational sessions

Ability to pass various background checks needed to work with children

Ability to travel using personal vehicle and flexible schedule including evenings and weekends.

Work Environment

While performing the duties of this job, the employee regularly works in an office setting.

Physical Demands

The physical demands described here are representative of those that must be met by an employee to successfully perform the essential functions of this job.

While performing the duties of this job, the employee is regularly required to use hands and fingers to handle, feel, or operate objects, tools or controls, and reach with hands and arms. The employee is frequently required to stand, talk and hear.

Position Type/Expected Hours of Work

This is a full-time position. Days and hours of work are Monday through Friday, 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.

Travel

Local travel to various worksites is required.

Work Authorization/Security Clearance

Employees must pass a background check and receive TB and health clearances prior to employment.

A Better Way is committed to workforce diversity. Qualified applicants will receive full consideration without regard to age, race, color, ethnic background, religion, gender, sexual orientation, HIV-status, national origin or disability. Reasonable accommodations may be made to enable individuals with disabilities to perform the essential functions.

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toiletwipes · 2 years ago

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I can hear that audio where it's like "dude, relax. Just calm down." And the other half of it is just growling foaming at the mouth twitching ANS THATS EXACTLY WHAT IM FEELING RIGHT NOW HOLYYYYYHHH SHITTTTTTT