#Price feels his tethers light up with fear and is like: probably not a good sign

[ghouljams]

I'm really late to the party with this, but I have a fae-like character to share if you're interested 0w0

Basically, he was originally a human who tried to outsmart a fae by tricking it into giving him powers. Sadly, this didn't go too well for him and he ended up reduced to a monster roaming the woods in search of its next meal.

He wanted the power to change his appearance and, the fae, angry at the human for trying to deceive them, gave him exactly what he asked for. The man wanted to test out his new powers and turned himself into a moose, only it didn't work out quite right. His new body was deformed and monstrous and he found he could no longer return to his old human form.

The man can now no longer be considered human, rather a mimic that looks like a 's pretending to be a moose. While he can no longer change his form, he can mimic the sound of people's voices when he hears them, often using them to call out to friends and family, luring them into the woods to be consumed.

He can't speak in his own voice anymore, having long since forgotten how it used to sound, instead just copying the dying screams and begs for help of its prey. (Think the bear monster from annihilation).

I have a picture of him here if you're interested. (Hopefully this link works!)

I wonder if the Witch would encounter the Mimic at any point since she lives near the woods. LMAO I'm just imagining how fun it would be for it to try mimicking Price's voice to lure her over. Or perhaps one of the other darlings considering the Witch might be a little too clever to fall for such a thing.

Oooh I love this, love the horror, plus annihilation is one of my favorite movies. I hope you don't mind if I write a little something because this absolutely inspired me :)

You don't know what it is, but you've seen it, heard it. The crying, the wailing sob of a young woman, the screams of a child. The echoes of it through the thin limned trees and snow. You've watched, crouched behind your garden wall as the moose that isn't a moose wanders past with its strange and horrible cries. It scares you enough to pour salt along your wall, the purest barrier you can think of, a defense actually visible to you. You trust your threshold, but better safe than sorry.

You don't call Price, you should call Price. At least ask him to shoo the thing away. It keeps hanging around. Almost as bad as Price himself, but at least when Price spooks you, you know how to combat it. This thing is... you can't describe the feeling of it. Slick like oil, the magic simply doesn't mix with yours. Even the wisps of it through the cold of Winter give you a clear enough picture to not want it near your fence.

But it feels like it's getting closer.

Price left a little bit ago. You're back to your gardening, crouched next to the asparagus breaking off stalks with practiced fingers. You produce is coming in well this season, probably all the extra time you've been spending in the garden.

"Witch," Price calls behind you, you hum in answer, he must have forgotten something. "Sweetheart," He tries again, almost pleading. You blink, you've never heard that tone before. You stand and turn to face him.

Turn to face the dead glassy eyes of the Moose that isn't a moose as it snuffles at your salt barrier. Your ribs clench tight, stopping your breath before you can draw in a gasp. It's mouth opens to speak again, to croak out Price's voice from behind rows of needling teeth, its lips drawing too far back, predatory. It's ears twitch, listening for any sound of you. It can't get through your barrier, you remind yourself.

That doesn't stop it from trying. It's overgrown and stained horns scraping against the threshold, as it follows the line of the wall. The soft crunch of snow that follows it is too delicate for a beast that size. You turn to watch its path, the sickly matted fur, the raw musculature, you try your best to breath shallow and even. The slick magic around it is so at odds with everything you know about magic. The corrupted wild magic of human ambition and hubris where it meets a petty fae. If you weren't rooted in place you might throw up.

You press a hand to your chest, trying to feel for the strands you'd been steadfastly ignoring. Something to ground you to a feeling of safety and not this overwhelming fear. You don't know what to do but hold onto one of your ties to Price and wait for the creature to give up and leave.

When it finally does go it's with the same wailing cry you've heard so many times. It seems to be directed at you. The punishing sound of it for your ears only, crying over a lost meal. The scratches you feel on the threshold as it continues dragging its horns along it are raw and throbbing. The only solace you have is that for now your barriers have held up. You only hope that the creature is smart enough to recognize this failed attempt as a futile one, that it will find a new area to hunt in.

You'll work on a banishing spell just in case.

[forthiswholeworld]

for @cursed-or-not because we’re thriving on each other’s clownery (page break bc this got Too Long to inflict on unsuspecting dashes) 

They’ve had Cas back for four days when Dean realizes something is wrong.

For a paralyzing moment, he stumbles on the thought, feels the fear of it choking him as he freezes in the doorway with a mug of coffee in his hand. He watches Cas blink dazedly at Sam’s debriefing on the rugaru in San Antonio and wills himself forward, wills his mind not to go straight to darkness and loss and cosmic consequences. Cas flashes a ragged smile as Dean sets the mug in front of him, and it occurs to Dean that maybe this is less about cosmic consequences than it is humanity. 

Now that Dean thinks about it, he can see it: the circles under his eyes, the weary slope of his back-- the things Dean had attributed to resurrection rather than humanity. 

Cas is human, though, and Dean thinks he needs to remember that before he remembers that he was gone. 

Cas needs food and laundry detergent and coffee and sleep, and now that he thinks about it Dean is absolutely sure he hasn’t seen Cas touch his bed since he got back. 

He doesn’t bring it up; they’ve been here before. They’ve come back and kept secrets and spent sleepless nights trying to fix things before, and heart-to-hearts have never gotten them anywhere. 

Instead, Dean drinks three pots of coffee and waits.

It’s 2:07 AM when he hears the echo of footsteps in the hallway. He swings open the door and tries to look like he hasn’t been waiting in ambush as Cas freezes.

“Dean,” he says, voice rough and a little frantic, and Dean is reminded of the days he’d wake up to Cas blithely watching him from the foot of his bed. (The days when Heaven filled the space between them and Dean didn't understand the difference between being a human and being human.) 

He watches Cas’ eyes flit away from his gaze and smiles brazenly. “Trouble sleeping?” 

Cas shifts on his feet. “No,” he says like he’s not the worst liar in the entire multiverse.

Dean holds his gaze for another beat before breathing a sigh. “Cas.” He settles back against the doorframe to scrutinize him. “What’s up?” 

Cas swallows. His eyes trace a scuff on the floor. “It gets so quiet here at night,” he mutters, and Dean understands.

He works his jaw as he realizes. He thinks he should’ve recognized the signs. He should’ve seen the tired eyes and haunted glances and known then, because Dean doesn’t know what it’s like to come back from nothingness, but he knows what it’s like to close his eyes and see hell.

He watches Cas’s gaze flit from the floor to the wall behind him and settle just above Dean’s left shoulder, and he���s not consciously aware of deciding anything but he’s inhaling to say something, and he guesses it better be good because there’s not a whole lot he can say to heal emptiness. 

“Sleep in my room,” he says, and he’s not sure which of them it surprises more.

“Dean—” Cas starts, and Dean knows he’s going to refuse, but there’s a millisecond where his gaze catches on Cas’s and there’s something heavy in the space between them, and Dean knows what it is but he’s always refused to put a name to it.

Cas swallows as he looks away. “As long as you don’t mind,” he says, and Dean also tears his gaze away before he can do something dumb like consider the vulnerability of it. 

“Come on then,” he mutters as he heads back into his room. “You can take the bed.”

“Dean—” Cas protests like Dean knew he would, and Dean narrowly avoids rolling his eyes.

“We’ll both take it then,” he says before he can ponder the sheer idiocy of it. 

Cas hesitates beside the bed, but Dean thinks he must be either too tired or too apathetic to argue, because he swallows and steps forward. 

Cas is careful as he pulls back the comforter and settles in; he’s careful not to take too much blanket or too much space, and they both lie stiffly on their respective sides of the bed until Dean decides he can’t take it anymore and clears his throat a little obnoxiously. He hears Cas huff a laugh. 

“You said it was too quiet,” Dean says softly, and he’s grateful for the darkness because he thinks he’s wearing a damningly fond expression. 

He thinks he feels Cas relax as he mutters, “that’s on me, then.” 

The stillness doesn’t feel so stifling after that, and he hears Cas’s breathing start to even out. 

He can feel the thrum of caffeine in his veins as he watches the ceiling. Even in the dark, he can see the outline of the ceiling fan, the trimming on the wall, the chair in the corner. He can hear Cas’s breathing, feel the warmth in the space between them, and he realizes he has no idea what emptiness is. He wonders how long it’s been since Cas closed his eyes without seeing it. 

He lies awake for the next three hours, but the rise and fall of Cas’s chest is steady and even beside him, so the caffeine overdose is a small price to pay. There are no windows in his room, but if there were he’d be able to see the first hazy traces of sunrise filtering in by the time he starts to drift off. 

Cas is gone when he wakes up. 

He staggers out of his room just before noon, and Cas doesn’t quite meet his eye as he wordlessly hands him a plate of pancakes, courtesy of Sam and Eileen, but Dean thinks the circles under his eyes look a little less absurd, and it’s enough. 

The next night, Dean leaves his door open. 

He isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but 11:00 rolls around and he’s just getting ready to turn out the lights when he hears a tentative knock at the doorframe. He looks up to see Cas in the doorway. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Cas mumbles, and something about his awkward stance and fragile uncertainty makes Dean’s chest ache. 

He thinks this is where he becomes brash; this is where he scoffs a laugh and brushes off this heaviness like neither of their shoulders are bowed under the weight of what-ifs. This is where he flees back to the safe side of the lines they’ve drawn. 

He swallows. “You wanna come in?” 

Cas stills. “I--” his eyes flit to Dean and then away in a millisecond. “No. I just--” 

“Cas,” Dean interrupts, and he guesses he’s being reckless instead of brash and can’t say whether it’s for the best but he can feel the thrill of it in his veins. “Get in here.” 

Cas watches him for half a beat, probably just as surprised as Dean is that he’s managed not to be a defensive asshole about this, and then he swallows. “Thank you.” 

Dean thinks he absolutely doesn’t deserve a thank you, but Cas shuffles in and hesitates at the side of the bed and before he can say as much he’s pulling the comforter aside to make room. 

Dean falls asleep earlier tonight; he thinks it has something to do with not being hyped up on three pots of coffee and the thrill of reckless, stupid ideas. He’s not sure when Cas nodded off, but he wakes up at 3:42 to the sound of gasping, panicked breathing. 

“Cas?” He asks with a sleep-worn voice but he’s halfway across the bed, reaching for Cas’s shoulder before he can get a response or take half a second to consider how horrible an idea this is. 

“Dean,” Cas breathes, and Dean isn’t sure if it’s a question or an answer or a prayer but Cas’s breath mingles with his as he says it and something in the fragile space between them finally shatters as Cas leans into the touch. 

Dean pulls him into his chest, holds him there and tries not to let the ache of it convince him he’s going to regret this.

Cas clutches the back of Dean’s shirt like it’s all that’s keeping him tethered to this world where things are allowed to make noise and wake up and see light, and Dean rests his palms against Cas’s shoulders and wishes he had the words to promise he’s holding on just as tight. 

Dean isn’t sure how long it is, whether it’s two minutes or three hours or an eternity, but Cas’s grip on his shirt loosens, and he breathes less stuttered exhales, and he rests his chin somewhere in the crook of Dean’s shoulder and closes his eyes. 

Dean leans slowly back against the headrest and thinks he’s never been very good at this. 

The intimacy of it is familiar—the weight of an arm over his stomach, the heady tangle of limbs, the needy warmth— that’s always come naturally to him. It’s the tenderness that gets him. It’s the brush of Cas’ breath against his neck, the softness of ten years of fear and loss and a word that Dean can’t say as easily as he should. It’s the ache where the rhythm of his pulse screams something between I want this forever and I’m so afraid.  

Cas is gone when he wakes up. 

Cas is gone, and Dean’s arm is stiff and he wonders if it will ever be enough just to hold an angel haunted by empty nights. 

That night, he tells himself he isn't waiting for the knock. 

He tells himself he’s not waiting, but he hears the shuffle of bare feet in the hall and a single rap at the door and a millisecond later he’s swinging it open. 

Tonight, there’s no apologetic hesitance or fumbling for words.

There’s Cas, standing plainly in the doorway and there’s Dean, dropping his hand from the doorknob and standing too close. There’s the tilt of Cas’s head as he searches Dean’s face for something Dean knows with terrified certainty he’ll find, and there’s Dean’s gaze flitting to his mouth for a stupid, breathless moment. There’s the part of Cas’s lips and the desperate beating of Dean’s heart, the distant electric buzz of the lights and the hitch of his breath as Cas leans forward—

There’s the cluttered breath and scrape of teeth as their mouths crash together.

His lungs stutter on the drag of stubble and chapped lips and tired warmth, and because he never thought he’d be allowed to, he pulls Cas in, clutches the front of his shirt and crowds him up against the doorway until they’re pressed together and they can both feel the desperate rhythm of his pulse. Cas’s fingers ghost over his jaw and something in Dean is absolutely dizzy with the realness of it. 

He doesn’t know how long it is before Cas breaks away but he feels ready to shatter. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Cas says, and Dean breathes a ragged laugh into his shoulder. 

There are still things he can’t say, words that form in his chest sit and like a lump in his throat and will probably stay unsaid for just a little while longer, but he lets his arms circle Cas’ waist and murmurs “sleep in here, then,” and he has to bury his face in the crook of Cas’ neck to hide a stupidly fond smile.  

Cas breathes a soft “thank you” against his temple as Dean pulls him toward the bed, and Dean can hear the worn tiredness in his voice and thinks that might be all there is for a while but for the first time in their lives they have time, and it’s enough. 

It’s enough, he thinks, and he pulls Cas against his chest and holds onto him until there’s no empty space between them. 

[emilyoftheshadows]

Are we going to ignore the inhaling of narcotic drugs going on in the corner?

 Enjoy some more angsty rowaelon vibes! This drabble is more intense than my other two pieces and probably the most angst I have ever written.

TW: depression, drug/alcohol abuse, death, gun violence

~~~~~

Aelin looked good tonight. No, correction, she looked fucking hot. The dress hugged her thin figure, the hot pink color sure to make her stand out in any crowd. With her loosely curled hair running down her back and a disguise of makeup to cover the darkening circles under her eyes, Aelin was ready to face the crowds.

  The most rambunctious groups came out Friday night. The clubs become filled with young drinkers like Aelin, ready to let loose after a long week. Not that it mattered what day of the week it was anymore. Aelin could barely keep track as it was. Between last night's drunken adventures and the shroom endeavors the night before, time blurred together. 

 Her apathy for her life was at an all time high, and Aelin couldn't find it in herself to give two fucks about her safety. No, she was out for a good time, even if the cost was a high price. She wanted more good times, more distractions, more haziness, more everything. Want was too weak of a word...Aelin needed these distractions in her life. Because if she took the time to re-evaluate her life circumstances, she would crumble beyond repair. 

 So instead of feeling the emptiness of reality, Aelin decided to live in the fullness of fantasy. With her intentions in mind, she turned to Dorian with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He smiled back with drunken enthusiasm, already 4 shots in due to his notorious pre-gaming. Yes, even events he attended involving the consumption of more alcohol still required this ritual. Ever since Aelin had dived into her partying streak, Dorian had been stuck to her side. While they were not dating by any means, he was a good fuck buddy and a great party companion. With the same wild side as herself, they had a partnership that benefited them both. 

 Tonight, they walked into The Vaults, instantly greeted by the smell of sweat and liquor. The club was grimy at best with an even grosser owner, but they sold pints by the dollar and had a tendency to skip id checks. For this exact reason, Vaults was filled to the brim with patrons creating a chaotic image. Arms pumped up in tandem with the bass, bodies bumped into one another as people found the rhythm of the music; partners danced on each other, lost to the world around them. Aelin saw it all and became fascinated by the scene in front of her. She craved the anonymity that came with jumping into a random crowd. Aelin reveled in the thought of losing herself tonight, just  like she had every night since he was ripped from her life.

 Dorian released Aelin of her trance, pulling her to the expansive bar on the side of the room. Waving down the attention of the bartender, Dorian yelled over the sounds of the club.

 "Ace, what are you feeling tonight? Shots, beer, cosmos, you fucking name it. Everything's on me tonight!" Oh yeah, it was an added benefit that Dorian had money to burn. His father did something or other, Aelin couldn't remember. It wasn't pertinent to her, therefore she couldn't care less. But because of his fathers funds, and Dorian’s unlimited access to said funds, Aelin didn't have to pay for a thing when they went out. 

 "Surprise me!" With that said, Dorian turned towards the bartender ordering god knows what. Aelin took this time to check her phone, noting the date. June 9 2021, 365 days after she had lost her greatest love. The reason she needed to drown her sorrows with booze and bodies. Because the day Sam had died had been the last time Aelin truly knew who she was anymore.

 With a margarita set in her hand, Aelin tucked her phone back into her pocket determined to take back control of her thoughts, and continued to lead Dorian into the depths of the club.  As much as she hated to admit it, Aelin frequented Vaults on a weekly basis. The club attracted a crowd she usually didn’t interact with in her day to day life, creating a safe space where Aelin could go as wild as she wanted. The seating area they now stood in contained multiple clusters of partygoers, some more distracted than others. It was then that Dorian took a certain interest in one group over the others. 

With a hefty laugh, Dorian commented, “Are we going to ignore the inhaling of narcotic drugs going on in the corner?” 

 Aelin couldn’t help but join in his laughter, because as she turned her head to the left, she saw a girl arranging lines of white powder on the table in the middle of a much larger group. 

 “You know what, you are absolutely right Dorian! How could we ever miss an opportunity for a nice high?” Aelin could barely hear her own words over the noise, but noticed the glimmer of mischief reflected in Dorian’s eyes as well. She took that as a sign, moving closer to the group until she was in the center of the cluster with Dorian stuck at her side. With a raised eyebrow, Aelin gestured with her eyes to the powder and back up to the girl organizing the substance. Her hair was white as snow, piercings dotted along her ears and face.  She glanced up at Aelin, the girl's pupils already blown out and bloodshot. With a lazy smile she handed Aelin a card to line up her own serving. 

 Three lines later, Aelin was feeling more awake than ever. Her heart felt like it was skipping a beat, her nerves were on edge and her emotions were heightened. She looked over, glad to see Dorian was enjoying his time with the white-haired girl. But Aelin was done lounging around. No, she needed to move with the crowd in the center of the club. With her eyes locked on the floor, Aelin stumbled her way into the group of dancers, easily moving to the beats of the music. As she spun in circles, whipping her head around,  a flash of silver hair caught her eye. Many eccentric characters liked clubbing at Vaults, so it wasn’t unusual to see colorful hair, odd piercings, or questionable life choices. But, Aelin had a feeling that this character would be worth the search once found.  She finished her rotation and gained her bearings. Her eyes focused after a few moments, immediately setting out to find the topple of silver hair she had only seen moments ago. With a cursory glance, Aelin couldn’t find her target and quickly resigned in her search. There were many more people and many more ways to distract herself tonight.

 Aelin started to move her hips to the lull of the music once more, raising her arms up, reaching for her lost lover in the sky. She felt the haziness of the drugs and alcohol overcome her senses, finally enjoying the night's events. Men and women surrounded her, Aelin’s own sweat mixing with others around. Arms became entangled, hips grinded against a partner, and lips kissed in sync with the swaying of movement. 

 As Aelin became a part of it all, she imagined Sam was dancing with her…... as a boyish face appeared right in front of her, his usual outfit sculpting his body just right : a button down shirt with rolled up sleeves and a pair of nice jeans matched with one of  his many shoe choices. His arms wrapped around her waist, Aelin’s right resting on his shoulder, her left hand entwined in his tousled brown. She looked into his beautiful eyes, finding the light she loved to see shining back at her. Aelin felt her mood lighten, finding comfort in the arms of her love that she had missed for such a long time. God, she had missed this feeling, this unexplainable comfort she felt in his presence. Sam twirled Aelin around herself, his arms coming to wrap around her middle, his hands- grabbed her hips from behind. 

 Aelin came to her senses, shoved back into reality. Rough hands pulled her back into a tall, muscular frame. The mysterious man behind her had a pungent odor, wafts of his smell acting like a tether to her more sober self. Aelin turned to catch a glimpse of the man, only to see Arobynn Hamel himself. The man was almost twice her age, not to mention the owner of The Vaults, and a notorious man whore with a keen liking for younger girls.

  Aelin immediately became uncomfortable. There was too much going on. Between the lights of the club, the music’s heavy bass, and the unwanted sensation of the man behind her, she was ready to get out. She maneuvered herself out of his grasp, turning around and making a drinking motion with her hand. Instead of accepting her departure, Arobynn grabbed her by the waist and crashed their bodies together. Now encircled in his arms, Aelin truly had no escape. Her mind was on overdrive, her body kicking into flight or fight mode. Arobynn’s hands wandered down to her ass and up the length of her body. 

 He continued to grope her assets with unnecessary fervor, never loosening his grip on her body. Aelin tried shoving the man away, only to be greeted by an ugly smile and a beady pair of grey eyes. Fear kept Aelin in her place, the man staring back at her only more encouraged by her lack of willingness. As they danced, Aelin frantically looked around for help. Anyone who could help her get out of this situation now. Her vision was blurred with tears, her eyes barely able to distinguish anything around her. Then, like magic, Dorian finally appeared and yanked  Aelin out of her partner's arms. 

 "You motherfucker what the hell are you doing??" Dorian was enraged at Arobynn's actions, his bloodshot eyes bulging out of his head as he yelled each word. 

 "Well, before you so rudely stole my partner, we were having a really good time dancing with one another." Arobynn's eyes wandered to her at that comment, his misguided intentions clear as day.

 "A good time?? Huh? A good time when the girl you're dancing with is crying because she can't stand your very existence? Yeah that sounds fucking wonderful to me!" Maybe it was the powder they had both inhaled earlier, but Dorian was more aggressive than usual. Without missing a beat, he swung at Arobynn and clocked him dead smack in the face. 

 Arobynn was caught by surprise, losing his balance as he teetered backwards from the hit. Blood dripped from his nose profusely, a bruise forming beneath his eye. Arobynn looked back at the man who had caused this pain, and snarled in anger. 

 As he ran to Dorian, tackling him to the ground, all Aelin could do was stand there frozen in time. She heard screaming, maybe her own, as the men fought on the floor. There was so much noise around her, the sound of fists connecting with bone, the music still blaring in her ears. There was so much blood --- so much blood around her, on her, on him. Aelin sat on the floor, her phone beside her as the paramedic updated her on the ambulances location. But she couldn't listen, no, she was too busy watching the man she loved disappear right before her eyes. Sam's body was pale, the gaping gunshot wound in his abdomen leaking too much blood too fast. Aelin cradled his head as he struggled to breath, soothing him with little sayings and comforting noises. Her tears fell on his face as she kissed him, not able to let him go. He needed to be okay, he needed to respond to her sayings, he needed to tell her he loved her, he needed to survive. But as Aelin looked into those brown eyes, there was no light left within them anymore. Aelin couldn't help the sobs that escaped her. Her body wracked violently as --- she was shoved by the fighting men. 

 Arobynn and Dorian were battered and bruised, the men equal in build and skill. They were breathing hard, looking at one another with hate etched in their features. Then all of a sudden, Arobynn lunged at Dorian unexpectedly, leading him to swerve right into Aelin as she --- fell to the floor. Her head hit the blue sofa they had bought only a week ago, their apartment a new venture they had bought together. They had spent hours setting up their new home, hours of that work now destroyed as their apartment was wrecked beyond repair. Sam was in front of her in an instant, his body taking the impact of the shot meant for her. Blood splattered on her body, and Sam's fell to the ground with a thud. Aelin looked up from her position in the ground to see a hooded figure dash out their front door, backpack open and filled with their precious items. Aelin didn't even care about her missing jewelry, only worried about her love splayed out on the floor , blood pooling around his frame. She heard screaming, screaming coming from --- a beautiful red haired woman approaching the duo. She pulled Arobynn's arm, dragging him away from the other bloodied man on the floor. 

 Dorian was in bad shape, his face swollen with cuts and scratches dotted all along his arms and legs. All Aelin wanted to do was go to Dorian's side and help him, but as she looked at his splayed body she lost all her intentions. All she could see was her love on that floor. All she could see was Sam's blood draining from his body.

 Aelin felt lightheaded, the events of the night, combined with the various substances in her body exhausting her beyond belief. She walked away from Dorian to go find a place to sit, slowly losing reality once again. As she fainted, Aelin saw a tall tanned man rushing towards her. His sharp features contrasted the soft concern on his face and in those emerald green eyes. Aelin hit the floor with a soft thud, watching the man attached to that luscious silver hair run to her rescue. 

[myaekingheart]

80. Laid to Rest

🎶 Silent Song - Naruto Shippuden OST

               Rain pattered on the windowsill as Rei stared up at the ceiling, drowning in her own thoughts. Konoha felt so empty and quiet now that Naruto was gone, almost as if a death had swept over the village. She couldn’t get the day he left out of her head, the way she watched from afar as he and Jiraiya disappeared down the lane together. In a way, it all felt like the final scene of a movie where the screen would quickly fade to black and you would be left feeling as if nothing would happen in your life ever again. And yet there was something else, not quite an ending but the hint of a beginning. She closed her eyes and saw Kakashi gazing back at her the way he did that day and heaved a sigh. This was the beginning of a new era. Everything was about to change.

               When she sat up, she approached the windowsill and ran her fingers along the dried-up leaves of Naru’s chakra plant. It had been nine months since she had died and yet Rei couldn’t bring herself to let go. It was too much to bear. Now, however, a feeling of true acceptance had begun to take root. She had incubated her grief long enough. The time had finally come to birth that lump of self-hatred and sadness, rid herself of it once and for all. An emotional metamorphosis. Naru was gone and no amount of over-watering was going to bring her back. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting” she whispered, a sad smile touching her lips. “You’re probably so sick of me clinging to you like this. But it’s okay. I’m better now. I promise. And I’m finally going to give you what you want. I’m finally going to let you sleep.”

               The cemetery felt so empty, the ground still soggy and soft from the rain. She could feel the earth squish between every heavy footfall. Everyone else had already arrived by the time she reached Naru’s grave and a part of her felt guilty for having made them wait. The other part, however, knew she had a valid excuse. What lay before her required immense mental preparation. Just as there was a procedure for tethering chakra, there was a procedure for breaking it, as well. She had never severed a chakra bond before, let alone in the context of a death, and while she was confident in her technical ability, her emotional strength was questionable. How could she ever truly let Naru go? Rei tightened her grip on the little flower pot in her hands and sucked in a sharp breath. The entire world moved in slow motion.

               Sensing the uncertainty in her gaze, Chikara broke the stillness and strode forward. She placed a gentle hand on Rei’s shoulder and coaxed her nearer to their little group. “You know, you don’t really have to do this if you don’t—” she started but Rei immediately cut her off.

               “No” she insisted, perhaps a little more aggressively than she had intended. Shaking her head, she then added in a much quieter tone, “No, I-I have to do this. She deserves it. Really.”

               Chikara backed off then with a single, understanding nod. She hadn’t been sure what to say when Rei approached her with this whole idea, equally touched and torn. Missing Naru’s true funeral was something she could never forgive herself for, and every day since she cursed that awful lengthy mission that kept her at bay. Why did she ever think it was a good idea to leave? She should’ve known it was nothing more than a bad omen. And now she would never see Naru again—sweet, docile Naru, always so full of light and positivity. Chikara was certain she would’ve been heartbroken if she knew her own sensei had been absent at her funeral. At least this way, laying her flowers to rest, Chikara could finally say a proper goodbye.

               Rei dropped to her knees slowly before the tombstone, placing the flower pot between her thighs. She could feel the hot tears threatening to spill but forced herself to remain strong.  She glanced up to her audience, landing on each of their faces, and wondered to what degree they shared her pain. Chikara, of course, stood resolute but Rei could see the tiny cracks in her decorum. Beneath it all, however, there was an ounce of gratitude. This was a favor to her, too.

               Beside her stood Sekkachi with arms crossed, refusing to look at anything but Naru’s name etched onto the stone. That afternoon they shared here so many months ago still burned in Rei’s memory, the confession from Sekkachi’s lips as anger and resentment bubbled up from her core. The pain had dulled with time but never completely vanished. Rei knew she would never be forgiven, no matter what. It was just something she had to force herself to accept, in the same way she had to force herself to accept that Naru was truly gone. A pang of pain struck her chest, threatening to rise out of her throat like vomit, and Rei feared that perhaps she couldn’t do this after all. She moved on to the next face in the crowd before her resolve could dwindle to zero.

               Mikazuki watched on with modesty and composure. When their eyes locked, she fed Rei a small, encouraging smile. It was probably awkward for her to be here. She had no real ties to Naru other than the ANBU, but in the moment Rei had assumed that that was reason enough. Tenzo stood beside her with head bowed in respect. She had invited Yugao, as well, out of courtesy but work prohibited her from attending. Work, and perhaps the fear of revisiting her own grief for her dead lover, Hayate. It was a valid enough excuse.

               And then there was Kakashi. So much as a simple glance at him stirred up far too many extra feelings for her to manage at a time like this. Even when she wasn’t looking at him, though, she could feel his presence. It was calm and comforting and while it terrified her, it also fed her an unexpected strength to continue on. A reassurance that if she was to fall, he was guaranteed to catch her no matter what.

               The luminosity of the chrysanthemums before her had since shriveled and faded, flopping forward as if begging to be put out of their misery. She squeezed her eyes shut tight with pursed lips before wrapping her hands around the strong, thick stem. She could feel the weak pulse of Naru’s residual chakra beneath her palms and a yelp escaped her lips. Kakashi immediately started forward but Chikara whipped out an arm to block him, shaking her head minutely as a silent command to leave Rei be. This would take an incredible amount of concentration, especially in reverse, and as much as Chikara hated to see her own student in pain, she knew that once Rei began it was best to let her finish without interference. Kakashi tried to restrain himself but inside, his heart pounded. He could not lessen the tension in his muscles as he kept his eyes locked on Rei. She willed the trickling energy up the stem like a thick milkshake through a straw. Chakra was always easier to funnel into objects as opposed to out of them. A weak blue glow enveloped her hands as she siphoned the chakra into her body, disrupting her own chakra network in the process. It wasn’t enough to cause an overload but the chakra itself was clearly old and rotten, like the taste of spoiled milk sliding down her throat. Once she was certain all of the chakra had been purged from the plant, she rested her palms on the tombstone and released the energy in a slow, steady stream, returning it to it’s rightful owner. A twinge of anxiety punctured her as she felt her body empty itself of the foreign chakra, something malicious lurking beneath the relief. For a moment, she was desperate to cling to even the tiniest ounce of Naru’s energy, anything to keep her alive within her body, despite knowing that the presence of rotted chakra would undoubtedly make her deathly ill. But it would be such a small price to pay for a memento, wouldn’t it? Before she could further consider making the mistake, it was all gone. Her own chakra was cleansed, the flow returning to normal speed. Rei pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling a sob, as the consequential emptiness in the pit of her stomach overwhelmed her. She ripped a kunai from her holster and in one swift motion, severed the stem so that the blossom was officially disconnected from the roots. The dried-up petals fell to the ground slowly like snowfall.

               Rei’s chest heaved, clenching her fists atop her thighs, before she forced herself to her feet. She did not look anyone in the eyes. In a voice small and unstable, she announced, “It’s finished.”

               Mikazuki bowed her head in respect as Chikara leaned down to rest a hand atop Naru’s grave. A sad smile touched the woman’s lips as she whispered, “Sleep now, sweet girl.” She could feel the weight of her remorse disintegrate from her neck and shoulders, the sadness and regret washing away in the wake of Rei’s compassionate memorial. Chikara glanced up at Rei, then, only to find her eyes glazing over and her balance faltering.

               Kakashi surged forward to capture her in his arms before she could collapse. He cupped her cheek and tilted her face up to meet his gaze, asking “Are you alright?” She could hear the undercurrents of panic in his voice. There was hardly a hint of brightness in her eyes.

               “I’m f-fine…” she murmured. “I just…doing that takes a lot out of me.” Kakashi gave a single nod before Chikara rose to her feet and approached. She placed a gentle hand on the small of Rei’s back and in that moment, Rei could see she was fighting back tears.

               “Thank you for doing this” she whispered. “I can finally be at peace.” She brushed the long bangs out of her student’s face then and kissed her forehead like a mother to her child. And that was when Rei felt her shoulders shudder, her throat tighten, and the monstrous tears silently spill down her cheeks.

               This was all so melodramatic, Sekkachi felt uncomfortable just watching it all unfold before her. Perhaps her lack of ninjutsu made it hard to understand the implications of Rei’s chakra abilities, but either way no amount of well-intentioned homage was going to fix this. None of this was made Rei a martyr if that’s what she was after. None of this was going to change the fact that she was at fault for Naru’s death. If this made her feel at peace with her mistakes then fine, but she didn’t need to drag everyone else into it to validate herself. Granted, Sekkachi could’ve opted out of this. She didn’t care about hurting Rei’s feelings with a declination. And yet she felt obligated. She could stand to insult Rei, but her absence would in turn also be an insult to Naru and that she could not stand to do.

               “I’m sorry for your loss” a small voice then said, snapping Sekkachi from her ravenous thoughts. She whipped around to face Mikazuki standing beside her, eyes on the ground and fingers fidgeting. “I know you two were close. I can only imagine your grief.”

               This was all too much. All Sekkachi could manage to say was a half-hearted “Thanks.”

               “She really was something special” Mikazuki continued. “She was extremely talented. Whenever we worked together in the ANBU, she was always on top of things and knew exactly how to make us all feel confident in our abilities.”

               “Yeah, that’s great” Sekakchi scoffed. She rolled her eyes and increased the distance between them, hoping it would lessen the unnerving electricity pulsating between their bodies. It was that same sensation she felt the day the Akatsuki attacked, but she could tolerate it then. Now, it was inappropriate and unclean. Now it was a disservice to the grave right in front of her. If only it was possible to erase Mikazuki from the universe, to sell her timid little soul to the devil in exchange for Naru.

               Mikazuki’s face fell, recoiling in defeat. She tried to stammer out a response but to no avail. As she inched further from Sekkachi, however, she bumped right into Tenzo. A small, surprised sigh escaped her lips as he smiled softly at her as evidence that he was not perturbed. She saw in his eyes something warm and understanding, something she had perhaps instead hoped to find in Sekkachi. “She really was something special” he said. His eyes drifted back to the tombstone but she could still feel him focusing on her in his periphery. “She always had a way of making everyone feel welcome no matter what. She was a friend to everyone in the ANBU.”

               With wide, dumbstruck eyes, Mikazuki nodded slowly and uttered a soft, “Mmhmm.” She truly hadn’t expected this much from Tenzo. She knew him, of course, but not intimately. Not like this, outside of the required work interactions. In a way, though, he put her at ease. “I remember that night she invited me to the big sleepover in the dormitories” she then chuckled softly. “I was so unsure, but she made me feel like I was wanted there. And she always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better when you were sad.”

               As she overheard the conversation, Sekkachi seethed. How could they have anything to say to begin with? They hardly even knew her. Not like she knew her. They could likely name her favorite color (baby blue) or her favorite jutsu (Demonic Illusion: Hell Viewing Technique), but did they know that her mother used to brush her hair one hundred times while singing her lullabies every night before bed? Did they know that one time, on an espionage mission as the Tomiko Trio, she slipped onstage and her sandal flew off her foot and hit a man in the face? Or that on the rare occasion that she laughed far too hard, you could get milk to spew out of her nose? No, they were not privy to the most intimate details of her life and therefore had no place to reminisce about who they thought they knew.

               The sound of Rei and Chikara’s crying nearly made Sekkachi’s ears bleed. She couldn’t take any more of this. As she turned to finally leave, she met Chikara’s tearful gaze for only a moment. There was an inviting nature to her expression, a silent beckoning for her to join their mournful embrace. Sekkachi merely pursed her lips and kept walking. It was pointless. She did not need to wail and blubber and lean on anyone else like they did. Public displays of grief were only pleas for sympathy, and Sekkachi was not an attention-seeker. No, she would just go home to stew in her own bitter depression by herself like a dignified person. She glanced at them one last time over her shoulder before disappearing and couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous they all looked. Especially Kakashi.

               Normally, he would’ve felt awkward caught in the center of two wailing women like this but comforting Rei felt as normal as breathing. He rubbed small circles across her lower back and held her close, Chikara hugging her from the opposite side. For Tenzo, this was certainly a side of his comrade that he had scarcely seen before. He hadn’t expected Kakashi to be quite so warm and gentle but it was clear through his presence just how much he truly loved Rei. When Kakashi caught him staring, Tenzo dropped his eyes quickly but not before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. As he turned, his hand lightly brushed against Mikazuki’s and a small static shock surged between the two of them. Her cheeks burned red as she turned away, then muttered, “We should probably head out.”

               When things had finally calmed down, Kakashi brushed the hair out of Rei’s face and whispered softly “Let’s get you home.” She did not protest and together they slowly made their way back to her apartment.

               Once in the hallway, he watched her struggle to unlock the front door but refrained from helping her. He didn’t want to make her feel stupid or incapable. Besides, he needed to honor her desire for independence. When they stepped inside, the room felt cold and empty and Rei’s eyes immediately landed on the vacant spot where Naru’s chakra plant once stood. It would take a long time to get used to its absence, and the thought of it left her on the verge of yet another breakdown. Kakashi sensed her distress and placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her toward the bed and wrapping her up in a warm blanket. Without speaking, he turned and started some tea. Dirty dishes piled high in her sink and laundry was strewn across the floor. As the tea brewed, he opened a cabinet and pulled down a half-empty box of senbei crackers he knew she liked and poured some into a small bowl he recognized from when she was young. She murmured a soft thank you when he approached with the food and drink, watching her nibble and sip idly. A few minutes passed before she then asked quietly, “Kakashi…?”

               “Hmm?”

               “Can you do me a favor?”

               “What is it?”

               She sucked in a deep breath, pursing her lips, before shifting on the bed and requesting, "Can you, um…do you mind laying with me? For just a bit?”

               A small smile touched his lips as he scooted backward and curled up beside her, wrapping his arms around her. She wiggled her way out of the blanket just enough so that Kakashi could join her inside, and he obliged only because she seemed to want him to. He could feel her chest heave slightly and hear the quiet little whimpers of her crying and his heart broke for her. He rubbed her side and nuzzled the back of her neck until eventually, she drifted off to sleep. Passed out, she looked so sad and peaceful. He sat up and watched her for only a moment and his heart swelled. God, he loved her. He loved her so much. He glanced to the clock on her nightstand and knew he should probably head back home himself, but he didn’t want to think about his other obligations. He didn’t want to think about the mission he would be assigned in the morning or his own laundry needing to be washed. Right now, all that was important was this very moment here with her, watching her eyelids flutter and her fingers twitch. He wanted to cling to this scene for as long as possible so that nothing else could swoop in and ruin it. So that he could spend the rest of eternity by her side, just the two of them comforted within this liminal abyss.

[leafshining]

Saved (Lunyx)

This takes place at the end of Kingsglaive. I basically tweaked the ending because heck, why not? Luna can use magic, has a touch of playful sass, and Nyx gets pretty emotional. In other words...it’s a self-indulgent Lunyx blip.

After this moment, this experience, this...connection. I will send you off on your way. I will make it on my own from here. So kiss me. Kiss me with all you are right now.

Nyx Ulric hissed in pain as he gripped his leg, the long fall and slamming on the magitek armour probably wasn’t the best idea in the world to distract the enemy, but she came through in the end. He heard quick and rapid footsteps running towards him, Nyx craned his neck to see Lunafreya running over by his side and helping him up.

“Can you walk?” She asked him with a worried tone.

Nyx tested his bruised leg and gritted his teeth “It’ll pass.”

Lunafreya shook her head “That’s not good enough.”

“Princess, it’s okay-”

But Lunafreya wasn’t paying him any attention, she was looking around for something and then gripped his arm.

“We need to get inside that building.” She pointed to the building just down and across the road.

It was one of the buildings that didn’t have debris in front of the entrance or have completely turned to rubble. Nyx turned to her and gave her a questioning look, her gaze was worried, but her eyes were firm.

“Trust me.”

Nyx huffed and slowly trudged by her side, occasionally stumbling, but never falling down due to her help. He didn’t know what they would achieve by hiding out in an abandoned casino, but he knew that staying out in the open would attract too much attention, and his magic was gone. She pushed open the door and settled him down on a nearby couch, and she knelt down to Nyx’s surprise.

“Princess! What are you doing?” he gawked.

But he shut his mouth when she looked up at him with those soft eyes “Nyx, I don’t want you to lie, alright?”

Nyx gulped and nodded “I...okay.”

She placed her hands gently on his wretched leg “Tell me where it hurts.”

Smart girl, she didn’t want him to lie about his injury or the gravity of how it hurt. But what could she do? It was fruitless in trying to do anything about it. Nonetheless, he gestured from his thigh down to his knee. Repositioning her hands, she let out a tiny inhale and exhale and closed her eyes.

“Stars of light and life, tether the wounds made from strife.”

Nyx would have laughed at the rhyme she chanted if it weren’t for the sun golden glow emitting from her hands. He could feel a cooling relief from the glow and the pain dispersing. Nyx gaped and shot his gaze towards Lunafreya and she giggled.

“You can thank magic for that miracle, Glaive.”

Nyx snorted “You didn’t say you could use magic.”

Lunafreya bashfully looked away “I’m afraid it would be no use to you. I don’t quite know the arts of the offensive.”

Nyx slowly nodded “Right. But damn, you’re pretty capable, your highness.”

His leg felt good as new, he stretched and no pain came to pass. She smiled and Nyx could feel a fluttering of fleeting joy when he saw that smile. But unfortunately, he couldn’t stare for too long, they were in a race against an empire. Unsheathing his singular kukri, he took her hand and gripped it tight and they both made haste to section D of Insomnia.

But time ran out. Drautos--no, General Glauca had flipped the car over and had Libertus down for the count. Lunafreya had come rushing to his aid and held his hand, gripping it tightly. The first mistake to fate was him looking up at the Princess. Her face fierce and her hand managed to conjure a thin barrier which managed to deflect the General’s endless onslaught of deadly slashes.

Nyx could feel his soul burn, he was so helpless. He hated it, absolutely hated it. It had barely been two days since he had known the Princess. Yet here she was, putting all her faith in him by keeping him safe. So he grabbed the ring and without any other thought but to keep her safe, he put the ring on.

Then it all fell to dark.

Those moments would be etched in his head forever. He made a promise to his King and recklessly jumped into danger for the Princess. Now he was risking his life to burn out any other option that would leave him at a loss. So with brashness, he called out to whoever dragged him into this shadow void.

He chose a victory with a price. When he blinked back to real time, his hand instinctively flew up to conjure protect which turned into a sturdy shield and blasted the unrelenting General Glauca with a strong lightning blast. Lunafreya gaped in surprise and Nyx took hold of her hand, firmly, to express reassurance.

“Thanks. Princess, but I’ll take things from here.” Nyx gave her a grin.

“Nyx, I-I.” Lunafreya’s voice had stuck in the back of her throat when Nyx laughed.

His hand still holding hers, he gently pried her delicate fingers open and placed the ring in her palm “Stay safe, your highness. The world may not need a nobody like me, but it definitely needs you.”

Nyx turned around to avoid another fatal mistake, another glimpse to test his foolhardy head, another glance to have him act all reckless again, for her.

“You’re a hero.”

Nyx tilted his head and then stopped himself, he knew he didn’t need to look. He could already tell what was written all over her face, and he could feel a bit of guilt. This girl was subjected to such a heavy duty, and she was forced to leave another life behind, not knowing if he would live or not.

But when Libertus lead her away, he couldn’t help but look back, and she couldn’t either.

He chose another victory over the hopes of going back, he wanted to push away those thoughts. Through the pyre and ash, Nyx fought the man who taught him all he knew, and the man who was chained down by absolutely nothing but his past. When he landed that last blow and watched him die, Nyx could hear him utter the word hope, and he looked to the dawn.

Hope.

Nyx craned his head over the rubble to see the night in the distance. He raised his Kukri to the sky where he could see the split of night into day. Then a tiny voice whispered a “what if” in his head.

So he threw his kukri and he could hear it hit and stick in the rubble and tried to summon the will to warp. Nothing happened which left him a little disappointed. He felt too tired to ponder why he wanted to warp over, was it his body regretting leaving when he had the chance? The wish to go back home? The fear of dying?

He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. Crowe, Pelna, Selena...I’ll be there.

Not yet.

Suddenly he could feel his body crystallize and shatter, then come together again, a feeling that he was all too familiar with. He warped! He wasn’t out of it yet! A surge of energy coursed through his body and he picked up his kukri and stood up, staring off into the new dawn. Nyx threw his kukri into the air, going so high that he could see the waves of residents leaving Insomnia. But he knew one certain individual, he could see her radiant hair glow.

Well, damn. Why stop now?

When he warped down, just a little aways from her. She was standing with two dogs and a woman with dark hair and closed eyes. He could almost laugh out loud at the face she made, but he smiled warmly and approached her.

“Nyx…how?”

Her fingers brushed against his ashen arm and up to his cheek, noticing the flakes fading while the dawn was rising “...oh.”

“Sorry for getting your hopes up, Princess. But I at least wanted to see if you made it.”

She held onto his ashen hand “A part of me hoped, that you would actually stay by my side.”

Nyx didn’t know what to say, but he placed his hands just below her shoulders and smirked “You’ll make it.”

She then shook her head “I don’t want you to be a hero. I want to save Nyx Ulric.”

Lunafreya pulled away just to hold his bigger hands and frustration contorted on her face “All of my life I...I can save so many, but everyone else...they...I couldn’t.”

His form was beginning to flake and fade faster, but he laughed softly “Oh but you did...you did save me.”

Lunafreya looked up at him, with eyes that reflected the beautiful dawning sky, glossy with sadness “I don’t know what you mean. How can you say that I have saved you?”

Nyx laughed and lowered his head, almost ashamed of the tears that managed to escape. “I know I never asked anyone to call me a hero. But hearing you want to save me, it’s really overwhelming, Princess.”

Her soft hands caressed his hair, down to his jaw and played with his braid. Sorrowfully, she placed a tender kiss on his forehead, it was almost a crime to see such a beautiful thing get so close and personal with something so worn and torn. But it truly was a crime, a crime that both did not wish to admit.

The exhausted warrior still lifted his gaze to look at the pure maiden in front of him and slowly, gently, with utmost care, lifted and held her head to look at him.

“You saved me, Lunafreya.”

She couldn’t help but sob, realizing what he meant. Figuring it out what it meant when she saved him. Because at that moment, he saved her too.

He abandoned her title, as much as she had done with him. The Hero of the Kingsglaive who had saved many lives, including his comrades on the field. How he seemed to show no fear in the face of any danger. The Oracle of Eos who was a sovereign symbol of peace. A figurehead of healing across the world, the ideal role model.

That had all disappeared when he sealed his lips with hers, lovingly, fiercely, regretfully, and mournfully.

For at this moment, they were just Nyx Ulric and Lunafreya Nox Fleuret.

[pokeasleepingsmaug]

Ironside and Spell-weaver: Chapter 2

I tried to write an Ivar as a kelpie piece, but it just wasn’t working the way I wanted it to. Instead I decided to revisit my first ever Vikings fic and write a chapter 2 for it, I started it way back before Ivar took over my life haha. A slow burn Bjorn fic, since the sagas and history have no mention of Bjorn’s wife, and yet he’s the founder of a dynasty. And what makes him so untouchable, anyway?

But side note, it sucks because I don’t usually do first person, so this is more of an exercise for me to grow as a writer. I’m posting it because I’ve been pretty absent lately and I just really miss writing, and this is really all I’ve written lately.

AO3:http://archiveofourown.org/works/10534929/chapters/25019625

I jerked awake sometime later, heart pounding. I lay on a low pallet covered in furs, one of them pulled up around my shoulders. They weren't mine—they smelled of battle, the fearful sweat of men and horses, the iron tang of blood wiped hastily away. I drew a deep breath, hoping to calm myself, and opened my eyes.

I was in a tent, and no light shone from outside, so it must have been full darkness by now. The remains of a small fire glowed orange in the middle of the tent, weapons and a shield stacked carefully by the entrance flap. A powerfully built man sat by the fire, shoulders hunched. A knife glinted in one hand, and I strained to hear the soft scrape of the knife against the wood in his other hand. I sat, clearing my throat, and he straightened. “You're awake. I brought you to my tent to keep an eye on you.” His dark blue eyes appraised me, curious. “You gave my brothers and I quite a scare.” His voice was quiet.

I finally found my voice, shrugging, “It is nothing, it only happens sometimes when the magic is too strong. Blood-magic does it especially quickly. It is the price we sorceresses pay for the favor of the gods.” I stretched slowly, feeling his eyes on me still. “How long was I asleep?”

He chuckled lightly. “Well, if you didn't wake up soon, I was going to try to rouse you. We march in about an hour. I had your belongings brought,” he jerked his chin to a bundle beside his stacked weapons. “I thought you might want to freshen up. I have some water heated in the kettle near the fire, and I will leave. I have matters to attend to.”

“Thank you, my lord, and sorry to keep you from your bed,” I stammered, awkward and embarrassed. He shrugged his powerful shoulders, smiling easily at me.

“Do not trouble yourself. I will come to fetch you before we leave.” He stood and ducked through the entrance flap of the tent, leaving me alone. I rose from the pile of furs, shivering lightly in the chill of the late summer predawn. I found the warm water and a clean rag, and quickly washed myself. I pulled the tangles out of my hair with my fingers and hastily rebraided it over one shoulder. I looked down and inspected my clothes. I wore a simple tunic and leather breeches, easy clothes for traveling and much more durable than a dress. They didn't seem too dirty, and due to the scarcity of time for washing clothes while marching with an army, I decided to wear them for another day. Hopefully I would have time to wash them tonight.

I sat by the fire and held my cold hands over it, my grumbling stomach reminding me that I had passed out before I had the chance to eat dinner. I sat in silence for a few more minutes until I heard a voice calling me from outside. I quickly ducked through the tent flap, and found a grinning Bjorn waiting for me. He held the reins of a small bay horse, and he held them out to me with a flourish. “We captured this mare yesterday from the Saxons, and my brothers and I have decided to give her to you for your help in that victory. Also,” he reached into a pouch at his waist, and held out a hunk of crusty bread and a piece of cheese. “you need to eat.”

My mouth watered at the thought, and I took the food gratefully. “Thank you, my lord,” I let out between ravenous bites. He laughed, filling me with warmth, and I smiled shyly back.

“What will you name her?”

I tilted my head, seriously considering the question, as I finished my breakfast. “Victory,” I told him. He smiled, and cupped his hands to boost me into her saddle. He rested his hand lightly on my thigh as I settled on her back, and he nodded in approval as he looked up at me, withdrawing his hand suddenly.

“She was surely crafted for you,” he told me gruffly. And he whirled away to join his brothers without another word.

...

I had ridden by myself for most of the day, trailing behind and to the side of the army. We moved swiftly, and I had barely gathered a handful of henbane by the time we stopped to make a hasty camp. I left Victory tethered near a group of other horses, and was about to slip away to look for more herbs when I heard a voice hailing me. I cursed internally, sighing, and found myself face to face with Bjorn and his brother, Sigurd.

Sigurd led a nervous, sweating horse, the whites of his eyes rolling. I inclined my head slightly. “My lords, how may I be of service?” My gaze traveled between the brothers, and as my eyes met Sigurd's, I felt the familiar pull of magic in the pit of my stomach. He was a man born of a volva, the strangeness in his eye marking him as powerful. Had he been born a woman, he undoubtedly would have followed in his mother's footsteps.

“My horse is lame,” Sigurd explained. “Do you have healing skill?”

“Some, but a farrier would be a better one to tend an ailing horse.” I sighed, crossing my arms. “But I will try, since the magic of your mother is what brought you to seek me out. Though you try, you cannot always resist its pull.” I smiled at the startled look on his face.

Bjorn laughed, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Not every man can be born of a shieldmaiden,” he teased lightly. The remark stung more than it should have. I tried my best to ignore it, stepping forward and  reaching a hand to soothe the nervous horse. I bent and examined his long legs, running my hands down them to check for heat and swelling. I found it on his left foreleg, just above the hoof. “Here. He has a pocket of infection. I can fix this.”

I went to my nearby pack, looking carefully for the right herbs, my wooden mixing bowl, and my small dagger. I found what I needed, scooped up some dirt in my bowl, and added water. I crushed the dried herbs between my fingers, their musty, sweet scent tickling my nose, and I mixed the thick mud together into a poultice. I set the mixture down and picked up the knife. “Both of you should probably hold him for this. He won't like it.”

Sigurd eyed the knife, the red glint of fading sun along its edge, and looked like he was about to protest. I sent him my best glare, and he seemed to think better of it. At least one of the Ragnarssons knew when to keep his mouth shut.

I knelt and prodded gently at the leg, searching for the exact spot of the infected pocket. My fingers found it after a few moments, and I drew the small knife in a quick slash over it. The skin broke beneath the point, and the stallion screamed in anger. I jumped back quickly, expecting him to lash out but he did no such thing, only trembled. Murmuring soothing nonsense, I bent quickly back to my work and squeezed around the cut. Thick yellow pus oozed out, tinged pink with blood and smelling putrid. I wrinkled my nose, but kept on until the pus stopped coming. I quickly slathered the poultice over the wound. The sweet herbs would draw out any remaining infection, and I wrapped a mostly clean bandage around it.

I stood, wiping my dirty hands on my breeches. I felt like nothing I owned was clean, except my beautiful staff. It gleamed, wiped with a soft cloth every night and oiled every few days. “He will be fine, just don't ride him for a few days. Lead him beside you, or put him with the packhorses.”

“Can't you keep an eye on him, Alfhild? He is in under your care now, after all,” Sigurd wheedled. I sighed, eyeing the horse apprehensively, and nodded shortly. Who was I to go against the wishes of princes? Sigurd handed me the reins, thanking me. “He will not interfere with your plans tonight, I hope?”

“And if he did, would it change your mind, my lord?” I rolled my eyes, already knowing the answer. “I have to weave some protection charms for you and your brothers tonight, but he should be little trouble.”

“That horse is a beast,” Bjorn warned. “His name is Hrafn.” I tied the stallion next to my grazing mare, glaring darkly at him.

“If he harms my mare, his name will be Sacrifice,” I answered. Bjorn laughed, even white teeth flashing in the twilight.

“Do not bother making a protection charm for Ironside here,” Sigurd teased. “He is already invincible.”

“If I am so untouchable, brother, how is it that I have so many scars? Maybe the snake in your eye interferes with your vision.” Bjorn teased, a warning note running under the light tone. Apparently his nickname—or its apparent untruthfulness—was a raw nerve for the eldest prince.

“Perhaps I shall make his charm first,” I countered.

“But he is already untouchable!” Sigurd protested.

“And what if your untouchable Ironsides is killed? What would your enemies say then?” I challenged. I could not tell them the real reason my fingers itched to weave his charm, the reason that brought me to the Saxon land in the first place.

Sigurd seemed to consider this, then nodded. “I suppose you are right.”

Bjorn squinted off toward the horizon, jerking his head toward the front of the army. “We should go. We have plans to discuss with our brothers. Good night, Alfhild.” And scarcely bothering to spare me a glance, the sons of Ragnar walked off. I eyed the grazing black stallion, mentally kicking myself. As if I didn't have enough to worry about, I had to go and get stuck with an extra horse.

[bobbynolanios88]

What happened to bitcoin in 2018?

What happened to bitcoin in 2018?

It seems all too fitting that Facebook’s plans to launch a digital coin were leaked in the second-to-last week of a year that saw the tech giant’s reputation pummeled and cryptocurrencies crash and burn. It’s like grilling a shit sandwich on top of a dumpster fire.

Bitcoin–and the cryptocurrency industry as a whole–plunged this year, after a gravity-defying surge in recent years. The price of the digital coin hit nearly $20,000 late last year. And then in early 2018, it began to fall. Though it hit a few plateaus, the price has still tumbled; today it hovers at a little over $3,000.

So what happened? And is there any hope for a recovery? To answer both, you have to look at quite a few factors.

The bubble

When bitcoin was rising last year, it seemed like a trend everyone from your grandmother to your barista was suddenly becoming hip to. Of course plenty of folks cautioned that it could be a bubble, but it’s always hard to realize such a thing when you’re in the midst of it. It’s free money, right? Why not get in on it? (Just don’t remortgage your house!)

All the signs, however, were there. Like previous bubbles, people were basing their belief in the cryptocurrency on their emotions, not any intrinsic value. Then there was the FOMO element, which only compounded things. Essentially, bitcoin became an international fever. Random companies were “pivoting to blockchain” for no apparent reason other than that it seemed like a way to create buzz. But when the bubble bursts, FOMO turns into fear of losing, which makes for an especially rapid plunge.

Among those who called it, hedge fund manager Mark Dow wrote almost exactly a year ago about his decision to short bitcoin after future trading on it first began:

But this time feels different. It feels like a bubble. The fever in the post-Thanksgiving moonshot ran hotter than we’d seen before. We also began to see a robust supply response.

Bubbles are complex dynamics. What they all have in common, however, is they require emotion to truly go parabolic. Moreover, the less we understand the object of the bubble, the greater the scope for greed and FOMO to fill in the blanks.

Dow, at the time, simply could not come up with a good reason for the crypto’s insane performance. The only logical explanation: It’s a bubble. His views were especially prescient. He told Bloomberg this month that he made a profit twice due to this canny call.

Other early warning signs

But to understand the dynamic that led to this year’s depressing year for crypto, we actually should start a few years before 2018. In bitcoin’s early days, Mt. Gox was the go-to service for handling transactions. Then, in 2014, it halted transactions and slowly copped to a crypto-hack to the tune of $473 million, the biggest hack of its kind at the time, and it gave many people pause. But it was still early enough for people to believe that the blockchain system was still getting all the technical kinks out.

But the hacks didn’t stop. In 2016, the DAO–a blockchain organization that was based on Ethereum–lost what was worth $50 million at the time, due to a technical error someone seized upon. This, once again, sent shockwaves through the community–but also had the unfortunate impact of normalizing these types of hacks for some people.

At the end of 2017 and beginning of 2018, more people–especially those in the mainstream finance world–were paying attention to bitcoin and cryptocurrency trading. And in early January 2018, the Japanese exchange Coincheck disclosed a hack worth a whopping $534 million. This happened right around the time that bitcoin slipped from its peak value, and it certainly seemed to accelerate its drop.

According to Stephen Innes, the head of Asian trading for the foreign exchange Oanda, hacks were the first element to have a chilling effect on crypto. Hearing the amount of money that thieves were able to take, he says, “Consumers got very concerned that their money could go missing.”

In the wake of both Coincheck’s hack–as well as a big one that hit the South Korean exchange Coinrail–governments in East Asia began to crack down. Over the course of a few months, China, Japan, and South Korea all announced different measures to better regulate crypto-trading. The world was watching to see if this new technology would hit the mainstream–and government crackdowns following gigantic hacks helped poison the public perception.

Indeed, following its nearly $20,000 peak, bitcoin in early 2018 dropped to around $10,000 and hovered there for a while.

Lack of institutional support

Beyond the clampdown by some governments, what bitcoin really needed to achieve sustained success was overall mainstream acceptance. While some financial institutions announced projects exploring blockchain-based solutions, many others balked.

JPMorgan CEO Jamie Dimon, for instance, made multiple comments throughout the year expressing his general antipathy for cryptocurrency. Dimon’s thoughts could most easily be summed with this quote: “I don’t really give a shit about bitcoin.” Warren Buffett also didn’t have kind words–calling it “probably rat poison squared”–which almost certainly sent a clear message to curious investors.

When some of the most respected people on Wall Street make comments like that, it “takes a huge element of mainstream out of the market,” says Innes. Essentially, these heavy hitters were telling their minions that bitcoin wasn’t worth their time.

Meanwhile, there has been plenty of speculation that bitcoin’s big rise may have been due to a pump-and-dump scheme. One theory that the U.S. Justice Department is reportedly looking into is that the digital coin Tether (which is supposedly pegged to the U.S. dollar to make for a less volatile cryptocurrency) was used to manipulate the bitcoin market and cause a large run-up in price. This theory stems from an academic paper, which cast Tether in a very damning light. And it also led many to believe that the initial bitcoin craze was manufactured and destined to bust.

Another institutional hit for bitcoin–which probably had the most sustained effect–was the SEC’s refusal to approve a bitcoin exchange-traded fund (ETF). This would be a path for more mainstream people in finance to dabble with blockchain; it would allow investors to dip their toes in bitcoin without owning the actual asset. Not only that, but it would make bitcoin available on the most prominent financial markets. The U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), however, has yet to allow such a fund to exist–mostly because it is unable to monitor crypto-transactions in order to avoid market manipulation.

The inability to get SEC approval really held back bitcoin and cryptocurrencies in general. It sent the message, says Innes, “that there wasn’t underlying support from Wall Street.” Meanwhile, the price dropped from around $10,000 to $6,000.

Internal battles

But it wasn’t just outside pessimism that led to the slump, but infighting as well. Blockchains are decentralized, and democratic systems require buy-in from participants in order to keep the engines running. When there’s a schism that can’t be decided by the majority, all hell breaks loose.

In 2016, this became apparent with the DAO hack. One way to fix the problem was to implement what’s known as a “hard fork,” which would essentially update the Ethereum-based software to fix the technical gaffe that caused the hack to begin with. But DAO users had to agree to this change, and there were dissenters. Though the hard fork was approved, it created two active blockchains with two different sets of rules. Ultimately, this hack–coupled with the inability to deal with it–caused the DAO to end in 2016.

This year we saw a similar fight break out–this time over bitcoin cash. This coin, mind you, is not bitcoin, though it is built on the same architecture. It was created by a group of miners who disagreed with some of the fundamentals of the initial bitcoin system, and so they forked a new blockchain and went their own way. In terms of market capitalization, bitcoin cash has always been one of the top cryptocurrencies–in the ranks of Ethereum and XRP.

This past autumn, the bitcoin cash community–which was created due to a technical disagreement with the larger bitcoin sector–started a civil war. Essentially, bitcoin cash developers had diverging views on the software update for the system, and so they decided to implement another hard fork. This created two new bitcoin cash sects. Internally, the fork caused a lot of strife; one of the most popular bitcoin alternatives was unable to reach a consensus, and instead had to create two different paths that would essentially go to war with each other.

When the hard fork arrived–and participants had to choose which path to take–the entire cryptocurrency market dropped. This is very likely what caused bitcoin to drop from the $6,000 range to around the $3,000-$4,000 range. Which brings us to today, with the cryptocurrency bottoming out at less than 80% of what it was a year ago.

Is there any hope?

We’re certainly in a much different place now than we were 12 months ago. What was a hot commodity has turned into a hot potato nobody wants to touch. Still, this almost certainly won’t be the end for bitcoin, or cryptocurrencies as a whole. Despite the realization that it was a bubble, even the toughest critics see some sort of a future.

Dow, the man who first shorted bitcoin, for instance, even mentioned in his initial post that a person can be “simultaneously bullish on blockchain and bearish on bitcoin.” And he just announced that he’s ending his short.

Meanwhile, even the most enthusiastic bitcoin evangelists are realizing that a retooling is in order. Michael J. Casey, a senior adviser for blockchain research at MIT’s Digital Currency Initiative, recently wrote about how the crypto-winter has arrived, but it may lead to better things down the line:

The good news is that the glare of public opinion will eventually dissipate, and that as the spotlight diminishes, real developers will find themselves in a healthier environment within which to do the work needed to unlock this technology’s potential. We saw a similar period of constructive building during the 2014-2016 hiatus.

But whatever new products are produced, they will now have a harder time struggling with acceptance. Whether we like it or not, message and image are important.

That seems to be the overall message from most. Even Innes, who has been critical of bitcoin and crypto-trading for quite a while, admits that this doesn’t mean the blockchain is bunk. He, in fact, sees things looking up. “If this base can hold,” he says, “[the price will] start drifting up.” But not because of fervor or blind faith that bitcoin is the future, but due to advances on the technology side.

“This is a legitimate technology–it’s going to expand,” he says, “My longer-term view is nowhere near where some of [my current] views are.” It could even perhaps hit $10,000 again, he says. But that will probably take a few years. For now, we wait and see.

Original Source http://bit.ly/2A9H9vq

[adrianjenkins952wblr]

What happened to bitcoin in 2018?

What happened to bitcoin in 2018?

It seems all too fitting that Facebook’s plans to launch a digital coin were leaked in the second-to-last week of a year that saw the tech giant’s reputation pummeled and cryptocurrencies crash and burn. It’s like grilling a shit sandwich on top of a dumpster fire.

Bitcoin–and the cryptocurrency industry as a whole–plunged this year, after a gravity-defying surge in recent years. The price of the digital coin hit nearly $20,000 late last year. And then in early 2018, it began to fall. Though it hit a few plateaus, the price has still tumbled; today it hovers at a little over $3,000.

So what happened? And is there any hope for a recovery? To answer both, you have to look at quite a few factors.

The bubble

When bitcoin was rising last year, it seemed like a trend everyone from your grandmother to your barista was suddenly becoming hip to. Of course plenty of folks cautioned that it could be a bubble, but it’s always hard to realize such a thing when you’re in the midst of it. It’s free money, right? Why not get in on it? (Just don’t remortgage your house!)

All the signs, however, were there. Like previous bubbles, people were basing their belief in the cryptocurrency on their emotions, not any intrinsic value. Then there was the FOMO element, which only compounded things. Essentially, bitcoin became an international fever. Random companies were “pivoting to blockchain” for no apparent reason other than that it seemed like a way to create buzz. But when the bubble bursts, FOMO turns into fear of losing, which makes for an especially rapid plunge.

Among those who called it, hedge fund manager Mark Dow wrote almost exactly a year ago about his decision to short bitcoin after future trading on it first began:

But this time feels different. It feels like a bubble. The fever in the post-Thanksgiving moonshot ran hotter than we’d seen before. We also began to see a robust supply response.

Bubbles are complex dynamics. What they all have in common, however, is they require emotion to truly go parabolic. Moreover, the less we understand the object of the bubble, the greater the scope for greed and FOMO to fill in the blanks.

Dow, at the time, simply could not come up with a good reason for the crypto’s insane performance. The only logical explanation: It’s a bubble. His views were especially prescient. He told Bloomberg this month that he made a profit twice due to this canny call.

Other early warning signs

But to understand the dynamic that led to this year’s depressing year for crypto, we actually should start a few years before 2018. In bitcoin’s early days, Mt. Gox was the go-to service for handling transactions. Then, in 2014, it halted transactions and slowly copped to a crypto-hack to the tune of $473 million, the biggest hack of its kind at the time, and it gave many people pause. But it was still early enough for people to believe that the blockchain system was still getting all the technical kinks out.

But the hacks didn’t stop. In 2016, the DAO–a blockchain organization that was based on Ethereum–lost what was worth $50 million at the time, due to a technical error someone seized upon. This, once again, sent shockwaves through the community–but also had the unfortunate impact of normalizing these types of hacks for some people.

At the end of 2017 and beginning of 2018, more people–especially those in the mainstream finance world–were paying attention to bitcoin and cryptocurrency trading. And in early January 2018, the Japanese exchange Coincheck disclosed a hack worth a whopping $534 million. This happened right around the time that bitcoin slipped from its peak value, and it certainly seemed to accelerate its drop.

According to Stephen Innes, the head of Asian trading for the foreign exchange Oanda, hacks were the first element to have a chilling effect on crypto. Hearing the amount of money that thieves were able to take, he says, “Consumers got very concerned that their money could go missing.”

In the wake of both Coincheck’s hack–as well as a big one that hit the South Korean exchange Coinrail–governments in East Asia began to crack down. Over the course of a few months, China, Japan, and South Korea all announced different measures to better regulate crypto-trading. The world was watching to see if this new technology would hit the mainstream–and government crackdowns following gigantic hacks helped poison the public perception.

Indeed, following its nearly $20,000 peak, bitcoin in early 2018 dropped to around $10,000 and hovered there for a while.

Lack of institutional support

Beyond the clampdown by some governments, what bitcoin really needed to achieve sustained success was overall mainstream acceptance. While some financial institutions announced projects exploring blockchain-based solutions, many others balked.

JPMorgan CEO Jamie Dimon, for instance, made multiple comments throughout the year expressing his general antipathy for cryptocurrency. Dimon’s thoughts could most easily be summed with this quote: “I don’t really give a shit about bitcoin.” Warren Buffett also didn’t have kind words–calling it “probably rat poison squared”–which almost certainly sent a clear message to curious investors.

When some of the most respected people on Wall Street make comments like that, it “takes a huge element of mainstream out of the market,” says Innes. Essentially, these heavy hitters were telling their minions that bitcoin wasn’t worth their time.

Meanwhile, there has been plenty of speculation that bitcoin’s big rise may have been due to a pump-and-dump scheme. One theory that the U.S. Justice Department is reportedly looking into is that the digital coin Tether (which is supposedly pegged to the U.S. dollar to make for a less volatile cryptocurrency) was used to manipulate the bitcoin market and cause a large run-up in price. This theory stems from an academic paper, which cast Tether in a very damning light. And it also led many to believe that the initial bitcoin craze was manufactured and destined to bust.

Another institutional hit for bitcoin–which probably had the most sustained effect–was the SEC’s refusal to approve a bitcoin exchange-traded fund (ETF). This would be a path for more mainstream people in finance to dabble with blockchain; it would allow investors to dip their toes in bitcoin without owning the actual asset. Not only that, but it would make bitcoin available on the most prominent financial markets. The U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), however, has yet to allow such a fund to exist–mostly because it is unable to monitor crypto-transactions in order to avoid market manipulation.

The inability to get SEC approval really held back bitcoin and cryptocurrencies in general. It sent the message, says Innes, “that there wasn’t underlying support from Wall Street.” Meanwhile, the price dropped from around $10,000 to $6,000.

Internal battles

But it wasn’t just outside pessimism that led to the slump, but infighting as well. Blockchains are decentralized, and democratic systems require buy-in from participants in order to keep the engines running. When there’s a schism that can’t be decided by the majority, all hell breaks loose.

In 2016, this became apparent with the DAO hack. One way to fix the problem was to implement what’s known as a “hard fork,” which would essentially update the Ethereum-based software to fix the technical gaffe that caused the hack to begin with. But DAO users had to agree to this change, and there were dissenters. Though the hard fork was approved, it created two active blockchains with two different sets of rules. Ultimately, this hack–coupled with the inability to deal with it–caused the DAO to end in 2016.

This year we saw a similar fight break out–this time over bitcoin cash. This coin, mind you, is not bitcoin, though it is built on the same architecture. It was created by a group of miners who disagreed with some of the fundamentals of the initial bitcoin system, and so they forked a new blockchain and went their own way. In terms of market capitalization, bitcoin cash has always been one of the top cryptocurrencies–in the ranks of Ethereum and XRP.

This past autumn, the bitcoin cash community–which was created due to a technical disagreement with the larger bitcoin sector–started a civil war. Essentially, bitcoin cash developers had diverging views on the software update for the system, and so they decided to implement another hard fork. This created two new bitcoin cash sects. Internally, the fork caused a lot of strife; one of the most popular bitcoin alternatives was unable to reach a consensus, and instead had to create two different paths that would essentially go to war with each other.

When the hard fork arrived–and participants had to choose which path to take–the entire cryptocurrency market dropped. This is very likely what caused bitcoin to drop from the $6,000 range to around the $3,000-$4,000 range. Which brings us to today, with the cryptocurrency bottoming out at less than 80% of what it was a year ago.

Is there any hope?

We’re certainly in a much different place now than we were 12 months ago. What was a hot commodity has turned into a hot potato nobody wants to touch. Still, this almost certainly won’t be the end for bitcoin, or cryptocurrencies as a whole. Despite the realization that it was a bubble, even the toughest critics see some sort of a future.

Dow, the man who first shorted bitcoin, for instance, even mentioned in his initial post that a person can be “simultaneously bullish on blockchain and bearish on bitcoin.” And he just announced that he’s ending his short.

Meanwhile, even the most enthusiastic bitcoin evangelists are realizing that a retooling is in order. Michael J. Casey, a senior adviser for blockchain research at MIT’s Digital Currency Initiative, recently wrote about how the crypto-winter has arrived, but it may lead to better things down the line:

The good news is that the glare of public opinion will eventually dissipate, and that as the spotlight diminishes, real developers will find themselves in a healthier environment within which to do the work needed to unlock this technology’s potential. We saw a similar period of constructive building during the 2014-2016 hiatus.

But whatever new products are produced, they will now have a harder time struggling with acceptance. Whether we like it or not, message and image are important.

That seems to be the overall message from most. Even Innes, who has been critical of bitcoin and crypto-trading for quite a while, admits that this doesn’t mean the blockchain is bunk. He, in fact, sees things looking up. “If this base can hold,” he says, “[the price will] start drifting up.” But not because of fervor or blind faith that bitcoin is the future, but due to advances on the technology side.

“This is a legitimate technology–it’s going to expand,” he says, “My longer-term view is nowhere near where some of [my current] views are.” It could even perhaps hit $10,000 again, he says. But that will probably take a few years. For now, we wait and see.

Original Source http://bit.ly/2A9H9vq

[courtneyvbrooks87]

What happened to bitcoin in 2018?

What happened to bitcoin in 2018?

It seems all too fitting that Facebook’s plans to launch a digital coin were leaked in the second-to-last week of a year that saw the tech giant’s reputation pummeled and cryptocurrencies crash and burn. It’s like grilling a shit sandwich on top of a dumpster fire.

Bitcoin–and the cryptocurrency industry as a whole–plunged this year, after a gravity-defying surge in recent years. The price of the digital coin hit nearly $20,000 late last year. And then in early 2018, it began to fall. Though it hit a few plateaus, the price has still tumbled; today it hovers at a little over $3,000.

So what happened? And is there any hope for a recovery? To answer both, you have to look at quite a few factors.

The bubble

When bitcoin was rising last year, it seemed like a trend everyone from your grandmother to your barista was suddenly becoming hip to. Of course plenty of folks cautioned that it could be a bubble, but it’s always hard to realize such a thing when you’re in the midst of it. It’s free money, right? Why not get in on it? (Just don’t remortgage your house!)

All the signs, however, were there. Like previous bubbles, people were basing their belief in the cryptocurrency on their emotions, not any intrinsic value. Then there was the FOMO element, which only compounded things. Essentially, bitcoin became an international fever. Random companies were “pivoting to blockchain” for no apparent reason other than that it seemed like a way to create buzz. But when the bubble bursts, FOMO turns into fear of losing, which makes for an especially rapid plunge.

Among those who called it, hedge fund manager Mark Dow wrote almost exactly a year ago about his decision to short bitcoin after future trading on it first began:

But this time feels different. It feels like a bubble. The fever in the post-Thanksgiving moonshot ran hotter than we’d seen before. We also began to see a robust supply response.

Bubbles are complex dynamics. What they all have in common, however, is they require emotion to truly go parabolic. Moreover, the less we understand the object of the bubble, the greater the scope for greed and FOMO to fill in the blanks.

Dow, at the time, simply could not come up with a good reason for the crypto’s insane performance. The only logical explanation: It’s a bubble. His views were especially prescient. He told Bloomberg this month that he made a profit twice due to this canny call.

Other early warning signs

But to understand the dynamic that led to this year’s depressing year for crypto, we actually should start a few years before 2018. In bitcoin’s early days, Mt. Gox was the go-to service for handling transactions. Then, in 2014, it halted transactions and slowly copped to a crypto-hack to the tune of $473 million, the biggest hack of its kind at the time, and it gave many people pause. But it was still early enough for people to believe that the blockchain system was still getting all the technical kinks out.

But the hacks didn’t stop. In 2016, the DAO–a blockchain organization that was based on Ethereum–lost what was worth $50 million at the time, due to a technical error someone seized upon. This, once again, sent shockwaves through the community–but also had the unfortunate impact of normalizing these types of hacks for some people.

At the end of 2017 and beginning of 2018, more people–especially those in the mainstream finance world–were paying attention to bitcoin and cryptocurrency trading. And in early January 2018, the Japanese exchange Coincheck disclosed a hack worth a whopping $534 million. This happened right around the time that bitcoin slipped from its peak value, and it certainly seemed to accelerate its drop.

According to Stephen Innes, the head of Asian trading for the foreign exchange Oanda, hacks were the first element to have a chilling effect on crypto. Hearing the amount of money that thieves were able to take, he says, “Consumers got very concerned that their money could go missing.”

In the wake of both Coincheck’s hack–as well as a big one that hit the South Korean exchange Coinrail–governments in East Asia began to crack down. Over the course of a few months, China, Japan, and South Korea all announced different measures to better regulate crypto-trading. The world was watching to see if this new technology would hit the mainstream–and government crackdowns following gigantic hacks helped poison the public perception.

Indeed, following its nearly $20,000 peak, bitcoin in early 2018 dropped to around $10,000 and hovered there for a while.

Lack of institutional support

Beyond the clampdown by some governments, what bitcoin really needed to achieve sustained success was overall mainstream acceptance. While some financial institutions announced projects exploring blockchain-based solutions, many others balked.

JPMorgan CEO Jamie Dimon, for instance, made multiple comments throughout the year expressing his general antipathy for cryptocurrency. Dimon’s thoughts could most easily be summed with this quote: “I don’t really give a shit about bitcoin.” Warren Buffett also didn’t have kind words–calling it “probably rat poison squared”–which almost certainly sent a clear message to curious investors.

When some of the most respected people on Wall Street make comments like that, it “takes a huge element of mainstream out of the market,” says Innes. Essentially, these heavy hitters were telling their minions that bitcoin wasn’t worth their time.

Meanwhile, there has been plenty of speculation that bitcoin’s big rise may have been due to a pump-and-dump scheme. One theory that the U.S. Justice Department is reportedly looking into is that the digital coin Tether (which is supposedly pegged to the U.S. dollar to make for a less volatile cryptocurrency) was used to manipulate the bitcoin market and cause a large run-up in price. This theory stems from an academic paper, which cast Tether in a very damning light. And it also led many to believe that the initial bitcoin craze was manufactured and destined to bust.

Another institutional hit for bitcoin–which probably had the most sustained effect–was the SEC’s refusal to approve a bitcoin exchange-traded fund (ETF). This would be a path for more mainstream people in finance to dabble with blockchain; it would allow investors to dip their toes in bitcoin without owning the actual asset. Not only that, but it would make bitcoin available on the most prominent financial markets. The U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), however, has yet to allow such a fund to exist–mostly because it is unable to monitor crypto-transactions in order to avoid market manipulation.

The inability to get SEC approval really held back bitcoin and cryptocurrencies in general. It sent the message, says Innes, “that there wasn’t underlying support from Wall Street.” Meanwhile, the price dropped from around $10,000 to $6,000.

Internal battles

But it wasn’t just outside pessimism that led to the slump, but infighting as well. Blockchains are decentralized, and democratic systems require buy-in from participants in order to keep the engines running. When there’s a schism that can’t be decided by the majority, all hell breaks loose.

In 2016, this became apparent with the DAO hack. One way to fix the problem was to implement what’s known as a “hard fork,” which would essentially update the Ethereum-based software to fix the technical gaffe that caused the hack to begin with. But DAO users had to agree to this change, and there were dissenters. Though the hard fork was approved, it created two active blockchains with two different sets of rules. Ultimately, this hack–coupled with the inability to deal with it–caused the DAO to end in 2016.

This year we saw a similar fight break out–this time over bitcoin cash. This coin, mind you, is not bitcoin, though it is built on the same architecture. It was created by a group of miners who disagreed with some of the fundamentals of the initial bitcoin system, and so they forked a new blockchain and went their own way. In terms of market capitalization, bitcoin cash has always been one of the top cryptocurrencies–in the ranks of Ethereum and XRP.

This past autumn, the bitcoin cash community–which was created due to a technical disagreement with the larger bitcoin sector–started a civil war. Essentially, bitcoin cash developers had diverging views on the software update for the system, and so they decided to implement another hard fork. This created two new bitcoin cash sects. Internally, the fork caused a lot of strife; one of the most popular bitcoin alternatives was unable to reach a consensus, and instead had to create two different paths that would essentially go to war with each other.

When the hard fork arrived–and participants had to choose which path to take–the entire cryptocurrency market dropped. This is very likely what caused bitcoin to drop from the $6,000 range to around the $3,000-$4,000 range. Which brings us to today, with the cryptocurrency bottoming out at less than 80% of what it was a year ago.

Is there any hope?

We’re certainly in a much different place now than we were 12 months ago. What was a hot commodity has turned into a hot potato nobody wants to touch. Still, this almost certainly won’t be the end for bitcoin, or cryptocurrencies as a whole. Despite the realization that it was a bubble, even the toughest critics see some sort of a future.

Dow, the man who first shorted bitcoin, for instance, even mentioned in his initial post that a person can be “simultaneously bullish on blockchain and bearish on bitcoin.” And he just announced that he’s ending his short.

Meanwhile, even the most enthusiastic bitcoin evangelists are realizing that a retooling is in order. Michael J. Casey, a senior adviser for blockchain research at MIT’s Digital Currency Initiative, recently wrote about how the crypto-winter has arrived, but it may lead to better things down the line:

The good news is that the glare of public opinion will eventually dissipate, and that as the spotlight diminishes, real developers will find themselves in a healthier environment within which to do the work needed to unlock this technology’s potential. We saw a similar period of constructive building during the 2014-2016 hiatus.

But whatever new products are produced, they will now have a harder time struggling with acceptance. Whether we like it or not, message and image are important.

That seems to be the overall message from most. Even Innes, who has been critical of bitcoin and crypto-trading for quite a while, admits that this doesn’t mean the blockchain is bunk. He, in fact, sees things looking up. “If this base can hold,” he says, “[the price will] start drifting up.” But not because of fervor or blind faith that bitcoin is the future, but due to advances on the technology side.

“This is a legitimate technology–it’s going to expand,” he says, “My longer-term view is nowhere near where some of [my current] views are.” It could even perhaps hit $10,000 again, he says. But that will probably take a few years. For now, we wait and see.

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