#Tia Arctic

[hersupremacy]

when you play with your partners fluffy ears, don't be surprised when he returns the favour

[deadonarrival]

Okay SOOOOO tlsp is a British supergroup started by Alex Turner and miles Kane of formerly the rascals and the little flames (whom of which met at a 2005 Arctic monkeys show after they were the opener for Arctic and miles and Alex noticable became closer started be around eachother everyday pretty much after that miles also features on early songs 505 ,plastic tramp and more) and James Ford and other musicians later Zach Dawes Loren etc etc come in it was created in 2008 with the release of age of the understatement with banger singles "standing next to me" "my mistakes were made for you" and "age of the understatement" they went on tour for about a few weeks nothing big afterwards miles works on his successful solo career the monkeys release what would be three albums in-between the eventual! "Everything that you've come to expect " in 2016 spurring on even MORE gay shit if that was possible with singles like "bad habits" title track and the infamous "miracle aligner" and it's internet breaking video and that rlly cemented the fact that oh shit these bitches are really gay dujvuchcv and like there's SO much more like so many little things between miles and Alex and like with will be even longer than it needs to be but like ........eycte tour ........a goldmine...I leave u with this the infamous Coachella kiss that got them promptly banned from Coachella ♥️ (there's also way more kisses lmao ahhsjxhxj)

> of formerly the rascals and the little flames

Is that what "remember when you used to be a rascal" references in fluorescent adolescent? Really makes you think.................. ........... ..

This is an insanely good summary lmao THANK YOU bc god knows it would've taken me ages to find out all this stuff on my own. They got banned from coachella for one (1) kiss?? That's so fucking funny. Iconic behaviour

I didn't know Miles features on 505 either :O I fucking love that song so much

[privategurlsblog]

The Bad Thing - A.T

Not suitable for minors, 18+

Warnings: Oral (m receiving)

PLOT: Alex has a hard time resisting the temptress of the town

Part One of The Cheating Heartbeat series.

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"There she is!"

Alex's good friend and one of Arctic Monkeys' roadies David, calls out to Tia, his wife of two years. But despite that, she's been a part of the group for much longer. It had been a while since the others had seen her, usually she stayed put in Sheffield.

"Boys," Tia fluttered her fingers at them and shot Alex a wink, all lightheartedly of course. They'd known her forever, she'd always been a flirt right since school. None of them had been remotely surprised when five years after they left for stardom, David said he'd been seeing her. In fact, no one had. The only thing that surprised people was how David managed to tie her down.

She went round the boys and gave them each a hug, lingering a kiss on each of their cheeks and leaving blushes in her wake. She'd always had them under her thumb, along with every other man in her sights.

Alex looked to David, who was already preoccupied with showing somebody the toilet in their farmhouse mansion on the outskirts of the city. A far cry from their middle class houses in High Green, but it was their life now. And Tia certainly didn't mind it.

"How are you then Ti?" Alex asked her, trying to make conversation as Nick's girlfriend stole him away and Matt went to get Tia a drink. She slid into his empty seat next to Alex, turning to face him, her back against the arm rest and a glint in her eye.

"You have had quite the glow up Alexander," she hummed, ignoring his question. He sat uselessly as her gaze raked down his body, he felt naked under it and shifted awkwardly in his seat. Women didn't make him nervous these days but Tia was a special exception.

"Thanks," he smiles, keeping it short.

He wanted to return the compliment but sensed a can of worms screaming to be opened. But she did look good. All long legs and a body carved from the Gods, double D's, yet she had the slimmest of figures. Alex had always found her attractive but she'd been so far out of reach back when they were young, and now she wasn't his to appraise.

"Bet you get a lot of women eh? Being the front man...." she continues to fish and Alex pouts his lips and then lets out a nervous chuckle.

"Suppose so, yeah," he shrugs, "but I'm not interested in all that."

Tia throws her head back in a laugh that clouds the entire room for Alex. The bellow like an earthquake that's shattered all sense of where he is, he eyes her cautiously, nervously sipping on his beer as a means to distract himself.

"Bollocks Alexander, who wouldn't be?" she says, with a glint in her eye.

Matt soon returns with the drinks and Alex relaxes as she averts her attention. Still, throughout the night he finds his gaze wandering back to her. A hand on one man's arm, a thigh touching another's, she really knew how to work a room. Men were staring at her, some of David's oldest friends unable to contain their ogling. And Alex supposed he wasn't much better.

This time though, she catches his eye. He thinks he must be dreaming when her eyes grow wicked. Even from across the patio he can see the darkness taint them. He swallows, realising there's a lump in his throat and shifts in his seat. Managing to pull his gaze away but only momentarily before it returns and there she is again, corners of her lips lifted in the slightest of smirks as she raises her glass to her mouth, lips encasing around the pink swirly straw sticking out of her drink. Alex feels a flurry of heat crawl through him, even feels a twitch in his trousers signifying that this is affecting him more than he knew.

He's completely flustered by the time a few hours roll around, slightly hazy from the drinks he's tried to stomach but his stomach is recoiling with misplaced lust and he hates himself for it. Taking himself to the toilet, he locks the door behind himself and hunches over the sink, widening his eyes at his dishevelled appearance. He wonders whether it's normal to be so affected by someone who hasn't even touched him, nor said a word to coax the lust from him. But it's always been discreet with Tia and that's what makes it all the more appetising.

Alex knows that she's well aware of the effect she has on men but finds himself wondering if David has any clue. David usually has a temper, and if pushed too far he will say something. Surely he's noticed how provocative his own wife is, sauntering around the party sucking straws intended to make his friends squirm?

But thinking about her lips encased around that straw only makes Alex squirm more, squeezing his eyes shut as if to clear the memory but it only intensified it. Before long he knows he's fully hard beneath his jeans, uncomfortably pressed against them like his cock is threatening to punch a hole through and expose him for his sordid thoughts.

A knock on the door sounded out and Alex panicked, shuffling back from the sink, he quickly readjusted himself and hoped his arousal wouldn't be obvious. It was useless really, the jeans were so skintight they'd probably have to be sawed off him. But he hoped the person interrupting his private moment wouldn't bother to look. He opened the door quickly, plans to shuffle out on his mind but he was stalled by the person behind it.

Tia stood with her drink in her hand, a smirk on her lips and eyes that knew all. When Alex met her gaze, he felt his mouth drop open and his cheeks heat. They glowed red, made obvious by the blue light of the bathroom.

"Are you alright love? You looked a bit flustered out there, thought I'd come and check on you," Tia said, though her seductive tone didn't match her caring words. Alex fumbled for something to say. He didn't know yet whether it was okay to address the elephant in the room. In fact, he knew it wasn't okay.

"Um....yeah I'm fine," he struggles a smile, wincing when he feels a droplet of sweat fall from his hairline to the peak of his jawbone, "sorry. Just the drink I think."

"Do you want some water?" She pouts in return. He could barely pull his gaze from her dark brown eyes, her irises practically swallowed her pupils and so they looked as black and sinister as he assumed of her. Her skin was smooth and pale, and she had the smoothest of honey coloured hair that framed her face so she looked so innocent, especially with those pouty lips that were extenuated by her display of sorrow.

"No Tia. I just....I better head off. Not feeling well," he tried to shove past her, annoyed by how she was making him feel. Alex wasn't the submissive type, he didn't like being controlled, he liked to be in control. Yet it had completely ebbed away at the mere sight of her and he hated it.

She caught him by his arm, glancing up at him through her long black coated lashes, her cheeks lifting as she smiled.

"But I haven't seen you in ages," she whines, yet her voice is quiet. Alex glances around, the hallway is lacking of any light, he'd used the upstairs bathroom even though it was out of bounds to guests, he knew David wouldn't mind.

"Right," Alex swallowed, trying to refocus but her grasp on his arm was distracting him, her devil red acrylics digging into the shirt covering his upper half. He glances down at her grip, his breath quickening which doesn't go unnoticed by the provocative woman, intent on keeping him nervous.

"You really do look all flustered sweetheart, why don't you have a sit down," Tia suggests, her tone full of mockery as she pushes an extremely weak Alex further into the bathroom. He stumbles backwards, in disbelief as he watches her close and lock the door behind him before pushing him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. He knew she was flirting tonight, but acting on it is a whole other situation.

"What are you doing Tia?"

Alex cringed at the sound of his voice, though clearly shocked and even a hint of warning in there, he could also hear the desire strong. The thickness indicating that he was aroused which surely wouldn't be missed by her for she was looking for it, the one coaxing it even.

She doesn't reply, just stands before him with her hands on her hips, looking down on him with a sultry smirk and humour filled eyes.

"You're not very good at hiding your desire Alexander," she drawls, her red tipped fingers spreading out across his forehead where his sweats of perspiration have leaked through, a shiny sheen to his skin glistening under the light. She chuckles, swiping her fingers across the skin until they're in his hair, fingers engraved through as she strokes it back from his head. The sweat he's broken into has loosened the gel, making her hand slick through easily and she grips the roots making Alex let out a rather embarrassingly soft whimper.

"I don't know what you mean," he swallows nervously as she meets his eyes, looking amused by his denial. She's a seductress in top form, her red lined lips lifting into a perfect smile.

"I think you do," she hums, and then her fingers begin trailing down his head, over his eyes which flutter shut at the sensation of her warm fingers against his damp skin, running over his lips where she feels the shallowness of his breath. Her thumb swiping over his jaw, fingers trailing down his neck to the little bit of chest he has exposed from his open shirt.

"Tia," it's meant as a warning but comes out as a rather desperate tone. She ignores him, fingers now trailing down his arms until she reaches his hand, engraving her fingers through his she lifts his floppy arm until his hand is rested on the curve of her waist. He doesn't grip it but doesn't let his hand drop either, even when she pulls hers away to balance her hands on his shoulders and lean over him slightly. He feels so seduced, he can barely breath in the stifling heat of the bathroom. His trousers getting tighter by the second, hips shuffling on the edge of the bathtub to relieve some of the ache.

"I've seen the way you've been looking at me Alexander," she says quietly, her voice low and now rather than the mockery in her tone it's been replaced with thick lust that Alex's breathing stops at the sound of. She's going to kill him, "you know you can have me....if you want."

"But what about Dave?"

Alex can't believe his own words, ones of consideration, ones that suggest something might actually come of this show she's putting on for him. He meets her eye like she's got all the answers.

"David's not here is he?"

Alex grips her waist then, hard. His grip bruising and she lets him pull her closer to him. Still hovering over him, her face bowed towards his, Alex cranes his neck to reach her lips and finally lets himself kiss her. He's moaning instantly, his other hand raising to the back of her thigh which he grips hard, unawares of the marks that will taint her skin from how strong his touch is. She leans further into him, her tongue swiping the seam of his lips and deserving dominance as he opens his mouth to her. He almost falls backwards when she takes his bottom lip between her teeth, biting down hard until he can taste metal in his mouth and his eyes roll into the back of his head, a grunt of painful pleasure leaving his mouth. She swallows it right up, pulling him up by his shirt, pressing her body into his. Alex pays no mind to the fact that her red lipstick is smearing all over his face, sure to stain. He's too caught up in the moment that he'd been avoiding all night long.

Her hand trails down his chest as they kiss, unbuttoning his shirt in its wake. Alex barely notices, he's too busy pressing his hips into hers, chasing her with them. It's mindless at this point, he's completely driven by his desire. When her nails scratch down his chest he shivers and moans into her mouth which is when she pulls away, kissing the corner of his lips to his jaw, sucking on the sensitive skin, down to his neck where she finds his sweet spot instantly like she's attuned to him, a kitten lick over the rough skin where stubble gently lies, a small nip before a suck and another lick.

Alex is a mess, sweating and moaning crazily beneath her, his own hands rubbing circles over the fabric of her dress, wishing he could slide his hands up the skirt and feel her creamy skin for himself. Her hand comes to rest on the waistband of his jeans, the tip of his cock poking out of the top where he'd tried to hide it earlier and she chuckles against his skin, thumb swiping over the moist tip as Alex shudders and his head falls onto her shoulder.

"I reckon you could do with some relief, sweetheart, don't you?"

Alex watches as she sinks to her knees effortlessly, hands taking place on each side of his hips as her gaze stays fixed on him. He moans so loud, he's afraid it might reverberate off the walls of the bathroom and echo down to the unknowing guests, making them aware of his sordid immoral actions. She unbuttons his jeans, struggling carefully with the zip so not to catch him on it, and then pulls his cock out of his boxers, her eyes widening with satisfaction when she sees it slap against his stomach, fully hard. He's well endowed and she smirks at the sight of him, going as far as to lick her lips like he's the tastiest of treats.

"Do you want me to suck your cock Alex?"

He can barely form a coherent sentence as he gazes down at her, his hand reaching out to stroke the soft hair covering her face. He puts it behind her ear, and upon seeing her there he can't refrain - rather than replying, he very softly nudges her head towards his waiting cock, dripping in anticipation. Her tongue darts out to swipe over the end and that's enough to have Alex's hips jolting towards her. His hand entwines with her hair, resting atop her head so he can control her movements but she takes her own approach. She takes the tip of him in her mouth, slowly swirling her tongue around and around his cock. Alex is squirming above her, but she holds his hips in place against the shower glass, not letting him control her. She hums around his cock, pulling free which Alex whines at.

"You taste so good," she groans. All humour has faded from her eyes, now she looks wanting for him, and he tries to ignore the gold band glistening on her wedding finger as she wraps her delicate little hand around the base of his thick cock. Slowly moving the skin up and down, making Alex's head bash against the shower door in frustration but equally the pleasure is palpable.

"How long have you wanted after me Alexander?" She says, her voice quiet and levelled, a far cry from the shakiness and lust in Alex's moan as he opens his mouth to speak just when she dips her head down and swirls her tongue over him again, her hand working the bottom of his cock. He's desperate to sink all the way into her mouth and he's sure she knows it. He can't help but debate why she's taking her time when they likely don't have much of it, but he's not complaining in his aroused state. She pulls off again, leaving him breathless from the taste of what he could get, yet she raises her eyebrows expectantly.

"I-I don't want after you," he denies, shaking his head.

"Hmm looks like you do," she says, devilish eyes flickering from his cock back to his and Alex grunts in dismay.

"You're gorgeous, obviously," he answers her, but his words aren't coming out right. He's stuttering, not with nerves now but with lust. The promise of his release burning the tip of his tongue, preventing him from being able to form a coherent sentence. She's loving it too, giggling at the sight of him before returning to her antics. But this time, she does let him sink right to the base of her throat, opening it up to him. The warm wetness of her mouth enveloping around him, the inside of her mouth soft yet her tongue running down the underside of his cock, sends Alex's hips straight off the wall. His hand pressed to her head, desperation overtakes him. He finds himself pushing as far as he can into her throat, hips jutteriny out only to sink back inside.

She moans, clearly liking the way Alex can't refrain from fucking her mouth roughly, the slick sound of her spit against his slick skin filling the air, intensifying the situation. He's lost himself now, her skilled tongue working wonders on him and he places both his hands on her head while he thrusts into her mouth.

"Oh fuck," he groans out, "you're so fucking good at this doll."

Tia giggles around his cock, her speech coming out all muffled which only serves to turn Alex on more, if that's even possible. He's so close now, his stomach coiling with pleasure, his skin shiny with sweat. The air is sordid, stained with sex and deceit and suffocatingly sexy for them both. Even Tia is affected now, hips lifting up and down like she's bouncing on an imaginary cock.

"So sexy, so so sexy," Alex is mumbling now, not really aware of the things he's saying. His hips start to lose their rhythm but Tia carries it on, her free hand coming to cup his balls and fondle with them as she chokes on the rest of his cock. And then when she swipes her tongue right over a sweet spot on the head of him, Alex can't hold on for a second longer.

"Tia, fuck, I'm gonna cum," his voice is urgent, expecting her to pull away from him but she never does, just halts at the very base of his cock. Alex's entire body shudders as the pleasure rolls over him in intense, endless waves, his release warm as it coats the back of Tia's throat. He doesn't move his hips once through his orgasm, just holds onto her hair so tight that it's painful and slams his head back against the shower door, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed red raw and lips swollen from the blood rushing around his body, the orgasm so intense his ears are ringing. Little whimpers leaving his mouth as Tia sucks him dry, not letting him pop from her mouth until she's milked every last bit of his orgasm from him and he's shuddering from overstimulation.

He doesn't move a muscle, not even when Tia pulls off, licking her lips for dramatic effect and gazing up at him with a certain darkness. She's aroused too, her nipples hardened under the fabric of her dress, but she doesn't aim to let him touch her, he knows that without even trying. She heads over to the mirror to fix her lipstick, leaving Alex in a right state against the shower door. He's exhausted, not only from the act itself but from the hours of being hard and horny. He tucks his sore cock back into his jeans, quickly buttoning up his T-shirt.

Once Tia is done fixing her lipstick, adjusting her dress, sorting her hair out - she looks pristine, like nothing at all has happened. Her cheeks slightly flushed could easily be explained by the glass of Prosecco that she brung to her lips, gulping the liquid.

Her gaze rakes over him one more time, the smirk having returned though less intense now, more like she knows something he doesn't.

"You look an absolute state gorgeous, ought to sort yourself out."

With that she unlocks the bathroom door, not even checking to see who could be around before striding out with her glass in hand, exactly the same as she had strided in. He hears her heels smacking against the wood floor as she strides down the stairs and he sighs, both in relief and annoyance to have her out of his sight.

He locks the door quickly, looking in the mirror to see his eyes lazy, glazed over still and he can imagine they'll remain like that all night. His hair is an absolute state, looking identical to how it does after he goes for a run and he's been dripping with sweat for an hour straight. His shirt still unbuttoned and a lovebite formed on his neck. He groans, happy that when he buttons his shirt all the way to the top, it hides the embarrassing detail.

It's ages before a nervous Alex gains the courage to return to the party, stopping off in the kitchen on the way to down another glass of wine. He can't believe what's just happened, wondering if he'd been in such a lust fuelled daze that he'd imagined it all and it was his own hand coaxing his release. But he knows it wasn't. He could never have imagined how good her mouth would feel wrapped around him. How skilfully her tongue could run down his length. How beautiful her gaze to look fixed to him as it was in that moment that she watched him cum for her.

"There ya are! Bloody hell, thought you'd done a runner!" David exclaims, rounding the corner with a grin. He looks half cut. Alex feels the guilt immediately gnaw at the sides of his stomach, almost crippling him.

"Just needed a minute," Alex struggles to get out. David is too drunk to notice the strain in his voice or the redness of his cheeks as he fumbles for a response. Alex can't meet his eye, too nervous that he just might know, even though it's clear David's been up to other things in the meantime.

"Oh yeah, T mentioned you weren't feeling too hot," he says, gesturing to his wife who is waltzing into the kitchen, laughing alongside Matt's wife. Dave holds his arm out to her and she nuzzles underneath it, eyes fixed on Alex as she spreads her palm over his chest.

"What's that?" She asks him, having heard him briefly mention her name.

"Oh just that you said Alex wasn't feeling too good," he replies, grinning down at her like she's his entire world. Alex can't handle it, his eyes dart away and he feels his skin crawling with unease, but at the sound of her voice ringing out, his gaze returns to the sordid seductress;

"I think he's feeling much better now. Right, Al?"

🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤

A/N: this was originally written as her being Jamie’s wife but I couldn’t handle it, lol.

I also don’t imagine this as AM Alex but thought this GIF was cute (how young does he look? 🥲) enjoy 🙂‍↕️

[t1asstuff]

welcome to my blog •

about me: ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

my name is tia ‎♡‧₊˚

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

movies: the goldfinch, the perks of being a wallflower, 500 days of summer + the maze runner trilogy ♥︎

tv shows: shameless, hannibal, top boy, YOU, dexter, the walking dead, prison break, gotham, sons of anarchy, wayne, snowfall + teen wolf

music: arctic monkeys, billie eilish, lil peep, deftones,the smiths, nirvana, lana del rey, radiohead + a lot more!

what i post:

• girly tweets

• coquette themed things

• dollette themed things

• fairycore

• quotes

•relatable posts for girls

• fashion inspo

• girlblogging

this is a safe place and my inbox is open to anybody ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

[gnael]

it’s that time of year again… 🎄🎅🎉🎊 no. the highlights of your 2023 media consumption of course! just like last year, i want to know your top 5 films, books, tv shows, songs/albums, pop culture moments if that’s your thing, and as a bonus: any favourite personal moment/achievement in the last year? new to you, new in release, either works! can’t wait to see your response and wishing you a happy new year! 😁🩷

imo !! (happy belated birthday💗)

I'll alternate between top 3s and 5s.

MUSIC🎧🎶

I quite literally listened to my spotify wrapped 22 for this entire year but some highlights came from demi's album

substance

skin of my teeth

eat me

classics that have appeared in multiple spotify wraps

top 5+: lemon baby and boyfriend by maasho, close the door by weston estate, honey by kehlani, fools by madison beer, 505 by arctic monkeys, motivation by normani, since u been gone by kelly clarkson.

BOOKS📖

stay with me by ayọ̀bámi adébáyọ̀ - this is currently my favorite book and probably will be for a long time. the story is fascinating, the characters are solid, well thought out, and developed. their flaws and problematic behavior make them feel real. a lot of things are unexpected but always have a purpose I thoroughly enjoyed this book and need my own copy asap.

seven days in june by tia williams - I understand the hype for this book, and I'm so glad to have read it. it made me want to read more romance. I have my qualms with some formatting decisions but at the end of the day solid solid book/story/characters.

three women by lisa taddeo - a lot of people need to read this book.

honorable mentions: american spy by lauren wilkinson, brokeback mountain by annie proulx, he started it by samantha downing, truths I never told you by kelly rimmer

PERSONAL ACHIEVEMENTS🧘🏽‍♀️🩷

got the job :)

managing my mental illnesses!

knitted two scarves

boxing is fun

yoga is fun too

[astrology-bf]

Oînops Póntos

(CW: Death Mention, Chronic Pain, Spoilers for MSQ between Heavensward and Shadowbringers)

Like the wine-dark sea.

G’raha Tia - the Crystal Exarch, rather - couldn’t quite recall where he’d first read the term; some ancient book of lore in Noumenon, all things considered, as a man of as many years and many ways as he had forgotten more than most would learn. That those words in particular remained to him was not for any useful purpose: indeed, he’d quite forgotten the context. But he nonetheless recalled the phrase with perfect, crystal clarity because of just one moment when his life was changed forever. He had been talking to the Warrior of Light, looking at the Hyur’s face and listening to him speak when a single thought had crossed his mind…

His eyes are like the wine-dark sea.

He didn’t quite recall the conversation when it happened in entire, for that matter; he remembered that they’d talked of books and faith, and on the very merest whim he’d decided to tease Ifan with an idle guessing game. Who was his patron? Oschon. Ifan had gotten it in one, and when he explained his reasons (aside from the rather obvious fact that G’raha was himself an archer), he’d said…

“Tis more that you seem the sort to look to the Wanderer for aspiration. To what he represents, rather: adventure, travel, freedom.” 

Ifan knew him. He cared enough to know. And he’d come to the gradual realization that Ifan made him happy: his company, his words, his smile, his scent… And those eyes… Like the wine-dark sea.  And even if he didn’t know it at the time a ravenous thirst had begun to gnaw in G’raha Tia’s chest: to leap into that wine-dark sea, his wine-dark sea, and drink until he drowned.

That sea was now in G’raha Tia’s mind as he leaned against a pillar in the Pendants, counting down the seconds so that his arrival at the room where the Warrior of Light was staying would seem a happy accident rather than suspicious. Specifically, the way his wine-dark sea had looked when he’d beheld it for the first time in more than fourscore years - when he’d arrived just in the nick of time, ere the argument that Ifan and Lyna were engaged in took a more literally combative tone. Though he’d done his best not to build up his expectations, he couldn’t stop the memories of those happy days before he’d gone to sleep when he and Ifan had been friends… and more, for at least a night. His wine-dark eyed magician: eyes that gleamed and glistened when he laughed, stormed and roiled when he raged, and how they’d surged and swelled when he was under G’raha’s hands and tongue beneath the stars. A sweet memory stained bitter by the nature of their parting, but still sweet nonetheless. That was until the moment that G’raha had beheld the Hyur’s eyes upon the road, when they’d lain eyes upon him for the first time since that vision where he’d sent Ifan his summons. His wine-dark sea… cold and still as arctic ice. It took him all his strength not to let out a breath of agony at the sight, made worse knowing that he was certainly in part responsible for Ifan’s darkened mood. After having cleared up the confusion, G’raha - the Exarch, rather - had begun to walk his Warrior of Light towards the Crystarium’s gate, where they could speak along the way. G’raha had spoken first.

“Right, then. Before we plunge into the wheres and wherefores, let me first-” he started, turning towards Ifan only to find himself cut off.

“Stop talking.” Ifan had stated, sharply. His tone was cold as it dared the Crystal Exarch to do just the opposite.

G’raha hadn’t answered.

Ifan stared at him in silence before approaching with his arms crossed, using the advantage of his height to look down upon the Exarch as he spoke. “I want to make something clear to you.” he began, voice even but still dripping at the seams with feelings G’raha couldn’t quite identify but burned fiercer than the aqua fortis used in study at the Studium. “I’m not your friend, and I’m not here because I owe you anything. I’m only putting up with you insofar as is necessary to get the job done, because I’m here to do that - a job: save my friends, and stop a Calamity, in that order. And the first thing that needs to happen to service that is that I need to keep a promise, so the next words that come out of your mouth are going to be to tell me where Alisaie is, followed by the relevant information I need to get to her. -Then- you can waste my time with whatever eft shite speech you’ve been practicing to try and talk me down from knocking your teeth out. Do you understand?” His lips were set in a flat line, and those wine-dark eyes had G’raha crushed under a thalassic weight of ire.

A moment’s pause had passed ere G’raha dared to speak. “...I understand. Perfectly.” he answered, clearly.

The magician had then nodded, seeming satisfied. “Good. Start talking.” 

He wouldn’t have blamed Ifan if he had punched him. He’d have preferred it, actually: it would have been less painful than the way the man he loved looked and spoke to him, however much he’d earned it. But his own pain was, as always, a mere afterthought. Right now the pain that needed due attention was that of his new guest’s.

Ifan had a lot of scars, physical and otherwise. Most were fairly small, barely visible markers of the company of talented healers such as Alphinaud and Krile, but a few injuries had been so bad that A-Towa-Cant himself would have found not leaving a trace utterly impossible: a deep diagonal slash across the chest from Elidibus in Zenos’ body, a bullet wound from Yotsuyu in Doma Castle, a gash across a shoulder blade from Nidhogg at the Final Steps of Faith. But the worst was the scar on his lower left side that marked the point at which his public legend had begun: a wound inflicted by one of Ifrit’s very fangs. A wound so deep the primal’s very essence had corrupted Ifan’s tissues and rendered portions of the scar more like a fire crystal than a thing of flesh. Aether would build within the scar as Ifan lived from day to day causing aches and pains of varying levels… but G’raha still remembered certain days during their time together in Mor Dhona where the Hyur had woken from his bed to find himself on the edge of immobility. Healing, elixirs, even somnus when it became too much: a private struggle that the Warrior of Light fought nearly every day and known by none save those he trusted with his care. 

Today was such a day, it seemed. Two days since Ifan had returned from Amh Araeng where he’d gone to reunite with Alisaie and learned exactly what it meant to live upon the First at the cost of Tesleen in her totality. G’raha had no doubt the stress of those events had helped trigger Ifan’s latest flare-up, and blamed himself for bringing Ifan here so that he’d had to witness such a thing. But he’d do his best to set things right, and that was why he’d come.

Ifan had missed their scheduled meeting in the morning. Worried, G’raha had used the mirror in the Ocular to check upon his guest… and his heart had ripped in two as he’d seen the sight of Ifan sweating and struggling to simply stand. It had taken every mote of personal restraint within both halves of him, crystal or otherwise, not to sprint immediately to the Pendants and burst in on his hero, offering his assistance. Instead he’d calmly made his way down Syrcus Tower to the Dossal Gate, then took a leisurely stroll while screaming at himself within his head to hurry up. And now he waited patiently near Ifan’s room, counting down the seconds, trying to think of Ifan’s eyes and not the barely audible hisses, groans, and winces that his hooded ears could nonetheless pick out from the magician’s room.

It had been long enough. G’raha took a breath to steel himself, then made his way to the door and raised his crystal arm to rap upon it with a vitreous tap, to signal his arrival.

A pause. G’raha heard Ifan take a deep breath to try and calm himself. “Who is it?” called Ifan, unable to hide the strain within his voice.

“‘Tis merely I. Is aught amiss? You had mentioned you wished to speak this morning.” replied G’raha as casually as he could, referring to their scheduled discussion.

Ifan swore under his breath. “Aye, just… Give me a bit. I’ll be out soon.” replied the magician, before G’raha heard him grunt as he began to force himself to get his day started.

This was the risky part, where he’d need to put what little trust the Crystal Exarch had earned from Ifan on the line: where he’d need to ask Ifan to share something private. “Is everything alright? You seem… a little strained.” He kept his tone as light as he could, not letting his knowledge or concern show in the slightest.

The magician gave no answer to begin with. Then there was a rather defeated sigh, and G’raha couldn’t stop his lips from parting slightly at the pain within his former lover’s voice. “...Is there a healer I can see?” asked Ifan with manifest hesitation.

“Of course.” answered G’raha immediately. “Have you an injury? I profess some small talent with the healing arts, though I would not remotely presume to have earned your trust. Should you prefer, I am more than happy to escort you to Spagyrics for treatment instead.” he offered. 

Another pause. Then G’raha heard a grunt followed by a shuffling before the shutting spell that the mage had put upon the door was disengaged. It opened, and G’raha’s heart ripped another time as he saw the sheer strain on Ifan’s sweat-slicked face. “I’m fine with you taking a look.” said the magician with a hesitant little nod. G’raha guided Ifan to a chair where he could sit and fetched him a washcloth he could use to wipe his face while the Exarch attended to his injury. Ifan gave some explanation - not that he knew G’raha didn’t need it - and had braced himself for what was doubtless going to be an uncomfortable process of rebalancing his aether: a task that fell to Krile most of the time, he had explained, as he’d yet to find a better healer by his estimation.

While G’raha knew from his own acquaintance just how talented Miss Baldesion was, he had one small thing that she didn’t when it came to Ifan’s wound: time. A lot of it. A hundred plus years of it, in fact. And while most of it had been spent on what was needful for the task of preventing a Calamity, a not insubstantial count of days had gone towards poring over every medical text and treatise he’d brought with him from the Source or discovered on the First - experimenting and refining so that when the time came to meet his champion again, he’d give the man he loved so much that he dreamt of him for decades something that, to G’raha Tia’s mind, was an utterly trivial gift. 

The shock on Ifan’s face as G’raha began healing told him otherwise. “...What did you do?” he gasped. The magician proved himself unable to stop a few tears from rolling down his cheeks at sheer relief. Not gone, it likely never would, but for the first time in what seemed to be years it felt like he could actually take a breath. “Gods… Oh, gods…”

“I am merely pleased that my middling skill is of use to you.” said G’raha as he did his best not to cry in turn at seeing Ifan’s relief, much less stop his ears and tail from going wild beneath his robes. 

“Middling ? Gods, you could teach Krile a thing or two…” gasped Ifan as he leaned forward on the table and took a series of deep breaths. “Thank you. Thank you…”

“‘Tis no trouble in the least. I should be happy to render such a service whenever you require.” answered G’raha with a faintly damp edge to his voice, meaning every word.

Ifan nodded with his eyes closed as he relaxed. Minutes passed in silence as the Exarch healed his champion, and Ifan spent the seconds savoring the heretofore unknown levels of relief he was now feeling. At length, he spoke. “I’m sorry for being so rude to you. Back when we first met, on the road.” he said, quietly.

G’raha shook his head. “You are more than entitled to anger after my actions.” he insisted.

Ifan chuckled mirthlessly. “You aren’t wrong.” he joked. “It wasn’t just you, though. Lately things have just been… a mess.” He sighed and shook his head.

G’raha knew he should simply express his condolences and keep focused on his task, but seeing the pain still swirling his wine-dark sea… “As I said, I would not presume to have remotely earned your trust. But I should be more than happy to lend my ears if you’ve need of someone to listen, my friend.”

“Friend?”

The Exarch froze as he realized what he’d said. “...I apologize, I-” he began.

Ifan shook his head and smiled. “‘Tis alright. You’ve already got my shirt off, aye?” he snickered, and G’raha couldn’t help but smile faintly in return at the reminder that the man he loved still fundamentally hadn’t changed. “In all seriousness, I do appreciate the help you’ve given me and the others. I don’t mind if you call me a friend, especially now.”

G’raha found himself wanting to weep. But he simply smiled and nodded gratefully. “‘Tis an honor to be granted such a privilege, my friend. You’ve my word I shan’t abuse it.”

The magician scoffed and chuckled. “Not really a privilege, I usually prefer being friends with people rather than enemies.” he replied.

“One of your many admirable qualities.” answered G’raha instinctively, before recalling Ifan’s words. “But I forget myself. You were speaking of your troubles, apologies.”

“No offense taken. You’ve excellent bedside manner.” said Ifan with a strained half-smile and a nod. Then he looked straight ahead, leaning forward against the table as the Exarch attended to his scar. “It started back when we rescued Y’shtola from the Lifestream, back in the Twelveswood.” he began, knowing the Exarch had likely been told of those events from his prior conversations with the Scions ere Ifan had himself arrived upon First. “I started thinking that maybe things could go back to how they used to be, before the Banquet. And I think I latched onto that hope because…” He paused again. G’raha gave him room to speak. “Maybe if things could go back that far, they could go back to how they were before the Praetorium. When I still remember feeling normal.” admitted Ifan quietly.

G’raha felt his heart wrench in his chest, but a hundred years of practice helped him keep his calm. “You do not feel so?” he asked, as gently as he could as his fingers almost imperceptibly shook from the strain of not embracing the other man.

Ifan shook his head. “Sometimes it feels like Ifan Kaleid really did die down there, and the Warrior of Light is who walked out. A thing you can boil down to aether and people’s faith in it, same as any primal.” he said, tone quiet and bitter with long-digested fears.

“As a poor substitute for a physician, I will say you do not strike me as anything less than a man.” offered G’raha, as he cursed his impotence.

The magician glanced back towards the Exarch with a humorless but nonetheless appreciative nod. “Thanks…” Then he sighed and turned his head away. “We got Y’shtola back. We got Thancred back. Eventually got Yda - Lyse, rather - and Papalymo, at least for a little while.” Ifan couldn’t hold back the pang of grief in his voice when he uttered the name of Louisoix’ finest student, the word recalling that night atop Baelsar’s Wall when he’d had to let him go. He sighed again and shook his head. “But Minfilia? She was gone for good. That was the point at which it really hit me… Things weren’t ever going to go back to how they were. Didn’t help with what happened with Thancred after, either.”

G’raha blinked beneath his hood. That was a new bit of information, one he’d not derived from either conversation with the other Scions or his own secretive study of the Warrior of Light. “Forgive me, I do not know to what in particular you refer.” he said, though he didn’t expect an answer.

“We had a fight.” answered Ifan, quietly.

Again, G’raha blinked. “...I had no notion. You’ve my apologies.” 

Ifan snorted. “No need. I threw the first punch.”

G’raha couldn’t stop himself from taking in a slight breath at that. “I do not doubt you had a valid reason.” he stated, slowly.

A breath left Ifan’s nostrils. “...Aye. I won’t repeat the words in polite company, but he brought up Haurchefant and said that at least I could have made an effort to save Minfilia even if we weren’t involved.”

The healing stopped. Ifan glanced back to see the Exarch sat perfectly still save for a faint twitch of his fingers. A few seconds passed before he cleared his throat and resumed. “...An utterly despicable thing to say. Again, you’ve my deepest sympathies.” said G’raha as he did his best to concentrate on treating Ifan’s scar, and not entertain the fantasy of ripping a certain white-haired scion’s throat out with his teeth.

Ifan raised an eyebrow and hummed before he shook his head. “I struck first, as I said. Y’shtola was already speaking - raised her voice, actually, so you know she was upset - but I couldn’t hold back. We brawled, made a mess. Hoary Boulder had to pull us apart. Just… a mess. But Thancred and I have always been a mess. Ever since Ifrit.” He let out an aggrieved sigh and shook his head again, looking forward once more.

“...It would seem that he has left more than one scar upon you.” observed G’raha with a deeply sympathetic tone.

“You could say that, aye.” nodded Ifan. “It was bad judgment on both our parts, really. Guilt, stress. I’d turned him down for a drink twice, but the third… I just wanted to pretend I was the sort of person that wouldn’t have to fight a primal. Just an ordinary man capable of getting drunk and making a bad decision about who to hop into bed with. Thancred could see I was in pain, he felt bad about me fighting Ifrit by myself - to say nothing of how much stress he could see Minfilia was under. We were both in pain, so even just a bit of relief was a blessing. Even if it was a mess.” explained Ifan slowly, letting out a long breath and arching his spine slightly to relieve the pressure of leaning forward.

While G’raha felt no urge of charity towards one Thancred Waters in the wake of this recounting, he could tell from Ifan’s tone that the magician still lacked a sense of closure over matters with the former rogue. “I would not presume to know his mind, but he did not seem to bear any ill-will towards you when he and I conversed.” offered G’raha.

Ifan nodded. “We did have a talk in Ala Mhigo, and agreed to try and start things fresh. Didn’t really get a chance for obvious reasons - and don’t apologize, please. I’ll forgive you if I don’t have to hear you say the word again.” he added, turning his head and giving the Exarch a teasing, but weary grin.

G’raha couldn’t help but faintly smile in turn. “As you say, my friend.” he nodded. “I should think that might explain his insistence that he get to work immediately. He demanded that I should give him every task within his abilities, large or small, that would make matters easier for you upon your arrival.”

“That so?” hummed Ifan.

G’raha nodded. “Indeed. He seemed most adamant upon earning your goodwill, even in your absence.” confirmed the Exarch as he continued with his healing.

Ifan hummed again, then nodded once more. “I’ll have to thank him when I see him. He really is a good man under all of the nonsense. I did start feeling things for him for a reason.” he mused.

“The same could be said of you, my friend.” answered G’raha instinctively, before he caught himself and cleared his throat. “Your being a good man, rather.” he clarified, hastily.

There was a long silence as Ifan’s expression shifted into something darkly contemplative. “...I almost wasn’t.” he said, staring into space. “After losing Alisaie the way I did, after she begged me not to leave her alone… I spiraled. I still feel awful about how hard Krile and Tataru had to work to keep me propped up, and about how badly I treated them. But… Even when I did apologize, the answers were always the same: I’m the Warrior of Light. I have more expected of me than any human should, therefore I can’t be expected to act with human grace. But that ended up making it worse. They couldn’t stand up for themselves because of who I was. We couldn’t have an equal friendship, because of who I was. And I’d just had to distance things with Hien because of politics, because the Warrior of Light can’t show political partiality. So… It felt like I had no one left. Like I really had just become the Weapon of Light, just a living repertoire of spells and a tank of aether that the Alliance could point at a problem to make it go away. So I did that. And I nearly got myself killed.” A deep and ragged sigh escaped his chest. “But what frightens me the most is what would have happened if I hadn’t lost that battle with Elidibus. Who would have walked off the battlefield… not Ifan Kaleid. Not even the Warrior of Light. Something else.” His voice was barely but a whisper, his mind drifting amidst a very different sea, where an armored man with piercing yellow eyes held a hand upon his chest and bade him turn away. Then he shook his head. “If anything, what you did forced me to take a breath rather than drown. Bitter medicine, but better than the disease… I can’t stay angry at you for that.” he finished, glancing back at the Exarch with a small, appreciative smile.

G’raha had listened to Ifan speak in silence. He wanted to weep. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hold the man he loved tightly in his arms and crush every single shard beneath his heel for what Hydaelyn, what he himself had done to his friend, his inspiration. He thought about that blue-eyed boy he fell in love with over books, how even at that point in his adventure the weariness of wandering had begun to creep into his gaze. Much as one who sees the lake in which they swam in childhood has become a rotten, fetid garbage dump, so too did G’raha Tia feel the wine-dark sea upon whose shore he’d gazed in silent longing had been violated in his absence. Anger, sadness, worry, love, everything boiled and bubbled in his heart with such a force that for a moment he forgot he was only half a man. But G’raha Tia didn’t matter. So the Crystal Exarch answered. “You have my sincere gratitude for choosing to share your mind with me, my friend. Even more so for your forgiveness.” The Miqo’te did every little thing he could to put his feelings in those courteous words, to let the magician know that he was not alone - that there was someone who tried to understand, tried to listen, wanted the best for him. Even if he couldn’t say it, let alone look him in the eyes.

Ifan turned his head to glance at G’raha, one eyebrow raised and a strange expression on his face. Then his lips curved in a faint half-smile, and G’raha’s heart soared higher than the Tower kissing Lakeland’s sky as he saw a little swell of gratitude in Ifan’s wine-dark eyes. “Thanks.” he hummed. Then he nodded. “Well, at the end of the day, I think Thancred has the right idea. New world, new chance to start over. Especially if I’m not going to be in as much pain all the time.” 

G’raha smiled in turn and nodded sagely. “You have my utmost guarantees that I will expend every effort to ensure your time here is as painless as able to make it, Ifan. I promise you that.” He meant every word, so much that he forgot himself by using Ifan’s name. His lips parted in preparation to apologize, and-

“Thanks, again. I really mean it.” answered Ifan with a broader smile, and G’raha couldn’t stop his ears from trying to perk up beneath his hood. “It can’t have been easy for you here, either. If you’d ever like to talk, the offer is mutual.” he added, giving the Exarch a friendly little wink.

The Exarch’s lips parted faintly in surprise at this. Then a faint huff escaped him as he simply fell in love with Ifan all over again, reminded of the way the man refused to make even the simplest conversation entirely about himself. How Ifan was considerate, helpful, clever, handsome, funny, brave… If mischievous, poor-tempered, sharp-tongued, and something of a sore loser. All the qualities which made him the man for whom G’raha would spend as many centuries as needed if it would save his life, Warrior of Light and Eighth Calamity be damned. “...You needn’t burden yourself with my troubles, my friend. Though the offer is deeply appreciated, truly.” he declined. The healing magic faded, and the Exarch spent a few moments visually and manually inspecting Ifan’s scar to ensure his aether had been properly rebalanced; not that G’raha doubted the efficacy of his treatment, given he’d been working on it for at least a hundred years. “How are you feeling?”

“ Much improved. You’ve an amazing hand at healing, my lord.” answered Ifan as he sat up and stretched, marveling at his mobility. 

G’raha’s breath caught in his throat, and his cheeks flushed faintly beneath his hood. “You needn’t call me such a title, I am no lord.” he protested, quietly.

“Well, I don’t have a name to call you, and Exarch sounds a little stiff.” hummed Ifan. Then he gave a nod. “So I guess I’ll just have to call you ‘my friend’ as well.” he finished with a little smile.

There was a brief silence. Then the Exarch simply tilted his head. “You do me a great honor, my friend.” he said with a most courteous of nods, by some miracle managing to conceal the irrepressible desire to simply cry. G’raha nodded as he stood and gave the magician a few fulms of space so he could dress. “I shan’t take up any more of your day, if you should still wish to speak regarding Alphinaud, then I should be happy to receive you in the Ocular once you have broken fast.” he said with a bow of his head. “Please, if you should require anything further…”

Ifan nodded with a smile as he turned to face the Exarch, and G’raha was immensely thankful for his hood given that the Hyur was still shirtless. “I’ll let you know, my friend. Thank you. See you in a little while.” he answered with a thankful nod.

G’raha smiled and bowed again and then departed silently. Only when he’d closed the door of Ifan’s room did he let his features fall into where they wished to be: a mask of pure neutrality. Caught in perfect straining tension between the joy of hearing Ifan call him ‘friend’, and how it suddenly hit home that he’d brought his wine-dark sea to Norvrandt where it would boil to bleaching under Eden’s light. A hundred years and more of preparation… And he still hesitated. Even if he had a plan whereby Ifan’s suffering would be temporary, if extreme… To do that to the man he loved. His wine-dark sea...

He simply hoped the Hell of Ice was not too cold.

[strawberrycheeks-and-glasses]

But do we have a canonically accurate playlist for Tsukki??! Or are we all just syncing up and assuming he’s tapping his pen to lofi study beats as he does his homework or Arctic Monkeys and The Backseat Lovers as he walks home?

Can we compile our notes and comment some of your songs that you have of what he would listen to??? Pls I need more info for science. Yeah.. science TIA

[blackberryhexee]

Annella Playlist 🌌🧹🚬📖

The playlist is based entirely on things she would listen to

[liam-and-co-ideas-universe]

Henchmen in Radena

The Ballet Bunch serving Lady Ballet

Zephyr Zealots serving Queen Zephyr

The Lucky Charms serving Lady Luck

The Storm Rods serving Dr. Stormbringer

The Arctic Squad serving Cyro

The Codebreakers formerly serving Code Breaker aka Tia Hopkins

[linaselandbasil]

Genetic analysis and man of science mumbo jumbo about Lance and Valkyon

Yes, this is still part 2.

Here are the previous installments and the rant about Huang Hua.

Let's talk about those pretty eyes of theirs!

👁👄👁

(For your information, there is already something called amber eyes in humans and it's not like Valkyons. It's more of a warm brown. When I'm referring to amber eyes I don't mean that, but I also kind of do. The same pigment can be used to make both eye colors.)

(Also, when I say dominant, I mean it very loosely because every trait you can think of is codominant and it's never that simple)

(Also also have a look at thissss.)

So, I've said before that I think that amber eyes are dominant over blue eyes because if Tia is a homozygote with recessive phenotype and has a son with a recessive phenotype with a father who has a dominant phenotype, that means the father is heterozygote. So he had a recessive blue eye allele and a dominant amber eye allele. (Furthermore, humans can actually have amber colored eyes.)

My parents both have blue eyes and they had me with green eyes. Green eyes can be passed on, but more often they're the result of genetic mutation, like in my case. Green eyes occur when someone has recessive blue eyes but a kind of melanin gets made in small quantities that is amber colored. The blue of the iris and amber pigment at the back of the eye mix together to make green, and that is why I'm so frikin full of myself! I love green it's my favorite color!

However, Valkyons eyes are not green, so he can't have the recessive blue eye trait. He would need to have grey eyes without the melanin. I don't know what exactly the difference between grey and blue eyes is but I googled it and here is the results:

Moreover, amber and blue are literally opposites of each other, which i assume is a metaphor for the brothers being polar opposites. Ugh, if Lance was crazy this whole time I'm pretty sure his only living family would have noticed. Unless this drastic personality change is due to trauma he's experienced after 'dieing' anyway, I assume that this might mean that it's impossible or just highly unlikely that Lance could have blue eyes. Since they both have the same combination of their fathers only recessive grey eye gene and either one of their mothers blue eye gene. Unless, of course blue eyes are dominant over grey eyes, but they're literally the same exact melanin deficiency so it's like putting two turtles in a cage and waiting for them to fight. It's not gonna happen, they're going to chill.

Anyways, I think Lance would look beautiful with grey eyes, but I probably think that because I simply dislike the color blue.

-Lance with grey eyes-

So, if Tia is carrying two recessive blue eye alleles and Khanir is carrying a recessive grey eye allele and a dominant amber eye allele then their kids would have basically no chance at having amber eyes. Most likely 3 out of 4 kids would have grayish blue eyes and 1 out of 4 would have most likely green, perhaps amber eyes.

If blue IS dominant over grey then Tia could have one grey eye allele too and their kids would have an equal chance of having blue, green, amber or grey eyes.

This option allows us to both keep Lance and Valkyon the same, so I'll choose this. But you did see how hard I had to bend my back to come to this conclusion, didn't you?

Okay, that's about eyes. Let's talk about Khanir.

Many of you may know that I'm not only a man of regular science, but also of *speculatory* science. This post should give a good example.

Anyway, what I would like to talk about today is Khanirs genome. (Im not a eugenecist we're talking about literal dragons aight?) He is obviously adapted to enduring cold environments with little sunlight. He's generally big and he has pale skin. Truly a northern man.

I would like to propose that his amber eyes are simmilar to that of Caribou deer. Caribou deer are adapted to survive long, dark arctic winters and slightly less cold summers. When there's sunlight, their eyes appear amber colored, when it's dark for a long time, their eyes turn blue. That's because their eyes change to allow more light to enter and I'm not going to pretend like I completely understand this, this is some insane science shit and I just love nature and animals aaaaaa. Anyway, that would mean that if you put Valkyon in a dark room for a few days, his eyes would adapt and turn blue as well. Nature is awesome.

The silver hair is something I've been thinking about for a lot longer because I've known about the anamoly that's the colour grey for as long as I've used paint. Grey is not a colour, it's all the colors at the same time.

Let me drop my first tidbit of information: Polar bear fur.

Trust me, polar bears are not white. They just pretend to be so the police won't shoot them. (White pigmentation cannot exist, for the record, white is the absence of color)

So I theorize that Khanir is not of a race that needs to be as pale as possible to allow for vitamin D synthesis, but he's suffering from partial albinism that causes melanin production in his skin to get yeeted out of existence (this is a mutation that creates decreased function, so it's recessive). In the arctic, it might be really cold, but the sun is still radioactive and the snow only makes it worse. He needs to have melanin in his skin to avoid sunburn.

That would mean that if Tia is also carrying this genetic defect, 25% of their offspring would be affected by it. If Tia isn't carrying it, then none of their offspring would be affected.

Grey? Grey.

Okay I don't know how to lead into this paragraph, but let's talk about the genetics of this.

Light hair is a recessive trait because it causes decreased function. Grey hair is also a decreased function because the melanin production is blocked. If the grey hair gene isn't influencing the melanin itself by decreasing it, but increasing something else that decreases melanin in the hair, then technically it could be a dominant allele and that gives their offspring a 50-100% chance of having silver hair! *high five*

This way if Tia gives them genes that increase melanin production, that would only influence their skin and eyes, since the melanin in their hair is blocked by some other thing.

(Fuck I'm playing into beemoovs hands at this point. GIVE ME WELL DESIGNED BLACK CHARACTERS OR I SWEAR I'LL DISPROVE ALL MY STATEMENTS AND YOU'LL BE BACK IN NECK DEEP SHIT!!)

So, now that we've conducted so much speculatory research, let's summarize:

Khanir is suffering from partial albinism and his offspring might be carriers

Fire dragons are supposed to be tan

A dragon without melanin is grey because of refraction.

Green eye supremacy

Silver hair COULD be a dominant trait

Valkyons eyes could turn blue but Lance's eyes will never be amber.

The brothers should probably be darker skinned, if my first point is true and in general because they're so whitewashed I didn't even know they weren't supposed to be white.

Also look at these pictures of polar bears I found:

I know I'm weird for liking gore but like.... The drama! It's so dramatic! How am I supposed to be gay and chill out at the same time?

@aide-falls @lumen-anima 😘

[maybebabyplease]

🎶✨when you get this you have to list 5 songs you actually listen to, then tag 10 of your followers (negotiable, positivity is cool) 🎶✨

thanks to my favorite tube of toothpaste @marvis for the tag (just kidding it’s the one and only @colgatebluemintygel)

1. when i’m the one driving

2. when i’ve had a few and the dance floor is lookin good

3. when i’m homesick

4. when i’m feeling nostalgic

5. when i let my partner pick the music

i feel like i’ve seen everybody get tagged in this? so consider this your tag if i’m wrong and you haven’t been yet!

[deadonarrival]

HE'S NEARING THE BRINK BUT HE THINKS FIRST,

THE PARALLEL-

I THINK YOU SHOULD KNOW YOU'RE HIS

FAVOURITE WORST NIGHTMARE

[neuronal]

tagged by @zillua and @swimmignfool (kissing u both <3) to post my favorite albums of 2022

in no particular order:

the happy star - lexie liu

trip - tia ray

the car - arctic monkeys

the loneliest time - carly rae jepsen

sos - sza

caprisongs - fka twigs

renaissance - beyoncé

farm to table - bartees strange

hold the girl - rina sawayama

not tagging anyone but if one of u wants to do it, just mention me!!

[ifelltomyknees]

rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then list 10 songs you really like, each by a different artist. then tag 10 people to do the same thing

I was tagged by @ownheartbeating , thank you my darling!

On Repeat

1. Come in w the Rain - Taylors version

2. Ribs by lorde

3. Sad beautiful tragic - Taylor’s version

4. Work Song - Hozier

5. Would’ve could’ve should’ve - TS

6. Snap Out of It - Arctic Monkeys

7. Cruel World - Lana del Rey

8. You signed up for this maisie peters

9. My tears Ricochet

10. Northern Attitude - Noah Kahan

Songs I really like:

1. All my love - Noah Kahan

2. Tia Tamera by Doja ft Rico nasty

3. For my lover - Tracy Chapman

4. Movie goers - Julia Jacklin

5. Slow mover Angie McMahon

6. The waiting - angel Olsen

7. Glitch - Taylor Swift

8. Girls the 1975

9. Tomorrow never came - Lana del Rey ft. Shawn Lennon

10. The bomb - Florence and the machine

@lovestory @wegotbillstopay @wealmostbrokeup @highinfidelity @gavemeroses @gonnashakeit @falsegod @meaningtotellyou @brandnewdress @alltoowel + anyone else who feels the urge! :)

[knight-of-the-thorn]

It's a shame neither Arc nor Tia really has much to do with Jormag because Arctia sounds like Arctic and I could make a cool ship name out of that but nooooooooo neither of them does any ice bullshit

[marxistfringe]

Mais um capítulo desse projeto que acabou ficando bem maior do que eu esperava/planejava: minha playlist de despedida!

Agora, entramos no ano de 2022, que, pra ser sincero, não foi bom. Rotina puxada, muitas viagens, trabalhando até o cu fazer bico... Vamos ver a música que acompanhou o lento declínio da minha saúde psicológica!

1. Wiped Out! - The Neighbourhood

Wiped Out! é uma música que eu ouvi bastante no comecinho do ano, ainda em Lavínia. Lembro, especificamente, de ouvir ela no dia do ano novo - dia 1º - enquanto eu estava indo com a Maria Eduarda na casa da tia dela, onde a gente passou a virada.

Posso estar enganado, mas também lembro de ter ouvido muito Hey!, dos Pixies, nessa época. Só não coloquei essa outra porque, atualmente, eu acho essa música horrível.

2. Way It Goes - Hippo Campus 3. Let It Happen - Tame Impala

Essas duas músicas são, realmente, da época em que eu saí de Lavínia e voltei. São duas músicas que, de fato, evocam o que eu senti nessa época: Way It Goes traz uma melancolia em frente de estar longe da minha família e da minha namorada; Let It Happen tem um senso de desafio e aventura.

Lembro de ter ouvido muito as duas enquanto eu ia e voltava do escritório. E se prepare: ouvir as músicas na ida e na volta do escritório vai ser uma tônica muito comum.

Outra tônica que vai ser muito comum é músicas de artistas diferentes, como o Hippo Campus. Tentei descobrir novos artistas nessa época, o que me levou a ouvir MUITA música ruim mas me levou a redescobrir a Lana e a Girl In Red - que vão ser uma terceira tônica muito comum. Várias tônicas muito comuns.

4. Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now - The Smiths

Hah. Bem caricatural, né? Ouvi essa música revoltado por ter que trabalhar - e, sobretudo, por ter que trabalhar na casa do cacete -, voltando pra Ribeirão depois do Carnaval.

5. 4EVER - Clairo

Música do fim de fevereiro. Essa, em específico, eu ouvi no período das primeiras aulas do CPM e do CPFDRP em 2022. Me deixou bem nostálgico com o meu período de faculdade - até porque é, mesmo, uma música bem nostálgica. E bastante boa.

6. Peach Pit - Peach Pit 7. R.I.P 2 My Youth - The Neighbourhood 8. W.D.Y.W.F.M? - The Neighbourhood

Essas três músicas aqui são do começo de março, e talvez elas foram as primeiras que eu ouvi estando em Ribeirão e aceitando o meu destino de ter que estar em Ribeirão.

Lembro de ter ouvido a sexta e a oitava enquanto eu montava material praquele cursinho golpe (no meu aniversário, of all things). A sétima, eu ouvi enquanto estava indo trocar uma camisa que eu ganhei no meu aniversário, lá na Polo Wear do Novo Shopping.

Não diria que eu estava feliz; longe disso. Mas talvez mais conformado, e um pouco mais focado no presente.

9. Do Me a Favour - Arctic Monkeys 10. Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey

Essas duas aqui foram fruto de eu fuçando em várias playlists tentando descobrir músicas novas. No fim das contas, não achei artistas alternativos - todos eram horríveis - mas duas músicas boas de artistas mainstream.

Do Me a Favour eu lembro de ter ouvido em viagens pra cá, e lembro de ter motivado que eu ouvisse Favourite Worst Nightmare em repeat; Ultraviolence, por outro lado, desencadeou um surto de Lana que ainda não passou até hoje.

11. Norman Fucking Rockwell - Lana Del Rey

Lembra que eu falei de um surto de Lana? Bom, NFR talvez seja a maior representante. Ouvi umas cinquenta vezes no repeat, pelo menos, indo do serviço pra casa e de casa pro serviço. E olha que ela nem é uma das melhores do álbum NFR!.

12. Tek It - Cafuné 13. Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey

Em julho, continuei no surto de Lana - e acabei achando algumas músicas correlatas.

Essas duas, particularmente, eu associo muito com a Maravilhas do Lar. Embora seja uma associação boba, ir na Maravilhas do Lar foi um jeito que eu achei pra curtir um pouco os meus sábados de manhã. Até então, eu não curtia muita coisa, não. Eu ficava em casa jogando e era isso.

Descobri que sair - ar livre, respirar, ver gente - faz bem pra saúde mental. Que coisa, né?

14. Serotonin - Girl in Red 15. Cherry - Lana Del Rey 16. Girlie - Alexandra Savior 17. How - Clairo

Todas essas músicas têm um contexto parecido. Descobri no serviço - caçando playlists aleatórias enquanto eu trabalhava - e levei pra vida.

Serotonin me despertou um surto de Girl in Red (vem aí) que dura até hoje. Cherry fez parte do surto de Lana, e eu lembro de ter ouvido essa música umas boas cinquenta vezes seguidas viajando de Ribeirão pra Lavínia. Girlie fez eu me aprofundar um pouco mais na Alexandra Savior (por favor, mulher, lance músicas novas); eu lembro de ter ouvido muito ela e How enquanto eu voltava pra casa.

Boas músicas pra compensar um período meio ruim. Trabalhei bastante. Ganhei bônus e fui promovido, vá lá, mas ainda foi meio difícil.

18. . - Girl in Red

Lembra que eu falei que Serotonin me despertou um surto de Girl in Red? Então. Acabei afundando em If I Could Make it Go Quiet, e adivinha só: descobri a segunda melhor música já feita em toda a história. Ouvi noventa vezes seguidas. O Last.fm não me deixa mentir.

Pena que eu comecei a ouvir muito tarde no ano - outubro? -, então não apareceu no meu wrapped - mas, em compensação, foi a minha música mais ouvida de 2023.

19. October Passed Me By - Girl in Red

Não vejo necessidade de me aprofundar muito. Música nova, sentimental pra caralho, então eu ouvi em repeat - em MUITO repeat.

20. I'll Die Anyway - Girl in Red

Pra fechar bem o ano, descobri a melhor música já feita em toda a história.

Curiosamente, é uma música que também refletia muito como eu me sentia: "I reach for me, but I'm not there". 2022 foi um ano que, sobretudo, me despersonalizou muito. Tudo virou trabalho e tentar descansar pra me recuperar do trabalho.

Tudo o que me definia foi pro caralho, e só sobrou trabalho. Acabaram as reviews, acabaram o sarcasmo, acabaram os jantares a luz de velas, acabaram os gostos peculiares.

Triste - mas a volta pra Lavínia (que é o motivador dessa playlist desde o começo) me dá uma oportunidade nova de voltar a ser eu.

Por isso mesmo que eu falo: Marie, mulher, lance novas músicas urgentemente. Eu vou entrar em uma nova era e preciso de uma trilha sonora nova.