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sapphicseasapphire · 2 months

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Miscellaneous Cryptid au lore bits that are too short/too specific to make it into individual posts!

If you want more information about any of these, feel free to ask! I’m always willing to ramble about my Little Guys haha!

(In no particular order)

• Sky’s wings are too big to fit through doors. He will 100% for sure run into people in a crowded street. Because of this, he stays behind when the others go to villages. This gets incredibly lonely for our friendly little bird boy so eventually it’s decided that someone has to stay with him. This leads to one on one bonding between Sky and everyone in the Chain! (Except Time)

• Four can control water, earth, fire, and air, but not particularly well. Jack of all trades is a master of none. That being said, each individual color is a master of their element, so when separated, they are a FORCE to be reconned with. Their diminished power as a whole is a huge source of frustration for them, but I can’t let them be too powerful.

• After the their adventure is over, Time lives out the rest of what would have been his mortal life with Malon, then he takes care of his children, and his children’s children. But eventually he’s just… lived too long. His humanity falls away and he becomes more and more of a God and stops interacting with mortals almost entirely. Except when the other Links are born in their own eras, Time looks after them Father Time style and if they fall, he rewinds to before they were injured (their last “save point”) and pushes them to a better path. (Game over. Continue?)

• Even if someone is born with the blood of a God, their powers need to be awakened. This usually happens in a moment of desperation. For example, during Time’s adventures, he meddled with the flow of time so much that it became his dominion. Twilight’s powers awakened when he was like two years old. His parents had been killed by monsters- monsters that were now looking for him. And in his desperation, he looked to a squirrel in the tree above and he copied it. The monsters lost track of him, ignoring the animals of the forest. Time was gifted, well… time… because against a falling moon, it was his last hope. Twilight was gifted shape shifting because he had no other chance of survival.

^ Hylia doesn’t count because she was one of the original Goddesses. Many of the Zeldas, while they do possess the blood of the Goddess, have not had their awakening. Yet.

• Warriors will sometimes blurt out random sets of data without being prompted. He’ll ask to run calculations on things that no one has ever asked him to. And while the others might find this confusing, it’s his way of expressing his interests. Of learning more about the things that he likes, of telling people about the things that he likes. This happens rarely, but when it does, Sky drops EVERYTHING to talk with him, so excited to see him opening up.

• The Legend of the Godkiller is a very idealized and not very accurate retelling of Sky’s final battle against Demise. It paints him as a very confident, willing knight of the Goddess. Full of righteous anger and absolutely thrumming with power. In the story that Time knows, Sky wasn’t even scared. He knew he was capable of killing Demise, and he wasn’t even surprised when he was cursed. This is… far from the truth.

• Yeah, Time knows about Sky’s curse. But what’s he gonna do? Confront him about it? Tell the others? And risk drawing the wrath of the Godkiller? Absolutely not.

• Wild is more sentient than he lets on. He understands more than the others might think. He’s a little chaos gremlin who gets so easily distracted and acts more like a wild animal than a person, but he’s very smart. He couldn’t do long division but he can tell that… something’s not right with Sky and the Master Sword. The others haven’t caught on yet.

• Wild KNOWS THINGS. That he SHOULDN’T.

• Hyrule is so incredibly timid by nature. He’s used to being hunted: first as a fairy, sought for his healing magic, and then because of his blood curse, sought by monsters to bring about the revival of Ganon. Because of this, he’s incredibly shy. Until one of his companions gets hurt!! Then he’s ALL BUSINESS and he speaks with the authority that one might expect from a fairy so powerful.

• Speaking of that! At first, no one knew he was a fairy! He was afraid that they’d bottle him (they had other bottled fairies in their pouches when he’d first met the others, so it was justified). He kept up his glamour until he physically couldn’t anymore. The others knew he was a magic user- he tended to fight less with a sword and more with his spells and had an affinity for healing, but they didn’t know JUST how powerful he was until his glamour fell apart.

• Hyrule’s glamour can change the way that people see things, but it cannot change the physical shape of something. (Except himself, because his body is mostly magic anyway). For example, he could hide Four’s horns, but if you were to touch the top of Four’s head, you’d still feel them! He can make Wild look like a Hylian, but that doesn’t make their antennae go away. This is why Sky can’t go into towns: his wings may be invisible, but they’re still there, they can still feel pain and can still bump into people and walls. So… he can’t fit, unfortunately.

• The best swimmer (aside from Legend, Ravio, and Wind) is Sky. Which is weird, right? One might think that those massive wings would slow him down. But he has the Water Dragon’s Scale! Everyone’s so surprised when he starts racing people and WINNING. When he jumps out of the water in a spiral spin. Legend can call him a cheater all he wants, but he’ll be a hypocrite for it. He can’t say anything about using magic items to bolster abilities.

• Legend and Wind go from enemies to best friends in the course of like a month. They bond over a war and the ocean, and their connection is strengthened by the conflict that they’re both familiar with. Honestly a big reason that Legend warms up to Wind is that Ravio is fond of him. Also it’s actually impossible to hate Wind. Also he went to Outset that one time and was ablel to better understand Wind’s perspective.

• Wind dies a little bit inside every time Aryll or his grandma call themselves a Sea Monster. But he doesn’t have the heart to correct them.

• Ravio was never really afraid of Wind himself. More so… afraid of the monster that he had the potential to be (Ku). When Wind was never corrupted, Ravio had no reason to hate him! So they became friends during the War of Eras.

• Ravio joins the Chain very late. But we love him anyway.

• Twilight has little nicknames for everyone. If he calls them by their actual name/their title, they’re in trouble.

• Four only splits around Sky, Warriors, Hyrule and Twilight at first. Actually, the first person they split in front of was Sky but that was an accident. Once they determine that it’s safe, they start doing it around the others… slowly but surely…

• Post God Reveal, Legend and Four join Sky in the “distrust Time” corner

• Time wields Wars’ sword because Wars has deemed him the most powerful. Because of this, Warriors will go with Time when their adventure comes to an end. (This way, neither of them have to face eternity alone).

• I know I made a whole big long post about what happens to Mer if they don’t soak, but I neglected to say that all that will happen to Aquili too, just to a lesser extent. Wind needs to soak as well, just not as often as Legend and Ravio do.

• Mer cannot assume their natural form if they have anything on their legs/feet where their tail would go. Ravio’s… not wearing anything under his robes. And Legend… isn’t wearing anything under his skirt. Being barefoot definitely isn’t ideal but it’s better than the alternative: being unable to soak and drying out. Now, they could simply remove their shoes/pants, but they’re traveling and often in battle and they don’t always have the time to shed their clothes. If they need to jump into the water? They jump into the water.

• During Legend’s adventures, him being Mer was a secret. (The Zora were already antagonistic- imagine what they’d do if they knew he was a war mongering Mer!) This is why he needed flippers or a magic item to be able to swim- something on his feet or something magically imbued to keep him from transforming.

• For Sky, Link and Aepon are generally completely fused, but there are certain events that can force an imbalance between their influence over him. For example, if he’s hurt and takes a heart potion for healing, the body is healed, his Link half is healed, but is Aepon half is still weakened. The others might notice that he acts differently after taking a potion and he just seems very… unwell. Distressed, panicked. But also, he has both Aepon dreams and Link dreams. And depending on their frequency and severity, they can affect how he acts when he wakes, at least until both halves are sufficiently awake.

• When Sky’s Aepon half is more dominant, he is actually legitimately a bird. He doesn’t speak, he just chirps and squawks and trills like a bird. He looses all sense of personal space. And he’ll LOOSE IT if his feathers are touched.

• Sky can’t see well at night but he has a much greater endurance for looking at bright things.

• Hyrule hangs out around Sky as much as he can because Sky can’t take heart potions and also his bones are literally hollow and can break a lot easier than the others’

• Hyrule is a GIFT to this world and I don’t draw him enough.

I have a LOT MORE to say about these guys but this is just off the top of my head right now. Also I don’t want to spoil story elements! But let me know if you have any questions or want more context! I have short stories written about like half of these.

#the legend of zelda #chain as cryptids au #cryptid lore #cryptid ravio #cryptid twilight #cryptid wind #cryptid warriors #cryptid sky #cryptid time #cryptid wild #cryptid four #cryptid legend #links meet au

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dontbelasagnax · 2 months

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Ok fine! You’ve convinced me! I’ll learn how to draw specifically so I can draw codywan kissing, you’ve spread your gospel successfully

…

How do you draw tho fr cuz I can doodle like, funky lookin birds but people is fully out of my depth send help

AAAA HELL YEAHHHH!!!!! LET'S GOOOO!!!!!

You've opened a can of worms asking me for art advice so *cracks knuckles* buckle up.

I sort of (only a little bit) use the Loomis method for easy head drawing. Here is a playlist of YouTube videos by Proko. Highly, highly recommend that channel for your art tutorial needs!

I start with a circle. For side profiles, I draw a line down the side of the circle to determine where the features will sit upon. I draw a triangular shape to mark where the orbital socket is. Around the middle point of the circle is where the jawline ends and the ear begins so draw a line there. There are proportion rules which are good guidelines when starting out in art but since I've been doing this my entire life, I have a feel for things and just wing it. That's to say, I put in a line implying the jaw based on vibes.

Next, I draw the eyebrows and brow ridge. Then the nose. I find I majorly base my proportions on this area so if anything is off, it throws the rest of the face off.

Then I draw the lips and chin... or in Obi-Wan's case, his beard. I will mark in his sideburns and hairline as well. Now, about ears: generally the top of the ear begins right around the top of the eyebrow and stops at the base of the nose. At this point I like to draw his eye, define the cheekbone, and refine the eyebrow. I'll finish scribbling in hair and that's it!

(Cody is much the same but I forgot to take useful progress pics 😂)

Extended Art Advice 👇

Tip #1: Draw lightly. Do not ever grip your pencil tight. This only leads to pain. You will notice I didn't erase at all. This is partly because I know what marks to make because I've done it a million times before and also because my lines are soft enough I can make lots of them and choose to deepen the ones that work.

Tip #2: Practice, practice, practice. Artistic skill is just loads and loads of accumulated knowledge and muscle memory from practice. This sounds boring but, in reality, you should make it fun.

Tip #3: Draw from observation/USE REFERENCE! The only reason I can get away without using reference when I'm feeling lazy is because I've drawn the same things over and over enough times it stuck. Aka I did lots of practice.

Now, to combine all these tips together, let's talk about how to use reference and how to make practice fun.

Reference is a huge aid when drawing at any point in your art journey. But I've found that in order to learn from what you're looking at, you need to think critically.

You obviously have something you want to draw. Reference helps you with that. You'll start out trying to draw what you see. Eventually you will run into an obstacle where you've messed up and things aren't looking good. This is to be expected. Every time this happens, think about what isn't working and find solutions with your reference. Analyze your subject to find your answers. Draw it again. Do not be afraid of failure. Each time you fail, you must look for a solution and this will lead you closer to your goal. This is how you grow as an artist.

I know, it sounds dreadfully boring and like a shit ton of work. It is a lot of work but you can make it fun! You love Obi-Wan and Cody so make Pinterest boards of Ewan McGregor and Temuera Morrison. Whatever you want to practice (may that be eyes, mouths, hands, hair, the face as a whole, etc) draw them. Ever hear tracing is bad? Fuck that. It's a perfectly valid tool to help you learn. If you're drawing digitally, pull up your reference in the art program of your choice, lower the opacity a little, make a new layer and trace what you see. I honestly find tracing to be very hard so when I've done this, I prefer to try to find shapes that will aid me when I'm actually drawing. If you're drawing traditionally, you can print out the photo and trace over it with a tracing paper or use a lightbox. You can also up the brightness on your computer screen and tape a piece of paper and trace that way.

Photos aren't the only references you can use! You can always look to your favorite artists' work and try to figure out how they do it. Often artists will break things down into more easily digestible shapes that will help you better understand how things work. Remember, if you ever copy or trace someone's art, it is for learning purposes only and you shouldn't post it. Feel free to take elements of people's art that you like and put your own spin on it though. For instance: I really love how this one artist draws men's tits so I studied a bunch of their art and now I'm much better at drawing them.

Oh and did you think you only get practice in while studying? Wrong! There's no reason you should shy away from trying to make the art you really want just because your skills aren't the most refined. Spoiler alert: you will grow the most when you push yourself out of your comfort zone. Draw codywan kissing. Draw it really enthusiastically and through profuse swearing and gritted teeth... but never a clenched hand. Don't hold back from the fun stuff just because it's hard. Aim high, land low, and shoot even higher next time.

In the beginning it will be especially frustrating. You'll feel like everything you make is a failure and nothing works out. You'll feel like you're not making any progress. Trust me, you are making progress and I believe in you.

If something really isn't working out and you find yourself growing distressed, take a break. It might last an hour or a week. Just take the break. Don't push it. Come back with fresh eyes and less stress. We all have days where nothing comes out right. Sometimes I can't even draw anything resembling a human face. It's okay. Whisper-yell expletives at your artwork and take the break. It will be okay.

With all that said, happy drawing and even happier codywan kissing!! 🧡💋🩵

#hope this helps!!!#(yes i did put my teaching hat on and break out my sketchbook to draw examples the moment i saw this in my inbox 😂)#ask box #lasagna rambles #my art #codywan

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artistdove · 2 months

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Hermitcraft Grian designs for each season.

Now a mini rant. Main bird wings are based on his overall theme for the season, aka his main base. However, the wings can change bird species to fit the skin or arc that happens in the season. Since they do represent the elytra, the wings can be absent. Gotta have break from drawing individual feathers eventually. S9 is special as it's the only time G got more bird like outside of wings. Bird choice reasons somewhat explained below

Season 6 is a Gannet due to it being a sea bird and a good fit for one who never used elytra before until Hermitcraft. Those birds need a wind stream to fully lift off. Season 7 is obviously a Parrot, which is a staple in the fandom. Aside from Pesky Bird arc and bits, I think it further fits as a way of showing how out going G got and sounded by the next season. I mean he was quite the hermit in S6 but S7 sounded like he was more settled idk. Spore Mother wings are a Canadian Jay cuz apparently those birds eat mushrooms, unless Google is wrong lol. Season 8 had to be a Snowy Owl cuz man went full Harry Potter. Season 9 was a bit tricky as a mountain dwelling bird fits, but I felt a more mystical seeming bird fit more. S9 did much more fantasy. I eventually learned about the Fairy Wren and Rock Wren that I ended up mixing together. I like to think the Skulk slowly darken his wings and added color. Further more with the bird form, I did add thin tail feathers with a Skulk senser as the tips. This avian form felt more at home for the Empires SMP as I prefer to keep the Hermits close to their irl look or normal skin look. So unless the Hermit already has animal like features in their base skin, most are not gonna be full anthro or partial anthro (may change this headcanon in the future tho lol)

#my art #sketch #digital art #hermitcraft #grian fanart #hermitcraft grian #grian #hc s6 #hc s7 #hc s8 #hc s9 #idk when i'll get to season 10 #it is quite early for me to have a good idea for his wings #i do have design concepts in mind though

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kirbybecomesastarwarrior · 1 month

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Loser Baby~ (Marxolor)

When I first heard this I thought to myself... "this is their song."

In the KBASW AU, they're very similar in nature, and they're brought together through circumstances... both are losers. And that is what makes their relationship so beautiful ~

And yes I changed some of the lyrics to fit Marx better~

Keep reading for extra lore/ spoiler-ish content

I've decided to hit two birds with one stone...knock out a few questions I had...

Yeah, the Marxolor/Magolor asks have been stewing in there... Sorry for taking so long but I FINALLY learned how to draw Magolor.

He plays a big role in the story... he is pretty much very close to his game counterpart, but his reasons and motivations for the Master Crown are very different.

The Master Crown was created and owned by his great-grandmother... Minerva Mim also known as... MAD MADAM MIM. (And for those who aren't familiar with Disney's The Sword in the Stone.) Who was the ruler of Halcandra during her time...

Magolor's full name is Magolor Mim

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But she's also a mix with Harry Potter's Minerva McGonagall.

(And yes) she's connected with Lady Celestine (who is this KBASW Merlin), and they were best friends. She's the reason why the Ancients & Halcandrans did business. Halcandran techolong & the Ancients magic. A deal Sir Icarus tried to secure but could not negotiate at all...

However, Celestine managed to get it with ease... (*cough* bribed her way*. ) Over time they did become genuine friends... I'll expand on her later... In short, she was basically the only one whom Celestine told of her alter-ego, Merlyn (Sir Arthur figured it out).

She was snarky, eccentric, and a bit vain at times, but at her core was a good person.

Celestine brought out the best in her and Minerva brought out the adventurous side of her and encouraged her to be bolder. (BTW she was the number one Celarthur shipper).

However, after Celestine's "execution" (secretly they crystalized her): Minvera refused to do business with the GSA & the Ancients due to her friend's unfair trial... despite the threats they made to remove her from power if she continued to remain loyal to Celestine... but no matter how much they threatened her she still couldn't do it...

As a result, the Ancients removed her from her seat as ruler... and the GSA tried to arrest her for siding with a "traitor." However, she didn't go down without fighting. "If I can not have my crown... NO ONE CAN!" Cursing the crown that there will be no more another ruler of Halcandra... and using it to erupt the volcano that resided on the planet... creating its now, current state... becoming MAD MADAM MIM. (But in truth, she was just grieving... loss of her best friend. )

After that, the Ancients ordered to get rid of any descendant of Madam Mim's lineage. And thus the GSA hunted down and exterminated every living relative of Mim's household. However one survived the carnage.

Magolor is the lone survivor of his entire family's... orphaned and on the street... struggling to survive. He did everything to keep himself afloat... even if he had to BEG, STEAL, OR BORROW. HE'D DO IT!(There are a few more things... Magolor had a connection to the Sqeak Squads and Daroach, but that's a story for another day.)

Eventually, he finds out about his heritage and the fact that his whole household was wiped out due to... HER LOYALTY TO ONE PERSON. BAH, DANG IT GRAN WHAT WERE YOU THINKING I COULDA BEEN A KING AND YOU THREW IT AWAY FOR FRIENDSHIP?! From that, you can probably see why Magolor isn't so keen on the value of it since the very thing pretty much wiped out his entire family... And thus began Magolor's search for the crown...

Magolor's betrayal, & redemption does happen like in the game:... does his little shop, makes his amusement park. However, he does a few extra things that connect to the Kirby anime... Magolor manages to revive Chill and rebuild Kirby's robot dog for him (episode 12). (After that, the gang was won over by Magolor...)

Kirby's robo-pet is actually a big thing in the KBASW, he's basically the equivalent of Kirby's iPad/computer.

With this Magolor is fully redeemed, but his arc's not quite done just yet... he still can't help but feel something is missing in his life. Yes, he's learned the value of friendship and junk... he has friends now but... How could he still feel alone when he was people around him.. a feel that he could only describe as underlining emptiness.

Enter Marx. And as I said in the Marx post... Marx saves Kirby ( I won't say from whom yet but) he gets injured the gang wants to help him but... He didn't want a pity party and tried to get away.

Marx: I DON'T NEED YOUR HEL-! *FACE PLANTS ow...

Everyone: You need our help~

Marx wasn't comfortable staying in Dreamland to recover (he knows people *cough* Bun wouldn't take too kindly of him returning), so to compromise, they cashed in a favor from Magolor... Resulting in Marx being delivered by the gang... via kitten in a basket.

Kirby: Hi Mags, this is Marx... Do you think you can watch him for a bit he's we just need you to watch him so he can recover.

Magolor: Okay, sure... but why is he in a basket?

Marx: HISS *shuts the cover*

Meta Knight: He wanted something with a lid on it.

Mags: Oh~kay *picks up basket* I guess you guys can pick him up when he gets better?

Magolor hoped whatever feral creature they had him watching wouldn't be that much trouble or, at the very least, not bite... but Magolor was pleasantly surprised that Marx seemed... to match him quite perfectly...

Shared his love of ancient relics & magic, sarcastic humor, and a wick wittiness similar to his own. And not just interest but personality-wise as well. Marx had an unapologetic straightforwardness that he appreciated, along with a few oddities that he found strangely endearing...This unexpected guest seemed to fit seamlessly into his life... it actually felt nice to have a companion like this.

Marx at first didn't know what to expect when he was dropped off at Halcandranss doorstep. He assumed that he was being sent to some sort of happy hospital facility, where they were gonna baby him and be monitored 24-7. NO FREEDOM AT ALL, HE'S JUST GONNA BE A CAGED ANIMAL!

But no Mags allowed him to do as he pleased... once he realized that he tried to pretty much annoy Magolor into kicking him out. Using his natural crass, sass, and of course, pranks to do it, however, Magolor didn't fall for any of them. Remaking at each of them describing them as "cute"...

Magolor: Nice try, but... You're not gonna to trick this trickster~

Marx: WHAT!?

Marx assumed Kirby that Magolor was another goody-two-shoes, but... did they bring him to some anti-prank master's house. He should've been angry, but he couldn't help but be impressed. It didn't take him long to stop his fruitless effort... there was nothing else to do but wait till he had a chance to escape.

Marx: "Nothing else, Just sitting and watching this guy... uh what is that you're working on... " leaving being instantly enamored and captivated with Magolor's work. Marx's interest and fascination with Ancient Technology is what drove him to use the Galactic Nova in the first place... which sparked Marx's interest and forgetting his original plans to escape.

Which led him to discover all the similarities they had... However, there was this secret unknown wall the other had up. Wanting to keep there both their "unsavory past beginnings with Kirby."

Magolor didn't want to scare Marx away especially when he was finally starting to get comfortable with him. And Marx not wanting to screw up another friendship he was starting to make, by revealing what he was. Both did not want to ruin the only good thing they had in a while.

When finally Marx recovered, Mags was just about to call Kirby and the gang, and immediately Marx pretended to still be sick. Visibly nervous when the check-in call comes in. This doesn't go unnoticed by Magolor,... so when it comes time to call up Kirby for the update, he buys him more time.

Magolor: I gotcha another week...

Marx: Wait, what...

Magolor: Listen I don't think I can get you another when the time comes so... so you think you can tell me what's going on... Kirby's a nice guy I'm sure he'll-

Marx: But I'm not-

This leads Marx to tell Mags everything about the whole "NOVA FIASCO," and Magolor is just speechless as he reveals each detail. Marx loner he spoke couldn't help but feel like he sunk in even deeper believing he blew it again...

Waiting with bated breath for Magolor to answer expecting him to respond in disgust... only with him to respond with. "Yo, same!"

Thus leading Magolor to reveal his past with the Kirby & the Master Crown, along with his road to redemption. This gives Marx a little hope, but not as much confidence that he could do what Magolor did... But Mags assures him that he's still a work in progress himself and that if he wants to be better he should give himself the chance to do better... after all the first step is always the hardest.

Needless to say, everything works out but even after the whole thing, Marx is still hanging out with Magolor... Hmmm... I wonder why! :3

Thanks again to everyone for sticking around and being patient with the asks... I know I'm taking a while to answer (and the things I promised to be done aren't... sorry, my work schedule is hectic.)

I've kinda hit a bit of a roadblock with the fanfic's art style and recently have been wanting to change it up... but anyhow I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually. (So for now I'm trying to knock out a few more asks).

Hope you enjoy the content and have a great day~

#kirby #kbasw #magolor #marx kirby #marxolor #kirby series #kirby anime #anon ask #hazbin hotel #kbasw answers #as you can see i take a long time #thank you for waiting

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afewproblems · 1 year

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Steve always falls first, falls fastest.

It happened three years ago with Nancy, it happened with Robin back before the bathroom confession cemented their platonic soulmate status. It happened with Lauren MacNeal in Steve's freshman year, and Cindy Carlile back when he was eight years old.

He knows himself and knows the beginning stages. It's always quick and never painless, and seems to hurt more with every passing year. A dull ache in his chest that throbs and whispers darkly, 'remember Harrington, you'll always be bullshit'.

And when he finds himself falling for one Eddie Munson, he knows exactly when it starts.

Movie nights became a regular thing shortly after Eddie was discharged from the hospital. Robin, Steve, and Eddie all pile into the Harrington living room or the Munson trailer every other week, it's too hard to be apart.

Really, it becomes a way to keep a late night conversation going with Eddie while the credits roll, Robin dozes on the beanbag in the corner and Steve can't help but stare.

Eddie is so animated when he talks about something he loves, his brown eyes light up with his thousand watt smile and the dimples come out in full force, Steve almost has to squint with the amount of natural sunshine this man emanates when he talks about his passions.

He says as much to Robin during their next shift and she can't help but roll her eyes and gag, "Steven Remington Harrington-"

"Not my name," Steve cuts in with a laugh as he stuffs their second copy of the Shining into the machine to rewind.

"Don't interrupt dingus," Robin continues imperiously, "I get it, you have heart-eyes for the guy, but you gotta stop gushing about him to me and tell him".

Steve rolls his eyes and ignores the way his stomach swoops at the thought of telling Eddie how he feels, and the realization that it's happening again.

"I-I mean, it's not like I'm in love with the guy Robin, he stutters out eventually, "it'll go away, or he'll find someone else to talk to, they always do eventually".

He focuses on picking up the stack of freshly rewound tapes and walking them into the shelves, avoiding Robin's silent sad look that bores into the back of his head as he hides in the stacks.

Weeks turn into months and Steve absorbs nearly everything he can about Eddie.

He wears a size 10 shoe, but the 'shit-kicking' steel toes always look a smidge bigger - the inch or two it adds to Eddies height doesn't hurt either as Steve finds he has to tilt his head up to meet Eddie's gaze when he's decked out in his metal gear for a show...

He got his first guitar when he went to live with Wayne, it was a simple acoustic that he learned his chords on and practiced CCR on to his uncles delight.

He hates orange juice and loves coffee.

He loves cats and is scared to death of birds.

Every detail draws Steve in, but that small voice in the back of his mind reminds him again and again, 'they always leave Steve, don't get too comfortable'.

But how could he not?

Eddie is comfortable, he's nice and funny, and seems to enjoy hanging out with Steve almost as much as Steve enjoys being with Eddie. There is a softness to him when they're alone that makes Steve feel safe.

So what if he doesn't feel the same, Steve isn't about to give this up.

Not yet.

Steve takes to dropping by the Corroded Coffin band practice every weekend, a six pack in one hand and a small wary smile on his face - he's still not entirely accepted by Gareth and Jeff but the beer helps and Eddie vouches for him every time.

The atmosphere is still somewhat stilted, but it isnt as icy as it had been. Now Gareth even sits with him after practice while Eddie and Jeff go over their solos just outside the door as they share a joint, blowing smoke rings into the evening air.

"You know," Gareth says one night to Steve as he plops down beside him onto the sunken couch in the garage, "If someone had told me in high school I'd be sitting here with King-Steve and sharing a beer after practice, I'd laugh in their face".

Steve fights down a wince at the mention of the old nickname, and nods once. Who was he kidding, 'King-Steve' was not something he'd ever be able to outrun.

"So," Gareth continues, tapping his hands against the neck of the bottle, "how's the crush going?"

Steve chokes on his beer and swings his hand up to pound his fist into his chest to loosen up the liquid, Gareth claps him on the back with an alarmed expression on his face.

"Jesus Harrington, y'alright?" Gareth says as Steve tries to catch his breath.

Steve nods and breathes deeply through his nose, his eyes flick to the open garage door to see if Eddie or Jeff are on their way back inside, "I-I don't think I heard you right," he manages with a rasp.

Gareth snorts and shakes his head, leaning back against the couch. He's quiet for a moment, eyes trained on Steve's face.

Steve, for his part, stares resolutely at the floor hoping his gaze is strong enough to burn a hole into the concrete he can jump into.

"Look," Gareth says after a beat, "I guess its not really any of my business Harrington," his eyes travel over to the open door before flicking back to Steve, "and I don't mean to sound like a prick when I say this, but you're not really his type man".

Something in Steve's throat pulls tight, bullshit echoes in the hollow cavity of his chest as he nods and swallows the last dreggs of his beer.

"Right," Steve mumbles, he puts his hands on his knees and stands up from the couch, "Right, yeah, I mean, makes sense...".

He crosses to the door and manages to toss the now empty can into an open bin they'd officially commandeered for empties.

"Dude," Gareth says softly standing as well, he makes no move to walk towards Steve though.

Steve waves a hand and drops the other to his back pocket to hide the sudden trembling. Gareth is right, it doesn't make sense. Why would someone like Eddie ever want to be with someone like Steve? How would that even work?

Always fast but never painless, right on time.

"You guys were uh, great as usual, I'll see you around man," Steve says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, he hasn't had to pull out the 'King Steve' smile in a few years but it still fits, still manages to hide a few things.

He turns away from Gareth and walks out through the open garage door.

The sun is nearly below the horizon and the stars have begun to migrate, the inky blue of night begins to steep into the last vestiges of light, if he's careful he can slip past Eddie and Jeff without either of them noticing.

He makes it to the beemer before Eddie turns towards him.

Eddie's brown eyes widen before narrowing in a questioning stare, he opens his mouth but Steve opens the car door and quickly slides into the driver's seat.

He stares straight ahead as he backs out of the driveway and pulls out onto the road.

Steve can feel those brown eyes follow him as he makes the long drive back to his empty house.

Part Two Now Up!

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #fanfic #hurt steve harrington #stranger things season four #is it bad that i love to hurt my favourite characters?#hurt and not a whole helluva lot of comfort #oblivious eddie munson #made myself sad with this one

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invidiia · 11 months

Note

you said i could do it so here i am 😇

i was thinking about this the other day—what if verlaines darling started learning french in secret while they were held captive? like they wanted to understand him better so they just found their old phone that they thought that verlaine discarded and they just downloaded an app to learn french😭

anyways that’s all LMAODH

français en secret - yan!paul verlaine x reader

❐ - yandere!verlaine (bsd) x reader

note ; HII I LOVE THIS REQUEST?! ALSO THANK YOU GUYS FOR 150+ FOLLOWERS ILY ALL!! i do not know french, so if anyone would correct me anything i put in this, i would absolutely appreciate it!! EDIT: CREDIT TO @eroqista FOR HE,PING ME WITH THE FRENCH PART BEAUSE WBFKEF

prompt ; after being stuck with the man for who knows how long, verlaine's darling began to learn french in secret.

warnings ; kidnapping, yandere/obsessive themes, gender neutral!reader,

it took a good while to find your old phone. you thought verlaine threw almost everything of yours out!

the screen was slightly damaged, a few cracks adorning the glass, but it was still slightly usable. verlaine had left the house again, after throwing you into the basement for whatever reason. perhaps he forgot about the boxes with your old belongings in them, boxes that he had been meaning to burn.

but the boxes weren't burned to ashes, and instead, they sat in the basement while dust collected. in another box was an old pen that had surprisingly not dried out, and a notebook.

you rarely saw verlaine visibly angry - but you could always tell when he was, after months of living with him, you learned to know his emotions. he semi-trusted you, but not enough to tell you exactly how he feels, other than that he loved you.

one thing you noticed more than often when verlaine was upset was that he would speak french - his native language. he would either be upset, talking to a colleague or friend, or just to himself, but you understood none of it.

maybe a good way to understand him more would be to understand what he was saying. that, or you could also try to escape with your new understanding of his words. maybe he would say over the phone how long he would be gone, and how far he was going, so you could create a window of time for your escape.

or you could simply learn the language and surprise him after getting good enough, and tell him the sweetest things exactly how he doesn't expect it.

It wasn't perfect.

Only three-four months of nonstop learning whenever you had time alone couldn't get you close to perfect. Even the basics weren't easy; it was very difficult. And it wasn't like you were hiding your learning well, either. Verlaine knew you spent an awful lot of time in the basement, so he often came down to check on you, but he'd just see you curled up in the corner with a notebook in hand, and when he looked at the paper, it was just cutesy drawings of flowers and bees and everything cute you could think of.

You had time to put the phone away and hide it since you could hear the door open, since you still weren't technically allowed to have that phone, even if you were just using it to learn another language.

(now, imagine the reader purposely trying to get put in the basement because they don't want to break their daily streak and get hunted by the duolingo bird. do your french lessons, Y/N.)

It took time, but eventually you were able to understand and make basic conversation.. which also meant you could listen in on phone calls he made while speaking in French only.

This could go two ways depending on your actions.

"You started learning French?" Verlaine looked almost impatient, looking at you while he waiting for an answer. You hadn't thought this through. How were you planning to explain to him exactly how? "I picked up on some of yours." You replied innocently, looking back down at your feet to alleviate the stress of the highly likely possibility that he doesn't believe your lie. "You just magically understood French from listening? What, did I leave a dictionary down there?" Verlaine stood up from his chair, sauntering behind you with a small smile on his face while you nodded. He wasn't smiling softly. "Good job." He placed a hand on your shoulder and turned to leave the room. It was that easy? He believed you like that?

But you should have known he didn't actually believe you. Verlaine was no idiot, it shouldn't be a surprise when you were waken up in the morning in the basement, with all of the boxes containing your old belongings gone.

The basement door was locked tightly, and the basement was now entirely empty. There was a note on the door, and attached with a paper clip, was one photo. There the boxes were - set ablaze and sat in front of a camera. The note read,

"J'ai trouvé ton téléphone, chéri. Tu vois les photos ? J'ai mis le feu aux boîtes. Ton vieux téléphone est dans l'une d'elles. Vraiment, bon travail, d'apprendre le français et de me le cacher. Tu aurais pu demander, j'aime passer du temps avec toi. Je te dirais bien "bonne chance pour la prochaine fois", mais je ne pense pas qu'il y aura une prochaine fois. Je t'aime."

#bsd verlaine #verlaine x reader bsd #yandere verlaine x reader bsd #yandere bsd x reader #bsd x reader #klya..requests #yandere bungou stray dogs #klya..best friends!! <3 #yandere bsd #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #tw yandere

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thecoffeelorian · 1 month

Text

And now, for something slightly different...

Hello again, everyone...

...Okay, gang...before we get started here, there's something I think I need to confess here first.

I don't know how in the world I'm supposed to feel about this show any more.

I mean...in the beginning, I thought their arc was clear as a bell: start removing every single darned inhibitor chip they could find, start the evac efforts to an Outer Rim planet, and then start rebuilding new lives, the end.

Instead, it's turned into what looks like a never-ending negative feedback loop: don't lift a finger to rescue a certain person; get told to give a darn about said person by the child character; finally act on the child's orders...but then as a creepy consequence for giving a darn at all, the title squad/'family'(?) starts watching its members not rethink one side of an ideological/psychological divide and leave them; not give up completely on rescuing Troopers/join the Margaritaville Society and leave them; not remember that there are human weight-bearing birds on a certain mountain planet and leave them; finally agree to be caught by the Empire in order to locate Mount Tantiss and leave them...and oh yes, let's add a 'Will They Kill A Brother/Won't They Kill A Brother' game to the mix, if things weren't totally weird enough...I mean, all right, already.

If this show WASN'T about having all six title characters come back together as a true family on an asylum planet, what IS happening here?

How in the world am I expected to respond to repetitive, exhausting moments of disaster and family splintering when for three whole years, I was endlessly told that there was NO disaster, that this was the PERFECT family, that they would NEVER end up shedding members one by one, etc...and...everything that the big-name fans and fandom influencers said WOULDN'T happen IS, in fact, happening right this very minute.

In other words, the squad and family keeps on disintegrating a little bit more with each new season, and I'm left thinking the same thing a few of you must have thought at least once.

Why am I here?

Is it because I'm studying this series as a whole like a certain Chiss studies art, and searching for all of its strengths and weaknesses in order to better improve my own writing? Is it for the sake of wishing to learn how to draw better, and practicing the craft in the safety of something familiar? Or, am I instead becoming some manner of corporate counter-revolutionary, and taking up fanworks as my mode of protest against stories that revolve more around too-short moments of cuteness and horror, sometimes solely for shock value alone...?

I'm afraid I can't answer questions like these just yet, no, not even to myself. I can only read and write and pretty much grieve everything that these episodes/seasons were supposed to be...yet for Force knows what reason, keep getting relegated to the same few plot points over and over again while expecting different results. I can only hope that there's some eventual breakthrough to make it all worth it in the end, if only to rid myself of the thought that this could be the very first bit of Nihilist media in the fandom.

Anyway...*deep breath* Now that I've given you my two cents on this issue...let's get right to my picks of the week, which, thanks to the return of a very interesting sister, I'm unofficially titling this as:

THE DATHOMIR EDITION

The Bad Batch Fan Art

Captain Howzer by @thespianwtch.

She Is Mommy by @anko-art.

Star Wars Rebels Fan Art

Alexsandr Kallus by @ghosty-blues1.

The Bad Batch Fan Fiction

You know, brother by whiteaxolotl

Fight Like Brothers Do by AgentMaryMargaretSkitz

deprogramming by vicious_creature

Whatever Is Necessary by ChopSyndulla

Domiciles by Polyphonic_Garden

Star Wars Sapphic Week, Day 5--Sparring by @violetjedisylveon

Serpent's Kiss by mediumsweet

Not A Soldier by TigerTheSpahget

Star Wars Sequels Fanfiction

What We Do In The Resistance by AgentMaryMargaretSkitz

And now, I'd like to put in a small advertisement, if only to bring more attention to an up-and-coming artist: @ve-ti-ver has started up their own Patreon page, available at this link . So, if you'd like to support them, please feel free to visit their page.

Finally, yes, you probably all know the drill by now...but just in case you need a reminder, here we go: Please give this post a like and a reblog, so that we can pass this post around the Internet and back!

This Week's No Pressure Tags Go Out To: @sharpasanaro @bananasugarwarrior @lazyprofessorpursesalad @callsign-denmark @melymigo @yeehawgeek @littlefeatherr @anko-art @guppyfreedom @giraffedragon-universe @clonebrainrot @gun-roswell @omglisalithium @falconfeather23435 @uuurgh @simply92-me @skellymom @metalatl @dathomirdumpsterfire @kuraiummei @thedynamicworm @ur-pal-ari @advisorsnips @groguandthebadbatch @lee-lee-la @themightychipmunk42 @random-chaotic-bitch @wastingstarsss @flyiingsly @ilovemedia @talesfrommedinastation @swarovski-yoda and anyone else who might be interested in catching more fanart and fanfictions.

Thank you, good afternoon, good luck, and...

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wifetomegatron · 7 months

Text

this is a happy house ( we're happy here ). tarn / afab!reader. nsfw! mdni!

[ tw : unhealthy relationship dynamics described & stockholm syndrome undertones.]

Tarn has always been idealistic, if not detached from reality. Already was he all over you, servos accidentally tearing into the material of your coat — delicate fabric caught in the seams of his metal. There was no remorse as he continued to undress you, a newfound charge of energy surging through his frame. You should stop him. He was stripping you in the middle of the snow, out on the surface of Messantine. Where the air was already thin and the temperature ridiculously cold.

But you know better than to protest, not when his eyes have dropped into a dangerous shade of red. At least he was heating up fast. And you find yourself asking him in between shallow breaths what's gotten him all worked up.

" Do I make you happy ?"

You froze. There was a moment of shock, a residual pause where you had to reel yourself back mentally to process the words. And yet Tarn's intake continued to leave wet, hurried kisses along your neck. He bit down your collarbone with enough pressure to shock you out of your trance. But not enough to draw blood — for now.

Not wanting to test the limits of his impatience, you answered.

" Y-you do."

Your voice was trembling, and you tried to blame it on the chill. The sharp pain from his bite melted into a warm, ripe heat that seeped into the pit of your stomach.

Immediately, you were lifted, effortlessly sprawled atop your pile of clothes. Strong arms, parting your legs to place them on either side of his waist.

" Is that true?"

It was true. You like to think he does. And even if you have to grit your teeth to swallow the bile rising out of your gut whenever you think of his crimes, his sins, you know you'll eventually learn how to turn a blind eye to them. You have to.

So you gave him a nod, suddenly breathless when he caged you with both arms. The heat is suffocating you from all sides. You can no longer feel the ice, the wind. Only him. Only Tarn.

" You belong to me," He murmured down your sternum as he bites down the underside of your chest, "You will always��stay with me."

Nickel had warned you about what his reaction to hearing Megatron's surrender might be. The Decepticon cause was his pantheon, and he was a devout who had just witnessed his deity abandon him. At this news, a small, hopeful part of you — one you thought had died, many, many months ago — had rejoiced at the idea. Maybe his grief will finally set you free.

Oh, but you've always been so naive.

Instead, this newfound freedom has housed an appetite in him that needs to come out: that needs to be bled and wrung and satiated. His hips keep moving, driving into you until you're just on the edge of consciousness. And you're partially suspended, at his mercy as he handles you to his liking. Then he slows and stops and pulls away to duck his head in between the mess, and you jumped when he gave one long drag across your clit —making you writhe and claw down his back.

You understand now. Tarn will never be without purpose. So long as he has that to cling to, you will continue to stay with him in this house. This dark and lonely house where the only music you can hear is his voice. His bird in a golden cage: singing as he touches you in all the right places.

Not knowing what else to do, you chose to submit to this want, tilting your neck to let him trail kisses down your jugular. Squashing whatever was left of that hope to trade it for his glossa.

( The illusion of choice is a beautiful, seductive thing. And Tarn was a collector of all things beautiful. And lonely. )

You can feel him smile against your pulse point, servos already working past your trembling cunt to start again.

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senanatheskenana · 1 year

Text

Genshin Guys’ Voice Line About Your Death

Kaeya

“What... No- that can’t be right... There must have been a mistake- i’ll go and ask jean myself, im sure she’ll put our worries at ease. No, im not in denial, i-i just think you’re wrong! You have to be.“

Diluc

“I’m still not completely at peace with their... absence. The winery is far too big now and i find it hard to sleep at night without them. But i try my best to keep going for them. It feels marginally better now that i’ve avenged them.“

Venti

“I almost took their form but once i looked at my reflection i found it too painful. I don’t want to be constantly reminded that everything i love leaves... i dont want to move on, i want them back... “

Albedo

“It’s already been a week. Most people would experience a decrease in grief by now. And yet i feel just as horrible as i did when i was first told... I see their face in every drawing, and hear their voice in every storm- it’s torture. “

Xiao

“I don’t wanna talk about it. It feels like if i do i’ll explode. You can join me, but please don't ask me about it while we walk. I don’t want to think about what i’ve lost...“

Tartaglia

“You know, i never thought i’d ever find someone as perfect as them... I fell in love, I brought them to my family... And now, i have to tell them that (Y/N) is never coming back again.“

Zhongli

“I came to terms with the deaths of my friends. I learned to accept the things that cannot be prevented... And yet it still hits me like a landslide and i feel myself being buried alive by my grief. I’m still not sure if i want to pull myself out.“

Kaedehara Kazuha

“Many people believe that once you die your spirit will take the form of a bird. I always promised that when i died, my soul would follow (Y/N) wherever they went in the world. I can only hope their soul will find me soon... Oh, would you look at that, it’s a dove, what is it doing all the way out here, i wonder.“

Thoma

“You know sometimes i still make two plates at breakfast. And i still sleep on the right side of the bed because the other side is theirs. Half of the closet is theirs, half of the garden is theirs- half of me is still theirs, even now...“

Arrataki Itto

“Woah, woah, woah! That’s a pretty heavy joke... Hehe... You- You are joking. Right? Please tell me you’re joking...“

Gorou

“Watatsumi Island buried a brave soldier today. The resistance lost a fighter, we all lost a friend... And i- i lost the only thing i had. You guys head off, i’ll stay here a little longer.... I need to collect myself.“

Kamisato Ayato

“Have you ever tried to keep water in your cupped hands? No matter how hard you try, it will leak, and eventually there will be nothing left. That is how i feel. No matter the effort i spend to keep face, i feel myself showing through the cracks.“

Tighnari

“My kind mate for life. When we find the one, we stay together for as long as time permits, and we love completely and as passionately as we can. Unfortunately i do not believe that any amount of time would have been long enough for me to have accepted their death.“

Cyno

“It’s quiet now. No one laughs at my jokes- there's no jokes for me to laugh at. I’m not even sure if i can think normally anymore. I’m thinking of resigning once again. I need to think about things.“

Scaramouche

“All you humans are weak... But, not- not (Y/N). For the first time i think i understand that love and kindness don't make you weak, but using that to your own advantage does. So i’ll hunt out every one of those bastards and make them beg for death. Then we’ll see who’s weak.“

#genshin headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact angst #genshin imapct #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagine

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florencemtrash · 10 months

Text

The Wisp Between Worlds

CHAPTER THREE: OVER THE WALL

Acotar fanfic/rewrite. Inner Circle x OC. Eventual Azriel x OC.

Summary: Have you ever wondered what you would do (and do differently) if you found yourself trapped in the fantasy world of your dreams? For Nora, this fantasy of hers is about to play out when she finds herself portaled away to the Moral Lands south of Prythian. But all is not as it seems. Feyre Archeron is missing and the deadline to break Amarantha’s curse draws near. Who will save Prythian now?

Warnings: None for this chapter

Masterlist

*Let me know if you would like to join the taglist*

________________

Dinah made good money that day, haggling at the market to sell the deer meat for a higher price than it was worth. They’d even cooked a few cuts for dinner in the fire, filling the house with the heady scent of meat that lasted long after they’d finished tearing into the food with reckless abandon. After nearly a week of surviving on stale bread, tea, and water it felt like they were doing something wrong. But after leaning back in her chair, stomach full and comfortably stretching the waistband of her pants, Nora wondered if it was the guilt eating away at her instead. If she was right about this, about everything, then she’d just killed a faerie today and the High Lord of the Spring Court would be coming for her.

Nora crawled into bed, bones weary and begging for rest. But her mind would not let her forget the glint of the steel tipped ashwood arrow sticking out of the beautiful wolf’s skull. Dinah and Jaskiel whispered to one another from their shared bed across the room. During the winter months they needed to crowd into the living room by the fire to escape the cold that seeped in through the floor and walls. Sleeping on opposite ends of the room was as much privacy as any of them would get. The beds themselves were little more than sheets stuffed with hay and scraps of wool from Dinah’s mending projects and just barely kept you from freezing on the ground.

Before Nora had met them, and before Jaskiel had fallen ill, him and Dinah had lived comfortable lives in this little cottage. Jaskiel was once a small-time merchant and craftsperson, making frequent travels to the Continent to trade his wooden trinkets for spices and silks to sell to nearby villages. Dinah stayed home, tending to the house and the now dead garden of roses in the backyard. Whatever comforts Jaskiel had brought back for Dinah had long since been sold to the highest bidder. The only pieces left from that previous life were the books tucked away in the corner shelf of the living room, swollen and yellowed from the many times they’d all run their fingers through the pages, and Dinah’s wedding ring.

“It was the first thing I bought on the Continent.” Jaskiel told her, smiling at the strange girl who sat on the floor by his feet, bright eyes staring at him with curiosity. After a bath and a dinner of boiled katniss she was looking better, less like a frightened bird with its wings clipped.

“My first successful trip, and certainly not my last! And I knew the first thing I needed to do when I came home was marry Dinah.” She smiled from her seat next to him, abandoning her sewing project for a moment to rub his knee. She was thinner now than when they’d gotten married, gray hair sprouting from her temples and framing the crows feet that grew from her eyes whenever she was happy. Her hands were stronger too, more calloused and accustomed to hard work after Jaskiel had gotten sick. By pure force of will she’d carried the two of them through life since then and she vowed to continue doing so.

Perhaps it was because they’d known a kinder life that they took Nora in, patiently allowing her to learn the skill of survival.

I don’t want to leave. Nora thought tearfully, praying to whatever gods existed in this world that she wouldn’t be swept away in the night. She’d dreamed of Prythian every day, dreamed of being able to go home. Part of her still wanted that, the other part simply wanted to make peace with the life she knew now. No more change, no more being taken to new places and forced to learn everything all over again.

Her prayer was not answered.

Dinah and Jaskiel had been asleep for hours now, unaware of the doom that had slipped through the wall and was now lurking outside their home. Nora lay awake, holding a knife close to her chest and continuing to murmur her pleas and prayers.

The front door blew open, shattering into a million pieces and raining down over their heads with sharp stabs. Nora immediately jumped to her feet, throwing her blanket around her to protect from the wood that continued to strike her as the creature clawed at the ruined door frame.

Dinah was screaming. Jaskiel shouted Nora’s name as he threw his body over his wife, grabbing his cane. His lame legs cried out in protest when he tried to stand, brandishing the glorified stick as a weapon.

Nora sprained across the room, heart pounding and vision a blur as she barely dodged the next spray of wood that came crashing down.

The beast had ripped the walls and part of the ceiling into ribbons with one angry swipe of his claws.

Well that was fucking rude. Nora thought, trying to quell the shaking of her hands as she stepped in front of Jaskiel and Dinah, holding her knife out towards the beast as he finally made his way into the room.

Every step shook the ground more powerfully than an earthquake. The little moonlight spilling through the cracks in the ceiling were snuffed out by his enormous frame. Standing taller than a fully grown man was a creature with the body of a bear, head of a wolf, and horns extending so far out from his skull it was a miracle they didn’t catch on the wooden beams. Pure muscle rippled underneath fur that glowed with a golden light, illuminating the mouth of jet black teeth that were bared as he roared, “MURDERERS!”

Nora cringed, clapping a hand over her ear. Don’t drop the knife. Don’t you dare drop the knife.

“MURDERERS!” he screamed again. The foundations of the house shook with his power. Dinah’s screams died into quiet whimpers. Jaskiel crumpled to the ground, legs folding like paper beneath his rickety frame.

“WHO KILLED HIM?!”

The house remained silent. Only Dinah’s choked sobs punctured the stillness of the night. Nora tried not to faint, her mind fracturing into a million pieces as she tried to think of what to do next.

Do I tell him I killed the faerie? Do I tell him I killed Andras? Was that even the faerie’s name? But he hasn’t told me who I killed. I know who I killed. Am I supposed to know who I killed? Am I supposed to know I killed a faerie at all? What will happen to Dinah and Jaskiel?

Infuriated by the silence he lifted one arm, slamming his paw into the ground so hard that it broke through the wooden floors. Nora could feel the heat of his breath as he drew near, shoving his face right up against hers. “WHO KILLED HIM?!”

Nora refused to falter, irritation slowly beginning to overtake her fear.

His breath smells like roses. How ridiculous.

“We didn’t kill anyone!” Dinah sobbed, clutching her husband's shaking arm. The beast took one step backward and Nora let out a breath of relief. They were still alive. Dinah must have caught onto that string of hope because she began to regain her composure. Her blubbering might do nothing more than enrage the beast enough to slaughter them all.

“Please we didn’t-” Jaskiel’s feeble words were cut off by a growl. The beast’s eyes were still fixated on Nora, filled with even more fury for the fact that she remained standing - standing with a weapon brandished in her hand. The gall of the girl. He ripped it out of her hand as easily as one swatted a fly. Nora was too shocked to register the pain in her forearm as she stumbled backward, blood dripping down her hand and landing with a rhythmic thump thump thump onto the floor.

If he regretted hurting her he didn’t show it. As if to make a further point that he could kill them all in an instant, he whirled around towards the dining table. It exploded without so much as a whisper from him, taking out a chunk of the wall in the process.

His horns threw shadows against what remained, twisting and turning like a pair of skeletal hands. Jade green eyes glared out, filled with fury and some small seed of grief. “Who killed him?”

“We didn’t kill anyone.” Nora said. Her pain made her angry.

“LIAR! THE WOLF! Who killed the wolf?”

Jaskiel and Dinah shared a look. Nora hadn’t said anything about a wolf.

“I did.” The young girl didn’t flinch, although her throat tightened from the admission like someone had a hand around her neck. “I killed a wolf. This morning in the woods.”

“Hush, child.” Dinah hissed. She tore a strip of fabric from her dress and tried to stem the flow of blood from Nora’s arm.

“And did you know?” The High Lord growled out, barely concealing the threat of death in his voice, “Did you know he was faerie?”

The color drained from Nora’s face.

This is it. Two choices: lie and say you didn’t know and maybe he’ll let you live. Or… tell the truth. Tell him you knew the wolf was a faerie. Tell him you killed him out of hatred. Go to Prythian… try and get home.

The beast caught the flicker of recognition in Nora’s eyes, caught the narrowing of her inky black eyes in a look of hatred.

“You did know.” he seethed. He pulled away from her, disgust in his eyes at the feeble human girl before him. This was the girl who’d killed Andras. Some pathetic little human had slaughtered his trusted friend. “Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy it when you slaughtered my friend.” He prowled about the room, never taking his eyes off the three of them still huddled in the corner by the cinders.

“Better him than me.” Nora held her head up, glaring at him.

“No.” Jaskiel breathed out, grabbing at her uninjured hand. “Please,” he begged the beast, “She’s my daughter. She’s young. She didn’t know any better. She was afraid.”

“Is that true?” the beast hissed, baring his fangs, “Did he attack you?”

She squared her shoulders. “No.”

“So you slaughtered him. Unprovoked. You murdered him.”

Nora barked out a laugh, “And how many humans have you murdered? How many will you continue to murder? How many homes will you break into? How many lives will you threaten?” her voice was filled with venom as she spit out the words, “I hope your friend is suffering right now in the afterlife. I wasn’t certain at the time, but now that I know he’s faerie I don’t regret it at all. I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

She ignored his deep growl and dealt a final blow, “It was a quicker death than he deserved.”

With a roar he brought his claw down on the bookshelf next to him, shattering it completely. The beloved tomes tumbled onto the floor, half shredded and dusty from their fall.

If you were really going to kill me, you would’ve done it by now.

The fear of a painful death with Tamlin sinking his teeth into her throat and thrashing her around had made Nora forget one key fact: she knew this story. She knew about the curse that hung over his head - that hung over Prythian - and like it or not, he needed her.

The realization gave her power. She stood up again, ignoring Dinah’s desperate hands as she tried to force her daughter to kneel again, “What do you want?”

“What do I want? I want justice for what you did. I want you to pay.”

“We’ll pay the cost.” Dinah said frantically, “Name your price.”

Nora’s heart broke. Please don’t.

They had no money to spare. Dinah worked hard enough as it was, coming home every night with bleeding and cracked hands, and Jaskiel could do little more than beg for scraps of work. The wealthy in the village would offer them no respite, no mercy. They were too comfortable behind their iron gates and towering walls. Nora didn’t want to see Dinah beg too.

“And what is the price you’d lay on your daughter’s head?” the beast asked, stepping off the ruined shelf. Dinah stilled. “Whatever pathetic sum you offer won’t be enough. Andras was worth more than one-hundred of you.”

“Then what would be enough?” Tell us and be done with it already. “What do you want?”

“A life for a life. That’s what I want.”

“I’ll pay it.” Jaskiel said, voice even and strong. Dinah swore at him as he struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane.

“What the hell are you doing, Jaskiel?” Nora hissed, turning around and stepping directly between him and Tamlin.

His kind face, weathered and leathery after decades of sea travel, softened when Nora’s face blocked the terrifying beast. She knew he liked her. He’d treated her with the love and kindness he would have shown his own daughter if he and Dinah had ever been blessed in that way. But the fact remained that Nora wasn’t theirs. She owed them a debt that could never be repaid and she wouldn’t forgive herself if anything happened to them.

“I’ll pay the price.” He said again, stepping to the side. Nora stepped with him, refusing to let Tamlin get close to Jaskiel.

“No he won’t.” Nora commanded, swinging back to Tamlin. The beast’s eyes flickered for a brief moment with something like surprise.

“As touching as the offer is,” he drawled, “I want the actual murderer.”

“Take me outside then. Don’t do it here.”

Again, that flicker of surprise, “You dare ask for such a thing?” He scoffed, eyes narrowing.

“I wasn’t asking. You already ruined half the house and left a hole in the floor, you don’t need to fill it with blood either.” Nora spit out.

He snarled, “For having the gall to ask me for such a thing, I’ll clarify something: I want your life. Prythian wants a life for the one you stole. So either you come with me across the wall to live out the rest of your days, or I take you outside and tear you to pieces as you so kindly told me to do.” His lips pulled back in a threatening smile.

“So either you kill me here and now, or some other beast over the wall kills me in a few days time. Tell me, Beast, which would be quicker?”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. There was something in the way he moved, cat-like and predatory. Doubt flickered within her. What if I’m wrong? What if he kills me?

“I have lands,” Tamlin said carefully after some consideration, “So long as you don’t leave those lands you will be safe.”

“And what about Dinah and Jaskiel?” His eyes flickered over to the pair. Dinah’s eyes were trained on him, fear and fury simmering under the surface of her now composed face.

“What about them?”

“They’ll die without me. You only asked for one life. What fairness in ‘a life for a life’ is there if my absence leads to their deaths.”

Dinah and Jaskiel both tugged harshly at the back of her sleep shirt, begging her to control her boldness.

If a wolf could frown, it would look like the annoyance that crossed Tamlin’s face. “They’ll be taken care of.”

Nora’s breath caught in her throat. Did he mean it? He must mean it. I’ll give him hell if he doesn’t help them.

“You swear it?”

Tamlin’s eyes passed through each of them in turn. Nora, the girl’s name was. He tested the name out in his mind finding it agreeable enough. And he had to admit, some small piece of him was impressed - if not annoyed - by her boldness. The couple would surely die without her, already their frames were too thin and delicate to support their aging souls.

“I swear it.” He said, and found it a very easy promise to make, “But, you must promise to never leave Prythian. The moment you step foot back in the Human Lands, the deal is off, and I can’t promise what will become of your precious little family.”

“Take the offer.” Dinah said, turning Nora around and grasping her too-thin face. Tears welled up in her amber eyes and Nora did all she could to stop the rising emotions in her chest. “Take the offer. You’re a survivor, child. You’ll make it. You’ll make something of yourself.”

Jaskiel said nothing, face falling and aging twenty years in a few mere seconds.

“When does she leave?” Dinah said with a sniffle, wiping her tears away and taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Now.”

“Now?!” Nora wanted more time with them. She wanted one more night.

“Now.” The decision was not up for discussion.

Dinah grabbed Nora’s shoulders, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “Don’t worry about us,” she whispered, burying her face into Nora’s dark hair, “Just worry about taking care of yourself, alright? You know how.” She kissed Nora’s cheeks, wiping her hands on her nightdress as Jaskiel took his turn.

Nora braced her legs, feeling the weight of Jaskiel in her arms as he held her close. His legs may have been weak and broken, but his arms were strong. He brushed the hair back from her face with a calloused hand, stormy gray eyes expressing all he could not say. Goodbye. You will always be a daughter to me. Until we meet again.

Dinah grabbed her thickest cloak from the back of Jaskiel’s chair and threw it over Nora’s shoulders. Somehow the most important piece of furniture had managed to survive Tamlin’s rage. Final whispers of encouragement escaped Dinah’s lips before the beast snapped at them to leave, maneuvering through the wreckage he’d created with grace and power.

Nora could do nothing but allow her hand to slip through Dinah’s and quietly trail after the beast.

He led her to a beautiful mare that had been waiting obediently for them by the treeline. Her coat was as silky and pristine as a polished pearl. Nora hesitated. She’d never ridden a horse before, but Tamlin was in no mood to wait any longer. He grabbed her roughly by the waist with one paw and dumped her unceremoniously onto the mare’s back.

Asshole. She glared at the back of his horns as he led them into the night.

When Nora looked behind her she found Dinah and Jaskiel standing together in the gaping hole of their now ruined house. She didn’t stop looking until the woods closed around her and her home disappeared from sight.

>>>

They traveled for hours through the woods, the sun slowly sliding into place over the horizon and transforming the frost-bitten forest into the world’s largest chandelier. The constant rocking of the pearl-coated horse beneath her made Nora’s stomach turn and her thighs ached from the effort of staying upright. Tamlin’s utter silence didn’t make matters any better as he traced some secret path through the woods. Over time the rhythmic crunch of snow breaking beneath the mare’s hooves began to drive Nora to insanity.

You’re supposed to be getting me to fall in love with you, you know? Fucking idiot.

The more and more Nora thought about the events from last night, the more irate she grew. He’d crashed into her house in the middle of the night in his beast form, scared them nearly to death, demanded Nora leave her home, and now wasn’t even putting in the effort to speak to her. It was deathly silent in these woods, as if even the squirrels and birds knew that royalty walked among them.

Nora huffed. Tamlin continued to walk unbothered.

“You didn’t need to break into my house like that.” She said pointedly, breaking the silence.

Tamlin’s left ear twitched. “What did you say?”

Nora rolled her eyes. With his fae senses there was no way he hadn’t heard her.

“I said you didn’t need to break into my house like that.”

He ignored her, which only fueled her desire to speak her mind out loud.

“You could have stolen me away in the night without bothering them. You could have waited until daylight when we weren’t sleeping.”

“You’re upset because my timing wasn’t convenient enough for you?”

Nora frowned. When he put it that way her words sounded quite childish. “What I’m saying is that you barged into my home with more pomp and circumstance and-and drama than you needed to.”

“You killed my friend.”

Nora stilled. She wanted to apologize for it. As much as she didn’t like Tamlin she regretted what she did. Part of the reason she hadn’t been able to fall asleep the night before was because she kept seeing the light leave Andras’s eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from hearing the pitiful whine that had escaped his throat as he finally stilled. She’d dared to touch his body to close his eyes. But as quickly as she’d laid her hands on him she’d reeled back. In the time it had taken her to gut the deer and bind it to the sled, his body had turned cold and rigid.

“You threatened to kill my family.” She said lamely.

“And yet they’re still alive, aren’t they?” “How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t just send someone else to kill them after we’re beyond the wall?” “I promised you they would be taken care of. I keep my promises. The question is whether you’ll keep yours.” His voice was gentler, more tired the further and further they got from Nora’s village. She thought his power would be tied to Prythian in some way - that he would gain strength as they neared the wall. Instead he was dragging his feet, limbs landing on the ground with heavier steps as they went along. She made note of every change in his body, storing the information away to mull over later.

“If it means they’re safe you can be sure I’ll keep true to my side of things.” She replied.

He’d been walking ahead of her the entire time, forcing the mare into a brisk pace that had Nora jolting in her seat, but after a few moments of cautious thinking he slowed down to walk beside her. Even while atop a horse, Tamlin stood taller than Nora, his horns dangling over her head like the swaying branches of a tree. She looked at them for a long while, tracing the grooves in the bone all the way down to where they connected to Tamlin’s skull. He stared at her the whole time.

“You don’t look like your parents.” Tamlin said carefully, catching her eye.

Nora snorted. With her dark hair and darker eyes and… well the rest of her, she was well aware that no piece of her looked like it came from Dinah or Jaskiel.

“They’re not my parents.”

She flung her arm out, grasping at Tamlin’s horn for support when the mare took a quick jump over a fallen log. Her thighs were burning now, holding onto the lean body beneath her like a lifeline.

“Sorry.” Nora muttered, jerking her hand back to her body and cradling it beneath the folds of her cloak. She flexed it uncomfortably.

She’d just touched the High Lord of the Spring Court.

Suppressing a shiver she instead focused her attention on the strip of fabric still wrapped expertly around her forearm, running her fingers over the material and ignoring where it dried stiff with blood. It reminded her painfully of Dinah. She would have to mend the rest of her nightgown now. Nora hoped she hadn’t stained it too badly with any blood.

“What happened to your real parents?” Again he asked the question carefully, like she was a flight risk he couldn’t afford to scare off… which she very much was.

“They’re alive… or dead… I don’t know.” A truth. “I was stolen from them too and brought here from the Continent to be sold by slavers.” A lie.

“But you escaped.” He almost sounded impressed.

“Obviously.”

And one day I’ll escape from you too.

The words hung unspoken between the two of them like a spider’s web between two branches, delicate and complex. They descended into silence once more.

“I’ll need to bind your eyes when we cross the wall.”

“What? Why?” Nora snapped her eyes to Tamlin and she forgot about the raven in the sky she’d been examining for the last twenty minutes.

“I cannot risk you seeing my lands.” His back tightened and he held his head up high.

“You said I would be safe in your lands.”

“You will be. That doesn’t mean I want you to see all of them.”

Because you don’t want me to know how to run away.

“Fine.”

A black silk sash appeared in Nora’s hands, cool as water and weightless as she obediently tied it tightly around her eyes. He must have enchanted the fabric because when she tugged at the knot she made it would not budge. She tested the blindfold but as much as she tried to pull it off it would not give. She huffed as she gave up, turning her head towards where she imagined Tamlin still was. He may be taller than a man and ten times heavier but his footsteps were imperceptible.

Blindness forced her to see with her ears, straining to identify every flutter of wings and rustle of snow falling onto the ground from a disturbed branch. She was just about to ask when they’d reach the wall when the world went still.

All the sounds of the forest she’d been analyzing died out. Magic rippled through the air, humid and all consuming as it reached out for her.

Her face paled. Suddenly she was back in the sea, screaming underwater as salt water filled her lungs and magic dragged her from her world to this one. Her reigns on the horse tightened, knuckles losing all their color.

“Take off your cloak.” Tamlin said tightly. “You won’t need it anymore.”

Nora only gripped the cloak tighter as though it would keep out the magic that threatened to consume her.

Tamlin said nothing, but he must have continued forward because despite Nora’s protests, the mare passed through the break in the wall.

They passed through like they were passing through a waterfall. Magic rushed over Nora’s body, slick and alien, but it was quickly replaced by the comfortable heat of spring. The heady scent of flowers filled her nose, clouding her mind with their fragrance. While the oppressing winter in the Mortal Lands had driven all but the scavenger birds into their homes, here they fluttered about seeking companions with whom to live out the eternal spring. The subtle morning sun blanketed Nora’s shoulders, heating her up beneath her clothes. Still she refused to give up the last piece of her home.

Tamlin let out a sigh of relief or despair - Nora couldn’t tell - as he felt his bond to Prythian grow once more. His magic would always run through his veins as intrinsically as blood - being in the Human Lands had done nothing to diminish that power - but he could not deny his connection to the magic that ran through Prythian, a magic that was beyond himself and to which he was only a borrower. These were the lands to which he would be tied until the end of his days.

“Welcome to the Spring Court, Nora.”

________________

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoyed! Apologies it ended up a lot longer than I was expecting... whoops 😅. I have a masterlist up and am also starting a taglist so if you want to be added just let me know!

Taglist: @myheartfollower @impossibelle

#acotar #acotar rewrite #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #the spring court #acotar spring court #inner circle #inner circle x oc #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger x oc #azriel shadowsinger #found family #writeblr #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel x reader #tamlin #tamlin the tool #shadowsinger

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agentem · 7 months

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Preparing for "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes"

I'm going to talk about the Hunger Games series some more because I'm in a hyperfixation.

If you saw the movies and/or read the books awhile ago, you might need a bit of a refresher before seeing The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (in theaters November 17!).

BALLAD is set 64 years before the events of The Hunger Games. It is takes place around the 10th Annual Hunger Games and Katniss competes in the 74th Hunger Games.

So really you just have to remember that Panem is a the country and they have Hunger Games. That's pretty much it. Ballad deals with how the Hunger Games themselves went from being a plain punishment to a spectacle that is still a punishment. You'll see.

There are only two characters from the first movie series in the prequel, as far as I know.

The first is this jerk:

Coriolanus Snow was originally played by Donald Sutherland and will now be portrayed as a teenager by Tom Blyth.

The other is a character you might not remember.

Tigris Snow appeared VERY briefly in the movie Mockingjay Part 2 (and the book Mockingjay). She was played by Eugenie Bondurant. We learn she was a stylist for the Hunger Games. Her heavily tatooed and feline appearance surprises Katniss. The director Cressida approaches her, saying she was part of Plutarch Heavensbee's underground. Tigris smiles when Katniss says she's going to kill President Snow and shelters Katniss's squad.

So it was a bit of a shock when Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes the book came out and revealed that Tigris is Coriolanus' cousin, who practically raised him because his mother died in childbirth.

In Ballad, Tigris is a cinnamon roll too pure for this world played by Hunter Schafer of Euphoria. I don't think it's a spoiler to say that we do not know what happened to her in between the two time periods. (Suzanne, if you are reading this, we need a Tigris novel. Or at leastanother novel in which she appears.)

I'd like to know if Tigris did her body modifications because she wanted to (I hope) or if it was to disguise her appearance (but she kind of draws attention to herself?) or maybe to cover up some scars? I'm worried about her. (Anyone got theories?)

Family Members

We do see some characters that are related to characters that will appear in the main trilogy.

Lucky Flickerman, played by Jason Schwartzman, is related to Cesar Flickerman, played by Stanley Tucci. Both are TV presenters that are involved with the production of the Hunger Games.

Snow is also classmates with members of the Crane and Heavensbee families. Seneca Crane (Wes Bentley) was the Gamemaker with the funny beard in the first movie. And Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman) was a key figure in the revolution that eventually overthrows Snow in Mockingjay Part 2.

TLDR, the elite families of the Capitol are insular. They all go to the same school and live in the same area. Outsiders are not welcome. Especially outsiders from the Districts.

Other Connections

SONGS

Ballad will also follow a female tribute from District 12. For the 10th Hunger Games that is Lucy Gray Baird, played by Rachel Zegler. Lucy Gray is very different from Katniss. She is a singer and performer, not a hunter. Her family is a group of other children that were once part of a traveling singing troupe called "the Covey". (They are now kind of stuck in 12 since the Rebellion.)

The song "The Hanging Tree" that Katniss sings in Mockingjay Part 1 is a part of Ballad. We learn that Lucy Gray wrote that song. And it is implied that the littlest member of the Covey, Maude Ivory, is related to Katniss' father. She is probably his mother or grandmother, which explains how Katniss knows the song more than 60 years later. (This theory has not been confirmed by Suzanne Collins but makes the most sense.)

Keep your eye on this little one.

BIRDS

Also you may wish to refamiliarize yourself with the fictious creature called the Mockingjay. The book Ballad features the bird itself, whereas the movies mostly focused on it as a symbol of the revolution (Katniss).

But mockingjays are hybrid birds created when the Capitol's genetically engineered jabberjays (these were seen in the arena in Catching Fire torturing Finnick and Katniss with their lifelike screams) mated with mockingbirds and a new species came about. Thereafter they were associated with the rebellion against the Capitol as a symbol. Katniss says they were something of a "slap in the face" to the Capitol--a sign they didn't actually have total control.

This symbolism will be furthered when Katniss herself wears a mockingjay pin into the arena and Rue teaches her how to use them to signal to each other. And then it becomes a whole thing where Katniss "is" the Mockingjay and that's the title of the third book/third and fourth movies.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #suzanne collins #the hunger games #the hunger games: catching fire #the hunger games: mockingjay part 2 #the hunger games: mockingjay part 1 #katniss everdeen #coriolanus snow #tigris snow #mockingjays #spoilers

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itsyourearthtoo · 4 months

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Dinosaurs are not extinct.

The fact that Dinosaurs, the rulers of Mesozoic earth are extinct is not at all a 'news' to you, right?

Yeah, I mean considering you or your distant cousins belong to the Holocene earth and actively taking part in this Anthropocene, you have been technically taught right since your childhood, that YES! DINOS, THE GIANT LIZARDS ARE EXTINCT. And, even if I write something on this, won't make a big deal. But what will make quiet a big deal is, if I write and actually go onto claim that NO! DINOSAURS AREN'T EXTINCT! Now this is what that sixth grader would say, "Yes, I want more of this... go on I'm listening."

By now, you might be thinking that this is a big statement I have made. But what if I tell you, go and ask this same question to a paleontologist or maybe some evolutionary biologist. Trust me, try it out and you'll see, it's not much of a shock to them as it was to you. Dinosaurs are not extinct, they know it. But do they say it? NO (and this is what this blog is all about)

You see, in the world of Paleontology or (to be more precise)Dinosaur Paleobiology there are two very vaguely defined things. And by saying, 'very vague' it's actually quiet serious. I mean if at least one of these two would have been crystal clear to us, I wouldn't have been writing this blog today.

First, the very meaning of the word Dinosaur! yes... it literally means "A Giant Lizard" (as you all might already know). Why Sir Richard Owen, why did you do this? I mean there's a whole different story to this though, but yeah the great paleontologist of his time could have come up with something more better and clearer.

Now, if you are that average sixth grader wondering what's actually wrong with A GIANT LIZARD, well let me shatter your childhood learnings and say that, dinosaurs are related to lizards but not that related enough to actually call them lizards!

Avoiding, scientific stuffs here (you'll get bored otherwise) let me get this straight. Assuming you are aware of a phylogenetic tree, look at this below -

Just look at where Lizards and the group of Dinosauria or Non Avian Dinosaurs are! In our planet's great evolution story (with regards to Geological Time Scale of course), lizards and dinosaurs both went on to follow separate paths of development.

Now the sixth grader might argue, "Oh cmon! but they do have a common ancestry at some point right, like mentioned here as Diapsida?" Well its true, but going with this, it all comes down to that one single-celled microorganism or maybe that RNA molecule made of just proteins from which life eventually began and the fact then becomes, YOU are also a lizard or fish or any insect. Not so happy with that ain't you. Trust me, my brain's okay digesting this but you or an average sixth grader won't be proud calling themselves a disgusting house fly :)

This is what I call 'A Game of Perspective'.

Perspective, to actually define events with regards to our evolutionary history. This is... what I feel, the most difficult thing to do in paleontology, apart from the fact that you define something one day and tomorrow you dig something out related to your newly defined 'thing' which actually makes you rewrite the whole definition, previous day going in vain.

Hence, the giant lizard, based on the above phylogenetic tree, does live. It's not at all extinct. Komodo dragon, take this for an example if you aren't satisfied with your house lizard. Now, this obviously doesn't bring back the famous Tyrannosaurus Rex or Velociraptor right? They are indeed extinct. But, if you are attentive enough to actually see 'Birds' in the above phylogenetic tree branching out of the Dinosauria group, ask yourself, "Is the chicken, that I love to eat from KFC extinct?"

The answer is an undebated NO and this is where the 'second vague' thing comes in - Where to draw the line and define birds as a whole separate species?

Look at a closer division of Dinosauria in the above figure and you will see that 'Aves' has actually branched out from 'Theropoda', which itself has branched out from 'Saurischia'. Aves, is what you might already know, refer to the birds. Now the main point of confusion is at what point in evolutionary history did a chicken become a chicken from its theropod descendants. The game of perspective comes up here, and we look into the definition of birds with regards to theropods (group of Dinosauria), because we know that they are their evolutionary successors. (look at the above figures again if you still don't believe)

Birds as Archeopteryx and all of its descendants.

Pretty cool right? I mean if you follow paleontology to some extent you might know that Archeopteryx is the missing link fossil between a bird and a dinosaur. But is it a bird or a dinosaur?

More precise - Is Archeopteryx a bird or a theropod?

The issue here is, recent studies have shown that Archeopteryx is more related to Dromaeusaurids (a small clade of feathered dinosaurs) than modern day birds.

2. Birds as feathered dinosaurs.

As good as it may sound, feathers! It is the most confusing body part of a Dinosaur, because more and more fossils show that they had feathers attached to them. Even your favorite T-Rex is now believed to have it! (Note - Jurassic Park is just a movie, there's a whole lot more to dinosaurs than to just get chased by them in a park)

3. Birds as flying dinosaurs.

Again, it is difficult to determine exactly which dinosaurs were capable of flying (as opposed to simply gliding). Also from a modern perspective, penguins for instance don't fly. But they are birds!

4. Birds as crown dinosaurs, meaning the last common ancestor of all extant birds and its descendants.

This is somewhat the most favored definition by paleontologists till date, but the problem here is, it ignores many feathered and flying dinosaurs that are more closely related to modern birds than to Archaeopteryx as birds.

Just look at how the highlighted region fades as we go from modern birds towards Archeopteryx and so on.

So, YES... saying that the Ornithischian group of dinosaurs is extinct, isn't wrong at all. Even the Sauropod group of Saurischian dinosaurs are extinct. But the Theropods, the same evolutionary line of Tyrannosaurus Rex isn't extinct, unless paleontologists can actually draw the line to separate modern day birds from them.

Paleontologists are still trying to figure this line out and believe me, this is quite challenging. I would like to quote here, studying what's underneath is much more difficult than something just above your head. You see, your goal isn't far in paleontology... it's hidden and that's what makes it more difficult.

Now, is it even necessary to actually draw this line. I'm afraid it is, otherwise blogs like this will come up more and disturb the already disturbed lives of paleontologists, dinosaur paleobiologists out there.

And... till the time this line is drawn, respect the chickens that you eat as they are your living dinosaurs. (I mean, I am not promoting veganism here, but just respect them, yeah... can't think of anything else)

Figure References - Figure 1 (in order) taken from Macroevolutionary patterns in the evolutionary radiation of archosaurs (Tetrapoda: Diapsida) by Stephen L Brusatte | September 2010 Earth and Environmental Science Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh 101(3-4) Figure 2 (in order) taken from www.opengeology.org | Image by Callan Bentley Figure 3 (in order)taken from Dino101: Dinosaur Paleobiology 200/201 University of Alberta | Modified from Hackett et al.2008

If you have made it this far, thanks a lot. Feel free to ask me any dumb thing. Trust me, dumb questions often lead to great discoveries!

Anyways, this is it for my first blog.

For the love of Earth Science :D Byeee

#dinosaur #earth #geology #science #writing #museums

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fandomite · 6 months

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SPOILERS FOR A BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES

Just want to preface this by saying I have yet to read the book (I had been given many [inaccurate] reviews of the book that put me off, so I refused to read it, I will be reading it now immediately now that I know those reviews were wildly incorrect), so I went into the movie with only the barest of bones of an idea of what it was about, having only read/watched the original Hunger Games trilogy years ago.

ANYWAY

One of the things that hit me like a train by the ending of the movie was the context switch up from the title itself.

“Songbirds and Snakes” and I’m sure we all made the same assumption of well obviously Lucy Gray is the Songbird and Snow is the Snake. Lucy Gray is literally referred to as “songbird” by others (usually in a derogatory way), obviously because she’s a singer and sang on the stage of her reaping. Snow is part of the Capitol where backstabbing is second nature, and most everyone is just poison and venom dressed in fine clothes. Lucy Gray is the colorfully dressed creature who lives life vibrantly while Snow is the sharp eyed student clad in blood red in a greedy world where friends just don’t happen. We see Snow literally cheat twice in the Games for Lucy Gray while she herself works to avoid the conflict and hide and wait it all out. Snow backstabs his only friend while we see Lucy Gray continue her life of performing onstage.

But then the third act of the movie happens. The ending happens. And the whole context of this dichotomy shifts.

Lucy Gray is the Snake. And Snow is the Songbird.

We see Snow get shipped off to District 12 as punishment for cheating. His clothing becomes grayed out, he himself looking washed out, his hair trimmed short, his wings clipped. Lucy however is seen thriving, singing, out in the open while performing, and back to living quietly but vibrantly with her troupe/family, a bracelet resembling a snake is on her wrist but not easily visibly. Snow becomes the songbird as he chooses to use the jabberjays, as he chooses to sing to Dr. Gaul of his friend’s plans that he sees as treason because he’ll never leave his nest. He acts on a hair trigger, only thinking it through after the fact, flies immediately into actions. We see him flit from place to place throughout the whole film, with urgency, and seemingly making things up as he goes, and they work out for the most part. He is eventually caught, like the jabberjays. Like a jabberjay, he’s constantly repeating the rhetoric of the Capitol that he’s grown up learning, and believes it, throwing it back at his companions with repetition and intensity, like the birds screaming the finals words of the Hanging Trees victims.

Lucy Gray meanwhile goes back to keeping to herself, only striking back or reacting if provoked. Her clothing is unusually colorful and keeps drawing people in, either being called a clown or having several people ask after it. It her mother’s and she admits to wearing it like armor, like a second skin, as protection for herself while in the Games, and finally sheds it when she returns home to the safety of her troupe and people. But her other outfits are just as colorful, just as eye-catching. Like venomous animals utilize as a warning. She uses poison in the Games rather than outright combat, she hides and waits out the majority if the danger until she can’t any longer, and is unaffected by the snakes as if she were one of them, due to them knowing her scent. She swerves and almost dances through the start of the Games and escapes death by inches. After she clues into Snow’s true nature, she lures him out to the cabin, where she slips through his fingers and escapes death once again, after loosing a snake on him and messing with his mind, and eventually disappears. Dr. Gaul calls her tank of snakes “a rainbow of destruction”, and Lucy Gray is quite literally a walking rainbow for the whole film.

Whether it was meant to be like this or not, neither character is blatantly cut-and-dry either a songbird or a snake, they’re both. But there’s a clear shift in their assigned role from the start of the film to the end of the film, and it’s so subtle and well done.

Sidenote: Dr. Gaul’s “blood” outfit is just a VISCERALLY excellently crafted piece that is perfect to getting her character across immediately, holy fucking hell. The red fade in from the top, to the white on the bottom half, as if she’s had her neck sliced and is bleeding out, to the wet leather red gloves and if her hands are coated in fresh blood. FUCK, DUDE—

#a ballad of songbirds and snakes #a ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers #abosas #bosas #bosas spoilers #the hunger games #hunger games #suzanne collins #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #character analysis

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dulcesiabits · 10 months

Text

first crush, second love.

summary: some drabbles for my @shepherds-of-haven MC and Chase involving an animal soulmate au (i-iii), and realizing when they're in love (iv-v). A compilation of some pieces that I like the best out of my recent SHOH works!!!

notes: 2.3k words, drabbles, suggestive content (nothing explicit), soulmate au, depictions of animal injury, introspection

i. The Cat

As was the manner for all creatures of its ilk, the cat had a habit of going wherever it pleased, with no prior warning to Qilan; whatever mythical quality it should have had as the manifestation of her soulmate’s soul meant very little to a cat. It could disappear for days at a time, and then reappear on her window the next day, batting at the glass to be let in. On other occasions, it would leap into her lap, purring loudly until she scritched its chin or behind its ears, lolling for hours in its new spot.

Qilan, in turn, was content to leave it alone. Chasing the cat would only serve to lose its trust forever. Once, when she was a child, the cat had been more affectionate, more playful; it was a sleek black kitten like a stain of oil that would shadow her steps everywhere she went, clumsy kitten paws that kneaded at her back and mewed until she picked it up. It snuggled with her at night, hissed at the neighborhood bullies for approaching too closely, and licked at her wounds when she scraped her knees running in the forest.

It had been her only companion when she spoke the unknown word and her village disappeared, and she was left alone with nothing but a knife and her own wits to survive. It slept in the curve of her body, warmed her on the cold winter days, and would nibble on scraps of fish she managed to catch off the coast.

Perhaps her relationship with the cat changed the day the kitten started growing and sporting fresh wounds on the daily, a reflection of her soulmate’s own physical body. Each time, she would mop up the blood, bandage the wounds, and stroke its sleek back as it curled up in pain. Eventually, the wounds stopped, but so did the cat’s affections, and she wondered what that meant for her distant soulmate.

Still. Still, the cat was her constant companion, her only friend, and she would not hold it so tight to her that it ran away. No, better to coolly love it a distance, if that was the only way to love it at all. Soulmates were a pretty fantasy; if she were to meet hers, Qilan wasn’t sure she could give them what they wanted if they expected flowers and romance, when she herself didn’t know what love was supposed to feel like anymore. Perhaps if she rolled the word around on her tongue enough, she could call it back to herself, drawing on that dangerous wellspring of power, bubbling deep within her.

But words, as she had learned, were dangerous. To speak was to give them power. To confess was to give something to the world that you could never take back.

For now, it was just her and the cat, who would only creep close to her when she appeared to have fallen asleep at night, emerald eyes gleaming in the darkness as it held watch. Love, but only if you couldn’t call it such, only if it was at such a distance it could be mistaken for something else.

ii. The Swift

The bird never stopped flying.

Chase has long gotten used to the way it swooped and soared, wings beating in an eternal rhythm. Most days, he didn’t even notice it, caught up in a new scheme or spot of mischief, the little thing so far out of sight. But sometimes, sometimes, when he looked up at the endless blue of the sky, it was all he could see.

He never put much stock in soulmates or guardian animals: a connection the One-God gave you, someone destined to love you and to be loved by you, their soul manifesting in an animal to watch over you? It sounded like a load of shit, cooked up by the Autarchy to explain away magical creatures that followed people around. Perhaps the closest he had ever come to believing in it when he was little, out on the open sea, among the spray of salt and wind.

Back then, Chase loved the bird. It flew next to him as he balanced along the mast or hopped his way up the crow’s eye, and if he could keep it in sight, he believed he would be safe. It chirped out little songs for him, and he would pretend it was his soulmate sending him messages. Even then, he couldn’t fully believe in the idea of someone out there, born solely to love him.

Later, the bird felt more like judgment. It watched as he was left behind. It watched as he made his way into the employ of a different father. It watched the blood on his hands. It watched as he made his way back to the sea, and then back to Haven. The bird was his only witness to his gorey past, and through it all, it kept flying.

Soulmates. What a hideous thought. As if he would start letting someone tell him what to do, much less who to love. In defiance, Chase slept with anyone who caught his eye, even when, through the window, he watched the bird soar. He flirted, he dallied, and most of all, he promised himself that if he ran into his soulmate, he wouldn’t love them, if only to spit on the idea that they, a stranger, would somehow be the one for him.

Chase envied the bird sometimes, for its wings and its freedom. The swift was a bird that never stopped flying, even when it slept. Where was his soulmate going? Why did their bird always fly?

What did it matter, though? As long as he could run through the streets of Haven, unbound to anyone but himself, then that would be a type of flying, too.

iii. First Meeting

Her cat bounded along and nipped at her ankles, twining between her legs with an unusual urgency that almost had Qilan trip as she flew down the streets of Haven. Where had the wily thief gone? He had taken her medallion, and without it… if the Inquisitors were to stop her…

Her eyes darted wildly, bouncing from unfamiliar face to unfamiliar face as she sped down narrow alleys until slick cobblestoned streets gave way to the weatherbeaten wood of the wharf and the fresh seabreeze rolling off the piers. Qilan slowed, but her cat did not, and it slammed against the wooden door of one of the nearby warehouses, claws leaving deep grooves.

“What the–” She heard a nearby man say, startled out of his slouching position by the cat’s yowling.

Her cat reacting like that could only mean one thing, but there was no time to think, no time to pause: she called within her and her magic crested, rushing through her as the wooden door exploded inwards.

Both Qilan and the cat slipped in, the man– a guard, she assumed– flustered as he ran in after her.

Smoke. Charred pieces of wood. Confused shouting. A swell of panicked bodies in the aftermath of her spell.

And her cat, dashing through it all, straight at a little fluttering bird. Her cat purred, nuzzling at the bird, their forms melting into the sunlight that fell across the dusty floor.

And behind them, a man, the same insouciant thief who had taken her medallion and ran. He caught her gaze, smiled, but there was no warmth in his eyes. They assessed each other, his eyes snagging over her uniform, the unmistakable glow of the iladrin, the hilt of her dagger. In turn, she noted the ease in which he held himself, belying the tension coiling under his skin, like a predator ready to pounce.

Briefly, Qilan recalled the old Ket superstition that your soulmate was not someone you were supposed to love, but to kill, your greatest enemy.

“You blew up my hideout,” the thief said mildly.

“My apologies. You can bill it to the Shepherds,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “You stole my medallion.”

The thief tossed the medal in the air casually, a miniature sun glittering, before catching it again with the same hand, all the while never dragging his gaze from hers. Qilan almost relaxed. This, at least, was easier. Violence was a language she could understand: the kiss of cold steel, the dance of two bodies locked in battle like a lover’s embrace.

“Is it?” he asked, still languid. “Are you sure?”

The Ket thought a soulmate was someone who had seized the weakness of your soul, held it captive as a fragile animal. To protect yourself, to keep yourself safe, you had to strike first. Kill before you are killed. Hurt before you are hurt.

“Why don’t you come closer so I can check?” she said innocently, and her smile was all teeth.

As her father had taught her, strike at a vital point. Incapacitate the foe in one swift movement. First blood drawn.

iv. First Crush

Qilan doesn’t fall in love.

She knows the right distance to keep with all her flings, knows how to carefully cool the embers of burgeoning passion before they spark into something real. It’s easier to leave in the night than the morning, disentangling herself from warm limbs, as if she was never there in the first place.

That’s how she prefers it, too. Quick, easy, simple. No time for feelings to bloom, for someone to mistake her courtesy as affection.

Chase, at least, understands this the most out of any of her previous partners. Lust and passion, admiration and flirtation, but nothing more. Bodies are nothing more than bodies, in the end.

But one night, he stays.

It’s an accident. There are always lines they were careful not to cross, but people get careless, especially in the middle of warm, drowsy pillowtalk, of legs playfully entwined, of deep green eyes, catlike and grinning, even in the dark.

She trusts him, as she trusts all of her friends. But maybe she trusts him too much, because when she falls asleep in his arms, he’s still there the next morning.

Qilan doesn’t even have time to be surprised, not with the sun shining gold across his face. His face is open, vulnerable, peaceful. No schemes, no insouciant manner, no tawdry looks. It’s just Chase, not the Prince of Thieves or Captain Trinaeste.

And she smiles to herself, her hand drifting across his forehead to sweep a soft brown curl behind his ear. She could lie here forever, playing with his hair, tracing the curve of his nose with her finger. It’s when her thumb brushes across his lips, no heat, no lust, nothing but naked affection in the gesture, that Qilan freezes.

That’s when she knows she’s fucked.

And then Chase catches her wrist, sly green eyes opening, expertly flipping her hand to brush his lips across her knuckles, asking if she wants to go for another round.

And of course, she says yes, because that’s what their relationship is supposed to be. Playful lust and friendly admiration. No love. Nothing like that.

Thankfully, Qilan has always been a good liar.

v. Second Love

If anyone asks what Chase thought of Qilan, he would feed them stories about the Hero of Haven.

Tales of her exploits, her courageous deeds and boundless wit and charm, and, to wrap it up, a cheeky wink about how he knows her closely and personally. That’s enough to satisfy most people, if not scandalize the rest. That’s what people want to hear, anyways, about myths and legends and people larger than life.

He’s always been one to keep his card to his chest, so no one has yet to figure out that he only talks about Captain Sun, the Hero of Haven, instead of Qilan.

They have a good relationship, and it’s nothing other people need to know about or even understand. He tucks away the memories of her hair, a pink sunset around her head on his pillow, and the way she whispers his name when she has a particularly juicy story to share, and how her eyes light up when she makes some ridiculously complicated academic breakthrough he can barely understand. No, those memories, more precious than the jewels he steals, aren’t meant for other people to know. The people can have the Hero of Haven, but Qilan is his. She’s his friend, the partner he likes to sleep with when they both want to blow off steam. Both of them are good about never spending the night. There’s no fuss, no late-night neediness.

But one night, she stays.

He only intends to rest his eyes a bit, to wait until Qilan had slipped into slumber before jumping out her window. Maybe he’d pretend to doze as she slips off, her steps vanishing down the hallway. But when he next opens his eyes, it’s dawn, and it’s too late for anything but regrets.

She stirs, and he stills as she runs a hand through his hair, traces the planes of his face. This is dangerous, and Chase catches her wrist, her thumb burning on his lips like a confession. He feigns innocence, asks for another round, and she agrees, easily slipping into their familiar routine.

He’s royally fucked, though he can’t admit it yet, not when there’s a chance to escape.

Chase doesn’t fall for people. They fall for him, and he leaves behind a trail of stolen hearts and spurned lovers. It’s dangerous to fall, with no guarantee of safety, no backup plan, no shelter in sight. Because he doesn’t make mistakes like falling in love, not anymore.

If he keeps telling himself it’s not love, then one day, he might be able to believe it.

#liya writes #liya’s ocs #shepherds of haven #interactive fiction #chase trinaeste #qilan sun #It's a bit different from my usual work but... shoh chokehold real. making you guys look at my girl!!!!#so... what if you were an emotionally repressed Mage who liked sleeping around #And i was an emotionally repressed thief who liked sleeping around #and we were FWB who accidentally fell in love and neither of us expected/wanted that to happen so now we're both malding #and then we kissed instead of talking about our feelings. haha jk. unless...? :blush:

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