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#without any promise of longevity

gardenerian · 10 months

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When do you think Mickey and Ian officially fell in love with each other?

oh! okay 🥺😭 i think it's right around s3b. prior to that, they were certainly smitten.... fascinated by each other and just starting to let themselves hope, maybe? but i think 3x05/3x06 is where it tips into the point of no return.

i think...? they were more willing to be ships in the night before this, to let themselves be blinking lights in each other's worlds. wanting more, maybe, but they made do with what they could get from moment to moment. as we move into the latter half of s3, though.... the emotional stakes are so much higher. i think that's where they both understand what it really is to lose each other. they can see what they are being robbed of. and! it! sucks! for me, that's where it becomes unstoppable. what do you think?

#like even as they both pine in s1/s2 #i think they are just taking what they can get #without any promise of longevity #but by the time 3b rolls around #they realize what they are losing i guess #and it IS that longevity they didn't know they had #or could have??? idk #it's PAINFUL #mel answers

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vivmaek · 3 months

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Synastry placements which indicate fated connection/ a connection or that person is meant to be in your life

Indications of a Fated Relationship

ʚɞ Sun Trine / Conjunct North Node ʚɞ This aspect creates an immediate connection and an instant sense of familiarity. Both parties might feel that this is destiny before the first date even begins. The Sun person will feel like the best version of themself around the North Node person. The Sun person also triggers growth in the North Node person. It is likely that a familial bond was shared in a past life.

ʚɞ Pluto Conjunct Mars ʚɞ The attraction present between both parties is intense. It's an aspect that forces confrontation upon your deepest desires and your greatest pains. Many intense experiences will be shared together. Both people can pick up on the hidden intentions and motives of one another. This may turn into an all-consuming relationship, one that leaves you without any energy left to give.

ʚɞ Sun Conjunct Saturn ʚɞ The Saturn person has karma to work through and must turn to the Sun person to find guidance. Any changes the Saturn person experiences are due to the influence of the Sun person. A sense of maturity is present from the start, both people feel as though they could settle down together. They can depend upon one another, but Saturn might feel threatened if the Sun person begins to grow without them.

ʚɞ Moon Conjunct Saturn ʚɞ The couple feels a deep responsibility towards one another which acts as the glue that holds their bond together. Oftentimes the Moon person must work through their co-dependency issues. The Saturn person is reliable even if they have to learn how to be more open towards the emotions of the Moon person.

ʚɞ Venus Conjunct Saturn ʚɞ Both parties might feel hesitant to enter into a partnership despite the powerful attraction that exists between them. The couple takes this relationship seriously and they exhibit caution for the sake of longevity. Guilt from their experiences in a past life might bubble up in this relationship. The Saturn person feels that the Venus person “owes” them something. The Venus person feels indebted to their partner and will probably be the first to make promises in the relationship.

ʚɞ Saturn Conjunct South Node ʚɞ This relationship requires a lot of work, and it will be impossible to avoid one another until this is dealt with. You may run into each other many times before a connection is formed. The South Node person will grow tremendously under the influence of the Saturn person.

ʚɞ Uranus Conjunct Venus ʚɞ This is a “love at first sight” aspect. You may meet one another in a sudden or unexpected manner, and unexpected events will continue to take place over the course of the relationship. Both parties feel fascinated by one another and an invigorating electric spark exists between the two. Neither one is afraid to showcase their weird personality traits or interests.

ʚɞ North Node / North Node ʚɞ This is an incredibly strong karmic tie. An immediate pull that goes beyond physical attraction was felt right away. It is as if their souls have been yearning for one another for many long years. The destinies of both individuals are in alignment, they were fated to be together. Both people will face and have faced similar spiritual lessons, this brings them closer together. The couple shares a similar vision for the future.

ʚɞ South Node / Personal Planets ʚɞ A deep sense of familiarity and constant deja vu occurs with these aspects. The relationship picks up where it left off in a past life.

ʚɞ North Node in 1st House ʚɞ The North Node person teaches the first house person how to be true to themselves and live authentically. The first house person's identity is strengthened through this relationship. It is likely that both people got along right away, they find it easy to be in one another's presence. Connecting on a deep level is an effortless process and respecting boundaries is never an issue. Nothing about this relationship feels forced. Both parties feel as though they were fated to meet one another.

ʚɞ North Node in 7th House ʚɞ A magnetic pull brought this couple together, they feel compelled to be together. The North Node person is especially attracted to the house person, they see their future with them. Their relationship came into existence to learn about partnership because this is something they have yet to master together. This can present challenges and it is easy to fall back on patterns exhibited through the South Node. Finding a balance between the needs of one another is key here.

ʚɞ North Node in 8th House ʚɞ This is an unforgettable relationship that awakens deep emotions. The North Node person will trigger extreme change within the house person's life. It may feel as though your souls have merged together. An incredibly intimate bond that looks at all your vulnerabilities through a magnifying glass. Dark and disturbing secrets, desires, or feelings will come forward so they can be worked through. Both partners understand each other on a level that compares to no one else.

✰ my masterlist

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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Can you maybe do a Wednesday and Enid x reader (platonic or romantic) where basically the reader comes from a very rich family and likes to spoil Wednesday and Enid.

(I hope this makes sense)

Is this what you wanted? Idk but I thought a headcannon format would be more sufficient for this but again idk. You tell me.

You spare no expenses when it came to Wednesday and Enid. You never bothered to try in fact because it didn’t really matter, as the money spent would eventually find itself back into your parents bank account anyways so why should you fret about accidentally crossing certain thresholds?

So when Wednesday’s typewriter starts having complications, hindering her writing time, you assured her that you would be able to get it fixed by the best people there was in fixing things. However it turns out that the typewriter was irreparably damaged and you had to buy Wednesday a new one that was personalised to be coated in a matte black colour and you even had her initials engraved on the front of it in gold cursive.

Wednesday may not have looked visibly thrilled at the new typewriter but her bland words of “I’m so ecstatic that my face can not comprehend how to convey it.” Were all you needed to know that she did in fact liked her new typewriter and began working on her book as though nothing ever happened. The next day you found a dead bird in front of your dorm, this was Wednesday’s way of saying ‘thank you.’

You even went out of your way to find enid a new part for her laptop when she complains to you that she couldn’t get anything do without it. So once again you went off to find the best shops available in Jericho that could help you in finding what you needed. Unfortunately due to it being the city of Jericho there weren’t a single good shop in sight that even had the part you needed in stock nor even in the back with the rest of the recent deliveries.

Typical.

With that you resorted to plan b and reached out online to shops elsewhere and ordered it for a next day delivery as to save yourself and enid the agonising waiting game. You even got her some other parts should this happen again but all of them were expensive and of state of the art manufacturing with the added promise of longevity and efficiency.

Enid was gobsmacked when she learnt that you did this all for her. “How can I pay you back for doing this for me?” She would ask but all you told her was that you didn’t need to be paid back for as long as she was happy and that the part was doing it’s job smoothly without any hitches, then that’s all the payment you desired.

This didn’t stop at fixing and or replacing their broken stuff but it also extended to their birthdays where you got enid more squishmellows for her growing pile, top of the range designer clothing that you’d knew she would look stunning in, new sets of nail polish, moisturisers, makeup and some new fairy lights should her current ones light their final night.

For Wednesday it was a little more trickier as she hated her birthday being celebrated in the traditional sense that you and enid were brought up with and instead you bought her an actual guillotine that she had set up next to her cello outside on the balcony of Ophelia Hall, dissection kits, things to keep her cello in top condition, some dark flowers that didn’t require much caring for, pacidermy animals much to Enid’s dismay as Wednesday would always seemingly have them face her whenever she said something that Wednesday wasn’t particularly fond of.

When Wednesday and enid try to repay you on your generosity, enid worries that due to your upbringing, you would be expecting diamonds, gold and the such thrown at your feet but Wednesday told her that she was exaggerating and that yes, you were born into an extremely wealthy family but the addams noted that you have a preference for the smaller things. So out they went to Jericho and chose a couple of things that they thought you’d might like.

Enid got you some cute toys that she though would add to your dorm along with getting you a matching snood with her and Wednesday that you could all wear to class together. Wednesday got you a necklace with a dead crow with a black Dalia sprouting from it’s heart with some of it’s crystal feathers dotted here and there up the silver chain as to give off the impression that this crow was shot out of the sky. She also got you some uncouth stuff like a hand mace or an taser for self defence for when people who couldn’t get the hint.

She wouldn’t admit it but even Wednesday was a little nervous that you might not like what they got you. However she didn’t have to continue putting belief into that thought as your eyes light up at each and everything that she and Enid got you that by the end of it you looked to both of them with the widest grin they’ve ever seen. “Thank you both so much! I love everything you’ve given me! Nobody’s given me things that I actually like!”

“What do you mean by that y/n?” Enid asks, confused.

“My parents think that splashing their money on expensive stuff for me is what I want but it’s not, I could care less about having the state of the art phone, tv, clothes, none of that matters to me but it seems that to them, that’s all that matters is to not only be rich but look rich too…so when they started putting large sums of money into my bank account, I spent it on the things that I want, on the clothes that I felt good in rather then what they think I’d look good in for their reputation. So I thank you both for these,” you told them as you squeezed one of the plushies Enid bought you close to your chest, “I love them a lot.”

“Even the taser?” Enid asked as Wednesday stared at her

You chuckled, “yes, even the taser. After all you can never be too sure when a creep is nearby.” You looked to Wednesday who’s lips almost uplifted into a proper smile but came back down into it’s neutral state just seconds later.

#Wednesday imagines #Wednesday imagine #Wednesday x you #Wednesday x reader #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fic #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday Addams x reader #enid sinclair fic #enid sinclair x you #enid sinclair fanfic #enid sinclair imagine #enid sinclair x reader #Enid sinclair imagines

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shinjisdone · 1 month

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𝒯𝒾𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro

capitolo cinque

capitolo sei

capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

capitolo nove

capitolo dieci: is here

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag list:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1, @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites , @wonderlace19

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationships

[TW for this one specifically include: puppets, puppet limbs, moving and talking doll, uneasy behavior, dubious intentions, burnout, exhaustion, slight depression, grief, crying, uncomfortable tension, creepy behaviour, slight disassociation from Geppetto's part, coercion (to force you to have something you do not want + face something emotionally and physically), mentions of liquids (oil and adhesives), reader is having something akin to a panic attack (panting, slipping, and swallowing down vomit)]

The rattling echoed in the hallway with one cable slipping out of the cage and falling on the floor. Its head dragged along with an hesitant motion as more was taken. Finally, the metal plate was given a gentle push and it closed before the chest was carefully forced back into the cabinet.

"I'm...sorry," You tried to smile but it hardly beared any kind of regret, "I'll return it once I'm done, I promise. I can fix you up in no time, after all. I've long achieved the title of expert in this regard. I think." Your smile was met with artificial ones as the puppet butlers remained motionless, hunched close together in the tight furniture. The previous clothes had to be removed for them to fit in. You gently closed the door without looking back.

Quickly going upstairs, you put the box on your worktable and let the tangled wires hang from the edges. Sorting everytging out will be tedious but what got your attention right now, was the small, golden cube. The core looked just as intact as it did months ago, reminding you of its longevity the Workshop Union promised when first introducing it and when Uncle first showed you the object. The mere thought of puppets being able to talk made your heart jump out of your chest and you could only believe it when hearing it for yourself. Many were put off by the prototype's rough voice but you were only mesmerized.

Aurorie sat next to the project, eagerly awaiting your hand as you took her small one and rose her up to her feet. With a slight hitch, the material bent briefly before the limps stayed fastened and she stood firm on her legs. You observed for a while, smiling with a big sigh as she stayed still and began connecting the cables. Even as you opened up her back and rummagered near her neck, the doll did not falter, which only made you smile more. Putting the box near and adjusting the microphone, you let Aurorie avidly waiting.

She stood tall as she stared into your eyes as you took a deep breath.

"Would you like to dance?"

Half a minute passes as you held your breath not have it fawn over the microphone. Staring at the box, the golden frames glowed lightly in the dim room. However Uncle managed to create such seemingly beyond this realm was still a mystery to you.

"...Would you like to dance?"

Your voice was mimicked much higher, resembling that of a bell, just like you wanted it. Though your hesitation was also carried over and so you gave it another shot.

"I'm awfully sorry...I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's just that we've met once before. Once upon a dream."

Inhaling deeply, you lifted her arm and held onto her small palm. Gingerly you slowly pulled her towards the right. Her body would first lean to it, before, surely, one foot after another followed suit. Her steps were small but graceful, giving the illusion of her walking all on her own - or rather dancing as she followed your lead.

"...I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream..."

Even as she danced to the rythm you gave her, the voice echoed back fluently. High-pitched and fitting for a doll her size, high enough to not have it be recognizable as your voice.

"...That glint in your eyes is so familiar, a gleam..."

Cracking a wide grin you carefully got up from your stool and daringly dragged her across the entire table as she danced towards each direction you pulled her. Hooking another finger around her other palm, you'd lightly hold her up as her legs would cross like a ballerina.

"And I know it's true that visions are seldom, all they seem...but if I know you, I'll know what you do..."

You held out a hand near her waist to stop any fall but Aurorie twirled lovingly as you turned her, bringing up one leg just like you programmed. It was meticulously soft but each movement, no matter how slow, made your heart swell. You made this. You made your dearest friend dance and sing just you always did with her, for her and now can do so together.

She is a singing, dancing doll that you made with your own hands.

"You'll love me at once, the way you did once, upon a dream!"

For the finale, you slightly pressed your finger against the back of her head and she bowed.

The rain did everythig in its might to squash him down.

Alas, it was more like an annoying fly in his ear. Rain was nothing compared to that man and his company, alongside his loyal companions who believe themselves to be divine. Having reached the door, the prattling from the sky above seemed to become louder.

Ergo, was it?

'I know what you're thinking. Trust me when I say time is scarce and you should know better than anyone else. We are creating perfection and cannot afford to hold it back any longer for your little projects.'

It fell from the sky, did it?

'You were the one who came to me and I have done my part and more. Be a dear and fulfill your part of the contract, Guiseppe. Hurry up and get rid of anyone not trustworthy. The puppets will do the rest.'

Did it not need more? Love? A father?

The only one fullfilling him with anything was waiting like a good child. Everyone else seemed so disappointing.

'You don't need anyone else anyway, no?'

His voice echoed in the back of his head as he pushed the door open and it left him dazed; Not knowing if he was still calling out to him as a means to motivate him further, push him further into madness - fear and mockery are great motivaters - or if he is just going senile.

Geppetto cannot afford any more years to waste. He's not the youngest anymore but he needs to be to welcome him back.

Like a mantle the drenched clothes weighed him down and he could not help but let out a groan. He slid off his cloak and let the rest fall onto the floor, his long strides taking him to his office. It was routine by now.

Eyes darted around the hallway he passed but barely took in any information he he sees. The mess in the kitchen and remaining food, the disarray of chairs and the cabinet not entirely closed. The only thing that made him blink and sharpen his vision was the constant knocking at his office door. Your clothes, sloppily worn as well as untidy your untidy hair faced him and he inadvertantly had to stop in his tracks. For a moment he realized that you had turned around as well to face him.

"...(Name)?"

You said nothing and continued to stare at him with that surprised look. You looked as unruly as you did from behind. The only things kept in neat order the bandages around your hand, which seem to have become thinner - how long would you were it and did you even need them anymore - and your loyal doll.

His visage softened at the sight of it, though he delfated right after.

"Oh...you weren't home."

"What do you need, dear? I'm afraid I'm awfully busy."

"I thought so...I, uhm, just wanted to check up on you. We haven't talked in long."

"And I don't know if we can." Geppetto passed by you and opened his office's door. You quickly followed after him. "I'm still as busy as ever. Just tell me what you need." Closing the door, you watched Geppetto sit down with a heavy sigh. He wiped his face, then his eyes as they seemed as tired as yours. Wordlessly, he turned in his chair to you. The expression on his face could only be described as drooping. Awaiting for the night to draw closer so he can finally close his eyes.

Rushing over to the other side of the desk, you placed Aurorie on top of it, facing your uncle. He sat with an empty look, staring down at your doll. With an avoidant gaze you held onto both of her hands.

"...It's nothing much if you are so tired, Uncle." "No," he sighed, "show me while you are already here." Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you gingerly lifted her up by her palms. In an moment, she stood on her feet and Geppetto briefly raised a brow. Clearing your throat, you tapped her head.

"What's the meaning behind this-"

"Hello, Mr Geppetto!"

Geppetto halted and blinked. With a deep inhale, he sat up straighter.

It talked. It was a recording of your voice, he could tell, no matter how high-pitched it sounded. Nevertheless, you never had any puppet talk in script before and even if it wasn't its own consciousness, it left him surprised.

After all, it didn't have any Ergo.

"I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

It stretched a hand out.

"But I am just a doll. I like to sing and dance. Would you like to dance?"

Your finger found its outstretched palm and lead it back to you. She took long but careful steps. You glimpsed back at him, watching him raise a brow. Carefully, he slowly let out.

"...Yes. I'd like to see what you can do."

"Yes!" It answered much more solemnly than the man and began raising one foot. Gingerly, you began to guide her in a circle. Her legs would go up and down as her head never turned away from Geppetto. The voice box reacted a moment later.

"When you wish upon a star..."

It was this song. Quickly you let her dance in a slower pace and with much more vigor.

Geppetto's eyes widened at the familiar melody.

"Makes no difference who you are..."

HIs brown eyes trailed after the movements that replicated those of a waltz, he reckoned. One-sided and of an lone dancer though it tried its best to make up for an lacking partner by using his entire desk as its stage.

"Anything your heart desires..."

The shoes tapped on the wood in rythm. By the time the refrain was reached, he hunched lower, forward, staring with a keen eye as its moves became almost life-like, as if these giant human hands guiding it are just for show itself. The singing voice was as clear as a bell and its head would turn with the body. The two parts have seperate screws. The voice box hidden and placed somehow between the crinoline and the dress. The most eye-catching thing out of all for the man were the light limbs that must been taking apart, added joints - so tiny that he did not possess any so small so what did you built in there - and reconstructed it entirely to its original shape visually for it to move so naturally.

His hand went from his chin to the doll. Worldlessly he opened his palms and neared them to its hands - you halted for a moment, staring at him. Hesitating, you let Aurorie tap towards him and he took the lead.

"...Will come to you."

Geppetto fully let the doll have his attention as he mimicked your moves. Just like before it danced over the desk, twirled and bowed, left to right and back and forth, just as he wanted it to. A fine display of a doll obeying the puppeteer.

Then, he let one hand go. Like a dog on a leash, Aurorie is dragged by one finger to one direction to the next. His hold lingered only for a second, before he snapped his finger away and it was left with no puppetteer to guide it.

It stumbled but with a thud Aurorie landed on one foot, the other bend behind it. The upper body leaned forward.

If a puppet was pushed, you could make it regain its balance.

"If your heart is in your dream..."

His hand swept from the left and took it back on stage as he pushed and pushed and pushed it further back. It backed off with small but secure enough steps before it retained its posture, straight as a candle.

If a puppet was hit by a force, it could recover.

"...No request is too extreme..."

Hand in a claw, he dragged it forward before stopping it a second later with a flat palm. Aurorie did while swinging slightly in its spot. Once the limbs stayed still, the voice box finished the last verse before ceasing as well. Like a mountain, it stood tall on his desk, staring into nothing.

You glimpsed between it and Geppetto.

And you could make the limbs move, give an arm autonomy.

Folding his hands, he had his chin rest on them once again as he eyed Aurorie for a few, silent seconds before parting his lips ever so slightly.

"Sing, doll."

The silence continued on. Ever so quiet ticking could be heard within its body and only a moment later was a high "Yes!" let out. The ticks returned briefly before the voice box echoed from the dress.

"...Little wooden head go play your part, bring a little joy to every heart,"

The old man observed it without interruption. It stood still and away from the two of you, creepily even but the voice singing was smooth and assured. Its face might not be able to move, the rosy lips not parting to let out a melody, the eyes set firm like stone but nothing seemed awry to Geppetto as he heard the jolly song.

"Little do you know and yet it's true,"

Finally, he blinked his tired eyes and slowly rose them to you.

"That I'm mighty proud of you!"

"Uncle?" You spoke in between the mirthful verses with your own worried and shaking voice. You stared wide and pale into his narrowed, strait ones. He kept on staring.

Quickly, however, like a sudden draught, he took a deep breath and wiped his nose. "Sorry, my dear," Geppetto cleared his throat and had his wide eyes focus on you, "You caught me zoning out. Today was mighty exhausting, but..." Once again his gaze fell on the doll. It stayed there for a a good few seconds before he began speaking in a sober voice. "...this is a big change now. Something different."

"Oh..." You hesitate, eyes darting around the room briefly before lookng back at him with an hesitant smile. Your voice was quieter than his. "Do - do you like it?"

A finger flicked the doll's locks, gaze glued on it.

"I do."

Your chuckle was as dry as his answer.

"That's great, great. I...wanted to have something to cheer me up a bit," Looking down you fiddled with the bandages on your hand, "I thought maybe it'd make you smile, too."

"Why did you want to make this out of all things?"

Your eyes locked with his crinkled ones, brown seeming to be an endless spiral that you couldn't quite decipher. Again, you glimpsed about before answering. "...I don't know. I saw that at the festival about a month ago and I loved it - but the day turned horrible and," A soft sigh escaped you, "I just, didn't want that to be. I wanted to have fun that day but I ruined it for myself." Looking back, Geppetto could clearly make out your deep frown through his failing vision, an frown so big he had not seen it in years.

"...It's sweet that you dedicate so much of your time for something as droll as a dancing, singing doll."

At that you could not fight the cracking grin. Folding your hands behind your back, you shyly looked away.

"Well...of course. I love her."

Brown eyes, strait and narrowed, opened up like an old door, a secret so well hidden and unknown to the rest of humanity, to the rest of these arrogant bastards, as his eyes widened like that of an child - told of an tale that only he could understand.

The man's head rose as he took in on all that you were, your features so familiar and clear as the first time he held your crying form in his arms, watched as he realized that you, too, could partake in this secret and understand it as well.

"You love her?"

You smiled bashfully once more with an firm nod. "Of course."

"...And you made all this by just observing the perfomance of these other puppets?"

"Ah, yes, well...I suppose. I did some more research though, I didn't just etch that all in my mind."

A short sigh escaped Geppetto as he leaned back in his chair. He hesitated for a bit, a mere moment as he pondered, before slowly getting up. Standing in front of you, the man was unsure on how to approach yet one thing was clear. Folding his hands behind his back as well, he took a deep breath.

"Puppets need love to be created. And love is formed by an genuine wish, my dear."

A brow was raised at his sudden claim. Wit perked ears you listened as he stood there, seemingly staring through you.

"Something as beautiful and heartfelt like puppets can only be created by love. Anything else or below that just makes them tools."

Carefully, he rested his hand on your shoulder and slowly but surely gained the confidence to tighten his grasp. "But we puppet makers do not fall so low. We don't bury ourselves in work just to make some helpful tools, we create things because we desire to! We do the things we do because we love them." Staring back you noted the glint in his dark eyes that do not reach his smile. Another moment of silence filled the room, one where you could not find any words to reply to his sudden but mellow vigor but your uncle was quick to draw back and reach for his desk. "Can I show you something? No, I want to." He opened a drawer before cautiously taking out a piece of paper. Dusting it off, his lips tucked wider. Swiftly, he offered it to you.

With hesitant hands you took it.

A crayon painting of Aurorie.

Your eyes darted around the long, curly locks of hair that waved about in an ridiculous manner. The bright baby blue that was all over the place, as well as the giant tiara sitting on top of her head. Kind eyes and a red smile.

Bandaged fingers carressed the bottom of the paper.

'For my annoying cousin, (Name).'

Your heart dropped.

"This, too, was created out of love."

The ticking of the grandfather clock seemed as light as a bird's dying chrip. The room drowned out. The carpet under your feet nothing but a blotch of red and the smell of the mahogany table so sickening you held your breath. All you could focus on was the crude drawing of your beloved doll and how starkly similiar it looked to the real deal despite the childish doodling and exaggeratedness. The hair, dress, tiara, and smile were all meant for you. The signature had wild scribbles around the word 'annoying' as if he really wanted to hide it even as he failed to.

'For my annoying cousin, (Name).'

Did he really dislike you that much?

Did he really love you that much?

"...When did...he make this?" Discreetly you gasped for air, a mere moment to even find your voice even as your heart spoke before your brain could stop it. "...After your fight when you left back home in the holidays. I brought the doll to you the next time we visited your father."

Gepetto spoke so calmly but none of his words were any news to you. Of course, you thought, you recalled the joy clearly when you held her in your arms for the first time. You knew how old the two of you were but not once did he cross your mind when you got her - and played with her every day after that. The thought of him doing something like that for you, however, made your heart stop. Taking a deep breath you swallowed the lump in your throat. No miracle in the world could conjure a smile on your face - all you could offer was a crooked grin to your uncle.

"It's beautiful." Facial muscles ached and the crack in your voice made you look nothing but a sham but you meant it, you did, and you hoped desperately with an aching chest that Geppetto would see it too. Let the only other man who knew him understand you as well. He, in turn, arched a brow and glimpsed between your face and the drawing you held.

"Do you love it?"

"I do." Another crack followed by a sniffle and the man was quick to come closer and grab your shoulder. "I know. I know you do now. Don't cry, dear. Don't cry. It wouldn't suit you." Wiping your nose, you blinked like a maniac to surpress the tears. The lump in your throat got bigger as your chest was trying to suck you in whole again, a deep sinkhole caving in as if nothing could sate its selfish hunger. It felt more upsetting to have Uncle see through you so easily like glass. All your emotions out on display like a tray of food and out of all people, he was the one feasting on them. Looking over the variety that he could freely choose from.

Instead, he took a step back and watched you stiffle your sobs with a drab expression. "It's alright, dear. You can keep it if you like. It was meant as a reference sheet for me but I believe it was ulltimately made for you."

With a deep breath, you shakily let it out. Clearing your throat you looked at him, misty-eyed. Everything felt like it was crushing you down, including him. "Are you sure?" You sounded like a wounded bird and hated it. He offered a friendlier smile and nodded. "Of course."

Nodding yourself, you drew the paper closer to you. However should a precious treasure like this be kept, you wondered. Crushed as you were, you were unsure if you could fold it properly to keep it, or have it preserved somewhere safe - in an treasure chest itself and nothing less appropiate.

You were not sure if you even wanted to keep it.

Still, words needed to be forced out, "Thank you, Uncle Geppetto." You sniffled again and dared not to look at him - unaware of how he stared down at you for moments that felt like an eternity. The taste of your snot was awful and salty, the paper between your fingers so thin but sharp, either destined to fall to the ground or cut you and spill more blood. The ticking of the clock something you did not hesitate to despise. Everything seemed so wrong and disgusting. With enough bravery and integrity, you peeked from beneath your tears to his hollow gaze. You've never seen his eyes swirl in such darkness.

You prepared yourself to speak but Geppetto was faster as he hastily drew his breath. "I knew that you would understand. Only puppet makers can understand other puppet makers. Thank you for that, my dearest niece." He paused as he mulled over his next words, "...You don't have anything else to do, do you? Of course not, you've got to rest your hand."

Before you could interrupt, he gestured towards his office door with the one hand and fished out a key from his breast pocket with the other.

"There's something else I'd like to show you. Perhaps you could help me."

How one earth could footsteps sound so dismal?

A place lit by lamps so dark?

The hallway you raced over and over and over again lose all meaning and familiarity, like falling out of love and being presented with a stranger?

Your shoes thumped against the carpet one step after the next. You focused on keeping the rythm in tact, your good hand cradling Aurorie while your bandaged one grasped the crayon drawing. Uncle's gray coat always in front of you with great distance. This walk felt like an eternity as well as you wanted nothing more but for it to be over. To close your eyes and be back in your room as if nothing had happened.

"...That song you taught the doll..." Barely you could lift your head up to Geppetto musing. As long as you could hear him, you'd be fine continuing to stare at the floor. "...You two often sang it." Your eyes flickered up to his head slightly turned to your direction but not fully seeing you. Meekly you nodded. "Mhm. It was from that book..."

"A book?"

"...Yes. The adventures of that boy that lied...it had pages with just the song written all over it, it had a fairy that made wishes come true all in blue and, yeah," You nodded along even though he did not see it, "...It was sweet...and good."

The click of the key made you halt like a train. It took a good moment for the door to creak open with your uncle's figure blocking your view. It hit the wall with a thump, startling you and leaving you wondering if the door always was made out of such heavy material in the past. Lighting a lamp, the man gestured towards the darkness below before promptly going down. With a deep breath you pressed your doll closer to you, crinkling the drawing in your hand and gingerly followed.

The creaking your steps would leave was heavier than that of the door, old wood soon replaced by metal that thumped harrowlingly. The air felt stiffer and colder and the room seemed to broaden the deeper you marched down, though that was only a guess. A gut feeling as your uncle was still the only light you could count on.

"Carlo really loved you, you know?"

Geppetto's words left a shiver running down your spine.

"He'd always ask when you'd come back. When the next holidays might be and if you and your family would visit Krat so he could show you more and more. More of what I made."

A long and echoing chuckle escaped him. The thumping continued.

"'How many more sleeps until (Name) comes back?'"

Goosebumps over your arms as the cold sunk deep into your bones.

"He just had a hard time showing it. Carlo is an emotional boy and you know how they get when they grow."

The thumping stopped. You almost bumped into him if he had not swiftly went around the corner and turned on the light. Squinting your eyes at the blinding sight, you were met red and white. A fine, slim, green carpet starting from the staircase and rolled towards the end of the room. Working tables at each side of the walls shaped to a circle with all kinds of tools, parts, material, liquids, adhesives and puppet limbs on them. Lamps symmetrically facing each other on the walls with a few loveseats and wardrobes and small furniture scattered in the basement. Assembly instructions were pinned on a few tables. It smelled of oil and you jumped back when you stepped on documents soaked in some other liquid.

Shrinking, you pressed your belongings further into you. "Uncle...what do you want to show me here? What could I possibly help with?" You tried to laugh but it was squashed by the sound puppet limbs slipping off a table. The porcelain white material was oozing out adhesives.

Hastily you hurried after your uncle. Your shaking feet stumbled as they tried to catch up with his long, calm gait. A red grand drape from the left ot the right covered the end of the room with a bright light peeking from the ground. You eyed it skeptically as your uncle abruptly reached for a switch on the left and the drapes slowly opened. The lamp hanging from the ceiling was the brightest and shown down on the red loveseat like in a play, letting the world know of the star of its show - an otherworldliness that would change a mortal's life for the rest of time.

The lump in your throat turned into bile that rose to your mouth as your uncle stood to the side, the show's light casting a shadow that reached the basement's dark corners. You kept on swallowing it down, down, down, blinking away the tears as your hands reached for something, anything - coming into a contact to the edge of an table to the far right and grasping it with all your might. Wide, burning eyes darted between the dark silhouette and the star sitting oh so peacefully on the loveseat. Shining vibrantly under the light as if it were an angelic being, even with the simple and plain blouse and trousers it adorned. The room spinned and the quietness was the noose cutting your neck from your head, your mind.

"What is that?" You licked your lips as you gasped for air. The older man still took his time to speak. "This," He began nice and slow, almost in an trance when blinded by the star itself, "This is the most special thing I have created yet. Something that will change our world." He reached for the headrest, his fingers grazing the locks, and pushed it further down to have its peaceful face drink in the light, causing you to shoot up your hand to your mouth to swallow down your gall.

"He's not complete yet. There are so many things to consider, so many things to do to make him perfect. He needs to be." Finally, he turned to you, his face obscured by shadows. Your uncle offered you his hand. "Come, take a closer look at this miracle."

The weight you shifted onto the table made you slip curtly before you could quickly get on wobbly feet. With shaking arms you squeezed your doll and drawing to you and walked with a hunched back, agape mouth and slow steps that will be the death of you. Seeing this thing any more closer would be your death. The sight of these featherly light lids closed as if resting in a tranquil slumber made your eyes burn and heave for air that did not reek of oil and dust. The bushy, black eyebrows free from all worries and not arched down when lookng at you. Seeing the short, and unkempt locks of hair kept exactly as he did as a youngster, dark and thick as the midnight sky, that would often fall over his crinkled eyes, and ever so gently weave with every pant you took had you cover your mouth and eyes for moment. You needed a moment - please, please, - to not go mad and fall down on this thing's feet. Gingerly opening one eye, as if one look at it would curse you, your watery gaze travelled up and down its face. There was a clear bone structure to be seen around the jaw and cheek bones. You feared it might be felt too for how real it seemed, how the shadows were cast on the rest of its neck, that did not pulse, and the white, flawless blouse lovingly placed on its figure. The lips were full and pink with something that could not be paint - you swore it on your life - and neither could the perfect, glass skin be. A familiar teint that almost made you urge to reach out and touch it.

The nose was a perfect shape, littered with heavy and dark freckles that began from the chin and travelled up to the even forehead. They congegrated the most across the cheeks, like stars in the sky that created a constellation. A few small, lone stars were near and on its lips.

Carlo didn't have any freckles.

"Uncle, what is that?" Your voice cracked as you stifled a sob. The man in turn, only strode to the thing's side. One hand on the head rest and the other on the arm rest. He was careful not to touch it. "A miracle, I've told you. He is special and he needs to be completed." His voice was laced in something you wished to forget. The times where he chastised you, when he stared at you with such disappointment, when he completely looked down on your injured hand that his puppet caused. "He barely knows the outside world. The legion arm keeps falling out of his socket and the lad doesn't know how to talk and walk." Instinctively, you snapped your head to the metal arm to the right, fastened by belts on the upper arm to keep it from falling. It was thicker than the other limbs, littered with golden joints and much more advanced than any other puppet part you have ever seen.

With fear in your wide eyes, you looked back to Geppetto.

He looked back with an small and expectant gaze. In his hand, an opened box with a golden clump in it, the thick cables hanging from the edges. A clock was installed, ticking away.

"Something as special as him needs love to blossom into what he needs to become. He needs you, (Name)."

𝐸𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝟷; 𝑆𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟

#yandere lies of p #Lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio #yandere pinocchio #Pinocchio #Lies of p pinocchio x reader #Pinocchio x reader #P x reader #Yandere #my writing #my fanfiction #ticking springs

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snowmist-hashira · 8 months

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Idk if anyone has asked this yet but since Muichiro likes to do origami can you do short fic where reader learns to make origami flowers for him as a gift and muichiro really likes it and asks her to teach him how to make them?

Smth like these^ you dont have to ofc! I just think it’s super cute:)

[Chapter title: Hearts in Origami]

[Requested] Muichiro Tokitou x Reader

Wattpad:(One shots) Tokito Twins x Reader Archive:Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Twins x Reader Details: ♠ Information ♠ Master list: ♠ Muichirou Tokitou ♠ Word count: 758

Artist: Mos [Mosskmt]

Link: Twitter

I'd like to extend my apologies because I'm feeling a bit drained and unable to fulfill any requests at the moment. However, I plan to still stick to my schedule and aim to fulfill at least one request per week. Tags: @aeolia18 / @demonslayeranimex / @thornrosekaori / @xaeoism / @cascadingleaves / @mistymxxn / @unofficialmuilover / @sakurasunkiss / @yuichiroleftarm (Scheduled)

Y/n, always practical and conscious of spending, sat at her desk one sunny afternoon, pondering over the idea of gifting Muichiro something special. She knew he loved origami, and she wanted to show her affection in a way that resonated with his interests.

She stared at the vibrant blossoms blooming in her neighbor's garden through the window, she couldn't help but think about the ephemeral nature of flowers. They were undeniably beautiful and a quintessential symbol of love and romance, but Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that they were a fleeting luxury. She believed in making investments that lasted, that could be cherished for years to come.

Still, she understood the sentimental value behind giving and receiving flowers. There was something undeniably romantic about a bouquet, the way it spoke volumes without a single word. But Y/n was determined to find a compromise that aligned with her practical nature.

With a soft smile, she remembered Muichiro's passion for origami. He was an artist when it came to folding paper into intricate shapes and patterns. That's when inspiration struck. She decided that instead of buying a traditional bouquet, she would create one herself out of colorful paper.

Y/n was determined to create a meaningful and lasting gift for Muichiro. She spent hours watching online tutorials and practicing her paper-folding skills, slowly but surely improving her origami techniques.

Y/n carefully selected a variety of vibrant, high-quality origami paper. Each sheet held the promise of turning into a beautiful flower. She set up her workspace, folding and shaping each piece of paper with precision and care.

As she continued to fold and shape the paper, her thoughts were filled with the joy she imagined Muichiro would feel when he received her handmade bouquet.

The bouquet slowly took shape, with delicate paper roses, lilies, and daisies blooming before her. Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her creation, knowing that every fold represented her love and dedication to Muichiro.

Finally, after hours of meticulous work, Y/n completed her origami bouquet. It was a stunning masterpiece, a vibrant and delicate collection of paper flowers, each petal and leaf intricately folded and assembled that radiated beauty and love.

Y/n knew that her handmade gift might not last forever like real flowers, but it held a different kind of longevity. With a smile that radiated both pride and anticipation, Y/n approached Muichiro.

"Here!" She said, extending the origami bouquet towards him. The paper flowers, each crafted with a different color that represented the diversity of petals in a garden, were neatly arranged. She had put her heart and soul into making it, and she hoped that Muichiro would see the love and effort she had poured into every fold.

Muichiro's eyes widened in surprise as he accepted the bouquet from her. He held it delicately in his hands, as if it were the most fragile and precious thing in the world. His minty orbs, usually calm and composed, were filled with wonder as they examined the intricate origami creation.

Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of nervousness as she watched him. She had poured her heart into this gift, and she wanted it to mean as much to him as it did to her. Her words tumbled out in a rush; her voice filled with anxious excitement. "Do you like it? I'm sorry, I wanted to give you something memorable, and I just didn't want to buy something and give it to you like that, I-"

Before Y/n could continue her rambling, Muichiro interrupted her with a soft, heartfelt response. "I love it," he said, his fingers gently tracing the intricate paper folds of the bouquet.

“Thank you, Y/n.” His fond expression conveyed more than words ever could. It was a look of appreciation, of understanding, and of deep affection.

Muichiro's curiosity was piqued, and he couldn't help but be fascinated by the intricate origami bouquet that Y/n had created. The colorful paper flowers had captured his attention, but what intrigued him even more was the person behind this thoughtful gift.

"Can you teach me how you created it?" Muichiro asked, his gaze transitioning from the masterpiece in his hands to Y/n, who stood before him with a mix of excitement and surprise.

Y/n's eyes lit up with delight at his request. She hadn't expected Muichiro to show such a keen interest in her craft, and the idea of sharing her passion with him filled her with joy.

"Of course!" she replied enthusiastically. "I'd be more than happy to teach you."

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transmutationisms · 8 months

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i just read Against Exercise. i wanted to ask what you make of this sentence and the wider paradigm he gestures at occasionally in the essay:

Upon the desperate materialist gratifications of a hedonic society, commanding immediate comfort and happiness, we engraft the desperate economics of health, and chase a longer span of happinesses deferred, and comforts delayed, by disposing of the better portion of our lives in life preservation.

do we live in a ‘hedonic’ society? and does that framing shape his conclusions on in ur opinion? i have my own thoughts but am interested in yours x

ok i'm glad you asked because i find this sentence and this paradigm very irritating lol. i don't think he's the only left-ish thinker who's acceded to this type of framing (like i've complained about mark fisher pulling a similar move) but with greif there's a particular irksomeness to it because, even in the sentence you've quoted, we can see in the latter half how he contradicts his own idea of a "hedonic society"! if his thesis here is something like "the dominant cultural paradigm encourages instant gratification and hedonism, and the exerciser defies this edict by deferring their happiness and sweating it out at the gym instead" then, like, the obvious question here is, where does the impulse of the exerciser come from? does greif actually think the pursuit of fitness and longevity by physical exertion is some kind of counter-cultural move that reacts against, without acceding to, the demands of a "hedonic society"? if he does then it kind of undercuts the significance of the entire rest of the essay, lmao.

my personal answer here would be—and this is something greif dances around a few times but doesn't ever seem prepared to fully unpack—that the demand to have a fit and 'healthy' and long-lasting body is not at all contradictory to the demand to consume goods, and that this latter is more precisely what is meant by "hedonism" here if we are to use it in any useful sense. i think what greif is actually pointing to is the demand to shape oneself into, simultaneously, a valuable worker and an obedient consumer. in an immediate sense these two goals demand different things (say, 'going for a run' vs 'buying products') but on a more thorough analysis we can easily see how they arise from the same fundamental logic of profit-seeking. body fascism has never been just an aesthetic; what it promises to the state and the corporation is a population that is biologically managed and economically exploitable. i think this is true even in an imperialist economy like the united states that doesn't run primarily on production/export.

i don't know a ton about mark greif biographically but my impression is that he's kind of half-left at best, lol. certainly he's like, curmudgeonly in a way that is sometimes useful to mine (ruthless criticism of all that exists, &c) but i think in this essay and others we can clearly see how easily that attitude can slide into just a vaguely reactionary position when it lacks materialist analysis. like, frankly i think if we lived in a social context that actually had a commitment to ensuring hedonic pleasure that would probably be a better world. it's kind of similar to when lib-left types try to claim that we live in a world that has any serious degree of commitment to "the individual" when what they actually, usually mean is that we've been massified in a way that denies us social connection and material support from one another.

anyway: 'against exercise' was very mind-blowing to me when i first read it and i love to see someone staking out that position seriously; and there are elements of greif's analysis i think can be useful in an actually communist analysis. but i find a lot of cultural criticism (specifically that positions itself as counter-cultural without being explicitly communist) has a risk of just sliding reactionary, and i think this half-baked idea of a "hedonic society" is an example of that happening. curious what you think though!

#mark greif

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writers-potion · 1 month

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hi! its fairy anon again, thank you for your suggestions! i know my story sounds very gore heavy with my fairy eating babies worldbuilding but i promise my tone is actually much lighter than that 😭 i was kinda trying to take inspo from old fae stories where children would get lured away and go missing because of fairy antics. but anyway! i really like the idea of a chamber where people cant really see what happens inside. it actually gave me an idea to take that a step further to say that no one in-world actually knows what happens to the babies, so people just assume they get eaten. the idea of babies being whisked away somewhere else somehow, and that the place they get sent is linked to the fairy's longevity, i think is a good way to get my lore across without being gratuitously gorey. id love to know what you think of that idea and definitely would welcome any ideas you have in addition if you have any!

also for clarification, you understood my worldbuilding very well but i made a mistake by saying "enslaved" instead of "imprisoned". each noble house has a fairy living in a cell somewhere in the head of house's estate, and each noble house gets one element. for example, my protagonist is the heir to the house that recieved the ice blessing. but also the whole "fairies eating babies" thing is a secret from the public, the commoners of this kingdom have been fed lies for generations about the ancestors of the nobility saving the fae from extinction, which resulted in the faries "blessing" them. this is their justification for why they should be the ruling elite, despite there being very obvious corruption throughout the nobility

"The Mysterious Cave" Trope

Hi! I'm glad that my ideas helped you :)

I think the best way to further develop this idea of babies being whisked away is to take inspiration from existing ones:

The Piped Piper of Hamlin Type

The imprisoned fairies sing/whisper an enchantment that lures children, who walk voluntarily down to their prisons at night.

The "fairy song" picks up a baby, cradle and all, and delivers it to the fairy waiting in their prison

After that, no one knows what happens to the kids who were taken.

The Arabian Nights Type

In this case, there will be some action required from the child/baby, which will open the doors to the fairy's prison

For example, multiple babies can be brought forth in front of the prison's gates. The first baby to cry will automatically get the gates to open, and he will be claimed by the fairy.

Goldilocks and The Three Bears Type

The child/baby to be given is kept for a while (you can decide for how long) in a special room, fed special meals (this can be related to the particular element that the fairy controls) to optimize them for...consumption.

After the baby has been fed/washed/dressed for the occasion, the fairy can be brought into the chamber, or the babies given away to them in prison.

The Sleeping Beauty/Rapunzel Type

This is where the destiny of the babies are determined even before birth.

You can have the loyalty pay for their magic by giving up their second-born to the fairies, or have the loyalty pay off peasant parents to give up their unborn child in exchange of lifetime's worth of wealth.

Alternatively, it can be the fairies who foresee the birth of the babies that they'll consume ("a girl born in -- at -- hour shall be given to me" and such), and as soon as they're born, they'll be claimed.

Hope this helps! :)

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

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nwqueenwrites · 7 months

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Thoughts on Halsin 🍁❤️

(Note: I love seeing conversations about him and the diverse portrayal of intimacy from this game... also before we begin - Open, Poly and non cis het 1:1 love is totally valid and beautiful.)

✨✨✨✨✨✨

Having lived for over 350 years, Halsin has likely experienced profound grief and loss as generations of friends, partners, and family members have grown old and died over the centuries while he remains youthful.

This amount of cumulative grief can take a psychological toll, potentially leading to fatigue or even trauma related to the continual cycle of forming attachments and then losing those he cares for.

:readmore:

To cope with this, Halsin may have adapted by taking an approach of limiting intimacy and avoiding deep romantic commitment to any one individual.

The openness to polyamorous relationships could be a way to maintain connections and intimacy, while also protecting himself emotionally by not relying solely on one partner.

This can be an understandable coping mechanism when facing near-immortal longevity combined with human frailty.

However, avoiding deep romantic bonds over centuries may also leave Halsin feeling empty and disconnected. Watching loved ones slip away could compound a sense of isolation and existential loneliness.

While his adaptable approach allows him to carry on, Halsin may harbor deep grief that cannot fully be resolved while remaining eternally youthful among mortals. Finding meaning and purpose beyond individual relationships could be important for Halsin's continued growth and fulfillment.

While polyamory can be a valid approach for some, after centuries of loss, Halsin may still long for the stability and comfort of a lasting partnership. Jumping from lover to lover without allowing deeper roots to form may leave him feeling unmoored.

Having witnessed so much change over the decades, the promise of a steadfast companion can be appealing despite the risks. Part of Halsin may yearn for the chance to build a life and a home with someone by his side for however long their years allow. A singular devoted partnership cannot be replaced entirely.

Though he may have adopted polyamory as a protective strategy, facing grief and change eternally as an immortal being may also cause Halsin to wish for an anchor - someone true who will stand by him through whatever may come, even if only for a limited mortal lifespan.

Also, While part of Halsin may long for lasting stability and commitment, polyamorous relationships can still nurture him and provide affection. Not every connection must be so profound as to leave him utterly devastated when it ends. There is merit in more casual intimacies that sustain him for a time without demanding his whole self.

Polyamory allows Halsin to share varied experiences with diverse partners, making the most of his extensive lifespan. He need not limit himself to one sole companion when there are so many uniquely beautiful souls to appreciate over the centuries. In this way, polyamorous arrangements allow Halsin to explore love widely without the complete anguish of losing a singular life partner.

While some relationships may run deeper than others, he can still cultivate care and support through his chosen loves and community. With openness and communication, polyamory provides fulfillment and respite from loneliness as he continues navigating immortal life. For Halsin, it may be a delicate balance - letting himself enjoy connection while remaining guarded enough to endure love’s losses.

Just love him 😻

💖💖💖💖💖

#halsin x tav #bg3 tav #baldur's gate 3 #halsin x oc #halsin x reader #halsin #my tav

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smilemuse · 2 months

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CYCLES ARE MEANT TO FOLLOW A LINEAR PATH WITH EVERY TIME BEGINNING & ENDING. for yoshida, his life has been nothing but the longevity people boat about in myths, the immortality most people crave. there's a sense of detachment from mortals plight, but he could never fully understand them. at least until he met the blonde he was currently watching. he observes without fail how he tends to the shrine considering yoshida wasn't just any type of kitsune: an inari okami. he is divinity in itself the way his ears & tail are a stark contrast to his hair.

he is revered as a deity, blessings are made as offerings, & a following of the old ways remain. he knows for the most part superstition has faded into the background, but he doesn't mind so much. yoshida didn't need people to believe him his long life should speak for itself.

today yoshida decides he'll be bold introduce himself to denji. it was a promise that fades into an obscure movie that most can't appreciate. dark grey eyes decide he'd like to fixate on the other in person & so he crosses the threshold from the supernatural to the mortal coil. he keeps the mask on but his ears remain, a sign that he is anything but the ordinary. he finishes going through the steps before he approaches the blonde that was doing their cleaning duties.

❛ excuse me, ❜ there's a deliberate pause while his voice is the sound of running water. ❛ i've come to give an offering, specifically for you. it's more of a blessing. you're one of the shrine maidens here, aren't you? ❜ the mask hides his facial features but if denji were to uncover it, he would view the smirk on his lips.

@getsusekaii surprise starter !

#getsusekaii #ɪᴄ.#☈ • ᴛʙᴛ.#i can't think of a verse name rn #but you know what this is #q.

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hozierbyrne · 6 months

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i’d rather die than be open honest and vulnerable on twitter but on here where no hockey media will see it i want to say that nicklas backstrom is and will always live in my heart. i watch an ungodly amount of hockey and i like so many players, but i don't think i'll ever quite feel the same about any other player, ever.

nicke backstrom is — a consummate professional and private about his own life and family, but always happy to speak to fans when he is out and about, kind and quiet and a good reader of people. a pillar of the franchise on the ice and off, in every way you can think of. frightened of dogs but gamely always took photos holding a little one for the annual charity calendar. steady and steadfast, the best two-way centerman you could possibly imagine who's never won a selke. quietly exceptional his entire career and always, always fucking overlooked by everyone except his own city, who loves him with a fervor usually reserved for religious figures. dc loves him as if to make up for the fact that he never gets his due anywhere else. they saw him grow up and grow into himself and that's an honor, and they love him for it. they love him for this too: he plays beautiful hockey. incredible vision, soft hands. competitive nearly to a fault and unafraid to get into faces when needed. (some games he could drag the caps to a win they didn't deserve otherwise out of sheer force of will.) best pure passer in the nhl, you'd never see prettier saucer passes than you'd see from him. absolutely cold-blooded, patient and unyielding, could sit on a puck for a whole period if needed, waiting for his wingers to get where they needed to be. could sit on a puck for a minute and a half of a power play, waiting for alex ovechkin to drift into position and wind up, stick high in the air, waiting to shoot. he never panicked. he never panicked on the ice and he never panicked off of it either. when the puck was on his stick he was in control of the game and he knew it. off the ice, when fans were clamoring to blow up the core after years of early playoff exits, when the media pressure was building and building, when the wider hockey world muttered and whispered that ovechkin and backstrom just didn't have what it takes — he was unshakeable. he believed so fiercely in himself and his team. when nobody else thought they could do it, he flatly promised that this team was going to bring a cup to the city. and he was right!

he's always unshakeable. he's always calm and he's always brave and he's always unselfish. i feel like chewing through the walls. i feel so fucking bad about this because i think he was feeling optimistic this year but hip resurfacing is a hard, hard procedure to come back from. no nhler has ever done it. he chose to do the surgery for his kids more than anything, i think. i think he knew his odds, too. and i think he knew, through these first eight games of the season, that the bounce back he was hoping for wasn't going to happen, at least not right now. and then he did the thing he always does: he put his team first, and he put his family first, and he did it quietly, without fanfare. he told his management and then he gathered his team and he told them, and every caps beat reporter said that today the atmosphere was unlike anything they had ever witnessed, that it was somber and bitter and just... off. they said practice was bad, as one might expect. tj oshie talked about feeling so awful because he knew how hard nicke was working to get back to the game he loved....... and it comes back to: this sucks. it's not fair. nicke plays a game that should have meant longevity, and it feels wrong that time is catching up like this, with a vengeance.

ovi is so big with his love and his heart that it's easy to miss how hot nicke burns too. i quite literally cannot imagine a capitals team without him. i don't think any of the guys in the locker room can either. like. ovi's supposed to break the goals record without nicke passing to him? i'm going to throw up. i'm going to cry. john carlson said it feels weird today, and it's going to keep feeling weird. and... yeah! going to watch the caps tomorrow and cry through the broadcast, i'm sure. i hope they get blown out. i hope they lose 7-1. i hope they get a shutout and ovi scores a hat trick and tom gets a gordie howe. do you get it.

#i feel unhinged and melancholy and bitter!!#just something about a hockey player that you more or less grew up alongside faced with the inexorable march of time and injury adding up #i really love him like. as much as you can love some random guy who plays sports professionally lmao #sorry u guys are getting subjected to this but like n.hl team employees and beat writers follow me on twt i can't speak freely

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bryan360 · 2 months

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No "On This Day" posting I'll be focusing today.

Also….

(NO COPYING OR PLAGIARIZING FROM ME AND ONE OF MY CLOSEST FRIEND’S WORK! THAT INCLUDES OUR CHARACTERS, DESIGNS, STUFF, ETC. IMPOSTERS AND SEXBOTS ARE NOT WELCOME TO FOLLOW MY BLOG WHATSOEVER! 😡 That will be all….I mean it.)

2024 Review - Seagate 2TB Portable Drive (Second Half - Installing and Formatted)

Hey, guys! Sorry for keeping this waited from past weeks that I’m trying to write I got. Nevertheless, it’s time for the second half part of my portable drive topic review without leaving behind. Last time where I’d covered the unboxing portion during the first half, I’m now moving onto to install with my gaming system which I’d did awhile back. Before I can show you around, there’s something I wanted to bring I’d kept secret from past years. I should’ve brought it sooner if I had such time left til now. Nevertheless, it’s for my gaming console itself as a previous upgrade that my family give me.

(From January. 6th; 2:29 to 2:30 P.M.)

This here’s my actual Xbox One S console (not the Xbox Series S/X, though). It happened back in December. 16th, 2019 that my family give me as a late Christmas gift by surprise. Well, a surprise for me back then from before. There’s also a second gift that would be save for another time. Anyways, It’s been past 6 years later after decided to move on with my Xbox One S system. Its longevity usage runs well of playing games I have; which I’ll get to that for my final part soon. As for what happened to my original Xbox One, the one I got from April 2015; is thankfully kept into my closest that doesn’t have scratches. Don’t worry, I still got everything for my Xbox One S system with its data that was originally carried from my original gaming console.

(From 2:32 to 2:56 P.M.)

So anyways as I continue on, we’re bringing you this step where I installed with my portable drive and its USB cable. Took about few seconds to connect with both items together, but finally got it of what’s on screen display right after turning my gaming console. As you can see, there’s a front USB slot down left corner below where I’d placed there. It was my second attempt when my gaming console recognize not too long ago. Of course there’s some USB slots on the backside I’d tried to get around minutes before that. I don’t know why or if I would’ve paid attention closely, but the front USB slot is one way to go. Now, I went to options setting to manage storage devices; where you can see I could select on either media and for games with my portable drive. Obviously, I’m here to formatted any games I got. As of now though, it read about 1.8TB instead of 2TB from what the box advertised. It does happens for other hard drives, so that’s alright.

(From 2:58 to 3:01 P.M.)

Just holding on til I'd promised I can finished off for the final part soon. In the meantime, I've given to formatted my portable drive that didn't take long to complete. I'd given its name of "My Games" first during this recording. Looks good so far as I'm moving to store with one of my games I got. That said, that's gonna be it for this second half part of my portable drive review. I’m sorry that things weren’t according as planned I’d would’ve do more for this month. I’m just having some trouble scheduling while I’m stuck doing at the program for weekday mornings. Even though I would be doing during the weekends by any point, I’d tried my best to write some stuff. Nevertheless, at least I’d gotten with this second half covered; especially finally showing my previous gaming console after years later.

My Overall Thoughts (so far):

As of now, It’s nice to installed with my portable drive and its 3.0 cable to my gaming console in respond. So far, I’d went through formatted with my device before I can move on with my other games to store later. And I just had one game that deserved to start up for my final part soon. Hope you’ll be ready for this. 👍

Reveal - Link Here

First Half - Unboxing Impressions - Link Here #2

Tagged: @murumokirby360 @carmenramcat @alexander1301 @rafacaz4lisam2k4 @paektu

#2024 review #review #item review #second half #seagate #seagate 2tb portable drive #portable drive #hard drive #2tb #installation #installing #formatted #gaming console #xbox one s #etc.#february 2024 #february 27th 2024

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theladyofbloodshed · 2 years

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A Court of Tangled Flames - Chapter Five

A golden morning broke across the Autumn Court, showering the vast forests with warmth. The beautiful morning together with Orla’s steps around the house managed to coax Nesta out of bed. She didn’t really feel like getting out from beneath the safety of the covers nor did she want to socialise but it was expected of her. Likely Eris would climb through her bedroom window again. She supposed that she was in their debt either way and despite his words, Eris could throw her back to the wolves at any moment – or into a different sort of den entirely if he handed her over to his father.

Orla scrubbed at a pan when Nesta finally managed to convince herself to head downstairs. A half-packed bag was open on the kitchen table along with a letter addressed to Nesta. Orla gave her a beautiful smile in greeting as though she was genuinely happy to see her. It was likely her polished healer’s smile because nobody would ever want Nesta’s company. Even Eris had barely stayed an hour the previous night - though Nesta suspected the visit was purely to check that she was still alive.

'No need to write that letter after all,’ she said with another breezy smile. ‘I’m heading off soon. I’ll be gone a couple of nights. Can I ask you to feed the chickens? I’m taking the horses so don’t worry about that. Eat anything you want, cook whatever. A seamstress will come this morning to fit new clothes for you – and Maceo might be here then too. Help yourself to anything you need. Eris will be here later to stay with you.’

‘Eris is staying with me?’

It was surely improper for the son of a high lord to stay with Nesta without any sort of chaperone. Then again, Eris wouldn’t be crowing that fact around either. She barely knew the male. But his reputation for cruelty was well known throughout Prythian.

‘Don’t believe the lies they tell you about Eris.’ Orla had sensed her discomfort about being alone with him. ‘He does what he must for our benefit. Judge him on his treatment of you – not what you’ve heard.’

After Orla departed, the seamstress did arrive along with an apprentice. Nesta had never seen a fae so young; not a child but not adult, all gangly limbs and blushing smiles – a teenager. And as Orla predicted, Maceo arrived for another lesson.

The elderly male continued his lectures while Nesta stood on the spot being measured. Swathes of material were held to her skin to match her complexion despite her insistence that she favoured greys or pale blues. The apprentice worked on better fitting plain dresses to her frame that they had already prepared to give Nesta something to wear rather than Orla’s spares that were too loose on the bodice for her.

Maceo started broad, providing a history of Prythian in general and some of the most notable high lords in its history though due to the longevity of a fae’s life, there was not an extensive list of high lords to work through. Most had met an abrupt end to their life; few went to the eternal land comfortably.

After the two clothes makers had departed, Maceo promised they would move onto the Autumn Court the following day to trace the Vanserra line. Before that could happen, they had to take their walk of the garden while Nesta recited as much as she could remember. Her tutor believed that if she could explain it in her own words, it demonstrated a solid understanding.

In the secret garden that Eris had taken her to previously, they sat while Maceo rested. He’d groaned as he lowered his body onto the bench, age turning everything stiff and aching. Minutes turned into an hour of quiet talking. Maceo was content for Nesta to quiz him on his own life since he was a walking history himself. She couldn’t help but think that Gwyn would love to meet him for her research purposes.

‘My young lord.’ Maceo gave the lowest bow of the head that he could manage at Eris’ arrival from his seat on the bench.

Eris gave a brief smile in greeting, appearing silently before them. ‘How fares your newest student? Do I have competition?’

Maceo patted Nesta on the hand. ‘I am sorry to tell you, Nesta, that I have never had another student like Eris. The brightest I’ve ever taught and the most doggedly determined. The rare time Orla ever outshined him, well, I had a very sullen student then.’

‘It’s not a crime to want to be the best.’ Eris took a seat on the bench next to them and crossed an ankle over the other. A dog leapt up beside him - the youngest one, Nesta recognised. Eris made a noise of displeasure and the puppy slunk back towards the ground.

‘Orla once performed abysmally in an examination which was highly unlike her so I was demanding to know why she’d performed so poorly. Eris threw his own exam into the fire then some of my own notes too to deflect my attention from Orla.’

Eris rolled his eyes then turned back to watching his dogs sniffing at the flowerbeds. The late afternoon sun bathed him in liquid gold.

‘What I didn’t know was that Orla’s mother had passed away in the night. Had I known, then we would have cancelled class for comfort instead.’ Maceo smiled fondly at Eris. ‘I’ve had many good students - but I’m far prouder of the better people they’ve become.’

‘Perhaps I’d also performed abysmally and seized the opportunity to seem noble rather than have my failings examined.’

‘We write our own narratives, Eris. You spin yours, but I do not think you believe it. I certainly don’t.’ Maceo gave him a searching look then rubbed his hands across his thighs. ‘It is time for this old male to return to his lodgings for afternoon tea and a nap. Nesta, you were impeccable today. With time, you will rival Eris.’

‘She will exceed me.’

‘Goodbye Maceo.’ They said in unison, watching the elderly fae aiming for the path running towards the gates.

Neither spoke for a while. Nesta took the opportunity to simply look at Eris. He almost reminded her of Azriel in that his face held a classic beauty - though where Azriel’s leaned towards melancholy, Eris’ face was sharper, the jaw line enough to cut, and the spike of his ears similar to her own. The fine cut of his clothes screamed wealth although he was less outlandish with colour than his brother. He’d opted for pants the colour of tree bark with black, polished boots and a fitted jacket tossed over a rust-coloured doublet. Eris reminded Nesta of the death of autumn before winter seized it.

‘Are you memorising me?’

Nesta didn’t try to hide the fact that she’d been openly staring at him. Refused to let herself blush that she’d been caught admiring him. ‘Do you believe in the Mother?’

The abruptness of her question had caught Eris off guard. He tore his face away from watching his dogs. ‘Yes. Why wouldn’t I?’

‘Maceo taught me about her and the Cauldron today and the high lords. I didn’t know she was worshipped properly. I’ve mostly heard her name to blaspheme.’

‘There are temples in the Night Court, aren’t there?’

‘I suppose so, but I haven’t seen regular people worshipping. My friend, Gwyn, is a priestess. Ianthe, that one from Spring, she was a high priestess, was she not?’

Eris scrunched up his face with distaste. ‘She was not a holy female. A wretch from the same shit hole as Amarantha rather than a servant of the Mother. Pardon my language.’

‘Do you worship?’

Eris blinked at her then turned his face away, almost bashful in his expression. ‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Maybe we need something to believe in. I can take you to a temple if you wish.’

His responses today lacked the usual charm or dizziness they usually exuded. At times, Eris almost appeared downcast, his brows drawing together in deep thought.

‘Eris, are you well?’

The male rose in one fluid motion that drew his smokehounds to him in anticipation. ‘Come, Nesta. There is a chill in the air. We’ll attempt to cook without burning Orla’s house to the ground.’

Nesta accepted the arm her offered to her, grateful for his warmth as they weaved back through the twisting paths towards the beautiful house. ‘You didn’t answer my question. How are you? You seem different today.’

‘Do I?’ A faint smile appeared on his lips. ‘Thank you for noticing. I met your family today. They truly are delightful.’

***

Plan after plan was layered on top of the other with about fifty different emergency contingency plans. Eris kept a closer watch on his brothers than Beron so he was always able to anticipate their movements throughout the court. His father was engaged with business all day too allowing Eris to slip away to the Hewn City for his meeting with the Night Court. After all this time, Eris could still not be complacent. In a den of vipers, none could afford to lower their guard.

He had gone to bed with his thoughts ringing with Nesta Archeron. Sleep had been reluctant to visit. It was rare for a female to captivate him enough to starve him of sleep, but it wasn’t lust that had Eris tossing and turning, but worry. Worry for the female who receded back into her shell like the tide whenever he was away from her.

As expected, Eris – with his early arrival – was led to their usual meeting room where the high lord would receive him. As he suspected, the high lord and his cronies were not in the Hewn City again. Eris was desperate to question Nesta over it, but didn’t want her to fear that she was only useful for the information she could provide him. She had already inadvertently given him a goldmine of information when she’d broken down.

There was no sign of the high lady or Morrigan or Cassian at their meeting. Eris ought to have been glad for it because his temper might have revolted at the sign of that brute who’d had Nesta staggering behind him for miles without relenting.

Rhysand sauntered in with the shadowsinger, his casual demeanour not fooling Eris in the slightest. There were shadows beneath both males’ eyes, a nervous sort of energy circling them.

Following in behind them was Lucien. Eris wondered if he could ever see his little brother without feeling hopeless despair that he hadn’t done enough for him. Hadn’t done enough and his brother had been driven away.

Eris passed along truth and lies about his father, never giving them all the details that he truly knew and never giving anything that might compromise his court in any way. Once Beron was dead, Eris would inherit the court – and he needed it in one piece. That took priority.

‘You should visit Spring. I hear the blossom is beautiful.’ Eris picked his nails with disinterest. ‘Though I would be wary of the golden beast that has taken to stalking the land.’

‘Do you ever speak truthfully instead of sideways, Eris?’

‘The Spring Court is weak. Their high lord is weakened, preferring to stay as a beast. My father has armies posted very close to the border for training purposes. Are you able to connect those facts, Rhysand, or do you require assistance? Don’t tell me the brute is the brains of the operation after all.’

‘Father cannot move onto Spring. That’s as good as declaring war,’ Lucien puzzled.

‘Who will stop him?’

Eris hated to use Lucien in his webs or for his bait, but it was a necessity – and Lucien knew just how black his heart was anyway. ‘You and father would be neighbours then. I’m sure he would enjoy a visit to the mortal lands.’

And, because he was a vindictive sort of male, Eris said, ‘Where is the Morrigan today? I hoped to see her pretty, little face.’

They were too predictable. Azriel glowered from his post, shadows sliding up his body like a churning black sea. A flicker of anger crossed Rhys’ face too at the mention of his cousin. For Mor, they’d both set the world on fire. Where was that protection for Nesta? Where was the family that should have loved her?

‘And the brute she fucked, where is he? I thought the three of you came as a pack. I’ll begin to feel offended that you don’t all come to meet me.’

‘Our lives don’t revolve around you, Eris.’

‘Where is the high lady? Anybody would think you’re hiding her. Does Lucien’s mate not like to visit the Hewn City either?’

‘You will not talk about my mate.’

Eris merely snorted. ‘I shall talk about whomever I wish. The third sister. Bring her to the Hewn City, Rhysand, she’s at least enjoyable to look upon.’

Say her name, Eris thought. He wanted to hear Nesta’s name on their lips, hear it spoken with utter regret or despair that they had tried to break her. Part of Eris knew that they had succeeded. There were cracks in Nesta that might never recover.

‘You have a keen interest in the Archerons,’ noted Azriel.

‘They’re interesting females.’ Against his better judgement, Eris wanted to continue the topic of Nesta. ‘The last time I saw Nesta, she pointed a death finger at Tamlin. Maybe the Cauldron will bless me with the third Archeron as my mate. It certainly would be a blessing to have her warming my bed.’

Their tempers fluttered beneath the surface as Eris skirted as close to the topic of Nesta Archeron’s disappearance as he could without being too obvious.

‘I would certainly take better care of her than the Illyrian brute.’

‘What do you know, Eris?’ Rhys asked softly, violet eyes boring into him. The mental shields that Eris had were impenetrable, even to a daemati as strong as Rhysand.

‘A great many things. Be specific.’

‘About Nesta.’

‘She’s taller than the others. Braver. More beautiful. Made my father stop in his tracks. Are you assessing me for compatibility because, I assure you, we would be well matched.’

‘Do you have her?’

Feigning ignorance, he tilted his chin slightly. ‘I’m afraid I don’t follow.’

He capitalised on it, pressing them to discover what they meant – despite knowing exactly what had occurred to poor Miss Archeron. They claimed Nesta had disappeared. Simply up and left one day without rhyme or reason, the trickster. Eris knew all of his brother’s tells including how he fought to hide his displeasure by pointing his face towards his lap. No, Lucien did not like either Nesta’s treatment or how they lied to cover it up. The shadowsinger gave nothing away, he never did. Those strange shadows that were not a part of him yet coated him, seemed to grow thicker as Rhysand lied though, uncomfortable with it.

If they were to lie to him then Eris would return the favour.

‘Why ever would she depart your court?’ Eris let his face fall slightly then he gave a malicious grin. ‘Perhaps Nesta realised the type of male the brute really is. I shouldn’t blame her for fleeing rather than being shackled to him.’

‘Is she in Autumn?’ Rhys demanded, his voice more brittle and wrought with emotion than Eris had ever heard it. He had to remember that this was a male with a pregnant mate – a mate who’d die soon. He shouldn't push him too far. If they could just be honest and admit they had trampled Nesta into nothing then maybe he’d be inclined to offer Orla’s support, but Nesta was being shrouded like a dirty, little secret. They made it seem as if Nesta just departed one day on a whim purely to cause them upset - not that they had nearly extinguished the light from her eyes.

‘Why would she be in my court? Do you think it is possible for her to have crossed through five territories alone?’ Eris shook his head, disbelieving. ‘How long has she been missing?’

The high lord and the shadowsinger exchanged a quick look. ‘A few days.’

‘If she’s on foot then she’d barely be out of your court. Have you considered that Briallyn might have her? I trust the Mask and the Harp are secure, Rhysand?’

‘We’d know if Briallyn had her,’ Lucien said, though he did not sound sure.

‘And would you know if a different sort of Illyrian brute had her? Your court treats its females as well as my own. Anything could be happening to her. The Cauldron-cursed kingslayer is wanted by more than just Briallyn. She’s your sister-in-law, Rhysand, and you aren’t scouring the world to find her?’

Rhys tensed his jaw. ‘Eris, is Nesta in your court?’

Bastards. Bastards for not searching every inch of the world for her to ensure she was safe. Then again, this was the male that threatened to kill her. He was likely disappointed that he never had the opportunity.

Eris was struggling to look at them now without it all spilling it out. He had to get a lid on his emotions. But how could he when they had forced her from her home because she didn’t fit the mould they had created for her? When they’d forced her to train against her will and dragged her off to Illyria when she still didn’t bend to their will.

‘Is she smart?’

‘What?’

‘Nesta. She seemed smart. Is she?’

Rhys conceded a nod as though it aggrieved him to admit such a thing.

‘Then why would Nesta go anywhere near Beron’s territory? If Beron Vanserra gained Nesta Archeron, this entire land would belong to him. If she is smart, the last thing she would ever do would be to go to Autumn. No, Nesta Archeron is not in my court – and I hope she is never foolish enough to go there.’

***

When Eris had finished telling Nesta the exact details of his meeting at the Hewn City, she could feel her cheeks growing hot. They arrived into the house and she said, ‘I’m not warming your bed.’

For the first time that day, Eris gave Nesta a true smile that made his eyes almost screw closed. ‘That’s what you’re most upset about? That I insinuated you might warm my bed?’

Her tongue was thick in her mouth, tangling into a knot in embarrassment that yes, she was now picturing herself and Eris in bed together. Through her stutter, she said, ‘I’m not a warming pan.’

Eris’s fingers slid around her slender wrist, the skin tingling with heat. ‘We have fire in our blood in the Autumn Court. If anybody is to warm the sheets, it would be me, Nesta.’

All she could do was blink in response. There was little distance between their bodies – a fact Nesta was keenly aware of. Amber eyes searched hers then Eris remembered himself and let her wrist drop. He took a step back and dipped his chin in apology.

It was a strange evening sharing his company without Orla acting as a buffer. Without her presence, Eris seemed a little more reserved. They had managed to cobble together a decent dinner with Eris deferring to Nesta for instructions although his fingers flew with the knife as he chopped. Perhaps he too was a warrior like Cassian but didn’t make it his entire being. Hadn’t Lucien mentioned once that Eris was the general of the Autumn Court’s armies?

Meeting new people and her carefully constructed regime falling away meant that Nesta was tired early. She wanted to skulk away to her room. There was nothing unpleasant about Eris’ company; he remained at the table seeing to paperwork with a dog curled up beside him and the puppy slumbering in his lap. He hadn’t tried to engage her or challenge her like Cassian was prone to doing it. No, he seemed to realise that Nesta needed time alone.

Another dog had followed her into the living room and sat at her feet. This one was completely black, unlike the others. Her glossy fur shined as Eris’ magic fire reflected off her coat.

It was so tempting to slip away up the stairs and retreat to the safety of the bedroom, but Nesta knew she had to push through those feelings. She was no longer in the Night Court. Eris appeared to be true to his word and had kept her whereabouts secret though she did fear that, one day, he’d give her a massive bill of all the costs she incurred. No, thus far, Eris had been kind and considerate, backing off when she needed it or dragging her into the light when she needed that too.

Nesta forced herself to remain in the lounge rather than taking the easy option. With nobody observing her, she patted the cushion beside her and the dog, very quietly, hefted her body up beside Nesta. Her tail wagged vigorously then soon enough she was sprawled onto Nesta’s lap, tipping to one side for access to her belly. She’d never thought she’d be a dog person. The village dogs were rangy things meant for herding sheep or they patrolled the village as strays for scraps. They were easy to provoke in winter months, preferring to bark or growl if people wandered too close to a rabbit they’d managed to kill. Eris’ dogs were a rare breed. Cassian had said they were only bred by nobility and it was forbidden to trade them beyond the court’s borders. The one huddled beside her was lapping up the fuss. She had little doubt they underwent regimented training, but this one was rubbing her body against the cushions, pushing closer to Nesta, and still thumping her tail without restraint.

Thoughts of Feyre consumed Nesta as she curled up next to the dog, stroking against her silky ears. Her little sister grew closer to death every day. Who was fighting for her? Rhys wasn’t doing enough. She had to wonder if her sister truly loved Rhysand or was a bond telling her that she did? The Feyre that she had grown up with never wanted to be a mother, had never wanted to be near children – and definitely would not have stood for a husband making so many decisions on her behalf. Her sister was already lost to her, lost to a male who controlled every aspect of her life.

***

It wasn’t unusual to hear no noise from Nesta, but Eris was sure that he hadn’t been so engulfed by his work that he had entirely missed her walking through the kitchen to the staircase. He had checked anyway to confirm that she was not in her bedroom. Then he found her fast asleep, with a hand tucked under her cheek on the couch. Safera snored beside Nesta, her nose almost touching Nesta’s. Eris took a couple of steps closer. The dog raised her head, thumping her tail once at his arrival, but one stern look had Safera slipping back onto the ground. One hour with Nesta and she was already clambering on the furniture for a fuss. The dog knew better than that. It seemed Nesta Archeron bent everybody’s morals.

For a while, he stood motionless watching Nesta slumber. Longing struck him. It came suddenly – a desire for this. A female who could be in his company without fear or fawning, comfortable enough to slip into sleep with a hound beside her. Maybe it wasn’t Nesta specifically that Eris desired, but he had never had any female to love. If he ever met a female who interested him enough, Eris knew he could never pursue her lest she come to harm from his family. Beron wasn’t the greatest threat. Beron never lied or moved in the darkness, no, he preferred to move like a juggernaut, destroying anything in his path and Eris had spent many years learning how to move to safety at the last second. It was his brothers who would be the most dangerous. They were the reason Jesminda had been executed – though Lucien was foolish not to hide her better. They took every opportunity to step on each other in their desire to please Beron. Their father had perfected the art of pitting his sons against one and other.

Carefully, he tucked a thick, knitted blanket around her thin body then allowed Safera to break the rules once more and creep up on to the couch with her. He was guilty enough of allowing Yenor into his lap at any occasion. Poor Dami knew that his place was on the rug by the hearth so he folded himself up beside the fire.

Nesta jolted awake half way through his cup of tea. Safera smothered her face and Nesta was so thoroughly pinned by the dog and the blanket she even called for Eris to assist her. He decided to loom over her instead to watch her futile attempts to break free of Safera. That dog had always been a fusspot.

Eventually, he lifted Safera away - but only once Nesta’s laughter was ringing out in the room. She realised then that she had slipped into slumber. Her easy mood shifted into caution – wise, he supposed.

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

Eris shrugged then lifted her legs to seat himself at the bottom of the couch rather than the chair now.

‘You looked far too peaceful to disturb.’

Nesta shielded her body with the blanket. ‘Did you sit and watch me sleep?’

What the hell had been done to her in the Night Court to make her so distrustful of other people’s company?

‘Unfortunately, my life does not revolve solely around you. I am inundated daily by around thirty different reports or letters that require rapid responses.’ Fearing that his words might have been too harsh, Eris added, ‘If you snored any louder, I might have smothered you.’

‘I don’t snore,’ she shot back.

‘Don’t blame Safera,’ he teased before reached towards the table where he’d made her a tea. ‘It’s probably tepid now, sorry.’

Eris could not resist observing her again. There was an enchantment to this female. Perhaps it was the good manners or quiet personality that snagged Eris’ attention. Even with her hair slightly astray and creases on her skin from sleep, Nesta had an unrivalled beauty. He was desperate to see that fire blaze within her once again.

‘I know that it’s late, but I did promise to take you to a temple. It’s probably safer to go at night.’

‘Safer?’ Her brow furrowed.

‘I mean for me. My father is not well liked – neither am I. Just as I have my spies, my father has his, my brothers have theirs, and many tongues can wag for enough coin. The less people who spot me, the better.’

Although Eris had tried to reassure Nesta, she still was unconvinced. He reached for her hand. It was always so cold, the tendons standing out starkly. ‘I will always protect you, Nesta. Do not doubt your safety when you’re with me.’

They winnowed to the village, as close as Eris could manage to the temple without landing in the middle of it. It was a refuge that remained open at all hours for lonely souls and broken hearts. Eris always preferred to seek the Mother at night though that seemed to be the time of desperation for many. He liked the quiet of the temple, the lack of bodies, so only his thoughts might track up to her.

From the long look he was given by one of the priests, Eris had been recognised the moment they passed through the arched doors. Not ideal, but blood was forbidden to be spilt in a holy place – a fact he murmured in Nesta’s ear just in case she ever needed sanctuary in the Autumn Court. It was a law that even Beron abided by, lest he faced the wrath of the Mother.

Yellow light flickered on the stone walls as candles burnt in the large chamber. A rich scent of vanilla came in wafts. The elderly priest who conducted ceremonies was likely asleep; he was a frail thing that had only ever served the Mother. Only two other priests were present: the one who had recognised Eris, and one who was likely an apprentice by the way he fussed over all of the candles the moment they flickered too wildly.

‘I didn’t know males served the Mother too.’

‘It is rarer, yes,’ Eris whispered as he guided Nesta towards a private alcove. ‘We are all created from her.’

‘Not me,’ Nesta winced.

There was pain beneath her words. She turned her eyes to the domed ceiling, gazing upon the ancient language painted upon it. Eris didn’t entirely know what had happened that day two mortals became fae. He had seen what happened to Feyre; knew that her bond to Rhysand somehow kept her tethered to this world. Even Beron had given up a drop of his power to bring her back from the dead, but the other Archerons had not been between the living or the dead. They had been two healthy human women, forced into a world they likely feared.

‘Come,’ he said, taking her hand to show her the various parts of the temple.

Through it all, Nesta asked little, but her eyes were wide, soaking it all in. Eris knew that mortals had nothing to pray to – likely many fae would enjoy to be worshipped once more by mortals.

As he always did, Eris lit two candles for each brother that had already left this world. It was to honour their memory and send his heart to them through the Mother. Strangely, it did not feel like an intrusion to have Nesta stood beside him as he narrated what he was doing and why.

‘Did you love them?’

‘Love is a difficult word. Maybe in this situation, regret is more appropriate.’ Eris settled both candles besides others that had been lit earlier. ‘This is not only for the dead. Even the living are in need of prayer.’

Nesta said no more, but took a candle and lit it from one of his own. She placed hers next to his too and watched the flame flicker with a growing expression of sadness. He did not know who she thought of – a mother, a father, her sisters – but he merely took hold of her cold hand again and drew her closer. Quietly, he murmured a prayer with his head bowed.

‘Our Mother, our guardian dear, whose eternal love has brought me here. Forever this day, be at my side, to light me and to guard me, to bless and to guide.’

When Eris had finished, Nesta was appraising him. She regarded him as if it was their first-time meeting. In a way, it was the first time she had. It was rare for Eris to ever go to a temple with a guest – perhaps only his mother but that would be to the large temple that existed within the grounds of the Forest House. Nesta was seeing a part of him that even Orla had never seen, and yet Eris did not mind to share that part of himself with this female.

It was shameful that the Night Court had not shown worship in Prythian to Nesta, or the other Archerons. Lucien might have been lax with his worship as a young male, but even he ought to want Elain to understand about the Mother and the Cauldron.

‘Eris, can we walk to Orla’s instead of winnowing?’

They risked exposure by walking, but it was a dark night. Their route was through the quietest parts of the village and Eris was loathe to turn Nesta down when she expressed an interest in something other than sinking back beneath the sheets.

Perhaps, because he never did anything without himself benefitting, he agreed so that Nesta would tuck herself beside him as they walked. Their steps moved in tandem, his warmth shrouding her against the night. Eris could feel his carefully constructed armour slipping when he was with Nesta. There was a fervent desire to give her the world that he could not stop his heart from feeling. He barely knew her. They were not anything. The logical side of his mind reinforced that she was Cassian’s something. That he shouldn’t want any female who had wanted that brute. His heart sang a different song; his heart leapt when her rare smiles came. He found himself unable to refuse her anything, found himself rushing into situations that involved Nesta.

Her breath clouded in front of her as she walked, so Eris held onto her a little tighter. Orla had left with a vague warning for him.

Whatever it is you’re feeling, Eris, stop it, now.

They turned down the narrow lane, stepping carefully over wayward brambles.

Orla’s words made sense. Nesta had been through an awful few years which had been made worse by the Night Court. She needed time to heal then to grow without Eris breathing down her neck. He would be her friend. He had the feeling she did not have many of those.

‘Thank you,’ she said suddenly.

‘You’re welcome. But what for?’

Nesta laughed once, the noise sending his pulse skittering. ‘For everything.’

***

The following day was busy. Maceo arrived early, proclaiming that rain was on its way then, sure enough, a downpour followed. In the brief distance between the house and the chicken coop, Nesta got a soaking so Eris, who stayed home to finish responding to all of his letters and reports, used his magic to create an enormous fire in the hearth. Nesta knelt beside it, fussing Safera and Yenor, while Maceo began his teachings for the day.

For hours, Maceo talked about the long line of Vanserra’s who had held the seat of Autumn. Occasionally, he would turn a question onto Eris who answered with accuracy and brevity each time. Beron was the longest reigning high lord in Prythian’s history, but he gained his status through murdering not only his brothers, but his uncles too, leaving him as the only blood relative of his father.

‘The Autumn Court mantle has always passed from father to eldest son, but my father had to ensure it did,’ Eris explained. ‘He is not a believer in fate.’

‘The Vanserras are the only family who have always ruled Prythian since the beginning of high lords.’

Even the Night Court had not always been ruled by Rhysand’s family, Nesta learnt, though they had held the title of high lord for many generations.

‘And one day, Eris’ eldest son will be high lord,’ said Maceo.

‘What if you only have daughters?’

Eris smirked. ‘If the magic knows what’s good for it, it will select a high lady upon my death.’

A high lady in actuality rather than just a gifted title. Although Eris was not a high lord, Nesta had seen him work harder in the last two days then she had ever seen from a member of the inner circle. His work seemed to consume him. Even as she and Maceo diverged from their topic of his family, Eris remained upright in the chair, hand flying over the parchment or sealing letter after letter with the signet ring upon his finger. Runners came frequently to Orla’s house to dispatch his messages or bring more. Spread out along the table was a never-ending list of things to do. As soon as he’d scratched one item off, he added two more.

In the afternoon, while Nesta and Maceo moved to the kitchen to eat, Eris winnowed away. They enjoyed honey drizzled on warm buns then a cup of tea with their feet up beside the fire. Of the three dogs who were in the house, two followed them for every crumb. She could only point out Safera whose coat was wholly black and Yenor, the youngest of the lot. The third one was male, with a lean flank. He stayed alert whilst his master was away, patrolling the room occasionally or peering through the window on his hind legs.

‘Was Eris so serious as a boy?’

‘Serious? Sometimes. Beron was tough on his boys. They were all very competitive with each other. But Eris could be a prankster in my classroom. More than once, did I find a frog in my glass. One time, he had me convinced that I was shrinking. Every evening, he stuck a disc of wood no thicker than a coin to each of the legs on my chair. It went on for days, the chair getting slightly taller until my legs couldn’t reach the floor.’

In between lessons, Maceo rewarded Nesta with stories about her hosts. Although she had found herself living alongside Eris and Orla, it made them more personable to hear about their younger selves. Five hundred years was a long time. All she knew about Cassian was that he’d been at Rhys’ side for five hundred years with no other purpose.

It still hurt to think of him. It was no longer the painful feeling of mourning of what they could have been. Nesta had been foolish to believe that there ever could have been a healthy relationship for them when their conversations were so sexually charged and their behaviour in the bedroom was always rough and frantic. Cassian hadn’t tried to learn her hobbies. Although Nesta trained, it was not her. They had little in common. They were not friends. Nesta could not say when his birthday was, his favourite place, his dislikes. He was an offshoot of Rhysand, the same as Azriel, the same as Mor – and even Feyre now. They were all Rhysand’s puppets, taught to bow and serve him. That was not her either.

Nesta could not imagine sitting on a couch in the Night Court with a tutor telling her about Rhysand’s family without him or Cassian growing defensive about it. Eris, who Nesta never thought she’d ever be alone with, took the time to say good morning to her, to make her toast for her – even if it was the easiest thing in the world to make, the fact he had done it, meant something to her. He’d waited for her before he ate, ensured she was seated before he sat, offered her tea before himself. Despite the rumours, Eris Vanserra was easy company.

When the male returned with rain curling the ends of his hair, he offered both her and Maceo a brief, but genuine smile. Yenor and Safera raced to him in excitement so he ensured he gave them both enough fuss before returning to the desk with another handful of letters.

She and Maceo returned to their conversation about the Cauldron. She had the sense that Maceo had wanted to ask her this question since he’d met her, but had finally bucked up the courage.

‘You are the only one I have met who has been so close to the Cauldron. If I could, would you tell me about it?’

‘I couldn’t feel anything from it at first. We were snatched from our beds. Rhysand had offered us a place in his city but my sister was engaged to a mortal male so I stayed because she stayed.’ Nesta inhaled. The terrible memories of that night flooded back to her so powerfully that she struggled to stay above them. They’d incapacitated Elain first, believing it might make Nesta more docile – but it only made her wild with fear. ‘I just kept thinking we would be killed – or worse. I didn’t even know what it was really until they forced Elain into it. It was barely ten seconds but I felt as if my whole world was cracking then it tipped her out and I saw what she’d become.’

Eris has stilled at the desk. He hadn’t looked over but Nesta knew he was listening to this too. She didn’t know how wildly known the story of her re-birth was.

‘I managed to get to her after Lucien realised Elain was his mate. I pushed him away. I didn’t want this life for any of us. You have to understand, we are taught to fear fae from birth. Then the king called for me to enter the Cauldron.’ Nesta remembered how long the moment had felt, how utterly desperate she was for a knife to be driven into her heart instead. It would have been a kindness. She still wished now that the time could be reversed and somebody would save her. She wished for anybody to save her. ‘I bucked and reared like an animal. My head hit someone’s jaw. I braced my feet either side of it, not wanting to go in because I could feel that pulse of power unlike anything I’d ever known.’

Maceo reached for her hand. He enclosed it within both of his own, patting it against his leg tenderly, offering her the opportunity to stop. But Nesta had never told this story. Nobody had ever wanted to know how it had been for her to be dragged from her bed and into this life. The Night Court were more concerned with Feyre's departure back to Spring. They hadn't stopped to offer Elain and Nesta the tenderness that they'd so desperately needed.

‘It was tremendous. A shuddering beast with no name. A force unreckoned. I don’t know how long it was for the others, but for me it felt like hours. Every bone in my body felt as if it had been shattered to be remade, like molten metal poured into my veins. It was an agony I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.’ Nesta laughed lightly. ‘But I haven’t been called cold and spiteful for nothing. I started to attack it from within. It showed me its heart and I clawed at it. I bit and scratched and fought with everything. We fell through the gaps of the world, through darkness and frost. The Cauldron… it was a presence not a place. A being that surrounded me, but it wanted me away from it. It feared me when I stole from it. And I almost didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to face that when I emerged, I would be fae.’

‘I am so sorry that happened to you,’ Eris said softly, from the other side of his room.

She ought to have scorned his pity. It was what she usually did when people offered kindness because Nesta knew if she accepted it, it would reveal the cracks within. But Eris’ expression was so earnest, so devastated by what he’d heard that Nesta thanked him for it instead. Her throat was thick as she said the words.

Even when she turned back to the tutor, Eris’ eyes were still trained on her like a guardian who would never leave his post.

Maceo inclined his head in thanks for her account. ‘Your fear of the fae was warranted. I cannot imagine the terror you had that night, Nesta.’

Proving that his polished manners were not just for show, Eris winnowed Maceo home when the rain continued pouring. Despite his absence, the flames continued burning to heat the room. He’d taken Yenor and Safera with him to give them a quick run out so Dami remained. The dog stalked the room once then sat upright beside Nesta as she read a book.

When the heir returned, it was with a massive bouquet of autumnal flowers, all reds, yellows, and oranges.

‘For you.’ He said it casually, but the brief smile made Nesta’s heart flutter.

‘What have I done to deserve these?’ No male had ever brought her flowers. She might have laughed if the village boys tried – but then flowers didn’t fill a hungry belly. If they had brought food for her family, she’d have been grateful.

Nesta had always wanted a male to surprise her with flowers because she was a romantic at heart.

The question had caused Eris’ smile to falter. ‘Cassian never showered you with flowers?’

‘I was never kind enough to him to warrant flowers.’

A warm hand slipped around her waist. ‘I’ll pretend you did not say that. He was the one dragging you through Illyria. He was the one who laughed when you fell down the stairs. Nesta, he was not a good partner to you – not in the way it counts. He is five hundred years older than you. Cassian should have been able to untangle himself from Rhysand. You should never have to earn flowers or love. It is something that is given freely.’

When Eris’ hand fell away, her body ached where he’d touched it. Their bodies remained close. Close enough that she could see the small flecks of brown in his amber eyes.

‘The Cauldron,’ he said quietly. ‘Does it still trouble you?’

It was an instinct to lie. To pretend that the Cauldron didn’t plague her dreams, that she did not wake choking as if she was still drowning in its depths.

Eris wasn’t like Cassian or Rhysand. This once, she could let herself be vulnerable.

‘Yes.’

A hand swept her hair back from her face making her skin tingle from the touch. The glow of the fire danced across Eris’ features. He should have been the villain. He should be the male she ran from, not the one she wanted to lean into. But this male hadn’t ever hurt her or mocked her.

‘Then I will be at your side through it all.’

Taglist:

@kitkat-writes-stuff @owllover123 @rarephloxes

#a court of tangled flames #neris

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starry-blue-echoes · 2 years

Note

Vampire Jotato + vampire Speedwagon aus

For pre-part 3, I've seen a Jotaro & Speedwagon dynamic I really like in a time-travel fic, where Speedwagon's like 'youre a Joestar! Of course I'm your friendly uncle who cares for you!' while Jotaro's feelings are best summed up as 'You Don't Know Me and have not unlocked that level of familiarity, fuck off.'

Then Jotaro gets turned, and Speedwagon is there for him.

Talking about what it's like, promising to stand by him for immortality, telling him about how maybe blood for transfusions that either expires or isn't a needed type or whatever is still good for vampires to get him to eat, and it's kind of smothering because Speedwagon's love for the Joestars knows no chill, but.

Jotaro still doesn't get along with Speedwagon incredibly well, but Speedwagon Gets It. And that's incredibly valuable for him.

Y e s s s s s s s s s

There’s also the addition of how Jotaro now has someone else to think of when he thinks of “vampire”

Being a vampire can be Dio with his cruelty, his manipulations, the countless lives he stole. It can be an enemy who laughs and mocks while refusing the stay down, who sucked the blood from his grandfather before his eyes, slaughtered his friends and nearly killed his mother

But being a vampire can also be Speedwagon, his weird, annoying but affectionate uncle who will stand by you even when you don’t want him to. It can be a man with over-the-top hats with saw blades in them, who always took night watch because he never needed sleep, using the longevity to protect the ones he loves for the rest of their lives so they never again have to experience life threatening danger

It also helps that Jotaro now won’t be alone. No matter how many people grow old around him, Speedwagon is going to remain a constant. They’re both ageless, and Speedwagon will be able to help Jotaro deal with the emotions surrounding outliving loved ones, see: Erina

Of course, it’s not perfect. Speedwagon and Jotaro are technically different “kinds” of vampires, with Speedwagon being turned from the Mask and Jotaro having been turned by a Mask Vampire, but they make it work

Jotaro probably won’t hate himself or his new nature as much any more. He’ll probably be less starved as well, since Speedwagon will be able to help him eat. It’ll probably take a while, and he’s not eating as much as he should, but it’s better than nothing

If we’re throwing in TC&TK, Tonio…… is still going to SUCK to deal with. Jotaro would still miss his humanity and would still eat the food, just not as often. He’d probably still spiral for a good long while which neither Speedwagon or even his mom could console him from and it would take a good LONG while before he’s eating again.

And then if we take it a step further and do the whole Italy trip…. I’m not sure if Speedwagon would go to Italy or not. On one hand he might still have issues regarding the whole Dio Situation, but on the other I think he’d have the sense to seek therapy help. Plus, I don’t think he’d want to leave Jotaro by himself for any possibly long stretch of time. DOUBLE plus he could also see it as “The body may have been under Dio’s control but this is still Jonathan’s biological child”

At the very least, Giorno is now going to have a very nice vampiric uncle who shows him the ropes and dotes on him unapologetically and without hesitation

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lorwolf-salt · 7 months

Note

The lead devs are completely silent, only one moderator posts (some of the mods haven’t been active for 3-5 months), the game has failed to live up to its promises and was clearly designed without longevity in mind. I’ve seen some people get upset when LW is called a cash grab, but has there been any indication it hasn’t been one? Hell, merch is the first thing you see when you open the site. Changing everything to MS expansions was just greedy. There’s a subscription service… for some reason. Less effort (compared to other petsites) is needed on the artists’ behalf, because players make basically all the apparel and generate MS revenue. And I’m going to put on my tinfoil hat for this one, but wolves’ breeding cooldowns are so low, I have to wonder if it was to quickly flood the site with nice wolves to buy + customize while there was still hype at launch. Either way, it feels like LW likes to dangle rewards above everyone’s head, which you can only get through excessive grinding (WW encounters and low success rate, 100 -> 50 knucklebones, earning MS naturally, professions, arena + weekly tickets, etc), and sometimes I think that’s their main strategy to keep people p(l)aying. If we can’t update the game or supply content, then let’s just make everything hard to achieve, so players are distracted while nothing’s actually getting done. Which isn’t working so well anymore.

I understand sites need to make money and I don’t have any inherent issue with sites doing most of these things, but I just have to ask, people who are continuing to financially support the site — is this worth it?

#long post

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knowledge-sharing · 7 months

Text

(1)Exchanges:How to choose the right platform

To break things down by which top priorities to consider, here are the most important factors that go into choosing where to trade:

Reputation

Safety and Security

Asset Selection

Customer Service

Trading Tools

Liquidity and Trading Volume

Other less important factors that also need to be considered according to each unique individual’s situation, include minimum deposits required, fees, company ethos, or even location. For example, some cryptocurrency platforms cannot cater to certain users from specific regions according to law.

Doing your own research into each platform is necessary to find the right platform tailored to suit your unique needs.

Reputation

This is subjective, but in the end, it is you that needs to be comfortable with the platform you have selected.

To learn more about each platform’s reputation, begin with Google search. Read the company Wikipedia entries, if they exist. Those that do have longevity will have more information available.

Many of these platforms offer thriving communities of their own, manage active sub-Reddits, and interact with users via social media.

Reviews of platforms can be helpful, but beware that many of these reviews are paid.

A company with a strong reputation will have a clear, transparent leadership team, a relatively low amount of user complaints (no one is perfect), and an active presence on social media.

Those without their own presence on social media should at least be the subject of positive chatter from other users on social media. Searching for hashtags related to each platform and more can be of major assistance.

Safety and Security

Security may be the most critical piece of any trading platform or crypto exchange. In 2018, the number of cryptocurrency related exchange hacks reached over $1 billion in lost customer funds.

Many of these platforms offered at least some level of security, however, hackers are becoming highly advanced and no platform is full proof. This is why the largest sums of cryptocurrencies should always remain stored in a cold storage wallet while any active trading funds remain on an exchange for easy access.

Security features include cryptographically hashed passwords, two factor authentication, address whitelisting, and numerous other failsafes.

Look for platforms that haven’t experienced hacks in the past, and always select from the most popular platforms whenever possible.

Asset Selection

Many platforms only offer Bitcoin trading, while others feature an extensive list of exotic altcoins that are far more speculation than actual use cases.

There are also now a number of trading platforms that offer cryptocurrencies alongside traditional assets such as commodities, forex, stock indices, and more. If traditional markets interest you as well, this type of multi-asset platform may be the ideal choice.

Customer Service

Issues with a cryptocurrency exchange or trading platform are rare, but when problems, questions, or concerns do arise, you want a platform that actually responds in a timely manner, and addresses any issues in a friendly, calm, and helpful capacity.

Trading Tools

As traders become more advanced and cryptocurrency users more comfortable with storing their assets on exchanges, eventually, trading tools tend to outweigh nearly all other aspects of any platform.

If it is a stop trading platform, at the bare minimum market, limit, and stop orders must be present. Margin trading platforms offer additional tools such as long or short potions, and leverage to amplify any return on investment.

Whether or not a platform offers built-in charting software or an API that connects with more advanced tools could be a deal breaker for many.

Liquidity and Trading Volume

Beyond trading tools, the more advanced a trader becomes, the more important a platform’s trading volume and liquidity becomes.

Platforms with very few users may promise low fees or other powerful tools, but without an ample amount of users buying and selling to add liquidity at a high enough volume, larger sized orders can drive up or down prices by cleaning out an order book.

Worse yet, low liquidity causes slippage, or leaves orders left unfilled. ————————————————————————————

#investor #investors #crypto #blockchain #ethereum #investment #btc #btcusd

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geekbar · 3 months

Text

Exploring the Miami Mint Geek Bar Pulse 15000 Puffs Disposable Vape

Miami Mint Geek Bar Pulse 15000 Puffs Disposable Vape

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And when it comes time to dispose of the Miami Mint Geek Bar Pulse 15000, you can do so responsibly knowing that it's made from recyclable materials. This not only reduces waste but also minimizes its environmental impact, making it a sustainable choice for eco-conscious vapers.

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#Miami Mint #vape #Geek Bar #Disposable Vape

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chris-heavens

he's a ghost story