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⚠️ WARNING: Maasverse Spoilers—Proceed with Caution ⚠️

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Part 1: Characters and Courts - YOU ARE HERE
Part 2: World Map, Items, Terms & Other

Well, here we go. A master list of all things ACOTAR + the "real" world.

I was a while into the series before I realized how well-versed ACOTAR is with our own world. So many parallels to not only names and their meanings, but dozens of tie-ins to various mythologies, folklore, and ancient/modern regions across the globe.
Look, I (mostly) enjoyed SJM's series from the start, but when this little factoid revealed itself—I was a goner. Hidden contextual cleverness, especially relating to ancient European folklore and mythology, will win me over every time.
Now, do I believe every single name and location on this list was chosen by SJM with a specific real-world allusion in mind? Of course not. But when you look at the similarities, you'd be hard pressed to deny some of their very probable relations.
As far as this list goes, I've provided what was within my ability to find—coupling each with that which made the most sense relationally—though several definitions would appear to have zero connection to the story at large.
I can't promise perfection or a full, exhaustive list of every single character, object, term, and/or mention. Heck, I can't even promise 100% accuracy with what is provided, though I did cross-reference the more obscure sources. But what I hope, is that you find something new and delightful to a beloved series you hadn't realized before. Little tidbits and morsels that make these kinds of connections all the more exciting. And I will gladly (delightedly . . . exuberantly!) welcome any missing pieces and/or additional insight you may have.
\Note: If a character or place/item is minor enough, I've included a reminder of their role in the books.*

SO. Come on, friends. Let's dive on in.

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UK + IRELAND

PRYTHIAN

A combination of Prydain, the old Welsh name for Britain, and Brython, which translates to “Ancient Britons” from Welsh.

HYBERN

A riff of Hibernia, the Classical Latin name for Ireland.

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Artist of Prythian map: P-dulcis on redbubble

*A continuing list of world map related locations is provided in Part 2 of this post (see link above)

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MAIN CHARACTERS

RHYSAND

Rhys (also Rhŷs), used as both a forename and surname, is Welsh in origin and means "ardent, enthusiasm." It has deep roots in Welsh culture and is the name of several famous Welsh kings and noblemen, including Rhys ap Thomas, a Welsh soldier and landholder who rose to prominence during the Wars of the Roses.

FEYRE ARCHERON

Feyre, a variant of Fayre, is Old English in origin and means "fair, beautiful." Similar connections lie in Freyja (also spelled Freya) which is a name of Old Norse origin and means "Lady," denoting a woman of nobility. Freyja is a goddess in Norse mythology, associated with love and beauty, fertility and sex, and war and seiðr (magic for seeing and influencing the future).
In Greek mythology, Archeron is one of the five rivers of the Underworld—the River of Woe or River of Misery. It is often deemed the principal river where Charon ferried the souls of the dead.

CASSIAN

Cassian is of Latin and Irish origin and means "son of Cassius" and refers to one of the oldest families in Rome. Arguably the most well-known Cassius was the Roman senator best known as a leading instigator of the assassination plot of Julius Caesar.

AZRIEL

Azriel is of Hebrew origin meaning "God is my help." In some religious, Azrael is the benevolent angel of death who carries souls of the deceased to the afterlife.

MORRIGAN

The Morrígan is a renowned Celtic goddess associated with war and fate. Her name has been translated to mean "great queen" or "phantom queen." She has been seen as a manifestation of the earth- and sovereignty-goddess, representing the role as guardian of the territory and its people.

AMREN

Amren is said to be a twist on Amram, which is of Hebrew origin and means "exalted people" and is the Biblical name of Moses' father. Note: This is in line with Amren being able to interpret The Book of Breathings, which is a twist on The Books of Breathing, a collection of several real-world ancient Egyptian funerary texts.

NESTA ARCHERON

Nesta is the Welsh version of Agnes, which means "pure or holy." May also have potential connections with Nestor, a legendary king in Greece, who was known as a great warrior and for the wise advice he offered to younger soldiers.
In Greek mythology, Archeron is one of the five rivers of the Underworld—the River of Woe or River of Misery. It is often deemed the principal river where Charon ferried the souls of the dead.

ELAIN ARCHERON

Elain is Welsh in origin and translates to "fawn." Elaine, associated with the Greek name Helen, means "light" or "bright one."
In Greek mythology, Archeron is one of the five rivers of the Underworld—the River of Woe or River of Misery. It is often deemed the principle river where Charon ferried the souls of the dead.
Fun fact: Elain is an anagram of "Aelin."

NYX

Nyx is the Greek mythological goddess and personification of the Night. She is the offspring of Chaos and the Mother of Day (Hemera) and Darkness (Erebus). She lies at the ends of the Earth, and is often described as a black-robed goddess who drives through the sky in a chariot pulled by horses. In ancient Greek art, she often appears alongside other celestial deities such as Selene, Helios, and Eos.

ILLYRIAN CHARACTERS

EMERIE

Emerie means "home strength," "brave," and "powerful" in Old German.

ENALIUS

Likely from Enyalius/Enyalios, who, in Greek mythology, was a son of Ares, but was also a byname for the god of war. Enyalius is often seen as the god of soldiers and warriors from the Ares cult.

DEVLON

Devlon is Irish and Gaelic in origin, related to the name Devlin, and means "fierce courage."

BALTHAZAR

Balthazar is Akkadian in origin meaning "God protects the King." Commonly attributed to the wise man who gifted myrrh to the Christ child, which symbolized the future death of a king. It is an alternate form of King Belshazzar, who played a pivotal role in a coup d'état that overthrew a Neo-Babylonion king.
ACOTAR role: Balthazar is an Illyrian who aided Nesta in the Blood Rite.

PROTEUS

Proteus is an early prophetic sea god in Greek mythology. His name comes from the adjective protean, meaning "versatile," "mutable," or "capable of assuming many forms." He is generally regarded as the son of the sea-god Poseidon.
ACOTAR role: Proteus is Emerie's abusive father who was slain during the War with Hybern.

BELLIUS

Bellius may refer to Belus, the Babylonian god of war.
ACOTAR role: Bellius is Emerie's cousin who was killed by Cassian in the Blood Rite.

KALLON

No clear references found, but kalon in Ancient Greek translates to "ideal perfect beauty in the physical and moral sense" and kalon kakon refers to the first created woman as a "beautiful-evil thing."
ACOTAR role: Kallon stirred animosity towards the Night Court leaders after the War with Hybern and was ultimately killed during the Blood Rite.

HEWN CITY CHARACTERS

KEIR

Keir is a Gaelic name meaning "dark" and is related to the Irish name Ciarán meaning "little dark one" or "little dark-haired one." In Greek mythology, the Keres—the singular form being Ker—were female death spirits who personified violent death. There is a suggested connection between the Keres and the Valkyries of Norse mythology, each representing opposite ideals; the Valkyries being benevolent deities in death versus the Keres being feasting destruction.

THANATOS

Thanatos was the personification of death in Greek mythology. He is a minor figure, often referred to but rarely appearing in person (I see what you did there, SJM).
ACOTAR role: Thanatos is a High Fae lord who lives in the Hewn City. Keir briefly mentions Thanatos before leaving the meeting where Eris strikes an alliance with the Night Court.

LIBRARY CHARACTERS

CLOTHO

Clotho is the youngest goddess of the Three Fates in ancient Greek mythology, who spins the thread of human life. The name can mean "spinner."

MERRILL

Merrill is of British origin and means "sparking sea" or "sea-bright."

GWYNETH BERDARA

Gwyneth is of Welsh origin and means "blessed" and "happiness." In Irish mythology, the Lady Gwyn is a headless woman (Catrin, anyone?) dressed in white who chases wanderers at night. In Arthurian mythology, Guinevere had an evil half-sister—the "False Guinevere"—who bewitches Arthur and turns him against the real Guinevere.
The Berdara surname is found in Indonesia and roughly translates to "bloody."

ANANKE

Ananke is of Greek origin and means "necessity" or "fate personified." In Greek mythology, she is one of the primordial deities, considered to be the most powerful dictator of fate and circumstance, and is the personification of necessity and inevitability.
ACOTAR role: Ananke is a priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

DEIRDRE

Deirdre is of Irish and Gaelic origin and means "broken-hearted," "sorrowful," or "wanderer." The name is also associated with a tragic heroine in Irish mythology.
ACOTAR role: Deirdre is a priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

ILANA

Illana is of Hebrew origin and means "tree" or "bright light." If related to the name Ileana, she is connected to various mythologies describing a beautiful young female fairy. Ileana also stems from the name Elena.
ACOTAR role: Ilana is a priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

LORELEI

Lorelei is of German origin and means "alluring, temptress." In German folklore, she was a siren-type seductress that led sailors to hazardous rocks.
ACOTAR role: Lorelai is a priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

ROSLIN

Roslin is Scottish in origin and means "rose" and "red-haired."
ACOTAR role: Roslin is a priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

RIVEN

Riven derives from Old Norse meaning "to split, tear apart."
ACOTAR Role: Riven is a Priestess who is uncomfortable with strangers and whose background is unknown.

SIDE CHARACTERS

MADJA

Majda is of Slavic origin and may mean "splendid, noble one." In Arabic, it means "the woman with glory." It is related to the name Madeleine, which is Greek in Origin and means "from Magdala"

NUALA

Nuala is of Irish origin and means "fair shouldered one." In modern Irish storytelling, it means "born of the sea." It is considered a diminutive form of the name Fionnuala, a mythological figure of Irish mythology who was the daughter of a sea god.

CERRIDWEN

Ceridwen was an enchantress in Welsh mythology. Welsh poetry refers to her as possessing the cauldron of poetic inspiration and is regarded by many as the Celtic goddess of rebirth, transformation, and inspiration.

RITA

Rita stems from the name Margarita and in Latin comes from the Greek word meaning "pearl." It has been claimed that the Greeks promoted pearls as a symbol of honesty and integrity. In Greek mythology they are said to be the tears of Aphrodite, the goddess of love.

SEVENDA

No clear connection found, though venda in Latin means "sell", sev means "strew, scatter, spread," and enda means "end." Could also somehow be related to the number seven.
ACOTAR role: Sevenda owns a restaurant in Velaris the Inner Circle frequents.

NEVE

Neve is of Latin and Irish origins and means "snow."
ACOTAR role: Neve is the jeweler in Velaris from whom Rhys buys Amren her jewelry in A Court of Frost and Starlight.

POLINA

Polina has Latin origins and is derived from the name Apollo, though it could also be seen as a variant of Paulina, a feminine form of Paul, meaning "little" or "the younger."
ACOTAR role: Polina owned Feyre's studio before her death during Hybern's attack in Velaris.

RESSINA

Resin comes from the Latin word resina, which derives from the Greek word for "resin of the pine." Plants secrete resins for the protective benefits in response to injury, protecting them from insects and pathogens (conjures an image of Ressina standing outside her shop, protecting the terrified fae huddled inside from a group of Hybern soldiers).
ACOTAR role: Ressina is a lesser-faerie resident of Velaris who opens an art studio with Feyre.

ARANEA

Aranea is of Ancient Greek origin and denotes a genus of orb-weaving spiders.
Fun fact: Aranea is one of Charlotte's daughters in Charlotte's Web.
ACOTAR role: Aranea is a High Fae in Velaris, a weaver (get it? orb-weaving spiders?) who creates the Void cloth used in a tapestry Feyre ultimately purchases.

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MAIN CHARACTERS

TAMLIN

From "The Ballad of Tam Lin," a legendary ballad from the borderlands of Scotland.
Reminiscent of the fairytale Beauty & the Beast, where a mortal woman encounters a man in a forbidden forest after plucking a rose. She finds herself pregnant, seeks him out again, and learns he is captive to the faeries. To save him, she must hold onto him as he is transformed into a variety of beasts or other types of danger. After his rescue, the Queen of the Faeries laments that she should have taken out his eyes (Lucien, anyone?) or captured his heart (Tamlin's stone heart, to be specific) to prevent his escape.

LUCIEN

Lucien is French in origin and means "light," and Lucian of Samosata was a Hellenized Syrian satirist, rhetorician, and pamphleteer who was best-known for his tongue-in-cheek style. The majority of his extant works are written in Ancient Greek. He is the inventor of the comic dialogue genre.

ALIS

Alis is of German, French, and English origin. Translates to "noble."

SIDE CHARACTERS

IANTHE

Ianthe is Greek in origin and means "she who delights." In Greek mythology, she was one of the 3,000 water-nymph daughters of Oceanus and was one of the companions of Persephone when abducted by Hades.

ANDRAS

Andras has Greek and Hungarian roots and means "man", or "warrior." In Welsh, it means "manly" and "brave."

BRON

Bron is Old English and Dutch in origin and means "brown" or "spring/water source."
ACOTAR role: Bron is one of Tamlin's named sentinels.

HART

Hart is an Anglicized version of an Irish name meaning "hero," "brave," and "firm." A hart is also a male deer. In Celtic mythology, the white hart is said to be a messenger from the otherworld and would appear when one was transgressing a taboo (Tamlin's punishing of his sentry seems taboo enough to me).
ACOTAR role: Hart is one of Tamlin's named sentinels.

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MAIN CHARACTERS

BERON VANSERRA

Beron is French/South German in origin and is a pet form of the name Bero, meaning "bear."
Vanserra is a combination of the prefix Van, meaning "from" or "of," and Serra, meaning "saw/a view from a high place" in Latin or "mountain range" in Catalan/Portugues/Galician. Vanserra can be said to mean "of the mountain range."

ERIS VANSERRA

Eris is a feminine name of Greek origin and means "strife." In Ancient Greek mythology, Eris was the greek goddess of strife and discord. Her Roman equivalent, Discordia, was seen as the goddess of chaos. She has been associated with the war-goddess Enyo, who is frequently associated with the war-god Ares.
Vanserra is a combination of the prefix Van, meaning "from" or "of," and Serra, meaning "saw/a view from a high place" in Latin or "mountain range" in Catalan/Portugues/Galician. Vanserra can be said to mean "of the mountain range."

SIDE CHARACTERS

JESMINDA

Jesminder is Indian in origin and means "queen of flower."

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MAIN CHARACTERS

TARQUIN

Tarquin is of Latin origin and means "Ancient Roman ruler" or "strong soldier." Two of the seven legendary kings of Rome bear the name Tarquinius and were known as Tarquin the Elder and Tarquin the Proud.

VARIAN

Varian is of Latin origin and means "variable."

CRESSEIDA

Cressida means "golden" and is derived from the name Chryseis. She is a character associated with the Trojan war who becomes the archetype of a faithless lover.

SIDE CHARACTERS

NOSTRUS

Nostrum comes from the Latin noster, meaning "our" or "ours." Nostos is a theme in Ancient Greek literature, including an epic hero returning home, often by sea. It was deemed a high level of heroism or greatness. It is not only about returning home physically, but focuses on the hero retaining or elevating their identity and resisting temptation.
ACOTAR role: Nostrus was Tarquin's predecessor; the High Lord of the Summer Court killed by Amarantha at the beginning of her reign Under the Mountain. He participated in an attempted rebellion and he and his entire family were slain.

BRUTIUS

Brutius may refer to the Latin name Brutus meaning "heavy/dull."
ACOTAR role: Brutius was Tarquin's cousin who attempted an escape Under the Mountain with plans for rebellion before being mercifully killed by Rhysand.

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MAIN CHARACTERS

HELION

Helios is the Ancient Greek god who personifies the Sun. He is often depicted with a solar crown and drives a horse-drawn chariot through the sky. He was a guardian of oaths and the god of sight and played a significant role in ancient magic and spells. He is often described as the son of the Titans Hyperion and Theia, and is brother of the goddesses Selene (the moon) and Eos (the dawn).

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MAIN CHARACTERS

KALLIAS

Callias is of Greek origin and means "beauty" or "beautiful voice." Callias II was an Ancient Greek statesman, solider, and diplomat and was one of the richest men in Athens.

VIVIANNE

Vivienne derives from the French Viviana, meaning "lively," and comes from the Latin word Vivianus meaning "alive." It is commonly associated with the Irish name Bébinn meaning "beautiful or fair woman" and is also the name of an underworld goddess in both Irish and Welsh mythology.

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THESAN

Thesan is the Etruscan goddess of the dawn, divination, and childbirth and was associated with the generation of Life. Greeks identified her with Eos, the goddess and personification of the Dawn. She was sometimes depicted bearing a pair of wings on her back.

NUAN

Nuan is Mandarin in origin and means "warm, genial."
ACOTAR role: Nuan is the creator of Lucien's metal eye.

THE PEREGRYN

The peregrine is a large crow-sized falcon renowned for its speed.
Fun fact: The peregrine falcon is the fastest member of the animal kingdom and can reach speeds of over 200mph during its high-speed hunting dive.

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AMARANTHA

Amarantha is of Greek origin and means "unfading." The Amaranthus flower is said to symbolize immortality as it blooms for so long and is often deep red in color.

BRANNAGH

Brannagh is of Irish origin, comes from the word bran meaning "raven," and denotes a "beautiful female with hair as dark as a raven."

DAGDAN

The Dagda is considered the chief god of the Tuatha Dé Danaan in Irish mythology. His name can mean "the good god" or "the great god."

CLYTHIA

Likely refers to Clytia/Clytie, a water nymph from Greek mythology who loved the sun god Helios in vain. Helios left her for another woman, a princess, under the influence of Aphrodite. Clytia revealed the affair to the princesses' daughter, but eventually lost herself as a violet flower in mourning for Helios's love. Her name means "glorious" or "renowned."
ACOTAR role: Clythia is Amarantha's sister who fell for Jurian's ploy as a lover.

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HISTORICAL FIGURES

THEIA

Theia is of Greek origin and means "goddess, godly." Theia is one of the twelve Titans and is the Greek goddess of sight and vision. With her brother-consort, she is a parent of Helios (the Sun), Selene (the Moon), and Eos (the Dawn). She is most known not for her own role, but for that of her children's.

SILENE

Selene is the goddess and personification of the moon, daughter of the Titans Hyperion and Theia, and sister of the sun god Helios and dawn goddess Eos.

HELENA

Helene comes from the Greek name Helen and means "shining light." Helen of Troy was of Greek mythology and said to be the most beautiful women in all the world, her abduction being the start of the Trojan War; Helen was a figure in Greek mythology who was a friend of Aphrodite and helped her seduce Adonis; and there was an Amazonian Helene who fought Achilles and died after she was seriously wounded by him.
Fun fact: Variants of Helene include Elena.

FIONN

Fionn is of Irish origin and means "fair-haired." In Irish folklore, Fionn Mac Cumhaill was a mythological hero was a leader of a band of young roving hunter-warriors who acquired immense amounts of wisdom by catching the "fish of knowledge."

PELIAS

Pelias is Greek in origin and means "rock pigeon." In Greek mythology, Pelias was the king of Iolcus who sent Jason on the quest for the Golden Fleece and was father to Medusa. Separately, Peleus was the king of Phthia, husband of Thetis, and father to Achilles. Peleus left several dead (men and women) in his wake, through means of both accident and betrayal, and fled more than once to escape punishment.

OLEANNA

Oleanna is from the Greek name Helene meaning "sun ray" or "shining light."
Fun fact: Additional variants of Helene include Elena.
ACOTAR role: Oleanna is the High Priestess who created Gwydion and imbued its powers by dipping it into the Cauldron.

REPORTED DECEASED

CATRIN BERDARA

Catrin is of Greek origin and means "clean," "clear," or "pure." Commonly used in Wales. Connected with the ancient goddess Hecate. Hecate is the goddess of magic, crossroads, witchcraft, sorcery, ghosts, and necromancy.
The Berdara surname is found in Indonesia and roughly translates to "bloody."

MINOR CHARACTERS

TANWYN

Tanwyn, with the feminine form Tanwen, is of Welsh origin and means "white fire."
ACOTAR role: Tanwyn was a Valkyrie and Cassian's former lover who was slain in the War.

OSIAN

Osian is Welsh, meaning "young deer" and is derived from the Irish legendary poet and warrior Oisín. Oisín was regarded as the greatest poet of Ireland, a warrior of the Fianna (small warrior-hunter bands), and a demigod son of Fionn Mac Cumhaill and Sadhbh.
ACOTAR role: Osian is the author of A Brief History of the Great Sieges, a book Nesta requests from the House of Wind.

RABATH

Rabath is an anagram of Bharat, one of the names from India derived from the Sanskrit word bharata meaning "to bear, carry, to be maintained," specifically of fire. It also can mean "one who is engaged in search of knowledge."
ACOTAR role: Rabath, aka Lord of the Western Wind, is an ancestor of the priestess Merrill.
Fun fact: In Greek mythology, Zephyrus is the god and personification of the West wind.

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JURIAN

Jurian is Greek in origin and means "farmer, earthworker."

GRAYSEN

Graysen is of English origin and translates to "son of the steward" or "son of the gray-haired man."

NOLAN

Nolan is of Irish origin and denotes "a child of nobility" or "champions."
ACOTAR role: Nolan is Graysen's father.

ISAAC HALE

Isaac is Hebrew in origin and means "one who laughs or rejoices".
Hale is Old English in origin and, as a surname, denoted someone who lived in a hollow or nook.

TOMAS MANDRAY

Tomas is Aramaic in origin meaning "twin."
Maynard is a compound of the Old German words for "hardy" and "strength."

CLARE BEDDOR

Clare is of French origin and means "bright" or "clear."'
Beddor, no information found.

AUNT RIPLEIGH

Ripleigh is an Old English name meaning "shouting man's meadow" and is related to the name "Ripley" meaning "strip of clearing in the woods" or "striped meadow."
ACOTAR role: Aunt Ripleigh is the invented aunt Feyre cares for in ACOTAR.

Ms. Laurent

Laurent is a French name of Latin origin and means "from Laurentum" and "bay laurel." It can also be derived from Old Greek, meaning "the bright one, the shining one."
ACOTAR role: Ms. Laurent is the house-keeper of the mortal Archeron Estate.

BRIAR

Briar is of British origin and means "thorny bush of wild roses" or "brambles."
ACOTAR role: Briar is the human girl saved by Azriel and Feyre when rescuing Elain from the Cauldron.

URSTIN

No plausible connections found. Potentially an anagram for Rustin, an English name meaning "Rust's estate," or Surtin, a Middle English name meaning "reliable, trustworthy."
ACOTAR role: Urstin is a cousin to the Archerons via their mother who lives on the Continent. Nesta's pleas to Urstin for financial aid after their mother died went unanswered.

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HUMAN QUEENS

VASSA

Vasilissa is of Greek origin and means "queen" or "empress." Vasilissa is also the name of a chid martyr who, according to legend, was tortured with fire and wild beasts. She remained faithful to Christ, was left unharmed, but after her release was slain in a field as she prayed.

BRIALLYN

Briallen is primarily of Welsh origin and means "primrose." Primrose comes from the Latin word meaning "first" and the primrose flower often represents youth and renewal (SJM, you dog—this may be my favorite tongue-in-cheek naming thing you did).
ACOTAR role: Briallyn was the first queen to be dunked in the Cauldron and was subsequently withered into an immortal old woman.

DEMETRA

Demetra is Greek in origin and means "follower of Demeter." Demeter was the Ancient Greek goddess of the harvest, an emblem of growth, nature, and the fertility of the earth, and the mother of Persephone.
ACOTAR role: Demetra is the golden queen who provided the queens' half of the Book of Breathings and was impaled by the Attor in Velaris.

ANDROMACHE

Andromache means "fighter of men" and is Greek in origin. In Greek mythology she was first the wife of Hector and was famous for her virtue and fidelity. She is representative of the suffering of Trojan women during the war. Andromache was also the name of a famous Greek Amazon who fell at Troy. An ancient bust depicts her fighting Heracles.
ACOTAR role: Andromache was a human queen and Mor's lover.

FAE CHARACTERS

DRAKON

Drakon is of Greek origin and means "dragon."

NEPHELLE

Nephele, meaning "cloud, mass of clouds," is a cloud nymph in Greek mythology and is considered the cloud goddess of hospitality, generosity, loyalty, peace and shyness.

THE SERAPHIM

A seraph is a celestial/heavenly being, regarded as belonging to the highest order of the angels in Christian angelology and fifth of ten in the Jewish angelic hierarchy.

HUMAN CHARACTERS

MIRYAM

Miryam/Miriam is of Hebrew origin and means "sea of bitterness" or "sea of sorrow." In the Bible, she is the daughter of Amram and Jochebed and the sister of Aaron and Moses.

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MAIN CHARACTERS

THE SURIEL

Suriel is a Hebrew name meaning "God's prince" and "divine authority." Could also reference Sariel, an angel from Judaic tradition who is one of seven holy angels. He is considered to be a primordial power is invoked for his protective powers.

ATTOR

Possibly an altered form of the German "Tatter" meaning "goblin" or "puppet." As an Anglo-Saxon name, it means "venom."
Likely based off the Ahool/Athol, a winged bat or cryptid-like creature said to originate from the jungles of Indonesia.

DEATH GODS

THE BONE CARVER

Self-explanatory, folks.

STRYGA AKA THE WEAVER

Strzyga is a female demon in Slavic mythology similar to a vampire, stemming from the mythological Strix in Ancient Greece, who were birds of ill omen that fed on human flesh and blood, but also referred to witches and other evil folkloric creatures.

KOSCHEI

Koschei is a common villain in East Slavic tales. He is often given the epithet of "the Immortal" or "the Deathless." Many tales insinuate he "hides" his death inside nested objects to protect it. He is considered the parallel male figure of Baby Yaga. He often takes the role of a malevolent rival figure who competes —or entraps—a male hero's love interest.
Fun fact: In Silver Flames, Koschei captures Eris and speaks in the singular 'you' (this is noted in translation for foreign editions) to Azriel when he claims, "I spent so many months preparing for you." To go down that crackpot theory post, click HERE.

PRISON INMATES

BRYAXIS

Bryaxis was a famous Ancient Greek sculptor who is known for his creation of sculptures on the mausoleum of Maussollos. The name may mean "delight" or "lust."

LANTHYS

No information/connections found (I know, it's killing me, too—there's got to be SOMETHING).

LUBIA

The lubia/ljubi is a water and storm demon in Albanian mythology, usually depicted as a large multi-headed (anywhere from 7 to 100 heads) female serpentine dragon. She causes waters to dry up unless a virgin is sacrificed to her; her irresistible taste for flesh leans towards that of little girls.
ACOTAR role: Seven-headed Lubia is a creature who preys on females. Cassian banishes her to the Prison.

ANNIS

The Black Annis is a bogeyman in English folklore. She is depicted as a blue-faced witch or hag, has iron claws, and has a taste for human flesh, especially that of children.
ACOTAR role: Annis aka Blue Annis is one of the creatures Cassian imprisons in the Prison. Cassian has a thick scar on his left chest from her.

VESPERUS

In Greek mythology, Hesperus is the Evening Star, her Roman equivalent being named Vesper.
ACOTAR role: Vesperus is the female Daglan/Asteri Bryce, Azriel, and Nesta discover beneath the Prison in House of Flame and Shadows.

MINOR CHARACTERS

MIDDENGARD WYRM

Midgard is the Middle Earth, the body of mankind in Norse mythology. It is the realm of human beings—ie, Earth.
Wrym is an Old English variant of the word used to refer to dragons with 'wormlike' qualities (long body, legless or with small legs). The word derives from the Old Norse word 'ormr' which referred to Germanic dragons/worms.

THE BOGGE

Bogge is a Middle English word meaning "frightening spectre," from which the term bogeyman originated. Bogeymen have no specific appearance and conceptions vary drastically by culture.
Fun fact: The term bogeyman is related to the boggart, another supernatural being from English folklore, and is 'a generic name for an apparition' of 'any ambivalent or evil' spirit (Harry Potter facts, yo).

NAGA

Throughout various Asian religious traditions, nagas are a divine/semi-diving race of half-human, half-serpent beings that reside in the netherworld.
Fun fact: A female naga is called a Nagi or a Nagini (more HP facts).

MARTAX

Likely references a manticore, a Persian mythological creature similar to the Egyptian sphinx that was also largely present in Western Medieval art. The mercenary in ACOTAR Ch 3 describes it with a "body big as a bear's, head something like a lion's—and three rows of teeth sharper than a shark's." A manticore has the body of a lion, head of a man, tail of a scorpion, and eats its victims whole with three rows of teeth. The term "manticore" descends via Latin from Ancient Greek.

PUCA

Púca is Irish for "spirit" or "ghost, while puca is Old English for "goblin". They were said to be shape-changers that could take the shapes of various animals and even men.

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https://preview.redd.it/saqpma3dc90d1.png?width=840&format=png&auto=webp&s=09ab0ee2ab74fb6a19ab05b5021ce3de87e60b82
MEALLAN

Meallán is of Irish origin and means "small pleasant one."
ACOTAR role: Meallan is Helion's black pegasus.

ELLIA

Ellia is of various origins but can translate to "other" or "beauty fairy maiden" with hints of the "Otherworld."
ACOTAR role: Ellia is Morrigan's horse in A Court of Frost and Starlight.

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For Part 2: World Map, Items, Terms & Other, click HERE

By Juan Diego Velasquez
Mateo Muñoz
Juanjose moreno
Grade: 9°2
Today we are going to talk about the characters of Moving Castle and how for me I need to express them a little more, this work created by Studio Ghibli and written by Diana Wynne Jones, this is a very good movie but today we come to talk about the characters, the main character. It's Sophie and the other protagonist is Howl who is the owner of the moving castle and we have a demon called Calcifer who is in charge of moving the castle and then there are the secondary characters like Marco Turnip Head, Turnip Head, this one I think. It had an unexpected ending but that in the end in the rest of the film he had several appearances in which he was helping the characters but I think we could have investigated more about what happened to him and how he ended up doing the same with Marco which appears in Howl's castle as a helper but they don't show us how she got there, the villain is the witch of the wasteland who is a good character but she could have given us more of her role as a villain, they tell us that she loved Howl and that's why she followed him but that is not the reason, the reason is that there is a moment in the movie in which the villain fell into a trap that left her in bad shape and that makes the character fall since being a villain or better yet, such a powerful witch leaves a bad taste in mouth that howl I think it's very well done it has its concerns that feel real which is good and sophie I would have liked them to tell us more about their past that's all about the characters
The main theme of this part of the review is the animation and the music, without many twists due to the story and how Sofie visits many places with many types of backgrounds, you can appreciate in a fantastic way how the animation is capable of doing things incredible with the 2d to the point that sometimes you don't know if they used gci, it is majestic without any doubt, this was achieved with the incredible ghibli animation team and its director hayao miyazaki, a well-known man in the industry and who definitely He is the genius behind every detail of water, sky and fire, with a character completely made of fire, the music is incredible despite having about 3 songs in total, they are all enjoyable and are played at the right time, to knowing when there is something wrong, something uncomfortable or something beautiful, all this is possible thanks to the music director: Joe Hisaishi, who with a small team was able to make 3 works which were highlighted by time and remained recorded in the memory of all the people. Anyway, there are many reasons to praise this movie but if I can highlight one in particular it would be how beautiful it is, I haven't seen such beautiful things in a long time, the attention to detail is incredible.
A Beutiful movie to watch in family.
Howl's Moving Castle is a film that stands out for its engrossing story and exquisite animation, distinctive marks of Studio Ghibli. The movie is an adaptation of Diana Wynne Jones's book "Howl's Moving Castle" and was directed by the legendary Hayao Miyazaki.
The plot centers around Sophie, a young woman working in a hat shop who, after an encounter with the mysterious wizard Howl, is cursed to become an old woman. Determined to break the spell, Sophie embarks on a magical adventure, finding allies like the fire demon Calcifer and the wizard's apprentice Markl. Together, they inhabit Howl's moving castle, a marvel of magical engineering that moves and changes shape.
The animation of the film is simply spectacular, with meticulous details and landscapes that come to life, reflecting melancholy and hope in Sophie's eyes. The characters are charismatic and complex, each with their own vulnerabilities and strengths, adding depth to the narrative.
Moreover, the film addresses profound themes such as self-love, war, and redemption, presented in a way that will resonate with both children and adults. The soundtrack perfectly complements the magical yet dense atmosphere of the film.
In summary, "Howl's Moving Castle" is a masterpiece that combines boundless fantasy with a sincere reflection on the human condition, all wrapped up in animation that is a true visual treat. It is a film that deserves to be seen and revisited, a testament to the art of storytelling through animated cinema
(Thank you for reading)
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Decant Reviews Part II: The Revenge! This batch came to me from the most excellent u/Hype_Moments, who thoughtfully reached out to me to inform me of his services after I expressed dismay at my inability to obtain samples directly from Montagne. The decants arrived promptly and packaged securely enough to withstand a nuclear blast! I also appreciate the attention to detail when it comes to labeling: matching Montagne's font and including the notes makes the sampling process feel very deluxe. Great experience, would order again!
On to the fragrances. Unless stated otherwise, I have not smelled the inspiration fragrances, so I am judging these on their own merit. For your reference, I typically prefer unisex fragrances, but I decided to roll the dice and included three feminine scents this time. I'm 29, and I work in both office and classroom environments. Let's get into it!
Eau Vanille: This one is not for everyone, but it's definitely for me. The rich, deep vanilla combined with the guiac wood and incense smells like going to mass at a grand Cathedral. Sophisticated, solemn, mysterious. I imagine that Notre Dame smells like this on Good Friday. Honestly, it kind of reminds me of my confirmation. I swear, the oil the bishop puts on your (greasy, 13-year-old) forehead smells a lot like this. That said, I love this because it reminds me of a positive moment in my faith formation, but it may evoke complex or negative reactions in others. The incense calms down after a couple of hours, which allows the vanilla to shine. Definitely not too sweet, and reads straightforwardly unisex to me. If you're a vanilla-lover looking for something a bit different with some oomph, this could be for you. Maybe not the best choice for the heat of summer, but I will be looking to purchase the full bottle come autumn. Would wear to my arch-rival's funeral.
Strawberry Milk: The wildcard of the bunch. I did not think I was going to like this because I thought it was going to be extremely juvenile and sickly sweet. I ordered it out of pure curiosity after hearing about the ungodly sums folks were shelling out to get their hands on a bottle. While it's definitely a sweet gourmand, it's not syrupy sweet. It's kind of fruity and powdery and just a bit herbal. There's something in here that comes off a little minty to my nose, which is baffling considering the notes. I'm not getting anything particularly strawberry-like, though. Maybe a hint of something lactonic, like malted milk powder, and a burnt-sugar note that could be caramel. Very wearable if you like sweet scents. Not obtrusive, kind of like if you gave a your-skin-but-better scent some moxie. Certainly not your typical celebrity scent. I could see a lot of women liking this. The longevity wasn't the best on this one, though: I think I got about four hours out of it. I'm not personally in love with it, but I'm glad I tried it.
Pink Rose Exclusif: Good Lord, y'all. This THE hot girl perfume. The most attractive woman you can think of probably wears this. It's a really beautiful, sweet, creamy, powdery rose wrapped in a veil of incense and supported by vanilla and woody notes in the base. There's some fruitiness in there too, particularly in the opening. Despite the powderiness and incense, it's quite edible smelling; like a fruity sponge cake that's also drenched in rose syrup, served immediately after the Confirmation service (callback!). I recognize this scent because I have encountered it in the wild on women wearing Delina Exclusif or its dupes, and it definitely... affects me, shall we say. This will turn heads for sure. It also lasts forever with excellent projection. I put on 3 sprays, wore it all day, went to sleep, and then my pillow and sheets smelled like Pink Rose Exclusif for DAYS, just from coming into contact with my arm. You absolutely do not need much of this. As much as I love it, I'm on the fence about whether to buy it, because I'm not sure how often I would actually wear it. It's a little more femme than my personal style usually calls for, imo. Plus, I'm not sure I want all the attention this would garner. That said, it's a 10/10 frag, I'd go for it today if I were single and ready to mingle. UPDATE: After writing this review, I got the opportunity to test the OG in-store, and I can confirm that this is a 1 to 1 dupe. I don't detect any difference whatsoever. Nice work, Montagne!
Pink Rose: This one humbled me. I had already tried the Exclusif version, and figured this was the more wearable, daytime version. I did my normal application (1 spray each on wrists & inner elbows, 2 sprays on the neck, 1 on the front of my shirt) and then headed to the office. When my coworker told me I smelled good from 6 feet away, I knew I had overdone it. I was smelling this all day long, from the 8:30 AM application until bed time. And not just little whiffs here and there, I'm talking constant presence in my olfactory organ. A little distracting, if I'm honest. Luckily, it's a beautiful fragrance. Florals are hit or miss for me, but I have a soft spot for rose. Whereas the Exclusif smells like rose dessert, this smells like a living rose growing fresh and vibrant in the garden. The litchi and rhubarb bring in a little sharpness, and there's a green accord in there that's really refreshing. This is rose done in a modern, interesting way, and I dig it. Feminine, but in a way that feels manageable for my typical presentation. Despite my initial blunder, I do think it's more every-day wearable than its sister as long as you are conservative with your application. Will buy for sure, and probably sooner rather than later.
Carnal Gray Extrait: In a word: exquisite. This smells like being wealthy, well-traveled, and the hottest person at the function. Charisma in a bottle. Effortlessly sexy without being provocative. It's well blended, but not linear. We start with a spicy, herbaceous opening; you get the cardamom right away, with some sweet green undertones. Then, a beautiful dry down. It becomes more powdery with a bit sweetness thanks to iris, tonka, and vanilla. The woodiness from cedar and sandalwood and earthiness from vetiver and patchouli keep it from going gourmand, and the result is something deep, dark, and complex. Perfect for special occasions where you want to dress to impress, this would be the ultimate companion to a well-tailored suit or a fancy cocktail dress. Apparently folks are somewhat divided on whether Gris Charnel Extrait leans feminine or masculine, but to me, CGE is perfectly unisex. Great performance; three sprays lasts me all day with moderate projection. This is my favorite fragrance from Montagne so far, and in the running for my favorite fragrance of all time. It's probably not the best choice for the hot, humid summer that's coming my way, but I don't even care, this is going to the top of the queue. 12/10, I am writing in my will that I want this sprayed on me before I go in the casket.
Brooklyn Jazz: At last, a fragrance that I can compare to its inspiration! I have smelled and fallen in love with Maison Margiela's Jazz Club, and was super excited to see how the wallet-friendly version from Montagne stacks up. Indeed, it's a very close match. We have a nice peppery opening that gives way to boozy, rum tobacco heaven. It's not in the notes, but this definitely comes off leathery to my nose. It smells like sitting in a leather armchair, sipping on dark liquor, and smoking... some kind of tobacco product. I want to say a pipe rather than a cigar, but neither is my vice of choice, so I can't be sure. Either way, old school badass. Think Ron Swanson in Duke Silver mode. If anything, there is perhaps more of an herbal accord here that I didn't notice in Jazz Club, but that could be due to the translation from EDT to EDP. Masculine leaning, but still suitable for ladies who appreciate smokey scents. Altogether, a lovely warm and cozy scent. Decent longevity, but the projection could be better (maybe needs maceration). I do like it, but I'm more motivated to get my hands on Carnal Gray Extrait and Eau Vanille, both of which are certainly different, but occupy a similar region of the fragrance family tree. I may pick it up after I make it through the summer.
Thanks for reading my reviews! And special thank-yous to both u/Hype-Moments and u/AyybrahamLmaocoln for supplying this community with decants and saving us from the anxiety of blind-buying. Let me know if you have any recommendations for my next decant order, particularly more masculine scents that are good for summer; I want my collection to have a little of everything. What do y'all think of Afternoon Dive and Torino 2021? That's all, over and out.

I really apologize for the length of this post. But writing down all the details took way longer than I thought. And this situation was downright crazy. I never thought my sister would do something like this. Not too long ago I (23m) posted in AITAH for advice because my parents and sister were angry at me for regularly eating in a hospital cafeteria because it's close to my work. I enjoy the peace and quiet there on the days I do show up to eat. But this situation escalated so radically, that I can't believe something so dumb actually happened. My sister did the pettiest thing she's ever done to me. And for completely undeserved reasons too.
When my sister found out I was eating at the hospital cafeteria, she went off on me over how that food is just for people who are at the hospital because they need to be. We ended up in a big argument about it in which I told her it wasn't like I was taking food from the mouths of patients. Then she went to our parents to get them on her side like always. And they immediately sided with her just like I thought they would. They backed her up on how the hospital cafeteria was not a place to go eating casually. And we had a big argument. They spent days hounding me and telling me I was wrong, and demanding I stop. So I went to Reddit. And here I learned that not only was I not doing anything wrong. But it's a very common thing for people to go eat at hospital cafeterias just because they like it.
I hoped the situation would just fade away. But a few days later, my sister called me asking if I had stopped eating at the hospital. I said no. And then it started all over again. My parents then called me fuming and acting like I was supposed to stop going because they said so. I reminded them that I don't live under their roof anymore. And this is exactly the kind of reason why I moved out. They take my sister's side in almost everything. They huffed and puffed about it.
This time the fight didn't stay at home though. Other relatives found out because my sister tried to broaden her support. She was so dead set on enforcing her will upon me, that she went looking for help from other relatives. But our parents were the only ones on her side. And my uncle personally admonished my parents and her over the phone for it once I told him what actually happened. He told them they were only siding with my sister because she's their favorite. And they're terrible parents for ever playing favorites to begin with. Then cousin went to eat with me at that hospital cafeteria, and said he'd like to go there once as week too, as he also works nearby and bicycles everywhere. We've run into each other at lunch there once already since then. He was actually rather pleased to find out the food was made healthier than most other places. He's a bit of a picky eater. So this place is kinda like his new lunch hangout. And my sister got even angrier after finding out there were other people in the family eating at the hospital now too.
Once outed, my parents backed down due to embarrassment. They apologized to me, and gave me some malarkey that they honestly thought eating at a hospital was weird, and that they felt like they just needed to defend my sister. I told them they'd been placating my sister for so long, that it's all they do whenever she starts something with anyone. She's been treating me like a condescending control freak and a bully since we were teenagers, even though I'm older. And they just kept enabling that. But I won't put up with it anymore. My parents ended up conceding, and apologized. Then they made my sister apologize to me too. And I could tell she hated every second of it, because she tried to speak through her teeth at first.
Later on my parents invited me to dinner as another form of apology. But it felt more like a show to look good to the rest of the family, because they told everyone about it before it even happened. The dinner was great, I can't deny. My parents had cooked a turkey. Arguable one of my favorite things to eat. I love the drumsticks slathered with gravy. Yeah, I'm kinda a pig when I eat them. But I can't help it. My sister always thought it hilarious. And was one of the few things I didn't mind her laughing about. So I thought nothing of why she was so giggly at dinner.
Later after the family dinner, I noticed that my bike was missing. I'd parked it in the back yard out of sight. But it was just gone. I freaked out because it's my only mode of transportation. My parents did panic a bit with me. But my sister seemed just the opposite. She actually looked happy and was still giggling. I immediately suspected her, and she played innocent. She even gave the "I can't believe you'd think I'd do something like that!" line. I already knew she's extremely petty. But this was a whole new level of it for her. So I said that I was gonna go over to the neighbor because I know they have cameras, and they'd have seen what happened. And then I'd call the cops. My sister suddenly looked panicked, and I got mad and said I knew it was her. And demanded my bike back. She started crying and saying she didn't do anything. And our parents were immediately taking her side while scolding me for daring to accuse her.
So I had enough and said I was going to the neighbor's to ask to check their cameras. And then I'd be calling police. My sister finally fessed up and called me to come back. The looks on our parents' faces after they'd just defended her were priceless. My sister said she was just so angry at me for having made her apologize for something she still believed she was right about. So she planned to have a couple of her friends to come and grab my bike during dinner. She said her friends were in a minivan with it just down the street. She then started saying that I couldn't call police on her anyway, because I'm her big brother. Our parents backed that up too. But I pulled out my phone and started marching outside again. They ran after me with my sister begging and crying for me to stop. I called her a brat. And then I told my parents I couldn't believe they were still defending her when she was acting this way.
Our parents finally hit their enabling limit with her and told her to make her friends bring my bike back immediately. She got on her phone while sniffling and called her friends up. But then she suddenly ran into her room to talk to them. I couldn't hear a thing she said through the door because it was all in whispers. And our parents looked very worried too.
My sister would never have willingly admitted she had my bike stolen. She just kept sobbing that it was only a prank over and over again. And she also kept using the excuse that it's just a cheap bike anyway. I bought it used some months ago for $50. But it's in great shape. And it's my main mode of transportation. My sister kept looking at our parents to back her up. And that time they just couldn't. So she just slumped down in a chair hugging her knees and waiting with the rest of us. My sister looked increasingly freaked out the longer her friends took to bring my bike back, and was repeatedly texting them.
Even though my sister said her friends were just down the street, it took them roughly an hour to bring my bike back. They finally pulled up in the minivan with my bike shoved in the back. And it was completely soaked and all muddy. Like it'd just been pulled out of a wet muddy ditch. The bike is a 700c, so it's too tall for either of them to ride. So they just drove right up and stole the bike by dragging it into the van as fast as they could before taking off. I say they stole it because I was almost certain in the moment my sister had told them to dispose of my bike. Had I not pointed out the neighbors have cameras, I may not have gotten it back.
When her friends did finally arrive, their legs were all muddy and wet nearly up to their knees. They both begged me not report them to police for taking the bike. I asked while recording them to tell me the truth, and pointed out the neighbors have cameras. Did my sister want them to get rid of my bike? They broke down and said yes, my sister wanted them to take the bike and dump it in a pond a few miles away. And they had to go back and get it when they realized they were caught. My bike had been near completely submerged in muddy water. Thankfully I didn't have many added accessories on it other than a detachable headlight and my water bottle. But the water bottle was missing.
I wasn't surprised by what my sister's friends told me. And I had them tell our parents too. They laid into my sister till she was bawling on the floor kicking and pounding like a toddler. I had never seen my sister act that way since she actually was a toddler. And I found it mortifying she was still like this on the inside. Then she shut herself in her room. Her friends were banned from ever coming to my parents' house again. Then my sister was forced to come out of her room by our mother, and make another big apology to me.
Our father then forced her to wash and oil my bike from stem to stern under his supervision while I took apart the headlight and cleaned it out to dry it. By the time my sister was done, it was dark outside. She glared at me like I was the devil when she came back in the house. But our parents shut her attitude right down, and said they've never been more embarrassed by her in their lives. She went back to crying in her room. I had a very frank discussion with my parents about my sister's child-like behavior. And how it stemmed from their spoiling and enabling. I said I couldn't believe I had to be the voice of reason. But the fact that she was on the floor crying like a toddler, kicking and pounding, showed that she's still mentally a child because of them. And they kept making me the scapegoat when she screwed up, so she barely knows any sense of accountability. For once they didn't argue with me about it. And then my father silently drove me and my bike back to my apartment with his SUV. He also gave me some money to replace my bike's missing water bottle before we parted.
My sister and her clique used to harass me a fair bit whenever we ran into each other. They made fun of me as a group whenever possible. And I usually just ignored them because they bored me. And that really seemed to tick them off. But after the bike incident, I got sent numerous messages from numbers I didn't know cussing me out for making my sister cry over a silly prank. Knowing her, my sister probably fed everyone she knew a very different story on what happened. I texted lengthy replies of what actually happened, and even stated I have recordings of her friends admitting the truth.
Some people at my sister's college found out what actually went down. Maybe from my texts, maybe her friends spilled the beans. But it embarrassed my sister so much she came home having a crying tantrum about how people there were calling her and her friends B's and a bike thieves. I may not have gone to college. But I know students who need them are VERY protective of their bikes. A lot of them live on shoestring budgets after all. My sister said someone even joked that they shouldn't leave a bike around her, because it might just disappear if she had to apologize to anyone. My sister ended up so upset that she refused to leave her room for three days to have her pity party.
My parents called me up to try and turn everything on me again. I reminded them about the discussion we had days before, and that they needed to stop babying her, and let her deal with the repercussions of her own actions. If she fails her classes again, it's because she's not trying like she should be. Then I went off on them how were just looking for someone to blame to make her feel better. She made the problem. Not me. And I wasn't gonna be the one they make the scapegoat anymore. My sister is an adult. And she needs to act like it. They sounded defeated, and then apologized before ending the call. Looks like they were genuinely hoping I'd just sit back and take the blame so my sister would get better. But I never will again.
Now my parents are trying to pretend this all never happened, and my sister as well as her clique are avoiding me at all costs. Which I suppose is fine with me. Because I don't want anymore drama. But the next time something like this happens, I won't take it from them.
TLDR: My sister make a big deal of me eating at a hospital cafeteria, and then had her friends steal and dump my bike just because I made her apologize to me. Now she's being ridiculed by everyone.

This is about a woman's power. When interacting with a guy, how aware are you of the influence you have, like the way you talk, move, or choose your words, knowing it might elicit a certain response? Have you ever knowingly misused this power?
Following are some of the answers I received from a different platform. I would love to hear your thoughts.

• Selina: I believe societal constraints shaped by patriarchy strip women of their innate power, affecting how we navigate the world. I've embraced my power more through my spiritual work that incorporates both masculine and feminine energies, though I haven’t yet chosen specific deities to connect with in my practice.
• Blade Run: I recall a saying from my university psychology class: men use love to get sex and women use sex to get love. I question if this still holds true, especially for younger generations, and I’m curious about others' thoughts on this.
• Mel: I’ve come to realize that I unknowingly abused my power over men in the past. Now, I regret certain actions and understand the importance of kindness and awareness in using personal power.
• The orange circle: As a man, I feel under attack from feminist movements that have redefined masculinity, making it less acceptable. I argue that women’s empowerment, often tied to sex appeal, disadvantages men unless women collectively reject societal objectification.
• PDS Kim: I've noticed that women have become more assertive over the years, which has shifted power dynamics between men and women. This change allows women to explore their femininity and power more freely.
• Chelsea: I enjoy the dynamics of flirtation and believe in using my interpersonal skills for playful interactions without causing harm. I am aware of my influence in these exchanges and try to keep them fun and harmless.
• Radiant Allure: I am conscious of my feminine power and believe I use it responsibly and for good, without harming others.
• Man of GOD servant of Jesus Christ: I suggest that power in relationships comes from allowing oneself to be manipulated.

I’ve gone through most of my life being attracted to women. I’m attracted to a huge variety of women, regardless of body shape, heritage, age, and so on. Ever since early puberty, though, I’ve always had a little spark of attraction to men. This attraction was always much more specific, related to body types and such. It was never as strong as my attraction to women, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve learned that I pretty reliably ride the “bi-cycle,” and that depending on the time of month, I may be more into women than men, more into men than women, and back and forth like that.
Through all of this, I’ve also discovered that I have a very strong attraction to crossdressing. I really enjoy putting in the time and effort to be the most attractive I can be as a woman, and be able to present as female. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m “non-binary,” because this desire doesn’t manifest itself very often, but when it does, it’s very strong. It’s practically all I can think about. I call it “the pink werewolf” coming out. And when this comes, I have this intense desire to be seen and appreciated as an attractive, female-presenting person, and especially to be an object of sexual desire.
I’m engaged to a lovely and kind-hearted woman who is aware of all this - to a certain extent. She knows I’ve had this history of sexual experimentation, and she’s been very accepting of that. I haven’t expressed ANY of these non-heteronormative behaviors in our relationship, though, and I’ll explain why:

1. My fiancée has been through a lot. She lost her father last year, and has been on a weight loss journey that has been tough to maintain. She struggles with ADHD and anxiety, and her job regularly drains her. This has led to her cocooning up into just doomscrolling on her phone at the end of the day, with no real interest in engaging with anyone. I do what I can to support her, but sometimes I’m just at a loss.
2. We haven’t had sex in a long time. I proposed to her at the start of the year, but we haven’t made love except maybe once since then, and that was months ago. She has a lot of anxiety about sex now, whereas she didn’t before, when we were first dating. Her last boyfriend used sex as a way to guilt trip her and control the relationship, and she’s having a hard time unlearning that. She also cites having a lot of fear of being unattractive, and of not being able to reach climax because she can’t get into the right headspace for it. I always tell her she’s lovely and pretty and sexy, and she knows anytime she wants to “get some,” I’m right here for her. But it’s been getting harder and harder to initiate with her because I’m just not motivated anymore. I love her, and want to connect with her, but I’m a little weary of how disconnected we are on this front, and I don’t even know where to start with her anymore. Nothing “comes naturally,” at least not lately. She has a vibrator and is able to use that pretty freely, which actually makes me a little jealous. I guess my thinking is, “If it’s so easy for her to get off without me around, what about me makes it difficult?” I’m not sure that’s the right way to think about it, though. I mean, I can jerk off all the time, what’s the difference there?
3. She’s expressed fear about “not being enough” for me. When I first explained to her how I tried out all sorts of sexual flavors in my past, she made it clear that she wanted to know if she would be enough for me. I said that the point of being in a relationship is so that you’re into it for the person, not the acts. That there are many healthy and creative ways for couples to act on their interests. I would never want her fears there to be realized. That would be terrible for her. That’s the last thing I want to do.

Lately, especially over the last couple of months, I’ve found myself increasingly wishing I could have some freedom to express my queerness without harming our relationship or betraying her trust. I don’t know what form that would take, though. I’m really feeling my feminine side lately, but in response to that, I’ve grown a beard, as though that would help repress it. But I desperately would love to get super skinny, get a full-body wax, a nice tan, and just doll myself up to the max.
We have a tough enough time initiating sex right now. And we’re facing a lot of stress as we try to finalize our wedding plans. We’ve had a lot of arguments lately that have left me feeling drained, and in response to this I’m looking for outlets where I feel seen, appreciated, and desired. I would never step outside of our relationship, because I truly love this woman. The way she looks at me, the way she takes care of me, the way we make each other laugh, and the safety and care I can provide to her… that’s something you only find once in a lifetime.
I just don’t know what to do. Do I just wait, tie the knot, provide what I can to make things better for us, and then talk about how to ease this stuff into our sex life when we have more emotional bandwidth? Do I seek out “alternative” outlets like online roleplay, video chat, OnlyFans, and so on, just to “scratch the itch” without burdening my girl with more to process? Or is this a sign of something deeper that I should make more of a priority for myself somehow? Am I risking my relationship by even “going there?” I just don’t know how to be all of myself without somehow causing harm, and that makes me very sad.

I recently bought a bottle of Miim Miic compound 21 from TJ Maxx. I’m terrible at describing scents, but the bottle describes it as “a blend of cool green woods”. The smell is very nostalgic to me and I would like to buy a bottle of the actual perfume. I can’t find anything about this particular compound online. Does anyone know what this is a dupe of?

WIBTA if I cut off my aunt and sister after a trip to the UK they paid for?
To give back story, I 36F am a therapist who has been making in on their own since I was 17. Growing up was not easy… let’s just say my family was a mess. I have made the best of my life… I graduated high school in 3 years, BA in 3 years, took 3 years off and got my MSW in 2 years. I have significant student debt. I have been lucky in the past few years where I was able to take out a mortgage on a small 800 square foot home. I moved away from a city and state I loved to do so. I wanted to pursue a better financial position for myself but that meant going across the US. Still I live pretty much pay check to pay check.
In addition to poor family live and a hard financial situation. I have major medical problems. I have had 12 surgeries before the age of 36 and still need several more. I can’t afford to take the time off or the medical expenses. For example I had a hysterectomy in December and returned to work after 5 days. Due to my medical situation I am not in the best shape and I know I am overweight. At this time I am about 240 lbs. I eat pretty healthy and avoid most junk and fast food. Weight is difficulty due to my inability to workout or stay extremely active. FYI I am still pretty active and DYI large house project including making my own paver stones for my stone which was about 5 tons of cement I mixed by hand in buckets.
My only aunt on my father side lived 5 hours away from my new location. I reached out to her when I moved as we have had a distant relationship but still maintained contacted. She never seemed interested in making our relationship stronger even though I was only a 5 hour drive from her instead of 20. About three years after my move her ex husband passed away. She suddenly was interested in having a relationship with me. As I do want to have relationships with the remaining family I have I met her where she was at. I don’t hold a grudge. I went to visit her while one of my siblings was visiting her in 8/2023. She found out in that trip I wanted to visit the UK the following year. She asked if I’d like to go with her on a trip. FYI she had taken me on a similar trip for a graduation present from grad school. I did not ask her for either trip and would have been happy postponing my trip due not being able to afford the trip on my own. (The reason I wanted to go to the UK is my middle sister lives there and has for the past 21 years… we have large age gaps in my family. I am the youngest) Money is tight for me and always has been.
She has been wonderful and paid for many things… again nothing I have asked for … she has even denied me paying for meals on this trip. I have tried to pay for small things or pick up small gifts when she is not paying attention. Well we have 4 more days on the 13 day trip, staying with my sister at this point in the vacation. All I want to do is book a flight home and tell her and sister to f**k off.
My sister, her husband and my aunt have been making comments for the past 3 days about other peoples bodies. How it is unacceptable to be large or have a potbelly. We are sitting down at afternoon tea today ( not high tea just a cup of tea) and she starts talking about one of her son’s friends, older sisters not dating because men do not find her attractive. I was a bit confused…there is always someone out there for someone. She mentions the woman’s weight which is not to much more than my weight is the grand scene of things. I mention this and she says oh but it’s different because of XYZ. Immediately I am sensitive as my weight is a sore spot. I excuse my self to bathroom but have a long cry to myself and just can’t shake it. After tea we continue walking the gardens. I explain to my sister privately I am upset. She tells me to ignore it take a deep breath and how this was not directed at me. I explained I knew it was not towards me but it still hurts. My sister just continues to justify the actions of everyone. I stated it is hard to hear how my loved view people who are overweight because I know I am. There is no hiding it. My sister quickly got defensives and stated no one would ever think that of me due to my medical stuff. I replied but if that is how you all people like me there must be some underlying judgement, it’s human nature. Hello, I’m the therapist… you don’t just turn off your natural judgements for one person in your life. Again my sister disagreed with me. So I said I was just going to keep my mouth shut and wanted alone time in the evening and to be left alone. I can’t help but feel judged by my closest sibling and aunt. The tears just won’t stop. My romantic partner has offered to send all the money he has to fly my home immediately. I thanked him and told him I loved him but I don’t want to start that drama.
Right now I feel like a performing monkey as she keeps asking me disclose all the trauma from childhood as well… as she did not know what was happening in my family. I don’t feel like I can deny her as she spent all this money on me.
Would I be the asshole if when I return from this trip in 4 days to cut my sister and my aunt off for their judgements and invaliding my feelings after they have spent so much money on me?

I feel like I really indulge my agp only when I’m super anxious. When I feel great, I want to be a perfectly healthy man in a good shape, have a wife and kids , competing with other men.
I’m wondering if I’m not one of the cases that could benefit from testosterone injections. I don’t want to be a woman, I want to be functional for my wife and my future kids maybe…

I'm pretty sure I'm going to be dead in the next 24 hours.
Whether that's the Costella family, or whatever this is, I'm not sure.
The police are taking forever, and part of me knows they're either refusing to believe me, or RC got them too.
I'm holed up on our school bus, so I've got nothing better to do.
I want to tell you about my team.
We met in our sophomore year.
Strangers standing outside the club room.
Levi was the freckled brunette who wouldn't stop talking about Game of Thrones.
Sunny, a pretty redhead, told him to shut up.
Tom, a sandy blonde, nodding his head to music corked in his ears.
I just wanted to be part of a club, and get away from my overbearing mother.
I won't say it was a perfect start. Our school was lacking in funding, so anyone could join, which made us more of a Quiz Club. I had some serious anxiety, so I stayed on the sidelines for a while, watching, rather than taking part.
It's not like we actually talked to each other initially. The first few weeks, we played Jeopardy, and attempted to find more members to cement us as an official Academic Decathlon club.
Unfortunately, though, it was just the four of us.
Which made it extremely hard for us to be taken seriously.
According to Google, Academic Decathlon teams were made up of nine members, placed by their GPA.
Our principal laughed at us, but he did let us become official.
Which was out of pity, I assumed.
The club was assembled, and we started meeting up after school.
Sort of.
Sunny barely showed up, and Levi didn't take anything seriously, preferring to spend the time telling us about his weird family turf-war.
Our principal dumped us in a tiny classroom with a resident rat living under the floorboards.
There was barely enough room to move, and the four of us crammed together for three hours was less than appealing.
Still, though, I wanted to be part of a club.
I had grown up with parents who were obsessed with board games, so I was pretty good at general knowledge questions. Our club room was too small for anything else but three desks (Sunny and I shared one) and a whiteboard we had to shove through the door.
But, again, we didn't start as an Academic club.
It was more akin to Story Time Club.
Arriving late on my third day, armed with quiz cards from home, I found Tom and Sunny completely mesmerised by Levi’s storytelling skills, drowned in shadow.
They didn't even turn the lights on.
I strictly remember squeezing next to Sunny, and hearing the words, “But there was so much blood all over the floor, and my Mom told me to go upstairs and hide under the bed…”
Sitting in front of them was Levi, perched on a desk, his legs swinging, a whiteboard marker between his teeth.
Sometimes he'd get up, and illustrate parts of his story.
It sucked that his drawings were all stick people.
I won't go into full details of his life, but Levi grew up as part of a family who had… interesting methods of making a living. I had seen the guy’s father multiple times when we hung out at his place, and, yeah, my friend’s family definitely had Soprano vibes.
Levi’s Draw My Life was nothing to do with the club, but it did bring us closer.
Even if, at that point, I was considering leaving.
But it's not like it was easy to walk away from these guys. It's like finding your soulmates. Levi wasn't the only one with an interesting life. Sunny Lang was an ex kpop trainee, who was kicked out for being too fat, which led her to develop a severe eating disorder, and a hatred for her own body.
Sunny explained her family were originally from Boston, her mother growing up in Korea.
She signed up for an idol agency focusing on creating a new girl group, and had gotten all the way to the final stages, before being kicked for her weight. Sunny told us her story with a smile, though there was a hollowness in her eyes I couldn't ignore. The other girls were judgemental bullies, and the idol diet and brutal regime almost killed her.
Sunny lived in a tiny apartment with 9 girls, who would tear each other apart for a chance to debut. Sunny said all the other girls debuted, and when we (not so patiently) asked for names, she shrugged, admitting she signed an NDA that prevented her spilling the beans.
What she did say, was the K-pop idol is a product, not a person– and are made and moulded into a product.
She had zero interest in throwing her humanity away to become a manufactured doll.
So, one of us was the son of an underground family, and the other was an ex idol.
Tom was an aspiring horror writer with a famous older step-brother.
His story times were usually, That one time I went to the Met Gala.
When it was my turn to reveal my story, I told them the only interesting thing about me.
I could smell when something bad was going to happen.
They laughed, but I was being serious.
When I was a kid, I smelled my mother’s brain tumor.
I remember it smelled like curdled milk.
I asked Mom why her head smelled of mouldy milk, and Mom laughed and said it was her shampoo.
It was actually a grade two tumor growing inside her brain.
Thankfully, the tumour was found quickly and removed.
Growing older, I became sensitive to smell. The little girl choking on the bus smelled of singed wood, and the old man crossing the road stunk of gasoline.
In the fourth grade, my classmate Alex Castor smelled of lemons all morning.
I sat behind him, choking on the stink all the way through class.
Ever since I met him, Alex had always smelled… off.
It was a distinct smell I could never understand, and as the days and months and years went by, that smell morphed into a subtle orangey musk that was so strong I had to cover my mouth and nose. Then, he smelled like lemons.
During Recess, I watched Alex fall off of the jungle gym, straight onto his head.
Alex Castor was dead before the paramedics arrived, my panicked teacher attempting CPR when his brains were leaking out of his ears.
The school claimed it was an accident, but Alex would have been fine if the jungle gym wasn't built on solid concrete.
I told my team members this, and Levi was sceptical.
“You can smell bad things?” He said, his lips curved around his milkshake straw. In the early days, we hung out in the local bar. It's not like we were allowed inside, but Levi could get us in anywhere.
I was squeezed between Tom and Sunny, while Levi took the seat opposite us. I couldn't help noticing our waitress was insisting on free milkshake refills, her frantic eyes glued to Levi.
I had zero idea why. Levi Costella was about as intimidating as a fruit fly.
Wearing a white shirt with a popped collar, a leather jacket thrown over the top, Levi was giving rebellious Harvard student, rather than son of a crime family.
Leaning forward, he raised a brow, clearly not believing me.
“So, you're like a stink psychic?”
I shrugged, sipping my own shake.
“Sure.”
I wasn't planning on telling him the club room smelled off on our first day.
Once we actually started the club, Levi surprised us as the smartest member, and getting to know him further, I came to the realization his family were infamous in our town.
However, his parents hid it well. Lucy and Michael Costella were the owners of a popular ramen store in our town, hiding under the facade of two successful business owners. The Costella’s were an attractive family.
Lucy was a sophisticated brunette with a lipstick smile, Michael, a handsome fluffy haired man who looked like he modelled glasses.
The two were fiercely protective over their youngest son, not so casually reminding us behind grinning smiles, that if anything happened to Levi, we would automatically be involved in the family.
I mean, they did laugh and say, “We’re joking! Look at your little faces!” when Sunny went deathly pale. But there was definitely truth behind their words.
Being Levi’s friend was… challenging at first.
Tom and I were in his room studying for finals, and an alarm went off, flooding Levi’s room in red light.
I had zero idea where it was coming from, but it locked all the doors and windows, forcing the Costella residence into temporary lockdown. Levi didn't seem fazed, casually mentioning his parents were taking care of it.
He had a whiteboard set up in his room, and was standing in front of it, cramming all of our textbook notes into one easily digestible drawing.
Levi wasn't just smart.
He was Ivy League smart, so we had struck gold with him.
His family were questionable, and yes, sometimes I did fear for my life, but as the more time we spent at his house, the Costella household became a second home. We got used to the alarms.
I just brought along ear plugs.
I wish I was writing this post about Levi’s family, and sure, they are a factor in what is going on right now, but I want to preface this by saying the events below involve the 2024 scholastic decathlon final in our town with the school’s listed:
Starbrook High School.
Ratcliffe High School.
Please note, the incident that took place last night was immediately covered up, and all phone footage was destroyed. Our town is mostly out of the way, and does not show up on Google searches.
We also have our own version of the academic decathlon, which is a more town-level competition, due to lacking funds. The four of us were desperate to start competing with our schools.
So, we started taking things a little more seriously.
We got a coach.
Mr Hanes, who was hesitant at first.
In his words, “You will hate me as your coach.”
He started by recruiting more members, announcing, “If you want to be taken seriously as an actual club, then I'll be taking the reins from now on.”
He did, and with our teachers guidance (and sometimes brutal honesty), we reached a level where we could start competing with other school’s in town. Now, none of us knew this, but Mr Hanes was obsessed with winning.
So, club meetings were twisted into two hour study sessions with no talking, followed by Mr Hanes Jeaprody, which was Jeaprody, without the actual fun.
We were quizzed multiple times, answer cards and practise questions quite literally thrown directly in our faces.
I hate to admit this (I really hate to admit this) but Mr Hanes’s tactics worked. Sure, we had been mildly brainwashed by our slightly unhinged coach, but with Levi Costella, we destroyed our competitors. Like I said, our town held their own version of the academic scholastic decathlon, but it was pretty much the same, with some changes.
Ten subjects. Language and Literature, Math, Social Science, Economics, Art, Music, Interview, Speech, and Essay.
Unlike the official Decathlon, ours was more like a game show, with the ability to be knocked out if a team member answers a question wrong. Whoever answers the most questions correctly wins. Team meet ups were either tests, study sessions, or quizzing each other.
Which leads me to last night.
The finals were held in the reigning champions, Ratcliffe High School’s, auditorium.
And we were about to win our town’s Scholastic Decathlon 2024 Championships.
Well…I was knocked out in the music section. Standing next to my coach who I was sure was going to asphyxiate from excitement, I could smell the sudden potent stink of lemon. I tried to ignore it at first, but the more questions my team were answering correctly, the smell got worse, suffocating my senses.
This wasn't just lemon. The stink was like a burning, singing smell trickling into my nose and the back of my throat.
It was stronger than what Alex smelled like.
This was suffocating, drowning my thoughts.
“Are you okay, Cassandra?”
Mr Hanes nudged me when a Ratcliffe girl was struggling to answer a question, only for Sunny to jump in with the answer. “You look quite pale.”
I nodded, forcing a smile.
My gaze was on the Ratcliffe coach, a scary looking blonde woman, whispering in one of her student’s ears.
The Ratcliffe kid freaked me out. He was way too tall, dark blonde hair, and bulging eyes I swear were not blinking.
His gaze was glued to Levi, who wore a smug grin.
There was a smaller girl next to the Ratcliffe kid, a Macbook balanced on her knee. Every so often, he leaned into her, the two of them in deep conversation.
“I'm just nervous.”
I jumped when Ratcliffe scored a point, their side erupting into cheers.
During the break, we had a mini team meeting.
Sunny rushed to the bathroom to freshen up, and I noticed a Ratcliffe girl with a bouncing ponytail following her.
Ignoring our coach’s speech, I joined the two girls in the corridor, that lemony scent hanging thick in the air.
I caught them in an awkward position.
The Ratcliffe girl had her fingers pinched between the material of Sunny’s dark blue shirt bearing our school’s name.
Sunny looked confused, her lips parted like she was going to yell.
Ponytail dropped her hand, suddenly, with a nervous laugh. “Oh! I'm so, so, sorry,” she gushed. “You had, like, the biggest spider crawling on your back.”
Sunny caught my eye, shooting me a reassuring smile.
“Thanks.” She made sure to keep her distance. “Uh, where's your bathroom?”
The Ratcliffe girl nodded down the hallway. “It's just down there. I'm going there too if you want me to show you?”
Sunny motioned for me to go back to the auditorium. “Uh, sure! That'd be great!”
I did try to follow them, only for Sunny to cough loudly.
I took the hint, reluctantly heading back into the auditorium.
My team was hyping each other up, Levi in the centre, sweating through his team shirt. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I can't do this,” He groaned. “Ratcliffe High is known to play dirty, man. They're unbeatable.”
“In what way do they play dirty?” I asked, joining them.
Levi gulped down water, shrugging.
“I dunno! They're already trying to distract me with the stink eye.” The boy narrowed his eyes at a grinning Ratcliffe kid who, after noticing our stares, jumped to his feet, waving at us.
“Hey guys!”
“That's Harry Cartwright, the son of the Cartwright family who tried to kill my parents in the third grade.” Levi mockingly waved back. “As you can see, their kid is a fucking sociopath.”
Huh. I wasn't expecting the smiley kid to be the mobster’s son.
Harry Cartwright was not what I expected.
Unlike his team members, he was the only one in casual clothing, a short sleeved white shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head.
Tom went pale.
“Fuck.” He hissed. “He’s one of you? Then those bastards will have a reason to play dirty, right?”
Levi shrugged, averting his gaze. It was the first time I saw his eyes darken, like he was subtly telling the boy to back off.
“The Cartwright’s have been trying to buy our land for a while,” he muttered. “I wouldn't put it past them to use the Decathlon as a way to attack.”
“Attack?!” April, another member of our team, hissed. “Like, attack attack?”
Mr Hanes grabbed the boy, resting his hands on Levi’s shoulders. “Ignore them,” he said. “Hey. Look at me.”
Levi did, raising a brow.
“You're losing that spark in your eye, young man.”
“Spark?”
Our coach nodded. “Look at me, kid.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “I am looking at you, Mr Hanes.”
The man was shaking. I was guessing his whole career (or coaching career) was on the line.
“They know they're losing, Mr Costella.”
Hanes shook the boy, squeezing his shoulders. “You are being positive and Ratcliffe doesn't like that. They want you to be nervous. They want to make you second guess yourself and lose confidence. Don't let them get into your head.” he smiled, giving the boy a playful shove. “Kick their asses.”
“Exactly!”
I didn't realize Sunny was back from the bathroom.
The faint smell of lemons had followed her. I noticed a wet patch on her shirt collar, though she was quick to smile at me, admitting she'd spilled water down herself. Sunny wrapped her arms around Levi, squeezing him into a hug.
She hung on for a little too long, Tom dragging her away with a laugh. “Good luck, all right?” she backed away, ruffling his hair. “We’ve got this!”
When I hugged Levi good luck too, I had to resist covering my nose.
The smell of lemon was unbearable, just like fourth grade Alex.
But it wasn't as potent as earlier.
I vaguely remembered the smell starting to fade once Alex’s body was being carted away on a stretcher.
Following my captain through the crowd, I was right. The smell was less suffocating. Before he went back to the stage, I grabbed the back of his shirt.
The material was soaking wet.
“How are you so wet?” I said, swiping my hands on my shirt.
“Huh?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. Do you remember what I told you in sophomore year?”
Levi settled me with a confident, but nervous smile. “Thaaaat you're scared of clowns?”
“No. I mean the boy who smelled of lemons.” I gritted out.
Levi surprised me with a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
Something ice cold trickled down my spine.
Levi did know what I was talking about. He brought up my stink sense a day earlier in front of his parents, and I had to cover his mouth to shut him up.
Leaning close, I whispered in his ear. “You stink of rotten lemons.”
He nodded slowly, pulling away. “Uh… thanks?”
I bit back a hiss of frustration. “No, you don't understand what I'm saying–”
“Starbrooke High School,” The host announced. “Can all members please return to the stage.”
Levi held up his hand for a high five.
“Can we do this later?” He winked. “I'm kinda busy carrying this spelling-bee on my back right now.”
I nodded shakily, high fiving him, and letting him jump back onto the stage.
Before his words hit like a tidal wave, ice cold water slammed into me.
Spelling Bee?
Slowly making my way back to the stands, Levi’s mistake was circling around my head. He did win a spelling bee, but that was in middle school.
Thankfully, the smell of lemons was gone when I returned to my seat.
Mr Hanes handed me a soda. “Chill out, Cassandera, it's just a game.”
He could talk. The guy was on his fifth coffee.
Mr Hanes was not chilled out in the slightest.
Surprisingly, the event went well. I was half expecting my team to be crushed by the rafters, or caught in a blaze started in the crowd. But we were doing well. No, we were winning.
Reaching the climaxing round, Sunny choked against a smug Ratcliffe boy, joining me on the sidelines.
Levi answered the next question with a confident smile.
We were winning, but Ratcliffe could still catch up with a miracle.
The second to last question was to Ratcliffe, and it was general knowledge.
”Where on the human body would one find the *orbit?*
I knew the answer, and so did Levi, his lips breaking out into a smile when the Ratcliffe boy was hesitating, eyes wide.
Our school’s buzzer went off, Levi slamming his hand down.
Bzzz!
The host turned to our team. “Starbrooke, can I have your answer?”
Levi nodded, shooting our team a victory grin.
“It's…!“ He opened his mouth to answer, his jaw slackening suddenly.
The boy’s shoulders slumped.
“Uh… “
“Um…”
“Huhhhhh…”
Levi inclined his head, blinking, his eyes glazing over. There was a sudden, hollow vacancy that sent chills down my spine. It was like someone had reached into his skull, and yanked out his brain, leaving a shell in his place.
To my confusion, our team captain frowned at his buzzer like he'd never seen one before. He pressed it, exploding into child-like giggles.
Bzzz!
The audience laughed along nervously.
Tom nudged me. “What the fuck is he doing?”
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz!
Levi’s entire body was slumped, his hand slamming down on the buzzer.
I caught something pooling down his chin.
“Is he… drooling?” I whispered.
Mr Hanes looked mildly horrified. “Has he been drinking?
“Levi?” Tom spluttered. “Drinking?!"
Whatever we were watching, however, was definitely influenced by… something.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz!
“Young man, that is not a toy!”
The host wasn't amused. “Starbrooke High School, I need an answer from you,” He nodded to Levi, who was pressing the buzzer, his smile growing.
“Once again,” The host backed away, like Levi was contagious. “Where on the human body would one find the Orbit?”
Levi cocked his head, lips parted.
His gaze found the overhead lights, and he winced, his lips curling into a frown.
“Starbrooke High School!”
Levi jumped, tipping his head back and blowing a raspberry. “Palm tree?”
The audience laughed, and I started feeling nauseous.
Across from us, I could see the twist of a smirk on the Ratcliffe coach’s lips.
Bzzz! Levi slammed the buzzer again giggling.
“Starbrooke High School, if your team member continues to act like this, I will be forced to disqualify all members.”
Our captain stopped, gaze glued to the host, his hand creeping towards the buzzer, like it was a big red button.
The audience loved it, laughing like they were watching a sitcom.
“He wouldn't.” Tom whisper-shrieked.
The auditorium was silent for a moment, awaiting Starbrooke’s response.
Levi stuck out his tongue, slamming his hand down.
Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz–
When Tom dragged Levi away from his podium, a Ratcliffe girl hit her buzzer.
“Starbrooke High School, you are disqualified,” the host announced. “Ratcliffe High School, do you have an answer?”
It was Ponytail who nodded with a grin.
“The answer is the eye socket! The Orbit is part of the eye socket!”
“That is the correct answer.” The host was distracted, his eyes glued to Levi.
“Ratcliffe High School wins.”
Levi jumped when the Ratcliffe wide erupted into cheers.
His eyes were wide, clinging onto the buzzer for comfort.
Next to me, our coach looked like he was going to faint.
I barely noticed Ratcliffe’s victory, too busy watching our team captain, who was Harvard bound, tipping his head back and smiling at the ceiling like a new-born baby. Tom dragged the stumbling boy over to me, his mouth twisted.
“This was Ratcliffe, right?” He hissed, shaking our captain, who was struggling, squirming in his grip.
“Did they put something in his drink?!” He prodded Levi. “Hey! What did they do to you?!”
Still, though, drugging his drink didn't make sense.
Levi never left the auditorium, and kept his water bottle with him the whole time.
How did they even manage to slip something into his drink in the first place?
Did I smell our competitors drugging him?
Sure, intentionally inebriating my teammate was morally wrong and illegal, but why could I smell lemon?
“I doubt it was Ratcliffe.” Sunny squeezed next to me. “I've been watching them. They're harmless.”
“Then how the fuck do we explain this to his parents?!” Tom whispered, grappling with Levi, who was fighting to get back to the buzzer.
When Tom let go of him, he dropped onto the floor, crawling over to his podium. It was like watching a child.
Who was determined to piss off the adults.
Levi jumped back to instead feet, his gaze was glued to the host, a smile curved on his lips, when he slammed the buzzer again.
Bzzz!
“Someone, please remove the Starbrooke boy from the stage!”
I was embarrassed, our whole team ducking our heads as our captain was forcibly removed from the podium.
Mr Hanes grabbed Levi, pulling him off of the stage.
I expected our coach to be mad at him, but I think the teacher was more worried, a phone pressed to his ear while he forced the boy into a sitting position.
No, I don't think it's influence from alcohol, I could hear his conversation.
Levi kept trying to get up, mesmerised by the buzzer. The teacher was firm but gentle. “Hey. Sit down, all right? Keep still.” He went back to his phone call, gently prying Levi’s eyes open.
From what I can see, there's nothing wrong. He's just kind of…
Mr Hanes swiped his own hands on his jeans. ... wet?
Team Ratcliffe came over to rub it in our faces, though I was still tuned into our coach’s hissed whispering.
Water? No, I don't think it's water. It smells… no, I haven't told his parents…
“You guys did awesome!” Ponytail's voice was sugary sweet. Too sugary.
She held the 2024 trophy, bearing a satisfied smile. I noticed the Ratcliffe members were surrounding Harry, like guards.
“Better luck next time, okay?” She held out her hand, her eyes twinkling.
“No hard feelings?”
“Control your dog.” Harry said, amused eyes flicking to Levi, who was once again sprinting back to the fucking buzzer. His eyes had visibly darkened, lips curled into a triumphant smile.
Harry Cartwright was watching Mr Hanes chase our team captain like it was his own personal entertainment.
I had to look away before I died of second hand embarrassment.
“What did you put in his drink?” Tom demanded. “Weed? Edibles?” the boy attempted to shove Harry, only to be pushed back. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
Harry’s smile didn't waver. “Like I said. Control your mut.”
When the Ratcliffe team walked away, our red faced coach struggling with Levi, who was behaving progressively more erratically, informed us we were longer welcome inside the school.
Tom suggested calling an ambulance, but our coach was hesitant.
We all knew who Levi’s family were.
On the way out, Tom matched my stride. He was frowning at our team captain struggling to walk.
The way he was acting was already eyebrow raising.
But walking at an angle and being unable to stand up straight was worrying.
“I don't think they drugged his drink.” Tom muttered.
We pushed through the doors out of the school, and I revelled in the cool night air grazing my cheek. “If they did, he would be acting out of it, right? So, what's the deal with him acting like–”
“A child.” I finished for him.
“Yeah.” Tom leaned closer. “Do you think this has something to do with their turf war?”
I slapped at a bug creeping across my cheek.
Levi fell over again, this time bursting into giggles.
“Almost definitely.”
Levi was right about Ratcliffe playing dirty. I didn't realize how dirty until we were on the losers bus home. Levi was in the seat next to me, and the kid hadn't moved since we left Ratcliffe, his eyes wide, lips pulled into a dazed grin.
Bzzz!
The noise startled me from slumber. I was drooling, my head pressed against the window. Outside, the sky was pitch dark, and squinting through the glass, I couldn't get a bearing on where we were. I thought I was hearing things, but when I sat up, I heard it again.
Bzzz!
It was close.
Leaning over the boy, I glimpsed a smear of scarlet on his headrest.
I choked on my next words.
“Tom.”
Tom was in front of me, listening to music.
He didn't reply, his head of dark blonde curls nodding to the beat.
“Levi.” I managed to get out. I prodded him, and his head lolled into his shoulder. “Hey. Can you… sit up?”
Bzzz! Bzzz!
When the boy didn't move, I gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward myself, something contracting in my stomach.
I don't know how long it takes for your mind to fully register something, but my body was already reacting.
Levi’s seat was infested with bugs, eating their way through the upholstery. I was aware of my body moving back. I threw up, instantly, screaming into my hand.
The back of my best friend's skull resembled a deflated soccer ball, what was left of his brain leaking from his skull where a swarm of skittering bugs chewed their way through brain tissue, metallic legs scratching the curved, pearly white of the base if his skull.
Levi’s head hung, his body flopping into mine.
But his eyes were still open, lips still stretched into a smile.
Blood ran in thick rivulets from his nose and ears.
Bzzz!
I could see them, black writhing dots alive in his eyes, wriggling movement under his skin.
“Tom!”
I jumped up, stumbling into the aisle, my stomach heaving.
And it was only when I was on my knees, swiping bile from my lips, when I realized the others weren't reacting.
Tom wasn't moving.
I pulled an Airpod out of his ear, a long, slithering string of pink attached to the end.
There was a stray bug skittering across his hand, his face starting to twitch and writhe.
Moving back, I checked myself over, my hands shaking.
Head.
Shoulders.
Hair.
Clawing through it, my breath was stuck in my throat.
Arms.
Legs.
Feet.
Mr Hanes was slumped against the window, a reddish froth bubbling from his mouth.
Sunny.
I started towards the back of the bus, but all I had to see was her bowed head, half of her skull chewed through.
Sunny was in a far more deteriorated state, her face had been ripped through, a skeletal smile glinting in the dim.
The thick black smear on the window next to her was moving.
When I screamed for the driver to stop the bus, he ignored me.
If anything, he stamped on the gas.
I moved forward to shake him, before glimpsing a bug creeping down his face.
Calling 911, the operator laughed at me.
“Bugs are eating your friends.” He said. “Do you know the penalty for calling with bullshit pranks?”
The bus didn't stop, so I stayed at the front, while the bugs took over the back, eating through my teammates.
After four hours, I risked leaning over the seat next to Tom to check on Levi.
They were eating him.
Chewing all the way through skin, muscle and bone.
I tried to stop the bus, but the driver’s hands were tightly wrapped around the wheel.
Another hour, and blood was seeping down the aisle, crawling with bugs.
Levi was gone, and in his place, a buzzing skittering pile of bugs, that I thought were going to move to a second victim, maybe burrowing into the seats.
But, no.
These things began to tremble, replicating.
Building.
Slowly, nothing became static, and static became muscle.
Then bone.
Then flesh.
When a body began to slowly form, moulded from the dead boy, I stumbled back.
These things weren't eating Levi Costella.
They were rewriting him.
…
Edit: I'm still on the bus. I'm 99.9% sure that I'm infected with whatever this thing is. I can't stop fucking itching.
I keep picking them off me but they won't stop. This bus isn't going to stop until I'm like the others.
…
Edit 2:
I can feel them chewing into my skull. They're in my ears. I keep spitting them out. Please, someone get them off of me. Help me. I don't want to die at 17.
Edit 3:
Still alive. Still breathing. Maybe they're leaving me alone????? I think I'm okay. There is a pile of bugs at my feet, but they're crawling off of me.
Edit 4:
Levi really wants to go home. Like, he just told me he REALLY wants to go home. He's got a gift for his parents.
~~Edit 5 :) ~~
Levi is next to me right now, an odd smile on his face.
The bugs are not finished building him yet, but he'll be ready soon.
We will be ready soon.
Your son says hello! He is a wonderful boy, is he not?
Mr and Mrs Costella, I cannot wait for you to meet him.
He is our greatest achievement, and rest assured, you will give us what we want.
Warm regards.
The Cartwright's.

Ignore the overheated geeks: the general election doesn’t matter
By Jeremy Clarkson (The Sunday Times, May 12)
I went to the finals of the Madrid Open tennis championships last weekend, where a spindly man from Russia was set to face an unseeded French Canadian, who turned up in a cowslip yellow version of the fetching playsuit that Sean Connery wore in Goldfinger.
The spindly man made a shaky start, and it looked like General Montcalm was on course for an amazing victory. But then the man with legs like pipe cleaners started to fight back. And you could sense the tension. In one corner of the stadium, you had Montcalm’s friends, family and trainers writhing in a cauldron of dopamine and serotonin, willing their man to hang on in there. And in the other corner, there was a tribe of Russians doing exactly the same thing.
It was a good match with some epic baseline rallies, a lot of nifty backspin dolly drops, and a palpable sense of infectious excitement from all the tennis fans in the stadium. Me included. It was gripping and fascinating, but here’s the thing: I absolutely couldn’t care less who won. I’ve no love for Russia at the moment, obviously, and I think the French Canadians need a smacked bottom. James Wolfe won: get over it and speak English. But watching the fight was tremendous. And of course, that brings me on to the general election.
All over Westminster, there are hundreds of people who are frothing at the mouth with anticipation of the forthcoming duel. Wonks. Journalists. Lobbyists. They love the fight, the game. They meet and gossip and when you see them huddled round an embarrassing Student Time YouTube clip that’s just emerged, you sense they are actually aroused.
They wait in a mummified state, like the flight controllers at Nasa when a spaceship is in the re-entry radio blackout zone, for someone on the front line to say something which is at odds with the party line. Or for a junior minister to appear on the BBC News programme and not know the price of a loaf of bread. Then that’s it. Their down-the-line winner.
Every small mistake, every bacon sandwich moment, is pounced upon with delirious glee. They wait, like Frost did when he was in the third round against Nixon, for Angela Rayner to admit she had two houses, or no houses, because that’ll be that in their eyes. Game, set and match.
Of course, those in the Sunak dugout will noisily explain that this is proof that she’s Ronald Biggs in a frock. While at the other end of the court, Sir Starmer’s gatekeepers will argue that she’s only human. And news of all of these titbits will be broadcast with squeaky glee to a wider audience than the one watching Baby Reindeer.
I usually care about a general election. And I certainly cared about the Brexit referendum. But this time round, you can vote for a party that’s useless by accident. Or a party that will be useless on purpose. So it really doesn’t matter who wins. It won’t change your life in any way, shape or form.
Cancel culture and a woke civil service means the Conservatives won’t even be allowed to say what they want to do, let alone actually do it. And the Labourites will be prevented from making the changes they want by the world’s financial markets, and common sense.
We are told that if the Tories win, non-doms will continue to avoid paying taxes, which won’t make a ha’porth of difference to you because you don’t even know what a non-dom is. And then we have news that if the Labourists win, people will no longer be able to buy their council houses. And that doesn’t affect you either.
Then you’ve got Sir Starmer on the trans issue. He implied last year that a woman can have a penis and immediately the Westminster fanboy bubble went bananas. “HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT A WOMAN IS,” they bellowed. And we all sat at home, sighing and thinking: “Yes he does. He just can’t say it, because unlike JK Rowling, he needs a job”.
We saw a similar thing with Mr Rishi when footage emerged of him saying he doesn’t have any working-class friends. Straight away the wonks were out of their seats, spitting with fury as they explained he only eats swan and that he uses his butler’s children as footstools. Meanwhile, you were thinking: “I really ought to mow the lawn.”
Doubtless there will be fans of the political system bouncing up and down in their seats right now, pointing to the recent council elections in which a Muslim chap, standing on the Green ticket, celebrated his win by saying it was a victory for Gaza, and referred to a local Jewish chap as a “kind of animal”. He sounds like the sort of chap who manages to be daft and unpleasant all at the same time, but he’s in Leeds and most of you aren’t, so what does it matter if his head’s full of silly nonsense? All he’s going to be able to do in the next five years is have a very small say on where the next park bench will be built.
It’s not a completely different story for whoever wins the general election. They may have the power to make changes, but only in the same way that they have the power to drop a nuclear bomb on Belgium. It’s not actually going to happen.
The fact is that we will be treated to a bombardment of promises and polls in the coming months. And it will be a good spectator sport. But it doesn’t really matter who wins because the pot holes will continue to give you punctures, the trains will continue to be unreliable, air travel will continue to be a nightmare, NHS waiting lists will continue to be barbaric, the navy’s missiles will continue to misfire, the small boats will continue to arrive, farmers will continue to get a kicking, bills will continue to land on the doormat, we’ll all continue to pay taxes and we’ll all continue to die.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
And here's the Sun column: "I’ll be staying in the UK this summer and not going abroad – here’s why."
Clarkson's columns are regularly collected as books. You can buy them from his boss or your local bookshop.

Sorry this may be long. I am an extremely motivated person and hard working. Prior military, business owner for many years and just retired young at the age 58. Very Alpha personality in great shape. Like many people, I have a sexual fetish and that absolutely turns me on more than anything else. I even know where it started. I lost my virginity to our towns slut when a friend invited me to go have sex with her. She agreed and I watched my friend have sex with her first and then, I had my turn. I loved watching them and I actually loved the fact that she was more than ok sleeping around. It was empowering for her. Ever since I have had a shared girlfriend/wife fetish. My first wife I married while we were still both in the military and it was more a marriage of convenience for extra pay. She was shared and I loved every minute of it. Plenty of young military men happy to help out. I am not into swapping, I am not gay or bi but I love to watch and then reclaim my woman. I also love the taboo aspect of the dynamic. We got divorced when I left the military. My next 7 years relationship was exactly the same. I told her up front what I was into and she signed on. We had a great run but I was offered a job overseas and we split as friends. I met my current wife in Europe. She is 10 years younger and from a eastern block country. We dated for two years and she clearly wanted to get married. I explained to her my history and my fetish. Even showed her videos of my prior experiences. We discussed it extensively and she had lots of questions. when I thought the time was right I told her I would marry her if she would agree to being a shared wife. That she was to have at least one sex partner for regular sex for the duration of our marriage. She agreed, with the agreement that it doesn’t turn into a swingers relationship and that she doesn’t want to see me with anyone ever! There was a lot of discussions so there would be no surprises later. I agreed, I had tried that in my previous relationship and it wasn’t my thing. I didn’t like to swing or swap. I liked to watch and then have reclaiming sex after. We got married, moved to Florida and we had a few MFM 3 ways but they were very few and far between. She then changed the dynamic and said she would prefer to have sex along with them. We tried that a few times but then she just stopped the extra sex all together. It has now been over 10 years since I watched her have sex. It has been 4 or 5 since she had sex with anyone else. Our sex life is also down to once a month maybe. We have now been together for 20 years and we have no children. We have stayed together because we have an ok life and we are financially independent. During that time my wife has attended colleges and has multiple degrees. She has had a very profitable career in a field we share and has wanted for nothing. It has been my lifelong dream of mine to retire in the Virgin Islands. December, I purchased a very nice 4/4 home with an amazing view of the ocean. I paid cash and we never have to work again or worry about money. I absolutely love it here. My wife hates it. She is threatening divorce if we do not more back to the states at once. The issue is there are no malls here. No fancy nail salons or country clubs. There are areas on the island that are run down. The roads a bad and the power loss is common. We have our own generator so that really isn’t an issue. She doesn’t have many friends state side, so missing friends is not the problem. She has just become a spoiled American who wants a posh lifestyle. I have two options. Sell my dream home and give up my dream that I worked for my entire life and give in to her demands. Or divorce her after 20+ years, give her half of everything we own and start over at nearly 60z I feel like I have already lost my sex life that was our agreement. I should not have to give up my dream life and house as well. I lived up to my promise. I took her from a shit hole country, married her, educated her, made her very wealthy. I worked my entire life to retire in my dream location in my dream house. I feel as if I could justify one or the other but I am having a hard time justifying the loss of both. Is it too late to find someone right for me at this age? Am I the Asshole?

I am hairy and an artist spotted and wishes to do hairy back art on my back by shaving. The artist offered to pay me and when he does a piece of artwork on my hairy back, I am to walk around the area topless so people can see the art. I decided to do it and it was good money. I have got to compliment the artist and he was very good at shaving my back into a piece of artwork. As I walk around the area some people scoff at me and some are impressed.
Then I got into an argument with the artist when he still demanded that I walk around the area while it was rainy and cold but still topless. I still did it though and then the artist scolded me when my body hair grew back which ruined his artwork. He threatened me that he would stab me if I ever did that to him again but I did try to explain to him that I have no control over how fast my body hair grows. He didn't listen to me at all and he then shaved another piece of artwork on my back and he now told me that I needed to walk into play areas and nurseries while completely topless.
I tried to argue but I did as I was told and as you can guess the police arrived and scolded me and the artists, at least this time the artists got a telling off. I took a bit of time off and my body hair grew back and when the artist called me as he had another idea for another piece of artwork on my hairy back, he was going to pay me a bit more for it as well.
As I took my top off for the artist to start shaving his artwork on me, he started shouting at me for betraying him. He scolded me for going to another artist and I tried to tell him that I never did such a thing and then when he showed me what was on my back, I couldn't believe it. You know how UFOs or aliens always do circular crop circles on farmlands, on my hairy back there were these circular shapes my hair was putting out, exactly like crop circles. He told me to get lost.
Now he likes to show revenge towards me by showing me his new hairy man and even hairy woman on social media, that he is shaving his art on now. I keep telling him that I never betrayed him.

I am hairy and an artist spotted and wishes to do hairy back art on my back by shaving. The artist offered to pay me and when he does a piece of artwork on my hairy back, I am to walk around the area topless so people can see the art. I decided to do it and it was good money. I have got to compliment the artist and he was very good at shaving my back into a piece of artwork. As I walk around the area some people scoff at me and some are impressed.
Then I got into an argument with the artist when he still demanded that I walk around the area while it was rainy and cold but still topless. I still did it though and then the artist scolded me when my body hair grew back which ruined his artwork. He threatened me that he would stab me if I ever did that to him again but I did try to explain to him that I have no control over how fast my body hair grows. He didn't listen to me at all and he then shaved another piece of artwork on my back and he now told me that I needed to walk into play areas and nurseries while completely topless.
I tried to argue but I did as I was told and as you can guess the police arrived and scolded me and the artists, at least this time the artists got a telling off. I took a bit of time off and my body hair grew back and when the artist called me as he had another idea for another piece of artwork on my hairy back, he was going to pay me a bit more for it as well.
As I took my top off for the artist to start shaving his artwork on me, he started shouting at me for betraying him. He scolded me for going to another artist and I tried to tell him that I never did such a thing and then when he showed me what was on my back, I couldn't believe it. You know how UFOs or aliens always do circular crop circles on farm lands, on my hairy back there were these circular shapes my hair was putting out, exactly like crop circles. He told me to get lost.
Now he likes to show revenge towards me by showing me his new hairy man and even hairy woman on social media, that he is shaving his art on now. I keep telling him that I never betrayed him.

In a time before time, a great dragon wandered the spirit world. Her scales were bright and golden like the sun, her eyes red as fire and on her back, she carried a wonderful garden, always green and bountiful. The great dragon Zakula allowed every soul who had lost themselves in dreamtime to rest here and find their way again.
Zakula was the greatest, the kindest of all dragons and she had two suitors in those days, Kadath and the Nameless One. The former, while loud and wild, had a good heart and honestly loved Zakula while the latter had impure intentions. So she chose Kadath.
This enraged the Nameless One. He shaped his jealousy into a host of terrible monsters and attacked Zakula on the eve of her wedding. Kadath came too late. He could only watch as the love of his immortal life was slain and her body taken away.
If the Nameless One could not have Zakula, he wanted nobody to have her. He took her body to his lair and dismembered the great goddess. From her flesh and bones, he fashioned the material world we live in today and from her thoughts, he fashioned all that breathes.
The Nameless One created disease, pain and death and set all his demons upon the world. A world created sick and then ordered on pain of eternal torment to be well again, so he could feed off the pain and fear of all Zakula’s denizens and become more powerful than all the other dragons.
But things did not turn out as the Nameless One hoped.
The tyrant had intended for the sky to be black at all times and made his creations afraid of darkness. But Avastaja, son of Kadath’s sister Kavijohka and her husband Vellamun, found a way into this corrupted world. He dug a cave and his wife Aiwana painted the walls, showing all the other spirits where to go.
So Avastaja’s siblings followed him. First of all, the lightbringer Lukilan, then Sojulan, Turikan, Lumika, Aurinka and Talika. They became the Star Dragons, the first lights in our world. As they pushed away the darkness, Zakula’s heart started beating again inside all the beings trapped here.
Soon, Kavijohka followed, taking her place as the moon. Then her husband Vellamun took the oceans away from the Nameless One and finally, Kadath burst into this world. His love for Zakula still burned so bright, her golden light engulfed him and he became the sun.
After a long battle created night and day, the Nameless One’s own spite came to haunt him. The pain and fear caused by all his misdeeds materialized into a terrible monster, a dragon with three heads, three tails and three pairs of wings. Its fire burned the skies themselves, its wings blew oceans ashore. But before this monster could destroy them all, the sons of Kadath’s brother Räkimarak captured the Nameless One and imprisoned him at the deepest point of their father’s realm, the underworld. The beast followed, but it could not reach the lowest pit and was itself soon trapped. Räkimarak named this monster Tathorak and swore to keep it and the Nameless One imprisoned for all time.
After this battle, the dragons looked upon the material world. The Nameless One had created nothing, he had merely twisted Zakula’s beauty. As they beheld disease and hunger for the first time, the dragons were horrified. They wanted to destroy this world, let Zakula rest.
But Aiwana and Avastaja knew the heart of Zakula was still beating underneath all of it. To show the others, they disguised themselves as the Nameless One and ordered the mortal woman Mahaseta to sacrifice one of her own beloved children. But Mahaseta refused. First she begged for the life of her children, then she offered her own life instead and when the disguised Avastaja would not budge, she spat him in the face and defied him to do deal whatever punishment he saw fit. Because nothing could be as bad as having to kill just one of your own children.
As she spoke these words, Mahaseta turned into the great white mammoth. The first guardian of the material world. Her children ascended too. Such as Retaro, the white tiger, guardian of Amaria.
Now the dragons realized finally, Zakula’s divine spark had survived in all that lives. But the light would need to be nurtured. So they named this material world of ours Zakula in honor of the great goddess and gave their all to nurture it.
Räkimarak took it upon himself to care for the souls of everyone who died in the material world and guide them to a safe rebirth. His wife Idaka took on the task of reuniting the souls of lovers in their next lives. She became the goddess of love and beauty, dwelling in the darkest of places where her light would shine the brightest.
Kadath however remained lonely in the sky for a long time, but he always kept his heart open. Eventually, Zakula's love for him was reborn in a new shape, a dragon named Inari. She married Kadath, but the terrible memory had left a scar on her soul. Mother nature, while caring, can also be cruel and unfair. The tyrant had created a world where some beings are cursed to live by killing others, where some animal parents have to kill the children of other animals to feed their own and Inari is the custodian of this world. She only cares about balance, not about pain or fairness.
So Kadath, the sun, took on his mantle as the god of justice to try his best and set things right. With his light he sees all, trying to ease the injustices of this world. He and Inari argue a lot, but love each other very much. Every year, the memories of how her past life ended come back to haunt Inari. She falls into a deep sleep and the land freezes with her nightmares manifesting as the darkness of winter. But whenever this happens, Kadath stays by her side and continues to light the world with his fire. No matter how hard it is with all his grief.

My wife and I recently spent the week in Paris. During our trip, we booked the "Find your scent in the Marais" experience through Paris Muse (https://parismuse.com/tours/find-your-scent-in-the-marais/) (I chose Paris Muse based on a recommendation in this thread from a fellow Redditor - can't find the exact thread to tag but THANK YOU!!!).
I can't say enough good things about the overall experience, but I will do my best to do it justice below.
Our guide, Madeline (https://parismuse.com/guides/madeline-bobo/) spent time with us educating about the history of perfume, differences between expectations between Europe and the US, and then walked us through what I can best describe as a "journey through scents" to help us identify what base ingredient families and scents both my wife and I were inclined towards.
She then led us on a walkabout through the Marais to multiple niche perfume stores, educating us about specific brands and facilitating conversations with the employees at the various location at each stop. Her relationships with the employees and in some cases the "noses" of each of these business's provided us additional learning opportunities throughout. She also ensured that we tested ingredients that can have a negative reaction on different skin types to ensure we avoided anything that would result in us smelling like rotten eggs, etc. (I had no idea the degree of influence our own bodies plays on the impact and end result of fragrance!).
By the end of the tour, my wife and I both picked at least one bottle of perfume to purchase (price of a bottle is not included in the cost of the tour) that complimented our skin and our personalities.
This is not just a "women's tour" - highly recommend this for men wanting to find perfumes which can help establish or solidify their corporate/personal "brands".
I cannot say enough good things about Madeline and our overall experience. She's a fantastically knowledgeable guide who uses her experiences living in Paris over the past several years to share aspects of the Parisian culture and lifestyle that would be missed otherwise. Madeline's personality, her knowledge, and her passion for this topic elevate this from "just another tour" to a world-class experience.
Of all the things we did and saw in Paris (including seeing Taylor Swift, a private boat tour on the Seine, and eating at David Toutain's restaurant), this experience remains my overall favorite.

This is an expansion of a recent post and also incorporates some ideas from this theory (by u/ndependent-Design17). Throughout the series the reader is repeatedly reminded that "only death can pay for life" — that magic, especially powerful magic, comes at great cost.

"Only death can pay for life, my lord. A great gift requires a great sacrifice.”

Davos, ASOS
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.

1. establishing the concept of the soul

Oh, to be sure, there is much we do not understand. The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem… but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.

Bran, AGOT
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:

The white world turned and fell away. For a moment it was as if he were inside the weirwood, gazing out through carved red eyes as a dying man twitched feebly on the ground and a madwoman danced blind and bloody underneath the moon, weeping red tears and ripping at her clothes. Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that’s in it, he thought, exulting.

Prologue, ADWD
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection of a soul from one body into another. The process of transferring souls to either the animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.

“Someone else was in the raven,” he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. “Some girl. I felt her.”
“A woman, of those who sing the song of earth,” his teacher said. “Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy’s flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you.”
"Do all the birds have singers in them?"
“All,” Lord Brynden said.

Bran, ADWD
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:

"The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.”
Other beasts were best left alone, the hunter had declared. Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you. Elk and deer were prey; wear their skins too long, and even the bravest man became a coward. Bears, boars, badgers, weasels … Haggon did not hold with such. “Some skins you never want to wear, boy. You won’t like what you’d become.” Birds were the worst, to hear him tell it. “Men were not meant to leave the earth. Spend too much time in the clouds and you never want to come back down again.
...
"They say you forget," Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death.
"When the man's flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains."

Prologue, ADWD
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporaneous Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.

The weirwood had his brother’s face. Had his brother always had three eyes?
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
"Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this." And the tree reached down and touched him.

Jon, ACOK
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, and smells of death. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)

2. shadow magic requires souls

As above the reader is repeatedly reminded throughout the series that "only death can pay for life." What is specifically being sacrificed, though? Is the magic being fueled by the blood of the sacrificed or by something else?
To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.

Shadows only live when given birth by light, and the king's fires burn so low I dare not draw off any more to make another son. It might well kill him."
Melisandre moved closer.
"With another man, though... a man whose flames still burn hot and high... if you truly wish to serve your king's cause, come to my chamber one night. I could give you pleasure such as you have never known, and with your life-fire I could make..."

Davos, ASOS
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is also specifically described as having the shape Stannis. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
The exchange of seed for soul is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King.

A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well. (Credit to u/DigLost5791 for this reference.)

Bran, ASOS
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:

The look of him was a shock. He seemed ten years older than the man that Davos had left at Storm’s End when he set sail for the Blackwater and the battle that would be their undoing. The king’s close-cropped beard was spiderwebbed with grey hairs, and he had dropped two stone or more of weight. He had never been a fleshy man, but now the bones moved beneath his skin like spears, fighting to cut free. Even his crown seemed too large for his head. His eyes were blue pits lost in deep hollows, and the shape of a skull could be seen beneath his face.

Davos, ASOS
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."

What little flesh he’d carried on his tall, spare frame at Deepwood Motte had melted away during the march. The shape of his skull could be seen under his skin, and his jaw was clenched so hard Asha feared his teeth might shatter.

Asha, ADWD
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.

“I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning … burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing.
"…what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”
“Everything,” said Davos, softly.

Davos, ASOS
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically.

3. blood and fire magic

As opposed to the creation of the shadows described above, we are also provided an example of blood magic in the leech burning ritual.

“Give me the boy, Your Grace. It is the surer way. The better way. Give me the boy and I shall wake the stone dragon.”
...
Melisandre bowed her head stiffly, and said, “As my king commands.” Reaching up her left sleeve with her right hand, she flung a handful of powder into the brazier. The coals roared. As pale flames writhed atop them, the red woman retrieved the silver dish and brought it to the king. Davos watched her lift the lid. Beneath were three large black leeches, fat with blood. The boy’s blood, Davos knew. A king’s blood. Stannis stretched forth a hand, and his fingers closed around one of the leeches.
“Say the name,” Melisandre commanded.

Davos, ASOS
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.). It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual was responsible.
The creation of the shadows required part of Stannis' soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described, at least in the community, separately as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the series:

“Shadow?" Davos felt his flesh prickling. "A shadow is a thing of darkness."
”You are more ignorant than a child, ser knight. There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows."

Davos, ACOK
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. Fire consumes.
After Alester Florent is sacrificed on Dragonstone Davos describes "the smell of burning flesh" on the wind:

Melisandre had given Alester Florent to her god on Dragonstone, to conjure up the wind that bore them north. Lord Florent had been strong and silent as the queen's men bound him to the post, as dignified as any half-naked man could hope to be, but as the flames licked up his legs he had begun to scream, and his screams had blown them all the way to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, if the red woman could be believed. Davos had misliked that wind. It had seemed to him to smell of burning flesh, and the sound of it was anguished as it played amongst the lines.

Davos, ADWD
Whether these forms of magic are actually interchangeable or not — whether they each require the consumption of souls — is difficult to prove based on the text. It appears likely given the association between these concepts that sacrifice that powered this "anguished wind" was that of a soul and not a body or blood.

4. dancing shadows

The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.
Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.
...
No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see?
Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.
“The Lamb Woman knows the secrets of the birthing bed,” Irri said. “She said so, I heard her.”
“Yes,” Doreah agreed, “I heard her too.”
No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! She screamed. The dancers!
Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.

Daenerys, AGOT
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described essentially as a lifeless husk:

"He seems to like the warmth, Princess," Ser Jorah said. "His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips."

Daenerys, AGOT
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows, likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.

“The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust."

Daenerys, AGOT

5. reanimation

If "only death can pay for life" and souls are used as a form of magical currency how does one explain the reanimation or resurrection process?
There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)

“Thoros, how many times have you brought me back now?”
The red priest bowed his head. “It is R’hllor who brings you back, my lord. The Lord of Light. I am only his instrument.”
“How many times?” Lord Beric insisted.
“Six,” Thoros said reluctantly.
“And each time is harder. You have grown reckless, my lord. Is death so very sweet?”
Arya, ASOS

There is no immediately identifiable cost for the "kiss of life" and repeated resurrection of Beric. I speculate that Thoros is breathing part of his soul into Beric during this process.

“That first time, his lordship had a hole right through him and blood in his mouth, I knew there was no hope. So when his poor torn chest stopped moving, I gave him the good god's own kiss to send him on his way. I filled my mouth with fire and breathed the flames inside him, down his throat to lungs and heart and soul. The last kiss it is called, and many a time I saw the old priests bestow it on the Lord's servants as they died." (Credit to u/watchersontheweb for providing this quote in the initial thread.)

Arya, ASOS
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.

“Here’s the wizard, skinny squirrel. You’ll get your answers now.”
He pointed toward the fire, where Tom Sevenstrings stood talking to a tall thin man with oddments of old armor buckled on over his ratty pink robes. That can’t be Thoros of Myr. Arya remembered the red priest as fat, with a smooth face and a shiny bald head. This man had a droopy face and a full head of shaggy grey hair. Something
...
“Thoros of Myr. You used to shave your head.”
“To betoken a humble heart, but in truth my heart was vain. Besides, I lost my razor in the woods.” The priest slapped his belly. “I am less than I was, but more. A year in the wild will melt the flesh off a man. Would that I could find a tailor to take in my skin. I might look young again, and pretty maids would shower me with kisses.”

Arya, ASOS
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he may not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Thoros later describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:

“The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And… she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose.”

Brienne, AFFC
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn.

6. cold shadows (wild speculation)

The terms "white shadows," "pale shadows," and "cold shadows" are repeated used to describe the Others. The Others are also highly associated with ghosts — the spirits of souls of the dead bound to the earth. (The forrest is literally called the Haunted Forrest.)

The Others made no sound.
Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone. Branches stirred gently in the wind, scratching at one another with wooden fingers. Will opened his mouth to call down a warning, and the words seemed to freeze in his throat. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it had only been a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the moonlight. What had he seen, after all?
“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand. He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. “Answer me! Why is it so cold?” It was cold.
Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch. His face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel. He could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek. A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. ...
The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.

Prologue, AGOT
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children has been previously discussed at length in the community.) Whereas fire consumes, ice preserves.
This would explain several unusual characteristics of the Others as described by Tormund

“Tormund,” Jon said, as they watched four old women pull a cartful of children toward the gate, “tell me of our foe. I would know all there is to know of the Others.”
The wildling rubbed his mouth. “Not here,” he mumbled, “not this side o’ your Wall.” The old man glanced uneasily toward the trees in their white mantles. “They’re never far, you know. They won’t come out by day, not when that old sun’s shining, but don’t think that means they went away. Shadows never go away. Might be you don’t see them, but they’re always clinging to your heels.”
...
Tormund turned back.
"You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up… how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth … air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest … you do not know, you cannot know … can your sword cut cold?"

Jon, ADWD
A reasonable interpretation of this is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which is in keeping with their nature as spirits.

“The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said. “You’ll find no prints to mark their passage.”

Samwell, ASOS

7. conclusions

This highly speculative theory that attempts to reconcile the several seemingly disparate concepts in the series related to magic, namely the actual nature of magical sacrifice ("only death can pay for life") and shadows or shadow magic. More specifically, I suggest that souls are the primary magical currency and can be consumed to summon shadows, create glamours, etc. I also speculate that similar processes took place during Mirri Maz Duur's shadow-binding ritual in AGOT and during the repeated resurrections of Berric Dondarrion in ASOS. I further suggest that the Others are ghosts, the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth.
EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues

This is an expansion of a recent post and also incorporates some ideas from this theory (by u/ndependent-Design17). Throughout the series the reader is repeatedly reminded that "only death can pay for life" — that magic, especially powerful magic, comes at great cost.

"Only death can pay for life, my lord. A great gift requires a great sacrifice.”

Davos, ASOS
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.

1. establishing the concept of the soul

Oh, to be sure, there is much we do not understand. The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem… but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.

Bran, AGOT
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:

The white world turned and fell away. For a moment it was as if he were inside the weirwood, gazing out through carved red eyes as a dying man twitched feebly on the ground and a madwoman danced blind and bloody underneath the moon, weeping red tears and ripping at her clothes. Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that’s in it, he thought, exulting.

Prologue, ADWD
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection of a soul from one body into another. The process of transferring souls to either the animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.

“Someone else was in the raven,” he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. “Some girl. I felt her.”
“A woman, of those who sing the song of earth,” his teacher said. “Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy’s flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you.”
"Do all the birds have singers in them?"
“All,” Lord Brynden said.

Bran, ADWD
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:

"The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.”
Other beasts were best left alone, the hunter had declared. Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you. Elk and deer were prey; wear their skins too long, and even the bravest man became a coward. Bears, boars, badgers, weasels … Haggon did not hold with such. “Some skins you never want to wear, boy. You won’t like what you’d become.” Birds were the worst, to hear him tell it. “Men were not meant to leave the earth. Spend too much time in the clouds and you never want to come back down again.
...
"They say you forget," Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death.
"When the man's flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains."

Prologue, ADWD
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporaneous Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.

The weirwood had his brother’s face. Had his brother always had three eyes?
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
"Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this." And the tree reached down and touched him.

Jon, ACOK
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, and smells of death. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)

2. shadow magic requires souls

As above the reader is repeatedly reminded throughout the series that "only death can pay for life." What is specifically being sacrificed, though? Is the magic being fueled by the blood of the sacrificed or by something else?
To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.

Shadows only live when given birth by light, and the king's fires burn so low I dare not draw off any more to make another son. It might well kill him."
Melisandre moved closer.
"With another man, though... a man whose flames still burn hot and high... if you truly wish to serve your king's cause, come to my chamber one night. I could give you pleasure such as you have never known, and with your life-fire I could make..."

Davos, ASOS
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is also specifically described as having the shape Stannis. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
The exchange of seed for soul is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King.

A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well. (Credit to u/DigLost5791 for this reference.)

Bran, ASOS
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:

The look of him was a shock. He seemed ten years older than the man that Davos had left at Storm’s End when he set sail for the Blackwater and the battle that would be their undoing. The king’s close-cropped beard was spiderwebbed with grey hairs, and he had dropped two stone or more of weight. He had never been a fleshy man, but now the bones moved beneath his skin like spears, fighting to cut free. Even his crown seemed too large for his head. His eyes were blue pits lost in deep hollows, and the shape of a skull could be seen beneath his face.

Davos, ASOS
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."

What little flesh he’d carried on his tall, spare frame at Deepwood Motte had melted away during the march. The shape of his skull could be seen under his skin, and his jaw was clenched so hard Asha feared his teeth might shatter.

Asha, ADWD
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.

“I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning … burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing.
"…what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”
“Everything,” said Davos, softly.

Davos, ASOS
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically.

3. blood and fire magic

As opposed to the creation of the shadows described above, we are also provided an example of blood magic in the leech burning ritual.

“Give me the boy, Your Grace. It is the surer way. The better way. Give me the boy and I shall wake the stone dragon.”
...
Melisandre bowed her head stiffly, and said, “As my king commands.” Reaching up her left sleeve with her right hand, she flung a handful of powder into the brazier. The coals roared. As pale flames writhed atop them, the red woman retrieved the silver dish and brought it to the king. Davos watched her lift the lid. Beneath were three large black leeches, fat with blood. The boy’s blood, Davos knew. A king’s blood. Stannis stretched forth a hand, and his fingers closed around one of the leeches.
“Say the name,” Melisandre commanded.

Davos, ASOS
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.). It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual was responsible.
The creation of the shadows required part of Stannis' soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described, at least in the community, separately as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the series:

“Shadow?" Davos felt his flesh prickling. "A shadow is a thing of darkness."
”You are more ignorant than a child, ser knight. There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows."

Davos, ACOK
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. Fire consumes.
After Alester Florent is sacrificed on Dragonstone Davos describes "the smell of burning flesh" on the wind:

Melisandre had given Alester Florent to her god on Dragonstone, to conjure up the wind that bore them north. Lord Florent had been strong and silent as the queen's men bound him to the post, as dignified as any half-naked man could hope to be, but as the flames licked up his legs he had begun to scream, and his screams had blown them all the way to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, if the red woman could be believed. Davos had misliked that wind. It had seemed to him to smell of burning flesh, and the sound of it was anguished as it played amongst the lines.

Davos, ADWD
Whether these forms of magic are actually interchangeable or not — whether they each require the consumption of souls — is difficult to prove based on the text. It appears likely given the association between these concepts that sacrifice that powered this "anguished wind" was that of a soul and not a body or blood.

4. dancing shadows

The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.
Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.
...
No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see?
Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.
“The Lamb Woman knows the secrets of the birthing bed,” Irri said. “She said so, I heard her.”
“Yes,” Doreah agreed, “I heard her too.”
No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! She screamed. The dancers!
Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.

Daenerys, AGOT
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described essentially as a lifeless husk:

"He seems to like the warmth, Princess," Ser Jorah said. "His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips."

Daenerys, AGOT
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows, likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.

“The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust."

Daenerys, AGOT

5. reanimation

If "only death can pay for life" and souls are used as a form of magical currency how does one explain the reanimation or resurrection process?
There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)

“Thoros, how many times have you brought me back now?”
The red priest bowed his head. “It is R’hllor who brings you back, my lord. The Lord of Light. I am only his instrument.”
“How many times?” Lord Beric insisted.
“Six,” Thoros said reluctantly.
“And each time is harder. You have grown reckless, my lord. Is death so very sweet?”
Arya, ASOS

There is no immediately identifiable cost for the "kiss of life" and repeated resurrection of Beric. I speculate that Thoros is breathing part of his soul into Beric during this process.

“That first time, his lordship had a hole right through him and blood in his mouth, I knew there was no hope. So when his poor torn chest stopped moving, I gave him the good god's own kiss to send him on his way. I filled my mouth with fire and breathed the flames inside him, down his throat to lungs and heart and soul. The last kiss it is called, and many a time I saw the old priests bestow it on the Lord's servants as they died." (Credit to u/watchersontheweb for providing this quote in the initial thread.)

Arya, ASOS
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.

“Here’s the wizard, skinny squirrel. You’ll get your answers now.”
He pointed toward the fire, where Tom Sevenstrings stood talking to a tall thin man with oddments of old armor buckled on over his ratty pink robes. That can’t be Thoros of Myr. Arya remembered the red priest as fat, with a smooth face and a shiny bald head. This man had a droopy face and a full head of shaggy grey hair. Something
...
“Thoros of Myr. You used to shave your head.”
“To betoken a humble heart, but in truth my heart was vain. Besides, I lost my razor in the woods.” The priest slapped his belly. “I am less than I was, but more. A year in the wild will melt the flesh off a man. Would that I could find a tailor to take in my skin. I might look young again, and pretty maids would shower me with kisses.”

Arya, ASOS
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he may not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Thoros later describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:

“The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And… she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose.”

Brienne, AFFC
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn.

6. cold shadows (wild speculation)

The terms "white shadows," "pale shadows," and "cold shadows" are repeated used to describe the Others. The Others are also highly associated with ghosts — the spirits of souls of the dead bound to the earth. (The forrest is literally called the Haunted Forrest.)

The Others made no sound.
Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone. Branches stirred gently in the wind, scratching at one another with wooden fingers. Will opened his mouth to call down a warning, and the words seemed to freeze in his throat. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it had only been a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the moonlight. What had he seen, after all?
“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand. He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. “Answer me! Why is it so cold?” It was cold.
Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch. His face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel. He could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek. A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. ...
The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.

Prologue, AGOT
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children is linked in a separate post here.) Whereas fire consumes, ice preserves.
This would explain several unusual characteristics of the Others as described by Tormund

“Tormund,” Jon said, as they watched four old women pull a cartful of children toward the gate, “tell me of our foe. I would know all there is to know of the Others.”
The wildling rubbed his mouth. “Not here,” he mumbled, “not this side o’ your Wall.” The old man glanced uneasily toward the trees in their white mantles. “They’re never far, you know. They won’t come out by day, not when that old sun’s shining, but don’t think that means they went away. Shadows never go away. Might be you don’t see them, but they’re always clinging to your heels.”
...
Tormund turned back.
"You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up… how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth … air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest … you do not know, you cannot know … can your sword cut cold?"

Jon, ADWD
A reasonable interpretation of this is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which is in keeping with their nature as spirits.

“The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said. “You’ll find no prints to mark their passage.”

Samwell, ASOS

7. conclusions

This highly speculative theory that attempts to reconcile the several seemingly disparate concepts in the series related to magic, namely the actual nature of magical sacrifice ("only death can pay for life") and shadows or shadow magic. More specifically, I suggest that souls are the primary magical currency and can be consumed to summon shadows, create glamours, etc. I also speculate that similar processes took place during Mirri Maz Duur's shadow-binding ritual in AGOT and during the repeated resurrections of Berric Dondarrion in ASOS. I further suggest that the Others are ghosts, the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth.
EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues

I was at the grocery store earlier and had to buy wine for a party I’m going to. They were out of the specific kind I was looking to buy BUT there was an unattended cart right next to the shelf with a bottle of it and since I didn’t see anyone by the cart I just grabbed the bottle.
A minute or two later a woman carrying a baby (maybe 2 years old so not a newborn or anything) comes to the previously mentioned cart. She sees her wine is missing, looks around, and spots it in my cart while I’m halfway down the aisle. She came up to me and asked if I took it from her cart and I told her that I did because nobody was at the cart. She asked for it back and I told her no. She looked pretty young and was visibly pregnant, so I told her that she didn’t need to be drinking at her age let alone when she’s pregnant and already has a young child to take care of, and that if anything I’m doing her a favor.
I could tell she was mad and wanted to argue but I just left the aisle and kept shopping before she could say anything. I felt like I did the right thing by taking the alcohol away from a young mother but honestly now I just feel like that probably wasn’t my place to do that, plus it probably fucked her day up a bit so I feel a little bad.

I'm a 24 year old guy and on paper look like I'd be very successful with women. I'm tall, in good physical shape, I've been told I'm attractive, I've got hobbies that I'm passionate about like drawing, piano, and weightlifting while still balancing it with a full time job in a high paying field that I love working in. My dates always go well because I'm generally personable and have a good sense of humor.
Invariably, with every woman that I've been in a relationship with long term, the same thing happens. We get to talking about sex and they tell me that they want to be pinned down, manhandled, choked: completely physically dominated. I'm simply not capable of that. When I was younger I was sexually abused. It wasn't some life altering traumatic event, but it was a consistent pattern of abusive behavior from an adult in my life over a period of years. It left me with serious body image issues and problems with physical touch. I've been to therapy for both and my therapist believes I've done all I can about the matter in a general sense, all that's left is to work on it with a significant other when the time comes. Vanilla sexual acts are difficult enough for me, let alone taking control in the way all my previous partners wanted me to.
I can't blame any of the women I've been with, from the outside I probably seem like I'd be sexually dominant because I have a strong personality and I have physical traits people associate with masculinity. It's always the same, I communicate that I just can't be sexually dominant like that and it that the idea of it fills me with a sense of dread and anxiety. On a rational level, they want to support me and help me work through my issues. On an emotional level, they lose attraction for me because I'm not what they wanted me to be, and things fizzle out afterwards.
I really want a romantic partner but I've had to accept that the women who would be attracted to me just don't want to be with the person I am deep down. I'm sure there's someone out there who would be happy with me, but time and time again the same story repeats itself and whenever I happen to see a discussion online where women are expressing their sexual preferences, the overwhelming majority desire a dominant man. I'm trying my best to be happy by myself, but some days it's harder than others.

Hello everyone, I've been dealing with a break up that shook up everything about myself for the past 7 months. I just want to write this as a reflective piece. This was a 3 and a half year long relationship.
So I was dating a woman that I met in college (she was slightly older than me so she already had graduated), and the first few months felt like heaven. I never really had a relationship before where I felt so compelled, so in love with someone. And she really was a sweetheart, she did so many nice gestures, date ideas for us, and I was completely in sync and returned the favor as well. But then COVID hit and we went to remote learning/working from home. And this is honestly where our relationship's issues started to come into play, and not because of us (initially). Without revealing anything personal, my ex worked an incredibly abusive and demanding job that would have her often working until midnight or later, every single day. And this went on for years. The issue with this, on top of her trying to study, was that everything in our relationship had to either be cut off or revolve around her job. The thing is though, is that I learned over time (especially once I started my career and worked for a bit), was that she was under no obligation to actually work these insane hours with no overtime. She was just letting her job take advantage of her and essentially bully/pressure her into doing far more work than she needed to. While short-term this was not a huge issue to me, this was also actively eating into her own personal goals and achievements, and was taking a toll on her health as well.
I tried everything in the most polite way possible to convince her to look elsewhere, think of other opportunities (never told her to just outright quit as thats not my place), but she seemed to always dig her heels in and try to complain internally at her job, which literally never worked. It always led to bigger issues down the line. And eventually, it started to genuinely annoy me that our relationship was basically stalling and we were only seeing each other once a week or once every two weeks. I still genuinely loved her (and she really loved me) though, and tried my hardest to support her through it. By comparison, with my first job (which was in an extremely similar field), I was only working 40 hours a week, maybe 50 tops. But it was starting to get extremely worrisome that even by the 2 and a half year mark, I couldn't even get her to come on a vacation without her abruptly having to leave.
I want to make it clear though that despite all these issues, we were always incredibly understanding and honest to each other, and that if I had not made the decision I made, she never would have broken up with me, and probably would have been an incredibly loyal wife. However, after another year of feeling like she was really being more loyal to a shitty job than to me (and some other issues as well, without getting too into it I wasn't really able to bring myself to care about her interests anymore out of frustration, her problems that stemmed from never wanted to confront them was getting to me where I just didn't have it in me anymore, and her friends were pretty much actively shittalking me behind my back despite being significantly more supportive to her than any of her friends were, who basically used her constantly), I decided that I was going to end things with her. I did everything about the break-up correctly and respectfully, I went to her place, said that it wasn't fair for her to date someone that just didn't have it in them anymore, and I left. And that was the last I ever spoke to her.
Ever since I broke up with her, I've been hard blocked, no-contact style on everything by her. And for a long time (and even recently), it sucked hard. Someone that I spent so much time with, someone that I put so much love into, so many deep conversations that left me so happy, to see her just sort of treat me like I don't exist hurt like a motherfucker. I know it was definitely harder for her initially, as I dumped her, the guilt of hurting someone as sweet, smart, and as kind as she was absolutely ruined me. I'm ashamed to admit it, but multiple times I tried to contact her, just to talk, but every time it was met with deafening silence. Nothing.
To make matters worse, within a week of our breakup, I was laid off as well at my job.
But this is where things take a turn.
I was never a fit guy, but from starting a career at a sedentary job and feeling set in life with a beautiful girlfriend, I put on some serious pounds, I went from a little pudgy to straight up fat. I was starting to develop awful acid reflux + I have a nasty double chin when I'm fat, and with my job and my love life gone, I realized that for the first time in my life, I'm going to fight for myself, to be proud of how I look and feel. And thats exactly what I did. I took all of that sorrow, all of that guilt, and I took it to the gym, and I interviewed my ass off with some companies.
Flash forward to seven months later (now), I'm in the best shape I've ever been in my life (sub-20% bodyfat and looking to cut even more), all of my stomach issues disappeared from being active, and now I work at a job far better (and more stable) than my last one. As someone who never seemed to attract women, I'm actually starting to have great conversations and meet new people (although I don't know if I'm ready to start dating again) who genuinely seem interested in me. I feel great, and I feel motivated. I knew it wasn't going to be easy being alone, but I believe I'm doing the right thing. I think anyone going through something like this needs to hear this; don't give up. You put the work into yourself and it'll all come together. Its never too late.
And typing this post was very therapeutic, felt like getting a massive weight off my chest. I still feel the pain of loneliness and missing my ex's compassion and companionship sometimes, but I don't truly regret my decision. I really wish we worked out, but ultimately her inability to confront her problems was her own worst enemy. I'm the exact opposite, I confront my problems head on. I just hope that one day I find someone perfect for me.
Thanks for reading.