deltiitnu-archive

[deltiitnu-archive]

Let’s hear it for the 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃. Who 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 but the 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍? 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒆.

𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝘩𝑠, 𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑖𝑎𝑓, 𝑑𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑐𝑢 !

[deltiitnu-archive]

It's a good day to remember the fact that, in his youth, Aemon was incredibly handsome. Mixed in with the fact that he was also a prince, he was the guy that every girl prayed she would marry. Unfortunately, he wasn't about that life... But that's beside the point.

The point? His eyes were a deep and beautiful violet --- so easy to get lost into, and so many did. He also had a full head of thick and long silver hair. Those common Valyrian traits? Yeah, Aemon had them before time turned his beautiful hair white, and violet eyes clouded and blind.

tldr; aemon was beautiful, and everyone should know it.

[deltiitnu-archive]

Although I’m the WORST at these, and I told myself I wasn’t going to do them, consider this a STARTER CALL. Please specify who you want and all that good stuff.

[deltiitnu-archive]

“You really have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“I don’t know why I believed you.”

“You have no idea how much I hate you.”

“You do realize they’ll never truly love you, right?” 

“You don’t really blame them for cheating on you, do you?”

“Yeah, but they never really loved you to begin with.”

“This tastes like garbage.”

“I could go with you, or I could swallow razor blades.” 

“Your parents have no idea who you are.”

“You sure as hell aren’t here on purpose.”

“Is it really much of a wonder why we broke up?” 

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like if you left.”

“They think you killed her.” // “They think you killed him.” 

“No amount of make up is going to help you right now.”

“I told him you ditched class to fuck your friend.”

“I hope alternate universe you gets hit by a bus.”

“You can’t change what your parents did, so stop making excuses for yourself.”

“Oh.. No, You look disgusting.” 

“Honestly I’d rather die in a fire.” 

“Your life makes Minions look like a masterpiece.”

“Have you ever heard of swimming with cinder blocks? It’s all the rage right now. You should try it sometime.” 

“You belong on the CW and that is so not a compliment.”

“Did you really think you were going to help the situation?” 

“When you say shit like that, it’s literally the reason we can’t be friends.”

“I liked you better when you acted like I actually mattered to you.” 

“Most people would have left you ages ago.”

“You’re the reason they’re dead.”

“You’re not worth the air.”

“You might still have a shot with the blind.”

“Stop fucking cornering me all the time. Haven’t you put it together yet?”

[deltiitnu-archive]

𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝙹𝚘𝚗 / killthebxy‌

          he might have laughed, if the situation was a different one — was anywhere close to normal; the way in which this person had reacted was nothing short of COMICAL, whoever he might be. there was little energy to be spent on humor, however, and let alone when speaking such simple words just now had already been quite the struggle. his voice felt trapped at the back of his throat, and even as he forced it out it’d sounded slurred and strained, almost like he was drunk… which he might well be for all he knew, yet his mind was growing more and more attentive by the second. 

          this room was a hospital one, wasn’t it? what else could it have been, when everything was white and the air was rich with the smell of disinfectant and his body was confined to a bed and many a tube were attached to it? he knew what a hospital was, evidently, even if, at the moment, it was impossible to tell if he’d ever been in one before; a hospital is a place for the injured and the ill, which meant he was either injured, or ill, or both. not the best of prospects to wake up to, granted, but, somehow, he did not feel threatened by it — at least, not just yet. it felt a bit like that stage of reaching over to silence the alarm clock, split between rolling over to keep snoozing or, instead, to get out of bed and be started with a day of work or school or whatever it might be. fact was, the young man wasn’t completely there just yet, even if his body and brain were more functional than they had been in long weeks — far more than simply lying almost lifeless in that bed, as though a vegetable; far more than allowing all that expensive medical machinery to monitor and control his vital functions for him. after such long slumber, it was no wonder if THE SLEEPING BEAUTY would require a few good minutes to fully transition from fairy tale back to reality.

         before questioning further, then, he spared a moment to let his gaze roam around the room. there was a nightstand very close to the right side of his head, with a few objects: a pocket book, a bottle of water, a small white tray containing more objects he could not identify from the current angle, a small mirror that looked like those that girls usually carried in their purse for make-up emergencies… he knew what all of those were, could name them all if asked, knew what they were supposed to be used for. nothing out of the ordinary. he could notice the weather outside, as well, through the curtains — sunny enough, though he wouldn’t be surprised if it turned to soft rain sooner than later. all of it made sense, all of it was almost like any other awakening in any other place. only the circumstances were not ordinary, and hence focusing attention back on his companion now — dark grey eyes glistening with CURIOSITY, as he tried his best to articulate more words.

‘ where— where am i…? what happened…? ‘

𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑬𝑴𝑬𝑫 𝑨 𝑩𝑰𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑭𝑼𝑺𝑬𝑫, Sam gathered, briefly studying the way that the young man’s dark eyes scattered around the room, in what only seemed to him like a state of mild panic. If he had to hazard a guess, Sam would probably say that he was either trying to figure out who the hell Sam was, and why he was sitting by his bedside or he was actually confused as to what he was doing in a hospital bed altogether in the first place. The latter was actually more common than you would think among comatose patients, he learned. Reading books on top of books about comas, while he sat by the unresponsive patient for months seemed to expand Sam’s knowledge far more than it was already. ( which was saying an awful lot ) A fuzzy memory, he concluded, but one that would eventually resolve itself and begin to clear up quickly, just like he had taken a bit of a nap.

But no, that didn’t seem right. His own doubts quickly began to fortify, recklessly running rampant in the depths of his mind as the two of them sat there in ominous silence for quite some time. Everything was supposed to come crashing back, just like he had read about; he should’ve been in a rage, demanding to know why this strange, fat boy was sitting right beside his bed and watching him sleep. Why isn’t he angry? Sam couldn’t help but think, always anticipating to be the recipient of some kind of anger. In place of anger, instead, came more confusion --- questioning, perhaps to resolve that very thing.

“You’re, erm, in the… You’re-- you’re in the hospital.” He answered meekly, in a voice that sounded as if he was actually the patient in this scenario.

He still doesn’t remember. Why doesn’t he remember yet? The words of doubt replaying consistently in his mind. And it wasn’t his ignorance that led him to doubt the other man’s ability to remember, more so the fact that Sam Tarly was in pure denial; denial of the fact that a horrible situation has taken a turn for the worst. His nerves caused him to spring from his chair, and on to his feet, taking a few steps backward, as if to distance himself from this entire predicament. In doing so, he almost managed to knock over one of the monitors in which the patient had been hooked to through an IV, but fortunately, was able to catch it in spite of his clumsy hands

“I—I think I should probably, um, call… I think I should call a doctor.” He turned around then, desperately beginning to fumble through a few things on the nightstand.

[deltiitnu-archive]

❛ is this a joke to you? ❜ joker prompts                   / @hakune

𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 joke to him. And the fact that he was alone in finding the jest in the current predicament didn’t deter the young prince nor make him laugh any less. Rather, the apparent offense that the youngest Stark girl had taken only seemed to amplify the young Stag’s amusement. _Not only did the Northerners lack wit, but they lacked a sense of humor as well. _He would never truly understand why his father chose to place these kinds of people on the pedestal but he did, but alas. “No, you’re right.” He said then, turning around to look down at the smaller girl. “But your sister didn’t die, did she?” No, I’m afraid that wouldn’t have been any less amusing. All she had done was fall in a fresh pile of mud, ruining the gown that she had been wearing. Doubtless trying to impress the young prince, just as she had been doing since the royal family had first arrived in Winterfell.

[deltiitnu-archive]

❛ i’ll tell you what you get! you get what you fuckin’ deserve! ❜ joker prompts                   / @hakune

“𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 about, Frankie? This is what I deserve?” No, no one ever deserved something like this. No one deserved to be on the brink of death, drowning in a pool of their own blood, and to look up and see their best friend, in point-blank range, pointing a gun at them. But apparently, Billy did. That was enough for him to muster something of a laugh; a feeble attempt, given all the energy that he was without, but he managed. Billy Russo was a former US Marine, after all; he’s been in near-death situations more than he’s been home. And that brief spill of laughter? It wasn’t mockery by any means, but more so a means of drowning out the tears that filled his eyes. “All right, then.” It was a form of surrender. To be honest, thinking about this entire ordeal any longer was serving Billy more physical pain than the gunshot wound he wore on his torso. And that skull that Frank wore on his chest. That damn skull. It made his head throb more than anything else. What hurt the most wasn’t the betrayal of the only family he ever had in his life, ( he accepted that it was Frank who gave him these scars ) it was the unknown.

“All right, man. You win. But you gotta help me out, all right? You gotta tell me.” He tried his best to fight off some more fears, but the attempt was made in vain, as a loud sob was the next thing that came from him. “What did I do?”

[deltiitnu-archive]

☞ dexter morgan; dexter

I love Halloween. The one time of year when everyone wears a mask… not just me. People think it’s fun to pretend you’re a monster. Me, I spend my life pretending I’m not. 

[deltiitnu-archive]

Did you kill all these people? … I did.

[deltiitnu-archive]

[deltiitnu-archive]

❛ is it just me, or is it getting crazier out there? ❜ joker prompts                  / @threecardtrick

𝙒𝙀𝙇𝙇, 𝙄 𝙈𝙀𝘼𝙉… 𝙄 𝙂𝙐𝙀𝙎𝙎 you could call it that, but it was the twenty-first century, and Dexter wasn’t really in a place to pass judgment on people for their choices in fashion. Other things, sure, I guess you could call it that; but what the cool kids were wearing these days didn’t really interest him, to say the least. Live, and let live… That was the saying, right?

But, oh shit, of course! He was in too much of a rush to get back to the station after visiting yet another awful crime scene that he didn’t even notice the blaring TV ( the news was reporting yet another serial killer on the loose in Miami ) in the shop as he waited for his coffee to brew, or even the lanyard he wore around his neck. Nice going, Dex, now you have no one to blame for getting these kinds of comments. “No, it’s definitely not just you!” He commented back, a friendly and toothy smile on his face as his eyes went over to the TV for a moment and giving his head a quick shake in distaste. Poor guy, Dexter thought, little does he know that he is actually talking to the crazy. “Viva Miami, I guess.” The remark was punctuated by a quick and casual shrug.

And was that a fist pump? Jesus Christ, Dexter.

[deltiitnu-archive]

IT’S OKAY TO REPLY TO THREADS AND ASKS “LATE”.  THERE’S NO TIME LIMIT. 

Please DON’T stress yourself out thinking there is a time constraint on these things because there ISN’T.  Reply when you have muse, when you have time, when you’ve taken care of yourself!  But please don’t be afraid to take MONTHS to reply to something!  We all write at different paces!  We all have a life outside of rp!

Writing is a hobby!  It’s not a job, and you’re not obligated to reply to any one thread or ask for any reason!  

It’s okay if you forget about them or if you lose them, too!!  You’re HUMAN.  You’re not perfect, and no one should expect you to be!! 

THE BEST THING YOU CAN DO IS TAKE YOUR TIME.  Roleplaying is a hobby, and if you’re not having fun then it takes out all the joys and magical experiences that can be had!!  The relationships you can form between muses and the friends you can make as writers! 

Not feeling muse for one thread? that’s okay!! want to start another even though we already have 5 going on? THAT’S OKAY, TOO!!  Need to drop one? DON’T SWEAT IT!! YOU come FIRST.  As my rp partner, I want you to put yourself first above this site, above any relationships we’ve formed, any plots we’ve fleshed out! 

I want you to have FUN.  So PLEASE don’t stress! You’re okay, and there’s no such thing as replying ‘late’.  You reply on your own time.  The thread isn’t going anywhere! 

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. <3

[deltiitnu-archive]

idk whats uglier my icons or my laziness to do anything about it

[deltiitnu-archive]

❧    𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

    FEEL FREE TO CHANGE PRONOUNS, WORDING, ETC. TO SUIT YOUR NEEDS

❛ the worst part of having a mental illness is people expect you to behave as if you don’t. ❜

❛ I used to think that my life was a tragedy, but now I realise, it’s a comedy. ❜

❛ you don’t listen, do you? ❜

❛ how’s you job? ❜

❛ are you having any negative thoughts? ❜

❛ all I have are negative thoughts. ❜

❛ for my whole life, I didn’t know if I even really existed. ❜

❛ is it just me, or is it getting crazier out there? ❜

❛ how ‘bout another joke? ❜

❛ no, I think we’ve had enough of your jokes. ❜

❛ I’ll tell you what you get! you get what you fuckin’ deserve! ❜

❛ my mother always tells me to smile and put on a happy face. ❜

❛ she told me I had a purpose: to bring laughter and joy to the world. ❜

❛ I’m waiting for the punchline. ❜

❛ there is no punchline. ❜

❛ is something funny? ❜

❛ I just thought of a funny joke! ❜

❛ nobody’s civil anymore. ❜

❛ comedy is subjective, isn’t that what they say? ❜

❛ they don’t give a shit about people like you. and they don’t give a shit about people like me either. ❜

❛ everybody’s telling me my stand-ups, are ready for the big clubs. ❜

❛ I killed those guys because they were awful. ❜

❛ everybody is awful these days. ❜

❛ it’s enough to make anyone crazy. ❜

❛ I had a bad day. ❜

❛ were you following me today? ❜

❛ ugh, why is everybody so upset about these guys? ❜

❛ if it was me dying on the sidewalk you’d walk right over me! ❜

❛ I pass you everyday and you don’t notice me! ❜

❛ do I look like the kind of clown that can start a movement? ❜

❛ you know I do stand-up comedy, you should come see a show sometime. ❜

❛ I could do that. ❜

❛ all that sacrifice, she must love you very much. ❜

❛ touch my son again and I’ll fucking kill you! ❜

❛ is this a joke to you? ❜

❛ I feel like I know you… I’ve been watching you forever. ❜

❛ would you please stop bothering my kid? ❜

❛ the whole city’s on fire ‘cause of you. ❜

❛ isn’t it beautiful? ❜

[deltiitnu-archive]

A DOLLAR AND A DREAM.

The two things that Billy Russo can say that he actually owned early on in his youth. Well, maybe more so the latter, rather than the former. Abandoned by his father and drug-addicted mother, young Billy spent his youth jumping around between one foster care home to the other. It was during that time that Billy began to develop a deep love and admiration for the game that was known as America’s favorite pastime, baseball.

Being a kid born and raised in New York City, it was no surprise that he found a hero in the Yankee Clipper, Joe DiMaggio. The young boy always found himself in absolute awe whenever DiMaggio stepped up to the plate and performed magic.

One day, he promised himself in silence almost every night before he went to sleep, one day I will have enough money to buy myself a baseball bat and a glove, and I will become the greatest baseball player there ever was! And he didn’t just mean that sincerely; he meant it with every fiber in is being, with the entirety of his heart. One day, Billy Russo was going to become a legendary baseball star — and there was absolutely nothing that could possibly get in the way of his dream.

Despite having absolutely nothing other than what was provided for him at Ray of Hope, the home that he was placed in around the age of ten, Billy took the opportunity to hone his craft whenever he could. Along with a group of other young boys in his foster home, Billy would often spend his days with a broomstick in his hand, imagining that he was holding a bat and standing by home plate at Yankee Stadium while standing on the street and playing stickball with his friends. It didn’t seem possible, but he was beginning to love the game the more that time progressed.

Not only that, but his skills improved too. So much that Billy soon thought of himself as better than most of the other kids are and was always so excited whenever one of the group’s carers, namely a man named Arthur Walsh, would join them for some games of stickball, and basketball. Unfortunately, Billy never even dreamed of the fact that those weren’t the only type of games that Arthur was interested in playing with him.

It started out innocently, but everything seemed to change after a while when Arthur remarked that Billy was pretty. Maybe it was nothing; Billy had always been a good-looking kid and was often told as much, but it was the first time that he had been called pretty — and judging by the way that Arthur looked at him as he said it, his mind was instantly able to register that nothing good was coming.

Although his fear overwhelmed him, it didn’t seem to paralyze him enough to prevent him from acting out in his own defense. Reaching out for the only thing that he was able to get his hands on, Billy grabbed his stickball bat, and began to swing away at his would-be attacker, causing the older man to become progressively more agitated the more that he hit him. In his rage, the older man proceeded to break the young boy’s arm and tear his rotator cuff in three places.

It was immediately after this incident that Billy’s dream died. Maybe it was due to the fact that, although his arm had eventually healed, he was never able to play the same way that he once did, or maybe it was because he could never recover mentally, or maybe it was a combination of both. Whatever the reason, eventually Billy’s former love for the game transitioned into deep hatred for it.

He hated baseball. He hated Joe DiMaggio. And, perhaps above all, he hated himself for ever dreaming of something so stupid.

[deltiitnu-archive]

my skin crawls. there is a wolf underneath it fighting to escape the cage of my ribs. “lose yourself,” the wind whispers manic in the moonlight, I howl back: “I already have.”

this lone wolf will survive - a.j. (via achillics)

[deltiitnu-archive]

❧    𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

    FEEL FREE TO CHANGE PRONOUNS, WORDING, ETC. TO SUIT YOUR NEEDS

❛ the worst part of having a mental illness is people expect you to behave as if you don’t. ❜

❛ I used to think that my life was a tragedy, but now I realise, it’s a comedy. ❜

❛ you don’t listen, do you? ❜

❛ how’s you job? ❜

❛ are you having any negative thoughts? ❜

❛ all I have are negative thoughts. ❜

❛ for my whole life, I didn’t know if I even really existed. ❜

❛ is it just me, or is it getting crazier out there? ❜

❛ how ‘bout another joke? ❜

❛ no, I think we’ve had enough of your jokes. ❜

❛ I’ll tell you what you get! you get what you fuckin’ deserve! ❜

❛ my mother always tells me to smile and put on a happy face. ❜

❛ she told me I had a purpose: to bring laughter and joy to the world. ❜

❛ I’m waiting for the punchline. ❜

❛ there is no punchline. ❜

❛ is something funny? ❜

❛ I just thought of a funny joke! ❜

❛ nobody’s civil anymore. ❜

❛ comedy is subjective, isn’t that what they say? ❜

❛ they don’t give a shit about people like you. and they don’t give a shit about people like me either. ❜

❛ everybody’s telling me my stand-ups, are ready for the big clubs. ❜

❛ I killed those guys because they were awful. ❜

❛ everybody is awful these days. ❜

❛ it’s enough to make anyone crazy. ❜

❛ I had a bad day. ❜

❛ were you following me today? ❜

❛ ugh, why is everybody so upset about these guys? ❜

❛ if it was me dying on the sidewalk you’d walk right over me! ❜

❛ I pass you everyday and you don’t notice me! ❜

❛ do I look like the kind of clown that can start a movement? ❜

❛ you know I do stand-up comedy, you should come see a show sometime. ❜

❛ I could do that. ❜

❛ all that sacrifice, she must love you very much. ❜

❛ touch my son again and I’ll fucking kill you! ❜

❛ is this a joke to you? ❜

❛ I feel like I know you… I’ve been watching you forever. ❜

❛ would you please stop bothering my kid? ❜

❛ the whole city’s on fire 'cause of you. ❜

❛ isn’t it beautiful? ❜