#( sparrow: the seventh. )

[dreamsclocks]

what's the play about?

THANK YOU SO MUCH I WAS WORRIED NOBODY WOULD ASK THIS AND I’D BE STUCK TRYING TO EXPLAIN FROM OTHER ANGLES. anon muah

so essentially we had a theme to work to and the theme was ‘sin’, so ME, being mr. hashtag unoriginal, decided to make it about the seven deadly sins. they’re stuck in a purgatorial room beyond time and space until the seventh sin (sloth) shows up to allow them to start the apocalypse.

it’s only a 20 minute play, but i’m debating making it longer or into a short novel because the characters are so compelling to me 😭

each character is absolutely AWFUL and the people i’ve seen audition for it have embodied that so well it’s so funny .. it’s a comedy but kind of a dark comedy considering the fact that they’re. uhm. the seven deadly sins.

(lust, wrath, sloth, pride, greed, envy, gluttony)

it’s been so much fun to write & is the first time i’ve shared my writing with people irl so it’s been so scary but so rewarding :]

THANK U ANON FOR LETTING ME YAP. IF NO ONE ELSE SENDS ASKS IM GONNA END RB-ING THIS AND YAPPING ANYWAY. BEWARE

[wornoutspines]

R.I.P.D. (Movie Review) | Still as good but in need of a Blumhouse-esque Reboot

#RIPD (2013) | Still as good but in need of a blumhouse-esq reboot #RyanReynolds #JeffBridge #moviereview #MaryLouiseParker #KevinBacon #Throwback #ThrowbackThursday

Based on the comic book created by Peter M. Lenkov and Lucas Marangon, this movie was written by Matt Manfredi (The Boys) and Phil Hay. Robert Schwentke and stars Ryan Reynolds (Deadpool), Jeff Bridges (The Giver), Mary-Louise Parker (Red Sparrow, Mr. Mercedes), and Kevin Bacon (Blackmass, X: First Class). Premise: A recently slain cop joins a team of undead police officers working for the Rest…

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

The Happiness Patrol

Synopsis

The TARDIS arrives on the planet Terra Alpha, where the Seventh Doctor and Ace discover a society in which sadness is against the law - a law enforced zealously by the brightly uniformed Happiness Patrol. The planet is ruled by Helen A with the aid of her companion, Joseph C, and her carnivorous pet Stigorax, Fifi.

The penalty for those found guilty of unhappiness is death in a stream of molten candy prepared by Helen A's executioners, the robotic Kandy Man and his associate, Gilbert M.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted  

Blink

Synopsis

In an abandoned house, the Weeping Angels wait. The only hope to stop them is a young woman named Sally Sparrow and her friend Larry Nightingale. The only catch: the Weeping Angels can move in the blink of an eye. To defeat the ruthless enemy — with only a half of a conversation from the Tenth Doctor as help — the one rule is this: don't turn your back, don't look away and don't blink!

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 60

Very soon after regenerating, the Second Doctor had pulled a large earring out of a trunk in the TARDIS, which he described as very fashionable once and remembered that at one point he used to wear it. (Novel: The Power of the Daleks)

Borusa once wrote a history book titled Rassilon the God. (Cat's Cradle: Time's Crucible)

Like all other Time Lords upon initiation into the Academy, it has been confirmed that Susan once gazed into the Untempered Schism. (Audio: E is for...)

Many years after Nyssa left the Fifth Doctor to stay on Terminus, she had an adventure with the Fourth Doctor. This meant the Doctor had met Nyssa before Traken. (Novel: Asylum)

The First Doctor trained to be a ninja on Quinnis. (Novel: The Devil Goblins from Neptune)

The Ninth Doctor once got stranded when the TARDIS burped and jumped ahead 20 years in the future. From 20 years in the past, he communicated with a 12 year old girl named Sally Sparrow, knowing all about where to leave messages for her because she wrote about it in her homework, and that homework had been given to him by a spy in the future. Sally Sparrow successfully returned the TARDIS to the Doctor and grew up to be that very same spy who gave the Doctor the homework in the first place. (Short story: What I Did on My Christmas Holidays by Sally Sparrow) This story was later adapted into Blink.

Amendment 9 of the Fourth Constitutional Addendum is a Gallifreyan law also known as the "Stupidity Clause." K-9 brought it up while trying to think of a way to get Romana II found innocent during her trial. (Audio: Mindbomb)

On one of their first trips off Gallifrey, the First Doctor and Susan went to Garazone, where Susan bought him a model of the Nightjar after hearing stories about it. The Doctor put it up in the TARDIS. (Audio: Pursuit of the Nightjar)

This Nightjar model is still in the TARDIS by his Eleventh incarnation. (Audio: All of Time and Space)

Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart and Doris once saved Susan from drowning. (Short story: The Gift)

Soul catching refers to the Gallifreyan rite in which a Time Lord transfers their mind to another's shortly before their death, after which their mind will join the Matrix. The Third Doctor used it on Waro once, and the Eighth Doctor once used it to communicate with the Beast. (Novel: The Devil Goblins from Neptune; The Taint)

The Thirteenth Doctor once identified Halogi-Kari as a Harbinger, a rare and powerful race. He was a Wolf of Fenric and had transported Ace to Iceworld on Svartos when she was young. (Novel: At Childhood's End)

The Fifth Doctor once went temporarily blind when he plugged himself into a defense net and got overwhelmed. (Audio: The Children of Seth)

The Eighth Doctor tried to warn the Seventh Doctor of the circumstances of his upcoming regeneration, but the Seventh Doctor decided that he would proceed as he would have anyway (as foreknowledge is dangerous to the Web of Time.) (Novel: The Eight Doctors) This means that the Seventh Doctor knew he was about to die and regenerate in the beginning of the TV Movie.

Near the end of his life, the Seventh Doctor grew depressed and lonely, and he knew he should go to Gallifrey and give himself to the Chief Hospitaller and his team of psycho-techs. Gallifrey had access to neurosurgery, therapy, and drugs, and the last resort was forced regeneration with the hope that the next body would not have the same melancholia. (Novel: The Eight Doctors)

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[vivicantstudy]

Why We Must Care for God’s

Sacred Creatures

What do God and the Bible say about animals?

Animals are a vital part of God’s creation, each one playing a unique role in the world around us. No matter which animal it is—small or big, dangerous or gentle—we are called to treat them with kindness, respect, and compassion. The Bible teaches us that we must never mistreat them, recognizing their value as part of God’s divine plan. By caring for animals, we honor the Creator and reflect His love in the world.

1. Animals in Heaven and Earth:

1. Isaiah 11:6-9

“The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them.”

• This passage paints a picture of harmony among all creatures in God’s kingdom, suggesting that animals are part of His eternal plan.

2. Revelation 5:13

“Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, saying: ‘To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, forever and ever!’”

• This verse illustrates that all creatures, including animals, give glory to God, both in heaven and on earth.

3. Psalm 36:6

“Your righteousness is like the highest mountains, your justice like the great deep. You, Lord, preserve both people and animals.”

• This verse shows God’s care for all His creation, humans and animals alike.

2. Animals as Miracles of Creation:

4. Genesis 1:24-25

“And God said, ‘Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: the livestock, the creatures that move along the ground, and the wild animals, each according to its kind.’ And it was so.”

• Animals are part of God’s intentional creation, reflecting His creativity and power.

5. Job 12:7-10

“But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this?”

• Animals are presented as witnesses to God’s greatness and as teachers of divine wisdom.

6. Psalm 104:24-25

“How many are your works, Lord! In wisdom you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. There is the sea, vast and spacious, teeming with creatures beyond number—living things both large and small.”

• This passage celebrates the diversity and wonder of animal life as part of God’s creation.

3. How We Are Supposed to Treat Animals:

7. Proverbs 12:10

“The righteous care for the needs of their animals, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel.”

• This verse encourages kindness and responsibility toward animals.

8. Deuteronomy 22:6-7

“If you come across a bird’s nest beside the road, either in a tree or on the ground, and the mother is sitting on the young or on the eggs, do not take the mother with the young. You may take the young, but be sure to let the mother go, so that it may go well with you and you may have a long life.”

• A command to show compassion and preserve life, even for birds.

9. Exodus 23:12

“Six days do your work, but on the seventh day do not work, so that your ox and your donkey may rest, and so that the slave born in your household and the foreigner living among you may be refreshed.”

• Animals, like humans, are given the blessing of rest, showing their value in God’s eyes.

10. Psalm 145:9

“The Lord is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made.”

• God’s compassion extends to every creature, reminding us to follow His example.

11. Matthew 10:29

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.”

• Even the smallest and seemingly insignificant animals are under God’s watchful care.

Let us remember that every animal, no matter its size or nature, deserves our care and reverence, for they are part of God’s miraculous creation. When you hurt animals or ignore their suffering, you are disregarding the love and care God has commanded us to show towards all of His creations. The Bible teaches us that cruelty to animals is not only a failure of compassion but also a violation of the divine stewardship entrusted to us. Each time we mistreat an animal, we fail to honor the Creator who placed them in our world. Our actions, whether out of neglect or cruelty, diminish the beauty and purpose of God’s creation, and we lose the opportunity to reflect His love and kindness. It is through our care for animals that we live out the true nature of God’s love—one that extends to all living beings, great and small.

[blindedowl]

Genesis

tw: nsfw themes, fem reader, dom reader, stalking, yandere

Sunday, August 4, 2024

You’ve been quite stressed lately. What that promotion of yours offered in profit has been quickly chipping away at your sanity, and that new apartment, while spacious, still leaves much to be desired in location. However, tonight was different. These lonely, late-night commutes have brought you a unique sense of comfort. And though your phone’s light still accompanied you through the night, you were glowing even brighter yourself. 

Monday, August 5, 2024

This night was no different. You carried that air from before, or rather, it carried you as you glided across the sidewalk. Your feet, as feathers upon clouds, skipped and danced as if you were performing for an audience. Your stress evaporated, and your load lightened.

Tuesday, August 6, 2024

Tonight, you marched with confidence. The trees to your sides guarded you like cherubim to the throne; The rustling of their leaves as your drumline. Truly, nothing had changed. Your job the same and your apartment still littered with empty boxes, but perhaps the night, had finally come to respect you. 

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

What a sight to be seen. You had came down from your high, and yet you seemed to merge with the heavens. Nay, you had found your way back into them. The moon and stars now shining brightly as celebration at their creator’s return.

Thursday, August 8, 2024

Tonight, you brought a man an ANIMAL into your home. With a sultry look on your face no less. Your apartment now reeked of rotten fish. Spattered with dirt and crumbs. TAINTED with the presence of a COMMON HOUSE SPARROW. Why? My beautiful dove, why would you let this filth befoul you this way? And he left so soon. Is this what had made you so happy? So at peace? I watched over you throughout the night. Your soft skin glistening in the moonlight. I would never let you be alone; This would not happen again. 

Friday, August 9, 2024

Today, I followed you oh so closely. Closer than ever before. Your scent cleansed my nose of the trash the night before; Your voice a harmonious choir upon my ears. Through none other than a miracle, I had been able to breathe the same air as you. And so, I continued to follow you, delighted in your presence, all the way back to your nightly walk home. Where suddenly, you stopped and turned to look directly at me, a cruel smile adorning your face. 

“You’re so much cuter when you’re jealous.”

I fell to my knees as you walked up to me. Frozen you placed a hand gently on my chin, tilting my head up to meet my eyes; Yours blending in with the stars in the night sky. You let out a sigh as your smile quickly melted into a disappointed frown. Then, you promptly removed your hand and gave me a firm slap.

“You’ve been getting lazy recently. Don’t disappoint me again. My seraph.”

I remained there far longer after you left. My hand resting on my reddened cheek. I had been born anew. My Goddess having given me a second chance.

Saturday, August 10, 2024

And on the seventh day, you rested.

thank you for reading til the end, big experiment here, feedback appreciated <3

[amethystreaperwrites]

Fandoms I write for:

Mortal Kombat 11/12: | Ermac | Kung Lao | Liu Kang | Kenshi | Mavado | Mileena | Noob Saibot | Quan Chi | Raiden | Syzoth | Scorpion (Hanzo/Kuai) | Smoke | Shang Tsung | Sub-Zero (Bi-Han/Kuai) | Spawn | Takeda |

Star Wars: | Asajj Ventress | Alexsandr Kallus | Clones (request)| Cassian Andor | Captain Phasma | Cad Bane | Cal Kestis | Crosshair | Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) | Darth Maul | Ezra Bridger | Fifth Brother | The Grand Inquisitor | Hondo Ohnaka | K-2SO | Kylo Ren | Lando Calrissian (Young) | Nightsister Merrin | Omega | Obi-Wan Kenobi | Poe Dameron | Qi'ra | Savage Opress | Seventh Sister | Sabine Wren | Tech |

Marvel (MCU/TV shows): | Bucky Barnes | Captain America (Steve Rogers) | Deadpool | Dr. Strange | Daredevil | Gambit | Ghost Rider | Hawkeye (Clint Barton) | Iron Man | Jubilee | Moon Knight | Peggy Carter | Spider-Punk | Spider-Man Noir | Ultron | Venom (Symbiote) | Yelena Belova |

DCU (Movies/TV shows): | Batman | Batman Who Laughs (comics) | Deadshot | Harley Quinn | Joker (2019/Birds Of Prey/Multiversus) | Raven (Teen Titans) | Robin |

Transformers Prime: | Bumblebee | Knockout | Megatron | Optimus Prime | Ratchet | Starscream | Soundwave | Transformers One: | Orion Pax | Sentinel Prime | B-127 | Starscream |

Horror Icons: | Chucky | Ghostface (androgynous) | Michael Myers | Predator (Yautja) | Pinhead ('87) |

Naruto (I'm only on S5 so no spoilers please!): | Deidara | Garra | Itachi Uchiha | Kankuro | Kakashi Hatake | Kotetsu Hagane | Orochimaru | Shikamaru | Tobirama (Second Hokage) |

Apex Legends: | Alter | Bloodhound | Ballistic | Crypto | Catalyst | Fuse | Loba | Mirage | Octane | Pathfinder | Revenant | Sparrow |

Overwatch 2: | Cole Cassidy | Genji Shimada | Hanzo Shimada | Lúcio | Mercy | Reaper | Ramattra | Sombra |

Rainbow Six Siege: | Ace | Bandit | Doc | Deimos | Fenrir | Glaz | Jäger | Lion | Kapkan | Tachanka |

Call of Duty: | Captain Price | Horangi | John 'Soap' McTavish | König | Simon 'Ghost' Riley |

Misc: | Resident Evil: | Ada Wong | Albert Wesker | Leon S. Kennedy | The Servant of the Flame (Sea of Thieves) | Stranger Things: | Eddie Munson | Jonathan Byers | Steve Harrington | Tron Legacy: | C.L.U | Quorra | Rinzler | John Wick (John Wick) | ROTTMNT: | Donnie | Leo | Alucard (Hellsing (anime)) | Daft Punk (band) | Pirates of the Caribbean: | Captain Jack Sparrow | Will Turner | Elizabeth Swann | Davy Jones | Love & Deepspace: | Sylus | Zayne | Predator (Movie Franchise): | Scar | Yautja(s) | Alien (Movie Franchise) (Fluff only): | Xenomorph(s)| Ghostbusters: | Egon Spengler | Stargate: | Anubis | The Terminator (Movie Franchise): | T-1000 | T-800/Pops | Detroit:Become Human:| Connor |

Jujutsu Kaisen: | Satoru Gojo | Suguru Geto | Sukuna Ryomen | Choso Kamo |

——————————————————————————————————

Requests are currently open!

Link to what I write/not write:

https://www.tumblr.com/amethystreaperwrites/752611993988579328

[skarkkk]

First;

I think it's cool that the triangle is over, and that Tristan is with Vivian and Max and Avery are together, but it also doesn't seem right. I don't see much chemistry in Max and Avery together, you know? Just the two of them, even though I like them just as I like Tristan and Vivian.Something is missing, and we know what it is.

Second;

I loved that a bunch of cool costumes appeared in the Halloween episode (Wolverine, Addams, Jack fucking Sparrow, Velma, etc.) and I loved Tristan being a fan of Halloween.

Third;

I liked that there was a bad experience there just with Tristan getting high, but he barely had it this episode so I don't know what to say, besides that I was really expecting something more serious precisely because of him bumping into Gomes.

Fourth;

Tristan extended his hand to Avery, then extended the other to Max, and the look that Max and Avery exchanged and then looked at Tristan, damn, there's no way this won't end in a threesome, right? Does everyone agree? I want a slowburn, an attraction and denial of feelings between the boys and I want Vivian to be happy, but maybe don't with Tristan because he already has a man and a woman for him.

Fifth;

yes fuck, long live lesbians, I was happy she didn't die and didn't lose her arm (even though I think she was pretty stupid for going into that cave, but what can you do, brave people) and it ended well for them.

Sixth;

I need the Captain to have daddy issues, please, because then I can use "A middle-aged man who is healing boy's daddy issues while also healing his own." for his relationship with Tristan because I found it so meaningful and cute that he let Tristan wear his uniform (even though he said it was because of the near-death experience, I know your type, sir he's not my son-he's my son) and I really hope she's right, because it would be awesome to see Tristan's Mommy Issues put aside while he creates a father-son relationship, you know? Because now I'm also curious about his father, who I don't remember if they mentioned it until now, but anyway, yeah, I need to know.

Seventh;

can we talk, as fans of Doctor Odyssey and 911, how easy is it for someone to do a crossover starting with the guy from the cruise who was also on Athena and Bobby's cruise? That blond guy who was in Flash too. Someone really needs to do this. Maybe an almost Eddie/Tristan that triggers Buddie and Avery/Max/Tristan... Just an idea (someone please do it)

Eighth;

I had said in the study of the other episode that I wanted to see Tristan in a near-death experience, coincidentally that happened, but I don't feel like it was enough. I need more trauma, more character development and more Max/Tristan because I love their interactions.

Ninth;

okay, like Jack Sparrow Max might have won, but Tristan got the better of Neptune there.

Tenth;

(oh my god, how did I almost forget this???) that scene with Tristan at the party, the first one where he sees Max with the same Neptune costume but also before that, when it showed his blurred vision and he almost bumped into people, you know? We all realized that the looks those men gave him were definitely Queer as hell, we also noticed his confused state, but still, it means something, right? What men on this cruise want him (totally understandable) and maybe he can want them back? Maybe a scene of some man hitting on him and Max kind of in that way that we readers like, Tristan realizing some things about himself, if he doesn't already know. Because, come on, mommy issues (seeking approval, probably a "what's wrong with me?" ) + running away to the sea (repressing himself, an escape) + medicine (self-demanding, pressure) + giving off that vibe? This boy may not end up with Max and Avery, but there's no way he's 100% straight, please.

Eleventh;

Still waiting for a mention of Brazil... Silva... please ABC?

[strangethings-everywhere]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @sassyandclassy94, thank you so much for tagging me in this kind of stuff!

How many works do you have on AO3? Five

What's your total AO3 word count? 135,767

What fandoms do you write for? Marvel (specifically Spider-Man), Lockwood and Co, and The Boys in the Boat. I do have a 1917 fic on there, but I'm not currently working on it

Top five fics by kudos?Proof That Harley Keener Has A Heart - 381 The Injury of Finally Knowing You - 234 Star-Crossed in the Worst Way - 135 All I've Ever Known - 78 When Our Fingers Touch, I Feel My Way Back Home - 4 (I weep)

Do you respond to comments? I want to and I'm trying to get better at responding! A lot of times, I just get distracted lol

What is the fic you wrote with the angriest ending? I've actually never finished a fic (yikes) but I predict it'll probably be my WWII coxstroke AU, just because of war and stuff. As much as I want the ending to be happy (and a lot of it will), I want to be realistic to a soldier's mindset at the end of a grisly war.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Again, never finished a fic, but I think it'll be my Locklyle fic. They need a happy ending and I'm also still mourning the cancellation of Lockwood and Co., so yeah. Probably them.

Do you get hate on fics? Strangely, I haven't. Maybe not enough people have read them, but I've never really gotten a mean comment. Shoutout to what haters I might have though, love you guys

Do you write smut? Maaaaaaaaaaaaybe. I've never really written any sexual content until recently. I'll probably write some sexual content but not like full on smut. I don't think I'd be good at it lol

Craziest crossover? I've never written one!

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge, thank goodness

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I'm absolutely open to it!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I think it'd be fun! Especially now that I'm mutuals with a lot of fic writers in the tbitb fandom

All time favorite ship Oooooooooooo, it's probably Harley Keener/Peter Parker. They've had a special place in my heart for a LONG time

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Probably something I haven't written yet. I'm trying my best to finish all the stories I have posted except my 1917 one, just because I'm no longer super involved in that fandom. I'd like to do a Joseph Liebgott story or maybe a Joshler/Twenty One Pilots fic, but I don't know if I will.

What are your writing strengths? Dialogue and a lot of angst. I gotta make my characters suffer lol

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? As long as y'all are good with it obviously coming from Google translate, then sure

First fandom you wrote in? It was Once Upon A Time when I was in like seventh grade. I had a OUAT Peter Pan fic on Wattpad that actually got pretty popular. I'm sad I never finished it (it is gone forever, sadly).

Favorite fic you've written? Definitely Proof That Harley Keener Has A Heart. That fic has been a labor of love for almost five years and I'm very excited to finally finish that slowburn

There's no 20th question apparently lol

Tags: @seasidesandstarscapes @sparrow-in-the-field @kcsplace @arokel @dogwooddiaries @crushribbons (love you guys <3) and anyone else who wants to play!

[queenburd]

In seventh grade the teacher took the whiteboard marker, and drew squares on the flat surface. In each square he put a name, and when he was had finished there were twenty-nine names in twenty-nine boxes—we were a class of thirty. Did I forget anyone? he said, putting the marker down. I raised my hand— — We had a weeklong field trip, and came back on a Saturday at 5:45 pm. The bus pulled into the parking lot of the school and parents waved to the child they hadn’t seen in five days. I scanned the cars and parents before we got off the bus. I waited by my bag when they pulled it out from underneath the seating area, watching the entrance of the parking lot. Cars pulled away; six PM came and waved at me as it left me in the parking lot. A chaperone sat with me on the wooden bench. At seven fifteen, my parents’ car pulled into the parking lot. “Sorry,” said dad, to the chaperone. “We forgot—” — Hey, tell me: am I real? Do I exist? I’ve spent so long touching the lines in my hands, telling myself I see them, so they’re real, but I don’t know if anyone else knows my name.

may sparrow — I can tell the same story in a hundred ways

[mylaureltree]

empty canvases.

stop waiting - cigarettes after sex

“you’re an absolute nuisance.”

“am i?”

“oh, don’t even start,” i seethe, giving it my all to not give in to the temptation of perhaps raising my voice even a bit more, maybe turn around so they can get a good look of what a patient individual i truly am, perhaps a small nudge with the file that is sitting quite unsteady in my now shaky hands.

just a nudge, really. an ‘accident’, if you will.

“oh, please start, i’ve been waiting so long, after all.” their voice carries a hint of that self-pleasure after they have finally managed to push all buttons that linger in me.

i doubt that there will be any left as long as the physical embodiment of my loathing keeps poking on all (yet) available nerves that they find.

honestly, they always find new ways to unwillingly grab my attention and squeeze it so tightly in their palm, it is infuriating.

and almost impressive.

“if you continue to touch any of my materials, i will personally shove them all down your throat. it would be my pleasure.”

laughter is not really what i want.

especially not if it is theirs.

but god, why do i jump everytime that melody rings so soothingly in my ears?

why is it all i want to hear?

that final bark of laughter sounding from them finally makes me face that elated expression with a contrasting one, furrowed brows and pursed mouth, only to quickly steal the small chisel from their hands.

“you have no respect for an artist’s utensils.”

“neither do i respect your work, what does that make me?”

tension grows inside of me, but i manage to breathe out as a way of calming myself, even through completely sealed lips.

“an inconsiderate, untalented fool,” i bite back.

and that gloriously smug grin only widens.

“well, as long as i am your fool, i dont see any issue.”

curse it all.

heart, body, feeling.

all of it.

drifting my head back to my desk, the almost dried-out clump of red clay (that doesn't seem to be taking on the shape i want it to be in) stares right back at me so unknowingly, only making my blood boil to its final peak.

they’re only here to mock me.

because they know that i have no inspiration.

that my mind is full of other thoughts.

tapping my nails on the scratched up wood, my eyes close instinctively to  try another attempt at organizing the mess that is continuing to brew inside my head.

it is only the seventh time today, so it has to work now.

it just has to.

or else i will find myself nearly pulling out my hair again.

and yet, my head just repeats it all.

a laughter resonating the same rhythm as that of a singing sparrow, 

dancing under the sun while fluttering its wings oh so gracefully,

above fields of camellias touched by the hues of rosy skies when the sun sets,

and God, you remind me of the sun.

that nurturing warmth that envelopes me fully and yet stings my skin at the same time.

do you even understand how i yearn for you to feel that same warmth?

for you to overthink every detail of my face like i do with you?

to savor those accidental touches we both share and feel your own fingertips grow numb the moment we do?

just what do you think about?

do you ever think about me?

“didn’t know that you do calligraphy.”

pulled out of my thoughts in mere seconds, i swerve my head back to them.

“... i’m surprised that you even know what it is,” i retort, eyeing their fingers intensely and how they spin the bamboo stick within them, small splats of dried ink decorating the light green stem.

“yeah, yeah, get off my back and show me.”

“show what?

“your amazing kitchen skills. you know what i mean!”

…

God.

i only stare at their anticipating face, hesitating at first.

then it all just melts to a blur, now idealizing a final strategy of trying to clear my mind.

rising from my chair after a few moments pass, the lingering touch of their hand grazing mine burns like fire before i swiftly take the bamboo pen with a light tremor.

dipping the pointed end in ink, my gaze never leaves theirs.

eyes crinkled. confusion? nervousness? protest?

even their smile has faded.

let this work, please.

and as if my hand were now working by its own, enchanted by a spell i seemingly casted myself, i paint their skin like my own personal canvas.

what i see is you.

all over my thoughts, i only see you.

spreading out my sanity with your words and calling it your own, 

words that hold so many meanings to me whilst they mean the simplest to you.

but when i paint on this empty canvas,

you may understand what they all mean to me.

what you mean to me.

[siobhanhazel]

Copper and Blond Catharsis

Copper and Blond Catharsis by SiobhanHazel [Explicit] 16,000 words

Draco/Ron

Key tags: Porn with Plot, Post-Canon, Mild Angst, Sharing Feelings, Getting Together, Voyeurism/Stalking, Pining, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Misuse of Potions, Alcohol, Accidental Drugging, Happily Drugged Sex, Draco Needs a Hug

I set out to write a dark/sweet/smutty fic, but really the darkest I could hit was 'drugs and such a deep crush that Ron starts stalking Draco'. If you want some guttural, lonely-flavoured angst, 20-something Dron getting together with ample sweetness and smut scenes scattered in, please consider checking it out 💛 Excerpt:

Ron only recalled dreams that jolted him awake, leaving him with a pounding heart and lurching stomach. Post-war, his dreams fell into two categories. The first consisted of hazy flashbacks of the tumultuous hours of the war—his seventh year spent in a tent, self-exiled from his best friends. Far less often, he dreamed the second sort of dream. This morning, he startled awake, his pulse racing, and his pyjama bottoms damp. Kicking off the duvet to avoid dabbing wetness on it, Ron sprawled his legs, allowing the patch to air out. Rubbing his palms over his face, he groaned, heat creeping down his neck and shoulders. It was silly to be embarrassed when Kasparov was the sole witness to his shame. The half-Kneazle lay curled on a pile of Ron’s dirty laundry in the corner, blissfully snoozing. He shouldn’t indulge in replaying the dream through his sleepy thoughts, but Ron’s mind clung to the fading remnants of it. His chest fluttered as he recalled disjointed images of his freckled hand against porcelain skin, and the memory of his fingers gently brushing through platinum hair, as tenderly as one might stroke the downy breast feathers of a sparrow. Birds chirped on the rooftops outside. As the last fleeting images of his dream dissipated, a new wave of shame washed over Ron. Grabbing his wand, he jerked out of bed and stripped off his sodden pyjamas. He shouldn’t be ruminating about Malfoy. Eight years had passed since the war and since he last caught sight or snatched up any rumours about the socially shunned heir of a disgraced family line. Since fourth year, Ron clamped down on the odd feelings he had for the Slytherin. For eighty percent of their time at Hogwarts, his gravitating to Malfoy roiled to the surface as irritation. After the war, the ‘Golden Trio’ returned to Hogwarts for an ‘eighth’ year. In those liminal ten months, Ron felt as though he were taking a leaf out of Harry’s notebook, except he secretly followed Malfoy around not out of suspicion but concern. Yet in the end, Ron’s keen interest amounted to nothing more than embarrassing nocturnal emissions. Now mid-twenties, Ron still semi-regularly awoke to soaked pyjamas and breath coming in shallow pants, haunted by the image of silver irises as sharp as a knife’s edge.

Continue reading on AO3

[kannedia]

Basics - Beatrix Lind

Character inspired by this post.

Basics

Name: Beatrix Lind. It's a combination of names she found in various literature.

Nickname(s): No. Do not call her Trix; you'd better have permission to call her Bea. No one has permission to call her Bea. And if someone calls her something related to Carrots, pumpkins, or oranges again...

Age: A lady doesn't tell. [For those concerned, she's 21]

Nameday: 31st Sun of the Sixth Astral Moon

Race: Veena Viera

Gender: Cis Female

Orientation: Homoromantic Asexual

Profession: Member of the Adventurers Guild. Member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Warrior of Light. Member of the Culinarian Guild among other things.

Physical Aspects

Hair: Coral colored and slightly wavy. It goes just past her shoulders. Looks bright orange in certain lighting.

Eyes: Agate grey.

Skin: Pale yet warm grey. She has a moderate amount of freckles across her cheeks.

Tattoos/Scars: Yes, though she's lost count of how many. The usual amount of scars one gets from an active and happy childhood. No tattoos though.

Family

Parents: Beatrix was and is very close with her mother. She wasn't exactly fond of the idea of her daughter leaving the village but relented when she was satisfied with Beatrix's training.

It was her idea to send her to Eorzea. Beatrix briefly wanted to join Lente's Tears. She hoped to meet General Fran.

As for her father, she probably ran into him at some point in her wanderings. He would probably be proud of her. Though also a little exasperated.

Sibling(s): None. She was one of the rare only children in her village. She had plenty of nonbiological siblings and cousins. She got along pretty well with her fellow kits.

Grandparents: Yes. Her grandmother was one of the people was one of the people who taught her to fight. Her mother saw no problem with this. Truly.

In-Laws/Others: Her mother's hunting partner, Nora. She was like a second mother to her.

Pet(s): A small sparrow that followed her to Eorzea. She calls her Berry.

Skills

Abilities: If one were to ask Beatrix would say she mainly excels in hitting things hard, fast, and until they stop working. Which is to say she's well-trained in fighting with both an axe and her fists. This is only partly true as she's decently good, though untrained, at Aether manipulation. She has the potential to become a conjurer [White Mage].

She is also able to read maps and use a compass. Knows both basic field medicine and wound treatment.

Hobbies: Light reading. As she struggles with focus when it comes to the written word, she sticks to short stories and reading in short bursts. Beatrix enjoys traveling and trying new foods as she does so. She's also a rather good cook.

Traits

Most Positive Trait: Determined and adaptable.

Most Negative Trait: Childish and insecure. She works hard to keep both in check.

Likes

Color(s): Coral, Sea blue and Crimson

Smell(s): Nutmeg, grapes, and ocean air.

Texture(s): The sand between her toes [and the wind in her hair].

Drink(s): Grape juice, Spiced cider, and Mulled tea.

Other Details

Smokes: No. She gets headaches.

Drinks: Doesn't like the taste.

Drugs: Never been interested.

Mount Insurance: Yes and a sweet chocobo named Juniper.

Been Arrested: No, but she's been in trouble with the Wood Warders. She wandered a lot as a kit. It's only by luck that she still has her head.

[thegirlwiththedream]

Pirates of the Caribbean AU Harry Potter

- Jack sparrow is Half-blood , His father is Muggle mum is Pureblood

- Fitzwilliam P dalton III is Pureblood

- They don’t like each other

- Arabella Tumen Jean and Constance be friends with Jack , Jame Elizabeth and Tim be friends with Fitz ( also Fitz close to Draco Malfoy )

- Norrington and Dalton family are Death Eater ( Except Jame and Fitz’s father/sister )

–Jack and Fitzy start dating in fifth-year ( and broke up soon after)

- Seventh-year , Jack have to leave Hogwarts , he temporarily fleeing to live with Tia Dalma and Davy Jones ( Because Teague can’t protect him from Death Eater and his mum only had her head left )

[haveyoureadthispoem-poll]

"But don’t laugh / when these walls collapse / & only sparks / not sparrows / fly out. / When they come / to sift through these cinders—& pluck my tongue, / this fisted rose, / charcoaled & choked / from your gone // mouth. / Each black petal / blasted / with what’s left / of our laughter."

Read it here | Reblog for a larger sample size!

[sparrowandbee]

The Sparrow: Chapter 1 Haymitch Abernathy x Marian Cartwright

Synopsis: Marian Cartwright has survived six reapings, but her luck runs out on the 68th year of the Capitol's Hunger Games. Out of hope or ambition, Marian shares an odd interaction with the mentor, Haymitch Abernathy. She wonders why this stranger cares so much and just how far she will go to entertain his hope.

2763 words

Masterlist

-

I must begin this account at the point where my second life began. The event that changed me from a nameless, faceless girl into a new woman. I couldn’t have even begin to imagine on that July day what would have become of me.

The sun was beating down on my face as we stood shoulder to shoulder, the smell of coal perpetually lingering on my loose curly hair and ever-blackened hands. Despite the few clouds obstructing the clear blue sky, even the sunshine couldn’t change the dirty grey landscape of District 12. The inescapable soot made everything dimmer… even the sunshine, somehow.

It was my seventh reaping and the lingering dread no longer shocked me as it did in the years before.  My name was written in 21 times, not enough to be a real threat- the slips of paper mingled with each other in the glass orb just a few feet from me- but I’d been around long enough to know that it didn’t really matter how many names anyone had in there; the Capitol’s cruelty knew no fairness. I had seen kids as young as 12 and as old as 17 be chosen and met with the same fate. Whether they stepped up in tears or in confidence, they all ended up in the same place: a nationally televised corpse.

I looked around at the girls standing with me and recognized a few of them from other reapings. There were two who wore a new dress every year, their black hair always in pretty updos. They would giggle and whisper to each other and I’d always caught different boy’s names being tossed around.

To my left were a few girls I’d seen around the mines before, dropping food off for their fathers and brothers, probably. They had always been a quiet trio but held on to each other for the entirety of the event, their knuckles getting bone-white as they squeezed their thin, pale hands. 

Each of us inhabited a different world within the same small district, but we were united by each July 4th, seeing each other’s faces grow longer and more adult, beating the odds by returning every year, despite the Capitol’s desire to exterminate us. Our own tiny resistance. I didn’t know their names or families but I did know that we somehow always came back, every year, and we grew despite the hunger and strife.

The reaping was so quiet when we were 12.

I remember no one dared even whisper. But at 18, everyone acted as though this was just another bureaucratic inconvenience. As a lot of us had started to face real struggles in the latter years of our childhood, the Games just got more distant… more arbitrary. We had real things to worry about now.

I scanned my surroundings out of both habit and boredom. Frankly, most girls looked the same- mousy hair and sunken faces. From the far end of the field I spotted the braided blonde hair of Evaline Wergeld, daughter of a butcher I’d been avoiding since he caught me stealing. My head snapped back to avoid making eye contact, just as my stomach let out a loud rumble.

No one turned around, of course.

Hunger was as much part of District 12’s soundscape as the song of the mockingjays overhead or the rustling of the trees against the breeze. It wasn’t anything to be noticed, particularly not from the scrawny orphan girl. 

I was too busy worrying about whether I’d be able to scrap enough coins to eat something at night rather than entertain the thought of being picked out of hundreds of girls- especially since it was my last year being eligible.

I had survived 18 years of struggle and self-sufficiency, needing nothing and being noticed by no one. This too would come and pass, like everything else before it, I thought as I stood in the barren yard amidst the other grim girls of District 12.

The mayor began the process with a tedious speech no one paid attention to. Instead I tried to get the coal dust out from under my short, bare fingernails.

“Welcome all and happy Hunger Games!,” the overexcited Capitol representative with voluptuous, undulating red hair exclaimed into the microphone, causing uncomfortable feedback. I don’t remember her name. We got a new presenter nearly every year- no one wanted to be stuck in 12.

I shifted in my newly stolen shoes, not quite broken in yet and uncomfortable. It was strange to be this close to the stage, just three rows away from the well-groomed people and the stately banners on the stage which always seemed so distant from the barren landscape. “And as always, may the odds be ever in your favour!” Her Capitol inflexion grated my ears as the wind caught one of the many ruffles on her flowy white dress.

As they did every year, a propaganda video was broadcast on the large screens on either side of the field.

As we did every year, everybody ignored it, preferring to fiddle with braids or straighten a washed-out floral dress.

I looked down and traced the outline of the delicate butterflies on my once-purple shift dress. It was the only dress I owned, and despite its tattered state, it was the most beautiful thing to me.

“What a wonderful message from our President Snow!” I looked up to see the announcer smiling widely, showing her blindingly white teeth through her orange lipstick.

“Now we will select one brave young man and woman who will have the honour of representing District 12 in the 68th Hunger Games!” She paused, clearly expecting applause. I sighed, not caring enough to roll my eyes. Rent was due in two days and I couldn’t be evicted again. I may be able to steal some food from the bakery so I can make it in time; everyone seemed to get distracted during the Games.

“Okay, ladies first!” Everything from her mouth was an abundant exclamation, and her words still echoed as her white heels ‘clicked’ and she reached her hand into the large glass bowl. The world went still; I’ve never experienced silence like the reaping, as if everybody’s heartbeats were suspended in unison.

Worry flickered through me then. As much as I tried to reassure myself, to convince myself of the contrary, the threat was so present, looming over the heads of every child on the field. It didn’t matter how much you joked beforehand or ignored the pomp and circumstance. As she dipped her gloved hand into the bowl, it consumed me all at once. My stomach hurt not out of hunger for once, but anxious nausea. No one was ever safe.

“And our lucky tribute is…” She stepped back in front of the polished silver microphone, her glittery red and orange eye makeup glistening against the artificial lights as she looked down to read the slip of paper, “Marian Cartwright!”

My name echoed through the yard. My heart dropped as my veins ran with ice, despite the sweat dripping on my brow. The girls standing next to me looked around, not recognizing the name of an invisible orphan.

Seven years and for the last time of course I was made to pay for my survival- a cruel karmic trick for the girl who has nothing to live for.

Fitting. Poetic, even.

The girls around me retreated, probably realizing that I was the only one none of them identified. Slowly, they all held onto each other and moved back, creating a bubble around me, as if they would catch my bad luck if they stood too close.

In my 10 years of solitude, I’ve never felt more isolated, more judged or pitied- or perceived.

I looked up to the screens and found my face already projected on the stage. The announcer never let her smile slip and I cautiously walked towards her, flanked by two peacekeepers. My blood rushed at an inhuman speed, fueled by my anxiety and fear, feeling like every step was taken against my will.

The stage lights were brighter up close than they looked from the floor. The announcer gestured her red gloved hand for me to step towards her. I couldn’t stop looking at the texture left by her thick, pale makeup. I could make out every wrinkle and crack on the surface which looked so flawless from the floor.

I looked down at the worn brown leather Mary Janes. I didn’t want to see anyone in the crowd, not because I particularly cared about them but because I couldn’t stand their pitiful looks.

Pity from people who never bothered to help.

“Alder Oakley!” I looked up to see the male tribute making his way to the stage, fear so clearly coloured his face. I tried to keep my gaze withdrawn until he stood next to me, to retain some dignity on his walk of shame.

He smelled fresh and clean when he stood next to me. He could probably afford those oils sold on the road near the butcher’s. His button-up shirt was off-white and neatly pressed, the seams were all intact, a tell of light wear.

So he had some money to spare, but really, he looked like every other District 12 boy. A bit of musculature from a childhood preparing to work in the mines and a clean-shaven face. There was a bit of dirt on his hair, he was probably cutting wood for the stove that morning.

He took my hand in his as the announcer exclaimed our names: “Marian Cartwright and Alder Oakley, your District 12 tributes!” but I kept my eyes down, with no intention of playing along.

With that, my fate was sealed with only the certainty of my imminent death.

-

My memory after the reaping is hazy. I was quickly ushered by a number of faceless peacekeepers into the inaptly named Hall of Justice, which housed a level of opulence unseen in the streets of the district.

I was numb. This was a scenario I couldn’t barter or run my way out of. It was simply the end of a difficult and mostly unremarkable life. 

I couldn’t even cry, there was nothing to cry over.

I sat alone in a small wood-panelled room where the peacekeeper had informed me that family and friends were supposed to say their goodbyes. I looked up at the crystal chandelier delicately cascading from the ceiling. The dainty beads mingled with the gloomy sunlight streaming in from the window behind me as I listened to the anguished cries of a woman in the room next door.

At least I wouldn’t cause anyone any pain when I was gone.

I flinched as the sobbing outside intensified. No one would mourn, no one would hurt.

The dark wooden door squeaked as it opened, but instead of another aleatory grey-donned peacekeeper, I was met by the icy grey eyes of Haymitch Abernathy. I recognized the frizzy blond hair of the former Victor, a bit overgrown as it dragged past his jaw.

He stumbled into the room, closing the door behind him.

He won the 50th Hunger Games and was the only surviving District victor, but I knew him mostly in passing as the perpetually drunk guy who would often sway into the Hobb for bottles of alchol.

He almost tripped making his way to the grey cushioned bench where I sat. Even when we win, we lose, I thought. This was our glorious victor- a dishevelled, bumbling drunk. He slumped next to me and leaned against the wall, pulling out a silver flask from the pocket of his black blazer.

I was unsure what to say as I studied his worn face. He took a deep swig from his flask, glugging down the foul-smelling liquid. I was pretty sure it wasn’t standard practice for a mentor to visit a tribute this early, but I wouldn’t deny myself some amusement now.

“Okay,” he slurred out, as if he were correcting my confused stare, “I don’t normally do this but I’ve seen you around the Hobb, and that Alder kid has more than enough support.”

He was so clearly drunk. I’d gotten good at recognizing liquor from so many roomshares and nights on the street in a District with an abundance of miserable men. It was the smell which tinted each memory of my mother, after all.

“My advice?” He asked rhetorically, “Start drinking now. You want some?” He held out the flask.

I took it hesitantly, feeling its cool, smooth surface as I ran my fingers across his most prized possession. I held the dainty nozzle against my nose and it stung my eyes. Without thinking too hard, I tipped my head back and swallowed. My brows instantly furrowed as the alcohol scorched all the way down. I coughed and handed the flask back to him, standing up to try to shake off the heat.

I heard Haymitch’s baritone chuckle from the bench. “What? You’ve never had liquor?”

I shook my head between coughs.

“Seriously? They told me you were eighteen. You’ve never drank?”

I shook my head again and swallowed some saliva to try to ease the sting. “No,” I replied as I composed myself, now a bit embarrassed at the whole scene. “It’s always been either money for food or liquor,” I explained, facing him now, “And I’d much rather be caught for stealing food.”

He hummed in agreement and fished into his blazer pocket again, this time pulling out some sort of flaky pastry wrapped in thin paper and held it out to me.

For the first time in my life, I refused food. My stomach was in knots and I feared I would just throw up anything that dared enter it.

“No, thank you,” I replied, unable to even look at the greasy paper, “I can’t even fathom eating right now.”

“My real advice?” He replied, putting away the pastry, “Eat. You’ll need as much fuel as you can get to keep you going in the Games.”

I actually laughed at that sentence.

A pause.

He was serious.

“You think I’m gonna win?” I sat next to him and outlined it for him as though he was a child, “The poor girl from District 12 with no prospects or motivation winning the Hunger Games? No," I sighed, “besides, I have no real skills,” I outlined it for him.

“Can you hold a knife? Can you point it at someone? You have skills. I’m sure you have skills” He slurred out, still looking down and swinging the liquid in his flask carelessly.

I rolled my eyes. We were both adults. We both knew that the odds were definitely not in my favor. The odds were never in our favor. Some kids trained their whole lives to kill kids like me.

It was a spectacle, but I was not a performer. Nor did I want to be.

“You and I both know it’s more than that. It’s about survival and sponsors and combat. It’s about being able to take someone else’s life.”

“Don’t assume what I know,” he growled back and looked at me, holding my gaze in his eyes, “I went to the games. I know what it’s like. You don’t.”

“No, not yet. But they can’t force me to either. I don’t have to know,” I perked up, thinking I had a moment of enlightenment, “There are bombs in the arena, right? Under those start platforms? I mean, that’s got to be better than being hacked apart by a career.”

Haymitch shook his head and took another sip. “You jump off and you give them what they want: submission. You're gonna fight. Fight to survive despite what they expect.”

I sighed and looked away, unable to face the dim glimmer of hope behind his eyes. There was a dangerous genuineness in his words, one which I couldn’t confront then.

“Why do you even care? Why are you even here? I mean, you haven’t exactly been the mentor of the year, have you? Every single kid in my shoes has died- 2 every year for 17 years. Why are you going out of your way for me? Why convince me to try? Me, who has nothing and no one to live for?”

Haymitch opened and closed his mouth, opting against a rebuttal. Instead, he stood up and sighed, taking one last swig of the flask before walking towards the door.

“See you on the train,” were his last words to me as the heavy door slammed behind him.

-

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