finerthanapaintedrose

[finerthanapaintedrose]

ive done a lot of translating to high valyrian in my day and id like to think im pretty good at it sometimes (the way ive spent literal hours researching how just one piece of grammar works to change a noun to an adverb or something is maybe insane)

anyway all that to say i usually know what to look for and how to apply it, but i am struggling with this new bit im trying to translate. “i disdain all glittering gold.”

ive replaced disdain with hate cause there doesnt seem to be a word for disdain in valyrian and hate is the closest approximation. same with glittering — replaced that with shine, and had to manually transform that to an adjective (jehikagon -> jehikere? dunno if its right)

so what i have now is “nyke buqan unir jehikere aeksion”

(im not as concerned with getting the word order right as i am with the rest of the grammar)

ive learned from a previous answer “nyke” is potentially (probably) unnecessary here, so that leaves it as “buqan unir jehikere aeksion,” but the unir there in the middle kinda makes it feel off and im not sure if maybe that also needs to be part of a compound word like valar or how to make it one if so because idk what part of valar is all and what part is men and how to fit aeksion into that equation.

i lost track of what my question was originally meant to be but i guess im wondering if im on the right track and if theres some guidance you may have to get me all the way there.

thank you for your time 🙏

Uhhhhhh... Not to be that dude, but...maybe be more concerned with that...?

I'm not sure if you know about this site, but my wiki is exhaustively updated with respect to High Valyrian, specifically. There's a team of people that work on High Valyrian and it's massive. For example, you could go to the entry for jehikagon and see that jehikere is wrong: it should be jehikare. And, of course, it has to agree with āeksion (note the long ā), so it should be jehikarior. To get the sense of repetitiveness (with "glittering"), you might add ā- to the front, so ājehikarior.

Now for "all", why not use the collective? This is how you get "All men must die", so it should work for "I distain all glittering gold". That would be āeksior. Of course, it would need to be in the accusative, so altogether it would be ājehikarior āeksȳndi. By adding the repetitive you kind of get the aliteration, too, since they both begin with ā.

Finally you have "disdain", for which buqagon serves. Aside from sound a little more posh, the difference between "disdain" and "hate" in English seems to be one of duration. The words "disdain" and "loathe" seem to emphasize that this is a character trait rather than a reaction. If you disdain something, you've given it some thought, have experience with it, and may use this as a way of describing or characterizing yourself. You can do this with "hate" as well, but it's a much more common word, and so can be used in other more basic ways, whereas "disdain" and "loathe" tend to only have specalized uses. To try to approximate this, you could use the frequentative with buqagon to imply a lengthy duration. That would give you jobuqan "I disdain". In fact, you could even use the aorist if you really wanted to imply that it was a description of yourself, i.e. jobuqin.

Now that you have the pieces, though, I really hate to say it, but the words must be in the right order. I mean, you can change the order of the noun and adjective, if you'd like, but you simply cannot put the verb first and think you've created a Valyrian sentence. It's not just "kind of" wrong: it's completely wrong. It'd be like suggesting "I him saw" is close enough in English because the forms are correct. It's not. It's wrong. This is not a minor part of the grammar you can ignore. High Valyrian is aggressively verb-final. The verb must be at the end.

All in all, that gives you:

Ājehikarior āeksȳndi jobuqin.

Hope that helps!

[finerthanapaintedrose]

[finerthanapaintedrose]

[finerthanapaintedrose]

[finerthanapaintedrose]

[finerthanapaintedrose]

[finerthanapaintedrose]

i can’t find words for my anger right now so here’s a collection of thoughts that share the sentiment

[finerthanapaintedrose]

76 years since my grandparents have been forcibly expelled from Jerusalem.

7 months since l've been forcibly expelled from my home in Gaza City.

[finerthanapaintedrose]

When I say “free water, free food, free shelter, free healthcare, free education for everyone” in that “everyone” I even include the people I hate. Too many people get surprised at the idea that I do wish for the people I hate to have better lives.

[finerthanapaintedrose]

You know the Grimm version of Snow White makes more sense than most versions if only because in that version Snow White was like 7 years old.

[finerthanapaintedrose]

look. i don’t think my stretch marks are beautiful. i don’t think they’re tiger stripes or natural tattooos. i don’t think my acne is beautiful. i don’t think the bags under my eyes are beautiful. i just think they’re human. and i don’t think i have to be beautiful all of the time in order to be accepted and loved and sucessful. i don’t think every small detail of my outer appearence needs to be translated into prettiness.

[finerthanapaintedrose]

oh my god it’s laika day everyone drop what you’re doing… we honour a little dog who was sent up into space 65 years ago today. she was found as a three year old stray mongrel wandering the streets of moscow. her ability to endure hardy conditions got her chosen as the candidate for a journey she was never meant to survive. she passed away seven hours after liftoff. I hope she died dreaming of chasing rabbits up in the stars I love u laika forever and ever

[finerthanapaintedrose]

https://twitter.com/jijijibli/status/1391829463630024704?s=19

[finerthanapaintedrose]

All amazing points and so important to take in. I think I have done a couple of these, but not habitually or intensely. But it's good awareness for me.

[finerthanapaintedrose]

Almost Too Far Gone (Tenth Doctor)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: It's when the Doctor starts messing with things he shouldn't that you realise that you're growing afraid of him. Is it time to slip away unnoticed?

CW: anxiety, crying, fear, Time Lord Victorious!Doctor, hurt- minimal comfort (but still some comfort), angst

Doctor Who tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Is there anything you can't do?

“Not anymore.” 

Those two words. Two innocuous, innocent words. As soon as they left the Doctor’s mouth, pure, cold dread washed over you. You felt fear unlike that which you’d ever felt before coursing through your system. You’d felt fear before, yes. You’d been taken hostage by aliens. Almost tortured by Daleks. Almost lost the Doctor and the Doctor had almost lost you, too. 

But this? Fear brought on by someone you trust- breaking that trust? Someone as powerful as the Doctor? No. You wanted to go home. Now. Quietly, as the Doctor was watching Captain Adelaide Brooke walk up the street and towards her house, you crept backwards back through the TARDIS doors. You’d set it for home and set the TARDIS to go back and find him after you’d left the doors and left him. 

God, leaving the Doctor. It was a thought you’d never entertained before the last few months. Since Donna, since Rose. He’d changed. He was becoming something new, something he shouldn’t be. If the Doctor from even one year ago could see himself now… he’d be horrified. 

Rushing towards the console, you swiped at your cheeks, pulling your hands back to see tears collected on your skin. You hadn’t even realised you were crying. You steeled yourself and hurriedly wiped the rest of the tears away before looking towards the console. 

“I- I don’t know if you can hear me, or… if you’re going to help me, but- but please- I need to go home.” 

The TARDIS was silent for a moment as if in contemplation. You’d spoken to her before when you were in the console room by yourself, but you’d never asked her for anything before. You were terrified she wouldn’t listen. You wanted to just slip away and leave the Doctor to do whatever he felt he needed to do. No goodbyes. You weren’t sure you could handle them. 

The TARDIS booted up, starting the process of taking off. You let out a sob. It’s a sob of relief and of terrible sadness. God, how are you supposed to do this? You can picture the Doctor outside, those sad eyes betraying his heartbreak as someone else leaves him too. 

“Home?” 

You shout, not having realised the Doctor was standing in the doorway. You didn’t turn to look at him. Your arms shook with the effort of not breaking down. You’d told him that he and the TARDIS were your home before all this. It was still true to this day. 

“I thought… I thought we were your home. You and me- travelling the stars.” You can hear the set of his jaw from where you stand. You slowly start to turn, tears streaming freely down your cheeks. “That not true anymore, eh?”��

“Of course it’s true,” you shout, pain ripping through your vocal cords. “I fucking love you, Doctor!” 

The Doctor narrows his eyes, shielding himself from the possibility of letting someone back in. Of letting you in. 

“Then why are you leaving?” 

You scoff angrily, wiping at the tears hard enough to leave marks. You chew on your lip for a moment, trying to bring yourself to say the words. 

“I’m scared of you.” 

There, you’d said them. You’d given life to those four words that had been haunting you the last few months. At first, you’d just thought your anxiety was on a higher alert than usual. It was not necessarily unusual to have flare-ups like this, but then it persisted, and it never seemed to go away. And one day the Doctor gave you this look- this charged, dangerous look and you knew with absolute clarity that that was what it was. You were afraid of what he could do. What he could let himself do. 

“You- what?” He looks almost angry for a second before it melts to confusion.

You cross your arms, wishing you had a bubble that you could hide in. 

“I’m scared of you. You’re changing. You’re changing timelines and saving people you shouldn’t. You’re changing things and you’re- you’re becoming a threat.” You sucked in a shaky breath, tears falling faster over your cheeks. “I want to be with you, but- this is not okay. I don’t know how to- to- to help you. You don’t want to be helped.” 

The Doctor was very quiet for a solid few moments, taking in the words you’d let forth like a slew of vomit. He nodded, stepping forward, looking at anything but you. 

“I see,” is all he replied with at first. “Well, if you want to go back then I won’t stop you.” 

Your lip quivers. 

“Is that all you have to say?” 

“What do you want me to say? We’re supposed to be friends- partners. And I come back inside to find you-” he breaks off, gesturing wildly with his hands as he looks for the words. “Sneaking off without so much as a goodbye, I mean- and you’re afraid of me? Afraid?!” 

You flinched as he came closer. He was so upset, and it only served to make you feel that much worse. 

“I saved you! I- I had- I have the power to save you!” The Doctor carded fingers through his hair erratically. You let out a quiet sob, shakes wracking your form. 

“I- oh fuck.” It’s the first time you think you’ve ever heard him swear. “Oh, what am I doing? What’s- what’s happened to me?” 

You’re quiet as he has this epiphany. You’re too worried to be hopeful that he might be seeing the light. Seeing how far gone he’s gotten. It takes him a moment, but then he’s looking up at you in horror. Not horror with you, but horror at himself. He knows. He’s finally realised the gravity of it all. 

“Oh, my- Darling, please- forgive me?” 

You bite on your lip, looking away. You know if he looks at you like that you’ll give him whatever he wants. 

“I have so much making up to do, please- let me- let me start with you. I understand, I promise. You were scared. You are scared. I’m going to be better. If you want to go, I’ll- I’ll take you home,” he steps forward, reaching for you. “But if you want to stay. I promise you, I will be better.” 

You force yourself to look at him. He looks desperate, reaching for you like if only he could just… touch you- everything would be okay. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “I want to, but-” 

“Say yes,” he replied softly. “If you want to, then say yes. Please.” 

You contemplate this before deciding that the sincerity in his eyes is enough to believe him. You nod, and he’s on you in seconds, wrapping you up in his arms and visibly melting with relief. You wrap your arms around his back, rubbing comforting circles onto the back of his coat as he begins to cry. 

“I’ll be better, I promise,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck. “I promise.”

[finerthanapaintedrose]

Snack Foods (Good Omens)

Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: You're originally from the US and are feeling homesick. Your partners somehow just always know what to do to make you feel better.

Good Omens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Moving to the UK had not been something you’d seen in your future when you were young. It was one of those things that just sort of happened. One week you were working minimum wage and working towards a degree, and the next week you were studying abroad. A month after that you were securing a job in your chosen field and you just… never looked back, really. 

Your family was sad but supportive, thankfully. They understood how much your career meant to you and what these opportunities meant for you. They rang as often as they could and visited once or twice a year, which was great, but you still missed them, of course. 

Your main source of solace when you really missed home was the Bookshop. You’d found it by accident one day after going to the coffee shop across the road. You’d met some friends there who had recommended the place. It was indeed now your favourite joint for a pick-me-up latte. There was nothing quite like a hazelnut coffee frappe, was there? 

But you digress. You’d gone to the coffee place to meet your friends and spied the vintage-looking bookstore while you’d been there. After you’d finished with your friends you’d popped over to see what they had to offer. 

Being so far from home had been particular torture that day and you’d been hoping to pick something up to distract you from your misery and transport you elsewhere. At least for a little while. Browsing rows of books, parchments, scrolls and everything else under the sun was where you’d first met Aziraphale. 

A stout, comforting man (or you’d thought he was a man, anyway- at first) who had seemed to be trying to herd you out of the store before you bought something, which you had thought very odd for someone paying rent in the middle of London for a multiple storied building. But that was neither here nor there.

It had been an accident, really. You hadn’t meant to, but as soon as Mr. Fell had mentioned your accent and asked where you were from in an effort to divert your attention to his precious books, you had burst into tears. The poor man had looked so startled as you chastised yourself internally and wiped away the tears refusing to stop leaking from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, absolutely horrified. 

“Oh, dear,” was his response. “It’s quite alright- though, I must ask- why are you crying?” 

And so your friendship had begun. With a dash of tears and a sprinkle of awkwardness. After that, you’d popped in to the Bookshop whenever you were lonely or missing home to catch up with Mr. Fell. He’d set you up with a recommendation, a comfy chair and a cup of hot chocolate and leave you for hours to engross yourself in other universes. 

You’d met Crowley shortly after you started going to the store regularly. It didn’t take very long for the two of you to become thick as thieves. You had a similar sense of humour and both of you found more joy than you should have in the misfortune of others. Not anything serious, of course but neither of you were able to not giggle when you saw the ass end of someone’s shopping bag just fall right out. 

Anyway, all this was to say was that the two of them had fast become your best friends, confidants and then, one day after that, your partners. And as partners, they were very finely attuned to when you were not having a great day. Today was one of those days. 

Crowley had ducked out for a bit before you’d gotten to the shop, and Aziraphale was pulling out all the stops to help you feel better. A new book, hot chocolate, a funny dance, even. Nothing was working. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. The dance and the following cuddles helped, but not by a whole lot. 

Your Angel was doing his absolute best for you, and you were currently curled up in his lap with his hand stroking through your hair. You were sniffling sadly. You couldn’t even call back home with the time zone differences. 

“Don’t look at those, my dear. You know they will only suffice to sadden you further.” 

You were flicking through old photos, and as soon as the words left his mouth you turned the phone off with one more longing look. He was right, as usual. 

“There, see? Better already. Crowley will be back soon, I’m sure. Perhaps you and he can play that game that you both enjoy so much?” 

“Maybe,” you replied noncommittally. 

The game in question involved doing your best to come up with more and more ridiculous ways to spend eternity. It was quite an amusing game. Particularly when drunk. 

As if summoned by his name, Crowley wandered his way into the shop. He was toting a plastic bag which- judging by the bright colours within- meant it contained some sort of food. The Demon picked your legs up and sat down on the arm of the recliner, re-placing your legs back on his thighs when he was settled. He gave them a soft, comforting pat. 

“Right. Can’t have you being sad, can we, Pet?” He supplied as a greeting. You blinked at him, nuzzling your head further into Aziraphale’s hand in your hair. 

“S’pose not,” you replied suspiciously. 

“It’s, erm, not much,” Crowley said, peeking into the bag before handing it over to you, averting eye contact awkwardly. “Might help, though.” 

Your brows drew down in confusion and you moved the handle out of the way to view what was inside. 

“Oh.” 

Crowley repeated the statement, deflating somewhat. 

“I- this is- Crowley.” 

Aziraphale was beaming at you, scratching at your scalp. The motion gave you the shivers which in turn made Aziraphale chuckle. 

“This is so nice? I can’t- oh my God- Cheetos!” 

“Let’s not bring her into it, shall we? I don’t believe she had anything to do with it, eh?” 

You shot the Demon an apologetic look and started ripping items out of the bag. Mike n Ikes, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, Reese's cups, and- was that a root beer? A real, precious root beer? Was this Heaven? 

This was possibly one of the kindest things someone had done for you since moving. ‘Demon,’ your ass.

“This is perfect, thank you so much,” you say tearfully while ripping open the bag of Cheetos and shoving one in your mouth. “Where did you get these from?” 

Crowley squeezed your foot comfortingly. You wiggled your socked toes in his hand.

“Nipped over to the store in Edinborough. Our Angel here heard they had specialty foods.” 

You pecked Aziraphale on the cheek, giving him an absolutely beaming smile which he reciprocated happily.

“Oh, it’s no problem, really. I’m happy to do anything for either of you. More than happy.” 

You picked up a Cheeto, offering it to the Angel who looked at its colour sceptically. You can tell he’s about to respectfully pass on the snack before he sees the expression on your face and he gives in, opening his mouth for you to feed it to him. He looks horrified as the taste sits on his tongue. 

“Oh,” he says, chewing faster to get it out of his mouth. “That’s just… that's lovely, dearest. Thank you.” You offer him another. “No thank you, one was quite enough. More for you, after all.” 

Crowley snickers and rejects the snack you offer him. He wasn’t big on food in general, but it would be rude not to at least offer. Crowley was more of a drinks man, anyway. 

Once you’d had your fill you gave each of them a big kiss on the forehead, thanking them profusely for the effort. It really was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for you.

And as it turned out- it actually worked. It didn’t ease the ache of missing your family, but it did alleviate a little of that homesickness. You made Crowley promise to take you to the store sometime (and regularly after that) and while you certainly didn’t see your family often enough, you realised that you’d created a new family here instead- in addition to the one back home, that was. 

As thanks, you promised to never make Aziraphale chow down on American snack food ever again. He was very much grateful. To thank Crowley, you washed the Bentley for him in skimpy clothes. It was safe to say he was a fan. 

You may miss your birth home, but you had a lot going on for you here too, and wasn’t that just as important in the end? You thought so.