#oops i lengthened this

[moved-please-leave-me-alone]

The pain of writing a character with a certain speech pattern is that After a while you end up accidentally adopting said speech pattern

[rpvlix]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. ( REPOST DO NOT REBLOG ! )

NAME: Iyan (pronounced like Ian) or Dune

PRONOUNS: thit/thir

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: On tumblr, I prefer DMs. But I am also fine with post replies. I don't really like communicating OOC through asks. Off tumblr, discord is pretty handy (anyone is free to ask for my handle).

NAME OF MUSE(S): Ekentros, Kymatix, Fouskotos, Astathis, Braso, Solinas, Andras. There is a joke (vaguely hidden) in there but no one has ever figured it out, and now that they are VERY far removed from their origins, I fear no one ever will.

EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): Roughly 10-12 years? On and off, I haven't rped consistently throughout that time, but it has always been on the mind. This is my first major foray into a more serious writing style, until now I've really only done script style *where actions are written like this*

PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: flipnote hatena, and tumblr. that is it. (excluding private chats)

BEST EXPERIENCE: A three+ year long plot between one of my (at the time) favorite OCs and a few of another person's. It was a mutually self-indulgent slice of life :) Also, the Brandom (the origin of my current muses)

RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS: People that take things toooo seriously. I like to have fun and joke around with my characters AND with their plotlines and backstories. I built a joke INTO their names, they began as a joke, I like to have fun :) Also not a fan of super intense text formatting, or really tiny blog themes, or real life faceclaims. (Ironically, I started out on tumblr about a decade ago with real life people face claims, but my opinions have since changed)

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT:  The best character dynamics are a blend of all three. It's about the balance. I do have a love of petty IC drama though (hence Astathis' whole existence, really)

PLOTS OR MEMES: Either! I find I like the symbol memes more than sentence memes/starters but I think as long as there's an idea, fun can be had. Doesn't matter to me where that idea comes from

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: Length should NOT be regulated. The flow of the narrative will tell you how much or little one needs to write. Some situations call for a lot, some for very little. This one could absolutely go into the pet peeves as well. I don't like filling space to meet a word count.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: When I feel like it :)

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): YES. Each one of them is like a section of me that got distilled and concentrated. I think everyone's characters are like them though, really. You are the one writing them, there will be a piece of you in that. Whether or not that's the goal is irrelevant.

tagged by: @/the27percent (technically)

tagging: Anyone! :)

[sleepingdeath-light]

TOH WITH A IMMORTAL READER!

Okay so this wasn’t a specific request or anything so I’m just going to answer here with how I think each character would cope with having an immortal significant other. This got very long as I included basically everyone that’s on my masterlist… oops!

Also, to reiterate, these are just my thoughts so they’re very biased towards how I interpret the characters — and your relationship with the characters can be romantic or queer-platonic or similar depending on your preference!

Thoughts below the cut!

Adrian Graye-Vernworth

doesn’t even remotely believe you at first and will probably assume you’re joking. but once he does recognise your honesty then he’ll probably have something of a breakdown for a while and step back from your relationship — equal parts jealous of the life you’ve lived and horrified at the idea of just being a blip on the radar of your infinite life. it’s 50/50 whether this is a dealbreaker for him and he’ll either slowly inch back into your relationship or just break up with you because of the stress.

Alador Blight

alador is mostly neutral to your immortality when it comes to your relationship. like he’ll call on you for a second opinion when he’s working on something and will draw on your experience to further help his fellow witches — but he doesn’t really think about it any beyond that. though he does sometimes worry about you and how you’ll cope when he’s gone (because he knows that losing you would break him).

Amity Blight

when you tell her it’s quite the shock to the system and she doesn’t really know what to say or how to react. she’ll freeze up and you can see her thinking as she considers her response before she finally squeezes your hands and thanks you for telling her. she’d want to stay with you and wouldn’t want to break up, but she’d definitely have a few crises over the fact that you’ve lived so long before her and you will live so long after — but she also finds a small bit of comfort in the idea that she’ll never have to live without you.

Belos / Philip Wittebane

he’s been alive for far longer than he ever should have been because of his mission, so the idea of immortal entities isn’t difficult for him to believe. so upon finding out about your condition, he’s amazed but not necessarily startled by it — asking you about your origins and if there are more beings like you out there. if he truly cares about you, he’ll stick by you for as long as he’s able to keep his form stable — but if he doesn’t then he’ll just use you to find a way to complete his goal and lengthen his life further.

Boscha

boscha is someone else who wouldn’t believe you when you told her — going from genuine disbelief to shaky doubt to outright terrified denial and then through the stages of grief as she comes to terms with your condition. as sad as it sounds, this would probably end up being a deal breaker and would end your relationship as she would struggle too much with your past and future to be with you beyond that.

Camila Noceda

she doesn’t believe you at first, thinking that you’re just older than her as she’s seen some strange things but immortality is just so far beyond that. it takes her some time to come to terms with this but you do end up bonding over the losses you’ve experienced throughout your lives — you, your various lovers and friends, and her, luz’s father. she insists on learning your native language and teaching you hers so that you have an experience to remember her by.

Collector

having an immortal significant other would be the best case scenario for collector given his own life span. they wouldn’t have to worry about losing you prematurely and you’d be able to understand the issues he’s faced throughout their long life — whilst also having all the time in the world to grow with him and together as a couple. so they would be hopeful to have a spouse with this trait.

Darius Deamonne

this wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for darius but he would have a serious, long conversation about where you both stand and how your experiences would impact your relationship. he wouldn’t necessarily ask about your past relationships but he would be curious about older ages of magic on the isles and how other realms function — and especially how that can help the rebellion against belos.

Eberwolf

they’re pretty chill about the whole thing, honestly — like it rarely ever comes up in conversation so there’s no real impact on your relationship. you two just continue vibing together and spending the time you have wisely (by having fun) without the stresses such a realisation often bring. really they’re the best person you could have told — they only bring it up once or maybe twice and it’s only to make fun of you (lovingly, of course).

Eda Clawthorne

your immortality means that you have more knowledge of the world before belos and, thus, wild magic and magic as a whole. this means that eda will be looking to you to learn more about the owl beast, the history of those like her and if you ever came to know others with similar curses. she’d also insist on you teaching her about the people you loved and she’ll happily talk about raine (she’s far from the jealous type, but she is something of a gossip). she doesn’t care about making scrapbooks or taking pictures and prefers living in the moment with you and your family — living in the ‘doing’ world rather than focusing on capturing every little thing. you’ll look back on this with king and fleetingly wish you had more pictures, but the memory of her laugh and smile is tangible enough that neither of you feel like you’re missing out on too much.

Edric Blight

he will probably have something of an existential crisis about his own mortality when you tell him and would insist on finding a way to make himself live as long as you do. he starts comparing himself to the people you loved and lost and you’ll end up having to talk him into getting some help for it. your relationship will be permanently changed by this, but you will grow and heal with time — it’s just such a shock for him that he takes a bit of a mental health wobble whilst he comes to terms with it.

Emira Blight

em tends to bottle up her feelings a lot and will initially come off as very accepting and calm about the whole thing — but make no mistake this poor woman is one mislabelled jar of seasoning away from a breakdown. she’s now very aware of her own mortality and that she’s one of the probably dozens you’ve loved and lost and she’s absolutely terrified of being forgotten and lost to the sands of time. she’ll insist on keeping thorough, reliable records of your time together and by the time she’s old and you’re young you’ll be spending your last days together looking over them and laughing and crying and holding each other — finally ready to say goodbye.

Gus Porter

he will bombard you with questions about your life nonstop. did you ever live in the human realm? how has it changed? how has the boiling isles changed? there’s so much he wants to know and he has all the time in the world to listen to you talk — and he will note down everything you say and look at you with complete interest. so yeah he’ll still love you just as much as before, he’s just very nosy and eager to learn.

Hunter Wittebane

hunter is someone that would likely have a few hang-ups regarding true- and pseudo- immortality given his status as a clone/grimwalker. he’d have to do a lot of thinking regarding your relationship once he found out and a lot of serious conversations would be had about his natural lifespan compared to yours. in the end you would stay together and he’d be with you for a significant period of it (a few hundred years given him being similar to palismen) with him insisting that you don’t bring him back once he’s gone.

Lilith Clawthorne

she’d be absolutely entranced by your condition and would start fangirling over everything you must have experienced. you’ll end up getting interviewed and documented in every way possible as she asks about your history in and beyond the isles. though she might spend a bit more time on the deadwardian period than anything else (she’s biased, okay!).

Luz Noceda

luz would be amazed with you and would be eager to learn your story — as well as just about everything about you. she wants to learn your native language and hear about the cultures and people you knew throughout the years, especially if it involves some form of magic. she does, however, insist on making lots of memories with you and recording them so you never forget her.

Mattholomule

another one that doesn’t believe you but in mattholomule’s case he never ends up believing you. in his mind you’re just making a weird joke and there comes a point where you just stop trying to correct him and just live your life out with him — watching him grow old and grey whilst you remain the same. it’s on his death bed when he finally realises, but the life you shared was full of laughter and love so neither of you find it in yourselves to complain.

Odalia Blight

she is the type to use your status to her advantage which means that your relationship dynamic would inevitably shift. like she’d still care about you and be as affectionate as before, but she insists on showing you off and presenting herself as the wife of an immortal being in order to put herself above her fellow witches. you can tell her to knock it off. it will not work.

Raine Whispers

raine is heartbroken for you when they realise just how much you’ve lost throughout your life and they insist on memorialising your lost loved ones however they can. they help you write ballads for deceased lovers and learn to play songs from your home (even if their pronunciation is very shaky) because they care so deeply about you. they don’t talk about their concerns often, but they do ask that you remember them — and they leave you plenty of songs behind to do so.

Steve

as he’s quite possibly the most chilled out person in the boiling isles, steve doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re immortal. like when you tell him he’ll ask you a few questions about yourself and your past, but otherwise your relationship will stay the same and he’ll keep on keeping on. might expect the occasional cool story from your past, though, when you’ve both been drinking some apple blood.

Terra Snapdragon

she will most likely treat this as an opportunity to gain more power through your relationship. like she does care for you as you are her spouse at the end of the day, but she’s also incredibly power-hungry and having a partner who is immortal and has more experience than basically every other living entity is the ideal opportunity for her to get what she wants. so she definitely wouldn’t leave you, but the dynamic between the two of you would definitely change.

Viney

this wouldn’t be the end of your relationship but it would change a lot. viney insists on the two of you continuing to live in the moment together, focusing on making lasting memories doing things that you both love so that you never forget her. that means frequent fun dates, time spent teaching as a team, helping everyone you can and just spending time together doing what you love and having as much fun as you can whilst doing so.

Willow Park

willow is shocked by the revelation of your immortality but she doesn’t make too much of a big deal of it. like she will sit down with you and discuss anything you want to talk about, but generally your relationship remains unchanged. the only change is that she starts writing letters for you and hiding them — wanting to leave something behind for you once she’s gone.

[queen--kenobi]

So. The idea of Elayna having an Alicent moment decided to live rent free in my head to the point I had to bang this out.

Warnings: Aemond cheats so angst. Also Elayna letting her awful side win oops

An accident.

He didn't regret it. He got what he needed.

They would not have won without Alys. How could she not see?

Elayna stands. Her handmaidens look at her. She knows they're nervous, wary of what she might be planning. While none of them have uttered a word, she sees the fear in their eyes. Elayna wants to tell them they have nothing to fear. Her issue isn't not theirs; she has no quarrel with them.

Cerelle and Floris stand as well. Cerelle smiles softly and dips her head. Her gown is a beautiful red, golden lions embroided on it. She carries herself in the self-assured manner Elayna knows and respects.

Floris wears the same shade of red. Iron threads create the pattern of a windstorm. Yellow gold leaves cascade from the iron trees and float on the breeze. Her hands fidget. She tries to hide her nerves by tucking her hands behind the folds of her skirt.

Elayna steps towards Floris. Carefully, she reaches out and takes Floris’s hands in her own.

“Follow Cerelle's lead. She won’t lead you astray.”

Floris closes her eyes before nodding.

“I’ve... I've never done this before. This is more Maris or Cassandra's realm.” Floris murmurs. Cerelle reaches out and places a gentle hand on Floris’s shoulder.

“ ‘Tis to send a message. Surely your Lord father would agree with that.” Cerelle manages to make every word coming out of her mouth the sweetest of honey. Elayna appreciates it. She knows the sharp sting of the Lannister's tongue.

“Yours is the Fury.” Elayna reminds Floris. “Fury need not come from bloodshed. It can come from action alone.”

Floris nods. She takes a deep breath. Her spine lengthens and straightens. When she opens her eyes, determination gleams in them, determination and anger, a spite Elayna can taste.

“I have this.”

Elayna releases Floris’s arms. Cerelle drops her hand and offers Floris her arm.

“We must go. We can't be late.”

As the two take their leave, Elayna turns to her handmaids.

“I'm ready.”

As her handmaids dress her, Elayna lets Aemond's words sit on her tongue. She feeds off the pain. Aemond promised her to be faithful and true, told her he loved her and no one else, threatened to burn the world if it would make her happy. Elayna believed him. She promised the same to him in return.

He could not have meant it if all it took was a bastard Strong to make him, her husband, go back on his words.

Tears threatened to form. Elayna blinks and squashes them down. She cried the first night after learning about Alys. She gave herself one night to cry herself to sleep. In the morning, she vowed to the Gods she would never cry over that man again. He didn't deserve her tears or her sorrow. All he deserves is her calculated rage.

Her fury burns hotter than any dragon fire ever could, but it does not harm her. She isn't alight with it. Elayna made herself an ice block as frigid as the Wall. Well. Aemond did the moment he decided to sleep with Alys.

He has no one to blame but himself.

When Elayna finishes being dressed and looks in the mirror, her heart skips a beat. The woman staring back at her is different.

The woman staring back at her is both the woman she feared to become and the woman she was destined to be.

Her ruby red dress is beautiful. Massive silver lions, all in the shape and form of her family’s sigil, decorate the dress. The rubies in her silver hair piece compliment her garment perfectly. Silver dangles from her ears. A silver torque in the shape of a lion rests around her neck. The eyes were not the sapphires people had become accustomed to but rubies. Each lion holds a small ruby within its mouth. In the right light, the gems seem like blood.

Elayna gazes at her reflection. Were it not for her brown hair and eyes, she would think the woman in the mirror a Lannister. The steely and calculated look on her face is one she used to be repulsed by. Now, she finds an odd sense of comfort in it. She is impenetrable, as impenetrable as the Wall or Casterly Rock.

She keeps this image in her head as she leaves and heads to the feast. Aemond is no doubt already there. He never arrives late. She knows he'll be trapped there until she makes an appearance. After all, he must be seen with his wife to dispel the rumors and accusations flung his way.

As Elayna rounds one of the last corners towards the Great Hall, she stops.

Despite her resolution, she nearly cries.

Tyland stands at the end of the corridor, waiting for her. He looks up at her and smiles.

He's wearing red as well. His gold chain stayed, but he switched his green doublet for red. It's Lannister red with gold threading. Elayna doesn't care; the colors and look are plausible deniability for him. She knows what it means.

“Ser Tyland.”

“Lady Elayna.”

Elayna steps forward. Tyland moves away from the wall towards her. Elayna doesn't miss the brief flash of want and lust on his face before he catches himself. A slight blush colors his cheeks when his eyes meet hers.

“We seem to have had the same thought tonight.” Elayna murmurs. She steps closer to him. She feels drawn to him. He clearly feels the same, copying her movements.

“It appears so.”

She stops just in front of him. Tyland tries his best to not look at Elayna’s lips.

“Or are you matching Cerelle? Family is important.”

“No.” Tyland breathes. “I followed a whim is all.”

The unsaid “I know you. I knew what you'd do” lingers in the air. Elayna swallows. She gazes into Tyland’s eyes.

“What do you propose we do about this? I cannot change. I am late as is. Nor do I wish you to change.”

“I'll go first. A lady must have her own entrance.”

They breathe in sync. Elayna's tongue darts out to wet her suddenly dry lips.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness. You've always been considerate.”

“ ‘Tis the least I can do. We lions must stick together.” Tyland feels so close even though he hasn't moved. Elayna swears his heart matches the rhythm of hers.

“A pride is stronger together.”

Elayna fights to keep her face neutral. Her insinuation makes Tyland’s eyes go wide for a second. She tries not to smirk. Tyland clears his throat loudly.

“We are no doubt late.”

“Go. I need a moment.”

Tyland nods. He doesn't move just yet. Instead, he looks both ways. Upon seeing no one else, Tyland surprises Elayna. He takes hold of her hand. He keeps eye contact with her as he brings her hand to his lips and kisses the back of her hand. Elayna nearly chokes. Tyland let's his lips linger for a moment before stepping back and letting go of her hand.

“Lady Elayna.” He bows his head.

“Ser Tyland.”

Tyland disappears down the corridor. Elayna waits until he's gone before she leans against the wall. Her heart beats not just in her chest but throughout her entire abdomen. She takes several deep breathes to try and steady herself. Elayna closes her eyes. She hasn't felt such a tenderness or want in a long time. Certainly, she hasn't felt it in the last eight months. She cannot recall the last time Aemond touched her with such reverence. He could be gentle, yes, but he never...

Not like that. He never treated her like that.

Elayna gives herself a minute to collect herself. Once she steps away from the wall, she smooths out her dress and makes her way to the Hall. The guards part for her and open the heavy oak doors.

“Announcing Lady Elayna Targaryen.”

Elayna lifts her head and steps into the Hall.

The silence seems to stretch on for far too long. People slowly stand as she passes. Elayna pays them no mind; she keeps her eyes trained on her seat. She can look for clusters of red when she sits down.

Elayna finally looks at Aemond when she gets halfway down the aisle.

He looks angrier than she's ever seen him. His hands curl around his knife to the point his knuckles are clearly white, even from a distance. Elayna sees Aegon smirking out of the corner of her eye.

Aemond's lone eye meets hers. Despite the rage present, an obvious sadness lurks. It swims to the forefront when his gaze meets hers. Elayna responds by lifting her chin even higher.

He deserves this. Aemond did not act as a husband should. He cheated on her for a bastard of a sworn enemy.

He was no husband of hers. She would be no wife of his.

[worlddevoid]

World Devoid: Episode 1.3 - This Is (Not) Your Morning

(Word Count: 1.1k)

...

Cassie abruptly stops what they're doing and looks up at Baz, then down to the abomination slowly reforming itself on the pavement. Panic sets in and she immediately hightails it back to the RV without a second thought, no longer caring about the spider guts on her designer shoes.

Cassie rips open the passenger side door and clambers up into the seat, slamming it shut as soon as she is safely inside. With a few deep breaths, she regains some of her composure.

Having calmed down a bit, she promptly refocuses on cleaning her shoes.

Relieved that Cassie was able to get to safety, Baz relaxes ever so slightly-- but it's enough for the creature below him to absorb the last piece of its body back into place and turn towards him. ‘Remarkable movement for a creature that just reassembled itself’ Baz marvels to himself.

He raises his axe again, regretfully ready to kill it for the second time, but it launches towards him with shocking speed before he even has time to swing. He stands frozen--- axe poised high in the air, eight-legged undead creature staring directly at him with those unsettling eyes from the center of his chest.

None of the six eyes seem to fit its physique; each one a little different than the other and seemingly belonging to a different body entirely. All 6 eyes are fixated on Baz, but the 'spider' remains perfectly still.

He does the only thing he can think to do in the case of thing-on-chest-that-you-don't-want-on-chest. He rapidly swats at his sternum with his axe-less hand and sprints as fast as his body will let him to the RV. He barely registers that the creature is in hot pursuit as he makes a mad dash for the door handle.

"CASSIE OMIJEEZUSHCRIST OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE DOOOOR!!!"

In an attempt to quell the mounting dread, Cassie turns on the radio at the exact moment the sounds of Baz screaming reaches her ears. She whips her head up at the sound of his panicked voice, eyes widening at the sight of him sprinting towards her with the creature tailing closely behind. Even though the music is extremely loud, she doesn't have time to adjust it and immediately jerks into action. ‘My friend is in need!’

"Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit!" She yelps, opening the door as quickly as she can. Loud music floods through the speakers and pours out onto the streets as it swings open.

The fear crawling up the back of Baz's spine urges his strides to lengthen, watching in relief as Cassie leans across the middle console and opens his door. Before he even has time to savor the relief, he slams directly into the now open door- ricocheting off of it and onto the ground with a thud.

"Oops!" Cassie squeaks as the RV door hits Baz head on. He falls back onto the pavement harshly and she looks over in worry- ready to get out of the vehicle if need be. ‘I really don't want to, but I would do anything for Baz’ She thinks.

He scrambles around and pulls his body backwards, scrapping his ass and elbows in an attempt to put distance between himself and what he believes to be certain doom. He squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for his end, but the only thing that happens is the song on the radio continues to play at a blaring volume. While 'Sure Shot' by the Beastie Boys rings out across the pavement, he dares to open his eyes.

Cassie watches in horror from the safety of the RV, but lady luck seems to answer her silent pleas because the creature has stopped its advance on Baz- instead writhing helplessly on the ground as if in pain. A passing thought of 'well, that's strange' sprints across her mind.

In front of Baz, the eight-legged creature squirms and twitches, seemingly overcome by something. He doesn't waste any time and hurries to his feet and into the driver's seat, slamming the door with gusto.

He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, instead continuing to stare in awe at the writhing body in the road.

"What is it, Baz?" Cassie asks, leaning over to get a better look at their face. She can tell they've realized something but they're in too much shock to speak.

Baz hears their question, but it's drowned out by his racing thoughts. He's fascinated and horrified and absolutely enamored with the creature now thrashing on the ground in pain to an unknown source. He can't think straight with the music blaring and reaches over wordlessly to turn the radio down. The creature shakes like a dog shaking its coat free of water and resumes running towards them immediately-- spell seemingly broken. It lunges towards the windshield just as Baz cranks the volume up again-- full blast. The insect crumbles to the hood with a thump and spasms as something pulses painfully through its body.

"Incredible" is all Baz manages to say.

"Baz stop playing games and just DRIVE!" Cassie screams, shaking his arm in a panic as they watch the creature spasm on and off.

When Baz doesn't immediately respond, Cassie takes charge and throws the RV into reverse. She reaches her foot over to the gas pedal, backing them expertly away from the pile of cars in the road and getting a good distance away. Once she has a good angle, she puts the RV into drive and takes them up onto the grass, rocking the vehicle as they roll over the hump. She floors it as "Show Me Love" by Robin S blasts through the speakers.

Baz is snapped from his trance when Cassie's leg clashes into his as she swings it over and pushes her foot down on the pedal. He watches in admiration as she perfectly reverses and floors it into the grass. She continues to traverse through the uneven terrain easily, despite her awkward angle.

"Impressive." Baz smirks, finally relieving Cassie of her strange predicament and grabbing the steering wheel. He nudges her foot out of the way and takes over the pedal too. "Unfortunately, that was super cool of you... I may or may not have frozen up in a crucial moment.... I owe you one, Cassie. Seriously, impressive."

"You sure do! And I won't forget it either!" Cassie responds, leaning back in her seat and smiling at Baz nonchalantly. She doesn't actually ever feel that Baz owes her. They know he will always have their back no matter what. Baz smiles back and shares her internal sentiment. Cassie has always been a good friend to him through thick and thin, and he knows they will be for a long time.

After driving for a bit, the road begins to clear up a little, making it somewhat easier to get around, but there are still empty cars every few miles, scattered across the road. As the music continues to blare through the speakers, some of the anxiety begins to ease, but Cassie still fears what they will find when they get to their dorms.

...

[babblingbookends]

Reverse Robins, Damian and Tim bonding? 👀

So, this was for a prompt that was sent to me, and I sat down to write it, and I swear I meant to make it sweet and comforting. Uh, that didn't happen. Oops. So now it's just languishing until I decide what to do with it.

---

Tim spun around, scowling harder. His hair, usually gelled into spikes, was lying flat on his head, soaked in sweat.

“Again,” he hissed.

“No,” Damian said, and began walking off the mats.

“Damian!” Tim snapped. “You’re just going to walk away from me? You don’t think you can win again.”

The boy was taunting him. Damian turned around. “I said we’re done,” Damian said, in the tone of voice that made men far mightier than Timothy Drake tremble. But the boy just scowled at him.

Well. Maybe it was starting to get ridiculous, calling him “the boy”. Tim had recently had a growth spurt, and as a result he was now an inch taller and clumsy, hence all the losing he’d been doing. Not that he would have won against Damian even if he wasn’t clumsy in his newly lengthened body. There were only a handful of times so far that Tim had bested Damian on the mats, and each of them were deserved victories, hard fought and much celebrated with one of Alfred’s celebratory dinners.

If Tim wasn’t careful, he’d be spending dinner in the medbay, getting patched up from twisting or spraining something, instead of eating at the table with Damian and Bruce.

[ronearoundblindly]

Sneak Peek

Y'all this follow-up Jake Jensen thing is getting out of hand 😵‍💫

It's already over 2k and they've barely touched yet, oops.

You suggest he have the fish in his room for a while, like shared custody, but then he knows you would have access to listen to him via the livestream.

If he tells you you have to mute it every time, you'll know he might not have. If he refuses to keep the feed up or the camera functioning, you'll be suspicious of why. If he says fucking anything against your very thoughtful and adorable idea, it'll be a cold day in hell since he will endure all forms of torture just to see your elated smile as the tank is finally setup between his closet and his bed across the room from his desk.

The keystrokes from his work are too faint for the camera's microphone, and he proceeds to wear headphones for music, take calls outside, and never touch himself in his own room for weeks. Ok fine, two, he makes it two weeks.

Deprived of hearing you, which he grew rather dependent on, and needing to inconspicuously lengthen his showers, Jake is a mess.

Why didn't he record anything? Why would he??? He was supposed to get himself together like a man and either ask you out or get the fuck over it.

He even watches (but mostly listens to) porn through his headphones without touching himself in an attempt to fade the memory, but then you show up at his door, asking to visit with the 'kiddos' and checking with the Marauders if 'daddy' is treating them well.

He's not gonna make it, man.

You settle on his bed to read for a while because why the fuck would he say 'no' to you, and this is the part that does Jake in the most: his sheets smell like you after and turning in his desk chair to find you accidentally asleep in his bed just... He can't.

He's unwell thinking about how sweet you are, how fucking horrible he's being by fantasizing about you this way, how if he just had the balls to crawl over to kiss you, he'd--but he doesn't. He just gets worse...

A/N: In no way, shape, or form should I be enjoying this man's torture so much, but here we are and you bitches can suffer with me...

[princelylove]

Good morning, your highness! (Or good evening. Maybe I should just not include time involved hellos???) I’m so glad to hear you’re doing well post surgery. I mean what would we do without you? Probably better to not think about it

With Leone I think you’ve implied him kidnapping us. For whatever reason he thought yeah, fuck it, yoink and suddenly we’ve lost rights. What would drive him to do that and what would that entail?

Is that a threat, anon? Do you know something I don't? Should I lock my windows a bit tighter? When you sent this ask I was dead asleep, but I read it in the morning, so I'll count it as a "Good morning" still.

Panic is how humans survive. It doesn't seem that way- humans survive off of calculated decisions to lengthen their lifespan, such as eating and seeking shelter and whatnot, but when it comes down to it, it's all about that one moment. What do you do when someone bigger, someone stronger has you? Do you bend? Do you hit them? You're not thinking clearly, whatever you do is pure instinct- and entirely different depending on the individual.

You can try to guess what someone will do in certain situations based off of their personality, but you never really know someone until you see them in high stress. Friendly, easy-going types can snap and get violent. Serious types can break down sobbing. You just don't know, you can't know. How many cases have you seen of people snapping in their fifties and sixties and killing their partner after five or six decades of peace?

You especially don't know Leone, who takes you in a moment of pure opportunity. There's nothing you could've done to guess that the man pretending to hate you would seize the opportunity. Leone is a very impulsive man. Irrational, impulsive.... He makes big decisions, or rash decisions, when he feels even a twinge of anxiety. To get Leone to the point of no return, he needs to be:

1. manic.

2. previously stressed out about the state of your relationship.

3. presented with an opportunity where he can act on impulse and doesn't have room to think about it.

I classify Leone as a bit of a loser. He's secretive and perverted- but he's too ashamed to really touch you, so he gets off on the fake you.

And, well, there's no guarantee that he took the real you. He's delusional enough to believe that you're just not real, sometimes. It doesn't hit him that he took an entire person until it does. Randomly. On a Tuesday at 2pm kind of hit. He didn't really take you! It's just Moody Blues fucking with him again and replaying you in- in. Something! Maybe this is something from your past!

The delusion clears when you can touch him and respond. Ohh, God, he's done. He's so done. You'll never love a man like him.

The drop after a long phase of mania is tough. Especially after you've done something you just can't take back. Settling into your new home isn't easy, especially considering your captor is too depressed to really take care of you.

Leone probably takes you back to his apartment, foolishly. He locks you in his room for the first few days and sleeps on the couch, which isn't abnormal to Guido when Leone's been drinking a lot. But you need to come out eventually. He doesn't have the luxury of having a bathroom attached to his room, there's only one in the whole apartment, and it's in the hall next to Guido's room. You also need to eat, and any other needs that your body tells you to take care of.

You may think Guido would freak out, and Leone does too, but he flat out doesn't care about you. Ohh, oops. Anyway. He's still not doing dishes. Guido's what he'd like to say is "neutral." He won't stop you from trying to get out unless there's something in it for him, but he also won't stop you from hangin' around, either. He's ignoring you until you speak to him, and if you plead with him, you'll most likely get the same three sentences, revolving.

"Maaaan, that's crazy..." or "Damn." or "Dunno, ask Leone."

Leone's fairly grateful for it, and perks up eventually at the 'help.'

Once Leone's feeling better, he'll give you the pampering you deserve, if you say he can touch you.

Until the next depression hits, and so on, and so forth. Just get really comfortable with whatever Guido's got on the tv for tonight.

[edensliterarydiaries]

The Secret History by Donna Tartt. The dangerous pursuit of climbing the social ladder.

The Secret History (SH) is an account of a murder in Hampden College, New England, through the eyes of outsider Richard Papen. A academic life that is similar to Tartt’s own, this novel artistically blends the rational with romantic ideals. However, after reading this stunning narrative, I have to address the title, so many say, it ‘truly deserves’: A Modern Classic. SH can plausibly be classified as a psychological crime novel that is derivative of other writings before it. From Crime and Punishment to Sigmund Freud’s essays, Tartt transforms the ideals of college life and academic study into one of morose horror. The knowledge of characters is greatly outweighed by the clear obsession with academia. From a first person account, we never get to know Papen’s fellow classmates, or the teacher Julian Morrow, on any other level beyond physical appearance. Instead, we become familiar with their love of Greek stories and rituals (only to kill a local man in the process, oops 😬😯).

SH is ‘devoid of character but has plenty of personality… there is nothing good beneath the heavy surface of academia’. -J.Wary, Michigan Daily

The influences of psychology in SH are evident in the difficulty these characters face outside the walls of academia. Papen, seeing hope for a better life in attending Hampden, only comes to observe that his ‘existence was tainted’ in the process and after. Yes, the death of his friend Bunny may have been the catalyst for such a perspective to be drawn. But, can the fact that Morrow insisted that his students have him as their only teacher be the cause for such an outlook too? (You had it coming as soon as you switched your tutor to Morrow as well Papen, we all saw it coming!)

We can see that his ‘morbid longing for the picturesque’ (NY Times) is a parallel to how private colleges are perceived by the common folk. As a ‘idyllic’ as it was on the brochure As the outsider, Papen’s, opportunity to escape the dull reality of Californian life is only met by the Dickensian tradition of financial and societal desperation; a long way from the better life he once dreamed of when coming to Hampden.

The opportunity to entrench yourself in the worlds created by classic literature is something our original five Greek students do persistently. With lots of money behind them, it is easy to get captivated by the romantic fantasy without feeling the consequence. The richest of the five, Henry, states that ‘Death is the mother of beauty… and what is beauty (without) Terror?’. The ideas behind Henry’s speech links back to the passage read by Camilla in the first class together.

In a ‘harsh and low and lovely’ voice, she reads about the ‘dark red and violent-driven rain of bitter savoured blood (that makes the character) glad’.

The repetition of ‘and’ both lengthens the sentence and makes Camilla’s speech creepily seductive. Yet, finishing the passage with a character that is ‘glad’ could be Tartt alluding to the murder later on in the novel. In the mean time, the excitement and vigour stemming from both Henry and Camilla’s imagery is plausibly seen as escapism away from the ‘monkish bare’ windows and ‘whitewashed walls’ of Hampden.

As a former student of the said ‘elite’ school life, time between those tall walls can be reminiscent of prison. Pursuing the idea rehabilitation was in the form of etiquette (often indirectly) and hazing Saturday matches and army training. All of which spat you out into the world with your school plastered on your psyche.

To be a Modern Classic, SH had to focus individuals personal morals and ethical behaviours both in their daily lives and in unusual situations (such as a murder). As a first person account, Tartt avoids this. She only lets us know Papen’s opinion on their physical appearance and any actions they commit. This alone, speeds up the pace of the novel. As Tartt does not stop to give us any background information of these students, especially Henry and Bunny, whose interaction is quite intriguing to Papen.

In contrast to the world of Greek literature, Papen’s description of his fellow students is reminiscent of the contents of a photo album. We see the images of people and know about what they did in life. But, we don’t know them beyond their physical appearance, what they like and dislike for instance.

The replacement of character development with the obsession with Dionysian madness, distances Papen (us as readers), from the original five Greek students. Under the spell of Dionysus’ words, it is plausibly easy for the students to be captivated by the colourful imagery displayed in such books. Especially in the black and white surroundings of Hampden, the classical world created connotes a Baroque undertone that is both captivating and sinister; the latter is more prominent to us than the former.

Can we plausibly see that Tartt is suggesting that literature was a way to escape the daily grind of academic life?

In the end though, it is difficult to see how SH can be a Modern Classic. Yes, Greek literature and elite university settings are visuals that are associated with the adjective ‘classic’. But, the limited character development does make Papen’s account of the events ,leading up to the murder, dry; no conflicting emotions or true feelings about certain events (beyond Papen) revealed in any way. Furthermore, being publishing in the early 90s, SH was released into a world that was in love with murder mysteries and psychological thrillers both in the book and on screen.

It is a product of its time, not a Modern Classic. The latter is used on a piece of work that is going to last and resonate with everyone over centuries. To state it’s a modern Classic would be to compare it against the works of authors from the early to mid 20th century.

Lady Chatterley’s Lover (1928), for instance, uses letter writing and indirect and direct dialogues to convey Constance’s character development to us. Through letter writing and talking to specific ‘trusted friends’, we know how difficult her life was becoming with Clifford (the plausible predecessor of Richard Papen!). The main point to take away is that the character development aided the progression of the narrative. It did not lead the reader to express doubts or question anyone’s motives and inner beliefs and it certainly did not leave us to speculate what lead up to certain events.

Anyway, coming back to SH, I can say that it is a psychological crime novel. Tartt does suggest to us that there is more that meets the eye when it comes to elite colleges and the academic world. She also draws a dark shadow over feelings of temptation and ambition, especially in the case of outsiders like Papen.

I would definitely recommend this book for anyone seeking something to read under the bed covers this autumn. If you grow to love it and form opinions about it (like I have) and fancy something more- then watch some crime movies from the 90s! (A good place to start would be The Good Shepherd (2006) and The Skulls 3 (2004).

Hoped you enjoyed this post as much as I did writing it!

See you in the next one!

Yours sincerely,

Eden xxx

[moonlight-tmd]

Okay so while we all agree that bumblebee having claws is peak character design I would like to purpose an interesting variant: Bumblebee doesn’t ‘unlock’ his claws and reach true ferretablity till he gets to earth. My reasoning? I like to head canon that the Autobot frames had all their natural features (claws, fangs, any thing that could be related to deceptions/war frames etc.) edited out like the messed up breeds of pugs. Bumblebee’s minibot frameclass had naturally sharp digits for climbing and micro transformations could lengthen or shorter them. But Councils gotta Council so they are declawed right up until Bumblebees fingers get smashed in a door and Sari fixes him with her key and well wouldn’t you know it Bumblebee can climb up the side of Sumdac tower now.

(he was already and natural climber and always seeking natural high places, but now it’s just worse)

That is a cool idea! I mean, yeah, it is kinda messed up- i always thought of Decepticons having small upgrades along with the Decepticon alignment programming installed. Hence why Decepticons act more animalistic. (growls, screeches, playbites(?), etc.) Also the retractable claws, they are the back-up 'weapon' in case they got stripped of their own. Sharp dentae as well. (those are depending on what frame you have; for example Blitzwing has both sharp teeth and claws, but Lugnut has only sharp teeth cuz his servos are not compatible with the claws. Same with Shockwave but he's only got claws.)

I can imagine Bee being a good climber to reach stuff (excluding the ridiculous mountan goat crackcanon). He's been climbing up various stuff since he was a Sparkling.

Since i like giving him angst so to your idea- he did grow tiny claws that were later taken away in the bad Carequarters. That left tiny scars on his digits that only Ratchet really noticed. (medic brain go brrr)

Once they get to earth, Bee accidentally has his servo in some hot area and it melts a little. The key comes in action and oop- you are now a menace to society. You can climb basically anything you desice and scare the shit out of your friends.

I am updating my infodump post as i write all of these, It's just too good of a piece of lore to not squeeze into that list.

[kopimoss]

Hello! Do use a slider or preset to lengthen your sims' necks? I double checked your resources just in case 🥰 thank you in advance!

yup I do! my resource page is a little outdated n empty- I'll get round to that oops

I use these: one, two, three and these shoulder ones (one, two)

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Don’t Fall for the Death Eater

pairing: james potter x regulus black

summary: if there was one thing james potter was not supposed to do, it was fall for a death eater. especially when said aforementioned death eater was his best friend’s little brother. oh boy, was sirius going to murder him.

warnings: swearing, pining, james is an idiot in love, canon divergent, angst, fluff, mentions of abuse and family trauma, walburga is a shit mother, mentions of death, mentions of murder, strong feelings of guilt, mature, perspective changes (switches between james and reggie)

word count: 4.5k

chapters: 01, more coming soon

a/n: this got a lot darker than i was planning, oops. it also was supposed to be a oneshot but got looonng so here we are

read on ao3 here | masterlist

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

Sirius was going to kill him.

That was the only logical course of events James could see in front of him. He was going to die and at the hands of his best friend no less.

Well, maybe he was overreacting a little. Sirius would only kill him if he found out, after all. So, he’d just have to keep it a secret. That should be easy enough. Yeah, he’ll just not mention it to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Nope, not at all. He won’t even think about it.

Think about what? Nothing. Nothing suspicious going on here. He hadn’t done anything that could result in any unrelenting fury from anyone, especially not Sirius Black. No, not at all.

When he realised trying not to think about it only made him think about it more, he groaned and tugged on his dark curls as though it would pull the thoughts right out of his head. Then, he flopped backwards onto his bed, allowing his torso to hang down over the edge so that the tips of his hairs just about touched the floor.

Who am I kidding? Sirius is going to kill me.

He hadn’t actually done anything, exactly. Not yet, at least.

Regulus didn’t even like him. If anything, he despised him. James Potter, the scoundrel who had stolen his brother.

Merlin, it’s so stupid.

He wasn’t going to think about it. If he didn’t think about it then this weird new feeling in the centre of his chest would go away and things would go back to normal.

It was hard not to think about it, though.

Regulus had just looked so good in his new Quidditch uniform this year. His smaller frame had broadened just a little, filling the uniform out in a way it hadn’t the year before. His features, too, had grown sharper. The perfect visage of elegance. His hair had lengthened over the summer, although it was still not as long as his brother’s, and often found itself falling over his beautiful grey eyes.

James had been having these festering feelings since sometime in their fourth year. He didn’t know why at the time. He still wasn’t really sure now. All he did know was that for whatever ridiculous reason, he wanted Regulus Black. He wanted to be with the younger brother of his best friend, who was certainly going to kill him the very second he found out.

He was screwed. Positively and utterly screwed.

Not because Sirius cared much for the well-being of his brother, mind you. Well, at least he didn’t want people to think he cared much for him anymore. They were on opposing sides, after all.

Sirius hated his family. Almost the whole lot of them. Regulus was sort of stuck in this weird other plane within Sirius’ mind. On one hand, Sirius loved his little brother more than anything. On the other, he detested him as much as the rest of his nasty, conniving relatives.

Sirius would call James a fool if he knew. For falling for his brother. For falling for a Slytherin. For falling for a Death Eater. That’s what he was, after all. At least, Sirius was sure. By now Regulus would have cemented his place by the Dark Lord’s side, as were his parents’ expectations of him.

Nonetheless, thoughts of unspeakable things swam around in James’ head when it came to the boy.

How could he be a Death Eater? James may not have known him all that well but he knew Regulus wasn’t a bad person. Sure, he could be quite standoffish and had a tendency to look down on others thanks to his stupid ‘most ancient and noble house of Black brainwashing’, as Sirius had called it, but he wasn’t a murderer.

James groaned again then and sat back up, cursing himself for not being able to dispel the younger Black from his mind.

Then, he began to pace. Up and down, up and down, up and down. If he paced any more he’d leave a smoky trail behind on the carpet.

“Fuck.”

“What’s got your knickers in a twist? Is it Evans again? You know she isn’t interested, mate.”

James nearly jumped out of his skin the moment he heard the very voice he was trying to avoid. Thankfully, Sirius had only just entered the room and hadn’t been standing there for the entirety of his minor crisis. Although James wasn’t sure he’d have even noticed if he had been quiet enough but thankfully Sirius Black was anything but quiet.

“I know, I know. It’s nothing, really. Just stressed about the exams, that’s all.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. He really was stressed about their impending NEWTs.

Sirius raised a sceptical eyebrow as he looked at James. "Exams, huh? Prongs, I've seen you face a Hungarian Horntail with less anxiety than you've got right now.”

James released a half-hearted chuckle, unable to fully mask his unease. He always had been easy to read. Always wore his heart on his sleeve. Still, that didn’t mean he could tell Sirius what was really on his mind. "Alright, you caught me. It's not just the exams. It's... other stuff too."

“The war?”

Taking no time in latching onto the topic of war to mask his feelings and worries about Regulus, James hummed, “Yeah. It’s just… things are getting worse out there, you know?”

“Trust me, I know. They’re recruiting kids now. Kids. I mean, I know they’re Slytherin and their parents are Death Eaters and all but they’re still children. Kids younger than us are being conscripted into their ranks and made murderers. If I hadn’t run away when I did…”

And there it was. Sirius was worried about him too, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“But you did,” James moved to sit beside his friend and rubbed a reassuring hand across his back, “You got out while you still could. As for Regulus, well, we don’t know for sure that he’s joined them yet.”

Sirius only flopped down onto his back, his eyes fixing on the ceiling above him as though he could see the image of his brother consorting with the Dark Lord right then and there. “Of course he has. He was already sitting in on their secret meetings before I left. He’s the perfect son I would never be. He’ll be working for them before you know it. Murdering people too. Just like our parents.”

James didn’t know what to say to that. Nor did he know what to do with the pit it created in the depths of his stomach. Regulus Black. Death Eater. Murderer.

Regulus Black was a lot of things. He was arrogant, entitled, intelligent, loyal, stubborn, too proud for his own good, and quite possibly as tormented by his family situation as Sirius was. He was all those things and more. But he was not a murderer. James was certain of that.

"The thing is," James began, "although Regulus might be stuck in a difficult situation, we can't jump to conclusions about what decisions he will make."

Sirius sat back up to look at James with a mixture of frustration and sadness in his eyes. "You always try to find the good in people, even when it's not there."

“Maybe,” James replied with a half-smile, “but when it comes down to it, I’m sure he’ll make the right choice. You’ve had your ups and downs but he’s still your brother, Pads. You were close once and I’m sure he’s more like you than you’d think.”

Sirius sighed, his expression conflicted. "It's not that simple, Prongs."

"I know it's not," James conceded, "but do you really want to condemn him without giving him a chance? Surely you’ve seen the change in him recently? He’s been bumping heads with other Slytherins and I’ve caught him looking over at our table in the great hall more than once. What if he’s silently calling out for help? What if he’s drowning just like you were and is just waiting for someone to pull him back to the surface?"

“There you go with your fucking metaphors again. You know, they don’t make you look any less like an idiot, Prongs.” Sirius got up then and began to pace the room, his own thoughts running in circles.

He knew his brother. Or, he did once. And he wanted more than anything to think there was hope for him but he’d given up that hope the day he left home. The day his parents turned their wands on their own son and Regulus — good, little, perfect Regulus Black — stood there and did nothing about it.

Silence settled between them, heavy with the weight of the world. Eventually, Sirius stood still, his fingers threading through his hair. "You really think there's hope for him?"

"I think there's hope for everyone," James replied, his gaze steady on his friend. "Regulus might surprise us. And if he doesn't, well, at least we gave him that chance."

Sirius studied James for a moment, regarding him with a contemplative eye. "You're too damn noble for your own good, you know that?"

James grinned, a spark of his usual, easy-going self returning. "Comes with being a Gryffindor, I suppose."

Sirius snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and it comes with being you."

The tension between them began to ease but still, Sirius had more questions. “Why the sudden interest in Regulus now anyway?”

James felt his heart skip a beat as he realised he needed to devise a convincing excuse to hide the true reason behind his concern. To try and hide his fluster, he leaned back on his elbows to appear as casual as possible.

“Well, he’s your brother and you've always been stubborn as hell, but I've seen the way you talk about him, the way you've never fully cut him out. It's like you're protecting something, even if you won't admit it.”

A guarded look crossed Sirius' features as he retorted, "You're reading too much into it." But there was a hint of vulnerability beneath his words.

James shrugged. “Maybe I am but if anyone knows what he’s going through it’s you. You’ve been there, you’ve faced the same expectations from your parents. Maybe he’s just too afraid to take the same path you did. Maybe he thinks he can protect you by staying with them?”

Sirius' expression softened and he glanced away, lost in thought. After a moment, he sighed. “I still think you’re grasping at straws but I know what you’re doing so thanks… for trying to make me feel better about it. I just don’t have the same confidence in people as you do. I never have. I’ve been let down one too many times already.”

Little did James know, he had hit the nail pretty much right on its head. Sirius just didn’t want to admit the possibility because he was too afraid of being let down again.

Regulus still remembered the day Sirius left home. In fact, that night played over and over in his mind every second of every day.

It wasn’t the first time their mother had turned her wand on him but it was the first time she’d ever stooped so low as to use an unforgivable curse on her own blood.

“Get out, Regulus.” Is what his mother had said with her wand pressed firmly to her eldest son’s throat. She didn’t once cast a look his way as she was far too occupied with the beginning of the punishment she was preparing to inflict on Sirius for stepping out of line once again.

Sirius, however, had looked at him. His eyes were stern, as though he was trying to show no fear, but Regulus could see through it now. He wasn’t that little boy who needed protecting from his strong big brother. In fact, he knew the very fear Sirius was feeling. It was a part of him too.

“Don’t look at him,” Walburga tapped the side of her son’s face with her wand, directing his full attention back to her, “Look at me you pitiable excuse for a son. This is the last time you disgrace our family name. You're nothing but a stain on the Black family honour.”

He could still see the fear in Sirius’ eyes. He could hear the sharp hatred and contempt in his mother’s voice.

“Regulus. Get. Out.”

Although he felt frozen in place, his legs began to move on their own and soon he was on the other side of the door, leaning against it with a heavy heart the moment it clicked shut behind him. His entire body flinched when he heard his mother shrill, “Crucio!”

Once again he found he couldn’t move. If he did, that would have been to leave Sirius entirely and he couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t. So, he forced himself to stand there and listen to his brother’s screams.

Regulus' fists clenched at his sides, holding tightly onto his own wand as though he would ever dare to open that door and stop his mother. It was what he had wanted to do more than anything. Sirius had always tried his best to protect him from their parent’s wrath, even after they stopped talking to one another, so why couldn’t he work up the courage to do the same?

He was a coward. He knew that and he couldn't bear it. He wished he could turn back time, confront his mother, and shield his brother from her malevolent cruelty as he had done for him their entire lives. But he knew he was powerless against her, trapped in the thick web of expectations and deep-rooted fear.

Regulus would always remember that day. He would always remember the terrified look in Sirius' eyes and the disdain in his mother’s. Despite their differences, he and Sirius were two sides of the same coin. They both yearned to break free from the toxic grasp of their family's dark legacy.

Every second felt like an eternity as Regulus leaned against the icy cold door. The silence that followed was almost as chilling as the screams that had preceded it.

Sirius was gone that very night.

Regulus sent owls. A plethora of them, in fact. He never received a reply. That was how he knew Sirius blamed him in part for that night. Or, at the very least, resented him for not stepping in. Regulus couldn’t blame him.

Still, he was desperate to know that Sirius was okay. That he was safe. Well, as safe as he could be after refusing to join the Dark Lord, experiencing a punishment worse than any he had before, and running away from home to finally leave it all behind.

That was why he sent an owl to James. Where else would Sirius have gone, after all?

Unlike his best friend, James took only a day to respond to the younger Black brother. It was a short letter but still, it helped put Regulus somewhat at ease.

Dear Regulus,

He is safe. You needn’t worry, we will look after him here. He just needs some space, give him time.

Sincerely, James Potter

Hearing those words meant he could breathe again. Sirius was safe and he was being looked after by people who loved him, truly loved him, and that was all that mattered. He had made it out, he was free.

Of course, Dumbledore had come to the Nobel House of Black personally to ensure the youngest son was well. His parents were quick to brush off what had happened with Sirius as a fleeting tantrum and overreaction.

When the headmaster asked Regulus directly if he was okay, everything in him threatened to crumble. He could have said then and there that he wanted to leave too. That he didn’t feel safe in his own home. That he didn’t want to go through what Sirius had.

“I… I’m quite well, Professor. You know Sirius, he has always had a flare for dramatics. It was just an argument, that is all.”

He was a coward.

The headmaster hummed. “Is that so? Well, I am glad you seem to be well, Regulus. Just remember if there is ever anything you wish to tell me, you can do so without concern. I can protect you.”

The young boy only stood taller as he looked the headmaster in the eye. “I am quite safe here, with my family, Professor.”

Always the perfect son. Perfect little Regulus Black making his family proud.

Seeing Sirius at school after only made it hurt all the more and, as each day passed by, he pushed away everyone who had ever shown any sign that they cared for him. He couldn’t protect Sirius but, by keeping everyone else at arm’s length, maybe he could protect them.

Over a year had passed since then. Sirius was close to graduating and Regulus, well, he had in fact become the very thing he hated most. When the same question was asked of him, to swear loyalty to the Dark Lord, he wasn’t as brave as Sirius. He had taken the dark mark, much to his parent’s pleasure.

Of all his family, Narcissa was the only one who showed any sign of knowing what it was he was going through. While everyone else made toasts and celebrated the joining of the youngest Black into their ranks, his cousin came to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Only when they met eyes did he realise he wasn't the only one. She too had been longing for a different life but she had found a way to live with the hand she had been dealt and somehow he would have to too.

And then the day came when he was instructed to kill.

He looked down his wand at the young wizard who cowered at his feet. He was a student, he came to realise. A third year whom he himself had seen many times around the castle. Now the young boy wept on the ground at the bodies of his dead parents.

“Kill him, Regulus! Do it!” Bellatrix cackled as she skipped around the room, knocking over family portraits as she taunted the child.

In his hesitation, she grew impatient and sighed before crying out, “Avada Kedavra!”

That was the moment his façade began to crumble. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes before spilling out over his cheeks as his wand arm fell to his side.

The boy was barely younger than himself. A life snuffed out as though it had meant nothing.

His cousin wrapped an arm around him then, leaning lazily against him as she admired the destruction before her. “Oh come on, Reggie. They’re traitors. They’re nothing.”

Regulus felt a sickening churn in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the lifeless body before him. It was then that he realised he couldn’t blindly follow along any further. He wouldn’t kill for them. He couldn’t.

“Get off of me!”, he shoved Bellatrix away, breaking her grip on him, but this only seemed to fuel her twisted glee.

It sickened him. She sickened him.

It was finally time for him to follow in his brother’s footsteps. To get away from it all.

Without another thought, he disapparated and left behind the horror before him.

When he materialised, he was surprised to find himself standing outside the three broomsticks. He had taken himself as close to Hogwarts as he could manage, knowing it was the only place he would be safe from his family’s wrath.

He was almost frantic as he pushed the doors open and hurried inside out of the cold, leaving the winter snow behind him.

With his entry, the pub went almost silent. His wand was still firm in his hand, his face still soaked in tears. He shook where he stood, eyes wide as he looked around for a familiar face. For anyone.

Then came the sound of chair legs scraping across the floor and his heart raced as he locked eyes with James Potter, the last person he would have expected to encounter.

“Regulus?”

And then he began to walk over and the distant chatter grew loud once again as the rest of the pub’s customers went about their business once again.

James' voice held a concerned note that was foreign to Regulus. He had expected judgement, perhaps even disdain, from someone like James. After all, it was no secret that he supposedly shared the same purist beliefs as his family. But the look in James’ eyes held something else entirely. Genuine concern, a flicker of empathy that Regulus couldn't comprehend.

"Regulus?" he asked again as he approached, his voice grounding, "Are you alright?"

His defences were still up, his instincts telling him they would be coming for him soon. That the next wizard to fall at the hands of the Death Eaters would be one of their own. A true traitor.

His only chest tightened, and he struggled to find words.

"Why do you care?" Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and bitter. In his world, compassion was a scarce commodity, and genuine concern from anyone, especially someone like James, was a foreign concept.

James’ face softened further, if that were even possible, and although he wanted to wrap Regulus in his arms then and there, he forced himself to give him space. “Because something is clearly wrong. What happened? Was it your family? Did they hurt you?”

Under any normal circumstances, he would have grown angry hearing those words. He didn’t want or need James’ pity. But right now, his warm voice and gentle words were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground.

His grip on his wand slackened slightly, his fingers trembling. He couldn’t even look James in the eye as a lump continued to form at the back of his throat, emerging with the emotions welling up that he had suppressed for so long.

He really had given up on himself. No one else cared about him, after all. Not even his brother, who had left him all alone with the monsters they called parents at barely fifteen years old.

"I... I can't talk about it," Regulus admitted in a hushed tone, his voice betraying the storm within him. He knew if he told James what had happened the kindness he was showing him now would turn to hate. He would go to Azkaban for what he had done and a part of him knew that he deserved it.

"That's okay," James replied gently, stepping closer. "You don't have to. Come on, let's head back to the castle, yeah?"

Regulus' eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his guilt threatening to consume him. He looked down, unable to understand why his brother’s closest friend would care at all for him. His kindness was unexpected and confusing, yet strangely comforting.

As James reached out, placing a hand on Regulus' shoulder, the younger boy flinched away, and James couldn’t help but feel the strong ache in his heart. Sirius had been in much the same condition when he ran away, a frightened little thing seeming almost beyond repair.

Hours passed and still, they sat in silence. James had snuck Regulus into the Gryffindor common room and up to their room, although he knew his friends would not be so happy about that fact when they came back.

With the war getting worse and his parents having taken such a pivotal stance, he and Sirius had been instructed to remain at the castle this Christmas. Peter had gone home to his parents and was likely having a wonderful, snowy celebration with them as they took the opportunity to pretend just for a couple of weeks that the war was but a distant memory. Remus, however, had also been asked to remain at the castle. Not that he minded, he had always much preferred Christmas when he was with his friends.

James knew he was going to have to tell a professor about Regulus’ arrival. At the very least to give them some warning that his parents might come looking for him. It could wait for now, though. At least until Sirius and Remus returned and dragged Regulus to McGonagall kicking and screaming.

With a sigh, James cleared his throat, his brows furrowed in concern. "Regulus," he began, "I might not know what's wrong, and I know we're not exactly on good terms, but I'm here for you. You don't have to go through whatever this is alone."

His heart raced as he looked into Regulus' eyes, a secret longing hidden behind his words. The very eyes that looked back into his, however, were cold and icy. Deep down in the depths of their grey ocean, James could just about see the pain that resided underneath.

Without a word, Regulus stood up from where he had been sitting on Jame’s bed and began to head for the door.

“Where are you going?”

"Does it really matter?" Regulus replied, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to echo the turmoil within him, “You don’t really care anyway.” His words hung in the air, a bitter truth that he couldn't hold back any longer.

James wasn’t surprised when he felt his heart clenched at Regulus' words. The pain of their truth hit him like a punch to the chest. He had never given Regulus a reason to think he cared, not once, but he had cared all along.

“You're wrong. I might not have shown it before, but I do care. I care about what happens to you, about what's hurting you." His voice cracked slightly, revealing the vulnerability he had tried to keep hidden for so long.

Regulus turned to face James and finally saw the sincerity that was etched across James' features. Even though he had no real reason to, he was so desperate for a friend that he thought he might just be able to believe what James was saying.

His voice wavered, the edges of his resolve crumbling. "You have a funny way of showing it."

James took another step closer, closing the distance between them. "I know I haven’t been there for you in the past. I’m Sirius’ best friend, after all, and it isn’t like the two of you get along, but I do care about you. Sirius does too, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. I’ve tried to talk to you over the years, tried to get the two of you to reconnect, but all you’ve ever done is push me away.”

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest as though he were trying to close himself off or scared that James would be able to see right through him.

“I want to be here for you now, if you'll let me.

Regulus hesitated, his gaze shifting between James' eyes as if seeking the truth behind his words. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, he let out a sigh, the weight on his shoulders seeming to lessen just a fraction.

"Fine," he murmured, almost reluctantly. "But don't expect me to suddenly start trusting you."

James managed a small, genuine smile. "Fair enough. We can start with small steps. Like telling the professors you’re here, maybe?"

next chapter (coming soon)

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[hideyseek]

okay well i was doing something else (liveblogging me watching guardian episode 23) and i started writing a post that "quoted" the show, then second-guessed my translation, and then spent literally two hours thinking about how to translate the preceding sentence. oops. this post is so long but also was SO fun.

ok so the full ... thing that zhao yunlan says is: 他这个人呀，个性太深沉. 喜欢哑巴吃黄连. 所以我只能等着了, 等到他苦到心头, 苦到他自己说出来为止. i'm only actually translating the first sentence, bc it took me like two hours and i need to go to bed. that first sentence is: 他这个人呀，个性太深沉. the 他 (he) in this sentence refers to shen wei.

uh. direct translation (literal translation? idk what this is called) would be something like: he, this person, personality too [adjective]. just to give some sense of structure, bc i have translation opinions about this later.

first off, this adjective. 沈沉 (shen1 chen2) means both "deep, profound" and "undemonstrative, reserved", according to pleco. i'm willing to bet that the line is meant to describe shen wei with both meanings. my best translation includes the word "fathom". "hard to fathom" or "fathomless" — i think that leans toward both the "depth" part and the lack of knowing/understanding, though describing someone as "fathomless" conveys the distance of "reserved" from the other direction: a distance to breach rather than a distance created. i'll accept this only because zhao yunlan, rather than shen wei, is the one speaking (well also becaue there is not another english word i know that can do this lol.) also, the bit i'm most thrilled about with this word choice: both characters (沈沉) in the original phrase have the water radical, and 沉 used as a verb means "to sink" (as an adjective it means "heavy"). historically (but modern-day in usa english only apparently), a fathom is a unit (equal to 6 feet) used to measure water depth, which pleasantly mirrors the deep water that the original phrase invokes to me.

and then the matter of preserving the cadence of the original line. lol. lmao, even. in my mind, part of what i'm valuing as a translator is giving an actor the same amount of time to work with when speaking. does this matter to other people? probably not. if this was written down i would probably value something else. but i'm the one writing the world's longest post about this, and bai yu said it, so.

initially i thought something like: "he's— he's too fathomless a person." the added dash because i couldn't think of another way to give the reader or actor the space of "这个人呀", which directly translated is like "this person" and here in the line i think is just a way to lend emphasis to "他" (he). but the dash could also force an actor into playing hesitation on the line when it's not originally present -- the way bai yu says this, it comes across meandering/pondering. (screams)

ok fast forwarding to after i chewed on this stick for way too long, bc it got late and i wasn't that structured about thinking about it anymore. it became a sort of "brute force it and then identify what i dislike about this translation and try to fix it." i'm going with: "he's such a fathomless person, that guy." (admittedly, this is without translating the other sentences of this bit that zhao yunlan is saying. in full context / going into the next sentence i might tweak it later.) analysis (justification? lol) follows:

the addition of "that guy" emphasizes the "he" of the first phrase and lengthens the whole line without making it more formal (more difficult than i expected!) in a way that mirrors the "这个人呀" of the original line. this is the "giving an actor enough words to work with" thing. just "he's such a fathomless person" is much more direct than the original line. but with this translation, there is an added distance between the speaker and the object of the sentence. in the original line, zhao yunlan says "这个人", meaning literally "this person", but in the sentence i feel like it's being used as more like, "this example" ("he", shen wei). either way, to me there's a nearbyness/presence conveyed. but it didn't feel right to maintain the use of "this" when shen wei isn't in the room (actually i have no idea if he is even in the building), and also in english when speaking generally about a person, i feel like it's more ... fluid(??) to say "that guy" than "this guy" (though truthfully writing this post has made me doubt my grasp of english about seven times so i'm really not so sure anymore). anyway, the point is, i compromised with "that guy".

we also lose the directness of zhao yunlan commenting specifically on shen wei's character/personality, since the original line is phrased as, "his personality/character is too [adjective]", but i'm satisfied with how much of that idea is retained with this translation. i also don't want to prioritize including the word "personality" over mirroring the cadence of the translation (when this would also cost us the secondary meaning of "character"). and, when including an extra word to capture this meaning (ie, the word "personality"), i couldn't figure out a way to juggle both the "too/overmuch" meaning of 太 and the natural-sounding two-part structure to the original line. "his personality is too/so fathomless" / "he's too fathomless a person" both don't sound quite right to me, but "he's too hard to fathom" emphasizes this idea of difficulty/prior attempt that both isn't present in the original line and doesn't really feel in character for zhao yunlan at this point. by now shen wei has already described zhao yunlan as the one person who has attempted to/partially succeeded in understanding him.

i wanted a third pros/cons paragraph bc two felt like too few but i think that was already my entire rant about "fathom" above. the third pro is: this translation achieved ... basic translation, lol. it conveys roughly the same meaning as the spoken lines and as far as i can tell (not far) is roughly the same level of casual/formal-ness. it doesn't include any additional metaphors or similes not present in the original.

ok that's all lol. goodnight ✌️

[pineappical]

i ahve SO MANY HEADCANONS ABOUT TED (because i relate to him too much) and also about ted and beard’s friendship because they actually mean the world to me. here are some favs

1) ted and beard are TRANSGENDER and AUTISTIC and have ADHD!!!! beard uses he/they and ted uses he/him. beard’s gender can be best described as beard (i really hope that makes sense)

2) ted and beard echo each other’s vocal stims a lot and people will see them just repeating stuff back to each other without even looking at each other and just be like “wtf” (kind of like the time they kept repeating “plan” to each other over and over again)

3) ted and beard go nonverbal a lot and because of this both of them know ASL and will communicate during games or practice regularly

4) ted has a lot of nicknames for beard besides beard (his favorites are willy, william, and just plain ol’ will)

he also uses celebrities names as nicknames, because he thinks it’s hilarious (ie. willie nelson, william shakespeare, william shatner, etc)

5) i’m realizing now that this is the only ted centric one. oops. anyways he was the type of kid that loved bugs and rolling around in the dirt and playing in nature! he loves doodlebugs (aka roly polies, woodlouse, isopods) and it was one of his mom’s nicknames for him

sorry this is so long i spend my every waking moment thinking about this show (i have more of these. so many more. someone send help).

THISSSS ted and beard's relationship is one of my FAVORITES and ted calling him willie nelson is making me smile soso so much YES!!!!! i also like to think that if they get into a playful argument hes going to start lengthening it to stuff like "williamsoneth the third" or something equally random his big ass mind could come up with on the spot

[genolover]

Okay, I have been given the slightest validation. I shall now begin telling you all my various aus for cotl. I am not a writer or artist but by God am I adhd and I'm gonna word vomit now.

So anyways, surprise dad au is the same as the oops I misread this situation severely post. The reason the lamb didn't look for narinder for a long time is because they were still upset that they thought narinder relaxing was him propositioning them.

My second one I have only told my brother about exists because of a comic I saw on twitter. Girl is childhood friends with boy, knows his deepest secret, is blatantly in love with him, has even asked him out, and he still dates other girls that she chases away passive-aggressively. Like, bitch, just move on. If he's not interested in you until you leave, he didn't deserve you. Then it got away from me and now it's an au where the bishop siblings are foster siblings and followers but the bishops as gods also exist so they're followers of their own faiths. Narinder isn't the one the lamb is moving on from but who they end up with. The whole thing would need it's own post to cover the world building and stuffs.

Last one is where the bishops as gods didn't happen. Before narinder joins with shamura and kallamar, he's picked up by some cultists. He's kept as a slave for several years and the God grows fond of him so they give him a golden skull. He ends up running away without knowing just how long his life has been lengthened. Many years pass and he a lot of things to survive. He considers taking his own life several times but he keeps growing attached to people, taking them on as family. Eventually one of his nephews becomes the God of wine and festivities and narinder joins it. It literally only thrives because of narinder. Then the lamb joins and narinder takes them on as an assistant. They eventually marry.

I'm gonna have to write some for both these aus up and link them later.

[ignotussomnium]

Trick or treat!!

oops wrong account but I'll just reblog it. Here's another line from Anima, Animus.

Skeletal fingers lengthened into claws as long and sharp as scythes. Danny met it with a shield.

(On my Danny Phantom blog @ectoentity I am doing a writing game where I'll answer Trick or Treat asks with spooky lines from my WIPs. Come say hi!)