#spark control

[waynewardspain]

Spark Live Arrived!

[zeropro]

Sooo... who's worried about Sunny exploding because that's dangerous for others, who because this will be an inconvenient mess and who because they actullally care about him and don't want him dead?

Wonder if Star still has the "literally so what?" attitude about that ;-;

About Star's attitude on Sunstorm...

tfw you receive validation from your creepy clone?

[the follow up…]

[abyssal-ilk]

considering vivienne, dorian, and solas' dynamic in a pro-templar inquisition with an inquisitor who is extremely anti-mage is fascinating to me. especially since dorian is the only one of the three who has the option to leave– solas must remain to regain his orb and vivienne cannot risk losing any more political/social standing than she already has for her own safety and the safety of the remaining loyalist mages. solas is invaluable with his knowledge on the fade and otherwise makes himself small and unnoticeable, but vivienne doesn't have the ability to do that– and more than that, she has built herself up her entire life to do the exact OPPOSITE of that.

it's a very interesting mix of solas keeping to the sidelines to hopefully avoid conflict until he can get what he needs to further his own goals, dorian's refusal to back down in the face of anyone and his pride potentially putting him at risk to the point of being removed from the inquisition altogether, and vivienne needing to remain in the good graces of the inquisitor while simultaneously using her skills in negotiation and manipulation to keep the inquisitor from turning their templars onto the few mages who remain. spinning them in my brain

[trappedinafantasy37]

POV: Evil murder kitten tries to evil murder you in your sleep. She's desperate for a reason not to evil murder you because she does not want to.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Do you think it is possible for the other trolls to gaslight Eridan into do the murder for the right cause? E.g. not like the murderstuck in the canon but guiding his murderous direction to align with the purpose, using him as a disposable glass cannon and a cannon fodder to take down enemies? but not easily disposable due to seadweller's physical strength and his fighting skills. Not the optimal way to handle him but given that he needs some presence of others how will this scenario go?

no because i believe eridan is the specific type of idiot that you can't actually manipulate because he doesn't listen to people. god bless 🫡

[glitterghost]

If you aren't embedding your earbuds into your brain when listening to Aqua Regia, you're doing it absolutely wrong.

[akirasstories]

Blue, Gold, Red

for @thiamficweekly week 13

WC: 3326 | rating: M | cw/tw: none | tags: idiots in love, liam dunbar true alpha spark, biting and kissing

🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀

Just a milkshake. 

One of those ridiculously sweet, criminally overpriced ones from the 24-hour diner at the edge of town—the kind Theo pretended to complain about every time Liam insisted they stop there, which was often. 

But Theo always caved.

Because Liam liked them.

Because Liam always ordered the same thing.

Because Theo remembered.

And tonight was no different.

Liam sat in the passenger seat of Theo’s truck, legs spread like he owned the world, hoodie sleeves bunched at his elbows, blue eyes the streetlights through the windshield. He looked over and grinned, soft and boyish and unfairly beautiful, and said, “You remembered I like extra whipped cream?”

Theo, halfway into a sarcastic reply, caught the look on Liam’s face—sincere, surprised, pleased. And something in him faltered.

Because yeah. He had remembered.

Of course he had.

He always did.

What Theo didn’t expect—what completely derailed him—was for Liam to lean across the seat and kiss him.

Not a peck. Not a brush of lips.

A kiss.

Full. Certain. Stupidly soft at first—and then not.

Suddenly Liam was half in his lap, kneees awkwardly bumping the center console, milkshake long forgotten in the cupholder. Theo’s hands found Liam’s waist on instinct, sliding beneath the hem of his shirt like they’d been there a hundred times before.

Liam kissed like he fought—fierce and desperate, like the world might end if he didn’t give it everything he had. His fingers tangled in Theo’s hair, tugging hard enough to make Theo shiver, pulling a groan from somewhere deep in his chest.

The windows fogged. The world narrowed. They were making out like idiots in a grocery store parking lot, in a fogged-up truck, mouths hot and messy and frantic.

The air was thick with heat and breath and the low bass hum of a song neither of them were really hearing. Theo barely noticed the sting at first, the sharp scrape of fangs against his lower lip—but then Liam bit down, not hard, not enough to break skin, but enough to make Theo gasp and press closer.

It was chaos. 

Glorious, overwhelming chaos.

And Theo let it happen.

Let Liam lick into his mouth like he was trying to claim it. Let his own claws slide out a little when Liam rolled his hips down into him. Let his eyes flicker gold—just for a second—before he forced them back. He never let that happen.

But Liam was everywhere. 

Tasting. Biting. Grinding.

And Theo—control freak Theo—tilted his head back without thinking. He offered his neck.

Instinct.

And when Liam’s fangs grazed just below his jawline—when he bit down harder, not just playful but possessive—he didn’t pull away.

He let him.

 It hurt. But it felt right. Final. Like giving something away he never really owned in the first place.

And it felt good. 

Good enough to make Theo moan.

And when Liam finally pulled back, his lips were wet, his pupils blown wide, his breath ragged

His eyes weren’t gold.

They weren’t blue.

They were red.

Theo froze

His entire body went cold, his heart punching against his ribs like it wanted to escape.

Because that wasn’t a trick of the light. 

That wasn’t a glitch.

That was real.

—-

It had been nearly a year since the war with the hunters ended. Since the world didn’t burn, and Theo Raeken—former villain, genetic experiment, chimera freak—stayed.

Not like a ghost haunting the edge of town. Not hiding in tunnels or sleeping in his truck.

He stayed-stayed.

Got a job. Took community college classes. Helped Deaton. Slept in a real bed, under a real roof, not in his truck or some moldy abandoned tunnel. Got accepted into the local college, set to start in two months.

And somehow, despite everything, stayed close to Liam Dunbar.

Liam, with his righteous anger and his too-big heart and his fists that sometimes talked before his mouth could catch up. Liam, who flared gold when he was angry and still snarled at Theo like he might punch him just to make a point.

They grew closer.

That had happened slowly. 

In glances and grudging trust.

In stupid late-night drives, in silences they didn’t fill with apologies but with shared songs and milkshakes and sarcastic one-liners. 

Theo acted like none of it meant anything. Like he hadn’t spent months clinging to any excuse to stay near Liam.

But he did everything for him. Without hesitation. Without question.

Because Liam wasn’t like Scott.

Scott was perfect. Noble. Good. The kind of person people wanted to believe in. The guy who inspired others to be better. 

But Liam?

Liam was messy. Angry. Flawed. And still—still—he chose to be good, every single day. Even when it was hard. Especially when it was hard.

Theo thought that made Liam realer. More honest. Stronger.

That’s why the first time Theo noticed red flashing in Liam’s eyes—just for a second, like a glitch in a system—he didn’t panic.

He blinked. Tilted his head. Quietly stored it away.

Because he knew what it meant.

Liam Dunbar had the spark.

The potential.

The terrifying, impossible power.

Liam Dunbar could become a True Alpha.

Theo wasn’t surprised. 

He’d known for a long time that Liam had something burning inside him. Something bright. Something dangerous.

The kid who’d been dragged kicking and screaming into the supernatural world… and still fought to protect it?

Yeah. Theo had seen it coming.

But Liam hadn’t.

Which brought them to tonight.

To this moment.

To red.

Bright, real and so painfully vivid in the dark.

—-

Theo sat up so fast it jolted Liam, who blinked at him, dazed and flushed, lips kiss-bitten and cheeks red. His eyes had returned to blue now, wide and confused,like he hadn’t just shattered reality five seconds ago.

Still draped across Theo’s lap like he hadn’t just flipped the entire world on its axis.

“What?” Liam mumbled, voice wrecked from the kiss, already leaning in again like they could just keep going.

Theo slammed a hand to his chest, holding him back. “Wait. Liam. Look at me.”

“I am looking at you,” Liam said, frowning, like Theo had gone completely insane.

“No. Your eyes—” Theo exhaled, throat tight. “They were red, Liam.”

Liam stilled.

“What?” he asked again, less certain now.

“Red,” Theo said. “Not golden. Not blue. Red.”

Liam stared, brain clearly buffering.

“Like… like Alpha red?” he asked slowly, like saying it out loud might make it less real.

“No,” Theo deadpanned. “Like beta red. Yes, like Alpha red! Jesus, Liam!”

Liam blinked, still straddling Theo, shirt rumpled, hair a disaster from Theo’s hands. He looked like he’d just rolled out of a fever dream.

“They were really red?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

Theo didn’t answer. Just stared, heartbeat pounding, neck still throbbing from the bite. His brain had already sprinted fifteen steps ahead, making connections he didn’t want to make.

And Liam, sweet, stupid Liam, blinked again and said, “But… Scott’s alive.”

Theo let out a laugh that was more of a sound of disbelief than amusement. Bitter and sharp.

“Yeah. Scott’s alive. No one said you had to kill him to become an Alpha,” Theo said. “You just had to earn it. Which I guess you did. Somehow. Lucky you.”

Liam’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “That’s not—I can’t be a—”

“You can,” Theo said, voice flat. “Because you are.”

And then, softer, mostly to himself: “Of course it happens now. Great. Just—fuck me, right?”

Liam just kept staring at him. Puppy-eyed and confused. “Wait, but… that’s not bad, right?”

Theo turned his whole body to face him, staring like he was speaking another language.

“Is that bad?” he repeated. “Liam. You kissed me—which, great, amazing, ten out of ten, would definitely do again—but then you bit me. While your eyes were red. While your Alpha spark was activating or breaking through or doing whatever the hell it does when that kind of power decides to claim a body. ”

Liam blinked again. Still so baffled. Still gorgeous.

Still sitting on Theo like none of this was world-altering.

Theo huffed. “And because you’re apparently too stupid to realize what that means, let me spell it out for you.”

Liam tilted his head, still playing catch-up.

“You bit me,” Theo said. Slowly. “As an Alpha. Which means you gave me the bite.”

Liam’s brows furrowed. “Okay, but… you’ll heal, right?”

Theo just stared at him for a beat. 

Then pushed Liam off his lap—not violently, just enough to make him tumble back into the passenger seat like a startled kitten. Theo grabbed the steering wheel, gripping it like it might keep him grounded.

“You gave me the bite, Liam. As in the bite that turns humans into werewolves.”

“But you’re not human,” Liam said, confused.

Theo let out a strangled noise. “Correct. I’m not. I’m a freaky science experiment built by psychopaths who rewrote my DNA until I stopped making sense. So this bite? This could either A) finally make me a real werewolf—like, an actual beta with a normal biology—or B…”

He mimed an explosion with both hands. “Kill me. Painfully. Within twenty-four hours.”

Liam’s jaw dropped.

He turned, leaned toward the rearview mirror, and flashed his eyes.

Golden.

Theo watched him in stunned silence as Liam muttered, “Huh. Not red.”

“Oh my God,” Theo groaned, smacking the steering wheel. “Are you seriously more concerned with your eye color than the fact that you might’ve killed me, you absolute dumbass?!”

Liam turned back, guilty and wide-eyed. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know!”

Theo threw his hands up. “Of course you didn’t! No one plans to activate their Alpha spark during a makeout session in a grocery store parking lot!”

He dropped back in his seat, rubbing a hand down his face. “This is just my luck. I finally get to kiss the stupid boy I’ve been pining after like a lovesick loser for months—and what do I get? A bite. An accidental bite. So now I either become a real werewolf, which would be wild and kind of poetic, or I die in agony by sunrise. Awesome. Fantastic. Love that for me.”

Liam blinked. “Wait… you’ve been pining after me?”

Theo froze.

His head whipped around so fast it cracked his neck.

“You’re stuck on that part?!”

“I mean, yeah?” Liam said,still wide-eyed.  “You said it. Like out loud. Pining. That’s… a word. With meaning.”

“Are you kidding me?” Theo barked, voice pitching up in disbelief. “I just told you that you might’ve accidentally killed me and that’s what you’re latching onto?”

“You said you were into me.”

Theo shoved the key into the ignition and started the truck. “We’re going to Deaton. Right now. Before I either die or strangle you.”

Liam, still looking dazed and awestruck, murmured, “Pretty sure you moaned.”

“Pretty sure you’re gonna walk home,” Theo snapped.

“You kissed me back.”

“I was concussed by shock.”

“You grabbed my shirt.”

“You bit my neck!”

Liam grinned, completely unapologetic. “And you liked it.”

Theo growled, actually growled, pressing harder on the gas like he could outrun the last ten minutes. 

“I’m dying.”

“You’re probably not.”

“You don’t know that.”

Liam paused, then offered helpfully, “Hayden survived the bite.”

“Hayden didn’t have her inside rearranged by science-worshipping psychopaths with God complexes, Liam.”

“Oh.”

A beat.

“…Right.”

Silence settled between them. Heavy. The low hum of the tires on asphalt the only sound.

Then, softer this time, Liam asked, “…You really like me?”

Theo didn’t answer.

He just gripped the wheel tighter. And drove faster.

—

Luckily, Deaton was still at the clinic when they arrived—probably finishing a late-night check on the animals. HHe looked up as they burst through the side door, eyebrows lifting just slightly at the sight of them: Theo with a fresh bite on his neck, and Liam looking like he’d been kissed senseless.

“Long night?” Deaton asked, voice annoyingly calm.

Theo didn’t respond right away. He perched on the edge of the exam table, avoiding Liam’s gaze and launching into the facts—mostly. He explained that Liam’s eyes had turned red, that he’d been bitten, and that, given his, uh… unique biology, he had no idea what it meant.

He very deliberately left out the part where Liam had been in his lap and moaning like it was a deleted scene from a very different kind of movie.

Deaton listened, hands tucked in his coat pockets, expression unreadable in that Deaton way—but Theo didn’t miss the flicker of realization that crossed his face when he glanced between the bite mark and Liam.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

But he didn’t say a word.

Instead, he hummed thoughtfully and said, “If Liam’s eyes are golden again, then the spark hasn’t fully taken hold. Not yet. Which means the bite wasn’t… complete. Not like it would be from a full Alpha. You should be fine.”

“So I’m not going to die?” Theo asked, voice flat, eyes narrowed.

“I wouldn’t expect that, no,” Deaton said. “But just in case, you shouldn’t be alone tonight. If your body reacts… unexpectedly, I need someone there to call me.”

He said it like it was a simple medical recommendation. But the look he gave them was pointed. Very pointed.

“I’m not going to tell Scott. Or anyone else,” he added, more quietly. “I think you two can handle this. And I trust you,” he looked at Liam now, “to stay with him. Watch for any changes.”

Liam nodded immediately. “I will.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Fantastic. Bite someone once and suddenly you're assigned night duty.”

Deaton didn’t dignify that with a response. Just gave him a look that said, you’re not half as annoyed as you want me to believe, and disappeared down the hall, leaving them to see themselves out.

—-

Back in the truck, the silence was different now. Heavier. Not awkward—just charged.

Liam was watching him again. Quiet. Intent. Like he couldn’t help it.

Theo started the engine, eyes forward. “You’re still staring.”

“You still kissed me.”

Theo drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “This conversation again?”

“We didn’t finish it,” Liam said simply. “And Deaton didn’t say you’re dying, so… we’ve got time.”

Theo let out a long breath through his nose. “You’re really gonna make me do this, huh.”

Liam shrugged, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You did say you’ve been pining.”

“I was emotional. Possibly delirious. Also bleeding.”

“Doesn’t sound like a denial.”

Theo shot him a sharp look. “I kissed you back because you caught me off guard.”

“You slid your hands under my shirt.”

“I was verifying your abs were real and not a product of Photoshop and fragile masculinity.”

“Uh-huh. You literally offered your neck to me.”

Theo’s lips twitched. Just barely. “Well, you do get bitey when you’re turned on.”

Liam flushed immediately, a red tint blooming across his cheeks like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to fade or deepen. Theo’s eyes snapped to the subtle shift in color, noticed the way Liam’s scent spiked—nervous, warm, and laced with a very specific kind of tension.

He didn’t say anything.

But he filed it away like he always did. Neatly. Precisely. Something to unravel later. Like a gift.

Liam cleared his throat. “I wasn’t turned on, I was just—okay, maybe slightly. But I was literally in your lap, and you—”

Theo held up a hand. “You really don’t need to explain how my entire existence overwhelms your teenage hormonal brain.”

Liam made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a flustered wheeze.

Theo smirked, eyes back on the road. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I’ve had a crush on you since, like… probably since you tried to kill me, which is weird and possibly something for a therapist,” Liam admitted. “So yeah. I’m kinda enjoying this.”

Theo finally looked over..

Really looked.

And Liam wasn’t grinning now. He was just… open. Honest. 

“You like me,” Theo said, testing the weight of it aloud.

Liam nodded. “I do.”

Theo narrowed his eyes. “And you’re not freaking out over the fact that you might be becoming an Alpha and your first move was to bite me like some horny werewolf-vampire hybrid?”

Liam leaned in, grinning. “I mean... no. Because I didn’t kill you. And also? You kissed me back.”

Theo rolled his eyes and stared out the windshield. “I’m going to regret telling you anything.”

Liam’s smile turned soft again. “We could go back to your place.”

Theo gave him a sidelong glance. “If you’re expecting sex, I’m still mildly traumatized and may or may not be partially infected with supernatural venom.”

Liam choked slightly—just enough for Theo to glance back over and smirk. Because yeah, there it was again. That scent spike. That warm flush. Nervousness tinged with something distinctly not nervous.

“Relax,” Liam said, recovering with only a hint of a crack in his voice. “I meant hanging out. Watching a movie. Maybe couch cuddling. I’m not that much of a perv.”

“Sure you’re not,” Theo said smoothly. “You only dry-humped me in a grocery store parking lot.”

“You were into it.”

Theo didn’t deny that.

And Liam knew it. Which is why he was smirking again.

Theo refused to let him win this round. So instead, he said coolly, “I guess I can tolerate your presence for a few hours.”

“Hours?” Liam echoed. “I was planning to stay all night.”

“You’re a menace.”

“You’re soft for me.”

“Lies.”

“You keep looking at my mouth.”

Theo stepped on the gas. “Say one more word, and you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Liam was still grinning when they pulled into the lot outside Theos place.

—

Theo’s apartment was small—barely lived in, borderline minimalist, but clean. It

Liam walked in like he’d done it before, kicked off his shoes, and sprawled across the couch like it was his. 

Theo let him. 

Mostly because it was… weirdly nice, watching Liam fit so easily into the space that had always felt too quiet.

Theo tossed him a blanket, then dropped down beside him. Not close. Not touching.

Not until Liam shifted closer without asking and slung his leg lazily over Theo’s thigh.

And then it was over.

The second kiss happened somewhere in between bickering about which movie to put on and Liam mumbling, “You’re just stalling because you want me to kiss you again.”

Theo leaned in and kissed him just to shut him up.

It was slower this time. Less chaos. More control. 

Lips brushing over skin like they had all night to get there. 

Fingers skimming ribs, threading into hair, slipping under fabric.

Warm. 

Steady. 

Intentional.

Theo kissed like he’d been waiting for months, because he had.

And Liam kissed like he wanted it to last forever

They didn’t go further than kissing. They didn’t need to. 

Touches lingered. 

Breath mingled. 

They stayed tangled together on the couch under the blanket, skin pressed to skin in slow-burning silence. 

Liam fell asleep eventually, one arm flung over Theo’s chest like he was trying to keep him from going anywhere.

Theo didn’t sleep right away.

He stayed awake, listening to Liam’s heartbeat, feeling his breath on his collarbone. Trying not to think about how much this already felt like a memory. Like something he wanted to keep.

—

It was almost dawn when Liam stirred, face buried against Theo’s neck, voice gravel-soft.

“You know,” he mumbled, lips brushing skin, “you’re lucky.”

Theo blinked, still wrapped up in the feel of him. “Lucky?”

“Yeah,” Liam said, pressing a lazy kiss to the edge of Theo’s jaw. “You got kissed and bitten by me. And you were very into it, by the way.”

Theo huffed, shaking his head but smiling anyway.

“I almost died.”

“You didn’t.”

“You almost Alpha’d me to death in a truck.”

“You offered your neck.”

“You growled.”

“You moaned.”

Theo sighed and rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” he said, voice low and full of fondness. “Just my luck.”

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

It's DNA

I was watching Smough's video, and he featured this sacred seal from the Erdtree peoples who were inspired by the Hornsent peoples.

The Land of the Tower (Hornsent) considered helixes as some kind of divine geometry/symbol. The double helix is notably calls to mind either the Caduceus symbol of medicine (twin snakes in a double helix - wink nudge nudge) OR...

It looks like a strand of DNA.

The Crucible wasnt just the primordial form of the Erd Tree. It was the primordial form of Everything - all living beings. To be Crucible blessed like the Hornsent is to acquire a mixture of active genes that would be have been recessive otherwise- thats why you get wings, horns, tails. (We share 90% or so of our DNA with like flies or bananas!)

Everyone is technically born from the Crucible and (as Marika proves by birthing OMEN sons) the Hornsent/Shaman are the same species!! Again recessive genes that get activated maybe?

And guess what? Splicing, grafting - that could be done to trees... or DNA... Godrick's prized practice is essentially a revised version of what the Crucible does naturally to living creatures.

The Crucible = The Gene Pool

[fannedandflawless]

The Wand That Yielded to Grief: A Snape Wand Theory

Darling, let’s talk wandlore—not the polished kind with Phoenix feather packaging and eager eleven-year-olds. No, no. We’re diving into Severus Snape’s wand. And the story? It's neither charming nor convenient. It’s charred.

Let’s begin with what little we do know.

The Canonical Silence

Official sources—wand replicas, Wizarding World merch, and the occasional lore snippet—suggest:

Wood: Ebony

Length: ~13.25 inches

Core: ?

That’s right, love. The core has never been confirmed. J.K. Rowling left it blank, the movies skipped it, and the books said nothing. Silence. Total silence. Which, frankly, is suspiciously on brand for Severus Snape.

Ebony, for the record, is a wand wood known for loyalty, strength, and an affinity for those who live by their own rules—individuals who walk away from the crowd without looking back. Sound familiar? Oh, absolutely.

But let’s go deeper.

⸻

Was That Wand Always His?

Remember the infamous scene—Snape hanging upside down, humiliated by the Marauders? The Severus in that memory didn’t fight back. Not with magic. He thrashed, cursed, but did not cast. Some fans assumed cowardice. But darling... I can’t help wondering if it might have been something else.

What if the wand in his hand wasn’t truly his at the time?

Perhaps it was a borrowed wand. Possibly his mother’s. A hand-me-down, serviceable but stubborn. It could cast spells, yes—but not instinctively. Not like a wand that had chosen its master in a moment of absolute clarity.

At fifteen, Snape was still divided. One part aching for Lily. Another drawn to the shadows of power. His identity was not yet forged, his inner world fractured. And from what we understand of wandlore, no wand of serious character would yield fully to a master it couldn’t read with certainty.

So when James struck without warning—Levicorpused him into the air—there was no duel. Only shock. Scramble. Exposure. And possibly... a wand that didn’t respond.

It’s just a thought, of course. But perhaps that wand wasn’t his. Not yet.

⸻

The Turning Point: The Half-Blood Prince

When did that change? Oh darling. The moment ink hit parchment and a boy wrote:

"This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince."

That was it. That was the baptism. He hadn’t yet started anything with anyone—no romance, no allegiance. Perhaps Lily was already slipping away, and maybe, just maybe, resentment had started to take root. It might’ve been the first time he truly felt seen within Slytherin—not for being clever or strange, but for doing something that others there deemed right. If there was a turning, it wasn't toward someone. It was away. Away from the pain, the disappointment, the fruitless effort. Maybe that’s when power began to shimmer—not as a prize, but as the only thing that might still answer back.

From that moment on, his mind sharpened. Cunning replaced confusion. The grief hadn’t come yet, but the isolation had—and he began to wield it like a weapon. That’s when he would’ve acquired the wand we now associate with him:

Ebony wood

Inflexible

Cold to the touch, but alive in the hand of someone who never asked to be warm again

⸻

Post-Lily: The Emotions That Forged Obedience

Now, fast-forward. Lily is dead. And Snape is no longer fractured. He is hollowed. The core that once wavered with longing is now filled with singular, punishing clarity. Let’s break it down:

1. Grief (but not the weeping kind) This is grief weaponised—steady, silent, permanent. He does not mourn. He functions. Every breath is penance.

2. Resentment Towards himself, Dumbledore, James, the world. And perhaps—even Lily. Not out of hatred, but from a wound so deep it blurred blame and pain. For choosing James. For becoming unreachable. For dying before he could make anything right. He might not have resented her directly—but in a heart that no longer knew how to grieve cleanly, every loss left behind a trace of bitterness.

3. Control Emotion stripped to its most minimalist form. No outbursts. No chaos. Just tight, merciless control.

4. Duty The unasked-for vow. The boy lives, so the man must serve. Not because he wants to. But because he no longer permits himself not to.

5. Emptiness The absence of desire. Nothing left to want. Only actions left to take. He becomes function incarnate.

And the wand? Oh, it submits.

Because by now, Snape’s emotional register is so sharpened, so pared down, that there is no room left to resist him.

He doesn’t ask the wand to obey. He tells it—and it does.

Because if it didn’t? The wand itself might’ve felt it—some deep, ancient knowing—that failure to cooperate wouldn’t lead to a scolding, but a fate worse than irrelevance. Not snapped in punishment, but surrendered to fire, repurposed as kindling for something colder. That’s the level we’re at.

⸻

Final Word: The Wand That Yielded

Snape didn’t earn his wand’s loyalty through brilliance. He bled it out of himself.

"He didn’t tame his wand with greatness. He subdued it with grief."

Darling, if I were that wand and I so much as twitched against his will, I’d snap myself in half out of shame.

Now pour the tea, snap the fan, and tell me I’m wrong. I won’t argue—just raise a brow, maybe. But deep down, we both know how this ends, don’t we?

[sparkarrestor]

Plinthed

Written By: SparkArrester

     Edward sat in the works, alone. Well, not alone, for it was the middle of the day and the workmen were busy with the usual goings on. Too busy to really pay him much notice. He didn’t really mind, as it left him able to rest comfortably without men poking and prodding at him. As comfortable as he could, at least, after his incident. He had brought a heavy train home during a thunderstorm, all while his left siderod was lodged in his running board. He had to run as a single, slipping and sliding all the way from the branchline to the big station. Now, he was waiting on repairs to go back in service. The new diesel, BoCo couldn’t do it on his own, and besides, he needed help to keep the twins in line, didn’t he?

As Edward was dozing, he heard the crunch of shoes on ballast coming towards him, and opened his eyes. It was the Fat Controller, and Edward watched as he shooed away the CME and walked up in front of him.

“Good Morning, Sir”, Smiled Edward, “Here for a visit?”

“Indeed.” Replied The Fat Controller, in a rather neutral tone, “Just check up on what is happening, and for you, of course.”

“Me?” Said Edward, “Well, I’m doing fine so far, but I’ll be even better once I’m back in steam! I’m sure the twins miss me, and I shan’t leave BoCo on his own.”

Edward noticed the slight change of expression on the Fat Controller’s face, but kept up his smile.

“Is everything alright, sir?”

“Well…” Replied The Fat Controller, before taking a breath and going back to his neutral tone, “I have something I’d like to tell you. Something important.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well, Edward, you… you’re one of the most experienced engines on this island, and what happened yesterday, well, it was very admirable, getting those people home in your condition. Your boiler ticket is about to run out as well, so I’ve been thinking…”

While the Fat Controller was taking, Edward smile slowly morphed into a frown, but he held off speaking until-

“How would you like to… retire?”

“...what?”

The Fat Controller braced himself, especially at Edward’s expression, but he steeled himself, and pressed onwards.

“We can fix you up cosmetically, and we can place you somewhere that you’ll always have others to talk to! Like the big station! The passengers and engines, especially the young engines, will all benefit with you around, like that old engine from Barrow!”

That just seemed to make the expression on Edward’s face worse.

“Erm, well, look Edward, I think that-”

“N-No.”

“... I’m sorry?”

Both engine and controller were startled, Edward the most. He couldn’t even remember the last time he denied his controller something, but he went through with it regardless.

“Sir, I… I don’t want to be taken out of service, I don’t want to be plinthed and be one big useless ornament taking up place in a station or on a siding. I want to be working, with my friends, pulling trains and being worth something, not just the useless thing someone has to clean whenever they need disciplining.”

The Fat Controller stared wide-eyed at Edward, but let him continue.

“And I know that trains are getting heavier, and I know that my age is very much catching up with me, but I can’t stop now. I won’t stop now. I’m not ready for retirement, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I’m… I'm sorry. If that, well, If that upsets any plans you have.”

They both sat in silence for only a few minutes, but it felt like forever. It took every ounce of nerve Edward had to keep going, and not simply apologize and go along with whatever The Fat Controller had planned for him. He was struck by the thought of what his friends would do if they had heard. The big engines had always said he was meant for retirement sooner rather than later (well Gordon mostly, and he wasn’t too sure on where they stood these days), but he was certain that the tank engines would cause a ruckus at least. Though, while they weren’t as old as him, they weren’t exactly the picture of modernity themselves, were they? However any more thoughts on that were cut off as The Fat Controller spoke.

“Alright.” He said, quite easily. Edward blinked.

“Really?” He said, mouth agape, “Just like that?”

“Well…” Said The Fat Controller, giving a proper smile, “If you’d like to keep serving your railway, who am I to stop you? Your knowledge would be more useful on the rails than on a plinth. I’ll see about moving you from cosmetic repairs to a full overhaul, at once.”

“I-I… Thank you, sir!”

“It’s no bother.”

And with that, The Fat Controller turned on his heel, and walked away.

[fluffyxai]

Post Apocalyptic Playfulness

A commission for Moon Sparks of themself and their partner's OCs in the world of Fallout. It seems Moon Sparks has some cool apps on his pip boy. It seems Moon Sparks has some cool apps on his pip boy. Wait, can they have 'apps'??

[waynewardspain]

Building Boards

The new palmer pedal board 60 landed! its a slightly tilted metal assembly to attach all you musical goodies too! The main aim is to drop the board out on the floor at shows and just power it and connect the two audio outs to what ever system your using! This also connects to one power cable with two audio send cables so can send one audio and a monitor send if not using the underneath built in,…

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Caranthir at the annual Feanorian strategy meeting: You know, we could just chuck it all and turn to piracy. It would be a LOT easier.

[claudianolastname]

Do You Know What it Means to Be Loved by Death ? • Claudia

[steelheart-redux]

omg ur spoiling us so much lately

sniles

[notnyxxy]

quick doodle to cope from todays episode