#it's still the tenth in my timezone

[yabutsuba]

3/10 is Mitori day

[honey-milk-depresso]

19 Reasons (Tim Drake x Reader)

It’s Tim’s birthday in my timezone, so I’m writing my first ever DC Comic post- yes- fiNALLY-

Summary: You said you wished your turning 19 year old Tim “Happy Womb Escape” by presenting a slideshow titled “19 reasons why I love Tim Drake.”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

“Guess what day it is?”

“19 July?” He didn’t even bat an eye, busy typing away on his computer without a care in the world.

“Seriously? Okay stop working,” you closed his laptop and shove it away to a corner, “you literally forget it’s your birthday today?”

He looks at you nonchalantly before crossing his arms with an eyebrow raised. “Well, it’s not that important?”

You gasped in horror, dramatically rolling up to his chest with your hand pressed to your forehead and the other clutching your heart. “ ‘Not important’? My own boyfriend saying his birthday is ‘not important’? Non!”

He rolled his eyes, playfully and lightly shoving you away as he smirked. You grinned.

“I’m going to show you why it’s important with this slideshow!” You placed your own laptop on his lap, the monitor flashing a slideshow titled “19 Reasons Why I Love Tim Drake”.

“Oh god. This is gonna be fun,” he joked.

“Before that, I would just like to say,” you started, clicking to the next slide, “ ‘Happy Womb Escape’ to you, Drake.”

“Wait wha-”

“Now first reason!” You clicked to the next slide, cutting your baffled vigilante as you cleared your throat to perform your lines.

“Number one! He’s Red Robin, Gotham’s best vigilante out there! Ain’t I ever seen another like him!”

“There’s Bruce, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, Lu-”

“STOP- THERE IS NO ONE LIKE YOU!” You groaned in frustration, making Tim chuckle. “Yeah but I’m basically just like them.”

“I ain’t see someone who single-handedly took down the Joker? Obeah Man? Got rid of the booty shorts of Robin? That’s a crime, by the way.” You said it in a “matter-of-fact” way. He snorted.

“Secondly! He’s the most hardworking man I know! But also he needs rest so take notes. Third! He’s the biggest, dorkiest dork on earth who loves machines, science, and he googles the most random things on the internet just to give me a fun fact later on out of the blue!”

“Fourth! His hair is fluffy as hell and it makes him very nice to pat on the head! Fifth! He’s a nerd! And that’s cute! Sixth, Tim is the smartest man I’ve ever met. I bet he could find the last digit of Pi in like 2 seconds in his brain. Seventh!”

Tim smiled warmly, soon becoming smug the more you went on with your points. He looked so proud.

“Seventh, is that he’s a bisexual icon! Enough said. Eighth! He lends me his sweaters and they all smell like him which is the nice part.”

“You stole them, you mean?”

“Shhhh, let the presenter speak. Anyways, ninth! Timmy bringing me to a burger joint on our first date and he didn’t judge me for it. I’ll tell you something I didn’t until now: I was pretty scared you judged me but you didn’t. So thank god.”

“I always judge you, Y/N, it’s alright,” Tim smirked. You looked at him with a frown, not amused. “Yeah, okay never mind, I should take this slide down.”

“Hey!” He said, grinning as wide as you were. “Next! Tenth! He watches over me even when he’s on patrol to make sure I’m safe!”

“You… know? I thought I was pretty well hidden…” he blinked in surprise.

“Tim, you may be a detective and that’s exactly the point. It doesn’t take some of your skills to rub off of me,” again, you said it as a matter-of-fact.

“Eleventh! He’s a skater boy, and he’s my ‘Skater Boi’,” Tim once again snorted, much louder upon understanding that pop culture reference.

“Twelfth, he loves watching old, 80s to 90s cheesy movies and geeks out about them all the time while we’re watching! Don’t ever shut up, by the way. Thirteenth! He always fidgets with his fingers and hands when he’s bored subconsciously! That in itself is adorable.”

“Fourteenth! He’s a terrible cook, but he still tries anyways. It’s also adorable~” He rolled his eyes, folding his arms.

“Wow, I feel so loved.”

“Yesh, and I love you very much as well, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne,” you teased. He scoffed lightly. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Fifteenth! He is the best cross-dresser. That is all. Sixteenth! HE IS THE WORLD’S GREATEST DETECTIVE! Like he found Waldo every 2 seconds, finished 5 books of him in 1 minute,” you said, doing an amateur explosion side effect by saying “kaploosh” with your hands doing the mind-blown action.

“Again, Bruce and everyone else in my family.”

“Again, there is no one like you, Detective Tim. Seventeenth! Best photographer! Also enough said! Love everything you take, sweetie! Eighteenth! He makes using a metal stick look badass!”

“And lastly! Nineteenth! Drum roll please!” You use your knuckles to lightly drum against the wooden floors. “He’s Tim Drake! What’s not to love?” You smiled. It was so contagious that he found himself smiling as stupid and gleefully as you did.

He had always been insecure of his abilities and himself in general, so he was so flustered and gooey on the inside with how genuine you were with each point. Although, his flustered-ness was showing with pink blooming on his cheeks.

“Okay, guess I understand why my birthday’s important now.”

“Glad you understood my report, Mr Drake!” You smiled at him.

“So now I shall say,” you drum-rolled again, quickly tossing your arms around him and lightly pecked his cheek with a grin.

“I love you, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne.”

He smiled at you lovingly, cupping your cheek as he gently brushed his thumb against it. “And I love you, too, YF/N L/N. Thanks for your birthday gift.”

You laughed sweetly. “The gift is you, technically~”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

Reblogs help! ^^

[goodboyriddler]

I’m sorry that I’m sending this so early but 7pm EST is kinda late in my timezone so I was hoping maybe I could send something earlier?!!? Currently thinking about Edward riding the readers leg whilst he begs for release…that would be pretty hot me thinks. Ignore this if you’re not accepting early requests!! Ty i hope you have the best day 😁❤️

thank you for participating! don't worry I know timezones are wack, and I can't resist sub Eddie, hope you enjoy this little piece whenever you see it!!

"Please, I've been good- I'll do anything." His voice breaks in the last sentence as he looks up at you, through clear glasses from his place kneeling on the floor.

You pat his soft brown hair with one hand while the other taps a pen to your lips. Shifting a little in your place on the chair you're sitting.

"What's an 8-letter word for waiting?" You ignore his question, your eyes only firmly in the crossword puzzle in front of you.

"P-please-."

"I asked you a question, Eddie." You grip his hair as a warning.

His Adam's apple moves as he scrambles in his mind for a coherent answer it will satisfy you. You're so beautiful watching him.

"Patience." And this time he can't help to close his eyes and answer. "T-the word is patience."

"It is! There you go, aren't you a clever one." You scribble down in your paper. Then he keens, pushing himself against your palm when you give him a small pat in the head. "Good boy."

Edward whines, melting in your hand, his hips resuming his little sloppy thrusts into your leg. He has pleased you, and that makes him so happy he could cry.

He's been hard for what he thinks it's been hours. First rubbing himself against his own palm, the pillow, and then you had given him permission to do it in your leg.

It had felt so good, his hard cock getting friction. And he knows he should be grateful for what you're giving to him, anything at all letting him touch you. The front of his boxers is soaked from his precum. Every time he is close you had stopped him, and he had begged, but you haven't let him cum.

He quickens his pace, the side of his face resting in your lap, his glasses going askew, as he grips your leg with both hands, moaning as he chases that familiar feeling in his stomach for what he thinks it's the tenth time.

You aren't looking at him, still your eyes in your crossword, and he moans. He's not good enough for your attention.

"Please-" Edward sobs earnestly, feeling tears run down his red cheeks. He kisses your thigh, buries his face there, worships you. "I want to cum, please, please, let me come? Please? I'm a good boy, I've been good for you."

He pants, his glasses fogging, as he grips your leg harder. Whines, trying to catch your attention.

You put your pen down.

"Mhm, aren't you pretty like this?" You finally, finally look at him.

Your other hand goes to his face and he opens his mouth instinctively, but you laugh shaking your head at him. Your fingers go to wipe out his tears off his cheeks and you think he looks so beautiful with his dishevel hair and teary green eyes.

"Please." Edward whispers to you, seemingly the only word he knows now.

You smile at him. You're feeling merciful tonight.

"You can cum."

"T-thank you, thank you so much." His pace quickens as he tries to let his gratitude show. He wants to cry by how nice you are letting him cum.  You feel him fuck himself harder into your leg as he whimpers. "You're so good to me, thank you so much."

It doesn't take him much to let one final sloppy thrust as he cums in his boxers with a high whine as he looks at you. You feel him stain in your leg.

"There you go, that's it." You praise as you run your hand through his hair and he goes limp in your legs. "Was that good?"

He sleepily nods, smiling at you, kissing your thighs.

"See? Patient boys get rewarded."

[chaotic-tired-bastard]

Hi, you remember the Ashamed Anon™? Welp it's me again.

I've been going through some tough stuff, so would you mind writing for Salgexicon comforting the reader after witnessing some weird shit? I just need a hug, preferably from the big wizard guy.

Anyway, I hope you're alright dear author. Have a good day/night whatever is more suitable for your timezone.

Sincerely,

Ashamed Anon

I MANAGED TO FINISH THIS TODAY AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

Quick TW for blood

You repressed a shiver, wiping your hands on your clothes for the tenth time in the past three minutes. They still felt gross. They still felt dirty. You and the party had been fighting a ginormous dragon because it had been terrorising a nearby city and was just generally being a jerk. Skurdgvrm had managed to slay it by slicing its stomach open, but you had been unfortunate enough to be right beneath it when he did so.

Blood and intestinal matter had gotten all over you, covering you from head to toe. At that moment, you had almost vomited. You still felt like puking your guts up now.

You had managed to find a stream to clean your clothes and yourself in, but you could swear you still felt it. The slick, dark sliminess of blood and whatever had been in its intestines oozing down your face and arms. The sharp scent of blood, the coppery-iron odour so strong that you swore you could taste it when you breathed, like how a snake could taste the air for prey with its tongue. You shuddered, wiping your hands yet again.

You were on the night watch, now, staring into the darkness as the fire in front of you crackled. Salgexicon was only a few feet from you, Scarla on the opposite side of the fire with Bessie and Skurdgvrm between them. You wanted to wake him a bit early for his watch just to hear his soothing voice, to help chase away the nightmares you would undoubtedly have.

Regardless of your wishes, you let the sorcerer sleep. The battle had taken a lot out of him, maybe even more so than it had out of you, and it would be unfair if you woke him early because of your… your silly fears. The fire cast shadows over your body, throwing the shadows on your body into a stark contrast of the warm glow of the flames. The shadows remind you of the dark blood of the dragon and you couldn’t help but whimper, shaking your body to get rid of that disgusting feeling that just kept coming back.

Salgexicon rolled over to face you, light bags under his eyes and a look of concern on his face. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asked, his voice surprisingly clear for someone that had just been asleep.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Why’re you up?” You replied, internally mortified at the idea that you had woken him up prematurely.

“Couldn’t sleep,” He replied, studying your face.

Well then. A small glow of warmth flickered in your chest, relief pulsating in your heart that you hadn’t woken him up. “But still, are you okay?” Salgexicon asked cautiously.

You nodded, tearing your eyes away from his face and into the fire. “It’s just been a long day,” You replied.

Salgexicon sighed. “How about I take my watch early? You get some sleep now,” He offered, pulling himself out of his bedroll and stretching silently.

“Are you sure? You just said you haven’t gotten any sleep-” “I’m sure, Y/N. Now, get some sleep or I’ll have to magic you to sleep,” Salgexicon interrupted you, a charming smile on his face.

You blushed a bit and nodded, getting up from your spot. As you did so, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit you, making you double take. Maybe it was a good thing that Salgexicon had taken over when he did.

You stumbled over to a small patch of unoccupied grass, spreading out your bedroll and laying down. It was cold, sort of like how you had been when drenched in the dragon’s blood, and it made you shudder. You weren’t going to get any comforting sleep tonight.

┠✮🌌✮┨

Blood. Blood, dark, oozing everywhere. Over your skin, into your clothes, through your fingers and back again. Making you feel like screaming and crying and throwing yourself into a fire just to get it off of you. You stared into the darkness, breathing heavily as the blood flowed over you from seemingly nowhere. Two red eyes stared back.

You shot up, your eyes wide with terror and you frantically checked yourself over, your breathing quick and frantic. Salgexicon’s head shot up, his hazel eyes alert. He relaxed when he saw that it was just you, but then he noticed how scared you looked.

Your hands were shaking, your eyes wide as you trembled, staring at your bed roll with a look of horror. “Y/N, are you alright?” He called, loud enough to be heard but soft enough to not wake anyone up.

Your head snapped up, your eyes still wide. You didn’t relax when you saw him- you couldn’t. Every muscle in your body was tense, anticipating some kind of threat that wasn’t there to make itself known. “I-I’m fine,” You stuttered, trying and miserably failing to make yourself sound just as fine as you claimed to be.

Salgexicon frowned, getting up and walking over to you. You held your breath in a pathetic and futile attempt to stop your trembling. He kneeled down, taking one of your hands softly. It still trembled, even in his gentle grasp. “I don’t think you’re ‘fine’, Y/N. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He said, his tone kind.

You couldn’t lie to him; he saw right through you. You sighed shakily, your finger slowly curling around Salgexicon’s hand. “Remember when we fought the dragon?” You asked softly, not looking him in the eye.

Salgexicon nodded, saying, “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well… when I got covered in the ick… I think it messed me up more than I realised,” You mumbled, feeling embarrassed and oh so vulnerable.

Salgexicon said, “When I saw you like that… I could have sworn you were going to cry. I didn’t say anything about it because I didn’t want to intrude.”

You nodded, your breathing slower but no less shaky. You felt like you were going to cry now. “Can…can I have a hug?” You asked weakly.

“Of course, Y/N,” Salgexicon said, opening his arms and wrapping them around you.

He had his cloak on, the dark fabric wrapping around you like a blanket, heated by the fire and Salgexicon’s own body heat. He smelled nice- like pine and cider and there was just a wisp of a smell you couldn’t put a name to. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling better already.

Salgexicon always had that type of an effect on you, but never to this extent. He had never held you close enough to let you hear his heart beat, to let you press your cheek against his chest and breathe in his scent. You could feel the fear draining out of you, being replaced with an overwhelming feeling of affection. This… this was… nice.

“Can I do anything else for you?” Salgexicon mumbled, his voice soft and low.

You shook your head, feeling a smile emerge on your face. “Can we hug for a bit more?” You asked, your calmness (and maybe your affection) overflowing into your voice.

Salgexicon nodded, setting back as you leaned into him. You could swear he was smiling.

[darlcng]

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthe  𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕  𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆  of  life  !

[  CLOSED  !  ]  𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  is  a  ten-room  &  two-story  house  located  in  the  suburbs  of  los  angeles  ,  about  fourty  minutes  driving  from  downtown  la  ,  which  offers  a  cozy  living  room  ,  a  fully  equipped  kitchen  and  even  a  pool  and  a  backyard  .  sounds  like  a  dream  ,  right  ?  except  that  the  rent  is  not  as  good  as  you  thought  .  however  ,  you  really  liked  it  .  that’s  why  ten  struggling  strangers  who  fell  in  love  with  the  house  decided  to  do  something  rather  risky  :  rent  the  house  together  and  share  the  expenses  .  their  lease  is  starting  soon  ,  and  they’ll  all  have  to  learn  how  to  live  with  each  other  even  when  they  have  no  idea  of  who  they’re  gonna  live  with  .  sleeping  under  the  same  roof  as  strangers  can  be  exciting  ,  and    i  wonder  what  will  happen  !

the  group  is  a  semi-appless  ,  small  discord  roleplay  revolving  around  the  residents  of  the  goldcrest  residence  and  their  lives  as  strangers  learning  to  live  together  .

if  you  have  any  questions  ,  concerns  or  suggestions  ,  my  inbox  is  open  !  if  you  want  to  send  your  app  ,  please  use  my  submit  box  .  thank  you  !

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲  :  a  semi-appless  ,  small  and  chem-based  discord  roleplay  with  chill  activity  ,  focused  on  the  lives  of  the  residents  of  the  goldcrest  residence  and  their  interactions  as  ten  strangers  .  it  is  a  safe  environment  &  diversity  is  highly  encouraged  .  template  cred  goes  to  kaori96  on  deviantart  .

#  𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒  .

one  .  basic  roleplaying  etiquette  .  muns  must  be  above  the  age  of  eighteen  and  muses  /  faceclaims  must  be  over  the  age  of  twenty  .  no  godmodding  ,  bubble  rping  ,  ooc  drama  or  discrimination  will  be  tolerated  here  .  since  this  is  a  small  group  ,  everyone  should  be  welcoming  and  treat  members  respectfully  .  should  you  have  any  problems  with  a  particular  mun  ,  please  message  me  privately  .  you  don’t  have  to  be  my  mutual  to  join  ,  but  that’d  be  nice  !

two  .  this  is  a  chem-based  group  focused  on  character  development  so  there  will  be  no  plotting  ahead  required  .  some  sort  of  literacy  is  a  basic  requirement  .  while  you  don’t  have  to  write long  paragraphs  or  use  gifs  ,  paras  are  encouraged  !  

three  .  interest  checks  will  be  held  weekly  to  make  sure  everyone  is  still  interested  in  the  group  .  you  have  twenty- four  hours  to  react  ,  otherwise  you’ll  be  removed  .  if  you  need  a  hiatus  ,  please  let  me  know  and  we  won’t  remove  you  from  the  group  !

four  .   banned  faceclaims  are  those  deceased  ,  who  do  not  wish  to  be  roleplayed  ,  anyone  below  the  age  of  twenty  ,  and  it  includes  :  tiktokers  , the  vlog  squad  ,  kardashians  /  jenners  ,  biebers  ,  kj  apa  ,  cole  sprouse  ,  camila  cabello  ,  ariana  grande  ,  ansel  elgort  ,  ester  exposito  ,  nicola  peltz  ,  gavin  leatherwood  .

five  .  only  one  muse  will  be  allowed  per  mun  and  i’ll  be  carefully  selecting  the  muses  that  vibe  more  with  the  group  .  there  will  be  nine  spots  as  the  tenth  spot  is  mine  .  i’m  looking  for  characters  that  fit  the  house  and  bring  interesting  elements  to  the  group  !  things  like  diversity  and  originality  will  be  taken  into  consideration  .

#  𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  .

(  faceclaim  ,  age  ,  pronouns  )  the  goldcrest  residence  welcomes  you  to  your  new  home  ,   [  FIRST  AND  LAST  NAME  ]  !  here  are  the  keys  to  the  house  and  we  hope  you  have  a  good  time  here  .  we’ve  heard  that  you’re  a  [  AGE  ]  years  old  [  OCCUPATION  ]  from  [  HOMETOWN  ]  ,  is  that  right  ?  you  look  very  [  POSITIVE  TRAIT  ]  ,  but  also  a  little  [  NEGATIVE  TRAIT  ]  ,  and  i  heard  the  reason  you  moved  here  is  that  [  REASON  ]  .  i  wonder  if  that’s  true  !  anyway  ,  go  ahead  and  make  yourself  comfortable  !  (  ooc  name  /  alias  ,  age  ,  pronouns  ,  timezone  ,  tumblr  url  ,  triggers  )

please  answer  at  least  one  of  these  questions  in  character  :

what  do  you  think  are  your  biggest  qualities  and  why  ?

do  you  think  you  are  a  good  roommate  and  why  ?

what  are  three  things  you  can’t  live  without  and  why  ?

#  𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍  (  01  /  10  SPOTS  )  .

faceclaims  :  avan  jogia  .

#  𝐀𝐏𝐏  𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓  (  14  )  .

alissa  violet  as  tessa  kingsley  .

anya  taylor-joy  as  cora  maddon  .

christina  nadin  as  sora  pacaon  .

florence  pugh  as  luciana  ‘  lucky  ’  lombardi  .

froy  gutierrez  as  wolfe  escobar  .

jack  gillinsky  as  isaac  fisch  .

logan  lerman  as  forest  eller  .

maggie  lindemann  as  blair  eller  .

matilda  djerf  as  paxon  lund  .

normani  kordei  as  aaliyah  howell  .

rudy  pankow  as  lee  kilbride  .

sab  zada  as  evangeline  ramos  .

zayn  malik  as  iskander  al-kasiri  .

zoey  deutch  as  arlo  wisniewski  .    

[kurofai-olympics]

KuroFai Olympics 2021 - Sun Vs Moon - FAQ

What are the KuroFai Olympics?

The KuroFai Olympics (or as I usually end up typing, Olympfics) are a friendly team-based writing competition between two teams writing opposing themes of fiction, based around the same set of subthemes or prompts.

This year, it is Team Sun and Team Moon.

Each team will have the same number of competitors, and each competitor will square off against the other team’s competitor using the same prompt, with both posting their fics on the same day as determined by the posting schedule.

Where are the Olympics held?

The home of the Olympics is the KuroFai Dreamwidth community. You can also keep up to date with us on Discord, Twitter and Tumblr. We also have a collection on AO3 and you contact the mods via kurofai.olympics@gmail.com.

Roles within the Olympics

Moderators: a small dedicated group tasked with planning, coordinating and overall, doing what they can to make this year another success.

Writers: wordsmiths ready and willing to write a story where the main focus is about KuroFai, will be either fluffy or angsty, and fits into the subtheme.

Artists: folks with a passion for the visual arts. While each year, we are blessed with an Artist willing to create a header for the year's Olympics (this year, we thank ValdrickV), for the tenth anniversary, there is an additional role for Artists. To create art based around the prompts. This can be done based on one's interpretation of the prompt or in coordination with a Writer.

Betas: A second pair of eyes for a Writer, offering insight, advice and or a grammar check in exchange for an early reading of the story.

Pinchhitters: Brave and generous folks willing to take on the role of Writer should the need arise.

Read and Reviewers: Lovers of KuroFai who participate by reading the posted stories and then afterwards, leaving a Review for the author. Let's face it, Kudos is wonderful, but a review leaves a greater impact.

Scorers: by popular demand, rather than leave a Review with a score, Scorer fill out a brief survey where they score the fic. A form of online presence will be required - no going entirely anonymous allowed.

What are Pinch-hitters?

A stand-by writer, in case someone who signs up with a team has to step down for any reason (life obligations, sick, believe they won't finish on time, etc.) so they will step up to write for the prompt left vacant. If a competitor feels they need to step down, please let a Mod know as soon as possible, and the Mods will then ask a pinch-hitter to take over their prompt. Should you be unreachable for two days after a scheduled check in, a pinch hitter will be called upon to take over.

To give a Pinch-Hitter the most time to write, their posting day will be moved to the last posting day. Should two need to step down, the first Pinch Hitter and their competitor will get the day before the last and the newest Pinch Hitter and their competitor will have the last posting day

Posting Dates?

The posting schedule for the Olympics starts on the 8th of August. Each of our sub themes will be assigned a posting date with the first fics being posted on the 9th of August.

The schedule is prone to change but the mods will ensure that all writers know what date they will post on. If a Pinchitter is called upon their prompt will always move to the end of the schedule.

Time zone for posting?

We are currently considering what Timezone to use. This will be updated once it has been decided.

That said, time zones are an illusion we gave ourselves, so as long as you post within an hour or two of midnight on the day of your posting, you won’t be docked points. If you post after the next competitors’ have started posting for their prompt, however, that late penalty card comes into play.

Checkins?

All writers and artists will be required to checkin with the mods three times during the creating period. These checkins are just to see how you are going and to figure out if the posting dates need to be altered. While participants can reach out to the Mods at any time if issues arise the checkins are just a formalisation of this process.

Can I write a joint fic?

All fics entered in the Olympics must be new, original works written for the appropriate prompt by a single participant. You may ask your teammates/friends/family to help you out with coming up with an idea and you can ask anyone even Mods to beta your fic once it's written, but you have to write it.

Can I reuse an older piece of work?

No, you can't take a draft fic you had prepared earlier and jazz it up for the prompt. (We may not have proof but this is where your honor comes in. Write something new for your honor.)

Fic outlines are acceptable and allowed so long as you have not begun writing fic for it before you receive your prompt.

Length of fic?

There's no minimum or maximum length of entries; if you can tell a story in a thousand words, more power to you, and if it takes you fifty thousand, that's great too. However, a word count of between five thousand to twenty thousand for the length of your fic is generally recommended.

Can I share my work before posting day?

You can share up to 10% of your work as a teaser on various social medias before your posting date. You can of course share your work with your Beta and Team Mates before hand if you like.

Do I have to post my fic on Dreamwidth?

The fic, not necessarily. But you will need to make an entry post on Dreamwidth. That is, a post where you either post under a cut or provide a link to the location where your fic is posted. A template for fic entry posts will be provided closer to the posting date.

How do I post on Dreamwidth?

You will need a Dreamwidth account to post your entry and be a member of the KuroFai Dreamwidth Community. Copy and paste the template provided into a new Dreamwidth post making sure you choose HTML and not Rich text for editing. Also remeber to chose KuroFai community as it is easy to accidentally post it to your own Dreamwidth. Example of last years template post https://kurofai.dreamwidth.org/131379.html

Do I have to submit my fic to the AO3 collection?

While we would love for you to put your fic in the KuroFai Olympics 2020 collection it is not a requirement of the competition. This year collection is 2021_KuroFai_Olympics

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2021_KuroFai_Olympics

What if I can’t write competitively?

There is nothing to prevent you from writing a fic of your own to match the theme or a prompt you really like. We simply ask that you don’t post it during the Week (give or take) that the Teams will be posting theirs.

How can Artists get involved?

This year artist can sign up to do Art for the various prompts. The lovely Valdrick has created our banner art this year. Once prompts have been assigned to the artist there are no restrictions beyond relating to the prompt and KuroFai. Any size, any medium, any colour what ever takes your fancy.

How are fics scored?

By popular demand, this year rather than leave a Review with a score, the reader will be asked to fill out a brief survey which will be linked to at the end of the fic. A form of online presence will be required - no going entirely anonymous allowed for scoring.

Rules for scoring a fic?

Mods will not be allowed to leave a score but can still read and leave a review.

All Writers will be allowed to leave a Score EXCEPT on their fic and the corresponding fic from the other team.

Betas, Artists and others who aided in the Olympics and are not Writers or Mods are free to Score any fic.

People from across the fandom are free to Score any fic but will be required to leave a form of contact in the scoring survey.

The Scorecard

With 1 being the very worst and 10 being the very best, how well do you think this story did?

1. How well did this fic fit the prompt?

2. How well written was the fic?

3. How much did you enjoy the fic?

And please answer Yes/No

4. Was this fic tagged properly?

Questions 1-3 will have a maximum of 30 points available (and when you divide that by 3, you could get a solid 10 Pointer)

Regarding 4, if the Yes outweigh the No, then +2 Points. If the No outweigh the Yes than -2 Points.

Penalty Card

If the Penalty Card had to come in for Late and or Unfinished, then those Points will be taken out when we do the scoring.

No Story Posted: While this has happened due to unfortunate circumstance, it does result in a total loss of points. A zero for that story.

Late but Complete Fic: 1 Point Docked.

Incomplete Story Posted: 1-2 Points docked from that story.

Not Tagged Properly: 2 Points.

Not Tagged Properly?

Because of the sensitivity of subjects, all of these subjects MUST be clearly warned about should they appear in your story. At the bottom of the story under the cut is not clearly warned about.

Non-Con, Sexual violence, Dub-con, Underage, Sexual Kinks, Omega verse, Graphic Violence, Self Harm, Suicide or Suicidal thoughts.

Things like Language, Drug Use, Implied (sensitive subject), etc. are not required but are welcome to make the story that much more reader-friendly.

While not mandatory, stories featuring material from the events after Acid Tokyo, AU or Canon based, have a new tag available to them. It’s called NSFN (Not Safe for Nick/Newbies) and will make this even more reader-friendly.

Failure to comply with the Must be warned about rule results in a 2 Point loss for that story.

[captainscanadian]

I posted 446 times in 2021

100 posts created (22%)

346 posts reblogged (78%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.5 posts.

I added 347 tags in 2021

#i love you naynay - 66 posts

#comment reblog - 61 posts

#aj reads - 43 posts

#timezone reblog - 29 posts

#bucky barnes x reader - 28 posts

#aj writes - 27 posts

#malia my love - 24 posts

#bucky barnes x you - 23 posts

#bucky barnes fanfic - 23 posts

#bucky barnes x y/n - 23 posts

Longest Tag: 113 characters

#idk who looks hotter... peggy when she's beating his ass or jack when he's getting beat up by that gorgeous woman

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Bucky in Paris | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Drabble)

MY MASTERLIST

Request: Hiii! So how does CEO!bucky(or one of your other workaholics) make up for not being able to be qith you on your anniversary? Love you!!  

Word Count: 424

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: I’ve decided to write some short things so here it goes. Requested by my dearest @dramadreamer14​!

It was a last minute business trip to Paris that had forced Bucky to leave town the night before your anniversary. As the company was in desperate need to sign a major investment deal, he had no choice but to fly across the pond and oversee the deal himself. The board had trusted him with the job, and he couldn’t necessarily say no or reschedule the trip for another date. Time was money in the corporate world, after all. 

Needless to say, he had spent his entire plane ride feeling awful that he couldn’t be with you on your tenth anniversary. Despite being one of the busiest men in the world, he had never missed an anniversary before. But even when he wasn’t there, he made sure that his presence was still there. Perhaps, he had his secretary to thank for that. 

You were woken up with breakfast in bed, homemade crepes to remind you of the crepe station you’d had at your wedding. As you got dressed and ascended down the stairs, a string quartet was playing your wedding song while the living room floor was filled with multiple bouquets of red roses and bags from Dior, Chanel, and Louis Vuitton. You’d never been into material things, and Bucky knew that. But he had also hoped that you would accept these gifts, as you had no choice. He wasn’t there for you to yell at him about how much he had spoiled you.

When you got into the office, there were more flowers. You had barely gotten through the day when your best friend arrived to take you to lunch, reservations already made at the Russian Tea Room where Bucky had proposed to you. While it sucked that he wasn’t there with you, the entire day had been spent reliving the memories of your relationship. You couldn’t complain. 

It wasn’t until later in the evening when Bucky had finally called you; his assistant had already informed you that the deal had been closed and that he was getting on the next flight back to New York. You knew that there was twice the reason to celebrate once he got back. Needless to say, he had used the opportunity of being back in Paris to track down the pastry chef who had catered for your wedding at the Four Seasons Hotel George V, just so that he could fly him out to New York to cater your anniversary party that following week. The macarons had been the highlight of your wedding night, after all.

111 notes • Posted 2021-02-03 06:05:02 GMT

#4

The Anatomy of Love - Masterlist

Hospital AU Series for @tinymalscoffee​‘s 400 Follower Writing Challenge

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Reader

Summary: Dr. Y/N Y/L/N needs a lesson in the anatomy of love, and Dr. James Barnes seems to be the one for the job. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Banner Credit: @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend​​

THIS SERIES IS NOT COMPLETE!

114 notes • Posted 2021-04-12 00:40:22 GMT

#3

Sanguis Sanguinis Mei - Masterlist

In Collaboration with @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend​! 

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Vampire!Reader

Summary: It took Bucky Barnes two centuries with the blood of his blood to realize how much he loved her. This is their story. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Banner Credit: @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend​

THIS SERIES IS COMPLETE! 

121 notes • Posted 2021-10-02 02:06:58 GMT

#2

Never Changing | Nate Archibald x Reader (Prologue)

MY MASTERLIST

Series Masterlist

Summary: Never change, you’d both said. Never change, you’d both did. 

Word Count: 2600+

Pairing: Nate Archibald x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Gossip Girl References, Drugs, Addiction, Bullying

A/N: In honour of that Gossip Girl reboot, I decided that now’s a good time to write a fic for my beloved Golden Boy. If you’re someone who misses the OG Gossip Girl series as much as I do right now, then this fic is definitely for you. Divider made by @whimsicalrogers​ <3

Hey Upper East Siders, 

Gossip Girl here, and I have the saddest news ever. 

Now that the Captain fled town, it seems that our Golden Boy and his mother have found themselves in yet another dilemma. A source tells me that the Archibalds’ assets have been frozen, and that they are letting go of their help because they can no longer afford to pay them. 

As unfortunate as it is, it seems that the worst part of it all was that our beloved Lonely Girl will be leaving Constance for good. We had some high hopes for the daughter of the Archibalds’ maid, but it seems that Y/N Y/L/N’s ‘rags to riches’ story has come to an end before it even began. 

You know you love me…. 

XOXO Gossip Girl.

Having grown up among Manhattan’s elite in the Upper East Side, scandal was not something that was entirely foreign to Nate Archibald. Being Blair Waldorf’s boyfriend for over a year had certainly caused him to be at the center of attention at times, and Serena’s recent return from boarding school had surely added to that. 

But when it was his own family that was in the center of the scandal this time, it was not as easy as it once had been for him. Unlike most of the kids in the Upper East Side, Nate’s relationship with his father had been wonderful, at least until he had found out about what he had done.

From the moment Nate had come to know that the Captain had drained his trust funds to when he had found his stash of cocaine, he had been worried. But he had also been willing to take the fall for him, for the sake of his father’s reputation, at least. And for what? 

The Captain had fled the country amid a drug trial, and several of the country’s media outlets were scrutinizing his family for all they were worth. The feds had taken the man leaving town to as admission of guilt and frozen their bank accounts to make restitution. Now that he and his mother were quite literally broke, all that was left was a tarnished reputation and a strong hatred that he was now feeling towards his father. 

Needless to say, with all of the scandal that was surrounding his family at that moment, he had assumed that most of the Upper East Side would choose to steer away from them. To be proven right was not the most thrilling part of this whole experience. He was hurting, not just because of what had happened with his father, but also because he was missing his two best friends at this time. 

Ever since he had found out about Chuck and Blair’s affair, Nate had distanced himself from the two of them. Feeling betrayed by the way the two of them had gone behind his back, he had instead focused most of his energy on getting his father out of trouble. 

But now, he found himself feeling rather alone. He had no one to lean on at this time, not his friends and certainly not the woman who had raised him. 

Nate had been barely a year old when your mother had come to work for the Archibald family, having been let go by her previous employers because she had gotten pregnant with you. He did not know most of the details behind that, not that it mattered to him anyways. Thankfully, Anne Archibald had been kind enough to hire your mother, and they had offered to let her work for the family as a nanny and housekeeper. 

Due to your mother’s kindness towards their son and their desperation to keep her around for as long as they could, the Archibalds had offered to sponsor you to attend the finest prep schools in Manhattan along with him. It was an incentive that they offered her when they had first hired her, and your mother could not turn down the opportunity to have you attend such a prestigious school in Manhattan, even if she did not understand that you could never fit in with the bunch at Constance Billard. 

Despite the fact that you had known each other your whole lives, Nate had always acted like he could care less about you. Surely, being the daughter of his beloved nanny should have caused him to have some sort of soft spot for you, right? Except, he had feared being judged by his elite friends to ever show you or anyone else how he truly felt about you. 

You were no different either. Over the years, even you had managed to suppress the slight crush that you had on Nate after learning how ruthless the Upper East Siders could really be. As it turned out, the Nate you knew at home was the complete opposite of the Nate you knew at school. He and his friends were certainly not the nicest people you had met, and you had steered away from him whenever you ran into him at school. 

Life as a scholarship student at Constance Billard School for Girls has been quite miserable for you. It was a life that was filled with constant bullying, mostly by Blair Waldorf and her minions, and a life that made you realize that you could never fit into the world in which you hadn’t been born into. 

The only friend you had at that school was Dan Humphrey, given that you were both treated as the outsiders at your school. But now that he was dating Serena van der Woodsen, you barely ever saw him these days. 

Lonely Girl, how fitting was that nickname. 

Thankfully for you, you were no longer a part of the world in which you never felt like you had truly belonged. The Archibalds had let go of your mother, and pulled your tuition from Constance; they could no longer afford to pay for it with their accounts being frozen. You were finally leaving the Upper East Side, hoping to find yourself a place in a world where you did feel like you belonged. 

Upon your mother’s insistence, the two of you had headed to the Archibalds’ townhouse to bid farewell to her former employers. Frankly speaking, you could care less about saying goodbye; they were horrible people, and no amount of kindness that they offered you or your mother could change that. 

But according to your mother, the child she had raised would always remain a ‘golden boy.’ She had that much faith in him. 

“I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, Mr. Nate.” Your mother sighed as she pulled him into an embrace. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m really sorry… about everything.” Nate returned her hug with a frown, his eyes glazing over at the thought of not having her around anymore. “I wish there was something I could have done for you and Y/N, but the feds have taken all of our belongings to be sold in an auction. Mom says we’re broke, and we have no idea how we’re going to handle any of this.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Nate. The money doesn’t matter to me. You and your parents have done so much for us already, and… I guess I knew that I couldn’t be around forever, you know. I had to let you go on your own at some point.��� She remarked with a sad smile, pulling back from the hug to get a look of him. “Your father thought that it would be when you went off to Dartmouth, but I guess the time is now.”

“Yeah, I doubt that Dartmouth’s ever going to happen now.” He admitted with a sigh, not that he cared much about attending college. He had only agreed to Dartmouth because of his father’s insistence. 

Your mother nodded. “You’ve grown up so much, Mr. Nate… and I know that you’ll get your family out of this  trouble somehow. Whether you end up going to Dartmouth or not, I’m sure you’ll make them proud. You’re a good kid, Mr. Nate, never change.” 

“I’m glad you said that.” He smiled as he looked down at her. “Thank you for taking care of me for all these years. I’ll never forget you.”

“I’ll never forget you either.”

As you stood aside and watched this rather dramatic goodbye between the two of them, you could not help but roll your eyes. 

You had tried reasoning with your mother that Nate Archibald, his parents and the rest of the Upper East Side could care less about her or the way she had worked her butt off for all these years. Hell, the reason why she was let go was because Howard Archibald had landed himself in legal trouble. What made her think that they were nice people to begin with? 

But she had insisted that you could not hold Nate accountable for the mistakes that were made by his parents, and claimed that doubting him would mean that you were doubting her parenting skills. 

That was the only reason why you had agreed to seeing the Archibalds one last time, because she still cared tremendously about the guy who could not care about you or your feelings. 

“Ma, it’s getting late.” You spoke up, intentionally ruining that sweet moment between the two of them. “We wouldn’t want to miss our bus.” 

“Oh yeah, let me just go and say bye to Miss Anne.” Your mother stated before she rushed out of the room to find Nate’s mother, leaving you alone with him. 

“Bus? Where are you both headed?” Nate asked as he turned over to look at you, noticing the hostility in your face but choosing to ignore it anyways. He knew that you hated him for the way he had stood by while his friends treated you like crap, so he understood if you wanted nothing to do with him at all… except, that was not true. 

“Boston.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders. “Ma says we’ve got family there, so we decided that it would be best for us to move there. It’ll be a lot easier when I go to college, you know.” 

“Right.” He nodded, making his way over to you with a rather nervous smile. “I’ll miss you, Y/N.” He stated, honestly. 

“Would you really?” You could not help but ask him with a raised eyebrow. “If anything, I’ve always thought that you could care less about me.”

The moment those words escaped your lips, Nate stood there with his head held low. A rather embarrassed sigh escaped his lips as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Y/N, look… I’m really sorry about everything I did… or didn’t do. It wasn’t fair to you. I should have been there for you, and I wasn’t. I was a terrible person, and I know that now.” 

Truth be told, the way most of the Upper East Side was treating his family had made him realize how hard it must have been for you to be treated that way by his friends. Now that he had experienced how it felt to be shunned by everyone he knew, he understood that it was not fair for you to have endured all of that bullying at the hand of Blair, and even Chuck. 

He should have let go of his pride and stood up for you against them both, but he hadn’t done that. He was ashamed of that now. 

You could see it in his eyes that he was being sincere, and you knew that it was best not to hold any grudges against him for the way he had treated you in the past. It was bad enough that his family was now being scrutinized by the world, so you might as well just forgive him. What did you have to lose, really?

“Thank you, Nate.” You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I’m sorry too. Your father was kind to my mother and I, and I hate that he’s going through all of this right now. It’s not fair to you either.” 

While you did not know of the details regarding Howard Achibald’s cocaine addiction and the issues that followed, you understood the social rules of the Upper East Side well enough by now to know that Nate and his mother had a lot to face. 

As much as you hated the snobbish and entitled nature of Manhattan’s elite, this kind of scrutiny was not something that you would even wish on your worst enemies, let alone Nate Archibald. 

“Yeah… well, he brought this upon himself.” He pointed out with a sigh. “And to think that he had no problem just running away like that, just leaving my mom and I to clean up his mess.” 

You bit down on your bottom lip rather awkwardly, not knowing what you could say that would make any of this easier for him. “There’s nothing you could have done, Nate. I know that… I know that I could never understand any of these… Upper East Side problems or anything like that. But there’s one thing that I know for sure, and it’s that… you’ll get through this.” You reassured him, offering him a small smile. “Just hang in there, Nate.”

“You sound just like your mother.” He noted, chuckling softly. 

“Well, I am her daughter, after all…” 

“Yeah, you are…” He agreed, looking into your eyes for a moment. “You’re… nothing like us, nothing like anyone in the Upper East Side.”

This was probably the first time he had ever said something nice about you, and unfortunately, it would also be the last time he did. At least, for a while, but neither of you knew that now. 

You could not help but chuckle softly at his words. “You know, for the longest time, I believed that… being nothing like any of you meant that I wasn’t… good enough for you.” You admitted, looking down to avoid making eye contact with him as you felt your cheeks heat up. “I liked you, Nate. I liked you a lot. But... I thought I could never be good enough for you, because I’m not like Blair or Serena.” 

Needless to say, Nate was rather taken aback by your confession. But at that moment, he had to admit that he understood how you must have felt. After all, now he was the one who was not good enough for you. “If anything, I’d say it’s the other way around.” He admitted. “I’m the one who’s not good enough for you. I’m the one who watched others bully you and did nothing about it. I’m the guy who always acted like I never cared about you. I’m the guy who’s father is currently on the run from the law. I’m not good enough for you, Y/N.” 

Another sigh escaped your lips upon hearing his words, and you found yourself stepping closer towards him. “Never change, Nate Archibald.” You repeated your mother’s words, leaning over to press your lips against his rather quickly. 

Nate jumped slightly as you kissed him, though he did not pull away by any means. 

But you did, knowing that this moment between the two of you was not meant to last any longer. “I had to do that at least once before I left.” You noted, chuckling softly. “I might not get to do it again.” 

“Y/N, let’s go!” Your mother called out to you, and you looked over at Nate. 

“Never change, Y/N Y/L/N.” 

While those were the last words he had said to you before you had left the Upper East Side for good, both of you were never changing, no matter how much time had passed and how much farther life had taken you. 

134 notes • Posted 2021-07-08 23:21:14 GMT

#1

Subtle Confession | Bucky Barnes x Reader

My Masterlist

Prompt: “A little cuddling won’t kill you, I promise.”

Word Count: 450+

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Exam Stress (mentioned)

A/N: Inspired by You Are In Love by Taylor Swift. Requested by @dramadreamer14 <3 Divider by @whimsicalrogers​!

JOIN MY 2K FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

“A little cuddling won’t kill you, I promise.” Bucky Barnes whined as he wrapped his arms gently around you, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand before he moved a strand of your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. “Please?”

You could feel your cheeks heat up as you looked over at him, and you could not help but give in to his request. “Fine, but only for a few minutes. I really don’t want us to be late for class.” You reminded him. 

After all, it was Monday, and the excitement of your first weekend spent together was long gone. 

“It’s like a two minute shuttle ride from my front door to the main campus. We’ll be fine.” He reassured you, chuckling softly. 

Having gone on a few dates since the start of the semester, you had finally spent the night at Bucky’s apartment. Of course, you had spent many sleepless nights with him while you were both studying together for your finals. Usually, those nights were also spent in the midst of your shared group of friends. 

But last night was quite different, as it was the first time the two of you had spent the night alone in his apartment, without the overwhelming exam stress and the company of your friends. It was just you and Bucky, laying in each other’s arms as the sun rose above New York City. 

It was quite calming to just lay in his arms for a moment, not worrying about making it to your philosophy lecture that morning, or about the chemistry assignment that was due by the end of that week. Instead you just rested your head against his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment, taking in his scent as you inhaled a tired breath. 

“I love you.” Bucky whispered into your ear, as unexpected as it was, and it caused you to open your eyes and look up at him in surprise. 

Even though it was the first time he had said those three words to you, it seemed as if his lips had been longing to say them for several months now. But he knew that he had to say it now; it felt right. 

There was a small smile that crept upon your lips as you looked up at him, and you reached over to stroke his stubbly cheek. “I love you too, Bucky.” You told him, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips. 

As it turns out, this subtle confession of your true feelings was all it took for the two of you to realize that you would be spending the rest of your lives together.

151 notes • Posted 2021-08-10 21:40:40 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[remywrites5]

Taking Care

For @casualmaraudering who was feeling a bit sad tonight (tomorrow? Damn timezones!) Just something short and sweet! Hope you like it!! 

***

  Sirius paced the length of his bedroom as he waited for the Facetime to connect. Every time it rang without Remus picking up it set his teeth on edge. He just wanted to talk to his boyfriend and he didn’t know what he would do if Remus didn’t answer.

           Finally after about the tenth ring Remus picked up. “Sirius?” he said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “What’s going on? It’s like two in the morning.”

           “I can’t do this, Moony,” Sirius said, shaking his head as he positioned the phone at an angle that was the most flattering. Even though it was late and Remus was sleep deprived it was no excuse not to look good for him.

           Remus rolled his eyes knowingly. “Can’t do what?”

           “It’s still another month before I get to see you. I was looking at the calendar on my phone and I realized how long it would be before we see each other again. That’s too far away, I’m not going to make it.”

           Remus sighed and scrubbed his hand down his face. He turned on his bedside light and put on his glasses. “Sirius, I love you, but I also have a class in six hours.”

           “I’m sorry,” Sirius said, feeling pathetic and needy, the way he always did when he had to go long stretches without seeing Remus. They hadn’t been together since Christmas break. “I know, I’m sorry.”

           Remus flopped down back onto his pillows, holding his phone up with his arm outstretched, quickly fixing his hair so it fell in a pleasing way on the pillow. “Tell me what you need.”

           Sirius let out a whine. “I need you here but I can’t have that so I don’t know.”

           “Is James around to give you a cuddle?”

           Sirius shook his head. “He went to bed hours ago. And if I wake him up he will hurt me unlike you who will just threaten it.”

           Remus chuckled softly. “Want me to read to you?”

           Sirius nodded and snuggled under the covers on his side, holding his phone on the pillow next to his as if Remus were in bed with him. Having Remus read him stories was one of his favorite things. He’d never really been read stories as a kid so having Remus read to him felt kind of novel. It made him feel warm and whole, like a part of him that had been missing was getting filled up.

           Remus waited for Sirius to get settled and then grabbed his copy of Pride and Prejudice. He picked up where he had left off the last time Sirius had called him being dramatic and unable to sleep.

           Sirius pulled the duvet up to his chin and let his eyes slip shut, the calming voice of his boyfriend washing over him. He let out a happy sigh as Remus spoke of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. As much as Sirius wanted to stay awake and continue listening to Remus read to him, he was quickly drifting off to Remus’ soothing tone.

                                                           ***

           Two days later Sirius received a care package in the mail from Remus. He knew Remus didn’t have much in the way of money, being a poor Uni student like Sirius, but most of the gifts were homemade anyway. It made them all the more special.

           Remus had knitted Sirius a black and grey scarf because he was always chiding Sirius for going out in the winter in just his leather jacket. There was a homemade picture frame that was covered in candy hearts that said things like “be mine.” Inside was a picture of Sirius and Remus together the last time Sirius had visited Remus in Ireland, the two of them on the stairs of Skellig Michael. There was also a bunch of chocolate, a box of tissues, and a little jar filled with notes.

           Confused, Sirius pulled out the jar and grabbed the letter Remus had put in the box for him.

           Hi love,

You seemed like you were having a rough time of it, so I thought I would send you something to cheer you up. I hope they do the trick and if they don’t you better not tell me or it’ll crush my spirit. I feel like most of the stuff is self-explanatory but you’ve probably noticed a jar filled with notes. Inside are some things I’ve written out for you, quotes and thoughts and such. Whenever you’re feeling down I want you to reach into the jar and read one of the notes. If it doesn’t work then you know you can always reach out to me. I’m here even if I’m not with you.

           I love you,

           Remus

           Sirius felt his eyes start to well up with tears as he twisted the top off the jar and pulled a random note out in hopes that it would help. Even though he was sad he felt so full of love that he thought he might burst.

           Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. – Oscar Wilde

           Sirius pulled out his phone and immediately called Remus on Facetime. Remus picked up after only one ring and was already smiling. “I had a feeling you might call me today. I got a notification that my package had been delivered.”

           Sirius laughed and wiped the tears from his eyes. “You’re wonderful.”

           Remus blushed and played nervously with one of his curls. He always did that when he was nervous because Sirius’ adorable Moony didn’t know how to take compliments. He was wearing an oversized jumper that Sirius just wanted to crawl into and never leave. “So you like it then? Why are you crying?”

           “Because you love me.”

           “I don’t think that’s supposed to make you sad, Pads.”

           “It makes me sad because all I want to do right now is kiss you but I can’t because you have the audacity to live far away.”

           Remus snorted and tugged again on his curl, driving Sirius absolutely wild. “I was worried it might have been too…soppy.”

           “Not at all,” Sirius assured him. “It was just what I needed. How did you know?”

           Remus bit his bottom lip and then grinned. “Because I know you and I know how you get. And it sucks that I’m not there to make you feel better when you’re feeling rotten, but I figured I could at least help a little. I know it’s probably not enough.”

           “Of course it’s not,” Sirius said, sighing wistfully. “Nothing but the actual you will ever be enough. But I think this will get me through the next month until I see you again.”

           “I really love you, you know?”

           Sirius beamed at him. “Yeah, I know.”

           “This is where you say it back, you dick.”

           Sirius laughed. “I love you more than anything, Moony.”

           “Good,” Remus said, giving a nod of approval. “My birthday will be here before you know it and then you’ll be here with me.”

           “I know it’s your birthday and I should be focused on you, but I will require quite a lot of cuddling,” Sirius informed him, sliding his fingers through his hair in the way he knew Remus liked.

           Remus licked his lips. “Oh?”

           “And kissing.” Sirius shot him a cheeky wink. He watched Remus’ gaze drop down to his lips for a moment. He dragged his teeth across them seductively and then laughed when he saw Remus blush bright red.

           “I think I can handle that,” Remus told him, smiling shyly. “Only twenty-nine more days.”

           Sirius blew Remus a kiss. “I can hardly wait.”

[charlotteu]

⟨ JENNIE KIM. CISFEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, CHARLOTTE TAN is actually a descendent of H E P H A E S T U S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-THREE year old CIVIL ENGINEERING MAJOR from SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite PRECISE & TENSE. 

TRIGGER WARNING : death, specifically child birth death

hi i’m dana! i’m ninteen and i never fuckin learned how to read! i’m in cst timezone and i really immensely love pjo, i’ve been reading the book series since fifth grade so i’m really pumped to be here! i’m sorry if my activity is spotty over this weekend, my brain has decided to tell me to do anything and everything Right Now :) anyways

full name :

charlotte chunhwa tam

nicknames / aliases :

lottie, char, chunhwa, lola, lam / little lam

major :

civil engineering

sports :

rugby and volleyball

sexuality :

lesbian

gender idenitity / pronouns :

cis - female / she/her

age / birthday :

twenty - three, december tenth, nineteen - ninety - seven

zodiac :

sagittarius

powers : 

sensing faults in metal ores and technokenesis. / charlotte has the potential for her technokenesis powers to become stronger, she just needs someone to help her work more in depth with them. sensing faults in metal ores is the stronger of her two talents, but she thinks of this particular power more as an intuition thing versus a full “power.” she is definitely … not naturally talented when it comes to this area of her life, it’s something that she’s been trying to work on since going into college. she is prone to being easily discouraged by failure when it comes to trying to grow her powers, but that’s a trait she’s trying to work on.

personality :

charlotte is known to find literal scraps of anything and manage to make something gorgeous from it - whether it’s food, metal scraps, or a nearly - ruined picnic table - it’s a skill that she takes great pride in. she constantly tries to bring her loved ones together in one form or another, which results in quite a lot of last - minute plans and “family dinners.” because of these two traits, if someone just happened to forget to plan a birthday party or a baby shower and needed it thrown together within a day or two (maybe that is on her bucket list, maybe not,) charlotte is your perfect person. regardless of this, charlotte is still considered that friend that never has their life together and has an extensional crises every few weeks.

when it comes to school work, charlotte is perfectly organized. a well - planned and well - filled out academic calendar is always in her backpack and she has a few dozen notifications on both her phone and her laptop to remind her of class assignments. she is well - known at the tutoring center for her near constant sessions to ensure to that she is totally, a hundred percent getting the assignment. her math classes is where she thrives, and she has a record of taking several math classes during the summertime to further her knowledge.

myers - briggs :

entp 

vice :

temperance

virtue :

distrusting

hobbies :

gardening, poetry, welding, drawing, sculpting, learning about technological advances, running, and yoga

backstory :

      born in seoul, south korea to miss. tam, she had been visiting her parents when charlotte was born prematurely. ( there had been a complication in the birth that no one’s ever explained to charlotte, she just knows that her mom was alive long enough to hold her daughter for the first & the last time. ) legend has it it was silent in the hospital when the news broke, a rage washing through the family as they realize the expense that they had to pay for their grandchild. it’s her uncle that steps forward to take the child - a comfortable life in the epirus region of greece is what awaited the new family unit.

      life as a bachelor to the life as a single father was one that he greatly struggled with, but one he did not give up on. he always did his best to involve both the local culture along with charlotte’s heritage into her life - this involved food from both regions, learning greek and korean, participating in their holidays, etc. etc. no one could deny how happy the pair were, and how well it was going.

      when she turns twelve, she starts to develop ... slightly unusual powers that always came as a shock, especially considering how randomly occurring the episodes were. both charlotte and her uncle chalk it up to a weird sense of intuition before it starts to happen too much. ( her uncle doesn’t tell her how he found out her godly origin story. ) it’s a cloudy day when he sits her down & explains everything to her, drawing out the rest of her life until she goes to college. a life hidden away from everyone around her, a home school academic career that takes place while the two of them travel around the world. there’s a hidden element of paranoia as her uncle constantly moves them around & forces her to focus on her studies.

      this quiet life sealed away from the outside world leaves her doing whatever she can to keep busy. building whatever she can, trying to stay as occupied as much as she can. it results in a suitcase full of little trinkets by the time she’s six months into home schooling. the next few years of her life pass her by in a terrible haze as she does everything she can to catch up to the life that has been set out for her. her life begins to slow down when she gets into college, a safe haven where she can finally let go of the anxiety  that comes with the expectations.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Across Seven Seas

Chapter 3

Description: This fanfiction series is set in the year 2022, after the horrid COVID-19 has finally come to an end. In this fanfiction, Chris Evans holidays with his family in India and meets Meera Shankar. The story explores their rollercoaster journey and raises a question, whether two people, from two contrasting backgrounds and cultures, can build their future together?

This series is Chris Evans x OFC with Chris Evans' family and friends having recurring appearances. Please find below a lot of Original Characters-

Meera Shankar - The female lead

Meera's Mother

Poppy - Meera's maternal grandmother

Rohan - Meera's elder brother who is 6 years older than her.

Ankur - Concierge of the Hotel Maple-Fawn in Mussoorie

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2

Chapter 4

FIND MORE CHAPTERS BY CLICKING ON MY BIO

P.S- India follows only one timezone.

P.P.S- All the photographs used in the chapters are of the real locations mentioned. I clicked these photographs on my vacation.

This is a work of fiction. The names of the hotels and companies have been changed to avoid copyright issues. Meera Shankar and her family is based on the author and her kin. No offense is intended.

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Chapter 3

6th September, 7:30am - Dehradun Hotel, India

Meera barely noticed the morning chatter at the breakfast table, the voices becoming dull thuds in her mind. As she dozed off for the tenth time, her mother snapped. "You just woke up Meera! How can you still be sleepy? People in the mornings are usually active, bright-eyed and alert! Yet here you are going back to sleep." "Who said I slept last night?" spoke Meera, unsuccessfully trying to stifle her yawn, "With you and Poppy snoring into my ears, I could hardly sleep." "We don't snore that bad," said her mother, defensively. "Have you ever hear... (yawn) Have you ever even heard yourself snore?" replied a sleepy Meera. "I slept peacefully in my room. Just like a baby," Rohan chimed in with a smug smile. Her sleep deprived brain could not think of a clever repertoire. At least she would fall asleep on the ride to Mussoorie, hopefully avoiding the nasty motion sickness.

6th September, 9:15am - Delhi, India

🎶tring, tring, tring, tring🎶

Chris heard the faint chime of the landline in his room. Struggling to find it in the darkness, Chris finally answered the call. The receptionist on the other end of the line was kind. She patiently reminded him about the wake-up call that had been scheduled by him and informed him about the buffet breakfast. The Evans family had reached the fancy hotel in the wee hours of the morning. It had been a relief to exit the Delhi airport sans the company of the media. Jet-lagged and exhausted, they had all collapsed into their beds. Even Chris had fallen asleep as soon as his head had touched the pillow. He now stretched on the bed, missing the warmth of his adorable canine. He knew the best way to deal with jet-lag was to condition your body to the local timezone. After freshening up, he headed towards the buffet, seeking to eat his breakfast in peace.

As there were no direct flights from Boston to Dehradun, they had decided to stay for a day in Delhi, just to rest their bones. Tomorrow, they would catch the flight to Dehradun. As Chris understood, their hotel in Mussoorie was around 6 hours away from Dehradun airport. He did not look forward to the excessive travel. He knew they would all be tired out for a week before they started feeling normal again.

He was soon joined by his family for breakfast. A large family of 7 Americans was not an unusual sight for the patrons of this hotel. Being one of the most luxurious and expensive hotels in the city, tourists from across the world flocked to the 5-star property. The best part? Nobody recognized them, especially Chris. While Chris did have a huge fan following in India, he was not immediately recognisable with his large beard and overgrown hair.

"Do we have anything planned for today?" Chris confirmed with Carly as she demolished her pancakes, "Not really. The hotel did offer a tour of the local tourist hotspots, but I didn't think anyone would be up for a day out." "Especially in this heat," chimed in Shanna. "From what I Google searched, Delhi has beautiful forts and structures. There are even expansive gardens in the city! Maybe we can visit just one site before leaving tomorrow?" suggested their mother Lisa. "I will check with the concierge and see what they recommend," offered Scott.

Chris settled back in his room after the breakfast, checking-in with Tara about Dodger. He dozed off while waiting for a reply.

Same day, 11:40pm - Dehradun-Mussoorie road

Meera woke up with a jerk as the car pulled around a corner, her heart beating fast. They were on the last portion of the winding roads, almost at the top of the hill. Dazed, she looked around the SUV, her mother and brother were wide awake and Poppy had nodded off. From the window, Meera saw the mountains and trees in all their glory, but the motion of the car lulled her exhausted mind back to sleep.

Almost 20 minutes later, she woke up again as her mother gently taped her on the shoulder. "We have reached," she quietly said, "Are you feeling okay?" Blinking her eyes, Meera managed to say yes. Chilly breeze greeted her as she opened the door of the car. Audibly shuddering, she shut the door, reluctant to leave the warm vehicle. Her brother pulled it open again, "Wake up sleepy head! Look how beautiful it is!" "It is COLD," replied Meera hoarsely, still struggling to find her bearings. "Okay look, it is just 10 steps from the car to the hotel's entrance. Just 10 steps! Then you will be in nice toasty-warm lobby. Let's go! The hills are calling us! Let's go let's go!!" Meera smiled at her brother's exuberance. Mountains had the same effect on him that beaches had on her. Bracing herself for the cold, Meera dashed from the car and into the hotel.

Maple-Fawn was one of the few 5-star hotels in Mussoorie. The international company had a chain of hotels in the country, but their property at this hill-station had been voted as one of the bests. The lobby section was intimidating to say the least. White marble flooring, polished wood-panelled walls, and elegant paintings and statues gave a sophisticated, warm vibe. As the family was checking-in, the male concierge asked for Meera, "Welcome to Maple-Fawn everyone. Do we have a Mrs Meera Shankar amongst us?" "It is Ms Meera Shankar, and that would be me," she replied. "Hello ma'am. I am Ankur, the resident concierge of this property. As I am led to believe, you are the one with the food allergies, correct?" "Yes absolutely." "We received your email ma'am, the one with the list of foods you are allergic to, and a couple of recipes which would suit you. Can we discuss it once you are settled-in?" "Oh right yes. How about we meet again after one hour?" "Sure ma'am. I will meet you with the chef in your room," confirmed Ankur.

The receptionist handed them the key cards to their rooms. "As I can see in the system, you have booked two rooms, with the 3 women living in one room and Mr Rohan living in another. Would you like to have a single bed mattress in your room ma'am? It would be more comfortable," suggested the receptionist. As her mother refused after hearing the cost for the extra mattress, Meera had to chuckle. Even the receptionist must have wondered how will 3 fat women fit on a queen-sized bed, she thought.

"Why should we spend so much money on a mattress when we call all sleep together on the same bed?" argued Meera's mother as they reached their rooms, "We have already spent so much on this expensive hotel, I am certainly not paying for anything extra." Meera's face fell as she heard those words. It had been difficult to find a hotel which would cater to her food allergies. While various brands offered food for people who were strictly vegetarian or vegan, the hotel staff, usually the chefs, could never wrap their minds around how could a person be allergic to so many things. Luckily, Maple-Fawn had been accommodating, but being on the upper-end luxurious side of things, the stay at the hotel itself had costed them around 4 months of Rohan's salary. "I will get to snuggle-up to my daughter on the same bed and sleep. I can't wait!" continued Meera's mother. "Creep," muttered Meera.

But despite herself, Meera had to admit, the view from their room was to die for...

Same day, 3pm - Delhi

Chris awoke to someone ringing the doorbell of his room. Stumbling across the room in the darkness, he opened the door to see Carly. "Hey Chris, we are going to Rori gardens, do you want to tag along?" "What? Which gardens?" "Rori, or something like that. I don't understand most of the names here," sheepishly admitted Carly. "Should I show you the brochure?" Nodding his reply, Chris stepped aside to let Carly in. "Oh God, it is dark in here, let there be light!" "No wait sto..." But before Chris could finish his sentence, Carly had opened the curtains, flooding the room with bright sunlight. "Aargh" Chris groaned at the sudden light, hidding under the covers on his bed. Laughing, Carly tried to pull the covers off of him, but Chris held on tight. "C'mon you big baby! You are worse than your niece and nephews! Even they are playing in the swimming pool and here you are, hiding underneath the covers!" "It's too bright! Turn down the sun!" Chris whined. "No way! Get up now! See this garden looks like fun. Don't stay held up in your room." Chris muttered something. "Christopher Evans, come out now or else I WILL tickle you!" Carly threatened. Uncovering his head, Chris opened one eye, "What do you want, you Kraken monster?!" Carly smiled, it had been too long since Chris had called her by the nickname. A change of location was maybe just what he needed afterall.

Chris met Carly, Scott and Lisa in the lobby, Shanna choosing to stay behind with the kids. Their hotel, Maple-Fawn, had provided them with a guide and comfortable cars. If Chris wasn't mistaken, they were going to stay at the brand's property in Mussoorie as well. "What is the name of the garden again?" Chris asked their Guide. "They are called Lodhi Gardens," came the prompt reply. "It is spread over 90 acres and contains some of the best landscaping seen here in Delhi. The garden is also home to tombs of various kings who had once ruled Delhi." "Oh so it's a graveyard," inquired Scott excitedly. Chris chucked at his brother's excitement. "Not at all sir," replied their Guide, "The garden is used as a park, where people jog, do yoga, exercise and kids play around. You will get an idea once we reach."

While the road to Lodhi Gardens had been full of traffic and commotion, the place itself was peaceful and serene. Tall trees surrounded the walkways, manicured green lawns with flower beds covered the uneven terrain, while the graves of the bygone kings were nothing like the Evans family had seen before. These were ancient structures, with delicate ornate carvings on the walls. "Woah," whispered Scott, "If these are their graves, then I can't even imagine how royal their palaces must have been!"

Chris caught himself smiling. As much as he willed himself not to feel happiness, he couldn't help but feel a little bit relaxed. Lodhi Gardens were beautiful.

[dishonoredrpg]

Congratulations, ALLI! You’ve been accepted for the role of SEVEN OF SWORDS with the faceclaim of CILLIAN MURPHY. Canis is certainly a fucking concept, whom I adore to no end. He’s got a tenacious and willful sort of attitude about him, the kind of incredulous charm and wit that lends itself to an air of villainy and danger, and I think that he fits into the Seven of Swords like one fits into a well-made boot or glove. In spite of remaining leashed like a dog, he’s got no small amount of fire in him, and I’m eager to see what (or who!) he sinks his teeth into during gameplay. You’ve brought me a real gift, dropped it on my doorstep, and I am grateful.

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

— APPLICATION

OOC

NAME:    alli PRONOUNS:    she / her AGE:    twenty - one TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL:    cst /  i  am  currently  on  summer  break  and  have  the  ability  to  be  really  active ,  but  sometimes  things  do  come  up !  i  definitely  have  plenty  of  time  to  be  on  the  dash  with  several  posts  within  activity  limit  and  when  my  muse  is  high  ( i’ll  be  honest  i’m  a  hoe  for  high  fantasy )  my  activity  is  also  super  up ! ANYTHING ELSE?:    what’s the mead sis…….. the wenches are squabbling …….

IN CHARACTER

SKELETON:    seven  of  swords NAME:   efferus  aubenet   /   “canis”  &  “the  dog”   efferus  -  of  latin  meaning ,  “wild ,  savage ,  cruel ,  barbarous” .  a  name  canis  has  long  since  abandoned ,  preferring  even  the  subtle  jab  of  “the  dog”  given  to  him  by  opponents  of  his  crew  and  the  highborn  that  look  down  on  him .  he  finds  it  just  about  as  cutting  as  a  bread knife .  no  one  except  those  closest  to  him  ( ie .  the  pack )  even  know  this  name  exists . canis  -  latin  for  “ dog ” ,  though also  the  scientific  genus  for  all  canines ,  including  wolves  and  coyotes .  meant  to  symbolize  canis  as   the  leader  of  his  pack  of  wild  dogs ,  and  a  sign  of  respect ,  a  nickname  earned  on  the  streets  and  not  given  to  him  in  tyrholm . the  dog  -  a  nickname  received  while  working  under  king  septimus ,  by  those  that  see  the  second  fangs  as  dirty ,  unruly ,  savages .  also  by  revolters  who  see canis  as  a  dog  blindly  following  the  orders  of  a  tyrannical  king.  in  any  case ,  he  still  prefers  this  to  efferus .  sometimes  he  even  barks  in  response . FACECLAIM:    cillian  murphy ,  michiel  huisman   ( he / him  pronouns ,  cis  male ) AGE:    thirty - nine  ,  born  on  the  twenty - seventh  day  of  the  twelfth  month

DETAILS:   i  always  find  myself  drawn  to  underdog  characters ,  muses  that  have  overcome  more  than  most  others  could  even  imagine  to  find  themselves  in  their  present  position .  i  believe  there  is  so  much  depth  to  backgrounds  like  canis’s .  no family  so  he  created  his  own ,  nothing  to  his  name  so  he  created  his  own  legacy .  a  moral  compass that  tries  it’s  best  to  always  point  north .  that  fails ,  because  the  muse  is  so  painfully  human .  the  irony  of  a  sellsword  who  wants  more  for  himself ?  incredible .  when  i  was  skimming  the  skeletons ,  it  was  his  that  startled  practically  writing  itself ,  this  street  urchin  turned  warrior  figure ,  so  i  spent  a  lot  of  time  picking  apart  the  biography  until  i  was  left  with  canis . i  did  a  bit  of  research  on  the  seventh  of  swords  tarot  card ,  but  let  me  tell  you  ..  i  was  so  pleasantly  surprised  and  intrigued  when  i  did .  on  one  hand ,  when  upright ,  seven  of  swords  means  scheming ,  resourcefulness ,  cunning ,  and  lies ,  all  traits  that  have  gotten  canis  to  where  he  is  today ,  however  negative ,  the  legacy  he’s  forged  for  himself  and  all  deeply  tied  to  his  work .  however ,  when  reversed ,  the  seven  of  swords  can  mean  confession ,  conscience ,  regret ,  and  maliciousness ,  which  i  think  lend  beautifully  to  this  character’s  private  struggles .  there  is  a  very  heavy  mix  of  negative  and  positive  attributes  leant  towards  seven  of  sword’s  core  character ,  someone  who  wants  to  do  right  by  themselves  at  great  cost .  when  interpreting  the  tarot  as  canis ,  i  was  drawn  to  the  maliciousness  and  the  regret  ( in  sometimes  equal  measure )  of  the  reversed  card .  i  believe  there  is  so  much  more  to  this  character  than  just  his  web  of  scheming  and  lies ,  that  canis’s  true  self  comes  from  somewhere  within ,  and  i’m  really  excited  to  explore  his  inner  conflicts.  this  man  has  so  many  issues  that  he’s  buried  and  i  think  the  possibility  of  him  becoming  a  part  of  the  revolution?  impeccable.  my  muse  for  this  skeleton ?  through  the  roof .

BACKGROUND  

I .  O’ ROMULUS  AND  REMUS ,  CASTOR  AND  POLLUX ,  WHAT  IS  ONE  WITHOUT  THE  OTHER ?   a  twin ,  you  were  told ,  though  it  feels  like  something  you  should  never  be  permitted  to  forget.  you’ve  never  felt  him there ,  not  like  a  phantom  limb  or  a  guiding  whisper.  just  a  story ,  when  you’re  feeling  ungrateful  for  your  lot  in  this  realm ,  that  there  is  only  one  where  there  once  was  two.  born  in  the  dead  of  winter  --  the  one  that  bit  at  the  napes  of  even  the  most  fur  cloaked  nobility  of  markholm ,  that  anyone  unlucky  enough  to  live  through  it  can  still  recall  as  “ceaseless”   --   and  childbirth  takes  your  mother  as  it  goes.  two  children ,  born  sickly ,  cold.  so  you  are  dubbed  efferus ,  a  savage  beast  who  can  claw  his  way  into  life ,  barely  holding  onto  breath ,  already  having  taken  a  life.   it  takes  a  village  to  raise  motherless  boys.  sometimes  it  takes  more  than  that.  your  brother  doesn’t  make  it  past  the  winter ,  but  you  keep  growing ,  getting  stronger  by  the  day ,  and  finally  spring  flowers  bloom  forth  from  hard  soil.  the  goat  farmer  next  door  tells  your  father  you  are  a  resilient  one ,  that  the  undying  smiled  upon  him.  another  miracle ,  that  your  life  could  be  a  blessing  and  not  a  curse.   as  long  as  you  knew  him ,  your  father  kept  steadfast  in  deep  religion ,  devout ,  praying  over  the  crops.  the  cattle.  the  harvest.  even  your  birth ,  a  story  he  recants  so  mystically  it’s  hard  to  imagine  you  were  there.  “we  all  bled  fer  you ,”  he  always  starts ,  like  it’s  your  fault ,  “my  son ,  my  son.  let  all  else  be  damned  fer  ‘im.”  two  lives  for  the  price  of  one ,  he  reminds  you ,  and  you’re  just  a  boy ,  but  you  still  find  it  all  absurd.  there’s  never  been a rhyme  or  reason  to  suffering.  “you  make  a  deal  with  the  undying  and  you  get  what  you  paid  fer.”  sometimes  it  seems  a  compliment.  others ..  you  aren’t  so  sure.   your  father  hath  no  mercy  for  the  weak  or  spineless ,  though  he  wasn’t  an  inherently  evil  man  either ,  at  least  not  in  the  figments  you  can  conjure  of  him.  you  plow  the  fields ,  with  hands  so  rough  with  calluses  you  can’t  feel  the  hilt  of  the  axe  you  use  to  cut  the  firewood.  you  milk  the  cows ,  so  gentle  with  great  beasts  you  start  to  forget  your  name.  you’re  skin  and  bone  and  beating  heart  ,  not  much  to  look  at ,  but  just  the  blessing  your  father  asked  for  all  the  same.  a  good  boy ,  in  that  you  were  capable  and  healthy  and  strong.  a  bad  seed ,  in  that  you  cared  for  little  and  didn’t  always  do  as  you  were  told.   it’s  your  tenth  winter  when  frostbitten  tendrils  take  first  your  farm ,  and  then  your  father.  you  make  a  deal  with  the  undying  and  you  get  what  you  paid  for ,  you  remember ,  and  it  almost  makes  you  laugh.  perhaps  it’s  not  so  funny  that  you  mourn  very  little  the  life  you  lost.  perhaps  still  it  is  a  testament  to  your  strength ,  a  boy  of  only  ten  who  shoulders  already  a  lifetime  of  death  and  decay.  who  makes  it  look  a  load  easy  to  bear.  who  are  you ,  efferus  aubenet?  and  who  will  you  become?

II .  A  MIRRORED  MIDAS  ,  IF  EVERYTHING  HE  HAD  TOUCHED  TURNED  TO  DEATH  AND  ROT .   a  street  urchin  with  no  farm ,  no  family ,  and  most  prominently  no  coin.  winters  slip  away  like  sand  through  an  hourglass ,  and  it’s  all  you  can  do  to  keep  track  of  the  time  that  folds  beneath  you.  one  year ,  and  you’re  frail  and  quiet  and  know  only  to  keep  to  yourself.  three  years  and  you’ve  developed  a  taste  for  fighting ,  scrappy  as  you  are.  it’s  just  a  game ,  in  the  beginning ,  one  the  other  coinless  children  keep  telling  you  you’re  too  good  at ,  “it’s  no  fun  fighting  a  hungry  dog.”  five  years  and  you’re  taller ,  more  meat  to  your  bones.  you’re  better  at  sneaking  things  out  of   the  market ,  extra  to  feed  your  friends.  you  learned  the  hard  way  what  happens  if  you  don’t  bring  back  enough ,  if  you  turn  a  blind  eye  to  people  who  call  out  your  name.  you  hear  it  when  you  dream ,  half  awake  in  chilled  darkness.   “i’m  so  hungry,  efferus.  i’m  so  hungry.”   you  start  going  by  canis.  it  makes  it  easier  to  sleep.   six ,  seven  years  and  you’re  so  good  at  fighting  that  your  pockets  start  to  feel  heavy.  cobbled  streets  whisper  canis  when  you  cross.  bruised  fists  and  a  bloody  conscience ,  not  all soldiers  make  it  out  of  battle  alive.  it  dawns  on  you ,  slowly  but  with  all  the  force  of  a  crack  of  lightning ,  why  the  others  like  to  call  you  dog.  maybe  it’s  because  you  were  born  from  death ,  or  because  you  know  loss  so  well  it  colors  your  eyelids  when  you  blink ,  but  it  seems  all  you’re  good  for.  you  discover  a  rage  within  you ,  one  which  you’re  sure  ( you  hope ,  foolish  as  it  is )  any  man  is  capable  of ,  if  pushed  too  far.  but  it’s  directionless ,  vile  in  the  way  it  sits  inside  your  chambered  heart.  there  is  nothing  more  universal  than  pain.  nothing  more  isolating  than  anger.  a  boy  with  a  taste  for  blood.  so  blind  to  the  way  you  snap ,  like  branch  under  boot ,  when  you  push  too  hard.  what  place  is  there  for  you  in  an  unforgiving  world ,  wracked  with  hardship?  at  whose  table  do  you  dine?   you  knew  love  once ,  it  felt  like  sharing  bread  and  blankets  and  tales  of  woe.  like  years  on  the  streets  relying  only  on  wit  and  steadfast  determination  to  survive.  like  knowing  a  person  fully ,  inside  and  out ,  as  you’d  always  known  yourself.  that  too  would  be  taken  from  you ,  like  everything  else.  for  the  price  of  just  a  single  coin ,  you  watched  your  love  take  their  last  breath ,  watched  the  thief  make  off  with  their  blood  money ,  felt  truly  and  terribly  powerless.  worse  than  losing  your  father  to  deep  winter  chill  you  lost  your  first  love  to  a  blade.  and  in  the  end ,  it  meant  nothing.     the  sons  of  argos  could  not  undo  what  you’d  done ,  what  had  been  done  to  you ,  but  maybe  you  could  give  back  tenfold.  it  starts  small ,  at  a  table  in  your  favorite  tavern ,  as  all  great  plots  tended  to  do.  an  invitation  to  join  a  company  you’d  heard  about  only  in  whispers.  you  saw  espace ,  penance  where  others  saw  a  home ,  but  that  would  always  be  enough  for  you.  it  was  intended  to  be  permanent ,  a  family  you  couldn’t  lose ,  under  a  friend  who  would  lay  down  their  life  for  the  men ,  women ,  and  children  under  their  protection.  a  life  of  adventure  to  call  your  own  and  you  didn’t  need  to  suffer  anymore.  you  had  but  one  skill ,  it  seemed ,  beyond  tending  to  the  herd  and  trimming  too  tall  crops ,  and  your  father  once  taught  you  that  skill  fed  fortune  ( though  the  money ,  you’d  find ,  would  come  later ) .  you  don’t  think  the  sons  is  quite  what  your  dearly  departed  had  in  mind ,  and  this  makes  your  smile  widen.  you’ve  always  found  humor  in  odd  places.     what  follows  is  a  career  far  short  of  extravagant ,  fighting  crime  like  a  bunch  of  vigilanties ,  tied  to  a  city  state  that  knows  little  of  its  own  streets.  you  hunger  for  travel ,  to  sink  your  teeth  into  shores  unseen ,  land  untended.  to  make  a  real  name  for  yourself  and  anyone  who  followed  suit.  “mind  your  place ,  mutt,”  you  hear  more  than  once ,  and  you  want  to  swat  the  others  away  like  flies  buzzing  in  swelling  ears.  but  there’s  something  sharp ,  too ,  like  a  cut  that  just  won’t  heal.  your  voice  is  too  loud  amongst  the  rest ,  your  name  --  the  name  you  paid  for  in  blood  --  nothing  next  to  strength’s.  the  captain  you  were  meant  to  worship  turned  to  dust  in  your  heavy  fist ,  the  family  you  forged  alongside  them  never  yours  to  call  your  own.  you  tell  yourself  they  betrayed  you ,  like  everything  else  in  this  life  they  gave  you  nothing  to  hold  onto  save  for  the  back  of  their  coattails ,  but  in  truth  you  were  never  meant  to  stay.  minding  your  place  felt  a  lot  like  digging  six  feet  down  to  lay  rest.   it’s  like  waking  from  a  dream ,  one  you  push  down  when  it  returns  to  you  in  the  night ,  leaving  the  sons  for  good.  four  winters  you  slept  under  their  tents ,  ate  at  their  table ,  and  still  you  feel  nothing  when  you  pack  what’s  yours  ( and  maybe  some  of  what  isn’t ,  but  who  would  dare  come  looking  for  it? )  and  go.  no  one  follows ,  no  one  even  pleads  your  case ,  and  when  you  see  them  playing  knights  on  the  docks  the  fire  in  you  swells.  it’s  all  rot  now.

III .  WHERE  WOULD  ICARUS  BE  NOW ,  IF  SOMEONE  WISE  HAD  CLIPPED  CURSED  WINGS?      iriebury  is  the  stank  of  unwashed  flesh ,  the  heat  of  southern  sun ,  something  to  conquer.  the  citizens  are  mean  and  the  crime  meaner.  it  makes  tyrholm  look  a  lot  like  playing  pretend ,  the  sons  seem  like  a  group  of  toy  soldiers.  to  survive  in  iriebury  you  need  your  bark ,  you  need  your  bite.  naturally , you  thrive.   it  takes  just  one  winter ,  one  warm  southern  winter ,  before  you  have  something  to  call  a  crew  of  your  very  own.  the  second  fangs ,  a  handful  of  beaten  down ,  nearly  finished  off  mutts  that  think  you  look  like  a  future.  you’ll  find  one  day ,  when  you’ve  turned  to  face  the  wrong  end  of  a  sword ,  these  dogs’  loyalty  knows  no  bounds.  and  maybe  you  do  have  a  family  after  all.  they  don’t  look  like  warriors  born  for  battle ,  but  they’re  sharp  on  every  edge  and  speak  of  you  like  you  hung  the  moon.  like  a  prophecy  spun  from  the  undying  herself.  the  queen  of  iriebury’s  no  different ,  when  you  flash  her  a  smile  and  run  a  sword  through  her  guard.  this  is  your  destiny.   with  work  and  full  bellies ,  the  second  fangs  grow ,  picking  up  more  men  and  women  the  rest  of  markholm  cast  aside ,  giving  them  all  purpose.  leadership  becomes  you ,  you’re  kind  in  places  other  captains  breathe  fire.  your  men  adore  you ,  and  maybe  this  is  why  it’s  easy  to  lose  yourself  a  bit.  you’ve  always  been  looking  for  him ,  that  voice  inside  of  you  that  has  guided  every  confident  step ,  and  you  really  start  to  believe  you’ve  found  him  at  the  end  of  a blade.     what  you  do  isn’t  pretty like  life  in  a  castle ,  it  isn’t  gentle  like  the  farm  or  humble  like  a  temple ,  but  it  suits  you.  you  find  company  at  the  bottom  of  a  bottle ,  family  inside  the  taverns  and  brothels ,  atop  dirty  cobblestone.  it  all  feels  a  lot  like  honor ,  like  duty.  you’re  known  for  your  loyalty  and  cunning  among  burdened  skill.  work  lends  to  virtue  or  some  mirrored  image  of  the  sort.  the  second  fangs  take  the  jobs  you  approve ,  not  the  ones  the  queen  hands  you ,  nails  stained  with  blood ,  and   who  knew  a  mercenary  crew  with  such  an  eye  for  morality?  bastards  that  comb  the  streets  but  speak  with  love  fresh  on  their  lips.  you’re  a  heathen  with  heart ,  of  that  not  even  the  fiercest  opponents  can  dispute.  maybe  there  is  a  place  in  this  world  for  nameless ,  coinless  men  with  a  hunger  for  something  more.  you  give  back  to  your  beloved  pack  what  they  give  to  you ;  everything ,  everything  and  then  some.  a  life  that  means  more  than  scraping  the  bottom  of  the  barrel.   you  can’t  carry  on  like  this  forever  and  survive ,  and  it’s  only  a  matter  of  time  before  real  gold  starts  knocking.  a  steady  job ,  you’re  promised.  a  lifetime  of  stability ,  peace.  you  know  more  of  the  king  of  tyrholm than  you  let  on ,  and  maybe  you  are  naive  to  trust  the  word  of  a  woman  who  did  not  raise  herself ,  but  when  you  look  at  your  company’s  worn  faces  and  tired  smiles ,  weathered  from  southern  strife ,  it’s  never  been   easier  to  bend  a  knee.     some  odd  winters ,  some  odd  springs ,  lived  with  modest  lavesty.  septimus  is  an  arse  of  a  man  that  whispers  corroded  bidding  into  your  graceless  ear.  no  one  but  the  second  fangs  knows  how  much  you  shake ,  when  the  job  is  done  and  you’re  safe  at  home.  how  much  weight  you  shoulder ,  for  yourself ,  for  your  men ,  for  the  lives  you’ve  taken.  the  lives  you  will  take.  your  crew  was  never  meant  to  become  a  rebellion.  the  glory  feels  lost ,  you’re  a  knight  without  chivalry ,  a  wolf  without  teeth.  you  hear  dog  more  than  your  own  name  and  you  bite  back  bile  when  you  look  in  a  mirror ,  but  still ,  you  think ,  you  would  do  it  all  over  again.     the  second  fangs  are  a  happy  crew ,  well  fed  and  housed  and  nothing  like  the  orphans  you  sheltered  so  many  moons  ago.  when  it  starts  to  feel  like  you  have  your  own  sons  of  argos  you  shelf  the  thought.  your  pack  looks  at  you ,  strong  and  fit  and  still  just  a  bit  withered ,  and  laugh  and  cheer.  “yer  getting  old,  canis,”  they  jest ,  when  you  stumble  into  bed.  “hunch - backed  from  all  that  gold  in  yer  pockets.”  you’ve  always  been  wiser  than  most  of  them ,  something  raw  in  your  heart  that  keeps  it  beating  steadfast.  better  you  than  them ,  you  know.  most  men  would  crack  at  what  you’d  seen.  what  you  know.     there’s  good  to  be  found ,  once  you  learn  how  to  look ,  like  the  devotion  of  judgement  ,  a  beauty  in  worship  that  reminds  you  of  all  your  father’s  useless  praying.  peaceful  in  all  it’s  absurdity.  there’s  friendship  in  odd  places ,  with  the  empress  you  serve.  you  find  it  hard  to  trust  in  tyrholm ,  unaccustomed  to  the  politics  of  a  ruling  class ,  the  society  that  never  once  smiled  down  on  a  farm  boy  and  his  widowed  father.  you  want  to  be  wise  and  cunning ,  still  sometimes  you  feel  inadequate  next  to  those  raised  in  education ,  but  the  queen  saw  your  potential  before  anyone  else  in  the  whole  retched  kingdom ,  and  that  has  to  mean  something.  there’s  the  fool ,  a  real  dog  you  sometimes  think ,  who  mirrors  your  old  captain  so  much  it  makes  your  skin  crawl.  they  aren’t  so  bad ,  but  it’s  hard  for  you  to  look  up  at  someone  who  serves  at  the  hand  of  the  king.  you  wonder  if  others  think  the  same  of  you.  fools ,  the  whole  lot  of  them.   you  know  what  the  queen  expects  of  you ,  your  word  is  your  livelihood ,  but  these  things  take  time.  for  now ,  you’re  comfortable ;  your  cup  is  full.  there’s  always  been  something  about  wars  to  come  that  feels  like  home ,  ragged  and  battle  scarred  thing  that  you  are.  and  besides ,  it’s  easier  to  put  out  a  fire  that  burns  inside  your  ribs  than  one  that  swallows  an  entire  kingdom ,  of  this  you  are  certain.

PLOT IDEAS

STRENGTH:   oh  boy  oh  man.  canis  can’t  hold  his  tongue  with  distaste  even  if  he  tried ,  and  he  definitely  doesn’t  try  with  them.  his  anger  often  gets  the  better  of  him  and  i  believe  he  would  try  to  confront  strength  every  chance  he  gets.  he  sees  this  skeleton  as  nothing  more  than  the  king’s  right  hand  ( literally  so  exciting  to  me  that  strength  is  also  a  revolter  and  i’m  sure  neither  of  them  know  they’re  destined  to  work  on  the  same  side  again?? )   and  i  think  he  reflects  a  lot  of  his  own  inadequacies  onto  this  skeleton ,  a  lot  of  his  failure.  with  such  a  tension  relationship  i’d  like  to  see  fights  break  out ..  maybe  even  between  their  own  respective  men  that  they’d  have  to  quell.  far  down  the  line  even  settling  their  differences  and  working  together  as  the  military  leaders  of  a  revolution  because  who  is  better  suited  for  the  job  than  them?  but  it  would  take  a  big  blow  to  canis’s  pride  to  share  such  a  job ,  to  ever  work  alongside  this  skeleton  instead  of  against  them  like  he  always  has.  so  all  around?  here  for  it  all. NINE OF WANDS:   canis  looks  at  them  and  sees  passion  he  once  was  sure  he  felt ,  the  sharp  thing  in  his  gut  that  once  spurred  him  to  forge  his  own  path  in  a  world  that  never  once  showed  him  kindness.  his  scars  are  internal ,  but  they  wear  their  scar  like  a  badge  of  honor ,  at  least  that’s  how  canis  sees  it.  he’d  love  to  not  have  to  kill  the  king  himself ,  even  if  he  would  never  admit  it.  it  means  a  safer  life  for  his  men ,  it  means  being  done  with  tyrholm  and  a  life  of  ease  and  travel ,  everything  he’s  always  wanted  and  never  seemed  to  be  able  to  grasp.  i  wonder  if  them  growing  closer  through  sparring  and  their  ability  to  provide  him  the  best  weapons  he’s  ever  seen  could  change  his  opinion  on  wanting  them  to  kill  the  king  in  a  fit  of  rage??  i  could  see  canis  wanted  to  strategize  with  them ,  in  the  end ,  once  he’s  done  poking  the  bear.  love  this  gift  of  a  connection  a  lot !!!! THE EMPRESS:   definite  ass  kissing  going  on  here.  canis  is  more  than  grateful  he  was  hired  by  her  and  not  the  king ,  though  i  do  think  he  might  resent  them  a  little  for  the  work  the  king  makes  his  company  do.  he  prefers  to  take  jobs  from  them ,  when  ordered ,  though  i  feel  their  relationship  at  this  point  goes  beyond  just  work  like  it  does  with  septimus.  he  trusts  them  and  it  does  help  him  to  sleep  at  night  thinking  he  could  be  serving  their  hand  and  not  septimus’s.  also  entirely  possibly  they  call  him  the  dog  but  with  them  it  doesn’t  feel  like  malice.  he  would  never  dare  disrespect  the  queen ,  especially  one  he  sees  goodness in ,  sees  his  entire  future  in.  would  be  really  interesting  if  canis  even  is  a  little  too  friendly  with  them ,  giving  them  a  hard  time  where  maybe  no  one  else  would  dare  to  do ,  an  annoying  prick  in  her  side  that  she  NEEDS  to  get  what  she  wants. THE HERMIT:   i  think  he  has  a  lot  of  respect  for  the  hermit.  in  ways  that  his  pride  keeps  him  from  seeing  his  similarities  with  strength ,  he  sees  so  much  of  who  he  once  was  in  them.  young ,  making  their  own  way ,  maybe  even  some  of  the  same  rage ,  though  canis  has  no  place  to  put  his  own.  i  feel  like  if  the  respect  was  mutual  they  could  have  a  friendly  relationship ,  canis  even  pushing  advice  onto  them  they  might  not  want  or  need.  if  a  revolution  came  he  would  back  them.  somewhere ,  he  probably  even  sees  them  as  something  of  a  good  king.  canis  doesn’t  trust  them  fully ,  but  he  could  drink  with  them ,  knows  the  second  fangs  would  treat  them  kindly  as  well. THE HIGH PRIESTESS:   canis  is  scared  of  little ,  but  he’s  scared  shitless  of  them.  he  avoids  them  at  all  costs ,  looks  the  other  way  when  they’re  brought  to  the  same  space.  he  doesn’t  talk  kindly  of  necromancers ,  though  maybe  there  is  some  envy  there  he  needs  to  address.  he’s  sure  this  doesn’t  go  unnoticed ,  not  with  all  their  years  of  wisdom.  i  think  it  could  be  really  interesting  though  if  one  of  his  closest  friends  is  killed  on  a  job  and  they  bring  them  back  as  he  watches ,  sees  this  power  first  hand ,  feels  even  a  debt  is  owed  though  none  of  the  fear  is  gone.  a  lot  of  possibilities ,  i  could  see  the  second  fangs  might  be  dying  a  lot  more  often  pretty  soon ... JUSTICE:   the  world  calls  canis  the  dog  because  they  see  him  as  filth ,  as  something  mangey  that  feeds  from  table  scraps  of  the  king ,  but  canis  sees  that  justice  is  the  real  dog.  and  he  pities  him  for  it.  there’s  little  glory  in  the  work  of  a  bodyguard ,  and  maybe  canis  wonders  how  justice  would  fair  in  his  own  company.  never  the  less ,  i  think  they  could  butt  heads  just  as  easily  as  they  could  share  a  pint.  maybe  they’ve  even  fought  in  some  of  the  same  battles ,  know  each  other  from  war  torn  lives  and  have  a  bond  because  of  this.  lots  of  potential  for  both  malice  and  comradery ,  no  matter  what  line  of  the  revolution  they  tread. THE LOVERS:   canis  sees  himself  and  more  in  them.  he  doesn’t  pity  easily ,  has  an  ability  to  find  the  strength  in  even  the  smallest  mouse ,  but  he  pities  the  lovers.  in  some  ways ,  i  think  he  wants  what  they  have ,  longs  for  something  as  fulfilling  as  love ,  and  doesn’t  want  to  see  this  squashed.  every  day  he  gets  closer  to  telling  them  of  the  war  to  come.  i  really  wonder  how  long  he  can  go  without  letting  anything  slip ,  especially  if  they  look  at  him  with  gentleness  or  show  him  great  kindness.  he  feels  they  need  to  prepare ,  like  he  is ,  for  a  future  of  destruction.   THE MOON:   okay okay ..  i  have  two  different  paths  that  i  think  might  be  interesting  with  this  skeleton  depending  on  what  gets  plotted  out.  BUT ..  i could imagine  canis  stumbles  into  their  office  after  being  badly  injured  on  the  job ,  probably  requesting  some  random  herb  because  it  HURTS  and  he’s  WEAK  and  he  needs  it  to  be  DONE  WITH.  one  path  would  lead  to  the  moon  healing  canis ,  and  once  he  discovers  this  ability  he  probably  begs  and  bribes  ( heavily.  the  man  is  too  wealthy  for  his  own  good  now ,  and  what  else  is  he  going  to  buy?  new  boots?  his  work  just  fine. )  them  to  start  visiting  the  second  fangs  around  the  city  to  heal  them  in  secret.  he’ll  do  anything  for  their  ensured  safety.  the  other  path  works  quite  the  same ,  only  with  no  healing ,  just  plants ,  and  he’d  be  very  dependent  on  this  muse  either  way  because  of  the  miracles  they’re  able  to  work  with  his  men.  really  really excited  for  the  possibilities  of  plots  with  this  skeleton. THE TOWER:   a  backstory  plot  for  these  muses  is  calling  my  name??  like  maybe  the  tower  and  canis  had  a  deal  where  the  second  fangs  would  assist  them  and  their  men  on  voyages  and  pillages  for  a  cut  of  the  treasure  when  all  was  said  and  done ,  back  when  the  second  fangs  were  fresher  and  poorer  and  in  desperate  need  of  work.  and  maybe  one  of  the  two  betrayed  the  other  on  one  of  these  trips ,  with  greed  for  treasure  or  something of the like?  things  could  be  tense  between  them  now ,  at  each  other’s  throats.  OR  there  could  have  never  been  a  betrayal  and  they’re  actually  quite  good  friends  who  know  a  little  too  much  about  each  other’s  pasts ,  and  canis  offers  the  tower  company  amongst  the  pack  knowing  he’s  lived  through  canis’s  own  worst  nightmare.  the  terrifying  ordeal  of  being  known.  canis  could  definitely  trust  them  more  than  he  should.  this  one  has  me  really  excited  i  won’t  lie.

CHARACTER DEATH:    canis  would  quite  literally  volunteer  for  this  so  that’s  a  big  yes  from me.

WRITING SAMPLE

THE SELF PARA:  the tent is warm and the burn of the lamplight casts shadows across familiar faces. the second fangs. his pack, he always calls them, like they’re puppies and not vicious mercenaries. canis is most comfortable here, at ease, his usually pin straight posture relaxed despite the job he knows lays ahead of them. it’s not one he’s entirely comfortable with, an uprising in a poor village. always messy, always felt a bit like putting down a weakened calf at the farm. so they drink, to forget the day that lies ahead, the uncountable days behind. the faces. faces. faces, that echo like screams.   he can’t recall who speaks first, but it was likely canis himself, always a little too bold when his body buzzed with liquid courage. “that’s not what i’m asking,” one of his men corrects with a nudge of canis’s shoulder, always aggressive with each other, a pack of wolves nipping at each other’s heels. “the death’s on your hands. but it’s meant to be a good one. worth while.” and the captain’s own eyes twinkle uncharacteristically, perhaps because his inner conscious knows what his mouth does not. that the answer lies waiting at the tip of his tongue, a snarling beast of a target.     “and how much coin are we gonna get fer it?” ajax jests, but canis can see the gold flashing in front of his face, even from across the table. canis barks out a laugh, and they all bang their goblets on the table.   “aye,” in unison. they know each other inside and out, they speak a language strange and foreign. a family with many moons in their pockets. how many knights can say that?   “no coin,” canis finally adds. “no glory. no private dance at the brothel,” eying ren, and there’s another chorus of easy laughter, more aye’s.   “one of the nobles,” lawren grunts, and at first there’s just ringing silence. a paranoia that winds it’s way through the small group. they trust each other with their lives but this .. it’s like blasphemy. it’s revolution uncurling within them, more than just a job, it’s a force awakening. lawren speaks again, gentler, louder. “undying knows they’re all pricks.” and it’s easy again, more aye’s, cups overflowing with wine and ale.   but in between the laughter, he feels the wrench in his gut, the rage that threatens to flare. an allegiance of blood and blind faith  --  it reminds him so much of religion that he squirms. maybe his answer lies in a job, with wicked tendrils wrapped around his neck like a leash. the dog. how wrong would it be to bite the hand that feeds you? “i’d cut off my ring fingers and swear to celibacy to be rid of the fuck all king already,” canis growls, his knuckles white where he grips tight on his cup. and it’s quiet again. when he speaks they listen, they all listen, even the highborn in the castle, like he’s a wave crashing on shore. commanding attention. demanding it.   “you’re spending too much time with the clerics,” ren groans, with a face like a fox, her hair hanging limply in her face. he can’t tell if she’s smiling or frowning, but they’re nodding in agreement. all of them.    “what good’s that sack of shit king, anyway?” lawren chimes in, and then it’s deafening chatter. all canis can do is listen, absorb the pain of his men, the frustration, see himself reflected in their woes. say what any outsider will about his crew, maybe they are all mutts. one mind, one body, one restless spirit. tired of being used, of being chained to a cause that tries to fill deep chasms in bleeding hearts with gold. what is the price of true freedom?   “maybe the end is closer than you think, canis,” a small voice that rises above the others. a girl, mary, raised in the pack, only nearing her seventeenth summer. and she’s a legacy of everything canis has created, the family he wove with bruised and boney fingers. “we haven’t lost a battle, yet.” and she’s right, of course she’s right, whip smart and flea bitten. if there is to be a revolution, aid of the pack would be an immense advantage. it isn’t arrogance with which his men speak. it’s truth.   he has to chew on the suggestion, sharp glass in his mouth with every bite, impossible to digest, but maybe with the backing of his crew .. canis has trouble seeing the future beyond a sack of coins and a full bottle of ale. he knows little of politics, even after all his withered years serving as something of a king himself. it’s overwhelming, and he thinks his whole arm shakes when he raises his goblet. “nasty fuckers,” but his teeth shine in the lamplight, like fangs. like canines. “trying to get your own captain killed.” but when they clink glasses, it feels like a deal has been made, like he owes this death to more than just the queen, like the undying herself is watching.

EXTRAS

VOICE :   canis  has  an  eclectic  sort  of  accent ,  a  combination  of  all  of  the  people  he  met  while  living  on  the  street ,  his  father ,  the  lands  he’s  traveled  and  settled  into  with  his  companies .  he  constantly  sticks  out  as  an  outsider ,  no  matter  where  he  is .  he  doesn’t  mind  this  sense  of  otherness  because  whenever  canis  goes ,  his  family  is  never  far . canis’s  mockblog  can  be  found  HERE his  pinterest  can  be  found  HERE   ( blood  tw )

[tslasvegas]

Episode 2: “I am typically regarded as a joke” - Livingston

Anyways... rip Colin, no idea who that was.. obviously Okay well I think we are out of the first impressions stage of this game and I think I've done an okay job of not making a strong impression one way or another, except to DeNara who I've been talking to most consistently since the start of this game. Except for today lmfao I was NOT active on purpose but I'll try to get to that in this confessional. I saw that the tribe went on a call so I decided to join and chit-chat with the girlies of this tribe and I've gotta say.. I'm lowkey disappointed to learn that despite being a returning player, everybody else on the tribe is friends with each other. Aside from Mo it sounds like they all know each other one way or another and I'm kinda left out of that connection. Even though they might not all be friends, it is a bit uncomfortable to be in a call with people where you know NOTHING they're talking about and you're not catching any of the jokes or references to other games. Also, I noticed that the personalities kinda blended together and these aren't people that I'd get along with in other orgs I play, so.. oops. One highlight of the call was that Nik was talking about Rachael and they were saying that Rachael got rid of them, I believe. Basically just talking about how they view Rachael differently because of that I guess? I was kind of in and out during that. But then DeNara posted IN THE TRIBE CHAT when it was just us three plus Kailyn on the call that Nik was spilling tea... and it was just. so. cringe. Idk if Nik or Kailyn noticed and the fact that everyone else was acting so nonchalant makes me think I missed something but either way I was on mute howling bc of second-hand embarrassment. As far as my current position, I do feel a bit comfortable with where I'm at because although I AM uncomfortable being left out of the friend group, normally I thrive early game when I get underestimated. I'm trying to just not make waves and stick to whatever plans come my way and hopefully people don't view me as a threat. Every time I'd leave and rejoin the call everybody was talking about totally normal IRL stuff so it doesn't seem like people are playing the game yet, but last round I did make a bit of an alliance with DeNara for the time being. Despite feeling like an outsider, I'm going to just continue to look at the positives of every situation because as a pessimistic person by nature, I'm inclined to feel doomed in any scenario. But this is my redemption season. I'm not here to get tenth place, I'm here to win and this season will prove itself to be an uphill battle and I'm just getting started. Tumblr Survivor has always felt like the story of Sisyphus and the Boulder to me. Look into the deeper meaning of the story and I promise a lot of the details do kind of relate to me and my character throughout my run in this community, but the general idea is that I've been tasked with a chore of having to push this heavy boulder up a neverending mountain in Hell. As a returning player, I've faced a lot of hardship when I could've just gotten the outcome I want the first time, and each return to Tumblr Survivor, I've pretty much done worse and worse since then. I'm ready to finally push that fucking boulder out of the underworld and bring myself back to the playing field I deserve to be on. For now, I'm just going to keep pushing.

So glad we won that first immunity. Why am I not surprise to see a unanimous vote for the first tribal. Even a self vote.... hopefully we win again today 

I’m already over this tribe. Keegan and Liv are the only fun ones to talk to, Joey I think tries but also doesn’t. Also low key hoping people don’t know too much about Svalbard cause if people know about Rachael and I being close that could be a problem. I’m not letting my work schedule get in the way of my activity, but it’s a bad sign to me when I’m of the most active people on the tribe. I should be the baseline, not the gold standard

I think our Tribe is a bit laid back. Not much interaction, not really that engaging. I hope Jake and Kevin did a good job at the challenge, I don't want to go to Tribal again. The typhoon here passed, I hope Tribal passes too!

Woo we got out the main inactive person. Although really my entire tribe is quiet and lowkey inactive, but Jake and I talk a lot in PMs which is good. Also Stephen is doing his best with timezones so I know he wants to play bc he's always on when he is able to be on. The next biggest inactive person on the tribe is Kevin, but he instantly volunteered to do the challenge so yay I guess. If we lose though, he is still an option to go in my mind. I'm not trying to make too much of a plan because we could win this challenge and then I'm going to try to open the vault because if we come in first I will have 10 chips. But I still need to figure out if it costs 10 chips to open the vault or if you're just not allowed to look at it until you have 10 chips.

You want a confessional, well here it is. Nothing has happened. To be honest, I’ve barely even spoken to anyone today. Or yesterday for that matter. It’s also been quiet in tribe chat.

I finally got my tribe on a call. Most of them joined in, at least for a little bit so that was nice. The only person that wasn't on call was Ben, which kind of paints him as the outsider of the tribe right now. 

...five seconds later

I want to get to know Mo better and maybe set up some sort of alliance with them, but they are so spotty with when they are on, it is difficult to keep a conversation going. I am not chill enough for this game yet lol.

ok. so like that's annoying. that challenge was supposed to be fun but jake is making a big stink. and like yeah i'm mad too but like it's over and it's just a game it's not like actual money lol. also, i don't really care if we go to tribal. makes you stronger. whatever. i'm sure he's a nice person but like i think he's just mad he lost. whatevs. 

Nik and Rachael did our challenge and won. Thank goodness it wasn't me! What my tribe will soon come to realize is I am basically useless at challenges. Rip me.

...five seconds later

Yay! Mo finally asked if I wanted to work together! Took them long enough ;-) jkjk I am excited to finally start playing this game

So after a heated and undeserved loss - sorry Dan I know we talked about it but I'm sticking to my guns - I start packing my bags. All of a sudden Stephen wants to target John, John wants to target Timmy; and nobody is throwing my name out there... Like... Hello? I just got into a public fight with production, shouldn't I be target number one? And now, Xavier and I are the swing votes... How the hell did the worst Tumblr Survivor Player and a 45 Year old man end up stuck in the middle? What the hell even is this season?

WE LOST AGAIN. So now which alliance to choose?! 

I can't believe this round. I should be the target, why - why am I not the target? I lost the challenge. I yelled at production. I am the easiest vote, but nobody is voting me! What is happening?? Timmy and Stephen made an alliance chat with Xavier and I to vote John. John and Kevin are working together to vote Timmy. Xavier says - "Jake tell me what to do!" Timmy and John are both telling me everything the other one is saying to each other, and it's amazing. I have no idea how Xavier and I are voting tonight. On one hand, you have Stephen and Timmy who seem like a really strong duo. But Stephen trusts me a lot, and if I vote out his closest ally than I'll go down that list - which could be trouble in case of the inevitable swap. John is MY closest ally, but if we vote him out the team is much more united. Do I play for ME or do I play for WE? I'm 95% sure the vote is going to be 4-2, and people are going to be blindsided.

“Theres three tribes! Means we’re less likely to have back to back tribals” -_- sure jan. So we lost again, blergh, looked like an annoying challenge. The tribe is still pretty muted, who knows whether they’re voting for me or not. I made a 4-man alliance with Timmy Jake and Xavier, which i do want, but we’ll have to see if everyone is legit. The two bad possibilities are if everyone is actually voting me for various reasons (timezone, round one oopsie, etc.) or if the real vote is jake for arguing with dan. idk, time will tell. From my POV the vote is John, pretty randomly just based on the fact of who competed in the challenge.

Hiiiiiii So I am very excited to be back in the game again. I very much enjoy my original tribe especially Andrew. We already have a Pennsylvania alliance with Stephanie and I think that that is good groundwork to have moving forward should we ever lose a challenge we already have three that are tight in at seven so if we hear anything about any of them targeting us we can do something about it. I like Livingston a lot and Joey but I can’t tell if Joey is 14 years old or not and that kind of bothers me. I am v excited to get with Kevin and see where me him and Andrew can go 

Winning is great, but we need to lose the next one or it’s gonna be a weird spot if the first swap is at 18, although it is very possible that it’s at 16. I don’t want to go into a swap with all the agency being with Luxor, or us having the most players because in both cases we get painted as the targets. Bad news all around

I have yet to confess but here goes! I feel very good on my tribe. We seem to be doing fairly well at comps so far and I would love to continue to miss Tribal as much as humanly possible. I have talked to everyone on my tribe in some capacity but I am not trying to be the one to initiate like alliances and shit before we even have to attend tribal. I just wanna be chill and lay low while also being a good member of the tribe whom people like. Keegan and I have a mutual agreement to make sure each other gets far. I got first boot in my last game and he has never made single digits here in Tumblr Survivor so let's change that. One fear with working with Keegan is that he knows how I play. I played his game, Forest of Horrors, and got rocked out at the Final 7. Keegan has since told me that I was runner up for Player of the Season. I am typically regarded as a joke in this community but Keegan is someone who knows how I play and respects how I play. This game is an entirely different scenario so I am going to likely try to keep my connection up with him.

So the vote seems like it's going to be John Coffey. I'm quite sad about it for a few reasons. He is really nice and I know we work well together in games and he is a very loyal player. Also, Jake had an entire temper tantrum last night after results and that was just extremely annoying. But, Jake is more active and talks to me more while John is a rare sighting. Tbh I would rather it be Kevin but I think they're getting a pass since they participated in the challenge...always next tribal because knowing this tribe it's a strong possibility. I swear if the next challenge is a music video though I will punch a wall since that will be my death sentence since I do not participate in those. I never feel comfortable so I just don't. If we go to tribal as a tribe of 5, that might not be that good, so just really hoping that that is not the next challenge.

ok here's the tea guys. i am pretty solid in my tribe right now. after this vote tonight there 5 of us, and 4 of us are in an alliance, which is good. HOWEVER, i'm solid with the 3 people separately. that's put me in a good spot for a tribe swap/merge. obviously we're like years away from a merge. but we could tribe swap soon. we shall see! 

[hollowedrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, CAISEY! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Lily Potter. I’m so glad you decided to rework your application. It’s clear you understand not only who Lily is, but how she fits into this verse. Lily is trying her best to appear as though she’s doing fine, as though she’s ready to take up arms and fight again, but in truth, she’s struggling more than she ever has. I also really liked your addition that she’s suffering from postpartum depression. I think that fits into how I envisioned her as a mother, and I can’t wait to see where you take her from here. 

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

ooc.

name: Caisey

age: 27 on the 25th

preferred pronouns: she/her

timezone: EST

activity: 7ish! I work weekday mornings/afternoons, but my weekends and evenings are free.

are you applying for more than one character?: just one!

how do you feel about your character dying?: Lily is living on borrowed time, honestly. She was never intended to live through this; she doesn’t know this, obviously, but it was her death that ensured Voldemort’s first defeat through protecting Harry from him. I would find it narratively justified for her to die protecting Harry.

anything else?: I wrote the app out of order (basically from the bottom up), so I feel like I should apologize if that messes with the coherency at all.

ic details.

full name: Lily June Potter, née Evans

Lily: from the flower. In the Victorian language of flowers, lilies are used to symbolize love and affection; in Christian religion, lilies are often used to represent purity and virtue.

June: from the Roman goddess Juno, associated with marriage, military, and the community.

date of birth: January 30th. Aquarius sun, Pisces moon, Taurus rising.

Sun in Aquarius: “You carry a lot on your shoulders and have need to fight for the underdog. It’s in your tenth house, meaning you feel the need to distinguish yourself from others through career, goals, success, and responsibility.”

Moon in Pisces: “You feel vulnerable much of the time, and desperately wish for a partner who deeply understands you. It’s in your tenth house, meaning you find security and safety through career success and responsibility.”

Taurus Rising: “You give people the impression that you are reliable, settled, sensible, and deliberate, though sometimes stubborn.”

former hogwarts house: Gryffindor. Severus told her that she would be perfect for Slytherin; since he was her sole fount of information about the magical world before her letter arrived, Lily believed him. When she made the suggestion, however, the Hat laughed in her face–so to speak–and Lily’s immediate anger caused it to place her in Gryffindor. Though the Hat could have made a case for Ravenclaw easily enough, Lily’s instincts lie in loyalty and daring. The pluck that led her to argue vehemently with a sentient hat within seconds of making its acquaintance has served her well throughout her life.

sexuality: pansexual panromantic

gender/pronouns: cis female, she/her

face claim change: none!

more.

how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.

Strengths: Magnetic, kind, hardworking, selfless

Weaknesses: Selfish, obstinate, anxious, proud

Lily’s never been a failure at anything before. She has struggled, certainly; nothing has ever been easy, necessarily, or accomplished without effort. She has always been adept at identifying what was necessary to achieve her goals or tackle a problem. She’s the golden girl: compassionate, smart, hardworking. Even bigotry from being Muggleborn hardly phased her, except to strengthen her desire to fight back against the so-called “blood purists.” Lily is vivacious, empathetic, and convinced of her ideals–she married the love of her life, joined forces against the evil wizard trying to murder people like her, excitedly looked forward to her son’s birth.

There’s a reason she was given a place in Order recruitment: she’s gregarious and likeable, especially with the endearing pregnant belly and a baby ready to kick whenever a new palm pressed against her stomach. Being genuine and earnest has always come naturally to her, and it’s drawn people to her for her entire life, made some things easier than they might have been otherwise. It’s true that this has led her to take elements of her life for granted: finding a job post-graduation was easier due to Slughorn’s influence, and James’ family funds smoothed over her financial concerns when she discovered she was pregnant. She has experienced a considerable amount of bullying and bigotry, but because unconditional love and support has always existed in her life, Lily has developed a selfish streak. She expects the love to always exist–she expects to be able to find a solution to the problems she encounters–she expects to be capable of overcoming her struggles–and when these things fail to be true, she stumbles and grows resentful. Lily strives to better herself through acknowledging these tendencies whenever she finds them in herself and surrounding herself with people who aren’t afraid to call her out, people who challenge her and make her better (James and Marlene chief amongst them–without them, she indulges the introspection, finding herself unable to break the cycle of seeing the world through a specific filter designed by her life experiences).

She needs a project to focus on to keep her anxieties at bay; inactivity makes her fret over things she can’t control, and she’s never enjoyed an aimless lifestyle. Typically, these projects are exercises in discovering purpose, usually with a humanitarian angle or some sort of personal growth intention. When Lily finds something to focus on, she truly can make an impact; she is idealistic almost to a fault, having come from a Muggle world and introduced to a world of magic possibilities at an impressionable age. She believes strongly in making the world a better place and in her own ability to do so.

The way she is now is more accurately reflected below; the war has changed everything for Lily and she is, at present, a combination of the optimistic, driven woman who happens to be a wife and mother described here and the grieving, guilt-ridden widow and struggling mother described below.

how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

The Lily described above exists primarily in the shadows now. She’s not gone, not entirely, but she’s treading water in the shallows, while in the depths lurks a haunted woman with a sad smile and perpetually red-rimmed eyes. Every day, she wakes up in her worst nightmare and must push through the hours as if she isn’t rotting slowly from the inside.

She sees her life in flashes, like scenes of a book she’s read countless times. Moments blurred between chapters–how did she get from the tent to the house? Where did Harry get that toy? Is that voice she hears calling her name a faint memory of Marlene or is it actually Pandora trying to get her attention? Her grief casts a pall on everything, dampening any other emotions in her life.

Without James or Marlene, she has nothing and nobody left to rely on, her only living friends sunken in their own despair. Lily knows everyone is sensitive and this makes her wary of reaching out and burdening anyone else with her problems. They all praise her for “holding up so well” and pat her gently on the arm, like she might fly into pieces if they touch her too hard; it feels like everyone is holding her at arm’s length. Nobody wants to take responsibility for handling her emotional state, and she can’t be responsible for handling anyone else’s. She worries constantly, her emotional state strained without anything to focus her energies on: are they only allowing her to stay with them out of guilt? Do they care more about Harry, the prophesied one, than her? She was only part of the Order because of James–maybe that’s all she is to them. James’ widow.

She wonders if she has outlived her usefulness. She wants to help, but everything has changed in her life. Is she expected to just be the widow and single mother now? How much agency can she still have, now that everyone sees her differently? Will they listen to her opinions or give her a choice if she wants to leave? Will they take Harry from her if they feel she can’t protect him better than they can?

She feels she must keep up appearances of being the resilient, unflappable Lily Evans Potter she has always been, even without any of the supports that made that Lily possible. She wants the Order to be proud of her–she wants to keep being their golden girl–and she’s clinging desperately to all she has left. Her pride won’t let her ask anyone for help as long as she can see how much they are struggling, and her fear that she might lose what little she has left won’t let her admit that she is falling apart.

where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? Why?

Lily wants to fight. She always imagined herself going down swinging, James at her back, taking down their killers with them. They were young and the war seemed more like a game back then.

If she didn’t have Harry, it would be an easy answer: get back in the fray, find the rest of the Order, track down any survivors who might join their cause now that the Death Eaters have made their stance on murder clear. Lily has never been one to sit and wait. Even while heavily pregnant she insisted on being involved, even if it was just in recruitment. She’s of the opinion that now is the best time to band together, recruit in a frenzy, and strike back while Voldemort is least expecting it–they might be weak now but so is he, and the Death Eaters might be cowed by a show of force from the organization they thought was beaten. To stop now would be to admit defeat.

That said, she’s also scared. Staying in the Hollow isn’t a long-term option, obviously, but going back into the fight means risking the little they have left. A second blow to their ranks could be the last; if they can’t find more survivors, if their forces don’t grow, then that’s the end of the war. The Death Eaters rule through fear and if they’re not stopped, they could continue their massacre in another town, maybe a Muggle one this time.

And now she has Harry to think of, and this godforsaken prophecy that cost James his life, nearly took Harry the way they got the Longbottom boy. Recruitment, at least, seems like the safest option to move them in the right direction: toward rebuilding and fighting anew.

How is Lily coping with being a new mother in the midst of a war?

She never really planned to be a mother. It seemed inevitable, of course, once she committed to marrying James; a natural trajectory of being in that kind of a relationship. But she didn’t really plan for it–she didn’t want kids the same way James did. Oh, of course she wanted children with him, but when she pictured it, it was always in peacetime–and she was always much older. And then she was pregnant, suddenly, and James was transported with happiness, so she had to keep it, and then she and the baby became a unit: a source of hope and new life amidst the threat of war. Her pregnant belly was a buoy keeping their heads above water, and everyone wanted to touch her, like she was some witch Madonna bringing a messiah into their world. If she thought too hard about it, it was disconcerting, but she didn’t think too much about it–she had enough to think about just preparing for the baby to arrive.

James was a better parent than her, or at least a more natural one. Lily admired how easy fatherhood was for him; while she struggled with postpartum depression and the necessary change in her priorities, he willingly shouldered as much parental responsibility as he physically could. She loved Harry, loved being his mother, but she had to struggle to find that love. James, Marlene, and eventually Molly Weasley worked to convince her that she was not a failure as a mother, and eventually she believed them.

And then they were all gone, and all the things she learned about parenting seemed to disappear from her mind the moment James left her side. She had no idea how to be a mother–especially not a single one. Muscle memory seems to take over much of the time, and maternal instinct fills in the gaps, but Lily struggles most with keeping her emotions in check enough to prioritize Harry. Sometimes he reminds her so much of James that she can hardly stand to look at him, and sometimes she is so overwhelmed by the grief that permeates Godric’s Hollow now that she can’t bring herself to let him go when he squirms. The routine that she relied on is gone, and she struggles to establish a new one, to deal with Harry’s distress every time he asks for James and she can’t explain to him that Dada is gone forever. When she desperately needs a break, she can arrange for someone to babysit, but the moment he is out of her sight a panic grips her chest–her nightmares are of Voldemort reappearing in the Hollow with James’ dead body at his feet, Harry dangling, lifeless, in his grip.

The worst part is that she still can’t shake the desire to maintain appearances. Everyone thinks she is so brave, so resilient: she can’t let them know she’s a terrible mother and falling apart at the seams. As long as Harry is happy and healthy, they’ll never notice the weight she’s losing, the hesitation when she talks, the red rims around her eyes that never fade. By sheer force of will, Lily will prove to everyone and herself that she is strong enough to get through this.

extra.

Pinboard: https://pin.it/tvyj7td56b5ave

Relationships with others:

Marlene: The love of her life, James notwithstanding. The one woman Lily thought she would always be able to rely on. Even now, she struggles to speak of her best friend in the past tense, catching herself mid-sentence in the mistake; sometimes she still thinks she can see Marlene entering or exiting a room, only to realize it was actually Charity or Pandora with the light catching their hair just right. Marlene kept her bright and optimistic–lifted her head up even when she was in the depths of postpartum depression. James was her counterpart, but Marlene was her North Star.

Remus: With James and Marlene gone, Remus is the closest friend Lily has left. He has always been one of her closest confidants–the first person she trusted at Hogwarts after watching Severus join the table of green and silver. True, he became more James’ friend than hers over the years, but she appreciates how steadfast a friend he has been more than she can say. When she tried to push him away, he refused in a patient sort of way. She knows he is struggling, and she hates herself for not doing a better job of supporting him.

Sirius: Lily is afraid of him. She’s always loved him like her brother–or, rather, she’s loved him like James’ brother, because she has always relied on James to bridge the gap in her relationship with Sirius. They agreed, together, to make Sirius godfather, but right now, she doesn’t feel comfortable leaving Harry alone with him. This Sirius isn’t the same one she used to trust with her son’s life.

Alice: Oh, the guilt–it’s strongest when she looks at Alice. They were never really friends to begin with, and now Lily feels responsible for Alice’s grief. She can’t bring herself to make eye contact with the other woman, and she always self-consciously grabs up Harry if they are ever in the same room as her, stops him from getting too close. Seeing Alice’s steep decline into grief and the ensuing marital problems makes Lily feel lucky for still having her son–but then miserable for not being a better mother to him. Perhaps, she finds herself wondering, things would have been better if they’d gotten to Harry instead of Neville; at least Alice and Frank planned to have their son. Maybe they deserved to keep him more than she deserved to keep Harry.

Frank: She avoids him, as she does Alice, but for different reasons. Frank is fueled by vengeance, same as Sirius, and that scares her. But he doesn’t have the same emptiness that Alice seems to; his search for answers seems at least vaguely productive, and she wonders if maybe she could lend her efforts to helping him. If she could ever overcome her guilt about Harry’s survival, she might even offer someday.

Arthur: She wants to get closer to him, and she certainly has the opportunity, since Harry often plays with his sons, but Lily was more in contact with Molly than him and doesn’t even recall a single time she was left alone in a room with him before James’ death. She’s intimidated by someone who handles all those children so deftly, without complaint, and she’s afraid that he’s going to judge her for her inadequacies as a parent.

if I were…

if i were a season, i’d be fall.

if i were a time of day, i’d be midday–a few minutes past noon, when the sun is at its hottest and the world is at its brightest.

if i were a type of weather, i’d be a brisk wind.

if i were a scent, i’d be a garden in full bloom, blossoms open and full, the mixture of scents of the various flowers almost overwhelming.

if i were a plant, i’d be an orange lily.

if i were an element, i’d be fire, dependent on a counterpart to stay alive.

if i were a color, i’d be blood orange.

if i were a song, i’d be “Wish that You Were Here” by Florence + the Machine.

if i were an item of clothing, i’d be a headband.

if i were an object, i’d be a quill.

if i were one of the seven deadly sins, i’d be pride.

if i were one of the seven heavenly virtues, i’d be kindness.

if i were a god/goddess, i’d be Nike/Victoria.

The Candlelight Vigil

She could have used Harry as an excuse not to attend. Past his bedtime–really much easier if we keep him on a schedule—he’s too young to understand and might ruin it—Lily rehearsed several versions of the conversation she planned to open with Charity. When it came down to it, though, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not attending would probably bring more attention to her grief than she liked; suffering in private seemed so self-indulgent amidst the public signs of mourning that existed everywhere in the Hollow. At least at the vigil she would be expected to grieve. If it was more than she could endure, she could always leave early and it would be dark enough that nobody would demand an explanation. She should at least try.

It was late for Harry, of course, but he was delighted by the nighttime activity and the flickering lights and if she couldn’t keep him from talking he at least acquiesced to her request he keep his voice to a stage whisper. Lily didn’t expect to feel closure tonight, but the sense of community that the vigil sparked was enough. They might be all that was left of the Order, but they were enough to keep it going. To honor James’ and Marlene’s sacrifice.

Harry fell asleep on her shoulder before too long so she left early, quietly thanking Charity on her way out, walking slowly lest she jostle him too much. Glenda’s voice cut through the blanketed sobriety of the nighttime air and Harry awoke with a cry. She was too far away to hear everything clearly but Lily hurried back to the cemetery the instant the broadcast ended. Another headquarters? Did that mean Glenda knew about this one and would send people to them, like she (inadvertently) had sent Greta? Good news? Could some of the presumed dead still be alive?

The chatter and speculation was unbearable, especially when Harry began to cry, a toddler roused far past his bedtime too upset to be soothed back to sleep anywhere other than a bed. Tearing herself away from the feverish conversation should have been easy—but even as her head spun and ached Lily felt the adrenaline pumping through the night. Who had Glenda found?

[acuppellarp]

Welcome (back!) to A Cup-pella, Ace! We’re excited to have you and Aria Abrams in the game! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours.

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Ace + She/Her/It Age: 32 Timezone: CST Ships: Ari/R&B soundtrack playlists, Ari/Chem Anti-Ships:Ari/Being Ignored

IC INFO

Full Name: Ariana Noelle Abrams Face Claim: Alexandra Daddario Age/Birthday: 24 / November 19th Occupation: Writer/Director/Creator The Untitled Abrams Project/Assistant at A24 Films Personality: passionate, silly, stubborn, creative, insecure, awkward, empathetic Hometown: East Cleveland, OH Bio: Ariana Noelle Abrams was something of a quiet child. Since birth, she hardly ever cried. Though she was very happy, the permanent smile didn’t stop the worry her parents held. She seemed content to play alone but both her mother and father hoped she’d grow out of that. Their miracle baby was destined to be their only baby, so they tried to walk that fine line of protective versus overbearing. One day the small family of three were sitting in front of the television when a commercial came on with dancers and some form of pop-hiphop song. A teeny three year old Ari jumped from her seated position on the floor and began to dance along. She laughed and moved to the music, and even as the commercial faded into the program they’d been watching the little girl kept moving. Dance it was, her mother thought.

Ballet was the first choice that came to Evelyn Abram’s mind, but she quickly learned that tights and tutus were not Ari’s idea of fun. On a long walk through the dance studio, it was her daughter who informed her of just what type of dance she wanted to do. Ari was stopped in her tracks by the sound of the heavy base and rhythm. The little girl squealed in excitement before taking it upon herself to run into the class they definitely hadn’t signed her up for.  Ari began taking hip hop dance lessons the next afternoon, suddenly the once seemingly shy girl became filled with light. Her personality began to shine through. It warmed her mother’s heart honestly, even if she didn’t understand the ‘hip jams’.

Ari always held her own in a diverse sea of dancers, and she was respected for her skills, which meant the world to her. She was honestly very talented, and she worked her little butt off. Her instructors began to notice and suggested competitions for the young girl to enter whenever one they knew Ari would be interested in came up. She was a regular face on the Ohio competition trail, and even if she didn’t always win, she always stood out and had a blast. Three days after her tenth birthday, with her third place trophy in hand, Ariana sat in the back seat of her mother’s car singing along to Beyonce’s crazy in love. That’s the last thing she remembered before waking up in the hospital, unable to move her legs.

Not only did Ari have to begin to learn to maneuver life without the full use of her legs, but she also had to deal with her family being uprooted. Turned out her father’s insurance didn’t cover as much as they would have hoped, and the medical bills started to pile up. Noah Abrams made the decision to move his family to NYC for a better job opportunity. It was more than most kids could handle all at once, and at first Ari didn’t handle it. She fell back into her silence, she’d lost the voice that dance help give her. She in that chair unmoving staring at the television, most days, until her mother had enough. Evelyn took her little girl on a stroll, they talked and they cried and they watched the sunset together. Ari only wished she’d had a camera to capture the yellow and orange waves.

Things slowly but surely began to get better for Ari. She still loved dance and music and she and her mom came up with ways to continue to be involved in that world. She found her dads old video camera and started a little business, recording dancer’s audition videos. It was bitter sweet but the sweet always won out. Once Ariana got a little older and was able to get around the city better her business grew, she was recording all the special moments in the lives of people who could afford a professional camera crew. It was one of her few friends who suggested finding a way to put her own written work on camera. And Ari, of course, thought that was a grand idea.

Comics sort of saved Ari when she was feeling her worst. Getting lost in worlds where people could go from ordinary to extraordinary with a simple spider bite. She imagined herself, the hero, flying through the sky saving the damsel in distress. It wasn’t long before imagining became full on written works. Her first original film, The Adventures of Calico, had her putting a cape on her family cat, and filming her fending off GI Joe in Barbie’s honor. A regular masterpiece.

Ariana wrote and filmed her way right through high school, where she collected a couple of like minded outcast friends along the way. And that hard work and creative exploration got her an acceptance letter from Columbia University’s Film School. She was able to make art in the city she loved most in the world (not that she’d been many other places but still) and study under some of the most well respected in the film world. It was all just a load of fun.

Now Aria has a BA, a butt load of student loans, a pretty successful web series and she truly had hold of her voice. The American dream. Calico 2 to hit theaters in 2025.

Pets: N/A

EXTRA INFO

[ This is for the masterlist, but also a fun little way to get to know your character! ]

Ari Bombostic /@Rollinwmyhomies/ I make the movies and I make the ladies smile. The former I do on purpose the latter generally on accident but I take it anyways. Call me Director Abrams

Five latest tweets:

@Rollinwmyhomies: Yooooo I’m holding auditions for a very special project must be human and able to make chicken tacos. HMU if youre interested

@Rollinwmyhomies: Nikons are so pretentious *pulls out my bomb ass Nikon*

@Rollinwmyhomies: I just popped a wheelie in Time Square. I’m ready for wheelchair basketball finales!

@Rollinwmyhomies: Call my Ari, but I honestly don’t understand the saying Have your cake and it too. Because don’t you have your cake, then eat it? That’s how that works.

@Rollinwmyhomies: Who’s mouth is watering for The Birds of Prey movie ✋

[noussommeslessquelettes]

queenofdenials replied to your post: OMG OMG! IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY TODAY TOO? Are we...

THANK YOU!! although my actual birthday is april 10 but due to timezones overlapping well… maybe not so twins lol but regardless! I hope you wishes come true! ��

‘s all good, I was named after my grandfather who was born on the tenth so like.... still almost twins??? 

also I fixed it

[vcanity]

* ╰    ( SOFIA CARSON )   ┋   have you met  EMMA  VANITY     ?     she reminds me of   (   stained lips,  neatly folded clothes,  that first bite of mint gum,  unintentional resting bitch face,  trust issues,  thinking up perfect comebacks on the spot,  loving deeply but always doubting you deserve it because maybe,  just maybe,  you’re not good enough   )   .   a   twenty  one   year old   TENTH   year   SLYTHERIN   ,   the  heel   is known to be   (   loyal  &  ambitious   )   ,    yet    (   devious  &  callous   )   .   that explains why they’re majoring in   QUIDDITCH  STUDIES   .   rumour has it   ,   emma   is siding with   THE  DEATH  EATERS   in the solemn war that blazes just beyond the horizon  .

alright  ,  so  i’m  a  little  late  to  the  party   ,   but  my  name  is  danvers    ,    i’m  in  the  pst  timezone    ,    &    i’m  comin’  at  cha  with  a  darker  muse    !     i’ve  played  her  before  but  i’m  excited  to  explore  her  as  a  bit  older    ?    alright   ,   strap  in  your  seat  belt  bc  i’m  bout  to  send  you  down  a  long  and  winding  road    .   aka  i  might  have  went  too  hard  with  this  intro  .

HER  PAST

emma  mariela�� vanity  was  the  only  child  to  edward   &   athelia  vanity  .  for  this  reason  alone  ,  emma  was  taught  to  hold  her  head  high  and  keep  her  back  straight  .  everything  about  her  childhood  was  luxury  and  appearances .  there  was  little  time  for  love  and  affection  in  a  household  so  cold  as  the  vanity’s  .

so  everything  about  her  was  immaculate  .  from  the  soft  black  curls  that  cascaded  down  her  shoulders  to  the  perfectly  presented  hem  of  her  robes  ;  she  was  elegance  and  poise .  everything  a  pureblood  was  supposed  to  be .  more  so  ,  everything  her  father  demanded  she  be  .  his  voice  unfailingly  low  and  temperament  final  .  she  hated  it  right  down  to  her  core  ,  but  still  ,  emma  vanity  glistened  like  a  sapphire  among  poisoned  apples  ,  because  that  was  what  her  parents  surely  were  ,  poison.

she  grew  up  to  be  the  obedient  daughter  despite  wanting  to  be  everything  but  .  her  thoughts  were  a  conundrum  ;  wishing  to  defy  her  fathers  restrictions  ,  but  never  quite  having  the  deafening  voice  to  .   &    with  that  ,  emma  became  accustomed  to  the  frilly  pureblood  dinner  parties  the vanity’s  would  throw  .  was  used  to  the  way  her  parents  would  parade  her  around  their  friends  like  she  was  their  prized  possession  ;  polished  and  perfect .  despite  dreading  such  gatherings  most  of  her  adolescent  life ,  emma  became  drawn  to  it  and  in  time  her  families  values  were  etched  into  her  skin  .

when  her  time  at  hogwarts  came  around  ,  emma  experienced  her  first  sense  of  comradery  .  slytherin  welcomed  her  with  roars  of  applause  and  it  was  no  surprise  that  she  would  belong  to  the  house  of  salazar  slytherin  .  life  as  a  first  year  was  painful ,  as  she  wanted  so  deeply  to  be  kind  ,  but  was  greeted  with  contrasting  advice  from  older  housemates .  their  influence  was  heavy  and  she  had  no  choice  but  to  conform .  and  so  she  found  herself  once  again  being  put  into  a  conundrum .  however ,  this  time  she  gave  in .

emma  vanity  quickly  found  herself  being  molded  into  the  box  her  parents  so  desperately  demanded  .  no  longer  the  vigilant  girl  to  the  vanity’s  pretenses ,  but  a  more  refined  and  cunning  woman  .  her  tongue  sharp  and  nails  even  sharper  .   --- but  if  one  were  to  look  close  enough  ,  they’d  see  the  glow  of  playfulness  that  never  quite  seemed  to  escape  her  eyes .  hidden  away  ,  locked  deep  so  no  one  could  see  the  soft  spark  that  laid  dormant  .  her  adolescence  was  wiped  clean  as  stained  pools  of  bitterness  were  engulfed  instead .  she  became  harsher , devious  ,  and  more  calculating .

flying  was  her  escape  .  her  quidditch  robes  and  thick  boots  were  her  solace  ;  broom  flying  at  such  defining  heights  that  no  judgments  could  be  heard .  she  did  not  have  to  conform  or  be  whatever  mirroring  image  the  world  expected  from  her .  her  love  for  the  sport  greatly  showed  as  she  was  slytherins  prized  chaser  .  voice  delicate  but  firm ,  fingers  strong  enough  to  clutch  any  quaffle  being  hurled  in  the  air .  it  was  her  one  and  only  true  love .  it  was  no  surprise  she’d  later  become  slytherin’s  captain  .

she  was  a  diamond  in  a  coal  mine .  students  either  avoided  her  like  the  plague  or  flocked  around  her  in  awe  .  though  she  hopelessly  tried  to  conceal  her  feelings  ,  she  could  not  mask  her  affections  for  the  same  sex  .  this  secret  was  brought  to  light  her  fifth  year  after  a  drunken  encounter  with  a  vixen ,  but  it  was  never  a  regret .  tenderness  and  devotion  is  hard  for  the  slytherin  to  come  by  and  may  never  truly  experience  .  her  parents  failed  to  show  her  what  a  healthy  marriage  looked  like  ,  so  was  it  really  her  fault  that  she  couldn’t  imagine  such  a  fate  ?   of  course  not  .

LIFE  NOW

older  and  far  more  witted  ,  emma  knows  what  is  expected  of  her  .  join  the  winning  side   (   the  death  eaters  no  doubt  !   )   and  bring  honor  to  her  family’s  name  .  she  is  after  all  the  obedient   &   prized  possession  of  the  vanity’s  .  doing  what  her  father  advises  is  all  she  knows  .  it  seems  her  own  opinions  are  void  ,  so  she  keeps  her  own  thoughts  to  herself  .  never  speaking  out  of  turn  for  the  sheer  trepidation  that  she’ll  be  punished  .

still  even  as  a  tenth  year  ,  her  thoughts  are  perplexing  .  her  soul  isn’t  fully  lost  ,  at  least  not  yet  .   she  see’s  the  bigotry  behind  blood  purity   &   the  unfairness  that  comes  with  it  ,  but  would  never  actually  voice  it  .  maybe  if  she  was  behind  closed  doors  and  the  right  person  came  along  . . .  then  maybe  she  would  ask  her  questions  . 

emma’s  personality  is  complicated  .  she's  incredibly  loyal  to  her  slytherin  housemates   &   to  anyone  else  she's  let  inside  her  walls  ,  but  to  those  of  lesser  blood  or  status ,  she’s  pretty  cruel  .  most  of  it  is  just  for  show   (  remember  appearances  are  everything  to  her   )   .  deep  deep  down  though  ,  she  still  has  that  childlike  glint  in  her  eyes  that  begs  to  come  out  .  i  repeat  ,  she  isn’t  fully  lost  !!   she’s  just  been  taught  to  be  snotty  and  vain  to  anyone  of  lesser  blood  .  and  honestly  ,  she  feels  a  great  deal  of  regret  bc  of  it  .  she  was  molded  into  this  angry   &   callous  girl  .   like  ,  if  you  can  imagine  growing  up  and  having  everyone  around  you  telling  you  to  be  this  way  and  that  ,  she  just  gave  in  .  it  was  her  self  fulfilling  prophecy  and  i  lowkey  cry  about  it .