#just an apparition of a tumblr user

[clairesalcedo]

Neverwhere

Hi, I do still exist. I lurk. Been lurking for a long time now. For some reason, years ago, I lost a lot of my will to internet actively. I think the most I post is every few months on Instagram. It does make me sad - I wish I could be as active and consistent on here as I used to be. Maybe it’ll come back to me again, at some point? 

But, I have seen the new polls feature, and I can guarantee you, if I get it, I will be desperate to create/play a choose your own adventure game with anybody who’ll join me. Kind of like being the mom friend can circumvent your anxiety when you and your just-as-anxious-as-you friend group is trying to order food, apparently, choose your own adventure games are spoon short cuts. 

[see-arcane]

Meward

Summary: Within the mad and macabre months caught in Dracula's fangs, we have seen wolves and bats and rats forced to work toward evil results.

Now let's see the difference a cat can make.

For a proper visual for the eponymous Meward, head to Tumblr user @myroomismytardis' amazing blog and take a look at all the cat-ified characters from classic literature on display. Jack Meward, the little black cat with the gigantic eyes, is just one of many fine furry friends in The League of Extraordinary Kittyfolk. Thank you for making such an inspiring design, friend.

Ao3 link here

“Intolerable, unacceptable, and utterly, irrevocably insufferable. That’s you, you pretender. Yes, I said it! Pretender! Fraud! The most insidiously false example of your kind there ever was or will be! No, don’t you dare deny it. These last few weeks have been more than proof enough that you are entirely unsuited to the task required, to say nothing of your whole line. Nay, your full genus. And look at you there gloating! As if you were as proud to disappoint your bloodline as much as me! You little cad!”

Dr. John Seward had been standing outside the door with two attendants for the past five minutes listening to this and similar diatribes concerning some unknown traitor to a joint cause. There had been insults flung their way and apparent insults implied in silence as the man scoffed and gasped over his affronted sensibilities, stalking the room as he did. So far there had been rants and rancor and richest ire thrown about in such a way as to make the most churlish heirs pale before their fathers. Indeed, there was such a lilt to Renfield’s aggravation that it spoke of an almost paternal disappointment. He had worked and he had slaved and reared this unknown other up with his own two hands, and for what? Disobedience! Abuse! Mockery!

And so the ramble would circle around again.

John passed a glance to the men bookending the other side of the doorframe as if he might read an explanation on their faces. But no, his own confusion was reflected there. It was a strange twist in a madman already so full of sporadic facets, but this one doubly so for its seeming divergence from the major habits of his illness. Whether he was plying John for bait and animals to feast on for power’s sake or hailing the sudden religious apparition he had crowned with the imagined ability to bestow nameless gifts, there appeared to be a central focus on acquiring new strength for himself as constant motive. An impetus that always involved turning his gaze upward to cozen or coax for boons.

Now here he was inventing some entity to berate; an accomplice responsible for deceiving him or spoiling some goal outright. It wouldn’t be an entirely shocking result in other patients. Even ordinary prisoners of long sentences were known to either seek out or manifest some subordinate other to exercise authority over. But Renfield, he of the legion of flies, spiders, and birds, oh my, was already a veritable Cronus lording over a throng of tiny lives at his mercy. Perhaps he’d assigned some personification to one them..?

But no. That way laid the issue of many a new farmer or butcher who found themselves abruptly unable to take the blade to whatever livestock they’d made the mistake of naming and petting as they fattened.

“Look at this!” Renfield suddenly barked, stomping his way to another corner of the room. “Just look how simple I made it for you! Sitting there, whole and ready, and still you go for only a sip and nibble of what’s brought in the other way! Disgraceful. Wholly disgraceful. What? Oh, don’t you pretend it’s a matter of inability. You’re well past drinking alone. Yet even with what you’ve gained, still, still you are a mere mote. A speck. A crumb among the veritable giants that slink and prowl so efficiently on their lonesome. I could flick you right back out, do you know that? I could! You are that laughable a specimen!”

Renfield stalked and stomped and huffed. Then, in a conspiring tone:

“In fact, I will. I will flick you out. But not by the way you slunk in, oh no. You’ll not break in again, you cheat, you burglar of time and effort. There are authorities about who can deal with you in expert fashion. You are evicted as of today. Oh? Think I’m bluffing?” There was a sudden pounding against Renfield’s side of the door, so quick and heavy it rattled the thing in its frame. “Doctor! Get Dr. Seward here at once! There is an intruder in my room! Doctor!”

The attendants looked to him. John nodded. When they unlocked the door, Renfield was in his usual safe distance from the threshold, his arms crossed in a manner that seemed more fitting for a landlord smug at the sight of the police coming to remove an itinerant tenant.

“Well, what fair timing that you were passing by.”

“So it was. I heard you have someone here you want to be rid of?”

“Most expediently. I have tried, Dr. Seward. Most earnestly and most fruitlessly I have tried to wring the results and compliance I’d hoped for from this lost cause of a fellow inmate, but I can try no more. The cause with him is hopeless because he is hopeless. Mad I may be, but at least before him I did not suffer the madness of one trying to grow a tree from a beansprout or, more aptly, trying to yield a full harvest from a field of salt. If ever there was an entity made on this Earth who could order their very anatomy to be an instrument of sabotage, it is the preening villain who has imposed on my hospitality and patience.

“Weeks! Nearly an entire month I have tried to make progress with the thing, and I’ve barely an ounce of proof to show for it on him! And his stubbornness! His stubbornness, or else sheer weak-willed cowardice in the face of instinct, has frustrated me as I never thought possible for so insignificant a creature to inflict! I cannot tolerate his presence any longer and I plead, no, demand you excise the lout before I am forced to take my own measures.”

John nodded cautiously at this. Inwardly he was ticking over the possible responses he might have to make to appease the man without sparking some new fury. Did he expect them to pantomime carrying out an invisible intruder? If so, where were they meant to grapple the air? It was as John was pondering this that his eye happened to fall upon two glints of color shining under Renfield’s bed. A pair of emeralds twinkling in shadow.

“Renfield—,”

But his patient had followed his gaze already. With a mix of triumph and irritation, the man darted down and swiped at the dark. Then plucked a piece of the dark away as if scooping up a ball of cinders. The cinders mewed thinly.

“Ah, thought you could hide from your ousting, did you? Think again. This is the criminal himself, Dr. Seward. A thief of potential and promise and, as you can see, a clear failure as a cat. Look!”

With his other hand he gestured to the corner of the cell nearest to the door. A freshly dead bird laid there. As did a small saucer that looked to be of the kind used for the patients’ meals, with some bits of nibbled food still present.

“Again and again, he chooses the plate over the prey! I tried only giving him birds, but he refused anything more than a sniff before he went sulking and starving away. I had no choice but to suffer his spoiled wants and feed him from my own meals or else lose the opportunity entirely. An opportunity that was itself a lie. He is too small, Dr. Seward, and he seems determined to remain so despite my best efforts. Even if he were a veritable rugby ball of a cat it would not matter, for he has no lives in him but his own useless nine! Oh, I know, I know, you will say, ‘But he is only a kitten, Renfield, growth takes time, Renfield, even stray cats will turn to scraps before they deign to hunt, Renfield!’ I tell you, he is an exception. He conspires, Dr. Seward. With his own body, he conspires. I shall suffer him no more.” Then, in a voice so small John almost did not catch the addendum that seemed almost to choke him, “I cannot risk it.”

Before he could register it, John found Renfield had cut the distance between them and thrust the tiny handful into his custody. The attendants tensed to act behind him, but Renfield shot just as quickly away to make a show of glowering out the window with his back to the lot of them. His arms were crossed again and his hands gripped his elbows so tightly they shook.

“Take him away, Doctor. Foist him on some pampering lady or other with room in her reticule for the ridiculous little thing. I wash my hands of him.”

“…Of course. I’ll see what I can do. Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Renfield.” The kitten gawped up at him. Then tried to turn and wriggle to face Renfield. Another half-mute mew escaped. Renfield bristled at the sound.

“Get it away, Doctor. Please.” John gestured to the attendants. They all retreated into the hall, locking the door after them. Almost the instant the bolt slid home, there was another shout, “Dr. Seward! Doctor, are you still there? There is one thing more! It’s important!”

“Yes, I’m still here,” he called through the door. “What is it?”

Then, quite clearly, so that the attendants could hear it too and only half-succeed in stifling their grins when they caught it: “His name is Meward.”

“…Pardon?”

“Meward. Doctor Meward in full, but we know each other well enough to dispense with titles.” John would swear he heard a smile in the man’s voice. “That’s all, Doctor.”

This was, naturally, not all.

Not when word of ‘Dr. Meward’ had circulated first through the staff, then the patients, and even to the occasional visitor to the asylum before the week was out. For reasons that defied logic, Dr. Seward found he did not have the heart—or, more pressingly, the appropriate opportunity—to donate the creature to another caretaker. He had thought perhaps there was a chance that Lucy might take him on. It really was a spectacularly pitiful animal and so was prone to pulling heartstrings with the power of his massive evergreen stare.

In fact, he had expected himself fully in the clear when he made a somewhat red-faced return to the Westenra estate in tow with Arthur and Quincey. Lucy, at first showing a slight pale strain under the ruddy vigor she had shown on their last encounter, had bloomed anew with delight on seeing the scanty mound of fur in his palm. Her jubilation doubled on hearing the creature’s regrettably unchanged name.

“Oh, that is a perfect choice, absolutely perfect!” she cooed as she cradled the bundle now purring in her hands. “He’s got much the same eyes as you, John.” But as soon as the compliment dared to light a blaze in his cheeks, her next words doused it: “I do wish I could keep him all to myself, but my mother always falls into hacking fits around cats. I’m afraid I can’t have him here.” She looked plaintively from Meward to John to Arthur. “Maybe..?”

“The dogs are amiable enough,” Arthur admitted, if sheepishly. “Though they’d need to get acclimated. They have a habit of chasing after any little thing that moves. But I’m sure once they got used to each other it would work out well enough.” An unspoken, ‘Maybe,’ hovered at the end of his words and glowed doubtfully in his face.

It was much the same as Quincey’s expression had been when he admitted, “Well, sure, I had a few old mouser cats as a boy. Only, I don’t claim to know anything about raising a kitten. I wouldn’t trust myself not to botch it, Jack.”

Regardless of these snags, Lucy spent the visit thoroughly enraptured with Meward to the point that she took one of her own hair ribbons off her head for him to play with. Once he’d tired of it, he allowed her to fasten the thing about him as a collar.

“You can’t have him going around bare, John. Otherwise they won’t know he’s anything but a stray. You must get him a proper collar soon.”

John had promised to look into it.

Some short and endless months later, the ribbon would remain. Meward would be too fond of it to let it go. Likewise for John.

But that was for later.

For now, John had to reconcile with his tiny shadow. More, with the unignorable fact that his presence seemed to have a positive effect upon the atmosphere of the asylum. Almost irritatingly so. What had begun as him simply running out of friends to trust with the animal, combined with his not having any personal home staff to entrust with the minding of him on top of household duties, was now a matter of ‘improving morale.’ So he languishingly informed his phonograph. Whether in his office or in the hall, Meward’s perching on a shoulder or chasing his feet seemed at once to quell anything from ire to melancholy to simple boredom in onlookers.

Often with shouted cries of, ‘Afternoon, Dr. Meward. And associate.’ Or else just, ‘Hello, Doctors,’ always nodding first to the kitten. Renfield appeared to be in much repaired spirits upon catching wind of this, now demanding to speak with ‘his’ doctor before offering any word to John.

“Ah, see?” he hummed to Meward as the animal stared at him. “Is it not wise that I shooed you from your lacking status as a failed catalyst for my purposes? Clearly your chicanery has endeared you to the medical profession.” Renfield gestured broadly at John. “You even have your own nurse.”

The obvious jab did not land as well as it might have on an earlier date. He had too much of curiosity and worry for the man to feel any real brunt of insult now. From the increasingly wild swings in his mood to the lapses of haunted lucidness, R.M. Renfield now stood nearly even with John’s distress for Lucy’s condition. Though if even a fraction of Arthur’s worry proved as true as his latest message implied, his own worry was due to triple. Laconic though Quincey may be, it was Arthur who was the fellow of infinitely fewer words in their trio. Whenever he deigned to offer a phrase in speech or text, it mattered. For the moment, he shelved such thinking in favor of his patient who sought to agitate to hide agitation.

“And have you anything you wished to share with doctor or nurse tonight, Renfield? You seemed upset over something from what the attendants implied—,”

“No!” Renfield gnawed his tongue so hard that it bled. He sucked at it, his face convulsing between exultation and concern. “No. I was mistaken. Or, no, I cannot say. And I cannot say why I cannot say. Never mind.” He gnawed, sucked, paced. Meward turned his owlish gaze up to John. A small paw swung gingerly at his mouth while his tongue flicked out and tapped his black nose. As he did, a whiff of briny breath puffed out on the air. Memory prickled. John cleared his throat.

“I’ve discovered something he likes to hunt. Other than bootlaces and pens.”

Renfield slowed in his pacing.

“Oh? What is that?” He cast a sidelong glance at Meward, who paused in his assault on John’s lapel to gape back. “He certainly doesn’t look much bigger. Though I suppose his coat is better.”

“As it should be. He’s taken a liking to fish.” He coaxed Meward’s claws out of his shirt collar and moved him to another hand. “It’s only an occasional treat, but he seems to be aware enough of where it comes from that I have caught him trying to prey on market displays of seafood when we’re out. Which I believe shows a clever choice on his part. Marine life is consistently healthier for the plate than any cattle or pork. And,” he was careful not to look directly at Renfield, but in a nigh scheming way into Meward’s eye, “they are almost always bloated with the nutrition of animals they’ve eaten prior to finding themselves in the fisherman’s net.”

Renfield’s pacing slowed to a stop.

“Is that a fact?”

“It is. I don’t often go poking beyond the edges of medical sciences, but recent reading from a French naturalist, Professor Pierre Aronnax, has been most illuminating. While hardly all of the ocean’s livestock are carnivorous, the bulk of sea life we collect for our own dinner is redolent with underwater hunters of little lives versus the farmland’s bevy of coddled cows, pigs, and hens.” He still did not look up any higher than Renfield’s frozen feet or Meward’s glistening stare. “Which is all without mentioning the miracle a man devours whole every time he treats himself to a crustacean. Lobsters especially. Not only are they fellow omnivores, but this Aronnax fellow theorizes that they may have properties suggesting an extraordinary longevity. It is only a hypothesis, he writes, but he believes that if the creatures are left to their devices without a fatal attack by a predator, they can live well over a hundred years.”

“Do you take me for a child?” Renfield snorted. “I am well grown out of such fairy tales as immortal beasts. Especially supposed immortals one can boil and set on a platter with a side of butter sauce.”

“Not immortal, simply endowed with an anatomy that lasts longer than the expected norm. I found it a strange supposition myself, but he makes a fair case, especially in tandem with the examples he’s put forth in the article—,”

“What article would that be? Some journal of quackery? You must not believe everything you read, Doctor.”

“I don’t. I only thought it an interesting concept, and one with impressive enough evidences that it was worth wondering about. Imagine tucking into a bit of shellfish only for taste’s sake, not realizing you were eating an animal who might have had more than a man’s whole lifetime ahead of it before you swallowed it all down. It is almost sad to picture.”

“Yes. Terribly.” Renfield fidgeted another moment. From the corner of his eye, John saw he was eyeing the window suspiciously. Perhaps searching. Apparently satisfied, the man donned one of his more familiar sycophant performances, sidling near enough that the attendants stood up straighter. Then, “Again, Dr. Seward, what article might you refer to? I am certain it will at least be good for a laugh and it would be such a welcome diversion from the usual softcover twaddle I flip through…”

John provided a copy of Aronnax’s piece a quarter of an hour later. That morning, he heard that Renfield’s latest crop of spiders had disappeared—flung out the window in a skittering spray that nearly scared a pedestrian out of their wits when a harvestman landed on his shoe. Not long after, Renfield had started wheedling the attendants to ask the kitchen if there wasn’t any seafood to come on the menu. Summer’s seasonable window was well past, he knew, but he had just now been struck with a terrible craving for seaside cuisine. He would trade every spider in the world for a crabcake and every bird for a lobster tail.

Hearing this, John had looked to Meward. The kitten had his own paperwork to ponder on the desk now; quite blank, but he refused to leave John, his forms, his pen, or his beleaguered hand alone until he had his own work to attend to. His unblinking eyes lifted up to find John’s.

“My thanks for the consultation, Doctor.” He set down his pen. Taking the sign, Meward trotted across the desk and bunched himself up under his palm. “A brilliant idea.” Meward purred his agreement.

A note was made to make inquiries as to budget and ability in getting the kitchen a stock of fresh seafood. He would see to it once this trouble with Lucy was taken care of.

Lucy’s trouble was taken care of. Twice.

R.M. Renfield’s only once.

It was not until after the Harkers’ trouble was seen to—this time finally, finally by seeing to the end of the one seeding trouble all along—not until after Quincey Morris went into the ground as a last miserable toll, that John could bring himself to visit any of the graves alone. Lucy’s. Quincey’s. Renfield’s.

On visiting the last’s simple plot, John brought along Meward in his coat. No longer quite a kitten, but still petite enough to fit in an inner pocket. The cat stared wonderingly at the marker for a time. He then paced away, seeming to search for something among the other graves. He returned on dainty steps with that something in his mouth. A dead bird. He laid it on Renfield’s plot and then curled himself around John’s leg, staring up.  

If asked, even by Van Helsing, he could not have explained why this was the moment that burst the dam anew.

Nor why this eruption was so horridly raw compared to his past collapses. He had wept whole oceans since the loss of Lucy, it seemed. For twice dead Lucy, for Mina and her damned undying, for Quincey bleeding his life out on the snow, and now, here, last and so criminally considered least until it was too late, Renfield. Renfield who had died as a man neither comprehended nor heeded in his last desperate throes. Renfield who had died to shield a young woman he had befriended for all of an hour over simple kindness and equal regard. Renfield who Dr. John Seward had never healed, only housed or hindered or harkened to for study’s sake.

He crumpled to his knees there among the dead who’d died ill and insane for lack of understanding. Face in his hands, all the horror and hate of self folded back on itself a hundred times over. Arthur did not need his shoulder. Van Helsing did not need his confidante. The Harkers did not need his brave face. His staff and his patients did not need his professional posture or imposture. Nothing was needed here, for no one was alive to need anything.

So out it came. All those deepest acidic tides of unshared grief that could never be dared in the audience of friend or phonograph or the fierce eyes of those who saw and judged the faintest failure of mind as failure of soul, because that was what he was, a failure of psyche and ability who was nothing, who could do nothing but look on, be a warm body, a recorder of others’ misery while he sat and stared and failed and failed and failed them—

A warm ball of fur was worming its way onto his lap. Then up under his jaw, trying to squeeze itself between his hands and his tears.

John looked down. Meward looked up. Blinked once, slow. Then resumed trying to grate himself against John’s face and hands and neck and anywhere else he could reach, purring like thunder as he did. John snuffled and swallowed back another hoarse noise. He laid both hands on the cat to stroke him. Minutes passed on and on until they became an hour. John picked himself up, cat in hand.

“Thank you, Doctor,” he breathed, pausing to tidy the skewed ribbon. “You have a true talent.”

Meward mewed. It was a purely affected sound. The kind he made either to win another round of petting or a treat or a dash of catnip. John supposed he could pay for his services with a medley of all three at home.

A year later, with the asylum behind and the future ahead, the private psychiatric practice of Dr. John Seward was making elated waves through the medical grapevine. It was recommended by most anyone in the Purfleet area—likewise for even the most distant neighbors—that Dr. Seward was the man to go to before anyone started throwing around panicked thoughts of sanitorium stays or the druggist or a mesmeric cure. Go to Seward first, comes the suggestion from all walks.

Talk to him. Talk until you’re blue. Let him hear it all, however strange, however haunted or haunting, and he will neither balk nor sentence you to a straitjacket. Dr. Seward actually listens. More, he keeps confidences. He lays out alternatives the patient themselves might take before being flung headlong to the pharmacy or a locked room. Talk. Be heard. Be helped.

And don’t mind the cat staring in the corner.

He is a colleague and he’s there to help too.

[duatdesigns]

First Steps On This Journey

Welcome to My Art Journey on Tumblr: Unveiling the Mystical Realms of Mythology, Big Cats, and Fantasy

Hey there, art lovers and fellow dreamers!

I’m Duat Designs, and I’m thrilled to welcome you to my Tumblr page! Here begins an enchanting voyage into the world of art, where every brushstroke tells a story, and every pixel captures the essence of myths and dreams.

Exploring the Mystical Realms

From the ancient sands of Egypt to the mystical whispers of forgotten lore, my art dives deep into the heart of mythology. The gods, goddesses, and legends of ancient Egypt have always fascinated me. Their tales of power, creation, and the afterlife are rich with symbolism and intrigue. Through my creations, I aim to breathe life into these timeless stories, offering a glimpse into the divine and the enigmatic.

The Majesty of Big Cats

In my art, you'll frequently encounter the powerful and graceful forms of big cats. These majestic creatures embody strength, elegance, and a primal beauty that captivates and inspires. Whether prowling the dense jungles or basking in the golden savannahs, big cats are a recurring theme that symbolizes both the fierce and the serene.

Delving into the Supernatural

The supernatural world is a tapestry of the unknown, woven with threads of magic, spirits, and the unexplained. My fascination with the supernatural stems from its ability to stretch the imagination beyond the mundane. Expect to see ethereal beings, ghostly apparitions, and scenes that bridge the gap between our world and the beyond.

Crafting Tales of Fantasy

Fantasy is where my imagination truly takes flight. I believe in the power of storytelling to transport us to realms where dragons soar, knights embark on epic quests, and magic flows as freely as water. Each piece I create is a doorway into a new adventure, inviting you to step into a universe where the extraordinary is the norm.

Join the Journey

Your support and interaction mean the world to me. Let’s connect, share, and grow together in this artistic journey. Follow me on social media for updates, behind-the-scenes peeks, and a deeper dive into my creative process:

- Instagram: @duat_designs

-Twitter: @duatdesigns

-DeviantArt: DuatDesigns

-Facebook: Duat Designs

-Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/duatdesigns

-Patreon: patreon.com/duatdesigns

- Lemon8: lemon8app.com/duatdesigns

-Threads: threads.net/duatdesigns

- Toyhouse: toyhou.se/duatdesigns

- FurAffinity: furaffinity.net/user/duatdesigns

- Pinterest: pinterest.com/duatdesigns

Let’s Create Together!

Feel free to drop a message, leave comments, or simply enjoy the art. I’m always open to suggestions, commissions, or even just a chat about our favorite myths and stories. Thank you for being a part of this journey. Let’s explore these mystical realms together!

Stay inspired and keep dreaming,

Duat Designs

[sslytheringhufflepufff]

Baby Boy (Draco x Reader)

Hi! this was requested but I didn’t know tumblr didn’t keep messages so I don’t remember the user name of the person who requested, sorry!! BTW sorry if it sucks, its my first time writing something with pregnancy xD Warning:Lucius, Cussing, fluff, pregnancy 1.7k words

Summary: Reader pregnant with Draco’s baby, time jump to when you discovered, time jump during, and time jump to an event causing you to go into labor.

You were walking around diagon alley looking around for your Husband holding your belly, you were around 8 months pregnant and were shopping around for the nursery "Malfoy, where the hell are you" you said going into shops searching for the white-haired boy. You've looked through every store there and decided to take a drastic measure and check the Dark Magic stores, going into Knockturn Alley "Uh Miss Malfoy I don't think it's a good idea going there, they know who you are" a shop owner said "It's okay I'm just looking for Draco, maybe he's there" you said giving them a small smile and going into the Dark Alley. A chill ran down your spine as you entered the dark place looking around "Draco if you're here I'll kill you" you said under your breath walking around carefully peering your eyes into store trying not to be seen "My my, look what we have here"  You stopped at the middle of your tracks looking back at who was talking "fuck" you said Lucius Malfoy stood behind you with a smirk on his face "What do you want Lucius" you said getting nervous "Oh nothing darling I just wanted to see if my grandson our granddaughter was all right" he said  "You know you're not allowed to talk to any of us after that day" you said backing away he just laughed getting closer to you "I know, and it's all your fault” he said as he grabbed you neck pushing against the wall, a sharp breath leaving your mouth, you felt your heart beating so hard you thought it would pop out of your chest “Lucius don’t do this please” you said tears starting to well up “please” you said in a whisper as your eye began getting hazy “Stop” you heard as you began losing your breath and consciousness “Draco” you said as everything went black. 

“Draco” you said smiling calling him “Come here please” you said signaling him as he stood up from his bed “I have a surprise!” you said excited as you hugged him “Uhh what is it” he said chuckling lightly hugging you back “So, do you remember that night that we went to Ron and Hermione's wedding?” “Mm yes” he said kissing your forehead “Okay what did we do after that?” you said Draco smirked “Something you might want to do now?” he said you playfully slapped his chest “No, at least not for nine months” you said while handing him a positive test “W-what?” he said letting a loud breath as he grabbed the test looking at it “Is this real?” he said looking at you “Yes” you said in a whisper like tone then he grabbed you a kissed you smiling to the kiss “We’re going to be parents” you said hugging him  

Suddently you woke up chest heavy trying to find your breath, you're on the floor “How dare you touch her” you heard someone scream you tried stand “Draco” you said in a whisper “You should've never married that mudblood” you heard Lucius say looking at you “Cruciatus” he said as you screamed In agonizing pain “STOP” you heard Draco “Avada Kedavra” you heard him his voice breaking say watching Lucius fall to the grown. Draco running towards you as you let tears fall from your face holding yourself “Y/n, you're okay, you're okay” you heard Draco say with a shaky voice “You're Bleeding” he said looking down on you and you followed his gaze looking at your thighs your jeans getting red you screamed as you felt yourself slipping out of consciousness the pain becoming unbearable “Apparition” you heard Draco scream as it all went black.

   You were sitting on the couch hands on your belly, you were already 6 months along and finally started showing Draco taking a seat beside you “When are we going to tell my parents?” he said looking nervously at you, you didn’t know if you wanted to tell them, Narcissa loved you but Lucius hated you for being a muggle-born and you know that “I don’t know Draco, your dad scares me” you said “I know babe, but they’ll find out eventually so better late than never”  he said laying a kiss in your forehead standing up “Ill sent them a letter and invite them over for dinner” he said heading out “Okay” you said in a whisper as you hugged yourself. Dinner came by and you got more nervous than before and you knew Draco was nervous himself. You stood by him holding his hands as you watched his parents arrive at your house, you felt nauseous as Draco squeezed tight your hand reassuring that everything would be alright. His mom came first she hugged you tightly “Hello darling” she said with a genuine smile then she went to hug her son “My Boy” she said “Good to see you Mum” he said hugging her back “Draco” you heard tensing up “Father” Draco said with a stern look on his face while Lucious just looked at you with a Disgusting face, Narcissa took your hand on that very moment “Come on Honey, let's go inside you have a lot to tell me, How's Draco treating you?” she said smiling as you giggled and went inside. After Dinner you all sat in the living room, Lucius hasn’t said a word to you but Narcissa has been treating you like her daughter, she didn’t like muggle-born but she saw how happy you were making his son, she had never seen him look so content with life, she just knew she had to make an exception and she made the right choice, now Lucius didn’t even take his sons feeling into consideration, he never did OfCourse, he hated you, he wanted you gone, he didn’t want you to ruin the pure blood in the family, his thought being interrupted by Draco “We have something to tell you guys” he said causing them to look up at you and Draco, you put your hands on your stomach and smiles “NO” said Lucius said standing up, “You will NOT ruin our blood” he said Draco pushing you behind him “Calm Down, Lucius” you heard Narcissa say “No, I will not let them ruin us Narcissa, don’t you see it, how could you accept this thing”  he said pointing at you, you could feel Draco tense up “You don’t get it Father? I was never happy, when I finally find someone who loves me and accepts me after everything that happened you still can’t be a little happy for me?” he said angrily, his father scoffed “I could find you someone Pure and well for the blood line Draco, someone who won't ruin our name” “Our name was ruined when you decided to follow the dark lord” he said Lucius looking at him “I will not let you ruin us” he said lifting his wand pointing it at you “Avada-” “No” you heard Draco Scream standing in front of you hugging you “DEPULSO” you heard Narcissa scream and everything went silent . You looked up and Lucius was nowhere to be found Narcissa standing there with her wand in her hand as she looked at the spot where the man stood “Mum...” Draco whispered “He was going to kill you, I had to” she said her hands shaking “It’s okay” Draco said letting go of you making his way to his mother “Mum, we’re okay” hugging her and you slowly walked towards them “Thank you” you said tears welling up “Thank you Narcissa” you said hugging her as she hugged you back “I can't lose Draco, and I don’t want to lose you either” she said giving you a smile. 

“Y/n, y/n, wake up” you heard as you slowly regain consciousness opening your eyes slowly “W-where am I?” you asked looking around slowly “Were at St. Mungo's, you were attacked by my father and started bleeding, the Doctors told me that you were alright and that the baby is also fine, but they want to keep you for observation since you're close to the end of the pregnancy, the damage you took may cause you to go into labor sooner”  he said running his hands through your as he smiled weakly at you  “Your Dad” you said “Y-you killed him, Draco” you said placing your hand on his cheek “He was going to kill you both, y/n” he said putting his hand on yours “I’d rather lose someone who's made me suffer other than loosing someone who's made me love life”  he said kissing your hand and taking it into his, suddenly a sharp pain ran through your body “Fuck” you screamed “What's wrong?” Draco said standing up “I NEED A DOCTOR NOW” he screamed as he watched you with a worry look on his face “You're okay Darling” he said as the doctor came in “Okay looks like she's going into labor” “Already? I thought she still had time” Draco said looking at him in disbelief “Well Malfoy, the consequence's that she suffered cause her to go into labor earlier but don’t worry she's in good hands” the Doctor said giving him a pat in the back as he stared at you, looking at you in pain was the worst, he hated it “I'll be okay Draco” you said feeling the contraction go  “We’re ready” giving him a light squeeze on his arm, a soft smile appeared on his face “We’re ready” he said. The labor was intense, you cursed out Draco for getting you pregnant as Draco just stood there holding your hand laughing as his sweet, loving, kind Wife told him to fuck off “Y/N, I need you to push please” the doctor said you screamed as you pushed hard breathing rapidly “come on two more” he said and you pushed again squeezing Draco's hand “ouch” he said “ Shut up” you screamed at him as you pushed again hearing crying “He’s here” you heard the doctor say “H-he?” you said “Yes, a wonderful and healthy baby boy” he said as he placed him on your chest “Draco, it’s a boy” you said looking at him tears streaming down both of your faces “He’s wonderful” he said laying a kiss on your forehead and placing a hand on the small boys back as you hummed “My boys” you said turning your head and placing a small kiss on Draco's lips smiling. 

[eisforeidolon]

Hi! This is random and I'm sorry if you've explained before/I am ignorant, but what does your url mean? :3

No apologies necessary, and no, I've never explained it before/it's not some obvious thing. I initially came over to tumblr for simblr and my previous sims-community user name was __E__. But that was too short for tumblr and/or underscores weren't allowed, so I decided to expand the name for the url into "E is for" and went with euphemism, honestly just because it was a cool e word I liked.

When I decided I needed a separate blog for my SPN thoughts, I decided to stick with the naming scheme. I did some dictionary surfing and came up with eidolon. As a word that can refer to an idealized image, it seemed appropriate since what I wanted to post about was largely people projecting weird distorted interpretations onto the show. As a word for a phantom or apparition, it seemed both appropriately spooky for SPN and it reflected how much I expected to actually be present on tumblr posting about the show (ha!).

[lucalicatteart]

Just a short info post on the topic of people accidentally haunting themselves through use of magic, and what is usually done when people believe they’re being haunted.  Completely random topic in the middle of things I’d rather be focusing on (the avirre’thel, elven history, etc.), but... apparently my brain was thinking about this so I had to write some about it lol

(actual info under read more, as usual..)

---------

[[ ALSO: there’s still a glitch where when viewing blogs on the side on tumblr, read more’s don’t work and it shows the full text, so I’m sorry if this appears full length. If this happens just view my blog in a new tab or something instead so there’s not long strings of text... lov tumblr being a very functional website..]]

Technically, there's no such thing as ‘spirits’ in Nanyevimi (at least not in the way we usually think of them). There are a few things that may mimic the presentation of something like a haunting, a spirit sighting, etc., (which I’m about to explain), but these are magical in nature, rather than just an actual function of the world. 

The most common phenomena that can mimic the presence of some sort of ghosts, is... essentially, people haunting themselves??? As in any world, people in Nanyevimi are still capable of convincing themselves something is true through confirmation bias based on their preexisting beliefs. Which, when much of the population consists of magic users.. can become a bit more complicated, as they do actually have the potential to unknowingly effect their surroundings. 

Essentially, anyone who's capable of using magic, even if they don't have very strong abilities (actually, especially if they don’t/are relatively untrained), can end up performing small feats of magic accidentally. This is why latent magic can be so dangerous (as explained in this post on latent/undiscovered magical abilities HERE (link)), and why especially the more powerful you are, the more significant  it is to be exceptionally well controlled, lest you accidentally blow up your house or kill someone lol.. 

So, if it's something believed by a large group of people, all of whom can use magic (such as a small rural town of elves), it can almost end up becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy..  A myth starts, then people begin to fulfill the myth (unknowingly) through VERY small energy barely noticeable accidental acts of magic. For example, a mysterious breeze coursing through the forest on a day where it otherwise wasn't windy, and people are like “AAAa! See! The forest is haunted!!”, when really it was one of them which caused the breeze to happen in the first place lol. Which only makes more people believe and do the same thing.

 Collective energy output like this can sometimes end up functioning similarly to an enchantment, without an actual enchantment having been placed by anyone, where the more collective belief and accidental magic bestowed into something, the more that that thing actually follows through, in a series of tiny acts over time that just gets worse the more that people buy into it*(1). 

So for example, there may be woods that are thought to be 'cursed', where bad things always happen to the people who travel through there, but rather than it being the doing of some evil ancient monster (like the locals believe), it's actually just.. literally the people who live near the forest themselves. The small bits of accidental magic seeping from them act to confirm their intentions, and cause little accidents like a branch falling on someone, someone's hat blowing off, a pothole in the road that knocks someone's wheel off their cart, etc. While it  wouldn't really be anything extreme*(2) (crafting actual apparitions, monsters, natural disasters or etc. would take far more advanced magic than what could just happen without the person knowing they’re doing it), these small things would still be enough to reconfirm the myth over time. 

(for more info on how magic, enchantments, etc. works, you can read the large masterpost sort of thing about it HERE (link))

Interestingly, you rarely if ever see this effect of “self-haunting” occur in mostly Jhevona populated areas. This is thought to be because of their cultural focus on extreme self-control and awareness of their magic, thus making it much less likely for them to unintentionally use magic. For someone so deeply in tune with their internal intentions and awareness of their magic, accidentally using magic without knowing it would be exceedingly rare. (Though in cases where this has happened, the effect is usually much more extreme, since they're capable of far more advanced magics... which is part of why they prevent this stuff from occurring in the first place. ). 

These self-hauntings also never occur in non-magical societies, and you actually rarely have stories about “ghosts” or curses or etc. in their cultures. Human (and other non-magic) cultures in the realm certainly can also fall prey to psyching themselves into things and etc., so it's not like because they can't do magic they're suddenly immune to superstition, they have plenty of similar-ish beliefs, but it's just much less prevalent for it to be genuinely reinforced in their cultures, since they usually can't find much tangible evidence. Like, if they believe something like a curse, it's usually just based on "a feeling" they get, or based in it just being a tradition that is passed down. They culturally would describe it more as a sort of  ‘energy’ instead. 

So, humans/non-magical people in the realm may have beliefs more like “Stay away from the woods because they have a repellent force, and they don’t want us near them/the gods don’t intend for us to go into them/we’ve hurt the forest’s feelings and are not allowed there now”, and would also not have much evidence for this aside from maybe a few personal stories or “gut feelings”. While among magical groups, it may be described more as “There is an evil ghost haunting these woods!/Someone has cursed these woods!”, and they MAY actually have have physical evidence of it existing/something that seems like tangible proof rather than just suspicion (despite it still usually just  being an accidental magic placebo).  Beliefs like this can stick around in certain magical cultures more prominently , because they're not as easy to discount or disprove if locals have apparently witnessed actual physical evidence of it, etc. Because it feels stronger and more personal to them, they also usually attribute it to ghosts/spirits (sometimes of ancestors), or more active/deliberate and personified parties, rather than just obscure feelings or the vague workings of gods. 

There's no real solution to people haunting themselves, other than for the group to learn what's going on and ALSO learn better magical control and discipline so it's less likely for them to cast accidental spells. If they ONLY learn what could be going on, but don't train their magic, they'll just end up repeating the same thing later, falling back into haunting themselves, since they still have underlying issues with accidental spells.  

Due to their generally higher mastery of magic, sometimes Jhevona (if there are any groups of them in the local area) will be called to help with stuff like this.  Kind of like teams of paranormal investigators, except they're just magic specialists who may come in and help test for traces of magic in an area (to see if people are casting spells accidentally or not), better train the people in the area in their magical control, etc. If the Jhevona is powerful enough in enchantment magics, sometimes they can even kind of just slap a band-aid on the issue by simply overriding whatever magic is being done with a larger enchantment which then blocks the accidental magic from coming through, effectively ending the self inflicted "curse" in the area, though it’s not a very long term solution, and people may end up haunting themselves again in other ways.  

(Though sometimes an over-riding sort of enchantment can be done to help diagnose the issue, like if they do this and the “haunting” DOESN'T go away then.. you may have some more serious problem on your hands, like a mage causing trouble intentionally, or etc.)

There are a few other things which can, on the surface, resemble a form of ‘haunting’.. Mostly just, enchantments done by malicious parties (actual people though, not ghosts.. just like.. random mages who want to trick people in a small town out of their money or something), and also occasionally forms of soul magic gone wrong can trap someone’s soul in an object or place in an unnatural way, and this can mimic the existence of ‘’spirits’’ or etc., though this one is very rare, since soul magic in general is pretty rare. I may elaborate more on those two options later, but this post was mostly about self inflicted “haunting” through accidental magic lol. 

[ *(1) note: Magic scholars disagree on whether enough collective belief in something can ACTUALLY create an enchantment without an enchantment being set. All magic seems to based on intention, but especially enchantments are extremely literal in that sense, so it could follow that if enough people intend something, and enough people are accidentally seeping magic into that intention and giving it an actual energy behind it, it may genuinely become it’s own ‘independent magical function’ (what enchantments basically are), “feeding” itself (as all enchantments must be recharged over time) on the magical energy output of the collective group.

But, it’s commonly thought (and observed) that enchantments must be specifically set by one individual (though that individual can draw energy from others as part of it), and that they also take a great deal of magical energy to set up (which is why it’s mostly Jhevona and other higher-energy magical species who do them, rather than lower energy beings like elves).  Whether a collective group of people could create a genuine enchantment function just by casting enough intention and fueling it with accidental magical leaks is still uncertain, but would definitely be interesting from a magical study point (and would confirm some less common beliefs that magic to a degree operates on it’s own.. since this would effectively be like.. an enchantment casting itself just because there was enough intention and energy going around. But, that’s a debate for the magic scholars (who already spend most of their time arguing about this stuff anyway lol).]

[ *(2) note:  It should be noted that this ‘unintentional magic’ really only manifests through minor physical alterations of the environment, or other very small simple spells. Things like Illusion magics and etc. are so powerful and inaccessible that it's not like someone could just 'accidentally' do them, even if casting illusions or hearing voices would go along with the idea of placebo hauntings. Though in some ways magic can seem like it has a mind of it’s own and is never fully controllable, there are still plenty of user based limitations.

Much of magic is intention based, meaning it is affected by your mental state. If you try to cast a spell to burn your house down, but you don’t really actually want to burn your house down, you will have mental resistance  (unless you’re immaculately well trained) and the spell will probably not actually work. You'd end up casting the fire somewhere else and burning a random stranger to death or just shooting water at your house or something instead, etc.  

Which of course, this means that SOME things can be done on intention alone.. but these primarily involve pure energy magic, or simplistic elemental magic. Some basic magics like these can be utilized (to a primitive degree) without training or much knowledge, since they mostly consist of pure bursts of unaltered energy, rather than a careful manipulation of energy or matter. Most higher level magics are too complex and require a lot of very intentional manipulation based on former knowledge, so it'd be nearly impossible for someone to do them just 'accidentally' .

Unintentional magic usually exists solely in the form of like, accidentally creating a breeze, or moving an object, shooting out a burst of energy at someone who has attacked you even if you didn't MEAN to hurt them and it was just an accidental self defense out of your body being surprised (also why they say to never sneak up on mages lol), accidentally setting a fire, etc.

Anyway, I just wanted to clarify that it'd be impossible for someone to 'accidentally' perform some feat of magic that they're not trained for/otherwise incapable of.

 If you're ALREADY an illusion magics user, you could accidentally use illusion magics perhaps under certain specific conditions, but if you're just some random elf with very little magical training who's convincing themselves of a placebo haunting, you're not going to be able to break out some master level illusions spell if you can't already do that normally, etc. “Weak” accidental magic can still cause massive damage, kill yourself and people around you, destroy your environment, etc. even with just simple pure energy magics, so like.. it’s still Dangerous, and unintentional magic can operate in pretty hazardous ways, but , you’re also just not going to be able to accidentally do stuff that’s WAY beyond your scope to already reasonably be able to do. ]]

[redwhale]

re: Fic Rec Days, I was hoping to have this done by the 12th! Nope. This is an updated rec list for James/Thomas and James/Miranda/Thomas for Black Sails. 

I am still wanting to rec a lot of the newer stories on this list separately (plus some other wonderful stories), but I don’t think that will happen before mid-March, so that’s really frustrating. Curses! I haven’t even caught up on writing reviews for some of the newer stories, which I’m even more frustrated about. I sadly don’t have a lot of time to read fic, so this is by no means an extensive list. There is so much goddamn fantastic work out there! The following is just a very small taste. Positively, there are some underrated gems linked here that deserve some more love. 

(I always feel awful about rec lists, because I know I’ve inevitably lost track of some amazing stories, and there are also equally as many excellent stories from stupidly talented authors that I might have missed or haven’t gotten to read yet, so I want to emphasize again, this is by no means extensive.)  The following stories are just AO3 links, as I’ve lost track of so many Tumblr fics, and when a user changes their username, the links break. Double curses!

James/Thomas:

Idealism Sits In A Prison -  Sunnyrea

Thomas Hamilton's ten years without James.

Stimulus -  AstronautSquid

After ten years of separation and hardship, their hearts love each other the same.

It's their bodies that need longer to settle.

Thomas Hamilton: A Life -  AstronautSquid

Thomas Hamilton is born with two front teeth.

He dies with the morning sun in his eyes.

This is everything in between.

Les mille et une nuits -  andloawhatsit 

Abigail Ashe grows up, buys a printing press, and finds a man she thought she'd never see again.

On Kindly Beaches -  Theonenamedafterahat

Woodes Rogers tries to get Thomas Hamilton to help him persuade Captain Flint to accept the pardons. This does not go well for him.

A Break In The Clouds -  moonflowers

The end of his nose brushed the back of the man's hood; he smelt of oil and salt and wet canvas. For the first time that evening, Thomas was thankful he was cold and miserable - it provided a distraction from the firmness of the body pressed against his front, and how inconvenient it would be for Thomas to crave it.

In which Thomas is lost in the rain, and rather enamoured with his rescuer.

For whither thou goest, I will go -  OrangeLady

When Thomas is set free from Bedlam, he knows he has to see New Providence, the place that stole so much from him: his lovers, his family and his life.

wooden tides to run -  AstronautSquid

James was almost certain he had walked more miles on wooden planks than on solid ground in his life.

Fascination -  AstronautSquid

“Pirates,” was all James rasped above him.

“A general history thereof,” Thomas agreed. “Detailing the most fearsome scoundrels to ever plague the high seas. Though I have to say, this likeness doesn’t quite do you justice. Your moustache is not as ridiculously curly as that.”

Imitation -   AstronautSquid

In battle he was clear-headed and footsure.

Faced with Thomas' request for a taste of Flint, James felt anything but.

Reorienting -  Palebluedot

Thomas grabs ahold of his holy apparition with both hands and keeps him there, draws him nearer. Let them hold each other until they both bruise, he thinks fiercely, for tenderness needn't always step light. Love owes them kind wounds.

Eye of the Beholder -  Palebluedot 

“Open your eyes for me, love,” Thomas reminds him, voice husky, and when he does, the first thing he sees is Thomas's reflected grin, hungry as the gaze that caresses every inch of skin from James's parted, panting lips down to his flushed and leaking cock. “Just look at you,” he sighs in James's ear before he trails imprecise, open-mouthed kisses back down to James's throat. Author’s Note: ((alternatively, that time bean was like "so what if they fucked in front of a mirror" and I was like "shit what if they DID"))

Unaccommodated Man -  kvikindi 

It is at this point that, for the first time, Thomas Hamilton begins to consider that he has gone mad.

The Peaceable Kingdom -  kvikindi

William Manderly visits the plantation, some six years after the events of Unaccommodated Man.

Congress -  kvikindi

James and Thomas put the "fuck" in "fucked-up."

The Cup of Their Deserving (the wages of their virtue) -  DreamingPagan

Madi decides not to be sent away after her rescue. When she returns to Skeleton Island, she finds a betrayal in progress and takes steps to save her friend and put her people's choice regarding the war back in their hands. 

name one hero who was happy -  mapped

Lying in bed together, James and Thomas talk about the Iliad. (Thomas is practically ready to write Achilles/Patroclus fanfiction.)

Crescent Moon -  sebastianL (felix_atticus)

One shot of the months following the finale, with a focus on a certain tattoo.

Bent -  azarias

In a warm room in London, James tells Thomas about the events on the Exeter.

Thomas applies what he learns. (Established relationship, consensual kink.)

With Fire and With His Sword -  azarias

After the reunion, after the plantation, Captain Flint returns to the sea.

He takes James and Thomas with him.

katabasis -  csoru

Flint discovers Thomas is a passenger aboard the Maria Aleyne alongside his father, and events proceed from there. 

Lord Captain -  Apetslife

“Once a year, I send a letter to My Lord father, accounting for every penny of commerce I have cost the colony of the Bahamas, and every lover I have taken in that time. So far, he has failed to send a reply. An oversight, I’m sure.” (Pirate Captain Thomas Hamilton).

Sea Salt and Lavender -  moonflowers

James hadn't heard the song, nor spared it a thought, for years. He'd had no need of it. But her singing grounded him, reminded him that he'd had a home once, before everything, where his grandmother had sung those same words as she rolled out pastry, where he'd played as a boy, and dreamt of sailing away through those harbour walls and making something of himself. It came as a surprise to uncover something of James McGraw from so long ago, and to find it still intact.

With Sweet, Reluctant, Amorous Delay -  Magnetism_bind

For the Flinthamilton prompt: "There's no way you're getting me in /that/"

Thomas takes James to a costume party.

The Loaning of Books Between Friends -  Magnetism_bind

Thomas loans books to James in an attempt to get to know his new liaison better.

The Fields of Elysium -  Fyre

A man who has been through bitter experiences and travelled far enjoys even his sufferings after a time. - The Odyssey.

The Pirate -  x_art

(Modern AU)  What if Pickram got there first?

The Sundering Sea -  x_art

Stepping into the foamy surf, gasping at the force of it, the surprise of it—it had been breathtaking. Thomas had been that for him, his boundless sea, and he wasn’t ashamed.

Folly -  x_art

It wasn’t too late to nip this in the bud. He could do it because he’d done it before, because his heart was always subservient to his head. Always.

Thomas the Mariner -  shirogiku

Thomas' voyage home takes slightly less than ten years, but not for the lack of misadventures.

a word like tiger -  bellis

A few months after Charlestown, Flint finds out that Thomas is alive. This is, by all accounts, terrible timing. 

James/Miranda/Thomas:

Feed Among The Lilies -  willowbilly

James has been warned that they are duplicitous people, and by all rights he should remain on guard.

He does not care to.

Thomas actually chuckles when Astraea meets his eyes as fiercely and haughtily and lingeringly nonplussed as only a raptor can be, and it is such a disarmingly lovely sound that she immediately discards all the proud composure she'd just managed to gather and swivels away to preen busily beneath her wing, her hot yellow glare in its bandit stripe of brown ducked and hidden with telling alacrity within the downiest and snowiest of her feathers. (Daemon AU)

Firebird -  Wind_Ryder

There are two truths in the world.

One: Before Thomas and Miranda leave London to begin Governing Nassau, they receive a note that reads: "Lt. James McGraw died a resident of Bethlem Hospital on December 25, 1705." And they have nothing left to live for.

and Two: on December 25, 1705, Admiral Hennessey takes James from Bethlem and brings him to his new life far away from London society. He is told he will never see the Hamiltons again.

These two truths were never meant to be spoken at the same time.

Elisha made the oil pour forth -  azarias

Miranda is a widow. Miranda has a husband, but not the one she wants. Miranda may have gone mad a month ago, but no one's had the guts to tell her.

Start Anew - Neery

James and Miranda rescue Thomas from Bethlem. This was supposed to solve all their problems.

As it turns out, things are more complicated than that.

Late night walk date -  fandomfan

Having just returned from the West Indies, James tries—rather unsuccessfully—to take his leave from the Hamiltons' London house. 

Where The Winds Sigh -  Chainofprospit

The last levee of tradition belaying him gave way, and with it any sense of reticence. James could feel his furrowed brow falling, his chin lifting, without needing to will it so. I am going to be kissed by Thomas Hamilton, he thought, and in the next second he was.

--

We've seen the moment that James and Thomas finally kissed; this is what I imagine comes after.

To The Upper Air - DreamingPagan

James Flint goes to sleep expecting a battle the next day. What he's not expecting is to wake, eleven years in his own past, with a very different fight on his hands - to save the people he loves and his own soul.

Full of Grace -  DreamingPagan

Alfred orders both Thomas and James to be taken to Bedlam. Miranda is left to rescue them with the aid of Admiral Hennessey.

You Can’t Handle The Truth -  Wind_Ryder 

Now, all of England and beyond were discussing how an MP of Thomas' reputation was actually gay, that a Naval Officer with James' CV was a home wrecker, and how Miranda was either the victim of her husband's deviations, or a slut begging for more. Modern AU: In which Thomas, Miranda, and James are outed to the press.

Thereto I plight thee my troth -  azarias

Thomas consults Miranda on the subject of his military liaison. Sexily.

a more rational burning -  sea_changed (foxlives) 

She had understood this as her role from the beginning, the head to Thomas's heart and James's hands.

and into what it will be changed - sea_changed (foxlives) 

His own heart, so often obscure to him, has become clear. (Tag notes: Political philosophy, art, naval policy, mostly threesomes.)

to ithaca -  sea_changed (foxlives)

Miranda finds him first.

A Savor of the Heart -  drivingsideways

In some cultures, speaking the name of the dead is taboo.

Apprehension -  orienter (orientinme)

For a year, Miranda watches them with fear. Until the day she understands why they feel none.

The Art of Asymmetry -  AstronautSquid

Her sketches of people tended to veer into caricature with their lively emphasis of all things out of the ordinary - a large nose, a double chin, a foppish gesture -, and had thus quickly been ruled unfit for display among polite company.

Thomas encouraged her to keep a rotating selection framed on a dresser in the chamber connecting their rooms.

It was a week into their affair that Miranda first sketched James.

No Part Behind -  atrata

James thinks of Thomas.

A Knock Upon the Moonlit Door -  FeoplePeel

A werewolf, a fairy, a witch, and a vampire walk onto a magical island and--no wait. Once upon a time, there was a Knocker who betrayed his friend and spent over a century in a Sidhe prison until he met a handsome werewolf and--hang on a minute.

There are stories that reach even the Sidhe's side of the Veil, of Nassau and its healing shores. But what use could the ghosts of giants, and vampires, and all of those who will never meet death find for a fountain of life? The obvious answer is: keep it away from everyone else.

Or: The story of how John Silver joined Flint's very non-traditional pack.

Miranda/Thomas:

May it happen to me (all) - drivingsideways

In the summer of 1695, Miranda Barlow meets Lord Thomas Hamilton.

James/Miranda:

book of days - sea_changed (foxlives)

He looks at her, lost, like he is trying to understand the distance between them and cannot. A line of longitude, incalculable, mysterious and imprecise.

whalebone, rigged to stem the floods - AstronautSquid

James had learnt how to unlace a woman's stays, and how to help put them back on.

The fine material of the cords had snagged on his callouses, but they were after all just delicate ropes, and ropes he knew. The knots came together between his fingers under Miranda's direction and adjusting the tension of the laces running through the eyelets felt surprisingly familiar, the same way he could almost feel in his own body the tension of a ship's rigging.

It was the first time during their affair that James had felt truly in control of the situation at hand.

[nataliesewell]

the arcana masterlist

Stop reblogging this post. The masterlist is no longer being updated. Dana Rune, the artist, is an incest shipper and the devs are just generally horrible. DON’T SUPPORT THE ARCANA.

i’m dreadfully curious and hopelessly lost when it comes to the arcana’s twisting, complex plot, which we still don’t know much about, so i figured it’d be best to compile what i know about the characters and the plot intertwining them so far.

of course, different options / combos in the game reveal different things. as i haven’t gotten them all, and i’m forgetful af, there’ll be information missing. this is where you lovely people come in. feel free to message me stuff i’ve missed, or ask me for proof of something i’ve mentioned that you haven’t seen before! this way this masterlist will remain canonical and truthful.

just to be clear, there aren’t meant to be any assumptions or theories here; this post contains only what we know to be fact, whether it be confirmed in-game or by the devs on tumblr.

there are major spoilers abound under the cut, for future discoveries in the game even: read at your own discretion.

UPDATES

AUG 29: added more information, including that from the devs’ tumblr, and made some fixes as pointed out by some lovely tumblr users

SEP 24: removed and added information on asra’s memory wipe

SEP 28: made a heading for book vi + future books and added new information

BOOKS I - V

BACK STORY

the apprentice and other characters reside in a seaside city-state named vesuvia

count lucio hosted the masquerade, a festival held every year on his birthday, where all the cityfolk are invited, rich or poor (people were only turned away when the palace was at capacity)

at some point, the red plague sweeps vesuvia, killing countless people

if affected by the plague, a person’s sclera (the outer part / layer of their eyeball) will noticeably turn from white to red

in the hopes of finding a cure, various physicians, scientists, alchemists, witches, and even fortune tellers were invited by the count and countess to the palace, where they offered them resources for their research

during the last masquerade, three years ago, someone killed the count when he retired to his chambers

julian devorak is believed to be the killer, and is being hunted by countess nadia, however there aren’t any leads on his whereabouts

the palace has been barred from cityfolk since julian’s escape, and no more masquerades have been hosted... Until Now

LUCIO

“provocative count whose presence still lingers over the city”

before becoming a count, he was a mercenary

was feared yet loved by his subjects / the cityfolk

had the red plague, as in his sprite lucio has red sclera

commissioned a painting in which he appears as the central figure, a goat, surrounded by other animals; it was a favourite painting of his, and so it still hangs in the dining room

killed in his chambers during the last masquerade, at midnight, by manner of burning / fire; the entire wing has been closed down and abandoned since

portia mentions there are many people who had motive to kill lucio, as he had a lot of enemies

has two dogs, melchior and mercedes, who guard the staircase leading to the abandoned wing; they might later lead the apprentice to the wing

depending on the player’s choices, the apprentice may explore the abandoned palace wing / lucio’s chambers and come into contact with an apparition of a goat with red eyes

ASRA

“wandering magician with a wealth of secrets”

grew up in the streets of vesuvia alongside muriel, as confirmed by the devs on tumblr

has a familiar, a snake named faust

the devs disclosed that faust was given to asra when she was an egg by another, unknown magician

operated from a fortune teller’s booth in the city for an unknown amount of time before he met the apprentice

well known by cityfolk, and appears to be feared by some as well (namely the fortune teller whose booth is close to the palace)

later came to live with the apprentice in their shop-slash-home

went to the palace to find a cure for the red plague; the apprentice had no knowledge of this

left on a journey during the start of the game, though where he went is unknown to the player and apprentice

when telling his fortune, the apprentice picks the high priestess card, and says to asra, “you’ve forsaken her. you’ve pushed her away, and buried her voice. she calls out to you, but you won’t listen. if you don’t listen to her...”

was in a relationship with julian for an unknown amount of time; it also isn’t known when the relationship started or ended

in his grimoire preview, julian says that asra is a “witch that fears commitment”

gave julian a key to the apprentice’s shop during their relationship; julian reveals he made various house calls, namely to asra’s bedroom (the apprentice had no knowledge of this, nor of their relationship)

left faust behind with the apprentice, stating his instincts told him to after having his fortune read

when glimpsed from the fountain at the palace, as well as in the apprentice’s dreams, asra is in a vast desert atop a “strange beast”

if the player asks where he is, asra answers, “a place inside of me. who would have thought you’d be able to reach me here?”

if asked about his relation to julian, asra admits he was his friend and later became “more. and then something else... something that i had to get away from”

if asked about his relation to nadia, asra says that she was “a dear friend, once. we could talk about anything, everything, all night long. we trusted each other. for a time... but we’re strangers now”

if asked who the apprentice is to them, asra confesses his romantic feelings for them, and then erases the apprentice’s memory of it; the devs have explained this is not a continuous thing

JULIAN

“fugitive doctor who hungers for revenge”

while he is a doctor, he’s an unlicensed one

brother of portia (who refers to him as ilya); the two of them haven’t seen each other in years

went to the palace in order to find a cure for the red plague; nadia  says that julian was lucio’s “trusted physician” before his death

at the last masquerade, julian was implicated in lucio’s murder; the apprentice mentions he was captured (or surrendered) “on the spot”, but before he could be executed, he escaped

wrote a letter to portia while at the palace, which the player / apprentice doesn’t know the entirety of; as it was found among his things at the palace, he might not have sent it to portia

what we know was in the letter: “dear sister, i have... much to share since last i wrote. winter has come to the palace... these marble floors are so cold... each morning...”

looking for asra at the start of the game, which is why he breaks into the shop and meets the apprentice

when telling his fortune, the apprentice picks the death card, but the card doesn’t speak to them; whether it be because of how nervous they are or something else, we don’t know

julian reacts to the card by laughing  and saying “death cast her gaze on this wretch and turned away. she has no interest in an abomination like me”

was given a key to the apprentice’s shop by asra during their relationship; it appears julian didn’t know anything about the apprentice prior to meeting them at the start of the game

isn’t afraid to be seen, as evidenced by his appearance at the marketplace as well as at the rowdy raven tavern

if the player asks about this, julian explains the tavern goers won’t turn him in as they don’t like the palace guards (the apprentice is surprised, as where they live, the cityfolk treat the guards with reverence)

should the player have seen him at the marketplace, they will comment on his presence there, to which julian vaguely answers he “just has one of those faces”

of julian, asra says he’s “a hack physician with a lot to learn” and continues with “who is julian to me... who is he to anyone? whoever he needs to be, to get what he wants”

NADIA

“widowed countess whose word is law”

a foreigner to vesuvia, she lived in prakra (“a vast empire in the north”) before marrying lucio; she misses it deeply, and speaks on length about the sea there

doesn’t feel she can trust most people at the palace, as mentioned by portia

not a magician, however can see visions of the future in her dreams; she dreamt of the apprentice before the start of the game, which is why she sought them out

nadia comments the apprentice was “...different” in her dream

in the same dream, she saw a vision of a future she “will not allow to pass”

when telling her fortune, the apprentice picks the magician card, and says nadia has “a plan. one that’s long in the making. years upon years” that she hopes to put into motion

the devs have revealed that nadia doesn’t love lucio, and might not even harbour any friendly / kind feelings towards him either

regardless, she calls lucio’s death a “vicious injustice upon this house”

when revealing her plan to host another masquerade, she says it will be “more fanatical than ever. fantastical, excuse me”

the cityfolk believe her to be a tyrant, and fear her, much like they did lucio; however they do not love her as they loved lucio

is known to despise magicians and fortune tellers; nadia later explains she doesn’t hate them but is wary of them (as they may be pretending to have magical abilities)

has frequent, recurring headaches, which portia says are getting worse since nadia decided to host another masquerade and find julian

announces (through portia) to the cityfolk that another masquerade will be hosted soon, in honour of lucio --- none of the courtiers were aware of this until the announcement

she hopes the masquerade will lure julian, whom she believes to be lucio’s killer; she wishes to execute him publicly for the crime

wants help from the apprentice in catching julian, through magical means

gifts the apprentice an emerald necklace, which has asra’s magic tied to it; how she came to possess it is not explained

used to be friends with asra, though they are strangers now

of nadia, asra comments, “precious friends, precious experiences... you’d be amazed what people can forget. when they don’t want to remember...”

MURIEL

“fearsome outsider who owes an onerous debt”

muriel and asra are childhood friends, as confirmed by the devs on tumblr

also confirmed is the fact that muriel used to be a gladiator

muriel owes someone - currently unknown - an enormous monetary debt

if the player moves past him in the alley, he warns the apprentice of someone who “will return, uninvited. he will offer you a gift, when you need it most... turn it away. or you will fall into his hand... just like the rest of us” --- it is unknown who he’s referring to

if the player tells him to move in the alley, his warning changes slightly; he says “he will offer you an escape” instead

smells strongly of myrrh; the small leather pouch left on the stoop of the apprentice’s shop smelled of myrrh as well, which the apprentice notes, so it was likely left there by muriel

if the player seeks muriel out before portia’s announcement, asking him where he’s going, muriel answers, “blindly to the slaughter. just like the rest of you”

he later adds: “it doesn’t matter what i say. my words won’t last. they never do”

PORTIA

“trusted handmaiden with a penchant for snooping”

sister of julian (who refers to her as pasha); the two of them haven’t seen each other in years

handmaiden to nadia, and is faithful to her, however her loyalties are skewed due to her relation to julian, which is a secret none know

she is presumably known to be the countess’ favourite servant by the cityfolk

no one apart from her had known of nadia’s plan of hosting another masquerade prior to nadia announcing it during dinner, however she didn’t know nadia plans to capture and kill julian as well

had a tearful reunion with julian at the apprentice’s shop, as well as a conversation with him the apprentice isn’t privy to

snoops on the apprentice’s second meeting with asra at the fountain; depending on the player’s choice, she learns asra and the apprentice are secretly seeing each other via magic and there may be something romantic between them, or that they have feelings for each other and that asra has removed the apprentice’s memories (and has done so before as well)

for now, portia has decided to keep the above information to herself

MISCELLANEOUS

as explained by asra, anyone can do magic, for it is the will to make what you desire reality

the apprentice is believed by asra to be powerful and gifted; nadia comments on this as well, however the apprentice thinks she has mistaken them for asra

BOOKS VI -

ASRA’S ROUTE

the apprentice can hear faust and recalls that “limited communication is possible” between a magician and their familiar; however faust isn’t their familiar, making their sudden communication implausible

the apprentice notices their name having been carved into the tree by the fountain, made by asra; they express confusion, as they have only known each other for a few years, yet the carving looks to be years old

faust shows flashbacks of asra’s time at the palace to the apprentice

in the first flashback, asra mentions julian (whom he refers to as ilya) has begun to think he likes him, although his true affections lie with the apprentice; when faust asks where they are, he answers “a place i can’t follow, yet”

faust leads them to the library, where various books seem to have asra’s magic on them

if the apprentice touches the big tattered tome, they experience a flashback between asra and muriel; muriel pleads asra not to go to the palace, however asra argues the palace has resources he needs

muriel says “and when he rips your heart out?” to which asra replies “he’ll have to get me, first. he’s weak and dying. what could he do? throw his medicine at me? he was dangerous once, i know, but i can handle him”

if the apprentice touches the elegant purple codex, they experience a flashback between asra and nadia; she’s finishing explaining the properties of a fern to asra, and warns him that it’s poisonous before he can try to eat it

if the apprentice touches the gilded monstrosity, they experience another flashback; this time, lucio is heard yelling at julian before julian exits his room; he had attempted to get rid of his plague by using leeches, which didn’t work

if the apprentice touches the alluring volume, they experience another flashback, this one between asra and the apprentice; asra is helping them pick what to wear for the upcoming masquerade

the apprentice expresses confusion over this; they don’t remember ever going to the masquerade with asra, as they didn’t know each other at the time

after touching an oversized red tome, named composium on the stupendencies of the fabric of the human form, the apprentice experiences a flashback between asra and julian

in it, julian’s feelings for asra are clear, however asra is not interested

julian warns asra he shouldn’t keep slacking off and try to actively search for a cure to the red plague, as the count will die without it, and julian is worried “he’ll take you with him"

asra ignores his warnings and leaves, with julian resolving to “make him see reason”

the apprentice is confused about the nature of their relationship and, depending on the player’s choice, can attempt to find out more about them

if the player chooses “i need to see it”, they see a vision of the past wherein julian goes to the shop to speak to asra

when julian asks about what he’s doing in the backroom, asra says it’s “just a magic trick” that is “something from one of those ridiculous tomes”

asra asks if he wants to help, to which julian agrees eagerly; asra draws blood from julian’s hand and, when asked what he used the blood for, says “i’m not sure. i won’t know until it happens. perhaps nothing, perhaps...”

asra warns he can’t give julian what he wants, however julian assures him he’s fine with that; the two then first engage in what appears to be a purely sexual relationship

the apprentice thinks about their memory loss; their first memory is of meeting asra and beyond that there is nothing, any attempt to remember results in headaches

asra has always told them not to try and remember the past, and they have apparently not spoken much about it afterwards

when the apprentice seeks out to asra, he says “i think you’re ready now” and encourages them to reach into the fountain and take his hand

he then pulls them to where he is, which he refers to as an oasis, “a gateway, from one world into the next”

if the player has the apprentice ask why he didn’t tell them about their missing past before, he admits he tried to trigger their memories, but the apprentice would always go catatonic and would only “go back to normal” if he took the memories away again; he kept trying, in a variety of different ways

later, a shadow in the oasis calls to the apprentice, only for asra to stop them from listening to the call; when they turn back, the growing darkness and the shadow are gone

JULIAN’S ROUTE

portia admits that julian is her brother, and if asked, reveals she didn’t know he was back in vesuvia and has no idea why

the apprentice notices red in the banks and stream near a small, isolated part of the palace; the trees nearby are dying as a result

they follow the stream, which leads to one of many aqueducts that provide water for vesuvia’s citizens; “crimson poison” is in the city’s water supply, unbeknownst to anyone

when the apprentice brings this up to julian, he dismisses it and calls it “harmless” as the red plague is over

julian explains that asra cursed julian as a “parting gift”: he can now heal a person’s injuries, however he experiences their injury for a short time as a consequence

julian and the apprentice hide in the house of a person named mazelinka; we learn he often hides there when evading the palace guards

if the player asks julian why he came back, he explains he needs answers and wants to find out the truth; he adds he’d like to ask asra some questions

if the player asks julian if he killed the count, he replies that he asks himself the same thing, before admitting that he doesn’t remember if he did

NADIA’S ROUTE

nadia reveals to the apprentice that her constant headaches are because she has memory loss; whenever she tries to remember something, a headache stops her

she doesn’t remember the count whatsoever, though does know she was married to him for a long time, and the last thing she remembers is moving to vesuvia (which was years ago)

the apprentice informs her of their own memory loss, and that they had dealt with headaches themself before; they realize their shared loss of memories can’t be a coincidence

what nadia has learned so far: julian was seen escaping from count lucio’s room while it was on fire by multiple eyewitnesses; he later confessed to killing the count, only to escape from the dungeon the night before he was to be executed for the crime

nadia’s currently keeping her missing memories a secret; only portia---and now the apprentice---knows the truth

nadia and the apprentice learn from consul valerius, who was in the count’s wing on the night of lucio’s murder, that the courtiers (praetor vlastomil, pontifex vulgora, procurator volta, and quaestor valdemar) were there before him

he recounts that julian was inside the bedroom, and the courtiers were “shrieking things as they gathered around the door. at first [he] assumed they were after the doctor. some of the things they said... [he] remember[s] one. ‘he won’t get away with this.’ [he] assumed...”

the reason behind the courtiers’ presence in the wing is unknown, apart from valdemar’s as he was head physician; they were attempting to enter the count’s room when julian came outside, however the courtiers didn’t try to arrest him until valerius revealed himself

valerius confirms the count was one of the last victims of the red plague, however this was kept secret; the count invited experts to the palace as he wanted the cure for himself

if asked why he went to the count’s rooms, valerius becomes visibly uncomfortable and does not answer the question

portia informs the apprentice how some time after count lucio’s death, nadia “entered a deep sleep”; when portia began working at the palace, nadia had been asleep for almost a year

three months ago, nadia suddenly and inexplicably woke up, which coincides with her memory loss

as said earlier, if you find / know anything integral to the plot that’s not mentioned before, or if you believe i may have made a mistake somewhere, do contact me and let me know! :)

[kill-me-while-you-still-can]

Holy shit just saw a post with a lot of tumblr user pizza apparitions and i figured out i might as well call him to see what happens

Pizza man, i invoke you

[wallpaperpainter]

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[explosion-inc]

I saw another tumblr user wanted to read scary stories so I'll post this in their scary story tag ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When I was a bad little punk ass 16 year old, I lived in a campsite with my family bc we were homeless, anyways, it was around mid November, and a friend and I were out further in the woods,where the campsite no longer used the land anymore. There was a pond and an abandoned bathroom.

First off, I knew from the start that the bathroom had...stuff going in. It was boarded up and chained up and over all creepy looking. But there we were in the woods, smoking weed. It was kinda windy and made it inconvenient. That's when I noticed the back door was kicked in.

What did me and my friend do? You guessed it. We went in. Its was old,and dusty and big and dark. There was a sink in the father room. I think it was a kitchen they used in the 60's oddly enough. I took an all employees must wash hands sign off the wall, and put it in my bag. We only had one hit from the pipe before we heard...a weird sound. Like a man. I looked to my friend,she looked to me. She thought it was just her, but there was some one there. I grabbed a broom (so lucky amirite?)

So we walk back into the other room. I called out, assuming it was a drug using man, and calling out to who ever was there that I was armed and not afraid to defend myself. No one was there. I checked every book and cranny.

We left. And went back around to the bathroom. Now I just should add now,I was a DUMB teenager. SO DUMB. we just sat around in front of the bathroom. We heard sounds from the woman's bathroom. A weird,weird sound like a gurgling gargle sound. No one could get in with out going in through the roof,and if you go in through the roof you'll get hurt. No one could get in.

I THE FOOL I AM, IN MY HUBRIS went to the chained,padlocked door.

I knocked 'the shaves and a hair cut' placing my ear against the door.

The door shook violently twice.

Horror. I felt something so evil.

I looked to my friend in the eyes,not able to calculate what happened.

We ran.

But guess what! I forgot my bag! And I wasnt gonna leave it. I run back to the door and grab the bag. I fall to my knees and my vision went black for 20 seconds. I stood up and ran back down the hill with my bag.

You probably think that's the end of my story?

NOPE!

We went back ;^3c

We recorded things. We got evidence of that spirit threatening us

We went back again,and heckled the apparition, sang obnoxiously to the apparition, went out of our ways to be annoying.

He followed us. In our dreams,in our homes,at school.

We had become accustomed to saying

"It was the demon" anytime something bad and supernatural happened.

It was the last day of school before winter break when were putting up the chairs on the desks for the custodians, 10 seconds before the bell rang when a chair went flying off the table. "It was the demon..." I whispered. A boy ran out before the bell,terrified of the spirit.

December went by,and everyone acted strange and agitated all break long. It was December 29th. My 17th birthday. I was looking through my bag. I found the sign I took. I remembered the sign. Against my friend's better judgement I walked back myself. The back door was locked up once again so I couldnt return it to it's original place.

As I walked up to the bathroom door,I could feel the intensity of the area.

"Hi..." I said softly.

The horrid unexplainable gargling happened immediately. I was horrified but I had to do what I had to do. I was the theif after all.

"I'm sorry I took this...I can't return it inside. I'll leave it here" I placed it on top of the brick wall surrounding the bathroom.

"I vow my friend and I will never return."

And we didnt. And everything went back to normal that day.

I don't live there anymore. When I ride the train sometimes,I can see the bathroom in which he resides. In a dream he told me to call him black. Now when I pass his bathroom on the train, I say goodbye to him. I feel it's only proper.