#trucidavit

[dumbfinntales]

(I decided to do something interesting and try and review a book I read recently completely in Latin! The book contained several fairy tales all translated into Latin, and it was interesting. Quite different than I was expecting. So I’ll try my best to express my thoughts in this long dead language. You can use google translate or something if you’re curious, but the translations might be off. And of course I’ll make mistakes. Non Romanus sum.)

Nuperrime librum legi titulo “Fabulae Gallicae” ac quam iucundae! In libro multae fabellae continentur a Carolo Peralto scriptae. Fabellae Anglice “fairy tales” vocantur et fortasse satis notae. Lingua Latina in eo pulchra erat et multis novis verbis exornatur. Nonnulla verba erant insolita raraque, ita ut in praefatio dictum erat.

Quid novi didici? Profecto ista verba de quibus mentionem feci supra! Sclopetum fortasse notum est vobis, nam est arma hodierna. Validum telum quidem, quo potes eminus pugnare. In fabulis, praesertim Nordicis, Orcos invenire posses. Haud vere scio si “orcus” idem sit sicut “troll”, sed hanc imaginem in mentem venit.

Una fabula erat miranda. Fabula de homine “Caeruleobarbus” nominatur. Qua re tale insolita nomen? Nam homo erat barbo caeruleo quod eum tam foedam reddidit ut nemo ei nubat! Initio eum hominem miserum esse existimavi at, mirabile et fortasse miserabile dictu, homo malus et mortiferus erat! Nam uxores suas crudeliter et immisericorditer trucidavit, tamquam bestia. In fine vero, is poenas dedit et vitam reliquit.

Fabulis admodum fruebar et vehementer plures fabulas legere cupio! Haec omnia erat quod dicere vellem, quapropter vale atque curate ut valeatis!

[jackrxckham]

📱

Send 📱 for five texts my muse didn’t send yours, and one that they did  |  @trucidavit​

[Text: Miranda] When did fuck you become synonymous with thank you. You would think that the amount of times I resolve the conflict I deserve a chance to receive due gratitude. [UNSENT]

[Text: Miranda] Coffee? It is by far time for us to talk about the failings of the bold and the lack of application of intelligence occurring within our social circles. [UNSENT]

[Text: Miranda] Rain check on that coffee. I am currently driving an imbecile to hospital after a moment idiocy has left him with what I suspect is a broken arm. No sympathy of course, but a headache on my hands if I do not get him the attention he needs. [UNSENT]

[Text: Miranda] GIVE ME FUCKING STRENGTH [UNSENT]

[Text: Miranda] Please do tell me how you manage to keep yourself so calm in the face of frustrations because currently my temper is incapable of maintaining itself [UNSENT]

--

[Text: Miranda] Why are the rabble so exhaustingly imperceptive to what is going on in front of their very noses because they are too busy comparing the size of what they carry in their trousers? 

[deathisachoice]

Calloused fingers flex before they reach for the small stack of paper at the center of the table. She’s still talking, a mile a minute---he’s lost track of what she’s saying a few hits back. He uses an old business card from one of the better fishing charters down on the south side of the island to cut an eighth and arrange it on the paper. 

She’s still talking. Perhaps he should tune back in. He finishes rolling his joint, lights it, then sits back and tries to focus. 

“ Roll up another joint, ‘randa. ”   Vane pushes the jar and stack of papers towards her.   “ Take a fuckin’ minute to think about the power of your words. ”

So he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, it’s not the first time. He has something of a reputation for hitting on the deep shit when he’s high. 

“ We’re living in the currents you create. ”   He takes a hit, closes his eyes, and lets his head roll back.

@trucidavit

[princesircastic-archive]

Try + Zelena

SEND  TRY + A CHARACTER  YOU’D LIKE TO SEE ME ( ATTEMPT ) TO WRITE ! | Accepting

She would never get the hang of this.

There was an almighty crunch as the car jolted forward, and her hands tightened on the wheel as frustration threatened to explode like the ticking time bomb it was. Why on earth people had decided this was an acceptable means of travel, she didn’t know. It was just yet another thing to add to the list of reasons she detested not having her magic.

Even more frustrating was the grin on the face of her sole passenger, and supposed teacher. She couldn’t really complain - at least, she shouldn’t - because damn near everyone else had given up trying. He, at least, was stubborn enough to push through. “David…” She turned to him, and gave him her sweetest smile - which, of course, was so uncharacteristic under the circumstances that it held just the right amount of warning. “…just a reminder that I don’t need magic to wipe that stupid grin off your face.”

[intolerablexsacrifice]

Inattention

@trucidavit (from here)

If there was anything men could be counted on for, it was getting lost in the drama of their own thoughts, of their own making. The lieutenant was no different. If anything, he was a shining example of the rule.

“Mm.” Miranda hummed, regarding him for a moment before leaning forward to speak quietly. “I’ll call for your coat.” Retracting her hand, she stood, flashing a smile as she rang the bell to be attended to. Let him suffer momentarily in thinking she was simply dismissing him for his inattention.

James blinked at her, evidently caught off-guard; he rose instinctively as Miranda did, eyes following her with open confusion. He had not expected to be dismissed so quickly, and wasn’t quite sure what the cause might be. His heart sank, just a little. 

“Lady Hamilton--” He knew they were past formalities- Thomas would have clicked in disapproval had he been within earshot- but it was always James’ habit to fall back on them in moments like these. James’ voice lowered, brow slightly furrowed despite his best attempts to look neutral. “Have I displeased you?”

[otruaighe-blog]

"We need hope, or else we cannot endure." @James

↪a court of thorns and roses sentence starters // @trucidavit // accepting        ↪ james flint

       Hope? What is hope buta tool, like any other. Kept in a scabbard of a man’s ribcage,sharpened with their emotions. Flint had used hope as a tool, he hadused hope to manipulate his crew, to manipulate a situation into hisfavour.

I’m not just gonnamake you rich. I’m not just gonna make you strong. I’m gonna make youthe princes of the New World!

Wordshe had told his men once. Words to give them hope. Words to gethimself out of a corner he was backed into. But he would not goquietly, he was all teeth and claws and broken, sharpened edges.

Hopewas his, hope was plans made in front of the fire, warmwhiskey kisses and gentle touches. The smell of parchment and ink onhis skin as they had poured over their ideas—his ideals.

Flintsighed heavily as he reached up to run a hand through his hair,scraping it back against his scalp as he tried to shake away the memories.

“I’mafraid I have no hope left, Miranda” He said quietly. What hope he had died with Thomas.

[tidefated]

Evening or morning? Hot weather or cold weather? Snow or rain? Sweet or savory? @cutler

Send me “either/or” questions about my muse.

Evenings in England, mornings in Africa and the Caribbean. Generally speaking, he is more of an evening person, however in a hot environment like Africa and the Caribbean, the heat is still downright unbearable for him, and so he tends to prefer mornings, when life is still at a manageable temperature after the night.

That said, he will choose hot weather over cold- cold comes with a number of other inconveniences beyond discomfort, and he has a tendency to get sick more often than others in cold weather, partially due to his unfortunate habit of not realising just how cold it really is as a result of his rather terrible circulation.

He will take rain over snow any day- snow might be very pretty, and it might remind him of his sister in an odd, nostalgic way, but in terms of practicality rain is absolutely the more preferable of the two.

He actually likes sweet and savory quite evenly-  he likes his meals very well balanced, and so has an equal respect for each. However, when snacking, on the rare occasion that he does, he will reach for a sweet before anything else.

[mxmcria]

"We are not family anymore." >: ]

@trucidavit

[loyxltyloyxlty]

starter for @trucidavit from Theo

                 ❝ Miranda! What a peculiar surprise...❞

[butalsoofcompassion-blog]

"Tomorrow is another day."

“Yes, and one that’s been made so much harder for today’s mistakes,” he insists, irate--before catching himself, and taking a breath. “I...apologize,” he says, after a moment. “None of this is your fault, of course, I just...”

He sighs, running a hand over his hair. “Thank you. You’re right.” Then, a tired smile curling his mouth; “But it’s still irritating.”

[allhcndsondeck-blog]

"Today's lost are conquerors tomorrow." @hook

“I hardly think the rapscallions that spend their days flinging slingshots at my ship stand much of a chance of conquering anything.” Hook continued to pour the wine but seriously considered neglecting the second glass for his guest. Such assertions were only in the poorest of taste, after all. “Unless, of course, you mean my patience.” 

[kolanii-a-blog]

"Aren't you tired of lying to yourself?" @flint

Flint is quiet for a long time, gripping the edge of the counter top, staring out through the kitchen window at a world of sunlight and greenery, a simple world, a life he cannot access. It seems as though he might not answer Miranda at all- or worse, with the whitening of his knuckles and the tension in his jaw, it seems his temper might explode as it so often does- until a heavy, hissing sigh pulls from behind his teeth.

Every time she speaks of what they’ve lost–every time she guesses at how James feels about it, about him–something in him flinches and recoils. Maybe the wound is still too raw. Or maybe she’s right about the shame–

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Flint says, eventually. He sounds exhausted. Doesn’t want to snap at her, or push her further away when she’s become his whole world and he hers. But it’s a constant effort to keep the anger (the only outlet he has for the shame) in check. “I’m tired… of a lot of things.”

[jackrxckham]

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY loser

If I’m one of your favorite blogs send me “hey loser”  |  Accepting

HEYYYYYYYY YOURSELF 

(you of course are also one of my dearest losers ;D #squad) 

[deathisachoice]

@intolerablexsacrifice​ replied :

As It Should Be B)

// welcome to the kate show. i’m a shitpost.

---

@trucidavit replied : 

@Vane baths are a choice too 🙃

// don’t ever talk to me or my dirty son ever again

[silvertonguedopportunist]

"Maybe you should sit down."

“No, I’m fine,” John insists, continuing to gather up the charts. The truth is, he can’t sit down. He might be down a leg now, but he still knows this bone-tiredness that sinks in right before he gets really sick. At least they’re on Nassau at the moment, with no immediate plans for the next hunt, so he can do what he always does. Go find a place to hide and wait out being sick.

But he has to finish, and if he sits down, if he lets himself stop for a moment, he won’t be able to get back up again.

@trucidavit

[otruaighe-blog]

I followed u bc I was like !! new flint! And then found out u were actually one of my favs from way back. Turns out ur still gr8 💘💘💘

↪ Tell me why you followed me and what made you stay.

AHHHHHHHH bless you so much!! I was so so so happy when you followed this blog I was like FRIEND!!!! I’m so happy to have found you again!