I Sent You Omens And All Kinds Of Signs, I Taught You Melodies, Poems And Rhymes

This. For the love of goodness you lot need to grow up and chill out. I don't even interact with the fandom because of how much of a shitshow it is out there. Get real. Oh and anyone who harasses actors, writers, producers, etc, or anyone at all involved with a media production because you don't like their choices/don't like them, you should be ashamed of yourselves.

I always say I hate getting into a fandom because of the inevitable discourse. You shippers remain some of the absolute worst part of the fandom. I'm not saying all shippers btw. The shippers who draw art of their favorite couples and “ship” different characters but also respect other people's “ships” cause y'know it's fiction and stuff at the end of the day, y'all are cool people. Just wanna say I love your unproblematic asses. You see the others, please go bite the dust. Why the fuck are you so mean? These people are NOT REAL!!!! The new season of hotd hasn't even started and y'all are already back on your bullshit. Being racist and sending death threats towards the cast and other people in the fandom and just overall being fuckin vile human beings because “your ship doesn't make sense or have chemistry or yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah” STFU!. LEAVE THE ACTORS ALONE, LEAVE THE PRODUCERS AND THE SHOW STAFF ALONE. LEAVE OTHER PEOPLE ALONE!! GO OUTSIDE AND BREATHE THE FRESH AIR, THE SHIT IS NEVER THAT SERIOUS. SEVEN FUCKIN HELLS MAN. Let's use Beth and Harry for an example, the stuff that comes from some of your accounts are absolutely vile and I wish you the fuckin worst. Then y'all love quoting “but they're not following the source material” to justify y'all being racist and nasty towards them. I have some news for you. If you read the books and not just gloss over what you wanna read you'd know that their characters were inevitably endgame had everything went right, there was no such thing as “BROKEBACK WINTERFELL”, as fun as that plot would've been, Jace and Cregan had a brotherly relationship and “Sara Snow” was just Mushroom only account and he wasn't even near or in Winterfell, so it was probably just his “fevered musings” she probably 100% didn't even exist, it was a campaign to slander Rhaenyra and her children and that's canon. Calling Bethany all sorts of vile things cause you're not in the writers room and can't write your headcanons is sick. Sending death threats to Harry is absolutely mental. Seek professional help!! Not just them alone but you get the gist. Please just try to be decent people. You don't have to like something everybody else probably likes but you also don't have to be a CUNT for no apparent reason. IT'S JUST FICTION. LET'S JUST WATCH THE SHITSHOW AND HAVE FUN.

new favorite YouTube comment just dropped

D E V O T I O N

Magic in her Blood: story concept

(This is an idea I played around with. I might make a small series out of it if some people are interested)

Please do not replicate my work anywhere without my permission :)

*

Smoke filled the streets of Small Heath, workmen feeding coal to metal beasts, breathing in the toxic air. The noise of their exploits echoed over the slated roofs, carrying for miles, and allowing for a cloaked figure to pass by silently.

Her eyes flashed with each burst of flame, catching the depth and piercing brightness of their blue. A pointed, angled hat cast shadow over her features, the glint of steel on the brim a warning to all those who are prey, and obscuring everything but the subtly smirking lips; painted blood red.

She passed through Small Heath with no opposition, no second glances, for all those who saw her, knew. This woman was one of them.

Granddaughter of a Romani king, princess of the Peaky Blinders, and all round predator. Sarah Shelby walked the streets of Birmingham like royalty, because that's exactly what she was.

The doors to the Garrison swung open, and heads came up, only to dip down again in respect. And fear. A few newcomers stared, until one of their friends shoved their heads to the table. 

She swept along the bar, plucking whiskey and a glass on her way. Her heels clicked off the wooden floor, a quiet power spilling out from the smooth, rolling silk that hugged her figure. Equally dark curls bounced upon her shoulders as she turned her head, one last look falling over the pub before she vanished into the private booth.

The Shelby boys all looked up, grins appearing on their faces and papers being set down. To those outside, nothing would have shocked them more than to know she returned the smiles.

"Good to see you again, boys," she said, sitting adjacent from the eldest sibling, Arthur.

"And you, sister," Thomas said, "we'd begun to think ourselves too common for your tastes."

"Oh, not at all," Sarah replied, matching the smirk he wore as she poured herself a drink, "I merely had some business of my own to attend," she said, and crossed her legs.

The air, filled with smoke from their cigarettes, tasted bitter on her tongue. Something hung there, unspoken, interrupted. It seeped into the old wood, spinning around the circular booth like a wailing spirit, begging for freedom.

Eyes narrowed, Sarah regarded her brothers with a tilted head. "What's happened?"

John chuckled, glancing over at Thomas and bouncing his leg. Little humour was to be found in his face, only a rather satisfied "I-told-you-so" gleam in his eye.

The two elders exchanged a brief look, and Arthur gestured towards her, raising another cigarette to his lips and leaving Thomas to answer the question.

"There is a copper from Belfast sticking his nose in our business," he explained, hands clasped on the table he leant on, "and he's causing problems."

"Now the barmaid makes sense," Sarah murmured, sipping her whiskey and gazing at it as the liquid swirled.

The brothers straightened in their seats. Thomas wet his lips. "What do you mean?"

She raised her eyes to them, one eyebrow arched. "A copper from Belfast comes along, poking his snout where it isn't wanted, and a beautiful Irish girl suddenly drops into Harry's lap; surely you don't think it's a coincidence?"

John and Arthur laughed, but quickly stopped, noticing the missing voice. Thomas stared at his sister, heart hammering in his chest, and fell back against the bench.

"Grace is not working for Inspector Campbell," he said, in a tone that seemed directed more at himself than anyone else.

Sarah drew her wand from its sheath at her side, rolling the cool instrument in her grasp. The familiar touch sent gentle sparks flying as she waved it through the air.

They each gulped, glancing at one another and backing up, further away from the weapon. But Thomas met her eyes, and smirked.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

Wow, Tumblr is fuckin' HYPE for the Ides of March this year. I wonder why that could possibly be.

Two Wizards; One Soul

Little bit of dark!Dumbledore, and mostly rosy wording. I wrote this while listening to a Grindellore playlist on youtube, where I also posted this story. (I don't have the link right now but I will add it later). Nothing inappropriate!

_________________________________

Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald are the most powerful couple to have lived; the entire Wizarding World lay sprawled at their feet long before any ministry had the chance to act against them. No power remained to oppose either wizard alone, certainly not both.

They revelled in each other, drunk on power and the burning love shared between the two. No one else existed in their world, except them. Magic burst from their fingertips at a whim, and with the Deathly Hallows on their side, nothing could part Gellert and Albus, not even death.

Instead of revealing the world of magic, they infiltrated ever muggle powerhouse on earth, whether it be government or economies - it all fell to their influence, and without realising it, the world of the muggles came under the rule of Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

Many attempted to challenge them, rebellions that were crushed before the spark could become flame. But these new rulers were not cruel, only interested in peace and the end of fear. Any who disagreed possessed little power to do anything about it.

The two men, physically so different, bore twin souls, entwined by a searing, deadly love that overruled everything. Defied every possibility, spit in the face of doubt, and smothered the idea of the word impossible. Together, there was nothing Albus and Gellert could not achieve.

*

Dark eyes glittering, Dumbledore met the eyes of his lover. No. The eyes of his soulmate. What other word could describe them? From the moment they met, love blossomed with every word and stolen glance. He used to fear its burn, before he gave in and relished the power.

Grindelwald looked back at him, pale hair glinting in the moonlight. To anyone else, the apparent blankness of his face would put doubt in their mind; but Dumbledore, who knew him better than anyone, saw the bright fire flickering in his gaze. Those eyes, contrasting, clashing, but ultimately the same, spoke to Albus on a level nothing else could.

Magic crackled around them, the very air alive with their energy. Reflected in his soulmate's eyes, Albus saw themselves, and longed to stay there forever. The world could burn to ash, and he would not care, only if Gellert stayed too.

"My dear," came his voice, low, rough, laced with the chill of his homeland winds, yet still igniting fire in Albus' gut, "the day is fading."

Grappling for air to respond, Dumbledore unconciously stepped closer. "Time to go?"

Grindelwald's hand cupped his face, stroking over the trimmed beard for a moment. "Time to go."

With one last look at the smouldering ruins of MACUSA, they vanished, closer in embrace than any human could ever hope to be spiritually.

Their love, though hot and damaging to the touch, would change the world.

In fact, it already had.

"Edmund, I've got a bad feeling" is such a funny line if you take it in context with the "the last time I didn't believe Lucy, I ended up looking pretty stupid" line from PC. Because Caspian and co are probably like... yeah bad feeling, it's Eustace, what good feelings could you have? but then Edmund's probably thinking something like... dear god, please don't let this be as dramatic as the last few times, we don't have enough men to fight another war rn.

and he will roam forever, haunting the desert

dead man's hand - lord huron

Ploop ploop ploop

This is why we are fighting the capitalist system and why we support Luigi. His name was Cole Schmidtknecht. Look him up, he was young. He died of ASTHMA because he couldn't afford his inhaler due to the greed of insurance companies. He could be your brother, your best friend, etc.