Tea is a Cup of Life
You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (via quitethehumanitarian)
Broken Chords of a Song (M!Aed Brent/The Teaseller)

askthehuntermusician:

theteaseller:

When he woke, even before he opened his eyes, he could smell the Anon’s magic. It was too strong an odor to come from Brent—so he conjured another Silver rope to wrap around the Anon’s limbs, torso, and head. Only when the rope was pulled taut did The Teaseller sit up, glaring venomously at the grey being.
"State the truth of your business here, swine, and you may leave in one piece. If you lie…" The rope tightened further. "…This rope can be an iron maiden in a blink."

"Oooo~ I’m so scared." The anon wiggled its legs a bit only to say "I’m absolutely terrified! Eheheeee… Heard you bitching to the wind about me, so I thought I’d pay a lil’ visit~"

The rope tightened again to keep the Anon from moving, then sprouted spikes that stabbed into its grey flesh.
"You aren’t welcome here," The Teaseller insisted, his tone utterly frigid. "Unless you’ve come to remove your curse from Brent, the best thing you can do for yourself is vanish." Another tautening of the spiked rope, the spikes pulling briefly through the Anon’s wounds. "No lies. I assure you, I will know if you do.”

Send my muse “Why do you hate yourself?” for their reaction.
softboycollective:

thebluelip-blondie:

my white protesters please remember that you’re rarely at the same risk we are when you stand up for what is right

I’m not gonna stop reblogging these reminders

softboycollective:

thebluelip-blondie:

my white protesters please remember that you’re rarely at the same risk we are when you stand up for what is right

I’m not gonna stop reblogging these reminders

theteaseller started following you

2500-tons-0f-awesome:

Catching a strange scent Newt lifted his gaze from his work, seeing the newcomer arrive.

"Hey, boss is out at the moment, can I help?"

They seemed rather over dressed compared to Hannibal’s usual clientele who tended to adorn themselves in gaudy suits.

Slippers whisking almost silently across the floor, The Teaseller smiled as he approached, “It’s nothing of great urgency. Only that, a place like this must have many hard-working people, and I thought such diligence deserves a reward of fresh tea.” He gestured to the silver Teapot slung over his shoulder.

(( OMG I have 130 followers! ))

(( Thank you all so much! <3 ))

Broken Chords of a Song (M!Aed Brent/The Teaseller)

askthehuntermusician:

theteaseller:

He smiled, the expression taut, fragile, and pained. “I am thousands of years old, ljubzhein. A few decades is nothing to me. I will wait, because I know this is not you, and I know the magic will fade. The powers of Anons are always temporary. They cannot best me.”
The Teaseller bowed to the younger man, a bit stiffly.
"I hope when we next meet, you will be yourself again. Farewell."
He turned and walked back into his tea-shop. Only when the door was shut between them did he let himself collapse into sobs, doubled over and hugging himself tightly.
After several minutes, he drew a deep breath and vented to the Anon responsible, even though they weren’t there.
"Is this what you want? Do you so loathe the fleeting happiness of world-weary men that you seek to steal it at every turn? Are you never satisfied?! Is your cruelty so boundless?!" The walls creaked from the outpouring of his pain and rage. "Well, hear me now: you won’t succeed. You will never succeed. Whether this curse is a day or a decade, know that I will endure it. And know…that you and your kind have made an enemy of me."

Weary from the burst of raw emotion, The Teaseller placed the ‘Closed’ sign in the front window and headed up to the second floor. He flopped onto his bed, and was soon deep in a dreamless sleep.

Well. Not quite so. 

The anon responsible was there. And stayed there, despite the outburst The Teaseller had. And was still there when the man woke up the next day, smiling at the end of the bed.

When he woke, even before he opened his eyes, he could smell the Anon’s magic. It was too strong an odor to come from Brent—so he conjured another Silver rope to wrap around the Anon’s limbs, torso, and head. Only when the rope was pulled taut did The Teaseller sit up, glaring venomously at the grey being.
"State the truth of your business here, swine, and you may leave in one piece. If you lie…" The rope tightened further. "…This rope can be an iron maiden in a blink."

gendest:

because a lot of people dont seem to get this:

  • golems are from jewish folklore. dont treat them like a generic fantasy creature, thats appropriative
  • kabbalah is a specifically jewish religious tradition. dont practice it if youre not jewish and dont use kabbalah symbolism as generic occult stuff, thats appropriative
  • for the record if it has hebrew on it and it doesnt have anything to do with judaism its probably appropriative
  • dont wear a magen david if youre not jewish, its used as a symbol for judaism so wearing it if youre a gentile is appropriative
  • while im at it heres a rundown of some terms you should know
  • goy: hebrew and yiddish for non-jewish person, it literally translates as “nation.” the plural form is goyim. goy is not a slur.
  • gentile: english for non-jewish person
  • anti-semitism: you probably know what this means but i just want to point out that the word anti-semitism was NOT coined by jews but by a german anti-semite who wanted a more scientific-sounding alternative to “judenhass,” which literally translates to “jew-hatred” so please shut up about how arabs are also semites. we know.
  • if you’re not jewish you should also avoid using the word “jew” since many jewish people are uncomfortable with it (though i personally am fine with it). use “jewish person” instead if youre a gentile

please reblog this if you’re not jewish, i almost never see gentiles acknowledging cultural appropriation of judaism and anti-semitism on tumblr, even among people who otherwise pay close attention to such issues

Broken Chords of a Song (M!Aed Brent/The Teaseller)

askthehuntermusician:

theteaseller:

He took a deep, slow breath, set his jaw, and met the other’s grayed gaze. “Fine; I welcome it. I have no organs for you to tear out, no bones for you to break. I still swear I won’t harm or fight you, but I will outlast this magic you’re under,” The Teaseller retorted firmly, finally letting go of Brent, hands clenched into fists. “And I won’t stop helping people either. You aren’t yourself, so I’ll endure this farce until the real Brent comes back.”
Pushing himself back a little, The Teaseller stood, brushed off his clothes, and—with some difficulty—pulled out the crossbow bolt from his leg. Though he winced again when it was removed, he managed to stay standing as he tossed the bolt at Brent’s feet.

"Then you’re just fucking kidding yourself." Snapping his fingers, the bolt jolted up into his hand as he stood up. "This? This is me. I am a Hunter. This is what I am, what I always will be. And I will make sure you don’t harm anyone again."

He smiled, the expression taut, fragile, and pained. “I am thousands of years old, ljubzhein. A few decades is nothing to me. I will wait, because I know this is not you, and I know the magic will fade. The powers of Anons are always temporary. They cannot best me.”
The Teaseller bowed to the younger man, a bit stiffly.
"I hope when we next meet, you will be yourself again. Farewell."
He turned and walked back into his tea-shop. Only when the door was shut between them did he let himself collapse into sobs, doubled over and hugging himself tightly.
After several minutes, he drew a deep breath and vented to the Anon responsible, even though they weren’t there.
"Is this what you want? Do you so loathe the fleeting happiness of world-weary men that you seek to steal it at every turn? Are you never satisfied?! Is your cruelty so boundless?!" The walls creaked from the outpouring of his pain and rage. "Well, hear me now: you won’t succeed. You will never succeed. Whether this curse is a day or a decade, know that I will endure it. And know…that you and your kind have made an enemy of me."

Weary from the burst of raw emotion, The Teaseller placed the ‘Closed’ sign in the front window and headed up to the second floor. He flopped onto his bed, and was soon deep in a dreamless sleep.

Broken Chords of a Song (M!Aed Brent/The Teaseller)

askthehuntermusician:

theteaseller:

He grimaced at the spike of fresh pain, but barely managed to keep his grip on the younger man.
"I do know you," The Teaseller insisted past shaky breaths. "I know you, and I love you. You called me your Song. You hated your mother so much that when Anons brought her back, I held her down while you killed her. You stayed beside me when I had the dark bile of thousands eating through my veins. Our first night of intimacy was on your kitchen counter, when you treated me so sweetly I thought, just maybe, I could be forgiven for letting them defile me."
Fresh tears welled and spilled over.
"I may not be your Song anymore…but you will always be my ljubzhein. Do whatever you like; you can’t kill me. I know the truth, and I’ll tell it until you remember it too.”

"…Have half a mind to do that right now. ….But a pathetic being like you? Begging for someone you don’t even know? …Nah. I think I’ll just leave you here. To bleed in the street. ….And don’t think I won’t watch you. The SECOND you ‘invite’ others in? To steal their selves, their being… I will find you. I will find a way to kill you."

He took a deep, slow breath, set his jaw, and met the other’s grayed gaze. “Fine; I welcome it. I have no organs for you to tear out, no bones for you to break. I still swear I won’t harm or fight you, but I will outlast this magic you’re under,” The Teaseller retorted firmly, finally letting go of Brent, hands clenched into fists. “And I won’t stop helping people either. You aren’t yourself, so I’ll endure this farce until the real Brent comes back.”
Pushing himself back a little, The Teaseller stood, brushed off his clothes, and—with some difficulty—pulled out the crossbow bolt from his leg. Though he winced again when it was removed, he managed to stay standing as he tossed the bolt at Brent’s feet.