#Wizard WIP

[pegglefan69]

Entering A Vampire Mood does mean, I must- at last -reckon with Carmine & Norris' feelings about Anne Rice & her oeuvre. Oh Boy.

[kitsunecrows]

gods (and their reluctant wingmen)

[lacquerheadd]

pov: you glance over during training in camp

[slumpsnail]

I got a new brush, so I drew some of my favorite Gale screenshots. I love drawing his hair and his sparkly, puppy eyes.

[miomyrra]

they have so much POTENTIAL

[allaboutlov3]

I can’t stop thinking about the discussion James and Regulus must have had when Harry was sorted into Gryffindor. James would smirk at Regulus for a looooong time.

But oh how sweet Regulus comeback was when Harry was chosen as seeker for the quidditch team.

[bunnieswithknives]

Im not dead I prommy

[kbergceramics]

✨bringing the wizard jars to life ✨ carving their faces is soooo so much fun. i love seeing what personalities arise 🧙🏻✨

[benisbeaaaaans]

WIP

[rosefuckinggenius]

Hands 🌸🌿

LITTLE WIP

[handledwithgloves]

cursed drarry for @the-forbidden-forest ‘s art palette challenge!!

[pegglefan69]

Norris wasn’t sure if his Waiting Room Friend was gay or a hipster. (The possibility that he might be a gay hipster, or even a metrosexual had also crossed his mind.) His Waiting Room Friend was short and fat and hairy and always dressed Mod-meets-modern or Peacock Revolution with the Technicolor toned down. Today’s outfit featured a chartreuse turtleneck and several strings of multicolor glass beads. His jacket– brown corduroy, with pointy lapels–was draped over one shapely, skinny-jean-clad thigh. His hair was wavy, tousled and dark. As always, he was stunning, but his clothes gave Norris zero concrete hints as to his sexuality. ... Their introductions had consisted of, “Can I get a light, big guy?” Norris had glanced over, seen nothing, and then looked down. “Oh. Sure.”  Despite his Waiting Room Friend being a foot shorter than him, it felt to Norris like it was the other way around. His presence was magnetic. It compelled him. They didn't even spend a lot of time together– just talking and smoking, leaning against the concrete pillars a little bit down the plaza –but the way he considered anything Norris had to say, however quietly or sporadically he said it, had Norris thinking about him long after they’d parted.

Chapter Five of my ongoing novel project is here! It's a long one! We learn a little about Norris' teenhood, meet his crush, & he & Rufus attempt to start their search for Rufus' apprentice, but run into a magical complication.

If you haven't started reading yet, & 'early 2000s trans Goth accidentally gets involved in a gay wizard’s revenge quest against his former apprentice/lover’ sounds like fun, you can start reading here, for free! 🧙🌈

[trashmancer]

babygale 💜

[nevvn]

sending out the tiny green wizard to terrorize your screen >:)

bonus under the cut 💃

he can also dance 👯‍♀️🎵

[findafight]

Thinking about Dorothy, twelve and scared and wanting to go home, walking back to the Emerald city after throwing water on the Wicked Witch of the West. The adrenaline wears off as her and her companions, her friends, set up camp for the night, and it hits her. She's killed a woman.

Again.

And brave little Dorothy Gale tries to hold it together, tries not to worry the wonderful new friends who have supported her throughout her journey in Oz, tries to be brave. But eventually, once Lion and Toto are cuddled up and asleep, Tin Man has taken to staring into the small fire, and Scarecrow stays just inside the circle of light staring up at the stars, Dorothy lets herself cry.

She shifts to hide it, lies down and curls away from the fire, muffles her sniffles in the blanket they've carried for her. All the fear and loneliness, the frustration, the guilt that has built up since she dropped into Oz spilling silently out.

She breathes deep, trying to contain the sobs, until there's a hand on her shoulder, and Scarecrow is there looking at her worriedly. His eyes are buttons but the burlap surrounding them folds and crinkles around them, stitched eyebrows furrowing. She sits up slowly, watching as he tilts his head to the side, squeezing her shoulder gently.

Suddenly, she wraps her arms tightly around Scarecrow's middle, needing the comfort of a hug. (Dorothy is brave, yes, but she is twelve and homesick and guilt ridden.) She burrows her face into his chest, breathes in the familiar scent of straw. Her friend carefully rubs his hands down her back, whispering reassurances that she can't accept.

"oh, Scarecrow! I didn't want to kill her! I never--i never wanted to hurt anyone. I-I just want to go home!"

Scarecrow pauses, stills unnaturally for a moment, before pulling back from her. He looks her face over, button eyes twitching as his stitched mouth pulls into something like a grim frown. It is so unlike what Dorothy has come to expect from her boneless friend that it is mildly unsettling. The only time she recalls him being this serious is perhaps when they saw the Wizard and the man gave them the task to retrieve the Witch's broom.

Her Scarecrow friend is so often happy, carefree in a way that lifts her spirits. It wouldn't do now, would assuge her guilt, and his lack of levity grounds her in an odd way. She knows he had been afraid, or timid, or... Something else about killing the Wicked Witch. But now she's dead and Dorothy killed her, even if it was an accident to save him. She's unsure how long his seriousness will last. Or if it will reassure her.

He looks at her, unblinkingly (for Scarecrows with button eyes don't blink) before glancing over his shoulder towards Tinman tending the fire. He makes to stand, unusually graceful. "Let's go for a little walk, alright, Dot?" He says, almost casually, but there is a tension in his voice. She nods, allowing him to help her (however unsteadily) to her feet and wrap the blanket around her shoulders. They wander a ways away from their campsite, but still within sight of the fire Tin Man resolutely tends to.

Scarecrow loops himself down to lean against a tree and gestures for Dorothy to join him. When she's settled and the blanket is readjusted to let as little of the cooling night air touch her, he begins.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you before all this." He gestures aimlessly. "But there were a lot of moving parts, and my mind is rather slow and tangled these days. Still. you should've known before hand."

"known what?" She can't help but ask. Scarecrow is acting mysterious. Though along their journey he sometimes would seem to know more than he left on, he'd never been avoidant of sharing with her before.

He sighs. "what I am about to tell you, Dorothy Gale, you must swear-" he grasps her hands and holds her gaze. "Swear you will never, ever, tell anyone."

Dorothy swallows. She nods. "I swear. Scarecrow, I swear."

"you must mean it. No-one in Oz can know of any of it."

She looks at Scarecrow, his button eyes meeting her perfectly human ones, and it strikes her that he has never seemed more human. He is obviously not; he has no bones and no organs; he feels no pain, can have his straw strewn about and restuffed and be perfectly fine; he does not need food or water or sleep; and he is, clearly, a scarecrow. But he has always had an air about him, a light in his eyes that leaves it without question that he was alive.

Now, though, with him asking, begging, her to swear she will keep some terrible secret for him; there is desperation in the way his voice trembles, his hands grip hers, his eyes stare her down. With that desperation, he seems fully human.

Dorothy squeezes his gloves hands, nodding. "I won't speak a word of it to anyone. Your secrets will be safe."

"Good. Good." He nods to himself. Shakes his head. "I am not quite sure where to start." He admits.

"the beginning?"

Scarecrow grins at her. Taps his burlap nose with his finger. "Ah, but where is that? When I met you? When I met her? Who's to say?" There is his silliness, sneaking through. It reassured Dorothy that perhaps this isn't some terrible story after all.

"you, I suppose?"

Shrugging, he sighs. "Yes. You're right." He rubs his ill formed jaw with his hand, takes a deep breath, and says with much gravitas, "her name is Elphaba Thropp."

Which doesn't make much sense to Dorothy. "Whose name?"

"The Witch of the West."

"how-"

"Dorothy," Scarecrow says. He rarely interrupts. "You must listen to the end. I am not telling you this to make you feel bad. Actually, hopefully it will ease your mind-" she doesn't know how knowing the name of the woman she killed will ease much of anything for her, but Scarecrow is so rarely serious. "Please listen. And-- and try not to judge me too harshly." She wonders what he might reveal that would make him think she'd judge him after he'd helped her so much. She nods.

He does what could be a swallow. He takes a deep breath, straw shuddering and trembling in him. His hands fiddle with the frayed hem of his shirt. "I know her name, because I know her."

Dorothy cannot hide her gasp. Scarecrow chuckles grimly. "Oh, Dot, it's worse than that." His head tips to the side as he looks at her. "I love her."

She shakes her head, pulling the blanket tighter around her. "But why--"

"I'll explain. I promise." He shrugs. "We met at school." He begins.

He tells her of almost-tramplings and of parties, and of roommates dated. "Glinda and I were never going to be long-term, if not for Elphaba, I suppose."

"Glinda? The good?"

"that's the one."

"oh my. Is it common for Scarecrows and Horses to attend school with Humans then?"

Scarecrow tilts his head again in that odd way of his. "Well, Animal bans restricted unsegregated businesses and schools. Under the Wizard things are very strict. Harsh. I had to make sure Feldspur was well away from the Emerald City a few years ago for his protection."

He sounded very grave, and the mention of the Wizard troubled Dorothy. He was behind Animals being pushed away? It didn't make sense. He was supposed to be wonderful.

"as for Scarecrows, I suppose I... Should have mentioned I... Well, Dot. I haven't always been a scarecrow."

"what?"

He scratches his cheek, shrugs. "I was Human, up until just before I met you"

"how??"

He winces. "I think I should tell it all in order, actually."

So he does. Explains how the Wizard tricked Elphaba, how she defied him, and he named her Wicked. Scarecrow tells her that he looked for Elphaba, that he and Glinda were sick with worry and grief, that they ended up in the Emerald City. How he continued his search.

Dorothy thinks he may never have told anyone this before. Scarecrow has been a steady presence for her during their travels, and now he unleashes secrets from his heart, she realises that he may have been pretending. For her sake.

His story continues mostly smoothly, until after he ran away with Elphaba (which, Dorothy can admit, she finds horribly romantic. Like something out of a fairy tale. It also causes acidic guilt to burn at her insides) and Elphaba had a vision of Dorothy coming to Oz and her sister's death. He trips and stumbles over their confrontation in Munchkinland, over him getting caught in Elphaba's place.

"I do not regret it." He says, steadily. And then avoids telling her anything that happened after except that they injured him, and he felt Elphaba's magic cover him. Then he met Dorothy.

She thinks the story finished, and is hurt and confused by why he would tell her all this. He loved the Witch, who was not so wicked, and Dorothy killed her. Why is he so kind, so gentle. He seems perfectly happy, now that all is in the open, despite that his love is dead. It makes no sense.

"I wrote to her, after we saw the wizard. Pure luck Chistery was able to get it to her."

He leans in, then, smiling. "Dot. Remember, I told you all this to ease your mind." He gives her hand a squeeze. "The most important thing you should know, from all of this. Is that Elphaba is a regular human woman that happens to have green skin." He says it significantly. Meaningfully.

It still confuses Dorothy.

He smiles, kindly, and asks "do you melt in the rain?"

Dorothy shakes her head.

"do you melt swimming in a pond?"

Another shake.

"do you cry in pain when you bathe?"

"no? It's just--" it hits her, then, what scarecrow is saying. She gasps. "It's just water." It comes out awed.

He nods. "Indeed."

"oh! It was a-a trick!"

His voice is sadder, now. "a cruel one, perhaps. But necessary."

"why?"

He tilts his head, hums. "For all the reasons I told you the story for. The Wizard sent us to kill her, and I love her, so I could not let it happen. If people know she's alive, she would be in danger. This way, we are free."

Dorothy can see it. See why Scarecrow told her all about their past. She had to know he loved her, had to know why he loved her, to understand why they did it, to accept it.

"I see. When will you meet her again?"

He smiles, big and full and bright. "As soon as I see you safely home, I shall meet her, and we shall leave Oz as well."

The thought swells Dorothy's heart. He sounds happy, her Scarecrow, self assured and unworried. He leaves his home to live with his love. It is tragically romantic.

She hugs him, smiling for the first time since they entered that castle. "thank you for telling me, Scarecrow."

He wraps his arms around her, squeezes, and says. "Fiyero."

She hums a question, making him chuckle.

"my name. It's Fiyero."

Dorothy pulls away, and continues to smile. "It has been very nice getting to know you, Fiyero."

"same to you, Dorothy."

She leans back in to hug him more thoroughly.

Tomorrow they will again set off to the tell the wizard of the Witch's death, but now it is enough for her to know that Elphaba lives.

[blenselche]

@trumbloola

i was making one w/ my reg style and thought you'd rather something more show-like. at some point ill turn this other thing into artemis in HW clothes instead.