#bronze key

[ynfics]

Magisterium Masterlist

Aaron Steward

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Callum Hunt

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Tamara Rajavi

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Jasper deWinter

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[comic-covers]

(1973)

[cinderellaboyfanpage]

the key siblings are just so cuteee!!

[secretly-a-catamount]

Arron’s death turned him from the savior (Constantine) into the sacrificial lamb (Jericho), and turned Call from the boy stuck in his counterweight’s shadow (Jericho) into the monster (Constantine).

[romegreeceart]

Roman keyring

* Ostia Antica

* Exhibition: Ostia, Gateway to Rome. Vapriikki, Tampere 1.11.2019-10.5.2020

Tampere, November 2019

[bootyandgeekeries]

[lucawrites11]

i need you all to know when evie is older and starts making her senior debut for barça she is put in a press conference and instantly freaks out journalists. everyone knows she's evie bronze-walsh england youth international so they all collectively decide they need to speak english to her because she's so young and all practice the night before and rehearse their questions.

then evie shows up is given the microphone to introduce herself and does so in the most perfect catalan and no one asks her questions for a solid minute because they are so shocked and scrambling about what to say but evie thinks oh catalan was the wrong choice, apologises and says the same thing in PERFECT spanish. the journalists are in awe.

the only journalist that picks their jaw off the floor to get a question in is from the BBC and they ask in english about the international fight for her from the likes of bayern munich, man city, lyon, arsenal, the nwsl etc and whether she'd ever consider a move and evie pulls out the most manchester british accent ever and is like:

yeah no i'd absolutely lovta play for citeh obviously they were like me childood club and ulimaly the club i've always suppor-ed in me har- but righ- nah i'm appy in barça. me famly is ere an all but in the fu-ure i can defin-uh-ly see meself potentially playing for lyon or citeh. like me mum, i luv winnin' an it wud be fun oexplore diferen leagues and -eams ya know an i alredy speak like spanish, ca-alan, german, french an por-ugese so i'd ne-er rule any-hing ou- bu- righ- nah i'm buzzin' ta mayke me debu for barça

(let me know if you need a translation to spell a manchurian accent phonetically)

the non-english journalists have NO idea what she's saying, what questions to ask anymore or what language to speak and eventually the barça manager intervenes and says that all questions directed at can be asked in spanish, catalan or english, whatever language the journalists are most comfortable speaking. evie is just sitting there smiling innocently, completely unaware of the chaos she's causing.

she's asked a question by a french journalist and a german journalist in those languages as well and the whole press conference goes completely viral mostly for her perfect accents (though her german is notably austrian) that would make you think the language she is speaking at the time is her first language. (some people question how she's keira's child but her language skills are so good but then others point out the english accent is VERY keira)

[theenemyod]

Magisterium au where Call never stops suspecting Aaron of being the spy

[captainbrookeworm]

1000 Subscriber Special!!!!

Thanks to @ampersandthewiz for helping me color the frames, and thanks to him and @herthinkersmanana for voice acting!!!

[ashpkat]

incorrect magisterium aesthetics i suppose

[unseendeity]

I just ordered a key 🗝️ necklace in honor of Hades <3

[averytrustworthyandinnocentguy]

Tamara: what would YOU do if you were on a date with a girl?

Aaron Stewart, professional gay: uhm. Whatever. Whatever she wants. I guess. Uhm. *gay panic*

[cinderellaboyfanpage]

bronze: i want a protective quilted glove for touching hot kettles.

deacon: you want an oven mitt?

(what can we say, our bronze here is a simple man)

[secretly-a-catamount]

  Water is eternal. It cannot be created. It cannot be destroyed.

  Water is ancient. It fell from the heavens at the beginning of the world encased in rock, and, once it was freed, drowned the flames and ash. It falls to the earth still, a cycle that cannot be broken, an ouroboros eating its own tail.

  Water is all-encompassing, everywhere. It is present in ever living thing. It seeps into that which is believed to be dead but is not.

  Water births.

  Water sustains.

  Water kills.

  The man walked up the misted dock with an assurance that could only be granted by absolute power; someone who was used to taking what he wanted, the very mountains crumbling beneath his will. His skin was paler than sun-bleached bone, and his hair was the color of burnished gold and fell in tousled waves to his coat collar. He wore black clothing, blacker boots, and a dark gray jacket that accentuated his musculature well, silver buttons neatly fastened through ever hole atop his wrists and up the deceptively delicate, almost swan-like curve of his throat. His blood ran slowly through his veins, each beat of his heart punctured by a wound that would never heal.

  He stopped halfway down the dock, hellfire-green eyes scanning the partially obscured surface of the lake, and spoke.

  “I need you to do something for me.”

  The trees did not answer, gnarled roots and trunks bent, arms burdened with leaves bending down to be swallowed by the water, but the man had not expected them to. The mist did not answer either, but he had not expected it to, anymore than the trees. The wind, faint and weak, running the incorporeal tendrils of its fingers down his neck, didn’t answer, but he had not expected it to anymore than he had the trees and the mist.

  “I said: I need you to do something for me.”

  We heard you the first time, the response came from everywhere and nowhere, a thousand voices speaking as one but slightly overlapping, the angry buzz of bees, the deafening patter of raindrops against a metal roof, the howl of a hurricane, waves crashing against the shore, who are you, to think you can command the Element of Water?

  “I’m the Enemy of Death.”

  A moment of silence, then a loud crack as the end of the dock splintered off, then a thump as a mangled corpse pulled itself from the churning depths and heaved itself onto the splintered end of the dock.

  The mage gasped and staggered back, watching as the animated corpse dragged itself towards him with the nasty scraps of bone against wood, and the wet slaps of wood against rotted flesh. The water, splintered boards, rusted nails, vegetation, and silt, came with it, reconstructed its body as it went.

  By the time the Devoured was erected and whole, the Enemy of Death had composed himself again to the point of neutrality.

  The Devoured smiled like a predator, the vines wrapped around her bones and ruptured flesh acting as muscles and ligaments, her remaining bits of skin splitting at the movement, peeling away from her ruined body. Blood and oil leaked from her empty eye sockets, and her black hair twisted around her form like a shroud. She was vaguely humanoid, vaguely feminine, and vaguely young. She wore the tattered remains of a Golden Year uniform and a Magisterium wristband.

  “Hello, Tamara.”

  Hello, Aaron.

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

would love to know what Aaron feels when his soul searches for Calls

[kekwcomics]

UFO FLYING SAUCERS (Western / Gold Key, 1972)

"ARE THEY ALIVE?"