#putrid-pixie

[minireklamo]

thank you fro blessing us with so much mh stuff. i love your mh art

wahh its my pleasure! thank you so much<3

[captainkurosolaire]

X1 ~ Assassinate Love? Mission Failure!

Reference ~ Chapter One ~ ♪ "Violet" ♪ Heavy downpour of rain cascaded down below weeping skies, trembling with aches roaring amongst Othard city-scape. This story is gray, from time; before…                                   When they first met.                                                                 Softly a footstep rippled against a puddle left in aftermath. Until arriving indoors to an inner-sanctum, where native magpies chirped happily. Eastern-garbed Seeker blindfolded, but not senseless as one of the swarming envoy magpie flew above dropped a contract that would forever change the course of history, his hands-skillfully swiped. This particular individual served within an elite-group of assassins known as Black Miracles, underground where secrets are bred in a shadow organization. Specially-lethally designed to exterminate or hunt; mankind. Often they solved-plights that Doma citizens sought fortune with mere whispers, a jar was created in the space-and-void thought barren of nothing; and sometimes remedy and salvation was granted as alternative fortune.  Duzan-tai-gachi, a foretelling katana, rumors said it could cut-through-anything; was stolen by treacherous pirates stowing near a coast in Ruby Seas, a crucial weapon for arms, The Far East would need to further utilize in their efforts against the Imperial-noose in this period. Fingers-done tracing the braille, understood. Vanishing like fellow-air, his excelling reflexes, heard and moved gracefully not even droplets of rain stood a chance to drench him or deter his pace. Overlooking a cliff where the treacherous sea-vessel took station under canopies of tree-shade; leafs blown taken from creaking branches.

A small-pixie companion peeked her-eyes out of his sleeve and gave a yawn! Awakening, Flicker, who acted as his ‘Sight’ for bound-style. His-motionless tone and verbiage simplistically gave volume, “How many signatures do you detect below?” Commanding an estimate. She peered-forth and squinted, her eyes-zooming inward, aether dancing-around them, creating a distinct aura. As she began counting them… Something odd-occurred, never happening prior that frightened, even the magical-being. The fluttering pixie had eyes-dart back at her of powerful brilliant-violets orbs. “T-t-there’s someone unique in there! They perceived my snooping! I counted a hundred-thirty-nine; before seen Master!” It could be worrying that his own outline was seen back. Most would derail from this mission, dangerous to advance.  Emotionless discarded and donning a mask. “Very well. I’ll just have to slaughter them before they anticipate further thoughts.” There wasn’t any maliciousness in conveying, killing was nothing more than breathing. He pricked a thumb and swiped it across a scroll quickly, and a Hingashi Kite appeared. Gale-winds of the storm, tempest were felt in not only the perception of his incredible-Miqo'te genes, but analyzing when to act with timing and trajectory.  Laughing drunk freebooters on the deck were festively continuing their putrid vices. Descending and atop them with a shadow-drop, they saw a kite above. Before their eyes-caught up, the lights dimmed out, he let himself go from the kite’s handles, and was on their table, kunai-knives, needles and strong-tempered wire linked to those projectiles, swept underneath his sleeves from various directions, piercing their throats, jugulars, every vital and alongside, severing them. A curvaceous courtesan who was getting rowdy sea-dog drinks walked upon poor time, she saw crimson ichor being washed away, the rain was frighteningly his accomplice, the puddle-of-red reflected his true murder-design. She couldn’t bellow aloud, a death-palm wrapped around her mouth, another callous-leather-gloved hand squeezing around her throat, tight-too-much-so. Expression's fear wrinkled her facially… Then… absence, null, but silent-peace, strangled and manhandled. He was just a loyal-bound blade of servitude, no attachments anchored him. Who molded him into such a proficient-weapon, broke, rebuilt, and then broke him again until he was forged; meant to horrifically slash, he-zoned away from his identity. Becoming Doma’s hidden blade, The Black Miracle; resident night-fright, his-assassin moniker; Shadow Father. Before disappearing from his deed, fire erupted from below the floorboards, he barely dodged unscathed, his tail-singed and soles alongside garb, strand hairs engulfed to embers. Instinct kept him solid. Quick-but-not fast enough to slaughter-everyone as intended. That presence aboard who peered back, unthinkably walked up above, her aroma drove him wildly in familiarity and attempted to evoke; tranquility, and even open to possibilities of allure. Beyond all that emotionless, senses were being drawn-back for the memory, he wore so many masks and bore many scars, to forget, manipulatively disciplined. You are nothing but steel…           You will execute for peace.    You are formless, stainless. You’re too sharp and have no delicate edges.            You slaughter in one-blow decisively. You hold no-weights, your identity-matters not. For you are The-Blade! Remembering this poisonous teaching, he was whipped, brutalized, his body-soul-mind-spirit forged, conducted in a method, to become strictly something conditioned, for War. A thing; the technology, advancements of all of Garlemald would be fearful to know; as an enemy not even precious machinery could stay guarded.

Flicker pried out of his sleeve gaining some distance but telepathically linking to him, “Careful, Master! She’s got spirits! They’re… they’re everywhere… even the ones-you-slew.” Silencing and restoring composure from his flash-back once again being his own bane of emotion, blinding himself. Her bare-feet walked on the dock, connected with nature’s blessing, life to death, in the fullest. A totem-hanging on her waist. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault, I should’ve figured they’d bring someone to retrieve that blade! I’v-” Before she could explain; that reasoning beyond their thievery was to remove the Voidal curse placed on that blade! If anyone unsheathed it, they would’ve gone on a mad killing-spree and struck all allies. She was round-kicked in the gut-sent reeling back and upchucking saliva, her breathing labored and consciousness staggered. The assassin lunged-forth with a piercing-charge but was blocked by an earth-spirit who defended her, conditionally and lovingly. The fire-element sent another blast towards him that caused his tail-senses to react with a bolted dodge. The-pirated angry spirits that were slain became malevolent and wicked, to the point they were manifesting pure-hatred toward their executor. He took punches and blows, from-the-unseen in-between worlds as-if air-was fighting back. Visibly-soundless blows cracked ribs heard, his teeth-gritted, palms grabbing the hilt of his true-sheathed Hingashi-forged, blade, aether exuding out of him before pulling out with a spinning slash, true-compact steel like he wielded, neutralizes spirits-demons, once again he slew and their heads dissipated, as so-did their forms, but they would manifest again, in time. This occurrence wasn’t normal. Most often people vanquished will dissolve to the life-stream typically, but not always. Some spirits-souls, become lost or fragments! And as-such, become damned, malevolent-incarnates, they curse, and will-sink into where they often were slain with irritation if not given proper guidance or closure. By a-proper mender. That woman was responsible, that strange-totem on her waist, strange-aura emitted from it. Flicker shouted out at him.You’ll have to kill her or destroy that thing on her buckle! Regaining her stature a little wobble in her legs and shaking, she spat out blood, giving a look at her palm of her condition; feeling it; embracing, “I don’t like to hurt others, but I’ve no choice! You’re too dangerous!” Taking a fighting-pose, her lips pursed apart.                                      “Soul-Integration: Earth"

He took a sword-stance, which his blade-charged lightning swirled around him, in blinding-speed he would-take once again another plunge forth, it didn’t matter if any of her element-spirits were blocking him. He’d blitz and take that damned-head! The accomplice of the assassin, the rainstorm taking place, struck lightning and fed into his aetherial charge! Blowing-through, uprooting and tearing the-deck of the ship, lightning-set-ablaze and struck the sail, burning it; rain-weather sought to quell. His powerful-strike was rooted and grabbed-shockingly, by her hand that was earthly-attuned and imbued, startling to him, the soles-of-her feet had become-gravel clad-boots to absorb electricity and nullify it, entirely and reinforce her physical-strengths ten-fold. She delivered a counter-punch uppercut that shattered his mask and broke into his face, following with her long and powerful legs, thighs credibly known of the Seeker and kicked him in the ribs if they were-cracked from earlier onslaught, it broke just now!

His air-gone and wheezing lungs took placement, sanguine-drenched down from his nose-broke, he realigned with a snap.   She fused herself with the Earth spirit? What-was this woman?! “MASTER, I’VE HEARD OF THIS!”                                     “SHE’S A SHAMAN!!!”

Coughing and hacking up internal-injury, the Black Miracle, blindfolded visage revealed mask-shattered, but some of his tribal-marks showing his distinguished face.                                                                                                                         They knew another. Gasp of realization came from her, tackled off her feet the Integration breaking, detecting her stance-wavered showing signs of weakness to exploit, falling back on the wood below crashing with him over-top her, he aligned his blade up to the skies and was going to pierce it-downward into her heart, in that instantaneous moment fire-erupted, his-blindfold, was extinguished purposely, her delicate hands grabbed his cheek; comfortably, an ilm-away from puncture, her composure didn’t waver, his unyielding and dazzling golden eyes-open and the world unraveled to truth. Time felt removed. With all that was ingrained, emotionless, nothingness. How could he forget the one-person who combated him many, years ago, strangers that passed by in their moments-in-life, and for some reason, she conveyed something out of him and extracted it to make him; change his destiny and create a dynasty to live for a greater-good. He was Shadow, mysterious and deadly, but unbiased-slaughtered he sacrificed his identity without even being born from the Nationality to make amends for the atrocities of a Nunh formerly, he became emotionless not trusting his raging ire of old; transforming to cold steel; removing former color until it was midnight-black. She was Light, warm, non-discriminating, embraced notions, exhibiting pure heat. Just her presence-alone, felt like you were able to confide-in, she sacrificially served as a heroine ahead-of-time and threw herself at the task of any troubled-spirit, soul, and brought eternal-heaven before them. Exiled and Freed from their Tribe Sept-branches they entangled on fate-paths long-ago and had but a simple conversation, but there was something that felt-so intimate between them and joy-easiness, that type of feeling; you cannot conceive, can’t put currency on it and try determining the value, or place-why, it just exists! Love meant to be. When gaze met; constellations opened, peering futures, hearts awoke, hers longingly and that blade himself, alongside wielded, surrendered clanging against the planks.                 “I know you.” "Yeah, and I know you.”                                                             Her smile sheathed his steel-composure. For the first-time again… his heart-beat thrummed.      Reminded his identity-of-former, beyond obligated masks wore.

How problematic after a succession-rate of 100%                                                         Mission,                                         Contract,                                                             Failed...

[dinosaurqueen27]

Nightshade Berries

Seamus Finnigan x fem!reader

Word count: 837

Warnings: None

I TOOK THIS DOWN (out of embarrassment) BECAUSE IT WAS FOUND BY SOMEONE I KNOW BUT IM REALLY PROUD OF IT SO IM PUTTING IT BACK UP!

notes: just a short one shot I had this written ages ago but it was terrible so I fixed it! (Hopefully) Also I imagine the character as being chubby or plus sized but that’s just me it’s not explicitly stated so read it however you like 👍

Gif not mine credits to owner

It was in her first year of Hogwarts that she met Seamus Finnigan. It was only due to unforeseen  circumstances that they even became friends.

Potions class had dragged on for a full 30 minuets before anyone even got to look at a cauldron. Everyone was itching to start, all excited to mix the unusual ingredients together to create something magical.

The task was to make a successful forgetfulness potion by the end of the lesson. (Y/N) stood by a long brown bench that spread the width of the room, it was lined with cauldrons, phials, jars and Littered with stains from strange liquids, spilled ink pots and scorch marks from spitting cauldrons.

All students were separated into groups of two, chosen by professor Snape, leaving most students upset with not being able to work with their new friends. (Y/N) had been partnered with a small boy with rather large pixie ears and a thick Irish accent.

"Okay add in two drops of Lethe River water and stir it clockwise." She instructed him. The boy followed the directions and set the spoon on the side. "What do we do now?" He asked. She looked through the book on the desk, it's leather binding falling apart and brown pages withering away. It had been purchased from the second hand shelf in Flourish and Blotts. Though it was dusty and covered in stains (Y/N) loved it all the same her first real spell book.

"Add in 4 crushed mistletoe berries and then we should be done." Seamus nodded and left to the Ingredients cupboard to retrieve the jar of white berries.

"Hey (Y/N) We’re having a nightmare here could you help us out." She looked over to Dean, his spoon had fallen into the cauldron and the sleeves of his robes were soaked in the potion. His partner Neville seemed to be having his own issues. He had dropped his wand and bent down to retrieve it but in standing back up bumped his head on the bottom of the desk knocking a bundle of valerian sprigs onto the floor scattering them all over the place. Dean had a look of distress across his face and (Y/N) couldn't help but chuckle at the poor boy. She walked over to help him out and retrieve his spoon from the red bubbling liquid.

(Y/N) had completely forgotten about Seamus in those three minutes concerned more with gathering all the sprigs together and get the boys a new spoon. That was until she was being tugged across the desk by the back of her robes. "Is it supposed to do that!" Seamus asked in a panicked state. The once ruby red liquid had turned a vile sickly green and was bubbling ferociously.

"No! What did you do?" She asked him. "I put in 4 nightshade berries just like you told me too." He lifted the jar filled with little black berries. There appearance non threatening compared to the damage they could do.

"Mistletoe berries I said Mistletoe Berries Seamus." She covered her face with her hands. "Look it's moving..."  He announced. They both turned to look over the edge of the cauldron and watched the constant harsh bubbling rattled the table and everything on its surface until it suddenly stopped and remained still. They both peered into the cauldron and watched as a large bubble formed on the surface of the liquid.

BOOM!

Black soot and smoke was sent up towards their faces and the smell of putrid sick and singed hair hung in the air. "AAAAHHH!"

"Your eyebrows!" She exclaimed they were burnt clean off of his face and replaced with patches of black soot. "Your hair!" He shouted as he pointed at her. 'Oh no oh god please no don't be true' She walked towards the window and stared at her reflection the left side of her hair had been singed short and was covered in black ash along with her face and robes.

"(Y/L/N), Finnigan." Snape walked to wards the two crispy looking children. "Get out of my classroom that's 25 points each from your houses, go and clean yourselves up." The rest of the class sat giggling quietly at the misfortune of the two as they left the class, finding it rather hilarious. That is until Snape picked up the closest book and slammed it onto the desk instantly silencing them.

While walking along the corridor on the way to the hospital wing (Y/N) decided to end the silence between them. "This was your fault you know, if you had just listened to me we wouldn't be in this situation.” "Yeah well at least we're okay, it could have been worse." She stared at him with a blank expression until her lip quirked slightly up . "Yeah actually your right, I could have ended up with no eyebrows." she teased and walked away. "Well that's not very nice!" He called after her rushing to catch up.

“Let’s hope Madam Pomfry has something for hair regrowth.”

[viaetor]

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 . . . ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ( 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 — 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 1 / ? ) ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ to be continued ?

... _________________________________________

 #𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄: a drabble exploring the twins fighting in a mysterious domain. paimon and dainsleif were taken by abyss heralds. aether and lumine finally battle each other for the first time... but it won't be the last. this drabble explores a bit about their past as 𝑐𝑎𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, as well as promises left unsaid or not kept by the two of them. this post was cut due to its length, but it's completely sfw despite some mild violence suggestions. based on the wonderful plots and threads with @destinywoven's lumine. thank you for letting me write this, thyme! ♡ / inspiration here & here (as well as art credit) .

__________________________________________ ...

ㅤㅤhis dear sister was a liar.

ㅤㅤ“you’ll never leave me, right?”

ㅤㅤ“i’m here.”

ㅤㅤwhen his wings were torn apart, shattered from their roots as he fell into the damned world of teyvat, she was nowhere to be found. when he was feeling lost and cold, her hand had not met his to hold. when his cheeks were burnt by his spilt comrades’ blood, she was not there to cover his eyes as their bodies hit the ground. ever since then, he perfectly understood what abandonment meant. yet he still prayed to find her, still prayed for her, begged the stars to let them reunite in exchange for anything his spirit could offer—but his pleas met only a void. such deafening silence screamed a harsh truth he played deaf too long to keep on avoiding; they had forsaken him. she had forsaken him for hundreds and more hundreds of years.

ㅤㅤ“i’m here.”

ㅤㅤand to that, his sword seemed to lash out: do you remember, dear sister, when you lulled me to sleep after a nightmare? do you remember when you left me behind on this planet to rot without you? do you remember when you braided my hair for the first time with your wounded hands because you said it felt nice and soft to the touch? do you remember when you left me to fight by myself as millions around me died? do you remember our first time picking up flowers that looked just like you? do you remember me, the brother you’ve betrayed?

ㅤㅤ“i’m here.”

ㅤㅤliar. liar. liar!

ㅤㅤah, no matter. they’d have enough time to make up for such treasons. he could forgive her—for old times’ sake.

ㅤㅤshe had grown sluggish, it seemed. her sword grip was too lax; there was no way she could cause an effective blow against him. or maybe he was misremembering what a fierce warrior she was? more than that, all those years apart had made her capable of parrying his attacks—he knew how much she hated blocking. still, what kind of exaggeratedly fancy technique was that? far too knightly for his taste and easy to block. and to think she was the gods’ chosen one… tsk. didn’t she notice their blessings were holding her down? parry, strike, parry, strike, strike. she took a step back, then two, three, five. come on, she had to be better than this. how pitiful.

ㅤㅤoh… could it be that she was holding back against him? 

ㅤㅤwas she mocking him?

ㅤㅤheavy is the hand that holds a celestial sword—aiming for her arm, he instead opened a lengthy cut on her cheek. so she was at least paying attention. the horror in those sandy doe eyes showed him that much. that, and how she had thrown herself backwards, hitting the floor with a gasp. good. her golden eyes did not match his, though. he wondered why.

ㅤㅤ“stop staring at me like that, lumine. you started this.” there was a controlled rage in his voice. a spite that made his voice taste bitter, putrid, disdainful with a scoff. but he wasn’t lying. aether never lied, unlike his dear sister. “you refuse to let me continue with my plans. you ally yourself with my enemies. you take the gods’ side. and now you’re fighting me because of, what exactly? a puny pixie?”

ㅤㅤshaking his head in disapproval, the prince walked to where a pinkish tiara lay amidst the debris, picking it up with his index finger as if the object was unworthy of his regal attention. lumine had all his attention on him, it seemed—analysing how his posture had changed, how he held his blade in a different fashion, how his visage beamed no longer, instead resting with this eerie, stoic expression. 

ㅤㅤso when he suddenly smiled, it did not match the lingering flame of his eyes. “it appears you’ve found a new home; congratulations.” the click of his heels echoed through the ruined domain before he squatted down to place the tiara on her blonde head, with the same delicacy of fingers as when he had first tugged those beautiful flowers behind her ear. unfortunately, it was a tad too small. “i was hoping you’d understand me… we always saw eye to eye, after all. but i was naive…”

ㅤㅤanother grin, wider than his last. the abyssal creature in front of her resembled not her brother in the slightest. around them, specks of stardust and abyss started to hoof, engulfing her figure.

ㅤㅤ“i had forgotten we are siblings no more.”

ㅤㅤdarkness. cold. suffocating. he was no longer there.

ㅤㅤ“goodbye, lumine.”

[motleymemes]

VtMB sentence starters - Malkavian Whispers

–– feel free to change pronouns and the like !* also note that this one’s been copied / pasted because I can’t find the files

“Bone round in melody and word layed in rain.” “Cemetery runoff congealing at the door.” “Maggots love you. Trust me.” “Mast lay shrouded and the moon is melting.” “Try the corpse in the oven with peppers and fur.” “Souls draped in rotten tatters and Father dances in the dark.” “Make the tallow from the fat of a hangman.” “Danger.” “Evil crouches.” “Death.” “DIE!” (Evil laugh) “I smell a rancid grave.” “You're in for it now.” “Rustling robes of the Reaper.” (Evil laugh) “They're coming.” “All are blind whose eyes are closed.” “Look at it, bent like a calf for the butcher.” “The drove is a terrible mistress.” “Whispers and words sprout from the same seed.” “A dark light from your death.” “Hemlock for the deceivers.” “It casts a crooked shadow.” “It has two mouths to lick from.” “Deep of the Atlantic, the Ark, dreaming, sleeping.” “Elkabo, elkabo, pixy queen where all is green.” “Can't see, can't see! Where have my eyes gone to?” “Heloise said you. Cranberry sauce. Hotel foxtrot.” “Stop doing that. Mother shan't be too pleased. None too pleased.” “It's a tangle of asps.” “Those lips bleed a putrid poison.” “Sealed with the kiss of swine.” “Rat tails, cat tails, coat tails, all tales.” “A trick with two tongues.” “It's not fair! I wanted too.” “Pennies for your eyes in its pockets.” “Why is it troubled?” “Ask about the free arsenic.” “Blood brings the vicious beast.” “I see daggers hang on his breath.” “The very thought falls to the flame.”

[cryptid-killjoy]

[Some of the labels Thomas would find if he were to snoop around in Valerie’s apothecary cabinets]

Graveyard Dirt

Snake's Tongue

Troll Eyeballs

Tenebrific Gloami

Grave Robber's Guts

Acrimonious Draft of Unwholesome Bacterium

Wing of Bat

Unrelentless Madness

Chalybeate Water

Eye of Newt

Vampire blood

Black widow venom

Virgin's Release

Crepuscular Deception

Integuments of Detrimental Suggestion

Raven's blood

Ground Unicorn Horn

Blind Goat Gizzards

Blow Fish Spines

Preserved Hobgoblin Brain

Toadstool

Shadowy Devitalized Energy

Toe of Frog

Snake's Tongue

Troll Eyeballs

Parasitic Cymothoa Exigua

Putrid Pumpkin

Severed Fledgling Fingers

Ashes of Hell's Fire

Black Nightshade

Ablepsia

Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva

Trichechus Inunguis Whiskers

Blood of the Undead

Nightmare Larvae

Spider's Web

Spreading Dogbane

Amaryllis Belladonna

Eastern Whorled Milkweed

Phoenix Tears

Sphinx Feathers

Blood of the Undead

Tongue of Dog

Dragon teeth

Butterfly wing

Pixie Dust

Spider's legs

Wolf's Bane

Centipede Hair

Mermaid's Hair

Black Cat Whiskers

Swamp Fog

Tail of Rat

Werewolf hair

Garden Gnome Beard

Royal Infant Blood

Spotted Water Hemlock

Bat Blood

Worms of Doubt

Tenebrific Gloaming Worms

Black Cat Bone

Demon's Tears

[syrupplant76]

10 Easy Facts About 47 Best Tarot Card Decks Listed and Ranked in 2022 - A Little Shown

The Tarot: On A.EWaite's birthday, here's everything you need to PDFs

Battersby & Aguilar is at it again! With two brand-new tarot projects on their hands, both certainly shouting saucy, I make certain fans AND haters will increase once again. Me, I am simply revealing you what it is all about (uh-huh. I have no viewpoint about this whatsoever * cough *) The deck designers aren't scared to choose styles and angles that will get him (& her) began online forums or result in loads of hate mail.

How to Learn to Read Tarot Cards - The New York Times

And otherwise a minimum of not with a big wink or what they view as a political statement for example. Well, if you're more of a perfectionist this is your opportunity to turn away. If you like your tarot as long as it tarot: voila! Meet Dead Waite and The Trippin' Waite.

Some Known Factual Statements About Tarot Deck Universal Waite - Shopee Singapore

Battersby & co uses Pixie's drawings for the pattern, but adds a macabre atmosphere with occasionally some decaying flesh to the one and LSD-induced visions and groovy clothing to the other. The outcome iswell definitely vibrant. I believe the Dead Waite will be an obtained taste, you do not require to be a perfectionist to steer far from tongue-in-cheek or themed decks, I know that.

And that is something I always appreciate. Often the most gorgeous decks fall flat once you put them to the test. No matter what you consider James and Christine's creative endeavours, they do understand their tarot patterns. At least when it comes to the WCS (Where's my insane Thoth?).

Tarot of the Dead - Llewellyn cards, Hobbies & Toys, Toys & Games on Carousell

Facts About Rider Waite Tarot - Spellbox Revealed

Even when the King of Sword's bowels are hanging out or The Fool is obviously high as a kite and flying off that rock. Or so Read More Here believes When it comes down to it, I assume the 60's ambiance of The Trippin' Waite deck might actually be something a big group of readers will react to favorably.

Simply since it oozes joy rather of putrid human remains! Me? I can't WAITE to see the rest(I know, it is an old joke, but it works so well here. Yes, it does!)And, James, if you desire to understand where to send those evaluation copies to, my brand-new address is on the contact page To follow the development on both Tarot jobs the Trippin deck being the most recent it is best to befriend the duo on their King's Journey FB page -called after among their very first tarot decks.

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 1

https://lune-hime.tumblr.com/masterlist

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tulipa Estella Rijnveld ~ A tulip whose soft white petals are stained with a crimson pigment.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

The putrid sounds of screaming and bones cracking were gradually soaked up by the trees and replaced by the stillness of the evening. The newfound silence of the countryside left an eerie calm over the two scouts but only amplified the ringing in Levi’s ears. The thumping of the horse’s muddy hooves against the hardened spring ground made his head throb as they rode further and further away from the massacre. Any sound was better than nothing, though, otherwise the silence would make him hear their foul cries.

Your pained shrieks.

In his arms you laid limp, the only sign of life was your slight breaths that just barely caressed the bottom of his chin. Whenever it became uneven the ringing in his ears sharpened. He would squeeze your side instinctively, something he would usually do to wake you up when you slept in too late. Only this time instead of your hand in his it was your blood staining his palm. He applied constant pressure to your bleeding side with one hand while the other, white-knuckled and bruised, held the reins. His grip was the only thing that kept him from floating off that damned horse. He was grateful he had lost his horse in the chaos instead of you; you loved the animal too much for Levi’s liking and he knew how devastated you would be when you woke up and it wasn’t there.

Once we get there you better fucking wake up, Y/N.

Levi had somehow managed to stop your bleeding with the piece of his cloak tightly wrapped around your waist combined with the pressure of his hand. This gave him minor peace of mind as you galloped through forest after forest. Emerging from the thicket, the last obstacle blocking your path to safety materialized on the horizon. The towering structure of Wall Rose was baked pale in the waning rays of light, it's untouched bricks proudly protecting those who resided inside. Levi wasted no time in grabbing the guards’ attention the moment he reached the barred gate.

“LET ME IN.” He screamed, his voice scattering the crows that rested on the railing of the wooden lookout post. Though he was extremely winded, his command was firm. There were some muffled curses and the sound of glass shattering before one guard peaked his heads over the edge, making eye contact with Levi’s impatient form below. To say he was startled was an understatement.

“C-captain Levi?” He called out in disbelief. The guard looked from the captain to the limp body in his arms, eyes widening in shock when he saw the remnants of your profuse bleeding.

“Captain Levi is here?” Another voice slurred from behind the first guard. A second soldier appeared, rushing over to lean heavily on the railing and gawk in awe.

“Hey, Captain! What are you doing all the way here at Krolva? What an honor, do you have a minute? My niece is a big fan and if I could get your autograph I’m sure she would really appreci-” He rambled excitedly before being cut off by a brisk slap from his comrade. He stumbled from the railing with a groan, clutching the back of his head in pain.

“Are yer eyes still workin’? Can’t you see he’s a little busy for that.  He’s riding with a wounded soldier, idiot.” His more sober counter part scolded. They soon got into a drunken argument about how to address superior officers, especially ones with pressing issues. The more their pointless conversation droned on the more Levi’s anxiety level rose. If he was delayed any longer he felt like he was going to shatter like the soldiers’ discarded beer bottle.

“I don’t have time for your shit!” He exclaimed. Your horse had begun to sense Levi’s urgency and started pawing at the ground and pacing restlessly in front of the gate.

The guards immediately halted their chatter and turned their full attention to him once again, looking like scolded children. There was a brief silence, broken by a single hiccup.

“Just. Let. Me. In. The. Damned. Gate.” Levi seethed, voice dangerously low. The guards exchanged nervous glances before scrambling to make the call that would raise the iron bars. The second the gate creaked upward, your horse was ready and anxiously bouncing on its hooves. When the opening was just large enough to fit through, your horse bolted through.

When the soldiers stationed at the guard tower would later tell the story to their comrades, and eventually Commander Pixis, they would swear that they saw the devil himself within Levi’s eyes.

Time had no meaning anymore as he weaved between stalled carts and yelping pedestrians. His eyes were on the prominent steeple that jutted out like a sunflower among dandelions from the jagged edges of the residential buildings. After rounding corner after corner and navigating the winding side streets he applied pressure to the reins at the front of the aged church. The grim sight that befell him festered at his already bleeding heart.

Sickness hung so thickly in the air that Levi felt it seeping into the pores of his skin. Hoards of ill residents congregated outside of the newly deemed hospital. Ymir’s stoney outstretched arms beckoned them to be herded like sheep into the eglise by their shepherds donned in nurses uniforms. So slowly were they being admitted that Levi could ascertain that the establishment, as grand as it looked on the outside, would not be able to harbor all of them. The mob groaned, wretched, sputtered and seemed to move as one undulating blob of disease.

Levi’s face contorted as the stench of bile singed the inside of his nose. Every one of his brain cells was scolding him for even contemplating the idea of having you treated at a place with such levels of contamination, but by the fucking walls he had no other foreseeable option. He kicked your horse briskly in the gut, abruptly trotting away to confront one of the nurses.

“You have to let me in. She’s bleeding out and needs stitches now.” Levi ordered with the remaining level-headedness he had hanging by his pinkie. His sanity was flowing out of him at the same rate blood was leaving your body. But he would not let his emotion influence his body and mind. The nurse’s eyes widened to the size of eggs, obviously overwhelmed by the sheer ghastliness of the situation.

“Captain Levi?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, first at the sight of the infamous soldier and then to the limp body clutched in his arms. Levi was aware of his so-called “popularity” but he swore he was going to explode if one more person acknowledged his name before the critical state of the soldier in his embrace. The nurse’s eyes darted to Levi’s bloodstained palm and she let out a small gasp barely audible through the cloth. Her eyebrows furrowed and Levi could infer she was frowning deeply.

“Sir, I’m sorry but we are at full capacity.” Her smooth voice was muffled by her mask. “A recent outbreak in the eastern district has us overwhelmed.”

Her excuse passed through one of Levi’s ears and right out the other. Every minute he sat here idly was another precious minute of life drained from you.

“You absolutely don’t have anyone that could treat her? Or- just give me some goddamn stitches and I’ll do it myself!” Levi demanded, tone flaring at the latter half of his proposal. The nurse gulped and shook her head somberly.

“The capital has been limiting the export of medical supplies to selected districts, including Krolva. We are maxed out now due to the illness...I’m afraid we can’t offer you anything.”

Levi dug his hand into the reins and tugged at them in frustration, making your horse skitter sideways. The scouts prided him in being one of the most rational members of its legions, which was a gift he was honing into as his head spun so quickly with what little options he had left. Uncharacteristically irrational thoughts tempted him, however when a splash of floral color caught his eye just behind the nurse’s shoulder it clicked.

He was in Krolva.

Krolva was your hometown.

You had family here.

Family with a distinct profession.

He stared at the ornamental tulips in the church yard for a moment before whipping his head towards the nurse.

“Where is the tulip farm.” Levi’s simple inquiry held the esteem of a military order of the utmost importance. Anticipation bubbled up within him as the nurse sputtered at his seemingly random change of subject.

“Um-The Vogel Estate is located slightly out of the district. If you go through the gates of Wall Rose its about a half an hour off the main road. There are signs for it you can’t miss.” The nurse instructed, pointing in the direction of the gates. Levi nodded once and was about to turn your horse around when the nurse let out a sound of protest.

“Wait!” She said hurriedly. She looked around nervously before reaching into her dress pocket, pulling out an ivory handkerchief and a small vile. Her gloved hands reached out to you looking at Levi for permission to remove his crimson caked hand.

“This saline won’t do much, but it will minimize infection.” She instructed, carefully lifting Levi’s hand. Sticky blood attempted to reconnect his limb to your side, however the nurse blotted the most recent stream away with a steady hand. Her breath hitched at the severity of your wound as she began pouring the contents of the vile onto your torn skin. She then folded the handkerchief and placed it firmly onto your side, grasping Levi’s hand and placing it over the fabric.

“This should keep more dirt from getting into her wound and irritating it. Keep applying steady pressure; thankfully it looks like you have been doing that already.”

Levi looked from his hand to her eyes, grateful for the sympathy that they held despite his frustration.

“Thank you.” He said curtly. Then, tugged on your horse’s reins and with one swift kick was off towards Wall Rose. To his relief, the gates were wide open as merchants filed through them. He deftly rushed past their inventory checks, unsympathetic to the whines in protest when your horse’s side rammed into a cart resulting in the spilling of an expensive keg of whiskey.

The signs to the estate took him through a picturesque village that made him question if the both of you were even residing in the living world anymore. When the crisp clacking of hooves against the brick road manifested into drum beats on the hard earth Levi had a small sliver of hope he was finally nearing his destination.

He had no idea how long the two of you had been riding for as crop fields turned into whistling wheat fields; the euphoric rolling hills were laughable in comparison to the bloodbath you had fled from. Levi only had a vague idea of where he was headed; his mental map painted by fond childhood memories and other stories of your youth. Based on your descriptions the place you talked so much about couldn’t be hard to miss.

You had taken Levi to Krolva once, a little less than a year ago he reckoned, on a rare scouting legion day off. However, you were unable to stay at your family home due to a myriad of circumstances. He wouldn’t have admitted it but a sweet, syrupy nervousness would churn in his stomach whenever you would talk about introducing him to your family and the other intimate aspects of your childhood. He had, indeed, already met the closest members of your family. One a scout that Levi was quite familiar with and the other the owner of this estate. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had met her and could say with the utmost certainty that it perplexed him beyond hell how you two were related. The fact that this was the first time you two were going to be there together, well the irony was ludicrous.

As humble houses began to litter the landscape he regained some confidence in his surroundings. Levi began analyzing each structure as your horse sped past, hooves hitting the stone path with the intensity of gunshots. His frantic mind began convincing himself that he was in fact in the wrong location when he saw the subject of all your musings.

Tulips.

A vast ocean of tulips that extended so far they seemed like they could caress the horizon. Levi had never seen such a sight in his life. He was never able to fully comprehend the pristine scenery you always described but seeing it laid out in front of him had enlightened his mind. Across from the floral sea sat a grand house, its elaborate frame sticking out against the rural landscape. Levi urged your horse on with a firm kick, a pained whinny erupting from its belly.

Upon reaching the structure Levi yanked on reigns, causing your horse to slide to a stop along the dirt path of the front yard. The homestead was silent except for your horse’s labored panting. Not even the sparrows that nested along the siding of the ornate porch chirped or rustled about. Levi took advantage of the quietness to make his presence known.

“H-HELP!” He shouted, his voice faltering a bit from his sore throat. He was far too used to being on the receiving end of this plea and it made him sink even more into desperation that this time the roles were reversed. The stillness lingered but a moment before the grand door swung open with a force that sent it bombarding against the siding of the house.

“Y/N!” A figure cried from the porch, their bellow echoing over the high entryway. The woman hurried down the steps with a spryness that betrayed her age. As she neared, Levi was faced with the familiar features of your grandmother.

“What in all hell happened, Levi?” She exclaimed with viscous horror. Her face contorted into various morphs of worry and disdain with each new angle she viewed of your mangled body.

“Y/N...she-” Levi wheezed, but his throat was too dry to formulate a proper sentence. His voice was cracked and his shoulder was numbing to the point where he was beginning to lose feeling. Your grandmother exhaled and collected herself, a wave of determination fastening like a uniform onto her being.

“Shit. No time for my questions, we need to get her inside now.” She stated firmly, releasing the reins from Levi’s locked grip. He nodded and allowed his hands to rise to your shoulders to pass you off to the woman. To his delight instead of fresh blood a layer of dark liquid caked his palm. This meant you hadn’t bled a significant amount since the hospital. He let out a shaky breath as the woman gathered you into her arms. You fell limply into her embrace, her knees buckling a bit at your weight but she quickly regained her posture. You looked like a corpse, pale and utterly dead looking, which made Levi want to throw up.

He never threw up.

As the woman began carrying you inside, Levi lifted his leg to dismount your horse but winced in pain. He hadn’t noticed his own injuries due to your condition, but now that the adrenaline had started to wear down they were catching up to him. When he landed the dismount he was met with a sharp pain along his shoulder blade. The pain was just an annoyance though in the grand scheme of the situation. The one thing that mattered the most in his life had almost been torn to pieces. So his shoulder could wait.

He began to hobble towards the front door, leading your horse along with him. He let go of the reins just shy of the porch steps.

“Wait here.” He coughed. There was of course no way your horse would understand him, let alone obey him. Knowing that animal it most definitely wouldn’t stay in the same place Levi left it.

Making his way into the house he paused in the entryway, taking in his surroundings. The foyer ahead of him was spacious; a large staircase laid directly in front of him and tall archways to both his sides led further into the lodgings. The quarters screamed quaint luxury; from the high ceilings, the perfectly intact pearl colored walls, to the elaborately carved hand railings of the stairs. He knew your family wasn’t exactly poor, but he didn’t know they were this economically endowed.

“Up here, quickly.” The woman called from the second floor, consequently snapping him from his daze. Blinking a couple times he charged up the stairs, taking the polished wooden steps two at a time. Once at the top he saw an open door to his right, one of many along the hallway. Just like the rest of the house the room was big, wide windows letting in the evening sunlight and casting a warm glow across the chambers. You were splayed across the silk sheets, the smooth linen now dirtied by your blood and god knows who’s else's. Your shattered form contrasted with the affluence of the room and he felt like he had just walked into your funeral service. The woman was seated at your side next to the nightstand. She had a variety of medical supplies splayed across the small table; needles, thick thread, cotton, alcohol, steel scissors, gause.

“Help me adjust her.” She requested in a low tone. Levi nodded once before walking to the opposite side of the bed and gingerly grasping your shoulders. The woman had laid you haphazardly on your side, unable to properly lay you straight due to her old age. Levi was impressed nonetheless, however, that she had carried you all the way up those stairs from the front yard. He moved your body so you were laying on your back, arms against your sides. Not wanting to get in her way, Levi planted himself on the bed at your other side.

“I’m thankful that you brought her here.” She said as she cut away pieces of your shirt with the scissors. “But why in holy hell did you not bring her to a proper medical facility? Half of her got torn up by one of those fuckers.” She exclaimed, her voice quaked with emotion but her hands remained steady.

The woman really had a way with words.

“Apply pressure to her wound while I get the stitches.” She instructed, immediately padding about the room to gather her medical supplies. Levi did as he was told and cringed when your flesh squelched under his palm.

“The hospital at Krolva was full, they wouldn’t let us in because of the illness.” Levi explained in a voice uncharacteristically small. His gaze remained fixed on his hands. Damn, his fingers were twitching.

Your grandmother slammed a bottle of alcohol down on the nightstand in disgust. Her weathered arms shook slightly at the impact.

“That damned hospital, if you can even call it that, is never prepared to take on the ailments of this city.” She spat. Now having gathered all the necessary items she pulled the stool from the vanity and set it so she was level with your injury.

In the fray he hadn’t been able to get a proper look at your injury. The woman had bunched up your tattered shirt just under the swell of your chest. She examined your torso with seasoned eyes, yet Levi saw a tinge of worry laced in her gaze. The skin that was exposed looked like someone had taken a rake to it; indigo bruises framed a sea of tattered skin in the shape of a crescent moon. Your body bent in at an unnatural angle where the titan had bitten down on your side and Levi was just thankful that he couldn’t see any bone. Seeing you in this crippled state caused tears to sear the inside of his eyes but he refused to let the floodgates burst. This was not the time to be weak, especially with this woman here.

“Don’t go crying on me now, shorty. I know you aren’t the soft type.” Levi jumped at the familiarity in her tone. It put him on edge at first; he had arrived under dire circumstances now she was calling him names and was talking as if he was an old friend. But it was oddly comforting; the boldness and confidence in her voice eased away some of his jitteriness. He huffed in response before watching her work again.

Your grandmother used gentle fingers to assess the wound, gingerly prodding the areas where you should have had skin but you didn’t. She then reached for the cotton and alcohol and began to clean the wound as much as she could; the large teeth shaped holes in your side would be difficult for any trained physician to work with. But she handled the medical supplies with a grace Levi never considered possible. When she was finished cleaning your side she spoke up.

“She’s unconscious but she could still accidentally bite her tongue.” She stated, standing from the chair to rummage through the carven dresser. Out of the top drawer she pulled out a leather belt. She returned to the bedside and handed it to Levi.

“Place this in her mouth. I’m about to start stitching her wound.” She instructed, cutting a long piece of thread with the steel scissors. His fingertips brushed your jaw as he guided your mouth open. You were already slack jawed as little puffs of air were rising from your agape lips. He folded the belt in half two times and placed it between your teeth, careful to keep your tongue along the bottom of your mouth lest you started to choke.

Once he was done, Levi studied the woman’s hands as she prepared the needle. Her fingers were wrinkled, coarse, bent at the joints, and they looked like they had endured a lifetime of hard labor. Those aged fingers preformed with precision and finesse from the moment the needle entered your skin to the tying of the final thread.

Although not awake, you had in fact tried to bite down on the belt, letting out muffled groans each time skin met needle. Levi desperately wanted to look away each time but didn't out of fear you would bite through leather.

“Talk me through what happened.” Your grandmother said without a wavering of her concentration. Had she sensed his uneasiness? Levi swallowed hard, the action painful on his parched throat.

Levi’s whole body stung with exhaustion and pain as he prepared to explain. When he spoke again his voice was still hoarse but not as jagged as before.

“What was planned as a routine expedition turned into a recovery mission for Eren-”

“Mhmm, the boy who can shift into a titan.” Your grandmother interjected, mostly as clarification for herself. She attentively continued to thread you back together as if you were one of your chewed on stuffed animals that sat atop your dresser.

“Yeah. Y/N’s squad was set to clear out any incoming titans on the western edge. That’s when the abnormal appeared. I saw the flare and-” He explained, almost in a whisper. Damn did his throat hurt. Damn did everything hurt.

“You acted out of order.” Your grandmother stated simply. A knowingly somber smile upturning her wrinkled mouth. Her words and the soft manner in which they were said caused Levi’s mouth to hang agape mid sentence.

“Which I am grateful for. Otherwise she might have died alone out there.” She added. Her expression was as even as her handiwork but Levi could see that in her eyes concern was brewing like freshly charred coals.

“A ripe piece of shite it is that this is the longest conversation we’ve had isn’t it?” Your grandmother huffed a dry laugh. Levi could only nod in response as he watched your jaw clench when her needle deftly plunged into a heavily bruised area.

She was right. The other times he had interacted with the woman were brief and professional. Both were at military events that left little room for idle chatter, seeing as she was a highly praised veteran of the garrison. One interaction occurred before you two were committed and one...well that awkward experience could not have been far enough from the forefront of his mind.

It took thirty minutes for the woman to piece you back together but it felt like a fortnight for Levi.  When she was finished she exhaled loudly and wiped her hands on a now stained crocheted dish towel.

“All done.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. Levi couldn't begin to thank her enough for all she had done in such a short amount of time.

“Thank you, for everything.” He coughed, thus sending a wave of pain down his shoulder blade.

A huff of laughter left her lips and she sent a wyry smile his way.

“Well, what kind of grandmother would I be if I left my granddaughter as the remains of titan fodder? Come on let’s get her in some clean clothes and wash some of this blood off.” Levi nodded once and proceeded to help your grandmother get you changed and cleaned up. When the two of them had finished you almost looked back to your normal self; your body tucked under the satin covers in an elegant ivory nightgown. Your features were soft, plush lips parted and breathing steady. You now fit in with the lavish ambiance of the space. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. That is until he felt a poke on his arm.

“It won’t do either of us any good if we just sit here staring at her. Come downstairs, i’ll make you some food and stitch you up too.” Your grandmother was looking up at him sternly. Levi shot her a confused glare and she met his gaze with another chuckle.

“You don’t hide your wounds very well, humanity’s strongest. Now come on, don’t make an old lady wait.”

[orderoftheavengers]

Scarlet Legilimens

House: Ravenclaw

Species: Human/phoenix hybrid (formerly human)

Blood Status: Pureblood

(Pointless) Wand: Cherry, 13 inches, phoenix feather  

(Pointless) Broom: Firebolt Supreme

Patronus: Red-billed firefinch

Specialty: Legilimency, Occlumency, Flying, Dark Arts, Wandless Magic

Sorting

Wanda Maximoff is a living example of how the traits of Ravenclaw House may be applied to the most heinous villainy, and the most self-sacrificing heroism. As a villain, she is crafty and manipulative; as a hero, clever and intuitive. Her fighting style, for good or evil, is always more sneaky and innovative than “bold.” Ironically, her mind is also her weakest point as well as her strongest, as poor Wanda continuously ends up as the manipulated as often as the manipulator. A born Legilimens, her abilities, strengths and flaws are all mind related.

Note the “cleverness” and “ready mind” mentioned by the Sorting Hat needn’t always come in the form of a bookish nerd, as Luna Lovegood, Sybil Trelawney, Profeesor Quirrel and Professor Lockheart are all Ravenclaw. Wanda may not spend her free time studying or watching the Discovery Channel, but she does spend much of it experimenting with her powers, and letting her imagination loose. When faced with unbearable loss, she wasn’t immediately able to face her grief head-on, like a Gryffindor; nor, as a corrupt Ministry leader lied, did she try to resurrect her lost lover; instead, she escaped into her own mind, imagining up an (almost) complete fictitious life for herself and Vision, in a matter of seconds, without even realizing she was doing it.

Wanda is capable of impressive courage, ambition and loyalty, to be sure; but all of those things have wavered, when her reality was turned upside-down. She shed years of indoctrination after reading Ultron’s mind and seeing the grim truth. (And yes, she can read a machine’s mind! That’s a Ravenclaw right there.)

Durmstrang Experiments

Wanda and her twin brother Pietro were born to wizarding parents, in the tiny European nation of Sokovia. Wanda was a born Legilimens, like Queenie Goldstein, able to peek into others’ minds without having to perform any spells. A poor family, their father made ends meet by enchanting posters and lobby cards of old Muggle sitcoms to play out entire episodes, which he then sold to Muggle-enthusiasts in the wizarding world. Their home was decimated by a spell invented by Tony Stark, who never intended for it to end up in the claws of banshee terrorists. The twins ended up in a crap Muggle orphanage, which only intensified their prejudices. By the time they entered Durmstrang, a school infamous for professors that supported Dark Magic and even Voldemort, they were ripe for indoctrination and radicalization.

Due to Wanda’s being a Legilimens, the twins were selected for a dangerous experiment by their headmaster Professor Beowulf Von Stucker. Using the Mind Stone, the twins were to be fused with their wands. Wanda’s first name suddenly became very appropriate, a la Remus Lupin. Wanda merged with her phoenix-feathered wand, transforming the born Legilimens into a powerful human/phoenix hybrid. Her telepathic powers were enhanced, and she gained many powers of a phoenix, including flight, inhuman strength for her levitation spells, and being nearly indestructible. Being part wand also made her able to do wandless magic with no effort. Pietro, meanwhile, was merged with his Veela-hair wand, making him a human/Veela hybrid, and gifting him with a Veela’s dancing speed and silvery hair.

(A very special thanks to AlasterBoneman for the idea about Wanda's wand being integrated into her body.) Order of the Avengers Wanda and Pietro are finishing up their first year when they cross paths with the Order of the Avengers, and they don't exactly make a good first impression. Their vitriol against the Avengers and Tony Stark makes very little sense, especially given that Wanda is a telepath, and should easily see they aren't the villains (not to mention how much she has in common with Natasha, whose life story Wanda personally digs up). But, the twins are still only about eleven, and kids that age can be pretty stupid. The Avengers trace Loki's confiscated broom-scepter to Durmstrang, where the dark wizards from the Order of Hydra are keeping it. Wanda, having recently studied with a Boggart, uses her Legillimency to make the Avengers relive their traumas. Tony's fear shows Wanda that he clearly wants to protect the world, and yet she makes the very un-Ravenclaw decision to keep pursuing "revenge." Her plan inadvertently leads to Tony and Bruce accidentally creating a dangerous and ear-bleedingly-irritating gargoyle named Ultron, who the twins personally work with. Wanda even shocks Bruce into green-wolf form, and sends him on a rampage through one of the dormitories at Durmstrang (but it's not her or Pietro's House, so she could care less). Finally, after much too long, she puts her mental powers to some use, and reads Ultron's mind. That's when she puts two and two together. By then, Ultron has unleashed an army of Cornish Pixies to levitate Durmstrang Castle miles into the air, planning to drop it in an explosion of magic that will alert the Muggles to the existence of wizards. Huddled in a swaying castle tower, she confesses her guilt to Hufflepuff Clint Barton. Clint invites her to redeem herself by joining the Avengers. Durmstrang is saved, but sadly, Pietro takes a killing curse for Clint and another first year. wrought with grief and guilt, wanda begins her second year of schooling at Hogwarts, where--after an unusually long time on the stool--she is sorted into Ravenclaw. Her lonely mood is raised slightly when she finds the attractive new Golem, Vision, hovering to the Ravenclaw table alongside her.

The Scarlet Witch Hunt

Perhaps living on her own for a while is what finally helps Wanda regain the confidence to think for herself. When Vision suggests that they both drop out of their respective schools and just run off together, she urges him against the idea. When Vision senses a disturbance in his Mind Stone, she inspects it for him, but reports, “I just feel you.”

They are interrupted by a rude crowd of Trolls under their window, calling for Wanda’s blood. She’s fine to ignore them, but Vision—ever the logical Ravenclaw—is compelled intellectually argue with the Trolls in his lady's honor.

“Wanda is a redemption-seeking-antihero like Tony, who she has not expressed any hatred for since the Ultron fiasco—not even during the whole ‘Civil War’ calamity! In fact, of everyone on Team Cap, she was the least awful to Tony! The only verbal exchange between them during the whole drunk Quidditch match was a brief pout about being 'locked in her room,' which she had no problem with until Hawkeye came and pressured her. She was literally the only person in the Squid prison not insulting him! And just a few minutes ago, when I wanted her to run away with me, she was telling me to keep my loyalties to Stark, and when the news reported him missing she was visibly scared for him! Seriously, where are you Trolls even getting that she still hates Tony?”

One Troll with particularly long horns shouts back, “Well what about that cleavage and slutty red leather? Tony Stark was never a slu—er, wait…”

Vision is now standing in the window frame, unbuttoning his fly.

“Vision?” Wanda asks nervously. “What are you doing?”

A glittering, purple stream poursd out from her boyfriend’s “better wand,” threatening to deface the crowd below.

“Vision no!” she cries, quickly containing the violet river in an energy ball.

Steady hand…    she carefully lifts the ball of glistening liquid higher and higher into the air. …Not gonna screw this one up—

“I say Wanda, is that a giant flying donut?” Vision asks curiously.

Wanda glances up, and there is indeed a gargantuan space donut in the night sky, coming right for them. The strange sight distracts her, causing her hand to slip—just as she’s levitating Visions liquids right over said donut.

This enchanted pastry is in fact the vessel of some of Thanos’s most vicious minions. And Wanda has just drenched them in Vision’s you-know-what.

While Wanda gasps behind her hand, Vision suggests, “Let’s go for a walk.”

On their way down the quiet lamp-lit streets, they are soon stopped by a group of Thanos’s putrid goblin children, currently slightly more putrid than usual.

A blue female goblin roars, “Now you’ve really succeeded in pissing us off!”

Before she can stop herself, Wanda blurts out, “Pissed off? Smells more to me like you ‘been pissed on!”

Somewhere, a boxing bell dings, and a badass wizard’s duel begins.

Just when Wanda and Vision are cornered, a train passes by, causing all parties to freeze dramatically for no apparent reason. Wanda tries to make her body move, to take this opportunity to blast her opponents, but some force has her glued in place, as low music hisses theatrically throughout the night. The train passes, to reveal a shadowy figure, posing heroically. Instead of shooting the figure with a hex, one of the goblins simply throws a spear, which the figure catches expertly. Wanda and Vision both know that there is only one person on the planet would could make an entrance with this much ham and cheese.

Steve Rogers dramatically stepped into the light, revealing his fluffy new beard, and the duel gets a bit more epic.

Oh Snap

In the wizarding nation of Wakanda, Black Panther’s brilliant sister Shuri does her damndest to save her fellow Ravenclaw, and safely remove the Infinity Stone from Vision’s forehead. Sadly, Thanos’s forces overwhelm her, and Wanda is forced to kill her lover--the last family she has left. Many would assume only a Gryffindor would have the resolve to do this, but a Ravenclaw’s wisdom and pragmatism can go a long way.

Ever the sadist, that purple f*ck Thanos uses the Time Stone to resurrect Vision and kill him again, in front of Wanda, and even has the gault "comfort" her in a patronizing manner.

And yet, she’s not so distraught when Thanos’s Dusting curse comes for her. It could be that she’s so despaired by now that she welcomes death. Or maybe the half-phoenix simply doesn’t react to dissolving into ash the same way other beings might…

…in any case, she is resurrected over the summer by Bruce Banner. Vision, sadly, isn’t. In her grief, Wanda accidently traps herself and the entire school of Hogwarts inside the Mirror of Erised, but that's another story entirely. 

Wand, Broom and Patronus

Cherry wood is associated with some of the most powerful and lethal wands.  Phoenix feather wands are considered to have the widest range of magic, and are among the post powerful, yet also the most difficult to tame. 

The red-billed firefinch is one of the few bird species where the females sport some red coloring. These birds are tiny and quiet, but very active. They are flexible about where they live and with whom; they can mix with other bird species, and can live in the wild or captivity, provided they always have plenty of space. Their nests are different from other birds', having a dome shape and being low in bushes. Not unlike the hidden fortress Wanda creates, to hide her family. These crafty birds also build mock-nests to fool predators.  

AN: This has undergone some changes in both the story and image, since the release of "WandaVision." If anyone is for any reason attached to Wanda's old broom, the previous version is saved in my Stash. I plan to reuse that fire design somewhere else, possibly for Harry's Firebolt in my more serious Potter art.

[ladyninjaa]

Smooth Chaos (2)

Imagine: Izuku watching as the League of Villains kidnaps you and Bakugo. 

Part One

The following weeks were tough but you were determined to ignore Izuku completely; you were hurt but he made it obvious he wanted nothing to do with you, so, you did the same. Shoto wasn’t exactly thrilled with Izuku and obviously halted their friendship until his twin decided to be friends with Izuku again which didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. 

And then the training camp came along and it was a good distraction for everyone; especially for you. It wasn’t hard to focus on Izuku when you were training your body past your normal limit and vice versa for Izuku. It was fine, everything was fine...until the second night when there would be 1-B class hiding in the forest to scare 1-A with only their quirks. 1-A was paired up in eight teams while five of your classmates had to take classes with Aizawa-sensei. 

And it was your luck that you got paired with Izuku.

Izuku was freaking out. 

You had a blank, stone-cold look on your face. 

Everyone else seemed to be thinking something would pop off between you. “We can trade,” Shoto’s voice snapped you out of your train of thought but you shook your head. 

“I’ll suck it up,” You mumbled quietly, “What’s the worse that can happen?” You shrugged but on the inside, you were seething and Shoto knew. 

“If we were in a cartoon, there would be smoke coming out of your ears.” Shoto deadpanned. 

You couldn’t help but laugh and Shoto smiled, “There would be, huh?” You giggled as the first pair went into the forest and you stood beside your brother until it was his turn to walk through the forest with Bakugo; you waved goodbye to your brother as Bakugo stomped over. You moved to stand somewhat close to Izuku who suddenly seemed very pale and nervous now that you were within a few meters of him. 

You rolled your eyes in mild annoyance. 

An occ shriek would come from the forest but it wasn’t until the smell of something putrid in the air that you felt something off. Pixie-Bob was the first to respond and soon, the students were panicking as Pixie-Bob was thrown back and attacked by two villains. You stared in horror as Pixie-Bob laid on the ground with a bad head wound that was gushing blood. “Why are there villains here?!” Mineta screeched in horror. 

Izuku instinctively ran forward but was stopped by Mandalay and Tiger. Mandalay and Izuku exchanged glances and Izuku’s eyes widened in horror. You watched with confusion as these villains proclaimed themselves from the League of Villains. It wasn’t long that chaos ensued and Mandalay and Tiger directed the remaining students back to camp where Aizawa-sensei was and then Izuku went off to find Kota on his own.

You didn’t want to go; your brother was in there somewhere in that chaos! “Y/N! We have to go!” Lida-Kun tugged at your arm lightly, “I know you’re worried about your brother but have faith in him and our classmates!” Lida reassured. You swallowed harshly and nodded and the group rushed back to camp to find Aizawa. 

You were scared; chaos was erupting around you. There were quakes shaking the ground, fire and smoke destroying the forest, and the smell of poison spreading more and more throughout the area. But Lida was right, you had to have faith in your friends and your brother. 

Right as Lida and the group reached the classroom where Aizawa-sensei was along with the rest of the students from 1-A and 1-B who didn’t pass their final exams, but it wasn’t long until Aizawa-sensei left to figure out what exactly was happening. Then the order came in that Aizawa-sensei was granting the students permission to fight back against the villains that you fled out of the classroom ignoring the calls from your shocked friends. 

Your brother was out there! You’ll be damned if you didn’t go find him and make sure he was alright! When you reached outside the building, Aizawa-sensei was nowhere in sight and it was quiet in this area but you could see the blue flames growing in the distant forest and the smell of poison was faint. The gas hadn’t spread far then. 

“Well, well,” A rough voice drawled lazily, “Y/N Todoroki.” You whirled around and were faced with blue eyes and a man with decayed skin stitched against his healthy skin. Your stomach churned as the man grinned lazily at you--he seemed familiar…but the memory of this man was foggy. 

“Who are you?” You snarled getting into a fighting stance. 

“Don’t remember me, huh,” He scoffed, “I guess I’m not surprised.” 

He lunged at you but you slammed your hand against the encase yourself in thick, ice. “You think this will stop me?” The voice drawled with a chuckle before you heard the sound of ice melting and suddenly you ducked as a blast of blue fire burst through. Your ice shattered and suddenly Mandalay was relaying a message.

You flipped away as the man in the trench coat lunged at you with blue flames erupting from his hands, you were quick and agile enough to dance around this guy’s attacks. You barely heard what Mandalay was saying until you heard her say your name.

It threw you off and the man grinned and took advantage of his opening. He slammed his hand against your stomach, you flew back with a cry of shock and slammed into a tree--it had been so quick that his attack and you hitting a tree was a simple blur. 

You dropped to the ground coughing up blood. 

“Oh, sorry,” The man muttered with a frown, “I put too much force in that hit, my bad.” He shrugged walking up to you. 

Your hands clutched the dirt of the ground and you froze the ground in the entire area. The guy looked down at his feet encased in thick, cold ice and clicked his tongue in annoyance, “This won’t stop me--” You were in his face, punching him in the jaw with your fist encased in jagged ice. He threw his arms up and he flew back but you were on him again, attacking him relentlessly. 

He growled and starting blasting thick streams of flames in your general direction but you would encase your body in thick ice to protect your flying body long enough to reach and hit him. 

“You’re a lot stronger than I even anticipated,” The guy mused as you stood a few feet away from him, “Perhaps stronger than Shoto.” 

“How do you know about my brother!?” You snarled angrily trying to control your impulses; he was baiting you, you knew he was baiting you. 

The man smirked lazily, “Maybe I’ll pay him a visit if he’s the weaker twin.”

“Over my dead body!” You snarled ferociously and suddenly everything was frozen in a bubble of solid ice to entrap him long enough that help would arrive but this was the first time you were attempting this attack--the cold never bothered you but your body was shaking from the energy needed to freeze the entire area, the air, the trees, the ground, that stupid man! You squeezed your eyes shut and begged your body to hold on! 

You tried to move but your body felt like it was being weighed down by bricks; Your body trembled and your heart rate was slowing down; you were freezing yourself. Your body wasn’t ready for a move of this magnitude. Suddenly an eruption of fire and ice; you cried as you were through back from the suddenness of the attack. 

Your body trembled as you struggled on your feet; you were light-headed and disorientated, “Impressive,” The man murmured; steam was rising up from his body; your ice hadn’t been enough to completely freeze him. His flames were a lot stronger than you had anticipated. “But that was stupid,” He began to walk towards you with a chuckle, “You almost froze yourself to death and you underestimated the strength of my flames; a move made out of desperation.” 

“Stay away from me!” You screamed; your voice sending icicles through the air erratically; it was sudden and unpredictable that a few of the sharp icicles hit the man. He looked down at his arm and melted the icicle that was embedded into his flesh. 

“You still have some fight in you,” He mused holding out his hand towards you, “Let’s see for how long.” 

And your world was engulfed in blue flames. 

Shoto’s world was spinning; he was in the thick of the chaos running through the forest with his friends trying to get Bakugo back to safety but his thoughts swirled around his twin; Izuku had told him that she and the others had been sent to the camp with Aizawa-sensei. 

He was scared; they wanted his sister, why?

He had to get to her as soon as possible; he couldn’t live with himself if something happened to his sister. Then the man who managed to snatch Bakugo and Tokoyami was running away and the words that the man said sent a ripple of shock through everyone; “Targets acquired.” 

Targets….Acquired….

Y/N! Shoto’s heart dropped and horror-filled his stomach. “No!” Shoto roared, “I won’t let you get away!” Shoto and his friends rushed forward in an attempt to try to save their friends and his sister. What would his mother think knowing he had lost his sister? 

You were drifting in and out of consciousness but you were being carried and when you could see it was by that man with the blue eyes and crudely stitched skin. Did you lose? You couldn’t remember anything at the moment...everything seemed like a big blur. “Oh, you’re awake,” The man noticed glancing down at you, “I thought I knocked you out too hard, glad I didn’t.”

There was another man in suit talking rapidly and into different tones; what the hell was going on? In the midst of this guy’s rambling, you caught the name of the man holding you; Dabi. 

But before you could do anything else, your world faded again. 

But the sounds of a battle woke you up; you were being held by the guy with the suit, the one who talks way too much. Dabi was blasting his flames towards...who? You groaned quietly.

“Are you hurt miss?” The man asked before quickly saying, “She’s cute!” And then “She’s too young, do you want to go to jail?!” 

“You talk too much,” You muttered with a headache.

“Yeah!” followed by, “That’s mean!” and then, “You aren’t very nice!” 

“She can’t move, put her on the ground and fight!” Dabi snarled launching an attack. 

“Sorry for this!” followed by, “If you run, I’ll spank you!” and then, “You idiot! You sound like a pervert!” and then the first voice apologizing again before dropping you on the ground and attacking with a young girl. 

You heard Shoto’s voice. 

“S-Shoto?!” You cried out in a hoarse voice. 

“Y/N!” Shoto shouted angrily before you heard Shoto call out to Izuku and Shoji. Your head was spinning and you were begging your body to please work, something was happening and you had to do something! 

But your body was too tired to move; you overworked your body to the point where it could barely move. Everything hurt! Your eyes were drooping but you screamed in your mind to stay awake! The loud explosions kept jolting you awake until Dabi bent down to pick you up effortlessly. “Time to go, Princess.” Dabi murmured. You weakly pushed against Dabi. 

“L-Let me go!” You muttered. 

“In a few moments, I will,” Dabi murmured. 

You struggled but your body couldn’t move; you could only watch as your brother and friends watched in horror as Dabi stepped into the warp gate slowly with you in his arms. The man with the compressing quirk disappeared through the warp gate but not before snapping his fingers. 

Dabi readjusted his grip on you so that you were on his shoulder, and Bakugo appeared in front of Dabi; Dabi’s hand gripping Bakugo around the throat to hold Bakugo in place. 

Shoto and Izuku screamed your name and Bakugo’s. “No problem,” Dabi mused as both Shoto and Izuku charged in a desperate and weak attempt to retrieve both of you back; “Shoto!” You cried out.

“Don’t come, Deku!” Bakugo managed to choke out. 

“Kacchan! Y/N! KACCHAN! Y/N!” 

And then they were gone. 

Shoto collapsed to the ground with tears in his eyes, “No,” Shoto whispered in horror as his heart broke, “Y/N…” 

Izuku choked back on his sobs as tears streamed down his face...He couldn’t save them...He wasn’t fast enough….wasn’t strong enough….and now they were gone. Izuku threw his back and released a heart-wrenching wail. Shoto punched the ground and cried--they took his sister….they took you. 

And now, Izuku, Shoto, Shoji, and Tokoyami were left in the deafening silence of defeat. 

I feel like this was very meh. I kinda have mixed feelings about this one. Kinda all over the place...Sorry >_<

[maskshop]

some things i made and the doll i drew up for the fanart contest winner! she is going to be a kirin and i can't wait to start on her this weekend.

the two doll faces are available as patches or with ribbon to hang on a wall or rearview mirror on my etsy! the putrid pumpkin pixie has been sold.

etsy | instagram | facebook | twitch

[magical-gays-au-fanartfunart]

Chitty Chitty Crash Bang Bang

Summary: Superhero AU- In which Virgil worries over Roman & we get to find out what happened to Remus.

Ships: Logicality and Prinxiety

Warnings: Yelling/Arguing, Parent/family.... issues, running away, brief physical violence, pain/injury (its like a Super reoccurring theme here), death mention, concussion mention/discussion, (Ro may or may not have lasting issues), roman’s pretty good at avoiding talk of doctors or like, anything, crying, probably poorly translated Spanish...

Tell me if anything else needs a warning!

Words: lots. (I give up.)

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - ^ - 8 -

-

They were yelling. The muffled sounds hardly discernible from his room. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel it. Each shriek only made his stomach drop even more.

Stop yelling.

He should turn on his music.

Stop yelling.

He should do Something.

Stop yelling.

Shouldn’t he be down there? Playing mediator like he does far too often now.

Stop yelling stop it stop stop STOP.

A door slammed. Roman froze. Front door. Not a bedroom door. He scrambled up to look out his window. A figure with a well worn backpack and a stained, putrid green hoodie he’d always hated, stalked down the street, retreating from the house. It was like a weight was thrown on his chest.

Roman scrambled down the stairs.

“Let him go,” his mother yelled from the kitchen, voice stained with something close to tears.

Roman turned to look at her, frowning.

“He’ll come back, mijo. Let him blow off some steam.”

Roman curled his hand into a fist, shaking his head, not trusting himself to just get into a screaming match of his own. He darted out the door, slamming it behind him.

He vaguely registered his mother calling after him. She didn’t even call Remus back. She let him storm off and didn’t even- no no she was just mad. She was mad, he was mad, and people make dumb decisions when they’re mad.

His breaths slammed against his chest in time with his feet slamming against pavement. “Remus!”

Remus began to shift from a brisk walk to a full run. Roman raced to catch his brother- he was always just a bit faster than him, just enough. He had to be just fast enough. He had to. “Remus, stop!” He gripped the handle of Remus’s backpack and yanked.

His twin yelped as he was thrown backwards and narrowly missed being entirely thrown to the pavement. Roman huffed as he caught his breath, eyes wild and wide as he stared at his brother. His crying brother.

Remus ripped himself from Roman’s grasp, “Leave me the hell alone.” Remus huffed, voice scratchy and rough.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your damn business!” Remus all but screeched, shoving Roman back. “I don’t need you to play hero! I’m not the damsel in distress, get the hell out of my way!”

“I’m not trying to-” Remus’s fist collided with his jaw. Roman swore, slipping into a fighting stance out of instinct as he gingerly brushed over his tender jaw.

Remus’s breaths came in ragged and sharp. Fist curling in on itself, nails digging into his palm. “Don’t. Just. Don’t. Don’t follow me. Don’t pretend to be sorry. Don’t pretend I belong.”

He wished he’d protested.

That he’d followed him anyway.

That he’d punched that grim little smile right off his face.

Something.

Instead he just watched his brother shake his head and walk away. Instead, he stood there telling himself the same broken logic his mother had used. He’s gonna come back. He’s just gotta blow off some steam. He’ll be back. And it’ll be fine.

It’ll be fine.

-Now

2 years later.-

“Aw, you can call me Kate, no need for formalities! Hey, I’ll even take ‘Mom’ if you’d rather!”

“Mom,” Virgil hissed at the woman who looked exactly and nothing like her child with her brightly colored pink pixie cut and pastel sundress with a black punk jacket hanging on her shoulders, the shoulders and lapel adorned with a small trans flag patch, several buttons and a small gold floral pin. She shared her kind, tired eyes with her son, although she clearly had a few years of laugh lines on him. She was clearly taller than her child, and if she tugged him into a hug right then and there, Roman was sure Virgil would fit perfectly under her chin.

They fit. In their own odd way.

Roman smiled. It felt a bit easier to breathe for a moment.

Kate hummed, gaze flickering over the boy in front of her. She clicked her tongue, “Poor dear- Did anybody clean you up even a little? First thing you’re doing is taking a shower.”

Roman blinked, “Um-” He blinked a few times as Kate began to turn back towards her car.

“I hope you like pizza. Are you allergic to anything at all?”

"Um. No.”

”And what about milk?” Virgil said. There was a flicker of a glare in his eyes, but it was overshadowed by a smirk and a gentle shake of his head.

“That’s an intolerance, not an allergy.” Roman waved a hand dismissively, “Totally different!”

Mother and son made the same skeptical sound.

-

Roman really hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Really. It was just, after they settled in the car- He was exhausted. It was like a switch flipped after he sat down again. And watching the road flicker past was so calming. And Virgil was still talking to his mother, and he was already nodding off and really the only thing left was to let his heavy eyelids fall. He woke up to soft mummers and a gentle brush of a hand on his shoulder. Heavens, did everything hurt this much the first time around? His head was killing him.

“Hey,” Virgil whispered, and really, what business did he have being so gentle?

Roman’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton. He hummed in acknowledgement, eyes reluctant to open, it seemed. Or- oh wait. Never mind. He could see now. …Was that something he should like… be worried about?

“Up an’ at ‘em, Sleeping Beauty,” Virgil’s hushed voice continued, and Roman’s vaugely aware of pressure on his shoulders and a step down.

“Sorry,” Roman muttered, and he wasn’t exactly sure what for yet.

“I don’t mind. You can keep sleeping once we’re inside if you need to.”

Roman took in a breath and ended up nodding somewhere along the surprisingly short walk.

The next time Roman woke up from another dreamless state, he was smothered by a blanket far too heavy to be considered normal and it really wasn’t helping the process of waking up. There was a tap of a keyboard that seemed to echo around the room. Something was cold and wet on his head. The typing stopped. Virgil was putting back on fingerless gloves when Roman finally sat up and looked at him.

Roman blearily looked down at the cloth that had fallen off his head. “Oh.”

“You ‘kay?”

“No, I’m Roman,” he mumbled, lips flickering up a little.

Virgil rolled his eyes, settling on the edge of the bed.

“It’s really dark in here,” Roman whispered, without really meaning to.

“Good, ‘cause it’s apparently helpful for concussions and stuff,” Virgil whispered back, because that’s what you do.

“Oh so I got a concussion now?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Did you put up that black-out blanket for me then, or like, have you always been allergic to daylight?”

“You’ve discovered my secret,” a smile already on his lips, “I’m a vampire.”

“Well hell, here I thought you’d sparkle.”

Roman jumped a little as a creature hopped up from under the bed to onto it. The newcomer rubbed her body against Roman’s side. He froze, suddenly tense and unsure. Virgil’s eyes flickered over the other. He smiled, deciding to focus on his cat.

“Speaking of vampires,” Virgil snapped his fingers, and the cat pranced over to him, allowing him to pet her, “This is Buttercup.”

Roman nodded, watching them.

“How do you feel?” Virgil asked. The hushed tone still lingering in his voice. “For real.”

Roman shrugged, “More tired than I thought, I guess.”

He shifted and smiled as Buttercup passed back over towards him, purring loudly. “Hey lovely lady,” he whispered, rubbing the cat’s head. He glanced up at Virgil, “Sleeping in the car probably made every single bone in my body scream in protest, though.”

Virgil swore, “You don’t have any like-”

“Bleeding? Broken bones?” Roman placed a hand on his chest, leaning back into the pillows of the bed, (the cat following him down and standing on his chest) “Oof. Ouch. My bones.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No, how would you know I’m not dead?”

Virgil shoved him in a way that was so gentle Roman wasn’t sure he actually touched him.

“Seriously, do we have to like, take you to a doctor?”

Roman shook his head, “I’m okay. I promise.”

“All you need is ‘(not)’ and you’ve got my favorite song.”

“Oh, you can’t be serious!” Roman makes an effort to sound affronted, and Virgil smiles like he holds all the secrets of the universe. Buttercup chirps, and the boys giggle, because the world’s just a little steadier now.

-

“It’s fine Dee! No, I don’t- I’m fine. Estoy bien! Oh my h- Sí claro! I’m staying over at a friend’s, ok?”

Roman raised his hand to mimic the ramble from the other end of the phone. Virgil smirked in return, despite his focus being on how Roman’s movements were a little more tired and sluggish than normal. He’s tired. He gets to be tired. Heck. He should be tired. Didn’t stop Virgil from worrying about it.

“Eres un pesado, ¿sabes que, sí?” Roman snorted, “What! I’m just saying- Yeah, I hate you too.” 

Virgil nestles his head into his arms on the table.

Roman sighs in defeat, and mimics Virgil’s posture, pouting as if to make a point to the other, “Ok, I will. Don’t kill anybody over it, I’d be terribly distraught-” Roman practically freezes.

He swallows, but it doesn’t clear the waver in his voice when he utters, “¿Qué?”

“What?” Virgil whispers, brows knitting together, leaning forward.

Roman glances up at Virgil and shakes his head, “No, Re- um. No. No creo que le vi.” Roman takes in a heavy breath, “¿p- por qué?”

An uneasy smile crosses Roman’s face and he nods, “Ok. Um- I better go, V- my friend’s mom promised to get us pizza. See you later, ok? I feel like I haven’t seen you for forever. Kay. Adiós.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nada, I-” Roman let out a huff of a breath, “Dee just wanted to know if I- saw somebody. It- It doesn’t really matter.”

Virgil shifts to sit up better, nodding, “Um, okay.”

Roman leans back, rubbing the nape of his neck, "What's the emo do on days like this anyway?" Virgil knows a subject change when he sees one, and he sighs, smiling, "I mean- what do you do? I don’t usually have- People. Over." Roman grins, “What’s your opinion on Disney?”

-

The speaker crackles on the other end of the line when it answers. “Hey DeeDee! Pleasure or Business?”

“I hope you have an explanation for yourself Remus.”

“Ah, skipping the pleasure going straight to business, I see how it is.”

Dee sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Where are you?”

“Where I always am DeeDee. Hanging with Choco and Loco, between Nowhere and Noneof Yourbuismess.”

A point is made with silence.

“Fine, fine. I’m in town.” The line crackles. A vague sound of movement, like the rustle of a bag, “Did you know Mama y Papa aren’t home?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Dee shifts the phone to his other ear, leaning to the side, “No idea.”

“Why you lyin!” Remus shouted into the speaker. Dee forced himself to relax his shoulders. Remus sighed exaggeratedly heavily into the phone, “Fine, don’t tell me. How long have they been out? I can’t imagine they’d leave their favorite son all by himself too long now.”

“Remus, do you know what happened?”

“Maybe,” the line crackled in a way that almost sounded like a giggle, “enlighten me.”

Dee leaned back against the door frame of his room, “That’s the clearest confession of guilt out of your mouth if I’ve ever heard it. You’re aware Roman could’ve gotten killed, yes?”

The line falls silent.

“Oh, nevermind, I’m sure you thought about it. What am I saying?” Dee glanced at his hands, checking his nails.

“Do you want to know what his new little power is or not?”

“So that’s what this was about,” Dee said, a gentle smirk crossing his face, “Please. Do inform me. It would be nice to know.”

[the-ipre]

Fantasy High TMA AU for @rabdoidal, happy birthday! can be read here on ao3

half human

“End recording.” Adaine put the statement she had been reading back on the desk, pushing her glasses up as she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. The statement had been about a man who had collapsed into a pile of bones when a book he carried everywhere was stolen, and she could almost feel the flesh sloughing off of her own skeleton.

That had been happening more often as of late. Not specifically the feeling that she was going to lose all her skin, although that did sometimes happen, but more that strange sensation that she was taking on the stories that she recorded. Vertigo and the tickle of legs crawling on the back of her neck and a dozen other things really didn’t help lessen her anxiety, and she found herself getting even less sleep than she had before.

Adaine knew that the dark circles under her eyes had just been getting worse, and she had her meds but they weren’t as helpful as they used to be and that was just one more thing on the list of things she had to do, but instead she just picked up the next statement to record.

She heard her recorder click on, but before she could open the folder her eyes were drawn to the doorway, a moment before a figure stepped into it.

Fabian was pinned in place by her gaze for a second, and then he visibly shrugged it off and sauntered into the room. “Hello, Adaine,” he said, dropping himself in the chair across from her. “Why haven’t you replaced this yet? I swear, it’s poking into me in at least three places.”

“Hi? And usually it’s just me, people don’t usually stay here for longer than just dropping things off.” Adaine let her unspoken question hang in the air while Fabian adjusted, crossing one leg over the other and avoiding her eyes.

He lifted a shoulder up in a shrug and put on that sharp smile he wore when he needed the world to believe he knew what he was doing. “It is your lucky day, then, because I am not just here to drop something off.” Fabian paused, and Adaine folded her hands and raised her eyebrows, waiting to see if he was going to actually tell her what he was doing. When she didn’t say anything, he sighed, floating a hand in the air in what was probably exasperation. “Fine, I was talking to Kristen, and she told me that I needed to give you a statement, which is honestly ridiculous, but now here I am, so.”

Adaine blinked at that. Fabian talked a lot, blustering with enough stories to fill the archive by himself, but he hadn’t given a statement before, and he seemed heavily opposed the times that she had asked. “You want to give a statement.”

“I don’t want to, Adaine, but Kristen told me to, and if I had stayed and argued she would have, I don’t know, tried to make me actually deal with the issues she says I have and I know I don’t have, so. Here I am!” He smiled, put his hands on his knees as he leaned forward. “I am Fabian Aramais Seacaster, and I have a story to tell. Look, your recorder is already on, might as well!”

“Oh, it is. Huh.” Adaine pushed up her glasses and locked eyes with Fabian. “Statement taken directly from subject, February 29th, 2016. Statement begins.”

Fabian seemed to sit up straighter, dramatic movements of his arms becoming more intentional, pointed, even though they wouldn’t be caught by the tape recorder. “So, this particular story takes place in high school. Junior year, if my memory serves.” The tone of his voice said of course it serves, with the constant undercurrent of because I’m Fabian Aramais Seacaster . “It was Christmas Eve, and my buddy, Ragh – Ragh Barkrock, if you need his full name for research – called me up, and asked if I wanted to go fuck shit up. I said yes, of course.”

Fabian sighed, lowered his voice. Adaine did her best to keep her face neutral, because for the moment, his posturing seemed to be slipping away. It usually did when she took statements – for some reason, people seemed to want to tell the truth when the recorder got turned on – but Fabian was a fan of stories, especially ones that made him look good. From the hunch of his shoulders, she didn’t know if this would be one of those.

“My parents were, ah, what’s a good word. They were difficult to be around, sometimes, and the holidays didn’t exactly help with that. So when Ragh gave me an out, I grabbed my letterman jacket and left. We were on the football team together, and we weren’t really friends, because who has friends in high school, but it was, again, high school , so we both had a lot of unresolved issues. Easier to not discuss your unresolved issues together, you know? “ Fabian huffed out a laugh, but it wasn’t the kind that he usually threw around, the one that was all show and look over here . It was just a self-deprecating huff of breath, and Adaine nodded, encouraging him to keep going.

Adaine hadn’t had quite the same high school experience – also bad, but in a different direction – but she let him keep talking. She wasn’t a therapist, despite once thinking that she might like to help people like that. Instead, she just listened, and recorded, and gently encouraged Fabian to keep talking.

“We met up at the old arcade. It was locked and dark – I don’t think that I had ever seen it open the whole time I lived in that town – but Ragh had a scowl on his face and a crowbar in each hand, so when he tossed me one I took it. See, football is a good way to get out your aggression, but there are still rules to it. You have to play by them, even if you don’t play fair , but for all of the tackling it is still so…” Fabian ran his fingers through his carefully styled hair. “It’s so civilized . What happened that night- well, football can’t really compare, can it?”

“We broke in – I was kind of surprised that there wasn’t an alarm, honestly, but by the time I was worrying about that Ragh had already broken the glass of the door and we were inside. It was- have you ever been in an abandoned place at night?” Adaine shook her head. Her high school experience was much more along the lines of staying home and barricading herself in her room as best she could. “Well, the only light came from the street lights outside and the flashlight on my phone, but the colors of the carpet were still garish. The glass and plastic of the games reflected light that I wasn’t able to see the source of, and it felt like the whole place was just, I don’t know, holding its breath.”

Fabian flexed his hand like he was remembering the feeling of a crowbar in his hands, and Adaine realized that she hadn’t blinked since Fabian started giving his statement. She did, just to show that she could, and that this was normal, and that Fabian was still just Fabian .

“I realized that neither of us had said anything yet. It’s a strange thing, to just accept a crowbar from someone and break into an abandoned arcade, but I suppose that’s just what it’s like to be in high school. Well, it was all so quiet, and then, suddenly, it wasn’t. Ragh let out a scream, smashing his crowbar against one of the games, and there was no point in asking how his day was going then , so I took a swing as well.”

As Fabian lifted his chin and grimaced, Adaine almost thought that his teeth were more pointed than they had been when he first came into her small office. “At some point one of us broke into the money collector of one of the games and there were quarters rolling across the floor. Honestly, most of that night was a blur, but there was...there was this one game that I stayed away from, at least at first. It had a little pixie on it, a tiny dude with a weird grin and big glasses, and above the screen were the words ‘Beat Biz.’” Fabaian cracked his neck, barked out another laugh. It seemed like there was an energy crawling under his skin as he spoke, fingers starting to move restlessly, twisting in his pressed pant legs or tugging at the air.

“The vibes of that game were just putrid , so I stayed away, and I’m pretty sure that together Ragh and I pushed over a different game. But then, it was the only thing left untouched in the whole room. It almost looked like it was, I don’t know, glowing, or something, but there wasn’t really much light coming in from outside at that point, and I didn’t know where my phone had gone. I turned to look at Ragh, and I was pretty sure that he had started crying at some point. Then, something in his eyes...changed.” At that, Fabian stood up, paced a few steps, and then returned to stand in front of the desk, casting a shadow over the tape recorder and Adaine’s hands.

“He ran past me, and he swung his crowbar into the screen, and there had been a lot of noise in that arcade that night but that one seemed to break through everything else.” Fabian exhaled, crossed his arms, and looked at the wall over Adaine’s head.

“The game screamed .”

With that he started pacing again, steps growing less and less measured and more movement for the sake of moving, letting off energy, chasing without running and the barely contained need to sprint. “He went crazy, hitting it again and again.” Fabian’s voice grew quiet. “I helped him push it over.” There was a tension in his shoulders, and his hands were flexing, and all Adaine could do – wanted to do, if she were honest, and she really didn’t want to be in this moment – was just watch. “I looked down, and there was blood on my sneakers. It was- the broken screen had shattered inwards, and the glass was stuck in some sort of meat , and the game was oozing blood onto the floor, and it was soaking into my socks , and Ragh was still there, crying and screaming and attacking the thing with a crowbar.”

All the energy seemed to leave Fabian at that, body tense and hands curled at his sides as some horror played out before his eyes again. Adaine glanced down at the recorder to make sure that it was still recording. It was.

“I went home. I couldn’t stay, and I knew that if I tried to get Ragh to stop he would attack me just as brutally as he had that machine. Don’t ask me how I knew, but I did , and so I just went home. My papa saw the blood on my shoes and he congratulated me.” Fabian sat back down. “Ragh was back at school in January, but something was different. He seemed...hollow. After that night, he didn’t invite me out again. I think...I think I’m glad that he didn’t. I don’t know if I would have gone, or if I would have been able to escape again.”

Adaine spoke, throat dry even as her voice was clear and even. “Statement ends.”

When Fabian blinked, he seemed to come back to himself, and he drew his shoulders up. Those layers of defenses rose again, and hidden was the high school boy who had been lost to that destruction of the arcade. “Well, that was, ah-”

Adaine clicked her recorder off before she spoke. She wasn’t a therapist, she was just someone who was supposed to listen and watch and record, but this was her friend. She didn’t want to be someone who only wanted to observe. “Fabian, are you okay?”

Fabian shook his head and took a breath, and for a moment Adaine thought that he was actually going to process an emotion for the first time in his life. Then, she smelled the copper tang of blood, faint but unable to get away from in the small room, and Fabian lifted his chin and put that smile back on again. “Tell Kristen that I gave a statement so she gets off my back about it.”

With that, he stood up and left, taking the smell of blood with him.

Adaine was left alone in her small office, surrounded by files and dust and stories that were not her own, and she had the sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to be getting much sleep that night.

[barbaranestor2]

No pirouettes inside speedballs cemeteries

I need the spring groom the pogo bums I need the magic broom the neon clown I need the genius ghoul.the gothic drums To convince magicians that it’s forbidden To pirouette inside speedballs cemeteries No more beatniks and steam punk tattoos I opened the museum to remember muses Some china porcelains some disco globes Some green pixies that stole moon records Nemesis said no to mollies and methadone No more putrid spoons and golden needles I cooked up a batch and met medusa home

[basilepesso]

Nos Voiles Mentaux

Et j’attends, et j’attends, et ça ne viendra plus Ca fait longtemps déjà que tout ça s’est éteint Toute velléité, tout brin de résistance On était si bravach’, on était tous dehors Suivant des journalist’ et des dessinateurs Qui nous faisaient marrer, ou nous exaspéraient Mais qui sous les kalachs’ ne méritaient pas d’être La bouillie d’amus’ment d’apprentis barbarians. Oui, petit à petit, c’est l’invers’ qui gagna Les têtes se rentrèrent, les épaul’ se courbèrent On se dit “final’ment, c’est plus facile’ comme ça” On n’savait pas vraiment de qui on avait peur : Si Brahim allait v’nir nous arracher les yeux Ou Christoph’ nous tancer dans ses colonn’ putrides Si un journal ricain allait au pilori Nous clouer devant des millions de cerveaux fous. Devant ce doux mélange nous rendîmes les armes, Et apprîmes à nos chiards à marcher contre un mur A baisser fort les yeux quand on croise Mouloud Et à dire “oui Madame !” quand elle nous dit racistes. Nous sommes les nouveaux, les nouveaux humanistes Nous f’sons partie du lot, de leur bell’ sarabande Et plus jamais la fièvr’ d’un amour impudique Ne pourra nous saisir sous nos voiles mentaux. Basile Pesso, Totally DeadLand, 7 avril 2 020 Pixies covering Neil Young, I’ve been Waiting for You

[vitaekin]

anyway juni reminded me i wanted 2 post this but in - game malkavians do just hear voices in their head all the time.  playing as jo i am just always gettin Helpful Whispers, so here are some!!  ill make up my own ofc but the ones in game are fun:

triggers at random: "Bone round in melody and word layed in rain." "Cemetery runoff congealing at the door." "Maggots love you. Trust me." "Mast lay shrouded and the moon is melting." "Try the corpse in the oven with peppers and fur." "Souls draped in rotten tatters and Father dances in the dark." "Make the tallow from the fat of a hangman." "Deep of the Atlantic, the Ark, dreaming, sleeping." "Elkabo, elkabo, pixy queen where all is green." "Can't see, can't see! Where have my eyes gone to?" "Heloise said you. Cranberry sauce. Hotel foxtrot." "Stop doing that. Mother shan't be too pleased. None too pleased." (  Sobbing  ) triggers when in danger: "Evil crouches." "Death." "DIE!" (  Evil laugh  ) "I smell a rancid grave." "You're in for it now." "Rustling robes of the Reaper." (  Evil laugh  ) "They're coming." triggers when deluding others: "All are blind whose eyes are closed." "Look at it, bent like a calf for the butcher." "The drove is a terrible mistress." "Wishes and words sprout from the same seed." being lied to: "It's a tangle of asps." "Those lips bleed a putrid poison." "Sealed with the kiss of swine." "Rat tails, cat tails, coat tails, all tales." "A trick with two tongues." "A dark light from your death." "Hemlock for the deceivers." "It casts a crooked shadow." "It has two mouths to lick from." quest: "It's not fair! I wanted to." "Pennies for your eyes in its pockets." "Why is it troubled?" interacting with a (  future  ) threat: "Ask about the free arsenic." "Blood brings the vicious beast." "I see daggers hang on his breath." "The very thought falls to the flame."