#rich wife vibes hehe

[divinitygirl]

Inshallah 🤍

[snazzi-strawberri-artz]

YEAHHH OC DESIGNS BABEY!!!!! OK SO LIKE THESE PPL ARE LIKE THE MAGIC COUNCIL AND ITS THEIR JOB TO GUIDE AND PROTECT THEIR PEOPLE YAYAY!!!!

(NOTE: I DID NOT MAKE KAZEMIS PATTERN I FOUND IT HERE)

Character lore and ramblings below!!

ARKENAS MY BELOVED!!! Hes Filipino because i said so JKSDHDS

Hes wearing a zoot suit which is a suit originated from african americans and would become popular with italians, filipinos, mexicans etc AND LIKE ITS PERFFECT FOR ARKENAS Because this type of suits were typically worn by performers due to how its easy to move around in AND HE himself is a performer as hes a very well known magician and illusionist!

Hes more of a sillay guy always looking to entertain people, but his magical performances got so good that people were struggling discerning what was real or not, enough that he was was given the title of master!

He always tries to befriend Magnus but always kinda fails at it JKHDHSD

Magnus!!! He wasnt always so serious and brooding, in fact, he was a slick playboy back in the days. But because of uhhh many plotlines and backstory that will take too long to explain hes always feels sad and empty despite not knowing why...😲

IMOGEN MY BELOVED!!! She comes from Ireland!!

Shes known for her experimental ways of doing Alchemy, for not sticking to rules and regulations and doing whatever she wants, and in that way she had become the embodiment of alchemy in a way it is all about risky experimentation and she goes through with it because she likes the thrill!!

Because of this she had done many contributions to the field of Alchemy, despite being deemed "unproffesional" by others

She also likes to do flirty teasing with Valentina because she thinks its cute how she reacts and crumbles HEHE

VALENTINA!!!!! ONE OF MY FAV DESIGNS IVE EVER MADE🥺 Im so happy with the way she looks!! She was initially gonna be the master of ALL the elements, but because her design turned out too look more Earthy and Firey, i only made her master of that!

She has like rich posh aristocracy vibes and owns various fashion businesses while also doing her duties as a magicia master! 🙏 SLAY

As for her design i really wanted to give of posh businesswoman whos also fashionable!

Lowkey has a crush on Imogen but is in denial <3 Valentina is also besties with Kazemi and they like to gossip all the drama over tea <3

KAZEMI MY WIFE MY EVERYTHING I LOVE YOUUUUU AUGH Shes also one of my fav designs along with Valentina!! Shes also from Japan >:]

Ive actually done quite abit of research on her name AND KAZEMI IS LITERALLLY THE MOST PERFECT NAME BECAUSE IT MEANS WATER OR WIND WHICH IS WHERE SHES MASTER AT...,, AND TOMIKAWA MEANS RICHES AND ALSO RIVER OR STREAM AND LIKE IT RELATES TO HER BECAUSE SHES WORKED SO HARD TO GET TO HER POSITION AS SHE ALWAYS KNEW SHE WAS DESTINED FOR PROSPERITY AND WEALTH RAAAA but if anyone like actually knows more abt japanese names and thinks that the name could be improved PLEASE DONT HESITATE TO DM 🙏

But yes due to how she more on the polite and demure side and her magic being water and wind, shes more underestimated and seen as more 'weak' than the others. But just how the seas can be gentle and also be a terrifying, great force, she can be too 🥺

Shes trying to court Samara btw 🥺 she relates to Samara in a way where their magic is underestimated due to how it looks "harmless", but both actually having the ability to do great harm if you know how to do it. Shes seen that Samara can do harm and damage if she wanted to, and she was like 'i want her" JKSDHJSHD

SAMARA!!! 🥺 Shes more of the precise, rational, proffesional type! Always wanting everything to be clean and pristine, thats why she mainly wears white. Shes also Arabic :D

Shes known as one of the greatest healers in the world, known for her quickness and precision, basically knows every body part and muscle and veins and how to heal it as well as how to damage it!! ^-^

As for her veil type i used a niqab! Well a half niqab specifically, as it doesnt cover the entire half of the body. Their design is influenced by Arabic fashion as well as like nurse doctor outfits in the 1900s :D

Figuring out her name was a bit tricky because im not familiar with Arabic names and i also didnt want to go to babynames.com for it because i know its a bit more complicated but i managed to get help from friends who are more qualified n knowledgable about arabic names😭 THANK YOU @lastcookieontheplate MY DEAR FRIEND

AND AND she doesnt want to admit it but she gets flustered and blushy whenever Kazemi does her courting attempts <3 HEEHEE

ANYWAYS THATS ALL OF EM!!!!! Say "BERRI IS SO PRETTY AND COOL" If youve reached this far!

[lowkeyclowning]

Songs that make me think of specific slashers

This is just a dumb little thing where I threw my hcs of songs that they may be into or just songs I think of them with <3

Chromeskull (Jesse Cromeans)

• Money, Money, Money - Abba (he is a rich man)

• Suit & Tie -Justin Timberlake (he wears that black dress that I like 😏 bro is always in a suit, not a tie, but whatever the song is good)

• Unholy -Sam Smith (I imagine it like this, “mommy” is his pregnant wife from the 2nd film or whatever reader/yn that doesn’t know ab his job, and “daddy” being him, the soon to be father, going out doing unholy things (murder, snuff, etc 👍)

• Hey Rich Boy -Millionaires (hey hey rich boy look my way! Hey hey rich boy make my day 😏. I am a simple person)

• Telephone -Lady Gaga, Beyoncé (he uses his phone to talk and stuff, and sometimes he should stfu 🙄🙏)

• Cemetery Girl -Insane Clown Posse (I don’t think this one needs an explanation)

• Girls on Film -Duran Duran (yea those girls really are on film)

• March Of The Pigs -Nine Inch Nails (he likes to call his victims pigs or piggies)

• Jessie’s Girl -Rick Springfield (his name is Jesse)

• Promiscuous -Nelly Furtado, Timbaland (…. Umm.. anyway moving on)

• Sugar Daddy -Qveen Herby (hehe)

• Violent Pornography -System Of A Down (it sure is)

• In My Room -Insane Clown Posse (I have bias because I love the song)

• Custer -Slipknot (WOOO)

• Hoes Come Easy -RJMrLA (bastard)

• No Scrubs -TLC (not a scrub)

• Bills, Bills, Bills -Destiny’s Child (there is a pattern)

• Tag, You’re It -Melanie Martinez (he picks targets)

• Piggy Pie -Insane Clown Posse (yep)

• Little Piggy -Rob Zombie

• Hammer Smashed Face -Cannibal Corpse (with love)

• Fucked With A Knife -Cannibal Corpse

I see Jesse not listening to music frequently if at all, but if he did,, man it’d probably be something like death metal or heavy metal. Some kind of metal.

The Collector (Asa Emory)

• Spookshow Baby -Rob Zombie (he’s a killer, he’s a thriller, spookshow baby 😏)

• Chop Suey -System Of A Down (his father forsook him)

• The Chain -Fleetwood Mac (saw it in an edit once and it stuck)

• Haunt You -Pack a.d. (it plays at the end of The Collection)

• Dead Body Man -Insane Clown Posse (i think he deserves to be called the dead body man)

• Dead Bodies Everywhere -Korn (there are as the title says)

• Eyeless -Slipknot (I love slipknot so much)

• Mr. Self Destruct -Nine Inch Nails (vibes)

• Headless -Deftones (once again vibes)

• Spiders -Slipknot (self explanatory)

• The Collector -Nine Inch Nails

• The Bug Collector -Haley Heynderickx (OKAY. I know this one is a lot softer n out of place but dude I’m just thinking about how gentle he is with spiders despite who he is. I’d fold so hard if I saw that)

• Duality -Slipknot (I PUSH MY FINGERS INTO MY EEEEYYYYYEEESSSSSS ITS THE ONLY THING THAT SLOWLY STOPS THE AAAAACCHHHEEEE)

• From The Pinnacle To The Pit -Ghost (real)

• Custer -Slipknot (pt2 WOOO)

• Hungry Like the Wolf -Duran Duran

• Hotel California -Eagles (you will never leave his hotel)

• Drain You -Nirvana

• Zombie -The Cranberries (he makes zombies in his basement)

• Dollhouse -Melanie Martinez (the “favorite” in his collection being dressed up almost like a doll with the dress and the makeup, plus he lives two lives)

• The Hand That Feeds -Nine Inch Nails

• Demonoid Phenomenon - Rob Zombie (jumpscare)

• Bumblebees Are Out -Jack Stauber (makes me think of lil baby Asa)

Just like Chromeskull I can’t imagine him listening to music frequently, or at all, but I can see him enjoying the occasional news station

Bo Sinclair

• Numb -Linkin Park (he got issues)

• Aneurysm -Nirvana (Issues pt 2)

• Country Song -Seether (I thought this was what he was playing on his radio, it’s not, but it still fits)

• Closer -Nine Inch Nails (freak)

• Bodies -Drowning Pool

• Sex Type Thing -Stone Temple Pilots (he acts like a hoe)

• Animals -Nickelback (once again, hoe)

• Tear You Apart -She Wants Revenge (freak 2)

• Foxy, Foxy -Rob Zombie

• The Negative One -Slipknot (he is the negative twin)

• In Bloom -Nirvana (He likes to shoot his guns)

• Scotty Doesn’t Know -Lustra (lol)

• Offended -Eminem (a bitch)

• The Burden -Slipknot

• One Step Closer -Linkin Park

• She Keeps Me Up -Nickelback

• Mockingbird -Eminem (Crying my eyes out to this song, but I see it as him having to be the parent to his brothers and shit bro I’m bawling)

Overall this dude in canon listens to rock, so pretty much I’m throwing dad rock and metal at him

Candyman (Daniel Robitaille)

• Hit the Road Jack -Ray Charles (some people don’t wanna be victims)

• Somebody’s Watching Me -Rockwell (always lingering)

• Killing Me Softly With His Song -Fugees (persuasive in talking people into being his victim)

• Candyman -Christina Aguilera (everything in this song is true)

• Heaven Can Wait -Michael Jackson (it can and will)

• So Anxious -Ginuwine (I know I’m anxious)

• Sextape -Deftones

• Mary On A Cross -Ghost (song about sex in a romantic sounding way)

• Change -Deftones (yea)

• Aces -dkj

• Hey Lover -The Daughters Of Eve (Romantic)

• Sex with a Ghost -Teddy Hyde (literally a ghost)

• Talk To Me -Porcelain Raft (Even though I think about the Collector with this song too, because I got it from the movie, it fits Candyman better)

• There Is a Light That Never Goes Out -The Smiths (<3)

• Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now -The Smiths (pls let him rest with the love of his life)

If he could still listen to music he def likes romantic stuff, Jazz, maybe the classics n r&b. He was very happy when he was alive, I can imagine him tapping his foot and dancing with his lover in a kitchen

If I think of any more slashers I wanna do and I have the motivation I might make a pt 2

Anyway ty for reading <3

[brunchable]

Witch's Revenge (Halloween Special Oneshot) || S. Strange x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3.3K

Warning: Dark Themes, Violence and Gore, Witch Burning at a stake, Cheating, temptation by the devil.

A/N: I dunno who wants to be tagged or not so I just tagged the people who I see in my notifs often hehe. Shout-out to Shakespeare for giving Lady Macbeth killer lines which I used in this story. This is heavily inspired by The Crucible as well.

tags: @goldencherriess @gaitwae @classicrebound @gwephen @thealleydog @lucimorningst4r @allie131313 @dragonqueen89 @xunquish-blog @d0ct0rstrangewife @pinkplayer14 @ironstrange1991 @mirikusashes

Fair is foul and foul is fair. These were the words chanted by the three witches in Shakespeare's Macbeth. There are many interpretations, but for this story, it means; what is good can turn bad, and what is bad is actually good.

Stephen drove the streets of St. Lucia, trying not to jump every time the lightning flashed and thunder clapped overhead. There it was. He saw it when the last bolt jittered through the grey-black clouds that looked like roiling smoke.

The locally-owned burger joint seemed out of place among the downtown buildings that towered above it. The orange neon sign blinked a single name on and off through the pouring rain, “Mike’s Burgers”

He had passed a dozen other restaurants that served burgers while he searched for this place. Why was he suddenly so obsessed with finding it?

The online advertisement claimed Mike’s served award-winning burgers. Stephen was on this errand to get dinner for himself and his wife, she was waiting for him in the hotel room, tummy growling.

Jangling bells made it sound like Christmas when he opened the door and entered. Not much to it. Just an area for customers to stand while waiting for their orders. Pictures covered the walls, mostly of the rich and famous who had just enjoyed Mike’s burgers. Tonight You Belong To Me by Patience and Prudence was playing at the jukebox at the corner of the shop, giving the place an eerie vibe.

There was no one at the counter to accept his order, so he stepped forwards to see if he could attract their attention from the back. From the kitchen emerged a woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, with black hair, and she moved up to the counter in front of him. Her dark deep-set eyes were all he saw.

When Stephen walked in, he wasn't sure whether he should place an order or wait for someone more kind to greet him. She did not seem to be smiling, and he saw that her eyes did not flicker.

“My name is (Y/N),” you nearly whispered.

“Hi, (Y/N), I, um…”

“I'll be happy to take your life.”

“What?” Stephen stepped back. “What did you say?”

“I said, I'll be happy to take your order?” you held up a pad of paper and pencil for him to see.

“No, no, that isn't what you said.”

You continued not blinking or even smile.

“Okay, okay." Stephen tore his eyes away from you and looked at the menu posted on the wall. "I’ll take two of the double cheeseburger meals with fries and coke for the drinks please.”

“I’m going to murder you in fifteen minutes.”

“Wha—? Look, young lady,” he pointed his finger at you, but stopped short. The tip of a butcher knife appeared from below the top edge of the counter.

“Sir,” you said, “all I said was that I'll have your order ready in fifteen minutes.”

Stephen turned to leave when a man stepped out of the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. I was out back chasing the varmints away from the garbage cans. It’s a constant battle. I’m Mike. Can I take your order?”

“Who is she?” Stephen was sweating, his breath coming in short gulps.

“Who are you talking about, mister?”

Stephen charged the counter and slammed his fist down on it. “You know who I’m talking about. The woman who just took my order while she threatened to murder me with a butcher knife.”

“There’s no woman here, sir, just me. I run the place on my own.”

“But she was right there where you are standing now, and she threatened to kill me in fifteen minutes.” Stephen rubbed his temples. “She said her name was (Y/N).”

Mike grabbed Stephen by the front of his raincoat and pulled him against the counter. “Look, buddy. I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t funny. What (Y/N) did to the rest of our family was horrible, but she’s a sick girl. It wasn’t her fault.” He pushed Stephen away. “Now get out.”

“What did she do?” Stephen approached the counter again. “Where is she now?”

“What she did was in all the papers and on the news. Where she is now is none of your business.”

“I'm sorry, but I’m not from St Lucia. I never heard about what your daughter did.”

Mike rounded the end of the counter and joined Stephen on the other side. He walked up to the wall of portraits and indicated a certain one. It was a picture of the guy and the female Stephen had seen across the counter. Those were the eyes he would never forget.

“That’s me and my daughter just a few weeks before—a few weeks before she murdered my wife, son and another daughter. The state has custody of her now. They put her in a place for people who are…”

“Insane?” said Stephen.

“Yes, but she isn’t simply insane.” Mike turned to look Stephen in the eye. “She is gifted. She can do things with her mind.”

“What kinds of things?”

“She once caused a dog to stop walking like it was instantly frozen. The dog whined, but it couldn’t move."

"Did she ever use her gift on people?”

“It was a family secret. If she used it on people, she never talked about it.” Mike looked at his shoes for a moment as though he were making up his mind about something. “On my wife’s side of the family, back in England in the 1600s, there was apparently a witch who put a curse on the land and those you lived in it. The townsfolk burned her. We think she’s chosen our daughter to get revenge.”

Mike went back around the counter. “Sorry, I practically pulled you out of your shoes a few minutes ago.”

“It’s okay. I think I understand now.” Stephen lied, but thought of everything as horse-shit. Witches? Where are they? In Salem?

“Well Mister, it looks like you’ve got about five minutes to live. You’d better be on your way unless you want to order.”

“I told you. I already ordered.” Stephen stepped out into the storm, got in his car, and left the madness behind him.

Approximately five minutes later, when he was stopped at a traffic light, he heard something moving in the back seat of the car. He cast a quick peek in the direction of the rearview mirror. Your black eyes without a grin met his, and the point of the butcher knife glinted like lightning as it came into contact with his skin. The light changed to green, but Stephen couldn't get his car to move forward at all. Drivers behind him honked their horns and drove around him.

Stephen sat, holding the wheel, unable to move. “(Y/N), I understand you want revenge. But why me?”

“I wish you could remember.” Cold metal touched his throat. “You were the man back in England who lit the fire beneath me.”

“That's crazy. You're a young woman, and I'm a working man whose wife is waiting for me to bring her dinner."

"A wife? Are you faithful?"

"What are you going to do to me, (Y/N)?"

“You will burn at my hand like I did at yours.” The car shook from a muffled explosion under the hood. Smoke rolled out and rose toward the black-grey clouds. You laughed a hysterical sinister laugh. Flames reached into the passenger compartment like orange and red fingers.

When Stephen felt the fire beginning to close up on him, two different thoughts went through his head at the same time. The first thing that sprang to mind was the night, many centuries prior in England when he put a torch over a pile of timber and heard a woman scream.

He recalled the terrible stench that remained throughout the central part of the town, seeping into every crevice and every crack and colouring them with the awful odour. The screams reverberated off of the stone walls, and they could be heard in each and every passageway and alleyway. Screams of the condemned that were once cries for help, a chanting that covered the horrible noise, making it dull and voiceless.

Second, he realized the reason why she was screaming.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

400 years ago, Peddle Lancashire, England.

"Stephen?" You called out your husband's name. You heard a muted commotion coming from the door. As you swung open the door, a naked woman holding your bedsheet ran past you. You laid eyes on your husband looking dishevelled. With your hand over your mouth, you ran out of the house.

"I will go to the church, and tell the priest." you thought. Before you even got halfway you saw him running after you with only pants on.

"Witch! My wife is a witch!" he shouted. The shock made you stumble. Was his plan is to accuse you of witchcraft so that you are killed? If you were dead, you wouldn't be able to tell anyone that your husband slept with another woman.

"If I could make it to the church in time, I will be able to explain what happened-"

Air left your chest as you were knocked to the ground by your cheating husband, your dress now wet with mud. You snapped your head back up at him, there was no taking those words back now. The Sheriffs who heard the commotion immediately ran towards you, grabbing you by the arm.

“No! He lies! I know nothing about witchcraft!” You them off as they dragged you away, to take you to jail, “Stephen! Help me—You know I would never do such a thing!” 

Stephen swallowed hard, unable to speak. He looked as though he didn’t know what was going to happen next. He was muted by his own actions while the town watched in shock. They knew that you never missed a sunday mass, a bible study, you donate generously to help the church and help the strays. You helped the community by assisting your husband visit the sick, you go into the forest to collect the herbs for their teas. 

“Sir?” The sheriff of the town tried to grab Stephen’s attention, giving him the chance to speak up for you but he only shook his head. If he confessed then he would lose his credibility, as a healer, “Very well. You need to come with us, (Y/N).” 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

There were trials to determine whether or not a person was a witch; but, since people were afraid they would die if they participated in the trials, the mayor devised an alternative technique; By making a notice that described the situation and adding points to identify witches, people could hand witches over to be dealt with. And of course there would be a reward for the townspeople's help, with this in mind he made a notice to be seen the next day.

The next morning after everyone in town saw that notice, people were glaring at each other, no one was smiling. You remember seeing a crowd at the bulletin board and going to see what the fuss was about. It was a notice on witches with a fine reward if you found one and handed it in to the sheriff. There was a list of things a witch would do or would show traits of, these were:

- Animals, mainly cats, love them

- They float if thrown in water

- Practice witchcraft by spending most of their time in the forest

What happened next, no-one was ready for. One month after the notice had been put up, there were 17 women in jail, all accused of being a witch.

You were tossed roughly into a wet, cold cell where stone walls were fractured in parts, providing ideal nesting grounds for the insects that had already claimed it, blocking out any sunlight from outside. You had dozens of ideas racing through your head, but as soon as the mayor entered the cell, they all vanished.

"Well I never thought that you would be a witch," he said, but you did not reply. He frowned, "Not talking, oh well, I only came to inform you that your trial will be held in five days, till then rest well." 

He turned and made his way out, you began to panic, internal screams filled your very soul, but still you did not speak, what was there to say? You broke down, weeping and curled into a ball, you would die like all the rest, no one would stand up for you and your husband made that clear. 

After doing so much for this community, you were now treated the lowest of the low. Given nothing but leftover bread and cheese for dinner, no breakfast or lunch; sometimes nothing at all. No warm blanket or a pillow under your head. You prayed every night for a miracle but what came for you, you did not expect.

“Cruel isn't it? You pray and pray and pray but no one answers. . . yours is by far the loudest one, hence why I came to answer your desires.” A voice and a pair of glowing beady eyes came from the darkest corner of the cell. 

You weakly pulled yourself up, “H-how did you get in here?”

“You have something that I want.”

“W-who are you?” 

“I go by many names, Samael, Lucifer. . . Satan.” A tall shadow stands and you begin to get this heavy feeling in your chest.

“Get away from me!” You yell out and begin reciting prayers but the devil only laughs. 

“It’s truly sad that this is how they repay you for your undying service, isn't it? How your husband broke the holiest of vows but isn’t getting punished for it. He should be the one here, not you.”

“I will not be tempted by you! Leave!”

It laughs once more, “Your husband will come and visit you—Call upon me and I will answer.” The large shadow vanishes when the sheriff knocks on the cell bars, telling you to shut up. 

Two days later you heard the sheriff let someone in, it was your husband. He stood in front of your cell, crouching down, “I’m so sorry—I wasn’t thinking straight. I-I didn’t want you to ruin our marriage by—”

“Me? Ruin our marriage?” You laughed, leaning your head back against the stone wall, “That is gold coming from you, husband.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Finally, you turn your head to take a good look at him before crawling with what's left of your energy to plead with him to get you out, “Then convince them that your good wife is innocent! I promise I won't speak a word of what I saw. We can even leave town, start a new life, every town is in need of a healer.”

Your husband looks down and no words leave his mouth. You come to a realisation then that he would sacrifice you, rather than his occupation and his image. You dropped your hands and moved back to your corner.

“Get out.”

“(Y/N)—”

“GET OUT!” 

He rose up and looked at you with pity, “May the gods have mercy on your soul.”

It seemed like years to you, even though the days passed as quickly as a baby sparrow would leave its nest. Your cell was unlocked and you were hauled out, indicating that it was time for your trial. After being placed in a wooden cart, one could easily get the sensation of travelling and halting. The other women in the cart were either crying or praying though they knew their prayers won’t be answered.

Men set you up on an oak log and fastened your hands behind the pole they used to prop you up. You fiddled and writhed, but you couldn't get the knots free. People started piling up in front of you, some of whom you recognised. They were shocked to find you standing on the execution platform with your face to the audience and tears streaming down your face. You just remained there, attempting to accept your destiny, knowing there was no way out. Your expression blanked out as wrath seethed and consumed you.

A man's voice rang over the crowd, "This woman has been found guilty of being a witch, she spends most of her time in the forest, strays linger around her, even accusing her good husband of breaking his holy vows to her, any objections to this claim step forward now."

Your eyes darted around the faces in the crowd, silent begs for help, they knew you, they knew you helped them, so why did they not speak up. 

"No objections, then let the execution begin." The sheriff handed your husband the torch and he allowed those flames to touch the hay. Flames of hell began to rise, happy to engulf another victim with no mercy. Your toes begin to warm, that sensation changes to a burn, as if you were sitting too close to a fireplace. You began to scream and yell, yelling bloody mercy to the sky around you as the robes of flame enveloped your body. At this execution everyone was silent. 

From the distance you saw a tall hooded figure, its beady eyes staring right into your soul and you called upon it.

"Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood, stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between the effect and it! Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell—" You yelled curses towards those in the crowd for turning away, for your husband who began the fire, and for accusing you. Even though you were in excruciating agony, you persisted in calling upon the devil; if becoming a witch is what they desire, then a witch you will be.

"Keep my raging spirit here in these lands eternally. Make me an infection that spreads through the descendants of those who turned their backs on innocent women." You were no longer able to think since the dense smoke had clouded your thoughts, and your skin was peeling and melting away. Your blood boiling and bones cracking, shattering, it would all be over soon, you would be at rest soon. Your last movement was to lock eyes with your conniving husband.

"Fair is foul and foul is fair. I don't deserve this—I will be the cause of your thousand painful deaths."

Burning flesh replaced the smell of the muddy town, and tasted bitter on their tongues, but finally, the screams fell silent. It would take three hours until the flames died, leaving your unrecognisable charred remains at the centre of the town.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

As Stephen made his way back to consciousness, he was still lying in a hospital bed with burns of the third degree covering both of his arms. His hands were his most valuable asset, but they were destroyed in the incident. The recollections of what seemed to be his previous life are made much more difficult to forget as a result of this.

Your appearance appears in his sleep dreams night after night. The cackle of the flames, watching you burn, and listening to your cries for help. On occasion, he is the one who is rousing himself out of sleep with his screams.

"Doctor Strange?" The nurse makes many attempts to get his attention. When he turns around, he sees a monstrosity with only half a face; her cheeks seem as if they are melting off like wax, and her skin is red and riddled with blisters. Stephen squeezes his eyes tight as his heart pounds wildly within his chest and he takes a few deep breaths.

"N-Nothing. I just—" He cuts himself off when her hysterical high-pitched laugh begins echoing inside his room.

"Can't handle a little burn, can you?" She tilts her head, her voice becoming disembodied to different pitches, "Good."

[chilling-seavey]

hey:) since Halloween is over I'm in a Christmas mood so what if you did a Christmas themed blurb for season's change? 💛💛

↳  A/N I love us folk who turn Christmasy the second November 1 rolls around hehe. Why not start the Christmas vibes now huh? Thank you soo much for this dearest! 💛🌼

↳ Word Count: 1697

↳ Seasons Change Masterlist

December 25, 2015

There was no better joy than Christmas to a child. To two-and-a-half year old Lennox, it was a day that he hardly remembered from his previous two years but one that came with so much excitement and winter magic that it was hard not to look forward to what it held in store.

He had helped his mother lay out homemade cookies and a glass of fresh farm milk on the coffee table in the living room, paired nicely on a festive red and green plate beside the large Christmas tree. The multi-coloured lights of the Christmas tree had always been Lennox’s favourite thing ever since he was a baby and Marigold’s love of colours outshone the suggestion of aesthetics that many other young couples focused their decorations around. No, the Seavey’s had the most chaotic yet most beautiful Christmas tree in all of Lincoln and they swore in all of Connecticut too.

The family of three stayed up a little late on Christmas Eve in front of the fire – Sidney curled up on his bed right in front of the fireplace – and they curled up under the living room blanket to read The Polar Express. Lennox was squished between his parents, cuddled up against his mother with his little hand wrapped around his father’s thumb, and sucked sweetly on his red pacifier as he stared at the rich paintings that filled each page of the storybook. Marigold’s soft voice read each word so beautifully and even Daniel was catching himself starting to doze off right there on the couch.

Lennox was tucked into his single bed upstairs after one last Christmas cuddle with Daniel who had insisted on rocking him in his arms for just a little bit. The sleepy toddler didn’t put up a fight. He was kissed by each of his parents and his mother made sure he was nice and warm in bed before they left their little boy to sleep and wait for Santa to arrive.

At sunrise – barely sunrise – the toddler was wide awake. He was greeted with fresh fallen snow across the farmland and an excitement in his chest that he knew that day was a special one. In his little candy cane patterned footie pyjamas, Lennox hurried out of bed and ran down the hallway into the adjacent room where his parents slept. He hoisted himself up onto the queen size bed, clambering over Daniel and thus waking him up incredibly ungracefully in the process, and sat himself on his mother’s stomach.

“Morning, Mama.” Lennox said sweetly.

Daniel – who had just been rudely awoken by his toddler’s knee in his stomach and elbow in his throat – rolled over with a soft groan to greet his wife with a kiss, “Merry Christmas, Sunshine.”

“Good morning, my handsome boys.” Marigold gushed with a smile, not even a hint of tiredness in her voice like the morning person she always had been. “Merry Christmas.”

Lennox grinned as she tickled his tummy.

“I think Santa’s been here.” Marigold said.

Daniel hummed in agreement, “Yeah…I think I heard some reindeer on our roof last night.”

Lennox looked up to the vaulted ceiling of the master bedroom in near awe before looking back to his parents. It was childlike wonder that lingered in his eyes that made Daniel and Marigold feel so warm.

“We should go see if Santa left you presents, Spud.” Daniel suggested.

“After Mama goes pee.” Marigold added.

The toddler only giggled and let her shift him off of her stomach and onto the bed in her place as she got up and excused herself to the ensuite around the corner.

Daniel leaned on his side, resting his cheek in his hand to focus on his son, “Think you were a good boy this year? Or were you naughty and Santa left you coal in your stocking?”

“I good, Dada.” Lennox assured him with a dimpled smile just like his mother’s.

“Think so?” Daniel leaned in to pepper kisses to his cheek to make the toddler squeal with laughter, “Hmm…I dunno…”

When Marigold returned, the little family headed downstairs with Lennox leading the way one stair at a time. When he reached the main floor, he took off down the hallway towards the living room just as Marigold switched on the video camera.

“What’s in the living room, Lennox?” she called after him as the parents rounded the corner just behind him.

“Presents!” Lennox squealed with excitement as he rushed over to the Christmas tree that towered over a hefty supply of festively wrapped gifts and a brand new train set that wrapped around it and under the coffee table. The poor kid didn’t know where to go first, rushing between the train and the wrapped gifts and his overflowing stocking hung on the mantle to the empty glass of milk and plate of cookies. It was honestly humourous watching him try to look at everything and their puppy bounded after his every move just as excitedly.

“Looks like you were right, Spud! You were on Santa’s nice list this year!” Daniel said.

“Yeah!” Lennox answered distractedly as he crouched down beside the train track – the one that Daniel had spent far too long at midnight trying to build in an entertaining formation – and pushed the locomotive along the path.

“Look, Spud,” Daniel stepped into the living room too and Marigold got both of them on camera as he knelt down beside the coffee table, “your cookies and milk are all gone!”

Lennox glanced up at him with wondered wide eyes, peering back at the empty plate donned only in crumbs.

“And Daddy didn’t eat them. Mommy made sure.” Marigold teased from behind the camera, earning a cheeky little knowing smile from her husband that Lennox wouldn’t catch until he re-watched the home videos as a teenager.

They let Lennox pick what he wanted to start with and after fifteen entire minutes of exploring the train set, Marigold offered the stockings to get things started. So Daniel turned the video camera back on and sat on the floor as Lennox plopped himself in Marigold’s lap in front of the Christmas tree with his stocking in front of them. She helped him empty it from each pair of socks to each festive chocolate to each little toy truck.

They paused after the stocking so Daniel could brew some coffee and feed the cat and dog and Marigold brought Lennox a sippy cup of milk as he played with his few toys. She turned on the CD player in the living room to play a soft stream of instrumental Christmas music as the sun rose over the snow covered town and the morning moved on slowly.

Lennox took turns politely, switching between parent’s laps as the other would open their stocking. He paid close attention, wanting to share in the new gifts that his mother and father had each received from Santa and he offered his own little babbling commentary of each item.

Finally, when Daniel had finished with his stocking, Marigold picked Lennox up from her lap to place on his, “Okay, now we have a special present for our little star.”

Lennox watched with wide eyes as his mother bent down beside the Christmas tree and shuffled through the few unwrapped boxes to find what she was looking for. When she pulled out a silver sparkly box, the little boy’s smile only grew and he held out his hands as she passed it to him.

Marigold placed herself across from them and started the video camera once more, making sure her two favourite boys were easily in frame as well as the side of their Christmas tree.

Daniel was bent down so his head was right beside Lennox’s and he pointed to the little snowman label on the corner of the box as read Marigold’s handwriting, “To our little star. Love Mommy and Daddy.”

“Open please.” Lennox tapped his hands on top of the box.

“Okay, okay.” Daniel chuckled as turned the box around so the opening in the wrapping paper was facing up, “Rip.”

Lennox found his glee in the sound and satisfaction of ripping the wrapping paper and soon he was grabbing two handfuls and yanking as hard as he could to open his present faster. His parents cheered for him sweetly and Daniel helped get the pieces of tape off where needed, his smile just as excited as his son’s for this.

Finally, the gift was unwrapped and Lennox and Daniel held the new box of ice skates together.

“You know what these are, Spud?” Daniel asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. It just made Marigold smile from behind the camera.

“Skate!” Lennox answered, scratching his fingers over the image on the box.

“Yeah! Good boy.” Daniel praised as he opened the top flap and lifted out the little black hockey skates, “These are real skates; not like the little baby ones you always had. These are so you can skate all on your own.”

Lennox blinked down at the shiny black skates and their clean white blade guards but they didn’t mean much to him at that age. Instead, he pushed Daniel’s hands aside to get up from his lap and went to fish another present from under the tree.

“Hey,” Marigold zoomed in on Daniel’s face and he turned to look at her with a hesitant expression, “he’s gonna love them one day.”

Daniel only offered her a half smile and looked back to their toddler already trying to rip open another gift.

“Lennox Blake.” Marigold called, panning the camera over to follow Daniel’s gaze.

The toddler looked over at her in the sweet surprise that mirrored her own expression when Daniel would call her name.

“Are you going to go skating with Daddy later? Wear your shiny new skates?”

“Yeah.” Lennox answered passively.

“Daddy’s gonna show you how to play hockey now…like we watch on TV, right?”

“‘Kay.” Lennox shrugged her off. He lifted up the box he had claimed by the ribbon tied around it and accidentally smacked Daniel in the face with it, ordering loudly, “Open, please, Dada!”

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[ladybugsfanfics]

Blind Date | Tom Hiddleston x reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader | Special cameo over phone by Benedict Cumberbatch and his wife Sophie Hunter

Style: One Shot (might turn into smth more but probably not)

WC: 2885 (finally smth long, amirite?)

Warnings: Some swearing, uhh, don’t think there’s anything else, but if there is please let me know

Summary: Your long time friend has set you up on a Blind Date and says it’s worth a shot because ‘you’re perfect for each other’. You’re having doubts, but with Sophie’s reassuring words, you decide to dive in. 

A/N: Tumblr has no line breaks anymore?? Think I’m late to the realization but like... wtf?! I have done my best, thank god i am creative. Hope you like this :P

If you would like to be tagged in future fics, please let me know. 

“Ben,” you say and put your hand to your forehead, “are you really sure this blind date thing is a good idea?”

A chuckle comes from the other end of the line. “Yes, Y/N, I believe it is. He’s a good friend of mine. Sophie agrees that you two would be perfect for each other.” 

You roll your eyes. “Calming, but I’m still not sure about this.” You sigh, and purse your lips. “Can I talk to Sophie? If she’s there?”

“Of course. One moment.” 

There’s a shift in sound, and a moment later, a soft voice speaks into the phone. “I hear you have some cold feet?” 

You let out a strained laugh. “Cold feet? More like I would really like to know who I’m going on a date with nervousness. I don’t know, Soph, it’s just…” 

“Hey, think about it this way. You get the chance to meet someone new, and whatever happens, you tried? You’ve been single since we met you. It might be time to dip your toes in the water? Just check?”

“You’re probably right,” you say, “I’ll just finish getting ready and walk to that stupid way too fancy resturaunt Ben told me to. Honestly, I hope this guy’s rich.”

Sophie laughs. “You might get a lovely surprise.”

“Oh, fuck off.” 

“Have a nice date. Tell me about it later, ‘kay?” 

“Yeah, of course. Bye. Tell Ben to fuck off too for me, yeah?” You shake your head, hear her little ‘will do, bye’ and hang up. God, what did I agree to, you think and try to push the anxiety down. 

You throw your phone onto the bed and sigh as you raid through your closet for something fancy enough to wear. Honestly, you should’ve gone shopping. 

Standing outside the restaurant, cold air nips your skin. You drag your jacket tighter around you, hating that the agreement was to meet outside the building and not just get to the table right away. The problem: you don’t know whose name the table is reserved under.

After another blast of cold wind, you fish your phone out of your pocket. The time reads 08.03 PM. Three minutes late. And you’ve already been waiting for over ten. “Well, I’m not waiting out here anymore,” you mutter under your breath as you turn to walk through the doors to the restaurant. 

The warm air instantly hits you and you shake of the cold feeling from being outside. You’re greeted by a male, who politely asks for your coat. Taking out belongings of value (phone, keys and wallet), you hand it to him. 

“May I show you to your table, miss?” he asks. 

You bite the inside of your lip. “Uhh, honestly, I’m not certain what name it’s under.” You try for a nervous smile. 

He smiles back. “I’m guessing you’re part of the blind date couple we were ‘discretely’ informed off,” he says. “You’re date hasn’t arrived yet, but I’m sure he’ll be here soon. You want me to show you the table, or would you like to wait?”

“You can show it to me now. That’s fine.”

You type a quick text to Ben telling him to say to your date not to wait outside but just go in right away. As the waiter stops by a table, you get a reply; ‘you got it, dude’ and shake your head with a small smile. 

“Here you go,” the waiter says. “Hope your date shows up soon. You deserve better.” And before he goes back to his post, he winks. 

You shake your head and swallow the lump in your throat. God, I hope he’s here soon. Unfortunately, the waiter didn’t give you a menu, so no read through of that before your date comes. Nor do you really want to make the impression that you’re constantly on your phone by using it when he comes. 

Bored, you look around at the other people there. Most of the tables are for four people. Around most of them sits men and some women in suits, giving you the vibe that they’re all white-collars. It makes you slightly uncomfortable to think that the restaurant is more a business-meeting place than a date place. But maybe that’s just a feeling more than a fact. 

You turn your head in the direction of the entrance and release your breath in relief seeing the waiter coming in your direction, followed by a tall male in a blue suit. From your viewpoint, it’s hard to see exactly how he looks, but within a minute he’ll be by the table and you’ll know. Anway, that isn’t what matters―you try to tell yourself. 

“Here you go,” the waiter says to your date and smiles. He hands you a menu each. You accept yours with a small ‘thank you’. As he leaves, you get up to greet your date. 

“Hi,” you say and hold out your hand, “I’m Y/N.” 

He takes your hand in his, blue eyes smile warmly as he says, “Nice to meet you. I’m Tom. Shall we sit?” His voice a low hum with an accent. 

You nod and sit back down. 

You date wears a navy blue and striped suit that fits like it’s tailored. He wears a light blue shirt underneath and a navy tie. When he takes off his suit jacket, you can see that his shirt also fits like it’s tailored― and to be quite honest, it’s a pretty good view. It feels a little unfair. In addition to a nice body, you note a strong jawline covered in a five o’ clock shadow, and are those real cheekbones? The small strawberry blonde curls atop his head makes you swallow a lump in your throat, only for it to come back up and make you slightly more nervous than you already were. 

Looking at him makes you feel inadequate. You had decided to go fancy-casual; a long black skirt with leg slits on both sides and a black tight-fitting long sleeved crop top that accentuates your boobs. Despite feeling good in the clothes, you can’t help but feel underdressed. Tom is definitely out of your league, and he looks somewhat familiar. 

You both scan the menu. No one says anything until the waiter comes to take your order. Taking away the menus opens up the need for conversation. Only, how do you start one? 

“How do you know Benedict?” asks Tom.

You answer, relieved that you didn’t have to come up with a topic yourself. “I wrote a short story, made it into a script that I sent to a theatre here in London, and they liked it. Ben was cast as the lead role, and Sophie was actually the director. I worked with them for a pretty long time and we kept in touch.” You smile at the fond memory. “What about you?”

“Oh, we met in 2010 whilst shooting a movie. And we have been friends ever since.” Tom smiles. “We actually live very close to each other, here in London.”

“Really? It amazes me that if you are such good friends that he hasn’t mentioned you,” you say with a little joking-tone. “And apparently I haven’t seen that movie.”

Tom smiles. “He hasn’t mentioned you either, not by name at least. But you’re a writer?” 

You nod. “Yeah, mostly short stories, but I’m trying to get a novel finished. I write some scripts too, for fun, mostly, but I prefer the rather classical storytelling with a narrator and all the other stuff.” You add a joking laugh to the end of the sentence. 

Tom smiles. “Hehe. To be honest, I do that, too.” Tom lets out a laugh. “Though, I do read a lot of scripts and I find them to be highly entertaining usually.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I do too. I am one of those that sits in front of netflix a little too much,” you admit. “But I always find time to read. It’s the one thing that’s always been there, you know?” 

You continue to talk about books, and reading, and writing, and acting. Never before have you been on a date where the conversation flows as easily. Even with the food there, the conversation keeps going. You talk mostly about the outer layer stuff―work, small childhood memories, friends, hobbies. Both of you drink a couple of glasses of wine each. 

“Would you like dessert?” asks Tom as the waiter takes away the empty dishes. 

You give it a thought. “Actually, no. It sounds good, but I’m not tempted.” Tom quirks an eyebrow. “What do you say we pay and go somewhere else?” you ask, hoping your eyes convey the message you want. 

By the way Tom smiles back, you’re pretty sure it did. Not long after, the check is paid (you offered but Tom wouldn’t have it), and the two of you are outside, walking along the streets. 

“This was really nice,” you say after a few too many moments of silence. “I have to admit, when Ben suggested this I was kind of… on edge.”

Tom nods along. “Yes, I did have my doubts. But Benedict told me we were perfect for each other. I only agreed when Sophie vouched.”

You laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I did, too.” You look down at the ground, kicking a little rock and hating that you decided to wear high heels (they’re great, but it kind of hurts in the length). “Do you maybe wanna go somewhere? Park? Lake? Ice cream shop?” 

His hand brushes yours, and you bite your lip. “This is going to sound… blunt. But my place isn’t that far from here if you would like another glass of wine, maybe?” If not for his accent you’d probably hit him (a joke; there was way more in the favor of not hitting him). 

You intertwine your fingers with his, and nod. “I’d like that, yeah.” 

Tom wasn’t lying when he said his place wasn’t far. You walked about three blocks and were in the right neighborhood. Two unfortunate realizations on your part; 1. This is about the same neighborhood as Benedict lives in; 2. This is a rich neighborhood, meaning Tom has money, meaning Tom is not only an actor but a successful one and it starts to bug you a little bit that you can’t place where you’ve seen him before. 

You take a right turn and in a matter of minutes you’re inside his house. Did I shave? Did I…? Am I at…? Your mind races with thoughts on what might happen, what might not happen, and your preparations for the date. To be honest, despite your thoughts going there very much in that moment, sex on the first date was a big no-no in your head. 

Tom takes your coat and hangs it up. Without even giving it a second thought, you take off your shoes, which has Tom let out a light chuckle as he does the same. “You’re one of the few people who does that without me telling them to,” he says. 

“Oh, well. I don’t really see the point in cleaning a house if you’re gonna drag the dirt in with you. What’s the point in vacuuming if it’s dirty thirty seconds later?” You smile up at him. God, he’s really tall. 

“Exactly,” says Tom and smiles. “Would you like that glass of wine?”

You nod. “Could I maybe borrow your bathroom?” He nods and tells you which room it is. With a smile you go in the direction his points in. 

It’s a cozy bathroom. Actually, not bad at all. The shower is quite big and you curse your brain for going straight to what it would be like to have sex in it. Also for ‘it’s big enough’ being your first thought. God, curse that handsome man. God, curse Ben for not telling you about him sooner. Actually, as you check yourself in the mirror (makeup still pretty on point) you take out your phone and send a ‘what the hell is wrong with you?!’ text to Ben, with the follow up; ‘you’ve known him since 2010 and you only now thought to make me go on a date with him?!”

You don’t wait for an answer. Rather you give yourself a smile in the mirror and some encouraging words, and leave with hopes high enough (like maybe a kiss). 

Tom sits in the living room, phone in hand. Two wine glasses are placed on the coffee table. You cough as you sit down, gaining his attention. He smiles up at you and puts away his phone. He hands you a glass as you tuck one leg under your butt. 

Neither of you speak. You take a sip of wine and nod when you do. “This is a really good wine,” you say. 

“Yes, uhh, it’s Italian,” replies Tom. 

What the hell happened to the smooth talk from before? Am I really this nervous? Is he this nervous? Your mind goes away with overthinking. Does he like you? Well, he did invite you into his house. But does that mean he likes you? Maybe you’re just a good conversation partner? But he did offer wine, which does have alcohol, which might be because he wants you a little tipsy, or at least with enough percentage so you would put out? 

You shake of the feeling, not believing someone like Tom could ever take advantage of you. Instead, you take another sip of wine, lean back and smile at him. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?” you ask. That was blunt. 

Tom smiles and laugh this ‘hehe’ laughter that makes your heart skip a beat. He takes a sip of wine and puts down the glass. “You don’t seem to know exactly who I am, but, uhh, I’ve done quite a lot of interviews. Some have me doing things I would rather not remember. I did this silly thing on MTV After Hours With Josh Horowitz. I made up some really silly pranks that made no sense and said loki’d afterwards with this weird laugh and I did this.” Tom puts his hand up to the side of his face and holds it there as if he has a monocle. 

And it hits you. Right in the moment he said ‘loki’d’ and weird laugh. You would like to facepalm. “Oh my God,” you say. “You’re Tom Hiddleston. Oh, my God.” You take a sip of wine to calm down a little. “You’re probably one of the actors I always thought I’d recognize. Loki is my favorite MCU character and I love you in Kong: Skull Island. I am correct that I haven’t seen the film with you and Benedict, but honestly, I have never felt this stupid.” 

He laughs. This godly sound that makes the mistake seem such tiny, but… 

You put down the wine glass and lay your head in your hands. Through them you mumble, “this is my most embarrassing moment. For sure.”

Gentle hands pry yours away from your face, and a slender finger tilts your cheek up so your eyes meet Tom’s. He smiles at you; lips pressed together and wrinkles around his eyes. “That’s okay, Love, really. I enjoyed talking to someone who didn’t know what I had played in. It made some of the stories more fun, kind of.” 

“I should go back to pretending I don’t know, huh?” you ask. 

Tom chuckles. “No, I’m glad you know. It would be weird if you didn’t.” He smiles and cups your face. Your eyes meet. Tom’s are a beautiful shade of blue. Complemented by his blue shirt, they look almost electric. He licks his lips. “You have beautiful eyes,” he whispers.

You press your lips together and smile, feeling the blush creep into your cheeks. At the thought, you notice how close you sit. His face is only an inch from yours. It would be so easy to kiss him, or for him to kiss you. God, it would be so… 

However, is it really a good idea? It is the first date. You only know the basics of each other. Work, a little family and friends, and hobbies. There is more to him, and there is more to you. 

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by his lips on yours. His right hand is still cupping your face, and he places his left on your knee. Taken by surprise, it takes you a moment to react, but as you do you press your lips to his. Something explodes in your gut, and whatever it is makes you shift your position closer to him. Your hands go up and you twine them behind his neck. Tom smiles in the kiss and moves both his hands to the small of your back, pressing you closer to him. 

You break the kiss and smile at him. “That… That was, uhh…”

“Yeah,” Tom says, his voice a little breathless. 

You both let out a little laugh and press your foreheads together. “This has been, uhh, pretty great.” 

Tom smiles and pecks your lips. “Yes, it has. Not what I thought would come from a blind date.” 

You shake your head with a smile. “Yeah. Who would’ve thought?”