#THe Haunting of Ravenwood

[veryslowreader]

The Heart Remembers by Emma Church

A Haunting in Ravenwood

[raiyine]

CHARACTER INTERVIEW: Damien (Man, Fuck This House by Brian Asman)

CHARACTER INTERVIEW: Damien (Man, Fuck This House by Brian Asman)

[deathlooksgoodonyou-if]

It was the summer of 2010 when you found Jules Hawkins by the lake. But it didn't look like Jules Hawkins.

After all, how could it? Jules Hawkins was a god. And as you know, gods like Jules are unbreakable. If you knew anyone death couldn't touch, it was Jules. And yet, somehow it felt like you had never seen Jules look more like them than they did, that day, dead by the lake. Plump cherry lips, now parched and blue, dirt on their perfect knees, golden hair sticking to their forehead, exquisite clothes matted and muddied, skin, ghostly pale.

Even in death, even as Jules became a child of soil and dirt and ruin, Jules managed to look like art. How could this creature of beauty be anyone else but Jules Hawkins?

A string of murders follow the passing of Jules Hawkins and in the desperation of avoiding being tangled in the web of this cold blooded murderer, you end up right in the thick of it when you find out the killer may have set their eyes on you next.

Of course, you ended up in the killer's radar. You had always been a child of misfortune, after all.

• Customise your mc. Choose your appearance. Play as male, female, non-binary or trans; straight, gay or bisexual etc.

• Play as an emotionally scarred individual. Escape the hell you call your mind, alone or with the help of allies. Or succumb to the voices.

• Find your predator before your predator finds you. Or keep running. How far will you run? Do you even want to run?

• Befriend, antagonize, manipulate or romance fellow residents of Ravenwoods.

• Heavily character driven.

• The lake calls out to you. Will you listen?

JULIAN/NE "JULES" HAWKINS. [he/him or she/her] [semi ro]

You knew Jules in the way you wish you never did. Jules is embedded into your very bones. Jules is a part of you. You wish you could escape them.

Jules may be no more for the world but they are alive and breathing in your haywire brain and they are not very kind. Not that they ever were. But the Jules that haunts you, plagues you like a disease is ruthless with their words in a way the old Jules could never be. Not to you.

Description : Pale skin. Rosy tint to cheeks. High cheekbones. f!Long wheatish blonde curly hair with bangs. m!shoulder length curly wheatish blonde hair. Almond shaped brown eyes. Arched eyebrows. Long, thick lashes. Bow shaped lips. f!willowy frame. 5'11. m!broad back, narrow waist, long legs. 6'2.

CHAE WARREN. [he/him]

There are few you consider friend and Warren is one of them, alongside Sujin. He is revolution in a glass jar. A little rough around the edges, with bullet holes in his paper heart. Lately, the air becomes laced with awkwardness when its just the two of you around. You wish you weren't fairly perceptive. Perhaps that could have made you oblivious to the way Warren's adams apple bobs and his throat tightens when you are around, the way his fists clench when his tongue slips or the way he glances at you thinking you didn't notice.

Description : Sharp jaw. Medium complexion. Monolid chocolate brown eyes. Straight eyebrows. Thin pinkish lips. 5'7. Athletic figure. Short dyed dark red hair.

JESSICA HAWKINS. [she/her]

Jules' twin. You never bothered to acquaint yourself with her. She had always seemed too saintly and your mother had taught you well to stay away from that kind. Those who hide their tainted souls behind rosemary lies, platinum smiles and bright eyes stitched from sunshine. Beware of them, your mother had told you. But is that what she truly is doing? Spinning honeyed tales from saccharine lips?

You would never know. Unless you choose to. If it helps, Jules lips always quirked upwards and the crease in their brows mellowed whenever her name rolled off their tongue.

Description : Kind almond shaped brown eyes. Long, thick lashes. Bow shaped lips. Arched eyebrows. High cheekbones. Straight blonde hair, reaching her back. Pale skin. Willowy frame. 5'10.

DYLAN JEANE. [he/him]

Jules' boyfriend, Dylan. Well, ex boyfriend now. He seems to harbour a deep dislike for you. No matter how hard he denies it— the slight tensing of the muscles in his jaw always give it away.

You had always been curious about him. Jules and him were an odd pair. How could Dylan be what Jules desired? They were polar opposites. Jules was tidal waves and traditional typhoons. He is ruddy sunsets and roseate dawns. He is habit, he is routine, he is rigid, he is never changing. A sad strange kind of tragedy. Jules was anything but that. Jules was everything at once. Jules was never the same. Jules was uneven. Jules was hurricanes and tsunamis.

There is a natural downwards turn to his lips, his shoulders always a little hunched as if the burdens of life have dripped down from the ceiling and chosen to settle like dust upon his shoulders. You wonder what weighs him down so terribly. He talks as if every breath he takes from his lungs rattles him to the core. Perhaps it does. He seems to have taken Jules' death as hard as you, if not worse.

Description : Short slicked back midnight black hair. Heavy lidded hazel eyes. Slender built. Wears rimless rectangular glasses occassionally. Angular face. Sharp lips. Upwards eyebrows. Fair skin. 6'1.

AIDEN HAMILTON. [he/him]

The second child of the sleazy mayor. Boy of many faces. You don't trust him one ounce. For good reasons. It irks you to watch his eyes glimmer as if you are a specimen that intrigues him. You don't trust the myriad of unhealthy secrets he hides behind his charming gaze, the sly smile that tugs off the corner of his lips or the disarming lilt of voice as his salty tongue rolls off silken threads of honeysuckle lies frictionlessly. It comes to him as naturally as breathing. The impurity of his father's gold taints him, it runs in his veins and he embraces it willfully.

He is hiding skeletons in his closets and everybody knows that. What it is however, is a different story.

Will he let you in on a secret?

Description : Unruly brown wavy hair, in a middle part. Luscious lips, heavy lower lip, a small faint and old scar at the corner of his mouth. S-shaped eyebrows. Sea green hooded eyes. Tanned complexion. V-shaped jaw. Toned build. 6'4.

HEATHER HAMILTON. [she/her]

Eldest child of the mayor. You are not particularly friends but she is not a bad company to have around either. You like her. You have met in passing and she always has a quick smile reserved for you. You know she is a dreamer with a pomegranate heart. She has also somehow inherited her mother's love of parties. Hers tend to be a little more wild and carefree, though. Just like her.

Uncharacteristically, she is also fond of painting. Will you be her muse?

Description : Straight brown hair in a bob cut. Hooded brown eyes. Heart shaped lips. Soft arch eyebrows. Skinny frame. Tanned complexion. Dimples on both cheeks. 5'7.

MIA MORGAN. [she/her]

Mia Morgan is the kind of girl who will rip your heart out, eat it raw and call it love. With midnight eyes of catlike grace that could rival any godforsaken abyss and lips richer and darker than the blood running in your veins, she's the kind of girl that would skin you alive and chew on your fickle heart but then kiss your eyelids and tell you 'good night, baby' and you would like a lovesick dog spiral back to her, yearning for more.

Why? Because you are a fool? No. Because she was Mia Morgan and Mia Morgan was born for seduction and playing with the strings of childish hearts. A holy ruination. Destruction in its most, enchanting, enrapturing form.

Will you let her destroy you?

Description : Wispy bangs, short hush cut, black hair. Dark cat eyes. Beauty mark on upper lip. Soft jaw. Chubby cheeks. Crimson pouty lips. Fair complexion. Curvaceous figure. 5'2.

KIM SUJIN. [she/her]

She considers you a close friend, sharing every secret with you.

Description : Bronze skin, wide set brown eyes with gold flecks, button nose, freckles, curtain bangs, medium length chestnut brown hair. 5'3.

ARTHUR MORRIS. [he/him]

Aiden's friend. He's an asshole.

Description : Mahogany complexion, hollowed cheeks, has a stubble, ebony eyes, buzzcut, brawny. 6'1.

PARIS HILL. [he/him]

Local heartthrob. He looks handsome till he opens his mouth.

Description : Sunkissed complexion, wide lips, honey brown eyes, blonde hair in a fringe. Buff arms and broad back. Has an unhealthy obsession with shades. 5'10.

AUNT AUBURN MACKENZIE. [she/her]

She loves you dearly. There is nothing she wouldn't do for you.

Description : Brown hair, generally tied in a loose bun. Wrinkles near eyes and smiling lines around her mouth. Thin lips. Stout and a little hunched frame. Brown complexion. 5'1.

MOTHER. [she/her]

A woman with a twisted understanding of love. You haven't seen her in years and while you may have forgotten her face, her voice still rings crystal clear in your mind, like an old cassette on repeat.

FATHER. [he/him]

A man you knew but never quite understood. It is his face that stares back at you everytime you look in the mirror.

MAYOR JOHN HAMILTON. [he/him]

The mayor of Ravenwoods. It would serve you well to have him as an ally. Having strong connections has always proved to be useful.

Description : Beige skin. Hooked nose. Green eyes. Bushy brows. Short hair, close cropped. Smooth blonde hair. Plump frame. 5'8.

MEERA CHAUHAN HAMILTON. [she/her]

Wife of the mayor. She may be a little snobby but she means well. Most of the times. After all, who isn't a little selfish?

Description : Tanned complexion. Almond brown gold eyes. Brown hair wavy reaching her mid back. Slender frame. 5'10.

LAWRENCE HAWKINS. [he/him]

Father of the Hawkins siblings. You would rather not get involved with him.

Description : Pale skin. Blonde slicked back hair. Blue eyes. High cheek bones. Sharp jaw. Wears frameless rectangular glasses. 5'11.

AURORA HAWKINS. [she/her]

Mother of the Hawkins siblings. You would rather not get involved with her.

Description : Blonde hair, generally tied in a tight bun. Pale skin. Brown eyes. 5'9.

OFFICER RYAN DOUGLAS. [he/him]

He's a good man. He tries his best.

Description : Rosy complexion. Dark brown eyes. Short brown hair. Average build. 5'8.

DEMO. (DECEMBER OR SOONER!)

COG FORUM. (DECEMBER OR SOONER!)

EXCLUSIVE CONTENT. (TBD!)

FAQ.

> Rated 18+ for mature themes such as (heavy spoilers ahead!) explicit language, sexual themes, questionable behaviour, toxic relationships, murder, elitism, child abuse, domestic violence, insomnia, toxic relationships, manipulation, transphobia, racism, internalised transphobia and homophobia, death, childhood trauma, mild nudity, feelings of being watched, stalking, infidelity, hallucinations.

Reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for your interest! <3

[nessatwene-art]

Before Robyn went to Central High School she attended Ravenwood Academy, a prestigious boarding school, for 2 years until she decided to transfer for junior year.

Theres an old rumor that Ravenwoods basement is haunted by students who went missing many years ago. It became a tradition for freshmen to sneak in to the school at night to explore the haunted basement.

Near the end of freshmen year, Robyn and her Ravenwood friends went to explore the old basement. But it was nothing more than old classrooms and supplies. But the thought ate at Robyns mind “why is Ravenwood haunted? Why so many missing students?”

Robyn came back by herself few days later, wondering if theres could be any sort of clues yet to be found. Just when she was about to give up she discovered a hidden door concealed behind a old bookcase. Robyn pushed the door wide open, astonished at what she found.

An old laboratory, covered in cobwebs, rust, and dust. Old equipment laid toppled over on the tiled floor. Bits of glass cracked as Robyn wandered into the decrepit room. The shelves had cores, the hearts of unnaturals, sitting in tubes of liquid keeping them in stasis. “This lab was left to rot in a hurry...”

All the way across the room was a large glowing tube, and a mysterious specimen floating inside the same stasis liquid hibernating. “Experiment 301-B//: FAILED” the screen at the bottom of the tube read, cracked and glitched.

Suddenly a beaker fell from a shelf, shatter into peieces, startling Robyn. A bright purple shard laid on the floor. Robyn knew it was from a core but purple was a rare core color. Unnaturals with purple cores are extremely powerful and dangerous but extremely rare.

When she picked up the shard the specimen in the tube awakened and broke out of its glass jail, confronting Robyn. Nothing like any monster shes see before, large but amorphous. It chased her out of the lab and back onto the school’s campus. With the need to protect herself Robyn materialized her energy bow and arrow for the first time, shooting the unnatural right in its core, dissipating away.

Since then Robyn has felt sense of unease. Something maybe coming after her for what shes discovered. Maybe looking for the shard that she took from that lab. Suspecting that the rumor of the missing students could be related. And that Ravenwood is dubious. The feeling started to haunt her during her 2nd year. As much as she wanted to investigate this, she was afraid that she may end up like those who went missing.

But Robyn would find another way to solve cases like these at the comfort of a new school to start fresh at.

[ashcnwrittcnwcrds]

When Eleanor Ravenwood set foot back in her hometown of Ravenspeak, she felt a deep frown etch itself across her face, her brow furrowing with concern. The quaint streets she had once known were now marred by an unsettling sight—damage and debris strewn about like the aftermath of a great storm? Broken branches lay scattered everywhere, tangled with torn leaves and patches of mud, as if something monstrous had torn through the town. Deep gouges marked the cobblestone paths, and splinters of wood littered the ground like the remnants of shattered bones. Ravenspeak had always been a quiet, eerie village with a strange charm, but now it looked as if chaos itself had passed through.

“What in dear heavens happened here?” she muttered under her breath, then repeated louder as she caught sight of a passerby, a middle-aged man with a haunted look in his eyes. The man glanced at her, his face ashen, but hurried away without a word. Eleanor’s curiosity burned, her thoughts racing. She had no idea what calamity had befallen the town in her absence. She had left for Venice only months ago, believing the sleepy little village would remain unchanged, but it seemed she was gravely mistaken.

Eleanor moved through the streets with a grace that was almost otherworldly, her steps as light as a whisper on the wind. Despite the delicate flow of her movements, there was a strength beneath her stride—a power that belied her human-like appearance. She was a vampire, after all, a creature caught between the living and the dead. Her kind knew how to blend in among humans, moving with just enough poise to seem natural, yet fluid and deliberate, masking the inhuman speed and strength that could be summoned in an instant if needed. One could never be too careful; after all, there was always the possibility of a hunter lurking nearby, waiting for a moment of weakness.

Her dark eyes scanned her surroundings with heightened awareness, noting every detail, every tremor in the air. There was a nervous energy among the townsfolk, a palpable fear that she could almost taste. It wasn’t just her kind that wasn’t safe; humans, too, seemed to be on edge, clutching at their coats as if afraid of the shadows growing long with the approaching twilight. It was clear that whatever had happened here had left its mark on more than just the buildings.

Eleanor’s lips tightened into a thin line as she continued to walk. She needed to find someone who could tell her what had transpired while she was away. Was it a natural disaster, or something far more sinister? A part of her hoped it was nothing more than a freak accident, but her instincts told her otherwise. In a place like Ravenspeak, where the veil between the ordinary and the supernatural was already so thin, disaster rarely came without a dark cause.

[mynahx3]

My Dear in the Night 1.2K

HELLOOOOO LOVELIES!! I live! HA! Months later and i'm finally happy with what I'm writing. Life kinda just got crazy so I had to put writing on the back burner for a bit. I do have a few goodies I'm editing rn so I can't wait to share em once they're done. This story is a little sneak peak to the one I'm realllllyyyyy excited about. It's a Author! Suguru x Ghost! Reader. Nothing to warn rn but it will get dark so buckle up! Should be out latest end of Sept

It was a cold autumn evening, the moon shining brightly above, as expected given that it was midway through October.

A man sat in his dark room, silent as he hunched over his desk. Tired eyes looked over his laptop, the damned cursor almost mocking him as it blinked on an empty page. He felt his lip twitch in irritation; the only other movement was the tapping of his leg against the wooden floors.

In the morning, he would have to face the consequences of his actions. He would wake with a dull ache in his lower back as a result of his terrible posture; his wrists hurt from years of misuse, and his eyes burned from the brightness of his laptop, yet he couldn't sleep. He wouldn't until he had something.

Hours of sitting at his desk had gone by with nothing to show for it. He was supposed to be a renowned horror author with plenty of titles to his name, but lately, nothing seemed to flow from his mind like before. Any and all inspiration for the particularly gruesome topics of his writing was gone. The creative spark in his mind kept the flames of his imagination burning bright like an inferno, seemingly with no end, but now it was fizzled out. Dimmed and barely flickering.

A desperation gnawed inside him, urging him to find that spark once again before it was too late. The pressure to produce something, anything, weighed heavily on his shoulders as he stared blankly at the empty page before him. That desperation is what drove him to this small community. It was a much-needed reprieve from the rush and bustle of city life.

Currently, he finds himself in a deeper stump.

Ravenwood, located in the Appalachian Mountains, was a small town known for its cold weather almost all year and even colder residents, particularly to outsiders. Most wouldn't even think to look twice at the drab town, but it seemed to gain a second life with holiday season. Many came for a vacation in the snowy mountains to find a nice retreat from the reality of their lives. A place many went to have that perfect winter wonderland experience for half the price of others.

What had garnered his attention wasn't the mountain sights to see nor the cozy, cheap cabins for rent; no, it was the history. One that has been soaked with blood since it's founding.

This place only seemed to be a magnet for misery and despair. Disasters, fires, murders, and everything else that could go wrong were common occurrences in this cursed town. Many speculated what the cause was— monsters in the night, a witch in the woods, a vengeful spirit haunting the mountains, or simply bad luck. One thing was for certain: this winter wonderland had a dark side that no amount of snow could cover up.

Those seeking excitement, debunkers, and ardent supporters of the supernatural were drawn to this. Tourist traps littered across town saw many people flocking like moths to a flame, which locals were quick to capitalize on. Each one caters to the morbid curiosity and fascination with the town's dark history, offering ghost tours, haunted house experiences, and other macabre attractions.

Just as many took advantage of the town, others frowned at the exploitation of their past, telling the yearly visitors to stop while they were ahead. Despite the warnings from locals about the dangers of delving too deeply into the town's past, visitors continued to flock in, eager to uncover the secrets.

The man had only come to find inspiration. He didn't care for the talk of ghosts, of curses, or even of aliens- funny enough. Not that he ever believed in any of those things to humor even the thought of them.

He was a writer, after all, and all he needed was a good story to tell. And the town of Ravenwood seemed to hold more than enough material for his next bestseller. He thought that the rich, dark history would help rekindle that fire inside him. To let his mind flow once more for his next book, the start of a new series after his last overwhelming success. So far, he had gotten the characters down, the setting figured out, but he only needed that extra push to get the plot ironed out. For months, he had thrown together ideas, ideas he tossed after thinking on them for a bit.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he refocused his vision, looking from the white of his laptop to the window in front of him. The branches of the dead tree in the lawn swayed with the wind, the leaves rustling softly. It was a quiet night; like always, the neighbors always made sure to avoid any disturbances. He straightens his back in his office chair, moving his long bangs back with his hand, releasing some of the tension from his stiff shoulders. The stress of his deadline and unending nagging from his editors had almost made him forget how nice the quiet was. Looking down, he saw the houses all dark and quiet, with only a few dim lights shining through the curtains.

The neighborhood was old but well kept; houses stood with character along the streets. Each one is now decorated for the upcoming holiday, with carved lanterns on almost every porch and tacky decorations adorning the lawn. Something swayed in the wind that caught his eye, chimes jingling from it. It was a talisman.

The same bundle of different herbs, crystals, and wax symbols was hanging from every door in the neighborhood. Supposedly, it was an item to ward off any evil spirits, something they kept up year round. The townsfolk had a sense of unity in their efforts to ward off any negative energy. They seemed to take pride in their traditions and beliefs, creating a unique atmosphere in the community.

As he adjusted to the new surroundings, he finally felt comfortable enough to ask about it. The older woman next door was happy to inform him of the significance. She even made sure to gift him one, her eyes hardening as she warned him to keep it and hang it above his door at all times. Being raised with respect, he took the item with a small, grateful smile, pocketing the item with care before discarding it onto the very desk he sat at. Left and forgotten. When he continued unpacking, he chuckled at the sight of it in his office, unsure of the strong belief in a bundle of twigs and rocks.

Picking the talisman up, he turned it over, his thumb rubbed over the wax seal. Feeling the grooves and ridges of the strange symbol carved into it.

Evidently, he did not take superstition seriously… in the beginning. Even beliefs can change at the drop of a dime. The months he spent in the town had changed him.

In the dark hours of the night, he experienced things that could not logically be explained. It started small. Things that could be explained away by a forgetful mind. His keys disappearing only to come up in a place he would never leave them. Furniture was being moved so slightly that he initially thought it was his imagination. That's what any logical man would do. Chalk it up to his aging mind, even at the age of thirty, or simply an overactive mind caused by insufficient sleep and too much caffeine. But as the occurrences became more frequent and unsettling, he couldn't ignore the feeling that something was off. Shadows seemed to linger longer than they should, and whispers could be heard in empty rooms. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, even when he was completely alone.

Then one day, it all became clear: it was her.

Tap, tap, tap.

A sharp knock jolted him from his thoughts once more; he seemed to be getting more and more lost in his mind as of late. He now saw a figure blocking the moonlight. Well, a normal person would block it. The figure in his window, on the second floor of his house, casts a bluish tint onto him; their body was almost transparent; he could see the branches swaying behind her still. When he finally looked at her face, a sweet smile appeared on her lips.

"Hellloooo!" She called with a singsong voice, tilting her head at him. Hand waving at him excitedly. "You gonna let me in, Sugu?"

[thesoulspulse]

My Danny Phantom Fanfiction List

I can't seem to find my master list of all the Danny Phantom Fanfics I've written so far so I decided to just make another one!

Owen Ravenwood Fanfics (My First DP OC Ever)

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12409238/1/The-Grimoire (Original)

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12742285/1/Ravenheart (Original Sequel)

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14102184/1/Nevermore (Rewritten Version)

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14297213/1/Vestige (Nevermore Sequel)

Note: I'll make a separate master list for upcoming fanfiction projects I have planned in the future.

~

Danny Phantom AU (The Dan Rematch We Never Got)

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12861681/1/Nowhere-To-Run

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13581224/1/Nowhere-To-Run-Convalescence

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13772747/1/Nowhere-To-Run-Spirit-Of-Christmas

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13603725/1/Turning-Point

~

Danny Program AU/Ghost In The Machine Fanfics

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13995769/1/Ghost-In-The-Machine

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13970259/1/Danny-Program-AU-Oneshot-RESET

~

Good Vlad AU Fanfics

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13952979/1/Reconcile-Good-Vlad-AU-Oneshot

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13964134/1/When-Blue-Eyes-Meet-Good-Vlad-AU-Oneshot

~

Genderbent Danny AU (These Are ALL Badger Cereal)

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14016455/1/Haunted-Soul

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14129141/1/Final-Epitaph

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13761033/1/Lost-Soul

~

Feral (Wulf AU)

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13349311/1/Feral

[anxiously-sidequesting]

I keep thinking about that Schismist Soldier (because he's a meow meow) and in the possible event that we may never see him again I decided to add a PART THREE to his saga to eventually marry i mean defeat the Young Wizard once and for all. So buckle up for this messed up love/hate story.

We start off on his relaxing vacation that he promised everyone he would take after his second defeat at the hands of his One True Nemesis. He needed a break from his obsession i mean his career and all those thoughts about us isn't really good for him now is it??? So he's going to go to whatever the Wizard version is for Peru to take his mind off things! What fun!

But it doesn't work :((( because everything, EVERYTHING reminds him of The Young Wizard. The sheer AUDACITY to haunt his every waking moment, his thoughts and dreams when he was trying to FORGET you!!! He can't even relax when he's thinking about YOU all the time!!! Ugh!!!

So he just says "Alright fuck it I guess" and he decides (for the 80th time) that he's going to get rid of you PERMANENTLY this time, so that he could finally triumph over you and then be free! So he hatches up a plan, see? A genius plan, a plan that will SURELY cause you the most humiliation and agony possible!!!

He is going to enroll. In the very school that you started out as a fledgling. He will apply to study in your primary Magic School and he will quickly climb the ranks, proving to be a BETTER wizard than you ever were!! He'll RUIN your reputation amongst your peers using his dazzling intellect and unmatched skills, and then when the time is right he'll BEAT you at your own game, making you weep and cry in shame and fright before he FINALLY finishes you off!!! IT'S THE PERFECT CRIME!!!!

Que the Schismist Soldier learning the third rank spell of your primary magic school (Storm Shark in my case) and then he just cackles maniacally with crazed eyes before he fucks off into his dorm to bask in his future glory. The people that know him think he's funny and weird. He mutters our name over and over again at lunch and people just think he's a fan. He draws multiple pictures of us and furiously crosses them out with red ink and nobody gives a shit. Let him have his fun I guess

(I like to imagine that he doesn't even unmask himself when he goes undercover as a student of Ravenwood, he just straight up shows in his Schism armor and people think he's cosplaying as someone they've never heard of before. He truly is pathetic and I love him dearly for it)

[rachaelmayworth]

Bloody Mines: a palia short story (1,7k words)

Rune walked down the front yard of her home, tired and confused. The chill evening air tousling her hair, before she unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Warmth embraced her immediately, banishing the cold from her body, but not from her mind.

She put down the axe she'd been using all afternoon, coming down with a metallic clang as it fell against her partner's axe. The mines were always dark and eerie, but today was different. Today the eerie feeling had become all too real when she spotted that shirt. That damned shirt with the dark stains that had decorated it as it lay discarded on some wooden planks.

Her mind had immediately gone to blood, as the fabric looked perfectly crimson in the candlelight. Though it must have been dirt, she'd reasoned, there was definitely a lot of it in the mines.

But there was more in that mine shaft that had made her feel so uneasy. A perfectly fine satchel, carelessly discarded. A knife? Latched into one of the beams. And the ring-

"Welcome home!" River sang from the kitchen, pulling Rune from her cloud of thought. And just like that, the scent of dinner floated around her, beckoning her warmly. Rune felt a smile creep onto her face as she made her way over, finding River stirring food on the stove, her figure alight with the fire from the oven.

"That smells good," Rune said, wrapping her arms around River's waist, snuggling close to her and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"I've been practicing," River smiled, leaning into Rune's touch. It was nice coming home to her after such a long day. Rune's whirling mind somehow seemed to be quieter with River around.

But then, when dinner was long gone and the garden was looked after, when the fireplace had turned to embers and they were both deep under the covers of their ravenwood bed, Rune's mind was in full steam again.

The stained shirt haunted her, the reddish hue mocking her subconscious. It was sinking its teeth in her, mercilessly tugging at her, screaming to have all her attention. The ring grinned at her in her memory, shimmering grimly in the torchlight.

“Are you okay?" River asked. Her golden eyes gazed into Rune's, worry lapping over her face like a wave.

Rune sighed. Her stomach twisted a little, like it did every time she didn't really want to say something. Because if she did, it would somehow make it more real. “It's silly, nothing really.”

“Are you sure?”

Rune shrugged. River cradled Rune’s hand reassuringly.

“It's something I saw in the mines… it's probably nothing. I mean, it was probably just dirt…”

“What are you talking about?”

“I found a discarded shirt in the mines. Some other stuff too, but- yeah. The shirt.”

"The shirt," River parotted, a little smile forming on her lips. "Okay."

"Well, it's more what was on the shirt," Rune sighed deeply, "I think it may have been blood? But I don't know. It's dark in there. Could have been anything.”

“But you think it's blood.”

“Y-yeah. I think so?”

River smiled in the dark, the yellow of her eyes almost glowing. “Cool.”

Rune snorted. She couldn't help it. “Of course you think it's cool! You didn't see it in real life.”

“I'd still think it's cool if I did see it, though.”

“Yeah, true.”

Rune laughed poking River in the ribs playfully. River just batted her away.

“Careful! Or you can get more acquainted with the couch.”

“Not the couch!” Rune said, mock scared. River just laughed and snuggled closer.

Sleep didn't wait long to claim Rune after that. Sleep that was filled with crimson and unending passageways.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

“So, suppose it really is blood,” River said, scooping some soup onto her spoon, “do you think someone got murdered there?”

River's eyes shined too much at the word murder. Rune tried not to think about it too hard, ignoring the curious pull in her core. Instead, she focused on the tavern, where they sat at their regular table, eating their regular soup. She stared down at the green tabletop, the curves and worn grooves as familiar as their own dining table at home.

“Are you guys talking about the Bahari Bay Ripper?”

Rune jumped, utensils clattering as her knees bumped hard against the wood. Some soup slipped into her windpipe and a coughing fit ensued.

Reth stood next to their table, plates in hand, concern on his face as Rune kept coughing. He was the tavern’s cook, although sometimes it felt like he was the cook for the entirety of Kilima. The guy was weirdly intense about it.

“Who's the Bahari Bay Ripper?” River asked, leaning in closer. Rune instead sat back, her appetite having left her. Even though her stomach growled hungrily.

“Well that's- uhm. You guys are talking about the mines right?”

Rune nodded. River cocked her head questioningly.

“Wait, you know about that?” River asked at the same time as Rune said, “you've seen the shirt too?”

“Oh,” Reth flicked his hand nonchalantly, “everyone knows about that. But maybe you should talk to your boyfriend, Rune. He's definitely the one to talk to about this macabre stuff.”

Rune's attention snapped up at the mention of Jel. Reth raised his eyebrows at her. Then he looked around and leaned in conspirally. “I always figured the cartel had something to do with it,” he said thoughtfully, “but then Jel said something peculiar last night in b- I mean, as we passed each other on the street. He said something about losing a ring? Could be unrelated though.” he scratched his head. His cheeks looked a bit red.

Rune's brows furrowed. Her boyfriend was a peculiar person, so it wasn't all that strange if he had said something peculiar as well.

“Jel says weird stuff all the time,” River said, waving her hand dismissively, “that says nothing.”

“Did he say anything else while you guys were…” Rune gestured vaguely.

“When we passed each other on the street,” Reth offered helpfully and untruthfully.

“Right,” Rune said, eyes narrowed.

“Nope. Nothing else. I always try to end the conversations before they're started, anyway. Can't stand the guy.”

Now Rune was the one raising her eyebrows. “Oh yeah? You sure meet up a lot for foes. You're gonna have to try harder if you want your dalliances to go unnoticed.”

Reth's blush deepened several shades. Then his eyes darkened and fixed on Rune's mug. “You done with that?” he asked, then he quickly walked off with it before Rune could give an answer.

“He’s so easily taken off guard,” River smirked. Rune smiled back.

“He makes such a show of hating Jel, it's endearing.”

“So he doesn't hate him?”

“Oh he definitely does, it's just not the only feeling he harbours for him.”

River hummed at that, gazing at Reth’s retreating back. “Can't say I'm surprised.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Rune was so deep in thought as she strolled down the pond with Jel that night, that she didn't notice Jel trying to get her attention until he practically stopped her. She froze mid-stride to meet his gaze, his figure bathing in the waning moonlight. The pond behind him shimmered brightly, its surface silent and smooth like a mirror.

“Where are you in that pretty head of yours? I hate to see you troubled, my muse.” he reached out and squeezed her bicep lightly.

Rune looked down in surprise. His touch was warm and reassuring. And foreign. Jel often avoided touch, even this far into their relationship. So to feel his body so close to hers was something to savour.

She met his gaze, only broken by the pink of his glasses. They glinted in the moonlight, reflecting her bewildered state.

“I'm fine,” Rune said. But even to her ears it sounded unconvincing.

But then peripheral caught another shimmer. She looked down, her subconscious forever drawn by shiny stuff.

And there it was.

On his finger sat the very ring she'd seen in the mines.

That same damned ring that haunted her dreams. That was now forever fused with blood because she didn't know any logical reason why it would be at the scene of a potential crime without it having something to do with it. Anything to do with it.

“What- that's… I…”

“What's wrong?” Jel asked, “you look like you've seen a ghost.”

Rune's mind whirled. “You… you're…”

Jel creeped closer. So close. “Say it.”

“You're t- the Bahari Bay Ripper.”

Jel clasped his hands, looking incredibly pleased. The moon shone from above, casting deep shadows on his face. Rune never realised how sinister his face could look. “I'm so glad you figured it out. I don't know how much longer I could have kept this from you, my muse. Oh, this is simply delightful! Secrets are never good for any relationship, you know.”

Rune could only nod. Her throat felt too constricted to utter any words.

“What do you think, love? Would you consider joining me? I really need four hands for my next project. It's a rather sizable one.”

And just like that, something twisted and clicked inside Rune. Those words weaved through her like a spell, silver ribbons wrapping her up into Jel's sick world. The roaring in her stomach was back, and she realised now it was no hunger, but the rising of a monster.

Jel was looking at her expectantly, no amount of ferocity in his face. Rune wondered how he would react if she said no. But as soon as she thought it, she knew she couldn't.

“So, what do you say?” Jel asked, his eyes sparkling darkly. And somewhere deep down, the monstrous thing that was awakening as if from a deep slumber, clawed up her throat, demanding to be let out. The ringing in her ears grew into a roar, lighting every fiber of her being.

She locked eyes with Jel, knowing he would see that same dark spark reflected in her gaze. She smiled at him. And he smiled right back. Their monsters danced, and they both knew this wouldn't be the end. It was only the beginning.

[oldestenemy]

the deathless, the undying, and the unwilling divine - part 8 (the end)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 Here we are at the end <3 I'll get back to single chapter scion pieces now.

It’s quiet, the walk back.

Not comfortably so.

Thick and heavy and suffocating.

None of them have the energy to speak much to Tatyana when she summons them a portal back to Nightside. As it is, Penny and Marla are helping the wizard stand, Malorn has an arm wrapped around Duncan’s waist—Duncan who had protested at the help initially, until he nearly collapsed taking a few steps alone. They step through the portal, three and then two, out into the eternal dark of Nightside just behind Mortis.

Even for you.

Even for you.

Even for you.

Into the Death school. The wizard can barely think.

Dworgyn is waiting.

Cyrus is waiting.

“Hello there! You aren’t dead, or at least you don’t look it… Congratulations!” Five pairs of eyes blink back at Dworgyn in a way that must be unsettling, because he looks between them all and adds: “At least you’re breathing!”

The necromancers wave him off, half awkward, half exausted, and Cyrus requests the use of the Death Tower for a place to rest and explain. Which Dworgyn grants enthusiastically, waving them all back out again.

In the tower, after potions have been pressed into the Wizard and Duncan’s reluctant hands, after everyone has sat down in some form or another, in chairs, atop desks, on the floor. Cyrus speaks.

“You are the first to have engaged in the Law of Kan Davasi in a great age. I am glad to see all of you returned in one piece. Now, please, tell me everything.”

Marla speaks the most. Talks of Shane Von Shane and his minions, of the summoned spirits of the Dragon Titan’s army, of Tatyana and finally granting her rest after untold years of being bound. Duncan recounts their reunion with Sylvia, and how she was dragged from her rest only once Malistaire had taken up residence in Darkmoor. Malorn is the one to speak of the actual moments leading up to and following the final fight, though he leaves out the details of the wizard being thrown from the duel.

Penny watches silently, eyes flickering between the wizard, Malorn, and Cyrus.

It takes Cyrus a moment to digest the information poured forth. The wizard doesn’t think any of them would expect any different. The last several hours have been… Too much to say the least.

Is it still the same day they had left for Grizzleheim?

“May I ask how it is that five of you traversed the halls of Castle Darkmoor?”

Their body stiffens slightly, the urge to wince and the responding attempt to hide it.

“Four.” Penny pipes in before they can even open their mouth, “I stayed behind and met them after each fight, Renfield took me through other passageways, and then I remained with Tatyana at the Bridge to Neverwhere.” She says it with ease, staring down Cyrus Drake as if daring him to question her. “As much as I looked up to your brother as a figure, I didn’t know him like the others, I didn’t want any of them to lose their chance to say goodbye.”

“A decision I am sure your classmates appreciated deeply.” Cyrus replies, but he’s still looking at the wizard instead. “Perhaps, now that this ordeal is over, my brother can finally remain at peace. Thank you, all of you, for what you went through today in order to achieve this. I will not forget it.”

~*~

Duncan vanishes out of the Death tower before they can get a word. They’ll have to find him later—have to—and make sure that the Shadow magic he’d summoned (how had he managed that?) was in fact, safely siphoned away.

Beyond that…it would be nice to talk.

To clear the air again, after everything.

The crack and settling of the Celestial Calendar still haunts them every time they speak to Duncan. Like a warning. Like it’s waiting for something.

“Why did you lie?” They ask Penny, as she and Malorn help walk them back to the commons, and then to Ravenwood for a moment of rest.

They can’t help it.

They have to know.

“You weren’t ready to tell him,” Penny says softly “you didn’t before—when you could have—I just thought you might want some time to figure it out on your own. Malorn agreed.”

Malorn nods in confirmation on their other side, “Trust goes both ways, figured we should believe you when you say you’ve got it handled—most of the time.” He adds at the end, “No more running headfirst into deadly situations without help—or at least without telling someone.”

“I don’t have a choice most of the time,” The wizard replies, “turned into a habit I guess.”

It’s more than that.

It’s the detestation of other people hurting for them.

It’s the hatred of being a burden.

It’s the unacceptable truth that they can’t do everything on their own.

They can.

Most of the time they must.

It’s carried them this far.

“Yeah, well—no more of that. You deserve an actual break after saving the spiral three separate times.”

They frown slightly at the count—but then, left unchecked who knows what Malistaire might have done under Shadow’s influence. Maybe three was right.

“Hey, at least now I’m not alone with the title.” Their voice is a little too somber to carry the humor they want the words to. “All four of you are in the bucket with me—Saviors of the Spiral.”

Hopefully—in the case of the death students—it wouldn’t go any further than this.

Read the whole series here &lt;3

[raiyine]

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Brian Asman

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Brian Asman

[bangtanloverboys]

electric help // jhs

summary - needing to refuel, you stop by the fairgrounds, only you suck at all the games. thank the spiral that an attractive storm student offers to help

pairing - wizard!hoseok x quester!reader

genre - fluff; wizard 101 au

word count - 1.9k

warnings - dip’s made up lore, cute flirting

guide - divination = storm magic; mana = magic; whisps = ways to earn mana and health

author’s note - again, last names for a reason. but enjoy this cute little one shot

the seven schools of ravenwood

Ever since Wizard City had fallen into chaos, students of Ravenwood were encouraged to fight off the creatures. Professors had used the opportunity to offer it as extra credit, gathering experience in battle. So like the rest of the school, you joined in, sticking to the streets of your home, Triton Avenue. You fought against the rotting fodders and scarlet screamers tooth and nail, but they kept coming and coming, pouring out of the Haunted Cave. It was a tireless cycle, leaving you constantly drained.

Low on mana and too tired to run around chasing whisps, you trudged over to the Fair Grounds. It was an easy way to fill up on mana and earn potion refills, making for easy health and mana recharging whilst away on quests.

Walking over towards a tent, you picked up a couple rings from the table. The game was easy enough, just toss all your rings onto an old glass bottle. You threw one, two, three rings out over the bottles but none caught on. You did the game again. Tossing the rings one, two, three and just barely hitting the bottle the third time. You let out a frustrated groan, hitting the wooden table as another three rings flew down towards you. 

“Want some help?”

You threw your head around, meeting the eyes of a Storm student. You’ve seen him around before; hard to miss him with his black and purple hair. Not many people decided to rock multiple color combinations. 

“This game is impossible,” you grumbled.

“Not really, there’s just a little trick to it,” the Diviner explained, taking the three rings. Sticking out his tongue and angling his arm at a particular position, he threw the first ring. It landed. He threw the second and the third, both landing on the bottles. “See?” 

“Show off,” you grumbled as you folded your arms, eyeing him closely. “How did you do that?”

“I’m sorry, that’s a trade secret. Only my most trusted friends are told,” he smirked.

“How does one become one of your most trusted friends, pray tell?”

You saw a glimmer in his eyes, a bright spark of electricity that’s only seen in diviners as he held out his hand. “Shake my hand.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but you took his hand.

“Hoseok Thundershard, at your service.” 

“Y/N Griffineyes.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said. “Now as one of my most trusted friends, you must promise to never tell another soul. Understood?”

“Understood,” you huffed with a smile. Sure he was a bit over the top but it was almost charming. Almost.

“Good. Now, you want to angle your arm to throw up, but only use your wrist to toss the ring. Like this.” As he spoke, he took the position again, flicking his wrist and sending the ring soaring.

“Is sticking your tongue out also a requirement?” You laughed, noticing how he had stuck his tongue out again.

“What? No, uh-” His cheeks turned red at your teasing. “That’s just a me thing,” he shyly confessed. “You try.” Hoseok took a step back, allowing you to take the second shot. 

Taking the rings in hand, you tried to mimic his stance. With a flick of your wrist, you sent the ring flying. But instead of landing on the bottle, it hit the glass, tumbling to the ground. 

“Stars!” You hissed.

“You’re doing it wrong, here.” Hoseok moved to stand behind you. Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness as he placed the ring into your hand. Gently, he wrapped his hand around your wrist, angling your arm and wrist. “Keep your wrist around hip level, and angle up. Try again.”

You tossed the ring again, this time the ring landed on the bottle. “I did it!”

“Yeah, you did!” Hoseok cheered.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, feeling lighter than you were a few mere minutes ago.

“It’s no biggie.” He shrugged as the two of you left the tent, ready to refill your potions in the front. “The games can be a bit tricky, they say they’re not rigged but some definitely are.”

“You could say that again,” you chuckled airly. Both of you refilled your potions bottles, but if you were being honest, you weren’t quite ready to leave your new friend. “Say, do you want to. . . do something? Maybe?”

“What did you have in mind?”

You stuttered in your steps, remembering that there’s actually not that much to do nowadays. The Fireglobe Theatre has been closed for a few months now, and you didn’t exactly feel like challenging your new friend to a duel. . . “Wanna go fishing?”

There the two of you sat on the grassy area in the commons beside the pond, fishing poles in hand. It was a boring activity for sure, but at least it was somewhat relaxing. 

“Gotta say, never really fished before but it’s peaceful. Nice way to unwind after everything,” Hoseok sighed blissfully.

“It is,” you agreed. “Picked up the habit ever since the streets started getting taken over.”

“What did you used to do?”

“Used to spend a lot of time at the theatre, watched a lot of the fire elf shows.”

“Do you live in Firecat Alley?” He asked, curious.

“No,” you shook your head. “Triton Avenue. I just have a love of theatre, plus Prince Alicane Swiftarrow puts on a great show. Why do you ask?”

“I grew up there. Thought I might’ve seen you around,” he answered. “But I do agree with you, Swiftarrow is a great actor as are the other fire elves.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, remembering one of the last shows the fire elves put on, A Comedy of Fizzles. “I gotta ask. . . do you stick out your tongue in battle too?”

The tips of Hoseok’s ears turned red, he kept his eyes trained on his fishing pole. “I uh, so I’ve been told. It’s stupid, I know. But it’s just a weird habit I’ve kept up.”

“I think it’s cute,” you winked at him. 

His jaw dropped in shock, but before he could speak, his line started tugging. “Oh, stars!” He hissed as he started reeling in his line, fast as he could. “Come on. . . come on. . .” You watched on in excitement as he pulled in his catch. With one final pull, Hoseok yanked the fish out of the water, revealing a sharkspeare. “I- uh, wow!”

“Congrats, Hoseok!” You smiled as he summoned a bucket, placing his catch inside. “That’s impressive. You sure you haven’t fished before?”

“Completely, first ever catch!”

“I wish I was that lucky,” you sighed, feigning jealousy. 

Overhead, the ringing of the curfew bell sounded. You lost track of time, just now noticing how low the sun hung in the sky. 

“Oh, guess I’ll see you around then?” You asked as you stood up, gathering your fishing supplies in your hands. 

“Of course, you’re now one of my most trusted friends, afterall,” he chuckled, picking up his catch of the day. “If you ever need help with anything, fair games or battles, feel free to call me,” he said as he handed you something. It was a communication ring. 

“I will.” You nodded. “See you around!” You said as you headed back towards the dormitory, whilst Hoseok directed himself towards the Shopping District. 

“Later!”

Unfortunately, you don’t manage to see Hoseok again or find a need to call him. You sucked yourself into your studies, fearing falling behind, especially since you were so close to transferring to Krokotopia. You didn’t think about going back out to battle. But you did think about calling him; of maybe asking him to join you on one of your study days (he was a diviner, maybe he could spare a few tips and tricks). But instead, you kept to yourself, only looking down at the ring longingly.

Until one evening it started to glow.

“Y/N? Are you there?” Hoseok’s voice emanated through the purple stone, sounding frantic.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“Uh, got myself in a bit of a pickle, to say the least,” he huffed as the familiar crackling sounds of magic and lightning were heard behind him. “Sohomer asked me to help with the. . . Kraken issue going on. I’m running low on mana, think you could help me out?”

You didn’t even need to think twice. Grabbing your spell deck and wand, you twisted the ring around your finger, teleporting you to Hoseok’s location. Swirlings of dust and lightning swirled around you, consuming your vision. Just as soon as it appeared, the dust fell away, revealing Hoseok facing off the Kraken in battle, the everpresent thunder clouds of Triton Avenue overhead. 

Immediately, you ran towards Hoseok, taking place beside him on the battle sigil. In front of you was the fearsome Kraken that lived in the caves beneath the city. You’d spent most of your childhood admiring the creature whenever it crawled out from its hiding place between Four Falls Mills so to see it up close was both terrifying and awe inspiring. If it wasn’t actively trying to kill your friend, you would’ve thought it a thing of beauty. 

“How in all of the Spiral, did you end up here?” You shouted, pulling out your spell deck.

“Sohomer asked me to do a favor and that led to another favor, and another favor. . .” He responded, summoning another spark, barely hitting the creature. “Been using no mana spells to try and break it down bit by bit, but I need a heavy hitter. . . I don’t have enough for it myself!”

Eyeing through your deck, you knew exactly what spell to cast, but you’d need to build up to it in order for it to take down the Kraken. With a wave of your wand, you drew out the scales of your school, and a Balance blade formed over your head, circling around you.

After your turn, the creature waved his hand, the divination symbol appearing in front of him. A thunderous cloud formed overhead, screeching echoed as three lightning bats appeared out of the darkness, swirling around Hoseok. He let out a grunt as he covered his head, trying to cover himself from the attack.

“Any time now would be appreciated!” 

“Alright!” Once it was your turn again, you waved your wand, summoning the Judgment. The seraph flew out from the center of the battle sigil, sword and scales in hand. You and Hoseok stared up at her with baited breath as she clanged her sword against the scales, sparking at the Kraken. The creature wailed, falling back at the hit before crawling back into its cave. Defeated.

Both of you stood there for a moment, panting in the aftermath of the battle. 

“I hope. . . whatever Sohomer needed was worth all that.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Hoseok held up a fully charged storm crystal. 

You looked at one another, quiet before both of you bursting into tired laughter. “Well. . . guess we could cross the Kraken off our bucket lists,” you huffed as you and Hoseok started back towards the exit portal, back towards the Storm Mill.

“You could say that again,” Hoseok chuckled. “But you really saved me back there, thank you.”

You gave a shrug. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

“Tell you what: after Sohomer gives me that reward, we head to the fairgrounds. I think we deserve some time off.” He shot you a wink as he spoke.

Feeling heat rush to your cheeks, you nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

[calciumcryptid]

No one asked for it but here are my headcanons in terms of Pirate Nolan Stormgate's tattoos and scars.

Orange

Myth Sigil: After he graduated from Ravenwood, he tattooed the myth sigil so he doesn't have to use a wand on the seas.

Yellow

Earthquake & Bubbles (head): I don't know when he would get this one, but I imagine it was shortly after his first year as a myth student. It is probably the smallest not counting the sigils.

Myth Symbol Eye (neck; not featured): He gets this tattoo roughly into his thirties as the eye covers the front of his neck.

Bloodbats (left leg): He gets a tattoo of a swarm of bats circling around his leg in his twenties. Other sailors think it is because he braved the Haunted Skyways, but in reality he just likes bloodbats.

Light Blue

Kraken Tattoo: As an enrollment gift, Nolan's parents paid for a tattoo and he went all out. The main kraken is over his bicep, the rest is just tentacles including some that run along his neck and over his ear. It covers a bit of his back as well.

Dark Blue

Family Crest: On his back and over his heart is a tattoo of his family's flag. This was the first tattoo he ever got, and his parents only agreed to it because it was their symbol and they thought it was sweet.

His front is still empty because he wants to tattoo his own flag when he decides on one.

Purple

Lichtenberg Figures: These scars are from his attempts at divination. He views them as a universal punishment for him deviating from being a Witchdoctor, but he continues on despite it. They tend to light up when he uses magic, and sometimes they cause immense pain.

Lichtenberg Names: I imagine he has tattooed the names of his crew along the 'branches' of his scars, it is also the first thing he does when he lands somewhere with a tattoo artist around.

Indigo

Storm Sigil: After he graduated from Ravenwood, he tattooed the storm sigil so he doesn't have to use a wand on the seas.

Bonus: Piercings

He has several piercings along his ears, but he usually has one in at a time. When they are fully decorated the jewelry consists of pure gold and different blue gemstones.

He has a tongue piercing he got with some other Skull Island kids. He obtained it before attending Ravenwood, but none of the other students believed him when he told them thinking Nolan was just being the most again.

Other Notes

I know pirates don't actually typically get tattoos, but I wanted to give him some because tattoos have always been an interest of mine.

The reason he gets a lot of these later in life is a) Your twenties to thirties are the best times to get tattoos due to your skin thinning later in life and b) I think it would be hilarious for there to be a Ravenwood reunion and Nolan just shows up completely covered in tattoos.

[kimberly-earthfriend-archive]

These wizards are. So dear to me,, let me tell you a little about them

1. Micah Skyweaver. As a young boy he lived with his parents and elder brother in Celestia. His brother was sent to Ravenwood and became a student of storm. One summer when he came home, there was an accident in which Micah was struck by lightning. Now terrified of this power that belonged to the sky, he became determined to learn everything about it, collecting books from the spiral over about the magic of the heavens. But instead of leading him down the path of storm like his brother, it led him to Astral magic. The sun, moon and stars were his domain, and when he wasn’t standing at the window of the Celestial Observatory, watching the skies, he was in the Astral Archives, learning to become a scholar of magic. It was here that he learned about Empyrea, the world at the heart of the spiral, and vowed that one day he would see it for himself.

2. Anya Silverblood. Anya is an Ice Wizard from Polaris. She ran away from home at the tender age of 17, as she was lonely and felt neglected by her family, feeling like little more than a ghost that wandered desolate tundaria. Between her family’s inattentive nature and the constant threat of violence and revolution, Anya had no choice but to take her leave of that wretched world. Eventually she found her way to dragonspyre, where she was adopted by a pair of musicologists, who use their songs to influence the narratives of the spiral. One, a resident of Darkmoor who had been forced to flee after a quarrel with her lover, and the other a pirate from Cool Ranch. Over time, she and the musicologists found more people just like them from across the spiral: a metallic construct from Avalon who had been accused of magic before it was made legal there and tossed into the Nothing; a pair of soldiers from Marleybone, who swear they’ve fought legions from the moon (but were probably just celestians that they didn’t yet understand). One, a wooden construct, like the haunted minions, who had been built for war and saw the universe a little differently than it’s companions. The other, a young man with keen eyes and a tendency to fly into an Achillean rage if those he held dear were hurt; a scholar from the Arcanum who lost her memory when the first Ark crashed; the daughter of an Aquilan inventor who flew too close to the sun; a pyromancer from a world long lost who grew tired of the constant fighting and set it all ablaze; and a celestian man from the era of war between man and machine, who is neither a baron nor a doctor. (They’re the mechanisms. I’m making the mechanisms in wizard101. If anyone else out there is also interested in both media please talk to me, I’m very normal about them I promise). But Anya drifted apart from the other musicologists, and cast herself out of their vessel, into the skyways, where she drifted in the dark for a very long time. The metallic blood that flowed through her veins kept her alive against all odds as she lost consciousness in the void. She hoped she would not mind it when she eventually woke up, and indeed found herself back in dragonspyre, where she had initially been adopted by that darkmoorian vampire so long ago, and was found again by a new group of adventurers that needed her help.

3. Tatiana Starwalker. I cannot do Tatiana’s intricate story justice myself, as they’re not my character. Here’s a link to @tatiana-starwalker’s post on the matter

I think we’ve established since this was posted that Tatiana is closer with Kimberly than Rowan, and did not attend ravenwood at the same time as our plucky protagonist, as they’ve got their own band of wizards to look after now, but you’ll have to correct me if I’m wrong <3

4. Rowan Drake Duskhaven. Ah yes, the young wizard themself. Rowan is originally from Dragonspyre but they don’t remember a life there. Instead they grew up on the streets of wizard city, chasing the firecats and feeding the unicorns. They were whisked off to Ravenwood as soon as Merle got wind of a prophecy concerning Rowan and their family, and since then they’ve studied necromancy and journeyed across the spiral, defeating threats as they rise and finding themself in the process. When Malistaire was defeated and Sylvia came around from the astral plane to tell him it’s time to rest, they discovered the true nature of their birth - a child of the Drake Family. When Ambrose’s prophecy told him that a dragonspyrian necromancer will either save or doom the spiral, he rounded up the last of the Drakes, and had Rowan adopted by a member of the Wizard City guard, hoping that this fate could be avoided. But Rowan cannot help their magical proficiency any more than they can disobey the prophecy. And so, the young wizard is what they became. The Great Prophecy regarding Morganthe is widely interpreted to be about a different wizard, however, as Rowan is from the spiral and therefore never “sailed the shadow sea,” meaning they never crossed the Nothing between the spiral and the outer universe. But in this story, the child never came, and so Rowan did their utmost to save the spiral each time it began to fall, despite knowing that they were not the one the Elders intended. It’s difficult to be the chosen one when you were never actually chosen, but they’re too compassionate to allow the worlds to shatter. They cannot let the worlds they love be destroyed no matter what.

5. Kimberly Earthfriend. The first wizard I ever created, she’s been with me since 2011. Kimberly was born and raised in Avalon, a healer to knights from across the realms and a friend to the fair folk and all the plants of the forest, which is where she gets her name. She was frequently found as a child wandering the woodland paths of Dun Dara, and was casting life magic almost before she could talk. At a very young age she showed a proficiency for magic the likes of which hadn’t been seen in a long while, and so was summoned to Ravenwood just in case she was the prophecy child, the child who shall sail the shadow sea. She was not, but she found great joy in Ravenwood, especially in magical duels. Since then she has competed in spiral cups and immortal games alike, travelling the spiral to spar with new and exciting opponents, and to search for interesting plants to journal about. She also loves gardening. She became close friends with Tatiana Starwalker in Wysteria, when Tatiana was competing in the Spiral Cup, as Kimberly spends a lot of time in Pigswick Academy during tournament season, tutoring young duellists for the cup and healing them up after battle. Now, she travels with the Young Wizard, acting as a strategist and healer for their quest.

6. Alexandra Goldeneyes. Alex is not really a bee, but the hive is the only home she’s ever known. She was abandoned in Khrysalis shortly before contact was lost with the rest of the Spiral, and was raised by Ezzric at the moon cliffs. When the Umbra Queen came knocking, she began to learn shadow magic, hoping to become one of the most powerful assets the Umbra Legion would ever know. But all that changed when Zaltanna rebelled. Alex and Zaltanna had been close as youngsters, and it didn’t take much convincing from her childhood friend to get Alex to join the fifth column instead. When the spellbinder tumbled through the ruined spiral door, Alex was sent as a guide, a liaison of sorts, to help the adventuring party get around Khrysalis, and to begin to teach Rowan the ways of shadow magic.

7. Cassandra Djeserit Lotusflower. Cassie was born and raised in Krokotopia, but taught herself moon magic at a young age so that she could disguise herself as human. She hated everything about the tomb of storms, where she attended her deceased family and helped them on their journeys through the duat. She wanted nothing to do with the Djeserits and despised the way that the manders were treated, often helping them to flee the tombs where she could get away with it. The order of the fang caught wind of her teaching herself the magic of the moon and called her to aid them when the kroks rose again. She jumped at the chance to get away, and was later trained in balance magic by Alhazred. She acts as a sort of mission control for Rowan’s group, staying behind in Krokotopia and keeping them informed whenever a new crisis rises so that they can attend to it ASAP.

By the time they reach the Arcanum, near the beginning of arc 3, the party looks more like this. Still led by Rowan, but a lot has changed. For a start, they’ve got a new member! Mellori is now a proud part of the team, though only until she’s sent to Ravenwood right before they go to Mirage. Alex decided to stay behind in Khrysalis, helping the bees and mantises to rebuild their lives. Anya was reunited with her family in Polaris, and decided to give things in her homeworld a second chance. Cassandra still remains in Krokotopia, and will send messages to the squad when they need to be informed of an upcoming disaster. Micah, Tatiana and Kimberly decided to stay with her young wizard, however. Micah has been scouted by the Arcanum to help out in the upcoming mission to Empyrea, as he knows so much about it already and has been preparing for this moment his whole life. He works closely with Ione, who hails from Empyrea and is teaching him to be less frightened of storms, and Qyburn, with whom he shares a great passion for astral magic. Kimberly is looking to eventually visit Wallaru, as Zander, her new lecturer, hails from this world, and he has much to teach her. She has signed up as an Arcanum initiate and will stay here throughout this part of the story, training with Zander. Tatiana is researching the Cabal, the Old One and the Firstworld, and looks forward to travelling to Lemuria to survey the Old One’s work. And Rowan, of course, is still saving the Spiral. Since grandfather spider was released, they have a lot of work to do.

[moviesandmania]

CONJURING THE CULT Calvin Morie McCarthy's newest horror - trailer

Conjuring the Cult is a 2024 horror film about a man who attends a self-help group to cope with the death of his daughter. The movie was written and directed by Calvin Morie McCarthy (Insidious Inferno; Exorcism in Utero; Pillow Party Massacre; Conjuring: the Beyond; Mutant Vampires from the Planet Neptune; A Haunting in Ravenwood; An Amityville Poltergeist; Jesus I Was Evil). It was produced by…

[ravenspeakrp]

Welcome to Raven’s Peak, Naomi, we’re excited to have you! Eleanor Ravenwood (Vampire, Elle Fanning) has been accepted. Please be sure to stop by the CHECKLIST for the follow list, tags to track, and other reminders.

NAME:  Naomi PRONOUNS: She/her AGE: 28 (turning 29) TIMEZONE: GMT+1/2

IN CHARACTER 

FULL NAME: Eleanor Ravenwood SPECIES: vampire AGE: 500+ years old DATE OF BIRTH: she can't remember the exact date but it was in fall GENDER IDENTITY: Female NEIGHBORHOOD: Hidden Hills OCCUPATION: Sculptor WORKPLACE: Her own gallery POSITIVE TRAITS: sensual, seductive, sweet NEGATIVE TRAITS: easily annoyed, unpredictable, cunning LENGTH OF TIME IN RAVEN’S PEAK: 400+ years FACE CLAIM: Elle Fanning

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNING: sickness, death

**Background Story of Eleanor Ravenwood**

Eleanor Ravenwood, born Eleanor Valentina di Ravenna in 1489, emerged into a world teetering on the brink of modernity, where the Renaissance was flourishing in Italy. Born into a noble family in Venice, her early life was one of privilege and education. Her father, a wealthy merchant, provided Eleanor with opportunities few women of her era could dream of. She grew up amidst philosophers, painters, and poets—developing a sharp mind, an appreciation for art, and a love for knowledge. Her beauty, with her porcelain skin and striking green eyes, soon became renowned, but it was her intellect and curiosity that set her apart from her peers.

At the age of 25, Eleanor was on the verge of marrying a powerful duke, a union arranged by her father to solidify their family's political connections. However, on the eve of her wedding, a mysterious and devastating plague swept through Venice, taking her family and much of the city with it. As the sickness ravaged her body, Eleanor lay on her deathbed, resigned to join her family in the afterlife. But fate intervened in the form of an enigmatic visitor: a vampire elder named Lucien Ravenwood.

Lucien, an ancient vampire who had been watching Eleanor from the shadows for years, was drawn to her brilliance and resilience. He offered her a choice—to succumb to death or to live forever, free from the constraints of time, mortality, and the limitations imposed on her as a woman in her era. Desperate to escape death and fuelled by a hunger for knowledge, Eleanor accepted Lucien's offer. That night, she was transformed into an immortal, reborn as Eleanor Ravenwood.

Eleanor's early years as a vampire were spent under Lucien's tutelage, learning the intricacies of immortality. He taught her how to control her thirst, manipulate human society, and use her powers of persuasion and strength to her advantage. Their relationship was tumultuous—equal parts mentor and captor, lover and rival. While Lucien reveled in the power and chaos of vampiric life, Eleanor grew to resent the shadows, hungering for something more than eternal night.

By the 18th century, Eleanor began to distance herself from Lucien, seeking her own path in the world. She traveled through Europe, witnessing the rise and fall of empires, revolutions, and the dawn of new eras. With each century, she adapted—mastering new technologies, languages, and identities. She became an artist in the 19th century, creating intricate paintings and sculptures that captured the fleeting essence of humanity. In the 20th century, she reinvented herself as a brilliant academic, moving through the world's most prestigious universities under various pseudonyms, studying everything from quantum physics to ancient languages.

Yet, despite her vast knowledge and the endless experiences her immortality provided, Eleanor remained haunted by the loneliness of her existence. She had seen countless lovers, friends, and companions wither and die, leaving her to wander the earth in perpetual solitude. The weight of centuries pressed down on her, and the thrill of eternal life faded into a burden. Eleanor became a myth in the vampire world, a figure of cold beauty and ancient wisdom, but one who kept her distance from both the mortal and supernatural worlds.

However, Eleanor’s story takes a darker turn in the modern era. As the human world advanced into the 21st century, so too did the forces hunting her kind. Now, in the shadows of modern cities, Eleanor Ravenwood wages a war for her survival. She has become a complex figure—an immortal caught between her love for humanity's fleeting beauty and her hunger for the eternal, trapped by the knowledge of too many lifetimes but fueled by an unwavering will to live. As the world changes around her, she remains a force of intellect, elegance, and lethal power—a vampire who is as mesmerizing as she is deadly.

And at the heart of it all, Eleanor Ravenwood, with her icy grace and centuries of experience, must decide whether to continue her lonely existence or to seek an end to her unyielding life. But even in her darkest moments, Eleanor knows one truth: she will never bow to fate again. She will write her own destiny, even if it leads her into the heart of death itself.

EXTRAS

FILLING CONNECTION: No INSPIRATIONS: not yet