#lowley not proud of how this turned out

[siphoklansan]

Introducing…. ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

backstory section: “Jun-Pa’s Lore” indented section

꧁𝐉𝐮��-𝐏𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐚꧂

จันทน์ผา ฉัตรชยา ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

“I look like someone you know, you say? It is simply just a coincidence.”

Height: 158 cm.

Birthday : 6 of August.

Age : ???????

Homeland : East of Scalding Sands (Attidaya)

Best Subject : ????

Club : ????

Talents : Black Magic, Ancient Magic, lullabies

Hobby : Weaving

Dislikes : ?????

Favorite Food : Larb Ped (spicy minced duck - ลาบเป็ด)

Least Favorite Food : None.

꧁𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜꧂

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝗺𝐞𝐬: an ability to set an area in flames. The ability can only be activated with a powerful chant and complete focus. The maximum range is 1 square mile (640 acres). As the ability activates, ancient talismans are carved onto the ground into the desired shape that Jun-Pa needs to burn an area. When the shape is complete, the area will be set ablaze.

꧁𝐅𝐮𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝗼𝐮𝐭 𝐉𝐮𝐧-𝐏𝐚꧂

-“She has taken a while to figure out how to add traditional patterns to my sabai. The end product is not half bad.

-“I am satisfied with how she drew my ear rings. I shall wear them with pride.

- “The arm cuffs are supposed to represent dahlias. I quite like the symbolism behind them.”

- “My limbs? I suppose they’re one of the quirks for being…dead.”

- “You look concerned for the tattoo on my neck. I shall let you guess on a scale of one to ten how much it hurt when I got them. Have you got a number in mind? The answer is 10.”

꧁𝐀𝐛𝗼𝐮𝐭 𝐉𝐮𝐧-𝐏𝐚꧂

- Phew! Sorry for all the theatrics, Jun-Pa might’ve taken control a bit there😔🙏

- I’m very happy to announce the release of Jun-Pa, who is the mysterious OC that looks a lot like Siphok (they look like carbon copies of each other tbh)🥳💖

- I planned to make a big comic regarding Siphok’s lore, but due to the limited time I have and the lack of motivation, I might as well just make little snippets of the lore instead!

- But before we get into that, let’s talk a bit more about Jun-Pa since she wasn’t feeling like revealing too much about herself.

- Her name, Jun-Pa, is the name of a type of tropical plant called Dracaena loureiri Gagnep (scientific name). I just like how the name sounds and it feels quite homey because I see these trees all the time!✨

- Her last name, Chatchaya, means “victory”. The name is masculine in Thai, because it is actually her late adoptive father’s surname that she took when he passed.

꧁𝐉𝐮𝐧-𝐏𝐚 𝐋𝗼𝐫𝐞꧂

- When creating Jun-Pa’s story, I was actually inspired by a popular superstition in the northeast of Thailand about souls. It is said that everyone is born with a soul called “Kwan”and this little Kwan usually comes from the crown of our head.

*it is important to note that this is a superstition, and it is different for every household.

- The soul is known to be jumpy, especially if the person is still young. The younger they are, the jumpier the souls get. For example, when babies cry due to whatever reason like being startled, adults would say “ขวัญเอยขวัญมา“ which directly translates to “Oh soul, please come back”. The superstitions says that when you are scared or went through a traumatizing experience, your soul will basically get lost or fly away.

- For adults, back in the old times when Thai men go to war and they come back traumatized, it is said that their soul is lost, so a ceremony was created to bring souls back. The ceremony is simple, basically bringing the traumatized person around to places where they have good memories, and there loved ones would use a fishing net to scoop the air in that area as if to acquire the lost soul. There are more details to the ceremony, but I won’t go in too deep because I don’t wanna bore you all😭.

*it is important to note that it is not only men/soldiers that get traumatized, it could happen to anyone.

Jun-Pa’s case is similar to the superstition. She was an orphan that was severely abused in her orphanage, before a man decided to adopt her and call her his own.

Growing up, Jun-Pa was surrounded with martial arts and ancient magic. The man, who is her adoptive father, was a martial artist and a man who had a mind beyond his time. That said he had many great views that are considered normal today (ex: feminism, gender equality, etc.)

However, at that time, anyone who was different was frowned upon. The high elders of the section of Attidaya (where Jun-Pa and her father lived), managed to weave conspiracies on her father, accusing him of treason and practicing black magic and whatnot.

Sooner or later, her father was publicly executed right in front of her eyes, and at that moment her soul (quite literally) left her body.

At that point on, she was driven with madness and practiced many dark forbidden arts to enact her revenge. She was on the run for many years, until she publicly revealed herself to the authorities to get sentence to death like her father.

Jun-Pa’s plan was set in stone the moment she was tied to a stake. It was the moment where she revealed her unique magic. Using all her power, she managed to burn the whole section of the country alive along with her. The section is known today as “Thuli”, the place forever immortalized as ashes.

But Jun-Pa did not die peacefully. She couldn’t be reborn or go anywhere, getting stuck in limbo. In order to be reborn, she must find her lost soul.

As if luck was on her side, her soul somehow managed to find itself in Twisted Wonderland. Jun-Pa was surprised to see that her soul had taken a physical, human form; for it must’ve been reborn as a new being in another world.

The soul is, you guessed it, Siphok!

As for how Jun-Pa is going to get her soul back, we’ll have to see how the story will unfold in the future✍️✨

[pit-and-the-pen]

Chapter 4

 Just a short chapter to kick off my ideas for this series! Hope you enjoy! 

        A knock on Fred’s door interrupted him from a rather pleasant dream, the smell of apples faintly being chased away as he stirred awake. “Go away” He grumbled as loudly as he could muster before pulling a spare pillow over his head and rolling over onto his stomach. 

       “You���re late for training.” George calls from the other side of the door. Fred just groaned loudly and swore. He’d never hear the end of this from the guys. Trudging out of bed, he threw on whatever clothes he touched first. Deciding he could put together a better outfit later. His training gear would cover it anyways. 

     Walking out of the door, George whistles lowley when Fred passes him. A cup of warm coffee was shoved into his hands by George. Fred’s not normally a coffee drinker, but grimaces and downs the small cup anyways.  “Boy, you would think you stayed up the whole night.” George laughed at Fred’s disheveled appearance. “She even got you home at a reasonable time and everything.” He laughs a little louder at the slightly starstruck look that takes over his brother's face at the mention of last night. He claps his brother over the shoulder.  “Look at you, losing sleep over a pretty face.” 

Fred winds up to argue back before George holds his hands up. “Mate, it’s a good look on you. Well not right now obviously but overall.” George winks at his brother as they start to walk down the pathway outside to the training arena. “I haven’t seen you that lively since Bill was crowned.” Fred really wants to argue but he can’t, he knows he became a stiff the moment he became next in line. 

He remembers how him and George used to run rampant through the castle, pulling as many pranks as they possibly could. Minerva or even their mother yelling after them. The thought brings a smile to Fred’s face. How much of a simpler time that was. Back before they were looking face down at a war. Before his father’s problems we’re thrown into his lap because, in all reality, Bill wants nothing to do with them. The same way that Charlie had wriggled out under the guise of helping peace relations in Romania. The same way that Percy left the weight on Fred’s shoulders by being a royal face on the front and getting so good at raising morale that they decided to keep him exactly where he was. 

Plus, as much as everyone loved Percy, he cared too much about how he was perceived to make a great king. He would be too powerful in the wrong hands and the family had its fair share of people that would take full advantage of that fact before the crown even touched his head. He. realized he had been silent for a little too long and just sighed. 

“Sorry George. I know I’m no fun anymore.” His brother nudged him in the ribs.

“Whoever said you were fun in the first place eh?” George said in such a serious tone it made Fred pause. He saw the look on his brother's face and realized the joke had gone right over his head. I really do need to lighten up. He thought to himself and chuckled at his brother. 

Running a hand through his hair a small pang of sadness hits him harder than he thought it would’ve. He’s really just lost so much of himself by the prospect of being king someday. And he really knows it’s just a matter of time. The entire family is waiting with baited breath for Bill to finally run off with Fleur. They keep getting closer every day and it’s only a matter of time until the couple run off to the hills of France. Fred mentally curses at the thought. Bill isn’t doing it to be selfish, he knows that but Fred will be damned if he lets George suffer through everything he’s going through. If it becomes Fred’s turn he’s bringing them through a war and he’s never been more terrified at that idea.

 Fred walks down to the arena in a bit of haze. His thoughts run all over the place. Worse case scenario, one after the other, plays in his mind. How they don’t have enough bodies to fight a war. About how everyone will hate him when he has to draft. The kingdom falling because Fred couldn’t make the important calls at the right time. It’s enough to make him wish that he had stayed in bed. 

Before he realizes it, he’s stepping onto the gravel rink of the training arena. Trying to clear his head with a small shake, he realizes he can spiral later. Right now, he’s doing what he can. Everything else for now can wait. This is what he needs to do to play his part. Keep an eye out for who has leadership potential. 

With the Triwizard tournament coming up, currently being worked up and finalized as he stands here, he needs to keep a clear head. Does he think that right now is not the time for all the usual pageantry? Of course, but for now, it’s not his call to make and he’s grateful for that. He just falls in line and takes his orders when they are given. George gives him a firm pat on his back as he takes his usual spot on the bleachers, pulling out a large book and a quill. Ready to take notes down to report back to Bill. As he expected, there are a few lears and teases about his tardiness, comments he brushes off with a shrug. A few comments on seeing him with someone last night and he quickly shuts down that line of thinking. 

He pairs the men off into their small sparing groups. Deciding that he didn’t trust his own reflexes today, he informs them he wants to work on non-wand fighting. 

“Why would we do that when we have wands?” A voice calls out from the crowd. He sighs heavily. Of course these knob heads would think that. 

“What are you going to do if your wand gets lost, or heaven forbid, were to break in the middle of a fight?” He squints at the man that questioned him. “Are you going to run in the middle of a fight because of that? No. That’s why this is just as an important skill as dueling.” Fred pats the longsword currently resting on his hip. A few people from the crowd chuckle. They just assume it’s for show. He notices a few of the men looking behind him as he’s speaking. He sends a glance over his shoulder and he wants to curse from the sight in front of him. None other than Draco Malfoy. Loud and proud, standing like he owns the damn place. 

He bites back the eye roll and gestures to his men. “Work amongst yourselves for a moment.” He looks at the defiant faces. “With wands if it’s that damn important to you.” He says dismissively but with a tone that says this isn’t the last of that conversation. 

The relationship with the Malfoy family and the Royal family is rocky to say the least. They were part of the group that broke off and tried to become important in the Dark Lord's personal court, before it crumbled, of course. They were also some of the loudest opponents for the Weasley family to become the ruling family and decided to let that little detail fuel every one of their actions for the last fifty years. They did all of this while trying to worm their way into the most powerful positions. Much to Fred’s displeasure to admit, Lucius had managed to redeem himself quite well and from that Draco grew up just as good as a prince would have. 

“To what do I owe the displeasure of your presence Draco?” Fred sighed out. Not bother to care about diplomacy. There was something about the boy that just made his blood boil, too many smart comments aimed at his fathers competency when they were in school together he reckons. Malfoy just scoffs, pointing his head high in the air as he always does. 

“I was sent from the castle to come and get you. Important meeting apparently.” His voice full of discontent, obviously not liking being sent to run errands. 

“And why are you even in the kingdom again?” Fred taunts. “Front line too scary for you?” 

Once again Malofy scoffs. “They pulled Potter and I both out last week. That’s all that I know. Sent in replacements and everything.” Draco raises an eyebrow at Fred’s shocked expression. “Do you not even know what’s going on in your own kingdom? I thought they would be filling you in before him at this point.” He laughs and Fred lunges forward. Grabbing the shiny armor that Draco is wearing. Proof of how little he actually had seen of battle. 

“Woah. Not here Freddie” George says, coming to pry Malfoy out of Fred’s grip. Fred looks back at the group of men currently inspecting every detail of this interaction. 

“Better watch that temper, your majesty.” Malfoy spits out before Fred lets him go, giving him a large shove to get some distance between the two of them. He watches with a small smirk as the blond stumbles back and takes a second to regain his footing.

 Fred turns to the crowd, not even bothering to pretend they haven't just seen the interaction. “Well looks like you have been saved from a boring day.” Fred addresses them. “You’re dismissed but we’re doing double training to make up for this interruption.” He calls and claps his hands, letting everyone know they’re dismissed. 

There are a few groans from among the crowd but after the little show Fred put on no one thinks it smart to try to test his patience at the moment. 

I’ve tried to get this up three times and tumblr has decided to hate me so sorry if the formating is a little off. I tried to fix it but I’m terrible at editing if you havent noticed already.

Taglist: (some wont tag so if you changed urls and still want to be tagged please let me know!) @they-write-once-in-a-while @magical-spit @birdie-writes @ickle-ronniekins @heart-of-tempered-steel @wand3ringr0s3​ @thoseofgreatambition @things-that-start-with-f @elf-punk @bitchywhisperswizard @a-little-too-much @izzytheninja @kpopgirlbtssvt @shadowsinger11 @harrysweasleys 

[thelasttime]

ugh i love telling this story: grade 4, the night before my first midterm exam-french. i study well for it, go to bed on time. have a weird dream where i score 80/80 and my teacher announces it to the class. i wake up, soon forget about the dream, give the exam. i still remember very distinctly that for some reason i was under the impression that you're not supposed to write on the first page. so i leave it empty. when the invigilator comes to my seat to sign my sheet, she asks why i (1/3)— 🦄

(2/3) left the first page of the answer sheet empty. i lowley start freaking out, thinking i'll get penalised for it. the vice principal of our school, who was on a round out in the hallway, walks inside and sees me on the verge of tears. she asks me what's wrong, i tell her, then she smiles and says that it's not a problem, and with my pen writes 'please turn over' on the first page. i thank her, then finish my exam. i remember hoping that i'll score above 78/80 bc i couldn't think of (2/3)— 🦄

(3/3) any question where i had made a mistake, so i just allowed myself a loss of 2 marks for grammar and spelling. besides, we were told not to expect full marks in any language bc it was very rare. the day we get the papers: my teacher gives me my answer sheet, it says 80/80. i got this great comment from the vice principal on it! parent teacher meeting: my teacher tells my dad he fought the vice principal for me to get full marks bc "there's no mistake, how do i penalise her?"— 🦄

wait that’s so chill of your vice principal to write “please turn over” and let you finish the exam...also heck!! this story is so cute and i’m so proud of you for getting a 100% on your midterm exam especially in a different language. you do be having a galaxy brain and this is proof

[ofmagicallonging]

Anon asked joy and betrayed for Francis for the headcannon drabble meme

There was a joy that Francis had from spending time with the Duke. They close, closer than anyone could ever know. The Duke had raised him, took him in after Francis's mother had died. But as they grew older they grew closer. They provided joy for each other. Joy in more ways than they could ever say. Men didn't lie with men. Well they did and it happened plenty in the grand house that Francis grew up in but that could never be open to the public. So when they were out together, whether it was taking a stroll or going to an event, they could never show the joy they had for each other. They had to keep the joy the shared in each others company a secret to themselves. Instead they merely would enjoy each others company. Passing small glances that expressed the joy they shared.

But that joy came crashing quickly when out on a daily stroll. It all happened so fast that Francis had no time to think. Someone had pulled a gun on them, threatening the Duke over something. The words did not sink into Francis's head. As the gun fired, he did the unthinkable, putting himself between the bullet and the Duke. He was a lowley bastard, a son of a servant. His life would never matter. But the Duke did. So Francis didn't need to think twice about it. The world stilled as the bullet went through his chest. The colour drained from him as Francis fell back on to the floor. The joy was gone. Everything was gone and he was certain it was it.

But then Francis woke, at home and craving something new. He was craving blood. Human blood. He didnt understand. But there was the Duke, sat there smiling at him. Proud of how good he did. Proud that the plan all worked. Proud that Francis acted how he planned. There was anger, confusion and betrayal. What plan could there have possibly have been. What worked. There was so many questions. The Duke seemed to sense it, and began explaining what he was. Explaining how he could never lose Francis so planned the whole thing, for him to get shot, for the Duke to turn him into a vampire. Everything. Francis had never felt such a betrayal before and in his new heightened state that felt like a knife through his chest. The emotions mixed with the new craving were fueling his every action. What he did next was unforgivable. The first servant that entered the room, he drained them completely. Taking his betrayal out on those he had called his family. By the time he was done there was no servants left, just the two vampires. One feeling such joy of a plan going together. The other feeling betrayed and full of regret